Ruth Reichl's Blog, page 2

A Fine Day to Cook

The sky is gray, the air damp; clouds loom.  It's a day to stay inside and cook.

After the silly recipes of the past few days, here's one that sounds like a project worth investing time in.  (I have no Tilsit on hand, so I'll probably substitute a pungent Gouda.)

I imagine serving this with roasted tomato soup, and perhaps a cucumber salad on the side.  Lovely little dinner on an almost-fall night.

A Cake to Conjure With

I'm trying to think who would want to create this cake, from the January 1975 issue of Gourmet, and suffering a total failure of imagination.  The same person, I suppose, who'd want to make this Filet of Beef en Gelee.

 

Should you, however, be that person, here's the recipe for the cake.  Roll up  your sleeves; it's going to take some time.

 

A Truly Ridiculous Recipe

I'm not sure I even need to editorialize about this recipe, which says a great deal about what the notion of "gourmet cooking" was when it was printed, in January 1975.  I imagine Gourmet readers, with a great deal of time on their hands, spending hours making these fussy little hors d'oeuvres. Every single step is time-consuming.

It gives me great pleasure to see these old recipes. And even more to know that this is one I won't be trying any time soon. Or ever.

 Tomorrow, another recipe from the same  issue.  It may be even more absurd.

A Recipe for a Cool Fall Day

It's hard to believe that Gourmet ever published a recipe for blood sausage, especially one that casually begins, "For every four cups pork blood...." Perhaps in 1951 the average American could go next door and borrow a few pints of blood from the neighboring farmer? 

Here, for your delectation, is the recipe.

And if you're in the mood for those sausages, perhaps you'd like some of these as well?

Good Sauce, Fancy Booze

From 1983 - an unusual green sauce, requiring all manner of interesting herbs

And a stunningly expensive bottle of booze (and remember, this is 1983 dollars).

Stir-Fried Potatoes - and More

A couple of fascinating recipes from the February, 1984 issue of Gourmet.  Although they're from a winter issue, they could not be more timely.  If you're going to make these stir-fried potatoes from the much-lamented Auntie Yuan restaurant, what better time to try them than right now, when new potatoes fill the markets?

 As for zucchini - well, if you have a garden, you'll be grateful for this simple recipe.  I made it last night - using red peppers in place of green and upping the amount of basil, and it vanished so quickly I never even got to take a picture!

And I could not resist this ad: farm to table, circa 1984:

Vintage Popcorn

File this under: Everything old is new again. From a 1984 issue of Gourmet, a whole slew of fascinating suggestions for gourmet popcorn.  Do not miss the bacon-Cheddar version!

Farm to Table Squared

 

 

This might be the most delicious chicken I've ever eaten. If you want to taste it too, you need to go to Fish & Game, Zak Pelaccio's ur-local restaurant in Hudson, New York. It's a beautiful restaurant, a former blacksmith shop that's all dark wood and local craftsmanship, with an open kitchen and the scent of wood-smoke wafting through the romantically-lit room.

But it is definitely not for everyone. 

If you're intrigued by the notion of a restaurant so dedicated to using local products that the chefs make their own fish sauce, their own Worcestershire sauce and spend the summer canning vegetables to use in winter, you'll want to eat here.  Fish & Game does more than pay lip service to the notion of local food; they're serious about the whole notion of local, seasonal and nose to tail. But like all great restaurants, this kitchen disdains the notion of playing it safe; the chefs are constantly experimenting, and not everything succeeds. 

But first, the chicken: an exciting expression of how great simple cooking can be. The menu says it serves 2, but this prodigious bird (which costs $65) is easily enough for 4. The skin is so crisp it crackles, the flesh so soft, smooth and velvet-tender that had I not seen the bird emerge, whole, from the oven I would have sworn the breast had been cooked sous-vide. We tucked in, eating it with our fingers, savoring every seductive bite.

And then, when we thought we were finished, the carcass arrived at the table. 

I've always believed that meat is sweeter close to the bone, and I sat there, unabashedly stripping the meat away, placing it on the damp, rich bread tucked beneath the bird. Saturated with the moist bacon-scented drippings, this was a Tom Jones moment.  But the best was yet to come.

I woke at 4 a.m. with the bright light of the crescent moon pouring into the bedroom. Outside the tree frogs were having too much fun.  I looked up to find Orion spread across the sky. Tiptoeing into the kitchen, I snatched the chicken from the fridge and took the carcass outside. Alone in the clear, star-dappled night I listened to the wind calling softly through the leaves, eating the last of the chicken.  

There were other fine moments in this meal. These oysters, with their spicy vinaigrette:

Lobster fried rice, an irresistible tangle of textures and a symphony of sensations: rich, soft, crisp, crunchy, the lobster gentle among those brittle fried grains of rice.,

And this corn with clams and caviar - an inspired combination.  The brininess of the clams underlined the sweet intensity of the corn in the most wonderful way.

Beans, tossed with all the herbs and vegetable of the season, pure summer.

And a puree of potato that paid homage to the great Robuchon dish - pure decadence - a mountain of butter with a bit of potato whisked in.

It would be difficult to end on a higher note than this simple panna cotta, sparked with plum, zinged with balsamic, just the right note of sweetness.

The wine list is impressive. We drank an extremely delicious Sicilian rose - Susucaru - from a slightly mad winemaker who, like the restaurant, is rigorous, organic and iconoclastic.  Still, I wish there were more affordable wines on this list.  The wines are fairly priced, but it's for rich people; there's almost nothing below $60. 

The food is also fairly priced; you're going to spend a lot of money, but if you're a food-focused person you'll think it's worth it to experience this intensely focused kitchen.  And if you're not..... you may just be annoyed. There's a cool arrogance to this restaurant, which leaves you feeling that they're more concerned with what they're doing than how you're feeling.  They have a mission, but it's not, ultimately, about making you happy. I know people who hate this place.  And I understand why.

As for me, I admire what they're doing.  But you'll have to excuse me; I have a chicken carcass waiting to become soup.  

Three Swell Recipes

The January 1977 issue of Gourmet has three recipes I can't wait to try. Two are for unusual pancakes. The first, from an article by Fanny Todd Mitchell on the pleasures of Auvergne, are for buckwheat pancakes. They're served as dessert, usually with jam or honey, but I imagine them with slices of ripe peaches and a dollop of sour cream.

 

The next, a reader request for some pancakes sampled at the Buena Vista Hotel in Nassau, are an innocent version of crepes suzettes.

And finally, a recipe I could not resist, for a basil and fennel-scented chicken stew from La Mere Blanc. This sounds exactly like what I'll want to eat in early autumn!

 

A Fine Souffle

Today's vintage recipe - don't you love this photo? - is from the January 1985 issue of Gourmet. Although it's a winter issue, it's perfect for the current season, when markets are filled with just-picked peppers, young eggplants, scallions and garlic. I'll be making this for Labor Day lunch, using fresh red peppers and tomatoes in place of the jars suggested here. 

And here, as promised yesterday, is the young Jacques Pepin and his recipe.