Cassoulet perfectly unites meat, beans
and meaty monkfish.
Cassoulet, after all, can be anything, he says, so long as it’s slow-cooked casserolestyle with white beans.
Using seafood makes for an exceptionally light dish, Mr. Walton says, but it also poses some problem. Specifically, how do you transform it into a garlicky sausage that holds its shape? Answer — lots of practice, plus just the right blend of scallop, lobster, whitefish and truffle. On the plus side, it has a shorter cook time.
Also less traditional is his choice of legume (Christmas lima beans) and the fact the tomato-y broth gets its depth from lobster and shrimp heads and fish scraps.
“You know that smell? When you walk in after school and Mom’s making pot roast?” he asks. “It’s our version of that.”
Finished with fresh shaved fennel for texture and a squeeze of lemon juice, Acorn’s Cassoulet Poisson ($77) is served in one large vessel that easily feeds two to four people. Rouille, a garlicky bread mayonnaise flavored with saffron, comes on the side for drizzling. A dusting of roasted nori salt adds the crowning touch.
If you want to try your hand at cassoulet, know that it’s not particularly difficult but it is extremely time-consuming. Expect to spend the better part of a day making the dish, which starts with soaking the beans overnight to reduce cooking time.
No worries if you can’t finish it when it comes out of the oven.
“It’s actually better the next day,” Mr. Hooper says. 1 ¾ cups all-purpose flour ¼ cup sugar 1 tablespoon ground ginger
½ ¼ teaspoon ground cloves ½ teaspoon ground mace Pinch of baking soda, optional
cup molasses 2 tablespoons butter Preheat oven to 325 degrees. Lightly grease baking sheet or line with parchment paper.
In a mixing bowl, stir together flour, sugar, spices and baking soda, if using, for extra leavening.
In small saucepan, heat molasses and butter, stirring until butter is melted. Stir mixture into dry ingredients. Knead until smooth. You may have to add a teaspoon or so of water or more flour. (I had teaspoon grated nutmeg
On a test run two days before Christmas in 1750, Franklin zapped himself along with the bird — who survived — when he “inadvertently” touched two of the nearly fully charged Leyden jars. The resulting shock would leave him sore for a week.
If you never considered the grandfatherly Franklin a culinary adventurer, you’re not alone: Ms. Eighmey didn’t, either, before she wrote the book. Yet after studying his life and environment through his letters, household accounts and autobiography, and cooking the foods he and his contemporaries would have eaten, “I’ve realized the important role ingredients and even recipes play in understanding his life and times,” she writes.
Not only did Franklin promote healthy eating habits and advocate eating locally grown foods, especially corn and apples (he briefly was a vegetarian), but he also collected and shared vegetable seeds. He was particularly fond of unusual varieties.
Today is Franklin’s birthday (he’d be 312), and what better way to celebrate his curiosity and scientific genius than by cooking one of
Divide dough into 8 balls. Pat each one into a 4-inch-diameter disk, about ½-inch thick. Place disks on prepared baking sheet.
Score each disk into 6 wedges by cutting halfway from the top with a sharp knife. Bake until firm and slightly browned, about 20 minutes.
When cool, break evenly into wedges.
Makes 48 wedges.