Ouefs mayo - An untried recipe

 

Eggs may served with panzanella (bread salad).
The two dishes perfectly complemented each other
for a really good, light supper.

Usually, I share a recipe after I’ve tried it, but I’m reversing that today. Tonight’s supper will be the panzanella salad I reported on a couple of weeks ago and oeufs mayo, a staple in French cafes. It looks easy and foolproof—I may be jinxing myself with that statement, and Lord knows enough has gone wrong in the last few days, that I don’t need any more mishaps. But the real reason I am including it today it’s because in a Gastro Obscura newsletter, I found a fascinating history of, say it in English, eggs mayonnaise.

Before you dismiss this with, “I make deviled eggs all the time,” please know that those pale before eggs mayo. To begin with, the eggs must be cooked just so, neither too runny nor too hard. The recommendation is to bring water to a boil, immediately turn the burner to simmer, and let it cook precisely 8 minutes, 40 seconds. Then immediately plunge into an ice bath to stop the cooking. Any longer and the yolks develop that greenish-gray ring around the outside that we’ve all seen. I usually let eggs linger in that ice bath until cold and then refrigerate, but that won’t work with eggs mayo. As soon as you can handle them, peel, cut in half, but do not scrape out the yolk.

Serve the eggs, which should be almost warm, with a dollop of mayonnaise. Homemade mayo is preferable, but I plan to cheat (it’s been that kind of a day) and thin some Duke’s mayo with a bit of lemon. The thing is you “dress” the eggs—the New York Times recipe suggests capers and anchovies, which sounds good to me. The roasted red pepper strips not so much. But a sprinkling of minced green onion tops sounds both showy and delicious.

The French treasure this dish so much that there is now L’Association du sauvegard de l’oeuf mayonnaise—The Egg Mayo Protection Association, which holds an annual competition for the world championship. French bistros began serving this delicacy in the early twentieth century. The bistros were where the working-class immigrants could eat on the cheap, and eggs were inexpensive to serve. Over the years, the dish’s popularity and its price remained relatively stable, but the popularity of bistro cafes declined and many closed. In the eighties, the world went cholesterol crazy and named eggs as a principal food to be avoided. Bistros, already struggling, cut them from the menu. French food critic Claude Lebey went to battle, declaring eggs as “indispensable to cuisine as the paperclip is to the office.” So he created the association to preserve the dish.

Lebey retired in 2013, and the association languished until 2018 when his grandson, Vincent Brenot persuaded three friends to join him in taking up the cause. Brenot may have had his tongue in his cheek, but after no time at all the revived association had 500 members, everyone from professional chefs to amateurs. Today, each member gets a card entitling him to one free egg mayo serving at the restaurant of the winning chef. Of course, if the restaurant is in Australia, as it once was, that may present a problem for the average French citizen.

Not familiar with Gastro Obscura? There’s a weekly newsletter, a website offering stories, travel opportunities, courses on the world’s most the world’s most wondrous food and drink. No restaurant reviews, recipes, or interviews with chefs, and no news of current food trends. But stories like why the bagel is a food fad in Israel or how to fry crickets or, well, the saving of oeufs mayo—they’re all there. And now there’s a hardback book “loaded with incredible ingredients, food adventures, and edible wonders from around the world” (I just happen to have received a copy of the book as a birthday gift). If your interest is piqued, check out the website:  Welcome to Gastro Obscura - Gastro Obscura (atlasobscura.com)..

Composed salads

 

Cobb salad

No, composed salads are not those jellied concoctions that were popular in your grandma’s day and showed up on her table every Sunday when you were a kid. Remember? Orange Jell-O with grated carrots and pineapple chunks? Cherry Jell-O with dark cherries and—shhh! —port wine. Or jellied gazpacho. (I really liked some of those, though pistachio pudding and Cool Whip were a bit much for me.)

Composed salads are simply salads where the ingredients are laid out on a plate instead of tossed in a bowl. Traditionally when you serve them at home, you lay the ingredients out on one large platter. Diners help themselves, but we all know that self-service can get kind of messy. For a small crowd—two to four—I sometimes serve individual salads laid out in a soup plate. You can dress the individual dishes or pass a small pitcher of dressing.

The nice thing about them is you can use almost any ingredients that strike your fancy. There are, however, two basic composed salads familiar to everyone who has ever had lunch in a bistro café. Both are often served on a bed of lettuce.

 

Cobb salad

Cobb salad started in the 1930s at the Brown Derby restaurant in Hollywood. Owner Bob Cobb went prowling in his restaurant’s refrigerator for leftovers, arranged them on a plate, drizzled French dressing over the dish, and there it was. Within days it was on the menu

Traditional ingredients are cold chicken breast, often diced, tomato (cherry tomatoes are good), green beans, tiny potatoes, cheese (sometimes blue, sometimes cheddar), avocado, bacon bits, sometimes artichoke hearts.

Cobb used French dressing on his salad but use your imagination. I think a good vinaigrette is nice because it accents the flavor of the ingredients without overwhelming them. But restaurants frequently offer a choice, so feel free to use ranch, blue cheese, Italian, honey-mustard, whatever suits.

 

Salade Niçoise

Salade nicoise

Whereas Cobb features chicken, this traditional French salade is built around tuna. I like to do it with high quality canned albacore in water. Want to be really authentic? Use fresh fish.

Olives are also traditional, but I omit them because olives are on the short list of things I just don’t eat. But tiny baby potatoes, peeled, boiled, and cut in quarters, if necessary, green beans, hard-boiled eggs are all common. I sometimes add asparagus. If you like them, anchovy strips add an haute cuisine touch.

Here’s a vinaigrette that I frequently use (enough for two individual salads):

Scant quarter cup chives, or substitute tops only of scallions

2 Tbsp. red wine vinegar

1 small shallot, roughly chopped

½ tsp. honey

½ tsp. Dijon mustard

½ cup vegetable oil

2 Tbsp. olive oil

Put it all in the food processor and whirl until greens are absorbed into dressing.

When the potatoes are warm, pour a small bit of vinaigrette on them. Also dress the greens lightly that you use on the plate. Drizzle remaining dressing over the salad.

Good thing about these salads? You can fix them at the last minute without heating up the kitchen.

Stay cool. Today is supposed to be better. Who would ever have thought we’d see 101 as “better”? I do believe I’ll have to get out my flannel pjs.

 

 

 

Make it a salad summer!

 

By popular request, (that’s right, two readers!), here is the potato salad recipe I mentioned last week. Thanks to longtime friend Sue Winter for this recipe.

Lemon Potato Salad

(Serves 8)

6 medium red potatoes

1 small onion diced

½ cup celery, diced

¼ to ½ cup parsley, finely chopped

Small jar of pimiento, optional (optional here means I leave it out)

Dressing:

2 tsp. fresh lemon zest

3-4 Tbsp. lemon juice

3-4 Tbsp. salad oil

1 Tbsp. salt (don’t skimp)

¼ tsp. pepper

Boil potatoes in skins until tender. While the potatoes are boiling, make the dressing. You want to have it ready when they are done.

Potatoes are done when a fork meets just a little resistance—you don’t want them so done they crumble. Drain. Peel and dice while still warm. Add onion and pour the sauce over the still-warm potatoes and onion. Stir to coat well. Add celery, parsley, and pimiento (if using). Chill before serving.

And here’s a salad I made recently. This should be eaten the day it’s served but note that you start it way ahead of time. This is a traditional Italian summer salad.

Panzanella, or bread salad

(serves four generously)

6-8 cups artisan bread, cubed

1 heirloom tomato chopped

¼ large English cucumber

½ medium yellow or red bell pepper

1 small red onion

Dressing:

½ cup olive oil

½ cup red wine vinegar

¼ tsp. salt

Pepper to taste

¼ cup fresh basil leaves, sliced into thin ribbons

Purists object, but you can also olives, mozzarella, capers, anchovies, tuna, parsley, boiled eggs, lemon juice, and garlic, according to your taste.

The night before serving or early in the morning because you want those bread cubes to sit out on a baking sheet so they will harden and get a bit stale. Unless the crust is unusually tough, leave it on.

Slice the onion and soak in cold water to soften the taste. Chop remaining vegetables. Whisk dressing ingredients together.

Mix vegetables and bread in a large bowl. Pour the dressing over and toss to combine thoroughly.

Let the salad sit at room temperature at least half an hour—longer is better—before serving. When ready to serve, stir in the basil.

The night I served panzanella, it was an accompaniment to turkey tonnato. Simply spread tonnato sauce on sliced roast turkey, about ¼ inch slices.

Tonnato sauce

½ cup mayonnaise

¼ cup good olive oil

1 6 oz. can tuna in olive oil (do not drain it)

2 anchovy filets

1 generous Tbsp. lemon juice

Freshly ground black pepper

Mix ingredients together and slather on meat. Sprinkle with capers. This sauce is good on veal and pork as well as turkey. You could also serve it on roast vegetables, salad, even as a sandwich spread or a dip with crudities. Just be sure your guests like tuna and anchovies. It’s strong but addictive.

Happy summer eating.

In search of perfect potato salad--and a peek at the State Fair

 

In another life, I was married to a man who ordered cheesecake everywhere it was available. He was always seeking one that reached the standard of the New York’s Carnegie Deli’s cheesecake. I’m that way about potato salad. There is potato salad … and there is potato salad.

I’m not sure what standard I hold up as ideal. I have fond memories of my mom’s potato salad, but I think it was pretty standard: potatoes, celery, green onions, mayonnaise, salt and pepper. She learned a new twist when the Italian cook at the hospital where my dad worked taught her a secret: peel the potatoes while hot, dice, and marinate in a little vinaigrette for a while. Then proceed as usual. (Side note: I made curried chicken salad last night and marinated the chicken, celery, and onion in Newman’s Own Oil & Vinegar for an hour in the fridge before finishing the salad—I could tell it made a difference.)

Back to potato salad. I don’t like that served in most barbecue restaurants—it’s usually mashed potatoes, and I like my potatoes chunked. My friend Elaine is crazy about the potato salad from Mrs. Allen’s in Sweetwater (Allen Family Style Meals—one of Texas’ notable roadside cafés). She brought me some once, but I wasn’t as dippy about it. It’s mashed potatoes, and I think we detected a bit of vinegar. The only barbecue potato salad that comes close for me is Heim’s, but I wish they wouldn’t put bacon in it. See how fussy I am?

My very favorite ever is served at County Line BBQ in Austin and San Antonio. I’ve never been to either place, but the salad was served years ago at a wedding reception, and I’m afraid I made a pig of myself. The recipe for this one is all over the internet (County Line Potato Salad Recipe - Food.com) but it makes enough to feed Coxie’s Army. And it’s a bit of a job to make. One good thing about it: you boil whole russet potatoes, refrigerate until cool, and peel. So much better than trying to peel hot potatoes. I have a recipe for Lemon Potato Salad that is out of this world, but it requires peeling the potatoes while hot so you can marinate in lemon.

Dill pickle relish distinguishes the County Line salad, and these days, thanks to daughter-in-law Lisa, I make a smaller, quicker version of County Line. We had it on the Fourth of July with fried chicken. Before Jean tasted it, we talked about how we make potato salad, and she was vehement about no pickle. But she ate mine with relish (yes, that was a deliberate pun).

Lisa’s potato salad

3 lbs. potatoes (I used red this time, let them chill before I peeled them)

½ c. sweet onion, diced (I am loving the sweet onions this year—one good thing about a hard summer)

4 hardboiled eggs (I omitted because Christian doesn’t eat—turns out he never had the potato salad anyway)

2 Tbsp. dill pickle juice

½ cup dill pickle relish (you might want to cut back a bit on either this or the juice)

1 cup mayonnaise (I’m increasingly making salads like this with half mayo and half sour cream)

¼ cup Dijon mustard

½ tsp. pepper

2-1/2 tsp. salt

Dash paprika

I halved this recipe for two, and I’m still eating leftovers. In fact, I’ve got such good leftovers today, it’s a wonder I’m not eating lunch at ten in the morning: meatloaf, potato salad, marinated cucumbers, curried chicken salad with a cheese/potato chip broiled topping. My cup runneth over.

For those anticipating the Texas State Fair this fall, the Fort Worth Star-Telegram this morning published a list of the eighteen deep-fried creations under consideration this year. I can’t list them all, but here are some samples:

Cajun Lobster Bisque Croquettes — Lightly seasoned fried potato balls filled with a mixture of rich lobster meat and creamy brie cheese, served with a side of Cajun lobster bisque for dipping.

Deep-Fried Lasagna Roll — Pasta is covered with a mixture of ricotta, Parmesan, provolone and mozzarella cheese, then topped with meat sauce. The lasagna roll is dipped in a cheddar-and-herb batter and fried, served with a side of deep-fried Zucchini fries

Holy Biscuit — A biscuit is stacked with shredded brisket and fire-roasted street corn queso. Then, thick-cut bacon drizzled with Texas honey is added and served with pickle French fries.

And on the sweet side ….

Fat Elvis — A blend of peanut butter and strawberry jelly whisked together and spread on a biscuit. A layer of marshmallow fluff and fire toast is next, followed by bacon and fried plantain bananas.

The Ultimate Brookie Monster — Crispy, chewy chocolate chip cookies are layered with Oreos and marshmallows — then covered in triple-chocolate brownie batter and baked together into a super brookie. The super brookie is then fried and showered in powdered sugar and served it with a scoop of vanilla ice cream.

Read more at:

https://www.star-telegram.com/entertainment/article263227288.html#storylink=cpy