Aioli

 

Photographs © Derek Richmond 2008

Quail eggs seem rather posh.  Is it that a thing so small and expensive must be for the special and precious of this world?  Petit fours, tartlettes, canapés,  these diminutive dishes remind us of the upper class. 

Growing up in London and speaking rather proper English led others to assume I was posh and came from money.  Far from the fact, I came from modest beginnings, though did have rather superior taste thanks to parents who read well and paid attention to the world around them. At a young age I was introduced to the idea, if not the direct experience, of fine things.

Visiting Harrods was considered part of my education.  This gargantuan department store is sadly no longer the epitome of high class purveyance it once was.  Their food displays were a sight to behold and staff gave every customer their gracious time and attention.  Nowadays Harrods is a theme park.  But, it was where at 6 or 7 years old I came across this perfectly adorable child sized foodstuff, as precious and as diverse in appearance as my collection of marbles.

Quail eggs are creamy and delicate and delicious.  They are also beautiful to look at.  Once cracked or cooked and peeled, the interior shell colour is such a calm blue, the kind of hue I should like to put through my hair when I am old and gray.  

I digress.  I bought a dozen quail eggs and because my mood was “in for a penny in for a pound”, I decided to make some aioli also.

Aioli is a mayonnaise made with egg yolk, garlic, lemon juice and oil.  There is nothing quite like fresh mayonnaise and the process is ever so easy given a half hour of contemplative dribbling and pounding with a pestle and mortar.  I followed Rick Stein’s recipe from his book ‘English Seafood Cookery’.  He allows for the use of a food processor as an alternative to the pestle and mortar which I will too if you lack the latter but I hasten you to purchase one for it more simply returns you to the process of cooking.  

Rick Stein’s Aioli

8 cloves of garlic

2 fresh egg yolks

Juice of a quarter lemon

A good pinch of (coarse sea) salt

12 fl. oz of good virgin olive oil (I find extra virgin to be a little too bitter so I combine it with sunflower in a quantity of 2/3 to a 1/3)

Reduce the garlic to a puree with a pestle (this process is aided by adding your coarse sea salt at this stage), add egg yolks and lemon juice and beat in (with a whisk) the oil in (a very slow and) steady drizzle.(the additions in parenthesis are my additions to the recipe instructions)

I also added chopped fresh dill.

In researching aioli I came across a book that I will buy.  Richard Olney wrote ‘Simple French Food’ in 1974. He said, “By knowing and accepting rules, one frees oneself of rules’.  This is surely the basis of cooking and the crux of creativity.  

Know what you speak of and then speak your own mind.

Magic in Michigan

Photos © J. Lowe 2008

In planning a road trip to take me around northwestern Michigan and into the Upper Peninsula, I stumbled across some reviews on tripadvisor.com of a b&b in Northport on the western peninsula called the Old Mill Pond Inn.  These are snippets from some of the user reviews:

“our wives were actually frightened to stay there’

“straight out of a horror movie”

“something is definitely amiss at the Old Mill Pond. Run!!! “

“This is a FABULOUS and eclectic feast of a destination!”

Isn’t diversity great?  Sadly, most people in this world are really annoying and should just stay at home getting fat or fit in front of the television.  

The owner of the Old Mill Pond is David Chroback, an artist who has lived there for 25 years and has run his B&B for about that long too.  He also caters food and organises all sorts of events in the area.  As I travelled around visiting various farms and wineries, I would mention his name and people’s faces would light up with recognition.  By all accounts he is deeply respected by many people for miles around.   

I spent three nights at the Old Mill Pond Inn.  On approaching the driveway I was greeted by a replica Beefeater in his sentry box, self – proclaiming redundancy and in the distance on the lawn, a large breasted, bra and panty clad wooden cut-out woman declaring herself ready to whip me into shape.   The house and garden is an eclectic and passionate series of vignettes. He has amassed collections of objects, from the glittering to the kitsch, primitive to iconic, wacky to interesting.  David’s home and the six rooms he has for guests are a veritable circus of ideas.  With delightful irreverence, he moves gently and generously through the world creating magical scenes, gesturing opinion respectfully and shunning conformity politely.

    

Our breakfasts on his wrap around verandah were beautiful and delicious. 

French toast croissants, a delicate omelette, blueberry pancakes, each dish decorated with fresh fruit and a garnish from his beautiful garden.

      

He has an ingenious way of growing tomatoes in a hanging black bucket, using pipe and connectors as the means by which to hang the heavy receptacle.  Second year round he admitted is the much improved version.  Anyone with a spot of outdoors, be it acreage or balcony, could grow themselves a tricolore salad or a marinara dish by this method.

My experience at The Old MIll Pond Inn reminded me of how straight and narrow life can be sometimes.  I used to live in a town where the lawn police would come and stake the ground if the grass was over a certain length.  I don’t have a garden at all now, I just have 2 lovely window boxes full of herbs.  I’d kind of like a garden again some day, preferably roof top and I’ll be sure to remember David’s palace of imagination.