Hello there, gentle readers! It's been a while since I've posted on this fledgling little site. In the interim, the seasons have changed, and all of the summer cooking I did (which was admittedly very little - thanks, job.) will now have to wait until next year when corn and tomatoes and everything else that tastes good when it's too hot for anything to taste good is back in season. Right now we are in flu, and ergo stew, season. In my neighbourhood, the smell of burning leaves hangs in the air, the latter of which is crisp and biting, and the sun is pale and weak. My apartment is notoriously cold, so after a cookbook skim session, Tom and I decided to tackle the stew from Thomas Kellers' Ad Hoc at Home.Â
Despite it's seeming homey, family-oriented theme, do not be fooled: Thomas Keller has never seen a chinois that he didn't like. Almost everything needs to be annoyingly cooked, blanched, roasted or reduced separately, meat doesn't dare come into contact with herbs, and the recipe references other recipes which will take twice as much time as you think they will. You can, for example, half the time on the sofrito (a basic combination of slow-cooked caramelized onions and tomatoes) without any appreciable difference. Sofrito is basically the best condiment in the world, and you can use it on scrambled eggs, bread, or [insert item here]. It will elevate [insert item here] to taste heights previously thought unreachable. I'm so confident about this that if you're not satisfied, just mail it back for a free refund! (I can make bald assertions like this, since I'm fairly sure only two people read this blog, so I can afford to pay for their collective onions and tomatoes.)
Despite my professed hatred of leftovers, the flavours in this stew actually improve after a night or two in the refrigerator. The orange rind is subtle and nuanced, and adds a bit of brightness to an otherwise intensely rich and tasty dish. If I were to find myself with four hours on my hands again, however, I would relegate the olives to a garnish, as their brininess tended to overpower the other flavours.
(Sidenote: In view of this laborious task, we hastily assembled a cheese plate to tide us over. We selected a Robiola, which is firm on the outstide, but gooey and spreadable on the inside and a tart Tiger Blue, with some fried bread (fried bread will be the end of me) and some figs. Consider it like a tasty checkpoint on your way up Everest.)