Sunday, November 22, 2009

Not Your Mother's Brussels Sprouts

Steph got some amazing Brussels sprouts at the farmers' market the other day. Even the compost bucket was made beautiful by them. (Note the purple veins in the leaves and the stalk they came on.)



We had them tonight with some leftover chicken meat gently reheated in a cup or so of of dark pan deglazing, orzo, and some crusty bread from Black Crow Bakery. The sprouts were perfectly sweet and nutty, with just the right springy but yielding texture - absolutely head and shoulders above the usual dodgy supermarket version. Tristan - who at the beginning of the meal claimed not to like Brussels sprouts - had seconds. So did Steph and I.

My standard method for sprouts - which I think came originally from Julia Child - is as follows:

Cut off the bottoms of the sprouts if darkened or dirty. Obviously you don't need to do this if you're plucking them right from the stalk. Remove any loose or buggy outer leaves. If they are large, cut the sprouts in half. You want to end up with even sized pieces for even cooking. Par-cook them in a large saucepan full of vigorously boiling water, until easily pierced with a fork but still bright-green and fresh smelling. Check every 30 seconds, as they can get away from you easily, and no one likes an overcooked Brussels sprout. Immediately plunge into several changes of very cold water to stop all cooking. See photo of sprouts in strainer to get an idea of the color you are shooting for. Set aside.



Five minutes before ready to serve, toss sprouts gently in a skillet over moderate heat with a generous amount of butter, until just heated through. Off heat, squeeze half a lemon over them and sprinkle with coarse sea salt. Serve immediately on warm plates.

Sunday, November 8, 2009

Stiff Windpipe, Red Feet, and Larousse Gastronomique: They’re All Bad

To celebrate a special occasion some months ago, I forked over a bunch of money to buy the family a copy of the Larousse Gastronomique. It has a reputation as one of the great reference books for foodies.



It’s been a big disappointment. On six or eight occasions, usually over a family supper, we’ve hauled it out, eagerly anticipating an in-depth explanation of some term or concept. For example, earlier this week we looked up a controversial mackerel-family fish known variously as “white tuna” and “Escolar”. Marion Burros at the Times seems to know all about it, but not Larousse. Each time we have looked something up, we have found no reference whatsoever. Most recently, tonight, we found that there was no entry for turkey Tetrazzini. So much for the comprehensive encyclopedia of food and cooking.

The tome is fascinating to dip into, if you have no agenda and just feel like killing some time. For example, here is some information about turbot (entry immediately preceding turkey):

...Its tough skin lacks visible scales but is covered with small bony tubercles (hence its name, which derives from the Scandinavian word for a thorn).

“Highly esteemed since ancient times and nicknamed roi du carême (king of Lent) for centuries, turbot has been prepared in the most sumptuous ways. For Napoleon, Laguipière created turbot à l’impériale (cut into slices, poached in milk, arranged with crayfish tails and coated with a truffle sauce). The way in which it was cut up at table, with a silver fish slice, was formerly governed by precise rules.”


Mostly, though, it just makes you understand, with exasperation and profound sympathy for American cooks of the mid twentieth century, exactly why Julia Child became so popular as a decipherer of French arcana. From the entry on turkey:

Selecting and preparing turkey. A good turkey should be young, plump and short-necked, with a supple windpipe. If the bird is old, its feet are reddish and scaly.”

Thank you so much, Larousse Gastronomique.