 Poaching
is the simple method of cooking foods by immersing them in a warm
liquid bath. For the timid cook, the term "poaching" sadly
applies only to the cooking of eggs. Yet with a little creativity,
you can discover unlimited possibilities in the kitchen by poaching
food. Personally, I never considered poaching to be a technique employed
by serious cooks. I suppose it was due to my memory of the horrible
damage I witnessed being inflicted upon perfectly good eggs that were
improperly poached. The scene of the crime was and continues to be
the indomitable Hotel Sunday brunch.
Eggs Benedict is traditionally billed as the star of numerous hotel
Sunday brunches. Row upon row of "poached eggs" sitting on top of
soggy, chewy English muffins, slathered with a cloying, separated
Hollandaise sauce and topped with a silly garnish of sliced black
olives. The downtrodden troops sit in the trenches of an industrial
size aluminum warming tray placed over another tray of scalding
hot water. This is an affront to the true meaning of poaching.
My anticipation, and expectation, of Eggs Benedict quickly expired
when I cut into the first congealed yolk. At that moment I realized
this is not the way to enjoy a poached egg.
How could such a basic technique result in such a terribly overcooked
mess? It is, as a famous romance novelist once wrote, "all in the
temperature of the bath my dear." Consider poaching in terms of
enveloping a succulent morsel of food in a warm cocoon, blanketing
it from harsh heat and searing fat.
First, let us start with the equipment needed to poach an egg--a
small bowl, a 6-8 quart saucepan, a slotted spoon and a kitchen
towel. That's it, nothing else is needed.
Although there are numerous contraptions specifically designed for
poaching eggs, I find these devices unnecessary. Yes, an "egg poacher"
may produce a perfectly round, poached egg, but the result gives
the egg an industrial-cafeteria look. I prefer to poach eggs by
hand. I find this the best method for controlling when the egg is
done and I do not have to mess with my egg getting stuck in a $20
tin cup.
Now, lets speak of the bath in which our eggs will take a quick
dip. Water and a tablespoon of white vinegar. Again, simplicity
rules. The vinegar aids in keeping the white of the egg around the
yolk. It is not necessary to add salt to the water. Salt will chemically
break down the vinegar.
Onward to the act itself--poaching. Bring the water and vinegar
to a gentle boil in the saucepan over medium-high heat. Crack the
egg into a small bowl. Using the slotted spoon, stir the water in
a circular motion to create a small "whirlpool" in the center of
the water. Stop stirring and gently pour in the egg. Keep the water
at a gentle boil. Using the slotted spoon, tenderly caress the egg
so that it will not stick to the bottom of the saucepan. This will
help keep the white of the egg attached to the yolk. You will notice
a white froth in the water. Do not be overly concerned, it is just
some of the egg white. Simply skim it away using the slotted spoon.
When is an egg perfectly poached? That is a matter of personal taste.
To my liking, one minute is quite enough. I want the yolk to ooze
out onto the plate so I can soak it up with a golden toast point.
The white of the egg should be set, the yolk still tender, not hard.
Poaching the poor fellow too long will relegate him to the deviled
egg tray at the family picnic.
Using our trusted slotted spoon, gently remove the egg from the
water and place it on a kitchen towel to drain. A perfectly poached
egg will look like a fluffy white pillow, tender and soft.
Some noted cooks recommend poaching eggs in advance and keeping
them in an ice water bath for re-heating before service. This is
not how to treat a poached egg. Poached eggs should be prepared
and served immediately. I serve poached eggs on top of buttered,
toasted croutons accompanied with my version of hollandaise sauce--mayonnaise
rife with anchovies and the tang of fresh lemon juice.
What, you might ask, can I poach other than an egg? The answer is
simple: any food. But you should always consider the ingredient,
its taste, texture and what you want the final result to be. For
example, fish naturally lends itself to poaching because you will
be poaching it in liquid, the environment in which fish live. Poaching
is a gentle method of cookery that will not harm the delicate texture
and slightly sweet taste of fish.
In my lobster recipe I poach the raw meat in what the French call
"Buerre Monte," which is simply butter melted in a small amount
of water. The water keeps the butterfat from breaking. The technique
is simple and fail-safe. Simply heat a couple of tablespoons of
water to the boil in a small saucepan. Add a stick of unsalted butter
and reduce the heat to low. Add the raw lobster meat and gently
swirl the pan. Poach the lobster just until it turns opaque, about
3 minutes.
"Buerre
Monte" enhances the delicate sweetness of the meat while coating
the lobster in a satiny sheen of butter. I cradle the lobster in
a nest of angel hair pasta and cap it with a sensuous, fragrant
sauce made from reduced orange juice, Indian curry and butter.
A pear poached in red wine is a classical dessert, but I find red
wine a bit too hearty for poaching pears, and prefer poaching them
in a sweet white wine variety like Gewurztraminer spiked with vanilla
bean, cinnamon and nutmeg. The poached pear is then served with
mascarpone cheese studded with brandied fruits and little amaretto
cookies.
So, the next time you find yourself partaking of a Sunday Brunch,
pause by the Eggs Benedict. Clasp your hands together and bring
them up as if you are praying. Close both eyes and consider, just
for a moment, the taste of a perfectly poached egg. Then open your
eyes, wink at the person behind you in line, and walk away from
the eggs.
Poached
Eggs
with Anchovy Sauce and Smoked Bacon
Poached
Lobster
with Orange-Curry Butter Sauce
Gewurztraminer
Poached Pear
with Fruited Mascarpone
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