Sauce

How it all started

Image: Recipes Recommended/Lisa Schattenkirk

When I was a lot younger, in fourth grade, to be exact, my family took my sister and me to Paradise Island, an island in the Bahamas connected to the country's capital, Nassau, by a very long bridge. It seemed like it took an hour for us to cross. The whole time, I was mesmerized by palm trees festooned with green coconuts and crystal-clear blue water where you could see the ocean floor. Awaiting us was a hotel named the Ocean Club. This hotel holds a very special place in my family, and although I haven't returned since I was young, my sister Gretchen and her husband, Bill, have spent important anniversaries there, as has my father. Although it took me a day to get over homesickness, I soon fell under the spell of this enchanting locale. Spending the days on the beach and at the pool, ordering wildly expensive cheeseburgers and Coca-Colas which had pull tabs, Gretchen and I did what normal kids did: we got red as lobsters, swam, and hunted for sea life until the sun went down. At night, my parents would leave us in the hotel room with free HBO while they went off to dine at one of the amazing local restaurants. What I didn't know is that a few days in, we were able to join them at their favorite restaurant, Café Martinique. I think it's still there, but it has moved to the mega-luxury hotel, Atlantis, on the same island.

When we arrived, the maître d', a giant of a man named Boy—yes, that was his real name—in a booming voice, greeted my father by his first name as they had been friends for a lifetime. In my estimation, Boy was about 8 feet tall and shook my hand as though I was an adult, and not a 10-year-old boy, something which wasn't lost on me. We were then escorted through an elegant dining room to a table next to a window facing the beautiful marina. It's hard to believe that I have such a vivid memory of this so many years later, but what really struck me, and why my life has followed the path it has, came about 30 minutes later.

The first course came, and my father had a hearts of palm salad, slathered in some mustard-based sauce, while my mother had shrimp in an even more rich cognac and cream concoction. I remember the herbs and garlic touching parts of my tongue which had been dormant until that moment. Finally, our entrées arrived, and as my father was apt to do, he smiled with eager anticipation while I raised my fork to my mouth. The Chateaubriand I was sharing with him just looked like steak, but the moment I tasted it I was forever changed. Do you know what this is? my father asked. Still savoring my bite of food with wide eyes, I shook my head. He said, that's Béarnaise sauce, and this is why I brought you here. Everything in my life had changed at that exact moment. I asked my mom, is there a special cook who makes this? To that, she told me about the saucier and how there are many different cooks who all work together to make meals in fancier restaurants. It's hard to explain how I felt after that, but it was as though the veil had been lifted from my eyes, and I had clarity, as limited as it could be for my early life, but it stuck with me.

Image: Recipes Recommended/Lisa Schattenkirk

I like telling this story because not only is it true, but it's something I think fondly of periodically when I get stuck in the mire of uninspired meals I'm planning for the next few days. I love to share new flavors and food history with my family and friends, and how and why I love to cook. We are beginning to plan out a series of Mother Sauces and also some basic ones over the next few months. Béarnaise Sauce, or Sauce Béarnaise if you're fancy, is a derivation of Hollandaise sauce, one of the major Mother Sauces. It's made by incorporating a reduction of white wine, shallots, black peppercorns, and tarragon to Hollandaise. It's typically an accompaniment to steaks, delicate fish, and vegetables like asparagus. It's sublime. Béarnaise would be considered a Daughter, or child sauce to Hollandaise. There are several other familiar Mother Sauces such as Béchamel, Velouté, Espagnole, and Tomato. We will cover them all here soon.

But there are other very important sauces we see a lot, and one we made a video on not long ago is Beurre blanc. Like many French dishes, it relies heavily on butter and is just as much the star of the meal as whatever protein or vegetable you're serving with it. I'd venture to guess you'll remember the sauce more. You've likely seen it and probably had it yourself on occasion. It's a butter and wine sauce, hence Beurre (Butter) Blanc (White, for the wine). It's simple, elegant, and fast. Once you master it, you'll have the confidence to get out of your comfort zone and start making those seemingly impossible dishes you've only seen in movies and cooking shows. Below is our recipe:

Perhaps the simple, less noticed things like sauces and accompaniments are all it'll take for you to have that same wide-eyed epiphany that I had.