Verjus sorbet and poached peach

I'm working backwards here, starting with dessert, but as with meal planning, so with meal descriptions. This is the verjus sorbet and poached peach dessert from the French Laundry cookbook. The split in the peach is accidental (I forgot I was cutting the peach into thirds and not halves), but I think the rest of it looks about right.

Here's the thing about poached fruit, I like it, but I don't love it. But we already had these large peaches, and I wanted to make something seasonal, especially since the days are growing shorter and the mornings are chillier and it's only a matter of time before the summer fruit disappears and daylight savings time ends. And, I was very curious about the sorbet.

First I looked for verjus at Monterey Market. The guy (I think his name is Marty? I can't remember now) who stocks the vinegars said they didn't carry it, but that lately he's been getting more requests and is going to look into getting some. Next I stopped in at Magnani, hoping that they might carry it, but alas they did not, and then at the Coffee and Cheese shop, where my favorite woman there told me they didn't have it either.

Walking back, I called Nancy, who suggested the Pasta Shop down on Fourth Street. I called down there, and they had it! In fact, they had two kinds, one was a Sangiovese verjus and the other (the one I bought) was the regular kind.

From the back of the bottle and the introduction to the recipe, I've discovered the verjus was a Roman invention that was popular in French kitchens in the 14th and 15th centuries. Made from unripened white grapes, verjus is an acidulant like vinegar or lemon juice, but milder than either, and doesn't mask the flavors of the dish that it's added to.

The taste is singular. It's tart and particularly fruity but not sweet at all, a grape flavor stripped of sugar. It was really a bit of an object lesson, because after tasting it, I found it suddenly easier to see where the complexity in wine comes from. It has an appealing scent; if there were a verjus perfume, I would consider wearing it.

The sorbet was simply verjus and corn syrup chilled then processed in the ice cream maker. The result was a slightly tart, perfumy, delicate ice. And in appearance it slightly resembled a cloud. Speaking of which, I found a recipe for a French macaroon type cookie nicknamed "little clouds." Expect to hear more about that one soon.

I just got the French Laundry cookbook

A while back, I sold some books to Pendragon and ended up with a large credit at the Solano store. I have a habit of selling books for credit and hanging onto the credit for years, thus the tattered pile of credit slips sitting on my desk right now, many of which are at least six years old. In a few cases, I'm not even sure the bookstore still exists.

So I decided to use my credits, and even read some fiction reviews before heading down to structure my spree. But then I happened to glance over at the cookbooks section. The remainders table, where I found some pretty but not particularly useful options, lured me in, but the used cookbooks shelves behind it were the true find.

I notice a bright white, very tall spine on the top shelf out of the corner of my eye. I look up to discover the long-coveted French Laundry Cookbook glowing, beckoning, from the top shelf. I once borrowed the book from Nancy, but became so overwhelmed by the world within that I ended up not cooking anything at all and just gave it back.

Having now experienced a selection of the recipes though, everything seemed a little more approachable. Or maybe I'm motivated by the memory of the tastes to take the extra fussy steps, get the equipment insisted upon, and throw myself into the series of small, precise steps it takes to make even the simplest of the dishes.

It was marked down from $50 to $30, and was in good condition. My guess is the person who owned it last couldn't live up to its demands, cracked under the pressure, and had to sell the book.

Now I just need willing diners and to make sure not too attempt too many complicated things in one meal. Especially if the meal is not the only activity of the evening.

My first attempt will be on Saturday before the first Berkeley Rep play of the season. Now I just have to choose. I won't do a main meat course or anything, I'm not that brave/motivated/crazy. Yet. I'm thinking an appetizer or salad or maybe a dessert. There was a salad that involved tomato sorbet, and if there's any time of year to turn a perfectly good tomato into a bizarre taste experience, it is now before the cold sets in.