Last week, my 27-year-old daughter, Kattie, arrived for a short four-day visit. Sure enough, food was the topic. Kattie is now gluten-free, or as her friend Pete calls her, GG (gluten girl). It's mind-blowing, discovering how much of the food we consume is filled with gluten! From jelly to soy sauce to bread to salad dressing to ice cream to hair products and make-up, wow! Banter started in the car (best place to hold your kid hostage) on an adventure to Bob’s Red Mill in Milwaukie, Oregon where she purchased a package of Gluten Free Pizza Crust Mix.
Class began as Kattie adorned herself with Maggie, my favorite apron, then proceeded to mix the crust, let it rise 20 minutes, and place it carefully on a hot pizza stone, back in the oven, for 13 minutes. Hot bread goodness filled the air as she removed it from the oven, topped it with shredded mozzarella cheese, sliced black olives, marinated artichoke hearts, fresh sliced tomato and another sprinkling of cheese. Back to the oven for eighteen minutes, salad dressed and wine poured. Scrumptious!
We planned to spend the next day in downtown Portland. First on the agenda was to have lunch at Techniques, the student-run restaurant of Le Cordon Bleu College of Culinary Arts. It was exciting for me to share with Kattie the place where I had spent so many months learning the art of making and presenting French food. The restaurant, the kitchens, the faces of old friends, all came back to me as we waited for our meal.
We started with soup; I had the French onion gratin – not the traditional French onion soup, but a creamier variation (the traditional is more of a broth). Kattie had mulligatawny, a French vegetable soup based on Indian curry. We both had salad entrees: Kattie had poached shrimp with mango and radicchio, avocado, and asparagus in a light olive oil dressing, topped with slivered almonds. Mine was roasted chicken breast sliced on a Cobb-salad base including avocado, walnuts, blue cheese, sliced hardboiled egg and crumbled bacon on romaine lettuce.
But the highlight was dessert: poached pears, caramelized in butter, that left a crunch not only with the caramelization but with the al dente texture of the pears themselves. Drizzled with melted chocolate and accessorized with a scoop of butter-pecan ice cream, the contrast of cold and hot -- you don't know whether to let the hot stay on your tongue or the cold melt into a luscious cream.
When you can look at a photograph and taste its cold ice cream, its warm caramelized sugary pear, that’s the sign of a good food stylist. I’m drooling as I write this, remembering the textures on my tongue.
My mouth is watering just thinking of the creamy texture on my tongue. I almost felt as if I was there enjoying the lunch with you and Kattie.
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