Pupusas and Pasta

Carbs anyone? We've been so good recently, but Sunday, not so much. It's probably best in my world if I don't cook when I am exhausted.

Baked Pasta with Ricotta and Pork Ragù

Sunday was a brief sliver of time-off between chaotic full houses at the restaurant on Saturday and Monday and I was really tired; really, really tired. If there had been a fridge full of food, I probably wouldn't have done anything but sit and vegetate. But the fridge was pretty barren and we had to go out to schlep 14-year-old to his girlfriend's, so while we were out, we decided to grab a quick bite. I wanted tacos or something of that ilk, something really simple.

Ann remembered that there is a pupuseria down on Valley Avenue (next to Sona) that we have been meaning to try. Rid of teenager, we gave Puerto la Unión Pupuseria a shot. I'm not quite sure what to make of this place, but I want to like it. It was empty when we got there except for a bunch of kids who were playing in the adjoining dining room. We sat in the little dining room into which you enter from the street; it was very cold and very dark, too dark by far to take photos. The booth we sat in had seen better days: the seats were sagging and the springs were poking me in the ass. Definitely a shoestring budget, which I as a fellow restaurateur appreciate fully, given this horrible winter.

I am guessing that the place has changed hands once or twice since opening. The menu is unlike what I have heard others describe in the past and the current menu seems recycled: it says they offer beer but I don't think this owner actually does and it says they accept American Express, which they don't.

In any case, I don't need a menu in a pupuseria. I ordered three pupusas, one each loroco, frijol, and chicharrón. Ann ordered chorizo con huevos. My pupusas were very good and I enjoyed the curtido that came with them. The bean pupusa was my favorite, the loroco my least. Ann's eggs looked terrible and lacking chorizo. She ate them but I could tell she didn't really like them. We both had horchata to drink, Ann's first experience with this beverage. It was too sweet for me and seemed like a commercial mix. I make horchata at times at the restaurant from chufa nuts and then freeze it into sorbet. That way, I get to control the sugar.

In any case, the pupusas were worth returning for. Good to know. Having made gazillions of them at the restaurant, they are not something I want to make at home.

For once, I really didn't want to cook at home on my day off, but at least at dinner I rallied. The thought of not cooking something for my beloved Annie I couldn't bear. She insisted that we stop on the way home and get some pasta, and being as tired as I was, I gave in. Back home, I got a bag of pork ragù out of the freezer.

The result you see above: strozzapreti pasta mixed with my ragù and ricotta cheese, topped with shredded mozzarella and baked. Oh my was it good and sinful! And after weeks of eating well, I felt pretty bad after having eaten it. But I'd do it again!

Pre-Valentine's at Glen Manor

Doing what I do, I can always guarantee that I am working like a dog on Valentine's Day. That's just one of the many perqs of my chosen profession! Truth be told, it is at this time of year that Ann really starts hating the restaurant life and who can blame her? Although Valentine's isn't that much of a big deal for either of us, it's just one of the many ways that life reminds us that we don't lead "normal" lives. And sometimes, we just want to feel normal.

So if Ann and I want to celebrate Valentine's Day similar to normal people, we have to pick a time that fits into the restaurant schedule. This year, we decided to celebrate the weekend before Valentine's, knowing I would be beat the Sunday following a huge holiday weekend. And our idea of celebrating is some quiet time with great food and great wine.

We have been remiss in getting down to see Jeff and Kelly at Glen Manor and so it was an easy decision to go see them on a grey winter day threatening more snow. Chances were good that we would be able to get our quiet time and spend some time talking with Jeff and Kelly if the tasting room were quiet.

As we walked in, Kelly came out of the back room and greeted us as effusively as ever and exclaimed, "We only have Hodder Hill left for sale!" intending for that to be an apology. Darn, twist my arm, I only get to drink your best wine? I'll see if I can live with that.

"We Only Have Hodder Hill Left for Sale"

I asked Ann if she would make a loaf of her fabulous bread to bring with us and she did, one flavored with black pepper and parmesan cheese. And I told her that I would grab a couple pieces of cheese and maybe a piece of salame, if there were any in the cooler. All the while I was planning to make a couple of charcuterie items to bring along as a surprise.

Chorizo-Habanero Terrine

I decided to make a pork terrine, but I'm tired of the mellow ones that I have been making all winter at the restaurant and so I decided to do one spiced like Mexican chorizo with a bit of heat from some golden habaneros. I ground the pork rather more coarsely than I usually do and the fat as well. The meat is flavored with a sofrito of poblanos, onions, habanero, garlic, cumin, ancho chile, and pimentón. A healthy dose of Sherry vinegar makes it taste like chorizo.

Sinful Mousse of Chicken Livers

And going in exactly the opposite direction, I made a super-classic mousse de foies de volaille. The chicken livers marinated in a super-concentrate pork jus, Calvados, shallots, and thyme for 24 hours. Then I seared them and whipped them into a silken mousse and covered them with more of the pork jus, the remains from cooking our pork bellies. It hardens into a beautiful aspic in minutes in the refrigerator.

Boerenkaas Gouda and Virginia's Own Grayson

Hodder Hill Makes Everyone Smile Like This

Kelly Made Goodies

Two Nuts

2010 Hodder Hill Still Life

Fish Tacos with Mango-Vanilla Salsa

We seem to eat a lot of tacos, tacos suaves, soft tacos in particular. Just click the tacos label in the web view (not the mobile view) to see the various taco postings. There's a reason for that. Tacos are delicious, healthy enough if you use corn tortillas and watch what you put in them, and so easy to fix.

And name somebody who doesn't like tacos. [No, not her. She won't touch anything with her hands because she's afraid of getting a little dirty. No, I meant name somebody who likes to eat who doesn't like tacos.]

This taco isn't very photogenic because I just didn't feel like decorating it, I was starving and I crushed it seconds after snapping this shot with my cell.

Pan-Seared Mahi-mahi and Mango-Vanilla Salsa Taco

I don't usually eat mahi because I find it pretty boring. But when it is fresh, it is decent enough and cheap enough fish. I remember having to fight the bastards off the hooks when we were out tuna fishing. They are seemingly everywhere. I ordered some for a friend and when my fish guy sent me a little too much, I took the excess home for a few dinners during the week. I cut it into thin 1.5 to 2-ounce slices so that it would sear quickly.

Ann Made a Salad While I Seared the Fish

Salsa Mise

Salsa 101. You need cilantro. Check. You need a fruit. Tomatoes aren't in season, but I got a nice mango. Check. You need some onion. Green instead of the usual yellow or white. Check. You need some acid. Lime, check, but you could use lemon, tamarind, or vinegar. You need some heat. No fresh peppers, but I have some chile-garlic sauce. Check. After that, it's all improv on your part. With mangos, I love a touch of brown sugar (or dark rum) and vanilla extract. See the vanilla extract my mother made for us for Christmas? Yay us!

Food Porn

If this picture doesn't get your juices flowing, why are you reading this?

Red-Cooked Chicken

"Oh my God, I think this is better than your pork belly bánh mì!" exclaimed Ann. This is high praise indeed: my bánh mì, currently on the lunch menu at the restaurant, was tops on her list of all the dishes that I have ever cooked. And for such an unassuming looking dish to assume the mantle of the-best-dish-ever is saying something. Though no stranger to hyperbole when it comes to food, Ann seemed earnest in the extreme. I can understand her excitement: this dish clearly shows why Chinese cuisine is one of the world's great treasures.

Red-Cooked Chicken: Uninspired Plating, Inspired Flavors

Unwittingly, Ann asked me to cook this eastern Chinese classic last week. As she was flipping through some or another food thing, she showed me a plate of red-cooked pork and said she wanted it. The dish wasn't labeled red-cooked but that's what it was. It's been 30 years since I red-cooked anything at home (though it is the basis of many dishes at the restaurant). I decided to lighten up the calories by going with chicken, but chicken legs instead of insipid breasts.

Red Cooking Basics

I've been red cooking dishes so long that I no longer remember the prescribed formulae, if there ever were such things, for this braise. Because of the long cook time, I put together the dish in the slow cooker the night before, so that I could remove it from the refrigerator and start it cooking before I left for work in the morning, to have it waiting when I returned.

Into the slow cooker went the three huge chicken leg quarters, 6-8 star anise pods, half a cinnamon stick, a chunk of rock sugar, a handful of whole garlic cloves, several slabs of ginger, a couple whole green onions, the peel of a tangerine, and the stems from a bunch of cilantro. To this I added about half a cup, maybe three-fourths, of soy sauce, several tablespoons of Chinkiang black vinegar, and water to just reach the top of the chicken.

To finish the dish, I put some rice on to cook, removed the chicken to a plate, and strained and defatted the braising liquid which I then reduced to the point where if I reduced it any further, it would be too salty. At the very end when the sauce and rice were done, I blanched some Chinese broccoli and we sat down to dig in.

This dish clearly belongs in the pantheon of great dishes invented by humankind. It is that good. And that simple: try it yourself. If you've never had it before as Ann had not, it will be a revelation of the best kind.

Veggies

Veggies with Roast Pork and Lop Cheung

Sometimes I get a real hankering for a big plate of stir-fried vegetables, whatever's on hand. I love vegetables of all kinds and always have. As a kid, I had two rather finicky siblings who didn't like a good number of veg between them, and so I often got double helpings of those things that they wouldn't eat. Score!

Today, we went to the store in anticipation of the snow storm tomorrow and in anticipation of having red-cooked chicken tomorrow night to score some chicken and some rock sugar for the braise. While we were there, we grabbed a can of baby corn, some gai lan (Chinese broccoli), a few hon-shimeji (Beech mushrooms), and a few snow peas to augment what we already had in the refrigerator.

From the refrigerator, I grabbed a lop cheung, a small piece of roasted pork (from the last post), nappa cabbage, cilantro, pickled mustard stems, garlic, and ginger. I had hoped to put in a bit of pressed tofu, but our leftover bit was infected with a yeast and so I decided not to take a chance.

Fifteen minutes of prep et voilà!

High heat is the key to a great stir-fried dish. If you don't have a professional wok and wok burner (I don't and most fire codes prohibit them in residential kitchens and in many restaurant kitchens as well), you need to get a pan really hot and work in batches so that you don't overload your pan. You are looking for the elusive wok hei (breath of the wok) that comes from scorching heat. If you overload your pan, your vegetables steam and don't stir fry at all. A splash of stock or water added once the vegetables begin to brown will flash steam them to a perfect crunchy cooked texture.

My little stir fry here took four batches. I started with the items that wouldn't overcook while waiting for the other batches to get done (corn, lop cheung, pork, Chinese broccoli stems, pickled mustard stems) and ended with the most tender vegetables that would overcook most easily (snow peas, Chinese broccoli blooms, and green onions).

Vegetables to warm a heart!

Roast Pork Soup

What to eat that is filling, warm, comforting, low-carb, and low fat? How about some terrifically delicious soup with roasted pork?

Roast Pork Soup: As Beautiful as it is Delicious!

There are several tricks that we chefs use to make first-rate soups. We start by jamming as much flavor into the soup stock as possible. And then we cook each of the garnishes separately so that they are at the peak of goodness. And everything is assembled at the last second before going to the table to preserve freshness of and prevent muddling of flavors. This soup is an exercise in just that.

Garnishes for the Soup

This soup has both raw and cooked garnishes, which you see in the photo above, staged for cooking. The cooked garnishes are the pork in the foreground and the green plate in the background. The raw garnishes are the cilantro, snow peas, and pickled mustard stems on the right of the photo.

Just before serving dinner, I quickly sautéed the nappa cabbage, shiitakes, carrots, pressed and spiced tofu, lop cheung sausage, and Chinese chives with finely minced ginger and garlic. After just a minute in the pan, I divided these among our deep soup bowls. Over this, I scattered the snow peas and the mustard stems. On top, I placed three small slices each of roast pork and then over all, I ladled on boiling soup stock, garnished with fresh cilantro, and rang the dinner bell.

Stock, the Key to any Great Soup

While I was prepping vegetables, I put together a stock, starting with a base of chicken stock. Into the stock I put several slabs of ginger, six lightly crushed cloves of garlic, a bunch of cilantro stems from last week, the bulb ends of a bunch of green onions from last week, the stems from the shiitake mushrooms, and the pièce de résistance, four or five fresh double kaffir lime leaves. I hadn't planned on adding lime leaves, but when I saw fresh ones in the market, I couldn't resist. Who can resist their unique and haunting citrus flavor? The stock simmered away while we watched a movie.

Hoisin-Agave Roasted Pork Loin

Early on in the afternoon, I rubbed a piece of very lean pork loin with hoisin sauce, agave nectar, and black pepper and let it sit on the counter to warm slightly before cooking. I roasted it at very high temperature for about 25 minutes to an internal temperature of 135F (knowing it would carry through to 145 or slightly higher while cooling).

All these steps and separate cooking or not of garnishes, really, is arguably a lot of fuss for a bowl of soup. But I'm a chef and this is what we do. And the results? You can't argue with them.

Beef and Barley

It's cold, damn cold this winter. I'm not a person to complain about the cold: I like it usually. But there have been entire days this winter when I have been chilled inexplicably to the core and have not been able to feel warm. In weather like this, I definitely crave stick-to-the-ribs food capable of warming not only my chilly bones but my soul. And beef and barley fits that bill perfectly.

Raw Ingredients

On Sunday, before we took off to spend the afternoon at Delaplane Cellars to have lunch, I put all the ingredients for beef and barley in the slow cooker so that it would be ready and waiting for us upon our return.

My basic idea for beef and barley is to put stock, mirepoix, a bouquet garni, and barley in the slow cooker. Then brown the meat and add it to the cooker. Then deglaze the pan and add that to the cooker. Then walk away for hours.

For a really good, chef-quality result, the reality is a touch more complex than that. The day before, I made a huge stock pot of brown beef stock and reserved a half gallon for Sunday to serve as the flavor base of the dish. My idea of beef and barely is a little beef, too little to properly flavor the dish, and a whole lot of barley. It is a grain dish, not a meat dish, in my culinary lexicon and so a great stock is necessary to add deep meat flavor.

The bouquet garni came straight from the garden (yes, I put on my knee-high boots to wade through the snow drifts): sage and rosemary from above the snow and some thyme buried under a coat of snow. And I threw in a couple of bay leaves harvested back in the fall, from the pantry. Herbs, especially this time of year, add flavor nuance to an otherwise very mellow dish.

And variety in the root vegetables comprising the mirepoix will also help. I used what I had on hand: carrots, leeks, celery root, turnips, and red and yellow onions. Some people put potatoes in theirs; I prefer turnips. Into the slow cooker they went along with an ounce of dried porcini mushrooms (for yet another layer of flavor, a deep earthy one).

Browning the meat adds still more flavor and after I browned the beef shin and removed it to the slow cooker, I put a couple tablespoons of tomato paste and a small handful of finely minced garlic into the hot sauté pan and cooked it, stirring all the while, until the tomato paste was caramelized. I deglazed the pan with water and once I had scraped all the bits off the bottom of the pan, I poured all over the meat in the slow cooker. Tomatoes are another source of umami in addition to the beef and the mushrooms. The more layers of flavor at this party, the better.

I added a half gallon of water and a tablespoon of salt, stirred it all well, put the lid on, and spent five minutes washing up the kitchen, before walking out the door with Ann.

Neither Pretty nor Glamorous, but so Delicious!

Back at home later that evening, I pulled the beef shin out of the cooker and let it cool, before shredding the meat and adding it back. Once I adjusted the salt, I scooped out big steaming mugs that we ate in front of the fireplace while watching a movie, warm at last during this bitter winter. Life is good!