Back to Basics - Mother Sauces

As I wait for the Yankee game to begin (I secretly love when the Yankees are playing on the West Coast, because it gives me an extra 3 hours to get lots more accomplished), I’m enjoying a lovely Willamette Pinot Noir - the Cristom 2007 Jessie Vineyard - anyway I thought I’d share with you a project I assigned to myself this year.

As I mentioned briefly in my first post, I’ve been inspired to return to the “basics” - what we consider “basic” is not quite what others may consider basic.  For us, something basic probably comes from a box, some kind of mix, etc.  Well, what I’m calling “back to basics” is having the best possible understanding of the classics, the basis for traditional dishes, mainly from French and Italian cuisines.

The assignment this year was to sort of master what are known as the “5 French mother sauces” - that includes Tomato, Espagnole, Bechamel, Veloute, and Hollandaise.  I was inspired to do this for a few reasons, and the first being that while I was reading Julia Child’s My Life in France, I came to a better understanding of the amount of work that goes into testing classic recipes, making them into the classics that they are.  And I also had been doing plenty of experimenting in the kitchen over the years, and wanted to know why some methods work and some don’t.  The best possible way to find out is to start from the beginning.

Please remember one important thing that will show up as a recurring theme - I’m Italian.  Very Italian.  As much as I embrace many things that are French, particularly wine and food, my roots are Italian, my mind is Italian, and my heart is Italian.  So some of the French sauces end up in a familiar place - atop a plate of macaroni (for you non-Italians, that’s what Italian households call pasta).  French methods tend to work for me, but alas, many of the French basics acquire an Italian accent before consumption.

Hollandaise on eggs benedict

Hollandaise.  I’m sure you’ve had it at some point, as it’s a base for plenty of sauces we’ve all tasted.  But this is one that instead of making a “derived sauce,” which are sauces that happen after we begin with one of the mother sauces, and proceed to add to it, making a different sauce.  I’ll explain more in a bit.  Anyway, Hollandaise is technically an emulsion of egg yolk and butter, with other ingredients such as salt and lemon juice.  I created the Hollandaise sauce for a Palm Sunday brunch that I put on for the family, to top eggs benedict (which was so awesome, because it was then that I learned to poach eggs for the first time - but that’s a story for another day), and have with a lovely spring salad, fresh fruit and cream, and mimosas (used Prosecco for that).  Believe it or not, the whole thing was pretty simple.  Next time I practice Hollandaise, I’m not sure if it’ll be for eggs benedict again (as my sister has requested that I make the brunch again this summer), or for a Bearnaise sauce.

Bechamel

I don’t know about you, but I’ve always loved cream sauces, ever since I was a child falling in love with the likes of Fettuccine Alfredo.  But the issue I was facing was that the sauce felt too thin generally, and I wanted to know how to give it a bit more body.  Enter Bechamel sauce.  Bechamel begins with a roux of butter and flour (and the amounts have to be exact - at least that’s how it appeared to me, otherwise it would become too pasty), and once the roux is made, heated milk is added.  My whisk certainly got a workout that evening!  I decided to add some fun seasonings like nutmeg and a bit of tarragon (and the obvious kosher salt and black pepper), and it was placed atop a cool dish of farfalle macaroni (butterflies, also known as bows), sauteed lemon marinated chicken breast, and blanched peas and asparagus.  See what I mean about applying French techniques to Italian style dishes?  Well it works, and for me, that’s the perfect comfort food.  Pairing?  A fresh, clean, minerally organic Sancerre.  Some of the green grassy notes of the Sancerre mirror the vegetables, the citrus notes mirror the lemon marinade in the chicken, and the bright acidity of the wine cuts through the cream sauce, leaving the palate feeling perfectly clean and ready for more.  For me, this spells perfection.

Veloute

I’ve had the chance to practice one other mother sauce - Veloute.  Begin with a basic roux again, only this time, we’re incorporating a light chicken stock into the sauce.  I do realize that doesn’t sound very interesting - that’s why I went with a derived sauce - the Supreme Sauce, so that means we need some cream.  In the end, chicken and crimini mushrooms were added, as was conchiglie macaroni (shells).  Delicious.  I chose a smooth Roussanne from Northern Rhone to mirror the velvety texture of the Veloute sauce, and it was so enjoyable.

So next up - I’ve got a few options.  I’ve got 2 sauces remaining to attempt - the Tomato and the Espagnole, or I could practice the other 3 more.  I’ll have to base it on my mood I suppose, and since I’m the kind of person who pairs dinner to wine (and not the other way around), I might just choose the wine first, and see which sauce would be most accommodating.