The Rogue Estate

text encapsulated epicurean elitism

I remember the moment clearly – it was a Sunday morning, unremarkable on the surface. I sat in my study, watching past episodes of “After Hours With Daniel” (Boulard) while sipping coffee. A few minutes into a New Orleans episode I heard the words “Pickled grapes” and time stopped.

“Pickled WHAT?” I grabbed the mouse and dragged the video back a minute to watch again. Pickled grapes. My mind reeled. I’d never even conceived a thought of such a thing. How would it work? What would it taste like? I watched the remainder of the episode hoping for a clue. Afterhours is pretty light on technique, so the mystery remained. I began searching and found few mentions, but one site looked reputable and offered a basic recipe.

A shopping list made, and off to the produce market. I was in luck, they had 5 varieties of grapes, including black grapes which I’d never tasted before. Back to the kitchen and ready to work, I decided on straying from the path of the base recipe immediately, as it looked a bit tame for my tastes. After a few hours, I had five jars filled with five variations. Below are the recipes for my two favorites.

For both recpies, mix ingredients and bring just to a boil in a saucepan, then remove from heat. allow the pickling solution to cool before adding it to the jars. This will prevent your grapes from wrinkling and losing their crunch. Use a pairing knife to slice the caps off the grapes for a clean appearance and add as many as possible to a mason jar without crushing. any grapes will do – however I found that the seedless reds held their crunch best and presented the most appealing color. Pour the cooled pickling solution to fill the jar, cap tightly and refrigerate for no less than 24 hours, preferably longer. I found my test subjects were best after 72 hours. Each recipe will fill 1 mason jar loaded with average sized grapes.

Pickled Grapes – Rogue Estate Method #1

This batch was light, sweet with a hint of the mustard’s tartness.

• 40-60 grapes, washed, plucked and capped
• 1 c White Wine Vinegar
• 3/4 c Water
• 1 c Sugar
• 1 Cinnamon Stick
• 1 tsp Black Pepper
• 1 tsp Brown Mustard Seeds
• 1 tsp Allspice Powder
• 1 Arbol Pepper (dried)
• 6 Juniper Berries

Pickled Grapes – Rogue Estate Method #3

These are slightly sweeter than #1, with a subtle warmth in their finish thanks to the Aleppo.

• 40-60 Grapes, washed, plucked and capped.
• 1/2 c White Wine Vinegar
• 1/2 c Red Wine Vinegar
• 1 c water
• 1 c Sugar
• 1/2 tsp Salt
• 1 tsp Aleppo Pepper
• 10 Juniper Berries
• 10 Allspice Pods

As with any of the recipes published on the Rogue Estate, we welcome your variations and pairings in the comments.

Enjoy,

-///

Upon reviewing my previous posts I noticed a mention that I’d elaborate on the different uses of fresh vs. dry herbs and thought there’s no better time than the present to do so!

Let me start by saying just because they’re dried doesn’t mean they last forever. That jar of tarragon sitting in the back of the cupboard that you got from mom 10 years ago should be thrown out…. In restaurants we go through these jars pretty quick, but at home they tend to sit around for a while. Any dried herb that’s been sitting on your spice rack for six months or more is pretty much garbage. Spices last a bit longer, but more than a year old, pitch it.

The best approach to these very different forms is primarily in the timing, when to use them in a recipe to get the best results. Using both dry and fresh herbs of the same variety in the same recipe can create multiple layers of flavor from the same plant. For instance, a pizza sauce with oregano, or a marinara with basil will be greatly enhanced by using both forms. For my examples I’ll be citing mostly sauce making processes, as this is the best application for dried herbs. Dried herbs are generally best used in the begining of the cooking process, while fresh is usually the last thing added to a sauce.

Some herbs lend themselves to being dried better than others. Tarragon, basil, and oregano are the best of the dried herb family. They all get a woody character from the drying process. Please do me a personal favor and NEVER buy dried parsley! There’s no flavor left in parsley after it’s been dried unless you dry it yourself and use it immediately, in which case what was the point in drying it to begin with? Just use fresh! Seriously! Don’t make me hunt you down!

As I said, dried herbs are best used at the begining of the preparation. Keep in mind that the flavor is much more intense than fresh and it’s easy to overdo it, which will also leave whatever you’re cooking with a gritty mouth feel. With most herbs the ratio to keep in mind is 3 or 4 to 1. Meaning 3 or 4 times more fresh than dry should be used to get the same intensity. The flavor left in dried herbs is primarily in the oils in the leaves so toasting them breifly in the oil or fat used in the first steps of flavor layering is the way to go. When I make marinara, the first thing I do is saute my onions low and slow WITH a bit of dried basil and half as much dried oregano and also a pinch of crushed red pepper. When you go to add the dry herbs pinch them tightly between your fingers while you’re sprinkling them into whatever it is you’re cooking. This grinding motion will help release those oils.

Fresh herbs are used in a completely different way, and it’s much more difficult to over use fresh (think of tabouley, almost entirely chopped parsley). When I was training on the pasta station at my first fine dining restaurant the sous chef told me, “don’t be affraid to use a lot” when refering to adding the herbs to the pasta right before plating the dish. I was more concerned at the time with the fact that prepping the fresh herbs was the biggest time sink when setting up my mise en place, so conservation was more what I was thinking! The less I use, the more time I have to set up the rest of my station because I don’t have to prep as much! Now, years later, I understand that it is time well spent.

For sauces the fresh herbs are always the last thing that goes in. The more you cook a fresh herb the duller it’s flavor gets, so a thirty second steep is generally the best approach to release the flavor and aroma and preserve that bright freshness. For marinades fresh is the ONLY thing I’ll use. If you coat a piece of meat with a marinade utilizing dried herbs the finished dish usually ends up with a mouth feel akin to chewing on lawnmower clippings. But if that’s your thing….

Some fresh herbs need to be treated with care so not to bruise them during preparation. Parsley you can chop until it’s almost powder, but basil needs a lighter touch, like a chiffonade, gentle rough chop, or just tearing it apart with your fingers. Because fresh basil is so supple it will bruise and brown and be generally unappealing if treated too roughly, and be sure to use the sharpest knife in the kitchen when (and if) you cut it to make sure you don’t just crush it. The general rule of thumb is ANY greens or herbs with soft leaves should be treated gently or it will bruise and turn brown. This rule applies to the softer lettuces and spinach as well as fresh basil.

Storing fresh herbs is something I should also cover. Basically the leaves are still alive, still “breathing” and metabolizing so putting them in a ziplock bag is the worst thing you can do! Get a very damp (almost dripping, but not quite) paper towel and wrap small bundles of the herbs with it. Store these in a container with a tight fitting, but not air tight lid and keep them in the humid part of the ‘fridge. You’ll be surprised how long some fresh herbs will last this way. At work we had a batch of fresh shiso leaves last a month one time!

If you have any questions or there is something you’d like me to elaborate on, just ask in the comments. Until next time, live well and eat better!

Jack

http://www.epicurious.com/articlesguides/seasonalcooking/farmtotable/visualguidefreshherbs?mbid=epilf

http://ger-nis.com/recipes/fresh_herb_guide

As a wine lover in the U.S., one of the things I find most frustrating is the air of mystery and elitism that drives most people to stick to well-known beer and cocktails.  In fact, I not-so-secretly dislike the term “wine snob” because it reinforces that stereotype.

Part of this air is the complexity of offerings, and inconsistency in labeling.  Part of it is the “ritual” of ordering wine in a restaurant. You’ve probably been there at one time.  Once you get past the seemingly monumental decision of choosing a wine for the table, next are all the other little decisions–What do I do with the cork?  Why is the waiter only pouring a little for me?  Can I send it back if I don’t like it?  Do I have to swirl my glass?  Why? What are people looking for when they take a big sniff first?  How do I know if the wine is supposed to taste like this?  All of it can be just too stressful for the less-than-curious drinker.  (Incidentally there are tons of useful beginner’s guides out there, including this unfortunately named one: http://www.2basnob.com/ordering-wine.html)

This leads me to my point–that final bastion of pretension, the epitome of elitist wine practices, the foo-fooiest of the shi-shi things to do…DECANTING!

Nodding in agreement? I did too, years ago. Take a deep breath and let me see if I can change your mind.

There are two very simple and logical reasons to decant some wines.

• To eliminate sediment from an unfiltered, or especially mature bottle
• To allow the wine to make contact with air, which can improve the taste of some wines by “softening” them, or letting them “open up”.

Eliminating sediment
If you have an unfiltered wine (often an uncommon red wine, and it usually says “unfiltered” on the label) decanting is one way to make sure you don’t get sediment in your glass. Sediment is usually composed of grape skins or solids, and sometimes clear crystals, called tartrates. All of these are harmless, but bothersome if the wine was stored and handled properly. Many decanters have been designed to allow a drinker to pour the bottle into the decanter, then slowly pour from the decanter into a glass, using its thin, beautiful, expensive crystal neck to trap the sediment. At home, I’ve sometimes used a tea strainer or fine mesh strainer to accomplish the same thing, with less dish washing to do.

Contact with air
I have to say upfront that a few experts disagree about this. There are some who say contact with air actually starts to degrade the wine giving you flavors that the winemaker never intended. But many more agree that a bottle that’s been decanted and given a little time to open can transform the flavors in a good way. I won’t get into the science of it because I don’t really care about the science of it. I just know that it works. I find that many European wines, especially Italian and Spanish reds benefit from an open-air rest. And the container doesn’t really matter.

A fast vertical drop to maximize air contact.

At our Rogue’s Estate Pizza Party, I hauled along a pretty familiar quality Chianti, and grabbed the nearest vessel when I walked in. Bob’s beautiful orange plastic pitcher was perfect. After an hour the wine had given up most of the unwelcome astringency and tannin’s allowing the Sangiovese’s cherry flavors to present more obviously, and to let some of the more subtle cedar notes out. Bob’s sweet marinara and the smokey Vidalia onions really brought the wine to life, and vice versa.

Are you someone who likes Cali and Aussie reds, but find most French, Italian, and Spanish reds too harsh? As an experiment, you owe it to yourself to dump ‘em in a pitcher, and let them think for an hour about what they’ve done to you in the past.

Tasting notes:

2006 Ruffino Riserva Ducale Chianti Classico

A tart Italian grandmother (not your own) right out of the bottle, she gets so much more lovely with exposure to air. Classic cherry and red berry flavors, with a nice cedar backbone and little pepper at the back of the tongue. About $20.

Other experiments for the Rogue Estate Pizza Party that weren’t quite what I hoped they would be:

Grüner Veltliner Hugo 2008

Originally picked to pair with the artichoke and garlic pie, this classic citrus Summer sipper just felt out of place with all the smoke, dough, and a cloudy sky.  Granny Smith Apples, lime, and celery leaf.  About $12.

Round Barn Black Currant Dessert Wine (Michigan)

Chosen to pair with a peach and rhubarb roasted dessert pie, this was intended to be a study in complementary tangy, sweet flavors, but Jack’s coffee stout won out with contrasting flavors. Redgardless, I love this little Starburst of a dessert wine, mostly because I adore black currants.  About $24.

Good things come to those who breathe.

- Ian

The subject heading on the email was cryptic and hinted of espionage. 

I think it said something like “We must talk of a certain matter which is of interest to you” and it was from my former co-worker and longtime foodie friend, Ian.  I expected instructions to follow involving a discreet location and knocking out the shave-and-a-haircut code in a darkened doorway.  But no such luck. 

Instead, it was an invitation to join forces with those who were as passionate about finding the perfect morel mushroom as I was.  Menus would be discussed, a theme finalized and I would participate with a dessert and another entrée if I had time. Who was I to pass up such an opportunity?  Besides, I’d heard there was going to be longanisa, so I had to come.

For those of you who don’t know what that is, it’s the Filipino equivalent to a Smoky Link, but tastier.   I had introduced my friend Ian to it many years ago at a barbecue, and it became his personal mission to come up with other uses for the beloved Filipino sausage.  I was intrigued to see what he was going to do with it this time.

I was also intrigued by what the evening was going to bring.  The menu looked extraordinary enough, and I was hoping to be able to pull my weight amongst the individuals that had been described to me.  I mean, I cook, and I do it well, but making food for people I hadn’t met whose palates I wasn’t familiar with seemed a bit scary.  But like all new adventures, I went for it.  Because sometimes, you just have to consider the possibilities and say damn the torpedoes.

The evening produced a variety of “firsts”.  All of us ate or drank something we’d never had before, and after feasting we concluded that the evening was a huge success.  Now, had I decided that I wanted to live a safe and uneventful life and decline Ian’s invitation to join the Rogue Estate for an evening of food, camaraderie and boozing, then I would have missed several opportunities.  I wouldn’t have tasted two beers that I enjoyed immensely (and that I can still taste if I think on it hard enough), or goyoza with pea sprouts and crab, or softshell crab cooked over pecan wood.  Oh, and let’s not forget the longanisa, skewered with shrimp and green onion and barbecued to perfection.  Meat candy, I believe my husband called it.

So, here’s to more “firsts”.  And I hope you, the reader, will be inspired to experience some as well.  Taking a chance can prove quite delicious.

In this post I simply want to share a recipe I came up with at work using random things I had on hand to feed myself and a couple co-workers one slow Sunday evening. My French cooking back ground came through in some of the procedure of this Udon noodle soup, but the result still very much follows the Japanese tradition of noodles in broth.

For the “guts”:

1/2 pound of shrimp, peeled, shells reserved and roughly chopped into bite-size pieces

3/4 pound of Red Snapper fillet cut into 3/4 inch cubes

14 oz. dry Udon

2 oz. Celery heart sliced thin on a bias

2 oz. Leek white, sliced thin

3 oz. baby heirloom Carrots of mixed color or standard baby Carrots, sliced thin on a bias

2 oz. Scallion, sliced thin

2 oz. (3 spears) Asparagus, sliced thin on a bias

1/2 cup Sake or Dry White Vermouth

For the broth:

2 quarts water

2 oz. or 56 grams shaved Katsuo (bonito) or 2 tablespoons instant Dashi

a 4inch length of Konbu, wiped clean

1 cup light Mirin

1/2 cup Soy Sauce

Juice of 1 Lemon

Juice of 1 Lime

6 thin slices of fresh Ginger

1 teaspoon minced Garlic

reserved Shrimp shells

To start:

Add the water to a large pot with the Konbu and bring to a simmer. In another large pot bring 3 quarts of salted water (it should taste like sea water) to a boil. Once the Konbu has come to a simmer, add the rest of the broth ingredients and bring back to a simmer. Allow this to steep on low heat for 20-30 minutes and strain, return the liquid to the pot and discard the solids (or make a “second Dashi” by steeping the solids again with the addition of another 1/2 oz. of Katsuobushi, and chill or freeze for use within a month).

Coat the bottom of a large saute pan with a small amount of soy or canola oil and place over medium heat. Once heated, add the Leeks, Celery and Carrots and lightly salt, cook over medium heat until the carrots are soft but not thoroughly cooked. Deglaze with the Sake and reduce until the pan is almost dry. At this point add half the Dashi stock to the pan and bring back to a simmer.

While that comes back up to a simmer, your other pot of salted water should be boiling. Add the Udon to the water and cook until the Udon is just past el dente. Strain and rinse the noodles under hot water if serving right away, or under cold water to reserve for later use and lightly oil the noodles for storage. All the while keeping an eye on the broth to make sure it doesn’t come to a full boil.

To finish:

Divide the noodles among 4-5 bowls. Add the Shrimp, Red Snapper, and Asparagus to the simmering broth and bring back to a simmer, then kill the heat. Allow this to steep for 3-4 minutes to cook the meats, they won’t take long and if cooked on high heat the Shrimp will get rubbery and the fish will fall apart. Divide this evenly into the bowls containing the noodles, top off with a little more of the left over Dashi stock if the noodles aren’t almost fully submerged. Sprinkle a generous amount of sliced scallions over the top of each bowl and serve with chopsticks. Place a small bowl of Chili/Garlic paste in the center of the table with a small spoon for guests to use at their discretion. I used Shiso leaves to garnish for the picture, but that’s optional, or Lime leaves would be a good substitute.

If the three soup recipes I’ve posted weren’t a clue, I am a huge fan of soups, especially Asian soups, and this one came out great. The key is in not overcooking anything so their natural flavors shine through bright and clear.

I have a few other great soups in my repertoire, so expect to see those eventually. Until next time, live well and eat better!

Jack