Thanksgiving: Gut-Loading Gratitude

For Thanksgiving  this year, Paul and I are fortunate enough to have Peter & Hanne (Paul’s parents) and Carl & Anna (Paul’s brother and his girlfriend) cozy up in our home for a wonderful holiday celebration.  And, with turkey day right around the corner, I figured it was due time for me to finalize the menu.

Here’s the line-up…

Starter Courses

• Beggars’ Purses filled w/ Shrimp, Spinach and Artichokes
• Crostini w/ Sun-Dried Tomato Tapenade
• Candied Nuts (A special, sweet and salty creation made by Paul’s father that’s balanced with the perfect amount of spice.)
• Spinach & Arugula Salad w/ Roasted Beets

Main Course and Sides

• Roast Turkey Breast w/ Prosciutto-Hazelnut Crust
• Homemade Mushroom and Brie Ravioli w/ Brown Butter Sauce
• Peter’s Sage Dressing with Chicken Sausage
• Asparagus w/ Toasted Garlic
• Maple-Sweetened Cranberry Sauce w/ Jalapeño

Dessert

• Pumpkin Pie
• Bourbon Vanilla Ice Cream  (Big thanks to Carl & Anna for our new ice cream maker!)
  

Peanut Butter Jelly Time

PB&J = simplicity, no refrigeration needed, cheap, and just down right yumminess.

Image Src: upnorthmommy.com

This, we already know.  And most of us already know how to assemble a PB&J.  BUT… just in case there’s any confusion, you can rest assured because eHow has saved the day with a PB&J How-To video.

<Really?  REALLY???>

And, after you’ve mastered the art of PB&J, you might be ready for broad, new territory.  Unleash those unstoppable PB&J Master Jedi skills and delve into a whole new realm of peanut butter and jelly – well, mostly peanut butter.

• Grilled Peanut Butter, Jelly and Banana

• Fluffernutter — Peanut Butter and Marshmallow Fluff

• Peanut Butter & Mayonnaise [and Shrimp!] — Yup. According to Epicurean.com, “The Southern Housekeeper listed recipes for Peanut Sandwiches, using ‘roasted peanuts chopped up into a fine paste and well mixed with mayonnaise or thick cream.’  In 1968, Ladies Home Journal offered fearless eaters a recipe for a Siamese Sandwich, which combined peanut butter with mayonnaise, shrimp, raisins, apple, celery, onion, powdered ginger and lime or lemon rind.”

• Asian Curry Spice Peanut Butter, Pickles, Coconut & Potato Chips — This concoction was whipped up by B.P. Loco and is appropriately called  The Wacko.

• Organic Peanut Butter & Thick-Cut Bacon — At Portland’s own Peanut Butter Ellies, you can order up your very own PB&Bacon.  But it doesn’t stop there.  The Build Your Own option offers a wild array of toppings for your peanut butter cravings ranging from banana and gummy worms to guacamole and BBQ sauce.  (The cafe closed, but adventurous PDX’ers can still order their wild sandwiches to-go.)

And, while creating your masterpiece sandwich, rock out to…

…a good meme dies hard.

Smokin! On my stove top.

A friend of mine recently left me a FB message with a tantalizing insight into his diner menu… tea-rubbed tenderloin, beer potatoes, and spinach salad.  (Thanks, Evan, for the mouth-watering visions that danced across my palate!)

Anyway, it was his tea-rubbed tenderloin that got me thinking about all the wonderful options for using tea as a flavoring agent.  Its been years since I’ve played around with tea-smoked duck.  And, since Evan’s message, I’ve had a killer craving for a tasty tea-smoked fish.  But it’s October. And, it’s Portland.  So, unless I’m prepared to crouch outside next to my portable grill with an umbrella, I’ll need a back-up plan for smoking.

Now, I could go out and spend 40 – 50 bucks on a brand new stove top smoker.  But why would I do that when I’ve already got a wok?

Jill Santopietro blogged about transforming an everyday wok into a stove top smoker.  She’s also posted a helpful video demonstrating easy to follow steps for stove top smoked ribs.

The Kitchen Butterfly blog offers Four quick facts about Tea-smoking

It is a Chinese Technique, also known as wok-smoking

You don’t need a BBQ…you can do it perfectly on the stove-top

Traditionally, the ’smoke’ is created by mixing raw rice, sugar, Jasmine tea leaves and Star Anise and heating it up till smoking

It could result in a very smoky kitchen so ensure all windows are wide open and your extractor is on!

Mmmm! Let the smoking begin!

Fun With Pork

The title says it all… it’s a zany video all about fun with pork.

Well, that is, it says almost everything.  It doesn’t prepare you for the pork-loving bunny bouncing around to the sprightly sounds of  7 Seconds of Love (their ska band) .  In this animation, the bacons have eyeballs and the Pork Monster is hilariously disturbing.

Confessions of a Junk Food Junkie

… a potato chip junkie, to be precise.

I could, in all honesty, be perfectly content in the above photo if only the tub was filled with these

…instead of Cheetos.

Cheetos.  Pfft.  Gormogons sums up the edible, orange-dye-No.1 packing puffs quite nicely: “Cheetos are clearly corn based life forms, with glowing orange skins.”  Potato chips, on the otherhand, are nothing short of crisp, golden-fried perfection.

Like any junkie, I am uncontrollable.  Do not leave me alone with a bag of chips, or I promise… they’ll be gone. Down to the last finger-licking crumb. None for you (or at least very few for you, given you’re able to strong-arm me into sharing).

But, to prevent my rear end from busting out the seams of my pants, I’ve gotta have a strategy.

1. Don’t buy chips.
2. Okay. Realistically, number one doesn’t work very well.  So, whenever possible, purchase small individual snack bags.  This prevents gut ache and offers potential for greater variety over time.
3. Never, never purchase a full bag without the presence of a co-consumer.
4. Explore “healthier” options.  (No. Not an apple silly.)

Yeah, a “healthier potato chip” is an oxymoron and borders on sharing the same universe as my pet unicorn.  But still, there are a few less dangerous options out there.  (And I’m not talking about the unorthodox GI cleansing ingredient that is Olestra.)

The variety of baked chips has come a long way.  Among my favorites are Lay’s Baked Southwestern Ranch.  Also Archer Farms’ Jamaican Jerk Baked Potato Crisps pack a pretty delightful punch.

But for something more akin to tradition… I go for Baked Ruffles and plunge those babies straight into a thick French Onion dip.  The trick is, you’ve gotta make the dip at home.  And make it with Greek yogurt instead of sour cream.

Damn those Lying Restaurants

Twice this week, I’ve found my taste buds tantalized by lush, descriptive menus.  Then, my food comes.  I prepare to take that much awaited first bite and WHAM! My cravings are beaten into submission all because the menu description was way off the mark.

CASE 1: Bonfire’s Jerk Pork Sandwich

Last Thursday, the Bonfire Lounge on SE Stark was the source of my affliction.  It started with the following menu description:

Jerk Pork Sandwich. House jerked shredded pork with lettuce, tomatoes and onions. Served on a hoagie with a side of our Caribbean coleslaw and Sweet potato fries.

Mmmm. I craved that bold Carribean flavor profile — a bouquet of Scotch Bonnet peppers, allspice, cloves, cinnamon, onion, nutmeg, and garlic. But what I got was just plain ‘ol pork seasoned with salt, pepper, a little garlic and grilled to perfection.

Yes, it was grilled to perfection.  But, it was NOT Jerk.  Nothing about my pork sandwich even remotely resembled Jerk.

CASE 2: Marriott’s Seared Salmon Sandwich

This evening, it was a restaurant at the Sea-Tac Marriot that led me into culinary disillusionment.  The menu item: Seared Salmon Sandwich.

I expected the color and texture of my salmon to be something like this:

Unfortunately, it looked a little more like this:

I am inclined to believe these restaurateurs are liars. However, I am open to other possibilities.

• Classic Bait-and-Switch strategy.
• Cooks are food-illiterate and need a refresher course in cooking 101.
• Menu writer assumes customer is food-illiterate and will write just about anything to lure the unsuspecting diner into buying  the dish.

Chocolate Covered Bacon

Ooooh yeah.  Chocolate and bacon… a couple of my favorite things.

But together?!?

Admittedly, a teeny bit of doubt crept through my mind before taking that first brave bite.  But once those sweet, salty flavors hit my tongue, intrigue took over.  Immediately following sweet and salty comes a smooth smoky flavor that pairs deliciously with bitter sweet chocolate.

Overall, pretty damn good.  The only improvement I’d like to see is a bit of toasted ancho chillies infused into that chocolate.  Mmmm… I can already taste it.  The rich earthiness of toasted anchos highlighting those smoky flavors. Yeah. Then comes the heat.

Bacon is the Hershey’s of Meat Candy

Yes sirree.  There’s no denying it.  Bacon is the candy of all meats.  So say we all!

At Amazon.com, you can find a whole page devoted to “bacon-meat-candy”.  Better yet, the Bacon Freak Club has a line of “Bacon is Meat Candy” t-shirts, hats, tanks and other greasy apparel.

This is all good and well.  But when it comes down to it,

bacon is the Hershey’s of “Meat Candy”.

Let’s face it.  Bacon — like Hershey’s — is one of those good ‘ol reliable staples that can manage to pull you through the next craving.  You go to the market, drop it into your cart (bacon that is — not the chocolate) and think about how well it will go with that burger, or maybe next to a stack of pancakes and eggs.  (If you’re really inspired, you’ll think about how it will add rich depth to your next Puttanesca Sauce.)

But let’s face it.  Sometimes (okay, most of the time),
Hershey’s just ain’t good enough.

Sometimes, you need a real chocolate to satisfy the craving.  Something deep, dark… a luscious 75% Ecuadorian cocoa, or perhaps a spicy blend of chilies and cocoa nibs to tantalize the palate.

…and sometimes,
Bacon just ain’t good enough.

Sometimes, you need a more complex flavor to tantalize the palate.  In these cases, I recommend a time-stopping indulgence in the sweet, salty flavors of a mouth-watering Spanish Serrano or Italian Prosciutto.  And no, pork does not necessarily claim all of the top-shelf real-estate when it comes to meat candy indulgences.  Enter: Bresaola.  Trust me.  You’ve gotta try it.

A Prost to the dandiest of all meat candies:
Serrano, Prosciutto, Bresaola.

I wouldn’t hate on her if she smelled like fried food

…that’s what @wwwdotjenna Tweeted back in January of ‘08, and it’s been lodged in my mind ever since.

It’s got me thinking about the wide world of fried food.  Not just your run-of-the-mill French fries, but golden foods that stretch the mind’s imagination (or repulsion).

On the one hand, we’ve got the lowbrow side of fried with French-Fry Coated Bacon on a Stick…  mmmm. bacon.

And on the other hand is the highbrow side of fried…

…with Emeril Lagasse’s Fried Duck Confit with Blueberry Sauce.

I admit, the “Blueberry Sauce” portion of this menu item doesn’t sound all that enticing… at first.  But with a closer look, you see that this sauce calls for a lavish, mouthwatering duck stock reduction spiked with the sweet richness of port.  Port is the bridge here.  It’s combination of deep, earthy flavors and rich sweetness helps to ease blueberries into the savory spectrum (and away from all those images of pies and muffins I’m sure you were picturing).

But I’m a realist.  Despite the fact that I can’t stop my mouth from watering over the mere thought of fried duck, I willingly admit that my chances of eating French-Fry Coated Bacon on a Stick are — sadly — much greater than those of savoring Fried Duck Confit with Blueberry Sauce.

Emeril’s recipe points out that cooking time alone is about 10 hours for that dish! And that doesn’t include prep time.  Oh right. And if I was seriously inclined to prepare this recipe, I would need to round up two whole duck carcases just for the stock reduction.  Last time I checked, duck ‘aint cheap.

I’ve got a craving. I checked prices on whole duck a couple weeks ago. Needless to say, I brought home chicken.

The Latke Variation: A clash with tradition

That’s the image that kept swarming through my mind as I conjured up creative variations on the same, ‘ol traditional potato pancake.  I know, I know. For many, I’m already committing a massive assault against the beautiful crisp, wonderfully golden, already perfect latke. But I cannot help it.  I’ve never really been an adherent to traditions.

…and with food, I’m especially reluctant to permit creativity to be squelched by tradition.

But during this holiday season, I thought that perhaps I could arrive at a feasible compromise.  I’d take a traditional latke recipe and make some very minor changes… like adding some freshly chopped flat leaf parsley to the batter. And as for accompaniments, instead of the traditional dollop of applesauce or sour cream, I’d twist it up a bit.

Mini latkes would be topped with sourcream and a tiny bit of caviar — OR sourcream, a bit of smoked salmon and a sprig of chive. Essentially, I would exchange a blini for the golden crisp of a latke.  This is what I envisioned (exchange blini for mini latkes, of course):

But the definitive feedback was that latkes just weren’t meant to be eaten as appetizers. The holiday consumer was supposed to have free reign to pile multiple latkes onto one’s plate and freely add the accompaniments of sour cream or applesauce at his or her own free will.

So, I went back to the drawing board.

I focused on the fiery heat of beautiful chilies and decided to add this to the traditional batter:

• minced jalapano
• chopped fresh cilantro
• garlic
• toasted cumin
• 2 options for sour cream garnish: 1) Chipotle sour cream and 2) Plain sour cream, for those who can’t take the heat <wink, wink>

It’s certainly not wildly creative or artistically eccentric, but maybe I’ll reserve that for next year’s latkes.

An interesting note: At the end of the traditional latke recipe, the author makes a number of suggestions for nontraditional latkes including vege latkes and the addition of jalapeno pepper.

In closing, I think it’s only fair to circle back to the beginning…  Sure, I have my challenges with tradition (“…and with food, I’m especially reluctant to permit creativity to be squelched by tradition”).  But I’ll give a little and allow Tevye — that philosophical milkman — to have the last word.

Without traditions, our lives would be as shaky as a fiddler on the roof.