Southern Fried French

A French Dip by the Sea, with a Little Bit of Italy

Painting by N. Pino, spotted at an outdoor market at Cap Ferrat

We are hunters and seekers of new restaurants, but when it comes to  our vacation in Nice, we’ve got a Monday routine we never depart from.  Let me give you the mise-en-scène:  We’re at the famous Nice Marché des Puces, a weekly event which is an allée a quarter of a mile long, choc-a-block with irresistible flea market finds on tables under colorful parasols.  The buskers are out in force--a saxaphonist here, a gypsy swing band there, and one woman of a certain age who belts out  vintage French tunes, acapella. The market street is lined with cafés and restaurants, with their outdoor terraces and awnings in happy colors.  And the best people-watching spot of all is the Safari Restaurant, a haven of local specialties.   

We book a sunny table  early and settle in for the show.  Last week, part of the show was a stunning dish that arrived at the table of a Frenchman sitting alone at a nearby table, smoking his Gauloise and reading Le Monde---everything but the beret.  His order looked so interesting that we ended up gathered around his table, grilling him about it.  He politely answered our questions, though he kept looking longingly at his lunch.  After putting him through that I didn’t dare ask to take a picture, though I’m regretting it now. Photos, the Nice Monday market.

Bagna Couda (‘warm bath’ in Italian) is from Italy’s Piedmont region but has made its way over the border here, as so many dishes do.  It’s a collection of beautiful vegetables (particular  
veggies, by tradition), served with a luscious warm anchovy sauce.  Here is the legend of how it came to be:  back in the day, farmers in the hilly Piedmont went down to the Liguria region to barter, mainly for salt.  Salt was a prized commodity and heavily taxed.  They put the salt in wooden barrels and topped it with anchovies, to hide the salt from the tax collectors they might encounter on the road.  Fish was a rarity in the Piedmont, but vegetables were plentiful, so creative cooks invented this recipe to marry the two, thus recycling their fishy cover-up. 

I can’t get Ron within a mile of an anchovy, so I started thinking of variations.  I decided a hot spicy shrimp dip with garlic had a bit of the same spirit.   But there are endless possibilities here, and I’m sure some of you have some ideas for what to slather on those beautiful veggies.  I’ve posted an anchovy dip recipe, by a famous Italian chef.  My shrimp dip is below, too. I’m thinking a roasted cauliflower dip with roasted garlic would also be good …. now what about your ideas? 

 

RECIPE:  Bagna Couda, Two Ways    

Photo: at home I’d put the veggies in a pretty basket with high sides.  In a rental house, one makes do with whatever’s in the cabinet!  

For the vegetables: 

The traditional veggies are red peppers, zucchini, endive, cauliflower, and fennel.  But there are lots of other possibilities.  Asparagus and  radicchio would be nice additions, for example.  Serving them skinny and vertical, as the restaurant did, makes a pretty presentation. 

In Italy this is often a cool weather feast and  they might also use  celery, baked onions, turnips, or pumpkins, apples, Jerusalem artichokes, brussels sprouts, boiled potatoes, and hunchback thistle (!). 

For the anchovy sauce:  

This recipe is by Marcella Hazan.  It serves 4 to 6.  

1⁄2 cup extra-virgin olive oil
3 tbsp. butter
2 cloves garlic, finely chopped
10 salt-cured anchovy filets, rinsed, boned,
   and finely chopped
Kosher salt

1. Heat oil and butter in a pot over medium-high heat until butter begins to foam. Add garlic; cook for 10 seconds.

2. Reduce heat to medium-low and add anchovies. Cook, stirring and mashing anchovies with a wooden spoon, until anchovies are broken into very small pieces and dip is cloudy, 3–4 minutes.

3. Season with salt to taste and serve immediately.

Or, Lynn’s Hot Baked Shrimp Dip:

Shrimp paste, a pureéd spread, is a Charleston favorite, but lacking a food processor at this rental house, after one aborted attempt with the wrong tool I simply mashed it up with a fork, which  actually turned out  better for this recipe (cooking tip du jour:  do not try to make shrimp paste with an immersion blender). 

For two: 

• 1/2 pound  ( 226 gr) cooked shrimp, peeled and chopped fine
• 4 oz. (113 gr)  cream cheese
• 1 tablespoon mayonnaise
• 1 tablespoon sour cream
• 1 tablespoon finely chopped onion
• 1 large garlic clove, pressed
• dash of tabasco
• 1/2 teaspoon woster sauce
• 2 teaspoons lemon juice

• grated parmesan cheese
• chopped chives
• baguette

Pre-heat oven to 375.  Mash all ingredients  together well.  Bake about 15 minutes.  Remove from oven and turn broiler on.  Sprinkle with a bit of parmesan cheese and chives, and run under the broiler for just a minute or two until cheese starts to brown.  Serve hot with vegetables and a baguette.  Photo:  A chef riffs on Bagna Cauda at a Paris restaurant. 

Favorite Reads:  Marzella Hazen’s cookbook is the one I grab when I want an authentic Italian recipe.  Her bookMarcella's Italian Kitchen is a classic, but she’s written several. Her son has written a cookbook of quick recipes called Every Night Italian: 120 Simple, Delicious Recipes You Can Make in 45 Minutes or Less. Click on the links to order.

 But the best read of the week is at one of our reader's and frequent commenter's blog, Julie Farrar's Traveling Through.... Don't miss  her beautifully written post called "Rhetoric, Don't Leave Home  Without it".

NEW FEATURE:  'Ron's Corner':  Mostly inappropriate comments from THE HUSBAND.  This week:  "A glass full of vegetables?  What's for lunch?"

Unless otherwise attributed, all POSTS, PHOTOS and RECIPES on this blog copyright ©2010 Lynn McBride.  All Rights Reserved. 

 

A 'French Cheese Virgin' Gets an Education

When I grew up, the closest I got to a cheese course was grabbing one of those orange squares, individually wrapped in plastic, and putting it on some Wonder Bread with a slice of bologna.  I hope the US gastronomic reputation will not forever be tarnished by the name of this delicacy:  'American Cheese'.  So when I came to France, it’s no wonder I was intimidated by folks who can keep up with several hundred artisanal cheeses and discuss them at length.

As you regular readers know, I figured out a system for putting together a sensational plateau de fromage, an assortment of cheeses for the cheese course (see the 5/28/10 guest blog at http://thedailybasics.com).  But my education did not end there.  Learning about cheese, like learning  about wine and the French language, is a lifetime endeavor.

At dinner with friends this week, cheese took over as the  main topic of conversation.  Bennett, a Californian in the midst of a French immersion program,  had just learned the origin of cheese in class that day.  It all probably started when sheep were first domesticated, perhaps as early as 8000 BC.  Shepards used skins, often the stomachs of animals, as vessels to carry milk.  Early astute cooks noticed that something interesting happened when the stomach enzymes began to ferment the milk, especially after it was ‘churned‘ by the galloping of the horses when it was transported.  Photo, Sheep at Château de Balleure: where it all began.

Over a plateau de fromage, our French guests began to educate Bennett on the proper way to serve oneself when the cheese is offered.  You will be given a small plate and a knife.  If the cheese is round, you cut a pie-shaped wedge with the knife on the platter. If the cheese is very soft, like the famed ‘aromatic’ Epoisse pictured above, you scoop out a spoonful onto your plate.  But what about that big wedge of Bleu de St. Agur or Compté, lying on its side?  A common mistake is to take a slice from the thinnest, center part of the wedge.  Very mal élevé (badly brought up).  Pourquoi, you say?  The quality of cheese often varies within the round.  The center may be the prime part, or the edge may the best, depending on the type of cheese.  In any case, cutting a slice off from thick edge to narrow center assures that every person gets their share of the the best bits (as in above photo). 

Then, you tear off a piece of your bread, and use your knife to cut and place a bite-sized morceau of cheese on top.   With this you sip your red wine, always served with the cheese course with the exception of fondue, which goes better with white wine.  

Our guests  Jean-Marie and Marion also told Bennett about the buying and storing of cheese. Cheeses that ripe are rarely ready to eat when you purchase them.  You store them, wrapped, in the fridge and sniff them daily until they smell just right.  A Brie or a Camembert (which Jean-Marie says is the best French cheese) will have a soft center, and the color of the rind will darken slightly.  If it smells of ammonia, you have waited too long.  Marion advised that the cheeses that are marked down and past their expiration date are the best to buy, because they are generally ripe and ready to eat.

Please don’t commit that mortal sin of serving your cheese cold, they cautioned.  Take it out of the fridge 3 or 4 hours before you serve it.  Photo of cheeses at Les Halles in Lyon by Patricia Glee.

Marion then shared with us a most clever little recipe for dealing with the leftovers from a plateau de fromage.  If you live in France, (or if you’re a cheese-o-phile),  you will invariably end up with dribs and drabs of this and that leftover cheese, their packages becoming ever smaller as the week goes on. They seem to multiply in the frige, especially after a dinner party.  Now I know what to do with them.  This sounds so delicous you may be tempted to go out and buy a fresh assortment  just to try it.

RECiPE:  Hot Baked Cheese Mélange à la Marion  

Take several bits of any sort of leftover soft cheese (it’s best if you have a little blue cheese for the mix) and put them all in an ovenproof ramekin.  Trim off any rinds that are thick or have seen their better days.    

Microwave the cheese just until it’s melted, less than a minute.  Stir in a garlic clove, pressed, and some black pepper.  Add a splash of cognac, or white wine, plus a sprinkling of herbes de Provence if you like. You can keep it in the ramekin at this point, or put it into a shallow, oven proof dish.  

Top the cheese with bread crumbs (hopefully you have some in the freezer, made from your leftover baguettes).  Run it under the broiler briefly until the crumbs are golden brown.  Put it in the center of the table, crack open a bottle of red, give everyone some bread for scooping, and watch it disappear.

Favorite Reads:  For a good overview of French cheeses and a quick reference, I've used French Cheeses by Kazuko Masui for years.  If you really want to be a pro, check out Mastering Cheese: Lessons for Connoisseurship from a Maitre Fomager.  It's an exhaustive study of cheese and a fun read besides.  The  cover photos alone will have you drooling. 

In the Comments this week:  A Latin lesson this week from Mark Kane of  www.yourgardenshow.com. Sic transit gloria mundi, "thus passes the glory of the world", he says in discussing his travel memories of a glam Moroccan resort.  Patricia is dreaming of fresh artichokes and seafood on the Italian riviera, and Mark and Harriet know Cap Ferrat.  Meanwhile Jacqui, back on French living destinations, chooses Bonnieux.  Bon voyage, or at least beaux rêves, to all!

Unless otherwise attributed, all POSTS, PHOTOS and RECIPES on this blog copyright ©2010 Lynn McBride.  All Rights Reserved. 

 

Slummin’ on Cap Ferrat

Though we've come to the Cote d'Azur before, I’m always dazzled when we round the corner to the first of the big views.  Each time I forget how unearthly blue the water is, how colorful are the pastel buildings that sweep of coastline, how perfectly the snow covered alps in the distance frame the scene.

If the Cote d’Azur has a fatal flaw, that would be its popularity.  With wall to wall  development, no peace-loving traveler would venture here in July and August when the European masses descend.  The rest of the year it’s busy but not annoyingly so.  March is just on the cusp of the season. We've showed up unfashionably early, which suits us fine.   

There is one really quiet spot we know that has some breathing room, the tiny peninsula of Cap Ferrat.  But quiet on the Riviera comes with a big price tag.  After all, there's a bit a royalty, a slew of CEO's and a shah or two. We read once that the Cap has the most expensive real estate on the planet.  Instead of stacks of condos, there are villas, not with gardens but with grounds.  They are mostly hidden from the street by high hedges and imposing gates, and on the other side they face the sea, proudly perched on high cliffs that drop straight down to a rocky shore.  The villas are the colors of tropical flowers, peach and gold and rose, or baked terra cotta.  Others are as white as a wedding cake and just as ornamented.  From the road, one catches just a glimpse of the marble balustrade of a balcony cantilevered over the sea, or a teasing peek at a lush garden.  Photo:  Will this one do?  The Villa Ephrussi de Rothschild.

And yet, if you visit here, as I’m sure many of you have, you don't need to pack your Prada or your pretensions.  The money here is old, and discretion is the mot du jour. The tiny town of St. Jean on the Cap is simple and sublime, the restaurants are straightforward and not too pricey, and it’s possible to spend a perfectly reasonable vacation here.  Or, of course, an exclusive luxious one.

I love all the contrasts in France, so I was delighted to find the modest working boats of the local fisherman parked alongside the shiny yachts in the lovely, half-moon of a harbor in St. Jean.  I wandered down to the makeshift fish stall that pops up a couple of days each week, in search of something for dinner.  Les pêcheurs were busy pulling out the hundreds of tiny, silvery girelles that were caught in their nets.  These will be deep fried and served as frittures.  They are eaten whole, the bones and head just adding to the crunch.  There was also a frightening looking creature called a lotte, with a wide head, bulging eyes and serious teeth.  He was still alive and gasping for air, pauvre bête.  Then there was un poulpe, a whole octopus, looking rather gray and slimy.

Uninspired to make a seafood dinner after making eye contact with that monkfish, I went back and made instead one of my very favorite vegetable dishes, which is a Nice specialty, though I suspect they borrowed it from the Italians.  This dish I can only describe as rapturous, with a fresh taste of early spring. 

 

RECIPE:  Artichauts Cru Niçois (Niçois Raw Artichoke Salad)

Who knew you could eat artichokes raw?  It’s essential to use the best, freshest ingredients for this dish, and it's better to use baby artichokes, which are more tender, though you can use the large ones. I’ve seen the little ones in the states at gourmet food markets.  Here they come 5 or 6 to the bunch, with long stems.  The globes are about the size of a lemon, and are purpley green. One bunch will make a small side salad for two.  

Cut the globes from the woody stems.  Remove the outer leaves, just the ones that are easy to pull off, leaving the tighter inner leaves.  Remove the soft, fibrous core at the bottom, by making a cone-shaped cut with your paring knife. Next cut off half an inch of the remaining leaves at the top.  Cut it in half and you’re ready to slice, lenthwise (see photo, and note below).  Slice as thin as you can; the leaves will separate as you slice. If you’re making a large quantity, put them in a lemon-water bath to hold them as you prepare them, they turn brown quickly. 

(By the way, the best way to slice these is to use a Mandoline.  I bought a plastic one for $20  that was recommended by Gourmet and it works like a charm for all sorts of things. It's makes a great potato gratin for example. Click on the  blue link if you want more info).

Put chopped artichokes into a bowl, and squeeze a lemon over all.  Just before serving add a couple of tablespoons of good olive oil, then toss it all with about 1/3 cup of freshly grated parmesan, sea salt and pepper.  Divine! 

If you go to Cap Ferrat:  A reasonable (in the off-season) and beautifully situated hotel is the Brise Marine.  If you’re looking for a luxury vacation, you can certainly find it here, at the Royal Riviera or the super deluxe Grand Hotel. For holiday rentals, my American friend Shelly has 5 beautifully decorated places, from cozy flat to romantic villa, at http://rivieraexperience.com/. Whatever  you do, don’t miss les Sentiers du Littoral, a series of walks around the cliffs of the Cap (photo)  and surrounding coastal areas that are surely some of the most dramatically beautiful walks in the world.  And all for free! 

Favorite Reads, and a special film:   To really experience the glamour of the Cap, watch the classic film To Catch a Thief with Cary Grant and Grace Kelly, filmed in the area and at the Villa Rothschild.   And if you enjoyed Carol Drinkwater's memoir of her Olive Farm, you might also like The Olive Route, the story of her personal journey around the Mediterranean basin.  Just click on the blue links.

Highlights from the comments this past week:  Mark says, poetically, that the subject of last week's blog on where to live in France "...gives shapes to our dreams."  I love that.  Our Dear Readers have some great ideas of their own on pursuing their dream, and I there are some good travel ideas too. Like Rueil Malmaison, suggested by Barbara. Sarah, Angers is on my travel list.  Maureen suggests Colmar, which is one of the most flowery and charming villages I know.  Marlane, I love Narbonne too, and Perpignan.  Carol, Julie, and Jackie like the beauty of northern Burgundy.  Beth and Alicia mention towns that are a stone's throw from the subject of today's post!  Mille mercis for all the fun comments.

Unless otherwise attributed, all POSTS, PHOTOS and RECIPES on this blog copyright ©2010 Lynn McBride.  All Rights Reserved.

Where would YOU move to in France?

 La  campagne:  A Burgundy farmhouse

If you’re reading this blog, you may have the fantasy of spending some extended time in France, or even making it your home or second home.  I recommend it!  Though it’s not a large country, it’s chock full of very distinct regions, each with their own personality.  How to choose the one that suits you?

Having lived here eight years now, I’m going to be bold and try to give you a two-minute summary of where the ex-pats often choose to live, and why. These are only the opinions of the management.  Dear Readers, I’m hoping some of you jump in with  your experiences.

First, wannabee France dwellers need to set up some personal criteria.  For us it was this: We wanted to live IN a village in the French countryside, less than 10 minutes from a town with commerce; no more than 30 minutes from a  middle sized city;  and no more than one hour from a major metropolis.  Sounds easy, right?  Pas de tout.  There are not a lot of big cities, and there are a lot of rural areas. (Some are VERY rural and isolé, which can be great, if you like things really quiet and you’re on a  tight budget).  In addition, we wanted the ‘wow’ factor:  beautiful scenery and charming, historic villages.  We didn’t expect the ‘wow’ of a château, but we just got lucky.

Then there's that pesky problem of the budget.  Can you drop a couple of mil? Then head for the Med.  Would $50,000 stretch your budget?  There's a house in the countryside just waiting for you.

Here is something else to consider:  France has one major north/south autoroute  from Paris to the Med.  TGV lines are strong along this route as well.  So if you want to see a lot of Europe,  (which was and is our goal), you’re way ahead of the game if you live somewhere along this route, as we do. And, you can quickly zip up to Paris  or to the Med on the train, if you’re close to a TGV stop.  (Example: for us Paris is a four and a half hour drive but the TGV takes an hour and twenty minutes).

Here is my highly biased summary: 

Normandy/Brittany: popular with the Brits because of its proximity to England.  Lots of rugged coastline (but not tropical--think Maine, or New England).  Beautiful, but notorious for its rainy gray weather, possible in any season. Photo:  House with a view, Normandy.

Burgundy: has a mixed international crowd because of its location, but few Americans.   Easy access to the autoroute and TGV, close to  the borders of Italy, Switzerland, Germany, Belgium and the UK is a pretty quick trip. Nice weather May to October; winter is cold and often gray, with snow off and on. Villages are  historically authentic, not overdeveloped. Rolling verdant hills, pastoral. Moderate priced real estate.

Provence:  lots of Americans and Brits, (good news or bad, depending on your preference). Doesn't always live up to its hype and there is more development than in most regions, but plenty of charming villages and history.  Hot summers, cold winters but not much snow.  The Mistral can be annoying.  The most common landscape is wide, flat plateaus with dramatic, steep,  rocky mountains around them.  Drier, often desert-esque, with colors of silver, sage, and sand.  Fairly expensive.  Like Burgundy, the TGV and autoroute make it easy for French and European travel.  Photo:  Provence shows off its charm. 

The southwest:  hugely popular with the British, who are in search of sunshine and bargain properties, to the point that they’ve taken over in some areas.  Great variety of terrain, more sunshine here; winters are generally cold.   The Lot/Dordogne is beautiful, landscapes resemble Burgundy but in general it's more isolated.  Choose the southwest if you like Spain;  the rest of Europe is not easily to get to, and Paris is only if you live in or around Bordeaux where the TGV goes.   On the southwest coastline of the Med I find that there is a lot of new, dense, tacky development, but there are some pretty coastal destinations as well. 

The Cote d’Azur and its hinterlands: Weather is relatively temperate year round. Breathtaking scenery, semi-tropical landscape, cliffs looking down over amazingly blue water. Heavily developed, though you can find  a few quiet areas, and quite expensive.  An abundance of second homes. Photo: Pretty, pricey, and packed on the Cote d'azur.

The Atlantic Coast:  Sunny, and attractive but a different feel from the Med; coastline is quite flat, not the dramatic scenery of the Cote d’azur.

For skiers there are the Alps of course, and then there’s the lovely Loire valley, and some central areas to the west that are popular with the English--well, and a multitude of other  pretty places, yours to discover.

For city dwellers:  Paris, of course, is Paris.  If you don’t expect consistently good weather and you love the city, it’s the place for you.  Lyon, my husband’s hands-down favorite, is a pretty, colorful,peninsula city, and very walkable. 
Strasbourg, with its half-timbered houses, is surprisingly beautiful with flower-lined canals winding through the city.  Personally I love Nice, gritty and gorgeous and so quirky  and independent that some say it's 'not the real France.' 

Photo:  in the heart of Lyon 

OK you French and frequent France travelers, can you help out our other readers? What area would YOU choose to live in?

No RECIPE this week.  The cook has gone fishin’!  For seafood at the restaurants around Nice, that is, where we’re visiting this week.

Favorite Reads:  Our go-to book when we were planning a move to France was The Grown-Up's Guide to Living in France.  I'm also fond of At Home in France, Ann Barry's account of buying a second home in a village in the Dordogne, as a single woman.  Click on the links to order. 

Highlights from the Comments this week:  Lordy, everyone's got got opinions on cast iron skillets! Julie married a southern boy who came with one. now how lucky is that! There were several tips on where to find them, including Wal-Mart, per Sarah.  L.M. has a 3rd generation skillet, Carol's husband has three.  Several folks mentioned cornbread--it there any other way to cook it than in a black skillet?    Then there's the question of soap or no soap; I use it, but watch the video that Augusta suggests for more info.  Don't miss Kathy's recipe for steak with a great pan sauce.  And yes, Leslie, those skillets do get around--even the English claim them!

 

French Sauce, Southern Skillet

Mickey's skillets:  my mom's cast iron skillets are even older than mine.

When I made the salmon recipe for the blog last week, I had to do it over  for the photo because Iit was overcooked.  Well, make that really crispy.  Oh all RIGHT, I burned the hell out of it!  It happens.  But I have an excuse.  Here is why. 

We were back in Charleston at the time, staying in a house we rented.  I do not know Madame who owns the house personally, but I do know this about her: she is not a cook, nor is he.  When I opened the kitchen utensil drawer, here is what I found, and nothing else:  three corkscrews.  I picture Madame waving a bejewled hand at her husband to open the wine while she pulls on her pumps, the two of them deciding where they will dine each night as they sip their sauvignon blanc. 

I know this about this couple, too:  they are, as we say in Charleston, from Off.  There is one item missing in this sparsely stocked kitchen which any southerner worth their grits would have, even my mother who hates to cook:  a big ole cast iron skillet, heavy and seasoned,  charred to a jet black.   

Things just cook better in a black skillet (of course mine has traveled with me to Burgundy).   It’s slow to heat up, the heat is even, and anything from catfish to foie gras to french toast browns up beautifully in it.  I’ve had mine since the first time I fired up a stove.  I wouldn’t have burned my salmon in THIS pan.  Not like the thin, aluminum, teflon-coated piece of junk that Madame has placed, unused, into the kitchen of her Charleston maison secondaire, with which my salmon was not at all pleased. 

I bought my skillet on King Street in Charleston, in the beautiful art deco building that was then the Kress five and dime.  We won’t talk about how many years ago THAT was, but let’s just say that it’s well seasoned.  A soupçon of irony here: one of the few places you can buy a cast iron skillet these days is at Williams Sonoma, which now occupies the old Kress building.  I found an iron skillet there the other day on a bottom shelf, a step away from where I bought the first one, but the surroundings were a lot more upscale this time.  Still, I couldn’t go over to the counter afterwards and get one of those chocolate shakes where they scoop the ice cream into that stainless steel shaker and whirl it around, all dished out by the  Counter Girl in a mint-green apron who called you Honey.  For that, I’d take the Kress any day. 

Photo:  Williams Sonoma is great, but I miss the Kress Counter Girls.

Now I know just what you’re thinking about that cast iron skillet.  You’ve heard tell you have to season it--how do you do it?  And is it true you’re not supposed to ever wash it?  Well, I’m fixin’ to tell you everything you need to know about a black skillet. 

There are many ways to season a skillet, but they all involve heating andd oiling it.  Coat the skillet generously in shortening or lard, and heat it in a 350 degree oven (175 C) for one hour, with a jelly roll pan under it for drips.  It should come out black and shiny.  Cool it and wipe it down.  Repeat this process to make it even better.  It will continue to ‘season’ as you cook with it.  To wash it, use a mild detergent or salt, but nothing too abrasive and do not soak it in water.  But it’s easy to clean and you can't really burn it, so you won’t need to. 

Now you’re ready to  go.  You can heat it ‘til it sizzles, whip up some mean fried chicken,or just cook the perfect fried egg. And you will have discovered one of the great secrets of southern cooking. 

 

If you don’t have a black skillet, here is where to find one.  I recommend a 12 inch (30 cm) as a good  basic size.  Bayou Classic makes a nice one. If you prefer the pre-seasoned type, try Emerilware Cast Iron 12 Inch Skillet.   Need more info? The Cast Iron Skillet Cookbook: Recipes for the Best Pan in Your Kitchen is for you.  Click on the blue links to order any of these.

French Connection:  The black skillet is perfect for making those beloved French sauces.  Serious cooks can stop reading here, but I’m always surprised at how many folks are daunted by making a simple week-night sauce for a pork chop, a steak, or a piece of chicken.  So here is a primer on making a quick sauce, and knowing this you can go your own creative way.  

 

RECIPE:  One Technique, A Zillion Sauces

This technique calls for de-glazing the pan and making a reduction, which is where a cast-iron skillet shines.  Basically you need some meat, a fat such as olive oil or butter to sauté it in, and a liquid to de-glaze the pan with, which is usually quickly reduced to about half. 

First you sauté the meat in oil or butter.  Meat with a bit of fat on it is going to give you the best flavor for your sauce.  If you’re cooking chicken, it's better with the skin on it.   

When the meat is done, you will have some fat and brown bits in the bottom of your pan. You now have a fond, a French word for the bottom of a pan. If there is a lot of fat, you may want to pour some of it off. If it looks too sparse, add a bit more oil or butter as you cook the meat.   For two pork chops, for example, a tablespoon  or two left in the pan will do, but a bit more is OK too.  You’ll get a feel for this.  Remove the meat to a plate and keep warm. 

Add your liquid to the fat in the skillet--which might be red or white wine, broth, vinegar, cider or other juice, or some combination of these, maybe with some brandy or bourbon or rum thrown in--and scrape up those good brown bits as you heat it up.  (careful when you add alcohol, it can flame up).  Boil it on high heat until it thickens a bit. You’re going to need between 1/3 and 1/2 cup of liquid to start with, for our two chop example.   Watch carefully and stir it a bit.  This only takes  a minute or two and It can boil away quickly.  Add more liquid if needed. When reduced to a sauce consistency, season to taste, pour it over the meat, and you’re done.  NOTE:  to make a lot of sauce, you can add more liquie and reduce it longer or more slowly, but to keep it quick and lowfat, I plan for just enough to nap each serving with a couple of tablespoons.

Instead of an acidic liquid or broth, you can add heavy cream or creme fraiche.  You can boil either. (Stir in sour cream if you like, but don’t boil it).

Here are some combinations I like:

For steaks:  remove steaks from pan and quickly sauté some finely chopped shallots in the fat.  De-glaze with red wine, reduce, and add lots of fresh group pepper. 

For pork chops:  de-glaze pan with a bit of brandy and reduce. Stir in heavy cream and reduce as needed.  Turn off heat, stir in some grainy mustard to taste. Thin it with a bit more brandy if needed.  Spoon over chops, top with snipped chives (see photo).

For pork chops:  de-glaze pan with white wine or chicken broth, a splash of orange juice, and a generous pour of Gran Marnier, then reduce. 

For chicken: make a reduction from broth and balsamic vinegar, or use cider and add sauteed apples to your sauce at the last minute.

An Entertaining tip I love:  Want to throw a pork tenderloin on the grill for guests, but still have a tasty sauce, prepared ahead?  Fry up some pork chops, on the bone with fat on them.  Freeze the cooked chops (dinner for another day, done), make the sauce from the fat as above, then set it aside and re-heat to serve with your grilled meat.   

Roasting tip:  de-glaze a roasting pan by placing it on the stove over two burners. 

More sauce ideas, Dear Readers?  We'd love to hear them!

Favorite Reads:  We wrapped up our Charleston visit this week, and I had to tear myself away because spring was arriving as we were leaving. There is nothing  so beautiful as a Charleston printemps. Instead I'll be dreaming over a couple of books on Charleston gardens.  For some history plus photos, the classic is Gardens of Historic Charleston.  For an insider look at some of the residential gardens, try Secret Gardens of Charleston or Private Gardens of Charleston. Just click on the links.

 

Unless otherwise attributed, all POSTS, PHOTOS and RECIPES on this blog copyright ©2010 Lynn McBride.  All Rights Reserved.