Butter is, in my humble opinion, one of the best foods. It has an ideal simplicity about it and makes nearly anything more delicious. It has remarkable versatility in baking, sautéing, sauce-making, and being poured or spread over our favourite carbs. It’s one of cuisine’s most perfect creations.
But, of course, humans have a tendency to want to improve on almost everything and butter has not escaped this impulse. Some have tried to improve on its healthfulness by, well, making something out of vegetable oil that isn’t really the same thing at all. But others (the clever ones) improved on butter by adding to it rather than trying to take things away. It is these folks we must thank for the invention of the beurres composés, or compound butters.
Compound or composed butters are almost the definition of gilding the lily; adding flavour and colour to the near-perfection that is butter on its own. And truth be told, there aren’t too many places where a compound butter couldn’t easily be replaced with a more natural (I won’t say plain) version, but we aren’t in the business of limiting our imaginations, are we? There are quite literally thousands, if not more, possible flavours you can combine with your butter to make it a next-level addition to your dish. They can be sweet or savoury, can contain herbs or spices (or both), and fruit, vegetable, seafood, and even meat are not off limits. If you can squish, pour, or chop it, it can go into butter.
There are, however, a few rules that you must follow. The rules in no way suggest a recipe, but rather inform your technique so you can get the results you want with the ingredients of your choice.
Start with room temperature butter. Your butter must be soft, but not melted. The French term for this is beurre pommade, butter at a softly spreadable room temperature. A microwave or other heat source is of no use to you here: heat will always be somewhat uneven and cause the butter to split and even a trip to the fridge can’t put it back together again. You can patiently wait for cold butter to soften to the correct temperature, but if you’re in a rush I suggest spreading your chunky cold butter up the sides of your bowl - it creates more surface area and brings things to the right texture in a hurry.
Start with room temperature ingredients. It does you little good to have room temperature butter and then try to mix in fridge-cold mustard or lemon juice (or anything else) - it’s going to seize. It’s going to make a lumpy mess that will eventually soften, but why do it in the first place? Adding hot ingredients? Don’t do that - you know what’s going to happen. Have everything at room temperature and all will cooperate.
Reduce watery liquids. You can add almost anything you want to butter, even liquids. You might think you can’t combine liquid and fat, but recall that butter is part water (you remember when we clarified butter, right?) and your liquid ingredients will combine with it if you don’t add too much. Some of the classic beurres composés like beurre Colbert (with demi-glace), beurre Marchand de Vin (with red wine) and beurre Bercy (with white wine) are made this way, but all call for using a reduced version of your liquid. And pro-level tip: if you’re using a dark liquid be sure to wear an apron or clothes you don’t care about. I ruined a white chef’s jacket in my basic level course trying to whisk reduced red wine into butter in a hurry. No amount of stain remover can get that sort of splatter cleaned up.
Don’t be cheap with flavour. Fat has a strong influence on how we perceive the taste of food by its effects on the viscosity, mouthfeel, and the satisfaction it brings. But it can also reduce our perception of some tastes. So be generous with your flavourings, particularly the more delicate ones like herbs. If you overdo it you can always add more butter to balance it out.
But really, the sky is the limit when it comes to combinations and how to use them. Some suggestions:
Cinnamon, brown sugar, and vanilla for toast or biscuits.
Classic beurre Maître d'Hôtel with lemon juice, parsley, salt and pepper for steaks, fish, or vegetables.
Green onion and chili flakes to garnish a roasted vegetable soup
Ginger, miso paste and citrus zest and juice for chicken
Honey and lavender flowers for white chocolate scones
Chipotle peppers in adobo with cilantro for roasted potatoes
Seville orange marmalade and vanilla for warm croissants
Sundried tomato (with the oil they are packed in) with fresh oregano and parsley for pasta
But the butter I’m going demonstrate is one of my favourites and another of those things that I don’t make often enough.
Café de Paris butter was created in a restaurant of the same name in 1940s Geneva, Switzerland. It was traditionally made as a butter sauce (think hollandaise or Béarnaise), but it is more commonly found today served in rounds of compound butter. There are countless variations on the original secret recipe but all include lemon, Dijon mustard, and anchovies. Some include a small amount of curry powder and/or paprika, and some use shallots and others garlic. No matter how you make it packs some serious flavour with no one element dominating. And don’t be a crybaby about the anchovies - it won’t taste fishy!
Make some Café de Paris butter and keep it in your freezer because it goes with steaks, poultry, seafood, and vegetables. Let me walk you through it.
The Gear:
Medium bowl
Sturdy spatula
Knife
Cutting board
Microplane grater
Plastic wrap
The Ingredients (all at room temperature):
Softened butter (salted or unsalted)
Dijon mustard
Juice and zest of half a lemon
Finely chopped clove of fresh garlic
Worcestershire sauce
Finely chopped parsley
Chopped anchovies or anchovy paste
Salt and pepper
The Technique:
Soften your butter if necessary. It should be easy to spread with a spatula but not melted.
Add your ingredients. The exact amounts are to taste, but don’t go too heavy on all three of Worcestershire, anchovies, and salt - they all add salt (duh!) and are easy to overdo.
Beat the ingredients into the butter to combine evenly. The liquids will look like they are refusing to combine, but be persistent. Use some elbow grease.
Once your butter is fully combined give it a quick taste. It should be strong but not unpleasantly so. Add a bit more butter if you’ve overdone it or adjust flavours as necessary.
Pop the bowl in the fridge for about 10 minutes. This makes it easier to shape into a log.
Place a piece of plastic wrap on the counter and scrape your butter into a heap about one third to half of the way from the bottom.
Fold the bottom end up over the butter and use your hands to form a log. Squeeze out any air bubbles or pockets.
Roll up the plastic wrap and twist the ends tightly.
Keeping the ends pinched tightly and pushing slightly inward, roll the log up and down on the counter to shape.
Fold in the ends and place butter in the fridge or freezer until solid and sliceable.
A few slices of compound butter can add some serious interest to almost any meal. But don’t feel that the log shape is your only option. Compound butter can be packed into a ramekin or mold, piped from a piping bag, or chilled and shaved into sexy curls. Flavourful and stylish too!
Making great food isn’t always about doing something complicated - it’s as much about knowing the options you have with the the things around you. You can serve butter with other garnishes on the side and it will be fine, but a little technique gives you another vehicle for your creativity, so have some fun and enjoy some big flavours!
Wow, this sounds so good. Thank you! I think I know what I’m doing for the next fish night. In my head, it feels a bit like making a vinaigrette. So far, my favorite compound butter is Ras el hanout, honey, and orange zest that I make for sweet potatoes. Dreamy.