Gazpacho with Balsamic Glaze

For my inaugural French Laundry at Home experiment, I chose the Gazpacho (pg. 35) with the recommended Balsamic Glaze (pg. 238).

Truth be told, the Gazpacho would be best made in summer with fresh ingredients, but my local Whole Foods had everything I needed and the quality of the produce seemed okay to me. I'm a big fan of cooking with what's actually in season, but in this case, I wanted to start with one of the book's easier recipes so I could gently ease myself into this crazy project.

Back to the Gazpacho... here are the ingredients:



Next, you to mix them in a large bowl and refrigerate overnight. Here's what it looked like before I covered it and put it in the fridge:


Pretty, huh? The book recommends making a balsamic glaze for this, so I did that last night, too, so the reduction would have time to cool down to room temperature today. Here's the prep work I had to do for the Balsamic Glaze:


Here it is in the early stages of reducing to a glaze:



The whole process of reducing the balsamic vinegar took about 2 1/2 hours, and my kitchen still smells a bit vinegary today, but I don't mind. The Balsamic Glaze should be stored at room temperature and drizzled onto the Gazpacho before eating it. I have lots of it left over, so I'll have to see what else I can make that uses this glaze. It's sharp and bright, but with a sweet and tangy aftertaste. It's the consistency of molasses... maybe even slower and thicker.

After the Gazpacho ingredients spent the night in the fridge, I removed the sprig of thyme and poured the ingredients into a blender, pureeing them until smooth. And now, the finished product in a bowl and ready for lunch:



Delicious. I took some across the street so that my neighbors could try it. Their ten-year old son loved it -- even the balsamic glaze. We're having abnormally warm weather here in DC for January, so I almost felt like it was summer. Well, not really, but you know what I mean. In eating this, I was reminded of the Spanish exchange students my parents hosted one summer. They used to cook for our family on weekends when they had their other exchange-student friends over, and I still remember how good that food was -- very different from the PA Dutch cooking I grew up with. I know they made gazpacho, but I can't remember exactly what theirs tasted like -- I just remember it made me want to go to Spain for cooking classes (which, 20 years later, I have yet to do). This is as close as I'm gonna get for awhile.

Whew! Two recipes down, soooo many more to go. This is fun! (Remind me of this sentiment when I'm knee-deep in trying to poach quail eggs and tearing my hair out making veal stock from scratch.)

Brands used:
Produce from Whole Foods
Antica Italia olive oil and balsamic vinegar
Muir Glen
Le Crueset
Pryrex

Music to Cook By: Original Soundtrack from "Invincible" (hey, the Eagles lost in the playoffs Saturday night, so this was a bit of a shout-out to them. Plus, the word "invincible"? Not a bad mindset to be in for this project.)

Pecorino Toscano with Roasted Sweet Peppers and Arugula Coulis

I don't know about you, but every day at around 3 o'clock in the afternoon, I hit a slump. I can't focus on work. I don't feel like talking on the phone. I'm not even interested in reading gossip web sites. Because I own my own business and I work from home, thankfully I can just quit work early when this slump hits... and I often do. Most days I work from 8:30 a.m. - noon, take an hour break, and then work for another hour or two. Around 3 o'clock, I pack it in and go do something I enjoy. Sometimes, it's the gym. Other days, it's joining a friend for coffee or poking around the bookstore. Today, I decided to make Pecorino Toscano with Roasted Sweet Peppers and Arugula Coulis as a little cheese course for my friends before we all went our separate ways for dinner. One friend was off to the DC United game while another was balancing her kids' dinner schedules around their various sporting activities. Me? I was balancing my hectic schedule of what to make for dinner vs. watching last night's episode of America's Next Top Model or the Real Housewives of Orange County on TiVo. Don't you wish you had my life? You know you do.

But enough about my shallow TV-watching peccadilloes. Let's talk about a different kind of cheese. The kind you eat.

Here's the mise en place for the Pecorino Toscano with Roasted Sweet Peppers and Arugula Coulis:



If you've been paying attention, you'll see two ingredients that were preapred for previous dishes. I'm not gonna go all Highlights magazine on you and make you circle which ones they are, but if you've been following along closely and hanging on my every word (which you'd better), you'll recognize the roasted sweet peppers (they're julienned in this photo) from the Blini canapé, as well as the Balsamic Glaze, which first appeared in the Gazpacho.

My neighbor, Holly, loves the balsamic glaze so much that I'm thinking about changing the locks to my front door so that she can't sneak in and steal it when I go to the gym tomorrow. Just kidding, Holly. Don't hit me. Seriously. That would not be cool, because you could totally kick my ass.

Now that you've seen the ingredients (and learned that I have a neighbor who could beat me down if she were so inclined), let's talk about the process of making this dish. The first thing I did was boil the arugula for about 5 minutes until the stems were tender:



Then, after straining out as much of the water as humanly possible, I put it in the blender to make a purée. After it was completely puréed, I slathered it on my tamis for about 5 minutes to let more of the liquid drain out of it:



After it drained a bit, I then pressed it through the tamis to strain it further, then returned it to a clean blender along with some olive oil to complete the coulis:



Next, I tossed the julienned roasted peppers with some balsamic vinegar, minced chives, olive oil, and a pinch or two of kosher salt:



You know, I've always been a girl who loves her olive oil, but with this cookbook, I'm gaining a whole new appreciation for vinegars as well. But I digress... After I let the peppers rest for awhile in their new vinegary home, it was time to start plating. I'd already made the baguette croutons the night before, which was so easy -- just thinly slice a baguette, line up the slices on a baking sheet, brush them with olive oil, sprinkle some kosher salt, and roast them in the oven for about 10 minutes or until they turn a light golden brown.

To start plating this cheese course, I first did a small circle of balsamic glaze on the plate. Inside the circle, I placed a spoonful of the arugula coulis. On top of that went the peppers. On top of the peppers went the crouton, and on top of the crouton went shaved slices of pecorino toscano cheese. And, on top of all that goodness went a little bundle of baby arugula that had been tossed with a smidge of olive oil. Here's what the final dish looked like:



And, I can't let another line of type go by without giving a shout-out to my eight-year-old neighbor, "C," who acted as my chef de garde manger today -- helping plate the final dish, and bringing the dishes to the table so that when my friends came in to sample it, everything looked gorgeous on the table. Here he is with his proud creation:



I gotta say, one of the highlights of doing this French Laundry at Home project has not only been pushing my own cooking boundaries, it's been about spending time with my friends over some good food. We get together quite a bit as it is (especially for Friday cocktails), but it's nice to have a reason to get together, even if it's only for 15 minutes on a Tuesday, to sample some food and have a laugh. And, it's been really cool watching my friends' children eat all these dishes, ask questions about the ingredients, and actually want to help with the preparation. Granted, these are kids who, like me, live in a community where ethnic food is a given, so it's not like this is the most exotic thing they've ever eaten. But, to hear that an 8-year old rolled his eyes back in his head after sipping the Cream of Walnut Soup, or to watch two 10-year olds get excited about decorating a plate with chive oil and balsamic glaze gives me hope that not everyone in America eats every meal from a drive-thru or cobbled together from cans and boxes and thrown into a microwave or a crockpot. It's also nice to know kids who will try at least one bite of almost anything, and who can sit at a table and hold a conversation about their day. Obviously, they have parents who "get it" and who value this kind of behavior/interaction. I feel lucky that most of my friends' children are this way -- and it gives me hope that America isn't going to turn out like Mike Judge depicts in Idiocracy. At least I hope not.

One last thing before I go, and it's sort of related to what I just wrote about in the previous paragraph. A friend of mine who writes a blog about the public relations profession recently wrote a column on "media snacking" and how it's becoming second nature to get information in quick snippets in electronic format. As he was drafting the piece, we talked about how people think we're strange because we still read the print versions of newspapers and magazines. We still read books in paper form. We enjoy a nice meal and spending time face-to-face with people. We like the tangible, the tactile, and the talk that often follows. And if it takes time, that's fine, too.

We spoke about how much has changed in this electronic age we're now in, and how even though some of the advances in technology and communication are important, we're not happy with the sacrifice in quality of communication that seems to be taking place, and not just among the young. We talked about how sad it is to hear adults measuring their self-worth in terms of how many MySpace friends requests they get. And, because my friend knows how much I like to talk about food, we likened the trend of media snacking to real-life snacking. We talked about how the more people spend time mindlessly snacking in real life, the more obese they get because when you snack on food, you gain weight because you're not focused on what you're doing and you're absentmindedly putting food in your mouth, but to what end? Most experts say that the real hunger a person is trying to satiate with snacking is often an emotional hunger -- hunger for connection, for family, for friendship, or for richer, deeper experiences in life.

But what are we trying to satiate through an over-reliance on media snacking? Is it the need to feel smarter, faster? To accumulate as much information as possible as quickly as possible? Like someone who is satisfying an emotional need by snacking on food, are we absentmindedly shoveling in information without really appreciating it, enjoying it, or even remembering it?

The one conclusion we came to is that snacking on food makes you obese. But snacking on information is starving us intellectually and interpersonally. And, that both are bad for you in the long run. Are they one and the same? Probably. But maybe not. You tell me.

So why am I going off on what might seem to be an unrelated tangent? It all goes back to the reason I started this French Laundry at Home project. Much like my distaste for a rampant increase in IMs and text-messaging taking the place of in-person and telephonic conversation, I got fed up on the food front hearing about diets and shortcuts and quick fixes and things that are semi-homemade. I got tired of people (myself included) snarking and bitching, but not really doing anything to move the needle, as they say. In doing The French Laundry At Home, I hope I can show people that, despite what the Food Network and others want you to believe, food is not the bad guy.

Just like I don't want to catch up with friends only via IM or email, I also don't want to buy into the concept that I need to be in a huge rush to get in and out of my kitchen as fast as possible, sacrificing the quality of what I make and how I make it in the process.

And, just like I enjoy spending time with the people in my life, I want others to see that spending time with food -- taking the time to touch, see, smell and taste -- can be rewarding in a similar manner. Much like we stumble day-to-day through our various interpersonal relationships in life, I'm living proof that cooking quality food can be done by someone with absolutely no culinary training, and who instead stumbles day-to-day through her kitchen with a simple desire to show that food doesn't have to be the bad guy and is something that should be honored in a thoughtful, tangible way because it nourishes our bodies much like interpersonal relationships nourish our soul.

In choosing the French Laundry Cookbook, I wanted to not only push myself, but I also hope that someone out there might give one of these recipes a try and see that maybe, just maybe, they might end up liking homemade gnocchi. Or sweetbreads. Or balsamic glaze, if they can wrestle it out of my neighbor's grip.

Okay, I'm stepping down from my soapbox now...

Up Next: Parmigiano-Reggiano Custards with Romaine Lettuce, Anchovy Dressing, and Parmesan Crisps.

Brands Used:
All-Clad cookware
Antica Italia olive oil and balsamic vinegar
All produce and dairy products from Whole Foods

Music to Cook By: Love and Rockets; Earth, Sun, Moon; and The Ramones, End of the Century.

Whipped Brie de Meaux en Feuilleté with Tellicherry Pepper and Baby Mâche

I'll admit from the get-go that I was a bit distracted when making this little cheese course, because I was on the phone with an old high school friend dissecting the recent yet-not-totally shocking demise of another high school friend's marriage. So, while this dish turned out brilliantly and tasted sooooo good, I don't have any photos of the mise en place, and there aren't as many photos of all the different steps as I had planned. Another side note before I get started: I know at the end of my last post, I said that the next thing I'd be making is a fruitwood-smoked salmon with gnocchi, but I lied. I need a bit more time to make some of the oils and other things that go in that dish, so I'm waiting until later in the week when I have a totally free evening.

Anyhoo, enough of the chit-chat. Let's talk about cheese. It's a tad coincidental that I chose to make this cheese-e-tizer on the same I day I went to the gym for the first time in, oh, three years (and of course by three years, I mean nine or ten years... or maybe 12... or, like, ever.). After 45 minutes on the treadmill listening to my iPod, I had a hankering for something dairy, so I headed over to Whole Foods on the way home to pick up the ingredients I needed. Yeah, it really sucks having a gym so close to a Whole Foods. And Starbucks. And Chik-Fil-A. And a sushi joint. I suck, I know... I KEEP DIGRESSING. I need to knock it off.

So, the whipped brie. Let's break it down (I'm so dope). The first thing I did was remove the rind from the triple-cream brie and put it in the KitchenAid mixer, and using the paddle attachment, whipped it on medium for 12 minutes. Here's what it looked like when it was done:



At the same time the brie was whipping away, I sliced a baguette on the diagonal to create croutons. I brushed each slice with extra virgin olive oil and sprinkled them lightly with kosher salt. Into a 300-degree oven they went for 12 minutes:



Now, it's assembly time. First on the plate is a drizzled design of balsamic glaze, which you may recall I made when I did the gazpacho. My drizzled design was in the shape of an aneurysm since I don't quite have the artistic touch yet to do artful drizzles. I'll need to work on that some night when I have some free time, which will be pretty much NEVER, so deal with it people.

After drizzling the balsamic glaze, I layered a quenelle of the whipped brie. A quenelle is when you take two spoons and through creative and tactical scoopage you create an oval-ish shape of whatever substance you're working with. Mine certainly would not make it into the Quenelle Hall of Fame, nor would they even get an honorable mention, but they also sort of resembled the shape they were supposed to be, so I didn't sweat it too much.



Next, you layer one of the croutons on top of the brie. Then, you add a few leaves of baby mâche, which the market didn't have, so I used arugula instead (which is in the same peppery leafy greens family). I then dropped a few drops of olive oil onto the arugula, then added a tiny pinch of sea salt and an even tinier pinch of fresh-ground tellicherry pepper. Then, you add another crouton on the side, and another quenelle of brie.



Then, you tell your dog to STOP BEGGING and WHINING for the eleventy-millionth time because he simply cannot stand to be in the same room as CHEESE and not get to EAT IT.



Then, you dig in and eat it just as it is presented here...




... and because you don't want to defeat the entire purpose of having gone to the gym, you give the rest of them to your neighbors as an appetizer before they sit down for dinner.

In closing, this was so easy and really, really good. I have to admit: I'm not a huge fan of brie. It always seems to have a chlorine aftertaste to it, but when it's whipped like this was, and you add the balsamic glaze and the arugula, I think I'm in love. Another little amuse-bouche I can take to Friday afternoon cocktails in the future.

Up next: Warm Fruitwood-Smoked Salmon with Potato Gnocchi and Balsamic Glaze (I mean it this time).

Wine Pairing:
Joseph Drouhin, Mersault (it's so clean and really lets the brie do its thing)

Brands Used:
Cheeses, bread and produce from Whole Foods
Calphalon baking sheet
Kuhn Rikon S&P grinders
KitchenAid stand mixer


Music to Cook By: White Nights Soundtrack. This was one of my favorite movies in high school (because I am a huge nerd), and I recently rediscovered this soundtrack and I love it so much I might marry it (again, because I am a huge nerd).

Warm Fruitwood-Smoked Salmon with Potato Gnocchi and Balsamic Glaze, Part II

Let me preface this by saying with the windchill making the temperature outside about 4 degrees, I was happy to have some gnocchi to nosh on tonight. Let's get started with Part Two of the Fruitwood-smoked Salmon dish, shall we? Yes, let's shall.

The first thing I had to do this afternoon (while waiting for my clients to return phone calls and emails) was finish the chive oil. That meant taking the chive puree out of the fridge and covering a glass bowl with cheese cloth so the oil can filter through it.



Then, I poured the chive oil puree onto the cheese cloth and let it sit for an hour while the oil seeped through to the bowl below.





Then, I put the oil into a squeeze bottle, which I did through yet another filter in my funnel (just to make sure it was as "clean" as possible).



With the chive oil done, I prepped my vegetables for the brunoise that goes into the sauce the gnocchi cooks in.



A brunoise [say it with me kids: "broon-wahz"] is a very fine chop/cut of carrots, turnips and leeks -- it's supposed to be little teeny-tiny 1/16" squares, but mine was somewhere in between a brunoise and a mirepoix (slightly larger). I have borderline OCD, but I think you need full-fledged OCD to do a perfect brunoise. But enough excuses. After doing the fine, precise OCD in-need-of-meds brunoise chopping, you blanch each of the vegetables separately and put them aside for use later. Most restaurants prepare tons of this and freeze it for future use. I just did a small amount because I was pressed for time today. Someday, when I have a free day, I'll make gallons of brunoise to store in my freezer. Or, I'll get a life. It's a toss-up.





I then prepped more chives for the dish -- this time a fine chop:



I also did the tomato diamonds just like Keller suggested, but for some reason mine turned out more like parallelograms:



(And, a note to all you 9th graders taking geometry who think you'll never need to use the word "parallelogram" ever ever ever as an adult. Guess what? You do. I did. So there.)

This was the last amount of prep I needed to do until about 15 minutes before dinner time.

I invited the neighbors (who are also close friends, so don't think I'm just knocking on doors asking people over -- I love these guys!) over for a taste-test and asked two of the kids to come over early to be my sous chefs. They did a great job, but their greatest accomplishment was the chive-oil decor on the plates. You'll see that soon.

Now, we get to the meat and potatoes of the meal. Well, the fish and potatoes. I cut the fruitwood-smoked salmon into six squares and submerged them in warm milk -- not quite a poach (about 115-120 degrees). They rested in there for 7-8 minutes while I cooked the gnocchi -- first a toss in warm canola oil, then added in homemade chicken stock I had in the freezer, a few drops of white wine vinegar and a few tablespoons of butter.



Then, you let the gnocchi and sauce simmer and reduce/thicken a bit. While the gnocchi were cooking, I mixed a small bunch of arugula with meyer lemon olive oil, minced scallion, and fresh-ground sea salt and pepper.

Then, when the gnocchi sauce has reduced and thickened (about 8-9 minutes), you add the brunoise, tomato diamonds and chives to the pan and let them heat up in the gnocchi sauce. Then, the salmon comes out of the milk and we're ready to assemble.

The kids (thanks, M and G!) did a great job decorating the plates with chive oil. As I mentioned in my previous post, I have no artistic talent whatsoever and I was apprehensive about decorating or drizzling plates with anything, let alone precious chive oil that took two freakin' days to make. It should tell you something that I trust two 10-year olds to do a better job than I could. I love outsourcing. It's what makes America great. Can't let those terrorists win, no sir. Not when it comes to, um, er, chive oil.

Alright, back to the assembling: first on the plate go 6 gnocchi with some of the sauce it's been cooking in; on top of that goes a piece of the milk-warmed smoked salmon; then, it's topped with the arugula mixture which is then drizzled or dotted with balsamic glaze (which I had left over from the gazpacho and the whipped brie). Here's the final product:



And, here are my proud sous chefs with their final creation:



Let's talk about how this tastes (wish you could be here!). The gnocchi were creamy and hearty, and not mushy at all. I've never made gnocchi before, and I have to say that I was damn impressed with my bad self. The sauce was delicious and the salmon was sweetened and less smoky having been warmed in the milk. It also made it a little more flaky, which was nice, texture-wise. The arugula/shallot combo added a nice bite to the dish (as did the balsamic glaze). All in all, I'd make this again. The portion size recommended in the French Laundry Cookbook is a starter, but you could just up the number of gnocchi and cut the salmon a bit bigger and it would make a nice lunch or light dinner.

Let me also take a moment here to say how much I'm enjoying Michael Ruhlman's writing in this cookbook. I'm a big fan of Ruhlman's work, but these instructions and accompanying text are so straightforward without being pedantic or elementary. There's no second-guessing (at least in this recipe) about the order in which you do things, or how exactly to do things if you don't have all the professional implements the French Laundry staff uses on a daily basis. If you haven't read any of Ruhlman's other books, I suggest you do. You don't have to be into food to enjoy them -- he's a great storyteller who from the first sentence draws you into the lives of the people he's writing about. He's done the same with the French Laundry Cookbook, and dangit, I'm glad I'm doing this project.

Up Next: Staff Lasagna (made by sous chef Eric Ziebold for the French Laundry staff prior to the start of service).

Recommended Wine for the Salmon-Gnocchi Dish: Raymond Reserve Chardonnay, 2004 (I'm usually not a chardonnay person, but this stuff is good. Not as good as the Mer Soleil which is like drinking butter, eating lobster, and having sex all at the same time, but the Raymond is good, too.)

Brands Used:
All produce from Safeway
Fruitwood-smoked salmon from Whole Foods
All-Clad cookware
O brand Meyer Lemon Olive Oil

Music to Cook By: Best of the Doobie Brothers. Just because.

French Laundry at Home: Lists and Menu Suggestions

Now that I've cooked every dish in The French Laundry Cookbook, I think it's appropriate to do a bit of a retrospective, don't you think? I've had some time now to think back on the good and the bad... the surprise successes and the dismal failures... the things I loved and continue to make today, and the things I'll never make again.

So let's get all listy.

* * * * *

I hear from a lot of people who say they have The French Laundry Cookbook or want to buy The French Laundry Cookbook, but wouldn't even know where to begin when they think about cooking from it. To them, I say, "Been there." Without going into a big arm-flailing rant about the current state of mainstream consumer food media, I will say that it has done a terrible disservice to the home cook with its proliferation of emphasizing all things quick, easy, and simple. Why? Because one thing that approach does is instill fear and self-doubt in home cooks when it comes to cooking anything above and beyond the standard fare. "Oh, I could never cook out of The French Laundry Cookbook... it's too hard."

Bullshit.

I don't and wouldn't cook from this book every day for every meal. And, most of the food I make for myself on a regular basis is quite basic, yet tasty. However, if there's any big life lesson from this blog, it's that if I, of all people... the queen of Kraft Mac-n-Cheese throughout her 20s and 30s... can cook from The French Laundry Cookbook, ANYONE can. All it takes is the willingness to try. Chances are, you'll end up feeling really proud of what you've done.

So, if you've never cooked from The French Laundry Cookbook, but you're ready to give it a go even though you might still feel a wee bit intimidated, here's what I recommend as Great First Steps:

Gazpacho: It's pretty easy to see why this was the first dish I did, even though I started the blog in January, which is not exactly peak tomato and pepper season here in the mid-Atlantic region. It seemed easy to do, although I remember looking at the balsamic glaze instructions and thinking, "Wow.... balsamic glaze. That might be kind of hard to do." Now, I say, "Pffft. How about a pig head glaze? Want me to do that? Oh yeah, BRING. IT."

Gruyère Cheese Gougères: Easy, and perfect any time of year, although I always associate them with a lovely snowfall, because that's when I first made them.

Citrus-Marinated Salmon with a Confit of Navel Oranges, Beluga Caviar and Pea Shoot Coulis: When you click on that link, try not to cringe that the final plating of this dish. I'm so sorry. It's just bad. But, this is not a difficult dish to do, and I think the flavor profile can't be beat. I really don't like salmon, but I freakin' LOVE this dish.

Black Sea Bass with Sweet Parsnips, Arrowleaf Spinach, and Saffron-Vanilla Sauce: This was one of the simplest dishes to do, and it's really, really good.

Eric's Staff Lasagna: Alright, fine... so, it's technically not something served to guests at The French Laundry, but it's in the book, so it counts. Why? You know how sometimes when you eat lasagna, it's good but so heavy that you feel full in maybe a not-so-good way? This lasagna is delicious, easy to prepare, fresh, and light. It fills you up, but you don't get that hesitant-to-burp-for-fear-you'll-puke feeling. I know Eric Ziebold is going to love that kind of review when he sees this in his Google Alert (Hi, Eric! Love CityZen!).

Sally Schmitt's Cranberry and Apple Kuchen with Hot Cream Sauce: Bring on the umlauts! Again, not something served at The French Laundry, but it's in the book, and it's lovely, straightforward, easy to do, and perfect for fall.

Lemon Sabayon-Pine Nut Tart with Honeyed Mascarpone Cream: Gorgeous. Easy. Delicious. A real crowd-pleaser.

* * * * *

As 2007 moved into 2008, I did a little reflection on some of my French Laundry favorites and other recommendations. When I look back on that list of my Top Ten Favorites, it's interesting now to see what stayed on the list, and what has been replaced by things I've made since then.

Top Ten Favorites

Roulade of Pekin Duck Breast with Creamed Sweet White Corn and Morel Mushroom Sauce: Phenomenal.

Black Sea Bass with Sweet Parsnips, Arrowleaf Spinach, and Saffron-Vanilla Sauce: Oh, wow.

Cream of Walnut Soup: It made me close my eyes, smile, and bounce around in my seat with glee.

"Head to Toe" -- Pig's Head: Three exhausting days. One life-changing experience.

Velouté of Bittersweet Chocolate: I think this might be the best dessert I've ever made.

Oysters and Pearls: This is the dish that got me to love oysters. No small feat.

Sweet Potato Agnolotti with Sage Cream, Brown Butter, and Prosciutto: Perfection.

Tasting of Potatoes with Black Truffle: I want this on my Thanksgiving table, and then, I want Thanksgiving to be every day. Or twice a day.

"Peas and Carrots" -- Maine Lobster Pancakes with Pea Shoot Salad and Ginger-Carrot Emulsion: This dish makes me want to hug myself.

Braised Breast of Veal with Yellow Corn Polenta Cakes, Glazed Vegetables, and Sweet Garlic: My new favorite comfort food.

* * * * *

So, did I just cook every dish in The French Laundry Cookbook and then stow the book away for safekeeping? Hellz no. Here are the dishes I've Added to the Permanent Repertoire because I think they're worth making regularly (by which I mean a few times a year):

Creamy Maine Lobster Broth

Gruyère Cheese Gougères

Sweet Potato Agnolotti with Sage Cream, Brown Butter, and Prosciutto

Whole Roasted Moulard Duck Foie Gras with Apples and Black Truffles

Black Sea Bass with Sweet Parsnips, Arrowleaf Spinach, and Saffron-Vanilla Sauce

"Pineapple Chop" -- Oven-Roasted Maui Pineapple with Fried Pastry Cream and Whipped Crème Fraîche

I also now use The French Laundry Cookbook's bordelaise sauce recipe and veal stock recipe as the standard in my kitchen.

* * * * *

Now, you know it hasn't been all sunshine, lollipops and unicorns up in here these past two years, and I have had some colossal failures, as well as things that just didn't turn out the way I'd hoped. Some of them I'll never make again. Others, I should probably try again at some point in my life so that I can master whatever skill is was I didn't have before. Or at least try to not suck as badly as the first go-round.

Here are the Things I Feel Bad About Screwing Up and someday will try again so that I can redeem myself in the eyes of those who can cook:

"Chips and Dip" -- Potato Chips with Truffle Dip

"Surf and Turf" -- Sautéed Monkfish Tail with Braised Oxtails, Salsify and Cèpes

"Head to Toe" -- Pig's Feet

"Candied Apple" -- Crème de Farine with Poached Apples and Ice Cream


And, because you know there are some, here are the Dishes I Will Never, Ever Make Again, Not Even if Michael Bloomberg Asked Me To:

Chesapeake Bay Soft-shell Crab "Sandwich": The quotes around "sandwich" aren't mine. It's in the book that way. I think the quotes are there because it wasn't appropriate to call this what it really is: Chesapeake Bay Soft-shell Big Fat Plate of Trauma.

Tripe: No. Just, no.

Lobster Consommé en Gelée: Unless I need a torture device to use on neighborhood children with already-burned hands, or an easy path to bankruptcy, this won't make an appearance in my kitchen again.

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Ever since I started this blog, people have asked, "if you had to put together a 4- or 5-course menu for a dinner party, using dishes from The French Laundry Cookbook, what would you recommend?"

Early on, I'm sure I proposed the most preposertous and unattainable combinations, because, HELLO, I hadn't made all of these dishes yet, so what the hell did I know?

So, now that I've cooked everything, here's what I think I'd put together as a menu as something I, personally, would enjoy and would be capable of pulling off. With these recommendations, I'm factoring in prep time, cooking and storage space, and being able to actually spend time with dinner guests instead of having to stay in the kitchen the whole time and not enjoy the food at the table with them.


Menu #1 (Spring)

Gruyère Cheese Gougères

Black Sea Bass with Sweet Parsnips, Arrowleaf Spinach, and Saffron-Vanilla Sauce

Roasted Sweetbreads with Applewood-smoked Bacon, Braised Belgian Endive and Black Truffle Sauce

Roulade of Pekin Duck Breast with Creamed Sweet White Corn and Morel Mushroom Sauce

Peanut Butter Truffles (and maybe the jellies if I'm in the mood)


Menu #2 (Summer)

"Peas and Carrots" -- Maine Lobster Pancakes with Pea Shoot Salad and Ginger-Carrot Emulsion

"Clam Chowder" -- Sautéed Cod with Cod Cakes and Parsley Oil

Double-rib Lamb Chops with Cassoulet of Summer Beans and Rosemary

Strawberry and Champagne Terrine


Menu #3 (Fall)

"Cornets" -- Salmon Tartare with Sweet Red Onion Crème Fraîche

Fricassée of Escargots with a Purée of Sweet Carrots, Roasted Shallots, and Herb Salad

Braised Breast of Veal with Yellow Corn Polenta Cakes, Glazed Vegetables, and Sweet Garlic

Sally Schmitt's Cranberry and Apple Kuchen with Hot Cream Sauce


Menu #4 (Winter)

Cream of Walnut Soup

Whole Roasted Moulard Duck Foie Gras with Apples and Black Truffles

Sweet Potato Agnolotti with Sage Cream, Brown Butter, and Prosciutto

Velouté of Bittersweet Chocolate


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Note: I know I said in my previous post that this post would contain what I think is a cool giveaway. While I'm happy to report that the giveaway is still quite cool, I'm sad to say the timing on it still isn't confirmed.... so stay tuned. I'm hoping all the details are ironed out by my next (and final) post next week. If not, then I'll just have to pimp it on Alinea at Home. So stay tuned.


Up Next: I'm Staying "At Home"

Music To Write Lists By: Rooney; Rooney. I listen to Rooney when I need music that's more than background music, but won't make me stop what I'm doing just to listen to it.

Read My Previous Post: "Cornets" -- Salmon Tartare with Sweet Red Onion Crème Fraîche

Salad of Globe Artichokes with Garden Herbs and Gazpacho

Well, well, well.... yesterday was fun, wasn't it? You guys were such good sports about it that I decided I'd better get a real, honest-to-craptastic food post up here lickety-split. Well, this dish really wasn't craptastic. It was sort of, um, boring. I blame myself and my utter non-sewingos..... I mean, non-caringness for artichokes. But let's not put the cart before the horse, as they say. Shall we begin? Let's shall.

It all started with me checking my trusty planning system (some nerdly spreadsheets and food-stained legal pads full of notes) and realizing that there are two dishes that use the Artichokes Barigoule, so I figured I'd better do them back-to-back and make all those dang artichokes at once. However, I also realized that my tasting crew would be cut in half due to various spring break and other travel-related absences. Thus, with my nationally recognized math prowess, I calculated that I could make one batch of Artichokes Barigoule and split them between the two dishes.... as long as I remembered to halve the ingredients of both dishes to accommodate this change. I took a Post-It note and wrote "HALF!!!" on it and plonked it on both pages of the book to remind me. My head hurts just remembering all this. Yipes.

I must confess that even though I think artichokes are lovely (and I don't hate them like I hate cilantro or soft-shell crabs) I have to say that I'm not really a big fan of the 'choke. I don't like them when they're roasted. I don't really enjoy artichoke hearts. I don't even like them with with spinach, cream and cheese in some sort of "dip"-type fashion. I do not plan to start an artichoke fan club. I will not chant "Artichokes '08!" at any political rallies. I guess I just haven't ever had a dish in which they were done really well, or that I thought to myself after eating them, "man, I gotta have me some more of them there artichokes!" So me and artichokes? Not really sittin' in a tree, if you will. Eating them, for me, tastes like what I can only imagine licking a metal sliding board must taste like.

But, I thought, if anything can get me to like artichokes, surely it will be a dish from The French Laundry Cookbook. So, when I saw fresh artichokes at the market, I knew it was time to stop procrastinating on this dish and just get it done. It's all about trying new things, right? The first step was making a batch of Artichokes Barigoule (translation: stewed artichokes) which I'd split between this dish and the Pan-Roasted Striped Bass with Artichoke Ravioli and Barigoule Vinaigrette (which I'll post about in a few days).

Here we go:

Pretty, huh?

Now, I know how to peel an artichoke, but I checked the book to make sure there wasn't a special way I needed to do it. I read and re-read the instructions and realized that if the artichokes were fresh, as these were, that the leaves woud tear off right where they needed to, and we'd be good. Thankfully, I was right.

So, I peeled the suckers right down to the softer, yellowy leaves, and then cut off the stems, peeled the base, and cut 2/3 off the top, so that all I was left with was the heart. I also scraped the hell out of the insides to get all that fuzzy shit out. That took longer than I thought it would because these guys were more fuzzy than I ever recall an artichoke being.

(Dudes, that's the mess from just ONE artichoke.
Multiply that by six and then tell me how pretty I am.)

As each of the artichokes were prepped, I squeezed each with a little fresh lemon juice. When all six were done, I submerged them in a pot of water, wine, vegetable stock, and olive oil. Then, in a separate pot, I heated some more olive oil, then progressively cooked some carrots , fennel, onions, shallots and garlic.

I removed the artichokes from the liquid they'd been sitting in and plopped them (stem side up) over the vegetables. I sprinkled them with a little kosher salt, covered the pot, and let them cook on medium heat for about 10-12 minutes. After that, I poured the liquid from pot #1 onto them, and added a bouquet garni (parsley, thyme and bay leaves all tied up in some leek leaves) and simmered them for 25 minutes.

After they'd cooked, I removed the bouquet garni and transfered the artichokes and their liquid to a separate pot so everything could cool to room temperature. When they had sufficiently cooled, I removed three of them to complete the salad:

While the artichokes were cooling, I prepped the rest of the salad ingredients. I'll spare you every single play-by-play because it was laborious, and you guys are smart, funny, and attractive enough to know how to do most of these things -- so below is a photo of the salad ingredients' mise en place, as it were:
Clockwise from the top: blanched haricots verts (the store was out of wax beans, so I subbed in more haricots verts) and carrot batons; glazed red pearl onions; glazed white pearl onions; balsamic glaze; artichokes barigoule, sliced; eggplant caviar; herb salad (parsley, chervil, chive tips, tarragon with a wee bit of olive oil); and, roasted and diced red and yellow bell peppers there in the center.

I assembled the salad the best way I could and sprinkled it with grey salt as a finishing touch. You'll notice in the title of this dish, there is mention of Gazpacho. In the recipe, it is listed as optional, so I decided not to make it. In the past year, I've developed an allergy to peppers (it sucks on soooooo many levels), and I knew I was tempting fate enough to eat the tiny bits of roasted pepper in this dish -- I didn't want to overdo it and end up in anaphylactic shock.

Here's the final plating:

It's pretty, isn't it? Honestly, it wasn't bad at all. The flavors were fresh and clean, and I didn't hate it. Still, it didn't win me over to the pro-artichoke side, like the "Oysters and Pearls" dish at Per Se turned me into an oyster lover. I actually loved this dish more for the eggplant caviar than anything else. I forgot how much I love that stuff -- and I was thrilled to have a little bit left over so I could spread it on my toast the next morning. But the artichokes? Blech. Still not loving them.

If you're an artichoke lovah, you'll probably like this dish, because they taste okay with this preparation. My tasters liked it, but again, it wasn't something that any of us were bouncing all over the dining room like Daffy Duck woo-hoo-woo-hoo-ing about.

Up Next: Pan-Roasted Striped Bass with Artichoke Ravioli and Barigoule Vinaigrette

Resources:
Produce from Whole Foods
Bogle chardonnay
Benissimo balsamic vinegar
Antica Italia olive oil

Music to Cook By: Holly Williams; The Ones We Never Knew. My friend, Claudia, turned me on to Holly (whose has quite the family lineage) a few months ago during a long, wine-fueled phone conversation in which we traded music back and forth online, and she sent me a few of Holly's tunes, after which I went to iTunes and downloaded some of her stuff. This album is raw and good and it's something I'd like to listen to with the lights low, a glass of scotch in hand, and no other distractions to take away from her lyrics and gorgeous, honest vocals. In fact, a few times I found myself stopping what I was doing in the kitchen and just listening to her sing. She's kind of a singer-songwriter/Nashville version of Lizz Wright.

Read my previous post: Roasted Guinea Fowl en Crèpinette de Byaldi with Pan Jus