Moving the Site

I'll be moving this site to http://grapefruitpamplemousse.com. Of course, I hope to add more content (more frequently), but you can find all the old posts there for now.

Smoke, Smoke, Smoke that Pastrami

Silly title, I know, but I can’t help but thinking of the intro song to Thank You For Smoking when I think of smoke in any capacity.  It’s a catchy tune, and I heartily suggest you give it a listen. 

Now that that’s out of the way…

Allow me to refresh your memory about what I’m working on…  In my last post, I explained that I am preparing turkey breast, pastrami style per Stephen Raichlen’s recipe.  I took the ‘cured’ turkey out of the fridge, removed the plastic wrap, and let it warm up a bit at room temperature.  I’m always hearing this is the right thing to do when cooking meats, so I do not question.

This is what the turkey looked like the night before cooking:

You can see most of the cure didn’t stick to the meat and it looked very dry, sandy almost.  Below, you can see what the turkey looked like after a night’s slumber.  The salt and sugar pulled some moisture from the bird to make the spice mix into a sticky, fragrant paste.

I put the turkey breast, minus extraneous cure, on the grill with plenty of charcoal and hickory chips.  The charcoal and wood chips were positioned on one side of the grill with the meat on the other.  The lid was on the grill throughout cooking, except when I was checking on the meat and snapping pics.  I positioned the holes in the lid over the meat to draw the smoke over it, and also rotated the meat 180° halfway through cooking so the other side of the turkey got some exposure to the hotter side of the grill.  I did this more for even smoking than even heating.

I really just wanted to cook the turkey recipe, but needed to find a way of serving it.  I settled on turkey Rueben sandwiches.  So while the turkey was on the grill, getting its smoke on, I got to work on the accoutrements for my mini-Ruebens.  They include this triptych of sauerkraut, Russian dressing, and emmental.:

Not content to serve up run-of-the-mill sauerkraut, I headed to Fairway for true Alsatian choucroute.  What’s the difference between choucroute and sauerkraut?  Oh, about $6.  Seriously, this stuff was $8 for the bucket. 

I’m reminded of a joke I heard, I want to say from Alton Brown: What’s the difference between EN-dive and ahn-DEEVE? 

The price!

Actually, the choucroute was less vinegar-ish (normal people might say “acidic”) than regular sauerkraut, and had more of a funky, fermented taste to it.  It was good, but I wish it had a bit more punch.  I suppose I should mention what I consider ‘regular sauerkraut’: something like Boar’s Head.

 

I got to work straining the choucroute, but really, there wasn’t very much moisture to drain away.  There’s something I love about this picture.  You may have to be a little crazy to love any picture of sauerkraut, so count me in the crazy club, I guess.

When the turkey was 160°F, I pulled it off the grill and let it rest and cool.  There was a piece of turkey skin on there, but since it was beneath the cure, it didn’t crisp up much.  I suppose next time, and there WILL be a next time, I could wipe the excess cure off the skin.  It pretty much fell off while slicing anyway.

I love how the smoke from the grill gives meats that delightful amber hue.  It is delightful, isn’t it?

A couple years back, after several bouts of foul sliced meats from various proprietors, my family protested store-bought deli meats and decided to roast our own turkey breasts, roast beefs, etc.  We bought a meat slicer, which goes largely unused these days, but I did rock it for slicing the turkey.  It does a brilliant job, as you can see.  

While slicing the meat, I may or may not have eaten about five slices.  Of course, if I did eat any, the first two would have been eaten to verify that the turkey wasn’t poison.  The next three would, of course be eaten because they were too ugly to put on a sandwich.  If I had tasted the meat, it would have been nicely smoky, not too spicy, wanting more black pepper, but plenty moist and tender.  If…

Anyway, I got to work buttering some cocktail rye and pumpernickel breads.  Splendid photo, right?  I love several of this batch of photos.

Next, I cut the cheese…hehe.  Seriously though, I gave the emmental the meat slicer treatment.  Although I purchased about $12 worth of cheese, I only used half, and let the other half grow moldy in the fridge, only to throw it out with the remaining $6 of choucroute a couple weeks later.  I’m going to hell for all this food wasting…

The Pioneer Woman (my current FAVORITE blogger because she’s living MY life while I’m here in suburbia) has a thing for bokeh.  I wonder if she’s ever seen bokeh over cheese.  Hmmm….

I was actually bringing these sandwiches to a party.  I love showing up to a party with surprise food, especially when it’s a bit out of the ordinary.  Doesn’t everybody love surprise food???  I laid these sandwiches out, open faced, on a few baking sheets so I could melt the cheese at the party.  I don’t have any shots of the finished sandwiches, but just imagine those in the picture below with another piece of bread on top.  To be more specific, they each got a squirt of homemade Russian dressing (ketchup, mayonnaise, cayenne!) and another piece of bread.  I managed to put rye bread on top of the pumpernickel-bottomed sandwiches and pumpernickel on the rye-bottomed sandwiches, but there were no complaints.

I got good feedback from the party-goers.  Everyone seemed to enjoy these little guys, and there were no leftovers.  My own criticisms were that the bread was too dry – no cocktail breads anymore; there was not enough dressing, although I purposely limited it for mess reasons; and finally, the sauerkraut wasn’t nearly tangy enough.  I think using a different sauerkraut and baking up some fresh bread should solve two out of three of these problems.  And I might just add a messy glob of sauce too, just because the mess would be worth it.

Turkey Pastrami Prep

For Christmas this year, my brother got me a classic Weber kettle grill, something I’ve wanted for a while. I christened it with burgers right after the holiday, and barbecued a pork shoulder just last week as part of Food & Films 2010 (no post about this event yet), but I certainly don’t consider myself an excellent pitmaster. To learn more about barbecue, I’ve been reading about the technique and watching Steven Raichlen

And so it was, Friday night. I fired up the TiVo and found an episode of Primal Grill. I believe it is the first episode of the series, ‘Smoke Screen’. Raichlen prepared turkey breast pastrami-style. He cured it with salt, sugar, black pepper and other spices, then slowly smoked it, sliced it thinly, and piled it on sandwiches. I had that “I’ve got to make that” moment, and immediately began thinking of the first opportunity I’d have to get working on it. I recalled that I am going to a party on Sunday. Perfect occasion. It was decided.

Not wanting to show up to a party with just a bunch of sliced pastrami, I knew I had to do something amazing with it. Raichlen used his turkey pastrami in Reuben sandwiches, so I took his idea and ran with it. I picked up some cocktail rye and pumpernickel breads, Alsatian sauerkraut, and ementhal at Fairway, along with the turkey and spices I didn’t already have. I also may have picked up a snack…

I’d actually never had a mallomar before this evening. I’ve heard great things about them, about their addictive properties, their seasonality, their…perfection, but I never really imagined them to be anything special. I mean, it’s just marshmallow on top of a cookie, covered in chocolate, right? Pretty simple. How amazing could the mallowmar be?

Well, I did this…

…six times. They were darn good.

The cure for the turkey pastrami includes ground coriander, mace, kosher salt, garlic, paprika, black pepper, anise, dark brown sugar, pimenton, and ground mustard.

I measured all my dry ingredients….

and peeled my garlic cloves….

and chopped them coarsely.

Then, I ground the whole peppercorns and anise seeds coarsely in my coffee grinder (dedicated to spices!). I added the garlic and some canola oil to the spices to make a dry rub.

Then it was time to work on the turkey. I gave it a rinse, patted it dry, and rubbed it all over with the fragrant cure.

I wrapped it tightly with plastic wrap, set it on a plate, and put everything in the refrigerator overnight. Twenty-four hours would be nice, but that’s not going to happen. I’m going to smoke it Sunday, and should detail that process here in the next few days.

I forgot to describe one optional step… If you’re so inclined, spill red food coloring on your light colored counter tops. Then try to clean it up. Then walk around with the evidence.

You caught me red-handed.

Let Food & Films 2010 commence!

Let Food & Films 2010 commence!,
originally uploaded by marybethcarroll.

I hope to be updating throughout the day....

A Confession

I have a confession to make.  Yesterday, I made brownies from a BOX.  I know!  How could I?! 

We had some weather yesterday, and I was, well, under the weather.  So while the rest of the fam shoveled us out, I whipped up some brunch, including brownies.  I did spruce up the box mix with some chocolate chips though. 

How did they taste?  Well, like brownies from a box.  They lacked the rich chocolaty goodness of my standards, and the texture was a bit puzzling, with the outside crisp and chewy, but the middle gooey and fudgy.  They got us through brunch though, and I didn’t have to feel like such a slacker for not shoveling. 

Beef Stew

Last week, the average low temperature around these parts was 28°F. Not absolutely frigid, but not exactly warm either. This, my friends, is stewing weather.

 

I will confess up front, however, that I did not make any stew this past week. Nope. Not me. But I did eat some! Big T. made it, and he declared it his best beef stew in a long while, and perhaps his best beef stew ever. I will also confess right here and now that these pictures are not from Big T.'s best ever beef stew of last week, but rather from a beef stew I made last year. Yup, this post has been waiting a year to be written, and here I am.

 

And, I guess while I’m pouring my heart out, I should further confess that I really don’t like beef stew all that much.  Yeah.  Sorry, Big T.  Beef stew is a little too rich, too hearty, too…..masculine for me.  I just can’t appreciate the in-your-face meat-and-potatoes heaviness of it.  I like all of the ingredients on their own and in various combinations, but it seems when they are all dumped into the same pot, I just don’t enjoy it.  Therefore, when I’m making beef stew, I do a few things to cut the richness and overwhelming beef flavor.

 

I don’t really have a recipe for beef stew.  I think any logical combination of meat and vegetables works in some way, and I still haven’t found any amazingly earth-shattering mélange.  However, there are a few ingredients and a few techniques that I will apply to every beef stew I make. 

 

I start by trimming any excessive or hard fat from the meat.  The longer I plan on stewing, the bigger the pieces of meat.  I want them tender, but not stringy and devoid of all texture.  What kind of meat?  Ideally, chuck roast, but almost anything will work.  Then, I heat up some oil in a heavy Dutch oven (oven-safe).  I season the meat with salt and pepper, maybe a little garlic powder, and flour it lightly.  I brown it until it looks delicious and perfect, working in as small of batches as is necessary to accomplish this task.  Sometimes the browning alone takes nearly an hour.  I remove all the meat from the pan and then sweat some onion, garlic, carrot, and whatever other aromatics I plan on using for my broth.  Next, it’s time to brown the tomato paste.  Yep, tomato paste.  Always tomato paste.  There is no better way to add dimension to a stew or braise than with tomato paste.  It does some umami magic and stew without tomato paste isn’t worth eating.  (Again, sorry Big T.)  Once the tomato paste is a gloriously rusty shade of brick, I deglaze with some red wine.  This is essential.  It adds acidity and brightness to the overall dish, and a great fruity quality.  Yum.  The meat goes back in, and I add beef stock or, much more likely, water to cover.  Not too much!  Just cover the meat.  I add a bay leaf and maybe some thyme and bring to a simmer.  Then it goes in the oven.  You preheated your oven, right?  I like a temperature of about 250-275°F.  It doesn’t matter as long as it’s not too high.  I figure the stew will simmer at an internal temperature of 212°F-ish, but the oven needs to be a little warmer.  The great thing about stewing in the oven is that you don’t really need to stir.  I still do, every hour or so to make myself feel important, but there’s not really any risk of burning and the heat is infinitely more even than you can achieve on the stove.  I let the stew simmer in the oven for 2 hours or until the meat is just about at the desired level of tenderness. 

 

While the stew is….erhm…stewing, I cut up the vegetables I want in the stew.  The aromatics I added earlier will basically be mush and have given all their flavor to the broth.  I don’t really strain them out, but I do add some fresh stuff for textural reasons and for brighter flavors.  I pretty much always do carrots and potatoes, but sometimes add corn, string beans, peas, etc.  Put the vegetables in the pot when the meat is nearly done, add more liquid if necessary to just cover everything, and put the pot back in the oven. 

 

Next, and this is a requirement for me, fill a big ole pot with water and set it on high heat.  This, my friends, is for the EGG NOODLES.  Stew, for me, is mostly an excuse to eat egg noodles.  By the time the water boils and the noodles cook, the vegetables you added to the stew should be just about done.  If you want larger chunks of vegetables, you may need to adjust your timing for the egg noodles, but whatever you do, don’t forget the EGG NOODLES!  Big T. forgot the egg noodles.

 

If you wish, thicken the stew with flour or cornstarch dissolved in cold water.  Just mix a tablespoon or two with the water and slowly add to boiling stew.  Make sure to stir as you add your starch of choice.  I bet blending some potatoes would thicken the stew up too.  I should try that. 

 

Anyway, put a little butter on your noodles and then pour on a ladle of stew.  Have a glass of red wine and compliment yourself on your delicious stew.  Then, declare it the best you’ve made in a long time, and perhaps your best stew ever.

 

 

Test

This is a test post.  If it works well, exciting things will be on the horizon!

Perfect Roast Chickens

Throughout my childhood, Sundays always meant roasted meats. Every now and again, we'd have a pork loin, but usually we had either roast beef or chicken. I'm not roast beef's biggest fan -- I prefer my beef ground and grilled with a slice of cheese on top -- but until recently, I vastly preferred roast beef to roast chicken. Roast chicken was dry, tough, tasteless. The only good thing about it was gravy and the Stove Top usually paired with it. Mom would buy eight pound Purdue oven stuffer roasters and cook the hell out of them. In her defense, it's nearly impossible to properly cook a bird that big. It's the turkey paradox -- by the time the thigh is done, the white meat has the texture of saw dust.

Nowadays, though, I friggen love roasted chicken. I've discovered good quality chickens that are the perfect size for even roasting. I now exclusively buy and roast Murray's or Bell & Evans chickens, with Murray's as my bird of choice. They're a bit more money than Purdue, and for Sunday dinner, one is definitely not big enough for my family, but they are unbeatable when cooked properly. They taste like football and family and love and all that crap. Oh, and they taste like chicken!

I do most of my grocery shopping at King Kullen. They usually sell Murray's chickens for $2.59 per pound. For the three to four pound birds I love, that translates to $8-10. For two birds, the $16-20 yields more than one meal. We don't eat all the meat, and small chickens make the best stock.

I don't exclusively buy "organic" or "natural" products. I don't trust these labels. However, I do like the idea of regional (if not local), sustainable, healthy foods that are raised, grown, or otherwise produced without manufactured products (like antibiotics, chemical fertilizers, processed feed, etc.). Murray's is doing this great thing where they label the birds with a code that allows the customer to look up the farm on which the chicken was raised. I think this is kind of cool. I like knowing where my food is coming from.

This chicken is from Pennsylvania! It grew up on either the Brubaker Farm in Middleburg, PA or the Wertz Brothers farm in Danville, PA.

Like all Murray's chickens, this one was grown and processed without antibiotics, hormones, growth stimulants, animal by-products, artificial ingredients, or preservatives.

Murray's also claims that the birds are humanely raised and handled. There's a lot of information about this on the Humane Farm Animal Care web site. Look for this label if you care about farm animal welfare.

For a great Sunday dinner, it's not only important to buy the best chicken, but to cook it the best way. Start by drying it thoroughly with paper towels. Then season aggressively, especially inside the cavity. I used salt, fennel seed, celery seed, poultry seasoning, cayenne, and black pepper. (See the end of this post for amounts).

This was a more complex seasoning mix than I usually use. In general, I like salt, fennel seeds, and cayenne pepper. I tried out the celery seed here just because it sounded good, and I used a little poultry seasoning so I have less to throw away. We seem to have purchased excessive amounts of this blend during the 2008 Thanksgiving season. Really, the most important seasoning of all is the salt though. I use about a tablespoon per chicken.

I season the outside of the birds evenly and then season the cavity. I probably use two thirds of the seasoning on the inside of the chicken and the remaining third on the outside. I roasted the birds side by side in a V-rack breast side up. My technique has changed now, however. I start the birds breast side down and roast for the first half of cooking that way. If I'm just roasting one bird, I like to put cook it in my 12" cast iron skillet. It's the perfect size. If I care about presentation, I will put a small piece of parchment on the bottom of the pot so the skin does not stick and break. Usually, I don't care though.

I don't truss the birds. I usually tuck the wings under and put the ends of the drum sticks in slits in the skin at the tail end. The skin shrinks as it cooks and pulls the legs in tight to the body, helping everything cook evenly. It also leaves the cavity open by pulling the skin away. This allows the heat to flow into the cavity so the bird cooks from the outside and inside. I NEVER stuff the bird. No lemon. No garlic. No onions. No herbs. Just dry seasonings.

I like to roast at 400F. They take around an hour, but I always use my thermometer to cook to 160F. I let the birds rest, but I don't cover them with foil. Then I usually just split the bird at the joints. Don't forget to eat the oysters and the Pope's nose! They are the chef's treats. On rare occasions, I will make gravy, but it usually comes out too salty. I'd rather a perfectly seasoned bird than gravy.

Check out that perfectly browned skin!

Perfect Roast Chicken Recipe
Adapted from Adam Roberts

INGREDIENTS:

• 2 3-4 lb chickens
• 2 tbsp salt
• 1/2 to 1 tbsp fennel seeds
• 1/4 to 1/2 tsp cayenne
  

METHOD:

Remove chicken from refrigerator and allow to come to room temperature (1-2 hours).

Mix salt, fennel seeds, and cayenne pepper. Set aside.

Preheat oven to 400F. Line a roasting pan with parchment. Choose the smallest possible roasting pan that will accommodate both chickens.

Thoroughly dry chickens, inside and out, with paper towels. This will create a crisper skin.

Place the birds in the pan and season the cavities VERY aggressively. You should use about 2/3 of the seasoning mixture. Then, season the breast and wings of the bird, putting more seasoning on areas where the meat is thicker. Flip the birds so they are sitting breast sides down in the pan and season the backs. Focus on the legs and thighs. All your seasoning should be used up.

Roast for about 30 minutes breast side down at 400F. Flip and roast another 15 minutes. Check the temperature of the breast and thigh in EACH bird. They should be 160F. If not, cook another 10-15 minutes and check again. Repeat until the birds are done. If it takes more than 1 hr 20 mins, something is wrong. The birds were not room temperature, or your oven and/or thermometer are broken. You can cut the skin between the thigh and the body and the juices should be clear or just slightly pink. Allow to rest, uncovered, for about 10 minutes. Then carve as you like.

Serves 6-8.

Lemon Chicken with Pasta

Speaks for itself, no?