Tzanet

I was shopping at Costco at Marché Centrale when I noticed a "Restaurant Equipment Supply" store across the way: a modest storefront. Tzanet turned out to be this awesome kitchen supply place . . . (I was on the lookout for one of those prep stations you see on cooking shows or at restaurants . . . except I had no idea what they're called. Storage bins? Prep trays? Ingredient inserts?)

At first I wanted the metal ones, but they had no frame for the containers. Finally I got a plastic one . . . very, very nice. And only around $30! It's meant for a bar but it will sure make my pizza-making life easier.



And being there was like being in a candy store. So many gadgets and accoutrements. Helpful, funny staff. I couldn't get out of there for less than $80 and I was being shooed out the door because it was after five.

Next time I'm going to be arriving just after five in the morning.

An Excellent Dinner

On Thursday night I went to a very popular Westmount bistro (it’s the fly-in-the-soup conundrum: If I mention the name everyone will want one) and chef Jeremy delivered a masterful meal as promised. My dining partner had shouted down my suggestion that I meet with Jeremy beforehand and discuss menu choices. “Let it be a surprise — let him make what he wants to make.”

And I’m glad I did. The evening is a bit of a blur because Chandra at the bar was mixing killer Jasontinis (the usual bartender is Jason and he makes the best martini I’ve ever had; Chandra did a damn good imitation of them) but I was definitely surprised and delighted with what came out of the kitchen.

The first course was incredible. Since there was no menu and no one came out to explain exactly what was what I can only describe what I thought it was: an egg poached or broiled inside a slice of perfectly toasted bread, drizzled with olive oil and sprinkled lavishly with black truffles. My shaky photo doesn’t even come close to giving it justice.



Next came a single, huge prawn wrapped in excellent bacon, grilled or broiled (hey, I can do that. And I will.)



And then an amazing, tiny vealburger skewered with a Kalamata olive. Delectable. Why couldn't I have thought of that?







And then the main course . . . Chilean Sea Bass done . . . well, I have no idea how it was done. I don’t as a rule like cooked fish but this was creamy, flaky and not fishy at all.

The dessert was some kind of chocolate, but throughout dinner Marc the waiter was plying us with wines by the glass (“Is this the kind you like? Do you want a bottle of it? No? Wait, I’ll get you another kind to try.”) and it’s all a bit fuzzy.

All in all it came to about $200 but it was the best $200 I’ve ever spent.

Westmount. Bistro. You know where it is. Thanks, Jeremy, Marc, Chandra, Jason (in spirit) and Tom the happy kitchen fixer-upper.

See you again thirty days from now for another round . . .

$200? Or $2,000?

While I was in Bordeaux earlier this year, for a month, I was working on a cookbook. I really wanted it to work. I was shopping around for publishers. I wanted to call it "The Saturday Cookbook", owing to my penchant for going shopping Saturday mornings and cooking all afternoon while watching cooking shows on PBS.

So I bought some cookbooks in Bordeaux and translated some of the more intriguing recipes on to my laptop. I made a couple of them (the Magret de canard au miel was the best meal I have ever made, bar none) and I had a prototype, with maybe a hundred recipes, all designed and laid out in Adobe InDesign, all on my laptop.

Yes, you guessed correctly.

I came back to Montreal and one day was jamming on my guitar to some blues being pumped out from my laptop. The sound was stuttering, for some reason. So I went and did the mature thing: I gave it a thump.

It stopped working. The fellow who replaced the hard drive said he'd done all he could do to get back the data; even frozen the damn thing in the freezer to see if it might shake something loose.

No go.

So I brought it in, finally, to Vital Data to see if Vitaly can bring back my month's worth of cookbook.

But he wasn't encouraging. "The estimate is free but it will cost you a minimum of $200 and a maximum of $2,000 . . ."

I told him to just get me the recipe for the Magret de canard au miel.

All the rest is just gravy.

Preferences

What would you do if you had a personal chef who was going to prepare your fantasy meal for you and a friend/partner?

No matter if you also cook. I mean, stuff you can’t or ordinarily wouldn’t cook in a home kitchen because it’s too difficult (wood-fired anything or charcoal-broiled anything) or something incredibly delicate, like things in phyllo or puff-pastry. Stuff that would take you 60 dirty dishes, a sous-chef and a garde manger to sort out.

Well, that prospect has recently been presented to me. I recently met the chef of an unnameable bistro in town and I’m saving $10 a day for an as-yet-unnamed occasion with someone I like, total $300, max, not including the wine/champagne/aperitifs etc. which we will pick ourselves.

But having met with the guy, an affable dude from British Columbia, last night, it appears only sane to EXCLUDE things from the menu and to let him go wild.

Don’t you think? He has at his disposal an industrial kitchen and all the tools. I don’t. No matter what I hoped to produce, I could never enter the scope of his realm, right?

So what remains in what I would like him to make for the $300?

I guess we have to start with what I DON’T want him to make, and the list is long. Over the past years, it’s really interesting to find out what so-called foodies/vegetarians/meatarians/blah-blah-blah airians won’t eat. Trust me, if you’re a fucking lacto-ovo-peso-begetarian carnivore I’ll bet there is still SOMETHING that makes your skin go numb.

So here is my embarrassment list. No, don’t try to educate me on the virtues of asparagus. Or zucchini. Yeah. I’ve eaten both and decided, well, there are MANY MORE FOODS in the world that I prefer.

Yeah, I’d like to see your “Foodie List of Shame”. I’m not a fucking foodie and I don’t pretend to be one on TV, even.

So here it is:

Don’t feed me:

Cooked fish (I love sushi, and shrimp is seafood)
Asparagus (never had it but would only trust in the most capable hands)
Artichokes (look disgusting)
Sweet potatoes (potatoes were made without sugar for a reason)
Squash of any kind (mealy, squishy, orange, overcooked, tasteless, need I go on?)
Eggplant (I can survive it if it’s done in some sort of tapenade, but it MUST BE DISGUISED)
Turnips (forget it)
Cardoons/ tofu yada yada, any bizarre vegetables popular with chefs seeking attention, like broccoli rabe, forget it
Strange meats, ie. not the normal version. No heart, kidneys, no fucking liver or derivatives
No lamb. Lamb in my experience is gamy and tough and just not worth the killing of a baby sheep. Let it live instead and permeate my insomnia.

Hmm. Many more, but my cup doth leak.

What would I tell said chef I like?

ON THE LIST
Shrimp
Beef
Chicken
Veal (depends)
Pork (depends)
Most veggies (not weird ones)
Mushrooms (all)
Creamy
SPICY
RICE
PASTA
GARLIC (Literally no limit)
ONIONS (Literally no limit)

More, but you?

Nick's Garlic Shrimp Linguine

Bought some fresh linguine at Capitol at Jean-Talon market the other day, so I decided to make some garlic shrimp. At my local Metro they now have a frozen self-serve case where you can choose various-sized shrimp at $9.99 a pound so I’m always tempted. I’m basically on a shrimp kick as a leftover from my vegetabledom.

I improvised this recipe, so you’ll probably want to as well.

Garlic Shrimp Linguine



Ingredients
12-13 large raw shrimp, peeled (tails off)
4-5 large shallots, finely chopped
6-7 large cloves garlic, finely minced
1/2 lb. fresh Shiitake mushrooms, cleaned, stems removed, and sliced
1 lb. fresh linguine pasta
2/3 cup dry white wine
Olive oil
Compound herb butter
1 cup grated Pecorino Romano cheese
1 cup grated Parmigiano Reggiano cheese
Red pepper flakes
Italian parsley
Basil
Salt and sugar for brining shrimp

Method
About thirty minutes before starting to cook, brine frozen shrimp in lukewarm water with about 1/3 cup of salt (dissolved) and about 1/4 cup caster sugar (dissolved).

Cook pasta until a hair short of al dente, about 4-5 minutes. Do not overcook! The pasta will cook further with the other ingredients.

In a large non-stick skillet, heat about three tablespoons olive oil on medium heat until shimmering. Sauté mushrooms until they have lost their water, about five minutes. Remove and set aside.

Add about two tablespoons herb butter and sauté shallots for about five minutes; add garlic and sauté three minutes more.

Remove and add to bowl with mushrooms.

Rinse shrimp under cold running water, pat dry.

Add two more tablespoons herb butter to pan and one teaspoon pepper flakes. Add shrimp and sauté for about two minutes on one side and three minutes on the other. Remove and place with shallot-mushroom mixture.

Add wine to pan. Cook until vaguely syrupy, about 8-10 minutes. Add the cooked pasta, the shallot-mushroom-shrimp mixture, and the two cheeses. Chop about half a cup each of the basil and parsley. On medium-heat, mix all ingredients thoroughly; serve immediately on warmed plates. Drink a nice dry Sauvignon Blanc or Pinot Grigio.

How Much Would I Charge?

I was just looking at Leméac's menu and then started wondering: how much would I charge for what I cook in my own kitchen?

I haven't done the math on cost/overhead ratios, but here's what I probably would charge if I had my restaurant:

Nickburger (fresh-ground premium beef with Nick's special sauce: Japanese mayonnaise, garlic, ketchup, gherkins, white vinegar, Dijon) on an artisanal onion roll with 5-year-old cheddar cheese, red onion from a family plot in Japan, oven-fried Russett potatoes with drizzle of truffle oil: $18.95.

Garlic Shrimp with Tomato Linguine (12 large shrimp, tail on, sautéed in garlic from family plot in Japan, premium olive oil, shallots, Japanese sea salt and five-grain peppercorns, with homemade garlic linguine in a tomato/crême-fraiche sauce): $21.95

Magret de Canard au Miel (artisanal duck breast brined and briefly marinated in Chardonnay and garlic, then pan-fried in its own confit and garnished with a dijon honey-mustard sauce, served with parsley steamed rice) $22.85.

Hmm . . . am I way off-base? I'll make it for you guys any time (free of excess charges, of course. i.e. bring your own wine . . .

One Step Closer

Went to a place on Sherbrooke called Maison India the other night. It's really strange, but there's another Indian restaurant two doors down and it's not far from Ganges, either. Where's the logic in having one Indian restaurant two doors down from another? Oh, I see, we have dinner at one and then walk over for some gulab jamun and chai at the other.

Anyway, we arrived at ten and they close at 10:30 so they weren't too happy to see us. In fact, we were the only ones in the place and I bet they were hoping to go home early.

No such luck. But they weren't surly at all, and before we even sat down we had ordered; I know Montreal Indian menus like the back of my hand. My choice, however, may have been a bit hasty: without thinking I ordered the Bangalore Phal chicken. When it arrived with the very perfect rice (more on that later) I was to regret it — but only for a moment.

However, I hadn't had any chicken in at least 6 months and had not eaten anything as hot for at least a year, so the combination was initially quite disturbing; but soon I was munching away happily. I invited my companion to dip some naan in my sauce and she did and there was a howl that brought a waiter hurrying over to see what was wrong . . . and I think they ran out of water that night.

But I digress.

They give you some amazing carrot pickle and papads to start your meal and I was dying to find out how they made the pickle, so I went to go ask chef but was barred at the entrance to the kitchen (what did they expect me to find, I wonder?) and Chef came out and told me what was in it — not how much of each, but basically all the ingredients (tamarind, cumin, turmeric, chile powder, vinegar, oil, sugar and salt) and I was able to recreate it last night pretty damn well if I say so myself, except without that amazing Benriner turning slicer that they obviously used and that I'm waiting on eBay for.

And then there was the rice . . . perfect, fluffy, every grain separate . . . can you say "rice steamer?"

I've wrestled with basmati rice ever since I can remember, and no matter what I do it comes out too hard, too soft, too soft AND hard at the same time, but never this perfect moist fluffiness. But they denied it. "Not rice steamer," said the waiter.

Oh yeah? Well, last night I dragged out my old Zojirushi rice steamer and put it to the test: one cup of rice to one and two-thirds chicken broth, and guess what? Perfect, and I mean perfect steamed rice.

And just after the waiter asked us if we wanted anything else because the kitchen was closing and we said no, five minutes later my companion had the gall to call over the waiter and ask if they could make butter chicken . . . and they said yes!

All in all most definitely one of the better Indian places in the city. I'll have to go back to Mysore to compare, but basically I think I have a new Best Indian . . .

And no, the Bangalore Phal did not come back to haunt me the next day. Instead, I heated it up and ate the rest without batting an eye.

Shrimp Stroganoff

It's been a while since I posted. Japan was a disaster, as usual. I arrived in the evening after a grueling 20-or-so hour journey, ate, went to sleep, woke up the next day, went back to sleep, woke up, ate dinner, went to sleep, woke up, packed my bag, headed for the airport and did another 20-hour journey. The only consolation was that I was in First Class from Japan to Vancouver, but the hitch was that I slept the whole time.

Today will be a week since I've been back and it's truly the first day I feel human again (it always takes about a week).

But the other day I did have the pleasure of making my new favorite dish, Shrimp Stroganoff. It was only the second time I've made it (the first was for Shelley of montrealfood.com and was a grand success) but this time was excellent as well. If you really want to blow away your friends or family you will make this! The kicker is that it's really easy. But do not substitute sour cream for crême-fraiche.

Nick's Version of Shrimp Stroganoff


Ingredients:
1 1/2 pound frozen large raw shrimp (15/21), peeled and deveined (easy-peel is fine)
4-5 large shallots, diced finely, to equal about a cup
9-10 cloves garlic, minced, divided
1 tablespoon red pepper flakes
1 tablespoon Cajun seasoning (available from various spice manufacturers)
4 cups or more shiitake and pleurot mushrooms, stems removed, washed and sliced
Olive oil, as indicated in method
Approximately 1 1/4 cup chicken broth, divided
Approximately 1/2 cup dry white wine
Approximately 1 cup crême fraiche
1 tablespoon cornstarch
Handful chopped Italian parsley
Handful chopped fresh dill
Salt and pepper to taste

Method
Brine the shrimp. In a microwave-safe container, combine about four tablespoons sea salt and two tablespoons sugar with half a cup of water. Heat in microwave until almost boiling. Stir to dissolve salt and sugar. Pour into bowl, add frozen shrimp.and warm water to cover. When thoroughly thawed, remove shells as necessary (tails as well), rinse and drain.

In large nonstick sauté pan, add about three tablespoons olive oil. Heat on medium until shimmering. Add shallots and sauté until translucent, about three minutes, then add about half the garlic. Sauté further about two minutes, then remove and set aside. In same pan, add 2 tablespoons olive oil, remaining garlic, Cajun seasoning and red pepper flakes. Sauté one minute, then add shrimp. Spread evenly throughout the pan. Cook one minute on one side, then turn shrimp with tongs. After a further 2 or so minutes, or until pink, remove shrimp and set aside.

Add mushroom slices to pan and sauté until mushrooms have shrunken by half. Remove to bowl with shallots. Add wine and 1 cup chicken broth to pan. Cook down until reduced by half — approximately 8-10 minutes.

In separate container, mix crême fraiche with remaining chicken broth and cornstarch and combine thoroughly. When mushrooms are done, add all remaining ingredients except shrimp, parsley and dill and stir constantly until sauce coats back of a spoon.

Reduce heat to minimum; add shrimp, parsley and dill and combine well. Heat through, about three minutes. Serve immediately over white rice. Garnish with parsley.