Day 6: On to Another Course- The Soup

On a cold and rainy April day we huddle in to experiment with a hitherto untouched course of the meal- the soup. It’s all we can bear to do. The grey skies have gone on too long.

After a numerous sighs and many long silences in which we stare off, we force open a bottle of wine and decide to give it a try. Here, in this course, we wish to be sober and respectful and create an introduction for Henrietta’s corpse of an entrée and woo the diner into a comfort zone. We need confidence if we are going to pull the diner along with us throughout the course of the meal. Tonight we try a watercress soup for the vibrancy of green foliage in which a poached egg will float – ile flottante. Simple, elegant, distinct and introducing the themes of pastoral bliss as well as the hues of the entree. All good cooks must show respect for tradition and the diner’s experience especially if one w ants to shock them bloody later.

Watercress Soup

tbspish of butter

1/2 yellow onion

shallot

celery

salt

in a pot to soften. Once softened 3 sliced leeks are added. These leeks are flattened, like a leak drawn two dimensional on paper. What is up with this? Is this grown in a box, a skinny rectangular box, for space concerns while being shipped? Odd and untrustworthy. Meanwhile the potatoes are being diced into 1/2 inch cubes. We are using baby dutch yellows today. 1 and 1/2 lbs are added. A splash of venho verde for good luck. After a few good minutes together in the pot and a couple of colorful pictures 6 cups of chicken stock are added.

Two bunches of watercress is a nebulous measurement. A cup of parsley. A shake of Tabasco. And time to ignore it.

Once the potatoes soften the soup is blended until smooth. BZZZZ. And water is begun for the poaching of the egg. The first taste. Hurumph. Springy. Good. And starchy. Tastes like all her soups, so she says. It’s an excellent potato and leek soup but it wants more watercress. Amazing. Is there no limit. 3 bunches next time and less than 5 minutes.

We sit down to a sage soup speckled w/ dark green bits of leaves, a few coils of lemon zest, and an island of egg.

It’s a little gritty and too starchy. Less potatoes please- down to 3/4 lb. Lemon zest works well. It goes on top of the egg. Again, more watercress and less potatoes and less it pop.

Not exactly what we wanted. Until next time.

Sorry for the drollness of this entry. The April weather is wearing.

Ye Olde Campfire

Yet another reason to know about your food. Yet another reason to take responsibility for your food. It makes you what you are. It will make us into who we will be.

Check out this link and read an interview with Richard Wrangham, a primatologist and anthrpologist looking into the food of our ancestors.

http://www.nytimes.com/2009/04/21/science/21conv.html?_r=1&scp=1&sq=richard%20wrangham&st=cse

Day 5: Henrietta III- The Bird's Condition

Well, Day 5 was a long ass day. There were successes and setbacks. The innards were our crowning glory but the bird, well, she tried. We'll leave it at that.

Here's how it went.

She may not be our prettiest Henrietta but she may be the most delicious, we hope. 425 degrees at 8:42 PM on a Monday here in sunny Seattle. And we pause to enjoy our wine.

And she’s done. 9:20. Turned over at 9:10. Juices are clear. A bit grey Henrietta III. “This one’s cracking me up. But she’s really quite beautiful turned over.” Well put. Henrietta is resting as the sauce is commenced. She Experiment #3 for details.

Henrietta emerges from the oven. She is gorgeous. Unfortunately, the sauce did not make a wonderful showing tonight but we will live. It is time to eat. A little red table wine from Italy. She's very brown this evening and lacking cheese. Extra juicy done as well. Meaning, as we dig in a little further, maybe not totally done. Meaning, as we near that intersection of the thigh and the body were bits of blood remain, put it back in. Henrietta III needs another turn under the sun.

So, while waiting, we discuss the bird's service, her entry, her introduction at the table. The bird should be served whole with a piercing of the spear of Longinus thereby exposing the inside so everyone can watch the waiter slice the bird serving by serving. Or, better yet, the plate should be served as a beautiful, girly, feathery thing waiting for something to crawl onto it, curl up and go to sleep. But, it is empty. What, the diner will wonder, could ever come and rest on this, such a lovely plate. Then comes the bird. She bears a single cut across her hindquarters. The waiter presents. Speaks. Cuts and removes the hindquarters to let the innards free. And the knife is turned over to someone at the table who looks moderately responsible and they are left to their own devices. We are very happy with the innard’s concoction, but is it disgusting? Is it shocking? Does it look too good? Can we cause them to recoil in fear.

So, we ask, should the innards be bigger, more graphic and therefore distinct. Perhaps the bird needs to be nestled in a clean, cutting, savory whip cream bed. Or perhaps, a light, spring green bed of cilantro inspired or wasabi or basil whip cream. So subtle. A perfect nest for a carcass. But what about the cheese? It may not be brie after all. Who knows? And if greens are present they shouldn’t be in this dish, but as another, and that may be the missing link between the soup and the entrée or the amuse bouche and the soup, and they must be greens that are crisp and with an edge, not soggy and limp in flavor.

If there is a fifth course it should be a salad- fennel, clean, and bright- chicken themed, something crisp such as a corn salad w/ a crisp cute green leaf. And we could use an amuse bouche to cleanse the palate at the beginning at the day. We are missing the spice that binds it all, but thyme did a good job. Impressed with thyme.

These are our revelations and deep conversations into the night. Our conclusions: Cherries done one day in advance with 3 times the heat. They were plump. We were impressed with the cherries. The pomegranate sauce will be done a day before. Mix the cornstarch in hot water please and bake the bird longer.

We can't say this was the most exciting or illuminating of sessions, Day 5, but we find ourselves ever closer to something grand. Wish us, and the bird, luck.

Day 5: After a Long Hiatus- Henrietta III

If  we must explain why the entries are so late in coming perhaps it was because of a secret, underground, hidden from the world of urbanites, cooking seminar in the wilds of Borneo.  Without television, internet, or cell phone service we were at the mercy of our guides and focused on the intense honing on one’s cooking skills concerning the ‘boar of Borneo’- Sus Verrucosus.  You try hanging from a gigantic tree in a tiny hammock and shooting wildly at raging sow.  But, that's as much as we can say.  We are bound to delicious secrecy.

We return to our endeavors.  Life simply intervened, and we put our dreams on hold, begrudgingly.  But tonight, we have returned to the kitchen for another exciting foray into the world of Carnal Food as inspired by Chef Nordo.  Our menu is coming together, and soon we should be able to describe it in its entirety.  The future seems bright.  We have solicited yet another sister, Henrietta #3, for the evening.

By the way, as an aside, a note for the converted, there is rumor afoot, in the undercurrents, and among the niches of the ether, that insinuates that Chef Nordo himself may be presenting a dinner locally, here, in Seattle.  My guess, he will land in Fremont.  It suits him.  With any luck we will hear of it in time to get a seat at the table.  Perhaps it will be a mere evening of food in which only the privileged partake.  But, if we are lucky, Nordo will settle in for a bit, appreciate the flavors of Seattle, get to know us, and we can get to know him.

 Tonight, we try new innards.  Cherries are in the works, and we have the stones to go for habeneros.  No more pansying about with serranos.

The brining is only 8 hrs this time.  Our first mistake:  do not brine frozen bird.  The pomegranate molasses simmers for 50 min.  Red peppers are broiling before.  Red onions will be browned slowly with thyme and sausage (still an inferior small link breakfast sausage soon to be replaced by a quality, skinny German sausage) to be added after carmelization occurs.  We need the angel hair of sausage.  Meanwhile, cherries will be infused w/ the habeneros.  At the moment is it wine based or balsamic?  Balsamic is so strong but maybe the secret.  Or, could it be chicken stock?  TBD.  All the bits will be mixed w/ brie cheese for that gooey innard consistency, and Henrietta will be stuffed.

The process begins again.  This is good.  We feel happy to be back.

One habanero is the answer for tonight.  We want little cherry fireballs on the tongue.  12 oz. dried cherries.  2 cups balsamic.  1 cup water.  1 little blistering pepper.  On simmer until reduced to just cherries.  Balsamic it is.  That is the decision.

 Henrietta #3 is a very organic chicken complete with innards and a few straggly feathers.  She is a pleasant mauve rather than a lavender having more tones of the greys.  And it is time to debone once again.

And we are definitely making progress.  The wishbone has been extracted in one piece for the first time.  Unable to remember the process exactly and without instructions we proceed pulling the meat from the bones bit by bit.  Everyone on the internet opens the bird down the middle.  We call this weak.  Henrietta is in her squat phase.  As Yvette proceeds there is the loud pop of ligaments snapping.  She is becoming an expert at chicken deboning.

“I’m getting good at this now.”  Chuckles of glee.  “Come here lady.”  It's all a bit sadistic.

Mid-deboning the peppers are removed and placed in a bag to steam.  As well, the cherries seem done.  With caution they are popped in the mouth.  Good and not quite enough bite.  Maybe 2 peppers next time.  Another cherry.  And another.  And there’s the heat.  Habeneros do win the flavor contest for peppers.

Success.  Yvette lords over Henrietta triumphant.  Time for the stuffing.  After 45 min of browning the onions, the sausages were added on medium to low heat- nestled in a nest of onions.  The diced roasted red peppers and spicy cherries are mixed.  A cubed ½ lb. of brie thrown in for good measure. 

“That does what I wanted it to do.  A little burny and sweet.”  She’s excited.  It’s the first good stuffing.