Dinner for 30: A Party Recap
The hiatus is over. Here’s what I cooked for thirty beloved guests on New Year’s Eve.
It goes without saying: long time no newsletter! I am so sorry for the delay. Post-Christmas and New Year’s I traveled to Utah and back and immediately had one of the more stressful work weeks I’ve ever had (it’s one hell of a time to work in the ETF industry). I moved houses from where my roommate and I had been in Queen Village for three and two-and-a-half years, respectively, to a full-fledged house across Broad Street in Point Breeze. A month later we are much more settled.
This also means I am out of the hallowed basement apartment and its kitchen. The underground kitchen served me well despite having three windows in the entire downstairs. The oven door was blocked by a countertop from fully opening. Tyler and I fought dust with tooth and nail because we couldn’t change our HVAC filter. It was tiny. It was dark. But it birthed Hear Chef, Yes Chef, which as of January 17th is one year old!
Tyler and I now have a real above-ground house in Point Breeze. We are making up for cavern-induced vitamin D deficiencies in droves through the multitude of light-filled windows. We have a dinner table! The stove has wi-fi, for some reason! I bought a grill yesterday for the patio, which unlocked a new, primal instinct to learn how a Weber Kettle works. And the kitchen — the big, beautiful, bright kitchen — has already hosted two dinner parties.
But before the move — and ultimately the event that kicked off the month-and-a-half that never stops happening — I cooked for thirty guests with my friend Mike for a New Year’s Eve party. I learned a few things: I don’t think I have a grasp on how many people thirty people are. Do not do artichokes for a dinner party. Have at least three Celsius energy drinks on hand. I had the time of my life. Cooking for my friends — even thirty of them — is the most spiritually fulfilling thing I can do.
The return of the Heard Chef, Yes Chef newsletter features three dishes I made for the party: a sea bass crudo, a platter of salmon rillettes, and a recipe for 75 arancini in peppadew tomato sauce. For just $5 a month you can host an Audrey-style dinner party of your own:
Housekeeping: I’ve got some newsletters written in advance now, so they will be going out weekly again starting now.
If you make anything, tag me @heardchefyeschef on Instagram. Let me know your adoration, your bastardizations, your deepest and darkest food secrets. Think of it like a culinary confessional. I won’t share.
Sea Bass Crudo with Pickled Fennel and Lime
Serves… however many you want to feed. Ingredients:
2 Chilean sea bass filets. Get them day of, chill them in the fridge.
1 cup + 2 tbsp sugar
2 fennel bulbs
3-5 limes
1-2 tbsp peppercorns
⅔ cup champagne vinegar (or white wine vinegar)
⅓ cup water
Good olive oil
Salt
Slice the sea bass into very thin domino-sized pieces. Think, like, a thin piece of sashimi. Add to a bowl and toss with 2 tbsp of sugar and 1 tbsp salt; cover and chill in the fridge to cure for at least an hour and up to 8 hours.
Remove fennel arms, fronds, and core; reserve the fronds. Shave fennel bulbs on a mandolin, or cut very thin.
With a vegetable peeler, remove just the green peel of the limes in strips (try and avoid the white pith). Combine the shaved fennel and lime peels in a bowl or mason jar. Reserve the peeled limes.
In a saucepan bring the champagne vinegar, water, and 1 cup of sugar to a boil with the peppercorns and salt. Remove from heat and pour over the fennel and lime. Do not cover; set aside to cool. You can use the pickled fennel and lime peel once it is cooled, or store it in the fridge with a lid or cover.
To plate: immediately before serving, arrange the cured sea bass on a plate. Pour olive oil until the plate is covered in a thin layer and it pools around the sea bass. Top the sea bass with the pickled fennel and lime peel and a few tablespoons of pickling liquid. Crack some fresh black pepper and assemble fennel fronds over the crudo. This can be served family-style, with toothpicks, or as a small plate with a few pieces of sea bass each.