Recipe #6: 'Pressed Potatoes' (page 149)

This recipe never sounded that interesting but seemed simple enough.  I figured I could knock one out quickly, perhaps use it as the base for another recipe (as Fergus' recommends) and possibly be enlightened by the end result exceeding my expectations which were low.

I did my shopping post-work day sans shopping list.  Of course the ingredients needed for this formula are few but no matter that, I failed and purchased a potato not waxy enough (Russet) to do the job properly (Yukon Gold are recommended).  In my own ignorant defense, the only potatoes I ever use are reds, usually of the creamer variety.  And when I use them, their starch content is not a point of important note.

Which leads back to the motivations for using or even having created this recipe.  With an initial cursory inspection it seems that this recipe is destined to create a starchy, dense cake of potatoes.  I did not know why this would be appetizing before I began but I had to bet that by the end I would have learned the answer.  I did in fact learn something but that particular solution continues to elude me.

As directed I boiled the peeled potatoes then sliced them into sturdy 1/2" slices.  I was using a small loaf pan, approximately 8" x 3".  I lined it with a (used) cut up ziplock bag as I disdain plastic wrap.  I seasoned aggressively and likely went beyond the intended use of capers.  I am all for subtlety but these dull, floury potatoes screamed out for something to assist them.  Looking back perhaps a bottle of catsup would have done better.

I weighted them with a number of items as I was already thinking that my potatoes were not of the correct strain to succeed in this arena; perhaps overcompensating in another direction would make up lost ground.  I found that a standard size VHS tape was almost the exact size and surely rigid enough to distribute the weight.

At first I reached for a large 'paperweight' which was not currently fastening down any print caught up in the cyclonic breeze that storms through my small abode.  Last summer I moved probably 1000 lbs of decorative stone from the front to rear yards at my grandfather's house.  I had a small tractor and trailer to assist but still had to load and unload the rocks manually.  This single remaining stone weighs 7 lbs. probably and we laughed at its tiny volume compared to the other boulders.  My grandfather said that I should take it home as a paperweight and I did not argue.  However in this application I decided that it was not heavy enough so I used my Williams-Sonoma molcajete as well.

In the end I allowed my spuds to remain under weight for nearly 20 hours, during which time I brainstormed furiously using only Fergus' few words of advice as inspiration:

"It is a wonderful base for oily, salty things"

He then specifically recommends the use of whole anchovy filets and olive oil followed by an eel stew laid out on other pages.  Eels being difficult to source, and unwilling to undertake that at this time I decided I would be using my own cookery skill.

I knew I would use anchovies.  I knew I would cook in olive oil.  After that, my brain shouted TOMATOES.  I don't know why but that was my starting point.  I spent sometime on the net looking at various recipes and kicking around ideas.  I readied myself for the decanting of my potatoes and finalized my plans.

There was clearly not enough starch content in my potatoes to hold them together.  Also I likely left far too many gaps in my layering, likely I should have wasted 10% of each potato so that they were perfectly square and tiled in the loaf pan.  Bu for a moment let us try to forget the construction of these potatoes and focus on their flavor.  Seasoned well, yes.  The capers did little to nothing, I dreamt that they would inject their saltiness into the potatoes but to no avail.  A total waste.  And how did Fergus' intend that you serve these? I guess I can see pouring the hot eel stew over them such that they become reheated but otherwise they will need to spend a few moments in the nuclear box: a useful appliance no doubt but one by no means suited to the food I hope to create from these pages.

But inspired not was I!  I trudged on with my recipe.  I portioned off a few slices of my rapidly shattering potatoes and began to build my full entree.

I began by rendering a can of anchovies into the oil from their can, I never waste this precious stuff.  Next came most of a medium sized fennel bulb minus its greenery and upper extremities.  The half disintegrated salted fish dirtied the licorice plant matter and a few cloves of fresh chopped garlic chased them.  A jar of marinated artichoke hearts and another of anchovy stuffed olives (a total disappointment, anchovies were non existent) were well drained and kicked into the T-Fal.  As it sizzled I prepared a single filet of catfish with standard seasoning and dosed a second (teflon) pan with more oil.

I considered the use of tarragon but denied its entrance as I worried for an overdose of anise flavor from the fennel.  This was likely unfounded in the end and in tonite's follow up it shall be called to arms.  Two bags of very fresh, sweet and delicious cherry tomatoes got to know the already sizzling mass in my pan.  I stabbed each and every one with my trusty Kuhn-Ricon paring knife and as they rendered a few passes of red wine vinegar was added to temper their sugar content.  Further balance was attempted with a large shake of dried Allepo pepper flakes.

My disassembled but 'pressed' potatoes met gamma rays within the cube - my tomato and fennel relish topped them, and my catfish filet leaned above them both with fennel fronds to garnish.  Success amongst failure!

Recipe #5: 'Green Beans with Shallots, Garlic and Anchovies' (page 153)

As a child I used to follow my grandmother around her garden and amongst the produce I would gobble green and wax beans right off the vine. I suspect that I was urged to do this by my grandmother but either way I couldn't get enough. I am not attempting to expound some love for vegetables (though that is present); I am working towards a similar case, proving that things such as fresh green beans don't need much besides heat, salt and pepper.

Which brings us to today's recipe which is in short a dressing or condiment for that very vegetable. My argument that green beans need little to be a star is not valid across the board. Just because something does not need an additional push does not mean it will not benefit from one. In many ways the components of the condiment seem obvious. I think I would be nearly aghast by anyone being truly shocked that this worked, I knew it would before I ever lifted a finger, or a head of garlic between them. Anchovies and capers are nearly brothers and garlic - especially the roasted variety, in bulk - never hurt a soul. I replaced Fergus' typically conservative dose of parsley with a fair amount of tarragon. It was ideally present but far from overpowering, as that herb can sometimes manage.

But it seems the real surprise is whole roasted shallots. I wonder still if I have properly interpreted Fergus' instructions, but I care not as I have come upon a revelation. Interestingly enough I either did in fact misunderstand his intent with the garlic, or else his own method is quite shoddy. Enjoy the 10% of garlic peeling left in the video below, the other 90% which coated my fingers in an ooze worse than wallpaper paste would have been surely avoided by chopping off the bottom of the head pre-oven. But I did not as the instructions were more vague. Of course I do not follow instructions from anyone, much less a cookbook when they are clearly illogical but in this case I did. I have already come across a number of procedures and protocols foreign to me, some enlightening. This was not.

But similarly leaving shallots whole and roasting them slowly in a low oven (I continually turned down until I reached 325F which is where I would start next time) is magical. First, the texture. They become so airy, like a crushable envelope of organic, carbonized happiness. I may have gone a bit far with them but as outlined above, this was new to me. The flavor is staggering to boot: a depth of caramelization never before seen, with tiny hints of near fudge, or dirt, or black earth. The nuggets being left whole throughout my salad of green beans was a treaure chest of surprises. It brought to mind my brothers own boeuf bourguignon -- I do believe I have found a replacement for his already delicious pearl onions...

A shockwave of vinegar at the close is just what this needs to really amplify the vegetative sweetness. My own weak replacement for simple red wine vinegar (blush pomegranate balsamic) saw its final use before the remaining 50% went drain-bound, the proper product would send this flying to left field. This was a good partner to two small boneless pork chops, the remaining half of the mix left for this afternoon, consumed moments after arriving home from the workplace. A due reward.