<body><script type="text/javascript"> function setAttributeOnload(object, attribute, val) { if(window.addEventListener) { window.addEventListener('load', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }, false); } else { window.attachEvent('onload', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }); } } </script> <div id="navbar-iframe-container"></div> <script type="text/javascript" src="https://apis.google.com/js/platform.js"></script> <script type="text/javascript"> gapi.load("gapi.iframes:gapi.iframes.style.bubble", function() { if (gapi.iframes && gapi.iframes.getContext) { gapi.iframes.getContext().openChild({ url: 'https://www.blogger.com/navbar.g?targetBlogID\x3d12988030\x26blogName\x3dDon\x27t+Trust+Snakes\x26publishMode\x3dPUBLISH_MODE_BLOGSPOT\x26navbarType\x3dBLUE\x26layoutType\x3dCLASSIC\x26searchRoot\x3dhttps://donttrustsnakes.blogspot.com/search\x26blogLocale\x3den_US\x26v\x3d2\x26homepageUrl\x3dhttp://donttrustsnakes.blogspot.com/\x26vt\x3d-4673447362931781663', where: document.getElementById("navbar-iframe-container"), id: "navbar-iframe", messageHandlersFilter: gapi.iframes.CROSS_ORIGIN_IFRAMES_FILTER, messageHandlers: { 'blogger-ping': function() {} } }); } }); </script>


DON’T

TRUST

SNAKES


“I know where I'm headed.”
ROGER THORNHILL



Sunday, April 15, 2007

MWR entertains

I hosted a brunch this morning for a dear friend who was in town from NYC for her first brief return visit in several years. (Translation: Don't you be asking for your own brunch.) It was all a great success. Because Don't Trust Snakes Is Not A Food BlogTM, and because I'm weary, I'm not going to include recipes here, but just the menu and a few illustrations. With the dishes not yet all done, the thought of giving recipes and directions daunts me greatly, and renews my respect for my friend(s) who can produce a fabulous meal and then turn right around and craft a blog entry about it worthy of The Way to Cook by Julia Child or that early Jacques Pepin book. If you would like a recipe or more information, please leave me a comment and I will provide something in the fullness of time.


Menu
  • Pastrami-cured gravlax with assorted bagels and scallion cream cheese

  • Frittata with lemony roasted cauliflower, zahtar and sage

  • Salad of shredded raw parsnips, chopped dates, yogurt and mint

  • Cardamom-and-honey-scented red-grape clafoutis

  • Fresh fruit

  • Orange juice

  • Coffee

Everything was delicious, and one guest pronounced me "ready for marriage." (Moreover, it was a great opportunity to use those Twin Peaks / Double-R Diner mugs so laboriously assembled some fifteen years ago.) Surprisingly, most of the guests had gorged on parsnip/date/yogurt/mint salad at dinner the night before, but everyone was good sport. I had made the gravlax as part of a Thanksgiving spread in the mid 90s, and this time had the wisdom to take David Burke's recipe with a grain of salt, so to speak. Let's just say that last time it was way too hot and spicy and this time I have a jelly jar of unused rub left even after leaving out two of the specified four tablespoons of cracked peppercorns.

Damn fine clafoutis and coffee mugs

I was especially happy with the clafoutis, a last-minute addition that I improvised after spotting some nice-looking grapes. Take your favorite clafoutis recipe (what, you don't have one?—and you call yourself a metrosexual!) and replace half the sugar with honey, add maybe a bit more honey (these grapes were fairly tart) and instead of any vanilla add a tablespoon or more of fresh-ground cardamom. Be sure to grind the cardamom fresh . . . otherwise, the recipe won't turn out, and your family will hate you. (Free DTS t-shirt for the first person to correctly source the bit after the ellipsis.)

Here are some gravlax-assembly shots. Allow five days if using fresh salmon, including 24 hours in the freezer to kill any parasites and nearly that long for a gradual thaw in the fridge.

What is it, and how can it be cured?

Cilantro, parsley, shallots . . . and the extra ingredient, love

"You stupid f***! Look at you now!"

Don't throw out that leftover Who Hash!

Gone but not forgotten

A Le Creuset saucepan frolics in its new home.

A year's wages in ancient Rome

Coming soon to eBay, my extra spice rub

The painterly grace of MWR

And then these people showed up and
ATE IT ALL.

Labels: , , ,

1 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

Now all you need is a husband to clean up after you (the true secret to food-blog-ability).

April 16, 2007 10:02 AM  

Post a Comment

<< Home