Thursday, October 17, 2002

It’s been one of those mornings when I just couldn’t manage to get myself dressed.  You know those mornings?  My husband, unfortunately, doesn’t, so I get no sympathy at home.  Anyway, now I have to be off to work, like, now, so we’re going to have a short blogging experience today.  Which is probably about all that Coquilles St. Jacques a la Provençale deserves. The problem is not in the recipe, of course; it’s in me.  I am not worthy of Julia, perhaps. (Wow, it just now occurred to me that perhaps I took on the Julie/Julia Project out of some deeply repressed masochism, a need so deviant and deranged that the humiliations of everyday life were no longer adequate to feed it.  This probably occurred to all of y’all awhile back, huh?) Anyway, I do think it was an execution problem.  Or rather, a combination of execution and less than divine ingredients.  Nigella, in her article for the New York Times yesterday, distinguished between Italian cooking – the simple, “fine ingredients treated with respect” school – and the French philosophy, which Nigella sums up thusly: “cooking [is] a transformational act: any foodstuff, no matter how humble, could, through loving attention, long hours of simmering and a great deal of skill (and butter) be turned into something heart-stoppingly delicious.”  That’s a philosophy I can get into (one I think the Cajuns share), but this here dish, I can’t help thinking, would have been better with the luscious pillowy white scallops from Jefferson Market, rather than the sorry, slightly stinky, specimens Eric was able to get from the Greek restaurant-cum-seafood place by his work in Long Island City.  But I’m passing the buck.  Ultimately, the problem was me. A couple of things went wrong.  First, I let the onion, shallot and garlic mixture saute for too long, so the garlic got a little bitter.  Then – and I think this is the kicker --  I didn’t get the butter and oil hot enough before I put the scallops dredged in flour in the skillet.  So the flour absorbed all the fat instead of browning nicely.  I then put in the vermouth and the onion mixture and let the scallops simmer a few minutes – less than the five minutes Julia suggested, because Julia has yet to earn my trust on the fish or vegetable cooking time front – and scooped them out into a casserole dish.  I sprinkled them with swiss cheese and butter (on an aside, I think I really need to break down and buy some good swiss cheese (gruyere?), because this Western Beef stuff just ain’t cuttin’ it), and ran it under the broiler. The result was sort of just mealy and bland.  I felt like I could taste the flour.  Even the always-kind Eric had trouble thinking up anything nice to say. Oh well.  Everyone deserves a few off nights during the Julie/Julia Project. Speaking of off nights, tonight is Eric’s Spicy Thursday.  Carnitas Enchiladas are the plan, but I fear Eric may not know what he’s getting himself into.  We may be having Eric’s Spicy Pizza Nite. 8:03:52 AM    comment []