The Chef's Dream Dinner Story

A week ago this Saturday past, I performed and delivered a meal which may well be the acme of my nascent catering career. DinnersByGlenn has been auctioned off several times to raise money for schools and churches, and commands now just under $1000US for a service to eight participants. Included are appetizers, mains, sides, and dessert; occasionally thrown in are breads, salads, soups. The meal is planned with an interview at the home of the hostess, the ingredients are acquired beforehand, in fact, much is prepared several days in advance. Cooking, serving, and cleaning are all provided, and the kitchen is left clean; sometimes cleaner than it was found.

These are friends. This makes it doubly harrowing, and I don't use that word lightly, and you know that I have many, many words from which to choose. Strangers, it's not so bad. But with friends, it has to be perfect. Nothing under- or over-done; no sauces separated; plating must be perfect; timing perfect; each dish must be the best that they have ever had of that food. It all comes out on time, Glenn hovering in the background, listening for that sweet sound of silence, jaws working, tongues tasting, throats reluctantly swallowing, forks eager for more, and plates clean. Not that you have to eat it all because there are children starving in North Korea, but because it was so good that you were compelled to finish.

Not everyone likes Tapenade. Especially made in the classic way: olives, anchovies, capers, mustard, garlic, cognac. An intensely flavorful paste, made two days before, a light sheen of olive oil resting on its surface, it really takes a mature palate to appreciate each flavor muscling its way among the others. This was balanced by a light orange pepper salsa, served in filo cups. Cups, I get at the supermarket, the salsa is an orange or two run through the processor with peppers, green onions, cilantro, and a little sesame oil. Very light; refreshing. But the star of our pre-prandial show was the lobster guacamole. A single lobster, on sale no less, boiled after a quick cranial stab, chilled, minced by hand, and mixed with a guacamole already graced with lightly sauteed shallots and Key Lime juice. Probably 745 calories per dip, but the look of pure sensual satisfaction on the the gowns was reminiscient of other satisfactions. The chips were pita slices, a drop of olive oil and a few grains of sel de mer, baked.

A simple pork roast, six and one half pounds, marinated in tequila and more Key Lime juice. A simple crust of toasted herbs: Garlic, Rosemary, and hand-mortared black pepper. Their flavors intensified in a seasoned iron skillet, and applied to the roast, all over. Indirectly grilled over natural charcoal, NEVER chemical briquets, and basted with a hand-made vegetable broth. Timing is critical, but Experience is the steady hand that ensures all the players take the stage at once; internal temperature pulls the cut from the flames, and resting brings it to its mark on cue. NEVER cut the meat, ANY meat before it's rested its due time. No matter what the client, your lover, or drunk Cousin Enid says. Tell them you'd be happy to cut their meat right now if they don't leave your kitchen.

A simple rice, Arborio, brought to perfect al dente resistance by the slow, careful addition of liquid. In this case, the juice of a dozen cucumbers, lovingly reduced by the beautiful Lady Anita, slaving in the scullery throughout the previous night, and heated in a beaten copper pot right alongside the rice. Keep the cooking liquid hot, or you will screw up the cooking time for the rice. Add, stir, add, stir, add and stir; this is a labor-intensive process that cannot be ignored for even a second, although it is possible to take the pot off the heat and let the rice sit for a minute, as it continues to absorb liquid. And at the right time, the last cup has been added, and a generous handful of roasted red peppers, diced, is added, and the pot is covered. A cold tablespoon of water, or maybe some more Key Lime juice, brings the process to a halt. The complete recipe is here.

Every meal has to have a protein, a vegetable, and a starch. Thank you, Mom. I like vegetables. I like lots of different kinds of vegetables steamed, sauteed, roasted, grilled, raw, but rarely boiled. However, a part of this dish involves a boiled vegetable. During my interview with the hostess, she reveals that she really doesn't like onions or peppers or zucchini or squash, or much of anything that's available right now. She does however, like artichokes and tomatoes, and fortunately for me, artichokes are big and fat in the stores right now, so I went out and bought four and some of those vine-ripened tomatoes. Two nights before the dinner, I boiled the artichokes. That is to say, I trimmed off their stem, cut off their tops, a little balsamic vinegar and salt, and water up to about their middle, then on the stove, covered. The water was a nice rolling boil, not a violent, cover-shaking boil, for about a half an hour. Pierced with a knife, the bottom should be firm, but yielding; but not too yielding, because there was more cooking to do. Then I bathed them in cold water to stop this cooking, rested them upside down on a plate, and popped them into the fridge.

Now the dish. I stripped off all the leaves and choke, and cubed them, about an inch or so. Chopped the tomatoes likewise, with all the water and seeds. If you don't like the seeds, you can just pick them out when you chop the tomatoes, but I know they have flavor in them. Then I minced two shallots. I love shallots. I love everything about shallots. Butter and wine and shallots and heat gives you a wonderful classic sauce that adapts to meat or fish or vegetables. Please use a wine that you would enjoy dringing right out of the bottle. So now the foam is off the butter, and the wine is hot and the little shallot pieces are soft; I throw in the cubed artichoke hearts and heat them through. And they absorb the beautiful sauce, and they will soon finish cooking so that they are now al dente like the rice. A little salt and pepper. Did I mention that the hostess has Basil in her garden? A few leaves, crushed in your fingers, added along with the diced tomatoes. When it's all hot and fragrant, and it is extremely fragrant, take it off and squeeze a half a lemon into the pan. Now cover it and put it on a cold burner, or take it off the stove.

Are you following me? Is it confusing to switch from past to present tense? I'm trying to tell you a story and give you the recipe at the same time. Of course, not the exact recipe, but close enough.

OK. We have a protein, the beautiful pork; a starch, the light, yet flavorful rice; and a vegetable, the tomato-artichoke compote. But wait! There's more! I scored(now I'm aging myself) some excellent salmon filets, again, on sale, and have enough so that everyone can have about six ounces. But only if they cower and beg like the unworthy curs they are! Behold! The Tongs of Doom! Just kidding. Remember the cucumber essence that the lovely Anita extracted to use for the rice? We still have some of that left. Again with the butter, wine and shallots: let the foam subside, add the shallots until soft, add the wine to a boil, and now add a few cups of the cucumber liquid. It should still be warm from cooking the rice. I laid the filets in the pan, skin side up, and cooked them until the flesh turned right up the the edge of the skin. Now they're cooked, and hot all the way through, but not overdone, and I lifted them gently out of the pan with a couple of spatulas and put them on a broiler pan. A very light drizzle of honey, back and forth on the skin, and they're ready for the broiler. Broil them until the skin chars; even people that don't like fish will be eating this skin. And the skin is very, very nutritious!

So, we're ready to plate! Shoo everyone out of the kitchen, except for a single helper, and design the plate. These plates were oval: so I have a couple of slices of pork on one end, with some drippings; a spoonful of rice and a spoonful of tomato-artichoke side by side in the middle; and a generous piece of salmon on the other end, with a nice dollop of herbed creme fraiche next to it. I herbed the creme fraiche with the same mix of herbs that I had toasted and crusted the pork roast with, but light, just a hint. Now serve and watch them enjoy. Wouldn't you know? They want me to join them at the table! Now the last thing I want to do after cooking is to eat, but, as I said, these are friends, and they are serving a nice Pinot. So I take a bite of the tomato-artichoke compote; even I'm impressed. The pork needs to come out at 145Degrees and rest up to 150; the rice is perfect, I can even taste the roasted peppers; and the salmon is hot, tasty, and juicy. And the table is silent. These people can't eat enough of this fast enough. Nobody's stuffed, but certainly sated, and the client is happy.

We had Creme Brulee for dessert. This is a very simple dish: eggs, sugar, cream. But, because I can rarely leave well enough alone, I made a little syrup to go in it. Strawberries are in season right now. So I buy a pint, wash and hull them, and boil them down in a heavy pan with some Apple Cider Vinegar and a little Cinnamon. I press this through a sieve and cook it some more, then pass it through a cheesecloth to get out all the particles and let it cool. Right before the custard goes into the oven for baking, I put a tablespoon of this syrup in the center of each ramekin and swirl it with a stick. Each dish now has a little red star in the middle of it. Very cute. Bake til set, chill overnight, etc. At the dinner, I cover each with some Turbinado Sugar, and apply my little torch. Did I just say little torch? This thing is a toy; I need one of those real Butane torches you see plumbers using, because it took me five minutes for each dish. Dad always says: "The right tool for the right job." Next time. And each dish gets a little spoonful of Creme Fraiche that has had some chocolate added to it. They've all had Creme Brulee in restaurants, but the crust on this is perfect, and they've got a little blob of creamy chocolate stuff on top. And, Suprise! a spicy strawberry part inside! They're transported. Again, even I am impressed.

There you have it.