Endives and Ham in Cream Sauce

This is yet another recipe that’s as nostalgic for me as I can think of. What I mean is that it was one of my mother’s “signature” dishes – as much as I hate using that word. These days everything is signature something or another. Oh, that’s our signature steel belted, radial double X, all terrain tires; or, that’s our signature sandwich two pieces of imported Tuscan bread and a hamburger. I think signature dishes are cheap tricks to fool the customers into paying a premium for eating their lousy food and feeling good about it because they paid more. But I digress. So what I meant by this dish being “signature” is that it made a repeat performance many times over because it was (1) delicious, (2) easy to make, (3) always well received by tout le monde a table and (4) probably pretty economical to boot. If you can imagine four children seated in Louis XVI chairs plus one infant in a high chair all a table and all watching the arrival of the dish! Endives and ham is what I like to call a versatile dish. It can be a wonderful side dish or it can stand alone as a main course with a nice tossed salad, cheese and baguette. But it all depends on your level of hunger or the small army that you may/may not be feeding.


Funny thing about the Cichorium endivia; the technique for growing them was discovered in the 1830s by a Belgian farmer, Jan Lammers in Schaerbeek, Belgium (endives are referred to as either chicon or witloof.) Anyway, when farmer Lammers returned home from another pointless war in the lowlands, he noticed that his stored chicory had sprouted white leaves, but that it still tasted alright. And that is how the Belgian endive was born. That is until France stole the name and called them French Endives which started the Franco-Belgian endive wars of 1878-9 which ultimately led to the Endive Treaty of 1879 allowing France to ultimately grow into being the largest producer of (French) endives. It should be noted that endives did not officially make their way to the Parisian markets (specifically the marché de la rue coquillére) until 1879. Nothing wrong with a little revisionist history is there?
Endives au jambon – 4 people:

Ingredients
8 firm, med. Belgian/French endive (figure on 3- 4 lbs)
8 thin slices baked ham
4 tbsp. butter
2 tbsp. flour
3/4 c. milk
Juice of 1 lemon

Pinch sugar
4 oz. Gruyere cheese, grated
grated nutmeg
Salt and pepper to taste

Directions
 1.Preheat the oven at 220°C.

2.Wash the endives and cut off the base. Using a small sharp knife, carve out the middle bitter cone-shaped part at the base of the endives.

3.Cook them in a steamer for about 8 minutes or in a pot of salted water for about 15 minutes. Then drain them well in a strainer, run under cold water, then pat dry. Dot with 1 tablespoon butter, sprinkle with lemon juice and season with sugar.

4.Roll each endive in slice of ham. Place all in a buttered baking dish.

5.Pour the béchamel sauce on top of the wrapped endives and sprinkle some grated cheese on top of it.

6.Bake it for about 15- 20 minutes; 5 minutes under the broiler.


Béchamel sauce

1.Melt the butter in a sauce pan at medium heat. Make sure that the butter doesn’t turn brown.

2.Add the flour into the melted butter and stir it vigorously with a whisk. Continue to stir vigorously until you obtain a mousse like mixture.

3.Stir in the warm milk a little at a time (make sure it’s well incorporated), vigorously to avoid getting lumps.

4.When about half the milk is in, switch to a balloon whisk and start adding large amounts of milk instead, but always whisking briskly. Your reward will be a smooth, glossy, creamy sauce.

5.Whisk it until it thickens, then turn the heat down to its lowest setting.

6.Season it with salt and pepper.

7.Let it simmer for about 10 minutes (whisk it from time to time) and then remove from heat.

If you feel bold and daring, a little extra panache can be achieved by tucking slices of fresh black truffle between the ham and the endives, or by using a few tablespoons of black truffle butter in addition to regular butter in the sauce.