Let's get saucy, By Jeremy Goodwin

Let's get saucy
By Jeremy Goodwin (Mar 31, 2006)

After Atención went online, I sent its web address to a lot of food-orientated internet groups. I received a lot of feedback from single men-not asking whether I did personal chef work in just an apron, but serious interest in the challenges of the kitchen.

By far the most common, and somewhat desperate, plea was for help with sauces, especially something more than gravy in a box. I am always looking to stick it to Voltaire and his erroneous but oft-quoted comparison of France and England: "France is a land of forty-two sauces and one religion, while England is a land of one sauce and forty-two religions."

It seemed like a good question to answer. Ignoring the religious side of the argument, I will be content to rock the old pedant in his grave with a few simple sauces, none of which relies on the two basic styles of French sauces, the velouté and the béchamel.

Those two venerable sauces are somewhat heavy, and they are a good starting point if you want to dirty half your pans. They usually seem to require extra help in the kitchen for whisking and watching, and they have the added benefit of helping any unwanted guests on the road to a triple bypass.

What I believe is really needed is easily identified as a bachelor-proof collection of simply and quickly made sauces, or sauces that can be prepared well in advance and that reheat without breaking, an idea that would make French sous chefs cringe. Also rebelling against the tyranny of the Cordon Bleu tradition, I am not averse to leaving some of the flavoring ingredients in the sauce, eliminating the traditional straining and inevitable extra dirty pot.

If I appear to put inordinate emphasis on reducing the quantity of dirty cookware, it is because I do not have a dishwasher or a maid to cope with the mess. Furthermore, the best sauces are made in good-quality stainless steel or well-seasoned cast iron cookware, both of which suffer at the hands of the Philistine. I have had to forcibly remove well-meaning guests from my kitchen as they prepared to scrub my cast iron with a detergent-loaded pad, claiming they just wanted to help as they enthusiastically embarked on stripping away years of seasoning from a favorite skillet. Ladies, if you think you caught some heat from using his razor, at least we can hope he got some peripheral benefit out of it, but leave his cast iron alone. The same rule applies to chef's knives-tossing them in the dishwasher or sink with the rest of the cutlery will not earn any brownie points.

It may be exaggerating a little, but for the serious cook, preparing a meal can be equated to giving birth; you really do not want strangers watching, and nobody should give a hand in the actual process or help with the clean up unless they are invited. What you really want is for everyone to wait outside and coo charmingly over the result when it eventually emerges, ignoring your sweat-streaked countenance and the furrows of pain etched deeply on your brow. Beginners especially do not want people watching them while they stumble around, spill things and singe the hair off their arms.

If everything else you are preparing is going well, the addition of a sauce adds an extra dimension in taste, texture and appearance, turning the mundane into the memorable. To make things easy, there are a few simple aspects of preparing sauces that are crucial, and they are no great mystery.

The first is that pan juices from roasting and a thing called fond, the little bits that stick to the bottom of the pan when you brown something, are precious and will give the sauce some continuity of flavor with the dish you are preparing.

Second, if you are using the fond, have a liquid suitable for deglazing at hand, for loosening the fond from the bottom of the pan. Most often this is wine or, for me, vermouth, but chicken or vegetable stock will do with a little more work.

Third, have a glass full of teaspoons close at hand, because tasting is extremely important. It is with very few exceptions that I find I can serve a sauce without having to make last-minute adjustments.

Other considerations include having a device to remove excess fat from pan drippings; having butter used for finishing a sauce, sliced and softened in advance; and keeping your herbs and spices easily at hand. The last adjustments should be done just prior to serving, and you do not want to be running around looking for an ingredient while your shrimp turn to rubber or your steaks into boot leather.

1 pint heavy cream

1 small onion or three shallots, finely diced

1/2 teaspoon dried thyme, fresh dill or fennel

1/4 teaspoon ground saffron

1/4 cup white wine or sweet white vermouth

1 tablespoon olive oil

Pepper to taste

In a shallow skillet, sauté the onions until translucent and add the wine. Cook for another two minutes to burn off the alcohol and add the rest of the ingredients. Bring to a gentle simmer and reduce until it begins to thicken, about 5 minutes, stirring occasionally to prevent sticking. If it gets too thick, add a splash of milk to thin it a little. Serves 4.

2 cups wine, sweet vermouth, port or marsala

1 cup pomegranate juice or a pint of crushed blueberries, raspberries or blackberries

1 small onion or 2 shallots, diced

1 teaspoon dried thyme

1-3 tablespoons brown sugar, depending on fruit's acidity

1-2 tablespoons unsalted butter, softened

1 tablespoon olive oil

1/2 teaspoon black pepper and salt to taste

Sauté the shallots or onion in a small saucepan until translucent. Add the wine and fruit components and the thyme and reduce for about 30 minutes over a medium heat until about 1/4 of the original volume is left. At this point the sauce can be abandoned while you prepare the rest of the meal. In the last five minutes before serving, taste the sauce, add the pepper, and then add sugar until it is just a little sharper than you would like. Stir over a low heat. When the rest of the food is ready, whisk in the butter and serve. I recommend straining, but it is not obligatory.

When serving a sauce finished with butter, it is a good idea to have warmed your plates. Enough for four servings. Especially good with veal or a good steak.

Carb-free onion and mushroom gravy

2 large onions, coarsely chopped

1/2 lb mushrooms, coarsely chopped

1 pint chicken or vegetable stock (water or wine may be substituted)

1 teaspoon dried thyme

2-4 cloves crushed garlic

2-3 tablespoons olive oil

1 tablespoon veal demi-glace (optional)

Salt and pepper to taste

In a large skillet, sauté the onions over a low heat until they begin to brown (caramelize), about 15 minutes. Add the mushrooms, thyme and garlic and cook for another 5 to 8 minutes, until the mushrooms are softened. Remove from the heat and use most of the stock to both cool and help liquefy the sauce. Use the rest of the stock to free the fond, from the pan used to brown your meat, or the drippings in the oven pan. In a blender, process all the ingredients until smooth, adding more liquid if necessary to get a gravy consistency. Return to a saucepan and cook over low heat for 10 minutes. This sauce can be held at any point to suit your timing. Although it is not the most attractive color, it is deep in flavor. If you want it a little smoother, finish with a couple of tablespoons of butter.

Four to six servings. Especially good on red meat or chicken.

(especially good for lamb or roast potatoes)

1/2 cup fresh spearmint, finely chopped

2 tablespoons malt vinegar

3/4 cup sweet vermouth (port may be substituted)

2 tablespoons brown sugar

Add all the ingredients together in a small saucepan and simmer gently until reduced by half, approximately 20 minutes. Serve when cool. Enough for 16-20 servings of lamb. Keeps for months covered and refrigerated.

Jeremy Goodwin is an author, freelance food writer and owner of The Best Kept Secret. He may be contacted at Jeremy@dcnet2000.com