Thursday, November 18, 2010

Kalua Pig


Thanksgiving and fall recipes seem to be the only things going around these days, so here's some pig for reprieve -- not to mention in one its most easy, economical, and satisfying forms.

Our new(ish) apartment needed to be warmed.  So we decided we needed 6 lbs of pork butt to do it. And some spam too!

Spam musubi, realized in bite size form

The traditional Hawaiian method of cooking kalua pig (also known as kalua "pork" on the mainland) is in an imu, or an oven dug in the ground.  At my high school, some classes had fundraisers selling kalua pig instead of say, chocolate or cookies.  Someone's dad would go shoot a pig in the mountains, haul it back, and cook it in an imu that had been dug next to the football field.  If I remember correctly, they were pretty successful fundraisers.


Straight from the Aloha Stadium swap meet

Whenever I explain kalua pig to people not from Hawaii, there tends to be confusion with the "kalua" part.  "Is there Kahlua in it?" 

Kahlua - a Mexican coffee-flavored liqueur.  The name is derived from the Veracruzan Nahuatl language spoken before Spanish conquest.

Kalua - "to cook in the ground" in the Hawaiian language.

I suppose you could try braising some pork in Kahlua to make Kahlua pig.  I think liquid smoke works better though.

Questionable yet effective

While I do have a 3'x10' area at the bottom of my apartment building, it is not suitable for imu digging as it is unfortunately covered with concrete and trash cans and smells way too much like pee than it should (it's enclosed...who pees in back of their apartment??!).  But thanks to today's available artificial flavors and the technological feat that is the oven, I was able to make this at home without picking cement or getting so much as a whiff of urine.




I've seen kalua pig recipes that call for pork shoulder and am going to recommend against it.  I tried to do a mix of butt and shoulder to keep it from being overly fatty -- MISTAKE.  Unless you have several more hours to roast the shoulder longer at a lower temperature, stick with the butt in all its tender glory.  And for those who are like "ewww, BUTT!" (have you eaten a hot dog lately?) pork butt, also known as Boston butt is not actually of the butt, but rather a part of the shoulder.  So really, I was just unknowingly mixing a superior cut of the shoulder with an inferior cut of the shoulder.  Luckily though, the butt fat covered up the dryness of the shoulder.

More information about butts and shoulders can be found here.  Do not fear the butt!


Done cooking, but not shredding


Oven Roasted Kalua Pig
adapted from so so many sources
Serves about 16 people

5-6 lbs pork butt, a.k.a. Boston butt*
2 tablespoons + 1 teaspoon liquid smoke
1 tablespoon + 1 tablespoon sea salt (I used orange Ala'ea salt from Hawaii)

Preheat oven to 325 degrees F.

Trim excess fat.  This is important.  I love fat as much as the next maiden of fat but I did not trim enough and, once cooked, was left with big fat globs I had to dig out.

Lay out foil in roasting pan and place pork on top.  The entire piece will be enclosed in this piece foil before cooking, so make sure it is big enough to do so.

Score pork with shallow slits, about 1/2 inch deep, all around.


Rub 2 tablespoons of liquid smoke and 1 tablespoon salt into meat (I recommend trying to maneuver this with a spoon because the liquid smoke gets into your skin and makes your hands stink even after multiple washes).


Wrap foil so that meat is completely enclosed.


Roast for about 4.5 hours, or 45 minutes a pound at 325 degrees.

Once cooled to room temperature, shred with two forks.


Dissolve remaining 1 tablespoon salt and 1 teaspoon of liquid smoke in about 1/2 cup of water.  Pour over shredded pork and let stand til absorbed, about 10 minutes.

If you want to add cabbage (highly recommended), throw about 1/4 cup of the pork drippings in a pan, saute chopped cabbage until wilted, and mix in with pork.  I used about a half a head of cabbage in the end.

Thursday, November 4, 2010

THE Mac Salad

THIS IS IT.



THIS is what you were expecting when you took your first bite of mac salad on the mainland.  But it is not what you got.

Instead, the sickly sweet hyper-tang collides with your now instantly bummed out taste buds and you try to smile mid-conversation 'cause no one eats mac salad alone, for it is a social delicacy.  You smile like you ate something you actually meant to in an attempt to hide your pervasive cringe because it was like someone took a pickle, dipped it in mayonnaise, topped it with a noodle and shoved it in your mouth.  Except it was all on your own accord.  You let this happen.  On your own watch.

You try to figure out what you're gonna do with the previously assumed as tasty mound of mac salad that, yes, is already starting to pollute the rice on your plate.  The meat is next.  So you sacrifice a few grains of rice building a barrier around the "mac salad" in hopes of saving the rest of the food on your plate.  Don't worry, it's worth it.  But those are grains of rice you will never get back.

What's that?  You're not from Hawaii?  Oh, so mac salad is supposed to taste like that?  Why would I eat a noodle-based side with rice, you ask?  Is that a serious question?  What high school did YOU go to?*


If this stuff is what defines an American classic, consider me un-American.

This is not the mustard-laden vinegary sugar pickle shit you buy in your grocer's deli island.  When it comes to mac salad, I am not one to relish in relish. 

For those of you outta the know, Zippy's is a popular Hawaiian chain that serves up plate lunches, great fried chicken, awkward spaghetti, and, of course, mac salad.

After a lot of research I feel confident when I say I have cracked Zippy's mac salad recipe.  I don't trust the dozens of recipes floating out there that call for boiled eggs, tuna, vinegar, etc and still claim to be "Hawaiian" -- especially when they came from some haole on the mainland.  While you are welcome to add those, you will be missing out on the subtly of simplicity.


Hawaiian Style Mac Salad, like Zippy's
1 lb elbow macaroni
1 cup mayonnaise, to start (Best Foods brand recommended -- but anything's fine as long as it's real full fat mayo)
1/4 cup milk (optional depending on how thick you like your dressing)
2 teaspoons yellow mustard
1 teaspoon salt
1/2 an onion, grated
1 stalk of celery, grated
2 carrots, shredded/grated
1/2 teaspoon salt
many twists of freshly ground black pepper
salt and pepper to taste

Prepare elbow macaroni for the maximum cooking time as directed.  For example, if it calls for the noodles to be boiled for 8-10 minutes, boil them for 10 minutes.  Al dente noodles only get more dente when chilled.

Cool to room temperature and place in refrigerator for at least two hours, or until cold.  This can be done overnight.

In a large mixing bowl, stir mayo, mustard, salt, pepper, grated onion, grated celery, and milk (if using) until completely incorporated.

Fold in carrots.

Fold in chilled macaroni and stir so that every noodle is entrenched in mayo-y goodness.

Cover and chill in refrigerator for six hours or preferably overnight.

The next morning, stir salad.  You will probably want to add more mayo at this point, and please do so.

Add more salt and pepper to taste.

Kalua Pig and Mac Salad.  Did not find each other on Match.com.

Serve with the following recommended pairings:
Kettle Chips, preferably Salt & Pepper flavor, as a vehicle to dip into the mac salad
Budweiser or Heineken, just like home
Kalua Pig (recipe forthcoming)
Any form of BBQed meat with rice


*The high school one attends on Oahu is of utmost importance in determining how to most accurately pass judgment on an individual based on sweeping generalizations associated with their respective high school.  These stereotypes include but are not limited to: socio-economic standing, race, intelligence, and the ability to dominate physically; ie, "Barack Obama attended Punahou High School, therefore he thinks he's better than everybody."

Tuesday, October 26, 2010

Hungarian Mushroom Soup

Because it looked like this outside:



I had only one option.


Soup!!
I believe in diplomacy, and this soup is what middle ground is all about.  This is like a good DTR talk about the potential of a LTR...of soup.  Or whatever.  Meet me half way, okay?

This soup embodies some of the richness that often accompanies mushroom soups in the "cream of" category but stands its ground against being just another dull-ass soup of healthfood yesteryearwater.  In other words, this shit is bomb without making you feel like you just ate one.  And it's totally not boring at the same time (I'm looking at you, chicken noodle... especially when I'm not sick).

Paprika I brought back from Hungary that is probably way too old to use.

I couldn't get my hands on any "wild mushrooms," and didn't feel like foraging 6th Street for anything growing out of all the (usually human) doodoo chilling on the block, so I settled for some baby portabella mushrooms I found on sale.  Though I will confidently say I believe cremini, straight up button mushrooms, or whatever kind you find on sale will work.

With that said, the only adaptation I made was leaving out the "wild" part.  'Cause if I wanted to get wild I wouldn't be eating soup.

Hungarian Wild  Mushroom Soup
slightly adapted from Edible Portland

2 Tbsp butter
1 cup chopped onion (about one medium to large onion)
1/2 cup chopped leek (about 2 stalks)
2 tsp minced garlic (about 3 cloves)
2 lbs cleaned, roughly sliced wild  mushrooms
1 tsp salt
1 Tbsp paprika
3 Tbsp fresh dill weed, chopped
2 tsp fresh lemon juice
3 Tbsp flour
2 cups low-sodium chicken or vegetable stock
1 cup milk
Black pepper, freshly ground
1/2 cup sour cream
Parsley, roughly chopped for garnish

In a large stockpot, melt butter over medium heat.

Add onion, leek and garlic.


Sauté for 5 minutes or until onions are translucent but not browned.

Add mushrooms, salt, paprika and 2 tablespoons of the dill. Stir well. Bring to a slow simmer, cover and cook for 10 minutes.


Remove the lid, stir and simmer uncovered for an additional 5 to 7 minutes. Stir in lemon juice.

Sprinkle flour evenly over mixture. Simmer while stirring continuously for another 5 minutes.

Add stock,cover and cook for 10 minutes, stirring often.

Add milk and black pepper to taste and turn the heat to low.

Whisk in sour cream, a little at a time. Be careful not to boil the soup from this point on.

Add salt to taste.

Not entirely recommended

I foolishly stuck my immersion blended in the pot without taking some of the soup out to preserve a chunky mushroom texture.  I would recommend setting half aside, blending it all up until thick and creamy, then dumping the unblended half back in.  This is all, of course, very optional and questionably superficial.  For some, texture is a pretty big deal, as illustrated by the band Catherine Wheel in the opening track of their 1992 debut full-length Ferment (and consequently the beginning of the end of shoegaze?  Blending -- only for the brave). 


Tuesday, October 12, 2010

Brunch: serving the server

When my good buddy (and only person I refer to as "buddy") Shannon, a server at a popular brunch spot, was off on a Saturday she suggested we go out somewhere so that someone could server her some brunch.  I, not one for waiting in line, or paying more than I know I should for food retorted, "Let me serve you."  Done deal.

She showed up afflicted with a full-blown Enter the Void-induced hangover from the night before.  I haven't confirmed with her, but I think the meal proved an effective cure.  I plan to take the plunge while it's still in theaters, but not without another brunch menu planned for myself.

Having never made crepes, I felt this an opportune occasion to try the Mushroom Crepe Cake over at Smitten Kitchen since I couldn't justify all the work without sharing the results with company.  Tasty indeed, though the slices were like limp triangular mounds.  I could have reduced the liquid in the mushroom filling a bit more, laid off the mozzarella topping, and perhaps took more caution layering it together.  But I figured the eaters involved could give a shit.  I'm pretty sure I was right.


MAKING CREPES IS FUN.  Which is why I didn't mind spending the end of my Friday nite cooking them up after watching the Giants lose (it's okay, they have since beat the Braves afterall) with some whiskey and a burger.  Or maybe it's the other way around...Either way I prepared the batter Thursday nite (after coming home from watching the Giants win with some beer) so it could hang out for a day to achieve righteous texture.
Fundamental.
At the end of the middle of the day, it was all about the ole standby biscuits and gravy.  I have had bad biscuits and gravy.  To me, that annoying saying about pizza and sex applies to biscuits and gravy (and ice cream and fried chicken).  You know the one.  For me, when something that is supposed to be good even when it is bad is actually just bad when it's bad, it makes it even more...bad.  Especially when you're well aware that the tasteless slop you're consuming is made up of fat and carbs and totally not worth the cal's.  Travesty.  Thankfully I have also had good biscuits and gravy, and this foolproof recipe in my arse-anal. 

I've made these biscuits too many times to count (ok, something like seven times), and they never fail.  NEVER.  The best part is that, while you can get all fancy with biscuits with buttermilk, sour cream, and heavy cream if you want, this recipe calls for ingredients I usually keep stocked in my fridge.

Like butter.

Biscuits
from Food.com
makes 12 biscuits
2 cups all-purpose flour
4 teaspoons baking powder
2 tablespoons granulated sugar
1 teaspoon salt
1/3 cup butter, cold
3/4 cup milk, cold

Preheat oven to 425 degrees F Mix first 4 ingredients together in a bowl.

Cut in butter with a pastry blender or a fork, or two knives, until crumbly.

Add milk.

Stir until it forms a ball.

Add a bit more milk if necessary to make a soft dough.

Roll or pat to 1 inch thick.  Cut into circles with a biscuit cutter or a floured glass (I usually do this but this last time I treated them as drop-biscuits and formed mounds on the baking sheet just to mix it up).

Arrange on a greased baking sheet and bake at 425 degrees F for about 15 minutes, depending on your oven.

The original recipe suggests variations that include cheese and herbs.  I added about a tablespoon of finely chopped scallions I had on hand and had great results.  Plus, the green flecks add to an otherwise colorless dish.


Vegetarian Gravy
3 tablespoons butter
1/2 an onion, finely chopped
3 tablespoons all purpose flour
3/4 cup milk, to start (I used whole)
1 tablespoon nutritional yeast (optional, but I've found it gives it a more robust flavor)
1 vegetable bouillon cube
Water, optional
Herbs of your choice, optional
Salt and pepper, to taste

Melt butter in a saucepan.

Add onions and cook on medium heat until soft, about five minutes.

Stir in flour so that it evenly coats the onions.

Add the milk and stir until smooth.

Once milk is heated, add bouillon cube and nutritional yeast, if using, and stir until completely incorporated.

Reduce heat to low and cook until thickened, stirring frequently and scraping the edges (a rubber spatula does this beautifully).

If mixture is too thick, stir in more milk or some water depending on how creamy you prefer the gravy to be.

Add herbs, if using.  I wasn't looking to go very herby here (though you could!), so I did 1/2 teaspoon of thyme and 1/2 teaspoon of rosemary.

Salt and pepper to taste, though I found the bouillon has the salt department covered pretty well.

Serve hot, spooned over biscuits and eat it all.  That's part of the directions.

Thursday, October 7, 2010

Muffins for Giants



After going to a couple of games, I started mildly caring about baseball this year. Then The Giants started to actually win and started caring a little more.

At the ballpark, I did what any somewhat self-respecting spectator would do: ODed on chicken tenders, garlic fries, regular fries, Ghiradelli hot fudge sundaes, and even a hot dog. Not to mention the BBQ, chips, and beer consumed among my fellow cable-less citizens at local bars while watching the game.

The Giants won the west (whatever that means) and now it's time to make some (admittedly most likely very temporary) post-season changes. We're talking major cut-backs on refined flour, sugar, dairy, fried foods, and all that is good in the world but bad for you. I turned to these muffins from Chocolate & Tea to get me through it all.


These are amazingly not whole wheat tasting and, minus the small amount of sugar, actually good for you. I got my roommate stoked on them and then dropped the WWNF-bomb (whole-wheat non-fat) on her. Plus, the basic batter is so versatile, I included a Carrot-Walnut version. Feel free to experiment with spices and different fold-ins!



The use of whole wheat PASTRY flour, which contains less protein than regular old whole wheat flour is what makes these fiberlicious things beyond edible. Most major grocery stores carry it, and your local health food store should definitely have it. I got mine in bulk from Rainbow Grocery for $0.79/lb.




Fluffy Whole Wheat Anykine Muffins
slightly adapted from Chocolate & Tea
makes 12 muffins

2 cups whole wheat pastry flour
2 tsp baking powder
2 tsp baking soda
1/4 cup sugar
1/2 teaspoon salt
2 eggs
3/4 cup milk (I used almond milk in one batch and low-fat plain yogurt in another)
1/4 cup applesauce
1/4 cup honey
1 teaspoon vanilla extract

Preheat oven to 375 degrees.

In a large bowl, whisk together the dry ingredients: flour, baking powder, baking soda, sugar, salt, and spices if using them.

In a separate bowl, lightly beat the eggs. Whisk in the liquid ingredients: milk, applesauce, honey, and vanilla.

Next, pour the wet ingredients over the dry and stir until completely incorporated.

Fold in any mix-ins (berries, nuts, chocolate chips, carrots, etc).

Divide batter into 12 greased muffin tins, lined or unlined -- your call!

Bake for 18 to 20 minutes*, or until tops turn golden brown and you can pull a clean toothpick out of the center. Let muffins cool before removing from pan. Keep in mind baking times are loose since ovens vary greatly -- I had to bake mine for about an extra 10 minutes.

For Blueberry Muffins, fold 1 cup blueberries (fresh or frozen) into batter just before baking.




Carrot-Walnut Muffins:
1/2 tsp ground cinnamon
1/4 tsp ground nutmeg
1/8 tsp ground ginger
1 cup grated carrot
1/2 cup walnuts, preferably toasted

Mix spices with dry ingredients. Prepare batter as directed and fold in carrot and walnuts before baking.

Note that these are not sweet like your usual store-bought muffin (which, c'mon, is really just a euphemism for a cupcake without frosting).

Let's go Giants!