Sunday, December 30, 2012

Buttered barley

porkbarley.jpg
Eastside Road, December 30, 2012—
YESTERDAY'S DINING WAS HEAVILY in debt of our friend the pig: ham and cheese on a baguette from Ken's Artisan Bakery in Portland; then another from Mix in Ashland. Yep: we drove down from Portland in a single day. We arrived too late to consider getting supper together, but the neighbors down the hill came to the rescue with a delicious cauliflower gratinée and a chunk of … roast pork, cooked I'm sure in the wood stove. Porchetta, is what it was, to get us in the mood for Rome, and it was welcome.

There was enough to slice the rest for tonight's dinner, accompanied by romanesco and Marion Cunningham's buttered barley pilaf with chopped scallions, then followed by the usual green salad and, for dessert, salt-caramel ice cream with applesauce. I like it.

Primitivo, Grifone, Puglia, 2010

Friday, December 28, 2012

Charcuterie

NE 8th Avenue, Portland, December 28, 2012—
LEFTOVERS YESTERDAY: prime rib, mashed potatoes, Brussels sprouts; delicious cheeses; Beaujolais.

Boardleft  Boardright

But today we went out to a mid-afternoon charcuterie dinner, where I feasted on the charcuterie you see here, called a "French Board": two types of saucisson sec, a slice of terrine, a generous soup spoonful of rillette, a chunk of garlic sausage, and a slice of Vallée d'Aspe. Before, I'd had my share of Lindsey's fine butter-lettuce salad. I like this place.
Morgon, Lapierre, 2011
• Olympic Provisions, 1632 NW Thurman Street, Portland; (503 894 8136

Wednesday, December 26, 2012

Boxing-day dinner party

NE 8th Avenue, Portland, December 26, 2012—
TO THE ELEGANT home of a couple of friends here tonight for a big day-after-Christmas party. It's so nice when your friends are professional cooks; you always eat so well. Tony had barbecued a couple of good-sized pork roasts; the result was almost exactly Roman porchetta.

But the miss-en-scene was not Roman but good ol' Amurcan BBQ, though with finesse and forethought. There were soft, tender, yielding little dinner rolls to split and ladle good sauce onto. There was an excellent slaw, with a little cilantro and some habañera peppers chopped into it. And there were trays of beautifully made mac and cheese.

Best of all, the huge serving table — there must have been close to forty guests — was bilaterally symmetrical, with a piquant slaw, sauce, and such on one side, a more retiring but still well flavored offering of the same on the other. And bowls of potato chips! And good brownies for dessert! Thanks, Diane and Tony…
I.P.A., "Intervention"

Christmas Dinner(s)

NE 8th Avenue, Portland, December 26, 2012—
WHAT! FASTING FOR CHRISTMAS? Well, Christmas did fall on Tuesday; technically I suppose we shouldn't have eaten. But if you don''t feel like following a (self-imposed) rule, just really break it wide open. So we had TWO Christmas dinners, and they were so much fun, and involved so much socializing, that I didn't take any photographs.

The first was in fact on Christmas Eve, when we roasted a goose and made bagna caudal. I had a little to do with both operations. The goose was frozen, because I'd neglected to reserve a fresh one from a local farm — that would have had to have been done last May, it turns out — but it worked out just fine. It weighed twelve pounds, and came with all its spare parts, thank Schiltz.

After it had thawed, which took a couple of days, I tore off the extra fat and set it aside, along with the neck, gizzard, heart and liver. (We'll deal with them later.) I rinsed it and dried it, rubbed it with salt inside and out, and stuffed it with a couple of pounds of our apples of several varieties, which dear Lindsey had peeled, cored, and quartered; combined with a pound of pitted prunes cut in half.

I always make a few pokes with the tip of a sharp paring knife through the skin on the breast of the goose, also the sides, to encourage the exuding of fat while it cooks. We roasted the goose for half an hour at 450°, then took it down the hill to finish in the neighbor's oven at 375° for a couple of hours. The goose was basted from time to time with its own juices. It was perfect.

I cut seven or eight stalks of cardoon from my plant, trimmed them of leaves, and peeled the strings off the backs of them using an ordinary potato peeler; then cut them into inch-long chunks, putting them in a bowl of water with the juice of a lemon (and the two halves of the squeezed-out lemon). When they were all done I brought them to a boil, then let them stand, drain, and set aside.

The bagna cauda was simple: about six tablespoons of butter, just melted; very thinly slice garlic, say eight or so cloves, softened in the butter; a couple dozen little anchovy fillets, drained of their oil and mashed up; and a couple of cups of good olive oil added to the mix, cooked softly for ten minutes or so.

Dinner was phenomenal: cheeses and olives and nuts, the bagna caudal with the cardoons and also endive, cubes of bread, strips of sweet red and yellow pepper which T. had prepared.

After the roast goose and T.'s wonderful red cabbage we had the usual green salad; then dessert: her incomparable apricot-and-raspberry Linzer tart, and eggnogs…
Cava, Bohigas, Gran Reserva (fine, almost tight, complex, perfect: thanks, Michael); Bandol, Domaine du Gros ’Noré, 2007 (solid, fruity, good terroir, a fine vintage); Cabernet sauvignon, Francis Coppola, 2000 (a little past prime but still pleasing: thanks, Kendall)

AFTER ALL THAT, and far too little sleep, and a twelve-hour drive through rain and dismal sunshine, we tucked into dinner last night, another traditional one, with a dozen at the table: extended family. Dinner was prime rib and mashed potatoes, Brussels sprouts, green salad of course, and three fine cheeses: two Stiltons and a cheddar.

CookiesThen for dessert, this imposing plate of candies, dates, and cookies.
Champagne, Agrapart & Fils, "Les Sept Crus" (authentic); Beaujolais Nouveau, Domaine Dupeuble Père et Fils, 2012 (in magnum): sound and fruity; Gigondas, Domaine Les Pallières, 1999 (in magnum): edgy, smooth, mature but spirited; Châteauneuf-du-Pape, Domaine du Vieux Télégraphe "La Crau", 1999 in magnum): fine, round, deep, prime (thanks, Joe and Karen!)


And then, finally, a sound eight-hour sleep, and now I'm caught up.

Sunday, December 23, 2012

Leftovers

rillettes.jpg
Eastside Road, December 22, 2012—
LEFTOVER ROAST CHICKEN tonight, with the same vegetables, and no complaints here.

Particularly because of the first course: Franco's delicious rillettes, spread on rye-bread toast. Green salad was the third course, and a fourth hardly seemed necessary…
Viura, Montañano, 2012: smooth and generous

Roast chicken

chicken.jpg
Eastside Road, December 21, 2012—
WELL, IT TURNED OUT that co-grandfather is a vodka drinker, not gin: so we put the ginvent calendar on hold. He stayed to dinner, though, so we roasted a chicken. I rinsed it and salted it inside and out, then stuck a Meyer lemon inside it, and sprigs of rosemary under the skin on the breast.

Judy Rodgers has the simplest, most fail-proof approach to roasting a chicken: Preheat the oven and the rack to between 450 and 500 degrees; roast the bird twenty to thirty minutes breast side up; turn it over for another ten to twenty minutes; turn it back to the original position for another five to ten. The bird should brown and begin sizzling in the first fifteen to twenty minutes; if sooner, reduce the heat a bit.

(For more detail, get and read The Zuni Café Cookbook: it's an important basic reference.)

With the chicken, romanesco, cranberry sauce, and the best little farmers-market potatoes we've had this year, roasted in the oven. Green salad afterward.
Cabernet sauvignon, Simi, 2000: a little over the hill, but sound (thanks, Kendall)

Friday, December 21, 2012

Ginvent

ginvent.jpg
Eastside Road, December 21, 2012—
I FIRST WROTE ABOUT this wonderful survey of spirits back on December 9:
…I forgot to mention that a box arrived in the mail a couple of days ago, a gift from a distant relative — a co-grandfather, I suppose you would call this degree of relationship, who lives in New York. What should be in the box but another box, and what should that turn out to be but a Ginvent Calendar: a box with twentyfour little pull-the-flap-and-open-the-door surprises, each of them a dram — three centiliters — of a different gin.

What a marvelous idea! It came too late to function as planned, countdown to Christmas: but then I'm not Christian anyway; I can make this an advent to whatever I like. What I like is New Year's Eve, so I opened the first flap yesterday, the second today. I open them in the morning after breakfast, so I can put the curious little bottle in the freezer to share ice cold with my consort before dinner.
The next day we suspended our survey, shifting instead to hot toddies at bedtime because of fierce head colds. Now, though, that's behind us, and we've been back at work. And now, here are a few tasting notes, with the demurral that it's difficult enough to remember tastes from one day to the next, let alone when you're limited to a dram or so; and one doesn't always record notes right on the spot…ginvent2.jpg

1: Hendricks Gin (41.4%): floral, sweet but not sugary, tasting properly of juniper but with a hint, I thought, of lemon and maybe even marigold.

2: Tanqueray Export Strength (45.30%): also floral and a little sweet in the English tradition, juniper of course but also a hint of vanilla, seems to me.

3: Tanqueray No. Ten (47.3%): Very similar to the above, maybe more sandalwood, spice.

4: G Vine Floraison (40.5%): Herbal, dark, bitter, smoky; apple?

5: Greenalls Gin (35.5%): Light, accessible, pleasant…

Said co-grandfather pays a visit this evening, and we'll visit the next two bottles, and I'll try to take better notes. Hmmm: six and seven. We're at sixes and sevens, this last day of the Mayan sequence…