This Little Piggy Came Home

piggy bank vidya suryBaking can be a little trickier, but most of the time when I try a new savory recipe, I’m pretty sure of the end result.

But, not always.

I got three pretty pork loin chops a few weeks ago.  They were thick, but not so thick that they’d be a pain to cook.    I got them on sale because they were slightly long in the tooth.  Not so much that they were furry, but soon would be.  So, they needed to be cooked or frozen right away.But the upshot was, I bought three pretty respectable chops for $3.  And, I had a recipe that I’d been wanting to try.  The only thing I needed to pick up was a small carton of half & half.

The recipe was for a garlicky spinach sauce.  Then put the meat in it and serve with egg noodles and a green salad.

Sounds like we had a nice dinner, doesn’t it?

Yeah, not so much.

Unfortunately, is wasn’t this type of funk…

Somewhere along the way, the sauce picked up some funk.  Not funk like food gone bad, but funk like a whole lot of cheese was in it.

But there was no cheese in anything.  I felt like I was in one of those babysitter horror movies, “It’s coming from inside the house!”, only “It’s coming from inside the sauce!”. I think the spinach and mushrooms just turned the earthy flavor of the sauce up to about a thousand and eleven.  It didn’t work.

So, I am not sharing that recipe.  Instead, I’m going to give you a dish that I have been making for as long as we’ve been married.  And because I’ve been making it since well before I could cook worth a fig, it’s easy.

Pork and Zucchini Cream

zucchini pork

1 pound boneless pork loin, cut into 2 X ½ inch strips

2 tablespoons butter

2 tablespoons vegetable oil

1 pound zucchini, washed, left unpeeled and sliced into ½ inch rounds

1 yellow onion chopped

4-6 cloves garlic

½ teaspoon dry thyme

2 cups heavy cream

¾ cup skim milk

Red pepper flakes (optional)

Big handful of fresh parsley

Salt & pepper

Place the sliced zucchini into colander and sprinkle with ½ teaspoon of salt and let sit for an hour.  After an hour, pat it dry with towel (paper or clean kitchen).

In a large heavy skillet, add half the oil and butter.  When butter’s melted, working in batches, place the zucchini down in one layer and cook at medium-high until there is deep caramelization, flip and cook other side.  Remove to towel-covered plate.  Repeat until all veg is cooked, adding a bit more butter and oil as needed.Add the rest of the fat, onions, and thyme into the same pan and cook until the onions get golden.  Add garlic, and when it just begins to toast, pour in dairy and add pepper flakes.  Lower to medium, bring to boil and let reduce. 

After ten minutes season pork strips and add to sauce.  Cook for ten more minutes or until it’s is of sauce consistency.  Stir in zucchini & parsley and serve over starch of your choice—something unexpected is fun; like Israeli couscous, griddled Texas toast, or grits.

Serves 6.So, there’s a true yin and yang this week.

On the dark side is the reminder that I’m not infallible discerning the flavor of the dish by reading the recipe.

But, on the happier end of the scale, even when I couldn’t cook, every once in a while, I and my diners would get lucky, and I’d turn out something that was actually tasty.Thanks for your time.

They call me Tater Salad

Both of us were very happy at dinner tonight.For Petey, there were big, fat, baked pork chops. When I took them from the freezer, I made a rub using coffee salt, freshly cracked peppercorns, ground caraway seeds, thyme, and fresh rosemary.  I rubbed it all over the chops and put them in the fridge to thaw.

When it came time to cook them I tossed them into a bag of flour.  Them I ran them through a pan of buttermilk and pressed pecan pieces and whole grain cracker crumbs all over them.I set the oven to 375 degrees.  I put a little vegetable oil into a shallow baking dish and nestled the pork chops inside.  I inserted a probe thermometer into the thickest part of the thickest chop.

Common wisdom used to be to cook the pork chops until there was no moisture left in the meat.

But there are a few problems with that tactic.  Pork is very much leaner than it used to be, so the meat comes out dry.  And cooking them to a temperature of 160 or so makes the meat come out very dry.  So the end result is pork that is very dry.Did I mention it would be dry?

Even the USDA, historically a very conservative and safety conscious bunch, now recommends that pork only needs to be cooked to 145 degrees.  I cook our pork chops to 140, which gives us a very light pink center.  Even if pink is not a color you want in your chop, 145 will be cooked through, but still juicy, and a radical sea change from the chalk-like 160 or higher.

So that was Petey’s treat.  What was mine?Tater salad.

I don’t remember exactly I lost my heart and mind to potato salad, but I do know that unbelievably when I was little I didn’t like it.  If you’ve read more than one or two of these essays, you know that my two favorite foods on the planet are potato salad and birthday cake.  And even I know that woman cannot live on birthday cake alone—although I’d be happy to volunteer for a study to find out exactly how much birthday cake one can live on.  So if you know somebody in research…Anyway.

My treat tonight was the potato salad portion of the program.  And I was trying out a new recipe.

That’s the great thing, but also most problematic part of potato salad.  When I googled recipes, I got 6.33 million results.  Putting “classic” in front only lowers that number to 1.78 million.  There is no one right recipe.  It varies according to culture, geographical region, ingredient availability, and even mood.

What.The.Literal.Hell?

What this means is that there are numerous amazing, delicious versions of the dish.  And there are just as many recipes for dreck.  Mustard, celery, relish?  Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.

But, you might think that broccoli or olive oil are abominations.  Everyone has a place at the potato salad table.  So pull up a seat, and grab a fork.

Thanks for your time.

Parma potato salad

parma potato salad3 pounds red skin or yellow potatoes

½ red onion, diced

½ cup pancetta, cut into strips, cooked until crispy, and set aside

3 tablespoons pancetta fat, divided (if you don’t have enough, add olive oil)

½ cup grated Parmesan cheese

¼ cup freshly squeezed lemon juice

Zest of 1 lemon

1 teaspoon dried thyme

1 cup mayonnaise

Salt & pepper

In a large heavy pot with heavily salted water, boil unpeeled potatoes until a knife easily pierces it.  Drain, and let cool.  When fully cool, peel and cut into bite-size chunks.

Place into a large bowl along with onion, and drizzle 2 tablespoons of fat over veg, along with salt and pepper to taste.  Gently stir to coat.  Cover, and let sit at room temperature for thirty minutes.

Make dressing.  In a small bowl whisk together the last tablespoon of fat, Parmesan, lemon juice, zest, thyme, and mayo.  Season, taste, and reseason if necessary.  Cover and refrigerate thirty minutes.

Thirty minutes before service mix dressing into potatoes starting with about ¾ of it, adding more if needed. 

Sprinkle pancetta on top of each serving.  Serves 4-6.

I’ve never said this before, but I can’t even.

   

Just like Abuela made

For twenty years or so, I’ve been telling The Kid about Puerto Rico.  As a child, I lived there for a few years, and it was kind of totally awesome.

The base we lived on was tiny.  I knew every family in every house.

But the flip side of all this familiarity was that everybody knew me right back.  It was impossible to misbehave in public.  If I did something dumb or dangerous, reports got back to my house before I did.

Beaches were everywhere.  Survival beach was closest; just a short but risky hike down the side of a moss-covered cliff.  Kids were forbidden from going on their own, but I probably don’t have to tell you that it was one of those dumb and dangerous things I regularly did.We had our own horses, explored ruins, swam with exotic fish and climbed countless trees.

But one of the very best things about Puerto Rico was the food.

Just like our own revered pit masters here in North Carolina, there are certain people on the island that have a mystical connection to pork.  A whole pig is either split in half and cooked over hot coals or cooked in a box, called a Caja China.  It’s a pig pickin’ set to salsa music.On holidays many families have pernil, a slow roasted pork shoulder.  The outside gets brown and crispy, and the meat is moist and falling-apart tender.

Plantains, or platanos, are large starchy bananas.  They look like bananas on steroids.  Ripe, they’re sweet.  They’re usually pan fried until caramelized

While green, they act as potatoes in the Puerto Rican diet.  Fried, they’re heavenly crispy disks called tostones.  When mashed they become an insanely delicious food known as mofongo.  It’s made in a mortar and pestle called pilón and maceta.

And then, there’s yuca, also known as cassava.  It has to be cooked, because eaten raw, your body converts it to cyanide.  Even cooked, some folks can’t tolerate it, and results in not death, but a pretty nasty upset stomach.

Which brings me to a delicious meal The Kid and I shared yesterday. The Kid told me months ago about a restaurant called Tropical Pickin Chicken.  They have locations in Wake Forest and on Capital Blvd, in Raleigh.  They have different types of Caribbean fare, with many dishes from Puerto Rico.

It’s a little hole in the wall set in a sleepy strip mall.  But the cozy atmosphere and authentic, delicious food made me feel like I was sitting in an abuela’s (grandmother) kitchen being stuffed full of her amazing cooking.Brittany, the owner’s daughter was our adorable culinary guide.  We had mofongo, covered with succulent pernil, topped with onions (which The Kid, an avowed onion-phobe devoured). It was served traditional style, in a large pilon.  A small order of their delicious yellow rice and red beans was more than enough for the both of us.

And we had fried yucca.

Brittany told us how they prepare it.

Fried Yuca

yuca

2 or 3 yuca roots

1 cup vegetable oil + more for frying

Head of garlic, chopped and mashed into paste

Salt and pepper

Make garlic oil.  Mix mashed garlic, salt and pepper into cup of oil. Cover and refrigerate at least 24 hours.

Place large heavy pot on medium-high.  Fill with 2-3 inches of oil and bring to 350 degrees.

Peel yuca and cook in salted boiling water until tender.  Cut into approximate size and shape of steak fries.  Cook in oil until golden-brown.  Remove and place in large, shallow bowl.  Drizzle 1 ½ tablespoons of garlic oil on top, and toss until yuca is well-coated.Serve hot.

If you’d like to see everything they have to offer, the menu is on the Grubhub website.  Which means they deliver.  But I’m pretty sure no matter how hard I beg, nobody’s making a 30 mile trek to bring food to me in Durham.

So, until they change their minds or open a spot closer to home, I’ll be burning up the highway for more of that home cooking just like my abuela would have made for me if I’d actually had a Puerto Rican abuela.

Thanks for your time.

Sliding Into Home

Pretty much everything is adorable when it is smaller.  Think about it.

adorable

Babies, ponies, Simone Biles, and Laurie Hernandez: you just want to stick ‘em in your pocket and take them home.  Show The Kid a puppy, and you’ll see my grown, responsible adult child babble like a drunken toddler and swoon like a professional Southern Belle.

Food is the same way.  Those little tiny ears of corn, could they be more precious?  On pancake night, my mom used to always make me a small stack of the baby version—and they always tasted better.

Sliders; the miniature version of burgers are everywhere, from burger joints to fine dining.  The burgers were popularized by the White Castle restaurant chain.  The name came from the Navy, where the burgers were small, greasy, and slid down easy.

Last week I was wandering the interwebs and saw a great variation on hamburger sliders.  Pork, sliced from a cooked tenderloin.  What a great idea; with an approximately 2 ½-inch diameter they are the absolute perfect size for sliders.

I didn’t even stick around long enough to look at the recipe or see how they dressed the sliders.  I had opened up my computer notepad, and was coming up with sandwich variations.  I ended up with eleven different sandwiches.

But first, let’s cook our tenderloin.

Oven-roasted pork tenderloin

tenderloin

1 pork tenderloin, approx. 1 pound

Kosher salt and freshly cracked pepper

1 tablespoon vegetable oil

Preheat oven to 425.  Get a cast iron skillet almost smoking hot.  While it’s heating, brush the oil all over the tenderloin.  Liberally season the pork.

Insert a probe thermometer set to 145 for medium-rare up to 160 for medium.  Place meat in skillet and sear, turning with tongs to brown the entire surface.

When the outside is caramelized, place the skillet with the pork into the oven, and cook until desired temp is reached.  Remove, and let rest, lightly covered for 5-10 minutes.

With a very sharp knife slice into about 10-12 thin-ish slices (you’ll use two slices for each sandwich) Makes 5-6 sliders.

Variations on a Porky Theme:

*Unless another type of bread is noted use any kind of slider bun.

Autumn in Paris-Cut pieces of French bread cut to about 3 inches.  Cut in half horizontally and give the bottom schmear of Dijonaise (50/50 ratio of mayo/Dijon), layer pork, thinly sliced apple slices, and Brie.

The Buckeroo-Place sharp cheddar on top of 2 slices tenderloin.  Melt under broiler.  Spread thin layer of mayo on the bottom and a mild barbecue sauce on cut side of the top of a Hawaiian roll.  Add crispy bacon and tomato.

The Croque-Mix strawberry jam with a little Balsamic vinegar.  Spread on the bottom bun.  Lay on meat, then arugula and shaved red onion.

The Petey (it’s how he likes his ham sandwiches)-Spread mayonnaise on bottom bun.  Layer pork, white American cheese, and kettle potato chips.

Hey Mack-Diced onion, dill pickle slices, American cheese, and 1000 Island dressing.

The Kid-Mix lemon juice into Duke’s mayo to taste.  Spread on bottom bun, then layer pork, crispy pancetta, kale shoots, and shavings of Parmigiano-Reggiano.

The What?-Spread Miracle Whip on bun.  Add pork, fried green tomato, and pea shoots.

The Bayless-Green salsa on bottom bun.  Melt Queso fresco or Oaxaca on the pork, then add thinly sliced avocado.

Unfortunately, I didn’t have space for all of my ideas.  You are welcome to email me and I’ll send you the rest, or…have some fun with the family coming up with some ideas of your own.

Thanks for your time.

Rice, Rice Baby

Open any home magazine and you’ll find numerous bakes in which meat is nestled on top of raw rice mixed with canned soup, water, and maybe a few veggies.  After 45 minutes or so in the oven and you’ve got dinner.There’s just one problem.  Inside that can of soup is five thousand ingredients, each of which has at least twelve unpronounceable syllables.  And oy, the sodium–it’s really problematic for people who have heath issues like high blood pressure.  But even if you’re otherwise fit, with enough sodium you could wake up so bloated you’re mistaken for a parade float.

Just take two of the most popularly used flavors.  One serving of cream of tomato has 20% of your recommended daily sodium, and cream of mushroom contains 36%.  And that’s based on a 2000 calorie diet.  The only days I consume 2000 calories is when there is potato salad or birthday cake in the house.

But I really like the idea of the bake.

The other day I was making smothered pork country ribs and was looking in the cabinet trying to decide what starch to make with it.  And way in the back I found a bag of black rice.  It wasn’t black because I’d forgotten about it since the Carter administration; it came that way.

Black rice, or forbidden rice, comes in almost as many varieties as white.  It’s crazy healthy with more antioxidants than blueberries, and tons of fiber, iron, and vitamin E.  The Chinese believe it’s very good for the kidneys, stomach, and liver.  Like brown rice, it’s nutty and a little chewy.  Unlike brown rice, Petey happily eats it.

I was planning on searing the ribs on the stove and then braising them in some gravy from another pork dinner a couple months ago when I’d made way too much and froze the leftovers.  I wasn’t sure there would be enough gravy for the meat and to pour over the cooked rice.  I could add more stock and roux (cooked flour and butter used as a sauce thickener), but I decided to go a different route.

I would cook the pork in a slow oven (300 degrees) until it was almost done, then take it out of the oven, remove the pork, stir in the black rice, replace the meat, and put it back in to cook.

But there would be some straight up estimating going on.  I wasn’t sure how much liquid would be in the pot when I added the rice, and I would be winging it on the timing, as well.

steampunk scienceThe first thing I did was to tell Petey that tonight’s dinner would be a total experiment, and if things went south we might be dining on peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.

The next thing I did was some research, because the rice was in a Ziploc bag and had no instructions.  I needed to know the rice/liquid ratio, and the cooking time.  This is what I discovered for a few of the more commonly used types.  These numbers are for baking covered in the oven at 350 degrees.  Stovetop cooking will be different.

Rice Variety Baking Chart

rice types

Type                          Rice/Liquid Rato                    Cook Time

Long grain white  1 cup rice/2 cups liquid            20-24 

Brown                       1 cup rice/2 ¼ cups liquid     Approx 55

Black                         1 cup rice/2 ½ cups liquid      55-75 

Wild rice                   1 cup rice/3 ½ cups liquid      Approx 90 

Short grain              1 cup rice/2 ½ cups liquid      25-30 

I was estimating the amount of liquid in my pot.  After 55 minutes I checked and found the rice wasn’t quite cooked through, and there was too much liquid left.  I took off the lid and turned on the low broiler so the heat would come directly onto the food’s surface.  After twenty more minutes it was just right.  I took it out of the oven, recovered it, and let it sit for 15 minutes.

That night we dined well on pork, and perfectly cooked rice.  But now that I think about it all again, I kinda want that peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

Thanks for your time.

Definitely Dixie (kind of)

I’m broken, and it’s all because of my mom, The Kid, and Fresh Market.

I used to be like all the other proper Southern children and eat any pimento cheese that was offered.  And like any good Southern child, ate it on spongy white bread.

But then two things happened that changed everything, and broke me.

First, my mom came to visit from Greensboro one day.  I honestly don’t remember her ever having arrived empty-handed.  Well, on this fateful day, knowing that I love both pimento cheese and Fresh Market and she brought me a tub of the goo they make in-house at that culinary Aladdin’s cave.

Secondly, when The Kid was in middle school we made a trip to the supermarket.  In the chip aisle, my spawn asked for a specific bag of pretzels.  The ones requested were Utz Special Dark sourdough; another kid had brought them for lunch, and they were a big hit among the lunchroom set.

They were also a hit at Chez Matthews, I took to keeping them around for The Kid’s lunch and to munch on.

One day I had some fresh pimento cheese from Fresh Market in the fridge.  I also had a bag of dark pretzels on the counter.  I wandered into the kitchen looking for something on which to snack.  I pulled out the cheese, and opened the pretzels.  I dunked and tasted.

My whole world shifted.

When The Kid was little and faced with a new food, I used to say try it, because you never know, it might be your new favorite.

The pretzels and the pimento cheese were both tasty on their own.  But the sum of these savory parts made for a whole that was so intensely delicious I needed to sit down.  I may have passed out from the sheer sensory overload.

A couple years ago, I was making oven-baked pork chops.  I needed some breader.  And I just happened to have the better part of a bag of Utz’s on hand.

After grinding in the food processor, I coated the chops and threw them in the oven.  The special dark specialness did it again.  We loved them.

The other day I was making pork chops had an epiphany: I would make a stuffed hybrid.

Stuffed pretzel pork chops

pimento pork

4-1 ½ inch thick boneless pork loin chops

1 cup your favorite pimento cheese

5 cups Utz Special Dark sourdough pretzels, divided

2 cups heavily seasoned flour

2 cups buttermilk

2 tablespoons vegetable oil

Cooking spray

Prepare stuffing:  Run 5 or 6 pretzels through food processor until finely crushed.  Measure out 2 tablespoons and mix it with pimento cheese.  Set aside.

With a thin flexible knife cut a pocket into chops.  Cut a small slit (2 inches or less), horizontally in the side.  Push knife into pork, being careful not to cut all the way through.  Wiggle the knife back and forth opening up the pocket.

Put cheese mixture into a zip top bag and cut off one small corner.  Place bag into pork chop, and squeeze in about ¼ of cheese into each.  Place into fridge for at least an hour to chill.

Grind up the rest of the pretzels into large, coarse crumbs.  Place into shallow dish.  Put flour into another bag, and pour buttermilk into another shallow dish.

Coat pork with 3-part dredge; shake in flour, dip in buttermilk, and heavily coat with pretzels.  Put back in fridge for another hour to cool and set the cheese.

Preheat oven to 350.  Put oil into a heavy baking dish.  Set in pork chops and give them a spritz of cooking spray on top.

Bake for 15 minutes.  Using a fork and spatula, gently flip them over and bake 15 minutes more. 

Remove from oven and let rest for 5-10 minutes.  Serves 4.

And how did my mom, The Kid, and Fresh Market break me?

They all contributed to spoiling me for any other pimento cheese.  Nobody else’s tastes good anymore.  And when it’s topping a very specific dark brown, knotted piece of dough, I am reclining among the angels in snacking heaven.

Way to go, guys.

Sadly, there’s no kit to fix me…

Thanks for your time.

The big bad wolf called…he wants to come for dinner

Alright you guys, today I’m bringing you all along for culinary jalopy ride/scientific experiment.

Here at Chez Matthews, we love smothered pork chops.  But there’s a major fly in the ointment when using modern grocery store pork.

Today’s modern mass-produced pork has very little fat.  Many pork chops, either bone-in or boneless are from the very leanest part, the loin.  This makes for a tender and juicy chop when cooked just to 143 degrees.  But when cooked low and slow this quality translates to dry and stringy.

I’ve been thinking about doing a slow-cooked smothered pork dish that would only get better by a long sojourn in a low oven.

A North Carolina gold mine.

A pork butt (or shoulder), the cut used to make NC barbecue and carnitas, is full of fat and connective tissue that when cooked slowly becomes tender and unctuous.  But, they’re huge hunks of meat.

There is though, a compromise cut.

It’s something called boneless country ribs.  They aren’t actually ribs, but cut either from the blade end of the loin near the shoulder, or the shoulder itself.  The leaner loin-cut rib works here, but the best cut for this dish is the butt.

Happily, it’s also a buck or two cheaper than its leaner neighbor.

Slow-cooked smothered country ribs

Rub:

dry rub

1 tablespoon salt

1 teaspoon pepper

1/2 teaspoon porcini powder

1/2 teaspoon caraway powder

1 teaspoon za’atar

1 teaspoon sugar

1/2 teaspoon onion powder

1/2 teaspoon thyme

Pinch of fresh nutmeg

Mix together and rub all over 2 pounds boneless country pork ribs.  Cover, refrigerate, and let sit 24 hours.

Caramelized onion:

car onions

2 yellow onions, chopped

1 tablespoon oil

1 teaspoon dry thyme

1 teaspoon za’atar

I large bay leaf

Salt and pepper

Put oil in pot on medium low.  Add onions, thyme, za’atar, bay leaf, salt and pepper.

Cook on medium-low until golden amber in a large heavy pot with lid. Remove from pot.

Heat the same pot on medium-high.  Brown meat on all sides in 2 tablespoons vegetable oil.  Remove from pot and set aside.

Mushroom gravy:

shroom gravy

2 pounds mushrooms, cleaned and sliced

1 tablespoon chopped fresh rosemary

2 tablespoons chopped fresh thyme, divided

2 tablespoons sassafras jelly or 1 tablespoon apple jelly and ¼ cup root beer

1 tablespoon tomato paste

1 tablespoon Dijon mustard

2 tablespoons Worcestershire sauce

1 cup white wine

2 cups chicken stock

2 cups beef stock

1 cup skim milk

1/3 cup heavy cream

Salt and pepper

Roux:

roux ing

3/4 cup butter

3/4 cup flour

Melt butter in a small saucepan on medium-low.  Whisk in flour and cook until the color of peanut butter.  Set aside.

Directions:

Preheat oven to 250.  Heat pot on medium-high.  Add mushrooms, rosemary, and 1 tablespoon thyme to pot along with ½ teaspoon salt and ¼ teaspoon pepper.  Cook until liquid has released from the mushrooms and cooked off.  Add cooked onion.  When mushrooms begin to brown, add jelly and tomato paste.  Cook until jelly dissolves and tomato paste has begun to darken (about 3 minutes). 

Pour in wine and cook until pan is dry again.  Add stock, stir in mustard, Worcestershire, and dairy.  Heat until boiling.  Whisk in roux until gravy thickness.  Check for seasoning.  Add in meat and cover.  Place in oven and cook three hours.  When done, skim off any fat from the surface.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

Serve over rice.  Makes 5-6 servings.

Well, it turned out delicious.  The meat was literally falling-apart tender.  The connective tissue had completely broken down and gave it that rib-like mouth feel.

And Petey, who I sometimes think likes pork more than he likes me, loved it.  He claimed the leftover pork and rice for lunch tomorrow.  I also had two deli containers of gravy left.  One portion will be used for baked meatballs in a day or so.  The other’s in the freezer for a future project to be named later.

So, my experiment was successful.  But really, how bad can pork and gravy ever be?  It’s not like my kitchen fiddling was going to create a monstrous porcine/human hybrid.   But just think; if it did we could have had a huge pig pickin’ that could baste itself and make the sides.

Don’t worry, this is actually a still from a Doctor Who episode.

Thanks for your time.