Welcome to another posting of the 1913 Club!It’s hard to believe, but we’re halfway through round two of our culinary experiment in nostalgic dining. The fresh food, fine table settings, and delightful experiences get better with every meal; and in the process, this “thing of ours” has begun to take a life of its own!
With every meal, the bar “to surprise and delight” is raised higher and higher. And, being all too susceptible to the friendly competition, we too kicked it up a notch as we purchased an antique Colonial Revival light fixture for our dining room. Extravagant? Arguably. Necessary? No. (Unless you live in our historic neighborhood where such lunacy is a daily quest.) FINE and totally worth it? Yes, Yes, YES!!
Our menu this week was much easier to prepare. It’s true, we’ve gotten better at anticipating the scheduling demands of a 7 course meal, but for Dan and I it was much more than just this. We lucked out this week, because we didn’t have the “meal of a million sauces”! Our first dinner was excruciating because we had so many additional sauce preps for every course. We learned that not only is time consuming, but there is definitely an art to good sauce preparation. Given that our saucing was kept to a minimum this week, this menu was pretty simple—relatively speaking.
Menu: May 2nd, 2010
• Asparagus Soup
• Cheese and Pimento Salad
• Baked Bluefish a La Creole
• Chateau Potatoes & Stringless Beans with Bacon
• Frozen Strawberries
• Corn Starch Loaf Cake with Maple Frosting
• Café Noir (Black coffee)
• Baked Bluefish a La Creole
• Chateau Potatoes & Stringless Beans with Bacon
• Frozen Strawberries
• Corn Starch Loaf Cake with Maple Frosting
• Café Noir (Black coffee)
Asparagus soup: The asparagus soup was excellent. The velvety texture of this cream-based soup was warm and filling, but not too heavy, feeling like a comfort worn summer blanket on a rainy night. The soup called for 3 cups of white stock, 1 bunch of fresh (or canned) asparagus, 2 cups cold water, 2 slices of onion, 4 TB butter, 4 TB flour, 1 ½ cups scalded milk, and ½ cup of hot cream. The recipe called for washing, scraping and cutting the asparagus into one inch pieces, but reserving the tips off to the side for garnish. We boiled salted water, added the asparagus, then added stock and onion to let cook until tender. Once cooked, the asparagus mixture was supposed to be rubbed through a sieve and then mixed with the cream and milk, with salt and pepper to taste, but for our first meal (of a million sauces) we purchased a food processor. Thanks to Mr. Edison electrical prowess, we easily pureed the asparagus, milk, cream, salt, and pepper together. While keeping the soup warm on the stove, we then steamed the asparagus tips, and used them to garnish each bowl of soup. 
Blue fish a la Creole:
The main course was another story. What the heck, pray tell, is BLUE FISH???? We called everywhere for this main course item. We were told that it was called shad in South Africa and that it was similar to Amber Jack on the Southern coast… and while everyone seemed to have an opinion, no one seemed to have any actual blue fish. Central Market could special order it, but they didn’t usually get it till later in the summer (we were still in early May). Other markets we called—even Pike Peak Market in Seattle—knew of it, but did not have it, so I’m guessing that fishing regulations or seasonal patterns were the reason why it was not available. The bottom line is that we couldn’t get the fish. Our desire for authenticity was derailed by a blue fish drought of biblical proportions. And in our defense, our readers should remember we flew in breast of veal from Houston (Thanks again Gourmet Ranch!), so our intentions have been pure in spirit and practice. Instead, we went with a large variety of coastal catfish, which the fish monger assured us would work well in our Creole dish—and it did. To prepare, we removed the bones from the fish, buttered the fish thoroughly and placed in a dripping pan. We spiced the fish with paprika and salt and cooked it for about 25-30 minutes in a 350 degree oven. The recipe only called for cooking it in a “hot oven”, so we guessed that 350 would work, and it was fine. We basted the fish with the buttery pan drippings often. Towards the end of the cooking time, we sprinkled the fish with buttered, toasted crumbs and placed back in the oven to brown. Then we made the Creole sauce: Tomato pulp mixed with brown stock, butter, onion, and bell peppers, with added canned mushrooms and the mushroom broth. A garlic clove was added to cook with, but removed before serving. We then poured the Creole sauce in a bath around the fish and garnished the fish with slices of lemons slices dipped in chopped parsley.
The main course was another story. What the heck, pray tell, is BLUE FISH???? We called everywhere for this main course item. We were told that it was called shad in South Africa and that it was similar to Amber Jack on the Southern coast… and while everyone seemed to have an opinion, no one seemed to have any actual blue fish. Central Market could special order it, but they didn’t usually get it till later in the summer (we were still in early May). Other markets we called—even Pike Peak Market in Seattle—knew of it, but did not have it, so I’m guessing that fishing regulations or seasonal patterns were the reason why it was not available. The bottom line is that we couldn’t get the fish. Our desire for authenticity was derailed by a blue fish drought of biblical proportions. And in our defense, our readers should remember we flew in breast of veal from Houston (Thanks again Gourmet Ranch!), so our intentions have been pure in spirit and practice. Instead, we went with a large variety of coastal catfish, which the fish monger assured us would work well in our Creole dish—and it did. To prepare, we removed the bones from the fish, buttered the fish thoroughly and placed in a dripping pan. We spiced the fish with paprika and salt and cooked it for about 25-30 minutes in a 350 degree oven. The recipe only called for cooking it in a “hot oven”, so we guessed that 350 would work, and it was fine. We basted the fish with the buttery pan drippings often. Towards the end of the cooking time, we sprinkled the fish with buttered, toasted crumbs and placed back in the oven to brown. Then we made the Creole sauce: Tomato pulp mixed with brown stock, butter, onion, and bell peppers, with added canned mushrooms and the mushroom broth. A garlic clove was added to cook with, but removed before serving. We then poured the Creole sauce in a bath around the fish and garnished the fish with slices of lemons slices dipped in chopped parsley.
The fish tasted great and Dan cooked it perfectly. The seasoning was wonderful and added just the right amount of complexity without over seasoning the tender meat. It tasted buttery and light, and it wasn’t oily at all, despite the yummy golden butter. I really liked the brightness—both in taste and in color—that the red Creole sauce added to the fish as well.
Chateau potatoes and Stringless beans with bacon
The chateau potatoes and stringless beans with bacon were served together along with the fish course. They were as tasty as they sound. Good old fashioned browned Yukons cut into ¼ wedges, browned in butter and cooked with salt and pepper to taste, and lots of fresh green beans steamed with prepared bacon and almond slices. YUM!
These were so easy to make and beautifully presented that we intend to serve again for parties. The pimento salad mixture was creamy, light and smooth--not like the mysterious, lumpy, cheese food from the grocery that bears the same name. The key to the success of the dish was that after the cream cheese and other ingredients were mixed together, we then carved out bell pepper shells, stuffed them with the mixture, and refrigerated the concoction overnight to let it stiffen and chill. This made for easy cutting of the stuffed peppers into wedges the next day. For the presentation we sprinkled the wedges with paprika and plated them with sliced tomatoes. The dish tasted cool and refreshing, and they were visually appealing as well with the juxtaposition of bright greens, oranges and reds on the plate.
This dish was by far the biggest hit of the day! Basically, it was a blended emulsification of milk, light cream, sugar, and strawberries that was then frozen overnight into “ice cream”. The pleasant surprise for us all is that we found it to be it a lighter, sweeter, and a better summer desert then the ice cream that we eat today. Everyone loved its clean finish and the refreshment it provided after the heavy dinner course, which cleansed the palette, as was its intention. It served as the perfect bridge for the sweeter dessert course to follow and in so doing, truly demonstrated the logic behind the purposeful pairing of specific dishes with others in these multi-course menus—something that I don’t think many dinner hosts/hostesses consider in our current time.
Corn starch loaf cake with maple frostingBlack coffee
The zenith of this lovely meal was our opportunity to toast to Robert and Jane’s mother, our dear friend, Mrs. Mary Ellen Wedding whose beautiful demitasse service we used for the after dinner coffee. Toasting to her health, goodness, and the friendship that we cherish with her, we blew out the candles on another perfect meal from 1913.
Calling all readers!!
We have spoken with several neighbors, co-workers and friends who follow our blog and look forward to hearing about our adventures. We’d love to read your comments!! If you’re out there, let us hear you by posting a comment on our blog!!
The next meal is Sunday, May 30th, and the following meal is scheduled for June 6th, so check back in soon to read about this, and future meals enjoyed by the 1913 dinner club.
Thank you for sharing in our adventures with us, and we look forward to hearing from you soon!
