Diorama Gourmand

from the Chez Maxim's cookbook

WHO says fashion people don't eat? This recipe for Diorama gourmand comes from the Chez Maxim's cookbook and was contributed by the late Christian Dior.

lining a "deep mold" with vanilla ice cream

ON  short notice, David was in town over the weekend and I wanted to welcome him home with a special dinner. I decided on "an evening at Maxim's" and selected pommes Maxim's and Diorama gourmand (the latter being my first attempt.)

The recipe for this rather fancy dessert seemed simple enough. Its main ingredients list: vanilla ice cream, bittersweet chocolate, orange juice, lemon juice and sugar. I could manage that. First: I began the process for making (homemade) "Sorbet à l'Orange."

I used a bar of 85% extra dark Godiva chocolate
for the bittersweet chocolate leaves

Making the orange sherbet was very easy (and inexpensive). Simply: dissolve 1½ cups sugar in 1½ cups water; add one pint orange juice and the juice of one lemon; freeze. Next, I lined a "deep mold" with one pint of vanilla ice cream. I chose a spherical mixing bowl for easy extraction.

my freezer often only holds the barest of basics (and necessities)!

Lining the Diorama mold was a multiple-step process, each time smoothing and thinning the layer of vanilla while bringing it closer to the edge of the bowl. But in the end my patience paid off and the level of sherbet met perfectly with the edge of the ice cream.

Voilà!

Now had I been David been a bit more patient, I would have been able to deliver a more flawless presentation. (the firming time for the sherbet was much longer than the recipe had indicated) But once David had learned I was making Diorama gourmand for dessert, and after I had suggested we have it the following day... We have to have it tonight! (toward the end I sped up the firming process by adjusting the freezer temperature to its lowest possible setting)

a slice of Diorama gourmand with its (nearly-set) sherbet center...
required moving fast from freezer to plate!

The Diorama gourmand really was... quite good! Though next time I should turn out the form onto a circle of waxed paper; then I'll be able to transfer the finished product onto a proper serving dish (and make it my signature dessert). And having done it once already, perhaps I can get more creative with the bittersweet chocolate leaves and powdered sugar on my next attempt!

Diorama Gourmand (Gourmet's Iced Diorama)

1 pint vanilla ice cream
Leaves of bittersweet chocolate
Powdered sugar 

Sorbet à l'Orange:

2 cups orange juice
1 lemon
1 ½ cups granulated sugar

• Make an orange sherbet by mixing the orange juice, the juice of 1 lemon, and a sugar syrup (made by dissolving the granulated sugar in 1 ½ cups water) together. Chill in the freezer until firm.
• Line a deep mold with vanilla ice cream. Fill the center with orange sherbet and return to the freezer for at least half an hour.
• Just before serving, unmold onto a paper doily. Decorate with leaves of bittersweet chocolate. For added effect, sprinkle with powdered sugar.

Every Tuesday a regular customer of Maxim's is invited to treat his friends to an original recipe of his own choosing. When we hear of a friend who prefers his grandmother's recipe book to the deceased's estate in Solonge, we like to think he has a Maxim's Tuesday in mind. Needless to say, this tradition of ours has much enriched our gastronomic archives. As the name implies, this recipe was contributed by the late Christian Dior.

Preparation: 20 minutes

Chilling: 2 hours 30 minutes

Adapted from the cookbook, Chez Maxim's: Secrets and Recipes from the World's Most Famous Restaurant, available at Amazon.com.

"A Table at Le Cirque" Cookbook Giveaway!

Stories and Recipes from New York's Most Legendary Restaurant

I recently posted on the FBTOT Facebook page, asking readers what they'd like to see in our latest giveaway. One reader asked for an apron; another, spices. But amidst the recent excitement surrounding the newly Rizzoli-published cookbook, A Table at Le Cirque, I have found this season's must have item!

Genius restaurateur, Sirio Maccioni at the launch party for A Table at Le Cirque
at Le Cirque, N.Y.C. on October 16, 2012

Monday night, I attended the launch party for A Table at Le Cirque: Stories and Recipes from New York's Most Legendary Restaurant aptly held at Le Cirque (New York). My good friend, Cynthia agreed to meet me there at 6:30, just thirty minutes after the event's start time. But just thirty minutes in, the room holding the event was already packed with wall-to-wall well-wishers and hobnobbers. I didn't dare attempt reaching for one of the quickly-disappearing hors d'œuvre (although I did get a taste of some delicious fried flounder) that were being passed about--I instead headed directly to the bar, where I waited in queue behind Carmen Dell'Orefice (later publications tell of Marc Murphy, Geoffrey Zakarian and Liz Smith also attending).

Ever since reading Sirio's story in the biography, Sirio: The Story of My Life and Le Cirque, I've become an immensely-admiring fan...

Through the kindness of Le Cirque restaurant, we will be giving one lucky winner a copy of A Table at Le Cirque: Stories and Recipes from New York's Most Legendary Restaurant! For your chance to win, simply send an email to: FromBehindTheOpenTable@gmail.com with "Le Cirque" in the subject line. You will automatically be signed up to receive FBTOT email updates* and one winner will be selected at random and announced on October 31st. Good luck!

*Email updates require user validation. You may choose to decline receiving updates if you so desire.

May I Call Myself "Cook" Yet?

THIS past week, I found myself (unintentionally) eating foods that were--nearly all--different shades of the same color. 

It's beet season;
I look forward to them all year

Now perhaps we can have an open discussion here, because I always thought of beet season as beginning in early fall (that's usually when I begin noticing them at farmers' markets). But the New York Times says you can judiciously purchase beets as early as June. I don't know if I'd really want to eat beets in the summer. Whatever the case may be, I recently picked up a few at the supermarket in hopes of cooking up some good grub with them!

Making up a recipe for beet soup as I go along...

The last time I'd purchased beets for cooking was two years ago, from my local farmers' market. I decided to mimic the beet dish we were serving at the then restaurant at which I was working--simply: beet and goat cheese salad. I Googled tips for boiling beets since I didn't quite remember the process from the last time... but this time around, I wasn't as pleased with (the flavor of) the beets as I previously was. Perhaps it was because I'd sliced the beets before boiling, in an attempt to shorten the boiling time, or perhaps it was because the beets simply were not as good as the ones from the farmers' market. However, I did think ahead to save the water used for boiling the beets. It sat in a two-quart container in my fridge for a couple of days before I finally decided to take a stab at concocting my own recipe for beet soup.

making homemade crème fraîche

I knew that I would purée the beets, add the beet water along with some heavy cream... and taste to figure out the rest as I went along. At the same time I prepped a homemade batch of crème fraîche, for which I'd found the recipe in my copy of The Way to Cook. While the crème fraîche sat "at room temperature for several hours," I added to the beet soup: dried fresh parsley (both Italian and curly, chopped), salt, pepper, garlic powder, a spoonful of horseradish, two generous spoonfuls of sour cream and a scant spoonful of extra virgin olive oil--constantly tasting as I went along. Once the taste and consistency was just right, I stopped.

Had I the time, I would have let the crème fraîche sit longer...

yet, its consistency seemed alright by me

I also knew that I wanted to add a dollop of crème fraîche to the finished soup, but that I also wanted to add something more... I decided to make a fresh batch of garlicky croutons.

whipping up a handful of fresh croutons

Reaching into one of several sackfuls of stale bread, brought home from work, I selected a few thick slices from which I cut the most uniform cubes possible. I then brushed all sides of the pieces with olive oil and quickly chopped two medium-sized cloves of garlic. I threw it all into a pan, over medium-high heat then finished the croutons in the toaster oven, until crispy, at about 225°.

Are you jealous of this soup?

you should be

This beet soup--with its crispy on the outside, yet tender on the inside croutons--was so good, I could have died (from knowing that I made it). The dried parsley added dimension and texture and the crème fraîche was a pleasing touch (although probably not a necessary addition). I had the soup for both lunch and dinner.

"sii floating island"

As I'd previously mentioned, my next attempt with sii (Swiss mountain peasant dessert dish) was going to be my own variation of a floating island. Earlier that afternoon, I'd scooped up the remaining sii and reduced it on the stovetop. I then scooped the reduced sii into a small glass jar and after cooling, placed it in the fridge to firm up. By dinnertime, the sii was chilled enough for what I'd hoped would be a successful and intact extraction from jar to bowl. Unfortunately, I had to use a metal spear to separate the edges of the sii from the sides of the jar... marring its surface a bit.

the surface a bit marred from its extraction... but nothing
that a little cinnamon won't help to distract!

As stated previously, this dish makes such a good cold-weather treat with its dense and rich, dark flavors. And I do recommend letting the bread and raisins soak for at least an additional day or so (after combining) before cooking and serving; five days later, just look at how plump those raisins get--they're nearly reconstituted grapes!

Crème fraîche à la Julia Child 

(from her cookbook, The Way to Cook)

To make 2 cups of crème fraîche:

Whisk 1 cup (½ pint) of chilled heavy cream and 1 cup of chilled sour cream in a bowl until lightly thickened. If you wish, let it sit out at room temperature for several hours to thicken and sour a little more. Refrigerate in a covered container, where it will keep a week or so--or until it takes on a bitter taste.

The Way to Cook is available for purchase at Amazon.com.

Sii (Swiss Bread Cream)

sii for one

FRIDAY morning, I continued the two day process for making sii. When I went into the kitchen, one of the first things I'd noticed was the plumped-up raisins, swollen with wine!

I had to restrain myself from consuming
(all of) the raisins, as-is!

Next, I reduced some blackcurrant juice into 'a generous glassful' of blackcurrant syrup. 

blackcurrant syrup isn't the easiest thing to find; I found
this blackcurrant juice at Westside Market for $2

While the juice was reducing on the stovetop, I used a potato masher to crush the soaked bread to a pulp.

the wine-soaked bread, crushed to a pulp

The blackcurrant juice reduced, I added my best guess for a generous glassful to the pulp...

the juice didn't reduce quite as I'd wished... but
the flavor did become more concentrated

followed by the drained raisins.

I think this is going to be good

Next, I decided to follow the steps for "gourmet sii" and added some nutmeg, a dash of pepper and some cinnamon.

just a touch of seasoning seemed right

The final step for making sii is to reduce it on the stove into a custard-like consistency.

using a tablespoon of (unsalted)
butter to reduce a ladleful of sii

According to the recipe, sii should be served with Chantilly cream (whipped cream). However, in the excitement surrounding my sii-making endeavor, I forgot to pick up heavy cream that morning. Alas, I had the sii sans whipped cream... and was not thrilled with the experience. I'd told David about the sii and he said that it sounded pretty acidic and that it needed the whipped cream. Two days later, I prepared a second ladleful of sii.

second run

As you can tell from the above photo, I've yet to master whipping cream. As I lifted the lid from the covered casserole dish used to hold the sii, I was surprised to find that the bread had soaked up even more wine... and that the raisins had gotten plumper! It still took about the same amount of time to reduce on the stovetop, but the final result seemed a bit darker.

not the prettiest of presentations -
perhaps I'll get that on the third run

However, this time: the flavors--most likely concentrated over the three days--seemed to make much more sense. Where they seemed somewhat random and disjointed the first time, seemed much more purposeful... and satisfying the second time. "A solid hot wine or a liquid gingerbread" as the recipe implies, it's an ideal cold-weather treat. Perhaps on my third try, I'll mold the sii into a small glass or jar and turn it out into a bowl, surrounded by my "failed whipped cream" for my own take on a floating island.

Two New Recipes At Once

The "pommes Maxim's" men... from my latest cookbook, Chez Maxim's

THE above almost was one of my prior maître d' uniforms... except that I didn't wear a white bow tie--mine was black (and I didn't have a fancy tray of hot potatoes to carry about). My latest recipe attempt is from the 1962 cookbook, Chez Maxim's: Secrets and Recipes from the World's Most Famous Restaurant. After flipping through the book's pages, I was thrilled to have found a singular cookbook from which I could draw enough recipes to make a proper (three course) meal. (using recipes from various sources can sometimes lead to a "disjointed" dinner) I decided to attempt the simplest recipe first: pommes Maxim's (scalloped potato cake).

this recipe calls for no less than 2½ sticks of butter

At the supermarket, I referred to my shopping list which listed two sticks of butter (I had another at home), but for the amount of potatoes, I recalled from memory: one pound. To my surprise, one pound of potatoes was not even two (potatoes)! For a moment, I thought that I had mis-memorized the recipe (How could two and a half sticks of butter be used for less than two potatoes?). Yet, I was dealing with a French recipe; I took faith that my memory had served me correctly.

as Judith Jones once said,
"How can you cook well without using butter?"

Home: after peeling; washing; and drying the two potatoes, I started slicing thin slices, removing about a quarter wedge so that my 1.4 pounds would equal the one pound that the recipe had called for. Reaching for the butter which I'd melted in the oven as it was pre-heating, I drenched the potatoes (seasoned with salt and freshly-ground black pepper) in a large baking pan.

potatoes well-bathed in butter

The next step was forty minutes in a hot (425°) oven. Forty minutes later, this is what I'd pulled out:

sizzling hot butter

I'd left the potatoes unchecked for a full forty minutes; they came out a bit "well-done." Yet, upon first bite they'd tasted as good as my kitchen had been smelling... if not better! I had to stop myself from my oven-side sampling, lest I ruin my appetite for dinner.

both crispy and tender

Pommes Maxim's

Meanwhile, while keeping the "pommes Maxim's" warm in the oven, I'd begun the first steps in making sii.

sii: a use for stale bread

I'd found the recipe for sii back when I first began bringing home day-old bread from work (which is thrown out otherwise). What drew me to the recipe, initially, was that you could use the stalest of stale breads to make it. (traditionally it uses Valaisian rye bread, which after a week requires an axe to cut it)

the first step is cutting the bread into walnut-sized pieces

After cutting the bread into the appropriate sizes, I covered them in a "strong red wine."

"the next day even the hardest bread will be soft"

... and a handful of raisins soaking
in a separate container

By tomorrow, if all goes well, I'll be having this for dessert (or breakfast):

sii served with freshly-whipped cream

Pommes Maxim's (Scalloped Potato Cake)

Serves 2-3

1 lb. potatoes

1 ½ cups butter

Salt

Freshly ground pepper

• Melt the butter. 
• Peel the potatoes, wash and dry them, and cut them in small thin slices. 
• Put in a bowl, season with salt and pepper, pour in the melted butter, and mix thoroughly together.
• Spread a shallow layer (about ½ inch thick) of these potatoes over the bottom of a large well-buttered ovenware dish. Bake in a hot oven (425°) for about 40 minutes or until crisp and golden. 
• Turn out of the dish onto a warmed serving platter.

Adapted from the cookbook, Chez Maxim's: Secrets and Recipes from the World's Most Famous Restaurant, available at Amazon.com.

Butternut Squash in Cream & Cinnamon

YESTERDAY afternoon I finally found the time to make butternut squash in cream and cinnamon from the book, The Tenth Muse: My Life in Food by Judith Jones.

fully prepped and ready for the oven

Over the weekend, I'd stopped at (my favorite) Westside Market to pick up a squash and other provisions. I must admit to cheating a bit with this recipe; instead of buying one whole, two-pound squash, I bought two 20 oz. packages of peeled, seeded and cubed butternut squash--only because I was at my trusted grocer, from whom I'd also purchased one choice heirloom tomato and a package of wild-caught flat filets of anchovies packed in salt and olive oil (which might I add were mighty fine).

a snack to hold me over while the
butternut squash was baking

Quoting Judith Jones, "the food processor... [makes] the grating a snap" for this recipe which requires grating the two-pound squash (after peeling, seeding and quartering it). I used my handy Osterizer fourteen-speed blender on its grate setting. (I found that using five or so 1 to 1½" cubes at a time works best. You want a few to bounce up and hit the lid of the blender at the start.) 

The next step was to spread half of the grated squash over the bottom of a shallow baking dish, sprinkle with salt and cinnamon, and repeat with the rest. The final step is to slowly pour one cup heavy cream over the squash, allowing it to seep down. After about fifty minutes in a 350° oven, this was the end result:

I had to do a little poking here and there to test for
doneness, but I don't think I marred it too much

This recipe was so simple and its results so delicious that I think it'd be the perfect accompaniment for any of the upcoming seasonal festivities.

Butternut Squash in Cream and Cinnamon 

Serves 6

1 large butternut squash (at least 2 pounds)

Salt

1 teaspoon cinnamon

1 cup heavy cream

• Cut the squash into quarters, remove the seeds, and peel it (a sharp vegetable peeler is the best tool). 
• Grate the squash through the coarse holes of the grating blade of the food processor. 
• Spread half of the grated squash over the bottom of a shallow 1- or ½-quart baking dish, sprinkle salt over lightly, then dust with half of the cinnamon; repeat with the rest. 
• Pour the cream over slowly, letting it seep down. 
• Bake, covered loosely with foil, in a preheated 350-degree oven for 40 minutes, then uncover and bake another 10 to 15 minutes, until the squash is very tender.

The Tenth Muse: My Life in Food is available for purchase at Amazon.com.

A Trip to Ithaca

Cascadilla Glen at the base of Cascadilla Gorge

EARLY Sunday morning I boarded an Ithaca-bound Greyhound bus to visit David, who was to perform in a concert at Ithaca College later that afternoon. After a cup of organic coffee from GreenStar Natural Foods Market, a taxi picked me up to transport me to David's apartment located off the border of Cornell's campus. David greeted me with a spread of baked goods from Collegetown Bagels (ironically, only good for things other than bagels) with butter, jam, tea and chocolates. Later that evening, post-concert, we ended up at Maxie's Supper Club & Oyster Bar.

shrimp & grits with grilled andouille sausage

Even though I'd had my heart set on tasting some local "Ithacan fare," Maxie's "southern comfort" was a welcome taste on my palate (I'd found myself in a discussion with some foodies at our table to whom I'd proclaimed that my two favorite cuisines are French and comfort food)! I started with a tasty, seasonal cider sidecar followed by a selection of oysters and a half order of shrimp & grits topped with grilled andouille sausage. It was definitely up there with the best I'd ever had!

THE following day David and I walked to one of the nearby gorges, Cascadilla Gorge, where I was able to experience the colloquialism "Ithaca is gorges" firsthand.

overlooking Cascadilla Falls

We walked through the four-hundred-foot-high gorge which has a trail running from Cornell campus, at the top, down to downtown Ithaca. At the foot of the gorge, David and I were able to closely examine the exposed sedimentary rock from 400 million years ago when they were once the muddy floor of an ancient ocean! Once we'd reached downtown, we walked to the commons and browsed through a handful of rather intriguing antique and vintage shops. Soon, getting hungry, David and I stopped at Shortstop Deli--current home to Hot Truck's famous pizza subs (the original Hot Truck, located just off the Cornell campus on Stewart Avenue, seems to be currently defunct).

Had I known that what we were ordering was somewhat of a piece of history, I would have documented it with a few photos. Bob Petrillose, who opened the Hot Truck in 1960, was the inventor of French bread pizza (later licensed to Stouffer's) which he dubbed "PMP" (poor man's pizza). In 2004, having been successful for over forty years, Hot Truck's pizza subs were famously written about in Gourmet magazine. Later in 2008, Serious Eats posted an obituary of Mr. Petrillose. David and I ordered the "MBC" sub, with crushed meatballs and added onions, which I gathered must have stood for "meatball-cheese." 

green zebra tomatoes

Early evening, David and I had to part ways briefly so he could attend studio class; we later reconnected for a quick dinner before heading back downtown for birthday cocktails with a fellow schoolmate of his. With a few of the ingredients we'd picked up earlier that afternoon at GreenStar Natural Foods Market, David whipped up a lovely dinner while I opened a bottle of Jaume Serra sparkling wine! With a fresh head of Boston lettuce (roots still attached), David made a simple salad with feta dressed in a freshly made Dijon mustard vinaigrette. It was the best Boston lettuce I'd ever had! There were also apples, some cheddar and a bowlful of freshly roasted almonds (unfortunately, I have a slight intolerance for the raw variety).

simple, yet delicious!

But David's pièce de résistance was the green zebra tomatoes served on crispbread! It was my first time having zebra tomatoes and I can't believe I've missed their entire season! Our mutual love for (heirloom) tomatoes has led David and I to many an experimentation with them. According to David, he's come to discover that the best way to serve tomatoes of the heirloom variety is to serve them simply sliced; on Wasa crispbread dressed with mayonnaise seasoned with a bit of dried garlic; and a sprinkling of sea salt atop the tomatoes. Some breads are just too strong (in flavor) for the heirloom tomato's delicate flavor. As is most often the case, good food (real and fresh food) doesn't require much ado to taste that way!

Can't make it to Ithaca to try a Hot Truck pizza sub? Try this Hot Truck recipe provided by foodnetwork.com!