Lately, some love/hate has developed with Thomas Keller. To be clear, Keller is my hero. I want to go there. Keller has some of the top-rated restaurants in the country. Dude was on Top Chef, but not until last season, which makes him awesome for holding out.
I lusted after his Bouchon cookbook. And one day, a few years ago, I ran a training session on internal branding (don't ask) at the private dining room at Bouchon in Las Vegas. I was more excited about the food than the work. For breakfast, there were these amazing oatmeal yougurt things in jelly jars with the hinged tops. I ate three. And then, at the end of the day, we took the class to into the dining room where I ordered almost $75 worth of French fries because they are perfect. I shared the fries, not terribly willingly.
In the last week, we got two of his cookbooks - Bouchon and Ad Hoc at Home. They are perfect. Gorgeous photography. Such thought and care. Craft. And utterly impossible, given the week we've had.
We really try to make time for food. For slow food and for sinking into our food as we make it. There's a lot of hope in our food. Most days. But it's been a week that's challenged all of that. Karen's LASIK, my work. Oh, and three kids. And then to look at Keller's books and realize we can't get there, we're not living in Keller's world even when he explicitly dumbs it down to make it accessible for the home cook. Food was discouraging this week, a reminder that there was no extra energy to give, and we'd fallen way short of what we wanted to do every night for ourselves.
But then there is soup. And salad vinaigrette. And there is inspiration.
Flipping through the two books, Karen was drawn to the French onion soup and his vinaigrette recipes: one inspired, one was easy perfection.
The Soup
I make a good French onion soup. It's not fancy, and it keeps close to very basic ingredients. When I looked at the Bouchon recipe, Keller talks about the importance of cooking the onions low and slow, letting them melt into themselves. Four hours. He wants the onions to cook for four hours. I didn't have four hours. Typically I cook them for 30 minutes. As I was ready to admit defeat, I wondered what would happen if I pushed the cooking time. Just keep cooking until I want to stop. The point was to push myself, my food, and see what happens. Depth of flavor comes from time, so let's see how deep we can get.
I made it for two and a half hours. It wasn't the Keller four. But it was two hours longer than normal. And, of course, Thomas Keller was right.
So, here's my recipe for French Onion Soup, inspired by Thomas Keller:
- 3 lbs yellow onions sliced 1/4 inch thin.
- Medium low heat, a heavy pot, 1 tablespon of canola, 3 tablespoons of butter.
- Place onions in once the butter has melted. Stir a bit. Put the lid on and cook for 30 min to 4 hours (as long as you can without going insane). Stir every 15-20 minutes and check to see how things are going.
- Stir in a pinch of sugar, some kosher salt, some pepper somewhere around the 15 minute mark or whenever you feel like it. I won't judge you.
- Onions will become a ridiculous golden amber color. Remember, you're going low and slow here like good barbecue, so don't get afraid to get them darker.
- Add in 2 c. of red wine, boil until reduced by half. Add 8-ish cups of beef stock, 1 bay leaf uncovered for 45 min - 1 hour.
- I also throw in fresh thyme and/or rosemary along with the bay leaf and stock if I have them because that's how I roll. I should tie them up with kitchen twine before I add them. Emphasis on "should."
- Salt and pepper before serving. Taste it. Don't be afraid of salt (we're talking Kosher salt here. I'm very afraid of table salt).
- Pull out the herbs and bay leaf.
- Turn on your oven to 400 degrees.
- Slice up some good bread (I'd think a loaf of French bread might make sense). Toast/dry it out in an oven on 400 degrees. Rub the cut sides of the toasted bread with a cut garlic clove.
- Ladle soup into individual bowls, top with bread, cover with a slice of Comte and add shredded Emmentaler. Or whatever stinky Swiss-friendly cheese you want. 400 degree oven for 10-15 minutes.
- Take a bite. You're welcome.
I have a personal vendetta against shelf-stable salad dressing. I suppose there's nothing morally wrong with them (debatable), but they're expensive and take up way too much room in our refrigerator. Plus, rarely do they taste as good as the kind you make yourself. Most nights when we have salad, I add in a bowl a favorite vinegar, diced shallot, salt, pepper, and olive oil. I end up with exactly the amount I want with items I already have on hand. Pennies. Frugal and tasty.
And I was wrong. This vinaigrette takes three ingredients, and ends up tasting better than anything I've made. We ended up using about a tablespoon to dress our greens, which meant we had a lot leftover. We happily made room for it in the fridge, where it keeps up to two weeks.
Make this.
Karen was flipping through Bouchon and saw Keller's house vinaigrette. It's stuck in the back of the book, where recipes go when they want to be left alone. So when she said she wanted me to make it, I didn't have high hopes.
Bouchon House Vinaigrette (based upon Thomas Keller's Bouchon recipe)
Zip the mustard and vinegar a bit until mixed. Then, with the food processor running, drizzle in the oil very slowly. A nice steady stream. I know it sounds like a lot of oil (even though it's a standard ratio Keller's using), but you'll barely use any of it in your salad, so relax.
Watch what's happening...the vinaigrette is turning from a liquid to some crazy whipped goodness that sort of undulates and taunts you, knowing you can't restrain yourself from taking just a little taste. Pay attention to that first taste, because that's the moment you'll say goodbye to bottled dressing.
And I was wrong. This vinaigrette takes three ingredients, and ends up tasting better than anything I've made. We ended up using about a tablespoon to dress our greens, which meant we had a lot leftover. We happily made room for it in the fridge, where it keeps up to two weeks.
Make this.
Karen was flipping through Bouchon and saw Keller's house vinaigrette. It's stuck in the back of the book, where recipes go when they want to be left alone. So when she said she wanted me to make it, I didn't have high hopes.
Bouchon House Vinaigrette (based upon Thomas Keller's Bouchon recipe)
- 1/4 c. Dijon mustard
- 1/2 c. red wine vinegar
- 1 1/2 c. canola oil
Zip the mustard and vinegar a bit until mixed. Then, with the food processor running, drizzle in the oil very slowly. A nice steady stream. I know it sounds like a lot of oil (even though it's a standard ratio Keller's using), but you'll barely use any of it in your salad, so relax.
Watch what's happening...the vinaigrette is turning from a liquid to some crazy whipped goodness that sort of undulates and taunts you, knowing you can't restrain yourself from taking just a little taste. Pay attention to that first taste, because that's the moment you'll say goodbye to bottled dressing.