Hors d’Oeuvres and Wine...Hope and Fear

by Libby

Gamache glanced into the body of the room, packed with men and women milling about and chatting, juggling hors d’oeuvres and wine. (A Trick of the Light, Kindle, p.16)

It is Clara's opening at the Musée d’Art Contemporain in Montréal. This is no mean feat having a solo exhibition at such a major art museum as the MAC. 

I really like this scene. It is very much an 'exposition' of hope and fear, through the eyes of several key players. And I like the sense of being right there with them, amongst the crowd, quietly observing and listening.

Oh, no, no, no, thought Clara Morrow as she walked toward the closed doors. She could see shadows, shapes, like wraiths moving back and forth, back and forth across the frosted glass. Appearing and disappearing. Distorted, but still human. (A Trick of the Light, Kindle, p.1)

Clara's crisis of confidence in professionally showing her work speaks of her self-doubt. Understandable really. The thing about making art is that it is so inextricably tied up with your sense of self, that it’s a bit of a tightrope and easy to teeter between self-belief and self-doubt.

This one event is the culmination of all her hopes and ambitions as an artist. But fear shadows hope. At this level in the art world she has a lot to gain or lose as her work is judged in the most public way.

Through her emotional and intellectual challenges as an artist she has finally found a language of expression that fulfils her vision, her ideas, and that is resonating with others. Now she is faced with putting it out there. It’s risky and it's personal. Will her works be understood, and stand up to rigorous scrutiny at the highest levels in the art world? How will others see and interpret her works that have great personal meaning and import, that are the product of years of working towards this moment. There is more on show here than Clara's paintings. It is a collision of all her artistic hopes and fears.

We are there in that moment Clara panics. She has always been in Peter's shadow. He was the recognised artist. His works sold. He should be the first to exhibit at the MAC. All she wants to do is flee. But who comes to her aid, understands her fears at that moment better than anyone, and steadies her?

It wasn’t Peter. Instead, ... Olivier Brulé. He was kneeling beside her, watching, his kind eyes life preservers thrown to a drowning woman. She held them. ... “I don’t think I can do it.” Clara leaned forward, feeling faint. ... “I know,” whispered Olivier. “But I also know you. Whether it’s on your knees or on your feet, you’re going through that door.” He nodded toward the end of the hall, his eyes never leaving hers. “It might as well be on your feet.” (A Trick of the Light, Kindle, p.3)

We know Olivier faces his own fears about acceptance and rejection, about redefining himself in the Three Pines community and rebuilding relationships when trust has been broken. But he is there for Clara, and he wins our respect.

And what of Peter? This scene is as much about him as it is of Clara. In counterpoint to her, Peter has entered the exhibition in a seemingly buoyant mood. What appears to be a supportive albeit brave face, masks an artist whose hopes and fears are also at a crossroad. Peter's art has come to a standstill, and he has much to fear. He is trapped in a cycle of producing the tightly executed works that had made his reputation as an artist...and now faced with the horror of an empty canvas, an absence of vision and new ideas, his creative process paralysed in his pursuit of some sort of 'detailed' perfection.

You cling ever more tightly to what you already know you can do — away from risk and exploration, and possibly further from the work of your heart. ... The trap is perfection: unless your work continually generates new and unresolved issues, there’s no reason for your next work to be any different from the last. (David Bayles, Art and Fear: Observations on the Perils (and Rewards) of Artmaking)

Plagued by the fear that Clara's art will eclipse his own, and that his will no longer be relevant, we watch as he moves through the exhibition space looking for an opportunity to inveigle himself into the company of any prominent art dealer who can shore up his reputation and give him the recognition he needs. We feel for him, and wince.

Clara's paintings are not the only focus at this show. We know that Gamache is experiencing some trepidation of his own, in anticipation of seeing Olivier. And as their eyes meet across the room, as much as Gamache hopes Olivier can reconcile with him, he fears, well really accepts, that it will take more time.

And then, we’re with Beauvoir sharing his view of Annie Gamache, and we are privy to his intimate feelings. What can he possibly hope? What do we? And what should he fear as Ruth joins him, grips his arm and follows his gaze across the room to find what is capturing his attention. What a moment!

And once again we’re with Gamache, who perhaps more than any other, has seen the truth in Clara's work and has been greatly moved by it. Sometimes what we see in an artwork is what we bring to it.

I like the way Louise Penny ends this scene on a slightly cryptic note, that leaves us wondering, and even marvelling, about the power of art.

Amid all the brush strokes, all the elements, all the color and nuance in the portrait, it came down to one tiny detail. A single white dot. In her eyes. Clara Morrow had painted the moment despair became hope. François Marois stepped back half a pace and nodded gravely. “It’s remarkable. Beautiful.” He turned to Gamache then. “Unless, of course, it’s a ruse.” “What do you mean?” asked Gamache. “Maybe it isn’t hope at all,” said Marois, “but merely a trick of the light.” (A Trick of the Light, Kindle, p.28)

Hors d’Oeuvres

I love to entertain with lots of 'small bites' or finger food to eat. At Clara's exhibition opening, hors d'oeuvres (that are not identified) are served with wine. So I prepared three possibilities, with ingredients that can be prepared ahead of time and quickly assembled, to serve easily as finger food with drinks: baked ricotta with an oven-dried tomato and basil leaf on a cocktail stick; witlof (endive) leaves with goat's curd, roasted capsicum (pepper) and vincotta; hot-smoked trout with crème fraîche, lemon and parsley on sourdough bread.

Baked ricotta with an oven-dried tomato and basil leaf on a cocktail stick

- bite-sized slices of baked ricotta (recipe follows)

- oven-dried tomato halves (recipe follows)

- fresh basil leaves

- cocktail sticks to serve

Place a piece of baked ricotta, a large basil leaf and an oven-dried tomato on a cocktail stick, to serve.

Baked ricotta

The ricotta cheese used in this recipe is the low-fat, hard ricotta that is sold in pieces cut from a wheel (not the soft ricotta sold in tubs). Slow-baked with a covering of herbs to create an aromatic and spicy flavour, it can be cut into bite-sized pieces for assembling with other ingredients. You can make this two or three days ahead of time, and refrigerate, to allow the flavour to develop.

 

-  a wedge of low fat ricotta

-  3 tbsp of dried oregano

-  3 tbsp of finely chopped fresh oregano

-  3/4 teaspoon of dried chilli flakes

-  1 tsp of sea salt and freshly ground black pepper

-  6-10 fresh bay leaves

-  several sprigs of fresh rosemary

-  extra-virgin olive oil

1.  Pre-heat the oven to 180C/350F

2. Pat the ricotta piece dry with some kitchen paper.

3. Coat it generously with extra-virgin olive oil.

  

4. Mix the herbs and spices together, except for the bay leaves and rosemary, and roll the cheese in this to coat all surfaces.

5.  Place a layer of bay leaves and rosemary sprigs together on a baking sheet (in the shape of the cheese). Sit the cheese on the leaves and cover with aluminium foil.

6. Bake for 20 mins and then remove the foil. Continue baking for another 30 mins or until lightly browned.

7. Cut into bite-sized pieces when cool.

 

Oven-dried tomatoes

These are richly flavoured and very versatile for enhancing a range of dishes. I always have some, completely submerged in extra-virgin olive oil and stored in a lidded, glass container in the fridge. In this way they will last several weeks.

- small to medium sized tomatoes, sliced in halves lengthways

- sprigs of fresh thyme chopped

- extra-virgin olive oil

- cracked black pepper

-    sea salt flakes

1.     Pre-heat the oven to 110C/230F

2.  Scoop out the seeds of the tomato halves and place, cup side up, on a baking tray.

3.  Drizzle each cup with extra-virgin olive oil.

4.  Sprinkle each cup with pepper, salt and thyme.

5.  Slowly dry in the oven for several hours so that they still retain some moisture.

6.  Cool, and store in extra-virgin olive oil. Refrigerate until required.

Witlof (endive) leaves with goat's curd, roasted capsicum (pepper) and vincotto

Any leaves, with a cup shape, can be used to make these delicious little 'boats'. I have used witlof, but you can also use radicchio, chicory or baby cos lettuce. I've never liked goat's cheese but goat's curd, with its fresh, light tanginess, is a revelation. A crisp, slightly bitter leaf, the creamy curd, the sweet savouriness of roasted capsicum (pepper), a drizzle of 'sweet and sour' vincotto (this is a delicious reduction of the crushed fruit and skins of unfermented dark grapes) and a sprinkle of chopped chives is a taste treat. If you can't find vincotto, a reduction of balsamic vinegar with a pinch of sugar can be substituted.

- witlof/endive or other 'boat shaped' leaves, washed and dried

- goat's curd

- 1 red capsicum (pepper), halved and seeds and stem removed

- vincotto for drizzling

- fresh chives, chopped

- extra-virgin olive oils 

    - cracked black pepper

1.    Roast or grill the capsicum (pepper) halves until the skin is completely blackened. Peel off the skin when cool. Pat the flesh dry with paper towel and then cut into strips. Drizzle with a little olive oil and sprinkle with cracked black pepper. Set aside.

2.  Scoop a spoonful of goat's curd into each leaf boat. Use the back of the spoon to smooth it along the length of the leaf.

3.  Place one or two strips of roasted capsicum on the curd. Sprinkle with chives, cracked black pepper and a drizzle of vincotto.

Smoked trout, with crème fraîche, lemon and parsley on sourdough bread

This is hot-smoked trout that I buy whole with its skin on. The flesh is soft and luscious. It's a great standby for a quick and easy snack with drinks, and pairs wonderfully with crème fraîche, good crusty bread, lemon, and herbs such as watercress or parsley. Smoked salmon could easily be substituted.

- hot-smoked trout, broken into pieces 

- crème fraîche

- sourdough baguette, sliced

- freshly grated lemon rind

- sliced flat-leaf parsley or watercress

- cracked black pepper

- extra-virgin olive oil

  

1. Place a generous helping of smoked trout on each slice of bread.

2. Spoon creme fraiche over the trout

3. Grate lemon rind over the crème fraîche.

4. Sprinkle over parsley or watercress

5. Finish with a drizzle of extra-virgin olive oil and cracked black pepper.

These hors d'oeuvres go particularly well with a nicely chilled white wine that has a dry finish, such as a Pinot Gris or a Semillon Sauvignon Blanc.