My mom's name is Janette, and she is an amazing cook. I might technically know a little more about certain spices and grilling stuff, and booze (definitely know more about booze), but that woman puts on the most magical Christmas meal, desserts too.
I found something out about myself--I will NEVER care enough about pie to try to make one from scratch. Pie is tasty and all, but other people will always do it better, and my God, it is a lot of effort. Even my mom buys pies from the store now. The world's best homemaker is tired of doing that shit herself.
I'm not going to go on about her stuffing or her ridiculous sour cream potatoes (which I make twice a year for Jesus holidays), but her desserts are simply sublime. These aren't really even desserts, they're candy. Easiest first: FUDGE.
People say easy as pie? I call bullshit, let's start a movement among the proletariat to change the phrase to easy as fudge. This is something even I can't screw up. I made a batch last night when I was despondent during a 49ers ass-handing, courtesy of the Chargers. It was ugly. However, if you follow the rules of fudge, you win. Period. No chance needed.
Ingredients:
1 12 oz can PET milk. I don't know if it's evaporated or condensed, just look for the PET can.
4.5 cups granulated sugar
18 oz semi-sweet chocolate chips
2 sticks salted butter
1 7 oz jar marshmallow creme
2 tsp vanilla extract
1 cup chopped nuts of your choosing (completely optional)
First thing you have to do is work up a boil. Throw in the PET milk and the sugar. Yes, all of it. Trust me, the 12 oz of weird yellow milk stuff will absorb all of the sugar if you keep stirring.
Once it comes to a boil, keep it there for six minutes. Stir it, continuously. Do not move. Do not pass go. Just keep stirring it.
After six minutes, take it off of the heat and add the butter, chocolate chips, and marshmallow creme. Stir it up until homogeneous. Then, add the vanilla and the nuts.
Throw it into a non-reactive pan and refrigerate. This will make more fudge than you'll EVER KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH, so give liberally.
In sadder news, I am so ashamed at the fact that I have turned some of my friends into total crackheads for my toffee. Once again, it's my mom's recipe, but the technique on this is a little trickier, and it's a little less fool-proof. Everybody equip your safety goggles and fire-proof gloves, and let's begin!
Ingredients:
1 cup salted butter
1 cup granulated sugar
12 oz. chocolate chips (I always use Ghiradelli. Milk or semi-sweet? It's up to you.)
Enough chopped nuts to thinly cover a 8" by 10" surface (I'd guess?)
Approx. 1 tsp kosher salt
Approx. 1 tsp vanilla extract
The trickiest part here is the manufacturing of the toffee itself. This requires a little prep work. Before you even THINK of heating up the butter, grab a cookie sheet. Line it with foil. Spread out the nuts (huh, huh uhuhuh), and sprinkle on a little kosher salt, like 1/4 tsp. Trust me, this is good stuff.
Prepare your chocolate chips, too. Grab a spatula for spreading purposes.
Go to the bathroom, grab a beer, put your hair up. Everybody comfortable? Ok! Let's go.
Oh, and I don't recommend doing this in a shirt that you're fond of. Butter splatters, ya know?
I don't mean to keep building this up, but this is a bit tricky. It's not rocket science or anything, but it's easy to screw up.
Ok. Get your biggest sauce pan. Make sure that there is absolutely no moisture anywhere on or in the pan before you get started. Grab a whisk. Same thing. Shake that shit out, blow dry it, I don't care. Any water will screw this up, trust me, I know from experience.
Turn the burner on HIGH. Place the pan on the burner.
Bone dry pan, bone dry whisk, time for some butter. Dump in two sticks of salted butter. I tend to add sugar toward the end of the butter-melting process in order to speed up the process, but once you add the sugar, there is no going back.
Add the sugar in two, 1/2 cup dumps. Whisk frantically. Think of making a roux, but more urgent. It's all in the wrist. If you've never made a roux, then watch somebody do it, or come over to my house one time when I'm making toffee. I'll show you. It's more technique than recipe at this point.
I can't tell you how long this goes on because I've never actually paid attention to how much time it takes. It is probably like three minutes, but it feels like an hour. I know when the candy is done by smell and color. The house starts to smell like, well, toffee, and the molten-hot sugar butter in front of you is ever-so slightly darker than the Tan color in a box of crayons.
Once you get this effect, take it off of the heat. Add about a teaspoon of salt, and whisk it to combine. Then, add the vanilla, and whisk it again. When you add the vanilla, you are at great risk to break the operation. I still freak out every time at this stage. You just have to vigilantly whisk and whisk and fucking whisk until it's molten again.
No matter how much you want to, do not touch the toffee, it is probably 400 degrees at this point, and it will hurt you if it comes into contact with skin. However, it would make a great impromptu weapon against intruders.
OK! Time to add toffee to nuts. Do not dump, rather drizzle the toffee over the nuts until they are covered by toffee. Scrape out the remaining goodness with a spatula as your mixture should be cool enough as to not melt plastic at this point. Oh yeah, make sure you use a metal whisk during the cooking process, and don't forget to scrape the bottom of the pan frequently with said whisk. OK! I think I've covered the common sense portion of this lesson.
Once the toffee is on the nuts, dump the chocolate chips over the toffee. The residual heat from the fattening hell candy will melt it. Spread it out with a spatula to get out the lumps. Stick it in the fridge for a few hours. Break it up with your hands and share with your friends, or save it in the freezer to eat by yourself on those lonely, lonely nights.
Time for bed, I have to work. When I get around to it: Janette's peanut butter squares, something that I made for the first time tonight, and I think they're going to be pretty damn awesome when they're cooled off. So long as Sean doesn't attack them in the middle of the night.
Friday, December 17, 2010
Saturday, November 13, 2010
Hangover Helper
Woo I overdid it last night, and yet for some reason, I still couldn't sleep past 10:00 this morning. This getting old thing, sucks, for sure.
One of my worst habits is going grocery shopping while I'm still intoxicated from the night before. These trips are never inexpensive, and I usually wind up with a ton of junk food, which I VERY rarely buy in more sober circumstances. Today, I woke up craving Ropa Vieja, which translates to "old clothes". It's Cuban, I think, but the Venezuelans have a version as well. Oddly enough, I got it out of a Mexican cookbook. Whatever, I don't get it either.
One thing I do get, though, is that Ropa Vieja is delicious. Completely delicious. Staggeringly delicious. This dish is the Edward Cullen of food, ugh, I can't believe I just made a Twilight reference, this hangover is a nasty one.
Anyway, here's what you'll need to put this together yourself.
3ish lbs of cheap beef
1 yellow onion
1 can of pickled serrano chiles with carrots. They sell it in Mexican grocery stores and woo boy is that juice/oil hot. Don't put your finger in it.
A few cloves of garlic, smashed
A couple other random peppers if you feel like it
Water with boullion cubes, or beef stock (I forgot beef stock, ugh)
A tablespoon or so of kosher salt
A tablespoon or so of cumin
Chili powder
I think that's it, just throw in Mexican tasting crap.
So, to start. Grab your crock pot. Throw the meat into it. Add the spices directly on top of the meat. Add the rest of the stuff into the pot. Um, it's not hard.
Set the crock pot depending on how long you want it to take. I got started around 11:00, and I wanted to eat before midnight, so I stuck it on high. About 5 hours later, it was tender enough to cut with a fork. That's what you're looking for (um, in case you've never done meat in a crockpot before). Reserve your liquid because it is wonderful.
So let it cool down unless you're a total masochist, and then shred your beef.
You'll want to get a big frying pan ready. Stick it on medium high heat, add a couple tablespoons of vegetable oil, and add the beef as you shred it to save time. Once it's in there, add a few ladles full of the cooking liquid. Try to catch a few peppers while you're fishing for broth.
I have no idea how long this step actually takes because I've never paid proper attention, but you'll know it's done when the Maillard Reaction takes place and the beef becomes crunchy. The broth will evaporate leaving behind concentrated, awesome, amazing flavor in the meat.
Once this is done, serve it up on flour tortillas with chopped radishes (trust me on this), guacamole, and queso fresco if you can find it. If your grocery store doesn't carry queso fresco (or if you were too hungover to remember it), any sort of Mexican cheese blend will do in a pinch.
Another thing you can do while waiting for the beef to crisp is to throw together side dishes! YAY! Sean calls these my "fancy beans". You'll need:
1 can corn, drained (I like the no salt added stuff, but whatever)
1 can black beans, drained and rinsed
4 cloves of garlic, smashed and chopped
1 shallot, chopped
1 jalepeno, chopped and seeds removed
1 tsp cumin
1 tsp kosher salt
1 tsp chili powder
A couple ladles full of the meat liquid
This couldn't be any easier. Cook the garlic, shallots, and jalepenos for a minute or so, until the garlic and shallots are translucent. Then, add the rest of the crap and cook it for as long as you want. I keep telling Sean that this is one of the easiest things I make, but he continues to act impressed. I'll take it.
Speaking of Sean, he went to Sam's to pick up some provisions, and look, he's back. Just in time. Everything looks done. Time to feast.
One of my worst habits is going grocery shopping while I'm still intoxicated from the night before. These trips are never inexpensive, and I usually wind up with a ton of junk food, which I VERY rarely buy in more sober circumstances. Today, I woke up craving Ropa Vieja, which translates to "old clothes". It's Cuban, I think, but the Venezuelans have a version as well. Oddly enough, I got it out of a Mexican cookbook. Whatever, I don't get it either.
One thing I do get, though, is that Ropa Vieja is delicious. Completely delicious. Staggeringly delicious. This dish is the Edward Cullen of food, ugh, I can't believe I just made a Twilight reference, this hangover is a nasty one.
Anyway, here's what you'll need to put this together yourself.
3ish lbs of cheap beef
1 yellow onion
1 can of pickled serrano chiles with carrots. They sell it in Mexican grocery stores and woo boy is that juice/oil hot. Don't put your finger in it.
A few cloves of garlic, smashed
A couple other random peppers if you feel like it
Water with boullion cubes, or beef stock (I forgot beef stock, ugh)
A tablespoon or so of kosher salt
A tablespoon or so of cumin
Chili powder
I think that's it, just throw in Mexican tasting crap.
So, to start. Grab your crock pot. Throw the meat into it. Add the spices directly on top of the meat. Add the rest of the stuff into the pot. Um, it's not hard.
Set the crock pot depending on how long you want it to take. I got started around 11:00, and I wanted to eat before midnight, so I stuck it on high. About 5 hours later, it was tender enough to cut with a fork. That's what you're looking for (um, in case you've never done meat in a crockpot before). Reserve your liquid because it is wonderful.
So let it cool down unless you're a total masochist, and then shred your beef.
You'll want to get a big frying pan ready. Stick it on medium high heat, add a couple tablespoons of vegetable oil, and add the beef as you shred it to save time. Once it's in there, add a few ladles full of the cooking liquid. Try to catch a few peppers while you're fishing for broth.
I have no idea how long this step actually takes because I've never paid proper attention, but you'll know it's done when the Maillard Reaction takes place and the beef becomes crunchy. The broth will evaporate leaving behind concentrated, awesome, amazing flavor in the meat.
Once this is done, serve it up on flour tortillas with chopped radishes (trust me on this), guacamole, and queso fresco if you can find it. If your grocery store doesn't carry queso fresco (or if you were too hungover to remember it), any sort of Mexican cheese blend will do in a pinch.
Another thing you can do while waiting for the beef to crisp is to throw together side dishes! YAY! Sean calls these my "fancy beans". You'll need:
1 can corn, drained (I like the no salt added stuff, but whatever)
1 can black beans, drained and rinsed
4 cloves of garlic, smashed and chopped
1 shallot, chopped
1 jalepeno, chopped and seeds removed
1 tsp cumin
1 tsp kosher salt
1 tsp chili powder
A couple ladles full of the meat liquid
This couldn't be any easier. Cook the garlic, shallots, and jalepenos for a minute or so, until the garlic and shallots are translucent. Then, add the rest of the crap and cook it for as long as you want. I keep telling Sean that this is one of the easiest things I make, but he continues to act impressed. I'll take it.
Speaking of Sean, he went to Sam's to pick up some provisions, and look, he's back. Just in time. Everything looks done. Time to feast.
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
Chicken n Stars, this is not.
I like to experiment in the kitchen a lot. It's only food. Who cares if the potatoes are a little overdone or if the dish is a wee bit too spicy. Too much garlic? No such thing. Well, there *used* to be no such thing. Now I know better (thanks, worst hummus ever!).
Sometimes when I attempt a new dish, I start to fancy myself the second coming of Julia Child, but in my case, I don't need no stinking school to master cooking. Pshaw. It's my God-given talent, or so I think. It's usually in these moments, these manic episodes of quasi-foodie pretense, that I commit my most spectacular failures. Usually those failures occur in the form of burnt consumables, but they often happen with completely unbalanced flavors that render the dish inedible by anybody but my husband Sean, who will eat pretty much anything.
Which brings me to my point. Sean just had surgery on his face, and it hurts him to chew, so he's on a soft foods diet, nothing too spicy. I decided to try making chicken noodle soup. It's not rocket science, but given my tendencies for massive kitchen cock-ups, I'd rather just go the Campbell's route, dig? But I'm off work today, and I've got nothing better to do but watch Grey's Anatomy DVD's and play World of Warcraft, so why not.
I couldn't find a recipe I like online, so here's what I'm going to try.
1 chicken, cut into parts (or go lazy and get country style), giblets set to the side
1 cup diced onion
1/2 cup diced celery, plus 2 stalks roughly chopped
1/2 cup diced carrots, plus 2 carrots roughly chopped
A few cloves of garlic, 3 or 4 smushed, 1 or 2 diced
1 shallot, diced
A couple tablespoons of bouquet garni
Cajun seasoning to taste (but on the light side if you're making this for somebody whose face has been recently sliced open)
2 bay leaves (whose purpose I haven't quite figured out, but I've got them, so why not?)
1 tsp marjoram
1 tsp tarragon
Egg noodles (the quantity? I've got no freakin' clue)
Olive oil
Butter (once again, no idea how much)
Flour (same untold amount as butter)
Black pepper to taste
So here's what I've done so far.
1. Take your chicken and roast it in pieces. Rub it down with olive oil, a tablespoon or so of the cajun seasoning, and a tablespoon or so of bouquet garni. Cook it at 400 degrees for about an hour or until the chicken is quite well done.
2. Take your giblets (and mine included a bonus breastbone! YAY!) and stick em in a big pot with two quarts of water, some cajun seasoning, marjoram, a bay leaf, tarragon, and your roughly chopped celery and carrots, and the four smashed cloves of garlic. Stick it on medium for, I dunno, an hour?
And here's what I'm planning on doing.
3. Once the chicken is done, take it out of the oven and let it cool down. Feel free to snack on the wings because there isn't a lot of meat on them anyway. Also, you don't really need the legs, so eat them (or set them aside). Chop up the breasts and thighs and set them aside. Oh and save the juices from the pan. That's good stuff.
4. Drain the liquid from the pot o guts and set it aside. If you happen to know any nasty people, let them eat the giblets (ugh). Otherwise, discard the stuff that you just lovingly boiled.
5. Wipe out the pot that you used for the make-shift stock. Go get, oh, I don't know, three tablespoons of butter? That sounds good. Melt three tablespoons of butter and add your onions, celery, carrots, diced garlic and shallots. Cook em until they're softened, I don't know, maybe 10 minutes?
6. Once the onions are kind of clear (and ideally before the garlic burns), throw in three tablespoons of flour and create a roux. Once it reaches a color you find pleasing and the room starts smelling nutty, stir in the makeshift stock and chicken drippings. Add the chicken.
7. Now, here's where I have no idea what's going to happen. Maybe two cups of noodles? I think I'll make sure that the veggies are fully cooked before adding the noodles since I don't want to overcook those. Overcooked veggies > overcooked noodles.
8. Taste frequently and adjust spices accordingly. Oh yeah, go ahead and add another bay leaf. Maybe some parsley. That would be pretty good. Keep extra stock on hand in case your stuff boils down too hard.
9. I'm assuming that once the noodles are done, so is the soup? Well I guess we'll see, shall we?
I think I'm about to move on to step 3 once I get motivated. I'm comfy, and this shit isn't going to burn anyway.
Just checked on the patient (my husband, not the chicken), and he was sleeping blissfully. Now it appears that he's smelled food and is going to move in its general direction. If it were me, the only movement I'd make right now would be towards the bottle of vicodin.
Ok, that's it. I hope it doesn't suck. It's probably going to make a shitload of soup, and that's ok with me if it's good. So long as I can get the noodles and veggies cooked right, I sincerely doubt this is going to fail. In fact, it might be one of my most triumphant experiments ever.
Sometimes when I attempt a new dish, I start to fancy myself the second coming of Julia Child, but in my case, I don't need no stinking school to master cooking. Pshaw. It's my God-given talent, or so I think. It's usually in these moments, these manic episodes of quasi-foodie pretense, that I commit my most spectacular failures. Usually those failures occur in the form of burnt consumables, but they often happen with completely unbalanced flavors that render the dish inedible by anybody but my husband Sean, who will eat pretty much anything.
Which brings me to my point. Sean just had surgery on his face, and it hurts him to chew, so he's on a soft foods diet, nothing too spicy. I decided to try making chicken noodle soup. It's not rocket science, but given my tendencies for massive kitchen cock-ups, I'd rather just go the Campbell's route, dig? But I'm off work today, and I've got nothing better to do but watch Grey's Anatomy DVD's and play World of Warcraft, so why not.
I couldn't find a recipe I like online, so here's what I'm going to try.
1 chicken, cut into parts (or go lazy and get country style), giblets set to the side
1 cup diced onion
1/2 cup diced celery, plus 2 stalks roughly chopped
1/2 cup diced carrots, plus 2 carrots roughly chopped
A few cloves of garlic, 3 or 4 smushed, 1 or 2 diced
1 shallot, diced
A couple tablespoons of bouquet garni
Cajun seasoning to taste (but on the light side if you're making this for somebody whose face has been recently sliced open)
2 bay leaves (whose purpose I haven't quite figured out, but I've got them, so why not?)
1 tsp marjoram
1 tsp tarragon
Egg noodles (the quantity? I've got no freakin' clue)
Olive oil
Butter (once again, no idea how much)
Flour (same untold amount as butter)
Black pepper to taste
So here's what I've done so far.
1. Take your chicken and roast it in pieces. Rub it down with olive oil, a tablespoon or so of the cajun seasoning, and a tablespoon or so of bouquet garni. Cook it at 400 degrees for about an hour or until the chicken is quite well done.
2. Take your giblets (and mine included a bonus breastbone! YAY!) and stick em in a big pot with two quarts of water, some cajun seasoning, marjoram, a bay leaf, tarragon, and your roughly chopped celery and carrots, and the four smashed cloves of garlic. Stick it on medium for, I dunno, an hour?
And here's what I'm planning on doing.
3. Once the chicken is done, take it out of the oven and let it cool down. Feel free to snack on the wings because there isn't a lot of meat on them anyway. Also, you don't really need the legs, so eat them (or set them aside). Chop up the breasts and thighs and set them aside. Oh and save the juices from the pan. That's good stuff.
4. Drain the liquid from the pot o guts and set it aside. If you happen to know any nasty people, let them eat the giblets (ugh). Otherwise, discard the stuff that you just lovingly boiled.
5. Wipe out the pot that you used for the make-shift stock. Go get, oh, I don't know, three tablespoons of butter? That sounds good. Melt three tablespoons of butter and add your onions, celery, carrots, diced garlic and shallots. Cook em until they're softened, I don't know, maybe 10 minutes?
6. Once the onions are kind of clear (and ideally before the garlic burns), throw in three tablespoons of flour and create a roux. Once it reaches a color you find pleasing and the room starts smelling nutty, stir in the makeshift stock and chicken drippings. Add the chicken.
7. Now, here's where I have no idea what's going to happen. Maybe two cups of noodles? I think I'll make sure that the veggies are fully cooked before adding the noodles since I don't want to overcook those. Overcooked veggies > overcooked noodles.
8. Taste frequently and adjust spices accordingly. Oh yeah, go ahead and add another bay leaf. Maybe some parsley. That would be pretty good. Keep extra stock on hand in case your stuff boils down too hard.
9. I'm assuming that once the noodles are done, so is the soup? Well I guess we'll see, shall we?
I think I'm about to move on to step 3 once I get motivated. I'm comfy, and this shit isn't going to burn anyway.
Just checked on the patient (my husband, not the chicken), and he was sleeping blissfully. Now it appears that he's smelled food and is going to move in its general direction. If it were me, the only movement I'd make right now would be towards the bottle of vicodin.
Ok, that's it. I hope it doesn't suck. It's probably going to make a shitload of soup, and that's ok with me if it's good. So long as I can get the noodles and veggies cooked right, I sincerely doubt this is going to fail. In fact, it might be one of my most triumphant experiments ever.
Saturday, October 16, 2010
White Hot Guilt
Caramelization, in my personal experience, is a fickle whore.
Oh sure, with somebody who actually pays attention when she is cooking, I'm sure it's slightly more consistent. But who does that? That World of Warcraft doesn't play itself!
I'm in the process of making chili for tomorrow's non-competitive chili "cook-off" at my favorite den of sin, the Sports Page. I've made essentially the same recipe for about eight years now, making minor tweaks where prudent. For example, I've eliminated habeneros completely; it's just better for everybody involved.
I call my chili "White Hot Guilt". A few years ago, I cherished an ambition to compete at the local (COMPETITIVE)chili cook-off in Westport Plaza. Instead of actually registering, which costs a whopping forty American dollars, I named my shit and had a friend of mine, who is a genius at graphic design, create a logo. It was a sexy logo, too. A voluptuous nun dressed in a, erm, modified habit. Honestly, it was suitable to be cover art for a Lords of Acid album. Alas, five years later, here I sit, with my bitchin, slightly blasphemous logo and pretentious chili name, looking wistfully east every September while other people win my prizes because my fucking chili is BETTER THAN ALL OF YOU PEOPLE, HONESTLY WHERE DID YOU GET YOUR RECIPE, IT SUCKS AND YOU SHOULD BE DESTROYED.
So yeah, I call my chili "White Hot Guilt". While not technically a white chili, I use white meat instead of beef, and I use only green peppers. I took to roasting half of the vegetables a few months ago because it broadens the flavor spectrum (ugh, listen at me) due to the caramelization. Well, today, since I left my shit in the oven for, oh, 45 minutes longer than it needed, everything was burnt. My garlic cloves--EIGHT OF THEM--looked like tiny pieces of coal, my shallots were destroyed, the peppers, you could really only tell they were peppers because of their vaguely triangular shape. All told, today I wasted:
2 poblanos (ugh, the anguish)
2 jalepenos
1 serrano
1 anaheim
8 cloves of garlic
2 shallots
1/2 sweet yellow onion
3 tbsp extra virgin olive oil
1 tsp kosher salt
And that's just so far! The chili has only been going for about an hour! Who knows what I'm going to fuck up next.
Good thing I got spares. The replacement roast has already been removed from the oven, probably not at optimal doneness, but I'm not taking any chances.
So--here's my recipe for tonight's batch. If I don't screw the dog with regards to anything else, it should be pretty good. If only they were giving prizes.
2.5 lbs pork loin, just get the cheapest, but least fatty, meat you can find.
1...ok, 1/2 large sweet yellow onion
4 poblano peppers
4 jalepenos (edit, reduce to 2)
1 anaheim
2 serranos (edit, reduce to 1, see, it's always a work in progress)
1 head of garlic
4 shallots
3+ tablespoons of cumin (since I'm still in the process of cooking, I don't know how much I'm going to wind up using, probably around 5)
1 tablespoon of ground white pepper (which, in retrospect, was overkill)
2+ tablespoons of Jamaican Jerk, Walkerswood is the best
1 tablespoonish of kosher salt, but be sure to taste a lot, there is no coming back from too salty
Brown sugar as needed, if you overdid it on the peppers, for instance
1+ tablespoon of allspice.
Wait, allow me to stop here for a moment. I'm not actually sure what I'm using is allspice. The jar just reads "Mixed Spices". I picked it up in an Arabic grocery store in St. Ann, and while the lady told me it was allspice, she might have just meant that it has allspice in it. It was her recommendation, I've never cooked with allspice before now. So it could be allspice, it could be the ground remains of Yasir Arafat, sold to gullible infidels who fancy themselves chefs. Who knows. Whatever it is, though, it makes a big difference in my chili. It's pretty damn delicious.
Anyway!
1 jar salsa verde, the Herdez stuff is the best, but anything will do
2-4 12 oz. bottles of Sam Adams Boston Lager.
Ok, another digression. I've tried probably 20 different beers in this chili, and while pretty much anything will do, I've found beers with a slight bitterness to be the best. You'll want to stay away from IPA's and fruit beers, I think my dumb ass did use Pete's Strawberry Blonde once thinking that the strawberry flavor might mellow-out some of the heat from the habanero, yeah, I wasn't bright in my 20's. But yeah, Boston Lager is the best I've tried so far.
3 cans great northern beans, drained
1 can black beans, drained and rinsed
Beans, of course, are optional, but I've found that I tend to go overboard on peppers, and they're a nice mitigating agent.
So! Here's what you do.
1. 45 minutes before you plan to start making chili in earnest, set your oven to 400 degrees. Take half of the veggies you plan on using, chop them into manageable pieces, stick em on a foil-lined baking sheet, drizzle on olive oil and throw it in the oven. SET YOUR TIMER FOR 45 MINUTES. Then, go play World of Warcraft and catch up on the Medium episodes you have saved on your TiVo. When you feel like it, go ahead and chop up the other half of your veggies to manageable sized pieces and put them in the food processor until they're homogeneous in size. You'll know it's done when all your stuff looks like a frothy, green pulp. Dump it in a colander and add some kosher salt to facilitate draining.
2. Once the timer goes off, remove your stuff from the oven promptly. Don't just turn the oven off and leave them in there like I did. You know, an oven is still hot, even after you turn it off.
3. Chop your pork! It's easier if you freeze it for a few hours before. And if you find boneless pork chops cheap, that's just the best, it's like chili nirvana.
4. Go ahead and start up your chili pot. Dump about 3 tablespoons of olive oil in the pan, and start it at medium high. Put your pork in the pot, and if you're lucky, you'll get a good browning on the meat(Maillard reaction, for the win!). Alas, mine didn't this time, but it's ok.
5. Once all the pork has turned white, dump in your (formerly) frothy pulp. Stir it so that it coats the pork, and crank the heat up to high. Walk away and watch TV, and only remember to stir your shit again when your husband tells you that your chili is macing him. I usually let it cook like this for about 10 minutes, and add oil as you see fit.
6. BEER TIME. Add two of your beers. Then, stir in 3 tablespoons of cumin, one tablespoon of "mixed spices", a teaspoon of kosher salt, two tablespoons of jerk, half of the salsa verde, and the white pepper (but upon further thinking, you could really reduce that white pepper to a teaspoon if that, this stuff is going to kill people with all the peppers in it already). Stir it whenever you think about it. Oh yeah, and reduce the heat to mediumish.
7. Crack a beer for yourself. You've earned it! Start another shitty and self-indulgent blog. Everybody wants to hear your thoughts! Forget about the very chili that is the subject of your first post. Oh shit, I need to check the chili!
8. By now your meat should be done enough for you to try some. Add some more spices, you'll need more cumin for sure, and probably some more salt.
9. Text your friend and find out what you're doing after this fucking chili is done. Go to the bar? Yippee!
10. Your chili might be a leeeetle too spicy, but that's ok, because now we're going to add the beans. Please, don't use dried beans and let me tell you why. Yeah, sure, purists be all like, "No preservatives, it's so much better for you, all natural, bleah bleah bleah", but when one is cooking with beer, for some reason, the beer just does not want to penetrate the beans! Last week, I tried using dried beans (mostly out of laziness, I didn't feel like carrying cans because they're heavy) and after four goddamn hours, the beans were merely al dente. That was unacceptable. The chili was really good, in fact, the spices were probably more perfect than ever, but chili is not supposed to be crunchy. Anyway! You can rinse the great northern beans, you really don't need to, but you can. Always rinse the black beans, though, because you don't want that nasty black crap in the can to wind up in your chili. It will just make your chili look gross. I added another beer at this step, too.
The major downfall with canned beans, though, is that if you let them cook for too long, they'll start to kind of explode. While this isn't bad for chili texture--it helps with thickening--well, you're using beans, not bean dip. Letting all of them explode would defeat the purpose. So, you only want to spend at most 20 minutes at this stage.
I actually just got done with the beans myself. I tried a piece of pork, and it was, frankly, capital A Awesome. A wee bit spicy, but I don't make chili for pussies!
Wow, that was really long. Thanks for sticking with me. Honestly, not to sound conceited or anything, this batch will probably be the best I've made, and that's saying a lot because I've made some good damn chili. If you pay attention to caramelization, caramelization will pay attention to you.
Now, I am off to the bar for to reward myself with a few beers!
Oh sure, with somebody who actually pays attention when she is cooking, I'm sure it's slightly more consistent. But who does that? That World of Warcraft doesn't play itself!
I'm in the process of making chili for tomorrow's non-competitive chili "cook-off" at my favorite den of sin, the Sports Page. I've made essentially the same recipe for about eight years now, making minor tweaks where prudent. For example, I've eliminated habeneros completely; it's just better for everybody involved.
I call my chili "White Hot Guilt". A few years ago, I cherished an ambition to compete at the local (COMPETITIVE)chili cook-off in Westport Plaza. Instead of actually registering, which costs a whopping forty American dollars, I named my shit and had a friend of mine, who is a genius at graphic design, create a logo. It was a sexy logo, too. A voluptuous nun dressed in a, erm, modified habit. Honestly, it was suitable to be cover art for a Lords of Acid album. Alas, five years later, here I sit, with my bitchin, slightly blasphemous logo and pretentious chili name, looking wistfully east every September while other people win my prizes because my fucking chili is BETTER THAN ALL OF YOU PEOPLE, HONESTLY WHERE DID YOU GET YOUR RECIPE, IT SUCKS AND YOU SHOULD BE DESTROYED.
So yeah, I call my chili "White Hot Guilt". While not technically a white chili, I use white meat instead of beef, and I use only green peppers. I took to roasting half of the vegetables a few months ago because it broadens the flavor spectrum (ugh, listen at me) due to the caramelization. Well, today, since I left my shit in the oven for, oh, 45 minutes longer than it needed, everything was burnt. My garlic cloves--EIGHT OF THEM--looked like tiny pieces of coal, my shallots were destroyed, the peppers, you could really only tell they were peppers because of their vaguely triangular shape. All told, today I wasted:
2 poblanos (ugh, the anguish)
2 jalepenos
1 serrano
1 anaheim
8 cloves of garlic
2 shallots
1/2 sweet yellow onion
3 tbsp extra virgin olive oil
1 tsp kosher salt
And that's just so far! The chili has only been going for about an hour! Who knows what I'm going to fuck up next.
Good thing I got spares. The replacement roast has already been removed from the oven, probably not at optimal doneness, but I'm not taking any chances.
So--here's my recipe for tonight's batch. If I don't screw the dog with regards to anything else, it should be pretty good. If only they were giving prizes.
2.5 lbs pork loin, just get the cheapest, but least fatty, meat you can find.
1...ok, 1/2 large sweet yellow onion
4 poblano peppers
4 jalepenos (edit, reduce to 2)
1 anaheim
2 serranos (edit, reduce to 1, see, it's always a work in progress)
1 head of garlic
4 shallots
3+ tablespoons of cumin (since I'm still in the process of cooking, I don't know how much I'm going to wind up using, probably around 5)
1 tablespoon of ground white pepper (which, in retrospect, was overkill)
2+ tablespoons of Jamaican Jerk, Walkerswood is the best
1 tablespoonish of kosher salt, but be sure to taste a lot, there is no coming back from too salty
Brown sugar as needed, if you overdid it on the peppers, for instance
1+ tablespoon of allspice.
Wait, allow me to stop here for a moment. I'm not actually sure what I'm using is allspice. The jar just reads "Mixed Spices". I picked it up in an Arabic grocery store in St. Ann, and while the lady told me it was allspice, she might have just meant that it has allspice in it. It was her recommendation, I've never cooked with allspice before now. So it could be allspice, it could be the ground remains of Yasir Arafat, sold to gullible infidels who fancy themselves chefs. Who knows. Whatever it is, though, it makes a big difference in my chili. It's pretty damn delicious.
Anyway!
1 jar salsa verde, the Herdez stuff is the best, but anything will do
2-4 12 oz. bottles of Sam Adams Boston Lager.
Ok, another digression. I've tried probably 20 different beers in this chili, and while pretty much anything will do, I've found beers with a slight bitterness to be the best. You'll want to stay away from IPA's and fruit beers, I think my dumb ass did use Pete's Strawberry Blonde once thinking that the strawberry flavor might mellow-out some of the heat from the habanero, yeah, I wasn't bright in my 20's. But yeah, Boston Lager is the best I've tried so far.
3 cans great northern beans, drained
1 can black beans, drained and rinsed
Beans, of course, are optional, but I've found that I tend to go overboard on peppers, and they're a nice mitigating agent.
So! Here's what you do.
1. 45 minutes before you plan to start making chili in earnest, set your oven to 400 degrees. Take half of the veggies you plan on using, chop them into manageable pieces, stick em on a foil-lined baking sheet, drizzle on olive oil and throw it in the oven. SET YOUR TIMER FOR 45 MINUTES. Then, go play World of Warcraft and catch up on the Medium episodes you have saved on your TiVo. When you feel like it, go ahead and chop up the other half of your veggies to manageable sized pieces and put them in the food processor until they're homogeneous in size. You'll know it's done when all your stuff looks like a frothy, green pulp. Dump it in a colander and add some kosher salt to facilitate draining.
2. Once the timer goes off, remove your stuff from the oven promptly. Don't just turn the oven off and leave them in there like I did. You know, an oven is still hot, even after you turn it off.
3. Chop your pork! It's easier if you freeze it for a few hours before. And if you find boneless pork chops cheap, that's just the best, it's like chili nirvana.
4. Go ahead and start up your chili pot. Dump about 3 tablespoons of olive oil in the pan, and start it at medium high. Put your pork in the pot, and if you're lucky, you'll get a good browning on the meat(Maillard reaction, for the win!). Alas, mine didn't this time, but it's ok.
5. Once all the pork has turned white, dump in your (formerly) frothy pulp. Stir it so that it coats the pork, and crank the heat up to high. Walk away and watch TV, and only remember to stir your shit again when your husband tells you that your chili is macing him. I usually let it cook like this for about 10 minutes, and add oil as you see fit.
6. BEER TIME. Add two of your beers. Then, stir in 3 tablespoons of cumin, one tablespoon of "mixed spices", a teaspoon of kosher salt, two tablespoons of jerk, half of the salsa verde, and the white pepper (but upon further thinking, you could really reduce that white pepper to a teaspoon if that, this stuff is going to kill people with all the peppers in it already). Stir it whenever you think about it. Oh yeah, and reduce the heat to mediumish.
7. Crack a beer for yourself. You've earned it! Start another shitty and self-indulgent blog. Everybody wants to hear your thoughts! Forget about the very chili that is the subject of your first post. Oh shit, I need to check the chili!
8. By now your meat should be done enough for you to try some. Add some more spices, you'll need more cumin for sure, and probably some more salt.
9. Text your friend and find out what you're doing after this fucking chili is done. Go to the bar? Yippee!
10. Your chili might be a leeeetle too spicy, but that's ok, because now we're going to add the beans. Please, don't use dried beans and let me tell you why. Yeah, sure, purists be all like, "No preservatives, it's so much better for you, all natural, bleah bleah bleah", but when one is cooking with beer, for some reason, the beer just does not want to penetrate the beans! Last week, I tried using dried beans (mostly out of laziness, I didn't feel like carrying cans because they're heavy) and after four goddamn hours, the beans were merely al dente. That was unacceptable. The chili was really good, in fact, the spices were probably more perfect than ever, but chili is not supposed to be crunchy. Anyway! You can rinse the great northern beans, you really don't need to, but you can. Always rinse the black beans, though, because you don't want that nasty black crap in the can to wind up in your chili. It will just make your chili look gross. I added another beer at this step, too.
The major downfall with canned beans, though, is that if you let them cook for too long, they'll start to kind of explode. While this isn't bad for chili texture--it helps with thickening--well, you're using beans, not bean dip. Letting all of them explode would defeat the purpose. So, you only want to spend at most 20 minutes at this stage.
I actually just got done with the beans myself. I tried a piece of pork, and it was, frankly, capital A Awesome. A wee bit spicy, but I don't make chili for pussies!
Wow, that was really long. Thanks for sticking with me. Honestly, not to sound conceited or anything, this batch will probably be the best I've made, and that's saying a lot because I've made some good damn chili. If you pay attention to caramelization, caramelization will pay attention to you.
Now, I am off to the bar for to reward myself with a few beers!
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