Roulade of Gravlax

Let's start off the new year with one of the dishes that we served as an appetizer on our New Year's Eve menu, a roulade of gravlax. I cured a side of salmon for many days in salt, sugar, and a lot of white pepper and then dried the salmon for several more days in the refrigerator to yield what I call prosciutto of salmon, for its ham-like consistency. You could substitute any kind of thinly sliced fish or even ham in this appetizer. This post is about the technique; I leave the flavorings up to you. The tiny leaves you see are micro-lemongrass, which echo the lemon zest in the cream cheese filling.

Start by laying out plastic film on your counter top. If you're using narrow film, you may want to overlap two pieces as I did. Lay out your fish in a large rectangle as you see here. In practice, it doesn't really matter how the pieces overlap each other. Patch any large holes with small bits of fish.

Make certain your filling is very soft, otherwise, you'll not be able to spread it on the fish without destroying your layout. This filling is softened cream cheese flavored with fresh dill, lemon zest, minced capers, and white pepper. I didn't add any salt because the ham-like salmon is really salty and the capers add enough salt to the filling. I've also used all manner of seafood mousses as fillings. Experiment and have fun.

Working very carefully, spread the filling over the fish. Take your time. I will be rolling this from the right edge to the left edge. Notice that I start the filling close to the right edge, but leave a large margin on the left side so that I have an extra flap of fish to help seal the roulade. Also leave a bit of margin on the two ends so that you don't push the filling out onto the counter as you roll the roulade.

Obligatory food porn shot number 1. Doesn't this look good? Notice how faded the salmon looks? That's because I salted it for so long; the longer the cure, the paler the fish in my experience. This fish was a fairly typical salmon red to begin with. The fish was in the cure about a total of 7-8 days, which is a long time for salmon. The longer the cure, the drier and saltier the fish, as well. If you cure your own fish, you'll have to experiment to see what you like.

Using the plastic film, turn over the first little bit of the edge of the roll on itself. Once you have turned over the first little bit, use your fingers to tighten up the roll, keeping the film between your fingers and the fish. Use the film to keep pulling the fish over itself, forming a tight cylinder as you go. The film is absent in the subsequent photos to keep the glare down; this is merely for photographic convenience.

Here is the roulade, rolled about half way. Notice how I have tightened the roll up as much as possible. There is a fine line between tight enough and so tight that you start forcing the filling out of the seams. Be gentle; using the film to form the roll helps you keep the pressure gentle. If you do touch the roll with your hands, use the flats of your palms and roll gently. It's not hard to do, but go slowly until you get the hang of it.

Obligatory food porn shot number two in which the photographer feels compelled to give tight, close up shots of highly edible foodstuffs. The ends of the roulade will be naturally a bit ragged as you see here and that's OK. However, it is a terrible shame that you will have to trim and eat these little snack bits rather than serving them to your guests. Poor you!

Here you see the completed (but unwrapped) roll just before I put it in the refrigerator to chill. Notice about a third of the way down that there is a slight void between a couple of pieces of gravlax (where you see the white filling peeking out). This is nothing to worry about or even try to fix: small voids here and there will not compromise the integrity of the roll once it firms up in the refrigerator. The solid filling will bind everything.

Roll the roulade in the film. I discarded one of the two pieces on the counter and rolled the fish in the other. Gently roll it back and forth on the counter to make the cylinder as uniform as possible. Place on a tray and refrigerate for at least four hours and preferably overnight. You want the filling to firm up as much as possible. If you are in a mad rush, use the freezer.

Here's what you are aiming for, a tight roulade with few internal voids. My hints for slicing the roulade: make sure the roulade is very cold, use a very thin knife with cullens such as a gravlax knife or ham slicer, slice directly through the plastic film, and wash the blade in warm water between slices.

Rockfish, Ed's Style

Last Thursday, we hosted the Richmond Culinary Guild at the restaurant for a 4-course luncheon. I really appreciate that someone would drive two and a half hours just to come to the restaurant. At the beginning of the luncheon, I demonstrated cooking the entrée course of the luncheon, Rockfish Ed's Style, in the dining room. Rockfish is what we here in Virginia call Striped Bass.

This very simple preparation that is a constant best seller at the restaurant has its roots in a pasta that I used to make for myself and for my friends. In short, it's a dish I've been cooking for decades now and I love it so much that I have given it my name, Ed's Style.

I'm going to give the recipe for a single serving below; scale up is in direct proportion.

Ed's Sauce

2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
1 teaspoon minced garlic
1 pinch crushed red pepper flakes
3 tablespoons dry white wine
1/2 cup peeled and seeded tomatoes
1 tablespoon non-pareil capers with a little of the brine
2 artichoke hearts, quartered
3 basil leaves, chiffonaded
salt and pepper to taste

Heat the extra virgin olive, garlic, and red pepper flakes over high flame, stirring every now and again, until the garlic starts to caramelize. Stop the garlic from overcooking by adding the white wine, tomatoes, capers, artichokes, and basil. Cook the sauce a couple of minutes and reduce to your liking. Season.

Rockfish

1 rockfish (or other mild white fish) filet
Wondra
salt and pepper

Preheat your oven to hot, 450F or higher. Heat a sauté pan over high heat and film with oil. Dredge the fish in seasoned Wondra and place in the pan. Cook first on one side until it browns well, about two minutes, and then on the other side.

Place one serving of Ed's sauce in the bottom of a flat ovenproof pan and place the fish over this. Roast in the hot oven until the fish is just done. Serve immediately.

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.

Of Spring and Groundhogs—Shad Roe

That damned ground hog up in Pennsylvania truly hogs the media spotlight, yet knows nothing about spring when compared to the shad! Each year, American Shad (Alosa sapidissima) start their annual migrations from saltwater up the freshwater rivers along the East Coast to spawn. It may feel like the middle of winter, but there is no clearer sign of spring’s appearance than the first sets of shad roe—shad egg sacs—in the market.

Shad roe come in sets of two crescent-shaped sacs of eggs that many people describe as disgusting looking. Ranging in color from pale beige to crimson depending on the diet of the shad, they’re certainly not the most beautiful things on earth, but they are far from disgusting, especially to taste. Shad roe have a mild, almost nutty flavor with a hint of fish. Some customers have compared it to liver, but shad roe is unlike any liver that I have ever tasted.

I’m a Virginia boy through and through and as the Chesapeake Bay and its estuaries constitute the largest domestic shad fishery, I grew up eating shad and its roe, and when we couldn’t get shad roe, herring roe and scrambled eggs would suffice nicely. I certainly don’t remember eating shad roe for the first time and until I was out of college, I never knew that people disliked it. In college at the University of Virginia, I used to make special trips to the C&O Restaurant in the spring, just to feast on shad roe.

I’ve since learned that shad roe is one of those polarizing dishes: either you fall into the lover or the hater camp. There appears to be no middle ground, although many of those who claim to hate it simply don’t have the nerve to try it. Which phases us shad roe lovers not in the least: it simply leaves more for us!

I’ve never seen shad roe on the market any earlier than this year, when we started serving them February 12. For me and other devotees, cooking the first shad roe of the year is a rite of spring. My ritual always involves rendering some bacon and finishing the dish with white wine, lemon juice, and capers. Over the years, I have moved completely away from pan-frying the roe to roasting them in the oven. The sacs don’t burst and so the presentation is much nicer.

I think I know what I’m going to fix myself for lunch today! Owning a restaurant does have its benefits!