Chop and Stir

Big Porchetta

I've been intrigued with porchetta since my first porchetta sandwich at Il Cane Rosso a few years ago. Complete with cracklings, the sandwich is a satisfying meal of thinly sliced moist pork on a roll. It doesn't appear that it's currently on their menu. What to do if you have a craving for some luscious porchetta?

How to do this at home? I found a number of home modifications of porchetta, but they seemed like lame watered down versions of the real deal: take a pork loin and wrap it in pancetta, take a pork shoulder and make slashes all over to infuse with herbs. No, no, no, let's do this pro style. No shortcuts.

Saveur to the rescue with their classic porchetta recipe. A 15 pound slab of pork belly attached to a 5 pound pork loin? Intriguing. Tell me more. Enter Chili, from Bi-Rite. Hard to imagine a better name for a butcher.  With a whole pig from Gleason Ranch coming in the afternoon of the day that I'm calling, he's going to make the perfect cut for the job.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Here's the beast, with the loin at the bottom of the picture.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Skin side up:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chili suggests using an x-acto knife to slice the skin, so you can control the depth of your cut. I'm trying to make slashes about 1.5 inches apart, in a cross-hatch pattern, at 1/4 inch depth, to cut through the skin into the fat, but not into the meat, so that the juices won't leak out during cooking.

 

 

 

 

1/2 inch deep slashes in the meat, to allow for the spice mixture to get into the meat.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A spice mixture of lemon zest, garlic, fennel seeds, and crush red chilis, after thoroughly seasoning the meat with kosher salt and black pepper.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And then we tightly roll, so that the loin is encased in the pork belly. Tie the roll tightly with doubled-up butchers twine. Seal in two clean plastic garbage bags, and refrigerate for 24 hours.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Let the roast warm to room tempeture by removing from refrigerator 3 hours before roasting. Roast on a rack and a large sheet pan--this one took a full size restaurant sheet pan--at 325 for about 3 hours, till the internal temperature reaches 130 degree. Then, the fun starts. You roll it under your broiler, so that the tough skin blisters into some decadent cracklings. Yum. I didn't do the baking soda rub like the recipe calls for, maybe next time. I bet that keeps the skin from burning.

 

 

 

Supper time! I like how the layer of herbs separates the loin from the pork belly. And how there's a juicy layer of fat all around and inside.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Unless you have an oven which will accommodate a full size restaurant sheet pan, I'd recommend a 10 pound roast. That will feed a small army anyway.

More culture for 22K

We've had a sourdough culture growing since 1996. And now it's getting a sibling-- a bucket of sauerkraut. I've long been a fan of sauerkraut, even the stuff from the ballpark. As you might imagine, the sauerkraut that you make from fresh organic cabbage, with minimal processing, is a million times better than the baseball variety. Here's the final product, in the good company of some fatty pork, a thick-cut pork chop. The sauerkraut is trivially simple to make. Now that I've got it going, I think I'll just keep adding some cabbage to it every so often, as we eat some of the sauerkraut, to keep the culture going. Maybe 16 more years? I used a recipe I found online, on Wild Fermentation. Here's my setup above. Lots of cabbage-- I had about a dozen heads of cabbage, a mandoline, and a food-grade plastic bucket with lid. I bet that just about any kind of bucket like container with a lid will work. You want to find a plate that will just fit into the bucket. More on that in a sec. As the recipe tells you, just start slicing the cabbage with a mandoline, in a uniform thickness. As you add it to a large bowl to collect it, sprinkle it with a liberal amount of kosher salt, so that the cabbage will start to sweat. The fresher the cabbage the better, as it will have more water in it.  As you're accumulating salted cabbage, just throw it into your bucket. By the time you're done, you'll have a bucket full of salty cabbage, sitting in the brine that it has created for itself.

From Sauerkraut

Here's what is looked like just before I pushed down with a plate. Then, I put a large container of water on top of the plate to hold it down. The container has a lid on it, so I wouldn't spill any of the water when moving the bucket around. For the next few hours, you want to be somewhat diligent about pushing down on the plate via whatever you've put on top of the plate, so that you end up with a layer of water above your plate. The sauerkraut needs to be in an anaerobic environment--not exposed to air--otherwise you'll have a fungus among us. Instead, you want the natural bacteria in the cabbage to culture, and create a vinegar that will end up transforming the raw cabbage into a beautiful thing.

From Sauerkraut

It took about 3 weeks to get to something I'd call sauerkraut. I tried it periodically up till then, and it was more like raw cabbage. I stored it at about 65-70 degrees in our garage and dining room. Now, at about 10 weeks, it's still tasting fine, even better than at 3 weeks into it. I'll be getting some more cabbage tomorrow, to feed the machine. Getting ready for some brats.

From Sauerkraut

Hand-canned

Mike: Wow, these hand-canned tomatoes make the best sauce ever!

Alex: What does hand-canned mean?

Mike: It means that our friends Suzanne and Peter preserved these vibrant San Mariano tomatoes from Marquita Farms with care in their home, by hand, instead of in a huge factory.

Alex: Wow, how come all farms don't do that?

Mike: Good question!

I do wonder what the economics of canning organic, small production tomatoes would be. They did make one of the more memorable pasta dishes I've made in a while.  Compared to even the best San Marzano tomatoes I've worked with, these tomatoes were so much more dense and flavorful, much less watery. Suzanne told me of the story that Marquita accidently planted San Mariano instead of San Marzano, so maybe that's part of the story.

All that these tomatoes need was a a rough chop. I added them to an EVO saute of onions and garlic, and voila pasta magic.

Tale of the tomato

Mike to Cheryl, "So, how did we end up with so many onions?" Cheryl explains, "Well, it's because neither of us has cooked anything in a while." So sad. But that still doesn't explain why there's 10 forlorn, large yellow onions staring at me from our kitchen counters.

Seizing the moment, I remember that Cheryl last week bought 6 large cans of whole peeled stewed tomatoes from Trader Joes. "A new variety, I thought we should try them," she tells me. Ahh, perhaps that was the sign that I missed.

And we're we have it, the tale of the tomato, old versus new:

Left to right: New stock at TJs, the San Marzano; old stock at TJs, tomatoes of unknown origin

The hands down winner is the new variety, I hope that TJ's keep getting it. I didn't actually taste them, but the San Marzano feels much more like a piece of food going through the foley food mill, while the old stock is feels more like I'm grinding a soggy baseball. I can see why Wikipedia is telling me that San Marzano is considered by most chefs to be the best saucing tomato on the block. I get the feeling that these tomatoes are imported from Italy. At least the "Pomidori Pelati" wording on the label, and the fact that they are distributed by "Simpson Imports" leads me to believe these aren't a domestic product.

And thusly, our recipe for an impromptu enormous pot of tomato sauce this evening is 8 large cans of tomatoes (I found two of the older variety in the cupboards) run through a food mill, 8 onions diced (2 of them were too far gone), a head of garlic (minced), and some accumulated rinds of parmigiano regiano. Check out our earlier posting on Spaghetti and Tomato Sauce for more details.

Look at the raging red color of this sauce. Yea, it's gonna be good!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A few lessons learned from tonight's brief, but educational cooking session:

• Keep several jars of plum tomatoes on hand-- always--as you never know when you'll feel the need to make a large amount of sauce or the need to use up bags and bags of onions
• Look for the new San Marzano variety at TJs-- they'll vastly improve your saucing quality of life.

 

Going big

It's asparagus season now and I'm taking advantage of the rare sunny evenings after work to do some grilling in the front yard.

Pictured here are some monster asparagus roasting over some almond wood. This is the first time I've ventured into the world of oversized asparagus, and I'm glad I did. They have a meatiness and sweetness that you won't find in the smaller variety. These stalks are about 3/4 to 1 inch in diameter at the bottom of the stalk, for reference.

With asparagus this large--and this expensive--you definitely want to peel the bottom of the stalks, as that's where some of the best parts of the vegetable are.  I used to be challenged by the idea of peeling asparagus, but I think I've finally uncovered the secret.

When I get the asparagus home from the market, I cut off about 1/2 off the bottom, just as I would with flowers. Then, I'll put the bunch in about 2 inches of water in tall container and cover the asparagus and container all with a plastic or composting bag.

This practice has two benefits. First, it keeps your asparagus fresher for longer--keeps it firm and bright green. Second, because the bottom of the stalk has been soaking in water, it becomes much easier to peel with your basic vegetable peeler. Otherwise, the peel is a bit like leather or plastic--very tough to peel.

To roast these on the grill, I'll first do the basic treatment of EVO, kosher salt, and freshly ground black pepper. Then, grill them directly over the fire for about 2-3 minutes until somewhat charred, then i'll move them off flame, to the distant side of the grill, and cover the Weber with all vents open and the lid slightly askew to let the fire breath more. After about 10 minutes, the asparagus have softened a bit, and are looking like they've been roasted in a high heat oven. Perfect.

Roasting time

There's nothing like a CSA box to get you out of a rut-- and to get you to cook something and just eat really well. We had an abundance of vegetables this week compliments of the CSA basket that our friends Jocelyn and Miles sent over. Suddenly, I feel more connected with the earth and the seasons. Really.

Whole roasted asparagus, slices of fennel, yellow carrot fries, and whole roasted baby beets. You can't help but feel connected to the earth with all of the vegetables. For all of these vegies, there's a variety of cooking techniques that you can use, but nothing locks in and concentrates the flavors like a high heat roast. Apply the same roasting principles to all of them: season with kosher salt and pepper just before roasting, toss in some extra virgin olive oil, and then spread out in a single layer on a large sheet pan.

Ideally, the vegetables are spread out enough that they are hardly touching. You want the heat to be able to reach deep into your vegetables as quickly as possible, otherwise, you'll get more of a steamed effect. If they steam instead of roast, you'll lose the vibrant colors of your vegetables, and fail to carmelize the sugars which gives them a beautiful browned color and naturally some sweetness.

The aspargus looked so fresh that I took the time to peel the bottom 2-3 inches of the tough skin. That meant I had to trim off only about 1/4 inch off the bottom of each stalk. Glad I did that-- every inch of these was worth eating. I found that if Iay the stalk on a cutting board and peel it, turning the stalk with the non-peeling hand, that allows me to peel without breaking the stalk. Also, I need to keep a bowl of water handy to wash the peelings of my peeler frequently.

In the picture of the finished asparagus and fennel, note the vibrant green of the aspargus. They tasted every bit as good as they look.

For the fennel, nothing special except cutting them in about 1/4 inch slices, with the same kosher salt, white pepper, and EVO treatment. They were sweet and licorice-like, without any of the bitterness that one sometimes gets with fennel.

The beets were too perfect to chop, so I decided to roast them whole. I prefer to peel them before roasting, so that the precious beet juices form a crunchy sweet carmelization on the outside of the beet. All that gets lost if you opt to roast them and then peel them (or scrub them with a kitchen towel) after roasting. Also, after you peel them, don't wash them, as that will just introduce unwanted water into the whole situation, and you'll get steamed beets.

The stalks from the greens were actually kind of edible. They got a little burnt, but again the burnt sugars saved the day. Keeping the stems on from the beet greens also makes them much easier to peel-- of course you could lop off the stems just after peeling, but I think it makes for a pretty cool effect to keep them on.

How long do these vegetables take to cook? As long as it takes till they're done. Seriously. Set your oven to the highest temperature it will go to, and leave it there for 30-45 minutes. Then you're ready to roast.  One might argue that this pre-heating is bad for the environment, and I don't have a great answer to that. Except to say that there's certainly some environmental benefit to getting the most out of the food in our kitchen, and making unprocessed foods much more attractive than foods from the center aisles.

We have a 10-year old Thermador range that has an analog temperature dial.  The last number on the dial is "500", so I turn it past the 500, just before I can feel the broil mechanism click on. At this setting, the oven just stays on.

Check out the carrot fries to the right. See all those browned bits of extreme goodness? Yea! I thought they were parsnips at first, so I had planned on doing some parsnip fries, which I first started doing many Thanksgivings ago, inspired by one of those feel-good Thanksgiving spreads in Gourmet magazine. The tradition continues, now with these yellow carrot beauties. I'm curious to see if you can fool your kids into trying these, as they resemble french fries, and maybe your kids will even like them.

 

Kitchen tested by cheryl

We're one for two this week on SF Chronicle recipes. Yesterday's kale and tofu was good, but probably not worth repeating. Today's shrimp and grits was a winner!

While reading the Chronicle from cover to cover, as she does on most weekdays, Cheryl spotted Shrimp and Grits with Tomato Bacon Relish.  I just noticed that the recipe calls this a side dish. Ooops. We had it as a main. It's a very hearty main, at that.  1/4 pound of bacon will do that to you.

As far as modifications, you could just use some good organic polenta instead of the grits, if you happen to have that around the house. Cheryl also added one fresh chopped tomato to the relish, which gave it more of a fresh flavor.

All in all, a good week day dish, especially if it's a cold and rainy weekday.

Pasta e fagioli (bean and pasta soup)

 

Winter is back in San Francisco, time for a soul warming soup. I think I've finally figured out the bean de-gassing thing. It's all about the boiling water speed soak. I've tried this recipe before with just an overnight soak-- results not so good. Family very unhappy for the next several hours.

I think the speed soak works so well because the hot water can draw out and dissolve the otherwise undigestible starches in the beans. For this attempt, I actually did an overnight soak as well, and noticed that the soaking water looked perfectly clear in the morning-- hard to believe that it did much at all, besides plump up the beans. But, after the speed soak, the soaking water was noticeably murky and starchy. Makes you really want to get rid of that water.

About the beans--- get some good ones. The first step in buying some good beans is to toss the ones that have been in your cupboard since you moved into your house. Go to Rancho Gordo or head to Rainbow Grocery in San Francisco to get Rancho Gordo cranberry beans. I get the feeling that Rainbow goes through their beans pretty quickly with all the crunchy shopper types there, so the beans there are fresh.

Here's the recipe, adapted from Patricia's Well's Trattoria. This is a big batch, so you might want to just make half. Serves 12-16 bowls.

Ingredients

• 5 cups (4 pounds) dried cranberry beans (aka borlott beans)
• 4 medium carrots, peeled and medium dice
• 2 medium onions, peeled and medium dice
• 3 stalks celery, medium dice
• 4 medium cloves garlic, minced
• 4 T extra virgin olive oil
• 1/2 pound pasta-- whatever you like- macoroni, broken spaghetti
• 1/2 cup pancetta, diced
• 4 bay leaves
• 1 bunch parsley

About an hour and a half before you're going to cook, heat a pot of about 2 gallons of water to boil. Dump in the beans so that they are covered by 1-2 inches of water. Cover and let soak for an hour.

Meanwhile, prep your vegetables. Heat a large, heavy bottom pot (e.g. Le Creuset) over medium heat, add olive oil carrots, celery, onion and pancetta. Stir and cook about 10 minutes to soften the vegetables. Add garlic, stirring for another minute.

Tie the parsley and bay leaves into a bundle with some butcher's twine.

Drain and rinse your beans a few times under the wash water is clear. Add the drained beans to your vegetables. Add 3 quarts water and your herb bundle. You don't want to add stock or salt yet, because the salt will toughen the skin, and the beans won't soften. Bring to a boil, and then reduce heat to a simmer. Cover and simmer over low heat for 45 minutes to an hour, until the beans are somewhat tender. 

Add 3 quarts chicken or vegetable stock, salt and pepper to taste. Cook for 45 minutes more, or until beans are fairly tender.  Remove the herb bundle and any bay leaves or parsley floating freely in the soup.

To blend the soup, first remove about a quart of the solids to a bowl. Use a large ladle or slotted spoon. With your stick blender on low, and then to its highest setting, blend the soup in the large pot. It should thicken considerably as you blend. You don't want it to be perfectly smooth, but it should be somewhat creamy with few large chunks.

Re-add the reserved beans and vegatables, bringing the soup back to a simmer. Drop your pasta, and cook over low heat until the pasta has softened.  Stir the soup frequently here, as it can easily get stuck on the bottom of the pot and burn.

Ladle soup into warm bowls and top with a dash of quality extra virgin olive oil and some large crystals of sea salt. Some fresh bread on the side for dipping and cleaning up the last drop.

You can make this soup a few days ahead of time, and add some water or stock when you reheat, as it will be excessively thick otherwise.

Here's some video clips, enjoy!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chop and Dry

In just about a week, I will have successfully dried all organic material in the Shwe household, minus the Shwe's themselves.  It's been a fun few days playing with the food dehydrator that Cheryl got me for Christmas. One of the best things about it is that it's a good excuse to empty your refrigerator of various fruits that have been lingering because you just haven't had the urge to eat them. Like the 3 bags of cranberries or the two dozen apples that I've turned into handy and delicious snacks.

I dried about a dozen apples last night, and voila, they are all gone now. So, it's going to be another night of dehydrating. Since we tend to have bananas lying around, I'll fill in some of the excess capacity with sliced bananas again. In this dehydrator, the bananas taste so much better than the nasty fried bits that are commercially available. Apples are equally good, and super easy because you can just core and slice them. I read that you can dip the bananas and apples in pineapple juice before drying them for added sweetness, but that seems like a pain, and they are plenty good just as they are.

This weekend, we'll be doing some beef jerky. Thanks to our friends and Dave and Carol Sams who showed us the simplicity of their food dehydrator, and won us over with the beef jerky that they made-- a million times better than the commercially available shoe leather. 

Here's the before picture, with some sliced apples sitting in front of the Excalibur dehydrator:

 

And here's the after picture, some bananas and apples, ready for some snackin':

Papa, papardelle

Cover of Essentials of Classic Italian Cooking

Another good rainy day activity---making pasta from just flour and eggs. I haven't done this in a few years, so we had to reach deep into the cupboards for the Atlas pasta roller. Ahh, still there.

I dusted of Marcella Hazan's Essentials of Classic Italian Cooking, and checked out her thoughts on pasta. 00 flour good, semolina bad. OK. So, I compromised with 2 cups of 00 (that I got for making pizza's), 1/2 cup of finely ground semolina. Plus 5 whole eggs.  That turns out to be the right amount of pasta for about 5 servings. And it was just right because we had only 5 eggs  in the house.

All in all, it was a success. Alex and I had a fun time rolling it out, he being my pasta "machine", cranking the Atlas. The poor boy just about wet his pants when we hit "6", and produced a 5 foot long, see through ribbon of pasta. I'll do a demo of that technique soon, which I vaguely recall from a few grueling Saturdays of making pasta at Acquerello ten years ago.

We made some papardelle, longing for some bolegnese, but settling for a liason of butter and parmigiano regiano. Where else can you find that ethereal, melt-in-your mouth quality--only from homemade pasta.

Alex shows off his technique for bow-tie pasta, that he picked up at Steve & Kate's summer camp.