Simple Sick Day Kitchen Sink Pork Chop Soup

1 medium onion
1 medium carrot
1 stalk celery
6-8 tbs diced tomatoes
8 cups chicken stock
sea salt, cracked black pepper, oregano
1 smoked pork chop
1 can cannellini beans
4 cups loose fresh spinach leaves
1 cup small pasta
parmigiano reggiano cheese

I call this a kitchen sink soup because I just threw all sorts of scraps and ends and stuff I found in the freezer and fridge – everything I could find, really – to make this.  I had an old bag of celery, from which I was able to harvest a still snappy center stalk, a stray carrot, and a found-in-the-back-of-the-drawer onion — all of these I washed, peeled, and chopped roughly.  Nights like these are why it’s always good to have basic mirepox ingredients like these on hand.

These I very ungracefully chuck into my wok, which is sizzling with a few glugs of EVOO on the surface.  After adding a dash of salt, a generous tablespoon or so of black pepper,  and about two tablespoons of dried oregano, I let everything sweat and soften for a few minutes.

I wasn’t feeding a crowd, and I didn’t want a tomato sauce, so I only add about half the contents of a can of diced tomatoes in juice.  I toss everything well, and let it all simmer for a few moments.

Just enough time to chop up my chop.  This perfectly smoked, perfectly trimmed pork chop is from Blood Farms, and it’s been in my freezer for a few weeks now.  It doesn’t take too long to defrost, and then I…

… cut all the meat off the bone, and then into bite-sized pieces.

Everything gets chucked into the pan – meat and bone (why loose all that beautiful smoked seasoning?).  A quick stir later…

… and I add my chicken stock.  I bring this to a boil, lower to a gentle simmer, and let cook for about 30 minutes.

Oh, right — my beans!  I didn’t think the soup would be hearty enough without beans, so I crack a can of cannellini, which I drain and rinse before I add them to the pot.

While this is simmering, I boil off about a cup of ditalini pasta in salted water.  I don’t cook it in the soup because I don’t want to add all that cloudy starch to my broth.

I made a spinach salad at a party the other day, and I had one bunch left over, just about to start its conversion process into compost.  I salvaged the crispest leaves and threw them in the soup during the last 2 minutes of its simmer.

They melt beautifully into the soup.

The final ingredient: this lump of leftover parmigiano reggiano cheese – the perfect nutty salty substance to top off all the vegetable and porky goodness swimming in my bowl.

A luscious, steaming broth, made slightly smoky by the bites of chop ladled throughout, enriched by the white beans and tender pasta, and freshened by the carrots and spinach and spice.  It might have been easier to crack a can of Campbell’s soup (if I had one), but then I would have to deal with preservatives and salt and stuff I couldn’t control.  Although my left arm is still no better than a vestigial appendage, and my right lung feels like it can’t take a full breath (this getting old shit has got to stop!), my tummy and soul feel totally satisfied – almost giddy, even.  If chicken soup is for the soul, here’s hoping pork soup is for the shoulder…

It’s a brand new year!  Astute as I know you to be, dear readers, I’m sure you’ve figured that out by now, and I hope that you forgive my recent absence from the blogisphere, but for the holidays I gave myself the last few weeks off from cooking, more or less.  One of the drawbacks to being the house cook is that if I don’t make it, nobody does — and sometimes even Lolita lacks inspiration and motivation.  Hence, we became quite good friends with a troupe of delivery drivers, ate many large lunches out, and other than my spectacular Christmas dinner (which I may post for next year’s Noel), I didn’t do diddly squat.  But now that I’m back to work,  I’m back to cooking, and last night’s dinner was the perfect home-cooked meal for a first time back behind the stove.  Braised pork butt, stewed to tender and seared to crispness, served over some rich, nutty grits and wilted garlicky spinach, all topped with a cooling zesty crema.  As the temperature outside my windows dropped to the ‘teens, the warmth inside my belly grew with every hearty bite.

Crispy Braised Pork, Manchego Grits, and Garlicky Greens with Lime Cream

2lb pork butt
2 shallots
1 qt chicken stock
cumin, black pepper, sea salt, oregano
1/2 cup grits
1 bunch fresh spinach
1 head garlic
2 limes
EVOO
sour cream

The dish I am essentially making here is carnitas, that savory shredded citrusy pork often found in Mexican cooking.  It is, quite simply, my favorite filling for tacos, quesadillas, and well, my mouth.  But traditionally, preparing this perfection out of  pork butt takes hours and hours and hours of slow braising, and I just couldn’t wait that long.  And I didn’t have to!  Because these little meat morsels can be relatively quickly prepared in smaller quantities with more rigorous heat, with just as succulent a product to enjoy afterwards.  I start with a nicely marbled 2lb pork butt, which I cut into largish chunks.  I also chopped my shallots, the only aromatic I’m going to add at the onset.  The citrus and garlic will come towards the end of the cooking process.

A glug or two of EVOO goes into my largest, heaviest pan, which I heat to sizzling.

In goes those perfect pink pork chunks and my shallots.  Almost immediately, the kitchen fills with the aroma of searing meat and melting shallot – and it is out of this world.

I also add about 2 tbs of ground cumin, 2 tbs cracked black pepper, 1 tbs dried oregano, and a dash of salt, which kicks the already amazing smell past the cosmos and straight to heaven.

I move everything around every once in a while, aiming for browned edges on all the sides of each meatwad, while trying not to burn the shallots.

When all my meat has been kissed by the heat, I add enough chicken stock to cover — which leaves me about a cup leftover to use in my grits later.  I lower the heat to simmer, cover my pan, and walk away for about 90 minutes.  The liquid will permeate the meat, melt the fat, and breakdown the connective tissues between the muscle, yet it takes patience.  Go drink a couple beers and watch some Bones reruns on TBS; that’s what I did.

An hour and a half later, the liquid has reduced to less than half, and two forks easily shred the meat.  Awesome, but still not quite ready.  At this point, the meat has a bit of a grainy texture; to remediate that, I remove the cover so the rest of the liquid can start to boil off, and the circulation of air through the now browned meat will tenderize it even more.

It’s the perfect time to start my grits on the back burner.  1/2 cup of ground corn, 1 cup stock + 1 cup water, all set to simmer over low heat for about 10 minutes or until all the liquid is absorbed.

The major flavors on the plate will be garlic and lime, and it’s time to get them in the pan.  I first chop about 5-6 large cloves of garlic, then zest both of my limes.

Half the garlic and half the lime zest goes into the meat and stirred around well to incorporate all those snappy flavors.  Adding the zest – instead of juice – really kicks up the deliciousness; the oils released from the citrus will blend with the oils left in the pan once the rest of the remaining stock boils off, which will permeate the pork as it crisps during the final stage of cooking.  Adding fresh garlic at this point, instead of having added it when I started the braise, will ensure its flavor and pungency while still allowing it to mellow by virtue of a few minutes sautee.

After said few minutes, I raise the heat to high to finally boil off the last of the stock, leaving nothing but the EVOO and pork fat in the pan.  This starts to sizzle, and the meat against the surface of my stainless steel starts to sear and crisp.  I scrape the pan a few times, trying not to break my largest chunks of meat any smaller while trying to add that perfect crunchy richness which offsets the fork-tender; it is the synthesis of these two textures that make carnitas so delectable.

The last cooked component is my greens, so I add the rest of my garlic to another few glugs of EVOO in my large non-stick sauté pan, and sweat this until just translucent.

In goes my washed and dried spinach.  This particular foliage shrinks up madly when cooked, so I just overload my pan and toss gently until it wilts enough to fit.

This marvelous manchego cheese was a Christmas gift (included in a basket full of awesome vittles) from the other two men in my life, bosses TT and WA – thanks boys!  After noshing on it on New Year’s day, this leftover lump of lactic loveliness was exactly the cheese my grits needed.

El Claytonious shreds about half of it for me, which I add to my now thick and rich grits, along with some salt and pepper to taste.  Beautiful!

 The final component is my crema – a simple blend of sour cream, the juice from both my limes, and the rest of my lime zest.  I mix all this together well right before plating.

A molten bed of silky grits enriched by nutty Spanish cheese; a nest of garlic-riddled, wilted spinach; a pile of perfectly tender, crisp-edged, citrus scented, and super-savory pork; and a dollop of lime crema to add coolness and contrast to this rich repast.  ”Pork and grits,” Clayton queried, “where’d you get that idea?”  After snidely reminding him that bacon is pork, and we eat bacon and grits for breakfast, like, all the time, I finally sheepishly admitted that I had been somewhat inspired by a similar dish offered at the new Firebrand Saints in Kendall Square, where their porchetta plate with polenta and wilted kale set my imagination in motion.  Theirs was delicious, of course (as are their burgers and cocktails!), but my interpretation really fit tonight’s bill of fare.  Hearty and wholesome – all in about 2 hours.  If this first real meal of the year foreshadows what’s yet to come, Lolita and her lover will be eating REALLY well in 2012.  I hope, dear readers, you too enjoy as much digestible deliciousness as possible this year.  If you find yourself falling short – drop me a line and I’ll make you dinner myself!

Tenderloin Steaks with Wild Mushrooms, Seared Vidalia Onions, and Smashed Potato Stacks

2 8oz tenderloin steaks
2-3 fresh sweet onion shoots and stalks (these are Vidalia salad onions)
12-16 small potatoes (I have creamer, red, and potato spuds here)
8oz wild mushrooms (these are chanterelle, shitake, and woodear)
EVOO
sea salt, black pepper, oregano
sour cream
shaved parmigiano reggiano cheese

This could very well be called a weeknight wondermeal, since it doesn’t take very long and since it has so few components.  But, it made it on the weekend, and I don’t feel like misrepresenting myself to you, dear readers, so it will lack that particular distinction.  The longest cooktime is for the potatoes, which have to boil first before I can smash them into submission.  I throw them into boiling salted water for 20 minutes, or until I can pierce them easily with a fork

Sometimes I beat myself up about the simplicity of my ingredients.  I mean really — I have 4 basic items making up today’s meal – how is that masterful?  But then I think about how freshly sourced all my food is… how locally grown… organic… natural.  And I think about the taste — and just how happy my husband and I are after each and every meal I make.  Simple flavors, masterfully combined – that’s my niche.  Besides, I know where almost all my vegetables have been grown, and by whom, and how recently picked they are; all the meat I eat is from area abattoirs, and it’s all been butchered within days (if not hours) of when it finally passes my lips; even my diary products are mainly from Massachusetts, with the exception of finer imported items from Italy, Spain, and France.  I eat no processed foods, no mass-produced boxed junk, few snacks, and fewer sweets.  So even if Lolita is packing a little more chub on her these days, it’s all from food that is good, wholesome, fresh, natural, and healthy.  Like these here mushrooms: they are so newly harvested from New England forest floors that they have spring and vigor still coursing through their little fungi bodies.  All they’ll need is a quick saute over hot flavor, so I prep them now by washing, drying, and slicing them before I set them aside for later.

Back when Clayton and I still called Georgia home, we lived only a short drive up I75 from Vidalia (pronounced in redneck: vuh-DAY-lee’uh), from whence these beautiful onion shoots hail.  Of course, we now live 2000 miles away, so these veggies don’t conform to my locavore habits, however given my past proximity to the sweet onion capital of the world, I can still lay claim to a familiarity with this produce.  They were featured at Whole Foods, and they looked so sprightly and snappy that I had to have them.  I’ve washed, trimmed, and split them into halves.

I’ve heated my largest skillet to high with a few glugs of EVOO, and I force these shoots as best as I can into the pan.  They’re too large, y’see — so I have to wrastle them onto the surface, trying to coat their green shoots with hot oil so they’d wilt, which they did quite nicely.  Almost immediately, an aroma of searing sharp charring fills the kitchen, and it is good.  These cook for about 10 minutes before I add anything else to the pan.

The potatoes are perfect, so I drain them and spill them out over a couple of EVOO’d baking sheets.  Since they will each make a disc about 1 1/2 – 2″ in diameter, they need room to spread out.

See what I mean?  Using a fork, and my fingers to keep everything together, I smash each spud into a flat little patty, then douse them again with EVOO, salt, pepper, and oregano.  These pans go into a 350° oven to crisp for about 15 minutes.

Just enough time for me to finish my steaks and veggies.  I shove all my searing onions to one side of my hot pan, then move that part of the pan sort of off the heat, leaving the electric eye underneath only about 1/2 the pan – where I place my salted and peppered tenderloin steaks.  Using the flip once a minute technique, I cook these steaks for about 5 minutes on each side until they are perfectly medium rare.

When the steaks are ready, I plate them on top of my onions on warmed plates and set aside.  A few more glugs of EVOO gets added to the pan, and in go the mushrooms, where I saute them over high heat until they are wilted and a little caramelized on their best bits (about 5 minutes).

Meanwhile, my spuds are crispy edged and creamy inn’ed  and I remove them, one by one…

…and stack them with shavings of parmigiano reggiano cheese in between each disc.  These potato towers get topped with a dollop of sour cream and my minced onion greens.

Like so!

Juicy, tender, tenderloin steaks with charred onions and seared mushrooms, served with crispy crunchy creamy potatoes.  Using pure flavors, simple but sophisticated ingredients, and straightforward cooking techniques, I’ve assembled a supper that would be at home at the finest white-tablecloth bistrots as easily as it would be served off of a rustic hearth in a woodsy cabin during a winter white out.  Earth and turf extraordinaire!

Spicy Pepper-Skin Chicken and Sprouts with Farmstead Cheese Gravy

1 3-4lb fresh chicken
4 cloves garlic, peeled
12 Brussels sprouts, trimmed and halved
40 slices pepperoni (the spicier and oilier the better)
2 tbs butter
1 tbs flour
1 cup heavy cream
1/2 lb fantastic farmstead cheese — this is like a cross between a swiss and cheddar
paprika, garlic powder, oregano, black pepper, sea salt
EVOO

I’ve used the “stuff-stuff-under-the-skin” technique before — using fresh herbs, or compound butters, or slices of apple, or minced garlic and chopped rosemary — all with great success.  And recently I tried the idea of floating pepperoni slices on top of halved Brussels sprouts to spice and oil them as they roast, resulting in caramelized faces, steamed and flavored interiors, topped with spicy porky crispy chips.  (I heard you could do this over home-roasted nuts, too.  I have purposefully not purchased any nuts to test that, for I am afraid.  Afraid of uncontrollable snack-love.)  Anyway, I thought, well, if them ‘ronis can pepper and sizzle over sprouts, they can certainly do so under a roasting skin.  So, using my fingers and hands, I loosen my bird’s skin from her flesh, and tile a single layer of pepperonis between the membrane and the pink, covering as much real estate as I can across the breasts, in the thighs, and along the sternum.

See?  This takes about 20 slices of meat.

Before I tie my bird’s legs together at the ankles, I trim the excess fat from the cavity and chuck it into a large hot skillet.  I figure, why not use the chicken’s own fat, instead of butter or EVOO, to sear everything?  I render this…

… yielding me about 2 tablespoons of perfectly clear drippings.  I remove the fat chunks from the pan (and, I admit, take a wee nibble of rich yummy cracklin’)…

and then layer my sprouts, cut side down, in a single layer along the outer rim of the hot pan.

I then layer my pepperoni over all my sprouts, trying to make sure all each veg is covered by super-spicy salami.  (Kind of looks like a Christmas wreath, doesn’t it?  Happy Holidays!)

Into the center of this my precious of deliciousness, I place my trussed chicken.  Oh yeah — I’ve inserted a few peeled, crushed cloves of garlic in the cavity, just to scent from within, and I’ve salted, peppered, and EVOO’d the skin generously.  Into a hot 425° this goes.  About 35 minutes later, I temp it at 140°.  I crank the heat up to broil before putting the bird back in the oven for a final 10 minutes to crisp up on the outside.

 Meanwhile, I start my cheese gravy.  This special product hails from Robinson Farm, who supplies their lactic lusciousness to several great locations around Boston.  The Prescott, today’s variety, isn’t one of their regular offerings, but I would describe it as a nutty, sweet, raw-silk textured cross between a cheddar and a swiss cheese.  It was the perfect choice for tonight’s meal — not too aggressive, not too sticky, light and flavorful.

It grates perfectly.  I have to keep slapping away Clayton’s pinching fingers.

I add two tablespoons of butter to a large saute pan, then make a roux by tanning a tablespoon of flour in the hot fat.

I add my heavy cream to the roux and bring to a simmer over medium heat before whisking in the cheese.  When it is smooth, thick, and creamy, I season it with paprika, garlic powder, and oregano (to compliment the likely spices in my pepperoni) and bump it with salt and pepper until it’s just right.

My chicken is PERFECT.  It temps at 160°, and my skin is so crisp it hits hollow when I tap it with my knife tip.  But when I pierce it with my knife tip — oh, that’s the real sexy.  Clear, steaming juices rush out… quivering white meat snuggles within, and a crunchy seam of spice and pepper pork is threaded throughout.  I slice this bird right in half.  What?  We’re HUNGRY!

 This saucy bird has got it all: pep, cream, green, and golden brown skin.  She’s tender and sweet, but still has a spicy edge to her, too.  Her roasted sprout halves and toasted meat slices add savor to the white cheese slather that bathes and bastes her ripe and ready body.

As I dig in with my fork and my daintiest knife (it’s that tender!), the juices from the chicken dribbles into the creamy sauce, depositing puddles of red spicy oil that makes my mouth water.  What a delight!  I wish I had company tonight — ‘cuz this was definitely a company dinner.

Red Cooked Country Style Pork Ribs and Slab Bacon over Sesame Sticky Rice

3/4 lb country style pork ribs
1/4 lb slab bacon (pork belly would have been better, but I didn’t have any)
several cups cold water
3 tablespoons vegetable oil
3 tablespoons sugar
2-3 tablespoons dark soy sauce
2 whole star anise
3 cloves minced garlic
1/8 cup dry sherry
1/8 cup mirin
1 bunch scallions
1/2 cup cilantro leaves
1 cup sushi rice
1/2 tsp toasted sesame oil

These lovely country style pork ribs and slab bacon are from Blood Farm, which I’ve blogged about ample times before (like, the last 10 or so postings, I reckon) — they are my new favorite business evah.  Since I didn’t have pork belly, as the recipe called for, I worried that my country style pork ribs, which come from the loin – the opposite of the belly – wouldn’t be the right cut, so I added a small block of slab bacon (which is smoked (and therefore partially cooked) pork belly) to enough boiling water to cover.  I do this in my wok – the only cook surface my meat and sauce will need.  I boil for about 20 minutes, skimming as much gunk from the surface as I can as I go.

I then pick out my meaty bits…

… and strain the braising liquids into a bowl, reserving a couple cups to cook with later.

After wiping out my wok with a clean cloth, I add my sugar and vegetable oil to it, and set this to melt over medium heat.

These two components don’t melt evenly, but I can see the sugar pooling into brown liquid within the oil, which signifies that it’s ready.

To this caramel goodness, I add my meatwads, and I let them sear for a few minutes on this side…

… before flipping them to sear on the other.  Here comes the “red-cooked” — as the sugar browns and melds with the meat and fat, it turns a rich russet color.

The rest of my flavors include garlic, 1/2 my scallions,  soy sauce, mirin & dry sherry (to substitute for the Shaoxing  wine that I did not have), and my star anise.

The garlic, star anise, and scallions go in first.  I toss well to blend the flavors.

Then in goes my liquid ingredients: my mirin, sherry, and soy sauce, and the liquid I reserved from par-boiling my proteins.  I set this to simmer over medium heat…

… cover, and walk away for about 45 minutes.

After said 45 minutes, I can pull my meat apart with just the gentlest of tugs.  But there is still a lot of liquid left, so I remove the cover and let the sauce reduce while continuing to braise my meat for another 20 minutes or so — while I make my rice.

As this happens, I mince the rest of my scallions and pull the leaves off some cilantro – making about 1/2 cup.

My sauce has reduced to a thick glaze — just what I wanted.

Fork tender bites of pork and rich smoked bacon seasoned with a sweet, sticky, salty glaze, and served over a bed of rice drizzled with toasted sesame oil and flecked with minced green onions and coriander leaves.  Fresh, snappy, light, sweet, and filling, this dinner makes me wish I was in the Orient, where flavors are laced with mystery and distinction, riddled with tradition and history, honored by time and a sublime sense of taste.  I understand that my Western perspective generalizes the myriad subtleties of the kind of cultural richness China represents, but I wish, hope, and dream that I can someday appreciate firsthand the beauty they have to offer.  Until then, I will enjoy Chinatown, and I will explore my own abilities to render their savory perfection in my own humble ways.  Tonight’s offering was, if I dare say so myself, a step in the right direction.  Delicious!

Seriously.

Seldom do I find the Twitter generation’s vernacular useful, but tonight is one of those occasions where the treasure trove of Lolita’s vocabulary only detracts from the unpretentious pleasure of roasted meat and vegetables in a cast iron skillet.  Wait – that was pretentious, wasn’t it?  Let me rephrase: holy shit – my dinner was delicious!  1″ thick lamb shoulder chops, with tomatoes, potatoes, and Brussels sprouts, guest starring pepperoni and burrata cheese, all nestled in an iron bathtub and roasted to smokin’ hot in the oven until bursting, juicy, tender, and robust.  So freakin’ good — so freakin’ easy to make.

Rustic Lamb Steak Skillets with Tomatoes, Brussels, Potatoes, and Burrata

2 1″ thick lamb shoulder steaks
8 tiny wee potatoes
8-10 Brussels sprouts
6 baby tomatoes on the vine, split into clusters of 3
16-20 slices pepperoni
1 boll burrata cheese
EVOO
sea salt, cracked black pepper

These 8″ cast iron skillets were the only bounty Black Friday yielded, but they’ve already proven themselves worth their weight in gold (metaphorically speaking; because they are wrist-breakingly heavy).  I’ve heated them for 20 or so minutes (about as long as it took for me to stage my set-up shot above) in a 400° oven before setting them on my hot stove-top with a shot of EVOO in each.

This is a Weeknight Wondermeal, which means it is easy easy easy.  Here are the few steps I followed to make this deliciousness happen: I rinsed, patted dry, salted and peppered my steaks, and set them along the edge of their respective pans.  I’ve trimmed and halved my sprouts, which I set cut-side down on the hot surfaces to sear, and I’ve skinned only the middles of my tiny wee potatoes and have nestled them within.  The sprouts immediately start to sizzle.

I layer my slices of pepperoni over the sprouts and spuds, then throw the pans in my hot oven to roast for 15 minutes.

After said 15 minutes, I pull out the pans, flip the steaks, move my spuds to one side, my sprouts and pepperoni to the other, and snuggle my tomato stems in between.  I douse them (and everything else – ‘cept the lamb) with EVOO, and throw it back in the hot oven for 10 minutes.

After said 10 minutes,  my tomatoes have split, my potatoes are tender, my sprouts have caramelized faces, firm middles, and crisp edged wilted humps.  My steaks are cooked through and juicy, so I halve my boll of burrata — modern cheesemakers most perfect homage to cow’s milk — and place one in the middle of each pan, topped with another slice of pepperoni.  Back in the oven my skillets go, but I crank the heat up to broil for the final 5 minutes to finish.

Gamey lamb steaks sizzling in their own melted fat juices, coupled with the savory liquid balance only roasting tomatoes bring, flavored with spicy pepperoni and herbaceous iron-seared miniature cabbage halves, and studded with russet potato thumbs.  A cracked egg of curded and stretched cow cream blends with the various drippings, forming a gravy that is pink and milky, meaty, starchy, and vegetable-y, and which spears a sumptuous feast on the each tine of every fork.  And I didn’t even stop at the grocery store this evening — everything was in my fridge.  Veggies from the farm stand, lamb from Blood Farms, burrata, pepperoni and potatoes from Trader Joe’s: all in all, $20 worth of ingredients.  But the experience of diving into this cauldron of comely comestibles?  Priceless!

Simple Veal Saltimbocca and Risotto

1 lb thinly sliced veal cutlets (or you can buy loin, slice it into medallions, and pound it to 1/4″ thinness with a rolling pin or meat tenderizer)
1 bunch fresh sage
10-12 slices prosciutto de parma
1 qt chicken broth, warmed
1 shallot, peeled and minced
4 cloves garlic, peeled and minced
1/2 cup white wine, divided
1 cup arborio rice (short-grain)
1/2 cup parmesan cheese, freshly grated
1 lemon, zested and juiced
4 tbs butter, divided
sea salt, cracked black pepper, EVOO
flour for dusting

The veal will only take a few minutes to assemble and less time to cook, since the slices of meat are so very thin, so I start with my risotto.  I’ve made this on the blog many times before (with my Osso Bucco, with a baked chicken, with a braised chicken, as a sort-of chicken and rice thingy, with veal Milanese, and a few other examples); it’s always a favorite standby as a starch for classic elegant meals.  I start by sauteing my shallots and garlic in a dash of EVOO, before adding my rice kernels to toast for a few moments.

I first add 1/4 cup of my white wine (this is a dry Muscadet, leftover from last night’s imbibing), stirring well constantly — this is a theme for risotto: always stir! — over medium low heat until all the liquid has evaporated.  I then add 4 oz of hot chicken stock, stirring well until the liquid has absorbed into my rice – gently plumping and softening each grain, and breaking down their outer starches so that the proper smooth, saucy consistency is achieved – before adding my next 4 oz of stock.  I repeat this process until all my stock has been absorbed — which takes about 30 minutes, total.

Between stirring and risotto steps, I prepare my little packages of veal yumminess.  I start by patting every slice of meat thoroughly dry before salting and peppering them, then laying one or two leaves of sage across each piece.

 The next layer is the prosciutto; a 1/2 slice fits almost perfectly on top of each slice of veal.

Then I fold each slice over, pinning it into a small package by spearing it through with a toothpick.  The final step before these babies are ready is to dredge them in flour on both sides thoroughly – which will help them crisp up on the outside and stay tender inside.

I have my large skillet set over medium high heat with 2 tbs of EVOO and 2 pats of butter melting within; I lay each package of flavor into the pan, trying not to crowd them (but they will shrink a little – so I luckily can fit all 10 bits).  These sear for about 3 minutes.

 Meanwhile, my risotto is almost ready.  See how it has expanded with all the liquid it’s absorbed?  I taste a grain or two to make sure it is still toothsome, but not yet under-cooked.  There should be no crunch left in the center, but the grain shouldn’t yield too easily either.  The goal is texture, not mush.

After 3-4 minutes, I flip my meat wads.  The house smells absolutely delightful, and each bite of veal is nicely browned and crisping up on the outside.  Another 3-4 minutes on this flip side, or until it is also perfectly tanned.

I shred some parmesan cheese and some lemon zest into my risotto as the last step.  If I had some parsley (whoops! I have to get used to the farm season being over, which means I have to start buying my veggies again), I’d chop that and add a few tablespoons here, too – for color and snap.  I mix this all very well, letting the cheese melt – then I taste test it before adding a little more of everything, plus some salt and pepper.

To assemble a quick pan sauce, I remove the veal from the pan and add the last 1/4 cup of wine to the leftover butter/EVOO and deglaze.  I let this reduce (meanwhile – I remove all my toothpicks)…

… and add the juice from 1/2 my lemon, and the remaining two tablespoons of butter to the pan, too.  I whisk this well, allowing it to reduce and thicken before pouring it over my plated meat.

Perfect little scallopinis, stuffed with salty rich cured fine Italian ham and aromatic and spicy leaves of sage, then seared in butter and doused with lemony sauce.  With a mound of tender, creamy risotto (which I also studded with a few slices of prosciutto, too, just for good measure), this is basic meat and starch elevated to elegance and sophistication.  Clayton and I both fell into this meal with gusto and gratification; it was exactly right for a post-holiday Monday workday weeknight.

Roasted Short Rib, Roots, and Sprouts Skillet with Truffle Parmesan Grits

2 lbs bone-in short ribs
10-16 tiny wee potatoes
10-12 medium Brussels sprouts, larger ones split in half
2-3 medium carrots, peeled and cut into 1/2″ discs
2 medium white onions, diced
8-10 cloves of garlic, peeled and crushed
sea salt, cracked black pepper, truffle salt, vegetable oil
12 oz dark beer
4 cups beef stock
1/2 cup grits
2 cups water
2 tbs butter
1/2 cup grated parmesan cheese

I headed out on Black Friday with a mind to blow some dough.  Alas, I was mostly disappointed.  Newbury Street was all “15% off your 4th item” and stuff – not the type of discounts I wanted.  But I did find these adorable little cast iron skillets at Marshall’s (#thuglife) for a pittance, and I sort of cobbled my meal together with them in mind.  After curing them fully this afternoon, before I got truly started with tonight’s meal I threw them back in my 350° oven to reheat back through thoroughly.  They’ll come into play in about 30 minutes.

These beautiful beef short-ribs are from my new bestest friend, Blood Farms.  (Holla out to Lucy+ Chris + Andrew! Friends I incessantly urged to take the drive to West Groton to visit said Blood Farm after they waxed philosophic about their tasty bits of slab bacon in my Thanksgiving Brussels sprouts.)  These boney beefy hunks of meat were purchased a few weeks ago and frozen in my sad, crappy freezer, but which were happily defrosted this afternoon in preparation of tonight’s meal.  I rinse them, pat them very dry, then bondage them like the naughty cow parts they are (um… to hold the bones in while braising.)

I’ve moved my skillets from my hot oven to my hot range, and I’ve added a douse of vegetable oil to them to heat ’til just smoking. I’ve dressed my bones in salt and pepper, and I place them, bone side up, into the sizzling frying fat.  They sear 5 minutes on this side.  Using tongs, I flip them so that each other edge sears for at least 2 minutes, until every surface has been kissed with brown.

I add equal amounts of garlic cloves,  carrot, onion to each pan.  Then I toss all this very well to coat with fat and sear with heat.

This is my new daily beer: Session Premium Black Lager.  It’s got the whole cool crisp lager thing going, with a nice malty full bodied richness characterized by the ”black” eponym.  It goes great with beef.  6 oz goes steaming into each pan…

I let all that loveliness froth and roil for a few seconds, before throwing the pans into my still 350°hot  oven.  And I wait.  For an hour.

After which time, my meat has begun to tighten on to the bone (the tough stage before the tenderness sets in), and almost all my beer has boiled down to a nice thick glaze.  Nice.  Thick.  Glaze.  But it needs more time, so I decide to meaten it up…

… by adding a couple cups of beef broth to each pan, too.  Back in the oven they go, for another 30 minutes.

The last 30 minutes will turn the starting-to-fray-with-forks-but-still-tough-at-the-bone meat into succulent shreds of deliciousness.  Those 30 minutes will also finish off the wee potatoes, sprouts, and the rest of the onion.  I toss these beauties with the liquid left in the pan (it’s OK to add more beef broth if it’s too dry; the pan should be about 1/2way full of juice), then toss the pans back into the hot oven.

The final ingredient is the grits – a starchy alternative to a soppin’ biscuit, and my preference to polenta when wanting something corny on my plate. 2 cup water, 1/2 cup grits, simmered until tender.

I add my two tbs  butter and my grated cheese to the pot when the grits are just about ready.  Then I add a generous amount of truffle infused sea salt — to add flavor and savor.  Removing the lid and heat source will thicken ‘em up.

The beauty of a skillet is that you serve right in it.  I sort of push my lovely caramelized veggies to one side and pour my cheesy truffled grits into the chasm that remains.  They ooze like lava under the tenderific meat bones, the bursting potato pods, the crisp-edged, silky innard sprouts, the sweet carrots and the melting onions.  The smooth corn goodness offsets the deep tones of meat and garden-fresh roasted flavor. With each bite, I ascend to some transcendental place where perfection dwells on the tines of a fork, while the dark deep smoldering heat of the iron underneath anchors me to terra firma, where lust lurks on the tongue.  I challenge you, dear readers, to dive into this delight.  A few easy ingredients, a  few tantalizing hours of house aromas, and you too can experience Nirvana by merely plucking the fruits of your fork.

Poached Pear Stuffed Game Hens with Root Mosaic and Lavender Velouté

2 game hens (these are about 1.25lb each)
1 large red beet
1 large golden beet
2 large parsnips
1 bunch lavender
3 sprigs rosemary
EVOO
sea salt, cracked black pepper
6 tbs butter, divided
1 cup heavy cream
1 cup sweet riesling
1/2 cup honey
2 tbs flour

Before I get to the fun stuff, I start off the root veggies first, which will need at least an hour to roast in the oven.  I scrub them, dry them, douse them in EVOO, salt, and pepper, and wrap each type in its own foil packet, with its own sprig of rosemary for scent.  Into a 350° oven they go.

Next comes the pears, which need to poach for about 20 minutes before I can stuff them into my birds.  I peel and core them both.

I gently place them both into a small saucepan large enough to hold them and enough water, reisling, and honey to cover them almost completely to the stem.  I throw in a few leaves of lavender as well.  I set this pan over medium heat and bring to a low simmer, so that my pears will absorb the flavors and soften.

Now for the fun stuff!  These baby birdies are a perfect one-person serving in themselves, but navigating their bones when eating them is a real hassle, and makes the meal more of a pain then a pleasure, regardless of how good it tastes.  So deboning a game hen is a technique I plan to practice and aim to master – then I can enjoy all the lovely meat and filling without choking on and tripping over small bones.  There are several excellent tutorials online one can study; I chose The Saucy Gourmet’s poor quality video/high quality instruction YouTube offering, which really shows the step-by-steps.  But I’ve put together the following sets of shots below as crib notes.  Start by rinsing and patting dry the insides and outsides of each hen.

1. Turn the bird breast side up, and find the base of the sternum – the point between the thighs.

1. Pull the breast meat and skin fully away from the sternum by pinch-walking your fingers along the upper ridge.

1. Dig out the joint and socket at the bird’s ‘shoulder’ and, using kitchen shears, snip the whole junction box out of each side.  Feel for any small bone bits with your fingertips and remove.

1. Using a paring knife, scrape the dark meat away from the thigh bone all the way to the joint, then twist to remove.  Do this on both sides.

Behold!  This bird is ready to be stuffed.

And my two perfect pears are poached and ready.  After they cool slightly,

…I place a whole pear and a large sprig of lavender inside of each bird, stem-to-neck, essentially replacing the rib-cage I removed with the structure of the fruit.  I sprinkle sea salt and pepper over both hens, then use the abundance of skinfat between the legs to tie up and toothpick the “ankles” together.  I totally need to buy some butcher’s twine, but luckily I was able to effect the same sort of ‘packaging’ with my toothpicks and determination.

Each of my hens had a large cowl of fatty neck skin which I removed, since I wanted to harvest that savor for basting purposes.  Here I’m rendering them down in the skillet I plan to use to roast the bird.  I get about 2 tablespoons of silky, savory fat…

…to which I add a large pat of butter.  When my fats are frothy…

…I place each bird carefully breast side down on the hot surface.  I use tongs for this, and I’ve folded the wing tips back in such a way to keep the birds maintaining their basic shape.

By carefully tipping the pan, I’m able to scoop out the delicious oils from the pan and baste each bird thoroughly.  I sear for about 7 minutes on this side…

…before I flip them carefully with my tongs to sear and baste on the backsides.  I then place the whole pan into a 350° oven to roast for about 20 minutes, occasionally reaching in to baste the birds with their delightful drippings.

Meanwhile, my beets and parsnips are beautifully roasted and ready to plate.  After I let them cool slightly, I cut them down into roughly equal thicknesses, then cut them into different blocks and rectangles.

Like so.  From these random pieces, I assemble a small mosaic structure on each plate.

As my birds finish roasting, I start my quick veloute.  Technically speaking, a veloute is a mother sauce assembled from a white stock with blond roux.  Mine won’t have stock exactly, and will also have cream.  This is the roux – clarified butter whisked with flour over medium high heat.

… before adding my heavy cream and lavender.  I season with salt and pepper, and let this simmer until it thickens to the right consistency.

My hens are cooked to perfection — their skin is crispy, but the meat is juicy and tender. My beets and parsnip assemblage ideally compliments the sweet pear and fragrant lavender, and my two sauces – the veloute and a drizzle of pan drippings – bathe each bite in floral cream and rich slather.

With my most delicate knife, I effortlessly slice through my bird’s breast to reveal its poached pear interior.  Each forkful is a revelation: savory white meat and gamey dark meat speared with the tender, honey-sweet bird-basted pear flesh.  A dab of veloute and a drag through the drippings, with a bite of beet thrown in for balance, and my mouth is in shock from the sheer indulgence, the absolute deliciousness, and the utter elegance of this meal.  Although it was an effort to assemble each component part, in the aggregate this dinner is truly something awe-inspiring.

Stuffed Roasted Pork Chops with Gorgonzola Cauliflower Mash

2 large bone-in pork chops
1 egg
1 onion
1 head cauliflower
1 large apple (this is a Macoun)
3 slices sandwich bread
3 slices bacon, chopped
3 oz gorgonzola cheese
4 tbs butter (divided)
heavy cream (about 1/2 cup)
sea salt, cracked black pepper, cinnamon, dried savory, dried chives

I start with my stuffing.  My cracked egg is mixed with my bread, which I’ve torn into pieces, my apple, which I’ve seeded and diced (but not peeled), and some sea salt, black pepper, savory, and cinnamon — a dash or so of each.  I blend this well.

Meanwhile, I render my bacon.  When it’s nice and crisp, I reserve the drippings and…

… add the bacon to the stuffing, which I mix well.

I also remove the leaves and stem from my cauliflower, and cut it into smaller florets. These get placed in my bamboo steamer and cooked off until I can pierce them easily with a fork – about 15-20 minutes.

Using my sharp boning knife, I cut three separate pockets into each pork chop: one in the large loin portion, and one in each portion of the tenderloin (on the other side of the T-bone).  Usually, stuffed pork chops are boneless, but I couldn’t pass up the sweet meat closest to the bone – so I decided to super-stuff them by doing so in each large portion of protein.

About a tablespoon of filling fits into each pocket on the tenderloin side…

… with 2-3 tablespoons of filling on the loin side.  I secure each pocket with a couple of toothpicks.  It ain’t pretty, but it works.

I’ve melted two tablespoons of butter and added my bacon drippings to my large non-stick skillet.  When it’s foaming, it’s ready to be ‘chopped’.

I’ve salted and peppered my meaty bones and in they go.  (See my cauliflower peeking out of the steamer in the background?  It wanted to see what all my oohing and aahing was about.)  I let them sear for about 3 minutes…

… before carefully flipping them to sear on the other side.  I have to use my tongs to sort of press the meat onto the surface in places, since the stuffing has made them bulbous and not everything is making contact.  About 4 minutes on this side, and then I throw the whole pan into the oven on 350° for about 10 minutes to finish cooking through. When they’re ready, I remove them to a plate to keep warm and whisk 1/2 of my my heavy cream and about a tablespoon of dried chives to the pan-juices, bringing it to a simmer over high heat until just thickened (about 5 minutes).  I season with salt and pepper, too.

While my sauce is thickening, using my potato masher, I break down my cauliflower.

I add my cream, butter, and gorgonzola cheese to the cauliflower, as well as a little salt and pepper, and mix well until it’s all incorporated and smooth.

Using mashed, cheesy cauliflower instead of potatoes reduces the heaviness of this meal by several orders of magnitude, even if the heavy cream and gorgonzola add back a little of the weight.  My pork chops are perfectly seared, and the stuffing is sweet and savory thanks to the tart apple and thick smoked bacon.  Each bite falls onto my fork with just the gentlest of prodding, and when slathered with mash and gravy, each bite takes me one step closer to a heaven where the hearth is always steadily aflame, where the rugs are always soft underfoot, and where the company always feels like family.  Another triumph for the other white meat – and another scrumptious supper for me!