Tag Archive: Vegetables

Harvest Fusion

Q San Francisco
November 1997
Pages 44-45

harvestfusionMulticulturalism is the “ism” of the 1990s and food is no exception. I recently returned to my hometown in the Midwest to discover a new “multicultural” restaurant had opened in the midst of the university campus. The menu stated that each selection had been carefully designed to include “elements of the native cuisines of at least five foreign peoples.” The place was packed, the food was clashingly inedible, but everyone seemed to feel they were politically correct for eating there.

Now, mind you, I’m not opposed to so-called “fusion cuisine.” I am, after all, trained as a chef in both classical French and Japanese cooking. My wine experience has been multinational, and I am not one of those who feels that you should serve only French wine with cassoulet or Indian beer with curry. Nor am I one for rules in cooking that restrict you to not trying out new combinations. But for goodness sake, taste the damn dish before you put it on a plate, don’t just mix ingredients selected by opening your world atlas to random pages.

The United States is ostensibly a “melting pot,” a little multicultural haven on our spinning waterball, and we are approaching one of the few holidays that is unique to our country, Thanksgiving (okay, the Canadians do it too, but they’re just copying). Despite popular myth, there was no first pilgrim Thanksgiving in 1621 – they did indeed have a feast day (actually three days), in June, that included “the Indians,” they did indeed eat turkey (also pheasant, partridge, squab, and swan), and who knows, they may have even indulged in a cranberry or two. But for the pilgrims, a devoutly religious caste, a day of thanksgiving would have been a day of prayer and fasting, not revelry and gluttony.

When it comes down to it, Thanksgiving was created by presidential and later congressional decree, basically as a way to take a day off and celebrate America’s prosperity and diversity. Most countries have similar holidays – though, each that I’ve found is related to a particular harvest, such as rice harvest festivals or grape picking festivals or white truffle snuffling festivals. I thought that this year, I’d celebrate the holiday in this column with a little multicultural, multinational fusion of my own (just to prove it can work). Think of the “progressive dinners” where you eat each course at a different person’s house – only we’re going to do it in different countries; and just for the sake of diversity, I’m picking the cuisines and wines by opening my atlas at random.

The classic required dishes for the meal (at least in my view) are turkey, sweet potatoes, cranberry relish, and apple pie. Here’s the test of my multicultural sensibilities in the kitchen – the countries picked are: the Netherlands, Afghanistan, Ireland, and Ecuador. I decided on coming up with two white wine recommendations and two red wine recommendations, and the regional winners are (sensibly using a wine atlas). . . St. Emilion, France; Robertson, South Africa; Badacsony, Hungary; and South Australia.

The Netherlands are easy. Let’s face it, the potato is practically the national tree. One of the most classic dishes of Dutch cuisine is hutspot, sometimes called in English, “hotchpotch.” Substituting sweet potatoes for boiling potatoes yields up a delicious sidedish to accompany your Ecuadorian Escabeche de Pavo con Higos or Wild Turkey Escabeche with Figs (a dish based on a recipe from one of the most famous chefs in our community’s history, Felipe Rojas-Lombardi).

Given the sweetness and fruitiness of the fig sauce, cranberry relish seemed like fruit overkill, so, from Ireland, I went with traditional scones – substituting cranberries for the usual currants. For dessert, classic Afghani apple turnovers – my only question – do they really have apple trees in Afghanistan?

With the dinner coming together nicely, it’s time to select the wines. Since, with Thanksgiving, dinner is usually buffet style, the white and red can be offered at the same time, leaving the choice up to each person’s preference. For the whites, the Hungarian first – Badacsony is famous for its white wines, especially Pinot Gris. With all the fruit and sweetness of the various dishes, try Hungarovin’s Badacsonyi Szurkebarat, or “Grey Friar of Badacsony,” a medium-dry version. From South Australia, specifically the Clare Vale, one of my favorite white wines, full of tropical fruit flavors and just a touch of sweetness, Tim Adams Semillon.

On the red side, Robertson, South Africa is easy, because there’s one truly world-class producer, Hamilton-Russell, and they make one of the finest Pinot Noir’s you’ll ever have the pleasure to drink. St. Emilion has another fave, Château Clos des Jacobins, a Merlot and Cabernet blend that is soft and rich in fruit.

Good eating and a Happy (and now, no doubt, politically correct) Thanksgiving!


Recipes

Wild Turkey Escabeche with Figs (Serves 6-8)

1 wild turkey (about 7 pounds)
3 quarts of chicken or turkey stock
1 bottle of white wine
1 cup whole blanched almonds
4 large onions, peeled and sliced in
1/8″-1/4″ rings
1 cup port
3 cups sherry vinegar
8 large dried figs (1/2 pound)
20 dried pitted dates (1/4 pound)
12-15 pitted prunes (1/4 pound)
3 sprigs of mint
1/4 cup cooking oil

Spices:
2″ piece of ginger, sliced
2 teaspoons cumin seed
2 teaspoons turmeric
12 whole cloves
12 whole allspice berries
2 dried hot peppers

Combine stock, wine, and all spices and bring to a boil. Reduce heat and simmer for 1/2 an hour. Pour over turkey in roasting pan and roast for 2-1/2 to 3 hours at 350F, basting regularly. Remove turkey and set aside, strain the stock and reduce by boiling to 4-5 cups. Meanwhile, heat oil in large saute pan, add the nuts and onions and saute, stirring continuously, till onions are translucent, about 3 minutes. Add port, bring to a boil and cook till liquid has evaporated, about 5 minutes. Add vinegar and the reduced stock, simmer for 10 minutes. Add the figs, cook for 15 minutes, then the dates and cook for 5 minutes more, then the prunes and cook for 10 minutes more. Carve the turkey, which by now will have cooled somewhat, and ladle the hot fruit sauce over it.


Hutspot

2/3 pounds onions
4 pounds sweet potatoes
2 pounds carrots
milk
4 tablespoons butter

Scrub and mince carrots. Peel, wash, and slice onions and potatoes, and add them to the carrots. Boil until done (about 30 minutes).

Mash all the vegetables and add butter and salt and pepper to taste. If too thick add some milk (but a spoon must stand up in it).


Cranberry Scones

3 cups all purpose flour
2 teaspoons cream of tartar
1 teaspoon baking soda
pinch of salt
4 ounces butter
2 ounces sugar
3/4 cup of cranberries
(thawed if they were frozen)
2 eggs, slightly beaten
8-10 tablespoons of buttermilk

Sift flour, salt, baking soda, and cream of tartar into a bowl. Rub the butter into the mixture with your fingers till it is light and crumbly. Stir in sugar and cranberries. Add egg and 6 tablespoons of the buttermilk and mix till it comes together as a dough. If it is too dry, add more buttermilk. Don’t overmix or it will become stiff.

Take ping-pong sized balls of dough and press out into 1/2″ thick, 1-1/2″ across rounds.

Bake at 350F on a baking sheet for 10 minutes till lightly browned.


Afghani Apple Turnovers

2 cups whole wheat flour
1 cup white flour
1 teaspoon salt
1-1/2 cups water
2-1/4 pounds slightly tart apples
1/2 cup brown sugar
1 cup raisins
1 tablespoon ground cinnamon
Juice of 1 lime
1/4 cup apple juice

In a bowl, mix together the flours and salt. Add the water and stir vigorously until it is well mixed.

When it becomes too stiff to stir, turn out on a floured board and knead for 5 minutes till smooth and not sticky. Wrap in plastic and let sit for 30 minutes. Cut the apples into small chunks, mix with remaining ingredients.

Divide dough into 12 equal pieces. Roll each out to a 7″ circle. Place 1/2 a cup of apple mixture just off-centered on each round and fold over. Pinch the edges together decoratively.

Bake at 350F for 20-25 minutes till golden brown.


Q San Francisco magazine premiered in late 1995 as a ultra-slick, ultra-hip gay lifestyle magazine targeted primarily for the San Francisco community. It was launched by my friends Don Tuthill and Robert Adams, respectively the publisher and editor-in-chief, who had owned and run Genre magazine for several years prior. They asked me to come along as the food and wine geek, umm, editor, for this venture as well. In order to devote their time to Passport magazine, their newest venture, they ceased publication of QSF in early 2003.

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Summer Salads

Q San Francisco
July 1997
Pages 42-43

Summer Salads

saladsIn cooking school we learned that there are two kinds of salads, simple and composed. Simple salads consist of a single ingredient, like lettuce, with a basic sauce. Hearts of iceberg with Green Goddess dressing. Composed salads consist of, well, more than one simple salad put together, and, we were told, never tossed: jello mold with carrots and pineapple chunks on a leaf of iceberg lettuce with a mayo dressing…

At home, in my early years, we grew up on the simple type – a bit of lettuce, perhaps a tomato wedge or two, tossed with our choice of Kraft or Wishbone, French, Blue Cheese, or the aforementioned Green Goddess (I have a recipe for the stuff buried somewhere around here). But sometime in my early teens my parents discovered a salad bar at some local eatery. I think it was The Gandy Dancer (don’t ask me), an old railway station converted to a temple of haute cuisine. From that day on we had selections of things like croutons, bacon bits, and green pepper slivers, tossed with our choice of the same three dressings.

On picnics we had salads that didn’t involve green vegetables – potato salad, macaroni salad, chicken, or tuna salad. Nothing like mayo in the hot sun. Fruit salads made their appearance at special events like birthdays and Thursdays.

Turning to the various bibles of cuisine, the Larousse Gastronomique gives a lovely recipe for an “American Salad.” This is an artfully arranged bowl of lettuce, canned pineapple, canned corn, cucumber, egg, and diced chicken topped with ketchup flavored vinaigrette. Now I realize that it is in some small way our fault that there are fast-food chains in downtown Paris, but that’s no call to get nasty. Famed nineteenth-century chef Auguste Escoffier begs to differ in his tome, Ma Cuisine. His American Salad is an odd combo of tomato, pineapple, orange sections, banana slices, and lettuce topped with orange juice sweetened mayonnaise. Although, strangely enough, if you remove the banana slices and add a little fresh cream to the mix he calls it a Japanese Salad. Go figure.

As summertime arrives, so do chances for picnics, outdoor dining, and romantic candlelight suppers on terraces. Salads are perfect for these warm weather occasions, and without any more rambling, here are three of my favorites.


Spinach Salad

1 bunch of fresh baby spinach leaves
1 red onion
1 pint of strawberries
2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
1 tablespoon balsamic vinegar
1 teaspoon honey sea salt coarsely ground black pepper

That’s right, spinach. But not the cooked mushy stuff from a can your mother made you eat. If you just can’t stomach spinach, substitute other strongly flavored fresh baby greens. Wash and dry the spinach leaves, trim off the stems. Thinly slice the onion. Quarter the strawberries. Lightly whisk the oil, vinegar, and honey together, and season to taste with salt and pepper. Toss with spinach, onion, and strawberries just before serving. Serve by candlelight. On the terrace.


Herb Salad

1 bunch, each fresh:
flat leaf parsley
chervil
tarragon
chives
thyme
marjoram
1 head garlic
1/4 cup + 1 teaspoon olive oil
1 tablespoon red wine vinegar
coarse salt
crushed mixed color peppercorns

We normally think of herbs as mere flavor complements to other ingredients. But what’s wrong with a strongly flavored salad–especially with fresh green herbs just picked. Wash and dry the herbs. Pick the leaves from the stems; for the chives cut in short links, about 1″ long. Soak the head of garlic in water for five minutes, place on a small baking sheet, and drizzle with the 1 teaspoon of oil. Roast at 350F for 20-30 minutes until soft. Let cool, cut the top off the head of garlic, and squeeze out the roasted garlic paste. Mix with remaining oil, vinegar, salt, and pepper to taste. Toss herbs together and drizzle lightly with roasted garlic dressing. Hmmm… Serve by candlelight. On the terrace.


Potato Salad

2 lbs small new potatoes
1/4 lb of thick cut bacon
3/4 cup creme fraiche
1 teaspoon white truffle oil
2 tablespoons stoneground mustard
1 tablespoon chopped fresh chives
salt and pepper

Wash potatoes, cut in bite-sized pieces (halves or quarters), and cover with cold salted water. Bring to a boil and simmer until soft. Meanwhile, dice bacon into small, 1/4″ pieces, spread out on a baking sheet, and bake at 250F, stirring occasionally, until cooked through. Drain off the fat. Blend remaining ingredients together and season to taste. Drain potatoes, add bacon bits, and, while the potatoes are still warm, add dressing mixture. Serve warm or room temperature. Forget the candlelight and terrace. Take this one on a romantic picnic.


Wine is always tough on salads. Vinegar and wine are not the world’s best complements. You need something with a bit of acidity, and maybe a bit of sweetness. Chenin blanc may be the best grape for the job. From California, try Pine Ridge Chenin Blanc, Yountville Cuvee, or the Chapellet “Old Vines Cuvee.” From France, the Loire Valley is home to the best of these wines. I like the Chapin Landais Vouvray, or splurge a little on a Clos de la Coulee de la Serrant Savennieres.


Q San Francisco magazine premiered in late 1995 as a ultra-slick, ultra-hip gay lifestyle magazine targeted primarily for the San Francisco community. It was launched by my friends Don Tuthill and Robert Adams, respectively the publisher and editor-in-chief, who had owned and run Genre magazine for several years prior. They asked me to come along as the food and wine geek, umm, editor, for this venture as well. In order to devote their time to Passport magazine, their newest venture, they ceased publication of QSF in early 2003.

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Spring Vegetable Menu

19970413

Spring is sprung and all that – I went vegetable for the dinner. I recall no complaints.

Second Sunday Supper Circle
Spring Vegetable Menu

Mint & Basil Gazpacho
La Scolca Brut Riserva, 1987

Red Bean Mousse Tart
with Creminis & Blueberries
Domaine des Aubuisieres Vouvray Sec, 1992

Roasted Yellow Tomato & Sugar Snap Pea Timbale
with Oyster Mushrooms & Plum-Saffron Mayonaisse
Hugel Gewurztraminer, 1993

Okra Cakes
Domaine la Condamine Fitou, 1991

Grilled Portobello Caps Stuffed
with Fennel & Fig Risotto
Coppo Barbera d’Asti “Pomorosso”, 1986

Vanilla & Three Cheese-Cake
Chateau Reynella “Old Cave” Tawny Port, N.V.

April 13, 1997

26134_16
The red bean mouse tart

26134_17
The gang, from left to right – friends Ross, Frank, Bob, Theresa, and my boyfriend Mark

26134_18
The okra cakes

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The Burger Lover’s Ultimate Burger

Q San Francisco
April/May 1996
Pages 42-43

The Burger Lover’s Ultimate Burger

There are swimsuit issues for sports magazines, for fashion magazines, for car and truck magazines, even for pet magazines. As best I can tell, nobody has ever done a swimsuit issue for a food and wine magazine. I’m going to do the next best thing. Welcome to the swimsuit edition of the food and wine column. The priority here is to find a beach. Now, for those of you who don’t happen to live on an ocean coast, a lakefront beach or riverbank will prove perfectly suitable. I grew up with outings on the Huron River in southern Michigan, so I know this works. Wear appropriately skimpy clothing, don’t mousse your hair (windblown or mussed is the proper look for beaches) and bring along your local all-purpose insect repellent.

While cold picnics are the easiest route to travel here – and nobody enjoys a wedge of Camembert, genoa salami, piccoline olives, baguettes and champagne more than I do – anyone can pack a cold picnic. You and I will be equipped for a proper cookout.

First, build a fire. I like to use a hibachi, but any small grill, or dig a small sandpit, will do. This serves three purposes. It gives you something to cook over and it will keep you warm as the shadows lengthen into early evening. Most importantly, it will bring down a cadre of state troopers who start by telling you about the rules of the beach and end by joining you in a game of beach blanket twister.

After finishing your man or woman in a uniform fantasy, it’s time to get cooking. The obvious all-American choices are hot dogs and hamburgers. I much prefer the latter, so, without further rambling, here is my definitive guide to the world of Burgers on the Beach – for those carnivorous and those herbivorous.


The Carnivore’s Ultimate Burger

1-1/2 pound sirloin, coarsely chopped
1/4 pound foie gras paté
1 small onion, chopped
1 green bell pepper, chopped
1/4 cup mixed, chopped herbs (the classics – parsley, sage, rosemary & thyme – are perfect here)
1/4 cup red wine
2 tablespoons oyster sauce
1 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon black pepper
1 small red onion, dijon mustard, sourdough rolls

Mix all but last line of ingredients together. I like the coarsely chopped beef because it has more bite to it than finely ground. The paté will add flavor, fat, and help hold it all together. You can use different herbs if you prefer, adjust the salt and pepper to your tastes. Make into four patties and grill to the appropriate doneness for you and your guests. Given that you’re using good sirloin, err on the rare side. Top with a slice of red onion, mustard and serve on sourdough rolls.


The Pescivore’s Ultimate Burger

3/4 pound fresh salmon, chopped
3/4 pound fresh tuna, chopped
Juice and grated peel of 1 lemon
2 eggs
2 cloves garlic, minced
1/4 cup black olives, chopped
1/4 cup parsley, chopped
1/4 cup chives, chopped
1 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon white pepper
1 tomato, dijon mustard and/or mayonnaise, sourdough rolls

Mix all but last line of ingredients together. Make into four patties. Salmon and tuna make a great combination in a burger – I’d cook this medium rare, but that’s me. The eggs will hold it together, make sure the patties are tightly packed so they don’t fall apart. Serve topped with sliced tomato, a little mustard and mayo, on, once again, a good sourdough roll.


The Herbivore’s Ultimate Burger

1/4 pound mushrooms, chopped
1 medium onion, chopped
2 carrots, grated
4 garlic cloves, minced
1/2 cup walnut pieces
1/3 cup sunflower seeds
1/3 cup sesame seeds
1/2 cup wheat germ
1/4 cup parsley, chopped
1 tablespoon dill, chopped
2 tablespoons tahini
3/4 cups chickpeas
2 tablespoons soy sauce
2 tablespoons lemon juice
1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper
1/2 teaspoon cumin seed
1 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon white pepper
salsa, sourdough rolls

This one requires a little advance cooking, and a few more ingredients than the others, but it’s worth it. Even meat eaters will love this version of a veggie burger. Saute the first four ingredients in a little olive oil till soft and lightly browned. Remove from heat, cool, add the other ingredients, and form into patties. This will make about eight burgers, but it’s too hard to make in smaller quantities. You can freeze any extras and save them for future outings. Grill and serve topped with your favorite salsa – on, what else? A sourdough roll.


The Burger Lover’s Ultimate Wine Picks

Now the truth is, being at a beach calls for champagne. Serve it pre-dinner, while everyone is waiting for those burgers to come off the grill. Being a nice hot summer day, go for something on the light side with lots of acidity and fruit. If you can find it, Ployez-Jacquemart Brut Extra Quality is my top pick. I’d also go for Dom Ruinart Blanc de Blancs or Champagne Deutz Brut. On the domestic front, I’m particularly fond of both Iron Horse Brut and Schramsberg Blanc de Blancs. If you’re feeling particularly budget conscious, go for a sparkling wine from Spain, I tend to like the Codorníu Brut Clasico.

Now you could continue to serve sparkling wine throughout dinner. But the carnivore burger just screams out for red wine. From the French side, I’ve always felt that the best hamburger wine is Château Greysac. There’s something about a good Bordeaux and beef, and this wine just captures the right combination of flavors to go with a burger. The paté and herbs in the burger add a dimension of flavor that works especially well with more rustic styled wines. A nice lighter style Rioja from Spain, like Bodegas Montecillo Viña Cumbrero or a fruity and spicy Cantina Zaccagnini “dal tralcetto” Montepulciano d’Abruzzo take top honors from the rest of Europe. Back in the U.S. of A., Acacia Pinot Noir and Lolonis Petite Syrah from California or Palmer Cabernet Franc from New York top my list.

The salmon and tuna burger can go either way, red or white. As regular readers know, I’m fond of many pink wines, which is where I’d go with this one. From Provençe, Domaines Ott Château Romassan Rosé “Cuvee Marine” Bandol with its spicy, herbal flavors gets my first pick. Julián Chivite Gran Feudo Rosé from Navarra, Spain comes in a close second. And for those, like me, who just can’t resist sparkling wines, especially at the beach, Argyle Brut Rosé from Oregon can’t be beat in the out of doors.

I can’t count the number of times I’ve been told how difficult it is to pick wines for vegetarian cuisine. And one “macrobiotic” customer of mine spent five minutes giving me a lecture on the evils of alcohol while he downed his third cola of the meal and asked for another. Nonsense. Vegetarian cuisine is the easiest to pick for – the flavors are fresh and bright, the herbal and vegetal qualities match some of the best that wine has to offer. This veggie burger can also go either way, and, in truth, almost any of the wines above would go well. But to particularly accentuate the flavors, try the Z Moore Gewurztraminer or the Jekel Vineyards Johannisberg Riesling, both from California. My favorite German Rieslings come from J.J. Christofel, for those of you into spending a little more. On the red side, a lighter Pinot noir from Burgundy, like Château de la Charrière Santenay would be a good choice. William Baccala Estate Merlot from Napa is another winner.


Q San Francisco magazine premiered in late 1995 as a ultra-slick, ultra-hip gay lifestyle magazine targeted primarily for the San Francisco community. It was launched by my friends Don Tuthill and Robert Adams, respectively the publisher and editor-in-chief, who had owned and run Genre magazine for several years prior. They asked me to come along as the food and wine geek, umm, editor, for this venture as well. In order to devote their time to Passport magazine, their newest venture, they ceased publication of QSF in early 2003.

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Très Veggie

GENRE
November 1994

Hungry Man
Très Veggie

Vegetarian Meals with a French Twist

When I think of France, I think of my grandmother, an adorable young man named Daniel, and food. Admittedly, being a chef, when I think of anything I think of food. But France, more than anywhere else on earth, seems to be inextricably entwined with visions of the pleasures of eating – often to excess.

The remnants of my grade-school French allow me to inquire how to get to the local métro stop, ask the whereabouts of the pen of my aunt, and understand the chorus to “Lady Marmalade.” Luckily, my kitchen French is a bit better, and I generally know what someone is talking about when they say omelette, bon bon, or café au lait. I even know the word for vegetables, légumes, though I admit I had to look up where to put the accent.

In considering French cooking, vegetables are not the first thing that comes to mind, let alone vegetarian cooking. Even the 1,193-page bible of French cuisine, the Larousse Gastronomique, grants a grand total of one paragraph to vegetarianism and two to veganism, the latter referring to the outdated belief that it’s difficult to have a balanced diet in such a strict regimen. On the other hand, vegetables and grains are the core of Niçois and Provençal cuisines in the south of France, and cooks there wouldn’t think of serving a meal without them. The Niçois even claim to know more than 70 ways to cook vegetables – a claim that puts Americans to shame, since most of us have trouble handling boil-in-the-bag peas.

The French also have a devotion to eggs and things dairy – cheese, milk, cream and butter. For those who are looking for the strictly vegetarian, it often looks like a challenge to cook in a French manner. Luckily, it is indeed possible to cook without dairy and not risk offending your nearest francophile.

Among the vegetables that are available, but not common in use in the U.S., is fennel. This beautiful light-green bulb has a crisp, slight licorice taste that is delicious raw in salads or braised to brighten those cool fall evening meals. Although simple, this recipe is guaranteed to delight your tastebuds.

Braised Fennel

6 fennel bulbs
2 tablespoons olive oil
salt and fresh black pepper
4 cups vegetable stock (yes, the omnivores among you may use chicken or beef stock)
¼ cup white wine

Trim the hard outer stalks of the fennel bulbs and wash and dry the bulbs. Heat the olive oil in a large pan. Sprinkle the bulbs with salt and pepper and quickly sauté in the olive oil until they just begin to color. Add stock (though homemade would be preferred, bouillon cubes dissolved in water is acceptable) and the wine, and bring to a boil. Reduce the heat to low, cover the pan and simmer for an hour until the bulbs are tender to the touch. Slice the bulbs lengthwise, season with salt and pepper, and serve hot. Makes enough for six as a side dish or two as a main course.

Carrots are among the favorite vegetables for many of us. I don’t know if it’s the bright orange color that reminds us of our school days in the safety patrol, or that buttery, sugary taste of candied carrots that mom used to make for special occasions. Updating that classic French dish gives us something that will bring a smile to any adult’s face, let alone a kid’s.

Carrot Fondue

(Fondue is not only the name for the classic Swiss dish with all those long color-coded forks and a bubbling pot of some unknown substance in the center of the table, but also a classic French cooking method of slowly cooking vegetables in butter or cream until very soft. Obviously, this one isn’t for the strict vegans.)

4 carrots
1 pint of heavy cream
salt and freshly ground pepper
Angostura bitters
2 tablespoons Madeira wine
2 tablespoons honey

Peel and finely dice the carrots, or thinly slice them. Put them in a heavy saucepan and cover them with the cream. Add a dash of bitters and the wine. Bring to a simmer and cook over very low heat until the carrots are soft and the cream has mostly absorbed into them. Add the honey, stir and serve. Makes enough for one to four, depending on how far you get from the stove before you taste….


Genre is a gay “lifestyle” and travel magazine. It was launched in 1992 by three entrepreneurs, two of whom shortly thereafter left to found QSF magazine. I went with them…

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Letters from New York

Le Repertoire
Miami Chapter of the American Culinary Federation
June 1994
Page 6

Letters from New York

Pea shoots are no longer in. That’s the word from the frontlines here in the Big Apple. I have to admit, I never quite understood why pea shoots were in in the first place, but they were. Baby vegetables are still in. I’ve seen some absolutely stunning presentations of baby beets (come to think of it, I think I designed one of the plates…) using red, yellow, and pink and white striped beets – so sweet they melt like candy in your mouth. Morel mushrooms are making a comeback. After several years of shiitakes, enokis and portobellos, morels are now the mushroom of choice in trendy restaurants across Manhattan Island. Somehow or other we skipped the $125 a pound matsutake insanity.

Speaking of trendy restaurants, I’m not sure that they’re quite the trend anymore. While last year there was a big hullabaloo about the return to “comfort foods,” somehow or other that didn’t end up meaning menus overflowing with pot-pies, fried chicken, and macaroni and cheese. Sure a few daring chefs dared to try such outré items, but that wasn’t quite what the populous wanted. They wanted things that “reminded” them of comfort food. You know, maybe put a little cheese on something, or a sauce that was just slightly heartier than a celery infusion?

See, the problem is, we chefs and the media have gotten everyone so into these bright oils and vinegars and teeny dices of vegetables, that they all went out and learned how to do those things at home. Now, when they go out, they want something different. They want, dare we say it, classic cuisine. Maybe not thick, heavy butter and flour sauces, but definitely headed that direction. As Australian humorist and food writer Terry Durack recently put it, who said we have to be thin anyway?

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Is It Soup Yet?

GENRE
May 1994

Hungry Man
Is It Soup Yet?

The True Test of a Chef’s Artistry

I grew up, like most of us thirty-somethings, believing that soup came in little red-and-white cans. Then it started coming in little red-and-white foil envelopes in little red-and-white boxes. We were red-and-white with wonder. Both versions said to mix with water, heat, and serve. Wow! Food even a college freshman could cook.

By the time I was 18 or so, I must have tried chicken with or without vegetables, rice, noodles, or matzo balls, beef with vegetables or barley, split pea with ham, and French onion with cheese and croutons. I hated cream of tomato.

I’m not 18 anymore (sorry, guys) and I’ve tried soup that comes out of a real pot. I realize it’s not as simple as opening a can or box, but the little bit of inconvenience is worth it. It’s not hard. Put solid things in liquid things. Cook or not. Soup.

Okay, so there are a few things that might not qualify. You won’t find me simmering pebbles (the stone kind, not the fruity) and chocolate chips in basil vinegar. Really. I’m not even sure we could get anyone to agree that it’s soup, even if it fits the technical definition. I’m also not putting it on the lunch menu. Trust me.

Soup fills the world of literature, from the Mock Turtle’s tribute in verse to “Beautiful Soup” in Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland to Robert Browning’s Hamelin rats lapping it up left and right. Whether it is the creation of a culinary genius like Fritz Brenner in Rex Stout’s Nero Wolfe mysteries, or the production of the entire village in Marcia Brown’s Stone Soup, soup is a mainstay of the dining table.

To the best of my knowledge, every human culture on this planet and two others makes soup. There are simple ones, like Italian Stracciatella, with its flakes of egg and cheese sprinkled through chicken broth, or Kaeng Tom Yam Kung, from Thailand, with beautiful shrimp and lemongrass simmered in hot spices. There are thick soups – New England Clam Chowder, Vermont Cheddar Cheese, English Mulligatawny, and Algerian Cherbah. Even life itself started in a primordial soup.

In the professional world, a chef’s soups are considered a mark of his or her abilities. The French chef must have perfectly seasoned broths, crystal-clear consommés, and rich, unctuous flavors. The Japanese kokku is noted for stunning presentations of sea life in clear dashi, with simple, clean flavors. And Aunt Edna is noted for bowls of fresh chicken broth, each with a matzo ball you could knock down tenpins with.

There is an old Spanish proverb, “Of soup and love, the first is best.” (Well, actually, it’s “De sopa y amor, el primero es mejor.”) Whomever first said it was obviously experienced in such matters. It is spring, and it’s clear to me that if spring is a time for love, it is, even more, a time for soup.

Gazpacho Soup

Gazpacho is the perfect spring or summer soup, served cold, with crisp, clean vegetable flavors. Not only that, but it’s easy to make. This version serves six.

3 ripe tomatoes
1 cucumber
1 yellow onion
1 green pepper
1 carrot
2-3 cloves garlic
3 tablespoons really, really good olive oil
1 tablespoon red wine vinegar
¼ cup good sherry
2 teaspoons salt
½ teaspoon black pepper
½ cup fresh herbs, like mint, marjoram, or parsley
1 cup ice water

Finely chop the tomatoes, carrot, garlic and herbs. Peel and seed the cucumber. Dice the cucumber, onion and pepper. Mix all ingredients in a large bowl, and keep cold until ready to serve. Adjust seasoning to taste; add additional ice water if needed to thin the soup.

Leek Soup

Okay, you have to cook this one, but it’s worth it.

2 large leeks, coarsely chopped
3 cups chicken stock
2 cups milk
1 teaspoon salt
½ teaspoon white pepper
¼ teaspoon mace (the spice, not the spray…)
4 teaspoons butter
thick sliced whole-wheat bread
brick cheese, grated
parmesan cheese, grated

Sauté leeks in butter until limp but not browned. Add milk, stock, and seasonings. Simmer 30 minutes. Put slices of bread in individual oven-proof soup crocks. Fill with soup, top with grated cheeses. Broil until brown and bubbly. Serves four.


Genre is a gay “lifestyle” and travel magazine. It was launched in 1992 by three entrepreneurs, two of whom shortly thereafter left to found QSF magazine. I went with them…

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