Read Around My French Table Online
Authors: Dorie Greenspan
Around My French Table (52 page)
Return the meat to the pot, give the pot a stir, and gently heat everything through before serving.
MAKES 6 SERVINGS
SERVING
Martine often serves the veal with simple steamed potatoes—an ideal accompaniment—but it's good with rice or noodles too. Anything that benefits from a little sauce will be welcome with this dish.
STORING
While you can cook the veal in the broth as much as a day ahead, once you've made the sauce, you should get the dish to the table.
T
HESE DAYS, IT'S NATURAL TO CALL
something a classic that it's easy to forget the dishes that, having truly stood the test of time, not only deserve the title, but might even define it. One of those dishes is veal Marengo. Found on menus all over France, it was first made in 1800 by Napoleon Bonaparte's chef in honor of the general's success at the Battle of Marengo, fought against the Austrians on Italian soil. Some believe that the dish was created with supplies that were at hand, and that's plausible, since, minus the garnish of mushrooms, baby onions, and parsleyed potatoes, the ingredients are basic: cubes of veal, tomatoes, onions, and white wine.
This rendition of veal Marengo comes from Le Cordon Bleu in Paris and specifically the notebook of my friend Alice Vasseur, who was a student there when she was just eight years old. And, yes, the kids got to cook with wine.
| FOR THE VEAL | |
| All-purpose flour, for dredging | |
| Salt and freshly ground pepper | |
| 1¾ | pounds boneless veal shoulder, cut into 2-inch cubes |
| 2 | tablespoons mild oil (such as grapeseed or canola) |
| 2 | tablespoons unsalted butter |
| 1 | medium onion, coarsely chopped |
| ¾ | cup drained canned diced tomatoes (or peeled, seeded, and chopped fresh tomatoes) |
| 2 | tablespoons tomato paste |
| ¾ | cup dry white wine |
| A bouquet garni—2 thyme sprigs, 2 parsley sprigs, 1 rose-mary sprig, and 1 bay leaf, tied together in a piece of dampened cheesecloth | |
| | |
| FOR THE VEGETABLES | |
| About 3 tablespoons unsalted butter | |
| 12 | cipolline or small white boiling onions |
| Salt and freshly ground pepper | |
| 1 | cup water |
| 8 | white mushrooms, caps only, wiped clean and halved |
| 8 | baby potatoes, peeled or unpeeled |
| Chopped fresh parsley, for garnish |
Center a rack in the oven and preheat the oven to 325 degrees F. Have a large oven-going skillet with a lid at hand. Cut a parchment paper circle large enough to cover the pan.
Season some flour with salt and pepper. Pat the veal cubes dry between sheets of paper towels and run the veal through the flour, coating all sides and tapping to shake off the excess.
Put the skillet over medium-high heat and add the oil. When it's hot, slip in some of the veal cubes—you don't want to crowd the pan, so you may need
to cook the veal in batches. Cook the cubes just until they're brown on all sides, then transfer them to a plate.
Discard whatever oil remains in the pan, return the pan to medium heat, and add the butter. When it melts, toss in the onion and cook, stirring, until it softens, about 5 minutes. Stir in the tomatoes, tomato paste, wine, and bouquet garni. Add the veal and give everything a good stir, stirring up whatever bits may have stuck to the pan, and bring just to a boil. Taste for salt and pepper.
Cover the pan with the parchment circle (this will keep the liquids from evaporating) and the lid, and put it in the oven. Cook for 30 minutes, undisturbed.
MEANWHILE, MAKE THE VEGETABLES:
Melt 1 tablespoon of the butter in a small saucepan. Toss in the onions and turn them around in the butter until they're glossy. Season with salt and pepper, then pour in the water and bring to a boil. Lower the heat to a simmer and cook the onions until they are tender enough to be pierced with the tip of a knife, at which point the water should have evaporated. If the onions are cooked and you still have water in the pan, boil it away. Set the glazed onions aside.
Melt 1 tablespoon of the butter in a small skillet over medium heat. Add the mushrooms, season with salt and pepper, and cook, stirring, until they soften, about 5 minutes. If the pan goes dry, add a bit more butter. Set the mushrooms aside.
Put a pot of salted water on to boil for the potatoes.
Remove the skillet of veal from the oven. To make veal Marengo the traditional way, transfer the veal cubes to a bowl, cover, and keep them warm. Remove and discard the bouquet garni, then strain the sauce; discard the chopped onion. (If you don't want to fuss with this step, you can skip it.) Return the veal to the pan if you removed it, and add the glazed onions and mushrooms. Bring the sauce to a simmer over low heat (you won't have a lot of sauce, but that's fine), cover the pan, and allow the dish to bubble away very gently for 10 minutes or so while you cook the potatoes.
Drop the potatoes into the boiling water and cook until you can pierce them easily with the tip of a knife, about 10 minutes; drain well.
Put the potato pot back over low heat and add the remaining 1 tablespoon butter. When the butter has melted, return the potatoes to the pot—be gentle with them now that they're cooked—and turn them around in the butter until they're coated. If necessary, add a little more butter.
Spoon the veal, onions, and mushrooms into the center of a heated serving platter or four dinner plates, surround with the boiled potatoes, and finish with a flurry of chopped parsley, giving the lion's share of the parsley to the taters.
MAKES 4 SERVINGS
SERVING
While I often arrange individual dinner plates in the kitchen, I like to serve this dish family-style, bringing it to the table on a large platter with the veal on one side and the parsleyed potatoes on the other.
STORING
You can make the dish up to a day ahead. Reheat it in a covered skillet over low heat—it's good to do this with a parchment circle in place. However, it's best to boil and butter-glaze the potatoes right before serving.
V
EAL CHOPS ARE AS EXPENSIVE IN FRANCE
as they are in America, but here's the nice thing: you don't have to do much to make them great. In fact, with veal chops, the less-is-more adage is the one to follow. For this dish, a favorite of mine because it's quick and easy, the chops are pan-roasted, sauced with a mix of white wine and chicken broth, and topped with a pat of made-in-advance rosemary butter.
There's only one caveat about cooking veal—don't cook it too much. It's delicate, and if you overcook it, its texture will be too tight. Start with the chops at room temperature, and they'll need only about 2 minutes on a side to be perfect.
BE PREPARED:
Make the rosemary butter and season the chops a day in advance, and they'll both have more flavor. Just make sure to take the chops out of the refrigerator at least 1 hour before you plan to cook them.
| FOR THE ROSEMARY BUTTER | |
| 4 | tablespoons (½ stick) unsalted butter, at room temperature |
| 1 | teaspoon chopped fresh rosemary |
| ½ | teaspoon chopped fresh thyme |
| Generous pinch of salt | |
| | |
| FOR THE CHOPS | |
| 4 | veal rib chops, each about 12 ounces and 1 inch thick, at room temperature |
| 3-4 | tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil |
| 1 | teaspoon minced fresh rose mary, plus 1 rosemary sprig |
| ¾ | teaspoon minced fresh thyme |
| Salt and freshly ground pepper | |
| 1 | large garlic clove, smashed (there's no need to peel it) |
| 3 | tablespoons dry white wine |
| 3 | tablespoons chicken broth (you can make this from a bouillon cube) |
TO MAKE THE ROSEMARY BUTTER:
Using a rubber spatula, beat the butter in a small bowl until it is smooth and very creamy. Stir in the rosemary, thyme, and salt, and turn the butter out onto a piece of plastic wrap. Use the plastic to shape the butter into a log about 1½ inches in diameter. Wrap the log well and chill it for at least 2 hours.
(Wrapped airtight, the butter can be refrigerated for 1 week or frozen for up to 3 months.)
TO MAKE THE CHOPS:
Put the chops in a large baking dish (a Pyrex pan is perfect), drizzle with 1 to 2 tablespoons of the olive oil, sprinkle with the minced rosemary and thyme, and season with salt and pepper. Rub the oil and seasonings into both sides of the chops.
(You can season the chops up to 1 day ahead; cover and keep them in the refrigerator. Let stand for 1 hour at room temperature before cooking.)
Put a large heavy skillet over medium-high heat, pour in 2 tablespoons olive oil, add the rosemary sprig and smashed garlic, and cook, stirring, until the garlic is fragrant but not browned, about 2 minutes. Pull out and discard the rosemary and garlic and raise the heat to high. Slip the chops into the pan and cook for 2 minutes, or until the undersides of the chops are golden brown. Turn and cook for 2 minutes more (or until an instant-read thermometer inserted into the center of a chop reads 130 degrees F). Transfer the chops to a warm serving platter and cover loosely with a foil tent.
Pour out whatever fat remains in the skillet and put the skillet over medium-high heat. Add the wine and cook, stirring to scrape up any browned bits that have stuck to the bottom of the pan, until only about 2 teaspoons remain, about 30 seconds. Add the chicken broth and cook until you have about 2 tablespoons liquid in the skillet, about 30 seconds. Remove from the heat and drizzle the sauce over the chops.
Divide the rosemary butter into 4 pieces and top each chop with a pat; serve immediately.
MAKES 4 SERVINGS
SERVING
You can never go wrong serving a veal chop with potatoes—it's a classic combination—but for a change, try the chops with Celery Root Puree (
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).
STORING
The butter can be made ahead and refrigerated for 1 week or frozen for up to 3 months, and the chops can be seasoned up to 1 day ahead and stored in the fridge.
The French eat the way most Europeans do: efficiently, with a marked economy of motion. In America we cut food using a fork in our left hand and a knife in our right, then put the knife down, transfer the fork to our right hand, place our left hand in our lap, and direct the fork mouthward. It's a complicated ballet that we never think about once we've learned the steps. The French cut the food with a fork in their left hand and a knife in their right, then they eat the food from the fork, rarely relinquishing the knife. It's still a ballet; it's just that the French dance the allegro movement.
And when the knife and fork are put down, they're arranged as sign language: leaving the knife and fork separated, the knife on the right side of the plate, the fork on the left, ready to be picked up and used, says, "I'm still eating," while bringing the knife and fork together, so that they're parallel to one another, says, "I'm finished."
While we're at the table, here's another little difference: the French keep both hands on the table at all times. Elbows are allowed between courses and among good friends, but no matter where and with whom, you take a poker-game position, keeping both hands from mid-forearm up in view at all times. I'm not sure about the custom's origin—it might have had to do with trust, or a lack of it, in an earlier era—but now that I've gotten used to it, I like it.
With both hands at the ready, it's easy to jump into an animated conversation, easier still to lift a hand to your lips, make a little kiss motion, and compliment the cook for a dish well made.
