carswell

Elie's got it right, though the rosemary's optional. Some recipes tell you to marinate the steak in — or brush it with — olive oil before grilling. Don't. The oil is a seasoning and the heat destroys its flavour.

Depending on what you mean by setting, the Lion d'or, the funky art deco hall located next to Au Petit Extra might fill the bill. The 'hood leaves something to be desired, however. Question: what kind of price range are you looking at?

Ignorance doesn't preclude daring (or is it presumptuousness?). And here's proof: a recipe I developed a few years ago when facing a surfeit of salmon. While the dish has proved popular with guests and friends, none are experts in Indian cooking. So I'd be interested in feedback from the august members of this forum (the September ones, too ). Care to critique this recipe? And tell me, is it unorthodox to combine fish and yogurt? For what it's worth, I often serve this with palak or phali aaloo (potatoes cooked with spinach or green beans). And it's one of the rare instances where I actually prefer Pacific salmon to Atlantic. Brochettes of Salmon Marinated in Yogurt and Indian Spices About 1 pound skinless salmon filet, cut into 1½-inch chunks (you should have around 16 chunks) 1 cup whole-milk yogurt 1–2 fresh chiles, seeded and minced Scant 1/2 teaspoon anise seeds 1/2 teaspoon cumin seeds 1/2 teaspoon coriander seeds 1/2 teaspoon yellow mustard seeds 8 green cardamon seeds, hulled 1 clove 10 black peppercorns Fresh ginger, a piece about the size of the first joint of your thumb 2 green peppers, cored and cut into 1½-inch squares 1–2 medium onions, preferably red, peeled and cut into 1½-inch squares Sea salt Place the spices in a small skillet and fry over medium-high heat until toasted. Transfer to a mortar or grinder and grind to a coarse powder. In a nonreactive bowl, combine the spices, chiles, yogurt and ginger, either squeezed through a garlic press or finely minced. Add the salmon, cover and refrigerate at least 1 hour, preferably 4 or 5. When ready to cook the fish, take a skewer and on it thread a piece of pepper, a piece of onion and a piece of fish (the fish should be only lightly coated with yogurt). Repeat three times so that the skewer has four pieces of salmon on it. End with a piece of onion and pepper. Repeat for the other skewers. Grill the brochettes over a medium fire or broil them close to a preheated broiler 2–3 minutes a side, 10–11 minutes in all. Season with salt and serve. Two to four servings edit: Oh, and can anyone suggest a less prosaic name for the recipe?

Confession time: I'm a sparkling shiraz virgin. And I haven't enjoyed 98% of the shirazes I've tasted. But I've come into possession of a bottle of Hardys non-vintage and it prompts some questions, to wit: Which sparkling shirazes are considered models of the genre? Is there a region that stands out? I assume the Hardys is run-of-the-mill stuff; is that right? When, in the sense of at what age, is the best time to drink sparkling shirazes? Is the aging curve anything like that for regular shirazes or champagne? Where? Are these wines for festive occasions? For drinking outdoors (i.e. picnic and barbecue wines)? Do they have a place at the dinner table? At a fancy dinner table? How? Which temperature should the wine be served at? What kind of glass should it drunk from — a standard red "Bordeaux" glass, a "Burgundy" balloon, a flute, a standard white wine glass? (It's shocking but true: there is no Riedel sparkling shiraz glass!) Why? Getting into subjective territory here but... Why bother drinking sparkling shiraz? Is it more than a curiosity? And another which for you. Which foods go best with sparkling shiraz? For the Hardys sparkler, I've been toying with the idea of a rich, mildly spiced lamb curry like a roghan josh or maybe a dish involving pesto rosso, a rough purée of sun-dried tomatoes, black olives, garlic, herbs, dried chiles and olive oil. Would the wine work with either of those? TYVM!

Great advice. But minimal oak? Everything is relative, I guess. While Ridge may not be as over the top as the "Care for some zin with your oak juice?" winemakers, the oak regimen isn't exactly minimal. Indeed, a healthy shot of American oak is a key component of the Draper perfume™.

Just about any place with a bar is going to be hospitable. In addition to APDC, Leméac (tho' they've always seated me at a table) and sushi bars, I've enjoyed solo dinners at Café Ferreira Trattoria, L'Express and Casa Tapas. Globe, Rosalie and Brunoise have bars too, but I can't vouch for the barstool experience there (however, Brunoise's Zach recently told me that they now accept reservations for the bar). A Chowhounder has suggested Aux Cépages in Old Montreal, somewhere I've never been. The other strategy is to dine outside of peak periods: early, late or on Sundays through Wednesdays. Thanks for the tip about La Veille Prune. I love that stuff.

While Happy Valley looks like a good bet, you're almost certain to find the dried flowers at herbalists and other stores that carry herb tea ingredients in bulk. Here in Montreal, my neighbourhood "health food" store stocks them. Just make sure you're getting a variety intended for making tea, not potpourris.

I don't find that's the case if you peel the husk back, silk the cobs and then reinstall the husk. The husk then hangs loosely on the cob, allowing the smoke to infiltrate. Water soaking is advisable with this approach to prevent the husk from burning. Leaving the husks on makes the cobs easier to handle while cooking (less slippery) and the kernels less likely to burn. Also, the loose husks cool quickly. Presilking makes them somewhat less messy at the table. Another thing I like about the approach is that there's no added fat; it's healthier and neater.

There are at least two ways to go about this. The one I normally use is to peel back but not detach the husk (leave it attached at the bottom), remove the silk and reinstall the husk. Then put the ears in a bowl of cold water (with ice if possible) and stick the bowl in the fridge for at least an hour. Just prior to grilling, drain the ears. Grill over a hot flame, turning frequently, until the husk is brown all over and black in spots. Taste. The kernels should be tender and have a slightly smoky flavour. The other way is to blanch the husked ears in boiling salted water for a couple of minutes. Drain and then grill over a medium flame until tender, turning constantly and keeping an eye peeled for burning. Even so, the kernels will turn brown and black in a few places. My favourite way to eat grilled corn is Indian style, liberally sprinkled with fresh lime juice and a mixture of sea salt and cayenne. And in a thread on the Indian cooking forum, Monica Bhide mentions a Danish chile-lime butter that must be out of this world on corn.

Just wondering, Episure, if you've ever tried Joel Robuchon's trick of returning the warm potatoes to the pot (emptied of its water, of course), mashing them there and then drying them out over a medium flame for 4–5 minutes, sans oil and stirring constantly. Thanks, everyone, for your input. It's the kind of discussion that makes this forum so useful. Am really looking forward to making — and eating! — aloo tikki soon.

I grew some of that last year, too. A small bushy plant with spiky, silvery leaves and yellow-ochre yarrow-like flowers. Didn't survive our winter (Zone 5). As far as I can tell, it was Helichrysum angustifolium or maybe H. italicum. Never used it in cooking but the crushed leaves did smell something like curry powder. However, it reportedly has no place in Indian cooking. The green curry (or kari) leaves used in some Indian dishes are from the unrelated Murraya koenigii, a small tree. As for the rest of this discussion, I've been following it with interest as I was always under the impression that the spices for Indian curries were blended and ground for each dish, which is what I've always done. (I have a tin of curry powder in my pantry but use it only for Chinese and French dishes.) Colour me disabused!

Délicieux, though I'm not sure what the question is. BTW, an entry for the dessert appears on the Merriam-Webster website's new words page but spells it clafouti, i.e. without the final s. Whitman and Simon's Recipes into Type : A Handbook for Cookbook Writers and Editors says the final s is optional. Does anyone know the reasoning here? Do they think that clafoutis is the plural form only?!

Piling on... Rosenblum's top wines will keep for around five years but I don't find they improve much even within that time frame. Beyond five years, watch out. I opened my last bottle of the 1993 Hendry Vineyard a few months ago and it was a shell of its former self. Ditto the '94. Both wines were most enjoyable within two or three years of release. Based on my limited experience and much anecdotal evidence, Turley zins don't age. Even four or five years is pushing it. I suspect it's a question of balance or lack thereof (and the balancing act between extraction and alcohol that makes them so compelling in their youth ain't what I'm talking about). If you have nearly four cases (!), I'd suggest tracking them on a monthly basis and preparing to organize a blow-out at the first sign of crack-up. By the way, I love old zins and am only now beginning to open my Ridge Lytton Springs, Geyservilles and Essences from the early '90s. But, as Carolyn points out, they are exceptions. And bear in mind that the first two are essentially zin-dominated field blends containing a healthy percentage of grape varieties like petite sirah that provide tannic backbone and increase their aging potential. edit: it's sirah not syrah...

California green figs are in at the Jean-Talon Market. The stand just to the west of Chez Nino (Leopoldo? Leonardo?) has figues olympiques, humongous Greek black figs that are luscious enough to warrant the $1.50 sticker ($24 per case of 24, IIRC). The real find, though, was lobster mushrooms at Chez Nino and Chez Louis, the first I've seen in Montreal stores. Chez Louis calls them champignons crabe, a new one on me. Francophone mycologists I know refer to them as lactaires parasités or rusulles parasitées, depending on the species involved. Have also heard the surprising term dermatose des rusulles used, though I'm unsure whether it refers to the lobster mushroom per se or to the parasitic fungus that lobsters the host. I also hit every stall at the market in search of yellow (as opposed to white and yellow) sweet corn but not a single ear was to be found.

You should have checked www.saq.com before heading out, Gary. The monopoly doesn't carry it and my most knowledgable contact there doubts they ever have. Cultural differences are probably to blame. The market for it here would be very small. If it's any consolation, I doubt there's much market for Quebec's rotgut Caribou on the Rock.

Interesting. I just toss the blueberries with sugar (tho' sometimes none at all) and flavourings (usually cinnamon and/or lemon zest), pile them into a pie shell and bake. But I always use wild blueberries, which are tiny and not very juicy. Can see where cultivated berries would require a thickener.

Blueberries and lemon are a favourite combo. I sometimes add lemon zest or candied lemon peel to my blueberry pies. In a saucepan, partially smash a pint of blueberries and bring to a boil with with some sugar (1/4–1/3 cup) and a splash of water; simmer for 5 minutes; remove from heat and stir in another pint of blueberries; cool and use as a glaze for lemon pots de crème, lemon curd tartelettes, etc. The berries are also great mixed with peaches or nectarines in cobblers; I've had success with this one. One use I don't suggest is in clafoutis; the fruits are so small they seem to get lost. Truth be told, my favourite way to eat blueberries is fresh. A small bowl of wild blueberries with a dollop of crème fraîche or goat milk yogurt and a drizzle of blueberry honey is close to heaven.

Keep it seasonal. Fresh corn flans. Provençal tomatoes. Sautéed cherry tomatoes. Braised leeks or fennel finished with parmesan cheese. You get the idea.

Deep-frying is best, IMHO. But as I don't have a deep fryer or, sometimes when cooking an Indian feast, even a spare burner, I often go the oven route. About 2-3 minutes in a medium-hot oven (400ºF) does it, if I recall correctly. You can also approximate a deep fryer by filling a heavy skillet with 1/2 inch of oil and turning the papadam over half way through the cooking. Don't have a gas stove, unfortunately, so no comment on the open-flame method. You can do something similar on a barbecue, however; the larger heat source makes it easier to avoid uneven cooking. Just wondering: has anyone tried toasting papadams under the broiler?

On Sunday, Chez Louis had a few bunches of wild arugula, subtler and more complex in flavour than your run-of-the-mill rocket and shaped more like a small dandelion leaf. At the cash, they had plastic boxes of cultivated pourpier, which I believe is purslane. I combined the two and mounded them — along with ricotta salata shavings and pickled daisy buds (thanks, skunkbunny!) — atop a beet and orange carpaccio: a pretty (and pretty tasty) first course. It's high corn season, of course. Unfortunately, I didn't see any old-fashioned yellow corn. Ended up chosing what looked freshest, a white and yellow non-supersweet variety called Tentation. It was good but awfully mild. Is anyone selling yellow corn anymore? Oh, and Poissonerie Shamrock had an outdoor fryer set up, filling the air with deep-fried squid aromas. Lots of takers. What with the fish fry, the crepes, the merguez sandwiches and the occasional méchoui, Jean-Talon Market is turning into the city's prime street food destination. This trend should continue; it's an obvious draw. Dare we hope someone starts selling roasted chestnuts in the fall?

Forget the green horseradish. Do any local sushi joints serve the genuine article, the actual rhizome grown in mountain streams, plucked only days before and grated on a sharkskin grater on an as-needed basis? Failing that, are there any that use real wasabi paste, kept frozen in tubes until use? Failing that, do any local stores carry the product?

Dropped by the Signature store on Friday and chatted for a while with one of the clerks. The subject of New Zealand wines came up. The clerk offered the information that in May one of the SAQ's buyers attended a New Zealand wine event in Toronto and was extremely impressed by the quality of the wines, especially the rieslings and pinot noirs. With one exception, the clerk didn't know what, if anything, had been ordered. The exception was the Cloudy Bay sauvignon blanc, so sometime in the next year it should be on sale at the SAQ, probably the Signature store. And the closures will be twist caps (the SAQ approves). The clerk also said they'd tasted Joblot's Grand Marole, which they found surprisingly structured and in need of cellaring. Of course, the bottles are just off the boat and pinot noir is particularly susceptible to bottle shock, so final judgement should be postponed until the wine has had a chance to recover from the trip, about three months from now. They still have a few cases left. They received 600 bottles of each cuvée, less than last year's allotment but it's moving a bit more slowly because the Signature store is the only point of sale, whereas last year it was distributed through the Sélection outlets.

What address do they give for Le Tartarin, sf&m? Back in June, the owner told me that the resto was kaput. If the address is 4675 St-Denis, you've got a defunct card.

Never heard back from Matsuba, so last night I decided not to call but just schlepp up to VSL. At around 8:15 I arrived at the resto, which is located in an unprepossessing strip mall on the corner of Poirier and Grenet, one block east of Laurentian Blvd. I couldn't believe my eyes: they close at 8 p.m. on Thursday–Sunday and 7:30 p.m. on Tuesday and Wednesday. What a joke! I usually don't begin even thinking about dinner until 8. If they're going to have such odd business hours, why don't they print it on their menu or mention it on their answering machine message? Ended up doing take-out from Mikado on Monkland: excellent fish; decent rolls (a bit too new-fangled for me); problematic rice (good taste and texture but cohesion left something to be desired).

Although most recipes call for a half bottle or more, your friend could probably stretch his third bottle to make a marchand de vin sauce for an entrecôte (boned rib eye). Fry a 1-lb. steak in butter. Remove it from the pan, season generously with salt and pepper, and set aside (a plate in a warm turned-off oven with its door ajar is perfect). Throw out the butter in the pan. Add 3 minced shallots and sauté until they change colour. Add the wine, turn up the heat, and reduce by 1/3 to 1/2, scraping the pan to free up any tasty bits stuck to the bottom. If the meat has given off any juices, add them too. Off the heat, swirl in small pieces of butter (the French would use several tablespoons worth; you can get away with much less). Correct the seasoning. Pour over the steak and serve with french fried potatoes. Some people thicken the sauce with corn starch dissolved in a bit of wine; I don't like the texture that gives but your friend's milage may vary. The sauce can also be enriched with demi-glace if you happen to have some lying around.