Showing posts with label Pork. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Pork. Show all posts

Tuesday, August 10, 2010

Ratatouille and Pan-Seared, Oven Roasted Pork Tenderloin with a Rosemary Vermouth Pan Sauce


I love ratatouille. I was making it even before that cute movie with the rat waltzed this dish into the spotlight. Did you know that Thomas Keller consulted on that movie, and he came up with the recipe on which the rat's ratatouille was based? That's why it looked so awesome. After seeing that movie, I wanted to make some of this Frenchy stew immediately. And I would have, except that it was January and this, to me, is summer food.

I therefore usually make ratatouille at least once every summer, and I had been meaning to make it for a few weeks now. I even bought a cute little eggplant at the farm stand thinking that it might end up in some ratatouille. Instead, it lingered on the counter and turned to mush. I suck.

Then I came across this article in the Guardian's blog. In it, Felicity Cloake eloquently and amusingly expounds on ratatouille in all its various permutations. And I was inspired...So here you go:


Ratatouille

  • 4 tablespoons olive oil, divided
  • 1 large onion, diced
  • 1 red bell pepper, diced
  • 1 green bell pepper, diced
  • 5 cloves garlic, thinly sliced
  • Salt
  • 1/4 cup dry white wine
  • 1/4 teaspoon red pepper flakes
  • 2 medium eggplant, cut into 1/2 inch dice
  • 3-4 zucchini
  • 28 ounce can whole tomatoes*
  • 1 bay leaf
  • 2 teaspoons chopped fresh thyme
  • 1/4 thinly sliced fresh basil
  • 1 1/2 tablespoons chopped fresh parsley
Heat 1 tablespoon olive oil in a large dutch oven, and sauté the onion, peppers, garlic, and 1/4 teaspoon salt until the vegetables are soft (about 10 minutes). Add white wine, and increase heat to high. Simmer until the white wine is almost completely evaporated, about 4 minutes, and stir in the red pepper flakes. Turn heat off.

Meanwhile, heat another 2 tablespoons olive oil in a large skillet, add the eggplant, sprinkle with salt, and sauté until the eggplant is tender and a little bit seared. You only want to cook it about half way, which will take about 7 minutes. When the eggplant is sufficiently softened, add it to the onion pepper mixture in the dutch oven.

While the eggplant is cooking, cut the zucchini in half lengthwise. Cut each half in half lengthwise again, so that you have 4 long pieces. Cut these pieces across in 1/4 inch segments so that you are left with little quarter-moon pieces. Open the can of tomatoes and leave them in the can. Using kitchen shears, cut the tomatoes into smaller pieces.


Heat the remaining olive oil in a large skillet and sauté the zucchini until the pieces are a little bit brown, and the soft centers are just becoming a bit translucent. Again, you only want them about half-way cooked.

Add the tomatoes and bring to a simmer. Add this mixture to the dutch oven and add the bay leaf and thyme.

Gently simmer the contents of the dutch oven until the flavors are melded and the vegetables are tender but not mushy, about 40 minutes to an hour. Stir in the basil and parsley, and season to taste with pepper, and more salt if necessary.

*I know that it probably seems wacky to use canned tomatoes in the height of summer, but I find that fresh tomatoes tend to have a flavor that is too lacking in assertiveness for this dish. Plus, canned tomatoes are more economical for me right now, as my tomato plants turned out to be super sad specimens this year.
If I did make this with fresh tomatoes, however, I would consider roasting them first.

**************************

I love ratatouille with pork, and there just happened to be a lovely pork tenderloin in the freezer. Rather than simply brushing it with salt, pepper, and oil and grilling this tenderloin (which is yummy), we decided to go oldschool.

The rosemary in the pork's sauce was a perfect counterpoint to the basil and thyme in the ratatouille. We had some pork tenderloin, some ratatouille, and some garlic mashed potatoes, and we were in Happy Fat Land.

We used to make this recipe all the time, and we sort of OD'd on it. It seemed, though, that it was time to brush the dust off of its sheltering folder. And wow. This tenderloin is easy, delicious, and healthy. Why had we neglected it for so long?


Pan-Seared, Oven Roasted Pork Tenderloin with a Rosemary Vermouth Pan Sauce

  • 1 pork tenderloin
  • Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
  • 1 tablespoon butter
  • 1 1/2 tablespoons brown sugar
  • 1/2 cup thinly sliced shallots
  • 1/4 cup vermouth
  • 2 cups chicken stock
  • 1-2 teaspoons chopped fresh rosemary
Preheat the oven to 400 degrees.
Coat the tenderloin with salt and pepper, and in a large skillet, heat 1-2 tablespoons canola oil over high heat. When the oil is shimmering, sear the tenderloin on all sides until it is golden brown (about 4 minutes per side).

Place the tenderloin on a foil-lined baking sheet and cook in the center of the oven until the internal temperature reads 135 degrees. Remove the tenderloin and allow it to rest.

In the meantime, melt the butter in the same skillet that was used to sear the tenderloin. Add the brown sugar, 2 tablespoons of water, and the shallots. Over medium heat, cook the shallots until soft, about 15 minutes.

Increase the heat to high and add the vermouth. If there are any brown bits remaining on the bottom of the pan, scrape them up with a wooden spoon or silicone spatula. When the vermouth has almost completely evaporated, add the chicken stock and a teaspoon of the rosemary.

Over high heat, simmer the stock until it has been reduced to a thick sauce. Taste for seasoning and add salt and pepper, and the rest of the rosemary if desired. (In the winter, we like to use all of the rosemary, but in the summer we prefer a more mild rosemary flavor.)

Thursday, August 5, 2010

Summer Squash Gratin, Grilled Pork Chops




I love Susanne Goin. I mean, not really, because I don't actually know her, but I love her cookbook. I most especially love the way she can take a dish that you've made before, like chicken piccata or a summer squash gratin, and approach it from a way that a humble home cook like me may not have considered.

For example, I've made summer squash gratins before, and even have a recipe for a yummy one on this site. The one that I feature here is delicious, and I've made similar ones, as well. But that means that my little brain has come to think of this type of gratin in a certain way.

And then along comes Susanne, and she tells me to put brown butter instead of olive oil in the gratin. And she tells me to mix the breadcrumbs in with the squash, as opposed to using them as a topping. And the shallots! We love shallots.

The only thing I didn't like about this recipe was the salsa verde. I'm sure that some people may consider this blasphemous, but neither of us are fans. I don't like the raw mintiness, and Nick doesn't like the anchovy-ness. We did make it, though, and we did give it a chance. We were just thankful, in the end, that we hadn't mixed the salsa verde in with all of our individual gratins.

If you're in the pro-salsa verde camp, though, feel free to mix in a half cup of the stuff when you mix in the cheese. We ate this with grilled, brined, thick-cut bone-in pork chops, and it was a delicious summer dinner.

As for the brining pork chop thing--if you've never tried it, you really really should. Mixing up a brine takes almost no time at all, and you can throw your brining meat into the fridge while you prep the rest of your dinner. Brining pork chops (or chicken) for even 45 minutes results in super-flavorful, super-moist meat. You'll never go back.

 Summer Squash Gratin

  • 2 pounds summer squash
  • 1 1/2 cups fresh breadcrumbs
  • 3 tablespoons butter
  • 3/4 cup sliced shallots
  • 1 teaspoon minced garlic
  • 1 tablespoon thyme leaves
  • 1 cup grated Gruyere cheese
  • Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees.
Cut the squash into 1/8 inch-thick slices. Toss the slices in a large bowl with 1 teaspoon kosher salt, and let sit 10 minutes.

Place the breadcrumbs in a bowl.
Heat a small saute pan over medium heat for 1 minute. Swirl in the butter and cook for a few minutes, until it browns and smells nutty. Pour the brown butter over the breadcrumbs (being sure to scrape all the brown bits into a bowl with a rubber spatula). Wait a minute or two for the butter to cool, and toss well.

Drain the squash and transfer it to a large mixing bowl. Add the shallots, minced garlic, thyme, and some pepper. Toss to combine, and add the cheese (and salsa verde if you're using it) and half of the breadcrumbs. Toss again, and taste for seasoning. (The raw garlic will taste strong at this point, but it will mellow as it cooks.)

Place the squash in an attractive 9-by-9 inch gratin dish, or divide it amongst some individual gratin dishes. Scatter the remaining breadcrumbs over the top, and bake 35 to 40 minutes, until the squash is tender and the top is crisp.

 

Grilled Pork Chops

  • 3/4 to 1 inch thick bone-in pork chops, one per person
  • Kosher salt
  • Canola oil
  • Freshly ground black pepper
Cook's Illustrated has a more sophisticated brining formula, which you can check out here. I however, find that it is sufficient to use 1/4 cup Kosher salt per quart of water. Mix the salt with cold water until it is mostly dissolved. Make enough to cover whatever your brining. Place the meat into the brine, and put the whole thing into the fridge for at least 45 minutes and up to 3 hours for chicken and 5 hours for pork. (I don't really recommend brining pork tenderloin, but some people like to.)

When you're 15 minutes away from being ready to cook the meat, preheat your grill. Clean off the grate after about 7 minutes. (This is for a gas grill. Sorry charcoal peeps.)

Thoroughly dry the chops and brush them with canola oil. Season with freshly ground pepper--we like a pretty heavy covering. 

Over medium-high to high heat, cook the pork chops for about 4 minutes per side. This will result in pork chops that are medium to medium-well, so adjust the cooking times according to your taste.



Friday, May 21, 2010

Unseasonal Pan-Roasted Veggies, Seasonal Fresh Peas


For various reasons, including a Romesco obsession and a trip to California's Central Coast, we hadn't made a 10X10 meal in a long time.

We had been really really excited about the Daring Cook's May challenge, which was enchiladas with a verde sauce. We had fully intended to turn the pork shoulder that had been languishing in the freezer into some delicious Mexican-y goodness, but, again, for a number of reasons, it just didn't happen. The shoulder was therefore begging to be used, and of course, Susanne Goin had the answer in the form of Spiced Pork Stew with Polenta, Root Vegetables, and Gremolata.

I really do realize that I keep whining about how I'm over the whole braised meat thing for now, but it was an atypically cold day, and a stew really did sound perfect. Plus, I had had polenta on the brain for no good reason, so this sounded perfect. I love you, Susanne.

We didn't love the pork stew, but it was probably my fault, or what we call 'user error.' And, of course, I had another major Polenta Fail. I'll get this stuff right someday, I swear. My family has gotten to the point that they think that even when made properly, it can't be that great. Can it? But a lot of food people say that it can be that great, which is why I'm determined to get it right, much to my family's chagrin.
This time, it was another watery, flavorless gruel.


That's why we gave it googly eyes. Everything is better with googly eyes.
The one thing that I really loved about this meal, though, were the 'roasted' vegetables. Because they were root vegetables, they didn't seem very springy, but they've revolutionized my thinking when it comes to the preparation of hearty veggies.

Here's how I will in the future cook root vegetables (an adaptation of Susanne's recipe):
(It means a bit more active time than coating vegetables in oil and throwing them in the oven, but it's still easy, and it's well worth it.)



Pan-Roasted Root Vegetables with Gremolata
(By Suzanne Goin)
  • Zest of one lemon
  • 1 teaspoon minced garlic
  • 1/3 cup chopped fresh flat leaf parsley
  • 1 lb. carrots (preferably organic with the tops attached), peeled
  • 2 medium turnips
  • 3 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
  • 1 TBSP fresh thyme leaves
  • 2 TBSP unsalted butter
  • 1 cup 1/4 inch-thick slices shallot
  • Salt and freshly ground black pepper
  • 1 bag parsnips (if they're not sold in bags where you live, then about 6 medium ones)
Place the lemon zest on a cutting board and chop it coarsely. Place the garlic and parsley on top and chop the whole mixture together until it is very fine. This is the gremolata. 

Slice the carrots and parsnips into 1/2 inch slices cut on the bias. Clean the turnips, cut off the tails, and trim the stems. Cut small turnips in to halves or quarters, and if they're larger, cut them in half and then into 1/2 inch wedges.

Using 2 saute pans so that the vegetables are not crowded, heat the olive oil over medium-high until shimmering. Divide the carrots, parsnips and turnips between the pans and season with 1 teaspoon salt, 1/4 teaspoon pepper, and the thyme. Cook 10-15 minutes, stirring often, until the vegetables just start to caramelize.

Add the butter and shallots and saute another 10 minutes, tossing often. If the vegetables are becoming too brown without softening, reduce the heat. The vegetables are finished when they're nicely caramelized and tender.
Toss with the gremolata before serving.


Spring-Time Peas
  • 2 teaspoons olive oil
  • One small onion, diced
  • 1 lb fresh peas, shelled an rinsed
  • 1/2 tablespoon butter
  • Salt
  • Freshly ground pepper

In a large saute pan, heat the olive oil over medium heat. Add the onion and saute until soft, and almost caramelized. This will take 15-40 minutes, depending on how well you like the onions cooked. If they start to dry out or burn, add some butter and reduce the heat.

When the onions have reached the desired stage of doneness, add the peas and saute until tender, but still a little pop-in-the-mouth crisp, about 5 to 8 minutes. Toss with the butter (you can use more if you like, but we were trying to be healthy.) Season to taste with salt and pepper.


Sunday, April 11, 2010

Daring Cooks' Brunswick Stew



Nick gave me a flower:


Blog checking lines--The 2010 April Daring Cooks challenge was hosted by Wolf of Wolf's Den. She chose to challenge Daring Cooks to make Brunswick Stew. Wolf chose recipes for her challenge from the Lee Bros. Southern Cookbook by Matt Lee and Ted Lee, and from the Callaway, Virginia Ruritan Club.

I have to confess that when I read this month's Daring Cooks Challenge, my initial reaction was not one of overwhelming excitement. First of all, I thought, "Aaaahhh! That uses rabbit!" I should probably explain that while I'll eat just about anything in the whole wide world, rabbit is on the tiny Do Not Eat List, as we own a pair of the fuzzy little critters.

On the other hand, one of them is a bad, bad bunny, so I found myself threatening her when she was being evil, "Would you like to be in some Brunswick Stew? Yes you would, you bad bad rabbit." Don't worry--she's alive and well and continues to wreak havoc and destruction.

As I read the challenge instructions, I was relieved to find that the Daring Cooks stipulated that rabbit is not required. The more I thought about it, though, all I could think about was how much I really didn't feel like eating a hearty stew in the beginning of spring.

"Stop your whining," I finally said to myself, "and find a way to make it yummy." So after some brainstorming, my initial impulse was to once again make a deconstructed sort of thing. I swear that I don't always do this to recipes, but I was inspired by Thomas Keller's recipe for Boeuf Bourguignon. In this recipe, Keller basically makes a stew, and then strains out all of the vegetables. For the final product, vegetables are separately cooked and then recombined with the flavorful meat and liquid. In this way, each vegetable is cooked in an herb and spice-infused cooking medium until it reaches the perfect doneness, and when it is added to the final product, the stew acquires a new level of perfection and sophistication.

When I mentioned this month's challenge to Nick, he immediately hit upon the same idea, without me even mentioning it. We talked some more about what kinds of meats to use, how to cook the vegetables, etc. I mentioned that I thought it would be delicious to use pork shoulder, but keep it separated in a cheese cloth, a la Keller. That way, when it came time to shred the various kinds of meat, this portion of pork shoulder could be shredded and then tossed in a hot pan with some barbecue sauce. That, I figured, would make this dish way more interesting. Funnily enough, when researching Brunswick Stew, I learned that it frequently includes barbecue sauce. What can I say? I'm a genius.

The best part is that for all my whining about not wanting to eat something so wintery--"I would like this in the fall, but it's not the fall, it's spring, and I want to eat something springy...," we ended up having one last icky, cold, blustery day. So we built a fire, made some stew, and had a little send-off to winter dinner, and it was quite nice.

The final product was a thick, thick stew made of duck, pork shoulder, lima beans, and chicken stock. Rather than adding the carrots to the stew near the end of its cooking time, we made Alton Brown's Glazed Carrot recipe, and put those on top of the stew. We would highly recommend this recipe, by the way.

The corn was likewise not added to the stew--we sauteed it with some onion (which is a delicious way to cook corn, especially with fresh corn cut off the cob). On top of the carrots and corn went the barbecued pork, which was topped with some diced roasted poblanos. In the beginning of the stew recipe, you're instructed to saute some bacon and discard it. Discard bacon? No way. That went on top.

At one point, our 'deconstructed' approach meant that there we had a lot of different things going on. Nick said, "This is where it gets fun." Breaking down a whole duck, by the way, was not fun. They're some tough little buggers.

The stew was delicious, and we loved our choice of modifications. In fact, this was so delicious that we might even make it again. The recipe says that at one point, "It should taste like the most flavorful chicken soup you've ever had." And it did! In the future, I might even start off my chicken soup with the methods suggested in this recipe.

This recipe is a good example of why we're liking the Daring Cooks' challenges--you're given a set of rules that you have to work with, but at the same time, you can think outside of the box a bit and get creative. Ultimately, you make the best of what you're given, and I think that's a good way to go about life in general.