A Mexican Getaway...

...Without Leaving Home. I haven't been home or not hung over (or both) for several weekends now, so I've been looking forward to a clear-eyed Saturday getting reacquainted with my kitchen. I even went so far as to remove some meat from the freezer before work Friday morning enabling me to hit the ground running without impinging on my pot of coffee and morning papers.

It's been a Mexican-Free Zone for an alarming stretch of time now and something simply has to be done about it. So, since I'm purposefully and blissfully alone this weekend, why not another installment in the solo meals series. Today: spicy pork fajitas and a chili corn side. Although the braising takes several hours, the prep work is a snap and after that, it's pretty much a hands-free work environment. In fact, I'm juggling iTunes, the Buick Invitational, the New Yorker and this blog entry while the pork is slowly breaking down into its tender goodliness.

My last pork entry was a honey & mustard-glazed roast, and I admit to being something of a student of the hot/sweet school, so this time it was a chili and brown sugar coating. Why brown sugar? Well, the molasses and trace minerals added to unrefined sugar undergo mysterious transformations in the presence of amino acids (protein) and all those wonderful pork juices. Don't ask me to elaborate, I can't. Let's just say it tastes bloody good, and leave it at that.

So I started with an inventory of the cupboards and, as usual, went with what I had on hand: onion, garlic, olive oil, white wine vinegar, chili powder, brown sugar and some other spices. I played around with measurements that looked right (I hate measuring, but will provide estimates later in the post), tossed everything into the food processor and broke it all down into a chunky paste.

The paste got rubbed into the pork roast, and worked into the meat thoroughly. I set the roast into a Dutch oven with one cup each of chicken stock and white wine. Covered, the pot went into a 300° pre-heated oven for four hours. Every hour, I turned the meat and kept the level of the liquid from completely evaporating.

After three-and-a-half hours, I started checking the roast for tenderness. Once it began to fall completely apart at the slightest touch, I removed the roast from the oven and let it rest loosely covered for 15 minutes.

While the meat rested, I moved the Dutch oven to the stovetop and reduced the juices and residual liquid over a medium low flame. While the sauce reduced, I heated sweet corn in a Tbsp of olive oil for about ten minutes. I added some minced roasted red peppers, chili powder, cumin and some red pepper flake, since I had no cayenne in the house. After about five minutes, I tasted for salt and removed from the heat.

The pork shredded effortlessly and needed no dressing short of some of the reduced broth from the Dutch oven. It remained juicy throughout the meal. There was a perfect balance of sweet and spice. A Mexican futbol goal!

Heap shredded pork on a serving platter and decorate with lime wedges. Serve with warm flour tortillas and sour cream or pico de gallo, or tomatillo salsa. Whatever you have on hand. If I had had company, I would have grilled whole scallions to serve with the pork and made fried plantain strips to serve on the side. Pile the juicy pork in a tortilla and add your favorite topping before wrapping it up and eating with your hands.

Only because I thought the label was cool, I picked up a Longboard Vineyards 2006 Sauvignon Blanc from the Russian River Valley. It was a great food wine. The spices in the meat and corn complimented subtleties in the bouquet and taste. Here were my tasting notes without and then with food: Nose: floral soap, herbal tea Mouth: dry, acidic, green apple and grapefruit flavors. Balanced finish. With food: Herbs come through in the bouquet. Citric complexities in the finish. Tartness without the pucker. Sorry for the shorthand, everyone has their own way of articulating the ephemeral. But it was a fine wine with spicy food. Longboard is a bit of an upstart with minor touchy-feely aspirations. Their website is good for a chuckle or two, especially if you've grown up around surfing. I wonder if sometimes I sound as big a tool!

As promised:

Brown sugar and chili paste: (for a 3-4 lb pork roast) 1 tsp dried oregano 1 tsp ground cumin 1 tsp chili powder 1½ Tbsp white wine vinegar 4 cloves garlic 4 Tbsp olive oil ¼-cup dark brown sugar 1 medium yellow onion Pulse all ingredients in a food processor until the onion is broken down and a thick paste forms. Rub all over your pork roast.

Chili corn: 16 oz sweet corn kernels ¼ tsp ground cumin ¼ tsp cayenne pepper 1 tsp chili powder 1 Tbsp olive oil ¼-cup roasted red pepper, finely minced. Heat oil in a small saucepan over medium heat. Add corn and heat through for about 10 minutes. Add the spices and peppers and cook through for five minutes. Season to taste and remove from heat.

Any guesses on Sunday's menu? Shredded pork tostadas with black beans and queso fresco!

Thanks for taking the time - Blog O. Food

On A Cold Winter's Day

"'If you are careful,' Garp wrote, 'if you use good ingredients, and you don't take any shortcuts, then you can usually cook something very good. Sometimes it is the only worthwhile product you can salvage from a day; what you make to eat.... Cooking, therefore, can keep a person who tries hard sane.'" - John Irving (The World According to Garp)

What do you do when the thermometer reads Stay Indoors? Well, in our house, you cook. Oh, not just any dish, but something really special to warm the heart as well as the belly. With the temperature outside nose diving through the freezing point, but a fire blazing in the living room and plenty of Scotch and red wine in the cellar, great thinkers assembled to thrash out what to have for dinner. Cookbooks were consulted, opinions lobbied, the Internets scoured. Finally, with a nod to simplicity, pot roast was proffered. Straightforward, hearty, satisfying. Consensus was reached. And to round out the menu? Potatoes (naturally), something savory, a palate cleanser, and pie. Pie: it pops off the lips, and fades into a sigh, doesn't it? Just uttering the word sets one off on flights of fancy...

A Cold Winter's Day Menu: Pot Roast Potato Pancakes Homemade Applesauce Temple Orange and Walnut Salad Peach Pie

With shopping lists in hand, our team split up to gather all the necessary ingredients and get back to the house as quickly as possible. I was in charge of the beef and sides, my lovely co-chef would pick out the dessert at Tate's Bake Shop. Tate's is an institution. Their cookies are legendary. If you're even remotely close, don't bother with baking dishes, measuring cups, wet & dry ingredients; leave it to Tate's.

I found a beautiful three and a half pound cut of boneless chuck at the butcher. Not too lean, but no one was gonna need triple-bypass surgery afterwards either. The rest of the ingredients were easy: carrots, celery, onions, turnips, yellow peppers, potatoes and apples. Boom, I was done.

On the stovetop, I seared the seasoned chuck roast in three tablespoons of oil (I confess to using a little bacon fat with some good olive oil) over medium-high heat in a Dutch oven. I browned all four sides.

While the meat browned, Muffy, my culinary muse, prepped the vegetables. All everything needed was a rough chop, but she went the extra mile by inserting one clove stem into each quartered onion. Believe me, it was gonna make a difference in the finished sauce, so no mocking the muse!

Halfway through the browning, we tossed the vegetables into the pot with the chuck roast, then finished searing the meat. Once browned, a 1:1 ratio of red wine and beef stock (about 4 cups) went into the Dutch oven. Covered, the pot went into a 300° pre-heated oven where it would remain for the next three hours. Every hour or so, we would check the roast and add more liquid if necessary.

Time passed. Kids watched TV. The grown-ups slipped off to Channing Daughters Winery for a little tasting, while alchemy, magic and the Maillard reaction went on inside the oven.

With about an hour before the curtain rose on dinner, Muffy grated some potatoes, let them drain in a colander, and then tossed them with flour and beaten egg. Generous spoons-full of potato were ladled into about ¼ inch of hot vegetable oil, flattened into 3-inch rounds and left to brown. They were flipped over half way through the browning process.

Macintosh apples were given a medium chop, tossed with cinnamon, allspice and a little honey, and reduced over medium heat in a saucepan.

Now perfectly braised, the pot roast came out of the oven to rest for about 15 minutes, and the sauce was enriched with a little more beef stock and thickened with sour cream.

Muffy's daughter prepared an eye-popping salad with mixed greens, whole orange sections and walnut halves. She took her very first stab at a vinaigrette with red wine vinegar, olive oil, garlic, tarragon, a dollop of Dijon mustard and just a splash of Balsamic. We were witness to the next generation of food star that day.

We ladled vegetables and sauce over the shredded beef, and I went so far as to run the remainder through a metal strainer and into a sauce boat for the table. And just like that, it all came together.

I am always a little let down by the time the family is called to the table. For me, the fun part is over. Sure, I'm as keen on praise and recognition for my efforts as the next guy, but the process is the performance. The rest is just curtain calls. The meticulousness required in the preparation is what intrigues me. Like Garp, if I'm careful and conscientious, I'm almost always assured of the outcome.

Thanks for taking the time - Blog O. Food

Just Toss It In There

If you're lucky enough to have a weekend place out in the Hamptons, or just know someone who does, you grow accustomed to a refrigerator full of leftovers by Sunday morning and are prepared in advance to whittle them down. That, I think, is why the egg preceded the chicken. A frittata, that noble, unaffected Italian omelette will make quick work of the three roasted asparagus spears, half a bell pepper, and wedge of Gouda from the appetizer course. The real trick is to pick two or three ingredients and resist tossing in the kitchen sink. Last weekend's kitchen scavenger hunt offered up a fennel bulb, a couple of sweet Italian sausage links, some Swiss and Parmesan cheeses, and a few herbs: a potential for the sum being much greater than its parts.

Although the prep work is similar, in my opinion, the frittata is easier to prepare than the traditional French omelette. You aren't faced with the whole folding challenge, and there is almost no guess work as to how runny the thing is gonna turn out by the time it hits the plate. Of course, the omelette is a lot more elegant from a presentation standpoint, but we're talking leftovers here, and so have already ceded the high ground.

Frittata basics: 12 eggs 3 Tbsp liquid - water, milk, half-n-half, cream (I use buttermilk) Salt and pepper

Very lightly beat all ingredients in a mixing bowl, just until incorporated. I don't like a lot of air in the beaten eggs.

In a large skillet, cook eggs in a little oil and butter over medium heat, scraping the sides and bottom of the pan as the eggs begin to set. When the mixture starts to solidify into a whole, but is still mostly wet, stop stirring and cook for one more minute to set eggs on the underside.

Put skillet about 6" below a pre-heated broiler in your oven and cook for 4-6 minutes. Watch the eggs carefully. They should brown thoroughly but will burn rather quickly once browning begins.

Remove skillet from the oven and let the frittata sit for 5-10 minutes to allow the center to finish cooking through.

Cut into wedges and serve with fresh salsa, sour cream or just plain.

If you're adding vegetables or meat to your frittata, heat them in the skillet first and then pour in the egg mixture. With cheese, add half to the wet egg/vegetable/meat mix, and sprinkle the rest over the egg mixture after you've stopped stirring and are waiting for the bottom to set.

Here's a caveat for you newer cooks: the latest gadget is the frittata pan: two pans, actually, with interlocking handles that allow you to "effortlessly" flip a frittata and brown the top without broiling. While I'm all for kitchen pornography, you just don't need this pan. Of course, if you have more money than brains, Williams-Sonoma will gladly take $135 for a 10" nonstick pan. Knock yourself out.

For some reason, this dish is a showstopper, especially for kids with fussy tastes. Must be the cheese. In any event, get in there and be creative, just think in terms of compatibilities. If it sounds like something you'd serve together for a meal, it will probably translate well in a frittata.

Thanks for taking the time - Blog O. Food