Hesitant Italian

Like most people, I love Italian food. We love it because it's delicious, but also because lots of Italian dishes are very simple. Boiling pasta and warming up store bought sauce is about as easy and inexpensive as it gets. You can do dinner for 4 for under three bucks, which is obviously why it's a college staple. But 'easy and inexpensive' has always made ordering in Italian restaurants a bit of a struggle for me. I'm cheap. As a cheap person I have a problem paying $10-15 for pasta and sauce. Even something like chicken parmigiana is still just pasta and sauce with a piece of breaded chicken. I know, many restaurants make their sauces from scratch with fresh ingredients, but it's still just tomatoes, herbs, garlic, and other really inexpensive things. And I'm pretty sure pasta's just water, flour, and eggs.

So when I go to an Italian restaurant and I see the perfect chicken parm topped with gooey cheese delivered to the next table I think: Nice try. I look for things I rarely eat or never tried to make, and that means I'm ordering the scaloppini or the Chicken Francese or the mussels in garlic sherry, but it mostly means I'm getting the Marsala.

I love Marsala. Chicken, beef, veal, pork. I don't care, just slather it in mushrooms and that sauce. I always figured something so good would surely be outside my limited abilities. Then I found out I was wrong. If you care how I found out you can read about it here, but I'm moving on.

I’ve made it a handful of times, and most recently was last week. I walked out back to my 2’ x 6’ farm and picked a red and an orange bell pepper. I went back inside, handed them to Tammy, and said: “I’m making Chicken Marsala for dinner. Turn these into a side dish.”  She didn’t miss a beat flawlessly executing roasted pepper orzo. Leave a comment if you'd like the recipe.

Knowing she had her task under control I turned my attention to mine. My recipe for the dish came about from me doing my thing of reading how others made theirs, and then - after getting the gist of the dish - deciding how I would do it.

I pound chicken thin and dust it with flour seasoned with salt, pepper, and whatever else I feel like at the moment.  Then I saute' it on medium high to a golden brown in vegetable oil and butter (we always buy one of the fake 0 trans fat spreads, but get a stick of the real stuff for this). Remove the chicken and set aside.

Then I add sliced mushrooms to the pan and keep stirring until they release their liquids and have browned. Then add a cup of Marsala wine and boil on high until it reduces by half. Add a cup of chicken stock and keep boiling about 3 minutes or until the sauce is almost at the consistency you want.

Now return the chicken to the pan, and toss it in the sauce while you warm it through.  And as long as the butter's already out...

Easy, right?

Delicious, right?

Tailgating

I have a lot to be thankful for in my life. One thing for which I’m not so thankful is being from South Florida only because it means my favorite NFL team, through no fault of my own, is the Dolphins. Since masochism is apparently a hobby of mine, I’ve also had season tickets for about 15 years. In the mid 90’s things were different. Dan Marino was in his prime, the Dolphins were always a playoff contender, and about 15 of us caravanned down to tailgate together before games and to be extremely unsportsmanlike to opposing fans afterward. I had a full head of hair and a 34” waistline, too, so life was good.



That was a long time ago. The group of 15 has dwindled significantly. People got married. Married couples started families. People moved away. Marino retired. The last few years it’s been just 3 brave souls: Will Chupp, Tim Wheat, and me. Like the unpopular kid staring out the front window looking for people who have no intention of coming to his party, we have 4 seats together with the 4th for people we thought would be eager to join us. It can be a tough sell.


In 2007 the Dolphins went 1-15. We were there every week.  Except of course for the game they won. Yes, after sitting in the stands through 6 consecutive home losses as the Dolphins ran their record to 0-13, we couldn’t bring ourselves to make the December trip to the Baltimore game. But that’s okay. We gave our tickets to Tammy’s aunt and uncle and her mom, and they told us all about the dramatic victory. I watched the whole thing from the comfort of my couch right up until about a minute before the game-winning touchdown in overtime when my dog, Jim, decided to haul ass down the street with me behind him losing ground while calling him terrible names.


The thing about that season was we definitely kicked up our tailgating quite a bit. We decided if the play on the field wasn’t going to be very good, at least our food would be; though, sometimes watching the actual game made it difficult to keep it down. We developed a routine of emailing each other on the Monday morning following the latest loss to decide what to cook prior to the next game (i.e. loss). It’s gotten to the point where in June we’re talking about tailgate menus as much as the upcoming season, which is where this post comes in.


I had a craving for a Buffalo chicken sandwich, and I decided to do a grilled thigh version instead of a fried breast. Chicken thighs are freaking delicious. So I stopped at the store on the way home and bought thighs, wing sauce, buns, bleu cheese dressing, and some lettuce and tomato, as well as the most common wing accompaniments: carrot sticks and celery. I’m sure no one needed that shopping list, but it was only one sentence. I’m also sure no one needs instructions, but it should be noted that I bought enough wing sauce in which to marinate the chicken for an hour before grilling (overnight is better) and still have enough left over to drizzle on the sandwich with the bleu cheese dressing.  If you want to make your own wing sauce, traditionally it's equal parts hot sauce and butter.  Have at it.

Without further ado I give you Tammy's fantastic photography.

Yes, it tasted as good as it looks.

Pad Thai

A couple of weeks ago we were eating take-out Chinese, and Derek asks, "Why don't we ever make Chinese food?"  Now, my version of fried rice is part of the semi-regular rotation, as is Tammy's stir fry done in a wok.  Obviously, neither is authentic enough for him, so we were off on a new journey; one in which I would pick a dish, find a recipe, then shop, prep, cook, and serve proudly.  For his part, Derek would emerge from his room 10 or 15 minutes later, wolf it down, and when asked what he thought, respond that it was alright.  We're a good team like that.

I decided I would take this opportunity to learn how to make Pad Thai.  About a year ago, rather than follow a recipe like a normal person, I set out to create a dish based upon what I considered to be Asian staples, and I had a great time, but it kind of sucked.  Same for my Orange Chicken.  This time I was going to do it the right way like a normal person.  Or at least my version of normal, which meant I looked at several recipes until I felt I had the gist of the dish and then decided how I was going to do it. 

Here's your list of ingredients:

3 chicken breasts (typically I use 1 breast per person, but this recipe will easily serve 4 and/or yield leftovers unless you have really big eaters)

8 oz. package of Thai or Chinese noodles

3 TBSP soy sauce

4 cloves garlic or a spoonful or minced from a jar

2 cans bean sprouts drained

1 can water chestnuts drained

3 green onions sliced

1/3 cup of cashews crushed

1/4 cup chicken stock

1/8 tsp ground pepper 

Vegetable oil for stir-frying

(I decided not to use egg)

Here are some of the ingredients I use.

Cut the chicken into about 1 inch cubes and marinate it in 3 TBSP of your favorite soy sauce for as little as half an hour to a few hours.  Then bring a large pot of water to boil.  Now it's time to make the sauce:

3/4 TBSP tamarind paste dissolved in 1/4 cup warm water (I've substituted mango chutney)

2 TBSP fish sauce

1 TBSP chili sauce

3 TBSP brown sugar

1" ginger peeled and grated or minced or a little of each

Wisk the ingredients together in a bowl. 

 

We're getting to the point where things happen quickly.  For this reason, it's a good idea to crush the cashews and slice the green onions before you go on to the next steps.



If your water is boiling, it's time to get about a TBSP of oil going in your wok.  When the oil is hot add the garlic and then put the noodles in the boiling water and cook according to package instructions.  Mine said 4 minutes.  To clarify, there are 2 pots: a wok with hot oil and garlic, and a pot with boiling water and the noodles.  You don't want to cook the noodles too early, because if they sit in the strainer too long they'll be difficult to work with.

Let the garlic cook about 30 seconds and then add the chicken.  It's important to start the noodles right before the chicken, because you'll need to keep moving the chicken around (i.e. stir frying) for the first few minutes (the chicken will take a total of about 6-8 minutes depending on how big your pieces are, and as I said, my noodles take 4 minutes).  If the wok starts to get too dry while you're stir frying the chicken, you can add a little of the stock.

Strain the noodles, add it to the wok, and then pour in the sauce.  Using two spatulas gently lift and turn like you're tossing a salad.  If you're laughing at that expression, grow up.  If I just confused you, forget about it and move on.



Add the bean sprouts, water chestnuts, and ground pepper; continue tossing another minute.



I think one of the most important parts of cooking is also one that people don't usually do and that's tasting as you go.  If you haven't tasted it yet, now would be a good time.  You may want to add a little more fish sauce.

When you have it tasting the way you want it, you're ready to plate it and top it with the crushed cashews and sliced green onions.



How good does that look?

Rum Punched

As many of you know, my parents were born in Barbados. They each had 6 kids in their family, so I have lots of aunts and uncles and LOTS of cousins. My oldest uncle was Francis Edwin Wood Goddard (1916-1994). Great guy. My mom's father was Francis Wood Goddard (1890-1977). Wonderful guy. His father was Edwin Alleyne Goddard (1853-1943). Beats me what kind of guy he was, but I'm optimistic. Edwin's father was William Wood Davis Goddard (1820-1891), and his father was William Farmer Goddard (1800-1878) - my grandfather's grandfather's father. Regardless of whether or not they were nice, I bet they were no-nonsense, hard working, family men.  They were British colonists in early Barbados, one of the jewels of the empire. I wish I could hear how they spoke or see what they looked like.

If you continued through the family history I've researched you'd see several names which have been passed down, and I think that's pretty cool. My sister's middle name is Frances, for example, after our grandfather. No other Greggs in the bunch, but I'm okay with that.

The point of this brief history lesson?  I have a deep and rich West Indian heritage, and as you can probably guess I've been around quite a bit of rum punch in my life. Quite a bit.

The recipe we use is centuries old. There's no nouveau twist. No South Beach influence. It's simple, classic, and I wouldn't make it any other way. The best thing about our recipe is that you don't have to write it down:

One of sour

Two of sweet

Three of strong

Four of weak

Translation?

One part lime juice

Two parts sugar

Three parts rum

Four parts water

The first way rhymes a lot better, and that's how you remember it. It's the greatest rum punch ever. What's more? It's how rum punch was first made. The Food Network show 'Good Eats with Alton Brown' did an entire episode on punch, and when he got to rum punch Alton told about the original way pirates made it.  I'll be damned if he didn't say the recipe was one of sour, two of sweet, three of strong, four of weak.  Alton said you should then add some spice, and we'll get to that in a minute.

So, start with a cup of lime juice, even if you buy a bottle instead of squeezing limes. Add 2 cups of sugar, 3 cups of rum (I last used an 8 year old Bacardi, but of course Barbados rum is preferred), and 4 cups of water. Wisk or stir until all the sugar dissolves, and you'll have yourself two and a half quarts o' punch.

Pour into an ice filled glass. The traditional way is to top it with a couple splashes of Angostura Bitters and then the spice, which is a little ground nutmeg. Again, that's not some foo-foo South Beach garnish. That's legit. Centuries old.  And while the end result is delicious, I must warn you that you should drink it in moderation.

Bring on Autumn

We've been killing ourselves in the yard all summer, and we're ready for things to go dormant.  Plus, it's football season (!), so we have much less time for weekend yard work.  But now it's officially fall, and like clockwork it's become a little cooler.  As I've stated in previous posts, I like to wing it in the kitchen.  I like to think about what I'm in the mood for, and then see if I can make it happen.  The end product of my inventiveness is sometimes inedible, but we have a Domino's in our neighborhood now, so there really are no losers.

About a year ago I decided to try to make a sauce for pork to go with mashed potatoes.  I thought a base of apples and dried cranberries sounded like a good start, so I got to it.  It was one of those dishes that really came out pretty good, so I posted a comment about it on Facebook, and Maureen Souza-Somethingorother, my friend of 30+ years, commented that it sounded like a good autumn kind of dinner.  That made sense to me.  Kind of Thanksgivingish with pork instead of turkey.  But that also meant that once the cool weather was behind us I felt like it would be kind of inappropriate or out of place.  Like salad at a tailgate party.

But it was really good, so I kept thinking about it.  For like 8 months I've been thinking about it.  But now it's officially autumn, and it's a little cooler outside, so I had no good reason not to make my grilled pork tenderloin and mashed potatoes with apple cranberry sauce and candied rosemary carrots.  Again the name is the shopping list.  Either I suck at naming dishes, or I'm phenomenal at it.

I think the best part of this meal is that it's pretty hard to screw up even without ever having written down a recipe.  The basics of it are simple and few, and the rest is wide open and subject to personal opinion.  I buy a flavored pork tenderloin - peppercorn this time, but I've also used teriyaki and mesquite with equal success.  I grill it over low heat turning it every 5 minutes or so until it's done, which in the case of pork is about 160 degrees, and which usually takes about 25 minutes.



While that's grilling I core two Granny Smith apples, chop them into bite size pieces, and open a 6-8 oz. bag of dried cranberries (craisins).  The apples and craisins go into a big saute' pan.  The next part has changed each time I've made this.  Most recently I added 1/2 cup of red wine vinegar, 1/2 cup of vegetable stock, and 1 cup of water, but I've done different amounts of each (including not adding any stock) with very little difference in the flavor.



I want the apples to soften completely.  I never peel the apples, but feel free if you're so inclined.  I cook the fruit and liquids over medium heat, and then I head to the pantry and survey Tammy's epic assortment of herbs and seasonings.  Salt and pepper, of course.  I always grate a lot of nutmeg, and I always use many shakes of dried rosemary.  This time I also used some of my homemade chipotle powder (see the Smokin' entry from earlier this year).

 I also use pancake syrup.

Tammy took a great photograph of these potatoes, but they were only props.  I just use the stuff in a box, because they taste fine to me.

I like to mash the apples at the end to make sure they're soft to eat (I used a potato masher, but that was overkill; a fork is fine).  If the sauce is getting thicker than you like, as mine was, just add more water.  It's really that simple.

Carrots.  Tammy cooked a bag of frozen baby carrots according to the instructions on the bag.  Then I dumped them into a pan with some water to soften further.  When the water got going well, I again added some pancake syrup to kind of candy them.  Keep tossing the carrots to coat them, and then I sprinkle a lot of dried rosemary to stick to the syrupy, gooey-ness.

That's it.  Time to slice the pork...



...and then serve it up.



Maureen was right.  That's autumn on a plate.



Chicken Pesto Pasta with Artichokes & Sundried Tomatoes

Bobby Bowden has always stressed priorities, and he always said his top priorities were "faith, family, then football."  This makes one wonder about the importance one places on the things one holds near and dear.  When one has a particularly guilty pleasure it makes one self conscious about how important said guilty pleasure is relative to other things in one's life.  Confused?  Somewhat irritated by the excessive use of "one"?  Okay, I'll get to it: I'm a Rush fan.  A really big Rush fan, and I've been so since my cousin Lou took me to the Moving Pictures tour in March of 1982 when I was in 7th grade.  I've only missed one tour since then.  So when Bobby Bowden says his priorities are faith, family, then football I become rather self-conscious about how important in my life three guys I've never met are.  I mean a REALLY big Rush fan.

I'm such a dork I go to a Rush news website every morning.  Neil Peart (peert, not purt) is the drummer and lyricist, and he has a website where he writes usually monthly about his life and what he's doing, where he's going, etc.  When he posts a new entry I know how I will spend my lunch break that day.  One subject he has covered is his love of cooking (finally you see where this is going), and he recently took it farther to include a cooking section to his website, which he calls Bubba's Bar & Grill.  I was overjoyed that a guy from my favorite band was going to share with me the things he likes to cook.  I realize all of you find this to be another reason to dislike me, but I don't care, and you can each help yourself to a caustic retort on your way out.

With the nerdy, annoying, uncomfortable introduction behind us we can finally get to the food.  I picked a recipe on opening day of Bubba's Bar & Grill, and my family loves it.  It's extremely easy, it has a little wow factor, and it incorporates one of my trademarks in that the name is the shopping list.  Behold: chicken pesto pasta w/ artichokes & sundried tomatoes.  That's everything.

Let's get the pasta boiling, shall we?  We prefer bowtie pasta for this.  Now, one chicken breast per person gets cut into bite size pieces and then goes into a pan of very hot oil.  Some may ask why the oil needs to be very hot before you add the chicken.  If you toss the chicken into room temperature oil the chicken will absorb it, which is disgusting.  Tossing the chicken into very hot oil instantly sears it keeping the juices in and the oil out.  So concludes the teaching portion of whatever this is.

And you're pretty much done cooking.  I'm serious.  Turn the chicken to brown all the sides.  Add a can or two of quartered artichoke hearts including the canning liquid.  The steam will keep the chicken tender. We use 2 cans to 3 breasts because Tammy calls the shots.  Canned is usually a lot less expensive than bottled, and there's no difference.

Meanwhile mince some sundried tomatoes and toss them into the party to get a little juicier and tenderer.

After the pasta boils 10 minutes, drain and add it to the other ingredients.  Or return it to the pasta pot and then add the chicken and veggies to it.  I have no idea if there's a difference, so just base it on which pot is bigger.  Then add pesto sauce.  This is what I think adds a little wow factor, simply because I rarely see or eat pesto.  I use two 6.3 oz bottles of Classico.

At this point I like to kick up the flavor of the pesto by introducing some fresh basil.  I trim a bit from my basil plant, pluck the leaves (in the Bubba's Bar & Grill t-shirt my sister gave me for Christmas), roll them up like a - uh - cigar, and dice.

If the wine isn't open by now you're stupid.  Toss, mix, combine, plate, garnish, turn up the Rush CD, and enjoy. 

Coincidentally, this posting coincides with the start of the newest Rush tour.  Yes, that's right.  Coincidentally it coincides with it. Coincidentally, the band has decided on this tour to play Moving Pictures in its entirety.  Yes, that's right.  The album from my first tour back when I was in 7th grade.  The tour began last night in Albuquerque (I swear on my own eyes I can spell that without looking it up), and it culminates October 2 (where?) in West Palm Beach.  And guess who has tickets.