Last night, at the request of my wife, I made stuffed peppers. I've stuffed a lot of peppers in my life, most of them rather conventionally. More recently, I've been filling them with more of a Greek-inspired blend of lamb and beef, topping them with a similarly-influenced white sauce. I needed to find a new twist on this simple dish, and so I decided to take a whirl at filling the peppers with more of a Cajun inspired stuffing. I used the basic idea of dirty rice to pave the way.
I don't keep chicken livers around, and so my take on this dish is less than authentic, but the spirit was there. The rice was mixed with ground beef, ground mustard, cumin, 5 different kinds of pepper, a bit of breadcrumbs, and sauteed onion. I figured the bell pepper on the outside would add enough of its own flavor, so I did not add that into the mix. The peppers I softened up a bit in advance with a short bake prior to filling.
Once I tasted the rice, rich with all those peppery flavors, I knew I'd need something as a contrast. I opted to top the filled peppers with a simple mixture of tomato paste, apple cider vinegar, salt, and a dash of prepared mustard. The slightly sweet/sour combination was a good counterbalance, and I'm really glad I decided to add it.
This is simple food. Other than the rice, the prep and cook time went remarkably fast, and I was able to cobble this together in rather little time. The best thing about stuffing peppers, to my mind, is how well they hold up as leftovers. About half went into the freezer, a couple were eaten, and couple are in the fridge to make tonight a nice, simple night of reheating.
The verdict
Make no mistake - this was a spicy little dish! Just the right amount of "burn" on the lips and front of the tongue to be interesting, but not enough to overwhelm. But that tomato paste topping was spot on! I would most likely tone this down a wee bit for company (assuming they were not into spicy foods), but for us, it was just tasty and satisfying. We had a splash of leftover wine that was still good - Bonarda, if I recall correctly - and I had a bit of that as an afterthought. Not the best thing for the dish, but it was fine.
Tuesday, January 24, 2012
Thursday, January 19, 2012
Bummer
Tonight, I had hoped to tap into some visceral part of my being, and I had planned on doing this by grilling in the single-digit temperatures we are "enjoying" here in Chicago tonight. I wanted to step into the cold, and smell the meat on the grill with the brace of frigid air upon my cheeks. I somehow envisioned the triggering of an ancestral memory, the call of the ages whispering through the flames, tethering me beyond the ages to Neanderthal and Cro Magnon, conjuring the ghosts of thousands of years past. I wanted to reach back to them, to sense what it might have been like after a hunt in the dead of winter, the freshly-slain beast upon a spit above a fire still mysterious, still magical. With all that has changed through human (and hominid) history, the smell of cooking meat surely hasn't, right?
Alas, someone had done me the "favor" of pushing my grill cover partway through the handle of my grill, and the recent snow melted into it. About a half gallon of water had frozen beneath that handle, and I was left with no other choice: the broiler. As much as the call of the wild surged through my bones, there was a more immediate call tonight. I spent much of the day thinking about the massive, magnificent porterhouse steaks squatting on all the real estate our dinner plates could afford, and there was no way I was putting this off until tomorrow.
I do have to tip my hat in some small way to my dad. He did some pretty cool things under the broiler at home when I was a kid, at least I remember a few such occasions in the times when it was just the two of us living in whatever place he had rented at the time. I also need to give due credit to my Aunt Betty, who also did some rather nifty work with the broiler and a piece of beef in the many years I lived in her home. Bottom line: I know the magic you can do with the broiler, and I'm not afraid to use it!
I use a wire cooling rack and a Pyrex dish for such affairs, skipping the old-school metal broiling pans. It is a contraption I simply can't part with, since it has resulted in any number of terrific meals in my lifetime. The steaks were so big tonight that I had to place a cookie sheet underneath the rig to catch any incidental fat dripping. The steaks received a simple application of garlic salt, pepper, and some various herbs and spices - nothing fancy, since it was the meat I was interested in.
A special treat for me tonight was having my daughter assist me in getting some baked potatoes ready for the oven after I picked her up from daycare. She helped me wash, prick, and wrap the potatoes before they went under the flames. I sincerely hope that the make-believe cooking she relishes so much - and does constantly - stays with her as she grows up. I will gladly share the kitchen with her if her interest remains, and look forward to seeing what she comes up with, teaching her what I can, and enjoying the time together doing what I fear far too many families don't share any more; time together preparing and eating meals at home.
So, while part of the night was a bummer (the part where I didn't get to freeze my tail off at the grill), in the end, I am more than satisfied.
The verdict
You know, you really can't go wrong with a good porterhouse. My wife was told she needed to up her iron intake recently, so that was a good enough excuse for me to splurge on these puppies. I did have to teach her about the little secret of a porterhouse - the really tender meat is typically on the "small side!" She did appreciate the advice, and seemed more than content with the meal. I lured her in before dinner was done with the smell of searing beef, and that smell still lingers throughout the house as I write this.
You also can't go wrong with a simple baked potato with a good steak, can you? Spinach: an afterthought, but a good one. I figured she'd get a good boost of iron that way.
I popped open a bottle of Bonarda to go along with the meal. It was a tad sweeter than I'd expected, but still worked pretty well, taking an appropriate back seat to the main dish as I had wished. I wanted to savor the simplicity of the steak, and I did.
Maybe I didn't get to appreciate the cold tonight. Maybe I didn't get to bond with the ancestors. But I did get a delicious dinner and the company of my awesome family. My pug got the bonus of a scrap or two as well, and maybe in some small way I did get to reach back in time and get a small taste of what it was like. Perhaps not the part about braving the elements for survival and cooking over a flame, but the part of history where dogs became domesticated. I know if I was a pooch, I'd have come by for the smell, begged for the scraps, and stayed around for the company.
Alas, someone had done me the "favor" of pushing my grill cover partway through the handle of my grill, and the recent snow melted into it. About a half gallon of water had frozen beneath that handle, and I was left with no other choice: the broiler. As much as the call of the wild surged through my bones, there was a more immediate call tonight. I spent much of the day thinking about the massive, magnificent porterhouse steaks squatting on all the real estate our dinner plates could afford, and there was no way I was putting this off until tomorrow.
I do have to tip my hat in some small way to my dad. He did some pretty cool things under the broiler at home when I was a kid, at least I remember a few such occasions in the times when it was just the two of us living in whatever place he had rented at the time. I also need to give due credit to my Aunt Betty, who also did some rather nifty work with the broiler and a piece of beef in the many years I lived in her home. Bottom line: I know the magic you can do with the broiler, and I'm not afraid to use it!
I use a wire cooling rack and a Pyrex dish for such affairs, skipping the old-school metal broiling pans. It is a contraption I simply can't part with, since it has resulted in any number of terrific meals in my lifetime. The steaks were so big tonight that I had to place a cookie sheet underneath the rig to catch any incidental fat dripping. The steaks received a simple application of garlic salt, pepper, and some various herbs and spices - nothing fancy, since it was the meat I was interested in.
A special treat for me tonight was having my daughter assist me in getting some baked potatoes ready for the oven after I picked her up from daycare. She helped me wash, prick, and wrap the potatoes before they went under the flames. I sincerely hope that the make-believe cooking she relishes so much - and does constantly - stays with her as she grows up. I will gladly share the kitchen with her if her interest remains, and look forward to seeing what she comes up with, teaching her what I can, and enjoying the time together doing what I fear far too many families don't share any more; time together preparing and eating meals at home.
So, while part of the night was a bummer (the part where I didn't get to freeze my tail off at the grill), in the end, I am more than satisfied.
The verdict
You know, you really can't go wrong with a good porterhouse. My wife was told she needed to up her iron intake recently, so that was a good enough excuse for me to splurge on these puppies. I did have to teach her about the little secret of a porterhouse - the really tender meat is typically on the "small side!" She did appreciate the advice, and seemed more than content with the meal. I lured her in before dinner was done with the smell of searing beef, and that smell still lingers throughout the house as I write this.
You also can't go wrong with a simple baked potato with a good steak, can you? Spinach: an afterthought, but a good one. I figured she'd get a good boost of iron that way.
I popped open a bottle of Bonarda to go along with the meal. It was a tad sweeter than I'd expected, but still worked pretty well, taking an appropriate back seat to the main dish as I had wished. I wanted to savor the simplicity of the steak, and I did.
Maybe I didn't get to appreciate the cold tonight. Maybe I didn't get to bond with the ancestors. But I did get a delicious dinner and the company of my awesome family. My pug got the bonus of a scrap or two as well, and maybe in some small way I did get to reach back in time and get a small taste of what it was like. Perhaps not the part about braving the elements for survival and cooking over a flame, but the part of history where dogs became domesticated. I know if I was a pooch, I'd have come by for the smell, begged for the scraps, and stayed around for the company.
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
The comfort of duck fat
The house next to ours burned today. The family lost a pet. The smell of smoke is heavy in our building, maybe less perceptibly so for others who live here, but I'm particularly sensitive to the smell of a burned home. When I was in high school, the house I lived in (with my aunt, uncle, and cousins), burned. We all survived, we rebuilt, we moved forward. But fires change you when they hit you so directly, or at least I believe they do.
I was planning on using the duck fat from the duck I made a few days ago as part of a "breakfast for dinner" this week already, and tonight was probably the perfect night to do so. I needed something comforting, and I was also hoping for some aromas that would help mask the smoke smell. The hash browns I made certainly helped, and the loose homemade sausage pretty well sealed the deal. Scrambled eggs - purely incidental. This was no fancy meal, no gourmet effort. It was about as pedestrian a cooking session as I ever have; I can cook breakfast blindfolded (or at least I'd like to believe I can). The duck fat was pure luxury, however; simply heavenly. It's amazing how a single ingredient can so easily transform a dish.
Right now, the smells of dinner are beginning to fade, and the smells from next door starting to reemerge. I have no problem saying that I'm glad it wasn't our home, because I know perfectly well what it means for the family/families enduring the pain and shock right now. I wish I could have brought them some comfort tonight. Sadly, I don't even know them. We do know many of our neighbors, which I understand is increasingly unusual in America. That's too bad for most of us, and I consider myself lucky to have such great folks living in our condo building. Just as the comfort of a good meal can help us deal with life's difficulties, the comfort of a rich social network can ease or pain or bring us relief us when we need it most (a real network - a local fabric of ties to others; I love me some Facebook, but it is no substitute for conversation in person).
The verdict
For the food, well, the sausage was tasty, but not especially great. The eggs were hardly worth mentioning (I make a nice, fluffy scrambled egg, and I'm fussy about them, but still, it's just a scrambled egg). The hash browns were heavenly, velvety, a bit smoky and certainly rich, with just enough kick from the cayenne and sharp paprika to make us take notice.
But tonight, it was the comfort of a family I love, and a special appreciation for my aging, deaf, rather dense, but always lovable pug that made the meal meaningful. My thoughts are with those who lost so much today, and my thanks are with the Chicago Fire Department for keeping our home safe today. I would love to go and cook for one of the stations someday, just as a small token of gratitude.
Love your family, love your pets, know your neighbors as much as you can, stay safe, and appreciate what you have, folks.
I was planning on using the duck fat from the duck I made a few days ago as part of a "breakfast for dinner" this week already, and tonight was probably the perfect night to do so. I needed something comforting, and I was also hoping for some aromas that would help mask the smoke smell. The hash browns I made certainly helped, and the loose homemade sausage pretty well sealed the deal. Scrambled eggs - purely incidental. This was no fancy meal, no gourmet effort. It was about as pedestrian a cooking session as I ever have; I can cook breakfast blindfolded (or at least I'd like to believe I can). The duck fat was pure luxury, however; simply heavenly. It's amazing how a single ingredient can so easily transform a dish.
Right now, the smells of dinner are beginning to fade, and the smells from next door starting to reemerge. I have no problem saying that I'm glad it wasn't our home, because I know perfectly well what it means for the family/families enduring the pain and shock right now. I wish I could have brought them some comfort tonight. Sadly, I don't even know them. We do know many of our neighbors, which I understand is increasingly unusual in America. That's too bad for most of us, and I consider myself lucky to have such great folks living in our condo building. Just as the comfort of a good meal can help us deal with life's difficulties, the comfort of a rich social network can ease or pain or bring us relief us when we need it most (a real network - a local fabric of ties to others; I love me some Facebook, but it is no substitute for conversation in person).
The verdict
For the food, well, the sausage was tasty, but not especially great. The eggs were hardly worth mentioning (I make a nice, fluffy scrambled egg, and I'm fussy about them, but still, it's just a scrambled egg). The hash browns were heavenly, velvety, a bit smoky and certainly rich, with just enough kick from the cayenne and sharp paprika to make us take notice.
But tonight, it was the comfort of a family I love, and a special appreciation for my aging, deaf, rather dense, but always lovable pug that made the meal meaningful. My thoughts are with those who lost so much today, and my thanks are with the Chicago Fire Department for keeping our home safe today. I would love to go and cook for one of the stations someday, just as a small token of gratitude.
Love your family, love your pets, know your neighbors as much as you can, stay safe, and appreciate what you have, folks.
Sunday, January 8, 2012
Duck
I haven't cooked duck in a while. Entirely too long, in fact. As the holidays faded, the sales began, and our local grocery store cut the price on duck pretty sharply on Christmas Eve, so I picked one up and tossed it in the freezer. It was ridiculously cheap, really.
My past efforts cooking duck have been mixed, and prior to this evening, I'd never had crispy-skin nirvana. I combed the internet, and found a few entries from other folks that suggested a nice low and slow start followed by a blast at the end (I'd done this before) with a generous scoring of the skin (also tried before). I was willing to sacrifice juicy meat for crispy skin this time around, but was pleasantly surprised to have reasonably moist meat with the crispy skin. But the real bonus was the glaze. I did an adaptation that ended up using honey, soy sauce, liquid smoke (yes, I'm a fanatical user of the stuff), hot sauce, and a hint of cinnamon and garlic salt.
The duck cooked for about 4 hours, with frequent flipping to keep the fat draining. I have saved that fat, and am looking forward to making a special potato dish with it in the near future. Once it was nearly done, the final 15 minutes saw the heat upped (first to 425 to get a golden and crispy skin, and then a flash for about 5 minutes under the broiler with the reduced glaze generously applied).
I served this with a wild/brown rice mix sauteed with garlic, olive oil, a hint of salt/pepper, and a fair helping of peas. I should note that I put in over 6 cloves of garlic, and I note this because a friend of mine noted on Facebook recently that she felt this was an excessive quantity of garlic. I did it to prove a point, I suppose, but mostly because the rice needed that much to taste good, plain and simple!
My wife brought home a bottle of NoCo Pinot Noir (thanks to the folks at In Fine Spirits for the recommendation). Nice. Simple. Dinner.
The Verdict
My wife's quote was, I believe, "I have afterglow from this dinner." I agree. The wine was the perfect pairing. The rice was the right texture and great complement for the duck. And the duck - wow. I wish I had another on hand. There is enough around for dinner tomorrow, probably not as good, but who cares! In the dead of winter, a bit of a tad-gamier taste is just the thing to break up the monotony.
My past efforts cooking duck have been mixed, and prior to this evening, I'd never had crispy-skin nirvana. I combed the internet, and found a few entries from other folks that suggested a nice low and slow start followed by a blast at the end (I'd done this before) with a generous scoring of the skin (also tried before). I was willing to sacrifice juicy meat for crispy skin this time around, but was pleasantly surprised to have reasonably moist meat with the crispy skin. But the real bonus was the glaze. I did an adaptation that ended up using honey, soy sauce, liquid smoke (yes, I'm a fanatical user of the stuff), hot sauce, and a hint of cinnamon and garlic salt.
The duck cooked for about 4 hours, with frequent flipping to keep the fat draining. I have saved that fat, and am looking forward to making a special potato dish with it in the near future. Once it was nearly done, the final 15 minutes saw the heat upped (first to 425 to get a golden and crispy skin, and then a flash for about 5 minutes under the broiler with the reduced glaze generously applied).
I served this with a wild/brown rice mix sauteed with garlic, olive oil, a hint of salt/pepper, and a fair helping of peas. I should note that I put in over 6 cloves of garlic, and I note this because a friend of mine noted on Facebook recently that she felt this was an excessive quantity of garlic. I did it to prove a point, I suppose, but mostly because the rice needed that much to taste good, plain and simple!
My wife brought home a bottle of NoCo Pinot Noir (thanks to the folks at In Fine Spirits for the recommendation). Nice. Simple. Dinner.
The Verdict
My wife's quote was, I believe, "I have afterglow from this dinner." I agree. The wine was the perfect pairing. The rice was the right texture and great complement for the duck. And the duck - wow. I wish I had another on hand. There is enough around for dinner tomorrow, probably not as good, but who cares! In the dead of winter, a bit of a tad-gamier taste is just the thing to break up the monotony.
Monday, January 2, 2012
Pork and Pierogi
Pork loin chops are frankly just a bit too lean for any kind of good slow-cooking, but are wonderful for a good breading and pan-frying. Tonight, I wanted to make them in a way I hadn't tried before, so I figured a good, logical way to make this work was to bring some mustard to the plate. I wanted it to permeate the dinner, so I figured why not add it at the source and not after the fact, and incorporate it into the breading process.
I'm not much for sharing a "recipe" (perhaps because I generally don't look at them much), but this one is simple enough to share at least the basics, and worth me doing so in case I decide to give it another whirl.
I brought out the basics - the flour, eggs, and breadcrumbs - and while I usually add flavor into the dry stations, I decided this time to add a bit to all 3. I pretty well always add a bit of salt and ground pepper to the flour. Done. And I always keep unseasoned breadcrumbs around. You never know what you are going to cook, right? So why keep only some cardboard tube of Italian seasoned stuff on hand? I mean, the seasonings are likely old, and someone else's idea of "good," to boot. I added some ground mustard, ground cumin, and onion powder to mine tonight, and that combination would have failed in the face of basil and who knows what else in the usual mix. To the egg, I added some prepared spicy brown mustard (although I'd considered a spicy Dijon I had on hand, too).
The loin chops were a bit thick on the cut (typically we pick up the big loin and I cut my own at home; this time I was relying on the local grocery store), so I butterflied them, gave them a light pounding, breading, and bath in the oil until "light-golden-brown-and-delicious." It is important to watch the heat with such lean meat; too much, and you get brown and under-cook, too little, and you may get a juicy middle with a charred outside. I suppose I mention this for those who fear frying foods. Most of the oil stays behind if you are doing it right, folks - don't fear the vegetable oil!
I confess that part of the motivation for cooking the pork was to have something (other than kielbasa) to go along with the frozen pierogi I had picked up last week. I'm a sucker for those things, and have long considered them quick comfort food. This batch was filled with a spinach and feta blend, something a bit unusual, but really pretty tasty. I think I may need to step up my game (on a night when I have more time for prep work) and make some from scratch, but time is what it is. I added in some spinach to round out the meal, and it ended up being a nice, simple way to spend the first Monday of 2012.
The verdict
Simple and tasty. I'm a sucker for crispy pierogi cooked in butter any day, but served alongside some juicy pork warmed my soul as much as my belly. The cumin really drew the mustard flavors up through the breading. I think I might consider a whipped goat cheese alongside this next time I make it. I couldn't help but think that it would have been a nice addition.
Tonight was one of many recently where I had thought about opening a bottle of wine for myself to enjoy with dinner. My wife is pregnant, and I'm trying to be supportive of her abstinence. (But man, I sure do miss the grape!) That said, I'm not really sure what I would have opened tonight. If you have bothered to read this, I'd love suggestions.
I'm not much for sharing a "recipe" (perhaps because I generally don't look at them much), but this one is simple enough to share at least the basics, and worth me doing so in case I decide to give it another whirl.
I brought out the basics - the flour, eggs, and breadcrumbs - and while I usually add flavor into the dry stations, I decided this time to add a bit to all 3. I pretty well always add a bit of salt and ground pepper to the flour. Done. And I always keep unseasoned breadcrumbs around. You never know what you are going to cook, right? So why keep only some cardboard tube of Italian seasoned stuff on hand? I mean, the seasonings are likely old, and someone else's idea of "good," to boot. I added some ground mustard, ground cumin, and onion powder to mine tonight, and that combination would have failed in the face of basil and who knows what else in the usual mix. To the egg, I added some prepared spicy brown mustard (although I'd considered a spicy Dijon I had on hand, too).
The loin chops were a bit thick on the cut (typically we pick up the big loin and I cut my own at home; this time I was relying on the local grocery store), so I butterflied them, gave them a light pounding, breading, and bath in the oil until "light-golden-brown-and-delicious." It is important to watch the heat with such lean meat; too much, and you get brown and under-cook, too little, and you may get a juicy middle with a charred outside. I suppose I mention this for those who fear frying foods. Most of the oil stays behind if you are doing it right, folks - don't fear the vegetable oil!
I confess that part of the motivation for cooking the pork was to have something (other than kielbasa) to go along with the frozen pierogi I had picked up last week. I'm a sucker for those things, and have long considered them quick comfort food. This batch was filled with a spinach and feta blend, something a bit unusual, but really pretty tasty. I think I may need to step up my game (on a night when I have more time for prep work) and make some from scratch, but time is what it is. I added in some spinach to round out the meal, and it ended up being a nice, simple way to spend the first Monday of 2012.
The verdict
Simple and tasty. I'm a sucker for crispy pierogi cooked in butter any day, but served alongside some juicy pork warmed my soul as much as my belly. The cumin really drew the mustard flavors up through the breading. I think I might consider a whipped goat cheese alongside this next time I make it. I couldn't help but think that it would have been a nice addition.
Tonight was one of many recently where I had thought about opening a bottle of wine for myself to enjoy with dinner. My wife is pregnant, and I'm trying to be supportive of her abstinence. (But man, I sure do miss the grape!) That said, I'm not really sure what I would have opened tonight. If you have bothered to read this, I'd love suggestions.
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