Braised Pork Empanadas

Once again, I fell off the charts for way too long writing about dinner. I am offering this one with some ambivalence, but at least I’m dusting off my space a bit and adding something – anything – once again.

My wife and I are hoping to sell our condo so we can buy a house. That has meant a good bit of legwork de-cluttering our current home, and I wanted to make sure that any remaining items in our chest freezer got used up sooner rather than later to insure we didn't have to deal with any substantial quantities of perishables down the road. I had a couple of smaller pork roasts left, and braised them in the crock pot for much of the day, half-submerged in apple juice with a couple of apples and a couple of pears, some cinnamon, a small touch of chili powder, and a bit of honey over the top. Thankfully, my wife was able to occasionally “baste” the meat during the day, and the pork was perfect when I got home.

As before, when I made empanadas, I used frozen shells. I still haven’t taken the opportunity to make my own from scratch, and hope I will next time, but the premade offering from Goya is really rather nice. I coarsely chopped the pork and added about a cup of the juice to it, leaving the rest of the juice and the fruit for later. Once cooled a bit, I assembled the empanadas and set them aside.

I removed some of the peel from the fruit and added a few bananas to it, along with a bit of applesauce I had (apple-banana, which my daughters tend to not eat from the variety packs). I mashed this up and let it chill. I then strained much of the liquid from the crock pot into a sauce pan, reserving about a quarter cup, which I then mixed with some corn starch. I began reducing the juice, added my corn starch slurry, a hint of honey and vanilla sugar (yes, I keep a storage container with sugar and a couple of vanilla beans on hand at all times), along with a bit of orange juice, apple cider vinegar, cinnamon, and nutmeg. I kept this simmering and reducing while I cooked the empanadas.

For the empanadas, I fried them in a 50/50 mix of peanut and olive oil. Since they don’t really need high heat, this works nicely, and adds a great flavor to boot.

The verdict

3 out of 4 of us really enjoyed this meal. Our younger daughter reluctantly, but ultimate ate and seemed to like this. My wife went nuts for the sauce. I was particularly pleased with the mellow apple-cinnamon tones in the pork, and the juiciness and tenderness of the meat. Since I made both roasts, and didn't have enough dough for more empanadas, I’ll make something else with that extra meat in a day or so (probably some nice tacos!). The pork worked well here, but on its own would have done well with just some good barbecue sauce, frankly. I really like the apple/banana sauce as a side. It is nice, every now and then, to have some fruits in place of veggies at dinner time, especially when it complements the meal so well.

Our older daughter decided to be stubborn. While she eventually acquiesced and tried the pork, she basically skipped dinner. Sometimes, we win, sometimes we don’t. It confounds me that she will eat a wide variety of vegetables (heck, broccoli is her favorite), but beyond applesauce, we cannot seem to get this child to appreciate fruit. I suppose I may have to find some sneakier ways to get her to try fruits in the future, but on this night, I failed.

While de-cluttering is not really much fun, it can be rewarding. We have been thrilled to clean out closets and drawers, knowing that so many gently-used items will find another life through donation. We have purged books that each of us have moved multiple times over a decade or more, books that really should have been passed along years ago. We find ourselves thinking more and more about what is important, and when we have a meal like this that removes from our larder something we don’t want to transport, we gain a nice memory, a new dish to use again in the future, and in this case, a hope – a hope that someday both our daughters will reflect back on our time sharing meals and NOT remember the times they threw a fit because something was new, or different, or not a favorite. We are building the last of our memories in the home where each of our girls has thus-far lived exclusively. I probably should make sure that I fill some of the remaining dinner times with more mac and cheese (they will tell you, mine is the best), more ravioli, and more PB&J and grilled cheese for lunch on the weekend. Oh, and broccoli. Definitely more broccoli.

Lamb and Pork with Yogurt Mint Sauce

I had planned to offer up some post-holiday entries. Alas, post-holiday has gone on nearly a month, and much good eating is past, much of that blog-worthy, but time has a way of keeping me from this whole blogging endeavor. Tonight, I had to write at least a little something, with the year already three weeks deep, and this meal was certainly worthwhile. I had planned to offer up something about beef barley soup made with the bones from our Christmas Eve dinner, too. Instead, I simply added a comment to that blog post, so if you are interested in what I did, I copied and pasted my reply to a Facebook request I'd had for that follow up explaining the basics of what I ended up making.

Tonight was an interesting night. Our older daughter was in a bit of a "mood," and frankly was trying our collective patience. Getting into cooking mode was a great escape, and I dug in after we all settled into the warmth of our home after a chilly day, picking everyone up, and a quick trip to the grocery store to get a few things I'd forgotten in the weekend shop.  I combined some ground lamb and ground pork with re-hydrated onions (I forgot the onions even on the second trip), salt, pepper, a bit of dill, dried mint, dried cilantro, a really small dash of nutmeg, and a generous addition of za'atar from a wonderful Middle Eastern grocery/bakery nearby in our 'hood. Za'atar is great to have around in general, and I have used it on grilled chicken in the past as well. It makes for a quick grab from the spice rack, and adds a great deal of flavor in a hurry. (Side note: I wrote about using za'atar in a previous post about my attempt at making kefta)

I formed the meat mixture into oblong, flattened meatballs and sauteed them in some olive oil, getting a nice crispy bit of brown on the outside.  I made a bit of plain orzo to serve on the side, which was a great introduction to pasta for our little one. She is feeding herself more and more now, and she negotiated getting the orzo into her mouth with greater ease than I'd have imagined possible.  I did take a shortcut on one front. We keep some nice pouches of quick lentils-in-sauce on hand that we pick up from Costco from time to time, and with a dollop of yogurt, they are just amazing. As I've noted before, I try hard to get good meals on the table as fast as I can on weeknights, so such shortcuts are necessary, but don't have to come at the expense of taste and nutritional value. 

The crowning glory was a quick yogurt-mint sauce. The big plus from the grocery trip was grabbing some fresh mint. I like to keep somewhat bigger pieces of mint when I make this, so a quick chiffonade did the trick, along with a couple of cloves of minced garlic, a splash of lemon juice, salt, and pepper (and of course the yogurt). It always amazes me how simple additions like a nice sauce can transform a meal, and so many yogurt sauces are so easy to make, it's shame I don't make them more often.

The Verdict

I was so glad to dig into this meal. The smell of the kitchen was just intoxicating tonight, and my anticipation had been building all day for this meal (well, all week, really). It did not disappoint! The meat was flavorful and juicy, and the bit of crispy brown had that kind of umami vibe going on; that's the best way I can describe it. The yogurt-mint sauce was as good as I've ever made it, pretty well nailing the proportions. I sometimes go too far with the garlic or lemon juice and have to adjust, rarely getting it this good. I kept the orzo plain, and used it to mix in the sauce from the lentils and the stray yogurt on my plate. 

This meal was a complete success, and I can't wait to make it again.

As for the little ones: 
Some yogurt sauce dripped into the avocado we were feeding to our younger daughter along with her orzo, and I decided to just go ahead and feed it to her anyway. She liked it so much, I even added a bit more for her, and for the first time in a while, she ended up polishing off an entire half an avocado. I am going to go ahead and guess that it was baby-approved. The real delight was, after our older daughter finished up with her "mood attack," and finally settled in to eat, she ended up eating a really nice portion of the meat (for a change). She had hers sans sauce, and she passed on the lentils, opting instead for her usual side of green peas. The orzo was a universal hit; no surprise in our carb-loving family.

We will have at this meal again tomorrow as leftovers, and I'm thinking about opening up some wine for the adventure. If you'd like to make any suggestions, feel free to comment!

Wednesday is Prince Spaghetti Day...

As implied in my last post, my mind has been flashing memories of my youth at a pretty steady pace lately, with so many friends still contending with the aftermath of Sandy back east. It was not completely by happenstance that I chose Wednesday as the day to use the crock pot to make something of a "Sunday Gravy," obviously not on a Sunday, but because I so warmly remember seeing advertisements for Prince spaghetti all over the airwaves as a young boy in NJ. Granted, the commercial is supposed to be set on the north end of Boston, but somehow the imagery reminds me still, more generically, of nearly any tenement building in a large city in the northeast, and by association, the images remind me of NY, or at least the kind of hazy and faded memory of NY that I hearken back to in the nostalgic part of my brain.

More importantly, the ad reminds me of how, in my neighborhood, calling kids in for dinner was commonplace. At any given moment, you'd hear moms or siblings yelling, "Willy [yeah, I had to endure that nickname], time for supper." Or dinner. Or whatever a family called it. We'd hear it, and the game we were all playing would either realign to adjust for those called away, or would simply dissipate as the critical mass dwindled to the few who hadn't yet been called in. By urban standards, our yards were luxuriously large in the north Jersey suburbs, but really, the block where I spent most of my youth was compact enough that no one was really ever out of earshot of their own home. I suppose there is a part of me that mourns the idea that my daughters might not get to experience the call to dinner that was so familiar to me and to my friends growing up, in part because I doubt we'd ever have that luxury in our densely urban neighborhood, but more so because it seems that we have reached a point where the cell phone, the text message, or some other digital beacon has taken the place of a good set of lungs when rounding up the family these days. 

Dinner, tonight, was a joy to cook, and the prep this morning was incredibly simple. I had a bony, cheap cut of beef and a lovely, but small pork tenderloin roast defrosted. Both went into the crock pot along with canned tomatoes, tomato sauce, tomato paste, garlic, salt, pepper, and a nice dose of herbs (mostly basil, oregano, and parsley today). I copped out on cutting up an onion, and just added a bit of onion powder today, mostly out of a concern for time (I was too persnickety about getting the garlic cut up to allow me the time to hack at an onion). I let this cook all day, and since it was a rather large batch, decided I'd keep my meatballs completely separate from the process. And for those who care, I did add a tiny dash of sugar, but I was on the fence about it. I know some folks insist that it is essential, and others consider it an abomination. For me, since I'm not Italian by heritage, I have no loyalties, and just cook as the spirit moves me.

Once home from work, I made up the meatballs. I kept them simple - beef only, some breadcrumbs (wish I'd had more on hand, but I made it work), eggs, herbs, and a healthy dose of parmesan cheese added in. I baked the meatballs, and made sure I'd have plenty to freeze along with the sauce for a week or so down the road, and to make sure we'd have enough for leftovers tomorrow as well. I was craving the simplicity of spaghetti (and not some other pasta shape; I think the commercial really got to me, but it was not Prince brand), but ended up mixing in a small bit of linguine I had opened as well.

The Verdict

(I really need to take pics on the white or red plates;
 the yellow does NOT photograph well)

Writing about spaghetti and meatballs is nor really an earth-shattering idea. Yes, the meal was absolutely delicious. You just can't rush a really good sauce, and so the slow cooker does wonders for a deep, flavorful meat sauce like this. The strands of tender meat that melt in the mouth, bathed in an herb-y tomato base are so comforting, and the somewhat saltier and chewier meatballs on the side such a delightful contrast. I have not had nearly enough wine lately, and was thrilled to find a bottle of Brunello di Montalcino in our stash. It was a great treat with this particular dinner.

So, again tonight, I let my mind drift back to my youth, to the turf of my teens (and younger), to old friends, and to old ways. I recalled a lunch at my friend Phil Mastronardi's house, and how, between his mom and grandmother, I could barely walk away from the meal. I remembered several meals at the homes of friends in the neighborhood, including a fair number at Andrew Lange's house, where his mom made some traditional German meals that I have still yet to find the courage to try to recreate in my own kitchen.  I recalled playing kick the can with my buds on 4th Ave in Westwood. I found my mind walking to any number of my old schools on brisk days like today, the smell of leaves as I crunched them underfoot, and the sound of the train whistle bringing parents back from work in "The City." And again, tonight, I wished I could do more than just remember and think good thoughts. 

Still, a rich meal like this on a cold, late-autumn evening, with my family around me, makes me realize that, for them, I'm laying the foundation for the memories my daughters will have. They will have comfort in the familiarity of the mundane things we now share, and I hope each of them will get to look back on these memories fondly, in good times and bad. And I hope they will find something that can call them back as easily as the sound of "Anthony... Anthony..."

Spicy Pork Empanadas

Growing up in northern New Jersey, I vividly remember seeing ads for Goya Adobo Sauce. They aired with greater frequency than I would have imagined on network TV of the 1970s and early 1980s. Sure, I also would occasionally tune into the Spanish-language UHF stations to watch a bit of "lucha libre" on weekends, but that was a rare indulgence. (No, really it was). I recall seeing cans of chipotle peppers in adobo sauce in the "ethnic foods" aisle in the grocery store. These always seemed exotic to me, a mystical thing that, as a boy, I would never have imagined having as part of a meal, never mind an item simply "on hand" in my pantry. As I think about it, few foods in the "ethnic" aisle would have seemed viably edible when I was a boy. Part of the reason, I'm sure, was simply my youth and lack of experience, but another part of it probably stemmed from living in a household that was not all that open to cultural "otherness." About the only food we bought from that aisle was the canned La Choy products, and the thought of canned Chow Mein still triggers a gag reflex deep inside for me.

I have come to appreciate a reasonably wide array of foods from other cultures over the years, and I have a fondness for empanadas, not only because they are delicious (really, I don't think I've ever had a bad one), but also because the basic concept is so appealing. Think about it; a delicious filling in a bread/pastry that is fried. Simple, easy to handle, comforting. And yes, I know that baking is an option, but if you can fry, why not? I had not made them before this evening, so the challenge for me was to keep the record perfect; I simply refused to taint the track record by making bad empanadas.

I started with some onion and oil, a bit of tomato paste, the chipotle/adobo goodness, cumin, and garlic salt, and added in small cubes of pork tenderloin and some water. I kept letting the sauce reduce, then adding a bit of water to keep the dish cooking, until finally getting the pork nice and tender (and still juicy). Once reduced down, I felt the filling needed a bit more sweetness to balance the flavors, so I added a bit of turbinado sugar. I confess that I decided on frozen "discos" for my first outing, in part because I wanted to eliminate a point of possible failure, but in larger part because I knew that, like most weeknights, my time would be limited. As a personal goal, I plan to make those from scratch next time.  Once constructed, I fried the empanadas in a mixture of canola and peanut oil until golden brown. 

The verdict

To put it simply; hot and spicy, but delicious. In addition to opening up that can of chipotle/adobo from the pantry, and my time-saving (yes, also a bit lazy) move of using the perfectly acceptable frozen discos, I served some canned pineapple on the side. The sweetness, and more importantly, the acidity really complimented the heat from the filling. 

I thought for a minute about my pantry as I was writing this and realized that, in the event of a long power outage or natural disaster, I would still be able to cobble together some rather interesting meals from the shelf-stable things I tend to keep around as a matter of course. It might be a fun challenge to cook for a few days with only things that are shelf-stable and already in the house just to see what I would end up with. I know this, for certain: it wouldn't be anything like I would have imagined walking those grocery aisles with my aunt when I was a young boy or teenager.

Grilled pork chops - the season begins early.

We have been absolutely blessed with amazingly mild weather all winter long in Chicago this year, and March has been downright balmy. I was thrilled to step out onto the deck tonight and briefly share the company of our neighbor and his son. They came out to fire up their grill just after I got mine started for the first time this year. I should note that it was his son grilling up cheeseburgers, and it makes me immensely happy to see a young teen already finding a love of cooking.  After a day of problems and setbacks, I was pleased to find my grill in perfect working order, and with ample propane on hand. I decided to reach back far into my bag of cooking tricks and make a pork chop dish that has been a staple of mine for well over 2 decades.


I'm a big fan of Italian sausage made with fennel seed (I know some who prefer it without), but I've really been feeling the burden of my winter spare tire, so the leaner option - a lean pork chop with a similar flavor - made a whole lot more sense.  When making this pork dish on the grill (rather than under a broiler on on the stovetop), I prefer to pound in my seasonings on at least one side before cooking. The seasonings tend to stay in place better, which is really no small feat with fennel seeds. I added something I picked up on a whim this weekend at the grocery store; some dehydrated red onion flakes. Along with these and the fennel seeds, I topped the pork with oregano, crushed red pepper, garlic salt, and black pepper. Truly basic, but it packs a flavorful punch. I managed to find one of my silicone brushes (sans handle) in with my daughter's toys allowing me to brush on some olive oil before grilling, rather than pouring it all over the place. (I think the child and I are going to have to have a serious conversation soon about which kitchen items are for playing, and which are MINE!)


The verdict


Tender, juicy, and bursting with flavor. If you are not a fan of fennel, I promise not to make you eat this if you visit. If you are, you will LOVE this. Since this was the first grilling of the season, I served this up with some simple buttered corn (maize, if you will). Here's the amazing part; we got our daughter to try the pork, and she kept eating it! I thought that it would be either too exotic or too spicy, frankly, but there you have it. She ate a fair bit of it, too. It is especially rewarding to have her actually like something that is a favorite of mine. It didn't hurt that there was strawberry shortcake as a reward for dessert. She ended up eating some pound cake and whipped cream in the end, so I suppose I should feel even greater pride knowing that my pork chops beat out some sweetened strawberries (if not the cake and whipped cream).


I enjoyed a spot of unremarkable Malbec with this. Ever since our honeymoon in Mendoza, it is hard for me to eat grilled meats without thinking of Malbec, and it is essentially our staple wine at this point. 


Another hard day wiped away by a good meal.

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.

Long Hiatus

I am terrible about keeping up with things sometimes. This blog qualifies as one of those things, and I'm not surprised. But I'm back, at least for now, and have something fun to write about.

We (my wife, daughter, and I) went apple picking last weekend, and have about 15 lbs. of the fruit on our counter. My wife does most of the baking in our house, and I'm OK with that. But I needed to do my part to help use up some of the goods.

My mind immediately went "duck" when I thought about what to cook with the apples (and no, this is not because of any humorous jabs taken at my wife; I was thinking of the fowl). We were lucky enough to find some bone-in duck legs at Gene's Sausage Shop. As an added bonus, they sell a double-smoked pork tenderloin as well, and I knew what I'd be concocting at that point quite clearly.

I decided to remove the meat from the bones on the duck legs in the interest of time. I'd have preferred to have roasted those instead, but there were other things to do (like nap for a change) this particular Sunday. I cooked out a good bit of the fat from the skin, removed the partially cooked duck, chopped it into small cubes, and returned it to the pan to cook a bit more.

Later in the day I cubed up about 4 apples and the pork. I sauteed these along with the now-cooled duck in some butter, cinnamon, nutmeg, sage, a bit of honey, some raisins, and dried cherries. These went into a 9x9 casserole dish, topped with thin layer of shredded cheddar cheese, and then a nice layer of puff pastry (I try to keep some in the freezer at all times).

The Verdict

Yummy comfort food. If you want an opinion beyond that, ask my wife. Wish we'd had a nice bottle of Bordeaux tonight, however. Ah well...

Fathers' Day - Pulled Pork

Chicago has no shortage of great places to eat. It also has several places that do justice to slow-cooked smoky meat. But sometimes I get a hankering for the taste of NC-style pulled pork BBQ, and Fathers' Day gave me an excuse to take matters into my own hands. I am less than an hour removed from eating the meal, and the lingering flavor and aroma of mesquite and pig are still full and rich.

This meal was partly possible because I was able to talk my wife into stopping at the Paulina Meat Market on the way home from the zoo this weekend. It was my first trip there, and in all honesty, I had my heart and mind fixed on a pork shoulder from the start. I did eyeball some other meats, and it will not be long before I'm writing about some rabbit here, I'm sure. And while there is an excellent butcher shop not far from our house, I really wanted to give this place a try. I was not disappointed. I was reminded of the great butcher shops I had the occasion to visit as a kid, and it is good to know that there are still places that know how to deliver excellent quality meat with outstanding service.

I prepped the meat on Saturday night with a basic rub, the core of which involved brown sugar and paprika. I like a slightly-smoky, slightly-hot paprika in general, and it served me well for this particular rub. The 7-pound cut fit nicely in a gallon Ziploc, and spent the night in the fridge. I was treated to some fantastic pancakes for Fathers' Day breakfast (a big thanks to my wife for including both chocolate AND peanut butter chips today!), and as soon as we finished, I started getting the grill ready. It was my first time trying to really slow-smoke anything over gas. I had a can of mesquite chips on hand, and tucked them over the low flame on one end of the grill for about 10 minutes as the meat sat out shedding some of the chill from the overnight stay in the fridge. Once the smoke started to billow, I brought the shoulder out and placed it with the fattier side up, the heat as low as possible, and I watched periodically to make sure the heat did not get much higher than 250 degrees (F). My grill is a real powerhouse, it seems, and does not like living in the low end of BTU production, but in the end, I was able to get a nice steady low heat, and was able to walk away.

One of my favorite side dishes to make is also one of the simplest. I like making a carrot slaw, and mine uses a white balsamic and mayo (roughly equal parts) as a base. Today I was lucky to still have some peach-flavored white balsamic on hand, and with some craisins and shredded carrots (along with a few other flavorings), it was quick work thanks to the food processor. The only downside was, in my rush to get the work done, I did not handle the shredder blade with my usual care, and I opened up a nasty little nick on the tip of my middle finger. Carelessness in the kitchen is never a good recipe.

With that done, I turned attention to my barbecue sauce. I went for a compromise today, and took the best of the eastern NC and western NC traditions to heart, adding my own touch of balsamic vinegar to the mix (the real stuff, not the white stuff). The sauce was mildly hot, with a good mixture of vinegar, enough ketchup to keep the tomato-based touch in play, and even hint of mustard to tip my hat to the folks in SC (who sometimes serve up mustard-infused sauces with their BBQ). I should also mention that I prefer honey to sweeten most of the BBQ sauces I make, and this was no exception.

I figured with all this effort, it would be a shame to miss out on hush puppies, so I turned to Paula Deen's recipe as a starting point. She's a great go-to resource for many southern staples, and this particular recipe did not disappoint (although I'm already thinking about my own take for the next time; these were damn good, but I don't think they'd suffer from some modification). As an afterthought, I served up some buttery corn to round things out.

The verdict

An added treat tonight was sharing the meal with our friends Ali and Crystal. They seemed to appreciate the meal, and they brought good beer and hard cider to the table, which is never a bad thing! It had been entirely too long since we last shared a meal with them, and I'm glad that happenstance (running into my wife coming back from the playground with our daughter) led them to join us tonight.

The pork - fabulous. Juicy, smoky, just enough of the "crispy" stuff alongside tender strands of succulent pig. It is as close to real NC pulled pork as I have had since the last time I was in NC, and I'm not afraid to make that claim. There is simply no substitute for real wood smoke and slow cooking, and taking the time today was well worth the effort. The sauce was outstanding, too. Sauce can be such a debatable thing, and I don't know why folks need to get so uppity about one kind being better than another. I find that one of the best things about American food is the regional differences we get to celebrate, and I have not had too many sauces that I did not like. If made with thought, love, and enthusiasm, each has a place at the table, and mine was no exception. I don't know if I would replicate this one identically, and that's just fine with me. I'm sure that my next trip to NC will bring me at least one more take on the classic, and I will have a few new ideas to try out on my next pulled pork dinner.

The hush puppies were perfectly golden brown on the outside, and just right on the inside. I cannot abide over- or under-done hush puppies, and while they are not the food of my heritage, I've certainly had enough to know good from bad. Mine were good. Really good. I'm considering my options for the next time around, but I'm also open to suggestions from any hush puppy aficionados out there who care to chime in. The corn was fine, if forgettable, and that was about what I expected. No effort, no reward, and sometimes, no cares either. Just a little something to give you the excuse to eat a little butter.

The slaw was as good as always. I sometimes opt for golden raisins or plain old Sunmaids, but the craisins give a nice tartness that offsets the natural sweetness of the carrots. The slaw was the ideal complement for the pork, and was great both on and off the bun (I tried it both ways to make sure).

The real verdict today had nothing to do with the meal. The fact that I got to celebrate being a dad would have made any meal special. The fact that I got to spend the day with my amazing daughter (and wife), and with some dear friends was the most important thing. Having a meal that brought me comfort, provided me a modest challenge, and took at least intermittent focus to avoid screwing up the end product was an added treat. But it turned out so well that I'm sure I'll remember it for a while to come.

I hope other dads out there had comfort, love, and good food today, too.