Venison Chili

Monday 7 November

Sharon kindly gave us some V-burger, so we were inspired to make a big batch of chili, and have her and Liz over to help us eat it.  We made it much as before, but this time with no bell pepper (Liz is allergic).

Holt baked some wonderful cornbread muffins to go along, using this recipe, but without the inclusions (onion, cheese, corn kernels, red peppers).  He used the coarse polenta cornmeal we got at Northside Farmers Market from a pleasant young woman with a mill, and it was terrific: very corny and a beautiful rough texture.

We also had a salad of greens gathered from Sharon's garden, and since the late arugula was very peppery and strong, dressed it with something to sweeten it: a spoonful of our own pesto, loosened with some white balsamic and a droplet of extra oil.

Dessert was our long-hoarded jar of Michael Clark's preserved pears in wine sauce.  Oh, and there was lots of red wine at all phases of the meal.

Fresh Tuna Sauté with Ham-wrapped Asparagus

Sunday 6 November

Much of our cooking could be called "unwittingly elegant," witness this seat-of-the-pants effort.  It started when we scored some hothouse-grown asparagus from the Farmers' Market, plus some Serrano ham bought from Krause's on spec.  We roasted the asparagus at 500º until tender, then made little bundles and wrapped them in the tissue-thin ham.  

The protein was provided by a defrosted packet of Trader Joe's 'ahi tuna nuggets, marinated for ten or 15 minutes with olive oil, lemon juice, and oregano, briefly sautéed, and the pan deglazed with white wine.  This had no particular ethnicity, and we had no idea where we were going with it, but it worked.

Best Meatloaf Ever, and Sweet Potato Fries

Saturday 5 November

Though I usually dislike the "America's Test Kitchen" TV show, I got a couple of tips from them that helped me (i.e., Barbara) make the Best Meatloaf Ever.  One "secret" was to use half ground beef, half ground pork; the other was to make a panade, i.e. whiz up a bunch of saltines into about a half cup of crumbs in the robocoupe and then whip in about a quarter cup of milk and two eggs.  That got mushed into the meat.  Unfortunately, I don't know which secret made the big difference; both would have been anathema in the kosher home I grew up in. 

Otherwise, the seasonings went like this, though I added about a quarter cup of wheat bran, since I thought the panade wasn't enough in the breadcrumb department.

We also made these sweet potato fries in a separate tray.  You don't need to mix the spices and oil beforehand and toss in a bowl, really, just lay the potatoes out on the tray, drizzle with oil, toss them about, premix the dry spices, sprinkle them on the potatoes, and toss again.

Served with lashings of ketchup.  Did I say?  Best.  Meatloaf.  Ever.

Roasted Chicken Thighs and Root Vedge

Friday 4 November

Dora likes to watch us make dinner every night, so she takes her position at the center of things (the interior of the dishwasher is also fascinating to our Explorer).  She doesn't much care where she sits, but the computer we run the recipes on is nice and warm, and her ass just fits on the track pad.

While she supervised, we got out a pack of 6 chicken thighs, and did a surprising new recipe, one we could almost see over her.

Thighs were roasted for 25 minutes, taken out and put in the toaster oven at 350º while the vegetables (plus some parsnips) roasted for another 25 minutes.  And by the way, no need to pre-toss the vedge with oil and salt mixture; wait until the chicken comes out, and just toss it in the pan with rendered fat, no more oil needed, and then toss salt mixture on.

Though the recipe sounded oversimplified and bland, it turned out golden, crispy and addictive.  This will become a standard.

Fettucine with Creamy Crab and Lemon-lime Thyme

Thursday 3 November

As it's a weeknight, we didn't have time to make fresh pasta, as we had twice before. 

So for extra interest, the herbs were included in the sauce: saute garlic and one third the thyme for a minute in butter, deglaze with lemon vodka, add cream to thicken, then rest of lemon and lime thyme and a sprinkle of white pepper.  Oh, and throw in the crab (the other half of the pound can from day before yesterday) at the end.

Tossed with hot fettucine, and the thyme added both green freshness and citrus tang to the lush crab.

Pork Chops and Chard

Wednesday 2 November

The chard in the garden is beautiful, but what to serve with it?  Out of the freezer came a pair of thick pork medallions, which we dusted with some leftover "poultry seasoning" from Cooking with Julia.  We just frequent-flipped them in butter and oil, then deglazed the pan with white wine for a sauce.

The chard recipe was adapted from a steakhouse classic; there are recipes that use fewer herbs, but in our opinion chard needs all the help it can get.

Creamed rainbow chard

1 large bunch Swiss chard, washed, leaves removed from the stem, stem and leaves chopped separately; leaves still wet.

butter

2 shallots, chopped

2 cloves garlic, minced

ca. 3/4 cup heavy cream

1 sprig fresh rosemary, minced

2 sprigs fresh thyme, de-stemmed

Salt and white pepper

Melt 2 tablespoons butter in a large pan over medium heat. Add chopped chard stems, then shallots, then garlic; cook, stirring occasionally, about ten minutes total. Stir in as many of the chard leaves as fit in the pan and cook, stirring occasionally, until you can add more, until all are done and tender.  Press and drain any extra liquid out of the pan.

Add cream (enough to make it as creamy as you want - you can't be precise when you only know it's a "large bunch!"), herbs, salt and pepper, and raise heat to thicken. 

At end, add Parmesan to taste, for creamy goodness next to the savory pork.  Hey, or maybe next time creamy gorgonzola chard!

Crabcakes and Salad

Tuesday 1 November

Holt is the crabcake master, though the recipe changes every time.  This time he diced up a pair of tiny sweet orange bell peppers as well as celery and red onion.  The crab it got mixed into, as usual, was half a pound can of fresh clawmeat, plus a sprinkling of fine panko from the sieve, a dollop of mayonnaise, and a dab of Dijon mustard.  The fluffy panko that didn't make it through the sieve made up the breading, and then we fried them in canola oil.

On the side, arugula and bag-ripened tomatoes from the garden, dressed with the good Spanish olive oil and wine vinegar.