Why a post defining something that you can just look up in Wikipedia? Because I am not satisfied with any definition that I can find. The classic French herb mixture called fines herbes ("feen zairb") is not something that can be fully defined as a short list of four herbs, finely minced. And far too many so-called references on the web and in print, including scholarly dictionaries, rush to give their idea of which four herbs comprise fines herbes and many of these authorities' lists are at odds with each other.
What these lists fail to address is the spirit behind fines herbes. Fines herbes are those herbs that in traditional French cooking pair well with seafood, poultry, and other delicately flavored dishes. These are herbs that are finely minced and added at the last minute before service to add both grace and a lightness (I particularly like the French words for this concept: légèreté, délicatesse, grâce).
Years ago as a young man, like the current experts, I used to be certain what the correct four herbs were; however, the older I get, the more things tend to gray, not only my hair. In reality, each chef has a preferred number, combination, and ratio of fines herbes. Although four herbs are traditional, some chefs use more and some use less. Herbs that are more or less traditional are parsley, chervil, chives, tarragon, thyme, dill, and other similar (that is, delicately flavored) herbs.
My favorite combination is parsley, chervil, chives, and very young dill, in equal proportion. I think that chervil gives enough anise flavor to the mix without adding the oft heavy handed tarragon. [Aside: tarragon never was on my list of "delicate" herbs—it is a culinary beast capable of slaying many dishes.] Very young dill is just the ticket for me. But naturally my mix varies depending on what I am cooking, what herbs I have on hand, and what season it is.
What you can infer from my list above is that assertive herbs such as rosemary and oregano do not belong in fines herbes, nor does cilantro which is highly alien in classic French cuisine. Could lemon balm or lemon verbena be a part of my fines herbes mix? That's a definite yes. What about bay? No, it's very pungent. Basil, no, I think not.
I hope you are starting to recognize the picture that I am trying to draw for you. Fines herbes is about fresh, tender, delicately flavored herbs that work well with mild dishes such as poultry, seafood, eggs, clear or cream soups, and salads, added at just the last moment for a touch of freshness and lightness. You would be served well to remember this and forget about the canonical list, which does not exist and probably never did.
Showing posts with label parsley. Show all posts
Showing posts with label parsley. Show all posts
Thursday, January 8, 2009
Friday, December 26, 2008
An Herb Primer
Here are notes on the herbs that we use most often at the restaurant.
Basil
Most of the culinary basils have some mint, licorice, or cinnamon flavor components. Each basil varies in flavor, but they are all wonderful. Basil and tomatoes are forever joined in my cooking vocabulary. I don’t understand one without the other. Basil is always included in my herb marinades. Basil is generally cut in ribbons (called a chiffonade) or chopped. It grows easily from seed once the ground warms up. Pinch it back liberally to keep it from blooming. See also Thai basil.
Chervil
A tender herb with delicate fernlike leaves and a slight licorice flavor, chervil does not tolerate heat, so we use it most in spring and in the fall. Chervil is a classic component of fines herbes and works very well with fish and poultry. Chervil is generally plucked from the stems. I love to steam salmon with chervil and if I have it in stock, chervil goes into our herb mayonnaise for fish. Sow early and late in the season in not too direct sunlight. I find it works great on the back side of my pea trellis.
Chives
Chives are a workhorse for me, always featuring in my herb marinades. I love them for their delicate onion flavor and beautiful blue-green color. Also a classic component of fines herbes, chives are usually sliced into thin rings. I often use them to bring a bit of color to light colored foods. Once established, chives are care free and easily self-seeding (to the point of being a pest!). Even if you only have a coffee can on the windowsill, you should have some chives. We also use the blossoms for garnish and I often shred the blossoms into omelettes.
Cilantro
Nothing screams “Fresh!” to me like cilantro (whose seeds are called coriander). The most commonly used fresh herb in the world, cilantro (also known by its Hindi name Dhania) features in all my Latino cooking, in Indian chutneys (dhania chatni, for example), and as a primary flavoring ingredient in salsas. Salsa and cilantro are so linked in my culinary vocabulary that if I did not have fresh cilantro on hand, I probably would not make salsa. Use sparingly as cilantro has a pronounced flavor and be aware that as much as ten percent of the population finds cilantro disgustingly soapy tasting (this is believed to be a genetic issue). Cilantro is most often plucked from the stems and chopped or used whole as garnish. Cilantro does not tolerate heat well, so grow in the early and late seasons. Grows trivially from seeds.
Dill
Dill is a favorite herb. When I think dill, I think cucumbers, sour cream, and salmon. An inoffensive herb, dill can be used in fairly large quantities. It is especially good with eggs, fish, and poultry. Dill is plucked from the stems and optionally chopped. Readily sown from seed, dill reseeds without any effort on your part.
Garlic Chives
Garlic chives are an onion relative with bright green, flat leaves with a pronounced garlic flavor. I use them in generic herb marinades and also any time that I want garlic flavor plus bright green coloring. They are a classic in the chicken mousse that is stuffed into Chinese dumplings. Garlic chives are generally sliced into thin rings as are chives. I always add them to my herb marinades because I have them everywhere now. I never had any success germinating them from seed, but I was able to buy a small pot at a greenhouse and divide it about 12 ways. Now that I have them growing, they self-seed like crazy to the point of being weeds. Go figure.
Lavender
Lavender is not much used as a culinary herb in the US, but it is often found in herbes de Provence from the south of France. The leaves are slightly musty as is sage, so I use them sparingly in herb mixes and chop them very fine. The blooms I sometimes steep in cream to flavor desserts.
Lemongrass
Lemongrass is a grass that grows in clumps and has a delicate citronella flavor that is very difficult to mimic with other lemon flavorings. Easy to grow, but very tender, lemongrass wants heat and moisture. Harvest individual stalks from the outside of the clump and strip away any of tough outer leaves. Cut off the top of the stalk about five inches above the roots and discard the tops. Slice the cream colored lower part of the stalk into rings for marinades and chop the rings finely if you are using the lemongrass in a finished dish. At first frost, harvest all your lemongrass and freeze it. You can try to bring it inside, but I have never had any luck at this.
Lemon Verbena
We grow this tender herb in pots outside the restaurant door. It has a wonderfully intense lemon flavor and even more pronounced fragrance. I use it in herb marinades and for garnishes, but mostly for flavoring desserts such as panna cotta.
Oregano/Marjoram
There are many, many kinds of oreganos and marjorams on the market and they all vary slightly in flavor. The flavor is very assertive, so use a light hand with this herb. Strip the leaves from the stems and chop finely. I mostly use oregano in flavoring Greek dishes and in general herb mixes. I do not like oregano in tomato sauces. It reminds me too much of crappy pizza sauce.
Parsley
I think we’re all familiar with parsley and its bright flavor. We only use flat leaf parsley at the restaurant. Not only is it easier to chop, but it has more flavor than curly parsley. Although it is a biennial, it is pretty useless in its second year—all its effort is going into bolting. Replant every spring.
Rosemary
Rosemary is a classic Mediterranean herb and a natural with lamb and in meat sauces. I love to roast chickens and potatoes with rosemary. It’s a very assertive herb, so use it sparingly. Depending on what I want to do, I either include whole sprigs in bouquets garnis, strip the leaves, or strip the leaves and chop them very fine. If you’re lucky, you can grow rosemary in our climate. There are two cultivars that can tolerate some cold, Arp and Alba. Arp has much better flavor than Alba. Over a period of years, I was able to select a strain of Arp that consistently wintered over for me (on a southwest-facing wall) and ultimately got four bushes to be about five feet tall. Then we remodeled the house and the bulldozer got them before I could move them. A sad day that was.
Sage
Sage is one of the classic Southern poultry herbs along with thyme. Sage features prominently in my poultry dressings, in dirty rice, in my Southern style sausage, and I stuff it into the cavities of chickens that I roast. Sometimes I put whole sage leaves under the skin of chickens to be roasted. Sage is also prominent in Northern Italian cooking and I love it with veal and in white beans. Sage is one of the few herbs that I like better dried than fresh. I generally chop the fresh leaves fairly fine.
Tarragon
Tarragon is another of the classic fines herbes from France. It goes well with both poultry and fish and is a key flavoring ingredient in sauce tartare and in sauce Béarnaise (which I detest). An assertive herb with a definite licorice flavor, tarragon wants to be used sparingly. Strip the leaves from the stems and chop finely.
Thai Basil
One of my darling herbs, Thai basil tastes to me like a cross between mint and black pepper. What a fun flavor profile! An indispensable garnish for many Thai dishes, Thai basil is easy to grow from seed, once the soil gets warm. Strip the leaves as for any other basil. Since the leaves tend to be very small, I often leave them whole. Thai basil is a catchall name for a variety of basils, most of which have purple stems and small dark green leaves.
Thyme
Were I asked to choose five flavorings to bring to a deserted island, the first four are no contest: salt, pepper, thyme, and garlic. I like thyme so much that I cannot think of cooking without it. And it is the one herb I can count on year round. It’s always in the garden, even under the snow. Thyme is one of the quintessential poultry herbs and I rarely roast a chicken without a healthy sprinkle of fresh thyme leaves and a bunch of sprigs stuffed into the body cavity. Thyme leaves are easily stripped from the stalks by pulling from the root end to the tip. There are scads of cultivars, each with its own flavor. Plant a bunch and try them out. My all-time favorite was a variegated thyme (lemon yellow margins on dark green leaves). Sadly, it died without me being able to divide it. I don’t use dried thyme. It can be really strong and bitter.
Basil
Most of the culinary basils have some mint, licorice, or cinnamon flavor components. Each basil varies in flavor, but they are all wonderful. Basil and tomatoes are forever joined in my cooking vocabulary. I don’t understand one without the other. Basil is always included in my herb marinades. Basil is generally cut in ribbons (called a chiffonade) or chopped. It grows easily from seed once the ground warms up. Pinch it back liberally to keep it from blooming. See also Thai basil.
Chervil
A tender herb with delicate fernlike leaves and a slight licorice flavor, chervil does not tolerate heat, so we use it most in spring and in the fall. Chervil is a classic component of fines herbes and works very well with fish and poultry. Chervil is generally plucked from the stems. I love to steam salmon with chervil and if I have it in stock, chervil goes into our herb mayonnaise for fish. Sow early and late in the season in not too direct sunlight. I find it works great on the back side of my pea trellis.
Chives
Chives are a workhorse for me, always featuring in my herb marinades. I love them for their delicate onion flavor and beautiful blue-green color. Also a classic component of fines herbes, chives are usually sliced into thin rings. I often use them to bring a bit of color to light colored foods. Once established, chives are care free and easily self-seeding (to the point of being a pest!). Even if you only have a coffee can on the windowsill, you should have some chives. We also use the blossoms for garnish and I often shred the blossoms into omelettes.
Cilantro
Nothing screams “Fresh!” to me like cilantro (whose seeds are called coriander). The most commonly used fresh herb in the world, cilantro (also known by its Hindi name Dhania) features in all my Latino cooking, in Indian chutneys (dhania chatni, for example), and as a primary flavoring ingredient in salsas. Salsa and cilantro are so linked in my culinary vocabulary that if I did not have fresh cilantro on hand, I probably would not make salsa. Use sparingly as cilantro has a pronounced flavor and be aware that as much as ten percent of the population finds cilantro disgustingly soapy tasting (this is believed to be a genetic issue). Cilantro is most often plucked from the stems and chopped or used whole as garnish. Cilantro does not tolerate heat well, so grow in the early and late seasons. Grows trivially from seeds.
Dill
Dill is a favorite herb. When I think dill, I think cucumbers, sour cream, and salmon. An inoffensive herb, dill can be used in fairly large quantities. It is especially good with eggs, fish, and poultry. Dill is plucked from the stems and optionally chopped. Readily sown from seed, dill reseeds without any effort on your part.
Garlic Chives
Garlic chives are an onion relative with bright green, flat leaves with a pronounced garlic flavor. I use them in generic herb marinades and also any time that I want garlic flavor plus bright green coloring. They are a classic in the chicken mousse that is stuffed into Chinese dumplings. Garlic chives are generally sliced into thin rings as are chives. I always add them to my herb marinades because I have them everywhere now. I never had any success germinating them from seed, but I was able to buy a small pot at a greenhouse and divide it about 12 ways. Now that I have them growing, they self-seed like crazy to the point of being weeds. Go figure.
Lavender
Lavender is not much used as a culinary herb in the US, but it is often found in herbes de Provence from the south of France. The leaves are slightly musty as is sage, so I use them sparingly in herb mixes and chop them very fine. The blooms I sometimes steep in cream to flavor desserts.
Lemongrass
Lemongrass is a grass that grows in clumps and has a delicate citronella flavor that is very difficult to mimic with other lemon flavorings. Easy to grow, but very tender, lemongrass wants heat and moisture. Harvest individual stalks from the outside of the clump and strip away any of tough outer leaves. Cut off the top of the stalk about five inches above the roots and discard the tops. Slice the cream colored lower part of the stalk into rings for marinades and chop the rings finely if you are using the lemongrass in a finished dish. At first frost, harvest all your lemongrass and freeze it. You can try to bring it inside, but I have never had any luck at this.
Lemon Verbena
We grow this tender herb in pots outside the restaurant door. It has a wonderfully intense lemon flavor and even more pronounced fragrance. I use it in herb marinades and for garnishes, but mostly for flavoring desserts such as panna cotta.
Oregano/Marjoram
There are many, many kinds of oreganos and marjorams on the market and they all vary slightly in flavor. The flavor is very assertive, so use a light hand with this herb. Strip the leaves from the stems and chop finely. I mostly use oregano in flavoring Greek dishes and in general herb mixes. I do not like oregano in tomato sauces. It reminds me too much of crappy pizza sauce.
Parsley
I think we’re all familiar with parsley and its bright flavor. We only use flat leaf parsley at the restaurant. Not only is it easier to chop, but it has more flavor than curly parsley. Although it is a biennial, it is pretty useless in its second year—all its effort is going into bolting. Replant every spring.
Rosemary
Rosemary is a classic Mediterranean herb and a natural with lamb and in meat sauces. I love to roast chickens and potatoes with rosemary. It’s a very assertive herb, so use it sparingly. Depending on what I want to do, I either include whole sprigs in bouquets garnis, strip the leaves, or strip the leaves and chop them very fine. If you’re lucky, you can grow rosemary in our climate. There are two cultivars that can tolerate some cold, Arp and Alba. Arp has much better flavor than Alba. Over a period of years, I was able to select a strain of Arp that consistently wintered over for me (on a southwest-facing wall) and ultimately got four bushes to be about five feet tall. Then we remodeled the house and the bulldozer got them before I could move them. A sad day that was.
Sage
Sage is one of the classic Southern poultry herbs along with thyme. Sage features prominently in my poultry dressings, in dirty rice, in my Southern style sausage, and I stuff it into the cavities of chickens that I roast. Sometimes I put whole sage leaves under the skin of chickens to be roasted. Sage is also prominent in Northern Italian cooking and I love it with veal and in white beans. Sage is one of the few herbs that I like better dried than fresh. I generally chop the fresh leaves fairly fine.
Tarragon
Tarragon is another of the classic fines herbes from France. It goes well with both poultry and fish and is a key flavoring ingredient in sauce tartare and in sauce Béarnaise (which I detest). An assertive herb with a definite licorice flavor, tarragon wants to be used sparingly. Strip the leaves from the stems and chop finely.
Thai Basil
One of my darling herbs, Thai basil tastes to me like a cross between mint and black pepper. What a fun flavor profile! An indispensable garnish for many Thai dishes, Thai basil is easy to grow from seed, once the soil gets warm. Strip the leaves as for any other basil. Since the leaves tend to be very small, I often leave them whole. Thai basil is a catchall name for a variety of basils, most of which have purple stems and small dark green leaves.
Thyme
Were I asked to choose five flavorings to bring to a deserted island, the first four are no contest: salt, pepper, thyme, and garlic. I like thyme so much that I cannot think of cooking without it. And it is the one herb I can count on year round. It’s always in the garden, even under the snow. Thyme is one of the quintessential poultry herbs and I rarely roast a chicken without a healthy sprinkle of fresh thyme leaves and a bunch of sprigs stuffed into the body cavity. Thyme leaves are easily stripped from the stalks by pulling from the root end to the tip. There are scads of cultivars, each with its own flavor. Plant a bunch and try them out. My all-time favorite was a variegated thyme (lemon yellow margins on dark green leaves). Sadly, it died without me being able to divide it. I don’t use dried thyme. It can be really strong and bitter.
Friday, April 11, 2008
Today's Word is....Charmoula
I was glancing through an old edition of Food Arts this morning when I saw a reference to lamb with charmoula. In recent days, we've touched on chimichurri (and incidentally on its Italian cousin salsa verde), so why not keep going on the theme of green condiment sauces?
Charmoula, often transliterated from Arabic as chermoula, is the green sauce from northern Africa: Morocco, Tunisia, and Algeria. The basic theme is a lot of cilantro, a little parsley (3:1 ratio), olive oil, lemon juice, a bit of garlic, and that's about where the commonality in recipes ceases.
Each cook adds his or her own touches to personalize the sauce: ras al hanout, cumin, green chiles, cayenne pepper or paprika, onion, lemon zest or preserved lemon, and so forth. Ras al hanout is another can of worms: it's a blend of many spices such as cumin, cardamom, cinnamon, coriander, paprika, cayenne, black pepper and so forth and so on ad nauseum. You think charmoula recipes vary? You should get into a "discussion" someday about the definitive ras al hanout mixture!
This whole thread reminds me that I bought some gorgeous cilantro at the farmers market this morning to accompany my dinner special: Huachinango en Mojo de Ajo (whole roasted red snapper with garlic paste). I'm thinking that charmoula might just be a great finishing touch, but I think we'll call it salsa verde.
Charmoula, often transliterated from Arabic as chermoula, is the green sauce from northern Africa: Morocco, Tunisia, and Algeria. The basic theme is a lot of cilantro, a little parsley (3:1 ratio), olive oil, lemon juice, a bit of garlic, and that's about where the commonality in recipes ceases.
Each cook adds his or her own touches to personalize the sauce: ras al hanout, cumin, green chiles, cayenne pepper or paprika, onion, lemon zest or preserved lemon, and so forth. Ras al hanout is another can of worms: it's a blend of many spices such as cumin, cardamom, cinnamon, coriander, paprika, cayenne, black pepper and so forth and so on ad nauseum. You think charmoula recipes vary? You should get into a "discussion" someday about the definitive ras al hanout mixture!
This whole thread reminds me that I bought some gorgeous cilantro at the farmers market this morning to accompany my dinner special: Huachinango en Mojo de Ajo (whole roasted red snapper with garlic paste). I'm thinking that charmoula might just be a great finishing touch, but I think we'll call it salsa verde.
Monday, April 7, 2008
Chimichurri, or Cooking by Feel
"I'd eat anything, if you'd put this sauce on it."
So said a customer to me on Saturday night in reference to the vibrant green sauce on her grilled veal skirt steak. While this sauce is good, mighty good, I might not give up my firstborn for it as this woman seemed inclined to do. Still, it is a simple and marvelous complement to any grilled meat, which is its role on its home turf in Argentina, where it is on practically every table and where grilled meat (asado) is practically a sport.
The first time I ever encountered chimichurri, I thought "this is nothing but a slightly modified Piemontese salsa verde." This shouldn't be surprising because Argentina was settled in large part by Italians. Like its provincial Italian forebear, chimichurri is a roughly chopped sauce. But, unlike salsa verde which often uses hard-boiled egg yolk as an emulsifier, chimichurri separates easily.
In Argentina and now throughout South America, each cook's sauce is slightly different from every other and if the truth be told, each time a cook makes the same sauce, it is different: a reflection of mood and ingredients on hand. Certainly, I never make the same sauce twice. My ingredients are fairly classical, though more sauces than not contain oregano and fewer contain cilantro. And shallots are a nod to fine dining: rough sauces would contain only garlic. Suit yourself.
Here's my rough starting point:
3/4 c red wine vinegar
1 bunch of Italian parsley, destemmed and roughly chopped
8-10 sprigs cilantro, destemmed and roughly chopped
2 large shallots, roughly chopped
2 cloves garlic, minced
1/2 t black pepper
1/2 t salt
1/2 t crushed red pepper flakes
3/4 c extra virgin olive oil
And here's my rough procedure:
Chimichurri is not a smooth sauce. When I have time, I pound the solid ingredients out in a mortar and then add the oil and vinegar and season to taste. When I am pressed for time, as Saturday, or when I am making a big batch, the big VitaMix blender comes to the rescue. I might have used the RobotCoupe instead, but it was dirty.
When using a blender, make sure not to overblend. I add the vinegar, the rough chopped parsley/cilantro/oregano, and the rough chopped shallots and pulse the blender just to break the ingredients down into a chunky sauce. Then I mix in all the rest of the ingredients by hand and season to my whim.
Now on Saturday, after mixing up the batch for dinner, I thought it needed more bite, both from acid and from spice, so I added a couple extra tablespoons of red wine vinegar (I was going to add lemon juice, but the vinegar was at hand and the lemon was not), another big pinch of black pepper, and a larger pinch of crushed red pepper flakes. After it sat for an hour, it certainly got better, but I thought it needed more salt, so I added an extra pinch.
What I am trying to illustrate here is that recipes are merely guidelines and that ingredients, mood, circumstances, and the phase of the moon all influence the end product. At some point in your cooking career, you have to liberate yourself from recipes and cook by feel. Chimichurri is a great place to start.
Like some of us chefs, chimichurri gets better with age. Better to make it a day ahead. Refrigerate if the Health Department is looking over your shoulder.
So said a customer to me on Saturday night in reference to the vibrant green sauce on her grilled veal skirt steak. While this sauce is good, mighty good, I might not give up my firstborn for it as this woman seemed inclined to do. Still, it is a simple and marvelous complement to any grilled meat, which is its role on its home turf in Argentina, where it is on practically every table and where grilled meat (asado) is practically a sport.
The first time I ever encountered chimichurri, I thought "this is nothing but a slightly modified Piemontese salsa verde." This shouldn't be surprising because Argentina was settled in large part by Italians. Like its provincial Italian forebear, chimichurri is a roughly chopped sauce. But, unlike salsa verde which often uses hard-boiled egg yolk as an emulsifier, chimichurri separates easily.
In Argentina and now throughout South America, each cook's sauce is slightly different from every other and if the truth be told, each time a cook makes the same sauce, it is different: a reflection of mood and ingredients on hand. Certainly, I never make the same sauce twice. My ingredients are fairly classical, though more sauces than not contain oregano and fewer contain cilantro. And shallots are a nod to fine dining: rough sauces would contain only garlic. Suit yourself.
Here's my rough starting point:
3/4 c red wine vinegar
1 bunch of Italian parsley, destemmed and roughly chopped
8-10 sprigs cilantro, destemmed and roughly chopped
2 large shallots, roughly chopped
2 cloves garlic, minced
1/2 t black pepper
1/2 t salt
1/2 t crushed red pepper flakes
3/4 c extra virgin olive oil
And here's my rough procedure:
Chimichurri is not a smooth sauce. When I have time, I pound the solid ingredients out in a mortar and then add the oil and vinegar and season to taste. When I am pressed for time, as Saturday, or when I am making a big batch, the big VitaMix blender comes to the rescue. I might have used the RobotCoupe instead, but it was dirty.
When using a blender, make sure not to overblend. I add the vinegar, the rough chopped parsley/cilantro/oregano, and the rough chopped shallots and pulse the blender just to break the ingredients down into a chunky sauce. Then I mix in all the rest of the ingredients by hand and season to my whim.
Now on Saturday, after mixing up the batch for dinner, I thought it needed more bite, both from acid and from spice, so I added a couple extra tablespoons of red wine vinegar (I was going to add lemon juice, but the vinegar was at hand and the lemon was not), another big pinch of black pepper, and a larger pinch of crushed red pepper flakes. After it sat for an hour, it certainly got better, but I thought it needed more salt, so I added an extra pinch.
What I am trying to illustrate here is that recipes are merely guidelines and that ingredients, mood, circumstances, and the phase of the moon all influence the end product. At some point in your cooking career, you have to liberate yourself from recipes and cook by feel. Chimichurri is a great place to start.
Like some of us chefs, chimichurri gets better with age. Better to make it a day ahead. Refrigerate if the Health Department is looking over your shoulder.
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