Showing posts with label Condiments. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Condiments. Show all posts

Wednesday, March 14, 2012

Tartar Sauce

Adapted from Lobster Rolls and Blueberry Pie by Rebecca Charles (Artisan, 2003)
Serves about 2 to 4 (easily scaled)

These amounts are loose and depend on how much you want to make. Increase or decrease as needed.

1/3 cup mayonnaise—your favorite (Mine is Ojai.)
1/2 large shallot, minced, or 2 tablespoons minced sweet onion, or some chopped scallions
1 to 2 tablespoons chopped cornichons (I use Maille cornichons)
1 teaspoon cornichon juice
2 teaspoons tiny capers in vinegar, drained
Salt (if necessary) and pepper to taste
A small squeeze of fresh lemon juice

Mix all ingredients together and chill until ready to use.

Rebecca Charles’s Lobster Rolls and Blueberry Pie is more of an interesting memoir than a recipe collection, but there are some good ones included here and there.

Her restaurant, Pearl Oyster Bar, was a favorite when I lived in New York City. If I’d been in the middle of cooking dinner and someone called to say, “Let’s go to Pearl,” I would have turned off the stove and headed for the subway.

She was justifiably famous for her lobster rolls, but I always ordered the Salt-Crusted Shrimp. Every time. Dessert was a different story. I had to choose between the Butterscotch Parfait and the Chocolate Mousse—and it was a difficult decision. I always hoped my dining companion would order one so I could order the other and have a taste of both.

Unfortunately, the recipe for that mousse is not in the book.

But when I found Aileen’s Chocolate Mousse, I was rewarded with a dessert so similar that my craving can be satisfied any time I like.



Thursday, May 17, 2007

Pesto

Adapted from Make It Easy in Your Kitchen by Laurie Burrows Grad (HP Books, 1989)

I’m not in love with pesto on pasta.

In Italy, pesto is often tossed with pasta, potatoes, and green beans so everything melds. But even that doesn’t really do it for me. And yet—every summer, basil reappears. It smells so good. It sounds like something I should want to make. So every year, I find myself trying again.

What I like best is to stir a spoonful into soup—especially Marcella’s minestrone, served at room temperature in summer. Or into rice pilaf. It’s a nice condiment to have on hand, to use sparingly.

That’s why I keep a recipe for it.

And for what it’s worth, Paula Wolfert, in Mediterranean Cooking (Alfred A. Knopf, 1977), adds a touch of light cream to her pesto, as they do in Nervi, south of Genoa. That always sounded like cheating to me. But then again, so does adding cream to carbonara or aioli—and it sometimes makes things better. So you decide.

Pesto

1 cup tightly packed fresh basil leaves, stems removed, washed, and dried
½ cup best-quality extra-virgin olive oil
3 tablespoons freshly grated Parmesan (or a mix of Parmesan and Pecorino Romano, if you like it sharper)
2 tablespoons pine nuts
3 small garlic cloves, peeled
1 tablespoon chopped fresh parsley
½ teaspoon salt, or to taste (the cheese adds saltiness)
¼ teaspoon white pepper (the original recipe calls for white—I use it, but black would be fine too)

Place everything in the bowl of a food processor and process—pulsing on and off—until smooth and fully blended.

If not using right away, store with a thin film of olive oil on top to prevent discoloration and refrigerate.

To freeze, leave out the cheese and add it after thawing.

Sunday, May 6, 2007

Immediate Gratification Jam

Adapted from Joie de Vivre: Simple French Style for Everyday Living by Robert Arbor and Katherine Whiteside (Simon & Schuster, 2003)

This is a lovely, simple recipe to have up your sleeve as strawberries, raspberries, and blueberries start appearing—glistening temptingly in their little baskets. You can make this jam with any one of them, or a combination of two or all three.

This jam is not preserved in airtight jars or sealed with wax. It’s completely fresh. You only make enough to last about a week, and it keeps well in the refrigerator for that long.

It is delicious on toasted French bread that has been buttered—either lightly or liberally, depending on your taste and waist. The crunch of the bread, the butter, and the sweet fruit is a perfect combination that you should enjoy while you can. Next winter, you may find yourself remembering how good it was—and making it may become a summer tradition.

Strawberries, raspberries, blueberries—or any mix of them*
Approximately 1 to 2 cups sugar, depending on how much fruit you use

If the strawberries are large, cut them into four pieces; if they’re small, cut them in half. Blueberries and raspberries can go in whole.

Place the fruit in a bowl and toss with sugar until well coated. Transfer to a saucepan and add enough water to come about halfway up the fruit.

Bring to a boil uncovered. Immediately reduce the heat and simmer, stirring occasionally.

When the fruit has turned mostly to liquid, taste. If it’s not sweet enough, stir in more sugar. Once the extra sugar melts into the fruit, the jam is ready. It may still look runny, but it will firm up slightly after chilling.

*My favorite store-bought jam is a Swedish preserve—Queen’s Blend by Hafi—made from red raspberries and wild blueberries. It’s as delicious a combination as I can imagine. So mix the fruits mentioned above at your whim.

Friday, January 12, 2007

Non-Traditional Aïoli

Adapted from Pedaling Through Provence by Sarah Leah Chase

Makes About 2 Cups

This recipe is from a small, sweet book, Pedaling Through Provence, which would make a lovely small gift for someone who loves France—or for someone heading there on holiday.

This is not a traditional Provençal aïoli because it contains bread and heavy cream, which give it a lush, light texture. It is particularly lovely with salad niçoise and with fish in place of tartar sauce.

1 thick slice day-old French bread, crust removed
¼ cup heavy cream
5 or 6 cloves garlic, minced
2 large egg yolks
1 tablespoon Dijon mustard (I like Edmund Fallot)
1 cup vegetable oil
¾ cup extra-virgin olive oil
2 to 3 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
Sea salt

Tear the crustless bread into coarse pieces, put them into a small bowl, and add the cream. Let it sit for 5 minutes so the cream soaks into the bread. Once the cream is absorbed, squeeze out as much liquid as you can with your hands.

Put the squeezed bread, garlic, egg yolks, and mustard in a food processor. Process until smooth. With the machine running, pour the oils through the feed tube in a thin, steady stream until a thick emulsion—the consistency of mayonnaise—forms.

Transfer the aïoli to a bowl and season to taste with lemon juice and salt. Refrigerate until ready to serve. The aïoli can be served chilled or at room temperature.

NOTE: Sarah Leah Chase’s books are elegant, practical, and full of recipes that work. These are the ones on my shelves:

Nantucket Open-House Cookbook
Cold-Weather Cooking
Pedaling Through Provence
Pedaling Through Burgundy
The Silver Palate Good Times Cookbook
New England Open-House Cookbook