Experiment #2- In Search of the Primordial Ooze

We channel Jacques Cousteau, part the Salish Seas, and search for that from which all life sprang. We wish to create a dish that says, “I am the beginning of life,” and from this point evolution may take its course.

We attempt a sabayon of the savory variety. This may be the consistency we want for the ooze- creamy, with body, but melting in the mouth. Typically, a sabayon is wine (either white or port), sugar, and egg yolks heated and whipped so that air can enter and increase its size up to 4 times. Used for desserts it is akin to a sweet custard, at least once the French got a hold of it, but originally the sabayon was a foamy way to serve wine and such spices as cinnamon, ginger, nutmeg could be added. But, with a savory version flavored and colored with squid ink, we will create an ooze with a garnish of fluorescent salmon roe for that otherworldly quality of the cosmos. The first step is the milking of the squid for ink. As before the head is separated from the tube with a gentle tug, and the quill extracted to expose the pearly sac of ink we need. Next the beaks are removed and the body cut into sections.

These squid are full of guts. They are a bit gross. Note: 1/2 lb of squid is sufficient for ink.

We contemplate on how to make what is usually a sweet dish into something savory. Do we remove the sugar from the process? Will that kill the rising of the sabayon? Do we add lemon and salt to complement the ocean flavor of the squid? These are the questions.

Quick work. The squids have been milked.

Having never made a sabayon before I attempt to record the chaotic system of Yvette. First we harvest the ink from the sacs using hot water. A sabayon is equal volumes of sugar and yolks adding wine at any time during the process. According to the patron saint of cooking, McGee, it is the lack of moisture that prevents the yolks from rising. It does NOT say that sugar is needed for it to rise, and if anyone would include that in his instructions it would be McGee.

So, in our first experiment: 3 eggs is 1/4 cup. So normally a 1/4 cup of sugar would be used. We will try a 1/8 cup of sugar with a 1/2 cup of wine. We cook it in a glass bowl within a pot- for equal cooking surface. And wow. It’s foamy immediately. Bananas. And after a few seconds a smidgen of squid ink is added saving some in case the experiment is a bust. Color is not taking. We need 100% squid ink perhaps. We need uncut squid ink. And it’s too sweet and salty. Too much sugar for sure. Another egg is added to solidify the mixture. So, we need less sugar and uncut squid ink. Also, the roe needs to float, as of now it sinks, and then maybe we have it, but that is many steps away from now.

A moment to ponder: Will our food glow under a black light? We need to experiment with this after some substance abuse. Another night.

We taste the savory sabayon with salmon roe. Noses wrinkle. The tongue squirms. It wants to flee. A big, “No”. Failure. With the roe it is confusing and feels just wrong. No one puts sweet foamy wine mixture with roe. Damn.

We will try it w/ no sugar. Wine, salt, yolks, ink. And nothing else. If this is going to work we need to have no sweetness, and it must be denser. And then perhaps other flavors such as salt, lemon, or ginger. Or perhaps we add soy; it’s dark, it’s salty, it goes with seafood.

1/4 cup yolks. 1/4 cup wine. No sugar. Dashes of soy sauce. Note: heating the squid ink and water does not work as the ink separates into tiny globules in suspension.

Remember this is compacting the Big Bang into a champagne glass meant to be spooned. Isn’t that ridiculous.

We taste the second attempt. The texture and density are what we are looking for, but too bad it tastes like shit. So close, in a way. Wine and soy sauce do not mix. It sticks to the tongue like it has hair on it. How do we do this? What do we want to enrobe our roe in? A fish ooze. Perhaps, it should have no wine but instead fish oil or a fish stock or a clam juice. Could it be an herbal mixture? Would that work?

These are questions that only the inquisitive light of the Calypso can answer. The beginning is always the hardest. Isn’t it? To soothe our damaged egos we listen to some John Denver. Some other day we will journey further on into the world’s darkest mysteries and attempt to illuminate what only the bravest palettes have discovered. Good night.

A post note: We drift off into sampling sea tangle, salsify, and other not so relevant items found at Oujimaya. Sake meant to be warmed, meaning not very refined, can only be found in magnums. Is this a problem? Sake: the silent buzzer.

Squid Jigging and Cleaning

The New Year finds a new project in the bowels of Café Nordo. 2010 promises more challenges and hopefully, greater achievements, in the odd fusion of theatrics and food, gastronomy and social commentary, that is the realm of Chef Nordo Lefeisczky.

At Pike Place Market we take the first steps of yet another journey into the absurd world of absurd foods. Plunging into the depths of the sea and seafood we find ourselves standing before hills of ice with fish and crabs of all sizes layered between. We are full and not much looks good. The evening began with a local microbrew, a dozen oysters, an ahi poke, and mussels. These were provided by a local restaurant and were not cooked by us. “Let’s go to a restaurant on the docks and learn about seafood there,” we had said.

So, we decided on something rare and out of our comfort of cooking- the squid. Cheap, slimy, a creature of the depths with a good maritime history, we jumped in with both feet. An abundant little creature, it lives in the NW though not in enough numbers to make an industry. We catch a squid with a jig, and so we go jigging for squid. Those are the terms.

An abundance of squid live off the coast of California. The squid we eat, the smaller ones, feed near the surface as the cold ocean depths rise brining plankton. A good industry has taken hold there and can bring in as many as 70 tons a year, but with ocean temperatures changing (squid like water in the 50’s) the herds have migrated south and the industry had some abysmal years in the 90’s. Recently, California witnessed an invasion of the larger Humboldt squid, who generally prefer deeper, colder waters, and some confrontations with divers have been reported. It’s popularity has risen across the country but mostly as deep fried calamari and sushi and only secondly as an entrée.

A Squid Fact: The pinker the squid and the less distinct the black spots the older the squid is. A fresh squid is more translucent. An old squid tends toward purple with mottled black spots. Ours are old. We didn’t know.

Back at the lab, we open the book and read the instructions.

Grab the body in one hand, grab the head in the other, and pull the squid apart taking the intestines w/ it. Easy. It slips off like a glove. And there is the beak nestled in among the tentacles that must be squeezed off and discarded. It seems to be attached to a long milky white tube. Called a quill, it resembles a segmented and transparent reed that could only live in the ocean.

Hey there’s an ink sac in here. Yep, a pearly, grey spot w/ blue streaks that should be gingerly extracted and placed in a bowl. Our first mess- ink everywhere. It says carefully cut it away, and well we may not have been careful enough. The cutting board is stained black. With enough of these we could turn any course into a black void of deliciousness; that is the goal anyways. The Italians use this to flavor and color pasta. (other squid oil uses of web.) When done correctly this is known as milking the squid.

Remove the tentacles from the head just below the large scary eyes. Don’t cut into the eyes. They squish in an unsightly way. Squid have the largest eyes in the oceans, and so there’s a lot to squish.

We first try the tentacles in a glass jar and pour boiling water over them. They wilt and curl upon themselves, but don’t dance and flail as hoped. The steam smells of the sea. We split the tentacles. Chewy. Squidy. Watery.

We remove the fins and peel off the brownish pink skin to reveal what we know as a calamari tube ready to be cut and breaded if that was our goal. Our first squid has been cleaned. What have we learned today? Squid cleaning.

And now, we have squid on the brain.