My Cheating Heart - Easy Cassoulet

All right, I haven't always told the truth when it comes to affairs of the heart. I am a liar. And a no good cheatin' two timer. It all started with an innocent run around in Paris. Undeniably the world's most romantic city. I wandered the streets looking for love. A fashionably svelte interlude at the Hotel Crillon? Too expensive. Perhaps something more natural and affordable in the Latin Quarter - non, non...I wanted to savor this indiscretion. I was seeking the best cassoulet I could find in this overwhelmingly gorgeous city.

I walked discreetly through the 6th arrondisement avoiding Jacques Cagna's expensive flagship namesake. I craved something tawdry and cheap. Peasant food. But there she was - the bistro La Rotisserie d'en Face. Understated and elegant. I sat down shamelessly calling out my desire. The two of us. Alone. Me, with my fork, playfully amused at the bubbling earthenware dish. And every bite of that cassoulet made me want more. Rich. Warm. Smooth. Soulful. When I was done there was only one word to describe this sensational entanglement. Afterglow.

I haven't been totally honest with you. I know I have written in the past that I favor cooking techniques more than specific types of foods or cuisines as I have written about here. OK. I'll admit it. I have straight out lied to you about this and I am sorry. I actually have a favorite food. And it is cassoulet. A love affair really.

You know how in some Eastern religions, such as Hinduism, where you are reincarnated and come back in the next life as a higher form than your previous existence? I want to come back as cassoulet. But there is one little problem. And since I am coming clean about my past I'll admit I am not just a liar. I am bearing my soul right now. I'm a cheater too.

I cannot stand the process of making a traditional cassoulet. Anything that takes three days to prepare and countless hours to come out of the oven - well let's just say I'll pay someone else for that guilty pleasure. Soaking beans overnight. Breaking and re-doing the crust of the baked stew as it soaks up cooking liquid in a hot oven. It's really too much for any one person to undertake. However, I can't begin to describe the delight of a perfectly executed French cassoulet. A rich and thick garlicky base. Beans that are creamy yet firm. A touch of thyme, my all "time" favorite herb. And then there are those meats. Duck confit. Sausages. Bacon or lardon. Nestled warmly in an earthenware dish under a duvet of golden crisp breadcrumbs. Excuse me, I need a moment to myself.

All that said, I like to make "cheaters" cassoulet if I am not ordering off a menu. Not as good as the original mind you. But in a pinch it's hard to beat. Cassoulet typically uses a white bean, such as a cannellini, although I also have had excellent versions with lentils. And the meats can be whatever you enjoy. Lamb, duck breast, pancetta, or cubes of pork. I am a sucker for duck and fortunately you can find reasonably priced duck confit nowadays at gourmet supermarkets like Whole Foods. I almost always buy a duck confit and crisp it in the oven for cheaters cassoulet. It gets you close to the original with virtually no work.

And the beans. I used pre-cooked and canned cannellinis. Sure you can buy dried ones, pick them over for rocks, and soak them overnight for the traditional experience. But why do all that when the final product of this method is only marginally better? I'm just saying...

A cold evening. A warm dish of cassoulet with a glass of Cote du Rhone. Thoughts of Paris running through my mind...I'll two-time any day for a little of that action.

Recipe for Easy "Cheaters" Cassoulet

Serves 2

Ingredients

2 duck confit legs

2 sausages (Italian, Garlic, whatever you like), cut into 1/2 inch rounds

4 oz applewood smoked bacon, chopped into 1/2 inch pieces

1/2 yellow onion cut in 1/2 inch dice

2 carrots cut into 1/4 inch dice

6 garlic gloves, peeled and thinly sliced

5 sprigs of fresh thyme

5 sprigs of fresh Italian parsley

1 bay leaf

1 Tbsp tomato paste

1/2 C chopped peeled Italian tomatoes

2 14 oz cans of cooked cannellini (white kidney) beans

Dash of cayenne pepper

salt

pepper

1 1/2 C fresh bread crumbs

3 cloves garlic, minced

3 Tbsp Italian parsley, chopped

3 Tbsp butter

Method

Heat an oven to 400 degrees or 375 if using a convection oven. Butter a 13 inch earthenware dish.

In a large oven proof skillet (14 inch diameter) place duck confit legs and roast in the oven for 15 minutes until crisp. In a bowl combine chopped onion, carrot, thyme, parsley, bay leaf, and sliced garlic.

Remove skillet from oven and set duck confit legs aside. Heat skillet over medium heat. Add chopped bacon and cook until crisp, about 3 minutes. Move bacon to the side of the skillet and brown sausage on both sides about 3 to 4 minutes. Add duck confit legs back into the skillet. Add vegetables and cook until nicely carmelized and soft, about 10 minutes. Add tomato paste, chopped tomatoes and beans. Cook for 2-3 minutes over medium high heat until are ingredients are blended. Add enough water to just cover the beans and bring to a boil. Carefully remove the duck confit with tongs into the earthenware baking dish and then cover with the beans mixture. Cover with aluminum foil and place in the oven for 35 minutes.

Combine bread crumbs, minced garlic and chopped parsley in a bowl. Melt butter. Remove foil from baking dish. Season cassoulet with a dash or two of cayenne pepper, salt and ground black pepper. Cover cassoulet with breadcrumb mixture and drizzle melted butter over the top. Cook uncovered for 10 more minutes. Remove from oven and let the dish rest 2-3 minutes while your dining partners ogle over how beautiful your hot little dish is. Serve.

Sweetly Savoring Brussels

I truly adore chocolate. And every time I taste it I am brought right back to one of the best places I have indulged myself. Enveloped in the old world Belgian capital of Brussels. A city of contrast and history that diplomatically negotiates with itself over competing Dutch and French roots. Some say Brussels is the smaller cousin to Paris. Sort of its “mini-me” to the French.

Brussels (Bruxelles in French) is home to the European Union, the remarkable La Grande-Place (a UNESCO World Heritage site), and the no less intriguing and very amusing Manneken Pis...one of the world's earliest well known "small men". He pre-dated another famous smaller French gentleman by about 600 years (Napoleon). Small, but aggressive, Napoleon was a bold contender in a small package. He was permantently exiled after his loss at the Battle of Waterloo in Belgium.

Brussels is an elegant, reserved and understated younger sister to Paris. No less welcoming than the Gaulic capital, she is coy about her petite figure, regardless of her oversized affect on the world.

Belgium is known, and has been over centuries, for chocolate. While major strides have been made in the United States to better appreciate and understand this gourmet extragavance, it is the adherence of old world manufacturing techniques, made in small batches, that delivers such gastronomic delight.

Delicate. Complex. Warm. And very lively. Truly an adult taste. I might be describing a confection from Leonidas. Or a singularly monumental taste of Neuhaus. Or perhaps the quirky Belgian love of french fries and mayonaisse.

But I am not. I am describing Brussels Sprouts.

Cultivated in what is now Belgium since the 13th century, this vegetable is grown in cooler climates from autumn to spring. If you can buy them on the stock they will stay fresh for several days. Cooking the sprouts too long brings upon a bitter taste. A bit like the "Napoleon of Cabbage" (they hail from the same family roots), brussels sprouts are loaded with excellent sources of vitamin A, C and dietary fiber. An alter ego that is laughably small, yet a culinary force that must be paid attention to. Cooked correctly they are delicious and there is no need to exile them from your kitchen.

The word "vegetable" comes from the old French root “vegetābilis” and latin stem “vegetare” which means “to enliven”. A previous trip to Belgium gave us the opportunity to stay at the boutique Brussels Welcome Hotel. Upon entry of the modest exterior the place immediately transformed us from old to new, and back, with a lively display of rooms set in exotic themes from around the world. Strolling through the ancient and reserved capital, a player by design or circumstance in many of the empires over the last 10 centuries, I thought of the the clever English poet Andrew Marvel who authored “To his Coy Mistress” and wrote:

“Had we but world enough, and time,
This coyness, lady, were no crime.
We would sit down and think which way
To walk, and pass our long love's day;
Thou by the Indian Ganges' side
Shouldst rubies find; I by the tide…
…My vegetable love should grow
Vaster than empires, and more slow.”

My vegetative soul has shown me that brussels sprouts, unlike gourmet chocolate, do not take themselves seriously. They’ve been around much too long to worry about their place in the world. Reserved and understated. Yet bold and enlivening when they need to be. A pleasantly coy alternative with a deceptively delicious story to tell.

Recipe for Brussels Sprouts
with Dijon Mustard Thyme Butter

Serves 4

Ingredients

1 lb brussels sprouts, halved with outer leaves removed

1/4 lb (one stick) unsalted butter, room temperature

1 T Dijon mustard

1 shallot finely chopped

1 clove garlic, minced

1 T fresh thyme leaves, chopped

salt and pepper

Method

Bring a 3 quart sauce pan of water to a boil. When boiling, add salt and then brussels sprouts. Cook for 7 to 8 minutes at a low boil.

While the brussels sprouts are cooking, make the butter by combining all the ingredients in a small bowl.

Drain the brussels sprouts and then add back into the warm saucepan. Add the mustard thyme butter, coating the sprouts well. Season with salt and cracked black pepper and serve.

This recipe was adopted from Deborah Madison's "Vegetarian Cooking for Everyone".

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.