Kitchen Scraps

One of the great challenges in professional kitchens is the elimination of wastage. It's an obsession in most cases. I've worked for chefs who expect their cooks to collect carrot nubs and onion ends and mushroom stumps to be added to the stock at the end of the evening. Other chef's I know randomly search the rubbish bins around the kitchen, checking to see if cooks are discarding bits of useful food. The whole restaurant is subject. Bar have a corked bottle of red? Put it into the bourguignon. Chicken getting on in age? Make a terrine. Those coffee beans a bit stale? Make a coffee ice cream.

This all may seem a bit extreme, but it is merely good business. The simple fact is that most restaurants fail; they shut their doors deeply in debt. All of this obsessive food frugality saves money, and, while I can't promise that every restaurant which practices so will succeed, not many which waste food thrive. It is nothing less than survival, then, that prompts chefs to collect disused bits and pieces and try to sell them.

I want to be quite clear: we are not talking about rotten food, nor even questionable produce. If you dine in establishments where you trust the chef to serve you only the best, you've nothing to worry about. Good chefs will more than likely have a higher standard of freshness than you do and will only repackage food that meets these standards. In fact, if you have doubts, I want to know one thing: why are you eating in that establishment at all?



Don't think that this reusing of foods doesn't benefit you, the customer. The general philosophy in kitchens is that it is better to sell food, at any cost, than to throw it out. The result is that your chorizo and morell frittata probably costs only a few dollars less to make than you are paying for it. It's a clearance sale.

Eliminating wastage thus has given rise to some very clever cookery. It's easy to grill a steak, but it takes skill to make a terrine, cure meats, transform stale dinner rolls into dessert. The real beauty of these techniques is that, when practiced properly, they yield very tasty results. In many cases, I'd choose the leftovers over the sirloin.

My favorite of these types of dishes combines two would-be wastage items: fish and bread. When we have fish that doesn't sell within a day or two of arriving from the market, I cure it in salt it for a few days and then resurrect it as brandade.



Brandade

Traditionally this dish is made with potatoes, not bread. However, I love the slight tang using stale sourdough lends.

250g salted fish (see below)
1 sprig thyme
1 bay leaf
6 cloves garlic
300ml milk
200g stale sourdough bread, crust removed, cut into small cubes
olive oil
parsley
lemon

Soak the fish in water overnight to remove some of the salt. Discard the water. Put the soaked fish, thyme, bay, and garlic into a small pot and pour in enough milk to just cover. Simmer on low heat until the fish softens and begins to flake apart. Remove from heat and strain, reserving the milk. Remove and discard the thyme and bay. Allow fish to cool slightly.

Transfer the fish and garlic to a large bowl. Using the back of a wooden spoon, crush the fish and garlic until a flaky paste forms. It will be quite rough.

Next, taste the reserved milk. If you judge it to be too salty to add back into the dish (it often is) discard it and use fresh milk. Pour about half of the milk into the fish mixture. Dump in the bread and mix together, mashing any remaining chunks as you go. Pour in the olive oil a bit at a time, mixing to incorporate between each addition. The texture of the mixture should be quite thick but moist and soft; you should be able to form balls which hold their shape.

Taste the mixture. It should be salty, but not unpleasantly so. If it is too salty, add more bread and some fresh milk. When you are happy with the flavor, add the lemon zest and parsley and finish with black pepper.

To serve, pack the brandade into a small, shallow baking dish; we're looking for maximum surface area. Bake in a hot oven for 5-10 minutes, or until the top has browned and the lot is hot throughout. Spread the hot brandade on some toasted bread and enjoy.

Alternatively, you can roll the cold brandade into balls, batter them, and deep fry them until golden, as in the photo above. I serve these fritters with a light salad and tomato fondue (recipe here).

Salted fish

You can buy salt cod in fish shops and from some smallgoods suppliers. I make my own, both because the point, really, is to use up fish that would otherwise go off, and the homemade stuff tastes better.

300g white fish (cod, snapper, etc.)
confit salt (below)

Remove any bones and the skin from the fish. Pack it in the confit salt in a container just large enough to hold the fish. Be sure that the flesh is completely surrounded by salt. Cover and refrigerate overnight at least, or as long as you like. Stored in the salty brine which will form, the fish will last indefinitely.

Confit Salt

I use this salt for a host of purposes. We make 10 kilos at a time in the restaurant and use it for, as the name implies, salting meats which are to be cooked in duck fat. I also use it to season meats for braises, joints for roasts, and, as you might have guessed, curing fish. It doesn't go off, so hold on to any you have left over for other cooking projects.

1 k rock salt
2 tbsp black peppercorns
2 tbsp whole star anise
6 bay leaves
2 cinnamon sticks
5 cloves garlic
2 sprigs thyme

Mix all ingredients together.