Wine-Poached Sea Scallops with a Coconut-Cucumber-Basil Broth and the Art of Failure

Wine-poached sea scallops with a coconut milk-cucumber-basil broth and shaved golden beets, baby fennel, breakfast radishes, charred scallions.

Wine-poached sea scallops with a coconut milk-cucumber-basil broth and shaved golden beets, baby fennel, breakfast radishes, and charred scallions. For the broth, I brought 1 1/2 cups of unsweetened coconut milk to a boil with 2 tbsp of sugar. Once boiling, I turned off the heat and steeped the leaves from one bunch of basil for 30 minutes. I removed the leaves and blended the broth with a peeled cucumber and shallot in the food processor. It was put through a mesh strainer and seasoned with kosher salt and white pepper. The broth is served chilled. I cleaned four sea scallops and sliced each one horizontally into four discs. They were poached in Gewürtztraminer with pink peppercorns. One radish, a golden beet, and two baby fennel bulbs were shaved. Four scallions were charred on a grill pan and sliced. This makes four appetizer portions.

In cooking, I often take inspiration from failure. This was the case for a recent dinner I made in celebration and thanks for my brother being in town to show his documentary film and to meet with my students. The menu that I composed arose from my love of reacting to what looks fresh at the market and also my obsession with transforming previous debacles into successes. The culprit this time was a terrible dish of pan-seared sea scallops with a lifeless rutabaga purée that I cooked for Holly and myself a few weeks ago. Why rutabagas? It was a whim. Unfortunately, the purée was seriously lacking in flavor and its texture was off. The scallops were prepared fine, but I realized that I only ever seem to pan-sear them and line them up on a plate with some sauce. The way I used them was a failure of imagination. Deciding to cook a meal for my brother gave me the opportunity to get revenge on those culinary flops.

I have a friend who gives a kind of motivational lecture about writing poetry in which he insists that you have to permit yourself to fail spectacularly in order to create poems that have vitality and urgency. Of course this is for the drafting process, where you perform the work of risk and error that will eventually lead to the finished poem. It’s a hard analogy to make with cooking if we take a single meal as the comparison. When I screw up a meal, I may be able to adjust and salvage as I go along, but if not, the meal’s a bust. The “drafts” I create in cooking are those previous meals with all their successes and disasters that eventually inform new dishes, new menus. It’s important for me to have these trials and errors, and not only because repetition helps in training for technique. They are also essential to developing your palate and culinary repertoire.

Marinated mushroom and tomato salad with baby romaine lettuce, beet greens, and a white Balsamic vinaigrette. The mushrooms are hen of the woods that have been blanched in salted, boiling water and marinated with sherry vinegar, olive oil, kosher salt, cracked black pepper, coriander seeds, fennel fronds, and thyme.

Marinated mushroom and tomato salad with baby romaine lettuce, beet greens, and a white Balsamic vinaigrette. The mushrooms are hen of the woods that have been blanched in salted, boiling water and marinated with sherry vinegar, olive oil, kosher salt, cracked black pepper, coriander seeds, fennel fronds, and thyme. The meal started with this salad.

 

Maybe the analogy here is closer to what I heard another poet say recently about his creative process. He said that he likes to think of writing poems as something similar to the “Danger Room” of the X-Men comics. You’ve got to treat a draft as a place where you can safely practice your powers without the fear that you’ll irrevocably ruin the world around you. I wouldn’t recommend approaching every meal in this way, but it is important for me to have those in-between meals, those experiments and spectacular failures that end in exciting transformations.

My desire for a new way of preparing scallops led to poaching, although I have to admit that a crudo crossed my mind first. The rutabaga purée became a rutabaga-celery root-bleu cheese purée. Definitely an improvement.

A thick French-cut pork chop with a blood orange-apple-cranberry chutney; sunflower sprout coleslaw; and a rutabaga-celery root-bleu cheese purée.

A thick French-cut pork chop with a blood orange-apple-cranberry chutney; sunflower sprout coleslaw; and a rutabaga-celery root-bleu cheese purée. This dish was served as the main course.

 

The meal ended with this berry crostata.

The meal ended with this berry crostata.

 

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