Tomato Fondue

Nearly two months into the Classic Culinary Arts program at the FCI and I've become quite familiar with tomato fondue. No, it isn't a throwback to bell bottoms and mutton chops, but rather a rich, concentrated tomato sauce that is used as an addition to sauces or alone, as a condiment. Being somewhat of a tomato product junkie (it is not rare that I use an entire jar of sauce on my pasta or munch on tomatoes straight from the can), I imagined tomato fondue to make a fantastic pasta sauce. With a few alterations on the original FCI recipe, I was able to do just that.

Step one: peel the tomatoes (I used fresh plum tomatoes). Remove the stem end with the tip of a paring knife and make an X at the bottom of the tomato. Drop into boiling water and remove just as the skin starts to separate from the flesh. Plunge into an ice water bath to halt the cooking process. Once cool enough to handle, use your paring knife to peel the skin off of the tomatoes.

Step two: deseed. Half the tomatoes horizontally and gently squeeze to remove the seeds. You don't have to go crazy, here. Get most of them out without driving yourself nuts.

Step three: roughly chop the tomatoes. Doesn't have to be pretty, just uniform.

Step four: sweat minced shallots in olive oil in a large, shallow pan. Toss in a few crushed garlic cloves and gently cook until it becomes fragrant.

Step five: add the tomatoes to the pan. Season gently with salt and freshly ground black pepper. Add a large stem of fresh basil and partially cover the pan. Cook the tomato fondue over medium heat, stirring occasionally. It's done once most of the liquid has evaporated.

Step six: remove the garlic cloves and basil. Finish the sauce by adding a bit of butter. Adjust the seasoning to taste and serve atop pasta. Garnish with fresh basil and you're golden.

Dark Beer Syrup

This weekend was dominated by culinary prowess, ethanol indulgence and ludicrous hours of brainless comedies. After all, that's what surviving a "hurricane" is all about, right? My being forced to stay indoors tapped a vein of inspiration to execute no-nonsense, fail-proof meals that were guaranteed to please all palates.

One of these recipes was ice cream with dark beer syrup. I made this once before, years ago, when I really didn't know my way around the kitchen. Knowing a bit more now, with a touch of culinary school behind me, I made a killer ice cream topping.

Reduce any dark beer of your choice over medium-high heat. Once it becomes thick, reduce to medium-low and stir in brown sugar, vanilla extract, cinnamon and salt. Turn the heat off and swirl in a decent knob of butter. Spoon the syrup over high-quality vanilla or coffee ice cream (don't skimp on this part, please. Just don't do it) and enjoy.

Taquito Time

I cannot claim to be particularly versed in Mexican cuisine, nor do I pretend that my attempts at preparing something Mexican turn out, well, Mexican. I do know that I like words such as enchilada, taco and tamale, which is enough, in my opinion, to warrant this post.


Chicken taquitos are not something I consume often. In fact, I could probably count on both hands the number of times I've eaten them, and count easily on one hand the number of times I've prepared them. But don't let my infrequency of chicken taquito encounters fool you -- this stuff is good.

Poach chicken breasts until cooked through. (You could use dark meat, but I like the lightness of the meat against the crispy tortilla.) Once cool enough to handle, use your hands to shred the meat. Combine with fresh lemon and lime juice (either one on its own will do; I enjoy the combination of both citrus juices, and it's what I use in my guacamole), chopped fresh cilantro and salt.

Spoon the meat into the tortilla (any size will work. Also, I prefer whole wheat tortillas for a nutty flavor) and tightly roll. Place the seam side down into hot canola oil and rotate the tortilla to achieve an even golden brown color on all sides. Drain on a paper towel. Serve the tacquitos with salsa or pico de gallo, sour cream (or plain, non-fat Greek yogurt for a lighter touch), and guacamole.

The First Meal

I barely have the time to buy toilet paper, let alone stock up on groceries and experiment in the kitchen. Which is why I am proudly posting about something very simple I did recently: prepare a meal. And not just any meal -- a healthy, balanced dinner that required a variety of cooking methods and utilization of knife skills.


The salmon was sauteed with oil and butter, cooked mostly skin-side down to create a crunchy exterior. Romaine hearts were halved, then grilled and drizzled with a shallot-orange vinaigrette. The potatoes were cut into tournage, a shape that resembles a football. These little things demanded the most labor. First they were blanched in boiling water, then sauteed with oil and finally roasted in the oven with butter.

The result was a colorful, refreshing dish that was perfect on a summer evening.

100th Post

I know, I know--I've been neglecting you. But I swear, it's nothing personal. In fact, to celebrate my 100th post on Lettuce Talk Food, I have a bit of news to share.


On July 11th, I officially began classes at The French Culinary Institute!

Though my days are long and I liken my free time to a precious metal, the rewards are exponential, and it's just the beginning. After only eight classes, I can already sense a transformation in myself, and I look forward to earning my culinary chops.

So I apologize for this absence, and any absences in the future. I hope you continue to follow this blog while I pursue one of my life-long dreams. I hope you pursue yours as well.