Author: lhadmin

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On Board the QM2

QM2 is shorthand for the Cunard liner Queen Mary,  Second Iteration,  i.e. a remake of the original HMS Queen Mary now resting comfortably in mothballs, disguised as a hotel,  in Long Beach California.  Being relatively new to big time cruising I never fail to be impressed by the enormity of the tasks associated with moving an object the size of the Empire State Building around the ocean,  not to mention the scope of effort required to feed 2500 of your closest friends three times a day.

QM-2This most recent cruise took us around the Caribbean to ports that I had not previously visited – St. Thomas,  St. Lucia,  Grenada and a few others.  It was an 11-day extravaganza with four of the 11 nights requiring me to squeeze into a tux that I bought when I was 20 pounds lighter.  What prompts me to write about it however is not the locations we visited,  all of which resemble one another and do not require a re-visit any time soon,  but the outstanding performance by the catering and restaurant staff who managed to turn out culinary masterpieces at every meal.

The caveat is that these comments apply to the principal and very elegant main dining room on board,  not the cafeteria or any of the other premium priced dining venues.  The cafeteria attempts to recreate four different styles of cuisine at four different stations and is definitely still a work in progress.  We learned early on to skip it except for coffee and afternoon snacks.  The main Britannia Dining Room is the place to be and I could have set up a cot inside and spent the whole trip in it.

Now I know people will accuse me of being  judgmental when I say this,  but the only deficiency on the part of the kitchen became evident whenever it offered up dishes that purported to embrace an Italian character.   Throughout the cruise I made a point to select as many of the Italian-inspired items as I could,  so I feel confident in alleging that it is not just a one dish issue but a consistent failure.  And so I stated on the comment card upon disembarking,  which I’m sure has long since tossed overboard.

I should also mention as long as criticisms are in order that one of the upscale premium restaurants on board,  for which a surcharge is required to gain access,  was a huge disappointment.  It was the “Todd English” supposedly overseen and godfathered by the otherwise extremely well-known and well-regarded cooking celebrity of the same name.  My guess is that Todd shows up on board once every 2 or 3 years to check out the menu and the recipes.  Otherwise,  in his absence quality control and execution are just concepts, not a reality.  My travel buddy ordered a chicken dish that was assassinated by the addition of an excessive quantity of Pernod liqueur.  I forgot what I ordered which is a statement all in itself.  No need to visit that establishment again.  Head for the Casino instead.

Having said all that I go on to claim that everything else turned out by the kitchen, I should say the galley  -predominantly French-inspired,  British,  and more or less international selections –  all merited 4 stars in my book,  having no idea what Gordon Ramsey would say about it if he were doing the tasting.  Fortunately at the end of the cruise the wait staff presented me with a collection of all the Britannia Room menus and I now have them preserved in a safe place.

Along the way I attended a cooking demonstration conducted by one of Executive Chef Jean-Marie Zimmermann’s sous chefs,  who turned out a magnificent-looking Beef Wellington ready for the oven in about 50 minutes time.  I have spun out maybe 10 or 12 Wellingtons in my day but never in less than 3 hours,  mainly because it is necessary to trim out the tenderloin before setting up the recipe,  and that takes me forever.  I’m sure the chef did that ahead of time.  Anyway on returning home I set out to execute the QM2 recipe to see whether the taste matches up with the eye-catching item created by the chef before an audience of about 200 people.  The notable feature incorporated by the QM2 chef was the placement of a thin crepe on the puff pastry before wrapping the meat so that the juices would not turn the puff pastry into a soggy mess. I have since learned that this is a common technique.

Warning:  to replicate the QM2 production you will need one of those lattice cutters that are used to create a lattice effect on pie crusts and other pastries.  I have one.  You can skip it if you want but the visual effect is very impressive if you decide to go to the trouble.

The recipe  –  which is actually quite standard when all is said and done – works just fine,  so here it is:

The QM2 Wellington

For 4-6 persons (are you ready for this?):

  • 1 three pound whole tenderloin strip trimmed and tied with kitchen twine to keep its shape
  • 2 tbsp. butter
  • 1 shallot finely chopped
  • 4 oz. mushrooms finely chopped (pretty much any kind will do.  I use dried porcini reconstituted but make sure to remove all the sand.  Repeated dousing in hot water and draining will do the trick.  Otherwise use cremini from the store and save a ton of effort)
  • 1 four oz. can liver pate’ (this is not part of the QM2 recipe but I highly recommend including it)
  • 3 tbsp. chopped fresh flat leaf parsley
  • 1 package frozen puff pastry thawed (despite the claims this product is not all that user-friendly!)
  • 1 large egg beaten for glaze
  • 2 tbsp. flour or more as needed
  • 2 tbsp. olive oil
  • 2 cups chicken or beef stock
  • 1/2 cup red wine
  • 3 tbsp. Dijon mustard
  • 1 thin crepe or large flour tortilla (I understand the reason for it but am not totally convinced of the necessity)
  • salt & pepper to taste

Preheat oven to 400 degrees.  Sprinkle salt and freshly ground black pepper all over the tenderloin.  Heat olive oil in a large-diameter oven-safe saute’ pan and sear the tenderloin until well browned on all sides,  about 10 minutes.  Transfer to the oven and roast for about 25 minutes or until meat thermometer registers 140 degrees (medium rare).

Heat butter in saute’ pan and cook shallots and mushrooms until completely softened.  Add parsley,  salt and pepper, and blend in the liver pate’.  Set aside.  This is the mushroom “duxelle.”  Remove tenderloin from oven when done and allow to cool.   Save the juices.  Remove the string.  Then spread the Dijon mustard all around.  Set aside.  Meanwhile roll out 2 sheets of  the puff pastry on a floured board.  This is the hard part so pour a glass of Dolcetto d’Alba for fortification.  It’s for you,  not the Wellington.  Better to roll out too much puff pastry than too little but the sheets should be no less than half the thickness as the original package size.   You need about an 18 x24 inch square for wrapping depending on the size of the tenderloin.  You can piece together strips of the dough to get to the right size but that’s a tough assignment.   One sheet, the 18 x20,  is for wrapping the tenderloin and the other is for the lattice decoration.

Place the crepe or tortilla on top of the 18×20 pastry dough.  Spread the mushroom/pate’ mix all around.  Lay the cooked tenderloin on top,  dress it with more duxelle then wrap it with the dough starting with the left and right sides,  bring them up and over then bringing the long edges up and over.  Press the seams firmly then roll the tenderloin over so that the seams are on the bottom.   I know this is not for the faint-hearted but press on!  Brush the wrapping with egg wash.

For the lattice decoration run a lattice cutter over the second sheet.  Place the sheet over the wrapped tenderloin and tuck the sides and ends in snugly.  Trim off any excess.  Brush all over with more egg wash.  Using two big spatulas carefully transfer the tenderloin onto a sheet pan,  not a high-sided roasting pan.  The idea is to facilitate removal to the final presentation platter without damage.  Cook in the oven at 400 degrees for about 20-25 minutes or until pastry crust turned golden brown.  You’re done.  You made it to the finish line!

For a sauce heat up the reserved meat juices, stir in 2 tbsp. flour add the stock,  wine (if there’s any Dolcetto left use it) and reduce until slightly thickened.  I add a tablespoon of chopped fresh rosemary.

For serving place the tenderloin onto a flat serving platter and cut portions with a serrated knife slowly and carefully to avoid disturbing the pastry crust.

Note: In case you’re wondering what has to happen before you have a whole tenderloin ready for setting up as a Wellington,  take a look.  The first thing to notice is that the meat you took home from the store is shaped like a giant tadpole and needs a lot of work:

Not an easy project.  On the left is the undressed tenderloin.  If you don’t ask the butcher to trim it up you have to do it yourself.  On the top right is a trimmed tenderloin with the “Chateaubriand” head trimmed away,  fat and all sorts of silver skin removed.  Notice I use a fish fillet knife to do all the surgery.  Then,  at the lower right,  the final prepped item is tied and ready for browning and roasting.  Definitely not a candidate for Thirty-Minute Meals.  But if you get it right the effect on your dinner guests will be incalculable!

Here is the final outcome:

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J.O. Strigle vs. Gustav Brunn

As a master of trivia you probably already know that Messrs. Strigle and Brunn are the originators of Old Bay Seasoning and J.O. brand spice mix respectively.  Both Baltimore-based,  they are the two most widely used crab and seafood seasonings here at the home of the Maryland Blue Crab.  Statistics will show that Gus and his heirs long since won the contest for No. 1 choice among the millions of crab lovers in the area and beyond.  But J.O. is not to be trifled with.  In my opinion and despite my irrelevant New England seafood expertise J.O. makes the better blend.  For starters one teaspoon of Old Bay contains twice the salt as the same amount of J.O.  When you’re dumping the stuff all over a bushel of steamed crabs taking on board half the salt as the competition would please your cardiologist no end.

Regardless,  Old Bay has become the seafood equivalent of Heinz Ketchup.  It is sprinkled over just about anything that lives in the oceans,  rivers or streams (and even a few things that don’t,  like fried chicken,  potato chips and popcorn).  Both brands contain 12 or more spice ingredients so compounding your own mix out of individual spices is not worth the time.  I tried it (since I’m retired and have all the time in the world) and was able to duplicate the Old Bay pretty closely.   You’ll find that among the 12 components only 3 or 4 lend the characteristic flavor to the product.  They are paprika,  celery salt, cayenne pepper and mustard powder.  Everything else is a nuance which disappears as soon as you light into the crabs and cold beer.

A bit of background for just a second.  About half of the blue crab harvest in the U.S. takes place in the Chesapeake Bay region.  Production is down by about 50% from the all time high of 80 million or so pounds per year way back in time.  Notably,  throughout the history of the commercial harvest one single town of maybe 3000 souls has laid claim to the title “Crab Capital of the World.”  It is Crisfield Maryland,  a pleasant little town located about 30 miles south of Salisbury Maryland – known in its own right as “Chicken Capital of the World.”  Crisfield’s version of the Eiffel Tower is a huge water tank suspended about 120 feet above ground level with a giant blue crab stenciled on the side.  The crab,  however,  is painted red.  Go figure.

A detour to Crisfield (you can only get there by detour) is worth the effort for there you will find a most impressive and thoughfully laid out museum that chronicles the rise and fall of the blue crab and oyster industry in the area.  Just be sure your GPS is working properly so you don’t miss the turnoff and wind up in Norfolk Virginia.

All this is more than just of passing interest to me because recently I became involved in one of the main tourist attractions Crisfield produces every year.  It is the Hard Crab Derby where people hungry for nail-biting suspense can watch a collection of champion crabs race down the marina dock to jump back into the water.  First crab in the water gets to skip the steaming pot.  I say Triple Crown racing can’t hold a candle to this event!  Anyway the whole thing starts off with the coronation of a local beauty queen who is awarded the unfortunate title “Miss Crustacean”  –  a label she will have to carry around the rest of her life.  I guess calling her “Miss Crab” would be even worse.

In connection with these festivities the Crisfielders hold a cooking contest wherein the blue crab must be featured in one form or another.  I entered this contest.  Big mistake.  My chosen category was crab soup and my entry was a saffron-flavored concoction accented with basil oil and just a hint of Old Bay (since failure to incorporate this ingredient is a felony offense in Crisfield).  It won third place in a competition category that included only three contestants.  My prize was a pewter coaster emblazoned with the words “National Hard Crab Derby – 3rd Place 2009.”  I’m using it for my wine glass as I write this.

To complete the picture this is a photo of the 2008 Grand Prize Winner,  Adam Doyle Gibson,  age 12 at the time believe it or not,  who turned out a triple whammy crab hors d’oeuvre/appetizer combination that was a true masterpiece.  I now know that my skills in crab cookery are vastly inferior to those of a 12-year-old.

So instead of burdening you with my third place offering I turn your attention to a classic Maryland Crab Cake recipe which appropriately calls for the use of one of the popular crab seasonings,  in this case the inevitable Old Bay.  The recipe is the work of a good friend and genuine Southern Belle from Crisfield who took the time to research all the previous winning recipes in the crab cake category:

The True Ultimate Crab Cake

For 4 persons:

  • 1 lb. lump crab meat from Crisfield  (not available online, you have to make the trip, ok?)
  • 1 large egg beaten
  • 3 tbsp. mayonnaise
  • 1 tsp. yellow mustard (Chef Ludovico would prefer the Dijon,  but never mind)
  • 1 tsp. Tabasco sauce
  • 2 tsp. Worcestershire sauce
  • 1 tbsp. Old Bay seasoning (I would secretly substitute the J.O.)
  • 1 tsp. paprika (paprika is already in the Old Bay but I am keeping my mouth shut)
  • 1 tbsp. finely chopped celerly leaves  (right, but celery salt is another key ingredient in Old Bay)
  • 1 tbsp. finely chopped fresh Italian parsley (yay,  the Italians get a piece of the action!)
  • 2 tbsp. chopped red and yellow pepper softened in the microwave (my contribution to the recipe)
  • 1/2 cup Panko bread crumbs (the Japanese are everywhere)
  • freshly ground black pepper to taste.  (no salt, remember,  the Old Bay is loaded with it)
  • olive oil or butter for saute.

Mix the egg,  mayonnaise,  mustard.  Tabasco, Worcestershire,  Old Bay,  paprika,  celery leaves,  parsley and softened peppers in a bowl.  Add the crab meat and mix by hand gently then add the bread crumbs along with salt & pepper until fully combined.  Refrigerate the mixture for 15-20 minutes.

Heat 3 tbsp. olive oil or butter in skillet.  Shape crab cakes into 4 large or 8 small patties and saute’ over medium heat for 3 minutes per side or until evenly browned.  Keep warm in oven until all patties are done.  Broiling is an option,  3 minutes per side.  Serve with tartar sauce if desired,  but not necessary.  Soft oven or hamburger rolls spread with a little French salad dressing can be used to made a phenomenal crab cake sandwich.

P.S.  The crab on the Crisfield water tank is painted red because it represents the steamed item.  Crabs,  like lobsters  turn red when fully cooked.  Don’t want the Crisfielders to think I don’t know that.

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Scratch Pizza DOC

Nothing beats a perfectly baked pizza made from scratch,  with just the right texture,  taste,  crunch and shape.  After 40+ years of effort I claim that I can produce one or two,  especially if there is a handy wood-burning brick oven within reach like the one in the photo!  It shouldn’t take you that long to duplicate the result even with a conventional oven but it might.  Why?  Because,  dagnabbit,  there are too many variables in the way.

Consequently any source you choose to consult,  and there are thousands,  probably will not work exactly as advertised.  Only the commercial shops and restaurants using precisely measured ingredients and maintaining a constant environment,  rising time,  oven temperature and so on,  can get a consistent result time after time.  After all,  their income and reputation depend on it!  Note I said “consistent” which could mean consistently bad as well as consistently good.

At home the situation is entirely different.  Even if you follow a book or web recipe to the letter you may not get the same result each time because the hidden variables are at work.  Think room temperature,  humidity,  type of flour,  type of yeast,  soft or hard water.  There may be others.

Not to say you can’t ever beat Domino’s because you certainly can  (and it’s not that hard).  Commercial enterprises of that scale and magnitude cannot avoid introducing elements into the process,  preservatives or stabilizers for instance,  that compromise taste and quality.   So you and I can match up one of our lesser creations against Papa John any time  day or night if we plan accordingly.

You want to be a pizzaiolo right?  If so stick around for a moment and read on.  (Pizzaiolo = Italian for pizza chef,  pronounced “pizza-yolo.”).  Herein lies what they don’t tell you in the recipe books.  Settle in,  this is going to take a while.

You start by reaching for the bag of flour in the cabinet.  Wait….  What is it?  All purpose? Bleached?  Unbleached?  Bread Flour?  Durum wheat?  Whole wheat?  Or…or…maybe….you’re one of the few people in the U.S. who has latched onto the mysterious “double zero”  better known in Italy as “doppio zero”  – not to be confused with a variety of Starbucks Coffee.  Well, if you were to take yourself to Naples one fine day you will discover that everybody and their mother-in-law is using the “OO,”  alone or in combination with single “O”,  whether in the restaurants or the family kitchen.

What’s the big deal?  If the trick is to use an extremely finely ground, high protein flour,  as seems to be the case,  then why not settle for a bread flour,  sold in the markets in my area predominately under the King Arther label.  And so we can.  Unless you like spending 3 bucks and up for a two-pound bag of “OO” the bread flour is just as good,  although I doubt the Neapolitan pizzaioli would agree.  Admittedly I do shell out for the “OO” from time to time.

Will all-purpose work?  Yes it will,  but somehow you don’t get the magical combination of tenderness and crunch that typifies most of the pizzas consumed in Italy.  So I sometime compromise by mixing the OO with the O  (better known as all purp0se) as in the recipe below.   Most often, absent the “OO,”  I reach for the King Arthur brand of unbleached bread flour.  But no matter what the flour selection is I do not ever achieve the same result as the chefs in Naples no matter how I vary the process or the flour choices.  However I am getting consistent if nothing else.

Turning to the yeast the choices are active dry,  rapid rise and cake yeast (i.e. the refrigerated cubes).  In Italy the popular choice is brewer’s yeast or lievito di birra.  I’ve never seen anything in the U.S. labeled that way but I suspect it’s somewhat the same as cake yeast.  I avoid rapid-rise.  To me it is nowhere near as effective as the active dry or cake yeast.

The next variable is olive oil and herewith I lay down a challenge.  Does it belong in the recipe at all?  Except as noted below I say no and for support I introduce as Exhibit A the official certified recipe published by the Neapolitan Pizza Bakers Association.  I am dead serious.  There is such a group and they do have a “DOC” recipe,  which appears below.  Nonetheless probably 90 percent of American pizzaioli and a much smaller percent of Italians  seem convinced that some amount of olive oil needs to be added during mixing.  It doesn’t.

So try it both ways.  I’ll bet you find that adding olive oil not only does nothing for final taste or texture,  but renders a springy dough that resists being rolled out flat,  like trying to roll out a partially inflated balloon.  You will see later that I do in fact use a teaspoon or so of olive oil (1) to avoid sticking while storing the dough in a zip lock until ready for use and (2) for drizzling lightly on top of the assembled pizza prior to cooking.  Now if we’re talking about Tuscan focaccia bread that’s another matter.  Olive oil is used in significant quantities,  but more about that some other time.

OK now the water.  You would think there can’t possibly be much variation in that simple ingredient.  Wrong.  Some experts think it matters whether your water supply is loaded with extraneous chemicals such as iron,  fluorine,  calcium etc.  According to Pamela Sheldon Johns,  author of a thoroughly researched and exquisitely illustrated little volume called Pizza Napoletana (Ten Speed Press,  Berkeley CA,  1999),  the pH (acidity) of the Neapolitan water supply is 6.7.  The claim is that such an ever so minute level of acidity has a beneficial effect on the final product.  Wow!

I just stick with the tap water,  which comes from a well on my property.  I have a filtration tank that removes most of the undesirable chemicals.  I never tried bottled spring water so maybe there is an opportunity there.

Then we come to the salt.  Plain table salt would not pass muster in Naples.  The official pizza dough recipe calls for sea salt (which by the way contains any number of extraneous chemical interlopers).   Bottom line here,  while not wishing to impugn the Neapolitan All-Stars I maintain that sodium chloride is all that is necessary.  Proving a difference between a dough made with regular salt and one made with Sel de Mer would require a double-blinded taste test conducted with a panel of sober Neapolitan judges.

Incidentally I read that salt has a tendency to slow down the action of the yeast cells so I have taken on the practice of adding the salt somewhere toward the end of the mixing process and just before the dough is ready to be turned out for kneading.  It’s just a precaution that I follow,  knowing full well that no one else on the planet does the same.

Lastly there is the oven temperature.  The ideal temperature for baking pizza is 650-700 degrees a level that no standard household oven can achieve.  The wood burning stove does get up that far which is why pizzas made that way are so great.  Whatever you do get the oven up as high as you can and toss out those recipes that say it’s ok to bake at 400 degrees.  It’s not.

So the authentic, certified,  gold-plated dough recipe if you believe the Neapolitans,  is this:

Home-made Pizza Dough

  • 1/2 cake fresh yeast or 1 envelope active dry
  • 2 cups or so lukewarm water
  • 1 cup bread or pastry flour, or the OO if it’s around
  • 6 cups more or less unbleached all purpose flour
  • 1 1/2 tablespoons sea salt (you already have my opinion on the sea salt)

Drag out your trusty Kitchen-Aid mixer,  add the lukewarm water to the bowl and stir in the yeast until dissolved.  Wait until it forms a nice beer-like head then add the 1 cup bread flour and mix well.  As indicated my variation is to hold off on the salt until all other ingredients are mixed and then add it at the end of the mixing cycle.  Add the all purpose flour 1 cup at a time and let the dough hook do the work for about 20 minutes or longer.  Gather the dough into a ball and place in a bowl lightly coated with olive oil.  Cover with a kitchen towel and let rise for 4 hours.  Remove dough,  punch it down,  knead it by hand for a few minutes and divide it into 5 or 6 pieces shaped into a snowball.  I use a kitchen scale to achieve equal size doughs of about 10 ounces each, which is sufficient for a 14-inch diameter thin crust.  Cover and allow to rise for another 2 hours.

Bringing the dough to the right consistency is the hardest part (next to rolling it out into a perfect circle).  You may need more or less flour depending on the variables in temperature and humidity.  Generally the dough should be stiff enough to hold its round shape on the board without oozing off in all directions.  A pastry scraper is the ideal tool for moving the dough around and helping out with the kneading process.  At this point the doughs can be set aside in lightly oiled zip locks to be frozen or refrigerated for later use.

When all is ready you next take on the daunting task of creating a perfectly round dough which should look something like these nice round specimens:

For years my doughs would refuse to take the proper shape and instead always came out looking like the state of Michigan.  The secret is to start with a perfectly round-shape snowball,  press it down firmly with finger pressure to form a disk,  then pick it up and rotate it by the edges until it starts to enlarge.  Then I place it back on the board and roll with a marble rolling pin as if I were making a pie crust (a heresy in many circles).  I pick it up again and then grab it by the edge using only knuckles to flip the dough round and round,  hand over hand,  further stretching it out.  It then goes on the pizza peel dusted with corn meal to prevent sticking,  making sure it slides easily before dressing it up with the topping goodies.  All of which leads to:

Classic Pizza Margherita DOC

For 5-6 “personal size” pizzas or four 14-inch pies (my standard size):

  • pizza crusts rolled and stretched to desired size
  • 28 0z. canned San Marzano tomatoes chopped (I use a food mill to remove seeds,  but you don’t have to)
  • buffalo mozzarella (available at Costco, Trader Joe’s and Italian specialty shops)
  • 1/4 cup grated parmesan (I use parmesan and romano mixed together)
  • sea salt to taste (just buy a box of regular salt somewhere near an ocean)
  • fresh basil leaves shredded by hand
  • extra virgin olive oil
  • optional: 1 wood-burning brick oven installed in your kitchen (available from Tuscany for about $10,000 on sale).

Preheat oven to maximum temperature,  at least 500 degrees.  In the absence of the wood burning oven use a pizza stone.  Prepare doughs one at a time.  Place rolled-out dough on a wooden peel dusted with cornmeal.  Spread enough tomato evenly to reach within 1/2 inch of the edge.  Sprinkle with salt and grated cheese to taste.  Add thin mozzarella slices,  staying away from the edge.  Drizzle a thin stream of olive oil over the top again staying away from the edge.   Slide onto pizza stone and bake until edges are golden brown and mozzarella just begins to show some caramelization,  about 6 – 7 minutes.  Remove from oven and add shredded basil to taste.  I actually add the basil before the mozzarella so that it is buried and won’t burn during cooking.  I get more basil flavor that way.

So there you have the grand daddy of all pizzas.  Notice the absence of peperone (the circles on the pizza in the photo are fresh tomato slices.  Also no mushrooms,  olives and all other toppings commonly preferred by U.S. customers.  All of these can be used as desired of course.  I just wanted to illustrate the original as it was made for the first time in the 19th century in honor of Queen Margherita’s royal visit to Naples.

This one was actually made with garden-grown San Marzano tomatoes.  Off the chart!

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Tomato Junction

For a plant that started out in ancient history as a weed amongst the cornfields of South America,  to be rooted out and tossed in the trash by the Inca farmers,  the tomato has come a long way.  Much has been written about the tomato’s transformation from nuisance weed to an ingredient in cooking loaded with versatility.  Once introduced into Europe by the Conquistadores it gradually passed from mere curiosity to household ornament to,  finally,  a distinguished place at the dinner table.  Also probably everyone knows that probably nowhere in the world has the Pomo d’oro – the “golden apple” – achieved such prominence and stature as in Italy,  particularly in the old Kingdom of Two Sicilies – all the territory south of Rome once belonging to the French, Spanish, Normans and a host of random uninvited rulers. Continue reading “Tomato Junction”