Phase 3

As I was just saying to my friend K., I'm really glad I decided to start a blog right now, when I have so much free time. My husband keeps telling me that no one will read my blog if I never post anything, but school is kiling me right now.

Being a culinary student is hard, at least at my school. I hear tales of people who go to CIA and breeze through, but no one, and I mean no one, breezes trough my culinary program. I spent 4 years getting an English degree at Sewanee, which is supposed to be extremely difficult, and let me tell you, it was a cakewalk compared to culinary school.

One of the things I've been working on at school is a big project for my menu design class. This project takes place over the course of the semester, with different phases due at different times. We basically create an imaginary restaurant, throw an imaginary party, and write a six course menu (plus b&b) that fits our theme, the event, and the season we have picked. It doesn't sound like a big deal, but it's a killer. All second-year students are currently walking around mumbling to themselves, with glazed-over eyes, stopping only to accost other second-years and utter our frenetic greeting, "Are you done with Phase 3 yet?" I know for me, personally, there have been many late-night phone calls about Phase 3, some completely nonsensical emails that almost reduced a fellow student to tears, and a total inability to utter anything other than the standard greeting (see above) to anyone I meet, including students who are not in this class, and complete starngers at the grocery store.

But in answer to the only question I can currently imagine - yes!! Yes, I am done with phase 3! Yes, I have created standardized recipes for the required 5 courses! Yes, I did include a recipe for stock in my packet! Yes, I do realize how foolish I was to include 3 separate items in my appetizer alone, nearly doubling my workload! And yes, I do regret the inclusion of such brilliant ideas as "vanilla smoke" stolen shamelessly from Homaro Cantu, and for which it is nearly impossible to write a . . . STANDARDIZED RECIPE.

And since I can think about nothing else, I'll share my menu (the season is spring):

Morel trio: shot of soup, braised morel with shallot cream, morel-truffle ravioli, morel reduction

Gingered carrot soup, beet coulis, cashew brittle

Rhubarb soda

Geen tea-smoked duck, melted leeks, lotus chips, strawberry emulsion

Lemongrass-nasturtium gelee, baby spinach, pistachio cracker, champagne vinaigrette

Chocolate fondue, cinnamon marshmallows, honey crisps, vanilla smoke

Sesame twists with plum butter

flavor equations

When I was researching recipes for dulce de leche, I came across this, "A banana dipped in dulce de leche is the taste of a Mexican childhood." That sounded good to me. I'd love to taste a Mexican childhood! (I think.) So with the leftover ddl from our mid-week meal (see last post), I warmed it up and poured it over a sliced banana, sprinkled with cinnamon, and I truly think it was one of the best things I've ever eaten.

Caramel and bananas is a fabulous flavor combination. One of the things I really started learning about last year was combining flavors. They're like little math equations. Some work, some don't. The sous chef I worked for had spent two years at the French Laundry (read - working for God)and really impressed on me the importance of learning which flavors work together. Some of my favorites:
pear + shitake + truffle + celery
banana + caramel + rum
orange + chocolate + black tea (or, more simply, chocolate + Earl Grey)
green tea + duck + leek + plum (or other fruit - cherry is great)
red wine + beef + bacon
lavender + vanilla + cream
bacon + everything

There are many others, of course, but if you know me and eat food that I make very often you'll start to notice that these flavors in these combinations tend to repeat themselves a lot. The cool thing about this is that you can combine these flavors in endless ways.

The handbook for doing this is of course a book called Culinary Artistry, which actually has lists of ingredients, and flavors that pair well with them. It's indispensible.

I've always hated math, but this is the kind I can really enjoy!

autumn dinner

I think Autumn is my favorite season. The leaves, especially here, are so beautiful with all the oranges and reds, and little purple flowers seem to have poppped up everywhere. I also love fall food - I think it's my favorite season for cooking. Rich, hearty things are so comforting on the first chilly nights of the year.

The other night S. wasn't feeling well, and I had had a pretty bad day. But I had the afternoon off, and it was dreary and misty and perfect for spending the afternoon in the kitchen. When one feels worn out, in body and spirit, nothing is so comforting as a good meal.

Here's what I made:
Boeuf bourguignon(sort of), in bread boules, and then apple crepes with dulce de leche for dessert.
A simple salad of frisee or curly leaf lettuce with a lemon vinaigrette would go well with this meal, as well.
For the
Beef stew, I started with some cubed beef, sold as "stew meat" in the grocery store, and meaning, I'm sure, left over bits. But they were inexpensive and suited my purposes. I dredged them in flour and browned them in olive oil. I then add an entire bottle of red wine to deglaze the pan, brought it to a boil, then poured everything into the crock pot, set to low.

You could of course do this in the oven, particularly if you had a dutch oven, or stovetop, but I found that the crock pot worked very well. I've had it for years and seldom used it, and it recently occured to me that it's really a perfect tool for braising.

Then I started with a cold pan and rendered some diced bacon, and added a diced onion and quite a bit of diced carrot, and cooked it all until the onions were tender and translucent. I drained off the excess fat and added all of it to the crock pot. Then I added some peeled pearl onions, and about 3 tablespoons of tomato paste. Of course I added a good amount of salt and pepper. And that's about it. I let it braise for a good 5 hours, until the meat was really tender.

I decided to serve this in bread boules, so I just took a good French bread recipe and made it into medium rounds rather than baguettes. It was nice, and S. liked that aspect of the meal more than I did, because he love bread more than anything else in the world.

I have been wanting to make dulce de leche, but have been intimidated by the prospect of boiling a can of condensed milk, as many recipes tell you to do. My friend Cynthia, pastry chef at the Market Place, gave me a recipe that I used successfully last year which used whole milk and sugar. But I had a can of condensed milk in the pantry and wanted to try using it.

I simply emptied the can into a small saucepot and brought it to a low boil over low heat, and stirred it a lot with a rubber spatula - essential tool for this recipe!! It got some brown bits in it, but I just scraped them into the mixture and told myself, "It's supposed to caramelize, those will be the best parts." I kept boiling until it was golden and tasted like caramel, and it only took me about 10 minutes, not the 4 hours called for in many recipes (!!!).

Then I pureed all of it in the blender wtih a little extra milk, pushed it through a sieve, and I have to say, it was one of the easiest and best things I've ever made. If you dod this, be sure to take the middle part of the top off of the blender. The heat can cause an explosion if you leave it all sealed up. Cover that hole with a kitchen towel, and don't put your face right over it.

I sauteed some diced North Carolina apples - perfect right now!! - with cinnamon and brown sugar and vanilla. Then I made crepes, filled them, topped with the dulce de leche, and it was pretty good. Next time I'll make some whipped cream or serve vanilla ice cream with it.

Here's a good crepe recipe:
3/4 c. flour
1/2 c. clarified butter (I actually used olive oil and it was great)
1/4 c. milk
6 eggs
salt

Whisk together eggs and butter (or oil), add flour then milk Season with a little salt. Make sure it's at ribbon stage (this means you can pull the whisk out and begin to write your name with the batter). Adjust consistency with more milk or flour as needed. Let rest in the fridge - it's actually great if it rests overnight, but an hour or even 30 min. will do.

To make the crepes, get a nonstick pan, brush with oil or butter, and ladle circles onto it, preferably one at a time. Try to make them thin. Flip over when they start to bubble, and transfer to plate when done.
It's really just a thin pancake, so don't be intimidated!

So that's my autumn dinner, and I recommend trying it when you need a little nourishment for your soul as well as your body.

wwjd - what would janna do?

with an afternoon in asheville?

A friend of ours recently noted, with some amazement, that my husband and I really share very few interests. We like different books, different movies, different restaurants, and have remarkably different ideas about fun ways to spend free time. If it were up to S., my husband, we would read books about economic growth in China in the 80s, then go watch an action movie which would be judged on the number of explosions: more explosions = better movie. We would then find a grungey, tiny ethnic restaurant in a bad neighborhood and eat really spicy but otherwise tasteless food, preferably served on paper plates with plastic silverware. At this meal we would discuss such fascinating topics as the entrance of Bulgaria into the European Union and the effect this will have on the euro, the dollar, and both the Japanese and American stock markets. I'm not kidding about this.

Of course the perfect day for him would be spent outdoors getting very dirty and eating ramen noodles. This can be challenging for me, as our friend continually noted on a recent 7 mile canoe trip. He pointed out that there was not one time that he looked over at our canoe and saw me paddling. My theory was that I agreed to come along, which was a big step for me. Plus, I don't think I really would be much help paddling a canoe. Everyone seemed to find this amusing. i was being serious.

My perfect day is about as far away from dirt, politics, and canoes as you can get. Not that I don't enjoy hiking or being outside. I do. I just want to go for about 10 minutes and then shower, put on high heels, and have a nice glass of wine in a cafe.

One of the amazing things about living in this region, is that 2 such polar opposites can find so many perfect days doing such different things. For those of you who, like me, really enjoy the day more if you can look cute while you're having it, let me suggest a great way to spend an afternoon.

Janna's perfect day #1 - Biltmore village.

Start around 1pm. after the lunch rush. Park near Fig. In that same building, there is a fabulous boutique/salon called Wink. It has really beautiful, and surprisingly affordable clothes. If you're looking for a great party dress, this is a good place to start. It's a big, cool space with lots of windows. They also have really good accessories, and a wonderful salon.

Next, check out the apothecary in the same building.

Cross the street to Blue Goldsmiths. The two ladies who run this place (Lynn and Susan) are extremely nice, and custom-make a lot of their jewelry (including my wedding ring). They will spend a long time talking to you about your lifestyle and likes/dislikes to make the perfect piece for you. When they made my ring, Lynn got out a tray of jewels and put them on my hands. She then covered them up so that I could only see one at a time, and said, "How would you feel if you looked down at your hand and saw this stone for the rest of your life?" We did this until we found the perfect stone for me. It was an amazing experience - it really doesn't get any better than having your hands literally covered in loose jewels. But don't worry if you aren't shopping to buy. Looking is free, and they are very welcoming.

Wander back across the street to Sprig, an eclectic garden store. Even if you aren't a gardener, you'll feel like taking it up once you set foot in here. They also sell really clever cards by Anne Taintor. She takes photographs from the 50s and puts hilarious words on them in ransom-note collage fashion. You'll want to buy one for all of your girlfriends. I'm lookng at one I bought for myself right now. It has a picture of a really glamorous woman with large diamonds and says "frugal is such an ugly word."

Finish the day at Enoteca, the coffeeshop/winebar at Rezaz. They're open all afternoon and have biuld-your-own antipasti platters. I recommend the mimosas, and some of the pastries made by Derek, the pastry chef. He's talented, went to my culinary school, and was on the hot food team (very big deal!!) The desserts are displayed in a lovely glass case, which I always think is a good idea. We got an olive-oil poundcake when I was last there.

So there is installment #1 in wwjd? Please note, all of this can be done in heels, which we all know makes it infinitely more enjoyable.

the communal table

I've been thinking lately about the way we eat here in America. I'm not talking about how we eat at home, which can vary greatly. I know I personally eat a lot of meals sitting right here at my computer, trying not to drip on my keyboard. But the way we eat in restaurants, in public. People sit, usually in twos or threes, at separate tables. Each person orders their own plate, which is complete unto itself. A meat, veg, starch, sauce, garnish. A tiny little feast, for one person only, not meant to be shared.
I had the amazing opportunity to live in China for a year and a half, and one of the first things that really struck me was the vast difference in the way they eat in public. There are no sad, selfish two-tops. There are large tables filled with big groups of family and friends. The tables are almost always round. People do not order individually. The host (and there is always a host, who pays for everyone) orders many dishes for the table, and everyone eats from the many communal dishes in the center. The experience of eating, then, becomes truly shared because everyone is eating the same thing.
Courses are different there too. I'm not sure if there is some sort of order to how the food comes from the kitchen. There didn't seem to be, but it may have been too elaborate for me to grasp. It seems that food comes out as it is finished, which is kind of nice. One dish comes, perhaps some crispy pork and ginger dumplings. Then another - maybe a beautiful whole braised fish. Then some stir-fried vegetables, etc. etc. You eat a little of this, then a little of that, how about some more dumplings? Those were good, let's get some more. It's a very free and joyful experience of eating.
When I came home, it seemed truly bizarre and sad to see all of these little tables of 2 or 3. It seemed kind of pointless to go out to dinner with other people because although you are sittting in the same room, you are not sharing the experience of the whole reason you are there - the meal! It's kind of like going to the theater with someone, and not hearing the same music. There is something important about sharing a sensory experience with other people, whether it be hearing the same music, walking down the same street, or seeing the same painting. It bonds you together. What could bond you more to another than eating the same meal? Eating is different than just seeing or hearing something. The food actually enters your body and becomes part of you. Why don't we want to share that with others?
Of course, the family table is a communal experience and I'm happy to see that the trend of serving food family style seems to be growing. I know that when I open my public kitchen, in July, one of the things I want to do is to serve a meal once a week where everyone sits at one table and eats the same thing. In a small way, I believe that this can build community through shared experience, and through the simple fact that if you all sit together, you kind of have to talk to tho other people around you.
Until then, I guess I'll continue to wonder at our pervasive a la carte style of dining, which seems to me quintissentially American - independent -with each person eating their own feast, not sharing, or maybe, begrudgingly, just a bite.