I'm really looking forward to Thanksgiving this year. Truly, I can't wait for a day with nothing to do, nowhere to go, and I can just sit around and eat until my pants don't fit.
Oh wait... days like that have been pretty easy to come by lately. I have the pants to prove it. There's nothing like sustained unemployment, an expanding waistline and chronic insomnia to put one in the holiday spirit. But here comes that turkey anyway, ready or not!
Despite the awakening of my inner Grinch, which I will blame on the early onset of the shopping season, I am thankful for quite a lot this year. I have a loving family who have listened, and cried, and laughed right along with me these last several months. I don't know what I would do without those phone calls home to Mom, in particular. There's just something about a woman who swears like a sailor that makes me smile.
I have a wonderful extended family of friends who are always looking out for me, making me laugh, and distracting me from my worries. I appreciate them all, and am grateful both for the times they made me leave the house to socialize, and for the times they let me off the hook because they knew getting off the couch was more than I could handle. Equally important qualities in my opinion.
I have a really great husband. It's hard to take someone for granted when you find yourself yipping and jumping like a dog when he walks in the door after work, because you're so starved for human companionship. His patience and sense of humor have kept me together, even when it felt like I was falling apart.
Finally, apparently I still have some readers, at least according to the stats. So for those of you who have continued to check in to this blog, or who have encouraged me to start posting again, thanks. It's nice to know you're still out there.
So...is it time to talk about food now? Ok? Ok.
I wanted to try something new for cranberries this Thanksgiving. I was raised on the canned jelly, progressed to the whole-berry sauce, and am now ready to graduate to making them from scratch. Cranberry sauce has never been my favorite part of the feast, but I always end up eating it anyway because the tartness cuts through the rest of the heavy flavors so well. When I came upon the recipe for Cranberry Relish with Orange and Ginger in Mark Bittman's book it sounded perfect; fresh, bright, and no cooking required.
All you do is take your fresh cranberries, orange segments, zest and sugar and whiz it around in the food processor until chunky. Just a few quick pulses did the job.
Then you stir in some freshly grated ginger, and let sit for at least 30 minutes before serving for the flavors to marry. I like this recipe over a cooked cranberry sauce because you could whip it up on the fly on turkey day without taking up a burner on the stove. Or you can make it the day before, and store in the fridge.
I think this is the best cranberry recipe I've ever tasted. It's tart, slightly sweet, a bit spicy from the ginger, and the berries have the most amazing texture. They have a really nice bite to them, as opposed to the mushiness you get with canned cranberries. This relish would be the perfect condiment for a turkey sandwich or wrap as well. Super yummy, simple and fresh. I'm looking forward to serving this for Thanksgiving, provided I can stop eating it and save some for next week.
Happy Thanksgiving Everybody!
Cranberry Relish with Orange and Ginger
Source: Mark Bittman's How to Cook Everything
1 large orange
12 oz fresh cranberries (recipe calls for 16 oz, but my store only had 12 oz bags, and 12 did the job just fine)
1/2 cup sugar
1 teaspoon grated fresh ginger
Use a microplane or zester to remove all zest from orange. Remove pith and separate orange into segments. Combine orange flesh, zest, sugar and cranberries in food processor. Pulse a few times until relish is chunky. Do not over-process or you'll end up with puree. Stir in ginger, and more sugar if needed. Let sit for 30 minutes for flavors to marry, or store for up to a few days in the fridge.
Thanksgiving Update: I had frozen the relish after I made it for this post, so that it would still be good for Thanksgiving dinner. When we ate it today, it was even better than it was fresh. All of the flavors were perfect, and the texture of the cranberries had softened just a bit. So if you were wondering if you could freeze this recipe, freeze on!
Bonzo Bean
for the love of all that's foody
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
Monday, July 25, 2011
No Recipe
I've been away longer than I expected. Life has gone all sorts of wrong. I'd like to tell you that I have been a paragon of strength and resilience during "these challenging times," but that wouldn't be true. I tried to write that post, and learned I'm a lousy liar. I think the only option left is to set my wounded pride aside, and write about what's real.
I had big plans for this summer. After several years on the high-tech roller-coaster I had a stable job. The people were nice, and the pay was decent. I began to believe that after all the years being patient, and paying my dues, it was my turn. After 13+ years of apartment life, the husband and I started looking at houses. We were beyond excited, and felt sure we'd have a house and be training our first puppy by September. It was so close.
I'd like to tell you that when I lost my job in May, I found comfort and solace in cooking. I'd spin a yarn about the days I spent standing over the stove, certain of better times ahead. I'd tell you about how I spent my mornings searching for jobs, and the afternoons creating new and delicious recipes. I'd tell you how this blog makes me happy when skies are gray, because that's what bloggers are supposed to say. Right?
But I can't stand to be in my kitchen. Every time I see that room I think of the kitchen in the house we lost. A poorly fried egg brought me to tears a couple weeks ago. I can't think of anything I want to cook, or anything I want to eat. I pass through just long enough to heat frozen pizzas. I will have to climb a mountain of Red Baron boxes to get back to who I was.
I haven't been resilient. I took my pathetic scraps of dreams, and wove them into a rope sturdy enough to batten down the lid of the box where I keep what was once "me" contained. The body moves through daily life on auto-pilot. It wanders the aisles of the grocery store, not having remembered driving there, or what it needed to buy. I am here, but not really. I do not feel strong.
I have escaped into books, the weight of each finished volume a barrier between me and all I don't want to face: the job search, unpredictable bosses, yet another shiny new opportunity I am cynically certain will result in little more than future disappointment. I read another book, stack it on top of the box, and am walled in.
I don't want for anything in this place I've made for myself. I don't dream of vacations, or pets, or children, or of a little backyard to sit and pass the time in the evening. It's nice in here, it's quiet. At some point I know I will have to break the bonds I've made and lift the lid. There will be other jobs, other houses, other kitchens. I will feel like myself again. I will want to cook.
Just not yet.
I had big plans for this summer. After several years on the high-tech roller-coaster I had a stable job. The people were nice, and the pay was decent. I began to believe that after all the years being patient, and paying my dues, it was my turn. After 13+ years of apartment life, the husband and I started looking at houses. We were beyond excited, and felt sure we'd have a house and be training our first puppy by September. It was so close.
I'd like to tell you that when I lost my job in May, I found comfort and solace in cooking. I'd spin a yarn about the days I spent standing over the stove, certain of better times ahead. I'd tell you about how I spent my mornings searching for jobs, and the afternoons creating new and delicious recipes. I'd tell you how this blog makes me happy when skies are gray, because that's what bloggers are supposed to say. Right?
But I can't stand to be in my kitchen. Every time I see that room I think of the kitchen in the house we lost. A poorly fried egg brought me to tears a couple weeks ago. I can't think of anything I want to cook, or anything I want to eat. I pass through just long enough to heat frozen pizzas. I will have to climb a mountain of Red Baron boxes to get back to who I was.
I haven't been resilient. I took my pathetic scraps of dreams, and wove them into a rope sturdy enough to batten down the lid of the box where I keep what was once "me" contained. The body moves through daily life on auto-pilot. It wanders the aisles of the grocery store, not having remembered driving there, or what it needed to buy. I am here, but not really. I do not feel strong.
I have escaped into books, the weight of each finished volume a barrier between me and all I don't want to face: the job search, unpredictable bosses, yet another shiny new opportunity I am cynically certain will result in little more than future disappointment. I read another book, stack it on top of the box, and am walled in.
I don't want for anything in this place I've made for myself. I don't dream of vacations, or pets, or children, or of a little backyard to sit and pass the time in the evening. It's nice in here, it's quiet. At some point I know I will have to break the bonds I've made and lift the lid. There will be other jobs, other houses, other kitchens. I will feel like myself again. I will want to cook.
Just not yet.
Saturday, April 23, 2011
Mother-Fantastic Carnitas
A couple weeks ago I wrote what I thought was a pretty good post about Carnitas.
Then I spent a week's worth of evenings tweaking it, adding photos and superfluous semicolons, as I am wont to do.
Last Sunday I went in for one last edit.
I clicked the little "undo" arrow to remove one word of type.
The whole post disappeared.
The next millisecond, the fantastic auto-save feature kicked in.
So long words, and thoughts, and time. Buh-bye.
FANTASTIC! Fan-Mothering-TASTIC!! (Dad, do you see what I'm doing here? I hope so, as it's entirely for your benefit.)
Skip to today, several days later.
I hoped that time would make me a little less bitter. I mean, this is really the definition of a first-world problem.
Whatever, still totally annoyed.
For the rest of my life this delicious, wonderful, amazing meal will be known as Mother-Fantastic Carnitas. But I'd make them again. They're that good. Here's how you do it.
Buy some pork shoulder. Rinse it and pat it dry.
Rub it all over with spices.
Put it in the crock pot with some onion, bay leaves and chicken broth.
Warning: if you stubbornly stuff your crock pot this full you will have to keep your eye on it to remove excess liquid so that it doesn't boil over. Save the liquid for day two. The pork cooked up beautifully, so even though it's very full, it worked out fine.
After 10 hours on low, remove the pork from the pot and let cool before refrigerating overnight. Save all cooking liquid as well. The next day the liquid looks like this.
Eeewww. But once you remove the fatty layer from the top...
Ew Ew Ew! You're left with some really great flavor to add back to the meat as it cooks a second time.
Break down the cooked pork, reserve onions. Discard bay leaves, strings that held pork together, and extra bits of fat.
When you're done you'll have a gorgeous pan full of shredded pork that is now ready to become Mother-Fantastic Carnitas.
The transformation comes in the second phase of cooking where the pork turns into the crispy yet succulent bits of meat found in a true Carnita. Pour some milk on the pork and stir before putting in the oven. As weird as it may sound, the milk helps the pork get all brown and delicious.
As the pork cooks, add the warmed cooking liquid back to the pan, as well as some orange juice. The OJ adds a great citrus contrast to the fattiness of the pork.
Now that is the perfect filling for the perfect taco. All it needs is a warmed corn tortilla, pico de gallo, fresh cilantro, and a squeeze of lime juice.
| Pico De Gallo: onion, tomato, jalapeno pepper, garlic, cilantro, fresh lime juice, lime zest, salt and pepper. |
| Fresh Cilantro |
I ate this. It was REAL good. Some might even say, Mother-Fantastically good.
Mother-Fantastic Carnitas, Bonzo Bean style
Ingredients: (cut this recipe in half if you don't want a TON of leftovers. I planned it that way. Stay tuned for Carnitas Tamales.)
10 lbs pork shoulder
1 white onion, quartered
1 c chicken broth
4 bay leaves
Spice Rub:
2 t garlic powder
2 t cumin
2 t chili powder
2 t thyme
1 t oregano
1/2 t celery seed
1/4 t cayenne pepper
Directions:
Rinse and dry pork. Rub with spices. Put in crock pot with bay leaves and onion. Drizzle in chicken broth. Cook on low for 10 hours.
If you do the full recipe, monitor crock pot throughout cooking time to remove excess liquid and prevent a spill-over. Save all liquid.
When pork is done and falling apart, remove to a container and let cool before refrigerating overnight. Save all cooking liquid and refrigerate as well. You can strain it if you wish, but it's not necessary.
On day 2, shred the pork, reserve onions, discard extra fat, strings and bay leaves. Spread the pork out in a large roasting pan. Heat oven to 325.
Pour 1 c of milk over the shredded pork and stir. Cook in the oven for 30 minutes. While pork is cooking, heat the liquid from day 1. After pork has cooked for 30 minutes, add about 2 c of liquid to the pan and stir. Cook for 30 minutes more.
Remove pork from oven and add 1/2 of orange juice. Stir. Cook for about 20 minutes until pork is brown, crispy, and succulent.
Heat reserved onions in a skillet until brown and crispy. Fold Carnitas into a warmed corn tortilla, top with onions, pico de gallo, and a squeeze of fresh lime juice.
Enjoy!
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