Tuesday, July 29, 2008

Risotto of Fresh Peas and Pea Shell Infusion


One of the aspects of appreciation that Elizabeth discusses in "Kansha" is fully utilizing your ingredients and avoiding waste.

Fresh peas are a treat, but I've always been bothered by the disappointingly small yield. After shelling a bag of peas from my local farmer's market, I had 1/3 peas and 2/3 pea shells by weight.


So, what can you can do with the pea shells?

I decided to steal an idea from the wonderful "Peas & Shoots in Shell Consomme'" featured on an early June tasting menu at Ubuntu restaurant in Napa, CA:



Ubuntu's chef, Jeremy Fox, shows appreciation for the garden by using peas, pea tendrils, and a pea shell consomme' to create some complexity and interplay. We've got two forms of mint: fresh chocolate mint leaves and fresh mint oil. For me, the most unexpected elements of this dish were bits of white chocolate, which provided some creaminess and accented the sweetness of the peas, and some toasted chopped macadamia nuts to provide some crunch and a counterpoint to the brightness of the vegetables.

I found this dish to be the perfect expression of Spring. Jeremy nurtures and amplifies the pure flavors of the peas using exceptional technique and careful composition. In my opinion, Ubuntu is serving the most innovative and delightful food in the San Francisco Bay Area right now.

After enjoying the tasting menu at Ubuntu, I got a chance to talk to Jeremy and asked how he'd achieved such an intense and pure flavor in his clear pea shell consomme'. He generously explained the process, which turns out to be similar to making tomato water.

I wasn't interested in trying to replicate Jeremy's Pea & Shoots in Shell Consomme', but I decided to rework pea risotto using what I'll call a pea shell infusion.

I think Jeremy said that he blanched his pea shells. I believe this is necessary to denature the natural enzymes. Otherwise, I think the enzymes would go into overdrive after the food processor broke down the cell walls and incorporated oxygen. I didn't want to take the time to bring a pot of water to boil, so I just microwaved the peas shells in a covered bowl with some water. I'm also thinking that this minimal water approach would preserve more flavor than traditional blanching in a pot of water.



I pureed the pea shells with some water in my food processor, and transferred them to a towel lined sieve

And let the liquid drip through:



Resulting in the following.



Note that my pea shell water has a green tint compared to Jeremy's crystal clear rendition. I think this is due to my towel letting the fine sediment through. I probably would get a result like Jeremy's if I let it drip through a coffee filter, but I just didn't want to bother.

The pea shell infusion tasted wonderful - a clean, sweet vegetal elixir. I used the pea shell infusion in place of stock to create a bright, flavorful risotto. I added the blanched fresh peas and finished the dish with some shaved parmesan.

I love the contrast of the bright green peas against the white risotto and the surprise of discovering that the risotto itself tastes of peas. I think a stock-based risotto would tend to overwhelm the delicacy of the peas.

A final comment: I found it interesting that Elizabeth and Jeremy (neither of whom are vegetarian) profess similar motivations for their current work:
Elizabeth: "One of several important themes of [Kansha] is the variety and richness of a plant-based diet. Kansha is not about abstention -- doing without meat, fish, poultry, eggs or dairy. Rather, it is about abundance -- of grains, legumes, roots, shoots, leafy plants (aquatic and terrestrial), shrubs, herbs, berries, seeds, tree fruits and nuts. Further, kansha is about the clever and respectful transformation of natural resources into nourishing food."

Jeremy: "Celebrating the natural bounty of the earth, Ubuntu is less about a philosophy of no meat and instead a celebration of our own biodynamic gardens, what shows up at the door and relationships with the local farms in Napa. Chef Jeremy Fox looks forward to offering vegetable-inspired meals and supporting the local community while simultaneously presenting extraordinary, innovative cuisine to be enjoyed by both omnivores and herbivores.

The Dirty Bird

A Review of Le Pigeon Restaurant - Portland, OR




Le Pigeon has a point of view. When I visited the restaurant in May, the "foie gras profiteroles" on the dessert menu board immediately caught my attention. I read this as a challenge from the chef, Gabriel Rucker, and decided that I needed to take him up on his dare.

I had arrived at the restaurant early since I didn't have a reservation. The crew of tattooed chefs and their ambitious food take center stage at Le Pigeon. Seating is on bar stools around the open kitchen or at a few communal tables. Gabriel was sitting at the bar working out the menu with the other chefs when I came in, although he didn't stay for the service.

My meal started with a salad of arugula, potatoes, and beef tongue. There were a lot of big flavors happening on the chipped thrift store plate that the chef, whom Gabriel addressed as Bones, handed directly to me as I sat at the kitchen bar. Braising brought out livery, organ meat flavors in the tongue, which played off the peppery arugula, sharp and piquant pickled red onions, tender potatoes, and bright lemon zest. The salad was pushed further with an aggressive dressing of sherry vinegar and coarse sea salt.

For my entree I chose the pan-seared halibut served on asparagus and peas, generously napped with Oregon white truffle butter and finished with sherry vinegar and a generous amount of sea salt. As with the salad, the halibut dish was about big flavors balanced with assertive acid and salt.

And the foie gras profiteroles. Bones explained to me that the foie gras ice cream was made by folding melted-down foie gras and white port into a custard base. The foie gras ice cream was served in three freshly baked choux shells, drizzled with a burnt caramel sauce, grated dark chocolate, and sea salt. The salt registers first, followed by the burnt caramel, the dark chocolate, and the chew of the pastry shell. Next, the fruitiness of the white port comes into focus followed by the unctious foie gras. Wow. The most ambitious dessert I've ever had. Wonderful.

Le Pigeon has a point of view. Don't expect subtlety or crowd-pleasing, common denominator cooking. But if you're up for an adventure, Gabriel Rucker and his crew challenge Le Pigeon diners with exhilarating, no-holds-barred cooking.

http://www.lepigeon.com/