French Cooking Class

For Paul's last birthday, I bought him (well, us) a French cooking lesson. We finally redeemed our class last Friday evening. We attended a class at Cook Au Vin, which is in Chicago. They make it very clear that while we are actually going to be cooking, we're able to drink some wine and have fun at the same time.

We cooked the Vuitton Menu, with a couple changes. We did a roasted mixed vegetable dish instead of the Tournee vegetables -- and we had a prune pudding instead of a lemon pie.

Our prune puddings cooling -- we had to make these first.

Paul and our chef/teacher for the evening

Prepping all the ingredients

Putting together our scallop appetizer (cooked in a ceramic shell)

Paul stirring the main dish (Hunter's Chicken)

The roasted vegetables awaiting dinner

The finished scallops!

Overall, I thought it was a fun and interesting class. We did learn some helpful techniques during the process, like the easiest way to dice an onion, which herbs should go in at the start of a sauce versus the end, and learned more about making a roux. I am always worried that my roux is too thick, but apparently that isn't as big of an issue as I made it!

I thought the food turned out pretty good (considering a bunch of novice chefs were the ones cooking everything!). Our chef was kind and very thorough in explaining why he did things. He also did a great job of managing all the craziness that ensued once people had taken down a couple bottles of wine! I would be interested in doing another class like this in the future and learning some additional techniques.

Chicken Marsala

I found an easy recipe on Epicurious for chicken marsala. We didn't have any mushrooms, which I typically like to include with chicken marsala, but this recipe worked out just fine without the mushrooms. 

I ended up cooking the recipe a little differently, as I missed the part of the recipe where it asks for "chicken breast halves, each halved horizontally." I just halved full-sized chicken breasts instead. As I started to move through the recipe, I realized that the cooking times for the chicken seemed awfully short (hello, food illness). 

In order to adjust for this, I ended up browning the chicken breast halves for about 6 to 7 minutes (for each batch), and then put them back all in the pan when the sauce was reducing. That helped greatly -- ensuring that the chicken was cooked through, and helping the sauce to infuse.

I also added a little more sage when browning the chicken, but I really love the flavors of sage.

Lesson Learned: Chicken Pot Pie

When the recipe calls for a 3 to 4 lb. chicken, don't buy a 7 lb. chicken. Because it won't fit in the biggest pot you have ( an "us" issue, as the 7.5 quart pot was clearly not big enough for a 7 lb. chicken to be submerged in water).

Precarious.

It will essentially double your cooking time (an "everyone" issue, as I assume most people like to eat dinner with in 4 hours of starting to prepare it) as well, as you try to cook down the chicken broth mixture you made with twice as much water, trying to cover your gigantic chicken.

It took forever, but it was pretty delicious (and we have lots of leftovers).  I also made up time by using thawed puff pastry instead of homemade pie dough, which cooks up super quick. 

Much better.

 The chicken pot pie recipe was used was from Mark Bittman's How to Cook Everything.

Update on Lentil Fritters

I tried to make lentil fritters again last week, and failed MISERABLY. I am totally confused. I've made the lentil fritters three times, using canned lentils twice and bagged lentils once. I purchased bagged lentils a second time for this recipe, and they were hard as rocks. I couldn't get them to do anything in the food processor (where they normally mush up into a paste to be combined with the remaining whole lentils to make the patties). 

I am baffled. I looked at both of the packages of bagged lentils (I had about a 1/2 cup leftover from the previous iteration), and they looked exactly the same. No mention of needing to soak anything (like you would dried beans) or that you'd have to do anything other than use them normally right out of the bag. 

The good guys.

Any thoughts? Paul took one look at the brick lentil patties, and opened the fridge to find something else. Back to canned lentils only, I guess.

April 18: Epic Fail, aka Sausage, Chard and Lemon Lasagna

Friends: it was bound to happen. A meal gone terribly wrong. This blog would be totally boring with out one, but I promise you -- I didn't throw this one. It was a valiant effort that failed miserably. I should have known by the recipe's comments (if you look at the linked recipe, you'll see what I mean). I almost always read the comments -- they usually have helpful tips and information about the recipe. But alas, I skipped reading them this time. And paid for it.

After getting swiss chard in our produce box, we decided to make a sausage, chard and lemon lasagna recipe I found online.

Some AWESOME looking rainbow chard. Pretty jazzy, huh?

I chopped up the swiss chard, removing the stems. Paul got to work cooking the meat. We used a sweet turkey sausage.

Meat makes everything better, right? Or at least saves a bad dish a little...

I worked on the white sauce -- flour, milk, cheese, salt and pepper. Everything seems to be going okay...and then we get to the lemons. The instructions tell you to take a thinly sliced lemon (note: nothing about taking the peel off), cover with water in a saucepan and boil for about 7 minutes. "Okay, " I'm thinking, "That probably softens them up and makes it easier to eat. I've never eaten the outside of a lemon. Weird, but I'll go with it." 

FATAL MISTAKE. I may have cut the lemons slightly thicker than "thinly sliced," but in no way were they thick slices.

You can see the culprits there in the background. Just sitting innocently waiting their turn. IT'S A RUSE. Et tu, lemons?

Unaware of imminent disaster, we carried on. I added the chard to the white sauce. 

Just hanging out, being tasty. No idea what was about to befall the lasagna.

Everything was ready to go -- the oven was preheated, so we started to assemble the lasagna. We had done regular lasagna noodles instead of the no-boil ones suggested. You layered noodle, meat, sauce, lemons, and so on.

Looking good so far...

We had more meat than sauce, so I was a little stingy with it. We filled the dish and had some leftover, so spilled into a smaller square baking dish. 

Still looking good. Can't complain...

You finish the dish with lemons, noodles, sauce, lemons.

I was like, "Wow! This could be really neat!" Stupid.

Right at this point, Paul received a call from a friend who had an extra ticket to the Bulls playoff game. He (unknowingly, but wisely) jumped ship to go to the game. The hot dog he ate was probably 100 times better than what was about to transpire in our kitchen.

The pasta cooked for the suggested 27 minutes, and I broiled it, topped with cheese for an additional 3 minutes. It doesn't look too bad here...

A little blurry, but you get the cheesy, melty point.

I was pretty hungry, and very excited to give this a try. You could smell the cheese and the cooked sausage, and it looked quite pretty. 

I took a big bite -- and immediately tasted the bitterness of the lemons. Oh man. It was not good. I tried another bite -- maybe I just had a weird part with more of the lemon than the other side. Nope. Still not good. Like REALLY not good. 

Save yourself, Paul!

I pulled off all the lemons as best I could, and was able to eat the rest. Some of the bitterness remained, but with the lemons being removed -- it was a heck of a lot better. Thankfully, the second, smaller batch did not have any lemons -- by some twist of fate, I had used them all on the first round -- and the second lasagna remained unscathed. My taste buds, not so much. 

Lesson learned: I should have trusted my instincts and cut the peel off. It doesn't appear to be a mistake in the recipe (the picture shows the lemons with their peels on), but were we to make this again (doubtful), I would definitely make that change. 

April 16: Grilled Salmon. Rosemary Polenta and Roasted Radicchio with Ricotta

For Saturday night dinner, I had some grilled salmon, rosemary polenta and some roasted radicchio on the menu.  I am in serious love with Ina Garten's Rosemary Polenta recipe and kind of want to make it all the time.While it not a difficult recipe to make, I (without fail) forget to include the "cooling" period between cooking up the polenta and being ready with the cold polenta to pan-fry. And therefore grossly underestimating how long it will be until we're ready to eat. Paul was planning to meet his guy friends out, and I was apparently pushing back his departure time.

It is approximately 7:30 p.m. (a normal time for us to eat or start to prepare dinner). The anxious commentary begins.

P: "Are you seriously just starting this now? It's going to take forever!"

C: "I told you this was what I was going to make! Why are you surprised? And it doesn't take that long." <-- blatant denial.

Unabated, I got the ball rolling melting the butter and olive oil on the stove. I am going to make it and it's going to be good and made quickly, dangit. 

Yeah. It's really healthy for you.

I clipped some rosemary from our planter to use for the recipe. 

P: "Well, tell me when I should start the grill for the salmon because that won't take very long." 

C: (audible sigh)

It was wise that he stayed in the living room while I chopped this.

After the butter is melted, you add in garlic, red pepper flakes (I only use about 1/2 a teaspoon because I only tasted red pepper flakes when I used the full one, rosemary, salt, and pepper. Following that is the half and half, chicken or vegetable stock, and milk. You then bring everything to a boil. 

The commentary temporarily subsides. I think Back to the Future III was on or something. 

Right now, I'm thinking, "I should have used a bigger pan."

You stir in the cornmeal until it is incorporated into the milk mixture. I found this didn't take very long to happen. Thank goodness, or someone may have had a coronary. 

P: "Seriously, how much longer?"
C: "I don't know. You are driving me bonkers."

After the polenta is mixed together, you add some Parmesan and then pour it into a 13" x 9" pan. 

P: "Are you going to put that in the fridge? You can't put it in hot. It will warm the fridge up."
C: (highly doubting the accuracy of that statement) "It's that what the fridge is for? To make things cold? How will it do that?"
P: "It's going to take too long! I'm already late! Why aren't we just eating it like that?"
C: (louder audible sigh)


In order to aid the cooling process (and to calm someone down), I ended up putting the polenta outside rather than let it cool on the countertop and then put it into the fridge.

Here's the polenta, you know, just checking out the neighborhood from our front balcony.

P: "Is it ready, yet? They are all already there!" <-- not verifiable
C: "JUST GO."


(He didn't. The polenta is persuasive.)

I had some leftover radicchio to make from the produce basket the week before, so I saw this recipe featured and decided to give it a whirl. I didn't have very much, so I tried to pare down the ingredients to the right proportions. I was also wondering if I even had radicchio, as most radicchio I have seen is more of a purple color. (I did. Phew.)

I brushed the leaves with olive oil and set them in the oven to broil. They cooked up VERY quickly (especially since I had such a small amount). 

After the radicchio was done roasting, I added it to the marinade and let it sit. Paul saw the light at the end of the tunnel, and began to cook the salmon.


After the polenta is cooled (via front balcony or fridge), you cut it into triangles, and pan fry it in olive oil and butter.

Do you SEE why I make this? IT'S COOKED IN MORE BUTTER AND OLIVE OIL.

Paul cooked the salmon on the grill for about 10-12 minutes. We used the single packages of frozen salmon a lot. They are really easy to make and can be defrosted in 15-20 minutes in a cold water bath if you forgot to pull them out of the freezer ahead of time. The salmon also had those neat little turkey timers, which help indicate when the fish is cooked through.

Bing! It's ready!

The polenta turned out great. Browning it in the pan makes the edges crispy, but keeps the middle soft and warm.  I think you could add even more fresh rosemary if you wanted. You definitely get the rosemary flavor, but it's not overpowering. I have concluded that the polenta goes well with pretty much everything -- we've had it now with fish, pork, chicken, with runny eggs in the morning. It also makes quite a big amount, so it lasts for many meals. 

Salmon was cooked just right -- not too mushy for me, and a little less cooked for Paul. Using the gas grill makes things a heck of a lot easier in terms of even heat and cooking time.

I was not a big fan of the radicchio -- I think it still came out really bitter, even though I would guess that the marinade and ricotta are supposed to help alleviate that. Maybe my ratio math was shoddy?

And yes, Paul made it out. He was like, "Do you want to come?" with his coat on and the door open. I almost said, "Yeah, I'll come. I just need to go fix my makeup and change..." but figured I had tortured him enough for one night.