At least once, on any given weekend, I can be found out on the balcony, tending to our family of herbs. Admittedly, they often look like they are struggling a bit despite my best efforts, yet I persevere. There’s a great satisfaction involved when you are able to step outside, kitchen shears in hand, to give this or that plant a quick haircut, without having to get thee to the shops to buy a whole bunch of something when all you want is a sprig. I remember when we first moved into our apartment and all we had were donated pots of rosemary and cumquat (vale cumquat!). Now we have at least 15 pots and counting, and I’ve learnt that some herbs just don’t grow well under my care. Sweet Basil is one such tricky customer, as is coriander. A good place to start when you’re looking to grow your own family, is flat leaf parsley, which I’ve found is pleasingly difficult to kill. Add some chives and tarragon, and you’ve got a fine collection of fines herbes in the making.

Fines herbes, literally meaning sweet herbs, is a combination of finely chopped fresh herbs, typically featuring pairings such as parsley, chervil, tarragon and chives, or basil, chervil and thyme. They are often added to uncooked dishes such as salads, or to a dish at the end of the cooking time, such as omelettes and soups. They are also an important ingredient in Sauce Gribiche.

Gribiche is a versatile herby sauce of French origin. It traditionally contains chopped boiled egg, cornichons, capers and fines herbes, and is often seen defined as a vinaigrette. However, most of the time when I see it in restaurants, it’s bound like a mayonnaise, somewhat resembling a tartare sauce, which is why I usually associate it with battered fish and chips. The Zuni Cafe version of this sauce is more like the latter. It is quick and easy to prepare (provided emulsification is not something you find daunting) and equally easy to fall in love with. This tastily textured sauce is my contribution to WHB #114. You can use Gribiche slathered over bread in sandwiches, as a condiment to accompany most types of seafood and chicken dishes, or even in potato salad, which Judy Rodgers says turns ordinary potato salad into great potato salad!

4 minute Egg Gribiche :
(from The Zuni Cafe Cookbook by Judy Rodgers)

1 large egg
salt
2 teaspoons Dijon mustard
1 1/4 to 1 1/2 cups mild-tasting olive oil
1 tablespoon finely diced shallot (about 1 medium shallot)
1 tablespoon tightly packed chopped fresh herbs (a combination of parsley, chervil, and chives, plus a little tarragon or dill)
1 tablespoon capers, rinsed, pressed dry between towels, and slightly chopped
about 2 teaspoons sherry vinegar or red wine vinegar

Place the egg in a small pot of barely simmering water and bring to a boil, then reduce the heat and simmer for about 4 minutes. Drain and leave to cool in a bowl of ice water.

When the egg is sure to be cool, crack it and scrape into a small bowl. Stir in a pinch or two of salt and the mustard. Mash together, then begin whisking in the oil, a trickle or a few drops at first, then gradually increasing the flow to a thin stream. Stop adding oil when the mayonnaise is satiny and has lots of body, like hot fudge sauce. Stir in the shallots, herbs, and capers. Add vinegar and salt to taste.

Once upon a time, I cooked so much caponata at work that I got put off by the smell of eggplant fried in olive oil. I can’t even remember what we used it for, except that it disappeared quickly and after every lunch service, I was always back at the stove, frying off more salted eggplant and red capsicum.

It took a casual flip through a recent upholstered acquisition to stir up memories of why I love this rich, textured and tangy concoction. The clincher? It’s the smallest sprinkling of grated bitter chocolate, stirred in at the end, which is not meant to be discernible as such. Rather, Maggie says it adds a certain mysterious note, and there’s nothing I like more than mystery in my mixtures.

Maggie suggests serving this with game, but the only game we have in the house at the moment is Scrabble. So leftover Christmas ham it is!

The End.

Caponata :
(from Maggie’s Harvest by Maggie Beer)

extra virgin olive oil, for cooking
3 eggplants, cut into 2cm cubes
2 sticks celery, cut into 1cm pieces
2 large onions, cut into 1cm pieces
1 x 410g can peeled chopped tomatoes (or 5 chopped ripe roma tomatoes and 1 tablespoon tomato paste)
1 1/2 cups pitted and sliced green olives
1/3 cup (65g) capers
1 tablespoon sugar
1/4 cup (60ml) red-wine vinegar
1/2 teaspoon grated bitter chocolate

Pour enough olive oil into a heavy-based frying pan to reach a depth of 3cm and heat until very hot. Throw in a small piece of bread or eggplant to test whether the oil is hot enough – if it turns golden brown immediately, the oil is ready. Fry a quarter of the eggplant until golden brown on all sides, then remove with a slotted spoon to drain on kitchen paper. Fry the remaining eggplant in batches, then cook the celery in the same oil. Discard the oil, wipe out the pan, then add 60ml fresh olive oil and place the pan over low heat.

Saute the onion in the olive oil until translucent, then add the tomatoes (and the paste, if you are using fresh tomatoes) and cook for 10 minutes. Stir in the olives and capers and cook for about 10 minutes more, or until the sauce is thick. Add the sugar, vinegar, eggplant and celery, then add the chocolate and leave it to melt. Carefully stir until the melted chocolate is combined, then remove the pan from the heat and leave the caponata to cool overnight. Serve at room temperature.

[Note: For chocolate, I used Michel Cluizel 72%, which I like for it’s purity of flavour]