For all the Tastespotting/FoodGawker food porn bloggery perfection, cooking is a constantly evolving experiment. Nothing ever comes out perfect on the first try, there's always push and pull when you want to try something new, even if it's something simple. So, to heck with perfection, I wanted to share a work-in-progress dish I was playing around with: a Croque Monsieur casserole. Oh, and by the way, all those well-intentioned resolutions about eating healthy? Throw 'em out the window -- much like this dish, nobody's perfect.
Resolutions are for suckers! Wasabi's answer to clean, healthy living - Photo by Wasabi Prime
Croque Monsieur Casserole?? You're thinking, What-the-whaaaaat?! And also, Pass the Lipitor, this looks like a widowmaker. This was a large-scale attempt at putting the classic French comfort dish through the Brunch Casserole-ification Machine. Not unlike the cardboard box Transmogrifier that Calvin and Hobbes would use. When I go out to brunch, a Croque Monsieur is like the perfect meal -- slices of ham, sandwiched between slices of cheese and thick bread, grilled to crispness, topped with more cheese and a bechamel sauce, finished off under a broiler to make the melty top all crispy and caramelized. Heaven, right? There are variations of this, you can have the Madame variation with an egg, I've seen different meats used -- it was never a fancy, fussy dish, meant to be made with strict adherence to a recipe. Like a lot of comfort favorites, it was an inexpensive meal meant to use pantry staples and welcome interpretation. And interpret I did!
The many stages of a casserole-in-progress - Photos by Wasabi Prime
All the ingredients for a classic Croque Monsieur are breakfast-friendly and I thought it could translate into a casserole form, almost like a savory bread pudding, topped with a creamy sauce. I got a loaf of bread and sliced it down. I lightly toasted the slices to remove the moisture, but I think if I make this again, I'll leave it soft and spongey. I wanted it to really soak up an egg custard and drying the bread out means it needs a little extra time to drink up the liquid. I layered the slices in a casserole dish, slipping chunks of ham between the slices. When I make this again, I'll use thin slices of ham and maybe some turkey as well. The chunks are great, but I wanted even layering of meat between the slices and the chunk ham wasn't providing that consistently meaty bite.
Instead of Gruyere cheese, which is the typical choice, I had a spicy habanero-spiked white cheddar. For this early attempt, I just used what I had on-hand and I happened to have chunks of ham and a large wedge of spicy aged cheddar. What can I say, our kitchen is weird and I have an unholy love of Costco. The spice was a nice addition, as was the use of aged cheddar, so I think it's fine to let cheese be a bit of a wild card. The shuffled bread, meat, cheese combo was baked for about 15 minutes for the cheese to get melted and the bread to crisp a little, then a bechamel sauce was poured over the whole thing and the broiler got turned on to brown the top of the casserole. When it's served, the big charred center on a large baking dish isn't the prettiest thing in the world, but sliced into large ooey-gooey squares and served up on a plate, it's not so bad. Despite the in-progress status on this, the first attempt was still delicious. I just wanted to further improve on the texture of each bite and make the bread feel more custard-like, soaking up more of the egg and milk mixture before the slices are shuffled between the meat. I'm definitely looking forward to making this again, improvements considered, to give it that perfect Croque Monsieur experience, in an easy large-scale size for sharing over brunch, as I think this has the potential to be a real winner alongside a mimosa.
For those who haven't heard, NBC's 30 Rock is a freakin' funny show. And that says a lot because I rarely enjoy situational comedy, aka, "The Sitcom." Short of early seasons of The Simpsons, most sitcoms are kind of... awful. The magic of Tina Fey's brain and all her wacky castmates creating behind the scenes shenanigans of an SNL-like series melted my Grinchy heart. Plus it's awash with arcane quotable lines, which I will mercilessly pepper this post with, so deal wit it, Cate Blanchett!
When one of my favorite blogs, The Chickenless Kitchen, announced a cooking challenge to come up with a 30 Rock-themed recipe, I immediately thought, That's crazy! But then I heard Tracy Morgan/Tracy Jordan's high-functioning alcoholic voice exclaim: Who's crazier? Me or Anne Curry?! Short of hearing the voice of God or seeing a burning bush, I felt like my questionable mental stability must be issuing an edict to make this challenge happen! So with the help of Mr. Wasabi, who is a huge 30 Rock fan, we came up with something as disturbing and indulgent as the show is. We like to call this little beastmaster, The Dealbreaker.
There's a sandwich under there, I swear! - Photo by Wasabi Prime
Much like the confused look of terror that's probably on your face right now, there's just no easy way of explaining this. It's a bit like walking in on a crime being committed. The foodie foundation of The Dealbreaker is a Croque Monsieur, which is French for the sandwich that will surely end you -- the meaning loses a bit in translation, trust me. A grilled ham and cheese sandwich wasn't enough, no sir, this one had to be smothered in a beer cheddar sauce. Main character Liz Lemon's favorite thing is a sandwich, because it's a perfect meal placed between two slices of bread, and one of her absolute favorite foods is cheese -- any and all of it. Much like this meal, Liz is a big hot mess, as shown by this ample collection of quotes and gags.
The name, Dealbreaker, refers to a catch phrase from a self-help character Liz creates for her skit comedy show that's full of quotable relationship advice like, "Long distance is the wrong distance - shut it down!" The radioactive colored crumbles over the top are a nod to Sabor de Soledad, The Taste of Solitude, or generic offbrand Cheetos, as Liz calls them. Alec Baldwin's awesomely offensive network exec, Jack Donaghy, discovers there is an actor who looks like him, playing a villain called the Generalissimo on a Telemundo soap opera. Donaghy's trying to win over his girlfriend's mother who hates the Generalissimo, so he plots to have the character killed off on the series, so his face isn't associated with someone she hates. Here is a clip that mentions Sabor de Soledad, and also happens to be awesome:
I'd like to believe this is a Liz Lemon-worthy meal, as it's designed for an indulgent serving of one, enjoyed in the comfort of one's home at some late night hour on a Saturday night, watching the Generalissimo on TV, curled up under a Slanket.
The Dealbreaker
Sandwich 2 slices of bread 4 thin slices of ham slices of gruyere cheese - enough to cover one side of the bread 1 tbsp butter (for grilling sandwich and spreading on bread)
Sauce 6 oz beer, preferably an ale (just drink the rest, I did) 3/4 cup shredded cheddar cheese 1 tbsp butter 1 tbsp flour salt and pepper to taste
For garnish: 1/4 cup crushed Sabor de Soledad (or Cheetos, whatever)
Make sauce first: on a burner set to medium, place a small saucepot and melt the butter and sprinkle in flour. Incorporate the ingredients untilthe paste is slightly browned and slowly add the beer, mixing or whisking constantly to remove lumps. Reduce burner temperature to low. When sauce is smooth, slowly add in handfuls of the shredded cheddar until it's melted and a creamy sauce has formed. Add salt and pepper to taste and set aside.
For the sandwich: smear the butter on both sides of the inside surface of the bread and lay down a layer of gruyere and ham. Place a skillet on the stove and turn on burner to medium. Melt a pat of butter in skillet and grill the sandwich on both sides, pressing to ensure inside is melted and fused together.
Plate the grilled sandwich and pour sauce over the top. Sprinkle over bits of Sabor de Soledad and shout to the world, THAT'S A DEALBREAKER, LADIES!
Special Wasabi thanks to local bakery, Macrina, who provided a loaf of their amazing Pane Francese, a bread developed from grape yeast from Hightower Cellars. It's a really hearty and flavorful bread which stood up to all this 30 Rock silliness. I'm fairly sure Liz Lemon would wrestle the Pane Francese from my hands in the street to make a sandwich out of it... but not without a fight, Ms. Lemon!
Let's make a Deal(breaker) with the help of Macrina Bakery - Photos by Wasabi Prime