Aspic: The Revival of a Gelatin-Based Jewel

I’ve been writing this column for a few years now, and my editor knows I have entertaining stories, a flare for whipping up a good time in the kitchen and some history with food – my influences go back to my childhood so this is certainly therapeutic work. And because comedy is just as important to me as the content – both come with a tasty delivery – this month’s culinary offering is a doozy.

Now that I’m of a vintage year that would make a great Bordeaux priceless, my recipe selections are frequently retro, although some of my faves aren’t necessarily on everyone’s Top 10 list. Take Japanese natto (that’s sticky bean to you), Chinese steamed chicken feet and fresh sea urchin, aka uni, which I’ve been sucking down for more than 40 years.

No, most of what’s on my list isn’t everyone’s cup of tea, but uni has become so popular nowadays that it’s getting too expensive and it’s used in way too many dishes. To wit my PSA: To the culinary morons out there, please keep the creamy nectar of the urchin off the fracking pasta! Chicken feet have been on my radar even longer – 50 years – but I don’t advise taking leftovers on a crowded flight as it could scare your seatmate.

And then there’s aspic, which seems to have had its day long ago in American cuisine, yet Food & Wine magazine recently wrote about the revival of this forsaken menu item. My beloved aspic is back, baby! And on a sidenote, my thanks to all the gods for ambrosia – a nasty mixture of canned fruit salad, Jell-O and cottage cheese or whipped cream – going the way of the dodo bird.

My mother kept traditional Latvian aspic on our family menu for as long as I can remember. “Galert,” a time-consuming treat that everyone in our family loved to eat, is what I grew up with. My dad would often spoon down the last wedge straight from the icebox late at night leaving us non-nighttime foragers in a world of disappointment and despair the next day. But that never stopped the love we all shared for each other and the galert. Mom made ours the old-fashioned way, by slow cooking veal shanks with sliced carrots, celery, onions and patience. Prepping the meal was always fun to watch. Letting that proteinaceous pudding settle overnight was well worth the wait.

It's definitely an acquired taste: Some can’t even think about eating a gelatinous aspic where others will gulp it down like caviar. The long-recognized Jewish specialty of gefilte fish has aspic jelly as a popular component, but I know many a mensch who would never touch the stuff.

In Japan, half the folks will eat natto while the other half will pass on it like the plague. All that sticky, stringy gooey stuff is just too much for them, and they’ll never know how flavorful fermented soy bean really is. Just because a food item is strangely constructed or presented does mean it’s not delicious. I’m betting an open mind implies an open mouth.

You’ve no doubt unknowingly eaten this naturally occurring gelatinous treat already. Ever lift that turkey carcass when cutting leftovers off the bone? Look on the bottom of the plate – aspic. Lift that chilled steak remnant, elevate that chicken, spatula up that slab of fish … aspic! After cooking and refrigeration, under most meats you’ll find a hidden layer of wobbly sticky goodness. Aspic holds all the spices and flavors of the cooking process locked in that gelée; any chef worth their salt will spoon that glorious goo into their mouths before you can hear the fridge door slam shut. Aspic is quite simply savory meat Jell-O.

The traditional way to prepare aspic is to slow-simmer bones and shanks of the four-legged variety. Beef, pork, lamb, they all contribute to a great aspic stock; fish and chicken work as well. For this column, I’m zeroing in on a colorful balanced recipe for Ukrainian “kholodets” made with chicken thighs and Knox gelatin (make no bones about it). You can use unflavored gelatin to create a meat-based or a vegan aspic because you choose the appropriate liquid to impart a flavor profile. Imagine a veggie aspic with cherry tomatoes, peas, carrots and asparagus.

For my eclectic tastes, the recipe I’m presenting here yields a very light and savory summer dish, great for any afternoon meal. Skim off any fat that floats to the top of the broth and strain out the onions. Then fill your aspic with fresh veggies of your choosing, such as peas and carrots.

I strain out the final broth to remove the simmered onion and always pare the final, chilled dish with a capful of white vinegar and a creamed horseradish sauce – the way the dish is traditionally enjoyed – and I often double the recipe to make plenty of leftovers because there’s never enough aspic in my house.

I hope I’ve convinced you to try this treat and that you’ll soon be jellin’ what I’m tellin’. Because I promise you – this dish is really delish!

CHEF SID’S CHICKEN KHOLODETS

Yield: 4 aspic “loafs”

INGREDIENTS

·     1 pound chicken thighs with skin mostly removed

·     32 ounces chicken stock

·     2 large carrots, peeled and thinly sliced

·     1 medium-size yellow onion, peeled and cubed

·     1/2 cup lightly chopped cilantro or other preferred fresh herbs

·     1 cube chicken bouillon (I like Knorr)

·     1/2 cup fresh green peas

·     2 .25-ounce packages of Knox unflavored gelatin

·     6 hard boiled eggs, halved

PREPARATION

·     In medium pot, add chicken, stock, carrots, onion, cilantro and bouillon; cover, bring to a low simmer and keep it there for 90 minutes, adding water to make up for evaporation as it cooks down.

·     Remove from heat and carefully strain soup to separate broth from the meat and veggies, making sure not to break or damage the carrots.

·     Return strained broth back to pot, add peas and cook about 10 minutes –no longer than that!

·     Strain peas from broth and set them aside for layering; return broth to pot but not the heat.

·     Add gelatin to the hot broth and mix well; as broth cools, use a whisk to blend gelatin in well and eliminate clumping.

·     Allow broth to slowly cool to a tepid, manageable state for adding to your 5″ x 9″ deep glass molds when layering ingredients.

·     Go back to your chicken-veggie mixture; separate chicken and remove all extra skin, bones, veins and gristle, then break apart meat into small, bite-size pieces and set aside. Fish out the carrot slices and set aside.

·     To layer ingredients, place halved boiled eggs into a neat pattern on bottom of mold; add carrots slices and a layer of tepid broth.

·     Cool a few minutes more, then add cooked peas and another layer of broth.

·     Add the final layer of chunked chicken and slowly – slowly! – add remaining broth.

·     Chill overnight or at least 6-8 hours before serving.

Sid Hoeltzell is an award-winning Miami-based commercial food and beverage photographer and former “MasterChef ” contestant. He has completed more than 450 commissioned works for Royal Caribbean Cruise Lines, teaches food photography seminars and is a preferred fine art photographer for Christie’s, Sotheby’s and private collections.