Aphrodite, p.25
Aphrodite,
p.25
Ingredients
6 pitted prunes
1/2 cup sherry or dry white wine
1 tablespoon chopped nuts
1 pinch freshly grated nutmeg
3 strips bacon, cut in half
Preparation
Soak the prunes in the sherry for at least 8 hours, then drain on paper towels. Fill with portions of nuts that have been seasoned with nutmeg. Wrap a strip of bacon around each filled prune and bake in a hot oven for 8 to 10 minutes. Serve on cocktail toothpicks.
Salmon Temptation
Ideal with ice-cold vodka, this can be stored for several days in the refrigerator.
Ingredients
1/2 cup shredded smoked salmon fillet
2 1/2 ounces cream cheese (or approximately 1/3 block)
1 tablespoon mayonnaise
1 tablespoon butter
1 teaspoon whiskey
1 teaspoon lemon juice
Salt and pepper to taste
Red caviar for garnish (optional)
Fried potatoes or crackers
Preparation
In a food processor blend the salmon, cream cheese, mayonnaise, butter, whiskey, lemon juice, salt, and pepper to a smooth paste. Set aside for several hours so that the flavors may blend. Place in a small ceramic pot and, if your budget allows, garnish with a topping of red caviar. Serve surrounded with fried potatoes or crackers.
Celery Roquefort
The coolness of the celery balances the strong flavor of the cheese, and for anyone who likes Roquefort, this is a real treat. (I prefer it with a milder goat cheese, which is considered aphrodisiac in the Alps.)
Ingredients
2 stalks celery
1/4 cup Roquefort cheese
1 tablespoon butter
1 tablespoon chopped celery
1 tablespoon cognac
Salt and pepper (only a little)
2 tablespoons finely minced chives for garnish
Preparation
Remove the strings from the celery stalks and cut into 2 1/2-inch lengths. Chill in cold water for 2 hours. Drain and dry on paper towels. Blend the cheese, butter, chopped celery, cognac, salt, and pepper in a food processor until smooth. Fill the celery pieces and garnish with the chives. Chill before serving.
Festive Mushrooms
If you can find olive oil scented with truffles, this is your opportunity to use it. A half teaspoon will lend these mushrooms the perfect touch, but even if you don’t have the oil, they’re still delicious.
Ingredients
8 medium mushrooms
Juice of 1/2 lemon
1/2 tablespoon butter, melted
2 tablespoons liver pâté
1 teaspoon cream
Salt and pepper to taste
1 teaspoon truffled olive oil (optional)
Preparation
Wash the mushrooms in running water to remove any sand. Cut off the stems. Soak the mushrooms and stems for 10 minutes in lemon juice and water. Remove, dry, and coat with the butter. Cook for 3 minutes over high heat, then cool on paper towels. Chop the tender part of the stems and mix them with the pâté and cream. Season with salt, pepper, and oil. Use a pastry bag to fill the mushrooms with this mixture. Serve either warm or chilled.
Soups
Heating Up
Soups follow the same criteria
as those for sauces:
they are preambles to lovemaking, foreplay,
and must be prepared
while keeping all the senses in mind—
sight, smell, taste, texture, and,
in some cases, sound.
In the West it is bad form to lean over your plate
and slurp your soup,
but in the East it would be a slight to the host
to hold your spoon with
your fingertips and eat your soup without
enthusiasm or passion.
Good manners—whatever may be appropriate in the geographic location you find yourself—have their purpose; they allow us to live without offending one another. The nearly irresistible temptation to commit murder over a question of manners came close to ruining my life when I was barely twenty years old. On one of my first jobs, my boss never flushed the toilet. . . . But let’s get back to food and soup. Don’t hold back: just as freedom to whisper dirty words is an essential component of the lovers’ embrace, so, too, is noisily sipping your soup when alone with your lover. You can’t fully celebrate a stupendous soup and not make a fuss: sucking, dipping your bread, sighing, moaning, even licking the bowl if the soup is deserving. Can you make love following the rules of etiquette? You can do no less with soup. Real soup is to the body what peace is to the soul.
In soup making, as with sauces, you can give free rein to inspiration and instinct. You don’t have to be bound by instructions, the recipes are merely a point of departure, a window on inspiration. For the person who possesses the rare talent—bordering on genius—of making a superb soup, no two are ever exactly alike. Each creation is unique, although also an approximation. A recipe is like a musical score: each artist interprets it according to his or her own spirit and skills. When the lid is lifted from the soup pot and the giant wooden spoon is sunk into its steaming contents, there must be but one constant: the delicious surprise of tasting something always new.
The process of making a good soup follows the same steps as those for making love; in both, you must immerse yourself in the sensual pleasure of mixing, smelling, tasting, licking, adding, withholding, doubting, adding a little something more. . . . These recipes of Panchita’s have gone everywhere with me from the time I first married—something like a thousand years ago—but I don’t hold them holy and hope you won’t either. The philosophy of the kitchen is the same as that of gambling: if you’re not having fun, forget it. You’re not trying to reach perfection but to laugh along the way.
If you want to have the greatest success with your soups, it’s a good idea to follow one of Panchita’s culinary routines. Don’t be afraid when you read what’s to come, it’s less traumatic than it seems. From time to time—once a week, let’s say—she cooks up the stocks that will serve as the base for her soups; after they have been strained and chilled, she stores them in bottles or jars. If she plans to use them during the week, she puts them in the refrigerator, but if she wants to keep them longer than that, she freezes them. When she feels inclined to serve one of her sensual concoctions, she takes out the jar, thaws the contents, and whips up a new soup. She also uses the stocks as a base for sauces, aspics, and as the liquid for baking fish or shellfish.
These highly concentrated stocks (fonds or fumés, as they’re called in France, or caldos in Latin America) are absolutely essential in a good kitchen. Formerly they were made in special pots, and every kitchen had a contrivance for grinding bones, meat, vegetables, and shellfish that was very similar to the implements exhibited in the Museum of the Inquisition. Now making a stock is a breeze if you have a pressure cooker, but even that isn’t indispensable. They do, of course, sell concentrates in cans, powders, and cubes, which will get you through in an emergency, but concentrates are short on aphrodisiac powers and, besides, are nothing but pure sodium and artificial flavor. My macrobiotic friends tell me they cause cancer. I must admit, however, that I keep a secret hoard of these culinary aberrations hidden in the back of my pantry to use when my mother isn’t watching. When you make your own stock, you can use ingredients you would normally throw in the garbage, such as shells, chicken bones, pigs’ hooves, leftover vegetables and meats, organ meats, fish heads and tails, and much more. As I watch my mother make her stock, I delve into the depths of her personality. At bottom, she is much like the witch Robert Shekter created in his drawings, merrily levitating in her striped yellow stockings somewhere between this world, with its casseroles and sins, and Heaven, toward which the aroma of all good work rises. That’s how I would like to remember her always: bent over her steaming cauldron with a mischievous glint in her eye, tossing ingredients into the boiling water and cloaked in the aphrodisiac vapors of her brews.
We begin with Panchita’s four fundamental stocks: beef, chicken, fish, and vegetable. They should be stored in separate bottles and labeled (including the date).
Four Basic Stocks
Quantities given here are larger because the stock is for storing in the refrigerator. It’s scarcely worth the effort to make only the amount you will use for one amorous encounter, however gargantuan the lovers’ hungers may be. Do you remember the masterful scene in García Márquez’s One Hundred Years of Solitude when two epic gluttons, Aureliano Segundo and a delicate female singing teacher unjustly nicknamed The Elephant, lock horns in a tourney to prove which of the two is capable of eating more? For three days they devour cows, chickens, turkeys, whole stalks of bananas, cases of eggs, and liters of coffee, until Aureliano crumbles, on the verge of death, while the singing teacher continues to eat elegantly, never losing the rhythm of her digestion. But what were we talking about? Ah, yes, the stocks. In the large old mansion in which I spent my early childhood, there were “witches’ kitchens” contrived by my grandfather to save fuel. Inside a large chest packed with wool and sawdust, two boiling-hot pots brimming with stocks and stews were set side by side, and then the lid of the chest was closed. In that darkness and warmth the food cooked for hours and by evening was ready to be served.
If a pressure cooker is used, reduce the amount of liquid and cooking time by half. If you use an ordinary pot with a lid, be sure the lid is tight and cook at a low heat. In my grandmother’s time, the pot was set on the back of the charcoal or wood stove, and the ingredients would blend in a slow alchemy, gradually being transformed into a fundamental elixir. The slower the cooking, the richer the savor, but no one has time anymore to spend a day watching a pot, especially when it can be done in an hour or less using a pressure cooker.
If you prefer a clear stock, don’t use raw bones. At the beginning you will have to skim off the scum that forms on the surface. Go easy on the salt. Remember that as the stock boils, the liquid will be reduced, and the stock may get too salty. It’s better to add more at the end if necessary. If you think the stock is cooking down too fast, add water or white wine. After cooking, let it cool and then strain it through a cloth. If you plan to freeze the stock, first put it in the refrigerator for a few hours until fat congeals on the top; spoon that off before you divide it into jars. If you want to refrigerate it without freezing it first, don’t remove the fat because it acts as a seal until you use it (no more than three or four days).
Odalisque, egg tempera by George Tooker, 1967, Chameleon Books.
This explanation sounds intimidating. When I wrote it, it frightened even me, but doing it is much simpler than it sounds. Panchita does it automatically, like knitting without looking at her needles.
Beef Stock
This is the slowest and most complicated of the stocks, and also the one you will use least often. We recommend that you use lean meat because fat will make it cloudy. You can use leftover meat, bones, organs, and other parts, but if starting from scratch, buy the following:
Ingredients
2 pounds ribs, chopped in pieces
1 split ox tail
2 beef marrow bones (cut in pieces by the butcher; if you try to do it yourself with a hatchet, you could lose a finger)
2 large onions, quartered
8 cloves garlic
4 stalks celery
1 large carrot, cut in 2-inch pieces
Bay leaf, thyme, rosemary, coriander, salt, and whole peppercorns to taste
Preparation in a Stockpot
Put the meat and bones in a large stockpot. Add 8 cups of cold water and let it sit for a couple of hours while you make love or use the time to prepare other dishes. Boil for 30 minutes. Skim off the scum with a slotted spoon. Add the remaining ingredients and boil for 3 hours on low heat. Use your time for pursuits more interesting than watching the pot, but check the level of the liquid from time to time, adding a little water if necessary. Strain through a cloth, let cool, and, if you’re going to freeze the stock, skim off the fat.
Preparation in a Pressure Cooker
Put the meat and bones in a pressure cooker with 4 cups of water. When the valve whistles, turn the heat to the lowest setting. Cook for 1 hour. Add the vegetables and seasonings, and cook for 30 minutes. Strain through a cloth, let cool, and skim off the fat.
Chicken Stock (And All Other Fowl)
You can use throwaways of cooked or raw fowl—that is, feet, necks, wings, carcass, liver, and heart. You can also use the cooked carcass of turkey, chicken, and other birds. If not available, buy the following:
Ingredients
1 roasting hen (including feet, neck, and organs), cut in pieces
2 large carrots, chopped
1 onion, chopped
2 stalks celery
1 green pepper, cut in large slices
1 leek, sliced
2 cloves garlic
4 cloves
Bay leaf, thyme, parsley, cumin, salt, and pepper to taste
Preparation in a Stockpot
Place the fowl in a stockpot. Cover with 8 cups of water and boil for 30 minutes. Skim off the scum. Add the remaining ingredients and boil over low heat for another 30 minutes. Strain through a cloth, let cool, and skim off the fat.
Preparation in a Pressure Cooker
Place all the ingredients in a pressure cooker with 4 cups of water. After the valve whistles, simmer on low heat for 30 minutes. Strain through a cloth, cool, and skim off the fat.
Fish Stock
This is the most aphrodisiac of all the stocks. You can use uncooked fish heads and tails, or shells of shrimp, lobster, and other crustaceans, raw or cooked. If you don’t have them, buy the following:
Ingredients
2 fish heads and tails
3 cups water
1 onion, quartered
1 carrot, cut in large pieces
1 stalk celery
2 cloves garlic
1 cup dry white wine
Juice and peel of 1 large lemon
Bay leaf, parsley, cilantro, pepper, and salt to taste
Preparation in a Stockpot
Boil the fish in the water for 15 minutes. Skim off the scum. Add the remaining ingredients and boil for 45 minutes, covered. Strain through a cloth and cool.
Preparation in a Pressure Cooker
Place all the ingredients in a pressure cooker. After the valve whistles, simmer on low heat for 30 minutes. Strain through a cloth and cool.
Vegetable Stock
After you strain the stock, don’t use the vegetables that are left for erotic games but for a delicious sauce. Blend in a processor and add one cup of sliced mushrooms that have been sautéed in butter and one teaspoon of lemon juice.
But back to the stock. You can use all the vegetables you didn’t eat during the week even if they’re not terribly fresh, but you must still wash them carefully. Or buy the following:
Ingredients
1 leek, cut in large slices
1 onion, quartered
1 turnip, sliced in rounds
2 medium zucchinis, sliced
4 cloves garlic
2 large carrots, diced
4 stalks celery
1 cup mushrooms
2 large tomatoes, quartered
1 red or green pepper, seeded and cut in large sections
Bay leaf, thyme, rosemary, and sweet basil to taste
1 pinch each of pepper, cumin, and paprika
Preparation in a Stockpot
Cook on low heat for 1 hour with the lid tightly closed. Strain through a cloth and let cool.
Preparation in a Pressure Cooker
Place all the ingredients in a pressure cooker. After the valve whistles, simmer on low heat for 30 minutes. Strain through a cloth and let cool.
Consommé
A consommé is as clear and transparent as a kiss on the forehead, and ideal for preceding a strong main dish. To assure a clear broth, drop in the white of an egg and its crushed shell while the consommé is still boiling. Impurities will cling to them and are then easy to remove with a slotted spoon. After the broth has cooled, strain it through a cloth placed inside a colander. To add body to a clear consommé, add 1 tablespoon of unflavored gelatin dissolved in stock.
Consommé Bacchus
So named because it is recommended for restoring well-being after a night on the town and for fortifying lovers at midnight.
Ingredients
1 tablespoon butter
1 tablespoon grated onion
1 small clove garlic, crushed
2 cups Beef Stock
Salt and black pepper to taste
2 tablespoons sherry
2 eggs
Preparation
This consommé should be served very hot, so it is best to set 2 soup bowls in the warming oven as you prepare it. Melt the butter and sauté the onion and garlic for 2 minutes over medium heat. Add the stock, check the seasoning, and add salt and pepper to taste. Bring to a boil, add the sherry, and remove from the heat. Break an egg into each bowl. Pour the consommé over them and serve immediately.












