Ana Sortun's "Spice"

Sorry it has taken me so long to write this! Let me just begin by saying that, if you cook and do not own this book, you MUST buy it. Now. Go right over to your local bookstore and get it!

(Before I get into the specifics of this dinner, let me also note that last night Zora made the roasted eggplant with sherry vinegar recipe and it was dynamite!)


This meal was an excellent lesson/reminder of what happens when you get overexcited and cook too many dishes. Enthusiasm is a great motivator -- admirable, perhaps, and certainly contagious, but in hindsight I can see that if I had parceled out some of that enthusiasm (i.e. NOT made everything I was dying to make on the first go around,) people might have not been so ridiculously stuffed.

Huh. Learn from my mistakes, people!


Another excellent lesson I learned on this one was to READ THE ENTIRE RECIPE BEFORE YOU BEGIN. I know, it seems remedial, doesn't it? I think (in my arrogance) I sometimes skip critical steps like this, and well... that is how you find yourself about to cook a "Potato Risotto" assuming that the recipe will involve both potatoes AND risotto only to discover that the recipe calls for the potatoes to BE the risotto. Oh yes, and this was while people were eating the 3rd course in the other room! And you wonder why I kick people out of my kitchen!

Another valuable lesson I learned is that making Potato Risotto (which I improvised, using both Arborio Rice and Potatoes, as it turned out) for 22 people is less than advisable. It seems like a great idea, right? A self-contained dish, in one pot, (well, two in this case,) stirring for 20 minutes or so...

Yeah.

NO fucking way. Don't do it. Don't do it because you cannot walk away from the fucking pan for at minimum, a half hour. It is an enormous amount of rice to control (keep it from sticking, keep it moving, balance the moisture, etc). You will invariably misjudge the amount of chicken stock you will need, and be unable to easily put your hands on more.


At one point I started to feel like a Navy cook on a submarine...... It started to look like a big vat of gruel. Before you give up on me, understand that the dish ultimately tasted divine...


...but by the time it was served, no one could really appreciate it because they were so STUFFED from all of the other courses!

Oh, and another "learn from my mistake" is to BALANCE YOUR STARCHES.


Maybe, if you are serving a Potato Risotto with Saffron, Walnuts and Green Olives (the saffron was my touch - it just seemed like a good idea, and, frankly, how could it not be?) don't serve it at the same time as Israeli Cous Cous and Red Lentils with Roasted Red Pepper Vinaigrette, particularly if you have preceded THAT with Cranberry Beans Stewed with Tomatoes and Cinnamon...


Again, I direct your attention to Exhibit A: My unbridled enthusiasm for an incredibly beautiful cookbook. I suppose there are worse crimes, huh?




We started with some Istanbul Style Artichokes. I have made artichokes many ways over the years, but never like this.


Outer leaves pulled off, remaining artichoke cut into quarters and placed into acidulated water until you are ready to use them. They were roasted with lots of garlic, white wine, lemon and honey. I thought the honey would be too sweet and overpowering, but no no-- truly delicious!

The honey mellows when cooked with the wine and lemon and is more aromatic than sweet. Very complimentary to the "green," nutty flavor of artichokes.



There was a Fatoush Salad, which was loads of cucumbers, radishes, watercress and arugula, fennel sliced thinly, and toasted pita bread broken into shards with two dressings: a red wine/pomegranate molasses vinaigrette and a tahini/greek yoghurt mix.


Ingenious. Creamy and bright and tart... like everything you ever wanted in a dressing!

Guest salad chef Amy busts out the Fatoush Salad...

There were some Mussels with Leeks, Smoked Paprika and Aleppo Pepper that I just HAD to make with some Chorizo... mostly because it seemed like it was BEGGING for it.





Smoky, spicy and a little bit of sweet with the addition of the leeks, the chorizo, the salty brine of the mussels... a marriage made in heaven. It's making me hungry just thinking about it again!

Fresh cranberry beans stewed with tomatoes (I canned some last summer, but you can use whole canned stewed tomatoes too), garlic and cinnamon. Yup, cinnamon. Deliriously aromatic and not nearly as aggressive as it sounds. The tomato tempers the cinnamon I think, and the garlic rounds it out.




Swiss Chard was chiffonaded and sauteed with olive oil, raisins, pine nuts and good sherry (and a touch of sherry vinegar.) That dish was one of mine, not Ana's, and it seemed to be a hit. I even had someone request the recipe, the following week!



It's a great way to eat chard, and is slightly more interesting than the standard olive oil/garlic treatment. I also usually reserve the stems, toss them in olive oil and salt, roast at 400 degrees for 15 minutes, or so, and serve separately. It breaks them down, and brings out their nutty flavor, not to mention it's GOOD for you!


There was Israeli Cous Cous and Red Lentils with a Roasted Red Pepper Vinaigrette. I roasted red peppers on the stove top,



partially peeled and chopped them and soaked them with cider vinegar, shallots, salt, pepper, and olive oil for the majority of the afternoon. When the lentils and cous cous were finished cooking, I just poured the vinaigrette over the whole thing.




Zora served something like this recently with chopped chard also... that is where I got the idea. A great way to have a starch with zest.

When I thought people's palates were broken, (and they practically were-- the eating had definitely ground to a screeching, grinding halt,) I suggested that we skip the Fried Haloumi with Spiced Dates course. HA! There was nearly rioting at the front table! SO, off I went -- Karl had made the spiced dates earlier that day (thank Christ) with cumin, coriander, cardamom, brown sugar and lemon...


...so all I had to do was fry a little haloumi which was relatively painless.


I cut the haloumi into strips (tiny ones, so as not to completely annihilate my dinner guests' digestive systems) and placed it in a hot, nonstick frying pan. The oil in the cheese acts as the fat to "fry" in, so no oil was needed. When they got brown and crisp on the outside and melty inside, they were plated with spiced dates and served.


Another genius use of fried cheese!

To round it all off there was a Fresh Ricotta Lemon Tart with Lemon Cream from another chef whose work I adore, Suzanne Goin.


Fresh Ricotta mixed with lemon zest, almond extract, vanilla, and eggs spread onto puff pastry and baked. Lemon curd and lemon cream topped it and we served it up with some home made jams we had been given recently (thank you Katie and Bodicker!!).


All in all, it was an excellent learning experience, humbling and a ridiculously delicious gut buster. And, thank God, I didn't have to go through the entire meal without pork. (Chorizo to the rescue!!)

Oh, and have I mentioned you should run out and buy Ana Sortun's "Spice?..."

Frenchy!

"The sight of the little madeleine had recalled nothing to my mind before I tasted it..." but "... as soon as I had recognized the taste of the piece of madeleine soaked in her decoction of lime-blossom which my aunt used to give me... immediately the old grey house upon the street, where her room was, rose up like a stage set to attach itself to the little pavilion opening on to the garden which had been built out behind it for my parents."

Marcel Proust, "Remembrance of Things Past"

I just love it when one little thing -- a smell, a taste, a dish... even a photograph can expand your mind to an entire meal you hadn't considered. In this case, it was the sweet little article and recipe in the New York Times a couple of weeks ago by Melissa Clark.

The idea of little meringues scented with rose water and finished with rose petals, whipped cream with jam, cassis and pomegranate seeds set my imagination aflame. I owe Melissa Clark a 'thank you' e-mail!

Working backwards from dessert can be inspiring, in a very specific way. It sort of reminds me of eating dessert before dinner. When the end is preplanned, you can think... "now what do I want to have to eat before that?"

Something about the way Melissa Clark described her Parisian hostess struck a sympathetic chord; It was the exact way in which Zora and I recently described the respective hosts whose entertaining styles we grew up admiring, who started us down the road on which we find ourselves today… and now we work to be that sort of host to others. But I digress.

At any rate, It was ultimately very easy to decide on Rustic French as the way to go. The cuisine lends itself to “family style" dining, presentation is forgiving, and flavor is key.

That, and it allows you maximum freedom with the cream and butter aspect.

Rustic French also allowed me to make a dish that I have both desired and feared in equal measure.

Sacré Bleu!

Pissaladière is basically a rustic French pizza loaded with anchovies,

caramelized onions,

and Nicoise olives.

Yeah, baby.

Big ups to Millicent, Karl and Peter for defiantly insisting that we pit the olives before putting them on the pizza, as I was freaking out about time and wanted to skip that step...

My fear doesn't stem so much from caramelizing the onions or pitting the olives, the problem lies in the dough.

Delicious yeast! Yes, my pretties...eat!

Doh! (Dough...)

The truth of the matter is, I am very attracted to the idea of making dough, but I have never actually done it. It's kind of like my feelings about spending the week in a monastery in silent meditation, but that's a different subject. Thank Christ I married Karl, who loves to make dough, and who greeted my plaintive “will you make it?" with “Sure!”

Karl's Pissaladiere dough, in the easy-to carry Zippy Bag® Dough Carrier (Patent Pending)

So Pissaladière it was – in all its savory goodness, lying in wait for our approaching guests. I love the idea of getting everyone on equal footing right off by plying their palates (and breath!) with anchovies and onions. The social messiness of it intrigues me.

Mmmm... Social messiness...

The main factor that made this meal a leader in the Sunday Night Dinner Hall of Fame was the presence of our guest star, Millicent.

Yay!

She used to cook at one of my favorite joints of all time, The Queen’s Hideaway, and is a badass with a heart of gold and knife skills that make me embarrassed to chop anything in her presence.

She offered to help cook and showed up with 1) Her own knife, 2) Her own “Prep Beer” with matching cozy and 3) a pint of freshly rendered goose fat.

I am sorry to admit this, but anyone who shows up with goose fat IMMEDIATELY jumps to the front of the line. It's like fixing the karmic lottery, as far as I am concerned.

She initially asked about a “prep list” which, naturally, I didn't have.

Ahem. Fortunately, she was content to take orders, which my close friends tell me I am somehow good at giving.

She chopped and sliced and washed and chopped some more. It was her idea to poach eggs and put them on the Celery and Watercress Salad, transforming it from something just fresh and lively into something fucking crazy delicious.

Deploying the poached eggs...


Mmmm... Poachy.

Peter, who doesn’t even like celery, loved it!!

In my mind, the Leeks Vinaigrette was just going to be leeks, cleaned and halved and then topped with a vinaigrette.

Delicious leeks, still covered in their garden dirt...

But no.

Millicent tackled them and turned them into beautiful little pale green, julienned matchsticks. Karl was particularly edified by her technique of first halving the leeks, lengthwise...

and then flattening each half for slicing...

They were so gorgeous that I believed for a moment that spring was just around the corner.

One of the greatest challenges in this meal was that we had planned essentially three vinaigrettes, and I wanted all of them to be different.

Fifty Million Frenchmen and One Vinaigrette-addled Oregonian can't be wrong...

The Gribiche on the asparagus was made with lemon juice, a touch of sherry vinegar, olive oil, capers, loads of parsley, and in the end, a touch of strained Greek yogurt.

The Joy Of Asparagus!

I can't tell you why I did it, but I kept tasting and tasting and looking in the fridge and suddenly the yogurt seemed like a good idea. And it was.

The tang and creaminess of the yogurt played right over the hard cooked crumbled eggs that garnished the dish and the whole vinaigrette coated the asparagus beautifully.

Gorgeous.

Oh, sweet Jeebus...

Millicent busted out the vinaigrette for the Celery Salad with lemon, red wine vinegar, loads of shallots and olive oil. Tough and tangy. Perfect with the poached eggs.

The one that ended up topping the leeks was Dijon mustard-based.

MIllicent using a very precise Dijon mustard measuring instrument...

I also think that these vinaigrettes led to the perfect balance between something ridiculously rich (Roasted Chicken with Calvados Cream Sauce) and bitter citrus flavors and lots of vegetables.

We also had some De Puy lentils...

thanks Kalustyans!

...that were the base to a delicious salad with big shallot chunks,

more mustard vinaigrette and, because I can’t help myself, lardons.

Bacon makes everything better, doesn’t it?

Again, vinegar, onions and citrus balancing out the presence of bacon, perfect to soak up the creamy sauce.

The chicken was elevated to superstardom with the addition of goose fat.

We put pats of butter under the skin, salted it liberally and then rubbed the little babies all over with goose fat.

Then we filled the bottom of the pans with pearl onions and garlic cloves (all unpeeled!!!) and stood the chickens upright to save room.

We parked them in a 500 degree oven for a little over an hour, turning the birds twice.

High-level Poultry Consultation...

Crispy and poultridocious!

When they came out the chickens were carved into pieces,

the onions and garlic were spooned out of the pan and reserved,

and the pan was reheated on the top of the range with the remaining juices.

Then, we poured in some Calvados and set it on fire!

Egad!

When the flames began to lick out, heavy cream, salt and pepper were added and the sauce was reduced and whisked for about 6 minutes...

De-ricious!

...et, voila!

Next, our Potato and Fennel Gratin was Frenchy simplicity at its best.

Sliced fennel, potatoes, salt, pepper, chicken stock and heavy cream,

finished with butter and bread crumbs, of course.

Perhaps an over the top choice, considering the Calvados Cream Sauce with the chicken, but hey... isn’t that why people get on the train and haul ass to Astoria?

There was lots of drinking in the kitchen.

Karl likes to make sure I'm drinking enough water...

And at the finish, Melissa Clark's dessert.

Sometimes it's a game of millimeters in our oven...


Delightful!

I had prepared the meringues that morning, so we just whipped some cream with Crème de Cassis and Mixed Fruit Jam. A dollop of that, a few fresh raspberries (no pomegranates to be found! So I broke my own seasonal rule, and I am glad I did), and serve with a spoon. Big hit.

There was dancing in the kitchen (which, frankly, should always be the case)

and as the evening wound down I found myself getting misty.

I am thankful for people who love to eat, thankful for the culinary brilliance of others that help me learn every time I cook, thankful for all of the help that comes from so many corners - my husband Karl, Peter, Zora, Millicent and so many others.

Peter arranging the Front Of House...

Thankful for the people who have been coming to these dinners for 4 years, and for those of you who get on the train for Sunday Night Dinner in Astoria and enter our dining hall knowing nobody, clutching their bottles of wine and printed directions.

I ended the evening sitting beside one of our all time favorites, Christopher, singing along with Peter's vinyl copy of the Original Cast Recording of A Chorus Line (!!!) Turns out, we both remembered all of the words, even after drinking all night!

Tamara & Karl - Christopher C, 2008 (Sharpie®, wine and chicken grease on butcher paper)

Fucking Delicious - Christopher C. 2008 (Sharpie®, wine and chicken grease on butcher paper)