Endless loop Swimming slipping surging Never reaching the end. Only a quantum leap Will take you To the other side. Renewed. This episode is named for Tome wan, the penultimate course of a Kaiseki dinner. A simple miso soup with rice, it signifies the end of the meal. Just desserts will follow. My concept sketch for the food for episode 12 Our on-set continuity photo for resetting the plates Prepping for episode 12 Now we are getting so close to shooting the last episode, everyone can taste the end. No more late nights shooting overtime, no more standing out in the freezing snow “going again” (doing another take), no more dragging your tired souless body into the sound stage for early call; no more trolling the craft table for junk food to cut the tedium of waiting for your scene. The work is exciting, challenging and the camaraderie is wonderful but we are exhausted. I saw a guy fall asleep mid-step and crumple to the floor as he was walking toward the set - now that's tired... Getting the food ready for the scene But no rest yet. I have just opened the draft script and as I read, the little alarmist homunculus in my head starts running laps in its ninth ring of hell (or how ever many there are). Is this a terrible joke Jose and Bryan are playing on me? You know it’s not nice to toy with the food stylist. She has sharp pointy things she can hurl at offenders when rage is the only answer... Imagine an evil stepmother asking for: Property Gaumont International Chopping up a boar's head for the "roiling broth"made of suspicious-looking long bones and other bits You can probably guess that fresh anchoveta (Peruvian anchovies) are impossible to find from January to April which is their off-season. We will have to settle for Mediterranean anchovies which are dribbling in to market now that it’s February. I read on…it looks like a twisted dwarf has joined forces with the evil stepmother and is asking for: Property Gaumont International What??? A swirl of small fish!!!! Property Gaumont International In the shape of a Mobius strip!!! Are you kidding? A Mobius strip? I throw my hands up and decide I will use fake anchovies – made by the model-maker and wire them together. That is, until he tells me they will be $47 each. EACH?? I need about 100. Prepping the platters in the studio for the Kholodets dinner scene Surprise, the prop master says NO. "What about those small preserved bait fish we used in the trout fishing scene", the Prop Master suggests. He sends me a package. Other than being smallish for anchoveta, they look great. And it says “organic” on the bag. So I won't kill anyone who accidentally licks the jelly mould. But they are rigid and it takes a lot to wrestle them into anything that looks like a Mobius strip. Plus they smell funny and I start to grow suspicious of how food-safe they are. Not that anyone is going to eat them – after all, fish eat them and it’s OK to eat the fish that eat them. But just to be sure, I phone the manufacturer. The woman on the phone enthuses about how safe they are to eat and I ask her to send me an email stating such. Unfortunately, the follow-up email her boss sends says “do NOT place these bait fish in nor anywhere near food that is going to be consumed." Then a revision comes in -- the coup de grace: Mads is going to cut through the Kholodets so the anchovies can’t be wired together, and… Property Gaumont International …so it all has to be edible. My assistant says, “What about marzipan – it worked great with the ortolans.” No, unless marzipan comes in dappled silver. I can’t paint them because the gelatin just sucks the colour right off the marzipan. Anyway, marzipan melts in gelatin. I don’t even have to do tests on that because I previously had a bad trip making Jello “Acid” Shots – a dessert treat I had suggested for a wild party scene in an episode of “Warehouse 13”. That’s how I learned that sugar pills melt in Jello. It’s just not possible. But this is the film industry and “impossible” is not an acceptable answer. So I decide to use Greek anchovies. There is only one fish dealer in the whole city that has them and they are in terrible shape but I manage to get 50 good ones. I gut and pickle them (like white anchovies) so they will not go bad in the Kholodets. I’m not saying they will taste good. I’m just saying they won’t go bad. I’ll use chicken in the main part of the Kholodets which will be – although not yummy, at least edible. Now I just have to figure out how to wrestle these tiny pickled fish into a Mobius strip suspended in aspic. I try suspending them from wires like puppets. They slip off. Then I try gelling them in a long narrow strip then flipping the strip to make it Mobius. They flop out. Only the nose knows, but here's a tip... In between all this, the Prop Master is phoning me for suggestions of what to use Michael Pitt's nose-eating scene. I send him off to the West-Indian stores to look for souse and the Chinatown markets to look for pig jowls. He calls me from the various shops elated with the huge selection available - a revelation in pork product for a nice Jewish boy. Of course in the end, they use marzipan - the food stylist's miracle food. Buddha bungzu! While I'm staring into middle space my gaze falls on a stack of foil stove element liners. OMG!! Perfect for my Mobius fish strip!!!! Anchovies strapped to the foil stove liner I clip and twist the foil rings into Mobius strips and, using wires and disappearing thread, strap on the pickled anchovies as if they were midway suckers on a Tilt-a-whirl. I pop the whole assembly in the freezer – because as anyone who has ever tried to chip one shrimp out of a bag of frozen ones knows, everything sticks together when you freeze it. Then, when the anchovies are frozen solid, I peel off the foil and lower them into the waiting jelly moulds. Yay! Next!! One of the twelve Kholodets we made to do the scene A literary zakuski, Hannibal-style What else will I put on the table for Hannibal’s Kholodets? I figured it’s a perfect centerpiece for a zakuski dinner, that lavish legendary Russian spread. Star Gazy Pie with purple asparagus and sage Perhaps the most extravagant zakuski ever offered in literature is in Gogol’s “Dead Souls”: a pie made from a gigantic sturgeon’s head, an assortment of caviar and smoked fish, cheeses and headcheese, wild mushrooms all washed down with vodka. That will be my inspiration for the table. The art department sends over a few fake vodka labels to choose from and we select a wonderfully authentic looking but totally made-up brand (oh snap out of it, people - Hannibal wouldn't buy vodka off the shelf. He makes his own from Mr and Mrs Potato Head). What's a zakuski without three kinds of caviar! And baby blini Tea to end the Kaiseki I also want to use a Japanese tea service (after all, a zakuski meal would have tea from a samovar). The props buyer got this amazing teapot and lacquered tray for a tea scene that got dropped It might be my last meal of the season. I have seen the production draft of the final episode and there isn’t any food in it. I figure that there is so much action and so many lives hanging in the balance and so many surprises that there will definitely not be time for anyone to sit down and have a meal cooked by Hannibal. He will be so busy cleaning and folding that plastic kill suit he will find no time to cook. So a Japanese tea service would be a lovely bookend to the first episode’s Japanese meal. As it turns out - and I should have known, a big food scene pops up in a mid-week script rewrite so, back to the kitchen for me... And now it’s back to the kitchen for you! Oh, come on...I know you really don’t want to make Kholodets, nor any jellied aspic meat thing. Even if you do, none of your friends will want to eat it and you’ll have that glibbery thing in your fridge for months. So I’ve prepared an alternative recipe for you. These are like a miniature alcoholic dessert version of Kholodets. - but easier to make and more fun to eat. Plus these can be incorporated into your post-dinner Hannibal Drinking Game: Sangria Jello Shots 24 one-ounce shots 1 ½ cup white wine 1 cup fruit (mango, kiwi and apple) in small dice 1/8 cup water 1/8 cup frozen orange juice concentrate 3 envelopes unflavoured gelatin ¼ cup Grand Marnier ¼ cup vodka fruit to garnish 1. Shake fruit and wine together. 2. In a small saucepan, combine water, OJ concentrate and sprinkle gelatin over. Allow to gelatin to soften until all the gelatin particles become translucent, heat over low heat just until all melted, stirring constantly and scraping down sides with rubber spatula. Add wine fruit mixture and stir to mix well, scraping down sides with spatula. 3. Remove from heat. Add Grand Marnier and vodka. Stir well. Ladle into clear plastic shot glasses, distributing fruit evenly. Refrigerate til well set (about 2 hours). Unmould by dipping in hot water til jelly releases, invert and unmould onto platter garnished with fruit and serve. Oh alright, for those of you purists who really want to cook like Hannibal here’s a simplified recipe to try. If you make it and no one will eat it, I can’t help you. Although, in the UK there’s a company that makes bespoke jellies and also will explode them – more Bond than Hannibal. Perhaps they will come over and detonate your uneaten Kholodets. Kholodets To make an authentic Kholodets you must simmer a large whole stewing chicken in water with onion and carrot for several hours until all the meat has fallen off the bones. The jelly of a really elegant Kholodets is almost clear and meltingly soft. It's delicately delicious. This recipe calls for veal shanks and pork hocks which have much more cartilage and as a result will gel more solidly, but the result will be much more firm - more like head cheese. Appetizer for 8 3 pig’s trotters, scrubbed clean, bristles removed 1 lb veal shank 1 lb chicken thighs 1 large carrot 1 medium onion 1 tsp pickling spice mix (coriander, peppers, bay leaf, cloves, cinnamon) to taste salt, pepper ½ cup diced carrots, cooked ½ cup peas, cooked 1. In a large stock pot, over high heat, place trotters, shanks, thighs, carrot and onion quarters, pickling spice mix and 3 to 4 quarts of water (enough to cover meat) and bring to a boil. Turn heat down and allow to simmer for 5 to 6 hours or until meat falls off the bone and skin and cartilage are very soft. The liquid should be reduced by half. Skim of any coagulated foam that forms on the top of the liquid. 2. Remove bones and large pieces of meat. Strain stock through a fine sieve and discard vegetables and bones. Chop meat in ½-inch dice, mix with diced cooked carrots and peas, season with salt and pepper and place into loaf pan. Pour over strained stock. Chill until solid – at least 3 hours or overnight if possible. When ready to serve, dip pan in hot water until a thin layer of jelly melts. Invert and unmould onto a platter, slice and serve with horseradish and apologies. At the end of the day, sadly it all goes into the dump Next week: Sacrificial lambs have their blood smeared all over Hannibal’s front door. Also next week, I’ll be posting more of your Hannidinner that you have shared by sending photos to [email protected] Except where noted, all content copyright Janice Poon and Feeding Hannibal All script excerpts are property of Gaumont International and reproduction is strictly prohibited

A blood drenched friend hovers Above a shrinking husk As his monstrous butterfly Takes wing. Love too late. A sanguine fi...

The truth, When it finds you, Cuts like a hot hot knife. Slashing faith, Severing ties, Stabbing through your heart. Spurting a red river of lies. Who has the will The strength To staunch it? Season Two! It’s amazing to be back! Back with the team at Hannibal -- that great roiling stew of wild imaginations and incredible talents cooking together until, unbidden, the unspeakable images of horrible beauty start to bubble and break surface in our collective minds. And back with you fabulous Fannibals -- smart, artistic, enthusiastic and wonderfully sardonically funny. We have got a lot of shocking surprises for you in Season Two. But really, I can't wait to see what YOU have in store for US. Kaiseki begins... The opening episode is called Kaiseki. I am hotly anticipating the food scenes because Kaiseki is the highest form of Japanese cuisine – which, even at its lowest form is more refined, symbolic and artful than any other. Based on a deep and ancient philosophy of nature and seasons, it is a dozen-plus course meal of small plates that are meticulously prepared and served in formal, codified order on antique dishes of subtle beauty. At about $350 per person. All summer, I had been anticipating the food scenes because back in July, Bryan had asked for thoughts on Kaiseki and asked if any part of human flesh looks like sliced flounder. I responded that there are several formulae for bleaching flesh developed mainly for the poultry industry because consumers prefer breast meat to thigh. (A bit of hydrogen pyroxide is all it takes to bleach those low-rent thighs so they look just like breast meat!) Having a vegetarian for dinner? We tossed around ideas of what vegetarian food Hannibal could serve Dr Chilton who has lost (how careless) a kidney and is on a restricted diet. I suggest a marrow squash soup where the middle has been scooped out to look like bone marrow. See what I did there? Well nobody else did and this sketch goes into the shredder. my first stab at Chilton's vegetarian dinner At last, the first script of the second season is circulated. I tear into it the moment it arrives. Devouring it. Drinking in its images: orange-fleshed sea urchins and thinly sliced sashimi balancing on a fishbone. Ash-baked celery root smoldering in a coffin of salt. Dining on nightmares. Will. Wendigo. Wonderful. Back to designing the food for the screen - making it cinematic, as Bryan says. I circulate sketches and get no response – this is not a bad thing – everybody is madly working on the next urgent thing, so no news is good news. I call up Hashimoto, a Kaiseki master and go over everything with his son Mark. They generously offer to come to the shoot to make sure we don’t commit any crass transgressions of the multitudinousness of ancient Kaiseki correctness. my sketch after reading the script Pre-production will start in early September. Small problem: I’ll be at a conference in Buenos Aries. Big solution: coffee shops and hotel lobbies. I’m still in awe of how easy it is to get things done using other people’s WiFi. Well, easy-ish… We need live sea urchins so Mads can lift the orange flesh out of the shell when he’s making dinner for Laurence. Two searches, a phonecall, and a sinking feeling inform me that sea urchin is not in season. A week after the shoot, markets will be awash in sea urchins but when we shoot, there will be none commercially available. And they need to be alive because as soon as they die, all the spines drop off and what you have is the shellfish version of a Chinese Crested Hairless dog. Just that ugly. West Coast fishmen to the rescue! Over the phone, a nice person at the Sea Urchin Harvesters Association tells me about a tiny west-coast fishing town, Steveston where independent sea urchin divers with small boats are allowed to sell off-season to people at the wharf. By sheer happenstance, I have a niece, Melissa, who is visiting her in-laws in that very town. She agrees to go to the wharf and finds a diver who will get the sea urchins. We are on first base! I will not bore you here with further whining about how hard it is to ship sea creatures on a long weekend (Yes, it is a long weekend as shooting starts on Season 2). Even if you have a nephew who works for AirCargo it will take three days. Sea urchins die in two and their spines start falling out from stress as soon as they hear they are flying Air Canada. I decide that we need to mercy-kill the sea urchins when they are fresh and healthy then cure them in a way that keeps the spines on. Google says this is not possible but that’s not the answer I want, so I call my taxidermist at ProLine for advice. He is a true artist who happens to work in dead animals and he says No problem. Just bury them in salt. sea urchins with heavy make-up Melissa does the dirty work, haggling with the divers for the best urchins then killing, cleaning, and burying them in salt. Twenty pounds of it. We are on second! But the wretched urchins won’t dry out completely in her humid coastal town. Plus they are no longer bright red. They’ve gone sad brown. So, emailing from Buenos Aries, I ask her to FedEx them immediately to my assistant Ettie in hotter, drier Toronto. She has agreed to finish off the drying process, glue the dropped spines back on and spray paint them glossy red. Two days later I get an email from Ettie that the urchins have arrived – spines intact! And quite dry. We store them with charcoal to eliminate the sea smell. We are rounding third, but for a home run, we need large fresh uni from the sushi supplier to place into the dried, painted shells. The (English-speaking) sushi supplier cannot get the big ones he had promised so I have to go to another (English-challenged). Which is alright since I have to switch hamachi suppliers too. Hamachi? Problems there? Yes, this is to be expected – but hardly the fun-fest of getting the sea urchins. Just business as usual. Kaiseki dinner complete. Now think about Will's nightmare when Wendigo watches over dinner and Will coughs up a few memories. I know, Will...Wendigo always gives me acid reflux too. Was it the pizza Will ate last night that gave him such a nightmare... The shoot goes great. Francisco (set decorator) and I collaborate on Will’s Wendigo Hallucidinner. (What, ear again???) Would you like fries with that? I SAID WOULD YOU LIKE FRIES? While we buzz around setting up the table, the camera crew shoots the sea urchin scene. The sea urchins look alive, Hashimoto trims the yellowtail and shows Mads how to slice like a sushi master. Kaiseki master Hashimoto with Martha deLaurentiis and me on set Laurence loves yellowtail sashimi and so does Mads -- their chopsticks flying through the retakes. We go through every last bit of hamachi –I had bought a few hundred dollars worth and it was just enough. Francisco and I are still piling food flowers horns bones and bugs onto the hallucidinner table when the crew moves to the next food scene: Hannibal serving Chilton a Salt-baked Celeriac. It’s a dish made famous at Brett Graham’s Michelin-starred restaurant, The Ledbury. His celery root is baked in a shell of browned salt and flour dough but I decide to go with a shell of pure white salt rubbed with ashed celery leaves. I want it to look like a baby Wendigo hatching from an icy snowball from hell. Ash-baked celeriac (celery root) in salt crust with Samphire (sea asparagus) watermelon carpaccio with spiced feta cheese Up next...Hallucidinner. Did that tentacle just smell me? I'm down to my last few celeriac slices when the AD calls “moving on”. Which means we are finished that scene and are moving on to the Hallucidinner. The AD calls "Final touches" and we all rush in to make sure everything looks great. Glycerine is applied to meat to make it look juicy...water is sprayed on leaves and flowers for a dewy look...Fabreez is spritzed on the octopus to keep it smelling like a rose - after all, it has a "bit" in this scene. the endless feast of Will's hallucination We rush around doing Final Touches while at the head of the table, Wendiguy looks more bored than ominous. Wendigo gets a horn adjustment before his big dinner scene More on roasting things in encased in salt An addendum to Chapter Celeriac. Compared to faking live sea urchin, making the salt-baked celeriac in ash had been a piece of cake -- well, 36 cakes because of the length of the scene we needed three dozen celeriac roots. Especially easy for me because Ettie and John (my new apprentice and mixologist - every serious kitchen has someone in charge of cocktails) had gone ahead and baked all of them while I was away, snoring in a Buenos Aires meeting hall. Salt-baking was used in traditional Chinese Hakka cuisine, you wrap your chicken in lotus leaf and bury it salt in a large heavy pot. Then you put it on the fire on low and go out to a Jackie Chan movie. When you get home, you take the pot off, throw out the salt, unwrap you steaming tender chicken and dive in with both chopsticks. This is a centuries-old country dish that previously was eaten only by wealthy salt merchants when salt was the sel in salary. Slow-baking in salt is something I usually consider a waste of salt. A travesty. Between the desiccating sea urchin and baking celeriac, I went through about 50 lbs of the stuff. A salt-bake treat to impress your vege-pescatarian friends Lately, smarty-pants chefs from Copenhagen to Frederick to Sydney have been putting salt-baked root vegetables on their menus. You can salt-baking everything from fish to chicken to beets and pears, but I think it works best with people meats. So if you want to try salt-baking, here’s an easy recipe for fish to try: Jenny, co-host of Second Course podcast, this recipe is for you! Salt-baked Snapper Serves two with roasted mixed vegetables and aioli or hollandaise sauce. 3 lbs. sea salt 1 egg white – or 2 if eggs are small 1 Tbsp water 1 T fennel seed 2 ½ - 3 lb whole fish such as snapper or branzino, gutted, gills removed handful of herb sprigs such as rosemary, thyme, parsley 2 thick lemon slices, halved into semi-circles 4 T olive oil 1. Preheat oven to 400. 2. In a medium sized mixing bowl, whisk egg white til frothy with a fork. Add water and whisk til combined. Add salt all at once and fennel seeds. Mix thoroughly til all the salt is damp and clingy -- like sand when you are making a sand castle. To test consistency, take a couple tablespoonsful in your palm and make a fist, crushing salt together. When you open your hand, salt should hold together in a ball. If not, froth another egg white with water and add a bit at a time to the salt mixture until it holds together. Don’t add too much or it will be a struggle to crack the salt shell once it’s baked. Set aside. 3. Line a baking sheet with a sheet of baking parchment and place about ½ cup of salt mixture in the middle. Spread out to the approximate length and width of your fish. Tamp down to a thickness of about ½ inch. Rub fish with olive oil and place on top of the salt. Stuff cavity with lemon slices and herbs. Spoon the rest of the salt mixture on top and sides, pressing over the fish so the fish is completely encased in a ½-inch layer of salt. 4. Roast for 20 - 25 minutes. Remove from oven and rest for 5 minutes. To serve, transfer to a wooden cutting board and serve. 5. To serve: At the table, crack the salt shell by tapping with a mallet then carefully remove the salt shards, brushing salt bits away from the fish or they will make the fish too salty. Pull away the top layer of skin, using a sharp thin knife to detach the skin from the gill, fins, and tail. Using a wide fork, lift the meat off the bones and serve onto individual plates. When the top side has been served, remove the bone by lifting the head up and away toward the tail. All the small bones will come away with the spine. Remove the fin bones and serve the bottom half of the fish meat, leaving the skin on the salt crust. Have a martini. You’ve earned it. And if you're still interested in laughing at my life, an interview with Deadshirt and one with MSN Entertainment Next week... You really have got to see Mad's special way with Osso Buco. I"m not kidding. You have got to watch next week.

The bleating lamb’s chatty tongue now silenced. Lie still. Cat caught you. And you are Still lying? Is there a doctor in the house who isn’t a psychopathic killer monster??? Get me out of this episode, nurse! As Hannibal’s food stylist, I’m looking furtively for food scenes, scanning the script with my hand over my eyes because every line I read is a horrific scene I’ve revisited. Five times. That’s because we are in the Goldenrod revision – that means the script has been changed five times. Back in the paper script days, each revision would be issued on different colored looseleaf paper (consecutively: blue, pink, yellow, green, then goldenrod and on and on until you were in double goldenrod hell) We would clip these new colored pages into our first draft white copy to keep our script updated. Now it’s all paperless but the revisions are still named by the old colors. Except there are no colors…cuz there’s no paper. Gone like the hands of time. Menu planning has its ups and downs In four days the food has gone from this: Initial concept sketch: Tongue Baked in Salt served in the Dining Room with Blood Red Summer Pudding for dessert ...through a couple of rewrites to this: Final plate design: Tongue en Papillote with Duxelle Sauce “Nice to have an old friend for dinner”, says Hannibal at the top of the dining room scene as he presents plates of Lamb Tongues en Papillote to Dr Chilton and Alana Bloom. So, let me see: 3 people times 5 pages of dialogue minus 3 pages of flashbacks times 2 tongues per plate. Ummmm. That’s 72 tongues equals 24 tongues each. I don’t think any of the actors want to eat even the tip of 24 tiny tongues. Especially not the tip. Is Raul Esparza a vegetarian? Does Caroline Dhavernas hate lamb? These are the actors doing the scene with Mikkelsen. My queries to the producer disappear into the black hole of unanswered emails. I think about this as I watch my test batch of lamb’s tongues poach. They curl up into grayish-mauve lobes of what look like blind oversized larvae. They are not tempting. No matter how ghoulish, I want the food to look like something you really want to taste –against your better judgment. Every character in this show is on a knife-edge. Will teeters on the edge of sanity; Hannibal balances between truth and lies; Jack is cold, then kind. I want the food also to have the tension of precarious balance: repellant but tempting. Slightly off-center. The Caesar salad watches with peacock eyes as I deconstruct it on the props table Prepping for the dinner scene, I hand-shape the tongues individually out of a modified Kibbeh recipe – bulgar ground with beef stock and mild spices. I make them bigger than lamb tongues because I want them to look like children’s tongues – out of the mouth of babes. (FBI babes?) Then I steam them and shade them with food coloring. I make 60 which luckily, turns out to be exactly the right amount. If the director had asked for one more take I would have been in trouble. Sometimes you get lucky… A succulent pair of tongues in an origami lotus Sometimes you don’t… Wine Jelly - no problem. Sugared Roses - no problem. Norton grapes - PROBLEM!!!!! Toto, we are not in Norton country Two days before the shoot, another script change that has Hannibal garnishing wine jelly with Norton grapes. I call Chrysalis, the largest grower of Norton grapes in the US. Could they Fed-Ex us some? Sorry, they just shipped out the last of their Nortons but they would phone around to some of the small producers. I call my brother-in-law who studied to be a vintner in Australia. Yes, says Adam, they are in the opposite season Down Under but the grapes are still green. I call John Szabo, the Master Sommelier who contributed wine notes to my Cocktail Chef cookbook. Nothing local that resembles Norton. Can’t I use another large round table grape? No, I say the script calls for Hannibal to peel a Norton grapes to show the flesh is the same color as the skin. All the available grapes have pale green flesh. I call Jojo a crime reporter pal of mine who knows a lot of local wine-makers. OK, I’ve scraped the bottom of my wine-pal barrel. Chrysalis calls back empty-handed. I knew that. I go – as we all ultimately must, to Google. The Great One links me effortlessly to Dr. Violetka Colova of the Centre for Viticulture and Small Fruit Research at the Florida University. She is the world’s leading authority on Norton grapes. She is charming, sympathetic and full of ideas and eye-opening information but has not one single Norton grape in her vast research greenhouse. Only one day left to solve this. I buy a couple flats of large round red grapes and start testing materials: wax, shellac, latex. In the end, I peel the grapes, dye them in purple food coloring, then dip them in some thinned purple pigmented beeswax that I had left over from an encaustic art project. Once the wax hardens, I dust the grapes with white eyeshadow to give them a just-picked bloom. By 10pm, my entire kitchen is decked with little purple balls dying and drying on wire racks. In the middle of my grape-elf work, I get a call from the director: could I bring a couple of grape alternatives. Oh, hey, no problem. I rethink my shellac idea and try painting some of the grapes with nail polish. The results are not bad at all. My call time is in 5 hours. I wake up in 3 hours to phone my assistant, Ettie: On the way to the shoot, please stop at the 24-hour drugstore and pick up an assortment of dark nail polish. We rush to the studio and paint up a batch of alternative grapes. They dry just in time for the director to say he prefers the wax ones. Well, that worked out well. A breadbasket I fashioned from a leaf and a horn gets kicked to the curb (too big for the shot) - in the background are several trays of little tongues waiting to go on camera. As I write this, I’m trying not to worry about the champagne towers I built yesterday for a party scene in “Dr. Cabbie”, a film about a cab driver who becomes famous for delivering babies in his taxi. They are shooting the scene now and I’m not on set to coach the actor as he pours the champagne in that top glass -- camera rolling as the champagne floods over, filling the pyramid of glasses – or not. I hope the props guy is saying, “Well that worked out well.” Now, to get to the meat of the matter, the recipe for this week’s episode: Silver Tongue Devils An easy version of Hannibal's Lambs' Tongues en Papillote with Duxelle Sauce Serves 4 small portions It’s a little tricky to get lamb tongues so I’m giving you a recipe using cooked beef tongue which you can buy by the pound at a deli (or brine and poach a fresh one yourself.) For Hannibal, I folded origami lotuses out of parchment paper to present the tongues but here, I’ll give directions for folding simple foil packets to bake the tongue in. Elegant packets can be made “en Papillote” out of heart-shaped paper if you know the technique and have the parchment, but this foil version is dead simple. For the Duxelles ½ cup chopped red onions 2 cups chopped mushrooms 3 Tbsp butter ¾ cup white wine pinch nutmeg to taste salt and pepper ¼ tsp balsamic vinegar For the Tongue packets 4 sheets light aluminum foil cut in 12” diameter circles 12 oz cooked tongue, sliced ¼” thick cut in pieces 3” x 2” 1 tomato, cut in ½” dice 4 sprigs fresh rosemary olive oil Make the Duxelles: In a very large sauté pan over medium high heat, melt butter and add onions, frying til they begin to soften. Add the chopped mushrooms and saute, stirring frequently, just until mushrooms release their juices. Add wine and boil until liquid is reduced to 2 or 3 Tbsp. Season with nutmeg, salt and pepper and balsamic. Set aside to cool. To make the packets, place a circle of foil on working surface. In the centre of the lower half of the circle of foil, place 1 slice of tongue, top with 1 Tbsp Duxelle, another slice of tongue and more Duxelle. Add another layer if your tongue slices are small. To close up the packet, bring the upper half of the circle of foil over so the upper and lower circumferences meet. Crimp the edges together well, making the seal as airtight as possible and taking care to leave at least one inch of space all around the tongue. This is where the aromatic steam will build up during the baking, puffing out your foil packets. Repeat with remaining foil sheets. Refrigerate until 30 minutes before serving. Reserve remaining Duxelles to serve on the side. Twenty minutes before serving time, place the foil packets on a baking sheet and bake in a pre-heated oven at 350° for 15 minutes. Reheat Duxelles. Plate the foil packets unopened. When guests open their packets at the table, a lovely puff of rosemary-scented steam will rise to whet their appetites. For the shoot, the vegetable accompaniment was steamed squash – to give the actors something to eat other than the bulgar tongues. Next week: Heart Tartare and Jose Andre’s Tomato Brains

A blood drenched friend hovers Above a shrinking husk As his monstrous butterfly Takes wing. Love too late. A sanguine fiend Takes flight. This episode is named Mizumono – the dessert of a Kaiseki dinner. Every course has been laid upon the table – now it’s time for all to be served their just desserts. Continuity photo of Sacrificial Baby Lamb plate with blood oranges, mustard seed farfalle with sage, peppers in minted pea pods and pea shoots. And wow, what crazy treats Bryan Fuller has served up for this final episode. You kind of think you can guess what might happen, but the script amazes with its twists and surprises – and just when you settle in for the finale’s denouement – it smashes you with an even bigger surprise! Hello Air France! Will he stay in Paris or is Berlin calling? My feet were up. Sofa time. From my quick perusal of the production draft, I saw there was no dinner scene. Disappointed but philosophical, I reasoned, with all this killing, Hannibal will be far too busy to have dinner guests, especially a fussy moody guest like Will. It should be no surprise to me if Hannibal doesn’t need a food stylist for the final action-packed episode. So what if they finish out the season without me...everybody bleeding out while I nap and eat bonbons on my sofa. My concept sketch of how I plan to make the baby lamb, what accompaniments I'll make and how the plates will look. But No, it's Yes...I'm back in! It’s into Day 2 of the episode’s 8-day shoot when I am snapped out of "snooze". Emails from Bryan and Jose have started buzzing. Bryan is writing in a dinner scene and wants to use lamb shoulder to represent Jack. Robyn (Jose’s research assistant) jumps in with “sacrificial lamb”. Jose adds “lamb of the Lord” and sends pages of biblical quotes full of fire and brimstone. Hannidaddy, why can't I have plastic action figures like the other kids... I suggest using “rack of lamb” to show the ribs arching up like the steeple of a church or the fingers of praying hands. “Baby lamb,” says Jose. “Great!” says Bryan. I tied the small ribs of the lamb together to resemble praying hands And I’m off to the butcher because it’s Easter right now and the baby lambs are all being bought up. I reserve two over the phone, sight unseen. I’m lucky to get them. Discussing the shot on set with Bryan Fuller, I realize it's ON THE LAM, not about Jack or Will, but Hannibal himself! I wonder if Bryan sits around chuckling to himself about how he tricked everyone. Again. The plates of lamb will be garnished with farfalle (butterfly-shaped pasta) and there will be bread (not Passover, I guess) in the basket because the script calls for bread being pulled apart and steam rising in the shape of wings. So I make half a dozen small Fougasse to represent butterfly wings and some adorably small Epi de ble that will look like butterfly bodies. Sadly, this scene gets dropped so you don’t see Hannibal tearing bread wings off bread butterfly bodies. Lobster hatching from canteloupe and beetles emerging from cala lilies. Tiny melon balls spill out like fish eggs. The other accompaniments will be lobster emerging from a broken cantaloupe. This platter seems to perplex everyone when I bring it to set. I explain: some of you are just not letting your cantaloupe ripen enough. Leave it for a month in the back of a warm car and it will hatch a lobster – or something. Anyway this episode is all about the crisis of birth – you have to break a few eggshells to get the chick. Brilliant Director David Slade discusses how he will shoot the dinner scene. We're going for a crane shot! Yay! The other accompaniment is creepy garden vegetables – okra, heritage tomatoes stuck with rattlesnake tails. Rattlesnake tails and peacock feathers with baby yellow and purple cauliflower, purple baby artichokes, kale, savoy cabbage, patty pan squashes, a giant heritage tomato and okra. Second Unit back with a different vibe. The baby lamb dinner was the last food scene of the last episode – but I’m back in the sound stage the next day to do 2nd Unit stuff. The editing team is asking for all sorts of pick-up shots and inserts to flesh out the final cuts of several of the episodes. Today I have about 6 scenes to shoot. Where is Cooking Lady????!!! Back in Season 1 when wonderful director Peter Medak was in the midst of shooting a kitchen scene, he wanted knife advice. Where is Cooking Lady??!! he lamented. But I had not been called to set that day. Later, when shooting Will preparing food for his pups in Episode 6, it was again decided I should not be called in. It’s just dog food. But it’s not just dog food! This is an important scene that shows Will is transforming into Hannibal. I need to be there to help infuse the scene with essence of Hannibal. I protested to all who will listen. But not too loudly: the scene was being shot in Will’s cabin – on location, way far from the city lights. At night. Up north. In the cold dark snowy sticks. Here's the shooting schedule as a beat sheet. My dog food scenes in red at the bottom. (copyrighted property of C. Burne and Gaumont International - reproduction prohibited) As luck would have it, they didn’t have time to shoot the scene that night so it was dropped. But it is back in now, for Episode 12 and being shot by 2nd Unit, in Stage 2 of the studio. I knew the writers would put it back in. It’s an important scene in tracking Will’s transformation. In this scene he’s alone, cooking. Not for show – not part of the “lure” that he is setting with Jack. He’s truly becoming Hannibal. For Will’s dog food close-ups I’ve brought a lovely assortment of rice; Wehani, wild and basmati, some garden vegetables, fresh turkey meat and stock– to show Will is taking care with ingredients. My best touch: pots of spunky little rosemary plants. If Hannibal has a wall of herbs in his dining room then Will should have a window sill of baby rosemary. Cooking Lady in da house On a good day, the 2nd Unit pace is fast, the humour is high and the energy is creative. Today is a good day – in spite of the crushing list of shots to do. Chris Burne is directing so he will be spinning LPs on the old turntable while we shoot in the cozy “round room” set (Verger’s bedroom). To set the mood for Mads, he sets out a big mason jar (formerly used for snuffing birds) stuffed with flickering dinner candles. The effect is charming, the atmosphere feels intimate and the extreme close-ups come out great. Chris directing Mads in ortolan eating close-ups Candles and Mozart for mood. Loretta Ramos (Living Dead Guy) took this great photo while I was strangling fake birds in the back. The mood carries over smoothly to the next scene: kholodets close-up inserts. Everything is calm and cool. Well, except for the maiming and blood-letting I hear in Studio 1 when I’m over there getting stuff off the prop trolley. They’re shooting Willdigo’s birth scene – Hugh is in throes of becoming Willdigo. He lets out a long blood-curdling howl in the agony of birth. I wince as I hear Hugh wail again for 2 more takes. Each one sounds pretty convincing to me -- I wonder what the director is looking for. The crew is pretty impressed with Hugh’s vocal efforts and breaks into applause when the director finally yells “Cut”. Pulling a skein of saran wrap out of a marzipan bird to make it hollow and easier to eat. . Studio 2 is a rabbits’ warren of sets right now – so many inserts from various episodes have been requested to round out the final edits before they go to broadcast. Every time I round the corner to go to Studio 1, I almost trip over a fake dead horse that is lying on the floor – whether he’s finished with his scene or waiting for it is hard to tell. I resist the urge to take a selfie with it. Bird (fake) drowned in Armagnac Is there life after Kholodets? After the kholodets, we have ortolan scenes to shoot and suckling pig and inserts to do as well, so I have a lot of work ahead of me before my final wrap. Martha de Laurentiis and Loretta Ramos (Living Dead Guy) have noted that it’s my last day on set and graciously drop by my worktables to say a warm goodbye. Other crew wander by for goodbye hugs. Getting the Jelly Beast ready for close up insert shots of the Kholodets that almost killed me When my food scenes are all done, the stage shifts. The crew slips into the darkness to get ready for the next thing on the call sheet: a closed set – where Alana is swallowed by inky shadows in her bedroom. Stage 2 is literally abandoned as everyone either hustles to get ready for the next scene or dashes out to have a quick smoke, get something from the craft truck or go for a 10-1 (to pee, in walkie-talkie code). I’m alone in the vast cluttered bunker to pack up for the last time in this long season and head home. Alone with my thoughts. Me waiting to shoot my interview with Dr Insanity's "Post Mortem" Producer/Director Sharon Seto doing a Hannibal promo shoot in my kitchen studio We had begun shooting in September and now it’s early April. It’s been an exhausting whirlwind. The excitement, the boredom, the sleepless grueling days and nights of running at top speed on empty. The camaraderie, the conflicts and the wonderful creative challenges. I’m so happy that it’s over but I feel a little sad as I pull out of the lot. Will I miss this madness – I can’t tell. All I want to do is sleep. Oh yeah, and eat. Definitely hungry now. Could eat a whole roasted sacrificial lamb….and I’ll bet you could too! There's so much more leg room on this Air France jet.. Get your aprons on. It’s dinnertime! Baby lamb Rack of Sacrificial Lamb Roasting baby lamb is a lot like roasting suckling pig. It is indescribably delicious and delicate but needs a huge oven and a large group of people to eat it plus it can be tricky getting a baby lamb from Mr Grocer so I’m going to give you an alternative recipe for rack of regular lamb – still delicious yummy but easy to get. If you do a pair of racks, you can platter them propped on each other like praying hands as I did for Hannibal’s dinner with Will. I’ve given two different types of seasoning – one a herb rub to oven roast and the other an Asian marinade to barbecue. Both are great but the marinade takes a bit of pre-planning. Serves four 2 racks of lamb (each 5 to 8 bone) Style One: Herb marinade: ¼ cup olive oil 3 to 4 cloves of garlic, crushed 3 sprigs rosemary, stems removed to taste crushed pepper, sea salt 1. In a small bowl, combine all ingredients and rub into lamb. 2. Roast in preheated oven at 425° for 20 to 25 minutes or until medium rare. Rest for 10 minutes and slice and serve. OR if you want to try something different and can start a day or two ahead: Style Two: Satay marinade 1 4-oz bar coconut cream 2 Tbsp water 6 Tbsp peanut butter 2 Tbsp soy sauce 3 Tbsp Satay sauce or Hoi Sin sauce 2 cloves garlic crushed 1. In a small saucepan, melt coconut cream in water over medium heat, cool and stir in remaining ingredients. Spoon over lamb and marinate, refrigerated, overnight or up to 2 days. Reserve excess marinade for basting during cooking. 2. Fire up the BBQ (or preheat the broiler) and barbecue 12 to 15 minutes or until medium rare or broil 4 to 5 minutes per side. Brush with reserved marinade. Allow to rest for 10 minutes and slice and serve. So many Hannidinners - so little time... Here are some that came in last week...Plus the very first one I ever got - from season one.. From Episode 1, Season 1 This gave me the idea of posting photos of your cooking inspired by Feeding Hannibal. It was sent to me by Zsolt Hummel a few days after the very first episode of Hannibal aired. He made Lamb Bourguignon from my recipe and garnished it with purple potatoes and beets on spinach veloute. Chris M did Duck Baked in Clay decorated in flowers and vines 1) just out of the oven Chris' duck- 2) cracking off clay and unwrapping lotus leaf Chris' duck - 3) slicing into the fruit stuffing Tee working wonders, stuffed quails with blood sausage and plated them with pomegranates and beet and potato galette David made this beautiful plate of Huevos in Brioche Tasty looking Sacromonte Omelette also by David Alex S celebrated the return of everyone's favorite ginger - and Season 3 - with a really beautifully photographed plate of very lovely Lomo Saltado Justin and his wife have weekly Hannibal-themed hors d'oeuvres to snack on during the show. They made the Sweetbread-stuffed Quail - plump and luscious looking. Justin's quails on their way into the oven Vic F often make Hannidinners - here's his osso buco This is Vic's juicy looking version of Hannibal's stuffed chicken thigh Another of Vic F's Hannidinners - Stuffed Veal from Season One He made Lomo Saltado for this season's finale. Felipe from Barcelona sent this picture of the Congress of Curious People's last dinner party that he says was inspired by my art and the Baroque Cabinets of Curiosities. A soprano from Licceu Opera sang Handel. Justin threw a dinner party too and sent these gorgeous images X rated stuffed quail cooked and styled by Justin I Bone marrow by Justin Melon rolls - see more of Justin's dinner in his album Solya made my Sacromonte Omelette and blogged about it Alicia G added her personalized touches to my osso buco recipe and also to Jose Andre's Saffron Risotto recipe and was inspired to blog about the delicious results! Thanks for all the fun this season sharing your Hannidinners. I hope you loved the finale, continue cooking and will be back for more servings of same in season 3! Except where noted, all content copyright of Janice Poon and Feeding Hannibal and reproduction is strictly prohibited

Cat and mouse. Claw. Tooth. Fang. When mouse becomes mouser and brings its catch to drop at the feet of its master Tenderly, Mouser becomes master. This episode is named for Naka choko, a course in a Kaiseki dinner. It is a citrusy soup that cleanses the palate to refresh the overexcited taste buds and make the diner ready to receive the completely new sensations that will be offered in the following final courses. I am on tenderhooks awaiting the next draft of the script of this episode. I’m fascinated by the unfolding drama with Margot and Mason Verger. And with all these mad killer pigs running around, there’s bound to be a suckling roast on the menu...eventually. My first concept sketch after reading the production draft script. Before the changes. At first, Hannibal refuses Mason's offer of a freshly killed pig from his man-eating herd. This gets rewritten so I deal with the pig roasting later.... More redhead jokes Lara Jean has a sly smile carrying the Carrot top slaw. Her hat matches the sea urchin shell. The production draft has some irresistible “chopping the ginger” lines that have me very worried about the mortality of Freddie Lounds. I have always liked her blunt honesty and her nerves of steel. I have a recurring mental image of her hurtling off a loading dock strapped in her wheelchair engulfed in flame. But that’s just me. When I see LJ on set, I think BBQ. But no worries – even after almost 2 seasons of shooting Hannibal, I have not yet become a psycho-empathetic. Your guess is as good as mine. I’m just saying, Freddie’s fate hangs in the balance in this episode but I remember how many episodes it took for Beverly to finally meet her baker, so I’m not firing up the barbecue just yet. Food sex food sex food My first food scene on the schedule is a tense “menu a trois” between Will, Alana and Hannibal featuring a little piglet that didn’t get away. Roast suckling pig, of course. Metamorphosis: Lotus chip and skeleton leaf "butterfly wings" in a peach half "body" with red onion "claws" I love suckling pig. I roast my first when I was about 13. My eldest brother had gone off to chef’s school and on his weekends home, he would teach me some of the things he had learned. We made textbook things like “Chicken Cordon Bleu” and “Steak Diane”. Then one weekend he decided we should make a Roast Suckling Pig. Whaaat? But we got right down to it, trussing the thing up and readying it for the oven. It was simple to make—he showed me a few tricks of the trade like putting crumpled tinfoil inside the belly so the pig would sit upright. And a ball of foil in its mouth to be swapped out later for an apple. And foil-wrapping its tail and ears to keep them from burning. When it emerged from the oven it had a tan that would have impressed George Hamilton. It looked like a sculpture and tasted fantastic – crispy skin and velvety textured meat of the most delicate flavour. It was a revelation to me. After that, nothing would seem too difficult to attempt. Getting ready for the retakes: A line-up of spider butterflies scraping blood onto the plates But back to Hannibal. The evening before the suckling pig shoot, the script changed. Of course. The scene was originally mid-meal, (we always love a mid-meal scene - the resets are so simple) But now, Hannibal is to bring out the whole roast and then cut it up to serve to Alana and Will. Sounds good if you are a script writer. Sounds bad if you are a food stylist. Do I roast 7 or 8 pigs so Mads can have a fresh one to carve for each new take? No. I just can’t go there. It is not easy – even for Mads – to carve a whole pig without making a giant mess all over his gorgeous mahogany table. And it’s just a little late for me to get – much less roast – seven identically sized piglets. The director and the prop master are worried about how Mads is going to carve and serve whole pig with ease for the many re-takes. The director loves the idea! This sets my head spinning but luckily, my racing mind trips and falls into the Mud Puddle of Bright Ideas: I realize if I hollow out the saddle of the roast pig and fill it with rice pilaf and pre-cut cubes of crackling and pork, it will simplify the resets. Mads can simply wheel the rice-stuffed roast into the dining room and ladle out the servings. Then all we have to do for resets is refill the same pig with more rice and pork cubes over and over and over. I send this idea out to the heads of Departments and everyone is happy. Roast suckling pig stuffed with rice crawling with langoustine and spilling sausages on a cart of fruit When pigs fly… Except me -- I just don’t have an oven big enough for a 40 lb roly-poly pig – the size I need to make biggest visual impact on screen. So I call up Bernard, my elfin 92-yr-old “lechon” maker and he agrees to roast me up a fat piglet. Well, two. Always back up your work – it wouldn’t be the first time a roast suckling pig broke his crispy little ears off flying across my car’s dashboard in a sudden stop. Piggie on set being made into a serving bowl On the day of the shoot, prep is unusually dissonant –just next to my work tables, the Theremin instructor is teaching Mads and Caroline how to play the instrument. If you have ever endured the sounds of a person earning to play the violin, multiply the earache by five and that’s two people learning to play the Theremin. Add to that the sound of steady hacking as my cleaver chops up the roast piggies and you have an oddly unsettling auditory snapshot. Carrot top Slaw emerging from a sea urchin shell stabbed with porcupine quills and wreathed with hydrangea stems and spider mums Hannibal: “Will, you slice the ginger” Will’s answer, “I already have” was dropped from the early script but when Hannibal and Will cook their first “I know it’s people” meal together, can you doubt that it’s Freddie? Maybe it is...why else would I make Carrot Top Cold Slaw wreathed with bloodless white flowers.... Of course I got help with the carrot curls from Lara Jean's on set Hair stylist, Or maybe it’s just a red herring…which I hint at with a platter of Red Snapper in Singing Rice with crispy skin. Red Snapper with crisped snapper skin on singing rice My clue to you is the fan of porcupine quills: the quill is mightier than the sword. Lomo Saltado with spicy curly fries, the writer's quills and carrot slaw Want Fries with that rice? Long before Wolfgang Puck popularized Asian fusion, Lomo Saltado was invented in Peru by Chinese slaves brought in to work the sugar plantations and guano mines (and you thought you had a shit job…) They blended stir-fry and rice with yellow potatoes and peppers to create a favorite that is cooked up daily in Peruvian homes and Chifas (Chinese-Peruvian restaurants). Made from soy-marinated beef sautéed with onions, tomatoes and yellow Aji peppers, it’s topped with French fried potatoes and served over rice. Double carbs and deep fried? How could it not become a classic? Of course, I add a dash of Freddie and use Spicy Curly Fries as homage to her hair. baby corn and baby purple, yellow and Roman cauliflower in a horn a bit of the script And now to the kitchen for the cook-along pig: Two recipes this week – since you may not want to wrestle a 20-lb pig into your 8-lb baking tray, I’m also giving a recipe for Lomo Saltado which will fit into a pan of any size. Roast Suckling Pig This looks hard but is really easy. The hardest part is getting a pan to fit the pig to fit your oven. You could try putting two shallow sided pans side by side and covering them as one with several layers of tinfoil. The pig you can get by calling an Italian butcher or a local farm that raises organic pigs. Rub: 1 Tbsp dried rubbed rosemary, 1 Tbsp dried rubbed Italian branch oregano 1 tsp. rubbed dried sage 2 Tbsp coarse sea salt 1 suckling pig, about 15 to 20 lb (or to fit your oven) 2 Oranges halved 1 Lemon, halved 4 shallots, halved 1. Preheat oven to 300°F and line the baking pan with parchment or foil. 2. In a small bowl or large mortar, mix together rosemary, oregano, sage and salt. 3. With a large heavy knife such as a cleaver, make a vertical slash through the skin and meat of the pig’s neck along the vertebrae between the shoulder blades ( about 4 inches long) This is to keep the skin from cracking when it browns and crisps. Turn pig over and sprinkle herb-salt mixture liberally in the chest cavity and rub onto the entire interior surface. 4. Place the pig on its side on the baking pan and stuff the chest cavity with the orange, lemon and shallots. Pig should be room temperature at this point to ensure even cooking. 3. Place in oven and roast for about 1 ½ to 2 hours, basting occasionally, then turn the pig over on its other side being careful not to tear the skin. Roast for an additional 1 ½ hours or until thermometer reads 150°F. Baste occasionally. Skin should be very soft and meat just undercooked at this point.Turn the oven up to 450°F. If possible, turn the pig so it is sitting upright. Roast for another 45 min to 1 hr or until skin is golden brown and crisp. (Total roasting time about 12-15 minutes per pound) 6. Remove from oven and allow to rest for at least an hour before serving. Lomo Saltado Will used “Long pork” for this. Peruvians use beef. You can substitute chicken strips or Portobello mushrooms for the beef in this recipe. For four portions served over steamed rice 12 oz sirloin steak cut in strips ¼ “ x ¼ “ x 2 “ 3 Tbsp white wine vinegar 1 tsp soy sauce 1 tsp Worchestershire sauce 1 to 2 cloves garlic, crushed 1 tsp grated fresh ginger, optional ½ tsp crushed cumin seeds, optional 3 Tbsp oil ½ red onion, sliced 2 plum tomatoes, in thin wedges 1 Tbsp aji sauce or other hot pepper sauce salt and pepper to taste 1 cup frozen spicy French fried potatoes 2 – 3 sprigs cilantro, chopped 1. In a small bowl, mix steak strips, vinegar, soy, Worchestershire. garlic, ginger and cumin. Let marinate for at least 30 minutes. 2. Heat Spicy Fries in oven as per instructions on the bag. Keep warm in oven. 3. In a large frying pan or wok over high, heat pan til very hot. Add 1 Tbsp oil and onions. Stir-fry on high heat until onion slices have browned in places and are turning translucent. Do not overcook – they should still be slightly crisp. Return pan to heat and add 1 Tbsp oil and half of the beef slices. Do not crowd the pan or meat will not brown. Stir-fry for 2 – 4 minutes or until meat has browned but still medium-rare. Add meat to bowl of fried onions and repeat with remaining oil and beef. With a paper towel, wipe pan clean of juices. Repeat with oil and meat. Add tomatoes and aji sauce to hot pan and stir-fry until skin starts to peel away and tomatoes start to release their juices. Add beef and onions back into the pan and mix well until heated through. Add hot French fries and toss until everything is well coated with the juices. Add salt and pepper to taste. 4. Serve over steamed rice. Sprinkle with cilantro. Next week: Ortolan: Several little birds will sing no more... And now, more fantastic Hannidinner cook-alongs: You've been busy cooking but not too busy to share with other hungry readers by sending me ([email protected]) photos of your creations inspired by my Hannibal recipes! Joshua adds to the circle of inspiration Here's a photo sent a few months ago by Joshua, a French-Canadian taking fashion in France. He said my Hannibal dinners inspired this photo he shot for an assignment. This episode's plates show how his photo inspired me right back. Hannibal thanks Joshua! Raja K masters the trout-tail fold!!!!! Raja wrote: ...stuffed the trout with garlic and onion, fresh basil and rosemary, lots of butter and cooked it on a frying pan for a short while. I then placed it in the oven to get the whole fish to cook. It came out HEAVENLY DELICIOUS. John N's pork roast came out moist and looks utterly delicious, Hannibal style! John wrote: Every week we get the family together for dinner and the latest episode. I thought I would share one of my creations: Pork loin with a raspberry sauce, rosemary bread, and a spinach kale salad. Everybody loves Hannibal's Huevos and here's Evren's yummy late-night version Evren says...as the daughter of a food photographer I've grown up seeing food stylists work Huevos High Life with some brioche loaf slices and tomatoes for a cheeky midnight snack. Vegard from Norway made this - check his cucumber feather garnish...beautiful Vegard writes: inspired by liver omelette from Suziikana. Very similar to the one in the episode, but with a different garnish (cucumber leaves and tomato roses to go with the tomato salsa). The filling is chopped chicken livers glaced in concentrated meat stock, herbs, spinach and potato. Quite delicious! Tee, shocking and rocking the supermarket says: people kinda freaked when I asked for live fish--gotta settle with just the "fresh" ones and not live ones...also made scallop quenelles Tee W made trout and baby octopus - here's her luscious photography of that dish! Thanks again for sharing all those lovely pictures! All content copyright Janice Poon 2014 unless otherwise noted

Totem. A tower of powerless femurs, fibulas and spines. Red blood on White snow Soiled like a bone china plate. I’m flipping through the Production Draft of 109. There are so many dead bodies in this episode. I need a couple of Will’s aspirins. The images are macabre: a monstrous totem pole sculpted from the broken decaying bodies of ten victims. Erected as the culmination of a killing spree like a gruesome end-of–festival Burning Man. Jack is getting colder and Will is getting crazier. I just want Beverly Katz to march into this script right now and solve the whole thing so I can relax and think about dinner. So I plug “Hannibal’s Dining Room” into the script’s search function and go immediately to the food scene. The meat of the matter is mid-way through the script. Hannibal is serving a red-blood meat dish to Will, Abigail and that rascally Miss Lounds. But surprise! She is a vegetarian. (Miss Lounds, not Lara Jean Chorostecki who plays her.) sketch for dinner scene with Freddie, Will and Hannibal That Freddie Lounds isn’t afraid of anything and though she may have dodged a bullet by ordering salad from Hannibal, I want her leafy greens to be even more menacing than the oozing meat on the Will and Hannibal’s plates. For the salad, I’ll use white asparagus that will suggest finger bones when I cut the stalks into thumb and finger lengths. Lotus root slices will look like Munch "Scream" faces when juxtaposed with bird skulls. What could be more meatless than a clean-picked skull? Skull salad for all - on bone china plates, of course Sketch that up. Get approvals. Get bird skulls. Hmmmm. A bit trickier than I thought – there are so many headless chickens in the shops, shouldn't there be an equal number of disembodied heads somewhere? I ask around and find a woman in a back street of Chinatown who will sell me a big bag of chicken heads. My work here is done, I think. But no, it’s only just beginning. While attempting to boil off the flesh, I realize it is not going to just fall off the bone. This is why every good food stylist needs an able assistant. Ettie, with her usual aplomb and great attitude, patiently cleans the eyeballs, skin and brains off the little craniums, while I reconstruct and bleached them into museum-quality specimens. Roasted Tenderloin with Pomegranate blood spatter Hannibal and Will have beef tenderloin. The morning of the shoot, I’ve roasted 8 filets. Of course, I worry that the roasts will be too well-done too look bloody. Or too rare for the actors to eat. On set, as I slice into each roast, I am relieved to find they are all medium-rare. Lucked out again. A little squirt of pomegranate reduction and the beef slices ooze with the “blood” that the director asked for. Side dish of Anchovies writhing in the Capers Sadly, madly, the on-set daily (a person who is hired on a film for the day, not for the duration of the series) had chucked the bird skulls into the garbage while cleaning the plates between resets. By the time I discover this, the little bones have been buried in the plate scrapings and we were left with only four – rotating them just adding to the challenge of keeping the reset plates flowing for the multiple takes. Bones, bones, bones: phalanges salad with yellow and candycane beets on bone china. Now, where is that bird skull... A confession. I don’t have any recipes for you this week. That’s because I am working on this: Photo courtesy Brooke Palmer NBC A shameless self-promo: The venerable Cookbook Store in Toronto's Yorkville is doing a pop-up dinner in their Studio Kitchen inspired by the food I've been creating for Hannibal. It’s going to be a great evening of food and fun. Brilliant Matt Kantor is the chef for the evening. He’s done pop-ups for elBulli (a 24-course dazzler), Australian pop-ups and the amazing Rush tribute dinner – to name a few. The menu will feature 7 or 8 tasting plates such as Brain Ravioli with Beurre Brun, Deep-fried Lamb Intestine on Panisse, Flambeed Spleen with Apples, Lamb Tongues en Papillote, Humano (veal) Tonato, Blood Sausage Cassoulet, Chocolate Blood Tarte. If you’re in Toronto June 18, why not join us! Wait – I do have a recipe! For all of you who have been asking for the High Life Eggs recipe. Thanks to wonderful Robyn Stern, Jose Andre's culinary researcher who sent these photos of the pages of Jose Andre's antique copy of Practicion, the 19th century culinary guide written by Angel Muro. Here is the recipe as it is in Spanish from the original text. I’m experimenting with it next week using duck eggs and will post my findings. In English. Huevos high-life recipe pg 1 Huevos recipe continued pg 2 from Jose Andres library Next week: Jamon Iberico and Spanish tapas.

Consuming consommé: Restorative rest or rant? He offers you Clear broth with Cloaked intentions. Soup to Nuts. A week in the life food styling for Hannibal: Feb 15 - Preliminary draft, unnumbered This script has not yet been broken into numbered scenes, so I mindfully ignore that page 35 has a two-page scene with Hannibal serving Abigail a lemony dish of what looks like veal. I’m still wrangling sheep’s gut for the previous episode and haven’t got time to sketch up a veal picatta. However, while I sleep I dream of veal noisettes mingled with char-grilled lemon halves nestled in leafy lemon boughs woven like a laurel crown on the antlers of a black stag. I wake up and sketch. Mid-way through the script, Will is hospitalized. Hannibal brings him a steaming Tupperware container of a restorative breakfast. Feb 16 – Preliminary sketch Sketch for draft version of the script Feb 20 - Preliminary Production Draft released Poor Will is in hospital – Hannibal brings him a Tupperware container of amaranth porridge garnished with cruciferous vegetables, legumes and grains. This does not mean he is too busy to make dinner – a guy’s gotta eat - but now his guest is Bedelia, not Abigail. And although the script is being totally rewritten and the Dining room scene is represented only with sluglines, I’m saddened because I know that now, Hannibal’s going to have to do the dishes himself. Madame duMaurier is not the kind of woman who helps you wash up. Sketch for draft script Feb 20- One-Liner issued with only Day One and Day Two bookable Prop Master says “get the ball rolling” – meaning the conversations with Jose Andres and OKs from producers. OK on the hospital scene. It will be a Chinese medicinal soup my father used to make. That was decided last night in a volley of late night emails between Bryan Fuller, Robyn Stern and myself. Which is a good thing because it is first up on Day Two. Not so OK on the Dining Room Scene which is nowhere to be seen in the One-Liner – the day-by day shooting schedule. Chinatown shopping - full of fun surprises I spend the morning gathering fresh black chickens from Chinatown. I need four and each shop I visit has zero to two. I guess black silkie chicken is not a really big item right now, unlike inverted pig rectums – which are everywhere. Returning to my kitchen studio, I email Mike, the Prop Master. Script asks for steam on the soup I ask him if I should prepare for that or can steam be done in Post. But I already know that post-production special effects are too costly. Not surprisingly, Mike says to give the director real steam options. Back in the day, we used to blow cigarette smoke through straws onto the dish when we wanted steam. Nice! Smoke drifts up because heat rises. But pesky health nuts have driven cigarettes outdoors and now lighting up on set is unheard of. I can but dream of the series of commercials I once shot for Rothmans cigarettes where daily, the suits brought cartons of their product to the studio and gently encouraged us to chainsmoke throughout the sessions. Here's the Silkie chicken before I made him into broth. That's white fungus clumped around him. (Photo courtesy Brooke Palmer Sony/NBC) Feb 22 - Day Two of Eight Late at night, I pack up my little car which fails to start. Give my battery a jump-start and cross my fingers. In the morning, it starts like a charm. Thank goodness because my food scene is first up: Black Silkie Chicken broth with red dates, wolfberries, bok choy, ginseng and white fungus. That plate garnish is a Silkie chicken foot tied with pea shoots. About that steam... Food styling photographs with steam is no problem. For stills, you can use any number of toxic chemical combos to great effect. But for steam in an eating scene, I regret to say the usual solution is tampons. (T28s in crew-talk). You camouflage them with food coloring, soak them in water, microwave them just before shooting and stuff them under the food. Voila, steam. Tampons - nay; pompoms - yea! trimming pompoms to put in mushrooms for steam effect But I don’t like the potential for embarrassment or misogynistic snickering. Plus there’s nowhere in a clear broth to hide a honkin’ big tampon. So I make my own little steam-poms. Fat pompoms made out of several shades of brown cotton wool, soaked in water, stuffed into Chinese black mushroom caps that have had the stems and spore gills scooped out. I give the wooly pompoms little brush-cuts so they resemble the excised spore gills. Then, just before each take, we microwave them under plastic wrap and float them in the broth. Wow, did you see that steam billow off the soup!!!!! You didn’t? Really? No? On the cutting room floor, you say? C’est la vie... Done like Dinner By Day 4 of 8 it looks like the dinner in scene 26 is out. The dialogue has moved to Bedelia’s home. I can relax for the rest of the week. Except the sheep gut scene for the previous episode still has to be shot, along with some food scenes to reshoot for Episode 6 and the draft script for Episode 12 will be popping up in a few days. Other than that, I’m all resto-relaxo. Time to stew up a restorative broth! Here's a recipe for you so you can personally test the efficacy of a tasty broth with wolfberries - a herbal remedy that has been used in China for several millennia to increase virility. Wolfberries in Tomato-Beef Broth Wolfberries aka Goji berries are small dried red berries that can be found in Asian grocery stores and health food stores. This recipe is beef-based but you can use regular chicken instead - or Silkie chicken if you can find it - it's tough so you must slow-cook it to tenderize it, and it tastes a bit gamey but makes a rich delicious broth. Substitute cubes of boneless chicken for beef and add strong chicken stock instead of water. ½ lb beef round or sirloin, cut in 1-inch cubes 2 Tbsp butter 1 lg onion, sliced 1 lg can plum tomatoes, crushed. ½ oz dried wolfberries 2 cups water 1 lg carrot, cut in chunks ½ cup fresh green peas salt, pepper to taste 1. In a heavy pot with lid, heat butter over medium-high heat and add beef cubes, stirring til brown. Add onions and stir til lightly browned. Add tomatoes, wolfberries and water. Bring to boil, then lower heat, cover and simmer for 2 hours or until beef is tender. 2. Add carrots and simmer for 20 minutes. Add peas and simmer for 10 minutes. Season to taste and serve. Next week: Tete de Veau - Two sneaky shrinks dine on Rolled Head of Girl Veal.

Curing Conceals Killing. Salt in the wound. He can smell the disease you can not see. Deadly perfume. As first light breaks, I approach the windowless warehouse. No one in sight, so I try the door. It swings open to a darkened stillness. I slip inside, eyes straining for light and make my way to the waiting crates. Then I see it - the silhouette of a severed leg. I grab it and stiffly swing it around. It topples against me, dry skin and bare bone brushing my arm. But my eyes have adjusted to the darkness and I can see the Apparatus just beyond. With all my might, I push back on the leg and heave its fleshy thigh onto the massive spike at the base of the Apparatus. With what strength I have left, I twist the ankle into Apparatus’ spiked metal cuff. Steady now... turning the bolt, I clamp the leg in place. I know have the upper hand, now - finding the knife, I raise its curved blade to the beast. Having a little nightmare? No. Just getting the leg of bone-in Spanish ham into the ham holder stand. My big food scene is first up and I have arrived an hour before call time -- way before any of the crew so the house lights are not on yet. Just a few dim task lights dotted throughout the vast studio in the maze of flats that make up the various sets of Hannibal. When you purchase a whole Iberico Jamon, the hoof has been removed to comply with import regulations so I did what Hannibal might do if somebody's foot gets sawed off while you are making her leg into a nice ham: I built a fake hoof out of wax, putty and shoe polish and attached it to the cut end of the bone, drape on a nice decorative rope and voila! No one the wiser... I love the stillness in the sound stage before call time. The calm before everyone arrives. Then, gradually the day begins: first, the house lights come on, the bins and crates start rolling across the floor, Set Dec arrives to put final touches on decor and Props begins laying out and organizing the multitude of carefully chosen items that actors will handle as the day of scenes spools out over the next ten hours. Hair/Makeup and Wardrobe begin to work their magic on the actors whose drivers are dropping them at their trailers one by one. Electrical/lighting crews arrive and start heaving cables and heavy equipment. The activity and noise level rise to a steady hum. Sound, the only silent department. Slowly, the Beast has come to life. Just about ready to go to camera. Jamon looking like a ballerina - hoof looking like a size 4 Manolo Blahnik First break of the day... I’ve set up my food styling station so, looking for a bite of breakfast and a cappuccino, I step outside to the craft truck, a compact mobile kitchen full of munchies run by Craft Service. They are the caterers who provide us with meals, snacks and substantials (bigger than snacks smaller than meals). What would we -- the sad, complaining, sleep-deprived worker bees -- do without their steady stream of food: muffins, potato chips, bananas to break the monotony of waiting for your scene to be shot; cappuccino, juice and diet coke for refreshment on the run; lunch buffet to mark the middle of our day – which often starts in the dark of night. And for the food stylist, Craft Service can be a godsend - a fridge to raid when you need just one more tomato to get through the retakes or a can opener when you forgot to bring one. First draft food sketch The food scenes of this episode have gone through a number of changes. The unspecified dinner with Jack has turned into a cozy fireside foodless drink and a two-page beef dinner with Dr Sutcliffe has changed to a three page dinner with ham. Goldenrod revision script food, revised to add more assorted tapas platters Hannibal uses the Jamon Iberico Bellota as a conversational metaphor, exposing his dinner guest’s glib attitude toward connoisseurship. Sutcliffe scoffs, Facts have nothing to do with quality - if you say something is superior, it becomes superior. Well, we know that this facile remark is going to make Hannibal stew – or at least par-boil. Connoisseurship is made through the long process of understanding the details - the many small facts that each incrementally distance the superior from the merely OK as inexorably as cream rises to the top. Well, if you are a Hume-ist , not a Rousseau-ian. And about that superior ham.... “The Jamon Iberico is everything I’ve read about and more.” Just one line in the revised script had propelled me once more, late into the fray. Several trips to the farmers market, a half-dozen long distance phonecalls, favors from local chefs called in and lots of red herrings until at last I locate someone who can deliver a whole bone-in Jamon Iberico Bellota – in 2 days because that’s when we are shooting. Fermin is the sole importer in North America of the prized Jamon Iberico Bellota de Embutidos Fermin. Serrano is their distributor locally. In partnership with Jose Andres (would it have killed someone to tell me this and saved me a half-day of food sleuthing) they worked for over a decade to get through the USDA and bring this buttery nutty melt-in-your-mouth ham to North America. It is the Rolls Royce of Spanish gastronomy. Additional tapas to serve with the Jamon: Octopus salad on a bed of salted seaweed The day before the shoot, Jose had given me a phone tutorial on slicing ham in the manner he invented. Cut the top third, but just the top layer, he urges. But I am too dense to understand, No, leave the fat. Just cut the top part off flat, then the top part-way down. I wish I knew what he was talking about. Send me a picture, I plead, knowing a picture is worth a thousand cellphone minutes. Happily, Mike who delivered my ham has given tutorials on ham slicing and came equipped with a video, a pamphlet and a full kit that included an apron that is, curiously, spit up the middle below the waist. If I were a butcher, this is the area I would most wish protected. But just goes to show, how little I know of these things. The market price for this whole bone-in ham with a sleek Jose Andres designed ham holder is around $3500. Pretty pricey, but if you’re looking for just a taste of this ham, it sells by the slice – or better, shavings for $20 to $25 for 100 gm. (yes, this is the kind of thing you buy by the gram). But make sure it is real Iberico Jamon Bellota. Sliced off the bone, if possible. A lot of salumerias sell a boneless product so they can slice it super-thin like proscuitto on their electric slicer. Anyway, it’s all delish but if you can, go for the best – if only once. More tapas: A shrimp boil garnished with purple and green brussel sprouts Time for you to eat! But instead of a recipe, this week -- a guide to buying Jamon Iberico Bellota and why you should. Spanish Ham 101: Jamon Iberico is made from the Iberico pig, a breed in Spain that descended from wild boars. They are dark grey and have long legs with black hoofs, which is why they are sometimes called Pata Negra. After their first birthday, they are released into fields of ancient oaks to roam free and feast on plump acorns as they ripen and fall to the ground. They enjoy this idyllic life until til the vareador has nudged the last acorn off its branch and the season ends. (This is the guy whose sole job is to wander among the oaks with a long pole and shake the acorns out of the trees for the happy pigs. I know I should put this information in a link but I’m going old-style parentheses for lack of computer skill. And also, a link doesn’t give me an opportunity to say that I just realized that being a vareador is the one job that might be better than Hannibal Food Stylist. Where do I apply?) The best pigs are born in October because when they are old enough to release to the acorn fields, nuts are just beginning to ripen so these piggies can graze for the full season. Lucky by birth date like hockey players or race horses born in January. Use a super sharp long thin slicing knife to artfully slice your bone-in ham into thin curly shavings. Buy the Bellota The best grade is Bellota which means the pig was able to double its weight in the acorn-grazing phase. This weight allows the pork, once salted, to cure for three years or more. It will have a red cord or label to mark it. The dark pink flesh will have a generous inclusion of dots of cream coloured fat. The best Bellota is the Jamon, or hind leg. It usually has a red cord twisted behind the hoof to label the quality. You can also get a Paleta, the foreleg, which is smaller and not quite as fatty but is not as costly. I’ve seen them with a dark grey cord. Cebo, pronounced "Say-bow", not cheap-o Cebo is another grade of Iberico ham but it is made from pigs that did not double their weight so were only able to cure for two years. Also delish but not sprinkled through with as much melty specks of fat as the Bellota. Less expensive, this ham often is marked by a yellow/green cord or label. I’m not so sure about the colour-coding on cords - there is definitely a status message there but it is as unknowable to me as handkerchiefs in jean pockets. Serrano for show Serrano is a lighter, less fatty ham that has been aged for 12 months or less. The flavour is not as complex and not speckled with fat but is quite nice and also comes bone-in so if you want to have a party with an authentic Spanish ham centerpiece for a couple hundred dollars, this is your baby. Eat it with your fingers with crusty bread, good green olives (bella di cerignola!) and salted smoked almonds. And a bone-dry Manzanilla or Fino sherry, slightly chilled. Good fat not bad fat Don’t worry about all that fat – it has crystallized in the years of curing into a fat that is good for you. Next week: Sheep's entrails! Chewin' on chitlins while Dr Chilton chats. If you were wondering about how I became a food stylist, something from CNN: on.cnn.com/11g71Ol

Limbs and antlers A horrid tangle. Matted hair. Spatter. Viscera. No one dines tonight. The script for episode 3 is totally horrifying: there’s no food!!!! It’s a food stylist’s worst nightmare. But there are stags and does galore bounding in and out of the corridors of the mad minds in this episode. So it seems right to give you a recipe for venison stew to ruminate over. Then, to fill up the rest of this week’s entry, I’ll share with you some shots and stories from the amazing shoots that SonyNBC did for their Hannibal promos and EPKs (electronic press kits). Get Set Here is the set being prepped. Eagle-eyed fans of the show will notice that the dining room is not quite the same as Hannibal’s. We completely re-created the set in another studio so the camera would see exactly what was in the art director’s eye. Some of the dishes on Hannibal’s table: Octopus and its babies eating crow; Kidney and sausage pie (to honor the pies of Bryan Fuller’s wonderful Pushing Daisies): Papaya spewing Heart Tartare onto pastry puffs. Playing with your food It’s the unspoken part of the food stylist’s professional work ethic: – you must play with the food after the shoot. So here I am, hamming it up and strumming the $2,000.00 Jamon Iberico from Episode 7. The famed black hoof has, sadly, been cut off by customs so, for our shoot, I sculpt a fake foot for the salted beast out of wax and shoe polish. With the red cord that identifies the Jamon as top grade, the leg could almost be that of a Spanish dancer wearing a patent leather Manolo Blahnik stiletto. photo courtesy Sharon Seto Hannibal cleans up en Espanol This promo (click here) just makes me laugh. Something about that tiny Dyson removing invisible crumbs is so perfect for Hannibal. And it is such a contrast to handling mountains of dishwashing and lugging of tubs of water and bagging pails of garbage and incinerating offal and hours of scrubbing and sweeping that go on in my studio kitchen and the set kitchen every time Hannibal lifts that fork of his. As promised, a recipe for your stag party: Venison Stew This recipe will serve 6 to 8. You could serve half of it as stew with buttery mashed potatoes and a warm crusty bread and then make the rest into Pot Pies to freeze for another day. Stagger the stag so to speak. Marinade: 2 cups red wine 1 cup red wine vinegar 1/2 cup gin (optional) ½ cup olive oil 1 Tbsp chopped garlic 6 juniper berries, crushed 1 tsp black pepper, crushed 1 tsp Italian oregano, rubbed ¼ tsp rosemary 3 lb venison cut into 1-inch cubes 3 Tbsp flour 8 slices bacon cut in 1-inch pieces 3 Tbsp olive oil 2 cups veal stock 1 medium onion, cut in ¼-inch slices 3 medium carrots, cut in 1-inch pieces 3 medium parsnips, cut in 1-inch pieces ½ cup chopped pitted prunes 1. In a large bowl, combine all marinade ingredients and add venison. Marinate in fridge for 4 hours. 2. Preheat oven to 325º. Drain venison, reserving liquid. Pat venison dry with paper towels. Dredge in flour. In a large saute pan, heat 1 Tbsp olive oil over medium high heat, add a third of the venison and fry just until brown. Remove to a Dutch oven or other large, heavy baking dish with lid. Repeat until all venison is browned. Add reserved marinade liquid, beef stock and prunes to baking dish, cover and bake for 1 ½ hour or until meat is tender. 3. In sauté pan, fry bacon over medium-high heat until fat is rendered. Remove bacon and set aside, leaving fat in pan. Add onions to pan and sauté until golden and translucent. Set aside. Add carrots and parsnips to pan and brown lightly. Add to baking dish along with bacon and onions. Add water if necessary – liquid should just cover the meat. Return baking dish to oven with lid on and bake for another ½ hour or until vegetables are soft and meat is tender. Add salt if necessary. Next week: Foie pas -- forcing liver on the dinner guests

Songbird Surrounded by the scent of death Caged Yet singing Still This episode is named for Ko ko Mono, the course of preserved vegetables that signals the beginning of the end of the Kaiseki dinner. Its crisp textures and aromatic vinegared flavors sharpen the senses and prepare the diner for the final courses. Please pass some to Alana. Not all background actors are boars and dummies but here is a couple waiting outside the studio for their scenes to start Ortolans, then and now I have known for some time that ortolan will be on the menu at Hannibal’s table. This lovely bird has frequent mention in Harris’ novels: as a child he hears them in the woods beyond Lecter Castle; he listens to their song at the Café de L’Este with Lady Murasaki; he hears them again trilling in the background of a threatening phonecall – then releases them after he dispatches their hapless cager - the restaurateur who put them on the menu and his sister in the soup. I imagine these little songbirds flitting from room to room like yellow moths in Hannibal’s Memory Palace. Ortolans are tiny songbirds no bigger than a man's thumb. Unfortunately for their species they are delicious. Now illegal to sell for the purposes of eating, they are famous as food of gourmands through the ages. They are captured live and force-fed til they are bloated. Not with a feeding horn, as are foie gras geese and ducks, but by taking advantage of their instinct to feed voraciously at night. Romans used to blind the birds so they would think it was night and feed endlessly. Now, they are merely put in covered cages and fed nuts and fruit. When they become so bloated they cannot move, they are quickly drowned in Armagnac, then plucked and roasted whole - they are eaten in one mouthful - bones guts and all. The little head with the brain and the crispy beak is thought to be the best part. Traditionally, one covers one's head with a cloth napkin while eating the bird so God will not see you engaging in such debauched indulgence. My sketch sent to Heads of Departments prior to shooting The early draft of the script has the food scenes fleshed out so I have already been working on the cooking and eating of ortolans. The problem I have is that eating the bird is illegal. I couldn’t buy one let alone the two dozen I would need for the dining room scene. And as dedicated as I am to this show, I am not going to get a bb gun and hie to the hills of Gdansk to bag them. Besides, Mads and Hugh may not be up for chomping their way through several pounds of whole baby birds. I need to make ortolan fakes. The birds they used in Babette’s Feast were made of marzipan – the ones in Gigi must have been quail – judging by the size. Ortolans are not much bigger than a man’s thumb. Faking the songbirds I don’t want to make them out of marzipan because it would be a horrible thing to ask Mads and Hugh to eat that much hot, sweet, gummy almond paste. (Hot, because they will, like Freddie-in-a-wheelchair, enter flaming.) Some sad examples of what not to use: gnocchi, solid potato, gefilte fish There must be something that tastes neutral but can be sculpted to look like a little roast bird. I experiment: carved potatoes have promise but fall apart after cooking…gefilte fish has the wrong texture…gnocchi shows promise until the revised script comes in saying that Hannibal “lifts the bird by the head and puts the body in his mouth…then draws the head and beak into his mouth blithely crushing them between his molars.” None of the things I have been working with are solid enough for that. The slightest pressure would cause the head to crack off and roll across the table. When all else fails, use marzipan So with the deadline nearing, I decide that marzipan is my best alternative. Mads and Hugh will just have to act like they are enjoying it. I carve a little wooden cradle for forming the birds – so they won’t have flat backs – and cut up a square of fiberglass mesh from a window screen to press against the marzipan to make the skin texture. Pine nuts for eyes and spaghetti for the little legs. I make them hollow so they will be a little easier to eat. Testing the flame colour of various flammable substances - hmmmm overproof rum, brandy or lighter fluid? Decorated tray ready to go out with Buddy and Pedro in the pan. I named the two "ortolans" after a pair of penguins at the Toronto Zoo who were internet stars a few years ago for their ill-fated love affair.. Acting delicious… The shoot goes well. I’ve planned to accompany the ortolans with oysters and foie gras – just like the last controversial meal of Frances’ President Mitterrand before he died of cancer. And although Mads and Hugh hate the marzipan, they do the scene beautifully sending my hand-made baby birds to a fiery sticky death by cognac flambe – eating them whole imagining the crunchy bones, guts, Armagnac-filled lungs -- take after take after take. oysters on barnacles and fake ice crawling with crayfish Torchon of wine-cured foie gras decorated with butterflies (Will) and peacock feather eyes (Hannibal) The kitchen scenes will be shot in tomorrow by 2nd Unit. So I have to head back to my studio kitchen and make another flocking bunch of the baked buntings overnight. Second Unit has a different vibe. Usually, I work with Main Unit because the dining room scenes are long and involve dialogue. Second unit does close-ups or pick-up shots -- quick sequences that will be cut into the main action -- usually shot MOS (without sound) with a much smaller crew. The atmosphere is comfortable and intimate. The team works fast and tight. If Main Unit is an opera house, 2nd Unit is a downstairs jazz club. I will enjoy the low-key pressure of playing by ear. Chris Burne is directing so he will be spinning LPs on an old turntable while we shoot his inventive angles. It’s nearing the end of the season so the editors have a long list of close-ups and inserts they need to polish the final edits. I’ll tell you all about it in a couple weeks. Another batch of ortolans prepped for next day's 2nd Unit But now, it’s time to cook! PUT THAT BUDGIE BACK!!! We are not roasting tiny tweeters! That’s just wrong. Here’s a recipe for the next best thing: Quail. Which are perfectly legal and can be easily and inexpensively purchased reassuringly headless, clawless and totally gutless on a Styrofoam tray. Stuffed with sweetbreads to give your dinner that Hannibal touch. Quail Stuffed with Sweetbreads 3 mains or 6 appetizers 1 lb Sweetbreads 4 Tbsp Butter 1 cup Onions, dices ½ cup Celery, diced 1 cup Mushrooms, diced 1 tsp Fresh thyme leaves 1 tsp Green onions, chopped 2 Tbsp Red wine pinch Ground nutmeg Salt, Pepper to taste 6 Quails 3 slices Bacon, halved 6 pc Butcher’s string 1. Soak sweetbreads overnight in water. Drain and rinse well. In a medium-sized saucepan, cover sweetbreads with cold water and bring to boil over high heat. Turn heat to low and simmer for 15 minutes. Drain and rinse under cold water to stop cooking. Peel off membrane and connective tissue. Chop coarsely and set aside. 2. In a large sauté pan, melt butter over medium-high heat. Add onions and sauté for 2 minutes. Add celery and sauté for another 2 minutes. Add mushrooms and saute until juices have evaporated and mixture is fairly dry. Remove from heat. Add chopped sweetbreads, thyme, green onions, wine, nutmeg, salt and pepper. Mix thoroughly and allow to cool. 3. Preheat oven to 400°F (200°C). On a baking sheet, crumple a large sheet of foil so it forms 6 evenly spaced shallow “nests” on which to balance each quail. This will keep the quails upright and ensure even browning. 4. Using paper towel, dry the quail inside and out. Sprinkle salt and pepper inside and out. Stuff the cavity of each quail with sweetbread mixture. Thread a toothpick through each cavity opening to keep stuffing from falling out. Tie legs of each bird together with string. Place quails on prepared sheet and place one piece of bacon on top of each bird. Roast for 15 to 20 minutes or until browned. Rest for at least 10 minutes, remove string and toothpicks and serve. Flambe them at the table if you wish with warm cognac or brandy. If you flambe these birds, raise a glass to Freddie Lounds – the bait in the lure. It’s really really hard for that outspoken redhead to play dead. I got a message from her saying she was hiding out at Will’s place – finding only Steinbeck, Hemingway and fishing magazines his bookshelves – so nothing much for her to do except play with the dogs… Next week: what’s black and white and read red all over? More of you have been cooking and sharing: Frittata by Christian Christian S sent along this photo of his deliciously fresh looking frittata with shrimp! Lounds-o Saltado made by Rosendo Rosendo M went to university in Perú and writes: "You can imagine how wide-eyed I got when Hannibal decided to cook this. Followed your directions and this came out easily one of my best plates. Can't wait for season 3!" Maru's Osso buco - love the stag onthe risotto dish And dessert in the same red white and green Italian theme - Maru's Dolce Vita Maru made the ossobuco with risotto milanese and reports "added sauteed green asparagus (because I felt there had to be more veggies, especially green ones.) As a dessert, to go with the red-white-green Italian theme, I combined flourless white chocolate cake, raspberry and kiwi with cranberry sauce, chopped pistachios and whipped cream. yummilicious lamb's hearts on mashed potatoes from Arron and Emma in Leicester Arron and Emma try their own ideas for a Hannibal themed dinner for two each week. Arron says,"First week we made Bacon wrapped lambs heart with Broccoli and Mash potato (We Brits love our mash!) and Emma made a lovely blood cherry cheesecake." Arron's helping hand in the pate-making ready for the oven Roasted! Emma's blood-drizzled cheesecake Next week Arron decided to go all out and made a whole arm feast! He describes, "Stuffed Pork loin with Cumberland and apple sausage stuffing and a sausage hand based upon my own! We served it with honey roasted figs, baked apple and grapes, with Dauphinoise potatoes, asparagus with cheese and dried bacon. Emma made a lovely lemon tart that also went well with the honey roasted figs & crème fraiche." Thanks for sharing your Hannimeals - you continue to amaze me with your ability!!! pix to: [email protected] Unless otherwise stated, all content copyright Janice Poon 2014