Slim Man Cooks Halibut MarsalaCooking can be a challenge sometimes. Not necessarily the cooking itself, it’s the people you’re cooking for! This one doesn’t eat dairy, that one doesn’t eat chicken, the other one doesn’t eat onions, another one doesn’t eat anything that had a mother…what’s a man to do?Well, I had some halibut, it was fresh and wild and caught that morning. I got it at the local fish store in Carlsbad, California. So I had that to work with. I was thinking of making a white wine sauce, but I wanted something different. So I figured I’d try a Marsala sauce on a piece of fish. Why fish? Because this one doesn’t eat chicken. And that one doesn’t eat veal.And Marsala sauce would be good on fish, especially a fish like halibut, and especially if you’re cooking for a Lady People. You see, Lady People like their sauce on the side. And Marsala sauce is cooked separately; you make the fish in one pan, and the sauce in another. So I dusted the halibut with flour that had been salted and peppered, and then sautéed it over medium-high heat in olive oil. Why olive oil, why not my usual combo of olive oil and butter?Because that one doesn’t do dairy. They’ll do eggs, but no dairy.So…I had it all figured out. I made the Marsala sauce first. As soon as it was done, I made the pasta, and drizzled it with olive oil and a little Marsala sauce. As soon as that was done, I cooked the fish, it only took 6 minutes.Why didn’t I do it all at once? Because the “F” factor goes way up when you have three things on the stove at the same time.So here we go, I’ll step you through it.NOTE!!! Prep your porcini mushrooms first! Put them in a cup of water and let them soak for 20 or 30 minutes. And cook the fish as soon as you flour it; you leave it sitting around and it won't fry right. And you know what Nat King Cole said...straighten up and fry right!Ingredients1 ½ pounds halibut filets, cut into rectangles½ ounce or more of dried porcini mushrooms (soaked in a bowl with 1 cup of water for a minimum of 20 minutes—don’t throw out the water!)1 cup flour7 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil1 shallot, chopped fine, about ¼ cup4 garlic cloves, sliced thin, about 1 tablespoon1 cup sweet Marsala1 tablespoon fresh rosemary, chopped½ pound of egg noodles—pappardelle work wellKosher salt and pepper to tasteHere we go!Let’s make the sauce first.Remove the porcini mushrooms from the cup of water with a slotted spoon.Take the remaining porcini water and strain through cheesecloth into a bowl. I’ve used paper towels, coffee filters, whatever you use, save the water!Rinse off the mushrooms and pat dry. Chop into small pieces.Put a small sauté pan over medium-high heat.Add 2 tablespoons or so of olive oil, (or one each of butter and olive oil).When the oil starts to shimmer, add the shallots.Cook and stir for 2 minutes, until the shallots just start to brown.Add the garlic, cook for 2 minutes. Give it a stir.Add the Marsala.Add the cup of porcini water.Turn the heat to high and let it cook for 2 minutes.Turn the heat to medium-low, and add the porcini mushrooms.Cook for 2 minutes while stirring.Add the rosemary. Cook and stir for 2 minutes.Turn the heat to the lowest, and let the sauce simmer for a few minutes. You can whisk in a sprinkle or three of flour if you want it to be a little thicker, more gravy-like.Now let’s make the pasta…follow the directions on the box, or follow mine…get a large pot, fill it with cold water, put it on the highest heat ya got, when it comes to a boil, add a couple tablespoons of salt (I use Kosher, Mazel Tov!), and then add the pasta. KEEP THE HEAT ON HIGH AT ALL TIMES!When it’s al dente, firm to the bite, drain it and drizzle with a tablespoon of olive oil, and mix gently. Add a couple tablespoons of the Marsala sauce and mix gently. Gently, Slim People!And Now for the Halibut…Rinse off your halibut filets and pat them dry with paper towels.Take the flour and put it on a flat plate. Add salt and pepper and whisk it up.Take a halibut filet, and press each side into the flour, shake off excess, put on a plate.Get a large sauté pan. Put it over medium-high heat.Add 4 tablespoons of olive oil. (Or 2 tablespoons of butter and 2 tablespoons of olive oil).When the oil starts to shimmer, add the halibut.Cook for 2 or 3 minutes until golden. Thicker pieces take longer.Flip ’em over. GENTLY!Cook for 2 or 3 minutes on the other side until golden.Put the fish on a platter.Plate ’em up! Put a piece of fish on a dish, a good-looking dish, not a paper plate, add a little pasta, then drizzle a little sauce over the fish and pasta, garnish with a sprig of rosemary, and…MANGIAMO!
Slim Man Cooks Chicken with Marsala and Porcini Mushrooms
Chicken Marsala with Elvis in Memphis
I was in Memphis in the late 1980s organizing a country music talent contest with my friend Michael.Michael is black. I’m white. Well, Italian.Marlboro sponsored the contest. Why they picked a black guy and a white guy — two city slickers, no less — to do a country music talent contest, is still puzzling.It’s not puzzling why Michael and I did the contest - they paid us a lot of money and they paid all our expenses. I ended up doing four tours for Marlboro. The one with Michael was my first.Michael and I traveled around the USA looking for the next big country music star. We went to more honkytonk hellholes than most cowboys. We’d roll into a town like Memphis, find a club, organize the bands, and do the contest. The grand prize was $50,000. Fifty grand.I was in charge of the bands; I made sure all the musicians knew where to go, what to bring, and what to do. Michael was the MC. He was the Ryan Seacrest of honkytonks. When Michael appeared on stage, and introduced himself to the primarily white, all-country crowd, there was a little apprehension - on both sides of the microphone.He’d come out and say,“Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to the Marlboro Country Music Talent Roundup.”That’s when the crowd got a little quiet. Michael was from New York City, and he sounded like it. He’d continue,“I know I don’t look like the Marlboro Man, and I don’t sound like the Marlboro Man, but tonight…”He’d reach down and put on his white ten-gallon Hoss Cartwright cowboy hat on, and continue,“I am the Marlboro Man.”Michael sounded like Shannon Sharpe — the football player and NFL analyst. He looked like Cleavon Little in Blazing Saddles. Michael always got a laugh when he put the big white hat on. He had a singular charm.Marlboro tossed a lot of money at this thing. We had all kinds of great merchandise — denim jackets, satin jackets, duffle bags, playing cards, T-shirts, polo shirts, denim shirts, posters. And they gave away free cigarettes at every show. All you could smoke.They should have given away a Marlboro coffin. Or maybe a Marlboro iron lung.Here’s how we ran the contest - we had ten bands a night, three nights in a row. Each band got 15 minutes on stage. We had three minutes in between bands, that’s all.Judges picked the winners--not the audience. We’d find judges —usually three — from the local talent pool; DJs, producers, managers, agents. The judges would pick one band to go on to the finals in Nashville, where they would compete with the other finalists from other towns for the grand prize of $50,000.Before we got to Memphis, we got a call from Marlboro headquarters. They told us to be careful. It was the 20th anniversary of Martin Luther King’s assassination in Memphis. And then they told us that the club owner was rumored to have ties to the KKK.The club was called The Vapors, a country music honky-tonk in the middle of Memphis. Michael and I pulled up to the club in our rental car. We walked inside and met the owner. He was friendly. He was as nice and helpful as could be. He wasn’t wearing a white pillowcase over his head.
Michael and I got set up for the show that night. We had to hang all the Marlboro Country Music Roundup signs around the club, we had to make sure the sound company was good to go, the bands ready to play, and the judges prepared to judge.We finished soundcheck and had a few hours before showtime. Michael had a friend who had a limo and tour bus company based in Memphis. She rented these things out to bands and rock stars. She invited us for a limo ride to Graceland and a private tour. She was a friend of Elvis Presley’s Mom.Graceland is the house that Elvis built. It’s now a museum.Michael and I drove over to his friend’s house. She had all these limos and tour buses parked all around her property. She got behind the wheel of one of the limos and Michael and I got in back. She put the big black limo in reverse and floored it.She rammed it into the side of one of her tour buses that was parked right behind her. BANG! We got out, and surveyed the damage. It was substantial — to both the limo and the tour bus.She left the smashed-up limo right there, and got into another one and drove us over to Graceland. She gave us a private tour. We saw the Graceland that not many people get to see. It was surprisingly small, and had a sixties vibe to it—lots of yellow vinyl and white shag carpets and mirrored walls.Elvis must have loved TV. There were TVs everywhere. He had quite a collection of cars, all kinds of exotic sports cars. Elvis also had two luxury jets parked right across the street from Graceland.
After the Graceland tour, Michael and I went to visit the Lorraine Motel, where Martin Luther King, Jr. was assassinated. There were TV news crews doing interviews about the 20th anniversary, and one of them came up to Michael and interviewed him.It was eerie.Michael and I went back to our hotel, a Holiday Inn. We decided to take a jog before the big show that night. We put on our running shoes and started jogging down the streets of Memphis, side-by-side.On our way back, we heard someone shout from a car – you’ll have to excuse the language, but this is the way it went down.“Hey nigguh boy! Hey hippie fag!”True story. That’s exactly what was said. I couldn’t believe my ears. Then I heard it again.“Hey nigguh boy! Hey hippie fag!”Oh, shit, I thought. Here we go. A black guy and a long haired white guy, running down the streets of Memphis. I stopped and looked to see where the voice was coming from.It was the owner of the Vapors. He was laughing, hanging out the window of his car, smacking his hand on the door.“I got you! I got you goin’! See you fellas at the club later! Have a nice run!”
He smiled and waved and drove off, laughing.He got us, all right.We did the contest that night at The Vapors. The owner couldn’t have been nicer, the crowd was as cool as could be and the show went as smooth as glass.I love Memphis - Sun Studio, Graceland, Beale Street - and any city with a restaurant named Automatic Slim’s is OK in my book.CHICKEN WITH MARSALA AND PORCINI MUSHROOMSAutomatic Slim’s did not have chicken Marsala on the menu. But they should have!I came up with this dish a few weeks ago. I used porcini mushrooms and the water they soak in. It was amazing, if I may say so myself.The next night I cooked it for a very beautiful woman of excellent taste, and it was just OK. I overcooked the chicken, and it was a bit tough and dry; so don’t overcook your chicken.I like to serve this sauce over egg noodles – not a lot, just a little bit underneath each serving.I used three boneless, skinless chicken breasts. They were real thick, so I cut each of them in half. I had six cutlets, each was about ¼ inch thick.Marsala is a wine from Marsala, Sicily. There are basically two kinds; dry and sweet. I used sweet Marsala.Be careful when handling raw chicken—clean every surface it touches, wash your hands, and get out the pressure washer and put on the HazMat suit.
INGREDIENTS6 chicken breast cutlets, about ¼ inch thick½ ounce dried porcini mushrooms (soaked in 1 cup of water for a minimum of 20 minutes—don’t throw out the water!)2 tablespoons butter2 tablespoons olive oil½ shallot, chopped fine, about 2 tablespoons3 garlic cloves, sliced thin, about 1 tablespoon¾ cup sweet Marsala1 cup of water1 tablespoon fresh rosemary, chopped½ pound of egg noodles – pappardelle work wellKosher salt and pepper to tasteHere we go…Rinse off your chicken breasts and pat them dry with paper towels.Remove the porcini mushrooms from the cup of water with a slotted spoon.Take the remaining porcini water and strain through cheesecloth — I used a coffee filter, by the way. I’ve even used paper towels as strainers. Whatever you use, save the water – you’ll use a half cup for the sauce, and a half cup in the pasta water, if you want to put the sauce over pasta.Rinse off the mushrooms and pat dry. Chop into small pieces.Grab your breasts. Then grab your chicken breasts. Notice the difference. Salt and pepper the top of the chicken breasts. Fresh cracked black pepper is the way to go. Salt and pepper just one side of the chicken breasts.
Let’s make the sauce first.Put a small sauté pan over medium heat.Add one tablespoon of butter, and one tablespoon of olive oil.When the butter starts to bubble, add the shallots.Cook and stir for 2 minutes, until the shallots just start to brown.Add the garlic, cook for 2 minutes. Give it a stir.Add the Marsala.Add ½ cup of porcini water.Turn the heat to high and let it cook for 2 minutes.Turn the heat to medium-low, and add the porcini mushrooms.Cook for 2 minutes while stirring.Add the rosemary. Cook and stir for 2 minutes.Remove from heat. Sauce is done!Let’s do the chicken.
Get a large sauté pan (I used a 12 inch skillet). Put it over medium-high heat.Add 1 tablespoon of butter and 1 tablespoon of olive oil.When the butter starts to bubble, add the chicken breasts, salted/peppered side down.Cook for 2 or 3 minutes until golden.Flip ‘em over.Cook for 2 or 3 minutes on the other side until golden. Give a cutlet a slice, make sure it’s done.Pour the Marsala/porcini sauce over the breasts.Remove from heat!Plate ‘em up! You can put this sauce over egg noodles, or rice, or eat it as is.I like to put this sauce over egg noodles--pappardelle are my favorite. I use a half-pound. Get a large pot, fill it with cold water. Add the remaining ½ cup of porcini water to the pasta water. When it all comes to a boil, add 2 tablespoons of kosher salt.Add the egg noodles, cook until al dente, drain and drizzle with a tablespoon of olive oil. Stir.Put A SMALL PORTION of egg noodles on a plate. Put some Marsala sauce over the noodles, put a chicken breast on top, spoon some sauce and juice and mushrooms on top and…
MANGIAMO!!!!!!!!!
Grilled Salmon with Marsala and Merci, Philipe!
Grilled Salmon Marsala with Grilled Vegetables in World War II
My Dad told me that when his platoon was going across France behind General Patton in World War II, the towns they liberated were really grateful. How grateful?In one town, as they went past an exuberant, cheering crowd, a woman grabbed my Dad, dragged him into her bedroom and made love to him right then and there.Now that’s gratitude.Before the war, my Dad was drifting. He went to St. John’s College in Annapolis, Maryland. He wasn’t a good student. They put him in charge of the college café. He took some money out of the coffers, and in a valiant effort to try and double the cash, lost it all in a late-night poker game. He was asked to leave the school.Soon after, he joined the Army and went to Europe to fight in World War II. It was a hellish and brutal experience that made my Dad a man. His father, Romollo, died of a heart attack while my father was away at war. They were close; he couldn’t go back for the funeral. It was one of the loneliest times of my Dad’s life.After the war, he went back to St. John’s. He became a good student. He graduated. He went to law school. He became a lawyer. He did all of this with no money — he was the son of poor Italian immigrants.He became a member of the U.S. Commission on Civil Rights. He helped start the Peace Corps. He wrote speeches for Vice President Hubert Humphrey. He became a professor of philosophy and literature.World War II, the toughest time of his life, turned out to be his proudest moment, the turning point that changed his life in the best way possible.
My Dad was in the XVth Corps; they followed General Patton’s 3rd Army through France, liberating town after town. One of the towns the XVth Corps liberated was Lunéville, a small town in northeastern France, about 50 miles from the German border. Lunéville was still being bombed and strafed by the Germans. My Dad was patrolling the streets one day, when he heard a German Stuka approaching. Stukas were small bombers, two-seaters that also had machine guns. My Dad saw a one-armed Frenchman, frozen with fear.My Dad ran over, grabbed the Frenchman, and pushed him to the ground and covered him, bombs exploding, bullets flying. When the Stuka passed, the guy thanked my Dad, and insisted he come to dinner. My Dad spoke French; he had acted as an interpreter for the Army on quite a few occasions. He accepted the invitation. That night, my Dad had dinner with the Frenchman and his wife in their modest home. They sat and drank plum brandy after dinner as the Frenchman, a former captain in the French Army in World War I, told stories. He was a decorated war hero who had lost his arm in World War I. The German army had recently ransacked his home, taking his car and guns and war medals.Things got quiet when the captain started talking about his daughter, Jacqueline. He started crying as he explained that Jacqueline had been visiting a friend in a nearby town when the D-Day invasion took place and all hell broke loose. He hadn’t heard from her since. He feared the worse. He wanted to try and find his daughter, but the Germans had taken his car and guns. The Frenchman showed my Dad a photo. She was beautiful. My Dad offered to see what he could do to bring the daughter back. The Frenchman and his wife were ecstatic.My Dad left and went back to the makeshift barracks. He told the story of Jacqueline to his buddy Frank. He told Frank that he had offered to try and rescue Jacqueline. Frank thought my Dad was crazy. Or drunk. Or both.The next day, my Dad dragged Frank to see the French captain. My Dad told him they’d need a map, the address of the place Jacqueline had last visited, a letter from the captain so Jacqueline would know who they were, and the photo. The French captain gave them everything plus a 5,000-franc note for Jacqueline.My Dad and Frank left, and went back to the barracks. They were both on a two-day leave. Frank reluctantly agreed to help. But they didn’t have a jeep. They went over to the nurses quarters after sundown, figuring there might be a few male visitors who might have “borrowed” a jeep to get there.Frank and my Dad found a jeep and rolled it down the hill and started it. It had a mounted machine gun between the seats. The headlights had been blackened into little slits, and were of little use. They drove in the night. It started to rain. The windshield had been removed, so visibility was low. There were small pockets of German soldiers still in the area, and there were rumors of German soldiers dressed as civilians.My Dad and Frank were trying to get to Heudicourt-sous-les-Cotes, a small town about 60 miles away where Jacqueline had last visited. The rain and the lack of visibility slowed them down; they made it halfway there, soaked to the bone and dead-tired. They slept on the floor of a roadside house that belonged to a Frenchwoman who let them doze in front of her fireplace, so they could dry off and rest.The next day they made it to Heudicourt. They went to the address and showed the woman the photo and the letter. She explained that Jacqueline had caught a ride a few days before to stay with an uncle in Verdun, a small town 25 miles to the north. She gave them the address, and my Dad and Frank took offVerdun is close to the German border. It had recently been liberated by the Allies, but was still being attacked by the Nazis.
Frank and my Dad made it to Verdun, and found Jacqueline at her uncle’s house. My Dad gave her the letter and the 5,000-franc note. She started crying. Then she packed a small bag, said goodbye to her uncle, and my Dad put her in the back of the jeep and covered her with a blanket. There were still clusters of German soldiers roaming about. My Dad and Frank took off, Frank driving, machine gun mounted between them, Jacqueline in the back, bouncing around under the blanket as the jeep flew down the small country roads.They stopped at a town called Metz to gas up at an American motor pool. The MPs warned them about groups of German soldiers. As they were getting ready to take off, Jacqueline poked her head out. The MPs saw her. Before they could react, Frank floored the jeep and drove like mad to Lunéville . They got there at midnight. Frank dropped off my Dad and Jacqueline at her house and took the jeep back.Jacqueline ran inside and there were tears and laughter and hugs and shrieks of joy. My Dad stood in the doorway. The one-armed Frenchman kept pumping his one good arm in the air, crying and screaming, “Merci, Philippe! Merci, Philippe!”GRILLED SALMON MARSALA AND GRILLED VEGETABLES
I was at my Dad’s house when I concocted this recipe. It was Memorial Day weekend. He lives on top of a mountain, in the Catskills of New York. It’s incredibly beautiful. It’s also incredibly isolated - which can make you crazy after a while. Just look at me.When my Dad first got the place, he wanted it to be rustic. And that it was. It was just a square, cinderblock two-story structure that looked more like a garage than a cabin. The ground floor was well, it was the ground. It was dirt. The second floor was unpainted plywood, and there was a gas stove up there, and that’s where I slept.The stove is what we used for heat. For the whole place. Keep in mind; it gets down to below zero in the winter. There’s snow on the ground from November until March. And there was no plumbing. None. There was an outhouse, and it was pretty scary; especially late at night, when you had to walk 50 yards through the snow to go to the bathroom. That’s the way my Dad wanted it. Rough. No frills. No phones. No TV.That didn’t last very long. The thought may have been romantic, but there’s nothing romantic about getting up in the morning and walking across the frozen tundra to go to the bathroom in what is really just a hole in the ground. A stinking hole.And now? My Dad has three bathrooms, all indoors. The one on the second floor has a claw-foot bathtub with a view of the mountains. He has a big screen hi-definition TV, a satellite dish that gets a thousand channels, and the whole house has wireless internet. He has a phone. He even has a cell phone now. Now my Dad is all plugged in, hooked up, and well connected, which is a good thing, especially during the brutal winter months.
Rat Tail Ridge is a great place to grill in the summer, when it’s cool and breezy on top of that mountain. You’ve got a beautiful view, quite breathtaking. Batu loves it up there.Note: the salmon steaks I used were about an inch and a half thick. Keep in mind that thicker pieces of salmon take longer, and thinner pieces take less time. Also, some grills run real hot, some not-so-hot. No wonder it took me so long to get this recipe right. But I finally nailed it.Also, trim your asparagus. Grab an asparagus spear. Hold the top end in between the forefinger and thumb of your left hand, and hold the bottom end with the thumb and forefinger of your right hand, and bend until it breaks. Throw away the stalk end.There are two kinds of Marsala—sweet and dry. Sweet is the way to go. Sweet!Ingredients:For the sauce1 cup sweet Marsala (a wine from Sicily) or sweet vermouth¼ cup extra virgin olive oil¼ cup fresh squeezed lemon juice (use ripe, soft lemons, or Meyer lemons—remove the seeds)1 tablespoon chopped fresh oregano, plus a couple sprigs for garnish (you can use a teaspoon of dried oregano if you can’t find fresh)2 cloves of garlicFor the salmon and vegetables4 salmon steaksA dozen small potatoes cut in half (I used purple potatoes–found them in a local market)A bunch of asparagus (16 or so), trimmed6 Roma tomatoes cut in half length-wiseExtra virgin olive oilKosher saltFresh ground black pepperA small bunch of fresh chivesA handful of fresh basil leaves1 tablespoon of balsamic vinegarHere we go…Add all the sauce ingredients (except the garlic) in a small bowl. Mix. Put the garlic in a garlic press, and squeeze it into the sauce—you can also mince the garlic if you don’t have a press. Put the sauce in a small pan over low heat, and let it reduce while you grill.Rinse off the salmon steaks, pat dry with paper towels, and drizzle both sides with olive oil. Then give a shake of salt and pepper on each side.Keep your vegetables on separate plates. Take the potatoes, drizzle with olive oil, add salt and pepper, and make sure they’re coated well. Do the same with the asparagus, and the tomatoes – but be gentle. Don’t mangle your ‘maters.Heat your grill up! We want it to be medium heat; if it’s too hot, things will burn.The potatoes take the longest, about 20 minutes. Put them on first, cook for 10 minutes (depending on the heat of the grill) and then turn ’em over.Put the asparagus and the salmon on the grill, and cook for about 5 minutes. After 5 minutes, turn over the asparagus and the salmon.Add the Roma tomatoes to the grill, flat side down.Cook the asparagus, salmon and tomatoes for 5 minutes. Don’t turn over the tomatoes!Remove everything to a gorgeous platter.Use a scissors and snip some fresh chives on top of the potatoes.Snip some fresh basil on the tomatoes.Drizzle a little balsamic vinegar on the asparagus.Dish it up! Put a salmon steak on a plate. Take the reduced Marsala sauce and drizzle some on top. Add some asparagus, potatoes, and tomatoes. Garnish with a fresh oregano sprig.MANGIAMO!!!!!