David's Seaweed Sables

'Cocktail cookies' are the new breed of appetizer allegedly making quite a stir in Paris these days.  I say 'allegedly' because I have not been there recently to have one myself.  I'm hearing this second hand from Dorie and David but I have no reason to believe they aren't tell me the truth.  Besides, Paris is a magical place where all small affectations, be they culinary in origin or otherwise, are alarmingly chic simply because, well, they come from Paris.   Don't laugh.. I know for a fact this phenomena is true because I have actually been to Paris and I have experienced the ecstasy-like style hallucinations in can provoke.   But the fact remains, many, many things that appear effortlessly chic in while you are in Paris simply do not play as nicely if similarly experienced 'back home'.

See where I'm going with this?

Wine served in old, scratchy and slightly chipped glasses on a rusty metal tray are oh so, so adorable and stylish when experienced at a self-discovered not-so-downscale Paris eatery.   You exclaim, "isn't it so amazing this place uses vintage cutlery and barware? It just works!" Back home the same experience would provoke a vitriolic Yelp review.

I now no longer allow myself to buy clothing when I travel to foreign cities for this very reason.  My closets are filled with things that I just had to have when I saw them overseas.  Back home in my neighborhood they just looked ridiculous.  Nobody in Irvine wears an ascot.

Context can be key.   

Trust me when I say this but I really didn't hate these Seaweed Sable cocktail cookies.  I actually liked them quite a bit.  These sweet and salty bar snacks are intended to go with drinks before the meal and not with dessert afterwards. Dorie Greenspan has been enthusiastically prosthelytizing the virtues of the "cocktail cookie"  in her books, blog posts, magazine articles, and even at her own Cookie Bar enterprise for awhile now.   I wouldn't bet against her.   If she says they are good, they are.  And seaweed?   Please don't look at me for food aversions.  I like everything and when it is packaged with butter, sugar, and salt I like it even more.

Its just couldn't shake the feeling that I would have liked these cookies a lot more had I actually been snacking on them while sipping a smart vermouth cocktail at a Paris cafe instead of with a glass of Wednesday's chardonnay while staring out the window of my suburban condominium.
    
If I had just taken that first bite during a trip to Paris while under its spell I know I would be screaming about seaweed cocktail cookies to anyone who would listen.  I would be spending hours at home in my kitchen reverse engineering the alchemy of base flavor that makes them a unique option for encouraging alcohol  consumption

I wasn't there, however. I was here.

Knowing that these cookies are the love-child of Dorie and her good friend David Lebovitz certainly fed my appreciation of them just that much more. Their imprimatur is the next best thing to being in Paris and experiencing the Paris phenomenon first hand. Eventually however, my own reality was bound to kick in and I realized that not one person around me was going to understand these the way I do.

Maybe its just too early in suburbia for cookies made with seaweed to be fully appreciated? Perhaps in 20 years the seaweed cookies won't feel so out of place where I live. When that happens I'm going to pull out this recipe and make these again while sipping a vermouth cocktail and wearing an ascot.

David's Seaweed Sables
adapted from Dorie Greenspan's "Around My French Table" 
and David Lebovitz.

In a medium sized bowl, cream 6 Tablespoons of room temperature butter with 3 Tablespoons of chopped, toasted nori roll with a rubber spatula/scraper until smooth and creamy. Next, mix in 2 teaspoons flour de del and 1/2 cup plus 1 tablespoons sugar -- followed by 1 egg yolk and 1 1/2 tablespoon olive oil. When all is mixed well then add 1 cup plus 2 tablespoons AP flour and mix with the rubber spatula until just full mixed and all flour is absorbed. Divide the dough in half and roll each half into an 8 inch log. (The log will be about 1" in diameter.) Wrap each log in plastic wrap and chill in the refrigerator at least one hour or overnight.

To cook, preheat oven to 350 and slice each log into thin 3/8 inch slices and put on a cookie sheet lined with parchment.  Bake 12 minutes or until just set but not brown on top.   Cool on a rack.

Lime and Honey Beet SaladFrench Friday Haikus with Dorie

You can stop screaming 

What trauma did beets cause you? 

You carry on so. 

Say? Don't you like beets?

Have you tried them recently?

Um, can I have yours?

Better than the plague

So keep some perspective please

Shush you. Eat your beets.

Beets seem to be a thing that a small minority of folks fear and loathe. Why is that? This sweetest of vegetables shouldn't really be held in the same category as other notable polarizing foods such as sardines or anchovies.But to a small vocal group, they are. Maybe not a vote split down the middle like Republicans vs.Democrats but they are the Libertarians in this debate.

When you find a beet avoider it can be amusing to them react. I once suggested to a co-worker that a simple beet salad might be a nice way to start a meal she was asking advice about.

"Oh, no!  No beets in MY house! Uh-uh, no way"

You'd think I were suggesting she serve plague to her guests.Undoubtedly some childhood trauma set her aversion early on for it to be this immutable as an adult.

"When I was four I was nearly crushed by a railroad car full of beets. Could never look at one square in the eye again. No sirree."

Further complicating things, the same person who screams bloody murder at the thought of eating a beet root will still adore its above-the-ground cousin, chard.Evidently whatever trauma has caused the aversion must have occurred after the beets had had their tops removed.

The lesson here is that I don't really need to understand everyone and everything around me. No judgement here. I'll just have your beets if you aren't going to eat them.

As for this particular recipe, I reduced the amount of honey called for in half. Beets are sweet enough on their own and these certainly didn't need any additional sweetening. This reduction wasn't enough as I still found myself tasting "sweet" and not "beet". If that makes sense. Oh, and I subbed in a small pinch of tarragon as there was no dill or oregano on hand. Tarragon makes every cold salad taste better. Or is that might just me who thinks that?.

In the end I preferred Dorie's Chunky Beet and  Icy Red Onion Salad from last  summer. Both beat the plague.

Lime and Honey Beet Salad

Lyonnaise Garlic and Herb Cheese Spread Late Again with Dorie

Seeing that Boursin Cheese is one of my true guilty pleasures I was looking forward to trying out this Lyonnaise Garlic and Herb Cheese Spread in Dorie Greenspan's book "Around My French Table". I don't really consider Boursin a sophisticated food stuff. Its not really made in France and I find the companies use of the word "artisinal" in its marketing to be a bit annoying. I certainly wouldn't serve it on any fancy cheese plate I would set out a party. I like to appear a bit more 'in the know' when I'm showing off for a party.

But inside I know my own truth.  I would eat it with a spoon right out of the container.

By and large I feel that one has to be a bit careful in deciding whether or not to discover making your own guilty pleasures. Shouldn't there be some sort of natural downward pressures to counteract any  natural inclination to overindulge?  The only thing keeping me from eating a whole box of Goo-Goo Clusters right now is that I would have to get in a plane and fly across the country to get one.  (No, they don't ship in the summer months.  I checked. And if you know a place that does please just keep it to yourself thankyouverymuch.  )

If I were ever to learn how to make Cheetos (quick fried to a crackly crunch) you would soon be seeing me on a reality television having my walls cut away so they could get me out of the kitchen.

I do know that there are recipes for these types of things, Goo Goos included.  I also know that many of them just aren't that difficult.  These are things I know intellectually but knowing about recipes and then actually putting them into practice are two different things when it comes to self delusion and your need for natural downward pressures on your propensity to overindulge.

See what I'm saying here?

So even thought I did have some trepidations about liking this supposed Boursin competitor way more than I should I gave it a go. I did make a commitment to French Friday's with Dorie after all and even though more often than not I can't get my act together to get recipes out on time, I am still going to do them all.

The verdict.  It was ok. Fromage blanc is readily available here but I think I would have liked a more spreadable consistency for this type of thing. As a veggie dip however the fromage blanc was perfect. I adapted a bit so I share the recipe here.  After tasting the original recipe I punched it up with extra chive and a dash of tobasco to get the herbs going. While it was much, much better after being in the refrigerator an extra night, this is to going to threaten Boursin as a guilty pleasure. Still, neither of them will end up on my fancy party cheese tray.

Quelle fromage.

Lyonnaise Garlic and Herb Cheese Spread

 

Olive Oil Ice Cream with Lemon Infused Olive Oil and Fleur de Sel

I hope you will pardon my brevity as I begin posting a few French Friday's with Dorie assignments over the next few days.    I'll start with this week's assignment and go backwards.

I knew the idea of olive oil ice cream would seem a bit odd to the people I would end up sharing it with later.   So of course I made it anyway.   Or perhaps I made it because of this.  I do like pushing the culinary envelope now and then and if this was going to be a stretch at least it had 1/2 cup of sugar and 2 teaspoons of vanilla to help it go down.

I had previously enjoyed olive oil muffins and lemon olive oil cake so I had a pretty good idea that olive oil ice cream would work out just fine.

The recipe itself is a pretty straightforward cooked custard vanilla ice cream that subs in 1/2 cup of olive oil instead of some of the dairy.   See how easy it is to be as chic as Paris' L'Avant-Goût from where Dorie got her inspiration?

The real chic approach to this dessert is in how you serve it and since I was aping L'Avant-Goût I decided to drizzle some lemon olive oil over the top and a few grains of fluer de sel.    Great idea.  The salt brought up the subtle olive notes in the ice cream and with the oil's peppery finish left a slight sweet/heat after flavor that drove home the point that this was not your usual vanilla ice cream.

Tomorrow night we are drizzling balsamic vinegar and strawberries over it.

Olive Oil Ice Cream 
(with Lemon Infused Olive Oil and Fluer de Sel)
adapted from Dorie Greenspan's Around My French Table

Dorie suggests using a fruity olive oil without a peppery finish.   I disagreed so I used a very fruity olive oil with a distinct peppery finish.   If L'Avant-Goût's version can stand up to caramelized olives then then you can bet yours can handle a peppery finish.   In fact, where I to do this one again I would steep the milk in black peppercorns to give it even more heat and kick.   

I would bet that many who tried this ice cream thought the flavor was a bit too subtle and I would pretty much agree.    Next time I will cut the vanilla too.   

• 2 cups whole milk
• 1 cup cream
• 5 large egg yolks
• 1/2 cup sugar
• pinch of flour de del
• 1/2 cup extra virgin olive oil 
• 2 teaspoons vanilla extract
• Lemon infused olive oil (for drizzling)
• fluer de sel

Bring the milk and cream to a boil in a medium sauce pan.    While it is heating up whip the egg yolks and sugar with a whisk until very well blended and slightly thickened.    While whisking rapidly the yolks slowly pour in roughly 1/3 of the milk mixture.   Once the eggs have absorbed the milk mixture you can whisk in the remaining milk/cream a little  more quickly.  Add the salt and then pour the mixture back into the saucepan.  

Heat up the mixture over a medium heat while stirring with a wooden spoon until thickened.   Custard will be done when you can leave a track when you drag your finger across the back of a wooden spoon.  Remove the pan from the heat and pour the custard through a strainer into a medium bowl.   Add the olive oil and the vanilla and stir until thoroughly mixed.   Chill the mixture 4 hours or overnight and then freeze according to your ice cream maker's instructions.

To serve, put two scoops in a cup and drizzle a small amount of the lemon infused olive oil over the top and then a slight pinch of fluer de sel.