Avocado and salmon domes

Hmmm, it is well past Mother's day, the VISA bill came (Mother's Day + Whole Foods = Ouch) and I still haven't posted my coulibiac that I made for dinner. And it’s a damn shame because I know how everyone is always looking for another coulibiac recipe.

Speaking of too much of something, celebrity chefs get pretty tiring: Emerilware, Alton Brown's knives, Rachel Ray's plates, or what-have-you--it all gets pretty tiring. But the New York Times column "The Chef" has had many illuminating insights into how diverse chefs' minds work. Sometimes the emphasis is on creativity, others on technique, personal history, or unique ingredients.

Several years ago, Jack Bishop wrote this one with Wylie Dufresne, the chef of 71 Clinton Fresh Food in Manhattan.

This dish is somewhat mysterious when it comes to the table. A small dome of avocado scored with fine ridges, it looks almost like a small green sea creature or the model for a Frank Gehry building. There's no hint of what's contained within: a mound of bright pink fish cut into tiny cubes. But the dish has more than just a visual surprise and preppy colors going for it. The flavors are thoroughly unconventional, yet in perfect harmony.

And when the Copper River Salmon season opened, I thought this dish would be a great way to showcase the wonderful flavors of this fish (and the small portions would still be affordable).

It is a play on the ubiquitous tuna tartare and sushi. But it goes beyond the subtle textures and taste of sushi. The unctuous richness of the salmon and avocado is balanced by tart citrus, heat, and an unexpected crunch from diced pickles and sea salt.

Chives add that flavor that so uniquely pleases me with Japanese food, and always gives me pause as to why I don’t use them more often. Dufresne makes his own pickles, and suggests the pickled daikon radishes sold in Asian markets, but we went with the cornichons in the fridge, since I have never been able to stand the small of pickled daikon. I picked up kilos of fleur de sel in Paris a few years back as gifts for a friend who left me stranded at the airport (I kept the salt and ditched the friend.), so I prefer that and liberally sprinkle it around the mounds right before serving. Although he says any course salt will do, I would only stick with the airiest possible.

Because of his allergies Dale wasn’t too keen on the idea of horseradish, but he loved the fresh horseradish sauce so much that it has popped up at dinner at least once a week. (His brined pork chops with horseradish oil was very weeknight satisfying.)
As Dufresne says ‘The floral, spicy flavor of fresh horseradish brings all the elements on the plate together. It's worth spending five extra minutes to make the sauce.”

Marinated Salmon with Avocado (Adapted from Wylie Dufresne)
Time: 45 minutes
12 ounces salmon fillet with skin, pin bones and gray area removed (about 8 ounces when trimmed)
4 teaspoons minced fresh chives
4 teaspoons minced pickled radish or cornichons
2 teaspoons lime juice
2 teaspoons extra virgin olive oil
Table salt to taste
1/4 teaspoon Tabasco sauce, or to taste (I don’t care for Tabasco and prefer cayenne pepper)
2 medium ripe Haas avocados
Cracked black pepper to taste
Flaked or coarse sea salt for garnish
6 tablespoons creamy horseradish oil (see recipe below).

1. With a very sharp knife, cut salmon into thin slices, then chop it to the texture of coarsely ground meat. Place in bowl. Stir in chives, radish, lime juice, olive oil, table salt and Tabasco. Taste, and adjust seasonings.
2. Working with one avocado at a time, cut in half lengthwise. Twist to separate into 2 halves. Remove and discard pit. Cut off and discard 1/2 inch from top of each half. Carefully peel away and discard skin, trying not to gouge flesh with fingertips. Place halves pit side down. With tip of sharp knife, slice each half lengthwise as thin as possible, holding sides of avocado as you work so it keeps its shape. You should be able to cut each half into at least 12 slices.
3. Lay 18-by-12-inch sheet of plastic wrap flat on work surface. Slide side of knife under sliced avocado half. Transfer sliced avocado to plastic, turning pit side up. Press lightly with open hand to fan slices slightly. Season with table salt and pepper.
4. Spoon a quarter of the salmon mixture over center of avocado half. Lift opposite corners of wrap over fish, and repeat with 2 remaining corners. Grasp all 4 corners of wrap in one hand; with other, grasp avocado, and flip, twisting and pulling on corners of wrap to tighten it around underside of avocado. Twist avocado several times, pinching plastic tight under avocado and pushing avocado slices into original shape. Repeat with remaining avocado halves and salmon, forming each in its own piece of plastic. (Can be refrigerated 1 hour.)
5. Lay wrapped avocado on side, and slice off twisted portion of wrap just below avocado. Turn avocado with salmon filling facing up. Gently peel back wrap. Place small plate over avocado, and flip avocado onto plate so green side faces up. Repeat with other avocado halves. Sprinkle lightly with coarse salt. Drizzle horseradish oil around edges of plates, and serve immediately.
Yield: 4 first-course servings.

Creamy Horseradish Oil Adapted from Wylie Dufresne
Time: 5 minutes
3 ounces fresh horseradish, peeled and cut into chunks
1/2 teaspoon rice vinegar
Pinch salt
1/2 cup grape seed oil or other neutral oil.
1. Place horseradish, vinegar and salt in food processor, and grind, stopping to scrape down sides of bowl several times, until horseradish is quite fine, 1 to 2 minutes.
2. With processor motor running, add oil through feed tube in steady stream, and process just until mixture forms a creamy emulsion, about 1 minute. (Once mixture has sauce consistency, stop adding oil.) Adjust seasonings. Horseradish oil can be refrigerated in an airtight container for several days. Shake or whisk before using.
Yield: about 3/4 cup.
Note: You will need only about half this sauce for the marinated salmon wrapped in avocado. The rest can be served with grilled fish, steak or cold asparagus, or used on roast beef or lamb sandwiches.


The article continues with suggestions for variations:

-- Avocado and seafood have a natural affinity, and you can use this presentation technique with any number of fillings. The method remains the same: Prepare the seafood filling, slice the avocado, and stuff and shape individual portions. Here are a few suggestions:
Tuna tartare: To preserve the bright red color of fresh tuna, eliminate the lime juice, which would turn the fish white. Tuna is not as fatty as salmon, so the pickled radish will supply enough bite.
-- Scallop ceviche: Chop top-quality sea scallops a bit more coarsely than the salmon to give them a rougher texture. Marinate the chopped scallops in a little lemon juice, olive oil, minced red onion or shallot, salt and fresh herbs for about an hour. The slight firming caused by the acid makes the scallops a toothsome contrast to the creamy avocado. For an Asian flavor, cut down on the salt and add a splash of soy sauce.
-- Poached shrimp: Chop and lightly dress the shrimp. (I like the fruity flavor of an orange vinaigrette.) Add scallions and herbs to round out the filling.
-- Crab: Make a light salad of peekytoe or Jonah crabmeat. But don't use mayonnaise -- it will be too rich with the avocado. Instead, toss the crabmeat with a mustard vinaigrette, diced seeded tomatoes, shallots and fresh herbs.

Putting the MEAL back into Oatmeal

When I see some coworkers preparing their breakfast in the office by adding hot (tepid) water to a package of instant oats, my heart grows heavy. Sure, I smell the oatmeal with its dehydrated apples and stale cinnamon that Mom served us kids, and it brings back fond memories of easier mornings and good times.

But remember how much sugar and butter you had to put on to keep the oatmeal from being just a tasteless bowl of pasty matter? Or how the paste would gellify into a glob that would fall out of your bowl intact?

Well, I was turned on to steel cut oats (aka pinhead oats, Irish oats, Scotch oats) in '92. The directions on the over-priced can were involved, but the cereal was better in taste and texture. Still it wasn't enough to justify the labor. Then I stumbled upon toasting the grains first, and my oatmeal world was never the same.

Toasting, as you would imagine, makes everything taste better. With freshly-toasted oatmeal, flavors of nuts, butterscotch, and, well, the world's best toast all come to the forefront. Toasting also results in the Maillard Reaction, which by bringing out the sweetness of the grain, you don't need to add as much sugar at serving.

According to Cooks Illustrated, the "Scottish dunk each spoonful into a separate bowl of milk or cream." By accident I poured too much milk into my bowl, and I ended up with a milky oatmeal soup, and this, along with a pour of maple syrup or a bit of dark brown sugar and a dash or vanilla, has become my favorite breakfast meal. Clumps of hot nutty oatmeal in a cold milky soup has become a favorite midnight snack, too. In fact, it is so good that on my business trips, I prepare plastic tubs to take along to eat for breakfast. Once you have had these oats, it is impossible to eat the travesty served in most hotels.

Steel-cut oats come in a nifty-looking tin from Ireland, but save your money and head to the bulk section of your grocery or natural food store. In Seattle, which is overpriced for food, they typically run $.55/# and $.99/# (organic). Traditionally a wooden dowel is used to stir the oatmeal. This keeps it from getting too mushy. The back of a spoon works well, if you don't feel like another trip to Home Depot.

Adding the salt in the last ten minutes will make the cereal creamy. Adding it any sooner will make it unpleasantly crunchy (the same is true with rice, which oat groats resemble). Alton Brown cleverly depicted this with Barbie dolls. I'll use celebrities: gums within oatmeal called pentosans (Jennifer Aniston), want to bond with the water (Brad Pitt). But when salt (Angelina Jolie) comes along, the water bonds with the more appealing salt, leaving behind the pentosans in the grain (Hollywood Hills mansion) thus keeping the grain hard and the cereal not as creamy. Molecular gastronomy can be so fun when its brought to the level of People Magazine.


Steel Cut Oatmeal
1 tablespoon butter
1 cup steel cut oats
4 cups water
1/4 teaspoon salt


In a large stainless skillet over medium heat, melt the butter, and just as it foams, add the oats. Stir for 2 minutes to toast. They should be golden and fragrant, filling your kitchen with a wonderful rich scents--you won't get this from a package. Add 3 cups of water and reduce heat to a simmer. Keep at a low simmer for 2o minutes, without stirring. Add salt and stir with a wood dowel or the top of a wooden spoon (I confess, I use a wooden spatula). Add the remaining water and cook for an additional 10 minutes, stirring occasionally. The cereal should be somewhat runny when removed from the heat. Let the cooked oatmeal rest a few minutes for the grains to pull together, then serve with your favorite topping.

Easy Dinner Party Dessert: Ice Cream with Whiskey and Coffee Grounds

Nearly a mind-boggling twenty years ago, my parents came to visit me in Australia, during what I like to refer to as my expatriate period, but what others might refer to as unfocused college years. We went to dinner with my friends to one of Sydney's top-ranked restaurants, Taylors. Decades later, we don’t remember too much from the dinner at Taylors, but my mom will never forget how we deliberated over the extensive and so-tempting desert menu, until my friend Paul--a true gourmand and one of my culinary godparents--told the waiter to just bring all of the desserts. One struck me for its simplicity and perfection. I have made it ever since, especially when time is short, but a dessert is needed to bring the evening to a close. Something sweet to cut the grease as my mom likes to quote my grandpa.

Technically it is a variation of the Italian dessert affogato (“drowned”), but with whiskey instead of espresso; the espresso, in fact, is sprinkled on top as fresh grounds. (At Reed College, we had coffee ground milkshakes, so in a way, it’s a variation of that as well.) It’s as simple as can be but the ingredients have to be the best. Everyone loves it but men in particular appreciate it. I use Makers Mark bourbon, as its sweetness and smokiness compliment the ice cream, but almost any good whiskey could be used.

A French-press grind add a nice crunch as the grounds freeze but you may prefer a cone-filter grind, or even an espresso grind as somepeople find the anything larger than a cone filter grind to be too gritty, almost chewy. The larger grinds also tend to irritate your gums and stick unattractively between the teeth. Do not feel the need to dump on the hooch. A single tablespoon is all that is needed--anymore, and it will be unpleasantly boozey.

Ice Cream with Whiskey and Coffee Grounds
For each serving:
Place two scoops of the very best vanilla ice cream
Drizzle with a tablespoon of Makers Mark Bourbon (1/2 pony shot)
Sprinkle with a teaspoon freshly-ground coffee
Serve.

This also makes a wicked milkshake when you throw it into the blender.

(Note that is based on a whirling blade grinder, which produces an uneven grind, with grains of varying sizes, which is perfect for this dessert.)

Salad Lyonnaise

Poor Dale. Because he is so allergic to mustard and to egg yolk, I have to wait until he isn't around for dinner to enjoy this Salad Lyonnaise, and sometimes I look too forward to having it, i.e., sending out the wrong signals.

This was one of the many wonderful dishes prepared in a Culinary Communion class on poaching. But more on that later.

Salad Lyonnaise would be a great salad to make ahead for a dinner party. All of the ingredients are prepared ahead of time and the only cooking you need to do is to simmer the eggs a minute--poaching is the quietest cooking (See below for details.) Leftover dressing can be placed in a sealed container and will last a week in the fridge.

Salad Lyonnaise Adapted from Culinary Communion
Serves 8

3 large heads frisee, trimmed
1 Tbsp dijon mustard
1/4 cup red wine vinegar
1/2 cup olive oil
Kosher salt and pepper
1/4# bacon, cut into lardoons

8 eggs
2 quarts water
2 Tablespoons white wine vinegar
1 Tablespoon kosher salt

8 slices of baguette, cut on the diagonal
8 slices gruyere cheese, 1/8 thick
1 clove garlic

Preheat the broiler
Render the bacon by heating a large saute pan over medium heat. Saute the bacon until it browns and releases all of its fat. Remove the bacon with tongs or a slotted spoon to a paper-towel lined plate, reserving the fat in the pan.

In a small bowl, place the red wine vinegar and mustard. While whisking constantly, drizzle in the olive oil drop by drop to form an emulsion. When all of the olive oil is in, drizzle in the bacon fat. Adjust seasoning with salt and pepper to taste. Set aside.

Peel and cut the garlic clove in half. Rub each side of bread with it. Lay the bread on a baking sheet and top each piece with a slice of gruyere. Place the pan on the middle shelf, and broil until crisp and golden. (As you can see from my picture, I once again burnt the toast.) Remove and set aside.

Heat the water in a saute pan along with the vinegar and salt. Do NOT use a cast iron pan. See the weird reddish-brown goopy stuff on my egg white? That is due to discoloring from the iron and vinegar reacting. Break the eggs into individual ramekins, teacups or small bowls. When the water is very hot, with tiny bubbles forming on the sides of the pan, slide the eggs carefully, one at a time into the water. Do not let the water boil. Poach 2 minutes for a soft yolk and 4 minutes for a firm yolk (unless you are preparing them ahead of time, in which case, cook them for one minute less). Remove with a slotted spoon, and drain on paper towels. At this point you can refrigerate all of the above prepared items. But before assembling, gently warm the eggs in simmering water for a minute.)

Assemble the salad by tossing the greens with the dressing and bacon lardoons. Make a small mound on each of 8 plates. Place an egg in the middle of each mound of greens and top with a toast, placed just to the right of the yolk. Serve immediately.

Special Occasion Lasagna Everyday

There are some recipes that are hard to improve or adapt. (This lasagna is the only dish I have known Dale to eat three nights in a row. In fact, I had to freeze the remainder so we—read me--would have a stash of quality frozen dinners.) The economy of time on this lasagna recipe from Cooks Illustrated can’t be beat, and it alone is worth the price of a subscription. Because I save so much time, I splurge on ingredients: real Parmesan, good ricotta and mozzarella, fresh basil, and organic Glen Muir canned tomatoes. If I run out of basil, I’ll round off the balance with tarragon, chervil, marjoram or oregano. I did find that using lamb in place of veal creates a richer, meatier flavor and is easier to find at the local ghetto Safeway. (Get extra and make meatloaf later in the week.) Two lasagnas take only a little more time to make than a single lasagna. The assembled, unbaked lasagna, if wrapped tightly in plastic wrap and then in foil, will keep in the freezer for up to 2 months. To bake, defrost it in the refrigerator for a day or two and bake as directed, extending the baking time by about 5 minutes.

Special Occasion Lasagna Everyday (Adapted from Cooks Illustrated)
Serves 6 to 8

Tomato-Meat Sauce
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 medium onion, chopped fine (about 1 cup)
6 medium cloves garlic, green germs removed and pressed through garlic press or minced (about 2 tablespoons)
1/3 pound each ground beef chuck, ground lamb, and ground pork
½ teaspoon table salt
½ teaspoon ground black pepper
¼ cup heavy cream

1 can (28 ounces) tomato puree

1 (28-ounce) can diced tomatoes (original recipe calls for draining, but I don’t bother)

Ricotta, Mozzarella, and Pasta Layers
15 ounces ricotta cheese (whole milk or part skim), 1 3/4 cups)
2 ½ ounces grated Parmesan cheese (1 1/4 cups)
½ cup chopped fresh basil
1 large egg, lightly beaten
½ teaspoon table salt
½ teaspoon ground black pepper
12 no-boil lasagna noodles from one 8- or 9-ounce package
16 ounces whole milk mozzarella, shredded (4 cups)


No-boil noodles and a quick meat sauce that cooks in just 15 minutes are the secrets of our streamlined lasagna recipe.


1. Adjust oven rack to middle position and heat oven to 375 degrees.
2. Heat oil in large, heavy-bottomed Dutch oven over medium heat until shimmering but not smoking, about 2 minutes; add onion and garlic, and cook, stirring occasionally, until softened but not browned, about 2 minutes. Add garlic and cook until fragrant, about 2 minutes. Increase heat to medium-high and add ground meats, salt, and pepper; cook, breaking meat into small pieces with wooden spoon, until meat loses its raw color but has not browned, about 4 minutes. Add cream and simmer, stirring occasionally, until liquid evaporates and only fat remains, about 4 minutes. Add tomatoes and bring to simmer; reduce heat to low and simmer slowly until flavors are blended, about 3 minutes; set sauce aside. (Sauce can be cooled, covered, and refrigerated for up to 2 days; reheat before assembling lasagna.)
3. Mix ricotta, 1 cup Parmesan, basil, egg, salt, and pepper in medium bowl with fork until well-combined and creamy; set aside.
4. Assemble first lasagna layer:
a) Smear entire bottom of 9- by 13-inch baking dish with 1/4 cup meat sauce. Place 3 noodles on top of sauce.
b) Drop 3 tablespoons ricotta mixture down center of each noodle. Level by pressing flat with back of measuring spoon.
c) Sprinkle evenly with 1 cup shredded mozzarella.
d) Spoon 1 1/2 cups meat sauce evenly over cheese.
Repeat layering of noodles, ricotta, mozzarella, and sauce two more times. Place 3 remaining noodles on top of sauce, spread remaining sauce over noodles, sprinkle with remaining cup mozzarella, then with remaining 1/4 cup Parmesan. Lightly spray a large sheet of foil with nonstick cooking spray and cover lasagna. Bake 15 minutes, then remove foil. Return lasagna to oven and continue to bake until cheese is spotty brown and sauce is bubbling, about 25 minutes longer. Cool lasagna about 10 minutes; cut into pieces and serve.

Chicken Livers with a Velvet Touch

Julia Child wrote that the memory of a good French pate can haunt you for years. I don't know how universal this statement remains, but I do remember my first: It was on Waikiki in '77. (I also had my first twice-baked potato here and saw Bocuse's Truffle Soup.) I had no idea what it was, except it was called foie gras and served in a little brown pottery dish unlike the rest of the china. It was a while before I figured out exactly what that was, and how exactly this differed from Spam and an Underwood canned spread. The animal lover in me felt sorry for the ducks and geese, but at those prices, I realized that it was not a moral dilemma I would often face.

Over the years, I resisted the mousses and pates made from chicken livers. And you know what? I admit that it was part snobbery. Chicken livers just seemed so, so..."ghetto" or white trash or hicksville. But lately, I have been enjoying liver in general more often, and a few weeks ago I took the plunge at Seattle's current food rave Cremant, where I ordered the Gateaux de Foies de Volaille (Chicken Liver Mousse). Like the rillettes at Le Pichet and the cured meats at Salumi, the mousse transported me across the Arctic Circle to Europe (from Seattle, BA doesn't fly over the Atlantic), and I realized that a little bit of Paris was to be found a few blocks away.

When the New York Times published its article on Salumi's culatello, and the resulting press wiped out the supply until August, I had to find a new appetizer for my pre-opera dinner party. There was no doubt in mind what it would be, so I reached for my Balthazar Cookbook, which I have come to love for its recipe brevity, economy of procedure, photographs, and downright tasty food. Also pulled from the shelf were Mastering the Art of French Cooking, Volume One, Silver Palette, Ruhlman's Charcuterie, and La Bonne Cuisine de Madame E.Saint-Ange, the last being the most amazing cookbook I have read all year, and oddly enough, the polar opposite of the Balthazar Cookbook.

This was an incredibly easy and inexpensive (really cheap!) dish. the texture is as smooth as velvet, and as light as air. There is the earthy taste of liver, the warmth of spices, the richness of butter, and a green freshness from the thyme. It makes a great appetizer to serve during cocktails, or before dinner with Champagne or wine. Try different brandys such as Calvados (apple), Armagnac (prunes) as well as eau de vies (e.g., Poire William) for variations. Serve with either a baguette sliced and toasted (preferred), freshly sliced, or crackers. Cremant serves its Gateaux de Foies de Volaille in a lidded crock with a wire fastener. For an all too brief moment, you imagine that the proprietor himself has smuggled it from his grandmother's Perigold farm for your dining pleasure.

Before I filled the ramekins, I showed Dale the rich frothy brown mixture and remarked how an evil mother might fool her children into thinking she was allowing them to lick the bowl after making chocolate pudding.

Chicken Liver Mousse Mousse de Foies de Volaille or Gateaux de Foies de Volaille
Adapted from Mastering the Art of French Cooking and the Balthazar Cookbook
Serves 8 as a shared hors' doeuvre

1/4 pound melted, unsalted butter + 2 tablespoons softened unsalted butter
1 shallot
1/2 pound chicken livers, greenish or black spots removed
1 egg
1 tsp salt
Pinch of fresh thyme, freshly ground
1/4 tsp quatre epices (equal amounts of cinnamon, nutmeg, cloves and allspice ground in mortar and pestle)
1/8 tsp ground white pepper
1 tablespoon of Calvados (Cognac, Armagnac, or brandy are fine)

Preheat the oven to 300 F.

Rub 2 tablespoons of softened butter in three 4 ounce ramekins.

In a medium sized sauce pan over low heat, melt 4 tablespoons butter. Add shallots, and let simmer until soft, but not browned. Remove from heat and place in a medium non-reactive bowl. Add the chicken livers, egg, salt, thyme, and brandy. Process with an immersion blender, until smooth. Add the remaining melted butter, and continue blending until combined. (This can also be done in a blender.) Strain the mixture through a fine-meshed sieve, using the back of a spoon to push the mixture through. Discard the tablespoon or two of roughage remaining in the sieve. To the strained mixture, add the quatre epices powder and pepper, and blend until combined and evenly distributed. Take a tablespoon or two and drop it into an extra ramekin, and microwave it a minute as a taste test. Adjust seasonings as needed.

Divide the mixture between the three ramekins, and place these into a 9" square baking dish. Carefully fill the baking dish to half the height of the ramekins with warm water, and place into the preheated oven. Bake these for 30 minutes: the mousse should be firm to the touch, and an instant thermometer should read 165F. Let the ramekins cool before refrigerating in a sealed container.

To serve: Dip a knife in hot water, dry it, and run it along the inside edge of each ramekin. Cover with a plate, invert, and shake. It should pop free onto the plate. (If not, shake harder, or carefully place in hot water a moment to warm the ramekin bottom.) Gently cup the mousse in your hand, invert, and transfer to a plate with a leaf of romaine or frisee. Add the remaining mousses or serve them on separate plates. Serve chilled with cornichons, French mustard, and toast or bread.

A salad to satisfy

I have not found a salad--composed entirely of vegetables, that is--as satisfying as a meal as this one from Balthazar's in New York City. (It is the one salad I can serve to Dale as dinner without having him demand a slab of meat as the main course.) A friend had mentioned it once or twice on trips to the Big Apple, but I never tried it myself until I somehow came across it on the Orangette blog. Created as the house salad out of ingredients spelling the restaurant's name, it has a wonderful collection of tastes and textures, all held together by the amazing Lemon-Truffle Vinaigrette. The smell of truffles is intoxicating, and if the unwashed dishes sit in your dishwasher all night, then you will be greeted in the morning by a rush of truffle air courtesy of Whirlpool. Perhaps it is not as marketable as truffle oil, truffle butter, or truffle rice, but then again there wasn't a market for balsamic vinegar 30 years ago, either.

I knew that this had to be the salad for Mother's Day, when the entire family would be here. I ignored the fact that beets are the one vegetable that my own mom dislikes, knowing that even she would be won over by this salad, and she was--at least in that way that moms like anything you do. Maybe next year I'll try beets and veal sweetbreads...

On vegetables: This is a great opportunity to use your mandoline as the fennel and radishes should be as thin as possible. The original recipe calls for the asparagus to be boiled for 8 minutes, but green vegetables should never be boiled this long as they will lose both color and nutrients. The maximum time is 7 minutes, according to Shirley Corriher's Cookwise. You also never want the water to stop boiling as the vegetables get damaged in the heat, but don't cook properly. The larger quantity of water keeps the heat, but it also allows the acids in the vegetables to become diluted and to escape in the steam; these acids are what cause the vegetables to lose their brilliant green color, which is why the pot should not be covered. So in the adaption below, they are peeled and cut into into three inch pieces. For recipes like this, I prefer the thicker asparagus as it is easier to peel, and is no less tender--just be sure the tips are closed or tight. The cookbook calls for a roasted beet, but a raw beet can be used without too much loss. (To roast: rub olive oil on the beet, place a sprig of thyme next to it, wrap in foil, and bake in a 350 degree oven for one hour. Remove the skin, and cut accordingly.)


Balthazar Salad Adapted from The Balthazar Cookbook
Serves 6


1/2 lb asparagus spears, peeled and trimmed and cut into 3-inch pieces on the bias (diagonally)
1/4 lb haricots verts or green beans, trimmed
1 lemon (juice and peel are needed)

1 fennel bulb, very thinly sliced--think translucent
1/4 lb red radishes, very thinly sliced

1 head of Romaine lettuce, washed and torn
1 head of Frisée, washed and torn
1/2 head of Radicchio, washed and torn
1/4 lb of Mache, washed and torn

1/4 cup Lemon-Truffle Vinaigrette
1/4 lb ricotta salata,
1 beet
1 avocado, Hass preferred
1 tsp salt
1/2 tsp black pepper
3 slices of brioche, toasted and ground into crumbs

Fill a stockpot with water and add salt. The water should should taste like the sea. Bring it toa boil over high heat. Prepare an ice bath by filling a medium bowl with ice cubes and covering with cold water. Add the asparagus to the boiling water and cook until crisp-tender or al dente, roughly 3-4 minutes. Remove the spears with a spider or skimmer or slotted spoon to the ice water. Remove as soon as the asparagus is cold. It should not stay in the water any longer than it has taken to cool in order to prevent nutrient loss. Meanwhile, add the beans to the boiling water and cook until crisp-tender or al dente, roughly 3-4 minutes. Remove the beans to the ice water, removing as soon as the asparagus is cold. If you are blanching the lemon peel, blanch it in the boiling water by letting it boil one minute and then removing the zest to the ice bath. Mince the zest when cool.

Slice the ricotta salata into six slices or julienne (1/8"x1/8"x/2" aka “matchsticks”). Julienne the beet as well. Halve and peel the avocado, and slice thinly. Sprinkle with lemon juice to prevent browning.

You can either assemble the salad individually as I did, layering the vegetables in a handsome composition and then drizzling with vinaigrette. Or add the asparagus and beans, mix, and add the lettuces, salt and pepper and vinaigrette. Divide equally on 6 plates, and add a slice of ricotta or ricotta matchsticks. Place beet sticks and 2 slices of avocado on each plate, and sprinkle with bread crumbs (which I always forget, if I even bought the brioche).


Lemon-Truffle Vinaigrette Adapted from The Balthazar Cookbook
Servings: Makes 1 cup

2 lemons, juiced (1/4 cup, see below)
1/2 tsp salt, or to taste
1/4 tsp freshly ground black pepper
3/4 cup extra virgin olive oil
1/4 cup white truffle oil

Pop the lemon into the microwave for 10 seconds, and roll the lemon hard against a countertop with your plam. Cut the lemon in half and juice both sides into a small stainless steel or glass bowl, straining the seeds. Add salt and pepper. Emulisify the dressing by slowly adding the oils in a steady stream, whisking constantly and vigorously. Store remaining dressing in a tightly sealed glass jar in the refrigerator, where it will last a week.