Poach

A poached egg is easily cooked, incredibly nutritious, economical, and easily served at any meal. Poached eggs perched on a buttered toasted slice of tender bread is a perfect breakfast; a shimmering bowl of chicken broth served with an egg poached in it is a nourishing lunch that can generate a warm sense of well-being; and curly endive tossed in a warm vinaigrette with bacon and topped with a poached egg is a favorite dinner salad of mine—the egg enriching the vinaigrette as it coats the leaves. A poached egg is cracked from its shell and cooked in water, stock, or, sometimes, wine until the white has just solidified and the yolk has heated through. The poaching liquid should be very hot, but without any bubbles breaking the surface. This gentle still heat keeps the white tender and helps the egg keep its shape while cooking. Fresh eggs are best. A fresh egg cracked onto a plate has a thick, jellylike white that clings to the deep orange yolk, which stands up plump and high. As eggs age, their flavor dissipates and their whites thin out to the point of being watery at the edges, making it difficult to poach one with any success. Use a heavy pan for even heat dispersal, which helps keep the eggs from sticking to the bottom. If a heavy pan is not available, use a flame tamer. A relatively shallow pan will make it easier to remove the eggs from the hot water. I use a low-sided saucepan. Fill the pan with water 2 to 3 inches deep, add a large splash of vinegar, and put the pan over a medium fire. The vinegar speeds the coagulation of the whites, keeping them from billowing out into the water. Use good-tasting vinegar, as you will be able to taste it slightly. I add about 1 tablespoon to 4 cups of water, but if you particularly like the flavor of vinegar on your eggs (and it is delicious), add more. When poaching eggs in soup or broth don’t use the vinegar. Carefully, without breaking the yolks, crack the eggs into individual cups or small bowls. This way you can easily remove any fragments of eggshell and it will be easier to slip each egg gently into the water; and if you do break a yolk, you can set it aside for another use. When the water is very hot, but not bubbling, hold the cup right at the level of the water and carefully slide the egg in. This gentle entry into the water will help the egg keep its shape. After a minute you can gently stir the water a while to discourage the eggs from sticking to the bottom of the pan. Use care, though; the eggs are very delicate until the whites are set. Lower the heat if the water begins to simmer. The cooking time will vary depending on the number of eggs, their size, and the temperature they were when they went into the water. On average, a single large egg straight from the refrigerator will take about 3 minutes to cook. The white will be set but the yolk will still be soft; for a firmer yolk allow up to 5 minutes. Test for doneness by gently lifting the egg with a slotted spoon and pressing it gently with your finger to feel how set the white and yolk are. Carefully remove the cooked eggs and drain for a moment on a towel, blotting the top very gently to dry. When cooking for a crowd, freshly poached eggs can be kept for a few minutes in a bowl of warm water or stock while another batch is being cooked.

Fish is particularly good when poached; its fine flavor and texture are preserved in the gentle heat of the liquid. Submerged until done in hot, but not boiling, liquid, the flesh remains moist, tender, and light. Salmon, halibut, cod, sole, and trout are a few examples of fish that are well suited to poaching, whole or in steaks or fillets. Anything from plain salted water to a flavorful vegetable stock with wine (called a Court Bouillon; see page 335) can be used for the liquid. Because of its delicate flavors, poached fish is best served with a simple sauce such as a butter sauce, a mayonnaise, or a variation of salsa verde. Another way to poach fish, especially for a casual meal, is slightly different from the classic method of completely submerging the fish in the poaching liquid. I call it shallow poaching. There’s no special stock to make, the fish is in and out of the pan and onto the table in a matter of minutes, and a quick delicious sauce can be made from the liquid. Fill a low-sided heavy pan with an inch or two of water, or enough to come about halfway up the sides of the fish. Add a good splash of white wine (or a smaller one of wine vinegar); a sprig or two of parsley, fennel, or thyme—or a combination; and a large pinch of salt. Sometimes I float a slice or two of lemon in the water. Bring this to a boil and immediately turn it down to a barely perceptible simmer. Put in the fish, having seasoned it first with salt. Cook the fish for a few minutes on one side, carefully turn it over, and continue cooking until done. Be sure the water does not come back to a boil during the cooking. A thin fillet about 1/2 inch thick will cook in 5 to 7 minutes; a thick steak may take up to 12 minutes. Probe the fish to monitor the doneness. When done, remove the fish with a slotted spatula to a warm plate. To make a quick pan sauce, raise the heat and reduce the liquid by half. Have ready two generous pats of butter cut into small pieces. Whisk or swirl in the butter, bit by bit. Turn off the heat and remove the pan from the burner when the last bit of butter is added, and finish incorporating it off the heat. Taste the sauce and add, as needed, a squeeze of lemon or a pinch of salt or both. Pour the sauce over the warm fish and serve. Very thin fillets such as sole can be cooked in even less water, with butter already added. Pour 1/4 inch of water into a heavy pan, season with salt, and add a sprig or two of fresh herbs. Pour in a splash of wine or wine vinegar and about 2 tablespoons of butter. Put the pan over medium heat and when the liquid is just below a simmer, add the seasoned fillets and cover the pan. Cook until done, for 4 to 5 minutes, checking occasionally to monitor the heat. Remove the fish, raise the heat, and bring the sauce to a boil to thicken it. Taste and adjust the seasoning as needed. Pour the sauce over the fish and serve.

Moscato is not well known in this country, but this sweet, fizzy wine is very often served at the end of Italian meals along with dessert or just some cheese and fruit. Here I use it to poach beautiful whole pears; the cinnamon poaching liquid is then reduced to a syrup. It’s the perfect ending to a Thanksgiving dinner because it’s not too sweet or too heavy, and it’s absolutely gorgeous on the plate—not to mention how it fills the whole house with holiday fragrance. Serve flutes of chilled Moscato alongside for a very elegant finish to a fancy meal.

Sour cherries are too acidic to eat raw but are the best for cooking. This simple preparation amounts to cherry pie without the crust.

Serve the meat with a variety of garnishes, which you and your guests can combine any way you like.

This traditional Chinese dish is simple to make: You boil the soy and wine along with some water, ginger, and crushed sugar and add star anise and scallion for flavor. The chicken is boiled too—not simmered, really boiled—but only for ten minutes; it finishes cooking in the liquid with the heat turned off. There are unusual but inexpensive ingredients that make this dish slightly better: mushroom-flavored soy sauce, which is dark and heavy; yellow rock sugar, a not-especially-sweet, lumpy sugar that must be broken up with a hammer before use; and mei kuei lu chiew, or “rose wine,” a floral wine that smells like rose water and costs two bucks a bottle. But don’t knock yourself out looking for any of these—I give substitutions in the recipe. But if you can easily acquire them, do, because this sauce can be used time and again, as long as you freeze it between uses (or refrigerate it and bring it to a rolling boil every few days) and top up the liquids now and then.

Thin fish fillet can be tricky to prepare, mostly because they fall apart the instant they’re overcooked. But the fact that quarter-inch-thick fillets of flounder, sole, and other flatfish take so little time to cook can be an advantage. By poaching them in barely hot liquid, you slow the cooking and gain control. By flavoring the liquid first with a quick-cooking aromatic vegetable, you create a dish that needs only bread or rice to become a meal. Unlike with broiling or sautéing, the fish never dries out. The traditional liquid for poaching fish is court bouillon, a stock made from scratch using fish bones, onions, carrots, and celery enhanced with white wine and herbs. Assuming you don’t have any court bouillon on hand—and who does?—my poaching liquid of choice is chicken stock, and the canned variety is fine, because you’re going to add flavor to it, and quickly, in the form of leeks and fish.

This is a simple marriage of butter, shallots, and mushrooms, splashed in a dose of hard cider (the dry, sparkling kind from France or England, sold nearly everywhere you can buy beer and wine) and used to poach fish in a hot oven. The fish may be haddock, cod, monkfish, halibut, red snapper, or any other white-fleshed fish. The cider provides a distinctively sour fruitiness, not at all like white wine, and the completed dish has complementary textures: crunchy shallots, meaty mushrooms (portobellos are good here), and tender fish.

You can buy peeled shrimp, but shrimp poached in their shells have more flavor (as do shrimp poached in salt; the water should taste salty). If you’re going to peel the shrimp yourself, as I recommend, it pays to buy larger shrimp and cut down on the work. Go for those in the range of 30 to 40 per pound (sometimes labeled U-40 as in “under 40”), or even larger if the cost is not prohibitive. To subtly improve the flavor of the shrimp, add other seasonings to the poaching liquid—the easiest thing is to grab a handful of pickling mix, which usually contains peppercorns, allspice, bay leaf, and coriander and dill seeds. Throw in a couple of cloves of garlic or a piece of onion if you like.

This is a nearly traditional salad in which the grapefruit plays a leading role, complementing mild shrimp and allowing you to make an almost ridiculously easy dressing, made up of nothing more than fish sauce (called nam pla in Thailand and nuoc mam in Vietnam), or soy, lime, a bit of sugar, and some water. Use good shrimp—Pacific or Gulf whites are the best, though the less expensive and widely available tiger shrimp are acceptable—and buy them big, because you’ll have fewer to peel.

The perfect poached egg isn’t easy to achieve, and it’s unlikely you’ll produce one on your first try. Patience. If you want to get good at it, sacrifice a dozen or two and practice. Or don’t worry so much; a ragged-looking poached egg tastes just as good as a lovely one. Just don’t overcook.

Few people hard-cook eggs correctly (and I myself have changed my technique about five times in the last thirty years, though I do think this is it). For one thing, they should not be boiled. For another, they should not be overcooked. Here’s how.

A Chinese dish that is also seen in parts of Southeast Asia. Serve with Ginger-Chile Sauce. Even more than usual, be sure to use a good-quality chicken here; its flavor is what makes the rice special.

Served throughout China to celebrate the New Year, birthdays, and anniversaries, this simple poached chicken is often accompanied by no more than soy sauce for dipping, though the equally appropriate Ginger-Scallion Dipping Sauce (page 583) is my favorite. Since this is served at room temperature or cold, you can easily make it ahead of time.

This is a typical Eastern European dish, rich with flavor, its sweetness tempered by the lemon juice. It makes a nice presentation, especially if you use a meaty fish like carp. The same technique can be applied to any fish fillet: reduce the cooking time to 10 minutes (or less; the fish is done when the point of a thin-bladed knife inserted into the thickest part meets little resistance). You might want some mashed potatoes or rice here, along with a simple salad.

A delicate and subtle preparation that can also be made with monkfish, striped bass, sea bass, or other firm-fleshed fish. Serve with Braised Leeks (page 465).

A quick and simple dish, one that produces a beautiful sauce to use on white rice. Halibut is ideal here, but swordfish steaks are great too, and you can even make this preparation with thick white fillets of grouper, red snapper, or sea bass. Use dashi (which can be prepared in just a few minutes) if at all possible, chicken stock if not.

Poaching a tenderloin of beef is the surest way to obtain perfectly and uniformly rare meat. Whether you choose a 2-pound piece, which will easily serve four, or a larger one, the procedure and results are consistently the same, making the dish ideal for dinner parties. As long as the meat is of fairly consistent thickness, every slice you cut—with the exception of the very ends—will look like the others. Buying the beef is simple but usually can be made even simpler with an advance call to the butcher; ask for the thick (châteaubriand) end of the tenderloin, 2 to 3 pounds (he will be willing to cut it to any size you like), in one piece, tied. If you allow the meat to reach room temperature before poaching, cooking time will be reduced by a few minutes; but it will be no longer than 20 and probably shorter anyway. It’s key to serve the meat with a variety of garnishes from which you and your guests can choose: minced shallots, good mustard, chopped cornichons, coarse salt, soy sauce, even ketchup. These can be combined—I favor mustard combined with shallots and cornichons. I’d like a potato gratin with this recipe (page 482), but any potato dish (including good old mashed potatoes) would be fine, as would almost any nicely prepared vegetable. Bread, too.

No rib-cooking technique makes more sense than the one used in Korea, which begins with a tenderizing poaching and continues with a kind of dry-roasting in the fat and juices exuded by the ribs themselves, along with a dose of strong seasonings. It results in ribs that are dark, glossy, and so tender that just a tug of the teeth will pull them off the bone. If possible, ask your butcher to cut the ribs into 2-inch lengths, which will make them easier to cook (and to eat). I love these preceded by Pajon (page 80) and, of course, with some Kimchi (page 444) on the side, but you may serve them with white rice and a simple steamed vegetable. Other cuts of meat you can use here: short ribs (which will take considerably longer to cook in step 2).

There is a whole class of Kashmiri, Pakistani, and northern Indian meatballs that have the reputation of being extremely difficult to make, because the meat must be minced and pounded repeatedly until very, very smooth. But guess what? The food processor is so efficient at this that the meatballs are now practically fast food. Typically quite large, meaning one or two per person is plenty. Serve with any rice dish, or Paratha (page 559). Haaq (page 487) is another typical dish from Kashmir that would go well here.