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 #2: "Salt Cod, Potato and Tomato" (page 138)

This recipe struck me for its simplicity and its use of salt cod, an item I have never attempted to wrangle.  There is an excellent gourmet cheese store in my neighborhood that I have shopped in many times, they too carry the famous bacala, and it sits in open air unrefrigerated in a wooden box, so rigid that it cannot be constrained by that container and the ends of the long fillets reach upwards, and out.  Fearsome no doubt to the unfamiliar; quizzical to the interested and notified.

This is the kind of 'proper eating' I enjoy, and I feel its an excellent microcosm of the book, and what I enjoy about it.  Potatoes and tomatoes are quite easy to come by of course, so I set out on a Sunday afternoon to a grocery store only a few miles from my home but one I do not frequent.  They did in fact have the salt cod, though I was shocked by its $9.99/lb price tag.  They had prepackaged amounts that led to either a ~$28 or ~$14 price tag.  I opted for the smaller 1.5 lb package and made my way out.

This is another example of Fergus' wild addiction to garlic.  The recipe calls for no less then 28 cloves of garlic: I sourced an excellent head from the same store who's produce is prime.  Its large fresh cloves only reached a summation of likely 12-14 cloves.  The thought of two entire heads of garlic is a bit much by my standards, however I am used to this by now after reviewing this log of recipes time and time again.  As I mixed likely 8 large plum tomatoes with that head of garlic (the cloves lightly smashed and peeled, but not chopped) and a shower of fresh black pepper from my new grinder (another gift from the same [my only] brother) and copious amounts of salt and rosemary it dawned on me that this concoction amounted to something that Emeril (yes, I dared to speak his name in a sentimental fashion) would say would be 'just fine stuffed into a hoagie roll' or something of that nature.

The rosemary raises an important point regarding herbs.  This amounts to another improvisation upon the standards laid upon me by Mr. Henderson.  His use of herbs is quite demure, no doubt an extension of his (quite British) personality.  I am a more brash (read: American) cook and also a student of Jamie Oliver who spoiled me long ago upon gigantic bales of herbs.  This recipe calls for a simple 'handful' of curly parsley, I made the call to use rosemary in fair amounts.  I used the rewards of two long (6") stems chopped, plus two more of the same in with the boiling potatoes.

I did a 12 hour cycle on the salt cod, likely changed the water 5 times.  I started around 6pm the evening prior to this one as I rise at approximately the same hour in the AM.  I changed the water 3 times within the next couple hours, as expected the salt osmosis was great initially.  I did wake around 2:30am (as is standard) for a variety of reasons at which point I changed it once again.  Before I left for work at 6:40am sharp, I drained the cod and left it in the fridge in its container.

Already mentioned is my preparation of the tomatoes, I carefully coached them through their bid in the oven until they appeared beaten sufficiently.  Fergus is careful to mention the rendering of tomato juice into what he refers to as 'tomatoey oil' and he was not kidding.  I was a bit liberal with the olive oil but the delicious liquid produced at the bottom of my immortal Pyrex seems suitable for either refreshment on breakfast cereal or a hot toddy.  The garlic cloves easily mashed into near total disintegration with the help of a standard metal tined fork.  I was worried early on that the concentration of tomato flavor would prove too much even for a seasoned red fruit consumer as myself.  I spent many years preparing and eating home grown tomatoes from my grandmothers garden and I eat salads usually 3 days a week with raw product amongst them.  I allowed a single segment to cool and I was knocked back (I honestly mouthed the word 'wow' after the sample) by the flavors that tasted neither like garlic nor rosemary directly, but some phenomenal sum-is-better-than-its-parts fiesta rendered by the cooking process.

Cooking the spuds was simple enough, the rosemary poached nicely and a huge waft of aroma punched me as I manipulated the lid to check and control boil level. As I removed them from the water I added my salt cod to another pot of already simmering water.  I waited until the last moment to do so as Fergus recommended only 5 minutes to poach it well.  Never having tampered with this material before I followed his advice, or at least prepared to.  I was surprised earlier on at the firmness of the cod even after 12 hours drowned -- this continued as it poached.  I prodded it gently time to time and by 5 minutes I did not feel that it was about to give way.  Edible certainly but Fergus points that it should almost easily shred when drained and cooking has completed.  In the end it took closer to 10 and as directed it did begin to flake when stirred with the other components of this dish.

At the last minute I began to spoon away the 'tomatoey oil' from the large garlic chunks then began to carefully add some that did contain my fork-mashed cloves and in the end could hardly control myself, I added nearly all of it.  This is a dish that calls out to be well seasoned in all regards.  The copious use of rosemary was a home run, unfortunately I cannot agree that simple parsley would bring this together.  A heavier hand with salt/pepper on the tomatoes as well really was the chemistry experiment in my oven that made this come alive.

Total success - though in closing I must admit that I decided to forego Fergus final garnish: hardboiled eggs.  The thought does not disgust me per se but seems wildly unnecessary and too far astray from the more sturdy, rustic flavors the dish delivers.