Workbook

Pushing It

 

We're fleshing out another old exercise from these pages, that combo of balsamic ice cream and strawberry. It would make me really happy to include an olive oil component, a little more overt than the financier. I don't know, I like the whole 'vinegar and oil' idea.

There were a few initial thoughts on how to inventively approach this: sugar encapsulation, maltodextrin powder, a tableside application... But these were either logistically impractical, 'boring', or take some element of control out of our hands. Most fun would be to incorporate it into a mousse component.

 

So at this point, we're still adjusting, still pushing it to the point where the mousse still 'works' yet the oil flavor comes through. Perhaps I'm still sticking too much to the idea of a conventional 'mousse'. What about a sweet approach to aioli or mayonaisse? Or perhaps there are new directions which I'm just learning about as I write: 'whipped' oils and oil gelation. Hopefully there will be more to report on that end... 

Download: Vanilla-Olive Oil Parfait-Workbook 30.3.09

Salty

 

Our contributions to the savory side of the kitchen are often overlooked. Besides the obvious- molds, silpats, scales, 'magic powders'- we've also produced an ongoing rotation of various dough, tuiles, chips, and vehicles that seem better suited to our training and sensibility.

One of the best- and simplest- of these is what we call pate croustade. This egg-flour-butter dough is a workhorse whose origin is fairly murky; one claim is that it survives from Chef's days with Robuchon, but I'm not certain of that. It is a joy to work with, and results in a super thin, delicate base of which we've done quite a few variations. It currently serves as a tart and taco-like shell for savory canapes.

 

I've been thinking lately about adjusting it ever so slightly to work better in a sweet application; maybe a tiny bit of sugar or even replacing the water with something else entirely or switching out the fat. I'm becoming increasingly more aware of the most basic components, recipes, and ratios where such a subtle substitution could result in something quite special. Some things just don't need over-thinking...

Download: Pate Croustade-Workbook 29.3.09

 

 

Final Touches

 

The great thing about all of these daily exercises is that I'm certainly not wanting for lack of ideas and launching points. The downside is that it sometimes takes awhile to see these initial sparks through to a completed dish. It might be time or a matter of logistics, or I might just be waiting for that final component to unify a composition.

I've finally circled back to a yogurt-based dessertthat is now ready for prime time. Once we nailed the micro-sponge for a la minute service, I needed that one extra element to round it out: basil ice cream.

 

The final dish now consists of the yogurt parfait, rhubarb marmelade, yogurt micro-sponge, grated freeze-dried bluberry, micro-basil, the ice cream, and rhubarb chips.

 

Download: Basil Ice Cream-Workbook 28.3.09

 

 

From Memory

 

I recently found myself the proud owner of an old bottle of Sauternes. And though this would be something to hold onto for a special occasion, I began to think not just of pairing wines with desserts, but incorporating them as a component.

 

As I sifted through the catalog in my head, I remembered something in a book that I haven't really looked at, well, since it came out. But I vividly recalled a Sauternes gelee with apple and coconut, a trio that for some reason stuck in with me all these years. I set out making a gelee from a sweet wine we pour by the glass and then an apple foam; coconut sorbet is still in our rotation.

The funny thing is, after the fact, while checking the book- Tetsuya Wakuda's- I realized he hadn't included coconut at all. My memory had somehow linked what must have been two different ideas to the same source of inspiration. I admit that I likely forget just as many things as I remember these days, but it still has me stumped as to why I always attached that phantom flavor to his dish.

At any rate, the foam was adapted from an old friend, Patrice Demers up in Montreal. He shared this recipe, some 7 or 8 years ago now, as part of another interesting trio of flavors: apple, yogurt, and butternut squash.

 

Download: Green Apple Foam-Workbook 27.3.09

 

Fade to Black

A visit down to our outpost in Washington DC had been long overdue, and one of the perceived holes that needed to filled on the menu was a chocolate cake. It didn't matter exactly what form it took, all I knew that chocolate cake would be at the top of my agenda.

 

In thinking of various options, from a simple layer cake (boring) to the old warm chocolate cake (kinda cool now in a retro way, but still tired) and beyond, I remembered always wanting to play around with black cocoa. And in the realm of cake bases, fewer are more simple, better tasting, or cocoa-centric than a flourless method. That was where I'd begin.

 

But the more I researched black cocoa, it became apparent that it wasn't this dark and secret special ingredient I had been missing all these years.  Rather, it's just treated with more alkaline to produce a darker color (think Oreo black), which doesn't ultimately add much in the flavor department, just a harsher bitterness.

 

After trying a couple of different proportions, I quickly realized that, in the end, the cake was just fine, if not better, with our conventional cocoa. I'm sure there are, however, appropriate applications for black. And the cake that eventually emerged happily exceeded expectation; it was refined enough to put our name on it, while not being too fussy for a casual bistro menu.

 

Download: Flourless Chocolate Cake- Workbook 26.3.09

Purple Drink

 

So I've had this purple corn sitting around for some time now. It was a gift from Giuliana, my Peruvian pastry chef running the show down in Grand Cayman. Often with something new and weird and special, you almost hate to play with it in fear that if you do find something useful, you'll never be able to source it again. After noticing this corn tucked in to a corner at Kalustyan's recently, I finally decided to get into it.

As with the falooda, just a little bit of research reveals that what first appears an oddity to some of us is everyday fare for many others. This is why I'm attracted to such things; by confronting new (to me) ingredients I not only grow as a chef but I also learn a thing or two about other cultures. What I discover may not fit into the context of what I do right here/right now, but at least my frame of reference expands ever so slightly. And it's humbling as well, to be reminded that what we do is just a tiny drop in a very big bucket.

     

It became quickly apparent that I use the chicha morada as a starting point. Under a broad umbrella, chicha refers to drinks both fermented and unfermented- primarily derived from corn, but other grains, too- found throughout South America. In Peru, the purple corn drink is as ubiquitous as Coca Cola and Kool Aid here; in fact, though it can be made at home, it is sold in the bottle and in powdered packet form as well.

Using the recipe on the package as a general guideline, I began by simmering the dried corn, eventually adding some lemon, clove, cinnamon, and pineapple rind, followed by sugar and more lemon and lime. It didn't take long before I realized, "OK, basically this is like... it's corn sangria!"

 

   

Also obvious was to give the chilled liquid some carbonation. But then I have to ask how it all works in my context. The gut reaction was to turn the chicha morada into a gelee, with the appropriate garnish- julienne pineapple, apple granite, micro cilantro-  to create a sort of 'solid' sangria.

Download: Purple Corn Soda-Workbook 25.3.09

Download: Purple Corn Gelee-Workbook 25.3.09

 

Using Your Noodle

 

This exercise had a dual purpose. For starters, in planning my second class at ICE- Asian Flavors in Contemporary Desserts- I wanted to include central Asia in addition to what we normally perceive as 'Asian' (we usually stop at China and southeast Asia). But I've always been interested in those dishes from other cultures that closely resemble some of our own, too. In this case, it's falooda, which is little more than an ice cream sundae, or perhaps better described as a milkshake with texture. Versions exist from India and Pakistan into Iran and further west, the constant being these vermicelli-like noodles (as far as I can tell, most often made from corn or arrowroot), but also basil seeds and rose.

     

Without adding too much of my own quite yet, I kind of just felt like exploring some of the classic flavor combinations to see what might inspire me further. Building upon our rose sorbet, I wanted to incorporate mango, saffron, jaggery, and pistachio, in addition to the textural play of the noodles and basil seeds. I guess the only thing missing would be cardamom. Nothing earth-shattering in its own context, I guess until you view it through the lens of conventional Western desserts.

     

The noodles themselves have always interested me. I initially assumed they would soften up nicely with just a cold water soak, although they are most often quickly boiled then shocked in ice water. It's also not uncommon to see them broken up and incorporated into an ice ceam or kulfi, though I learned the hard way that they might benefit from a soak in syrup first; mine became crunchy little filaments upon freezing. The basil seeds held up much better when folded into our sorbet. It was also a no-brainer to throw a few strands of dried noodles into the fryer; they puffed up beautifully.

Somewhere among these ingredients or their juxtaposition, there's a dish waiting for me...

Download: Falooda-Workbook 24.3.09

 

Back in Black

 

I feel like I've been ignoring our old friend black sesame.

   

 

The last macaron we did contained a center of ground caramelized sugar and black sesame seeds, further mellowed out by a hit gianduja. We could never get it super-fine; I liked the texture, but I always thought it needed improvement. Then we decided to give macarons a rest, and our sesame efforts drifted elsewhere.

This is the result of trying a typical soft rocher approach: the black sesame paste with added cocoa butter and dark chocolate. It's a delicate mixture to handle, either liquid or solid, but that magic melting point makes it nice to eat. It might need a touch more sugar for some; I purposely chose a low percentage chocolate to help that balance.

Download: Black Sesame Rocher-Workbook 23.3.09

   

Roots

 

There were various odds-and-ends on my to-do list over the Winter, many of which will now have to wait until the season returns. The kitchen had been using parsnips the last few months, and every time I spied them in the walk-in my mind would start to wander.

Switching them out for the usual in a conventional carrot cake is an obvious first move, one that Sam Mason made years ago. For a more straight-forward approach, I took inspiration from Ken Oringer, and a dish I once had at Clio, which combined parsnip, cocoa, and black truffle.

     

     

As I set out to fashion a parsnip custard or panna cotta, I began to consider what form or shape it might take, and in turn, how I might pair a chocolate component. I kept coming back to the simplest yet most effective presentation. I first dropped a mound of dark chocolate ganache in to a bowl, letting it set before pouring in the parsnip cream. Here we maintain a playful element of surprise, and the guest will invariably experience both flavors and textures at once, even if in ever-shifting proportion. Most of all, there's nothing superfluous to distract from the dessert's intended purpose.

   

I did two versions: one in a small bowl, above, and the other in a glass. I definitely prefer the former. And though I may file it away for later in the year, I'll likely be thinking of similar variations, perhaps cauliflower or celery root...

Download: Parsnip Panna Cotta-Workbook 22.3.09

Clean Lines

 

Many years ago, reading some pastry magazine or another, I saw a profile on one of my favorite pastry chefs, Patrick Coston. He was working in Las Vegas at the time, in between stints in San Francisco and New York, where I eventually met him at Ilo. I always liked his simple and bold plating style, but the one thing in the article that kind of blew my mind were his thoughts on ice cream and sorbet. He had begun molding all of his frozen components, because he felt that scoops and quenelles just weren't clean enough.

This idea impressed me, not least for its result, but the simple fact that he had thought things through to such an extent, that he didn't take convention for granted. It's true: there's a certain sameness to the scoop that we just don't question. There are also possible disadvantages to the method: you would need countless numbers of molds to meet any level of volume, and working quickly to avoid melting and crystallization is paramount. With enough molding options available, the greater control and aesthetic freedom are exciting to consider.

     

     

This is probably one of my all-time favorite ice creams. I believe it came my way secondhand from an original by Norman Love. Cooking down the honey creates complexity, and the caramelized nuts add just enough textural play.

Download: Burnt Honey Pistachio Ice Cream-Workbook 21.3.09

Download: Caramelized Pistachio-Workbook 21.3.09