Wednesday, May 07, 2003

What is it with me and Julia’s desserts?  I simply cannot make myself begin the beguine with the damned soufflés.  Which is odd, since I really loved many of the savory soufflés.  But on the other hand perhaps for the best, since the three Crepes Farcies avec chicken liver fillings seems to have dispensed with the tiresome routine of digestion and just taken up residence directly in my upper arms. So one of the great advantages of pink-eye, especially when it seems to be one of several indications of an office-wide plague, is that it provides ample opportunity for creative malingering.  However, that advantage is somewhat lessened by the inability to leave the house without frightening people.  Except to go to the post office; one is never too hideous to go to the post office.  Where was picked up Eric’s mom’s anniversary present to us.  Two CDs – Hawaiian ukelele music from a girl duo from Tokyo, and a Brazilian woman singing bossa nova-flavored Beatles tunes in Portuguese.  If anyone has any ideas as to what these gifts say about either my family or my marriage, I’d prefer if you’d keep it to yourself. Another advantage of staying home until your eye unglues is that you can make the crepe batter with ample time to chill it for the two hours Julia recommends.  Too bad it doesn’t seem to make a bit of difference.  In fact, this was the first time in awhile that I, recently-crowned Crepe Queen, had the sticking trouble that plagued me the first time round.  I don’t know if it was a pan-greasing problem or a not-sticking-the-batter-in-the-freezer-in-a-desperate-attempt-to-chill issue, but I fucked up two, and had to wash the pan after each fucked-up attempt, before managing to get into the crepe-making rhythm.  Which, because I had gotten started just a tad late because of some ill-considered Civilization, and also because, of course, Buffy, provoked a short-lived but intense fit of angst. But whatever, I got the crepes done.  I got also the filling done.  These fillings have become too easy to really talk about – the hardest part was keeping the cats of the chicken livers while I chopped them.  I sautéed them in butter and set them aside, then went ahead with the filling base – a roux of butter and flour, boiling milk beat in, boil a minute.  Beat in egg yolk, grated swiss cheese, chicken livers, butter.  Tha’s it.  Once the crepes were done, I just spooned some filling into the bottom third of each one, rolled them up, and crisped them up a bit in some butter.  When you make them up, if you’re a Texan like me you can’t help thinking they need some kind of sauce, they look like nekkid enchiladas, but just remember, these are stuffed with a chicken liver sauce that possesses a thirty-two years half-life.  No sauce necessary. (By the way, I’d just like to say how pleased I am that there’s a vocal pro-chicken-liver contingent out there.  Stay loud, stay proud!) Also made some salad, which I improvised, which is always a good feeling.  Started by browning some bacon, because of course any great salad starts with good, honest pork fat treated with respect.  Took out the bacon strips threw some sliced red onion into the fat and immediately turned the heat off, so the onions didn’t get too too cooked.  Squeezed in lemon juice.  Tossed in the baby spinach leftover from the Sauce Riviera I made this weekend.  Tossed all that in a bowl with the crumbled up bacon and that mixture of queso fresco, mint, onion and basil that I’d made to stuff in the jalapenos for Cinco de Mayo. God, I just realized – I hate it when people blather on about “Oh, I threw together this divine mahi mahi zucchini flower risotto the other day,” yak yak yak.  Sorry.  I guess I’m beginning to understand the impulse – after being so goddamned cookbook dependent my whole life, it makes me proud to “throw something together.”  Not that it was that good or anything.  Though certainly, it was a much needed foil to the crepes. I’m done with all the crepe fillings now.  For each desirable dish I make, I’m putting myself one step closer to the abyss of organ meats and glaceed fruit desserts, but I can’t help myself.  We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. Tonight, I hope, a bit of a blowout.  Eric’s brother is venturing out to Long Island City, where will be had veal stew and camembert biscuits and vanilla soufflé for all.  Unless I wimp out again.   7:33:43 AM    comment []