Thai-Style Scallops and Asparagus

Scallops plus asparagus and Thai flavors was all I needed to know. I saw this dish in the food section on The New York Times site last week, and it immediately became a part of our weekend dining plans. With the current fling I’m having with asparagus and scallops’ unwavering appeal, this meal was sure to be a hit. That being said, I made some minor changes to the suggested preparations. First, Kurt and I both prefer for large scallops to be seared. While we agree on that point, Kurt also feels that sauce should never cover scallops once they’re seared because tampering with that seared bit of crust on the surface should be illegal. So, rather than cooking the scallops in the sauce as was recommended, I seared them separately and set them on top of the asparagus and sauce for serving. Another change I made was simply due to laziness. I didn’t feel the need to make fish stock for a mere one-third cup, so I used water and added a little fish sauce instead. Last, since I have a cute, little kaffir lime tree growing in a container on my front porch, I grabbed a few leaves from it to slice thinly for garnishing.

I made the curry paste mostly as directed by the recipe. Shallots, cores of lemon grass bulbs, ginger, garlic, anchovy paste, coriander, lime juice, and lime zest were mixed in a food processor. Oil was heated in a saute pan, and the curry paste was added. Asparagus, and I used more than suggested because I couldn’t help myself, was cut into small pieces and added to the curry paste. Then, I added water and fish sauce instead of fish stock, more coconut milk than suggested because I used more asparagus than suggested, and sriracha, and allowed the asparagus and sauce to simmer. Meanwhile, I seared the scallops in a separate pan, and all the while jasmine rice was steaming. The rice was served on the side, and the scallops were set on top of the asparagus and sauce making sure that nothing sauce-like came in contact with the top of the scallops.

The spiciness level can be determined by the amount of sriracha added, and I boosted it just a bit, but I didn’t want to overshadow the flavor of the scallops. The simple curry paste was a breeze to make, and I’m now certain I need a mortar and pestle. It was such a small amount to pulverize, it took longer to make the paste in a small food processor, with several stops to stir, than it would have by hand. Still, it made a flavorful sauce for this fresh, spring-like dish.

Scallops with Blood Orange and Campari Granita

I love it when I have an opportunity to plan a dinner party. Choosing each course and beverages, deciding on a dessert, and figuring out how much can be prepared in advance is a fun challenge. Last week, friends who now live in Dublin were in Austin for a visit, and we were excited to invite them for dinner one evening. When your dinner guests happen to do a lot of traveling and happen to know food, it makes menu planning a little more stressful, but I knew we’d have a fun time regardless of the meal. Since I’ve been so interested in The New Spanish Table lately, I chose several things from that book for our menu. First was a sangria made with tempranillo, brandy, and my favorite liqueur Paula’s Texas Orange. Along with tapas of olives, nuts, and Spanish cheeses, I wanted to serve something a little different which was an idea that actually came from the dessert chapter in the book. There is a suggestion to use a blood orange and campari granita with shrimp or scallops, and I was intrigued. There’s a small amount of sugar in the granita, but the blood orange juice and campari made it more tart and fruity than sweet. The idea of a frozen, brightly colored topping on a scallop was something I had to try.

Making the granita was straightforward. I juiced some blood oranges after zesting one of them. The juice and zest were added to one quarter cup of sugar in a saucepan, and the mixture was warmed until the sugar dissolved. It was left to reduce for a few minutes, and then allowed to cool. Once cool, about one-third cup of campari was added. Freezing a granita is easiest in a wide, shallow pie dish. The juice mixture was poured into the dish and placed in the freezer for about an hour before being stirred and scraped. Then, every 30 minutes for the next couple of hours it was scraped and flaked. It takes a little longer to freeze a mixture with alcohol in it, but soon enough it became grainy and icy as it should. Then, I seared large sea scallops and allowed them to cool to room temperature so that the granita topping wouldn’t melt instantly. I topped each scallop with a little scoop of granita and some chopped cilantro.

The bitterness of blood orange and campari balanced the sweetness well and mingled nicely with the mild flavor of scallops. Next time, I might sear the scallops earlier and even chill them a bit before topping them with granita since it did melt more quickly than I would have liked. The bright orange color of the frozen granules was as pretty as can be, and it was a fun play on sweet and savory expectations. There was more to come after the tapas, and I’ll show the rest of the meal in upcoming posts.

Scallops with Chestnut Sauce and Crispy Sage

This may look like a scallop dish, but it’s all about the bacon. Did I just say that? Yes, I know, I don’t eat red meat, and I use turkey bacon. Good, natural, nitrite-free turkey bacon can be found, and that’s what I use. Although, I’m hoping to get my hands on some local duck bacon one of these days, but I digress. What I wanted to explain was that the flavors in this dish were very subtle and lovely, and the smokiness from bacon was essential to the chestnut sauce. The recipe clearly states that one thick slice of bacon should be used, and my turkey bacon, natural or not, wasn’t sliced very thickly. So, I should have used two slices, but I couldn’t have known that before finishing the sauce. Regardless of fussy details like that, it was a delicious sauce for scallops with fried sage leaves. This was in the November issue of Food and Wine and was created by Rajat Parr. As I read the issue over Thanksgiving weekend, I decided then and there that this would be our Christmas Eve meal.

To begin the sauce, the bacon of your choice is to be cooked in butter. Not a bad start for building flavor. After the bacon has cooked, a chopped leek was added. Next, cognac was to be added and flamed, but since I really didn’t want to burn the house down on Christmas Eve, I opted to just let the cognac simmer without flames. Last, chicken stock and vacuum-packed chestnuts were added, and the sauce was brought to a boil. It simmered for three minutes before being transferred to a blender to be pureed. The puree was poured back into a saucepan and was kept warm on the stove while the sage leaves were fried and the scallops were seared.

The primary ingredients here, scallops and chestnuts, are both very mild. Scallops have a slight sweetness, and chestnuts are almost earthy, but the bacon smoke and sage were there to tie it all together and punch it up a bit. The sauce was velvety and thick without being too rich. I knew as I tasted it I should have used a little more bacon, and how often does that thought ever occur to me, but it was still a great match for simply seared scallops.

Coquilles St. Jacques a la Provencale

My copies of Mastering the Art of French Cooking, Vol. One and Vol II have been sitting on the shelf, waiting patiently for years for me to cook from them. I’ve referred to The French Laundry Cookbook as kitchen scripture belonging on a pedestal, but I think I had mentally placed Mastering the Art on an even higher perch. A month or so ago, I read My Life in France which tells the story of the making of Vol I. The hard work and dedication involved in creating that book, not to mention the patience with getting it published, was staggering. This book contains the first published recipes for hollandaise, mayonnaise, and beurre blanc. No one had written them down for the home cook before. Reading about Julia’s life was just a treat, and after finishing that book I had to finally crack open Mastering the Art. You may have heard about a little movie that’s coming soon to every theater near you, Julie and Julia. With news of that popping up everywhere, and with Bastille Day this week, I was inspired to prepare some French cuisine. I chose a couple recipes that seemed pretty straightforward for my first time with this book, and scallops gratineed with wine, garlic, and herbs was one of them.

Now that I’ve actually cooked from this book, I realize how well-written the recipes are. I appreciated how the ingredients are grouped for each step of the preparation. Rather than looking back to the top of the page for the quantity of an ingredient, it’s right there next to the instruction for using it. I should point out that although I have the utmost respect for the book, I of course made a change to the dish. The scallops were supposed to have been cut into one-quarter inch thick slices. I couldn’t do it. I love a nice, tall, plump scallop like nothing else, and I left them full-sized. Other than that, I followed the instructions nearly exactly and resisted the urge to garnish with some parsley or something at the end. I cooked minced onion in butter and added shallot and garlic and then set it aside. I seared the (whole, unsliced) scallops but removed them from the pan to prevent over-cooking. They were to have remained in the pan while the sauce was prepared. I made the sauce with white wine, half of a bay leaf, and some thyme and added the reserved, cooked onion mixture. I returned the scallops to the pan, topped them with grated Swiss (Gruyere) cheese and pieces of butter, and gratineed them under the broiler.

To sum up the flavors, there was butter, onion, shallot, garlic, butter, scallops, wine, herbs, butter, and a little cheese. Delicious. It was somewhat rich, but I kept the portions small and served a simple salad on the side. The sauce was nicely put together, and the intention of pre-cooking the onion mixture was, I believe, to prevent the scallops from cooking too long in the sauce. I have a thing about scallops and wanted to completely avoid an over-cooked situation; hence, I didn’t cook them in the sauce and waited to put them back in the pan before broiling. The cheese and butter topping was extravagant both in taste and calorie-count, but I’m so glad to have followed the instructions for that. This dish was just a pleasure to experience. I think that Julia Child might have known a thing or two about cooking, and I’ll be learning more from her and both volumes of the book.

Tamari Shrimp and Scallops

I returned to Michel Nischan’s book, Taste Pure and Simple, for a light and delicious shellfish meal. This time, I didn’t have to beg any favors to procure all the ingredients. In fact, there are only five ingredients in the recipe if you exclude the garnish. It is a very straightforward dish in which the flavors of the shrimp and scallops are simply accented by tamari and black pepper.

The presentation is as important here as the ingredients. A sea scallop was to be snuggled into the curve of each shrimp and secured with a pick. I bought U16 gulf shrimp, but the gigantic sea scallops available that day would never have fit in them. I used bay scallops instead, and they fit nicely. Once assembled, I placed them back in the refrigerator while the sauce was prepared. Rather than using tamari sauce straight from the bottle, it was reduced in a double-boiler for about 40 minutes. It was to reduce by half and thicken. During this time, a thin crust or slight film formed on top of the sauce. Nischan explains that this is a salt crust and should be left behind when the reduced sauce is poured from the bowl. He suggests that removing this crust reduces the saltiness of the tamari, but I found it didn’t change the flavor much.

The prepared shrimp and scallops were seasoned only with black pepper and then brushed with the reduced tamari sauce. They were quickly seared on each side in a skillet heated with a small bit of canola oil. To serve, some of the sauce was spooned onto each plate, and the shellfish was placed on top. This couldn’t have been simpler. In the book, it’s suggested as a first course, but I served it as a main course with stir fried vegetables on the side. The vegetables found their way into the meandering sauce on the plate, and all the flavors of the meal worked together very well. Each piece is very pretty with the shrimp curling around the scallop, and they would also make nice hors d’oeuvres for a party.

Seared Scallops with Corn Cream and Macque Choux

Last Thursday evening, we attended Crescent City Cooking with a Focus on Seafood at Central Market cooking school. The class was taught by Susan Spicer who is Chef of Bayonna and Herbsaint in New Orleans. Her self-described style of French-inspired, eclectic cooking was demonstrated in four courses. Spinach salad with pan-sauteed Gulf oysters, a soup and sandwich course of shrimp and tomato bisque with a seared tuna muffaletta, a duo of fish course of cornmeal crusted catfish over a red bean puree and a pecan crusted red snapper with a citrus butter sauce, and last, mint julep ice cream. I left the class very happy and inspired. Bean puree as a sauce for fish! Keep the shrimp flavor subtle in bisque and add just a hint of anise from Herbsaint or Pernod! Cook over lower heat when using a nut crust on fish fillets so it doesn’t burn!

Armed with a signed copy of Crescent City Cooking: Unforgettable Recipes from Susan Spicer's New Orleans and the desire to keep eating food like what we sampled in the class, I set out to create one of her dishes at home over the weekend. That dish was Seared Scallops with Corn Cream and Macque Choux. Spicer explains that macque choux is a Cajun version of Yankee succotash made with corn kernels, diced tomatoes, and green onion.

Now, Kurt likes to point out that, due to my Illinois upbringing, I’m a sucker for fresh corn. He’s from Illinois too, but I really love fresh corn (and popcorn and cornmeal and polenta and grits). I can tell good fresh corn from so-so fresh corn and several levels of ok-ness in the middle. Small-kerneled, crunchy white corn can be the very best there is, but big, juicy yellow kernels are undeniably addictive. But, even if you only moderately like corn, like normal people, you will really like this dish. It was in the category of I can’t believe I made this it’s so good.

Corn freshly cut from the cob is briefly cooked in butter and a small amount of water. Then, it’s pureed in a blender and should be poured through a sieve into simmering cream. I didn’t sieve it because I wanted all the corn goodness I could get. The texture was still very smooth and silky despite having skipped the sieving. The corn cream is pooled on a plate, the macque choux is piled in the center, the scallops are nestled about the center pile, and pan drippings from the searing are dribbled about the composition. It was unbelievable how simple this preparation was in relation to its deliciousness. 1:5,000. I think this new book and I are going to be spending a lot of time together in the kitchen.