cassoulet

You cant go wrong with Jennifer McLagan: This is her cassoulet, and the verdict tonight was that it soars above others. Of course, with a book entitled Fat, what could go wrong?

Jennifer's recipe for duck confit, while not pictured, is flawless and important. That process began days ago, leading to pork skin and then the skinned duck confit layered upon Great Northern beans, having been cooked with thyme, parsley, cloves, and leeks (a subsitution in the recipe for onions):

Atop that was lamb and pork belly, and another layer of beans. The beans are actually a mix of the aforementioned beans with cooked tomatoes, all of which forms another layer (which is actually less wet than the photo suggests). The beans are studded with andouille sausage:
 

Baked for three hours with bread crumbs and chopped duck confit skin (another modification: I thought that the skin would slowly render into the crust, and it works!), it becomes this:

I served this with kale stewed in chicken stock. As it is so rich, this was preceeded by fermented beets, raw fennel, and a mixture of olives. 

We ate this with the kale, garnished with parsley and Tierenteyn mustard. The mustard and parsley pulls it all together. 

With such a rich meal, a following salad course of endives and watercress in lime, olive oil, and pistachio oil made way for Miss Fat's fabulous apple cake with whipped cream and a fantastic walnut topping.

pâté de campagne

Last time that I made pâté de campagne I didn't have a source of caul fat, that gorgeous membrane surrounding the internal organs. This time, living in Chicago, I did. Above is the terrine with a caul fat lining ready to be packed with the pâté mixture. As with last time, pork liver was hard to find and I substituted (veal liver this time, beef liver last time).

The caul fat held everything together beautifully and the pâté was firm, moist and delicious. (This is, once again, a mostly-faithful following of a recipe of Jennifer McLagan's). I served this with chervil, Colman's mustard and cornichons.

sour cherries!

Sour cherries were something I had only heard about — I assumed you needed to live in France, Hungary or California to even imagine finding them local. I was wrong.


I found these local sour cherries with a "try me" sign at a family market in town. They are, hands down, the most delicious cherries I have ever eaten. In a perfect world, I'd have had a duck to roast and would have made Canneton Montmorecy.

What I did make was a cherry shortcake of sorts. I made biscuits from Jennifer McLagan's Fat cookbook — I baked her suet biscuits for cobbler on a sheet pan and they turned out amazing! I soaked pitted cherries in Luxardo Maraschino Originale (which, as far as I know, is the only true maraschino liqueur produced) and some sugar, split the biscuits, placed the mascerated cherries and juice on the biscuits and topped with cream whipped with more Luxardo (no additional sugar needed).

The biscuits hold up to the tartness of the cherries while having a savory lightness that only comes with suet (I figured I needed a no-hold-barred biscuits for the cherries and maraschino) and the combination is truly stellar. We didn't even pause for a photo.

pâté de campagne / country terrine

Finally using my great-grandmother meat grinder for its intended purpose.


Here's a little over a pound of pork belly — it's on the lead side (that is to say, it's not all fat) so I used just the belly (no other cut of pork) with the liver. I used beef liver, since it's easy to find, cheap and local. I soaked it in milk to take out any overwhelming flavors.


Started with the belly, but alternated, per Jennifer McLagan's suggestion in Fat, meat and liver (belly being tough, and liver soft, it makes it easier). I then sautéed onions and garlic in lard and suet with some sugar, until caramelized.


Heavy cream, parsley, thyme, brandy, salt, eggs, pepper and a mixture of hungarian paprika and merquen ahumado, a great, smoky chili pepper that a friend passed onto me.


The meat gets mixed on slow as the spices, eggs and cream are added. Then the onions and garlic are added.


A bastardized version of several recipes, this was finished with strips of belly fat as I couldn't find caul fat for wrapping but also didn't want to go the bacon wrapping route (I wanted to taste liver and belly, not bacon).


Baked in a water bath until it reaches 165ºF — and the aged at least two days.


Voilà — simple, very rich (and best after a week), coarse like the pâté de campagne I tasted at wine tastings in the Loire as a student, and proving that beef liver can be great. Now if only I could find caul fat for the next try!

braising oxtail

This is my second attempt at making oxtail. Last time I braised the oxtail with brussels sprouts and turnips. Here, I go to Jennifer McLagan's recipe in her sublime book Fat: An Appreciation of a Misunderstood Ingredient. First, the oxtail are seared in suet.


A mirepoix mix is sautéed in the fat, wine is used to deglaze, bay, star anise and garlic is added, and then it is covered in stock (I used a mix of lamb and beef stocks) and let to braise slowly in the oven. I also added some marrow bones and allspice berries. The meat is then taken out of the broth to cool.


Once cooled, a rich fat can be taken off the unctuously gelatinous stock.


After a second braise in the oven.


Served with suet dumplings poached in lamb stock. Incredible.

in praise of asafoetida

Just submitted the first two — of six — grad applications. Short of breath (from stress, not asthma). Needed to reward myself. And thus, a River Rock Farm shoulder steak. And pommes Anna. And yes, brussels sprouts sautéed in duck fat with almonds and asafoetida. As asafoetida is probably a relative of the once oft-used siliphim, I've been convinced that asafoetida being limited to Indian cooking is a tragedy. (It is amazing with de Puy style lentils.) Offering a hint of garlic and leeks, it makes everything better. Especially brussels sprouts with almonds in duck fat. Moreover, this appropriately reflects (and builds upon) my last meal as a serious baker; the steak is emotional, but asafoetida has been used to treat asthma and bronchitis, the chronic conditions that have been caused by me baking.

oxtail with brussels sprouts and turnip

Bought some oxtail yesterday. I had been thinking about it since seeing an "Oxtail Galette" on a menu. Never having had oxtail, I was excited about the prospect. Came across oxtail and did what seemed right: I cooked the hell out of it.


It's very fatty — as you can see from the fat I left on the meat and the fat in the background that the dog ate (although I wish I had, it was so good). I had two pounds of oxtail (one large, fatty one, two smaller). I seasoned and then fried them in olive oil and drained the oil and removed the meat. I added a leek and most of a head of garlic and sweated that. I added the meat, a huge sprig of thyme, a bay leaf, some beef stock (made with beef ribs, leek greens, allspice and pepper) and some mediocre Beaujolais. I covered it with parchment and a lid.

Two hours later I added brussels sprouts (quartered, in thirds or halved, depending on size), a carrot and a turnip.


And an hour after that, it was amazing. I seasoned it. I took out a section of oxtail, removed the meat from the bone and chopped it. I ladled vegetables and broth on the side. Growing up, I was the kid who hated "gristle" on meat. This has lots of fat and collagen and is so incredibly good. The fat just melts in your mouth. This would be amazing in a crock pot too.

rillettes

Duck rillettes. Quite possibly one of the most delicious things on earth. Rillettes is potted meat, from the Old French rille, or "strip of lard" (Robert Historique). Traditionally made with pork, duck or other fatty meats will work.

Here we go. (Recipe inspired heavily by Jennifer Mclagan's recipe in Fat: An Appreciation of a Misunderstood Ingredient [2008])

Take a duck and take it apart. Reserve extra fat for rendering (above right), use breasts for another use (see last week) and make a damn fine stock with that carcass. Keep the bones in the legs and wings. Marinate all of that overnight with coriander, pepper, orange peel, pork belly (or blanched salt pork), bay leaves and a splash of vermouth (or white wine, the vermouth is in tribute to Julia Child, who seemed to have loved it for cooking.)

Drain and sear the meat, fat side down, until nice and dark. Cast iron is ideal. Add marinate. Cover and bake at 250º for a while — I went for 3½ hours. (Added a splash of port after an hour.) And then two more hours at 200º. And then I let it cool for an hour in the oven, uncovered.

Above left is what's left: beautiful dark meat, falling off the bones (make a second stock with those bones, it's worth it). Shred every bit of meat that you can get off the bones, and then shred every bit of fat. Work it all together and add the liquid (which you've reduced to a thick sauce) from the roasting, as well as some of the fat. A splash of calvados or brandy here is nice.

Pack it all into ramekins, and then cover with a layer of clean duck fat. Let that sit in the fridge for a few days. It'll keep like that for, they say, months. Once the fat seal is broken, eat it in a few days. (Eat at room temperature.)

And here it is, on a sourdough baguette. It is very very good. Riduculously good.