Foodie Anniversary

I love weddings. Even better, weddings with good food. Our wedding had a huge spread of yummy treats, and so in tribute every year, we spend our anniversary indulging in foodie heaven.

Actually, the last two years we have been to the same place. Campagnola in Evanston is in the same circle of restaurants as Bistro Campagne in Lincoln square, and Union also in Evanston. We really enjoy their compressed menu, especially since they do not focus on pastas, like so many Italian joints here in the states. With an impressive list of antipasti including grilled radicchio, and various cold salads, along with a large secondi selection, this small darkened restaurant creates an authentic feel that is quite romantic. We were lucky to still get thier winter menu before it changed at the end of the week.

We started the evening with a glass of prosecco, and two antipasti. First we ordered the beef carpaccio - done almost the same way I had it in Lucca - with capers, arugula with a lite lemon and olive oil toss, and parmesian. Our second was a must-get whenever we eat here. They have an especially good fire roasted octopus. It is slightly different each time we come, due to the menu cycles. This time the chef paired it with green beans and re onions and a little olive coulis, with lemon zest shavings being the real light of the dish.

Whenever we dine here there is another dish that the husband insists that we have. They do a particularly good ragu with parpedelle, and if you ask, the server will kindly have the kitchen split an order for you into two bowls.

For the main dish, the husband had a very tender beef short rib, with polenta and rapini, which he said were a little too spicy and difficult to eat, but were good. I had the breast of pheasant, wrapped in bacon, drizzled with a little herbed oil, served on a bed of Israeli couscous tossed with English peas and pork belly cubes.

We finished with a little dolci, he with blackberry sorbet, and I with a walnut cake cooked in a creme fresh custard.

I think it was slightly overindulgent, but who's counting! Remembering one's wedding should always be cause for celebration.

Stock you.

It's cold, and rainy, and I'm avoiding memorizing music. The husband has retreated to the den to fix the artistic world, and I'm drinking instant coffee from Starbucks. 

There are so many things not right about this picture, especially for a Saturday morn at 9am. 

What happened to the slow times?? I often comment that as Yanks - Americans in gen actually - we don't really understand the concept of "relax" and when we do, by the time there's time, we end up getting sick from our bodies getting ticked off at us.

In all the craziness of our world here at home, I decided this weekend I'd make some stocks. 

Different than broths - stocks are richer, more complex, darker, and generally just better.  I tend to think most companies that produce these kinds of ingredients don't like to market stocks because, well, they just take up too much darn time. We're talking about 12-14 hours total to produce (if you do it slow and right). Here's how you go about making a stock....

Get a lot of bones, of one kind of animal, unless you want like a strange kind for very specific dishes. For chicken use a whole carcase from a roaster, picked over for all the bits of meat still left. For beef, you can use those "soup bones" that they sometime have in the market - usually frozen. 

Put these bones into a roasting pan, or a oven safe container of some kind. Add one large onion cut up, one carrot, one stalk of celery. This is traditional. You can also throw in a few cloves of garlic. Or whatever other veg acout. that you like. Put into a 350 oven until it's brown, very deep brown. Not burnt but brown. 

This means the items have caramelized - all their sugars have been brought out to play in the sunshine, and now they're toasted!

Throw into a "stock" pot, top with cold water - a lot of cold water, like, 3 inches from the top full - throw in a bay leaf (or 3) some parsley sprigs, pepper corns, thyme sprigs, etc. It's great! As long as it's not dirty throw it in!!! You're gonna strain it all through a sieve later anyway!

Here comes the part that makes us all virtuous. Patience. 

You put this pot on the stove and simmer it (NOT BOIL) it for hours. I usually keep the lid on for at least 3 or 4 hours to really milk the flavor of the browned goodness submerged. Then I take it off and let it reduce for another 4-5 hours. Make sure you skim off the gross stuff on the surface every hour or so. That's the leftover junk from the bones that you don't want in your finished product.

Then Strain it, you can use cheese cloth, or a fine sieve, I use a sieve. 

Then I put it back in the pot and let it reduce a little more till it looks like the right color...what color? That's right, brown!!!

We usually keep a container in the fridge of about half, and then put the other half in the freezer. You can also put it into ice cube trays and the you'll have nuggets of stocky goodness to pull out whenever. 

If you keep reducing till there's almost no liquid left, it looks almost like a paste, this is a demi glace, and you can freeze this too. Then add a tablespoon of this to sauces, etc. 

I hope you'll try to make your own stock. Start using instead of broth for sauces, and soups. Though sometimes using a broth is the way to go, usually a chicken broth. Try the recipes both ways, one with broth and one stock. See which you like better. Kitchen basics also as a great line. 

You'll notice I didn't talk about adding salt. I like to only salt a tiny bit in the first stage, before roasting. This way you can completely control how much salt is in your final, FINAL product. I'm talking about the sauce or soup you use it in. Look on the back of a supermarket stock sometime, then ask yourself if you want to eat all that salt.

So enjoy the rainy day, take a few moments to throw some old bones and badly cut veggies into a pot. Make your own stock! It's so easy, even a French peasant in 1643 could do it, why not you!

Restaurant Week...

Restaurant week was one of those thing last year that I really regretted missing. I think I was in Virginia while it was going on, and I missed the pre-fixed menu obsession that comes with the event. In Chicago, one week a year (though I think this week's event has been extended) you can go to some of Chicago's most select and order a three course lunch or dinner for fairly cheap. Places such a Nomi, Bin 36, and Cafe des Architectes seat you for minimal dollar.

This year we had time to go to lunch at Cafe des Architects in the Sofitel hotel lobby. We wanted to try for dinner, but due to busy lives and already booked reservations, lunch was all we could get in for.

Instead of a 3-course lunch, these guys did a 4-course, mirroring their Executive Express Lunch which the restaurant serves on a daily basis.

The meals come on one large white square plate, with 4 inner square plates, and the portions are quite small. We started with a Cauliflower soup with maybe a hint of truffle oil, or maybe it was just the mushrooms that topped. The Second course was "Octopus salad".

I love Octopus. and I love salads made of julienned apple. These two things mixed do not go well together however. It was much more satisfying to eat a bit of one then the other. And the cider vinegar dressing was way to overpowering.

We had a cut of hanger steak with a standard demiglace and some pureed root veggies. Pretty good, though nothing that blew my mind. And we finished with two small slices of a chocolate gateau. These were great, their pastry chef is a smart man. They had the wafer crispies in the bottom layer and I felt very child like eating them...except that I was surrounded by stuffy diners.

This place made me wonder about dining in NYC. It felt so claustrophobic and staunch that I was kind of uncomfortable. Not that I was going to do the wrong thing or eat with the wrong fork. But it was a sense that everyone there was trying to compensate for something else. Our waiter was great, but oh so formal. It completely contrasted the open modern whimsy of the space.

A well-to-do executive and his wife (or mistress) came in to eat. They sat near us on the other end of the two tops. They looked very busy and important, and the chef came out and chatted with them for a good 10 minutes.

They had burgers.