David Ross

Plating- This was the moment of truth. I really had no experience with unmolding such a precious dish of gel. Limited experience in cutting Jell-O shots does not serve as the proving ground for unmolding foie gras in ice wine jelly. I let the cold mold sit in a shallow bath of hot water for about 30 seconds. I knew from the test with the lime Jell-O that hot water did the trick in unmolding gelatine. But this gelatine was different--it was made of wine encapsulating a heavy interior mousse. I feared that the soft walls of gel would collapse without the support of the metal sides of the mold. A plate was placed on top of the mold, the whole contraption inverted so the plate was on the counter and the mold on top. And then this gentle beauty slid out from its cover- You can see a hint of something curious encased in the cocoon of ice wine jelly. And now the garnishes. First, a sprig of bay gently tucked underneath- A few spoonfuls of warm, not hot, wild huckleberry compote- And the bread- A touch of fresh thyme-

The Foie Gras Mousse in Ice Wine Jelly- The main element of the dish started with "Black Ice" 2009 Black Muscat from Tefft Cellars in the Yakima Valley of Central, Washington. The winemakes notes that the wine is "pressed from grapes frozen post-harvest, this wine has the great floral aromas of the Muscat grape, balanced with a crisp, refreshing finish." While not as sweet, syrupy and silken as the delicious ice wines from Ontario or British Columbia, I soon found out that this mildly sweet, fragrant wine was the perfect accompaniment to the rich foie gras. The first step was to make the ice wine jelly. I used a ratio of 1 1/2 cups of wine to 1 1/2 tsp. of powdered gelatine. I wasn't exactly sure of the ratio I needed, but after some research, I went heavy on the gelatine and light on the wine. My assumption was that I wanted a "hard" gel so it would support the weight of the thick slab of foie gras that I would suspend in the jelly. The wine was heated until just to a simmer, then the gelatine was stirred in. This first mix of gel would form the base of the mold. At this point, I wasn't going off experience and pretty much in a freestyle form of preparing the mold. The "first layer"- After the first layer chilled, I let it chill and set in the refrigerator for about 1 1/2 hours until very firm. The "second layer" was composed of thick slabs of foie gras mousse studded with black truffle- The "second layer" of gel was then poured in the mold and around the foie gras. The idea at this point was to create a little ice wine jelly "dome" enclosing a "jewel" of foie gras mousse-

The Bread- "The bread came from Walmart. Yes, the bakery at Walmart supplied the bread for a dish featuring foie gras. I am, I am sure, the only man in America, the world perhaps, to pair bread from Walmart with a culinary icon." Contrary to the thinking of probably a majority of our Members, you don't always have to buy a loaf of bread crafted with fresh spring water delicately bottled at the source, special bread flour flown in from Paris, and yeast fermented in a rural barn in Mt. Pleasant, Washington. Certainly such ethereal loaves give one an incredible taste, but it wasn't necessary in this dish. What I was seeking in this dish was a very, very thin slice of bread that would serve as the vehicle to deliver the foie gras mousse and ice wine jelly. It had to be fresh so it would toast with a delicate crumb, yet crispy but not so brittle that it would break under the weight of the mousse, jelly and garnish of huckleberry compote. I bought the standard Walmart bakery Italian loaf with herbs. Aside from what is a very tasteful bread, it was shaped into a rectangular loaf that was perfect for how I was going to slice it--into thin, long shards. One of the great kitchen tools for slicing bread is a meat slicer. You can control the thickness of the slice, and the blade cuts so incredibly fast that the bread doesn't suffer from that "marshmallow squeeze" effect you get sometimes when you slice bread with a knife. The slices were brushed with melted butter and sprinkled with black pepper then toasted in a 350 oven for about 5 minutes until browned.

The evolution of a dish is a beautiful thing to watch. It can take hours, days, even weeks of experimenting with ingredients, technique and the look of the plate to finally discover the end of the yellow brick road. If you follow our Cook-Offs, you sense that this has been one of the more challenging efforts for me this year. I never set out to become a Master of Modernist gels during this Cook-Off, but I thought it would be easier than it has been. My intent was to take some retro gelatine dishes and craft them into something contemporary. The Ginger Ale Salad looked woeful, but tasted great. The Bloody Mary Aspic topping the fresh oyster was clean, refreshing and both cool and spicy at the same time. But it really wasn't unique, was it? I was still searching for a gel dish with soul. Real soul. Soul that speaks to your heart as a cook. Something unique in terms of the flavor combinations, the textures and the presentation. But what would be the touch that would give the dish "my" soul? Through weeks of experimentation, (and a good dose of luck), I composed a chronicle of test shots portraying my thought process leading up to the final version of the Foie Gras and Ice Wine Jelly dish- The Tests- Ever more molds to try-silicone cups used for making lollipops, a nonstick metal mini-muffin pan, and some metal cutters and ring molds- A small porcelain ramekin, sprayed with non-stick coating and filled with foie gras mousse, levelled-off with a small pastry spatula- The porcelain and glass molds didn't work, nor did the new-age, nonstick teflon or space-age silicone molds. Stuck in the mold became the mantra of my Cook-Off. But what about those little metal molds from Grandmother PInk? I've never used them. They've sat in a dark corner in the back of the cupboard for over 50 years. Could it happen? I'll experiment with some lime Jell-O. But how do I unmold the little dome of jelly? Could the little mold crafted a century ago really work?- I'm starting to get giddy at this point. The mold worked with Jell-O, but will it work with ice wine jelly? How do I get the foie gras into the mold? And what about plating? I need to serve some bread or cracker with the jelly-mousse, but how do I present the bread? In a little ramkin? Doesn't the ramekin with towering shards of bread overshadow what should be the focus of the plate?- I'm starting to believe....

I've named my next gel dish "Foie Gras Mousse in Ice Wine Jelly with Huckleberry Compote." I'll start with a description of each of the elements that went into the dish- -The foie gras mousse is from D'Artagnan. I could never, ever, create a mousse of foie gras with black truffle as unctuous, silky and memorable as what I can buy from D'Artagnan. I typically treat myself to only one shipment a year each Fall. But owing to my dedication to this Cook-Off, I ordered two shipments of Foie Gras. (All in the interest of culinary experimentation of course). After tasting this little tidbit, I welcome any Anti-Foie faction to come to my house and have a taste. You will lift the ban within minutes. -The Ice Wine Jelly was composed of 1 1/2 cups of wine and 1 1/2 tsp. of powdered, unflavored gelatine. To keep with a Northwest theme, (the other Northwest element being the huckleberries), I chose a 2009, Tefft Cellars, Black Ice, Black Muscat, from the Yakima Valley of Central Washington. I heated the wine to a gentle simmer then stirred in the gelatine. The "first layer" was poured into the mold about 1/2" deep, then chilled to set. The "second layer" was a medallion of the foie gras, then a "third layer" of more of the gel. For the "third layer" I used cooled gelatine that wasn't set. I didn't want to use hot gelatine that could have melted the foie gras. -I am one of the most fortunate cooks in the world. I live literally a few miles from the high mountain meadows where wild huckleberries flourish. Every year in late summer I gather about two gallons of the tart, fragrant berries. I immediately make two things-a huckleberry pie and huckleberry compote. Ligonberries are nice and an ode to Scandanavia, cranberries fully appropriate and blueberries pedestrian in a compote. But no other berry is like a huckleberry. When made into a compote and served with the season's first wild Scottish grouse or spooned onto a piece of toast with bleu cheese, you enter into a state of utter huckleberry pleasure. Should you be able to get them, fresh huckleberries are best. You can find online sources for frozen huckleberries. Combine all of these ingredients in a saucepan and bring just to the boil. Reduce the heat to a simmer and cook for about 30 minutes. The compote will thicken as it cools. It's best kept for a day, covered, in the refrigerator, before serving. Gently warm the compote just before service. 1/4 cup red wine 1 tbsp. balsamic vinegar 1 1/2 cups huckleberries 1/8 tsp. cinnamon 1/8 tsp. grated nutmeg 3/4 cup granulated sugar 1 tbsp. fresh lemon juice -The bread came from Walmart. Yes, the bakery at Walmart supplied the bread for a dish featuring foie gras. I am, I am sure, the only man in America, the world perhaps, to pair bread from Walmart with a culinary icon. I bought a thick loaf of Italian herb bread. Dried it on the counter for a day, then used an old trick I found for cutting bread in very, very, thin slices--a meat slicer. Yes, the deli-style meat slicer works incredibly well for slicing bread into thin slices--the perfect accompaniment to foie gras, cheese or any soft terrine. After slicing the bread I brushed it with butter and toasted it in the oven until golden. -The herbs. I wanted to use thyme to play off my earlier photo of a past dish of a foie gras "sandwich" with layers of brioche croutons, foie gras and huckleberry compote. So thyme was a given. Then I found some fresh bay leaves that I bought a few days ago for the brine I'm using to marinate my Sauerbrauten, (that's for next week). A fresh sprig of bay, that seems like a nice garnish. Next up, some photos of the crafting of the gel in the mold, adding the foie gras, and unmolding the gel. Then plating, garnishing, and a cut-away view of what's in the heart of this little ice wine jelly.

Thank you for the suggestion. It worked! And....with Grandmother Pink's 100-year old metal Jell-O molds. Trust me, this wasn't a set-up from the start of the Cook-Off. I bought more silicone molds than I'll ever use in a lifetime. None of them worked as well as those little metal molds. I think everyone will be surprised at the photo results.

Dave, given your knowledge of cheese, what would you suggest for a three-cheese sampler plate for Thanksgiving, including garnishes/accompaniments? And two more cheese questions--what type of wine do you favor for a triple-cream and what type of wine with a bleu?

Wow, what a lovely dish of pasta. Want to share the recipe?

Do you have squirrels in France? They love grabbing my black walnuts the minute they hit the ground. They store them all over the lawn and retrieve them in Winter. Huge old walnut tree and I end up buying walnuts!

Worth pointing out, I think, that this and others like it (I have one similar) were aimed at the average housewife. Times have certainly changed. I thought the same thing. To a housewife in the 50's or 60's, making aspic canapes for a cocktail party was thought to be "fancy." But then you realize that these gels that were such a fad back then actually do have a relation, and cause for inspiration, for both home cooks and professional Chefs today.

You all thought I was scared off gels, didn't you? Hah! Fooled you! I've been wrestling with cups, plates, bowls and molds for the past few days now--still trying to figure out how to portray my Ice Wine Jelly, Foie Gras Mousse and Huckleberry Compote and do it justice. Oh, and I found another vintage cookbook, the "Knox-On-Camera Recipes, A completely new guide to Gel-Cookery." And this delicious-looking recipe for "Aspic Canapes," ca., 1962- "Impress guests with these extraordinary professional-looking aspic canapes. They'll think you had a caterer prepare them." Hmmm. Vintage. Retro. Little metal molds 90 years old. Aspic.........

I could easily be a hungry dog at your house.

Thanks. It's the same basic recipe I always follow for braising beef-coat with flour, saute until deep brown, deglaze, add aromatics and liquid, then braise, covered, in a low oven. For this recipe I cut beef chuck into thick, 2" slabs-about 2 lbs. worth of meat. Then seasoned with salt and pepper and coated in 2 tbsp. flour. (Reserve the leftover flour for thickening the braising liquid). Sear the beef in a mix of butter and oil until deeply browned. (I use a LeCreuset deep casserole dish). Remove the beef then add more butter and olive oil and put in about 2 cups sliced yellow onions. Saute the onions until tender, not caramelized. Add 1-2 cloves garlic, 1 bay leaf, a few sprigs of thyme and some dried parsley. Add back the flour and stir, then deglaze with a bottle of dark stout beer. Add in 1 tbsp. molasses, (to add a sweet note to the bitter ale). Then add about 1 cup of beef stock. Cover and braise in the oven at about 300 temp for about 4 hours. Gently remove the beef chunks and strain the sauce back into the pot. Return the beef chunks and keep warm until service. At this point you can also put the beef in a separate container and refrigerate overnight. Then refrigerate the sauce until cold, skim off the top layer of fat, and combine with the beef on day two and heat through. Once the beef is ready for service, add in about 1 tbsp. of apple cider vinegar. It really gives a flavor boost and accents the sweet and sour in the stew.

This will be wonderful!

I recovered well. I took the foie gras mix and spread it on a slice of the brioche I bought to use as a crouton base for the dish. It was a darn good lunch for 11am on a Saturday. The Savoy dish takes you on a journey of different textures of peas. While there are subtle differences between the different textures of the peas-gelee, fresh, pea shoots-the essence of pea comes through in each element. I remember the gelee as very tender, not gummy or hard-set like I remember from eating packaged Jell-O. I've had this dish at Guy Savoy about three times now and I'm consistently amazed at how a Chef can make a pea taste so wonderful.

I've been struggling for hours and hours with how to capture the flavors and layers in my next dish-Foie Gras Mousse, Ice Wine Jelly, Huckleberry Compote, Crouton. I tried about every shape, size and type of mold I have...and nothing worked. The Foie Gras stuck to the mold and wouldn't come out. If the Foie Gras was at room temperature, it was like glue up against the side of the mold. Freeze the Foie Gras in the mold to make it easier to come out? Nope, little crystals of ice formed in the mousse and changed the silky texture we crave in Foie Gras. I'm challenged by the level of texture in each element--and how they stick to one another in the mold--jelly next to mousse, mousse next to compote, all touching the walls of a persnickety mold. I dipped the mold in warm water to loosen the mousse, then beat it against the counter and pushed a pairing knife around the edge of the mold. What finally came out looked more like dog food rather than something worthy of an eGullet Cook-Off. And then I remembered. I remembered this dish I tasted a few years back at a noted temple of French gastronomy. A restaurant smack dab in the middle of the desert in Las Vegas of all places. A dish crafted by the hands of a French Master. A man with Michelin Stars. A Chef who served me the ultimate taste of a humble ingredient grown in backyard gardens around the world. A dish with a layer noted on the menu as pea "gelee." I searched back in the archives and came upon my report on Vegas Uncork'd 2010-http://forums.egulle...s-uncorkd-2010/ In my report, this is how I described the vegetable course served at the "Master Series Dinner" at Guy Savoy restaurant in Caesar's Palace- First Course- "Tout Petits Pois"-Peas All Around Served with Pascal and Nicolas Reverdy, Les Coutes, Sancerre, 2007 "This is one of Chef Savoy's signature dishes. The base is a pea gelee, then you have pea jus, fresh Spring peas, pea shoots and a poached egg. The waiter cuts through the soft yolk once the dish is placed at the table. The bread for this course was a toasted country bread with chive oil. The taste is the essence of a garden of peas. Everyone at the table used the toast to soak up the pea and soft egg. Delicious." One of the dessert courses at the 2010 dinner at Guy Savoy was a masterful composition of different flavors and textures of strawberries, again using "gelee" as one of the elements. Fifth Course- "La Fraise-Strawberry Served with Clarendelle, Amberwine, Monbazillac, 2003 "The strawberries were served a number of ways-one small wild strawberry, poached strawberries, strawberry sorbet and strawberry gelee garnished with tiny little basil flowers and a small dollop of basil foam to the side. The herbal scent of the basil added to the sense one was eating fresh, sweet strawberries in the field." While I would like to think my food writing has progressed in the past two years, I know my skills with gels are still lacking. But with the inspiration from the memories of "Peas All Around" and "Strawberry," I'm putting Grandma Pink's little metal Jell-O molds back on the shelf, (for now), and I'm directing my dishes to different preparations. Once I've crafted Foie Gras, Ice Wine Jelly and Huckleberry Compote into something that looks and tastes delicious, I may move on to a sweet dish employing gels.

Flemmish Beef Stew. The flavor was good, but next time I'll use Guiness Stout in this stew as I prefer the stronger flavor over Belgian-style Ales.

Believe it or not, I'm hearing good reviews from Food Writers in Las Vegas about the new buffet at Caesar's Palace. It's sort of modeled on the buffet concept at the Wicked Spoon at the Cosmopolitan-small plates of food rather than groaning steam trays of tepid stuff. It might be worth a try. The next great opening with much loud fanfare will be late November or early December when Gordon Ramsay Pub opens in the former Bradley Ogden place at Caesar's. If you are looking for something on a more casual, less expensive level, you might want to try the Cafe at Valentino in front of the main dining room. I hear they just got in the season's first fresh white truffles from Alba. Chef Pellegrini's Pappardelle with White Truffles and a glass of wine is all you need for a delicious meal.

I've got everything to go for my next dish. Found a local Northwest ice wine that I'm going to use instead of Sauternes for the wine jelly in the dish. And I'll probably add a vinegar reduction on the plate. Wish me luck.

What I'd be tempted to do is work from the top of the mold to the bottom: -first layer: Fois gras mousse -second layer: Sauternes jelly, or if you're feeling very rich, perhaps a palmito mousse? You're looking for creamy and delicate flavours in this layer, if I'm reading you right. -third layer: huckleberry jelly (compote with gelatine, or perhaps try a hard-pectin set, sort of like PDF) -fourth layer: disc of brioche crouton, cut to shape. This is added when the huckleberry layer is almost but not entirely set, so that it sticks in well and becomes part of the mold, rather than simply a support. You'd come out with a triple-layer mold on a brioche base, sort of like how the best dessert mousses are set up (well, here at least); the crouton on the bottom will make it much easier to plate the final results, and will also give you just a hint of crunch in each bite, which looks like it was an essential part of the original dish. Thanks, you've described what I'm looking for to a "t." What is the flavor of palmito? I forgot to mention that the Foie Gras Mousse I use has chopped black truffles in it. Do you think the flavor of the truffle changes things in terms of the other gel layers? Palmito (heart of palm) is fairly difficult to describe. It's a delicate flavour similar to heart of celery but with faint tropical notes; the part used in the mousse is already quite soft and creamy, and combined with a hint of pimenton de la vera it's basically the vegetable equivalent of a really really good beschamel made with nata (the cream of the cream). It's normally sold as 4" long sections of heart in light brine to preserve it; for mousse one can either chop or puree the whole heart or cut it in half and use only the creamy center (which is what I do, and what the French would do - they regard the outer layers as somehow lacking, although those layers, being slightly more fibrous, are great in salads). I don't think that the presence of black truffle will change much in the way of the other gel layers, but it does convince me that palmito is the way to go in the cream layer, if you can source it. I keep forgetting that since Ecuador's a producer we've got palmitos coming out our ears, but the rest of the world regards it as a delicacy. Otherwise, Suaternes jelly will do well, or you could investigate making a heavy beschamel with shavings of truffle in it and gelling that with something like konjac or tapioca, neither of which seem to have issues with high-fat. Thanks for all the suggestions. I'll get to work on it this weekend.

What I'd be tempted to do is work from the top of the mold to the bottom: -first layer: Fois gras mousse -second layer: Sauternes jelly, or if you're feeling very rich, perhaps a palmito mousse? You're looking for creamy and delicate flavours in this layer, if I'm reading you right. -third layer: huckleberry jelly (compote with gelatine, or perhaps try a hard-pectin set, sort of like PDF) -fourth layer: disc of brioche crouton, cut to shape. This is added when the huckleberry layer is almost but not entirely set, so that it sticks in well and becomes part of the mold, rather than simply a support. You'd come out with a triple-layer mold on a brioche base, sort of like how the best dessert mousses are set up (well, here at least); the crouton on the bottom will make it much easier to plate the final results, and will also give you just a hint of crunch in each bite, which looks like it was an essential part of the original dish. Thanks, you've described what I'm looking for to a "t." What is the flavor of palmito? I forgot to mention that the Foie Gras Mousse I use has chopped black truffles in it. Do you think the flavor of the truffle changes things in terms of the other gel layers?

I'm lucky to have kept the older molds through the generations. When I see something in the kitchenware store, I buy it. I often don't use the molds for their intended purpose-say pastry. Often these little molds are perfect for garnishes, side dishes--and Jell-O!

As I move toward more contemporary dishes using gels, I need a few suggestions. Every Fall when the huckleberry crop shows its glory in our Farmer's Markets, one of the dishes I make is a batch of Huckleberry Compote. The Compote is incredibly delicious when paired with foie gras mousse and buttered brioche. The play of rich foie gras and tart, sweet huckleberries is a dish for the ages. I'm thinking of changing things up from my traditional presentation-layers of Brioche Croutons topped with alternating layers of Foie Gras Mousse, (pressed in a ring mold), then a spoonful of Huckleberry Compote on top. You could say this is an upscale version of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. But I think I can take it to a new level employing gel techniques. Here's the traditional presentation- So if I prepared the ingredients in a mold, what would you think about these layers of flavors? -Bottom layer, Huckleberry Compote combined with gelatine. -Second layer, Sauternes Jelly? -Top layer, Foie Gras Mousse -Garnishes, Brioche, (Cut in wedges), Huckleberry Compote around the plate. The idea is to dip your spoon into the top layer of foie gras and the first taste is rich and decadent, then you sens the second layer of sweet, silky Sauterne, and a final layer burst of flavor from tart, fragrant huckleberries. Any suggestions or thoughts on the technique or flavor combinations?

Here's a fresh oyster paired with Bloody Mary Aspic. I made it as part of our latest Cook-Off here- http://forums.egulle...75#entry1892575

Borrowing again from the past, my second dish was based on a recipe I developed about 10 years ago-a marriage of all things delicious-vodka, tomato juice and oysters. I call it the "Bloody Mary Aspic." I thought about encasing the oyster in the aspic, but given the ruddy color of tomato aspic, the natural shape of the oyster wouldn't be visible. I thought about putting a little mold of aspic next to the oyster, but that didn't make sense because this is meant to be an oyster shooter-a one-shot gulp of oyster, aspic and Bloody Mary flavors. The next question was a simple one-how to garnish the oyster and the aspic. So relying on some people who know food, they simply pointed out what the traditional garnish is for a Bloody Mary-celery. The recipe starts with the basic two-step aspic process. First, I made a hot mixture of spicy tomato juice. The hot mixture was then blended into a cool mixture composed of gelatine and tiny diced vegetables. The ingredients are- 1 cup V8 Juice 1/2 cup chopped onion 1/3 cup chopped celery 1 tbsp. brown sugar 1/2 tsp. salt 2 cloves garlic, chopped 1/4 tsp. paprika 1/4 tsp. dried red pepper flakes 1 bay leaf 1 tsp. Old Bay seasoning 4 whole cloves Combine in a saucepan and bring to a boil. Reduce the heat and simmer for 10 minutes- While the first mixture is cooking, in another bowl combine- 2 envelopes unflavored gelatine 1/2 cup V8 Juice 1/2 cup clam juice 2 tbsp. fresh lemon juice 1/2 cup finely diced celery 1/2 cup vodka 1/3 cup chopped cilantro 1 tbsp. fresh ground black pepper 1 tbsp. finely diced fresh jalapeno Salt to taste Strain the hot liquid into the second bowl and stir to combine- Pour the tomato aspic into individual serving molds, (or in this case, spread it thin on a cookie sheet lined with parchment. Once the tomato aspic is chilled, you just scoop it off the cookie sheet and use it to garnish the oysters)- I used fresh Willapa Bay oysters that are harvested off the Oregon Coast. These little nuggets have a briny, salty, fresh sea taste-which pairs wonderfully with the spicy, rich, tang of the Bloody Mary Aspic-