playing with fire and water

cornu copiae

The symbolism of the cornucopia as a font of abundance is attributed to classic mythology, most notably to the goat Amalthea, who was Zeus' foster mother and nursemaid. The story goes that young Zeus, after breaking off one of Amalthea's horn, atoned for the accident by endowing it with his divine power to provide, in an endless supply, any fruit that she desired. As fantastical as the myth may be, at its core is a loving compensation of nourishment, and a promise of an eternal feast.

gingersnap pecan ✢ pumpkin pie mousse ✢ chocolate

pumpkin pie mousse

120g cream cheese, softened
120g pumpkin puree
20g sugar
1g cinnamon
.75g ground ginger
.50g ground nutmeg
200g cold heavy cream

Beat cream cheese until light and fluffy. Add pumpkin, sugar and spices and beat until well blended. Stir in heavy cream until mixture is smooth. Pour into a .5 Liter iSi whip canister and charge with 1 N2O cartridge. Invert canister and shake vigorously. Chill for 30 minutes before dispensing.  

In this season of gratitude and feasting, may your horn always overflow with plenty.

three little figs

Once upon a time, not so long ago or far away, there was a very special fig.

Figgy [as she liked to be called] was no ordinary fig. She was a fig with aspirations.

Indeed, all figs have aspirations; they all want to be immortal. In the glory of their ripeness, they put on their dusky makeup and most alluring perfume in hopes of attracting hungry birds and beasts to spread their seed. 
But our Figgy wanted something different for herself. She wanted to go out in a blaze of glory and to live on as a fond memory.

To this end, Figgy placed ads in dozens of newspapers. She received many replies, but thought none earnest. [She was convinced that they were all just greedy bluejays.] Then she received a call from a chef who seemed genuinely interested. Figgy followed her instincts and agreed to a formal meeting.

The meeting was held at the chef's restaurant. Chef greeted her warmly and seated her at a table in the kitchen, then proceeded to present her with dish after dish of the finest food she had ever tasted. After dinner, Chef joined Figgy for a glass of Port and asked her about herself.
 
Figgy told Chef that her ancestors had come from a faraway land that was once called Persia, but is now known as Iran. They had lived there for centuries in the most splendid gardens that the world had ever seen.
"Did you know that the word paradise is from an ancient Persian word for walled garden?" asked Figgy.
From there, they migrated west to Egypt, then north to Greece, where figs were held in high esteem by both slaves and royalty.
"My forebears were among the figs that concealed the asp in Cleopatra's basket and flourished in King Alcinous' orchard during Odysseus' visit." 
"Fascinating", said Chef and begged her to continue.
"Successive generations continued westward along the Mediterranean: Rome, Provence, Andalucia, and finally the Algarve, where my grandmother settled. When my mother was just a sapling, she was packed in a box and shipped across the Atlantic to New England. That's where she lives now; in a pot on a terrace during the bearing season and winters in a heated greenhouse. She is happy and well cared for."
 
"And you?" asked Chef, "Tell me why you're here."
"I was born in the greenhouse and moved onto the terrace when I was still very young. The family that cared for us would gather there every night for dinner. From high up on one of my mother's boughs, I would watch them feast on the most sumptuous foods. With every bite, they all agreed that it was the best they had ever tasted and that they would remember it forever. It was then that I realized that I didn't want to be gobbled up by a hungry bird. I want to be savored, to be lingered over, to be remembered! I'm hoping that you can help me with that."
 
"I will do my best, but tell me... what would you like me to do with you?"
Figgy had thought long and hard about this. It's true; she was a dreamer, but she was also a sensible fig. She understood that in order to make a lasting impression, she needed some enhancement. In her haste to fulfill her destiny, perhaps she had left her mother too soon and was not as sweet and ripe as she could have been.
"I can fix that with a bit of honey." said Chef.
 
Figgy's mother had taught her many things about her history and her anatomy. She often lamented that figs are mistaken for fruit when they are actually flowers. She had explained that inside herself were hundreds of flowers that looked like long, thin filaments, and that each one held a seed. These seeds, she had said, were what perpetuated their species and held them in regard as an ancient symbol of fertility. But they were often cursed by humans for getting caught in their teeth and interrupting the sensual experience of eating figs.
Chef listened to her concern and suggested that a blender would break down her seeds, if she would allow it.
 
Figgy was not afraid of the blender or what it would do to her, she was ready to sacrifice herself fully. But she was adamant about retaining her form, of which she was fiercely proud, despite it's phallic shape that has been a source of embarrassment to both men and women throughout the ages. So much so, that the original Arabic word for figs is now considered an obscenity.
"No problem" said Chef "I can mold you so that you will look exactly like yourself, but better."
 
This pleased Figgy and she was anxious to get started, but Chef was hesitant.
"I think that to make you truly memorable, you will need to share the spotlight with other flavors. If we do it right, they will not rob you of your glory, but make you more delicious. Will you trust me?"
When Figgy seemed amenable, Chef continued, "Great! I'd like to introduce you to some of my friends that I think you will get along with very nicely."
 
Chef rushed into the kitchen, swept things up off the counter, and laid them out in front of Figgy.
 
"First, I'd like you to meet Onion Caramel. She may look cloyingly sweet, but she's surprisingly sassy."
"Yes, I like her." said Figgy taking a taste "She's got lots of personality!" 

"Next, there's Dark Chocolate. He's smooth, suave, mysterious and seductive, but with a bitter edge to balance your sweetness."
"Oh my, I'd better stand my ground with him or he will sweep me off my feet."

"And, finally" said Chef, lifting the lid off a round, wooden box "there's Epoisses."
Figgy shrieked and stepped back, holding her breath.
"Now don't be afraid. I know Epoisses seems offensive, but I assure you, it's only skin-deep. If you take some time to get to know her, you'll find that she's full of character and actually sweet and mild on the inside."
Figgy watched Chef cut through the rind and expose a pale, creamy heart. She tasted carefully and found Epoisses agreeable and lovely.

"So, when do we get started?" asked Figgy.
 

The next morning Chef entered the kitchen to find Figgy and her friends engaged in a lively conversation.
When Chef asked Figgy if she was ready, she pulled Chef aside and said in a hushed tone, "I really love my new friends. We couldn't get along any better, but I'm worried. They are all such wonderfully memorable characters, how can I stand out among them?"

Chef understood and said reassuringly, "Figgy, I promise you that when I present your dish tonight that it will only be you that they see. And from then on, when they remember your dish, it will be you that they reference."

Chef and staff worked steadily throughout the day in preparation for the special meal. Every seat for both sittings were full and expectations were high. Course after course of Chef's carefully planned and executed meal was dispatched from the kitchen with only a few minor glitches. Figgy's dish was the final course.
When the last plate left the kitchen, Chef congratulated the staff, cleared the pass, hung her apron, and entered the dining room. 

Late that evening, Chef was alone in the kitchen writing menus, taking inventory, and listing orders for the next day's deliveries. Intermittently, she paused to reflect on the evening's accolades. There had been so many kind words from her guests: enthusiastic bloggers snapped photos and offered praise, critics hinted at rave reviews. There was even conjecture of a Michelin star. But the words that pleased her most were: "...the fig dish...", followed by various adjectives, " fantastic!... delicious!... brilliant!... memorable!"

As Chef turned the lock on the restaurant for the night, she felt overwhelming gratification.
For giving her best.
For pleasing her guests.
For making her staff proud.
But most of all, for keeping her promise to Figgy.

 

left to right:
dark chocolate-covered epoisses
onion caramel 
Figgy

red red rose

 

 
  

forsythia banana birch

I can't go far these days without being distracted by the blazing yellow forsythia that dominate the landscape.

Forsythia, the harbinger of flowering shrubs and trees, belongs to Oleaceae, the olive family of plants. Though the flowers possess only a faint fragrance and mild flavor, they have the distinction of being a rare plant source of lactose (milk sugar). 

Leave it to Nature to endow a flower with mother's milk.

milk chocolate

forsythia

birch beer ice cream

banana cake

birch syrup glass

Download recipe:   Forsythia

chocolate violet carrot

Occasionally, I find fallen nests when cleaning the hedgerows. They are irresistible to me, these vestigial homes; fragile and singular as snowflakes. 

I find colonies of violets in the hedgerows, too. Their cheerful pale blue flowers and heart-shaped leaves look content in the cool, moist environment. Unfortunately, these are the common dog variety (Viola canina) and are not graced with the perfume of the sweet violet (Viola odorata)

Although sweet violets have been widely used in the fragrance industry for centuries, they have no significant culinary tradition aside from the Victorians, who were fond of garnishing sweets with the crystallized flower. Their symbolic connection to spring and haunting aroma have been venerated and romanticized throughout history by artists, poets, monarchs, and even Gods.

 

Napoleon shared a devotion to violets with the Empress Josephine. During his exile at Elba, he promised his followers that he would return in the spring with the violets. This set off a loyalist obsession with the flower, immortalizing the violet as the emblem of the Imperial party, and earning him the nickname "Corporal Violette". He is said to have been buried with a lock of Josephine's hair and violets in a locket.

In Greek Mythology, Zeus ordered the Earth to create the most beautiful of flowers in tribute to his love, Io. The result was the violet. 

Ion, the Greek word for violet, lends its name to the terpene Ionone, the defining aroma compound in violets. Ionone is a megastigmane, or a degradation of beta-carotene. Not surprisingly, carrots contain a fair amount of ionone, as do raspberries, tobacco, roses, and black tea.

chocolate nest

violet ice cream

carrot filaments

blackberries

johnny-jump-ups (Viola cornuta)

calendula

violet dust

Download Recipe:  Violet nest

winter branches

I've revisited Albert Adria's technique of modeling chocolate in ice water. I think it's simply brilliant in it's ability to produce delicate and organic 3D shapes without molds.

For these miniature twigs, the white chocolate was flavored with birch syrup. Preserved wintergreen berries and tiny shards of pine glass were affixed to the branches.

I love the idea of presenting a bouquet of these branches as a mignardise. Their refreshing flavor would be a fitting end to a special meal.

 

Wintergreen (Gaultheria), also known as teaberry, is an evergreen creeper native to norteastern North America. The leaves and red berries are a rich source of methyl salicylate, or oil of wintergreen. The flavor is popular in chewing gum, particularly Clarke's Teaberry gum.

The fresh berries are somewhat dry and mealy in texture and shrivel quickly. Preserving them in a glycerin and water solution keeps them plump and improves their texture. After 2 weeks in a solution stored in the refrigerator, the berries still look and taste fresh. An added perk is that they infuse the solution with wintergreen flavor, which could then be used as a flavorant.

Warning: Methyl salicylate is an analgesic found in aspirin and many over-the-counter liniments and ointments. Pure methyl salicylate can be lethal in doses of 4-6 grams. Oil of wintergreen is 98-99% methyl salicylate and gaultheria leaves and berries contain up to 0.05%. A lethal dose of berries is about 800-1000 grams. Although gaultheria has a long tradition among indigenous Canadians and North Americans as food and beverage, use common sense when ingesting. Young children and pregnant women should avoid eating gaultheria.  

 

white chocolate eucalyptus watermelon olive

Eucalyptus is not a conifer. It is an angiosperm (enclosed seeds|pod) and not a gymnosperm (naked seeds|cone). In many other aspects it closely resembles a conifer, most of all in it's fragrant wood and leaves. 

The aroma of eucalyptus is largely comprised of the monoterpene eucalyptol (about 70%, depending on the variety), also known as cineol, which gives it the characteristic fresh, spicy and camphoric scent that is shared by rosemary, sage and bay leaves. 

I like the way that the fattiness of white chocolate rounds out some of the medicinal qualities of eucalyptus. They both have a cooling effect on the palate, and together they combine into a refreshing flavor.

I also like what agar and gelatin do to ganache. In the right amounts, they provide a toothsome delivery with a creamy mouthfeel and a clean finish. It also allows for doing fun things to ganache, like cutting it into cubes.

Watermelon also has a cooling effect with a green-ish flavor. The problem with pairing watermelon with traditional ganache is textural--when the ganache melts, it coats the tongue, making the wet, crisp watermelon feel odd and doesn't allow the flavor to come through. Altering the texture of the ganache gets around that. Briefly infusing the watermelon with lime juice adds acidity and terpenes that enhance the eucalyptus.

Fresh turmeric is a rhizome in the ginger family with a startling orange color. It also contains eucalytol along with other terpenes that contribute to its earthy and mildly floral aroma.

Black olive croquant is a flavor and texture counterpoint.

Eucalyptus is the only plant on my list of conifers that doesn't live in my yard. Without access to organically-grown eucalyptus, I've been leery of cooking with florist-grade because of the use of pesticides in these products.  I picked up a sapling of an apple-scented variety (Eucalyptus bridgesiana) at a garden center last summer and have been nurturing it under flourescent lights. I used the first harvest to make this ganache. 

 Recipe: white chocolate eucalyptus ganache 

In looking at the first photo, I realize that the scale of the dish is ambiguous. Scale is important--the size of a portion is directly related to our enjoyment of it. This dish is intended as an amuse-- one or two bites of an intriguing combination that arouses the palate for what is to come. If that were to be more of the same, I'm afraid that the effect would be lost.

 

Eucalyptus is a genus of evergreen trees and shrubs that is comprised of about 700 species. It belongs to the family Myrtaceae, whose members include cloves, guava, and allspice. It is a native of Australia, where it is also known as blue gum because of its tendency to leak sap from breaks in the bark. They are not cold hardy but are widely cultivated in the tropics and subtropics. The largest consumers of eucalyptus are koalas.

foie truffle

Equal amounts melted chocolate and forced foie. Golden raisin center. Freeze-dried pear crust.

Amazing with Armagnac!

Drink responsibly.

Have a happy, safe and fun 2009!

black forest