MOZZARELLA EN CAROZZA KEMOLL'S

It was back in college that I started on my food journey. In my first apartment the height of my culinary sophistication was a dish called Monster Chicken. A split chicken, skin side up, a whole can of undiluted cream of celery soup spread over. Under the broiler (never turning it over) until it was a smoking, cinder-flecked eruption of sauce and chicken fat. Rice-A-Roni accompanied it. Important to note: this was not fare that ever appeared on the Sullivan family table, these recipes were passed on to me by college friends. Haven't turned out a Monster Chicken since the Reagan administration. No plans yet for a return, but never say never...

Then I started waiting tables at Kemoll's, one of St. Louis's most venerable institutions. Opened as a single room confectionery by Sicilian immigrants in 1927, during my tenure the original matriarch Gaetana still kept a sharp eye on the kitchen and the register. By then it had evolved into a top-notch dining destination, upholding traditional standards unheard of at the time. Fresh pasta made twice a week hanging to dry over wooden racks. Huge wheels of Parmigiano- Reggiano cut into cubes to fit the hand graters for tossing paglia e fieno and spaghetti carbonara table-side. A fridge dedicated just for big cold buckets of fresh clams, lovingly nourished with sprinkles of cornmeal until called into duty for a fritti or vongole.

The Mozzarella en Carozzas you'll encounter today are usually variations of sauteed grilled cheese sandwiches. Done well, exquisite, no question. However Kemoll's recipe is one of a kind. Rather than individual portions, Kemoll's stuffed an entire semolina loaf* with slices of fresh mozzarella, liberally spread with an anchovy-caper-lemon-parsley-olive oil emulsion and baked 'til the bread was crisped, cheese surrendered to the heat, the bold dressing permeating the loaf. Presented whole and served by the slice.

For a first course, bring this hottie out in a shiny copper baking dish to accompany a cool, crisp green salad.

*No mention of Kemoll's and bread would be complete without a shout out to Gaetana's daughter Joann Berger, creator of the beloved Pandora bakery. Sadly shuttered now, Joann is a good friend of my mom so we still have lucky occasions to enjoy her skills and largesse.

MOZZARELLA EN CAROZZA KEMOLL'S
1 lb. loaf semolina bread
1 lb. fresh mozzarella
1 oz. canned anchovies (1/2 of a 2 oz. tin)
3 T. capers
1 T. butter
juice of half a lemon (or the whole lemon if it seems stingy)
1/2 c. extra virgin olive oil
generous handful flat leaf parsley

Slice the loaf, down to but not through the bottom crust,. You need the loaf to hold together. 1 inch slices. Make an equal number of mozzarella slices and insert into the loaf.

In a blender emulsify the anchovies, capers, butter, lemon juice, parsley, pepper (enough salt already). Spread over the loaf, use a spatula to work the dressing down into the slices between cheese and bread.

25 minutes in a 400 degree oven should do it -- halfway through you can spoon up the dressing in the pan and baste the loaf again.

This one is easy to tell when done, meltingly beautiful and fragrant.

TURKEY WHITE - TURKEY BROWN

Pity the poor turkey. For one bright shiny November day it is fussed over, cosseted, the main topic of conversation and culinary concern -- the glistening, mahogany skinned behemoth lording over the Thanksgiving feast like Gulliver and the Lilliputians. Then for the other 364 days of the year it's pretty much relegated to the "I'm watching what I eat" category, a bland, dry mass reluctantly chosen solely for its low-cal, high protein status. Think about it -- even in a club sandwich turkey is the weakest link. Ditch it and add some avacado. Live a little.


Ahh, but remember Myrtle Allen and her Ballymaloe House in Ireland? If not yet cannonized as the patron saint of turkeys, Myrtle should at least be beatified, her Turkey White - Turkey Brown is as close to a miracle as a turkey's going to get. This transformative party dish is a revolutionary concept presenting the white meat and dark meat side by side in rich, individual sauces. Lemony cream sauce for the breasts, a rich bourguignon-style treatment for the dark.

To really do justice to Turkey White - Turkey Brown, you'll need two matching baking dishes. Corningware white is perfectly sufficient (but no clear glass, please, it gives away the surprise). Fancier stuff like Le Crueset is great if you're living large. If you've already got some old heirloom type pieces, more power to you. You're looking for two dishes the same size, 12" x 8" x 3" or larger.

TURKEY WHITE - TURKEY BROWN
12 - 15 lb. whole turkey, butchered as indicated below

For the stock:
Turkey carcass (minus the skin), with neck, giblets, heart. Toss the liver.
A couple of carrots peeled and cut up
A few stalks of celery
1 large onion, peeled and quartered
bouquet garni of parsley, bay leaf and thyme
1 chicken bouillon cube
water

For the white meat:
Flour for dredging seasoned with salt and white pepper
butter for sauteing
heavy cream for the sauce
fresh lemon juice for the sauce

For the dark meat:
Flour seasoned with salt and black pepper for dredging
butter for sauteing
1/2 lb. sliced cremini mushrooms
2 thick strips of smokey bacon sliced into thin strips
1 c. frozen pearl onions
turkey stock
red wine
chopped fresh parsley and fresh thyme leaves

For the crust:
Pepperidge Farm frozen puff pastry (2 sheets in a box), thawed in the fridge
A scrambled egg with a bit of water to make a wash

Make the turkey stock -- allow a couple of hour and after you strain out all the solids continue to reduce it, you won't need more than 5-6 cups so the more concentrated the flavor, the better.

Have your butcher take all the meat off the bones of the turkey, saving the carcass, discarding the skin. The breasts come off in nice big lobes, the legs and thighs come out a little rougher, not to worry. Thinly slice the breast meat across the grain, scallopini-style, in smallish pieces, 2 - 3 inches or so. Cut the dark meat into 1" cubes. Keep white and dark separate.

Start with the breast scallops. Dredge in flour mixed with a moderate amount of salt and white pepper. (Black pepper visually mars the pristine sauce.) Working in batches, saute in hot butter til just barely done. They will cook further in the sauce and you only want the faintest bit of browning. Drain on paper towels as you go. Once you've got them all sauted, layer them in the first baking dish.

Here's where your experience and good judgement come in. You're going to make a sauce of reduced heavy cream and lemon juice. So start with about twice as much cream as you'd need to cover the turkey scallops in the baking dish, and reduce it down by half in a sauce pan. You want a thick, velvety texture. Add 2 teaspoons of fresh lemon juice for each cup of reduced cream. Season with more salt and white pepper. Pour over the turkey scallops, using a spoon to lift up and jiggle the pieces so the sauce goes around and under every piece.

Next dredge the dark meat cubes in flour seasoned with salt and black pepper. Saute these in butter in batches as well, drain and place in the second baking dish. In the remaining butter saute the mushrooms and the bacon, scraping up any browned bits in the pan. When they look ready, repeat the mental calculations for how much sauce you'll need. Equal parts turkey stock and red wine, enough so that when reduced by half you've got enough to cover the dark meat cubes. Add the frozen pearl onions and the fresh herbs in the last couple of minutes of cooking down the sauce. Salt and cracked black pepper. If the sauce looks too thin, thicken it a bit with some flour or cornstarch. You're going for hearty but be sure to stop short of gloppy. Mix the sauce in and around the dark meat.

Unfold the thawed puff pastry on a floured surface. Roll out the rectangles so they're just an inch larger than the baking dishes. Brush the egg wash around the top edges of the baking dishes, place the pastry over the tops and crimp closed. Make it neat and even. If your puff pastry skills are more advanced, you could hold some back and make some decorative elaborations of your own design. Plain and pretty is just fine though. Cut some organized vents* in the top of the pastry to allow steam to escape, and give tops a good going over with the egg wash.

Into a preheated 375 degree oven they go. Plan on at least 50 minutes to an hour if you're plowing through this at one go, while the meat and sauce are still warm. If you've done some of the work in advance and refrigerated it, you'll need to account for that timing-wise. You'll know it's done when the pastry is puffed and browned all over and the sauces are starting to bubble up in the vents or from little breaches along the sides.

And now the moment we've all been waiting for. Present the identical dishes on your table or buffet. Delve into the first and you're rewarded with elegant slices of turkey scallopini luxuriating in lemony cream sauce. Then help your guests to a spoonfull of its apparent twin. But wait! This one is an earthy stew of tender chunks of dark meat studded with the earthy goodness of mushroom, bacon, onion.

High drama...the element of surprise...clever concept...and completely delicious. What are you waiting for?

Send me a picture!

*Astute observers might notice that my steam vents were cut into a "W" and "B".  Little mix-up there, the W covered the brown meat and vice versa.  No matter, it added to the fun. But I will be more careful next time.

MADELEINES AUX TRUFFES

I was in Paris about seven years back and spent a really terrific day with Paule Caillat and her Promenades Gourmandes cooking class and walking tour (there's a really cool video of her class at http://www.babelgum.com/3016113/paris-promenades-gourmandes.html -- but do note Paule is completely fluent in English). We met up early in the morning to shop the local markets: A couple of newlywed Americans, an Asian woman and a quasi-aristocratic type from Budapest who carefully explained that there's Buda and Pest, two cities united, and that one (which one? Buda? can't remember) is more socially significant than the other. Needless to say, she hailed from the correct side of the river. Not sure how that all came up. She actually cut out a little early, probably had pressing obligations to attend to at the embassy or something...


I can't recommend Paule's class highly enough. She's spirited, enthusiastic, a natural teacher and intuitive cook. She keeps up with the current Parisian trends, and introduced us to the then newly in vogue tonka bean (more about that another time). After marketing and preparing a wonderful lunch in her loft-style apartment, she leads a walking tour around Paris, stoping in at the most marvelous establishments, including the famed Dehillerin cookware shop, where she's well-known and obviously well-loved. And I'll never forget being invited down into the cozy, warm basement below the Poilane bakery, where this Mr. Clean-type guy in white short shorts, slip-on keds and one of those Frenchy blue striped bateaux-collared shirts baked those iconic round, hard crusted loaves. He never stopped smiling and the ancient room and equipment were astonishingly immaculate. Fun times.

Paule came to New York this December to host a Christmas in Paris cooking class. Madeleines aux Truffes (presented here). Chicken stuffed with truffles and foie gras. Gratin of winter vegetables with more black truffles. Freshly sliced black truffles dipped in olive oil for light snacking. And Paule's magnificent Caramel au Chocolat tarte which I'm going to post soon.

I made these in St. Louis this Christmas and they were very well received.

Madeleines aux Truffes
Madeleines with Black Truffles
6 T. powdered sugar
1 3/4 c. flour
1 t. baking soda
3 eggs
1/2 c. whole milk
1/4 t. salt
1 (4 oz.) stick of butter
3 T. black truffle oil
2 buck-eye sized black truffles, fresh is best but jarred will work well too
Any truffle juice accumulated in the jar

Beat eggs well until very frothy, and then beat in the milk.

Mix together the powdered sugar, flour, baking soda and salt and gradually add to egg mixture while beating. You want the batter to be very smooth.

Melt the butter on low power in the microwave -- ideally you want it barely melted, just really really soft with only part of it liquid. Not hot.

Slowly beat in the butter and the truffle oil (and juice if you have it).

Shave the truffles whisper thin on a truffle slicer (even the formidable OXO mandoline can't slice as thinly as true truffle slicer). Julienne the slices into thin thin strips. Collect up every little precious scrap and stir these into the batter.

Refrigerate the batter until it's very stiff. Three hours recommended -- though you can do an express chill in the freezer, just make sure to stir every five minutes or so, so it chills evenly. Paule says the chilled batter will expand better due to "thermic shock." I also have a theory that this additional time the truffles spend in the batter before baking allows the flavor to further permeate the batter. Another benefit is that the stiff batter is much easier to work with, at room temp it's pretty sticky stuff.

Preheat oven to 400 degrees.

Butter your madeleine trays -- regular size or minis. Fill each mold about 3/4 full. Bake the mini molds 10-12 minutes -- til they're puffed and golden brown around the edges. The larger size molds should take 12-15 minutes tops. Not too brown!

They should slide right out of the pan onto a rack. Best while still hot from the oven, though you can also prepare ahead and gently reheat before serving. They are pretty resiliant.

Oysters Rockefeller and Clams Casino

With
"Rockefeller" and "Casino" in the names of these two classics, I was going to go with a cutesy title for this post like Millionaires on the Half Shell, but that was a bit too twee, even for me. And these time honored classics really don't need any further gussying up. Oysters Rockefeller or Clams Casino served on their own are worthwhile endeavors.  But unite them on the same plate, piping hot and just the littlest bit crispy on top and you're well into Spectacularly Delicious territory.

Even though you can get fresh oysters year round (since there's been a relaxation of that "only in R months" rule) cold water oysters still taste best.  So O.R. is a seasonal recipe for me. On the other hand, our friend the sturdy clam is always at the ready to lend its briney goodness to chowders, pastas, the seduction of the deep fryer and of course C.C., so you can use this recipe anytime you'd like. 

There are many recipes for Oysters Rockefeller out there -- disregard any that call for cheese. And a complete reliance on spinach is disappointingly bland. Fennel bulb is the key to success here, wise advice first dispensed to me by the good ladies of the The Silver Palate cook books. The clam topping is relatively straight forward. You want the bread crumbs loose, buttery and toasty, not packed tightly as you would for a stuffed clam.  This is not the time to cheat and steam the clams open first -- it's essential to use freshly shucked clams so they are just barely cooked after their ride under the broiler.  Another important thing to note is you need a clam knife for the clams and an oyster knife for the oysters.  Beware anything billed as a combo oyster/clam opening knife -- these tools work equally poorly on both, if at all.

CLAMS CASINO
1 dozen freshly shucked cherry stone clams on the half shell
2 T. chopped parsley
2 garlic cloves minced
2 T. butter
2 T. best olive oil
pinch of salt, grind of pepper
1/2 t. red pepper flakes
juice of 1 lemon
1 c. seasoned bread crumbs
3 strips thick bacon

Saute garlic and red pepper in the butter and oil for two minutes. Stir in the bread crumbs, salt and pepper and saute one minute more.  Take off the heat and stir in the parsley and lemon juice.  Cut each bacon strip into four equal pieces.

OYSTERS ROCKEFELLER
(this topping recipe makes enough for 3 dozen oysters, so make more than the 1 dozen indicated or refrigerate extra for another night)

1 dozen freshly shucked oysters on the half shell
1 fennel bulb, roughly chopped
6 oz. fresh spinach, washed
4 scallions, chopped
1 T. whole grain French mustard
1 t. Tabasco
juice of 1 lemon
1 t. salt
1 t. pepper
1/2 t. dry yellow mustard
2 T. butter
1/2 c. seasoned bread crumbs

Boil the chopped fennel for eight minutes, adding the spinach for the last 30 seconds. Drain, run under cold water to stop the cooking and set the color.  In a food processor chop the fennel, spinach, scallions, butter, salt, pepper, wet and dry mustards, Tobasco, until it's a wet crumble. Add the bread crumbs and lemon juice, mix well.  You'll end up with a thick green paste.

On a pan large enough to hold all the shellfish lay out the clams and the oysters.  Top the clams with their breadcrumb mixture and lay a piece of bacon over each.  Spoon a good tablespoon of the fennel paste on top of each oyster -- you want the oyster peeking through under the topping.

Put the pan under a hot pre-heated broiler and broil until the oyster topping is starting to brown and the bacon is crisped. It takes about 10 minutes but you will want to keep an eye on things.

Serve hot out of the broiler with lemon wedges and extra Tabasco if desired. (I desire.)

MRS. MERINO'S FRUITCAKE

The long-running
tradition of fruitcake-bashing seems to have abated somewhat of late.  Probably because the joke was beyond tired, it exhausted itself to death.  Throughout these dark years of ridicule, fruitcakes carried on, making their annual appearance and enjoying the appreciation of loyalists.  And yet, like so many other holiday treats, fruitcakes have become a commercial commodity.  I don't have any data to back this up (does anyone?) but I"ll guess the majority of fruitcakes you'll encounter this Christmas will be store-bought.

Which is a shame.

Mrs. Merino, a good friend of Steve's mom, has perfected her fruitcake recipe over many years.  This one stands out by the perfect balance of warmly spiced, moist cake studded liberally with, but not overwhelmed by, brightly colored candied fruit.  Commercial versions can err in either direction. Some bakeries, in ill-advised attempts to up the cachet (and price) of their product, will deliver a super abundance of fruit, so a slice resembles a stained glass window -- too sweet, too sticky.  At the other end of the spectrum you have the cut-corners version of dry cake with tiny freckles of fruit, lacking the required bit of chewiness and usually any flavor.

So a couple of Steve's notes before you dive into the recipe.  First, for good, juicy, flavorful candied fruit skip the wan, way over priced offerings found in most grocery stores and buy in bulk from an online resource. Steve has had great luck with nutsonline.com.  And don't be seduced by the promised convenience of cardboard bake-and-serve loaf pans.  They don't hold their shape well, so the sides kind of bow out, the "festive" decorations printed on the sides present an unappealing, pre-fab look, and the cake sticks to the sides of the cardboard pan.  No one's going to appreciate a fruitcake you have to dig out of a cardboard pan that looks suspciously like an end-aisle offering from Walgreens.  Use a conventioal metal loaf pan or mini-pan, run a knife around the edges to release the cakes from the pans and you'll have a perfectly shaped, ready to serve cake.

MRS. MERINO'S FRUITCAKE

1 lb. seedless raisins
1 c. currants
2 c. mixed candied fruit (red and green cherries, citron, lemon peel, orange peel), chopped
1 c. brandy

Mix all this together and let stand overnight

Next day, sift together:
5 1/2 c. flour
2 T. cinnamon
1 T. nutmeg
1 T. ground cloves
1/2 T. salt
1/2 T. baking powder

Add 2 c. pecans

Cream together:

1 1/2 c. butter
2 1/2 c. sugar

Add 6 eggs, one at a time

Add 1/2 c. molasses and beat well

Mix 1/2 c. flour to the soaked fruit and then mix that into the butter mixture.

Add this to the flour mix, alternating with 1/2 c. strong coffee

Grease 3 loaf pans or 8 mini-loaf pans, add batter, and bake 1 hr. in a preheated 275 degree oven. Then reduce heat to 250 and continue to bake another hour and 45 minutes for the full sized loaves, about one hour fifteen minutes for the mini-pans.

It helps to put a pan of hot water in the bottom of the oven to keep the air moist.

Let cool a little, run a knife around the sides of the loaves and then invert to release from the baking pans.