Soup of the Week: French Onion

      When I lived in Manhattan, I often ordered French onion soup as a late night snack at a diner or bistro and justified paying five or six dollars for it by telling myself it wasn't the type of thing you could make at home. In Paris, I ordered it everywhere I ate, savoring each variation. It is a perfect light meal during the week, especially when rounded out by a nice salad and a glass of red wine. We recently enjoyed this soup with this delightful Bordeaux blend (pictured at right). The French are great at making easy drinking table wines, and this one is a prime example, dry and subtle, and a bargain at $14 per magnum.

     Last winter I started a project to demystifying French Onion soup, so I could make it for myself (and maybe a lucky friend or two) just how I wanted, whenever I wanted. I bought myself some oven proof crocks and read up on all the different recipes out there. The soup that I make right now is based on Anthony Bourdain's recipe from Les Halles.

     Not a lot of fancy ingredients are required to make French onion soup. That is one of the things I love about it: onions, stock, bread, cheese and seasonings. Blissfully simple!

I usually splurge on a nice cheese, since you don't use a whole lot of it and I feel that it makes a big difference. Gruyere is my favorite so far, but you can really use whichever cheese (or blend of cheeses) you like, or have in the fridge. Swiss, provolone, mozzarella, gouda...the sky's the limit!

This dish does require patience. I've broken it down in my head to several steps, which gives me more flexibility and allows me to make this wonderful soup more often:

Caramelized onions. Our friend, Frankie, gave us some of his country bacon. I couldn't bring myself to waste the bacon grease that was left over after cooking it, so I sliced up some onions and let them cook in the grease at a low heat. This is the first place patience comes in. It can take some time for onions to get as rich, brown and melty as you want them. Watch them carefully because you don't want the onions to burn. The process is very satisfying, and smells just wonderful, but I don't always have the time to do it.

     Luckily, I have learned that you can caramelize onions in a crock pot. It usually takes 10-12 onions, sliced, to fill my crockpot, which I then drizzle generously with olive oil (sometimes I use a knob of butter as well, or instead) and sprinkle the top with dried thyme and maybe throw in a bay leaf. This doesn't achieve exactly the same result as caramelizing in a pan, but it saves a lot of time. The caramelized onions keep well in the fridge. I've also read that you can freeze them, but I haven't tried that yet (ie I always eat them all before they get to the freezer.) There are lots of other excellent uses for caramelized onions, such as a topping for a burger or steak or in an omelette.

     Once the onions are caramelized (or onions that you've pre-caramelized are warmed though), you can add a splash of port, sherry, balsamic vinegar, red wine, white wine, or any combination thereof. (Maybe a some of what you're planning to serve with the soup, or some of what you've been drinking while you caramelize the onions.) Recipes vary here, so it's up to you. For me, it depends on my mood and the levels of the bottles in my cupboard.

Stock. Next, add the stock to the pan with the onions. Simmer the stock with the onions to allow the flavors to concentrate, tasting as you go. Ladle soup into oven proof crocks. Put a slice of toasted bread and some cheese at the bottom of the the bowl before adding the soup for a great extra surprise.
Both beef and chicken stock (or a combination of the two) work well in this soup. Stock does merit (and will get) its own post(s), but long story short: the better the stock, the better the soup. This rule especially applies with French Onion. Making stock also takes patience, but there really is no substitute. You can make your stock ahead of time and keep it in the fridge, or freeze it, so it's ready when you want to make the soup.  Your crockpot can also come in handy preparing the stock.

Assembling the soup. First, preheat your broiler. Slice up a baguette or whatever bread you'd like, toast one slice per serving and float on the soup in the crock. This is an excellent use for day old bread. I had great success once using a leftover olive roll. Grate the cheese, and generously top the crouton with this. Make sure to sprinkle some over the edge. It will form a tasty crust on the crock. The crouton and cheese make this soup. I can't think of another dish where the garnish is so important, but I do know that melted cheese makes anything taste better.

Place the crocks on a baking sheet and broil on high for a 5-7 minutes, keeping a close eye. By this time, your house will smell delicious and you'll be getting your spoon ready to dig in.

Allow to cool before devouring.

The Red Newt Bistro

The first time I tasted Red Newt's 2005 Cab Franc was about a year ago. There were undeniable notes of chocolate on the nose, and upon tasting the wine, said chocolate just washed over you. I ordered it eagerly when we went to dinner at The Red Newt Bistro. It was pleasant enough, but not the ecstasy I remembered. I'm afraid this wine has come and gone, which particularly disappoints me because I have two bottles at home. Such is the game we play when we save wine, hoping it will improve. This didn't spoil our dining experience.

It was a Thursday night (Half Price Wine!), and we sat at the bar. (I apologize for the poor quality of the photos in this post. The lighting was low, and I was trying to be subtle.) The server was warm and knowledgeable. The roll they brought us (baked in-house, I'm sure) to munch on while looking at the menu, with some olive oil for dipping, was a nice touch. I chose the White Lasagna for which Chef Deb Whiting is locally renowned. The menu describes it as "layers of seasonal vegetables, organic spinach, ricotta cheese, roasted garlic cream sauce." It was a delicious, creamy dish that epitomized comfort food. 

Pat had the Beef Tenderloin Tips, which came with woodland mushrooms, onions, bordelaise sauce served over basmati rice. This was a beautifully seasoned, simple dish that we'd both recommend.

Dinner was flavorful enough to entice us into ordering dessert to share. There were lots of good choices, but the plum cobbler stood out. It's interesting that, despite my sincere love of all things chocolate, at restaurants most of the time I will choose fruit-based desserts.
This was obviously the right choice. The gingerbread that topped this cobbler was an inspried complement to the plums, and a lovely end to a lovely meal. The Red Newt has a reputation around here as being snooty and expensive. Our experience there was anything but. The meal was a good value for well thought out dishes made with quality, local ingredients. We'll go back, and I look forward to a special occasion when I can splurge on the Chef's Menu with the wine pairings.

Yes, I CAN!

    
     At the peak of tomato season, I made some roasted tomato salsa that came out with a little too much of a kick for general consumption. I could have roasted some more tomatoes, or added some fresh tomatoes to the mix, but decided on peaches instead. Their sweetness turned out to be just the thing to balance the smoky heat from the chipotles in adobo. The combination is moreish, and I'd love to be able to eat it all year long.

I'd been reading up on home food preservation, and picking the brains of my friends-who-can for advice. With windowsills full of tomatoes and 12 plants still producing, this was a perfect opportunity to give it a shot. I carefully followed the steps laid out in the Ball Complete Guide to Home Preserving, constantly cross-referencing the manual to my pressure cooker. Canning can go very wrong, and one doesn't want to risk any contamination.

Once the jars and lids were prepared, I set up a one person assembly line prepping the ingredients. An assortment of Romas, Early Girls and Cherry Tomatoes from my garden were cored and quartered, then roasted with red onion and garlic. A peck of peaches  (from Indian Creek Farms in Ithaca) were blanched, peeled and cut into chunks. A big bunch of cilantro was roughly chopped. A chipotle pepper was taken out of it's tin, deseeded and pureed with a cup or so worth of the roasted tomato mixture. If you're sensitive to the pepper heat, start with half a chipotle and go from there. I like to add a spoonful or so of the adobo sauce for extra smokiness. The remaining roasted tomatoes, onions and garlic are cut into pieces and added to the puree, along with the peach chunks and cilantro. Tortilla chips were handy for tasting all along. Once the proper balance was achieved, the salsa then went into the jars.
I bought my pressure cooker for fifty cents from a neighbor that Pat's known for ages who was moving, complete with the weight and owner's manual. This method of canning feels safer, because of the high temperatures reached while processing. Using it for the first time was a little scary.

Luckily, Patrick's mother (also know as Cook Cook) canned all the time when he was growing up, so he was able to reassure me that all those noises were normal.

I haven't opened any of the jars yet, but there they are in my pantry, vacuums holding tight, promising to bring a little summer warmth to the central New York winter.

Soup of the Week: Lentil with Swiss Chard

     In order to properly celebrate soup season, I bought myself a new stockpot. It's stainless steel with a "good mild-steel sandwich on the bottom," as specified by Barbara Kafka in her Soup, a way of life. What better to way to christen my new toy than to experiment with a new recipe from the soup maven: chard and lentil soup.
      I was inspired by a particularly beautiful bunch of ruby chard at Countryside Produce, a wonderful local Amish shop where I get lots of great ingredients. (I'd share their website, but...)

       The seasonings harmonized well, none belting out above the choir  (even the often overpowering cilantro and cumin.) This is a wonderful, hearty soup to stock in the freezer or take to the office for lunch. The consistency was so thick, in fact, that I added water when I heated up individual servings. It also worked nicely as a bed for the other two smoked pork chops that Frankie gave us.

Lentil is a staple in my soup rotation, and I was very much looking forward to the first batch of the season. It's always fun to find variations on a much loved theme, and this wholesome soup has earned a place in my heart.

Thank you, Ms. Kafka, my sister in soup, for another wonderful recipe!

Littletree Orchards

A sunny day was forecast amid the rain, so we took advantage of it by going apple picking. The rolling hills south of Ithaca were bright with color. We haven't seen as much change in the leaves in Lodi yet but, as Pat pointed out, we are closer to the lake. (This is an interesting illustration of the microclimate created by Seneca and Cayuga Lakes.)

     I liked the laid back atmosphere at Littletree Orchards right away. There were fresh cider donuts and apple cider, hot or cold, available self-serve in the barn. We had a look at the map of the orchard and headed out with a couple 1/2 bushel bags in hand.

     The brisk day was perfect for a walk amongst the apple trees. The first tree we reached was a McIntosh. I picked one to munch along the way. Lovely sweet flavor with plenty of crunch.

Check out the nest (above) I spotted in one of the trees. Those smart birds must be living like kings!

 

It was interesting to see the so many varieties of apples available. It seemed that we had arrived a little late in the season, but I also overheard that this year's crop was a fairly small one. I didn't end up pick a whole lot, but it sure put me the mood to bake. You'll be sure to be reading about it soon.

 

Northern Spys (below) are said to be great for making hard cider.

 

The Asian pears (below) were crisp and juicy, but on the small side.

This is a great field trip for children of all ages!

Smoked Pork Chops with Fresh Peach Chutney

      Pat and I celebrated the change of seasons with this meal, a serendipitous combination of summer and fall ingredients. Harvest is upon us. The Finger Lakes grapes are being picked and crushed. Our friend, Frankie, had his pig slaughtered, and he shared a couple smoked pork chops and some country bacon with us. I was eager to taste them.

     Despite the change of weather and appetites, my garden is still producing tomatoes, and even provided a couple nasturtiums to brighten the plate. A quick Google gave me ideas on putting together a chutney to smother the chops with, using up the last of the summer's peaches. In a small saucepan on low to medium heat, I melted brown sugar in apple cider vinegar. Then, I added grated ginger and carefully minced hot pepper (courtesy of our friend Fred's garden), tasting all the while to test for balance of flavors. Next, I tossed in half a handful of raisins, which soon plumped up. Lastly, I stirred in chunks of peeled peaches. The chutney was then simmered until it reached the desired consistency, and allowed to cool to room temperature before spooning over the meat.

      Frankie's instructions regarding the pork chops were: put these in a pan with some water and a little butter. They are already cooked (via smoking) so they just have to be warmed through. The truly wonderful thing about this pork is that has no water added. This provides a superior texture and flavor to the meat. It also doesn't hurt to know that the pig was raised down the road, fattened on kitchen scraps and garden refuse.

We paired the meal with one of my favorite wines of the summer, Lamoreaux Landing's 2008 Red Oak Vineyard Riesling. All the grapes in this wine come from a four acre vineyard in southern Seneca County. The vines in this parcel are very young and 2008 was the first harvest from the Red Oak Vineyard. The result was an off dry riesling, which is incredibly fragrant on the nose with nice orchard fruit and honeysuckle notes. (Yes, I have my tasting room speech down. What can I say? I work at Lamoreaux because I love the wine.)
    We are squeezing the last drops out of summer, but welcome the coziness and spice that fall promises.


  

Soup of the week: Fish Chowder

The first day of Autumn was chilly. I knew I was coming down with something because all I could think about all day was soup. Luckily, I had the rest of the haddock in the fridge that needed to be used. This chowder hit the spot. Jasper White calls this recipe the most authentic in his book 50 Chowders: One-Pot Meals -- Clam, Corn & Beyond. It tasted just like I wanted a New England Fish Chowdah to taste, and was even better the next day. Salt pork can easily replaced with bacon. I used whole milk instead of cream for a lighter soup and was pleased with the results.

   The recipe suggested garnishing with fresh snipped chives. I wanted to add a little kick to the mild, smooth soup and complement the fish, so I sprinkled mine with Old Bay. You can take the girl out of Maryland....

Bringing Jean Georges home

       The sweet and sour jus served with the snapper at Jean Georges bewitched me. I couldn't get it out of my head. Aside from butter, I couldn't put my finger on the ingredients I was tasting. I only knew the rich combination of flavors was intoxicating. Of course, upon reading the recipe the secret ingredient was obvious-- mushrooms!

     I was mainly interested in recreating the sauce, so I decided to concentrate on that, leaving the nut and seed crusting for next time. The trick was browning the butter slowly. Next time, I'll clarify the butter and keep a closer eye on it so it doesn't go quite so brown.

This is a totally different type of cooking from what I'm used to, giving you less freedom to multitask and requiring more careful attention to each step. It is an useful exercise in timing and discipline. I used sherry vinegar in place of the Banyuls vinegar. For the summer vegetables which swim in the buttery sauce, I used the last few cherry tomatoes from my garden, along with baby red potatoes and yellow pearl onions for some variety of color. (The mushrooms that were strained out of the sauce made an awesome addition to my scrambled eggs the next morning.)

I wasn't thrilled with the red snapper at Wegman's that day, so I chose some much nicer looking haddock fillets which were a couple dollars less per pound, which I pan fried simply and served over top.

The flavor was as I remembered it. Patrick and I enjoyed it outside (while we can!), watching another one of Seneca Lake's legendary sunsets. We paired it with a bottle of Lamoreaux Landing's 2007 Reserve Chardonnay, a beautiful complement. Butter all around!

Lunch at Jean Georges

When my farmer and I went to gawk at the big city last week, I had to get in some of Manhattan's  special brand of fancy eatin' . This is not a decision I took lightly. Pat teased me as I read dozens of menus, discussion boards and reviews online. After debating with my NY restaurant guru friend, Robert, I decided that we couldn't go wrong with the prix fixe lunch at Jean Georges.  Robert made a reservation for Wednesday at 12:15, and we were ready to go.

I got increasingly excited as the day approached, so of course we arrived downtown extra early. It didn't hurt that the train nearest to the flat where we were staying was the  A, which goes express from 125th to 59th street. The weather cooperated beautifully the first couple days of our trip, but Wednesday was more of a day to stay inside. After a brisk, touristy walk along the bottom of Central Park (dodging all the offers of carriage rides), we ducked into the Time Warner Center. There I introduced Pat to Whole Foods and Williams-Sonoma; it was a day full of firsts for him. We still had about 20 minutes to kill, so we sat down at the bar at Cafe Bouchon and enjoyed a glass of prosecco overlooking Columbus Circle.

Finally at noon we walked over to Trump Tower. After checking in with the hostess, we were taken to a lovely table in the center of the room, which was filled with natural light because of the ceiling to floor windows. The staff made us feel welcome from the moment we arrived. The decor was neutral, whites and greys set off by dark wood and merlot-colored flowers arranged simply on the tables. Robert arrived shortly after we did, and we each ordered a glass of sparkling wine from Napa, Domaine Carneros. The wine list was an impressive volume bound in leather. Our bubbly was a nice golden sparkler with brassy fruit flavors to sip on whilst taking in the room and contemplating the menu.

The server talked us through the menu, highlighting some of the most popular dishes along with his favorites, assuring us that it was nearly impossible to go wrong. After much discussion and agonizing, we ordered our lunches and a bottle of sparkling wine to share (Albert Boxler, Alsace).  This turned out to be a perfect choice, a virtually clear sparkling Riesling that was crisp and clean on the palate and really allowed each dish to shine.

The chef welcomed us with a trio of amuse bouche, which gave a brilliant idea of what  we had in store. What a lovely custom! It was a delightful contrast of flavors, textures and temperatures: sashimi of madai, a sweet corn fritter with chipotle cream sauce and tiny glass of  gazpacho which had been strained until it was colorless.

We were given the choice of hard french rolls or slices of whole grain bread, as the cutlery was readied for the first course. Robert and I had both chosen the Foie Gras Brulee with slow baked strawberries and balsamic vinegar. 

Just like the classic dessert, there was a hard caramelized crust to crack. Underneath there was a beautifully light-textured foie and the baked strawberries on a base of brioche. The sweet, jammy flavor of the berries was the dominant one for me, and it played nicely with the richness of the foie gras.

Pat's choice was Sea Trout Sashimi draped in trout eggs, lemon, dill and horseradish. The horseradish grated over top drew you in with its pungent aroma. It was an insprired combination of fresh, sharp and bright flavors, colors and aromas: a pale yellow lemon foam in the bottom of the bowl, against the orange of the sea trout, topped with the trout eggs, all set off by the vibrant green of the dill pesto.

Here's Robert's second course: Young Garlic Soup with thyme. It was served with sautéed frog legs on the side which he was invited to dip into the soup, which was smooth with a mild garlic flavor. They even brought him a finger bowl, complete with rose petals, after this dish. 

     Goat Cheese Gnocchi topped with caramelized baby artichoke and parsley was my next course. The "gnocchi" were lumps of pure goat cheese which were almost too rich. This wasn't quite balanced out by the tanginess of the cheese or the accompaniments. Perhaps we could have borrowed some of the sweetness from the previous dish!

Next, Patrick enjoyed Red Snapper Crusted with nuts and seeds with sweet and sour jus. He loved the crunch of the crust, and I was just fascinated by the perfect balance between sweet and sour in the sauce. Pat says he's never eaten at a restaurant like this, but he sure did a great job of ordering.

Robert's last course was Parmesan Crusted Confit Legs of chicken, Potato Puree and Lemon Butter, Jean Georges' version of comfort food. The parmesan flavor was a a great, salty addition that stuck in my mind.

When they brought my Roasted Sweetbreads and Fragrant Pickled Peach with wild arugula & pink peppercorn, I felt a twinge of sadness. I knew the meal was drawing to an end. The dish lifted my spirits, however, as I constructed the perfect bite with a bit of sweetbread, a chunk of pickled peach and a leaf of arugula.

The care that had gone into selecting each ingredient was obvious, and this dish achieved a balance of flavors which my earlier choices missed.

The lightly pickled peaches struck me as quite creative, and you know what will be going on in my kitchen next year when peach season rolls around. Their fruity acidity cut through the natural richness of the sweetbread, while the arugula contributed a lively pepperiness. Even though I generally prefer sweetbreads grilled and crunchier, this was a dish I really savored.

But wait! Of course, at this point we were brought the dessert menu. How could be resist? At Jean Georges, you chose a flavor theme for dessert and you a brought a plate of sweet treats based on that theme.

I chose Summer, accompanied by a glass of effervesant Moscato d'Asti. A delightful pairing with my almond and peach confection, plum-shiso sorbet and fresh blueberry soda. It must have been the shiso gave the sorbet a nice savory edge.

Patrick's Cherry dessert, paired with a 20 year Fonseca Port, featured a cherry tart and cherry coupe with chocolate and ice cream. (It must have been good because he devoured it before I got much of a taste.) 

Robert had the same port with his Chocolate tasting plate. On the right in the photo above is the famous molten chocolate cake(!), with vanilla bean ice cream center, and on the left a fanciful concoction of chocolate noodles in a peppermint soup.

The meal was rounded out with adorable mini peanut butter and jelly macarons and chocolates in assorted flavors. (My favorite was the bergamot.) This was a charming offering, and I wish I had taken a photo.

The splurge was completley worth it, even a good value for NYC. Each dish was thoughtfully prepared and beautifully presented. The service was attentive and gracious throughout. I appreciated the fact that they made our wine last throughout the meal. It was an utterly enchanting experience that I love reliving in my mind.

Arrival in the Finger Lakes

My dad and I drove up through Pennsylvania. It took longer than expected because we got lost detouring through Scranton. We'll take a different route next time.We got to the farm just in time to see Andrew milk his four Jersey cows.

Then we went to dinner at Paul's house. He owns the cabin I'm staying in. I also met John, who owns one of the local wineries. He had brought along his Gewertztraminer and Pinot Noir. We sampled these wines with a chunk of Andrew's Caerphilly sitting on Paul's deck overlooking Lake Seneca, followed by some yummy lasagne. I think I'm gonna like it here.