Thursday, October 29, 2009

Romancing the Vine

It won’t be long until this year’s Beaujolais Nouveau is ready for sipping. As a sort of fruity post-it note on my mental fridge, for the past few weeks the market has been brimming with gorgeous bunches of table grapes. They are mostly of the Muscat variety, some purple, almost black, some translucent green, like glass marbles. The flavor is very concentrated – as the weeks go by, they get plumper and sweeter – soaking up those extra rays of sunshine.

I’ve been meaning to try a roast with fresh grapes ever since G.’s godfather Affif, an Algerian painter and very talented cook, made his quail with cinnamon and raisins for a New Year's Eve feast a few years back. He kept the pot simmering for hours; it smelled like it might rain cinnamon in the kitchen; the sauce was as thick as molasses. In season, he makes it with fresh grapes…

Quails are fancy, Babette’s Feast
kind of food. What I wanted was a friendly roast for a family dinner, with just the barest gloss of sophistication. I chose veal for the mild flavor, and a texture I knew would end up falling-off-the-bone tender after a few hours in a low oven.

When I’m making up a recipe from scratch, I tend to keep it simple – fear of, as my grandmother would say, “gilding the lily”. I browned the meat, added a mixture of butter and oil to the pot, and sautéed an onion. My only touch of whimsy was from the spice rack. I wanted the warmth of cinnamon and clove, but also a little heat to balance out the sweetness of the grapes. My current obsession in a bottle is a blend of spices called Mille et Une Nuits (1001 Nights). It could be called 1001 ingredients – as my 30 gram jar contains a heady mélange of coriander, cumin, curcuma, cinnamon, ginger, clove, rose petals, tarragon, garlic, bay, nutmeg, celery, and salt. I found it at Goumanyat & Son Royaume, my favorite Paris spice boutique – which I’ll take you to at some point. (Note to self: Do a shopping post – between Goumanyat and Cisternino, the Italian cooperative – I keep promising to take to yummy places – I’d better follow up!) I found the brand, Thiercelin, online, but they sell only to chefs - I’m thinking seriously of making up a restaurant (and a VAT number) – so I can buy my safran sugar and black pepper syrup direct.

Barring that, I think I found an online shop that will sell to us plebs.

The roast needed a good 3 hours in the oven – it took that long for the meat to fall apart (there’s always a scary moment with a braised dish, about 2 hours in it still has the texture of an old baseball), but also for the liquid to reduce. As the grapes popped one by one, they released a torrent of juice – which took time to transform itself into a mellow, respectable sauce.

For me, the high point of an afternoon of slow cooking is bring the finished product to an expectant table. As you can see, Augustin has taken to sitting with us during dinner in his baby seat, a bit like Louis XIV presiding over dinner with his courtiers. By the by, the gorgeous blond at the end of the table - with the off the shoulder black top - that’s my sixty year old mother-in-law, which gives you some idea of the Parisian peer pressure to lose those last post-pregnancy pounds and buy some hot new clothes in the January sales. If I’m going to look like Nicole when I’m sixty, I have some catching up (or rather, down) to do.


Garnished with the fresh grapes, the veal roast looked spectacular (If I do say so myself). The sauce, mellowed by the meat juices, was not overly sweet. If I were allowed to play with my food at the table (alas, Grandma is always watching), I would have made a well in the center of my mashed potatoes and poured the sauce straight in...

Braised Veal Shank with Fresh Muscat Grapes

3 lb bone-in veal shank
Coarse sea salt
1 tablespoon butter
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 teaspoon Mille et Une Nuits seasoning (or a mix of coriander, cumin, curcuma, cinnamon, ginger with a pinch of clove and nutmeg)
2 cups of white wine
2 lbs Muscat grapes (Concord grapes would also work nicely, I think)

Preheat the oven to 325 degrees.

In a Dutch oven, brown the veal shank on all sides. Season with salt. Remove the veal shank to a plate. Add the butter, oil, onions and spices to the pot – sauté until golden.

Add the veal shank and any meat juices back to the pot. Add white wine and surround the roast with most of the grapes (reserve a few small bunches for garnish). Bring to a boil. Cover and put in the oven for 3 hours, until meat is falling from the bone.

Remove meat from the pot and reduce sauce slightly if necessary. Serve meat covered with sauce and garnished with fresh grapes. Mashed potatoes (even if you can't play with them) are great for soaking up the gravy.

Serves 4

Friday, October 23, 2009

A Week in Provence

Back from a windy and wonderful week in Provence with my parents. We stayed with our friends Angela and Rod at La Belle Cour – their lovely bed and breakfast in the village of Cereste. Augustin camped out in a dresser drawer…which he seemed to enjoy. I’m still waiting for the American mommy police to arrest me for not buying a baby travel bed.

Angela served lunch outside on Friday – (“Provence has 320 days of sunshine a year”, announced Rod when we first met). There was local ham, curled into neat ribbons, and a wonderful salad of lamb’s lettuce, julienned beets, tender dried dates, pine nuts (or was it walnuts) and crisp slices of apple, all dressed in a tart lemon/olive oil vinaigrette. It’s just the kind of simple but inspired combination that I want to keep in mind for future sunny autumn afternoons. The finale was a local goat cheese from Banon – wrapped in the dried leaves of a chestnut tree.
Saturday morning we went to the outdoor food market in Apt – it takes over the entire town, basically my idea of shopping nirvana. My mother and I parked the boys at a cafe. Now there are officially three generations of bored gentlemen waiting to carry our shopping bags.
Among the olives, boar sausages, and enormous tomes of cheese, I found a stand where you could taste the jams and chutneys…a tiny plastic spoon in every jar. I walked away with a jar of compote de fenouil (fennel chutney) and some melon preserves.
Saturday evening we celebrated birthdays, arrivals and just general well being at La Manade, an intimate restaurant in Apt with only 8 tables. Their menu is limited (in a good way) and grounded in seasonal products. It is mushroom hunting time in the region – so I had the silky mixed mushroom soup to start, topped with a dollop of foie gras whipped cream (file that under terribly good idea). My main course was a local daube made with taureau (native black bull) and topped with candied orange peel. Below is a photo G’s dessert – a sable cookie topped with chocolate ganache topped with pistachio custard (oh, how I love all things pistachio). And below that, the wall of glasses (mean, mean man) that he constructed to block my incoming arm. G. knows that being married to me involves a curious second spoon in anything he orders. He is normally very good-natured about ceding half his dinner - but every once and while he gets surly and defends his territory. I admit, it’s a slippery slope. As soon as Augustin learns to use a fork, there’s a very good chance G. will be eating sloppy thirds, instead of sloppy seconds.

Though he is not quite ready for a fork, Augustin did start smiling this past week. It’s like watching the lights go on on top of the Empire State Building. It changes everything. He doesn’t just need me, he likes me. Of course he also smiles at Lili the musical chicken, who has orange polka dot legs and a rattle inside her left foot. I think I could take Lili in a bar fight, but for now I’m hanging back. In the immortal words of John Wayne: never come between a man and his musical chicken.Tuesday night was my night to cook, and Angela liked the idea of my rabbit with Pastis (from a post in July). Of course, I was late getting started (cocktail hour run long…) – by the time I entered the kitchen I found Angela over the computer, Rod over the pot, my mother over a wine glass and Paul over his iphone, recording the whole thing.
I’ve never watched anyone try to follow one of my recipes before. Especially since I seem to have forgotten half the ingredients. I bought zucchini instead of fennel, and fresh peas were no longer in season. The spirit of improvisation took over. Rod added an extra slug of Pastis to the browning veggies (very good, I’ll be adding that to the original), and Angela (God save the Queen), had a bag of peas in the freezer (added a few minutes before the end, they work just fine). Looking to compensate for the forgotten fennel – I threw some fennel seeds into the pot for good measure.
On fine china and linen, we sat down to our meal. Dear reader, it’s official. Good friends can save any recipe.