Parmesan

They call me Tater Salad

/ momsequitur / Leave a comment

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.

   

A spare goose

/ momsequitur / Leave a comment

 

Hey!  I think that kid in the lower left is wearing pajamas.

Go to any schoolyard, and talk to the kids about food likes and dislikes.  You’ll find out that French fries and pizza are big hits.  But my guess is that among the Brussel sprouts, liver and avocado, asparagus will land unequivocally among the top-ten “Ewww, Gross, No way!” list.

I’ve always been a fan.  Even when I was a kid, and asparagus came from a can, I liked those enigmatic green spears.

I don’t think I ever ate or even saw it fresh until I was in my teens.  Then I thought myself quite the gourmand to purchase, prepare, and eat pipe-cleaner sized asparagus.

And I thought that grassy was just the flavor of fresh.

Au contraire, mon frère.

One day, many years ago, I purchased some fresh asparagus.  On the tag was the farm’s phone number for more information about the veg, and recipes.  So, I called it.

The produce gods must have been smiling down on me that day because the phone was answered by the farm’s owner.  And this guy took me to asparagus school

Not the actual asparagus farmer.From left: Dancing Bear, Bunny Rabbit, Captain Kangaroo, Mr. Moose, and Mr. Green Jeans-my template for a farmer.

We spoke for at least an hour.  But by the time I hung up, he made sure I had a thorough understanding of his product.

The first thing we talked about is the life cycle of the plant.  It’s a perennial, meaning instead of starting a new plant every year, it grows year after year.  Many people already know this, but it must grow for a few years before the spears can be eaten.  But a healthy plant might last up to thirty years, with many happy springtime harvests.

But those pencil-thin, so-called babies?

no pencils

That’s what you get with a weak plant, or one that’s lived a full life and now is played out.  It is not, let me repeat this; not desirable.  It will never get the satisfying snap of a correctly cooked spear, and quelle surprise; tastes grassy because there is a surfeit of chlorophyll.

And this, I think, is why kids and many adults dislike this potentially delicious vegetable.  They’ve never eaten a good spear, cooked well.

My farmer friend informed me that the best asparagus is bright, healthy green, as thick as your thumb, with closed, dry tips.  Those restaurants that serve and grocers that sell those infuriating twigs are pulling the compost over your eyes.   They’re not gourmet specimens, they’re lies.

Why don’t we see fatties in stores more often?

Because these are the vegetables that the farmers keep and eat themselves.  And when they feast, sometimes they cook them like this:

Roasted asparagus

Untitledroasted goose

2 pounds fat asparagus cleaned, with woody ends broken off

Juice of half lemon with zest set aside

1 tablespoon Dijon mustard

1 teaspoon honey

2 teaspoons mayonnaise

1/4 cup olive oil

2 tablespoons finely grated parmesan + more for sprinkling

Salt & pepper

Whisk together all the ingredients except asparagus and sprinkling cheese.  Pour the marinade over asparagus in shallow baking dish and let sit for one hour.

15 minutes before cooking, place a large baking sheet with cooling rack on it into oven and preheat to 450.  Place veg onto cooling rack in single layer.  Sprinkle with the rest of the Parmesan and bake for 15-20 minutes turning once, until lightly tender, but crisp.

Place cooked asparagus into serving vessel and sprinkle with pinch of large flaky salt and reserved lemon zest.  Serves 4-6.

Nope.

And oh yeah, about that goose in the title?   There’s no lurking fowl.  Here at Chez Matthews, it’s just what we call asparagus.

Thanks for your time.