soupnancy

October 24, 2007

Jo the stuffer

 

Chantale and Jo on a roll

sanglichon sausage with black trumpets and cèpe gelée

having fun with sausageI love sausage. I’ve never been a huge meat eater, but I can’t live without all the derivatives, like broth and sauce, the drippings of a roast or sauté, the enticing aromas of a braise, and of course, the nasty bits that make SAUSAGE.

There is something so sexy about charcuterie - the salting, the curing, the occasional smoke, the tactile kneading, stuffing and filling, the tease of waiting for the final result.. There’s the thrill associated with the alchemy at play in the transformation of humble scraps into something exquisite.

Apart from some basic rules you must follow, there’s a major dose of magic and mystery in the process, from finding the proper ratio of flesh to fat to seasonings, to the right temperature and humidity in order to favour the right enzymes, bacteria and molds. You can delve into the romance and history of a regional specialty and try to recreate a traditional recipe, or you can go commando and be as creative as you dare. When it works – wow. At its best, you are rewarded with beautiful firm links to hold and behold that deliver a heady, complex taste you can savour for weeks, or even months. A stash of charcuterie allows you to throw together a gourmet snack or meal in a heartbeat. There’s nothing like a bit of pancetta or chorizo to make a fad dish sing.

I would choose sausage and all its cousins over filet mignon any day. There are all the magnificent hams like Proscuitto di Parma or Serrano (that merit a love-in of their own), patés, terrines and mousses. Strictly speaking sausage, there’s chorizo, merguez, saucisson sec of all kinds (calabrese, rosette, etc.), there’s mortadella, and andouille in all its versions. Come to think of it, I have never tasted a ham or sausage I didn’t like, except for a low-fat lamb-liver concoction once.

I’ve always been drawn to store fronts where sausages dangle, to cold buffets, to antipasto plates, and to sausage books. I find perusing mouth-watering pictures of sparkling sausage and the detailed technique involved incredibly titillating.

And I’ve always wanted to be invited to a sausage party (I’ve only heard of them), but then again, the cleanliness - hygiene aspect, or lack of control thereof, with hoards of people, drinks flowing, a lack of space, and hence possible contamination (all very important considerations in the making of sausage) would probably bad buzz me..

Over the course of my life as a chef, I’ve made sausage here and there - on the job, experimenting at home, I’ve even taken a course.. So, if you don’t count the loose variety, I’ve made sausage on average once or twice a year for 10 odd years. They’ve always turned out, but I’m hardly an expert, which is probably why the urge strikes any chance I think I can make the time, when challenge is beckoning.

So with my last sausage escapade a fading memory, some sanglichon to use up, a mushroom dinner event on the horizon, and a lot of energy coursing through my veins, I felt it was time to make sausage again.

I had forgotten how fun it could be. And how stressful it could be. It didn’t help that I planned it rather poorly, putting 10kg of meat to cure the day before a chaotic schedule with 50 customers booked (big for our shoebox of a resto) ..

The following day, I had no choice, the meat was waiting, and besides, I had extra staff with a stagiare on hand - no problem.

I gathered my meat (several shoulders), some scraps and fat back, cut them up into cubes and put them to cure separately. The rule is 15-20g of kosher salt per kg, with 1-2g of nitrate salt, 5g of seasonings.. Your fat ratio should be at least 30% and you have to make sure you keep your meat is cold. 4C is the upper limit, so -4C (half frozen) is a good place to start, with an ice bath to catch your finished ground meat or at least a quick chill between steps. The remaining specifics vary according to the kind of sausage. Some absolutely require nitrite salt (if they are not cooked), some are seasoned more if served cold, some are ground once or twice or even puréed and bound with an emulsifier. Some are cured and dried, others are cured, smoked and dried, and the simplest are just made fresh and cooked. There are as many recipes for sausage as for stew.. Following a recipe is a good idea, although I can’t seem to do it. A book I recommend is Ruhlman’s recent ‘Charcuterie’ for it’s straight forward explanations and gorgeous photos; it seems to be a good overview of the sausage world using slightly more seasoning than the traditional European recipes I am used to.

Anyhow, so I started by making a reduction of shallots, garlic and red wine, added my spices and mixed them in with the salt and meat. I put the fat in the freezer, my meat in our very cold walk-in, figuring that the next day, I would have an easy time of ensuring my overall mixture would be properly chilled. On the day, I assembled my wet seasonings: more wine, mustard, my sautéed mushrooms. We put the meat through the grinder (on medium) once, added the mushrooms and put it through again. Then we beat it vigorously with the wet seasonings, chilled it some more and started casing (hog’s casings).

That’s when the real fun started – the sausage talk.. It happens naturally as a couple of people start getting their latex covered hands dirty, digging into raw meat, stuffing, receiving and twisting. It takes communication and complicity between the stuffer and catcher for success, and it’s even more fun if a few others are there on the sidelines coaching and being vocal spectators. I was directing the show in all seriousness, hopping in from time to time making sure the kids (Jo, Chantale and Sylvain) got it right, but I couldn’t help but get caught up in the silliness of it all as everyone cracked up at what I was saying, shouting out rebuttal. When you’re doing sausage, the discourse inevitably turns juvenile, at times crude; in fact it was side-splittingly funny for hours.. ‘No, slower, faster, hold it tight, loosen up, you’re too nervous, relax, pay attention, stop thinking too much, feel it, be gentle, you’re going too fast, woah that’s big and hard, wait it’s overflowing, ok now you’ve got it, go go – we’re on a roll, you’re good, we’re good, are you getting tired, don’t stop now we’re almost there..’ You can imagine the rest. In French, it’s much better. It got even juicier with the second batch late at night after service when the wine was flowing.. I couldn’t help but chuckle at customers who might be overhearing the kitchen antics not seeing what was actually going on. It certainly sounded like we were doing a lot more than just making sausage and cleaning up.

The final outcome of our tryst besides a good time: 10kg of less than perfect sausage, and very expensive sausage at that when you count the food cost and labour. The seasoning was spot on though, I couldn’t be happier with that. It was the texture that was disappointing; it was on the dry side. I should have mixed in pork instead of going with straight sanglichon, more fat surely wouldn’t have hurt. Maybe I should have used more liquid and beat it more or used an emulsifier binder, some powdered milk or something. I had always had stellar results before when I was being less meticulous (and probably less cocky too).

Oh well, it was worth it. But now, I can’t wait to go again. This time, I’ll pick a rainy day and use more fat. And I’ll definitely make a party of it, sausage calls for it.

July 16, 2007

Foie gras

Amidst my busy week in nature, I did manage one day to touch down on planet-city-earth, and catch some buzz. I found that Bill was the new Gazette wine critic (Way to go,Bill!), that Toque got the rave review they deserve in the Gazette, and that Daniel Vézina plans on opening a restaurant in Montreal soon…

And then there was the foie gras scandal. I received numerous emails on the matter, and although I weighed in when the debate was on in Chicago , I can’t help but pick up again and put in my two cents..

The articles in question:

- Group claims ducks abused at Quebec company http://www.ctv.ca/servlet/ArticleNews/story/CTVNews/20070710/foie_gras_070710?s_name=&no_ads=

- Activists go undercover to curb public's appetite for foie gras in Quebec , Globe and Mail, by INGRID PERITZ, July 11, 2007

I've never used this foie producer in particular and so I can’t say much about the operation and whether they are negligent or not. However, I think we would all agree that the alleged aggression depicted is senseless and unacceptable. No one would condone decapitating, kicking and asphyxiating ducks in that manner. Even the most unsympathetic of meat eaters agree that it only makes sense to treat the animals we raise for meat in a humane way, for the quality of the meat if anything. I find it hard to believe, and highly doubt that it represents the industry as a whole. Especially after viewing the debate last year in the States, I suspect that again, much of the same oversimplification and sensationalism is at play in the portrayal of the duck liver business here. Certainly tagging the industry as a whole in Quebec as only a brutal horror is unfair.

The fact that the company in question is the biggest in Quebec probably has something to do with it, given that BIG usually means a lack of care and quality control, with a focus on production and the bottom line, very different from a SMALL artisanal production. Sure enough, since the outcry, some smaller artisanal producers have spoken up and invited the media to visit. Print that story please.

Excessive violence aside, the making of foie gras is controversial in itself. Many people are grossed out by the forcefeeding of the ducks (gavage) and find it cruel, making the foie gras business an easy target for activists. Animal rights groups have succeeded in banning the production and sale of foie gras in several states.

But, there is much about ducks that the general urban public doesn’t understand. Ducks are of a unique, magnificent design physically and aerodynamically; they are perfectly programmed to suit their way of life, and accordingly have a very special kind of liver. Ducks naturally gorge themselves before migration in the wild. In other words, an enlarged liver for a duck is not a sick liver as it would be in our case. There is no doubt that the human tradition of foie gras exploits this ability of theirs, but it really isn't as unethical as it appears on the surface; its something we’ve been doing for thousands of years, and hardly worse than many of the other practices used in providing us with meat and other treats.

That doesn’t make it right. As I have said before, I am not a huge foie gras fan and I might one day easily accept that this is not something we collectively find reasonable to support in modern times. I already rarely serve it, only doing so at the special request of a customer. I find it completely understandable that someone might be turned off by foie and choose not to eat it, like I respect the decisions of vegetarians around me to shun meat or dairy.

Like with cigarette smoking, eating foie gras or maybe eating meat altogether, could easily go the way of the do-do as we evolve as a society. And fine. But as with smoking, I don’t personally think we need legislation. If people don’t want to buy it, the providers of the ‘evil’ stuff will eventually stop making it. Then again, if the majority of the population wants anti-foie laws because it will force change faster, than I accept that. In the meantime, I just think we have bigger fish to fry.

Mainly, I just wish people would wake up to the big picture. We need to get our priorities straight. Everyone should look in their own fridge, stop buying feedlot beef from Cargyll (Costco) and mass produced chicken breasts from big chains before taking to the streets and worrying about the comparatively small amount of seal or foie gras being eaten. Factory farming is a much larger scale problem on so many levels (environment, economic impact, public health and safety, etc.) than foie gras. Big industry keeps the true story and the ugly reality of what most North Americans eat on a daily basis carefully hidden away. Investigative journalists work full time trying to get a peek, and still few get the real scoop. But if they could see, most people would be equally, if not more horrified by what goes on behind the closed doors of major agribusiness which fills their shopping carts.

Because it is not in our face when we buy a pristinely packaged chicken breast, and we aren’t killing the creature ourselves, are we relieved of the responsibility inherent? It is much easier to turn a blind eye to the ways of the almighty government subsidized agri-giant far away, and target the small foie gras producer. Most often, this is a poor guy honestly and proudly carrying out a family old tradition serving familiar customers who are knowingly buying a specialty product they value. Not to mention that foie gras is a special occasion type of dish eaten once and a while by a small handful of the population, and therefore a miniature piece of the food pie.

It is fast food and factory meat that is making us fat and unhealthy, that is devastating our environment with its reliance on corn and petrol , that is moving the economy, making a few rich while most get poorer, that is suffocating the family farm and destroying communities; it is not foie gras.

Like the manipulative campaign against the Innus' seal hunt using old, fake footage, this misinformed overly dramatic type of activism innerves me. It is ignorant and hypocritical. People far removed from their food in cities usually have a far greater ecological footprint than the duck farmer or hunter and fisherman, who have a close relationship with nature and hence an enormous respect for it. We need to give them more credit and judge second.

I also think we all have to take a step back and chill out in general. First of all, nothing is black and white, there are always many sides to a story. We shouldn’t be too quick to turn our back on history and tradition, which sometimes lands us in a mess – think farming methods and the environment. Also, we must acknowledge the fact that we all have our differences and particular things close to our heart that we want to fight for that perhaps don’t matter to others. Duck fat, so apparently horrible to some, is a beautiful thing to me, and actually a much more natural fat that we seem well disposed to digest after centuries of an omnivorous diet often heavy on fatty meat than say the trans fat in a muffin you might pick up at Starbucks. At Starbucks, where they also serve ‘un’ fair trade coffee to all kinds daily, among them self-righteous activists. It so happens that I care more about country-sides of people being exploited for a major commodity like coffee than a few ducks. Or how about the latest fashions in clothes so dear to some heavy on petrol based synthetics or cotton that mortgages the pesticide soaked lives of poor workers in the third world? Again, I care more about people than ducks, and so cotton can gross me out more than foie gras.

Still, I regularly make an effort to refrain from harshly judging lifestyles I don’t necessarily understand, be it the wearing of cotton, or of a burka, or being a Mormon, or eating processed food, or having kids, or smoking pot, or wearing patchouli, or being a swinger, or listening to rap, or buying tons of shoes, or commuting hours on a daily basis, or redecorating your house every year, or driving a loud, stinky motorcycle. Some of these lifestyle choices puzzle me, even may offend me at times, but I suck it up. Because I know I’m not perfect either, and that there is always more to any person or image than the thing that bothers me.

We have to be careful when messing with someone else’s livelihood. As we grapple with what we want as a society, we need to respect one another while promoting the freedom of expression. Let the animal huggers march, let the foie gras industry stand up to them and let the other people decide. We sometimes need a dose of activism or extremism to get the ball rolling. I’m all for it, as long as it leads to a good debate, and that a bunch of other issues come to surface. In this case, I hope people start paying more attention to their food and where it comes from. I just don’t want the foie gras producers to get squashed for nothing (not to mention Quebeckers losing their favoured X-mas treat) in a sea of mediatic nonsense with Brigitte Bardots and Madonnas and bloody pictures distracting people from what could be a productive discussion. I hope that the public attention span outlasts the image of a fat duck.

pan-seared foie gras
Quail stuffed with sausage, boletus and foie gras
Mousse de foie with wild ginger, smoked duck and daisy salad

July 16, 2007-07-16

Foraging and fishing in the Mauricie

determined to get some trout

bolet insigne

petite salsapareille

baby bolet orangé
yellow boletus patch

Labrador tea

 

 

 

 

This was a week of foraging and fishing in Northern Québec , and most importantly, our first significant mushroom finds. We were on a half-work, half-play excursion to the Triton Fish and Game Club, a hunting and fishing lodge with a prestigious history deep in the woods north of La Tuque. www.seigneriedutriton.com François was there to show the staff what was edible in the surrounding forests, I was there to give cooking tips, to document it all, and mostly to have a good time. I came back with a zillion bug bites, a good tan, several lingering taste memories and a piece of mind. There’s nothing like the deep woods to calm a soupnancy down. The great thing about the Triton is the staff, who will fry up or transform your trout into tartare lakeside or in the dining room that night. The only problem was I didn’t catch any fish. Meanwhile there was a European kid who caught 17 in one morning, the little punk. Happily, a lady who had seen me on TV was generous enough to share her catch with me, so I got my tartare studded with capers, coarsely chopped onions, lemon and olive oil, so simple so f-ing good. Another gustatory highlight was the fabulous Serrano style ham the house makes that we ate night after night with onion jam and boletus oil and au naturel for breakfast.

Black raspberries, chanterelles and cèpes, corn

But the best part of our trip were the mushroom sightings. We came across whacks of boletus of all kinds, and then came back home to some beautiful young chanterelles in our backyard. A couple of cèpes (porcini) made an appearance too, so now, we’re primed. Thanks to the rain and a good amount of sun, this growing season is powering along, fruitful and in balance, everything is good. The farmers are rejoicing, and when the cultivated stuff is going well, you know the weeds are doing even better.

Our dehydrator is working hard, and every hot/dry nook and cranny is being used to dry something, oven space is precious. Many plants are flowering so we’ve got elderberry flower, sweet clover flower, common yarrow and milkweed flower drying, all for our tisane. The first black raspberries are out and so the wild blueberries and raspberries won’t be far behind. This is the one time of year when I find myself with too much great stuff - I want to put it all on the menu, but I only have five courses a night. It’s a struggle to keep my menu from turning into a convoluted mess of too many crazy sounding (and tasting) things. Even though I do believe that restraint is the quality of a truly good cook, at this time of year, minimalism does not come naturally to me. It hurts me to see perfect salsify, milkweed broccoli, live-forever and day lily buds sitting untouched in my cooler because I’m all enchanted with the newest of the new, the marine greens, the many flowers, the little peas, the corn, the chanterelles, the baby zucchini, the purselane.. I’ve got some beautiful scallops this week to accompany my sea spinach, and organic duck from a producer nearby to try, perfect for the corn and chanterelles. I think I will drop the strawberry rhubarb thing and move into the raspberry- blueberry- elderberry realm for my dessert. And I’ve got a variety of baby veg coming in from a local farmer to go alongside all the wild stuff - c’est l’abondance!

elderberry flower

fragrant milkweed flower

 

 

 

 

 

 

Scallop, sea spinach, tomato crinkleroot emulsion

 
eel brandade, smoked salmon, sea asparagus and pickled buds
mousse deux chocolats et thé des bois, berries

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

June 24, 2007

cattails
arroche de mer/sea spinach
sea asparagus popping up in the marshesSummer is here, both officially and on the front. The bugs have become unbearable, the kitchen heat is intense, and we can't keep up.  Everything is flowering and sprouting out of control, and so in our mission to harvest all of nature's  treasures, the sprint is on.     

François showing my family how to eat a cattail

 

 

 

The St-Jean Baptiste parties and the arrival of sweet Québec strawberries are other sure signs of summer. Summer is many things to many people: for some it’s chill time; for others, like most of us in the business of food, its high season juice time. In the city, its festival season and BBQ season; in the country, it’s all about bon-fires, fishing and hiking or frolicking lake-side.

But more than anything for us, summer means marine greens. So, we decided it was time to take off and see to them before the

mushroom madness took hold. We had cattails, daisy, clover flower and elderberry to deal with, but first things first. Off we went for a week of foraging for our gold, this time not in the forest, but by the water. I was following François on what he thought would be a prospecting run along the shores of the St-Lawrence out towards Gaspé. He especially wanted to see what was what in the Lower St-Lawrence. This is one of our favourite parts of the province, in large part because of the wealth of wild edible greens, but also because it’s so old, historic, enchanting, and under-appreciated. Having spent so much time here in the past, François also knows the shoreline like the back of his hand.

The lilacs were in bloom, weeks behind us, yet there was an abundance of other plants out ahead of time. Prospecting quickly turned into picking. The weather was nice, the local businesses were just getting into gear for the season; there was an energy in the air, but it was still serenely peaceful – the calm before the storm, maybe. We worked hard, and settled back to our camp at night with a bunch of local treasures for a rewarding feast.

In this neck of the woods, that means fresh and smoked fish, all the stuff we picked (sea greens like sea spinach, sea asparagus and sea parsley) and good bread. There is a terrific local bakery in Kamouraska that is worth the trip alone (Boulangerie Niemand ). We were equally seduced by this little café/bistro next door that serves sandwiches, salads and light meals with organic and local produce (Le Café du Clocher). They are on the waterfront, the food is amazing with lively fresh flavours, the service attentive and authentic; on a beautiful day, you couldn’t ask for much more. We visited a few local fish mongers afterwards, got our stash of smoked eel from Les Pécheries Ouellet, and then popped into the famous La Quai des Bulles to pick up a few delicious soap gifts. Unexpectedly, we spent hours there chatting with the owners and visited their production room which strangely resembled a kitchen, where they concoct their natural soaps. Scents of flowers, herbs and almond oil lingered in the air mixers and pots and pans and other typical kitchen implements were scattered about, as well as many ingredients that are in fact edible. But here, the final product is soap beautiful enough to eat.

The whole trip was so fun and soulfully nourishing, we almost stayed put. You see, we saw a waterfront house/auberge for sale and got day dreaming. There is something very grounding and calming about the place and the people of Kamouraska, as if good spirits reside there, and I’m not normally inclined to believe in such things. Anyway, for a second, I was ready to drop everything and smell algae forever, but a cloud passed and I came to my senses; sun and spirits or not, I don’t think I could not be so far from Montreal . But who knows.

We picked sorrel, wild rose petals for tisane, leaf celery, angelica and julienne des dames in small amounts. The sea asparagus (glasswort) wasn’t quite ready. But most importantly, the sea spinach or ‘arroche de mer’ was. This green happens to be my favourite thing ever, my coup de coeur. It tastes like spinach but more flavourful, more nutty and rich, and salty to boot. Its great raw in salads or even better wilted (cooked) with garlic and chilli, served along side fish or eggs or rice, or anything really. I can’t say enough about the stuff; it is so delicious, like super- duper- exciting spinach. I’ve served it to friends and family, people indifferent to greens, who were wooed. It was one of the few things that a former French chef colleague and I could agree on – that this was ‘the shit.’ We endlessly snacked on our MEP during service. He now works in Calgary and gets hundreds of pounds shipped out there when the season peaks.

This sea spinach (Arroche de mer) is surely one of the reasons I gravitated towards François in the first place. It was so new to me, I so loved it, and he was the only source. And he was charming enough. I realized I would have to secure him to secure my source. Inevitably and unconsciously, I was embarking on the journey I am now living, and many great meals later, I have no regrets.

This weekend, I served the delectable green in salad and in soup. I also added some to an orrechiette dish with ramps, lemon, sea parsley pesto, smoked salmon and peas. I have eaten it at home in mounds, wilted, with assorted toppings, in pasta with garlic or even alone. I cannot wait for corn and juicier field tomatoes, because to me, that’s the best combination in the whole wide world, as a side dish for fish, or in a compound salad with ham, bacon or cheese. Last summer, my kick was a tomato, bocconcini and arroche salad with smoked salt and crinkleroot (wild horseradish) oil. For our staff meal on Saturday, I did something similar, topping some tomatoes and wilted arroche with bacon, egg, and the last asparagus and peas. Drizzled with some olive oil infused with wild herbs and aged balsamic, alongside some crusty bread, it was amazing and just what we needed to get through the day. It was but a 10 minute time-out to scoff in a mad day of prep and processing, amidst bouts of stressed out squabbling, but communing over this seasonal meal settled us right down and brightened the day, reminding us of everything good. If François seduced me with wild mushrooms, it was with salads like this that I seduced him, and it still proves to be a sure way to make him happy. It is so easy to make good with good food.

If you are lucky, you may be able to taste this special sea green in some of Montreal ’s top restaurants in the coming weeks. Or you can come and eat at Les Jardins Sauvages www.jardinssauvages.com; we will also be opening on Sunday night as well as Saturday of the holiday weekends for small parties. For menu, see http://soupnancy.squarespace.com/menus/jardins-sauvages/.  Or call us and we’ll supply you or hook you up with Claudie (Les Jardins de la Mer, 418-714-0075) who works with François from Kamouraska. She ships to chefs in substantial quantities. For those of you at home, I know she may have plans to make these treasured greens available retail at some Montreal location, possibly La Mer on Papineau, so keep your eye out.

Now that I’ve gotten my arroche fix, I can go back to the work at hand and pay proper attention to the other wild edibles. I have a ton of cattails to make into stock, to blanch and freeze, and to make into flour. This flour makes a terrific crêpe by the way, and the stock is really flavourful and unique, reminiscent of corn and asparagus, great for soup, and shows a surprisingly incredible marriage with truffle. The cattails themselves are fun to eat alone too, cooked up in some water and butter (like corn on the cob or like a pogo).

There are mountains of varied herbs and flowers (daisy, achilée, armoise, mint, sea parsley, wild rose, sweet clover, elderberry flower, etc) that François and company have picked which I need to dry or make infusions with; there are daisy buds to pickle and pigweed and nettle to put up for the year. Then there’s my sanglichon project (an organic wild boar/pig breed from Morgan farms) to finish up. I have the less noble bits of the carcass left to transform into sausage. I have already braised the shoulder with ice cider and boletus (yum!), I have pan-roasted the tender cuts and I have made stew. I have made jellied broth with the head and bones, and bacon with the belly, which I first cured for a week in a slurry salt, sugar and wild herbs, then smoked for hours, and ultra slow-cooked for a couple more hours. It is to die for. I am sure I could convert the strictest vegetarian with one decadent bite, or at least cause them torment for the remainder of their meatless days. I have cut the precious slab into blocks, vacuum packed it and frozen it to make it go a long way, although deep down, I know it won’t last. Because everything is better with bacon. Or as I always used to say, ‘When in doubt, add bacon!’, a motto that has saved me from kitchen catastrophe when in a jam and up against the clock with a lack-lustre dish, time and again.

Time to get back to work… Next week, new things will be coming into season, so there’s no time to waste. Chop! Chop!

strawberry season

strawberry rhubarb 'shortcake' and sorbet with sweet clover and vanilla grass

staff meal: arroche and tomato salad

 

*Take note that we will be guests on Radio-Canada’s cooking/talk show Des Kiwis et des hommes on Monday, July 2 ( 9 am and 11 pm ).. Old hat for François, but it will be a TV first for me, it’s early morning, and in French; I’m terrified. Also, watch for Anne and Manu (of L’Eau à la bouche) on the same show later on in the week..

the holy trio
crinkleroot crazy
ramps galore
ramps (still in the ground)After a week of foraging (and many bloody mosquito bites), I'm happy to be back in the kitchen, although it was indeed a nice break.  The scents of the forest linger in my brain and nasal passages, that heady mix of ramps, crinkleroot, damp earth and bug lotion.  We collected our legal quota of 50 ramps apiece, and then moved on to crinkleroot, big leaf stinging nettle (the best kind), ailliere (garlic mustard leaf), as well as a variety of wild flowers.  See photos below.  For the pictures, I uncovered the top layer of dirt to show how the ramps (wild garlic) and crinkleroot (wild horseradish) grow.  The crinkleroot, ramps and nettle grow together, often in a happy menage a trois. 

Since I operate like a machine with tunnel vision when I pick, going after one plant at a time, I kept getting nailed by the burn of the nettle when on a crinkleroot mission.  In a Bart Simpson like routine, I eventually learnt to stop falling into the trap of the prickly leaves hiding next to my prey.  The forest can be a dangerous place for a city girl like me, but thankfully, I won out and it was only enchanting after that. 

Notice the abundance; carpets of these valuable plants stretch for miles and miles in these forests.  Bent over, digging underground with our fingers (to delicately break off the stems, leaving some root intact), you can barely make a dent in the supply before you are over-tired and dirty, sore, and eaten alive.  After hours of picking, we don't even leave a trace. It seems shameful to not make use of more of this, to leave so much behind.  I can't help but think that if everyone picked respectfully, there would be plenty to go around forever.   Unfortunately, this is unrealistic, so our forests are better off underexploited; we need the limits and laws, and for misguided people to stay away.  We also need our governments to preserve more land like this from development. 

A couple of days of hard physical work close to nature is grounding and only makes me more appreciative of everything: nature, my life, and especially the preciousness of my fresh ingredients.  I am more inspired than ever.  So, now it's time to get cooking and process all this stuff.  I'll be making crinkleroot oil, some ramp and crinkleroot butter and pesto, and more stinging nettle soup, the mainstay of our spring menu.  I've set a little aside of each for some play time when I find the time.  I need to riff some more, to try some new things with this holy trio.  To feel satisfied, I always need to really treat an ingredient right while it's around, to take it all kinds of places to get to know it better or just to show my love.  And I need to feel like I've exhausted the possibilities with a seasonal ingredient before moving on to the next.
ramps uncovered (still in the ground)

 

 

  Chop-chop!  Because time flies, especially when the season is in full swing.  The pace has picked up, the bookings are coming in..  Soon enough,  I will be chained to the stove, with no more time for escapades in the woods ..   To see our menu for the next couple of weekends, go to http://soupnancy.squarespace.com/menus/jardins-sauvages/ or visit François' website www.jardinssauvages.com.

 

picks of the day to be used for dinner

Quenouille crepe with salmon and crinkleroot fresh cheese, pickled fiddleheads

Spring salad with duck confit
Venison, venison sausage, boletus polenta, peas

terrasse at La Table des Jardins Sauvages

 

 

 

strawberry-rhubarb-vanillagrass smoothie and cobbler

 

 

 

 

 

 

Early June pickings II
Early june pickings I

Spring things

May 9, 2007

Spring has finally sprung in earnest, and chefs like me are dancing, revelling in the start-up abundance of everything fresh and green; it is finally time to put the tired roots aside.
daylily sprouts
erythrone
nettle
crinkleroot
ramps
fiddleheads
François and his fiddleheads
fiddleheads
viola 
In a mere week, everything around has sprouted up, the fields and forest floors have gone from drab brown to vibrant green, the birds are all back, the air smells alive, and François smells like dirt (in a good way). The first day lily sprouts and greens like stonecrop or live-forever, adder’s leaf and daisy are plentiful, the chives and crinkleroot are out, the fiddleheads are popping up wildly, the nettle and ramp greens too. Asparagus, peas and sorrel are hitting the markets; it’s the beginning of an endless stream of local food. – Hoorah! We’re still waiting for the morels though, although their less edible cousins, the gyromites are all over..

Before the onslaught of everything green, the first harbinger of spring for me is always marked by the arrival of the sweet snow crab and Nordic shrimp.. something to tide me over while waiting for the greens. Both these have been on the market for over a month now (and both are sustainable, local choices by the way). But get ‘em fresh and eat ‘em quick, go to the markets, La Mer or your trusted fish monger. You can ask to taste them first to ensure freshness. Nordic shrimp often get a bad rap only because they have a short shelf life, and so are often frozen and mushy and fishy, nothing like when they are fresh. They are like candy, sweet and addictive, and one of my favourite things in the world, as finger food with the head on, plain for breakfast, or in a simple salad for lunch or dinner!

Now, it's all about Fiddlehead season here..  The infamous fiddlehead fern and François's first baby, is the first true local green vegetable that everyone knows, and that means madness here at Wild Plant central. He kicks off the season by donning his one piece rubber boot suit and taking his canoe out to get to the first ones. This year was a late start relative to the last couple of years, but once it hit, as with everything else (dandelions and company), it went faster then usual. The first fiddleheads are tough picking (still basically underground and sparse), but are prized and so are snapped up quickly at 7$/lb (reserved for Toqué and me). A few days of sun later, the season really gets under way, and eager pickers start showing up with 50 to 100 lb bags. When the season peaks, a week or two later (which is as of now), the price will have fallen and settled at 3$/lb wholesale. Worth every penny when it comes to quality, which means picked in an unpolluted place and close to the ground. And trust me, this is hard earned money on the pickers' parts.  Especially when it’s done right, picking is back-breaking work, not to mention what it does to your hands; one day was enough for me.

When you’re out there buying fiddleheads in the unregulated market jungle, check the source (know where they were picked or at least that they are from a reputable supplier) and be wary of low prices. Look for tightly curled fern heads with no fuzz down the stems, there should be very little stem, and they should be bright green with no brown. Cook them in lots of boiling water, noting that the water should not turn jet black (a bad sign), a reddish color is normal. They are best cooked through, not just for safety, but also for taste. I find the best solution is to double blanch them 2 minutes each time, changing the water in between. That way, they are cooked sufficiently, but still retain some texture. Then, they are ready to dress or sauté or stew or pickle, however you want. If you want them really crunchy, then the best bet is to serve them cold, pickled or in a vinaigrette. Au contraire, one of my favourites is an old recipe of François’ (Façon Bas du Fleuve) in which they are falling-apart-soft and a pale, not so appetizing green color, but absolutely delicious, and only two ingredients, onions and salt pork.

I’m leaving you with a few more modern style recipes for fiddleheads too, so that you can explore them hot or cold, as a side or as the star. I’ll add on a few other spring recipes to inspire you as well.. See the recipe archives..

http://soupnancy.squarespace.com/recipes-/2007/5/9/5-ways-with-fiddleheads.html

http://soupnancy.squarespace.com/recipes-/2007/5/9/snow-crab-or-lobster-salad.html

Even if you don’t hit the kitchen, at least get out there and enjoy the weather, visit the markets or the country if you can.. I’ll be making our signature stinging nettle soup this weekend if you want a real taste of spring. Mmmm, this year I think I will garnish it with a froth made from ramp (wild garlic) leaves, and bacon..

Our menu for the weekend:  http://soupnancy.squarespace.com/recipes-/

And don't forget to check out La Semaine Verte on Radio Canada (channel 4) on Sundays at 12:30pm.  Starting May 20th, every Sunday for 12 weeks, François will be a guest, introducing viewers to a new wild plant or two as things of interest come into season..  http://www1.radio-canada.ca/actualite/v2/semaineverte/

April 6, 2007

Easter eggs evoke much more than the fun, 'yum factor' and children’s glee if you stop for a second; a host of issues hide behind, including the dominance of factory farming in our egg supply, and the exploitation associated with chocolate. I feel cheap in ignoring these as we party, but in the spirit of not pissing people off on this festive weekend, I’ll leave the politics for another time and focus on the good stuff. I guess I am shamefully more of a hedonist than an activist, but I AM grateful, so there.

EASTER

My ode to the egg

It is Easter.. Time to PAY HOMMAGE TO THE EGG, I say. That's what Easter means most to me, sorry Dad. It’s EGG APPRECIATION DAY". Afterall, there should be one measly day in the year when you stop and say, "Wow, eggs are great, and oh my God, am I ever thankful for eggs!"

Let me remind you how great eggs are. They are nice to look at and hold, even without the painted colors of the day. They are always extremely nutritious and delicious. But most of all, they are incredibly quick, useful and versatile, a cook's best friend.

They emulsify and bind, they leaven and thicken, they seal and coat, they add color and gloss. They add flavour, mouth-feel, richness or lightness to preparations, both hot and cold. Think mayonaisse, hollandaise, and the many egg based sauces like carbonara, Alfredo, avgolomo. Eggs are key in stratiatella, flans, royales, custards, cakes, quickbreads, brioche, cream puffs, ice cream, froths, foams and meringues, crispy cookies, macarons, crabcakes, stuffings, and mousses.... They are fabulous pickled - yah, that tavern favourite rocks!  And we mustn’t forget about just plain (but never so plain) old scrambled eggs, the ultimate comfort food. They can also be made into the fanciest, most elegant fare when snazzed up with some wild mushroom or sea urchin. I could keep going you know.

Easter weekend is a time of rejoicing and celebrating for most of us, whatever our background. For some it’s just a long weekend, but for most it’s about rebirth in someway, and eggs symbolize that perfectly. Be it to mark the rebirth of Jesus and the break from the fasting of lent, or at the very least the advent of spring, with the longer days and the promise of new and exciting things, it’s a time for ‘la fete...’ For the kids, it’s all about chocolate. For me, it’s all about eggs. In your weekend feasts which will surely feature an egg or two at some point, take a moment to raise your glass to the glorious egg!  Cheers and Happy Spring to all!

Chers Chefs et Restaurateurs,

(Je m'excuse d'avance pour mes erreures de tête carrée..)

Plusieurs parmis vous vous souvenez sûrement de François Brouillard, le coureur des bois qui faisait les ruelles de Montréal pour vous fournir de plantes sauvages pendant des années.. Pour les nouveaux chefs, je vous présente François, un pionnier dans le sauvage comestible, qui avec sa compagnie, les Jardins Sauvages, cueille et travaille pour promouvoir les plantes sauvages du Québec en cuisine depuis 20 ans.

Même si vous ne l’avez peut-être pas vu dernièrement, je vous assure qu’il est encore très présent, et encore la référence ‘sur le terrain’ dans les plantes sauvages et champignons comestibles du terroir québécois.

Au courant des années, François a évolué dans ses connaissances de plantes, et forcement aussi en tant que entrepreneur. Il a changé de direction, mettant plus d’énergie dans sa table champêtre, ses produits transformés et sa nouvelle compagnie Bon Bolets. Il a élaborer une série de produits de haute qualité à base de bolets qui est finalement sur le marché, notamment son huile de bolets de finition, bien aromatique. Penser à l’huile de porcini importé et ajouter de la puissance, mais tout naturel et Québécois, un meilleur qualité prix.

Ça ne veut pas dire qu’il a oublié les chefs, au contraire, il est maintenant plus informé de ce qu’ils/elles veulent, et comment plus facilement travailler ensemble. La nouvelle formule marche sur commande. Alors, si vous l’avertissez d’avance, il peut arranger pour la cueillette des produits qui vous intéressent et une transformation si désirée.

Il cueille toutes ses plantes à l’année longue pour se fournir lui-même et encore un peu plus, mais il ne peut pas prévoir ce que les gens veulent parmi sa vaste gamme de produits.. Souvent les chefs veulent le produit brut, d’autres le veulent transformé, soit séché, congelé, en pâte ou en coulis, en vinaigre, en sirop ou en huile.

Maintenant, avec mes services de chef/consultant, François a plus de flexibilité, pouvant offrir le produit travaillé comme vous le voulez, ainsi que de la consultation pour ceux qui ne connaissent pas beaucoup ces produits ou la meilleure façon de les travailler. Je sais ce qui est pratique pour les chefs, comment mieux préparer le produit (le dosage, la forme) pour la MEP et la conservation selon l’utilisation et la recette que le chef veut faire. Avec les connaissances des plantes de François et ma capacité culinaire, on peut vous offrir un meilleur service plus personnalisé.

Des exemples de ce que nous avons déjà fait pour certaines cuisines: la pâte de carcajou, le gingembre sauvage en moutarde ou en extrait, des sirops de fleurs de sureau, de vanilla-grass, et de thé des bois. Les fruits peuvent être geler IQF-sousvide ou transformer en coulis, même en sauce finie. Les feuilles peuvent être transformé en pesto ou séché, les fleurs aussi. Pour certains produits, on peut également blanchir et congeler ou mettre en conserve. Pour un chef en dehors du Québec, nous avons blanchi et congelé sous-vide 120 lbs d’arroche de mer avant de le shipper par avion pour faire ses stocks pour l’année.

Ci-joint est la liste des produits à jour de François pour vous donner une idée de ce qui est possible et quand les plantes sont en saison. Nous avons des petites quantités de quasiment tout sous la main, mais pour des commandes importantes ou hors saison, il faudra consulter d’avance. Il faut toujours tenir en compte qu’avec le sauvage, on ne peut jamais garantir la date, on suit le rythme imprévisible de Dame nature.

Pour ceux qui sont curieux mais n’ont jamais travailler ces plantes, ne gênez vous pas de nous appeler ou venir nous rencontrer sur rendez-vous, et on pourra vous guider.

Les plantes sauvages comestibles sont une vraie ressource culinaire de notre terroir et héritage qu’on devrait apprécier et exploiter avec respect, faire connaître aux gens et en être fière. Par contre, pour goûter aux plantes à leur meilleur, il faut les cueillir à la bonne place, au bon moment, et correctement. Avec l’expertise de François et son véritable amour et respect pour l’environnement, vous êtes sure de la qualité du produit et de la cueillette saine et renouvelable.

Si ça vous intéresse, SVP appeler nous ou visiter le site www.jardinssauvages.com, ou encore mieux, venez manger un menu gastronomique à la table. François est en salle, et moi en cuisine la fin de semaine. .

Au plaisir,

Nancy Hinton

En collaboration avec les Jardins Sauvages, François Brouillard

       
Liste de produits - sur commande
Les Jardins Sauvages Enr.       
17 Chemin Martin       
St-Roch l'Achignan, Québec       
J0K 3H0       
(450)588-5125       
François Brouillard        

			Anglais		Latin
Légumes:
Pousse Tussilage (Pas-dâne)			Coltsfoot sprout		Tussilago farfara
Tête de violon			Fiddlehead, ostrich fern		Matteuccia struthiopteris
Pousse de cormier (sorbier d'amerique)			Mountain-ash sprout		Sorbus Americana
Pousse d'orpin pourpre			Live-forever, stonecrop		Sedum purpureum
Bourgeon d'épinette blanche/noire			White/black spruce		Picea Glauca/Picea mariana
Chou gras			Pigweed		Chenopodium album
Pousse d'asclépiade			Common milkweed or silkweed sprout		Asclepias syriaca
Épis de quenouille			Narrow leaved Cat-tail		Typha angustifolia
Bouton d'hémérocalle			Daly lily buds		Hemerocallis Fulva
Brocoli d'asclépiade			Common milkweed brocoli		Asclepias syriaca
Cornichon d'asclépiade			Common milkweed pod		Ascepias syriaca
Légumes marin:
Arroche de mer (feuille et tête), Arroche hastées			Halberd leaved atriplex, orach, sea spinach		Atriplex Hastatae
Salicorne de mer de Europe (tête)			Chicken claws, samphire, sea asparagus, glasswort		Salicornia europea
Sabline faux-pélus (pourpier de mer)			Sea chickweed, Seabeach sandwort		Arenaria peploides
Caquiller de mer édentulé			Sea rocket		Cakile edentula
Plantain de mer maritime			goose tongue, seaside plantain		Plantago maritima
Persil de mer (Livèche écossaise)			Sea parsley, scotch or sea lovage
Feuillage:
Achillé millefeuille (herbe à dinde)			Common yarrow		Achillea millefolium
Feuille d'Érythrone (petite)			Dog's tooth violet leaf		Erythronium americanum
Feuille de Marguerite blanche			Ox-eye daisy leaf		Chrysanthmémum leucanthemum
Feuille de violette			Violet leaf		Viola
Mesclun printanier
Tabouret des champs			Fanweed, field pennycress, stinkweed		Thalaspi arvense
Feuille de carcajou			Crinkleroot leaf		Dentaria diphylla
Stellaire moyenne graminoide			Common or grass-leaved stitchwort		Stellaria graminea
Chou gras			Pigweed		Chenopodium  album
Oxalide dressée			European wood or lady's sorrel		Oxalis stricta
Pourpier potager			Common purslane		Portulaca oleracea
Salsifis des près			Meoadow goat's beard		Tragopogan pratensis
Algues:
Main de mer palmée			Dulse		Palmaria palmata
Laitue de mer (ulves)			Sea lettuce
Laminaire à long stipe			Blade kelp		Laminaria longicruris
Condiments:
Gingembre sauvage			Wild ginger		Asarum canadense
Carcajou (racine)			Crinkleroot, Two-leaved toothwort		Dentana diphylla
Pistils d'hémérocalle			Day lily pistils		Hemerocallis Fulva
Fleur d'hémérocalle			Day lily flower		Hemerocallis Fulva
Fleur de monarde			wild Bergamot flower		Monarda Fistulosa
Renoué poivre d'eau			Marshpepper, smartweed		Polygonum hydropiper
Fleurs Sauvages
Comestibles
Erythrone			Dog's tooth violet		Erythronium americanum
Violette sauvage
Violette du Canada			Canada violet		Viola canadensis
Violette septentrionale					Viola septenstrionalis
Violette pubescente					Viola pubescens
Claytonie de Caroline
Robinier			Common locust		Robinia Pseudo-Acacia
Smilacine à grappes			False solomon's seal		Similacina racemosa
Vesce Jargeau			Tufted vetch		Vicia cracca
Pommier			Common apple		Malus pumila
Juilenne des dames			Dame's rocket or violet		Hesperis matronalis
Rosier sauvage (Églantier)			Wild rose		Rosa
Hémérocalle fauve			common orange day lily		Hemerocallis fulva
Épilobe à feuilles étroites			Fireweed		Epilobium agustifolium
Sureau blanc			Canadian or common elder		Sambucus canadensis
Fruits Frais
et Congelé:
Groseille (Groseiller des chiens)			Wild gooseberry		Ribes cynosbati
Gadelle (Gadellier glanduleux)			Fetid currant		Ribes glandulosum
Chicouté (Plaquebière)			Cloudberry, bakeapple		Rubus charnaemorus
Amélanche (petite poires)			Juneberry, saskatoon berry		Amelanchier
Cerise (cerisier à grappes)			Chokecherry		Prunus virginiana
Framboise noir (Framboisier noir)			Black raspberry, thimbleberry		Rubus occidentalis
Génévrier			Common juniper		Juniperus communis
Mûre (Ronce murier)			Blackberry, dewberry		Rubus Eubatus
Airelle (Airelle vigne d'ida)			Mountain cranberry, cowberry		Vaccinium bitis-idaea
Airelle de marécages			Alpine bilberry		Vaccinium uliginaosum
Camarine hermaphodite			Black crowberry		Empetrum nigrum hermaphroditum
Sureau blanc			Canadian or common elderberry		Sambucus canadensis
Grande salsepareille			Indian-root		Aralia racemosa
Petite salsepareille			Wild salsaparilla		Aralia nudicaulis
Baie Églantier			Rose
Pimbina (Viorne comestible)			Squashberry		Vivurnum edule
Raisin sauvage (Vigne des rivages)			River bank grape, frost grape		Vitis ripania
Thé
Thé des bois			Wintergreen		Gaultheria procumbens
Thé du Labrador			Labrador tea		Rhododendron groenlandicum
Produits transformés
Farine d'apios (pomme de terre sauvage)			Ground nut flour		Apios americana
Farine de champignon			Mushroom powder
Farine de laitue de mer			Sea lettuce powder
Farine de quenouille			Broad-leaved cat-tail flour		Typha latifolia
Farine d'hémérocalle			Day lily flour		Hemerocallis fulva
Vinaigre de cormier (sorbier d'Amerique)			American mountain-ash (vinegar)		Sorbus americana
Vinaigre de gingembre sauvage			Wild ginger (vinegar)		Asarum canadense
Huile d'herbes sauvages (alliaire, carcajou, persil de mer, chiboulette, achillé, chou gras etc)			Wild herb infused oil
Huile de bolet (cèpe d'Amerique)			Boletus oil
Huile de carcajou			Crinkleroot (oil)		Dentaria diphylla
Huile de persil de mer (Liveche écossaise)			Sea parsley (oil)		Lingusticum scoticum
Huile d'aillière			Garlic mustard (oil)		Alliaria officinalis
Gelée de pimbina (viorne comestible)			Squashberry (jelly)		Vivurnum edule
Moutarde de bolets			Boletus (mustard)		Leccinum insigne
Moutarde de petits fruits			Wild berry (mustard)
Moutarde au gingembre sauvage			Wild ginger (mustard)		Asarum canadense
Sirop de thé du Labrador			Labrador tea (syrup)		Rhododendron groenlandicum
Sirop de foin d'odeur (Hiérochloé odorante)			Sweet or Vanilla-grass		Hierochloe odorata
Vinaigrette maison			House vinaigrette
Balsamique de raisins sauvages			Wild grape balsamic coulis
Sauce aigre douce aux bolets			Sweet and sour boletus (Wild Mushroom) sauce
Tisane maison (sauvage)			Wild herbal tea (homemade)
Sel de champignons			Wild mushroom salt
Sel de laitue de mer			Sea lettuce salt
Champignons sauvages
Armillaire couleur de miel			Honey mushroom		Armillaria mellea
Armillaire ponderosa (pésant,matsutake)			Pine mushroom		Armillaria ponderosa
Armillaire ventru					Armillaria ventricosa
Bolet à pied rouge					Boletus erythropus
Bolet à pied glabrescent					Leccinum subglabripes
Bolet orangé			Orange capped boletus		Leccinum aurantiacum
Bolet Jaune (ou nonette voilée)			Yellow-brown boletus		Suillus luteus
Cèpes (Bolet comestible)			Porcini		Boletus edulis
Cèpes des Mélèzes (ou bolet élegant)			Larch boletus		Boletinus grevillei
Chanterelle en tube (en entennoir)					Cantharellus tubaeformis
Coprin chevelu			Shaggymane		Coprinus comatus
Girolles (Chanterelle ciboire ou commune)			Chanterelle		Cantharellus cibarius
Lactaire délicieux			Delicious Lactarius
Lépiote lisse			Smooth lepiota		Lepiota naucina
Lobster mushroom (Dermatose de la Russule)			Lobster		Hypomyces lactifluorum
Morille conique			Morel		Morchella conica
Mousseron			Fairy Ring
Pied de mouton			Hedgehog
Pleurotte d'automne (tardif)			Oyster mushroom		Panellus serotinus
Psaliotte champêtre (Agaric champêtre)			Meadow mushroom		Agaricus campester
Tricolome pied bleu			Blewit		Lepista nuda
Tricolome prétentieux					Tricholoma portenstosum
Trompette de la mort (Chanterelle corne d'abondance)			Black trumpet		Craterellus Fallax
Vesce de loup géante			Giant puffball		Calvatia gigantea

  
         
L'entreprise est soucieuse de l'environnement et cueuille ses produits de façon à pouvoir renouveller chaque année.         
Ses cueuilleurs sont ainsi formés afin de livrer qualité et fraîcheur en tout temps.  N'hésitez pas à visiter notre site         
internet au www.jardinssauvages.com pour y découvrir notre restaurant spécialisé de nos produits du terroir forestier.         

 

 

11-8-2006

What else can I write about this week but mushrooms? Being smack in the middle of our monumental wild mushroom extravaganza, I can’t think about anything else. Besides, if I don’t talk about them now, I certainly won’t for a while given that I will be pretty shroomed out after this, I reckon.

With close to twenty kinds of wild mushrooms on the menu, I have been cleaning and freezing and drying, pulverizing and cooking all kinds of mushrooms, all kinds of ways, day in, day out, for weeks now for this event, with another week to go.

This event has become a big draw, be it for mushroom lovers and gastronomes, people who know many wild varieties but don’t have access to them all, or for people who know less but are curious, and want to learn. There is something generally intoxicating about mushrooms I think, due to their sweet, deep, earthy aromas, but also because some are literally so, and we all know they can be deadly. Many people see different mushrooms growing in their backyard and wonder whether they can eat them, but don’t dare to; we give them that chance. To visualize the mushrooms we are using, you can go to his website (www.jardinssauvages.com) and click on the mushroom words on the French menu, and a picture of the mushroom pops up.

I always loved mushrooms; it was probably my first vegetable love affair, besides maybe pickles, if that counts. The first dish I ever cooked on my own was a mushroom dish, around the age of 7 or so, I needed to stand on a chair. I sautéed up some mushrooms with margarine (?!) and finished with soy sauce. This is still one of my favorite dishes only fancied up, using wild mushrooms, tamari and real butter, a splash of fine sherry vinegar, black pepper. It’s funny, because although I was always a passionate eater, I did not develop any culinary aspirations until my twenties. However, at an early age, I was particular about what I ate, refusing to eat much of what my Mom cooked, I was one to take charge, and I liked mushrooms.

I have been seduced with mushrooms more than once. I think a part of me lit up the first time I tasted porcini. I remember the day. Same with black trumpets, they still make me swoon, I think they are the sexiest mushroom. Yes, even more than truffles.

Mushrooms played an important role in my courtship with François as well. I was at l’Eau à la Bouche and mushroom fever was just taking hold of me. I was being introduced to new varieties, foragers would come to the back door, and we cooks would go out and pick some ourselves and then dare eachother to eat them. I took a beginners’ course that year. Then François des bois came along with wilder varieties, and his eye on me. We started dating several mushrooms later, and soon after, he managed to get into my house to cook me up a couple of Amanites des Cesars, a rare type considered one of the most noble by the French. In those early days, he would leave baskets of assorted wild mushrooms on my doorstep when he was in Ste-Adèle and I was at work. Some people woo with flowers; with me, mushrooms worked just as well.

A month or two later, when we were officially dating, a paper bag of boletus showed up on my doorstep one morning... That day, I ate breakfast. An omelet with special mushrooms makes for an exquisite start to a day for sure. The thing is, the next time I spoke with François, I graciously thanked him for the nice treat, only to have him respond in shock, even hostility. You see, it had not been him. Apparently, I had another forager/suitor. I had no idea who it could be, François was suspicious and jealous. “Who the hell else was coming to my door with mushrooms?” he demanded. I eventually found out that it was a young cook in the kitchen who either had a crush on me or was trying to suck up, get a little less flack or a better schedule... So, mushrooms started our relationship, and shortly after caused a rift, making for a rocky start.. But it didn’t take long before more mushroom experiences secured it...

Now, they’re bound to keep us together, especially since our annual mushroom event has taken on a life of its own and has become this huge thing. What would we do without them? Everywhere we go, we pick mushrooms: in the Charlevoix, in the Outaouais, in the Laurentians...It isn’t new that mushrooms dictate my schedule really; for the last few years at l’Eau, my vacation time was set according to the end of the mushroom season and our event at la Table des Jardins Sauvages.

Mushrooms are indeed big in my life, but then again, a lot of vegetables are. But because of these mushroom dinners I guess, I have become a mini mushroom diva. I was asked to write an article on boletus for Effervescence magazine, I did a mushroom event at the Pearson School of Culinary Arts, was in a mushroom article in the Gazette; all of a sudden, I’m a reference. I know how to cook, but I am no mushroom expert. I don’t need to be, I have François, my own personal forager and expert. I do like to pick a little when I don’t have to be at the stove though...

If I’m not with François, I am limited to a few of the most familiar. I started with boletus and the obvious morels, chanterelles and lobsters... Now, I can differentiate the most common of the boletus, I do mousserons, bluefoots, lactaires delicieux, puffballs, and lepiotes too. Actually, the best puffball of the season I found by tripping over it on my way to the shed for a spade, that’s hardly foraging is it? François is good at getting the oysters by climbing trees or gently knocking them down with a pole; my job is to catch them before they hit the ground.

When it comes to foraging for wild mushrooms, you need to consult not one book, but several. None seem to be complete, and there are toxic mushrooms that resemble good ones. Going with someone knowledgable is a big help. Then, it just takes time and experience, always referring to the books, and your tastebuds when you’re further along. I think it is wiser to get to know a certain forest or area, discover what grows there, and stick with a variety or two that you have until you know them well. Then, you can move on to new types and new spots. Unless you’re crazy adventurous, don’t dabble with the sketchy kinds, be leary of the prettiest ones. I don’t bother with the ugly gyromite either (like a big, deformed looking morel), which some people prize, who needs a stomach ache?

Again, I’m biased when it comes to boletus because I love them, but for beginners, they are a good way to start. That’s because they are easy to identify and never dangerous. Well, there is one toxic variety but it doesn’t grow here. Of the hundred or so varieties, there are some that are of no culinary interest, others are bitter, but there are 20 odd delicious ones. They usually have a yellow-brownish cap, they have that stereotypical mushroom shape, and under the cap there is a sponge that when you look closely, is really a bunch of little upright tubes, as opposed to the horizontal gills of most other species. They are great fresh in soups and sauces, and even better dried, because all kinds of new aromas develop, reminicent of vanilla, cherries, coconut, chocolate, almonds... depending on the type. People are skeptical, but once you take a sniff in our jars, it is easy to see that it is not a stretch.

Anyone who knows wild mushrooms knows how delicious they can be, but also how elusive they are. Not only is properly identifying them daunting, but finding them is another story. They are hardly predictable. When you have a good spot, it will likely provide year after year, but only under the right conditions, and who knows when. Mushroom hunters are notoriously passionate and persistent, as if they are biten by a bug, revisiting their locations, seeking out new ones, only satisfied by a substancial find. Good spots are coveted, and often kept secret.

I’ve been let in on some of François’ spots, but he’s not worried, I had morels on my front lawn and didn’t even see them. Over the years, I have developed my eagle eye somewhat, but I’m still no hawk. I’m better, but I am only effective one variety at a time. When I’m in mousseron mode, I see them all and pick them at lightening speed. Then I move into bluefoot mode, and collect a whole bunch. Ok, I won’t miss a bright red lobster mushroom underfoot, and I always see the boletus (my favorite), but I easily miss the oysters (I don’t notice much above my field of vision) or others I’m not focused on finding. It doesn’t help that I’m not good at identifying the different kinds of trees, which is an important part of mushroom gathering.

As you can see, it is a complicated business. So, as long as I have a constant supply, my priority will be cooking them. For the firmer varieties like porcini or matsutake or chanterelles, my favorite way is freshly sautéed. Some of the softer varieties, like most of the boletus, are much better dried. That’s why you don’t see them fresh in stores, they are too perishable. You will find them in specialty stores, even some supermarkets. I use them to beef up stocks or sauces (they can do wonders for vegetarian dishes), to aromatize soups, or to infuse in milk for scalloped potatoes or ice cream or flan preparations. We make them into powder and use this “mushroom flour” in crusts for scallops or poultry, or in desserts, you just add them in with the dry ingredients. You don’t need much. A tablespoon (5g) will flavor a small batch of cookie dough or crust. In savory preparations, calculate ¼ the fresh weight of mushrooms you would use. 10-15g of dried mushrooms will nicely flavor a broth, soup or sauce. You just rehydrate by pouring boiling water over top, allow them to soften, drain, and add to your recipe, decanting the soaking liquid, which you can also use.

François is putting a fragrant boletus oil (and mustard) on the market this year, the first of its kind in Québec. You use it like truffle oil, although it is less potent, and so more versatile. There are porcini oils on the market from Italy, but so far I have not tasted one that is made with real mushrooms that is this good. This oil will be a great addition to any cook’s repertoire, even if all you cook is eggs.

There is so much to do with mushrooms. They go great with just about anything, the milder varieties with seafood, poultry, artichokes and cheese, the stronger varieties with tomatoes, eggplant, root vegetables, game and meat. They can be used in compound butters, spreads, salads, casseroles, pasta or rice dishes, as accompaniments, or in sauces for meats. Yet, I hardly feel like going into too much more detail about how to cook mushrooms. Just use a hot pan and enough oil, finish with butter. Don’t wash them (just wipe clean) unless they are very dirty. Make sure to cook any wild mushrooms through. When using dried, keep the soaking liquid and leave the dirt behind. There are more tips in the Gazoo article, and I have included some recipes here too for those interested (see the Recipes section).

I encourage you all to get out there and explore the world of mushrooms, sample the varieties available to you at the market. There are some tasty cultivated ‘wild’ mushrooms being produced in Québec, like the oyster, King oyster, shitake and fairy ring. They are more delicate and more one dimensional than real wild mushrooms, but still delicious, just different. Incorporate dried mushrooms into your cooking; treat them like a vanilla pod or a bay leaf that you can leave in or take out, to infuse in your soups, sauces or stews. They provide meatiness and complexity. Fresh wild mushrooms are more difficult to find and you have to pay the price. But when you can get your hands on some, they are well worth it, a world away and above cultivated mushrooms, not that there is anything wrong with regular mushrooms either. All mushrooms are good.

 

Mushroom Boom (article in the Gazette on Wednesday Nov.8, 2006)http://www.canada.com/montrealgazette/news/arts/story.html?id=3be34077-2932-4909-88a1-c4320c5eb5e2&k=5279

More harvest talk

2006-10-05

Nancy Hinton (Food writing 2006)

All the summer stuff is now gone, the autumn vegetables are in full swing, there are some late season strawberries, but basically, the end is really drawing near. It’s time to stock up. I feel the pressure, but it’s hard to find the time. This is my favorite time of year: the market still abundant, the sunny days, the crisp nights, the leaves turning, I always want to celebrate Thanksgiving fully, hold a big feast with friends, yes turkey, but all kinds of stuff, and lots of wine. But somehow, in the restaurant business, in no matter what function, this is always a busy time of year. Maybe one day .

Ok, so the parties and campfires will have to wait, but I do have to put some stuff up no matter what. I did jar some tomato sauce, some ratatouille, some hot pepper sauce, some salted herbs. I even shaved the kernels off ears of corn, froze the kernels, and the naked ears (for broth); I needed to extend the corn season a little.

Now, it’s the mushrooms that are coming in. François is out picking, he’s so good. When everyone is saying there is nothing out there, in one morning, he comes back with baskets full of lepiotes, wild oyster mushrooms, lactaires délicieux, coprins, blue foots... It’s turning out to be a not bad fall mushroom season. Some varieties didn’t bloom, others came out in full force, but rotted immediately – too much rain and heat. So, we missed out on the late season cepes and the puffballs, but the blue foots and some of the later bolets are still promising.

With the mushrooms, we do all kind of things to preserve them for the year. Some we freeze IQF (flash frozen individually), others we dry and make powders, and some we transform right away to make glazes, pickles, soups, sauces, flavored oil, and butter.

When the winter squash come in, we keep some in a cool spot for cooking, the rest get washed with soap and water, and are put out for decoration. Others go into storage for cooking at a later date, say January or Febuary, when anything good is scarce. This way, they will keep for monthes, even ‘til next season, but once spring comes round, we’re all sick of squash, hard to believe now.

We’re also stocking up on local onions, celery, nantaise carrots (the sweet stubby ones), garlic, all the root vegetables.... Keep them in a cool place and you’re better off than buying the same thing from supermarkets, or imported stuff.

Tis the season to revel in the abundance, to cook up a storm, but also to think about the winter ahead and stock up. There is nothing more rewarding and soulful than eating your own preserves in the heart of winter. I don’t want the season to end, but I’m almost looking forward to those cold, sparse monthes inorder to appreciate all the hard work of today.

Salted herbs

4 L (8x500ml mason jars)

1 Leek

4 Carrots

3 Parsnips

4 ribs celery

4c Spinach

1 small bulb Fennel

2 bunches Parsley

2 bunches Basil

1 bunch Dill

1 bunch Thyme

1 bunch Rosemary

1 Tbsp Black pepper

2 Tbsp Fennel seed

2 Tbsp Coriander seed

1 tsp All spice

1 Tbsp Juniper berry

Lemon zest (from 2 lemons)

2 c Salt

Dice vegetables very finely. Chop herbs. Grind spices. Grate lemon zest. Mix well all together and layer with salt, store in airtight containers in fridge. Can (in mason jars in boiling water) to keep longer than a month.

Birth of a blog, and Tomatoes

2006-09-30

So this it it . Finally, I start this blog. Its been brewing for ages, and I can’t wait any longer, for better or for worse.

And, no, its not about soup. I’m “soupnancy” because the label is old enough that it stuck. It came from my years at the Tavern, when I was making 30 litres of soup a day, all kinds. People liked my soup, and I also happened to be somewhat of a tyrant in the kitchen. So when the Seinfeld Soup Nazi episode aired, it wasn’t long before my nickname was coined. I still love soup, but there’s much more on my mind today. I just couldn’t think of anything else to call my blog.

My blog will be about food, cooking, and I whatever I feel like writing about; there’s no real agenda

Today, its tomatoes .

It is harvest season, tomatoes and everything else is in abundance, but the days are numbered. Of all the fruits and vegetables, tomatoes are the hardest to let go for me. I feel an urgency to take full advantage of the last of the season, so I’m doing my tomato dance, cooking up a storm, canning, and savoring every last, fresh taste. Sure, we have hothouse varieties off season that are getting better every year, as well as a reliable supply of good canned tomatoes year round, but its not the same. I’m allowed to make a deal about late summer tomatoes.

I love tomatoes because they seem to have it all. Mainly, they are lively and sweet. I appreciate acidity in food, in wine (and in sourpatch kids). Like most North Americans, I like sweet too. I love vegetables more than any other food group (ya, ya, I know it’s a fruit, but that’s botanist talk). So, obviously, I like that vegetal taste that wine people talk about, which is very present in tomatoes. Of course, I love salt and pepper too, and I can’t think of another place where they shine so brightly.

A perfectly ripe tomato has it all in balance: fresh acidity, sweet juiciness, fleshy meatiness. Tomatoes are great on their own, raw or cooked, and almost everything goes with tomato. Oh, and its great for you; it is an anti-oxidant with its anthocyanins, lycopene, its good dose of Vitamin C; it also provides minerals, like potassium and the all important fibre.

Long cooked tomatoes bring body and umami (glutamate, ie. yumminess) to a preparation, they also add color to stocks and stews. They refresh the palate in cassoulet, they form the base of many sauces we couldn’t live without (ketchup, cocktail sauce, bbq sauce, salsa, spaghetti sauce... ) Even in cocktails, how about a delicious bloody caesar at a 5 à 7? Physically, they are a beauty to behold. Artists paint them, they adorn tablecloths, wall paper, tapestries and aprons. They pretty up salads and buffets, we put them in bowls on our dining tables for a centerpiece. They once garnished breakfast plates across the land, which made perfect sense by the way, tomatoes being the ideal condiment for an egg. I don’t know how they got bumped off by the ubiquitous orange slice in today’s restaurants, and I could strangle whoever is responsible. Anyway.

With all these qualities, I don’t understand how anyone wouldn’t love tomatoes. Its not like they give you gas or get stuck in your teeth, allergic reactions aren’t common. Yet I do know a guy who hates them, actually I dated him. I guess no one is perfect. But it’s strange, he is open-minded, has a good palate, eats just about everything else, but he doesn’t get tomatoes. Otherwise he is a fine fellow, pretty normal. He does grow them, and will eat them cooked, maybe there is hope for him yet.

In my tomato life, a climax certainly was meeting Jerome Plante, whom many now know for his heirloom varieties. I worked with him at L’Eau à la Bouche where we were privelaged to serve his tomatoes in a myriad of ways. A big hit was the tomato salad with watercress, truffle, and sheep’s milk cheese. Every week was a different treat, we couldn’t keep all the kinds straight.....Brandywine, beefsteak, zebra, ...even these mini wild tomatoes, they were all knock-outs. I hear that he was at Jean Talon this summer, so his fabulous tomatoes were accessible to anyone, not just select chefs.

Now, I’m mostly cooking with what comes from our own garden, or from this farmer next door named André Cormier. I might not have the same wide variety or expertise as Jerome, and I’ll surely go back to him one day if he’ll have me. But while I can, there’s something about standing amongst the vines, smelling that intoxicating, floral, green tomato aroma, watching them ripen, while swatting at flies and picking them myself. I let them sit on the counter a day to ripen, and so that I can admire them everytime I walk by. Then it’s time to eat or cook them up.

Over the years, I’ve used tomatoes ten zillion ways: in confit, in terrine, tomato gelée, tomato sorbet, tomato foam, you name it. Nowadays, I couldn’t be bothered. My favorite ways with tomatoes are the simplest: in a sandwich or salad, in fresh salsa, in a quick cooked tomato sauce, in ratatouille or chutney, fresh and fast-cooked with mussels, clams or oysters. I also really like them roasted or provençale, that old classic with breadcrumbs on top that I once dismissed as boring.

My favorite ways with tomatoes

Tomato salad with crinkleroot oil, smoked sea salt and greens, maybe some cheese or a poached egg to take it up a notch.

-Slice tomatoes, drizzle them with some good olive oil. I use crinkleroot oil (wild horseradish) for its arugula like bite. Sprinkle on some sea salt and freshly cracked black pepper, a few chili flakes. Dress the greens the same, but with restraint, adding a splash of a good vinegar like balsamic or sherry. Add some fresh mozzarella or some Reggiano, any good cheese. If I want to make it more substancial, I’ll add a poached egg or some garlic toast, some smoked duck or some lardons.

Fresh tomato salsa, “tortilla soup”, and gaspacho

-Halve and seed tomatoes, squeezing out excess juice, and dice. Add some minced shallot, some freshly chopped coriander, a squeeze of lime and/or red wine vinegar, salt, chili, pure or in the form of tabasco, some olive oil. You might want to add a pinch of sugar depending on your tomatoes.

-When I’m alone, I don’t seed or juice them. It makes for watery salsa, but when I’m done, I have this tasty liquid into which I like to dump all the bits of chips from the bottom of the bowl to make “tortilla soup”. It makes a snack into a meal, perfect for midnight after a shift, in front of the TV.

Fresh tomato sauce

-Generally, I prefer a quick cooked tomato sauce, that has that fresh tomato taste, with lots of olive oil. Sometimes, I’ll pump up the mirepoix (vegetable) ratio, add wine, more seasoning, and cook it longer, if I want something more complex, or if I’m adding meat.

-In any case, start by sweating some onions. I usually add a bit of minced carrot and celery, some red pepper. Then garlic, a touch of white wine, good vinegar or lemon juice. Then the spices. I use chili, fennel seed, thyme and oregano. Then go in the tomatoes. Canned is fine, although I usually use half canned, half fresh. If you don’t like skin, then blanch and peel your tomatoes, seed them if you want. You might not want to use all the juice, especially if you won’t be cooking it long. Stick in a bay leaf, even a cinnamon stick if you’re feeling adventurous (particulary good with a pork based sauce). Simmer for 30 min or 1 hour, longer if you’re doing a big batch. Pull out the aromats, douse with a good measure of good olive oil, salt and pepper, and blend.

-With this base, you can play around.....

-add anchovy, olives and capres

-add bacon and mushrooms, (and cream or not)

-add beans, extra peppers and pork or not, spices (cumin, chili, oregano, thyme, cinnamon)

-add curry, yogurt, shrimp or chicken, coriander and coconut

-add tarragon, lemon and cream for mussels, any seafood or chicken

Roast tomatoes as a topping for fish, pasta, even meat

-Halve tomatoes (preferably Roma), toss with olive oil, garlic cloves, herbs of choice, and roast on a baking tray at 400F for 30 minutes. Pull out, peel off the skins if you want, and serve along with the pan juices to dress up fish, meat, pasta or eggs.

-You can do this over a very low heat (160-200F) for hours, and then you have confit, use in the same way.

Ratatouille

-Degorge (slice and salt) your eggplant for at least half an hour. Wipe dry.

Dice up all your vegetables ( 1 onion, 1 eggplant, 2 zucchini, 1-2 red pepper). Mince up 1 celery stick, a couple of cloves of garlic.

-In your big pot, sweat an onion, add a little minced celery, one or two diced bell peppers. Then goes in some minced garlic, some chili flakes, some cumin seeds, maybe some fennel seeds, some thyme, a little rosemary. Deglaze with a ½ cup or so of red wine, and a good shot of red wine vinegar.

-On the side, in a frying pan, saute your eggplant in a good measure of olive oil, toss into big pot. Sauté zucchini in more olive oil, and add to ratatouille. Add a good pinch of salt, sugar and pepper, and allow to simmer for 30min-1 hour. Throw in some fresh basil, and rectify seasoning.

-serve hot or cold, with couscous, pasta, lamb, sausage, eggs or poultry... anything

Peanuts

2006-09-10

Nancy Hinton (Food writing 2006)

I’m in a peanut state of mind. I regularly go through love-in phases with various foodstuffs, often in synch with the seasons, sometimes just out of the blue. These days I’m nuts about peanuts. I am constantly craving them as a snack, and feeling very inspired to incorporate them into my cooking.

I grew up on peanut butter, but somewhere amidst all the excitement of my teen age years, I forgot about it. I rediscovered peanuts around 1994 when satay was all the rage. One day, I was making satay sauce, and started dipping into the peanut butter; I fell in love all over again. Wow, so good.....the memories flooded back.

Me and peanuts go back a long way. Beyond the peanut butter sandwiches in my lunchbox, BBQ peanuts were one of my favorite things as a kid. I always brought a stash with me to summer camp to make up for the terrible food there, but unfortunately soon learned that the raccoons enjoyed them as much as me. I spent much time and energy plotting and scheming to keep my sacred peanuts away from my new enemies. I would leave the less interesting bits from my care package, such as granola bars, lying about, but would wrap my peanuts in layers of bags, inside boxes, hidden in a locked suitcase, and tied to the roof of the tent. The damn buggers still managed to get to them, always leaving the blasted granola bars untouched, arg!

Blast ahead a decade or so, and its the 90’s , I’m being influenced by the “fusion” trend, I go on to dabble in different ethnic cuisines, and uncovered new ways to cook with peanuts. How fantastic they were toasted in a Thai salad, how fine a marriage they made with shrimp, chilies and coriander, how fabulously strange they were in African peanut soup... our relationship grew. But there would be a break-up down the road.

You see, around the same time, peanuts were slowly being shunned from the modern kitchen as the frequency of deadly allergies mounted. No matter that peanut oil made the best fries, actually the crispiest fried anything, it had to go. For years, I fried in canola oil, and now way past the peanut, I drizzled cold-pressed walnut oil or hazelnut oil into my preparations.

Until very recently, I had forgotten how delicious toasted peanut oil is on a green that can stand up to it, with a squeeze of lime or a splash of sherry vinegar. Now that just as many other allergies are a part of the game, and the peanut is not the only villain, I guess we can invite them back into the kitchen, albeit with a little caution.

And that is a good thing. Peanuts are nutritious, packing a good amount of protein, good unsaturated fat, .....

In fact, peanuts are a legume.....

And just plain addictive.

The other day, deep in the middle of my peanut rage, I happened to be in a long line at Canadian Tire when a peanut craving struck, and lo and behold, there they were, little packets of Planters next to the lighters and keychains for 99 cents. Before the thought that I don’t trust big food manufacturers registered, I had already gobbled them down. When my brain caught up, still in line, I got to reading the label, whoa! Since when did peanuts need so much help? There were 20 odd additives present, this and that, I suppose to keep them crunchy, keep them from going rancid, pump up their umami, who knows.....

Ingredients: Peanuts, salt, potato starch, sugar, monosodium glutamate, tapioca dextrose, autolyzed yeast, cornstarch, spices, hydrolyzed plant (soy) protein, smoke flavor, hydrogenated soybean oil, onion powder, garlic powder, monoglycerides, BHT, BHA, propyl gallate, citric acid, tri-calcium phosphate, (may contain other nut types).

Outrageous! You don’t need all that crap if they’re fresh, only a bit of heat, a bit of salt..... Au naturel en vrac at Ahkavan or from a health food store, that’s the way to go. But honestly, do go ahead, and try them again – you’ll see.