Or “Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more.” As the poet said. And as I spoke it out over the playing fields of England’s King College School when I was 15.
It was parent’s day and I had to perform. Now it is time again. This time many decades later, and a Stars revisited dinner again at San Francisco’s great Foreign Cinema restaurant.
Here is a photo of the last time I was there to cook ten years ago. What has changed was foremost in my mind while thinking of the menu for this next revival. Had the ingredients stayed the same, become less interesting, were chanterelles and porcini now available by the bushel full? As beautiful as the ones at Mexico City’s markets?
The first similar event, ten years ago, had a menu, as reported in Eater San Francisco, of old-school classics like steak tartare, caviar and blini, oysters, tea-smoked duck breast, and vintage Champagne.
On the first event, the plane had left Merida (Yucatan) at 8:30 so I was at the neighborhood Santiago market by 6 that morning to buy enough bananas and watermelon to keep the huge and macho iguana in the garden happy while I was away. What he wouldn’t finish, the Kau or Grackle birds would, probably joined by wild and screeching green parrots from the mamay tree just outside the open-air dining porch. As for the three juvenile sopilotes or vultures who have taken to drinking out of the swimming pool, they would not, but just stand by hoping the iguana would die.
Before leaving the market I had grabbed a couple of morcilla (blood sausage) tacos and a pint of freshly-squeezed orange juice, but my mind was on the croque-monsieur (and a glass of rather fabulous La Doucette Sancerre at Le Grand Comptoir at the confluences of the ‘C’ gates at Houston International airport. Or it used to be, and used to be the only time I looked forward to an airport unless it is the Cathay Pacific lounges in Hong Kong. It was a ritual whenever I was in transit through Houston. My fried ham and cheese sandwich whose secret is the very tasty smoked ham, real Gruyere and, the butter in which the rustic white bread is fried, some white sauce, and lashings of mayonnaise on the inside of the bread just to keep everything juicy enough to need three napkins. I admit to a certain obsession with this heavenly sandwich and, as a way to make an airport livable, it has no peers. Though the Harrod’s smoked salmon and caviar bar at Heathrow would be a contender. If the staff were not so unfriendly as well as inept.
Now the tickets are booked, but the menu is still in the works. Foreign Cinema is very big on oysters, and so am I, so have come up with Myagis from California’s Marin County with a spoonful of Stars’ oyster tartar on each. And some “Fat Bastards” served with a cucumber and mescal shooter. For an amuse-bouche it was suggested that we serve a fabulous borscht or beet soup of some kind.
But how much historical Russian decadence in California, if any, is acceptable now?
Back during our attacks on the Middle East, and when the French said ‘no’ to the USA, and we said ‘NO’ to fries. Will there now be food sanctions against Russian dishes? If we cannot have Russian borscht and all its variations, there are always Ukrainian soups (which I prefer anyway). And for the first time ever, eating soup would be patriotic.
Now we are back to two wars, what are we allowed to eat? What because of its origin is as forbidden as foie gras?
It’s just dinner so we can put politics aside and so prevent indigestion and warfare at the table. And I am not giving up on those fabulous soups that came out of the Tsarist empire. But which ones to consider?
First a regular Borscht.
Then there is Rassolnik. Made from pickled cucumbers, pearl barley, and pork or beef kidneys. Not so sure of the kidneys, whatever one’s politics.
Solyanka Soup has old Russia’s favorite things like beef, mushrooms, pickled cucumbers, potatoes, cabbage, smetana, and dill.
And Shchi, another cabbage soup but this time the cabbage is sauerkraut. Those base on sorrel, spinach, nettle, and similar plants are called green shchi. With or without kvass, a low-alcohol beer-like drink made of fermented leftover stale rye bread, and definitely also Ukrainian so this could go to the top of the list.
Klotski is chicken and dumpling soup, but we hope that if anyone has a cold, they away and eat this at home.
Okroshka is a very refreshing creamy summer soup, a base of kvass and sour cream and summer vegetables like cucumbers, radishes, and spring onions. I like it with the addition of boiled potatoes and HB eggs. But this dinner is in November, so it come off the list.
Ditto with my other favorite summer soup, Botvinya, favorite because it is made with fish, and I douse it heavily with cooked crayfish, and use the shells to flavor and color the broth. With fresh herbs and beet leaves.
Serve the fish in one bowl, the broth in another, and chunks of ice in another.
On further thought, now there is a second war, let’s play it politically safe so and go with:
TWICE RISEN CHEESE SOUFFLÉ
The great thing s about these soufflés is that they can be made hours in advance, even the day before, and then they rise again when covered with whipping cream and grated gruyére and baked for 7 minutes! The unmolded baked soufflés can be refrigerated overnight. Bring to room temperature before proceeding
We are serving this soufflé with sautéed chanterelles and a hazelnut-fig aillade. Basically, a flavored aioli.
Use the four-ounce aluminum ramekins.
Serves 4
Ingredients
¼ cup (60g) butter
½ cup (60g) plain flour
1 ½ cups (350ml) milk, heated
½ cup (50g) grated gruyére
½ cup (50 g) grated Parmigiano
4 eggs, separated, plus 1 extra egg yolk
Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
Second rising
1 cup (200ml) whipping cream
4 tbs grated gruyére
Preheat the oven to 350°. Butter and flour ramekins, tapping out any excess flour. Melt the butter over moderate heat. Whisk in
the flour until smooth. Gradually whisk in the milk and half of the heavy cream until smooth. Bring to a boil, whisking, then reduce the heat to low and simmer, whisking, for 5 minutes. Remove from the heat and let cool to room temperature, stirring occasionally.
Beat the egg yolks into the white sauce. Stir in the Parmesan and 1/3 of the Gruyère.
Season with salt and white pepper.
Beat the egg whites with a pinch of salt until almost firm. Using a large rubber spatula, fold one-third of the beaten whites into the cheese sauce, then fold in the remaining egg whites just until blended. Gently spoon the soufflé mixture into the prepared ramekins, filling them three-fourths full.
Set the ramekins on a rimmed baking sheet. Run your thumb around the rim of each ramekin to clean the inside.
Bake the soufflés for 25 minutes, or until risen and golden but not quite set in the center. Let cool.
Raise the oven temperature to 400°.
Pour 2 tablespoons of the remaining heavy cream over each soufflé and sprinkle them with the remaining Gruyère.
Bake the soufflés for 7 to 10 minutes, or until puffed and golden brown. If baking the soufflés on a platter, use a flat
spatula to transfer them with their cream to plates, then serve with the chosen garnish.
You can are one of the few writers on this Substack who make me want to read one more paragraph. Leave a little room for dessert!
I so enjoyed reading this. Smart, quirky, funny, and global with a hint a decadence from a time when we weren't so worried about indulgence. And I'm going to make the souffle.