Thrill of the grill 1

Sure, there's something undeniably magical about barbecue that's been cooked slow and low with patience and care, the kind of barbecue that's the focus of Saveur's June/July 2011 "BBQ Nation" double issue. We love the entire culture that surrounds this heritage form of barbecue. We love all the fussing, the beer-drinking, and the jawing that goes into an all-day barbecue session. And we never cease to be amazed by the transformative power of that holy smoke coupled with the mild heat from those ashy coals.

fig. a: thrill of the grill

But sometimes you just want the pure thrill of the grill. You want the slight blackening, the light smokiness, the caramelized flavors, and the primal pleasures of cooking directly over flames. You want the payoff to come sooner rather than later. You want to take full advantage of the fact that cooking over a hot grill can be quick and easy.

Among our favorite sources for this kind of grilling are Rose Gray and Ruth Rogers, the chefs behind London's legendary River Cafe and the authors of the utterly brilliant "Easy" series: River Cafe Cookbook Easy (2003) and Italian Two Easy: Simple Recipes From the London River Cafe (2006). Both cookbooks fall under the "simple recipes for busy people" genre, but their concision, their clarity, and their clever minimalist design put them in the top of their class.

Years ago, we featured a recipe of theirs from River Cafe Cookbook Easy that we'd adapted for the grill. The recipe was for pork chops with lemon, and Gray and Rogers called for it to be executed it in an ovenproof griddle pan, but it was a lovely late-spring afternoon and we were very much in a grilling state of mind, and our simple adaptation of their simple recipe (two ingredients!) turned out beautifully. We could have just as easily chosen from the dozens of grilling recipes contained in Gray and Rogers' two books, but, in that particular case, we started with a very specific ingredient: the pork chops.

One recipe that we haven't had to adapt, and that's been a favorite around here recently, is a recipe that appears in the "grilled fish & meat" chapter of Italian Two Easy: Simple Recipes From the London River Cafe and that bears a typically matter-of-fact title: Flattened Sardine, Chile, Lemon.

fig. b: sardines by River Cafe

Four ingredients--that's it, that's all. And once you've figured out how to butterfly your sardines, you're almost to the finish line, because flattened sardines cook even faster than whole ones.

The lemon and the olive oil are no-brainers. They're both staples of Mediterranean grilling. It's the butterfly technique, the use of the lemon zest, and the added kick of the chiles that are the stroke of genius here.

Flattened Sardine, Chile, Lemon

16 sardines
4 dried hot chiles
5 lemons
extra-virgin olive oil

To flatten the sardines, cut off the head and then prize open the fish. Press down to loosen the bone, then remove it from the flesh, pulling gently with your fingers.

Crumble the chiles. Finely grate the zest from the three lemons; halve the remaining lemons.

Prepare the grill.

Rub the flesh of the sardines with chile, salt, pepper, and lemon zest.

fig. c: sardines by AEB

Place skin-side down on the grill and cook for 1 to 2 minutes. Turn over and grill flesh-side down for 1 to 2 minutes longer.

Drizzle with olive oil, and serve with lemons.

[recipe from Italian Two Easy: Simple Recipes From the London River Cafe, by Rose Gray and Ruth Rogers]

A couple of additional notes:

1) Because the sardines we've been using have been rather delicate, we've found that they cook best on the outer edges of a medium-hot grill (the cooking times remain the same--about two minutes per side). We've been saving the center of our grill for the assortment of vegetables we've been grilling simultaneously: mushrooms, scallions, fennel, ramps, asparagus, etc.

2) Gray and Rogers don't specify, but you're going to need a spatula to handle those delicate sardines once you've placed them on the grill. Other implements tend to tear the poor dears.

This recipe is, well... easy. It's also incredibly delicious--addictive, even. The only trick is finding a good source for your fresh sardines. This is reasonably easy in some parts of North America (like Northern California), but not so easy in others.

Montreal has such a large number of citizens of Portuguese and Italian descent that the demand for sardines is high, but our experience has been that some days of the week are much better than others. We've been having very good luck on Mondays recently, so our sardine fiestas have tended to be on Mondays.

This recipe makes for a great starter for a group, but it also makes for a great light meal for two, with a salad, some bread, and a crisp white. We can attest to that. These sardines--delicate, crispy, piquant, and easy--have been the taste of late spring around here. And, like I said, they're addictive. They might very well become the taste of the summer of 2011 too.

aj

p.s. Rose Gray passed away in early 2010. May she rest in peace.

Blood, Bones, and Butter, Metal Mountains, etc.

fig. a: the lamb roast

We'd been itching to check out Gabrielle Hamilton's Prune for years. People we trusted kept urging us to go, and we'd heard nothing but the most enthusiastic reviews. Then we started to catch wind of a new book by Hamilton--not a cookbook, but a memoir. And then her story "The Lamb Roast" appeared in the January 17, 2011 issue of The New Yorker--a little foretaste of the book, now officially titled Blood, Bones, and Butter and slated for release in March--and that sealed the deal. The next thing you knew, Michelle was talking a lot about extravagant outdoor roasts--lamb and goat roasts, mostly. The next thing you knew, Prune had become a #1 priority.

The story was about a lamb roast, yes. More specifically, it was about an elaborate lamb roast her eccentric set-designer father threw for friends and family on their sprawling property in rural Pennsylvania, an undertaking inspired by "a photograph torn from a magazine of two Yugoslav men roasting a lamb over a pit." But, really, it was about so much more. And although there was a certain nostalgia to Hamilton's story--the "sexy black cat-eye eyeliner" fashioned after '60s icons like Audrey Hepburn and Sophia Loren that her mother wore; the pre-McMansion innocence of the Pennsylvania/New Jersey landscape; the insouciance of riding untethered in the back of a pickup truck; the traditional family-owned butcher shop in the days before "artisanal," "organic," and "free-range"--this was a tale of heartbreak, or, perhaps more accurately, a tale of innocence lost.  Either way, there was a lot there that the two of us could relate to--the artistic milieu, the barbecue, and the "meadow filled with people and fireflies and laughter," the freedoms of childhood in the '60s and '70s and the Led Zep--and it got us pretty excited about the impending release of Blood, Bones, and Butter, not to mention a Prune pilgrimage.

Near the end of March, we decided to make a last-minute trip to New York for Michelle's birthday. It was Saturday morning, the day before we were scheduled to leave, and we were brainstorming about things we wanted to do while we were there. We knew we wanted to be in the East Village on Sunday night--there was a concert there that night that we wanted to catch. "The concert's at 8:00. Should we eat before? Where should we go?" "I know," Michelle exclaimed, "Prune!" Yeah, right. As if... But we did want to eat early. Hmmm... Nothing to lose from calling, right? So we did. And sure enough they were booked up. But then the woman on the other line revealed a little secret.

"How many are you?"

"Two."

"We always keep a table for two open for walk-ins, and you can't reserve the seats at the bar."

We liked where she was going with this.

"We open at 5:30. If you show up right at 5:30, I can pretty much guarantee you'll get seated--either at a table or at the bar."

"Pretty much guarantee..."? Perfect. We'd make sure to be there right a 5:30.

It worked like a charm. We showed up at 5:15, and by 5:30 we were seated at a very small, very cozy table in the very small, very cozy space that is Prune. The Velvet Underground's Loaded was roaring over the stereo. The room was filled with a golden, late-afternoon light. We couldn't have been happier. We took a quick look at the menu to get our bearings, ordered a bottle of Frappato on the recommendation of our waitress, and made our final deliberations.

fig. b: wine

Prune's menu is simple, elemental, and ever so tempting. We wanted to try everything, but settled on just a few choices.

Marrow bones to begin with.

fig. c: bones

(Hamilton describing her mother's kitchen: "Her burnt-orange Le Creuset pots and casseroles, scuffed and blackened, were always filled with tails, claws, and marrow-filled bones that she was stewing or braising on the back three burners.")

Then a grilled lamb chop with skordalia, a whole grilled striped bass stuffed with fennel and herbs,

fig. d: fish

and leeks vinaigrette with mimosaed eggs (again, just like Hamilton's mom used to make).

We felt so good after that meal, we strutted out of Prune and into a surprisingly warm early-spring evening in the East Village. And twenty minutes later we were immersed in the psych-folk sounds of Metal Mountains.

fig. e: 2/3 metal mountains

A couple of hours after that, we found ourselves at Rai Rai Ken again,

fig. f: inside Rai Rai Ken

not so much because we were hungry, but because we were in New York, and the night was young.

We ate a lot of great things while we were in New York, but the simple elegance of that meal at Prune was particularly memorable. I'd even go so far as to say that it left Michelle positively Prune-obsessed. Maybe a little too Prune-obsessed.

You see, I had it on good authority that she had a copy of Blood, Bones, and Butter in her future. But she was so Prune-obsessed that she wanted it now. My feigned indifference must have tipped her off, because she really started pressing buttons.

"I really want to read Blood, Bones, and Butter. Should I buy it right now? Should I order it? What do you think? Should I get it now? I should get it now."

I've gotten pretty good at withstanding these barrages, but this time I crumbled. "No, probably best to hold off on that one, honey."

Wouldn't you know it? The pressing of buttons subsided. And, sure enough, Michelle got her copy of Blood, Bones, and Butter a couple of days later.

She made quick work of it. Almost as quick as that meal at Prune. For a couple of days, there it was, sitting on her bedside table.

fig. g: blood, bones, butter, boris

And then it was gone. The verdict? Particularly memorable.

Now it's on my bedside table.

Prune, 54 East 1st St., # 1, New York, NY, (212) 677-6221

For more about Blood, Bones, and Butter, check out Hamilton's book-related website.

aj

* Apparently, there were many of these elaborate affairs, including an exotic Moroccan party, a "Valentine's Day Lovers' Dinner that featured a swan motif prominently because, as her father explained, "Swans mate for life," and a Russian Winter Ball styled after the ice palace scene from Doctor Zhivago (naturally).