Scallop Pan Roast

I am a lover of scallops, and am always up for a way to prepare them other than the “sear and dress” methods.

Back in ought-eight Melissa Clark wrote about the way the Oyster Bar in New York prepares scallops. I made the recipe, filed it as Scallop Pan Roast and didn’t open it again until now. How silly of me. This time, I opened the recipe and re-read the story and prepared those wonderful scallops.

She starts:

A PAN roast at the Oyster Bar, like cheesecake at Junior’s and frozen hot chocolate at Serendipity 3, is one of those dishes New Yorkers love to champion, even if we haven’t tasted it in decades.

She goes on to write about those scallops and how she might bring the recipe up to date. Her story is so lyrical and charming that I’ll include the whole thing at the end, but first, the recipe, which I rewrote for the way I cook.

Scallop Pan Roast
based on a recipe by Melissa Clark in The New York Times, January 2, 2008.
Yield: 2 servings.

PREP
Put out 3 Tbsp butter, milk, cream, scallops to come to room temperature.
Make toast.

COOK
1. In a heavy saucepan [chicken fryer] over low heat, combine 1/3 cup bottled clam juice, 2 tablespoons butter, 2 Tbsp Heinz chili sauce, 1 Tbsp Worcestershire sauce, 4 tsp gin, 1/2 tsp sweet paprika, 2 dashes celery salt and 1 dash <strong>Tabasco; bring just to a simmer.

Add 1/2 pound scallops and let cook for 30 seconds without simmering (if you see a bubble, pull pan off heat for a few seconds). Add 1/2 cup heavy cream and 3/4 cup whole milk and continue to heat without simmering until mixture is steaming hot and scallops are opaque, about 2 minutes longer.

Place a piece of toast in each of two bowls and then add pan roast, dividing scallops evenly. Float 1/2 Tbsp butter on top of each bowl. Eat immediately.

Cook’s Notes:
Cooked 11.12 — C was all over with praise… 3 Yums. Scallops from fish guy at Market. And how could it be any easier?
Cooked 1.08 – Good stuff. Used little bay scallops. Used croutons instead of toast… not a good idea.

RECIPE AS WRITTEN
Scallop Pan Roast
Melissa Clark, New York Times
Yield: 2 servings.

1/3 cup bottled clam juice
3 tablespoons unsalted butter
2 tablespoons chili sauce, preferably Heinz
1 tablespoon Worcestershire sauce
4 teaspoons gin
1/2 teaspoon sweet paprika
2 dashes celery salt
1 dash Tabasco sauce

1/2 pound bay scallops, or sea scallops cut up if large

1/2 cup heavy cream
3/4 cup whole milk

2 slices toast.

1. In a heavy saucepan over low heat, combine clam juice, 2 tablespoons butter, chili sauce, Worcestershire sauce, gin, paprika, celery salt and Tabasco; bring just to a simmer.

2. Add scallops and let cook for 30 seconds without simmering (if you see a bubble, pull pan off heat for a few seconds). Add cream and milk and continue to heat without simmering until mixture is steaming hot and scallops are opaque, about 2 minutes longer.

3. Place a piece of toast in each of two bowls and then add pan roast, dividing scallops evenly. Float remaining butter on top, 1/2 tablespoon a bowl. Eat immediately.

A Good Appetite
Making the Scallops Happy
By MELISSA CLARK

A PAN roast at the Oyster Bar, like cheesecake at Junior’s and frozen hot chocolate at Serendipity 3, is one of those dishes New Yorkers love to champion, even if we haven’t tasted it in decades.

Such was the case at a recent gathering when I waxed nostalgic about bowls of ruddy, creamy pan roasts brimming with plump oysters, clams, lobster or scallops that really make it worth fighting the crowds at Grand Central Terminal.

“Really? When was the last time you ordered one?” a friend demanded. “Because the last one I had tasted like creamy ketchup.” He wrinkled his nose.

He had a point. Although I eat at the Oyster Bar at least twice a year, I couldn’t remember the last time I got the pan roast. I invariably consider it, but the prospect of lunching on an entire cup of heavy cream garnished with butter always seems to call forth some latent common sense. So I end up with something lighter — say, fried oysters with tartar sauce.

Nonetheless, I couldn’t imagine that my pan roast memories could be so rose-colored. Maybe my friend had visited on an off day. Or perhaps the pan roaster, a white-clad chef at the four steam-heated cauldrons where stews and pan roasts are concocted, was new and hadn’t yet mastered the exquisitely nuanced Oyster Bar technique.

Clearly, it was time for me to sample another pan roast. I decided to make one at home because two food-obsessed native New Yorkers, namely my parents, were coming over, and I thought they would appreciate a taste of briny nostalgia.

Finding the recipe was easy. I simply opened my copy of the Oyster Bar’s cookbook. It called for simmering oysters (or clams, lobster, shrimp, scallops or a combination) in heavy cream and butter flavored with clam juice, Worcestershire sauce, celery salt and — to give it that reddish color and sweet tomato je ne sais quoi — Heinz chili sauce, basically ketchup with spices.

A quick trip to the supermarket and fish store yielded all the necessary ingredients, including tiny bay scallops that I couldn’t resist. As I was unpacking them, my parents arrived, cold and hungry. I described my pan roast plan and they smiled.

“We haven’t had one of those in years,” my father said as he mixed himself a martini from the gin and vermouth sitting on the counter.

Meanwhile, my mother read the cookbook lying open on the table.

“Oh, no, that is much too much Worcestershire sauce,” she said. “It will ruin those nice scallops. I would use half that amount.” She added that I might want to cut the cream with some milk, too, for a slightly lighter, less diet-busting stew. My father nodded in agreement.

Since I learned much of what I know about cooking from them, I took their advice, and thus modified the time-honored pan roast. It took all of 10 minutes, and emerged characteristically rosy and lush, with pillow-like scallops bobbing on the surface.

We dipped spoons into the pot for a sample, and pronounced it very good — rich enough without being overly decadent, tart but not too sharply Worcestershire-laced (thanks, Mom) and vaguely sweet from the combination of scallops and chili sauce.

But still, it was lacking a certain complexity. Was it better at the Oyster Bar?

None of us could remember.

Maybe we should add a squeeze of lemon, I suggested.

My father shook his head. It will curdle the cream, he rightly observed. Instead, he reached for the bottle of gin and dribbled a little into the pot.

The aromatic, herbal alcohol was exactly what the pan roast needed, somehow lifting all the flavors and melding them, too. It was a brilliant and unorthodox addition that elevated the pan roast to greatness.

But what made him think of adding gin?

He shrugged his shoulders and scraped the last bit of milky broth from his bowl, then answered, “Doesn’t gin make everything taste better?”