Hoppin' John

My mother, a dear lady of Southern extraction, is a masterful cook who can make something palatable just by stirring it. This is her recipe for Hoppin' John, a dish of black-eyed peas and pork. It's traditional in the South to eat black-eyed peas on New Year's Day if you want good luck for the rest of the year. I've never found this to hold true, but if you're a fan of rituals or the power of suggestion, by all means, indulge. This is good the other 364 days of the year, too!

You will need:

16 oz. black-eyed peas (I use frozen; if using dry, have beans soaked and picked over before starting this dish. Avoid canned.)
2 ham hocks, or 1 smoked pork butt
2 shallots or 1/2 small onion, chopped (optional)
bay leaf

In a medium stock pot, cover the ham hocks or smoked butt with water, drop in the bay leaf and bring to a boil. Reduce to a simmer and cook 1-1 1/2 hours. The cooking time can be completely dependent on your schedule, mood and whims if you're using ham hocks - they are quite indestructible. If using smoked butt, cook until meat is tender and easy to pull apart.

Remove the meat from the water, and skim fat from the top with a large spoon.

mmm, hocks

Bring water back to a simmer and drop in the beans and chopped onion/shallots, if using. If you're using frozen beans, they should be done in about 30 minutes. If you're using soaked dry beans, finish cooking according to directions on package.

While the beans are cooking, chop up the meat. I had bad luck with the ham hocks this time around - couldn't get a scrap off them. It later came to be known, via mom the cook, that I was doing it wrong. Oh well! I sometimes prefer it without the actual meat, as ham is a smidge too salty for my liking. This dish is good with or without - having the beans cook in the pork broth gives it plenty of flavor.

When beans are done, reserve about 2 cups of the broth and drain the rest. Mix meat (or not) with the beans and reserved broth.

Serve over white rice, topped with chopped tomatoes and scallions, shredded cheddar cheese, and as much Louisiana hot sauce as you please. If you are a reasonable person, you might also want some jalapeno corn bread as an accompaniment (1 pkg. Jiffy + 1 large jalapeno, minced + 1/4 cup shredded cheddar.)

Roasted Butternut Squash and Sweet Potatoes

On the not-wasting-produce tip, I smile smugly to myself when I buy things like potatoes and squash, knowing that I can let them languish in the produce bowl twice as long without consequence. I am the queen of big plans with little follow-through, so basically, these items give me ample time to convince/guilt myself into cooking instead of eating toast with marmalade or baby carrots for dinner (these work in a pinch, but ultimately give me a sense of wasted potential).

I work from home during the evenings, and when I'm not too busy I like to put something together that is short on prep work and long on oven-cooking so I can ignore it. This side (or main, if you're a big fan of the veg in question) takes about 10 minutes to prepare and 45 minutes to roast. It is absolutely delicious.

There are some variations which I will explain below, but here's the general idea:

Roasted Butternut Squash and Sweet Potatoes

1 medium-large size butternut squash, peeled and cut into large cubes (~1.5 inch a side)
1 large or 2 smaller sweet potatoes, peeled and cut into medium cubes (~1 inch a side)
2 cloves of garlic, minced
1-2 shallots, halved lengthwise with layers separated
Olive oil (2-3 T does the trick)
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper

Heat oven to 375F.

In a 9x13 baking dish, toss all ingredients until well mingled. Shake dish to distribute in an even layer. Place in oven, tossing with a spatula every 15 minutes to discourage sticking and burning. Check for doneness after 45 minutes; cook an additional 10-15 minutes if necessary.

Variations: When I started making this, I would cut 2 T of butter into strips and distribute it throughout the dish before baking. This is both rich and delicious, but omitting the butter still yields successful results. The butternut squash itself is quite creamy and rich-tasting, so only use butter if you're feeling particularly decadent.

The shallot: this was the first time I'd used a shallot, and it was a welcome addition. Roughly chopped red onion would probably be good too.

I ate a small serving of this the night of, and the next day ate the leftovers for dinner with a big glass of white wine. I didn't heat them up, which I think makes them "chilled hors d'oeuvres."

No chili left behind

On New Year's Day 2009, I resolved to be more mindful of wasting produce. The maxim has met with mixed success, but in general I try to have a recipe in mind when I head to the store. However, my local grocery has their fruits and vegetables displayed so alluringly, it's often hard to keep myself from loading up on more rapini, cucumbers, cilantro, etc. than I will ever be able to use in their lifespans.

A dish that can help ease elderly vegetables to their final resting place is, of course, the stir-fry. I was proud of myself this week when I whipped one up using kale (I bought too much last weekend), green beans (there are usually some languishing in the crisper), some scallions that were looking quite sad until I peeled off their outer layers, and tofu (there was a vegetarian in our midst).

My wok is also rather sad, and is unable to both support the volume of a stir-fry and thoroughly cook its components at the same time. So everything got cooked separately and thrown together for a few minutes at the end. I dry-fried the tofu in squares, just enough to brown it on the outside - no oil or cooking spray of any kind, just throw those happy little bean curd slices in a dry, hot skillet over medium heat, turning every 5-7 minutes until desired crust is achieved. The kale and green beans were blanched in salted, simmering water for five minutes. I heated about 1 T of canola oil in the skillet, adding the sliced green onion and two minced cloves of garlic. When those were cooked to my satisfaction, the rest of the ingredients were added, along with a generous glug of mushroom soy sauce (a thicker variety, more conducive to sauces), pre-minced garlic and ginger mix (was going to grate real ginger root, until I discovered the section in the fridge had shuffled off this mortal coil), Sriracha and red pepper flakes. I tossed until it was all warmed through and then I ate it.

In a second triumph for not wasting produce, for dessert I made myself a dish of the unserved vanilla ice cream and fruit mix from the dinner party. With a tiny cup of coffee and milk, it tasted much better than on Saturday, the fruit perhaps having advanced a bit in the ripening and melding-flavors processes. Plus, coffee with dessert makes things twice as good, always, even though I slept horribly that night. When I informed my boyfriend of said triumph, he replied "that fruit is probably rotten by now."

Me 1, Potential Disasters 0

Dinner Party went off without a hitch. I had four guests, one of whom was called to work about half an hour before the start of the party. Thankfully she was able to TCB and rejoin the gang in time for the festivities.

The pork recipe proved to be quite time-consuming indeed. Even reading through it a few times didn't prepare me for the task of de-membraning three grapefruit - which I did in front of the television - but it all came together quite well. I think adrenaline got me through the last half hour. People were here, I was still trying to get my shit together, I almost burned the fries, the table wasn't set. So, yes, adrenaline and a few successes. The pork came out of the oven perfectly, though it took about half an hour longer to get to 165F than the recipe stated. Earlier in the day I'd bought an instant-read digital thermometer, so as not to poison my guests with rare pork. My old dial thermometer wasn't cutting it anymore. I rarely have 10 minutes to watch it crawl to the accurate reading.

What else? I made a salad that's proven a hit with this crowd before. I think the most notable thing about this meal for me was the widespread lack of garlic in the dishes. My food is usually drowning in the stuff, much to the chagrin of my dear devoted boyfriend and kissing partner. There were three crushed cloves in the roasting pan, which were strained out before serving. I would have put some in the kale, but I didn't even have an opportunity to mince any thanks to my time-management skills, or lack thereof.

For dessert, I'd considered buying a wee cake from this delicious bakery down the street, but at the last minute decided on fruit with vanilla ice cream. I chopped up mangoes (Manilla Mangoes, to be specific, which apart from their small size didn't seem much different from standard mangoes), plums and papaya. All this is irrelevant: the wine was a-flowin', and dessert was forgotten. I had a small dish after the déluge had passed, and was happy that I'd skipped serving it. Once a year or so I taste papaya and am mostly repulsed, yet I keep on with it hoping that my palate will change. Frankly, I think it is the durian of the West.

Forthwith, the kale and salad recipes that helped me win this round of Katie vs. Dinner. The salad dressing is c/o Tyler Florence.

Braised Kale

2 bunches kale, de-veined, chopped and washed
1 1/2-2 cups chicken broth
1 small or 1/2 large red onion, chopped
1 large cl. garlic, minced*
Crushed red pepper flakes

In a stockpot, bring the chicken broth and onions to a boil. Turn down to a simmer, add the kale and cover, steaming for 10-12 minutes or until kale is limp, but not mushy. Add more chicken broth as needed. Remove from heat, add red pepper flakes, toss and serve. Makes six generous helpings.

*Like I said, no garlic in this past iteration, but I usually use it.

Arugula Salad with Honey Mustard Vinaigrette

For the salad:

5-6 oz. arugula
1 Bartlett pear, cored and thinly sliced (it's better if the pear is slightly less-than-ripe)
1 brie triangle (choose a harder kind, or keep in fridge until ready to use), cut into bite-size pieces
3/4 cup chopped walnuts or sliced almonds

For the dressing:

1 shallot, finely minced
1 teaspoon Dijon mustard
2 teaspoons red wine vinegar
1/4 cup extra-virgin olive oil
1 teaspoon sugar
1 teaspoon honey
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper

Mix dressing ingredients in a food processor until finely blended. Add to salad, toss and serve.

For the dressing, I sometimes substitute a large clove of garlic for the shallot. The shallot gives the whole salad a very onion-y flavor. It tastes great, but is very strong and tends to overwhelm the other ingredients. Substituting a single garlic clove actually ends up being mellower in this instance.

Sweet Potato Oven Fries*

*more like fat, squishy matchsticks, but let's stick with our socially normed terminology here.

Last time I made sweet potato oven fries, I followed a recipe from "In The Kitchen With Rosie" by Rosie Daley, Oprah's one-time personal chef. The book appeared at the crest of yet another of Oprah's health kicks, and so the recipes call for lots of hot sauce and bread crumbs and low-fat yogurt to help create a simulacra of delicious fried and flavorful goodies. The oven fries called for an egg white coating and an eyebrow-raising amount of cajun seasoning. What I ended up with were fries that were half burned, half just-cooked, with crusty chords of egg white and the bold saltiness of the cajun flavoring taking center stage. Ew.

In preparation for Dinner Party, I scoured message boards and ad-laden recipe sites for a better approach to sweet potato oven fries. Had I a Fry Daddy, things would be different, but seeing as I've already set my oven on fire once, a cauldron of boiling oil is not high on the list of things I want in my kitchen. Moving on...

The primary complaint about oven fries, the sweet kind in particular, is that they don't get crispy enough. They come out soggy or charred; there's no in-between. I read many suggestions, some that would not work for me (no convection oven here, you see), and ultimately tried an amalgam of steps from different recipes that I thought would yield a tasty, if not crisp, oven fry.

Sweet Potato Oven Fries

2 medium-large sweet potatoes
olive oil
kosher salt
freshly ground black pepper
cayenne pepper
brown sugar

Preheat oven to 425F.

Cut the potatoes in half, width-wise, then halve each half. Cut each of the subsequent quarters into 3-4 thick strips, about an inch wide and 3 inches long.

In an aluminum or glass bowl, soak the potato sticks in cold water for 20 min. This will help release some of the starch, giving you a better chance for a toothsome fry.

After soaking, dry potatoes with paper towels; rinse and dry the bowl you soaked them in. In the bowl, toss the dried potatoes, olive oil, salt, pepper and cayenne. I've left out measurements here because this is easy to eyeball, and the amounts are dependent on personal preference. I put in 8 enthusiastic shakes of cayenne and they had a good, but not overwhelming, heat.

Choose a jelly roll pan or cookie sheet that will allow you to spread the fries out with enough room so that none touch each other. Cover the pan with parchment paper, then spread potatoes over the paper. Cook on the middle rack of the oven for 15-20 min, keeping an eye out so they don't get too browned (temp might need to be a little lower if your oven runs hot; these fries are precarious.) After 15 min, turn or toss fries to encourage even cooking, and return to oven for 10 more minutes.

After 10 minutes, remove the fries from the oven and toss with brown sugar - not enough to coat them completely - maybe 2-3 flat tablespoons. Return to oven for 3-5 min. The sugar will caramelize, leaving nice sweet crunchy bits in strategic areas. Remove from oven and serve warm.

**

The interplay of sweet and spicy was a real treat. A thinner fry would have crisped up better, of course, but sweet potatoes' squishiness is part of their charm, no?

A Dinner Dilemma

This coming Saturday, I've promised to cook a birthday dinner for a friend. Her only request was that I incorporate kale. After that dish, I'm a bit lost. She and her husband, and me and my boyfriend, have been on "diets" lately (I use the term loosely) -- we are all happy imbibers, but winter in Chicago tends to turn your average bon vivant into a gros bon vivant, and come March, action must be taken.

I considered a few reasonable dishes (roast chicken, oven fried chicken, chicken with pollo, etc.) Being mindful of my butter and oil intake is bearable for the everyday meal, but for a special occasion, I feel fine casting aside the diet mindset. A loin of pork signaled me from the freezer, and I answered the call of duty.

Recently, in a fit of nostalgia, I bought the entire 1992 run of Gourmet magazine on eBay. This was right before the magazine's demise, so that compelled my purchase as well. Largely the recipes are trendy by 1992 standards - modern Italian seems to have been culinary king then - or would leave me with heaps of leftovers to conquer by myself, thanks to my partner's selective tastes. But a few in each issue are both appetizing and just challenging enough to attempt. Thanks to the April 1992 issue, this weekend I shall endeavor to make...

Roast Pork Loin with Grapefruit

**Edit: My blog got "removed" the other day without explanation, and I have an inkling it might have something to do with posting a recipe from Gourmet while it's available on Epicurious. So, to avoid any further disruption, I'll just link to the recipe here and trust my gentle reader to click through.

I'm planning on serving this with the aforementioned braised kale and sweet potato oven fries. The correct method for preparing sweet potato oven fries seems to be the foundation of a lively internet debate; I'm going to experiment with a couple tonight and see what's what.

Ahem

I have false-started many blogs before, but never one so focused on a single endeavor. After toying with the idea of a food blog for a few months, today seemed the opportune time to give it a go. I proclaim no exceptional proficiency in the kitchen; I'm only a lady who loves to cook and be cooked for, and certainly one who loves to eat, almost anything. I skew towards the garlicky, the eggy, the salty and the citrus-kissed, but there's room inside for a bit of everything. Scratch that: no water chestnuts or raisins shall cross my lips if I have anything to do with it.

Thanks for reading.