Left Over Salmon??? More Like Salmon Rillettes

this is a belated post, Blogger was ignoring my Publish request... better late than... xo

Coachella is upon us and has grown from its one festive weekend of 20 party bands at the immaculate Empire Polo Field, with beach chairs, Birks and punks, to a double weekend fashion encore promo pool party, with car and drivers to and from The Parker. I wish I were kidding... Actually, I wish I were there. But why not be here, in perfect beach town Venice, making left over salmon into salmon rillettes? I've already missed The Stone Roses anyway...

You know, there is a band called Left Over Salmon that I know very little about. But what I do know is that they often tour with the band Phish. How smart is that?

Blur... Anyhow...

It seems that rillettes are not well known in Los Angeles, and I often find myself describing them to friends and customers. They are a dinosaur, jr., of a French classic. Rillettes, not a bad name for a band: The Rillettes, are originally made of pork belly or pork shoulder, and are cubed, salted and left to sweat in their own phat, much like Jurassic 5's beats, why am I here???, for several hours in a slow oven, then shredded into a rich salted fatted paste, much like a pate'. They are famously stored in crocks and jars and little pots, and include other incarnations: duck, goose, game birds, rabbit, tuna and salmon. All of which can rest in their own fat, or added fat, for weeks. They taste even better with time.

I adore salmon rillettes, I adore live music with drinks on a lawn..., and couldn't wait to put them on the menu as soon as the proprietor suggested it. And with loads of salmon already in-house, it seemed only honorable to pull out the classic method and pot some Copper River Salmon. It's almost as good as the Wu Tang Clan live... Yeah, Yeah, Yeah...

Rock on.

Salmon Rillettes

1 # fresh wild salmon

2 tbs of creme fraiche

1 large shallot, finely diced

1 lemon and her zest

olive oil

butter

thyme 

bay leaf
salt 
white pepper

~

Turn oven on to 275 agrees... 

here she is...

lay your salmon in the right sized pan and drizzle generously with olive oil: enough to cover the bottom of the pan...

dress with the finely diced shallot, lemon zest and slices of unsalted butter...

lace with fresh thyme and bay leaf... 

tent with parchment and and seal with a lid... the goal is to cook the salmon slowly, in all of the fats...

put a lid on it...

and place in a heat 275 degree oven for 40 minutes...

my best friend Kim says, there is a pot for every lid... i like to believe her...

it may look over-cooked but it is not... be sure to wipe away the white protein that has coagulated on top... what a nice food science term that is... 

pull the fillets apart and remove any bones, herbs... 

shred the salmon with the tines of a fork, or your fingers...

then drizzle in a little of the warm fat from the baking dish and add the creme fraiche and a squeeze or two of lemon... and whip together with the tines of the fork...

and don't forget the Salt and Pepper, here... "and push it"...

carefully spoon the salmon into little jars... or a terrine... 

and spoon a little melted salted butter in a thin layer over the top... so good...

and smear heavily, gratuitously, on warm toast... "and push it real good..."-- Salt and Pepper

I'm All Choked Up ~ Artichokes Braised with Lemon and Garlic

People are weird about artichokes. They either love them or hate them. No in-between state. I believe it has something to do with their hard spiky exterior and large floral shape: difficult and strange to cook and eat.

And it seems that Gen X, Gen Y, Gen Whatever, often don't know what the hell to make of them; unlike the Greatest Generation who were comfortable with just about any struggle. For them, handling an artichoke was nothing, in the face of the Great D, war, food rations and at home births. I've seen my grandparents, and parents, fearlessly stuff them into pots of boiling water, paying no mind to their giant thorns, only to suck off every bit of meat those leaves hardly had to offer. And it made sense to us, because who could resist something drenched in drawn butter? For my brothers and I, it was just a vehicle for melted salty butter...

But as weak as we may be, by comparison, there are still many brave-ish souls trolling the farmers market, ready to take them on.  And 'take them on' is the only attitude. You must take them on with the mindfulness of a skilled cook. You will need a solid and secure cutting board, not one of those flimsy chopping mats that resemble wax paper; and a long serrated knife for confident sawing.

Now that I've terrified you, and maybe even frightened myself, remembering all of the puncture wounds I've endured, I would love to share the most beautiful, simple, yes, I like that word and mean it, recipe. It's a simple water bath of halved lemons, garlic cloves, thyme and bay leaf, and copious amounts of sea salt and black peppercorns. The artichokes are submerged whole and weighted down by a plate and tea towel; or cut in half, then rubbed with lemon juice and simmered stovetop. For the really fearful, I suggest starting with the smaller artichokes. They are less hard and less spiky, making it much easier for your knife to carefully saw off the tips of the chokes.

Personally, I love them more than I fear them. I love them with butter. I love them with garlic aioli. I love them with herbed bread crumbs and pecorino... But mostly I just love them braised: as noted above and below. Take a look, and watch your damn fingers.

Artichokes Braised in Lemon and Garlic

pot of water

1-2 # of small or large artichokes

a halved head of garlic, or 12 cloves

a small bunch of thyme

a few bay leaves

three lemons, halved

a flat heavy palmful of sea salt

a tight palmful of black peppercorns 

spring means artichokes... purple and green... large and small... buy them all... haha...

give them a healthy rinse...

squeeze the juice of one lemon into a bowl of water and set aside...

carefully saw off the tips, creating a flat top, and rub with half a lemon to stop them from turning brown... watch your fingers...

remove the hard spiky inedible leaves...

and trim the stem a little, always rubbing with lemon wherever you cut... 

and submerge in the bowl of lemon water...

prepare a pot of water on the stove with two halved lemons, squeezed of their juice, and the garlic, herbs and salt and peppercorns...

add your chokes to the pot... heck, i even add the more tender picked-off leaves...

 to submerge whole chokes, cover the pot with a clean tea towel and weigh with a dinner plate... 

for small chokes, just stir while cooking, as seen here...

braise on  medium to low-burn, for about 20 minutes.... more for larger chokes...

they are ready when a pairing knife pushes through the flesh with ease... 

remove them from the liquid and eat straight away with melted butter, or toss with lemon, olive oil and garlic, or...

just eat as is...

or make an antipasta with Parmigiano Reggiano, the poached garlic cloves from the same pot, and castelveltrano olives... this was for the wine bar, and was a nice snack with a cold light beer...

Faux Gras ~ Chicken Liver Pate

I've been keepin' it French, lately, making a lot of chicken liver pate. Over the last few months, I've been a chef-consultant to a wine bar in Venice Beach, and have been 'turning out' terrines and little glass jars of pate, rillette and mousse, every week. It's my dream come to life: to be paid to whip butter, cream and flavorful meats with their own fats into rich, creamy spreads. To be smeared on warm toast, or baguette, and eaten with pickled onions, mustards, cornichons... tres jolie... I do believe there is a revival of this old classic.

Since foie gras fell from its famed perch, last year, chicken liver has become the penultimate substitute. When the California foie gras law went into effect, prohibiting the farming practice and sale of foie gras in California, chefs scrambled for the next best thing: chicken liver.

The foie law, as I like to call it, was passed in 2004 by the Governator, Arnold, ironically, someone who gets pretty 'pumped up' over a good slab of foie gras... The law granted an eight year period for farmers to develop healthy feeding practices, before it would be enacted. Unfortunately, the farmers have yet to develop the right technique for California's approval, and the law went into effect last July.

Hence the chicken liver revival! You can look at it as a desperate situation, or a 'thank god for classics'. I'm personally thanking the French.

And thankfully, chefs have been putting 'Julia's' classic recipe on menus from Los Angeles to Napa. In fact, my favorite happy hour, FIG, in Santa Monica, offers the most lovely, potted chicken liver parfait with fig jam, this side of France, mastered by Eric @ericsstash, of course.

So, "get to the choppa!", as Arnold would lamely say, and let's get this revival in full swing!

But please, don't share any with Arnold.

Chicken Liver 'Faux Gras' Pate

say that 5 times...

2# organic chicken livers

1# unsalted butter (soft)

a couple of shallots

a cup of chicken stock

a cup of white or red wine

fresh thyme and bay leaf

a splash of spirits: cognac, maidera, sherry, or my crazy concoction of vermouth and blackcurrant...

salt and white pepper to taste (make it taste good!)

Have fun...

plump and rosey, the livers are organic and from (as a friend of mine likes to say) Whole "Paycheck"...

you will need to trim the fat and sinew with a pair of kitchen shears, or with a knife and a cutting board...

this is what you want...

in a large pot, or skillet, add your sliced shallots, thyme and bay leaf...

add your plump livers...

pour in the wine and chicken stock, and poach for 12-15 minutes...

livers are high in iron, vitamins A and B12, and high in folate; promoting healthy eyes, hair and skin... don't listen to the nay sayers... our ancestors got us here... didn't they???

they also promote great wine pairings...

strain the cooking liquid, remove the herbs, and puree the livers and shallots in a food processor until relatively smooth...

and make a collar to secure your mixing bowl...

push though a fine meshed sieve...

i won't lie, it takes a long-ass time...

once finished, mix with the softened butter...

and season away!

this unusual combination happened by default, like most great things in life: you just can't plan it...

grease your beautiful French terrine...

and line with plastic film...

and grease the plastic film... you do not want a stuck pate...

fill your terrine and spread evenly... and chill over night... and turn out onto a long board or plate...

and with a sharp, thin knife... warm the blade in hot water... wipe dry... and in one careful motion... slice the terrine, steady, not to break it's delicate surface...

and serve with pickles, mustard, jam, salad vinaigrette... whatever stirs your fancy...

tres jolie...

Beet It ~ Beets Cooked In Their Own Earthy Sweetness...

All you need is... Well, that song may ring true in theory, but we also need to eat. And before we can eat, we should learn how to cook. I strongly suggest learning to cook vegetables that are in season and for two reasons: firstly, they are darned good, and secondly, it's easy.


BTW, love is not enough. You have to be redemptive, as well. Oh, sorry, that's another blog... 

And I know you'd be a year richer for every cent paid each time your grandmother or some cooking school graduate assured you that home cooking was easy. Well, they were right. What they didn't tell you is that no one wants to do dishes: because cooking can be a serious mess. That simple truth is why people subject themselves to Applebee's E. coli, and Subway's subsidized sandwiches. But I am here to assure you, once again, just how simple and relatively mess free cooking can be. And how rewarding and nutritious it is to learn how to cook for yourself.

Let's start with beets. Beets live an entire existence underground, soaking up nutrients and minerals that will flood your vital organs with life energy. That is the major point of eating: absorbing life energy. But let's be honest, no one really cares about the life energy of food until they've run out of it. People are interested in taste and beauty. So, why not start there? Beets are the Jimmy Choo's of the vegetable universe, they are gorgeous in color and sexy in texture. And, unlike Jimmy Choo's, dirt cheap. A fun trip to your local farmers market and you can have four or five organic bulbs for just two bucks. You'll just need a few things to get started.

1) parchment paper or aluminum foil
2) a baking sheet
3) paper towels
4) some kitchen basics: olive oil, honey, fresh herbs (if you have them) and salt and pepper

And I suppose, an oven. But I am guessing most of you have one.

So, here it is, a step-by-step, Jimmy Choo pun intended, of how to cook delicious, beautiful, simple beets.

Beets Cooked In Their Own Earthy Sweetness

have fun and choose a variety of beets in different colors at your local farmers market...



in a large bowl or basin, flood the beets with water and let soak for five minutes until the dirt has settled to the bottom, then scoop them out and pat them dry...

find your parchment paper, or foil, and a sheet pan...

trim the tops and tails of the beets and place them in the center of the parchment paper, on the sheet pan...

drizzle with olive oil and honey, salt and pepper, and dress with thyme and bay leaf, if you have some...

unless you would like them tie-died... cook each color of beet in its own parchment paper... 

and wrap them like a present, twisting the ends together to seal in the moisture...

bake @ 350 degrees for close to an hour, depending on the size of your beets...

 a pairing knife should slip through the flesh easily, when done...

the sweet beet juices make an incredible dressing for a salad... save it...

careful, opening the pouch... steam burns...

and gently wipe them clean with lots of paper towels... the skins should slip off easily...

it's messy and takes a little time, but...

your fingers will have evidence of your cooking... bragging rights...

slice, dice, quarter, any way you like, and toss with salad greens, or just a simple dressing of beet juices, red wine vinegar, lemon and olive oil...

i love fresh tarragon with mine, and crumbled French feta... and lots of it...

sweet little things... maybe, all we need is... xo.