BOOK/A TABLE - Dressing for Dinner

Behold the battered, taped-up copy of Valley of the Dolls I bought at the Paperback Bazaar when I was about fifteen years old and desperate to escape New Hampshire. Although I wasn’t quite sure what I was getting into, I ended up tearing through it, enthralled by the depiction of New York (and Broadway!) set in the 40s and 50s. And I told anybody who’d listen to read it. I wasn’t alone of course in my discovery—Jacqueline Susann’s debut has remained one of the all-time bestsellers for over fifty years.

The other night I went to a showing of the infamous 1967 movie version with my friend (he’d never seen it) and I explained afterward how the book has a special place in my heart and differs greatly from the camp spectacle he’d just witnessed. Also there is no bad acting in books.

Gore Vidal (or Truman Capote, depending who you ask) once said Susann’s prose wasn’t writing, it was typing—and although it might not be Wuthering Heights, the book has a brilliant structure founded upon the friendships of three young women struggling to make something of themselves. Susann was also a marketing visionary, a brand-name novelist who brought Peyton Place to Manhattan and paved the way for many romance writers to come.

Valley of the Dolls made me fall in love with New York and confirmed my decision to make it my home. Visions of the old El Morocco and the Stork Club danced in my head and after I moved to Manhattan, ‘21’ certainly became one of my favorite places to eat—no, to experience! 

Before ‘21’ closed a few years ago, I had the privilege to chat with its former executive chef Michael Lomonaco at a press event. I gushed over the shallot and champagne vinaigrette in his cookbook, which feature recipes from the fabled venue. So, when Anne Welles, the heroine of Valley of the Dolls arrives at ‘21’ dressed to the nines, I can’t help but imagine her salad was dressed with Lomonaco’s perfect vinaigrette—and my go-to favorite.

“Anne rushed into ‘21’ and joined Henry at his usual front table. Henry noticed that every man in the room had turned to look at her. She wore eye makeup and her hair was fuller, like a lion’s mane...she was exciting now. Anne laughed and ordered a salad.”

                              

Shallot and Champagne Vinaigrette
Yield: 1 cup

Ingredients:

1/4 cup champagne vinegar
1 tablespoon Dijon mustard
1 tablespoon granulated sugar
4 large, peeled shallots
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon ground white pepper
3/4 cup extra-virgin olive oil

Method:
In the bowl of a food processor fitted with a metal blade, process the vinegar, mustard, sugar, shallots, salt, and pepper until the shallots are finely chopped. With the processor running, add the oil very slowly in a small stream until all the oil has been incorporated and the dressing has achieved a silky, smooth texture. The dressing may be stored, covered, up to 2 weeks in the refrigerator but should be brought to room temperature before using.

Play Reading - All About Eve

This month we took to the living room to enact All About Eve, the scintillating classic drama about a neurotic, aging (she's only turning 40!) actress and the young upstart who schemes to uproot her life. The reading was different this time, we weren't reading from a copy of a staged play--I had found a transcript of an old Lux radio play, edited to fit the format--and actually featured the star of the film, none other than Miss Bette Davis.

As the legendary New York restaurant '21' figures into the film, I was inspired to create a menu from one of my favorite cookbooks, '21' of course, that was given to me by a dear friend years ago, with recipes by chef extraordinaire Michael Lomonaco. I set the table to mimic the tables at '21' with red and white checkered napkins, and cocktail napkins and stirrers from the joint that a bartender was kind enough to give me when I had recently visited. And of course there was a wide-rimmed martini glass for decoration.



Tonight's Menu
Chilled Relish Tray (celery, radishes and black olives)
Butter Lettuces with Peas & Shallot Champagne Vinaigrette
London Broil with Roasted Shallots
"Cold Cocoa" Cups

I filled a copper gratin pan with crushed ice and placed my dish of appetizing raw vegetables upon it before we began reading, as we caught up with a few glasses of wine.

Simple butter lettuces with peas served as a wonderful salad, dressed with Lomonaco's utterly distracting vinaigrette.

A London Broil steak was cooked well enough in an attempt to evenly gauge everyone's taste for doneness. Our off-oven preparation may be found here from a great New York Times article. The recipe for accompanying roasted shallots was pulled from the '21' cookbook and tasted like we had entered a Parisian bistro when paired with the meat.

The shallots before, performing a merry dance all on their own, quite bouncing about, as they sauteed in butter...

And after, being roasted in the oven with sugar, butter, salt, pepper and chicken stock for about 40 minutes until they become such a lovely gold brown.

The meat of the matter!

The '21' flourless chocolate torte that we intended to make had some issues--Baby and I couldn't unmold it from the pan! Julia Child once lamented (more or less) that "cooking is one disaster after another!" But as with any recipe, calmed assurance, control and a touch of ingenuity must also be added to the list of ingredients. We scooped the torte out of the pan as there was nothing wrong with it except for its unwillingness to budge, and into some elegant cups from a vintage coffee service. We topped this with spurts of whipped cream and blossoms of dark chocolate curls for a truly fabulous dessert.

It started out this way,  with sugar and corn syrup brought to a boil.



Ten whole eggs goes into this torte, beaten in an electric mixer to a frenzy!

Melting the chocolate in a double boiler until it turns to...

shimmering chocolate silk for the rich base of your torte!

Although our torte wasn't what we had hoped for, and it pained us to disrupt our confection in such a way as we did, nobody was the wiser and practically licked their cups clean. So don't tell everybody all about our evening.

Soundtrack: Atlantic Jazz, Hits of the 50's; Jorge Bolet, Lizst, Piano Works, Vol. 1; Applause, Original Broadway Cast.

Grill, Un-interrupted

 

Baby and I are probably the only people you have perhaps ever encountered who travel with their own meat and basting brushes. To clarify, we were heading to the wilds of Maine with a fine grilled menu in mind and were unsure of the cuts of beef we may find there, and as we were renting, who knew what cooking utensils the kitchen might hold? We at least were assured that there would be a grill, as transporting that might prove to be cumbersome.

Behold our lovely centerpiece, composed of driftwood and curls of birch bark that we found along the shores of Muscongus Bay...

and frilly ferns, great leaves, twigs, tiny pine cones and berries from along the hill next to our pot that would soon hold roasted corn.

Grilled Romaine lettuce!



Tonight's Menu
Roasted Pepper S'mores--an old Martha Stewart classic that I've been making for years. Splitting a variety of brightly colored peppers in half (try to keep them hinged), remove the seeds. Stuff with slices of mozzarella cheese and sprigs of rosemary. Drizzle with olive oil inside and out, with ground salt and fresh black pepper. Close up the peppers and get to grilling until cheese has melted and the peppers have those lovely char marks. 
Roasted Corn--brush your ears, husks and all, with olive oil and roast on the grill for at least 45 minutes. When cool enough to handle, peel and delight in smoky revelry, rolled in lots of butter.  
Grilled Romaine Lettuce with Lemon-Anchovy Vinaigrette--click here and add anchovy paste to the dressing and sub lemon juice for the Champagne vinegar. Brush your greens with vigor before tossing on the grill.
Chimichurri Steak--click here for a version of the sauce with Rib-Eye steaks. Ours were flank cuts.
Strawberry Shortcake--nothing easier than the best berries you can find with some cream of tartar biscuits and Cool Whip!

Spring Fling!

My brilliant cousin gave me a beautiful vintage table cloth with bouquets of muted pink and teal flowers against a bordered pale blue and white background. When she saw it at a flea market it struck her because she remembered from a recent visit that we had set of hand-embroidered floral napkins that would match perfectly. She also paired this with a set of blue candlesticks to wrap up the whole thing, suggesting it would be an idyllic spring table setting. But who can wait? I hastened to set up a somewhat wintry table with the promise of spring just bursting through and launched my Spring Fling!

Behold this woodland creature who stopped by!

An issue of Gourmet magazine set the stage for this one, from January of 2008. The fabulous menu for eight is quite extensive and looked absolutely exhausting and impossible to execute without staff! I just cut down on the outrageously overwrought menu and corners as well to make it as simple as I could. I prepped the sugared blackberries days before, planned my table, braised the pork in advance and had the pots and pans I would need at the ready the day of the party. Don't forget to chill lots of white wine! Biscuits were courtesy of Pillsbury.

Champagne punch was served first before we moved to the dining table for my Night and Day Souffle and hot biscuits with butter and honey. Pork hash accompanied sumptuous shrimp and grits, followed by a respite of winter lettuces with warm bacon dressing. Ambrosia, sugared blackberries and biscuits ensued with a bread pudding of sorts until we were all appropriately flung!

THURSDAY:
Sugared Blackberries
This was so nice--do take the three days to macerate your berries though, and take them out of the refrigerator to tend to them once a day by briefly stirring.

FRIDAY:
Made Braised-Pork Hash
Adding homemade vanilla extract at the end was my own invention, otherwise I would have tossed in a split vanilla bean at the start, had I not thought to do so too late. It was a great idea--and if only fortitude had won over timidity, I would have added more.

SATURDAY:
Double-checked my lists and chopped/sliced/diced whatever I could.
Made "Bread Pudding" with cubes of a Betty Crocker orange cake, added in Jell-o banana pudding, later to be drizzled with chocolate sauce and topped with fresh strawberries.

SUNDAY: Spring Fling!
Champagne Punch
This was so good. Can be chilled up to 3 hours before serving; Champagne bubbles in at the end.

Night and Day Souffle
I couldn't be bothered with the timing of the creamed eggs with spinach and country ham found here. It looks really wonderful, just too much. My Night and Day Souffle is much easier. For this version, I just beat 8 eggs together with heavy cream, chopped bacon and chives, salt and pepper and a little grated Parmesan on top. It goes into a 350-degree oven for 40 minutes or so and DONE. Serve it quickly though while it is puffed up and strutting; soon it naturally does collapse. Put up a side of Pillsbury biscuits with honey and butter.

Lowcountry Breakfast Shrimp
Prep your onions (just slice them and ignore the worry-work of a fine dice), garlic and scallions the night before. Cook them in butter ahead of time and add in the shrimp later, just before serving. Dredge half of the shrimp in flour and work in to create a nice creaminess that won't overcook the shrimp. Threads of thyme are a recommended (by me) addition.

Creamy Stone-Ground Grits
Use instant grits instead of all the folderol and add heavy cream, milk and butter to your liking. Enough already.

Braised-Pork Hash
This is not difficult at all. The braising just takes a lot of time so just move on to other things like laundry while the meat simmers down and falls off the bone.

Winter Lettuces with Warm Sweet-and-Sharp Dressing
Again, couldn't deal with all of this--oy, boiling vinegar, reducing? Ugh. I adapted my go-to Shallot and Champagne Vinaigrette courtesy of Michael Lomonaco, found here. And I made it the day before in the food processor and kept it in the refrigerator instead of huffing and puffing over an oven. I subbed cider vinegar for Champagne vinegar; brown sugar for regular sugar; 1/4 cup melted bacon grease with 1/2 cup olive oil instead of just 3/4 cup olive oil to create an entirely new, hassle-free dressing. Crumbled bacon was thrown in over the salad and a little extra bacon grease (warmed from the microwave) too. Jaws dropped.

Ambrosia
So easy and delicious--from jars of Del Monte supremed white and pink grapefruit and oranges, no apologies! I wasn't about to supreme 8 navel oranges. The only thing that takes any time is the chilling of this dessert in the fridge. And no, I did not roast a whole coconut in the oven and hack it apart. A bag of shredded coconut is quite serviceable. Please.

Sugared Blackberries
Served with a pillar of more biscuits, cold this round.

Our Orange Cake and Banana "Bread Pudding" is seen below.

Do you know how to spring fling?

Soundtrack: Lawrence Welk, Champagne Time; Art Van Damme Quintet, Manhattan Time; Stephan Grappelli, Shades of Django; Bossa n' Madonna; Combo; Fleetwood Mac and Annie Lennox lingered on

Lame Duck

Sometimes dinner parties just don't work out and our guests fall apart. The evening I present here dissolved into something most disappointing, frustrating and ultimately just plain exhausting. I'd hoped to write with absolute vigor about my Duck Pot Pie but I can't find it in me. The food was great, really great in fact, and took me several days to prepare. I made the stock a week ahead of time and froze it. I made my own duck confit, in a brilliant shortcut. So much for that. Here are the salted legs:

Set your simple table and take these recipes as you will, inspired by Good Dog Bar and Restaurant in Philadelphia where Baby and I spent our Easter weekend. Do find pleasure in creating a truly special dinner, at your own home. As always, wish for the best and choose your guests wisely.

Menu
French and Australian Cheeses on a rustic cutting board with crackers and a bed of parsley
Baby Arugula Salad with Blood Orange & Bacon Vinaigrette
Duck Pot Pie with a side of Corn Bread (the linked recipe is similar to what I did but I would hardly find all the butter or eggs to be necessary; incorporate at your own discretion). Black truffle honey is shrewd indeed for dipping
Rich Chocolates for dessert with pink Peeps, almond cookies, and Brandy, Armagnac, as you go

Dressing for your salad course: use the chart of my favorite Michael Lomonaco's Shallot and Champagne Vinaigrette with a few alterations. As classic duck a l'orange is so delicious I thought that using blood orange olive oil would set the whole duck deal up perfectly, which it did, with ribbons of bacon flavor too to stand up to the approaching game bird. Use 1/4 cup red wine vinegar, 1 tb Dijon mustard, 1 tb sugar, 4 peeled shallots, 1/4 tsp salt, 1/4 ground black pepper--throw into a blender and then slowly incorporate 1/2 cup blood orange olive oil and 1/4 cup softened bacon grease. Creamy, divine, and far more interesting than impeding company!

Click Duck Pot Pie for the recipe. The link from Saveur will help you make your own duck confit that the recipe requires but I suggest cutting to the chase as I did (otherwise buy it already done from D'Artagnan or a local butcher): pull the duck fat off the legs, render it in a cast iron skillet to release the most fat and when it's at room temperature, set the fat aside in the fridge. Pour coarse salt on all sides of the stripped duck legs, cover and leave to consider in refrigeration for at least eight hours. Wipe off the salt and slather with your rendered duck fat (I didn't "submerge" as the recipe calls for); put in a 250-degree oven for about 90 minutes, turning over once, halfway through. When you make your filling, keep the duck meat on the bone for flavor while it fully cooks in the stuff and then remove the legs. Once simmered down to a manageable temperature, use a deft fork or your own hands to pull off the meat and then proceed to stuff the innards of your extraordinary pie with abandon.

Chicken Cassoulet

Et voila, the second anniversary of my blog!

To commemorate the event, once again I made cassoulet, in order to fondly remember the first evening I ever wrote about on Evenings With Peter. And just get a gander at the marvelous set of cassoulet bowls that Baby and I snagged from a rock bottom sale at Williams-Sonoma, cassoulet baking dish included! Forsaking duck confit, I made this version with bone-in chicken thighs, not with the suggested chicken leg quarters. Here they are about to be browned in the cassoulet baking dish with a little olive oil.

As I had overbooked myself, I made the cassoulet on Thursday and let it cool before refrigerating so all the ingredients could get to know one another for the dinner on Saturday. We subbed Polish boczek and krayana for the the bacon and sausages, respectively. Into the oven you go, dear!

At our dinner party, we first sampled cold foie gras and then seared foie gras au Perigord with a drizzle of blood orange olive oil, which worked out quite well--spread over thinly sliced baguettes naturally. Baby and I served the cassoulet with a salad of shredded Boston lettuce and a warm bacon vinaigrette (a version of Michael Lomonaco's Shallot and Champagne Vinaigrette--1/4 cup red wine vinegar, 1 tb Dijon mustard, 1 tb sugar, 4 peeled shallots, 1/4 tsp salt, 1/4 ground black pepper--all thrown into a blender and then slowly incorporated with 1/2 cup olive oil, 1/4 cup bacon grease).

Once bringing the cassoulet back to room temperature on the day of the dinner and then adding the bread crumbs, reheating for the additional 30 minutes was a snap. As my guest observed, the resulting cassoulet was like the classic, but also like a fricassee; in fact, the best of both!

We had lemon sorbet with a sprinkling of thyme for a gentle refresher afterward.

Thanks to folks for reading Evenings With Peter!

Chicken Cassoulet
Adapted from Le Creuset

Ingredients
3 tablespoons olive oil
1 cup chopped smoked bacon strips
1 lb herb flavored pork or beef sausages
2 medium red onions, sliced thickly
3 medium carrots, sliced thickly
2 garlic cloves, crushed
8 leg quarters of chicken, divided into 2 pieces and skinned
2 14.5 oz. cans of diced tomatoes and their juice
1 14.5 oz. can of cannellini beans, drained
2 tablespoons tomato paste
1 rounded teaspoon dried thyme
3 tablespoons fresh chopped parsley
2 cups coarse white breadcrumbs
Salt
Freshly ground black pepper

Method
Heat the oil in the cassoulet dish, add the bacon and sausages and fry both until they are lightly browned. Add the onions, carrots and garlic and continue frying for 2-3 minutes. Using a slotted spoon, transfer these ingredients to a plate.

Add the chicken pieces to the hot oil and brown evenly. Return the other ingredients together with the chopped tomatoes, beans, tomato paste, thyme, 1 tablespoon of the parsley and some seasoning. Stir well. Cover and transfer to the oven for 1 1/2 hours or until the chicken is tender. Remove the lid.

Mix together the breadcrumbs, remaining parsley and plenty of seasoning. When the chicken is tender, scatter this evenly over the top and return the open pot to the oven for 30 minutes, or until the top is pale golden brown.

By all means, add flowers to welcome any new season such as the burgeoning spring!


Soundtrack: Esperanza Spalding, Chamber Music Society; Peggy Lee, Classics; Sarah Vaughan, Personal Collection; Rumer, Seasons Of My Soul; Marilyn Maye, The Lamp Is Low

Praise The Pearl - Penzey's Shallot-Pepper

It does seem a little strange to me that there was a time when I didn't know about shallots, because I use them all the time now, when in need of a more rarefied onion, or when I make Michael Lomonaco's Shallot-Champagne Vinaigrette, which I often do. But back when I was in high school, the word shallot first jumped out at me somewhere around my sophmore year I think, as an ingredient listed on a tin of escargots, to be minced, and then prepared with butter and parsley in a bubbling broth. I vividly remember the night my father first brought home the striated caramel and ivory colored shells (which we still use), to be filled with the plump escargots and how my mother subsequently rushed out to the supermarket to find something called shallots.

My father got a Purple Heart in WWII and has otherwise always had an air of adventure around him, with a touch of curiosity that he has handed down to me. Like a boy who brings home a stray cat, he used to come home with such preposterousness as pomegranates or stalks of sugar cane (remember, this was the '70's in New Hampshire, we didn't know from the currently ubiquitous Pom brands or Mojitos) so we could try them and tell him what we thought. He was always encouraging me to want to know things, to try things, unlike children today who are enabled to eat only chicken fingers while texting their BFF's.

The Old Man introduced me to oysters and escargots in Canada, Duck a l'Orange in New York, and bought my first suit and pair of wingtips before I went to school abroad in London just in case I might need to appear presentable. And you know what? I did need to appear presentable; one carefree college day my friends and I skipped class to have an afternoon tea at The Ritz. We were all only about 20 years old!

At 82 years old, my father still calls himself a farmer, indeed he was brought up on a farm, but frankly he is the finest, mannered gentleman I've ever known, with the soul of an artist, his stock and trade, while at it.

Having taken the long way around, although I do think it is important to cite one's references, let's get back to the idea of the shallot and the Shallot-Pepper blend with dried tarragon that can turn a Hollandaise into a Bearnaise or add new life to Easy Mac. It's just waiting at Penzey's, purveyor of the best spices, and can be collected easily enough from the stand in Grand Central Station or by catalog, and online.

So what do I do, now that Shallot-Pepper has got me reminiscing like Proust's madeleines?

Collect my thoughts, cluttered memories and go to bed, I suppose.

At the end of an ordinary day, it's somewhat of a mix between truth and imagination that persists.

Duck, Duck, Goose!

Tiny telephoned, telling me she was blowing into town, so I urged she come for dinner. Now, the hearty gal likes to eat--a lot. Of course, I wanted the meal to be special, too--so what seemed in order? Nothing less than a festive Duck a l'Orange, which always reminds me of the first time I came to New York, when my Dad took me to dinner at the glorious Algonquin Hotel, while I was in high school. I still remember sitting in the Oak Room with him, both of us nattily attired, ensconced in a banquette, starting with our plates of escargots. We didn't serve such things as duck in New Hampshire, that I was aware of anyway, much less dressed with something as profound as an orange sauce. But I recklessly ordered the duck and in a single, simple moment, created a memory.

I had never tried actually making duck before, although I have cooked a goose! Both incidentally required dry vermouth (a good use for it apart from waving the bottle over a dry martini) and when I made the goose, it was to concoct a New Year's Eve feast fit for a queen (he's actually a very nice guy once you get to know him). At that particular fete, caviar and blinis were up first, a Lobster Salad poached in Court Bouillion was next, courtesy of Michael Lomonaco's '21' cookbook. And as the Christmas holidays generally tend to speak Dickens to me (ghosts in full attendance!), a Goose with Gooseberries seemed appropriate as the centerpiece. I used a recipe from a Reader's Digest cookbook volume from 1973, Secrets of Better Cooking, that an elderly cousin (who has since passed, bless her), a woman very influential to me, handed down some years ago. I braised fennel and radicchio for complementary side dishes and served Red Velvet Cake as dessert. Of course, there was also champagne creating quite a good way to ring in the New Year.

But back to the Roast Duck a l'Orange at hand! Looking to Julia Child's recipe in The French Chef Cookbook (The Nineteenth Show), I set out to find the fowl, which was no mean feat. None of the nearby supermarkets had duck but I did find an independent neighborhood butcher that sold the game five-pounder. Once I was back home, I peeled the fat off and pricked the skin as Julia says, much like I remembered doing with the goose, to release the fat. But unlike the goose, there was no basting involved. I salted the cavity of this bird, peppered and stuffed it with orange rind, which Tiny came over early to help with and supremed the oranges (peeling the rind and separating the segments from the pith with a paring knife). We turned the duck every quarter hour until cooked, allowing an hour-and-a-half at least. The orange segments then conspire with orange liqueur such as Cointreau to make the sauce. Orange bitters are also involved! You may also want to consider using Patron Citronge, I would like to try that next time.

We served French pitted olives in a martini glass as an hors d'oeuvre before serving a leafy salad (shorn red and green leaf lettuces with simple oil and vinegar dressing) as a starter. Tiny commandeered the sauteed buttery shoestring potatoes that Julia encourages as a side, which we also made with parsley and duck fat, as the duck finished. Now while one guest could never eat the actual duck or any sort of game (we made her a special Chicken Paillard), she did confess a desire to get into the bowl with the duck fat potatoes and eat her way out. I was so pleased with the potatoes and especially the duck, when the dish was finally presented. Not only was the sauce good, but the duck itself was truly, delicately infused with the flavor of the orange.

So what of dessert? I thought back to that dinner in the Oak Room, eating escargot and my first Duck a l'Orange, where I finished it all off with my first gigantic slice of of New York cheesecake. Bien sur! That was just what to have! Tiny brought a very big cheesecake, courtesy of Junior's that we could all share for dessert (at least that was the hope!). We toasted the whole dinner in honor of my Dad, who swore he was working out the train timetable so he could meet with us.

As wine continued to flow, we broke out the Barbra Streisand cds and into song as well. Baby capped off the evening with his unparalleled version of Goldfinger by Ms. Shirley Bassey.

Et alors, mes amis, a dinner of duck destined to delight and apparently, one that also inspires song!

Soundtrack: Astor Piazolla, Tanguedia de Amor; Martinis with Mancini; Henry Mancini, Combo!; Lee Morgan, Cornbread; The Ramsey Lewis Trio, The In Crowd

Chicken Livers a la Francaise

A quiet night at home was most wonderfully attended by making Julia Child's recipe for Chicken Livers a la Francaise from The French Chef Cookbook. After all, not every evening can be besotted by an exquisite, labor-intensive dish like Coquilles Saint-Jacques. We usually save dishes like that for guests! In keeping with our attempt to more fully utilize our stack of cookbooks, we once again looked to Ms. Child's epic tome for the Chicken Liver recipe which is as simple as it is satisfying, instead of being as time consuming as it is caloric. And besides, Baby is on Weight Watchers, so we lightened it up a little.

We both, Baby and I, have a long history of eating chicken livers, as well as comforting memories that we associate with them, having been fed chicken livers since we were children. Our parents just used to fry them up, with a little salt, pepper and onions. My father would even throw some chicken hearts in there, which I loved and ate with abandon (I still do). Years later, a friend in college dipped the livers in bread crumbs too before sauteeing them for me. Not only did I still think they were delicious but they were about ten cents a pound at the supermarket and what college student can balk at that?

Keeping Baby's fat intake in mind, I didn't purchase any bacon such as Applewood Smoked (my favorite) or even turkey bacon to go with our livers, which I have incorporated before with much success. Nor did I light the thing on fire with a few jiggers of brandy. I just followed Julia's recipe, straying only in using an Osborne Tawny Porto I had on hand instead of the Marsala wine that she lists. I also did not toss them in a final tablespoon of softened butter. I don't think it's really necessary. The dish came out very well, and we were both very pleased with our delightful dinner. I tore up some green leaf lettuce for a side salad and drizzled on it my favorite Shallot Champagne Vinaigrette from Michael Lomonaco's '21' Cookbook, and placed Baby's chicken livers on a bed of spinach (as Julia suggests), which I had steamed with garlic, parsley and thyme. A glass of a French Michel Girard & Fils Sancerre was a perfect accompaniment--Baby had a Pellegrino.

Et fin mes cheres, what a lovely evening at home with Chicken Livers a la Francaise!

Soundtrack: The music of good conversation.

Cassoulet

Baby and I were just enthralled watching DVDs of Julia Child's show The French Chef and became so inspired that we decided to really try and utilize any of the many cookbooks filling the shelves in our pantry more frequently. The French Chef Cookbook that features recipes from the ground-breaking show was a natural to start with and first up was Cassoulet (The Thirty-ninth Show)! And you must say it as she would have, like a flute stuffed with cotton. Cassoulet!

Now, we don't shy away from the complicated meals, the ones that take a week to prepare. Ask our recent guests that reveled in Onion Soup, Lobster Yorkshire Puddings with a vanilla chive sauce and tarragon chiffonade as a precedent to our Filet Mignon (with homemade demi glace) and a side of asparagus drizzled with Michael Lomonaco's Shallot Champagne Vinaigrette from '21'. But we certainly picked a doozy to start out with in recreating Julia's Cassoulet. We started on Monday, and finished on Friday, shortly before our guests arrived.

Apart from the food served, the success of any dinner party hinges upon the guests involved. Ours were split into three camps, who were excited for three different reasons. For the Sisters M, Cassoulet is their favorite thing, and they immediately set out to find red wines for a perfect pairing; Slushy had never tried the dish before; and Islip (Slushy's boyfriend) had never heard of anybody taking a week to prepare a meal. I recently learned that we inspired him to make a somewhat elaborate meal of his own for Slushy. That's perhaps the most exciting news.

Once we had settled on our main dish and the guests involved, I started thinking about what else to serve--and I must say that everything we created for this meal was a really wonderful journey. So Cassoulet is probably the most hearty dish ever, right? I didn't want to serve cheeses, meats, or anything else to weigh our guests down. I remembered from years back a friend had served salted radishes with butter as a starter. Perfect! I kept the leafy greens intact and spread them across an olive wood cutting board with a ramekin of butter on the side. Not only did it all look gorgeous by the flicker of candlelight, the radishes were quickly devoured.

Recalling an article from Saveur (my favorite magazine, I've kept every issue--it features Reese's Cups as readily as it does foie gras), I thought an elegant platter of white asparagus with pink-tinged tips would make for a superb first course. It certainly wowed our friends, and never having made it before, wowed Baby and I as well. It was Saveur that taught us to shave the tough skin of white asparagus, which you don't have to do with the green variety, and simmer the stalks in water with butter, lemon and salt (I assume to remove the bitterness). I added Bay leaves to the water for another layer of flavor. Riffing on the aforementioned Shallot Champagne Vinaigrette, I brushed a blend of lemon and oregano infused olive oils, garlic, and white wine vinegar on the asparagus.

The Cassoulet was well worth the time spent. It was decidedly a hit! We had prepared our lamb on Monday, and made our sausage cakes. Tuesday, we roasted the pork! As we had theater tickets on Wednesday, we took the night off. Thursday, we soaked our beans and prepared for the final assembly. Then the Cassoulet only had to bake for an hour before it was ready to go.

We had just planned on serving lemon sorbet with basil for dessert but I was unsatisfied with that. How do you serve something as rich as Cassoulet and then cap it off with sorbet? No, we needed a bejeweled crown. Then the March issue of Gourmet magazine arrived with a recipe for Chocolate Raspberry Clafoutis ("somewhere between custard and cake") and it was easy as pie. Most of it's done in a blender and couldn't be more jaw-dropping.

Et voila, mes cheres, here we have a perfect evening suited for Cassoulet!

Soundtrack: Martinis with Mancini; Austin Powers Soundtrack; Serge Gainsbourg, Couleur Cafe; Paris Combo, living-room