Seen here right after the initial sear; I flipped the chicken over and moved it to the indirect side of the grill,
Spatchcock chicken is a cooking method that has intimidated me until today. To spatchcock a chicken, or butterfly it, cutting along the backbone, allowing it to be completely opened out and flattened. Doing this reduces the cooking time significantly and allows the whole bird to be cooked in different, speedier ways, such as grilling, baking, or pan-frying.
I have pretty good knife skills for meats and poultry, so I don’t know why I was afraid to spatchcock a chicken; hell, people spatchcock their turkeys on Thanksgiving, so it cooks quicker. Now that I did it, I feel ridiculous it took me so long to try it.
I decided to make Piri Piri Spatchcocked Chicken. Piri Piri is a Portuguese dish, a marinade made with hot chili peppers, paprika, garlic, olive oil, and lemon. The marinade is slathered on the chicken; then, the chicken is grilled or baked.
Of course, I didn’t have any official piri piri, aka peri-peri chili peppers, so I had to improvise like usual. After reading dozens of recipes, I used what I had and put together my own marinade. I thought I made it spicy enough, but it could have been spicier for sure.
Yesterday, I brined my whole chicken then spatchcocked it. I patted it dry and popped it into the refrigerator until today. That was my first mistake. I should have applied the marinade then so that it would have permeated flavor into the chicken better.
Piri Piri Chicken is traditionally seared with grill marks on the skin side of the chicken over a hot grill, then flipped over to indirect heat to finish cooking. I used an internal digital thermometer so I wouldn’t second guess myself on doneness and temperature.
I was happy with my sear marks and the way the chicken was cooked. I rotated it once during the cooking time so both sides would be close to the hot side of the grill. I let the chicken rest and then carved it into 2 breasts, 2 wings, two legs, and 2 leg and thigh pieces.
Not burned…this is the way it should look from the initial searing on the skin side.Not the prettiest carving job because even though I let the chicken rest, it was hot af when I was cutting it.
It was cooked perfectly, juicy and tender. The char marks didn’t taste burned; they tasted grilled; I was skeptical until I actually tasted it. The meat fell off the bone and was delicious. There could have been a lot more flavor, though. Next time, I will make my marinade more potent and let the chicken marinate for at least 24 hours.
Piri Piri Spatchcocked Chicken was a hit and a lot easier than I thought! I’m going to try roasting a whole spatchcocked chicken next with lots of butter and herbs under the skin. Did I mention how much I love roasted and grilled chicken…yes, at least a dozen times.
Last April, Marty and I were supposed to go on our first real vacation together, just the two of us, since around 1994. That’s almost 27 years ago!
January 2020, we booked an all-inclusive vacation in Mexico with a premium liquor package. There were lots of gluten-free friendly restaurants in our hotel. The hotel’s executive chef would have met with us and discussed our dietary restrictions.
We were both excited that we took the plunge and put down $3,400 bucks for the airline tickets and hotel. We had been saving up this for a long time. I was nervous about spending the money because what if something happened and we couldn’t go. Then COVID Hit.
During the lockdown in March, I was in denial at first, thinking we would still be able to go on April 20. Slowly, I began to panic because we used Priceline…no refunds. Marty tried to call Priceline, but they would only talk to you 48 hours before your scheduled departure. I was pissed, sad, angry, and sick to my stomach that we wouldn’t get our money back.
I saw someone on a Facebook post that said vacation booking agents were giving refunds due to COVID. Holy shit, I almost did a backflip! We still had to wait a couple of weeks to talk to someone, but now there was some hope.
All booking agents did the right thing and reimbursed everyone’s hotel money. United Airlines gave us a credit that had to be used by the end of January 2022. At least we had plenty of time to plan a new vacation; little did we know how long Covid restrictions would still be in place.
With half of 2021 over, we knew we needed to book something or lose our $1,000 airline credit. Going overseas was out because COVID was still bad in many other countries. I had my heart set on Paris for a long weekend, but it wasn’t worth the risk, and the Eiffel Tower is covered in scaffolding for repairs anyway.
We put together a checklist of must-haves for our vacation, Our checklist needed to include the following: guaranteed hot and sunny weather, a hotel with a beautiful pool, close enough to restaurants and bars that we could walk to, and different things to see and do. Las Vegas checked off all those items.
Gondola ridesBeautiful pools
Marty called Priceline, and we held our breath while we waited to see if we could use our airline credit; we could! Happy dance! We looked at prices and dates for both flights and hotel deals. Surprisingly, we found a great deal for $137 a night at the 5-star Venetian Hotel. We decided we would stay 4 nights in Vegas and one night in Albany the night before our early morning flight. Plus, we could keep our car at the hotel for $5 a night; the hotel is right across the street from the Albany Airport.
CourtyardInside the Venetian Hotel
I wasn’t going to write about our trip because I didn’t want to jinx it. September weather in Vegas is ideal; there are tons of gluten-free friendly restaurants and bars everywhere. The pools and the hotel is gorgeous. We can walk over to the Paris Hotel, see the Eiffel Tower replica, and explore the Paris “streets.” Our hotel is modeled after Venice, complete with gondola rides.
Yes, Vegas can be kitschy and cheesy, but it can also be the perfect escape we need desperately. We want to lounge by the pool during the day and hit the town at night. We don’t gamble, but there are tons of shows and events going on. I think the Van Gogh Immersive Experience will be there when we are…I’ve been wanting to go so badly, hoping to see it in Paris or NYC. Hopefully, I can see it in Vegas.
We’ve planned our trip right before Oktoberfest season, but with a lot of hard work and planning ahead on our deliveries, we should have no problem pulling the trip off. We have never completely closed the business in the four years we have been in business. I have no problem having my phone on “Do not disturb,” but I will have to force us not to take business calls or reply to emails or social media messages; it will stress us out and ruin our trip.
So I am super excited, to say the least; it’s less than two months away! “We’re going to Vegas, baby!” Yay!
Me at a farm stand down the Jersey shore back in 2016. I love that the sign said, “Please handle carefully.”
Every July, I start looking forward to getting my hands on some Jersey tomatoes. New Jersey is the Garden State, which most people don’t think of when they think of New Jersey. Most people have seen congested industrial areas that are not only ugly but very crowded. Many people go through the industrial areas when they take Route 95 or the New Jersey Turnpike while heading down to Florida or fly into Newark airport…they see the gray, smoky, dirty Jersey. Not the beautiful parts.
New Jersey has so many gorgeous beaches down the shore that are clean, wide, with lots of soft sand. Compared to New England, the water is warm and not ice cold. New Jersey also has abundant farmland, beautiful parks, and lots of history. It’s actually the soil and the climate is that make Jersey tomatoes so special. In 1968 Rutgers University introduced a special tomato variety called Ramapo or aka the Rutgers tomato. The classic Jersey tomato is sweet and tangy with big tomato flavor. Jersey tomatoes are not known for being beautiful tomatoes; most are perfectly imperfect.
Imagine this: picking a vine-ripened tomato from the vine and making a Jersey tomato sandwich with a still-warm tomato from the sun. Jersey tomatoes don’t last when they are ripe; you have a small window of eating them before they go bad. Jersey tomatoes also don’t ship well since they have a short life span from vine to customer. This means you get Jersey tomatoes in New Jersey mid to late July; when they are gone, it’s over for another summer. This is what makes them so special. Truly a seasonal delicacy.
BLT from last summer
A Jersey tomato sandwich is two slices of bread or toast with mayo slathered on both slices. You add thick tomato slices and generously season them with kosher salt and pepper. You can also make a kick-ass BLT with Jersey tomatoes.
A friend from my hometown in NJ brings me Jersey tomatoes every summer when she comes to Vermont to camp just 1/2 mile from our home here in Arlington. Ann always comes through for me. She lives down the Jersey shore, and the tomatoes are readily available until they are gone in just a few short weeks.
The best way to enjoy a Jersey tomato is with a sprinkle of salt and pepper. So juicy, sweet and delicious.
One of my favorite ways to eat a Jersey tomato sandwich is on toast smeared with bacon fat that I keep in my refrigerator spread on both slices of toast, no mayo, just a little kosher salt and pepper on the tomato slices, and voila! A delicious sandwich! It’s a genius way of adding bacon flavor without having the ass-ache of cooking bacon.
We picked up these fresh onions at the Troy Farmers Market today, we grilled them up with a little olive oil, salt and pepper.
To me, when I think about summertime Jersey tomatoes immediately pop into my head, either in sandwich form or used in a beautiful Caprese salad. Last night at the Arlington Farmers Market, we picked up some fresh mozzarella cheese from Norm at Maplebrook Farm to go with the tomatoes Ann brought us. I picked some basil leaves from my back deck. I added a drizzle of extra virgin olive oil, kosher salt, and pepper. The purest, simple, delicious dish using just a few in-season ingredients.
My basil is getting big!
If you have ever had a Jersey tomato, I know you are nodding while reading this; if you haven’t, it’s something that you have to try at least once; they really are special and world-famous. I did find “Jersey field grown” tomatoes right at a produce stand in Bennington, VT, a couple of years ago. I was skeptical, but one bite, and I knew they weren’t bullshitting around. Jersey tomatoes in Vermont! Who knew!
We had a Caprese salad for dinner tonight, and I am making BLT sandwiches for lunch tomorrow. We have about two more days to eat the ones Ann brought up yesterday, then that’s it…for another year.
Sunday morning snapping the boys photos all warm and cozy. I did’t know Marty took this, but I like it!
Sunday morning, it was pouring rain and chilly. We still sat outside and had our coffee; we just covered ourselves with the blankets we keep on the front porch. It’s a brilliant idea that we didn’t start doing until last summer. The porch is so comfortable that you can nap or even sleep, for that matter, out there.
Spoiled rotten!
I covered the boys, Otto & Klausie, with their red blankets and they stayed nestled up for over an hour. When it got warm out, they shed the blankets and slept the rest of the morning on the porch—the good life indeed for these spoiled dogs of ours.
They each have their own couches! Klaus kicks the pillows off of his side…aka my side!
Thank goodness we have the front porch with all the rainy weather we’ve had this year. Last summer, we had a campfire almost every night in our side yard, but it’s been too wet, too late, or raining every night. We haven’t had one fire yet this year.! Damn, we gotta get on that before we run out of summer nights.
Ice cold double dirty vodka martini with a bleu cheese stuffed olive straight up! 🍸
It’s 9:05 pm and I just got home from bellydance class. I just finished putting away some groceries I picked up before class. It’s a drag to have to lug stuff inside when my legs feel like rubber after a day of production then dancing for 3 hours.
We have not eaten dinner before 9:30 pm for the last two weeks and tonight will be no exception. Lately, Marty and Sam have gone on rescue squad calls and don’t get home until close to 10 pm. I’m so busy catching up with things that before I know it they are home and we all eat together. As I recall eating late happens every summer when we are out straight with work.
Dance class was great tonite! Very hot and humid, but great. No matter how tired, stressed, or down any of us are, dance changes all of that and we leave happy. Dancing is the best therapy in the world!
I am sitting here waiting for the boys to get back and I made myself a double dirty vodka martini with a bleu cheese stuffed olive. I am craving salt probably because of how much we sweated tonight. I make my martinis with very little vermouth; I basically just wave the bottle over the ice to barely wet it. That’s the way my dad taught me when I was around 10 years old. He bartended for a caterer on weekends and taught me how to make drinks. That was the norm back then or at least in our house anyway.
I am so glad I made that pot of Bolognese sauce on Monday. I am reheating it and making some linguine. The funniest thing about being professional pasta makers is that we never have enough for ourselves to eat this time of the year!
Hi guys!
So cheers my friends! This is all I have in me tonight as far as a blog post, but I wanted to just say, “Hi!” Good-nite…
I love steamed clams. I like small clams such as littlenecks, cherrystone, and Manila clams. Steamer clams are larger and are the ones with that disgusting black thing sticking out on the side of the clam. I’ve eaten them, but they are things I eat quickly and do not look at or think about too much.
Last Thursday, I made the bbq chicken Marty suggested that I just wrote about last night. I saw a bag of cherrystone clams at Shop-Rite and picked up a bag as an appetizer for us. The fishmonger said they were very sweet and delicious. Done deal!
Before I became serious about cooking, I thought clams were just thrown into a pot with some water and steamed. I thought the same thing when making shrimp for shrimp cocktail. Of course, you can do it that way, but then I learned about making a Court Bouillon. This is why food tastes better in restaurants.
From Wikipedia:
Court bouillon loosely translates as ‘briefly boiled liquid’ (French court) or “short broth” because the cooking time is brief in comparison with a rich and complex stock, and generally is not served as part of the finished dish. Because delicate foods do not cook for very long, it is prepared before the foods are added. Typically, cooking times do not exceed 60 minutes.
Although a court bouillon may become the base for a stock or fumet, in traditional terms it is differentiated by the inclusion of acidulating ingredients such as wine, vinegar, or lemon juice. In addition to contributing their own flavor, acids help to draw flavors from the vegetable aromatics during the short preparation time prior to use. Court bouillon also includes salt and lacks animal gelatin.
I made my court bouillon with some white wine, salted water, lots of garlic, lemon, parsley, and a glug of olive oil. When I first started making a court bouillon, I made it a few minutes before throwing my shellfish into the broth. Now I make it ahead and gently steam it for 30 minutes, then take it off the heat. Later I get it up to a boil again and throw in my shellfish.
After I cleaned and inspected the clams I covered them with ice to stay cold until I was ready to steam them.
The cherrystone clams were very clean. I put them in a bowl to scrub them, but no sand was left in the water. I looked through each one making sure it was still alive. Yes, they are alive. The clams should be closed tightly or shut tightly if it’s open a tiny bit. You squeeze the shell, and it closes; it’s alive; if it doesn’t, it’s dead, and you throw it away.
These clams were beautiful! I only found 2 clams whose shells were cracked; I got rid of those. The clams had absolutely no smell, which is an excellent sign of freshness.
After I added the clams to the court bouillon, then put the lid on for 10 minutes. Voila! Perfect!
When my court bouillon came up to a boil, I dumped the clams into the pot and closed the lid. I waited about 10 minutes, and I checked on them. They were all open and ready to eat.
I melted some salted butter and skimmed the white debris off the top of the butter. I didn’t have time to make clarified butter; at this point, it was 9:00 pm. Thursday was my delivery day from hell, and I got a super late start on dinner; plus, I made bbq chicken beforehand.
I piled the clams in a large bowl and poured some of the court bouillon on top of the clams, and we each had a small ramekin with melted butter to dip the clams in.
Wow! They were so sweet, tender, and delicious! The bag of cherrystone clams was $19.99, a steal for such great quality and an appetizer for the 3 of us. I’m sure it would have cost more at a restaurant for all of us. I’m also sure the liquid wouldn’t be such a flavorful court bouillon.
I can’t wait until the next time we meet our distributor, the Alpine House, in the parking lot at Shop-Rite; I’ll go in with an open mind and hopefully come out with something as delicious to make for dinner.
We went to the supermarket Shop-Rite last Thursday after making a few deliveries in the Albany, NY area. I like the supermarket chain Shop-Rite; it’s where my family shopped where I grew up in Iselin, NJ. Unfortunately, there are no Shop-Rites in Vermont, so I go there whenever I can.
We wanted to make a summery meal like we would have if we went away somewhere; it would be some shellfish for me. Marty suggested grilled bbq chicken, something I have never made before, believe it or not. Meal planning is the hardest part of cooking, so if someone gives me a suggestion or request, I jump on it.
All the memories that I had of grilled bbq chicken were terrible ones. Whoever was the “grill master” would start with some delicious-smelling chicken. Then they would brush bbq sauce on the grilled chicken parts. Here’s the bad part, they would leave the chicken on the grill until it was completely black and incinerated.
I know the people who were doing the grilling didn’t do the cooking inside their homes but insisted on doing the outdoor cooking. I also know they didn’t want to kill their families and guests from food poisoning from undercooked chicken. But hello, do you have eyes and a nose? Don’t you see it turning black and smelling burned? Is that how you eat it when someone who knows how to grill serves it?
As a kid, I would be so disappointed that bbq chicken was ruined. My dad never made bbq chicken; grilling wasn’t his thing; he liked to cook. So I had to have it at other people’s cookouts. Everyone would pretend to eat the chicken that was burnt beyond recognition. I’m sure people had to stop at McDonald’s or White Castle on their way home since everyone was starving after the cookout.
Last night on a Michael Pollan show called “Cooked,” they showed an old black and white TV clip where a son watched his father grill and asked the dad why he was cooking. “A women’s place is in the kitchen; men do the outdoor barbequing.” 😖 Thank goodness things have changed.
Since we decided on bbq chicken, I read how to make it, which is much easier than smoking chicken. The cook time is quicker, but you have to pay more attention. I followed a recipe loosely that turned out better than I thought. Yay!
I brined the chicken for a few hours then patted it dry. Next, I covered the chicken parts with olive oil, kosher salt, and pepper. Unfortunately, it took me a while to have a fire hot enough to grill on; Marty had to come to my rescue since I don’t have my fire-starting badge yet.
The recipe instructions called for a hot and cool side of the grill. So, basically, you push all the hot coals over to one side. I followed the recipe searing the skin side first on the hot side of the grill, then flipping it over to do the same thing to the other side.
Next, I moved the chicken to the cool side of the grill. I kept checking and flipping the chicken. I also checked the temperature of the chicken; when it was getting close to 165 degrees, I started brushing on the bbq sauce. I repeated this a few times until the temperature of the chicken was above 180-degrees. If I didn’t brine the chicken first, it might have started drying out at that point.
I took the chicken off the grill and let it sit while I concentrated on the rest of our dinner. It came out really good! Better than I had hoped for! Yes! It was some legit bbq chicken. We all agreed it was the best thing I’ve made on the smoker grill so far.
I love roasted chicken and could eat it every day; now I love bbq chicken as much and could definitely eat it every day. I’m so happy that this time I was successful on my first try! Yay!
Photo credit Wayside Country Store. Fireworks from the Firemen’s Carnival practically over our house last night.
It happens every summer; by July, Marty and I feel burnt out. We both feel like we are running on a hamster wheel and not getting anywhere. It also feels like the movie “Groundhogs Day” with Bill Murray. Every day is the same, done in the same order with the same results pretty much.
As I type this, sipping my coffee on this rainy Sunday morning, I’m thinking about how far we are behind already for next week. I’m also thinking about when the hell the rain is going to stop. The rain held off for our farmers market yesterday and for the Arlington Firemen’s Carnival on Friday and Saturday. I am glad for both because it’s the same amount of work if the weather is gorgeous and you know you will have lots of customers as it is fretting about bad weather and IF you will have any customers. You have to be ready in both cases and keep your fingers crossed.
Last week was a whirlwind of ups and downs. The ups were fantastic, and the downs were…well, not great. I know I am burned out when there are so many things I want to do and have to do that I end up biting off more than I can chew and get frazzled and stressed. Not being able to do the things I want to do puts me in a shitty ass mood.
We had a great time when my sister Jennifer came for a visit, but we had to work both days. It’s not that we don’t like to work, we love our business and making spätzle, but there aren’t enough hours in the day to work and have a life. I also know most business owners don’t have a life, but we love summer so much, and it’s so short here in Vermont that we both see it slipping away…quickly.
I don’t have enough time to write, which bums me out because I have so many things going through my head that I want to tell you about but can’t. I’m hardly on social media because I have to use that time to get things done; when I do go on, I see everyone’s vacation photos. I am envious that my friends are on beaches and at pools. They are eating lobster rolls and other amazing summertime foods. They are at live music concerts, traveling, and camping.
It seems everyone is enjoying their summer while I am over here running on the hamster wheel. When I say envious, I mean it; I don’t mean jealous; I am happy that my friends are living their lives again after a year of doing nothing. On the other hand, we are doing the same thing as we did last year; of our own doing. Don’t get me wrong; I am grateful we even still have a business after last year; we just need to come up for air for a minute.
Thursday, we were in Albany, NY, by 9 am, an hour from here, to make some deliveries. It would not be a production day, which set us back even further. We went into a big Shop-Rite while we were there already and planned our menu for later that night. We decided on a summery menu since it was probably the only hot & sunny day of the week.
We had other deliveries to make later in the afternoon, Marty went North, and I went South to get them all done. I was so hot, tired, and flustered that I lost my keys in the van; I knew they were there because I unlocked the doors. I spent the next 20 minutes cursing, praying to St. Anthony to help me find my keys. I know that St. Anthony is so sick of me losing shit all the time, but he always comes through. “St. Anthony, St. Anthony, please come around; my keys are missing and can’t be found.” I am sure he makes me wait to pay for all the cursing I do.
At one point during the missing key situation, I really started getting mad. There was no way on fucking earth I would make that call to Marty and tell him I lost the keys in the van. No way that was going to happen! Just as I almost started to cry, I looked down and saw the key stuck between the front seat and the cargo area. I thanked St. Anthony the whole way to my next delivery.
At my next delivery, I somehow cut my pinky finger, and it bled like a mother. I didn’t know where or how I did it but realized it when I was covered with blood. I quickly went back into the place I made the delivery to see if I was bleeding in there, but thank goodness I wasn’t. I had to wrap my pinky in a dirty, crumpled-up tissue that I found under the seat where the key was hiding earlier. Thank God this was my last delivery stop. I got home so much later than I planned. This is how life on the hamster wheel goes, going nowhere fast.
At this point, I am also going to add that somehow, on the Fourth of July, while sitting down, my left quad leg muscle went into a painful spasm that has left me hobbling around, having to go up and down stairs like Gimpy. I’ve tried everything to get this muscle to heal, but it’s taking its sweet ass time. It’s so frustrating since I am on my feet constantly, and it hurts. I am a train wreck right now, aren’t I? LOL
Back to Thursday…when I got home, I still wanted to make the meal we planned on when we bought all the ingredients in Shop-Rite. Was I nuts? Yes! Did I pull it off? Barely. Did it taste good, and more importantly, was it worth it? You bet your ass it was.
Today we are relaxing. We tried to plan a quick getaway for a night or two but forgot we were finally getting the cracked windshield replaced in the van after months of waiting. Our particular windshield hasn’t been available during the pandemic, which means we haven’t been able to get the van inspected either. We have to be grown-ups and have it done and take the van for inspection. I hate being a grown-up! I wouldn’t have been in such a hurry to grow up if I knew it sucked sometimes.
Typing this blog post early this morning…
So enough of my pissing and moaning. I’m not looking for sympathy or anything like that; it’s an authentic blog that can’t be all made-up bullshit and roses. I get cranky and whiny when I feel burned out. I’ll get over it. It’s funny that I chose the mug that says, “GET SHIT DONE” for my coffee this morning; probably a bad choice, but I didn’t even think when I poured my coffee.
The Firemen’s Carnival firetruck and tractor rides…packed every non-stop trip they both made all night.
All in all, the weekend turned out well. We sat on our front porch Friday night and watched all the people going to and from the carnival. We lost track of how many times the firetruck and tractor rides went by our house. People waved to us while we were relaxing with a cocktail. I was indeed relaxed, especially since I made myself a Bloody Mary to go with my late lunch after production. 😉
Sometimes you just have to have a Bloody Mary for lunch…I mean with lunch. We laugh that it is like a salad with tomatoes and other veggies from the V-8. Potatoes from the vodka, celery from the celery salt, and horseradish. I always add lemon to my Bloody Mary; it wakes it up and doesn’t make it too acidy.
We had a successful farmers’ market selling out before the market was over. Last night we went to the Firemen’s carnival; Marty and Sam were on call with the rescue squad, so they brought the ambulance to the carnival in case they had a call, which they did at the end of the night. I had a good time; it was fun catching up with some friends were haven’t seen for a long time.
Look how much Sam grew up from just a few years ago. We always take this selfie every year. This one made us cry laughing last night when I found it.
Later on, I am looking forward to writing about the fantastic food I made on that frazzled Thursday. I am making a pot of Indian Butter Chicken for dinner tonight or tomorrow and some more doggie meatballs for Klaus. This type of cooking isn’t a chore; it’s my zen. Have a great Sunday, guys! Thanks for listening. ❤️
I’ve made French Onion Soup many times; I started with Julia Child’s French Onion Soup recipe from “Mastering the Art of French Cooking.” This is a very tough cookbook to use, let alone master. I know many inexperienced home cooks who will buy a copy, try a couple of the labor-intensive recipes, and vow to never cook anything from it again.
This cookbook was intended for American home cooks who wanted to learn how to cook French food. I read somewhere that Julia thought all the recipes were “manageable.” Manageable, meaning you already know how to cook well and have odd and hard-to-find ingredients available. You also need an array of kitchenware and a whole lot of time.
Julia is a very talented cook/chef who started cooking late in life. She mastered French cooking in a snap. I’ve wondered how in the hell she can lift, flip, pound ingredients with such ease and use hefty cookware. She is over a foot taller than me and stronger than most men…that’s how.
Don’t get me wrong; I love Julia Child and this cookbook. I love rewatching her PBS French Chef TV episodes. Her French Chef TV series actually showed American home cooks how to tackle the recipes. I have the cookbook The French Chef that I got for Christmas a few years ago from my sister Heather. I like this cookbook so much more because the recipes are written more clearly, and only covered the cream of the crop recipes on the TV show, not the other 150+ unmanageable ones.
I’ve tried making Julia’s 8-page French omelet in the same kind of pan she used, I am not tall enough at the stove to follow her instructions, so I have to adapt. She adapted by having all her kitchen counters, including on the set of the French Chef, lifted so she didn’t have to bend down. Realistically, I can’t have mine lowered. I am also not strong enough to shake the cast iron pan around like I am making jiffy pop.
After I made Julia’s onion soup the first time, I tried some shortcut recipes. I did the same thing with her 38-step Boeuf Bourguignon recipe. The shortcuts didn’t cut the mustard. After trying a dozen shortcut recipes, I’ve decided to use the French Chef’s recipes if I want to make it.
None of the shortcut recipes had the same depth of flavor as Julia’s. The soup tasted ok, but not the best onion soup I ever had. The same thing happened with the boeuf bourguignon recipe. I constantly compared the shortcut recipes to Julia’s, so I stop wasting time and use her damn recipe.
Julia is straightforward before she even starts the recipe to use a very sharp chef’s knife. Using a sharp knife to cut onions does not break down the cell walls inside the onion’s membranes. A dull knife causes a rougher cut, which in turn release gases that make your eyes burn. Shortcut recipes don’t tell you that. I used a very sharp knife, and my eyes teared up anyway.
Yellow onions sliced before caramelizing
Not too many ingredients to make the soup. I used a California red like Julia did.
The caramelization process and after deglazing with red wine. All the fond came off the bottom of the pot. Fond is the brown bits at the bottom of the pot, deglazed with wine or stock. In Julia’s case, it was always wine or some other kind of liquor.
Shortcut recipes rush the caramelization of the onions resulting in not as rich a flavor. They also don’t have you add grated fresh onion at the end of the cooking. I experimented and tasted the soup before I added the freshly grated onions. It tasted like french onion soup; I tasted it again after I added the fresh onion, and I’ll be damned…it does “lift” the soup up with a stronger onion flavor in a good way. I could taste the rich caramelized onions as well as the fresh ones. Genius!
After adding the beef stock. I added half a red onion and half a vadalia onion; it’s what I had in the fridge. I would have used a whole yellow onion if I didn’t have these laying around.
Shortcut recipes have you toast the baguette slices then melt cheese on them before adding them to the soup. What the hell kind of lazy shit is that? You add a whole cup of the cheese, a combination of Swiss & Parmesan on top of the bread floating on top of the soup, then put it under the broiler to melt. The results? Ooey gooey cheesy heavenly topped onion soup.
The soup takes about 2 1/2 hours from start to finish, with the most time caramelizing the onions. I had things to do in the kitchen, and I wrote my surf & turf post while the onions were doing their thing.
I let the soup cool a bit then I popped it into the fridge for the next evening’s dinner. When it was time to reheat the soup, I brought it up to a simmer slowly. In the meantime, I got the grated cheeses and baguette crotons ready.
Just before we were going to eat, I ladled the soup into large soup crocks. Next, I floated the baguette crotons on top, topping with both grated cheeses.
Just a few minutes under the broiler and the cheese was bubbling and golden. My crocks were much too large to get the cheese to ooze down the sides of the crocks. I’ll have to keep my eye out in thrift shops for smaller crocks.
The soup was hotter than hell when we tried to eat it. It was like hot lava; cheese topped hot lava. Finally, when I could get in there, I actually used a fork to lift a piece of long pully cheese. It was so good! It was also very filling.
My sister Jennifer was visiting from NJ and said that it was the best French Onion Soup she ever had; it definitely is up there with the best of the best, not because I made it, but because I followed a fabulous recipe. Julia Child’s recipe.
If you like to cook, I urge you to try the Julia Child recipe and follow it exactly. I promise in the end; you will not be disappointed. If you don’t like to cook, find someone who does and get them to make it for you. 😉
It’s like Goldy Locks and the Three Bears…Someone’s been prepping in my space, and there she is. 😂
I’ve been missing in action for a couple of days; my sister Jennifer was visiting from NJ. Whenever I have company, I spend time with them and try not to use my phone or laptop. Jen arrived Monday evening driving up after work; she’s a pediatric dentist. She’s super smart, lol.
We had a late dinner of french onion soup and a roasted carrot salad with maple, balsamic dressing. We ended up having dinner for two because Marty and Sam were out in a rescue squad call. Two back-to-back calls; these poor guys ate their dinner after midnite. What made me feel even worse was that they were both starving before their first call.
Marty and I made a lot of spätzle on Monday with the hopes of not working in the production kitchen during Jen’s visit, but the wholesale orders were pouring in, which is a blessing, so we told Jennifer she would be working with us. She didn’t mind at all.
Marty and I are the entire Vermont Spätzle Company, but it was easy to find something for Jen to help with. As a pediatric dentist, she was meticulous when weighing and measuring spätzle then packing the spätzle into our 12 oz retail-sized packages.
❤️❤️❤️
I told her to pack work clothes just in case we needed to work; she was so cute when she came down the stairs with her scrubs on.
The three of us were able to bang out production with ease which left the rest of the day free. We ate, hung out, watched movies, laughed a lot, and had another late dinner.
I made jerk pork tenderloin on the grill with candied curried sweet potatoes and grilled pineapple. Jen brought the pineapple and talked me through how she makes it. It is finished with chili-lime seasoning which gave it a kick, and the lime cut through the sweetness. The grilled pineapple was delicious; I will definitely be making this again! I didn’t take any photos since it was an unattractive tone on tone meal: Delicious, but nothing great to look at.
It was a short visit since she left at noon yesterday. We made an early lunch before she left; we made Thai panang chicken curry with rice noodles. It was best she left when she did to avoid downstate traffic, and we had a severe thunderstorm around 3 pm. The storm was even worse in the Albany area, so I’m thankful she wasn’t driving through there then.
It feels natural for Jennifer to help me in the kitchen; I always insist that no one helps me. I had her prep the vegetables for the curry. When I looked at her, she was standing in my exact prepping spot with Klaus right at her feet, hoping for something to fall off the workbench. I saw myself when I looked at them. Standing the same way, she’s just a foot taller than me with a ponytail and glasses like mine. Lol!
Her knife cuts were perfect and exact then I showed her how I make my Thai curries. I make mine very traditional; no fusion ingredients. A few simple ingredients are all it takes. I’ll have to post one of the Thai recipes that we made in my cooking class.
Marty and I had to head back into the production kitchen after she left to squeeze in a couple more batches of spätzle. Marty needed it to make 3 deliveries in the afternoon when I went to bellydance class.
We had a great time. It’s hard to believe Jennifer, and I have only known each other for a little over two years. It feels like we’ve always known each other. She will be back in a couple of weeks for another very short visit with her kids Sofia & Julian; to make up for our botched Fourth of July celebration.
We want to try to fit in a bunch of things in only 24 hours, including tubing down the Battenkill River and a gondola ride up Stratton Mountain. Hopefully, Mother Nature will be kind to us and bless us with nice weather. 🙏🏼
