Diners at Restaurant Guy Savoy in Las Vegas can opt to follow this "Colours of Caviar" appetizer verrine with many more courses of layered delights contained in little glasses and bowls.
	Verrines - Deconstruction in a glass By Jen L. Karetnick
		Last year, my wanderlustful friend Sara, whose freedom of spirit is enviable, rented her Oregon house to an Australian family and took off for France with her husband and son. Those she left behind have since lived vicariously via her appetite-provoking correspondence. "We spent a most special day at the home of a family who is interested in trading houses with us," she e-mailed me some months ago. "Patricia picked us up in Paris and escorted us through Rambouillet, a large forest 35 minutes west of the city. Their beautiful house was hidden away on 30 acres abutting the national forest. Before dinner, a bottle of Bordeaux was opened (bien sûr), and we each were served what looked like three tiny parfaits with equally tiny spoons. 'It is the newest thing,' Patricia explained. 'Verrines!'" Derived from the word verre, meaning glass, verrines are layered dishes served as small, semi-solid cordials. Americans would, indeed, call them parfaits; the English might label them miniature trifles. Prepared hot, warm or cold, as a savory precursor to a meal or as a dessert, a verrine's only real rule seems to be that its layers remain visibly and beautifully distinct. Sara was quite taken with her hostess's verrines. "Such amazing little packages!" she wrote. "Each was a different color, pattern and flavor, alternating layers of creamy, chewy, crunchy, intense, bland, sweet and salty. Patricia said the 'trendy' serve entire dinners of nothing but verrines." Of course, my own culinary curiosity was immediately engaged. Are the French finally ready to rival the Spanish dominance in the kitchen of late? Is there a new gastro-fad on the horizon à la Ferran Adrià's molecular manipulations? As a matter of fact, very little digging revealed that verrines are displayed in the best pastry shop windows of Paris, starting with that of Pierre Hermé, who names them things like "Emotion" and "Sensation" and changes them seasonally. Verrines also adorn the menus of the city's finest eponymous restaurants to its chicest bistros and cafés - from the "Tomat-O-Lobster" at Alain Ducasse's Spoon Paris to those creations by chef José Maréchal at Café Noir, which are captured in one of the most exhaustive books to date on the subject, called simply Verrines. Indeed, French publishing is outdoing itself on these little glasses that could. Gorgeous glossy cookbooks, such as Verres Gourmands by Benoît Molin and Divines Verrines by Maya Barrakat Nuq, abound, instructing the home cook on how to entertain both casually and elegantly with these charming concoctions. And verrines have garnered so much popularity that "it has had a snowball effect, where the more creative chefs started it and then everybody copied," notes Béatrice Peltre, a food photographer, stylist, writer and recipe developer who was born in France but is based in Boston. "It has come to the point that my French friends are almost tired of them." Yet, she continues, "We do eat verrines at home. Whenever I go back to my family in northeastern France, near Germany, we have one as an amuse-bouche with a glass of [Alsatian] wine. They are not difficult to make - very basic dishes can be reworked into verrines - and you don't have to sit at the table to eat them. It is a nice way to entertain, and it is very social." Peltre's crab and avocado verrine - which without its protective casing might be shaped horizontally on the plate and called a terrine - is just one example of such an architectural restructuring. It is no more difficult to put together, however, than a composed salad. But attempt to find verrines on written menus in most upscale French restaurants this side of the Atlantic, or locate tomes - such as Mini Verres, Maxi Délices by Fédéric Berqué or Le Meilleur des Verrines by Virginie Boudsocq - on Amazon.com (at least the American version), and your cute little snifter will come up half-empty. While not exactly lost in the translation, verrines are still in the process of crossing the pond. "They are something that [American] chefs know about, but they are not necessarily keen to take on the risk," Peltre says. Some who have, in fact, have seen negative results. When Orange County, California, restaurateur and caterer Jason Kordas, who "loves verrines," offered them as complements to his menus for weddings and corporate functions, "no one out here got it," he says. So he has never yet served any of his expressly created "luxury in a glass" items like roasted tomato and fresh mozzarella with layered fresh basil and basil foam, or mushroom flan with layered wild mushrooms and fingerling potatoes topped with mushroom foam. Even in arguably foodie-oriented San Francisco, One Market Restaurant pastry chef Patti Dellamonica-Bauler, who fell for verrines when studying with Valhrona in Cannes, says, "Most people honestly don't know a verrine from a hole in the ground. Americans tend to call it or anything layered like it a parfait. But in France, a parfait is what we call a sundae." To Dellamonica-Bauler, however, it's all semantics. "Words get muddied, based on region - a cobbler crisp becomes a Brown Betty, that sort of thing. So here, where we're founded on American regional cuisine, I make verrines, but I'll call them parfaits if that's what makes sense to the guest." It's how she makes her desserts that defines them in their truest sense as verrines, whether her customers know it or not: "It's partly that the dessert, which is always a take-off on an American-inspired one, such as banana cream pie, is layered in the glass, and partly that it encompasses all the contrasting things - there's crunchy, sweet-tart, soft and cake-like, and frozen elements, all incorporated together." For the home pastry buff, Dellamonica-Bauler advises to "play with whatever sounds fun - macadamia streusel, chocolate with coffee mascarpone" but to definitely take advantage of fresh harvests, and don't neglect the after-dinner drink to go with the finished product. "Berry season is always the best because the plethora of berries lends itself perfectly to verrines. Then you could easily serve a berry verrine with an orange Muscat or a chocolate-based verrine with Framboise. And [a demi-sec] Champagne would be lovely with a strawberry one, especially if the strawberries were tossed with some Champagne and simple syrup first." Paris-ophile Maggie Leung, pastry chef at the Lark Creek Inn, located in Larkspur, California, also finds her verrines to be successful when she doesn't label them as such, because "people don't know what they are. But they love them anyway. The dessert takes them back, makes them feel like they are at an English wedding or on a tropical island." Serving her signature layers of vanilla bean panna cotta, Champagne gelée, passion fruit caramel, tropical fruit compote, candied kumquats and topping of pomegranate seeds (which she switches out with sugared red currants, according to season) in a martini glass, Leung suggests that home cooks utilize medium-size water glasses. "You want something conducive to seeing the layers of flavor, and wide enough to get a spoon in. Basically, you want easy access. And nothing top-heavy, like a tall wine glass." Instead, she recommends filling a wine glass with a Riesling or even an ice wine - "anything with tropical notes," she says. The epicure who makes a pilgrimage to The Greenbrier in West Virginia could find palatable escapism, such as the verrine of fromage blanc with strawberry lime confit and Chartreuse gelée, that's served in the resort's new restaurant Hemisphere, that much easier to swallow. But bons vivants who really want to discover savory verrines should look to those chefs who, as Peltre puts it, "have a closer connection to France. These are the ones who will really start the trend in the U.S." At Citronelle in Washington, D.C., for example, Michel Richard is known for his custom amuse-bouche verrine of lobster and cucumber aspic. Yet he also formally lists a starter on his menus at both Citronelle and his new restaurant in Los Angeles, Citrus at Social Hollywood, that is a variation on the theme: "Lobster Begula," butter-poached lobster, a poached egg and squid ink-soaked Israeli pearl couscous, layered in a caviar tin. Domestic toques can reshape this latter dish in a cordial glass of their choice to equally stunning effect. Paired with a flute of Krug Grande Cuvée , it's a sterling opener to any affair. If an occasion calls for actual fish eggs (as opposed to their facsimile), however, head to Restaurant Guy Savoy at Caesar's Palace in Las Vegas. At this two-Michelin-star establishment, the first American outpost for the famed French chef, diners can order Guy Savoy's signature "Colours of Caviar" verrine. This dish comprises layers of caviar cream, caviar vinaigrette and haricot vert purée with black paddlefish caviar topped with hot sabayon and golden Iranian caviar. General manager Franck Savoy, Guy's son, explains, "The design is just as important as the flavors. My dad loves to put together different layers and textures of flavors and make all the senses work, not just one or two." Chef Damian Dulas, who helms the Las Vegas kitchen, agrees. "It is very important for the guests to see all the layers. But also to dip deeply with the spoon and get all the layers together." This technique is especially imperative, Dulas advises, for a second verrine for which the restaurant is justly renowned: an artichoke and black truffle soup, served in a handm ade glass bowl-within-a-bowl, and layered with brioche (spread with truffle butter), mushrooms, crisp curls of black truffles and a ruffle of Parmesan shavings. Though obviously rich, the artichoke-truffle verrine is particularly easy to pair with wine because of its consistent profile, notes sommelier Blake Gilbert. "We tend to pour the lighter styles of red Burgundy to match the earthiness; the saltiness of the Parmesan is perfect for it. But that dish is so versatile it can also go with a white Burgundy." Like a good story, a working verrine has a viable theme running through it, and the wine should speak to that. But it is also possible to hold a themed verrine dinner, where every course is nestled into a cordial glass or hand-blown bowl or tiny, uncapped jar, each accompanied by its own wrought silver utensil. No one has yet requested this option at Restaurant Guy Savoy in Las Vegas, but, "Of course, it can be done," Franck Savoy says. "We can do everything." It's precisely this attitude that will remove the verrine from transit and plant it firmly in America's fertile culinary soil. Features Editor Jen L. Karetnick is also the restaurant critic for MIAMI Magazine, the author of the poetry collection Eve and After and the co-author of Born-Again Vintage, both slated for publication later this year. Crab and Avocado Verrine From Béatrice Peltre This recipe was created especially for the Boston Globe and can be found on its Web site. Please visit: http://www.boston.com/ae/food/articles/2007/08/08/crab_and_avocado_verrine Lobster Begula Pasta From Happy in the Kitchen by Michel Richard of Citronelle For the Lobster: One 1 1/2-pound lobster (about 8 ounces shelled) Bring a large pot of water to a boil. Fill a large bowl with ice water. Add lobster to boiling water, reduce heat and simmer for 5 minutes. Remove lobster from pot and place in ice water until cold. Remove lobster and drain well. Working over a bowl, break lobster apart and reserve any juices. Remove meat from tail and claws and reserve. Discard body, or reserve for stock or another use. Cut lobster meat into 3/4" pieces. You should have about 1 cup meat and about 1/2 cup of juices. Place meat in a small bowl and strain juices through a fine-mesh strainer over it. (The lobster can be covered and refrigerated for up to 1 day.) For the Poached Eggs: 1/4 cup white vinegar 4 large eggs Fine sea salt Fill a large saucepan with at least 5 inches of water and bring to a boil. Fill a medium bowl with ice water. Add vinegar to the boiling water. Crack an egg into a small bowl, reduce heat to a simmer, and move pan halfway off heat. Carefully pour egg into the simmering portion of the water, and after 5 seconds, with the help of a large slotted spoon, push egg white together around the yolk and move egg to opposite (nonsimmering) side of the pan. Cook for 2 to 3 minutes, or until white is set but yolk is still runny. With slotted spoon, remove egg from water and place in ice water. Repeat with remaining 3 eggs. (The eggs can be held in ice water in refrigerator for several hours.) For the Begula Pasta: 2 tablespoons unsalted butter, divided 1/3 cup diced (1/4") yellow onion 1 1/2 cups chicken stock 3/4 cup Israeli couscous 2 tablespoons dry white wine Fine sea salt and freshly ground black pepper 2 teaspoons squid ink Melt 1 tablespoon butter in a medium sauté pan over medium heat. Add onion and sauté for about 3 to 5 minutes, until translucent. In a small saucepan, bring the stock to a boil. Reduce heat and keep the stock at a simmer. Add couscous to onions and cook for 2 to 3 minutes, stirring constantly, until lightly golden. Pour in white wine and stir until the liquid is almost gone. The couscous may seem a bit pasty. Pour in 1/2 cup of the stock, and cook, stirring often, until the liquid is almost evaporated, 1 to 2 minutes; do not let pasta dry out. Season with salt and pepper. Add another cup stock and cook for 2 to 3 minutes, or until the liquid is almost gone. Add 1/2 cup stock and cook until the liquid is almost gone and the couscous is glazed, about 2 minutes. The texture of the couscous should resemble rice - not too soft, but a bit softer than al dente. If it has too much bite, add the remaining 1/4 cup stock and cook until glazed. Stir in squid ink to evenly coat and color couscous. Stir in remaining tablespoon of butter. Remove from heat and season to taste with salt. Keep in a warm place on top of stove. For the Hollandaise: Reserved lobster liquid (from above) 5 tablespoons unsalted butter, cut into small pieces 1 large egg yolk, at room temperature 2 teaspoons fresh lemon juice 1 tablespoon simmering water Fine sea salt to taste Cayenne pepper to taste Pour lobster liquid from lobster into a small saucepan, bring to a boil over medium heat, and reduce to 2 to 3 tablespoons. Remove from heat and set aside. Bring water to a boil in the bottom of a double boiler. Reheat reduced lobster liquid and stir in butter until melted, then keep warm, without simmering. In the top of the double boiler, whisk together the egg yolk, lemon juice, and 2 teaspoons of the simmering water. Continue to whisk for 30 seconds. Slowly, little by little, whisk in the lobster butter. Continue to whisk for 2 to 3 minutes, or until thickened. Add the remaining teaspoon of water to slow the cooking process. Season to taste with salt and cayenne. (If you are not ready to assemble the dish, keep the sauce warm over the barely simmering water, whisking from time to time.) To Finish the Dish: Preheat the oven to 200°. Remove eggs from ice water and dry with a towel. With a knife or scissors, trim away any unruly strings of egg white. Season eggs with salt. Place each egg in a cleaned caviar tin or 6-ounce glass. Dry the lobster briefly on paper towels. Divide lobster among 4 tins, placing it to the side of the eggs. Place tins on a small baking sheet and then into oven to slowly warm lobster and eggs. Remove tins from oven and spoon Hollandaise over eggs and lobster to coat. Top with a layer of couscous that reaches the top of the tins. Using a small offset spatula, smooth the top of the couscous level with the tops of the tins to make a solid layer resembling caviar. Return tins to the baking sheet, place a damp towel over the top, and return to oven for 3 to 5 minutes until warm. Serve immediately. Serves 4 Vanilla Bean Passion Fruit Verrines From Chef Maggie Leung of Lark Creek Inn For the Vanilla Panna Cotta: 3 cups cream, divided 1/2 cup sugar 1 vanilla bean, split and scraped 2 teaspoons gelatin 2 tablespoons water Set 6 medium-size (6 ounce) glasses in the refrigerator. Place 2 cups cream, sugar and vanilla bean in a pot. Scald. Do not allow to boil. Sprinkle gelatin over water and let sit for 5 minutes. Pour some of the hot cream mixture into gelatin mixture. Stir to dissolve gelatin. Pour liquefied gelatin into the rest of the hot cream. Whisk to combine. Add the remaining cup of cold cream to the hot cream mixture. Whisk to combine. Strain into a pitcher. Pour into glasses; fill to about 2/3. Chill for at least 4 hours until set. For the Champagne Gelée: 1/2 tablespoon gelatin 1/3 cup water 1/2 cup Champagne 3/8 cup water 1/3 cup sugar 1/2 teaspoon lime juice Sprinkle gelatin over water. Put Champagne, water and sugar into pot and warm gently until the temperature of a warm bath. Add warm liquid to gelatin. Stir to combine. Add to pot. Whisk to combine. Add lime juice to pot. Strain into pitcher. Pour slowly on top of set panna cottas. Pour on top of an inverted spoon, so that you are not pouring directly onto the panna cottas. Let it set for four hours in the refrigerator. (The panna cotta and the gelée will keep in the refrigerator for four days.) For the Passion Fruit Caramel: 1/2 cup sugar 1/2 teaspoon corn syrup 1/2 cup passion fruit purée 1/2 cup orange juice 1/2 tablespoon butter Dash of salt Put sugar and corn syrup in a pot and make a wet sand. Wash down sides and cook until it becomes a light amber caramel. Add passion fruit purée and orange juice. Whisk in butter. Add salt to taste. For the Tropical Fruit Compote: 1 cup sugar 1 cup water Juice of 1/2 lime 1 ripe mango 2 kiwis 1/2 pineapple Whisk sugar and water in a pot. Bring to a boil. Add lime juice. Chill in refrigerator. Peel and dice each fruit into 1/4" cubes. Cover with lime syrup. Let sit for a few hours before using. For the Candied Kumquats: 1 cup fresh kumquats 1/2 cup sugar 1/6 cup water 1 tablespoon corn syrup Slice the ends off each kumquat, then cut into 1/8" slices. Combine kumquats, sugar, water and corn syrup in a pot. Bring to a boil. Immediately turn down heat to a simmer and cook until translucent, about 6 to 10 minutes. Remove from heat and let cool in the syrup. Keep kumquats in syrup in a sealed container in refrigerator. To Finish the Dish: Spoon a layer of passion fruit caramel over the Champagne gelée. Top with tropical fruit compote and candied kumquats. Garnish with pomegranate seeds. Serves 4 Where to buy verrine glasses: If you're traveling to France, make sure to ask your hotel concierge for boutiques that sell verrine glasses and cutlery. A decent set costs about 20 euros and is ideal for carry-on. But if you're on domestic terra firma for now, your best option is to haunt antique shops for cordial or unusual liqueur glasses, along with silverplate demitasse spoons and seafood forks. This way, you can mix-and-match styles and eras. Or use what you may already have on hand: your Riedel "O" series of wine tumblers. Not only do these stemless glasses make a beautiful presentation, they can accommodate regular-size teaspoons. - JLK

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