Summer Solstice Feast 07

The first day of summer is June 21 but the season begins for us officially when we gather the usual suspects for our Summer Solstice feast (always held as close to the 21st as possible).

Summer bounty is not yet at its peak in June but the menu always revolves around a light entree (it's been chicken 7 out of 10 times) and simple preparations that allow the ingredients to shine. ChouChou and John are in charge of the dinner wine, The Boys always provide the "pudding" and we do the rest.

This year we began with a classic aperitif of olives and salted peanuts, accompanied by what I called a Clafoutis Cocktail. I used the reserved juice from the clafoutis I'd made the night before and mixed a tablespoon of juice in a glass of champagne. It was a brilliant garnet color and very delicious.

Then we sat down to the amuse bouche, wild mushroom dumplings in a gorgeous tomato sauce.

Won Ton and Wild Mushroom Amuse Bouche
12 won ton wrappers
1/2 c. dried wild mushrooms, rehydrated
2 T. butter
4 cloves garlic, minced
2 T. dry Vermouth
1 T. fresh thyme leaves
1 shallot, finely chopped
½ c. heavy cream
3 t. tomato paste
fresh thyme sprigs for garnish

Rehydrate the mushrooms in a bowl of warm water. When mushrooms have plumped up, remove and gently squeeze out the excess water. Reserve the "mushroom juice" and rough chop the mushrooms.

In a skillet over medium high heat, sauté the mushrooms and 3 garlic cloves in 1 T. butter; add 1 T. of the Vermouth and continue cooking until all the liquid is absorbed. Add the thyme and 1 T. or so of the mushroom juice and gently cook until liquid is absorbed. Remove from heat.

Place approximately 1 t. mushroom mixture in the center of each won ton. With your finger, moisten edges of wonton wrapper and gather together to form a purse. Seal the edges.

To make the sauce, melt remaining 1 T. butter in a skillet over medium high heat. Add the shallot and 1 garlic clove and sauté until translucent. Add the Vermouth, whipping cream and tomato paste. Continue cooking until cream coats the back of a spoon. Remove from heat and add salt and pepper to taste.

Just before serving, bring a large pan of water to the boil and pop wonton purses into rapidly boiling water for about 1 minute. Remove from heat and drain won tons. Place a dollop of sauce on serving plate, put a single wonton on plate, garnish with sprigs of fresh thyme and serve.

Because the meal in general was going to be very light, I actually served 2 won tons per person.

I love using wonton wrappers because they aren't fussy things like, say, phyllo dough. They are already a manageable size, you don't have to keep them covered while you're trying to work with them, they seal easily and they are super inexpensive. Plus, they keep forever in the freezer. Love. Them.

It also doesn't take a lick of culinary skill to make the cute little purses. See?

Put the filling on the wrappers.


Seal the edges with a little water.



Pull the edges together, first into a triangle


and then bring up the outside corners and press together.


You can make these ahead and keep them covered with plastic wrap until you're ready to cook.

This is what the plate looked like. Don't worry, I wiped off the sauce splashes. The sauce was so delicious that everyone spooned it up when the wontons were gone. You could easily increase the amounts to make a superfantastic sauce for pasta.



Then we had my signature salad, because as often as I've made it, it had never been served to this particular bunch of guests. The recipe varies a little, sometimes I make it with spinach, sometimes I add bleu cheese. But this time it was just romaine, mandarin oranges and candied pecans.

Lorraine's Signature Salad
1 head romaine lettuce, cut into strips (or use a bunch of spinach)
1 tin mandarin oranges, drained and juice reserved
1 c. pecan halves
2 T. butter
1/2 c. brown sugar
1/2 c. crumbled bleu cheese (optional)

Prepare the pecans. Melt the butter in a large skillet over medium high heat and saute the pecans for a moment or two. Add in the brown sugar and stir until it combines with the butter to form caramel. Stir constantly, taking care not to let the sauce brown and until pecans are well coated. Pour out on a piece of parchment paper and allow to cool.

Make the dressing:
1/3 c. reserved juice from mandarins
2 T. rice wine vinegar (or to taste)
approx. 1/3 c. mandarin orange olive oil (or regular olive oil)
1 t. Dijon mustard

Whisk together the juice, vinegar and mustard. Taste and adjust with a little more vinegar or mustard if needed. Whisk in the olive oil until it emulsifies.

To make the salad toss the greens, oranges and cheese (if using). Toss with some of the dressing. Add pecans and toss again.


The Spouse was in charge of the entree, which was Chicken Piccata. I'll try to snag the recipe from him later. Suffice to say that it was perfect. He put the lemon in its place, it wasn't tart but just offered up all its sunny essence. This was accompanied by a summer squash gratin and a fun twist on a caprese salad. Instead of slabs of tomato and mozzarella, I diced the tomatoes, cut the basil into a chiffonade and tossed them with little pearl sized mozzarella balls in balsamic vinegar and olive oil. I served it in egg cups so the dressing wouldn't interfere with the piccata sauce. It was a cute presentation and everyone was absolutely delighted by the tiny balls of mozzarella.

The original squash recipe called for a pound of zucchini and was made in a large gratin dish. I made a smaller amount and served it in individual gratin dishes.

Summer Squash Gratin
2 T. olive oil
1 medium zucchini
1 medium yellow summer squash
1/2 c. pine nuts
2 garlic cloves, peeled and minced
1/4 c. whipping cream
salt & pepper to taste
1/4 c. freshly grated Gruyere cheese

Preheat the broiler.

Trim the ends of the squashes, cut into round slices and then quarter the rounds, to make largish chunks.

In a large skillet, heat the oil over medium heat. Add garlic, squash and pine nuts. Cook for about 5 minutes until squash begins to brown. Lower heat, cover dish and cook until soft, about 10 minutes.

Divide the squash among gratin dishes. Drizzle each with cream. Sprinkle to taste with salt and pepper. Sprinkle cheese over the squash. Place under the broiler until the cheese melts and turns golden and the cream is bubbly, about 3 minutes.

We drank chardonnay with the amuse bouche (3 Buck Chuck...why not?) and with dinner we had a nice Kendall-Jackson Cabernet Sauvignon (2004) and a delightful Bordeaux style "claret" from Robert Karl, a 2004 from the Columbia Valley.

The Boys provided a delicious tart for the pudding course, made with chocolate, orange and pine nuts. It was beautiful to look at and a sheer blessing to eat. They brought along some 2005 Essensia, an orange muscat, which was of course, a perfect complement.
The meal was spectacular but one of the best moments for me was when The Spouse and I were in the kitchen, him finishing up the chicken and me broiling the gratin and helping with the plating. Very happy conversation was floating in from the dining room, The Child and guests engaging in comfortable, flowing talk. It was so lovely, as the hostess, to be away from the table and know that we weren't required to keep things going. But then, I shouldn't have been surprised. We realized mid-way through dinner that this is the 10th Solstice Feast we've celebrated together. I suppose people know each other pretty well by now.

Carnevale '07

I'm so glad it's Sunday. I am sorely in need of a day of rest and will not be getting out of my jammies. The glorious madness of non-stop parties is over, leaving me a happy little puddle of weariness.But enough about me. Let's talk about the Carnevale feast, shall we?

Ah, Carnevale! One of the most favorite of all our feasts, the time when no regard is given to calories, carbs, grams of fat or any of that other nonesense. Time to eat large, drink plenty and generally indulge; it's one last fling with the table before the fast of Lent begins.


The party began my signature apertif snacky thing of orange olives and champagne (or sparkly juice for those either under age or pregnant). Beads were donned.














The first course was a little wedge of paté with cornichon and crackers. One of these days I'll get around to trying my hand at my own country-style pate, lovingly cooked in the proper little paté terrine that Nicole gave me long ago. (I also used to make cornichon from itty bitty French cucumbers that I grew myself. Note to self: find some seed again this year because that was just plain fun).

We have the same salad each year for Carnevale, a very simple toss of chopped celery and shaved Parmesan in a lemon juice/olive oil dressing. It is a surprising combination of refreshing crunchiness. Ancient Romans would secure celery leaves around their heads as a preventative against hang-overs.

Then came the main course, which is always lamb, but this year involved the discovery of something called ras el-hanout, which is Moroccan for "superfantastic and gorgeously aromatic powder of heaven". There wasn't time this week to go to the souk in the Public Market, which would no doubt have had many variations on the theme so I had to make my own. Never having used the stuff before nor having any idea what it is supposed to taste like, some research was involved.

Ras el-hanout is like curry powder in that there are common ingredients to all the recipes but personal twists are given the concoction from region to region, cook to cook. Some of the recipes read like something you'd find in the notebook of a white witch and there wasn't time to search the city for many things unpronouncable. I finally struck on an accessible combination of cinnamon sticks, cloves, fenugreek and the seeds of mustard, coriander, cumin and fennel. One of the common ingredients to the mix, however, is rose petals. The co-op only had rosebuds for craft use and I didn't know if my Valentine roses were free of pesticides or whatever so I threw a pinch or so of rosehips into the mix.














All these lovely things were slowly warmed in a heavy pan until little seeds started popping and incense-like fragrance began wafting through the house. Then everything was whizzed through the spice grinder until reduced to a sneeze-inducing powder.

Instead of leg o', this year we did racks o' lamb. The Spouse rubbed the racks with the gorgeous ras el-hanout, then seared the lamb and tossed it in the oven to roast. The roasting pan was deglazed with shiraz and honey was added to the wine. I added a few tablespoons of rosewater to the honey, to help make up for the absence of roses in the spice rub. The sauce cooked down to a silky little pot of yum. I have a bit of a thing for a good sauce and this one is now on my list of "Top 10 Most Delicious Sauces Ever Eaten".














The lamb, which I can really only refer to now as My Favorite Lamb Dish of All Time, was accompanied by the following:

Bleu Cheese Potatoes (involving quantities of butter and cream plus some emmantaler that was lying around; because you can't have too much cheesey goodness).














Artichoke Heart Gratin, which was stupid simple. The original recipe called for cooking the artichokes in Italian dressing but that just seemed fussy. I used marinated artichokes to begin with. These were cooked by themselves for about 10 minutes, then mozzerella cheese was sprinkled over it all and baked some more, then the dish was sprinkled with french-fried onions and warmed for 1 more minute. It was, um, really yummy.














Green beans tossed with toasted hazelnuts (that ReeRee whacked into little bits for me) and lemon zest, olive oil, salt and pepper completed the plate.














Between dinner and dessert we have a pre-Lenten conversation wherein everyone shares his or her intentions for the coming fast. We draw names for our secret prayer buddy, who we will keep in our prayers during Lent. (In Holy Week we send out what The Child calls "love letters", revealing ourselves). After the sharing and a sung Our Father and the Sanctus (in Latin), it's time to get back to the table.














This year we had 2 desserts. The Neighbor, who came very very late because she was singing in a concert, procured for us a King Cake, baked fresh yesterday morning by a gentleman who is originally from New Orleans. It was very good, with lots of crunchy sugar on the top but as good as it was last night, it was even more spectacular this morning with coffee. King Cake, which actually has it's roots in Epiphany, has a little surprise baked into it and the person who gets the prize has the honor of procurring next year's cake. That would be Jerry.



















But the essential tradition of this Carnevale feast is that dessert must be rich and decadent. This year's choice was tiramisu, from Dariush's recipe. Let's just call it what it really is, shall we? Coronary in a Trifle Bowl. But what a way to go.














Layers of ladyfingers soaked in coffee and marsala (because I was too lazy to get amaretto-and frankly, I think I liked it even better that way) between which lurked cups and cups of luscious filling (marscapone cheese combined with a whipped egg yolk/sugar thing combined with thick cream). For a little extra Carnevale glam, I also sprinkled grated chocolate between the filling and ladyfingers. Just before serving it got a nice sprinking of unsweeted cocoa. (I doubled the recipe, Dariush. It turned out really well. Thanks again). It was the best tiramisu I've ever tasted...rich and flavorful but with a good balance between all the elements, which is usually where tiramisu fails, imho.














And then there was the post-prandial indulgence of Scotch or a last glass of wine. The Neighbor arrived just as everyone else was preparing to take their sated selves away so she got to give out hugs and then The Spouse and I sat with her while she ate the plate of food we'd kept warm for her. And then we took our tired selves to bed and I didn't even care that there were still dishes to do. Someone will get around to them eventually.

The Great Bistro Feast of '07

For the past 4 years we have donated a "French bistro feast for 4" to the auction at The Child's old school. Except that by special arrangment, it is purchased every year by the same group of people and there are more than 4 of them. They bring the wine, we do the rest.

We have always had a great time at this event (and it looks like we'll do it again because this year Sandy procured it before the end of the first course) but this year seemed like the most fun yet. I don't even know what it was in particular but we just laughed all night long and it was beyond enjoyable.

Plus, and I'm not trying to toot my own horn here, but dang! This year I surprised even myself with the general tastiness of the meal. Seriously, if I'd had this meal in a restaurant I would be telling everyone to get themselves post-haste to Chez Whatever. It was that good.

Apertif was, as always, green olives that have been sprinkled with orange zest and gently warmed. Goes great with champagne.

Orange Olives16 oz. good quality green olives (I like this with pimento stuffed olives but whatever you like)1 orange Drain the olives and place on serving platter. Zest the entire orange over the olives, holding it low to the plate so the orange oil sprays onto the olives (I don't know that this really makes a difference but I like thinking it does) Place platter in microwave for 30 seconds and serve.

For the first course, I baked a little loaf of honey-wheat-walnut bread. This was toasted and served with a rough country pate, which I absolutely did not make myself because Trader Joe's has an excellent one, a little smidge of Dijon mustard and cornichon.


The entree was a beef daube that was so superfantastic I want to make it every week. First came a mix of tomatoes, onions, garlic, capers, anchovy paste & chopped cornichon.


This was then layered in a big pot with thin slices of chuck roast and topped with a bouquet garni. It cooked on low all afternoon and voila! a pot of sheer ambrosia.


We served it with a gratin of potatoes, parsley and cream plus a little dollop of a carrot-yellow pepper puree (mostly just for color but it was really tasty).


Here's the progress of the gratin: first a buttered dish and a bay leaf.


Then potatoes, each layer sprinkled with chopped parsley and salt. Pour cream over it all, top with dollops of butter and another bay leaf. Bake.


Couldn't be easier. It comes out so rich and silky and surprisingly full of flavor. And not a smidge of cheese anywhere. (Not that cheese is ever a bad thing).

The hostessing became so engrossing that I sometimes forgot to photograph the food, if you can believe that. So you'll have to take it on faith that the entree was followed by a delicious salad of arugula, pancetta, Kalamata olives and large shavings of Parmesan, tossed in a lemon/olive oil dressing. Very refreshing and tasty. Then there was a cheese course with more of the walnut bread and table water crackers. 3 cheeses: manchengo, chevre with warm honey and a blissfully good Stilton with cranberries.

For dessert, I made crepes which were rolled around vanilla ice cream and frozen. They were served with raspberries and a hot fudge-rum sauce.


This leaning tower of ramekins gives you an idea of the state of the kitchen afterwards.


But we didn't care because this is what it looked like in the other room:

Solstice Feast 2006

Tomatoes, about to be roasted. As was I. Yesterday was very warm and was only enhanced by the Viking blasting BTUs for a couple hours. But it was so worth it.

Here's what we ate and drank:

Apertif was the standard Green Olives with Orange Zest, accompanied by peach Bellinis.

There as an amuse bouche of shrimp, asparagus and lemon zest in Italian dressing with a

2005 Hogue Chardonnay.

(Don't you just love the idea of something to "amuse the mouth"...a mere taste of something, just for the fun of it? These were arranged on scallop shells and looked very pretty. See?)

We followed with a Mesclun salad with caramelized pears wrapped with prosciutto and a sprinkling of toasted hazelnuts in a maple syrup vinaigrette

The entree was Chicken paillards, dressed with lavender honey and sprinkled with chevre. This was served on a bed of baby spinach. On the side was a roasted tomato and ricotta tart and a melange of haricot vert, wax beans and baby carrots tossed with butter and dill. With the entree we drank Bonny Doon Vin Gris de Cigare, 2003 and 2005. (We liked the '05 best).

As you can see, there was a great deal of documentation going on. ("Did you get a picture of that for your blog?" The Spouse kept saying). And yet, the entree came and went without anyone thinking of pulling out the camera. This is what ChouChou's plate looked like afterwards, though.

I guess it was good.

There is a story behind dessert. The Boys always bring the pudding and a fine job they do of it, too. I don't tell this story to cast aspersions and you must understand that because I love The Boys, they are lovely people and nothing negative is to be read into this: they made a cake and left it at home. They also made vanilla ice cream and that came with them.

Fortunately, The Child had baked a hot milk sponge cake the day before. (She got the baking gene). So The Boys plated up slices of her cake with the ice cream and peach puree left over from our bellinis. It was delicious. They also served us a 2003 Canoe Ridge Late Harvest Gewurztraminer which was nigh unto ambrosia.

This was a happy enough ending but The Boys, as they were leaving, made noises about coming 'round with the double ginger cherry upside down cake that they had made so we devised a plan and they are coming back to dinner tonight. Ha!

We're going to marinate a little rack of lamb chops and grill those. We'll have shrimp cocktail to start and then the lamb with couscous & asparagus (and I'm thinking everything is going to be done on the grill because it's supposed to get into the 90s today) and a big salad and then the cake. All's well that ends well.