Category: Main Dishes

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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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Dinner at the Red Shrimp

Recently I was on travel for the umpteenth time in Rome. On this particular occasion I decided to check out a culinary institution with the most improbable name of Gambero Rosso (Italian for Red Shrimp). This place is a mélange of activity that includes a  cooking school, a rooftop restaurant and venue for all sorts of wine festivals, cultural and political events. It is somewhat surprising since the place is located in the most inaccessible part of town one can imagine.  The place must have been designed by Franz Kafka in a drunken stupor. Somehow the architect succeeded in taking the concept of external fire escapes to a whole new level!

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Cacio e Pepe SPQR

I have an attraction for recipes that, when executed correctly, are basically foolproof.  In that context I call attention to a variation of a widely consumed Roman pasta dish called “Cacio e Pepe,” a name that refers to the cheese used to flavor the noodles (cacio) and the coarsely ground black pepper that really defines the dish (pepe). I discovered that the word ‘cacio’ (pronounced kah-cho) in Italian is more or less synonymous with “formaggio” or “cheese” but seems to be used mainly to describe sheep’s milk products generically. Continue reading “Cacio e Pepe SPQR”