Weenie Roast

Tim Burton's wondrous film Frankenweenie arrived in the mail from Netflix so I had a movie night in mind. Our friend had given us ceramic t.v. dinner trays and naturally it occurred to me, "What else to do but make our own t.v. dinners--with weenies!"

I set out ketchup, relish, Dijon mustard and A. Bauer's Mustard with horseradish, an old brand that was somehow unfamiliar to me but turned out to be really great. Mustard with horseradish! As Baby is dutifully reducing, I grilled 98% fat free Hebrew National beef franks in vegetable oil and then grilled Arnold's whole wheat sandwich thins (only 100 calories!) for the buns. Bird's Eye white and yellow corn was steamed in a microwaveable bag for five minutes while all this grilling was going on. Heinz no-fat vegetarian beans simmered in a small pot with a spoonful of the horseradish mustard and a dose of Stubb's hickory liquid smoke. The whole shebang took less than 10 minutes! We put Weight Watchers fat-free cheese on our buns before slathering them with our condiments and added forkfuls of fresh sauerkraut from a local butcher shop on our weenies. Chocolate covered animal crackers for dessert, in the center compartment, of course, was our one unbridled indulgence.

Et voila! Here was dinner before we sat in front of the t.v. and watched Frankenweenie! By the way, I just loved it.

Next Magazine - L'Amant Review

L’Amant
235 W 12th St (btwn W Fourth St/Greenwich Ave), 646-476-8731, LAmantNYC.com

 

Should I one day create a list of my favorite things, pagodas from the Far East and barrels of mischievous monkeys would surely be on it. So imagine my delight when I found both on the pattern of the linen wallpaper at L’Amant. The spot is a tiny wedge stuck into a corner just off of Greenwich Avenue where we eased into our comfy club chairs like we were in an illicit club car on the Orient Express. We enjoyed the tinkling piano and enchanting vocalist from the jazzy trio as we relaxed watching the curling flames from the faux fireplace underneath a looming decorative crimson fan sprayed with cranes and apparent flora. And in case you were wondering, L’Amant refers to French author Marguerite Duras’ novel set in French colonial Indochina, The Lover.

 

We could hardly wait to dive into the cocktails of the house, patiently crafted with a resurrected air from a glamorous era and exotic locales. Truffled popcorn, perfectly popped, was a fun enticement as we perused the list curated by a wonderfully obsessed mixologist. The Black Snake would have made Hemingway proud, with Earl Grey-infused gin, Pear William Purkhart and beguiling bergamot juice coiled around a sturdy orb of ice. At least, it warranted another round. The Mekong River, with apple-and-ginger-infused Wodka vodka, welcomed spring with presiding flavors of mint and cucumber—and had stronger currents than we first thought! (See recipe on p.44) The China Man, with Buffalo Trace bourbon, sherry, bitters and lemon, felt imprudent, so we decided we’d have to return another time for that. 

 

It didn’t take much prodding for me to order a tray of fat Blue Point oysters with good old New England cocktail sauce and a ginger and scallion mignonette in delicious contrast. A bowl of mussels met our mollusks at the table, too, perfumed with ginger and bathed in a rich broth subtly enhanced by cream. 

 

A gorgeous and judicious amount of mock Caesar dressing clung to the stiff frills of kale in the Halong Bay salad—and we noted that these greens provided a healthy dose of protein and vitamins, too. Thin-skinned vegetable dumplings—served with a scallion-soy sauce and a Heinz-worthy chili sauce—were delicious. 

 

We slid past the beef sliders, which might have been a mistake, opting instead for dry, flavorless duck in the steaming shepherd’s pie that sounded so good on paper. While we appreciated the fact that it was served in a cast-iron skillet, the dish was a disappointment and the purported inclusion of foie gras was unnoticeable. However, the browned mashed potatoes on top were divine and we readily forgave any transgressions. We loved the sublime elbow macaroni and Parmesan cheese with a hint of truffles and a crispy top; indeed, mixing our mac and cheese with the mashed potatoes from the shepherd’s pie was a tremendously inspired idea. 

 

There were desserts— such as warm chocolate cake and a trio of mochi confections (green tea, red bean and mango)—but we narrowly escaped, preferring instead to linger over the flavor of the scrumptious mac and cheese. Climb aboard L’Amant, drink wisely and enjoy the ride!

 

Short Order: Serious cocktails and simple fare makes for a great trip East. 

Peter's Picks: The Black Snake cocktail; truffle mac and cheese; kale Caesar salad; the mashed potatoes on top of the shepherd’s pie

Peter's Pans: The bland duck on the bottom of the shepherd’s pie

 

Prices: Appetizers:  $5-$15; Entrée:  $14-$16; Alcohol:  wine, beer, full bar, specialty cocktails.

 

First published in part in Next magazine.  

Photo credit: Gustavo Monroy

Blue Cheese Martini

Dive into this elegant martini served at elmo in Manhattan. It's fraught with reserved blue cheese-stuffed olives. A few of these cocktails could also serve as dinner. Now, this cocktail recipe is designed for your own personal taste, so assemble the ingredients as you will, and then—away we go!

Blue Cheese Martini
Ingredients
Dry vermouth

Vodka

Olive brine

Fresh cucumber (in thinly sliced rounds)

Queen pitted olives

Maytag blue cheese 

Wooden skewers

Directions

Stuff two pitted olives with blue cheese by hand and set aside. Pour a small amount of dry vermouth in a chilled martini glass, swirl to coat glass and toss out excess. Break up a piece of cucumber and place in a shaker full of ice. Add vodka and olive brine to taste (lightly perhaps) and shake vigorously. Strain into chilled vermouth-coated glass. Spike several blue cheese olives on a wooden skewer and lay across the rim of the glass. Crown with a round of cucumber if you wish. Note: The amount of vodka used will depend on the size of the martini glass—but as we always say, the bigger the better!

elmo is located at 156 Seventh Ave (btwn 19th/20th Sts). Visit elmoRestaurant.com for more info.

First published in part in Next magazine. 

A Plucky Pot Pie

This isn't your typical chicken pot pie. As scribed by Melissa Clark with In Praise of Pale Food, this White Chicken Pot Pie diversion is just great and had my guests swooning. The recipe may be found here and below, with my comments in italics. I made a few adjustments over and about, adding in canned potatoes, an assortment of wild mushrooms and substituting canned green beans for suggested frozen peas. Just add these before the dish goes into the oven to bake so nothing is overly mushy.

As any adventure begins when trying out an unfamiliar recipe or creating something new, I was simultaneously unsure and curious how this biscuit topping would turn out as we left the traditional pastry crust behind. In a word: MARVELOUSLY! Added in dollops, the biscuits cooked perfectly in the oven while the filling underneath bubbled merrily.

I was only serving three of us, so this potpie with a simple salad was dinner, lunch the next day and also leftovers. Do enjoy!

White Chicken Potpie

TOTAL TIME

1 hour 45 minutes

Ingredients

3 boneless, skinless chicken breasts (1 1/2 pounds) Nope, an already cooked rotisserie chicken

Kosher salt

Black pepper

3 cups chicken stock

1 cup white wine

2 garlic cloves, smashed and peeled

1 bay leaf

1 thyme sprig

1 rosemary sprig

1 cup plus 2 tablespoons unsalted butter (18 tablespoons), chilled, additional for greasing pan

2 leeks, thinly sliced, white and light green parts

1 shallot, thinly sliced

3 1/2 cups all-purpose flour

1 cup heavy cream, more as needed

1 small celery root or 2 small carrots, peeled and diced (1 1/4 cups) I included 1 1/4 cups mirepoix, the celery, carrot and onion mixture, already chopped

Package of sliced wild mushrooms

1 medium potato, peeled and diced (1 1/4 cups) Sliced up peeled potatoes from a can

1 cup frozen peas, optional Indeed! I used a can of Del Monte French cut green beans that we had instead

1 1/2 teaspoons finely grated lemon zest (from 1 1/2 lemons)

1 tablespoon baking powder

1 1/2 cups buttermilk

3 tablespoons sliced blanched almonds I didn't use almonds, I didn't think the recipe warranted any

Preparation

I skipped this step entirely by using the rotisserie chicken that I later hacked apart and shredded before adding it into the mix.

1. Season chicken lightly with salt and pepper. Let rest 15 minutes. In a medium pot over medium heat, combine chicken, stock, wine, garlic, bay leaf, thyme and rosemary. Bring to a simmer and cook chicken gently until no longer pink, 10 to 15 minutes. Transfer meat to a plate to cool completely. Strain and reserve cooking liquid (you should have about 2 3/4 cups). Once chicken is cool, shred into bite-size pieces.

2. Heat oven to 375 degrees. Lightly grease a 9-by-13-inch baking pan with butter.

The beautiful pale leeks!

 

3. Melt 4 tablespoons butter in a large skillet over medium high heat. Add leeks and shallot and cook until softened, about 5 minutes. 

Add in mushrooms and cook for a little longer until they release their juices. 

 

  

Melt in 4 more tablespoons butter. Stir in 1/2 cup flour and cook, stirring occasionally, 2 minutes. Slowly whisk in the strained stock (I used vegetable stock but chicken stock of course would work) and the cream. Season with 1 teaspoon salt and 1/2 teaspoon pepper. Bring mixture to a simmer. Slice your can of potatoes during the simmer. Stir in celery root or carrot, and potato; simmer over low heat, stirring frequently, 10 minutes (This is where the mirepoix comes into play). Stir in chicken, peas if using and lemon zest. Scrape mixture into prepared pan.

4. In a large bowl, whisk together 3 cups flour, the baking powder and 1 1/2 teaspoons salt. Cut the remaining 10 tablespoons butter into cubes; using a pastry cutter or two forks, mix into flour until mixture forms coarse crumbs. Stir in buttermilk. Dollop mixture on top of potpie filling (it’s O.K. if there are spaces between biscuits). Brush tops with cream and sprinkle with almonds.

5. Transfer casserole to oven; bake until top is golden brown and filling is bubbling, 35 to 45 minutes. Somewhere around 15 minutes into it, I thought to pour in a little dry-ish white wine.

Let cool 10 minutes before serving.

YIELD

8 to 10 servings

Making Mahi Mahi

The Post-It I left on the counter when Baby and I crossed paths was inscribed simply, "Would you like mahi mahi for dinner tonight? With lemon, parsley, garlic and crushed olives that we already have?" When I returned home, I saw he had written over it in a lime-green Sharpie pen, "YES!"

Terribly easy and boy, was it good!

Start with heating up a 350 degree oven. The frozen, vacuum-sealed mahi mahi (two decent servings) from Trader Joe's reclined for a while in the refrigerator for much of the day in anticipation and was quickly thawed in warm water before being placed in an enamel lined Le Creuset tarte tatin pan to rest and acknowledge the salt and pepper dashed on both sides.

Meanwhile, a fistful of mixed olives went into a skillet with garlic and olive oil over medium heat and chatted until they'd softened up after a fine simmer; about 15 minutes or so.

 

More pepper went into this. I threw parsley to wilt on top and tossed the whole thing about as I gently browned the mahi mahi briefly in a little butter and olive oil over medium heat, flipping once. I deglazed by adding about a half cup of bouillon. The olive, garlic and parsley mixture went into the tarte tatin pan and the whole thing went into the oven until cooked to our preferred doneness. It's all very fast work; really only a few minutes, until you smell that it's ready to come to the table. Once out of the oven, let it sit for a moment or two with a judicious spray of lemon which enhances the vibrant finished fish so it may ring the alarum bell to announce, "Dinner is served!" Green beans and a pillow of mashed potatoes are a perfect accompaniment, as is a dry Riesling.

Making Mahi Mahi...mmm...Do enjoy!

Cassoulet 2013

 

I absolutely loved making this version of cassoulet in celebration of my blog's anniversary--and enjoyed eating it even more! Courtesy of Saveur magazine, the recipe may be found here. 

Making cassoulet is sincere, honest work. I fully admit to being slow in the kitchen, but as I have said before, I don't think cooking is a race or a competition. Even though this recipe is very straight forward, despite all the time it took with simmering, stewing, bubbling and whatnot, there was hardly any wait time--I never sat down! You can gun this at seven hours, but this cassoulet should have time to rest overnight, so plan on making it the day before you intend to serve it.

There were already four game limbs of duck confit chilling out in our refrigerator and I devised a very simple way make confit, found here. We didn't have dried great northern (or any small white beans) so I used canned, adding them in later so as not to become overly mushy--and it saves some time too in the cooking process.

Quartered onions and thyme become well-acquainted with ham hocks, covered in water with some salt and pepper.

More onions met up with a browned pork bones (not a ham bone as the recipe suggests) in a heavy bottomed pot. I also subbed bacon ends and bits instead of pork rind.

This part was great: about a cup of garlic cloves went into the blender with another onion and 1/2 cup water to create a paste. I was concerned at first that it was a little watery, but the minute it heated up in the pan with the browned sausage links, it was devastatingly aromatic and so delicious as I dug a spoon into it to give it a taste.

Once everything came together it cooked for three more hours before completely cooling and going into the refrigerator to sleep overnight. It was slowly reheated for another three hours the following afternoon and was timed served to our guests at dinner time without the slightest effort--and more than a moment to catch up over relaxing cocktails. 

Happy Anniversary, Evenings With Peter! And thanks to dear folks for reading!




Soundtrack: C'est Chic! French Girl Singers from the 60's; Diva soundtrack.

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.