Cooking With Jim

COOKING WITH JIM actually, with him in spirit, in the kitchen of his quaint brownstone on West 12th Street in Manhattan, decades after his death. And quite at home with him, I chop and slice; bake, twice-baked potatoes — their skins crisping to perfection; roast, the prime tenderloin of beef he’d earlier instructed me to hand-rub with coarsely ground black pepper and kosher salt. (I used sea salt and that was ok with him.) Right now, he’s reminding me to stir my roux, then I should add the crisp bacon bits, made earlier, to the finely chopped spinach I just finished sautéing. He says I should wait till the last minute to toss the mélange of local field greens with the lemongrette he had me make in lieu of vinaigrette, because, it seems that vinegar often spoils the taste of wine. As for the wines with dinner: for the salad, I’m chilling a 2011 Seyval Blanc from New York State; with the beef dish, a 10-year-old California Zinfandel; this followed by a 2010 Pinot Noir from Oregon, paired with artisanal cheeses from Vermont and Connecticut, plus crisp sourdough rolls and flatbread; and, in the frig, chilling, a late-harvest, Long Island Riesling to complement the secret confection hidden away on a silver tray till dessert-time. According to Jim, red wine should be served at room temperature, and since older reds have a layer of sediment in the bottle, he said the Zin will need to be decanted, and that, right before serving; he wants the Pinot to breathe 15 minutes, or so, in the glass before being drunk. (The aeration of younger reds will rid those wines of their chalky tasting tannins.) All this for my guests who’ll soon be sitting round my dining table akin to Jim’s 60 inch round green marble slab of a tabletop, where, before the first bite of the Jim-inspired, 5-star meal, I’ll raise my glass to the big bald guy — James Beard, “The Father of American Cuisine.”