If you were to peek into my fridge, you’d see the typical kitchen staples; milk, eggs, butter, and cheese. Then if you looked on the top shelf, you’d encounter a vast array of tubs and jars filled with not so ordinary ingredients that I impulsively grabbed during trips to the market. You never know what you’re going to find up there. My most recent adventure has been into the world of miso. Miso is amazing and trust me, it’s not like the complimentary, cloudy, dishwater soup that you get at cheap sushi joints, with floating cubes of tofu in it. Miso comes in the form of a thick, flavorful paste used for sauces, stocks, or marinades.

This traditional Japanese seasoning is made by fermenting rice, barley, and soybeans with salt and a special fungus called kojikin. The fermenting process, and the decisions made during this process are very similar to wine making. Hundreds of contributing factors create different tastes and aromas to the final product. I chose a red miso that has been aged for one year in four ton wood vats. The result is an earthier taste with some dried fruit aromas. I dissolved a few tablespoons of the red miso paste into  some white wine and sugar to create my marinade that had a texture of cake batter (you don’t need any salt because the miso paste itself is relatively salty).

Hake is a fish that is very similar to Cod and is native of Ireland. Some say that it followed the immigrants over and is now most abundant off the coasts of Cape Cod. The texture is almost identical but it has a slightly sweeter taste to the flesh.

This fish was the perfect choice to suck up all of the flavors in the marinade in roughly forty-five minutes. While the Hake was enjoying its Miso spa treatment, I started making my extremely phallic, cucumber-horseradish sauce. Fresh horseradish is one of my favorite roots because of its sweet taste that lures you in before it tomahawks you with nasal cleansing heat. Its similar to wasabi, in that it can be eaten raw or more typically grated into a paste (or into an awesome Bloody Mary).

 I peeled and seeded the cucumbers before I tossed them into a food processor with organic Greek yogurt, salt, pepper, and tons of lemon zest. The yogurt loses some of its thickness but turns a beautiful pastel green color.

 I then grated in some of the fresh horseradish, giving it some fire which is quickly cooled down by the cucumber-beautifully balanced. Marinaded meat and fish make it hard to obtain a nice sear, so I decided to broil the fish with some black sesame seeds on top. The extra sugar in the marinade created a sticky crust on the fish, protecting the inside from drying out. I had a dream the other night about this cold salad that I wanted to create, and this was my chance to test it out.

 I thinly diced up three bunches of broccolini (the broccoli with thelong stems resembling asparagus, and the tiny florets) and tossed them in a bowl with some sliced, red jalapeno for some heat. I dressed the raw salad with rice wine vinegar, sesame oil, sesame seeds, and a splash of soy and lemon juice. The combination of flavors were intense… the heat from the jalapeno, and the nutty flavors in the oil and seeds, paired nicely with the bitter, raw broccoli.

 I had plenty leftover to which I added 2 cans of tuna for tuna sandwiches the next day (the sandwich was gold medal worthy, if sandwich making was an Olympic sport). When the fish was ready, I plated it with the cold sauce and cold salad which was a nice contrast in temperature.

 I chose an interesting wine to serve with this meal, with a back label that resembles the top shelf of my refrigerator. The 2008 Clayhouse Adobe White is a blend of seven different grapes; 22% Viognier, 18% Sauvignon Blanc, 17% Grenache Blanc, 16% Roussanne, 6% Chardonnay, and 5% Chenin Blanc. That only equals 84% you say…. what is the last 16% of juice in this hodge podge bottle? A grape that is named after Super Mario’s crush. 16% of Princess is the final blending grape that technically is not allowed to be listed on the label because it is not yet an approved varietal by the federal government.

This wine has so much going on, from orange blossom aromas to pumpkin pie spice in the finish. It’s medium in body and has a beautiful golden color to it. Tons of apple and stone fruit fill your mouth, followed by a creamy finish with a hint of residual sugar. The wine reminded me of the miso paste…. rich and concentrated with boatloads of different layers of flavors.

The red miso gave the fish a unique sweet and earthy flavor without over powering it. The hake was still moist and flaky in the center, but every bite  of the crust added a new sensation with a little Asian flair to it. The chilled sauce was refreshing and kept the meal light and healthy. If miso paste is too adventurous for you, at the very least, try this spicy broccolini tuna salad or the Clayhouse Adobe White… the Princess is worth it.

Braised oxtail is exactly what it sounds like… slow cooked tail meat from a giant ox. Turns out, this tough, gelatinous cut of meat is packed with the most intense beef flavor than any other part of a cow. When it’s slow cooked for hours, the connective tissue and meat breaks down slowly leaving you with fork tender, rich, flavorful beef. Don’t be fooled, this isn’t just a fly swatter, it’s a foodies’ dream.

I braised the oxtail in a reduction of two bottles of red Zinfandel and beef broth. By reducing the wine first, it concentrates the bold fruit flavors as well as burns off the boozy taste. A brunoise of classic mirepoix (carrots, onions, celery) were sweated down and a handful of aromatics were tossed in (thyme, parsley stems, and bay leaves) before I added my secret twist ingredient.

 I love incorporating different ingredients to braises and stews just to give it that underlying aroma or flavor that you can almost put your finger on, but can’t quite figure out what it is.

 One teaspoon of cinnamon and some freshly grated nutmeg did the trick. It didn’t overpower the beef, but contributed to the richness of the sauce, giving it some Moroccan flair.

With the pot of tail in the oven and lots of time to waste, I fooled around with some hors dourve ideas. I roasted some whole garlic cloves with some baby heirloom tomatoes and extra virgin olive oil. Whenever you want to draw serious flavor out of an ingredient… roast it. The skins of the tomatoes pop and then start to wither down into a wrinkly pile of condensed tomato goodness.

 I sliced up some mini baguette into a crostini and spread a healthy dose of tangy goat cheese on the top before smothering it with the roasted tomatoes and sweet garlic cloves. A sprinkle of chunky sea salt and a drizzle of truffle oil made these bite sized snacks unforgettable.

When the oxtail was getting tender, I scraped all of the meat off the bones and discarded them. I poured all of the braising liquid into a fine mesh strainer and returned it to the pot to reduce and concentrate even more beef flavor while I shredded the meat with two forks.

 The rich aromas of meat and sweet spices wafted into my nose and it was tempting to not sneak a few heaping forkfulls of beef before I even boiled the water for the gnocchi.

I bought some golf ball sized potato gnocci at Whole Foods which only needed a few minutes in some boiling water before they were soft and tender. These gnocchi were especially fluffy and not too dense which was nice because I could eat more before entering a food coma.

I tossed the gnocci in with the oxtail ragu and the silky sauce clung to the starchy balls perfectly. I chose to pair this dish with the new vintage of one of my favorite Italian reds. The Umberto Cesari Sangiovese Riserva has been a staple on my table for years.

 This wine is everything a good wine from the Emilia-Romagna region should be; lots of fruit on the nose followed by some spicy cherry fruit, dried herbs and porcini mushroom flavors. It has great acidity and weight which was important for going head to head with the hearty ragu. The rustic and powerful red held its own and was a great match with the dish.

 Most wines from the Emila-Romagna region are bold and robust because the cuisine in that part of the country is pretty hearty. Lots of filled pastas, and heavy ragus come from this region. This classic dish emphasizes the fact that Italians use every single part of the animal and make even the strange parts taste delicious. So next time, you’re on your way to the supermarket, pick up some tail.

With all the hustle and bustle of recently getting engaged, this is the first time my fiance and I had some time to get back into the kitchen. Of course I decided to make something that requires getting our hands dirty and put her in fear of getting her newly adorned bling messy. 

A roulade is French term derived from the phrase “to roll”, and is typically a cut of beef that is rolled around a filling of some sort. Pretty much every cuisine has their version of this classic dish, from the Italian Braciole to the simple Japanese Maki Roll. Siobhan is a pro at rolling and trussing so I put her to work stirring the risotto and getting the butchers twine ready while I pounded the meat.

The thick slab of top round beef looked like a place mat after I was done with it. The pounding not only tenderizes this tougher cut of beef but makes it more accessible to rolling and stuffing. The stuffing consisted of shallots, garlic, spinach, Panko bread crumbs, pine nuts, and shavings of fresh Pecorino Romano cheese.

It’s important to let the stuffing rest and cool before spreading an even layer over the beef (and shave the cheese on after it cools). I think Siobhan was a butcher in a previous life because she trussed the roulade like a champ, slip-knot, after slip-knot, without skipping a beat. It wasn’t until we were cleaning up afterwards that she let me in on her secret; apparently the technique is very similar to a sewing motion.

 Once the beef was secured, we seasoned and seared it in a sizzling hot roasting pan before popping it into a 350 degree oven.

 The risotto was on the stove, getting constant splashes of hot veal stock, sucking it dry, and calling for more liquid in steady intervals. As soon as the first grain of arborio rice started to get al dente, I took the pot off the heat and added a handful of Parmesan cheese, a pinch of saffron, and a _____ of butter.

 The lid goes on, and the risotto can rest on the back of the stove while we waited for the roulade to come to temperature.

I must admit, I have never roasted a radish before but I read about roasted radishes in a book that I’m reading. “Nasty Bits”, is a compilation of short chapters and food related rants by famous chef and author Anthony Bourdain.

He talked about eating roasted radishes in a French bistro with nothing more than a sprinkle of sea salt. Sure enough, the experience was just as he had described it. The pop of the tiny, shriveled orb released juices that tasted like clarified butter and got me drooling all over myself.

When the roulade was medium in temperature, we removed it from the oven and started snipping off the twine while it rested.

 I opened a bottle of the 2007 Porrera Black Slate Priorat because this was their debut vintage to celebrate our debut engagement blog dinner. This wine comes from the Priorat region of Spain, which is considered to be the best of the best for Spanish grape growing regions. It is a blend of Garnacha and Carinena grapes grown in the tiny village of Porrera, a area of Priorat where the winemaker, Joan Sangenius was raised.

As you can tell from the initial quaff and first sip, this isn’t some hot shot dabbling in winemaking and debuting their first wine. This is a serious wine from a man who comes from a family that has been making wine for over 200 years. The inky, jet black color is intriguing and the nose is full of blueberry and spice. Ripe flavors, and sweet, dark berries fill the palate seductively followed by a young, sharp finish.

 This wine is would benefit immensely from five to ten years of cellaring. The rich, full bodied wine had nuances of black licorice that paired nicely with the outer charred crust of the roast and the smooth mouth feel was harmonious with the tender, inner layers of beef. The layers of flavor in the stuffing hit your taste buds, one after another, culminating in a huge bite of creamy, cheesy risotto. The roulade was devoured quickly but there was plenty of extra risotto for us to take to work the next day… that’s just how we roll.

I like to take a certain ingredient and showcase it in different ways depending on the season or mood that I’m in. The other night I wanted to show off the versatility of scallops by making a winter preparation as well as a summer dish. I found these beautiful, fresh sea scallops at my local fish monger that smelled clean and had a pinkish-orange hue to them. Try to avoid buying scallops that are previously frozen because they’ll create all sorts of problems for you if you’re searing them or making ceviche.

I had plenty of time in the kitchen so I concentrated on the tiny details in order to make the presentation look as appealing as possible. You eat with your eyes first and then with your stomach…but the food still has to taste good. I get very annoyed when I’m served a plate in a restaurant where the food is stacked two feet high and has all sorts of bells and whistles on it only to reveal that the actual food taste like garbage.

When it comes down to it though, we are very visual people, and eye catching food is appealing food. Look at the recent popularity of the Food Network and culinary reality shows over the years. People love food, they love looking at food, and they love looking at celebrity chefs that make the food. Food porn has officially swept the nation. I can’t get on an airplane without buying the latest copy of Gourmet, or Bon Appetit because the huge, close up of the sticky short ribs on the cover made my stomach rumble. People even buy cookbooks to look at the pictures with no intention of ever searing a piece of tuna or blanching a vegetable.

Americans know what foie gras and a perfectly poached egg look like but most of them have never tasted it. I admit, I have fallen into the abyss of food porn myself, and I love for my food to look appealing; but my food still tastes great (or else my friends are just being nice).

For my summer preparation, I made a quick ceviche, which is a Peruvian dish that is never actually cooked. There are millions of variations of ceviche but in its simplest state, it is raw seafood that is “cooked”, or marinated in citrus juice. The acid in the citrus changes the enzymes in the protein and gives it the flavor, texture, and consistency of cooked seafood or shellfish….magic! Now depending on where in Latin America you go, there are all sorts of other components of ceviche.

 I chose to stick to the basics, and marinated the scallops (which I sliced thin, so that more surface area would hit the citrus and would be done quicker) in fresh lime juice, with diced jalapenos, fresh cilantro, sliced red onion, salt and pepper.

 This is a classic combination that tastes great because all of the flavors play nicely together. After about 20 minutes in the marinade, you slowly see the transparent scallops firm up and become white. The refreshing pop of the citrus juice wakes you up and the subtle heat stimulates your palate; a perfect snack on a warm summer day (I must have thought I was still in Florida). For my winter preparation, I made a puree of celery root for my seared scallop to rest on. Celery root is the ugly vegetable that you usually walk by and grimace at in the supermarket; it looks like a dirty softball that your dog buried under the shrubs in the backyard three years ago.

Don’t judge a book by its cover. Once all of the skin is peeled off, the white inside has a distinct flavor that is extremely memorable yet subtle. I diced the root up and boiled it in milk until it was soft.

I then transferred everything to the blender and pureed everything until it was silky smooth. After I removed the foot from the scallop (the foot helps the muscle attached itself to the shell and it has to be discarded), I seared it in a screaming hot pan to achieve a beautiful, caramelized crust that protects the delicate center. I plated the seared scallop atop the silky, celery root puree and sprinkled it with some red quinoa. I also garnished the shellfish with a wedge of pink grapefruit to balance out the rich, earthy flavors and to add some acidity to the dish. Because I had two, very different dishes, I needed to choose a versatile wine that had some qualities that would enhance each side of my plate.

I chose the 2007 Bonny Doon Le Cigare Blanc from California. The wine is named after an alien aircraft that looked like a giant white cigar, that was seen flying over France’s Chateneuf du Pape region. Sure enough, the wine is a blend of white grapes from that region of France. A mix of Grenache Blanc, and Roussanne make this interesting white scratch your head. It’s medium bodied and has hints of tropical fruit and banana on the nose. On the palate, it’s slightly creamy until the finish kicks in with bursts of pineapple that seems to linger forever. It was very pleasant with both dishes but I preferred it with the seared scallop. The vibrant, bleach-blonde colored juice in the wine glass was visually appealing and made me want another glass.

I judge a good burger by how many times I have to wipe the juice off of my elbows… among other things. I love experimenting with different ground meats, cheeses, toppings, condiments, and serving vessels. The possibilities are endless when it comes to burger building; which is a science in itself. I love caramelized onions because they show you how an ingredient can become something completely different with just a little heat and patience.

The strong, pungent raw onion releases its natural sugars very slowly and transforms into rich, sweet,  glob of melt-in-your-mouth goodness. Last night I took caramelized onions to a whole new level. Not only did I cook them in rendered bacon fat, I let them overcaramelize  for over an hour in my dutch oven. Once they were dark brown in color I added some red wine, balsamic vinegar, sugar, and black pepper. I let everything slowly reduce for another half hour until what was left in the pot was a sticky, sweet bacon-onion marmalade.

I had to hold my girlfriend back because she was a repeat offender of sneaking spoonfuls when I wasn’t looking. The underlying smoky bacon flavor combined with the sweet onions and tang of the balsamic reduction was just what I was looking for to spread atop my oversized beef patty.

I always choose a ground chuck or a ground beef that has at least 20% fat and season it liberally; in this case, I tossed in some finely minced garlic as well. The next step is the cheese and for me this is a huge decision because I am a cheese fanatic. If I was stranded on a deserted island I’d take a wheel of stinky Linburger over a gallon of water in a heartbeat. Because I spent so long in the kitchen creating this should-be-everyday condiment, I decided to let it shine and keep the cheese in the background.

 I picked a simple grated Gruyere because it’s an excellent melting cheese with tons of flavor. The final step is choosing the ensemble that will adorn and cradle the beef patty. I have always been a huge supporter of the sandwich-sized english muffin, but I came across some Italian ciabatta bread, still warm from the bakery. I buttered and toasted the sponge-like loaf which awaited the arrival of the bloody rare beef, ready to soak up all the flavor.

I topped the finished product with a tiny handful of baby arugula to add some freshness to this handful of heart attack. In order to get my jaws around the first bite, I needed to be wearing a poncho, because the juice ran down my chin and forearms until I didn’t care anymore. As soon as all of the flavors came together in that magical first bite, my physical appearance and hygiene were thrown out the window.

I paired the burgers with Harpoon Brewery’s 100 Barrel Series Island Creek Oyster Stout. I must say, when I heard about this beer, I was extremely skeptical even though I am a huge oyster fan. I love a nice pint of Guinness with some raw oysters more then the next guy, but I never thought I’d ever taste a beer that was brewed with the actual oysters in it!

 The roasted barley and chocolate rye malts give this brew a rich and smoky nose to it with just the slightest hint of brinyness. It has a gentle mouthfeel that isn’t too over bearing and finishes with strong minerality and a lingering flavor of burnt pumpernickel toast. I really enjoyed this pint with the burger because the roasted barley and the smoky-sweet marmalade were a perfect pair. If only my hands weren’t so messy I would have been able to get better grip on the pint glass.

After a breif stint in sunny Florida, it appears that we brought some of the nice weather back home with us. The teasing sunshine inspired me to pop open a bottle of one of my favorite Sicilian reds that I recently wrote an article about. I have always been a fan of Sicily’s melting pot cuisine with influences from all over the globe combined with local island fare. I decided to roast a chicken stuffed with tons of citrus and sprinkled with dried chili flakes. Citrus trees grow all over the island and are used frequently in the cooking.

Agrodolce translates to “sweet and sour”, which is a huge part of the cuisine as well. Balance is something that the Sicilian culture thrives on, whether it’s sweet and sour, hot and cold, or soft and crunchy. I made agrodolce onions by sauteing pearl onions in a reduction of white wine vinegar and sugar. I also tossed in some golden raisins at the end to add some texture and an extra pop of gooey sweetness. Here is the article that I submitted for our monthly wine newsletter…

Floating all alone in the Mediterranean Sea, the island of Sicily has long been the black sheep of quality Italian winemaking regions. In the past, the tradition of bulk winemaking has caused oenophiles to turn up their noses and drink their Brunello. However, in 2005, a new generation of winemakers infiltrated the vineyards and achieved the islands’ first D.O.C.G attribution. Joining the other all-stars such as Brunello  di Montalcino, Barolo, and Barbaresco, the Cerasuolo di Vittoria is the Yao Ming of Italian viticulture. It’s about time since the land is sprawled with vineyards and has a climate similar to that of Napa Valley. Sicily produces more wine than Chile and Argentina combined; and now they have the celebrity status to prove it. The Denominazione di Origine Controllata e Garantita or D.O.C.G is only applied to Italian wines which have distinctive signs of high quality, determined by vineyard and wine-making techniques (overall less than 8% of Italian wine production); not bad for a region known for their Marsala.

 As is true for every region of the country, the local wine compliments the style of the cuisine. The bold and muscular Nebbiolo from the north can stand face to face with a rich braise such as Osso Bucco. The 2008 Planeta Cerasuolo di Vittoria is much more versatile, which it has to be, to take on the circus-like cuisine of Sicily. The island’s crucial stop along the Mediterranean trade routes provided the cuisine and culture a matchless blend of Greek, French, Spanish, Arab and African influences. The healthy local fare is beyond unique, combining sweet and spicy flavors with the catch of the day.

The 2008 Planeta Cerasuolo di Vittoria is composed of 60% Nero d’Avola and 40% Frappato. Cerasuolo, meaning “cherry red”, perfectly describes the color of the wine. The aromatic Frappato fills your nose with sweet, strawberry candy and gently introduces you to the richer, earthier Nero d’Avola. This medium bodied red has silky smooth tannins and is purely seductive on the palate. The playful juiciness combined with the Burgundian sophistication makes this a unique, yet incredibly likeable wine. The natural acidity makes this a great food wine that will pair well with spicy dishes, or throw a quick chill on it in the summer and serve it with grilled seafood.

While laying out on the beach relaxing, I had plenty of time to come up with exciting new recipes for blog posts so stay tuned for some creative ideas, and always delicious wines.

When the meteorologists were predicting Snowmageddon, I was making plans for the first Iron Chef Dinner Party. Amidst all of the school and work cancellations, I sent out an email to seven friends who live within walking distance to kitchen stadium (my apartment) in case there really was a blizzard and they needed to trudge home. The email was explaining the rules of the dinner party that were based upon one of my favorite television shows, Iron Chef. The reason I love this show so much is because I love food and I’m a competition junkie.

 Every night when I cook, I compete with myself and I do NOT like to lose. I am extremely hard on myself when something doesn’t come out as I had planned, just ask my girlfriend. I didn’t want to single any one of my friends out and make them the challenger because that wouldn’t make for a fun night, so I structured the dinner party so that we would all be on the same team, competing against the food. I, the chairman, picked the secret main ingredient (the protein) that the entire meal was based upon, which the guests had no idea what it was until they walked in my door.

The other seven guests had one job, and that was to each bring one ingredient to the party. This ingredient could be a fruit, vegetable, herb, spice, nut, juice, syrup…anything you could imagine. It was left up to them to go out and decide whether they want to play it safe, or throw me a curve ball. I knew that they were all shopping on their own, but I was still a little nervous that I would have to make a dish with seven knobs of ginger.

 It’s really a crap shoot, and stirs up the anxiety, waiting in an empty kitchen with eight pieces of protein, not knowing what direction the meal is headed. Earlier in the day, after I sent out the email, I went over to Yankee Lobster and grabbed eight fresh pieces of salmon that were thick and firm. I wanted to choose a fish for the secret ingredient and I figured that salmon was the most versatile because it’s slightly heavier and can match well with a wide variety of ingredients and flavors. A light, flaky white fish wouldn’t stand a chance if someone brought me curry powder or anything strong. I was happy with the secret ingredient but still a little nervous because I had no idea what I was going to do with it; if someone brought me cheese, I was screwed.

 I went home to portion out the fish and get the other kitchen staples ready while I waited for the guests to arrive bearing gifts. Soon enough, they walked in one by one carrying their grocery bags and unveiled their mystery ingredients. When we had everything laid out on the counter top, we realized we had one really challenging task at hand. The ingredients that we had to work with were:

Secret Ingredient: Salmon

1) Leeks

2) Sesame Seeds

3) Black Beans

4) Shiitake Mushrooms

5) Pomegranate Juice

6) Plantains

7) Wonton Wrappers

I was adamant about not crowding the plate with loads of ingredients, so we decided on creating two dishes, which each couple would share. This worked out well because in my head, there were two completely different themes to all of these ingredients, one of them being Asian and the other one Caribbean. The plantains and the wonton wrappers threw me for a loop because I had never really worked with plantains and Wonton wrappers had everyone thinking about ravioli.

Plantains have a flavor similar to bananas but they are hard and starchy; that sweet banana flavor comes out through cooking them. After about fifteen minutes of endless conceptualizing, I left the think-tank and began prepping the ingredients, getting pans hot, and preheating the oven. I sprinkled the plantains with coarse sea salt and dried cumin and threw them into the oven to roast. We cleaned the leeks and got them into a pot to braise with butter and stock.

I diced up some shallots and started reducing the pomegranate juice on the back burner while searing some shiitakes on the front burner. The controlled chaos set in and ideas started to come together while cheese and wine was devoured in the background. We decided to julienne the wonton wrappers and flash fry them in some vegetable oil to make for a crispy topping for the salmon. The wrapper dough sizzles and curls as soon as it hits the hot oil. I dusted the crunchy wontons with some salt and dried ginger, and set them aside for plating.

 The food processor made an appearance after the plantains were soft and caramelized because we made a roasted plantain and black bean puree, laced with some cumin and lime juice. This was going to serve as the base for one of our salmon dishes. The other dish was going to be Asian inspired, with sesame salmon on top of braised leeks and shiitake mushrooms.

I seasoned the fish and began pan roasting them which became a problem because I only have four burners. Pots and pans were getting thrown all over the place, competing for flames and oven space.

We lined up the eight plates in a row and began the assembly period once the fish was almost finished. The teamwork kicked in, and the puree was being spread into ring molds, the mushrooms were seared, and the reduction was thickening; it was like I had sixteen hands. I plated the salmon atop the puree and drizzled the thick, syrupy pomegranate reduction over the fish; somewhere Bobby Flay was sweating.

Then we moved on the next dish. We sprinkled the toasted sesame seeds all over the crust of the seared salmon and plated it over the braised leeks that were soft, and buttery. The shiitakes added an earthy quality and the crispy wontons were a great contrast in texture to the moist fish; eat your heart out Morimoto.

For the first time all night, the entire apartment was dead silent. The clang of the pots and pans had stopped, the roar of the oven was humming, and the loud, boisterous chatter had ceased until every plate was licked clean. Three hours prior, each person only knew one thing… what was in their bag, and now they had two beautifully composed dishes in their stomach. This is a great idea for your next dinner party because it brings everyone together, forces them to be creative, and it’s easy on your budget.

“ALLEZ CUISINE!”

What could be more romantic than a big pot of snails??? Those slimy creatures that peek their heads out of dirty shells and eat decaying leaves are actually the perfect Valentines Day feast. Snails and oysters are considered to be an aphrodisiac; a term derived from Aphrodite, the Greek Goddess of love.

An aphrodisiac is any type of stimulation thought to arouse sexual excitement, which many foods have been known to do based on their appearance, savory taste, or odor. Some of the most common aphrodisiacs are oysters, snails, truffles, chocolate, garlic, and of course, wine.

 Last night I decided to start Valentines Day early and made a baked escargot and oyster gratin. Escargot is a classic French dish of baked snails usually bathing in tons of butter and garlic. If you’ve never tried a snail before, they’re not as chewy as they look. When baked in the gratin they literally melt in your mouth and are high in protein (around 15%), and extremely low in fat (except they’re usually cooked in butter).

 I started off by making a compound butter in the food processor. I diced up tons of garlic and shallot and combined it with softened butter and loads of fresh parsley. This gave the butter a pleasant, light green hue to it which I spread throughout the inside of my new, mini-Le Crusset baking dish.

When I first came across the canned snails and oysters, I admit I was a little creeped out but once I opened them, they weren’t as funky as I had expected.

 It’s important to rinse the snails under cold running water before cooking them to remove any dirt or grit. Once the snails and mollusks were clean, I arranged them in the buttered baking dish with cubes of Gruyere cheese and topped them with a breadcrumb-Parmesan mixture, and a splash of lemon juice.

 Gruyere is a great melting cheese and is great for this dish because underneath the crispy breadcrumb crust, the gooey Gruyere gets nice and stringy.

I threw it into a 400 degree oven and popped a bottle of 2007 Maison William Fevre Chablis “Champs Royaux” from Burgundy, France. This wine is a blend of different Chardonnay grapes from many of Fevre’s terrific growing sites. It’s not a single vineyard wine but it drinks like a Grand Cru for a fraction of the cost. The Chardonnay spends most of its time in stainless steel tanks as opposed to oak barrels, which makes it lighter and more dry compared to those buttery California Chards.

This wine is refreshingly crisp, with loads of minerality and Granny Smith apple flavors.

The chalky, limestone soil is present in the finish along with some honey and herbal notes. This vibrant white is a perfect pairing for the briny snails and slashes through the buttery sauce with elegance. While the gratin was in the oven, I took out some creamy goat cheese and warmed up a French baguette to use as a sponge to clean out the baking dish.

When the Parmesan and breadcrumbs became golden brown, and the snails were bubbling away, it was showtime. We started spooning the little shell-less creatures onto slices of warm bread and the result was euphoric.

 The buttery, garlic sauce was heavenly combined with the cheesy crust. We sat at the table for hours, drinking the fine White Burgundy and dipping our crust into the dish at a snail’s pace.

Seth Kunin has been making wine in California since 1998, and he pays tribute to the Old World Chateauneauf-du-Pape with his 2007 Pape Star from the Central Coast. This wine is a blend of Grenache, Mourvedre, and Syrah just like in the northern Rhone Valley, France except it’s expressive of the Central Coast of California; which gives it a slightly modern twist.

 Most of the time, I pair a wine with whatever I’m making for dinner, but tonight I picked the wine first. I had some extra time, so I walked through Whole Foods with no concrete plans, just an idea of the style and character of the Pape Star.

I strolled past the meat counter and these beautiful, pink veal chops immediately caught my eye. Veal is slightly more delicate than beef and would be a match made in heaven for the medium bodied red.

The Pape Star has smooth tannins and tons of cherry, raspberry and currant flavors with a hint of spice in the finish from the Mourvedre. It’s extremely smooth and gentle on the palate and has some bright acidity, reminiscent of blood oranges.

I wanted to showcase the plump veal chops by limiting the other ingredients I put on the plate, so I stuck with roasted yams to add an element of sweetness to the dish. I made a rich Dijon Mustard sauce freshened up by a fine chiffonade of fresh basil.

The combination of basil and mustard is something new that I had never tried but it worked very nicely with the succulent veal and the char from the grill. It reminded me of Dijon mustard sloshed on a charred Italian sausage from a cart outside of Fenway, only slightly more elegant.

On my way to checkout, I walked past a basket of heirloom tomatoes that were all different sizes, shapes and colors and I just couldn’t resist. I grabbed a bunch of them along with some blood oranges to make a salad.

There are millions of different varieties of heirloom tomatoes (too many to keep track of) with all sorts of funny names that sound like CareBear characters; I think I grabbed some Green Zebras and Big Rainbows.

I sliced the multi-colored orbs nice and thin, and showered them with blood orange zest, blood orange supremes, extra virgin olive oil, and a sprinkle of fancy sea salt crystals. The essential oils in the zest brought the juicy tomatoes to life and added an interesting flavor to the salad. I seasoned the chops and headed out into the cold to throw them on the grill.

They only took about 5 minutes on each side before they were medium in temperature, and I brought them in to rest. The chops were very well marbled for such a young animal and they were loaded with flavor, giving the Pape Star a run for its money as the star of the night.

 Cooking is like therapy for me. Whenever I have a long, stressful day, I come home, turn down the oven and slow cook something for hours. Not only is slow cooking beneficial for the protein, but it’s also therapeutic for the mind and soul. The result is a tender and juicy piece of meat, along with a  home-cooked feeling of comfort and satisfaction. Last night, I made a slow roasted Porchetta, which is a culinary tradition in Tuscany.

 There are many variations of Porchetta but it’s basically a whole pig or boneless pork roast that is seasoned with garlic, rosemary, fennel seeds and other herbs, which is then slow cooked for hours; it was introduced to Americans as “Italian pulled pork”. In Italy, Porchetta is sold by pitchmen out of carts or vans during holidays and public gatherings; basically, the Italian version of an ice cream truck that pulls up to your little league games.

The slow cooking (225 degrees) process keeps the meat moist and gets the outer layers of fat nice and crispy. I bought an end cut of loin and liberally seasoned it with salt, fresh cracked black pepper, garlic, rosemary, sage and toasted fennel seeds that I pulsed in the food processor.

 If this wasn’t a last minute dinner idea, I would have marinated it for a couple of days in this mixture to really intensify the flavor. I was really screwing with my oven’s mind by cranking it up to 550 degrees to start in order to get a nice crust on the pork, then turning it down to 225 degrees for the remainder of the cooking process. The whole process takes about two hours, so I had plenty of time to relax and get everything else prepped. I made a rich sauce with a reduction of Calvados (Apple Brandy), beef broth, shallots and butter.

The light brown, silky textured sauce was reminiscent of a Cognac-laced gravy. I then sauteed some shaved fennel and celery to serve with the pork, along with some caramelized shallots and bing cherries for a touch of added sweetness.

I paired this dish with one of my favorite Tuscan wines, the 2006 Avignonesi Vino Nobile di Montepulciano because its flavors remind me of the ingredients I used to create this meal. The wine is jumping with acidity and emits tons of fresh cherry aromas on the nose. The tannins are smooth and the wine is rich with underlying hints of fresh herbs, licorice(fennel), and spice.

 It’s medium bodied and low in alcohol which pairs perfectly with the succulent roasted pig.

 The wine is made up of primarily Sangiovese (locally known as Prugnolo gentile), and a blend of a few other locally grown grapes, followed by minimum two years in oak barrels. After the internal meat thermometer read about 155 degrees, I removed the pork from the oven and let it rest for about 10 minutes, allowing the internal juices to recirculate.

Two thick slabs of melt-in-your-mouth-pork later and my day was instantly improved. The minced garlic on the outside of the meat slowly caramelized over the two hour stint in the oven and balanced nicely with the piney rosemary and mouth-watering pork fat. Plenty of leftovers made for an amazing Porchetta Panini for lunch today; maybe one day someone will start driving a Porchetta truck like in the old country. Forget the children, I’d be the one running down the street after it.