Saucier

In the film Apocalypse Now one of the main characters, a soldier in a team sent to find and kill the renegade soldier Kurtz is called Chef. The character is, in his civilian job, a chef from New Orleans. A saucier, to be precise. The incongruity of a chef who specializes in something as intricate and delicate as making sauces being sent on a killing mission is, at the very least, amusing. Our saucier, sadly, does not survive the film. (Why, by the way, does the chef always get killed in movies? Are we so expendable?) I actually don't find the idea of a cook hacking his way through the jungle that much of a stretch, quite a few of the guys I've worked with would be quite at home in a similar situation. Besides, a machete and a chef's knife seem pretty interchangeable to me. What I do find interesting is the idea that someone can specialize so much in my field that they only make sauces.

Well, that's a bit of an exaggeration. A saucier is responsible for not only the sauces in a kitchen, but for the majority of the cooking during service. How hard can making a few sauces be, you ask? Well in many fine dining establishments, every dish has it's own sauce, each of which is usually based on a stock of some sort. Each of those stocks has to be made by gently simmering bones (roasted or not) overnight in a giant pot, straining, skimming, and reducing the liquid slowly over the course of the next day. To this can be added wines or vegetables or meats or other condiments to create a great number of sauces. If the menu has fifteen savory items, it's no stretch that the saucier might have eight or ten different stocks to make (chicken, roast chicken, veal, white veal, lamb, pork, quail, venison, mushroom...). It's a lot of work. To put it another way: Escoffier, in his comprehensive Le Guide Culinaire, lists nearly 300 different sauces.



Here in Australia, the word sauce refers mainly to ketchup. Its been something of a source of confusion for me since moving here, with plenty of “Who's on first?” style conversations: “You want sauce with that?” “What kind of sauce?” “Sauce. You know, like tomato sauce.” “You mean pasta sauce?” “No. Sauce.” “What kind of sauce?”

Keeping with my stream-of-consciousness form of the past couple weeks, I've been thinking about a sauce, great with fish, which is made with ketchup. It's called bois boudran and is excellent with a piece of salmon.

I was mulling over what I might serve with my salmon and bois boudran when I remembered how I've always wanted to use spaghetti omelet, a Maltese comfort food, as a garnish. I posted about the dish in one of my first blog posts, when I was a but a blogling. It seems like a perfect fit with bois boudran, as my family generally pairs spaghetti omelet, or spaghetti frittata as it is called in Italy, with ketchup. Let's see if all three work together.



Crisp-Skin Salmon with Spaghetti Frittata,
Herb Salad, and Sauce Bois Boudran

Crisp-Skin Salmon
Ask your fish monger to sell you salmon with the scales removed. The skin, when cooked in the manner described below, is like fish crackling. This is one of the only times you will ever hear me tell you to cook anything in a cold pan; we're going to crisp up the skin by rendering some of the fat out, much like duck.

2 x 200g portions of salmon, skin on

Preheat your oven to 200ºC. Put a couple of tablespoons of oil into a cold, nonstick pan large enough to hold both pieces of fish. Season the fish liberally. Place the fish, skin side down in the oiled pan and then put the pan on medium heat. Cook, taking care not to disturb the fish, until the skin begins to crisp (about 3-4 minutes). Gently turn up a corner now and again to check the skin. Transfer the pan to the oven without flipping the fish. Bake for anywhere from 5-8 minutes. Salmon should be medium rare, and will feel firm with a slight give in the middle when ready. Remove from the oven, flip, gently prying the skin from the pan with a spatula if it has stuck, and remove from pan.

Serve immediately on spaghetti frittata with a herb salad and sauce bois boudran (all below).

Spaghetti Frittata

Traditionally, this dish includes cheese, but I've omitted it, as cheese and fish aren't really the best of friends. The result is essentially just fried noodles, really tasty fried noodles.

100g angelhair pasta, boiled and cooled
1 egg

Mix the cold pasta and egg together and season liberally. Heat a small fry pan on medium heat. When the pan is hot, add a touch of oil. Transfer half of the pasta mix to the pan, forming a nest, cook until browned, flip and cook again until browned and crisp and cooked through. Remove from the pan and drain on paper towels. Repeat with the other half of the pasta mix. Keep warm until ready to serve.

Herb Salad

tarragon leaves
chervil sprigs
parsley leaves

Mix a handful of the herbs together and dress with a touch of the bouis boudran (below).

Sauce Bois Boudrain

50ml safflower oil
25ml olive oil
1 Tbsp tarragon vinegar
2 Tbsp ketchup
½ teaspoon Worcestershire sauce
1 drop of tabasco
1 small shallot, fine dice
1 tsp chopped chervil
1 Tbsp chopped parsley
1 Tbsp chopped tarragon

Mix all ingredients. Taste and season.