fava up first

fig. a: the three faces of fava

As Alice Waters puts it in Chez Panisse Vegetables, "The fava bean, Vicia fabia, was the bean of Europe before contact with the New World." A few hundred years later, the fava bean--especially in its young, tender, spring/summer incarnation--became the bean of California Cuisine. Waters goes on to describe the scene at Chez Panisse every spring when the favas come into season:

Shelling fava beans has become a springtime ritual at the restaurant. Big baskets of them are brought out to keep all hands busy during long meetings, menu discussions, and even job interviews.

And in the Chez Panisse Café Cookbook, Waters puts it like this:

It's not uncommon in informal cafés in Europe to see waiters peeling garlic during a quiet time. At Chez Panisse, they peel fava beans--lots of them. Sometimes the customers standing at the bar help out.

Here in Montreal, fava beans are hardly an important part of the local cuisine--nouvelle or otherwise--but there is certainly enough of a Mediterranean presence in the region (thank god!) to make fava beans a part of our seasonal, early-21st century diet. You definitely have to go out and look for them, though--in your markets, in your seasonally minded restaurants. And, remember, the season is short. As indicated above, fava beans are very much a harbinger of spring in Northern California. Around here, however, they're a mid-summer crop, and, friends, the time is now.

To get the full fava bean experience, you have to do a little work--shelling and peeling them requires some determination because you have to get from that big, long, fleshy pod stage, to that pale green/off-white stage, to that bright green stage [pictured above]--but all that work pays off, because once you've managed to extract that bright green, kidney-shaped bean from its protective layers, the cooking time is practically instant, and its seductive charms are immediate.

Most standard accounts of shelling and peeling favas go something like this one in Alice Waters, Patricia Curtan, and Martine Labro's Chez Panisse: Pasta, Pizza, and Calzone:

Picked young enough, they can be shelled and eaten raw, skin and all. When they are a little older and the skin is no longer bright green, they must be skinned. A good way to do this is to blanch the shelled beans for a minute or so [elsewhere Waters recommends "30 seconds to 1 minute"] in boiling water. Drain them and allow to cool. Use your thumbnail to pull open the sprout end and squeeze the bean out of its skin. It will pop right out. Once you get the hang of it, this goes very quickly.

Some chefs, like Zuni Cafe's Judy Rodgers, prefer keeping fava beans raw, arguing that the blanching process, however short, changes the texture of the beans too much. But in our own experience, blanching the beans for 30-60 seconds has produced the results we've been the happiest with. If you want to give raw fava beans a spin--and there's no reason you shouldn't--both Rodgers and Waters recommend serving them in the Tuscan style, with salami, and possibly a sheep's milk cheese (Rodgers also recommends a Ligurian white--Vermentino "Vigna U Munte," Colle dei Bardellini, 2000--as her wine pairing).

But, like I said, our favorite fava bean preparation involves blanching the beans slightly, then gently sautéing them to create a basic ragù. The last fava bean dish I made was based on this recipe from Waters, Curtan, and Labro's book:

Fettucine, fava beans, saffron, & crème fraîche

1/2 pound [fresh] fava beans
1 tbsp virgin olive oil
1 clove garlic
salt and pepper
a few fresh basil leaves
3/4 cup crème fraîche
saffron
fettucine for 2
fresh chives

Shell and skin the fava beans [see directions above]. Cook them gently in olive oil with the chopped garlic for 2 to 3 minutes. Season with salt and pepper. Add some basil leaves cut in ribbons, the crème fraîche, and a small pinch of saffron. Cook another few minutes, then cook the fettucine and add to the beans. Season the noodles with salt and pepper and toss with the favas. Serve garnished with a sprinkling of chives.

I liked the idea of combining sautéed fava beans with saffron, but I also wanted to combine them with ricotta salata, an idea I'd swiped from yet another recipe. Our fava bean and pasta recipe went something like this.

Fava beans & farfalle

1 pound fresh fava beans
1/4 cup extra-virgin olive oil
saffron
3 cloves garlic, finely minced
zest from one lemon, finely minced
4 spring onions, chopped
1 lb farfalle
1/2 cup grated ricotta salata
salt and pepper
basil leaves

Shell and skin the fava beans [see directions above]. Heat the olive oil in a frying pan over medium heat. Add the saffron, stir briefly so that the olive oil begins taking on the saffron's color, then add the fava beans. Sauté the beans for 30-60 seconds, then add the garlic and the lemon zest and sauté for another few minutes, until the garlic becomes lightly golden. Turn off the heat and add the spring onions, folding them into the mixture.

Meanwhile cook the farfalle until al dente. Drain the pasta, reserving about a cup of the pasta water.

In a large bowl, mix together the pasta, the fava bean mixture, and the ricotta salata, adding a bit of the pasta water if the combination seems dry [note: you may not need to add any additional liquid]. Salt and pepper to taste, keeping in mind that the ricotta salata is very salty (hence the name), so make sure to taste the pasta before adding any salt, because you might not need any.

Have fun. Act fast. Eat well.

Good sources for fava bean recipes:

Judy Rodgers, The Zuni Cafe Cookbook
Alice Waters, Chez Panisse Vegetables
Alice Waters, Chez Panisse Café Cookbook
Alice Waters, Patricia Curtan, and Martine Labro, Chez Panisse: Pasta, Pizza, and Calzone
Paula Wolfert, Paula Wolfert's World of Food

Great source for fava beans:

Birri & frères, Jean-Talon Market, 276-3202

aj

Bytown Bivalves

fig. a: l-r: taps, oysters, turntable

Taps, oysters, turntable. What more do you need?

How about a seriously outstanding kitchen, first-rate, sustainably harvested seafood that's sourced in-house, and friendly, knowledgeable service? Or how about a place that runs its own sustainable oyster & fish store, wholesales their seafood to local restaurants, and hosts an annual oyster festival?

Sound too good to be true? Well, believe it.

And just where is this oyster oasis, this seafood sanctuary? Ottawa. That's right, Ottawa, at a cozy little place called The Whalesbone on Bank Street.

Yes, Montreal is a couple of hundred kilometers closer to the Atlantic, yes, Montreal sits on the St-Lawrence Seaway, and, yes, there's no shortage of good seafood in this town. But exceptional seafood? Those places you can count on one hand. And, I'm sorry, but there's nothing in Montreal that resembles The Whalesbone. For years now, we've been praying for someone to open a straight-up raw bar here in Montreal. Nothing fancy, just a simple counter, a knowledgeable staff, and plenty of supremely fresh seafood. Something along the lines of this. To this day, our prayers have gone unanswered. Why? Who knows... It's just another one of the Mysteries of Montreal.

But we've got to hand it to these Whalesbone people--not only are they talented, but they're smart, too. They've got the oyster house, they've got the oyster & seafood supply, they've got the oyster festival, and they cater a helluva lot of oyster parties (think embassies, think government office parties, think corporate office parties...). Talk about a business plan.

I'd gotten my first taste of The Whalesbone's magic on a business trip back in May, and it left such a powerful impression that I promised Michelle I'd take her there just as soon as I could. Two weeks ago, when I had to go back to Ottawa to do some research,

fig. b: Montreal by night

I made good on my promise. What did we have? Well, we got two small platters of oysters (we balked at the Shucker's Choice, found that one just wasn't enough, and we came this close to getting a third, bringing us up to 18, and just asking our friendly neighborhood shucker to cut us the Shucker's Choice price retroactively), consisting of Colville Bays (P.E.I.), Eel Lakes (N.S.), and St. Simons (N.B.). The Whalesbone had an impressive assortment of sauces and condiments to go along with the oysters, including an incendiary Scotch Bonnet pepper sauce and some 12-year-old Scotch, but these oysters were so good, so totally evocative of the Maritime waters from which they were harvested, that we kept things simple (Michelle likes a bit of lemon, I take the occasional dash of Tabasco, and we both love freshly grated horseradish [see below]).

fig. c: oyster platter*

Then we moved straight into our mains: Michelle got the hand-picked Qualicum Beach (B.C.) scallops with garlic scapes, the creamiest white navy beans, double smoked bacon, bitter greens, and maple (A+); while I got the Catch of the Day, which was an absurdly good combination of lobster, scallops, halibut, and wild mushrooms (A+). And we topped things off by dipping into their brilliant sundaes bar (one scoop for $7, two for $8, three for $9, and tons of great homemade toppings, like boozy strawberries, butterscotch, and artisanal honey). All this plus a nice selection of ice-cold Ontario microbrews on tap, and some choice tunes (Jackie Mittoo, The Band) on the turntable (no ipod here). Actually, now that I think about it, our friendly neighborhood shucker was doing some serious multitasking--not only was he furiously shucking platter after platter of oysters all night long, not only was he indulging the two of us with repartee, but he was also our friendly neighborhood bartender/friendly neighborhood DJ.

The Whalesbone Oyster House, 430 Bank Street, Ottawa, (613) 231-8569

Whalesbone Sustainable Oyster & Fish Supply, 504A Kent Street, Ottawa, (613) 231-3474

aj

*This was not one of our oyster platters--we were too busy diving into ours to take pictures.

Currant events

fig. a: red currants

It's that time of year again, and over at Pavillon de la Pomme, our favorite local autocueillette establishment, you can find both red currants

fig. b: black currants

and black currants at the moment, with blueberries, gooseberries, and others on the horizon (if the Good Lord's willing, and the sun keeps shinin', that is). Red currants are a personal favorite, and you can definitely find enough for all your home canning needs, but a late frost and a whole lot of rain hasn't made for the best crop. Black currants, on the other hand, are a considerably heartier variety, and they seem to have absolutely thrived. We found the black currant bushes heavily laden with perfectly ripe berries, so we focused our attentions on them.

While you're out there, don't miss out on Pavillon de la Pomme's apple cider, apple cider vinegar, honey, and maple syrup (look for their private reserve in the clear glass bottles),

fig. c: fresh eggs

not to mention eggs so fresh their yolks will get up and talk to you.

aj

5/5

The New Laloux received its first review in the local press earlier today.

fig. a: Chaises Musicales 2, the sequel

The review appeared in Voir and, as you may have already surmised, it was the second part in a series on a "musical chairs" trend in Montreal's current fine dining scene.

Anyway, I think it's safe to say that Gildas Meneu's review is a glowing one. Just how glowing? Well...

fig. b: count 'em

(That's five out of five, or "grande table.")

Now, Éric Gonzalez is probably used to this kind of praise--he's been a critical darling everywhere he's touched ground in Montreal, and he even has a Michelin star under his belt. Michelle, however, is new at this game. This is the very first time she's been reviewed as head pastry chef, and Meneu's review was enthusiastic about her desserts:

DOUCEURS

Ici, Éric cède la place à Michelle Marek (en charge également du menu du Pop!, juste à côté), talentueuse pâtissière qui traite les desserts comme des plats à part entière. Si le fameux pot de crème de Patrice Demers figure toujours à la carte, tournez-vous plutôt vers ce gâteau aux amandes et aux cerises couvert de crème de camomille, d'un granité d'amandes et d'un sorbet à la cerise. Une petite merveille. Ou encore vers les doux contrastes du gâteau moelleux à l'orange et épices et son crémeux de chocolat aux noisettes grillées. Pas sûr que vous vous en remettrez.

For those of you out there in cyberland who might be francophonically challenged, we thought it might be funny if we enlisted the aid of Babel Fish in translating. The results looked like this:

SOFTNESSES

Here, Eric also yields the place to Michelle Marek (in load of the menu of the Pop one!, just at side), talented pâtissière who treats the desserts like dishes with whole share. If the famous pot of cream of Patrice Demers always appears in the chart, turn you rather towards this cake to almonds and cherries covered of cream of camomile, d'a granite d'almonds and d'a sorbet with cherry. A little marvel. Or towards soft contrasts of the marrowy cake with l' orange and spices and its crémeux of hazelnut chocolate roasted. Not sure that you will go back from there.

Mmm, marrowy cake!

The translation was so awful (predictably so), that it reminded us of a favorite cartoon of ours:

fig. c: Spy, December, 1987

If you're confused, a somewhat less automated translation might read as follows:

SWEETS

Here, Éric yields to Michelle Marek (who's also in charge of the menu of Pop! next door [Michelle's only in charge of the cocktails and the desserts at Pop!, not the entire menu--ed], the talented pastry chef who treats her desserts like dishes in their own right. Even though Patrice Demers's famous pot de crème still figures on the menu, direct yourself towards the cherry and almond cake with chamomile cream, almond granita, and cherry sorbet instead. It's a small marvel. Or towards the delicate contrasts of the orange & spice sponge cake and its chocolate crémeux with toasted hazelnuts. I'm not sure that you'll ever look back.

aj

Top Ten #30

fig. a: Only Angels...

1. Only Angels Have Wings, dir. Hawks

2. Toronto the Good

fig. b: A16

3. Nate Appleman and Shelly Lindgren, A16 + Meatball Mondays

4. A Young Summer Party, Cornwallville, NY

fig. c: Sonic Youth

5. Sonic Youth, The Eternal (Matador)

6. The Whalesbone Oyster House, Ottawa

fig. d: Alice Coltrane

7. Alice Coltrane, Journey in Satchidananda (Impulse)

8. Happy Go Lucky, dir. Leigh

fig. e: Abner Jay

9. Abner Jay, True Story of Abner Jay (Mississippi Records)

10. the new Laloux, Montreal

Toronto Notebook

For the most part I was there to hunker down in the archive of a library

fig. a: Space: 2009

so that I could do some research on some pioneering figures from the early history of Canadian cinema,

fig. b: les glâneuses et les glâneurs

but I was there for five days and four nights, so I also had a chance to do a little snooping around.

fig. c: mobile home

Libretto

I'd been reading great things about Pizzeria Libretto for a while, and I'm pretty much always in the mood for a good pizza, so when I found out my host hadn't been yet and was intrigued (if highly skeptical), it seemed like a natural.

Man, has Ossington ever changed. I remember staying out there with friends in the mid-1990s and things were pretty quiet--mostly just the odd Portuguese and Vietnamese establishments and a bunch of garages. Well, those days are gone. Ossington is lined with hip bars, restaurants, and boutiques, it's a full-on mob scene on Saturday nights (of course, the fact that it was NXNE at the time probably contributed to the mayhem), and the garage that sat next door to where my friends used to live is now some kind of post-industrial nightclub. Pizzeria Libretto is equally emblematic of the new Ossington. It's young, it's happening, it's packed to the gills, and house music throbs throughout the premises. There was a healthy line-up when we got there, but we were a party of two, so 45 minutes later (after we'd slipped out to kill a couple of beers at The Communist's Daughter, a great little neighborhood watering hole) we were seated at one of their communal tables, menus in hand.

It's not 100% clear that the crowd is there for the pizza or for the ideology*--it seemed to me like the clientele was more scenester than pizza connoisseur--but that's too bad because Libretto's pizzas really are great.

fig. d: the people have spoken 1

They've got a lovely crust, they're perfectly baked and blistered, and their toppings are well balanced and of premium quality. We both loved the House-made fennel sausage with caramelized onions and Ontario fior di latte, but the prize-winner might very well have been the basic Marinara D.O.P. with a bright San Marzano sauce, garlic, oregano, and a few basil leaves. That was certainly the one K. liked the most.

Think local, eat Universal

fig. e: Universal Oriental

The next evening I found myself attending Saloon Sundays (so called because they have a BYOB policy in effect on Sundays with no corkage fees to boot) at Universal Grill, a friendly, low-key neighborhood joint that's situated in a beautiful old diner space, one that dates back to the first half of the 20th century. M. ran (nay, speed-walked) back to her place to pick up a bottle from her cellar so that we could take full advantage of the free corkage, and we sank our teeth into Universal's tasty assortment of comfort food classics and neo-classics (crab cakes, jerk chicken, blackened snapper, finger-lickin' dry baby back ribs, and Key Lime pie).

Manic

Some of you may recall that Michelle once had the following to say about Manic Coffee: "The best coffee ever! The best! Ever!" Well, I wasn't about to pass that up, so I went and had a Manic macchiato.

fig. f: Manic macchiato

"The best coffee ever!" is a helluva claim, but after sampling the goods, I could understand Michelle's fervor. Later that night, 12 hours after what turned into an afternoon threepeat, I could still understand understand Michelle's fervor.

Enter Sandman

One afternoon I found myself wandering around Chinatown,

fig. g: since 1943

admiring the contrasts,

fig. h: since 1961

when I suddenly felt the lure of Kensington Market. Actually, more than anything, I was jonesing for another coffee and I remembered that I'd once had a pretty fine brew at Ideal Coffee. So there I was, heading down Nassau towards Ideal, when who should I run into but our good friend Sandy.

He invited me into his pad to hang out for a while, and while we got caught up, I sat there and admired the collection of wall-mounted pizza crusts he had on display in his well-appointed kitchen.

fig. i: better homes & kitchens

Then I picked poor Sandy's brain about local food & beverage finds. There are at least 2.7 million stories in Hogtown, and Sandy didn't want to overwhelm me, so he limited himself to two choice tips.

Dark Horse

Sandy mentioned that the crowd at Dark Horse might be interesting because of the fact that it's located in the Robertson Building, an historic Spadina Avenue building whose current mantra is "innovation, sustainability, community," and whose premises are something of a hub for Toronto's arts, design, and progressive politics communities. I didn't notice anything special about Dark Horse's patrons, but I did notice the Robertson Building's impressive Biowall,

fig. j: better buildings & gardens

and it was hard not to miss their gleaming white espresso machine.

fig. k: white heat

Even better: they knew how to use it.

fig. l: Dark Horse macchiato

Another day, another fine macchiato. Although, this time, fearing another night of involuntary jitterbugging, I limited myself to just one.

Mother's

Mother's Dumplings is a 21st-Century Chinatown classic, Sandy told me, a small, underground establishment that's used the power of the handmade dumpling to build a fanatical following since they opened their doors in 2005.

fig. m: The Shadow knows

Just one taste of my first pork & chives steamed dumpling was all it took for me to join their ranks.

fig. n: the people have spoken 2

A real handmade dumpling can those of us who love them a little crazy, and Mother's Dumplings' walls were testament to this particularly pleasurable affliction.

AGO

With all the buzz surrounding the newly Gehry-fied Art Gallery of Ontario, I had to go and take a look, but Frankly it wasn't the new entrance, the glass & wood facade, the sculptural staircase, or south wing that impressed me,

fig. o: self-portrait

it was the elevators.

Balm on Gilead

Years ago now, Michelle and I had a superlative meal at Jamie Kennedy Wine Bar that we wrote about in some detail in these very pages. When someone suggested that I visit Jamie Kennedy's Gilead Café, his café-cum-production kitchen in Corktown, I was only too happy to comply.

I loved the look of the place from the moment we entered.

fig. p: someone's been canning

I loved the atmosphere too. The counter staff was warm and knowledgeable, the setting had that no-nonsense vibe you get when you're in close proximity to a working kitchen. It was hot out that day, and just outside there was a loud, dusty construction site, but inside, things at Gilead Café were calm and welcoming, and I instantly felt at home.

fig. q: JK burger

Gilead Café's menu is all about the comfort food, but here the comfort comes not only from familiar favorites, but from the flavors of the very best locally grown produce, locally raised meats, and locally produced artisanal cheeses. Take their house hamburger: the beef is pasture-fed, the cheese is Ontario artisanal, the greens are local and organic, and the mayonnaise, the ketchup, and the bun are all homemade. In other words, this ain't your typical diner burger, but more importantly it tastes just as divine as a real burger ought to.

K. took the pulled pork sandwich, and while it came with the kind of thick, tomato-based sauce that is less to my liking, the pork itself had been masterfully smoked in the big rig they have out back.

fig. r: JK desserts

Dessert was great too: a homey coconut bar, an organic Ontario apple (the best one I'd had in about 8 months), and another excellent macchiato.

Plus, how many cafés can you think of where you can pick up a 2.5-kg bag of organic, stone-ground Red Fife flour for the road?

Libretto, 221 Ossington, (416) 532-8000, www.pizzerialibretto.com

The Communist's Daughter, 1149 Dundas St W, (647) 435-0103

Universal Grill, 1071 Shaw Street, (416) 588-5928, www.universalgrill.ca

Manic Coffee, 426 College Street, (416) 966-3888, www.maniccoffee.com

Dark Horse Espresso Bar, 215 Spadina Avenue, (416) 979-1200

Mother's Dumplings, 79 Huron Street, (416) 217-2008, www.mothersdumplings.com

Art Gallery of Ontario, 317 Dundas Street W., (416) 979 6648, www.ago.net

Gilead Café, 4 Gilead Place, (647) 288 0680, www.gileadcafe.ca

aj

* In this regard, as well as others, Pizzeria Libretto appears to have been inspired by NYC's Una Pizzeria Napoletana (who can blame them?), although UPN's pizza manifesto is an outright smackdown by comparison.

on the market 1

a continuing series on finds to be found in Montreal's markets...

fig. a: bajhis!

hot bhajis!

Devotees of Jean-Talon Market most likely already know this, but, after a lengthy hiatus La Dépense's delectable vegetable bhajis are back and, we're happy to report, better than ever. They're no longer sold out in front of the store--now you have head to the back of the store to get them--but they have a small, well-appointed kitchen that's dedicated entirely to the production of fresh bhajis, and they're just as good a deal as ever ($3 per order). And, never afraid to innovate, La Dépense has introduced their own currency to commemorate the return of the bhaji as well as to help facilitate their acquisition: Bhaji Bucks.

fig. b: bahjis!

How does the system work? It's as simple as 1-2-3: 1 ) You pay for your order/s at the front counter. 2) You get issued your very own Bhaji Buck/s. 3) You take your Bhaji Buck/s to the back of the store and hand it in to receive your order/s.

La Dépense, Aisle 4, Jean-Talon Market, 7070 rue Henri-Julien, (514) 273-1118, www.epicesdecru.com

fig. c: fresh Quebec chèvre

fresh chèvre!

Just across the aisle from La Dépense, you can find a stand called Chèvrerie de Buckland that offers a selection of particularly fine goat's milk cheeses. Their own line includes le Maréchal, an excellent firm, Tomme-style cheese, but our current favorite is the funny-looking specimen you see above, an ultra-mild, ultra-creamy fresh chèvre from Ferme Cassis et Mélisse in Saint-Damien-de-Buckland* that goes particularly well with fresh Quebec strawberries.

Chèvrerie de Buckland, Jean-Talon Market, Kiosk 116, (418) 789-2760, mbruneau@globetrotter.net

aj

* I've said it before and I'll say it again: roughly 50 years since the Quiet Revolution, living in Quebec continues to be an education in Catholicism (especially when it comes to the names of obscure Catholic saints).

WWDD

He might very well grill halibut, that's what.

I was leafing my way through David Tanis's A Platter of Figs and Other Recipes the other day once again, reading up on what he has to say about grilling, when I came across his recipe for Grilled Halibut With Indian Spices.

fig. a: leafing through

I'd admired the recipe before, but this time it really clicked. I was in the mood to fire up the barbecue (once again), I was craving seafood, and, hell, I'm always in the mood for "Indian spices." Plus, I'd invited my Mom over for a barbecued meal, and I thought this one might keep her on her toes. Michelle had to work (again), but I asked her if she thought she might like a grilled halibut fillet when she came back home from work that night, and she said, "Uh, yeah, sure." Little did she know what was in store for her.

Grilled Halibut with Indian Spices

1 tsp cumin seeds
1 tsp coriander seeds
1 tsp fennel seeds
3 cloves
1/2 tbsp ground turmeric
1/4 tsp cayenne
4 halibut fillets, about 6-8 ounces each
salt and pepper
1 tbsp olive oil
15-20 cherry tomatoes, halved
yogurt sauce (recipe follows)
a small handful of mint leaves

Toast the cumin, coriander, fennel, and cloves in a dry cast-iron pan over medium heat until fragrant, about 2 minutes. Transfer to a spice grinder or mortar and grind until fine. Put the ground spices in a small bowl, add the turmeric and cayenne, and mix until well blended.

Lay the halibut fillets on a baking sheet and season liberally with salt and pepper. Drizzle with olive oil. Sprinkle the spice mixture over the fish, and, using your hands, massage it in. Cover and refrigerate the fillets for up to several hours (although 2 hours worked just fine). Bring the fish to room temperature before cooking, about half an hour.

Prepare a fire in a charcoal barbecue. Grill the halibut over medium coals 3-4 minutes per side, until just opaque throughout.

Arrange the halibut on a large platter and surround with the cherry tomatoes. Sprinkle the tomatoes lightly with salt. Spoon a little yogurt sauce onto each portion and pass the rest at the table. Sliver the mint leaves with a sharp knife and scatter over the plate.

serves 4

Raita is a natural with these grilled halibut fillets. Tanis's raita is a little on the new-fangled side (e.g. olive oil), but don't knock it till you try it. The grated ginger is a particularly inspired touch.

David's Raita

1 1/2 cups whole-milk yogurt
1/2 tbsp olive oil
1 tsp mustard seeds
1 tsp cumin seeds
2 garlic cloves, finely chopped
1 tsp finely grated ginger
1/2 serrano pepper, finely chopped
salt and pepper

Put the yogurt in a bowl. In a small frying pan, heat the olive oil over a medium flame. Add the mustard and cumin seeds. When the seeds begin to pop, add the garlic and let it sizzle briefly, making sure it doesn't brown, about 10 seconds or so.

Scrape the contents of the pan into the yogurt. Stir in the ginger and chile. Season the sauce with salt and pepper. The sauce will keep in the fridge for a day or two, but it tastes best freshly made, and once you've tasted it, you'll have a hard time keeping it around for a day or two.

fig. b: yellow medley

These recipes come from a menu Tanis calls "yellow hunger," and, as this name suggests, it's meant to be a composition in shades of yellow, with the halibut a vibrant yellow-orange. Sweet yellow tomatoes (cherry or not) haven't appeared on the scene here in Montreal yet (at least not local ones), so we recommend going the sweetest red cherry tomatoes you can find. Tanis accompanies his halibut with a gorgeous salad of shaved summer squashes and squash blossoms, but they too have not yet arrived. So I broke up the yellow theme a bit by grilling some fennel, and roasting some potatoes using the Zuni Cafe method (I did use Yukon golds as my potatoes, though). The medley of yellow idea is a nice one, but Tanis encourages his readers not to be slavish:

This is a book of recipes and menus, but I hope what it is, too, is a book about cooking by instinct--improvisational, the sort of cooking that doesn't need a recipe.

Free your mind and your food will follow, or something to that effect.

All I know is that halibut has rarely tasted this good and that the meal was a huge hit. You should have seen the look on Michelle's face when she sat down to the spread before her.

aj

ChangesTwo

Meanwhile, back at the ranch...

fig. a: smoke gets in my lens

Ever since May, when we finally made the switch back to charcoal grilling after years of working a gas bbq, I've been like a kid with a new toy. The toy in question, is just a classic 18.5" Weber One-Touch, but the charm has yet to wear off, and with Michelle working crazy hours, I've had a whole lot of time to carry out a lot of experiments in lump-coal burning, slow & low barbecuing.

I pity the birds that happened to build their nest just a few feet above our barbecue spot. They got seriously smoked out--over and over and over again. (At least, the smoke in question was fragrant applewood, hickory, and mesquite.) I kinda pity our neighbors, too. They weren't getting blasted with smoke the way those birds were, but the sweet, sweet smell of all that applewood-, hickory-, and mesquite-smoked meat must have been torture.

How much grilling are we talking about? Jerk pork, jerk chicken, jerk shrimp. Pulled pork, ribs, and smoked chicken. Steaks and kebabs of all sorts. Salmon steaks and halibut fillets. Fennel, eggplant, bell peppers, potatoes, mushrooms, and tomatoes.

One of the best of our recent grillfests was a night where we made a Cowboy Rib Eye recipe by Dallas chef Stephan Pyles that we'd found in Saveur (it wasn't difficult, the recipe was featured prominently on the front cover).

We followed Saveur's recipe closely, although we replaced the ground chipotle with ground Oaxacan (smoked) pasilla chile (because that's what we had on-hand), we started the entire process just a few hours before we started grilling instead of a day earlier, and we made it for two instead of four. We didn't change anything about Pyles' accompanying onion rings, though. We figured there was no sense with frying up half an onion's worth of onion rings, and that if there were any leftovers, we could refry them the next day.

fig. b: in the raw

Texas-Style Steak with Spicy Onion Rings

1/8 cup plus 1/2 tsp sweet paprika
1 1/2 tbsp kosher salt
3/4 tbsp ground guajillo chile
3/4 tbsp ground pasilla chile
3/4 tbsp ground chipotle (or smoked pasilla chile)
3/4 tbsp sugar
2 x 16-oz bone-in rib-eye steaks
Canola oil, for frying
1 small yellow onion, cut crosswise
into 1/8"-thick rings
1 cup milk
1 1/2 cups flour
1 tbsp chili powder
1 tsp cayenne pepper
1/2 tsp ground cumin
1/4 tsp ground black pepper

In a medium bowl, whisk together 1/8 cup of the paprika, 1 tbsp of the salt, the guajillo, pasilla, and chipotle chiles, and the sugar. Put steaks on a parchment-lined baking sheet; rub with the chile mixture. Refrigerate steaks for several hours or overnight.

Make the onion rings: Pour oil into a 4-qt. saucepan to a depth of 2"; heat over medium-high heat until a deep-fry thermometer reads 350°. Meanwhile, put the onions and milk into a bowl; let them soak for 20 minutes. In a large bowl, whisk together the remaining paprika and salt, flour, chili powder, cayenne, cumin, and pepper. Working in batches, remove the onions from the milk, shake off the excess, and toss them in seasoned flour. Fry the onions until crisp, about 3 minutes. Drain on paper towels; season with salt. Set aside and try not to devour them before the steaks are done.

Build a medium-hot fire with mesquite charcoal or lump charcoal + pre-soaked (minimum 1/2 hour) mesquite chips. Grill steaks, turning once, until medium rare, about 12 minutes. Serve with the onion rings.

Serves two hungry souls.

This makes an utterly stupendous steak, and the mesquite really brings out all its Tex-Mex/cowboy qualities. The onion rings are outstanding too. As much as I love a great beer-battered onion ring, these were way simpler and spicier, and just as satisfying.

Now, never wanting to waste a good charcoal fire, I had the idea the bright idea of cooking a rack of ribs while the steak was chilling in the fridge. We made an old standby of a recipe, but this was the very first time we'd cooked them on the grill from start to finish. It was also the first time we'd cooked them over mesquite. What took us so long? Who knows? These new, improved ribs were thoroughly mind-blowing. We had them as our "appetizer." Absurd, I know. We made a bunch of vegetables in addition to the onion rings, but, sadly, they've since disappeared into a smoky haze.

One last thing: the Texas-Style Steak rub makes for a great Texas-Style Barbecued Chicken rub too (as I found out about a week later).

"Texas-Style" Barbecued Chicken

1 whole chicken
Texas-style steak rub
2-4 garlic cloves
room-temperature beer
cider vinegar
crushed red chile flakes

Rinse and pat dry a whole chicken. Add a bit of olive oil, rub it all over with that chile-based rub, add a couple of unpeeled garlic cloves to the cavity, and let it sit, covered, in your refrigerator for at least a couple of hours and preferably an entire day or overnight. Take your bird out of the fridge and let it come to room temperature. Meanwhile, start your fire, setting your barbecue up for some indirect cooking (coals and/or mesquite wood to one side, water-filled drip pan to the other, vent overtop the drip pan). You want a medium fire for your chicken. You can also make your mop now, mixing equal parts warm beer and cider vinegar, and adding salt and crushed red chile peppers to taste. When the coals are ready, place the chicken (breast-side up) on the grill over the drip pan, and close the lid, keeping the barbecue fully vented. Smoke the chicken for 2 1/2 - 3 hours, without ever moving the bird if at all possible, just adding some coals/wood from time to time to keep the fire at a relatively consistent temperature. Resist the temptation to check the fire for the first hour. After an hour, check your fire every 30 minutes, taking the opportunity to mop the bird each time. The bird is done when a knife poked into a thigh produces juices that run clear. If you want to be more accurate, use a meat thermometer to check for doneness. But be patient--a medium-small chicken will take a good 2 1/2 hours. It's worth it, though. The first time you make it, you might have your doubts (in spite of your mopping, the skin will look leathery and dry), but this makes for one fantastically flavorful fowl (juicy too!), and any leftovers can be transformed into a chicken salad that is simply heavenly.

Note: again, I highly recommend the use of mesquite for this dish. Its mineral smoke marries particularly well with this rub.

Okay, people--get your grill on.

aj

ChangesOne, rev. ed.

fig. a: wry smile

Why the wry smile?

First there was pastry school. Then there was Les Chèvres & Le Chou. Then there was Laloux. And now there's, well, Laloux.

There were also some important stages and a whole lot of silly blog business along the way, but for years now Michelle was always careful to correct people when they referred to her as a "pastry chef." "Pastry assistant," she'd tell them.

Until now, that is. You see, for about a month now, Michelle has actually been a full-fledged pastry chef. Her longtime chef and mentor, Patrice Demers, decided to pursue an opportunity across town, and suddenly, and quite unexpectedly, Michelle found herself promoted to head pastry chef. It's been a hectic few weeks, with her fair share of twelve-hour days, but Michelle's happy to report that things are going very well, indeed, her new desserts have been a hit, and an entirely new slate of desserts is just weeks away. Meanwhile, the savoury side of the kitchen also has a new chef: Eric "Cube" Gonzalez. And Pop!, Laloux's bar à vin has enlisted the formidable talents of James MacGuire as creative director. Talk about a Dream Team.







fig. b: rhubarb special


Michelle's menu:

far breton with candied walnuts and Armagnac ice cream

buttermilk panna cotta with rhubarb soup, rosemary flowers, ginger shortcakes, and rhubarb compote

orange spice cake with dark chocolate cremeux, caramelized hazelnuts, candied orange, and hazelnut mayonnaise

and, as of today,

pain de Gênes, kirsch-soaked cherries, chamomile cream, almond granita, and cherry sorbet

But, look out! Summer fruits are just beginning (hence her new cherry dessert), and Michelle's got big plans!!

As per usual, Laloux's desserts are available both at Laloux and at Pop!, the bar à vin next door.

aj