A fair trade

Have you ever met Stephen Skelton? Or, more importantly I suppose, do you like a good homemade duck prosciutto, fresh pasta with steaming ragu, and a perfectly arranged bowl of littlenecks, with a cheese plate for desert?

I thought so. Me too. The other night we held another one of those Community Suppers, with Mary DeBartolo, who heads up the Slow Food chapter around here, and Stephen cooked. It was held at the Wine List in Hyannis, and it was absolutely wonderful. We had forty guests, lots of wine, and especially tasty littlenecks. Sarah Robin from the Flying Fish/Hillcrest Pizza and Chelsea Vivian from Edible Cape Cod and I served, running around in all-black, carrying plates and washing dishes and sneaking into the kitchen for goblets of wine and stolen prosciutto.

If you're wondering why I'm telling you about all this after the fact, well, there are two reasons. The first is to apologize for not letting you know sooner—I plan to be much more proactive about that for future dinners. (I promise. I've even added a little sidebar do-hickey and everything. Just look at me and my html wizardry!) The second is that I have Stephen's recipes for littlenecks, and duck prosciutto, so that you can recreate them at home. I hope you'll think this is a fair trade.


Actually what Stephen has offered are not really recipes, but more like sets of guidelines. He says that's how he likes to cook, and I have to say, I think it's a good way. It's much better to work with a set of well-intentioned directions that leave room for a bit of creativity than stay on the straight and narrow all the time, hopping from recipe to recipe. So here they are—mainly in his words—with a few tweaks here and there.

(Oh! and if you're inspired to try and find him and taste his cooking for yourself, for the next few weeks, he'll be doing demos and dinners at the Wine List. Once May swings around, he's hoping to open up a new venture, a restaurant called "The Glass Onion" in Falmouth. I can't wait to see how it turns out!)

STEPS TOWARD A GOOD POT OF LITTLENECKS

in Stephen Skelton's words:

I encourage people to not follow exact recipes but instead use more or less of what they do or don't like.

There wasn't exactly a recipe for the littlenecks, but more a preference of amounts of olive oil, chopped garlic, rinsed littlenecks, white wine, peeled carrots cut into thin strips, and washed leeks cut into thin strips.

Just heat a pan with a little oil, add the garlic to cook out the raw harshness, add the littlenecks, wine, carrots and leeks. Cover the pan over medium heat and wait for the clams to open. When they are open...enjoy with homemade bread.

DUCK PROSCIUTTO

in Stephen Skelton's words:

The duck requires a little more care and time; it takes a week to cure.

Trim excess fat from the duck breast, season with a fine grind of black or white pepper. In a container just large enough to hold the breasts in one layer without touching each other, cover the bottom of the container with salt. Lay the duck, skin side down on the salt (do not let the sides of the breast touch each other or the sides of the container). Cover the duck completely with more salt. Cover and refrigerate for 24 hours.

Rinse the duck in a bowl of cold water. Discard all of the salt. Dry the duck well with a clean towel. Wrap in cheesecloth, tie with string and hang it (from the handle of a pan or something similar) for one week. It should feel firm but not hard. Slice the duck thin and serve with cranberry juice cooked down into a syrup or another sweet style sauce to offset the salt of the cured duck.

Note: Because the salt has pulled the moisture out of the duck, it does not have to be cooked. This is one of the oldest methods of food preserving.

As promised

Here it is, as promised. The apple cider is the secret ingredient; it adds sweetness, depth, and complexity. The heavy cream is important, too, as such rich treats tend to be.

But my favorite thing about this soup is it's simplicity. It is a one pot, one hour soup, both easy and gourmet.

Many thanks to Jerome, and happy Sunday afternoon cooking to you.

JEROME'S TURNIP BISQUE

Makes 1 gallon

Place 4 turnips (about 3 lbs), quartered, washed, and with ends trimmed, into a large stock pot. Add 1 gallon apple cider and 1/2 stalk celery, bring to a boil, and turn heat down to medium. Continue at a heavy simmer, cooking for 30 minutes or until the turnips are soft when pierced with a fork. Puree in a blender until smooth, return to the pot, and bring to a boil.

Add 1 quart heavy cream slowly, stirring constantly. Bring the soup back to a boil (it will cool as the cream is added), then add salt and pepper to taste. Let the soup rest for at least 30 minutes and up to two days before serving; time will improve the both the profile and the complexity of the flavors. Serve warm and garnish with herb oil (see below).

HERB OIL

Bring several cups salted water to a boil, and throw in 1 bunch Italian parsley, stems removed, 1 bunch oregano, and 1 bunch chives. Blanch for 45 seconds, strain herbs from water, and place in an ice bath to cool. Remove herbs, pat dry of water, and puree in a blender with 1 teaspoon ice water from bath. When herb mixture is smooth, add oil slowly until all is incorporated. Add salt and pepper to taste.

Thank you

Thank you, for a wonderful night. You were a great crowd, and I fear we may be spoiled forever.

Last night was the first of what I hope will be many community suppers to come. We were amazed by the turnout and the warmth and the energy, and we hope that, in turn, you enjoyed the food.

To that end, I didn't forget. I know you all were mumbling about a recipe for the turnip bisque. I called Jerome this morning, and he graciously agreed to share. I'm after him about the Brussels sprouts myself, so with any luck, I'll have both for you tomorrow.

For those of you who couldn't make it, we understand of course, but I hope one of these times you'll be there. It was amazing how everything came together—Jerome plating with four helpers in the kitchen as plates clattered and sauces flew; the girls helping Sarah and me ferry to and fro, crashing through saloon doors; fifty-five diners fed from a single lamb and the wealth of the land. We were nervous, then giddy, until finally, come midnight we collapsed.

Today, we woke up and sent nearly a thousand dollars to Safe Harbor. So thank you again, this time on their behalf.