FATHER'S DAY FEAST

It was my mother's birthday last week so this Sunday in combination with Father's Day I offered to cook a meal at my folks house. My mother is the one who always cooks for the family at holiday get togethers and my father is usually her sous-chef so I wanted them to have a chance to sit around for a change This would be the largest party I've ever served on my own, 9 people (left, my grandfather looking on and my mother, sitting!).

The menu: sauteed tarragon chicken (Poulet Sauté À l'Estragon) with pommes de terre, gratin dauphinois (potatoes au grating), lemon and passion fruit tart (Tarte Au Citron, Fruit De La Passion), and black snowballs.

I started cooking at about 1:30 p.m. Following the recipe from school, I butchered the chickens (three), made a stock with the trimmings and browned all sides of the breasts and legs, then I set them aside for preparation and started the Idaho potatoes, slicing them very thinly on the mandoline. I greased the terrine and rubbed garlic clove along the bottom and sides. A little heavy cream on the bottom then 3 layers of overlapping potatoe slices. Some heavy cream again, finely chopped calamata olives, finely chopped garlic, salt and pepper and a light layer of parmesan cheese. Then two more overlapping layers of potatoe slices, the same in-between layer ingredients as above and then another three layers and again, the in-between layering ingredients but a little more parmesan this time. Then I covered the terrine with foil (with slight openings on the side to let them crisp) and put it in the preheated oven. I was pressed for time so I jacked the oven to 450 and just watched it carefully for an hour, after which it was pretty much done.

While I waited for the potatoes I strained the stock and reduced it, began the sauce (butter, shallots, white wine and sherry vinegar) and then started prepping dessert. I'd made the pate sucree the night before so I just had to roll it out and blind bake it. I'd had a hard time finding frozen passion fruit juice concentrate so I just bought some regular passion fruit juice to use in the custard. Following the recipe, using a double-boiler on the stove I mixed the eggs, sugar, lemon juice, lemon zest until it thickened. I also heated up some frozen berries, added some strawberry jam homemade by my sister's boyfriend's mother in Italy and reduced it to a syrup that I strained and put in a plastic squeeze bottle in the fridge to cool.

I'd made the batter for the black snowballs the night before as well so they just needed to be rolled, chilled, rolled in sugar then confectioner's sugar, chilled again and baked for 12 minutes. I used Amaretto this time as the flavoring liqueur instead of the coffee liqueur I'd used previously. They smelled much sweeter and I can't imagine using the coffee liqueur again. But it wasn't quite time for dessert.

I served the chicken and potatoes with some green beans and almond slices my mother made and everyone went back for second helpings so it seemed to go over well.

For the finish I filled the tarts with the passion fruit custard, topped them by sliced kiwis, strawberries, rasberries and blueberries. I tossed some sliced almonds in barely a trace of egg whites (just enough to lightly coat them) and sugar and lightly toasted them in the stove then put two fingerfuls on top of each one.



I served up dessert, helped clean up a bit then at 6 p.m., having been cooking for about four hours, I took a few minutes to rest.

Everyone enjoyed the meal and it was nice I think for my folks not to have to do the bulk of the cooking for a change. My critique of the meal: the potatoes perhaps could have used a touch more salt and the tart filling needed more passion fruit juice and to be thicker. I didn't use the gelatin to thicken it as like with slurries and sauces I'm not a fan of these extra agents but in this case if the gelatin wasn't going to be used, the custard needed to be further heated and stirred on the stovetop to thicken.

After a few minutes rest I changed and headed for the backyard pool and the first swim of the summer.