Cooking From the French Laundry

Some people’s long-term goals involve hiking mountains, swimming oceans, going to the moon. Mine is partaking of the sacrament that is the French Laundry. Thomas Keller’s renowned temple of cuisine will one day see my husband and me sit down to eat. I may have to have a few car washes or bake sakes – or sell a kidney – to raise the funds, but it will happen.

 

In the meantime though, I thought we’d see what we could create from his weighty tome. Glorious photographs of his even more glorious food fill the large pages, interspersed with tightly packed, small font, lengthy,  intricate and intimidating instructions.

 

I checked out this 5+ pound book from the library, and paged through it, losing all hope that we, humble home cooks, could make a single item. Until I saw the recipe for the staff meal – Eric’s Staff Lasagna looked imminently doable, if time consuming. And the recipe happens to be vegetarian, though it’s not titled as such. I mentally filed it away until yesterday, when temperatures were expected to hover in the 60s and 70s. Perfect day for lasagna.

 

I bought a hefty bag of heirloom tomatoes at the market to supplement those I’d received in my farm share last week, and we headed to Lotsa Pasta to buy freshly-made lasagna noodles, a pound and a half of fresh whole milk ricotta, half a pound of freshly grated whole milk mozzarella and some fresh oregano.

 

I’m not about to reprint Thomas Keller’s recipe without permission – check at your local library or on Amazon – but I’ll tell you what we did, and what we learned. Watch a slideshow of the preparation.

 

We started at 5:00, blanching the tomatoes to make them easier to peel, and cooking a chopped onion and some garlic in a heavy pot in olive oil until translucent. Half a cup of tomato paste (we used Muir Glen organic) went in, and cooked ten more minutes until it turned lurid orange. Meanwhile we peeled and chopped the tomatoes – you need eight cups, which translates into a LOT of tomatoes. I think we started with four or five pounds. The tomatoes go in the pot and begin their slow cook. You need to stir them every few minutes and scrape the bottom. It smelled amazing.I volunteered to take the dogs out a couple times while it cooked just so I could come in and smell it all over again.

 

Meanwhile, whip up the fresh whole milk ricotta (if you bought the nasty cheap stuff, stop now and go out to eat) with three farm eggs and stir in half a cup of chopped parsley. This can sit in the refrigerator until the tomatoes are ready. Which won’t be for a while. They need to reduce down to four cups. This took about an hour and 20 minutes on our stove. You can also add some salt and pepper to your mozzarella and toss well.

 

When the tomatoes are ready, add some salt and pepper, and allow to come to room temperature (we were impatient and only waited 20 minutes or so, despite the hour the book instructd). Preheat the oven to 350. In a 9x13 pan, start with just a bit of the sauce to lubricate the bottom. Now layer as follows:

¼ of the noodles, half the ricotta, ¼ of the noodles, all but one cup of the remaining sauce, ¼ of the noodles, remaining ricotta, ¼ of the noodles, remaining sauce, mozzarella.

 

Bake until the mozzarella is golden, bubbling and just beginning to brown -- 45 minutes in our stove. You’ll sit down to eat about four hours after you started.

 

The verdict: This is a staff meal – it’s a dish the staff is likely to eat before service, not a dish the customers dine on. It’s not fancy, not gourmet. But it is quite a fine lasagna, and definitely company-worthy. It’s time consuming and a little labor intensive up front, but not technically difficult. It made me feel pretty good to successfully complete a Thomas Keller recipe (even if it’s actually the sous chef’s). I found the ricotta a bit dry for my taste, but I think that’s my own fault. Keller proselytizes about straining throughout the book. Nothing goes from one vessel to another without being strained he says in his book, so we strained the tomato sauce. Had we not, the juice would have cut that dryness.

 

We’ll make it again, and what’s more, now that we’ve tackled this dish, we have the confidence to attempt something Keller would serve the customers (maybe even something we’ll have at his table one day).