I called them green sauces, but neither one is really a sauce in the truest sense of the word. The first was inspired by a gorgeous bunch of flat-leaf parsley. It was crisp, green, succulent, and begging to be used immediately. My mind went instantly to the green sauce at Victor’s in the theater district in NYC. Growing up, I was lucky enough to go to a Broadway show now and again. One of our favorite restaurants in the area was Victor’s Cafe. The food was basically Cuban, spicy, well-seasoned, and delicious. I haven’t been there in years, so I can’t vouch for their current cuisine, but back then it was one of my favorites. We always started our meals with shrimp or clams in green sauce. The seafood was always sizzling in its casserole, and the sauce was vibrant with color and flavor. The earthy herbalness of the parsley was balanced with the sharpness of the garlic and the richness of the oil. The underlying salinity of the ocean was both a counterpoint and a perfect match. The bread basket would lie empty as we chased the last drops of sauce with a crust of bread and devoured it.
This memory rose to mind as I contemplated the parsley. I was also fortunate to have been the recipient of some local, organic garlic, and my gaze lingered upon the small purple and white heads. I pulled the leaves from the parsley and combined them in a food processor with some fresh garlic, roasted walnuts, and McEvoy olive oil to make a rough puree. The nuts were inspired by pesto; they added a meaty quality to the sauce, and to my mind, made it a bit more versatile. I left out the cheese so that the parsley and garlic could take center stage, with the nuts and the oil providing a strong support for their performance. I covered the sauce with more oil and left it to rest overnight so the flavors could bloom. It’s wonderful now, but I think it will be better tomorrow. Hopefully, by then I’ll think of the proper accompaniments.
The second sauce was actually inspired by a couple of different things. The first was a bunch of cilantro that was almost as pretty as the parsley. Cilantro is one of those herbs that most people either love or hate. I have a bit of a mixed relationship with it. I love the way that it is almost minty, with cool, herbal, and cleansing qualities that make a perfect foil for rich or spicy foods. I do not love the soapy quality that sometimes threatens to overwhelm all of its positive attributes. As I was pondering what to do with this particular bunch, I remembered something that I read last night.
I am unable to go to sleep unless I do some reading first. At the moment, I am rereading a copy of *The Adventure of Food*. Although I liked them both, I liked this one better. I remembered reading about cilantro last night. I don’t remember which essay it was, but it’s a very good book, and if you look, you’re sure to find it. Anyway, the man in the essay concocted a dip/condiment type thing using cilantro, pine nuts, and roasted garlic. There was more in there, but those were the ones that made an impression on me.
I don’t love pine nuts, so I used Brazil nuts for their meatiness, richness, and subtlety. I roasted the garlic and nuts while I cleaned and picked the cilantro. I processed the warm garlic and nuts with salt, cilantro, and a bit of jalapeño—no seeds or pith, just the walls of a pepper. The residual heat cooked the cilantro, and a bit of alchemy took place. The finished product was actually quite smooth and somehow addictive. The earthiness of the pepper added a bit of heat, the cooked cilantro smoothed out to add herbal notes and a coolness to balance the pepper. The nuts were not crunchy but added a bit of a chew to the whole thing, along with their own unique flavor. The roasted garlic faded to the background, tying things together and lingering on the palate like a fine wine. One bite led to another and another, and then I put it away for fear there would be none left to serve.
Our guests tonight will enjoy it slightly warmed in the oven with a slow-cooked tuna cheek, plum miso puree, and an Espelette pepper chip. As for me, I can envision some freshly baked bread, a cool chunk of Animal Farm Butter, and several spoonfuls of that cilantro stuff, savored while standing up in the kitchen after service.
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