Deer Sausage and Mushroom Gravy

My friend Dave gave us some venison that his cousin shot and took to a processor. Item #1 was this entertainingly packaged sausage.

It looks like something you would buy from under the table at a flea market, but it is very tasty. It's seasoned like standard American breakfast sausage -- black pepper, sage, salt, red chile flakes -- and is well balanced in a way that highlights the dark, sweet deer flavor.

Item #2, unfortunately -- and Dave warned me about this -- is a packet of square patties with some kind of seasoning added such that they taste very much like fast food chicken sandwiches. They are quite alarming. The meat is too finely ground and the seasonings oddly chemical. They taste nothing like deer. They are nearly inedible.

I put some of the sausage to good use for a recent dinner. I made two sausage patties and browned them and set them aside -- they were probably medium rare at that point, but they cooked a little more in the sauce at the end.


I then used the same pan with a little extra olive oil to saute onions, garlic, shitake mushrooms, and cremini mushrooms. Then I added vermouth or maybe leftover Riesling and scraped up the pan goop left over from the sausage. There was a lot of it -- very effective. I added chicken broth, fresh sage, and thyme, and let the whole thing simmer a bit.

I thickened it slightly with cornstarch, which made for a nice glossy brown sauce.

At the end I added a bunch of parsley and reheated the sausage patties in the sauce. I served it over polenta/grits...I think I called it polenta that night.

Diagnosis: Purple Soup

The strange cooking slump continues. This has never happened to me before for more than a few days: it's like I've lost both confidence and sense. I've made some good food and some crummy food, but I haven't felt right about any of it. It's like being a pitcher or shooting free throws -- something is off, and I don't know what, but the fact that I know it's off reinforces the offness of it.

Too abstract? Here's an exhibit.

I made chicken tortilla soup a few nights ago. Homemade stock, nice roasted chicken, green chiles, tortillas fried in a mixture of peanut oil and schmaltz [I have a newfound academic interest in schmaltz thanks to Melanie] -- good stuff. I had some red cabbage in the fridge that I wanted to use up. "Cabbage would be good in tortilla soup," I thought to myself. But my cooking sense should have followed that up with "Green cabbage, maybe. Red cabbage would turn the soup purple."

But that second voice never spoke, and indeed, the soup was purple.

Tasty, but purple.

Now that I've identified the problem, I think the only way to solve it will be to ignore cooking for a short time -- to keep doing it, but to just stop thinking about it. Again, exactly like shooting free throws.

So last night we had grilled cheese sandwiches with pickles on the side. They were excellent. For lunch today I'm having black beans from a can mixed with cheddar and hot sauce and heated up in the microwave. It hardly counts as cooking. That's the idea.

Meanwhile, in the absence of cooking mojo, there has been more knitting. I made Lawson a kickass scarf. And here is part of a hat.

Calzone II

Here's another calzone, this one much more traditional. The filling was homemade Italian sausage, sauteed onions and garlic, ricotta, mozzarella, and parsley. I added some fresh thyme and dried oregano too, I think.

I have a sinus infection and am not doing much cooking, which is why I'm writing about food from a week or two back and don't remember exactly what I did. Makes for poor food blogging, I know. But the calzones are lovely, aren't they?

Sunday Night Supper

"Sunday night supper" connotes comfortable food that doesn't require too much work--or possibly a lighter meal because it follows a gargantuan lunch of roast beast.

Last night our supper menu was Curry-Crusted Scallops, Quinoa Tabulli, and little carrots and snow peas from the garden, followed by black raspberry/chocolate chunk ice cream.

I loved quinoa as a substitute for bulgur in my regular tabulli recipe. This was the first time I tried it. Dad grew the parsley, so this was a big success.

Here's a product endorsement especially relevant to our times: this ice cream, which is a Kroger store brand, cost $1.30 and was just as delicious as any $5 famous stuff.

Shepherd's Pie

I bought some nice grass-fed ground lamb on sale the other day. I looked at various spiced lamb meatball recipes and Moroccan lamby stews and such, but in the end I decide to make plain shepherd's pie, the sort of thing you might be served at a pub in England.

For the stew part, I browned the lamb and removed it, pouring off all but a few tablespoons of fat and adding a touch of olive oil for flavor. I browned onions and carrots next, then added some white wine and frozen peas and a mix of chicken broth and water and let the whole thing cook a bit. Oregano, maybe? Thyme? Cinnamon? Lot of black pepper, for sure. Definitely a huge handful of parsley at the end.

I made the mashed potatoes by boiling a few potatoes, semi-peeled, for a good 20 minutes or more until they were soft. I mashed them using a ricer with some butter and a good glug of half and half.

I put the stew in a pretty casserole dish, covered it with potatoes, and baked it for a while at 375 until the potatoes firmed up a little.

On the side we had a simple arugula salad with balsamic vinegar, olive oil, and a lot of shaved pecorino romano.

I thought the sheepy cheese would complement the sheepy pie, and it did.

I've had sheep on the brain lately because I learned to knit. Here's my second completed project: some fingerless gloves for cold nights at band practice. They're just little rectangles of Noro Kureyon yarn, sewn up above and below the thumb.

Pasta Puttanesca

I had a couple of episodes of stomach pain in the last week, which prompted me to look up my symptoms on the internet. All articles advised me to examine my intake of alcohol and caffeine--uh oh.

So I began to follow Dr. Andrew Weil's anti-inflammatory food pyramid, which advises among other things to drink only green tea for caffeine, and up to two glasses of red wine per day. And we are not cooking meat at home, only fish and vegetarian for a while. I hate to admit that I feel practically reborn. I'll try this for a while since it's easy and allows for almost all of the things I like (although I did not see margaritas on that list).

Last night we had collard greens from the garden, and Pasta Puttanesca. I hadn't made that for a while--so easy and full of flavor. This is revised from Joy of Cooking. I used brown rice pasta.

Pasta Puttanesca

2 tablespoons olive oil

2 cloves garlic, chopped

1 teaspoon dried red chile flakes

Saute the garlic and chile in the olive oil until lightly colored. Add:

1/2 to 1 cup chopped pitted olives (Kalamata or oil-cured)

6 anchovy fillets, rinsed and chopped

1/2 teaspoon dried oregano

Cook another minute. Then stir in:

1 one-pound can crushed tomatoes

Simmer for five minutes. Finish with:

3 tablespoons minced fresh parsley

2 tablespoons capers

Salt and pepper to taste

Toss with cooked pasta.

Bosnian Food in Tucson

I was away all day at rehearsals Saturday, so Dad--who understands that procuring the perfect take-out meal is an art--went to the new Bosnian restaurant nearby and brought home the most wonderful homemade meal. Our menu: Bosnian Salad Plate (like antipasto, but fresher) accompanied by homemade bread that was unsalted, a nice contrast; a vegetable stew with potato dumplings (not heavy, though--and the stew sauce was vaguely vinegary); a lamb stew with large limas (gigantes, they're called in some cuisines); and a dessert of dried fruit confection rolled into balls. A cabbage salad accompanied everything--it seemed to have been wilted or blanched and was so mild and tender.

We'll be going back there often.

Lemon Meringue Pie

Sorry about the hiatus here. Other things got in the way of cooking and picture-taking.

Here's a lemon meringue pie I made before the break. I always make one for Christmas, and we usually leave it with Lawson's brother, who is a big fan. This year we felt like we needed a little more lemon meringue pie in our lives, so I made one for us to brighten up the late February gloom.

I use the 1997 Joy of Cooking recipe exactly as written (so I won't reproduce it here), and it's perfect every time. My favorite thing about it is that the yolks go in the filling and the whites in the meringue, so I don't have to figure out what to do with leftover egg components.



The second photo is very instructive in terms of the contents of my kitchen. Clockwise from top left we have: a kitchen scale, some Abuelita brand Mexican hot chocolate, a jar of homemade Tabasco sauce, a roll of yellow duct tape, a homemade shelf built from plywood and glue with the aid of the 1970s book Furniture Without Tools, which houses my collection of David Wade cookbooks and leaflets (possibly the world's most extensive private collection of Wadiana -- much larger than that of the Library of Congress), a bread machine, a wire rack with a pie on it, the edge of the dog's wet food bowl, a tin of anchovies, the lid of a small, yard-sale-sourced Coleman cooler (generally used for transporting beer to private social events), 4 lemons picked off the Moore family Lisbon lemon tree in Tucson, a dish towel, a box with a Paypal address label, and an iron.

I did not put these things on my kitchen table. Things just end up there.

Calzone

I made a calzone using my regular pizza dough recipe. It's a fairly wet dough, which made it a little tough to work with. Lots of cornmeal on the peel made it all okay.

No ricotta in this one -- just what we had around, which was homemade Italian sausage, mozzarella, and sauce made with canned tomatoes.

Mom, I used to love those calzones you made with ham and cheese when we were kids. I think that was my birthday dinner for several years running, wasn't it?

Bouillabaisse

Norm and Jane from Washington came for dinner and to spend the night. Norm is a vintner and brought two delicious bottles of his wine, an unusual Petit Verdot and a Voignier. Here was our Valentine menu.

Bouillabaisse

Homemade Bread

Salad from the Garden

+++

Brownies

Strawberry Ice Cream

Fresh Blackberries

This soup is wonderful for guests because you can make the broth ahead, and then throw in the fish for five minutes right before serving. The flavor of the broth is lovely, starting with fennel and leek instead of the usual carrots, onions, and celery. The recipe is mostly from the 1997 Joy of Cooking.

Bouillabaisse

1 tablespoon olive oil

1 tablespoon butter

1 leek, cut into 1/2-inch half rounds

1 small fennel bulb, cored and sliced

1 stalk celery, thinly sliced

1 bay leaf

1 star anise

Peel of 1/2 orange

1/4 teaspoon saffron threads

1/2 teaspoon salt

Heat the oil and butter and gently saute the above ingredients for 5 to 10 minutes, until tender but not browned. Then add

3 cloves garlic, finely chopped

Saute a further 2 minutes, then add

1 tablespoon tomato paste

1/2 cup dry white vermouth

Boil gently for 3 minutes. Stir in

1 one-pound can diced tomatoes

3 cups Fish Broth*

1/2 teaspoon cayenne pepper

3/4 teaspoon salt, depending on the saltiness of your broth

Bring to a boil, reduce heat, and simmer gently for 20 minutes. You can stop at this point if you want.

Just before serving time, stir in 1 1/2 to 2 pounds of mixed fish and shellfish, cut in similar sizes so they will cook in the same amount of time--or else put the larger items in first. Cook up to 5 minutes or until just cooked. For this batch I used:

1/2 pound shrimp (I used the shells in the broth)

1/2 pound cod in 1-inch chunks

3/4 pound bay scallops

2 Australian lobster tails, cut in half lengthwise

1 can chopped clams

*I made this particular fish stock by simmering the shrimp shells, the juice from the can of clams, and a couple of tablespoons of fish sauce with water.

PS: We had the leftover soup for lunch today with Grandma and it was still excellent. Be careful not to reheat too much.

Fancy Nachos

Trying to use up food from the fridge, I made pretentious fancy nachos with:

• homemade corn chips
• bourbon-tomatillo black beans
• goat Brie
• white cheddar
• roasted red peppers
• cilantro
• chives

I made the corn chips by cutting up corn tortillas and frying them in a small amount of peanut oil.

I made the beans by opening a can of black beans and cooking them down with some Herdez green salsa and 1/8 cup of bourbon. No kidding.

I compiled the whole thing and baked it for 10 minutes or so.

No meat here...maybe something like leftover roasted duck or homemade wild boar sausage might have been silly enough to match the rest of the dish.

Enchiladas and Beans

We cooked our standard comfort food yesterday: green chile enchiladas and beans. Tonight we had pulled pork, sweet potatoes, and ratatouille over at Grandma's. It's cold here. At 50 degrees, our thoughts turn to all-day oven dishes.

However, the real purpose of this post is to share that flatbread recipe you asked for.

Brown Rice Flour Flatbread

3/4 cup brown rice flour
1/2 cup blanched almonds
3/4 cup mixed gluten-free flour mix
1/2 teaspoon anise seed
2 tablespoons sesame seed
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon xantham gum

Process above ingredients in a food processor until finely ground.

1/2 cup plain yogurt
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 egg
1/2 cup water

Mix yogurt, olive oil, egg, and water in a measuring cup. Add to processor bowl and process for about 30 seconds to make a sticky batter.

Spray a baking sheet with non-stick spray, or line with parchment paper.

Scoop the dough out onto the baking sheet into two lumps. Pat into flat round cakes with the help of a little additional rice flour. Slash the tops of the cakes in a grid pattern, 1/4 inch deep. Bake at 400 degrees for about 25 minutes. Cool on wire rack.

February Thaw

Mom, we're geniuses. I just made that cocktail we invented in conversation last week, and it's great: a Campari and soda, but with an ounce of gin to cut the sweetness and make it stiffer.

The best part is that the gin and Campari flavors both come through well, with their two different varieties of bitterness. It's modeled on a negroni, of course, which is equal parts gin, sweet vermouth, and Campari, but is far less bizarre than a negroni, which is a drink I can probably have only once every few years, so sweet, strong, and unsettling is it.

This is 1 ounce of gin, 3 ounces of Campari, and maybe 5-6 ounces of soda -- enough soda to fill an ice-filled glass the rest of the way. Very good.

There's an actual sunset occurring here in Columbia at this very moment.

Last night, to capitalize on the warm weather, I grilled hot dogs. I also made a salad of mixed lettuces, sugar snap peas, and strawberries; the dressing was lemon juice, tahini, olive oil, honey, salt, pepper, and fresh mint. Very summery.

As much as I loved cooking and eating with you and Dad, it's good to be back in my own kitchen again, you know?

Cooking Fish with Eva

Here's another meal we made together last week: red snapper with charmoula, green beans, and gluten-free flatbread.

I liked this flat round of unleavened bread made of brown rice flour, gluten-free baking flour mixture, egg, yogurt, and baking soda. It didn't try to mimick yeast bread, but was flavorful and slightly crunchy. It's from The Wheat-Free Cookbook by Jacqueline Mallorca.

Cooking Habit Live and In Person: Plating

I liked this sequence of photos from when we made dinner together earlier this week, Mom.

First, roasted tomato vinaigrette.

Then polenta -- just coarse cornmeal and water simmered for a few hours and finished with butter and parmesan -- and pan-grilled grouper.

And finally swiss chard, grown and harvested by Dad and sauteed by you with some garlic.