soupnancy

The race is over. 

There is still a small trickle of hedgehogs and yellowfoots coming in from the Gaspesie (where it didn’t snow), and a few Tricolome up here, but the season is pretty much officially done.  We just finished up our annual mushroom event, this year with 30 varieties on the menu!  It was a wild success I would say, if not for a few too many last minute cancellations and a touch of staffing stress.  All in all, so rewarding though and much fun was had.  We’re exhausted.

late cepe and agaric forestier

Off the menu, the customers loved the 'fromage frais aux morilles', the smoked polypore pickles, both of which we sold a whack on the side. The puffball lasagne was a favourite, and many were turned onto rabbit which was my coup de coeur.  But as usual, it was the series of mushroom sweets that wowed the most - panna cotta, candies, cookies, cake and ice cream.  It really is surprising what desserty aromas come naturally from mushrooms, especially in the bolete family.

For more photos, here is a slideshow of Mushroom Festival highlights:

A Slideshow..  https://picasaweb.google.com/114806860691793381895/EvenementChampignons2011LesJardinsSauvages

I think we can happily call it a year - and with more than a ton of wild Que mushrooms processed at the restaurant only, that’s enough mushroom for a while thank you.  That’s not counting the tons that went to market, only what passed through my hands.  A crazy amount of work. 

All summer/fall, we wonder what the hell we’re doing amidst the insanity, and every November 1^st or so, we pat ourselves on the back and bask in the glory for a few minutes, drink a bunch of mousseux and celebrate a feat accomplished, another year down, with the fresh sweet memories of all the estatic customers..

While it is slowing down at the Jean Talon Market too, we are still there, now only Thurs-Sun.  And we remain open on the weekends at La Table for regular business with our equally enticing but more varied 5-7 course menu..

From now on though the winter, apart from Saturdays, we open following the reservations.  Which is fine.  I have a backlog of orders for products and plats-sousvides, catering gigs, the inventory to do and all other ménage that has been put off, not to mention much less staff from here on in.. Slow down or not, we can’t take it too easy, just a little.  François is no longer picking mushrooms - besides some wild mustard greens foraged today, he is mostly busy cutting down trees and chopping wood these days.

But before we get into serious catch-up mode and production for the X-mas markets, we will be taking a day to roast a few pigs on our new spit machine and drink more wine.  To close the season, we are hosting a big staff/family party for the market and restaurant team, and all the people who helped us with the house (which is coming along, although still a construction zone, sigh).  Mechoui and Oysters and a buffet sans shrooms, Weehoo!.

Apart from that, I’m psyched to be back in my kitchen, cooking up anything and everything, not just mushrooms.  Can’t wait to make squash soup, some sausage, experiment with some bread..   Rabbit terrine today.. Soon, it will be tourtiere time! 

I love autumn and have my fingers crossed that this isn't the extent of our Indian summer.  Dreaming maybe, but I'm ready for winter too.  Bring it on, cuz that's when I really play.

The mushroom season has officially been a GREAT one!  Not that it’s over.  Many summer varieties came late, some didn’t come at all, and certain autumn ones showed up early.  Overall, it has been abundant and all at once - we’re in the thick of things now. The last week of August and all of September has been insane.  I’ve been processing 400lb a week. Needless to say, one mushroom or another appears in every dish on my menu.  In a couple of weeks, it will be 3 per dish.  Some poor mushroom hater came to eat last weekend thinking he was safe, opting to visit before the mushroom event.  Not an easy case, but I think I turned him around.

François arriving with cepe beauties

No records for big puffballs, but we got more than our share of mid-sized marvels- firm, white and pristine.  I love giving them an eggplant treatment, frying slices up in batter or baking with herbs and olive oil.  Layered in a lasagne or gratin or frittata, they perfume the whole dish.  This week, I made a flan with zucchini, eggplant, sea spinach and peppers with a puffball base, all lightly binded with some egg and a dusting of parmesan that pleased.  So rustic and very old school, yet beautiful and tasty.  It helped that I served it with a slice of rolled lamb belly, brined, smoked and cooked sous vide then crusted, and some yellow-foot and hedgehog mushroom-tomato ketchup.

I have never seen so many Bolets à Pieds Rouges, a variety I love for desserts but worry about running out of.  This year, it may very well make it into our mix, bonus. Same with the Bolets à Pieds Glabrescent.  It was an awesome run for Porcini too, but the autumn ones are by far the best; in summer, they are rarely worm-free.  I’ve never seen so many perfect little firm bouchons, and tall firm ones too with a long meaty tender stem (the best part when young).  It is a lucky year when you can eat cepe tartare for a month straight.

Yes, the red-mouthed boletes turn blue when cut!

local cepes

It was a magnificent season for Yellow-foot chanterelles, and I think they are my new ‘coup de coeur’.  So delicate, yet flavourful, pretty and delicious fresh or dried.  It took me years to ‘get’ this mushroom, and I don’t see why.  Initially, I wasn’t taken with the way they went limp, but now I don’t mind that, and they do retain a certain chew.  It has always been my go-to to candy, so cute and tasty when raisin like or made crispy, tastes like caramilk.  But it is equally dynamite in savoury dishes when you want a little mushroom enhancement without it taking over the dish, say with fish or in a soft salad..

chanterelles en tubes dans le sechoir

Amanites des Césars, trompettes de la mort – both always rare and hard work, but François was rewarded albeit with much time and mileage.  These mushrooms are priceless.  The first so buttery soft and unique, just gently sautéed; unfortunately there are never enough to go around. The latter is definitely one of François’ favourites (mine too!); he likes to make black omelettes, quite yummy.  I prefer them at dinner and like to put them up to stretch out all year – to use in our mix, to make fresh cheese with, to take a potato dish up a notch.  I say who needs truffle when you have trompettes – they have a similar complex earthy, musky aroma, but less stinky, more delicious - notes of cheese, artichoke, licorice, caramel, deep and lingering. 

 baby amanite des césars

The prized amanite in diff stages trompettes de la mort

Now, it’s Armillaires and Matsutake, Polypore Hen of the Woods occupying my fridge space and time.  More pickling this week!  We should have stakes in the mason jar business.

armillaire et matsutakepolupore poule des bois; hen of the woods

pholiote ridéagarics forestiers

The nasty ones were everywhere - a  good season for ALL shrooms!

toxic!

The first signs of autumn beauties are appearing, the last flight..  Bolets jaunes, cepes des meleize, pleurotes d’automne, coprins, lepiotes, tricolomes... Hoping the fall will live up to the summer! 

Lactaire Delicieux - in season now, so fragile!

One more month or so of dirty fingernails, mushroom fumes and dreams..

My Dentist moment – Flossing and Eating right

I happened on an enthusiastic dentist hygienist recently, an endearing chap from Columbia.  You could tell he was passionate about his job and took it seriously.  He was so careful and thorough, explaining every movement.  So often, I’m curious about what they’re up to exactly, what a given tool or paste is, but indisposed to ask with my mouth wide open or drugged up, my questions usually go unanswered.

Dentists and co. have always been telling us to floss.  They give you a new toothbrush and floss kit with every visit.  I go through the brushes but not all the floss.  I’ve always been an overzealous brusher and a slacker when it comes to flossing, perhaps because I have the right sort of teeth spacing that nothing gets stuck.  Flossing and coming up with nothing makes you feel like it’s no big deal and more inclined to skip a day here and there.  But anyway, this guy put an end to that. I have been flossing diligently since.  It wasn’t out of fear, I had a clean slate (mouth), but it was his intensity and passion – he struck a chord in me.  Imagine how frustrating it is for a dentist (or dental hygienist) to meet people who don’t take their teeth as seriously as they think they should?

It reminded me of myself going on about food and what I see and know to be important.  Say, when it comes to avoiding industrial ‘food’, buying real food from small producers with integrity, and simply cooking ‘real’ food day to day.  How can you not find the time to eat fruit and vegetables??  When people tell me they don’t have time to go to the market or cook, but manage to keep up with facebook, hockey, baseball, soccer, sitcoms, American Idol and etc, I’m flabbergasted. 

When I tell friends and home cooks how to make their life easier with Mise En Place (planning and prepping for several meals in advance) and how easy it is to eat well, and they continue to order in, buy and eat crap from the superstore, I don’t get it.  Knowing how simple it is to whip up a salad with every meal, or how easy composting is and how absolutely doable and delicious it is to eat fresh and local for most of the year, I sigh as I observe these tips falling on deaf ears because they are ‘ too much trouble’. 

When I point out how essential it is to favour naturally raised meats or rest your roast and you don’t do it; when you buy margarine instead of butter, those pre-peeled pseudo carrots or cheap olive oil or pre-ground pepper - not valuing and appreciating your food or farmers, it bugs me and I feel sorry for you.  No time?  C’mon, with all of the above, we’re talking five or ten minutes here and there.  It takes seconds to peel a carrot.  All to improve your life, make you happier and healthier, while better for the local economy and planet too.

All to say, I understood this guy.  And so yes, I can find the time to floss.  It’s for my own good down the line!  Like with taking the few extra minutes to shop right and cook for one’s well-being.  With food though, it’s even better, a win-win no-brainer - short term pleasure AND a long term investment!

Some of the things I learnt this June

Besides my stint at the University of Guelph earlier this month which was major brain-food, a lot of my June brainwaves came down to waking up to the mundane - those day to day revelatory details, occasionally mesmerizing when you’re dealing in nature and the restaurant business.

Mother Nature, she's just crazy

Living in the country for years now working with wild edibles, I am necessarily in touch with the weather and Mother Nature’s cycles and moods, but I am just starting to truly understand what a real adventure this is, and how much we are at her mercy.  Be it global climate change, or that these phenomena now meet business in my world, the singularity of each season and plant is striking.  Things don’t happen the same way anymore; the order is skewed, the plants are different depending on the weather and the ‘je ne sais quoi’, and you can’t help but feel like you’re stupid/learning all the time.  François who is so intuitive, closely in tune with his vegetation and the moons, is burdened by memory/history - so off kilter in his own way; I on the other hand, am always trying to understand SOMETHING/ANYTHING concrete.  Forget about it. You can’t plan for it. 

So this year, spring came late and summer came early.  For some spring greens, this was good; they were plush and allowed a slightly longer life before the foliage came in fully.  There was excessive water for others, and practically speaking, the swollen river cut us off from habitual harvest zones.  Then when summer hit, everything sprouted so fast, leaving us a small window for things like day lily sprouts or milkweed sprouts.  A few morels..  It looks like it’s already time for elderflower and cattails!  Why can’t they wait?  I have 100lb of daisy buds to pickle.  The day lily buds are peaking, meaning more bud pickling to follow.  François picked his first local cepe yesterday, the chanterelles are buttons.  In other parts of Quebec, many summer Oysters are ready, the wine caps (like Portobellos) are in full swing liking this cold spell.  And then there are the marine greens coming in, which I am forever ecstatic about..  I cannot not be psyched about summer abundance, but wow all the waiting, then all at once, so much to process..

As mother nature keeps me on my toes, I remain thankful for the recurring rhymes and rhythms that comfort and exhilarate - starting with the fiddleheads and the ramps, and on to the day lily, elderflower, berries, sea spinach coming into season one after the other or any which way.  Just reliving each arrival, weeks late or early, so familiar yet new, is something else.  I know that every year when I am reacquainted with a certain wild plant in season, and I cook it up in a myriad of ways, I get to know it better and I get better at what I do.  There are unexpected lightbulb moments, the kind that only come with time.  Time observing, time tasting, time dancing. 

Spring beauty really does taste like corn sprouts, I paired it with lobster and crinkleroot, and for the first time, served it alone with a little cold pressed canola.  And there is no way to put it up; like most of the spring greens, it is a pretty sprout you enjoy for a week or two a year and that’s it, period.  It didn’t take me long to love crinkleroot, but to figure out how to use both the root and the leaf to their max, how to put them up best took a few seasons.  I’ve got it down; crinkleroot really sings with tomatoes and with potatoes.  Sea spinach was an instant coup de Coeur (still my favourite), but sea parsley was just ok to me, not exciting until a couple of years ago; now I put it in everything.  To finish a soup or salsa, it is a major component of my versatile ‘chimichurri’ and gremolata. It took me years to really appreciate Elderflower, Labrador tea or salsify sprouts, even certain mushrooms; I had to spend some time with them, one week a year wasn’t enough.  Milkweed flower was a revelation last year in granites, syrups, etc; this year, something else will get my heart, new tricks added to my bag.

I have to say the most memorable thing about June (no matter who you talk to in the country) was the voracity of the mosquitos.  It is a BAD year - very, very difficult for François, our pickers, anyone gardening, even our screened in customers.. 

Which brings me to another thing I learnt, a good reminder in life in general..  Never get too high on your horse about anything.  Me, so eco-friendly and all about essential oils, I’ve reverted to Deet on bad days, sorry.

Fun and games at the University of Guelph…

Breaking out of one's bubble and hanging out with food scientists certainly fills the mind.  So many questions answered, so many possibilities that opened up (even if most of them cost too much on a practical level for us).  Basically, I got to pick some brains to help me be a better chef. Lucky me. Thanks to Foodday!

-I was reassured about my calculations regarding coumarin concentrations in sweetgrass and sweet clover (I am WELL under the worrying ppms, more relevant to the food additive/perfume industry who deal in straight chemicals, not plants).

-My hunch that the fiddlehead hoax is not about a toxin, but more likely a microbial issue was confirmed - so if well washed and cooked (from a non-contaminated source), no problem.  Apparently, a soak in a 5% brine before hand (osmotic shock) would allow me to stick with a shortened cooking time, maximizing colour and texture (omitting salting the cooking water).  Fiddleheads need salt anyway for taste.

-Although I’m well informed and have never had any problems, I got to the bottom of the nitty gritty when it comes to potential dangers with all of the types of products we make, ensuring me that I was adequately processing things (sometimes excessively actually), all to equip me against the MAPAQ who explain nothing.  I’m talking high acid (pickles and vinaigrettes) or high sugar (jams and syrups) here, nothing our grandmothers didn’t make without a worry in the world.  These tips will help me in determining which products to keep as we diminish the unmanageable number going.  If I were to upscale certain products, I might modify procedures, choose new jars etc. 

-Same with oils and drying, which I wanted to know more about in depth, given that the MAPAQ is wanting to crack down, but above all, I need to figure out if we can make it more efficient so that these could one day be profitable.  Was there a way we could improve yield with better extraction, all while following safety guidelines.. How many jars would I have to make??  How do I break that heat and acid stable emulsion boletes like to make?  Ok, this was not solved, but at least I know it’s more likely a lipid the cause and not a protein.

-They got me very curious about freeze-drying (we dry so many mushrooms and herbs and flowers), and I might get to try it out, but I doubt we can make this feasible since we don’t deal in quantities that justify such $$ technological intervention.  Not to mention that nature inconveniently gives us unpredictable amounts impossible to schedule, usually small amounts here and there.

-I was introduced to alternate extraction methods (when it comes to mushrooms or herbs), again not necessarily accessible.  But there were contacts offered, suggestions for teaming up with universities and flavour companies, avenues to explore.  Even keeping with traditional methods, I found out how to improve my process with respect to pressure cooking and tools for efficiency (reasonably priced lab tools like a centrifuge or separatory funnel that would be useful to me).

It was overall extremely stimulating to sit down with scientists.  They have so much insight and knowledge parallel to our world, simply inspiring.  Hilarious too.  Sometimes, I found myself explaining something so basic to a cook, but so foreign to a scientist not connected to his food or taste buds.  One suggestion when talking about food safety that killed me:  Add 25% alcohol to extract toxins and kill bacteria – hello, taste??  Denaturing said luxury food??  Good thing everything else he had to say reinforced the fact that he was very smart.  He obviously operates in a different universe.  He looks at plants in a way I don’t. 

At GFTC, I met with another gang much more used to dealing with food and food professionals who aren’t so professional; they were so generous and cool.  But wow is bacteria omnipresent in their minds; irradiation is normal procedure in their circles.  I guess that is the most important aspect of their job, as scientists counselling the food industry.  There is no doubt that someone needs to be guiding and regulating any Joe-Schmoe putting food on the market.  But I also realized that no matter how edifying this experience was, how much I know about food processing, the bottom line is that all I want to do is cook fresh food to be eaten immediately!  What the hell was I doing there?  I could be bringing a product to market, all subsidized.  No, I went to ask general questions.  I looked like an idiot artist - I am obviously not a hardcore business person.  I just want to be better at what I do all the time, whatever it is.  All knowledge helps, right.

Doesn't anyone want to work in the country?

Back to the restaurant business, my never-ending search for good staff taught me a few new lessons.  For one.. Waiters - can’t live with them; can’t live without them.

Good staff is scarce, especially in the country.  I better treat the ones I have extra special, and hope for the best when it comes to the rest.  Be it on the floor or in the kitchen, at the market or in the woods.  Not many people are willing to work hard and take pride in the little things anymore.

Waiter wise, I’ve given up on the normal demands for a restaurant like ours: someone with restaurant experience in the gastronomy realm, bilingual, flexible, with a love of nature and wild edibles.  Now, I’m looking for someone who is reasonably presentable and good with the public, into what we’re doing and willing to learn the rest.  What kills me is that candidates with no experience, pertinent knowledge or obvious talent expect a starting salary superior to mine.  I have no choice but to take what I can get here, accept that reality and make the most of it.  

I keep telling myself this is one of those things I chose to accept with this country gig.  You can’t have it all.  Take the good with the bad.  I would not be happier with a big, talented brigade in a big, high stress operation making more to spend more with less quality of life.  To be able to beat to my own drum and do the food I want at Les Jardins Sauvages, I sometimes have to cover for waiters, serve, peel potatoes and do my own dishes.  Answer the phone, clean, weed, fix things and be everywhere when I just want to be in the kitchen.  I do like weeding more than waitressing though.  I find it hard to have my head in the dining room and in the kitchen at the same time..

Such is life in St-Roch de l’Achigan.  An abundance of wild edibles and good produce, a paradise for a cook, a challenge for a business.  Always so much to learn, so many possibilities.  One day, I might actually get around to the high tech improvements now on my radar or the solar cooker on my ‘to do list’, maybe even achieve my dream of being able to hole up in my kitchen.. If ever I nail enough solid employees.

I’m not holding my breath.  But going into July, I feel wiser and ready to face the circus.  With everything blooming and sprouting, I can only jump in and go with the flow. 

For the record, I do still think I have the best job in the world.

Spring has finally sprung!  Yay. 

Believe it or not, two weeks ago, there were still patches of snow in the woods.  Even a couple of days ago while François was scouting his first fiddleheads in swampland, there wasn’t much happening in the forest.  But in no time, the telltale whiff of garlic and crinkleroot came wafting above that of fresh dirt as I strolled down the path to the kitchen.  That day, I knew François was out there somewhere on his hands and knees if he wasn’t in his bootsuit chasing fiddleheads..  

Venturing out back, and then to the neighbouring maple grove, sure enough, there were promising tufts of green everywhere.. Ramp leaves shooting up in gangs, alongside a smattering of baby trout lily, the odd cluster of fiddleheads, and striking (but inedible) trilles.  Brushing aside the dead leaves around the ramps, there was lots more to be found – the first  crinkleroot, wild ginger, more ramps, ulvulaire, spring beauty and more..

trout lilyspring beauty

Right around the table champêtre, the orpin (live forever) is now popping up, the dandelion is in full force, still baby primo and actually edible this year (all the rain?), and there’s the miniature first daisy, my ‘coup de coeur’.  Violet, bee balm and garlic mustard are showing signs of life, edible leaves soon, which means the linden, the flowers, and the next slideshow is not so far off.  Spring was late, but I bet summer will not be.  Even if it snowed in the Laurentians last night.

ail des bois

orpin; live forever

dandelion

In any case, within days, there will be a true bounty of spring greens, fixings for a meslun that explodes with flavour – providing that jolt of fresh, assertive green vitamin crunch our bodies crave after a long winter.  A Green flavour boost that imported Romaine cannot deliver.

For the month of May, this forest is our pantry, and salad has to be on the menu. It is François’ favourite time of year because of the fiddlehead tradition, but also for the abundance of different edibles all growing together.  Nothing beats the smell of the woods at this time of year either.  It’s not all about mushrooms after all. 

Of course, there is the squadron of female pickers who show up in spring, those patient enough to do the meticulous hand work that the sprouts and flowers demand. So different from the hardy gang of rough and tough beer swilling fiddlehead pickers.  And trust me, this season, you have to be built strong to be doing fiddleheads, a girl my size would be swept away with the swollen river getting to the sweet spots.  François skirts back and forth, the king of fiddleheads and part of the motley crew, but equally adept and at peace with the girls clipping and coddling roots and shoots, in there with his deceptively delicate man hands and feminine sensibility.  It is in Spring that I see his most tender side, and his fiercest too, in terms of stamina.  Out foraging in the rain, to and fro from the market, washing all those fiddleheads at the end of every long day... 

It is busy yes, but smooth splendor for two weeks at least..  Picking in the same few spots.  Silence apart from chirping birds. When the foliage comes in, all this dies and we move on.  Then other things arrive in season, but dispersed, unpredictable, one thing at a time all over the place, so much prospecting, running around the province...  A whole new kind of Hectic.  Mushrooms are much more complicated still.

I wish I could seize a spring moment, capture it fully, remember it perfectly all year.. More than a picture or caption or singular thought, but that magical fresh feeling - the energy and excitement inhabiting everyone; the scents, the tastes, and hopes for the season; the invigorating comfort of communing with nature again, seeing and eating green again. 

From one squat stance, reaching in all directions, with a few careful handfuls, you have the makings of a tableau or a lunch.  With a half dozen plants, you have a combination of contrasting textures, notes of sweet to offset the pleasantly bitter, as well as a spectrum of fruity, floral, green and peppery aromas.. Ultimately a salad that is exciting for the palate, soul and body, loaded with iron, vitamins, minerals protein and antioxidants.. that tastes like spring!

ulvulaire

ox-eye daisy

Trout lily(cantaloupe), live-forever (snow peas), daisy (sweet licorice), Dandelion (bitter), Ulvulaire (walnut), crinkleroot leaves (mustard and horseradish), and tender Spring beauty (finesse)..

All you need is a good cold-pressed oil and some salt for absolute deliciousness.  As a side, that’s fine, but these greens can definitely stand up to a  punchy vinaigrette too.  A touch of sweet to counter the bitter/astringent is often a good idea.  I make a wild ‘chimichurri’ that works well, as does a wild berry vinaigrette, or aged balsamic or sherry vinegar based vinaigrette.  I like to chop up some ramp leaves and any fresh herbs that are kicking around, especially dill, parsley and chives.  Scallions are essential.  Nut oil or nuts also make a good addition.  Meat, meat drippings and fat all marry well, softening the wild greens, a marriage made in heaven.  The smallest hit of umami in the form of bacon, smoked duck or cheese shavings will do the trick, taking healthy green salad to full-on gourmet entrée.  Topped with shrimp or grilled meat, you have dinner. 

Day lily sprouts can be thrown in too, but I like to treat them as a vegetable on their own– delicately floral and leek like, with a hint of truffle – delicious sliced thin and served raw in a light vinaigrette, or simply wilted in beurre montée.  With fish, poultry, mushrooms..

day lily shoots

Growing in the same woodland, scattered among the spring greens are two precious roots, easily identified by their leaves at this time of year.  Feeling down the stem, a pencil thin root is revealed, linked to a larger network underground, quite extensive depending on the age.  We only snap off the first link and sprout, leaving the rest behind, which seems to stimulate the plant if anything.  For the record, François does not rip out any plants by the roots.  Across the board, we have a healthy supply every year in the same locations François has been tending to for 10-40 years. 

First there’s François’ family favourite (and now mine too) - Crinkleroot.. With its hearty bite of mustard-meets-horseradish, it is nutty and peppery, very arugula like; both the greens and the roots are widely used in my kitchen.. In chopped salads, sandwiches, condiments and sauces, with tomatoes, cheese, seafood and steak.

crinkleroot

Then there is Wild Ginger- pungent like ginger-root but incredibly aromatic, floral and fresh smelling, exactly like the flavour of soap gum (Thrills), but cleaner, more natural tasting.  Sounds gross maybe, an acquired taste not unlike coriander or saffron, but it is amazing to cook with in both savoury and sweet, when keeping it subtle.  I use it fresh, I pickle it, I make it into mustard, paste, syrup and sugar – all handy ingredients to add wild ginger zing to preparations in different ways year-round.  This week it’s in an Asian inspired vinaigrette for shrimp and fiddlehead salad; next week it will be with chocolate in dessert

wild ginger

Of course, among the spring things, I cannot not mention fiddleheads more than in passing.  A week into the season, we have a thousand pounds in our cooler, with thousands to come in still. We have a ton on the property, but it is a shitload of work.  François was one of the first to put these on the market and takes great pride in it.  I will be serving them in a myriad of ways fresh for weeks to come.  Some will get put up, some pickled, most sold at the market.

I prefer them cooked and served hot with bacon or something meaty, but early season, I am happy to eat them in salads with some crunch.  After washing them well, I blanch them for 5 min in lots of water and either reheat to serve warm or toss in vinaigrette.

So many people think fiddleheads are touchy or dangerous.  The Cdn and Que governments say you should cook them for 15 minutes or 10-12 by steam due to some unidentified toxin.  No one seems to know what this toxin is but affirm that it is water solvent.  Yet other govt agencies have tested fiddleheads and not found any inherent toxin even raw.  All cases of stomach upsets (very few) came from uncooked fiddleheads from unknown sources.  (Probably polluted and improperly washed and cooked). We all agree that they should be cooked (they aren’t good raw anyway).  To be safe, just wash well, use lots of water, and cook them through, no straight sauteeing.  These guidelines seem excessive, but I suppose they are conservative to protect every idiot, scenario and fiddlehead out there.  Personally, I believe 5 minutes in lots of water is sufficient with fresh fiddleheads from a reliable source. In previous years, I decided that with small batches when I wanted to conserve the most green and crunch, blanching twice for less total time optimized color, texture with respect to maximum cooking and water flushing.  But now, I don’t bother.  I don’t care about ‘aldente green’ like I used to.  For flavour, more is better with fiddleheads..  But quand même, not 15 min!

lugging in the mother load (fiddleheads) 

My Greek Easter Soup with Lamb Lungs

Every time I get a lamb from Genevieve et Nathalie (L’Agno et le Lapin in St-Julienne), I break it down and use just about everything nose to tail style.  The gigots get separated from the rack, the flanks go to belly/ bacon, the shoulder divided into roasting and braising muscles, the offal put aside for terrines or a mixed grill.  The tongue and cheeks and heart are so small, barely more than a snack for the cooks.  Bones and miscellaneous bits go into the stock.  I even keep some of the fat for sausage or petit sale since this young lamb fat is mild tasting even buttery with the babies.  Not crazy about the liver, I still manage to make a decent paté that is quite appreciated by lamb and liver lovers.  But I never knew what to do with the lungs.  So I vacuum packed and froze them.  With a set of lungs per lamb, they have accumulated.  Then this week, Genevieve gave me a bag of lungs that she had been collecting for a European customer who disappeared.  She didn’t know what to do with them either.

Not particularly inspired by this organ, I now had no choice but to get creative and tackle a recipe or two.  With the season starting, I need the freezer space and it just seemed wrong to throw fifteen pounds of protein into the trash.

I remember a fellow cook of Greek heritage telling me they made soup with it on Easter.  Makes sense since they like to roast a whole lamb on a spit and historically let nothing go to waste, giving them something to snack on in the meantime.

With Easter around the corner, I looked it up – Mageiritsa; I was feeling gung ho.  I liked the idea of onions, lemon and dill (always good), but didn’t want eggs in there.  A quick internet search told me that there existed all kinds of lung dishes.  In India and Pakistan, they made lung curries.  There’s the Scottish haggis, Zuppa du Polmore in Italy, German sour lung soup, spicy Asian noodle dishes.  In fact, most countries have a traditional lung recipe; apparently it is only in North America that we shun it, like most offal.  Undoubtedly because the average family (or restaurant) here is far down on the food chain, numerous degrees of separation from the animal, nor living any real necessity of frugally making the most of every morsel.

When I think lamb, I think spices – cumin, fennel, mustard, red pepper..  Or herbs like thyme and rosemary, tangy condiments like preserved lemon and olives. This brainstorming had me salivating and eager to get started on my own Easter soup - a mix of the various recipes I had seen, a dash of my own style and a lot of what was in my fridge.

I had already put the lungs in a light brine to degorge (standard procedure for many variety meats), giving me a night to figure out what to do with them.  I saw that I had to sous-vide the fresh ones first to rid them of the air so that they wouldn’t float.  This turned them from a bright pinkish-red to purple. Hmm.

The next day, I threw them into some boiling water and simmered for 15 minutes to blanch and firm them up so that I could work them.  Most of the recipes I had seen started this way, and it seemed right given the spongey texture (think sweetbreads or brains or testicles).  Slicing the lobes open, I felt like I should remove the tough looking ducts and vessels, at least in large part.  Then I cut them up and threw them into a sauté with onions and bacon fat (when in doubt, add bacon!).  I added garlic and spices: thyme, bay, a hot pepper, some panch foran and a lemon wedge.  I deglazed with some white wine, added some tomato and lamb stock and put it on a very slow simmer.  Meanwhile, I put on some basmati rice to cook on the side with a clove, a bay leave, and black pepper, to add later.  I had some crunchy Jerusalem artichoke from a sous-vide experiment that I diced up to mix in near the end.  Sea parsley pesto kicking around - perfect.  I was psyched.

Soon enough, the kitchen smelled heavenly, but the lung pieces didn’t seem to be changing in the cooking process.  Maybe my heat was too low; I wanted them to become tender, but was fearing they would turn to shoe leather.  After an hour, even two, I wasn’t thrilled with the texture or the taste of the lung, although the broth was incredible. I reasoned that I should be patient.  There was no way I was giving up at this point.

Some time later, the texture had improved, going from tough and springy to tender with bite, like a properly cooked gizzard or heart.  But the taste wasn’t going anywhere – it tasted like a washed out lamb heart, with a touch of liver.  Discouraged, I started pumping up the mix- adding gremolata, salt, crinkleroot, a pinch of sugar, a touch of good red wine vinegar.  The broth tasted kick ass, there was still hope.  I sautéed swiss chard with garlic and threw that in with the rice and sunchokes.  I was determined to make something good of this.  Not to serve at the restaurant or sell, but at least for family and friends, something we would be happy to pull out of the freezer for a quick meal.  By now, I was up to 20+ litres of the stuff, not to mention a huge pile of dishes.  In the space of 12 hours, my enthusiasm had morphed into tempered frustration, relentless tampering, and a profound need to come out on top.

At 2am, I took it off the stove, finished with a tweak or two, some fresh herbs and called it a night.  To my utter disappointment, it was just ok.  I mean definitely edible, even surprising maybe for an average taster, but not what I had worked it up to be in my mind, with all the attention and love I invested.  I don't remember ever having such a hard time making something delicious.  Honestly.  Humbling.  But also, it makes me wonder about how far I want to push this whole nose to tail thing. 

Ordering whole carcasses is better for the producer; it’s the way it should be, and of course, we have to make the most of every ingredient for minimum waste, economically and ethically. But there does seem to be a sensible limit to the nose to tail thing when you aren’t starving to death.  I am quite sure that my customers would rather eat just about anything else even if I mastered the lung perfectly.  I’ve had a hard enough time getting them to try tongue, cheeks and sweetbreads; even rabbit, not to mention all the wild stuff. 

It is natural for me with all of the above ingredients because I love them myself and am confident that anybody reticent would be won over once they tasted. When it comes to lamb liver, kidneys and lung, I am not so sure.  I don’t dig lamb organ meats.  And in the end, I want to make food that makes people happy, I don’t need to challenge them across the board.  I need to more than believe in what I am making and serving – on a hedonistic level.

That said, I have not thrown in the towel.  I will treat my next lungs confit style.  Gizzards shine this way, and I think the lung once blanched and cut up would work similarly.  If confit treatment doesn’t work, then nothing will.  And if I ditch the lung thereafter, then so be it.  I tell myself that so many other chefs just order loins and chops and bones with no bother.  The reality is that most of the time when you work a less noble cut or make use of the ‘scraps’, those transformed scraps end up costing the same as ready filet in labour cost.  Which is fine.  The tough cuts and most of the bits are better anyway.  Although more expensive, ordering whole carcasses from a local producer, you get a fresher, better (and tracible) product.  The crazy thing is that these farmers aren’t even charging enough.  Because of the industrial system, people unfortunately think that cheap meat is normal. 

I wish I could pay my lamb producer more than I do, which is already twice (or more) what most restaurants pay for their meat.  But I then, I would have to charge my customers more, and I already don't charge what I should.  As they struggle to make a living, I struggle to come into my cost buying their lamb, so I certainly want to make the most of it.  Making something spectacular with the lungs would have been a real triumph and added value - for me, for them.

My Easter soup was a work of love, not a total success in my mind, but who knows.  I will wait and see what my guinea pigs have to say.