Butter’s Dark Side

These are confusing days in the world of food. Michael Pollan recently reported in the New York Times Magazine that Americans have all but abandoned their stoves, while Food & Wine called 2009 “the year of the home cook.” Restaurants are increasingly turning to the kind of rustic fare usually made by someone’s grandmother, while some home cooks, emboldened by tomes of higher cookery by chefs like Thomas Keller and Grant Achatz, are trying out molecular gastronomy. It’s hard to know what to think.
To further complicate matters, as published recipes have gotten simpler, readers’ palates have become more sophisticated. This has made cooking at home overly fraught, which is silly. Simple preparations and complex flavors need not be mutually exclusive. Case in point: brown butter.
Brown butter is made by cooking butter until the liquid burns off and the milk sugars and proteins brown, imbuing the fat with a deep, nutty aroma. It’s been used since the Middle Ages in Europe, and in India, where it’s called ghee, brown butter is the most commonly used cooking fat. Cooks there first adopted the technique as a way of keeping butter from turning rancid—once the milk solids have been removed, brown butter can be kept for six to eight months. In our region, however, it’s too often ignored by home cooks.
Brown butter is an easy way to add depth of flavor to any dish. You can make enough for one meal in a few minutes, but you may want to make larger batches that you can keep in the refrigerator as a staple ingredient. Whatever the quantity, the process is the same. Cook the butter slowly—it can go from light brown to burned in a flash if the heat is too high—until it foams and becomes clear. The milk solids brown best when the temperature is around 250°F. Smell the butter while you’re watching it cook (but don’t put your face too close to the pot as it bubbles away—it may spatter) to learn how its distinctive hazelnut aroma develops. You may want it darker or lighter, depending on the recipe and your taste—but either way, pull the butter from the heat a little early, as it will continue to brown after the burner is turned off. Let the fat cool slightly before adding liquid, like lemon juice or cream. The brown solids will settle to the bottom; you can strain the fat through cheesecloth if you don’t like the dark specks in your food.
The possibilities for brown butter are endless. Stir in lemon juice and salt to make an easy, versatile dressing that can be used as an accompaniment to fish, a sauce for pasta, or a dipping sauce for steamed artichokes. Try mixing brown butter with cream for a refined take on mashed potatoes. The addition of any acid, but especially balsamic or sherry vinegar, makes a great sauce for roast chicken and root vegetables.
Brown butter is a staple of baking, particularly in financiers (delicate almond–brown butter cakes). It’s wonderful poured over poached eggs, and it can be used to enrich soups and in place of clarified butter in hollandaise. The ingredient has a particular affinity for mushrooms, parmesan, sage, parsley, and capers, although it goes well with almost everything.
Staffan Terje, the chef at San Francisco’s Perbacco, told me that in Sweden, where he grew up, brown butter is common. Black pudding, a kind of sausage made with pork blood and fat, is served in brown butter, as are turbot and flounder. One delicious-sounding dish calls for brown butter, hot from the stove, to be poured over marinated herring, potatoes, and dill. The butter cooks the skin of the fish, but not the flesh.
At Perbacco, where Terje’s cooking focuses on northern Italian cuisine—in which dairy is used extensively—he incorporates brown butter quite often in such pasta dishes as pumpkin agnolotti with brown butter and sage, risotto, and fonduta (more commonly known as fondue).
The recipe that Terje gave me is for the kind of dish I crave when the weather turns cool. The aroma of brussels sprouts and chanterelles, mingled with brown butter, parmesan, and sage, is at once intoxicating and comforting, a welcome reminder that food isn’t really as confusing as it seems.
