Day 43 - Omelet with Caramelized Onions

Laura Patinkin and I have been close friends since 1986 - she and Casey (from Day 37) and I met all those years ago performing together in the Equity Library Theatre production of The Pajama Game, my first show in New York City. It will always hold a special place in my memories, particularly for having introduced me to two such great people.

Now that Laura lives in Westchester with her husband and three children, I don't get to see her nearly enough. But we recently joined forces to do a couple of concerts in the Holy Land, aka Boca Raton, which gave us a great excuse to have to spend a lot of time together. And now that the concerts are over, we miss each other! Hence, breakfast today.

Omelet with Caramelized Onions (p. 89)

Yes, it's yet another omelet variation. Would you believe I still have three more left?

This one involves sautéing, well, actually, caramelizing onions for quite a long time, about 45 minutes, the first five minutes or so at a high heat, and then the last 40 with the flame lowered.

I went with Martha's suggestion to add a teaspoon of sugar, to enhance the onion's natural sweetness. It was subtle and just right for this application, given that I also threw a little goat cheese in there. This was a great-tasting omelet.

Jeff: A
Martha: A


I'm posting a picture of Laura with omelet, although she had just been working out and is very self-conscious about how she looked. I have to mention that she's still a total babe (or MILF, I should say) and just to make sure she feels well-represented, I'll show you her headshot, so you can see how she usually presents herself.

Incidentally, I just dug my good camera out of the rubble, and I'll have much better pictures from now on!

Until we eat again....



Laura, post workout, pre omelet






Laura's Headshot

Day 42 - Mango Sorbet

And it was all going so well...

Mango Sorbet (p. 485)

Martha, Martha, Martha... you're not going to like your grade today.

The last thing I want to do is to give my beloved professor a low grade. But this was a real turkey.

The sorbets have been a real surprise for me: I'd never been a sorbet eater. All I tasted was the sugar. But Martha's recipes were so fruity and sparkly, they put all other sorbets to shame. And I couldn't wait for mango! Who doesn't love mango???

I followed the instructions for mango, which involved chopping three of them and pureeing with some water in the food processor. So far, so good.

Then, it was time to put it through a fine sieve. The first sieve I tried, literally not a drop would pass through. Then I remembered that this sieve is too fine for fruit puree, so I moved it over to a less fine sieve, the one that has worked for both strawberry and pineapple puree.

After much stirring and pressing, the majority of the puree passed through. I added the simple syrup and did the egg trick. Have I told you about the egg trick? The trick is, if you have the right balance of puree to syrup, the egg (a whole, raw egg in the shell) will float, revealing a quarter-size piece of itself. If the egg reveals more of itself, you need to add more puree. If the egg is sinking lower, you need to add more syrup.

Well, the egg didn't show at all. So I added more syrup.

Still nothing.

A little more syrup, although it's getting awfully sweet.

Nothing.

Can't put any more syrup in, because it will be all sugar. But that egg isn't moving from the bottom!

So I start adding water.

Nothing.

More water.

Nothing.

Float, damn you, float! I added so much water that I doubled the size of the mixture.

Nothing.

Screw it, I said, I'm going ahead and freezing this anyway.

Cut to: the dullest, wateriest, most nothing sorbet you've ever tasted. Too sweet and no fruity zing. Booooooooo!

I should have chucked the egg trick right away and frozen the sorbet without adding anything extra, but there's a whole passage about getting the sweetness just right, and the egg is the sweet-o-meter, and I wanted to see that quarter-sized piece of egg that I've always seen before...

Martha, you should notate an exception for dense fruits that will never allow an egg to float!

What a disappointment. Next time this happens, I'm skipping the egg trick and taking my chances.

Jeff: F
Martha: F (Now I'll never be on the show!)


Until we eat again....

Day 41 - Omelet with Chopped, Blanched Asparagus and Roasted Winter Squash

Yikes, got a day behind! Let's see if I can remember this far back...

Omelet with Chopped, Blanched Asparagus (p. 89)

Yet another omelet variation from Martha. I would not have thought to blanch asparagus for an omelet, but it's a nice fresh option, with crunchy, bright-green, oil-free asparagus. Tastes great.

Jeff: A
Martha: A


Roasted Winter Squash (p. 313)

I had high hopes for roasted butternut squash. I tossed it with some fresh sage and thyme, and I didn't go for the honey/maple syrup option because I thought there'd be a fair amount of natural sweetness, and as FNBF pointed out, roasting often seems to unleash a lot of natural sweetness in veggies.

Turns out, not so much. The texture of the squash was just right: moist and fibrous, and browned perfectly. But the flavor was a disappointment. Almost bitter, it wasn't anywhere near sweet. I wish I had taken the sugary detour.

Meanwhile, I'm almost done with the roasting vegetables page! All that's left is corn!

Jeff: B (for not sweetening)
Martha: A- (for not making the sweetening mandatory)

FYI, I made another Perfect Roast Chicken tonight, this time with sage and thyme instead of rosemary, and I skipped the bed of onions. Again, very delicious, but the first time was definitely tastier. I'll return to the rosemary and onion version again.

But why does this chicken make my oven smoke so much?? My apartment was positively cloudy!


Until we eat again....

Day 40 - Rosemary-Olive Butter

There was so much eating out this weekend... and no chance to cook! I couldn't let the weekend go by without making anything, so I threw together a new compound butter, because it's always nice to have a compound butter around the house.

Rosemary-Olive Butter (p. 167)

Alysha's going to be so mad, because she's been angling for olive butter since I started this whole thing. This is probably the easiest and tastiest compound butter of all. Total ingredients? Butter, rosemary and olives.

It may not be terribly versatile, and it may not be terribly attractive, but Rosemary-Olive Butter tastes damn good. And everyone loves an olive butter. Right, Alysha?

Jeff: A
Martha: A


Until we eat again....

Note: As some of you may have surmised, I have two best friends named Tracy. When I referenced the picky eater, Tracy, a few entries ago, I was referring to Tracy Christensen, whose website I linked to when I mentioned her. I thought that would be enough to distinguish which Tracy I meant. Alas, Tracy Katz Paladini's friends (and husband!) thought I meant her, which caused her great embarrassment and distress.

So I am hereby proclaiming that:

Tracy Katz Paladini is not a picky eater.

She is a stubborn eater.

Proof: it took her five years to try sushi, eight years to try Pad Thai, and ten years to try tofu, all of which she now loves and eats constantly.

But no, Tracy Katz Paladini is not a picky eater. :-)



R-O-B

Day 38 - Veal Stew with Artichoke Hearts, Fava Beans, and Peas, and Long Grain Brown Rice

Here's another main course that's been on my mind for a while. Especially every time I pass the fava beans at Fairway. I was waiting for the shell peas to arrive, but they haven't, and I figured it would be better to substitute frozen peas for fresh than to pass up an opportunity to use fresh fava beans.

Veal Stew with Artichoke Hearts, Fava Beans, and Peas (p. 205)

This is definitely a workout. There are some cool things to experience while preparing this dish: making a sachet, working with favas, learning how to trim a fresh artichoke to use the heart, making a roux, making a velouté, and tempering yolks (again - twice in one week!). And it's not that anything is terribly challenging - it's just a lot of work. And dishwashing.

First, you make a sachet with herbs, spices, and vegetables (what Martha calls "aromatics"). This is only annoying if you forgot to buy a carrot and have to go out just for that.

Then you deal with the fava beans. This is probably the most aggravating part of the recipe. Shelling fava beans is a pain. Mostly, these pods don't spring open, so you're pulling and cracking and twisting, etc. My fingernails are still messed up from it. Meanwhile, I don't think I've chosen my favas well, since some of them are large (although not as large as I thought they'd be) and some of them are downright small.

Then you have to blanch them, which means waiting for the water to boil. Then you have to move them to an ice bath and drain them. (How many bowls am I going to have to wash for a lousy cup of fava beans?) Then, if all that wasn't bad enough, you have to remove the outer layer to get to the actual fava bean inside! Ugh. Too hard. No wonder Hannibal Lecter liked them. Preparing them could drive me to murder, too.

The veal goes in a saucepan with wine, water, and salt, which you bring to a boil. This creates a considerable amount of veal foam, which gets scooped away. Then you add the sachet and simmer for a while.

While that was happening, I got to work on the artichokes. In the list of ingredients for this recipe, Martha writes: "3 Large Fresh Artichoke Hearts, prepared as directed on page 296, and each cut into sixths." I am 99% positive this is a typo/mistake. Page 296 is a recipe for steamed artichokes, which are served whole. Page 305 is the recipe for Marinated Artichoke Hearts, which contains the exact information you need to prepare 3 Large Fresh Artichoke Hearts. (Is anyone paying attention, re: Second Printing? And just in case I have your ear, please note the misspelling of "beurre" several times on pp. 223-224.)

You may remember, the day I was making the salad that included Marinated Artichoke Hearts, there were no fresh artichokes in any market, so I had to skip it. But today, I got a crash course in getting to the heart of an artichoke. It took messing one up to really figure it out, but I think I have the hang of it now. It's a little dicey, because if you don't work fast enough, the artichoke turns brown. You have lemon water and a lemon half standing by to keep the artichoke well-colored, but if you drag your feet along the way, that little guy will turn so fast....

Making an artichoke heart is one of those things that I never thought I'd have to do in my life, but knowing how to do it makes me feel like a better person somehow.

Eventually, the artichoke hearts go in the simmering veal, as do the peas at the last second. Then the sachet gets removed (beware, a peppercorn slipped through the cheesecloth and ended up in FNBF's mouth - he was not happy - maybe it's best to use extra cheesecloth). The liquid gets strained off and the veal and friends are reserved for later use.

Then the roux: the saucepan is wiped out and butter is melted. Then flour is whisked in and cooked for a little. That's a "roux." Then the strained veal liquid is whisked into the roux. Now, it's called a "velouté."

Then you whisk an egg yolk with some heavy cream, and temper the yolk by adding some velouté slowly and whisking until it's incorporated. This is now called the "liaison," probably because it's what connects the yolk to the hot velouté. You add the liaison to the velouté and cook until the sauce is thickened.

At this point, my sauce is so thick that it's in the realm of Cream of Mushroom soup. Did I do something wrong? It looks so light and liquid-y in the pictures...

The veal and friends go back in, along with the favas, and a splash of lemon juice and a sprinkle of parsley finish it up.

It tastes great. It's a creamy, white stew, with Martha's signature layers of flavors. The frozen peas taste great - I can't imagine fresh ones tasting that much better. The fava beans are practically invisible, mixed in with the peas. The artichoke hearts are cooked perfectly, the veal is tender, and the whole package is really tasty. And crazily filling. But it's so much heavier than Martha's pictures. I can't help thinking that I overcooked the sauce somewhere along the way.

I'm so glad to have made this, but I daresay this will be the first and last time. (Too rich for my blood.) Meanwhile, there's a variation on this recipe that I will have to do, called "Blanquette de Veau," and I'm seriously confused about this one. Martha (or staff), if you're reading, could you specify whether or not there's a roux/velouté step? There's too little information in the book....


Jeff: B (for over-thickening the sauce)
Martha: A


Long Grain Brown Rice (p. 412)

Here's another winner in the grains department. Martha's instructions, which again differ from those on the package, deliver a great end product. And the rice was well-matched with this stew.

Jeff: A
Martha: A


Incidentally, I also served a Martha green salad with Lemon Vinaigrette, topped with the leftover mussels from the other day. Creative, right?

Until we eat again....



FNBF ate his veal with fava beans and a nice Chianti. OK, it was actually Chenin Blanc.

Day 37 - Perfect Roast Chicken, Brown Rice Pilaf with Currants, Pineapple Sorbet, How to Truss a Chicken, and How to Carve a Chicken

One of my first NY friends, Casey and I have know each other for over 20 years, and he's one of my favorite people ever. In my stable of friends, he is second only to Tracy for the title of Pickiest Eater. So my invitation to cook for him tonight was met with this response:

Oh my God! This is awesome! I would love for you to cook,..but you know how picky I am - so maybe we should discuss and then you can say "FXXX you, you pain in the aXX we're going out" if I'm too difficult.

(Censoring by me, fyi.)

As it turns out, I offered him some very safe fare, so there was no cursing, just good honest eats and a picky eater happy and accommodated.

Perfect Roast Chicken (p. 127)

I have to say, I thought this was a very immodest name for a recipe. Until tonight. And now I know, it is completely accurate. This roast chicken is absolutely perfect.

In my other favorite Martha book, Everyday Food: Great Food Fast, there's another recipe for "Perfect Roast Chicken," which is a sort of variation on this one. Tonight, I followed the recipe in my book to a tee, but I did incorporate one thing from the other recipe. I cooked the chicken resting on a bed of sliced onions. Yum!!

This chicken was defrosted and came out great, so my theory from an earlier entry blaming the toughness of the chicken on its having been frozen is now debunked. The chicken gets rinsed and dried, then salted/peppered inside and stuffed with loads of lemon slices, rosemary and garlic. Then, you rub it all over with butter, truss it, salt and pepper the outside and stick it in a skillet in a super-hot oven for not even an hour. Pull it out, transfer it to a plate, deglaze the skillet and make a sauce (Martha, I'm not sure that the sauce needed that extra tablespoon of butter), and then serve.

So easy. So quick. And SO delicious. The rosemary and lemon and garlic deliver so much intense flavor - unbelievable. The chicken is beautiful, browned and perfectly shaped (tucking the wings back and trussing helps in this dept.), and the meat is moist and flavorful. Casey didn't even want the sauce, it was so moist.

The bed of onions are there just to impart flavor during cooking, i.e. you're supposed to discard them after the chicken is done, but I think they're a special secret treat for the chef to enjoy while he's making the sauce. They're basically burnt, but they taste amazing! Mmm.

If you roast chicken, this is definitely a must-try for you. You will not believe the flavor - plus Martha mentions a ton of variations to try, so you can play with an infinite number of combinations and experimentations. This recipe is a perfect example of what I love the most about Martha: she shows us a definitive way of doing a very basic thing.

Jeff: A
Martha: A+


How to Truss a Chicken (p. 113)

I have a countertop rotisserie oven (don't ask), and I've made a handful of chickens in it. And every time I've tried to truss the chicken, it's been disastrous. Following this primer was so easy, now I'm trying to remember how I made it so complicated. This is a 30 second lesson, and it works like gangbusters.

Jeff: A
Martha: A


How to Carve a Chicken (p. 130)

After taking the How to Cut Up a Chicken lesson, this is a piece of cake. The only thing is that the chicken is hot, so it's a little harder to handle. Plus, Casey wanted the whole breast, so I didn't have to do any fancy breast slicing. I served the chicken whole and carved at the table, but maybe next time I make Perfect Roast Chicken, I'll go for the whole pre-carving thing and serve cut-up pieces on a platter. (Uh oh, I'm going to need to get a platter...)

Jeff: A
Martha: A


Brown Rice Pilaf with Currants (p. 415)

This is a variation on the basic Rice Pilaf recipe, where rice gets sautéed in butter before being cooked in the oven. Once I got the go-ahead from Casey that he'd eat rice with currants and almonds in it (you have to check!), I took that variation detour, and it was delicious. The rice cooked perfectly in the oven (I'd never cooked rice this way before). Admittedly, I was expecting something a little more spectacular or exotic, given the sautéing of the rice and the oven cooking and the fact that I used the homemade chicken stock, but this turned out with a very traditional taste and texture. Delicious, for sure, but more traditional than I expected.

Jeff: A
Martha: A


Pineapple Sorbet (p. 485)

Every once in a while, as a chef (I use that term loosely), I've had the experience of thinking, "I've nailed this." For some reason, usually dumb luck, I've hit on some special combination of flavors that seem impossibly well-suited to each other. Well, today I feel confident in saying: I've nailed this. I was looking for a companion for the Vanilla Ice Cream - it was so rich and so sweet, and it needed a friend to bring it down a notch or two.

Pineapple Sorbet is absolutely the perfect companion. It's tangy and tart and sweet and fresh, and it somehow makes sense of the creaminess and over-the-top richness of the custardy ice cream. One ball of each frozen treat, side by side in a bowl? Heaven!

Again, Martha's measurements are spot on. These sorbets practically make themselves! Just the right balance of fruitiness and sweetness, and great texture. I'm such a fool for turning up my nose at sorbet all those years!

Jeff: A
Martha: A


Until we eat again...



Casey presents Perfect Roast Chicken





My perfect frozen combo

Day 36 - Vanilla Ice Cream

With the ice cream maker burning a hole in my consciousness and that sorbet tasting so great, I couldn't stop thinking about what frozen treat I could make next! Hence -

Vanilla Ice Cream (p. 468)

As Martha points out, this is no ordinary ice cream. It's not enough to use just heavy cream and sugar. No. This is a frozen custard, aka French ice cream, so we need to get six egg yolks in there! Holy cow....

Making this ice cream is pretty straightforward. The one thing I did that I'd never done before was tempering yolks. Basically, the cream and milk and vanilla bean and half the sugar get heated on the stove. The other half of the sugar gets whisked with the egg yolks. Then you slowly add a ladle full of the cream mixture to the yolks, whisking all the while. Then, repeat with another ladle full. This ensures that the yolks don't cook like yolks usually do. You can't barrage them with heat, or they'll clump up. So you basically dilute them with some of the cream mixture, which then makes them safe to add to the rest of the cream mixture to heat some more.

I'm a little confused about the extra added corn syrup (three tablespoons at the end). I thought that the cream mixture tasted plenty sweet... But we're following the plan here, so I go along.

The end result is super rich and, as I suspected, super sweet (too sweet for me). It is delicious, but it is so much richer than I'm accustomed to, particularly since my ice cream eating is usually restricted to Tasti D-Lite and Edy's nonfat, no-sugar-added flavors. The vanilla presence is significant, or maybe it just seems that way because I can see the seeds. I can't help thinking that a scoop of tart, fruity sorbet would make a great partner to a scoop of this vanilla ice cream. (Hmm, I'm getting an idea for tomorrow!)

Jeff: A
Martha: A- (I'm still cranky about the corn syrup)

Until we eat again....