Frozen Assets

Thawed for today: A cold mine of freezer gourmandise it wasn't too many years ago that a man had to pay an exorbitant price to whip up a beef stew or chicken cacciatore. Not in dollars and cents, mind you, but in a far more precious commodity: time. Whether the time put in was debited as toil or credited as fun, it was still measured in hours, not minutes. For the busy bachelor, the man-hours consumed in concocting a bouillabaisse, for instance, put its gourmandial delights beyond his reach. Long before the actual cooking began, there just weren't enough hours in the day to forage for the dozen or so different kinds of fish and seafood destined for the pot. And it's precisely in this domain of fine eating -- among the rich, classic peasant casseroles as well as the intricate hors d'oeuvres and opulent desserts -- that the latest frozen luxuries offer such an effortless modus operandi for the male host today. The supposed inferiority of things frozen has been pronounced so often and for so long that many otherwise hip hosts still cling to some ice-age misconceptions about freezer-fostered haute cuisine. Everybody remembers when thick shell steaks, prime filets mignons, squabs, pheasant and calves' sweetbreads were the hot monopolies of a few exclusive bistros and supper clubs. Now with no more expenditure of time and energy than it takes to slip into a gourmet shop and reach into its frozen vaults, cosmopolite cliff dwellers have at their fingertips the whole field of epicurean eating. The almost endless ice floe, both raw and cooked, starts with frozen hors d'oeuvres and builds up through potages, seafood, meat, game, legumes, soufflés, garlic bread, croissants and even crepes suzette. Although gourmets for some time have been writing their own ticket for the best prime beef east or west of the Chicago stockyards by simply sending a postcard to any of a long list of frozen gourmet meat centers, it is equally true that until recently few frozen provisions stood on a plane of social equality with their fresh counterparts. It was an undeserved status in many instances, because some of the frozen provender always outranked the fresh. Patty shells, baked from frozen dough, have invariably taken the honors away from patty shells baked from the same dough while fresh. From the standpoint of tenderness, frozen beef has always been several cuts above the fresh, unless the latter is aged six weeks -- a prerequisite that puts most beef out of the running. In other cases, the frozen-versus-fresh debate has been purely academic, because the fresh versions simply aren't around at any price. For years the entire Long Island duckling crop has been frozen. Rock Cornish game hens (the original birds bred in Connecticut -- not the numerous impostors now on the market) have always been processed frozen. And, incidentally, where are tons of Rock Cornish game hens shipped to every year? To the Continent, where gastronomes rail against the deviltries of the deep freeze on the one hand, and consume the succulent birds from America by the tens of thousands, on the other.

To thaw or not to thaw is a question that often perplexes frozen-food chefs. Usually meat which is cooked while still frozen hard isn't likely to suffer drip loss. But thick frozen steaks or chops flung immediately on a fierce fire may become scorched beyond recognition while their centers remain raw. To avoid this carnivoral contretemps, defrost your steaks or thick chops beforehand. A one-inch frozen steak takes about three and a half hours at normal room temperature to thaw. Have your fire hot but not a holocaust. The steaks should be put on a few moments before the three-and-a-half-hour deadline has elapsed. Thinner meats like frozen calves' liver, hamburgers and single rib chops may be cooked unthawed and will retain all their lush natural flavor.

Standing ribs may be put on the fire thawed or unthawed. If they're thawed, you allow the normal 18 to 20 minutes per pound roasting time. Unthawed ribs take an extravagant 45 minutes per pound, and, of course, you can't insert a meat thermometer until the hard center of the meat becomes reasonably soft. If you're working with frozen raw meat for stews, ragouts, pot roasts and the like, you can go right ahead and thaw the meat without a worry, since all of the juices which are resolved into a dew beforehand go right into the pot with the meat's natural gravy.

If your galley enjoys the streamlined blessing of a freezer, be sure the temperature is kept at zero degrees Fahrenheit or lower. Above zero, the quality of some foods is set back a notch or two. A word of caution: frozen stores do not keep indefinitely.

Frozen-food packagers are sometimes guilty of one misdemeanor. Their conception of a portion -- that is, enough of a serving to satisfy the inner man -- usually errs on the side of too little. For instance, you'll need three seven-oz. portions of a well-known chicken cacciatore to satisfy two gentlemen of normal appetite. Guide your buying accordingly.

Many of the precooked frozen dishes are enhanced by the simple gesture of adding the seasoning or herb which identifies the dish. A little dry red wine added to the coq au vin, a dash of dry sherry mixed in with the lobster newburg, a dollop of sour cream stirred into the beef Stroganoff at the last moment, all make meaningful contributions.

In the final analysis, any type of precooked frozen gourmandise will taste neither better nor worse than what went into it. The implication here is plain. Brands, like faces, are necessarily different from one another. Often it's fun to score the differences between them.

There will always be chefs who will argue that cooking is a personal art, an individual expression, and that precooked frozen viands abandon this art to the assembly line. The answer is that the topflight frozen foods, like coquille St. Jacques and beef Stroganoff, aren't mass produced, and if they distress a few purists, it's only because these delicacies are somebody else's art. It's like the sculptor who won't walk into a museum because of what he will surely have to grudgingly admire. Actually, the sheer number of newer raw frozen foods now available builds up rather than diminishes the amateur chef's opportunities for creative cookery.

Here, then, hot off the ice, are this month's exhibits from our own frozen gallery.

[recipe_title]Planked Filet Mignon[/recipe_title]

(Serves four)

Oval hardwood planks, once the sturdy ornaments of fine steak- and chophouses, where they were used for the actual cooking, are employed these days as platters for transporting broiled meat from the fire to the dining table. They are still put into the oven or under the broiler for browning the rich potato border that surrounds other foods which are not cooked on the plank. Constructed with grooves for gathering the meat's juices, they are usually obtainable in shops specializing in gourmet utensils. New planks should be brushed with oil and heated for about a half hour in a hot oven before using. Eventually they become richly charred.

[recipe]4 frozen filets mignons, 8 ozs. each, thawed[/recipe]

[recipe]2 3-1/8-oz. pkgs. frozen whipped potatoes[/recipe]

[recipe]6 egg yolks, well beaten[/recipe]

[recipe]5-oz. pkg. frozen mushrooms or fresh mushrooms[/recipe]

[recipe]9-oz. pkg. frozen artichoke hearts[/recipe]

[recipe]10-oz. pkg. frozen mixed vegetables[/recipe]

[recipe]4-oz. pkg. frozen French fried onions[/recipe]

[recipe]Salt, pepper[/recipe]

[recipe]Butter[/recipe]

Cook potatoes, following directions on package, but using only 1 cup boiling water per package instead of the usual 1-1/2 cups. Blend egg yolks into potatoes, mixing well so that there are no dry "pockets." Using a large pastry bag and tube, form a border of potatoes around the edge of each of four planks. Cook mushrooms, artichoke hearts, mixed vegetables and onions, following directions on packages. Broil or panbroil filets until brown on each side. Filets must be rare. Season with salt and pepper. Preheat oven to 450°. Place planks with potato border in oven until tops of potatoes are lightly browned. Brush filets with butter and place them, topped with mushrooms, on each plank and return to oven for about a minute for final heating. Remove planks from oven. Arrange vegetables in small mounds around filets, filling planks completely. Place planks on large plates or platters and carry to table.

[recipe_title]Roast Squab, Apple Stuffing[/recipe_title]

(Serves four)

[recipe]4 frozen squabs, thawed[/recipe]

[recipe]2 tablespoons butter[/recipe]

[recipe]1 medium-size Rome Beauty apple, peeled and cored[/recipe]

[recipe]1/4 cup butter[/recipe]

[recipe]1/4 cup minced onion[/recipe]

[recipe]1/4 cup minced celery, including leaves[/recipe]

[recipe]3 slices stale white bread[/recipe]

[recipe]1/2 teaspoon powdered sage[/recipe]

[recipe]Salt, pepper[/recipe]

[recipe]Salad oil[/recipe]

(concluded on page 104) frozen assets (continued from page 58)

Remove livers from squabs. Sauté livers in 2 tablespoons butter until brown. Chop livers coarsely. Cut apple into small dice. Melt 1/4 cup butter in saucepan. Add apple, onion and celery and sauté slowly until vegetables are tender, not brown. Cut bread into small cubes. Make bread crumbs by blending about 1/4 cup bread cubes at a time in the well of an electric blender. Combine livers, apple mixture and bread crumbs, mixing well. Add sage, and salt and pepper to taste. Stuff each squab with bread-crumb mixture. Fasten vent of each squab with toothpicks or poultry pins. Brush squabs with oil and sprinkle with salt and pepper. Preheat oven to 450°. Roast squabs 20 minutes. Reduce heat to 350°, and roast about 40 minutes longer or until birds are brown and tender. Serve with blackberry jelly or wild blueberry jam.

[recipe_title]Patty of curried crab meat[/recipe_title]

(Serves four)

The procedure below follows the native Indian practice of using whole spices freshly ground whenever possible instead of the prepared curry powder.

[recipe]2 6-oz. pkgs. frozen King crab meat, thawed[/recipe]

[recipe]4 unbaked frozen patty shells[/recipe]

[recipe]1 teaspoon whole black pepper[/recipe]

[recipe]1 teaspoon cardamom seeds[/recipe]

[recipe]1/2 teaspoon caraway seeds[/recipe]

[recipe]1/2 teaspoon ground coriander[/recipe]

[recipe]4 whole cloves[/recipe]

[recipe]1 teaspoon turmeric[/recipe]

[recipe]1/2 teaspoon ground cumin[/recipe]

[recipe]1/4 teaspoon chili powder[/recipe]

[recipe]2 tablespoons butter[/recipe]

[recipe]3 tablespoons minced onion[/recipe]

[recipe]1/2 teaspoon finely minced garlic[/recipe]

[recipe]2 tablespoons flour[/recipe]

[recipe]1 cup milk, scalded[/recipe]

[recipe]1 cup light cream, scalded[/recipe]

[recipe]2 tablespoons dry sherry[/recipe]

[recipe]1/4 cup applesauce[/recipe]

[recipe]Salt[/recipe]

Bake patty shells, following directions on package. Be sure to remove centers of patty shells about five minutes before baking is completed and return them with the shells to the oven to complete baking. Cardamom seeds must be removed from pods by hand, after which they should be measured. Put whole pepper, cardamom seeds, caraway seeds, coriander, cloves, turmeric, cumin and chili powder in the well of an electric blender, and blend until whole spices are finely chopped. Melt butter in saucepan and add onion and garlic, sautéing until onion is yellow. Stir in flour, blending well. Gradually add milk and cream, stirring constantly. Add ground spices. Slowly bring to a boil. Simmer, over a very low flame, about five minutes. Avoid scorching. Add crab meat and liquid from thaw. Simmer five minutes. Add sherry, applesauce and salt to taste. Spoon crab-meat mixture into and around patty shells. Place center of patty shell on top.

[recipe_title]Breaded frogs' legs, fried parsley[/recipe_title]

(Serves four)

There's no better example of the frozen millennium now upon us than frogs' legs. Formerly, they were around only in the late spring and summer. Now, frozen, their sweet, succulent meat provides an eatfest all year long. Shun the big -- four pairs to the pound -- Caribbean bullfrogs' legs, which are tough and rubbery.

[recipe]1 lb. small frozen frogs' legs[/recipe]

[recipe]1 cup dry white wine[/recipe]

[recipe]1 medium-size onion, sliced[/recipe]

[recipe]1 piece celery, sliced[/recipe]

[recipe]1 bay leaf[/recipe]

[recipe]1 cup light cream[/recipe]

[recipe]1 egg, beaten[/recipe]

[recipe]Salt, pepper, cayenne pepper[/recipe]

[recipe]Flour[/recipe]

[recipe]Bread crumbs[/recipe]

[recipe]4-oz. bunch parsley[/recipe]

[recipe]1 tablespoon butter at room temperature[/recipe]

[recipe]Salad oil for deep frying[/recipe]

Put the frozen frogs' legs in a shallow pan with the wine, onion, celery and bay leaf. Let them marinate at room temperature until they are thawed. Add 2 tablespoons cream to the egg, and beat well. Remove frogs' legs from liquid, reserving the latter for the sauce. Cut legs in half at the joint and the sprinkle with salt and pepper. Dip in flour. Shake off excess flour. Dip in egg. Dip in bread crumbs, coating legs thoroughly. Remove parsley springs from stems. Discard stems. Wash springs under cold water. Wipe dry with paper toweling, and set them aside. Put the wine and sliced vegetables into a saucepan. Simmer until wine is reduced to 1/2 cup. Strain liquid. Again bring to a boil. Mix the butter with 1 tablespoon flour until a smooth paste is formed. Slowly drop the butter into the simmering wine, stirring with a wire whip until thickened. Add balance of cream to wine. Simmer slowly (don't boil) about three minutes. Add salt and pepper to taste and a dash of cayenne. Preheat oil to 370°. Fry frogs' legs until medium brown. Drain on absorbent paper. Fry parsley in deep fat. It will collapse slightly in the fat, and will require only about a half minute or so for frying. Pour sauce on serving plates. Place frogs' legs on sauce. Garnish with fried parsley.

The freezerfest delineated above offers only a small, savory inkling of the cold cache that awaits your year-round culinary pleasure. Frozen assests can be among your most valuable.