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Sitting in the kitchen next to a bowl of gorgeously orange Fuyu persimmons is an elephant. I’m ignoring this uninvited guest as I dream up ways to use this flavorful fruit at holiday dinner parties, from a composed salad to a delectable port-infused pie. But before I extol the virtues, it’s probably best to address that elephant in the room. In marketing terms, Fuyu persimmons have an image problem in the United States.
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It may be the national fruit of Japan, with a flavor that is a mélange of apples, apricots, pears and vanilla; terribly photogenic; and a perfect partner for all sorts of other seasonal ingredients, but the Fuyu persimmon is often viewed in the U.S. as an oddly exotic curiosity. I blame much of this misunderstanding on its gooey, cloyingly sweet cousin, the American persimmon. But there are big differences between them.
While there are hundreds of varieties of persimmons (botanical genus: diospyros, meaning fruit of the gods), the species can be broken down into two basic types: astringent and non-astringent. The astringent type, familiar as either the American or Hachiya persimmon, is only edible when fully ripe, soft and practically dripping with syrupy pulp. It has been cultivated in Midwestern and Southern parts of the U.S. for centuries, most popular when baked into cakes, quick breads and classic persimmon pudding.
Distinguishing Fuyu persimmons
The non-astringent Fuyu persimmons have a glossy, smooth skin and a fine-grained flesh. They’re as crisp as the best fall apples — and with no hard core and often no seeds, they’re excellent for eating out of hand. Also unlike apples, they won’t turn brown and oxidize when cut, so they are perfect for infusing color into salads. While they are not always widely available across the country and are a bit pricey compared with a typical Granny Smith or Pink Lady, it’s still a wonder to me that they have never caught on during their height of ripeness — late November and the peak of the Thanksgiving season. After all, Fuyus adapt well to a vast range of holiday dishes and seasonal ingredients.
I started tracking fruits, vegetables, cheeses, nuts, spices, wines and spirits that go well with Fuyu persimmons, but finally gave up when the list outgrew my cupboards. In alphabetical order I’d recommend: apricots, arugula, bacon, balsamic vinegar, basil, blood oranges, brown sugar, cherries, cinnamon, citrus, cream, dates, fennel, feta cheese, figs, ginger, gorgonzola cheese, hazelnuts, honey, maple syrup, mascarpone cheese, mint, mozzarella, nut oils, nutmeg, olive oil, pecans, pistachios, pomegranates, prosciutto, red onion, vanilla, watercress.
So far, I’d put pomegranates and tart cherries at the top of the list because their pucker brings out the persimmon’s rich blend of sweetness; chile powders and peppers provide a fun, spicy contrast; and bacon proves that opposites attract with edgy saltiness. In short, you won’t need a recipe for a composed salad. Just open your pantry and refrigerator for inspiration and finish with a drizzle of balsamic vinegar, date molasses and extra virgin olive oil.
But my hands-down favorite? The rich complexity of a well-aged port truly does magical justice to a baked persimmon tart.
Rustic Persimmon Port Tart
I tapped some extraordinary tawny portos to create this pie. Affordably, a Fonseca 10-year old aged tawny porto was used as the primary flavor infusion for the cherries, the persimmons and the sauce. But I went out on a really decadent limb and uncorked a 30-year old tawny porto from Taylor Fladgate for the table presentation. If you serve this porto with a Fuyu-infused dessert like the featured rustic tart, you will never outlive its reputation.
1 cup dried tart cherries
½ cup aged tawny port, plus 1 ounce
1½ pounds Fuyu persimmons
¼ cup sugar
⅛ teaspoon cinnamon
Pinch of salt
1 sheet ready pie dough
All-purpose flour for dusting
2 tablespoons butter
½ cup chopped pecans, mixed with 2 tablespoons dark brown sugar
1 egg yolk, beaten with 1 tablespoon water
2 tablespoons apricot jam
Whipped cream, unsweetened
1. Preheat oven to 350 F.
2. Place dried cherries and ½ cup of the tawny port in a glass dish and microwave for 1½ minutes on high. While prepping the persimmons, let the cherries rest, allowing them to plump and absorb some of the liquid.
3. Peel the persimmons and and roughly cut into ½-inch pieces.
4. In medium mixing bowl, toss the persimmons with sugar, cinnamon, salt. Add the cherries and any remaining liquid. Macerate for 30 minutes.
5. Drain the persimmon mixture and reserve liquid.
6. On a lightly floured surface, roll out pie dough. Transfer to a pie pan, leaving a 2-inch overhanging edge.
7. Mound the persimmons and cherries into a pie pan and gently fold edges back over pie, leaving an open area in the center. Dot with butter and sprinkle with the pecan/sugar mixture.
8. Brush edge of the crust with egg wash.
9. Place in the oven and bake for 45 minutes.
10. While pie is baking, place reserved liquid from macerated fruit with apricot jam and 2 tablespoons of water over medium heat and reduce until thick and syrupy. Stir in 1 ounce of port and set aside.
11. Serve pie with dollop of whipped cream and drizzle with port sauce.
Top photo: Fuyu persimmon. Credit: Caroline J. Beck
by: Caroline J. Beck
Toying with Thanksgiving tradition is tricky – I might disappoint my guests. From prior experience, they will arrive expecting to see the iconic farm table setting of Norman Rockwell’s wonderful mid-20th century painting. They have imagined aromas of a succulent bird with a crackling crust; rich side dishes piled high; and platters of homemade pies. They will not expect a fished, foraged and farmed one-plate meal.
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I will blame it on a recent cross-country trip where the trend toward local foraging was in full force. It caused me to rethink what I am thankful for during this holiday season and what to celebrate.
First stop, a small-town gas station on Minnesota’s river-etched border promoting true wild rice for sale from a local purveyor. Second stop, Santa Fe, New Mexico’s lively farmers market offering fiery chili powder roasted in an horno, or adobe oven, and seasonal wild mushrooms in all their delicate tenderness. Third stop, Sedona, Arizona’s hidden Oak Creek apple orchards heavy with fruit amid the blaze of red rock landscape.
As I wound my way through the countryside, it struck me that the best way to truly celebrate Thanksgiving is to pay homage to all the farmers and foragers who supply this bounty with one dish that explodes with fall season flavor. Wild salmon, foraged chanterelles, true Minnesota wild rice and California winter greens, all dressed with the season’s freshest olio nuovo and true balsamic vinegar. All that and a mountain-high apple pie might just make them forget about Norman Rockwell.
Thanksgiving Salmon Salad
I sheepishly admit that this one-plate dinner also offers a new stress-free approach to Thanksgiving. One that employs one hour of advanced preparation, not two or three days. One that leaves very few dishes to tidy up. And one that won’t have me wrestling over what to do with nonexistent leftovers.
4 cups chicken broth
2 cups wild rice
3 bay leaves
1 teaspoon thyme
¼ teaspoon nutmeg
Extra virgin olive oil, preferably olio nuovo, as needed
1 cup dried tart cherries
True cask balsamic vinegar (see note), as needed
Salt, preferably medium coarse
Freshly ground pepper
1 pound wild mushrooms, preferably Chanterelles
6 wild salmon filets, 6 ounces each
Amarillo chili powder (or any medium hot chili powder)
For the garnish:
2 green onions, chopped
bunch flat-leafed Italian parsley, chopped
1 cup toasted pine nuts
6 lemon wedges
1. Preheat oven to 400 F.
2. On stovetop, bring chicken stock to boil, reduce heat to low simmer and add wild rice, bay leaves, thyme and nutmeg. Cook for 40 to 50 minutes until grains have bloomed and broth is absorbed. Remove bay leaves and stir in dried tart cherries. Let rest while plating the dish and grilling salmon.
3. While rice is cooking, thoroughly clean mushrooms, toss with olive oil, salt and pepper, distribute on parchment-lined cookie sheet and place in preheated oven. After 10 minutes, stir and return to oven for additional 10 minutes. Remove and set aside.
4. Place washed greens on individual plates and dress with a hearty drizzle of balsamic vinegar, olive oil, medium coarse salt and freshly ground pepper.
5. Brush salmon fillets with generous coating of olive oil, season lightly with chili powder, salt and pepper. Grill over medium high heat for 2 to 3 minutes per side, until skin side is crisp and center is still red.
6. Mound rice in center of greens, top with salmon filet and roasted mushrooms, garnish with onions, parsley, pine nuts and a wedge of lemon.
As with any dish, the best ingredients are the keys to successful, robust flavor. Look for the season’s freshest olive oil, known commonly as olio nuovo and rich, syrupy, true balsamic vinegar. While expensive, a little of this elixir goes a long way. I’m partial to The Olive Oil Source’s True Cask 25 from Modeno, Italy, available online.
Top photo: Wild salmon salad. Credit: Caroline J. Beck
Every morning during the fall in Michigan’s thumb, I watch sport fishermen skimming by in boats outfitted with everything from baited poles to fancy outriggers. They are all after the same thing: salmon. Whether the catch is Atlantic, chinook or coho, it doesn’t much matter as long as they reel one in. Some have a knack for it, some get lucky, some just enjoy a quiet morning on the lake. But I like it most of all when someone brings a fish heavy with roe (or eggs) to my home, because it means we will get two treats out of one catch: caviar and a couple of smoked filets.
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Prized specimens from the endangered beluga sturgeon of the Caspian Sea have been illegal for sale in the United States since 2005. Certain lesser grades like sevruga and osetra are available but can be astronomically pricey, at over $4,000 per pound. But fresh eggs from locally caught salmon in the Great Lakes are quite a different matter. Few fishermen bother to save these precious jewels. Fewer still know how simple it is to cure the eggs and prepare fresh caviar. So you can understand why I felt a little giddy when I got my hands on a recent 10-pound catch with two skeins of roe that yielded 2 pounds of beautifully glistening eggs.
The process for transforming the eggs into caviar is deceptively simple and takes about an hour. It involves little more than preparing salt brine and biding your time. Once the eggs are brined to a level that won’t overpower their delicate fish essence, they are ready to serve and share. All that remains is to offer a simple cracker with a smear of sour cream, a mound of cured eggs and a sprinkle of freshly ground pepper and chopped chives, or just a stunning spoonful to your grateful guests, and dig in.
Great Lakes Salmon Caviar
Fresh salmon roe (eggs) (see Note)
1 cup of kosher salt
8 cups of cold water
1. Place the salt and cold water in a large glass or stainless bowl and mix well until salt is dissolved.
2. Gently rinse each egg sac under cool running water to remove as much blood as possible and lower into the salted brine. Refrigerate for 30 minutes.
3. While the eggs are curing, prepare a second bowl fitted with a colander.
4. After 30 minutes, remove the sacs from the refrigerator and place them in the second bowl and colander in a deep sink, reserving the brine.
5. Cover the eggs with hot running tap water (approximately 150 degrees). As the outer membrane is exposed to the heat, it will shrink and begin to pull away from the eggs, making it simple to gentle slough the eggs away from the membrane and into the colander. Within the sac will be threads of more membranes that can be carefully removed by hand.
6. Once the outer membrane is removed and the eggs are separated, continue to refresh the bowl with cool water and stir the eggs, gently rinsing them by hand to remove the smaller white membranes that will float to the surface and may still cling to the eggs. Drain and repeat the rinsing process until the water in the bowl runs clear. This may require several rinses. Remove the colander from the bowl, draining the clear water away from the eggs.
7. Return the eggs to the original salt brine and refrigerate for up to another 30 minutes. Check the eggs at 10-minute intervals, rinsing and tasting the eggs for your desired level of saltiness. Continue to brine if not salty enough. If too salty, replace the brine with fresh water and let the eggs rest. The water will draw out salt until the eggs reach your desired level of brine.
8. Drain the eggs from the brine and store in a clean glass container with tightly fitting lid. Caviar can be served immediately or safely stored in the refrigerator for 7 to 10 days.
Salmon roe can be tricky to find if you don’t know a sport fisherman in salmon territory. Try making friends with a fishmonger instead, or check online purveyors.
Top photo: A dish of cured salmon roe, or caviar. Credit: Caroline J. Beck
Grand Forks is a small middle-American town in North Dakota that was pinned onto the pop culture map last year by a single restaurant review in a local newspaper. When an earnest review of an Olive Garden restaurant went viral on the Internet, the seasoned reporter who penned the story was probably the most surprised of all.
At age 87, columnist Marilyn Hagerty has been reporting stories of local interest in the Grand Forks Herald for 56 years. But that March 2012 review won her recognition beyond her hometown audience. The compilation of her work spanning 26 of those years, entitled “Grand Forks: A History of American Dining in 128 Reviews,” is the delightful result of her overnight success.
My affection for this new book does not stem from defending against supercilious foodies who derided her Olive Garden review, nor jumping on the bandwagon of those who backed her up, like the culinary master of sarcastic retort, Anthony Bourdain. It is much more personal than that. I like her writing style and I can identify all too well with her subject matter.
ZESTER BOOK LINKS
By Marilyn Hagerty
For starters, Hagerty’s first-person voice is full of next-door neighbor character that makes this book fun to read. It’s not often that I break into a chuckle when I’m deep into a cookbook. With every review, she paints a clear picture of the setting, the food and her “Constant Companion,” her meat-eating husband of 64 years. It’s clear from her uncluttered prose that she must have been drawn more to Hemingway than Jane Austen in her formative years. Food journalists everywhere should take a lesson from this.
Describing a local burger joint in 1987, Hagerty wrote:
“You give your order at the counter. They ask your name. You take a seat. They call your name. You pick up your burger and proceed to an extensive topping bar. You take your malt — in the metal can. You eat your burger, your fries and your malt. This is a happy place. This is Topper’s.”
Over the years, Hagerty visited and ate at every local eatery within driving distance of her small hometown, starting with mom-and-pop places popular in the mid-20th century and gradually shifting to well-known national chains and fast-food outlets. Sadly, updated annotations to the reprinted reviews reveal that many of the independent establishments, like Topper’s, are no longer in business. It’s a sign of the times in much of the country, but not everywhere — as I can attest.
‘Grand Forks’ a reminder of home
I spend my summers in a place eerily similar to the Grand Forks of Hagerty’s early work. These places still exist. I live down the street from purely local eateries such as Wimpy’s coffee shop and Bunny’s Custard. There is no McDonald’s, no Starbucks and no other ubiquitous brands unless you count the Subway franchise that pays rent to the corner gas station. Most mom and pop restaurants in town have been in business since I was too young to order on my own.
But years ago, I moved away to expand my culinary horizons and gain exposure to other life experiences. It was not until I had the privilege of reading through Hagerty’s disarming book that I looked at my own backyard in an entirely different light.
In succession, her reviews paint a disappearing landscape of regional fare, blanketed over by the monotonous menus of the chain restaurants. Although it may have been an unintentional long-term project, Hagerty’s new book documents this glacial shift. Some books enlighten because they broaden your horizons. This one simply shined a light on what was already within eyesight and reminded me to enjoy it while I still can.
Top photo composite:
Author Marilyn Hagerty. Credit: John Stennes, Grand Forks Herald
Book jacket courtesy of Ecco Books
This past summer, I was overcome by the latest trend to turn just about anything into a frozen edible. From Bloody Mary popsicles at brunch to Saffron Courvoisier granita for a dinner finale, sassy sorbets were all intriguingly laced with herbs, spices or hip new libations. But when the bloom falls off the rose-flavored sherbet, I am left with a classic flavor that almost never disappoints: chocolate.
I’ll admit that a plain cone of old-fashioned chocolate ice cream somehow doesn’t measure up anymore. In order to make me swoon, it has to be ridiculously rich and creamy. It has to be dark and intensely flavored. And it has to scream chocolate. In short, it has to be that Italian-style frozen dessert called gelato.
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What makes gelato better than ice cream
There are three big differences between ice cream and gelato. First, commercial ice cream frequently uses whole eggs and additives to stabilize the mixture. Gelato just employs yolks. Second, ice cream requires a greater percentage of cream than milk — this is partly because milk produced in the U.S. is not nearly as rich as that from Italy. Third, the amount of air that is whipped into ice cream while turning it into a frozen state is almost four times that of gelato. The industry calls it “overrun.” I call it buying a box of air. Ever wonder why a carton of ice cream feels like it doesn’t weigh much? Typical off-the-shelf cartons in the U.S. hold up to 80% overrun. A true gelato won’t exceed 20%.
I’d be remiss if I didn’t acknowledge that this particular recipe rests on the shoulders of many chefs and cookbook authors whose exhaustive work with frozen desserts guided my explorations. But during the course of 17 tests with varying degrees of success, I discovered there is nothing exceptionally difficult about making great gelato. Luckily, I also discovered three ingredients that help this recipe deliver on the silky-smooth and deep dark promise: extra virgin olive oil, double-dutch dark chocolate powder and 72% chocolate pieces.
Every recipe’s success is based on using quality ingredients. So I rounded up the best mild-flavored Arbequina extra virgin olive oil I could find, some double-dutch dark chocolate powder (I’m partial to King Arthur Flour’s blend of dutch and extra-dark black cocoa) and lots of Valrhona Araguani 72% chocolate fèves, or small bean-shaped disks. You can use any high-quality bittersweet chocolate bar, but the higher the percentage of cocoa butter, the better.
With these ingredients in hand, I knew my own version of chocolate heaven was within reach. Once again, I broke out my ice cream partner-in-crime, my Vitamix. The blender makes almost instant work of preparing the custard that any tabletop ice cream maker can turn into gelato in less than 30 minutes. And when it comes to chocolate gelato, I am all about instant gratification.
Intensely Rich Dark Chocolate Olive Oil Gelato
Makes 6 servings
2½ cups whole milk
1½ cups heavy cream
5 egg yolks
¾ cup sugar
½ cup double-dutch dark cocoa powder
4 ounces 72% chocolate bits or broken bars
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
¼ teaspoon instant espresso powder
Pinch kosher salt
3 ounces mild-flavored extra virgin olive oil, preferably Arbequina
1. Place all ingredients but the olive oil in a high-speed blender (must be capable of generating frictional heat of about 160 F
2. Turn blender on to its highest setting and process for 6 minutes.
3. While continuing to run on high speed, pour in the olive oil and process for 2 minutes. The mixture should reach a temperature of 185-195 F.
4. Pour mixture into bowl and refrigerate for at least 4 hours until well chilled. At this point, the custard can rest as long as overnight before processing.
5. Turn mixture into an ice cream or gelato maker and process according to manufacturer’s directions.
For more flavor, many additives like chopped nuts can be incorporated during the ice cream making process. I included chopped hazelnut chocolate bars added in the last 10 minutes of processing and sprinkled more of the same on top for a garnish.
Preparation alternative: You can make the custard using traditional methods with a double boiler set over medium heat to melt the chocolate, cream and milk. Separately, beat the eggs and sugar into a ribbony texture and slowly, laboriously, stir the mixture, along with the other ingredients, into a creamy consistency. But I vote for simplicity and speed and will use my Vitamix for a flawless finish every time.
Top photo: Chocolate olive oil gelato. Credit: Caroline J. Beck
“Just let it melt on your tongue,” Jose Martinez-Valero instructed. “It will dissolve into pure flavor.” I placed the tiniest sliver of jamón Ibérico de bellota in my mouth and waited. The finely marbled fat melted like silk, but the finish was remarkably pure, strangely akin to a classic palate cleanser.
As I positioned myself to snare another sample in the elbow-room frenzy of the Culinary Institute of America’s Worlds of Flavor conference at Napa, California, Martinez-Valero hit me with an even bigger surprise. “This fat is just like the very best olive oil, it’s monounsaturated. It comes from a breed of Spanish pig we call the four-legged olive tree,” he said.
And suddenly I understood why the mouthfeel was so familiar. With years of olive oil tasting under my belt, it was easy to recognize the difference between greasy, mouth-coating fat and this high-quality clean finish.
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But like high-quality extra virgin olive oil, purebred Ibérico pork is under siege from unscrupulous distributors who pass off crossbred meats as purebred, elitist pricing and a disappearing ecosystem (needed to support the swine’s unusual eating habits). The species has been on endangered or at-risk lists for years, a dwindling breed supported by a handful of dedicated producers on a lifelong mission to avoid extinction — of the pig, its pastureland and their very livelihoods.
Martinez-Valero represents Ibérico Fresco, one of few Spanish distributors of 100% purebred, acorn-fed fresh Ibérico meat in the United States. Over the din of pork belly- and backfat-crazed chefs at the CIA‘s annual event, he spoke passionately about the plight of this pig and its unique grazing land, the dehesa (forest) of the Iberian peninsula in Spain.
“It is the very definition of sustainable agriculture. The man takes care of the forest, the forest takes care of the pig, and the pig takes care of the man,” explained Martinez-Valero.
Raising Ibérico pigs is an expensive labor of love
Ibérico pigs are not particularly pretty, galloping along with long legs supporting a chunky body. They are best identified by their distinctive black hooves, hence the Spanish name, pata negra. There are many different breeds of Ibérico pigs, ranging from the productive, big Torbiscal to the delicate Entrepelado, but they all have certain traits in common that strain any producer’s pocketbook. Those include litters half the size of crossbreds, production cycles that are three times as long, and particularly expensive eating habits.
In contrast to the ordeals of pigs jammed into cramped pens and pumped full of antibiotics seen in television news reports on the pork industry, the lives of purebred Ibérico pigs seem like a scene straight out of a fairy tale.
Watch a video about Ibérico pigs and the farmers who raise them, below:
By Spanish law, truly purebred (genetically 100%) Ibérico pigs are required to attain at least 40% of their weight grazing exclusively on holm oak acorns during the montanera, or period of fattening between October and January. Each pig is provided 2 hectares (about 5 acres) of personal space to reach its best weight. The high oleic acid content of the acorns and the genetic makeup of the Ibérico help convert the pig’s fat into its distinctive monounsaturated marbling.
“It’s a marvel, a machine for making healthy meat. It’s perfection,” said Lucia Maesso Corral, president of Aeceriber, the Iberian Pig Breeders Association. She represents purebred producers who are fighting an uphill battle against lesser quality, far less expensive crossbred options that are allowed to take the name “Ibérico.” But their passion for truth-in-labeling and authentic, quality production is palpable.
Without question, the better-known cured ham version is amazing. But one taste of the fresh meat they now call “the other red meat” and you will understand the depth of these producers’ dedication. For a dinner party of two, I sautéed a secreto of carne de cerdo ibérico de bellota (acorn-fed Iberico pork shoulder skirt) for no more than two minutes per side, classically medium rare with a deep pink in the center, and sliced it like flank steak. Without exaggeration, it may well be the best meat I’ve ever eaten: succulent, sweet, almost nutty. Good enough that we didn’t have the discipline to stop, finishing off the entire cut with no regrets.
Monastrell’s Ibérico Pork with Manchego Cheese and Saffron
I went straight to the best source I know in Spain for a professional’s opinion of the meat. Chef María José San Román of Monastrell in Alicante, Spain, heralds the pig on her Michelin-starred menu with a simple appetizer that showcases the meat by surrounding it with gentle flavors: a foam of Manchego cheese crowned with spring-fresh watercress.
“Many people only know Ibérico ham in its cured form, but fresh cuts of the pig are extraordinary examples of the best pork Spain has to offer,” San Román said. “Like the Manchego cheese it is paired with, Ibérico pork is quintessential Spanish cuisine.”
Serves 6 to 8 as an appetizer
8 teaspoons (40 ml) extra virgin olive oil (preferably Picual variety), plus more for frying
1 pound (500 g) piece acorn-fed purebred Ibérico shoulder loin (presa) (see note below)
1.7 ounces (50 g) salt
100 mg saffron powder (see note below)
1½ ounces (40 g) each of capers, small gherkins, and finely chopped spring onions
2 teaspoons (10 ml) sherry vinegar
¼ pound (100 g) watercress
7 ounces (200 g) Manchego cheese
6 ounces (175 g) fresh cream
5 ounces (150 g) fresh milk
1 pound (500 g) potatoes, cut into matchsticks with a mandoline
Olive oil for frying
Foam maker, such as the iSi Gourmet Whip Plus
1. Marinate the pork for 3 hours in 2 cups (500 ml) of water with salt and saffron powder. Pork should be room temperature before cooking. Do not trim excess fat. Pat meat dry to remove excess moisture.
2. Place a frying pan with a little extra virgin olive oil over high heat. Place meat fat side down and sear for three minutes. Turn over and sear for two minutes on the other side until meat is just pink. Let rest for 5 minutes, slice angled strips against the grain and set aside.
3. Prepare vinaigrette by mixing capers, gherkins, spring onions, sherry vinegar and 8 teaspoons of extra virgin olive oil. Add to watercress and toss to coat.
4. Heat cheese, cream and milk until the cheese is melted, but do not boil. Put through a sieve and into the siphon and keep hot.
5. Deep fry the matchstick potatoes in olive oil and drain on tissue paper.
6. Put the potatoes in the center of the plate, layer slices of pork around it and place the dressed watercress salad on top.
7. Surround with the hot cheese foam.
Fresh, acorn-fed 100% Ibérico pork and saffron powder can be found at tienda.com.
Top photo: Ibérico pigs. Credit: Courtesy of Aeceriber