Sassy Southern Cooking with a French Twist

French cooking

Cooking Classes with Chef Holly Herrick in Williamsburg in Full Swing

Hello friends and fans of great food and cooking,

I’ve missed you these past few months! Like the rest of the world, I’ve been patiently and safely waiting out the terrific crush of Covid-19. I’m praying you and your loved ones have been able to do the same. Now fully vaccinated and underway with resumption of private, customized cooking classes, I wanted to let you know we’re cooking safely and deliciously all over again.

Here is a link to current (January, 2022 and forward)  class information and details:

Cooking Classes

 

I hope to see and hear from you soon. In the meantime, Rocky and I wish you health, safety, and happiness in the new year.

Greetings from Rocky and Holly!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Chowder’s On!

I grew up in New England, where clam and fish chowder are as common as hard “Southie” accents, Patriot’s fans, and thick corduroy slacks. But, there is nothing common about finding a good, and especially an excellent, fish chowder.   That’s because, similar to their smoother, silkier and equally delicious French cream soup bisque cousins, it’s far too easy to take short cuts on quality of the ingredients and over-dosing thickening agents to make the chowder go a little bit further for less. This happens the most in bad restaurants, not in most New England home kitchens, where pride is a principal ingredient when it comes to cooking time-perfected regional specialties like chowder – or “chow-dah.”

Although it may slightly tweak stubborn Yankee pride, chowder and bisque have some French etymology and classical technique in common. Chowder goes back to the French word “cauldron,” a kind of pot in which it is prepared.  Bisques are simultaneously flavored and thickened by the shells of the crustaceans they showcase, from shrimp to lobster. The liquid is then strained and further thickened often with rice or with a traditional roux prepared with equal parts butter and flour (my preferred method). They are then embellished with delicate, flavor enhancing vegetables, pureed and finished with cream, more butter, often sherry or vermouth, and the meat of the shellfish or fish (and sometimes vegetables) at their flavor core. Chowder also has a flavor base of fish stock and a thickening agent of roux. The main difference is that the fish is left chunky along with vegetables; almost always potatoes, celery, onions, and sometimes leeks and carrots. It is also finished with milk and or cream and butter, and boy, oh boy, is it sublime. When properly paired, it yields some of the sweetest soup nectar imaginable.

My neighbor described this just that way, “One of the best soups I’ve ever had in my life.” Oui! It is simple. Take care in the timing and size of the vegetables and fish so they will be tender yet still hold their shape. I used frozen wild Alaskan salmon and frozen wild Atlantic cod. In this kind of dish, frozen works just as well as fresh and the texture holds up slightly better, too.  Stir and taste with care and I promise you, this chowder will keep you spooning for more, with its dual bisque delicacy and chunky chowder flare. Serve very hot in stout, shallow bowls and garnish with a dash of finely chopped fresh parsley and crumbled butter crackers or Saltines to stay true to Yankee form.

Slip of the Bisque Cod and Salmon Chowder

(Makes 8 generous portions)

Pretty in pink and green, this creamy, silky chowder will recall a delicate French bisque, but with the sturdiness of a chunky New England chowder.

Ingredients:

6 tablespoons unsalted butter

1 medium onion, finely chopped

1 large leek, tops of green leaves removed to one inch above white base and well-cleaned(*), finely chopped

2 celery stalks, well cleaned, cut in half, and finely chopped

2 teaspoons kosher or sea salt

1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper

2 teaspoons Old Bay Seasoning

1/2 cup Sauvignon Blanc or another dry white wine or dry vermouth

6 tablespoons all-purpose flour

One quart (4 cups) best-quality, no sodium seafood stock

3 medium Yukon Gold potatoes, well-scrubbed, skin-on and cut into 1/2-inch cubes (about 3 cups)

2 cups whole milk

8 ounces fresh or frozen (thawed) best-quality salmon, cut into 1-inch cubes

8 ounces fresh or frozen (thawed) best-qualit cod, cut into 1-inch cubes

For finishing:

1/2 cup Half & Half

1/2 cup whole milk (as needed)

2 or 3 tablespoons unsalted butter (not required)

(*To more easily clean leeks, rinse them thoroughly in cold water once they have been diced, and strain. Repeat as needed to remove all grit).

In a large, sturdy pot, melt the 6 tablespoons butter over medium heat. When melted and just bubbling, add the onion, leek, celery, salt, pepper and Old Bay. Stir, cooking gently over medium heat for five minutes or until just softened. Add the wine or vermouth. Increase heat to high and cook off until almost fully reduced. Reduce heat to medium low. Drizzle in the flour evenly over the top of the ingredients in the pot, stir thoroughly with a wooden spoon to incorporate and cook for one minute. Add the seafood stock, whisking aggressively to incorporate and break up any flour clots. Increase the heat to high, bring to a boil, and reduce to a simmer over medium. Add the potatoes and 2 cups whole milk.  Again, bring to a gentle simmer and keep it there, for about 25 minutes, or until the celery, onions and potatoes are fork tender but still holding their shape. Add the salmon, cod, Half & Half and additional whole milk (if needed, thickness should thick to a spoon, but still be loose enough to sip). Cook an additional 10 minutes at a simmer, stirring very gently,  until the fish is opaque and cooked through, but still holding its shape. For added richness, stir in a few pats of butter before serving very hot individually or in a tureen. It’s beautiful garnished with parsley, green onions, and those Yankee-loving salty crackers.

Bon appetit and enjoy fall, if it ever gets here. Even in Virginia, the cooler temps have been a bit fickle, but the leaves are turning, which is probably what got me thinking about chowder in the first place. After all, you can take the girl out of New England, but you can’t take the New England out of the girl.

Author, Chef, Cookbook writer Holly Herrick

Fondly, Holly and Rocky

 

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Easy Bake Creamsicle Cream Puffs For Mother’s Day

Sweet, Nostalgic Treats to Spoil Mom on Her Big Day

With the daily onslaught of National-this and National-that days for everything from hot dogs to pets, it’s easy to get a case of celebration fatigue. Don’t get me wrong, I love hot dogs and pets, but in my book, Mother’s Day and Father’s Day are HUGE. After all, we all have one of each, even though some of us never knew them or in an increasing number of cases among my friends, they have passed on.

I’m very lucky, I knew both of my wonderful parents, they’re still living, and I have been blessed to have several “extra” mothers in my lives, mothers of my close friends, who helped me feel safe, loved, and nurtured. And, lucky for me, they all loved to cook and were great at it and sharing their goodness with me and my friends. Two of these dear women, Mrs. Unger and Mrs. Neale, passed in recent weeks. Another, Mrs. Kimmel, likely has, as well, but I long since lost touch with my childhood friend Cathy, to whom she was mother. I wrote about her recently in a piece I have not yet published, and since Mother’s Day is approaching, and since much of this could be said about my own mother and my cherished extra mothers, I’m sharing some of it here:

“Petite, pretty, and just slightly plump, Mrs. Kimmel wore her hair in perfectly coiffed, tumbling curls, like Marilyn Monroe’s in ‘Some Like it Hot,’ and often wore a floral dress that looked like it was cut from the giant magnolia blossoms on 1930’s-era wallpaper. When she was in the kitchen (which seemed like all the time), she wore a frilly, chiffon apron over her dress, tied with a crisp bow around her waist. Like Cathy, she work dark pink cat eye glasses that set off her pale blue eyes and corn silk blonde hair.

Her kitchen, the entire Kimmel household in fact, had a very distinct and persistent aroma that forty years later, I can still remember. It was a cross between maple syrup, browned butter, baking bread, and very, very remotely, moth balls. The source of the latter remains a mystery, but as for the food aromas, that’s a cinch. Mrs. Kimmel, a native of Mobile, AL, excelled in cooking all things Southern.  In her country, New England kitchen, I experienced my first White Lily Flour baked biscuits, slathered with butter. Also, crunchy, black walnut-dusted waffles cooked on a folded-top waffle iron and drizzled with warm sorghum molasses, golden, thick-crusted fried chicken fresh from her ancient cast-iron skillet, and green beans from her garden cooked in a pressure cooker.

She could cook anything, and I loved her and Cathy even more for it. In the cold, snowy New England winters, Mrs. Kimmel mixed clean, country snow with sugar, cream, and vanilla extract and served it in bowls for an after-school snack. It the fall, it was hot chocolate chip cookies fresh from the oven. Late summers were spent canning. Throughout the winter her blackberry jams and bread and butter pickles were staples on her kitchen table, which she lined with a plastic, red and white gingham table cloth, the combination casting a flow of eternal summer and warmth upon the entire space, and my early childhood.”

When I started thinking about a recipe to share for you to consider sharing on Mother’s Day, I thought of cream puffs, made from choux pastry.  Like a good, loving mother, it has sturdy, tough walls, indifferent to spoiled or brat behavior, and a tender, airy, delicate interior, like a kind, maternal heart. Also, you have to beat the heck out of the pastry to get it to react that way once it’s in the oven, not unlike the trials and travails I know me and my siblings railed against my mother, not even knowing we were doing it.  The creamsicle flavors of cream and orange are perfect for spring, and remind me of Mrs. Kimmel’s retro flair and childhood ice cream pops. On a practical note, “choux” is easy to prepare and can be prepped ahead and even frozen (then thawed) before filling. This recipe comes from my cookbook The French Cook – Cream Puffs and Eclairs (Gibbs Smith, 2013).

Creamsicle Cream Puffs from The French Cook – Cream Puffs and Eclairs – are the perfect way to spoil Mom this coming Mother’s Day, or any day. Photograph by Alexandra DeFurio.

Creamsicle Cream Puffs

(Yields 24 to 30 petite cream puffs)

For the choux pastry:

1 cup water

3/4 stick unsalted butter, cold, cut into 1/2-inch cubes

1/2 cup bread flour

1/2 cup all-purpose flour

1 tablespoon sugar

1/4 teaspoon sea salt or kosher salt

4 large eggs, room temperature, beaten together

Egg wash: 1 egg yolk, splash of water, pinch of salt, blended together

Preheat oven to 425F. Line two half-sheet baking pans with silicon mats or parchment paper. Measure all the ingredients and have them ready before starting to prepare the dough.

In a medium, heavy-bottomed saucepan, heat the water and butter together of medium-high heat, stirring once or twice to help the butter melt. Once melted, reduce the heat to medium.

Sift together the two flours and salt over a medium bowl. Add the sifted dry ingredients all at once to the water mixture, and set the bowl nearby. Stir the dough vigorously with a wooden spoon to bring it together. Continue stirring, less vigorously, until the pastry pulls away from the sides of the pan and forms a uniform ball. Turn the pastry into the reserved bowl and let it sit for about 1 minute. Add half of the remaining egg mixture and continue to stir until the pastry is uniform and glossy, about 1 minute. Repeat with the remaining egg mixture.

While the pastry is still warm, pipe or plop into 1 – 2 inch size balls on the prepared baking sheets, leaving space between them to expand. Brush the top of each pastry with a light coating of egg wash, being careful not to let the egg wash drip down the sides of the pan.

Bake until puffy and golden brown, about twenty five minutes. Do not open the oven door until they’re done or very near done. They should feel light in your palm and sound hollow when done.  Set aside to cool. (Note: Once cool, they can be stored in the freezer for several months in an air-tight container. This makes them perfect for instant entertaining, as well as Mother’s Day. Thaw at room temp before filling).

For the filling:

3 tablespoons fresh orange juice (do not substitute concentrate)

1 cup cold whipping cream

Zest of 1 orange, finely chopped (about 1 teaspoon)

1/4 teaspoon orange extract

1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract

1/4 cup powdered sugar

Reserved reduced orange juice

For the royal icing:

1/3 cup powdered sugar

1/4 teaspoon orange extract

2 tablespoons heavy cream

Orange-colored granulated sugar

To prepare the filling, in a small saucepan, reduce the orange juice to 1 teaspoon over high heat, 1 to 2 minutes. Turn out into a small bowl and refrigerate to cool. In a large, cold bowl, combine the remaining filling ingredients, including the cooled teaspoon of orange juice. Using a blender, blend on medium speed until the cream is whipped to firm peaks.

Prepare the royal icing by stirring together the ingredients in a small bowl until smooth and incorporated. To fill the choux, cut each in half horizontally. Plop a heaping teaspoon of the cream filling in the center of each. Replace the respective “caps,” trying not to press down too firmly on the filling. Glaze each lightly with the royal icing using your fingertip or the back of a teaspoon. Top with a pinch of the orange sugar. Freeze for at least 30 minutes to set the cream.

Bon appetit!

Wishing you and your Mother, extra mother, memories and families a beautiful Mother’s Day. This column is dedicated to my mother, Mrs. Neale, Mrs. Unger, and Mrs. Kimmel. God bless you all!

Holly

 

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Let Them Eat Souffle!

Starting a Souffle Revolution at Home

The last time I ordered a souffle in a restaurant, or even saw one on a menu, was at Tour D’Argent in Paris, New Year’s Eve, 1992. It was a simple and elegant vanilla souffle, dotted with crunchy, fragrant vanilla pod seeds, arriving at the table all beautiful and steaming  hot; a perfectly crafted crown of Gaul glory. The server gently crushed its top to ladle in a silky, warm creme anglaise. It was heaven. A moment I will never forget. Kind of like 1992, which was a magical year for me, all tucked away at Le Cordon Bleu, cooking and learning French cooking by day, absorbing every inch of Paris and France when I wasn’t cooking.

Since then, I haven’t seen them much in restaurants and have often wondered why. They are not expensive to make, are easily prepped and compiled at the last minute, and when well done (they are easier to make than you may think), are utterly impressive and utterly delicious. Any chef’s dream dish. Perhaps it’s time to start a new French Revolution in our own home kitchens? That’s what I’ve been doing and the purpose of this post is to remind you how easy and rewarding it is to do the same in your own.

As a prologue to that, I thought I’d share some thoughts from the heroine in the culinary romance novel (hopefully series) I’m working on. She’s a chef and sees several parallels between souffles and her own life:

A Page from Today’s Journal – Prudence Sass

….”The way a souffle turns out, all depends on how it’s handled. The first step is to separate the yolk from the white, or put another way, separate the baby from its embryo. There are lots of important, pesky little things to do along the way (temperature, clean hands, clean bowls, etc.), but the most important of all is the act of denaturing the egg whites to make them stable, airy, and strong. Indeed, to create a beautiful souffle, the natural qualities of the egg white proteins must be altered or destroyed altogether. And, to do that, you beat the hell out of them and fold them ever so gently back into their other half, the yolks, which have been similarly beaten into a ribbon. Then, you pop it into the oven, cross your fingers, and hope it turns out all right. It is comforting to know that older eggs make the most stable souffles and that souffle, a very pretty French word (pronounced soof-lay) literally means ‘to blow’.”

Prudence is basically right about all that. But, to refresh my own souffle thoughts and skills, I spent some time with Greg Patent’s marvelous The French Cook Souffle’s Cookbook (Gibbs Smith, 2014), which is part of The French Cook series I also contributed to (Sauces, Soups & Stews, and Cream Puffs & Eclairs). Greg is a souffle master and his book is written with tender loving care and magnificently described technique, especially in the front of the book where he discusses all matters souffle (sweet and savory) in detail. Because a friend requested a savory cheese souffle for a cooking class I was planning for her husband, herself and some of their friends, I sharpened up my skills using his cheese souffle recipe.  Like Prudence, I was crossing my fingers until the very end, but in following Patent’s directions to the letter (except for making the bechamel base ahead and bringing to room temperature before folding in the egg whites) it turned out perfectly.

The cover of Greg Patent’s wonderful The French Cook Souffles (Gibbs Smith, 2014)

Classic Cheese Souffle

(from The French Cook Souffles by Greg Patent, Gibbs Smith Publisher)

Serves 4

4 tablespoons unsalted butter, plus more for mold

2 tablespoons finely grated Parmesan cheese, for mold

1 cup whole milk, plus 1 tablespoon divided

4 tablespoons all-purpose flour

1/2 teaspoon salt

1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper

Pinch of freshly ground nutmeg

6 large eggs, separated, room temperature

Pinch of salt

1/4 teaspoon cream of tartar

1 cup (4 ounces) shredded Gruyere, Comte or P’tit Basque cheese

Adjust an oven rack to lower third position and set a baking sheet on the rack. Preheat the oven to 400 degrees F. Butter bottom and sides of a 1- 1/2 quart, 4-inch tall charlotte mold and coat with the Parmesan.

Heat 1 cup milk in a small heavy saucepan until bubbling but not boiling; keep warm. Melt 4 tablespoons butter in a medium heavy saucepan over medium heat. Stir in the flour with a wooden spoon and cook, stirring, for 2 minutes. Remove pan from the heat and whisk in the hot milk; sauce should be smooth. Return pan to medium-high heat and bring to a boil, whisking constantly. Cook and whisk until very thick, about 2 minutes. Remove pan from heat and whisk in the salt, pepper, and nutmeg. Whisk in the egg yolks one at a time. Film the surface of the bechamel with 1 tablespoon milk.

In the bowl of a stand mixer, beat the egg whites with a pinch of salt on medium speed until frothy, about 1 minute. Add cream of tartar and beat until soft peaks form. Increase speed to medium-high and continue beating until moist stiff peaks form, 1 to 2 minutes.

Stir about one-fourth of the whites into the bechamel to lighten. Gently fold in remaining whites, sprinkling in the shredded cheese as you fold. Fold until no white streaks remain. Transfer the batter into prepared mold, filling it about 3/4 inch from the top. (May be made to this point about 1 hour ahead. Cover mold with a large, upturned bowl.) Set the souffle onto the baking sheet in the oven and bake until well browned on top, puffed about 2 inches above the rim, and a wooden skewer inserted into the center comes out clean but moist, about 25 minutes. Serve immediately.

Voila! A perfect cheese souffle is almost ready to be enjoyed.

Feeling souffle proud! If I can do it, so can you.

We served this with a simple salad of tender greens tossed with a simple orange and mustard vinaigrette. It was the bona fide hit of the evening. The revolutionary and unexpected winner on all counts. If you ever want to come cook with me and learn all about cooking delicious food and having a great time while  you’re at it, click on this link for more details:

Cooking Classes

In the meantime, I hope you’ll check out Greg’s book and start making your own souffles. Wishing all a safe and happy Labor Day weekend.

Bon appetit!

Holly and Rocky

Author, Chef, Cookbook writer Holly Herrick

 

 

 

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Basking Basquaise

Reflections and a Recipe: Feisty Chicken Drumstick Piperade

Some years ago, I was blessed enough not only to own a small home in a tiny village in southwestern France, I was doubly blessed to have the opportunity to visit for several months of those seven lucky years. Tucked away in the foothills of The Pyrenees and steeped in the tragic history of Le Pays Cathare, it was a tiny, pie-shaped home at the base of a crumbling old chateau in a pocket of a village called Chalabre. My French friends called it le maison du poupee, or a doll’s house. Sometimes I felt like a little doll working in it, especially working in my sliver of a kitchen with a view of rolling green hills, grazing cattle, and a tiny 16th-century church, tolling its soothing, soulful bells every hour into every day I spent there.

As much as I loved it, I would occasionally stray south of the border to neighboring Spain to buy red clay pottery, which brought me through and around Basque country. The language and dialect are unique and were foreign to my French-trained ears. Even though I couldn’t understand the language, I recognized and understood the faces of the villagers in the villages I passed through.  Rows of stooped, elderly men lining short benches at the edges of cafes, sun-leathered faces and age-withered lips barely clinging to their omnipresent Gauloises cigarettes, and little old ladies clinging to well-used thatched baskets, hobbling through winding, ancient streets in floral, wrapped aprons on the way to the daily marche,  all spoke to the time-worn traditions of the place.

Among other things, Basque country is home to the French Basque “piperade” (pronounced pip-errr-ahd), which derives its name from the French Gascon word for pepper, or “piper.” Traditionally, it is comprised primarily of peppers, onions and tomatoes, to mimic the red, green and white colors of the Basque flag. Because peppers have been haunting me for the past two months, both at supermarkets and farmer stands, I’ve been cooking quite a bit with them. Their diversity is growing, both in color and heat, and I enjoyed combining a bit of sweet and heat in this recipe, which is just hot enough to make you pucker, and sweet enough (with a dash of honey) to make you smile. I skipped tomatoes in this version, since I didn’t have any at home. Feel free to add one or two, coarsely chopped, after adding the chicken stock. It’s finished with a spray of fresh basil and parsley, and is as lovely served hot, as it is room temp or even cool for a picnic. Serve as is, or over rice, polenta, grits or creamy mashed potatoes.

Recipe

Feisty Chicken Drumstick Piperade – the perfect summer dish.

 

 

Ingredients

2 tablespoons unsalted butter

1 tablespoon olive oil

6 large chicken drumsticks (about 1 1/2 pounds)

kosher or sea salt and freshly ground black pepper

1 teaspoon dried oregano

1 tablespoon olive oil

1 medium onion, peeled, halved and thinly sliced

1 3/4 cups mixed color sweet, baby bell peppers (about 8 total), halved, seeded, and thinly sliced

1 large banana pepper, halved, seeded, and thinly sliced

1 large jalapeno pepper, halved, seeded, and thinly sliced

kosher or sea salt and freshly ground black pepper

3 large cloves garlic, peeled, smashed and very finely chopped

Juice of 1 lime, about 2 tablespoons

2/3 cup fresh squeezed orange juice

Pinch crushed red pepper flakes

1 tablespoon local or wild honey

1 1/2 cups low-sodium chicken stock

kosher or sea salt and freshly ground black pepper

1 tablespoon each, finely chopped fresh basil and parsley

 

Method

Preheat oven to 350F. Pat dry the chicken drumsticks (or substitute same size pieces of other cuts of the chicken). Heat the 2 tablespoons butter and 1 tablespoon olive oil in a 5 1/2 quart Dutch Oven (or another sturdy, oven-proof pot) over medium high. Season the chicken generously on one side with the salt and pepper and 1/2 of the oregano. When sizzling, add the chicken, seasoned side down in a single layer, in the butter and oil. Brown until golden, about four minutes. Turn the chicken, and season the uncooked side with salt and pepper and remaining oregano. Cook another 2 to 3 minutes until golden. Remove the chicken from the pan and set aside. Drain off the cooking fat. Add a fresh tablespoon of olive oil, heat over medium low. Add the onion, season lightly with salt and pepper, stir and cook until just softened, about two minutes. Add the sweet peppers, banana pepper and jalapeno, season lightly with salt and pepper, stir, and continue cooking over medium low until softened, about three minutes. Add the garlic, lime juice, orange juice and crushed red pepper flakes. Increase the heat to medium high and reduce liquids by half. Add the honey,  chicken stock and return the browned chicken to the pan, in a single layer. Bring up to a boil, cover, and place the pot in the preheated oven on the middle rack. Bake for 20 minutes. Turn the chicken once. Remove the lid and return to the oven, baking another 10 minutes or until the chicken is cooked through and beginning to pull from the bone. Remove the pot from the oven and remove the chicken from the pot, reserving warm. Return the pot to the stove, and reduce the liquid by half, simmering over medium high for 6 to 8 minutes. Taste and adjust seasoning as needed. At the last minute, add the fresh basil and parsley. Return the chicken to the pot and heat through. Serve immediately or cool, refrigerate overnight, and serve the next day hot, room temperature or chilled.

Bon appetit!

 

 

 

 

 

 

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