Bistro Classics: Potato Gratin

I have been a bad food blogger. Not only have I not be blogging, I haven't even been cooking. This past week I had one day where I actually made something for dinner and it was the spaghetti and meatballs I've already raved about twice. Our other meals have consisted of leftovers, a dinner out for the anniversary, pizza, hot wings, and sushi. So yes, even I get too busy to cook. Even I order takeout (although I cringe while doing it). So when Saturday rolled around, it was time for some home cooked pleasure. This heavenly potato gratin certainly delivers.

I must ask you to excuse my deteriorating photography skills. The problem is I have no natural light after 6:30, and I never manage to make dinner by then. I've been trying all the tricks I have up my sleeve, but I think I'm going to have to fold and get some real photography lights like these ones I've been eyeing. Until then, I apologize, but guarantee you that this is SO good, even if it doesn't look it.


Don't even think about using another variety of potato here. Trust me, I've tried. Waxy potatoes don't absorb any liquid, leaving you with a funky separated sauce, russets absorb too much and get mushy like mashed potatoes. Yukon Golds are richer in flavor, absorb just enough liquid to result in a thick, creamy sauce and hold their shape well. I've also found this method allows the potatoes the perfect amount of cooking time and results in a tender, well sauced gratin.

Golden Bacon, Leek and Gruyere Potato Gratin


6 slices maple smoked bacon
8 oz cleaned leeks, white and light green parts only, cleaned and sliced into half moons
1 1/2 cups chicken stock
1 cup heavy cream
1 1/2 tsp nutmeg
1 1/2 tsp thyme
1 1/2 tsp ground black pepper
pinch of salt
2 1/2 lbs. yukon gold potatoes, scrubbed and sliced 1/8 inch thin (if your knife skills could use improvement, employ a mandolin)
7 oz shredded gruyere cheese
3/4 cup seasoned breadcrumbs
1/4 cup grated parmaggiano reggiano
2 Tbsp melted butter

Preheat the oven to 400 F.

In a large nonstick skillet, cook bacon over medium heat until crispy. Set aside on paper towels to cool, reserving grease. Add leeks and saute until softened but still green. Empty into a bowl and set aside.

Combine stock, cream and seasonings and bring to a simmer. Add potato slices and simmer until they are just starting to get tender, about 8 minutes.

In a large greased gratin dish, layer in 1/3 of potatoes, followed by 1/2 of gruyere, leeks and bacon. Repeat, then top with remaining third of potatoes (pour any liquid left down over the gratin).

Mix together breadcrumbs, parmesan and butter with a fork. Sprinkle in an even layer over the top of the gratin.


Bake until breadcrumbs are golden and bubbling sauce has thickened, about 25 minutes.

Serve alongside another bistro classic, such as steak au poivre and haricots vert. (I had chicken marsala with mine)



P.S. Omit the bacon, sub milk or veggie stock for chicken and this is an oh, so satisfying vegetarian meal!

Montmartre Memories

As a teen, I was blessed to have a father who believed that traveling broadened children's horizons and made them learn to think beyond themselves. This resulted in what was probably the best experience of my life thus far, a summer between junior and senior years of high school, spend studying in Cambridge, England and Paris. Along the way I made some incredible friends, all of whom were well-educated and interesting youths in the same program as myself, and who were simply more interested in sports, friends and academia than drinking and recklessness. I had previously thought I was the only teenager who felt this way, so it was a refreshing experience to meet so many others.

We studied things like art, quantum physics (I got an A!) and British cultural history during the day, followed by some punting on the backs and getting dressed up as characters from the Bond movies to dance the night away. It was good, clean, wholesome fun and I tend to think of it as my college experience. My real college years were fraught with hard-work (both in and out of school - at one point 3 separate jobs, and I graduated with a 3.9), very few friends (since I didn't drink- no one felt the need to hang out with me), and strained relationships with both L and my family.

I have so many pleasant memories of that summer that I could never fit them all in here. Recently I was thinking of our time in Paris, a whirlwind trip of museum after historic site after museum. Home base was a little hotel tucked away into a corner of Montmartre, with day trips to Versailles, Monet's gardens and the place where Von Gough painted his greatest works. I can only recall one meal I had in France that summer that did not include crepes, and I'm pretty sure it's because they were not on the menu. I was, and am, obsessed. One of my favorite crepes has always been a simple, slightly sweet crepe stuffed with paper-thin sliced ham and cave aged gruyere. I must have eaten this upwards of 10 times while we were there, although once my french was so poor that I received a crepe almonde instead of crepe jambon. This makes the perfect breakfast, and they freeze well, fully assembled and wrapped tightly in plastic, waiting to be popped in a microwave or toaster for a quick treat on the go.


Crepes au Jambon et Fromage (or ham and cheese pancakes for the rest of us)

Fragrant Sweet Crepes
1 cup all purpose flour
1 cup milk
4 eggs
4 Tbsp melted butter
1/4 cup sweet marsala wine, lukewarm
1/4 cup water, lukewarm
1 tsp almond extract

Combine all crepe batter ingredients in a blender. Whiz, alternating between low and high speeds until completely homogenized. Let sit at least 30 minutes, or refrigerate up to 48 hours. This resting time is essential, as it not only lets the air bubbles escape the batter, allowing you to make perfectly thin crepes, but it also allows the flour to soak up flavor from the batter.

Indulge me with a little discussion about pans. I don't think you need a crepe pan. In fact, I used to have one, but I found that, number one, it was too small for the crepes I like to make (and the ones in Paris are probably double the size of the ones I make), and two, it was extremely hard to keep it properly seasoned and flip the crepes without tearing them. I think any large (I'm talking 12 inches or more) nonstick skillet or well seasoned, shallow, curved edge pan will do. I use a 14 inch Calphalon One skillet (not nonstick) that does not really get used for much else than pancakes, french toast and the like. Repeatedly melting butter in it has resulted in a lovely surface that crepes stick to enough to cook properly, releasing completely for flipping. I imagine a well seasoned cast iron pan would act in a similar manner. If you don't have such a pan, nor the funds to invest in one, just go with a large, inexpensive nonstick. But don't try to make crepes in an old nonstick that's been scratched up. The surface must be smooth.

On that note, preheat your pan over medium heat. I keep a stick of butter alongside, to rub the inside of the skillet with. I do this between every other crepe. The butter should sizzle slightly in the pan, indicating it's hot enough. Pour about 1/8-1/4 cup batter (depending on your pan's size) into one side of your tilted pan. Rotate the tilt around the pan, so that the crepe batter runs down and out to each edge. Keep swirling the batter until it's no longer liquid, then place the pan on the heat. Let cook 30 seconds - 1 minute, or until underside is golden brown. Use your fingers to pull up the crepe at the edge, slip a wide, flat rubber spatula underneath and gently flip the crepe over. Cook for another 30 seconds, then remove from pan to a cooling rack.



Assembly
5 crepes
4 oz very good quality aged gruyere (should have little crunchy crystals that develop in a properly aged cheese)
10 paper-thin slices best-quality honey ham

Use a vegetable peeler to make thin slices of gruyere, a little under an ounce in total for each crepe. Arrange gruyere in one quarter of the crepe. Fold half of the crepe down over it horizontally, then fold vertically to make a little sandwich wedge. Toast in a buttered pan or toaster to melt the cheese and warm the crepe through.



P.S. I hope you will bear with me, as I have a feeling I may be a weekend blogger for a while. I always forget how much work it is to get back into teaching at the beginning of each year, and even more so now that I have master's classes running simultaneously. Monday the invasion begins! Wish me luck!

Liquid Comfort: French Onion Soup

If you've ever had homemade french onion soup you wonder why anyone ever bought the canned kind. It's so simple, relatively hands off and deliciously comforting. Since it was 50 degrees out today (somehow fitting in May after 80s in April), I needed something warm and nourishing for dinner.

French Onion Soup

2 Tbsp butter
7 large vidalia onions, sliced into rings
1 Tbsp salt
1 cup cream sherry
2 quarts beef stock
2 cups water
1 porcini bouillon cube
2 bay leaves
1 Tbsp thyme
1 tsp garlic powder
2 tsp onion powder

slices of rustic style bread
slices of swiss, jarlesburg or gruyere cheese

Over medium heat, melt the butter and add the onions and salt. Saute, stirring occasionally until onions are dark mahogany and reduced by at least half. (45 minutes to an hour). Add sherry and turn heat to high until sherry hs become syrupy. Add remainder of soup ingredients and bring to a boil. Reduce heat to low, simmer 15-20 minutes.

Cut bread to the size of oven safe soup crocks. Toast bread. Portion soup into crocks, top with bread and cheese. Broil until cheese is golden and bubbly.

The Best Bread of All Time

Yes, that's right, of all time! This is hands down the easiest, most satisfying and completely delicious bread that has ever been passed on our table. It is simple enough for a child to do it, it has a crisp but chewy crust and a light, airy, tender middle. I can guarantee you it will be on my table at least once a week. As soon as you try it you will find room on yours too, I promise! This is a variation of the famous New York Times No Knead Bread. I love the garlic and rosemary combo, but you can certainly have other spices serve as switch hitters or leave them out entirely.

P.S. This is a double recipe. Make one loaf, and if you don't devour this in its entirety that day, save the rest in a covered container in the fridge. The flavor will only get better.

Rustic Miraculous Bread



1/4 tsp. active dry yeast
3 cups slightly warm water
6 cups unbleached bread flour (I like King Arthur)
1 1/2 Tbsp. sea salt
1/4 cup of garlic rosemary seasoning (no that's not a typo - this amount is still surprising subtle)

Add water to yeast in a LARGE bowl and let sit 2 minutes. Add other ingredients and stir to combine until it forms a shaggy mess. It will not resemble dough. Cover with plastic wrap and let sit on the counter for 18-20 hours.

After a good night's sleep, it should be wet and bubbly. On a floured surface, dump half the dough out. Using wet (not floured) hands (so you don't mess with the flour to water ratio), form the dough into a ball, stretching the sides back and folding them into the middle to form a taut skin. Let sit in a floured (clean!) dishtowel over a bowl for 2 hours, or until it has puffed up proudly to double its previous size.



Preheat the oven with an enameled cast iron dutch oven inside of it at 450 for 30 minutes. Could you use another type of pan? Sure, but you won't get the rustic shape and your crust will suffer. The heavier, the better and the lid really makes a difference.

Slap the dough right into the roasting hot dutch oven, lid it up and bake for 30 minutes. After that, remove the lid and bake for another 10 minutes, or until the internal temp reads 210 degrees F. Let cool on a baking rack and serve warm with good butter (I like a garlic parmesan compound butter).

Feeling a little French...

So I had some VERY ripe pears sitting on my buffet table and mocking me. Now, normally I would devour a red pear before it even reached its peak of freshness. But this week I was tempted by grapefruits and lured by blackberries, so the pears sat there, basking in their glory, defying me. This could not be allowed. I've come across quite a few French inspired posts lately, and it was inspiring me to try some French pastry. Now, normally I would back away and cower in the corner at the thought of meticulous French sweets, but I was feeling particularly brave tonight. Hence, my reinvention of the Pear Frangipane tart (I used up my almonds in a pilaf earlier this week). A mixture of hazelnuts and macadamias make great understudies, adding buttery richness.



Parisian Pear Tart

Almond Pate Sucree

1 cup flour
1/3 cup confectioner's sugar
1/4 tsp salt
6 Tbsp butter, chilled cut into small pieces
1 egg yolk
1 1/2 Tbsp chilled ameretto liquor
1 tsp almond extract

Combine flour, sugar and salt in the bowl of a food processor and pulse to mix. Add butter pieces and use quick pulses to incorporate until mixture forms coarse crumbs. Add egg yolk and extract and drizzle in 1 Tbsp of liquor. Only add additional liquor if the mixture is not coming together when pulsed. Form dough into a disk and chill for at least one hour.

Preheat oven to 375. Roll out dough and transfer to a greased 9 inch tart pan with a removable bottom. Press to fit and Line the pie crust with aluminum foil. Fill with dried beans to keep the crust from shrinking. Bake for 25 minutes, then remove the weights and foil and bake for 5 minutes. Let cool to room temperature.

Frangipane

1/2 cup hazelnuts, toasted with skins removed
1/2 cup macadamias, toasted
2/3 cup sugar
2 tsp. all purpose flour
1 tsp. cornstarch
6 Tbsp. butter
1 egg
1/2 tsp almond extract
1/2 tsp vanilla extract

Pulverize first 5 ingredients in the food processor until no chunks of pesky nuts remain. Add egg and extracts and pulse enthusiastically. Refrigerate until tart shell is cool.

Pears:
Although you can certainly poach the pears, there is no reason or logic to doing so with truly ripe specimens. Peel and slice three beauties and toss them in lemon juice.

Assembly:
Preheat the oven to 350. Spread the frangipane evenly in the tart shell. Press the pear slices down into the filling. Use a pie crust shield or aluminum foil to prevent the crust from burning. Bake for 50 minutes, then remove shield and bake for 10 minutes. Let cool at least 20 minutes before serving.