
Happy Thanksgiving to readers in the U.S.! I hope you celebrate it with good company, good food, and plenty of pumpkin pie!
Love,
Jessica
One of the three culinary classes I am taking this quarter is Garde Manger. Translated from French, the term means “keep to eat.” In the culinary world, it refers to the station in a kitchen that is in charge of preparing mostly cold foods. This covers some of the areas you might expect: salads, sandwiches, cold sauces and soups, and cold appetizers and hors d’oeuvres. It also covers preservation techniques and the fabrication of cured and smoked foods, terrines, pâtés, sausages, cheeses, condiments, pickles, and sometimes, hot appetizers and hors d’oeuvres. I love this class, and I’m learning a lot in it since a lot of the topics are new to me.
As you might have noticed, these are all summer vegetables, so this recipe would be ideal to do in the summertime. I couldn’t wait, so I cheated and went totally un-seasonal on this recipe. All the vegetables get cut into 3 mm. Or 1/8” slices. That’s this small:
This step takes awhile, but was made much easier for me by having a very sharp knife. A mandolin would have made it even faster, so if you have one, use that.
Don’t worry—it isn’t. Remember, you’re going to be roasting these vegetables, so they’re going to shrink down to a fraction of the size they are now.
Mix your vegetables with the marinade, and you’re set to start roasting. Roast the vegetables in a single layer on baking sheets, covered in oiled parchment paper at 215 F (the original recipe said 200, but I found 215 worked better for me), for about an hour, until they are dry, but not brittle.
This part takes a while because unless you have multiple ovens and enough baking sheets to fill them all, this step must be done in several batches. I was able to fit four baking sheets at a time in my oven, and it still took a long time. Since the vegetables all take different times to roast, and they weren’t totally uniform in size, I checked on them every twenty minutes or so and removed any veggies that were finished, replacing them with uncooked ones to start roasting. This way, I didn’t have to wait for an entire sheet to finish before starting more vegetables. Once again, let me warn you, this part is very time-consuming!
To assemble, alternate layers of vegetables and the cheese mixture until your pan is full. Now, fold the plastic liner over.
Cover the terrine with the mold cover or foil, and then you’re going to bake it in a water bath (a bain-marie) in a 300 F oven until the terrine’s internal temperature reaches 145 F, about an hour. To make the water bath, place the terrine in a 2” deep baking pan and fill with hot water halfway up the sides of the terrine mold. The water should stay around 170 F.
When the terrine reaches 145 F, take the mold out of the water bath and let it cool slightly. Then, weigh down your terrine with 2 lbs. of weight. I used canned goods, simply placed on top of the foil covering. The terrine needs to be refrigerated for at least 12 hours, and up to three days.
See how nice and compact it is? See all those nice layers? If I had a proper terrine mold, it would have been higher and narrower, but I think that this works just fine. It’s best if the terrine is nice and cold when you slice it in order to ensure clean cuts.
This would make a great appetizer, as well as a main course. I served it as a meal in slices over quinoa, topped with a drizzle of rosemary-infused olive oil and it was absolutely delicious.
I’m making a dark chicken stock, by the way. If you want a light one, skip the roasting step. The dark one will be much richer; the light one is good if you want a subtler flavor.
Yes, keep all those skins, stems, and ends on. There is flavor to be extracted from every part of most vegetables, so use as much of them as you can. They go into the roasting pan with the now semi-roasted chicken, tossed with a couple tablespoons of vegetable or olive oil.
Now it all goes back into the oven for another forty minutes or so, stirring occasionally. You want caramelization—some browning—on both the bones and the vegetables.
I used a small bunch of fresh parsley, about four whole peppercorns, a couple teaspoons each of dried rosemary, thyme, marjoram, and savory, and two bay leaves.
When adequate time has passed, you’ll be ready to strain your stock. Having done this a few times, I’ve perfected my own method of doing this: first, I strain it through a colander, just to get out all the big pieces of bone and vegetable. Then, I strain it through a fine mesh strainer, and then again through the same strainer, this time lined with cheesecloth. That does the trick and gets all the bits and pieces out of my stock. Now, this might seem obvious, but I’m going to mention it anyways: strain your stock into another container, not into the sink and down the drain! I say this because every time I strain stock I’ve made, I always instinctually move to strain it into the sink—bad idea!
Yes, it’s very dark, and in this case, that’s what we were aiming for. Again, if you want light chicken stock, skip the roasting process. That golden layer on top is fat, so I skimmed that off. When this product gets cold, it becomes completely gelatinous. This is a good thing. That gelatin is from collagen, extracted from the bones you used to make the stock, and equals rich, delicious FLAVOR!
Other knives of about the same size will probably be OK, but the boning knife is shaped in such a way to make the job easiest for you, so it’s ideal. It’s also known as a boner. Don’t laugh, I’m serious.