Hand-Ground Meat: A Lesson in Economy—and Deliciousness

Years ago my mother gave me a meat grinder that she found at an auction. I'm not talking a mixer attachment-kind of meat grinder. I'm talking an OLD-school meat grinder. The kind that clamps onto a table and you crank chunks of meat through it with a big, long handle.

Here...this is it:

So, for years that grinder has sat in my cabinet. Like, in the back of the cabinet. I completely forgot it existed.

And then the other night,  as I stared at Bon Appetit's latest photo of larb in their April 2018 issue, the words suddenly came to my head:

MEAT GRINDER. 

Seriously. They did. Just like that:

MEAT GRINDER.

Maybe it was the texture of the ground pork in the photo that jarred my brain. I mean, it looked so...meaty. It definitely did not have a smashed-meat-paste-dumped-from-a-styrofoam-tray look to it.

Anyway, regardless of how it all happened, the next thing I knew I was telling Chef Reiton that we should just grind our own pork when we make the larb recipe, and he agreed wholeheartedly. I mean, why not? We had that lonely, ill-used (as in not used) grinder just sitting there, waiting...

So, we did. We took our boneless pork chops, cut them up into chunks and put them through our old-fashioned, crank-that-handle grinder.

How's that for an action shot, huh? And look at that texture! Perfectly sized meaty bits of pork that will still have a tender bite when browned to perfection. 

As I was grinding away, I was reflecting on the simple beauty of being able to see the chunks of meat going into the feed chute and knowing exactly what kind of pork I would be eating in my larb. I don't know about you, but whenever I buy ground meat at the store, I have fleeting thoughts that I don't  really having any idea what pig parts went into this ground pork package in my hand... The company isn't required to say. As long as it comes from a pig, it's labeled "pork," so—I'll leave you with that thought. 

And here's the BONUS big deal that I realized as I was grinding that beautiful meat: when you go to buy ground pork the next time you are at the grocery, take a look at the price of boneless pork chops or country-style ribs vs. the ground pork package. Pound per pound, the boneless pork is typically cheaper. And if you are grinding it yourself, you don't need to buy the pretty pork. You want to buy the cheaper, fattier, ugly, boneless cuts. They will make your ground meat more flavorful. Win-win for you and that ugly pork. I can tell you firsthand: the flavor of the larb with our hand-ground pork was PHENOMENAL.

So now I'm thinking of all the other meats I can grind. Cheap-o, skin-on chicken thighs for my little Middle Eastern chicken patties? WAY cheaper than ground chicken mush. And all that deliciously fatty skin that will actually add FLAVOR to the dish? Oh, heck, yeah! 

And how about ground beef for my burgers? Hand me those cheap, nobody-loves-me cuts of beef, baby, and I'll grind them down to a luscious mound of beefy goodness. 

All because of the new love-of-my-kitchen-life: my meat grinder.

Sigh.

[Cue sappy music and fade out]

The Delicate Nasturtium Flower...and How to Eat It (and Other Lovely Blooms)

This...

is a nasturtium flower.

A sweet, delicate specimen, it grows from long and leggy stems, protected by lily pad-like leaves.

Loved by bees but hated by garden pests, I plant them amongst my veggies in my garden boxes in order to deter bugs that will destroy my tomatoes, zucchini and cucumbers.

But I have to admit: I also plant them because I like to EAT THEM.

There is nothing more beautiful on a summer dinner table than the bright splash of flowers on your cool, green salad.

And there is nothing more delicious than the peppery bite of a nasturtium flower crunching between your teeth.

Okay, well, maybe this garlicky, paprika-y, finger-sucking-good chicken we experimented with last night:

Chef Reiton and I intend to experiment further on wings, instead. (We'll get back to you.)

The next flower we intend to devour? These babies:

Squash (or zucchini) blossoms. When I can't take eating one more damn zucchini this summer, I will be plucking these gorgeous blooms then stuffing and frying them in an attempt to mimic one of the jewels of our Besh Restaurant Honeymoon. (This, too, we will keep you informed on.)

Also waiting to be eaten in my garden? Violas.

Time for a crash-course in sugaring flowers for a cake? I think so! (Aaaaaaand, I'll keep you posted on that, too.)

God bless summer, right?!?!? 

Defrosting Your Fridge: Ideas for What to Do with That Food!

Happy belated New Year, all! I can't believe we are well into 2016 already. Where does the time go?

I haven't written a word to you all for over a month! It appears that the holidays were busy and then some! It feels good to be back.  In between all the traveling and company, I've been slowly hashing out my New Year's resolution to create a daily routine (as routine as a pilot's wife can get). Getting back to you all will be part of my writing goal (but I've got some other projects in the works, so I'm going to need you to share).

One of my other New Year's goals is to get better at experimenting in the kitchen.  There are so many foods that I buy at the store that I can make at home (yogurt, ricotta, kombucha, etc.  Notice the fermentation theme, here).  I've just been lazy and haven't taken the time to read up on it and to try it. 

Well, Fate decided to lend a hand and throw us a broken fridge to help me get that ball rolling...

A few weeks ago, Chef Reiton and I noticed that we were getting random pools of water appearing from beneath our fridge.  After a bit of inspection and research, we learned that the little hose in the back of the fridge that allows the defrost water to drain can get clogged, causing the water to leak out onto the floor and into the bottom of the freezer drawer (we wondered where that huge sheet of ice was coming from...). Thanks to Google and those who share their knowledge on home refrigerator repair, we discovered how to solve the problem ourselves instead of having to call our friendly but expensive Whirlpool repairman.  

The down side? We had to defrost the fridge.  

Crap. 

Thankfully, 1) the winter storm that hit Boston on Friday was bigger than was expected, so the 7 inches of snow piled on our back deck could serve nicely as a natural cooler.  2) We tend to shop twice a week for food, so we didn't shop for the second half; the dinners just became compilations of random scavenged foods as we tried to use up what was in the fridge and freezer, just in case repairs didn't go as quickly or smoothly as we wanted.

Well, despite our interesting meal combos, we were still left with:

• a bunch of cheese (we have a good-cheese fetish, admittedly)
• lots of pickled items in jars
• butter
• half-n-half
• a frozen leg of lamb
• a few random vegetables
• some chicken wings and a carcass

The cheese, jars, and lamb leg got stuck out in the snow in a plastic storage tub.  But those veggies and the chicken?

Well, my New Year's resolution of experimenting started halloo-ing from the back of my brain, and so I pulled out a wonderful little book, The Essential Book of Fermentation by Jeff Cox, given to me for my birthday by our dear friends, Joe (now my boss—I'm officially a copy editor!) and Marie.  

What was I going to ferment? That gorgeous purple cabbage that had been sitting all lonely and forlorn in my fridge, that's what.  In five minutes flat, that baby was slivered into shreds and sprinkled with sea salt and caraway seeds:

All I had to do was completely man-handle that pile of shreds for 10 minutes, scrunching and crushing and squeezing and mixing, until I got it to be a juicy, purple, tender mess:

I covered the surface with some plastic wrap, put a plate facedown on top so that all the cabbage was covered up, then I pressed the plate down hard, pushing all the shreds down underneath their own purple juices.  Now the cabbage was ready to ferment, slowly developing into that amazingly health food: sauerkraut.  If you've never had it homemade, you are missing out.  It is entirely different from the sweet, vinegary kind you get at the store.  And homemade fermented sauerkraut contains bacteria GALORE that will make your gut incredibly happy.  Like, really insanely happy.  In fact, a lot of nutritionists say that eating sauerkraut every day does wonders for your body.  Some food for thought...

As for the other vegetables and chicken parts that sat on the counter—you regular readers guessed it...

CHICKEN STOCK.

Chicken wings and a carcass and a bit of leftover roasted chicken got dumped in the Crock-Pot and covered with a quartered onion, old celery, leftover herbs, a hunk of carrot, sliced up shrivel-y ginger root and turmeric root, a wrinkled serrano chile pepper, and the frozen scraps left from making spiralized zucchini noodles.  I filled the pot with water, put it on high until it all came to a boil, then turned it down to low.  That was yesterday afternoon, and she's still going strong.  I topped it off with a bit more water this morning, and I'll probably let it go until tomorrow afternoon.  The more nutrients I can suck out of those bones, the better. And if you could just smell my house right now... Man.

I'm happy to say that the fridge fixing went ridiculously smoothly.  It took me longer to take advantage of the empty fridge and give it a good scrub down than it did for the repair.  Here she stands, all clean and shiny, ready and waiting for that homemade sauerkraut and chicken stock.

The only question is, what do I experiment on making next???

Fall-ing for Scallopini: A Recipe for Chicken with Apple, Fennel & Thyme

I just got back from a visit to PA, right in time for the final "hurrah" of fall splendor.  The leaves on the drive down were just glorious.  My parents were having an Indian summer. The sun was shining almost every day.  The air smelled of dirt and decaying leaves.   It was exactly what I have always remembered autumn to be.

If only the visit were under better circumstances.  I drove down to be with my aunt Annie who had suddenly gotten quite ill.  She is home now, thank God; we are all very grateful.  But for a few days, things were quite scary.

My other aunt, Judy, came over for dinner one of those nights.  We were planning on going to the hospital right after we ate, so I wanted to make something quick and easy.  I decided on scallopini for ease, and in keeping with the beautiful fall weather, I chose to top it with apple, fennel, and thyme.

Aunt Judy loved it, so I decided to post the recipe for her.  This is another meal that you can really do whatever you want. Scallopini is any type of meat (although usually chicken or veal), thinly cut, and then sautéed.  You can top it off with whatever you choose, or just make a pan sauce like I taught you to make a few posts ago.  Or do both! It's all up to you.

Give it a try and let me know what you think.  Or create a different topper and share. We all would love to get some new ideas!

Serves 4

Special tools needed: large skillet, medium skillet, pie plate or cake pan, serving platter, foil

Ingredients: 

• 4 small boneless, skinless chicken breasts, each one sliced crosswise into two 1/4-in. thick pieces (if large, cut them into 3 slices); pound to tenderize between two sheets of plastic wrap, if you have the time
• 1 large apple-y apple that holds its shape when cooked (I used a Fuji), diced into 1/4-in. cubes
• several sprigs worth of fresh thyme leaves
• 1 small fennel/anise bulb, the hard root end cut off and tossed, the white part sliced very thinly (Tip: save the green part to use when you make stock)
• 1/2 cup flour in a pie plate or cake pan (use almond flour to make it gluten-free)
• kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
• 2 Tblsp-ish olive oil
• 2 Tblsp. butter
• 1 Tblsp. butter
• 1/2 cup water or dry white wine

Directions:

1.  Salt and pepper both sides of each piece of chicken.  Turn the oven on to 200° for warming purposes.

2.  In the large skillet, heat the olive oil until it is hot and shimmery.  While it is heating, dump the flour into a pie plate or cake pan and dredge (that just means lightly coat by dragging) the first two chicken pieces (called cutlets) in the flour, making sure that both sides are coated.  Gently shake off any excess flour, then lay the chicken cutlets in the skillet and brown both sides of the meat, about 2 minutes per side.  I always watch for when the chicken becomes opaque halfway up the side; that's when I flip it.

3.  Move the two cooked cutlets to a plate and cover the plate with foil to hold the moisture in; put the plate in the oven to keep warm.  Repeat the process with the rest of the chicken, adding oil to the pan if you need to.

4.  When you are halfway done with the chicken cutlets (or you can do this step after the chicken is done), melt the 2 tablespoons of butter in the medium skillet over medium heat.  Add the apples and fennel, sprinkle on a little salt and pepper, and sauté until both are starting to soften, about 5 minutes.  Add the thyme leaves and continue sautéing until the apples and fennel are golden, about another 5 minutes.

5.  Reheat the large skillet with all the browned bits in the bottom, then add about 1/2 cup of water or dry white wine to the skillet.  Simmer and scrape up all the yummy brown crud on the bottom of the pan, stirring to allow those bits to melt into a sauce.  When the water/wine has evaporated until only half is left, turn the stove off and stir in the tablespoon of butter until it has completely melted and slightly thickened the sauce.

6.  Arrange the chicken cutlets on a platter, pile the apples and fennel on top, then drizzle everything with the pan sauce. Serve!

Feel free to print the recipe by clicking on the image below.  (That is going to be project #2, once I'm done setting up the recipe index: creating printable recipes! If you find something you want a recipe for, let me know, and I'll create one for you.)

Happy November!

Learning to Make Your Own (Gluten-Free!) Stock

After watching the leaves out here on the East Coast go through a wardrobe change that I have never witnessed before (and I cannot believe I am going to be able to witness it year after year), I am officially getting ready to hunker down for winter.  With the flip flops put away, the toasty knee socks pulled up, and the fireplace popping comes the cold weather longings of soups and stews and all things warm and slow.  And that means replenishing the stock stockpile.

No, I just didn't stutter (although I do do that on occasion.  Wait.  No, seriously.  I just didn't do it again to be funny...).  Stock is the incredibly practical and insanely delicious kitchen staple made from—wait for it... SCRAPS.

Mmmmmmm.... Sounds delish, right? Let's take all our nasty peels and bones and pieces of veggie that we just trimmed off because we don't want to eat it and turn it all into food!

Well, that's not quite true.  You do take all your nasty peels and bones and trimmed veggie bits, but you simmer them for a really long time to extract all of their flavors, then discard them when you are finished.

For example, this is what I found in my fridge one morning last week: 

• half a rotisserie chicken
• a bag of kale that I hadn't liked the texture of (not trimmed well)
• 3 old, rubbery carrots with their tops
• 2 old onion halves with the skin and roots still attached
• half a lemon
• some mushrooms that were all leathery but still smelled okay...

I cut the chicken meat off of the bones to use for lunch, then took the carcass and all of those random items and squished them into my Crock-Pot.  I poured water into the pot until it was filled to the brim, then covered it with the lid, turned it on to Low, and let it go aaaaaaaaaaaaaaall day, aaaaaaaaaaaaaaall night, and almost all of the next day.

If I wanted to, I could have let it go much, MUCH longer.  I've let stocks go for days.  Like, almost a week.  I just keep adding water until the stock is almost smelling burnt.  In this case, I needed the stock for a meal I was making that night, so I just strained it through a colander into a big Pyrex measuring cup, and this is what I got: 8 cups of amber brown chicken stock.   

None of this pale yellow wussy crap you buy at the store that tastes like—um—NOTHING and costs at least $2.00 a quart.  This stuff? It's basically FREE since you were going to be wasteful and throw that shit out, anyway.  And NOW look what you've made!

Just wait until you taste it! Your grandma would be proud.  Really.

For shits and giggles, let's look to see what's left in the colander after I strained all that gorgeousness away:

Now THAT you can throw away!

If you don't use all your stock in one recipe, you can freeze it in smaller containers or you can can it (no stuttering).  Just remember (as Chef Reiton had to remind me once), this is a product made from meat, so you want to pressure can it to make sure that any residual bacteria is dead dead dead (although the chances of there being any after 24+ hours of simmering are very slim.  But still.  Better safe than hugging a toilet bowl.).

You can also use any kind of bones you want.  Sometimes I buy those creepy soup bones at the grocery store that you know are cow legs and use those to make beef stock.  I have used leftover rib bones from rib night and made pork stock.  You can use all veggies if you want and no meat.  Again, remember the true rules of a real kitchen: DO WHATEVER THE HELL YOU WANT.  Your food is yours to play with, test out, and sometimes never be able to duplicate again.  You are the boss.

So.  Bring that Crock-Pot up from the basement.  Go dig through the fridge.  Dump whatever you find in there into the pot and add some water.  Then come back tomorrow and comment to me how awesome you and your stock are.

Pan Sauces Forever: Learning the Magic of Scraping Up the Brown Bits

Have you ever eaten something and wondered how on earth it came to be considered a food?

Like beer.  Someone boiled or soaked grain in a bunch of water, but then, upon straining out the grain, left the sugary water out for so long that it fermented and got all funky. 

Then someone decided to go and drink it.  

GOD BLESS HIM.

I kind-of imagine the same thing happening with preparing meat.  Some foodie peasant daredevil was roasting his chicken/beef/pork/whatever over the fire, and, upon plating his meat, poured some water into the pan to let it soak while he was eating—and then decided to pour that water on his meat instead.

The miraculous birth of pan sauces!

I love making pan sauces.  They can be made simply with water, or they can be trumped up to all hell with wine, herbs, 'shrooms, you name it.  There is an infinite number of ways to make it, but they all have one delicious goal: to take your meat from boring to brilliant in about 30 seconds flat.

Here are some chicken cutlets I made the other night when I was bach-ing it and just wanted something super simple to make along with my roasted veggies: 

See those yummy juices dripping off the meat? Yeah?

I made them.

They didn't exist when I took the chicken out of the skillet.  The skillet was completely dry.  HOT and dry.

Unfortunately and most likely, so would be my chicken.

So here is why I love pan sauces so so so much.  You know what I did? 

1. I took my skillet over to the sink.
2. I put the pan under the faucet and turned the water on for about 2 seconds.
3. I put the skillet back on the burner.  
4. As the water rapidly simmered off, I madly scraped with a metal spatula at all the yummy, crusty crud that had browned and crisped itself to the bottom of the pan, stirring all the bits into the simmering water to dissolve.  
5. When the amount of liquid in the pan boiled down to look like the amount I needed, I turned off the heat, scooped up a big blob of butter (I keep softened butter by the stove; you should, too), and plopped that into the sauce, whisking it in until it had melted.

And then I poured that deliciousness all over my chicken.  

Now.  That is a very basic pan sauce.  It is delightfully delicious, made with two ingredients that I KNOW you have in your kitchen, and it is damn fast to make.  You will love it.

If you want to get even more fancy schmancy, but not any more difficult (I swear!), try browning some sliced or chopped mushrooms or shallots or garlic in the pan before you add the water.  Or instead of using water, use broth or wine.  Or use a mix of both! There is no right or wrong.  Just do what you feel like or have on hand.

But no matter what additions you make or what you use as your liquid, always whisk in a plop of butter after you turn off the heat.  It thickens the sauce up a bit and just adds a nice richness to the flavor.

To top it all off—literally—try sprinkling on some fresh herbs after you pour on the sauce.  I used cilantro in the pic above because I had seasoned my chicken with some cumin and cayenne.  (If you aren't sure if an herb will go well with your seasonings, tear open a leaf and then sniff it together with your spices.  If it smells good together, it will taste good together.)

And that is that, my friend.  

PSF!

(Pan Sauces Forever)

1,000 Chicken Salads: Yet Another (Summery!) Chicken Salad Recipe

Chicken salad recipes are like... well, you can look up the proverbial quote of Simone Elkeles to get my comparison.  To keep the title of this blog kosher, let's just leave it at: everybody's got one.

So I know that the recipe I am sharing with you tonight is not going to necessarily be a recipe that you've been gagging for, nor is it one that you will find yourself passing on to your children's children.

But I will tell you this: it is good.  It is different.  It is summery.  You should try it.

Here are the ingredients before they were blended with the dressing:

The chicken was leftover from my spatchcocking last night, as any good chicken salad chicken is (leftover, not necessarily spatchcocked...). And I ate the salad plain.  No bread.  You get the real taste of it that way (and you aren't eating any grain).

Here's the recipe for 2 servings:

You will need: a medium bowl; a small bowl; a small whisk; a fork

Put the salad ingredients into the medium bowl:

• 2 chicken thighs, meat diced
• 2 chicken legs, meat diced
• 1/2 chicken breast, meat diced
• cut into 1/4-in. cubes:
• 1/2 small cucumber, seeded
• 1 large radish
• 1 green onion, sliced thinly
• 3 large basil leaves, slivered
• 1/4 cup blueberries
• 1/4-in. piece of jalapeno, minced

Put the dressing ingredients into the small bowl:

• juice of half a lemon
• 2 Tblsp. sour cream
• dash of nutmeg
• kosher salt and fresh ground pepper to taste

Whisk the dressing ingredients until completely blended.  Pour over the salad ingredients and toss until everything is coated evenly.  Chill if making ahead, then plate, garnish with baby basil leaves and blueberries, and serve.

Enjoy!

Learning to Spatchcock a Chicken: A How-To Video

I have no idea where the term 'spatchcock' came from.

There is a part of me that wants to apologize every time I say it.  Then there's the other part of me that wants to scream it at the jack who just cut me off...

In any event, I was first introduced to spatchcocking by my dear friend, Staser.  He walked into my classroom one morning and announced that he had spatchcocked a chicken for dinner the previous night.

There were a few moments of silence before I could respond with: "What???"

I soon was to be enlightened on exactly what spatchcocking was, but it wasn't for a good year or so before I finally had the nerve to actually try it.  It just sounded so complicated...and dirty.

My foodie friends, there could not be a more efficient way to cook an entire chicken than to spatchcock it before you grill or roast it.  I don't even think cutting it up is as quick (all those damn joints and all!).

And for those of you who learn like me--through reading AND seeing--I have created a rather homemade video of me doing the deed, just to help some of you out who still can't bring yourself to try out the technique.

I've decided to make this the first of a video series called: "How the Hell Do I...?"  If you have any further suggestions for video topics, let me know.  We may just have to learn how to do something together!

Summer Food Fabulousness—and Tips on Making Granita

A few months ago, my sister bought Chef Reiton and I a subscription to Bon Appétit magazine.  I started getting it near the end of the school year, and I have to admit that the first few issues lay rather neglected on the bedside table (albeit with covers longingly looked at briefly every night as I fell into bed).  I was just too busy and too tired to find the time to read them.  (You all knew that already, though--hence my long periods of silence in which you all wait with baited breath for the next post...ha ha ha.)

Gratefully, the school year ended.

The day before I left to go on yet another trip this summer, the July issue, the Grilling Issue, arrived in my mailbox.  One of my musts when I fly anywhere is to buy myself a magazine to read on the flight.  Normally I do this in the airport.  It's a fun little ritual of mine to search among the wall of magazines and find one that I have wanted to subscribe to but am too cheap to spend the $25 a year to do so.  

But as I pulled BA-July out of the mailbox, I immediately knew that my ritual was going to hell.  The magazine I wanted to read was right here in my hands.  The glossy paper of the cover added a juicy effect to the extreme close-up shot of red hot chicken skewers laid across the page, delicately sprinkled with lacy cilantro leaves and torn bits of basil.  My mouth watered.  I didn't even have to open the magazine to know that that delightful little entree was going to be mine as soon as I could possibly make it.

I continued flipping.  And drooling.  An article on frozen desserts flashed past my eyes: sherbert, popsicles, semifreddo.  And there were those chicken kebabs again, surrounded by other grilled chicken recipes: beer canned.  Smoked.  Spatchcocked?  Dear God... Is this what this magazine would do to me? Why had I waited so long???

So.  Upon return from my travels, I immediately made the Sambal Chicken Skewers for Michael and I (minus the fish sauce--I didn't have any, and have never cooked well with it when I have had it, so I just substituted soy sauce, much to the chagrin of many out there, I am sure.  Sorry.  Still want to make it? Click on the recipe name to link to BA's online recipe.)

Shortly thereafter we had Chef Reiton's family over for dinner, and so we made them some smoked spatchcocked chicken,

baby potato salad (using tarragon as our herb of choice, instead of chives),

avocado and tangerine salad with jalapeno vinaigrette (thank you, Jack Johnson. Can I come out to visit and cook with you?), 

and blackberry granita with lemon cream for dessert. 

The process for making a granita is amazingly simple.  So simple that I'm embarrassed it took me so many years to actually make one, despite the fact that I had wanted to for so long.  There are only two steps, really.

Step 1) Puree your fruit of choice, sugar, liqueur, lemon juice, and salt in a blender, then pour the puree into a mesh strainer held over a 9x13" pan.  Smash and stir the puree through the strainer with a big rubber spatula and into the pan; soon all you will have left in the strainer are seeds and/or fiber.  

(BA used 4 cups of fruit, 1/2 cup of sugar, 1 Tblsp. of liqueur, and 1 Tblsp. of lemon juice.  I'm not sure if those rations are going to work equally with all fruits, but that's what I'm going to try the next time. Keep in mind, as well, that the liqueur used here was creme de cassis (about 40 proof).  My guess is that you wouldn't want to go with anything much higher in alcohol content or you might mess with the freezing temperature too much.  No vodka, okay (which usually starts at about 80 proof)?

To help, below is a shot of the actual blackberries getting sieved, but the picture below that shows what it looks like after (I had done the same process with some raspberries).  And for a vocab lesson: this is the technique discussed when you read that you are to be "pressing on the solids."  (I always wondered what the hell that meant until I poured the puree into the strainer and it just sat there, dripping drop by drop into the pan, and I thought, "This is going to take all night!")

Step 2) Smooth the top of the fruit mixture in the pan so that it is evenly distributed (you want the mixture to freeze evenly), then put the pan in the freezer at a level position for 30 minutes.  After half an hour, take it out, scrape all the frozen parts with a fork to break up the ice, then put it back in the freezer for another 30 minutes.  Do this about 4 times (depending on the temperature of your freezer).

 Just so you can have an idea of what to expect things to look like, here's what the granita looked like after scraping #1:



scraping #2:

scraping #3:

and scraping #4, the final one with the granita being all flaky and frosty, ready to be covered and put back in the freezer until it was ready to serve.  YUM.

With that rash of cooking done, all from the BA-July edition, and with all of it being simple and delicious, we decided to make a few more items from it for our month-belated anniversary party (can you believe it? Time flies when you are having fun!)

 First was the snap pea and cabbage slaw, which multiple people asked for the recipe for:

and next was the plum semifreddo, which I did not get pictures of because it was served in the middle of the party, but here is a picture of the gorgeous plums, simmering away before being pureed, pressed through the seive, then folded into a heavenly blend of glossy meringue and whipped cream before being frozen: 

 Oh, divinely, heavenly food.  Ben Franklin was wrong: it is beer AND food that lets us know God loves us.  And God bless Bon Appetit for tempting us to make it!

Random Food and Cocktail Photos

My darling husband is sitting here, being a saint and doing bills and reconciling, and I'm sitting here, drinking a French red and feeling unproductive.  My remedy? Writing you all.  It's been awhile, regrettably, thanks to my job.  Maybe one day this will be my full time job...

Anyway, due to my absence and my nuts-o schedule, I've decided to just post pics of random food/meals we've had of late, and then maybe in a few days I'll be able to get on again and bang out a recipe.  So, for now, for your enjoyment:

my first Hendricks martini:

ribs, green beans, and sweet potato fries for Michael:

gluten-free chicken tenders with buffalo sauce:

homemade "Brickhouse Cheesy Sticks" (This one's for you, Valbon.)   To get the real deal, check out Brickhouse Pizza Pub in Fort Atkinson, WI.  YUM.

a gorgeous beet I roasted for dinner one night.  Look at that color!

and, lastly—THE HOPS ARE GROWING!!! (Ignore the fact that I have not weeded.)

I'll catch up more later.  PROMISE.

A Foodie Honeymoon: Wednesday Lunch at American Sector

What a crappy day for weather it was on our Wednesday afternoon.  Torrential rains left us stranded for half an hour in a bar just two blocks from our hotel after we'd left to catch a streetcar for the National World War II Museum.  The unrelenting storm nixed that romantic streetcar plan, and we decided to call for a cab instead.  The streets were looking pretty swamped.

But our outlook wasn't dampened whatsoever that afternoon as we headed to lunch.  Today we were going to eat at American Sector, Besh's nod to American comfort food--just kicked up a notch.  The taxi dropped us at the door, and we bolted inside.

This restaurant had a very similar feel to Domenica: very open and loft-like, full of light and glass.  But here, I was hoping for a little something extra--and as we approached the host station, I got it: a hostess wearing bright red lipstick and coiffed hair greeted us with a smile.  Perfect characterization.

The restaurant was broken into two seating areas: a smaller room, partitioned off from the main dining room by a glass wall, was in full view as you entered the restaurant.  The larger dining area, where we were seated, was decorated with what looked like metal stripes undulating across the ceiling-- something like a flag, waving in the breeze-- and centered around a very large oval bar.

Within moments of being seated, our waitress, a cute blonde named Jocelyn, came to greet us, and within a few minutes more I could tell that, like all the other amazing servers we had had thus far, she, too, knew the food and was willing to talk.  And I, once again, was so incredibly grateful for this one hour relationship that I knew was going to develop.  Whether they know it or not, Besh's staff provide a rare reward to diners such as ourselves with this openness.  It's not just the food that sets them apart.   It's like that little mint you get once-in-a-blue-moon with your check: you don't pay for it, so you don't expect it, but when you get it, it is sincerely appreciated.

Jocelyn took our drink orders (I opted to try the housemade seasonal peach soda) and then proceeded to entice us with the appetizer of the day: squash blossoms stuffed with shrimp and ricotta, tempura battered and fried, and then scattered with baby herbs, tomatoes, shaved ham, and caramelized pineapple. Intriguing.  So we got it.  As for the main course, both of us immediately zeroed in on what we were going to get: Chef Reiton wanted the short rib "sloppy joe" with fries, and I couldn't stop fantasizing about the chicken and dumplings.  Both very American, and both one of our favorite foods.

After Jocelyn left we talked about our evening plans of going to Preservation Hall, of the gifts we wanted to take home for our family--and before long, this piece of art was brought to the table:

In five minutes flat, this is what was left of it:

I'm not even going to try to describe what eating a flower stuffed with cheese and shrimp then fried and blended with caramelized pineapple was like.  Just--please...if you ever are offered the chance to try them: DO.

Soon after our empty plate was removed from the table, our main courses arrived.  So fitting with the theme of the restaurant, the presentation itself was classic.  My chicken and dumplings-- a slowly stewed concoction of chicken, green beans, yellow squash, carrots, porcini mushrooms, and tiny dumplings in a thick chicken gravy-- came in a little enameled cast iron pot.

Chef Reiton's short rib sandwich, piled with fried onion straws and tomato and lettuce straight from the kitchen garden, was plated on a mini chopping block with fresh cut fries in a tin can.

And the flavors? They were perfect, simply because they were exactly what you wanted them to be.  Isn't that what comfort food is all about? Flavor-infused memories.

Being the great waitress that she was, Jocelyn had already done her job of selling us on dessert before we had even finished our main entree.  So, with barely enough room for two bites, much less a dozen, Chef Reiton and I agreed to indulge in two classic American desserts.

The first: hot apple pie, homemade butter pecan ice cream, and pralines

and a devil's food cupcake stuffed with Nutella, with a side of homemade vanilla ice cream.

Oh, heavens.  So so so yummy.

I seriously think we waddled out of the restaurant.  And the thought about eating dinner that night made me want to die.

But the thought about eating dinner tomorrow night??? Oh, that one made me very, very happy.

Summer Lovin': A Simple Summer Menu

I just got back from a fantastic trip to Massachusetts with my eldest sister.  We were visiting family that we see very rarely (unfortunately).  One of them was my great aunt Jane who turned 92 yesterday.  She is a marvelous human being: strong, witty, independent, and incredibly generous.  She, so like my passed grandmothers, is the exact example of who I want to be.

The other family member, my dear Uncle Fred (U.F. as he has been dubbed), is the uncle I was going to visit when I met Chef Reiton (happy sigh).  My sister and I spent two nights with him pre- and post-visit with Aunt Jane.

For our first night with him, my sister provided dinner: a meal so delicious I kept inappropriately making yummy-sounds at the dinner table.  It was really quite simple: a grilled sesame-chile chicken served with a watermelon salsa over coconut rice--a meal that I don't know that I'd ever have eaten if it wasn't presented to me.  But, true to most flavors that are forced upon me, once I dug in, I couldn't stop.  The flavors were delightfully summer--bright, zingy, sweet, and salty.  And, thankfully, they weren't the stereotypical burger and corn-on-the-cob.  They were simply OMG.

So now, today--it was a brew day, so D and I decided early that we would make dinner on the grill and eat outside. The kitchen is just too much of a disaster zone on brew days to even think of finding an inch of counter space or room on the stove to cook indoors.  At the word "grill" my brain immediately recalled my sister's amazing meal.  What a perfect evening to try it! I emailed her for the recipe, and present it here for your use: http://www.myrecipes.com/recipe/sesame-chile-chicken-with-gingered-watermelon-salsa-10000001065509/

It's an incredibly easy meal to prepare, perfect for just the family or to impress company.  To make coconut rice, mix a cup of coconut milk and 7 oz. of water with 1 cup of jasmine rice and cook as you usually do (all brought to a boil and then simmered covered on low for about 15 minutes, resting for 5 more after the heat is turned off).  Oh, and I also pounded out and cut up the chicken breasts like my sister did.  It makes for a nicer presentation and more flavorful chicken:

To drink we made a new favorite concoction taken from Men's Health.  It's the Costa Rhode Island:
- 3/4 oz. elderflower liqueur
- 3/4 oz. fresh squeezed grapefruit juice
- 1 1/2 oz. tequila
- 6 oz. light beer (we used our home-brewed Belgian wit)

Salt your pint glass rim, mix your juice and liquors in the glass, fill it with ice, and top it all with the beer.  Mmmm mmm. Summery and deliciously light.

Dessert consisted of the simplest of summer ingredients: fresh berries and cream.  I had some whipping cream that needed to be used; so, armed with the balloon whisk my other sister gave Chef Reiton and I for our wedding, I whipped up about 1/2 a cup of whipping cream with about 1 tablespoon of sugar, then whisked in about a tablespoon or two of sour cream and a teaspoon of vanilla until relatively stiff peaks formed.  Everybody had their own little dipping bowl, and voila! Dessert was fast, healty(er), and fun!

Speaking of wedding, I really need to tell you all about that marvelous day.  It will be the next post, I promise.  :)