In the Kitchen | soft-shell crab

I apologize for this post coming a wee bit late (the bean counting aspect of my life was getting busier the last few weeks), but I've finally been able to sit down and bang this one out. A few weeks back, Lisa and I continued with the next installment for our Table Convivale supper club, the ingredient being soft-shell blue crab. Inspired by Mark Bittman and Melissa Clark and each of their features in the New York Times, we thought this could be the next best ingredient to conquer in the kitchen, mainly because we were in the prime season for fresh soft-shell crab. The season typically begins in May and continues throughout the summer months, where the blue crab "abandons its shell and starts to form a new one, making its sweet, briny, delicious meat -- usually incredibly tough to get at -- immediately accessible." During this molting period, the whole thing is pretty much edible. When soft-shell crabs are available on menus outside of the summer months, they're most likely ones that have been preserved and frozen so they can be enjoyed out of season.

Finding recipes was pretty easy, as most of them dictate the batter be flour or cornmeal and fry accordingly (including this and this). The hard part came when we were trying to narrow it down to a couple, simple recipes (one to start and one or two for the main course). It proved to be so tough that we got a tad ambitious. We picked one starter and three others to be our "main course" -- a medley of soft-shell crab. How many did that call for? Well, there's three of us (Lisa, Marcus, and me) and four recipes total. And if we each were gonna try an entire crab from each recipe, that left us with a whopping grand total of twelve crabs. Yup, we're that crazy.

Now the next feat, as always, is to make sure the said ingredient that we'll be cooking that evening is normally readily available. I thought I had preemptively made sure of this because (1) I had seen them myself at Eataly when Lisa and I went there months earlier for our sea urchin conquest and (2) I even called Eataly that very day to made sure they had them in stock.

Now to my dismay, when I showed up that evening around 6 PM, there were only two measly crabs left at the fish department. Given our aggressive recipe list and the three mouths we had to feed, two soft-shell crabs just weren't going to cut it. Emergency mode commenced, and we starting Googling the next best place. I tried my luck with Whole Foods (a no-go), which left me with the Lobster Place over at Chelsea Market. I called, and we got so lucky -- they had plenty left in stock. When in doubt about seafood availability, chances are the Lobster Place will indeed have whatever it is you're looking for (most of the time, at least).

I rushed my butt over to Chelsea Market, getting to the shellfish section as fast I could.

There they were, in all of their glistening glory, with many to go around.

I asked for ten (since I already bought the remaining two from Eataly), and the fishmonger generously cleaned and prepped the crabs for me so they'd be fry-ready. So convenient!

{1} The crabs from Lobster Place were packaged in these flat containers over ice, while {2} the crabs from Eataly were cleaned and prepped in a plastic container.

A closet up of the soft-shell crabs from both places. Look at the beautiful gradient of green, brown, and blue!

Lisa checked to see how soft these crabs were, and indeed, they were incredibly soft, like cushions filled with plump crab meat.

For our first course, we decided to go with the recipe for soft-shell crab crostini with arugula butter from "A Good Appetite" -- i.e., the recipe from Melissa Clark's column in The New York Times this past June.

We cut an Italian loaf of classic, rustic bread from Eataly into thicker slices (for being able to withstand the weight of the butter and an entire soft-shell crab) and put it aside.

We combined a stick of room temperature butter with arugula, chives, garlic, salt, and pepper and then with some finely chopped.

We then heated about half of the arugula butter mixture in a large skillet over medium-high heat.

{1} Once the butter was bubbling, we added the soft-shell crabs in to cook, without moving, until crisp and golden, {2} for about two to three minutes per side.

Once the crabs were done, we transferred them to a papertowel-lined plate, sprinkling them with some salt. Look at those beauts!

Next, we preheated the broiler. Then we placed the sliced bread on a baking sheet, running under the broiler until they were browned and golden (only a couple minutes).

When the bread was thoroughly toasted, we spread the slices with the remaining arugula butter.

Then atop each buttered piece of toast, we placed a whole crab. Yup, and it tasted it as awesome as it looked. Buttery, crunchy, toasty, and juicy -- so simple, too! The browned butter glazed over their vellum-like shells gave it so much more flavor and depth to the entire crostini. That friendly kitchen adage -- that you can never have too much butter -- comes in handy here. This crostini recipe also makes for a super easy starter dish at any summer dinner party. We also did a separate test between the crabs from Eataly versus the ones from Lobster Place. We found that the ones from Eataly were slightly sweeter tasting, but the ones from the Lobster Place were plumper.

Per Lisa's request, the recipe we had to include amongst our main course crabs was the soft-shell crab meunière from French Revolution's blog.

This recipe called for a coating of milk and a light battering of flour, salt, and pepper for the crabs.

Battering of the crabs!

{1} After melting about two tablespoons of butter, we put the battered crabs right in over medium heat, sautéing {3} until golden brown, {2} turning the crabs only once, about three minutes per side.

While the crabs were sautéing, we had a small saucepan on the side, melting two tablespoons of butter over medium-low heat. We continued to cook the butter until it turned a golden brown. Then we added in a thick lemon slice right into it.

We arranged the crab on a plate, pouring the lemony butter right over it, garnishing with lemon and some parsley. The lemon butter gave the soft-shell crab a nice overlay of rich flavor. The light batter on the crab also added an additional crunch to the soft shells -- also a tad more aromatic than the crostini we had just made. Overall, it had the ideal batter-to-crab ratio, where the batter just highlighted the contours of the crab with some awesome browned bits and the crab was able to exhibit all of its natural flavors of plump, juicy, and tender meat.

Next up was one of Mark Bittman's variations that was featured in his most recent "study" of these seasonal crustaceans featured in the Sunday New York Times magazine. This "study" explored three methods (i.e., grilled, deep-fried, and sautéed), four coatings (i.e., simple flour/cornmeal, cornmeal batter, ground oyster crackers/saltines, and tempura), and five sauces (i.e., tomato, tartar, pesto, chili, and ponzu). We aimed to try the ground oyster crackers (because of its singularity as an ingredient) as well as the cornmeal batter (because it was the most quoted ingredient in our recipe search).

{1} We ground up one and a half cups of oyster crackers. Separately, we beat an egg with one cup of milk, {3} dredging the crab in flour followed by the egg mixture and flour (respectively), then finally the crackers.

{1} We coated our pan generously with some butter, placing the cracker-battered crabs {2} to sauté, about three to five minutes per side.

And voilà -- we instantly had some oyster cracker-battered crabs! These were probably the heaviest out of the three, and surprisingly so, too! We thought that the butter sauce from the soft-shell crab meunière recipe would create the heaviest soft-shell crab, but the crumbled oyster crackers were quite filling (just think about eating a few handfuls of oyster crackers on top of a whole soft-shell crab).

Unfortunately our stomachs were way too full (can't complain at all though) from the three recipes we had executed that we were unable to follow through with a study of the cornmeal encrusted soft-shell crabs from Mr. Bittman's Times piece. Our eyes are always too big for our stomachs, but then again, there's always a next time! :P

Findings: This installment of Table Convivale proved to be another successful feat in the kitchen, only this time with the seemingly tricky (but in reality, not so much), seasonal soft-shell crab. Lisa's approach from the getgo? "Let's just fry these babies!" And that's what we did -- sautéed them in butter, three different ways (arugula butter over crostini, lemon butter with flour batter, and butter with ground oyster crackers), all of which helped us thoroughly understand the science behind delicate, molting blue crabs and the art of cooking them.

They're so easy to make (throw them in the pan with a little butter and herbs, battered or not, and you're set) and very satisfying for the palate. So don't let those claws scare you -- their soft and tender shells now allow its eaters to freely get to its sweet and plump meat without any crackers or mallets handy. So when May rolls around next year and the summer months are upon us once again, I certainly see some soft-shell crabs in my culinary future. You should, too!

Price point: $7.80 for each soft-shell crab from Eataly, $4.50 for a loaf of classic rustic Italian bread; $6.95 for each soft-shell crab from the Lobster Place.

--July 14, 2012

Eataly

200 Fifth Avenue

New York, NY 10010

http://www.eatalyny.com

Lobster Place

75 9th Avenue

New York, NY 10011

http://www.lobsterplace.com

In the Kitchen | Bone Marrow

To kick off the third Table Conviviale dinner (the first for 2012 -- introduction about it here), Lisa and I decided on our featured ingredient for this dinner would be bone marrow. Before I get into the delicious details behind our dinner, I wanted to preface this post with some back history -- marrow is the soft, gelatinous tissue found in the cavities of bones that is rich in fat, protein, and other elements. Incidentally, the origin (or first known appearance) of bone marrow in "civilized" cuisine (as "the original primal brain food") began quite early in the human species. Marrow was probably "the first reliable source of large, fatty animal products" that our predecessors were able to procure, before hunting became a common practice for early man. Accordingly, "feasting on bones of fallen prey" seemed to be the Darwinian solution in a "man-eat-man" world (or should I say animal-eat-man world, haha) -- much more fitting for survival. As such, the high protein and fat content "improved the quality of man's diet" by allowing digestion to be less enervating, as say with greens, vegetables, and other foraged goods.

My first memory of tasting that mysterious surprise found at the center of these bones was with my parents. We were eating osso buco at a dinner party or something like that, and my mom had a small spoon stuck right into a center of the shank's bone. I found it peculiar that my parents would do that -- I didn't think bones were for eating. I gave my mom a puzzled, doubtful look, and she knew exactly what I was thinking. Explaining to me that it was bone marrow (the best part of osso buco, she emphasized), I was highly skeptical about whether or not I would find it appetizing. Boy, did that first taste change my perspective on trying new things, not only for bone marrow but venturing into the mysterious realm of offal and the rich (yet guilt-inducing) things it has to offer.

So after some foraging through the interwebs for recipes, I found two that was fitting for our scrupulous "study" of bone marrow. The first is a starter course (i.e., roasted bone marrows with parsley salad) that I found via The New York Times recipe archive -- adapted from London chef, Fergus Henderson, and his original recipe. This very recipe was also one that was a recurring find in my recipe search, proving it is a very "classic" and timeless way to prepare and serve marrow bones.

I was hoping that the meat department would be able to cut the bones for me in a specific manner. It is recommended for roasted bone marrow that you request for a femur bone to be sliced into pieces -- either horizontally (one long bone sliced in half) or diagonally (in three-inch cylindrical pieces).

{1} I didn't strike gold, but I did find frozen marrow bones at Whole Foods Market in Tribeca, packaged away at the bottom of the self-serving freezers by the meat department. It was almost as if they were sent into a shaming exile, almost nowhere to be found, until I had asked one of the butchers about whether or not Whole Foods had any that day. When I asked, it almost felt like I was shopping for unmentionables in a you-know-what shop. When the butcher asked me how much I needed, I recited both recipes -- the first needing 3-4 pounds and the other needing 6 whole bones (I wasn't even sure what that meant -- so vague!). Wide-eyed, the butcher simply said, "Whoaaa that's A LOT of bone marrow! Not sure if you need that much -- each package here is about one whole bone or so. I figure you'll probably only need a few or so packages." Mostly embarrassed and feeling awkward, I quickly got myself six packages (averaging 1.5 to 1.75 pounds each) at a surprising $3.99 per pound -- hoping it would be enough for our first course of roasted bone marrow and our main course (more details on this shortly). {2} I unpacked the bloody, frozen blocks from their packages a little over 24 hours before our dinner into large bowls (I could fit them into three) -- this is part of the preparation process as well as ensuring that the bones have sufficient time to defrost.

{3} Aussie expert Jennifer McLagan urges that marrow bones must be soaked in ice water for 12-24 hours beforehand in order to extract any blood from the bones. I did this by placing the bones in large bowls and filling the bowls to cover with ice water, followed by 2 tablespoons of coarse sea salt. I then refrigerated the bowls, changing the water 4-6 times, adding 2 tablespoons of salt after each change. {4} Twenty-four hours later, I drained one bowl's worth of bones from the water one last time, patting them dry with paper towels and placing them on a foiled baking sheet. Lisa and I then generously salted the marrow bones on the sheet, at the same time preheating the oven to 450 degrees Fahrenheit before placing the sheet in the oven. Once the oven is ready, you can place the marrow bones in the oven, cooking for approximately 15 minutes for bones that are three inches thick (you can calibrate the cooking time, depending on the thickness of the bones).

We also threw in 2 loaves of bread, horizontally sliced, in the oven to cook for a minute or so to thaw and toast (they had originally been frozen) for serving.

{1} While the oven was cooking, Lisa and I put together the parsley salad using 2 shallots, 2 teaspoons of lemon juice, two teaspoons of capers, and two cups of loosely chopped Italian parsley. {2} In a small bowl, we combined the parsley, shallots (thinly sliced), and capers. Whisking together 1.5 tablespoons of olive oil and lemon juice in a separate bowl, we drizzled the resulting dressing over the parsley mixture until the leaves are just coated.

After the initial 15 minutes in the oven, the marrow in the bones were not quite bubbling at the top, so Lisa and I decided to leave them in for another 5 minutes. This lead to another 5 minutes, when the bone marrow seemed to finally be ready to serve. Be sure to have a well-ventilated kitchen when you're roasting the bone marrow in the oven. The apartment's alarm went off a couple times because I failed to open a window for the smoke and warm air to waft out of the kitchen to avoid setting off the smoke detector.

Look at those gorgeous bones filled with hot and creamy marrow! The slightly scorched tops give them some more flavor.

With the bone marrow ready to be scooped out, the parsley salad all dressed, and the loaves of bread all toasted, we had our first taste of the roasted bone marrow spread topped with parsley salad over toasted baguette.

Lisa brought over a lovely 2007 Bordeaux La Réserve produced by Château Haut-Brisson in Libournais, France -- a blend of merlot, cabernet sauvignon, and cabernet franc. She found this wine at the famous Wine Library in North Jersey. A solid choice for bordeaux, as it especially makes for a nice pairing with steak and marrow! We decanted it for a little so the one could breathe and release its intense flavors.

After finishing up the roasted bone marrows, Lisa and I continued on with our second (and last) course for the night. It was a recipe for grilled steak with red wine sauce and bone marrow that I found via Serious Eats from its Cook the Book section. The recipe is actually an excerpt from Jennifer McLagan's cookbook, Fat: An Appreciation of a Misunderstood Ingredient, with Recipes. Before we started, we preheated the over broiler on high.

The recipe called for {1} dry red wine (we had a Merlot from Long Island on hand), concentrated veal stock (we used a beef/veal demi-glace), {2} four chopped shallots, one carrot thinly sliced, 3 sprigs of thyme, 1 fresh bay leaf, and 1.2 teaspoon crushed peppercorns. {3} We first diluted the demi-glace into a cup or so of veal stock -- the recipe calls for two concentrated, but since I only had demi-glace only enough for 1 cup of veal stock, we had to make do. {4} While we kept the diluted veal stock warm over heat, Lisa and I combined the vegetables, herbs, and wine in a Dutch oven, bringing it to a boil. Once it started boiling, we reduced the heat, boiling gently until liquid reduced to 2/3, which took about 15-20 minutes.

{1} After the wine-vegetable-herb mixture finally reduced, we added in the veal stock, continuing to boil until it was reduced by half. The recipe calls for "poaching" the bone marrow in half-inch slices. This was a problem for us, however, mainly because the marrow bones I had bought had been previously frozen and had not thawed complete enough for us to push out the marrow from the bones. To compensate for this, {2} Lisa and I decided to throw in the marrow bones right into the sauce so that the marrow can loosen up from the heat and cook at the same time. Plus, the sauce will be even tastier from all of the flavorful juices from the bone marrow! We let this boil on medium heat for about 20 minutes, {3} until the sauce reduced and the marrow was loose and thoroughly cooked. {4} We emptied out the marrow bones (while the steak was resting -- see below), one by one, with the back end of a spoon, {5} amalgamating to a stockpile of marrow ready to dress the seared rib steak!

We had two bone-in rib steaks sitting out an hour before we started cooking. One thing to note is that we deviated a bit from the recipe, by using 2-inch steaks instead of 3-inch (it was all FreshDirect had available at the time). {1} With the sauce mixture reducing on the stove, we seasoned the steaks generously with Kosher salt and freshly ground pepper and placed them on a foiled and lightly oiled baking sheet {2} At that point, the broiler was ready for us to sear the steaks with an oven rack placed as close to the top of the stove as possible, {3} 1 minute per side. Once the steaks were seared, we moved the rack farther away from the heat (to the lowest notch in the oven), continuing to cook the steaks, turning once, about 10-14 minutes. Since we had an inch less than what the recipe called for, we cooked on the lower end of the timing spectrum, about 8-10 minutes. {4} After 10 minutes, we took the steaks out of the oven, cutting them open to see if they had been cooked all the way through. Looked like they were on the slightly overcooked side (Lisa and I like our steaks medium rare), but it looked like a pretty pink medium. We let the steaks sit for another 5 minutes before plating and dressing them. Noted for next time: always better to underestimate the time -- that way you can gauge how much longer to leave it back in the oven.

{1} The remaining sauce in which the bone marrow was cooking in was kind of oily -- a tiny drawback from our alternative approach to poaching the marrow. So what to do in response to our original improvisation of "making do"? Improvise some more! Lisa came up with the brilliant idea to pour the sauce into a food processor so that it could be a more cohesive sauce -- both in texture and consistency. A few seconds in the food processor, and we had our red wine sauce thick and bursting with warm flavor. {2,3} With Lisa topping the sliced bone-in rib steaks with some chunks of bone marrow, I drizzled and dressed it up with the puréed red wine sauce for a hearty presentation!

Findings: And just like the sensation I had upon my initials bites of our featured courses during our last Table Conviviale dinner featuring foie gras -- the rich and the buttery accompanied by the tender and the hearty. It was certainly one of the densely luscious meals I've had in a while, rivaling the aforementioned foie gras dinner.

The marrow from the roasted femur bones was creamy with a subtle nuttiness that you don't experience in many foods -- the rich, buttery texture makes it ideal for spreading over bread. The parsley salad is well-balanced as the acidity from the lemon juice and the leafy greens counters and cuts through the fattiness of the marrow. The baguette was a good neutralizer, too, keeping the richness of the spread and salad out by intake. I also found that the bigger bones don't necessarily have the highest marrow content -- the medium-sized and smaller ones tend to be the keepers of the savory treasure. With that being said, Lisa had better luck picking the bones that had the most marrow than I did. Now I know better for next time! Additionally, prior to this, Lisa had never had marrow straight from the bone like this. I can safely and happily say that she is now a bone marrow enthusiast! All in all, much success here!

As for the seared steak with red wine sauce and bone marrow, we once again surprised my expectations by executing an incredible main course, especially one with a pretty vague recipe (e.g., unclear cooking times, lacking in directions as to how to remove marrow from bones prior to poaching, etc.). Saved by our clever wit (or I'd like to think so, haha) and my beloved food processor, the red wine sauce and bone marrow complemented the succulently tender ribs of steak. The intense flavors from the braised marrow in the sauce, as well as the other ingredients, blended well to dress the lone beef meat. The marrow itself was heavenly -- melting in your mouth as you slipped each morsel for each bite. Buttery, pleasantly oozing, creamy, and a tinge bit nutty, it was everything I had hoped for and more. Lisa and Marcus were happily content with the results, too.

Now, I have some reflections on the recipes. We lowballed the amount of bones needed for the recipe. We thought the two of us only needed two pounds of marrow (a package and a half), but the larger sized bones yielded less than we had anticipated. As it turns out, it's the smaller bones that carry more chunks (and they're larger in size!) at its center -- noted for the next time I'm cooking with bone marrow! As for the Serious Eats recipe, the portions resulting from two 2-inch bone-in rib steaks was more than enough for Lisa, Marcus, and me -- with half a steak leftover for the next day. So I recommend following the recipe's portions of 3-inch steaks if you have more than 4 people. If not, 2-inch cuts are plenty! Also, I would love to properly poach the bone marrow for my next attempt at this dish, which would mean to buy the bone marrow at least 36 hours in advance so there is enough time elapsed to thoroughly defrost the frozen bones.

Overall, Lisa and I proved to be a great team in the kitchen once again, where I feel confident enough to say that there shouldn't be anything we can't attempt to tackle recipe-wise now! We're going to step it up for our next Table Conviviale dinner. We are in talks about cooking with fresh sea urchin -- details to come!

Price point: 6 packages of bone marrow (approximately 1.5-1.75 pounds each) at $3.99 per pound from Whole Foods Market, two 2-inch bone-in rib steaks (approximately 3.75 pounds total) at $12.99 per pound via FreshDirect, $29.99 for a bottle of Château Haut-Brisson 2007 Bordeaux from Wine Library.

--January 20, 2012

The New York Times

"Roasted Bone Marrows" recipe from The New York Times: October 31, 2007

adapted from Chef Fergus Henderson

http://www.nytimes.com

Serious Eats

"Grilled Steak with Red Wine Sauce and Bone Marrow" recipe from Cook the Book section

adapted from Jennifer McLagan's cookbook, Fat: An Appreciation of a Misunderstood Ingredient, with Recipes (found here on Amazon)

http://www.seriouseats.com

Whole Foods Market

321 Greenwich Street

New York, NY 10013

http://www.wholefoodsmarket.com

FreshDirect

http://www.freshdirect.com

Wine Library

586 Morris Avenue

Springfield, New Jersey 07081

http://www.winelibrary.com

Tastings | California Olive Ranch

After reading this article in The New York Times about how olive oils in California are now rivaling and challenging ones produced in Europe, Lisa thought it would be fun for the two of us to have a tasting of olive oils (similarly to a wine tasting). One of the California olive oil producers cited in the article was California Olive Ranch, located north of Sacremento with 13,000 acres under cultivation, making it the largest producer of extra-virgin olive oil in the country.

So Lisa ordered three different kinds of olive oil directly from California Olive Ranch's online shop for our informal "tasting" of oils -- Arbequina extra virgin olive oil, Limited Reserve (first oil of harvest) extra virgin olive oil, and Arbosana extra virgin olive oil. Arbequina and Arbosana are different types of olive trees while the Limited Reserve is the first oil of harvest season , i.e., first cold press. This means that the fruit of the olive was crushed/pressed exactly once (thus, first press). Cold refers to the temperature range of the fruit at the time it is crushed -- basically that it is not heated over a certain temperature during processing, so that the extraction retains more nutrients and undergoes less degradation, ensuring high purity and concentration. First cold press is very similar the wine-making term, free-run juice (i.e., the juice that falls from the grape just from the weight of all the grapes on each other).

Before we began our tasting, Lisa found a handy guide from California Olive Ranch, suggesting we use the "four S's" for tasting olive oil (again, very similar to wine tasting): swirl, smell, slurp, and swallow. First each tasting, we poured the olive oil into a wine glass. A colorless glass is best because, surprisingly, color identification is not part of the tasting process. It is a perpetuated myth that color influences the quality of an olive oil. Using a colorless glass helps to avoid a "color bias." Since all I had were transparent ones, we just use those. Next, we cupped the bottom of the glass in one hand to "warm" the oil, covering the top with the other hand and swirl gently to release aromas.

Once thoroughly swirled, we brought the glasses to our nose and smelled, taking note of aromas. We decided it would be best to cover the glass partially to isolate the smells for a better olfactory experience. After thoroughly noting the aromas, we took a slurp, touching our tongues to the back of our teeth, inhaling. This allows for the oil to spread around in your mouth, helping to release the inherent flavors of the olive oil. Finally, after taking in the gustatory experience in our mouths, we swallowed the oil, slowly, taking note again of any flavors experienced.

We also made sure to note that different factors affect the aroma, taste, and consistency of the oil per the tasting guide. Just like different grapes make different wine, different kinds of olives make distinct types of olive oil. As olives are grown on trees, they are also impacted by terroir, i.e., its climate, soil, and environment. Harvest timing has a profound impact as well. Earlier harvests tend to have "grassier" flavors, while later harvests yield more "buttery" notes. The lead time between harvest and milling is a part of this as well -- the shorter the lead time, the more likely the oil will have a fresher flavor. Another parallel to wine is storage conditions -- any exposure to heat, light, or oxygen will negatively impact the taste of said olive oil.

{1} We began our tasting with the Limited Reserve EVOO (center). Upon swirling and smelling, we got a surprising solid whiff reminiscent of Play-Doh, followed by a strong scent of an olive pit. Our first slurp gave way to a thick consistency with a grassy finish as the oil glided like lightly softened butter over our palates followed by a burst of intensity. This wasn't much of a surprise as an earlier harvest tends to yield such results. Lisa swallowed too big of a gulp, resulting in a pungent biting sensation in her throat, so when tasting a first cold press olive oil like the Limited Reserve, slow and small sips are the way to go. Anyway, if you want a true, almost pure olive oil, any first cold press is the way to go. For me, it was a little bit too intense just by itself. It would have definitely been more to my liking if it was paired with something besides standalone in a wine glass.

{2} We followed the Limited Reserve with the Arbosana extra virgin olive oil. Typically, the Arbosana olive tree is small (like the Arbequina, which we tasted next) and tends to yield a more “robust” oil, which produces a “delicate” EVOO, leading to a more peppery, or pungent, taste. Noting that, we found this one was much milder in smell (just olives here) and in taste -- it was a lot softer on the palate and not as harsh as the Limited Reserve. The texture was also not as viscous either, and the taste reminded us of vegetables -- for me, it was specifically the ingredients for a caprese salad (probably because it is usually drizzled in olive oil).

{3} Our tasting ended with the Arbequina extra virgin olive oil. The Arbequina olive tree produces a dark brown fruit that is highly aromatic, small, and symmetrical. This variety of olive is very productive and enters early into production (beginning of November); however, the fruit does not ripen simultaneously, and its crop is costly due to its small fruiting size. As such, it is not very well suited to mechanical harvesting due to low weight of oil and branch-heaviness, making it a high performer in manual harvesting. Lastly, the Arbequina variety also has one of the highest concentrations of oil (in fact, these olives are mostly used for olive oil production) and has a short shelf-life. With that in mind, the Arbequina had a distinct aroma of tomatoes, making it more pleasurable on the nose. Its taste was less harsh as the first two, as it had a fresh and fruity taste with a tinge of bitterness on its finish. This was our favorite out of the three, mainly because it was much more palatable, standalone, than the others.

After understanding the general science behind olive oil tasting, Lisa and I overlooked a couple details -- it is recommended that the more robust oils should be tasted last (oops, we did it backwards), similar to wine tasting where it is recommended you start with whites, later moving onto reds. Also, to "cleanse your palate" between oil tastings, eating a slice of green apple is recommended.

To conclude our tasting with some munchies, we found some fun popcorn recipes via St. Helena Olive Oil Co.'s blog that calls for Arbequina extra virgin olive oil -- perfect for a party table dish. We decided to try the truffle salt popcorn recipe.

We started with some kettlecorn from Popcorn Indiana and California Olive Ranch's Arbequina extra virgin olive oil. We were a little concerned that kettlecorn may be too sweet for the recipe. Plain popcorn might work better, we argued -- or so we thought!


The surprise kick was the black truffle salt that I picked up in San Francisco last year from St. Helena Olive Oil Co. Although the recipe recommends white truffle salt (after all, it is more fragrant in aroma and taste), all I had was the black truffle salt so we made do!

We used two relatively narrow opened containers (I used my French fry serving cones from CB2), filling one entirely with popcorn. Next, we drizzled a reasonable amount of the Arbequina extra virgin olive oil over the popcorn followed by a dash or two of the black truffle salt (to your own taste and liking). Finally, we improvised by using a bartender cocktail-making technique: tossing the popcorn back and forth in the containers until the olive oil and salt were thoroughly mixed and combined.


And voilà! A quick and easy bar snack to serve at any party! Surprisingly, the sweetness from the kettle corn meshed very well with the savory olive oil and the salty, umamic (yes, I made that word up) from the truffle salt! So our improvisation with what we had wasn't too shabby! :P

Later, Lisa and I experimented a little, first using no olive oil -- just salt -- followed by using the Limited Reserve olive oil with the salt. Our conclusion? The olive oil is definitely a must -- it allows for the salt to adhere its flavor well to the fluffy kernels, so no skimping out on that. We also felt that the Limited Reserve olive oil worked incredibly well because it was more fragrant than the Arbequina, almost battling intensities on the palate with the truffle salt. A pleasant war of flavors, that's for sure!

Findings: Our California Olive Ranch olive oil tasting certainly taught me a lot of things I had no idea about olives oils and how it is tremendously similar to wine -- all the way from harvest (e.g., free-run vs. first cold press, terroir for both) through to tasting them (e.g., the four S's in tasting). I also now know better on what to look for when it comes to olive oils and what I tend to favor over others. The Arbequina is definitely something I want to keep constant in my kitchen, making me curious to try others. Also, our little snack of truffle salt popcorn proved to be a very easy success, with our tinkering and calibrating to find the best combination (Limited Reserve extra virgin olive oil, if it's available, paired with truffle salt, white preferably).

In the next year, I'd love to try out the other olive oil popcorn recipes from St. Helena Olive Oil Co. (that jalapeño-lime popcorn makes me super curious) as well as olive oils from other producers (St. Helena Olive Oil Co., Oliviers & Co., etc.) so I have a benchmark to compare quality. Hopefully I'll have more to report to you soon!

Price point: $13.99-17.97 for each 500-mL bottle of California Olive Ranch extra virgin olive oil, $3.99 for a bag of Popcorn Indiana kettlecorn, $24 for 3 ounces of St. Helena Olive Oil Co. black truffle salt.

--January 20, 2012

California Olive Ranch

2675 Lone Tree Road

Oroville, CA 95965

http://www.californiaoliveranch.com

St. Helena Olive Oil Co.

1351 Main Street

St. Helena, CA 94574

http://www.sholiveoil.com

Popcorn Indiana

http://www.popcornindiana.com

In the Kitchen | Foie Gras

After our success with the white truffles, Lisa and I decided to make our cooking together a regular thing. A supper club of sorts that I'm formally calling Table Conviviale (French for "The Convivial Table") on Four Tines. Our ventures in all things hedonistic together are for the bravest and brights of gastronomes, whereby we embrace our inner bon vivant (i.e., one who enjoys the good things in life, especially good food and drink) during each rendezvous by choosing a "secret ingredient" (like they do on Iron Chef). These "secret ingredients" are for the most part arbitrary (our first successful attempt with white truffles, as mentioned already), but can be slightly attributable to seasonal availabilities and also to how relatively challenging (we're aiming for gourmet culinary challenges, here) an ingredient and/or preparation-style may be.

So, during Lisa's recent perusal on Gilt Taste, she stumbled upon a selection of Hudson Valley foie gras. This particular offering on Gilt Taste features (as listed under below photograph) D'Artagnan and its best foie gras products. D'Artagnan has been crafting and purveying specialty foods (like Hudson Valley foie gras) for the country's finest restaurants, including many a restaurant here in New York City. Given how much foie gras holds a special place in our hearts (and our stomachs!), Lisa decided to go for it, naming our next "secret ingredient" for our Table Convivale: foie gras!

The loot of foie gras arrived via post promptly and well-packaged with blocks of ice packs to keep the foodstuffs cold. It included an assortment of two large slices of Grade A foie, 6 ounces of truffle-flecked foie mousse, one 8-ounce terrine of foie gras, plain mousse of foie gras, and bite-sized "French Kisses" made from prunes laced with Armagnac and piped with airy whipped foie gras. One thing was for sure -- lots of fatty goodness to be prepared and served as our dinner ahead. Arteries and cholesterol, watch out for our one ultimate night of foie gras!

Here are the French Kisses -- prunes laced with Armagnac (i.e., brandy) and stuffed with whipped foie gras in their center. Lisa and I took a "shot" of one each. The French Kisses were very rich, where the piped foie gras went very nicely with the well-absorbed Armagnac and the juicy fruitness of the prunes. I, myself, could only have one because it was so overpowering in flavor (particularly the Armagnac). I think Lisa had two or three, as she instantly fell in love.

Initially, when I was asking around about where to find fresh brioche to eat with the terrine of foie gras, my friend Linda informed that I could find a loaf of brioche at Whole Foods(at least the Columbus Circle location), with the pleasant tidbit that Whole Foods gets its brioche from Balthazar Bakery, the famed French patisserie in SoHo, making it that much more exciting to get brioche! I went to the Whole Foods at Columbus Circle a week before our dinner to make sure I could find the brioche loaf in the bakery section. Lo' and behold -- the brioche loaves were nicely packaged in the French typefaced pastry bags from Balthazar. Score!

So the day before our dinner, I went to the Whole Foods in Tribeca (as it is closer to work for me) during my lunch break in hopes of being able to successfully get a couple loaves of Balthazar brioche, only to be disappointed. Nowhere could I find the loose loaves of brioche in the bread racks in the bakery section. So I went to the man behind the bakery counter, to discover they did have brioche, but it appeared to have been made in-house. I wasn't sure whether to be relieved or disappointed. Would it be as amazing as the brioche that Linda raved about, the one sourced from Balthazar? I guess I didn't have a choice but to buy and find out.

So the first thing we did was take the truffle-flecked foie gras mousse out of its packaging and prepare it to be spread over warm, toasted brioche -- just so it would hold us over, hunger-wise, before the actual cooking commenced. Then I took the loaf of brioche, and using a sharp bread knife, cut out thick slices to be warmed and toasted in the oven (275 degrees Fahrenheit for about 10 minutes -- really up to your desired brownness).

Lisa bought a bottle of non-vintage sparkling wine from Burgundy, France from Bottle King in Jersey -- a brut (i.e., dry/unsweetened) crémant (i.e., sparkling wine from France that is not from the Champagne region) from the Bourgogne region produced by Cave L'Aurance. The associate at Bottle King recommended that this would go pleasantly with the fattiness and richness of the foie gras (along with our mini-toast to ourselves :D).

Lisa, about to take a bite of a foie gras mousse-laden slice of brioche (expect a photograph of Lisa chowing down in every post about our Table Conviviale dinners :P).

Aerial view of a brioche slice with some truffled foie gras mousse. The sparkling wine went incredibly well with the spreads of mousse, as if the mousse itself smoothed out the dryness and bite of the wine. It also tempered the richness, too. Highly recommend this NV brut crémant as a great all-around sparkling wine that isn't too dry on the palate. As for the brioche, I was very, very impressed by who dense it was, especially right out of the oven -- Whole Foods does not mess around with its made-in-house loaf of brioche! So in case Balthazar Bakery's brioche is not offered, fear not! Whole Foods' own brioche is just as great -- plus it's probably less expensive! :)

After we had a few slices of brioche (and caught up on the latest with each other!), we decided to get started on the cooking. We decided to start with wood-grilled foie gras with caramelized fruits and a Port reduction, a recipe we found on D'Artagnan's website. Since the recipe is for 1.5 pounds of foie gras, we just divided the recipe's ingredients by 4 to better accommodate our only two pieces of foie gras. We also did not have a wood grill, so we just used a sauté pan. We switched up the recipe a little bit, too, going a bit out of order.

{1} 2 pieces of fresh duck foie gras {2} unwrapped and {3} generously seasoned with salt and pepper. {4} We then seared the two pieces, approximately 4-5 minutes on each side, in olive oil. This, incidentally, caused the fire alarm in my apartment to go off, so make sure you have the exhaust on, and possibly a window open to air out the smoke and fumes coming from the cooking skillet. Once this was done, we set aside the two pieces of foie gras on a separate plate, leaving the remaining liquid to substitute for the "duck fat" that the recipe called for.

{1} We halved a one bunch of green grapes (remaining half will be used for main course recipe, to be addressed later) and another half bunch of red grapes, cut up one Gala apple and one Bosc pear into cubes, then {2} quartered about five figs. {3} Then, we sautéed the apple and pear wedges in the remaining juices in the skillet pan from the seared foie gras for about a few minutes. {4} Once the apples and pears began to brown, we added the grapes and figs to the mix, combining. We let the fruit cook, stirring often and gently, until everything caramelized, followed by sprinkling about two teaspoons of sugar during the last minute of cooking. {5} In a separate small pan, we reduced about 5/8 cup of port until syrupy.

Once everything finished cooking, we plated the foie gras pieces over the roasted fruits with some sprinkled salt and cracked pepper. Immediately after, we spooned the hot port sauce over the top. Look at that fatty interior of this singular piece of foie gras!

As a starchy side to balance out the richness of all this foie gras, we quartered some Yukon gold potatoes and put them in a Pyrex pan with some extra virgin olive oil, rosemary, herbs de provence, and garlic pepper. We cooked these for about 30-40 minutes, until they were golden and cooked all the way through at 375 degrees Fahrenheit.

Once we finished savoring the foie gras with caramelized fruits, we started the main course recipe -- roasted Gascogne (á la southwestern region of France) quail with grapes, foie gras, and Armagnac. Before we began prep, we preheated the oven's broiler with a rack about 8 inches from heat.

{1} We unwrapped 6-ounce mousse of the plain foie gras and {4} combined with {2} a half cup of golden raisins and {3} a teaspoon of Armagnac (brandy). Since our mousse was already refrigerated, we did not need to refrigerate until firm (normally, about 10 minutes) because it was already like so.

I wasn't sure if Whole Foods carried quail (though, I probably could've called them), so I decided to see if FreshDirect carried any in its stock of great quality grocery offerings. I was in luck -- they sold them by the pound in packs of four, at 3 ounces each at the reasonable price of $19.99 per pound.

{1} We took the quail out of the poultry packaging, patting them try into a large bowl. {2} Then Lisa took out the metal pins/clips placed inside the hollowed-center quail (making for easier stuffing of for whatever the recipe calls and preventing sticking together of interior flesh) and {3} carefully stuffed its middle with a spoonful of the mousse mixture. She then flattened the birds slightly upon stuffing, closing cavities with toothpicks and seasoning with salt and pepper. {4} With some extra virgin olive oil (substituted for duck fat) swirled on the surface of a Dutch oven, we seared each side of the quails {5} until browned, about 2 minutes per side. We then transferred the browned quails to an oven pan (a broiler pan works best), ready to be put in the oven broiler once purée (next step) is complete.

{1} I also ordered veal and beef demi-glace from FreshDirect, for which we followed instructions on the package to create approximately 1 cup of classic demi-glace. {2} Then we added 1 cup less 1 teaspoon of Armagnac to the demi-glace stock, cooking over high heat until the liquid is slightly reduced. {3} After the stock mixture was thoroughly simmered, we added 2/3 the amount of the previously halved grapes, cooking until soft, about three to five minutes. Once this is done, take pan off heat, pouring contents (stock-brandy-grape mixture) into a food processor. {4} We pulsed the food processor until mixture is a smooth purée, followed by returning mixture back to Dutch oven and adding remaining grapes to it as well. We cooked this over high heat until the sauce was reduced by half, about 3 minutes. While the sauce was reducing, we placed the oven pan with the stuffed quails into the oven broiler, about four minutes, until just pink at the bone.

When the quails were finished being in the broiler, we transferred them to our plates, removing the toothpicks and adding any accumulated quail juices to sauce, poured over quail. Finally, we added the puréed mixture over to the plate, along with some grapes and our own roasted potatoes. Look at the inside of the stuffed quail -- absorbed all of the flavors of the foie gras mousse! Decadent is a word I try to use sparingly (you're very welcome, Marcus :P), but I can't hold my tongue here -- this was undoubtedly one of the most decadent things I've ever made for myself (and Lisa)! I was very surprised by how well the quail turned out for us -- the meat was cooked to the ideal temperature So yay for our first time making it!

As a wine pairing for our quail, I decided to pick up a bottle of 2007 Girasole from Crush Wine Co. (i.e., the only distributor of this wine at the moment -- Gilt Taste also had the wine briefly on sale on its website earlier this month). It is a red blend wine, comprised ofsangiovese, cabernet sauvignon, and merlot grapes, produced by Bellus Wines -- a "new" line of high quality wines started by Jordan Salcito.

Lisa and I actually know Ms. Salcito from Eleven Madison Park, back when she was working as general manager (if I recall correctly) there. When Lisa and I returned to Eleven Madison Park late last year (right after the new, at the time, menu layout change to singular words), we were told she had left to pursue a personal venture. I was curious, as I had remembered she told us about her growing interest in wines and how she was planning to pursue a certificate from the Court of Master Sommeliers, so I did some Googling, stumbling upon her new venture of creating Bellus Wines, not only a high-quality wine brand, but also one that helps "to empower those who are curious about wine to learn more about their own palate preferences." In fact, Ms. Salcito's motivation to start Bellus Wines (side note: bellus means "beautiful" in Latin -- the root language for all of the world's classic wine growing regions). "Girasole," was a result of "countless conversations with restaurant guests and non-industry friends who expressed confusion and intimidation when ordering wine." She perceived "a void in the marketplace for a line of quality wines that represented a distinct sense of place and enabled people to learn about and afford quality wines as opposed to feeling intimidated by them" consequently inspiring her to create Bellus, where "the wines are rooted in terroir, craftsmanship, empowerment, and enjoyment."

As you can see, the wine labels created by Bellus (better view here) embraces the brand's philosophy -- easy and clear to understand as well as educational yet fun, especially with the "PALA-TABLE" portion of the label specifically created by Ms. Salcito herself. As the "inaugural" release for Bellus, the 2007 Girasole is a "super-Tuscan" red made from sangiovese, cabernet sauvignon, and merlot grapes, reflecting the brand's philosophy once again of "producing wines that embody a strong sense of place, are a versatile food pairing, and are delicious on their own." In fact, the name Girasole is derived from Italian to mean "sunflower" and to also pay homage to those flowers that spread across Tuscan hills in the summer season. The Girasole is made from grapes grown entirely in the rustic Montalcino region of Italy, where its "breezy hillsides, sunny climate, and famous gallestro soil mixed with clay" are ideal for these three kinds of grapes. Cabernet and merlot are to provide "notes of dark cherry fruit and a firm structure," while sangiovese "contributes a great acidity and flavors of tart cherry and roasted herbs. The "minerality" from the gallestro soil also gives the drinker a better sense of the wine's terroir.

Girasole certainly made for a great, velvety pairing with our foie gras-stuffed quail. The underlying notes of cherries and the sangiovese's flavor of herbs highlighted the quails flavors along with the grape-driven sauce. Even standalone, the wine is well-rounded, and just from its taste, I know it would go well with most dinner courses -- pasta, steak, etc. Not bad for only $22.99!

Findings: So Lisa and I embarked on the task of successfully making foie gras in a city kitchen as if we were chefs in a fancy-schmancy restaurant would make for their patrons. What we learned, you ask? Well, when you're attempting to cook, for the first time, an ingredient that isn't normally commonplace in a domestic kitchen, my advice is to just dive right in, head first. The recipe will only be challenging if you make it out to be. That being said, foie gras was a lot easier to cook than we initially had speculated. Whether it's searing both sides or stuffing it inside of a quail's hollowed interior, it just takes patience and meticulousness with the recipe to yield a pretty great result.

Now, after eaten all of that incredibly rich (though, it can barely be described in words) foie gras, I think Lisa and I've had our fix of it for the next several months. I can feel my arteries thanking me graciously and admonishing me at the same time. It was worth it, though, especially with the wine pairings we informally picked (yay for Bellus Wines)!

For our next Table Convivale dinner, we're already considering bone marrow and uni (sea urchin) as our next ingredients for the start of 2012! Very much looking forward to it!

Price point: $149.95 for a D'Artagnan foie gras assortment ( two large slices of Grade A foie, 6 ounces of truffle-flecked foie mousse, one 8-ounce terrine of foie gras, plain mousse of foie gras, and bite-sized "French Kisses" made from prunes laced with Armagnac and piped with airy whipped foie gras ) from the Hudson Valley via Gilt Taste; $7-20 for each bottle of assorted liquors and wines (brandy, port, and champagne) from Bottle King in New Jersey; D'Artagnan semi-boneless quail at $19.99 per pound via FreshDirect (sold in packs of four, ~3 ounces each); $22.99 for a bottle of Girasole Cabernet Sauvignon by Bellus Wines from Crush Wine Co.

--December 16, 2011

Gilt Taste

http://www.gilttaste.com

find foie gras bundle here!

D'Artagnan

http://www.dartagnan.com

Whole Foods Market
321 Greenwich Street

New York, NY 10013
http://www.wholefoodsmarket.com

FreshDirect

http://www.freshdirect.com

Bottle King

http://www.bottleking.com

Crush Wine & Spirits
153 East 57th Street
New York, NY 10022
http://www.crushwineco.com

Bellus Wines

http://www.belluswines.com