Valentine’s Dinner for Two

We will drink no wine before its time.

Well, it was time for the Chateau Leoville Barton St. Julien, 1995, this Valentine’s Day. I prepared a special dinner for two at home planned both around the wine and some quiet time together.

I’ve written in the past about our Bordeauxs aging in the basement, so I checked CellarTracker once again and honed in on the Leoville Barton for this meal.

With schools closed Monday for President’s Day, my daughter wanted a Sunday sleepover at my mother’s – who was glad to oblige. Mike and I also are off from work on Monday, so I proposed a Valentine’s Day dinner in. It is always good to reconnect as adults, so while Mike was at work Sunday, I dropped my girl off in the afternoon and hit the ground running. The first thing I did was uncork the wine and aerate it so it could open up for the night.

Now, Mike and I have been together for so long that at this point, you’d think I’d greet him with his slippers, a plaid robe, pipe and a double Dewars. Instead, I opt for the cheese of Bourgogne and a bubbling bowl of snails. But that’s just me.

While the menu may look ambitious, even impressive, it’s the flavors that are both: the ingredients do all the work. The preparation of each element is fairly straightforward – which is good. I had a lot to accomplish before Mike arrived home, including setting the table with our good china, crystal and wedding silver.

Menu
Warm duxelles over toast points with Chevre
Brillat-Savarin cheese
Champagne grapes

Escargot

Baby lamb chops, seared pink, with a Montmorency cherry and red wine reduction glaze
Mashed potatoes
Friseé salad in a fig balsamic vinaigrette

Dark chocolate truffles and a heart-shaped chocolate mousse cake for two for dessert

Duxelles
I love duxelles and don’t make them often enough. They’re great as served above, but also quite versatile in both appetizers and main courses. I came into some simply GORGEOUS chanterelles at Fairway on Saturday. I couldn’t believe my luck. Plus, my thyme plant on the patio is still producing leaves. Don’t let the price per pound for exotic mushrooms scare you off – you barely need six ounces.

2 C chopped mushrooms, mixed if desired.
1 T. minced shallot
2-3 T. Butter
Fresh thyme leaves, chopped
White wine or Amontillado sherry (what I prefer this time of year)
Salt & black pepper to taste
Flat-edged wooden spoon or spatula

Gently clean, trim, then chop your mushrooms into a medium to fine dice, as desired. Heat a very wide skillet over medium high heat until it’s about to smoke. Seriously, this is where people go wrong. The pan has to be hot.
Toss in the butter, swirl to melt, then add the mushrooms and shallot. Toss gently, then leave them alone and let them cook. Agitate them if they’re sticking; add more butter if necessary until they brown. They will give up their juices (mushrooms are mostly water). Let the juices steam off. Add your thyme and a scant splash of your wine or sherry, deglaze, and let it steam off.
Season w/S & P, more thyme if desired, and serve warm. If my chive pot weren’t dormant, I would garnish this with fresh-snipped chives.

Fruit & Wine Reduction Glaze
This is a good thing to know how to make. The principals behind it are useful and can be translated to many dishes. It can also be made ahead of time. The glaze can be varied in the ingredients and herbs. I make it with fresh figs and fresh tarragon when figs are available in late summer, with dried apricots and thyme in the winter, or with apples and fresh sage in the fall with pork. The dried Montmorency cherries have a sweet and sour bite to them, and are usually stocked at Trader Joe’s, where I got mine. Soak dried fruit in a bit of warm water, then drain before using. I used thyme with the cherries, which I plumped with red wine in a warm pan.

1/2 stick unsalted butter
8 oz. fresh fruit or somewhat less for dried fruit
1/4 cup finely chopped shallot
1 cup red wine
1 1/3 cups chicken broth; veal demi-glace if you have it for the lamb or other red(dish) meat
1 tsp cornstarch
1 tsp sugar
2 T balsamic vinegar. I’ve also used good Sherry vinegar, though slightly less, depending on the fruit and meat.
1 T chopped herbs: tarragon for figs, thyme for apricots or prunes; if using rosemary, it’s pungent. Cut quantity in half.
Salt & black pepper

Heat half your butter in a heavy skillet over moderately high heat, then brown your fruit without stirring. Transfer to a bowl. Add shallot to now-empty skillet and sauté until golden and soft. Add wine and about 2/3 of your fruit and boil, stirring and mashing the fruit, until wine is reduced to a syrup. This takes about 5 minutes. Stir in broth or demi-glace and boil. Stir cornstarch and sugar into vinegar until dissolved to make a slurry, then whisk into your pan. Boil for at least 2 minutes. It will thicken. Work the mixture through a fine-mesh sieve into a small pot or saucepan. Press every last bit of liquid out of it. Discard solids. Stir in your fresh herbs, S & P to taste.

If serving immediately, whisk in the remaining 2 T. butter.
As I said, this can be made a day ahead, or ahead of time. If so, bring to a simmer, add any pan juices from the meat, and whisk in your final bit of butter just before serving. It will be as glossy and smooth as silk.

Scatter reserved sautéed fruit artfully on the meat platter.

Because I was serving just two tonight, I cut the above in half. Make it once, and the recipe is yours. After the second translation, you’ll be able to do it in your sleep.

Quail Quandary

I knew they were just too good to be true.

A few weeks ago, I stumbled upon a supply of Canadian quail at, of all places, a local Asian market. Frozen, four to a package, and unbelievably cheap, at least compared to what I’ve seen or paid in the past – if you can even find them!

Since that date, I’ve been fantasizing about a quail dinner, planning and plotting for basically as many friends and family can attend. Pan seared and oven finished, I would fill them with a fruited stuffing with walnuts and dress them in a fruit and red wine reduction glaze. I started accumulating odd ingredients for the meal and appetizers, from veal demi glace to a really nice Camembert I happened upon last week and snapped up at a great price.

I didn’t entertain as much as I intended to over the holidays, so I’ve been itching to go all out. I rounded up some of the usual suspects for a Sunday dinner then called more. Monday the 18th is a holiday, no work, no school, so a late night wouldn’t be out of order. I had my final head count on Monday night and headed out to buy the quail after work on Tuesday.

I eagerly start piling the packages in my arms. Then I really looked at them: they seemed a little too plump and “whole.” I peeked through the cello-wrap and try to see into the birds’ cavities. The neck part of each bird is facing toward the outer rims of each package. A big label from the Canadian farm covers most of the top, so I can’t see into the bird’s “other end.” I start to wonder.

“Are these cleaned?” I ask a random worker stocking a separate freezer case.

He looks, turns the package all around in the same way I did, and says, “I don’t know.”

I go to the butcher’s counter and encounter a language barrier. No biggie, I’ve communicated through more. He “thinks” they’re clean, but can’t be sure. Then he looks, and says, “No.” He calls over a woman who looks at me like I’m nuts. She has a thicker accent than the butcher, but speaks some English. She looks them over, brings them to another worker to caucus, points to me – I think I saw an eye-roll at that point – and returns.

“Not cleaned,” she says. I still don’t want to believe it. How can I pass these up? I’d been fantasizing about a Night at the Opera-type dinner for weeks.

I ask, “Is the liver inside?” A basic question, easy to answer, to get my confirmation.

“Yes!” she says, almost excitedly.

“And the lungs?”

“Yes!”

Turns out, these birds weren’t cleaned. Sure, they were plucked, and as the final man I spoke with said, “Lady, head cut off.”

It’s not the head I’m worried about.

Cleaning the quail would be like doing an autopsy on a sparrow. Sixteen of them. I did consider it, almost at length. I really wanted to make them. They are delicious, impressive and secretly so, so easy to cook. Could I just thaw and eviscerate? Sixteen stomachs, 16 livers, 32 lungs, a football field’s length of intestines. No, I’m not cleaning these things.

Cornish game hens will do, one per person plus spares.

Sunday’s Menu

D’Artagnan paté de foie gras on toast points with cornichons
Warm duxelles over chevre on toast points
Morbier and Tomme de Savoie cheeses; Chevre.
Champagne grapes
Toasted walnuts
Acacia honey
Veuve Cliquot Champagne and Santi Nello Prosecco [Santaniello is my maiden name. I had to get this!]

Roast Cornish game hen with fig and walnut stuffing and a fruit reduction sauce.
Mache salad with a warm sherry vinaigrette and Camembert on Baguette
Roasted mini red and Yukon gold potatoes
Steamed green beans
A red Bordeaux or Margaux [TBD]

Opera Cake and truffles
Tawny Port and coffee.

Haut Dinner Planned

Looking ahead to Valentine’s Day, I have been thinking about delving into some wines that my Uncle Doug gave us on our wedding day ten years ago this June. Doug, a fairly serious Bordeaux collector, gifted us a full case of wines (two each of six bottles), and the following four varieties are still “cellaring” in, well, my cellar (i.e. the basement.)

Chateau Haut-Brion, Pessac Leognan, 1993; Cru Classe des Graves; Premier Grand Cru Classe en 1855;

Chateau Leoville Barton, Saint Julien, 1995; Cru Classe en 1855;

Chateau Lagrange, Saint Julien, 1995;

Chateau Ducru-Beaucaillou, Saint Julien, 1994; Grand Cru Classe de Medoc en 1855;

They may not look very organized in the picture, but that’s because when we moved into this house 6 ½ years ago, that’s where they ended up, on their sides in that antique wrought iron bin. We are reluctant to move them.

I would like to plan a dinner around one of them, but which? And, of course, what should I make?

Now, the Wine Spectator pages I have from the respective years indicate that all would be fine to consume this year, 2009. The ranges are listed “2001-2020” for the Haut-Brion, 2004-2025 for the Leoville Barton, and the like. Each description gives tasting notes as well, although for a 1996 printing, I’m not sure what the wines would really be like right now. I’m sure all the black currant of the LaGrange will come through a dozen years after publication.

What has helped me most? A site I just discovered upon unearthing my prize wines: Cellartracker.com. I didn’t know it existed before now, and am so happy to have found it. I wholeheartedly encourage a visit. Containing reviews from around the world for various (HUGELY varied) wines, vintage years and years each was consumed, I found it not just expansive, but fascinating. Someone who drank my 1993 Haut Brion last year recommended more cellaring time, although the wine was still “stellar.” All of the above wines in their respective vintage years were listed with many, many comments – it was great to read through. I think I’m zeroing in on the 1995 Lagrange as of now, but I’ll let you know in the end what we decant.

As for the food to be served? Let the games begin!

I already have some baby loin lamb chops in my freezer, but am thinking about preparing duck. I haven’t roasted a duck in a while, and ooh, we love it. One of my favorite preparations is with a Montmorency cherry gastrique, although perhaps the acid may be too much for the wine. I know the cherries would be divine with it, perhaps even a gentler fruit preparation. Another way to go would be with my sherry and shallot sauce made from pan drippings, topped off with a spritz of good sherry vinegar. Oh, there we go with the acid again. I just find that that sort of accompaniment helps temper the richness of the duck. Duck hasn’t been on sale lately that I’ve seen, so I don’t have one stashed away. Then again, I’m about to open what could be a $300 bottle of wine – why am I thinking about coupons??!

As far as the lamb goes, I may just keep the loin chops in the freezer for another time and do a small Frenched rack roasted rare. And what I should do is consider a trip down to the D’Artagnan distribution center in Newark, not that far from me, and pick up some really choice ingredients straight from the source. Now I’m thinking foie gras over toasts topped with a Montmorency cherry preparation as an appetizer to utilize duck, serve the lamb … the possibilities now seem endless.

A trip to Newark (odd as that may sound) is looking better and better to me. Plus, I could hit the Ironbound for some fresh anchovies to make boquerones. But that’s another blog entry altogether.