stuck a bony finger into Tommy's lobster sauce and took a taste. "Nice flavor," he said. Tommy, standing next to him at the range, arms crossed across his chest, explained. "It's all about reduction. You gotta reduce, reduce, reduce. And you don't let the brandy flame the shells. That's the mistake everybody makes. You burn the little hairs the lobster got on his tail there, you do that . . . you get a burnt taste. And you roast the garlic first, before you use it." "You gonna put some butter?" Charlie wanted to know. "At the end I put the butter," said Tommy. "Right at the end. That's called monter au beurre you wanta know." "The fish... can I flip'em?" "Yeah, go for it." Charlie turned down the flame under the copper sautoir next to the saucepan and drained the extra oil into a coffee can by the edge of the range, holding three grouper fillets in place with a spatula. He confidently turned the fillets over, skin-side down now, and put the whole pan into the oven. "What's that gotta go, like, five, six minutes?" he said, wiping his hands on his apron.
