stock simmering and skimming

Veal Stock

Hello all. I’m back in Tallahassee and have been under the weather for the past few days. I’ve decided to finally make some veal stock from the Les Halles Cookbook and will be chronicling it for your reading pleasure 😉

I’m finally feeling better, so I’m hoping to get some pictures up from the hog roast and to be trying some new recipes soon. Also, I have a vacuum sealed half of a pig’s head in my freezer right now, so Fergus’s pot roast might be the next undertaking once the stock is done.

All My Love

From Sarasota, with love

Things have been slow cooking-wise, as I’ve been in Sarasota for the last week. My dear friend Nate Oliver was in town from Los Angeles so we’ve been stalking around the bay area visiting friends and doing some catching up. I did contribute to a brilliant surf and turf that Nate’s dad, Don, made (steaks and jumbo shrimp). I did a little pan sauce with shallots, garlic, onions, and carrots and deglazed with apple juice and beer, then mounted with butter and mustard. It came out great and we had a lot of fun doing it. We also got to hang out with Cat’s (Nates mama) new horse, Moon. You can check out some stuff Nate’s been up to out in LA here.

Nate and me with Moon

On Saturday, we’re roasting a whole hog for my cousin Alex’s 16th birthday, so I will be photographing that where possible and doing a post as soon as I get the chance.

For fun I might also post a pretty cool sandwich that Nate invented after a late night out at the bars that was pretty delicious. It involved sriracha-I’ll leave it at that.

Also, I got a little write up over at Nose to Tail at Home for my tripe party post. “Nose to tail at home” is a really cool blog about cooking through Fergus Henderson’s cookbook and Ryan (the author) is up for “Best Cookthrough Blog” at Saveur. You should go over and read about some of this guy’s adventures. He cooks and eats offal for a good cause (his blog raises money for Parkinson’s Appeal, a foundation that helped to fund an operation for Fergus Henderson).

Thanks for reading, and I’ll be back soon.
Joshua

life in the backwater…

So I’ve been thinking of doing Fergus Henderson’s “Pot Roast Half Pig’s Head,” from his revered cookbook, Beyond Nose to Tail. I was pretty excited to find a place that will actually order me a hog head, but they informed me that they would not split it because it would damage their saw. I called the only other “butcher shop” in town who told me they could not order one, but would call me the next time a person orders a pig but does not want the head. I asked if they could split the head for me, and after much time spent on hold, I was informed that it is “against health codes” to saw the head in half. Am I crazy, or does it seem like the universe is conspiring against this dish?

Joshua

how to serve your friends a steaming pot of guts…without losing all of your friends

Well the tripe party was last night and I have to say it was a real success! The dish took three days to do, and while I did provide a little commentary on day 2, I wanted to sort of hold back so as not to scare any of my friends off from coming over. Now that it’s happened, I feel like I can tell you exactly how I did it.

One of the more fun things about doing this recipe was the look on my cashier’s face at Publix as she scanned 4 lbs of tripe, 4 fresh pig ears, and a lb of pork belly (pork belly isn’t actually that strange of a meat, but I feel like the name freaked her out). The ingredient hunt was actually a pretty difficult one. I was able to get all of the aforementioned stuff at publix, but I had to go to a meat market in town for the cow foot (nobody had calf foot). I was about to give up and substitute Italian sausage for the chorizo and boudin noir (blood sausage), but Mark at A La Provence pointed me to Clusters and Hops, a small restaurant and deli that has the most interesting meats and cheeses.

Day 1
Got the ingredients and came home to start the boiling. The tripe smelled terrible right out of the package…

raw tripe

stinky

I also had cow feet…

look kids--cow feet!

…pig ears

...the better to hear you with

and some pork belly

So the tripe and feet went into one pot to boil, and the ears and belly (which really just kind of looked like super thick bacon) went into another. This is when the real trouble started–the smell of tripe quickly overwhelmed me. I thought I was going to pass out. I thought I would need to shave my head to get the smell out of my hair. I was sure the least offensive thing for my neighbors was for me to burn my building down. I was positive that no soap would be strong enough to right the wrongs happening in those pots (one of which was borrowed–whoops!). I actually ended up leaving the apartment a couple times to give myself a break. Now I’m a pretty brave eater, but this smell was the pits. Worse than the pits–worse than the pits of a kid who has hit puberty but not yet discovered deodorant. I soldiered on, though, and after a couple hours of boiling I strained the meat out and had this…

delicious

and this…

tripe, feet

I got to work cutting everything up into nice little squares and removing the beautiful gelatin from the cows feet (the bones were done at this point and were not involved in the rest of the recipe)…

strips of ear

..then I tossed it all in a bowl to refrigerate overnight…

honeycomb tripe

I also tossed the beans into some water and put them in the fridge to soak overnight.

Phew. Day 1 was over, and I had barely survived. It was time to hose the kitchen down and hope for a more pleasantly aromatic second day.

Day 2

The second day got off to a much more pleasant start. The first thing on the list was to cook some onions, garlic, and carrots in pork fat and cumin. Thank goodness. I pulled out my meat to see how it looked, and I noticed that I had really overcooked my pork belly and ears. The belly meat was really tough and dry, and the ears had pretty much disintegrated. Slightly miffed for having not realized this sooner, I headed to Publix to get some more ears and belly. I got home and started the boiling again. I did a couple things differently this time. First off, I started boiling the ears for about 15 mins, then poured the water out, rinsed the ears off thoroughly, and put them in fresh water. This seemed to help with the smell and taste (the tripe wasn’t the only thing that was stinky). I tossed the pork belly in and watched the pot with more vigilance. As soon as the meat on the strips of pork belly (I make the meat distinction because the belly was in large part fat) was tender and resembling something I would eat, I pulled it out to cool. I let the ears go longer to soften the cartilage a bit. Total time on this was about an hour, not counting the time it took for the fresh water to reboil after rinsing the ears. This made all the difference, as the book says an hour and a half or until tender. This was a lesson–don’t set a timer and go on autopilot.

So after fixing my pork belly/pig ear mistake, I was ready to cook the veggies (see the top of the previous paragraph). While I was doing that, I also put the beans into a pot with the serrano ham chunks and got them boiling. Once my veggies were beautiful, I added some tomato paste, then after a couple minutes, a cup of the cooking liquid that I had reserved from boiling the ears and belly. After that, I added all of the meat-the tripe, ears, belly, and gelatin from the feet. I covered the pot and let it simmer for 15 minutes. Man oh man this was smelling good. Once the 15 minutes were up, the beans were about ready, so I strained them (remember they also were cooking with the ham) and tossed them into the pot with the rest of the stuff. This had to cook covered for 2 hours on low heat.

starting to look like food

So at this point I decided to take a step back, look at the procedure for day 3, and figure out my next move. Pretty much all that was left for the next day was to put it all in the oven with some chorizo and boudin noir (blood sausage). My heart sank. I had searched high and low for blood sausage. No luck. I couldn’t even find chorizo. I walked to my fridge and opened it. I saw the package of Italian sausage that I had purchased to substitute. It was a strange feeling, friends. I knew that everything else from this recipe was spot on. At the end of it, I would have spent three days in total, only to be tortured by the very boring sausage. I sat on the couch, already feeling defeated. “Forget it,” I thought. “If I cant feed them blood, then what’s the point? I’ll call it off. Or feed them pasta.” I was really pouting, you guys. It wasn’t a proud moment. When it all seemed lost, I got the idea to send Mark, the Chef de Cuisine at A La Provence a text.

Me: “Dude-I need blood sausage. I’m making a tripe dish and I need some boudin–any ideas?”
Mark: “Tripe? Are you serious man? You making menudo or something? That’s nasty.”

I was determined persevere.

Me: “I gotta find some boudin, man. My dish depends on it!”

I felt like a junkie, begging his friends for money or drugs. “Come on, man–one last hit. I’ll quit after this bag I swear!” I had thrown myself desperately at this guys feet and was impatiently waiting for his reply.

Finally, he replied:

Mark: “Yeah-go to Clusters and Hops. They’ve usually got it.”

It was as though the heavens had opened up on me. I had a lead! I checked my tripe, gave it a little stir, then hopped in the car and sped to Clusters and Hops. I must have had a look in my eye because as soon as I walked in, before even saying a word, the guy behind the counter said, “You’re looking for some boudin, right?” (I had called in advance). What kind of look must have been on my face to immediately tell this guy that no, I was not here to sit down for a sandwich, I was not interested in their gruyere, fontina, or brie. “I’m here for the blood, man. I heard you’ve got the blood. I don’t care what it costs, I need the stuff, man! Hurry up, my kid’s at home alone-I just need to score!” He went into the back and emerged with the most beautiful boudin noir.

give me the blood, Lord

I also picked up a couple links of chorizo…

chorizo

…and promptly hung them on my pullup bar because–well–why not?

a hanging link of chorizo will really set the mood for your dinner guests

Feeling accomplished and relieved, I checked my tripe, pulled it off the heat, and let it cool before refrigerating overnight. I may or may not have tossed one of those boudins in a pan with some butter for a nice little pre tasting. I’ll never tell.

Day two was over, and I was feeling good. I had some of that boudin noir in my belly (whoops, I told), the house smelled amazing, and Ken dropped by to check things out. He tried a bit of everything and was really enthusiastic. It wasn’t even done and he was dipping a spoon in there, pulling chunks of tripe and ear out, eating with zest. It was a good sign. The pot went in the fridge. I made it out alive, after navigating the underground Tallahassee meat scene and my kitchen smelled great, despite being the setting for 2 days of innards boiling. It felt good. It felt really good.

Day 3

The third day was very simple. All the work had been done, and all that was left was to transfer the stew to a roasting pot, toss the chorizo and boudin in, and slide the whole mess into the oven for an hour and a half. I decided to take Bourdain’s advice and didn’t have the dish ready when everyone arrived. I waited for the bulk of the people to show up, then tossed it in the oven and took the opportunity to loosen everyone up with some booze and boardgames while the tripe was finishing. I think this strategy worked, because by the time the tripe came out, everyone was ready.

I forgot to mention that when I pulled the tripe out of the fridge on the third day, all of that gelatin from the feet had coagulated and turned the dish into a pot of meat jello. It looked really interesting…

ready for the oven

Into the oven…

tripe, boudin, chorizo

In the meantime, we had lots of fun, playing cranium and not cheating at all, I swear 😉 listening to some tunes, and just enjoying the company. At some point, Carol Anne found out that there would be ear in the soup and promptly began to freak out. I had a couple whole ears that I reserved for the photographs, and she wouldn’t even look at them. I made it a mission to remove the fear, and helped her to not only touch an ear, but to play with it and become familiar with the texture and density…

Carol Anne's ear experience

trust me, I'm a professional

So without further ado…

look at that nice red color the chorizo gave it

Here’s the gang…

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Great success. It was delicious, and I may or may not have cut some of the tripe up into small pieces to ease the transition into offal eating. Everyone agreed that even though some of the textures were a bit exotic, the taste was great. The highlight for me was the blood sausage. So rich and creamy. Ken went back for seconds and actually asked for extra ear. I couldn’t believe it as I looked around the room and saw empty bowls! This was a lot of fun, and while it probably won’t happen again for a while, I think that some people had some food epiphanies. Ken found a love for ear. Kristin was all over the blood sausage. It’s a hell of a case for always being a brave eater.

Thank you, especially to the friends that indulged me in this whacky dinner party.
Joshua

day 2 of the tripe

Man oh man there is some magic going on in the kitchen right now. I have to admit that I considered torching my kitchen yesterday because it smelled quite terrible. Think wet dog meets a petting zoo. I went online and people swear up and down that the smell is temporary. I was skeptical, but this morning I actually felt like I was cooking food. I cooked onion, garlic, carrots, and shallots in some pork fat with cumin and it smelled like heaven. The beans went into a pot with some serrano ham and another onion and the aroma magnified. Finally–edible food!! I combined everything, then added the tripe and other odds and ends from yesterday, and to my great relief, the smell was gone. The mixture smelled amazing and I tasted a bit of everything and was happy to see that even in this dish’s infancy, it was delicious. It’s cooling right now, then it will go to the fridge overnight.

Heres a sneak preview…

I’ll let you know how it turns out.

Joshua

Tripe

I’m starting tripe today! It will be a three day process ending in a good old fashioned tripe party. I’m getting ready to go procure my ingredients. Check back for updates!

solitude in the kitchen

Ingredients will never let you down. If you show them love and respect, you can always trust heat and time and the motion of a wooden spoon to come through. I like to think about myself as a vessel in the kitchen, especially when making a recipe that was born of hundreds of years of trial and error and love and sweat. I like to think about the people who came before me, trying their ingredients by fire. When I stand alone in my kitchen, making something for the first time, I get very excited. The recipe is good. The utensils are good. The ingredients are good. The flame is good. I am the sole variable, merely channeling the greatness of those who have preceded me. If there is a mistake, it is mine. If the food is not great, it is because of me. An ingredient will never betray me. Only my naïveté is on trial. This unconditional relationship with pork and beef and foul and mirepoix and stock and bones and herbs and spice comforts me. It is constant, and I sincerely hope to continue this interaction of sustenance. Here’s to you, Tirel, and Escoffier, and Julia, and Ruhlman, and Keller, and Bourdain, and Bocuse, and Ducasse, and Gaston, and Ferran, and all the rest. In a time when all things are dynamic and fluid, and even my fingers cannot be trusted to play my instrument in tune, I know that a trip to market will ultimately lead to happiness and learning and a full belly and soul.

goodnight,
Joshua

Rôti de Porc au Lait

I decided to try my first pork recipe from The Les Halles Cookbook on Thursday. I was a little worn out, so I chose a recipe that didn’t require a lot of prep.

Ingredients:
3 lb boneless pork loin roast
salt and pepper
2 tbsp olive oil
1 tbsp butter
1 medium onion, chopped
1 carrot, finely chopped
1 leek, white part only, finely chopped
1 garlic clove
1 tbsp flour
2 cups whole milk
1 bouquet garni (2 sprigs thyme, 1 sprig parsley, 1 bay leaf)

This seemed like a really interesting recipe, and I was eager to see how the milk would interact with the pork. Pork has a very special place in my heart. It’s staple food to Cubans, and it’s really difficult to remember any big family get together that didn’t involve a lovingly prepared piggy. The more I read about haute cuisine, the more I realize that the pig is regarded as a nearly mythical animal in the culinary world. It’s not terribly expensive, it’s versatile, and it tastes so damn good.

Bourdain has this to offer:
“Is there any better, more noble, more magical animal than the pig? Not from a cook’s perspective there isn’t. Virtually every single part of a pig can be made into something delicious. Pork makes just about everything taste better, and no beast offers more variety, more possibilities, more traditional, time tested recipes per ounce than the humble piggy.”

The first step was to get my mise en place in order, which in this case included onion, carrots, garlic, and leek. I haven’t really worked with leek that much, so I was excited to use it in this recipe. Luckily for me my mom gave me a comprehensive book on knife technique that has a whole chapter dedicated to the leek, so I felt confident that I cut it up correctly.

This recipe doesn’t call for any wine, so I cracked open a PBR to enjoy while I cooked (booze being an essential item in any mise en place.)

I couldn’t find a boneless loin at Publix that wasn’t seasoned to death by Hormel, so I went with a center cut bone-in roast. The first task was to remove the spinal cord, which, while not terribly difficult, took me some time to do. I was worried about wasting meat, so I wanted to cut as close to the bone as possible without gouging hunks of pork out.

It came out alright–I left a little bit of meat on the bone, but for my limited butchering skills, I thought it was OK. I also removed the connective tissue and silverskin. I’ll show you the spine because I thought it was pretty interesting…

After removing the bone, the roast was falling apart, so I had to tie it up. I don’t have any twine, so I had to improvise with thread. I wasn’t worried because I use this thread to tie up my bouquets garnis, and it’s always held together over long periods of time. For the future, though, I think twine will be a lot easier to work with.

After seasoning with salt and pepper, I browned the pork on all sides in the oil and butter and set it aside. The kitchen was smelling really good already…

The next step was to add the veggies and cook them until the onions were brown and soft. After doing that, I added the flour and stirred for 2 minutes, then added the milk and bouquet. I brought it to a boil and cooked it for 5 minutes, then tossed the meat in.

The milk was contributing to the smells of the veggies and aromatics and made for a really interesting and complex aroma. Basically this cooked with a lid over very low heat for an hour. I had to use my tongs to rotate it about every 5 mins because the milk can scorch really easily. When it was done, I pulled the meat out and set it aside. While it was resting, I strained the liquid from the sauce into a small pot and boiled it for 5 minutes. I noticed that my sauce was a lot thicker and more brown than the photograph in the recipe, so I took a chance and added some more milk to lighten it up. Once the sauce had cooked and reduced a bit, I used my Aero Latte milk frother to fluff it up and smoothen it a bit. The recipe suggests an immersion blender, but I don’t have one, so I settled for what I had on hand. Improvisation!

I carved the pork up, spooned some sauce over the top, and added some fresh parsley for color…

The pork was nice and moist and that milk sauce was amazing. I wish it had come out a bit lighter, but I think that my cookware might have something to do with it. Last week I made rabbit in a pretty similar manner (wine instead of milk, though) and I noticed that my sauce reduced a lot more than it was supposed to and that the rabbit was a bit overdone (I’ll post soon on that, I promise). I think that the pot I’ve been using to do these recipes might be too thin for slow cooking over low heat. I’ve been looking into some nice cast iron stuff, maybe Le Creuset? (hint hint…) I think something thicker will disperse heat slower and more evenly. In the meantime, I’m going to experiment with my cooking times to try to compensate.

All in all this recipe was really easy and very delicious. I refrigerated the leftovers (pork and sauce separately) and ended up heating it all up yesterday for lunch with my buddy Alex. I tossed everything into a large skillet and heated the pork up in the sauce. It didn’t look as elegant, but it tasted just as good.

Until next time,
Joshua

Cake results

Success! The cake was super moist, the ganache set perfectly, and the ruffles held up well. Everyone seemed to enjoy it and there was enough to go around.

mischief

the first cut

Korin, Emily, and Maria

the gang

Ken, Me, Janelle, and Rachel