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Tag: and Wine Bars of Paris

Dining on rabbit and lamb with Chris Stanton

August 23, 2013 / / 3 Comments

I’m in Houston, and I’m eating a lot, immersing myself into this sprawling city’s culinary offerings. Angela and I have dined at several places recently, and I have been solo at some others. With one exception – Triniti – the food has been good, some of it very good, including an excellent snapper at Reef and some wonderful Thai (including a soft shell crab) in the waterside town of Seabrook, south of Houston toward Galveston. Angela especially loved her scallop and shrimp curry there, and the evening ended up at the bar with two of the town’s finest, one of who gave us his recommendations, which included a sushi place in Houston.

Yesterday for lunch I had tacos at Tacos A Go-Go … pork and chicken guisado (stewed). Perfect bites, long, slow cooking, corn tortillas. All for $4.00. Last night Chris Stanton, a friend and former colleague of mine from the Abu Dhabi and Dubai days, and I shared a table at Provisions, and the meal began with Bone Marrow Brioche/Tomato Jam/sheep’s cheese, followed by Ham O’ Day (a prosciutto from America’s Midwest).

Provisions' Ham 'O Day

Provisions’ Ham ‘O Day

I would have liked more marrow and marrow taste in the bread pairing, an opinion that Chris shared, and the tomato jam was a tad too sweet, but the cheese was excellent – a bit crumbly, soft mouth feel, slightly creamy yet pungent. The ham, which came atop a light mustard sauce, imparted a salty taste at the back of the palate, which at first Chris and I did not like. But then a funkiness set in, and that made us hunger for more. We agreed that the curing was carried out well, and we were happy.

We were drinking a 2008 Bodegas Aster Crianza, and the ham’s funkiness enhanced its taste. At $32 a bottle it is one of the least expensive wines on Provisions’ list, and is a good value.

Sweet (overly sweet) lamb ribs at Provision

Sweet (overly sweet) lamb ribs at Provision

To the lamb. And to Korea, because that’s the first thing my brain thought of when I put one of the ribs in my mouth. They were crisp on the outside, and fairly tender meat was underneath. Unfortunately they were overly sweet. We tasted plum and brown sugar, and I would swear that some molasses was in the mix. We wanted less sugar, richer meat. But that did not stop us from finishing the dish. (We turned our attention to the paté before we finished the ribs, and when we returned to them they had cooled off, which enhanced their taste. They were better close to cold.)

Rabbit paté en croute, fit for a fine Spring

Rabbit paté en croute, fit for a fine Spring

A first bite of the rabbit paté told us that, while excellent, it should never be ordered with the lamb ribs. Pea tendrils graced the top of the rabbit, and a bite of that dish, followed by a taste of the ribs, took us from the freshness of spring to a brisk and smoky autumn evening. Too jarring, too discordant. Both great plates, but if they eloped their romance would never last.

How many people does it take to make pasta?

How many people does it take to make pasta?

Chris prepares pasta, in the Dubai kitchen that Angela and I shared.

Chris prepares pasta, in the Dubai kitchen that Angela and I shared.

Chris and I shared an apartment in Abu Dhabi in 2008, and when I first met him I considered myself very fortunate, because he loves food, and he loves to cook. And he is a good cook, intuitive. We teamed up well in our kitchen, and produced some great plates together, including a salmon tartare cone (thank you, Thomas Keller) and, with the help of his parents, a wonderful Thanksgiving dinner for 14.

During our dinner at Provisions Chris asked me as we were eating the ham how much I knew about curing meat, and told me that a visit to the Staten Island home of a friend of his father’s marked the beginning of his passion for food. Chris was 8, and they made fresh pasta and sliced some homemade prosciutto and drank some wine made by a grandfather from Italy. Chris showed me a photo of the salumeria in that Staten Island home, and I share it with you. (Please notice the crucifix at the upper left of this photo. It is indeed blessed meat.)

Meat cures on Staten Island. (Photo courtesy of Chris Stanton)

Meat cures on Staten Island. (Photo courtesy of Chris Stanton)

I replied that I knew a lot about the process of aging and curing, but other than dry-aging a steak I have never had the opportunity nor time to do it. That is going to change, however, and Chris and I are making plans to create a salumeria of our own, so stay tuned.

Thinking of France and Chickens

April 13, 2012 / / 0 Comments

I lived in Paris for about seven months in 2005, and I miss that city, and France, especially when I am shopping for food. For most of my time there during that year I lived in the 10th, near the fine old Marché Saint-Quentin. It was built in 1866, and is a lovely covered market with lots of glass and iron. And it is full of great produce and fish and cheese and meat and poultry of all sorts.

A good place to shop: Le marché Saint-Quentin, in Paris' 10th.

A good place to shop: Le marché Saint-Quentin, in Paris’ 10th.

I shopped there three or four times a week, and most weeks bought a chicken, usually from the same woman, because hers seemed the freshest. Indeed, some of them had been killed the night before I cooked them. I bought them with the feet and heads still on, and appreciated their organic wholeness.

Most of the time I roasted them, which I am confident is the best way to cook a chicken, though fried chicken is a close second. Every now and then, though, I liked to poach a bird in cream, lots of cream. Two quarts, to be exact. Two quarts of fresh light cream, cream that tasted better than any milkshake I have ever had, and I imagined it coming from the most perfect dairy cow in France.

I’ve forgotten where I first saw a recipe for this dish, but it is an age-old technique, and many of you have undoubtedly poached chicken breasts before. One recipe I used recently as a foundation comes from Daniel Young’s “The Bistros, Brasseries, and Wine Bars of Paris.” I brined the bird when I made it this week, eight hours in a water/salt/sugar/black peppercorn solution.

Chicken brining in a plastic bag.

Chicken brining in a plastic bag.

Here’s how you do it:

Rinse the chicken inside and out with cool water and pat dry. Let stand at room temperature for 20 minutes, then season liberally inside and out with salt and pepper. While the chicken is waiting, heat two cups of chicken stock (you can use bouillon cubes) and heat the oven to 325 Fahrenheit. 

Carrots, onions, and celery, and a chicken

Carrots, onions, and celery, and a chicken

Peel two carrots and cut them in half; do the same to two onions and two turnips. To these, add the white part of one leek. I also like to use two stalks of celery, cut in half. (You can peel the celery if you want.) Put the chicken in a Dutch oven and then pour in the stock and the cream and add the vegetables to the mix. Heat on the stovetop over moderately high heat until just below boil. Put the lid on the mixture and put it in the oven for about two hours.

It's a bird surrounded by cream and vegetables – what's not to like?

It’s a bird surrounded by cream and vegetables – what’s not to like?

Remove the chicken and vegetables from the Dutch oven and keep warm; pour two to three cups of the cream mixture through a fine sieve into a saucepan and cook over medium heat, whisking the sauce until it thickens, for five minutes or so. 

Arrange the chicken and vegetable on a platter and pour as much of the sauce over them as you wish. I like to get a leg and breast on my plate, and the carrots and onions take on a flavor that will make you want to double the quantity of them next time you make this. (A final note: it is best to use a large chicken here, say, five pounds, but a bird of that size is difficult to find in many places, so if you use a smaller bird, just reduce the amount of cream.)

It really is very simple, and what results is chicken reminiscent of what you get when you make Chicken and Dumplings – moist and rich. And the sauce will have you thinking of milkshakes. I drank a Côtes de Duras blanc with the dish this week.

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