An Experience At Shula’s - 02

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I said I would report on my next cooking class at Shula’s Steak House. So here it is. Spanakopita – what a delightful appetizer. I have enjoyed it in the past, but have never made it. Executive Chef Mark Enge was at the helm.

Tables and white cloths were set. I knew the group was going to be lively, when someone exclaimed,”Where’s the whisky?” We were served fresh, cold water in large wine goblets, and for those who started out with a soda at the bar, while waiting for the group to assemble, refills were offered.

The chef and an assistant had, apparently, been very busy getting ready for us. Fresh parsley, dill, scallions and stemmed baby spinach leaves filled workstations of the large, brightly lit and spotless kitchen with aromas one rarely senses in commercialized supermarkets. Oh, the dill was fabulous…! Red tomatoes were waiting to be diced. Eggs were carefully set and displayed. It looked like a bright morning, 7:00 AM Grecian farm stand on market day.

I got the sense that an appetizer, fit for a court, was about to be created.

The first lesson was how to recognize fresh vegetables. A bundle of green onions from a major supermarket was held up for all to see. The green was drooping and lifeless. Next, from a specialty vegetables vendor, we were shown what scallions should look like – tall, erect, and straight as redwoods. And, if that was not enough, both the curly parsley and dill displayed themselves as regally as bouquets of roses. That was impressive. In the future, I will be more careful when I shop for vegetables.

Before the preparation of Spanakopita, we enjoyed a fresh, cold salsa prepared with salmon. Drowned in flavor, chef Enge outdid himself. This was definitely something I was going to repeat in my kitchen, often, as soon as I can weasel the recipe out from under him. It had a wonderful kick and was just refreshing – par excellence. We were ready to start, but first a short story and brief notes about Phyllo (or Fillo) dough.

Phyllo dough can be daunting and just plain exasperating. But once you learn how to handle it, it really becomes, with a little practice and patience, not difficult at all. Handle it very gently, and it will not tear – gently…!

I still remember, as if it were yesterday, my mother used to make it from scratch in the dining room and on the table on a Saturday afternoon. We all loved Apfel Strudel, of course, and twice a month she would bake this nectar from the gods – employing my oldest brother and me to help her stretch the dough into a paper thin sheet (literally) 4x6 feet. It was truly a performance. My brother still complains to this day, how he disliked helping her make it. Of course, he did not protest when it came time to eat.

You can purchase Phyllo dough at most supermarkets in the refrigerated sections. It comes both frozen and refrigerated. Once thawed in the refrigerator, it can be kept for 2 weeks. Before using it, remove it when thawed overnight, carefully unroll it, and immediately cover it with plastic and a damp kitchen towel to prevent it from drying out. These sheets are very thin, they dry out quickly and that is when they tear while being handled. Uncover the stack, remove a sheet and recover.

Chef Enge demonstrated techniques of stripping, chopping, dicing and slicing parsley, dill, spinach and scallions. A very sharp chef’s knife is required.

The blade moved and flew with the speed of a Tsunami, the rhythm of drum rolls and dexterity of a woodpecker’s beak on fresh morning oak. Still today, I have not mastered that “way of the chefs,” and probably never will.

Individually, each of us prepared our ingredients and mixed them well in a small skillet. In went the spinach, the dill, the parsley, the onions, the egg, the salt and pepper (I snuck in a clove of garlic). Now came the Feta – some for the recipe and (while chef Enge was not looking) some for me. This stuff was tasty…!

OoomPaPa…! Bon Appetite…! Guten Appetit, Laß es Dir schmecken...! Καλή όρεξη! (Kalí óreksi!)…and in American vernacular, “Oh my…Holy crap, was it good…!”

I carefully grabbed a Phyllo sheet and placed it on a sheet of parchment paper. I slowly spread a very thin layer of warm, melted butter on top, by hand – you can use a soft brush to apply. I layed two more sheets, carefully covering each with butter. I placed the ingredients mixture onto the top Phyllo sheet, leaving one inch from each end, carefully rolled it closed, sealed the ends and placed seam side down.

We made it into a roll, instead of triangles, for expediency. Jokes were exchanged, we all looked at each others’ process, hoping to gain a secret and technique. Chef Enge kept a close eye on each of us, gave invaluable instruction and help and then placed all rolls into the oven at 325F for 12 minutes. Out they came and he presented our artistry. Because we wrote our names on the parchment, we were able to imbibe our own success or disaster.

Each Spanakopita roll was a success story. Not a single student failed. Hot, fresh, buttery, golden brown and crispy, with Feta oozing from the ends, each roll was a Rembrandt. What a flavor…! We each tasted our own. Oh, my…exquisite was the word. We all wrapped our creations and took then home to be enjoyed. I ate one quarter of the roll on the spot.

The spinach, the parsley, the dill, the scallions and Feta cheese (and my garlic) were all balanced – truly nectar. Executive Chef Enge, slightly rounded as all good chefs are, beamed with satisfaction at our success.

The recipe was so straight forward and easy to create, that our success belonged to him. I had a minute to talk to him, prior to my leaving. His experience is exemplar. In kitchens since he was 13, from a European background and cooking with the French, Executive Chef Mark Enge brings a style and flavors to his cuisine not easily available from the culinary world. Under his tutelage, perhaps there is hope for me, yet.

It was an hour’s drive for me, to get home. Half way there, as I paid my toll, I gave the attendant change at 10:45 PM with one hand and placed the last bite of Spanakopita onto my palette with the other. She looked at me, startled; I grinned with a mouthful and pulled away. The appetizer never had to suffer the ill fate and embarrassment of being reheated.

I will make this often and, because of Chef Enge, will begin to greatly expand my appetizer repertoire with Phyllo dough which, up to this point, has been fairly limited to sweets.

A big thanks to Chef Enge and Shula’s. Tonight I will chase their New York Strip and report in. By the way, I’m beginning my project called “Chasing The New York Strip.” Make sure you come back and, keep in touch, as I go from one restaurant establishment to another, chasing tenderness and flavor of the Strip. Good ones are not easy to find.

Also, watch for my in depth “White Paper – All About Beef,” which will deal with grading, types of cuts, processing, antibiotics, grass-fed vs. grain – the health, the flavor, advantages and negatives of each.

Check back soon…!

Guten Appetit, und Laß es Dir schmecken...!
March 16, 2010

An Experience At Shula's - 01

By Christoph G. Olesch – Chef, Food Writer

     A friend of mine called me and said I should go with him and his wife for an evening cooking class at a well renowned steak house – Shula’s in Itasca, NW Chicago. For those of you who don’t know, and I didn’t, it’s a small, specialty national chain by Don Shula. One of the most successful NFL football coaches ever, he is the only coach with a record of winning all football games in a season, including the Super bowl – 1972 Miami Dolphins 17-0 “Perfect Season.” I’m not much of a follower, but that’s an unbelievable achievement.

     Their website states their meat comes from the Graham Angus Farm, which is recognized as one of the top Angus farms in the country. The SHULA CUT® sits on top of the beef quality pyramid, taking only the most desired Custom Center Cuts of the Premium Black Angus Beef® brand, making The SHULA CUT the best beef money can buy. Shula's proprietary specifications guarantee that less than 1% will make The SHULA CUT. Damn, that’s got to be good…!

     I’m always chasing a New York Strip and, during my past extensive travels across the states, I was more often disappointed than satisfied – a good one is very difficult to find. You can rest assured, with that type of proclamation that I will be going soon to chase their Angus Strip. And I will be writing about it and let you know. I have a sense that it’s going to be excellent. I can’t wait.

     So, off I went that Friday night with great expectations, not knowing what to expect or what I was going to cook and get myself into.

     I arrived early. It gave me an opportunity to browse the theme of their bar “The No Name Lounge.” A complete history with artifacts and wonderful photography of the “Perfect Season” is displayed. If you’re a fan, you need to go see it.

     I also walked into the restaurant where, at the entranceway, were displayed on a cart, in all their splendor – raw and wrapped – filet mignon, porterhouse and “my” New York Strip. Thick cuts of mouth watering protein – the marbling was exquisite. I had the urge to make steak tartar, immediately. But the group was beginning to assemble and I had to give up that idea.

 

     Executive Chef Mark Enge was going to teach us. However, a last minute announcement was made that something came up and Shula Chef-Daniel Solone, was to take his place. Hoping it was nothing serious, we all said the hell with Enge…We couldn’t wait. Off we went, into the catacombs of Shula’s kitchen.

     Chef Daniel introduced himself and gave us the evening’s mission. Oh, my…! We were going to make grilled salmon…!

     The first few lessons were about color, shape and how to trim. Then the fun part – how to skin the salmon. With a razor sharp knife, he explained and began the process. He had obviously done this before – at least once, as we all smiled. Then, midstream, he asked for a volunteer who would want to try his skill. A lady stepped up, full of the devil and laughter. Never having done it before, she began to butcher the next 3 inches of this goddess from the sea.

     Not embarrassed, she laughed and made us laugh. Chef Daniel was almost stricken with the bends from hysterical laughter, not at the student, but her performance. She had us in stitches, obviously under her control. We could all relax now, because we recognized our own ineptitude and did not have to be afraid to try it or show our lack of skill.

     Daniel immediately and respectfully came to the rescue. Again he explained to us that once cut into, it is the skin which needs to be wiggled and pulled out from under the meat, as the knife remains in place and stationary. The student, with all her strength, did as was instructed and, Oh…!, she finished the job magnificently. A perfectly skinned salmon (itself grateful for the skill she now employed) was ready for the grill.

     The salmon was cut and placed on one of the kitchen grills. Nothing fancy, and with only a brush of teriyaki sauce on the meat, the aroma seized us all. We were motionless and Chef Daniel was very pleased, as he saw his techniques result in our becoming almost catatonic. Some of us took photographs to record the pleasure.

     Meanwhile, on the side, he was preparing a complimentary sweet and sour sauce, with pineapple and a Mirepoix – just an exquisite combination – and giving us lessons how to flip the pan to mix ingredients, instead of stirring. I never really mastered that myself. Perhaps with practice I could gain some skill.

     Simultaneously, we all called the previous student back to the task. We demanded she step up to the duty. After all, we were too busy enjoying wine. Hesitant and afraid, she obliged and committed. Then came the first swing of the skillet. Whoa…! What a weak attempt. She tried again and almost the entire dish was lost to the kitchen floor.

     Chef Daniel was a wise instructor. He rescued her from the daunting experience and gave her a different pan with dry, cut green beans. It was not long, (less the pound of beans on the kitchen floor), before the wrist action became sound and rhythmic and the skillet was in fluid motion with the experience of a seasoned chef. We all applauded and drank more wine.

     Everyone was served an ample portion of the cookery. Oh, was it exquisite…! We wished Executive Chef Mark Enge well, but did not miss him. Chef Daniel, educated with a Master’s in biology, degreed in the culinary arts and with long experience, served us well. He can cook in my kitchen anytime.

     Absolute fun was had by all. We learned enormously. We ate enormously. It was a class which everyone should have experienced.

     I would like to thank Chef Daniel Solone for his time, experience and skillful instruction – his fun. I would also like to thank Shula’s Steak House for making these classes available. As soon as you can, call them and make reservations, classes fill up quickly. Also, don't forget to eat at the restaurant. Tell me what you think.

     I’m signed up for the next one. What we will cook is apparently a secret. Executive Chef Mark Enge will be hosting. I’ll be making reservations at Shula’s for my “Chasing the NY Strip” project.

     My friend and I will dine. I will report soon and, I suspect I will be dining there often. You can visit their site here: http://www.donshula.com/

     Check back on my report of the next class and my dining experience..!


Guten Appetit, und Laß es Dir schmecken...!
March 12, 2010
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An Experience At Meijer's

March 1, 2010

Photo: Annabelle Breakey / Styling: Dan Becker

Preparing menus is a time to relax. I go to my favorite kitchen nook, kick up my feet, lean back and, with pen and pad in hand, let my palette begin to water, my olfactory senses reel and the sounds of a sizzling pan play and fill the room with imaginary realities.

While preparing a weekly menu this weekend, I became struck with the need to savor an aristocratic meal. Should it be an extraordinary lamb roast or the complexity of a Julia Child duck? But I like basic meals of simplicity – I like to let the beef, poultry, fish or pork speak for itself.

I wanted the exquisite tenderness of a filet, but not beef. I had a wonderful roast chicken not long ago. Last night I had just finished a pan seared/braised salmon – and oh, what to do now. Pork is a favorite of mine. The variety of dishes and sauces are unending. And, wanting to stay with my roots of simple and flavorful, a pork tenderloin immediately struck me as the meal to make. Quickly, my anticipation of a “setting fit for the gods” became my edict.

It was Sunday afternoon, and my butcher was closed. Damn…! Guests were to be served at 5. Now what? Ok, there were the usual places – Dominick’s, Jewel, Joe Caputo & Sons. I also needed to stock up on my “everyday” Vendange cabernet sauvignon, and I discovered that Meijer’s had the best price in town. Off I went. I’ll get my pork tenderloin, somewhere.

I much prefer smaller specialty shops. At my age, if I have to deal with more than 12 aisles, I become irritable and impatient. No store should have more than 12 aisles. Ten or less would be ideal. My butcher has one counter, and that’s it; I know just where to find him; I get to chit chat with customers, while waiting. Tickets in hand, people are shoulder to shoulder – we become a small, temporary family. Aromas of fennel and sweet Italian sausage being handmade are wafting our senses relentlessly. Knives are being sharpened in the air with steels and cleavers are pounding the blocks – oh, what symphonies to my ear. You notice the sawdust on the oak floor, while numbers are being called.

I now know where to go. It’s aisle 8, I think – still not sure. As I get closer, I won’t miss it. I pack 6 bottles. At only $5.99 for each 1.5 liter, how can you go wrong? Now, it is not a 2000 Clos Du Val Reserve Cabernet Sauvignon at $95, but it does not have to be. And I have had Cabs at $200+ that I would never seek out again. So, don’t send me e-mails, my Vendange is as good as it gets.

Ok, time to go for the tenderloin…now there is a dilemma – where to go. As I was heading for the registers, I saw the large “deli” sign. I hesitated, but went “just to see” what was there. None were displayed behind the glass, but there they were next to me on a wheeled cart, four boxes empty and 2 boxes remaining – 6 in one, two in another.

The counter was not busy. I was looking at them. The butcher exploded through the swinging doors and asked if he could help me – a thin man, friendly, I felt as if I had known him for a while. I was comfortable. A stout woman came by and took one. “Yes, are these tender? They look good – lean. I’ve never purchased meats from Meijer’s,” I stated.

“These are the best you’ll find, anywhere,” he claimed. He then proceeded to tell me how Meijer’s is known for its high quality meats. That took me off guard. I was silently thinking “sure it is – good sales pitch.” But, what else could he say? A well dressed woman, obviously well to do, with a small empty store basket under her right arm and a smile stopped and took 2 tenderloins.

The butcher burst out with “I might as well not bother putting them into the display. I can’t get them fast enough.” Quickly he disappeared and quickly he returned with 4 more boxes and placed them on the cart. Sensing a need for urgency, I hurriedly looked at them and selected one which I thought was the best, for myself – with no intention of buying it, of course. But I felt secure more secure, lest they all disappear.

Somehow we found ourselves involved in a conversation, reminiscing about cars of old. His face was beaming. He was proud to tell me about his collection. He had a Chrysler Barracuda, year such-and-such, I can’t recall, restored into pristine condition. His life could not be better. He disappeared again.

A man came by with a full cart of groceries, saying, “Here they are, I thought they were out.” Instinctively I seized the opportunity and replied with, “You’ve bought these before? Are they tender?” He responded, “Tender is an understatement. These are the best – won’t buy tenderloin anywhere else.” I thought I was being set up, but now my interest was piqued. It was time to do a thorough marketing inquisition. Well, I’ll talk to the next customer, anyway.

Almost instantly, another woman stepped up – tall and slim, a beautiful brunette. So, now I had two missions, one to get her attention and flirt and the other to gain an insight into the qualities of the tenderloin, if she was familiar with them. “Excuse me,” I said, “I’m thinking about buying one, have you had these before?” (I should ask her to marry me, too – she looked sharp, intelligent and full of positive life).

“Yes, these are wonderful. I always buy them here. I recommend you try one.” I felt as if I were a teenager who finally had enough courage to ask a girl out for the movies. I’m over 60 and she could not have been a day over 40 – shame on me. “Thanks, I think I might,” I retorted.

The butcher reappeared, complaining that corporate had only ordered forty boxes. He told them to order 100. He was going to run out and give customers rain-checks. “I hate doing that, customers need to get what they want.” He derided corporate, some more. But he was also quick to tell me a brief story of how Meijer’s got started from a small family business. He could not have made it more obvious, how proud he was of his association with the company. The complaining was just his way of showing he cared. I liked this guy.

A decision was made. I thanked him for his conversations. I left, keeping the pork tenderloin. When I arrived at home, I immediately pan seared and baked dinner.

I have purchased many types of tenderloin from chains, smaller specialty shops and butchers. I have eaten some of the best during my travels. Without reservation, I can say that when I pulled these from the oven, let them rest for 10 minutes and then cut into them, I knew I had something extraordinary. They sliced better than most filet mignons I’ve had, at any price. Before searing, I only slightly seasoned them with salt, pepper, basil and garlic powder.

If I were to describe their texture and character, I have to put them on par with Kobe beef. My guests were stunned. We ate without saying much. The four of us finished both tenderloins and did not feel ashamed. I called the dinner Pork Mignon.

I will get another one from this store and, if performance repeats, my butcher will have to explain himself. I’ll follow this up and let you know.

For the preparation and recipe, go to Pork Mignon under the Main Courses menu.

Guten Appetit...!