Monday, August 12, 2013

Spatchcock Chicken



While I am a devoted lover of the roasted whole chicken, with a bit of butchery, this technique makes the most succulent, evenly cooked chicken you have ever tasted. The breast is so moist, in fact, that it tastes almost as good as, if not better than, the dark meat! It is also much easier to serve this meal to a crowd, as I’ve always hated having to carve a chicken fresh from the oven. My favorite thing about this recipe however, is that you start with the chicken upside down on your cutting board!

Makes: 4-6 servings
Time:   30 minutes for prep
    20 minutes for cook time

Ingredients:
1 whole chicken, 3-4 pound
4 large slices of smoked no-knead bread
1 whole white onion, sliced
1 jar roasted red bell peppers
1 jar artichoke hearts
1 bunch fresh basil, minced or chiffonade
10 cloves garlic confit
juice from 1/2 lemon
Olive Oil
Salt and Pepper


Method:

Pre-heat your oven to 375F.

The hardest part of this entire recipe is butchering the chicken, but with a little practice you will be quick and proficient at it in no time. There is really no perfect way to do this, so I always just go by feel. The key thing to remember is it does not have to be even close to perfect! All you really need to worry about is leaving the skin intact, which will hold all the meat together. And even if the skin does get cut in a few places, it is totally fine because you are going to cut the chicken in serving size pieces in the end anyways!

To start, place you chicken breast-side down on the cutting board. Cut a line along the length of the back bone, and pop the thigh bones out of their joints. Remove the wishbone at this point, as well.

Next, beginning at the tail, start to scrape and cut the skin and meat away from the spine and carcass. Work your knife around the thigh bone joint, and continue up the spine to the breast. Still scraping and using small cuts, slowly roll away the back meat and breast from the rib bones and separate the wing from the carcass at the joint. Keep cutting until you can flip one entire side away from the spine. The breast and thigh parts should still be connected by the skin, and the breast should still be attached to the breast bone.

Repeat the process for the other side. Once the the meat is only connected by the breast bone, scrape up and along the white cartilage, pulling away the meat at the same time and trying to not break through the skin. Let the weight of the meat pull itself away as you cut, until it is completely separated from the carcass.

Next, you will need to debone the legs and thighs, first make a long cut along the thigh and leg bones in the shape of an L. Then cut around the end of the leg bone in a circle to release the connective tissues, and begin scraping the meat down and off the bone with the back of your knife. Work the meat off of both bones in this way, making a few cuts through the connective tissues where the thigh and leg bones meet, until you can pull these bones away completely. Repeat for the other side.

Finally, cut of the wing tips, and clean up any pieces of cartilage that are still connected to the meat. Season both sides of the bird with salt and pepper, and heat a very large pan over medium-high heat. Pour in enough oil to cover the bottom of the pan, and sear your chicken skin-side down until the entire bird takes on a golden and crispy skin. This part can be a little confusing, so below is a great video by Theo Randall that covers the whole process.



















Remove the chicken from the pan and set aside. Next toast each side of your bread in the same pan over low heat until it is crisp. While toasting the bread, toss the onions, peppers, artichokes, and garlic confit with the lemon juice, olive oil, salt, and pepper.

Lastly, line a baking pan with the slices of crisped bread. Cover these with your vegetables, and on top of that lay your chicken, meat-side down. Place the baking pan in your pre-heated oven for 25-35 minutes, or until the chicken is completely cooked through and juices all run clear. Let rest for five minutes before slicing the chicken and serving atop the bread and vegetables. Garnish with the chiffonade of basil, and enjoy along-side a gorgeous glass of white wine. You deserve one after making it through all that butchery!




Thursday, August 8, 2013

#7 There is such thing as a stupid question, but that doesn’t mean it shouldn’t be asked.

“Who would like to help me demonstrate trussing a chicken?” Chef Patricio asked our Foundations 1 class, during our fourth week of culinary school.

As always, before the words had even fully left his mouth, my hand was flung in the air. Chef waved me up with a knowing smile, accustomed and even expectant of my eagerness by now. As I left my seat in the center of the front row however, a worrying thought crossed my mind.

Whenever I roast chicken at home, I’m never positive which way is right side up- I just can’t tell the difference when it’s raw. What if I screw it up right now? In front of the whole class!

It was true. On more than one occasion, I had pulled a chicken from the oven, fully cooked, and totally upside down. (Which actually makes for a moist breast, but one with un-crisped skin).  I always recognized the mistake immediately when it was cooked, but while still white, pock-marked, and rubbery; all of the parts looked the same to me! Determinedly, I told myself it would be fine; after all, it was obvious. So obvious that there was no way I could possibly ask Chef which way was up without humiliating myself.



This time, I was sure, unlike the previous others, I would be able to distinguish the breasts from the back and all would fine. I joined Chef Patricio at the demonstration table with what I hoped was an air of confidence.

Of course, the very first thing he instructed me to do was grab two chickens from the reach-in and place them on our cutting  boards.

“Yes, Chef” I responded breezily, as though this was the easiest task in the world, which it would have been for anyone else.

Grabbing two chickens, I placed them in a bowl before returning to the cutting boards, and the moment on which my reputation as a capable cook now hung. Until now, I had put on a good show, and was looked upon as one of the best in our class. Even though I had no professional experience, I was far and away the most knowledgeable about cooking techniques, ingredients, cuisines, well-known Chefs, and renowned restaurants; due mainly to my insatiable reading habit and cookbook addiction. Now, however, that carefully crafted persona would be destroyed as, once again, I literally couldn’t make heads or tails of these fricken birds.

Time was ticking and there was no way I could put off making a decision any longer, so I went with my gut, placed them both on the cutting boards, and prayed like hell I’d picked right. The second Chef looked down curiously at his board, I knew I had failed. Shit! I quickly flipped over the birds, laughing it off as if I had accidentally placed them breast-side down, while my face grew hot and left knee began to tremble.

Did anyone notice? Did I play it off?

It seemed, luckily, that the students were all distracted with knife bags and cell phones. Yet, I could have avoided all of this anxiety if only I had just checked with Chef.

A simple “this is the breast side, yes?” might have been slightly embarrassing to ask, but far less humiliating than plunking the birds down with their asses waving in the air. And let’s be clear, I know there is no way Chef bought my ‘whoopsie!’ act, even if the rest of the class may have.

That moment seemed so monumental at the time, but looking back now, it was so insignificant! Such a silly little thing, hardly worth remembering let alone regretting. Since then, I have made far worse mistakes and embarrassed myself much more, and each time it was because I was too prideful to ask what I thought was a stupid question.


Trust me, when you are butchering rare and expensive parrot fish, you should always ask the Chef what exactly it is he wants you to do, rather than do it wrong- even if he just explained a minute before.

After a few of these costly mistakes, I quickly learned that asking questions, especially the stupid ones, was in fact, smart. I have now reached the point that I never hesitate to ask a question because every time I do I learn something, which is invaluable. Asking questions can save you time, as well as face. Rather than hunt around for an ingredient when I am in an unfamiliar kitchen just for the sake of self-sufficiency, I ask a veteran where it is, and easily save myself ten minutes. When I am beginning a new recipe, or prepping a new ingredient, I always ask the Chef what the best way is to approach things, and this increases my efficiency exponentially.

When it comes right down to it, the fact of the matter is, it’s never stupid to seek knowledge you don’t have. You’ll never know until you ask. But don’t get me wrong, I still maintain my stance that there are, indeed, stupid questions. So perhaps those you should probably just Google.

Until the next bite,
Jenn

Monday, August 5, 2013

Mar i Muntanya


This recipe is adapted from one in Thomas Keller’s Ad Hoc at Home, and is a Catalonian version of surf and turf, roughly translated it means Mountains and Sea. As a result, this dish contains a myriad of proteins, including chicken, sausage, shrimp, and mussels, in addition to a variety of vegetables and layer of saffron rice. With all of these components, mise en place is an essential part of this recipe, and will ensure an impressive and stunning result.

Makes: 6-8 servings
Time: 10 minutes time prep for brine, 24 hours for actual brining
45 minutes prep for dish, 15 minutes cooking for dish

Ingredients:

1 small whole chicken
1 chorizo (I substituted italian sausage, because well, that was what I had on hand!)
12 PEI mussels
12 shrimp
large handful of green beans (blanched)
½ cup of roasted red peppers sliced into strips
½ yellow onion sliced
4 cups cooked saffron rice
10 cloves garlic confit
Piment d’espelette (if you don’t have this you could also use paprika)
½ cup chicken stock, plus 2 Tablespoons
½ cup white wine
juice from ½ lemon
3 tablespoons butter
grapeseed or other high smoke point oil
salt and pepper


Method:

Pre-heat the oven to 400°F.

Break down your chicken into 8 pieces: two legs, two thighs, and two breasts that are each cut in half, (one half will have the wing attached to it.) Keller brines these pieces overnight, and if you are the plan ahead type, you should also! The brine is a simple recipe, and creates much more succulent chicken.

Next, de-vein your shrimp before brining them for about fifteen minutes in a solution of about 4 cups water and ½ cup salt.


Rinse your chicken, (if brined) and season with the espelette (if not brined, also add salt) and heat a large pan over medium high heat. Sear the chicken skin-side down in the grapeseed oil, turning the heat down once the initial browning has occurred. Cook for about 8 minutes on the first side, then flip and cook about 6 minutes more, or until all the pieces are almost cooked through.

Remove the chicken from the pan. Slice your sausage, and sear each piece in the pan you cooked the chicken. When finished, remove the sausage and throw in the onions, peppers, green beans, and garlic. Saute the vegetables until hot, seasoning with salt and pepper as they cook. Once they are heated through, we can begin building our dish. Line the bottom of a baking dish with the saffron rice, then cover with the vegetables and sausage slices. Nestle each of the chicken pieces in and pour the chicken stock over, minus the extra two tablespoons worth. Place the baking dish in the oven for about fifteen minutes. 



While the chicken is baking, cook each shrimp until it begins to curl, about 1 ½ to 2 minutes each side. Remove them from the pan. Add your butter, and heat until foaming. Toss in your mussels, then add your wine, reserved chicken stock, and lemon juice. Cover the pan with a lid, and let the mussels steam until they have all opened.  Once they have opened, remove the mussels, and reduce the liquid in the pan until it has a more sauce-like consistency.

When the chicken and rice are finished baking, pull the pan from the oven, place your shrimp and mussels within it, and pour the sauce from the mussels over everything. Garnish with fresh herbs and more lemon juice, if you prefer.



Wednesday, July 31, 2013

Mise en place isn’t just a state of mind, it’s a way of life.



It's amazing how easily we can believe our own lies. Throughout my many years of school, each time I received an assignment I would tell myself I was going to start it early, and work on it a little each day. And I would seriously, honest-to-God, truly believe that this was what I was going to do. But ten times out of ten I would leave it to the last night. Which I would then spend working furiously, fueled by Red Bulls, cigarettes, and the sudden inspiration that stems from sheer necessity. The fact that I always received high grades on my assignments further confirmed that this wasn’t necessarily a bad method.

Procrastination bled into other areas of my life as well. I would wait until the last minute to pack for a trip. Forget to get my car smog checked before my registration was due.  Even wait until I was on my very last pair of contacts before I ordered more. And unlike homework assignments, procrastinating in daily life hardly worked out well. At best, I’d manage to complete the task in the nick of time with a lot of added stress and pressure, but more often, I would miss the deadline and end up paying late fees, or walking around blind for a few days.

When I began to read food literature, and especially once I entered culinary school, this all came to an end. As if by miracle, I completely transformed into someone who was always prepared, never arrived anywhere less than ten minutes early, and dealt with tasks that came up immediately when they occurred. It wasn’t a miracle, but in fact, the concept of mise en place.

There’s a saying about French cooking that the first and last thing in the pan is always butter. Well, in culinary school, the first and last words out of your Chef Instructor’s mouth are always mise en place. Mise en place refers to the state of preparedness- both in the kitchen and in one’s mind. At it’s simplest, it means everything in it’s place.


In practice this means that before you begin cooking a dish, you gather and organize all of the ingredients and equipment you will need so they are right at hand when you are cooking. It means that before service, your nine pans are all filled with the components of your dishes, your station is set up precisely the way you have memorized, and each item on your prep list is neatly crossed off. Most of all it means your mind is clear, and your thoughts are straightforward and focused solely on the task at hand.

Mise en place is the only thing that keeps you from slipping into the weeds during a crazy rush, and it is the only thing that keeps your head from spinning when you have nine orders to fire at once. What this taught me was that even the most difficult of tasks can be accomplished as long as you are properly prepared. That if you look ahead, assess what might become a problem, and prepare for it before it has even occurred, your life will run smoothly.


So, I began to try out the idea of mise en place outside the kitchen. When I had to go somewhere new, I made sure to leave a half an hour early in case I got lost. When I received important documents, I filed them so I would be able to find them later. When I was embarking on a trip, I packed a day early and made sure my itinerary and traveling documents were easily at hand. And you know what? Just like in the kitchen, it made my life ten times easier.

It takes some effort and motivation early on, but saves so much wasted time and stress later that I can’t believe I used to live any other way. Now the approach of a looming deadline isn’t what inspires me; instead, it’s that feeling of perfect assuredness, of knowing that I am ready for anything. Of course, bad habits do creep back up, and occasionally I find myself writing something the morning I’d planned on posting it- like this blog entry perhaps? :)

Until the next bite,
Jenn



Friday, July 26, 2013

Chimichurri Sauce

This is one of my favorite toppings for almost anything- fish, chicken, steak, quesadillas, beans, soup... I have yet to find an end to the list! 



Makes: about a cup and a half
Time: 10 minutes

Ingredients:

1 cup packed fresh parsley 
1 cup packed fresh cilantro
¼ cup oregano leaves
6 cloves garlic
2 Tablespoons chopped onion
½ cup olive oil
2 Tablespoons red wine vinegar
2 Tablespoons lime juice
salt to taste
chili flakes to taste

Method:

Pulse your garlic and onion in a food processor until finely minced.

Next add the herbs, and once again pulse a few times until chopped well. 
Transfer everything to a medium bowl, and begin whisking in the oil and acids. If you want a more cohesive spread-like consistency you can also add the liquids while everything is running in the food processor, though that is slightly less traditional. 

Season with salt and chili flakes until the flavor is to your liking, and begin dolloping this sauce on everything you eat from here on out. 

Creamy Corn and Chipotle Soup with Chimichurri Sauce

This is what corn looks like after it sits in your hanging produce basket while you lay prone on the couch for a week.


First off, I want to apologize for the sudden week of silence.  I managed to seriously screw up my back at work and have since been totally out of commission. I’m finally feeling good again though and thrilled to be back in the kitchen! This recipe is a version of one I made at a fine-dining restaurant I used to work at, and it was always, hands-down the most popular menu item. Guests would start requesting it the second Spring started to wrap up, and when we did end a service with some left in the walk-in (which wasn’t often) the servers were sure to finish it off that night.  As a result, I spent a good part of every day shucking and cleaning corn. Fortunately for this dish however, the corn doesn’t have to be clean of all hair as the soup is strained through a chinoise before plating. The flavor and texture of the end result is so addictively good though, it would honestly be worth hours of hair picking!

Makes: 4-6 servings
Time: 45 minutes

Ingredients:

1 large onion
4 garlic cloves
1 Tablespoon of olive oil, grapeseed oil, or basically whatever kind of fat you most prefer
8 large corn on the cob
2 cups heavy cream
3 cups whole milk
3 dried chipotle peppers
10 or so peppercorns
3 cloves
2 bay leaves
salt to taste
lime juice to taste

chimichurri sauce for garnish
chile oil for garnish

Method:

First, shuck your corn and cut the kernels from the cob.

Next dice your onion into ½ inch pieces, and slice your garlic cloves. Saute these in the olive oil until they take on a golden color.

Next add the corn, cream and milk.

Tie the chipotle peppers, peppercorns, cloves, and bay leaves in a square of cheesecloth, or place them in a tea ball, then add them to the pot.

Lower your heat and be sure to stir frequently as the cream and milk both love to scald. Also keep an eye out for boiling over, as once the dairy begins to simmer it will foam up and begin to rise unbelievably quickly.

After about 30 minutes of simmering, the corn should be nice and soft, and ready to be pureed. You can use either an immersion blender or stand mixer, but either way be sure to pull out the aromatics first.

Once blended, pour/push the soup through a fine-meshed strainer and toss out the chunky residue that is left behind.  Taste the resulting sweet, white silkiness and season with salt and lime juice accordingly to your preferences. Garnish with some chimichurri sauce and perhaps a spoonful of chili oil if you like heat, and devour! (Feel free to lick the bowl, no will blame you.)


Thursday, July 18, 2013

Just because it hurts, doesn't mean you quit.

Thank God, I thought to myself as I looked around the nearly clean kitchen. Looks like we’ll get to go home soon.

It was my first day back in a kitchen after a 2 month long vacation/job hunt, and while the day had only lasted about 9 1/2 hours, it had been rougher than I remembered. I have a tendency to romanticize things in my head and looked fondly back on my last job as pure sunshine and fun, forgetting all the frustration. But now with my sore shoulders, aching lower back, and pounding headache, I remembered the reality. It was a well-earned, familiar kind of pain, but that didn’t make it hurt less.

Our crew stood waiting for the Chef to inspect the kitchen and walk-ins before dismissing us for the night. Unfortunately, we weren’t so lucky this evening.

“What the fuck is this? Who prepped the corn? It’s still covered in fucking hairs!” Chef appeared in the doorway of the larger walk-in, shaking a cob in his hand. “Everyone grab a lexan, now!”

There were 18 lexans with over a 100 cobs in each and 9 of us. Shit.



Everyone put down their knife rolls, and rebuttoned their jackets. Without a word we all did exactly as we were told, circled around a table, and began picking the cobs clean of hairs. As the clock crept closer and closer towards the early morning hours, the silence dissolved into laughter as one by one people began joking around, and giving each other some affectionate shit. The later it got the louder and more joyful we became, laughing harder and longer, because, well, we were stuck here no matter what so we might as well try to enjoy it.

But despite the laughter I was grimacing with pain on the inside. My back was aching, and with every pinch of a hair my thumb and forefinger burned worse, then eventually began to tingle with numbness. Yet the thought never even occurred to me to stop, not even for a second.

It was the first time I had ever worked with these guys, I had to prove I could handle it. More importantly, I had to prove to myself I could handle it. All of my past work experience had been in fine-dining and at small catering companies. This kitchen was extremely high-volume, producing food at a level I had never experienced before, and I certainly had my own doubts on whether or not I could hack it. So I pushed back against the pain, laughed a little harder at the jokes, and challenged myself to clean the corn even quicker.

I noticed a couple of other guys stretch their backs a bit, or crack their necks. But not one of them complained, everyone just kept on cleaning corn. Mainly because stopping wasn’t a choice. It had to get done, period, and we were the only ones to do it.

It’s times in the kitchen like these, when I feel like a complete disaster and hardship has occurred, that I try to remember that actual tragedies and disasters are occurring all over the world.  Every day people endure real moments of challenge. Events that truly test one’s strength and endurance. Times when you discover if you really can keep going despite the fact that everything around you has shifted or disappeared. And I’ve found, that when it feels like your world has ended, if you can keep on breathing, keep on pushing despite the pain; then in the end, it will always be alright. There will always be another moment of joy, and happiness, and laughter, if only you just keep going.

Until the next bite,
Jenn

This? Is what pure joy looks like. Also known as my dog Butter with a rib-eye bone. 

Sunday, July 14, 2013

Artichokes Stuffed with Caponata


This dish is absolutely perfect for a warm summer evening, when you are feeling totally relaxed and have nothing other to do than linger over a great meal, enjoying the taste of each leaf as you slowly scrape it’s meat and caponata-stuffing off with your teeth. Artichokes are not a quick food to prep or eat, but that just ensures you will take the time to notice how fantastic these are.

This recipe calls for garlic confit, which is incredibly easy to make, and if you like garlic, is going to be your new crack. It tastes amazing in basically anything, but especially by itself on some good bread. Plus the oil preserves the garlic so you can make a big batch to pull from for weeks. All you need to do is place your peeled cloves in a small pot, cover them with oil, and bring the oil to a very low simmer. Small bubbles should rise to the surface slowly, you don’t want to deep fry the garlic. Maintain the low simmer until a knife or tester slides easily in and out of the cloves. Cool the garlic in its oil, and voila!

Makes: about 4 servings
Time: 35 minutes



Ingredients:
4 mini artichokes (You can use 2 large ones as well and it should work out the same)

1 medium/small eggplant
3 lipstick peppers
2 gypsy peppers
1 sprig rosemary
6 sprigs thyme
salt, freshly cracked black pepper, and olive oil as needed
10 cloves garlic confit
2 Tbsp. garlic confit oil
1 Tbsp. red wine vinegar
2 Tbsp. chopped fresh Basil
1 Tbsp. chopped fresh Oregano
1 tsp. lemon juice

¼ cup parmesan cheese

Method:

Pre-heat your oven to 425 F. Next, fill a large pot half-way with water, and bring it to a boil.

Now for veggie prep. First clean your artichokes- cut off the top ¼ inch and the very end of the stem as well. Peel off any small extra leaves on the base, and clip off each of the large leaf tips with scissors. (Try not to stab yourself!) When finished, wash your hands because they are covered in bitter artichoke dust- trust me, I lick my fingers enough to know.

Next clean your peppers- cut off the stems, cut them each in half lengthwise, and remove the pith and seeds.

Finally, dice your eggplant into ½ inch cubes, and discard the stem and leaves.



Toss your eggplant and peppers with olive oil, salt, and pepper. Place them on a parchment lined baking sheet with the rosemary and thyme. Roast until very soft, and caramelized on the outside. It takes about 15 minutes in my oven (which is about a hundred years old, only heats from the bottom, and always runs hot.)

Right after you place the veggies in the oven, or at the same time if you have four hands, place the artichokes in a steamer basket in the large pot of boiling water. Steam for about 15 minutes, or until the leaves pull easily away. Then run under cold water to stop from over-cooking.

When the veg is finished roasting, let cool a bit, then toss in a bowl with the rest of your herbs, the garlic confit, the garlic confit oil, vinegar, and lemon juice. In order to make this capanta stuffable, you’re going to need to blend it with the immersion blender, or pulse it in a food processor until it is a somewhat chunky dip. While this isn’t exactly traditional, it is absolutely delicious and tastes just as great on bread or other vegetables as it does stuffed in artichokes.



Now to stuff those chokes. Holding the stem, turn each choke upside down and push the cut side down with force onto the cutting board. This will push out the leaves and make space for stuffing. Using a small butter knife, swipe the stuffing in between each layer of leaves, making sure to make your way all the way around. Caponata will probably ooze up and out but thats okay, this will hold the parmesan cheese in place that you’re now sprinkling on the top of the chokes.

Finally, place the chokes back in the oven, upright if possible. You can also throw them on the barbecue if you happen to also be grilling up steaks (you should be). Heat for a good ten minutes to make sure they are hot, and that the cheese has melted and crisped up. Now go, eat, drink, and be merry.



Saturday, July 13, 2013

Things that stop me in my tracks, even if it's just to drool.


The epitome of a perfect lunch to linger over- Syrah-soaked Parmigian Regianno, Mortadella, Hobb's Proscuitto, Honeyed Gouda Goat Cheese, Port Salut, Honey-Roasted Figs, Pomegranate Coulis, and Apricot Mustarda. 


Thursday, July 11, 2013

Things that stop me in my tracks, even if it's just to drool.


Thanks to pinterest I found this stunning blog, la casa sin tiempo. It contains a gorgeous collection of  food photos that are so beautiful they hardly even need words to accompany them. 

Tuesday, July 9, 2013

Food Philosophy #4- You have to eat to live, why not live to eat?

“If there was a pill that provided all of my nutritional requirements I would happily take that over eating.”
-Jenn Davis

How could you possibly want to take a capsule over eating these? 

That is something I actually used to say, back when I was still an undergrad. I can hardly believe it now, but keep in mind at the time I felt my limited funds were better spent on drinking-focused activities rather than eating. Plus, the summer I said this blasphemous statement most frequently, I happened to be living at a frat house that had it’s own pool (long story, one I will save for another time). Happy side effect of subsisting on a mainly liquid diet? You look fantastic in a bikini. I still burst out laughing at the fact that these were actual thoughts I entertained. In my head, and everything. Possibly (probably) even spoke aloud.

Now all of my thoughts consist of, “Oh my god what I’m eating is so fricken good,” or “How far away is the next meal at which I will be able to eat something good? That far? Maybe I should have a snack.”

I am now firmly, without doubt, in the live-to-eat-camp. If it has to do with food? You have my attention. For instance in high school I could never wrap my head around Chemistry, but the moment I read all about proteins and lipids in Harold Mcgee’s book it all made sense. And on top of that? It was actually interesting.

Basically, if we’re going to be straight up honest here, my dearest wish in life is to be able to constantly eat, without ever filling up. I have the heart of the fattest fat kid you will ever meet, and it takes extreme determination to ensure my ass doesn’t grow to match.

Joking aside, I truly believe that eating just for the sake of eating, is important. Of course the end result, of nourishing oneself and satisfying hunger is the key goal, but taking pleasure from the act itself can be soul-satisfying on a different level.

There is nothing I’d rather do more than sit with a loved one and talk over a meal for hours, slowly savoring each bite, maybe taking a few extra even though your stomach is full, just because it tastes good. It’s decadent, its luxurious, and it speaks directly to that underlying desire for complete indulgence. Yes eating is a necessary act, but it’s also a seductive one, and therefore should be enjoyed.


Eating should be deliberate for reasons other than pure pleasure, as well. Have you noticed how when you rush through a meal without really noticing it you still feel hungry after? It’s easy to dash through life, to hurry to the end result and forget to notice the journey. Of course it’s simpler to just cram down a power bar during your drive to work, rather than wake up early and cook an omelet.  But is it really more nourishing? Are you really as satisfied?

Of course in a perfect world we would all be able to whip up gorgeous omelets and savor them slowly in bed, but the fact of the matter is, most of us have jobs. And families. And shit that needs to be dealt with now, not an hour from now when you’ve had your leisurely breakfast. During the week I myself can easily turn into the auto-maton eater, cooking the same breakfast every day, forcing it down just so I can start my day with some protein and vitamins, not because I’m actually hungry or excited to eat. But I also make sure I find time to eat for pleasure and appreciate the experience.


It could be as simple as taking a second to grab some fresh rosemary from the garden to add to my chicken salad, or it could be as elaborate as spending all day in the kitchen cooking a fabulous feast for dinner. And on the days I don’t have time for any of that bullshit? I at least try to stop and notice the nuttiness of my power bar.

Until the next bite,
Jenn



Sunday, July 7, 2013

Things that stop me in my tracks, even if it's just to drool.


Food52, usually one of the first websites I visit when 'surfing the web' (is that still a phrase?) has a great  feature called Strange Food History that always has something new and interesting to learn about my favorite topic- all things edible!

Friday, July 5, 2013

Braised and Brined Belly

Pork belly is my all-time favorite pork part, after pork cheeks. In the past I have always made porchetta with it, in an endeavor to emulate the perfect food- RoliRoti. Today however, I was looking for something even more unctuous to top that delicious smoked bread from last week with (I’ve begun making it every week, it’s just so good!) so I decided to brine the belly for a day, before cooking it low and slow in a rich delicious braising liquid that could later become the sauce.



Serves: 6-8
Time: 15 min. prep for brine, 24 hours total brining time’
          30 min. prep for braise, 3.5 hours total braising time

Brine Ingredients:

3 pounds pork belly
½ gallon water
¼ cup sugar
¼ salt
2 Tbsp peppercorns
2 Tbsp allspice berries
2 Tbsp fennel seeds
2 bay leaves

Braise Ingredients:

2 Tbsp grapeseed oil
1 stalk celery
1 small carrot
1 small onion
5 cloves garlic
2 cups apple cider
2 cups chicken stop
1 cup veal stock
½ cup red wine
¼ cup red wine vinegar
2 bay leaves
few sprigs of thyme
Tbsp peppercorns



Method:

In a seriously large container or bowl combine all of the brine ingredients aside from the pork belly and whisk them together. Taste your brining liquid (salty sweet to the max, yes?!) then submerge the pork belly (I used a heavy coffee mug to keep mine under the surface) and refrigerate for 24 hours. I usually talk lovingly to mine every time I open the fridge, but I don’t think that makes a difference.



After 24 hours, pull the pork out and rinse it well. Preheat your oven to 300°F.  In a large dutch oven saute your carrots, onion, celery, and garlic cloves in the grapeseed oil. (You can use any kind of oil with a high smoke point, I’ve just been on a grapeseed kick lately.) Once the mirepoix begins to glimmer with sweat add in your apple cider, chicken stock, veal stock, red wine, and red wine vinegar. Throw in your bay leaves, thyme and peppercorns as well. Bring everything to a simmer, take a taste (blow on it first!) turn off the heat, then slip in the pork belly skin side up.


Cover the dutch oven and place in the oven for 3 hours, turning the pork belly every 45 minutes. The liquid should be just barely simmering, so if it is boiling any harder than that when you take the pork out to flip, turn down the heat. After 3 hours, or whenever your pork belly reaches 160°F, remove the pork from the dutch oven, and let cool.

Strain the braising liquid and reduce until it is napee. Cut the pork belly into cubes, sear on all sides, and place on warm slices of Smoked No-Knead Bread. Drizzle sauce over pork, top with Fennel Apple Slaw and Fig and Lavender Compote, then devour. (Oh, and be sure to lick your fingers!)





Fennel Apple Slaw Laced with Bee Pollen


So recently I discovered a new ingredient, bee pollen. As soon as I heard about it I rushed to order some, since I figured if it was even half as good as fennel pollen, I would love it. It has all sorts of health benefits, but what I’ve fallen for is the taste. It has both a sweet and nutty flavor, and goes especially well with oatmeal and fruit. You can most likely find it at your local farmer’s market, at most health food stores, or online. 

Makes: about 4-6 servings
Time: 30 minutes prep, 1 hour 15 min. total


Ingredients:
½ head cabbage
½ Tbsp. salt
1 bulb fennel
2 granny smith apples
3 Tbsp. extra virgin olive oil
¼ cup cider vinegar
¼ cup raw sugar
½ Tbsp. raw dijon 
½ tsp. chili flakes
½ tsp. bee pollen



Method:
Core you cabbage and slice into into thin strips. Next, place it in a colander in the sink, and toss it with the salt. Let this sit and wilt for the next hour or so. While the cabbage is wilting, julienne your fennel bulb and apples, but be sure to squeeze some lemon juice over them if they are going to sit out for too long. When the cabbage is limp, rinse it extremely well with cold water, then squeeze to release as much liquid as possible. 

Combine the olive oil, vinegar, sugar, dijon, chili flakes, and bee pollen in a pot oven medium heat. Simmer until all ingredients are incorporated. (Taste here!) While this is heating, combine your cabbage, fennel, and apples in a large bowl, then pour the liquid over the vegetables and toss. Place in the fridge until cool, and enjoy. 


Fig and Lavender Compote

This recipe is so simple, and makes such a great accompaniment to any kind of poultry or meat, as well as cheese! You know me, if it goes with either of those two, then I’m down.


Makes: about 1.5 cups
Time: 30 min. approximately

Ingredients

1 cup fresh figs, destemmed and quarted
1/2 cup water
2 Tbsp sugar
2 Tbsp white balsamic vinegar
juice from ½ a lemon
1 sprig lavandar
2 pinches salt
1 pinch fennel pollen


Method

After you have destemmed and quartered your figs, combine them in a pot with the water, sugar, vinegar, lemon juice, salt, and pollen. A quick side note- you can almost always find lavender at your local farmer’s market, or even by the side of the road if you’re lucky! I grow mine in my front garden, and so far I have not managed to kill it, which says a lot about the plant. I order my fennel pollen online and have not seen it in stores. It is one of my all time favorite ingredients, and adds a beautiful ethereal layer of flavor to almost any food. I would try to describe it's essence better, but to me it just tastes like sunshine.

Tie your sprigs up in a cheesecloth bundle, or enclose them in a tea ball infuser. Place the lavender in the pot along with the other ingredients, and turn the heat to medium. Let everything simmer until the liquid is reduced to about 3 Tbsp. worth. Taste and adjust to your preferences. Then turn off the heat, and blend. Voila! Fresh fig and lavender compote that can even be jarred and stored to use during the long dreary winter months.

Thursday, July 4, 2013

Things that stop me in my tracks, even if it's just to drool.


Red White and Bubbly!

Take a glass of your favorite Champagne or Prosecco, add 1.5 tsp. of cranberry puree, and all the berries you can find! My only other advice is to make sure you have more than one bottle of bubbly on hand because you will not want to stop drinking this! 

Tuesday, July 2, 2013

Food Philosophy #3- If It Smells Good, It Is Good

“Do you smell that?” My boyfriend’s nose lifts in the air as he inhales deeper. I follow suit, as we continue to make our way down Market St. towards the Ferry Building’s farmer’s market.

“Oh My God, what is that?!?” I have never smelled anything this good. It reminds me faintly of roast chicken, but richer, deeper, sexier. I am now powerless to do anything but find the source of this aroma, and luckily the boyfriend is in happy agreement. As we continue down our original path the crave-inducing fragrance intensifies, it must be coming from a food tent at the Farmer’s Market- what luck! (Though I would have followed it across the state if necessary.)

Making our way through the tents filled with luscious produce and stunning flowers, I find myself wishing I could survive solely from inhales. When we spot the tent that has a line winding back so far it is impossible to see the end of, we know this must be the source. My mouth pools with an ocean tide of drool as I am completely submerged in this Siren scent.

The sun beats down and the line moves forward at a tortuous pace, but that magnificent aroma is more than enough motivation to hold steady. We’re so close! Finally, I spot through gaps in the line a truck that is basically a huge rotisserie on wheels. Each rack is strung with golden, perfectly cylindrical roasts that drip glistening droplets of fat as they slowly rotate. By now I am all animal instinct, a lion that has one singular goal in life.


As we inch forward a sign comes into view and I can make out the words Porchetta Sandwich, but I have never heard of such a thing. It hardly matters. Whatever it is, I know down to my very soul it will be life-changing. Finally, at last, it is our turn. The angel behind the cash register hands us our treasure, explaining that porchetta is “pork belly rubbed with fresh herbs and garlic, wrapped around a pork tenderloin, and roasted on a rotating spit." And I thought nothing could make me want this sandwich more.

Before even finding a seat, I am tearing into the bag and lifting my prize to my mouth. My teeth sink into the bread, which is glorious in and of itself, but the meat within obliterates my world. It is silken and plump, meltingly tender and slippery with the salty, velvety, fat that screams of bacon and all that is holy. The intense roasted essence of the meat is married melodiously with the slight bitterness of arugula and sweet tinge of onion marmalade. But that’s not even the best part. The part that is truly transcendent are the ‘cracklings’ hidden within the sandwich, which are little pieces of shatteringly crisp belly skin.


The pleasure of this moment is so exquisite I wonder if I will ever again taste something as good as this. I highly doubt it.

It’s been years since my first taste of Roli-Roti’s porchetta sandwich, and I still have yet to taste anything better. I also have yet to smell anything better, and I believe the two go hand in hand. Since the day I smelled Roli-Roti, I have lived my life by the unwavering belief that if something smells good, it always tastes good too. As a result, good smells have led me into some amazing as well as terrifying places, but every last one has ended in an unbelievably good meal.

There was even one tiny, grungy taqueria across from my apartment in god forbid, the Tenderloin, that smelled way too good to be true. I have never been less sure about eating somewhere but I had to try it, if only to test my smell theory. This was the place I discovered deep fried bacon and steak fajitas- enough said.

 What I’ve learned above all else from following my nose is that sometimes, things really are that simple. The older I get the more cynical, negative, and judgemental I seem to become. I often catch myself looking for all the reasons not to act, not to decide, for fear of being disappointed. But following my nose reminds me that when I feel that burning certainty deep down inside that this could be it, whether it is a startling new dream for my life or just a sandwich -go for it! Stop doubting and worrying, forget the obstacles, the what-ifs, and the worst possible outcomes. Have faith that if it smells good, it is good.

 Until the next bite,
 Jenn

Sunday, June 30, 2013

Things that stop me in my tracks, even if it's just to drool.


So,  I was totally set to be all chill for the Fourth of July. Throw together some deviled eggs, grill some burgers and corn, and most of all relax! I proudly told my boyfriend how I was just going to simplify, enjoy the day, and buy brioche buns at Trader Joe's. But then I saw these on Smitten Kitchen, and I read the hundreds of rave reviews about this recipe online, and, well.... how can I possibly resist?  

Saturday, June 29, 2013

No-knead Bread, Smoked Edition






(Adapted from Jim Lahey's No-Knead Recipe)

I have been fascinated by the idea of smoking flour since the New York Times article on Pearl and Ash’s smoked bread. Smoking and bread are two of my all time favorite things, so how could I pass up an opportunity to combine the two? I am madly in love with Jim Lahey’s no knead recipe, so I decided to try it out with smoked flour to shake things up a bit. Rest assured I tasted each item at every step of the process, including a bit of the raw smoked flour, and of course, the dough!


Makes: 1-1.5 pound loaf
Time:  smoking: ½ hour
          prep, folding, and shaping: 15 minutes
          rise time: 12-18 hours, plus 2 more hours
          cook time: 45 min - 1 hour

Ingredients:

3 cups bread or AP flour + extra for dusting
1/4 teaspoon instant yeast
1 1/4 teaspoons salt
cornmeal as needed



Method:

To smoke the flour, you can either use an outside smoker, stove top smoker, or even a large stock pot with a tight fitting lid and steamer insert. I used my big cheif smoker and cherry wood chips for this session. Rig up your smoker, whatever that entails, and pour your flour into a cake pan. Mist the flour in order to let the smoke penetrate better. Once your chips are smoking, place the cake pan of flour inside your smoker, and let the magic happen for thirty minutes.




Next, remove the flour, cool, and sift into a large bowl to remove any clumps. Inhale that sweet smokey scent and take a little taste, I dare you! Add your yeast and salt, than mix in 1 5/8 cups of water until you have a wet, shaggy dough. Cover the bowl in plastic wrap and let rise in a 70°F area for 12-18 hours (preferably 18).


Once your dough is filled with tiny air bubbles and enough time has passed, scoop it onto a seriously floured surface. Submerge your hands in flour as well, before folding the dough once or twice. A pastry bench scraper can be useful with this. Cover it loosely with plastic wrap, and let rest for 15 minutes.



Next, dust a 100% cotten towel with flour and cornmeal before quickly shaping the dough into a ball. In order to accomplish this you will need a lot of flour, and the acceptance of mess-making as well as covering yourself in wet sticky dough. Taste it again! Place the ball, (which will totally flatten out into more of a disk, don’t worry about it) seam side down on the towel. Then dust with more flour and cornmeal, and cover with a second cotton towel. Let rise for 2 hours.



Preheat your oven to 450°F a half hour before the dough is finished rising, and place a medium sized ceramic or cast iron dutch oven inside to heat. When the dough has doubled in size and readily springs back from a poke, lift up the towel encasing the dough, and slide the dough off of it into the pot. It will now be seam side up, and basically a mess, but don’t worry, it will come out beautifully! Shake the pan a couple times to evenly distribute the dough, cover, and bake for 30 minutes. Remove the lid, then bake for 15 or 30 more minutes until the bread is beautifully browned. Cool on a rack and listen closely as the crust crackles- one of my absolute favorite sounds. Now taste, taste, taste, then taste some more!