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cabbage and foie gras bundles {ffwd}
With just a handful of recipes to go before the French Fridays with Dorie crew finishes cooking all the recipes in Around My French Table, some of the recipes left are where they are in the lineup due to deliberate procrastination. A case in point would be this week’s choice: Cabbage and Foie Gras Bundles.
As it turns out, this elegant starter might be even simpler to put together than its name describes. Foie gras is wrapped in boiled cabbage leaves and steamed to warm the liver.
I’ll admit that I felt great ambivalence on this one. I wasn’t inclined to make a major investment in ingredients, so I didn’t put much effort into searching for the foie gras terrine. When we made the coddled eggs that called for foie gras mousse, I had great luck with the chicken liver mousse from Trader Joe’s, so I just bought that again. Of course, I didn’t read the recipe header where Dorie said to use a terrine made with whole foie gras not chopped or mousse. Oops.
My misadventure continues. The first step is to boil the leaves to soften them enough to be able to wrap up the foie gras into bundles. I couldn’t find Savoy cabbage, though I’m sure the softer, more tender leaves of Savoy would have been easier to separate from the head. Leaves on the regular green cabbage I bought are stiff. As I removed each leaf off my head of cabbage, it tore.
So, I have torn cabbage leaves and the wrong kind of foie gras terrine. Next step, I wrapped thick slices of liver mousse in the softened cabbage leaves. Fortunately, those cabbage leaves are more forgiving than I thought and I had bundles, ready to steam.
Nothing really needs further cooking. The steaming step is intended to warm the filling. The mousse being more delicate than what was really called for, I only steamed the bundles for 2 minutes. Now, transfer to the plate, drizzle with extra virgin olive oil, and sprinkle with fleur de sel. Voila!
Howard’s been trying to get me to make his grandmother’s stuffed cabbage for years. These bundles are Not Your Grandmother’s Stuffed Cabbage, but they are tasty. Howard really liked them. I don’t know that I’d make this again, but it was worth trying.
If you want to see what my French Friday friends thought of their bundles, check their links here.
After our starter, we enjoyed leftover Chicken Parmentier from the latest Everyday Dorie column in the Washington Post. If you haven’t tried it yet, you should!
riviera fish soup {ffwd}
It was another cold, though less snowy, week here in the Great White North. I’ve noticed the days getting longer with the sun coming up earlier and setting later every day. I finally believe that spring might be coming, though I suspect we won’t see the earth under its multi-foot layer of snow until after spring’s arrival.
The idea of a pot of fish soup was a welcome antidote to the chill in the air. I could get excited about an imaginary dinner on the French Riviera. I made a grocery list and went to pick up what I needed. I was envisioning a fragrant tomato broth with other Provençal flavors like fennel, orange peel, and saffron. I was also anticipating spoonfuls of fish chunks surrounded by this lovely broth, but wait… The path to dinner was much different than I expected.
It started at the fish counter. Wegman’s has come to town (the next town, actually). I’m trying hard to like it and haven’t given up yet, but each visit I leave feeling like it fell short. Their produce is a nightmare, and their precut fish has been a disappointment because it always looks hacked into the pieces for sale.
One thing I’ll give Wegman’s props for is the display of fresh whole fish on ice at the fish counter which I don’t see everywhere. I was in search of a whole red snapper, so chose to shop there again. They didn’t have red snapper, so I opted for two ocean perch. The fish guy scaled them for me, and offered to fillet or whatever else I wanted to the fish, but I thought I was cooking them whole so declined.
At home, I finally read the recipe through. I realized that after I cut off the heads, the fish needed to be cut into chunks. I guess I could have had the fish guy bone the fish for me. Oh well. I googled what to do and did it myself. It didn’t seem like I was supposed to add the bones to this soup, so I froze them for fish stock another time.
The remaining steps to make the soup were mostly easy and “the usual”. Vegetables are sautéed. The fish gets added. Liquid is supplied from chopped canned tomatoes and its juices plus water. Herbs, orange rind, saffron and Pernod (pastis, an anise liqueur) provide the seasonings as the soup simmers. The final surprise was the food mill. I was honestly confused by the concept of all of these ingredients being processed into a fishy puree. I did it, particularly because miscellaneous bones made their way into the pot, so this step made it easy to get rid of them, but it wasn’t what I expected.
I also had some issues making the rouille for topping toasts to accompany the fish soup. I make homemade mayonnaise a few times a year, starting with one whole egg, in my food processor. Because Dorie’s recipe uses just one yolk, I was worried that the volume would be too small for the food processor, so I used the blender. From experience, I knew it would splatter out the top, so I covered it with plastic wrap and poked a small hole in for drizzling the oil. I would swear I’d done this before, successfully, but this time, it didn’t work. My mayonnaise didn’t emulsify. I tried to fix it by slowly incorporating the failed mayo into a new egg yolk, but that didn’t work either. In the end, I dumped it and made a new batch using my old standby recipe which worked like a champ on the first try. As a nod to Dorie’s recipe, I used Dijon mustard instead of the dry mustard I usually use. (I’ve already made a few batches of croquants lately, so if anyone has suggestions for what to do with my egg whites, I’m looking for something new.)
In the end, I liked the flavors of the soup. Because of my original idea of what the soup would be like, the smooth texture threw me. I was OK with the broth having substance instead of being a clear broth, but I prefer fish chunks on my spoon instead of hiding in the soup. Upon rereading the recipe, I see that Dorie thinks the fine shreds of fish in each spoonful is more satisfying, for my taste, I disagree. If I make this again (which I might) I would cook everything except the fish chunks, puree that, and then cook the fish in the pureed soup.
Without a doubt, my favorite part was the toast with rouille on top. I could easily just eat the garnish without the soup. Fortunately, there’s still plenty left!
To see how the other Doristas fared in this last installment of “French Fridays” Fish Month, check out their links here. We don’t post the recipes for this group, but you can find it in Dorie Greenspan’s book Around My French Table.








