I’m still working on my review of Incanto (short version: It was awesome.) but in the meantime here are the pictures I took at Alinea. Some of them didn’t turn out as well as I’d have hoped, so I do apologize. I have to say though, it was the best meal of my life.
Carol is in for one amazing, strange (in a good way), and delicious ride.
Goat curd is available, but if you can’t find it, a log of young goat cheese, before it has formed a rind, will suffice.
My friend Laura recently posted about a meal I had invited her, her husband and a few other people over to. All of the dishes made were from “The Cookbook”, so I’d have lots of things to write about (when I finally got the time). The really cool part is that she drew the meal!
I’m going to try and get a copy so I can hang it in my kitchen. The one recipe that she talked about and didn’t draw was this one, the dessert.
I hit up the farmer’s market, hoping that I’d find someone with goat curd for sale. Sadly, it seems like all of the goat-related vendors had decided to stay home. Since Mr. Henderson had declared that fresh goat cheese was okay, I went with that route. Maybe I’ll find some goat curd in the spring.
Next up was the Marc. Marc de Bourgogne to be precise. Finding it turned out to be easier than I had feared, thanks to my wife working at Grapevine Market in Austin. When we went to pick up a bottle, we were warned by a few of the “wine guys” at the store that it was very “rustic”. And strong. Mr. Henderson had mentioned in the recipe that if necessary, it was okay to hold back on the Marc content “if you find it too heady.” You would think that I’d be paying attention to all of these warning signs and blinking lights, right?
In a bowl I combined a bit of caster sugar with the Marc, and then stirred them together to melt the sugar. Bit by bit, the goat cheese was added until everything was completely mixed.
I plated the Marc/cheese concoction along with a few sugar cookies and some fresh fruit. The first bite was… interesting. I mean, I could smell the Marc from across the kitchen. So actually eating it combined with the creamy yet mild goat cheese was an intense experience. Maybe I should have heeded all of those warnings. You really needed the fruit or the cookies to diffuse the sheer power of it. The Marc itself could best be described like so: Imagine that you’re out on a long drive, and you decide to rest for the night. The only place you can find is a family run bed and breakfast that’s slightly run down. The water isn’t terribly hot, and the bed squeaks when you roll over, but the family is so warm and inviting that you end up leaving with a big smile on your face. It does have a rustic flavor to it, and it is very strong. That’s what makes it so wonderful.
I do want to post more this week, but please pardon me if I don’t. I’m currently on vacation in Chicago for my birthday, which will end with a dinner at Alinea. I can’t wait!
One down, eighty nine to go.
I feel terrible about not updating, especially since I have so many dishes already done and in the queue. But, I’ve been away due to work travel. I have an excuse!
I did manage to dine at a very special place, maybe you’ve heard of it?
Short review: Incanto is amazing! Long review to come…
This recipe is closely inspired by a recipe of Paula Wolfert who, in turn, points out she has been inspired by Lucien Vanel; so thank you Lucien Vanel, and indeed Paula Wolfert.
As well as being delicious and textural to eat, this terrine, when sliced, beautifully exposes a cross section of brain, caught in a meaty square. Although this may not sound it at all, it s a thing of beauty.
A happy new year to you and yours! To kick it off I decided that I’d try something new for my first post of 2009. Sadly, while making a terrine is new experience for me, this is the last lamb’s brains recipe in the book. I’ve actually grown fond of brains’ light, custardy texture. They truly are a unique ingredient and I can see myself using them again in the future.
I need to again thank the very kind folks at Zituna World Food Market for saving eight lovely brains for me and my very good friend Sharon Peters for putting up with me. These brains were lightly poached …
… and laid out to dry after being shocked in ice water to keep them from cooking too much.
The duck livers needed for this recipe were actually the hardest ingredient to find to make this terrine. Thankfully, my trusty Asian market has just recently been putting more ducky parts out for people to buy and livers are plentiful now. I suppose I really should consider duck hunting at some point this year. I still need duck necks…
Anyhow, the duck livers were whizzed in my food processor along with some garlic, shallots, ground veal, ground pork and some fatback. Mr. Henderson urges extreme caution at this point, as he relays in the recipe that texture in a terrine is a very grand thing. Not wanting to make a mistake–that will come later–I made sure to pulse the food processor just enough.
The meaty mixture was transferred to a bowl and, along with a splash of brandy, various spices were added. Mr. Henderson asks for allspice, cinnamon, clove and nutmeg, calling them quatre épices–though every result for quatre épices on Google says that pepper is usually considered one of the four spices–and that they are vital for making various terrine and sausage recipes. The spices are used to “wake up” the ground meat’s flavor.
A little while ago, one of my wife’s co-workers ended up getting a very nasty bit of software on their home computer. Thinking that it would be a trivial thing to set the computer right, I volunteered to go and fix it. It ended up taking two evenings to banish the ugly little bugger from their PC, but I succeeded in the end. My rewards were a bottle of vodka from Russia, a very nice Cuban cigar, a wonderful dinner and the lovely little terrine pan you see above. Thank you very much, John Michael and Karen!
I lined the terrine pan with tin foil and then lined it again with strips of streaky bacon. Carefully I filled the bottom with the meat mixture, and then placed a few brains down the very middle of pan. As you’ll see in the final picture, I should have added more brains, but I was afraid that I’d end up with a layer of brain rather than the cross section Mr. Henderson described in the foreword. On top of the brains more meat mixture was piled in and streaky bacon was laid on top to finish the terrine construction.
To cook the terrine, I needed to set it into a water bath. I had originally wrapped the terrine with plastic wrap, but it just wasn’t water-proof. I ended up vacuum sealing the whole thing just to make sure. After two hours in the water bath, the terrine was transferred to refrigerator with a weight on top to set everything into shape.
I’d like to think for my first effort, this turned out pretty nicely. You can see that there is a bit of brain there in the middle, though I really do wish I had put more in while I was making it. You can see bits of fatback here and there also, so the texture must have been pretty close to correct. The real kicker–and the mistake I eluded to earlier–is that the meat needed salt. It needed it badly. In the ingredient list, Mr. Henderson warned caution on salt usage. If the bacon and fatback had been salted–which they had–the instructions say not to add any more. For whatever reason, it just wasn’t enough. After my first bite ended up bland, I sprinkled a small amount of sea salt on a slice and tried it again. The taste was greatly improved, and I could make out the other spices finally. Texturally, the lamb brains were perfectly light and wonderful–as they have been for every recipe, thankfully–and the meat mixture was rough and crumbly. The two really complimented each other, with the brains almost playing the part of a sauce, as they melted and coated the mouth.
This is a very fine terrine recipe. I swear, I’ll be making it again. I really will. With more salt next time. It’ll be totally worth the effort.
One down, ninety to go.