At Blue Duck Tavern in Washington, D.C.’s Park Hyatt, executive chef Brian McBride first poaches marrow bones in a flavored chicken stock, then seasons them with garlic, paprika and butter, and finally roasts them in a wood-burning oven.
Fat & HappyBy Carole KotkinUnctuous cheese, butter and foie gras are among the pillars of French cuisine, yet from an American viewpoint they are chock-full of dietary sins. Somehow, though, the French remain relatively svelte, particularly the women. Mireille Guiliano, author of the bestselling book French Women Don't Get Fat, reports that her country's femmes allot themselves smaller portions than do their American counterparts, take longer to eat, walk more and, perhaps most important, dine for pleasure instead of to fill an emotional void.
"I think most cultures, especially the French, have a positive relationship with their food and this carries through to fat," agrees Jennifer McLagan, author of the recently released cookbook called Fat - An Appreciation of a Misunderstood Ingredient. "But best of all, fat - with its big, round molecules - tastes good, it feels good in your mouth, on your tongue and it carries flavors. They are actually doing studies at the University of Dijon in Burgundy to prove that fat is a sixth sense."
Fat, it turns out, has been improperly maligned, not only when it comes to our weight, but to our health in general. In her book, McLagan writes, "People now realize that the huge increase in obesity and diabetes began when people started reducing the animal fats in their diet. They discovered it didn't make us any healthier." She notes, of course, that some fats are more preferable than others. "The body needs fat and it's better to put good fat from organic, naturally raised animals in our mouth[s] than highly processed fats. We should celebrate fat, cook with it, eat it and enjoy it without guilt."
I admit, I love fat: butter spread on just about anything; roasted bone marrow dug out with a spoon made especially for that purpose; lardo melting on my tongue; the crackling skin of roast suckling pig pulled from the slick meat and savored separately. Used as an ingredient, fat gives fried foods a crisp crust and baked goods a tender crumb. Like many cooks, I find fat invaluable in the kitchen and irresistible on the plate, and have never considered doing without it.
I am so enamored of it, in fact, that it's hard to believe that Guiliano's lifestyle observations could apply to me. More apt, perhaps, is 19th-century gastronome Jean-Anthelme Brillat-Savarin's pronouncement: "Every thin woman wants to grow plump." Still, last spring, while visiting the vineyards and châteaux of Bordeaux, I decided to test the theory that one can consume fat à la Parisienne in moderation, and perhaps go home with just a little less personal baggage - the kind that sits around the waist and thighs.
Challenges arose almost from the moment I stepped across the threshold at Bordeaux's celebrated La Tupina restaurant. Its vast and welcoming entrance fireplace houses an ancient spit festooned with slowly browning chickens. Stationed nearby is a deep, enameled cast-iron casserole crowded with peeled potatoes ready to be hand-cut and deep-fried in a pot of sizzling goose fat. By the time I was seated and presented with pâté de foie gras for my grilled bread, then a frisée salad studded with luscious lardons (bacon chunks) and topped with a runny, poached egg, portion control was out of the question. Once the juicy birds and frites arrived, my palate was primed to finish every fantastic morsel.
In Bordeaux, the chickens, roasted entirely within their delicious, self-basting fat, are simply irresistible. Back home, chefs are setting similar epicurean traps for their patrons, but with suckling pigs instead of poultry. No one does this better than chef Daniel Humm at Eleven Madison Park in Manhattan. Humm "confits" whole, Pennsylvania-grown suckling pig in duck fat for twelve hours, pulls the meat and the skin from the bone, and then presses the meat on top of the skin; it's then cooled, cut into serving-size pieces and seared on the skin side until golden-brown. The moist, tender pork is plated with cippollini onions and a dash of freshly made plum chutney. "This trend of cooking slowly in fat goes back to our roots and to a time of robust, rustic flavors and heartier food," Humm notes. "We are using all parts of the animal - including the fatty parts."
To that end, pork belly (bacon in its uncured state, and the fattiest part of the mature hog with its thick stripes of pure white marbling and rosy meat), which is also in Humm's repertoire, is appearing on menus at Restaurant Daniel and WD-50 in Manhattan, Sra Martinez in Miami and Rover's in Seattle, to name a few. "There is a decadence and richness to pork belly that people just love. I find spring vegetables a great foil to the full flavors of pork belly - young carrots and English peas lend subtlety and levity, and a crunchy, firm texture that contrasts the melt-in-your-mouth succulence of well-executed pork belly."
At Blue Duck Tavern in Washington, D.C.'s Park Hyatt, executive chef Brian McBride celebrates equally humble cuts in what he dubs "Nose to Tail" cuisine. "We buy whole animals - rabbits, chickens, pigs and nine whole cows a year - and then use the time-honored technique of honoring the product by using every bit of the animal. We don't waste anything, not even the bones." Marrow bones are poached in a flavored chicken stock, then seasoned with garlic, paprika and butter, and roasted in an oven that burns oak and apple wood. The marrow is scooped out of the bones and spread onto grilled country bread.
Marrow also shows up as a sauce for roasted beef rib-eye. "We utilize what I call 'forgotten' ingredients. Comfort food has made a huge comeback and fat fills that homey niche," explains McBride, who says he can't get enough of the "full fat flavor." He utilizes fat as a binding agent and to finish sauces. "I don't skim the fat from my stocks; I emulsify the fat back into the stock for a richer, [more] robust flavor." And, like at La Tupina, rendered bird fat - in this case, duck, which imparts a flavor that is slightly sweet along with an almost-overwhelming richness - is the medium in which he cooks his fabulous steak fries.
When thinking about pairing vintages with such unctuous fare, Eleven Madison Park wine director John Ragan advises, "It's important for wine to prime the palate for another bite. A cool-climate, high-acid German Riesling, such as 2005 Clemens Busch Spätlese Mosel is great [contrast] for the fattiness of pork."
Similarly, Diego Anea, a food-and-beverage manager at Blue Duck, pairs McBride's signature bone marrow appetizer with either the 2005 Domaine Marcel Deiss Riesling because "the acidity and freshness of this wine highlight the richness of the bone marrow," or Wienbach's 2005 Clos des Capucins Gewurztraminer because its "minerality and spiciness" flatters the dish's richness.
If baking bones and rendering fat are not in your skill set, consider the simplicity of poaching in butter. McBride prepares an ethereal halibut by slowly cooking it in clarified butter. Anea balances a 2003 Trimbach Cuvée Frederic Emile Riesling against it because its bright acidity complements the opulently prepared, firm white fish. Among others, über-chef Thomas Keller of the French Laundry poaches lobster in butter; Michael Mina of Bourbon Steak fame immerses a prime rib of beef in eight pounds of butter; and Fat author McLagan offers a refreshingly basic recipe for butter-poached scallops.
While dishes made richer by fat require bright, well-structured wines, conversely, fat's influence on an acidic or strapping young wine is almost magical. McLagan suggests, "If you open a bottle of a young red wine with a lot of tannins and serve it with fat, the fat coating your tongue will reduce those tannins and it tastes like it's been aged for five years."
Forget the idea that our bodies actually need fat to function, or that fat satisfies our cravings so that we don't binge on filler foods. Personally I don't need an excuse, but McLagan's may be the best reason of any I've heard to cook with or consume fat.
Still, you might want to follow Eleven Madison Park's chef Humm's advice. Echoing the sage wisdom dispensed in French Women Don't Get Fat, he says, "Eat fat in moderation. Kobe beef is delicious because of all the marbling, but just a mouthful is enough to make you feel satisfied."
Food Editor Carole Kotkin manages the Ocean Reef Club Cooking School in Key Largo; is a syndicated columnist for McClatchey Publishing; is co-author of Mmmmiami; and co-hosts Food & Wine Talk, which can be heard on www.south floridagourmet.com.
Bone Marrow on Country Bread
From Chef Brian McBride of Blue Duck Tavern
- 2 each marrow bones, split lengthwise
- 1 quart chicken stock
- 6 sprigs fresh thyme
- 2 bay leaves
- 1/2 loaf country bread
- 2 tablespoons olive oil
- Pimento Butter (see recipe below)
- Sea salt
Place marrow bones over low heat and gently poach until just done (about 30 minutes).
Preheat oven to 350°F. Slice bread and sprinkle olive oil over bread. Toast in oven until crispy. Set aside.
Place warm marrow bones on a pan and smother tops with Pimento Butter. Raise oven temperature to 425°F.
Roast bones in oven until butter browns. Serve with toasted country bread and sea salt.
Serves 2
For the Pimento Butter:
- 1 teaspoon cumin
- 11/2 teaspoons dried yellow mustard
- 1 teaspoon chopped thyme
- 1 teaspoon chopped oregano
- 1/2 teaspoon chopped sage
- 1/2 teaspoon chopped garlic
- 21/2 teaspoons pimento powder
- 1 pound butter
BDT Fries
From Chef Brian McBride of Blue Duck Tavern
- 4 large baking potatoes
- Frying oil
- 1 quart rendered duck fat
- Salt
- Black pepper
- 1 teaspoon chopped thyme
Place potatoes in a pot with cold water. Bring to a boil. Reduce to a simmer and cook until just soft. Carefully remove potatoes from water onto a rack and let drain until dry.
Place frying oil in a small fryer and bring up to 260°F. Place fries in oil and blanch until sealed on all sides (7 to 10 minutes). Remove from oil and allow to dry on a rack.
Remove 1 quart of oil from fryer and replace with duck fat. Set temperature to 350°F. Fry potatoes until golden brown. Remove from fat and toss with salt, pepper and thyme.
Serves 4
Butter-Poached Scallops
Reprinted with permission from
Fat: An Appreciation of a Misunderstood Ingredient, with Recipes
by Jennifer McLagan
- 12 sea scallops
- Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
- 11/3 cups unsalted butter
- A squeeze of lemon juice
The amount of water in the measuring cup is the amount of melted butter you'll need. Dice butter, place in a saucepan over medium-low heat and clip a kitchen thermometer to the side of the pan. Heat butter, stirring occasionally, until thermometer reads 185°F. Add scallops and bring temperature back to 185°F. Cook scallops, turning once, until cooked through, 2 to 4 minutes. Test by cutting one in half; it should be opaque in the center.
Using a slotted spoon, transfer scallops to warmed serving plates. Drizzle with cooking butter and a squeeze of lemon juice. Serve immediately.
Serves 4 as an appetizer
Butter Poached Halibut
From Blue Duck Tavern Executive Chef Brian McBride
- 1 pound butter, clarified
- 1/2 cup water
- 2 7-ounce halibut steaks, center cut
- Salt
- Pepper
- 1 teaspoon chopped chives
- 1 lemon, cut in half
Serves 2
Spicy Buttered Popcorn
Reprinted with permission from Fat: An Appreciation of a Misunderstood Ingredient, with Recipes
by Jennifer McLagan
- 1 cup firmly packed brown sugar
- 1/2 cup butter
- 2 tablespoons corn syrup
- 1/2 teaspoon fine sea salt
- 3 tablespoons puréed chipotle peppers in adobo sauce
- 1/2 teaspoon baking soda
Combine sugar, butter, corn syrup and salt in a saucepan and place over medium-low heat. Stir until butter and sugar melt and mixture comes to a boil. Stop stirring and boil until it reaches 250°F on a kitchen thermometer. Remove pan from heat and stir in chipotle peppers and baking soda.
Pour mixture over popcorn and stir with a spatula until popcorn is evenly coated.
Bake popcorn for 35 minutes, stirring 2 or 3 times. Let cool and store in an airtight container.
Makes 8 cups
A Perfect Bacon, Lettuce & Tomato Sandwich
Reprinted with permission from Fat: An Appreciation of a Misunderstood Ingredient, with Recipes
by Jennifer McLagan
- 2 tablespoons Bacon Mayonnaise (recipe follows)
- 2 slices of your favorite bread
- 1 lettuce leaf
- 2 or 3 slices tomato
- Freshly ground black pepper
- 3 or 4 slices cooked bacon
Makes 1 sandwich
For the Bacon Mayonnaise:
- 1 egg yolk
- 3/4 teaspoon Dijon mustard
- 1 teaspoon freshly squeezed lemon juice
- Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
- 1/2 cup liquid bacon fat
Have the bacon fat liquid, but not hot. With the machine running, gradually add bacon fat until mixture starts to stiffen and emulsify, about 2 minutes. Once it starts to emulsify, you can add the fat more quickly. If mayonnaise is too thick, just blend in 1 teaspoon of boiling water to thin it. Taste and adjust the seasoning.
Makes about 1/2 cup
- CK
