French Dip - Mussels "Provencale" Style

My entire food life revolves around sauce. Dry rubs - forget it. A simple grilled piece of fish or steak? Not interested. That rich chocolate torte you made and are putting in front of me...It better have some raspberry coulis next to it or I may just get nasty.

I'm saucy and not afraid to say it.

I am not sure how this evolved. My dad and I virtually come to blows when we discuss barbeque sauce and its place on the table so it's clearly not genetic (as you can probably tell, I think it belongs, he thinks it should be banished).

On my last night in San Diego before moving up to the Bay Area, we walked over to a wonderfully casual French bistro called Bleu Boheme in Kensington. Earlier that day I had crashed the U-haul moving truck into a neighbor's car which ended up costing $2400. A few really nice dinners in Aix-en-Provence. Add to that a dead battery and an hour on the phone with a less than helpful customer service rep hadn't helped my mood. I was miffed. OK, pissed off actually (excuse my French). Working all day, my muscles were tired from lugging boxes and lifting furniture. I was exhausted mentally, physically, and economically.

Entering the restaurant brought me right back to a trip in the south of France to Provence. Warm mineral walls and light blue banquettes. The smell of lavender herbs you find in the country outside Arles. A whiff of herbal anise scented Pernod from a pastis in Nice. The troubled and lovely Edith Piaf crooning "La vie en rose" in the background. I needed liquid therapy.

I dove headfirst into a whirlpool bath glass of champagne to get my bearings. Sipping measuredly, I started to calm down a bit. Just enough to open the menu and look at the 6 choices of mussels they were serving that night. Because all of that flavor isn't in the gentle tasting bi-valve molluscs of the Mediterranean.

It was time for something with real dipping potential to satisfy my hunger and saucy worldview.

Herbs. Pernod. White Wine. Mussels steamed to perfection in this Provencale goodness. And a basket of warm, crusty French bread to soak it all up.

I made my own version of the Blue Boheme dish from that evening and took some inspiration from the fabulously talented Maria Helm Sinskey's "The Vineyard Kitchen" to come up with this version adding a generous amount of herbs, some Pernod, and my secret weapon for adding flavor to sauces - anchovies.

This came out very well and is fairly easy to make. With all that delectable sauce I could eat a truckload of these...Damned U-Haul.

Recipe for Mussels Provencale
Serves 2

1 lb black mussels (12-15 per person)
3 T olive oil
1 small shallot, diced
1 clove garlic, minced
1 anchovy, minced
2 tomatoes, peeled, seeded and chopped
4 sprigs fresh thyme
6 large basil leaves, julienned
1 pinch salt
1 C white wine
1 t Pernod liqueur*
1 T fresh Italian parsley, chopped

Scrub the mussels and debeard them. Keep them cool or refrigerated until ready to cook. In a large saucepan or Dutch oven, head the olive oil over a medium high flame. Add the shallots and cook for 3 to 4 minutes until soft. Add the garlic and cook for one more minute. Add the anchovy and cook for 1 minute. Add the tomatoes and cook for about 2 minutes until they begin to break down. Add the thyme sprigs, half of the basil, salt and wine. Bring to a boil. Add the pernod and place the mussels in the pan. Cover and cook over medium high heat for 6-7 minutes, shaking the pan 2-3 times. Take off the lid and discard any unopened mussels. Using a sloted spoon place the mussels into ceramic bowls. Remove the thyme sprigs and ladle the sauce over the mussels. Garnish with remaining fresh basil and parsley. Serve with french bread toast and white wine.

*Pernod is French made liquor that has a black licorice taste. You can substitute 3 T of chopped fennel and saute with the shallots for a similar and very tasty effect.

Recipe for Garlic & Herb French Toast
1 artisan baguette, sliced lengthwise in half
1/2 stick butter, melted
2 cloves garlic, minced
4 T fresh Italian parsley, chopped
salt
cracked black pepper

Pre-heat an oven to 325 degrees. Brush each side of the sliced bread with melted butter. Spread minced garlic and parsley over bread and season lightly with salt and pepper. Place the bread halves back together and wrap tightly in aluminum foil. Bake for 15 minutes. Slice into 2 or 3 inch portions and serve.

The Pleasure of an Omelet

I can't get my mind off of her. I don't care that she was once scorned. Her curves. Delicate. A smooth touch. I used to sneak around, making sure no one saw us together. There is no need to vilify her anymore simply because of what she does for a living. She is so gorgeous and sensual. She gives me exactly what I need, when I need it. Her pleasure is intoxicating.


I love eggs. They discreetly support our culinary dalliances yet pleasure us with decadent simplicity. A complementary dancer in a waltz of smooth custard. A rock steady partner that never misses a step in the rhumba of chilaquiles. A uniter (more so than any politician) of disparate ingredients that brings together the necessary ingredients to give us a perfectly baked cake. And, at her best she is a perfect guide to savor the purity of deliciously simple ingredients. You know her well. Brulee, flan, custard. Sinful.


I know all this to be true having had the pleasure of eating omelets in Paris. And I thank the country of France for my obsession and love for eggs. Why? Because while the French excel at the techniques of thoughtful and meaningful cooking (versus phoning it in), there are certain foods they simply cook better than anyone else. If you have not been to France, I hope you make time to go at least once in your life to see what I mean. There are many reasons to visit, but they way they cook eggs is reason enough for me. Excellent cooking focuses on the technical execution of simple ingredients. Only the French can cook fish in a simple way with a sincerity of perfection I have never been able to replicate or taste outside their country. The smell of real artisan breads, baguettes, croissants. The airiness. Deeply rustic or gentle crusts that are not an afterthought. And then there is the egg. In my opinion a true chef (not necessarily a professional that gets paid to cook) who cares about the end state of their cooking respects the egg and can cook her well. The French do and they do it with seriousness. They view the egg as a central player in the most respected of all meals from a preparation standpoint: dinner.


My first tryst with our mistress of the carton was at Christian Constant's Michelin 3 starred restaurant La Violon D'Ingress in the 7th arrondisement on Rue Saint-Dominque in Paris. A perfectly poached egg sitting atop a salad, with lardons and mustard dressing. Simply cutting into this oval of goodness was an experience I cannot forget. A slightly set yolk that was soft and flavorful. It elevated a simple salad to something greater. Another trip to Paris, brought me to Jamin, where chef Benoit Guichard (Superstar chef Joel Robuchon's executive chef) took over and made a crayfish stuffed raviolo with an egg yolk center. Bursting out of the first cut, the yolk came forth, making a bright orange sauce that delicately complemented the filling. No matter how conservative some view M. Guichard's approach to cooking versus his predecessor, I don't really care. The man knows how to cook an egg.

Yet for all of these expensive dining experiences, my favorite way to enjoy the French commitment to cooking eggs is from the humble omelet. Although not complicated to make, it is difficult to cook them perfectly. I have found that using a non stick pan will deliver the most consistent results. Eggfully soft and flavorful of the yolk's goodness, but not overdone. A medium flame provides the right amount of heat to allow the protein to harden. Too high of a heat and the eggs will become tough. Mixing in a small amount of cream, milk or even sparkling water, provides a better cooking base than simply a beaten yolk. Add about 1 TBSP for each egg. The most effective technique for properly cooking an omelet simply involves the use of a fork or small spatula that allows you to pull the cooked edges inward to the center so you can slightly lift the pan and allow the liquid egg mixture to move to the perimeter of the omelet. Doing it this way means you don't have to flip the omelet over, a true mark of proper cooking by not "disturbing" the food.




Fillings for omelet are endless. However, I find the tanginess and creaminess of goat cheese and the freshness of chopped chives to be the most enjoyable way to have an omelet. Add the ingredients to the center of the cooked omelet and fold it over about 20 seconds prior to coming off the heat. A simply tossed salad of butter or red-oak leaf lettuce with a mustard and shallot vinaigrette and a glass of champagne makes this the perfect summer evening meal.


Recipe for Goat Cheese and Chive Omelet
Serves 1

Ingredients
2 large eggs
1 TBSP milk
Kosher salt
Grind of black pepper
3 oz goat cheese
3 TBSP chives, finely chopped
1 TBSP butter for the pan


Method
In a small bowl, beat eggs, milk, salt and pepper gently to combine. Do not over mix, about 10-12 strokes is all that is needed. Heat a nonstick or seasoned 10 inch skillet over medium heat for 60 seconds. Add butter and let it melt to coat the pan. Pour egg mixture into pan and let it cook undisturbed for about 30-45 seconds until the edges start to harden slightly. Using a fork or spatula, gently pull the edges to the center of the pan. Tilt the pan slightly to move the liquid egg mixture outwards to the edges of the pan, keeping the entire pan base covered and let it set. It should take approximately 90 seconds to cook the omelet to this stage. Crumble the goat cheese onto the half of the omelet that is furthest away from the pan handle. You will want to do it this way because you will use the pan handle to flip the uncovered part of the omelet over the top of the goat cheese when you are done cooking. Sprinkle chives over the entire omelet. Slide the omelet onto a warmed plate (175 degree oven for 5 minutes) with the goat cheese covered half coming out of the pan first. When the goat cheese portion of the omelet is on the plate flip the other half of the omelet over the top. You will be able to do this easily because you are holding the pan handle. Dust the top of the omelet with 1 TBSP chopped chives, and a few grinds of fresh black pepper.

I let the omelet rest for about 60 seconds before serving. This is similar in a sense to allowing a piece of meat to rest when coming out of an oven or off a hot grill. The heat of the omelet will melt the goat cheese and dissipate slightly so your first mouthful won't be too hot.

Please enjoy. It's OK if everyone is watching you.