Herbs

 Herbs are, more or less, essential to good cooking. They are used in many capacities and in many applications. To my mind there are two types: those you cook and those you use raw. The cooking herbs are useful for building flavors. They will typically contribute a depth of savor to a preparation that will round out and complete a profile. Most cooking herbs are simmered in a liquid medium for a relatively long period of time and the initial assertion of their taste will mellow to a warm background note. Another hallmark of these types of herbs is their propensity for drying. A lot is said of the inferiority of dried herbs but they have their place. I would never, say, finish a salad with a pinch of dried thyme, but I wouldn't hesitate to flavor a stew with the same. The herbs that dry the best are composed, in large part, of oils that are concentrated when they are dried. This means that the flavor is largely preserved and indeed, amplified. The flavor will fade however and the commercially available dried herbs lining the supermarket shelves have the potential to be quite vapid. The best solution is to dry one's own herbs on the branch. This easily done: simply tie up the branch in some kitchen string and hang it in a well-ventilated area for a week or so till fully dessicated then strip the leaves and store in an airtight jar. The herbs that can be dried include thyme, oregano (which actually tastes better dried than fresh), savory, marjoram (though the fresh plant has an exquisite flavor that the dried seems to lack even if it is a valuable flavoring agent), rosemary (however the prickly roughness of the dried needles means they must be dealt with with caution) and bay leaves. Sage has the oily makeup to theoretically be dried but the musty favor of dried sage seems to discourage such a process.
  On a different tack, fresh herbs are absolutely wonderful and practically indidpensible. I believe that the note they add to dish, on the finish, cannot be replaced. The herbs that should absolutely be used fresh include parsley, chives, tarragon, basil and chervil. Marjoram, an herb for which I have a particular fondness, is magnificent fresh and merely acceptable dried. The purpose of fresh herbs is -- just as often as adding flavor -- to add a freshness and finishing touch to a preparation. A long-cooked stew, soup or braise will acquire new life when a dose of freshly chopped green herbs are terminally incorporated. This inclusion completes a "spectrum" of flavors, starting with base notes from things such as aromatic vegetables and dark green herbs, continuing with the main savor in a dish (chicken for a chicken soup, beef in a pot roast, et cetera, et cetera) and concluding with the brightness of fresh herbs. This method of flavoring assures the most complete tasting food.

Here are some thoughts on three of my favorites:

Parsley- Its greeness flatters any conceivable dish; there is nothing that clashes with parsley's genial taste. It is as fundamental to fine cooking as is salt and pepper and about as omnipresent. It is available is every grocery store and should be thought of as a staple of the nature of olive oil and vinegar rather than an item of produce. To preserve its lifespan it is smart to keep it, stems submerged, in a glass of water in the refrigerator. My favorite way to chop parsley is to roll it very tightly into a bundle and slice across as thinly as I can. This produces feathery whisps that in true parlance is called chiffonade. Parsley also marries with garlic to form a single savor. This mixture, called persillade, is excellent when tossed at the last minute into a sauteed preparation or when used as a flavoring agent in a stuffing or the like. The inclusion of this melange will often denote the designation "á la provencal" to a dish, notably to frogs' legs and mushrooms. Parsley is the most useful herb to have on hand and its availability is a boon to all cooks.

Thyme- Thyme is similar to parsley in its scope of utility. It is more than acceptable as a finishing touch but truly is in its element as a background note, gently melting to form aromatic support to a dish. In this capacity it is often combined with other herbs, each of them combining with long-applied heat to a flavorful total greater than the sum of its parts. The classic bouquet garni is thyme, bay leaf and parsley. The beauty of a bundle of herbs, tied up in kitchen string is as exciting to the eye as the palate. Thyme is usable in both its fresh and dried states and it is possible to obtain flavorful dried thyme at a market that moves larges quantities of herbs and thus has fresh stock often. I like the Spice Corner in the Italian Market on Ninth Street (it is, appropriately enough, on the corner of Salter Street). It has a wealth of herbs and spices as well as such savories as nuts, dried mushrooms, coffees, teas and a host of curiosities, not to mention exceptionally honest prices.

Marjoram- This beautiful herb seems to becoming more and more popular and is thus easier to find. It is related to oregano and, in a sort of basic way, resembles it. It is totally different in flavor and aroma. It may be difficult to find but is absolutely worth seeking out. It is sweet and aromatic with a particular clean flavor which will flatter a great variety of foods. It can be used dried as a cooking herb but really finds itself when used fresh. The finely chopped leaves will add an ineffable dimension to whatever they ennoble with their presence. I love it with lamb, zucchini, garlic, beef and just about everything else. I have had the most consistent luck finding it at Iovine Bros. in Reading Terminal Market. There it is sold for a reasonable price rather than in those infernal plastic contraptions in grocery stores for insulting amounts of money. Use marjoram!

These are some of my favorites and I hope to expand upon this list in the near future, there is much to be said about many herbs. I only implore you to try them and broaden your cooking. It can do nothing but bring you pleasure, both in the acquisition of knowledge about an ancient and natural practice and the due to the obvious gustatory benefits. Herbs are wonderful and once you start using them it is difficult to stop, but no worries there.

 I live in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania and believe firmly in French Gastronomy. As often as is possible I host friends so that I may share my vision of fine living. It is a luxurious thing to sit around a table, glass of wine in hand and be positively thrilled at the mingled pleasures of good food, fine wine and the company of those you most care about. It is in the enjoyment of food and wine in the deliberately ritualized setting of the dinner table that we, as people, are at our best and the world makes the most sense. It is not meant to be a realm of snobs or bombasts. The raison d'être of the table, in my view, is to both have a good time and forge new connections with one's fellow human beings. It is at once a very serious and very frivolous pursuit. After all, without the stabilizing influence of culture (with food traditions filling an anchoring position on the same scope as language in such a broad term) the refinements of our militaries, economies, scientists, television networks and I know not what mean literally nothing.

  My intention is to share my experiences at table. I try to put a great deal of thought to the meals I create so that the experience is a harmonious statement that is easy to grasp and yet offers a deep and profound level of pleasure for those willing to spare more than a passing thought for nourishment and lubrication. I will offer my basic template for a meal:

Aperitif- I like to offer something different than any other wine I am serving. this often means Champagne or other sparkling wine but I have also been ravished by barely sweet Vouvray or Riesling or a dry and vibrant fino sherry. The aperitif should literally be an appetite sharpener and should leave the palate unencumbered for the main body of the meal.

First Course- There are a nearly infinite variety of possibilities for this. I serve white wine with this so its compatibility with that drink is taken for granted. The scope of white wines allows for a great variety of preparations here. I most often find myself making a vegetable or seafood dish to accompany whichever wine is most suitable. If it's vegetables á la grecque it may be a Chablis, a Pouilly-Fumé or perhaps a white Côtes du Rhône. A more powerful preparation, say, fish in a creamed sauce, would fit nicely with a white Burgundy, be it Poully-Fuissé, a Mâcon-Villages or a fine Côte d'Or. An important consideration is the following wine; it would be silly to precede a fine and venerable claret with a little and acid white wine just as it would be senseless to follow a beautiful Côte de Beaune premier cru with a rough and tumble red from the Rhône Valley. Just like everything else this course and its accompanying wine should fit into the overall harmony of the meal. 

Second Course- This is the food climax. The "main course." To my mind that means meat. Whether a straightforward roast or a more involved assembly or braise this is the cornerstone of the meal. Garnishes and side dishes can often be kept to a minimum since the preceding course will often concern itself more thoroughly with vegetables. I often like to serve a starch at this point as relief for the meat. An assembly such as a blanquette de veau – poached veal breast served in a divinely creamed sauce over top fresh egg noodles – allows for a single commanding dish that cannot fail to garner admiration. Often this course will involve a joint of meat that requires disassembly, which is to say carving. A seemingly forgotten art, carving is a true joy for all involved. There is little as handsome as, say, a burnished roasted piece of meat brought table-side to be dispatched by a skilled hand and a sharp knife. The simplicity of a roast chicken, requiring little forethought or expertise, will be elevated when the whole bird is carved before the diners eyes; they become partcipants and part of the mysterious gap seperating the eater from the eaten is bridged. Please, try carving, do it in front of your friends, they won't mind if you mess up, I promise. 

  In terms of wine, this is, generally, red wine territory. I like to serve two red wines in a meal and this is the first opportunity. Meat has a marvelous affinity to red wines and when tasted together they can often soften each other; the meat will often be "finished" by a wine, I consider it the final seasoning of the dish, and the wine will open itself up more generously. The red here can be relatively simple and, ideally, should pave the way for the red to follow. It makes the most sense to have two reds of the same region or grape varietal and follow the simpler with the more venerable. For example a Mercurey from the Côte Chalonnaise (a lesser section of Burgundy) could precede a fine red from the Côte de Nuits (for many the summit of red Burgundy.) Another alternative is to serve the same wine or at least the same type and serve a younger version first to be followed by and older and (theoretically) more mature example. 

Third Course- This is salad. A simple green salad. Nothing but fresh lettuces and herbs in a dressing made only of olive oil, vinegar, salt and pepper. The lettuces can be of any sort and a more interesting result is had when there are several varieties incorporated into the same salad. Herbs will compliment and the vinegar and oil should be more than decent; there is no subterfuge to hide behind here, they must be delicious on their own. The salad course may seem strange placed this late in the meal but it is often a revelation for those unused to eating in this fashion. That being said, it makes complete sense to serve a salad, whether comprising only lettuce or a more involved garnish, as a first course and forgo this dish. No wine is served here. Vinegar and wine do not agree and at any rate the wine that would most compliment a simple green salad (white) would create nothing but discord when placed between the two reds that surround it. This is the start of what I think of as the "denouement" of the meal, the last three courses forming a sort of arc that gently brings the meal to a conclusion. If done right the last three will also require little last minute effort by the cook and do nothing but extend the pleasure of dining. 

Fourth Course- Cheeses. A platter of a few types of cheese, each different in character, is spectacular. I always accompany it with the best bread I can get and am every time in wonder at the miracle of cheese. The inclusion of a creamy, brie-like cheese will satisfy many a cheese lover and the inclusion of something firm and crumbly on the platter will only highlight the luxury of a runny cheese. I like to have at least three cheeses and the third is often a goat milk cheese, whether aged or fresh. 

  The main reason for the cheese course is, however wonderful the cheese may be, its wine. This is the red wine climax and the time to pull out the finest bottle you may muster. Because of this I find it important to select those cheeses which will not offend a fine wine nor assert their own character to the detriment of the wine. It is better to have delicate cheeses (which is not at all to say bland) and fully appreciate the wine than to risk destroying the wine with violent (and potentially scrumptious) examples. This means there are many cheeses I will not welcome to my cheese board that I would, under any other circumstances, enjoy tremendously. Blue cheeses are often too powerful or at least too salty to be included though there are certain mighty red that may hold their own in such company. Trust your taste, it cannot possibly let you down, if it tastes good to you it is good.

Fifth Course-  Dessert. Even those without a sweet tooth will appreciate at least a little something to conclude a meal. The scope here is obviously endless and any attempt at a categorization of the possiblites is fruitless. There are a few things I consider, however. Foremost is wine; if I am lucky enough to be serving a dessert wine I will choose something that will compliment it. This first of all means that I will not serve a dessert sweeter than its accompanying wine, lest the wine, more delicate than solid food, be shown in a poor light. Secondly there are certain things to avoid: most wines will not tolerate chocolate and a frozen dessert will deaden one's enjoyment of a fine dessert wine. Another thing to consider is timing. It is interminable to be running around finishing endless last minute chores throughout the meal and by this point it is very satisfying to be able to simply pull out one's preprepared dish and serve it forth. Wines that accompany desserts are obviously sweet and there are several varieties, in a perfect world every meal would conclude with a fine Sauternes but in real life one may often make due with a less vaunted type, say a Coteaux de Layon or Muscat de Beaume-de-Venise. These are all delicious even if comparison between they and Sauternes, however unfair, is inevitable thanks to the tremendous amount of pleasure derived from sipping on a well-chilled glass of Sauternes. The flavors of almonds (and nuts in general), peaches and apples all compliment a Sauternes very well. True Sauternes is pricey so don't get down on yourself for not serving it everyday, just don't forget it for when you can justify the expense, I assure that the pleasure is more than worth it. Fortified wines I prefer to serve alone or with a simple cookie-like thing to accompany.

  After dinner is a time for coffee and brandy or liqueurs. A cup of strong coffee and a tiny glass of eau-de-vie is a stunning conclusion.

  This is my very personal exploration on the structure of a meal. It suits my purposes well but I cannot promise it will completely satisfy all tastes. This is, to be sure, a rather decadent approach to dining but there is no shame in that. Decadence has its place just as temperance does. To everything there is a season and all that. This is also a fairly involved dinner layout and a simpler example could be had for everyday dining that follows similar principles. The most important idea in this menu format is progression: specifically two separate, discrete and related paths. One is food the other is wine. The food should progress from complex to simple and the wine from simple to complex. A complicated composed salad that opens a meal will find its happiest partner in a simple white wine that will flatter but not compete whereas a fine red wine is best understood in the presence of a simple roast or the like.  Cheers and happy dining.