Dinnertime - Shiksa-Bob

Stock Photo - we ate this too quickly for pictures!

Many of you know my affinity for pork products.  If not, you should click here.  I also like the flavors of India and Asia, and I'm looking for new things to do once we start harvesting the ample supply of wild pigs in this country.

1# Pork Sirloin, in 1-inch cubes

1 Cup Buttermilk
1 Cup Cilantro, loosely packed
2 Cloves Garlic
1 Tbsp Thai green curry paste
1 Jalepeno or Thai chile, or more to taste
1 Tbsp kosher salt
1 Large Onion, 1-inch dice

Combine all ingredients except pork and onion in a blender, puree until smooth.  If you don't want to buy buttermilk, you can combine one cup milk and one tablespoon of vinegar.  In a large bowl, add the contents of the blender to the pork and stir to coat.  Cover and refrigerate overnight.

The next day, alternate onion slices and pork cubes on skewers, and cook over high heat on a grill or under the broiler (if it won't stop raining, like here in Cleveland, for example.) until golden brown. 

I served this on warm naan with a green mango chutney from the latest cookbook in our collection, you could add this to rice or even add the marinade to tomato sauce and yogurt for a sauce.  Makes four servings.

Love, American-Style

Has it really been almost two weeks since I wrote to you, kiddoes?  Probably, kids.  Life moves pretty fast.  I passed my one-year Blogiversary without fanfare, but I think 234 posts in 365 days is pretty good, for me. 

Now, in the summer of my discontent, I've been spammed, my punishment for paying little attention to you, dear readers.

But oh, what a holiday weekend it's been!  Plantings, big and small, have adorned our little abode and made it a little more 'ours'.  We have a Japanese maple again, and I'm thrilled that thanks to the graft, we actually have two different varieties of these beautiful trees.  Flowers in pots and boxes, red, blue, black and white, brown and yellow.  Discovered baby rabbits under one of the carefully planted shrubs around our house, explaining why the Dammit has been so interested in that side of the deck.

Took the bikes out, and lo and behold, HILLS!  Curving roads, and more hills.  Things...To...See.  Llamas (which are quadrupeds, and live in large rivers like the Amazon...), barns for sale, streams and falls and classic cars.  Really should get it titled, like soon.

Fired up the grill not once, but twice.  Tuna and summer squash on the patio last night, with cherry pie and vanilla ice cream for dessert.  Tonight, ribeyes and corn enjoyed in air conditioned comfort, because I never adapted to the heat during our stay in America's Wang, and we finally toasted the giant marshmallows I bought just for being giant marshmallows.  That was quite the sticky mess, but once a year is good for me.  This doesn't mean I don't have room for more pie, calling to me from atop the cabinet. 

Last night we walked to the town's fireworks display.  We were going to drive, until I saw people parking in front of our house and walking from even further with their blankets and chairs.  The walk wasn't as far as I'd expected, and we enjoyed what was undoubtedly one of the best small-town displays I've ever seen, sitting on our blanket and staring at the clear night sky filled with all manner of shapes and colors to the accompaniment of Sousa marches.

So it was a good weekend all around.  One might say I loved it.  Here's hoping you enjoyed yourselves, as well, and that you finished the weekend with as many fingers as you had when it began.

Deja Vu All Over Again

Oh, dear reader, how I've missed you.  It's been a busy week at Chez NFG, what with the packing and the unpacking and the driving and such.  N'glavin. 

For anyone who doesn't already know, we're now Ohioans by residence, if not yet legally. (Still featuring America's Wang on the license plates and driver's licenses.  Can't do everything at once, you know....)  I've been working here, off and on, for the last six weeks, we're finally permanently ensconced.  No more hotel pillows for me, thank you.

Somewhere in the midst of this, I passed the 50-mark on subscribers to this little queso-centric world o' mine, so I thank each and every one of you kiddoes, my dear, dedicated readers.  You deserve so much better, you really do, so I'm gracious for every little word you choose to read here.  We'll get this train back on track soon enough.  I've been dreaming up new quizzes, and there are pictures and stories to share.  (And I'll be here when the day is new, and I'll have more ideas for you.)

Our movers were great, and ask and ye shall receive, we had the same driver that moved us to Florida back in '07.  Mike is a wonderful guy, and seeing that big white and yellow truck in front of the house brought back memories.  He recognized many of the boxes crushed by our previous move, boxes that never got unpacked in 2 1/2 years.  We even happened to pass him a few times on the road, and stopped at the same rest area for lunch so chatted for a little while.  Not that I could hear my phone ring in the car, but he also called to warn us about some impending road construction while he was ahead of us.  I have no desire to participate in another cross-country move any time soon, but he's the go-to guy if change rears its difficult head at us again.

Moving also meant new discoveries.  When Lori moved a shelf in our old living room, she found a mummified frog, a remnant of the frosty winter we had in Florida. 

We had a few stowaways, lizards that haven't quite come to terms with the sudden temperature shift.  One hitched a ride inside the rim of my potted rosemary bush, and the other managed to stow away inside Lori's desk.  It was 95 degrees the day our movers packed the truck down in Florida, and the last few days here have been in the low 40's with rain and hail.  Sucks to be cold-blooded, apparently.  Though I'll take lizards over cockroaches "palmetto bugs" any day.

Made our first meal in the new kitchen last night, herb-stuffed chicken breasts with a roasted beef marrow risotto.  Worked out very nicely, though I still need to fine-tune the location of some of the more popular utensils.  Oh, and we still need to find the box with all of our flatware. 

The dammit is transitioning as well as can be expected, he seems to recall quite well what the bark collar does.  He may have a few more bouts of collar-wearing until he figures out on his own that there's nothing to bark at (except the giant squirrels).  Hopefully he figures that out before he figures out the battery's been dead for three years.

And after more than a month spent sleeping in rented beds, air mattresses and the floor, I'm glad to be back in my own bed again, this time for more than a few days at a crack.  And despite Lori's flagrant use of earplugs for dramatic effect, I know she missed my snoring over the last month.  I'm sure of it.  Just ask her.  No, wait, don't ask.   Just trust me, she's fine with it.

Really.

Fun Fact Friday - Under Pressure

If salt was a drug, I could sell it by the gram.

What was up with those Queen dudes and that Bowie, ripping off a fine artist like Robert Van Winkle like that, anyway?

Saw a brief news article that made me cringe, the food nazis are back at it again. A New York state legislator has introduced a bill that, if passed, would ban the use of salt in restaurant cooking. Thankfully, and understandably, the restaurant community is up in arms and fighting back.

The bill, A. 10129 (if you cared) states, in part: "No owner or operator of a restaurant in this state shall use salt in any form in the preparation of any food for consumption by customers of such restaurant, including food prepared to be consumed on the premises of such restaurant or off of such premises."
The legislation, which Assemblyman Felix Ortiz , D-Brooklyn, introduced on March 5, would fine restaurants $1,000 for each violation. (No word on the regulation of Pepa or Spinderella.)

I agree that some fast food chains could probably cut their sodium use 90% and we'd never notice. Fine dining establishments, those that rely on the more delicate balance of the five tastes our bodies perceive, are less guilty of this, in my opinion.

Some, especially my darling wife, would suggest that I use far too much salt. I may not agree, but I can see that. However, what are they really driving at here with actual legislation to control our health, what could they hope to achieve? If I go to my grocery store, buy a Hot Pocket from the freezer for my lunch, that's almost half of my RDA of sodium right there. And who eats one Hot Pocket? Instead, I cook many of our meals at home, use fresh vegetables whenever possible, and try not to season heavily when I cook. However, I like salt. I like salty things. Buttered egg noodles with salt and pepper, salt on eggs, tomatoes, meat. Salt on my French fries when I do eat out. But I don't salt apples or melon or pizza, like some are apt to do. I don't salt desserts, though I did just have a sea salt caramel pretzel ice cream that was wonderful, and a Lindt sea salt dark chocolate bar a few weeks ago, with the hint of salt once the mouthfeel of cocoa butter had passed. And yes, I'm being treated for hypertension. I take a little generic pill once a day and all is right with the world.

I like fat, too. Much like the evils of salt that 'those in the know' like to force upon us, foie gras faced a similar fate in Chicago some years back. Foodies are a powerful lobby, I guess, and some creative chefs found a loophole until the ban was ultimately lifted. Because foie gras tastes good. Bacon tastes good. Cheese tastes good. Salt makes things taste good, complimenting sweetness or cutting oily or acidic flavors.

Salt is a preservative. A flavor enhancer. Even a required mineral to keep all liquid from evacuating your body like a fire drill. Salt was once currency. Will legislators outlaw money next? Perhaps just in restaurants.

And they said there's no such thing as a free lunch.

Dinnertime - Low and slow, that is the tempo

Mmmm, Crockpottery goodness. Sometimes (often times, I suppose) simple meals are the best. Last night's dinner was no exception. It's 'cold' here in Florida, and the occasional tang of woodsmoke in the air just adds to that wintry feeling. I love comfort foods, slow-cooked meats and the unctuous mouthfeel of melted fat. Add to that a bottle of very nice wine and my Bitsy Pookums, and dinner was incredible. This is a little more involved than some crock-pot dishes, but well worth that last half hour of work, trust me.

In the morning, combine the following in your crock pot:

4# chuck roast
4 cups carrots, peeled and cut to bite-size
8 branches of fresh rosemary
1 unpacked cup flatleaf parsley (I just grabbed a handful off the bunch)
4 cloves garlic, slivered
1 cup slivered onions
1/2 cup red wine
1 Tbsp celery salt, sprinkled on roast
Salt & Pepper

Turn the slow cooker on low heat for seven or eight hours. When you're ready to finish the meal, you will need:

8-10 pearl onions
4 cups rough-chopped mushrooms (I used cremini, shiitake, and oyster)
2 Tbsp butter
1 Tbsp olive oil
1/2 cup red wine now
3-4 Tbsp flour
4 cups beef juices, divided (from the slow cooker, add water to supplement)
3 cups frozen baby peas, thawed
1/4 cup red wine later

Pierce the onions with a paring knife right next to the root end. Add to boiling water and boil for 10 minutes or until tender. My Julia Child trick, the piercing. I watched her belittle Jacques Pepin on national television for not piercing the onions, as they will expand uncontrollably without that release point. Drain and cool in ice water. Remove the root end and outer layers of the onions and reserve.

In a heavy saute pan, melt butter with olive oil until bubbling. Once bubbling subsides, add chopped mushrooms. You will want larger pieces, as they will cook down and you don't want them dwarfed by the other vegetables.

Something I learned about mushrooms that makes me very happy. DON'T TOUCH THEM. Let them sizzle away in one spot until you just can't take it anymore, then toss them. This allows them to take on a beautiful golden-brown crispiness instead of just steaming down. Do it. You will be rewarded.

Once the mushrooms are golden brown, add the pearl onions to the pan to allow them to soak up that delicious color. Sprinkle with two tablespoons of flour, and cook until flour has all but disappeared in the pan. Add 1/2 cup of red wine, and cook until all moisture is gone. Add half of the juices from the roast and stir, you'll see the sauce thicken. Because I don't separate the fat from the juices, this fat will rise to the top of the pan. Gauge this and measure 1-2 tablespoons of additional flour into a sealed container, then add the remainder of the juices and create a slurry by shaking the container vigorously. Add this to the saute pan and allow to simmer.

Remove the roast from the slow cooker and allow to rest, covered. Retrieve the carrots from the slow cooker and add to saute pan. Just before serving, add remaining wine and the peas to the saute pan and stir to combine. Spoon the sauce over shredded beef.

I love the egg noodles with this, but you can also serve over mashed or boiled potatoes. Parsnips and rutabaga would also be a nice addition. This makes four healthy portions, and you can adjust depending on the size of roast you buy.

As for the wine:

I had an open bottle of shiraz in the refrigerator, a Mollydooker Boxer if you must know. Thanks to early experiences and this Monty Python sketch, I've shied away from the Australians. The Mollydooker, when I opened it very long ago, was slightly reminiscent of cough medicine, so syrupy it was. But it still worked for cooking. From the same friend as the Mollydooker, I had an '05 Midnight Run Crow Eater, a blend of shiraz and grenache that was much friendlier than a full syrah. It was a bright, high-alcohol wine, and really stood out with the luscious earthiness of dinner. Certainly one of the best bottles we've had in a while.

Random Acts of Thursday - My Low Resolution Makes Me Blurry

I have never been one for New Year's Resolutions. I cannot resolve to do less of the bad things and more of the good things, my willpower just doesn't roll that way. However, I can resolve the following:

I resolve to be nerdier than ever in 2010. Put your thinking caps on, there are quizzes to be answered and perhaps more prizes to be won.

I resolve to be as amusing as I can possibly be to satisfy the needs of you, dear readers. More reminiscing about the fat kid I was, and more amusing anecdotes from the fat guy I am.

I resolve to eat more pie. We're less than a month away from National Pie Day, you know...

I resolve to go on being as perfect as I already am.

Here's wishing you a safe and happy New Year's Eve. Remember, it's amateur night. Designated drivers and couch crashing are the in thing.

The Tide is High...

But I'm holding on. Or something like that.

I've had a little wine tonight, including a Tobin James Fat Boy...you are what you drink, you know.

Retro wine-drinking Elliott, but a fine simulation of this evening.

I feel as though I've neglected you, dear reader. Don't worry, though, I'm still here. Lots of stuff going on, so I'm sorry if you feel like you're last on my list. You're not.

Really.

Trying to coordinate a home sale, a move, and finding a new home 2300 miles away takes its toll.

I haven't posted recipes lately, because even though it's 82 degrees outside, I've moved into hibernation mode, and I'm rocking the comfort food like nobody's business. This means roasts and mashed potatoes, food that doubles as childhood memories, and cookies. Really. I've eaten an entire pumpkin pie in the last week.

My mom, sister and brother-in-law visited last weekend, spoiled the dammit beyond all fairness, and we went to see manatees and stingrays and tarpon and such down by the electric plant. It was almost relaxing enough that I forgot what my password was on Monday. Their visit was enough to wash the foul taste of last week's plumbing mishaps from my mind.

And now, in less than a week (by hours, at least) we'll be back in the homeland, the frozen tundra, the great white north: Wisconsin. Even though I'll be working for three of those days, that still means six days of freezing temps, icy sidewalks and windshields, and at least one trip to a trashy corner bar. Good times.

Because I had time off, my whole calendar is screwed up. I wrote Monday's post on Saturday, thinking I was running late. I never got around to last week's fun fact. Did you notice? I'd like to pretend you did.

And a final, caring, special holiday note courtesy of the bottle of red I had this evening. TLC, knock it the hell off.

We already tolerate the Duggars, grit our teeth through Jon and Kate. We humor you when you run not one, but two separate series involving little people. We sit idly by when you rip off 'beloved' Food Network shows. But did we really need this? Not a rhetorical question. We do not.

Call me surly, leave me coal in my stocking, don't care. I think we've had enough.

Enough reality television, that is, not wine. Can't have enough of that.

On a positive holiday note, I've been toying with a special Christmas contest for you, oh dear reader. Oh, happy meat! Oh, happy soul!

Stay tuned.

Dinnertime - Beef, it IS what's for dinner.

I've been trying to cook more often again, especially since making nice dinners gives me cause to break out some nice wines. This week has been particularly beefy, since both grocery stores on my regular route had steaks on sale. And, since imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, I really wanted to relive some of the great meals I've had on the road in the last month or so.

Earlier this week I found beautiful filets, and I've been craving the oven-roast method lately. Add sauteed mushrooms, roasted butternut squash polenta, and a Brussels sprout gratin, and it was a perfect meal to compliment a lovely '98 Montepulciano d'Abruzzo. This wine was the next-to-last bottle from the case we bought after our first trip to Rome in 2002. Having had a bottle every year or so, it has matured beautifully, still smooth with hints of apple, and overall, a warm, drinkable wine. This went from aggressive and peppery to even and mellow over the years. Still so happy we have one bottle left.

We never made it to the other bottle. What can I say, I'm a lightweight.

Tonight was a mix of ribeyes and green beans on the grill, with horseradish mashed potatoes inspired by the accompaniment to the scallop and beef cheek dish at the Flying Fig a few weeks ago. I cracked an '04 Amancaya, a cab/malbec mix from Chile. Delicious and quite drinkable, but I think it could have benefited from a few more years in the cellar.

These were such simple meals, giving you recipes seems counter-intuitive, so I'm just going to let you drool over the photos.

Dinnertime - Wrapped around my finger

You have only come here seeking knowledge, and I'm here to help, hopefully.

Beef and herb tortelloni

3 cups roast beef, cooked and shredded

4 oz ricotta

1 Tbsp fresh parsley

1 Tbsp fresh rosemary

1 Shallot

Salt & Pepper

1 - 16 0z package 3" wonton wrappers

Last week, I threw a beautiful rump roast in the Crockpot with 10 cloves of crushed garlic, along with some salt and pepper. While it was quite delicious, it was also quite large. After being roast beef dinner with noodles, it was put into service for sandwiches and tacos, but there was still a giant chunk left, and I didn't want it to go to waste.

I've seen tortellini and tortelloni made before, on television, but my past attempts have been less than pretty, to say the least. However, I have to challenge myself from time to time, and this, strangely, felt like the day for a challenge.

Finely chop the herbs and shallot, and if you just have unseasoned roast beef, add a clove of garlic to the mix. Do not, I repeat, DO...NOT...buy the jar of pre-minced, oil-or-water soaked garlic of unknown provenance and age. You will regret it. Your children will regret it. Shame will be piled upon your family name for generations. Just buy the head of whole garlic. There will be much rejoicing.

Mix the herb-shallot mince with the chopped, shredded roast beef and the ricotta, stirring with a fork to combine well. Get yourself a glass of water (and perhaps a glass of wine) and a teaspoon measure. Place a wonton wrapper at a bias (so it looks like a diamond instead of a square) and wet half of the wrapper from corner to corner with your fingertips. Place a teaspoon of filling in the middle of the wonton*, then fold on the bias. Place the seam on top of your index finger, then pull the corners around to form a loop, stickng the ends with more water. Go HERE for a beautiful visual tutorial, I couldn't have done nearly this well.

Clear a large workspace for yourself, since you'll need to arrange the finished tortelloni so they're not touching. Once you've formed your first tortelloni, you're on your way! Less than 4 dozen more to go. I arranged a piece of foil on a baking sheet for easy transportation.

Once you've finished, you can:

(a) Freeze the tortelloni on the baking sheet before bagging if you're going to eat them later. Because we've been eating this roast for a few days, I think waiting is a good thing. Besides, I have ribeyes to grill yet tonight and Lori made some incredible dill potato salad.

(b) Cook the tortelloni. Get yourself a nice big kettle of boiling, salted water. Because your filling is already cooked, you're just cooking the pasta. Five minutes MAX, when they float they should be done. And nothing's wrong with a little taste test. After all, you just slaved for an hour to make these things. In a separate saute pan, add four tablespoons of butter and a tablespoon of olive oil, along with some chopped parsley. Remove the cooked tortelloni from the water, shake free of excess water and add to the saute pan. Garnish with shredded parmesan.**

Makes four nice dinner portions with a side of grilled asparagus, hit with a quick squeeze of lemon. Also makes eight servings for a beautiful pasta course.

* It's important that you not overfill your pasta. Don't underestimate the edge you'll need to bring these together. Also, make sure you work all the air out of the filling pocket before forming the tortelloni, air will expand during cooking and you'll have a tortelloni explosion. If you have leftover filling, freeze it to add to tomato sauce later.

** Parmesan, or parmagiano, does NOT come in a green shaker can. Those are floor sweepings. Buy a wedge and shred it yourself, or buy the clear tub of recently shredded cheese from your deli. Really.

Random Acts of Thursday - now broadcasting at one million watts

Are you sick of Bond trivia yet? Let's hope not. Officially (or not, depending on who you ask), eight actors portrayed Ernst Stavro Blofeld, head of SPECTRE and Bond's arch-nemesis. Only one of these actors was previously enlisted as an MI6 ally.

More importantly, this actor shares his name with a founding member of an early '80s post-punk alternative band.

And this means ESSAY QUESTION!

This means that you must 1) name the actor, 2) name the band, 3) identify the film, and 4) identify the setting both film and band's music share.

Extra credit: Share a recipe that embodies the spirit of the band or film.

Make sure you show your work. And despite the fact that I write these little trivia things for my health, you could pretend I'm not and actually go back and answer last week's question, too.

My relationship with staples

In this hectic, workaday world, I don't always get to the grocery store to buy a week's worth of healthy, delicious meals-in-the-making. Since we're trying to cut back, and it's far healthier not to eat restaurant food every day, I still enjoy cooking dinner at home. It's a stress-reliever for me.

Growing up in a household where my father grew up with very little, then learned to cook from the old German women at the YMCA camp before he went off to the military, our house was stocked to feed an army no matter when we last went grocery shopping. It might not have always been the most coherent meal, but there was never a shortage of meat, vegetables and carbs in the house.

Once I moved out on my own, I found myself buying large quantities of staples to hold me over between shopping trips. My freezer was full of different meats, and I had a staggering array of instant potatoes, canned corn, dried beans and Jell-o. And of course, since it was only me, sometimes a can of cold creamed corn was all I needed to hold me over.

Even now, I can look in my pantry, fridge and freezer and put together about a month's worth of meals. I am obsessed with pasta, so there are always at least seven or eight varieties, I think there are about 15 types right now including a few I bought at the Thai grocery. We have canned beans, both regular and baked, and dried beans of all sorts. Frozen fish and beef roasts, along with a bag of food service meatballs that can be nuked and go with anything, plus more beans, frozen. Dozens of spices, herbs and seasonings. Five jars of tomato sauce. Four boxes of broth. Three types of roasted peppers, two types of peanut butter and a partridge in a pear tree.

Okay, no partridge, but I do have a can of Tasty Brand Curry Mock Duck.

Because sometimes, I just need dinner to be easy.

What do you keep on hand for emergency dinners?

Random Acts of Thursday - My Title is Earl

A few years ago, back when MySpace was king and Twitter wasn't even a glimmer in some papa bird's eye, I was hooked. (Because it's good to be the king.) However, being self-conscious enough about my picture, I never posted the 'who's your celebrity look-alike?', because apparently, my celebrity look-alikes aren't very attractive people. One of my friends posted a candid picture of me, post-gin, staring into the sun, and I got the 'Look everyone, it's Jimmy Kimmel!' The big killer, though, is that advanced computer programming decided that I looked like Jason Lee. And only Jason Lee. This wasn't even the cool, best-lines-in-the-movie Jason Lee, the 'Chasing Amy', 'Dogma' Jason Lee, this was 'My Name Is Earl', I-just-rolled-out-of-the-sleeper-sofa-and-put-on-dirty-socks Jason Lee.

Splendid.

Anecdote aside, I really want to talk sandwiches with you folks. I had the acme of childhood memory food the other day. In honor of International Bacon Day last Saturday (What? You didn't miss it, did you?), I made bacon spagetti, the only recipe of my grandmother's I have any hope of replicating. This meant that Sunday, lunch was bacon spagetti sandwiches. Heaven.

What? You've never had a spagetti sandwich? Shame on you. If I ever manage to get off my ass and actually open the sandwich restaurant I've been devising in my head for years, this is going on the menu.

Please now, share the strangest sandwich you absolutely must have, that odd little combination of food between two slices that takes you back to your childhood. And be honest, this is for science. Once you've posted, go make yourself a spagetti sandwich, you're missing out.

Poetry in motion, I'm not

Baking is science, and a scientist I am not.

We were to have a pot-luck breakfast at work this morning, and in an attempt to bring culture and joy to the office, I planned to celebrate International Bacon Day one day early.

The muffins above are NOT mine, though that is usually how my baking projects turn out. (and on a side note, be careful when Googling 'muffin' at work to key the whole word instead of accepting the first suggestion the Mighty G offers you. Just sayin'.) Instead, I wanted to share bacon-cheddar corn muffins with everyone, because that's how I roll (or muffin, as the case may be).

Bad things, man. Bad things! Really. How difficult could it be to fry some bacon, crumble it and add it to a Jiffy cornbread mix with some shredded cheddar? It was, even for me, baking simplicity, and I don't bake, because for me baking is always a baking fail.

A lot of it comes down to three important factors, and I will always screw at least one of them up. First, there's the whole greasing/flouring of the baking pan. No matter how hard I try to get that right, somehow I manage never to do it right, as my baking sticks in non-stick bakeware no matter what I've done, even if I use Crisco and powdered Teflon, my baking will split in half.

Second, there's the distraction factor. If I'm cooking, it's an active process. Pans to watch, sauces and pasta to stir, temperatures to monitor. With baking, the prepared dough/batter/whatnot goes in a preheated oven, the timer gets set, and there's nothing to do. This often means I wander off to do something else, like mow the lawn or teach underprivileged kids to yodel, and I end up with baked goods that could have been manufactured by Kingsford.

Finally, there is the experimentation that for an accomplished baker would be child's play. For me, I end up messing up the wet-to-dry ratio, or completely missing that I doubled an ingredient that I already doubled once, and get a wet, sloppy mess that will never set.

Last night I committed sin #1, and despite heartily greasing my mini muffin tins, those damn things wouldn't come free for anything. I overfilled, which meant that I couldn't even get a knife around the sides without popping off the muffin crown. Cornbread, being crumbly like it's wont to do, wasn't cooperating on the properly filled tins, either, so I have two dozen mini-muffin crumbles at home.

Apparently, the road to pot-luck breakfast, running parallel to the road to Hell as it does, is paved with good intentions and muffin crumbs.

Fail.

Dinnertime - Chicken Gremolata

Ever on the quest for quick, simple meals that still qualify as comfort food, this week's recipe brought back memories of the Gasthaus in Waukesha, WI, with their wiener schnitzel. (A la holstein? Yes, please!)

4 skinless, boneless chicken breasts
1 Tbsp flour
2 Cups panko breadcrumbs
butter and oil for frying

Equal measures of:
Flatleaf parsley
garlic
lemon zest

Split the chicken breasts on the flat as though you were going to butterfly them, but you want to end up with two individual cutlets rather than one large piece of chicken. Toss in the flour and then press into the panko.

Over medium-high heat, saute chicken two cutlets at a time in vegetable oil, adding a pat of butter near the end to turn the panko golden. Add to a baking dish in a low (180-degree) oven until finished cooking all chicken. Reserve the pan.

Make your gremolata by finely chopping equal parts flatleaf parsley, garlic and lemon zest. I tried this in the Magic Bullet, not my finest product. Still had to chop everything by hand.

Cook 8 ounces angel hair or other pasta until al dente, then drain and return to pan. Mix in one tablespoon of gremolata and one tablespoon of butter.

Reheat the saute pan and toast the remaining panko. Deglaze the pan with the juice of one lemon and toss with the angel hair. Remove chicken from the oven and plate with angel hair, and sprinkle the chicken with gremolata.

I guess that only proves that I'm insane

The joy of weather is that if you don't like it, give it a minute and it will change. Despite the beautiful drive to work yesterday, it was a rather moist, windshield-free ride home. Even stopping under cover to wait for the storm to pass didn't help, because I'd just catch up to it again. I was a bit damp by the time I pulled in my driveway.

But it was still a great ride.

I have to share some fun things from my newest friends at International Bacon Day, because bacon is our friend. In any language.

Bacon in Many Languages
English - Can I have some Bacon?
Dutch - Kan ik wat Bacon hebben?
French - Est-ce que je peux prendre du lard ?
German - Kann ich etwas Speck haben?
Greek - Μπορώ να έχω κάποιο μπέϊκον;
Italian - Posso avere certa pancetta affumicata?J
apanese - 私はベーコンを食べてもいいか。
Korean - 나는 약간 베이컨이 있어서 좋은가?
Portuguese - Posso eu ter algum bacon?
Russian - Могу я иметь некоторый бекон?
Spanish - ¿Puedo tener un poco de tocino?

Also, while I have not always been a big fan of true love, I did finally find mine. Some day, I'll get around to posting my former opinion of the big TL, 'Just Another Fairy-Tale Notion'. However, true love does mean that you can joke about it a little. Check out The Oatmeal's "Six Reasons Bacon is Better Than True Love", and maybe take the quiz to see if your loved ones are just fattening you up to eat you.

Happy Saturday!

Random Acts of Thursday

I was learning useless things this morning, while eating my lunch at 9:15, one of which is that such lovely sandwiches as the one pictured above (Tankatsu-Sando, or fried pork sandwich) truly exist in the world. Which got me to thinking about umami, the 'fifth taste', or meatiness, and how joyous it is. I get that odd tickle at the back of my throat just looking at this sandwich, memories of frittered pork of days gone by.

Iowa, being the land of all things porky and divine, was home to what was likely the best pork tenderloin sandwich I ever had on a bad road trip. We went to pick up Buttercup in the middle of nowhere, and how can you pass up a tiny roadside restaurant, especially when our friends already insisted they would never again return to Iowa. Good stuff. Good, good stuff. You can see the pictures in my MySpace album, if you're so inclined.

There is, any time I eat such things, a tingling of physical joy in my medulla oblongata that I cannot explain. Like the tickle one gets while swinging on a park swing, right before someone attempts to underdog you and takes a laden swing to the head.

And yes, I had to include a picture of the brain and all of its lovely braininess, just so you could tell exactly where the medulla oblongata resides, not mistaking it for the angular gyrus.

Speaking of the facets of the brain, it's time for your bonus movie quote of the week, since Courtney knocked out Monday's quote in minutes flat and we still have four more days until the next Movie Mania Monday:

I stand on the hill, not for a thrill,
but for the breath of a fresh kill.
Never mind the man who contemplates
doin' away with license plates.
He stands alone, anyhow, bakin' the cookies of discontent
by the heat of the laundromat vent. Leavin' his soul…and partin' the waters of the
medulla oblongata of - -brrrrrr! - -mankind!

Guess away, the prizes are endless and highly envied!

Of course, at mention of the angular gyrus, I'm made to reminisce about another sandwich favorite, and am so glad we found two quite adequate replacements for Yanni's gyros back in Wisconsin. Romano's grates the onions finely, so they're not trailing about when I take my too-big bites.

I was watching Top Chef Masters last night, and the most brilliant concept for a four-course meal was spread before me. A meal based on memories, on those stand-out moments in the culinary lives of these chefs, and I had to look back. What was my first prominent food memory? I remember little of our trip to Colorado in 1975, other than falling in the Cripple Creek while panning gold. I remember our neighbors hosting a pig roast every year, moist, salty crackling pork, with sauerkraut and white potatoes laden with the drippings. I remember my first taste of blood-rare beef, in Quebec City at age 10.

Food really is an adventure for me, I never want to be bored with it, there are so many exciting places to go in this world and when I get there, I want something I can't eat anywhere else.

I'm actually misty (and semi-tumescent) at the thought of these things. What kinds of memories have guided you in life? What first triggered you to do what you wanted to do with your life (or still want to do?)

Oh, and lastly, I must thank Mjenks the Indefatigable for posting the following photo. I wonder if they come in a boy version? I may have to get a pair nonetheless.

Dinnertime - Chicken Curry

In case you haven't figured this out by now, I am not a photographer, that's Lori's job. I am only allowed to use a camera if I promise not to pass my shots off as photography. Obviously, I'm not a food stylist, either. I regret the cilantro on the picture above, but since I ate this soon after I took the shot, there wasn't the opportunity for a do-over.

However, when it comes to flavor, this is a winner. Lori and I love the flavors of India, but it gets pricey going out - mainly because I want to order everything on the menu. In fact, given the opportunity, I would have made some paneer saag to go along with this, it's one of my favorites.

Indian food gives me the opportunity to work with a dozen or more ingredients without feeling guilty, since so much good food is simple. However, the layers of flavor in an Indian-style dish cry out for this.

1 star anise
1 shallot or half a small onion
3 cloves garlic
1 Tbsp grated ginger
1 Tbsp curry powder
1 Tbsp red Thai curry paste
large handful fresh cilantro
1 large jalapeno pepper
1 Tbsp coriander seed
1 Tbsp mustard seed
12 oz canned tomatoes or tomato puree

Combine Blend to a smooth puree. If you want less heat, you can seed the jalapeno or even put in half - or you can add a second one for see-through-time heat.

1 Tbsp vegetable oil
4 chicken breasts or 8 thighs, skinless and boneless, chopped
1 red onion, sliced into strips
8 oz plain yogurt

In a large skillet, heat the oil and add chopped chicken. Brown on both sides, then add onion. Once onions are soft, add curry sauce and reduce heat to low. Cover and simmer while you cook rice to accompany the dish. (Did you miss the note about 'see-through-time hot'?)

Just before serving, stir yogurt into the curry and heat through. Serve over rice and accompany with naan or other flatbread.

Makes 4 servings. Enjoy!

Dinnertime - Fish Tacos

Sometimes inspiration comes from the simplest of places. Hopefully imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, since I read The Peach Tart's blog last week and said 'I must have that!' Yes, you can read the recipe there, but I made a few tweaks so I'm typing it here, too. (So there.) I even resisted ordering fish tacos for dinner last night after our trip to the gallery, settling instead on the blackened grouper sliders (also nice, they may turn up here in the future).

I have never been successful in my frying endeavors in the past, either reducing my food to charcoal or losing the breading to the non-non-stick surface of my cookware. I had higher hopes with PT's advice and a new, more complex batter recipe.

1 cup flour

2 Tbsp corn starch

1 tsp baking powder

1/2 t salt

1 egg

3 bottles of your favorite beer (I chose Guinness)

Combine all dry ingredients in a large bowl. Pour one cup of beer into a measuring cup and add one egg. Scramble and combine with the wet ingredients. DON'T overmix, you want batter, not dough. Finish the rest of the first bottle of beer.

In a large pot, heat three inches of oil. I don't fry much, but I know enough not to fill the pot to the top with oil, since once you add moisture to it, you may get unexpected results. Unexpected is not good.

I bought three nice, fat catfish fillets (at a healthy 8 ounces each), and finished my second bottle of beer while cutting the fillets into quarters. Pat the fillets dry and season with sea salt and cracked pepper. Old bay might be nice here, as would a kick of cayenne if you're feeling adventurous.

When your oil gets up to temperature (I set mine to '6', not very technical but it's the number next to 'High' on my stove), fry corn torillas one at a time and form them into shells. I draped them over the outside of my Twinkie pan, and it was the perfect shape. Next, add your fish to the batter and coat fully and evenly. Gently ease fillets into the oil one at a time, I fried three at a time to give them room to cook evenly and to flip them around in the oil. Depending on the thickness of your fish, cook five to seven minutes until the batter is golden, then drain on a rack resting on paper towels or even better, kraft paper.

While your fish is cooking, and between sips of beer, make your slaw.

4 cups shredded red cabbage

1 cup diced red onion

1 diced jalapeno

juice of one lime

1 1/2 cups mayonnaise

Mix all ingredients and chill until fish is cooked.

To serve, halve a fillet and arrange in a taco shell. Top with slaw and garnish with fresh cilantro and a squeeze of lime juice. Makes 12 tacos. Enjoy!

You are what you eat and I'm a real fun guy.

It's important to me to learn something new every day, to keep the sparks firing in the synapses of my gray matter. Generally speaking, these sparks wind up being useless tidbits of knowledge that result in me not being invited to many parties.

Because I'm annoyingly inquisitive by nature, and because I still view veganism as, well, WRONG, as I ate my free bagel this morning, I decided to do a little research. The Vegan Society defines veganism as such:

"[T]he word "veganism" denotes a philosophy and way of living which seeks to exclude — as far as is possible and practical — all forms of exploitation of, and cruelty to, animals for food, clothing or any other purpose; and by extension, promotes the development and use of animal-free alternatives for the benefit of humans, animals and the environment. In dietary terms it denotes the practice of dispensing with all products derived wholly or partly from animals."

I really was thinking about what constitutes the simple breakdown of Animal/Vegetable/Mineral, and was curious about where yeast fell into that simplest of categorization. Yeast is related to mold and mushrooms, and apparently a biological gray area. They fall somewhere between plants and animals, but to me, anything that can turn my white cheese blue, or raise my baguette, or produce alcohol in my beer and wine, is not a stoic little plant. These individual little organisms give their lives to the production of good eating and drinking, and isn't that animalian? I think so.

I declare, therefore, in my little corner of the world, that henceforth, vegans don't get pennicillin or beer.

Other people are often wiser than me, why not take advantage of their wisdom?

Just a few things to share for the day, insightful and creative things that I couldn't put better myself...

"A human being should be able to change a diaper, plan an invasion, butcher a hog, conn a ship, design a building, write a sonnet, balance accounts, build a wall, set a bone, comfort the dying, take orders, give orders, cooperate, act alone, solve equations, analyze a new problem, pitch manure, program a computer, cook a tasty meal, fight efficiently, die gallantly. Specialization is for insects." Robert Anson Heinlein (via ckck)

If only I'd known these things sooner...

And in case you haven't figured it out, I enjoy bacon. (best commercial quote from the radio this morning: "How can I get my wife to be more like [this preferred brand of] bacon?") Being into the savory things in life, I am rarely attracted to chocolate in purest, Hersheyest form. I prefer the daring flavors. Rejoice, rejoice, rejoice!