My job is beginning to be hard work. I am exhausted. And tomorrow I have to go bowling. Seriously, that's my assignment tomorrow. I even have a bowling shirt.
I don't have it in me to be clever. We had pizza tonight, not delivery but from the deli case, fresh, with some extra veggies and cheese thrown on. I worked my ass off today and I've come home tired.
Here's some pasta. I love pasta, but I'm too tired to cook it tonight; I'll just write about it instead.
Fresh Pasta with Favas, Tomatoes and Sausage
2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
1/2 cup finely chopped onion
2 large garlic cloves, coarsely chopped
1/8 teaspoon dried crushed red pepper
1/2 pound Italian sausages, casings removed
1/4 cup dry white wine
1 3/4 cups chopped plum tomatoes
1 cup shelled fresh fava beans (from about 1 pound), blanched 3 minutes then peeled, or double-peeled frozen, thawed
3/4 pound fresh pasta sheets, cut as desired, or dried egg fettuccine
2 tablespoons finely grated Pecorino Romano cheese plus additional for passing
Preparation
Heat oil in large saucepan over medium heat. Add next 3 ingredients. Sauté until onion is translucent, about 6 minutes. Add sausages; break up with fork. Sauté until brown, about 3 minutes. Add wine; simmer 1 minute, scraping up browned bits. Add tomatoes and fava beans. Sauté until tomatoes soften, about 5 minutes. Season sauce with salt and pepper.
Meanwhile, cook pasta in large pot of boiling salted water until tender but still firm to bite. Drain, reserving 1/2 cup pasta cooking liquid. Return pasta to same pot.
Add sauce to pasta. Toss over medium heat until sauce coats pasta, adding reserved cooking liquid as needed if dry, about 2 minutes. Mix in 2 tablespoons cheese. Transfer pasta to bowl.
Serve, passing additional cheese.
From Bon Appetit: "More info: In this dish, Alex uses maltagliati (badly cut) pasta. To make it, cut fresh pasta sheets into trapezoids. Don't worry about making each piece exactly the same size or shape. The pasta should have an irregular look."
Showing posts with label Pork. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Pork. Show all posts
Tuesday, June 3, 2008
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
I keep seeing this recipe, and I am dying to try it, because I love the name and because it sounds wonderful. I think just about every country in the world has some version of this recipe. My mother in law makes cabbage stuffed with ground beef or venison, rice, and tomatoes, then braised in a ginger-garlic-tomato sauce. It's classic Polish food.
This is an Asian variation on that theme. I have seen Rachel Ray make it, I have seen recipes on just about every food website I've ever seen for it, and they were talking about it on The Splendid Table on National Public Radio this weekend. I'm sure there are simpler versions of this, and I'm not sure what you would use for substitutions for some of the more unusual ingredients, but I have great faith in my readers.
My mother is still here, by the way, which is why I am so brief.
Lion's Head
1 large head (about 1-1/2 pounds) napa cabbage
4 ounces bean-thread (cellophane) noodles
1 pound lean ground pork
1/4 cup (about 4 ounces) drained and finely minced canned water chestnuts
1 tablespoon minced green onions, white part only
1 tablespoon peeled, minced fresh ginger
3 teaspoons kosher salt
3 tablespoons premium soy sauce
1 tablespoon Shaoxing wine
1/2 teaspoon freshly ground white pepper
Peanut or vegetable oil, for frying
1-1/2 cups chicken broth
1/2 cup water
1. Trim off the root end of the cabbage head and reserve. Quarter the leaves lengthwise and then cut them again crosswise into thirds. Set aside.
2. To prepare the noodles, pour hot water over the bean-thread noodles in a bowl, and let them soak until they are soft, about 15 minutes. Keep the noodles in the water until ready to use, as they tend to dry out quickly.
3. To form the meatballs, combine the pork, water chestnuts, green onions, ginger, 2 teaspoons of the salt, 1 tablespoon of the soy sauce, wine, and white pepper in a bowl. Using your hands, gently mix all of the ingredients together until well combined. Don't overmix or the pork will become gummy. Lightly oil a rimmed baking sheet. Using a 1/2-cup measure, loosely form the pork into 4-ounce balls and place them on the prepared baking sheet. Set aside.
4. Line a plate with paper towels and have it ready near the cooktop. Heat a large nonstick skillet over high heat until a bead of water dances on the surface and then evaporates. Cover the bottom of the skillet with a thin film of the oil and swirl to coat. Arrange the meatballs in a single layer in the bottom of the pan, but do not overcrowd them (depending on the size of your pan, you might need to cook the meatballs in several batches). Decrease the heat to medium and cook the meatballs, turning with tongs to cook evenly, until all sides are well browned, about 6 minutes. Transfer the meatballs to the prepared plate. Repeat this process for as many batches as needed.
5. Put the reserved root ends of the cabbage in the bottom of a large saucepan. Gently place the meatballs on top and pour over the chicken broth and the 1/2 cup of water. Bring the pot to a boil over high heat, decrease the heat to medium-low, and simmer the mixture, uncovered, until it has cooked down a bit, about 5 minutes. Add the cut-up cabbage leaves and the remaining 1 teaspoon of salt. Cover the pot with a tight-fitting lid and continue to simmer until the meatballs are cooked thorough and the cabbage is tender, about 10 minutes more.
6. Drain the noodles, add to the saucepan with the remaining 2 tablespoons of soy sauce, and stir to combine well. Remove the pan from the heat.
7. To serve, arrange the meatballs on top of the cabbage and noodles on a platter. Serve immediately.
This is an Asian variation on that theme. I have seen Rachel Ray make it, I have seen recipes on just about every food website I've ever seen for it, and they were talking about it on The Splendid Table on National Public Radio this weekend. I'm sure there are simpler versions of this, and I'm not sure what you would use for substitutions for some of the more unusual ingredients, but I have great faith in my readers.
My mother is still here, by the way, which is why I am so brief.
Lion's Head
1 large head (about 1-1/2 pounds) napa cabbage
4 ounces bean-thread (cellophane) noodles
1 pound lean ground pork
1/4 cup (about 4 ounces) drained and finely minced canned water chestnuts
1 tablespoon minced green onions, white part only
1 tablespoon peeled, minced fresh ginger
3 teaspoons kosher salt
3 tablespoons premium soy sauce
1 tablespoon Shaoxing wine
1/2 teaspoon freshly ground white pepper
Peanut or vegetable oil, for frying
1-1/2 cups chicken broth
1/2 cup water
1. Trim off the root end of the cabbage head and reserve. Quarter the leaves lengthwise and then cut them again crosswise into thirds. Set aside.
2. To prepare the noodles, pour hot water over the bean-thread noodles in a bowl, and let them soak until they are soft, about 15 minutes. Keep the noodles in the water until ready to use, as they tend to dry out quickly.
3. To form the meatballs, combine the pork, water chestnuts, green onions, ginger, 2 teaspoons of the salt, 1 tablespoon of the soy sauce, wine, and white pepper in a bowl. Using your hands, gently mix all of the ingredients together until well combined. Don't overmix or the pork will become gummy. Lightly oil a rimmed baking sheet. Using a 1/2-cup measure, loosely form the pork into 4-ounce balls and place them on the prepared baking sheet. Set aside.
4. Line a plate with paper towels and have it ready near the cooktop. Heat a large nonstick skillet over high heat until a bead of water dances on the surface and then evaporates. Cover the bottom of the skillet with a thin film of the oil and swirl to coat. Arrange the meatballs in a single layer in the bottom of the pan, but do not overcrowd them (depending on the size of your pan, you might need to cook the meatballs in several batches). Decrease the heat to medium and cook the meatballs, turning with tongs to cook evenly, until all sides are well browned, about 6 minutes. Transfer the meatballs to the prepared plate. Repeat this process for as many batches as needed.
5. Put the reserved root ends of the cabbage in the bottom of a large saucepan. Gently place the meatballs on top and pour over the chicken broth and the 1/2 cup of water. Bring the pot to a boil over high heat, decrease the heat to medium-low, and simmer the mixture, uncovered, until it has cooked down a bit, about 5 minutes. Add the cut-up cabbage leaves and the remaining 1 teaspoon of salt. Cover the pot with a tight-fitting lid and continue to simmer until the meatballs are cooked thorough and the cabbage is tender, about 10 minutes more.
6. Drain the noodles, add to the saucepan with the remaining 2 tablespoons of soy sauce, and stir to combine well. Remove the pan from the heat.
7. To serve, arrange the meatballs on top of the cabbage and noodles on a platter. Serve immediately.
Monday, May 12, 2008
May 12: BLT Salad
If I had any sense at all, it might embarass me how much I like bacon. Bacon should be a guilty pleasure, eaten in secret, and not talked about.
But I am not someone who feels guilty about pleasure. I never have been. Guilt is not in my nature. If I'm likely to feel bad about it later, I probably won't do it. And I seldom eat anything I feel bad about later. I am an unabashed carnivore. I have gained weight over the years, mostly due to my intensely lazy nature and my feeling that, because everything else in my life is going so well, I just don't feel that need for the element of control that comes from depriving myself of things just to deprive myself. I still practice moderation almost all the time, because if I didn't, I would practice bingeing instead.
You would never have known it based on the weather today, when it barely got out of the 40's here, but it is almost summer. I hate being too hot, and much warmer than about 78 degrees is too hot for me. You wouldn't think summer would be my favorite thing, but I like baseball and after three seasons of heavy, long-simmered rich stews and braises, I love summer food.
Is there anything as great as a BLT? Well, yeah, lots of things, but I'm talking about a real, mid-summer's night dream of a sandwich, with great bread and thick-sliced bacon and serious juicy summer tomatoes. By the time you're down to the end of the sandwich, the juice has soaked into the bread, making a sort of bread-slush with tomatoes and mayonnaise (I seem to be talking a lot about mayonnaise today), with the pieces sliding apart and everything falling apart in your hands...wait. Hold on, that part's not so great.
Yeah, the one drawback to a BLT, the mess that you're left with. Some people (like my mother) are okay with it. Me, not so much. I like my food like I like my husband: orderly, put-together, consistent, and...wait, that's not my husband. Who is that guy?
Anyway, the BLT. There's an answer. It's a good answer and as much as celebrity chefs sort of turn me off (*cough* Rachael Ray *cough*) Alton Brown came up with this one. It's a panzanilla, a bread salad that he gave some clever name that doesn't bear repeating. I love bread salad of all varieties, including a panzanilla with oil-cured olives and spinach and feta which I will try to remember to tell you about some other day.
We were at the farmer's market at Eastern Market in D.C. this weekend, and the tomatoes are starting to taste good again--not those awful pink things with the texture and consistency of a baseball. They're not the big juicy beefsteaks that you'll find in August, the ones that are almost erotic in their ripeness, the ones that are still warm from growing on the vine in the sun when you slice into them, but they'll do. Make this salad now, and then come back to it in July or August and make it again.
If you're like me and cook by the seat of your pants, or you just forgot to set the bread out, you can dry the bread in a very low (like 150 degrees low) for 20 or 30 minutes. I have half a loaf of homemade rustic bread that I would probably use for this--just something serious and sturdy that you can cut into 1-inch cubes. Don't go and try to use Wonderbread for this, or you get what you deserve. I assure you that it's as much about the bread as it is about anything else, and you know me--for me it's always about the bacon.
And the mint? In the dressing? Ummm, no thanks. Add it if you like, but mint and bacon sounds like Doritos and ice cream to me.
BLT Salad
4 cups French bread cut into 1-inch cubes and dried overnight
6 slices bacon, cooked, chopped, drippings reserved
2 cups halved grape tomatoes
2 tablespoons oil, for searing
2 cups halved yellow pear tomatoes or roughly chopped heirloom tomatoes
2 cups chopped romaine lettuce
Vinaigrette:
1/4 cup red wine vinegar
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon pepper
3 tablespoons olive oil
1 tablespoon chiffonade mint
1 tablespoon chiffonade basil
Toss bread cubes in the bacon drippings. Sear the halved grape tomatoes in 2 tablespoons of oil, cut side down, until caramelized about 5 minutes, set aside. Combine red wine vinegar, salt and pepper in a bowl, slowly whisk in olive oil in a thin stream until emulsified. Combine all tomatoes, bread, bacon, and lettuce and dress with vinaigrette, toss well, garnish with mint and basil and serve.
But I am not someone who feels guilty about pleasure. I never have been. Guilt is not in my nature. If I'm likely to feel bad about it later, I probably won't do it. And I seldom eat anything I feel bad about later. I am an unabashed carnivore. I have gained weight over the years, mostly due to my intensely lazy nature and my feeling that, because everything else in my life is going so well, I just don't feel that need for the element of control that comes from depriving myself of things just to deprive myself. I still practice moderation almost all the time, because if I didn't, I would practice bingeing instead.
You would never have known it based on the weather today, when it barely got out of the 40's here, but it is almost summer. I hate being too hot, and much warmer than about 78 degrees is too hot for me. You wouldn't think summer would be my favorite thing, but I like baseball and after three seasons of heavy, long-simmered rich stews and braises, I love summer food.
Is there anything as great as a BLT? Well, yeah, lots of things, but I'm talking about a real, mid-summer's night dream of a sandwich, with great bread and thick-sliced bacon and serious juicy summer tomatoes. By the time you're down to the end of the sandwich, the juice has soaked into the bread, making a sort of bread-slush with tomatoes and mayonnaise (I seem to be talking a lot about mayonnaise today), with the pieces sliding apart and everything falling apart in your hands...wait. Hold on, that part's not so great.
Yeah, the one drawback to a BLT, the mess that you're left with. Some people (like my mother) are okay with it. Me, not so much. I like my food like I like my husband: orderly, put-together, consistent, and...wait, that's not my husband. Who is that guy?
Anyway, the BLT. There's an answer. It's a good answer and as much as celebrity chefs sort of turn me off (*cough* Rachael Ray *cough*) Alton Brown came up with this one. It's a panzanilla, a bread salad that he gave some clever name that doesn't bear repeating. I love bread salad of all varieties, including a panzanilla with oil-cured olives and spinach and feta which I will try to remember to tell you about some other day.
We were at the farmer's market at Eastern Market in D.C. this weekend, and the tomatoes are starting to taste good again--not those awful pink things with the texture and consistency of a baseball. They're not the big juicy beefsteaks that you'll find in August, the ones that are almost erotic in their ripeness, the ones that are still warm from growing on the vine in the sun when you slice into them, but they'll do. Make this salad now, and then come back to it in July or August and make it again.
If you're like me and cook by the seat of your pants, or you just forgot to set the bread out, you can dry the bread in a very low (like 150 degrees low) for 20 or 30 minutes. I have half a loaf of homemade rustic bread that I would probably use for this--just something serious and sturdy that you can cut into 1-inch cubes. Don't go and try to use Wonderbread for this, or you get what you deserve. I assure you that it's as much about the bread as it is about anything else, and you know me--for me it's always about the bacon.
And the mint? In the dressing? Ummm, no thanks. Add it if you like, but mint and bacon sounds like Doritos and ice cream to me.
BLT Salad
4 cups French bread cut into 1-inch cubes and dried overnight
6 slices bacon, cooked, chopped, drippings reserved
2 cups halved grape tomatoes
2 tablespoons oil, for searing
2 cups halved yellow pear tomatoes or roughly chopped heirloom tomatoes
2 cups chopped romaine lettuce
Vinaigrette:
1/4 cup red wine vinegar
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon pepper
3 tablespoons olive oil
1 tablespoon chiffonade mint
1 tablespoon chiffonade basil
Toss bread cubes in the bacon drippings. Sear the halved grape tomatoes in 2 tablespoons of oil, cut side down, until caramelized about 5 minutes, set aside. Combine red wine vinegar, salt and pepper in a bowl, slowly whisk in olive oil in a thin stream until emulsified. Combine all tomatoes, bread, bacon, and lettuce and dress with vinaigrette, toss well, garnish with mint and basil and serve.
Monday, May 5, 2008
May 5: Pork Chops with Grainy Mustard and Raisin Suace
Well, this is an interesting little something...Fine Cooking's e-newsletter has an article in it about creating your own quick recipes using quick cooking "centers" (like meat, fish, pasta, or a grain), high-heat cooking methods, flavorful add-ons, and pantry staples. Here is their list of pantry staples. They've got some interesting add-ons (like two mustards) and also their pantry lacks a few things that I really can't do without (like melting cheese.)
In the pantry: anchovies
artichoke hearts (canned or frozen)
beans (canned)
bouillon cubes
broth or stock
chipotles (canned in adobo sauce)
couscous
dried chiles
dried fruits
dried mushrooms
garlic
hoisin sauce
oils: olive, canola, vegetable, peanut, toasted sesame
olives
onions
pasta
potatoes
rice
roasted red peppers
salsa
shallots
soy sauce
spices and dried herbs
sun-dried tomatoes
tomatoes (canned: whole, diced, crushed, sauce, paste)
tuna
vinegars: balsamic, sherry, rice, white and red-wine
wasabi
water chestnuts
In the fridge or freezer:
bacon or pancetta
capers
feta cheese
fresh herbs
ginger
horseradish
lemons
limes
mayonnaise
mustards: Dijon and grainy
Parmigiano-reggiano
pesto
preserves
sour cream
tortillas
vegetables
I had intended to do a Cinco De Mayo recipe today--we had chicken fajitas for dinner tonight, one of my favorite meals ever. But then I found this recipe for pork chops with grainy mustard and raisins, which is a really great pantry staple recipe, and sounds wonderful.
Pork Chops with Grainy Mustard and Raisins
1 1/2 cups chicken stock or broth
1/2 cup dry white wine
1 cup golden raisins
4 tbsp extra virgin olive oil
4 thick cut boneless center-cut pork chops
1 tbsp paprika
Salt and pepper
1 medium yellow onion, chopped
1 tbsp fresh thyme leaves, chopped
3 tbsp grainy Dijon mustard
1/4 cup heavy cream
1/4 cup fresh flat leaf parsley leaves, chopped
Preheat oven to 375.
In a small sauce pot over high heat, combine the chicken stock, wine, and raisins. Bring it to a simmer, then turn off the heat and let it sit.
Heat a large skillet over medium high heat with about 2 tablespoons of the olive oil. Season the cops with paprika, salt and pepper. Place chops in the skillet and sear on both sides, about 2 minutes. Transfer the chops to a rimmed cookie sheet and place in the oven to finish, 10-12 minutes. Remove from oven and let chops rest, tented loosely with foil.
While the chops are in the oven, return their skillet to medium-high heat. Add the remaining 2 tbsp of oil, onions, thyme, salt and pepper to taste, and cook, stirring frequently for about 3 minutes. Add the hot chicken stock, wine, and raisins. Add the mustard and cream. Bring the misture to a simmer and cook until slightly thickened, 4-5 minutes. Finish the sauce with the parsley. Serve the sauce over the rested pork chops.
In the pantry: anchovies
artichoke hearts (canned or frozen)
beans (canned)
bouillon cubes
broth or stock
chipotles (canned in adobo sauce)
couscous
dried chiles
dried fruits
dried mushrooms
garlic
hoisin sauce
oils: olive, canola, vegetable, peanut, toasted sesame
olives
onions
pasta
potatoes
rice
roasted red peppers
salsa
shallots
soy sauce
spices and dried herbs
sun-dried tomatoes
tomatoes (canned: whole, diced, crushed, sauce, paste)
tuna
vinegars: balsamic, sherry, rice, white and red-wine
wasabi
water chestnuts
In the fridge or freezer:
bacon or pancetta
capers
feta cheese
fresh herbs
ginger
horseradish
lemons
limes
mayonnaise
mustards: Dijon and grainy
Parmigiano-reggiano
pesto
preserves
sour cream
tortillas
vegetables
I had intended to do a Cinco De Mayo recipe today--we had chicken fajitas for dinner tonight, one of my favorite meals ever. But then I found this recipe for pork chops with grainy mustard and raisins, which is a really great pantry staple recipe, and sounds wonderful.
Pork Chops with Grainy Mustard and Raisins
1 1/2 cups chicken stock or broth
1/2 cup dry white wine
1 cup golden raisins
4 tbsp extra virgin olive oil
4 thick cut boneless center-cut pork chops
1 tbsp paprika
Salt and pepper
1 medium yellow onion, chopped
1 tbsp fresh thyme leaves, chopped
3 tbsp grainy Dijon mustard
1/4 cup heavy cream
1/4 cup fresh flat leaf parsley leaves, chopped
Preheat oven to 375.
In a small sauce pot over high heat, combine the chicken stock, wine, and raisins. Bring it to a simmer, then turn off the heat and let it sit.
Heat a large skillet over medium high heat with about 2 tablespoons of the olive oil. Season the cops with paprika, salt and pepper. Place chops in the skillet and sear on both sides, about 2 minutes. Transfer the chops to a rimmed cookie sheet and place in the oven to finish, 10-12 minutes. Remove from oven and let chops rest, tented loosely with foil.
While the chops are in the oven, return their skillet to medium-high heat. Add the remaining 2 tbsp of oil, onions, thyme, salt and pepper to taste, and cook, stirring frequently for about 3 minutes. Add the hot chicken stock, wine, and raisins. Add the mustard and cream. Bring the misture to a simmer and cook until slightly thickened, 4-5 minutes. Finish the sauce with the parsley. Serve the sauce over the rested pork chops.
Thursday, May 1, 2008
May 2: The Intermediate Pantry; Sausage-Stuffed Mushrooms
I agree with Merseydoats that the basic pantry needs several different vinegars. I left those off of yesterday's list, so I'm tacking them on to The Intermediate Pantry, but I do think they're important staples. I also forgot colanders--infinitely important for everything from draining pasta to washing fruit. I have three--a fairly fine wire mesh colander, a large plastic one, and another metal one that serves as a basket in my stockpot. These are basics--find a shape and a configuration that works for you and how you cook.
This is the pantry for people who've expanded beyond the basics--people who entertain casually, people who want to eat well every day, people who are up for a challenge in the kitchen. This pantry supports more complicated techniques, more in-depth recipes, more homemade and less prepared foods, and it still respects the two-career household, the idea that a working mom may not take the time on a Tuesday night to make her own mayonnaise.
The recipe is one of my favorites--it is plenty fattening, terrifically decadent, and yet still easy enough to make on that Tuesday night. With some roasted broccoli, a side of tomato-sauced spaghetti, and a big green salad, it's a hugely satisfying meal with lots of protein and lots of fiber, both of which will keep you feeling full for a long time. For Kimberly's baby shower, I made sausage-stuffed mushrooms, just regular white mushrooms, and they were a hit. This is a meal-sized variation on the theme, with some spinach thrown in to draw attention away from all the cheese and pork.
The Pantry
Everything from The Basic Pantry, plus...
Dark brown sugar Cake flour Bread flour Fleur de sel Quick-cooking grits Baking chocolate in Bittersweet and Unsweetened No-bake lasagna noodles Orzo Brown rice Red potatoes Avocados Red onions Shallots Tortilla chips Walnut or grapeseed oil White wine vinegar Red wine vinegar Balsalmic vinegar Bananas
Dried spices: Chipotle and Ancho chile powder, Chinese Five Spice powder, Pink peppercorns
This is the pantry for people who've expanded beyond the basics--people who entertain casually, people who want to eat well every day, people who are up for a challenge in the kitchen. This pantry supports more complicated techniques, more in-depth recipes, more homemade and less prepared foods, and it still respects the two-career household, the idea that a working mom may not take the time on a Tuesday night to make her own mayonnaise.
The recipe is one of my favorites--it is plenty fattening, terrifically decadent, and yet still easy enough to make on that Tuesday night. With some roasted broccoli, a side of tomato-sauced spaghetti, and a big green salad, it's a hugely satisfying meal with lots of protein and lots of fiber, both of which will keep you feeling full for a long time. For Kimberly's baby shower, I made sausage-stuffed mushrooms, just regular white mushrooms, and they were a hit. This is a meal-sized variation on the theme, with some spinach thrown in to draw attention away from all the cheese and pork.
The Pantry
Everything from The Basic Pantry, plus...
The Canned Goods
Everything listed in The Basic Canned Goods, Plus...
- High-quality tuna packed in olive oil
- Refried beans (vegetarian tend to be healthiest, but the Old El Paso brand makes one with chorizo which is just so good.)
- Pinto Beans
- Black beans
- White beans
- Garbanzo beans
The Refrigerator
Everything listed in The Basic Refrigerator, Plus...
- Brick-style cream cheese
- Sour cream
- Swiss cheese
- Part-skim mozzerella
- A wedge of real, aged parmesan cheese
- Full-fat or reduced fat plain yogurt
- Lowfat buttermilk
- Mayonnaise
- Ground turkey
- Large (usually 20-28 per pound) shell-on shrimp
- Bone-in pork loin chops
- Sweet and/or hot Italian sausages
- Seasonal vegetables (peas or asparagus in spring, sweet corn and great tomatoes in summer, although the tomatoes don't belong in the fridge, it's bad for their flavor, butternut squash in the fall, beets in the winter)
- Corn tortillas
- Spring mix
- Spinach
- Portabello or cremini mushrooms
- Breakfast sausage
The Freezer
- Vanilla ice cream
- Frozen waffles (I know, I know, but seriously, they are so easy, and yummy)
- Frozen vegetables: peas, corn, green beans--whatever you like
- Frozen poundcake (for an impromptu dessert)
The Gadgets and Tools
All of the Basic Gadgets and Tools, Plus...
- Microplane grater
- Meat mallet or pounder
- High-quality, sharp 5-6 inch utility knife
- High-quality, sharp, thin, flexible fillet knife
- Knife sharpener
- Slotted spoon
- Sloped-sided, long-handled saucepan or saucier (If you're dying to buy me a present, this would be lovely.)
- 6-8 quart Dutch oven (This one is excellent.)
- 12-inch heavy-bottomed traditional (not non-stick) skillet (This one is surprisingly affordable and extremely durable, although the base could be a little wider.)
- Loaf pan, either metal or glass (I like Pyrex, but some people like metal. The silicone ones are popular too.)
- Large roasting pan with a V-rack (I have this one, it's almost too huge, but I know it'll be more useful to me as I go along.)
- Food processor (At least 8 cups, 11 would be better, with a minimum of a chopping blade, a shredder disk and a chopping disk. I recommend this one).
The Intermediate Pantry Recipe: Sausage-Stuffed Mushrooms
4 large portabello mushrooms, wiped clean, dark gills scraped out with a spoon
1/2 lb. hot or sweet Italian sausages, removed from casings
1/4 lb. fresh spinach
2 cloves garlic, minced or pressed through a garlic press
8 ounces (one package) brick style cream cheese, at room temperature
4 ounces part-skim mozzerella, shredded
2 ounces parmesan, grated
1 cup fresh breadcrumbs
1 tablespoon Italian seasoning
Salt and pepper to taste
Preheat oven to 450. Place mushroom caps upside down on a rimmed baking sheet, and roast at 450 degrees until slightly softened and giving off some of their liquid, 15-20 minutes. Remove from oven, pour off liquid, and let cool.
In a large skillet over medium heat, brown sausage, breaking up with a spoon or a spatula. Stir in garlic and saute until fragrent, 30 seconds or so. Drain off most of the rendered fat, remove sausage from skillet and set aside. Add 1/4 cup water to skillet, raise heat to medium high, and add spinach. Steam spinach until wilted and tender, 3-4 minutes. In a colander set over the sink, drain the spinach, pressing down on the spinach to get out as much moisture as possible.
Move the spinach to the bowl of a food processor fitted with the chopping blade. Process in 1-second pulses, 5-6 of them, until spinach is well-chopped but not pureed.
In a medium bowl, mix together cream cheese, sausage, spinach, bread crumbs, half of the mozzerella and about 3/4 of the parmesan. Stir in the Italian seasoning and taste for salt and pepper.
Divide stuffing among mushroom caps. Top each with the leftover cheese. Bake at 450 degrees until bubbly and browning. Serve.
Saturday, April 26, 2008
April 26: Chile Verde
I am...not sure how I should feel about being unemployed. For one thing, it's not as though we need the money; we don't exactly live high on the hog, our car's paid off and Dan's student loans are not unreasonable. My job has not exactly been my favorite place in the world lately, and the daily dread of what fresh hell awaited me every morning isn't something I'll miss. On the other hand, I was looking forward to getting pregnant again (hell, I've been looking forward to it for a year now) and I liked all the not worrying about money. But to all my real-life friends who've been so sweet and supportive and wonderful, my work people who were shocked and sympathetic on my behalf, and of course my husband and my son, thanks so very much for being everything that you are.
As usual, when I'm feeling a little bruised, I'm craving spicy. This is a widespread, modernized version of a rustic classic Southwestern stew. The easy thing to do here is to use canned chilles, available in the ethnic food aisle of almost any grocery store in the country, but for a real treat, find fresh Anaheim peppers and roast and peel them yourself. This goes great with a sprinkle of cilantro, a few diced tomatoes, and maybe a drizzle of sour cream over the top.
Chili Verde
3 pounds boneless pork, cut into 3/4 inch cubes
1 tablespoon vegetable oil
1 large onion, diced small
6 garlic cloves, coarsely chopped
2 jalapenos, stemmed and coarsely chopped
1 tablespoon oregano (fresh) or 1 teaspoon dried
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
2 cans peeled whole green chiles, drained
2 cups reduced sodium chicken stock
Heat oil in a large pan over medium heat. Add onion, garlic, chile peppers, oregano, and 3/4 teaspoon salt. Cook until the onion is softening, about 5 minutes. Remove the mixture to a large stew pot.
In the same frying pan, add as much pork as will fit in one layer. Sprinkle lightly with salt and pepper and cook over medium-high heat until browned. Remove to the stew pot and repeat with pork until all of it is cooked.
While the pork is browning, cut the canned chiles into 1/4 inch dice. Add the chiles to the pot, along with the stock, and 3 cups water. Bring to a biol. Reduce the heat to the barest simmer, and partially cover the pot. Cook, stirring occasionally, for 2 1/2 hours, or until the pork shreds easily when pressed with a wooden spoon. Serve with garnishes and flour or corn tortillas
As usual, when I'm feeling a little bruised, I'm craving spicy. This is a widespread, modernized version of a rustic classic Southwestern stew. The easy thing to do here is to use canned chilles, available in the ethnic food aisle of almost any grocery store in the country, but for a real treat, find fresh Anaheim peppers and roast and peel them yourself. This goes great with a sprinkle of cilantro, a few diced tomatoes, and maybe a drizzle of sour cream over the top.
Chili Verde
3 pounds boneless pork, cut into 3/4 inch cubes
1 tablespoon vegetable oil
1 large onion, diced small
6 garlic cloves, coarsely chopped
2 jalapenos, stemmed and coarsely chopped
1 tablespoon oregano (fresh) or 1 teaspoon dried
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
2 cans peeled whole green chiles, drained
2 cups reduced sodium chicken stock
Heat oil in a large pan over medium heat. Add onion, garlic, chile peppers, oregano, and 3/4 teaspoon salt. Cook until the onion is softening, about 5 minutes. Remove the mixture to a large stew pot.
In the same frying pan, add as much pork as will fit in one layer. Sprinkle lightly with salt and pepper and cook over medium-high heat until browned. Remove to the stew pot and repeat with pork until all of it is cooked.
While the pork is browning, cut the canned chiles into 1/4 inch dice. Add the chiles to the pot, along with the stock, and 3 cups water. Bring to a biol. Reduce the heat to the barest simmer, and partially cover the pot. Cook, stirring occasionally, for 2 1/2 hours, or until the pork shreds easily when pressed with a wooden spoon. Serve with garnishes and flour or corn tortillas
Sunday, April 20, 2008
April 20: Chinese Glazed Spareribs
It is perfectly lovely to be back in the ample and disorganized bosom of my family after an equally-lovely weekend with The Cutest Little Pregnant Woman On Earth and her hilariously doting husband. I am endlessly amused by his obsessive need to register for every single baby first aid and safety thing on this earth, like every first-time father I've ever met. I didn't have the heart to tell him that we did the same thing, never used anything in those kits even once, and have now lost pretty much every single object in all of them, except the rubber bulb nose-sucker, which Max uses in the bathtub.
We ate some delicious food at the baby shower as well, including four kinds of cheese that The Cutest Little Pregnant Woman On Earth claims that none of her relatives have heard of, let alone tasted. She claimed that pre-cubed cheddar-jack cheese would have been more than sufficient; I claimed that I had a reputation to uphold and bought a bunch of stuff that I didn't think of as particularly exotic, like smoked gouda and roasted garlic cheddar. That cheddar, by the way, was so stinking delicious, I almost wish that T.C.L.P.W.O.E. had been serious about putting cheese in my suitcase. Not only did I broaden a bunch of Kentuckians' food horizons, I had mine broadened by T.C.L.P.W.O.E.'s mother-in-law, who makes this perfectly insane dessert called pave, pronounced pahv-AY, which is apparently graham crackers dipped in milk, some other stuff, and the key to everything: two cans of sweetened condensed milk, boiled for two hours--what I mean is, you boil the actual cans, with the milk still in them, and they turn into this incredibly rich, delicious caramel that would have been a fairly amazing ice cream topping, or drizzled over a poached pear or a baked apple...oh baby.
And now I am home, with my boys, who I've missed so much this weekend. Boy did it feel great to have Max jump into my arms in the airport, especially after sitting next to a girl who I am not certain wasn't completely strung out on drugs, whose panic attack started before we even pulled away from the gate and never really stopped until I flagged down a flight attendant, brought the puking, sobbing, hyperventilating girl to her attention, and offered to trade seats with, well, pretty much anybody on earth at that point, but her boyfriend specifically, who was a couple rows behind us, wearing a t-shirt that said "bang this" on the front of it, fast asleep, and totally unaware until that point that his poopsie was moments away from totally dissolving into acute hysteria. I'm sure that flying Southwest is fine for normal people, but as I am a certified freak-magnet, I don't think it was the best choice for me.
I am not a huge fan of Chinese food, especially restaurant Chinese food, as you probably have heard me say before. I love some of the better flavors in Asian food, though: Thai basil, lemongrass, ginger, soy, five spice, Szechuan peppercorns, Thai bird chiles.
One of the things that I think could be so good is those spareribs from Chinese restaurants. Talk about great potential--sticky, chewy, flavorful, sweet, spicy, moist, and tender. Really, though, way too often, they're just insipid.
Almost everything is better at home than it is in a restaurant. You've got control over what goes in; which changes the tenor of a dish from being, you know, whatever shows up at your table to something that's really yours.
I am really kind of looking forward to trying this, although, yet again, it's from Cook's Country. If I'm going to keep complaining about Cook's Country, I'm really going to have to stop liking their food so much.
Glazed Chinese Spareribs
2 racks pork ribs (2 1/2 to 3 1/2 pounds each), preferably St. Louis cut or baby back ribs
1 cup hoisin sauce
1 cup sugar
1/2 cup soy sauce
1/2 cup dry sherry
1 (6-inch) piece ginger , peeled and sliced into rounds
6 garlic cloves, smashed
strips of orange peel from 1 orange
1 1/2 teaspoons cayenne pepper
30 sprigs fresh cilantro leaves, stems chopped coarse (reserve leaves for glaze)
8 scallions , white parts cut into 1-inch pieces (reserve green parts for garnish)
Glaze
1 (10-ounce) jar hot red pepper jelly
1/2 cup cider vinegar
1/4 cup minced fresh cilantro leaves
1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper
Minced scallion greens greens
1. For the ribs: Adjust oven rack to middle position and heat oven to 350 degrees. With tip of paring knife, loosen membrane on underside of each rack of ribs. Grab membrane with paper towel and pull it off slowly in single piece. Combine remaining ingredients in large roasting pan. Add spareribs to pan, turning to coat both sides, and arrange meaty side down. Cover pan tightly with foil and cook until just tender, 2 1/2 to 3 hours. Transfer ribs to large plate.
2. For the glaze: Strain 3 cups cooking liquid from roasting pan into large nonstick skillet (do not wash roasting pan) and discard solids and remaining liquid. Using wide spoon, skim fat from liquid. Stir in jelly and vinegar. Bring to simmer over medium-high heat and cook until syrupy and reduced to 2 cups, 15 to 20 minutes. Off heat, stir in cilantro and cayenne.
3. Heat broiler (do not raise oven rack). Pour enough water into roasting pan to cover bottom and fit pan with flat roasting rack. Reserve 1/2 cup glaze for serving. Arrange ribs on rack meaty side down and brush with glaze. Place roasting pan back on middle rack in oven and broil until beginning to brown, 2 to 4 minutes. Flip ribs over, brush with more glaze, then broil, brushing ribs with glaze every 2 to 4 minutes, until ribs are deep mahogany color, 9 to 12 minutes (watch broiler carefully). Transfer ribs to cutting board, tent with foil, and let rest 10 minutes. Slice between bones, transfer ribs to platter, and brush with reserved glaze. Sprinkle with scallions.
Serve.
Make Ahead: The ribs and glaze can be prepared through step 2 up to 2 days in advance. Wrap the ribs tightly in foil and refrigerate. Transfer glaze to microwave-safe bowl, cover, and refrigerate. Before serving, allow ribs to stand at room temperature for 1 hour. Heat glaze in microwave on high power until warm, about 1 minute. Proceed with step 3 as directed.
We ate some delicious food at the baby shower as well, including four kinds of cheese that The Cutest Little Pregnant Woman On Earth claims that none of her relatives have heard of, let alone tasted. She claimed that pre-cubed cheddar-jack cheese would have been more than sufficient; I claimed that I had a reputation to uphold and bought a bunch of stuff that I didn't think of as particularly exotic, like smoked gouda and roasted garlic cheddar. That cheddar, by the way, was so stinking delicious, I almost wish that T.C.L.P.W.O.E. had been serious about putting cheese in my suitcase. Not only did I broaden a bunch of Kentuckians' food horizons, I had mine broadened by T.C.L.P.W.O.E.'s mother-in-law, who makes this perfectly insane dessert called pave, pronounced pahv-AY, which is apparently graham crackers dipped in milk, some other stuff, and the key to everything: two cans of sweetened condensed milk, boiled for two hours--what I mean is, you boil the actual cans, with the milk still in them, and they turn into this incredibly rich, delicious caramel that would have been a fairly amazing ice cream topping, or drizzled over a poached pear or a baked apple...oh baby.
And now I am home, with my boys, who I've missed so much this weekend. Boy did it feel great to have Max jump into my arms in the airport, especially after sitting next to a girl who I am not certain wasn't completely strung out on drugs, whose panic attack started before we even pulled away from the gate and never really stopped until I flagged down a flight attendant, brought the puking, sobbing, hyperventilating girl to her attention, and offered to trade seats with, well, pretty much anybody on earth at that point, but her boyfriend specifically, who was a couple rows behind us, wearing a t-shirt that said "bang this" on the front of it, fast asleep, and totally unaware until that point that his poopsie was moments away from totally dissolving into acute hysteria. I'm sure that flying Southwest is fine for normal people, but as I am a certified freak-magnet, I don't think it was the best choice for me.
I am not a huge fan of Chinese food, especially restaurant Chinese food, as you probably have heard me say before. I love some of the better flavors in Asian food, though: Thai basil, lemongrass, ginger, soy, five spice, Szechuan peppercorns, Thai bird chiles.
One of the things that I think could be so good is those spareribs from Chinese restaurants. Talk about great potential--sticky, chewy, flavorful, sweet, spicy, moist, and tender. Really, though, way too often, they're just insipid.
Almost everything is better at home than it is in a restaurant. You've got control over what goes in; which changes the tenor of a dish from being, you know, whatever shows up at your table to something that's really yours.
I am really kind of looking forward to trying this, although, yet again, it's from Cook's Country. If I'm going to keep complaining about Cook's Country, I'm really going to have to stop liking their food so much.
Glazed Chinese Spareribs
2 racks pork ribs (2 1/2 to 3 1/2 pounds each), preferably St. Louis cut or baby back ribs
1 cup hoisin sauce
1 cup sugar
1/2 cup soy sauce
1/2 cup dry sherry
1 (6-inch) piece ginger , peeled and sliced into rounds
6 garlic cloves, smashed
strips of orange peel from 1 orange
1 1/2 teaspoons cayenne pepper
30 sprigs fresh cilantro leaves, stems chopped coarse (reserve leaves for glaze)
8 scallions , white parts cut into 1-inch pieces (reserve green parts for garnish)
Glaze
1 (10-ounce) jar hot red pepper jelly
1/2 cup cider vinegar
1/4 cup minced fresh cilantro leaves
1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper
Minced scallion greens greens
1. For the ribs: Adjust oven rack to middle position and heat oven to 350 degrees. With tip of paring knife, loosen membrane on underside of each rack of ribs. Grab membrane with paper towel and pull it off slowly in single piece. Combine remaining ingredients in large roasting pan. Add spareribs to pan, turning to coat both sides, and arrange meaty side down. Cover pan tightly with foil and cook until just tender, 2 1/2 to 3 hours. Transfer ribs to large plate.
2. For the glaze: Strain 3 cups cooking liquid from roasting pan into large nonstick skillet (do not wash roasting pan) and discard solids and remaining liquid. Using wide spoon, skim fat from liquid. Stir in jelly and vinegar. Bring to simmer over medium-high heat and cook until syrupy and reduced to 2 cups, 15 to 20 minutes. Off heat, stir in cilantro and cayenne.
3. Heat broiler (do not raise oven rack). Pour enough water into roasting pan to cover bottom and fit pan with flat roasting rack. Reserve 1/2 cup glaze for serving. Arrange ribs on rack meaty side down and brush with glaze. Place roasting pan back on middle rack in oven and broil until beginning to brown, 2 to 4 minutes. Flip ribs over, brush with more glaze, then broil, brushing ribs with glaze every 2 to 4 minutes, until ribs are deep mahogany color, 9 to 12 minutes (watch broiler carefully). Transfer ribs to cutting board, tent with foil, and let rest 10 minutes. Slice between bones, transfer ribs to platter, and brush with reserved glaze. Sprinkle with scallions.
Serve.
Make Ahead: The ribs and glaze can be prepared through step 2 up to 2 days in advance. Wrap the ribs tightly in foil and refrigerate. Transfer glaze to microwave-safe bowl, cover, and refrigerate. Before serving, allow ribs to stand at room temperature for 1 hour. Heat glaze in microwave on high power until warm, about 1 minute. Proceed with step 3 as directed.
Thursday, April 17, 2008
I'm sorry, I can't talk right now. I am holed up in a truly spectacular hotel room next to the airport in Baltimore; I have to catch an early flight in the morning and this was a great deal more convenient than any of my other options. I am also a little giddy about the deal I got: a 4 star hotel for $68, thank you so very much Hotwire. It's the kind of hotel room you see in ads: the giant squishy bed, the $8 M&M's in the minibar, even the big soft bathrobe.
Here's the recipe tonight: spicy mussels and chorizo. I love chorizo, it is really a unique and unmistakable taste and adds a note to a dish that there isn't really a substitute for, and I am warming up to mussels in a big hurry. This actually looks delicious; I would do as Martha Stewart does and serve it with garlic bread and rice pudding for dessert, with maybe a green salad to start.
Pardon me, I'm off to recline on my Heavenly Bed like a starlet.
Spicy Mussels With Chorizo
3 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
1 large shallot, minced
2 garlic cloves, thinly sliced
1/4 teaspoon crushed red-pepper flakes
2 cups dry white wine
3 cups canned crushed tomatoes with juice
4 ounces dried, hot chorizo, cut on the diagonal into 1/4-inch slices
1 teaspoon coarse salt teaspoon coarse salt
Freshly ground pepper
2 pounds mussels, scrubbed and debearded
1/3 cup coarsely chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley
Directions
Heat oil in a large, heavy stockpot over medium heat. Add shallot; cook, stirring occasionally, until soft, about 3 minutes. Add garlic and red-pepper flakes; cook, stirring occasionally, 3 minutes. Add wine; bring to a boil. Add tomatoes and chorizo. Reduce heat, and simmer, stirring occasionally, 15 minutes. Season with salt and pepper.
Add mussels. Cover, and continue to cook, shaking pot occasionally. Discard any mussels that fail to open. Serve with garlic bread.
Here's the recipe tonight: spicy mussels and chorizo. I love chorizo, it is really a unique and unmistakable taste and adds a note to a dish that there isn't really a substitute for, and I am warming up to mussels in a big hurry. This actually looks delicious; I would do as Martha Stewart does and serve it with garlic bread and rice pudding for dessert, with maybe a green salad to start.
Pardon me, I'm off to recline on my Heavenly Bed like a starlet.
Spicy Mussels With Chorizo
3 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
1 large shallot, minced
2 garlic cloves, thinly sliced
1/4 teaspoon crushed red-pepper flakes
2 cups dry white wine
3 cups canned crushed tomatoes with juice
4 ounces dried, hot chorizo, cut on the diagonal into 1/4-inch slices
1 teaspoon coarse salt teaspoon coarse salt
Freshly ground pepper
2 pounds mussels, scrubbed and debearded
1/3 cup coarsely chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley
Directions
Heat oil in a large, heavy stockpot over medium heat. Add shallot; cook, stirring occasionally, until soft, about 3 minutes. Add garlic and red-pepper flakes; cook, stirring occasionally, 3 minutes. Add wine; bring to a boil. Add tomatoes and chorizo. Reduce heat, and simmer, stirring occasionally, 15 minutes. Season with salt and pepper.
Add mussels. Cover, and continue to cook, shaking pot occasionally. Discard any mussels that fail to open. Serve with garlic bread.
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
April 15: Tax Day Sandwich
It is Tax Day. I usually love Tax Day, but this year, we are rich (comparitively so) and we have to pay in. We currently have no money to pay in with (how ironic) and so I've filed an extension. The emotional trauma of suddenly being $1500 poorer (oh dear Lord) has made me unable to cook an actual meal, so I have instituted a family tradition: a tax day sandwich.
I like sandwiches. This one is a rather unfriendly one; it has a lot of nitrites and sodium. And pork. But I'm not losing any sleep over the pork. This sandwich is going to ease my pain a little tonight. And believe me, I am $1500 poorer tonight. I have a lot of pain. I'm going to eat this with chips and some really excellent guacamole, and maybe have a drink. Or two. Or seven.
Tax Day Sandwich
4 large slices crusty peasant bread
12 slices smoked deli ham
12 slices smoked turkey
8 slices thick-cut peppered bacon, fried until crispy but not dry
4 slices swiss cheese
4 slices cheddar cheese
8 thin slices tomato
8 thin slices red onion
1/4 cup honey mustard
Preheat broiler, setting rack in closest position to broiler element.
Toast the bread lightly.
Lay each slice of bread on a rimmed baking sheet. Layer each with the following:
3 slices ham
3 slices turkey
1/4 of the honey mustard
2 slices bacon
2 slices tomato
1 slice Swiss
Broil 2 minutes, or until cheese is beginning to melt.
Layer each with the following:
2 slices red onion
1 slice cheddar
Broil an additional 3-4 minutes, until cheese is melty and lightly browned.
Use a spatula to transfer each sandwich to a plate. Drizzle with additional honey mustard, if desired. Serve immediately. Serves 4.
I like sandwiches. This one is a rather unfriendly one; it has a lot of nitrites and sodium. And pork. But I'm not losing any sleep over the pork. This sandwich is going to ease my pain a little tonight. And believe me, I am $1500 poorer tonight. I have a lot of pain. I'm going to eat this with chips and some really excellent guacamole, and maybe have a drink. Or two. Or seven.
Tax Day Sandwich
4 large slices crusty peasant bread
12 slices smoked deli ham
12 slices smoked turkey
8 slices thick-cut peppered bacon, fried until crispy but not dry
4 slices swiss cheese
4 slices cheddar cheese
8 thin slices tomato
8 thin slices red onion
1/4 cup honey mustard
Preheat broiler, setting rack in closest position to broiler element.
Toast the bread lightly.
Lay each slice of bread on a rimmed baking sheet. Layer each with the following:
3 slices ham
3 slices turkey
1/4 of the honey mustard
2 slices bacon
2 slices tomato
1 slice Swiss
Broil 2 minutes, or until cheese is beginning to melt.
Layer each with the following:
2 slices red onion
1 slice cheddar
Broil an additional 3-4 minutes, until cheese is melty and lightly browned.
Use a spatula to transfer each sandwich to a plate. Drizzle with additional honey mustard, if desired. Serve immediately. Serves 4.
Sunday, April 13, 2008
April 13: Bacon-Wrapped Pork Tenderloin
The one thing I like even more than a really tender, mild filet for a special occasion is a pork tenderloin. Love it. Roasted, grilled, butterflied and stuffed, glazed. Whatever. Delicious.
Pork tenderloin has become terribly lean over the last however many years; pigs have been bred, ironically enough, to be not fat. The result is increasingly healthy pork; it's also increasingly tasteless and tough.
The answer is more pork. Of course.
My husband Dan has an unbelievable and totally illogical love of tiny food. Those little tiny cocktail weiners? Oh yeah. Mini-burgers? Little corndogs? Bring it. Myself: I love food wrapped in food.
So this really lights me up. Does anybody remember that episode of the Simpsons, when Moe goes on a date with one of Marge's sisters, and he tells the waiter "I want your best food stuffed with your second-best food." The waiter looks down his nose and says, "Very good, Sir. Lobster stuffed with tacos." Yeah, I'm Moe in this scenario.
Pork tenderloin comes with what's called a silverskin: it's this yucky membrane that you could hold a shotgun to and would never get tender. It's firmly attached to the tenderloin like...I don't know, like something that's attached really tightly to a tenderloin, but it's on there like white on rice. Hey, that's where I left that simile. I'm really quite a gifted writer, from what I understand, but this paragraph, so far, is just kind of awful for anything but humorous purposes. Maybe if I weren't writing in what appears to be approaching iambic pentameter.
Anyway, the easiest way to get rid of the tenderloin is to take a very sharp knife, insert it under the membrane, and gently saw back and forth, holding the knife very slightly angled upwards, with one hand (typically your right hand) while holding the hunk of meat still with your left hand. It takes a little practice, but don't leave the silverskin on.
This is really yummy, I made it a couple of years ago to celebrate when I got the job that I currently have now. Make it, and find some of the tiniest little potatoes you can find, cut them in half, boil them for 10 minutes, toss them in a very hot skillet with a tablespoon of olive oil and one of butter, toss them around until they're brown and the skins are crackly and toasty, crush a clove of garlic and throw that in too and toss it around with the potatoes until it smells yummy. Salt and pepper them, then throw them on a plate with the tenderloin. Make a salad with some peppery greens like arugula and a balsalmic vinaigrette with some chopped shallots and a little pinch of sugar. Open a bottle of California pinot noir, or other dry, fruity thing that tastes delicious, turn on some Van Morrison or the soundtrack to "ThirtySomething" (yes, I know, okay? Could I possibly be a bigger yuppie? No? Alrighty then.) and celebrate something. Celebrate it being Tuesday. Whatever.
Bacon-Wrapped Pork Tenderloin
12–14 slices bacon (1 slice for each pork medallion)
2 pork tenderloins (1 to 1 1/4 pounds each), trimmed of fat and silver skin, cut crosswise into 1 1/2-inch thick pieces
Kosher salt and ground black pepper
2 tablespoons vegetable oil
1. Place bacon slices, slightly overlapping, in microwave-safe pie plate and cover with plastic wrap. Cook in microwave on high power until slices shrink and release about 1/2 cup fat but are neither browned nor crisp, 1 to 3 minutes. Transfer bacon to paper towels until cool, 2 to 3 minutes.
2. Wrap each piece of pork with 1 slice bacon and secure with 2 toothpicks where ends of bacon strip overlap, inserting toothpicks on angle and gently pushing them through to other side.
3. Season pork with pepper. Heat oil in 12-inch skillet over medium-high heat until shimmering. Add pork cut side down and cook, without moving pieces, until well-browned, 3 to 5 minutes. Turn pork and brown on second side, 3 to 5 minutes more. Reduce heat to medium. Using tongs, stand each piece on its side and cook, turning pieces as necessary, until sides are well browned and internal temperature registers 145 to 150 degrees on instant-read thermometer, 8 to 14 minutes. Transfer pork to platter and tent lightly with foil; let rest 5 minutes, then serve.
Pork tenderloin has become terribly lean over the last however many years; pigs have been bred, ironically enough, to be not fat. The result is increasingly healthy pork; it's also increasingly tasteless and tough.
The answer is more pork. Of course.
My husband Dan has an unbelievable and totally illogical love of tiny food. Those little tiny cocktail weiners? Oh yeah. Mini-burgers? Little corndogs? Bring it. Myself: I love food wrapped in food.
So this really lights me up. Does anybody remember that episode of the Simpsons, when Moe goes on a date with one of Marge's sisters, and he tells the waiter "I want your best food stuffed with your second-best food." The waiter looks down his nose and says, "Very good, Sir. Lobster stuffed with tacos." Yeah, I'm Moe in this scenario.
Pork tenderloin comes with what's called a silverskin: it's this yucky membrane that you could hold a shotgun to and would never get tender. It's firmly attached to the tenderloin like...I don't know, like something that's attached really tightly to a tenderloin, but it's on there like white on rice. Hey, that's where I left that simile. I'm really quite a gifted writer, from what I understand, but this paragraph, so far, is just kind of awful for anything but humorous purposes. Maybe if I weren't writing in what appears to be approaching iambic pentameter.
Anyway, the easiest way to get rid of the tenderloin is to take a very sharp knife, insert it under the membrane, and gently saw back and forth, holding the knife very slightly angled upwards, with one hand (typically your right hand) while holding the hunk of meat still with your left hand. It takes a little practice, but don't leave the silverskin on.
This is really yummy, I made it a couple of years ago to celebrate when I got the job that I currently have now. Make it, and find some of the tiniest little potatoes you can find, cut them in half, boil them for 10 minutes, toss them in a very hot skillet with a tablespoon of olive oil and one of butter, toss them around until they're brown and the skins are crackly and toasty, crush a clove of garlic and throw that in too and toss it around with the potatoes until it smells yummy. Salt and pepper them, then throw them on a plate with the tenderloin. Make a salad with some peppery greens like arugula and a balsalmic vinaigrette with some chopped shallots and a little pinch of sugar. Open a bottle of California pinot noir, or other dry, fruity thing that tastes delicious, turn on some Van Morrison or the soundtrack to "ThirtySomething" (yes, I know, okay? Could I possibly be a bigger yuppie? No? Alrighty then.) and celebrate something. Celebrate it being Tuesday. Whatever.
Bacon-Wrapped Pork Tenderloin
12–14 slices bacon (1 slice for each pork medallion)
2 pork tenderloins (1 to 1 1/4 pounds each), trimmed of fat and silver skin, cut crosswise into 1 1/2-inch thick pieces
Kosher salt and ground black pepper
2 tablespoons vegetable oil
1. Place bacon slices, slightly overlapping, in microwave-safe pie plate and cover with plastic wrap. Cook in microwave on high power until slices shrink and release about 1/2 cup fat but are neither browned nor crisp, 1 to 3 minutes. Transfer bacon to paper towels until cool, 2 to 3 minutes.
2. Wrap each piece of pork with 1 slice bacon and secure with 2 toothpicks where ends of bacon strip overlap, inserting toothpicks on angle and gently pushing them through to other side.
3. Season pork with pepper. Heat oil in 12-inch skillet over medium-high heat until shimmering. Add pork cut side down and cook, without moving pieces, until well-browned, 3 to 5 minutes. Turn pork and brown on second side, 3 to 5 minutes more. Reduce heat to medium. Using tongs, stand each piece on its side and cook, turning pieces as necessary, until sides are well browned and internal temperature registers 145 to 150 degrees on instant-read thermometer, 8 to 14 minutes. Transfer pork to platter and tent lightly with foil; let rest 5 minutes, then serve.
Friday, March 21, 2008
March 21: Sausage Corn Bread Muffins
I have a breakfast problem.
Junk food has lost most of its appeal to me, really; I'd rather go home and make myself a turkey sandwich with dill havarti cheese with dijon mustard and arugula and a paper-thin slice of red onion than go through the drive through at McDonald's for a quarter-pounder with cheese. Now that I watch what I eat a little more closely, I really want what I eat to taste good.
That's not the problem. The problem is breakfast. My fast food moratorium does not extend to breakfast, especially not the sausage breakfast burrito from McDonald's, or, God help me, the sausage croissant'wich from Burger King.
That's part of the problem, but the underlying problem is, I don't like most breakfast food: I don't like syrup, I don't like cereal except for Cheerios (don't ask), and I only like fruit in small amounts. I like bacon just fine, of course, because who the hell doesn't like bacon, it's bacon, but a plate of bacon is apparently not an appropriate breakfast. Especially not for a diabetic, whose arteries are prone to clogging and other bad things, things I have tried very hard not to pay a whole lot of attention to until now. Sheesh.
Well then. My breakfast problem is that I have strict requirements for breakfast: it ought to be portable, reasonably healthy, and contain some sort of pork product, because, you know, I'm kind of a stubborn asshole as it turns out.
I like the looks of this bad boy, I have to say. It's from Everyday Food, which I bought yesterday in the grocery store line because I am a sucker for an impulse buy, especially an impulse buy involving a food or cooking magazine of some kind. I have no interest in imitation sausage veggie patties, so I am telling you right now that I have replaced that with real honest to God sausage. Okay, so come on, it's half a pound of sausage in a dozen muffins. That works out to less than an ounce of sausage each, and this probably won't kill me, as long as I don't do what I am concerned that I might do and sit down and eat all twelve of them at once.
Oh, and I'd just like to add the following: I found two typos in this recipe as printed. I have omitted them, because I find typos in a presumably-professionally edited document nearly as offensive as I find imitation sausage, but should anybody be looking to hire a copy editor in the D.C. area, my current job is kicking me to the pavement and laughing while I cry lately, and I might be willing to entertain some offers.
Sausage Corn Bread Muffins
8 oz. hot breakfast sausage
3/4 cup yellow cornmeal
1/3 cup all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 cup buttermilk
1 large egg
2 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted
1 cup frozen corn kernels, thawed
3/4 cup shredded pepper jack cheese
Preheat oven to 400. Line 12 muffin pan cups with muffin liners.
In a non-stick skillet over medium heat, cook sausage, breaking up with a wooden spoon, until browned. Let cool.
Combine cornmeal, flour, baking powder, baking soda, and salt in a large bowl, set aside. Whisk together buttermilk, egg, and butter in a medium bowl. Mix buttermilk mixture into dry ingredients until just combined. Fold in sausage, corn, and cheese.
Divide the batter into the muffin pan cups. Bake 18 to 20 minutes, until muffins are golden and a toothpick inserted into the center comes out clean. Serve warm.
Can be refrigerated up to 3 days, or frozen.
Junk food has lost most of its appeal to me, really; I'd rather go home and make myself a turkey sandwich with dill havarti cheese with dijon mustard and arugula and a paper-thin slice of red onion than go through the drive through at McDonald's for a quarter-pounder with cheese. Now that I watch what I eat a little more closely, I really want what I eat to taste good.
That's not the problem. The problem is breakfast. My fast food moratorium does not extend to breakfast, especially not the sausage breakfast burrito from McDonald's, or, God help me, the sausage croissant'wich from Burger King.
That's part of the problem, but the underlying problem is, I don't like most breakfast food: I don't like syrup, I don't like cereal except for Cheerios (don't ask), and I only like fruit in small amounts. I like bacon just fine, of course, because who the hell doesn't like bacon, it's bacon, but a plate of bacon is apparently not an appropriate breakfast. Especially not for a diabetic, whose arteries are prone to clogging and other bad things, things I have tried very hard not to pay a whole lot of attention to until now. Sheesh.
Well then. My breakfast problem is that I have strict requirements for breakfast: it ought to be portable, reasonably healthy, and contain some sort of pork product, because, you know, I'm kind of a stubborn asshole as it turns out.
I like the looks of this bad boy, I have to say. It's from Everyday Food, which I bought yesterday in the grocery store line because I am a sucker for an impulse buy, especially an impulse buy involving a food or cooking magazine of some kind. I have no interest in imitation sausage veggie patties, so I am telling you right now that I have replaced that with real honest to God sausage. Okay, so come on, it's half a pound of sausage in a dozen muffins. That works out to less than an ounce of sausage each, and this probably won't kill me, as long as I don't do what I am concerned that I might do and sit down and eat all twelve of them at once.
Oh, and I'd just like to add the following: I found two typos in this recipe as printed. I have omitted them, because I find typos in a presumably-professionally edited document nearly as offensive as I find imitation sausage, but should anybody be looking to hire a copy editor in the D.C. area, my current job is kicking me to the pavement and laughing while I cry lately, and I might be willing to entertain some offers.
Sausage Corn Bread Muffins
8 oz. hot breakfast sausage
3/4 cup yellow cornmeal
1/3 cup all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 cup buttermilk
1 large egg
2 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted
1 cup frozen corn kernels, thawed
3/4 cup shredded pepper jack cheese
Preheat oven to 400. Line 12 muffin pan cups with muffin liners.
In a non-stick skillet over medium heat, cook sausage, breaking up with a wooden spoon, until browned. Let cool.
Combine cornmeal, flour, baking powder, baking soda, and salt in a large bowl, set aside. Whisk together buttermilk, egg, and butter in a medium bowl. Mix buttermilk mixture into dry ingredients until just combined. Fold in sausage, corn, and cheese.
Divide the batter into the muffin pan cups. Bake 18 to 20 minutes, until muffins are golden and a toothpick inserted into the center comes out clean. Serve warm.
Can be refrigerated up to 3 days, or frozen.
Sunday, March 16, 2008
March 16: Herb-Crusted Pork Roast
I am not a huge fan of ham. For one thing, as a child, Easter always seemed to be the time of year that I would find myself with a stomach virus, so hard-boiled eggs and ham always make me think of terrible Easter nights spent hugging the toilet. Then, when I was pregnant and had round-the-clock morning sickness for four months, only to be replaced swiftly by a debilitating case of gastroenteritis which landed me in the hospital for several days and had me not feeling 100 percent for several weeks afterwards. In this lasting period of varying degrees of queasiness, I found that ham, to me, looked like what I described to my husband as people meat--cooked and sliced human being of some sort. I can manage a ham sandwich, sort of, as long as there's some pickles and cheese and mustard, something to make me not think too hard about what I'm actually eating.
So, of course, as far as holidays go, Easter's not my favorite. Ham is the traditional Easter dinner around my house, and my grandmother was a big believer in a glazed ham with pineapple rounds, cloves, and marashino cherries. Thinking about what to make for my own family, I think I'd like to give them something a little fresher, less sugary, with fewer artificial colors involved.
I love a center-cut pork loin roast how easy it is to make--it's compact, uniformly-sized, and easy to slice. It's also a little bland. Usually I make some kind of a pan sauce or stuffing, but this year, I'm going to do an herb crust, courtesy of America's Test Kitchen.
Herb-Crusted Pork Loin
1 boneless center-cut pork loin roast (2 1/2-3 lbs.)
Salt
1/4 cup sugar
1 slice high-quality white sandwich bread, torn into pieces
1 ounce parmesan or pecorino cheese, grated (about 1/2 cup)
1 shallot, minced
4 tablespoons plus 2 teaspoons olive oil
Pepper
1/2 cup packed fresh parsley or basil
2 tablespoons minced fresh thyme
1 teaspoon minced fresh rosemary or 1/2 teaspoon dried
1 garlic clove, minced
With a sharp knife, score the fat cap on the pork, making a 1/4 inch crosshatch pattern, then cut a pocket in the side of the roast, stopping 1/2 inch short of each end. Pull open the roast to cut the pocket deeper. Dissolve 1/2 cup salt and the sugar in 2 quarts water in a large container, submerge roast, cover with plastic wrap, and refrigerate for 1 hour. Rinse the roast with cold water and dry with paper towels.
Adjust an oven rack to the lower-middle position and heat the oven to 325. Pulse the bread in a food processor until goarsely ground, about sixteen 1-second pulses. Transfer crumbs to a medium bowl (do not wash the food processor) and add 2 tablespoons of parmesan, the shallot, 1 tablespoon of oil, 1/8 teaspoon salt, and 1/8 teaspoon pepper. Using a fork, toss the mixture until the crumbs are evenly coated with oil.
Add the parsley, thyme, rosemary, garlic, remaining parmesan, 3 tablespoons oil, 1/8 teaspoon salt, and 1/8 teaspoon pepper to the now-empty food processor and process until smooth, about 12 1-second pulses. Transfer the herb paste to a small bowl.
Spread 1/4 cup inside the herb paste inside the pocket in the roast and tie at 3 intervals along the length of the roast with kitchen twine. Season the roast with salt and pepper.
Heat the remaining 2 teaspoons of oil in a 12-inch skillet over medium-high heat until just smoking. Add the roast fat-side down and brown on all sides, 8-10 minutes, lowering the heat if the fat starts to smoke. Transfer the roast to a wire rack set in a rimmed baking sheet lined with aluminum foil.
Using scissors, snip and remove the twine from the roast, discard twine. Spread the remaining herb paste over the roast; top with the bread crumb mixture. Transfer the baking sheet with the roast to the oven and cook until the thickest part of the roast registers 145 degrees on an instant-read thermometer, 50-75 minutes. Remove the roast from the oven and let rest 10 minutes.
Transfer to a carving board, taking care not to squeeze the juices out of the pocket in the roast. Cut into 1/2 inch slices and serve immediately.
So, of course, as far as holidays go, Easter's not my favorite. Ham is the traditional Easter dinner around my house, and my grandmother was a big believer in a glazed ham with pineapple rounds, cloves, and marashino cherries. Thinking about what to make for my own family, I think I'd like to give them something a little fresher, less sugary, with fewer artificial colors involved.
I love a center-cut pork loin roast how easy it is to make--it's compact, uniformly-sized, and easy to slice. It's also a little bland. Usually I make some kind of a pan sauce or stuffing, but this year, I'm going to do an herb crust, courtesy of America's Test Kitchen.
Herb-Crusted Pork Loin
1 boneless center-cut pork loin roast (2 1/2-3 lbs.)
Salt
1/4 cup sugar
1 slice high-quality white sandwich bread, torn into pieces
1 ounce parmesan or pecorino cheese, grated (about 1/2 cup)
1 shallot, minced
4 tablespoons plus 2 teaspoons olive oil
Pepper
1/2 cup packed fresh parsley or basil
2 tablespoons minced fresh thyme
1 teaspoon minced fresh rosemary or 1/2 teaspoon dried
1 garlic clove, minced
With a sharp knife, score the fat cap on the pork, making a 1/4 inch crosshatch pattern, then cut a pocket in the side of the roast, stopping 1/2 inch short of each end. Pull open the roast to cut the pocket deeper. Dissolve 1/2 cup salt and the sugar in 2 quarts water in a large container, submerge roast, cover with plastic wrap, and refrigerate for 1 hour. Rinse the roast with cold water and dry with paper towels.
Adjust an oven rack to the lower-middle position and heat the oven to 325. Pulse the bread in a food processor until goarsely ground, about sixteen 1-second pulses. Transfer crumbs to a medium bowl (do not wash the food processor) and add 2 tablespoons of parmesan, the shallot, 1 tablespoon of oil, 1/8 teaspoon salt, and 1/8 teaspoon pepper. Using a fork, toss the mixture until the crumbs are evenly coated with oil.
Add the parsley, thyme, rosemary, garlic, remaining parmesan, 3 tablespoons oil, 1/8 teaspoon salt, and 1/8 teaspoon pepper to the now-empty food processor and process until smooth, about 12 1-second pulses. Transfer the herb paste to a small bowl.
Spread 1/4 cup inside the herb paste inside the pocket in the roast and tie at 3 intervals along the length of the roast with kitchen twine. Season the roast with salt and pepper.
Heat the remaining 2 teaspoons of oil in a 12-inch skillet over medium-high heat until just smoking. Add the roast fat-side down and brown on all sides, 8-10 minutes, lowering the heat if the fat starts to smoke. Transfer the roast to a wire rack set in a rimmed baking sheet lined with aluminum foil.
Using scissors, snip and remove the twine from the roast, discard twine. Spread the remaining herb paste over the roast; top with the bread crumb mixture. Transfer the baking sheet with the roast to the oven and cook until the thickest part of the roast registers 145 degrees on an instant-read thermometer, 50-75 minutes. Remove the roast from the oven and let rest 10 minutes.
Transfer to a carving board, taking care not to squeeze the juices out of the pocket in the roast. Cut into 1/2 inch slices and serve immediately.
Wednesday, March 5, 2008
March 5: Agnolotti with Sausage
I love Italian sausage in almost any application you can find for it. If you'll go back, you'll see my very first recipe of the new year (right after Hoppin' John for New Year's Eve) was a dish with sausage and peppers over penne, one of my very favorite things.
I like sausage on pizza. I like it on pasta. I like it in sandwiches, in calzone, on the grill. I am willing to consider it in almost any context, with the exception of dessert. Last year, we discovered a roadside stand in Maryland's Amish country that sells freshly-made sweet and hot sausages, both in bulk and hand-stuffed in links. It is so much better than anything you'd find in a store. This same place, I should add, is across the road from Charlotte Hall Market, where you can buy a knockoff Gucci purse and a LED lighted belt buckle that you can (but probably shouldn't) program to say different things, like "My Boo" and "Baby Mama." That's on one side of the market; on the other, the Amish sell live animals, homegrown vegetables, and fresh dairy products. Yes, it is a really weird place, but it's the only place you can get an elephant ear in Maryland in January.
I haven't spent a lot of time at Martha Stewart's website, but now that my best friend is contemplating her baby shower, I am all about the Martha. She has an extensive collection of recipes, and this is one of hers. I'm all for new variations on my theme of sausage, and this sounded good to me. As I mentioned yesterday, I'm on a diet, so this dish with sausage, peas, pasta, cream, and oil probably won't happen any time soon, but if I were making it, I would substitute half of the sweet sausages for hot for a good balance, but follow your own preferences.
This serves six.
Agnolotti With Sausage
1/2 cup (about 1 stick) unsalted butter
2 large onion, cut into 1/2-inch pieces
1 tablespoon olive oil
1/4 cup heavy cream
1 pound sweet Italian sausage,, casings removed
Coarse salt, (to taste)
Freshly ground black pepper, (to taste)
1 (10 ounces) frozen petite peas, not defrosted
2 pounds agnolotti, fresh fettuccine, or 1 1/2 pounds dry pasta such as shells, orecchiette, or rotini
In a medium heavy-bottomed skillet, melt butter over medium-high heat. Add onions. Cook until onions are soft and have lost their moisture. It may be necessary to adjust the heat so that onions do not brown. Reduce heat to medium-low, and continue to cook so that onions brown slowly, stirring frequently, until dark brown but not burned, about 45 minutes total cooking time. It may be necessary to adjust the heat to prevent them from burning.
Heat olive oil in a medium skillet. Crumble sausage into skillet. Cook, stirring occasionally, over medium-high heat until lightly browned. Do not to let the meat dry out. Add cream, and cook, stirring, for 2 minutes. Transfer to a large heat-proof bowl. Break sausage into marble-size pieces, if necessary. Set aside.
Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. Add peas and onions to sausage in bowl. Add agnolotti to boiling water. Place bowl over pot of boiling water to warm through. Cook until al dente, following label directions. Strain pasta, and add to bowl with sausage mixture along with a few tablespoons boiling water. The sauce should not be wet or runny. The agnolotti should be well coated and shiny from the sauce. Transfer to serving dishes, and season with pepper. Serve immediately.
I like sausage on pizza. I like it on pasta. I like it in sandwiches, in calzone, on the grill. I am willing to consider it in almost any context, with the exception of dessert. Last year, we discovered a roadside stand in Maryland's Amish country that sells freshly-made sweet and hot sausages, both in bulk and hand-stuffed in links. It is so much better than anything you'd find in a store. This same place, I should add, is across the road from Charlotte Hall Market, where you can buy a knockoff Gucci purse and a LED lighted belt buckle that you can (but probably shouldn't) program to say different things, like "My Boo" and "Baby Mama." That's on one side of the market; on the other, the Amish sell live animals, homegrown vegetables, and fresh dairy products. Yes, it is a really weird place, but it's the only place you can get an elephant ear in Maryland in January.
I haven't spent a lot of time at Martha Stewart's website, but now that my best friend is contemplating her baby shower, I am all about the Martha. She has an extensive collection of recipes, and this is one of hers. I'm all for new variations on my theme of sausage, and this sounded good to me. As I mentioned yesterday, I'm on a diet, so this dish with sausage, peas, pasta, cream, and oil probably won't happen any time soon, but if I were making it, I would substitute half of the sweet sausages for hot for a good balance, but follow your own preferences.
This serves six.
Agnolotti With Sausage
1/2 cup (about 1 stick) unsalted butter
2 large onion, cut into 1/2-inch pieces
1 tablespoon olive oil
1/4 cup heavy cream
1 pound sweet Italian sausage,, casings removed
Coarse salt, (to taste)
Freshly ground black pepper, (to taste)
1 (10 ounces) frozen petite peas, not defrosted
2 pounds agnolotti, fresh fettuccine, or 1 1/2 pounds dry pasta such as shells, orecchiette, or rotini
In a medium heavy-bottomed skillet, melt butter over medium-high heat. Add onions. Cook until onions are soft and have lost their moisture. It may be necessary to adjust the heat so that onions do not brown. Reduce heat to medium-low, and continue to cook so that onions brown slowly, stirring frequently, until dark brown but not burned, about 45 minutes total cooking time. It may be necessary to adjust the heat to prevent them from burning.
Heat olive oil in a medium skillet. Crumble sausage into skillet. Cook, stirring occasionally, over medium-high heat until lightly browned. Do not to let the meat dry out. Add cream, and cook, stirring, for 2 minutes. Transfer to a large heat-proof bowl. Break sausage into marble-size pieces, if necessary. Set aside.
Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. Add peas and onions to sausage in bowl. Add agnolotti to boiling water. Place bowl over pot of boiling water to warm through. Cook until al dente, following label directions. Strain pasta, and add to bowl with sausage mixture along with a few tablespoons boiling water. The sauce should not be wet or runny. The agnolotti should be well coated and shiny from the sauce. Transfer to serving dishes, and season with pepper. Serve immediately.
Tuesday, March 4, 2008
March 4: Pulled Pork Barbecue
I have a confession to make: I am on a diet.
I know, diets don't work. It's something I say all the time. Lifestyle change is the way to go when trying to drop weight. Move more, eat less.
But here's the thing: I have developed insulin resistance, which is both complicating the regimen with which I manage my diabetes, and also, it's making it practically impossible for me to get pregnant. Both are equally frustrating.
My husband's commute is now a whopping 2 hours a day, greatly increasing the time he spends being inactive. And now he is putting on weight as well.
We needed big crashing change in our life, and we figure that we can modify that easier than from where we are. And so, we've pretty much cut our calorie intake in half. It's not really sustainable, but it's been a hell of a kickstart. I've lost 8 pounds in the past week; Dan, who doesn't weight himself but allowed me to put a piece of yarn around his waist to measure him, is down about an inch and a half of yarn and two loops on his belt buckle.
We're pleased, and encouraged by our progress. We know we won't always be having carrot sticks and water for lunch, but when we can eat like this, it's turning out to be really, really good for us.
So of course, what am I craving? Barbecue.
Mmmmm, barbecue. Dry-rubbed, grilled pulled pork slathered in gooey, sticky, spicy sauce, in a big pile on a plate next to a scoop of potato salad and a scoop of coleslaw. Cuban style pork shoulder marinated in lime and garlic, sliced and served with rice and black beans. Carolina-style chopped picnic roast, with thin, sharp vinegar sauce, topped with sweet slaw on a hamburger bun. Hawaiian Kalua pig, simple and flawless and smoky, with steamed white rice. My mouth is watering as I think about it. I may stop writing a minute so I can go eat a celery stick.
This is the wrong time of year for barbecue, of course, but that's never stopped me. I've made barbecue on my stovetop, in my crockpot, and in my oven all at various times of the year, and to be honest, I actually prefer to make barbecue somewhere other than on the grill, where I have to monitor the fire and add fuel every so often. The crock pot is my favorite.
I don't have a recipe that I follow, and barbecue is a spur-of-the-moment thing for me: I make barbecue when I happen to be in the grocery store and see a nice-looking piece of pork shoulder or roast that looks like it'll make good barbecue. I rub it with a copious amount of some combination of garlic, ancho chile powder, cayenne, crushed red pepper, cumin, dry mustard seed, coarse salt, black pepper, and cinnamon. Into the Dutch oven to brown stovetop, then into the slow-cooker with a mixture of low-sodium chicken stock and liquid smoke to make the house smell invitingly like barbecue for 8 or 10 hours. I pull out as much of the fat as I can because, while pork fat makes things taste good, it does not make the texture particularly enjoyable. Finally, I just mix in bottled barbecue sauce, usually KC Masterpiece, because it's not too sweet, sometimes spiced up with a couple of dashes of some kind of hot pepper sauce.
But that's a little vague for most people, and not really a recipe. So here's a real recipe for pork barbecue--one that you can make in your oven. It even includes a recipe for barbecue sauce, in case you are so inclined.
Also, I have to plead ignorance. I am not sure what the Boston butt is, where it comes from on a pig, or anything else. I use mostly pork shoulder, or, if I find a good-looking one, pork loin. Pork loin is what I typically use for kalua pig, which is not sauced and really a recipe for some other time. Go with pork shoulder in place of the Boston butt, I say.
Pulled Pork Barbecue
1 tablespoon extra-virgin olive oil
2 each medium yellow onions
2 tablespoons chili powder
1 tablespoon cumin
2 teaspoons paprika
1 teaspoon cayenne pepper
12 ounces beer
3/4 cup ketchup
3/4 cup cider vinegar
1/2 cup whole-grain mustard
2 tablespoons tomato paste
1 each canned chipotle pepper in adobo sauce
1 5-pound bone-in Boston butt
Preheat oven to 300°F. Heat oil in a large Dutch oven over medium-low heat. Add onions and cook, stirring occasionally, until lightly browned and very soft, about 20 minutes.
Increase heat to high; add chili powder, cumin, paprika and cayenne and cook, stirring, until fragrant, 1 minute. Add beer, ketchup, vinegar, mustard, tomato paste, chipotle pepper and adobo sauce; bring to a boil. Reduce heat to medium-low and simmer, uncovered, stirring occasionally, until the sauce is slightly thickened, 10 minutes. Meanwhile, trim all visible fat from the pork.
Remove the pan from the heat and add the pork, spooning sauce over it. Cover the pan, transfer to the oven and bake for 1 1/2 hours. Turn the pork over, cover, and bake for 1 1/2 hours more. Uncover and bake until a fork inserted into the meat turns easily, 1 to 2 hours more.
Transfer the pork to a large bowl and cover with foil. Pour the sauce into a large measuring cup or glass bowl and refrigerate until the fat and sauce begin to separate, 15 minutes. Skim off the fat. Return the sauce to the pan and heat over medium-high until hot, about 4 minutes.
Remove the bone and any remaining pieces of fat from the meat. The bone should easily slip away from the tender meat. Pull the pork apart into long shreds using two forks. Add the hot sauce to the meat; stir to combine. Serve hot.
I know, diets don't work. It's something I say all the time. Lifestyle change is the way to go when trying to drop weight. Move more, eat less.
But here's the thing: I have developed insulin resistance, which is both complicating the regimen with which I manage my diabetes, and also, it's making it practically impossible for me to get pregnant. Both are equally frustrating.
My husband's commute is now a whopping 2 hours a day, greatly increasing the time he spends being inactive. And now he is putting on weight as well.
We needed big crashing change in our life, and we figure that we can modify that easier than from where we are. And so, we've pretty much cut our calorie intake in half. It's not really sustainable, but it's been a hell of a kickstart. I've lost 8 pounds in the past week; Dan, who doesn't weight himself but allowed me to put a piece of yarn around his waist to measure him, is down about an inch and a half of yarn and two loops on his belt buckle.
We're pleased, and encouraged by our progress. We know we won't always be having carrot sticks and water for lunch, but when we can eat like this, it's turning out to be really, really good for us.
So of course, what am I craving? Barbecue.
Mmmmm, barbecue. Dry-rubbed, grilled pulled pork slathered in gooey, sticky, spicy sauce, in a big pile on a plate next to a scoop of potato salad and a scoop of coleslaw. Cuban style pork shoulder marinated in lime and garlic, sliced and served with rice and black beans. Carolina-style chopped picnic roast, with thin, sharp vinegar sauce, topped with sweet slaw on a hamburger bun. Hawaiian Kalua pig, simple and flawless and smoky, with steamed white rice. My mouth is watering as I think about it. I may stop writing a minute so I can go eat a celery stick.
This is the wrong time of year for barbecue, of course, but that's never stopped me. I've made barbecue on my stovetop, in my crockpot, and in my oven all at various times of the year, and to be honest, I actually prefer to make barbecue somewhere other than on the grill, where I have to monitor the fire and add fuel every so often. The crock pot is my favorite.
I don't have a recipe that I follow, and barbecue is a spur-of-the-moment thing for me: I make barbecue when I happen to be in the grocery store and see a nice-looking piece of pork shoulder or roast that looks like it'll make good barbecue. I rub it with a copious amount of some combination of garlic, ancho chile powder, cayenne, crushed red pepper, cumin, dry mustard seed, coarse salt, black pepper, and cinnamon. Into the Dutch oven to brown stovetop, then into the slow-cooker with a mixture of low-sodium chicken stock and liquid smoke to make the house smell invitingly like barbecue for 8 or 10 hours. I pull out as much of the fat as I can because, while pork fat makes things taste good, it does not make the texture particularly enjoyable. Finally, I just mix in bottled barbecue sauce, usually KC Masterpiece, because it's not too sweet, sometimes spiced up with a couple of dashes of some kind of hot pepper sauce.
But that's a little vague for most people, and not really a recipe. So here's a real recipe for pork barbecue--one that you can make in your oven. It even includes a recipe for barbecue sauce, in case you are so inclined.
Also, I have to plead ignorance. I am not sure what the Boston butt is, where it comes from on a pig, or anything else. I use mostly pork shoulder, or, if I find a good-looking one, pork loin. Pork loin is what I typically use for kalua pig, which is not sauced and really a recipe for some other time. Go with pork shoulder in place of the Boston butt, I say.
Pulled Pork Barbecue
1 tablespoon extra-virgin olive oil
2 each medium yellow onions
2 tablespoons chili powder
1 tablespoon cumin
2 teaspoons paprika
1 teaspoon cayenne pepper
12 ounces beer
3/4 cup ketchup
3/4 cup cider vinegar
1/2 cup whole-grain mustard
2 tablespoons tomato paste
1 each canned chipotle pepper in adobo sauce
1 5-pound bone-in Boston butt
Preheat oven to 300°F. Heat oil in a large Dutch oven over medium-low heat. Add onions and cook, stirring occasionally, until lightly browned and very soft, about 20 minutes.
Increase heat to high; add chili powder, cumin, paprika and cayenne and cook, stirring, until fragrant, 1 minute. Add beer, ketchup, vinegar, mustard, tomato paste, chipotle pepper and adobo sauce; bring to a boil. Reduce heat to medium-low and simmer, uncovered, stirring occasionally, until the sauce is slightly thickened, 10 minutes. Meanwhile, trim all visible fat from the pork.
Remove the pan from the heat and add the pork, spooning sauce over it. Cover the pan, transfer to the oven and bake for 1 1/2 hours. Turn the pork over, cover, and bake for 1 1/2 hours more. Uncover and bake until a fork inserted into the meat turns easily, 1 to 2 hours more.
Transfer the pork to a large bowl and cover with foil. Pour the sauce into a large measuring cup or glass bowl and refrigerate until the fat and sauce begin to separate, 15 minutes. Skim off the fat. Return the sauce to the pan and heat over medium-high until hot, about 4 minutes.
Remove the bone and any remaining pieces of fat from the meat. The bone should easily slip away from the tender meat. Pull the pork apart into long shreds using two forks. Add the hot sauce to the meat; stir to combine. Serve hot.
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