(”The End of Dinner, 1913 by Grun.” Poster available here.)

Do you serve coffee or after-dinner drinks? We’ve recently had the “sixth course” as a host referred to it: a beautifully arranged cheese tray, complete with walnuts, grapes and figs. It was a fitting accompaniment to the vintage port he is in the habit of offering.

The response I get most often to asking if anyone would like coffee is “no, thanks,” or, “only if it’s made.” If I do make coffee, the request is usually for “decaf.” Decaf? Hmmm. What’s the point I wonder?

I remember my parents serving after dinner coffee and drinks. But they also served dessert; which I don’t. I’m not much of a baker and I really don’t have a sweet tooth. The friends who are our most frequent guests don’t like any sort of fruit. That sort of limits me to lemon sorbet or purchased profiteroles and chocolate syrup with a scoop of vanilla ice cream. Brownies in a box are never a success.

I love the idea of offering a cheese tray with grapes and figs to accompany a good port at the end of the meal. And I wouldn’t mind a cup of coffee, even if I’m destined to hit the rack in less than an hour.

The issue today is, of course, the drive home. The folks in the picture above would have taken a handsome cab or walked back.

How about you? What is your after-dinner ritual?

(The organic pork tenderloin pictured is available at US Wellness Meats Online.)
The ever gracious Mrs. E. and I were fortunate enough to be guests at a superb dinner party Saturday night. The other guests were funny, engaging, ridiculously good looking and just boisterous enough to ensure that the party was to be a success from the first. The hostess’ table was charming, red accents for valentine’s day, with homemade coasters bearing reflections on love. Candles were in abundance, and the dog well trained to spot potential trouble (who know those glass beaded things could catch fire? “Well done, Lassie.”)

The main course was nicely presented. A Wellington always makes an elegant centerpiece.

Now, a Wellington it was, with a twist. Whether because of her French roots or not, this Wellington was made with pork tenderloin! (Of course, we are in Virginia, unofficial state motto: “If it’s swine, it’s fine.”) The Pork Wellington was delicious, and more importantly, easy to make. If I’ve remembered all the ingredients…

So, stop worrying about what to serve this weekend to your guests and start debating the merits of pairing a lighter red Pinot Noir (or Côtes du Rhône) or a white wine like a Viognier with the dish.

1 Pork Tenderloin
salt and pepper
olive oil
several strips of bacon or cured ham like proscuitto.
1 container of Boursin herbed soft cheese.
1 box of puff pastry (you’ll use a couple of sheets.)
1 egg and a dash of water.
Parchment paper and a cookie sheet.

Trim the silvery part from the tenderloin. You can probably dispense with the tail end, too, for symmetry. Or fold it over to maintain the more uniform thickness better for even cooking.

Heat a tablespoon or so of olive oil in a large skillet.

Salt and pepper the tenderloin, wrap with the bacon or ham and sear in the olive oil.

Let cool.

Spread with the Boursin cheese.

Wrap with the puff pastry sheets. You’ll put this on the parchment paper on a cookie sheet, seam side down.

Brush with an egg wash (beat the egg with a little water.) Chill for an hour and heat the oven to 400ºF. Bake for approximately 40 minutes on the lower rack of the oven. Let stand for 5 minutes before slicing to serve.

The Pork Wellington was served with an orzo, feta, black olive and roasted vegetable side dish. I brought along a salad made with a vinaigrette spiked with orange juice, tomatoes, celery, cucumbers, red onion, blood oranges, blue cheese and walnuts.

The divine Mrs. E. made a wonderful suggestion for our dinner party this weekend. “Beef Wellington,” she said. “We have that bit of paté de foie gras mousse truffée to use up.”

Yes, she really does say things like that.

I couldn’t wait for Saturday night. And on the appointed day, she looked at the clock and asked when I was going to get started making dinner… Me? Beef Wellington was her idea… and I didn’t have a recipe. Apparently I’d done one for a Christmas Dinner one year, so there was precedent.

How hard could it be? I did manage to find a recipe in The New Basics Cookbook for individual Beefs Wellington (?) that used potted mushrooms. Alright, I’d adapt it… I’d win the battle.

First of all, I had a whole tenderloin of roughly 2 lbs. And I didn’t have puff pastry, but I did have frozen Phyllo dough (I am half Greek…) The mushrooms called for scallions, which I did have, and leeks which I did not… . And then there was the question of the “paté dfgmt.”

The results are visible above and the reviews were good… a bottle of wine per person might have influenced the verdict. The only difficulty I had was the cooking time. 15 minutes of finishing wasn’t nearly enough in the end. So we did as they do in Windsor Castle when the Queen likes her Wellington done a bit more than medium-rare. The basically raw feast went into the microwave for 4 minutes. Voila! Medium rare’ish.

Beef Wellington (serves four with a salad and mashed potatoes.)

1 Beef tenderloin of about 2 lbs.
1/4 of a package of Phyllo Dough, thawed
Butter (maybe a 1/4 of a stick) melted.
Paté de foie gras mousse truffée — about the size of a deck of cards.
1 package of sliced mushrooms.
2 scallions, minced.
Thyme
Sea salt and pepper
Dijon mustard

Rub sea salt, pepper and two teaspoons of thyme into the meat. Sear the tenderloin on all sides in a skillet of melted butter. Set aside to cool to room temperature.

In the skillet, melt some more butter and add the minced scallions. Cook, stirring until they are translucent. Add about two teaspoons of thyme, salt and pepper. Add the mushrooms and cook until the liquid from them evaporates.

Preheat the oven to 425ºF.

Unroll your phyllo dough and drape a few layers (maybe 8?) across your baking sheet. Place the cooled tenderloin onto the middle of it. Brush the top with dijon mustard and smear it with the “paté dfgmt.” Pour on the mushroom mixture. Drape some more phyllo dough over the top and brush with melted butter while forming the whole thing into a package. (To be fair, Mrs. E. did this step as I can’t stand working with phyllo.)

Cook for longer than 15 minutes, I’d guess 20-25. If the phyllo starts to burn, cover it with some tin foil and continue to cook. Or stick with the 15 minutes and then nuke the result on high in the microwave for four minutes.

Serve with mashed potatoes, salad and a good red … we drank a Malbec.

If anyone gets more specific with the cooking times, please leave a note. I’d appreciate it (and I might have enough wine left to drink with the leftovers the next day….)