Healthy leftovers

Left to right: Back row Beans, Feta cheese, roasted peppers; Front row Smoked vegetables and Croutons


When I was in the Entremetier (vegetable) station at L'Ecole, The French Culinary Institute's restaurant, I was eating pretty healthy. I brought home a lot of leftovers. (We made vegetable plates, besides the meat specials). I lived on beans with smoked baby artichokes, turnips and Jerusalem artichokes. The dish tasted like bacon, but didn't have any bacon in it at all. I ate roasted peppers with Feta cheese. As a snack, I munched on croutons (which were toasted in clarified butter but whatever). It was a good run of being healthy and it fulfilled one of my New Year's resolutions to eat more vegetables.

Dario Cecchini: Famous Butcher of Panzano

I first heard about Dario Cecchini, the butcher of Panzano, from Anthony Bourdain's No Reservations Tuscany episode. Constantly quoting Dante, Cecchini is crazy for meat. Then I read about Cecchini in one of my favorite books Heat: An Amateur's Adventures as Kitchen Slave, Line Cook, Pasta-Maker and Apprentice to a Dante-Quoting Butcher in Tuscany by Bill Buford. I knew if I ever visited Italy again I'd go straight to Cecchini's butcher shop and restaurants and take in all his wonderful meat. But on January 24th, I had my chance to see him. Cecchini did a butchery demo at The International Culinary Center, the home of my school The French Culinary Institute. Cecchini is so enthusiastic about butchery that his happiness is infectious. He said we shouldn't think of beef as just a bunch of steaks. We need to think about using the whole animal. I took photos and wrote a post for Serious Eats.

Click here to see the slideshow.

Porgie in Kimchi Bacon Broth

Since I've made so much kimchi for my Level 5 Menu Project, I decided to poach fish in a broth made with kimchi. Porgie in Kimchi Bacon Broth is the third course in my menu project that I turned in a couple weeks ago. 

I had made the broth with kimchi, kochujang (Korean red pepper paste) and kochukaru (Korean red pepper powder), but the broth was missing something. It tasted thin. I had some bacon in my fridge, so I dropped it in. The bacon instantly gave the broth depth. I cooked porgie fillets in the liquid and ate the fish for dinner.

Porgie in Kimchi Bacon Broth

Serves 4

4 porgie or bass fillets
salt
freshly ground pepper

for Dashi stock
1 pieces kombu or dried kelp (roughly 3 inches by 5 inches) Size is not crucial.
20 anchovies, each one 8-9 cm long (3 inches long)
1 liter or 1 quart

for Kimchi Bacon broth
all of the Dashi stock
100 g or 3.5 ounces kimchi, chopped
10 ml kimchi juice
1 teaspoon kochujang, Korean red pepper paste
1 tablespoon kochukaru, Korean red pepper powder
2 slices smoked bacon
1 tablespoon corn starch
1 tablespoon water

for garnish
1 carrot, peeled, julienne
1/4 Daikon radish (200 g/7 ounces), peeled, julienne
1 scallions, sliced diagonally
salt
1 tablespoon butter
water as needed

For dashi stock:
Remove heads and guts of anchovies. Bring 1 liter water to a simmer. Rinse the dried kelp. Turn off the heat and drop the kelp in the water. Let it steep for 10 minutes. Then discard the kelp.

Drop the anchovies in the water. Bring to a simmer and continue to simmer for 30 minutes. Skim off any foam. Strain the stock. Use as the soup base for the broth.

For the Kimchi Bacon broth:
Add the chopped kimchi, kimchi juice, kochujang, and kochukaru to the dashi stock. Bring to a boil. Then add the bacon. Blanch until the broth is fully flavored. Strain.

Season fillets with salt and pepper. Lay 4 fillets in a large pan. Fill the pan with kimchi broth until the broth is halfway up the fillets. Cover with a lid. Or, cut parchment paper in a circle to cover the pan. Then cut a hole in the middle of the parchment paper. Cover fish with the parchment paper lid. Bring broth to a simmer. Cook fish until done.

Set fish aside and cover with parchment paper to prevent the fish from drying out.

Add more broth to the saute pan. Keep the heat at medium. Make a slurry by mixing the corn starch and water together in a small bowl. Add a little bit of the broth to your slurry. Then add the entire mixture to the brother in the saute pan. Whisk the broth so the corn starch is fully incorporated into the broth, which should thicken slightly.

For the garnish:
Lay julienned carrots and Daikon radish in a saute pan. Add a tablespoon of butter. Fill the pan with water until it reaches halfway up the carrots and radish. Cover vegetables with a lid. Or, cut parchment paper in a circle to cover the pan. Then cut a hole in the middle of the parchment paper. Cover vegetables with the parchment paper lid. Cook until tender.

For serving:
Place each fillet in a shallow bowl. Ladle broth around each fillet. Garnish with carrots, Daikon and scallions.

Print recipe

Other courses in my Menu Project:

Course 1: Banchan of stir-fried anchovies, seasoned cucumbers and kimchi

Course 2: Bulgogi Bibimbap (Korean marinated beef with vegetables over rice
Course 4: Kalbi jjim (Korean short rib stew)

Tournage: Carving vegetable bullets

     Tournage isn't something I do every day i.e. carve carrots, Daikon radish and potatoes into vegetable bullets. At the time, I was testing the Korean short rib stew recipe for my Menu Project at school. Tournage is the French technique for turning vegetables into similar shapes for even cooking and elegant presentation. It had been a pain learning the technique. You had to cut a vegetable to a manageable size, hold the vegetable wedge in one hand and turn it as you cut outward curves into the flesh. Hopefully, you'd be left with a rounded post with seven sides. Your dominant hand would become gnarled from holding a paring knife so tightly, and you'd have difficulty opening and closing your hand. After carving 24 little torpedoes, I felt pretty proud of myself. And yet, I don't think I will ever do that again.

Editor's pick on food52!

Hi!

My Korean short rib stew with dried jujubes and chestnuts was named as one of the "Editor's picks" on food52.com! I entered the recipe for the site's Short Ribs contest. I wasn't a finalist, but it's still an honor!

Check it out!

http://www.food52.com/blog/1584_editors_picks_short_ribs

- Jenny

Fire a steak!

Hangar steak with pommes darphin, cauliflower-bone marrow puree and cucumber ribbons

The heat from the burner pinched my face.

I seared three hangar steaks. The oil sputtered as I turned the steaks to brown all sides. I put the steaks in the oven. The ones on the left and the middle of the sizzle platter would be medium rare---five minutes in the oven. The one on the right would be medium---seven minutes. I seared three more steaks and placed them in the oven. I tried to imprint in my mind: the one on the right would be medium well, nine minutes; the other two would be medium, seven minutes.

My group had switched to Saucier, the meat station, at L’Ecole, The French Culinary Institute’s restaurant. Mark and Alejandro were gone for this class. But Chef S let Henry fill in because he had worked at the Saucier station the last four classes.

The general rule was three minutes for rare and then an increase of two minutes for any temperature above that. But because Christopher and I kept opening and closing the oven, I usually had to cook the steaks longer.

After several minutes, I pulled three steaks out and poked them. They were too soft. I put them back in the oven. When they were done, I put them on the racks above me. The goal was to have steaks for all pending orders resting on racks before the expediter called for them. Then I could reheat the steaks in the oven and Henry could plate the dish.

Level 6 students who were one level higher than we were cooked duck breasts and pork chops. My classmate Christopher was responsible for the rabbit terrine. Shredded rabbit had been placed in a mold lined with strips of bacon. While Christopher just had to reheat a terrine, a grilled scallion and a potato fennel cake for an order, I had to make sure each steak was at the right level of doneness, as well as heat up a fried potato cake wedge, swipe the plate with cauliflower-bone marrow puree and warm through cucumber ribbons.

The expediter, a chef who was in charge of orders for the first time, flitted back and forth between our station and the front of the kitchen. Yelling “Order!” let me know I needed to get steaks ready and resting on a rack. Yelling “Fire!” meant I needed to reheat the steaks and plate them.

I noticed the expediter had crossed out a steak and a rabbit terrine for Table 9, meaning the order was “fired.” But I didn’t remember him saying “Fire.” I turned to Christopher and asked if he was cooking an order for Table 9.

“Yeah,” Christopher said, but he looked unsure.

I put a medium rare steak with a fried potato cake in the oven anyway. I placed a round plate in the oven to warm up. Hot food needed a hot plate. I warmed up cucumber ribbons on the flattop until the nob of butter in the pan melted.

“Jenny, I need the steak,” Henry said who had to slice it.

I took out the steak and gave it to him.

“That’s a good looking steak,” he said as he sliced it open.

I took the plate out of the oven and made an arc of cauliflower-bone marrow puree. I handed the scalding hot plate to Henry who placed the sliced steak on it. I ladled sauce over the steak and Henry dropped the cucumber ribbons on top.

More steak orders came in like an avalanche.

I opened and banged the oven shut as I reheated steaks. I grabbed two pans and seared more steaks. Holding a towel, I gripped a sizzle platter and felt the shock of severe heat through my third finger, making my left arm drop all the way to the floor.

“Ow!” I said and swore silently.

“Are you all right?” Christopher asked.

“Yeah,” I said, dashing to the sink to stick my finger under cold water. I ran back to my station.

My finger ached as I handed over more steaks to Henry to plate. A blister formed quickly on the tip of my finger.

I looked at the board. Some steak orders were crossed out, but I hadn’t heard the expediter fire anything. I shoved more steaks in the oven.

“Jenny, this steak isn’t even cooked,” Henry said after he sliced open one I had given him.

I put it back in the oven and handed him another steak to plate.

“Sauce. I need sauce,” Henry said.

I spun around, took the sauce container out of the hot water bath and ladled the rich sauce over the steak. Henry plopped the cucumber ribbons on it. We plated the other steak.

The expediter called out orders, but even Chef R, the instructor for Level 6 students, was getting confused. He went to the front to double-check.

He came back and said, “Fire two steaks medium and three medium-rare.”

Henry and I plated the two medium steaks that went with the duck and pork from Chef R’s Level 6 station.

Chef R showed up again, saying, “Just worry about the three medium-rare. We took one of the mediums for a later order.”

Turning to the board, Chef R said and pointed, “That order doesn’t exist. He (the expediter) forgot to wipe it off.”

“He’s kind of mixing and matching,” Chef R said under his breath.

The expediter came to our station and fired more orders. He looked tense, his eyebrows scrunched up. He rested his hands on his hips and exhaled. Looking chagrinned, he leaned forward and shook my elbow, giving me a wan, apologetic smile.

I looked at Henry with a puzzled WTF? look.

I grabbed more pans and seared more steaks. Heat from the burners pressed against my face, getting hotter and hotter and hotter. I bent down to open the stove, feeling more heat smother my face. I put more steaks in and took other steaks out. I poked the steaks, swiped cauliflower puree on plates and ladled sauce.

When the last order went up, I felt relieved.

“You did good, considering it was your first time and that guy was a total ---” said Henry, who glared at the front of the room. “You just have to watch your temperatures.”

I nodded and smiled, feeling a small glow of pride.



Rabbit terrine with grilled scallion and potato fennel cake

Culinary school: Fire scallop!

Smoked scallops with butternut squash puree, brussels sprouts, brussels sprout leaves, pomegranate seeds and fried shallots
Photo taken by Jake Yont

The pan stayed hot on the burner as I waited for an order of scallops to be called.

It was our fourth day on the line at L’Ecole, The French Culinary Institute’s restaurant. My classmates and I had moved onto Level 5, the second to last level in our program. Mark, Christopher, Alejandro and I had been assigned to Poissionner or the fish station. Alejandro cooked the branzino, while I seared scallops. Mark and Christopher plated each dish.

“Fire a scallop!” Chef C yelled.

“Scallop heard!” I replied.

I squirted oil in the pan. The oil began to ripple and vapors started rising from the surface, telling me the pan was hot enough. I heard a sizzle as I placed two scallops in the pan. We had smoked the scallops before service, which made them taste like bacon.

I watched as the edges of the scallops turned brown. I lifted one up to check the color. It still didn’t have a good sear, and I put it back down.

“Fire 3 scallop!” Chef C yelled. “That’s four all day!”

“Scallop heard!” I chirped back.

I had to cook four orders of scallops, including the order I was cooking now.

I dropped cubes of butter in the pan. The butter boiled and browned quickly as I flipped the scallops. I basted the little seafood medallions with the browned butter, making them turn a shade darker. I gave the scallops to Christopher to plate, as well as the caramelized brussels sprouts and brussels sprouts leaves I had sauteed.

Christopher had made an arc of butternut squash puree with his spoon on a square plate. He arranged four brussels sprout halves and leaves around the scallops that he nestled above the squash puree. He dropped pomegranate seeds on the plate, laid fried shallots on the scallops and squeezed pomegranate molasses vinaigrette in a circle around the scallops.

I seared six more scallops and gave them to Christopher.

“I need those scallops!” Chef C yelled.

“They’re coming, Chef!” Christopher and I said.

Alejandro and Christopher ran the plates up to Chef C, putting them under heat lamps.

More orders kept coming. I just stared down at the deep brown color of butter in my pan and frantically basted scallops.

Christopher took a break to get plates of family meal from the kitchen next door.

“Jenny, you can eat. I grabbed food for you,” Christopher said.

“No,” I shook my head.

I squinted at the board, my body all tensed up, waiting for an order to be fired. Finally, I gulped a few bites of scalloped potatoes, not even touching the chicken leg.

I seared more scallops. I had thought the Monday before Christmas wouldn’t be that busy because the last Monday was slow. But we had 66 covers--- 66 people who expected their food to be perfect.

It was almost 10 p.m. The only fish order left on the board was for scallops.

Chef C leaned forward from her perch at the front of the kitchen.

“Jenny, you have four orders. You need to anticipate,” she said.

“Yes, Chef,” I said and nodded.

I had already sautéed the brussels sprouts for the orders and was keeping them warm on the grill.

“Fire four scallop!” Chef C yelled.

“Scallop heard!” I replied.

I seared eight scallops and then hit the pan with butter. I flipped the scallops. Two scallops had browned too much, a couple were on the light side and some were browned just right. I drenched the scallops in browned butter and gave them to Christopher.

“I burned those,” I said. “I think I should make them again.”

“No,” Christopher said and he turned the offending scallops over, showing a lighter side.

With the last order out, we cleaned up.

“You did good today,” Chef C said later.

“Thank you, Chef,” I said, feeling relieved.

I could do this. I just needed to trust myself more. 


Photo taken by Jake Yont
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Korean Church potluck

Every time I go to my parents' Korean church in Wisconsin, we're always well-fed. Sunday, we celebrated the New Year with rice cake soup, or dukkuk, a traditional Korean soup eaten on the first day of the year. You have so many things to choose from in this soup. You can break open a dumpling with your spoon and pick up a rice cake, or you can get a taste of beef. Then you can dive your spoon in the soup again and have some scallions to go with more rice cakes.



A church member brought kimchi, which was wonderfully sour.






I loved these Rice Krispie bars with Chex cereal and fruit loops.


Another church member made rice cakes with red beans. I'm going to call them rice cake biscotti.


The soup goes really well with kimchi.