soupnancy

Turkey

With Thanksgiving thoughts lingering, and the Christmas holidays right around the corner, some turkey talk seems over due..

For a good overview of turkey basics, different theories and methods with links: http://www.culinate.com/articles/features/how_to_make_turkey/

There’s always Judy’s bird, a dry-brined hit you could try: (Russ Parsons, LA Times)

http://www.latimes.com/features/food/la-fo-turkey19-2008nov19,0,4842837.story

I have an upcoming date with Ange and American Thanksgiving, at the same time as a slew of bird slaughters here at Morgan farms, which means I will have some pintade, Muscovy duck and wild turkey waiting for me to play with – stay posted for more bird talk..

Rabbit, Rabbit, Rabbit

I’ve had rabbit on the mind. To my delight, François showed up last week with some fresh specimens from one of our neighbours (maybe because I had been whining that it had been a while since we’d eaten a good rabbit..). So I cooked it up a few different ways and put it on the menu. I also had to get my course outline and orders in for an upcoming class I am giving on the subject, so it helped me get into the mood.

rabbit, fiddleheads, tomato crinkleroot dressing

braising rabbit legs

rabbit two ways, wild ginger mustard sauce, root veg

Since my first taste, I have loved rabbit. I’ve cooked it many times, and when it was on one of my menus or coming from the station I was working, I paid special attention to it; it was always my fetish dish, and inevitably heartbreaking because no one ordered it. I recall one exquisite dish that involved a mousseline with truffle (stuffed loin) and another I loved in gelée with pink peppercorn that I laboured over night after night only to have it sit in my fridge. If only they knew what they were missing out on I would think and swear,  ‘!?%$%*!!!’ (multiple obscenities in both languages). So obviously, when I went out to dinner, I made a point doing the opposite - eager to happen upon the rabbit marvel that was surely hiding quietly in someone else’s kitchen MEP.

If it’ is on the menu when I’m out, you can be sure I’m having it. Which means I’ve had some fabulous rabbit dishes and some less than stellar renditions over the years. I remember being served a brilliant rabbit dish at Globe way back when Dave and Fred were there, and I also once really enjoyed a rustic hunter style dish at Da Emma; I’ve let the flops fade from my memory. The thing is, rabbit is tricky. Well, it’s just that it can easily be dry, especially when the commonly farmed breed (New Zealand) falls in careless hands.

There are meatier, more flavourful breeds like the Silver fox or the American Chinchilla making a comeback; for more info and in depth rabbit talk, see the article in the last Art of Eating (Number 76). Maybe it was that terrific piece that stimulated me (the way AofE articles do), but then there were the two bites of a tease I had on a Valentine's tasting menu at the Relais Champêtre in St-Alexis, or perhaps it’s the fact that I drive by three ‘rabbit for sale’ signs every day on my way to work, although now two are covered in snow.  One is on a make-shift cardboard hand-written sign on someone’s lawn surrounded by knick-knacks strewn about, which are presumably also for sale; another reads ' A Vandre'.  Now I hate to be judgemental, but if you don't know how to spell 'for sale' or if your home looks like a junkyard, I tend to be a bit scared you haven't read the rabbit manual.  I'm hardly jumping out of my car seat dying to buy your rabbit no matter how much I love rabbit.  In any case, I got the message, the signs were sent, it was clear that it was high time I got to cooking rabbit again.  I made sure our rabbit came from the third one, the taxidermist (see sign below).. 

a rabbit sign (on my way to work)

rabbit in the raw

proscuitto rabbit loin rolls, ready to go

It’s unfortunate that rabbit has fallen out of favour because it was once a traditional food, and easy to raise or hunt (after all, rabbits breed like rabbits and like to eat vegetable scraps). People today don’t think to cook rabbit, maybe because they aren’t readily available and only available whole, making it more work intensive than buying ready-to-go cuts of meat.

Then there’s the reality that many Quebecois (and North Americans in general) have a bunny complex, skittish about eating something cute. In a restaurant setting, you know there will always be a chick squeamish about digging into Thumper (and it doesn’t help that we have a set menu at JS..). It’s hard to convince someone who’s emotionally biased like that. Saying it’s just like chicken doesn’t work. Even though it’s true; many compare it to chicken, and indeed many recipes for rabbit and chicken are interchangeable. Of course, it’s not the same, but chances are if you like chicken, you will like properly cooked rabbit. In an old Larousse (I think) there is a note on how to distinguish it from cat, so I guess it resembles cat too (in the skinned raw state I guess)– I can’t comment there; as far as I know, I have never eaten cat. And if it tastes like rabbit, well then I’m game.

Rabbit has such a unique, delicate, delicious flavour, it's fabulous in terrines and confit, and it makes the best stock. That’s why I think it is best stewed gently, but really it’s almost necessary to separate the loin from the legs (as for most birds and beasts) for correct doneness. The legs are easy, a regular braise for a little over an hour with some wine, stock, aromats, maybe some mustard and cream, or some wild mushrooms, or with tomato, herbs and olives.. The saddle or loin is best cooked in a short time, but still gently. Because it is lean, barding (covering in fat like bacon) is a good idea for a pan-roast, but I’ve found the best results with a short but low temperature sous-vide poach for tenderness, followed by a quick sear for flavour, and a rest in the juices. This recipe is inspired from Chapeau Canada (David Hawkesworth at West) - a bit of work maybe, but well worth it.

I can't finish a rabbit speel without mentioning Thomas Keller's treatment in his famous French Laundry Cookbook.  Not only does his reverence for rabbit and enticing recipes inspire and make you a believer, but his rabbit story is a gem.  It was a defining moment in his career when he was faced with a live rabbit hours before service, and he had to kill and skin it himself, after which trauma, he knew he had to do it justice and treat it with care in making the finest dish he could, not wasting a scrap - hammering home the importance of respect for the ingredient.

Saddle of rabbit with fresh herbs and and wild ginger mustard

Yield: 2 servings

- adapted from David Hawkesworth (West, Vancouver)

40 g caul fat (optional)

1 rabbit saddle, deboned

2 Tbsp chopped fresh herbs (rosemary, thyme, tarragon, chives..)

4 slices proscuitto

s.q. salt, pepper

15 ml olive oil

20 g butter

30 ml wild ginger mustard or wild mushroom mustard

200 ml chicken stock

Method:

1. Lay two pieces of caul fat on counter ( 8” squares) and place the proscuitto in the middle. The caul fat helps hold the package nicely together, but it’s not absolutely necessary. Lay the rabbit loin on top of the proscuitto, then sprinkle with herbs, season with salt and pepper, roll up, wrap in plastic wrap and tie ends with string.

2. Poach in 53C water for 30 minutes, refresh. Alternately, bring water to a boil, add rabbit rolls, turn off heat and let sit for 40 min. Cool immediately.

3. Slice rabbit into thick medallions, remove plastic. When ready to serve, pan sear medallions to nicely brown in olive oil, (standing up on the proscuitto edges to keep the rabbit meat ultra tender). Deglaze pan with chicken stock or a little white wine or water, let medallions sit down in jus and finish in medium-low oven to warm through (5 minutes).

4. Remove rabbit to rest and plate. Meanwhile, reduce pan juices down, whisk in butter to make pan jus, season to taste and serve over rabbit with a smear of mustard. The mustard can also go straight into the sauce if you want.

Another recipe I'll be doing with my students (with the legs this time): rabbit stew or civet revisited, a twist on a traditional recipe without the blood..

Civet of Rabbit

Yield: 4 servings

1 rabbit or hare, cut into serving pieces

1 c diced onion

½ c diced carrot

½ c diced celery

4 slices bacon, cut up

100g mushrooms, sliced

15 g dried porcini, rehydrated (keep soaking liquid, decanted)

30 ml red wine vinegar

250 ml red wine

3 ea parsley, thyme sprigs

20 g salted butter

20 g olive oil

700 mL chicken or duck stock

20 g unsweetened chocolate, chopped

s.q. flour for dredging

s.q. salt, pepper

Method:

1. Cook bacon to render the fat, add the mirepoix and cook, stirring over medium low heat. When soft, remove, leaving fat in pan.

2. Season and dredge rabbit pieces in flour, sauté and brown evenly.

3. Deglaze with vinegar and wine. Return vegetable mixture to pan.

4. Sauté mushrooms in butter and oil on the side and add to pan, along with diced reconstituted dried mushrooms and soaking liquid.

5. Add stock and bouquet garni. Bring to a simmer, and lower the heat to a low simmer. Cook until rabbit is tender (pulling off bone) and sauce is thick, about 1 hour.

6. Near the end of cooking, stir in chocolate. Taste and adjust seasoning.

7. Serve with rice lightly spiked with cinnamon, and/or roasted root vegetables or sweet potatoes.

Some other recipes, classic and not so..

First, one note: I find the cooking times often on the short side for the legs, probably because they don't want to overcook the saddle when the rabbit is cooked whole. Don't be afraid to throw the legs back in or use only legs for a ragout type recipe and cook longer. If you're cooking a large quantity (as I do), you can figure 2Hr (as opposed to one) for the legs to be perfect, ie. melt in the mouth, easily coming off the bone but not pasty.

Jamie Oliver’s Rabbit stew with dumplings

http://www.seriouseats.com/recipes/2008/02/cook-the-book-rabbit-stew-with-dumplings.html

Chef Simon’s Lapin à la moutarde (with detailed pictures, but in French)

http://www.chefsimon.com/lapin_moutarde.htm

From Gourmet:

Braised rabbit with egg noodles http://www.epicurious.com/recipes/food/views/108101

Paella with rabbit and artichokes http://www.epicurious.com/recipes/food/views/234657

From BBC:

Rabbit with calvados, port, thyme, bacon and juniper

http://www.bbc.co.uk/food/recipes/database/rabbitwithcalvadospo_681.shtml

What's cooking

The ingredient - Tongue

tongue before and after first cooking

tongue and cheek, with jerusalem artichoke, mustard balsamic sauce

tongue salad, crinkleroot, tomato and crisp onion

My strongest early ‘bad food’ memory involved tongue, circa age 8 or 10. We had been invited over to a friend of my parents’, and ever thrilled to be ‘eating out’, I showed up with a healthy appetite, only to have my mood abruptly change when a big slab of rugged beef tongue was placed before me. It looked like a giant tongue, felt like a giant tongue and was awfully chewy. I remember trying so hard to politely get it down, being brought up with the strictest of table manners, but I was gagging at every bite. The tortuous meal lasted for hours the way I remember it, with much time devoted to contriving strategies to make it disappear without having to ingest it. Whatever - I survived (and ate it all), but didn’t feel the need to taste another tongue for a while.

When I entered cooking school, I knew that as a cook I would have to put any squeamishness aside and bravely taste anew with an open mind. Tongue was easy enough to avoid for years, since as a chef you have to hunt it down, and it has never been a Montreal menu staple. However with offal all the rage, that might soon change. In any case, I’m already a convert. It turns out that the quality of the ingredients and proper cooking make all the difference in the world. I still can’t figure out what my mother’s friend did to make it so horrible, I suspect that it was an old tongue from an old cow and that she cooked it for too short a time.  Or she boiled it vigorously for two days, I don' know.  I think too that lamb and calf’s tongue are a better bet, sweeter tasting, more tender and more approachable than beef tongue. Venison tongue is delicious too. It all just tastes like a delicate braised meat with the bonus that it is traditionally served with zesty sauces that I naturally gravitate towards like ravigote or gribiche. I went on to serve it myself to many trusting friends and special clients who just swooned until they found out what it was. I even turned a few students around with a lamb tongue demo in crinkleroot mustard vinaigrette tiède.

The tradition of tongue is strong in Europe , especially in Britain and in France , and so it must have been here too until relatively recently (before industrial food, nose to tail eating was THE only way in any meat eating culture). The French put it in pot au feu and in sausage, the British in their boiled dinners and bar treats; it is easy enough to find either pickled or smoked, the Basque simmer it in wine and stock with tomato and onion in ‘ Lengua a la Tolosana’ , the Austrians serve it up with bacon, paprika and cream, and in Brazil, they put in in black bean stew.  It really isn’t so weird after all, and the possibilities are endless.

So, while writing up my Valentine’s menu last week, I was musing about sexy foods, and tongue seemed like an obvious choice; maybe as a part of a duo with the cheek (tongue and cheek), how clever I thought.. I knew some people might balk at the idea, so it would have to play a minor role, slipped in alongside other winner tastes. Anything scary sounding flies better as a small bouchée, entrée or part of a duo or trio, so that people can take it or leave it. They taste one thing, two things, like them and hopefully try that sketchy third thing, only to be pleasantly surprised. With a tough sell you believe in, it’s always best be careful with wording too (crepinette sounds better than caul fat, Lobster mushroom better than Dermatose de la Russule), and to throw winner ingredients around it (scallops, lobster, foie gras, proscuitto, homemade pasta etc) – oh the strategies of making a menu subconsciously appealing.. Anyway, I was determined to pull it off and put in on my menu without too many tricks. We have a devoted customer base, generally attract adventurous eaters, and plus I was convinced that people would love it if they tried it.

François, the easy going gourmand, surprisingly didn’t agree; he knew it was going to be rough going. Sure enough, customers have been ewing and opting out since the menu appeared. The phone is ringing off the wall with people fretting over the tongue. Many people just don’t want to try it. If people didn’t come because of a little tongue, then we had a problem. And even if they do, there is bound to be much discussion at the table, some reluctance, demands for menu changes, ie. juice, weeds, headaches.

Maybe I shouldn’t have written it on the menu, but then why bother serve it at all. My initial enthusiasm is now fading, and I’m beginning to regret my stubbornness. I hardly want to be fighting with customers. But now, it’s too late; it’s on the menu for better or for worse. It’s only an itty bitty tongue garnish, c’mon. I even added an extra amuse on the house, and will arm myself with a substitute for the staunchly fearful, and hope for the best. If anything, it will add some excitement to the night. I’ll report back with customer reaction next week.

In the meantime, to the kitchen I go, because tongue takes a couple of days.. Here is the plan of attack.

First locate a tongue or two. We get them directly from the slaughterhouse, but many butchers also carry them. Maison du Roti on Mount Royal always has veal tongue, lamb tongue occasionally. You must degorge it (soak it in several changes of cold water) and clean it first. Then it is simmered in water or court bouillon. Some people just cook it in water quickly (until it can be peeled), and then put it into their braise. It is easier to cook it entirely and then peel and slice, at which point you can and finish in sauce, a pot au feu or stew, or allow to cool in cooking liquid to serve cold.

I plan on serving mine warm in a boletus mustard veal jus spiked with some aged sherry vinegar, thyme and rosemary, alongside a meltingly tender veal cheek in a softer sauce, some Jerusalem artichoke purée, with some tempura pine mushrooms for textural contrast. However, I do really like it sliced thin and served cold in vinaigrette. I actually have a proper recipe to post because I had to elaborate one for my students last year..

Lamb’s tongue in vinaigrette (modified Ravigote)

Yield: 4 servings

1 lamb’s tongue, prepared

1 onion

1 clove

1 bouquet garni

1 L veal stock

15 ml white vinegar

Vinaigrette

15 ml Dijon mustard

60ml cider, sherry or good wine vinegar

1 shallot, minced

30 ml maple syrup

s.q. salt, pepper

40 ml extra virgin olive oil

30 ml chopped fresh herbs: parsley, tarragon, thyme

30 ml capers

½ thinly sliced red onion

Method:

1. Soak tongue in cold water overnight, renewing the water 2 or 3 times. Rub with rock salt and rinse. Or soak in lightly salted water for 1 hour. Scrub and rinse. Trim base, removing fatty parts.

2. Cover tongue with cold water or veal stock, add an onion with a clove, a bouquet garni, and 1 Tbsp vinegar per litre. Gently simmer tongue for 1 1/2-2 1/2hrs (lamb about an hour, calf’s tongue 2 1/2hrs) or until tender. The cooking liquid with make a broth that will be later transformed into a vinaigrette.

3. Remove tongue. Peel by making an incision at the base and skinning it towards the tip. Remove skin. Trim any gristle and/or small bones from root end of tongue . Slice and return to cooking liquid to cool or put straight into vinaigrette.

4. Make vinaigrette with Dijon mustard, cider vinegar, maple syrup, salt, pepper, fresh herbs and extra virgin olive oil. Emulsify with some of the veal tongue stock (100ml). Add capers and and onions. Pour over tongue and allow to marinate at least an hour or two, best overnight.

Serve cold or at room temperature in vinaigrette with some crusty bread and salad. Could be served warm too (maybe just use less cider vinegar), with potatoes, cabbage, beets or root veg. And don’t forget, when in doubt add bacon.

Other tongue recipes:

Alternatively, here are some creative recipes from chefs in NYC:

Pickled beef tongue with fried mayonnaise by Willie Dufresne (WD50) inspired by his dad’s pickled tongue, mayo and red onion sandwich. http://starchefs.com/chefs/rising_stars/2005/newyork/html/tongue_onion_w_dufresne.shtml

Pickled Tongue torchon with porcinis and marcona almonds by Chef Akhtar Nawab of The EU in New York , NY http://starchefs.com/chefs/rising_stars/2007/new_york/html/tongue_a_nawab.shtml

And some more traditional recipes:

Tongue with mustard horseradish sauce

http://www.epicurious.com/recipes/food/views/103380

A corned tongue recipe: http://recipes.lovetoknow.com/wiki/Corned_Tongue_Recipe

Tongue confit from Paula Wolfert’s Cooking of the Southwest of France