This began as another of those "What'll we have for dinner?" creations. The old, when in doubt go scrounge around in the refrigerator and make something up out of what you find. It was October, so we found some apples; we always have onions on hand; and the late September weather had been so lousy, we had some frozen 'country style' pork ribs that hadn't gotten barbecued. Hmmm... Dinner for two.
Since then, the basic approach has become a staple on the menu, and has been done with pork roasts, chops and cutlets, as well as ribs. They all work fine. It’s simple, quick, and just plain good.
here's what you'll need . . .
pork, chops, ribs ('country style', thick, with or without bones, cheap), cutlets, roast, . . .
Tabasco Sauce
Worcestershire sauce (Lea & Perrins, of course)
1 medium yellow onion
1 nice red, medium sized Macintosh apple (or your favorite type)
fresh ground Tellicherry
olive oil
white wine
Here's how you do it.
Though the original creation was done with some frozen ribs, this dish works much better with fresh meat – mainly because marinating will let the meat develop a layer of flavor independent of the liquid in which it’s cooked.
Start by giving both sides of the (in this case) chops a thorough rubbing with a liberal dose of Tabasco. Not so much that you end up with a pool on the plate, but enough to give a goodly reddish coat to both sides of the meat. Then take a fork and make three or four stabs into each side of the meat. Finally, douse the chops with Worcestershire sauce. You want a complete coat on the top of each chop (spread it around if you need to), and a good-sized puddle underneath. Let the meat marinate at room temperature for at least 30 minutes (but no more than an hour), turning every 10 minutes or so.
Meanwhile, do all the other stuff (set the table, make the coffee, feed the cat, prepare potatoes and vegetables, ...). And, chop the onion and the apple. The onion, you know how (or if not, check the earlier post).
As for the apple, well, yank the stem. Then cut it in half and cut each half in half and maybe in half again (all vertically, along the stem line). Carve out the core and the seeds from each piece and then chop them up into ½ inch or so chunks.
Coat the bottom of a baking dish with a generous layer of olive oil, and toss in the meat. Pour the marinade all over, sprinkle the onions around; sprinkle the apples on top; splash a little white wine over everything; and season with copious quantities of freshly ground (coarse, of course) Tellicherry black pepper.
Cover the baking dish with aluminum foil (crimp the edges to seal), and bake at around 350 ºF for at least 45 minutes. If you want to, you can let it go for up to 2 hours; after that you’ll have pork jerky – very tasty pork jerky, but . . .
We like to serve these chops (in fact, most pork dishes) with boiled potatoes and Corn O’Catherine, Apple Sauce and probably a salad. If you want, you can turn the cooking liquid into a sauce - just cook it down to half its volume and serve it on the side.
Friday, November 19, 2004
Thursday, November 18, 2004
Recipe: Corn O'Catherine
I guess we're on a keep it simple roll for the moment. So how about canned veggies? (We'll get into the whole frozen vs. canned another day.) Just because veggies start in a can is no reason they have to be dull and boring. Cathy invented this one to go with her baked pork chops, and it couldn't be simpler. But what a wonderful way to dress up a can of corn, and the plate to which it is served.
here's what you'll need . . .
1 can corn
2 -3 Tbsp. diced green bell pepper
2 -3 Tbsp. diced red bell pepper
(optional items, any or all: diced onion, sliced mushrooms, sliced black olives, chopped tomato)
fresh ground black pepper
(optional, a goodly sprinkle of ground turmeric amd/or ground cumin)
butter (a dab, a slab, whatever you dare)
Here's how you do it.
Dump the corn into a saucepan.
Whack up the other stuff.
Put it in the pot.
Cover. Warm gently for at least 20 minutes, or until done to your liking.
And they said cooking was tough . . .
here's what you'll need . . .
1 can corn
2 -3 Tbsp. diced green bell pepper
2 -3 Tbsp. diced red bell pepper
(optional items, any or all: diced onion, sliced mushrooms, sliced black olives, chopped tomato)
fresh ground black pepper
(optional, a goodly sprinkle of ground turmeric amd/or ground cumin)
butter (a dab, a slab, whatever you dare)
Here's how you do it.
Dump the corn into a saucepan.
Whack up the other stuff.
Put it in the pot.
Cover. Warm gently for at least 20 minutes, or until done to your liking.
And they said cooking was tough . . .
Sunday, November 14, 2004
Tip: Frozen foods
Cook frozen or cook fresh; DON'T THAW.
The reason is simple physical chemistry. At 32º F, when water changes from liquid to solid (or solid to liquid), it expands. Since all animal and plant cells are mostly water, a gradual change in temperature allows the water to expand, breaking down the cellular structure. The result is your food turns to mush. Most commercial ("flash") freezing processes work so quickly that the expansion is minimized, and the cell damage is also minimized. But if you then thaw that frozen item before cooking, you'll allow the expansion to rupture all the cell walls, and the cooked result will be mushy.
For home freezing, the best hope is that your freezer temperature is cold enough to freeze the food quickly. Most stand-alone freezers will do the job OK. But if your freezer, like mine, is the bottom (or top) of your refrigerator, and it's packed full to begin with, chances are your 'fresh frozen' food will be suitable for soups and stews, but not for elegant entree service.
If you must thaw before cooking, use your microwave. The more quickly the water can get through the state change, the less damage will be done.
The reason is simple physical chemistry. At 32º F, when water changes from liquid to solid (or solid to liquid), it expands. Since all animal and plant cells are mostly water, a gradual change in temperature allows the water to expand, breaking down the cellular structure. The result is your food turns to mush. Most commercial ("flash") freezing processes work so quickly that the expansion is minimized, and the cell damage is also minimized. But if you then thaw that frozen item before cooking, you'll allow the expansion to rupture all the cell walls, and the cooked result will be mushy.
For home freezing, the best hope is that your freezer temperature is cold enough to freeze the food quickly. Most stand-alone freezers will do the job OK. But if your freezer, like mine, is the bottom (or top) of your refrigerator, and it's packed full to begin with, chances are your 'fresh frozen' food will be suitable for soups and stews, but not for elegant entree service.
If you must thaw before cooking, use your microwave. The more quickly the water can get through the state change, the less damage will be done.
Tuesday, November 09, 2004
Recipe: Beef Stew
When I was a kid, beef stew always meant fat and gristle; I hated it. By the time I was in High school, Dinty Moore's had come along, and that I learned to like, though probably just because, like most prepared foods, it had enough salt in it to pickle an entire steer. In any case, I didn't experiment with beef stew again until well into my cooking experience. I think it was one of those 'mother of invention' deals - a camping trip with about 18 mouths to feed, including large adults and a horde of hungry kids. A bucket of stew sitting on the campfire seemed the way to go.
This is one of those 'couldn't possibly be easier' meals where the success of the dish is a function of attitude rather than culinary legerdemain. So, with only a couple of photos for reference, set your mind to 'plain, simple, natural,' and dive in . . .
here's what you'll need . . .
steak or a roast, not stew beef, about 1/3 lb per serving
carrots, at least one per serving
onion, about ½ per serving
celery, about ½ rib per serving
potatoes, at least one per serving, peeled if you must
tomatoes, one 14 oz. can per two servings or one fresh tomato per serving
turnip (or more typically, rutabaga), depends on size, two or three chunks per serving
red & green bell peppers, same as turnip two or three chunks of each per serving
mushrooms, 4 per serving
garlic (optional), one clove per lb. to flavor the meat, and/or a skewer-full to flavor the stew
green beans, wax beans, zucchini, summer squash, and/or other favorites
maybe a handful of ripe olives
white wine
water
1 or 2 bay leaves
salt
Tellicherry
Here's how you do it.
Buy a good quality roast or a steak, or three for your meat. Any cut of round will do nicely. Chuck steak will work, but only if you can find a really lean piece. Sirloins are OK, but tend to toughen up with the prolonged cooking of a stew. Tenderloins and filets will work, but it does seem a tad criminal to serve them in a stew.
Stay away from the prepackaged stew beef at your market, unless you know the butcher personally. Mostly, you'll never know what cut(s) of meat you're getting; you'll only be getting the scraps that were trimmed from something salable; it's always cut in chunks too large; and it may be several days old by the time they've got enough to shrink-wrap and put it out as stew beef. It only takes an extra few minutes for you to cut your own chunks. Invest the time.
Cut your steak into bite size chunks. Beef stew should be like Japanese food - no knife required (if a guest must cut a piece of food, the chef must commit seppuku!)
When your meat is all chunked, season it liberally with fresh ground Tellicherry. Use your fingers or the back of a spoon to gently tap the pepper into the surface of the meat, and then let it sit for 15 minutes or so before starting the cooking. Do not flour the meat!
While the meat is resting, whack up your other vegetables (except the turnip and potato, unless you want to keep them covered with cold water until it's time to toss them in - otherwise, they'll turn black and ugly!) Use the same bite-sized mindset that you held for your steak for everything in your stew, and you will be praised at the table (or log, if you're doing this over a campfire in the woods!)
So, dig out the stewpot, and get it hot. Pour a Tbsp. or two of olive oil into the hot pot (you want enough to roll around the bottom of the pan, but not enough for any 'depth'). If you wish, smash a clove of garlic with the side of your knife, remove the peel and toss the garlic into the hot oil. Move it around for a minute or so, just until it starts to brown, and then discard it. Toss in the meat. Watch out for the spits, and shake, swirl, stir, push to quickly sear the meat on all sides. You don't want to cook it, just to seal in the juices.
At this point, I like to add the mushroom chunks to the pot and cook them just long enough that they're about ready to give up their juices, about a minute - no more than two. You don't want them to actually start to give up the juices because the pan is hot enough that most of the juice will evaporate, and I like to incorporate it into the 'wholeness of the stew.' But I also like the way the mushrooms pick up some flavor from the hot pan. Or, you can just toss the mushrooms in later - you're choice, both good.
Now you need some liquid. Start with the white wine - a goodly slug into the bottom of the pan to deglaze it and cool it down a little. Give the bottom of the pan a scrape or two to loosen anything that's stuck, and swirl it all around. Let it bubble for a minute or three to cook off the alcohol.
If you're going to use fresh tomatoes, add some water now and put your tomatoes in later. But if you're using canned tomatoes, toss them in next, along with all their packing juices - liquid, you know - and stir everything around.
If you didn't do it before, cut up your potatoes and turnip. Always peel the turnip; only peel the potatoes if you must (for some unknowable aesthetic purpose). And, remember, bite size pieces . . .
Now toss everything in. If you're using any other canned vegetables (beans for example), be sure to add their packing juices as well. Add enough water to cover the contents of the pot to a depth of at least an inch - three would be better. Give a goodly grind of Tellicherry over the top surface, and add a little salt. If you've used any canned vegetables, make that a very little salt - there's already tons of it in those packing juices. Assuming you've got 4 - 6 servings of stew going, think in terms of maybe 1 tsp. of salt. Start with that in the palm of your hand and add a pinch to the pot for each potato and one pinch for all the turnip, and maybe one more pinch for the rest of the pot. If you've got any salt left, set it aside - you can add it later after you taste-test your creation.
If you wish, stick a skewer-full of garlic into the liquid to flavor the pot while it cooks. How many cloves depends on your tastes (and do peel them!). And keep in mind that if you already used garlic to flavor the meat, this will amplify that flavor. Usually, I'll do one or the other but not both. And if I do the skewer thing, I'll use one clove per serving, up to six - that's plenty for any sized batch. Don't break the bay leaves, just toss them in whole - they'll be easier to find and remove when you serve your stew.
So, turn the heat down to a gentle simmer, cover and cook for about 45 minutes. Get out your spoon, scoop up a piece of potato and some broth, let it cool way down, and taste it! If need be, add some more salt and/or pepper, and remove the garlic skewer if you used it (after all, enough is enough). Cover the pot and cook some more. It should be good in another 45 minutes or so, and it will continue to be good for the next three or four hours. If you need to wait longer than four hours, turn it off now and turn it back on an hour before serving.
This is one of those 'couldn't possibly be easier' meals where the success of the dish is a function of attitude rather than culinary legerdemain. So, with only a couple of photos for reference, set your mind to 'plain, simple, natural,' and dive in . . .
here's what you'll need . . .
steak or a roast, not stew beef, about 1/3 lb per serving
carrots, at least one per serving
onion, about ½ per serving
celery, about ½ rib per serving
potatoes, at least one per serving, peeled if you must
tomatoes, one 14 oz. can per two servings or one fresh tomato per serving
turnip (or more typically, rutabaga), depends on size, two or three chunks per serving
red & green bell peppers, same as turnip two or three chunks of each per serving
mushrooms, 4 per serving
garlic (optional), one clove per lb. to flavor the meat, and/or a skewer-full to flavor the stew
green beans, wax beans, zucchini, summer squash, and/or other favorites
maybe a handful of ripe olives
white wine
water
1 or 2 bay leaves
salt
Tellicherry
Here's how you do it.
Buy a good quality roast or a steak, or three for your meat. Any cut of round will do nicely. Chuck steak will work, but only if you can find a really lean piece. Sirloins are OK, but tend to toughen up with the prolonged cooking of a stew. Tenderloins and filets will work, but it does seem a tad criminal to serve them in a stew.
Stay away from the prepackaged stew beef at your market, unless you know the butcher personally. Mostly, you'll never know what cut(s) of meat you're getting; you'll only be getting the scraps that were trimmed from something salable; it's always cut in chunks too large; and it may be several days old by the time they've got enough to shrink-wrap and put it out as stew beef. It only takes an extra few minutes for you to cut your own chunks. Invest the time.
Cut your steak into bite size chunks. Beef stew should be like Japanese food - no knife required (if a guest must cut a piece of food, the chef must commit seppuku!)
When your meat is all chunked, season it liberally with fresh ground Tellicherry. Use your fingers or the back of a spoon to gently tap the pepper into the surface of the meat, and then let it sit for 15 minutes or so before starting the cooking. Do not flour the meat!
While the meat is resting, whack up your other vegetables (except the turnip and potato, unless you want to keep them covered with cold water until it's time to toss them in - otherwise, they'll turn black and ugly!) Use the same bite-sized mindset that you held for your steak for everything in your stew, and you will be praised at the table (or log, if you're doing this over a campfire in the woods!)
So, dig out the stewpot, and get it hot. Pour a Tbsp. or two of olive oil into the hot pot (you want enough to roll around the bottom of the pan, but not enough for any 'depth'). If you wish, smash a clove of garlic with the side of your knife, remove the peel and toss the garlic into the hot oil. Move it around for a minute or so, just until it starts to brown, and then discard it. Toss in the meat. Watch out for the spits, and shake, swirl, stir, push to quickly sear the meat on all sides. You don't want to cook it, just to seal in the juices.
At this point, I like to add the mushroom chunks to the pot and cook them just long enough that they're about ready to give up their juices, about a minute - no more than two. You don't want them to actually start to give up the juices because the pan is hot enough that most of the juice will evaporate, and I like to incorporate it into the 'wholeness of the stew.' But I also like the way the mushrooms pick up some flavor from the hot pan. Or, you can just toss the mushrooms in later - you're choice, both good.
Now you need some liquid. Start with the white wine - a goodly slug into the bottom of the pan to deglaze it and cool it down a little. Give the bottom of the pan a scrape or two to loosen anything that's stuck, and swirl it all around. Let it bubble for a minute or three to cook off the alcohol.
If you're going to use fresh tomatoes, add some water now and put your tomatoes in later. But if you're using canned tomatoes, toss them in next, along with all their packing juices - liquid, you know - and stir everything around.
If you didn't do it before, cut up your potatoes and turnip. Always peel the turnip; only peel the potatoes if you must (for some unknowable aesthetic purpose). And, remember, bite size pieces . . .
Now toss everything in. If you're using any other canned vegetables (beans for example), be sure to add their packing juices as well. Add enough water to cover the contents of the pot to a depth of at least an inch - three would be better. Give a goodly grind of Tellicherry over the top surface, and add a little salt. If you've used any canned vegetables, make that a very little salt - there's already tons of it in those packing juices. Assuming you've got 4 - 6 servings of stew going, think in terms of maybe 1 tsp. of salt. Start with that in the palm of your hand and add a pinch to the pot for each potato and one pinch for all the turnip, and maybe one more pinch for the rest of the pot. If you've got any salt left, set it aside - you can add it later after you taste-test your creation.
If you wish, stick a skewer-full of garlic into the liquid to flavor the pot while it cooks. How many cloves depends on your tastes (and do peel them!). And keep in mind that if you already used garlic to flavor the meat, this will amplify that flavor. Usually, I'll do one or the other but not both. And if I do the skewer thing, I'll use one clove per serving, up to six - that's plenty for any sized batch. Don't break the bay leaves, just toss them in whole - they'll be easier to find and remove when you serve your stew.
So, turn the heat down to a gentle simmer, cover and cook for about 45 minutes. Get out your spoon, scoop up a piece of potato and some broth, let it cool way down, and taste it! If need be, add some more salt and/or pepper, and remove the garlic skewer if you used it (after all, enough is enough). Cover the pot and cook some more. It should be good in another 45 minutes or so, and it will continue to be good for the next three or four hours. If you need to wait longer than four hours, turn it off now and turn it back on an hour before serving.
Friday, November 05, 2004
Recipe: Sautéed Filet of Sole
Whether for a traditional Friday night supper, or a light meal anytime, sautéed filet of sole (or whatever kind of fish your local fishmonger calls 'sole') is simple and delicious.
In the U.S. true 'Dover sole' is very hard to come by and very expensive, so most of the time, you'll end up with Flounder. But don't knock flounder. It's a wonderful, delicate white fish that lends itself to poaching, baking, or, as here, sautéing. We like to serve it with Cathy's mashed potatoes, sexy peas, and a salad.
The serving size here is limited by the diameter of your skillet. The filets must fit easily, without crowding or touching each other in the pan. Otherwise, they'll fall apart when you try to turn them. And like most fish dishes, these need to be eaten as soon as they come out of the pan. Yes, it's possible to keep one batch warm in the oven while you do a second batch; but only if you're fast. After even 10 minutes in the oven (at 200º F), well, you might as well have gone out for McSea burgers.
here's what you'll need . . .
filet of sole (1/4 to 1/3 lb. per person)
lemon(s)
milk
egg(s)
flour
bread crumbs
olive oil
Here's how you do it.
If you keep your eggs in the refrigerator, get one or two out at least two hours before preparing dinner. Eggs need to be at room temperature to make a good dipping mixture (or for almost any other use, as well).
About 20 -30 minutes before you want to start cooking, get the fish out of the refrigerator and wash it gently under cold running water. Drain the water off each piece and place them all in a shallow bowl. Pour some milk over the filets (just enough to barely cover them - the milk will be discarded, so there's no point in wasting any). Let the fish soak while you get everything else ready – about 10 - 15 minutes.
Spread out a couple of pieces of wax paper. Put flour on one piece, breadcrumbs on the other.
Gently blend an egg with a Tbsp. of cold water until you've got a nice golden egg wash (no froth, please).
Now grab a filet from the milk, very gently 'squeegee' off any extra milk (hold the filet at one end and wipe it down between your index and middle fingers.)
Dredge the filet in the flour, coating thoroughly on both sides. (Use the wax paper - lift one side, then the other to shake flour onto the filet. Pat gently, turn over and do the same on the other side.) Set aside each filet until you have them all floured. Try to not let them touch each other.
Now, put a large skillet on to heat up (somewhere just above medium).
Next, dip a floured filet into the egg wash (again, holding at one end, kind of drag it through on one side, then the other) until thoroughly coated.
Drain the excess egg off for a few seconds (no squeegee here),
and then dredge the filet in the breadcrumbs (use the wax paper, as before). Set aside (separated, as before) until you have them all breaded.
Pour a couple Tbsp. of olive oil into the hot skillet, swirl till it reaches fragrance, and gently place the filets in the pan (separated, as always). Immediately reduce the heat to something just under medium, count to 87 and then give the skillet a gentle shake or three to make sure the filets are not sticking to the bottom. Cook for about 2 minutes (or maybe 4, depends on your stove, pan, and preferences). The idea is to get the bottom side a 'crispy' light golden brown (the color of a perfect pancake).
Using a long bladed spatula (long enough to hold at least ¾ the length of a filet) underneath, and another spatula (long if you've got it, but 'normal' is ok for the top one), gently turn each filet.
When you've got them all turned over, squeeze the juice from ½ a lemon all over the tops of the filets. Don't 'squirt' it, you'll just dig holes in the breading; instead, dribble it, moving your arm in a circular motion around and around over the skillet. If you wish, grind some black pepper over the now slightly dampened filets. Cook till done, probably another 2 to 4 minutes.
Serve and eat immediately.
In the U.S. true 'Dover sole' is very hard to come by and very expensive, so most of the time, you'll end up with Flounder. But don't knock flounder. It's a wonderful, delicate white fish that lends itself to poaching, baking, or, as here, sautéing. We like to serve it with Cathy's mashed potatoes, sexy peas, and a salad.
The serving size here is limited by the diameter of your skillet. The filets must fit easily, without crowding or touching each other in the pan. Otherwise, they'll fall apart when you try to turn them. And like most fish dishes, these need to be eaten as soon as they come out of the pan. Yes, it's possible to keep one batch warm in the oven while you do a second batch; but only if you're fast. After even 10 minutes in the oven (at 200º F), well, you might as well have gone out for McSea burgers.
here's what you'll need . . .
filet of sole (1/4 to 1/3 lb. per person)
lemon(s)
milk
egg(s)
flour
bread crumbs
olive oil
Here's how you do it.
If you keep your eggs in the refrigerator, get one or two out at least two hours before preparing dinner. Eggs need to be at room temperature to make a good dipping mixture (or for almost any other use, as well).
About 20 -30 minutes before you want to start cooking, get the fish out of the refrigerator and wash it gently under cold running water. Drain the water off each piece and place them all in a shallow bowl. Pour some milk over the filets (just enough to barely cover them - the milk will be discarded, so there's no point in wasting any). Let the fish soak while you get everything else ready – about 10 - 15 minutes.
Spread out a couple of pieces of wax paper. Put flour on one piece, breadcrumbs on the other.
Gently blend an egg with a Tbsp. of cold water until you've got a nice golden egg wash (no froth, please).
Now grab a filet from the milk, very gently 'squeegee' off any extra milk (hold the filet at one end and wipe it down between your index and middle fingers.)
Dredge the filet in the flour, coating thoroughly on both sides. (Use the wax paper - lift one side, then the other to shake flour onto the filet. Pat gently, turn over and do the same on the other side.) Set aside each filet until you have them all floured. Try to not let them touch each other.
Now, put a large skillet on to heat up (somewhere just above medium).
Next, dip a floured filet into the egg wash (again, holding at one end, kind of drag it through on one side, then the other) until thoroughly coated.
Drain the excess egg off for a few seconds (no squeegee here),
and then dredge the filet in the breadcrumbs (use the wax paper, as before). Set aside (separated, as before) until you have them all breaded.
Pour a couple Tbsp. of olive oil into the hot skillet, swirl till it reaches fragrance, and gently place the filets in the pan (separated, as always). Immediately reduce the heat to something just under medium, count to 87 and then give the skillet a gentle shake or three to make sure the filets are not sticking to the bottom. Cook for about 2 minutes (or maybe 4, depends on your stove, pan, and preferences). The idea is to get the bottom side a 'crispy' light golden brown (the color of a perfect pancake).
Using a long bladed spatula (long enough to hold at least ¾ the length of a filet) underneath, and another spatula (long if you've got it, but 'normal' is ok for the top one), gently turn each filet.
When you've got them all turned over, squeeze the juice from ½ a lemon all over the tops of the filets. Don't 'squirt' it, you'll just dig holes in the breading; instead, dribble it, moving your arm in a circular motion around and around over the skillet. If you wish, grind some black pepper over the now slightly dampened filets. Cook till done, probably another 2 to 4 minutes.
Serve and eat immediately.
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