– Okay, everything we need for our escape is right here in the Monte Cristo sandwich. I’ll remove it from the baggie and just lightly touch the grease-soaked bread to the sheets. – Wow. And gross. – Next, we use the jam. (screaming) – Wow, that’s strong jam. – [Babish] Hey, what’s up guys? Welcome back to "Binging with Babish" where this week we’re taking a look at the Monte Cristo sandwich from "American Dad." The classic iteration of which beginning with two slices of white bread, one side smeared with equal parts mayo and mustard, the other with curiously strong raspberry jam, and both shingled with Swiss-style cheese. Then the figurative meat of our sandwich is actual meat, ham and turkey folded in half and staggered so as to provide a stable, yet varied sandwich yield foundation. This would probably be a lovely snack in and of itself, but we’re only now just getting started as we make a quick custard out of equal parts egg and milk, and dipping the sandwich in both sides as if it were common French toast. Once both slices have been sufficiently saturated, we’re headed over to the stove top where we’ve got a couple tablespoons of unsalted butter foaming in a non-stick pan. Here, it’s gonna fry two to three minutes on each side until it’s a lacy, toasty golden brown. Once the second side is nearly done frying, I like to turn down the heat and cover up the works, gently cooking for an additional two to three minutes to make sure the sandwich is heated through and the cheese is melted. And with that, we’re ready to serve. Shuffle it onto a plate, saw the dang thing in half, and sprinkle it generously with powdered sugar. Supplementing with additional raspberry jam if you feel so inclined. Now, before I dig in this thing, I want to do one experiment to see if one of Stan Smith’s spy tricks actually works. Using powdered sugar to detect a laser security grid. As a surrogate, I have this cat shaped cat’s toy across whose beam I’m gonna puff the sugar. And as you can see, it does sort of work. I can’t say it’d be much use in a clandestine escape, but I do like it when cartoon things work in real life. But what about the sandwich and well, it’s a Monte Cristo. It’s equal parts delicious and gross if you can’t tell from the powdered sugar cascading down from my beard. So how do we make ourselves an amped up version? And my first thought was to make a Monte Cristo Pate En Croute I’ve got 12 ounces of fatty pork shoulder, which I’m gonna cut into grind-appropriate 1/2-inch cubes. I’ve also got half a pound of high quality panchetta that I’m gonna cut into similarly sized cubes along with a half pound of turkey’s breast. These, however, are going to remain whole becoming the hunks of meat and fat so often adorning the interior of a pate en croute, which is a word that I like to say. Last bit of prep over on the stove top. We’re melting one tablespoon of butter until foamy and gently sauteing half a small chopped shallot until softened, about three minutes. Then in the last 30 seconds of cooking were crushing one clove of garlic in there and allowing it to cook just until fragrant. Then we’re deglazing the pan with two tablespoons of white wine, allowing that to cook for one minute until reduced, and allowing the mixture to cool completely before assembling our pate. Into a large bowl, I am grinding the aforementioned fatty pork and to it I am adding one tablespoon of finely minced fresh sage, two teaspoons of finely minced fresh thyme. And then we’re making a spice mixture of nine grams kosher salt, four grams sugar, one gram freshly ground black pepper, half a gram of white pepper, and 2.25 grams of pink curing salt. Tiny whisk to combined and sprinkle evenly over the meat. Then we’re adding cubed turkey breast and panchetta to the mix, along with our cooled shallot, butter, garlic, wine mixture and, to class up the joint, one ounce each Madeira and Cognac. Mixing everything together by hand until all the spices and meat chunks are distributed evenly throughout. Place this into a more size and fridge-appropriate bowl, press plastic wrap directly down onto the surface of the meat, wrap tightly, and refrigerate for 24 hours. Next up, we’re making hot water crust pastry. I’m adding one tablespoon of kosher salt to one kilogram of all-purpose flour. Then over on the stove top in a small sauce pan, I’m combining 250 grams of lard with 500 grams of water. Bringing this mixture to a bare simmer until all lard is melted. Letting it cool off ever so slightly before dumping it into the flour mixture. Immediately starting to mix with a wooden spoon until a shaggy dough forms and it becomes cool enough to handle with your delicate human fingers. Turn it out onto a countertop and knead for four to five minutes until the dough comes together. It’s smooth, bouncy, supple, and workable. But then we’re gonna place this in a bowl, cover tightly with plastic wrap, and let it rest at room temperature for 20 minutes. Then we’re retrieving the alien blob, cutting off about a third of it and setting it aside wrapped in plastic wrap. The remainder of which we’re gonna roll out to a rectangle about 14 inches long, 10 1/2 inches wide, and 1/4 inch thick, more or less. Then we’re grabbing our very favorite 8 1/2 inch by 4 1/2 inch loaf pan, generously greasing it with non-stick spray, and then gently tucking the dough inside. Taking care to lift and drop the dough into the pan rather than press and stretch the same way you would a pie crust. Then we’re trimming off everything but a one-inch border around the outside. Packing to the brim with our pate mixture, making sure to press down evenly and thoroughly. Then rolling out the reserve dough to a 1/4-inch thick rectangle just slightly larger than our loaf pen. Brush down the edges with beaten egg, Carefully lay the lid over top, and trim off the edges down to the side of the pan. Crimping, pressing, and sealing it as you go along. Then it’s time to hit our pastry with some decorative fluting, pinching it up and in between two fingers, again, like you would a pie dough, but in a bigger, bolder kind of way. Last but not least, give it a thorough brushing down with the rest of your beaten egg. Then you can option optionally, decoratively score the top with the back of a paring knife. Going for a classic crosshatch pattern. And then we have to install some vents. In this case, two large round pastry tips. First, I’m gonna press and twist them in so I can cut out two holes into which they can eventually reside. What? Secure the pastry tips in the holes and then place this guy in a preheated 375 degree Fahrenheit oven with a pizza stone. Baking for 15 minutes before reducing the temperature to 325 degrees Fahrenheit and continuing to bake for 45 to 60 minutes until the juices are just starting to spill over and the thickest part of the meat registers at 165 degrees Fahrenheit. Allow this guy to cool the room temperature for a couple hours before refrigerating overnight. Now we’re gonna make a cheese foam, or espuma. Combining a teaspoon of kosher salt, half teaspoon freshly ground black pepper, and an eighth teaspoon of xanthan gum. Then over on the stove top, I’ve got 120 milliliters of heavy cream that I’m bringing to a bare simmer. Killing the heat, adding 200 grams of Gruyere cheese, covering and letting steep for about 10 minutes. Then we’re dumping that into a blender with our xanthan gum mixture, blitzing for about 30 seconds or until completely smooth, and placing into an iSi whip, which we’re gonna charge with two nitrous oxide canisters before shaking gently and refrigerating overnight. The next day, AKA day three, we’re making a raspberry aspic. First, soaking seven sheets of gold gelatin in a bowl of ice cold water for five to 10 minutes or until bloomed. Then over on the stove top, we’re combining 400 grams of water with 50 grams of raspberry jam. Bringing that to a bare simmer, killing the heat, and bringing over our gelatin sheets. From which we’re gonna squeeze all the excess water before separating and gently laying into our raspberry mixture stuff. Tiny whisking to make sure that they’re completely dissolved. Next up, grab your chilled pate en croute, clear any blockages from the vents, and use them as funnels into which you can pour your raspberry aspic. Shaking and tapping the pastry a little bit to make sure that it’s evenly filled. Once you have that as filled to the brim as possible. This guy’s headed back into the fridge again for two to four hours until the aspic is set. And now later in the week that you started, the pate en croute is finally ready to slice and serve. As you can see, we got a nice brown bottom from baking on the pizza stone. So let’s slice this guy open and take a look at that cross-section. Classy. Hack yourself off a hunk and we’re gonna plate it up with a quenelle of grain mustard, maybe some dill pickle chips if you can’t find your cornichons, and of course, a dollop of our Gruyere espuma. So let’s see how it tastes. I’m gonna try to fix myself a bite with a little bit of everything on it, and let’s see if this classic, French, three and a half day process has paid off. And the answer is not really. It’s certainly good, but it’s definitely no better than just a normal Monte Cristo. And it’s made to taste all the worst from all the extra effort. So I’m gonna keep hack away at this thing gonna get my calories worth out of it while I try to come up with a way to amp up the Monte Cristo without adding to its timestamp. And then it hit me like a ton of pate en croute, Monte Cristo Patty Melt with a nice fatty turkey burger in place of the normal lunch meat. So I’ve got some ground dark meat turkey here that I’m gonna form into an oblong patty the same size and shape as my bread. Over on the stove top, I’m slowly sauteing a thinly sliced onion in a couple tablespoons of vegetable oil over very low heat over the course of about 30 minutes. Which I’m going to mix directly with my raspberry jam making a condiment that might only be good on this particular sandwich and is pretty good on its own, or maybe I’m just hungry. Then back in the non-stick, we’re frying up our turkey burger in a little bit of oil. Flipping once browned on the first side and when it’s nearly cooked through, we’re gonna cover it with cheese. First, a couple slices of Swiss and then some grated Gruyere. Adding a squirt of water to the pan and covering it, allowing the patty to finish cooking through and the cheese to melt. Now back sandwich side, I’ve got two slices of rye sourdough, a dry, firm bread that’s gonna take well to custard-ry. I’m spreading the mustard-mayo on one side and our jammy onion jam on the other. Shingling some maple ham on one side and laying down our turkey on the other. Now a major advantage to this sandwich is the already hot interior, which, once is soaked on both sides in custard, simply has to be fried on both sides in butter without having to worry whether the sandwich is heated through and the cheese is melted. Once it’s lacy brown and looking good enough to eat, let’s first chop things in half and take a look at that cross-section. Definitely not a bad looking Monte Cristo or Patty Melt. Monte Melt. But how’s it taste? And I’m definitely not skipping the powdered sugar nor extra jam on this one. And there you have it. A slightly amped up Monte Cristo, which this time I’m gonna eat with a knife and fork like a human being. Oh, wait a second, Andy. Pose for the thumbnail. Hide the knife. Little higher, little higher. Perfect. And this really takes the Monte Cristo cake for me. It’s hot and melty throughout. The onion jam is delicious and savory and sweet. And the bread has a little bit more structure and flavor than the factory standard white stuff. Is it gonna bust you out of a buffet-style prison? No, but it’s a huge, melty, meaty brunch time blast that can detect lasers. Isn’t that enough? (upbeat music)

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