Discard the marinade, and pat the scallops dry with paper towels. Dust the scallops with flour, dip in the beaten egg, and roll in the bread crumbs.
Heat the first part of the butter and the olive oil in a skillet. Sauté the scallops over medium heat until light brown on both sides. (The oil should sizzle slightly when you set the scallops in.) Transfer to a paper towel, and hold in a warm oven.
Pour the second Vermouth into the sauté pan, reduce by half, then stir in the second butter until fully incorporated. Pour the sauce over the scallops, and garnish with lemon wedges and parsley.
NB: Rémoulade Sauce is an excellent accompaniment for this dish, in place of the sauce.
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Arugula Salad for Serious Arugula Lovers
3 bunches fresh arugula
½ cup (120 mL) extra-virgin olive oil
the juice of 2 lemons
salt and fresh-ground pepper as needed
shaved Pecorino Romano
Rinse the arugula leaves thoroughly, remove the stems, rinse well, spin in a salad spinner, and refrigerate.
Blend the olive oil and lemon juice, salt, and pepper.
Toss the arugula leaves in the oil and lemon, and arrange on a chilled plate. Top with freshly-shaved pecorino Romano cheese.
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I invited Rob Weiss, a former classmate from culinary school, to join me, and came up from Philadelphia to work with me for the summer. He did not, however, have quite the same vision as I, and perhaps due in part to this clash, he fizzled out early on. That I had equalized our salaries, putting us on an even par, turned out to be a bad call on my part, and a tough lesson. You either have passion and commitment for what you undertake, or you don’t.
Nevertheless, one of our early discussions was about demi-glaze, one of our key foundation sauces that summer, an accompaniment for the Tournedos de Boeuf that were a nightly offering on our menu. Demi-glaze typically requires brown veal or beef stock, yet I wanted to avoid the use of veal and beef bones, substituting instead chicken bones. Driven by a youthful idealism, I determined that the use of chicken bones, backs, and necks was somehow more environmentally responsible than the consumption of veal and beef bones – not to mention considerably less expensive. So I followed the classical mode or preparing a brown sauce, using browned chicken bones, which yielded an excellent brown stock, that created an excellent Demi-glaze.
Rob wanted to order two jars of commercial beef base, “just in case,” as he put it, to which I responded “Just in case of what?”
“You never know when we might need it.”
Of course I was adamant on the subject, and through the entire summer I did not permit the presence of even one single jar of commercial beef base. My argument was: “If we have it, we will use it, and I don’t want to use that crap in our cooking.”
Yet at the same time, I was hardly naïve enough to leave myself without some kind of a back-up for our demi-glaze – for whatever reason. Thus I began my stock production a full week before we were slated to open, and the first batch of brown chicken stock was simmered down by roughly ninety-percent of its original volume, yielding a gorgeous liter of rich, thick, gelatinous glace de viande. Glace de viande – meat glaze – was the home-made version of the commercial beef base that I refused to allow into my kitchen; and that commercial version was made up of mostly salt. And with the second round of brown chicken stock, I created a batch of rich, brown demi-glaze.
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Demi-glaze, Summer-of-Moon-1974-style
20 pounds (10 kg) chicken bones, backs, necks, and wings
1 quart (1 liter) mirepoix – onion, celery and carrot, peeled, rinsed, and finely chopped
the green tops of two leeks - well-rinsed, and finely chopped
1 large bouquet garni - parsley and thyme stems, and bay leaf, tied into a bundle
1 heaping tablespoon (5 mL) white peppercorns, wrapped in cheesecloth (sachet)
2 - 6 ounce (170g) cans tomato paste
1 bottle (750 mL) dry red table wine
2 cups (480 mL) all purpose flour
1 pound unsalted butter, clarified
Preheat the oven to 400-degrees F (200-degrees C).
Rinse the chicken parts in cold water, drain, and place into a heavy-duty roasting pan. Roast for one hour, stirring and turning the bones every 15 minutes. Spread the tomato paste over the bones, and continue roasting another hour, until they are very well browned.
Place the flour into a clean, dry pan, place in a pre-heated 400-degree oven, and toast for approximately 2½ hours, stirring and breaking up the flour every 15 minutes. The flour should be medium brown when done. Shake through a screen sieve, and set aside.
Transfer the browned bones to a heavy-duty stock pot, cover with enough cold water to rise above the bones by 6 inches (15 centimeters). Place on high heat, bring to simmer, then skim and discard the foam and fat from the top. Continue simmering gently.
In the meantime, place the onions, carrots and leeks into the pan (celery will not brown due to high water content), blend it with the chicken fat in the pan, and roast for an hour, stirring every 15 minutes. Transfer the pan to the stove top, and pour the bottle of wine into the pan. Over medium heat, using a wooden paddle or wooden spoon, loosen all the caramelized bits of chicken from the bottom of the pan.
Add the roasted mirepoix with red wine, and blend. Add the bouquet garni and peppercorn sachet, and simmer gently for 6 hours, skimming foam and fat from the top of the stock.
Remove the stock from the fire, allow to cool, strain through a fine sieve into a heavy-gauge sauce pot, and simmer moderately for 2 hours.
Carefully strain the stock again, and set aside.
Combine the clarified butter with the toasted, sifted flour, to create a smooth paste (brown roux) roughly the consistency of peanut butter. Put half of this brown roux into a large stainless steel mixing bowl, and ladle in the hot stock, beating the roux and stock with a whisk. Continue until the stock is well-blended into the roux, and transfer to a sauce pot. Once all the roux has been incorporated with the stock, simmer the sauce for an hour, skimming and discarding the impurities that rise and collect at the top.
Strain, cool, cover, and refrigerate until needed.
NB: Classical demi-glaze calls for roasted veal and/or beef bones; this version was innovated during the summer of 1974. It is essential that the chicken bones and the mirepoix be extremely well browned, in order to produce the darkest possible stock. After the roux is incorporated into the stock, it is acceptable to add additional tomato paste for color and character.
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When I wrote that I was on fire, I meant that my enthusiasm knew no bounds as I moved forward with getting my first solo kitchen up and running. The job included lodging in a house to the rear of the restaurant, and I immediately planted an herb garden there. I then wrote up a menu cycle, and began lining up food suppliers.
I decided the menu would be written out daily on four small, wood-framed black chalkboards, each measuring 10-by-15-inches (25.4-x-38 cm). I offered two soups, two-or-three appetizers, four primary courses, and two desserts. As much as possible, all dishes were to be based on local ingredients, and I made contact with a local farmer who raised duck and chicken. I would phone him mid-morning one day, and the next morning he would arrive with the warm, plucked and gutted carcasses of the ducks and chickens I had ordered.
Now I realize that the young chef who suffered through the deaths of hundreds of innocent live lobsters in a Cape Cod restaurant the summer before (See Lobster Slaughter and A Buddhist Prayer), was contributing to the slaughter of innocent chickens and ducks. But I was motivated by a very powerful drive to achieve a level of gastronomic excellence in my first solo kitchen – and for that reason, I was able to view the deaths of the chickens and ducks each week as an expression of some higher goal. Was I fooling myself in order to justify my contribution to the destruction of those innocent birds? Perhaps. But I was al
so aware that it is virtually impossible to separate oneself from some form of destruction that we humans consign upon the earth. As ancient Roman poet Virgil once pronounced, “What region of the earth is not filled with our calamites?” Indeed, it seemed that modern life in the world of humans was a world of destruction on all fronts. Even if I were to personally shift to a 100% plant-based diet, animal products were used in so many things in our culture – certainly something as ubiquitous as footwear. To be honest, I never cared much for Birkenstocks, nor was I willing to give up stylish, comfortable and warm leather jackets – my point being that my personal effort to diminish the destruction of sentient creatures by changing a handful of personal choices would be akin to pouring a cup of rain water into the middle of the North Atlantic Ocean to raise the level of the ocean.
So I sought solace in a gastronomy that offered comfort and restoration – the origin of the term “restaurant” – to our dining clientele, as a way to validate the sacrifice that those chickens and ducks made. It was akin to the process by which the French fattened the livers of their ducks, then slaughtered them for what would become their foie gras – one of the most prized gastronomic comestibles in the world. Americans are very squeamish about such matters, and are typically horrified at the process by which the French over-feed their ducks in order to fatten their livers, which ultimately arrive seared or poached upon their tables. Yet there are far more horrific transgressions committed in the United States on hundreds of vast poultry farms that provide chicken flesh for KFC, Chick-fil-A, McDo and all the other fast food outlets that sully the suburban landscape of America.
In July 2004, PETA (People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals) sent an incognito reporter to secure employment at the KFC-supplying Pilgrim’s Pride slaughterhouse in Moorefield, West Virginia. This employee then video-taped workers committing unspeakable atrocities, including stomping on live chickens, kicking them, and slamming them against floors and walls. Workers ripped the animal’s beaks off, twisted their heads off, spat tobacco into their eyes and mouths, spray-painted their faces, and squeezed their bodies so hard that the birds expelled feces – all while the chickens were still alive.
Dan Rather echoed the views of all sentient humans when he said on the CBS Evening News, “There's no mistaking what the video depicts: chickens horribly mistreated before they're slaughtered for a fast-food chain.” The video from the investigation was broadcast by television stations around the world, on all three national evening news shows, Good Morning America, and all the cable news networks. In addition, more than a million people have watched the footage on PETA's Web site, and many of the world's leading animal welfare experts chimed in to condemn the cruelty at this KFC supplier. Who would not be fully outraged at reading of this horror – down to the seat of their soul. Yet the local court failed to punish the perpetrators, and merely sent them home unemployed – while the junk food addicts of America continue to stand in line by the millions, in a vague stupor, ordering their KFC buckets and their Big-Mac’s and their Char-grilled Chick-fil-A-Super-Deluxe Sandwich with Waffle Fries and a coke.
I do not want to make this a comparative comment on the subject of animal abuse. I was attempting to establish my own personal philosophy as a chef, and admitting my awareness as a cog in a larger machine. In the process of fattening ducks in France to create foie gras, the animals are treated with honor and respect. They live in well-ventilated sheds, are fed the highest quality food, and are permitted to roam as they wish within a broad area of free-range space. Their lives are honored for creating a delicacy that brings nutritional enhancement to those who care for them. In fact, the southwest of France, the center of the foie gras production area, is notable for having half the incidence of heart disease that occurs in the rest of their nation; which is half again of what it is in the United States. As one 94-year-old French foie gras producer said, “Red wine and foie gras is the long life diet.” In addition, French foie gras production is founded on a tradition more than 2000 years old, dating back to the ancient Romans who fattened pigs on dried figs to create a similar delicacy.
In a perfect world, humans would not abuse any animal for any reason, nor would they be involved in the production of billions of pounds of chicken, veal, beef, and pork flesh for their fast food, super-size-me, stuff-em-down-yer-gullet sandwiches. But we hardly live in a perfect world.
Thus I was able to assign higher ground through my culinary creations, to the gentle birds who were sacrificed for what I deemed a higher good. It was my humble effort to honor the lives of those birds.
As for “Long Island Duck” it was a notable specialty that had garnered some press in the late 1970s as a distinctive food item unique to the United States. In fact, the presence of ducks on Long Island dates back to 1873, when New York City merchant Ed McGrath visited the Imperial City of Pekin, China. After seeing some very large white ducks, McGrath purchased twenty-five eggs and had them incubated in Shanghai. Once hatched, McGrath arranged with James E. Palmer, an American also visiting China at the time, to bring the ducks back to the United States, in exchange for possession of half of them. Sadly, sixteen of the birds died en route; but the remaining nine arrived in New York on March 13, 1873, after a 124-day voyage.
Pekin duck produced an extremely tender, juicy flesh, and Eastern Long Island boasted the perfect environment for the birds – a moderate growing climate, extensive shoreline property, sandy soil, and abundant fresh water. Its proximity to New York City and other East coast cities was also a significant advantage in marketing fresh duck, and as a result, the local duck growers replaced their stock with Pekin ducklings.
Long Island and eastern Massachusetts were the production centers of the early duck industry – though the Massachusetts farmers raised their birds via a dry farming method, which did not utilize creeks or streams. But Eastern Long Island, with its numerous streams and ponds, provided an environment that promoted the success of the industry. As a result, by 1900, approximately thirty duck farms were in operating in towns of Moriches, Eastport and Riverhead; by 1940 that number had grown to ninety. When the total annual production from the duck farms in Suffolk Count-y reached nearly eight-million ducks in 1959, the waste run-off from the farms was causing serious environmental problems – degrading the shoreline, altering bay and creek hydrology, leaving bay bottoms oxygen depleted, and ruining the beach-side waters for bathing and fishing.
Eventually the State of New York instituted stringent pollution control requirements, which forced many of the duck farmers to fold or relocate to the Midwest. Today, Suffolk County accounts for only about 10% of the roughly 23-million ducks (circa 2003) grown across the nation for the national market – although these birds are still renowned throughout the world. The other 90% of the duck production takes place in Wisconsin and Indiana, where they are raised indoors to protect them from predators, control odors and manage their manure – which is collected and used elsewhere as fertilizer.
The three farms producing a little over two-million ducks annually in Suffolk County are: the Jurgielewicz Duck Farm in Moriches; Crescent Duck Farm, in Aquebogue; and the smaller scale Massey Duck Farm in Eastport. The Jurgielewicz Duck Farm, founded in 1919, raises “free range” ducks in outdoor pens, which command a premium price. They are ranked the 2nd largest duck producer in the country, producing 1.25 million ducks annually, and shipping 12,000 ducks a week to upscale restaurants in the City of New York – including operations in Chinatown.
Crescent Duck Farm, founded in 1908, also produces ducks for the upper end of the market, supplying almost half of the New York metropolitan area restaurants that serve duck. Their annual production is 900,000 ducks, though most of their ducks are kept inside for their entire life span. Both Jurgielewicz and Crescent Duck Farms have invested heavily in upgrading on-site facilities, which will help make them viable operations for the foreseeable future.
We also ran a pork and a beef dish on the menu, but those raw ingredients came from a com
mercial purveyor based in New York City, and well before the popularity of Kobe-style beef, later marketed as Wagyu beef, or of organically-raised hogs – cruelty, hormone and antibiotic-free. The breeds of beef cattle that were developed in the 1980s, yield flesh that is well-marbled and contains a high percentage of unsaturated fat; a similar quality is found in the organically-raised pork, representing a higher quality life for the animals, a higher quality meat, and environmentally-sound methods of production.
Though I signed on with a commercial produce supplier to augment available local vegetables, there was a delightful Austrian woman who lived not far from the restaurant, who planted a garden in the summer. I purchased everything she grew – from zucchini and yellow squash, to bell peppers and tomatoes,; from string beans and broccoli, to cucumbers and lettuce. It was the perfect symbiotic arrangement – she earned cash for the winter months, while I had a regular supply of fresh vegetables for my cuisine du marché.
Then there was Ivan Buradovitch, who went out fishing around 3:00 AM, and who came in with monk fish, blue fish, sea bass, mackerel, flounder, and occasionally some swordfish – all scaled, gutted and ready to fillet. I generally bought everything he had, and again, we developed the perfect symbiotic relationship.
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Some popular dishes from the Moon menu, summer 1974:
APERITIFS / APPETIZERS
Kænemælkskolskål / Swedish Buttermilk Soup
Bisque champignon / Mushroom Bisque
Gazpacho à la lune / Moon-style Gazpacho
Potage crème de concombre / Chilled Cream of Cucumber Soup
Tomate gratinée aux anchois / Broiled Tomatoes & Anchovies
Have Blade Will Travel: The adventures of a traveling chef Page 12