Recipe: Croque with Yellowfin Tuna and Wasabi Mayonnaise

Since we are chatting about food, the recipe Gom posted this week reminded me of another one, also surprisingly delicious. (This recipe is from the wonderful "Cooking with David Burke" cookbook. The picture is mine.)


Croque with Yellowfin Tuna and Wasabi Mayonnaise

"Croque" comes from the famous Croque Monsieur, a cheese-and-ham sandwich sautéed in butter until crisp. This recipe is a variation of that, with a unexpected and unique filling: yellowfin tuna and wasabi-made mayonnaise!

You can cut the croques into quarters and serve them as h'orderves.

Ingredients:

Yield: 4 servings

2 tablespoons water
2 tablespoons wasabi powder
1 egg yolk
1/2 cup Ginger Oil
8 slices white bread
1/2 pound yellowfin tuna, cut into 4 slices, approximately the same size as bread slices
Coarse or kosher salt and freshly ground pepper to taste
Ginger Oil for sautéing

Ginger Oil:
1/2 cup of fresh ginger
1 1/2 cups grapeseed oil or olive oil
Coarse or kosher salt and freshly ground pepper to taste

Preparation:

Ginger Oil:

Combine ingredients in a saucepan and simmer over low heat for 5 minutes.
Allow oil to cool before using in the mayonnaise.

Croque:

Combine water and wasabi powder in a bowl and mix. Add egg yolk and whisk. Slowly add Ginger Oil, whisking together until mixture thickens into a mayonnaise.

Spread Wasabi Mayonnaise on 8 slices of bread.

Place a slice of tuna each on 4 of the bread slies. Season to taste. Cover with remaining bread slices.

Heat Ginger Oil in a sauté pan, preferably with a nonstick surface. Sauté sandwiches over low heat, turning so that bread is a golden brown. Do not overcook. Tuna should be rare or, at most, medium-rare.

Remove sandwiches from pan, using a slotted spatula, and drain on paper towels. Salt to taste. Cut sandwiches into quarters.

Talking in english

The three preceding texts are translations of my contributions to the portuguese version of this blog. I hope everyone else will try to reach a wider audience too.

Greetings

Mozzarella in Carrozza

If gastronomy is more than taste and smell, also an art to enchant the eyes, nothing more natural than make a special place for Nigella Lawson, the prettiest thing that came into cuisine in decades. For my latest experience in the kitchen was trying a recipe I saw on Nigella Bites, one of her books. Few things can be so simple and, at the same time, so challenging. At least to me. How to avoid to end up with some sort of sponge that has spent the whole night in a pool of oil?

Hard to be easier: slices of white bread, mozzarella, one or two eggs lightly beaten with salt and pepper, milk and flower. Make sandwiches with the bread and the mozzarella, keeping the later in the middle of the slices. Sink the sandwiches into the milk quickly, pressing the borders. A quick dive in the flower, than in the eggs, and we're ready to fry it in a hot pan with a little bit oil. When that beautiful golden crust shows up you are done. Dry the sandwiches with paper towels before serving. You've got a nice carrozza when the mozzarella is trying to make its way out of the sandwich.

Where is the rocket science, you may ask? Well, making the carrozzas as dry as possible. There are three main factors in action, I believe: 1) The milk. It's the old rivalry, water and oil do not mix together. Where you got one, the other is out. 2) The crust. At least in theory, it is supposed to shield the sandwich from the dangerous invader. 3) Oil temperature. In this case, however, it is not so determinant One is not supposed to deep fry the sandwiches, just enough oil to cover the bottom of the pan will suffice. Besides, if the oil is too hot, one would get a formidable splash. Is the housekeeper coming tomorrow?

My carrozzas end up light, in spite of my fears. I used canola oil, not olive oil as Nigella had suggested. The brand I used, Purilev, looks like the fourth state of water, almost insipid.

It's easy to try some variations. Maybe some parma ham, mix some other cheese... a slice of tomato? A chilean chadornaay was the companion. Why? For those who may wander if I am some sort of Renato Machado, let I make it clear that in the heat of Porto Alegre summer you can only drink something really cool. Ideal beverage? A beer close to the freezing point.

Greetings

Still salted lemons

Our chef asked me if the sicilian lemons are the yellow ones. Yes they are. Bigger then the green Tahiti lemons.
For those who want the recipe for shitake carpaccio I recommend the master himself:

http://www.claudetroisgros.com.br/receitas.htm

(portuguese only)

Carpaccio shitake with a new ingredient

Hello everyone!

Chef, me? No way! A barbecue specialist, at most! Clarissa is just too kind. She deserves the title, not me.

Justice made, I've decided to post my first text to talk about an ingredient I found quite interesting, very unusual. It was presented by Claude Troisgros on Menu Confiança, the TV show on GNT channel. Everybody in Brazil must know it: a renowned chef presents sophisticated recipes while the audience should pay a price listening to a boring journalist that knows wines, Renato Machado. So, the unusual ingredient in that shitake carpaccio is salted lemon. We are talking here about those big yellow lemons that we call sicilian lemons in Brazil. The lemons are cut in four meridians and mixed with lots of salt in a bowl. Then they are put to rest in a sealed jar for at least one month. The ones he's got on the show were three months old. With a sharp knife he cleaned the shell, removing all the very salty pulp, and then washed it carefully. The shells, cut in thin slices were used to spice the dish.

I still can figure the taste of this salted lemon. According to Claude, the smell is fantastic. In order to find it out I'll have to wait a month, at least.

Greetings,
Gom.