Wednesday
The whole fam damily arrives on the day before Thanksgiving, and there is nothing better for feeding seventeen people than a big ol' ham. And sweet potatoes baked in their jackets. And broad beans with ham. And bread. And rolls. And cheesecake, because it's Joanna's birthday. Remember, this is the day BEFORE Thanksgiving.
Wednesday, November 22, 2006
Classic Roast
Tues.
JoDee, in her capacity as ÜberMutter, was taking two kids to fourteen events, and left the Classic Roast in the Classic Oven. The Roast Beast of Old Tennessee consists of a fine slab of beef, richly covered in the fat of sacrifice--as Homer sang--then slow cooked in a covered metal roaster, with potatoes, onions, apples, and carrots, until the meat and everything else falls apart. Makes its own gravy.
JoDee, in her capacity as ÜberMutter, was taking two kids to fourteen events, and left the Classic Roast in the Classic Oven. The Roast Beast of Old Tennessee consists of a fine slab of beef, richly covered in the fat of sacrifice--as Homer sang--then slow cooked in a covered metal roaster, with potatoes, onions, apples, and carrots, until the meat and everything else falls apart. Makes its own gravy.
Birthday Dinner
Die Dove (pronounced dee doo-vah)
My birthday (never you mind which one--all right, 50th. There, happy now?)
JoDee and David did a feast for my birthday. The main dish was dove (actually many doves, all lovingly shot by David), breast boned out, cut into paillards, whacked flat, and each wrapped around a bit of onion and a slice of jalapeño. Each piece was then wrapped in a strip of bacon and secured with a toothpick (red counterintuitively indicating jalapeño-less bits, for the kids) and briefly broiled. Extraordinarily good. Dove, squab, roof chicken, rat with wings, what you will, it's red meat on the wing, so we had one of David's bottles of Paradigm (Cab Sauv 2001) with it. To follow, a slice of Red Velvet Cake. A Happy, Happy Birthday.
My birthday (never you mind which one--all right, 50th. There, happy now?)
JoDee and David did a feast for my birthday. The main dish was dove (actually many doves, all lovingly shot by David), breast boned out, cut into paillards, whacked flat, and each wrapped around a bit of onion and a slice of jalapeño. Each piece was then wrapped in a strip of bacon and secured with a toothpick (red counterintuitively indicating jalapeño-less bits, for the kids) and briefly broiled. Extraordinarily good. Dove, squab, roof chicken, rat with wings, what you will, it's red meat on the wing, so we had one of David's bottles of Paradigm (Cab Sauv 2001) with it. To follow, a slice of Red Velvet Cake. A Happy, Happy Birthday.
Lasagne
Sunday, drove to my sister JoDee's house (see above and below for her husband David the Hunter). After the trip, sat down to JoDee's vegetarian lasagne: spinach, tender slices of zucchini, and onion, in the usual lasagne noodles, tomato sauce and cheese. Not vegetarian on principle, mind you. She, too, holds to the aesthetic principle that any fool can follow a recipe, but it takes a cook to turn what you happen to have on hand into something amazing.
Provençal Billi Bi--sort of.
Saturday was out last day at home before hitting the road for my Birthday, Thanksgiving, and THE CRUISE (see below). So this was a bottom of the vegetable bin soup, and turned out beautifully.
Took the one last leek, the three last zukes, and the two still OK tomatoes. Sautéed the sliced leek, added the cubed zukes and tomatoes, poured a slash of wine, flavored with thyme and a pinch or five of saffron. Then added a frozen block of bay scallops. Busted up said block as it unfroze. At the end, just as the busted-up scallops were turning opaque, added the last shot of cream in the fridge. I had a vague idea of where I was going with all this, but it wasn't until I was finished that I realized that what I had had in mind all along (in a sort of a Plato's Cave sort of way, sort of) was Billi Bi, the mussel soup of uncertain parentage and etymology. Yummies. We left with full stomachs and a clean fridge.
This was our last day at home for two weeks, so what follows will be mostly other people cooking for us, with our role mostly that of sous-chefs and galley slaves.
Took the one last leek, the three last zukes, and the two still OK tomatoes. Sautéed the sliced leek, added the cubed zukes and tomatoes, poured a slash of wine, flavored with thyme and a pinch or five of saffron. Then added a frozen block of bay scallops. Busted up said block as it unfroze. At the end, just as the busted-up scallops were turning opaque, added the last shot of cream in the fridge. I had a vague idea of where I was going with all this, but it wasn't until I was finished that I realized that what I had had in mind all along (in a sort of a Plato's Cave sort of way, sort of) was Billi Bi, the mussel soup of uncertain parentage and etymology. Yummies. We left with full stomachs and a clean fridge.
This was our last day at home for two weeks, so what follows will be mostly other people cooking for us, with our role mostly that of sous-chefs and galley slaves.
Southwest pork loin
On Friday, we had our friend, Lynne, over for a semi-impromptu- TGIF-CYJWTWATMIBPIA (Congratulations You've Just Won the Wiseman Award The Most Important Book Prize in Archaeology) supper.
We'd defrosted a small pork loin in the Cat Protection Device (a.k.a. the microwave. The device protects the thawing meat from the cat, rather than protecting the cat as such). Sort of had a SW vision, so smeared it with a paste of ancho chili in adobo (maybe 1 tsp) thickened with lots of ground cumin, coriander, a little salt, and thinned with half a lime's worth of lime juice and a glug of olive oil to make it spreadable. 45 minutes in a hot oven to cook and crust.
Let it sit for 10 unbearable minutes on the cutting board, then deglazed with white wine and the juices on the cutting board (Lynne directing traffic so that I got really most of the juice into the pan) to make a red chili gravy. Served with mashed potatoes (lotsa cream).
Graeter's Coconut Chocolate Chip and fresh pineapple for a more tropical dessert (see Sept. 1 for Graeter's).
We'd defrosted a small pork loin in the Cat Protection Device (a.k.a. the microwave. The device protects the thawing meat from the cat, rather than protecting the cat as such). Sort of had a SW vision, so smeared it with a paste of ancho chili in adobo (maybe 1 tsp) thickened with lots of ground cumin, coriander, a little salt, and thinned with half a lime's worth of lime juice and a glug of olive oil to make it spreadable. 45 minutes in a hot oven to cook and crust.
Let it sit for 10 unbearable minutes on the cutting board, then deglazed with white wine and the juices on the cutting board (Lynne directing traffic so that I got really most of the juice into the pan) to make a red chili gravy. Served with mashed potatoes (lotsa cream).
Graeter's Coconut Chocolate Chip and fresh pineapple for a more tropical dessert (see Sept. 1 for Graeter's).
Sole di Sicilia
This was a discovery made by Don Maguire molti anni fa. Don is a dean, classicist, archaeologist and old Turkey hand (the country, though since he and his wife, Fee, are brilliant cooks, probably the bird, too). He ran across a farm in Sicily, which sold all sorts of products, among which was one of the great gifts to man—Sole di Sicilia. When Don takes tours around, they usually stop there, without, as far as I'm aware, him getting the usual 20% cut (though he may take it out in trade). I tagged along one year, when Barbara was down a pit in Caesarea, and came back with a large jar, carefully wrapped in a shirt (white, of course). The shirt, when wrung out, was absolutely delicious. Enough, however, survived the leak to feed us for an age, and for me to attempt an recreation. So a very approximate recipe:
In a food processor, toss 4 cloves of garlic. Grind up with kosher salt (a KITCHEN SECRET®: when chopping garlic in a machine or even with a knife, add some salt. This absorbs the garlic juice and makes it easier to puree the cloves). Then add a couple of fistfuls of sun-dried tomatoes in oil, a handful of black olives, a palmful of capers, a finger of dried oregano, and a fingernail of red pepper. Grind up with olive oil, enough to make a sloppy paste.
Serve over pasta with gobs of parmesan. Yet another salt-fest.
In a food processor, toss 4 cloves of garlic. Grind up with kosher salt (a KITCHEN SECRET®: when chopping garlic in a machine or even with a knife, add some salt. This absorbs the garlic juice and makes it easier to puree the cloves). Then add a couple of fistfuls of sun-dried tomatoes in oil, a handful of black olives, a palmful of capers, a finger of dried oregano, and a fingernail of red pepper. Grind up with olive oil, enough to make a sloppy paste.
Serve over pasta with gobs of parmesan. Yet another salt-fest.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)