Shrimp cocktail has a mystique. At least in my mind, it is associated with the hushed atmosphere of a “good” restaurant. My daughter has eaten in restaurants more in her 15-year lifespan than I may have before the age of 30, but when I was growing up in a middle-class town in northern NJ, with immigrant parents who’d lived through WWII, a restaurant meal was a once or twice a year event for our family. When we did go, I certainly wasn’t allowed to order the coveted and expensive shrimp cocktail, but my father was.  It would arrive, as it often did in the 60s and 70s, presented in a huge metal contraption that housed shaved ice, a reservoir buried in the ice for the spicy, ketchup-y sauce, with the pink and proud jumbo shrimp perched delicately along the rim , like so many hummingbirds on a backyard feeder. Savoring each snap and crunch of the cooled shrimp, the brine of them reminding him of his days living in Marseilles working as a merchant marine sailing the ports of the Mediterranean, my father would sometimes let me have a bite. And what a bite it was. Not enough to satisfy, but just enough to make me long for my own order of the dish, my own full order….someday. How decadent and grown up and guilty I felt the first time I sat in a restaurant as an adult and ordered one all to myself. The classic shrimp cocktail may not be the darling of food-forward menus these days, but it is still a crowd pleaser, as evidenced by the proliferation of ready-to-go tractor-trailer-hub-cab-sized platters of it you can find at most large grocery stores, with their rubbery, flavorless shrimp and out-of-a-can-tasting cocktail sauce. The version I’m sharing with you pays homage to my iconic Shrimp Cocktail memories, but brings it up a notch, building flavor and tenderness in the shrimp with a brine, packing a punch of flavor with spices, and a little flavor building technique for the sauce.

Nothing too out of the ordinary in terms of ingredients for the sauce, but I do choose organic ketchup for the base because it does not have the high-fructose corn syrup found in most ketchups. The elevation of the sauce comes in the applying a few classic techniques for building flavor. Start with shallots and celery seed in olive oil…

…end up with this.

Add the ketchup and Worcestershire…

…and then reduce, over low, low heat, stirring frequently, for about 20 minutes, concentrating the flavors, thickening the sauce and turning it into a deeper, richer red. Add horseradish and a bit of tabasco for the bite that bites you back. And a squeeze of lemon.

Combine….and set aside, after you are done tasting and tasting and tasting it. Leave some for the guests!

The peeled and deveined shrimp get a one-hour brining that gives the finished cooked shrimp a wonderful inner flavor to complement the outer sauce, and a wonderful tender texture too. After draining the shrimp from the brine, and patting it dry, you shower them with the spice combo that takes this “shrimp cocktail” into the present and leaves that classic one in the musty closet of the past. Smoked paprika, chipotle chili powder, cayenne, cumin, salt and black pepper, with a little olive oil to help them wear it all well.

See.

Roast them in a 400 degree oven on a rack to let the heat circulate around them.

And watch them carefully, for 4-5 minutes so you don’t overcook. And that’s it….aside from perhaps a judicious squeeze of lime over the finished shrimp…or the addition of a shot of tequila or vodka to the sauce to prove you are an adult and can have the alcohol AND as many shrimp as you damn well please.

If my father were still with us, and at my house on Super Bowl Sunday when I’m going to make a big batch of these, he’d want to have some. And maybe, just maybe, I’d let him.

It’s January and time for returning to basics in many ways. After holiday extravagance, I am in the mindset of taking stock and stocking up. The cold makes me turn to low, slow cooking and the cozy, melting, flavorful results, which explains my obsession with confit. You could say that my poaching everything from garlic to onions and fennel, to cod, to turkey legs in deep pots of oil or butter is an attempt to get, well, “confit cozy” this winter.

Bad culinary jokes, aside (did I really say, confit cozy?) confit is one of the oldest methods for cooking and preserving foods. Salting and slowly poaching meats, root vegetables, or fish in fat allowed them to be held, sealed in fat, for months at a time without refrigeration. The fat protects the product from being exposed to the air and bacteria, which leads to spoiling. Today, with modern cooling available, we don’t use confit for preservation as much as for the exquisite flavor and texture this method develops. I’ve been smudging up my pages of Thomas Keller’s Bouchon Cookbook recently, (actually it’s Tot who wrinkled and puckered page 313 by jumping on the counter and sitting on it with rain-soaked paws), but staying to the back of the book where there is a section called Building Blocks.

Keller provides recipes for these confit staples that he uses to start other more complex sauces, soups or sides, or to perfectly complement a main protein. With their relatively long fridge-shelf-life, I started thinking that it would be great to have some quart containers of these beautiful building blocks around for myself. In the next few posts I’ll cover the onion confit, onion and fennel, and a surprising turkey leg confit, but here I just want to give you the garlic, because if you are going to do any confit at all, really, you should do the garlic. It’s going to become something you just want to have on hand all the time, because these spreadable garlic cloves, soaked in this beautifully infused oil will spoil you forever. And as Keller says in Bouchon, “it’s such a great flavoring device for everything from shellfish to mashed potatoes. or to be stirred into soup or spread on a baquette…the oil the garlic is cooked in can be used as well.”

You can start by grabbing about 25 heads of garlic and sitting in front of the TV catching up on your DVR’d shows, while peeling and trimming about 60 cloves. I have a box of medical supply gloves under my sink that I pull out for just such tasks. Or you can make it easy on yourself and buy a bag of already peeled garlic, which is available in most grocery stores or big-box stores these days. You may still have to trim off the knobby little root end, but starting with these cuts down the prep time by a zillion minutes. Just the same, I’ll give you a quick trick for peeling a lot of garlic at once: take the separated, unpeeled cloves and put them in a large plastic container that has a lid…or a metal bowl that you can cover with a plate. Holding down the plate to the bowl, or snapping on the lid tight, shake the heck out of those cloves of garlic, banging them around for 30 seconds or so, against the sides of the bowl and each other. When you open the lid, about 70% or more of the cloves will have their peels off or loosened in a way that will make them easy to peel.

The rest is easy. A cup of canola oil. A cup of extra-virgin olive oil. A pot. Very low flame, so low just the tiniest bubbles appear but hardly break the surface. Forty minutes later you have tender, lovely pearls of flavor. Gorgeous Garlic without the bite, or the burp. (I’m one of those people who loves garlic but my stomach doesn’t. This gently rendered version is much more subtle and easier to digest. And you can always just use the oil for the hint of garlic you are craving. Think popcorn.)

When it’s done, it will keep for a month or more, covered in oil, in the fridge.  The oil may become somewhat solid when cooled, but you can just spoon it out, along with a few cloves, throw it in a warm pan to melt, or briefly microwave. Use anywhere, on anything.

Building Blocks: Garlic Confit
Adapted from Bouchon, by Thomas Keller

Garlic Confit can be used in any recipe that calls for garlic. It is a great way to keep fresh garlic on hand and it’s infused oil on hand for flavoring everything from shellfish to mashed potatoes, or to be stirred into soup or spread on a baguette for a crostini or sandwich. The oil the garlic is cooked in can be used as well.

INGREDIENTS

1.5 cups peeled garlic cloves (about 60 cloves)
1 cup canola oil
1 cup olive oil

PROCEDURE

1. Cut off and discard the root ends of the garlic cloves. Place the cloves in a small saucepan and add enough oil to cover them by about 1 inch. None of the garlic cloes should be sticking up out of the oil.

2.Place the saucepan on a medium-low flame/heat. The cloves should cook gently: very small bubbles should come up through the oil, but the bubbles should not break the surface. The oil should not “boil”. Adjust heat down to achieve this temperature, or move the pan slightly to the side, off direct heat, as necessary. They shouldn’t brown at all, just soften.

3. Cook the garlic for about 40 minutes, stirring every 5 minutes or so, until the cloves are completely tender when pierced with the tip of a knife. Remove the saucepan from the heat and allow the garlic to cook in the oil.

4. Refrigerate garlic in oil, in an airtight container, for up to one month.

Salad days. This phrase normally refers to the time in one’s life of carefree innocence and pleasures of  youth. Let’s face it…I am not in the midst of my salad days. If the progression of a multi-course dinner were a metaphor for life…I’m more at the point of sopping up all the gravy on my plate from the entree with a crust of bread….and beginning to think of a nice cheese course or dessert to round off the whole glorious meal. But, to hell with this depressing metaphor! What I want to say is that in January, when the year is new and the old one is behind you–good or bad–you can feel the excitement of the blank slate, the promise of a fresh start, and yes, even the lightness of youth. After the heaviness of the holiday table and the trunk-fulls of baggage that gets unpacked when you hangout with your family for too many days in a row, January is a great time to make and eat salads. Indeed, in culinary school, we learned about the “composed salad” which elevates the dish to an art form with carefully thought out, individually prepared components that come together on a plate with symmetry and a balance of flavors. Thus, my offering today: mixed baby greens with crisp turkey bacon and black- pepper-cornbread croutons, dressed in a honey-clove-dijon vinaigrette.

Start with the cornbread. This is a basic, savory cornbread recipe that is moist and easily made gluten-free witht the substitution of corn flour (nothing more than finely ground cornmeal) for all-purpose wheat flour. A good helping of freshly ground pepper is a nice post-holiday workout for your arms, and I’m told pepper increases the metabolism, so I am almost positive that there will be no calorie gain from eating this. (Remember, being gullible is part of the innocence of youth…so just go with it!) This bread is a great vehicle for other savory or sweet combinations: jalepenos and cheddar, rosemary and parmesan, for instance, or add 1/4 cup more sugar and toss blueberries over the top before baking for a nice breakfast version.

Making this in a pre-heated cast-iron pan gives you a nice head start on a wonderful crust. When the batter hits the greased hot pan it begins to cook immediately, sealing the bottom. Starting this in a cold heavy pan would give you an unevenly baked bread that sticks to the bottom.

The first thing you do when this comes out of the oven is have a piece while it’s hot. In the name of research.

Now you have the energy to make the make the croutons.

Crisp  up the turkey bacon in a little olive oil, since it has no fat of it’s own, poor thing.

Mix up the shallots, dijon, ground cloves, apple cider vinegar, lemon, honey, parsley, olive oil, salt and pepper for the vinaigrette.

Lightly coat the greens by pouring the dressing along the side of the bowl, not directly on the greens, to avoid drowning them.

And finally you compose your work of art, this salad, this promise of all things fresh and clean and new…

…and feel as though anything, yes, anything is possible in the new year.

Mixed Baby Greens with Honey, Clove Vinaigrette and Peppered Corn Bread Croutons
Serves 4

INGREDIENTS

10 oz mixed baby greens (two bags)
1 ½ cups Peppered Corn Bread Croutons (see recipe for Croutons, next page)

For the dressing: ( I recommend doubling this to insure it will be enough volume to blend properly)
2 tablespoons cider vinegar
1 ½ teaspoons minced shallot
1 teaspoon Dijon mustard
½ teaspoon finely grated lemon zest
1 tablespoon lemon juice
1 ½ teaspoons honey
1/4 teaspoon ground cloves
¼ cup extra virgin olive oil
1 tablespoon flat leaf parsley
1 teaspoon thyme leaves
Salt and ground pepper to taste.

PROCEDURE

1. Place greens in a large salad bowl.

2. In a blender or small food processor, puree the vinegar, shallot, mustard, lemon zest and juice, honey and cloves. With the machine on, slowly blend in the oil. Add the parsley and thyme. Pulse until chopped. Season the dressing with salt and pepper.

3. Pour 3-4 tablespoons of finished dressing along the side of the bowl and lightly toss greens to coat. Add more dressing a tablespoon at time if needed. Divide salad among 4 plates. Distribute croutons and crisped bacon over the greens. Drizzle a bit of dressing on the croutons. Serve.

Peppered Corn Bread
Makes one 10-12” corn bread

INGREDIENTS

Canola oil, for brushing
2 cups stone ground (or fine to medium ground) cornmeal
1 cup all-purpose, unbleached flour (for gluten-free just sub this with another cup cornmeal, ground very finely in a blender or food processor to make “corn flour”. You can also purchase pre-ground Corn Flour made by Red Mill).
1 tablespoon sugar
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon salt
1-2 tablespoons freshly ground pepper (to your taste)
2 large eggs, lightly beaten
2 cups buttermilk (or use plain milk mixed with a little yogurt)
½ cup sour cream
3 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted

PROCEDURE

1. Preheat the oven to 375 degrees. Rub a 10” cast iron skillet and heat it in the oven. (If you don’t have a one, grease a 9” round cake or similar size rectangular pan with oil but there is no need to preheat it.)

2. In a bowl, whisk the cornmeal with the flour, sugar, baking powder and soda, salt, pepper. In another bowl whisk the eggs, buttermilk, sour cream and butter, then whisk into the dry ingredients until combined. Pour the batter into the skillet (or pan).

3. Bake the corn bread for about 35 minutes, until risen and golden and a toothpick inserted in the center comes out with a few moist crumbs. Let cool for 20 minutes before serving or dicing for croutons.

Note: You can add any number of things to enhance this basic cornbread, for example:

1. Add a small can of corn kernels (or a cup of frozen) to the wet ingredients. Combine

2. Add fruit like blueberries, cranberries, strawberries, but distribute them evenly over the batter after you’ve poured it into the skillet

3. For a savory cornbread to accompany dinner: Cut the sugar down to 1 tablespoon and add savory ingredients like cheddar cheese and jalapenos, or rosemary and parmesan cheese, sun-dried tomatoes, carmelized onions or anything else you can imagine!

Peppered Corn Bread Croutons

Slice long “batons” of cornbread and then cut them into 1-2 inch cubes (or rectangles, as in picture above). Place them on a Silpat-lined or lightly greased baking sheet and drizzle with olive oil. Season with a light dusting of Kosher salt. Bake in a preheated 375 degree oven for about 10 minutes, until the croutons are golden and crisp. Let cool before using.

Turkey Bacon Lardons

3-4 slices of turkey bacon
1 teaspoon of canola or olive oil

Take the slices of turkey bacon and pat them dry with a paper towel. Cut into 1 inch “lardons” or strips. Heat a skillet over medium-high heat. When hot, the oil. When the oil is shimmering, add the turkey lardons and cook until brown and crispy along the edges. Transfer lardons to a paper-towel-lined plate. Cool slightly before adding to salad.