Okay, this week I didn't exactly cook from the book, but I started there...
A local butcher now has seafood once a week! A guy in a truck brings it over the mountains to us from the Cheseapeake Bay. I hadn't cooked scallops since... well, ever, now that I think of it. Bay scallops don't successfully sear, I understand, so I went old school, and opened up Julia to Coquilles St. Jacques a la parisienne. While I was at it, I looked at versions in my other books, and poked around on the web. In the end, what I made was a melding of Julia's and a simpler but still classic rendition from "St. Jacques" Pepin. The clincher was that his version uses tarragon, another unexpected delight I'd bought the same day as the scallops from the local-foods market.
Somewhere in the depths of the sitting-room cabinets are the scallop shells my mother used in the sixties when this dish was all the rage, but I decided just to go with a #24 gratin for the pound of scallops. A base of chopped mushrooms sauteed with onions, combined with chopped tarragon and parsley, topped with the poached scallops, then with a sauce made with the reduced poaching liquid and heavy cream, topped with cheese. Fantastic with a salad of greens with blood orange vinaigrette. Super rich, of course; next time I'll only get a half pound for the two of us, and dig out those shells. But what a nice treat; it helped us shrug off six inches of unseasonal snow. Because the scallops were just barely poached, the leftovers stood up to being re-broiled under a layer of cheesy-buttery breadcrumbs the next day.
The snow is sticking around for at least another day or two, so I'm not feeling as desperate for spring foods as I'd expected, and not making anything for Easter that I haven't cooked several times before. So will see y'all later on...