Mâche Salad with Quail Eggs

You’re only as good as your ingredients.

Well, if the fresh-picked mâche I served last night together with soft-boiled quail eggs, fragrant blushing apricots, soft baby sage leaves, glossy thyme and you-could-cut-it-with-a-spoon pork tenderloin were any indication, then I was Thomas Keller.

I’d been dying to use the lamb’s ear lettuce that I allowed to grow into little poufy bouquets. When I stumbled upon a dozen-pack of quail eggs at the farmer’s market this weekend, I knew I had to get them. Paired with the mache, a sweet sherry-shallot vinaigrette and just the right amount of yolk-ooze for richness, it was divinity on earth. Plus, my daughter loved just peeling and eating the little taupe and brown speckled orbs.

Also at the farmer’s market I found not just apricots, but fresh, firm, fragrant blushing apricots, boxes upon boxes that someone was physically removing from a trolley and emptying into a bin. I halved them, added a very little drizzle of honey, fresh chopped thyme, a crack of black pepper and canola oil. The honey is optional, really, because the fruit will caramelize into its own glossy glaze on the grill. The apricots behaved perfectly: they kept their shape once cooked, and developed the most sensuous sheen and sweetly savory flavor. I topped them with a drizzle of fig balsamic vinegar upon serving, and ringed them around the pork tenderloin on the serving platter.

For the pork, I blended in a Ziploc bag at least 1/4 cup of honey, a good dose my husband’s Evan Williams Reserve Honey Bourbon, two large cloves of microplaned garlic, sea salt, ground pepper and chopped thyme. The honey helped create the most incredible crust, further enhanced by a final sprinkle of sea salt before serving. I put the tenderloin on a blazing hot grill, turned it only twice, and that was it. I grilled the apricots while the pork rested.

To round out the meal, I went with an old favorite: white potatoes and sweet potatoes tossed in my Sherry vinegar, shallot and sage dressing. They’re good hot, cold, room temperature and especially the day after. I believe I’ve written about them before.

This all sounds elaborate, but the integration of ingredients on hand and the thread of common herbs and flavors across each dish was both fluidly intuitive and deliciously complementary. Each element just made sense. And it was, honestly, all fairly quick. Only peeling the potatoes was somewhat time consuming. The rest was toss, grill, serve and – most importantly - enjoy.

Honestly, I picked up my daughter from camp and gave her a snack after arriving home at 4:00 p.m. We chatted, she wanted some TV, and out of nowhere it was suddenly 5:00. To the tunes of Frankie Valli & The Four Seasons Greatest Hits, I started by picking my herbs outside and had everything on the table at 6:00 on the dot. I was completely in the zone.

I feel guilty for admitting the ease, because it also felt so good to serve a special weekday meal like this for just the three of us.

Eco-Nomics
Mâche from the garden: $5 (easily. I can’t believe what a single miniature plastic shell of this costs at Fairway, if they have it.)
Still in the red by $6.86. So close and yet so far!

Pork, Peaches & Potatoes

I rarely, if ever, blog a meal. But the sun, the moon and the stars aligned on this one, from the ingredients to my timing on the grill.

It was a Saturday meal created after returning home from my daughter’s art class after four, and with Mike to return from work at seven. I served boneless pork marinated in a sherry vinaigrette with fresh sage, grilled peaches with balsamic vinegar and fresh thyme, and double-garlic potatoes, all with a salad that was freshly picked, just like the herbs.

I marinated the pork first and the peaches last, but started cooking the potatoes first, then the pork last. My timing blew me away as well – all three dishes were done to perfection and at the same time. When I got the Weber 3-burner grill early this spring, I loved it from the start and was ambitious from the get-go. First dish? Leg of Lamb, bone-in. I’d never owned a grill like this, only a charcoal kettle model, which I hated wheeling out, stoking, then cleaning later. But I’m a maniac with this one. From that first dish onward, I mentally vowed not to turn on my oven until Thanksgiving (except for baking), and there’s no need to: You can do everything on it. Try this:

For the Pork
4 lean boneless pork chops, 1” thick.
A dozen sage leaves, in a chiffonade
One small clove garlic, microplaned
Sea salt & fresh pepper
1 tsp sugar
Sherry vinaigrette (see below) plus extra sherry vinegar.

At least an hour before grilling, put a little smear of garlic on each pork chop, then marinate the chops in your sherry vinaigrette plus two extra tablespoons, salt, pepper, sugar and sage. Turn to coat during the course of marinating.
Grill 3 minutes, then turn 90 degrees and grill 3 minutes more. Flip over and finish to desired doneness. S&P the hot chops and serve.

Sherry Vinaigrette
4 T. sherry vinegar
¼ C. canola or other neutral oil
One small shallot, finely minced
1 t. Dijon mustard
1 t. sugar
S & P to taste.

Whisk together all ingredients to emulsify.
I had this leftover in the fridge from some salads last week and thought I’d try it as the pork marinade. I’m glad I did.

For the Peaches
Four large peaches, white or orange fleshed, cut in half and stone removed
2 T. balsamic vinegar
1 T. canola or other neutral oil
1 clove garlic, mocroplaned (optional)
1 T. fresh thyme, chopped, plus more for garnish
1 t. sugar
S & P
Butter (optional)
Chévre (optional)

Blend together the marinade ingredients in a shallow dish. Place peaches cut side down and swirl to coat. Grill over medium to low flame, rotating carefully to achieve good marks. Turn over, then dot tops with butter, if using. Cook to desired doneness. Plate, drizzle any leftover marinade over the top, and garnish with extra thyme, if desired. Serve with Chévre, if desired. Note: There are times I really like a lot of extra pepper cracked on top. Try it, you’ll be pleasantly surprised.

For the Potatoes
5 large potatoes, scrubbed and halved lengthwise
¼ C. olive oil or neutral oil if you prefer
3 large cloves of garlic, microplaned
1 generous t. sugar
2 t. sea salt
Fresh ground pepper to taste.

I came into a 5-lb bag of russets on Saturday for only $1.49 – not my favorite spud (as previously noted), but I couldn’t pass up the bag. Use any variety you wish. Combine all ingredients very well in a large glass bowl. Grill cut side down for 10 minutes, closing grill to use as an oven. Rotate 90 degrees and close grill for another 10 minutes. Turn over, grill for 15 or 20 mins more, depending on size of the potatoes. When the potatoes are done and still hot, place back into their glass bowl and toss to coat with the remaining garlic oil. Add extra salt, if desired. Garnish with chopped Italian parsley, if desired.

For timing’s sake, after flipping to the skin side of the potatoes, start grilling your peaches on the rear racks. Then move onto the pork chops over a high flame up front.

Fish on Fridays

I feel I haven’t posted too many food entries lately, and that’s likely for two reasons:

- I’ve been starting seedlings and working in the yard more, preparing for the growing season.
- I realize I’ve been putting together a lot of workaday meals lately. You know the sort: thaw some bone-in chicken or the like the night before, broil it, add a veg, salad, complex carbohydrate. Serve leftovers the next night. Wet, lather, rinse, repeat.

Sure, we all do this from time to time. The meals are not uninspired, nor are they so plain. But sometimes we serve them to serve their purpose.

However, with the advent of Lent, it’s fish on Fridays. As an Italian-American, I grew up with that rule [nearly] every Friday. And we go meatless probably more often than most American families, with an ever-growing repertoire of grains, beans and any invented combination thereof. But with the Lent rule in place now, I’m feeling my cooking oats again.

Today’s Scallops in a Beurre Blanc

Dry white wine
Shallots, minced
1 pinch saffron (if desired)*
up to ½ stick unsalted butter
Plain yogurt (heavy cream is classically used in order to stabilize the sauce; you can use plain yogurt for tang if you’re careful not to break it.)
Sea salt & white pepper to taste
Juice of 1/2 lemon**

Butter or Olive Oil
1 lb Scallops dusted with fine flour
S & White P

Treat and combine the first six ingredients as you would for a beurre blanc; reduce. Add the lemon juice last. If it is reduced with the other liquids, I find the result to be too lemony. Season to taste.

Pan sear your scallops (bay or sea).

Finish with sauce. Garnish with fresh chopped parsley or chives and serve immediately.

It was delicious – and quick, as most fish dishes can be. It felt good to get my favorite glass-lidded sauté pan back in circulation, breathe in the steam of that simmering Sauv Blanc [with a glass for the cook, of course], manically chop and top with fresh parsley and serve with a flourish in its steaming, aromatic broth. Crusty bread is not optional, but mandatory here.

More adventures begin next week. I just finished “On the Line: Inside the World of Le Bernardin.”

*Note on saffron: I like it – not just for flavor, but for the creamy extra color it imparts. If you want to be generous with the saffron (and who doesn’t?), then go ahead – and try substituting Champagne for the wine. You won’t be disappointed.

**Note on lemon vs. white wine vinegar: This is a taste issue. The lemon is the acid in the sauce, as would be the vinegar. Depending on the fish, I could go either way. It depends on your audience.

Reciprocal Link:

Grains I

Dinner in question, if you will? When in doubt, consult the sill.

The windowsill, that is.

I love grains, lentils and similar dry goods bought pre-bagged or in bulk. They’re cheap, they keep, they’re healthful and their possibilities are seemingly endless throughout the year. Need a side dish? You could eeny-meeny-miney-mo my windowsill for something new every time. Looking for a side salad? Put on your blindfold and reach into the overflow bag-o-beans and grains in the pantry.

In the winter, a warm pilaf of barley and rice, or rice with lentils, or, as below, lentils and barley is warm, hearty, healthy and delicious hot or at room temperature the next day for lunch. During the summer, a salad of fresh-picked vegetables and handfuls of herbs from the garden tossed with couscous or steamed buckwheat with a touch of lemon juice can be assembled in no time with incomparable freshness and flavor.

My standard windowsill set from left to right: long grain rice, polenta, French green lentils, barley, Arborio rice. In the summer, the far left empty jar is filled with fine couscous and the Arborio rice is replaced with wheat berries.

Also included in the grain larder (i.e. a big ZipLoc bag on the lower right shelf of a cabinet): farro, buckwheat groats, brown lentils, red lentils, split peas, all manner of dried beans, plus overflow for the windowsill jars and likely a few that I'm forgetting, or will find as a surprise whilst digging.

The other night, I put the French lentils to good use with an idea I’d had during the week to stretch the leftovers from a large roasted chicken. The meat was more like a garnish, which was my intent.

1 C French lentils du Puy
½ C pearled barley
1 C chicken stock
½ C water, or as needed
2 shallots, halved and thinly sliced
1 clove garlic, smashed but in tact
Thyme sprig(s)
2 good-sized potatoes of your choice, peeled and cut into a ½ to ¾ inch dice.

Sweat the shallots low & slow until they are very soft, golden and very sweet in butter, canola oil or a blend of both, with thyme and garlic added midway. Add lentils to pan, stir to coat. Add barley, stir to coat. Add S&P. Deglaze with a good splash of sherry (I used Amontillado). Once sherry evaporates, stir in stock and water. Bring to a bare simmer. Cover & cook for about 20 minutes, checking occasionally for dryness. Add water if needed, and re-cover.

Meanwhile, heat your choice of lubrication in a sauté pan. **Note: I had bacon fat in a small sauté pan left over from the morning and used that. I saved the drippings specifically to use in this dish. I recommend it here.** Toss in potatoes and brown on all sides. Salt generously to taste when they are cooked through.

Retrieve garlic clove and thyme sprig(s) from the lentil-barley mixture. Gently fold the potatoes through the pilaf to combine. Garnish with fresh chopped Italian parsley. S&P to taste. Stir to combine. If desired, slice and fan chicken over the lentils and sprinkle the meat with a good Sherry vinegar. Serve with salad and crusty bread with warm garlic confit. Serve same for lunch the next day [shown left, as taken to work], refreshing the parsley and vinegar, if desired.

Kidneys

I’m not quite Fergus Henderson, but some of the best-tasting stuff - organs, blood, guts, tails and entrails - truly go to waste in this country. At least I’m not alone in this thinking in my household. My four-year-old daughter and I battle it out for the last piece of liver – any kind: chicken, turkey, calf or duck (she’ll stab your hand with a fork if you even try to reach for that one).

This started with the first Thanksgiving that she was eating solid food. At the tender age of one year and two months, she decimated the turkey liver all on her own. I look forward every year to that turkey liver. Until she’s married and on her own, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to have it again.

My husband prefers to take a pass on organ meat, mainly due to his concerns over cholesterol. So I don’t serve it too often. But when Mike works late, I’ll make a mess of hearts and gizzards for my daughter and me to “share” – you can guess who powers down the most. When we roast a whole chicken, we cook and eat the contents of the inner packet before we even season the bird. Or I’ll get a small but thick slice or two of calf’s liver for us to cook perfectly pink with juices running. Ketchup? Never. She’s a purist and takes it straight.

So when I saw a pair of veal kidneys glistening and fresh, I couldn’t pass them up. And the price? The butcher was giving them away.

Lightly browned then kept warm, the kidneys were served with a pan sauce of butter, shallots, white wine and a whisk of Dijon mustard. How could you go wrong? Apparently, I did.

“I just passed a stone, and you’re serving me this?!?”

That part was true. Mike had had a really rough go of it, but two weeks had passed [term intentional] since the stone did. I suppose it wasn’t quite enough time.

He made a go of it, though, in part because I think the sauce was so good. But I could tell he was straining a bit at the table.

My daughter, however, was on the verge of licking her plate clean.

“May I have some more, please?” she said at least three times, reaching for the serving platter.

“She loves organ meat,” Mike kept saying, as she shoveled it in and I passed another slice to her.

In the end, I gave Mike a pass, too. “Just swirl the potatoes in the sauce,” I said, which he did, with relish. And we had a good laugh about it later.

Rognons de Veau a la Moutarde
Thank you, Anthony Bourdain.

2 whole veal kidneys
S & P
1 T Vegetable Oil
2 T butter
2 shallots, thinly sliced (more if you like sweet, sweated shallots)
¼ C. white wine
½ c. chicken stock
2 T Dijon mustard.

S/P the kidneys and sauté in the oil and 1T butter. Cook 2 mins per side. Set aside and keep warm.

Discard the fat from the pan, add the rest of the butter and cook the shallots until soft. Deglaze with the wine and reduce by half. Add the stock, bring to a boil, and cook for 5 mins. Whisk in the mustard.

Slice the kidneys, arrange on a platter and spoon the sauce over them.