Dorie Greenspan

How Do You Make A Masterpiece? Point Reyes II

by Anne Maxfield on October 17, 2011

Accidental Locavore Point Reyes II

When humans want to make an offspring, it’s pretty simple; egg, sperm, nine month incubation. The Accidental Locavore was wondering while tasting the second piece of the new masterpiece from Point Reyes Farmstead, how exactly do you design a cheese? What’s the jumping-off point? Does it start with a cow, goat or sheep, or all of the above? Do you just have a flavor profile in your head and work towards making that real?

Once you have a starting point, how do you maneuver such fickle ingredients as milk, mold, temperature and time? In cooking, when you have an idea, you assemble ingredients, cook them and see how the results are to your vision… generally not too time consuming. If you screw up, it’s time for a quick re-do, or a call for Chinese delivery. With cheesemaking, I imagine there’s a lot less instant gratification. So, do you have several versions at various stages of aging? What about the variables in the milk? And how good is the local Chinese?

All this was bouncing through my brain as the Locavore was on my second day of tasting (what I’m calling PR II). My initial impressions: thank goodness it’s a bigger chunk (more to nibble on-get it?)! Seems to have less veining than the first sample, although the color seems similar.

The smell of it is making me crazy, a little pungent, yeasty and haunting, so I ate a sliver even though it’s still a little cool. Thanks to Dorie Accidental Locavore PRIIGreenspan, I’m conscious about how I cut it now; however, as Julia would say “if you’re alone in the kitchen…who’s going to know?” And anyway, it’s an American cheese, so does cheese protocol have to be followed as closely? It’s got a nice, yeasty scent that lingers. PR II seems to have been aged a little longer than the first piece, with a thicker, more pronounced rind. It’s a little salty and not quite as caramel-flavored as I remember the first piece being. It doesn’t have the little crunchy bits like the first sample, but since I can’t tell, I’ll just have to slink back into the kitchen and have another piece…

PR II: Day Two

Being just a little more patient, the Accidental Locavore let it get to room temperature before cutting thin wedges. The rind still tastes a little of ammonia and I’m more conscious of eating the rind. PR II seems stylistically to tread more familiar ground than the previous one. I miss the wonderful creamy, caramel paste with the little flacks of crunch. Maybe it wasn’t aged as long, so it’s missing the crystallization? There was also a slightly smoky taste in the first piece that isn’t present in this one.

Whichever way Point Reyes decides to go with this cheese, they’ve gotten really close to their goal of a masterpiece. You won’t be disappointed with the final product, actually you’ll be almost as happy as I was to be a part of this very cool adventure.

And if there are any other cheesemakers out there looking for a (now experienced) cheesetaster…Bring it on!

The name of this masterpiece? How about Second Coming?

 

 

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The Attack of the 5 Pound Cookbooks

by Anne Maxfield on October 10, 2011

Accidental Locavore 5 Pound Cookbooks

Maybe, like the Accidental Locavore, you have a copy of Julia Child’s The Way to Cook. Possibly, when you got it, you marveled at the size and heft of it (5.4 lbs). Well, like the average American waistline, the average American, French, or Moroccan cookbook is quickly expanding.

I was at the Beard House again this week, listening to Paula Wolfort reading from her new book, The Food of Morocco (4.6 lbs) and quickly decided I needed to add it to the collection. Later that day, it ended up on the coffee table with Dorrie Greenspan’s Around My French Table (5 lbs), The Way to Cook and Michael Ruhlman’s Charcuterie (2 lbs, but his new book is almost twice that). Since the Locavore has always thought The Way to Cook was a massive book, I was surprised to see that they were all about the same size and weight.

Now, I don’t know about you, but the Accidental Locavore is very conflicted about cookbooks on e-readers. I use my iPad a lot in the kitchen, so putting cookbooks on it would make sense, but there are a couple of drawbacks to it. First of all, I hate the idea of paying for books twice. I’ve always wished you could pay a (small) surcharge and access recipes through a smartphone so you could access recipes when you need inspiration in the market. Secondly, there’s the mess factor. It’s one thing to drip on a cookbook and most people proudly point to the much- stained pages of favorite recipes, but dripping on an iPad can be an expensive mistake. Finally and least importantly there’s no place to sign an e-reader…

On the plus side, my iPad is much smaller and lighter (1.33 lbs), can hold all of these monsters without gaining an ounce (boy, wouldn’t that be a great quality in people?) and they can be used anywhere, at any time.  However, while you can just open a book on a counter and it’s always there to consult, the iPad (to save battery life) only stays on for a couple of minutes and then has to have sticky fingers slide it on and punch in a password. Kind of a pain when you just want to double-check something.

So what I do is switch back and forth. Some stuff is on my iPad and some stuff is in books. With the books, I’m limited to the ones I have with me, but I can make a mess and not worry. Electronically, there is no limit but a degree of caution (and a fairly clean finger) has to be maintained. What do you do? Are you committed to one format over another? Or do you switch between paper and microchips? And what’s wrong with a slim (well-edited) volume?

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What Color is Your Recipe? French Onion Soup Recipe

by Anne Maxfield on September 26, 2011

Accidental Locavore Onion SoupThe Accidental Locavore was standing over a pot of onions for French onion soup when something Dorie Greenspan said last week struck me. She said that when you’re writing a recipe, it’s important to give instructions as to what the dish should look like, as well as the time involved. For the onion soup, Julia Child says the onions should cook for 25-30 minutes and be “a dark walnut color”. So I’m stirring my onions, watching as they go from off-white to light brown and then to walnut, a process that does end up taking 30 minutes. Here’s the recipe for 4 servings:

  • 1/2 stick unsalted butter
  • 1 tablespoon olive oil
  • 8 cups thinly sliced onions (about 2-1/2 pounds, I used 2 large white ones, two medium yellow and a large red one, just for variety)
  • 1/2 teaspoon salt
  • 1/2 teaspoon sugar (this will help caramelize the onions)
  • 1 tablespoon flour
  • 8 cups homemade beef stock, or good quality store bought stock (check the label, a lot of them are “beef flavored stock”) 2 cups of it need to be heated (3 minutes in the microwave)
  • 1/4 cup Cognac
  • 1 cup dry white wine
  • 1 sprig fresh thyme (optional)
  • 8 (1/2-inch) thick slices of French bread, toasted
  • 3/4 pound coarsely grated Gruyere

Heat a heavy saucepan over moderate heat with the butter and oil. When the butter has melted, stir in the onions, cover and cook slowly until tender and translucent, about 10 minutes. Blend in the salt and sugar, increase the heat to medium-high and let the onions brown, stirring frequently (so they don’t burn) until they are a dark walnut color, 25 to 30 minutes.

Sprinkle the flour and cook slowly, stirring, for another 3 to 4 minutes. Remove from heat, let cool a moment, then whisk in 2 cups of hot stock. When well blended, bring to the simmer, adding the rest of the stock, Cognac and wine. Cover loosely and simmer very slowly 1 1/2 hours, adding a little water if the liquid reduces too much. Taste for seasoning

Divide the soup among 4 ovenproof bowls. Arrange toast on top of soup and sprinkle generously with grated cheese. Place bowls on a cookie sheet and place under a preheated broiler until cheese melts and forms a crust over the tops of the bowls. If you don’t have ovenproof bowls you could layer a cookie sheet with parchment or a Silpat, put the toasted bread topped with the cheese on it and place it under the broiler until browned and bubbly. Then remove and top the bowls of soup with the bread and cheese. Serve immediately and enjoy!

Accidental Locavore Sauteed OnionsMy verdict: Great! Exactly what I was craving. Rich stock, good onion flavor, will definitely take the time to make this again (but maybe double the recipe and freeze half). I would have liked a better baguette, better Gruyere and a hotter broiler, but those can easily be fixed. Having the proper bowls helped (thanks Mom!). And fresh greens from Farmer Paul made a great simple side salad with a classic vinaigrette.

 

 

 

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Who Knew Cheese Could be a Minefield? Wednesday With Dorie

by Anne Maxfield on September 23, 2011

Accidental Locavore Dorie at James Beard

OK, true confession time: Dorie Greenspan has the life the Accidental Locavore aspires to. It would be easy to be jealous, however she is so delightful that it simply goes away. At a recent lunchtime book talk at the James Beard House, she charmed everyone with her tales of falling in love with France.

If you’ve never been to France, or are one of the few (misguided) people who supported “freedom fries” you can stop reading now. For the rest of you, here’s how the Locavore spent a very pleasant hour.

Dorie Greenspan is known for the many cookbooks she’s written, mostly about baking. Her latest, Around my French Table, is the first book to focus on how she fed her family and friends in Paris. It’s a huge book, beautifully photographed, with lots of interesting stories about her life there, and great recipes.

She spent most of the time talking about eating cheese in France, one of the Accidental Locavore’s most favorite things to do there. Dorie describes the cheese course as being a “minefield”. Turns out there is plenty of room for grievous etiquette faux pas, but hey, we’re Americans, so we’re excused (sort of).

First of all, when you’re dining in a French home, as here, it’s fine and appreciated, to ask for seconds. As my mother always said “flatter the cook…” However, we learned you should never ask for seconds on cheese. Why? Because it wasn’t made at home (don’t ask me why cheese is singled out and not bread or wine).

Secondly, you have to be very careful about how you cut the cheese when it’s passed to you. You are never to cut off the point of a cheese (the good part). The idea is to cut it so it’s exactly the same shape as it was when you got it, just a little smaller. Turns out the French are so particular about how their cheese is cut, there’s a book, L’Art de Couper le Fromage, and several websites. And if you want to get invited back to Dorie’s, you’ll be like one of her friends, and carefully sculpt any misaligned cheeses back in place.Accidental Locavore Dorie Greenspan

Then, if you’re not totally traumatized by all that, there’s the order in which you actually eat the fromage. When you go to a restaurant in France, they usually arrange the cheese in the order you’re to eat it in, clockwise, starting with the mildest, usually a goat cheese at 12:00 and ending with the strongest, normally a blue at 11:00 (depending on how many there are). My mother thought this was terribly pretentious, but if you think about it, it makes sense, like drinking white wines before you switch to reds.  I always start out like that, then bounce back and forth between the cheeses I really like.

Dorie Greenspan admits to only eating certain cheeses in the privacy of her home. When asked, she wouldn’t fess up to which ones they were, but my money would be on something like an oozing Vacherin-Mont d’Or.  The Accidental Locavore has never really met a piece of cheese she wouldn’t eat in public.  Is there a secret cheese you only eat when you’re home alone?

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