Upscale Munchies

Poutine is a staple of this native Québécoise's diet. On a late night outing with friends or after a great concert, an attack of the munchies would have to be quelled by a cup of crispy fries and squeaky cheese curds bathed in thick gravy. The ubiquity of authentic poutine joints in Montreal -- like Lafleur's and La Belle Province -- made it easy to satisfy those cravings when I lived there. Toronto chefs can dish out some respectable interpretations of poutine, but I have to go a fair distance out of my way to get my hands on any of it.

Montreal chef Martin Picard has inspired me to give it a go right in my own kitchen. Picard is the chef/owner of Au Pied de Cochon -- a mecca for nose-to-tail meat lovers -- and host of The Food Network's The Wild Chef. I've had firsthand experience of the devastatingly good eats at Cochon, the most memorable of which featured foie gras. So it should come as no surprise that Picard has a recipe for Foie Gras Poutine.

Foie gras is not something one cooks with every day. It's a pricey indulgence that can't be found on the shelves of the neighborhood supermarket amongst packaged bologna and imitation crab meat. I bought my first fresh foie gras at A Taste of Quebec, allowing myself the splurge only because it was my bday. However, the price made me incredibly indecisive about what to do with it... that is until I found Picard's poutine recipe.

The seared foie gras tasted like bacon and had the texture of soft, buttery tuna belly inside. The foie gras sauce was tasty but not really necessary; I'm generally content with just a really savory, thick gravy. If only I could snack like this every time I get a case of the munchies...

Black Gold

In cuisine as in fashion, everything old eventually becomes new again. While platform shoes and mullets are probably best left in the past, black garlic is an ancient Asian food that has suddenly become all the rage across North America in the last two years.

Fermentation at high heat turns ordinary garlic bulbs into gift-wrapped packages of soft, sweet, black cloves. The acrid intensity of raw garlic is replaced by a soothing flavor that evokes hints of molasses, soy sauce and faint mushroomy notes. Perhaps my description fails to do it justice. Let me just add that I had a strong (happy) vocal reaction to the taste even though I was alone in the kitchen at the time!

The brand I bought was of the Toronto based Just a Pinch variety. Their black garlic comes in a small foil pouch -- the size of a packet of cat treats. There were two whole bulbs inside, just waiting to be peeled.

The confluence of several recent developments led to my first recipe invention involving black garlic. First, on the occasion of my birthday, Lynn and a group of wonderful friends treated me to a fantastic dinner at Torito Tapas Bar. One of the dishes we ordered was a richly flavorful and comforting stew of juicy chorizo and potatoes in a red sauce that tasted of red bell peppers and paprika (which is readily used in a lot of Spanish cuisine). The potato and sauce combination is called patatas brabas or patatas bravas. The smokiness of paprika in both the chorizo and the sauce triggers my taste buds like in a Pavlovian dog.

Second, I stumbled across some Portuguese chourico spiced with my favorite piri piri hot sauce at my normally disappointing neighborhood supermarket. I thought perhaps chourico was a relative of the chorizo, so I decided to give it a shot. (Read the informative essay by food writer David Leite on the battle for supremacy between chourico and chorizo.)

Third, I found the black garlic at the upscale Longo's near my work.

Fourth, a friend who recently returned from a trip across various African countries brought me some pure palm oil.

Fifth, I got into a hunger-inducing discussion with my brother about gourmetizing our beloved street meat, the humble hot dog. I envisioned some kind of chili dog made with black garlic and something crunchy and fried sprinkled on top of it, like fried onion or fried potato bits.

Thus, my concept for the following recipe was born:

Chourico Black Garlic Ragout with Potato Galettes

For the Ragout
1-2 pats of butter
1 medium onion, thinly sliced
2 links of chourico (or chorizo), diced
1 whole can (796 ml) of San Marzano tomatoes, crushed
4-5 cloves of black garlic, chopped or minced
1 bay leaf

For the Galettes
1 medium potato (I used a white potato here)
3-4 tsp oil (this is where the palm oil came into play)

1. Heat a large skillet over medium heat. Melt the butter.
2. Sweat the onion in the butter until translucent or even lightly browned.
3. Add the sausage to the pan and heat through for a minute or two.
4. Pour in the crushed tomatoes and their juices.
5. Add the black garlic and bay leaf and allow to simmer for 15-20 minutes.
6. While the ragout is cooking, coarsely grate the potato.
7. Heat half of the oil in a non-stick pan over medium-high heat.
8. For each galette, pinch a generous amount of the shredded potato and drop it onto the hot pan. Press down with a spatula and lightly shape it so that it is flat and roughly the size of a regular cookie. When it feels like each galette is holding its shape, flip it over until the potato has fried to a golden brown (or orange-brown in the case of the palm oil). You can probably fry a few at a time, depending on the size of your pan. If the pan seems dry between batches, add the rest of the oil.
9. When firm and crispy, remove the galettes from the pan and drain them on paper towels.
10. To serve, spoon out the ragout into a bowl. Place one or two galettes on top.

Next on the menu: I have to try out the recipe for Baked Banans with Black Garlic!