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Cuban bread, from scratch. It'll make more sense tomorrow.
This is a first for me. But I have a specific need.
Cuban bread is, superficially, somewhat like French bread. It's almost indistinguishable to the eye, but is an entirely different experience in terms of texture. Brittle on the outside, dry and savory on the inside.
The secret ingredient? Lard.
On the down-side, it does not keep well. Cuban bread must be enjoyed on the same day which it is made. I have fond childhood memories of walking down to Panadería la Viña in the morning to purchase it. My father or uncle would enjoy a strong espresso at the counter and banter with the clientele, I'd have a Materva. We'd return home with a couple of loaves, and a box of pastelitos.
I looked the place up on Google Maps just now. It's still there, and does not appear to have changed much in 40+ years. Many good memories here: https://goo.gl/maps/Mjar18J6SgSc9z897
The next day, Cuban bread turns as hard as a rock, suitable for use as a weapon of war. Think I'm joking? During the 1982 Conch Rebellion, stale Cuban bread was fired at the US Navy by the armed forces of the Conch Republic.
Granted, that war lasted for approximately one minute, but it was glorious. Again, I am NOT making this up. Google it.
On day 1, we combine 1/2 tsp dry yeast, 1/2 cup flour, and 1/2 cup warm water in a small bowl. Whisk well, and wait for a sign that the yeast is viable and doing its thing.
It really took these little yeasties quite a while to wake up and start feeling happy about life. After two hours on the counter, not much to speak of. Then I remembered that I live in Chicago, and it's about 64°F in here right now.
So, microwaved a few cups of water in a large plastic bowl, until it was "hot, but not so hot I can't hold my finger in it." Set a ramekin in the middle, and then set the small bowl atop that (the bottom of the small bowl was just touching the water) and covered the whole thing with a lid. And that whole affair is atop a pair of oven mitts, to insulate it from the very cold countertop.
30 minutes later, and we have confirmed signs of life.
I let 'em party on like that until bedtime, then wrapped the inner bowl in plastic and put it in the fridge. Enjoy your nap, little yeast. Tomorrow you will rock.
Birds are trivially easy to butcher yourself, assuming that you're not squeamish. Plucking them is the hardest part. This is a pretty decent rundown of the process: https://www.theprairiehomestead.com/...-a-turkey.html.
On day 2, pull out the starter first thing in the morning, and let it come up to room temp. Independently of that, add 1tbs sugar, 3/4 cup warm water, and a full packet of yeast in a large mixing bowl. Combine thoroughly, and let rest until the yeast starts to bubble.
Add 1 tbs salt, 4 tbs lard (melted), and 1 cup flour, along with the starter from yesterday, and start the mixer. Slowly add in another 2 cups of flour. Let it mix on low speed until it's nice and uniform, forming a solid, tacky ball. About 10 minutes.
Transfer to a glass bowl, lightly oiled. Turn until the ball is fully oiled. Cover, and let rest. Having learned from yesterday, I set the large glass bowl inside a larger glass bowl filled with hot water, and covered.
After two hours, work the dough by hand to reduce its bulk slightly. Some refer to this as "punching" the dough, eg: literally hitting it with your fist. This dough was so light and delicate that no violence was required.
At this point, most of the instructions say to form it into loaves and transfer to parchment paper for baking. I'm going to take a risk here by just putting a small amount of it into a greased muffin pan (greased with lard, of course), and reserve the rest in the fridge for later.
I warmed up the oven to its lowest setting, then turned it off, and let the pan sit in there for another hour. Then transferred to the fridge, because I did all of this prep way too early in the day.
When ready for serving, set the oven to 400°F, and bake for 30 minutes. Open the oven and spritz the top with water every 5 minutes.
And....
Man, this did not turn out the way I expected.
It was good. Really good, in fact. But it wasn't Cuban bread. I slightly over-did the salt, but more importantly, I way missed the mark on texture. It was dense, moist, and chewy, which are all good things by themself.
But it wasn't Cuban bread. I'm gonna have to reflect upon that for a while.
We learn from our experiences. I'll definitely make sandwiches with this.
In the US, thanksgiving is upon us. For many, this year means recreating classic family comfort-food dishes while separated from parents, grandparents, siblings, cousins, nephews, and nieces. In homes across the country, the fragrant aromas of turkey, pumpkin pie, roasting cranberries and spiced dressing waft through the air.
Which is why I'm going to make frijoles negros.
This is a dish which has passed, with virtually zero modification, through many hands in the Perez family over subsequent generations. My mother still keeps the much-stained copy of the recipe which was written down by her mother-in-law in a three-ring binder protected within a plastic pouch, and has subsequently passed copies of it on to the next two generations as well, some translated into English, some not.
It's one which I've done occasionally in the past. I once deviated from the recipe, thinking that perhaps a smoked pork shank would make a nice touch, and I regretted that decision in retrospect. It altered the delicate balance of the dish in an unwelcome manner.
The basic recipe is simple. In a large saucepot, sauté on low heat two bell peppers and a large yellow / brown onion in olive oil until tender and fragrant. I was moshing out to Journey, Dire Straits and Gangstagrass during this process, and also making bread, so I think it was about two hours, covered. This isn't an exact science.
Add 4 cloves of minced garlic, black beans (with liquid from can), 2 envelopes of Sazón Goya, and a few dried bay leaves. Pass the leaves across a flame to slightly singe them before putting into the pot. Bring to a light boil, and add half a cup of Edmundo Vino Seco golden cooking wine.
Seriously, you have to use this specific cooking wine. I used to have a friend down in Florida mail it to me, before it became available from Amazon. Because anything else, and it's not 𝘮𝘰𝘮'𝘴 recipe.
Also, a note on the beans. Yes, Bush's black beans are specified in the early 70s recipe penned by my abuela back in San Juan. At that time, the Bush's brand was available at the Pueblo supermarket in Hato Rey, and that's what she used. Not Goya, not Conchita... Bush's. So that's what I use.
Reduce to simmer, cover, and just let it rock out for three or four hours, stirring occasionally.
Don't grease the pan with lard. Fortunately, the specific pan I'm using doesn't need any lube. And that's where the overly-salty flavor was coming from. The flavor balance is now dialed-in.
I still haven't gotten the texture nailed yet. Improvements were made by doing a really long second rise, after the dough was in the pan. About two hours in the oven, alternating between "the lowest setting possible" and "off," because it's just too damn cold in here.
Also tried 450° for 20 minutes, which produced better results.
We're still not there entirely, but it's getting a little better.
Shall I overnight some fresh Cuban bread from the bakery in Tampa that makes it for almost every restaurant in town? They still lay a palm frond on top of each loaf so that it causes a proper split in the middle.
By the way, we are soaking some Satsuma (relative of the tangerine) wedges and bourbon and vodka as an experiment. The ones in vodka have been submerged for 2 weeks and the ones in Bourbon One Week. Two weeks seems to be a magic number but I enjoy the flavor of the bourbon more.
I'm not usually of a soup kind of guy. But I'm feeling emboldened by the semi-success with the bread last week, and thinking "Well, bread and soup do go well together." And since I seem to be pretty good at turning out dense, rich bread (regardless of whether I'm trying to or not,) that seems like something I ought to embrace for right now.
So, a two-for-one tonight. Been reading a number of different recipes, and have pieced together something while I hope will work well.
Focaccia Bread:
Start 1 packet yeast going in a mug with 1/4 cup warm water and 1/2 tsp sugar. This time, I'm using a digital thermometer to ensure that the water in the cup, as well as the water in the large bowl that I set the cup into, is right at optimal spa-temp for the yeast: 115°F. If I find myself doing more with this bread thing in the future, I'll likely construct a simple proofing oven.
Separately, in the mixer, combine:
3 cups flour
1/2 tsp sugar
1 tsp salt
2 tbs dry parmesan cheese (the powdered kind inside the plastic bottle is fine.)
1 tsp garlic powder
1 tsp dried oregano
1 tsp dried thyme
1/2 tsp dried basil
A shot of ground black pepper
Once the dry ingredients have mixed together, and the yeast have woken up and started feeling confident about themselves (the contents of the mug should expand in volume at least 4x), add the starter into the mixing bowl, along with another 3/4 cup warm water. Mix slowly, starting with the K blade and then switching to the dough hook once a ball starts to form. I wound up slowly adding about 1/3 cup additional warm water, as the mixer was really struggling with this dry mixture. Continue for 10 minutes on the lowest speed setting.
Transfer the dough to a glass bowl with olive oil, work into a ball, and again we'll do the tedious "Put the smaller bowl into a larger bowl, atop a ramekin, with the larger bowl filled with warm water, and sitting atop an oven mitt, and cover the whole thing for three hours" procedure. Because it's goddamned cold in here.
Roll enough for tonight out onto a sheet of parchment paper atop a baking sheet, and dress with fresh rosemary. Bake 15 minutes at 450°F. Put the rest into the fridge.
After the dough has gone into the bowl to begin rising, we'll start phase 2: Tortellini Soup
In a large pot, cook 1lb mild Italian sausage in olive oil. (Remove from the casings and crumble if you bought links rather than loose sausage.)
Add a chopped onion to the pot once the sausage is nearly browned. Let that continue until the onion is softened, but not caramelized. Just a few minutes.
Into that cauldron, add:
1 15oz can fire-roasted tomatoes, with juice from can
2 cups beef stock
2 cups vegetable broth
A generous spoonful of tomato paste
4 cloves minced garlic
1 tsp dried basil
1 tsp dried oregano
1 tsp dried parsley
1/2 tsp dried thyme
I made a conscious decision earlier to buy mild sausage rather than hot sausage. I can easily put more spice into the dish, but I can't take it out. That's an important lesson which I've learned along this journey. Even though I used to be the guy who dumped Sriracha onto everything, I've come to learn that subtlety and balance are important if you with to appreciate all of the layers of flavor in a rich and aromatic dish such as this one.
Also, starting with just 2 cups each unsalted beef stock and regular vegetable broth, though I'll have another 2 cups each in reserve if I find that more flavorful liquid is needed. Please excuse the un-photogenic condition of the carton of beef stock. There was an... incident in the trunk of the car involving some volatile liquids. (No, the battery is fine. It wasn't that.) And, in the end, I wound up adding more water, as the flavor was on point but I needed more liquidity at the tortellini step below.
Bring that to a simmer, and let it happen for about an hour, stirring occasionally. It gonna still be runny, but some tortellini at the end is going to soak a lot of that up.
I also have this jarred roasted red pepper here. Gonna slice some up, but treat it with caution for now. Not sure if it's going to be too much sweetness for such a savory dish.
So at this point I'll separate the soup at this point, taking out enough to fill one small saucepan, refrigerate the rest, and continue with the small pan as a test article. So, in with the roasted red pepper.
A note here: the sort of roasted red pepper which you buy preserved in liquid in a jar is not spicy. Not at all. Rather, it tends to be slightly sweet, and a tad sour / pungent. I happen to quite like it, but was being cautious here as the soup was already tasting pretty damn good before it went in. If it works, it'll be a "cherry on the top" sort of thing.
There's also that crushed red pepper flake in the prep photo. That is spicy. I held off on this until the very end, seasoning to taste, and wound up using only a tiny pinch. This soup has really got some character going on.
About 10 minutes prior to serving, toss in some cheese tortellini. If you are planning to keep leftovers, add only enough for tonight's serving, and reserve the rest in the fridge. Don't want it getting too soggy.
And, about 60 seconds prior to serving, toss in some fresh arugula and swirl that around. Just long enough to wilt it.
Done and done.
I try to be humble in judging my own dishes, but this was was just damn good. Like, I can't think of anything I'd do differently. 9.5 / 10.
The roasted red pepper was a good call, and I'll be adding about half a jar of that, coarsely sliced, to the main pot for the leftovers. The subtle sweetness of the peppers worked perfectly in what turned out to be a fairly spicy dish.
Winter is upon us, and all throughout the bazaar, the aroma of pumpkin pie spice wafts from tent to tent. Pumpkin spice latte, pumpkin spice candles, pumpkin spice motor oil... So I figure, "Hey, why not pumpkin spice chili?"
It turns out I'm not the first to have this idea. Numerous recipes are to be found, and I've taken several of them as inspiration to put together a recipe which I think will be palatable. Also, since it's mid-week, I'm doing this one as a crock pot dish. I did all of the prep last night, put the cauldron in the fridge, and then took it out this morning before work and put it in the slow-cooker on low.
Start with about 1.25 lbs ground beef. I'm using 90% lean here, which you'd never want for something like a hamburger or a meatloaf, but which is ideal in a stew where there's plenty of moisture to go around. Brown it in a skillet.
At the same time, the onion and the bell peppers, are cooking in a large pot. Gonna sear these pretty well.
Also, I have finally perfected the super-easy way to chop an onion. It's an adaptation of a technique which I picked up from a hobby machinist blog on YouTube run by a guy named This Old Tony. He uses this method frequently on mild steel, and it turns out to work wonderfully in the kitchen as well.
Add all of the above to the cauldron, two 15oz cans fire-roasted tomatoes with juice, one 15oz can of pumpkin puree, one 15oz can of black beans (drained but not rinsed), one 15oz can hominy (drained, but not rinsed), 6 cloves garlic, a cup of chicken broth, 2 tsp oregano, 2 tsp chili powder, 2 tsp pumpkin pie spice, and 1 tsp cumin. I expect to add salt and crushed red pepper flakes tomorrow, but not until it's had a chance to cook for a while and let those flavors meld together. It'll be a to-taste thing.
And... this evening upon returning home, wow... that aroma. I tasted it and decided to add (slowly, and at intervals) some salt, crushed red pepper, a bit more cayenne, a fair bit of brown sugar, and some nutmeg and cinnamon.
The corn muffins are just your standard buttermilk cornbread recipe, to which I've added creamed corn, diced chipotle peppers (the kind that come in a can packed with adobo sauce), a bunch of minced green onion, and some shredded sharp cheddar cheese.
Fun tip: Not sure whether or not you have a paper-cut on your finger? Dunk your finger into a can of chipotle peppers in adobo sauce. Then you'll know.
The past few weeks have been a flavor explosion, but also a carb-avalanche. Definitely feeling it. So, gonna go for something lighter tonight.
Salmon with bourbon-pecan glaze.
This is a simple and quick meal. 30 minutes start to finish, and with zero prep-dishes to clean, save the cutting board.
To start, melt 2tbs butter in a small skillet or saucepan over very low heat. Blend in 1/2 cup brown sugar, 1 tbs coconut aminos (or soy sauce, if you prefer), 1/2 tsp ground mustard, and 1/2 tsp cayenne pepper. Get that all swirling around, and then start adding bourbon. I probably added around 1/2 cup, though it's difficult to know for sure, as I didn't measure, and not all of it wound up in the pan.
Let that simmer for a bit, whisking often. Add 1 tsp of corn starch to thicken the mixture a tad. Toss in a half cup of chopped pecans.
If, like me, you use the little food processor for the pecans, exercise restraint; just a few pulses on low. Emphasis on "chopped," not "pureed." I wound up also adding a healthy shot of crushed chili pepper flakes (not pictured) after tasting during the simmer. Keep this going on "lowest of low" heat while you proceed.
Chop some asparagus. Coat lightly in olive oil and crushed black pepper. Put in a baking pan and set aside.
Now, slice off a hunk of this gorgeous skin-on salmon. I'll admit, I usually use the frozen kind, as I often bury it under layers of texture. But for a dish like this, where the fish is the star, the fresh, wild-caught sort at the seafood counter is always, ALWAYS a winner for thickness, texture, and juiciness. And it can often be had for about the same price if you shop around a bit.
Lightly dust the fish with salt and pepper. Massage it. Caress its oily goodness. Share with the fish your innermost feelings and desires. Embrace the feeling of its flesh against yours.
Pre-heat oven to 400°F
In another small skillet, melt a dab of ghee, aka clarified butter. Has the advantage, as compared to whole butter, of being able to be brought up to very high temperatures without becoming a charred mess.
Raise the pan to medium-high heat, and sear the fish for two minutes per side. Start it skin-side up, then turn skin-side-down.
Remove the skillet from the flame. Drizzle the glaze over the fish, and then put the skillet into the oven*.
* = assumes you have an oven-safe skillet. If not, invest the $30 in getting one. It makes dishes like this so much more fulfilling.
Assuming a fairly thick piece such as this one, figure on maybe 13-15 minutes bake time. This is a personal-preference thing. If you're not quite at the point of feeling confident judging it ahead of time by visual perception (of thickness) alone, don't be afraid to prod it with a fork after 10-12 minutes. It should flake easily at the thickest point, but still be very tender.
The asparagus, meanwhile, does exactly the same stint in the oven.
And... that's it. Plate, spoon a tad more of the glaze over everything, and bon appetit!
This was a new recipe for me, a total wag, and it was great. Definitely one I'm saving in the "to do again" folder.
This is (obviously) a bit overdue, but our home-raised heritage breed turkey turned out great. He had a much thicker layer of fat under the skin, at least compared to a store bought bird, which made for an extremely juicy turkey. We brined him for about 14-16 hours in a mixture of salt water, apple cider, rosemary and thyme. All in all, I was extremely pleased how he turned out. We'd never raised turkeys before or had this type of turkey, so there was some apprehension.
I think next year we'll try to raise a few more to sell to friends and family so they too can enjoy an alternative to a store bought, factory farmed turkey.
MONDAY MORNING
WEDNESDAY EVENING
THURSDAY AFTERNOON
Last edited by Efini~FC3S; 12-09-2020 at 08:26 AM.
Although with the amount of leftovers we had to toss this year (just had two friends over since we don't live near our families) we decided next year we are going full on "A Christmas Story" and just ordering a **** load of Chinese food.
Pardon the lull in postings. This past week has been... weird.
Salmon with dill crema, and broccolini.
I've been having good luck finding these large 1.5-2lb chunks of fresh salmon at Marianos for $9/lb, which beats the frozen price. The skin-on stuff at the fresh counter is a world apart in terms of thickness and texture. No idea why the salmon fillets in the frozen package are always cut so thin, but it is what it is. Buy the fresh stuff.
So, lop off a chunk of that, and place in a sheet of foil. Season with lemon-pepper spice, top with some thinly sliced onion, lemon juice, and a pat of butter. Close the foil, and bake for 30 minutes at 350°.
The sauce is 1/3 cup mayo, 1/3 cup sour cream, a small handful of finely minced onion, 2 tsp lemon juice, 2 tsp horseradish, a shot of salt and black pepper, and a handful of finely-chopped fresh dill.
Here's a helpful kitchen tip: Most common liquid ingredients, such as mayonnaise and sour cream, weigh almost exactly as much as water per unit volume; roughly 236 grams per cup. So that's a helpful thing to know when measuring multiple liquid ingredients into a mixing bowl. You don't need to dirty any measuring cups, just put the mixing bowl onto a scale. 1/3 cup is 79 grams.
Much less cleanup this way.
Mix that well, and set aside.
In a large skillet, raise some water to a boil. A half inch should do it. Add the broccolini, cover, and cook for about 90 seconds. Strain the broccolini, dry the skillet.
Add some olive oil to the pan. Toss in some minced garlic (about 1 clove / 1 tsp) and the broccolini. Sear for about 3 minutes. Finish with butter, lemon juice, and pepper.
Plate. Garnish with dill if you want to be all fancy-like.
After handling fresh jalapenos or chipotle peppers picked in adobo, it's important to wash your hands nine times before touching your eyes or nose.
Nine times.
Anyway, this one was good.
The salmon is coated in a mix of olive oil, honey, lime juice, minced chipotle pepper, cumin, and dried lemon peel. Bake for 15 minutes at 450°F, spooning some more of the mix over it towards the end.
The side is a blend of cabbage, thinly sliced onion, fresh cilantro, black beans and seared corn, mixed with a 50 / 50 split of mayo and sour cream blended with quite a lot of lime juice, one finely minced jalapeno, and... a packet of store-bought fajita seasoning. Top with roasted salted pepitas. (Roasted sunflower seeds would also work.)
Everyone knows that Great Britain appropriated curry from India during the colonial period, where, having been adjusted to suit the local palate, it became a mainstay British comfort-food.
What's less well-known is that the westernized version of curry then migrated from Great Britain, along the trade routes across Asia, ultimately landing in Japan in the late 19th century. The Japanese modified the dish to local tastes, and it is now a highly popular food there. And, curiously, it is regarded as a western-style dish within Japan, which adds to its mystique.
I first came across it in NYC in 2009, at a Japanese Baseball-themed take-out place called Go Go Curry! Haven't tried it since.
Time to rectify that shortcoming.
Start with one large yellow onion, two bell peppers, and about a cup of shredded carrot. Cook on medium heat in some oil for about 30 minutes, stirring occasionally. Really want to reduce this down.
Toss in 5 cloves of minced garlic and a generous amount of minced ginger. I'm experimenting for the first time with this freeze-dried ginger, and I have to say that I'm finding it to be a very convenient ingredient. When I ground it in the mortar, it was... overwhelmingly aromatic.
Add one can coconut milk, 3 tbs honey, 1 cup chicken broth, 2 tbs curry powder and 1 tsp Tumeric. Simmer, and adjust seasoning to taste. I initially was trying to up the spice with garam masala, but that was the wrong flavor. Wound up putting in a few generous shots of shichimi togarashi, some black pepper, and also a little nutmeg. Blend in a few tbs of flour to thicken, if you like.
For the chicken, I'm using thighs rather than breasts, as most people seem to use. The thigh is a darker, richer meat, and I just generally prefer it.
Slice thinly, dust with flour, dredge through egg, then panko. Pan-fry for 6 minutes per side.
Plate.
I'd thought I had Jasmine rice in the cupboard, but turns out that I do not. So Arborio instead.
Garnish with cilantro, sliced cucumber, and pickled onion. I made the pickled onion last night. Simple recipe, just boil cider vinegar, sugar and salt. Pour over the sliced onion in a jar, and add water to top it off. Keeps forever in the fridge.
11-24-2020, 02:59 PM
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