The Call of the Pan Yummies and Selles-sur-Cher

Okay, so I'm a freak. But after the Crown Roast episode we had a spectacular roasting pan filled with gooey crusty caramelized drippings, which I like to call "pan yummies." Normally you can use that to make a sauce, although for our T-day dinner, Eric had already made a brilliant classic brown sauce for the occasion.

But I couldn't possibly let those pan yummies go to waste -- it would be criminal to let all that marrow wash down the drain! So up early Saturday morning and haul out the equipment to make sauce.

It was mostly improvised with a lot of help from Eric, who is, after all, our sauce master. We deglazed with red wine -- a lot of it. ("Ooops! Was that too much?") Then I tossed in some chopped onions and celery (we always have a ton of it left over because a recipe will call for one stalk, but of course you have to buy a whole bunch.) There was tomato paste, beef broth, bay leaf, basically whatever we had on hand. and the whole thing simmered for a bit.

I made a roux ("Is it nutty enough smelling now? How about now? Now? What about now?") and we thickened. Then I got to use Eric's favorite implement, the chinois. Ahh.... smooth lovely creamy sauce. We corrected flavors with some lemon juice, salt and pepper.

Here's my sauce -- the dark one, and Eric's original, which was probably better suited to the pork roast. mine will be used for something. I don't know what -- but something....


And so another day of dirtying every pot in the house ....


And to reward ourselves for another job well done....some lovely Selles-sur-Cher goat cheese. Oh so good. We warmed this in the oven and it really brought out that tangy goatiness. Mmmmmmm....

Crowning a Roast

So it's a good thing we only do Thanksgiving once a year, or I'd be lying around like a beached whale all the time.

I think, though, that it's not the actual volume of food in our case (although there was a mountain of it) it's the all day nibbling. Good thing we had plenty of tupperware for the leftovers though.

As we recover from the extravaganza of cooking, here are some images from the party, our very "low-key" Thanksgiving.
We arrive for the "relaxed, turkey-less, let's not overdo it this time" Thanksgiving celebration, with two bags and a box of food, knives, roaster and let's not forget the meat thermometer.

(Not visible in this picture, the roast, the wine, Brenda's Radicchio Salad, green bean salad and carrots, as well as her contribution of noshies: cheeses, fruit, nuts.)

(Oh, and not pictured on the left is Bill's "Pig Head" shepherd's pie and his Pig Head apple pie as well as pumpkin pie, dinner rolls, Maureen's Pea Soup and her 2 focaccias. Oh, and Mike's wines. Let us not forget those! And, um, a round of Vacherin.)

Like I said, low-key.

"Welcome, oh ye, who bring us pork chops," sayeth Zootie. "Come sit upon this deck beside me and we shall toss the squeaky toy anon..."



Yes, Bill and Maureen have built a lovely new deck on the back of their bungalow and with the weather in its Bay Area summertime glory, we plan to sit outside and enjoy it to its fullest extent.


But soft, what cooking awaits? First we must get the roast in the oven. Cuisine Magazine's trussing technique, while incredibly complicated, seems to have done the job.



Because brining is always a good idea, we decide to brine the roast overnight, which is not part of the recipe, but we think it's a move that's going to pay off.

Eric then creates a rub out of olive oil, salt pepper and herbs which he liberally lathers on the roast.

"This is one big hunk of meat," he remarks. Why yes, it is.

To keep us going while we work -- you know, lest we faint from hunger or some such -- Brenda has provided a lovely spread of cheese including Saint Andre, Keen's Cheddar and goat cheese with cranberries. There are also some fabulous olives, including ones that are such bright green that they almost look raw. They're not though, they're salty and succulent and I could eat about a hundred of them. We also nosh on some small nicoise olives and a mix of meaty Italian Cerignolas and other varieties as well.

In the mean time, Maureen pulls a focaccia with pesto and one with caramelized onions out of the oven -- you know, to help make room for the roast. Yes, go ahead -- help yourselves.

So far, we're really keeping the eating under control. Hah.

The inspiration for this year's pig -- rather than turkey--themed dinner was Bill's discovery that the thing he'd always thought was just a decorative pig medallion hanging on his kitchen wall, is in fact a cast iron pie dish. It's true. He made the Shepherd's Pie and the Apple Pie in it and let me tell you, there's magic in that thar snout.


There's magic in that snout too -- but of a different, wet dog, variety. Dogs are great though. When you drop a bit of cheese on the floor you say, "Here, Zootie, here Zoots -- right here," and like magic, it's snurfled up and lo, the floor is clean.

"Go on, Heater, go on... you like cheddar."

But I digress.





The weather is fine -- well, okay, it was finer the day before, but it's still way nicer than it looked in New York -- and the table is set. Wine is flowing Radicchio, Apple Pistachio and Parmagiano Salad is in the offing. Let the eating -- um... begin. Oh, wait. We already started.

While the roast rests and the mushroom sauce that Eric whips up for our vegetarian participants simmers, we start with Maureen's pea soup -- for which we're quite convinced, she has stolen the souls of some young peas.

Then there are sauteed Bay Scallops with mushroom sauce for some and for the rest, there are Brontosaurus Burgers with Yam Tournes and pearl onions.

I'm not kidding. Those chops could have choked a whale, which, coincidentally, is exactly what I will feel like after having consumed half of one. How some of the guys put away two of them is a complete and total mystery, I believe, having something to do with relativistic length contraction and the collapse of spacetime.

And not like that's the be all and end all of the dinner either, because in our food-induced stupor we didn't take pictures of the Shepherd's Pie, the carrot dish, the green bean dish or the dinner rolls. (See November 23rd's entry for images of the cranberry relish and Braeburn applesauce.)

Uhn.

But we are of hearty stock, we intrepid diners. Bring forth the Pumpkin Pie. And the Apple Pie.

And the whipped cream. And the Straus Family Dairy eggnog.


Life is rough for us in the Bay Area. I know you can tell. As idyllic as this all looks, know that it can get a little chilly in the end of the evening.






Yes it can.

*Burp.*

Cheese Archive list

Who would have thought this would turn into a blog about cheese? No honestly-- for real -- who would have thought?

So I'm going to start a handy reference list of the cheese episodes below just to keep track of things. Trust me, we'll be updating it often.

• Abbaye de Belloc
• Camembert de Normandie (Gillot)
• Charolais (affined by Herve Mons)
  
• Epoisses (Germain)
• Le Gariotin d'Alvignac (Ferm du Roc)
  
• Pianoforte (Andante Dairy)
• Metronome (Andante Dairy)
• Mimolette (affined by Jean d'Alos)
  
• Mt. Tam (Cowgirl Creamery)
• Nocturne (Soyoung Scanlan-Andante Dairy)
• Piccolo (Andante Dairy)
• Pierce Point (Cowgirl Creamery)
• Pont l'Eveque (Graindorge)
• Red Hawk (Cowgirl Creamery)
• Renate (Sally Jackson)
• Saint-Marcellin: Part Deux, Take 3
• Saint Maure de Touraine
• Saint Nectaire (fermier, affined by Jean d'Alos)
• Selles-sur-cher (France)
  
• Sir Francis Drake (Cowgirl Creamery)
• Van Goat (Harley Farms)
• Vacherin de Jura (French)
• Vacherin Fribourgeois (Swiss)

Other interesting Cheese Links:

• Cheese Board Collective (Berkeley) A co-op that provides a good selection in a decent price range
  
• The Pasta Shop (Oakland)- Expensive, but they have a good range of cheeses.
  
• Whole Foods (Cheese Department)
• Cowgirl Creamery- One of the best cheesemakers and suppliers around. You can get not only their line of yummy cheeses, but also a selection from other makers like Sally Jackson, french affineur Jean d'Alos and Harley Farms.
• Murray's Cheese store (NY)
• Artisanal Cheese shop (NY)
• Syndicat de Defense de l'Epoisses (France)
  

Jackpot! Thackrey's Pleiades and Jura's Vacherin!

Oh, Frabjous day!

Calloo! Callay!
She chortled in her joy!

So we have in our hot little hands four more bottles of Sean Thackrey's Pleiades XIV. Hee-hee, ho-ho --they're coming to take us away!

We were rather worried because this "kitchen sink" wine of Sean's was among the ones in the warehouse fire a few months ago and there were concerns that Sean had lost pretty much his whole stock. A couple of cases turned up at San Francisco Wine Trading Company and they kindly gave us a call. How fast was Eric down there? Fast enough to secure this...


Then, as we shopped at an undisclosed location for tomorrow's feast, we came across some... could it be? Is it....? Vacherin? French Vacherin?

We stood there sniffing at the plastic wrap and examining the spruce band like CSIs on a crime scene.

"Look," said Eric, "There's orange rind on this one..."

"But, this one," quoth I, "has a really gross looking rind."

After stopping one of the helpful cheese purveyors, we asked his opinion on the um... Vacherin.

He was a bit taciturn at first. As if he were trying not to give too much away. Were we from the Department of Homeland Security? Would we bust the store on possession of illegal French raw milk cheese.

"Well, do you like this one?"

"Well, we carry the Vacherin Fribourgeois --" he began.

"Yes, yes," we waved our hands dismissively, "We know, the Swiss one. But what about," a diabolical glint in the eye, "THIS one?"

He gets it. We're Cheese Outlaws. "Oh. This one is unbelievable. So much better."

He explains it is from the French side. Say no more. We're ready. Pass me a spoon.

Between the Pleiades and the Vacherin it's like we won the lottery. Look at that trail of Vacherin! It smells like fabulous old gym socks on a forest floor and it tastest like creamy heaven. Heeheeheehee. [Wild cackling.]


So in other news, you might wonder what we're doing for T-Day. Especially if you could see how much traffic seems to be coming to this blog via searches on the words "sausage stuffing" and "brined smoked turkey."

But we are avoiding turkey this year. We're bucking the trend. We're making Crown Roast of Pork with oven roasted onions and yams. It's a...hmmm... noble undertaking , though not so much less trouble than the --as it were -- five day-brined turkey. Well, okay, so it's only taking two days. Setting up that crown is an undertaking though. I'll keep you posted on whether we like this recipe. So far Sarastro approves.

Also on the menu is my favorite simple Cranberry Sauce out of Bon Appetit years ago and Braeburn Apple Sauce.

It was the yams though that really took it out of me. Apparently "tourne" means not to make little 2 inch football shaped yam-lets, but to cover your hands in sticky yucky as you suffer an emotional meltdown. Now what to do with the leftovers...


APPLESAUCE (from Cuisine)
(Makes 4 - 1/2 cups)
Work Time: 15 minutes
Cook Time: 20 minutes

Core and Cut:
5 Braeburn apples, unpeeled

Cover and Cook Apples in Large Saucepan with:
3 T. apple cider or apple brandy

Stir into Cooked Apples:
1/2 cup apricot preserves

Process Apples in Food Mill.
Place Puree in Bowl and Blend in:
1/4 cup granulated sugar
1/4 cup brown sugar
3 T. unsalted butter, sliced
1/4 t. ground allspice

Core the apples and cut each apple into eight pieces. To prevent browning, put the apples in a bowl filled with cold water and lemon juice.

Place the apples and cider in a saucepan. Cover and bring to a boil over high heat. Reduce heat and simmer 20-25 minutes. Keep covered.

Stir in the preserves and pour (with juice) into a food mill. Use disk with largest holes and process the apples. The mill separates the skins.

Place the applesauce in a bowl. Stir sugars, butter, and allspice into the warm applesauce. Serve applesauce warm or cold. (It’s best warm!)


CRANBERRY SAUCE
1 cup water
1 cup (packed) dark brown sugar
1 12-ounce package cranberries
1 tablespoon chopped fresh thyme
1 teaspoon Dijon mustard
Pinch of salt


Combine 1 cup water and brown sugar in heavy medium saucepan. Bring to boil, stirring until sugar dissolves. Add cranberries. Simmer until berries burst, stirring occasionally, about 8 minutes. Remove from heat. Stir in thyme, mustard and salt. Cool completely.

Epoisses Kitty

So we went to Whole Foods to pick up supplies for our Coq au Vin blanc, but took an..ahem.. unexpected digression into the cheese aisle.

No! Really? You don't say! How on earth did you wind up there?

There was a shipment of Berthaut Epoisses in the case, but then I spotted another one by a producer called Germain, and in one of those cheese frenzy moment, I literally dropped the Berthaut and snatched up the new one.

We didn't know anything about it, but it looked a great deal shinier and goopier than the burger-shaped Berthaut rounds. After hailing a cheesemonger, we asked about the details. He scouted about for someone else, because, he said, he'd never tried it before. Well, as it turned out, no one at the counter had yet tried it, so -- our lucky day -- he cut into one and we got to sample.

OHSOyummy.

We were sold. 250 g came home with us. Maybe we'll never have real Epoisses on these shores, but we can dream about it and have some tasty treats at least. And the AOC Germain doesn't appear to be too shabby -- they took a bronze medal last year at the Concours Général Agricole in Paris.

"Please, sir, may I have some Epoisses?" asks our cheesy kitty.

"Down, Sarastro. No cheese for kitties..."



"Give me the Epoisses, puny human."

Oh, and as an aside, how did I miss the Cat Blogging Weekend??

Anyhow, we worked for about 2.5 hours on the coq au vin blanc which was not as satisfying as one would hope for such effort. It was okay, and will probably taste even better, of course, the next day, but I like the recipe from Bistro Jeanty which uses cocoa powder. This appeared in the SF Chronicle a few years back.

(btw, I'm going to write a song and it will be entitled, "Oh My Stove, It is So Tiny.")

BISTRO JEANTY'S COQ AU VIN

The secrets to success are to marinate the chicken overnight and to add cocoa powder to the sauce. Leftovers are great the next day spooned over wide noodles.

INGREDIENTS:

-- 2 large yellow onions, peeled and diced
-- 3 shallots, peeled and diced
-- 8 cloves garlic, peeled and roughly chopped
-- 3 sprigs parsley
-- 2 bay leaves
-- 5 branches thyme
-- 1 1/2 bottles good quality Merlot or Zinfandel

-- 2 large chickens (3 1/2-4 pounds each), cut up
-- Salt to taste
-- Freshly ground black pepper to taste
-- 1/2 cup olive oil
-- 2 tablespoons flour
-- 1/2 cup cognac
-- 2 cups chicken stock (canned is OK)
-- 1 1/2 tablespoons unsweetened cocoa powder

-- 6 ounces thick- sliced apple- wood-smoked bacon, diced
-- 1 basket pearl onions, blanched and peeled
-- 1 pound button mushrooms, quartered

-- 2 tablespoons chopped parsley for garnish

INSTRUCTIONS: Place the onions, shallots, garlic, parsley sprigs, bay leaves, thyme and wine in a large non-reactive bowl. Add the chicken, and stir to mix well. Cover with plastic wrap, and refrigerate for 24 to 48 hours.

Remove the chicken from the wine marinade; reserve the marinade. Dry the chicken pieces with paper towels, and season them generously with salt and pepper.

Heat the oil in a large, heavy casserole over high heat. Add the chicken in batches to avoid crowding the pan. Brown the chicken well on all sides. Remove the pieces when browned, and set aside.

Add the flour to the casserole and cook, stirring constantly, for 2 minutes.

Return the chicken to the casserole, stir and add the cognac. Remove the casserole from the heat, carefully ignite the cognac, and let the flames burn out.

Add the marinade to the casserole, and bring the mixture to a boil over high heat, scraping up all browned bits from the bottom of the pan. Add the chicken stock. Reduce the heat to low, cover and simmer until the chicken is tender, about 1 to 1 1/2 hours.

Remove the chicken from the casserole and set aside. Strain the sauce through a sieve. Discard the solids, and return the sauce to the casserole.

Put the cocoa in a small bowl; add about 1/2 cup sauce, and whisk until smooth. Add the cocoa mixture to the casserole, turn the heat to high, and boil the sauce until it is reduced to about 4 cups.

When the sauce is reduced, lower the heat to medium-low and return the chicken to the casserole to heat through.

Meanwhile, saute the bacon in a large skillet. As it begins to brown, add the pearl onions and then the mushrooms. Let the mixture cook about 10 minutes until lightly colored.

Remove the mixture from the skillet with a slotted spoon, leaving the fat in the skillet, and add the solids to the chicken. Stir to combine, sprinkle with parsley, and serve.

Serves 8.

Best-Ever Rum Cake

Here's a bit of amusement for today... As I was searching around for my macaron recipes I came across this recipe, which was sent to me by a friend years ago.

The Best Ever Rum Cake

• 1 tsp sugar
• rum
• 1 cup dried fruit
• brown sugar
• 1 tsp soda
• 1 cup butter
• 2 x eggs large
• baking powder
• lemon juice
• nuts
  

Before starting, sample rum to check quality. Good, isn't it? Now proceed.

Select large mixing bowl, measuring cups, etc. Check rum again. It must be just right. To be sure rum is of proper quality, pour one level cup of rum into glass and drink it as fast as you can.

Repeat.

With electric mixer, beat 1 cup butter in a large fluffy bowl. Add 1 teaspoon of the sugar and beat again. Meanwhile, make sure rum is still alright. Try another cup. Open a second
quart if necessary. Add sugar, 2 cups fried druit and beat til high. If druit gets stuck in beaters, pry loose with drewscriber.

Sample rum again checking for tonscistecity.

Nest, sift 3 cups pepper or salt(really doesn't matter). Sample rum.

Sift 1/2 pint lemon juice. Fold in chopped butter and strained nuts. Add 1 bablespoon of brown thugar or whatever color you can find. Wix mell.

Grease oven. turn cake pan 350 degrees. Pour mess into boven and ake.

check rum again and bo to ged.

A Sunday off in Chinatown

After a couple of weeks of work, work, work, I finally called Sunday morning an official holiday (at least until rehearsal in the afternoon) and after dropping Eric off at his gig with the Green Street Mortuary Band (more on that later), I went wandering through Chinatown, which I haven't had the time to do... well, since I moved here.

It's kind of fun to be a tourist in your own town every once in a while, and my only regret was that I didn't think to bring the camera, so the shots above and of the veggies are stock, so to speak.

Chinatown, even early on a Sunday, is full of activity, particularly on Stockton down near where it meets Columbus. That's where there are several vegetable and seafood markets clustered together. The whole family-- mom, grandma, grandpa-- seems to come out to rummage through the assortment of produce on the stands out on the street. It seems that carrying one, probably two, pink plastic bags is de rigeur and rifling through the vegetables with perfunctory disdain is absolutely necessary. Women toss aside baby bok choy, cabbages, pea pods-- rejecting this one or that one for invisible reasons.

As I walked along the crowded sidewalks, barely able to maneuver up the street, I saw a frenzy erupt over cartons of cantaloupe that hadn't even made it off of the loading pallet. Grey-haired grandmas were ripping viciously into the cardboard and yanking them out of the boxes with no regard for the guy who was trying to unload them.

I kept moving, avoiding the melee and staring at the odd assortment of things in the other bins, dried fish, seaweed, mushrooms, nuts. The oddest to me is the blistered looking bitter melon. But then, sometimes it's funny to think that things like durian and dried octopus look normal to me. I love the San Francisco fusion of the Stockton markets too-- the handwritten signs on pink paper in Chinese over some glossy, tawny, foreign looking object (is it a fruit, a vegetable, a fish, an insect?) next to a bin labelled in English "Washington Fuji apples."

Things are sold in the market with a lack of ceremony or romance. This is not at all like the Ferry Plaza Famers' Market, which always to me seems to be about the excitement of the story behind what you're buying -- organic mushrooms grown while the elves dance under the waxing moon, spices flavored with the blue flowers harvested by yak herders from the Tibetan plateau. None of that in Chinatown.

"Fuyu."

"For me?"

"Persimmon. You buy?"

I had a bit of a mission though. I'm on the hunt for a non food-related item: the custom made cheongsam or Chinese dress.

Think Maggie Cheung in "In the Mood for Love." Okay, it was kind of a silly story, but the dresses she wore in that movie were spectacular. I've done some research and there's a place called Dragonseed, where they will help you select fabrics -- silks, brocade, velvet -- and a style and then custom make a cheongsam on site. Or, if you have less money but more time, they'll send it out to Hong Kong and you'll have it within a couple of months. Thomas Tam, the proprietor was quite helpful and sympathetic to my plight as a tall woman. Off-the-rack cheongsams are usually made to fit shorter women, but in order to look like Maggie here, it is essential that you have the perfect fit, in the waist, the hip -- well, just the perfect fit.

After chatting with Mr. Tam, I made my way out along Clay Street. Down at that end of Chinatown, which is closer to the Financial District, there's a bit of a scent of firecrackers hanging in the air, like a perennial atmosphere of Dragon parades. Heading back toward Jackson, I passed the guy who sits out on the sidewalk playing an erhu, a lonely sounding Chinese stringed instrument.

Then in the distance, I heard the distinct sounds of a funeral jazz band coming up the street. I wanted to see Eric play, so like a groupie chasing a parade (which, in point of fact, I was) I retraced my steps and caught up with the Green Street Mortuary Band, a New Orleans style troupe that plays for Chinese funerals. It's another one of those great "only in San Francisco" things. The band, mostly local (mostly white) musicians, play New Orleans dirges as they walk behind a hearse that visits the places important in the life of the dearly departed. They snake through the streets of Chinatown on Saturday and Sunday mornings in black suits with crisp white military hats, stopping near Columbus Avenue, where I finally found them, with the driver and his assistant holding open the hearse's back door as if the deceased were about to step out onto a red carpet.

They played a last tune, and then the leader, who was standing in a Chrysler convertible with a gong, sounded three blasts. At each one, the band bowed. Quick as rabbits, the driver and his man shut the door, jumped into the front seat. The driver tossed out a handful of fake paper money from the window and they took off like the blazes for Colma, where the San Francisco cemetary is.

I love San Francisco.

Well, after all that, you ask, what did you have for dinner? Hmmm... something light. A nicoise salad with homemade avocado aioli and a Kir. Hah.

Yep, I love San Francisco.



My food loving kitty considers his options. Hmmm.. tuna? Anchovies? Mayonnaise? ... Or a KIR!