This recipe originally appeared on my facebook page as "Eric is bored at work, so here's a recipe for some random shit. Episode 3: Vindaloo"
Let us first ask the question many of you are asking yourself: What is Vindaloo? The answer, my friend, is long and interesting. Let's imagine you're Portuguese. Better yet, let's imagine it's the early 16th century and you're Vasco de Gama, recently arrived in Goa to buy some cardamom or something. (For the culturally illiterate, Goa is small state on the west coast of India in the Konkan region, bordered on the north by Maharashtra and to the east and south by Karnataka.) You land in some delightful town that will one day be named Vasco de Gama (seriously, they named the town Vasco de Gama) with a mad hunger for some "Carne de Vinha d'Alhos", which your lovely wife made for you before you headed off for your latest trade voyage. Wandering the streets you find a lovely cafe and settle in to eat. But lo! Your purse has been nicked by a street ruffian, and all of your precious escudos are gone! What to do?
Well, here's what you do, you resourceful 16th century Portuguese trader who this very town will one day be named after: You negotiate a deal with the cafe owner, in which you will demonstrate how to make this delicious "Carne de Vinha d' Alhos" that you are craving, and in return, the cafe owner will throw in the meal for free. Sounds good? Excellent! What, no pigs available? Well hell, let's substitute some lamb! [NOTE: Actual introduction of Carne de Vinha d'Alhos to Goan cuisine by Portuguese traders may have occurred in some specifically different manner, most likely involving introduction of syphilis on the side, but you get the picture.]
Throw in 500 years of co-mingling with local spices and the British popularizing love of all things curry, and the rest is history. In Short: Vindaloo is a Portuguese pork dish which over time was absorbed into Goan food culture and is typically prepared with lamb in modern times. It's peppery and vinegary and spicy and delicious, and you should really try it.
So, what the fuck is IN Vindaloo, you ask? Let me break it down for you. Go to your local grocery store and acquire the following:
A couple of lamb shanks
A few potatoes
A bulb of garlic
A large yellow or spanish onion.
Some cilantro
Some wine-based vinegar (I like white wine vinegar, but anything works).
Some fresh ginger
A handful or two of green chillies
A bag of brown sugar
One medium (the kind you can hold with one hand) can of crushed tomatoes
Plain Yogurt (I like to use the kind made from lamb's milk, when I can find it)
Now, go to your local spice store, or a whole foods, or wherever you can find them, and get:
Ghee (clarified butter. Doesn't have to be refrigerated, keeps for ever, has a unique taste, and is very, very bad for you)
A bunch of black peppercorns
Coriander seeds
brown mustard seeds (NOT YELLOW. I have stressed this enough, but for the sake of argument, let's assume I have not, nor could I ever.)
cardamom pods
cumin seeds
Turmeric powder
Cinnamon in stick form (technically, it's going to be Cassia, but if you can get your hands on real cinnamon bark, I applaud your persistence and resources)
Cloves (the actual cloves, not the hipster smokey treats)
Fenugreek seeds (these are really only available at specialty spice stores, or online, but are a necessity)
A couple of handfuls of Kashmiri peppers (you will not be able to find them, but if you can, sub them in for the green chillies)
Crystallized Ginger (Not absolutely necessary, but I use it. If you can't find fresh ginger at the store, double the amount of this in the recipe and you should be ok)
A note on spicy heat: This dish is supposed to be really spicy. I mean, really spicy. I mean, burn off the lining of your mouth spicy. When you go to a good Indian restaurant and order Vindaloo, the waiter's response should include "How spicy?" If some analogue of those words do not come out of his mouth, politely excuse yourself and go eat somewhere else because they will either bring you crappy vindaloo, or they have decided to collectively fuck with their customers, and will bring you vindaloo you will NOT be able to handle. I am not allowed to make this stuff full strength unless I am eating alone. So the recipe, as written, isn't going to be too bad from a heat perspective -- most of the spicy burn is going to come from the spice mixture. If you want to keep it real, double or triple the amount of chillies/peppers you put into the dish, and bump up the amount of ginger you use significantly. Fair warning, adding too much ginger will mess with the flavor proportions, but part of the fun of cooking is learning how to make a dish your own, so I encourage you to go to town.
A note on pork versus lamb: So, originally, this dish was a pork dish. If you make it with pork, it's still going to taste good. However, most people first encounter this dish in its current version, popularized by the Brits, in which lamb is used. If you want it to taste like the stuff in the restaurant, make it with lamb. It's going to work either way.
A further note on the meat part: You'll note that I listed lamb shanks for this dish. That's a choice, and one I hope you will follow me in making. If you choose instead to be a lazy-ass bitch and purchase pre-cubed lamb stew meat or some other shit, YOUR VINDALOO WILL SUCK. Part of the tastiness is the fat and cartilage found from the pieces of meat you cut off the bone rendering out into (for lack of a more technical term) tastiness as you slowly cook the vindaloo. So don't ruin the dish before you start by using stew meat, which is usually cut up pretty damn lean, has no fat attached, and is just generally wrong. If you use pork, just choose some cuts of pork that have fat and tendon and whatnot attached. You'll be fine.
One more note and then we'll get to it: To make this dish, you need whole spices (everything but the turmeric), and a way of grinding up those spices into the base of a paste. If you want to do it the hard way (and if you've read my other two recipes you know I like it hard) then get yourself a mortar and pestle. If you want to be a reasonably intelligent person and embrace the modern age, grab a $5 coffee grinder at a second hand store and use that for grinding your spices. That's what I do, and I'm fucking awesome (and still hard).
Cooking Vindallo, Part 1: Spice Paste (in which we create the spice paste, cut up some meat, and spend most of our time)
The day before you plan to eat your tasty vindaloo is the day you do most of the work. We're going to make a spice paste, and then coat the lamb in it, and then let it sit overnight. This has the dual benefits of allowing the spices' flavors to mingle and tenderizing the meat, thanks to the vinegar in the paste. If you don't have a whole day to do this, your dish will still be tasty, but please try to allot at least 1 full hour of lamb marination prior to cooking.
Ok, so take your gaggle of spices, put a small saucepan (dry) over low heat on the stove, and add the spices in the following proportions:
1 Tablespoon of black peppercorns
2 Teaspoons of coriander seeds
2 Teaspoons of cumin seeds
1 inch of a cinnamon stick
5 cloves
1 Tablespoon mustard seeds
1 Teaspoon Fenugreek seeds
5 cardamom pods
This is to taste, and you shouldn't worry about rounded tablespoons/teaspoons, etc. In general you probably want to measure these "easy" (over the pan, meaning you get a little more than you're measuring). As you try making this dish, you may find you like a little more cinnamon flavor, or a little less cadamom, etc. Have fun. I'll point out here (as I will later) that this dish is really easy to ramp up for more people: Just start doubling everything. Anyway.
Shake the pan about every couple of minutes and keep the spices over heat until your kitchen fills with the scent of spice. Another good marker of when they're ready is that your mustard seeds will have started to turn grey. Pro Tip: One of the secrets to Indian cooking is roasting your spices. I'm no expert on it, but at a basic level, a dish made with roasted spices is going to taste a lot better than if you just grind/mix spices straight out of the cupboard.
While you're heating up your spices (or before, depending on your knife skils), peel and mince fine that entire bulb of garlic. Don't look at me like that. You heard me. I said "The ENTIRE bulb of garlic." Thank you. Also, measure off a good inch or so of ginger, peel it and mince it up really fine as well.
Once your spices are roasted, toss them into your grinding implement, add a piece or two of crystallized ginger (if you're bothering) and grind them into a fine powder. Dump that into bowl large enough that you can envision filling it with your lamb AND stirring and mixing without making a mess, then add 1 Teaspoon of turmeric powder and mix it up good. If I knew how to bake, I'd say this is like baking (dry ingredients, then wet ingredients), but I don't, so it's purely conjecture on my part.
Now, add your minced garlic and ginger to the spices, mixing it up, then add a tablespoon of brown sugar (mixing it up). Get a nice, good mix going. Now start adding vinegar and stirring until you have a good, slightly watery paste. You can't really add TOO much vinegar here, but in general, we're looking for about 4 tablespoons to start, then keep adding until you feel you've got a good consistency. Key point: we're making a paste, not a soup.
A note on fenugreek: I don't know what fenugreek is. I don't know what plant it grows into, or if it's a seed, or what. what I do know is when I tried making vindaloo the first few times without using fenugreek (because I couldn't find it), the vindaloo never tasted quite right. The final flavor felt off, somehow. Particularly the vinegar. It seemed no matter how much vinegar I added (and I tried adding a LOT), I couldn't get that vinegary vindaloo taste at the end. Then Chaz found fenugreek (It's available at Fox and Obel in several varieties, apparently) and I made vindaloo, and it tasted RIGHT. So I'm going to take a stand and say that fenugreek is the spice that brings all the other spices together. You might make your lamb curry without fenugreek, but it'll be just that: lamb curry. It will probably taste great, too. But it won't be vindaloo).
Cover your bowl of vindaloo paste with plastic and toss it in the fridge. Take a break, stretch, clean up all the spice crap that's all over your kitchen. Give it a good 30 minutes to sit. Then pull out your cutting board/chopping block, a sharp knife, and the lamb shanks, and go to town. You want to cut everything off the bone, you want all the fat and sinew and cartilage, and you want to end up with vaguely cube-shaped chunks of lamb. Size is relative, as we all know too well, but I generally go for 3/4"-1" cubes.
Next, you want to take your chillies and de-seed them and slice them lengthwise, so you have a bunch of little chilli strips.
The final step of this, the "Spice Paste" segment of vindaloo is to take your spice paste out of the fridge, add the lamb cubes and strips of chillies, mix it up really nice, cover it back up and put it back in the fridge.
Step 2: Cook that Shit Up.
Quickly (because I realize this is starting to get really damn long):
Chop up the onion relatively fine.
Take another inch of ginger, peel and and either a) chop it up pretty fine or b) slice it into really thin (but large on the radii) pieces, like you were going to make ginger chips.
Peel your potatoes and cut them into smallish cubes (size of your lamb cubes or smaller)
Open the can of crushed tomatoes
Rip off a handful of cilantro
...and then...
Dump a tablespoon or two of ghee into a Large Pan. I like to use my dutch oven. Let it get good and heated under medium heat...
Toss the onion and ginger into the Pan, and cook until the onion is just barely getting brown and caramelized....
Toss in the potatoes, and stir them about until they just start to cook...
Toss in the bowl of tasty lamb in spice paste (pausing for a moment to let the smell blow your mind) and stir until the lamb begins to brown, as best you can (It's hard without a truly wide pan/pot to cook this in)...
Dump in the can of crushed tomatoes...
Dump in about a cup of water...
Throw in a dash of vinegar (for luck)...
Stir it up (using this opportunity to deglaze the bottom of the pan a little bit and scrape all that good burnt onion and ginger goodness that's bound to be there up into the mix), bring it to a boil, then reduce to a nice bubby simmer, and cook for about 2 hours, stirring occasionally (make sure to scrape the spice that accumulates on the side of the pan back down into the mix, as well as continuing to scrap up any fond that forms on the bottom of the pan)...
Taste it periodically. You'll know it's ready when a) It tastes fucking amazing and b) Most of the water has cooked off and it's starting to take on a thick, gravy-like texture. Toss that handful of Cilantro in, give it a stir, then go cook some rice to eat it on, serve and you're done. The Yogurt's for cutting the heat if it's too much to bear, and it also adds a delightful creaminess.
That's it! You made vindaloo! Good for you! You are special and loved!
This recipe will serve 4-6 people, unless they're fucking gluttons. If you're going to make it for more folks, just double everything, it's that easy. If you don't like it, go fuck yourself.
Cheers,
Eric
22 March 2010
18 March 2010
Random Shit: Pretty Princess Potatoes
I'm told my Mashed Fucking Potatoes recipe was mean and angry. So allow me to make up for it, you precious bundle of joy, you!
Skip to the store, and try very, very hard not to step on the swallows and butterflies flitting about on this beautiful, sunny day. Pat Mr. Moose on the head as he passes by, and giggle with glee as the the Otter brothers roughhouse in the parking lot.
When Farmer Brown and Smokey the Bear give you the all-clear, cross that final street filled with late-model Studebaker sedans in mint condition and enter the store. Head to the vegetable section and grab some new potatoes. Wait, I forgot! Friendly, furry frank the ferret has a vegetable garden in the woods behind your home, and he'll happily ask Otto the Owl to fly a few taters up to your windowsill at any time. While he's at it, ask him if he wouldn't mind letting you have some fresh rosemary, sage and basil.
Now, for the easy peasy part, the cooking! Remember, kids, the oven can get very, very hot, so be careful! Always have an adult handy, and ask before you use the stove, or sharp knives. Those fingers won't grow back on their own, you know! You'd have to use magic fairy dust, and that isn't cheap!
...
...yeah, enough of that, let's just get this over with:
Ok, cut the potatoes up. If you use new/fingerling potatoes, just quarter them. If you're using full-sized potatoes, you'll need to do a little more cutting.
Put the potatoes in a bowl, and set them aside.
Take your fresh Herbs and mince up enough so that you have a good-sized adult handful when you're done.
Drizzle about a tablespoon of olive oil over the potatoes.
Toss your Herbs on the potatoes, then mix em up good, so that they all have some herb coating. Use your hands, it's fun! Don't forget to wash them, though!
Preheat the oven to 425 degrees Fahrenheit.
Cover a cookie sheet with foil (optional, but it makes cleanup easier).
Dump the herbed potato pieces onto the cookie sheet, sprinkle liberally with salt and pepper, give it one last good toss by hand, then toss it in the oven for about 20 minutes, or until the potatoes are fork-tender.
The herbs, by the way, are optional, this works great with just salt and pepper.
Cheers,
Eric
Skip to the store, and try very, very hard not to step on the swallows and butterflies flitting about on this beautiful, sunny day. Pat Mr. Moose on the head as he passes by, and giggle with glee as the the Otter brothers roughhouse in the parking lot.
When Farmer Brown and Smokey the Bear give you the all-clear, cross that final street filled with late-model Studebaker sedans in mint condition and enter the store. Head to the vegetable section and grab some new potatoes. Wait, I forgot! Friendly, furry frank the ferret has a vegetable garden in the woods behind your home, and he'll happily ask Otto the Owl to fly a few taters up to your windowsill at any time. While he's at it, ask him if he wouldn't mind letting you have some fresh rosemary, sage and basil.
Now, for the easy peasy part, the cooking! Remember, kids, the oven can get very, very hot, so be careful! Always have an adult handy, and ask before you use the stove, or sharp knives. Those fingers won't grow back on their own, you know! You'd have to use magic fairy dust, and that isn't cheap!
...
...yeah, enough of that, let's just get this over with:
Ok, cut the potatoes up. If you use new/fingerling potatoes, just quarter them. If you're using full-sized potatoes, you'll need to do a little more cutting.
Put the potatoes in a bowl, and set them aside.
Take your fresh Herbs and mince up enough so that you have a good-sized adult handful when you're done.
Drizzle about a tablespoon of olive oil over the potatoes.
Toss your Herbs on the potatoes, then mix em up good, so that they all have some herb coating. Use your hands, it's fun! Don't forget to wash them, though!
Preheat the oven to 425 degrees Fahrenheit.
Cover a cookie sheet with foil (optional, but it makes cleanup easier).
Dump the herbed potato pieces onto the cookie sheet, sprinkle liberally with salt and pepper, give it one last good toss by hand, then toss it in the oven for about 20 minutes, or until the potatoes are fork-tender.
The herbs, by the way, are optional, this works great with just salt and pepper.
Cheers,
Eric
Random Shit: Mashed Fucking potatoes
So... I'm working on making Osso Bucco palatable for you cultureless fucks. And it occurs to me that a critical ingredient -- Garlic Mashed Potatoes -- is probably beyond your neanderthal-esque cognitive abilites. So let me break this shit down for you:
Drag your fat ass to the store (really, any store will do, 'cause this shit ain't hard or obscure), and buy:
4-6 good sized russet potatoes.
1 pkg unsalted butter (you heathen cock-munch)
a bulb of garlic, if you don't have any in your house.
Some type of arrangement whereby fresh water is pumped into your living space.
Ok. Got that shit? I should hope so, because already I'm embarrassed to know you. And away we go:
1. Boil the fucking potatoes and mince that garlic.
This step shouldn't be hard. Peel the potatoes (fuck, you can leave the skins on for all I care) and turn the dial under a full pot of water to "Light", then "Hi". Now dump a pinch of salt in the water and wait for it to boil. Now put the potatoes in, you fucking paedophile.
2. Wait for the potatoes to finish cooking.
This is easy, too. Assume ~1 hour for peeled potatoes. If you're impatient, stick a fucking fork in them to check their status. If the fork goes in easy, like the potato is a clueless undergrad, CONGRATUFUCKINGLATIONS, you've avoided a sexual assault charge by sticking your phallic substitute into a potato, rather than an underaged girl/boy. If the fork doesn't fulfill your needs, wait 15 minutes and try again. Also, please let the middle school lady out of the basement.
Also: While you're waiting for your sad life to boil over, mince the garlic and sautee it in preperation for step 3. Put the sauteed garlic in with the butter. Asshole.
3. Once the potatos are done: Fucking butter and cream that shit.
Don't fuck around. Put a solid tablespoon of butter, and a sold 1/2 - 1 cup of heavy cream in the potatoes, along with plenty of salt. "Oh no, but I'm on a diet!" Well, then go to hardee's, buy a plain baked potato, and eat it with no condiments. No? That sucks? Well, welcome to the rest of your life, A-Queen. Seriously, though: Salt and Pepper the potatoes, put in butter and cream, and stir until it is light and fluffy. Put more butter/cream in if you have flaky potatoes -- the goal is light and fluffy-ness. If you're not into that, fine, just don't call me when the virginia cops put you in the hole for touching your mother inappropriately.
Cheers,
Eric
Drag your fat ass to the store (really, any store will do, 'cause this shit ain't hard or obscure), and buy:
4-6 good sized russet potatoes.
1 pkg unsalted butter (you heathen cock-munch)
a bulb of garlic, if you don't have any in your house.
Some type of arrangement whereby fresh water is pumped into your living space.
Ok. Got that shit? I should hope so, because already I'm embarrassed to know you. And away we go:
1. Boil the fucking potatoes and mince that garlic.
This step shouldn't be hard. Peel the potatoes (fuck, you can leave the skins on for all I care) and turn the dial under a full pot of water to "Light", then "Hi". Now dump a pinch of salt in the water and wait for it to boil. Now put the potatoes in, you fucking paedophile.
2. Wait for the potatoes to finish cooking.
This is easy, too. Assume ~1 hour for peeled potatoes. If you're impatient, stick a fucking fork in them to check their status. If the fork goes in easy, like the potato is a clueless undergrad, CONGRATUFUCKINGLATIONS, you've avoided a sexual assault charge by sticking your phallic substitute into a potato, rather than an underaged girl/boy. If the fork doesn't fulfill your needs, wait 15 minutes and try again. Also, please let the middle school lady out of the basement.
Also: While you're waiting for your sad life to boil over, mince the garlic and sautee it in preperation for step 3. Put the sauteed garlic in with the butter. Asshole.
3. Once the potatos are done: Fucking butter and cream that shit.
Don't fuck around. Put a solid tablespoon of butter, and a sold 1/2 - 1 cup of heavy cream in the potatoes, along with plenty of salt. "Oh no, but I'm on a diet!" Well, then go to hardee's, buy a plain baked potato, and eat it with no condiments. No? That sucks? Well, welcome to the rest of your life, A-Queen. Seriously, though: Salt and Pepper the potatoes, put in butter and cream, and stir until it is light and fluffy. Put more butter/cream in if you have flaky potatoes -- the goal is light and fluffy-ness. If you're not into that, fine, just don't call me when the virginia cops put you in the hole for touching your mother inappropriately.
Cheers,
Eric
15 March 2010
Episode 2: Steak Au Poivre
This recipe originally appeared on my facebook page as "Eric is bored at work, so here's a recipe for some random shit. Episode 2: Steak Au Poivre"
Today, ladies and gents, I'm going to esplain to you how to make Steak Au Poivre -- "Steak with Pepper" for you uneducated fucks out there. Obviously, this is not a vegetarian dish. If you have come to my wall looking for a vegetarian recipe, then I apologize, I was obviously drunk when I accepted your internet friendship. You do not want to be my friend. Ask Alex.
Steak au Poivre is a very rich dish, involving tasty steak and a creamy pepper sauce that is, well, awesome. It isn't that cheap to make, due to the whole "this dish requires steak" thing. And even though there is a sauce involved, please don't do yourself the disservice of buying a crappy steak, hoping the sauce will make up for it. It will, but that's not the point. This is a "special occasion" dish, so make it fucking special.
While technically, you could cook the steak on the grill and make the sauce separately, it wouldn't be anywhere near as good, so we're going to do this the correct way, by cooking it on the stove. I'm going to assume you know how to cook steak Indoors, in a pan. If you do not know how to do this properly you will fuck this recipe up...
Right, good point:
How to cook steak on the stove in 6 easy steps.
1. Get a heavy damn pan -- Cast Iron, typically, but a good, heavy saucepan will work.
2. Heat the pan on medium-high heat for at least 5 minutes.
3. Put lubricant in the pan. That means butter and/or olive oil you sick fuck.
4. Place steak in the pan, DO NOT touch it for at least 2 fucking minutes (typically the minimum time to rare for your average inch-thick steak). There will be some smoke, deal with it.
5. Flip the steak in the pan, then let it cook on that side for the SAME amount of time as the other side.
6. Put the steak on a plate, and let it rest for at least 5 minutes before eating, you impatient fuck.
Simple, right? Now go buy some cheap steaks and try that out a few times, get the feel for it. There are rules about timing for doneness, but it's going to vary based on your stove and the thickness of the steaks you cook. The best way to learn how to get your steak to just the right state is to practice and learn your stove. The meat also changes texture based on doneness and you can tell this by pressing on the steak while it is cooking, but I don't know how to explain it without actually poking a steak in person for you. Google it or something.
For this recipe, since we're making a pan sauce, you do not want to use a cast iron skillet. Generally that's the best type of pan for cooking a steak on the stove, but here we want fond and tastiness, and that's going to turn out better using a traditional sauce pan. Heavy, though. They key to cooking the steak right is a pan that holds heat well. I actually like using my dutch oven for this, for just that reason. Also, and this is key: Do not use a non-stick pan. You want to get lots of browned crap on the bottom of the saucepan as the basis for the sauce (that's what fond is, if I didn't explain it before), and a non-stick pan will defy you willfully as you attempt to create ze fond.
Ok, ingredients:
1 small-medium Onion
1 small shallot
2-3 cloves of garlic
A cup or two of heavy cream
butter (unsalted, you heathen)
cognac
salt (kosher)
black peppercorns (more on these in a moment)
Steak
A word on your choice of steak: I don't care. I really don't. I've already suggested you not use cheap steak, but beyond that, totally your choice. Traditionally this dish is often made with Filet MIgnon. Personally, I prefer Ribeye. Does. Not. Make. A. Fucking. Difference. Get the steak you like, with one caveat: I do suggest using cuts of an appropriate size such that you can fit two of them in the pan at once, with room to work. We're making steak for two. Sure, you can make just one big steak for yourself, but do you really want to die alone?
First things first, take the steaks out of the refrigerator, open up the wrapping, and let them sit on the counter and warm up. You don't ever want to put cold steaks on the grill, or your frying pan, or whatever. Wastes heat. Causes the steak to take longer to cook and cook unevenly. Ok, truthfully, most people would never notice, but I do, so do it fucking right.
Once the steaks are warmed up a bit, liberally salt them on both sides. With kosher salt. I suggest kosher salt for a reason, you know. The larger grains stick to the meat well, it has got a better texture and I'm pretty sure the tribe doesn't put iodine in it.
Assuming you have a pepper mill, set it to its coarsest setting and crack a whole bunch of pepper. You want "cracked peppercorns", rather than "ground pepper". So, if your pepper mill doesn't have a truly coarse setting, consider alternative methods. For example, you could grab that iron skillet you aren't using, toss a tea towel on it, put a few tablespoons of peppercorns on the tea towel, fold it over, grab a coffee mug, fill it with change, and then crush/crack those peppercorns by hand.
Start spreading the peppercorns over the steak. You want a lot of coverage, really try to get as much to stick as possible, both sides of the steak, and the edges. Press those cracked peppercorns into the meat. Next you should probably grab a broom and sweep up the peppercorns that are going to be all over your kitchen floor.
Your steaks are prepped, so grab your saucepan and start heating it up. Toss about a tablespoon of butter in there, with just a dash of olive oil. The butter is a little lubricant, and the olive oil keeps it from smoking too much. Don't use extra virgin olive oil, as it has a much lower smoking point and it won't help as much. Once your pan is all heated, the butter is bubblin (and smoking, let's face it, it's going to smoke a little no matter what you do), put your steaks in!
I'd like to stress something for you: Do not touch the steaks until you are ready to turn them over. If you shift them around, then you're not going to get that delightful crust, because it will break off. Just leave it there. After the appropriate amount of time, flip em over. You should have learned by now how long to cook steak on your stove, but as a general rule, five minutes per side will get you medium-rare to medium. It's also important to remember that the fattier the cut of meat, the happier it is with being more "done". Well-done is always a sin, but a Ribeye won't mind being cooked on the well side of medium, whereas a Filet or a lean Strip is going to start getting tough once it gets past medium-rare.
While the steaks are on the stove, take this opportunity to mince the onion, shallot, and those cloves of garlic as fine as you can.
Once the steaks are done, take them out of the pan and put them on a plate. Tent the plate loosely with aluminum foil. The first time you make this it will probably take you 15-20 minutes or more to get the sauce right, so use whatever "keeping the steak warm" method works best for you.
Grab a spoon, and spoon out most of the liquid remaining from cooking the steak. Dump it into the sink, we're just getting rid of unneeded juice. Now the fun part. Turn off the heat and pour about 3/4 of a cup of cognac into the pan. Then, take a kitchen match and set the cognac on fire. Oh yeah, it's like that. Once the flames die down, return the pan to medium heat and take your spatula or spoon and start de-glazing the pan. All that fond tastiness on the bottom of the pan makes the sauce oh so good. Note that technically, the cognac flavor will be covered when you add a dash later on, so if you don't want to take this step you don't have to, as the moisture from the onions will most likely be enough to deglaze the pan. However, your fire alarm is probably already going off, so why not create an actual fire?
Toss half a tablespoon of butter into the pan and as soon as it melts put in your onion, shallot and garlic. The moisture from the onion will help you finish deglazing if the cognac didn't do it completely. Once your onion and garlic turn translucent and start to brown, reduce the heat, pour in your heavy cream, and add another dash of cognac. Tip the plate the steaks have been resting on over the pan to get all those sweet meat juices in there. Now that I'm thinking about it, you might want to reserve the liquid you tossed out earlier so you can put it in at this point. But it's probably too late, so bygones.
Now just keep stirring the sauce until it thickens enough to coat the back of a spoon. Be careful with the heat, too much and the cream will curdle or burn, too little and it won't reduce quickly. Add another tablespoon of butter, stir until it incorporates and the sauce gets all shiny.
Optionally, if you want to be all fancy and french, you can grab a strainer and strain your sauce to remove all the bits of onion, garlic and pepper. Return it to the pan. I like the little bits of stuff in the sauce, but hey, it's your sauce now, make it how you like it!
At this point, take your steaks and just set them in the sauce pan (still under heat) for about 30 seconds, flip em for another 30 seconds, then plate them. This gives the steaks a little warm-up, and also gets some more flavor in the sauce. Stir the sauce up good one more time, taste it, add a little salt or pepper if needed, and then pour over the steak. Voila! Steak Au Poivre.
I suggest mashed potatoes as a side, because you will have extra sauce, and it tastes really good on mashed potatoes.
Today, ladies and gents, I'm going to esplain to you how to make Steak Au Poivre -- "Steak with Pepper" for you uneducated fucks out there. Obviously, this is not a vegetarian dish. If you have come to my wall looking for a vegetarian recipe, then I apologize, I was obviously drunk when I accepted your internet friendship. You do not want to be my friend. Ask Alex.
Steak au Poivre is a very rich dish, involving tasty steak and a creamy pepper sauce that is, well, awesome. It isn't that cheap to make, due to the whole "this dish requires steak" thing. And even though there is a sauce involved, please don't do yourself the disservice of buying a crappy steak, hoping the sauce will make up for it. It will, but that's not the point. This is a "special occasion" dish, so make it fucking special.
While technically, you could cook the steak on the grill and make the sauce separately, it wouldn't be anywhere near as good, so we're going to do this the correct way, by cooking it on the stove. I'm going to assume you know how to cook steak Indoors, in a pan. If you do not know how to do this properly you will fuck this recipe up...
Right, good point:
How to cook steak on the stove in 6 easy steps.
1. Get a heavy damn pan -- Cast Iron, typically, but a good, heavy saucepan will work.
2. Heat the pan on medium-high heat for at least 5 minutes.
3. Put lubricant in the pan. That means butter and/or olive oil you sick fuck.
4. Place steak in the pan, DO NOT touch it for at least 2 fucking minutes (typically the minimum time to rare for your average inch-thick steak). There will be some smoke, deal with it.
5. Flip the steak in the pan, then let it cook on that side for the SAME amount of time as the other side.
6. Put the steak on a plate, and let it rest for at least 5 minutes before eating, you impatient fuck.
Simple, right? Now go buy some cheap steaks and try that out a few times, get the feel for it. There are rules about timing for doneness, but it's going to vary based on your stove and the thickness of the steaks you cook. The best way to learn how to get your steak to just the right state is to practice and learn your stove. The meat also changes texture based on doneness and you can tell this by pressing on the steak while it is cooking, but I don't know how to explain it without actually poking a steak in person for you. Google it or something.
For this recipe, since we're making a pan sauce, you do not want to use a cast iron skillet. Generally that's the best type of pan for cooking a steak on the stove, but here we want fond and tastiness, and that's going to turn out better using a traditional sauce pan. Heavy, though. They key to cooking the steak right is a pan that holds heat well. I actually like using my dutch oven for this, for just that reason. Also, and this is key: Do not use a non-stick pan. You want to get lots of browned crap on the bottom of the saucepan as the basis for the sauce (that's what fond is, if I didn't explain it before), and a non-stick pan will defy you willfully as you attempt to create ze fond.
Ok, ingredients:
1 small-medium Onion
1 small shallot
2-3 cloves of garlic
A cup or two of heavy cream
butter (unsalted, you heathen)
cognac
salt (kosher)
black peppercorns (more on these in a moment)
Steak
A word on your choice of steak: I don't care. I really don't. I've already suggested you not use cheap steak, but beyond that, totally your choice. Traditionally this dish is often made with Filet MIgnon. Personally, I prefer Ribeye. Does. Not. Make. A. Fucking. Difference. Get the steak you like, with one caveat: I do suggest using cuts of an appropriate size such that you can fit two of them in the pan at once, with room to work. We're making steak for two. Sure, you can make just one big steak for yourself, but do you really want to die alone?
First things first, take the steaks out of the refrigerator, open up the wrapping, and let them sit on the counter and warm up. You don't ever want to put cold steaks on the grill, or your frying pan, or whatever. Wastes heat. Causes the steak to take longer to cook and cook unevenly. Ok, truthfully, most people would never notice, but I do, so do it fucking right.
Once the steaks are warmed up a bit, liberally salt them on both sides. With kosher salt. I suggest kosher salt for a reason, you know. The larger grains stick to the meat well, it has got a better texture and I'm pretty sure the tribe doesn't put iodine in it.
Assuming you have a pepper mill, set it to its coarsest setting and crack a whole bunch of pepper. You want "cracked peppercorns", rather than "ground pepper". So, if your pepper mill doesn't have a truly coarse setting, consider alternative methods. For example, you could grab that iron skillet you aren't using, toss a tea towel on it, put a few tablespoons of peppercorns on the tea towel, fold it over, grab a coffee mug, fill it with change, and then crush/crack those peppercorns by hand.
Start spreading the peppercorns over the steak. You want a lot of coverage, really try to get as much to stick as possible, both sides of the steak, and the edges. Press those cracked peppercorns into the meat. Next you should probably grab a broom and sweep up the peppercorns that are going to be all over your kitchen floor.
Your steaks are prepped, so grab your saucepan and start heating it up. Toss about a tablespoon of butter in there, with just a dash of olive oil. The butter is a little lubricant, and the olive oil keeps it from smoking too much. Don't use extra virgin olive oil, as it has a much lower smoking point and it won't help as much. Once your pan is all heated, the butter is bubblin (and smoking, let's face it, it's going to smoke a little no matter what you do), put your steaks in!
I'd like to stress something for you: Do not touch the steaks until you are ready to turn them over. If you shift them around, then you're not going to get that delightful crust, because it will break off. Just leave it there. After the appropriate amount of time, flip em over. You should have learned by now how long to cook steak on your stove, but as a general rule, five minutes per side will get you medium-rare to medium. It's also important to remember that the fattier the cut of meat, the happier it is with being more "done". Well-done is always a sin, but a Ribeye won't mind being cooked on the well side of medium, whereas a Filet or a lean Strip is going to start getting tough once it gets past medium-rare.
While the steaks are on the stove, take this opportunity to mince the onion, shallot, and those cloves of garlic as fine as you can.
Once the steaks are done, take them out of the pan and put them on a plate. Tent the plate loosely with aluminum foil. The first time you make this it will probably take you 15-20 minutes or more to get the sauce right, so use whatever "keeping the steak warm" method works best for you.
Grab a spoon, and spoon out most of the liquid remaining from cooking the steak. Dump it into the sink, we're just getting rid of unneeded juice. Now the fun part. Turn off the heat and pour about 3/4 of a cup of cognac into the pan. Then, take a kitchen match and set the cognac on fire. Oh yeah, it's like that. Once the flames die down, return the pan to medium heat and take your spatula or spoon and start de-glazing the pan. All that fond tastiness on the bottom of the pan makes the sauce oh so good. Note that technically, the cognac flavor will be covered when you add a dash later on, so if you don't want to take this step you don't have to, as the moisture from the onions will most likely be enough to deglaze the pan. However, your fire alarm is probably already going off, so why not create an actual fire?
Toss half a tablespoon of butter into the pan and as soon as it melts put in your onion, shallot and garlic. The moisture from the onion will help you finish deglazing if the cognac didn't do it completely. Once your onion and garlic turn translucent and start to brown, reduce the heat, pour in your heavy cream, and add another dash of cognac. Tip the plate the steaks have been resting on over the pan to get all those sweet meat juices in there. Now that I'm thinking about it, you might want to reserve the liquid you tossed out earlier so you can put it in at this point. But it's probably too late, so bygones.
Now just keep stirring the sauce until it thickens enough to coat the back of a spoon. Be careful with the heat, too much and the cream will curdle or burn, too little and it won't reduce quickly. Add another tablespoon of butter, stir until it incorporates and the sauce gets all shiny.
Optionally, if you want to be all fancy and french, you can grab a strainer and strain your sauce to remove all the bits of onion, garlic and pepper. Return it to the pan. I like the little bits of stuff in the sauce, but hey, it's your sauce now, make it how you like it!
At this point, take your steaks and just set them in the sauce pan (still under heat) for about 30 seconds, flip em for another 30 seconds, then plate them. This gives the steaks a little warm-up, and also gets some more flavor in the sauce. Stir the sauce up good one more time, taste it, add a little salt or pepper if needed, and then pour over the steak. Voila! Steak Au Poivre.
I suggest mashed potatoes as a side, because you will have extra sauce, and it tastes really good on mashed potatoes.
12 March 2010
"The Hard Way"
It occurs to me that anyone reading this who doesn't actually know me personally (as if there were any of those people, but still, it's an excuse to write) might not be quite sure what I'm referring to when I mention that a recipe concerns doing something "the hard way".
In essence, I mean that while there are probably easier ways to make a certain dish, I like doing them the harder way. View "the hard way" in this context as a synonym for "the old fashioned way", or "the long way", or "the not purchasing anything pre-done way", etc. I think cooking is fun, and I enjoy the whole process of taking the basic ingredients and building them up into more complex food products until BOOM, you end up with something good.
For example, the coq au vin recipe I put up could be simplified in a lot of ways. Big way #1: Purchase your chicken pieces already butchered. Big way #2: Buy pre-made stock at the store. Big way #3: just cook the chicken through in the first place, and make the sauce/stew separately (which is how most of the recipes I found on the web when learning how to make it go about creating the dish).
Then there are all the little ways you can make it easier. Buy pre-minced garlic (I admit, I've done it before) or pre-chopped celery or carrots. Skip the addition of cognac. Don't sautee the pearl onions and mushrooms before you add them to the stew. There are lots of pretty common-sense shortcuts you can take that will save you time and still end up in a perfectly serviceable meal. If all you do is purchase pre-made stock and pre-butchered chicken pieces, you basically cut the time to make the dish down to a manageable 2-3 hours.
Then, of course, think of the waste! Odds are that you are not going to properly store the unused stock you made for later use. I know what you're thinking. You're thinking "But Eric, I recycle! I purchase dry groceries in bulk! I have reusable grocery bags! I'm a FREEGAN!" Bullshit. You know what you're going to do? You're going to take whatever is left in the stockpot at the end of the 6 hour cooking effort and you're going to toss it. Which is, let's admit, kind of a waste. Alternately, you WILL store it properly for later use (I find putting leftover stock in an icecube tray and freezing it a pretty neat method) but you won't ever actually use it, and it'll go bad and get wasted anyway.
So sure, you could make your life easier, save some of your valuable time, and probably be a little less wasteful by not doing things the hard way. Those are all good reasons to cook the easy way. However, I guarantee that the food won't taste as good, that you won't enjoy it as much, and you will feel like a cheap whore.
Now come back to my side of the fence for a minute. Think of the benefits of doing things the hard way. You're cooking something the way it was meant to be cooked, the way the folks who came up with it in the first place cooked it. There are tons of modern day cooking conveniences, and there is a time and a place to use them, but this ain't that time or place! These aren't recipes for things you're going to whip up on a Tuesday night just to fill your belly before crashing out when you have to be at work by 6am the next day. These are recipes for having your friends over or impressing your newly acquired lover, or convincing your parents that you do know how to take care of yourself. These are things you make when you have the boss over for dinner to try and talk them into a raise. These aren't dishes you can whip up in 30 minutes on a weeknight. You won't have "most of the ingredients lying around the house." Rachel Ray? That soulless wight wouldn't touch these recipes with an egg timer. This isn't even shit designed to help you keep a budget. I'll be frank, the first few recipes you'll see on this blog will cost you MORE to make at home than they probably cost on the menu of a nice restaurant.
The whole point of doing it the hard way is to step out from a hot, sweaty kitchen after hours of labor your grandpa would be proud of and bang your chest because you just kicked that food's ASS! To get back at all of the root tubers and fruits we call vegetables and odd, stringy pieces of animal flesh that mocked you and laughed at you behind your back in high school by enslaving them to your will to make something so tasty it cannot be denied! To go to a restaurant and know in your heart of hearts that you make that particular dish better, because you take the time and effort to do it right!
Although if you're eating at a place like Alinea, Trotter's, Moto, Fleur de Lils, or any of a number of fine restaurants whose chefs are the Bohrs and Fermis and Einsteins of the modern culinary arts... well... fuck you, you can't make that shit as good as they can.
BUT FOR FUCK'S SAKE, YOU HAD BETTER DAMN WELL TRY!
besides, the longer it takes to make, the longer you get to drink in the kitchen before dinner.
Cheers,
Eric
In essence, I mean that while there are probably easier ways to make a certain dish, I like doing them the harder way. View "the hard way" in this context as a synonym for "the old fashioned way", or "the long way", or "the not purchasing anything pre-done way", etc. I think cooking is fun, and I enjoy the whole process of taking the basic ingredients and building them up into more complex food products until BOOM, you end up with something good.
For example, the coq au vin recipe I put up could be simplified in a lot of ways. Big way #1: Purchase your chicken pieces already butchered. Big way #2: Buy pre-made stock at the store. Big way #3: just cook the chicken through in the first place, and make the sauce/stew separately (which is how most of the recipes I found on the web when learning how to make it go about creating the dish).
Then there are all the little ways you can make it easier. Buy pre-minced garlic (I admit, I've done it before) or pre-chopped celery or carrots. Skip the addition of cognac. Don't sautee the pearl onions and mushrooms before you add them to the stew. There are lots of pretty common-sense shortcuts you can take that will save you time and still end up in a perfectly serviceable meal. If all you do is purchase pre-made stock and pre-butchered chicken pieces, you basically cut the time to make the dish down to a manageable 2-3 hours.
Then, of course, think of the waste! Odds are that you are not going to properly store the unused stock you made for later use. I know what you're thinking. You're thinking "But Eric, I recycle! I purchase dry groceries in bulk! I have reusable grocery bags! I'm a FREEGAN!" Bullshit. You know what you're going to do? You're going to take whatever is left in the stockpot at the end of the 6 hour cooking effort and you're going to toss it. Which is, let's admit, kind of a waste. Alternately, you WILL store it properly for later use (I find putting leftover stock in an icecube tray and freezing it a pretty neat method) but you won't ever actually use it, and it'll go bad and get wasted anyway.
So sure, you could make your life easier, save some of your valuable time, and probably be a little less wasteful by not doing things the hard way. Those are all good reasons to cook the easy way. However, I guarantee that the food won't taste as good, that you won't enjoy it as much, and you will feel like a cheap whore.
Now come back to my side of the fence for a minute. Think of the benefits of doing things the hard way. You're cooking something the way it was meant to be cooked, the way the folks who came up with it in the first place cooked it. There are tons of modern day cooking conveniences, and there is a time and a place to use them, but this ain't that time or place! These aren't recipes for things you're going to whip up on a Tuesday night just to fill your belly before crashing out when you have to be at work by 6am the next day. These are recipes for having your friends over or impressing your newly acquired lover, or convincing your parents that you do know how to take care of yourself. These are things you make when you have the boss over for dinner to try and talk them into a raise. These aren't dishes you can whip up in 30 minutes on a weeknight. You won't have "most of the ingredients lying around the house." Rachel Ray? That soulless wight wouldn't touch these recipes with an egg timer. This isn't even shit designed to help you keep a budget. I'll be frank, the first few recipes you'll see on this blog will cost you MORE to make at home than they probably cost on the menu of a nice restaurant.
The whole point of doing it the hard way is to step out from a hot, sweaty kitchen after hours of labor your grandpa would be proud of and bang your chest because you just kicked that food's ASS! To get back at all of the root tubers and fruits we call vegetables and odd, stringy pieces of animal flesh that mocked you and laughed at you behind your back in high school by enslaving them to your will to make something so tasty it cannot be denied! To go to a restaurant and know in your heart of hearts that you make that particular dish better, because you take the time and effort to do it right!
Although if you're eating at a place like Alinea, Trotter's, Moto, Fleur de Lils, or any of a number of fine restaurants whose chefs are the Bohrs and Fermis and Einsteins of the modern culinary arts... well... fuck you, you can't make that shit as good as they can.
BUT FOR FUCK'S SAKE, YOU HAD BETTER DAMN WELL TRY!
besides, the longer it takes to make, the longer you get to drink in the kitchen before dinner.
Cheers,
Eric
Welcome
Alexis (who is far younger and hipper than I) suggested via Chaz that I take the recipes I have been putting out as notes on Facebook and compile them in one location for folks to read. Since I like to cook and learn how to make new things, but also am lazy and tend to procrastinate, it occurred to me that this would be a great way to push myself to keep trying new things on a continuous basis.
So, welcome to "Recipes for Random Shit", formerly known elsewhere as "Eric is bored at work and is going to share his recipe for some random shit." Episode 1, already up, is my version of Coq Au Vin, done "the hard way." Next time I make it I'll take some photos at various steps and update the recipe with a little Audio Visual goodness.
This recipe, as well as the next two I'll post (look for updates weekly, if I can keep my shit together), was compiled some time ago after having to write up the process (as noted in the recipe) for my friend Amanda. Next week, we'll be covering Steak Au Poivre, and the following week will fly through India, which is where we might be staying for a while, based on the long list of curry dishes I have a strong desire to cook in the coming weeks.
Hope you enjoy it, comments are enabled, so please toss any suggestions, requests, or links to porn sites in at your leisure.
Cheers,
Eric
So, welcome to "Recipes for Random Shit", formerly known elsewhere as "Eric is bored at work and is going to share his recipe for some random shit." Episode 1, already up, is my version of Coq Au Vin, done "the hard way." Next time I make it I'll take some photos at various steps and update the recipe with a little Audio Visual goodness.
This recipe, as well as the next two I'll post (look for updates weekly, if I can keep my shit together), was compiled some time ago after having to write up the process (as noted in the recipe) for my friend Amanda. Next week, we'll be covering Steak Au Poivre, and the following week will fly through India, which is where we might be staying for a while, based on the long list of curry dishes I have a strong desire to cook in the coming weeks.
Hope you enjoy it, comments are enabled, so please toss any suggestions, requests, or links to porn sites in at your leisure.
Cheers,
Eric
Episode 1: Coq Au Vin
This recipe originally appeared on my facebook page as "Eric is bored at work, so here's a recipe for some random shit. Episode 1: Coq Au Vin"
Someone was asking me about this the other day, but I forget who. Also, cortney at one point suggested I write crap about food, and I'm bored and trying to stay awake at work waiting for a DBA to get his shit together. So here goes, the first entry in what may or may not be an ongoing series (depending on how many of my recipes I can remember sober)
Coq au Vin, if ya don't know, is a traditional french stew. "Rooster with wine", literally. Apparently back in the day the french peasants would get hungry, all the hens would be dead from the plague or un-slaughterable 'cause they were egg-laying, and so they would go grab the old rooster from the yard and eat his ornery ass. Since the rooster was typically a) old, b) lacking the fat of the younger chickens and c) full of spite they stewed it for a long time in wine to soften up the meat. I don't know where to buy rooster these days (actually, that's a lie, fox and obel will order it special for you, but that's pointlessly expensive) so I make this shit with regular old hen. It's good, doesn't taste the way you expect it to if you just think "chicken" and "wine" and combine the flavors in your head, and is best made in a stupidly labor intensive way, as you have an excuse to drink red wine for hours and butcher meat.
This is an adaptation of a recipe I put together for Amanda a year or so ago, edited with an eye towards doing it the "right" (read: hard) way, and updated with some changes learned through practice. I was going to put in some notes on how to make it in a more "quick and dirty" fashion, but fuck that. Make it once the hard way and the easy way (short version: buy chicken pieces instead of whole, and buy pre-made stock) should be obvious.
Here we go, first, ze materials:
A Bottle of red wine. Don't skimp on the wine, it's half the point of the dish, and using $4 hooch will get you less than optimal results. I like to use Rex Goliath 47 lb Rooster Pinot Noir for what should be an exceedingly obvious reason, but any full-bodied red will do.
Another bottle of wine, for drinkin. Cheap hooch is perfectly acceptable in this case. Hell, buy a box of franzia. I don't care.
One 5ish-lb chicken. I've tried both roaster and fryer versions, didn't really make a difference, just don't use one of those perdue frankenbirds, they are completely tasteless.
A pack of thick-sliced bacon, I prefer the non-smoked kind for this recipe, but whatever man, you're doing the work.
Veggie wise, you should pick up: 4-6 celery ribs, 1 bulb garlic, 2 large yellow or vidalia (sweet) onions, 4-6 carrots, fresh thyme, bay leaves, 1 medium shallot, 1 Pkg pearl onions (once peeled, should fill a cereal bowl, and no, the color doesn't matter), 2-3 of those 8oz plastic containers of mushrooms. Try to avoid the "generic mushroom" if you can. Crimini (baby bella) are great, shitake are great too, so are oyster. I usually get one pack of each, but if you're not big on mushrooms or like a certain kind go to town. I would suggest avoiding using 24oz of oyster mushrooms, it can give the dish a wierd fish-like flavor.
As in all tasty things, you will also require salt, pepper, and a bunch of unsalted butter.
Ok, pour yourself a glass of wine, get in the kitchen, and let's start...
About 6ish hours before dinner butcher your chicken. Yes, six hours. This is "the hard way", remember? Give yourself the extra time if you've never butchered a chicken before and are nervous. Pro tip: The ribcage should NOT be attached to the breasts when you are done. You want to separate the wings, the legs, the thighs, and the breasts. Set em aside. Mince the shit out of that shallot, set aside. Peel and chop half of your carrots (set aside), and wash and chop half of your celery ribs (set..... aside?). Quarter one of your onions, and roughly chop the other (set over yonder). At some point, you need to wash your mushrooms and peel your pearl onions. You can blanch them (the onions), but I find doing it by hand without blanching builds character.
Take the carcass of the chicken, toss it on a baking sheet, and stick it in the oven under the broiler for about 20-30 minutes to brown the bones. Dump the carcass and whatever juice is on the pan into a large cookpot. Grab the giblets and neck and put those in as well. Toss in the quartered onion. Snap the other half of your celery stickes in half and toss those in. Peel your remaining carrots, chop em into halves or quarters, and toss those in. Peel five or six cloves of garlic and put those in the pot as well, along with a few sprigs of thyme, a couple bay leaves, some parsley (if you've got it lying around) and a generous pinch or two of salt and pepper. Fill the pot with water, bring to a boil, then reduce heat to a rolling simmer, and ignore. You're making stock, basically, so if you know how to do that already, just ignore my instructions and roll with it.
Go to the liqour store and buy another bottle of wine, 'cause you and I both know that you've already finished off the drinkin bottle, and we need the other bottle of wine FOR THE DISH!
Now for the real cookin, which starts about Two and a half-ish hours before you want to eat. First, a word on pots. I don't know what kind of pots you have at home that will work for stew, but I recommend using a dutch-oven type thingy, if you've got one. If you don't, then any old stewpot will work, but try to avoid a nonstick pot, as you lose the crusty fond stuff that comes from these first couple of steps, and that lowers the deliciousness from 11 to 10.
Okay. First, toss the package of bacon into the freezer for about 10 minutes, then get out a big heavy knife and cut it in half. Put one half away for some other day, then chop the bacon into 1-inch squares. Put one and a half tablespoons of butter into your stewpot on low heat. Once it's melted and has stopped bubbling, crumble the bacon in and turn up the heat a little. Cook the bacon over medium heat, stirring occasionally, until it gets a nice golden brown color, but isn't quite crisp. Remove the bacon with a slotted spoon and set aside. You probably also want to grab a spoon and spoon off a couple of tablespoons of the bacon grease, but I leave that to you. Season your chicken pieces on both sides with salt and pepper. turn the heat to medium-high, until the bacon fat and butter are smoking. Cook the chicken in your stewpot, in the bacon and butter, until it is a honey-color, almost to the point you'd consider it "golden brown", but not yet "crispy". You want there to be little brown bits stuck to the bottom of the pan, but you are not trying to cook the chicken the whole way through. Flip and repeat until the other side is the same color. Remove the chicken and set aside. Repeat, as you probably can't do it all in one batch.
This next part is optional, but fun, especially after you've been drinking. If you're feeling frisky, once all the chicken is honey-colored on both sides, take the dutch oven off the heat, toss all the chicken and bacon bits back in, dump 1/2 a cup of cognac on that shit, set it on fire with a kitchen match, and then once you get the fire out, remove (once again) the chicken and the bacon.
Now we start adding vegetables. Dump in your minced shallot and chopped onion into the fat and butter left after cooking the chicken. Medium/Medium-High heat. Use the moisture from the onion to deglaze the pan, getting all the good fond bits up. Cook until the onion is translucent and beginning to brown.
And now we magically turn this whole thing into stew! Put the chicken and bacon back into the pot, try and arrange it so the chicken is all at the same height. Dump the entire bottle of wine into the pot. Yes. The entire bottle. Seriously. The whole damned thing. DUMP IT NOW!
Thank you. You can open a third drinkin bottle now if you would like.
Dump your chopped carrots into the pot. Turn up the heat to medium-high, until it starts to simmer. Now, remember that pot of dead chicken bones and water we started a while ago? Grab a ladle, and start ladling the boiling/simmering chicken stock over the contents of your stewpot until the chicken is completely covered with liquid. Add a dash of salt, a dash of pepper, stir it around a bit, and bring to a high simmer.
You can chill for about fifteen or twenty minutes now.
That's enough, time to go back to cooking.
Melt a couple of tablespoons of butter in a large saucepan. While your butter is melting, toss the chopped celery into the stew, stir it a bit, and reduce the simmer slightly.
Once the butter is melted, add your peeled pearl onions. Stir em around until they begin to turn golden, then dump in your mushrooms. Sprinkle about a tablespoon and a half of flour over the mushrooms and onions. Oh, did I forget to mention flour? Too fucking bad. It's a kitchen, it should have flour in it. Your kitchen doesn't have flour? Your grandmother must be so fucking proud of you. Stir regularly over medium heat until the mushrooms and onions are both golden and almost to the point of turning crispy, and the flour is cooked.
Dump those onions and mushrooms into the coq au vin orgy happening in the stewpot. Stir that shit.
All you have to do now is keep the mixture in the dutch oven at a good simmer until about 30 minutes before serving. Ideally, it's been 90-120 minutes since you finished adding chicken broth. You probably want to flip the chicken at some point. I don't know if it helps or not, but it makes me feel better, and this dish is all about feelings, right?
At that T-minus 30 mark, remove the chicken and set aside on the same plate you used before. Yes, the one that had half-cooked chicken on it. We're adding an element of danger and reducing our water consumption. Don't you care about the earth? No? Ok, then use a clean plate, earth raper. Turn up the heat on the contents of the stew pot a bit, back to a high simmer, and dump in any free juices on the bacon storage plate, or the chicken storage plate. Stir frequently and reduce. Once the sauce looks all velvety, coats a spoon, and tastes like you think it should, it's ready. Put a piece of chicken on a plate, ladle the reduced stew/sauce over it, and Salt and pepper to taste.
Congratulations, you've made Coq au Vin the hard way. I recommend serving with roasted potatoes, but that's your call. Also, I recommend seeing a doctor about your drinking problem.
Cheers!
Someone was asking me about this the other day, but I forget who. Also, cortney at one point suggested I write crap about food, and I'm bored and trying to stay awake at work waiting for a DBA to get his shit together. So here goes, the first entry in what may or may not be an ongoing series (depending on how many of my recipes I can remember sober)
Coq au Vin, if ya don't know, is a traditional french stew. "Rooster with wine", literally. Apparently back in the day the french peasants would get hungry, all the hens would be dead from the plague or un-slaughterable 'cause they were egg-laying, and so they would go grab the old rooster from the yard and eat his ornery ass. Since the rooster was typically a) old, b) lacking the fat of the younger chickens and c) full of spite they stewed it for a long time in wine to soften up the meat. I don't know where to buy rooster these days (actually, that's a lie, fox and obel will order it special for you, but that's pointlessly expensive) so I make this shit with regular old hen. It's good, doesn't taste the way you expect it to if you just think "chicken" and "wine" and combine the flavors in your head, and is best made in a stupidly labor intensive way, as you have an excuse to drink red wine for hours and butcher meat.
This is an adaptation of a recipe I put together for Amanda a year or so ago, edited with an eye towards doing it the "right" (read: hard) way, and updated with some changes learned through practice. I was going to put in some notes on how to make it in a more "quick and dirty" fashion, but fuck that. Make it once the hard way and the easy way (short version: buy chicken pieces instead of whole, and buy pre-made stock) should be obvious.
Here we go, first, ze materials:
A Bottle of red wine. Don't skimp on the wine, it's half the point of the dish, and using $4 hooch will get you less than optimal results. I like to use Rex Goliath 47 lb Rooster Pinot Noir for what should be an exceedingly obvious reason, but any full-bodied red will do.
Another bottle of wine, for drinkin. Cheap hooch is perfectly acceptable in this case. Hell, buy a box of franzia. I don't care.
One 5ish-lb chicken. I've tried both roaster and fryer versions, didn't really make a difference, just don't use one of those perdue frankenbirds, they are completely tasteless.
A pack of thick-sliced bacon, I prefer the non-smoked kind for this recipe, but whatever man, you're doing the work.
Veggie wise, you should pick up: 4-6 celery ribs, 1 bulb garlic, 2 large yellow or vidalia (sweet) onions, 4-6 carrots, fresh thyme, bay leaves, 1 medium shallot, 1 Pkg pearl onions (once peeled, should fill a cereal bowl, and no, the color doesn't matter), 2-3 of those 8oz plastic containers of mushrooms. Try to avoid the "generic mushroom" if you can. Crimini (baby bella) are great, shitake are great too, so are oyster. I usually get one pack of each, but if you're not big on mushrooms or like a certain kind go to town. I would suggest avoiding using 24oz of oyster mushrooms, it can give the dish a wierd fish-like flavor.
As in all tasty things, you will also require salt, pepper, and a bunch of unsalted butter.
Ok, pour yourself a glass of wine, get in the kitchen, and let's start...
About 6ish hours before dinner butcher your chicken. Yes, six hours. This is "the hard way", remember? Give yourself the extra time if you've never butchered a chicken before and are nervous. Pro tip: The ribcage should NOT be attached to the breasts when you are done. You want to separate the wings, the legs, the thighs, and the breasts. Set em aside. Mince the shit out of that shallot, set aside. Peel and chop half of your carrots (set aside), and wash and chop half of your celery ribs (set..... aside?). Quarter one of your onions, and roughly chop the other (set over yonder). At some point, you need to wash your mushrooms and peel your pearl onions. You can blanch them (the onions), but I find doing it by hand without blanching builds character.
Take the carcass of the chicken, toss it on a baking sheet, and stick it in the oven under the broiler for about 20-30 minutes to brown the bones. Dump the carcass and whatever juice is on the pan into a large cookpot. Grab the giblets and neck and put those in as well. Toss in the quartered onion. Snap the other half of your celery stickes in half and toss those in. Peel your remaining carrots, chop em into halves or quarters, and toss those in. Peel five or six cloves of garlic and put those in the pot as well, along with a few sprigs of thyme, a couple bay leaves, some parsley (if you've got it lying around) and a generous pinch or two of salt and pepper. Fill the pot with water, bring to a boil, then reduce heat to a rolling simmer, and ignore. You're making stock, basically, so if you know how to do that already, just ignore my instructions and roll with it.
Go to the liqour store and buy another bottle of wine, 'cause you and I both know that you've already finished off the drinkin bottle, and we need the other bottle of wine FOR THE DISH!
Now for the real cookin, which starts about Two and a half-ish hours before you want to eat. First, a word on pots. I don't know what kind of pots you have at home that will work for stew, but I recommend using a dutch-oven type thingy, if you've got one. If you don't, then any old stewpot will work, but try to avoid a nonstick pot, as you lose the crusty fond stuff that comes from these first couple of steps, and that lowers the deliciousness from 11 to 10.
Okay. First, toss the package of bacon into the freezer for about 10 minutes, then get out a big heavy knife and cut it in half. Put one half away for some other day, then chop the bacon into 1-inch squares. Put one and a half tablespoons of butter into your stewpot on low heat. Once it's melted and has stopped bubbling, crumble the bacon in and turn up the heat a little. Cook the bacon over medium heat, stirring occasionally, until it gets a nice golden brown color, but isn't quite crisp. Remove the bacon with a slotted spoon and set aside. You probably also want to grab a spoon and spoon off a couple of tablespoons of the bacon grease, but I leave that to you. Season your chicken pieces on both sides with salt and pepper. turn the heat to medium-high, until the bacon fat and butter are smoking. Cook the chicken in your stewpot, in the bacon and butter, until it is a honey-color, almost to the point you'd consider it "golden brown", but not yet "crispy". You want there to be little brown bits stuck to the bottom of the pan, but you are not trying to cook the chicken the whole way through. Flip and repeat until the other side is the same color. Remove the chicken and set aside. Repeat, as you probably can't do it all in one batch.
This next part is optional, but fun, especially after you've been drinking. If you're feeling frisky, once all the chicken is honey-colored on both sides, take the dutch oven off the heat, toss all the chicken and bacon bits back in, dump 1/2 a cup of cognac on that shit, set it on fire with a kitchen match, and then once you get the fire out, remove (once again) the chicken and the bacon.
Now we start adding vegetables. Dump in your minced shallot and chopped onion into the fat and butter left after cooking the chicken. Medium/Medium-High heat. Use the moisture from the onion to deglaze the pan, getting all the good fond bits up. Cook until the onion is translucent and beginning to brown.
And now we magically turn this whole thing into stew! Put the chicken and bacon back into the pot, try and arrange it so the chicken is all at the same height. Dump the entire bottle of wine into the pot. Yes. The entire bottle. Seriously. The whole damned thing. DUMP IT NOW!
Thank you. You can open a third drinkin bottle now if you would like.
Dump your chopped carrots into the pot. Turn up the heat to medium-high, until it starts to simmer. Now, remember that pot of dead chicken bones and water we started a while ago? Grab a ladle, and start ladling the boiling/simmering chicken stock over the contents of your stewpot until the chicken is completely covered with liquid. Add a dash of salt, a dash of pepper, stir it around a bit, and bring to a high simmer.
You can chill for about fifteen or twenty minutes now.
That's enough, time to go back to cooking.
Melt a couple of tablespoons of butter in a large saucepan. While your butter is melting, toss the chopped celery into the stew, stir it a bit, and reduce the simmer slightly.
Once the butter is melted, add your peeled pearl onions. Stir em around until they begin to turn golden, then dump in your mushrooms. Sprinkle about a tablespoon and a half of flour over the mushrooms and onions. Oh, did I forget to mention flour? Too fucking bad. It's a kitchen, it should have flour in it. Your kitchen doesn't have flour? Your grandmother must be so fucking proud of you. Stir regularly over medium heat until the mushrooms and onions are both golden and almost to the point of turning crispy, and the flour is cooked.
Dump those onions and mushrooms into the coq au vin orgy happening in the stewpot. Stir that shit.
All you have to do now is keep the mixture in the dutch oven at a good simmer until about 30 minutes before serving. Ideally, it's been 90-120 minutes since you finished adding chicken broth. You probably want to flip the chicken at some point. I don't know if it helps or not, but it makes me feel better, and this dish is all about feelings, right?
At that T-minus 30 mark, remove the chicken and set aside on the same plate you used before. Yes, the one that had half-cooked chicken on it. We're adding an element of danger and reducing our water consumption. Don't you care about the earth? No? Ok, then use a clean plate, earth raper. Turn up the heat on the contents of the stew pot a bit, back to a high simmer, and dump in any free juices on the bacon storage plate, or the chicken storage plate. Stir frequently and reduce. Once the sauce looks all velvety, coats a spoon, and tastes like you think it should, it's ready. Put a piece of chicken on a plate, ladle the reduced stew/sauce over it, and Salt and pepper to taste.
Congratulations, you've made Coq au Vin the hard way. I recommend serving with roasted potatoes, but that's your call. Also, I recommend seeing a doctor about your drinking problem.
Cheers!
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