The wee little John/Julia experiment continued this evening, with beurre au citron, a member of the "Hot Butter Sauces" family. To make beurre au citron, you reduce 1/4-cup of lemon juice, slowly whisk in a stick of cold butter one tablespoon at a time, and then beat in a bit of hot fish or vegetable stock at the end.
I had thought that sort of a lemon-butter sauce might go nicely over a nice slab of salmon, perhaps some pork cutlets, or maybe even some grilled tuna steaks. But we didn't have any of those things. I had a can of clams and some leftover asparagus that had been kicking around in the fridge for a few days. But I reckoned I could sautée the asparagus with an onion and some canned mushrooms, the clam juice could fill the "fish stock" role at the end of the beurre au citron recipe, we could serve the whole kit and kaboodle over some pasta, and we could call it dinner. And that way, I'd have given beurre au citron a whirl, and we could figure out what to do with it on another night, once we knew what we had.
It turns out that beurre au citron doesn't really need much more than an old can o'clams to be delicious.
Yeah, it was yummy. I mean, I expected it to be good, but it was really delicious. The sauce was creamy and tart, the sautéed veggies mixed in nicely, the flavors were light and complex, and ... frankly, the whole thing was just ridiculously good. And easy.
Oh yes, we're going to do beurre au citron again. Oh yes we will.
And if you're wondering, yes, Katie the Beagle does find clams with beurre au citron to be an acceptable post-dinner treat.
Monday, April 26, 2010
Sunday, April 25, 2010
No poem today, just a paragraph.
Whew. I don't have anything really blog-worthy to post here, but I want to say that after a long, long week, on a drizzly Sunday evening it's awfully nice to have a cute beagle to pet, and a lovely wife who is cooking a delicious casserole.
Not necessarily in that order.
Not necessarily in that order.
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
The Petalstorm
A line of rain squalls popped up unexpectedly
On that sunny April afternoon.
The squall line blew a stiff wind before it.
Then, as the sky turned dark,
The wind swirled down and into
The tall flowering pear trees
That form a line of their own
Outside our cubicle windows.
We walked to the windows
To watch the approaching storm
As the wind and the pear blossoms
Met outside.
The white petals of the trees
Lifted free,
Swirled up, then around,
Spinning and twirling,
Round and down and all about,
Tossing, turning,
Blowing before us in great clouds --
Vast churning clouds of white pear petals
That obscured the other suburban office buildings
That obscured the black pavement of the parking lots
That obscured the four-lane highway
Filled with commuters
Rushing to get home before the storm.
The petals swirled up and around.
The petals blocked all of that.
We stood at windows
Filled with wonder and delight
At the whirlpool of white
Dancing among new green leaves
Then, just as suddenly as the wind had blown in,
The wind stopped. The storm arrived.
The rain fell in sheets
That knocked the dancing petals to the ground
Where they gathered in puddles,
Swirled atop rivulets of stormwater,
Then rode tiny rushing streams
Along the parking lot's curbs,
And down the storm drains.
We looked out the window
At the grey rain that fell
Across the pavement,
Across the office buildings,
Across the four-lane highway
Across the commuters still rushing home,
Their windshield wipers flapping full speed.
Then we returned to our cubes.
On that sunny April afternoon.
The squall line blew a stiff wind before it.
Then, as the sky turned dark,
The wind swirled down and into
The tall flowering pear trees
That form a line of their own
Outside our cubicle windows.
We walked to the windows
To watch the approaching storm
As the wind and the pear blossoms
Met outside.
The white petals of the trees
Lifted free,
Swirled up, then around,
Spinning and twirling,
Round and down and all about,
Tossing, turning,
Blowing before us in great clouds --
Vast churning clouds of white pear petals
That obscured the other suburban office buildings
That obscured the black pavement of the parking lots
That obscured the four-lane highway
Filled with commuters
Rushing to get home before the storm.
The petals swirled up and around.
The petals blocked all of that.
We stood at windows
Filled with wonder and delight
At the whirlpool of white
Dancing among new green leaves
Then, just as suddenly as the wind had blown in,
The wind stopped. The storm arrived.
The rain fell in sheets
That knocked the dancing petals to the ground
Where they gathered in puddles,
Swirled atop rivulets of stormwater,
Then rode tiny rushing streams
Along the parking lot's curbs,
And down the storm drains.
We looked out the window
At the grey rain that fell
Across the pavement,
Across the office buildings,
Across the four-lane highway
Across the commuters still rushing home,
Their windshield wipers flapping full speed.
Then we returned to our cubes.
Monday, April 19, 2010
Book Review: Julie & Julia by Julie Powell
As mentioned upstream, on the heels of watching the movie Julie & Julia, I came across a copy of the book Julie & Julia by Julie Powell at the annual used book sale at work. So I picked it up and gave it a read -- not just because I enjoy reading about horribly fattening foods, but also because I pretty much expected it to be a handy printout of the blog entries from her Julie/Julia Project.
The surprising thing for me was that it was much less a reprint of a year's worth of blogging about cooking all the recipes from Julia Child's Mastering the Art of French Cooking than it was a personal memoir about the experience of blogging and cooking for a year. In that way, I suspect it made for a better read as a book ... less disjointed. Of course, it also made it a bit less immediate than a blog. We already know that she carries through with this whacky experiment, whereas her blog readers really had no idea.
The book itself was a quick, light read. Julie -- and you do feel you're on a first-name basis with her by the end -- does a good job of drawing you into the daily grind that made her try this crazy little experiment in the first place. And that makes it fun.
It also got me thinking about this wee little blog, which in its year-plus of existence has not developed thousands of followers, resulted in a flood of book advances, or inspired a movie. I do, however, have 27 fierce followers and I've already cornered the world Internet market on beagle haiku -- though I must admit that a near-monopoly on the world's supply of beagle haiku hasn't yet proven as lucrative as I hoped.
Frankly, that 27 of you have become regular followers is about 25 more than I expected. I kinda figured that Monique and my Mom would read it on occasion, and that I might acquire another reader or two for a post here or there. Now, if I post with any regularity I seem to get upwards of 50 or 60 hits a day, and there was a stretch there when I hit over 100 per day for a while.
To all of you I say this: click on the ads, will ya, people? Criminy, I blew the boat fund on the mortgage this Winter. I don't expect a movie with Meryl Streep, but there are Patio Boat repairs to be done. Help a brother out!
Oh, wait, did I type that into the blog and reveal my mercenary soul? ... Ah, the dangers of being a rather random stream-of-consciousness blogger. No matter, we press on. What I really meant to say was that I was thinking about was the different types of blogs there are out there. The Julie/Julia Project was a pretty good "stunt blog." It was a day-by-day recounting of a specific project with a goal and a timeline. In that way it kind of reminds me of another classic of the early days of blogging, The FAT Project: Who Can Gain 30 Pounds in 30 Days? from the Spark.com, back in 2000 when it was a fun read. (i.e. Before Barnes & Noble bought it.)
In fact, when I look at all the truly traffic-drawing blogs, they tend to have a genuine focus of some sort, whether it's food, politics, or even the cast of characters you can find over at the Gettysburg Family. (As long as I'm being bossy, go click on some of Susan's ads, too. Raising four kids is almost as expensive as having a decrepit old pontoon boat.)
And so, I thought I'd take a look back at the last fifteen months of blogs here, to see what this blog is about. And you know what? When I go back and sample the 364 posts here, they have a genuinely astonishing erratic lack of focus. Heck, even beagle haiku only account for a mere 18.4% of the total!
Ladies and gentlemen, what we have here is obviously the erratic output of an erratic mind.
And so be it. I started this little thing up to do a better job of updating my friends & family about what I've been up to here in Michigan. And I think it's worked out pretty well in that regard. I also thought it might be good to get me back in the habit of daily ... well, near-daily writing. And its done that, too, despite a few dry spells. I'm pleased with how it's worked out for me.
But I do sometimes wonder ... how is this working for you, my readers?
Let me know if there's something you'd like to see more of. Or less of. Or whatever. I probably won't change or improve a thing. But I am kinda curious.
(Oh, and since this was really meant to be a book review, let's wrap it up as such.)
Summary: A fun read, whether you're interested in blogging, French cooking, or just tales of life in New York City.
Amazon: Julie and Julia: 365 Days, 524 Recipes, 1 Tiny Apartment Kitchen (Hardcover); Julie and Julia: My Year of Cooking Dangerously (Paperback). (I read the paperback, which has a bit of an update at the end.)
The surprising thing for me was that it was much less a reprint of a year's worth of blogging about cooking all the recipes from Julia Child's Mastering the Art of French Cooking than it was a personal memoir about the experience of blogging and cooking for a year. In that way, I suspect it made for a better read as a book ... less disjointed. Of course, it also made it a bit less immediate than a blog. We already know that she carries through with this whacky experiment, whereas her blog readers really had no idea.
The book itself was a quick, light read. Julie -- and you do feel you're on a first-name basis with her by the end -- does a good job of drawing you into the daily grind that made her try this crazy little experiment in the first place. And that makes it fun.
It also got me thinking about this wee little blog, which in its year-plus of existence has not developed thousands of followers, resulted in a flood of book advances, or inspired a movie. I do, however, have 27 fierce followers and I've already cornered the world Internet market on beagle haiku -- though I must admit that a near-monopoly on the world's supply of beagle haiku hasn't yet proven as lucrative as I hoped.
Frankly, that 27 of you have become regular followers is about 25 more than I expected. I kinda figured that Monique and my Mom would read it on occasion, and that I might acquire another reader or two for a post here or there. Now, if I post with any regularity I seem to get upwards of 50 or 60 hits a day, and there was a stretch there when I hit over 100 per day for a while.
To all of you I say this: click on the ads, will ya, people? Criminy, I blew the boat fund on the mortgage this Winter. I don't expect a movie with Meryl Streep, but there are Patio Boat repairs to be done. Help a brother out!
Oh, wait, did I type that into the blog and reveal my mercenary soul? ... Ah, the dangers of being a rather random stream-of-consciousness blogger. No matter, we press on. What I really meant to say was that I was thinking about was the different types of blogs there are out there. The Julie/Julia Project was a pretty good "stunt blog." It was a day-by-day recounting of a specific project with a goal and a timeline. In that way it kind of reminds me of another classic of the early days of blogging, The FAT Project: Who Can Gain 30 Pounds in 30 Days? from the Spark.com, back in 2000 when it was a fun read. (i.e. Before Barnes & Noble bought it.)
In fact, when I look at all the truly traffic-drawing blogs, they tend to have a genuine focus of some sort, whether it's food, politics, or even the cast of characters you can find over at the Gettysburg Family. (As long as I'm being bossy, go click on some of Susan's ads, too. Raising four kids is almost as expensive as having a decrepit old pontoon boat.)
And so, I thought I'd take a look back at the last fifteen months of blogs here, to see what this blog is about. And you know what? When I go back and sample the 364 posts here, they have a genuinely astonishing erratic lack of focus. Heck, even beagle haiku only account for a mere 18.4% of the total!
Ladies and gentlemen, what we have here is obviously the erratic output of an erratic mind.
And so be it. I started this little thing up to do a better job of updating my friends & family about what I've been up to here in Michigan. And I think it's worked out pretty well in that regard. I also thought it might be good to get me back in the habit of daily ... well, near-daily writing. And its done that, too, despite a few dry spells. I'm pleased with how it's worked out for me.
But I do sometimes wonder ... how is this working for you, my readers?
Let me know if there's something you'd like to see more of. Or less of. Or whatever. I probably won't change or improve a thing. But I am kinda curious.
(Oh, and since this was really meant to be a book review, let's wrap it up as such.)
Summary: A fun read, whether you're interested in blogging, French cooking, or just tales of life in New York City.
Amazon: Julie and Julia: 365 Days, 524 Recipes, 1 Tiny Apartment Kitchen (Hardcover); Julie and Julia: My Year of Cooking Dangerously (Paperback). (I read the paperback, which has a bit of an update at the end.)
Sunday, April 18, 2010
Review Ragout -- Catching up on a few recently completed books
Well, heck, I meant to give these all their own reviews, but I'm falling behind in everything lately. So here are a few short summaries:
Blackout by Connie Willis -- Time-travelling historians travel back to cover World War II in England, and are accidentally trapped in the London Blitz, the Dunkirk Evacuation, and the V-2 attacks. I meant to write this up as a companion review to my review of On the Natural History of Destruction by W.G. Sebald, since this is explicitly a work whose setting includes the air raids, and I might yet do that. But in the meantime, rest assured that this is another good Connie Willis time-travel tale. It's also part one of two; the second novel doesn't come out until later this year.
Death in the Clouds by Agatha Christie -- A good, solid Poirot mystery with a nicely perplexing murder set in a 1935 flight from Paris to London. In addition to being a fun mystery, it's a good look at pre-World War II airline flights.
The Black Diamond Detective Agency by Eddie Campbell -- A graphic novel set around a train-bombing and robbery in 1899 with Pinkertons and gangsters. It was cool and evocative in spots, but a bit hard to follow in others. Not a great read, but kinda fun.
Kull: The Shadow Kingdom by Arvid Nelson and Will Conrad -- A graphic novel that collected up a Kull miniseries. Robert E. Howard's King Kull is the barbarian king who rose to the throne of Atlantis. He was Howard's pre-Conan barbarian hero, and Kull tales always seem to make an interesting comparison point with the adventure of the more famous Cimmerian. This Kull tale is a good, satisfying sword & sorcery read with a nice mystery, convoluted court intrigue, and sharp art by the always reliable Will Conrad.
Death Times Three by Rex Stout -- An interesting threesome of Nero Wolfe novellas that came to light after Rex Stout's death, and that hadn't been previously published in book form. A couple of them were rewrites of Wolfe stories that appeared with a greatly different plot. I believe I read this one long ago, but it was a bit hard to be sure, since I was familiar with the other versions of the rewritten stories. That made this an especially fun read for me.
The Tales of Beedle the Bard by J.K. Rowling -- Fun! Fun! Fun! A collection of five short tales from J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter world. Here's a short review I wrote of the first tale, "The Wizard and the Hopping Pot” over on Dwarf Planet Press's web site. I'll try to catch up with reviews of the other tales there, too.
Blackout by Connie Willis -- Time-travelling historians travel back to cover World War II in England, and are accidentally trapped in the London Blitz, the Dunkirk Evacuation, and the V-2 attacks. I meant to write this up as a companion review to my review of On the Natural History of Destruction by W.G. Sebald, since this is explicitly a work whose setting includes the air raids, and I might yet do that. But in the meantime, rest assured that this is another good Connie Willis time-travel tale. It's also part one of two; the second novel doesn't come out until later this year.
Death in the Clouds by Agatha Christie -- A good, solid Poirot mystery with a nicely perplexing murder set in a 1935 flight from Paris to London. In addition to being a fun mystery, it's a good look at pre-World War II airline flights.
The Black Diamond Detective Agency by Eddie Campbell -- A graphic novel set around a train-bombing and robbery in 1899 with Pinkertons and gangsters. It was cool and evocative in spots, but a bit hard to follow in others. Not a great read, but kinda fun.
Kull: The Shadow Kingdom by Arvid Nelson and Will Conrad -- A graphic novel that collected up a Kull miniseries. Robert E. Howard's King Kull is the barbarian king who rose to the throne of Atlantis. He was Howard's pre-Conan barbarian hero, and Kull tales always seem to make an interesting comparison point with the adventure of the more famous Cimmerian. This Kull tale is a good, satisfying sword & sorcery read with a nice mystery, convoluted court intrigue, and sharp art by the always reliable Will Conrad.
Death Times Three by Rex Stout -- An interesting threesome of Nero Wolfe novellas that came to light after Rex Stout's death, and that hadn't been previously published in book form. A couple of them were rewrites of Wolfe stories that appeared with a greatly different plot. I believe I read this one long ago, but it was a bit hard to be sure, since I was familiar with the other versions of the rewritten stories. That made this an especially fun read for me.
The Tales of Beedle the Bard by J.K. Rowling -- Fun! Fun! Fun! A collection of five short tales from J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter world. Here's a short review I wrote of the first tale, "The Wizard and the Hopping Pot” over on Dwarf Planet Press's web site. I'll try to catch up with reviews of the other tales there, too.
John & Julia Project Update
Day 2 -- Worry not, hollandaise sauce fans, not all the leftover hollandaise went to Katie the Beagle. Most of it went into the refrigerator, and we took good care of it today. For today's brunch I warmed up the sauce, added a bit of hot curry, and spread it on more poached eggs, tomato, and English muffins.
Unfortunately, in the midst of poaching and toasting, I slacked off the stirring and the hollandaise began to separate. So the hollandaise curry was a bit lumpy and a bit greasy.
Hey, gaining "a thorough familiarity with the vagaries of egg yolks under all conditions" ain't for sissies. And it was yummy, anyway!
P.S. In regard to Michelle's question about what culinary adventures would be underway if we'd seen "Ratatouille", even rat tastes good when it's smothered in hollandaise sauce!
Unfortunately, in the midst of poaching and toasting, I slacked off the stirring and the hollandaise began to separate. So the hollandaise curry was a bit lumpy and a bit greasy.
Hey, gaining "a thorough familiarity with the vagaries of egg yolks under all conditions" ain't for sissies. And it was yummy, anyway!
P.S. In regard to Michelle's question about what culinary adventures would be underway if we'd seen "Ratatouille", even rat tastes good when it's smothered in hollandaise sauce!
Saturday, April 17, 2010
The John & Julia Project
So, you might ask, "Why is Katie the Beagle enjoying hollandaise sauce and eggs for lunch today?:
It's all part of a brand new project here at Patio Boat central: The John & Julia Project.
You see, after the movie Julie & Julia inspired the scrambled-egg fest earlier this week, discussion of more yummy French food hasn't been far from the fore in these parts. And, in a bit of culinary synchronicity, I saw a copy of the book Julie & Julia at our annual used book sale at work, and picked it up. So, yummy French food has been both a discussion topic and a reading topic this week.
Naturally, all of this led to a new copy of Julia Child's Mastering the Art of French Cooking making its way home with me last night. Of course, where aspiring blogger Julie Powell set an ambitious 365-day target for making it all the way through all 500+ recipes in the book, I reckon it'll take me about 20 or 30 years. We do have something in common, though. Where Julie was inspired to take the plunge by the angst created by a series of dead-end jobs and the approach of her 30th birthday, a rather embarrassing personal problem inspired me to take my mini-plunge.
I'd hate for this to get out in public -- this is just between you and me, gentle reader, right? -- you see, I have a personal issue that has created some angst for me over the years. It's just that ... well ... it's sort of shameful to admit, but ... um ... here it is:
Sauces have always been a bit problematic.
Mind you, it's not spaghetti sauces or chili sauces or that sort of thing. It's just that although I can put together a nice white cheese sauce or a gravy when I follow a recipe, my other cream sauces or reductions have a bit of a random quality to them. Usually they're yummy enough in the flavoring, but their texture is pretty random. And nobody -- especially me -- can ever predict their consistency.
This can not stand.
After watching the movie last week, I picked up a copy of Mastering the Art of French Cooking at the book store, started leafing through it, and was immediately impressed by what a good teaching book it seemed to be, especially in terms of its mixture of theory and practical advice. Over the week, the memory of its easy-to-follow tutoring preyed upon the secret shame of my sauces until I was forced to buy it yesterday.
I don't really intend to master the full and entire art of French cooking. I just darn well intend to improve my sauce improvisation skills. And so -- armed with a goal and a tome first published in 1961 -- I decided to tackle the hollandaise family first, starting with today's brunch:
Book, tools, and ingredients in hand, I was ready to start.
Now here's the sort of thing that I'm talking about, in terms of the teaching nature of this book. This is from the first paragraph under the section on The Hollandaise Family:
It is extremely easy and almost foolproof to make (Hollandaise sauce) in the electric blender, and we give the recipe on page 81. But we feel it is of great importance that you learn how to make hollandaise by hand, for part of every good cook's general knowledge is a thorough familiarity with the vagaries of egg yolks under all conditions.
Okay, Julia. I eschew the easy-peasy blender hollandaise. I shall learn the vagaries of egg yolks.
The result? Poached eggs with hollandaise on English muffins. (I was originally aiming for Eggs Benedict, but I forgot to pick up any ham or Canadian bacon when I stopped by the store last night. Oh, how we suffer.)
It was yummy!
There was lots and lots of leftover hollandaise, plus some leftover egg whites, so we moved on to scrambled egg whites, tomato, and hollandaise sauce on English muffins:
More yumminess!
Then it was time to clean up, and Katie the Beagle came to make a suggestion.
Leftover egg-white crisps scraped from the frying pan, with hollandaise. (Perhaps we should call it Blancs d'Oeufs Frites, avec Hollandaise, to class it up a little bit.)
The Result? The most spoiled beagle in the world.
Alas, there's more work yet to be done with the hollandaise family before we can declare victory and move on to other sauces. We still have Hollandaise avec Herbes, Hollandaise avec Purees ou Minces, Hollandaise avec Blanc d'Oeufs, Sauce Mousseline, Sauce Chantilly, Sauce Maltaise, Sauce Vin Blanc, Sauce Mousseline Sabayon, Sauce Bearnaise, Sauce Choron, and Sauce Colbert to go.
Work, work, work. Hey, mastering the vagaries of egg yolks under all conditions doesn't come easy.
It's all part of a brand new project here at Patio Boat central: The John & Julia Project.
You see, after the movie Julie & Julia inspired the scrambled-egg fest earlier this week, discussion of more yummy French food hasn't been far from the fore in these parts. And, in a bit of culinary synchronicity, I saw a copy of the book Julie & Julia at our annual used book sale at work, and picked it up. So, yummy French food has been both a discussion topic and a reading topic this week.
Naturally, all of this led to a new copy of Julia Child's Mastering the Art of French Cooking making its way home with me last night. Of course, where aspiring blogger Julie Powell set an ambitious 365-day target for making it all the way through all 500+ recipes in the book, I reckon it'll take me about 20 or 30 years. We do have something in common, though. Where Julie was inspired to take the plunge by the angst created by a series of dead-end jobs and the approach of her 30th birthday, a rather embarrassing personal problem inspired me to take my mini-plunge.
I'd hate for this to get out in public -- this is just between you and me, gentle reader, right? -- you see, I have a personal issue that has created some angst for me over the years. It's just that ... well ... it's sort of shameful to admit, but ... um ... here it is:
Sauces have always been a bit problematic.
Mind you, it's not spaghetti sauces or chili sauces or that sort of thing. It's just that although I can put together a nice white cheese sauce or a gravy when I follow a recipe, my other cream sauces or reductions have a bit of a random quality to them. Usually they're yummy enough in the flavoring, but their texture is pretty random. And nobody -- especially me -- can ever predict their consistency.
This can not stand.
After watching the movie last week, I picked up a copy of Mastering the Art of French Cooking at the book store, started leafing through it, and was immediately impressed by what a good teaching book it seemed to be, especially in terms of its mixture of theory and practical advice. Over the week, the memory of its easy-to-follow tutoring preyed upon the secret shame of my sauces until I was forced to buy it yesterday.
I don't really intend to master the full and entire art of French cooking. I just darn well intend to improve my sauce improvisation skills. And so -- armed with a goal and a tome first published in 1961 -- I decided to tackle the hollandaise family first, starting with today's brunch:
Book, tools, and ingredients in hand, I was ready to start.Now here's the sort of thing that I'm talking about, in terms of the teaching nature of this book. This is from the first paragraph under the section on The Hollandaise Family:
It is extremely easy and almost foolproof to make (Hollandaise sauce) in the electric blender, and we give the recipe on page 81. But we feel it is of great importance that you learn how to make hollandaise by hand, for part of every good cook's general knowledge is a thorough familiarity with the vagaries of egg yolks under all conditions.
Okay, Julia. I eschew the easy-peasy blender hollandaise. I shall learn the vagaries of egg yolks.The result? Poached eggs with hollandaise on English muffins. (I was originally aiming for Eggs Benedict, but I forgot to pick up any ham or Canadian bacon when I stopped by the store last night. Oh, how we suffer.)
It was yummy!There was lots and lots of leftover hollandaise, plus some leftover egg whites, so we moved on to scrambled egg whites, tomato, and hollandaise sauce on English muffins:
More yumminess!Then it was time to clean up, and Katie the Beagle came to make a suggestion.
Leftover egg-white crisps scraped from the frying pan, with hollandaise. (Perhaps we should call it Blancs d'Oeufs Frites, avec Hollandaise, to class it up a little bit.)
The Result? The most spoiled beagle in the world.
Alas, there's more work yet to be done with the hollandaise family before we can declare victory and move on to other sauces. We still have Hollandaise avec Herbes, Hollandaise avec Purees ou Minces, Hollandaise avec Blanc d'Oeufs, Sauce Mousseline, Sauce Chantilly, Sauce Maltaise, Sauce Vin Blanc, Sauce Mousseline Sabayon, Sauce Bearnaise, Sauce Choron, and Sauce Colbert to go.
Work, work, work. Hey, mastering the vagaries of egg yolks under all conditions doesn't come easy.
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