Ripe for the picking.

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It is so that time of the year!  After capitalizing on that one fleeting, gorgeous weekend in February, I am now rocking the whole garden-to-table gig.  I love it.  Except harvesting greens when it’s fricking pouring but it’s all part of the experience.

So this afternoon between tea with a friend and getting back to work, I ran out back and gathered up treats to pair with the awesome pork sausage ‘snails’ (nothing gross, just sausage coiled into a nautilus shape then impaled on a kebab) from Claus‘ that I grabbed this morning.  I’ve yet to decide what I’ll do with the baby turnips but the collards will have a hot three-way the gorgeous pork hock, also from Claus, and some Local Folks hot sauce.  And it will be good.

Moist and Mellow

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The pork is in the bag!

One of the great things about a best friend who is an amazing cook is that you get to steal try all of her recipes! So when Corrina waxed lyrical about this recipe for a Caribbean style marinated pork roast, I made a mental note to pick up a hunk of pork the next time I was at the market.

Whether it was divine inspiration, or the desperate act of a mother driven to it by 9 long days alone with the children while her husband is out of town, I noticed that the marinade for this pig had an awful lot of citrus in it and swiftly started pouring off the extra into a glass. Once the kids were in bed, I added an ice cube, a splash of Cointreau, and a jigger of vodka. Moist pork prepped for tomorrow’s dinner + mellow mama = win-win!

Keeping it Light

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Growing up, my family did a lot of fishing. And we ate what we caught. The typical preparation to dredge the small fresh-water filets in mix of white flour, cornmeal, salt and pepper and fry until golden. Put a couple of those filets on a piece of toasted white bread with tartar sauce and you have my grandmother’s favorite breakfast sandwich. No joke.

These days, I don’t fish, but I live somewhere where pikeperch, a white fish that easily plays the part of the bass and bluegill of my youth, is readily available. The problem is that I don’t really do fried food any more. And I really hate tartar sauce.

So instead, I dredge my filets in a couple tablespoons of white flour doctored with oregano, ground chipotle, garlic powder, cajun seasoning, salt, and pepper. Then I “fry” them on my cast-iron griddle set to medium heat, preheated for 10-15 minutes, and brushed with minimal olive oil, for about 2-3 minutes on a side.

I serve it over baby greens dressed with balsamic vinegar, garlic, and a little smoked paprika. The greens wilt just a little when you plate the hot fish. It’s not the filet of fish of my youth, but it’s just right…

Pork in Real Time

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Tuesday, 6:30pm

I have thirty minutes to finish tonight’s dinner, eat it, make the marinade for tomorrow night, get the pork in it, and get to Legend to meet my lovely friend, Emily, for a drink.  Fresh lemon juice, fresh orange juice, fresh grapefruit juice, an onion, garlic, couple of bay leaves, brown sugar, chili powder, allspice, salt, pepper…. just flying around my kitchen.  I’m whisking the marinade with one hand while sauteing chard for tonight with the other.  I’m running, literally running, to the grill to grab tonight’s North African Turkey kebabs.  LIT-ruly running.  I’m shoving ‘em in the oven to keep warm until I can somehow get this mess together.

Side note: I am in such a hurry I actually grabbed the metal kebab on the grill with my bare hands to turn it over.  Not smart.  Ouch.

Tuesday, 7:00pm

The pork roast somehow made it into the gorgeous marinade.  I’m sitting at the dining room table, shoving food into my mouth, calling Emily to tell her I’ll be late.  Loser.   So I made it to Legend by 7:30 where Emily and I had a few lovely glasses of Zinfandel and shared a slice of chocolate stout cake with fresh cream.  I ate most of it.

 

 

 

Wednesday, 2:15pm

Grabbed my trusty Emile Henry dutch oven (thank you, Mom and Dad) and drizzled in a couple of tablespoons of good olive oil.  Once the oil is almost smoking, in goes the pork.  He got seared…..

 

 

 

 

 

…. on all sides.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Then all the remaining marinade goes into the dutch oven, creating a marvelous, fragrant, fabulous piggy-bath.

 

Wednesday, 2:45pm

Oven is preheated to 225 degrees.  See ya later, pig.  Much, much later…..

 

 

 

 

Wednesday, 6:45pm

I think I should probably make a side dish to go with this, huh?  Yeah.  K.  Let’s see…..  *grabs Israeli cous cous, red and yellow bell peppers, red onion, garlic (duh), chicken stock, coconut milk (woo hoo!!  Suck it, Weight Watchers!!), an arbol chile, frozen peas, cilantro, does some stuff with them, creates amazing side dish. <— This actually happened.  Go, me.  See?

 

Wednesday, 7:30pm

Come to mama, little piggy!!!  So I just took it out of the oven and now I am tasked with plating, one of my very favorite parts of cooking and feeding people.  Can I slice it?   I’ll slice it.  *grabs big serrated knife, attempts to shave, pork falls apart.

New plan; pull it.  So I do.  And I’m LIT-ruly doing a little dance whilst pulling the pork.  (That’s what she said.)  I can’t wait to eat this!!!

And here it is, folks.  Real time, Caribbean inspired pulled pork over coconut cous cous pilaf.  Forgive me for the shameless conceit but at this moment,  I rule.

 

 

Wednesday, 7:45pm

Nom, nom, nom, nom……

 

Wednesday, 8:00pm

Nom, nom, nom, nom……

 

Wednesday, 8:15pm

*unbuttons pants

LIT-ruly.

 

 

 

More Skeletons from the (Kitchen) Closet

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Three things decluttered from the pantry, one delish easy meal!

Confessing my ridiculous love of the bulk food section of the grocery prompted me to take a real look at how I could use up some of that bulk kitchen clutter before our move at the end of next month.

Oftentimes, my need to clear things out leads to kitchen disasters like my “everything green” hangover remedy. This time, I stuck gold, or should I say saffron? Continue reading →

My Dirty Little Secret

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Beware, lest your bulk-buying habits land you with oodles of quinoa!

I like to consider myself a minimalist. I move a lot, so I try not to accumulate “stuff.” I try to minimize the environmental impact of our meals by buying local and organic whenever possible, eating lower on the food chain, and all that good stuff. Even in the kitchen, I share Alton Brown’s abhorrence of the unitasker and manage the majority of my cooking tasks with a wooden spoon, a sharp set of knives, and a few go-to pans and baking dishes.

And yet, I have a secret to confess: I am a bulk food junkie. It all started about ten years ago when Habitat had a huge sale on these lovely square glass jars. I bought lots. Not lots as in half a dozen. I bought as many as I could fit in the cart. I counted 40 of the suckers today, and surely I’ve broken at least one or two in the last decade. They range in size from large enough to hold a couple of packets of spaghetti to small enough to hold a couple hundred grams of ground spice.

Once I had the adorable little jars, I just had to fill them. Some of the contents were fairly reasonable at first. I typically keep several types of rice on hand (paella, risotto, sushi, and long-grain brown are staples), as well as several types of beans (black, kidney, chickpeas, and at least one type of lentils). And no measly little spice jar could be adequate to store the quantity of bay leaves that I go through in a typical month, especially in the winter when a stew of some sort is a mainstay.

But then I had children and instead of taking the time to carefully scoop out the exact amount of quinoa I needed to make a particular recipe at the grocery store bulk bins, I let myself spring for the ready-packaged 20 pound bag of Colorado-grown organic quinoa. Folks, I’m the only member of my family who will even eat quinoa. The remnants of that quinoa came with us to Finland, but I’ll be damned if it’s going to make the journey to Germany next month. Quinoa pilaf, anyone?

The sad truth is that the quinoa was just one example of many. Although I’m good about using up bulk flours and legumes, I’m notorious for buying too much bulk tea, unusual grains, and pre-ground spices. Let’s face it, once a spice is ground, it probably only lasts a few months max. That means the authentic Indian chili powder I brought back with me from England in 2003 definitely has no business taking up space in my kitchen.

I thought I had learned my lesson when we moved to Finland, but my pantry cupboards would tell you otherwise. So you may see a series of posts from me about how to quickly use up a jar of dried fava beans, 1000 bay leaves, and that last pound of Colorado-grown quinoa. It’s gonna be ugly.

Lead me not into temptation, but deliver me from Easter (candy)

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I love a good pagan holiday as well as the next gal, but once the bunny clears out, I’m left with tons of candy. And not just any candy. Gorgeous, creamy, hazelnutty, chocolate eggs from Fazer. They were perfect for taking with us in a suitcase since we were going to be spending Easter Day out of town, but their siren song will now plague me–and me alone, since the kidlets and hubby return to school/work tomorrow–for the next few weeks (days?) until they’re gone.

What’s a girl to do in the face of such temptation? How about throw a quarter of a chocolate egg in her morning espresso? That makes a little, almost guilt-free bite of the heavenly chocolate last the length of whole cup of coffee instead of the length of an inhale ;) Now if I can just keep from eating the remaining 3/4 until someone else comes home and does it for me.

Nothing wrong with a weeknight quickie, right?

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So.  Ages ago my darling friend Marcy posted a link on her Facebook page to this recipe.  So I made it.  And posted it on my Facebook page.  Since then, I’ve made it twice more.  And last night I made it again.  This time I nestled a little piece of broiled salmon on top and, if I do say so myself, it ruled.  Here’s my advice if you too decided to make it.  Which you totally should.  Totally.

1. Double the avocado.  Oh, you were planning to use two?  Yeah, well then use three.  What’s that?  You think that’ll be too much?  Then make a french baguette and smear that shit on the bread.  I’ve said it before; don’t argue with me.

2. If you have little people in your house, let them help.

3. Add a few tablespoons of a good, aged parm to the pesto.  *drool

4. Use whole wheat pasta.  The nuttiness of the pasta stands up really well under the garlicky goodness of the pesto.

5. Which reminds me, mince your garlic really well.  Press it, even.  Or use a microplaner.  I freaking love garlic and the first time I made this the garlic was over the top.

6. Use fresh lemon juice.  That funk in the bottle is a distant relative of actual lemon juice.

7. Don’t skimp on the basil and don’t waste the stems.  Throw ‘em in there.  You can do it.

8. Use good olive oil.  For the love.  Put that grocery store brand crap back.

9. Eat it.  Often.

 

 

Actuallly useful information.

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In an effort to abate my chronic self-indulgence, I will now write a blog post that serves a purpose other than me hearing the my own voice.  Actually useful information.

I like white cloth napkins.  I only use white cloth napkins.  For several reasons:

1) They’re eco-friendly (and a little pretentious)

2) They’re more functional than a paper napkin (and more pretentious)

3) They look beautiful on a table and make an everyday meal a little more special (and they’re a little pretentious)

4) I can make ‘em myself (which is uber pretentious)

But, in case you missed the memo, we drink a fair amount of red wine in this joint.  Enter laundry challenge.  I kinda sorta suck at laundry in the traditional sense but I can make a white, organic cotton, handmade, homemade, rectangle-of-sniffy-haughtiness as clean as a frickin’ hound’s tooth.  But, to my chagrin, the process isn’t particularly pretentious.

Big pot, well salted water (like more than you add to pasta water), a splash of bleach, and a sliced lemon.  Boil your napkins (and reusable, muslin teabags… how’s that for pretentious?!) and whatever else you need whitened (not your teeth) for fifteen or twenty minutes, depending on staining.

Remove from the pot then run them through at least a rinse cycle in your washing machine, then toss ‘em in the dryer as per usual.  I also add a few drops of Mrs. Stewart’s bluing to really bring them back to pearly white.  (Can fabric be pearly?)

And this is what you end up with…

Voila.

 

Ice it.

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And so the tea mania continues but, thanks to our apparently temperamental Spring that likes to cross-dress as Summer, I’m forced to detour from my delicious, steamy cuppas and opt for something a little more chilling.  So, I’m experimenting with different herbal blends that do well when iced.

This particular blend turned out really well.  I instinctively turn to chamomile when working on a personal blend but this time, I left the little flowers alone and looked elsewhere.

A tablespoon of lemon verbana, a few heads of calendula, and a teaspoon or so of spearmint.  I bought these adorable little reusable, muslin teabags at The Good Earth here in Broadripple.  They’re larger than any of my tea infusing devices which makes them perfect for a two quart pitcher of iced tea.  Simply fill the pitcher about half way up with boiling water, pouring over the teabag, let steep for ten minutes or so, then fill the remaining space with ice.  For some reason, although I drink my hot tea without any, I like my iced tea sweetened ever so slightly.  I’ve been using one packet of powdered stevia for two quarts of tea.

Calendula, or Marigold, is loaded with heavy polysaccharides which stimulate the immune system.  It is a powerful anti-inflammatory and is currently being studied for potential anti-cancer properties.  The spearmint offers headache relief, reduces stress and nervousness, and is effective in the treatment of all kinds of gastrointestinal complaints.  Lemon Verbana has long been used to treat congestion, indigestion, fatigue, nausea, and headache, but its best quality has to be its flavah.  I bet it’d pair well with gin…. after three o’clock, of course.