South Philly Review

Everyone has a specific food memory which transports them to a certain place and time. For Marcel Proust, it was dipping a Madeleine into a cup of tea. For me it happens every time I savor a slice of fatty, creamy Foie Gras. I am immediately transported back to Paris and the first time I tasted this classic delicacy.

I have never prepared Foie Gras, but I once watched a friend tie it in cheese cloth and poach it in water.

I wanted to learn how to make it, so I invited the talented chef Pierre Calmels, who with his charming wife Charlotte, owns Bibou in Bella Vista, 1009 S. Eighth St. I may get cards and letters on this, but I think it’s the city’s finest French restaurant.

Pierre arrived at 11 a.m. on a brutally hot morning. I invited my friend chef Christopher Thames to join us along with videographer/photographer Dash Davis who tasted Foie Gras for the first time.

“Foie Gras is not hard to make,” Pierre said in his soft French-accented English. “The important thing is to clean it properly.”

Pierre used a butter knife to remove all veins and traces of blood from the 12-ounce goose liver. I noticed one of the two lobes was larger than the other. This did not matter. It was going to be seasoned with lots of kosher salt, freshly-ground black pepper from my Peugeot pepper mill, brandy and Madeira. He then layered the larger pieces into the prepared terrines and patted the small pieces on top.

“Foie Gras must cook in a 200-degree oven. It has to cook gently for 15 minutes in a convection oven, 20 minutes in a regular oven,” he said.

I helped Pierre gently pack the Foie Gras into two small terrine pans. Before we did so, Pierre wet them a bit and lined them with plastic wrap. He set them in a bain-marie, or water bath, which he prepared using one of my large Pyrex rectangular pans.

We sat around my kitchen table and pined for Paris. Pierre, who is 38, is from a small town near Lyons. His father is an optician and mother is a teacher. He worked with Daniel Boulud in New York and was Georges Perrier’s right arm at Le Bec-Fin for eight years.

“I wanted to become a chef because of all the fine food I ate growing up and on family vacations,” he said.

Around 1:30 p.m. the Foie Gras was chilled and ready to be savored. Pierre brought a pint of black Mission figs which he caramelized in butter, cut side down. The figs added a bit of sweetness to our lunch. Christopher looked through my wine cooler and pulled out a bottle of Comtes de Bucques, a sparkling wine from Alsace, France. I set out plates, champagne flutes and plain water biscuits along with a crusty baguette. We toasted to friendship and fine food.

I should have taken a photograph of Dash as he slipped a small bit of baguette coated in Foie Gras into his mouth. He adored it. Our lunch ended at 4:30 p.m. It was our version of the traditional French two-hour lunch.

Terrine de Foie Gras

Ingredients:

1 12-ounce Foie Gras, thoroughly cleaned of blood, veins and bile
Madeira, to taste
Brandy, to taste
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper, to taste
Butter, to coat the bottom of a skillet
1 pint of black Mission figs

Directions:

Preheat the oven to 200 degrees.