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.

Dinnertime - Ham-tici-pea-tion

I enjoy ham.  This should come as no surprise to anyone who knows me.  (Forgive the download, but it really is necessary. Enjoy.)  Sadly, as much as I enjoy a good ham dinner, it's not as though I can, in good conscience, make ham every week.

Okay, I could.  But as it stands, we don't.  However, we did have a glorious ham for Easter, bone-in and spiral cut, and I was in soup mode over the weekend.  Pea, bean, potato?  What could be the best combination of starch and pork?  I decided on pea, this time around.

Spiced Yellow Pea Soup

2 cups diced onion

1 cup diced carrot
1 Tbsp salt
1 tsp olive oil
1 Tbsp curry powder
1 tsp dried basil
1 tsp dried dill
1 tsp ground cinnamon
1 bay leaf
1 - 14 oz bag dried split yellow peas
1 ham bone
2 cups diced or shredded ham
2 cups baby carrots, halved
3 quarts cold water
Salt and Pepper to taste

Optional Garnish
3 strips of bacon, cooked (Did I really say 'optional'?)
1 Tbsp cayenne pepper
1 tsp clove powder
1 tsp cinnamon

In a large kettle, heat oil and add onions, diced carrots and salt.  Sweat until tender, then add curry powder, dill, basil and cinnamon.  Stir until spices become aromatic.  Add one bay leaf, split peas and ham bone, then cover with three quarts of cold water.  (If you're using a small measuring cup, that's 12 cups of water.)  Stir together and bring to a boil, then reduce heat to a simmer and cover for an hour or until peas are just tender.

Remove the ham bone and the bay leaf, then puree the soup in a blender or with a stick blender.  Remember that if you do this in a standard blender, take the plug out of the lid and cover with a towel, or you'll have an Exorcist experience all over your kitchen.  Return soup to pot with ham and remaining carrots, and simmer an additional two hours or until soup is reduced by 1/4. 

For the garnish, combine the bacon and spices in a food processor (thank you, Magic Bullet!) and process until fine.  I used pre-cooked bacon for this, and microwaved it for 20 seconds with the spices before processing. 

This makes eight hearty servings, and if you feel you need to wait for cooler weather to have soup, the bone will freeze well. 

And okay, so you could use the green split peas.  However, even though I like most every shade of green out there, I find something unappealing about pea soup green.  Either way, this was delicious.

You can't go to Eddy's again

I spend a lot of time thinking about food.  It's possible I spend more time thinking about it than I do eating it.  And, like other areas of life, it would seem the Chinese restaurant experience of my youth is quickly disappearing from the American landscape. 

I miss Eddy's Place, the weekly destination of my youth.  Eddy is a family friend, as is Rosie, his long-time waitress.  I very nearly proposed to Lori there, but got nervous when we walked in to find my parents sitting at a corner table.  (I did ask, and she accepted, later that evening.)  We have an afghan on our sofa that Rosie gave us as a wedding present.  Since Eddy had been pushed into closing by his landlord, he and Rosie came to my sister's wedding, and it was a joy to see them again.  This is not a typical restaurateur-client relationship, and I'm okay with that. 

Eddy's was not exactly unique in my childhood.  There were four or five other Chinese restaurants of the same sit-down variety that made their way though our dining spectrum, and only one little delivery place.  There was no such thing as the 'Super Happy Steam Buffet of Overcookedness' in my childhood.  I always got a placemat that told me what my zodiac sign meant, and strangely, it's pretty dead-on for me.

There were always egg rolls and egg foo young, and later, dozens of potstickers.  (Due to that family friendship, I have a dozen or so of Eddy's potstickers, frozen for later consumption and made by the man himself in his own home kitchen as a gift to my parents.)  There was custom ordering, combinations that didn't exist on the soy-stained paper menu.  When we were children, my sister would order milk, and since she was, apparently, the only customer who ever ordered it, Eddy would have to send someone across the street to the tiny grocery store to buy some.

As time has passed, I've watched those sit-down restaurants disappear.  In their place, buffets of questionable quality and tiny carry-out places have cropped up.  Lori and I tried yet another buffet last night, hoping for something of higher quality than we got.  So awful was this place, with multi-colored light bulbs, and a scratchy PA system that broke out into the traditional 'Happy Bursday To You' at one point (yes, bursday.  Really.) and the too-common steamed beyond recognition food, that we'll never go back. 

With few exceptions for the high-priced Chinese-Restaurant-As-Fine-Dining places, most of the sit-down places have fallen to disrepair, fish tanks empty or covered in algae, ceiling tiles falling down from unattended roof leaks.  Now, most of the places that will sell me carryout belong to families or corporations that have purchased the Chinese restaurant kit, advertised as 'New York Style'.  These places, in Wisconsin, Florida and Ohio (and I'm sure...your state has them, too...) have the same menus, the same pictures of pre-staged dishes, the same chairs with fan-patterned vinyl, usually green but occasionally pink. 

What they don't have is the same charm of the neighborhood restaurant, a casual family-owned place where the kitchen is hidden, where traditional music is streamed through bad speakers, and where I might even get an odd mix of Chinese-style and American dishes, like a plate of carrot sticks and olives, or the option to order a hamburger.  I've never ordered a hamburger at a Chinese restaurant, but it was comforting to know it was there.  (I spent years with our daughters ordering chicken strips at the Mexican restaurant, so a hamburger at the Chinese place would have opened up our family dining options a little more before their palates grew.)  

When I Google Eddy's Place for nostalgia's sake, the restaurant now comes up with his home address.  I can even see it on Google Stalker View.  Maybe this means I can go to Eddy's again.

He won't mind, I'm sure.

Blast from the Past

January's a busy time around here at CDS Enterprises (A wholly-owned division of NFG Worldwide, Ltd.)  As such, I don't have the time to rant anew - at least not in print.  Being as we are four months from my cresting (and subsequently being 'over') the hill, it seems only appropriate that I share with you some crotchety posts from the past.

I'm not editing these, except where I may have spelled something incorrectly in my angry fervor.
 

Originally published August, 2006
Can you pay them to feed it to you, too?

Call me cheap, call me old-fashioned, call me anti-social (and you might be right on at least one of those fronts...), but when did it become such a chore to prepare a decent meal at home that we now have stores that let you order your 'home made' meals, then arrive at a pre-determined time and throw together ingredients that someone else has purchased, cut up, organized, arranged, chilled and categorized for you?  Isn't this one step removed from picking up TGI-AppleFactory Curbside-to-Go?

One of my friends has started doing this, paying $100 for the privilege of other people's potentially unwashed hands in her dinner, just so she doesn't have to buy a few odd spices.

My spice rack IS odd spices.  I love my trip to the grocery store, and wish the conventional grocery store arrangement of produce - deli - meat/seafood - dairy was rearranged, since my trip usually includes produce - meat - produce - meat - deli - dairy, I'm always composing once I see what looks the best.  I love the adventure of planning a week's menus at a time (I've tried to schedule further, much to my schedule-breaking dismay).

Why do things have to be so complicated when they were always so simple before?  And why didn't I think of it first?  It must be a goldmine!

If it weren't for disappointment, I wouldn't have any appointments

Hey, kids!  Still busy, and back in Ohio this week.  And sadly, I feel that you deserve far more than a cursory 'slice of life review' here at CDS Enterprises. 

Prepare to be disappointed, because 'slice of life' is all I've got today.  Nothing new to share, nothing witty, urbane, or uber-nerdified.  Just a few things to share with you this morning, brighten your day, keep the ol' NFG in your frontal lobes.

I may have mentioned, once or twice, that until recently my job called for lots of travel.  As such, you've been blessed (or subjected as the case may be) with my ever-popular rental car reviews.  This era is coming to an end, nearly has, as this week's rental car will be the last rental car I drive for some time, if I have anything to say about it.

Enterprise has always been quite kind to me.  Usually when I swing a free upgrade, or an upgrade to an upgrade, I'm quite happy with the result.  Over the years, I've driven SUV's and sub-compacts and may things in between.  However, this week's 'upgrade' is great only in that I know I dodged a bullet.

Those of you who've known me the longest know that I have a thing for landyachts.  Grampa cars.  Tanks.  Some of you may remember as far back as the big blue Impala I named 'Baby' back in 1992.  Most recently, the car was a modest Buick Regal, that I loved and took for granted for nine years, and it repaid me the way few cars do, by starting every day and running like a champ.  A few months ago, I got the itch to get something different, and after facing grave disappointment at the hands of a base-level Chrysler 300, I drove a Grand Marquis.  Once I got past the overwhelming grandmaroma, it was a powerful car, much nicer than the 300.  V8 power.  Bells and whistles.  Low miles and a low price.  I was crushed when it sold before I could get back to give it another look.

Last week, I actually bought a car.  But when I hesitated, balked at spending more than $5 in one fell swoop, the salesman offered me a Grand Marquis as a comparison drive.  I was underwhelmed, Lori was seasick.  Obviously, I did not buy the Mercury.

Which brings me to Sunday's adventure at the Akron airport (slogan: we now have a second baggage carousel!).  Out of mid-sized and intermediates, they 'upgraded' me into a shiny black Grand Marquis.

I feel like I need dark sunglasses and a black suit.  Perhaps an earpiece with a little coiled wire trailing into my collar.  Perhaps a Glock.

It is, in fact, a very nice-looking car.  Very regal.  Very conservative, imperial, and big-brother-y.  I want to like it.  I want to adore it, with its eight-body trunk, its 7 MPG, its bench seat.  It should, in theory, be everything I like about a car.

But I don't like it.  It's squishy.  If I had to describe the ride quality, I could only compare it to lying on a waterbed as toddlers jump up and down all around you.  If I adjust the seat so I can reach the gas, the brake pedal is way too close.  Back up so the brake is the right distance, the gas is unattainable.  The V8 seems doggy, like I'm fighting up any hill I face.  I have to lean halfway across the car to change the radio station or turn the volume down, since it seems to get louder as I drive.  And everything is plastic, aside from the leather seats.  Cheap.  I shouldn't have to open the arm on the cupholder by hand, once I pull the combination lighter/ashtray/cupholder from it's unwieldy spot under the dash.  I shouldn't be worried that I'm going to smack my knee on it every time I step on the gas.  Oh, Enterprise, I'm left wondering what might have been.  And I still have four more days of driving it!  At best, I can only give it a 'C', and that's based in part on my desire to see it do well rather than on true merit. 

And, as long as we're on the subject of disappointment, let's talk about Monday's dinner.

Last time I was up, the owner took me to this great little tavern, where I had an awesome burger.  Real beef, real rare, with bacon and cheddar and onions, oh my.  I went back tonight, and since their sign proudly boasts their ribs before their burgers, I figured, hey: signs don't lie, right?

Wrong.  Again, such high hopes.  They smelled wonderful.  Looked beautiful, glistening under their sweet sauce, promises of slow, day-long cooking taunting me as I fought to get the steak knife through the first slab.  Tough, undercooked (for ribs), and clinging to the bones for dear life.  They really need another few hours in a slow cooker.  Some things just shouldn't be rushed.  I couldn't see abandoning half of my meal, so I brought them back to the room with me.  I may, from the privacy of my own hotel room, with wet washcloths and a roll of paper towels at hand, be able to work my way through them.

The Lyonnaise potatoes, though?  Heaven.  Slightly oniony, very buttery, and golden brown.  The potatoes of dreams.

There you have it, dear reader.  Disappointment all around.  I'll try better next time, promise.

Let the awkward commence!

Ah, I can feel the awkward wash over me like a light spring rain. It's been quite the weekend in Cheesehead Displacement land, kiddies!

I may have implied, in Sunday's dinner recipe post, that perhaps Australia is not exactly the fine purveyor of wines they like to believe themselves to be. I just might have posted a link to Monty Python's 'Australian Table Wine' sketch. I may even have chuckled at the thought of 'this is a wine suitable for hand-to-hand combat'. I disparaged one vineyard in particular, as I was not pleased with the bottle I had.

And the winemaker called me on it. Well, not called, but they did leave a very polite and apologetic comment on the post, while informing me that I was drinking their wine incorrectly.

I feel bad. I never want to be the one to belittle one's life's work, unless you happen to be this guy:After all, not everyone's taste is the same.

Also awkward, I felt compelled to compliment another blogger last week, he'd put a lot of work into a beautiful chopper, and since I'd want someone to tell me what they thought of my work, I felt it only proper to convey my appreciation in kind.

However, since the blogger is from Japan, and the blog itself in Japanese, I had to fall back on a translation tool to give me something to cut and paste. Since then, most of my Google banner ads have been in Japanese. I've begun to correspond with another Japanese biker, and while he's informed me I can write to him in English, this only deepens my awkward feeling, when I think my translations must have been so awful, he'd rather fight his way through a non-native language than let me butcher his.

I feel bad about this, but given as he's continued to correspond in English, I can only hope for good things to come of it.

Speaking of good things coming, the winning-est awkward moment of the month goes to that girl in the car next to us at the light last night. Nothing like sitting stopped at a light, looking around, and then finding myself staring at a girl's butt in the window as the rest of her bobs up and down over the driver's seat. The windows were tinted, and as I was trying to decide how to point this out to Lori without simultaneously alerting my daughter in the back seat, a pickup truck on the other side of said vehicle made it very clear that my original perception was correct.

And there was much rejoicing.

Kids, Road Head is bad. It is a dangerous thing when the car is moving, and simply quite embarrassing when you decide to do such a thing at a red light, between two larger vehicles that get to look right down into your car. Do it while the car is moving, and every pothole could be the worst second of your life.
Plus, she wasn't wearing her seatbelt. And that's dangerous.

Should also note: Taku, my new friend, commiserated with me on the eternal weight gain. He also shared with me his height and weight, indicating that he's "a big eater and getting fat", at just under my height and 80% of my current mass. Thanks for that ego boost. I really do need to start working out.

Fun Fact Friday - Science, it's what's for dinner

While I'm performing little science experiments with dinner and blogging about them, Lori has embarked upon her own brilliant project. She's barely a week in so far, but she plans to post a new photograph every day for the next year. You can see what she's doing here! You'll notice that, in contrast to my own photography, her pictures are studied, well-balanced, in focus, and level. I can't even do level without photo-editing software, and she throws around big photography words like - well, I can't think of any. I can be supportive, just don't ask me to understand the lingo.

Wednesday night I threw together some crab cakes, thinking they'd be a nice addition to Melissa's white corn recipe over at Alosha's Kitchen. They sell sweet corn at the grocery store this time of year, how bad could it be, right?

Bad. Little chewy nuggets of starch. If vegetables could have gristle, this corn did. In a willful suspension of disbelief (WSD), I allowed myself to buy something that is clearly not in season.

For any of you that might not be familiar with the general geographic, geologic shape of the planet that we all, presumably, live upon, the earth is a sphere. That orbits a big ball of super-hot gas we call the sun. Because of that orbit, we have seasons. And if you live in the northern hemisphere, it's the coldest damn part of winter right now. Even here in Florida they're expecting us to dip below freezing again.

Corn, on the other hand, is a summer vegetable. Growing up in Wisconsin, oft was the time I'd heard 'knee-high by the Fourth of July', meaning that sweet corn wouldn't really be in season until mid- to late August.

Funny thing about hemispheres, when it's winter up here, it's summer down south, and vice-versa. That means that mid- to late February is the perfect sweet corn season, if, say, you live in Argentina, or New Zealand, or Rand McNally.

Which brings me to the actual science-y bit of today's discussion.

Fresh-picked sweet corn, corn that self-justifies the term 'milk stage' when a kernel is popped, corn which is then soaked in icy cold water and grilled until the husks are almost gone, dipped in melted butter and salted lightly is a good thing. It is good, because fresh corn kernels are still filled mostly with sugar. And it's difficult not to feel joy as butter dribbles down one's chin.

However, the farther corn needs to travel from field to table, or the longer it sits on grocery store shelves, the more that sugar is converted to starch through an enzymatic process, especially if the corn is held at less than optimal temperature. Sweet corn for market is hypercooled to remove as much field heat from the ears as quickly as possible to slow this conversion process. However, a careless or hurried farmer may rush the process, damaging the quality of the corn before it's even loaded on a truck.

Additionally, when I'd buy sweet corn in Wisconsin, it was coming from a farmer who drove it a mile up the road to where he's selling it, and probably picked the ears that day. Right now, I'm approximately 4000 miles from Argentina and Rand McNally, making that trip significantly longer.

Fresh corn is doomed this time of year, because no grocery store has the capacity to hold it at optimal temperature. The warmer corn is, the faster it converts all of the sugar to starch. Corn kept in a humid, 33-degree environment will convert approximately 6% of its sugar reserves to starch in a day. Conversely, in an arid, 50-degree environment, one I'd say closely resembles my local market, corn will convert nearly 60% of its sugar reserves to starch in one 24-hour period.

So sorry, Melissa, to have sullied such a fantastic recipe with bad science. Next time I'm buying frozen.

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.

Fun Fact Friday - The Tryptophantastic Voyage

Happy Black Friday, everyone! Still feeling it today?

Perhaps you're just finishing up a leftover turkey and stuffing sandwich after slogging through the crowds at 4 am just to get a free gift with purchase. And you know I love me some sandwiches.

Perhaps you're putting up the tree, hanging lights and nursing a sore back from falling off the slippery ladder in the rain.

Maybe you're an unfortunate soul who has to shovel today.

Maybe you're even at work. In the past, I would retreat to the office, since it was the one place I knew nobody would be on the day after Thanksgiving.

Whatever your post-Thanksgiving ritual, I just wanted everyone to remember that the turkey isn't to blame for your sluggish demeanor, that nap you took on the sofa next to Uncle Ed, and your lack of desire to move one inch today.

Tryptophan, though long blamed as the culprit of our blessed drowsiness, is present in many day-to-day foods and doesn't have that much affect on us. The issue here is quantity.

Somehow, no matter how much we try, it's very easy to eat a pound of turkey, maybe some ham, a few helpings of mashed potatoes, three of Aunt Ruth's rolls with butter, and of course you need to sample all of the desserts and go back later for more turkey. And there's always room for Jell-O. And more pie. Bears don't eat this much before they hibernate. Your body is trying so hard to digest those 7000 calories, there's little bloodflow left for anything else.

But that's a long, drawn out excuse. No wonder tryptophan gets a bad rap. It's just easier to pass the blame, especially when we're all this tired.

Enjoy the rest of your hopefully long weekend, I'll be back Monday!

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.

Dinnertime - th-th-th-th-th-th-th-that's pork, folks!

Not surprisingly, we were watching television the other night, and as usual, I found the nerdiest thing possible to watch. Apparently, despite efforts to control the spread of feral hogs in the U.S., we're being overrun. There are currently approximately six million of these beasts becoming increasingly aggressive in as many as 40 states. Efforts to control them have had minimal effect at best. (And because I'm watching For Your Eyes Only as I type this, it becomes tempting to put my pinky to the edge of my mouth when I say 'six million', a la Dr. Evil.)

In order to do my part (since these hogs are, after all, in Florida, and I can't expect the Burmese pythons to take care of them), I'm posting TWO pork recipes this week.

Apricot Curry Pork Chops

8 boneless pork loin chops, approximately one pound total weight

2 Tbsp apricot preserves

1/2 cup chopped dried apricots

1 Tbsp curry powder

1/2 Tbsp cinnamon

1 red pepper, cut into strips

2 Tbsp white vinegar

1 Tbsp lemon juice

Fry pork chops in minimal oil until brown on both sides, then hold in a 180-degree oven. Add apricots, preserves, red pepper and one tablespoon of white vinegar to the saute pan. Once the preserves are softened, add curry powder and cinnamon. Cook until peppers and apricots are soft, then add remaining vinegar and lemon juice. Simmer until sauce is thickened, then add pork chops back to pan. This can be served with rice, I chose to make steamed bok choy and baked potatoes.

Makes four servings

Pork chops with fried apples

4 thick-cut boneless loin chops, 6-8 oz each
4 granny smith apples
2 Tbsp butter
2 Tbsp vegetable oil

Heat butter and oil in a large heavy skillet over medium-high heat. Sear the fatty edge of the pork chops in the pan until golden, then flip to opposite edge. Core, slice and add apples to pan, cover and reduce heat to medium-low. After 10 minutes, remove cover and raise heat to reduce juices, flipping chops to one face for two minutes, then flipping to other side to finish. Serve with egg noodles. I also had a nice Spanish white that I bought a number of years ago that added a nice citrus note to the meal.

Makes another four servings.

Now, of course, if you happen to get a whole hog, you'll need a few extra apricots or apples, but it would be worth it.

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?

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.

Dinnertime - It's not easy being green

Sometimes I worry about my food. Okay, I always worry about the meals I share with you, my faithful reader. I decided that as I look across all the pictures, my meals are surprisingly monochromatic. Yes, many delicious foods are reddish-brown (bacon, for example) but I wanted to think outside the little reddish-brown box. It's important to me, too, that I create meals that you can recreate with minimal effort. I love long, complicated recipes that I can use to challenge myself, but if all I wrote down were those, you'd never believe me when I tell you that anyone can cook.

As such, I bring you Crab in Green Thai Curry. In your blender or food processor, combine:

2 tbsp galangal
1/2 cup basil
1/4 cup flat-leaf parsley
1/2 cup cilantro
1 tbsp coriander seed
1 tbsp green curry paste
1 cup chopped white onion
2 cloves garlic, peeled
1 serrano pepper
1 large tomatillo
1 tbsp fish sauce

Blend until smooth. You may need to add a small amount of water to the blender to get things started.

In a large skillet, add another cup of onion, 1 serrano pepper and another tomatillo, chopped to one tablespoon of vegetable oil. Once soft, break up and add a stalk of lemon grass, and add 1 pound canned crab (four cans). You can certainly splurge and buy the beautiful lump crab, I'm trying to stay on a budget and four ounces of lump crab costs as much as a full pound of the canned, fine flaky crab. I'll save the expensive stuff for crab cakes.

Add the curry sauce, salt and pepper to the skillet and simmer for 10 minutes. Add 8 ounces of coconut milk and the zest and juice of one lime to the pan, and simmer for another five. Remove the lemon grass before serving over steamed jasmine rice, and top with steamed fresh spinach, garnish with green onions.

Makes four servings, I also had the leftovers in an egg-white omelette this morning. Very nice.

The Week In Review (so far...)

Sure, it may seem premature to blog about the week in review on Thursday morning, but the last few days have been somewhat eventful, so I figured I'd get my random nerdiness out of the way so I can bring you officially single-minded nerdiness tomorrow.
Maryland, or at least Germantown, Maryland, is quite a peaceful town. So relaxing. Really...is there something politcally incorrect to just say 'Speed Bumps'? The best part is, you can see how far apart they are, and there was a sign before EVERY ONE.

I thought I'd share my restaurant experiences with all of you, in the event that you wind up in this little corner of the planet some day.

Old Shanghai is an all-purpose Asian bistro, as is the trend these days. Pan-Asian, I think is the term. Great service, too many good choices to pick from. Read Sunday's post for details on my meal.

The next night, I ventured across the strip mall courtyard to Agradolce. I was actually headed to Old Shanghai for a repeat of the dumplings, but they had seafood risotto on the specials board and a bar in front of the wood-fired brick oven, so I was sold. Ah, memories of Rome. I actually wound up with the duck confit risotto, though what I got was more of a melange of every risotto they had on their menu, with wild mushrooms and an assortment of other vegetables. Excellent texture, great flavor, though I could have done without the frozen corn. Did a comparison between an older Montepulciano d'Abbruzzo, one of my favorite varietals out of Piedmont, and a younger Sicilian red. Both delicious, though the Sicilian would have worked better if my dinner had a little spice to it.

Tuesday I ventured the opposite direction, and saw Bailey's Pub and Grille. Beautiful stone and copper building, I was expecting something like a Ruby Tuesday's, only not so generic. What I walked into was what I can only imagine is a Hooter's where they stopped caring about anything except the wait staff. The place stank of stale beer and vomit, a smell that only got worse as I pried open the drink menu. This was a dime-a-dozen place, a restaurant that probably renames itself every time the health department shuts it down - the menus didn't even bear the restaurant name, just a myriad of generic TGI-McFunsters fare. I walked out without ordering, and even then I felt as though I needed a shower.

Yesterday's lunch, however, was a highlight not only in the trip, but possibly in my life of casual dining experiences. EN Asian Bistro was clean and simple, the staff friendly and outgoing. I could eat their crab fried rice every week and never tire of it. Real crab, not the pink stuff spelled with a 'K'.

Glad to have carbs for my long journey ahead, I raced to the airport yesterday afternoon to make sure I was checked in on time. I needn't have worried, as we finally took off almost two hours late on the following plane:

As if crying children aren't bad enough on a plane, try keeping them up a few hours past their already generous bedtime. And then, let's cram a fidgetty 10-year-old named after a damn dirty hippie in the seat next to me. "Where do you live? Were you on vacation? There's some good articles in there. Mom, what book are you reading? Have you been here? I need to go to the bathroom. Do you still subscribe to this magazine?" All the while popping hard candy like it was Ritalin. The worst part of these experiences is when I worry that people think these rude kids belong to me. My children are not rude in public, talk to the crazy woman in printed socks and orange shoes behind me. It was a blessing to finally get back to the truck that Lori left for me in long-term parking when she left for Ohio, get in peaceful air conditioning, hit the Taco Bell drive-through so I didn't pass out (since I last ate 12 hours earlier), and come home to an equally silent house.

Quincy seems to be happy to be home as well, after I sprung him from the pokey this morning. He's already fallen back into being his lazy, smelly self. And he seems to have a new little brother or sister.
Brody (after Adrian) has apparently taken up residence in the pool. Lori fished him (or her, how do you tell?) out of the pool earlier this week, and when I went to check this morning, he/she/it was happily doing laps again. I put him/her/it back after this picture, since it seems he (enough already) likes it there, and I won't have a terrapin fritter on my deck when I get home tonight after a day of brutal sun.

Bonus Post - Maryland Adventures

So I'm in Maryland for the majority of the week, and so far it's pretty groovy. Our first trip through the state many years ago, with surly pre-teens in the back seat and nasty hot weather was unpleasant, to say the least. This time, seeing the northern part of the state, I'm much happier. Rolling hills, winding backroads, lush and green and pastoral.

I landed in Baltimore (first the right side of the plane, followed by the left), and being the all-purpose nerd that I am, coupled with my love of cake (third in line after bacon and pie), I sought out Charm City Cakes, just to take this picture.

Of course, Baltimore as a whole, while a little run down and worse for wear in these economic times, still has other charms:

The color doesn't do these houses justice, they were so bright and vibrant, but again, cameras and I don't get along. Drove past Camden Yards, too, but since I'm not actually a baseball fan, let alone an Orioles fan, I didn't see a reason to risk life and limb while driving 50 miles per hour and snap off a blurry, uncentered picture.

And then there's this thing. The Emerson Bromo-Seltzer Tower, as Google so kindly informed me.

I don't know what bromo-seltzer is (though I'm sure Google could come in handy there, too), but Captain Emerson, who invented it, also built the tower. Apparently it sported a giant bromo-seltzer bottle at the top of the tower until 1936, when the fun police deemed it unsafe.

I went a little overboard here in Germantown for dinner, thanks in no small part to not eating anything since my granola bar before the flight this morning. Pan-fried dumplings, fried squid and a dish called seafood chow foon, that was lots of seafood and vegetables on top of Amish-style noodle dumplings. Mmmm, carby. Good stuff, must thank Courtney for polling her friends for me ahead of time, I love it when a plan comes together.

Now it's time for...THE PREMATURE (and always popular) RENTAL CAR REVIEW!

When I rent cars, I rent under the premise of an extended test drive. As my faithful readers may recall, the top scores have always gone to big luxury cruisers like the V8 Lucerne and the zippy Maxima. However, on the company's nickel, I try to stay frugal. As such, I am driving a glorious sub-sub-sub-compact Kia Rio (because 'Kia It-has-four-wheels-what-more-do-you-want' wouldn't fit across the tiny decklid). The nice thing about a car this small is that I can still roll down the passenger windows without leaving my seat, even though there are no power windows.

Really, I kid. I know lots of people like tiny cars. I can't fault that, I try to stay conscious of the environment and such when it doesn't bum my natural high on life. For a tiny car, it has a remarkable ride quality. Smooth, even on some bumpy roads I ran across. Of course, at 11.8 miles on the trip odometer, it developed a nasty rattle somewhere in the dash, so ride quality was insignificant since I started avoiding potholes anyway. Excellent radio, too, at least for me. As long as the speakers don't buzz and I don't feel like I'm back in my first car with the AM radio, I'm good. Precise steering, adequate pickup when you floor it with the AC on, so first assessment, I'd give this car an overall B-. Nothing I want to own, ever, but actually nicer than the larger Spectra I had in Kansas City last January.

Dinnertime - Pollosole

I love my Crock Pot. The joy of putting something together in the morning or night before, and coming home eight hours later to a near-complete meal, is sheer perfection.

Traditionally, posole is a pork stew, and I love pork shoulder in the Crock Pot. However, the posole model seems to hold true no matter what meat is in place, including the last time I had menudo at our favorite Mexican restaurant in Wisconsin. (Our favorite Mexican restaurant, period, is La Playa Bonita, on the east coast of Cozumel. Worth the trip, try the ceviche and margaritas before you have a massage on the beach.)

In your Crock Pot, combine:

1 medium roasting chicken, about three pounds

1 small onion, chopped

2 cups red cabbage, shredded

1 tsp cumin seeds

1 tsp chili powder

1 Tbsp salt

1 16-oz can white hominy, drained

1 8-oz can Ro-Tel tomatoes and peppers

After stewing all day, I removed the chicken to a baking dish and ran it under the broiler for five minutes just to crisp up the skin. I also turned up the Crock Pot with the lid off to let the soup thicken slightly. You can then carve the chicken traditionally and serve it atop the soup, or you can shred the meat and stir it back in for something more refined.

Garnishes are what finish the dish, I love an interactive meal and each diner can flavor the dish to his or her liking.

Chopped green onions or minced white onion

Shredded cabbage

Sliced radishes

Sliced jalapeno

Chopped cilantro

Sour cream

Lime wedges

Warm corn tortillas

This is a healthy meal for four, or would serve eight as a soup course.

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!