Winter Dinner Party, 12/7/08

Consomme of celery branch, toasted barley water, and black truffle was the first dish that I got onto the per se menu. We ran it as a veg set off the canape station. I decided that I wanted to recreate the dish at home for a dinner party. It's pretty involved and, in retrospect, it's not a dish to prepare at home -- too complicated and time-consuming. The flavor combination of celery-truffle-barley just popped into my head. It may sound odd, but, trust me, it is delicious. The technique for clarification is called gelatin filtration. Take any strained liquid and add a small amount of gelatin. Freeze the liquid plus gelatin and allow the ice block to thaw over several layers of cheese cloth, in a refigerator. The gelatin forms long strands that attract the fat molecules that make the liquid opaque. Water freezes around these strands. When the block is thawed, the water drips through the flavor particles trapped in the strands of gelatin. The resulting water is flavored and clear. This equals consomme.










In a dry casserole, I toasted the faro (a substitute for barley). This brought out the deeper nutty flavor that I was looking for.










I added water to the toasted faro and simmered until the liquid reduced by two-thirds.









Juicing celery with the machine that Martin and Tracy gave us when they moved to London. Thanks, mates! By the way, juicing the celery makes an incredibly loud, abrasive sound -- high pitched ferocity, like a band saw, ripping through a fat shin bone.



















3.5 parts celery juice to 1 part toasted faro water to 0.5 parts black truffle juice. If I had unlimited resources, I'd up the proportion of black truffle juice to 1 part, but, yo, each can is $85.









Mix all the liquids together, plus the melted gelatin.










Pop the whole sucker in the freezer and make a celery/black truffle juice/toasted faro water ice block.










LeBernardin style shrimp stock. Saute whole shrimp. Sweat shallots (I skipped them) and add lots of tomato paste. Add fumet or water to cover. Simmer. Buzz everything and pass several times. It's pretty decadent to use whole shrimp just for stock, but, hell, the flavor is just great.










I pureed cleaned shrimp with salt, flamed-out madiera, and cream. Then I passed the puree through a tamis. This is a huge pain in the ass (imagine the cleaning involved).










I piped the mousse onto the sole fillets. The top one is wonky because I was trying to pipe with one hand and take a photo with the other. Couldn't quite multitask well enough. The other two look quite sweet, though.









A completed sole bullet. That looks dope. They were wrapped in two layers of plastic. This is a fussy thing to do. Poach at 140 degrees F.









The ice block. I set up three layers of cheescloth over a perforated 4-inch half-hotel pan, set up over a 6-inch half hotel pan. I plunked the block onto the cheesecloth and, nervously, waited.









Supreming grapefruit for a tart. Winter is peak citrus season.
















One to one grapefruit juice and sugar, equals poaching liquid.









I poured the boiling grapefruit syrup over the supremes.









Jane presses the shortbread dough into the tart mold.









Getting that dough up in there.









Chopping cashews.









Roasting delicata squash. I should have covered them with aluminum foil so that they steam-roasted. Instead, I dry-roasted them uncovered. The result, was just that, dry. What to do? I had to get some moisture back into the squash and, improvised a chinese "red cook" broth: water, star anise, ginger, soy, sugar. Then I simmered the unintentionally dehydrated delicata planks in the broth until it nearly evaporated and turned into a glaze. Topped with toasted cashew crumble, the red-cook-glazed delicata squash turned out to be pretty darn tasty.









Jane meticulously picks celery leaves.




















Mise en place.





















The block melted very slowly. I doubted that I would have enough consomme by dinner. Merde.









I made a sabayon. In a medium metal bowl, I whisked together 2 eggs and 2 yolks, plus 1/4 of a cup of sugar. I put the bowl over a medium pot filled with 1 inch of simmering water. Then, I whisked until the eggs became foamy. Then incrementally I added 1 cup lemon juice + grapefruit poaching liquid, while continuing to whisk vigorously. I turned off the heat when sabayon tightened up to the point where I could see the bottom of the bowl with each pass. Then I whiksed in 6 tablespoons of cold butter, one tablespoon at a time. In total it was close to 20 minutes of whisking. Over the years, I developed quite a set of whisking muscles, making O+P every day for five months.








Pouring the sabayon into the cooked tart shell.









Jane shingled the poached grapefruit segments on to the set sabayon.









She lines it all up very beautifully.









Sauteed Maine Diver Scallop in Saor. Saor is a Venetian, sweet and sour marinade. It was used to preserve vegetables and fish for long ocean voyages. My version of saor contained red wine vinegar, water, sugar, diced red onion, capers, and currants.









Workin'.





















Consomme garnish. Celery branch baton, dice of celery root, faro, and poached quail egg. I forgot Jane's beautiful celery leaves. Someone shoot me. Damn.









Soup was poured table side. Look at the consomme -- it's amber-clear! I love the way this soup tastes.









Tempuraing hen of the woods mushrooms. I was pissed because the tempura batter got soggy right away. What's up Nobu? I used his recipe because I didn't have my recipe mole skine on hand. Big mistake.








Poached sole with shrimp mousseline, tempura hen of the woods mushroom, sunchoke puree, and shellfish emulsion.








"Red cooked" delicata squash, cashew nuts and a salad of arugula, treviso radicchio, and frisee.








The whole tart, ready to be sliced up.









Dessert. The custard was runny. Either the sabayon was not cooked enough or the moisture from the grapefruit segments seeped into the custard, loosening it. Also, next time around, I want more tartness. This one was too sweet for my taste. Pretty photo, though.









The crew: Heather White, Nelson Loskamp, Jen and Jimmy Vellano, Jane.









Jim was cracking us up with his stories. He always does.









Aftermath, still life.









What we drank. This was the most ambitious, techinically difficult home-cooked meal I've ever done. Because the food was high-concept, my expectation were also very high. I made some mistakes and it bugs the heck out of me. That said, the guests were thrilled and, in the end, that's all that matters.