39 posts tagged “french”
Nevermind the steak, I've gotta showcase these veggies — homegrown and all. Not grown by me, but nonetheless... Not gotten out of a supermarket, which I figure is a good thing. Summer squash and zucchini. And there's also some potato wedges. Had to parboil the taters, mind you, before grilling them.
I generally don't like to have to skidaddle between the kitchen and outdoor to the grill, but this thing turned out pretty nicely. Steak au poivre is a real no-brainer, though. Just sauté the steaks over medium heat, remove to a warm oven to keep warm and deglaze the pan with a generous bit of brandy, whisk in a touch of Dijon mustard and some cream; Bob's yer uncle.
I generally don't like to have to skidaddle between the kitchen and outdoor to the grill, but this thing turned out pretty nicely. Steak au poivre is a real no-brainer, though. Just sauté the steaks over medium heat, remove to a warm oven to keep warm and deglaze the pan with a generous bit of brandy, whisk in a touch of Dijon mustard and some cream; Bob's yer uncle.
Man oh, man, does this look like a piece of turd, or what? It's such a fantastic bit of grub; I mean it's just about the most optimal dinner you could ask for: you got your protein (salmon), your veggies (spinach) and your starch (puff pastry) all there. Yet it looks crummy. It's a damn tragedy.
But it's damn good eats, mind you.
But it's damn good eats, mind you.
I normally do these with shrimp, but this time I tried salmon. As much as I love salmon, I'd say I definitely prefer shrimp, though. The Béchamel-style sauce gets its flavors from butter, onions, scallions, celery, cream, lemon (or in this case, lime) juice and cayenne pepper, so the flavors of salmon (or shrimp) aren't very noticeable -- but shrimp at least has an interesting texture.
Still, I had originally intended to blacken the salmon before adding it to the sauce -- I just ran out of time -- so I might yet have another attempt at this.
Still, I had originally intended to blacken the salmon before adding it to the sauce -- I just ran out of time -- so I might yet have another attempt at this.
Another great recipe from America's Test Kitchen. It's very similar to a quiche, but it's less "eggy" -- and it holds a helluva lot of caramelized onions, which really makes a difference. I'm not sure if the crust is all that different though -- I'd better go check my recipes, I guess. Mind you, the way America's Test Kitchen works, there probably is no difference, and French Tart is merely America's Test Kitchenise for quiche.
Was seriously considering adding some of that salmon that I smoked (well, really just slow cooked), but I'd done eated it all, I did. Oh well.
Those little cherry tomatoes look great, with the green inside 'em. Should have added some sour cream alongside it, with the scallions.
Every now and then, I cook something really good. Every now and then, I cook something that's pretty awful. The more I cook, the more frequently my grub ends up being good. And when that happens, I try to expand my horizons. I try to cook unusual things.
The last three meals I made were great. So I got a little ambitious and went for something unusual. I tried to create a galette -- well, hell, to cut to the chase: a tandoori spiced salmon pizza with pâte brisée in lieu of the pizza dough. It didn't turn out too good, though. The pastry wasn't cooked through -- only the edges had that lovely crispy crust... The tandoori paste was overwhelming. It looked good, but the taste -- not so good.
Considering the rather obvious (in retrospect) fact that short crust pastry is very rich, maybe I should have done something to the tandoori paste, to lighten it. I don't know.
This is a tricky one. But I still think the overall idea is sound, though.
And yeah, the rice is the same as the last dish I made. I guess I can be a bit predictable.
The last three meals I made were great. So I got a little ambitious and went for something unusual. I tried to create a galette -- well, hell, to cut to the chase: a tandoori spiced salmon pizza with pâte brisée in lieu of the pizza dough. It didn't turn out too good, though. The pastry wasn't cooked through -- only the edges had that lovely crispy crust... The tandoori paste was overwhelming. It looked good, but the taste -- not so good.
Considering the rather obvious (in retrospect) fact that short crust pastry is very rich, maybe I should have done something to the tandoori paste, to lighten it. I don't know.
This is a tricky one. But I still think the overall idea is sound, though.
And yeah, the rice is the same as the last dish I made. I guess I can be a bit predictable.
A fillet mignon peppersteak is easily my favorite steak. In fact, I'm pretty sure the first steak I ever tasted, was a peppersteak -- probably not a fillet mignon, though, but I certainly liked it.
Beef tenderloin is pretty damn expensive, and it has the least flavor of any cut -- you're paying purely for the tenderness. So it makes sense to make the most of that wonderful tenderness. I'm normally a medium-rare guy, but in this case, I'm firmly in the rare camp. The flavor comes from the sauce. And I truly love a good sauce...
The way I do this, is to crack one whole tablespoon of black peppercorns per person, press it into the steaks and cook them in a stainless steel skillet (not non-stick) over medium heat, with some peanut oil and butter. I do NOT let the pan heat up fully before I put the steaks in -- that way, they stick to the pan and leave lots of lovely drippings for the sauce. I went four minutes on the first side and about three on the other, for rare steaks. Then I left them on hot plates in the oven, to rest uncovered (if you cover them, the condensation will ruing the crispy outer layer). Then I deglazed the pan with brandy and used a whisk to release the sticky bits in the pan, and added some
Dijon mustard, butter and cream. The final touch to really make the sauce would have been some demiglace, which I didn't have -- so I reduced two cans of beef broth down to about 10% of its original volume (one can would have been more than enough -- and it didn't need to be reduced quite that much), creating a supercharged beef broth with an amazingly strong flavor... The problem I had last time was that I didn't have enough sauce, as I didn't dare add too much cream since it diluted the flavor. Well this time around, that was NOT a problem.
Oh and here's a closeup of the cut uh, halfway through the meal. (I used another camera, with a screwed-up color balance setting, so it looks a tad different). Long live rare meat!
Beef tenderloin is pretty damn expensive, and it has the least flavor of any cut -- you're paying purely for the tenderness. So it makes sense to make the most of that wonderful tenderness. I'm normally a medium-rare guy, but in this case, I'm firmly in the rare camp. The flavor comes from the sauce. And I truly love a good sauce...
The way I do this, is to crack one whole tablespoon of black peppercorns per person, press it into the steaks and cook them in a stainless steel skillet (not non-stick) over medium heat, with some peanut oil and butter. I do NOT let the pan heat up fully before I put the steaks in -- that way, they stick to the pan and leave lots of lovely drippings for the sauce. I went four minutes on the first side and about three on the other, for rare steaks. Then I left them on hot plates in the oven, to rest uncovered (if you cover them, the condensation will ruing the crispy outer layer). Then I deglazed the pan with brandy and used a whisk to release the sticky bits in the pan, and added some
Oh and here's a closeup of the cut uh, halfway through the meal. (I used another camera, with a screwed-up color balance setting, so it looks a tad different). Long live rare meat!
This is my favorite uh, application for a filet mignon: pepper steak.
1. Crush (very coarsely) a lot of peppercorns -- almost a tablespoon per steak, rub into the steaks good and proper.
2. Sauté in groundnut oil over medium heat in a stainless steel pan (do not use nonstick -- you actually want some stickiness in this case) to required doneness. This of course varies depending on the thickness of your steaks, and your stove, but in this case I went about 3-4 min per side for these 1" - 1 1/2" steak, which resulted in some nice rare to rare-medium-rare steaks.
3. Set the steaks aside on a platter, and leave them in a pre-heated oven. Do not cover the steaks, as the evaporation would make the lovely, crispy surface texture soggy.
4. Deglaze the pan with 3-4 tablespoons of brandy, and whisk in two teaspoons of Dijon mustard, and 1/3-1/2 cup of cream. Let it reduce to a slightly thicker consistency (5 minutes or so) and adjust according to taste with salt and coarsely cracked peppercorns.
5. When plating, make sure to add the liquid that seeped from the steaks while they were resting in the oven, to the sauce.
I've done this dish so many times now, and it is so simple that I never look at any recipes anymore. But there's always something new that can go wrong (with an opportunity to learn something new, of course), which was the case here... The first time I made this I used a non-stick pan, which resulted in absolutely no pan drippings -- and the sauce just doesn't work without that stuff (I pathetically ended up scraping the edges of the steaks to get a little bit of it). So I only use stainless steel pans now, but it turns out that I (completely accidentally) never waited long enough for the pan to reach the full medium heat level, before putting the steaks in. In this case, I had to delay the dinner a bit, and ended up heating the pan properly, which of course results in far less stickiness!
This is almost a mantra for cooking instruction: To make sure things won't stick, let your pan or your grill heat up properly, before cooking on it. With steak au Poivre (or obviously, any similarly sautéed dish that needs pan drippings), you want to add your meat before the pan has heated up fully. You want it to be sticky.
The sauce in this case just wasn't quite up to scratch.
1. Crush (very coarsely) a lot of peppercorns -- almost a tablespoon per steak, rub into the steaks good and proper.
2. Sauté in groundnut oil over medium heat in a stainless steel pan (do not use nonstick -- you actually want some stickiness in this case) to required doneness. This of course varies depending on the thickness of your steaks, and your stove, but in this case I went about 3-4 min per side for these 1" - 1 1/2" steak, which resulted in some nice rare to rare-medium-rare steaks.
3. Set the steaks aside on a platter, and leave them in a pre-heated oven. Do not cover the steaks, as the evaporation would make the lovely, crispy surface texture soggy.
4. Deglaze the pan with 3-4 tablespoons of brandy, and whisk in two teaspoons of Dijon mustard, and 1/3-1/2 cup of cream. Let it reduce to a slightly thicker consistency (5 minutes or so) and adjust according to taste with salt and coarsely cracked peppercorns.
5. When plating, make sure to add the liquid that seeped from the steaks while they were resting in the oven, to the sauce.
This is almost a mantra for cooking instruction: To make sure things won't stick, let your pan or your grill heat up properly, before cooking on it. With steak au Poivre (or obviously, any similarly sautéed dish that needs pan drippings), you want to add your meat before the pan has heated up fully. You want it to be sticky.
The sauce in this case just wasn't quite up to scratch.
An oldie, but goodie. I don't know what kinda knuckle-dragging neanderthal came up with the idea that "Real Men Don't Eat Quiche," but someone needs to beat the stupid out of that idiot. Quiche isn't fancy food. It isn't sophisticated. And it isn't pretentious. Yeah, I know there were a lot of pretentious and annoying people eating quiche at one point -- and they didn't know any better, about quiche, than the knuckle-draggers.
Quiche is simple, salt-of-the-earth, easy to make, good grub.
Quiche is simple, salt-of-the-earth, easy to make, good grub.
Purchased pastry shells filled with a vanilla custard, and a blueberry mixture with a little lemon zest. These little suckers are normally served as savory hors d'oeuvres, but they're very nice as a little dessert too.
Next time around, I'll use strawberries, I think. And I'll make my own faux puff pastry too -- I've got the glasses scoped out, that'll cut it into just the right sizes.
Next time around, I'll use strawberries, I think. And I'll make my own faux puff pastry too -- I've got the glasses scoped out, that'll cut it into just the right sizes.
This dish (Gang keo goung) calls for a Laotian all-purpose curry paste called Kore -- or in a pinch, a store-bought Thai curry paste. Since this dinner was a little involved, I decided against making Kore, and instead added some of its ingredients to a Thai curry paste: freshly grated galangal, finely chopped kaffir lime leaves, and some sweet Indian curry powder.
Apparently, Laotian food sometimes makes use of Indian curry powder, which I've never seen in Thai food. This struck me as a bit odd, since Thailand is closer to India than Laos -- but perhaps there are some historical, cultural ties there somewhere...
Laos frequently uses dill in their seafood (it is sometimes referred to as Laotian coriander (leaves -- ie., cilantro)). It's never cooked, but just added as a garnish. This is a great idea -- it is a great addition to a spicy seafood curry. Only problem, in all the excitement, I forgot to chop it up... An excellent dish. Oh, and I put some plain, boiled rice in the bowl -- traditionally, this dish is eaten by dipping sticky lumps of rice into the soup, but that didn't strike me as very practical...
"Kang soh" turned out to be the perfect side dish for this curry. It has a very fresh taste from lime juice and fish sauce, with a smoky counterpoint from toasted sesame seeds (in fairness, I toasted them a little too much, but when I do this again, I'll toast them exactly the same amount again, because it worked just right), along with toasted shallot and garlic, strips from half a de-seeded and de-veined chili, scallions and cilantro. It doesn't look like much, but the flavor was a perfect match for the curry.
Finally, I made some dessert crêpes with an apple caramel sauce and whipped cream. I found my savory crêpes didn't taste of anything much at all, so I wanted to make sure these had an actual flavor of their own to contribute. I didn't have an exact recipe, so I just followed a savory crêpe recipe, used less salt, and added sugar and vanilla extract. They turned out great. I'm thinking of crêpes kinda like wine -- if it doesn't taste good on its own, you shouldn't be cooking with it.
I made the crêpes and the sauce the night before. The sauce consisted of water, brown sugar, diced apples and cinnamon, simmered until soft, buzzed with an immersion blender -- and a bit of lemon juice. I added some strips of fresh apple (to offset the sweetness of the sauce), whipped cream and crumbled ginger snap cookies for some crunch.
This went over real well, but I think I'll reserve it for a night when I'm not cooking the main course...
Apparently, Laotian food sometimes makes use of Indian curry powder, which I've never seen in Thai food. This struck me as a bit odd, since Thailand is closer to India than Laos -- but perhaps there are some historical, cultural ties there somewhere...
Laos frequently uses dill in their seafood (it is sometimes referred to as Laotian coriander (leaves -- ie., cilantro)). It's never cooked, but just added as a garnish. This is a great idea -- it is a great addition to a spicy seafood curry. Only problem, in all the excitement, I forgot to chop it up... An excellent dish. Oh, and I put some plain, boiled rice in the bowl -- traditionally, this dish is eaten by dipping sticky lumps of rice into the soup, but that didn't strike me as very practical...
Finally, I made some dessert crêpes with an apple caramel sauce and whipped cream. I found my savory crêpes didn't taste of anything much at all, so I wanted to make sure these had an actual flavor of their own to contribute. I didn't have an exact recipe, so I just followed a savory crêpe recipe, used less salt, and added sugar and vanilla extract. They turned out great. I'm thinking of crêpes kinda like wine -- if it doesn't taste good on its own, you shouldn't be cooking with it.
This went over real well, but I think I'll reserve it for a night when I'm not cooking the main course...
