Dinner for One: King Crab and Avocado Tian with Antipasto

Clayton’s working tonight, so it’s all Lolita time.  Although he’s a great consumer – as in he eats what I make without (much) complaining – there are dishes I prepare for myself that I don’t seem to ever make for him.  I don’t know why; there’s no real reason or rhyme, frankly – it’s just the way it is.  Tonight’s meal began with the leftovers from some huge-ass king crab legs we enjoyed for last night’s dinner, and a couple of odds and ends I picked up today at Trader Joe’s.  The result? An elegant but simple salad of nutty avocado and tender sweet crab meat, accompanied by an easy antipasti: a light but rich supper as delicious as it is beautiful.

King Crab and Avocado Tian with Antipasto

1 ripe avocado
1/3 lb fresh picked cooked crab meat
juice from 1 lemon
1 tbs mayonnaise
1 handful maché (lamb’s lettuce)
1 boll burrata cheese
2 slices prosciutto di parma, split and rolled into 4 tiny cigars
EVOO, sea salt, cracked black pepper, balsamic vinegar

Whole Foods had a special on King crab legs this weekend – something I’ve had a hankering for for a while now.  We bought 2 pounds, not realizing just how much meat these bad boys were going to yield.  I think we’ve established that we’ve never actually had King crab legs prior to these — likely only snow crab clusters — since neither of us can remember ever seeing such huge unbroken chunks of leg and knuckle meat before.  And it was so dense and packed that the discarded shells weighed next to nothing; we easily ‘harvested’ 30 oz of succulent pink deliciousness.  After gorging ourselves on not much more than crab and butter, we had about 1/2 lb leftover.

I pull my crab meat into nice sized hunks, and mix it with a little mayo and several teaspoons of lemon juice, along with some salt and pepper.  I just want the mayo to bind the crab – not make it gooey; I also just want the lemon juice to cancel out the egginess (eggyiness? eggyness?)  of the mayo – not make it lemony; and I just want the salt and pepper to brighten the salad – not overpower it.  The idea is crab and nothing but that which is needed to ‘hold it together’ for the sake of shaping the tian.

Speaking of which — here is how I’m shaping this “tian” – my stacked, formed salad of crab meat and avocado.  I’m not sure why it’s called a tian — in fact, although I see several examples of this term being used in this context online, traditionally a tian in French cooking is something completely different – either more like a vegetable tart, or an earthenware cooking device.  But when I envisioned this dish, it was as a perfectly shaped cylindrical layered salad.  And when I order a perfectly shaped cylindrical layered dish in a restaurant, it’s usually called a tian on the menu.  Hence my usage of the term.  Anyway, using my kitchen shears, I cut the ends off of a beer can to make a perfect form.  It would have been better to use a soup can, but all the cans I have in the house are designed to stack, so my can opener won’t work on their bottom sides.  (I figured this out only after dumping the contents of several cans of soup.)  Using a beer can just meant I had to be careful not to cut my fingers on the sharp edges.

I start by pressing my avocado, which I’ve blended with a dash of lemon juice, some salt, pepper, and EVOO, into a more-or-less flat 1″ thick layer on the bottom of my can.

Then I layer in the crab meat salad.

I vary carefully slide the can up and off the filling so it maintains its shape, pressing down on the crab meat to keep the filling on the plate.  Oiling the can a bit beforehand helped.

A basic antipasto of rolled prosciutto di parma, burrata cheese, capers, EVOO, and balsamic vinegar, along with some EVOO and lemon juice dressed maché, add extra dimensions to this already sophisticated presentation.  Crab and avocado, although not meant to co-exist in nature, seem destined for each other’s company on the plate: the sweet, tender sinews of crab absorb the buttery texture of the stone fruit’s green goodness, creating a harmonious marriage on the palate unrivaled in the realm of simple pleasures.  Along with a cold glass of sparkling rosé, this delectable dinner is truly a treat – tonight, for one, but that doesn’t mean you can’t make it for your sweetie whenever the mood strikes you…

Ravioli and Lobster with Garlic Roe Cream

Lobster roe is under-appreciated in our philistine American culture.  Along with the greenish black tomalley, it’s what’s found inside the lobster meat – either under the carapace (tomalley) or running down the seam of the tail (roe).  It is not lobster shit, as many people erroneously think – instead, it is the liver and eggs of the seabug, and it’s all edible – and in some cases quite delicious.  For tonight’s simple pasta dinner, I decided to use the roe in the sauce to amp up the lobster flavor, and to add to the beauty of the dish, since I think all those little orange dots are super pretty.  And since lobster season is almost over, I need to get me as much of it as I can…

Star Market, of all places, had a good sale on lobsters the other day ($5.99/lb with free steaming), so I picked up a couple bugs and…

… harvested all the meat out of them using my kitchen shears.  Only one was female, so I only pulled out about a tablespoon of roe – which was just enough.

Ravioli and Lobster with Garlic Roe Cream

10-12 oz fresh steamed lobster meat (harvested from 2 lobsters)
1 package fresh cheese ravioli
1 tsp tomato paste
4 tbs butter
3 cloves garlic
1 cup half & half
1 tbs lobster roe
parmigiano reggiano cheese (as needed, but about 1/2 cup will do)
chopped scallions for garnish

I’ve made several recipes quite similar to this one – which illustrates quite clearly how I like to eat my lobster: in cream sauce.  (You can check those out here, and here, and here for starters.)  To make this garlic cream, I start by melting my butter.  (Meanwhile, I bring a pot of water to a boil so that it will be ready for my pasta.)

I’ve minced my garlic…

… which I add to my melted butter to gently saute for a few moments…

…. before straining out the solids (both garlic and butterfats), to make a garlic scented clarified butter.

To this I add my broken up roe…

… and my cream, which I whisk together over medium heat.

I add my tomato paste to give it a little acidic balance…

… and my cheese (about 1/2 cup), since – well, it’s cheese, and I never need an excuse to add cheese to anything!  I add my lobster meat to the sauce for a few moments to heat it back through.

And that’s it!  After whipping up a quick salad and cooking off my pasta for a few minutes (until they just float), I plate up this simple, elegant meal and dive into it face first.  The pink sauce is studded with flavor-intensifying roe, and is gently scented by garlic and cheese.  The raviolis soak up the cream, and the tender lobster meat is buttery and rich and sweet.  My salad compliments all this richness with tangy feta and briny olives, making a perfectly light seafood supper.

Dublin Lawyer, Tiny Potatoes, Frisee and Maytag Bleu with Hot Bacon Dressing

Lobster.  I just can’t get enough of it.  And, while it’s only $3.99 at Al’s Seafood in North Hampton, NH, I can get as much as I like!  Heck – it’s cheaper than chicken breast right now.  Of course, we’re talking new shell lobsters, which don’t pack as much meat as their less-freshly moulted brethren, but even at $4.99 for the hard-shell babies we’re talking great prices.  Clayton’s been working on a friend’s landscaping up by the beach for the last couple weeks, and after finishing up yesterday he brought home 2 one-pounders for me to have my way with.  And have my way I did: I got those babies drunk on whiskey and cream, and I served them up in their own shells, along with some teenie tiny roasted potatoes, grown by the man himself in our little backyard raised bed, and a frisee salad doused with warm bacon dressing.  Dublin Lawyer is apparently the name of this preparation, and I have Maggie Cubbler at  The Loaded Kitchen to thank for showing me this little lovely.  Much appreciation, dear woman – because this was DELICIOUS!

Dublin Lawyer, Tiny Potatoes, Frisee and Maytag Bleu with Hot Bacon Dressing

2 1-1/2lb lobsters, steamed
2 tbs butter
3 cloves garlic, minced
1 cup whiskey
1 cup cream (this is half & half, but heavy would work very well)
20 or so small potatoes
1 tbs dried chives
EVOO
2-3 slices bacon
1 cup red wine vinegar
1/4 cup honey
1 small head frisee
3-4 tbs crumbled, good quality bleu cheese
sea salt, cracked black pepper, snipped fresh chives

These are second generation potatoes, grown from sprouts picked off of potatoes bought at the store but never eaten.  Although the skins are a little tougher than your store bought spuds, the miniature-ness of these home-grown babies is charming.  I scrubbed them very well before dousing them in EVOO, sea salt, black pepper, and dried chives, wrapping them in foil, and chucking them on Little Red for 30-40 minutes to roast through.

Meanwhile, I twist the arms off both my lobsters, then, using my sharp chef’s knife and some kitchen shears, I split ‘em up the middle of the underbelly before flipping them over and cutting through the outer tail shell and carapace, essentially separating the exoskeleton from the meat and innards.

After removing the tail meat and setting it aside, I carefully pull the cephalothorax and abdomen out as well, to free the carapace.  I now have four shell vessels from each bug.

These I wash out and pat dry, reserving them for service later.  The tail meat I chop up after removing the tomalley, and mix it with the meat from the knuckles and claws.

I get a couple thick, beautiful rashers of bacon cooked off in a small pan.

Using a couple tablespoons of the bacon fat, I add 1/2 my minced garlic, my cup of red wine vinegar, and my honey to the pan, which I bring to a roiling boil.  I add my bacon, which I’ve chopped up, back to the pan, along with 1/2 of my fresh snipped chives.  I let this boil down and, voila! warm bacon dressing.

Right before service, I dump the hot dressing over my washed and dried curly endive, which will wilt slightly in it’s bath.  This gets set aside for a few moments, while I bring the rest of dinner together.

I carefully set up my lobster shells; they will act as the vessels by which this gastronomic pleasure is served.

I bring my butter to foaming in a medium, non-stick pan and add the rest of my minced garlic to sweat and sweeten for a moment or two.

Next I add my whiskey.  Tilting the pan away from my face, hair, and eyebrows, and away from anything flammable…

…I ignite the contents of the pan and allow all the alcohol to burn off, which extinguishes the flames.  I love doing this – it’s super-sexy.

Finally, I add my cream.  I bring everything to a healthy boil, which thickens the sauce…

…before tossing in my lobster to heat through.  Since my lobsters were already steamed, I didn’t want to over-cook the meat; if they had only been par-boiled (partially cooked), I would have thrown in the lobster sooner.  But over-cooked lobster is tough and chewy – not at all what these scarlet bugs deserved.

Gently simmered, succulent lobster meat swims in whiskey-soaked garlic-butter cream, and is dressed with snipped fresh chives.  Tender tiny EVOO roasted potatoes help sop up the goodness, and a sharp/sweet/smokey salad of wilted frisee, bacon, and bleu cheese complements the richness on the plate.  My only criticism?  NOT ENOUGH!  Next time, I’m using some 2 pounders, and only serving in half the shell.   As it was, each bite transported me to a magical, halcyon, seaside resort, and when I’d picked all the meat out of the shells I picked them up and poured the sweetsavory cream out of them right down my gullet.  Elegant, but simple.  If this is what Irish barristers enjoy for their dinners, then they’ve got it mighty good.