Mrs. Adams: “Malena fell down the cellar stairs!”
Virgil Adams: “Did she break any of our things?”

– from Alice Adams, 1935

Buenos Aires – Though he appeared, and often starred, in more than one hundred films during his career, Fred MacMurray is probably best known as Stephen Douglas, the patriarch of the My Three Sons family on television (and, I believe, his only television work). Of course, the show ran for twelve years on a weekly basis, which put him up there in front of us pretty regularly. Generally he was simply typecast as “the nice guy” in films, despite some of his best acting work being in other roles. This past weekend he joined our Casa SaltShaker honor roll of centenarians. My first impulse was to plan something around five different films, sort of the approach we took with Rosalind Russell, but then I recalled that in one of his early movies, Alice Adams, there was a long, involved dinner scene. It took a little to find a copy, but as soon as I watched the scene I knew it was the perfect approach to dinner. I didn’t want to recreate the dinner as it occurred in the film, because, simply, it was a comic disaster – but, there were five courses, vaguely leaning towards the French repertoire, and although not all of the dishes were detailed, there was enough there to work with. The movie, by the way, is a fun romantic comedy, and well worth finding and watching, even if just for the dinner scene.

All I knew about the soup course was that it was “too heavy for this hot weather”. We had the advantage of a cooler time of year, and I decided on a favorite “heavy” soup – a panade – a toasted bread and onion soup that is a classic. Credit goes back to online friend Pim from whom I originally got the recipe, and she got it from Paul Bocuse’s cookbook, and I’ve left well enough alone.

On to the main course which was stated as a filet (presumably mignon, though it’s never said), Brussels sprouts (over which a great fuss is made since none of the characters is quite sure what one is), and some sort of puree, presumably mashed potatoes. Originally I was going to go with a filet of lamb loin, but the quality of the lamb I found this last week was terrible. I found a couple of beautiful pork loins, rubbed them with salt and smoked paprika, and roasted them in the oven until just past medium, still juicy, but not pink. After letting the roasts rest, I sliced them, topped them with a puree of piquillo peppers and miso – have I mentioned I found a source for fresh piquillos? Remember those jars of two fire roasted piquillos for 18 pesos? I can get fresh ones for 20 pesos a kilo (around two dozen) and roast them myself! Aside the pork, a puree of smoked eggplant, and, some sauteed Brussels sprouts.

And finally, a dessert which was never identified in the movie, but looked like some sort of very soft pudding. My thoughts turned to butterscotch pudding, and from there to a pudding pie – using the cocoa crust on the bottom and chocolate ganache on top that I’ve prepared several times recently, I filled the inside with a freshly made butterscotch pudding. I would have liked a stronger butterscotch flavor to balance against the chocolate, but the pie came out nicely.

Happy 100 Fred!

“Life is a banquet, and most poor suckers are starving to death.”

– Rosalind Russell, Actress

Buenos Aires – Private dinners at Casa S are becoming all the rage. It’s fun for us, and I think a great way for people who don’t have the space or inclination to have a dinner party at home, or wherever they’re staying, to do so. No fuss, no muss. In some ways it’s easier for us as well – often a smaller group than when we’re full for a “public” dinner, generally easier to manage dietary restrictions as we can plan the menu around the group’s desires, and because it’s a (usually) cohesive group, we get to know them a little better. On the other hand, of course, they miss out on the whole “meeting new people” thing that’s made us popular on our weekend nights.

Last night we hosted a half dozen gentlemen “of a certain age” as they expressed it when they contacted me. They’re in visiting from South Africa and wanted a place to just relax, have good food, and… camp it up a bit. Following on having read about our various centenary birthday dinners, the host had suggested that it was Rosalind Russell’s 100th, though it turned out to be her 101st. No restrictions on the menu, and with no particular food related theme to Ms. R, we just played with movie quotes and such that led to ideas.

Hmmm, maybe I should have some sort of contest to see if anyone gets the movies, their quotes, and the connection to the dishes…

We paired the dish up with a new wine for our “list” – Finca Intimayu Syrah 2006 – a dark, rich, full-bodied Syrah with great spice notes and a decent amount of acidity and structure that matched up with the duck beautifully.

 Just because someone is dead does not mean they have changed!”

– Bette Davis, when it was suggested she not speak ill of the dead

Buenos Aires – I may continue on this trend of centennial birthdays, more or less – we had so much fun with Carmen Miranda’s 99th and Anna Magnani’s 100th, that I couldn’t even consider not celebrating Bette Davis’ 100th when it came around this last weekend. I wonder who’s next? Suggestions will be gratefully accepted… So I started off with a week long marathon of watching whichever of her movies I could put my hands on. A fun, if somewhat daunting task, and in the end, while I enjoyed it immensely, it didn’t give me a whole lot to work with when it came to planning a menu – I wasn’t about to go for a roast rat right out of Baby Jane, you know? A friend suggested going with “eyes” – ribeye steak… I got stuck there, with no beef in town, and not a whole lot of other eyes I wanted to consider – besides, Ms. Davis was the focus, not Ms. Carnes… I ended up just doing a bit of wordplay – most of which probably required some deep familiarity with the movies – and few of our guests had it, but at least they seemed to enjoy the food and company. So with All About Eve playing silently in the background on both television and computer screens, we settled in for what turned out not to be a bumpy night – starting off with a proper cocktail made from scotch, rum, peach juice, and a dash of fresh squeezed lime.

“I’ll admit I may have seen better days, but I’m still not to be had for the price of a cocktail, like a salted peanut.” While the bumpy night quote may be the best known from All About Eve, it’s not the best line – there are several far better ones – and this one gave me the start with the idea of a salted peanut sauce – which led to thinking about the red papaya salad that we did for the Carmen Miranda dinner. I didn’t want a direct repeat, and when I saw fresh chayote in the market (locally called papa aire, air potato), I decided on a slight twist – grilled chayote, grilled papaya, butter roasted cherry tomatoes, and purple basil for the salad. The sauce, a mix of peanuts, bonito flakes, garlic, fish sauce, red rice vinegar, and hot chilies. For one guest, allergic to peanuts, the same made with sunflower seeds in their place.

From there, we moved on to the 1938 film Jezebel, and a natural choice for a Jezebel Sauce, from the southern U.S. – my version a blend of apple and quince jellies, grated horseradish, black pepper, and mustard – sounds odd, but it’s really quite good – the traditional uses apple and pineapple jellies, though the latter isn’t available here. Usually, or at least popularly, it’s served up on crackers with some cream cheese as an hors d’oeuvre, so I decided on a savory version of my cream cheese cheesecake, and since I spotted some fresh zucchini flowers in the market, I thought I’d chop them up finely and mix them in (the idea came from the ricotta and squash blossom empanadas I made wayyyy back). The combo worked great!

From there, the famed weenie roast right out of Now, Voyager, which, of course, you all remember as the most important culinary scene in the film. For that, the chicken and yam merguez sausages that I covered in yesterday’s post.

On to the main course, and Whatever Happened to Baby Jane? – where rats and dead parrots aside, about the only thing of gastronomic interest was Davis’ constant imbibing of scotch. A simple pan roast of pork loin, topped with akusai, or Napa cabbage, that had been cooked down in a sauce of lightly browned butter, red miso, and scotch. The first night the pork got a bit overcooked and I wasn’t thrilled, it wasn’t inedible, but not where I wanted it – the second night I kept it just a touch over medium.

And, of course, we finished off with the Hush… Hush, Sweet Apple Charlotte, with one of my favorite apple desserts, the “Guest at the Doorstep” Apple Charlotte – I’ve made it for one other dinner in the past, though this time I made it in individual ramekins rather than a big one and slicing it.

We definitely needed some more Bette Davis aficionados at the dinners – there was no one quoting lines or remembering movie scenes – but, such is life. I hope Bette appreciated our efforts, wherever she is.

 Please don’t retouch my wrinkles. It took me so long to earn them.”

– Anna Magnani, actress

Buenos Aires – You may have noticed that recently our Casa S themes have been getting more and more offbeat – moving away from various Republic Days and Independence Days and such. It’s only semi-intentional – part of the problem is that as we’ve cycled through a second year, the weekends often fall only one day shifted from last year, and sometimes it seems that the only “major” events that happened on a given weekend are the same ones I considered last year. Sometimes. And part of it is just that it seems that an odd event just catches my eye instead of a holiday, or, a particular birthday. Recently we celebrated Carmen Miranda’s 99th birthday with a dinner that garnered great response – enough so that we ended up adding in a third day – and so how could I resist when I spotted that this last weekend was Anna Magnani’s 100th birthday (she, like Carmen, is no longer with us, having passed on in 1973 at the age of 65). If you don’t know Anna Magnani’s work, you should – she was an Italian actress, born in Rome, who played these great, gritty parts, and even won an Academy Award, Golden Globe, and New York Film Critics Circle award for her lead performance in The Rose Tattoo, where she starred in tandem with Burt Lancaster. My favorite of her films, at least those I’ve seen, is Mamma Roma. Were Anna with us today, I don’t know that she would have opted for Roman trattoria cuisine to celebrate her centenary, but she’s not, and I did.

An Insalata Romana led off the evening – it may not be exactly traditional, nor trattoria based in its origin – actually in a way, none of this is – a true, traditional trattoria is a low budget, family restaurants where food is served primarily for take-out, or, if not taken-out, served up very casually, and family style, often at communal tables. These days trattorias in Rome are more like a French bistro, offering individual tables, menus, waiter service… things change. The Insalata Romana might also be known as a tricolore salad at some spots, given its base of arugula, radicchio, and endive – green, red, and white, for the Italian flag. Beyond that base, one can do a wide variety of things, and I chose to add a scattering of fresh figs, some crumbled blue cheese (local roquefort I’m afraid, no imported gorgonzola available here, not even domestic, strangely, given the Italian background of so many people here), and some toasted sunflower seeds for crunch. The dressing, loosely based on a cæsar – egg yolk, garlic, olive oil, balsamic vinegar, grated parmesan, and crushed anchovies. Traditional or not, it was a hit. Wine: Callia Extra Brut 2007, a sparkling blend of Pinot Grigio and Chardonnay – nice and crisp and light, great combination with the salad.

I would never let my Roman friends here me say it, but let’s face it, Stracciatella is simply proof that Marco Polo brought back more than pasta from China, he brought back egg-drop soup. I’ve made stracciatella before for dinners here, this time I decided to go with a darker, “brown chicken stock” instead of my usual “white chicken stock” (another post one of these days on the differences in how to make them… I hope someone is taking notes to remind me of all these things I’ve promised to get around to) – actually, that’s strangely not true – I made it once for these dinners with lamb stock and once with duck stock – but you’ll just have to take my word for it that when I make it for myself at home it’s usually white, or light, chicken stock. Into the boiling stock I whisked a mixture of 6 eggs, 6 tablespoons of semolina flour, 6 tablespoons of grated parmesan, 6 tablespoons of chopped parsley, and 1 teaspoon each nutmeg, black pepper and salt (sufficient stock for roughly a dozen bowls of soup). Wine: La Flor de Pulenta Sauvignon Blanc 2007 – my personal favorite Sauvignon from Argentina – crisp, dry, lots of grass and citrus notes, it made a nice contrast against the richness of the soup.

Roman cuisine, especially trattoria cuisine, is famous for its use of what the locals call “the fifth quarter”, i.e., after you’ve quartered the animal and cut it into its various steaks and chops and such, all the stuff you have left – offal – innards. One of the cuisine’s more obscure dishes is one called Rigatoni alla Pajata. Now, how do I describe pajata… it’s the small intestine of a calf, but… a calf that’s been slaughtered before it’s had anything to eat except mother’s milk… so it’s a really young calf, and normally calves are allowed to grow until they’re around 150 pounds or so before they’re considered a sufficient weight to use for food – so it’s rare that a calf this young is slaughtered, therefore rare that it’s intestines are available. The idea is that the intestines are cleaned, on the outside only – they’re tied off, and then basically poached in a tomato sauce – now remember, they’re full of milk and the natural digestive enzymes and you’re heating them – milk, plus digestive enzymes, i.e., rennet, plus heat equals… cheese. Literally. The milk inside the intestines turns into cheese. Now, here in Argentina, while they love their offal, they don’t kill calves until they’re older, and they’ve generally been grass-fed, so not just milk inside. We clean the intestines thoroughly, inside and out (an interesting process I’ll say and leave it at that for the moment). Then I snipped them into short lengths, and soaked them in milk, figuring they’ll at least pick up a little bit here and there – not that there were probably any enzyme molecules left by the time I was done cleaning them. So what I’m trying to say is this is more of a take-off on the traditional dish, okay? The sauce – lots of sliced garlic and lots of chopped celery, cooked in olive oil until soft and starting to turn golden, then added the intestines, cooked until most of the liquid has evaporated, added a cup or so of white wine, roughly 4-5 cups of crushed tomatoes, and a couple of tablespoons of tomato paste. Cook the whole thing down over low heat until it forms a thick sauce and the intestines are completely tender – roughly two hours. Toss with rigatoni, grate some cheese over the dish… it wasn’t as good as the original I’ve had in Rome, but it was really quite good, and surprisingly, no one seemed to balk at the idea of eating it. Bravo to all the guests! Wine: Weinert “Montfleury” Rosado 2007 – a very ripe, bright, and bold rose blend of Cabernet sauvignon and Malbec that had the body and spice to stand up to this dish.

There’s a good chance you’ve all tried some form of veal piccata, fried veal scallops with lemon and parsley – the original is similar, and is called Frittura Piccata – it’s pounded thin scallops of veal, lightly floured, fried in butter with thin slivers of chopped prosciutto, then the pan is deglazed with freshly squeezed lemon juice, a little bit of veal stock (I didn’t make a separate veal stock just to have half a cup of the stuff, I used some of the brown chicken stock from the soup), a handful of chopped parsley, and seasoned with salt and black pepper. This sauce is poured over the veal scallops and served. And that’s what I did – no frills, nothing fancy, it’s a simple dish and it should stay that way. To accompany it, an Indivie Intere “a Crudo”, or braised whole endive – a really easy to make side dish – thoroughly wash the endives, trim off some of the bottom stem if need be, and remove any outer leaves that are somewhat loose, or browning, you want the endives nice and tight and compact. Put them, still dripping wet, in a pan with a few crushed garlic cloves and a handful of coarsely chopped mint. Drizzle some olive oil over them, cover the pan, and cook over medium heat until they’re nice and tender – just letting them steam in their own juices with the added flavors – it’ll take about 20-25 minutes, depending on how soft you want them – they should still really be firm, but cooked through, not falling apart like they’ve been braised. Wine: I knew I wanted a Sangiovese, though it’s a classic of Tuscany, north of Rome, there’s still lots of it served up in Roman trattorias and it’s also used a fair amount in the local wines of Lazio – this is one of my favorites from Argentina, the Escorihuela Gascon Sangiovese 2004, big, rich, and spicy, and it worked great with the veal dish without overpowering it.

I started with the idea of a Budino de Ricotta, which is more or less a Roman fruitcake made with lots of ricotta studded with raisins and candied peels of various sorts and flavored with cinnamon. I’m not a big fan of most candied peels of fruits, so I decided to cut it back to just the raisins and a little bit of grated lemon and orange peel, and since, well, people seem to like my cheesecakes, made a ricotta cheesecake with golden raisins, the grated peel, and cinnamon. I had some dulce de leche left from the batch I made for the private dinner on Thursday, and warmed that up and drizzled it over the top. It worked for me, and seemed to for pretty much everyone else, though this one didn’t get quite the raves that my cheesecakes normally do… maybe raisins just don’t belong in cheesecakes… something to consider. Wine: one of our regular dessert wine contestants, the Finca El Retiro Tardío 2004 paired off nicely against the ricotta and made for a nice finish to the meal.

So, go out and rent some Anna Magnani videos, enjoy the films, and raise a glass to Mamma Roma!

 More affectionate than a kiss is a well done hug in someone that you love. Have you ever notice how I can give delicious hugs?”

– Carmen Miranda

Buenos Aires – There was no question in my mind that the event to celebrate last weekend was Carmen Miranda’s 99th birthday. Actress and singer, famous for her elaborate hats, often involving tropical fruit, and a style that was uniquely her own. Born in Portugal, and lived at various points in her life in Brazil and Los Angeles, and a world traveler, I decided that the common thread would be the fruit, and the cuisine would be international.

My first thought was a nice, traditional, Thai style green papaya salad. But green papayas were not to be found in the market, and as I started thinking of other similar ideas, my eyes chanced upon a Laotian red papaya salad. With a bit of play, as I wanted it a little prettier and more vibrant than the original, we ended up with this delicious take on the dish – which, given that virtually every plate came back licked clean, I have to assume was a hit. The salad itself is a mix of thinly sliced papaya (not too ripe, these were probably just slightly immature, but gave a nice lightly crunchy texture to the salad), blanched green beans, quartered cherry tomatoes, and whole opal basil leaves. The sauce, a coarsely blended mix of dried shrimp, garlic, peanuts, fish sauce, red rice vinegar, and a couple of fresh chilies.

It was a fairly warm weekend, and I decided on a cold soup – a gazpacho, and something with some tropical flair to it. The “broth” is a pureed mix of really ripe red tomatoes, some mango, fresh chilies, garlic, cilantro, red wine vinegar, and olive oil, salt and pepper. I strained that through a coarse strainer to get out any seeds and skin bits, and then added in a fine dice of pineapple, red and green bell peppers, and cucumbers. Just enough water added to thin out to the consistency that I wanted, then chilled, checked the seasoning (figure on a little more salt after chilling to bring out the flavors more brightly). Really delicious – the chliies and pineapple set each other off nicely (and will be used again for the main course).

This is a reprise and refinement of a dish I’ve now made a couple of times. The base is a crushed boiled potato seasoned with butter, milk, salt, and ají amarillo powder (mild Peruvian yellow chilies). Atop that is my banana guacamole – a blend of ripe avocados, banana, lemon juice, cilantro, more yellow chili peppers (fresh), and salt. And perched above are grilled langostinos, or prawns, that spent the day marinating in a mix of olive oil, salt, and smoked paprika. Each version of this dish seems just a touch of improvement, which, of course, is what one hopes for!

On to the main course, and I’d been thinking about a pineapple chili sauce, not too spicy, and then I started thinking about the fish marinated in passionfruit juice and condensed milk from the previous week’s dinners, and it just seemed a natural match. I used fillets of abadejo, or pollack, cut nice and thick, and enfolded them with the marinade in foil packets, and let them sit for a couple of hours. Then they were baked in the oven, which steams the fish in its own juices and the marinade. That was ceremoniously placed on the plates, and then a cooked down puree of fresh pineapple, and guajillo and de arbol chili powders, garlic, cumin, cloves, coriander, orange juice, olive oil, and apple cider vinegar (all reduced down to about half volume), was spooned over the top, along with a sprinkling of chopped chives, and then digging in.

Now, Carmen Miranda died in 1955, so the various postings around the net of her famed ice cream sundae, some of which purport to have been posted by her, herself, are of dubious provenance. That’s not to say she didn’t have a favorite sundae recipe, but given the variations, I’m guessing it’s just various people riffing on the theme of tropical fruits. I decided on a gelato flavored with a touch of espresso and lots of grated fresh orange peel, served on a bed of diced mango and banana, and topped with a hot caramel sauce. Good decision!

So, to Carmen Miranda, wherever you are, a toast, and a Happy Birthday!