Cleaving - Not the sharpest knife in the drawer

I should have suspected that Cleaving: A Story of Marriage, Meat, and Obsession, Julie Powell's second book, was a stinker when I put my request in at the library and it appeared in my pick-up list almost immediately.

I enjoyed Julie & Julia, the book, when I originally read it, but when I tried to re-read it prior to the movie release, I just couldn't get into it again. I am probably not the only one who sat through the movie wishing the movie was just Meryl Streep channeling Julia Child in a full picture based on My Life in France (Illustrated Edition)[Rough-Cut Edge] by Julia Child.

Casting Amy Adams probably made perfect sense in the context of the movie, but if you've seen Julie Powell doing any TV interviews, you'll probably agree with me that Rosie O'Donell might have been a more apt choice.

Which is why it's even harder to get into Cleaving, which is as much about Julie Powell's constant cheating on her husband, as it is about her new found obsession with learning to butcher.  I don't really object to the adultery so much on a moral level, as I do with her descriptions which range from boring and self absorbed, to just kind of icky. 

I found the descriptions of bits of gristle and blood clinging to her after a day at the butcher shop more palatable than her descriptions of her affair. 

I only made it to chapter 6, about a third of a way through, before I determined that was enough.  It's kind of like taking a few more bites of the sandwich before determining, yes, I didn't imagine that smell, this is putrid.

Glancing at the reviews on Amazon, it looks like I am not alone in my take on this book.  If you are dying to check it out, I'll be dropping mine back at the library tomorrow.  Or give it six months for it to hit the bargain tables for less than a magazine. 

Merry Christmas!

I woke up pre-dawn this Christmas morning, not because I was eager to see what Santa brought, but because despite what I thought was a light workout at the gym yesterday, what I really wanted Santa to leave was some Advil and coffee.  (It's kind of funny how as you age, the true aches from exercise visit you in the night like the ghosts of Christmas past).

Fortified with pain relievers and caffeine, thoughts of breakfast danced in my head.  A quick tour of the refrigerator produced eggs, Gruyere, an open bottle of roasted red peppers, a bunch of rapini, a hunk of ham purchased for ham salad, and some grapefruits. Miraculously, the leftover chunk of Challah was stale, but not moldy, so a strata was born.

I doused the sliced grapefruit with a little of the Finger Lakes Distilling Maplejack, then made a crumb topping with a few tablespoons of Plugra butter and Wondra flour, then finished with a pinch of Tangerine finishing salt, then broiled.

I opened a bottle of Red Tail Ridge Dry Rose last night with dinner, and it seemed like a good excuse to drink at 8:30 am, so I had a glass with breakfast.

While breakfast was baking, I prepped a riff on my Grandma's Christmas Broiled Ham Salad.  As a child, I spent Christmas afternoons at my paternal grandparents and we had the classic (dry as a bone) turkey dinner with the trimmings, then later in the evening we went to my maternal grandmothers.

Since it was later, and definitely more casual, broiled ham salad was what we had when hunger struck again.  Basically ground ham, a little mustard, sweet onion, sweet pickle relish, enough Miracle Whip to hold it together, and a bag of shredded cheddar, mounded onto Kaiser roll halves, then broiled til melted and bubbly.

My riff on the recipe - I used chopped Tony Packo's Sweet Hots instead of relish, mayo, only because I don't have any Miracle Whip on hand, and Adams Reserve New York Cheddar, because I still have some of my winnings in the frig.  (And hey - check out their site - I am on there grinning with my winnings and Robin Swoboda, plus the cheese ball recipe is there).

There's no real recipe, or measurements, much to my anal, measuring carefully sister's dismay, just chop some ham in the food processor, throw in some chopped onion, relish (or chopped sweet hots), squirt in some mustard and mayo (or Miracle Whip), and mix until you get a consistency that holds together slightly.  Then add grated cheese.  Mound on your roll halves and broil until the cheese is melted and bubbly (and the smoke alarm goes off, but preferably before). 

So, I fear I need a little more Advil, and maybe a soak in the jetted tub, but I will be definitely well fed this Christmas, and hope you will be too.

12 Days of Cookbooks: The Joy of Pickling

I certainly rediscovered the joy of pickling this summer, thanks to Linda Ziedrich's The Joy of Pickling, Revised Edition: 250 Flavor-Packed Flavor-Packed Recipes for Vegetables and More from Garden or Market.

I made bread and butter pickles, dill pickles, dilly beans, pickled figs, corn relish and pickled grapes. 

I made this delicious sweet tomato chutney.  I went through gallons of vinegar and many pounds of sugar.  And I smile every time I open one of those jars, or receive compliments from those lucky enough to receive them as gifts.

Whether you are a veteran preserver, or new to the art, The Joy of Pickling can help guide you along.  A nice primer on the how to do,  safely starts the book, with sections of recipes divided into type of pickles.

There is a section on quick pickles, and I am eyeing the Pickled Fennel with Orange (pg 174) and the Pink Pickled Shallots (pg 292).

I am also pretty crazy about the section on chutneys and ketchups.  Sure, I like a puddle of Heinz when I succumb to my occasional cravings for Tater Tots, but homemade ketchup rocks.   (I made cranberry ketchup once which rocked on sandwiches).

The companion volume The Joy of Jams, Jellies, and Other Sweet Preserves: 200 Classic and Contemporary Recipes Showcasing the Fabulous Flavors of Fresh Fruitswould also make a great gift.

Sour, Spicy, Salty, or sweet - discover the Joy of Pickling!

12 Days of Cookbooks: Food Matters - Mark Bittman

 


There are many, many books out now on food ethics, eating locally, etc., etc., etc.

Michael Pollan's an Omnivorne's Dilemma is notable, but some of the densest, hard to get through writing I have ever encountered.  It sits, half read, on my nightstand.  Even when I was bedridden in the hospital, I couldn't get through it.  His In Defense of Food: An Eater's Manifesto, is a much more digestible, pardon the pun, version.

When Mark Bittman's Food Matters: A Guide to Conscious Eating was released earlier this year, I thought, swell, another book preaching to the choir on reduced meat consumption, and thinking before you graze.  I like Bittman,  and I treasure my copy of How to Cook Everything, which comes in handy, when I'm stumped, usually by something simple.  But until I saw some of his Today Show appearances, talking about the book, I was a little skeptical that the world needed another version of this story.  The fact that he dropped 35 pounds following his own advice got my attention as well.

His no nonsense approach includes a common sense, non-preachy review of how 'Big Food' got where it is, moves to his version of 'how to eat', which is essentially cutting back on meat and processed foods, and about half the book provides recipes.

I think a lot of Bittman's appeal is his totally flexible approach to cooking.  He encourages making the recipes with whatever ingredients you happen to have on hand.  His lists of 101 ideas on New York Times make me wonder if he is gripped by some demon every once in awhile that forces him to get them down on paper as quickly as possible. 

No photos, so if you are looking for a pretty book, this isn't it.  But if you are looking at starting on those New Year's resolutions, this one has a nicely laid out plan to change your shopping habits, your pantry, and your diet, to benefit not only your health, but good old Mother Earth's as well.

Apple-Gruyere French Toast with Red Onion

I am not a big sweet for breakfast fan, so this savory Apple-Gruyere French Toast with Red Onion recipe in the New York Times caught my eye.   And despite last night's Paella feast, I was able to work up an appetite mostly by disassembling the stove top and cleaning up the mess I made making the paella.

Pretty simple - some thick slices of challah (I got mine at Theresa's Bakery at the West Side Market for $4), thinly sliced red onion, grated gruyere (from the Cheese Shop at the Market),  an apple and a couple of eggsfrom the farmers market, and I used half and half vs. the whole milk called for.

You stuff a pocket with the onion and cheese, heat some oil and put half the apple slices in, then put the bread on top with the rest of the apples, cover and cook about 5 minutes, carefully (it's tricky to get the apples to stay in place), and finish for 3-5 minutes.  Enough time to fry a couple of eggs to put on top.  (not pictured because I tend to flip my eggs and they don't always land picture perfectly)

Delicious!

Paella!

• 
  
  
• I was gifted a beautiful 18" paella pan, brought back from Spain, by my contractor.  I hadn't broken it in yet.  Until last night.  I seriously don't know why I ended up with so much protein; the rice alone would have been fine.  For the record, I had 2 pounds of chicken thighs, a package of chorizo from the farmers market, 4 huge scallops, and a pound of large pink Florida shrimp.

See how pretty and shiny that pan was?  Trust me, it doesn't look that now.

I used a hybrid of recipes, but primarily was following the one from Fine Cooking.com.  I fired up two burners to around medium-high as instructed.  Because the pan is thin, it gets hot FAST.  So when I put in about 1/4 c. of olive oil, that baby started spitting and smoking, and the smoke detector started chirping.

I quickly adjusted the heat, threw open the window, cranked the exhaust fan to a deafening max, then started tossing proteins to be browned.  First, the chicken, then the chorizo, then the seafood.

Silly me, at this point is thinking I will probably finish in the oven, so I didn't want to overcook, so I pulled them, and moved onto to the rice.  (Silly because I didn't check to see if the pan would actually fit in the oven until later; it doesn't)

At this point it's going pretty well.  The smoke has cleared to a light fog.  I made a soffrito by grating an onion, a Kumato (another story by itself), and threw in some sliced garlic. I stir fried the rice a few minutes before adding saffron flavored broth, tossed in some fresh green beans, wrestled with opening a jar of roasted peppers (when did my ability to open jars disappear?). The proteins were all nestled back in while I rotated 1/4 turn every few minutes and waited for the magic to happen.

At this point it was definitely time to open the bottle of wine I picked up at West Point Market - a delicious Garnacha - Atteca Old Vines (2008). After awhile I tested the rice when the broth seemed to be absorbed and it was still underdone, so I added more stock, rotated some more, then covered with foil for a bit. It seemed like the rice was getting there, but a temp check on the chicken and chorizo revealed they weren't, so I pulled them out and stuck them in the oven.  Then I was afraid that the seafood would overcook, so I pulled it and covered with foil.

Sipping, waiting.  I cooked a shrimp specifically for my oldest kitty, Jake, who waited patiently outside the kitchen, whining, until I cut it up and gave it to him.  (As a little kitten, a guest gave him shrimp at holiday party - he has had conniption fits when he smells shrimp ever since). Finally I start to hear the rice crackling, signally the socarrat, or caramelized crust, was forming.

Good stuff!  The chicken and sausage still weren't quite done, so I had a seafood only version.

So obviously, a few lessons learned.  The pan would fit nicely over the firepit, so I may try an outdoor version next summer.

Thankfully it's delicious - because I will be eating it for days.

And for a light dessert,  these olive oil tortas, imported from Seville, Spain, are divine.  Light and crispy, they come in several flavors, including my current favorite, Seville Orange.  They are currently on sale at Mustard Seed Market - they are across from the chips in the aisle with the water filler.  Thanks to my friend Laura for turning me on to these.

 

12 Days of Cookbooks: Charcuterie

Charcuterie: The Craft of Salting, Smoking, and Curing is next on my list for 12 days of cookbooks.  I've had the book for a few years, and I really wanted to make my own pancetta, and this year I finally got around to it.  And it rocks! (Michael Ruhlman was kind enough to sign my copy at the event with Thomas Keller)  This one would make a good gift for the guys.

I think there have been enough tainted food scares to create a healthy respect/hesitation for hanging curing meat at home, (I know I had to get over it), but the reality is, that an organic product, treated properly, and handled with sanitation in mind, IS probably safer than a lot of the so called food sold in supermarkets.

One of the items needed for curing, the so called 'pink salt' (because it is dyed pink), I ordered as Ruhlman recommends, from Butcher Packer,  and was stunned at how fast they filled the order and shipped it. 

I think my order also got me on a mailing list for a catalog for sausage making,  that had me momentarily dreaming of buying industrial size smokers, and all kinds of crazy supplies, and maybe permanently smelling like garlic.

My memories of the delicious pork products from The Piggery, in New York, which offers a charcuterie CSA, also inspired me to get the book back out and get to work.  Seriously, imagine a CSA that provides 3-4 weeks of pork belly confit!  (I am working on Jeff Brunty to expand from chickens into pigs, but he hasn't totally come around to my way of thinking yet.  I'll keep on him). 

Now that I have a place to store the Kitchen-Aid mixer, it might be time to get the meat grinder attachment and move on to sausage making.  In the meantime, I am savoring every last bite of that pancetta, and looking forward to making another batch as soon as it's gone.  All hail the pig, indeed!