Life Is Meals_ A Food Lover's Book of Days - James Salter [115]
The appeal of chili is that anyone, even a child, can make it; the ingredients are easily found; it is delicious by itself or with rice and a variety of toppings; and, like other widely popular dishes, it is as good or better the next day.
A recipe for chili that will please everyone, though it is not of a caliber to win a Texas cook-off:
CHILI CON CARNE
3 tablespoons margarine or olive oil
2 large onions, chopped fine, one to be served on the side
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 pound chopped or ground beef, chuck or round
1 large can tomatoes with basil, including the liquid
1 green pepper, chopped fine
Sesame oil to taste
Worcestershire sauce to taste
2 tablespoons chili powder
1 tablespoon salt
1 bay leaf
1 teaspoon cumin, powdered
¼ teaspoon cayenne
½ teaspoon celery salt
Basil to taste
1 can kidney beans
Strong cheddar cheese, to be served on the side
Cooked rice, to be served with the chili on top
Sauté the onion and garlic in the margarine or oil until golden brown. Add the meat and cook until brown. Add the remaining ingredients and bring to a boil. Reduce the heat and simmer, uncovered, for two to three hours. Add a little water, if necessary. Add the kidney beans fifteen minutes before serving. Serve over rice with the chopped onion and grated cheese as toppings. Serves four.
PRESENTATION
Alice Waters once observed that in her experience, you can tell whether a chef is a man or a woman by looking at your plate: a man builds a tower, a woman makes a nest.
Presentation was once far more complicated. What was known as French service in the early 19th century was highly formalized and meant an enormous number of prepared dishes on the table simultaneously in three succeeding waves: hors d’oeuvres and first courses; then roast and vegetables; and finally, sweets and fruits. The guest could pick and choose, as if from a giant buffet, until that course was cleared and the next appeared, but nothing stayed hot that was supposed to be hot.
In the 1860s, Czar Alexander II’s ambassador to France introduced Russian service at his table, which was then quickly taken up all over Paris. Less grandiose, the food was presented one dish at a time to the diners, served from the left, and cleared from the right.
A century later, nouvelle cuisine made its first appearance in France, led by Paul Bocuse, Jean and Pierre Troisgros, Alain Chapel, and Michel Guerard. They took simplification even further, emphasizing freshness of ingredients, less cream and butter, unexpected juxtaposition of flavors and textures, and small portions artistically displayed.
ROSTI
In the Alpine villages and towns that over the years have become great ski resorts, there is still the feel of the older, simpler life: the steep, snow-covered meadows where in summer cattle graze; the barns and houses that have stood through centuries of weather, families, fortune and misfortune; houses that are as solid as banks and far more comfortable.
Much of skiing in the Alps is above the tree line, amid only snow and the rugged surrounding peaks. There is the thin, cold air and the feeling of being above every humdrum thing. Further down, the trees begin, and through them you go, riding the soft sound of your skis and at one point seeing ahead a house that is a restaurant or even an inn, set among the trees. Within, it is bursting with noise and warmth, the booths are crowded, the rich smell of cooking in the air. On the karte are soups and meats ready to restore one and also, with them, modestly, the delicious potato dish that is characteristic of the mountains, easy to make, impossible to surpass: rosti.
ROSTI
2‑3 russet or Yukon gold potatoes, smallish, cooked in their skins the night before
⅔ cup or less diced bacon
1 tablespoon salt
⅓ cup or more olive oil or, better but less healthful, lard
Peel and coarsely grate