The Sole Series - Part Three, Sole Meuniere

Oh sole mio! Sole is so simple--yet so frustrating! It certainly should be as easy as each recipe I look at claims it to be. Previously, I'd dallied with the fish for guests, the results sometimes good, sometimes not.

Here, I was making dinner solely for Baby and me:

Ina Garten's "Easy Sole Meuniere" recipe is simple in theory, but there are a few unexplained things that I have to still thoroughly determine, regarding the proper saute pan, level of heat to cook the fish (both resulted in the fish not panning out the way I hoped it would), the correct butter (we used our own this time out). The recipe says to use filets 3-4 oz. each which we did, but the filets also need to be thick. Ours were too thin. The reason why to use thick filets is that sole is a very delicate fish and the first batch fell apart instead of holding firm. The second batch fared better. The problem with many recipes is that the authors rarely explain the "why" about anything.

So what did I learn? Well, I used a pan that I loved, but it was the wrong pan: the sides were too high, the temperature not high enough and as I mentioned, the sole filets too thin (but you could hardly blame us, they were on sale at Whole Foods, though hardly a bargain after all). Use a long, wide rubber spatula, it's hard to negotiate flipping the fish with a metal spatula. I also didn't have enough sauce at the end to pour over the fish and had to add more butter and lemon into the pan at the last minute to finish the fish--I used too much fresh lemon juice.

That's it. We had a decent dinner just the same, with a side of Celery Victor and a few glasses of a lush German clemensbush riesling with a gentle complexity. Stay posted for the next (hopefully less disappointing) sole installment.

Ina Garten's Easy Sole Meunière
Serves 2

As one is often found in a French market with some time on hand, a few randy Euros, and an ounce of inquisitiveness, Ina posits, "One day in Paris, I decided to challenge myself and just go to the market with no menu in mind. Dover sole was in season and I thought, 'Well, I can make sole meuniere without a recipe, can't I?' Yes, I could! I was shocked by how easy and delicious it was. Of course, Dover sole is the best, but you can certainly use gray sole fillets from any fish store. The slightly burnt butter and the fresh lemon zest give this dish a big fresh lemon flavor. I serve two fillets per person."

1/2 cup all-purpose flour

Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper

4 fresh sole fillets, 3 to 4 ounces each

6 tablespoons unsalted butter

1 teasoon grated lemon zest

6 tablespoons freshly squeezed lemon juice (3 lemons)

1 tablespoon minced fresh parsley
"Preheat the oven to 200 degrees. Have 2 heat-proof dinner plates ready.
Combine the flour, 2 teaspoons salt, and 1 teaspoon pepper in a large shallow plate. Pat the sole fillets dry with paper towels and sprinkle one side with salt.
Heat 3 tablesoons of the butter in a large (12 inch) saute pan over medium heat until it starts to brown. Dredge 2 sole fillets in the seasoned flour on both sides and place them in the hot butter. Lower the heat to medium-low and cook for 2 minutes. Turn carefully with a metal spatula and cook for 2 minutes on the other side. while the second side cooks, add 1/2 teaspoon of the lemon zest and 3 tablespoons of the lemon juice to the pan. Carefully put the fish fillets on the ovenproof plates and pour the sauce over them. Keep the cooked fillets warm in the oven while you repeat the process with the remaining 2 fillets. When they're done, add the cooked fillets to the plates in the oven. Sprinkle with the parsley, salt, and pepper and serve immediately.
Note: Zest the lemons with a rasp before you squeeze them for their juice. This dish cooks quickly so I prepare all the ingredients before I start cooking."

Good luck.

Copyright © 2008 by Ina Garten. Photographs copyright © 2008 by Quentin Bacon. Reprinted From Back to Basics with permission from Clarkson Potter/Publishers.

The Sole Series - Part Two, Lemon Sole

I have to admit my first stab at Sole Meuniere was a real lemon, at least to me, and it shouldn't have been: the recipe is not terribly difficult. Honestly, it appeared I was the only one who didn't like it so much. Our guests raved and ate it all; I just knew it wasn't that classic, single dish that stirred Julia Child's soul and launched her interest and subsequent career in mastering the art of French cooking when she first tasted it, in 50's France. Now, I wasn't trying for such transcendence here, I was just trying for something good, unique, and if nothing else, at least properly prepared!

At the most basic level, sole is absolutely delicious, probably whatever you do to it. So that's where I was lucky. My mistake was stupid and stemmed from haste and perhaps even nervousness to prepare a meal that Baby's co-workers (some of whom I had never met) would really enjoy. We had about ten filets and I dipped them in egg, then dredged them in flour. I then stacked them and went about other business when they just should have gone in the buttery frying pan, one at a time, as I dipped and dredged. Instead they just sat there on the plate for only a little while but that's all it took for the flour to become gummy. As I tossed them into the pan, I frantically sprinkled more flour, flipped and carried on with the rest. I guess that saved it in a way, and now I know what to do next time, but I was still (inwardly) disappointed. The sole is finished in a simple lemon and parsley sauce.

Moving on. We wanted to have shrimp for our appetizer, but as good as shrimp cocktail is, it almost seems cliched and a little lax with hardly any effort behind it. I thought of using something other than cocktail sauce but then turned to the idea of gazpacho in cappucino cups served with poached shrimp. Better, but somehow it didn't seem right to start off with. Then I thought of a cold pea soup recipe with mint that I used to make. Better still and more in keeping with the rest of the menu I had planned! I first grilled the shrimp, poached them in pork stock, chilled everything and served our Minty Pea Cappucinos with the shrimp on bamboo skewers tucked inside.

So, for the main dishes (and yes, I'm afraid there's still more to report about the Sole Meuniere) I thought to combine cultural influences (sorry, I sort of ache at the word fusion) and top the fish with sauteed leeks and squash blossoms inspired by the Sole with Zucchini Blossoms recipe I read about in La Cucina Italiana magazine. The leeks were a nice addition surely, but the frozen and stuffed breaded blossoms I had purchased in error turned to a mushy mess when I attempted to sautee them and more so, when in a panic, fried them afterward. They should have just been baked I think. Really I should have bought fresh, as in the recipe from La Cucina Italiana. Thankfully, nobody saw them at all or the act of my throwing them out! Anyway, at least they were inexpensive. The big slab of Filet Mignon came out perfectly medium-rare, in a delicious red wine reduction. I also made a summer favorite, from Saveur magazine that I've been making for about a hundred years now--Trenette col Pesto Genovese, Linguine with Pesto, with potatoes and string beans. It's such a good dish, single-handedly takes care of starch and vegetable sides, and goes very well with either meat or fish, or in this case, both.

La Tur cheese carries the moniker of being the "ice cream of cheeses" and after one luscious, extraordinary bite, I'm sure you'll agree. Seemed like a good idea for dessert. We also got the old girolle out (I wrote a post about it back in May) and spun frilly slices of Tetes de Moine (translating to monk's head) cheese. We put some blanched almonds and dried apricots out and filled an egg cup with quince paste to round out our cheese plate.

Oh and P.S. if a dish really doesn't come out well, then just start plying your guests with a lot of wine. Or order pizza. At least you tried.

Soundtrack: Henry Mancini, Martinis with Mancini; Antonio Carlos Jobim, The Man From Ipanema, Disc 2; Stephane Grappelli, Shades of Django; Lambert, Hendricks & Ross, Everybody's Boppin'; Frances Faye, No Reservations

A Lesson In Evisceration

Much like a cassoulet or braised meat for instance, I've been stewing over just how to write this post.

At a dinner party I threw in November, I'd invited a rather prominent French chef over to teach me how to properly prepare Sole Meuniere. To me at least, it didn't go well. It's amazing how people can either choose to inspire or simply dreadfully consume with their influence. I was deadened and devastated after this dinner--and the surprising thing was it had nothing to do with anything I cooked to accompany the entree of fish. I quickly learned the only thing more finicky than the French are French chefs. Let's see, among other things: he thought the kitchen in our beautiful apartment was too small; he didn't like the wine our guests had brought; he was allergic to the mussels in the soup I had made. He did like my terrine however. How terribly magnifique.

For me, the whole crux of the dinner fell apart with the extraordinarily expensive sole that Baby and I bought. When the Galloping Gaul arrived, after one look, he flung the sole on the counter like I had just handed him...well, a dead fish. Can we talk about utter gall? I had received an email from a member of his personnel of just what to purchase to prepare for the dinner: several pounds of sole, eviscerated, half with skin on and half with skin off. I called several of my friends in the know--what exactly does eviscerated mean? Filleted? Everyone agreed, and the careless, impudent girl working for customer service at Citarella couldn't get off the phone fast enough when I placed the order and checked back in several times. Clearly preferential to attitude over professionalism, she ended up causing me great frustration and regrettably I had relied on Citarella's overblown reputation and purported expertise. I just called them again the other day, simply unable to get over this transgression; I currently lie in wait for reparation of some sort.

A lesson in evisceration: when eviscerating a fish, the organs are removed but the bones stay in--and by the way, I've never encountered a recipe for Sole Meuniere where the bones are in question at all.

I felt like I had been eviscerated but as dining disasters do occur quite frequently, and despite the poor, unfortunate sole, that evening I managed to keep my spine, back straight.

At one point The Galloping Gaul made an apology to Baby for being so rude--he didn't apologize to me, even though I arranged the whole thing--and then proceeded to actually thank him for not having tossed him out on the street for his impertinence. I wish I had. As a supposed educator, what a lost opportunity to educate! The whole point of the evening was utterly lost. My ire still keeps me up at night, in fact right now.

I'm working through my anger. What is patently obvious: when you are a guest in someone's home, being rude or dismissive is impermissible and the worst dish imaginable. Bon appetit.

Tonight's Menu - Sole Meuniere

It worked! It worked! After several miserable attempts at making Sole Meuniere, this one was a triumph. Check out here, here, here, and here. Below is the recipe to follow--at last what was once my Waterloo turned out to be wondrous. What I've learned: make sure you have a cooperative, conducive pan (fairly shallow, and well-heated--an All-Clad skillet is great), a sizable cut of sole filets, not too thin, and the best European butter you can find. And don't let the fish linger once you've floured it; cook it right away.

Lemon sole was the star, served with a reasonable cucumber bisque as a starter, before moving on to a frisee salad with a ton of chopped parsley freshened with a mustard bacon dressing and whole potatoes roasted in olive oil to accompany our main.

Classic Sole Meunière
Recipe adapted by Molly Wizenberg via Bon Appetit magazine 

2 servings

Ingredients
Fish
1/2 cup all purpose flour
4 lemon sole fillets (each about 3 to 4 ounces)
Coarse kosher salt
Freshly ground black pepper
2 tablespoons vegetable oil or canola oil
2 tablespoons (1/4 stick) unsalted butter

Sauce
1/4 cup (1/2 stick) unsalted butter, cut into 4 pieces
2 tablespoons chopped fresh Italian parsley
1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
Lemon wedges

Method:
Fish
Place flour in pie dish. Rinse fish; pat with paper towels. Sprinkle both sides of fish with coarse salt and freshly ground pepper. Dredge fish on both sides with flour; shake off excess. Place on platter.

Heat oil in large skillet over medium-high heat until oil is hot and shimmers. Add butter; quickly swirl skillet to coat. When foam subsides, add fish and cook until golden on bottom, 2 to 3 minutes. Carefully turn fish over and cook until opaque in center and golden on bottom, 1 to 2 minutes. Divide fish between 2 warmed plates; tent with foil. Pour off drippings from skillet; wipe with paper towels.

Sauce
Place skillet over medium-high heat. Add butter; cook until golden, 1 to 2 minutes. Remove from heat; stir in parsley and lemon juice (sauce may sputter). Spoon sauce over fish. Serve with lemon wedges.

Thanks to manhattanpug.blogspot.com for the image!

Tonight's Menu - I'm A Sole Man

When Baby and I last visited friends in Ocean City, NJ, we went to one of our favorite new found places, The Crab Trap, which is a sort of maritime shanty that has been around for years. It's a sprawling, bustling place with lots of great seafood (love the lobster!) and good martinis. We even bought a bunch of paper place mats and appropriated a few bar napkins as well, all emblazoned with the logo. We happened to mention this dining adventure to other friends and so surprisingly, they too know about and love The Crab Trap and have family dinners there, steeped in tradition. So, a dinner menu of fish was set, as was the table, with our somewhat ill-gotten booty: the place mats and napkins.

Our British neighbor had been talking about an old classic lot of steamed prawns, served in beer mugs, so as he and his wife were also our guests, I suggested he bring a bunch over! The sauce is a secret but I do believe Thousand Island dressing is involved.


I'd wanted to make my Wicked Good Clam Chowdah again, so that was a perfect starter, with my father's clams, pulled from the shores of Maine's Muscongus Bay. Crab cakes carried on and then we dove into a heap of Lemon Sole Meuniere. Paula Deen's most delicious Chocolate Bread Pudding was made the day before and acclimated in the refrigerator before being reheated and served to make a very satisfying conclusion to our dinner. My comments about that are in italics.

Stephen's Prawns
Wicked Good Clam Chowder
Crab Cakes
Sole Meuniere
Chocolate Bread Pudding (I didn't make the pecan rum flambe sauce and used Godiva chocolate liqueur instead of coffee liqueur)

Per usual, I got busy with all the cooking and didn't have time to take more photos!

Fishy Soundtrack: Esquivel, Christmas album; Bananarama, Deep Sea Skiving; Cafe del Mar; Beatles, Yellow Submarine; 50's Personal Christmas collection.

Praise The Pearl - Appellation Wines & Spirits

Just when you start to think service has gone to hell in a handbasket, all is wrong with the world, and nobody cares, there is just such a thing as Appellation, a cozy "unconventional wine shop" to save the day. Yes, they've got wines (and I don't think you can go wrong with any of them), but also liquors such as small-batch bourbons and gins.

The service is absolutely unparalleled and the whole experience entirely civilized: the staff is thoroughly knowledgeable and in fact a complete gem about everything--in a pinch, if you don't have time to graze at the shop, they deliver all about the city! Appellation keeps my order history in their database, including an elusive amontillado sherry I purchased to make a Bamboo cocktail and when I called the other day, trying to find a white wine I'd bought probably two years ago that I liked very much paired with a gazpacho I'd made at the time, the perfect gentleman that I spoke to summoned up the label and as they weren't currently carrying it, suggested two reasonably priced similar white rieslings (German clemens busch and French Frederic Mallo), suitable to serve with the Celery Victor and Sole Meuniere that I was attempting to make (again) for lunch this past week.

At the end of the day, it is the little things we remember: the pauses, the graciousness and simple considerations from others that make us feel as if we are still human beings. Ask for Appellation by name.

Cheers!

appellationnyc.com