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Anatomy of a Dish: Reezy-Peezy, ca. 1730

Tuesday, August 9th, 2011

Here in the North, there are certain foods folks think of when Southern cooking comes to mind, and many of them are truly iconic American edibles – fried chicken, biscuits, grits, peach cobbler, gumbo, collard greens, fried green tomatoes, okra, and such – but the view onto the Southern table is perhaps a bit muddled from this far away. It’s true that all of those foods are big players in the world of Southern eating. It’s also true that two of the most important Southern foods are almost never mentioned when Southern eats are discussed in the North, and those are peas and rice. Certainly in the coastal regions of the Carolinas, Mississippi, Alabama, and Louisiana, together with parts of Arkansas, we couldn’t even begin to discuss how Southerners eat without starting on rice and peas.

I’ve always been a big fan of hoppin’ john, but never really got too close to serving it at Big Jones because I was holding out for something similar, the peas and rice dish, but something more unique and interesting, and spent a lot of time exploring pea options, which are sparse here in the north but significantly more abundant in the south. When Anson Mills came up with sea island red peas I was hooked. They have a fantastic, smoky aroma and taste that melds beautifully with pork, but since they have a flavor almost reminiscent of bacon themselves, I thought they’d be an excellent vehicle for a vegetarian dish.

Reezy-peezy is often attributed to Italian rice farmers, and there is in fact a time-honored Venetian dish called risi-pisi, and while it is a bit difficult to answer the chicken & egg question in this regard, there can be no question that the peas are of African origin and that ultimately it was Africans who built the Lowcountry’s epic rice-growing system. This dish belongs to the Gullah and Geechee.

I’ve laid bare my interest in slave kitchen cooking over the last year or so, from my reflections over a trip to Charleston, to how we should celebrate New Year’s, and how I select a menu for a very special once-a-year Slow Food dinner. In a timeless Gullah dish called reezy-peezy (peas and rice,) paired with Carolina gold rice, we could eat the exact same dish from the same heritage crops eaten for hundreds of years, and the simple act of cooking these fussy old crops can be profoundly grounding and connect us to our ancestors through the senses that best transcend time as they make up our most enduring memories – smell and taste.

This dish, reezy-peezy, makes me think of my favorite quote from the French Laundry Cookbook, one that TK’s old mentor, Roland Henin impressed upon him – “If you’re a really good cook, you can go back in time.” That statement covers a lot of territory, and I think TK took it differently than I did, but there is a mutual understanding – great cooking’s not about what’s easy, or shortcuts. This dish is actually very, very simple to prepare, but pulling the ingredients together is another matter entirely. The end result, after going through the steps of acquiring beautiful, impeccably fresh produce to accompany the peas and rice, stoking the wood fire and grilling the vegetables while basting them with olive oil or butter, is phenomenal. Finally, I have a rootsy slave kitchen dish that sells like hot cakes, and boy is it good.

A freshly lit fire in the wood grill. The right modern equipment can yield ancient, timeless flavors

We are able to go back in time on a plate – 18th-century heirloom peas and rice grown organically in the same soil as their ancestral crops, the kiss of a wood flame, and heirloom vegetable crops much like would have been enjoyed back in the day. Our connection to the past is through flavor, aroma, and cooking medium – a wood fire. What I really love about this dish is how beautifully simple it is, and how it relates to my own cherished dishes of childhood – when you’re poor, you eat simply and if you want to eat well, you eat close to the land. My mom used to make an old German farmhouse dish that could easily have been the same but for the difference in geography – that dish was called beans and knoepfles, and was northern beans cooked into a gravy and served with wheat flour dumplings – wheat flour being the rice of the north. Beans and rice, peas and rice, nutritional stalwarts of the poor. Since all food is cultural and since I grew up in a frugal farming family of modest means, this is some of the most delicious food in the world to me. Foie gras may be a luxury and it truly is delicious, but peas and rice is how we make our bones. It’s how we have survived to tell these stories today.

A couple of notes on ingredients – you’ll have a really hard time pulling this dish off without seeing our friends at Anson Mills for the sea island red peas, and also the rice we use for the dish – not the Carolina gold we’ve used for previous incarnations of this dish (although they are a great source for that as well,) but for laurel-aged Charleston gold rice. This is honestly a bit of a stretch, as this would have been too expensive to have been rationed to the slaves, but it’s such an interesting and delicious rice with a heady, perfumed aroma that both stands up to and mixes beautifully with the flavor of the wood grill on vegetables. Finally, the photo at the top of the page reflects the dish as we were serving it in May, so the vegetables listed in the recipe will be different, to reflect the market in early August.

Beautiful peppers in the field at Genesis Growers. These will appear on your plate.

Finally, even though the price tag of $18 for this dish seems modest to most of our regular customers and it is a steal considering the prices we pay and lengths we go to for this dish, I’ll repeat a common theme recently – that this is a crap ton of money for one meal to almost everyone alive on earth today. Isn’t it ironic that that to eat simply prepared, beautiful vegetables and grains from local soils isn’t dirt cheap? If you could take the time to grow everything as my grandparents did, it would be free but for the labor. Unfortunately for those of us without farmland and the means to grow, the crop subsidies favor California for vegetables and various other states for grains, but our public policy doesn’t bestow financial assistance on small scale, organic growers. So, we pay more to eat what was affordable and cheap to our great grandparents as the priorities of our larger culture have changed.

So, we have Reezy-Peezy. The ca. 1730 refers to a time frame in which you could also have acquired these ingredients when they were in cultivation in the Lowcountry a long, long time ago. The peas are cooked into a gravy most similar to what would have been enjoyed then, the rice is formed into a cake, or panisse, that can be cut and held under refrigeration, and cooked on the wood grill with the vegetables. We baste the vegetables on the grill with clarified butter, or olive oil on request for guests who wish to eat vegan. The chow-chow accompaniment can be made well in advance – in fact at least a week is needed for the pickle to take properly, the panisse can be made up to three days in advance, the same goes with the pea gravy. The vegetables should be bought at market and cooked very soon after, so plan the pickle, rice panisse, and pea gravy preparation around your next trip to the market. We use organic king trumpet mushrooms, but you should feel free to use any thick, meaty mushroom you like.

This recipe serves about twelve, so throw a party. If you invite good friends, they can help with the prep.

Laurel-aged Charleston Gold Rice Panisse

  • 1 Tablespoon corn oil
  • 1/2 cup minced shallot
  • 4 cups Laurel-aged Charleston gold rice
  • 6 cups water
  • 1-1/2 teaspoons salt
  • 1/8 teaspoon cayenne pepper

In a medium saucepan with tight-fitting lid, saute the shallots in the corn oil to sweat. Add remaining ingredients and cover. Bring to a boil and reduce heat to simmer. Cook until rice is tender and easily fluffed with a fork, about 20 minutes. While the rice is still hot, turn into a bowl and beat with a heavy wooden spoon until it forms a sticky ball. Turn out into a well-oiled cookie sheet and shape into a flat raft about 3/4 inch thick. Cover tightly with plastic wrap, cool to room temperature for an hour, then refrigerate at least six hours before cutting. Cut into 3″x3″ squares for the grill and reserve.

Sea Island Red Peas (Vegetarian version)

  • 1 Tablespoon corn oil
  • 2 cups yellow onion, finely chopped
  • 1/2 cup celery, finely chopped
  • 1/2 green bell pepper, finely chopped
  • 1 small jalapeno, seeded and chopped
  • 3 cloves garlic, chopped
  • 1 pound sea island red peas, dried
  • 4 or more cups mushroom stock. Once peas swell, keep them just covered
  • 2-3 bay leaves
  • 1-2 teaspoons fresh thyme leaves, to taste
  • 1 Tablespoon salt, or more to taste

In a 2 quart saucepan, heat corn oil just until smoking. Add onion, celery, bell pepper, garlic, and jalapeno. Saute 6-8 minutes, to sweat and just begin browning. Add peas, stock, and bay leaves and bring to a low boil. Reduce heat and simmer until peas are creamy and not starchy, 10-20 minutes depending on how late the peas are in the season. Add thyme and salt. Remove 1/3 of peas and puree in a blender until thoroughly creamed, then return to pan and combine thoroughly. Correct seasoning.

Chow-Chow

Brine:

  • 1/2 cup kosher salt
  • 2 quarts water

Vegetables:

  • 2 cups matchstick-cut green bell pepper, sweet wax peppers, or poblanos if you like it spicier
  • 2 cups matchstick-cut red bell pepper or pimientos
  •  2quarts shredded green cabbage
  • 1 cup matchstick-cut yellow onion

 

Pickling liquid:

  • 1 quart white vinegar
  • 1 cup water
  • 1 tablespoon kosher salt
  • 1 cup turbinado sugar
  • 1 tablespoon whole allspice, crushed
  • 1 tablespoon celery seed
  • 1 cinnamon stick
  • 1 tablespoon crushed coriander seed
  • 2 tablespoons shredded fresh ginger
  • 1 tablespoon crushed red pepper

Brine the vegetables: Stir the water and salt together until the salt has dissolved salt. Place the vegetables in a container and cover with brine. Cover, label, date and refrigerate for 4 hours or overnight.

Make the pickling liquid: Place all ingredients in a 1-gallon nonreactive stockpot and bring to a boil. Reduce the heat to a simmer and infuse for 15 minutes. Strain the liquid and return to pot, and return to a boil.

Pickle: In the meantime, drain the vegetables, discard the brine, and place the vegetables in a 1-gallon container with a tight-fitting lid. Carefully pour the boiling brine over the vegetables and cover tightly immediately. Let cool to room temperature (3 hours). Label, date, and refrigerate. The chow chow will be tasty after one day, best after a week, and will keep, tightly covered and refrigerated, up to 6 months. Makes about 3 quarts.

To Prepare for Service, per plate:

  • 1 king trumpet mushroom, split lengthwise
  • 1 baby zucchini, crookneck or patty pan squash, split
  • 1 small tropea or knob onion, with green top
  • 1 small pimiento or frying pepper such as shisito, melrose, or Jimmy Nardello’s
  • 1 plank broccoli, cauliflower, or romanesco, cut into 1/2″ steak
  • 1 rice panisse
  • clarified butter or olive oil, for basting
  • kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper, to taste
  • 3/4 cup sea island red peas, heated in a separate pan

Wash all vegetables thoroughly and gently pat dry. Lay in a clean tray, along with the rice panisse, while you prepare your grill. You can use gas, charcoal, or if possible the best is hickory, pecan, or fruit wood. Brush vegetables and panisse with butter or olive oil, sprinkle liberally with salt and pepper, and grill to your taste, turning every couple of minutes and basting. Heat the sea island peas in a separate small saucepan. Plate as you wish, using the pea gravy either as a canvas or as a drapery. Garnish with chow-chow, and green onions or fresh herbs as you like. Drizzle with olive oil or extra virgin corn oil and serve.

 

 

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Anatomy of a Dish: Sea Island Benne Cake

Thursday, July 21st, 2011

Truth be told, I was never a big fan of red velvet cake growing up. When I was a kid, at least one red velvet cake would show up at every church potluck, turkey shoot dessert table, or family reunion potluck. Maybe I was being too analytical for someone my age (and perhaps a bit misinformed) but in my young mind, something so red should taste like cherries, or maybe strawberries. I could never wrap my head around that taste. Vaguely chocolatey, definitely something like vanilla going on there. Cream cheese icing was always my favorite icing, but it couldn’t save red velvet cake for me. Something about it wasn’t right, it didn’t seem natural to me. Some years later, of course, I learned that red velvet cake was in fact usually brightly colored with food coloring, which I learned still later is most often made from coal tar. Yuck.

Why then did red velvet cake play such a dominant role on our dessert menu from opening until recently? Simply put, I knew I could make a great red velvet cake, and since people love red velvet cake, it would be popular. I’m cooking for you, the public, not myself.

Of course when I set out to put red velvet cake on the menu prior to opening, the key decision was made to color ours with beets, and up the cocoa in the recipe, and what we got was a cake I actually liked – it had a natural color, and the earthy minerality of beets dances beautifully with cocoa, vanilla, and orange.

With the proliferation of red velvet cupcakes, whoopie pies, ice cream (!) and whatnot, I decided to celebrate the third birthday of Big Jones by bringing in a new cake that would be more unique, but also approachable and loved by you our guests, and true to our growing emphasis on heirloom crops and historic foodways. So, it was clear the red velvet cake was on the way out, the question was what to bring up in its place?

Part of me really wants to just do cakes seasonally and part of me recognizes that some of our menu should be more stable year-round so you can have familiarity each time you visit, in addition to the adventure of new dishes, ingredients, and drinks. This one, I thought, should hopefully be the kind of workhorse the red velvet cake was and regularly available. We have plenty of other dessert items that change constantly. The coconut cream cake that is always a smash hit on our Thanksgiving and Christmas Eve menus is certainly alluring, but if we put that on the menu a favorite holiday treat loses its sparkle by being around all the time. I did think the recipe could be tinkered with and tailored to some other ingredients in our pantry.

The sea island benne and bennecake flour we buy from Anson Mills were very high on the list of ingredients I was looking to get on the dessert menu. As very unique, interesting, and historically important ingredients, they typify my kitchen philosophy. They also happen to be delicious. Now I was working from a foundation of nutty, rich sesame flavor, which pointed me straight into the direction of honey as an additional flavoring because I can’t get enough of those pasteli honey-sesame candies when I’m at a Mediterranean market. It’s a great pairing. I picked gallberry honey because it possesses properties of both richness and a sparkling bright piney taste from the highly acid pine forest soils the gallberry bush (an evergreen itself) grows in. It’s also an endangered food, not because the gallberry bush is endangered, but because interesting local and regional honeys have long been losing market share to mass-market factory honey and an increasing flood of imports. It comes from a fairly small region in Northeastern Florida, South Georgia, and parts of South Carolina, where the pine forests grow, there’s lots of water, and warm, humid weather. All great reasons to give gallberry honey the nod.

Icing was another question, and I was dying to pull out a superior – if labor intensive – technique that was much more common in the 19th century and increasingly rare these days – a butter roux icing, also known as white roux icing, flour paste icing, or German buttercream depending who you’re talking to. This is the traditionally correct icing for red velvet cake, and I did try it with the red velvet cake fairly early in the Big Jones days. Folks wouldn’t have it. I loved it, but chalked it up to everyone’s familiarity with the also-delicious-but-easier-to make  cream cheese icing that’s ubiquitous on red velvet cake these days. I acquiesced and proceeded with cream cheese icing. Such are the travails of cooking familiar foods. While they all change over time for the sake of convenience, novelty, or price, when you’re selling them you’re often stuck with the current form, not necessarily the best. Eventually I decided to completely deconstruct the red velvet cake to the un-iced hot cake with cream cheese semifreddo version you all know as our standard.

Enough said about that, with the new cake I was working with some very old, historically significant ingredients but in a preparation (benne and honey sponge cake) that is definitely novel in 2011 Chicago. Time to bring out the white roux icing. It’s been a hit this time because it’s not been fighting an expectations game as it did with the red velvet cake, and it is absolutely the most rich, silky, voluptuous cake icing there is. Done.

To finish the plate I felt we needed counterpoints to the rich bennecake spongecake and the even richer icing, plus some crunch wouldn’t hurt, and some conversation in the kitchen led to a lime inverted sugar glass for acidity and crunch, and a violet-Lillet sorbet for an aromatic floral lift and the counterpoint everyone loves with cake of something creamy and frozen. We’ve since moved on to strawberry-rose sorbet as violet season ended, and we’re thinking of apricot-orange blossom as the season moves along here. The recipe I’m providing is for apricot-orange blossom, since that’s where we are currently seasonally. The pictured plate is garnished with violas from Garden to Be, we are now working with snapdragons from Green City Market.

So, we have Sea Island Benne and Gallberry Honey Cake, Butter Roux Icing, Apricot-Orange Blossom Sorbet, Lime glass. This takes a few hours from baking to icing but actually isn’t a ton of work considering the reward.

Sea Island Benne Cake

For one ½ sheet pan, which makes 10 individual 2”x4” double layer cakes, iced.

  • 4 ounces butter, at room temperature
  • 8 ounces granulated white sugar
  • 4 ounces sourwood honey
  • 5 eggs, separated
  • 4 ounces vegetable oil
  • 8 ounces all-purpose flour
  • 4 ounces bennecake flour
  • 1 teaspoon baking soda
  • 1 teaspoon kosher salt
  • 1 cup toasted sea island benne
  • 1 cup buttermilk

Cream butter and sugar together until light and fluffy. Add honey and egg yolks, one at a time, during creaming. Sift the flours, baking soda, and salt together. Whip the egg whites to soft peaks. Sea island benne into the yolk mixture, followed by the oil, then alternate flour and buttermilk until all is incorporated. Fold in Egg whites in three stages. Place in a buttered and floured ½ sheet pan and bake at 325 until the toothpick comes clean, about 18 minutes. Cool thoroughly before cutting and icing.

Butter Roux Icing:

  • 1 pound plus two ounces European-style butter, unsalted
  • ¼ cup all purpose flour
  • 1-1/2 cups half and half
  • 10 ounces granulated white sugar, well chilled
  • 2 ounces sourwood honey, well chilled
  • ½ teaspoon salt
  • 1 Tablespoon pure vanilla extract

In a small saucepan, melt two ounces of butter and add the flour. Make a roux, cooking to a rich blond color. Add the half and half and bring to a boil, whisking constantly. Boil fifteen seconds, whisking, and remove from heat. Cool to room temperature and chill thoroughly before proceeding. In a mixer bowl with wire whip attachment, cream the remaining pound of butter with the sugar until light and fluffy. Add the chilled roux, honey, salt, and vanilla and continue whipping until light as whipped cream, all sugar is dissolved, and the mixture has a rich cream color. Ices ten 2”x4” double layer cakes.

Crystallized Lime Glass

  • 1 cup isomalt (invert sugar, may substitute other brands)
  • zest of two limes
  • 1/4 teaspoon citric acid
  • 1/8 teaspoon malic acid
  • a few grains kosher salt

Combine ingredients and sprinkle evenly over an 18″x10″ baking sheet lined with a lightly oiled silicone baking mat. Bake in a 325 degree oven until all the sugar has melted. Remove and cool to room temperature before breaking into pieces. Can also be spun into cool shapes while cooling.

Apricot-Orange Blossom Sorbet

  • 16 ounces peeled, pitted, fresh apricots (weight after pitting and peeling)
  • 8 ounces granulated sugar
  • 1 cup water
  • 1/2 teaspoon salt
  • juice of one lemon
  • 1-2 teaspoons orange blossom water, depending on the strength and your taste

Combine the apricots, sugar, water, and salt in a small saucepan and gently bring to a simmer. Simmer and stir until all sugar is dissolved. Remove from heat, add lemon juice and orange blossom water, puree and chill thoroughly before freezing in your ice cream freezer according to manufacturer’s instructions.

 

 

 

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Anatomy of a Dish: Frozen Citron Cheesecake

Wednesday, April 13th, 2011

This being the tail end of the winter season in Chicago and before any new fruit begins to ripen locally, I have always found April prime time for citrus desserts. This past citrus season, we had a great opportunity to pick up some organic Buddha’s Hand from Goodness Greenness, and I jumped at the chance. Also known as citron, it is a citrus fruit that is grown only for its supremely aromatic rind and pith; there is hardly any pulp at all. Its aroma is a heady mixture of lemon, lime, orange, and grapefruit, with a deep, resinous quality all of the other citrus peels lack. In all my reading of colonial and antebellum era cookbooks, citron is not an uncommon ingredient, and was clearly in the rotation of ingredients in most sophisticated kitchens of the era. Once again the cookbooks serve as a reminder that even under the limited transportation and communication resources of the day, Americans once ate a much more varied diet than our current mass-production food system, where citron is clearly a rarity. If only it weren’t so. It’s wonderful stuff.

We preserved our citron in syrup so it would last beyond the season, and it’s also available for the bar to use. The recipes below will call for citron zest. Fresh citron is available online through the Exotic Fruit Club. The only approximation of it would include lemon, orange, lime, and yuzu zest, though the recipe will certainly work with any citrus fruit you like. In case you are well-read in the culinary arts, I will go ahead and admit now that this is not a cheesecake, it’s actually a semifreddo flavored with cheese.

Basil is one of my favorite pairings with citrus, and given a bunch of basil in the summer you can freeze it in syrup to be used over winter for a burst of summer whenever you like. At Big Jones we use a Pacojet to whip our sorbets, so we actually freeze the syrup and then put it on the machine, which literally cuts it up into the smoothest, dreamiest consistency imaginable. You can freeze the syrup in your regular ice cream freezer according to the manufacturer’s instructions. A not about our sorbet recipe though – we use a little xanthan gum to help prevent recrystallization but in lieu of other chemical stabilizers, it only maintains a great consistency for a very few days, so only batch freeze what you know you’ll use. Basil sorbet syrup base may be frozen and rethawed before spinning in your ice cream maker.

Why blueberry preserves? Well, honestly, that’s what we still have around from last summer’s growing season! They also go swimmingly well with both citrus and basil. We may wind up using the last of our raspberry preserves on this dish before rhubarb starts coming in. You can use frozen berries, or start with this summers harvest and use this recipe next winter. Same goes with the basil.

Finally, a note on deconstructing the cheesecake. Lots of people, myself included, continue to make fun of the epidemic of deconstructed dishes on restaurant menus, sometimes to the point of absurdity. So why deconstruct the cheesecake? The answer is really simple – it separates the crust from the rest of the dish so it can be tailored to folks with gluten allergies. Additionally, it allows you to recombine the flavors in ways that interest you, rather than giving you a slab of everything with a sauce dumped on it. If you prefer to make a more traditional cheesecake shape, you can press the oat scone shortbread into your springform pan and brown it in the oven for twenty minutes under a pie weight. Cool completely before layering the filling over the crust and freezing.

So, we have a frozen citron cheesecake, blueberry preserves, candied coconut, basil sorbet, oat scone shortbread, sansyo pepper. We’ll start with the cheesecake and finish with a few pantry recipes.

Frozen citron cheesecake

  • 3 leaves 160 bloom gelatin
  • 2 cups heavy whipping cream
  • 2/3 cup sugar
  • 1/2 teaspoon salt
  • 1/8 teaspoon cayenne pepper
  • 1 Tablespoon grated citron zest, with a little pith
  • 3 eggs separated
  • 12 ounces Creole cream cheese (see pantry recipes)
  • juice of one lemon

Soak the gelatin leaves in cold water for thirty minutes before using. Place once cup cream, 1/3 cup sugar, the salt, cayenne, and citron into a non-reactive saucepan and bring to a boil, stirring often. At the boil, drain the water off the bloomed gelatin and add the gelatine leaves to the cream mixture and return to a boil. Whisk well, remove from heat, and cool a few minutes. Place egg yolks in a stainless bowl and liaison with the hot cream mixture, pouring the cream in a thin steady stream while whisking vigorously. Place mixture over simmering water in a double boiler and cook custard, stirring constantly, until thick enough to coat a spoon heavily. Stir in lemon juice and Creole cream cheese and continue cooking until the mixture registers 165 fahrenheit on a kitchen thermometer. Remove from heat, pres through a fine mesh sieve, and cool to tepid, about 100-110 degrees before folding in the egg whites and whipped cream. Once custard has cooled, whip egg whites until soft peak form, sprinkle the other 1/3 cup sugar over, and continue whipping until stiff but not dry. Gently fold into custard mixture. Whip the remaining one cup of heavy cream in a well chilled bowl with a well chilled whisk until stiff but not brittle. Carefully fold into the cheesecake. Pour into molds, wrap, and freeze for 24 hours before serving.

Blueberry preserves

  • 6 pints blueberries
  • 1/2cup water
  • 7 cups sugar
  • 2 Tablespoons citric acid
  • 1 teaspoon salt
  • 1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
  • 3 Tablespoons high methoxyl (HM) pectin

Wash blueberries under several rinses of cold water, remove stems, leaves, and any rotten or damaged blueberries. Place in a one gallon, non-reactive kettle with the water, 6 cups of the sugar, the citric acid, salt, and pepper. I like whole berries in my preserves, so I don’t blend or actively break them up. Let the heat do it for you. Gradually bring to a boil, starting with very low heat. Periodically scrape up the bottom of the kettle to make sure the preserves aren’t sticking. Eventually the blueberries will burst and start to give up their juice. Once the berries are swimming in juice, you can raise the heat to medium and bring on to a boil. Maintain a low boil for ten minutes. Combine the pectin with the remaining cup of sugar and mix well. Sprinkle over the boiling berries and stir well. Boil hard for one minute, stirring all the while. Place into clean, sanitized, air tight containers. We store preserves either frozen or under refrigeration since we don’t have a food processing license. You can can them according to instructions with your Ball or Mason jars.

Candied Coconut

  • Two fresh coconuts – check to be sure they have abundant water by shaking at your ear. Do not buy dry coconuts
  • water to bring coconut water volume up to one cup
  • 8 ounces granulated sugar
  • pinch salt
  • pinch cayenne

Crack coconuts, drain and maintain water. Strain and place in a measuring cup. Add enough cold water to bring up to one cup. Place in a one-quart saucepan with the sugar, salt, and cayenne, and slowly boil while peeling the coconuts. Using a flexible and sharp knife, carefully cut meats out of the coconut shell and slice thinly, 1/16″. Rinse to remove clinging bits of shell. Add sliced coconut to the boiling coconut syrup, cover, and maintain at a simmering boil for four hours, checking periodically and adding fresh water if needed. After four hours, drain the coconut well, maintain the syrup for other uses (sorbet, daiquiris, pina coladas) and spread the coconut out in a thin layer on a cookie sheet to dry somewhat. When still sticky but not wet, toss well in additional granulated sugar. Return to a clean cookie sheet and dry in a low oven until chewy and dry but not hard, which should take about 2-3 hours depending on the temperature in your oven. Store in an airtight container and use within a couple of weeks.

Basil Sorbet

  • 10 ounces sugar
  • 10 ounces water
  • pinch salt
  • 8 ounces peeled and chopped granny smith apple
  • leaves from 1/2 pound fresh basil
  • 2 grams xanthan gum
  • 30 grams glucose powder or dextrose

Place water, sugar, salt, and granny smith apples in a small saucepan and bring to a boil, stirring regularly. Reduce to a simmer and cook until apples are tender, about thirty minutes depending on the size of your chop. Remove from heat and cook thoroughly to room temperature. Place in a one-quart measure and add enough ice to bring up to one quart total volume. Place basil leaves in a blender with the apple pieces and blend until smooth and bright green. Gradually add the syrup in a steady stream until incorporated. Mix xanthan gum and glucose powder and sprinkle into feed hole on blender while running. Blend thirty seconds. Freeze immediately according to your ice cream maker’s instructions.

Oat scone shortbread

  • 3-1/2 cups colonial oat scone flour
  • 1/2 cup sugar
  • 1/2 teaspoon salt
  • 1 teaspoon cream of tartar
  • 1/2 teaspoon baking soda
  • 1/2 pound butter, chilled and cut into small bits
  • 1/4-1/2 cup creme fraiche, as needed

Whisk together the dry ingredients thoroughly. Incorporate the butter as for short paste, smashing up all the bits with your finders into little disks, working the mixture between your hands until butter is well incorporated but the mixture is still somewhat lumpy. Add creme fraiche bit by bit, gently working the mixture into a stiff paste. Use only enough creme fraiche to bring together into a stiff dough, not any more. Immediately roll out 1/2″ thick on a well floured board and cut into strips 1″ by 2″. Place on a well-oiled cookie sheet and bake at 350 until well browned, about twenty minutes. Cool to room temperature and store in an airtight container. Use within a few days.

Creole Cream Cheese

Yields 2 pounds

In a large stainless stockpot, heat over medium heat:

  • 3-1/2 quarts non-homogenized skim milk

Whisk occasionally during heating. Heat to 110 degrees. Remove from heat immediately. Whisk in:

  • 12 drops liquid rennet
  • 1/2 cup buttermilk

Mix thoroughly and cover with cheesecloth. Culture at 90 degrees for 24 hours. Line a colander with cheesecloth, place the colander over a container and carefully spoon the curds into the colander to drain, trying not to break them. Allow to drain for one hour, until the cheese is one solid mass. Tie up the cheesecloth and hang the cheese over a drip pan in the refrigerator for another three hours. Season by tossing with 3 teaspoons kosher salt. Pack into a sanitized airtight container and refrigerate. Use within ten days.

To assemble, dip molds in warm water just long enough to release cheesecake. Paint the plate with blueberry preserves, sprinkle crumbled shortbread about the plate and use as an edible base for the basil sorbet. garnish with coconut and a light dusting of sansyo pepper.

A few notes on sources – we use organic coconuts we procure through Goodness Greeness. You may find them at a natural foods grocery store. You can easily substitute young coconuts, which are easier to work with and more widely available. Non-homogenized milk is available from Kilgus Farmstead at the Green City Market and select grocery stores around town. Sansyo pepper can be found at Japanese specialty markets or online.

Frozen Citron Cheesecake should be available another few weeks until rhubarb takes over.

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Anatomy of a Dish: Cassoulet

Wednesday, January 19th, 2011

Ever since I can remember, bean dishes have epitomized winter cooking in my heart. My mom used to make a simple dish of beans and knoepfles (an eggy doughy dumpling rooted in German farmhouse cooking) that we would eat mostly when it was cold outside and when money was tight. She used navy beans, which are a favored cooking bean in the South as well as in the cooking on my dad’s side of the family, representing generations of farmhouse cooking in the U.S. (five generations) and the southwestern mountains of Germany before that. Navy beans belong to the haricot family of beans that has been a workhorse of peasant cooking in both the US and Europe for centuries.

Since I left home and have been on my own, it’s often been a weekly ritual of mine to make some combination of pork, poultry, and sometimes game with beans in a hearty concoction to eat off of for a week or so. It’s always been my version of “fast food” in the winter months – quick and easy to reheat and eat either alone or with some fresh bread. Naturally then, I’ve always looked for a way to express this love of winter bean cookery in my restaurant kitchen. I do love red beans and rice but believe it or not, it’s often been a hard sell, even at Big Jones.

Cassoulet is the most romanticized version of winter bean cookery, and it was never that far of a stretch to make it my own and call it Southern – it is at its rootstock a humble kitchen sink dish of convenience, and in France, much of the canned cassoulet sold in grocery stores bears a striking resemblance to American pork and beans preparations, where you find a few bits of pork packed in a lot of beans whether the seasonings are all the same. More importantly, chefs in New Orleans particularly have long made their own versions of the dish, and navy (or often pinto) beans cooked with smoked pork or game have long been a staple of Appalachian cooking.

In the regional cooking of the south of France, you will always find meats, sausages, and white beans baked in a casserole, the regional distinctions being the meats that are chosen for the braise. The last several months as I was planning a southern cassoulet for the winter menu, I wrestled with the very question of which meats (and even beans, actually) I would use to keep it true to its ancient origins but also make it distinctively Southern.

Remembering how dad would often say that some problems are best left to solve themselves (the problem being how to know which ones will solve themselves) I decided to let my pantry tell me what should go in our cassoulet. My pantry wound up telling me that while those who order my head cheese really love it, most of my customers wind up ordering other charcuterie options and a different use for my hogs’ heads would not be a bad idea. The jowls could make the bacon for lardons, a quintessential cassoulet ingredient. My pantry told me the same about the pig trotters and the trotter torchons we would fashion of them. Ultimately this was a no-brainer. The head and trotters are the best sources of gelatin on a market hog, so using them to start the base would ensure a rich, thick, sticky base upon which to build the rest. Traditionalists say you should line the casserole with fatback. We have always had a surplus of skin since we started buying whole pigs, and fried pork rinds haven’t struck me as the best way to offer them for sale. Another no-brainer: the skins have a fair amount of gelatin as well, and great insulation properties. So, we would use the skin to line the casserole. It would add still more rich pork flavor and thicken the base even more with its gelatin contribution.

An enthusiastic sausage-making party surrounding a couple of venison legs in the fall left us a surplus of smoked venison sausage, and for a fresh sausage I thought chaurice would be the best choice since it is distinctively New Orleans and we have always had it around for the better part of two years. Lastly, rabbit confit and duck confit are things we often have around, or are at least well in the practice of preparing, so they seemed like the natural confitures to add to the mix. Venison, rabbit, duck, and pork – now that’s southern cooking!

The final touch was my decision to serve biscuits with the cassoulet. Not just any biscuits though – real, genuine freshly rendered white leaf lard biscuits. Freshly rendered lard (ours is made in-house from Gunthorp pigs) is not only very nutritious but yields a superior texture and unrivaled rich flavor. I dare you to try it. Prepare yourself though – you will have to face your realization that our modern industrial cooking is failing us because it fails to deliver the ultimate satisfaction that comes from such simple things as cooking whole, healthy animals with love and respect. By serving the biscuit made from the leaf fat and fatback, you can literally eat your share of one of these majestic creatures in a single meal. We’ve also been really excited to be able to procure certified organic kumquats through Goodness Greeness this year, and with our strong preference for organic certification when it’s not a local farm we can visit, this has opened the door to one of my favorite citrus fruits. Kumquats make great marmalade, and with their brilliant citrusy shine tempered by the bitter rind, kumquat marmalade makes a fantastic foil for the rich casserole and biscuits.

Made with proper technique, biscuits can puff up a little bit like puff pastry

So, without further delay, here are the recipes. Unfortunately, because the base is prepared from the whole head and trotters, I am listing the recipes as we prepare them, which may be too big of a project for your home kitchen. If you have or can borrow four 2-gallon casseroles or cocottes (we use cajun cast iron 8-quart ovens,) this is very doable. Otherwise, you could quarter the recipes. Either way, you now have a friendly neighborhood butcher shop in town where you can buy your needs for these recipes – The Butcher and Larder is now open in Noble Square! Rob can sell you heads, trotters, or parts thereof!

Cassoulet

For the stock:

  • Four fresh pig trotters
  • One fresh pig’s head, brain and jowls removed, jowls cured for bacon (recipe follows)
  • Three gallons cold water
  • 6 large Spanish onions, peeled and coarsely chopped
  • 12 cloves of garlic, crushed
  • 12 bay leaves
  • 10-12 thyme sprigs for the stock
  • 12 sage leaves
  • Leaves from one head celery (save stalks for the casserole)
  • 8 pounds smoked venison sausage (recipe follows)
  • 8 pounds chaurice (recipe follows)
  • 6 quarts dried navy beans, carefully washed and sorted, removing rocks and grit

Soak the head and trotters in cold water overnight. Drain and rinse well in cold running water, and place in a 5-gallon stock pot. Cover with 3 gallons cold water. Bring to a boil over medium-high heat, regularly skimming the foam and scum that rise. Once boiling, reduce heat to a simmer and cook six hours, skimming all the while. Add onion, garlic, bay, thyme, sage, and celery leaves, and cook one hour more. Finally, making sure the heat is at a simmer, add first the venison sausage and poach gently until cooked through to 155 degrees, remove and cool at once. Repeat with the chaurice, gently poaching to cook through and cooling quickly. Refrigerate the sausages for later use. Place the washed and sorted navy beans in a heat-proof 5-gallon container. With the aid of an assistant and colander, carefully strain the hot stock onto the beans to facilitate a short soaking. You will NOT discard the soaking liquid. The long cooking will break down the gas-creating carbohydrates, and there is no need to wash away a portion of the beans’ flavor and vitamins. Set aside the head and trotters to cool while the beans soak. Once cool enough to handle, pull and chop all of the meat, fat, and collagen from the head and trotters, taking care to get the meat behind the ears, and also the tongue, which you should peel and slice. Soak the beans in the hot liquid (which will cool during soaking) for two hours, while you prepare your ingredients and tools for the braising.

For the braise:

  • A few ounces of freshly rendered lard (instructions follow)
  • Smoked Jowl bacon from one pig’s head (recipe follows)
  • 6 large Spanish onions, peeled and finely diced
  • 1 head celery minus leaves (see above,) finely diced
  • 6 red bell peppers, finely diced
  • 12 cloves garlic, crushed
  • 1 bottle light, fruity white wine, such as colombelle or ugni blanc
  • 1 cup worcestershire sauce (recipe here)
  • The poached venison sausage
  • The poached chaurice
  • confit of four large rabbits (recipe follows)
  • All meat and trimming from head and trotters
  • 2 Tablespoons cracked black pepper
  • 1 teaspoon cayenne pepper
  • Additional pork, chicken, duck, or rabbit stock, as necessary
  • Skin of one 200 pound hog
  • Salt to taste, about one cup if using kosher salt

In a large, broad, heavy-bottomed pan (we use a 5-gallon rondo, you can use the same, a cocotte, large saucepan, etc.) heat a thin layer of lard with the lardons cut from two smoked jowls. Render and brown the jowls well, then remove from the pan along with the rendered fat except for a thin layer to saute the onions in. Carefully heat the oil to smoking. Add the onions on first site of smoke, you don’t want to burn the fat! Add the diced onions and stir vigorously, being careful of splatter. Stirring constantly, lightly caramelize the onions to a light tan color, then add the rest of the vegetables and continue to saute to sweat and render the vegetables. Reduce carefully, stirring often and scraping the bottom of the pan until most of the water introduced by the vegetables has evaporated and the vegetables begin to caramelize. Deglaze with the wine and worcestershire and bring back to a simmer, scraping any bits off the bottom and sides of the pan into the liquid. Remove from heat and cool while browning the sausages.

In a large heavy-bottomed pan, brown the sausages in batches in a small amount of fat over fairly high (but not smoking) heat. Cool for a few minutes until you can handle them comfortably. Slice into coins 1/2″ thick or so, whatever thickness you like. Use a little of the white wine/worcestershire liquid from the vegetable pan to deglaze the sausage pan and return the liquid to the vegetables. Add the soaked white beans and their liquid to the vegetable pan, and stir well, heating gradually to a low simmer. Add the chopped head and trotter trimmings, sausages, lardons and their rendered fat, rabbit confit, and remaining seasonings. Return to a low simmer, about 145 degrees. Allow to cool slightly while you prepare the braising pans.

Cast iron or heavy ceramic with fitting lid(s) is all but required here. We use 2-gallon Cajun Cast Iron dutch ovens, which you can use, or any enamel or cast iron pots will work. It takes us four 2-gallon dutch ovens to complete this recipe, so plan on 8 gallons capacity total, or cut down the recipe. Line them carefully with the pigskin, leaving sufficient overlap at the top to wrap over the top of the casserole. Add maybe half the salt (you can add the rest and adjust salt after cooking) to the beans and mix well. Portion the beans between pans, being careful to also distribute sausages, confit, and lardons evenly. Add sufficient stock, if needed, to cover the beans and sausages with a thin layer to spare. Fold excess skin over top to close. Place lids on pans, and put into a pre-heated 275 degree oven. Braise for 6 hours. Remove, open the skin on top, stir well, and taste. Check beans for consistency and return to oven if you prefer. Add remaining salt and correct seasoning to your taste.  At this point, you can eat as is or refrigerate, pot, or can it for later use. We chill it in an ice bath and refrigerate for the final presentation.

Six gallons of sausage and beans before adding the confit and going to the pot

A 2-gallon Cajun Cast Iron dutch oven lined with pigskin

The beans, sausages, meats, and stock app wrapped up and ready for the oven

For presentation:

  • Individual serving casseroles (14-20 ounces are good depending on appetite, or you can use a larger pan to serve more people)
  • Buttered fresh bread crumbs (recipe follows)
  • Duck and/or hog fat for deep frying
  • Duck leg & thigh confit
  • Biscuits
  • Kumquat marmalade

Fill casserole to within 1″ of the top with cassoulet. The consistency should be very thick when cold due to gelatin and fat content, so it’s helpful to heat it to 165 degrees on the stovetop to check consistency before the oven. This can also shorten oven time. Once heated, it should have the consistency of a slightly thick bean soup, but not too much so. It will thicken further in the oven. Once you are happy with the consistency, pour into the casserole and cover with a thin but not stingy layer of well-buttered bread crumbs. Place in a 350 degree oven until bubbling and the bread crumbs are well toasted. Depending on the size and depth of your casserole and moisture content of your cassoulet, this can take 20-45 minutes. In the meantime you can prepare the duck leg confit.

In a large cast iron saucepan or dutch oven on the stove top, heat 3″ of fat to 350 degrees. Drop confit duck legs or thighs (one per person) into the hot fat and fry until the skin is crispy, about 6 minutes. Sprinkle with salt and pepper. Serve on top of the cassoulet, and flank with hot biscuits and kumquat marmalade.

Fresh out of the oven, it looks like this

Pantry Recipes

Jowl Bacon

  • Two pig cheeks, skinned
  • 1/4 cup kosher salt
  • 1/2 cup brown sugar
  • 1/2 teaspoon curing salt
  • a few whole cloves
  • a few allspice berries
  • a few bay leaves

Mix the salts and sugar well. Rub the jowls well on all sides with salt mixture. Place on a rack over a pan to catch the drippings. Cover jowls with 1/2″ of cure and the spices, then cover with clean weights. Place in refrigerator to cure for five days. Wash off cure and pat dry. Return to refigerator, uncovered, for two more days. Smoke over pecan wood at 145 degrees for four hours. Pat dry, wrap in plastic wrap and refrigerate.

Worcestershire Sauce

In a large stockpot, saute:

  • ½ cup vegetable oil, heated to smoking
  • 1-1/2 pounds fresh horseradish, peeled and coarsely chopped
  • 6 pounds onions, peeled and coarsely chopped
  • 1 Tablespoon crushed red pepper
  • 4 ounces garlic, peeled and coarsely chopped

Saute to sweat thoroughly and brown slightly. Add:

  • 1 tablespoon fresh ground black pepper
  • 1 Gallon cold water
  • 2 Gallons malt vinegar
  • 2 quarts sorghum molasses
  • 4 ounces anchovies in oil, minced
  • 2 tablespoons whole cloves
  • 5 tablespoons salt
  • 4 lemons, peeled and chopped
  • 14 ounces wet tamarind
  • 6 ounces dried porcini mushrooms

Mix thoroughly and bring to a boil over medium heat. Reduce to a low boil and simmer for one hour, until mixture becomes thick enough to coat a spoon and highly aromatic.Strain through a fine sieve and return to a brazing pan. Over a low, gentle boil, reduce by half until the sauce is slightly syrupy. Strain again into a storage container. Cool and cover tightly. Will keep indefinitely in the refrigerator.

Venison Sausage

  • One hind leg of venison, about 12-15 lbs
  • 3-5 lbs fatty pork trim, to make up 30% of finished weight
  • 1 large Spanish onion, peeled and chopped
  • 6 sprigs fresh thyme
  • 6 bay leaves

Per 10 lbs of forcemeat:

  • 6 Tablespoons kosher salt
  • 2 teaspoons pink curing salt
  • 2 Tablespoons black pepper
  • 1 teaspoon cayenne pepper
  • 2 teaspoons ground allspice
  • 1 teaspoon ground Ceylon cinnamon
  • 1/2 cup juniper berries
  • 1/4 cup stone pine liqeuer
  • 1/4 cup calvados
  • 1 cup iced venison stock
  • lamb casings for stuffing

Debone the leg of venison, and cut the meat into strips to fit the sausage grinder. Mix with the pork trim and refrigerate. In the mean time, use a heavy cleaver or meat saw to cut the leg bone into 1″ segments. Soak in ice water for one hour or overnight. Drain and rinse well. Put in a medium saucepan and cover with cold water. Make a stock by standard instructions, including onion, thyme, and bay. Once complete, strain the stock and reduce to one cup. Chill thoroughly.

Make sure your meat, other ingredients, and grinding equipment are all thoroughly chilled. Grind the venison and pork through a 1/4″ plate. Mix with all seasonings except liquids and pass through the sausage grinder again. Combine the stone pine liqeuer, calvados, and stock and mix well into the forcemeat. Chill thoroughly until ready to stuff. Stuff into medium sheep casings, 22-24MM. Refrigerate uncovered overnight. The following day, smoke at 130 degrees for three hours, then increase temperature to 165 degrees and smoke until sausage registers 165 degrees internally. Cool and refrigerate until needed.

Stuffing venison sausage in sheep casings

Creole Chaurice

  • 10 lbs fatty pork and trim
  • 6 Tablespoons kosher salt
  • 2 teaspoons pink curing salt
  • 1/4 cup granulated onion
  • 1/4 cup fresh garlic, peeled and crushed
  • 1/4 cup cumin powder
  • 3 Tablespoons freshly ground tellicherry peppercorns
  • 1 Tablespoon crushed red pepper
  • 1/4 cup high-ASTA Spanish paprika
  • 1 Tablespoon ground allspice
  • 2 Tablespoons dried thyme leaves
  • 1 Tablespoon dried oregano
  • 1-1/2 cups iced water

Make sure your meat, other seasonings, and grinding equipment are all thoroughly chilled. Grind the pork through a 1/4″ plate. Combine with all seasonings and mix well. Pass through the 1/4″ grinding plate once more. Mix iced water into forcemeat, combining thoroughly. Stuff into hog casings and tie into links of your desired size, 6-8″ recommended. Refrigerate overnight before using.

Rabbit Confit

  • 4 large roasting rabbits, 3 – 3-1/2# each
  • 3 Tablespoons kosher salt
  • 1 Tablespoon cracked black pepper
  • a few sprigs fresh thyme
  • a few bay leaves
  • rabbit, duck, chicken, or pork fat, or a combination, rendered and melted but not hot

Clean your rabbits under cold running water. Remove loins or entire saddle for other purposes and set aside. Place hind and fore legs, organs, trim, cavity fat, and belly meat in a mixing bowl and toss with the seasonings. Place in a single layer on a well drained rack and refrigerate overnight to cure. The following day, use a heavy casserole large enough to contain all the rabbit with room to spare. Gently melt your confit fats without getting it too hot. Lay out cured rabbit in the casserole and cover with the melted fat by a half inch or so, making sure the fat fills out the bottom of the pan and in between pieces of rabbit as well. Cover tightly and cook in a 275 degree oven for eight hours, overnight works well. Remove from oven and check consistency of rabbit. It should easily fall off the bone. Allow to cool enough to handle, then carefully pull rabbit from the bones, being cautious as rabbit has lots of pin bones. Check and correct seasoning as you go. Reserve confit meat under a layer of leftover fat in the refrigerator, discard the bones, and strain and save the fat in the refrigerator for your next use.

Duck Confit

  • 6 large ducklings, 4 – 5 lbs
  • 1/4 cup  kosher salt
  • 1/4 cup brown sugar
  • 1 Tablespoon cracked black pepper
  • a few sprigs fresh thyme
  • a few bay leaves
  • rabbit, duck, chicken, or pork fat, or a combination, rendered and melted but not hot

Clean your ducks under cold running water. Remove the legs, thighs, wings, neck fat, and cavity fat, reserving the rest for other purposes. Separate the legs from the thighs at the joint. Place legs, thighs, and wings in a mixing bowl and toss with the seasonings. Place in a single layer on a well drained rack and refrigerate overnight to cure. The following day, use a heavy casserole large enough to contain all the duck with room to spare. Gently melt your confit fats without getting it too hot. Lay out the duck’s neck and cavity fat on the bottom of the casserole and lay out the bony parts on top.  Cover with the melted fat by a half inch or so, making sure the fat fills out the bottom of the pan and in between pieces of duck as well. Cover tightly and cook in a 275 degree oven for eight hours, overnight works well. Remove from oven and check consistency of the thigh meat. It should easily fall off the bone. Allow to cool enough to handle, then carefully remove the duck parts, being careful to keep them whole as you will want to fry them whole for presentation. Refrigerate in a single layer until needed. Strain and reserve leftove fat in the refrigerator for your next use.

Buttered Bread Crumbs

  • 2 pounds rich feathery bread, such as brioche, challah, or Sally Lunn
  • 1/2 pound unsalted butter
  • 2 teaspoons kosher salt
  • 1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper

Using your hands, gently pull apart and crumble bread into large feathery crumbs. In the mean time, melt butter over low heat, stirring often to prevent browning and maintain creaminess. Once melted, toss with the bread crumbs, combining well. Season with salt and pepper. Refrigerate until needed.

Biscuits

  • 5 cups all-purpose flour
  • 3 teaspoons baking soda
  • 2 teaspoons cream of tartar
  • 1 Tablespoon kosher salt
  • 1 cup freshly rendered pork fat, well chilled, cut into small bits
  • 2 cups, approximately, buttermilk or sweet milk

Preheat oven to 425 degrees and prepare two 18″ x 12″ cookie sheets with a thin rubbing of fat. Sift the flour, soda, tartar, and salt together. Work in the pork fat, mashing the bits of fat between your fingers until well incorporated and the mixture resembles a coarse meal. Working quickly, add the milk a bit at a time, working with your hands until just enough has been added for the dough to come together. Turn out onto a well floured board. Turn the dough over on itself a few times, roll out to 3/4″ thickness and cut with a biscuit cutter. Place biscuits on cookie sheet and go straight to the oven. Bake at 425 until puffed and fairly well browned, about twenty minutes. Serve without delay.

Kumquat Marmalade

  • 5 Lbs fresh kumquats, washed and sliced thinly
  • 2 cups water
  • 5 cups sugar
  • 1 teaspoon salt

Place the kumquats and water in a heavy-bottomed stainless steel or enameled cast iron saucepan. Bring to a boil over medium heat, then reduce heat and maintain a low boil, stirring often, until fruit is tender, about 30-45 minutes. Add the sugar and increase heat slightly. Reduce liquid while checking the temperature frequently. When mixture registers 224 degrees on a candy thermometer, remove from heat at once. Can according to regular instructions or simply refrigerate in an airtight container, where it will keep for months.

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A Few Recent Specials

Thursday, January 13th, 2011

I promise to deliver the first Anatomy of a Dish entry of the year next week, when I will lay out our cassoulet process and recipes for you. In the meantime, here’s some eye candy featuring specials we’ve done over the last month or so. I confess that the holiday season was so busy I didn’t get much photography done, but here’s a little to tie you over till the next photo shoot.

This is guineafowl with trumpet mushrooms, Perigord truffles, pearl barley, cauliflower, candied kumquat, and pea shoot-pumpkin seed salad. This was an indulgence when we had a full nugget of black truffle left from New Year’s Eve. Guineafowl are unique among domesticated game fowl in that they are indigenous to Africa. We deboned the entire bird and rolled them up into torchons (or roulades) with the skin intact on the outside so we could sear them crisp. The bones were roasted very darkly and reduced to make the jus you see strewn about the plate. The black trumpets were partially dehydrated then fried crisp in clarified butter and the rendered fat from the birds, yielding a lightly crisp texture and rich mouthfeel with their patently earthy aroma and taste. The barley adds a creamy element and mildly earthy taste, cauliflower adds its rich vegetal and sulfur notes to add a mild bitterness and different creamy texture. Candied kumquats add acidity, a resinous citrus aroma, and characteristic bitterness, and could also be thought of as a play on orange with duck even though that wasn’t our motivation. The pumpkin seeds were fried in the butter/guinea fat after the mushrooms to add a rich green oil to the plate and delightful crisp, the pea shoots and light vinaigrette dressing them freshen everything up. This was my favorite dish of the winter (other than gumbo of course.)

This is a Gunthorp Farm rabbit ballotine, crispy leg confit, & chicken fried foreleg with butternut squash & Carolina gold rice risotto, rutabega, chanterelles, and collard sprouts. The ballotine was a fun project where I made a rabbit braunschweiger out of the organs, cavity fat, and trim, and rolled it inside the rabbit’s belly (the same part that makes bacon on a pig,) and the rabbit’s loin inside that, then wrapped the entire thing in bacon. It was a fun way to eat the entire rabbit prepared five different ways on one plate including the jus, which was made by roasting and extracting all the bones, and the braunschweiger as a separate treatment, which it surely is even while wrapped up with the belly and loin. The ballontine looked like this after a brief poaching, before the final searing:

The risotto added a creaminess, the butternut squash added its gentle sweet earthiness, chanterelles evoke the forest so well with game such as rabbit, and the rutabegas – one of my favorite winter vegetables – were confited with the rabbit legs and added their own vegetal bitterness balanced with their innate sweetness that marries so well with fats, and the collards keep it fresh and add a little spice when young.

This is South Carolina fluke (larger flounder) which were brought in whole and butchered, their roe and trim making a stuffing for the filets that was also seasoned with a little crawfish. They’re rolled into cylinders and tied tightly before a quick poaching for service. Served with rose finn fingerlings which were sauteed in butter, roasted leeks, chicory, cilantro, and a spicy peanut sauce. The fluke is flaky and their stuffing is creamy which is complimented by the substantial but creamy texture of the potatoes, earthy minerals and sweetness of leeks, bitterness of chicory, bright green of cilantro, and the richness, acidity, sweetness, and spice of the peanut sauce. The peanut sauce was made with the same curry powder that’s been enjoyed in Charleston for centuries, Indian yellow curry. It was important in trade during the colonial period, and Charleston was a major trade port in the global economy. I’m sure some bonafide native southern chefs have done this at some point, but I applied my previous experience in Southeast Asian cooking and used some other iconic coastal southern ingredients – peanuts, lime, cane syrup – to make a spicy peanut sauce reminiscent of a Malaysian peanut sauce, which has long been a favorite accompaniment to fish for me.

This is Awendaw Spoonbread, which is the only one of these dishes that has yet to be served – it’s on the Valentine’s menu as our bread service for the 5-course menu. It’s named for the Awendaw tribe of Native Americans from north of Charleston who inhabited an area just south of the mouth of the Great Pee Dee River.  We are serving it in a crock because you have to eat it with a spoon, or at least a fork, because it is too soft and creamy to pick up with your fingers. If you like our regular cornbread muffins, you might be interested to know that this recipe was the root of that recipe, but I needed something you could pick up with your fingers, so I adjusted the recipe. This is even better than our cornbread muffins, which I love. It’s actually way better. It starts with hot cooked creamy grits, with an added mixture that resembles a typical Lowcountry cornbread recipe. The grits cream up the cornbread in an amazing way, but the raw cornmeal adds a texture and pure corn richness that augments the grits. This is perhaps the greatest ode to corn in the history of cooking. Not my recipe particularly, but Awendaw Spoonbread: hominy + raw field corn + eggs + sweet milk = supremely rich + impossibly light at the same time. For the Valentine’s Day 5-course menus, we’ll add a truffle and corn mushroom (a.k.a. huitlacoche) butter at the end of cooking and put the lid on the crock, then open it tableside. It will be something.

It seems like when it gets cold outside and the growing season ends and with it canning season, I spend my spare time making ballotines. This is a special we did with a recent Gunthorp Farm whole hog order. When we get these, there’s only a few orders of tenderloin on the whole pig, and it’s special. In this instance, we wrapped the tenderloin in some house tasso and wrapped that in the butt end of the loin, then the whole in bacon. Cure, then poach before searing the outside of the cylinder. We served it with creamed scallions (one of my gazillion Edna Lewis favorites) confit rutabegas, herb spaetzle, and mustard foam. Well let me tell you foam is still a way to add a hint of something to a dish instead of pounding you over the head with it. In this case, we had a very hearty dish that could benefit from the pungent spiciness of mustard, but we thought that straight mustard would not only be boring, but too intense for the entire dish. Yes, there’s a lot of pork and roots and fat and dumplings on that plate, but the other flavors were, if richly flavored, very subtle. Lightening the mustard in a lecithin-based foam seemed like the way to go, and it was a hit.

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