Chile Verde

I guess this green chile was good, because after I ate a bowl of it last night I fell asleep on the floor next to the dog.

None of the recipes I looked at were quite the classic New Mexican green chile I was looking for, even from the usually reliable James Peyton. So here's what I did.

1 pound tomatillos
1 pound lean boneless pork, cut into 2" chunks
2 small or 1 big onion
2-5 cloves garlic
1 carrot
half a bell pepper...red here
roasted green chiles - about 8, or half a Food City bag
vermouth (or beer or white wine or something for deglazing)
water (or chicken or pork stock)
1 sprig fresh oregano
cilantro
salt

I simmered the tomatillos for about 10 minutes in a few inches of water, turning them over so they got soft all over. I whirred them in the food processor for a few seconds.

I browned the pork in a little olive oil and then removed it. Then I sauteed the onions, carrot, bell pepper and garlic, in that order. Deglazed the pan. Tossed everything but the cilantro together and let it simmer for about 3 hours until the fat had cooked out of the pork chunks. I put the cilantro in during the last 30 minutes.

The carrot and bell pepper were minimal, really just to round out the flavor a little -- it's mostly about the pork and the chile. And I expected it would need thyme or cumin or something, but it really didn't. Even with just water, not stock, it was super flavorful.

I just served this with tortillas, and it was plenty of food.

Guatemalan Longaniza

Hey, Mom, I finally re-created the sausage you and Dad and I had at that Guatemalan restaurant (aptly named "Guatemalan Restaurant") in Tucson.

The menu, you'll remember, said:

Longaniza: Guatemalan style sausage stuffed with ground pork,

onions, jalapeno peppers, mint and spices.

The sausage was grilled over hot coals, almost blackened in some places but never burnt. It was stuffed in hog casings that the chef split open prior to grilling. The pork was quite lean and finely ground for sausage. The mint and chiles were fresh and abundant. It was like nothing I'd had before.

So I looked for a recipe. And it turns out this post is destined to become the top search result for the phrase "Guatemalan longaniza," simply because I couldn't find any such thing anywhere on the internet or in any of my cookbooks. There's Spanish longaniza, which is smoked and mint-free. There's Mexican longaniza, which appears to be like Mexican chorizo except in casings (look, a video from Arizona on Mexican sausagemaking in which the narrator has a Castilian accent. Seriously, listen to the Spanish version. Where did they find that guy?)

And there's Filipino longaniza, which is garlicky, spicy, sometimes sweet, and occasionally contains mint.

But no Guatemalan longaniza. I wonder if the chef, the older woman at that restaurant, has connections or family in the Philippines? Maybe there's a Filipino community in Guatemala? You'll have to do further investigative work for me, I'm afraid.

Anyway, I bought a Boston butt on sale at Publix and cut the meat off the bone. I used about three pounds of meat and froze the rest. I decided not to add any fat as I usually would for sausage: the butt was quite fatty already, and I wanted to keep it lean like what we had.

So I mixed the following together and sent it through my grinder fitted with the finer of the two blades:

• 3 pounds fatty pork, cut into strips
• a white onion, diced and sauteed in olive oil
• a clove of garlic, minced and added to saute pan at end
  
• a handful of fresh mint
• a jalapeno from the grocery store
• a few tabascos from last year's garden, frozen, since grocery store jalapenos are so lame
• red pepper flakes to round up the chile flavor
  
• kosher salt
• black pepper (lots)
  
• fresh thyme (not much)
  
• 1/3 cup light rum

I also separately chiffonaded another handful of mint and mixed it in after the grinding, since the grind was so fine and I wanted some visible mint leaves.

But it wasn't quite right. I put the mixture in the fridge and thought about it for a whole day...and finally realized the secret ingredient had to be a good dose of sugar. That would account for the scorched look of the restaurant sausages where the filling had burbled out of the slits. And it worked: it pulled the mint and spices together in a very Vietnamese way.

So I added:

• several tablespoonfuls of sugar

In fact, Lawson's first comment on the sausages (which he liked) was that they reminded him of the Chinese sweet sausages he used to eat in NYC and at The Orient, the Chinese restaurant in Columbia where he learned much of what he knows about Chinese cooking.

Next time I think I will add lime or orange zest or juice, just a touch. I may also play with some other spices besides thyme and pepper.

I stuffed these into medium hog casings, tied them into 5" links, and hung them in the fridge for two days. I used the gas grill to cook them the first batch, but I will grill them over wood next time. I have been enjoying my homemade sausages grilled over wood so, so, so much more than over gas. The wood seems to fill in the flavor gaps and mellow any dominant flavors -- like, my bratwurst over gas taste too strongly of nutmeg, but over wood they have the right musky, earthy-homemade nutmeg solidity but don't necessarily taste like snickerdoodles.

The longaniza was good. I'll make it again -- it's a very summery sausage.

I have sausages and pork on the brain after interviewing local food activist, politician, and fancypants pig farmer Emile DeFelice a few days ago for an upcoming Free Times story. We foraged for mushrooms (well, as much as my inappropriate footwear would allow). Fangirl and journalist struggled mightily within me. Fortunately, the best defense against asking questions like "How'd you get so awesome?" is to ask as few questions as possible and just let a guy talk. (Actually, that's pretty much my one and only interview tactic: Shut the hell up.) Look for the article on Wednesday.

No good sausage or Emile pictures, sorry. My camera woes continue.

Christmas Tamales

This year I used my regular pork filling recipe, though I see now I forgot to use onion. It's missing that flavor base, for sure.

For the dough, this year I rendered my own lard instead of buying the sketchy shelf-stable hydrogenated stuff. I just put some chopped up fatback in the crockpot for a day on low; that worked pretty well. The lard was a little softer and meltier than other lard I've encountered, but mild and delicious.

With the tamales we had homemade beans and a sort of ad hoc cole slaw made from brussels sprouts, lime juice, yogurt, olive oil, salt, pepper, and toasted cumin seeds. I made a batch of classic red chile sauce to spoon over the tamales.

Back to the Stove

I cooked last night, Manhattan in hand, and felt immeasurably better.

I made a vaguely Thai stir fry of pork, tofu, onion, garlic, purple cabbage from the garden, red bell pepper, green beans, cilantro, and rice noodles. I marinated the pork first in sugar and fish sauce. For sauce I used a blend of fish sauce, chile-garlic paste, and water. Not bad. The whole thing was slightly greasy, but at least it was homemade and home-chopped and very therapeutic to make.

I don't know how it got to be late December. Fortunately, I get to spend the next week cooking. Should be fun. A buche de Noël, lemon meringue pie, tamales, huevos rancheros, Anasazi beans...I'll keep you posted.

Spaghetti alla Carbonara

I got a pretty kitchen scale for my birthday.

I have of course read a lot about spaghetti alla carbonara, but I'd never tried it. Never knew quite what to think. But Emile was selling pancetta at the farmers market the other week, so we bought some and made spaghetti with pancetta and eggs and cheese.

I have to say, it wasn't my thing. Even with tons of parsley, which Lawson said correctly was key to the dish, it lacked any redeeming green-ness. It was too intense. Lawson, who has made it many times before, didn't like the pancetta as much as the plain old bacon he's used before.

I have used the pancetta since in other ways, and it's glorious. I cooked it with some collards last week. But maybe not so much with the eggs and parmesan and pasta.

Pork Tenderloin with Sage and Mustard

I heard Michael Pollan on NPR today talking about his open letter to the next president. He eloquently summarized his ideas, notably that the unhealthiest foods (hydrogenated fats, high-fructose corn syrup) are the cheapest because they are subsidized by the government, and that we should be subsidizing broccoli instead! So we are going to have broccoli and tofu tonight.

Last night, however, we had a teeny pork tenderloin pan-fried with garlic, sage, and rosemary, and finished with a sauce of pan juices, Dijon mustard, and vermouth. With it we had baked butternut squash and Jack Bishop green beans, a preparation I can't seem to get enough of.

Carnitas for the Dog

I cleaned out the freezer a few days ago, and in it I found a pork tenderloin. Thinking it was the pork tenderloin I'd placed in there about six months ago, I moved it to the fridge and commenced thinking about recipes.

The next morning I check the defrosting tenderloin and noticed the label:

"Use before February 8, 2002," it said.

Eeeeeew. I placed the loin immediately in the trash can.

But then Lawson reminded me that the dog can eat all manner of sketchy things with delight. So I pulled it out again and set about cooking the dog some 6.5-year-old pork.

I opened the package and drained the meat and cut away the only nasty-looking freeze-damaged area I could see. I decided roasting the pork would be good: get some hot air circulating around it to pull away any funky freezer odors. And I decided some fat and salt would help matters enormously. So I rubbed the tenderloin in a good amount of bacon grease and roasted it in a 450-degree oven for about half an hour.

The final product was super-tender and moist and smelled good. I'm guessing the long freezing damaged the meat fibers, making them break down and tenderize. Lawson tasted the pork and thought it was delicious.

I cut it into chunks. It looks exactly like carnitas. I have been feeding it to Patty over several days, mixed at various times with canned dog food, plain yogurt, or chicken broth.

Thai Pork and Tofu Stir Fry

My stir frying is getting better, bit by bit. Again I used the largest skillet we have instead of the wok because of our stupid smooth-topped stove. The skillet allows for much more surface contact with the stove. However, the skillet is well-seasoned, but not as perfectly as the wok, so unfortunately I think I use more oil with it than I would with a wok. The larger base makes for more oil, too. But it's still a better option for getting a hot, hot pan and maneuvering it on and off the heat.

This was not a super-official recipe, just a combination of a Mai Pham recipe and things from a few other Thai cookbooks.

I marinated some pork chunks in lime juice, fish sauce, and lime zest. I used rib meat but removed most of the fat.

I sliced the tofu, sprayed it with olive oil cooking spray, and baked the pieces at 400 for about 15 minutes, then sprinkled it with a little shoyu. I could have stir-fried it, too, but I wanted that toasty dryness it gets from being baked -- I thought that would soak up the stir-fry flavors better.

I heated peanut oil until it smoked and stir-fried the pork, then removed it.

I then stir-fried a Vidalia onion cut into rings, several Thai and one Japanese eggplant from the garden, assorted fresh red garden chiles of varying degrees of heat, one clove of garlic, and about 1/2 cup of Thai basil. (I prepped all this beforehand, of course.)

I added half a standard package of rice noodles, which had been soaking in hot water for half an hour before I drained them and gave them a minute or two to dry. Those noodles really, really wanted to stick to the skillet, but I added a little more oil and stirred well. Not letting up here was important: those noodles have to be chewy, chewy, chewy or there's no point in stir-frying rice noodles.

Toward the end I added the pork and tofu, poured in a sauce made of fish sauce, shoyu, and sugar, and tossed in another 1/2 cup of Thai basil. Because it wasn't picante enough, I added some dried red pepper flakes, too.

It was delicious, but it can be much better. I'll keep working.

Spicy Pork Tacos!

Spicy pork tacos! I don't know why that requires an exclamation point, but it does.

Lawson smoked a pork butt last week. We ate the meat with his homemade barbecue sauce for the first few days, but then I decided to try something else. I added chopped roasted green chiles, a fresh green chile, some diced tomato, lime juice, and salt to the leftover smoked pork, and I served it with corn tortillas. On the side we had roasted cauliflower. It was pretty delicious -- the smoked pork stood up really well to the roasted green chile flavor. I will try it again next time we have smoked pork around.

Note to readers: Kris/Mom is going to be on the road for the next 40 or so days, so it'll just be me posting...and she'll have a lot to catch up on when she returns.

More Whining About the Sad State of Food in America

I went to a conference of piano teachers over the last three days. We opened with a three-hour meeting of the board, with a break for "dinner" (menu: sub sandwiches, an assortment of chips, soda pop.) I wasn't too worried because there was to be a reception for the guest artists and presenters after the meeting. Oops--menu: doughnuts, brownies, soda pop.

A friend and I went out for food supplements afterwards--beer and salad.

Fortunately, I am very paranoid about getting caught with nothing healthy to eat, so I had brought with me yogurt, raspberries and other fruit, Wasa, Jarlsberg cheese, and two bottles of wine. I resorted to these many times over the three days, and gladdened the heart of several fellow attendees with a glass of wine.

I ate dinner once at the hotel restaurant, which had a reasonably priced Chipotle Chicken plate. It had a large serving of fresh vegetables and a side of roasted red potatoes, the chicken was a bland breast fillet with a little sauce but it was cooked well--i.e., not dried out. That was the purchased meal highlight of the trip. Hooray to them for the fresh veggies!

I visited two chain restaurants because I didn't wish to be a problem to my companions. The first was Rock Bottom, a brew pub. I can't complain because I ordered a small Caesar salad and a pale ale, and both were pretty much as advertised (they didn't brag). We ate outside, always a plus in the southwest. The second was My Big Fat Greek Restaurant, where I ordered a Greek salad. Raymond had a pomegranate mojito. The place was generic in every way including the food, except for the very loud music--the same at all their locations, I understand. I wouldn't go again, although I didn't suffer any actual digestive or hearing damage.

How did I get to be such a snob? I promise to be more positive.

At home tonight I made pork chops, brown rice, and zucchini, followed by fresh pineapple. This is a quick and easy recipe:

Pork Chops with Green Chile Sauce

4 pork chops

Flour, salt, pepper
Olive oil

Dredge the pork chops in flour, salt, and pepper. Brown thoroughly on both sides. Add to the skillet:

3 or 4 chopped tomatoes (I used partly tomatillos)

1/2 sliced onion

3 cloves garlic, sliced

2 to 4 chopped green chiles

1 teaspoon oregano

More salt and pepper to taste

Stir and cook until things begin to wilt, then cover the pan and simmer until pork is tender, 30 minutes or more.

Green Chile with Pork

I'd never made green chile in the crockpot before, but it worked really well. I bought assorted pork cuts: some lean boneless loin, which I cut into cubes, and the leanest, meatiest country ribs I could find. Piggly Wiggly always has different cuts of pork on sale, so I might buy something different on another day -- I just made sure I got some bones and some lean stew meat, about three pounds in all.

I browned the meat in olive oil, then removed it to the crockpot, then sauteed two onions in the same fat and spread those on top of the pork. I added:

- one bag roasted green chiles from Food City in Tucson, Arizona, peels and seeds removed. (Mom, how big are those bags? Two pounds?)
- two diced carrots
- two cloves garlic
- two bay leaves
- fresh oregano
- salt
- water not quite to cover

I cooked it in the crockpot for about 15 hours, but less would have been fine -- just long enough so the pork fat renders out and the broth gets good and brown. I removed the rib bones and served it with homemade tortillas.

Fancy Quesadillas

A few weeks ago I made quesadillas filled with some odds and ends we needed to use up -- cilantro, arugula, roasted pork, monterey jack cheese, queso anejo, and whole wheat tortillas -- and was pleased to find that they tasted wonderful, much more than the sum of their parts. Arugula and cilantro together produce a whole new flavor. Since then we have also made them with thinly sliced lean beef, marinated in lime juice, oregano, and garlic and then sauteed. I think the pork was better, though -- more subtle.

We eat them with this habanero-carrot sauce Lawson makes (yeah, I know, it looks like nacho cheese). The carrots allow the sauce to have big habanero flavor without being inedibly spicy. It's a Belizean recipe. I have been known to eat it straight from the jar with a spoon.

Pork Filling for Tamales

I've used this filling for the last two years for holiday tamales. It's an amalgamation of various tomatillo salsa recipes and some pork recipes from Aida Gabilondo and James Peyton. It's very satisfying. It would work anywhere, really -- enchiladas, quesadillas, grilled sandwiches...on a spoon straight out of the bowl...

I suppose one could make a small batch, but I think it's hardly worth it.

First, you need a big chunk of pork. I used a 3.5-pound bone-in rib-end loin roast. Brown it all over, then cover it with water and poach it in a Dutch oven until the meat is soft and shreddable. Add a few cloves of garlic and a few bay leaves to the water. I wouldn't use boneless pork -- without bones, the meat would end up too watery and bland.

Anyway, cool the pork, debone it, and shred the meat.

Chop a small onion finely and saute it over medium-low heat just until translucent. Mix with the pork.

Cover 1 pound of tomatillos with water in a small pot and bring to a gentle boil. Simmer for 10 minutes. Transfer tomatillos to food processor with tongs and process very briefly. Add to pork mixture. If you can't find tomatillos or are in a hurry, you could use Herdez salsa verde, but fresh tomatillos are so pretty.
Add and mix thoroughly:

- 3/4 cup or more roasted green chiles, diced. I used some from the garden that I roasted and froze a few months ago, but you could use 2 to 3 cans of whole green chiles and dice them yourself. (Pre-diced canned green chiles are icky, somehow -- I have to buy the whole ones and cut them up myself.)
- One small bunch of cilantro, chopped
- Salt to taste
- Fresh lime juice to taste

That's it! I made a big batch yesterday and will probably assemble the tamales tomorrow. More on that when the time comes.

Pork Tenderloin Sandwich

I haven't formed a complete opinion about pork tenderloin. I like the lean, boneless idea of it, and whenever I find some on sale that isn't pre-marinated in some horrifying blend of corn syrup, preservatives, artificial flavorings, and food coloring, I buy it. And it's often pretty good. But it's not amazing. I eat it cold on sandwiches, but Lawson seldom comes back for more. It's just a little too bland, even with a flavorful marinade and sauce.

I thought this batch was pretty good. I marinated it in fresh orange juice, oregano, salt, and garlic, then drained it and rubbed it with chile powder, and then roasted it at 450 for about 30 minutes. It was barely pink in the middle.

Here it is a few days later on homemade sandwich bread with horseradish, mustard, mayonnaise, and a ton of lettuce.

Posole

As far as I can tell, the only essential ingredient in the wonderful Mexican stew posole (also spelled pozole) is hominy. After that it varies wildly. It is so flexible, nutritious, comforting, and delicious. It's also a great food for entertaining because you can make up a whole tray of pretty garnishes for guests to add according to their tastes. Some typical garnishes are crumbled Mexican or grated Monterey Jack cheese; sliced radishes or green onions; cilantro; pickled jalapeno slices; olives; lime slices; and cubes of avocado.

Pictured above are some freshly roasted Anaheim chiles. Dad peeled them.

Here is a traditional pork version of posole, as well as a vegetarian one.

Pork Posole

Olive oil
1 or 2 pounds boneless pork, cubed
2 onions, sliced
4 or more cloves of garlic

Heat the oil in a large pan and brown first the pork, then the onions and garlic. (Most Mexican recipes do not brown the pork--it is just boiled. But I prefer the added flavor that comes from browning. You can skip it if you want.) Cover the meat with water and simmer, covered, until very tender. I often do this step in the crockpot.

Add:
1 large can tomatoes, or 1 pound fresh tomatillos
2 large cans hominy, yellow or white, drained
Salt
1-2 teaspoons oregano
Fresh or canned green chiles to taste

Last night I used 8 large, fresh Anaheims, and it was pretty spicy.

Simmer everything together for about an hour. Serve in bowls with optional garnishes.


Vegetarian Posole with Roasted Vegetables

3 to 6 dried red chiles (or 1/4 cup or more pure chile powder)
2 cloves garlic

Soak chiles in 1 quart hot water for ½ hour, then drain, reserving soaking water. Puree chiles with garlic and ½ cup of the reserved water.

1 large onion
2 tablespoons olive oil

Saute onion in oil until very golden. Add chile puree and cook, stirring, for 5 minutes.

1 or 2 large cans hominy, drained
Vegetable broth (you can make this more or less soupy to taste)
1 can tomatoes
2 teaspoons oregano
Salt and pepper to taste

Add these ingredients to puree and simmer about ½ hour.

1 large onion
1 green pepper
2 large carrots
1 tablespoon olive oil

Meanwhile, chop these vegetables, toss with olive oil, and roast at 450 degrees until charred and tasty, about ½ hour. Add them to the posole and simmer until everything is cooked and flavorful. Serve in bowls with optional garnishes.

Caprese Corn Salad and More

Katherine made us a version of Caprese salad with the addition of grilled corn cut off the cob.

She served it with this fabulous platter of pork tenderloin wrapped with bacon and grilled by Greg; a bed of fried noodles; and chimichurri sauce.

Pork Feast

My brother, his girlfriend, and my parents are all visiting us here in Columbia. For the first big meal, Lawson smoked a pork butt and some pork ribs. He went to work; I took the day off, and we all monitored the smoker all day. With the pork we served sliced garden tomatoes, steamed okra, white corn grits, and Lawson's homemade mustard-based barbecue sauce.

We ate outside. It was hot, and we were supplied with the other usual South Carolina outdoor hazards: here is Russell picking a fruit fly out of his wine.

Crowder Peas and A Poorly Composed Meal

We bought crowder peas at the farmer's market. I'd never even heard of them, as interested as I am in Southern vegetables, but Lawson told me his grandma used to grow them. They looked strange and beautiful:

They took me over an hour and a half to shell. And as there will be no more new Harry Potter books to read while I'm shelling crowder peas, I may never shell another crowder pea again. As you would expect, the drier purple pods had harder bean-like peas that fell right out, but the greener pods were spongy and delicate and so, so hard to pull apart to get at the pea inside. It was super-tedious.

Just last weekend I bought this book. I had high hopes: I've been reading reviews of it, and a quick glance showed me recipes for fig preserves and other such Southern foods. But the recipes aren't really Southern in cooking method -- they're more like things I would make out of Southern ingredients if I was feeling really fussy. I really want a solid Carolinian cookbook with Southern cooking methods. Sometimes I'm not a big fan of those methods, but I know there are traditional subtleties beyond just adding a ham hock to everything, as so many cooks do, and I want to know what they are.

Anyway, I used the Lee Brothers' crowder pea recipe, which involves a short boiling and a very basic vinagrette. This disappointed Lawson, who thought I should have tried the real Southern way after spending all that time shelling peas. The real way, you'll be unsurprised to learn, involves a ham hock.

The crowder peas in vinaigrette formed the base of this ill-composed meal :

Everything tasted fine, but nothing fitted; there were too many foods on the plate, cooked too much the same way. The pork chops were marinated in rosemary, sage, vermouth, wine vinegar, and olive oil and then grilled -- my favorite method and one of the first recipes I invented (though in this case the grill died and I finished them in a pan). But then the okra was broiled, as were the figs. The jalapenos were broiled, too, and it did nothing but make them unbearably spicy. Too many foods, too much heat, too many grill marks, too many hot juices running out of things. There were no contrasts. Sometimes meals that fall together out of Lawson's and my brains work out just fine, and sometimes they do not.

My mom is on a trip, in case you're wondering why she's not posting. She, my dad, my brother, and my brother's girlfriend will be here in South Carolina in a few days. There may be a lull in posting, but maybe we'll all throw together a post or two. Because my parents are traveling in a car, without their camper, they will be desperate for homemade food by the time they reach us.

Vegetarian Reaction

We had a four-pound pork stew last night in honor of the visiting aunts and uncles. That menu was: Italian Pork Stew; Grandma's scalloped potatoes with tomatoes and onions; Grandma's salad with apples, glazed pecans, and Gorgonzola; freshly baked whole wheat bread; and Kathy brought a rum cake.

The general porkiness of that sort of meal, however delicious, turns me into a vegetarian for several days afterwards. So tonight we had vaguely Persian things, including potato and egg kuku, Dad's collards with olives and lemon, bulgur and walnut pilaf, and tomato/herb relish. Very restorative.

Roman Food

Last night I made:

- pork chops marinated in rosemary, vermouth, and vinegar and then grilled
- roasted beets with lemon juice and olive oil
- piadina stuffed with sauteed beet greens and garlic
- lemon pudding souffle

Piadina is a Roman flatbread made with a small bit of lard and cooked in a dry pan, like a flour tortilla. You can cook it flat and plain, or make crimped half moons around a bit of sauteed greens and cook it that way, empanada style. This is a Marcella Hazan recipe that I make regularly. I like that there's no cheese or sauce and it still tastes full and rich.

This was the first time I'd ever made beets. I didn't use a recipe other than reading about how to roast them. Lawson was dubious -- he hadn't had beets in years, and wasn't very excited, and I didn't know what to expect either, but they were wonderful. He had several servings, and we both peed pink all night.

Did you know that beets and chard are the same species? Beta vulgaris. It's just that chard is bred for better and more leaves, and beets are bred for tastier and bigger roots.

The lemon pudding souffle is actually called Lemon Pudding Cake in the 2000 Joy of Cooking. It's very odd and light and fluffy -- very delicious. Try it next time you need something new to do with all your lemons.

My giant months-long project at work got cancelled, so I have been enjoying a brief vacation. Tonight we're having hamburgers, because I recorded all day and am starved.