carswell

Thinking of the bottle of sparkling shiraz that I recently speculated might pair nicely with an Indian lamb dish, I was intrigued by the marathi nalli gosht recipe that Monica linked to above. So on Saturday I picked up some lamb shanks and also, to my surprise, a copy of Indian Essence on sale at the neighbourhood French bookstore. (I agree with everyone's comments to date. The recipes look wonderful and doable, and the pictures are gorgeous. Why does every Indian cookbook have to have a recipe for tandoori chicken, however?) The only ingredient I don't have on hand is black cardamom; the roasted spice blend calls for two, along with eight green cardamom pods. The nearest store that sells them is about 20 minutes away. Do you think the final dish would suffer if I omitted the black cardamom? Are there any possible substitutes? Or am I best advised to spend the hour necessary to get a few of the big black pods? (Having just come down with a cold, I admit the spice's camphor-like aroma does not sound unappealing...)

Hi, Paula, As mentioned above, I went to Le P'tit Plateau last night (had a fabulous confit of lamb shank, a new dish that's quickly become one of the resto's best sellers). Chef Loivel confirmed that green flageolets are inauthentic for cassoulet. He also said that for cost reasons (imported tarbais and lingots would bust his budget), he's turned to cannelini, which he called rognons (kidneys). In terms of taste, he thinks they're fine if less refined than the classic French beans. His main problem is that there's no way to tell how old they are, and old beans cook unevenly and have a gritty/mealy texture. After much experimentation, he has developed a cooking method that overcomes the problem (I can vouch for the results). I didn't try to pry it out of him, but if you'd like me to try, I'm game.

RN!'s got the basic procedure down pat, though I usually add a chopped garlic clove with the mirepoix and a bouquet garni with the wine. Also, I always finish it on the stove, never in the oven. And I tend to like the denser sauce that flouring the bird provides. Lastly, I often garnish with chopped parsley. A few things to bear in mind. First, it's coq au vin, not poulet au vin. As originally conceived, the recipe is for a tough old rooster that's reached the end of its productive life. Whence the long cooking in an acidic solution (tenderizes the meat) with added fat in the form of butter and bacon/salt pork (moistens the meat). That said, the couple of times I've made it with rooster, I wasn't enamoured with the results. The meat was tough, stringy and dry. Much the same thing happens to the breast meat from chicken if it's cooked as long as the legs, thighs, wings and backs. So, when preparing the dish with the parts of a whole chicken, I usually remove the breasts after browning and return them to the pot 20 minutes before the end. As often as not, I make the dish only with legs and thighs. Second, although everybody sees red when they think of coq au vin, it is also made with white wine. Coq au riesling is a treat. Coq au vin jaune is one of the glories of the Jura, where the mushrooms are invariably morels and the sauce usually includes cream. Third, the better the wine, the better the dish. In an ideal world, a bottle of Chambertin for the pot and one for the table, is more or less how Hugh Johnson put it. Lacking the funds for Chambertin, I usually turn to a not overly tannic, medium weight red like a generic Burgundy, a Beaujolais or a gamay or blend from the Loire. For coq au riesling, Alsace. Coq au vin jaune is a problem, as a decent bottle of yellow wine costs upwards of $50, but a friend and I have hit on a credible workaround: a blend of 2/3 inexpensive savagnin and 1/3 fino sherry. At the table, I pour the same wine used in cooking or a slightly better bottle. By itself, usually, though with plenty of good bread to sop up the sauce. Egg noodles are not to be sneezed at either.

Kriss's idea of the Vin Gris de Cigare is intriguing (and with his knowledge of the LCBO, he must have spent time in the Big Nickel or environs...). Still, I'm pretty sure I'd reach for a white with a hint of residual sugar in it from Italy — a pinot grigio, say, or a Soave (Pieropan's La Rocca for a treat) or maybe Mastroberardino's Lacryma Christi — or France — a chenin blanc from the Loire or a marsanne/roussanne/viognier blend from the south (the 2001 Château Saint Martin de La Garrigue, a Coteaux de Languedoc, and Coudoulet de Beaucastel white are two excellent wines that I've recently enjoyed and either would do the trick). New world analogues like Phelp's Pastiche would work, too.

Just to make sure we're on the same wavelength here, whether it's a cross or a slit, the cut goes through the shell, right? And, yes, once heated, the shell is easy to remove. But what's a royal pain in the butt (not to mention under the thumbnails) to peel is the thin brown inner skin that clings tightly to the nut meat. Unless you guys are doing something I'm not, cutting the shell doesn't make that any easier to remove. But, hey! Looking over the Larousse Gastro's chestnut entry for the first time, I read: Anyone tried this technique?

Haven't read the article, but if the balance isn't perceptible, what's the point? As for marinating time, I can't say I've noticed a difference in the flavour of 30-40 minute ceviche and that of the one-hour version, but then again I've never tasted them side by side. Aside from the stuff that gives parasitoligists nightmares, my big fears with scallop and delicate fish ceviche are overpowering the flesh with other flavours, including the citrus, and toughening the texture by over-long marinating. I agree about adding chiles and shallots at the start, to soften their bite and meld their flavours (especially important with a sweet-fleshed shellfish like scallops, which benefit from the perking up). "Soft" flavourings like cilantro and tomato I add just before serving.

While the French may not agree on which bean is best for cassoulet, I've never heard or seen anyone suggest using green flageolets. Googling recette flageolets cassoulet (i.e. recipe flageolets cassoulet) returns 86 hits. Looking at the relevant pages, I found several that contained references like "lingots du nord (flageolets)," "flageolets (type Soissons)" and "flageolets blancs," all of which are larger white beans, not the tiny pale green flageolets. Only one recipe, found on several sites, called for unspecified flageolets, and that was a vegetarian cassoulet involving olives and potatoes and baked for a grand total of 45 minutes. Also, as the Larousse Gastro entry points out, green flageolets are of Breton origin, with the modern day production centres being there and in central France, whereas cassoulet is a dish of the southwest. I'm having dinner tomorrow at Le P'tit Plateau, whose chef, Alain Loivel, hails from Bordeaux; I'll get chapter and verse from him and report back. In the meantime, maybe Paula Wolfert will see this thread and chime in. Some French websites refer to American tarbais beans but I've never encountered any on this side of the pond. That said, a wide variety of French-grown dried beans can be purchased here in Montreal, often labelled with the year of harvest. I don't find them in any way inferior to those sold in France. Pricier, yes, inferior, no. Usually I make make cassoulet with French lingots du nord, which I buy in bulk. I'll be keeping an eye peeled for the haricots de Pamiers, though. None of which is to say you're wrong in preferring green flageolets for your cassoulet. Unorthodox, maybe. But if it feels good... Am unfamiliar with the trout bean. Will keep an eye peeled for that, too. Dunno. Work has kept me from reading it. But will do so soon (thanks for the link, Fifi!).

In Julia Child & Company, JC says, "Cover and marinate (let sit) in the refrigerator for half an hour, or until serving time." Thirty minutes has always worked for me. Her marinade consists of lime juice, salt, pepper, minced shallots or scallions and minced parsley. Lime juice is great but so is grapefruit, seville orange or meyer lemon juice or various combinations thereof. Edit: "Wash and drain the scallops to remove possible sand. Dipping a sharp knife in cold water for each cut, slice them crosswise (across the grain) into pieces 3/16 inch (0.75 cm) thick." Edit: The citric acid will cause the scallops' colour to change to a more opaque white, similar to what happens when they're cooked. The scallops are ready to eat as soon as the colour has changed all the way through, though no harm comes from lettting them sit a while longer.

Please excuse the self-reference, but here are some ideas I posted on another board a few years ago: Peeling is the biggest hassle. I wonder how manufacturers of vacuum-packed, glazed and puréed chestnuts do it. Anyhoo, once peeled, you might cook, purée and can or freeze them for later use. Or maybe you could vacuum-pack whole nuts like the French packages that can be bought in gourmet stores for an arm and a leg.

You're right, Salomon, that what sticks in the gaw isn't the refusal to accept a group but the dishonest explanation. And not only does it turn one off, it sows the seeds of doubt. Say in the future you get a reservation for two, turn up at the appointed hour and are told they have no record of your call. Are you going to believe it's an honest mistake or wonder whether they deliberately overbooked or gave your table to a friend of the chef's who showed up at the last minute? If you can't trust their answer on the phone, how do you know that the chewy veal on the menu isn't really pork in disguise? Honesty is the best policy — it's been proven time and time again — and yet people in positions of power, be they maître d's or politicians, just don't get it. Only you can determine whether forgoing the fantastic QPR that Le Bouchon provides is worth the satisfaction of giving them the finger and walking away, never to return. Maybe the fact that you've brought their transgression to the world's attention will assuage your anger? Group therapy is good for you!

White muscat grapes are green (despite the name) and seeded, though a seedless variety is sometimes grown. Chasselas, a popular green/white table grape in France and Switzerland, is seeded, too. Both grapes are also used to make wine.

Run the grapes through a food mill fitted with the disk with the smallest holes. This purées the grapes but leaves the seeds and peels behind.

All haricot-type beans are descended from New World varieties. According to the Larousse Gastro, they were brought to Europe in the 1400s. Pope Clement VII may have indirectly introduced them to France, as he gave some to his niece, Catherine de' Medici, as a present when she wed the future Henri II. Contemporary descriptions make them sound like romano or cranberry beans. "Flageolets ... were produced by chance in 1872 by Gabriel Cheavrier, who lived near Arpajon [in Brittany]. (Flageolets are therefore also known as chevriers in France." Arpajon remains a centre of production. Salting on the basis of the bean's origin is new to me. Looking through a few cookbooks, the only mention of the issue I find is in Chez Panisse Vegetables: "Do not salt simmering dried beans until at least halfway through the cooking, since salt inhibits water penetration, lengthening the cooking time and, depending on the bean, toughens the skin." Will read through the referred thread when I can find half an hour...

Whew! Now all we need to do is find out whether RK's flageolets are green or white. I've been assuming the former. Speaking of green cassoulet, a French cookbook I recently acquired, Le meilleur de la cuisine française, has a recipe for cassoulet toulousain aux fèves made with fresh fava beans. The recipe looks good — though the thought of skinning 1.2 kg's worth of shelled favas gives pause — but, to go by the picture, the end result doesn't look like cassoulet. Not only is the dominant colour emerald green, there's no hint of a crust!

You're opening a real can of worms here, Tillie! Heated debate about the proper bean for cassoulet is a longstanding tradition in France (if I recall correctly, Root discusses it in detail in The Food of France). Most modern day French recipes I've seen call for lingot or tarbais beans, though the much rarer haricots de Pamiers are said to be best due to their skin's resistance to splitting. The most common North American substitute is great northern or white kidney beans. The thing all these beans have in common is that they're white. But I've never seen anyone propose making cassoulet with little green flageolets. OK, I stand corrected: googling turns up 126 pages. Still, pretty small potatoes in the scheme of things, no? Are you talking about the big white lingots du nord, which are sometimes called flageolets blancs, or the genuine article, the small, pale green flageolet?

Assuming these are dried, cook them as follows: Pick over the beans, removing foreign matter and damaged beans. Rinse well. Cover with cool water and oak for a few hours or overnight in the fridge (some people skip this step; I find the beans cook more evenly if you don't). Drain. Cover well with cool water. Bring to a boil, turn down to a simmer. Skim until there is no more scum. If you like, add a bouquet garni (fresh thyme, a bay leaf, parsley stems wrapped in cheesecloth or a leak "leaf") and aromatic vegetables (carrot, halved onion stuck with cloves, garlic, leek). Simmer until tender, usually 1-2 hours. Don't add salt until toward the end; it toughens the skins. Flageolets are a traditional accompaniment to lamb roasts and sautés. I also like them with duck confit and full-flavoured sautéed fish like salmon. Just reheat them in a bit of their cooking juice or cream, with or without some diced cooked bacon. For a Lyonnaise version, sauté onions in butter before adding the beans, cover, heat through and sprinkle with chopped parsley. Another favourite prep is a gratin: place the drained beans in a baking dish, add some cream, sprinkle with unflavoured bread crumbs, dot with butter and heat until bubbling (if the bread crumbs begin to darken past golden brown, cover the dish with aluminum foil). You can also purée them, though that fate is usually reserved for white beans.

Many of the above. And a few dishes I make only in the fall because the ingredients are available, affordable or locally in season only then: - pork neck/shoulder stew with leeks (a dozen leeks costs $4 in October, $12-15 in March) - sautéed apples, preferably local golden delicious, as a side for duck and pork dishes or slightly caramelized and tucked into a omelet flammed with Calvados - buttercup squash halved, cavity filled with a sausage-based stuffing, and roasted - baked apples, stuffed with nuts and raisins and topped with marc de gewurztraminer sabayon - grape cake made with red wine grapes or concord grapes - fresh fig tart - guinea hen braised with green figs - chestnuts, especially braised in red wine with bay leaves - oily fish (makerel, blue fish), usually baked, often with tarragon - oysters any way - brussels sprouts, sautéed with bacon or braised with pecans - a last-hurrah orgy of end-of-season vegetables (tomatoes, peppers, zucchini, wild mushrooms, green beans, chard, arugula, cukes, eggplants) and fruits (berries, peaches, plums) - roasts (no airconditioning, so the oven stays off most of the summer)

As far as I know, the articles can't be downloaded without having a subscription to Medline or some such, so I've not read anything except the abstracts. If I find the time, maybe I'll drop by one of the local medical libraries some day. However, I think we can safely assume that the studies take into account factors like air pollution and cigarette smoking. You're probably right that, for most of us, it's not something to worry about. On the other hand, as one of the abstracts states, it's easy to take precautions. I find myself turning on the hood fan and opening the kitchen window more often these days, especially when stir-frying and doing any cooking-related activity — roasting, searing or burning splattered fat off my stove's electric burners, for example — that generates fat-related vapours. Even if the health benefits are nil, it makes for a cleaner kitchen.

Arctic char is a lake fish for at least part of its life. From the Simply Seafood site linked to above: And Nettiling Lake trout are called omble arctique du Lac Nettiling. Or it could be a misnomer. Related fish also carry the omble moniker. For example: - omble amérique, omble gris (aka touladi, truite grise) = popular names for lake trout (Salvelinus namaycush) - omble de fontaine (aka truite mouchetée, truite saumonée, etc.) = brook trout, speckled trout (S. fontinalis) - omble à tête plate = bull trout (S. confluentus)

English: Arctic char. Synonyms: Arctic charr, Arctic salmon, mountain trout, charr, Quebec red trout (regional usage limited to Quebec). French: omble chevalier. Synonyms: omble arctique, omble alpin, omble de l'Arctique, ilkalupik, iqaluk, truite rouge du Québec (regional usage limited to Quebec). Latin: Salvelinus alpinus. Arctic char - Alaska Department of Fish and Game Arctic char - simplyseafood.com

No, bavette is flank steak. Hampe and onglet are skirt and hanger respectively. And in all three cases, the French and American terms refer to more or less identical cuts because, for once, the American cuts are individual muscles, like French cuts, and not cross-sections.

Three factors, health considerations aside. And the health considerations are not limited to concerns about cholesterol. A few years ago, I received the following in a mailing from a now-defunct newsgroup. I post this for information and discussion purposes only, not because I have an opinion on the subject, and I hope it doesn't come across as alarmist. The author of the first two paragraphs is Dr. Mel C. Siff of Denver, CO. The abstracts come from the articles reporting the results of the studies.

It comes down to three factors: smoke point, taste and cost. Since stir-frying is done over high heat, you want an oil with a high smoke point. So, if your vegetable oil is made from a high smoke point oil, no problem. Taste is subjective. I like the flavour that Lion & Globe adds to some dishes and I like the French peanut oil's neutral flavour in other situations. On the other hand, canola oil has a slightly fishy odour and taste that I don't particularly care for and that isn't always masked in simple dishes like egg-fried rice. Similarly, the flavour of olive oil strikes me as exotic in Chinese cooking. Your milage may vary, of course. The cost factor is probably the least important. Still, I find peanut offers the best combination of high smoke point, flavour (or lack thereof) and affordability.

Peanut. Lion & Globe when I want to taste the goobers; otherwise Finesse, an inexpensive French peanut oil.

Not to be disputatious, but the araignée is not the same cut as the skirt (hampe in French). You're right that skirt steaks are part of the diaphragm. So are hanger steaks. Here are the skirt and back steak (aka hanger steak) definitions from the CFIA site: "Skirt [hampe, click on the Français link at the top of the page to display the French-language analogue]: thin muscular part of the diaphragm adjacent to the ribs. Back steak [onglet]: thick muscular part of the diaphragm adjacent to the spinal column." As my butcher said — and as the few websites that discuss it indicate — the araignée comes from the upper rump/round, above the pelvis and behind the diaphragm. It's a different shape from the skirt and is associated with another cut, the fausse araignée (there's no such thing as a fausse hampe or false skirt). Also, the Latin names of the muscles are different: hampe/skirt is diaphragma (pars costalis sternalis); onglet/hanger is diaphragma (crus dextrum sinistrum); araignée is obturatorius internus; and fausse araignée is obturatorius externus. (See, for example, the United Nations Interpretation Service's French-English-Latin Meat Glossary). As I said above, I hope to find a diagram of the various cuts or, failing that, drop by my butcher's with a digicam some day when he can show us the cuts in situ.