Saturday, February 28, 2009

Hair Happens

A few weekends ago, after a woman made a flamboyant scene over finding a hair (one that I believe was hers) in her dinner, another customer asked me, "What should we do if we find a hair?"

First, know that there are many sources of hair in food and that it doesn't do any good to point fingers at anyone. The hair could have already been in the food when the restaurant received it, it could have come from an employee or from your own body, or it could be a stray hair that happened to be on your clothing. If you at least allow the possibility that it might have come from you, say off of your sweater as the server passed the plate by you in setting it down, this might guide you in tempering your response.

Next, you should tell your server about the problem discretely. We want to know so that we can take corrective action, but the rest of the dining room would rather continue dining without hearing about it.

If it's not a big deal to you, you can remove the offending hair or eat around it. Or you can let us replace your meal. Or, if it is a really big deal and you cannot face the idea of eating further, let your server know that you prefer not to eat any more.

The absolute worst way to handle the situation is to make a scene in the dining room. Not only is it rude to the other guests in the dining room, but it will not endear you to the staff, whose role is to help you remedy the situation.

Here are two cases in point. Once a woman with long flaming orange hair chewed me out left, right, and center because she found a long flaming orange hair in her dinner. Why be ugly to the person who can help you? And then there was the piebald guy with the most crazy hair who made a big vociferous stink to me about one of his own very distinctive hairs on top of his dessert. He was so rude that he is not welcome back. These are prime examples of how not to handle the situation.

Then there was the lovely woman who discretely called me over and said, "The tip of a disposable pastry bag got loose in my beans. I work in a kitchen and I know how these things happen. I just wanted you to know." We would have gladly replaced her meal, but she was content just to put the little piece of plastic on her bread plate and keep eating. This is a good example of handling the situation where you find a foreign object, including a hair, in your food.

Just remember what the bumper sticker says: "Hair Happens." Well, it should say that. It doesn't happen very often, but it does. Remember that we didn't plan it that way and we want to make it right; causing a scene or yelling at us is only counterproductive.

Friday, February 27, 2009

It's Food not Intellectual Property

With the imminent release of my new electronic cookbook, I have had a couple people ask me about copyright issues as relates to cookbooks and recipes, especially as it pertains to an electronic cookbook that can be ripped off really easily. After all, we've all heard about famous cookbook authors ripping off recipes from other sources.

The law is pretty clear and pretty murky at the same time. A mere recipe, that is, a list of ingredients and the process of combining them, is generally not copyrightable. A novel industrial process of combining or cooking those ingredients might be patentable and a gee whiz name for a recipe (that is other than the obvious) might be trademarkable, but protecting the basic recipe, well, it's not happening. That's the clear part of the law: ripping off published recipes, while not ethical, is not illegal.

The murky part is what happens when you combine a recipe with several others to form a unique work called a cookbook. The overall work can likely be copyrighted: most courts would hold that nobody has the right to take your cookbook, put a new cover on it, and represent it as theirs. And of course, all your text surrounding the recipes is yours too. But as to the individual recipes in the book, they are documentation of the steps in a process and the Copyright Act is pretty clear about not protecting such things.

And I'm actually glad of that. Having been involved in intellectual property lawsuits in the computer software business, I've seen firsthand the chilling effect on creativity that IP lawsuits can have, and the kitchen is a place where we need all the creativity we can get. Moreover, I've seen what BS the patent examiners at the USPTO will let people patent.

As an example, they let Smucker's patent the crustless peanut butter and jelly sandwich back in 1999. Actually, the USPTO did something much more egregious than that. They let Smucker's patent any crustless sandwich, if you can believe that, the stuff that we made for our kids long before Smucker's ever decided to pursue their patents. Only after serious litigation did the USPTO cancel all the claims under Smucker's original ridiculous patent.

Speaking of ridiculous claims, Lebanon announced plans back in the fall of 2008 to sue Israel for stealing Lebanese dishes such as hummus, baba ghanouj, and tabbouleh and marketing them as their own. This falls in the category of "Are you serious?"

As the title of this post says, "It's Food, not Intellectual Property." There's no intellectual property in food. The Lebanese didn't invent anything, nor has any cook in recent memory. Even Ferran Adrià and acolytes haven't invented anything, as novel as it may appear on the plate. They're merely taking well known industrial food processes and bringing them into the restaurant kitchen. He knows this and has been very gracious about teaching the rest of us his tricks.

Everything that we do in the kitchen is based on what endless generations of cooks have done. For example, my cookbook includes a recipe for Persimmon Salsa. Granted it's not all that common a recipe and I had never heard of anyone doing it before me, but it would be ridiculous of me to think that I had invented anything. And a quick Google of "persimmon salsa" shows nearly 2000 references, most of which I am sure antedate my recipe.

Seriously, all I did was substitute one fruit for another in a sauce that has been around for centuries. That's not invention; that just what curious cooks do and have done since time began. Also, the recipe is there for the reader's convenience. You can imagine how useful a cookbook would be if a recipe called for a half a cup of Persimmon Salsa, and then referred you to some other book that you don't even own for the recipe, simply because somebody else had claimed ownership of the idea of Persimmon Salsa.

So, I give you my recipes willingly. And I hope that you will take them, modify them to make them your own, and pass them along. I learned from others and if you learn from me, I hope others can learn from you. Of course, if you don't modify the recipe significantly, it's always friendly to say "adapted from ...."

For more reading, I refer you to "Can a Recipe be Stolen?" by Joyce Gemperlein writing for the Washington Post and "The Patented Peanut Butter and Jelly Sandwich" by Anna Shih writing for Gastronomica.

Thursday, February 26, 2009

Why am I the Bad Guy?

Earlier this week, a customer brought in two bottles of wine and wanted us to open them and even offered to pay us a corkage fee. His issue: he's allergic to sulfites and this was wine that he made himself to guarantee that he has sulfite-free wine to drink. Unfortunately, to comply with the law in Virginia, we had to refuse to open the bottles, which just makes us look like money-grubbing jerks.

Even though we explained that Virginia law forbids bring-your-own, we still look like jerks. Although the customer was a pretty good sport, I could tell that he was hurt. Here are my shackles, straight from the Code of Virginia:

§ 4.1-315. Possession without license to sell alcoholic beverages upon premises of restaurant; exceptions; penalty.

A. No alcoholic beverages shall be kept or allowed to be kept upon any premises or upon the person of any proprietor or person employed upon the premises of a restaurant or other place where food or refreshments of any kind are furnished for compensation, except such alcoholic beverages as such person owning or operating such place of business is licensed to purchase and to sell at such place of business.

Rather wordy, and by the time that you decipher from the rest of the Code who you're licensed to buy from and what you're licensed to sell, the bottom line is if you didn't purchase from the Commonwealth or from a licensed wholesaler, you can't even have it on premises, let alone serve it.

The obvious fallout from this is that for a special occasion for one of my customers, let's say a tenth wedding anniversary, the customer wants to bring in the bottle of wine that he purchased during his honeymoon for this very occasion, I am forced to be the jerk and refuse to allow the wine on premises. And while I'm not a big fan of customers bringing their own wine to my restaurant, this is another case in which I would very dearly love to make an exception.

The less obvious fallout is that I can't build a decent wine list of old vintages. The major wine destination restaurants not located in Virginia are largely free to bid on older wines at auction and build their cellars that way, or even more directly, by purchasing private cellars. How have restaurants in Virginia have accomplished this? Let's just say that it didn't happen legally. This is why you don't see any old Bordeaux on my list.

This situation is not likely to change. The major vested parties—the Commonwealth, the wholesalers, and restaurants—are just that, they're vested in the system. The Commonwealth wants its guaranteed tax revenue, the wholesalers want to keep restaurants purchasing only from them, and the restaurants largely want to sell wine, not let people bring in their own.

I'd love to be able to say yes more often to my customers, but instead, I come off as the bad guy. I just hope that through posting this, more people recognize that my hands are tied legally.

Wednesday, February 25, 2009

Photo Caption Contest

This evening a customer (unknown to me, please identify yourself) sent this dish back to the kitchen with the message, "For the blog." This is clearly the detritus from a couple of Hawaiian Blue Prawns that we served with Hebi (Shortbill Spearfish) and Seaweed, Edamame, and Pickled Ginger Salad.

I've named these guys Fred and George after the Weasley twins. Clearly something has clearly gone wrong with one of their pranks—their midsections are missing.

I have a $25 gift certificate for the person who comes up with the best caption for this photo. Decision is mine alone and I will decide on March 1, 2009. Post your caption as a comment or email it to me and I will do it. Make sure you identify yourself so that I can notify you if you win. Have at it!

King Cake

Yesterday marked our 7th annual Mardi Gras celebration and for that menu, I made dozens of individual King Cakes, shown to the right. More on the unorthodox shape later.

I first encountered King Cakes in patisseries in France where they are called Galettes des Rois, Tarts of the Kings, the kings being the Magi, the three kings whose visited the baby Jesus. Historians think that such cakes predate Christianity and that the Catholic church imposed the current interpretation on an existing cake and pagan ritual. In France as here in the US, King Cakes are available at most patisseries after Twelfth Night (January 5th, so from the 6th of January) and up to Mardi Gras (variable date).

The French galettes are square tarts of puff pastry stuffed with almond paste and they are incredibly good. King Cakes migrated to North America with French settlers and arrived in New Orleans with the displaced Acadians and have become an intrinsic part of the Mardi Gras celebration, although here, many King Cakes are incredibly bad.

Here in the US, King Cakes have morphed entirely away from the French galette prototype. Our King Cake is a ring-shaped yeast bread of brioche seasoned with cinnamon, nutmeg, and lemon, similar in flavor to a cinnamon roll. The large ring may be rolled and filled like a cinnamon roll, folded into a tube encasing a filling, or merely twisted. King Cakes are typically frosted with a powdered sugar glaze and topped with purple, green, and gold sugar, representing justice, faith, and power.

King Cakes, no matter the country, are known for the "baby" baked inside, an object that in the Christian tradition represents the baby Jesus. He who finds it is typically responsible for supplying the cake the next year or at the next party. In France, this baby is called a fève, literally a fava bean, because a fava bean was the traditional baby. More recently, a whole almond or pecan has replaced the fava bean. Here in the US, we tend to use plastic baby figurines. Plastic has largely replaced the ceramic figurines of decades gone by. I use a whole almond in my cakes.

I prefer my King Cakes to be rolled with a filling, just like a cinnamon roll, so that you get some filling with each bite. At home, I would bake the cake in the traditional ring, but for restaurant service, I slice the cakes into individual servings before baking. This exposes the rings which lets me soak the cakes with cinnamon and lemon syrup after they're baked for that extra bit of goodness. It also ensures that each cake gets a good layer of glaze and colored sugar. It's just a little bit nicer presentation. And yes, my King Cakes are the best of all of them that I have tasted in the US! Those are fighting words in some quarters. ;)

Tuesday, February 24, 2009

Vaut le Déplacement

A customer whose visits from Leesburg require a 40- to 45-minute drive paid me a great compliment last weekend when she said to me, "C'est vaut le déplacement." The literal translation is that it is worth the trip or drive, worth going out of one's way. It's the unspoken part of this comment, however, in which the great compliment lies. This phrase alludes to the famous Guide Michelin which rates restaurants on how worthy they are of going out of one's way to dine. And for the compliment, I thank her.

More and more of our customers come out of their way to dine with us. When we do a scatter plot of telephone area codes of our reservation book, we see naturally that our highest traffic is from the local area code. The other large concentrations of customers come in descending order from Northern Virginia, the DC metro area, Baltimore, Pittsburgh, Richmond, Harrisburg, and Philadelphia. I want to thank all these people for going a long way out of their way to dine with us; a lot of them are driving 2 and 3 hours to get here.

We'll do all we can to keep it worth going out of your way.

Monday, February 23, 2009

An Eclectic Menu

On Saturday night, we did another of my tasting menus to celebrate a 60th birthday. I really enjoyed creating and executing this menu. Unlike some menus, it came together in about five minutes and I was off to the races. The customers requested something Moroccan and something Indian, which helped guide a couple of the choices. This post is not going to be short. I am trying to record some of my thoughts here for my own reference in the future. I think my cooking is getting much more refined, a bit more cerebral, and hopefully, more playful too.

Pennsylvania Dutch Dried Corn and Virginia Slab Bacon Soup. I've been playing with textures in food a lot more in the last six months or so and I wanted this dish to be a play on the textures of corn. Cope's Dried Sweet Corn is a product of nearby Lancaster County, PA and something that I have been experimenting with of late. It is sweet corn that is picked while still young and tender and then dried. The interesting thing about it is that it is equally good reconstituted or dried.

I wanted this dish to set the tone for the evening: at once comforting, playful, thought provoking, and interactive. The soup is classic Southern "fried corn" in flavor, comfort food par excellence. Fried corn in my family is when you render several strips of bacon and then slice fresh sweet corn into the bacon fat and cook it until it thickens, like creamed corn.

I laid out the garnishes along the plate, from the cup to the edge of the plate—smoked duck, chives, dried corn, duck cracklings (duck skin and fat rendered to crispy, crunchy awesomeness). Rather than garnish the soup directly myself, I left that to my guests for two reasons. First, there is no way to manipulate the garnishes without using your fingers. I wanted my guests to interact with the food, which should have a tactile component as well as the more usual components. I hoped that using their fingers would set the customers at ease and set the tone that while the food is serious, it should be seriously fun. And second, I hoped that the customers would experiment with the different flavor combinations and textures. And they did. The cracklings were a huge hit.

I paired this with a Virginia Viognier, an excellent pairing. I'm going to say this again for everyone to hear: we make the best Viognier in the world here in Virginia.

Crispy Fried Oyster. This dish is a play on the oyster theme, combining salsify (also called Oyster Plant) and oysters. I wanted to see if pairing them would be harmonious and more than the sum of their individual contributions. I poached the salsify and then set it in an aspic of Sauvignon Blanc and oyster liquor. You can see the salsify terrine better by following the salsify link just above.

I topped the terrine with a large fried oyster and a touch of micro-celery for flavor contrast. I set up a deliberate temperature contrast between the hot oyster and the cold terrine. The pairing went well enough, especially when served with a glass of the same Sauvignon Blanc as in the gelée, but I don't think it was memorable enough to repeat. The effect was kind of white-on-white, technically interesting, visually appealing, and tasty enough, but perhaps too subtle.

Huevos Rancheros. This is a dish that I really liked on a lot of levels. Huevos Rancheros is a dish that many of us know and love: a fried egg and salsa on top of tortillas. I really like to reimagine classic dishes with the same classic flavors, but with different forms and textures. Sometimes I want you to really think about what you're eating and what role flavor, temperature, and texture play in your perception of a dish.

The first thing I thought about was the tortilla. Gringos have a predominant preference for wheat flour tortillas rather than the classic corn masa tortillas that the dish is usually served on. I decided to play on this by using the form of wheat that we most often treat as corn: semolina. What do we mostly do with semolina, if we're not making pasta? Boil it up into a mush like polenta—think gnocchi di semolina or Cream of Wheat, which if thick enough resembles masa. And the pasta yellow color doesn't hurt in the trompe l'oeil effect either. So, I cooked the semolina fairly thick, spread it in a thin layer, let it set up, cut rounds out, and toasted them in a dry pan just like cooking tortillas on a comal.

Next: the egg. The small size of the dish required a quail egg, which I decided to poach rather than fry. I'm not a fan of crispy edges on eggs (maybe you are, but my mother made me eat them every day for years and now that I'm an adult, I will be damned if I eat another or inflict them on my customers. Mom, I love you, but no more eggs!).

Once I had the poached quail egg in mind, the thought of that runny, thinly encapsulated yolk got me thinking that I should mimic it with the salsa. So into the blender and a bit of reverse spherification magic and voilà, spherical salsa marinated in chorizo oil. I had to use just a touch of xanthan gum on the salsa to get it to mimic the texture of the egg yolk; it was just a wee bit too watery otherwise. A bit of rendered chorizo and a splash of pimentón sauce completes the dish.

The only thing that bothers me about this dish is the olive color of the salsa. In blending the salsa, the green cilantro, green onion, and green chile mixed with the red tomato to make a nice ripe olive color. But the cilantro and chile were critical to the flavor. Maybe I can figure out how to extract the cilantro and chile flavors some day and end up with a tomato-colored salsa.

Note to those who would follow after me: you must reduce the quantity of onion significantly. My first attempt was a standard salsa whose flavor when blended was dominated by onion to the point where it became inedible. Crushing the onion in the blender turns it into a beast. Use 75% less onion than you would for a standard chopped salsa and lay way off the garlic.

I paired this with a light Sicilian Sangiovese.

Deconstruction of Bestilla. I just happened to see Mario do a version of bestilla on Iron Chef last weekend and I was thinking as I was watching that I could do it better. And when my customer asked for a Moroccan dish in the tasting, I had my chance.

Let me apologize for the crappy photo. Things were mightily hectic on the line when I took this and I got bumped every time that I took a picture. This is the only one that is halfway acceptable; none of the good low-angle shots came out. You try handholding a camera with a macro lens, flash off, stopped way down because of crappy lighting, on a screamingly busy restaurant line and see what your results are!

I wanted to play with people's notions of what constitutes a sweet course and what constitutes a savory course and Arab-inspired cuisine is wonderful at blending savory and sweet.

There is nothing unusual in the traditional chicken (I just couldn't get pigeons for this tasting) tagine that serves as the basis for my bestilla. But, rather than encasing the traditional filling in pastry, I decided to do a napoleon of layers of pastry and fillings. This would emphasize the crackle and crunch of the pastry that would otherwise be dulled by the steam from the filling.

In making the pastry, I layered pastry sheets with cinnamon and sugar and cooked them in the oven to the point of dark caramelization to give a bitterness to play against the sweetness of the chicken. I am already wondering what effect cocoa powder between the pastry layers would have. I sprinkled the pastry liberally with cinnamon and powdered sugar before assembling the napoleon.

The bottom layer of the napoleon is spinach sautéed with golden raisins, almonds, and red onions that were marinated in vinegar and sugar. The center layer is the traditional pulled chicken. The top is finished with the highly reduced sauce bound with eggs. I wanted a custardy effect rather than a scrambled egg effect so the eggs were whisked rapidly in the manner of classic oeufs brouillés.

I set a fruity Marlborough Pinot Noir against all the spices and flavors and it worked quite well.

Punjabi Lamb Kebab. There is nothing new or creative in this dish; it is quite simply classic Punjabi cuisine in the miniature. I marinated some shoulder of local lamb in my special lamb masala, garlic, ginger, and yoghurt for 24 hours, then grilled it. Lacking a tandoor, I grilled the miniature naan. The garnishes—raita, dhania chatni (cilantro/coriander chutney), and dal makhani (urad dal with grated tomatoes and special saunf masala)—are all typical. Nothing novel here, just solid good eats.

I chose a big Nero d’Avola from Sicily to stand up to the big flavors in this dish.

Hibiscus Crème Caramel. Sometimes I think that pastry chefs get carried away and lose sight of the tried and true desserts such as crème caramel whose silky custard is such a classic comfort food.

I brewed a tea of hibiscus flowers and loose black (Keemun Panda) tea with some dried cranberries to amplify the red color. Then I added sugar and cooked the tea into a syrup which you see garnishing the plate. The cream base, I steeped with more hibiscus flowers, and the baked custard, I topped with a candied hibiscus flower.

This was paired with a gorgeous pink Crémant d’Alsace, whose color echoed the hibiscus and whose strawberry, cranberry, and rhubarb flavors meshed elegantly with the matching hibiscus flavors—a perfect pairing in my book.

Seven Textures of Chocolate. And now just after I said that sometimes pastry chefs get carried away, here I go getting carried away on a chocolate fantasy. You should know that I am not motivated in the least by chocolate and pastry is not my thing, although I have a pretty deft hand at it. By choice, I don't eat sweets, so it is profoundly strange that I should labor so much over a single sweet composition, which you see here at low-angle running down the plating table.

You can see from left to right a three-chocolate mousse, three different chocolate bonbons, a streak of ganache paint, a straw of tempered dark chocolate resting on a cube of my sinfully rich and decadent Bête Noir, a quenelle of my quick fudge, and finally, an espresso cup of banging Mexican hot chocolate. I included the hot chocolate to help tease the chocolate-jaded palate back to life with a big hit of pasilla chile.

Can I just say in passing that I hate working with white chocolate? My hat is off to those of you who have the patience to work with it.

I paired this with a straightforward ruby Port, but a delicious local raspberry Merlot or a huge Amarone would have worked equally well, if not better.

Sunday, February 22, 2009

Salsify

Late each fall as salsify comes into its winter season, we feature it on our menu for variety. We use Black Salsify (Scorzonera hispanica), also known as Scorzonera, Oyster Plant, or Spanish Salsify. There is also a White Salsify (Tragopogon porrifolius) that you can use in the same manner. The edible part of the Black Salsify is the long, slender stick-like taproot, about 14 to 16 inches long and no more than an inch in diameter, probably averaging three-quarters of an inch. In this photo you see several unpeeled roots along with a peeled root. White Salsify has a root that looks more like a white carrot or a malnourished parsnip.

The roots are generally filthy, so a good scrubbing is in order. Then you must peel the black skin away to reveal the cream-colored interior. Immediately upon peeling, you must place the salsify in acidulated water (squeeze in a half a lemon) to prevent discoloration. I always squeeze the other half of the lemon into the cooking water as well, if I am going to boil the salsify. Some people do cook the salsify root skin on and then peel it, mainly to avoid getting the really sticky sap on their hands. I prefer to peel it raw.

Use as you would any other root vegetable: roasted, scalloped, in soup, as a cream soup, boiled and mashed, boiled and buttered, fried, etc. At the restaurant, we typically cut the root into 3-inch (8 cm) lengths, boil it to tender (about 10 minutes), and then reheat it with double cream just before service. But of late, I have been experimenting with different uses for salsify, including this round terrine set in a Sauvignon Blanc and oyster liquor aspic. This was the base for a fried oyster in a recent Chef's Tasting.

It has a mild flavor that some say reminds them of oysters, hence the common name Oyster Plant. I haven’t had much luck in detecting any oyster flavor in Scorzonera, sadly. But it's relatively low in calories and high in fiber, so as long as you don't drench it in calories, it's a good eat.

Saturday, February 21, 2009

A Quail and a Duck

A humorous thing happened tonight and happily for us, the customers involved saw the humor and were not upset.

The menu contained a bird duo of grilled quail and smoked duck. It also contained a roasted breast of Moulard duck. Said customer to the server, "We'll have the quail and duck." And it being a night of several tables ordering a single entrée and sharing it, the server put in the order for the bird duo. And when it arrived at the table, the customer wanted to know where the duck entrée was.

Now I should be upset that the server did not clarify the order with the customer before putting it into the kitchen, but I'm just not in the mood for that. Rather, I find myself chuckling about it (and relieved that the customers were good sports).

A Fantasy in Chocolate

Here's a photo of the dish entitled "Seven Textures of Chocolate" from tonight's tasting. More on the tasting tomorrow; I'm exhausted tonight.

Is Spring Here?

I'm rushing, rushing today trying to get ready for one of our big tasting menus tonight. After four solid hours in the kitchen, I need to take a breather before the lunch rush starts (and it's imminent). Look what I found at the market this morning—the first arugula of the season!

As Beth said to me as I was bagging this up this morning, "Isn't it wonderful to see something green again?" Yes it is!

Is it spring yet? Snow is forecast yet again tonight, but the Chickadees were busy calling and setting up turf this morning both at home and at the market. Spring sure could be on the way!

Off to cook lunch! Wish me luck with the tasting tonight.

Thursday, February 19, 2009

Black Pepper


This post is for Keith, whose inquiring mind wants to know about the various forms of black pepper (Piper nigrum). You can see the four forms in this bowl of mixed pepper that we put in our tabletop pepper grinders: black, white, green, and pink.

The black pepper vine, native to south India, produces very thinly fleshed, tiny fruits that are deep red when ripe. The pepper that we know as black pepper comes from the green unripe fruits, which are cooked for a short time in hot water. As the fruits dry, enzymatic action browns the fruit and it shrivels around the seed, producing the familiar black peppercorn.

If the fruit is soaked in water for a longer period, the flesh comes away and after further processing to remove all the flesh, only the seed is left. Some manufacturers also use mechanical processes to strip the flesh from the seeds. The seed is greyish in color and is known as a white peppercorn.

Green peppercorns are dried unripe fruits. To preserve their color, they are freeze-dried or treated with sulfur dioxide. Pink/red peppercorns are the ripe fruit treated in the same manner. Green and pink/red peppercorns are also pickled.

There are also unrelated plants from South America that produce bright red berries that are similarly spicy and are sometimes called pink pepper.

Wednesday, February 18, 2009

Mardi Gras Dinner

We're offering a 4-course prix fixe dinner celebrating Mardi Gras on Tuesday, February 24. We'll offer both the $37.50 prix fixe dinner and our normal à la carte menu. The Mardi Gras menu is:

Duck and Andouille Gumbo
Shrimp Rémoulade
Grillades and Grits
King Cake

Come join us! Reservations: 540-662-1455 or on-line.

Tuesday, February 17, 2009

Burning Questions: Vegetables and Grains

This whole series of "Burning Questions" posts originated as a somewhat amusing troll through the One Block West Restaurant web site server logs, to see what search phrases were bringing people to the web site. As I went through the logs, the search topics seemed to fall into several broad categories, each dealt with in a separate post in this series. This post deals with vegetables and grains.

Parsnip Tastes Like. Parsnips taste a bit like the green tops of carrots smell when you bruise them. They're sweet like carrots with a bit of an herbal edge to them. I love them.

Cooking Filet Beans/Cooking Fin de Bagnols Beans. You can cook the little filet beans any way that you would cook the larger green beans: steam, fry, tempura, roast, boil, stir fry, etc. Try tossing them with a little extra virgin olive oil, salt, pepper, and garlic and roasting them in a very hot oven, turning every five minutes for fifteen minutes until they become brown and wrinkled.

Difference between Poblano and Piquillo. A Poblano is a large, dark black-green, triangular fresh pepper. A Piquillo is a small red triangular pepper that you will only find canned or jarred here in the US. Both are mild and have excellent flavor. See also my Chile Primer.

Torpedo Onion Difference between Shallot. The torpedo onions that I am familiar with are red onions that take shape of an elongated football. The ones that I get from the farmers market are about 4 inches long and about an inch and a half in diameter, but I've seen much, much larger ones from the produce company. Torpedo onions are very mild and work great for raw applications. Some shallots are light purple like torpedo onions while others are yellow and some are white. While torpedo onions have a mild onion flavor, shallots have a different flavor, a delicately garlic flavor. For torpedo onions, substitute any red onion. For shallots, nothing else will do. See also the Cook's Thesaurus onion page.

Best Rice for Paella. Paella rice is a medium-grained rice that separates well when cooked and does not release as much starch as risotto rice. From Calasparra in the Murcia region of Spain, these rices were at one point almost extinct. Bomba is the premium variety. Anything labelled simply Calasparra is likely to be the Sollana variety. All the paella rices produce a very dry grain at harvest, allowing them to absorb a lot more liquid than most rice. You can substitute Arborio or other risotto rice for paella rice in a pinch. See also my rice primer.

Thursday, February 12, 2009

Cooking with Gas

I am a great reader and collector of old cookbooks. Recently, a friend dropped by two bound volumes of a Parisian cooking journal, what passed for a magazine in those days, one from 1900 and the other from 1901.

I didn't have a whole lot of time to start reading, but I did leaf through them a bit and after getting through a few months of journals, something struck me. Each month, there was a column entitled Cuisine au Gaz or Cooking with Gas in English.

It's very hard to remember in this day and age that cooking with natural gas (or more likely methane?) was a new technology in the Paris of 1900. Think about that next time you turn on the stove!

Monday, February 9, 2009

Capers and Caperberries

Yesterday we put on a 5-course Sicilian-themed dinner for the local Accademia Italia della Cucina chapter. The pasta course was my so-called Ed's pasta, one that I make with browned garlic, anchovies, capers, artichokes, tomatoes, basil, and white wine. For yesterday's version, I substituted caperberries for capers and used half sun-dried tomatoes for more texture.

As I was visiting tables during the course of the dinner, several people asked me about the caperberries and what they are. Before I delve into that, this photo shows the three forms that we use here at the restaurant. On the left are the teardrop-shaped caperberries and on the right in the back are large salted capers. In the right front are small pickled nonpareil capers. Nonpareil means "without peer or equal" in French and refers to the highest grade of capers. Click on the photo to see these in more detail.

The caper bush (Capparis spinosa) is a perennial Mediterranean spine-bearing shrub. It reminds me somewhat of our native honeysuckles (Lonicera spp.) in habit and structure, but the four-petalled white blooms sport a profusion of very long pink or purple stamens that remind me of Spider plant (Cleome spp.).

The buds of this shrub are picked before they open and are salted or pickled to produce what we know as capers. If the plant blooms and sets fruit and this fruit is picked green and then pickled, the result is caperberries. If you slice open a caperberry, you'll see a profusion of tan seeds that are reminiscent of mustard seeds. The seeds darken as the fruit ripens and as the fruit ripens, it takes on the hues of ripe figs.

Caperberries taste very similar to capers. The texture is different, of course.

Capers are probably a signature ingredient for me. I eat them often because I love them so and my wife claims that I don't make anything "without those damned capers" that she does not like. I use the large salted capers for seasoning long-cooked dishes such as caponata. I use nonpareil capers mainly for pastas, but also as garnishes on dishes. Caperberries come into play in pastas, as garnishes such as for my terrines in place of cornichons, and as martini garnishes.

And now you know probably more than you wanted to know about capers.

Burning Questions: Meat

This whole series of "Burning Questions" posts originated as a somewhat amusing troll through the One Block West Restaurant web site server logs, to see what search phrases were bringing people to the web site. As I went through the logs, the search topics seemed to fall into several broad categories, each dealt with in a separate post in this series. This post deals with meats.

How to Cook Surry Sausage/What is Surry Sausage. First things first. Surry Sausage is a smoked pork sausage from Surry, Virginia-based S. Wallace Edwards & Sons. It's formed into small links and has a remarkable smoky flavor that some people mistake for country ham. Follow the link above for purchase and background information on this one of a kind sausage.

Cooking Surry Sausage is not much different from other smoked pork sausages. We dice it and add it to sautées; we grill it and slice it for appetizers and our popular Surry Sausage lunch salad. You should make sure that you cook the sausage to 165F/75C.

Non-Pork Substitute for Prosciutto. For those of you who cannot eat pork, I suggest that you use a similarly cured beef called Bresaola. A similar Swiss product is called Bünderfleisch. You may also see it labeled as beef prosciutto.

Andouille Sausage Substitute. Andouille as we think of it here in the US is a firm sausage stuffed with chunks of pork shoulder and seasoned with a good helping of cayenne pepper. You could substitute tasso or a firm city ham such as Hormel Cure 81 and some cayenne. Tasso or ham would have the closest texture to andouille. Or you could substitute another smoked pork sausage such as kielbasa and some cayenne. Kielbasa's texture will be wrong because it is made from a ground forcemeat. Me, I'd just go to Comeaux's web site and order the real andouille. I've been buying from Ray Comeaux since the early 1990's. The photo shows a link of Comeaux's andouille (top) and two links of Edwards' Surry Sausage (bottom).

Tasso vs Andouille. They're similar in flavor and yet they're dissimilar in appearance. Andouille is a sausage described just above. Tasso is made from pork shoulder too, only it is made from cross-grain chunks of shoulder that have been lightly cured, spiced, and smoked. Tasso will be a bit leaner than andouille, but they have the same basic flavor. For diced meat to add flavor to a jambalaya or gumbo, I use them interchangeably. If I want those nice andouille rounds, nothing else will do.

Spanish Word for Sausages. That would be chorizo, although specific sausages have their own names. There are basically two types of chorizo with which I am familiar: Spanish and Mexican. Spanish chorizo are small, firm (like pepperoni), cured sausages seasoned primarily with pimentón. Mexican chorizo, the kind I feasted on when I lived in Texas, tends to be a loose, fresh sausage seasoned with mild chile powder and a fair amount of vinegar. I have also seen it stuffed into casings.

What is Paleron? Funny you should ask, it's my favorite cut of beef and I wrote extensively on it in another post.

Sunday, February 8, 2009

Burning Questions: Wine and Beverages

This whole series of "Burning Questions" posts originated as a somewhat amusing troll through the One Block West Restaurant web site server logs, to see what search phrases were bringing people to the web site. As I went through the logs, the search topics seemed to fall into several broad categories, each dealt with in a separate post in this series. This post deals with beverages.

4 Areas Scotch is Made from. See any of the maps on the web. The four basic areas are Highlands (including Speyside), Lowlands, Campbeltown, and Islay. There are also distilleries in the northwestern islands grouped unofficially under the moniker Islands; these include Jura, Mull, Arran, Skye, and Orkney.

Bring Wine/Take Wine to Restaurant in Virginia. I'll let Virginia ABC answer this one:
BYOW (Bring your own wine) is illegal in Virginia. Patrons are not allowed to bring bottles of wine into licensed establishments. (§ 4.1-324, 325 and 225). However, if you are unable to finish a purchased bottle of wine at a restaurant, they may cork the unfinished bottle for you to take home (3 VAC 5 40 30 B).

Which Red Wine Grape is Used to Make Champagne. Two actually: Pinot Noir and Pinot Meunier.

Saturday, February 7, 2009

"Cannoli" of Pecorino Romano

I had a couple of spare minutes this afternoon in the kitchen and was playing around with my camera. I ended up liking the composition of this photo of "cannoli" of Pecorino Romano waiting to go out on plates tonight.

Burning Questions: Fish and Shellfish

This whole series of "Burning Questions" posts originated as a somewhat amusing troll through the One Block West Restaurant web site server logs, to see what search phrases were bringing people to the web site. As I went through the logs, the search topics seemed to fall into several broad categories, each dealt with in a separate post in this series. This post deals with fish and shellfish.

What is Set of Shad Roe? The roe (eggs) from the Shad comes in twin lobes called a set. For more, see my post on Shad Roe.

Eating Shad Roe Sashimi Style. You can, but it's not what I would recommend. Shad roe's texture is very soft and less flavorful when raw. I like to roast my roe to medium rare in the oven.

Are Cobia and Wahoo Lean Fish? Yes, Cobia and Wahoo are fairly lean fish, though Cobia can be a little fatter than Wahoo. Because they are so lean, you must take care not to overcook them and they are both best served about medium, still a bit uncooked in the center. Both are typically steakfish, that is they are cut into steaks rather than filets, and both are excellent on the grill.

How Long to Grill Wahoo Steaks/Grilling Wahoo Steaks Wahoo, like almost all steakfish (tuna, marlin, swordfish, cobia, etc.), take extremely well to the grill. They're also very lean fish and do not want to be overcooked. As a very rough rule, fish take about 10 minutes per inch (2.5cm) of thickness to become cooked all the way through. With steakfish, you want them still translucent in the center, so cook them less. I mark steakfish on one side until I see the sides of the steak become opaque, then I flip them and finish them for another couple of minutes. Remember less is more with steakfish and you can always put them back on the grill.

Corvina Same as Grouper. Corvina and Grouper, which is itself a pretty large family of related species, are somewhat closely related but they are not the same. For cooking purposes however, you may treat them identically.

Substitute for Corvina. Corvina is a mild, white, firm fish with small flakes in the Drum family. I serve it at the restaurant in preference to the similar Grouper which is overfished. Any of the larger drums would be fine substitutes: Black Drum, Red Drum, etc. as well as all of the groupers. Striped Bass which we call Rockfish is also a great substitute.

Can You Substitute Clam Juice for Oyster Sauce? Not exactly. Oyster sauce is a thick soy-based sauce. Clam juice is a thin stock akin to fish fumet or fish stock. I'm not sure why you would need to substitute for oyster sauce because it seems to be stocked in most groceries. You could thicken soy sauce with a little corn starch or substitute some other kind of soy product such as bean paste.

Fish Stock Substitute. Easy. Bottled clam juice or steam some mussels and save the liquid.

Friday, February 6, 2009

Shad Roe is Here

I wrote last year that I hadn't seen shad roe any earlier than the 12th, yet I had them arrive on the 5th this year in 15F weather, no less! Six sets for your degustatory pleasure; call to reserve yours now. 540-662-1455.

Burning Questions: Kitchen Basics

This whole series of "Burning Questions" posts originated as a somewhat amusing troll through the One Block West Restaurant web site server logs, to see what search phrases were bringing people to the web site. As I went through the logs, the search topics seemed to fall into several broad categories, each dealt with in a separate post in this series. This post deals with kitchen basics.

What is Meant by Deglaze Meat/Deglazing the Pan? When you cook things, especially meat, in a fat over fairly high heat, some of the sugars and juices form a caramel (called the fond in the trade) or glaze on the bottom of the pan. Deglazing is the process of adding liquid to the pan to dissolve the fond, which is helped by scraping with a spatula or other utensil. Pans are often deglazed with some kind of alcohol (wine or Cognac, for example) or some kind of stock. Even plain water will do. The goal of deglazing is to get all the yummy goodness from the bottom of the pan into the sauce for the dish. This is why you won't see too many professionals using non-stick pans. We want things to stick.

Decanting Clarified Butter. There are many ways to separate the clarified butter from the milk solids and whey. Once we melt the butter, we pour it into a tall narrow container and leave a large spoon in it. Then we refrigerate it until the clarified butter is solid. Using the spoon as a handle, we pull the solid clarified butter off the top of the whey and milk solids. We then dispose of the waste and melt the clarified butter for use on the line.

How to Quickly Peel an Orange. How convenient that I've already written a photo essay on just this.

Can We Use Olive Oil for Saute? Yes, you can; we do. There are two rough classes of olive oil, refined (called pure) and unrefined (called extra virgin). Extra virgin is the first pressing of the olives and whether or not it is filtered, it will contain some olive solids. These solids burn at a fairly low temperature, so extra virgin is not recommended for sautéeing. We use grapeseed, pure olive oil, canola, or some mixture of these in the restaurant, depending on price.

What Does Braise Mean? Braising is a key cooking technique that is near and dear to my heart. Our daily menu generally features at least one braise. To braise is first to sear over high heat and then to cook in liquid very, very slowly in a covered pan. Ossobuco, for example, is traditionally prepared by braising. First, the meat is browned over high flame and removed from the pan, then vegetables are added to the pan and cooked, then the meat is replaced and an acidic liquid such as wine (or wine and stock) is added. The pan is covered and cooked in a very slow oven until the meat is about to fall apart. The slow cooking in moist heat with an acidic liquid helps break down the collagens in the meat, rendering tough cuts of meat fork tender and thickening the sauce.

How Do You Make a Pastry Bag from Common Things You Have at Home? If you've ever catered, you've been to some gig and forgotten the pastry bag. So you grab a plastic bag, cut off a corner, jam a pastry tube in (if you have one), tape the tube in with duct tape if the plastic bag is weak, and go to town. I always keep spare pastry bags, tubes, duct tape, and plastic bags in my toolbox that I take on the road.

What Kind of Oil to Use When Grilling Vegetables? We always keep a vat of our sauté oil next to our grill. When prepping herbs, we toss the scraps in the oil to flavor it. We brush the grill and vegetables with this oil, which is pure olive oil, canola, grapeseed, or some mixture of these. We don't use expensive extra virgin on the grill; that's just a waste of money. We will drizzle the grilled vegetables with it afterwards for flavor, however.

What Kind of Vinegar for Canning? I use distilled white vinegar for canning. Most syrups are so strongly flavored that using a more expensive vinegar is a waste of money: the spices will overwhelm the delicate flavor of the vinegar.

Thursday, February 5, 2009

Act Like You Meant to Do It

Monday night, we taped a couple more cooking shows for WVPT in Harrisonburg. In the first 20-minute segment, I demonstrated a little Nueva Cocina Cubana with my version of Camarones con Mojo.

This dish has a moderately sophisticated presentation with an absolutely smooth black bean soup in the well of a very large soup plate, a tostón (plantain fritter) in the center of that, with a persimmon (for want of decent mangoes right now) salsa on the tostón, surrounded by three shrimp that had been marinated in mojo (a sour orange, garlic, and oregano marinade), with a little mojo drizzled over the top.

I had intended to perhaps dot the black bean soup with a little thinned out sour cream, but the host of the show in placing the salsa on top of the tostón let a single piece of persimmon fall into the soup. She worried on camera that she had ruined the presentation. Nonsense. I got a few more pieces of persimmon and strew them about the soup and said, "Always act like you meant to do it!"

Everybody, lighten up in the kitchen. It's just food. If it doesn't go exactly as you planned, act like it did and laugh about it.

For those of you looking for a recipe, it is included in my new cookbook due out in just a very few short weeks.

Wednesday, February 4, 2009

Burning Questions: Substitutes

This whole series of "Burning Questions" posts originated as a somewhat amusing troll through the One Block West Restaurant web site server logs, to see what search phrases were bringing people to the web site. As I went through the logs, the search topics seemed to fall into several broad categories, each dealt with in a separate post in this series. This post deals with substituting one ingredient for another.

Demi-Glace Substitute. Demi-glace is highly reduced stock, so you can substitute stock for it, but you're going to have to reduce the stock to thicken it. It's probably best to make a big pot of stock one weekend and reduce it to about a fourth of its volume, then freeze it in ice cube trays. You can put the frozen cubes in a seal-top bag in the freezer and have them at your disposal at any time. No need to thaw them, just drop the frozen cubes directly into the pan. You could thicken stock with a starch such as corn, potato, or arrowroot, but you're not going to get the depth of flavor that demi-glace brings to the table.

Andouille Sausage Substitute. Andouille as we think of it here in the US is a firm sausage stuffed with chunks of pork shoulder and seasoned with a good helping of cayenne pepper. You could substitute tasso or a firm city ham such as Hormel Cure 81 and some cayenne. Tasso or ham would have the closest texture to andouille. Or you could substitute another smoked pork sausage such as kielbasa and some cayenne. Kielbasa's texture will be wrong because it is made from a ground forcemeat. Me, I'd just go to Comeaux's web site and order the real andouille. I've been buying from Ray Comeaux since the early 1990's.

Can You Substitute Clam Juice for Oyster Sauce? Not exactly. Oyster sauce is a thick soy-based sauce. Clam juice is a thin stock akin to fish fumet or fish stock. I'm not sure why you would need to substitute for oyster sauce because it seems to be stocked in most groceries. You could thicken soy sauce with a little corn starch or substitute some other kind of soy product such as bean paste.

Fish Stock Substitute. Easy. Bottled clam juice or steam some mussels and save the liquid.

Can I Use Long Grain White Rice in a Risotto? No, I wouldn't recommend substituting long-grain rice for one of the Italian short-grain rices in risotto. You're going to end up with a soggy, non-creamy mess.

Differences Between Italian Parsley and Cilantro. Visually, you can see that cilantro on the left has rounder lobes than Italian parsley on the right with its more pointed lobes. Generally, you cannot substitute one for the other: they have vastly different flavors, but you should never need to because they're both available in most grocery stores. If you are confused about them at the market, crush a leaf of each and smell them.

Replacement/Substitute for Pasilla. If I don't have pasillas in the pantry, I would use guajillos. The important thing to remember is that the pasilla is a fairly mild red chile, so you should substitute another mild red chile for it. You could use anchos, but they have a much deeper, richer, more chocolatey flavor. You might want to view my Chile Primer.

Substitute for Pimentón. Pimentón is a paprika from Spain made from peppers that have been dried over oak fires, giving the resulting product a truly smoky flavor. There is no good substitute for pimentón. You could use any paprika in a pinch, but the smoky component would be lacking.

Poblano Chile Substitute/Replacement. I use poblanos as tasty substitutes for Bell peppers in almost all cooked applications. I suppose you could go the other way and use Bell pepper, but Bell peppers are very vegetal where poblanos have a nice round chile flavor. For most applications, I would probably go with a mild green chile such as an Anaheim.

Red Yellow Onions Interchangeable. Yes they are in most applications, unless color is a factor in the dish.

Can You Use White Wine Vinegar Instead of Sherry Vinegar? Yes, but you will miss a bit of nuttiness in the sherry vinegar. Technically, sherry vinegar, like Champagne vinegar, like Chardonnay vinegar, is a white wine vinegar.

Substitute for Corvina. Corvina is a mild, white, firm fish with small flakes in the Drum family. I serve it at the restaurant in preference to the similar Grouper which is overfished. Any of the larger drums would be fine substitutes: Black Drum, Red Drum, etc. as well as all of the groupers. Striped Bass which we call Rockfish is also a great substitute.

Non-Pork Substitute for Prosciutto. For those of you who cannot eat pork, I suggest that you use a similarly cured beef called Bresaola. A similar Swiss product is called Bündnerfleisch. You may also see it labeled as beef prosciutto.

Tuesday, February 3, 2009

Burning Questions: Herbs

This whole series of "Burning Questions" posts originated as a somewhat amusing troll through the One Block West Restaurant web site server logs, to see what search phrases were bringing people to the web site. As I went through the logs, the search topics seemed to fall into several broad categories, each dealt with in a separate post in this series. This post deals with herbs.

Poultry Herbs. Each vendor has its own special mix, but each is almost certain to contain a lot of sage and thyme. Many contain some rosemary and marjoram. Me, I use what I have on hand.

Do You Use the [Basil] Stem When Making Pesto? Yes, I use the tender stems. No, I don't use the woody stems.

Can I Make Pesto with Vegetable Oil? Sure you can, but unless you have an olive allergy, why would you? Pesto is rightfully made with extra virgin olive oil and I think it is available at just about every store in the United States.

One Head of Dill Equals. The term head refers to one of the blooming umbels of the dill plant. At the early stages, it will have flowers. At the middle stages, it will have green seeds. At full maturity, it will have mature, brown dill seeds. Most recipes I've seen, when calling for a head of dill, mean an umbel with mature seeds. I'd say that's about quarter to a half a teaspoon of dill seeds.

Can I Mix Rosemary, Basil, and Sage? Why not? I do it all the time in my bouquets garnis for ossobuco.

Cilantro Direct Sun Heat. Cilantro loves direct sun and hates a lot of heat. Heat causes it to bolt, that is, to send up a bloom spike and go to seed. This means that you should plant it in the spring and fall. In the summer, you might be able to get away with it in a location which receives morning or afternoon sun, but is shaded during the hottest part of the day.

How to Plant Rosemary in Virginia. With a trowel! But seriously, get a cold-tolerant cultivar such as Arp from your garden center. Plant it in a warm, sunny location protected from northerly and westerly winds. In the fall, wrap it in straw and burlap and pray like hell. Or grow it as a potted plant and bring it in in the winter. I can never get it to grow indoors.

Stripping Thyme Leaves. Hold the base of the thyme branch between the thumb and forefinger of one hand and use the thumb and forefinger of the other hand to strip the leaves off towards the tip in a single motion. The stem may break near the tip where it is tender so you may want to mince the thyme with a knife.

Differences Between Italian Parsley and Cilantro. Visually, you can see that cilantro on the left has rounder lobes than Italian parsley on the right with its more pointed lobes. Generally, you cannot substitute one for the other: they have vastly different flavors, but you should never need to because they're both available in most grocery stores. If you are confused about them at the market, crush a leaf of each and smell them.

Burning Questions: January 2009

In reviewing the monthly statistics for my web site, I am always amazed at the search strings that have people ending up on my site. Here then are some of the burning questions that people are asking and hoping that the restaurant site might answer:

Andouille Sausage Substitute. Andouille as we think of it here in the US is a firm sausage stuffed with chunks of pork shoulder and seasoned with a good helping of cayenne pepper. You could substitute tasso or a firm city ham such as Hormel Cure 81 and some cayenne. Tasso or ham would have the closest texture to andouille. Or you could substitute another smoked pork sausage such as kielbasa and some cayenne. Kielbasa's texture will be wrong because it is made from a ground forcemeat. Me, I'd just go to Comeaux's web site and order the real andouille. I've been buying from Ray Comeaux since the early 1990's.

How to Make Balsamic Reduction. Put balsamic vinegar in a pan and reduce it until it is syrupy. Done.

Asparation/Broccolini Seeds. Some of you might recognize the name Asparation from the produce aisle at the grocery. It's also known as Broccolini. Unless you're a big grower willing to pay royalties to the patent holder, you should grow something else at home. Asparation/Broccolini seeds are not available to mere mortals. Can I recommend gai lan, Chinese broccoli? It's an excellent and easy-to-grow green.

Can You Substitute Clam Juice for Oyster Sauce? Not exactly. Oyster sauce is a thick soy-based sauce. Clam juice is a thin stock akin to fish fumet or fish stock. I'm not sure why you would need to substitute for oyster sauce because it seems to be stocked in most groceries. You could thicken soy sauce with a little corn starch or substitute some other kind of soy product such as bean paste.

Fish Stock Substitute. Easy. Bottled clam juice or steam some mussels and save the liquid.

Vegetable Lasagna with Poblano Chili. Now doesn't that sound good! I often do a flan of layered yellow potatoes and roasted and peeled poblanos, set in an herb-infused custard. I can see substituting layers of poblanos for noodles in a vegetarian lasagna and I'm sure that the result would be outstanding. I may just steal this for a vegetarian special.

Sunday, February 1, 2009

Super Bowl

I guess it's fitting for Super Bowl Sunday to show you a Super Bowl of food that we did for a Chef's Tasting last evening. I like the way that all the elements of this dish came together. This dish is atypical Ed in that it has a lot of ingredients, but they all work together in my mind. This dish is really a play on three kinds of duck: preserved legs (confit), rare breast (magret), and seared liver (foie gras).

Starting from the bottom of the bowl and working up, we have asparagus tips and then a cassoulet made from heirloom Steuben Yellow Eye beans, duck confit that I put up back in the summer, and Surry sausage.

On top of this is a fan of rare magret de canard, Moulard duck breast. And just between the duck breast and the slice of seared foie gras are slices of black truffles. Around the plate you see prunes that I poached in apple cider and Armagnac. The light jus is a reduction of the cider-Armagnac poaching liquid and fat from the foie gras.

Cards v. Steelers? I don't think I really care. But I'm still miffed that there were more Steelers fans than Skins fans at Fedex when I was there in October for Monday Night Football and that the Steelers mauled us, and I like the way Larry Fitzgerald is playing, so edge to the Cards. Go Cards, I think, yawn. Oops, I think I might have just irritated our big contingent of customers who come down on weekends from Pittsburgh. Sorry. Maybe, just maybe, our Philly contingent of customers will think better of me. So who do our Harrisburg customers support? Buffalo?!? Go Skins!