in the meantime

So, while I'm "pacing" out the meat, I keep wondering what else could I do. Tales of the bowl of cereal I made or which of the two apples I bought was better just don't seem as compelling as a smoke filled kitchen and seared meaty goodness. 

One thing that's been occurring to me is, I've been doing a better job of just following directions than I have at elevating my ability to actually cook. Certainly I've learned some things and got to experiment a little bit, but there's some fundamentals I'm severely lacking.

I think in the distant and foggy past, I was able to prep cook to a degree. I kind of remember doing that sort of thing in between sneaking off to hide in the walk-in and dropping crates of rented glasses. So since Molecular Gastronomy may be a bit out of my league, we're going back to the basics to kill the time in between the sweet, sweet meat. mmmmmmmm, meat.

I've done a bunch of research and found some good sources on knife skills (even ones that say "always cut away from you, except when you're cutting toward you"...huh?). Some even with instructional videos and exercises. Sure, why not. I'm supposed to be eating more fruit and vegetables now anyway right? I knew my knives were pretty bad, they were the cheapest block set I could find, but eh, they'll do. So my chef knife is serrated, has no bolster and is a bit short, it's all in the skills right? Plus it feels funny using a tool dubbed "chef's" anything while I'm...me. By the way, I guess you're never supposed to buy a knife block set for some reason. They're bad news.

So this should be fun if I can keep all my fingers. People love a train wreck right? Either way, sleep sound, the next steak is soon and in the mean time, I think it's celery that's under the knife first. 

one week later...

State of the Union

So, to answer your first question, it has been a week since I last posted. Rarely, but sometimes, I actually have things I need to do. However this wasn't one of those weeks. There's a couple reasons that now will unfortunately be affecting my upkeep of these scribblings and the whole experiment in general. For one, the restaurant I'm starting at was delayed by yet another week, so matching up a lack of income till into November with this economy, some of the more interesting and exotic things I had planned will have to simplify. My health not to be outdone by a lack of funds of course, the blood work of my physical came back. *sigh* Not to get too into it, but I'm fine. That is so long as I watch what I eat for the next six months including a specific reference to moderating my red meat intake (bastard doctor). We're not jumping off the track in a fiery blaze or anything, but I'll be "moderating" my steaks down to one or two a week. I guess that's not too different than what I've been doing, so never mind. It'll just have to be my ONLY red meat for the week. Heed this more as a warning that the near future delights will be minimal and "healthy(er)". I'll try to make up for a lack of flair with my wit and good looks....god help us all. 

This is all not to say I didn't already have another meal planned out before evaluating the overall situation, but before getting into that, let me tell you briefly about the Tillamook Macaroni and Cheese world championship last night.

Macaroni and Cheese and Cheese

When I have mentioned previously about Oregonians and their pride in local goods, that was no freaking joke, and nothing made that clearer than this event. I have lived in many cities, in many area's of the country and I have never faced local or regional pride like these people. Whenever cheese is mentioned, it's preceded by saying "Tillamook", and when that happens, the applause isn't pandering or half hearted, it's thunderous. One would be inclined to think Robert Gray and the 'Lady Washington' drove the snakes out of Oregon or lead the charge on San Juan Hill. Ilan Hall, Master of Ceremonies could mention truffles without a reaction, but correcting himself by saying, "by the way, they are local truffles" brings the house down.

To further add to this sense of grandeur, the event may as well have been black tie. When I read that Kells pub was hosting, I assumed it to be a laid back affair. Well, Kell's was the doorway. Passing through the pub you found out back the large tent taking up a parking lot. Clip board checkers at the door and everyone at first glance seemed to be decked out for the symphony rather than for comfort food. Fortunately for me, a handful more in jeans showed up eventually. 

Up front there was a riser colorfully spotlighting the six stations for the finalists, and a couple rows or dining tables for the judges, followed behind by a couple hundred folding chairs for the rest of us. I was scared with the set up as it seemed no one but the judges would get to sample the dishes but we were all assured our share. 

While the finalists worked away, we were treated to free wine, beer, cheese, and demonstrations by Kells executive chef (irish pubs have executive chefs?) of her stout and cheese soup (absolutely fantastic) and by Ilan himself on his "Scottish/Jewish" mac and cheese, and they should all feel lucky he wasn't in competition with them, it was some of the best I've ever had. 

When the cooks were done, small dishes were passed out to us and after Tillamook cheese (WOOHOO) samples, Tillamook (YEEHAW) cheese/stout soup and some of Ilan's Tillamook (you get the idea) mac and cheese, six more small dishes will fill you up quick. Here's the link to the six finalists again:

http://www.macaroniandcheeseandcheese.com/contest/

I think I wasn't alone in a bit of upset that the Caramelized sweet potato, garlic and rosemary mac took the gold. Not that it was bad, it just didn't do it for me as much as a couple of others. While I can't say I'm a huge supporter of Chanterelles, the smokey black pepper cheese one had the most interesting strait up cheese flavor for me, and texturally, the cornbread topped apple (viewers choice winner by a mile and a half) and the souffle mac and cheese were my favorites.

Once again I've rambled on about things that have nothing to do with me cooking myself a steak dinner, but really, a mac and cheese competition is certainly worthy a little detour. But onto an actual meal...

Chopped Cobb

This seemed a completely ludicrous salad recipe, so of course I had to try it. Plus, I love chopped salad, and I love Cobb salad so, yeah. This didn't just call for lettuce, it called for:

1 Small head of Romaine

1/2 head of Iceberg

8-10 leaves of red leaf lettuce

and 1/2 bunch of watercress (sure, I'll admit that until this I thought watercress was a root vegetable)

Chop it up and mix it in a specific order for some reason with blue cheese crumbles and chopped up: 1/2 pound of bacon

2 large hardboiled eggs

1 large, ripe tomato

3 green onions

1 large, ripe avocado

That is the largest mixing bowl I had and tossing all this together was difficult enough to cut back the recipe some just to fit in there. Yes, I'll be eating this salad for 2 weeks now thank you. I'm very glad I didn't follow through with my initial thought of "all those greens are silly, I'm just going to use Romain." The mix of those greens together was fantastic, and it all together is good enough I'm eager to continue eating it before my giant bowl of salad begins to wilt. 

The Dressing

The dressing provided with the salad recipe is mustard based and I don't care much for mustard (no matter how much this particular one calls for rendered bacon fat to be used as well). Plus I don't have any red wine vinegar on hand and I was buying enough as it was. So I did a nice easy substitute all with stuff I had here already. And partially using proportions from and oil and vinegar concoction I found, and partially all on my own. Go me. It was a cup of e.v.o.o., 1/3 cup balsamic, and some touches of honey, salt, pepper, onion powder and paprika. I fought off the urge and instinct to use garlic in it as well seeing as how everything else that follows uses tons of garlic already.

Pommes Boulangére

The great thing about typing these out for you rather than talking to you about them is I don't have to pronounce words like Boulangére. And yeah, I'm pretty sure the accent mark goes the other way, but I don't know how to do that one. I'll just butcher, or rather "boucheron" the French language instead. Sorry, Jacques, but as you taught me when I was a kid, "Je parle le Francais comme une vache espagnole." Speaking of Le Pépin, this is one of his.

It began with cutting up 2 pounds of boiling potatoes (which after careful research I took to mean "red") much in the same way I did for the robinson potato disaster or any gratin I guess. With the aide of the ben riner, it was much easier this time (funny story about that, I saw the same mandolin today for the same price but twice as wide....dammit...). Then Layering the unwashed slices in a large (I'm really learning how relative of a term "large" is) gratin dish, adding to it sautéed onions which have been boiled with chicken stock (or in my case broth), garlic slices, bay leave, thyme, salt and pepper. It is then placed in a 400 degree oven for an hour probably longer or as they like to say "Till well browned on top" which may work in a perfect world where everyone's oven doesn't run 75 degrees cooler than it says it is. Discard the bay leaves assuming you can find them, and top with parsley.

For an actual detailed breakdown of this, please see "Jacques Pépin's Simple and Healthy Cooking." All kinds of good stuff in there. For me it seemed to work out fine. It was nice and oniony where I classically expect there to be a cheesy gratin. I'm not sure how much of the broth, if any, was supposed to be in the bottom of the dish when it was done, but there was a bit, and it was fine. With an expected serving size of six, I now have something to eat alongside the chopped cobb for the next two weeks. 

Pan-Broiled Steak with Marsala and Hot Pepper Sauce

Talk about a good match for a piece of meat and a way to prepare it. I used one of the top choice secret reserve prime what have you steaks. And I really wish the camera pulled it together on this one because if in focus, it may come close to looking as good as it was. This "Bistecca alla diavola", which I assume means something along the line of "pan-broiled steak with etc etc" comes from "The Classic Italian Cookbook". That is it's name, not something I'm putting down because I can't remember what it's called.

The steak itself started out as I've become accustomed with a pan sear, but it wants for this recipe to be quite rare, so there was nothing additional done to it strait away past the searing. I put it on it's oven plate while doing the rest. The trick became doing everything else quickly because there was more to do with the steak before it totally settled, and since it wasn't cooked heavily, there wasn't that much retreat into the center for the juices. 

Once the sear was done, and the steak is seasoned now with salt and pepper and put aside, all fat but a couple tablespoons is dumped from the pan and a mix of marsala and red wine added like a deglaze (that's right? deglaze yeah?). This caused an atomic bomb level mushroom cloud in my kitchen that after just having watched a show on grease fires, made me nervous for a second. But I'd be lying if I said it wasn't kind of neat. But the marsala and wine, I stirred for 30 seconds at a boil, scraping the bottom of the pan to get all the goodness up and into it, then added the garlic for only a couple turns of the spoon, then fennel seeds for a few more seconds. Turning the heat down diluted tomato paste and chopped red pepper is tossed in and in about a minute, it should be "thick and syrupy". Oh yes it was.

After it reaches that consistency, I got to toss the steak back into the mixture just long enough to coat and cook it a bit in the sauce. It was then toss it on a plate, garnish with parsley and back to our good old friend "serve IMMEDIATELY". It at no point had instructed to use additional sauce from the pan  as a topper, perhaps because it's meant for four steaks instead of my one, so it may not expect any left over, but I did it anyway. Well worth it.

It may have been the choice in marsala and red wine with the help in texture from the fennel seeds, but the sauce was like a warm, spiced raspberry marmalade. I may have to make just this part again to see if it works as a lengthy marinade rather than a finisher. It was good enough I wanted to spread it on toast the next morning.

Well, that's all for now. Time to start hunting for those "simple and (eep) healthy" ways of doing things (and just when I was going to attempt a Beef Wellington, aw shucks). I know we would all rather not but, that whole heart exploding thing. Going to try to avoid it. 

Physical! (the aftermath)

So, on Wednesday I finally went in for the physical I've been putting off for three years. Pending my bloodwork coming back next week, all seemed good on the once over. Sure there was the usual, "get more exercise" but I knew that, I think everyone knew that (I wonder if a doctor has ever gotten a "no, everything is peachy" answer to when they ask "are you under any stress?" It's a pointless question and should just be assumed much like giving wheel of fortune contestants the RLSNTE for free on the final puzzle). Also there is a chance my blood pressure is lower than they think as the student nurse who took it was the cutest damn thing to ever ask me to put my hand on her shoulder. 

My doctor is a wonderful old man. When we talked about my eating habits, I told him about the cooking for myself now, the organic eating and though I contemplated not mentioning the chest of red meat in my kitchen, I broke down (more from pride over a chest of red meat in my kitchen rather than open full disclosure to the man who needs to know about it). All he really had to say about it when I mentioned it was, "Awesome." So long as I'm not putting meat into a blender and injecting it directly into the chest, he seemed to love the idea (1 out of 2 isn't bad, but more on that in a minute).

To cap off finally getting around to this, I wanted to do something special and horrible before I'm told to knock it off. It's one thing when family and friends are concerned about you and want you to eat better, you can fairly safely assume they have some sort of interest in your well being. But when a near stranger (as much as you can consider someone who pokes and prods you inappropriately a stranger) tells you, perhaps you should take certain warnings to heart. 

It only seemed fair that I finally do the Julia Burger. Since I was over on that side of town anyhow, I went to Ken's Artisan Bakery for a focaccia roll to book end it. I did this, after having fasted for then 15 hours and a massive amount of blood taken from me for analysis. It was only later that evening I realized maybe that's why the girl at the counter was having trouble understanding what it was I wanted. I'll also attribute the loss of blood for why I just ate scraps and didn't end up cooking at all that day. The burger would have to wait till Thursday. 

Thursday

The Chips

As you may recall I had quite the stock pile of 1/8 inch slices of red potato left over from the simultaneously failed and successful Robinson Ranch Potatoes. And lo and behold they still seemed to be in good shape refrigerated in an air tight container. Seemed to be anyway. The chip recipe was short and simple and I thought couldn't be too bad. 

I would love to tell you the chips were flawless crispy discs of vibrant pleasure. That the brown edging on a lot of them was the best part and not bitter at all. That the old five dollar mandolin I used had cut them as perfectly as they appeared to be.

So I will. 

(pieces of the paragraph that follows may, in fact, be bold faced lies)

You don't need a fancy slicer to make good even chips. The cheap one you have won't at all slice in a manner which leaves anywhere from a quarter to half the chip tapering remarkably thinner than the rest of it. And even if it did, this would pose no problems in trying to evenly bake chips to a golden brown. If a chip does brown too much, it tastes not bitter, but somehow of fine sweet mountain honey and silky butter churned by bavarian virgins. You can also ignore any suggestions about how many baths to run the uncooked chips through and trust the one that says, "rinse till the water runs clear". And a chip half soggy raw and half dark brown are a delightful tease on the palate.

But there were about five of them that miraculously made it through the process effectively. The rest I cooked some more and though parts got overdone, they became at least edible enough without leaving me looking around for a tin can of hot water to make bread line soup.

There is a great number of combinations in the things that could have gone awry with them, I just have to practice and experiment with them some more before I make them for an actual meal again. One thing I believe I did get right, was clarifying the butter. I've heard this term before and finally got to do it. Still lacking a very small sauce pot to clarify a tablespoon of butter in, I turned once again to the trusty muffin pan. I just added the butter to a section of the pan on a burner, and while probably entirely unsafe, seemed to do the trick.

The "Julia" Burger

While I could just as easily do my own take on "Carol cooks Keller" using the Cree LeFavour book I've been keen on lately as my source, I promise this will be the last recipe out of this particular book (for a little while at least). She keeps wanting me to use peanut oil and I miss olive oil. The Julia Burger is her take on a burger inspired by a rerun of Jacques and Julia. She attributes it to "the Julia Child ethos - a fearless embrace of all things fatty and an unwavering devotion to pleasure." How could this not be my post physical meal? However I with I tried out the crispy onion rings she places with it rather than the above mentioned "chips".

Not only did it look fantastic, but the first instruction involves putting meat in a blender (I may have told my doctor about the meat, but not about this blog, we're safe) which on its own sounded like a bunch of fun. After cutting a top sirloin (seemed to not have any fat to trim off it, so went with that cut) into four parts, I got to blend the meat back to raw elements. This was brief, but a lot of fun even if I felt a little twinge of guilt about treating a steak in such a manner. But if Julia liked the idea, I like the idea.

As always these recipes are for more than one, this one serves four, and I was supposed to start with 1 1/2 pounds of steak, do the blending with some salt and pepper and shape them into 1/3 pound patties. I don't have a kitchen scale, but I think I got it ok. I just had to shut my eyes real tight and try to drum up some of that weird "instinct" I felt a twinge of last Sunday. It's almost like discovering super powers. I have to see if I can hone them before I blow up a city block or something adapting. 

It was hard to resist packing the meat together tightly or patting it down while cooking it, but I guess "air is good". Seemed to be, and comparing this to things I've tried in the past at steakhouses, I have to say a steak made into a hamburger is better than a hamburger steak.

The other stuff on the bun (and the bun)

So if you look at that picture above and think "that looks nothing like a focaccia roll," you would be thinking correctly. Even putting it off for one day caused the already quite firm bakery roll to harden even more. This is already a large enough burger that trying it on an unyielding bun, I don't know if it would have fit. Lucky for me, I'm learning that when I question the outcome of something, try to have an easy back up (I now just have to learn to question more of my potential outcomes). This is why I had a poppy seed roll handy. This is also why, having never put meat in a blender, I also defrosted one of the burger patties, that I can see myself cooking in the same way after I'm done with this entry (you know, purely to compare the two. It's scientific). 

As with the last bun I had, I just used the 170 degree oven I rest the meat in to finish to warm them up. After that is was that agave ketchup on both top and bottom. The recipe calls for mayo, but no, I've never been a fan. 

On the burger it went, cheese, bacon, lettuce, tomato, onion. The new, good mandolin was a little narrow to give me nice, unbroken circles on the onion, but big deal. Rather than the butchers counter bacon I usually get, I tried some nice applewood smoked packaged bacon. This worked out ok, but took me by surprise how different even the cooking of it really was to fresh cut counter bacon. The Cheese. Well, here's the thing about the cheese.

Oregonians take their Tillamook cheese very seriously. I defy you to find a menu in this city with a dish containing cheese that doesn't say something along the lines of "Tillamook cheese platter" or "Steak and Tillamook cheese" or "something crusted with something else in a sauce of something and, oh yeah, Tillamook cheese". Well, I didn't want to buy packaged cheese slices. Not when cheese in a giant hunk is so much better. People of Oregon, I did try to find local cheese in a size less than a Lincoln Continental, I'm just one man. All the wrapped Tillamook being way too large for even me to reasonably think of something to do with, I found a good looking New Zealand white sharp cheddar and it was square and high enough that it looked like it would turn into maybe 6 slices. Dare I say without getting evicted, it was some damn good cheese. Once I figured out how to get it on the burger that is. 

I don't have a cheese knife, a cheese plane, or dedicated cheese slicer of any sort. My grater, the wide slots were very narrow. There was only one conceivable option under the gun of a sizzling burger. The Mandolin. 

Yesterday I learned that chips are harder than they look, that focaccia wants to be used pretty quick, and that brittle New Zealand sharp cheddar doesn't like a mandolin. There were enough salvageable scraps I was able to place together on top of the meat to almost look like it would melt into something resembling a slice of cheese. So thus far, Adam 1 - Cheese 0.

Note to future, employed, rich Adam:

Kitchen Scale

Cheese Plane

A wide fancy restaurant slicer

A Camera that can focus

for now I'm still chalking these up as luxury items

Weekend Extravaganza!

Clearly, as you all know, I'm a mad crazy weekend party animal. I live for the fast paced crowded noise of...other people, and rarely isolate myself at all. But even I sometimes admit I go too far. This past weekend was one of those times. Not only did I do a steak on Saturday, but I did ANOTHER steak on Sunday, and both of them 10oz strips. Barely into the new Jewish calendar and already racking up the list of things to atone for. But chaos is my milk and madness my honey. 

Saturday Night Mashed Garlic and Irish Peas

The Meat

After the defeat of the last steak I did, I was worried about excess water retention boiling rather than cooking the meat. At least, that's what the article I had read lead me to believe since the grey mess I had fit the profile. Perhaps a little over paranoid about doing it again, I followed this said articles suggestion about massive over salting to draw out the water. In preparation this time, I smothered the poor piece of meat in a thick coat of coarse kosher salt on both sides following carefully the instruction, "as if a child had done it". Since my cooking skills rival that of your below average child, that was easy. 

The internet is a tricky place and it's important to keep in mind that anyone can post whatever they like from their prison cell or asylum, perhaps as a mad-capped joke or revenge on society. It is my understanding that there is a heavy salting method that doesn't turn your meat into jerky but this article was a little vague about specifics. Specifics such as, how to accurately remove the waterlogged salt when you're ready to cook, or how much of it will burrow its way into your steak. But my luck sometimes astounds me and, though admittedly a tad on the salty side and a bit dry, it was not a loss. It was still a descent steak. Not my finest by any delusion, but not nearly as bad as it could have been in my unsupervised hands.

Also, when told to sear the steak the steak for 3 minutes each side then turn down to a "moderate" heat and continue to cook for ten minutes turning over every two minutes, keep in mind that "moderate" is a widely variously interpreted term. At least to me. Luckily, as I've actually been growing a sense of instinct toward these steaks, I caught right away that it was ready much much faster than ten minutes. It was indeed probably ready after the searing, but I caught it quick enough that there was some remanence of pink and juicy somewhere in the center.

The Mash

I do love garlic. It's no black peppercorn or anything, but it is a fine, fine piece of foodery. The Garlic mash for the topper was fun and delicious and barely survived my ADD. I read directions. Compensating for lack of experience, I treat all these recipes like fragile chemistry experiments while I gather an understand of what the hell goes on while cooking. But occasionally I read a word and my brain decides to process it as something else. Occasionally though, my cat like reflexes save the day. While this was not one of those times, a second attempt and thoughtful adaptation prevailed.

It seemed simple, Simmer the garlic in chicken stock (in my case broth since the deli counter at the store just made soup and didn't have enough stock left to sell), then peel the skin off, toss the broth and mixture in a blender with salt and butter and only slightly blend to retain texture like a heated jelly. Texture? Jelly? What the hell were they talking about this is pretty much garlic chicken soup.

Here's an important tip. 3 heads of garlic is a tad more than 3 cloves of garlic. This I do know, I just must have missed that word initially. Well, I didn't have 3 heads of garlic, in fact, I only had a couple cloves left. But cutting down using my own version of approximation, I was able to render the garlic mash in a 3 clove portion and it was good stuff.

Irish Peas

Nothing should have a title for containing a couple things I may have tossed on my peas anyway. It's like calling a rum and coke with a lime wedge a cuba libre. It always just felt silly when people asked for them. Peas are a wonderful and easy food. I have even made peas prior to this endeavor. These "Irish" Peas were peas tossed with butter, mint, salt and pepper without even a hint or wink anywhere in the directions to incorporate baileys or Tullamore Dew. While they were good and all, there was something amiss about them that took me a moment of silent contemplation to figure out.

I had forgotten the number one rule of peas. How could I be so foolish? Peas need a friend. Preferably a starch. Poor lonely peas. The mint and gang just weren't enough to make them sing. I had to find the peas a friend, but it would have to wait for the Sunday night citrus and potato ho-down.

The Sunday Night Citrus and Potato Ho-Down

I like oranges, lemons, grapefruit, limes, all that jazz, and I've been wanting to get them together with the steaks since this all began. Starting to play with marinade's, I found a "spicy orange" one that seemed to fit the bill for now. Since it was an overnight marinade for both the meat and the red peppers, I prepared that before the Saturday night steak since by now I've learned that when I've finished one of these meals, I'm done for the day.

The Marinade was a blender full of orange zest, orange juice from the the ones I just zested, vegetable oil, garlic (yes, a couple cloves not heads or bulbs), soy sauce, crushed red pepper, cider vinegar, and salt. Side note: blending till smooth is much easier than slight blending to leave texture (freaking mashed garlic still haunting me).

Sure, it's enough marinade for the intended 6 steaks, but eh, what can you do. I'm not going to mess around with cutting stuff down all willy-nilly yet. Quartering a large red bell pepper sounds easy enough I didn't even think about it till I was standing over it knife in hand. This time the internet proved to be my friend. Who would have thought there was specific technique to it? Not I certainly, though I should have assumed since sometimes cooking can be a tremendous pain in the ass for those of us just breaking new ground. It didn't end up mattering anyhow as you shall see shortly.

Once I had the steak and peppers in a pan with the marinade, I covered in the fridge and moved onto Saturday nights affairs. To read more about Saturday night, scroll back up to the top and start over.

Robinson Bar Potatoes

Finding a suitable mate for the left over peas changed my side plans for the sunday meal and I found them some fantastic sounding potatoes. Everything this weekend with the exception of the marinade, came from Cree LeFavour's book, "The New Steak". This scalloped potato variation was apparently invented by her father to sooth cold January Idaho nights in the guest ranch. 

It involved slicing red potatoes into 1/8 inch discs, and in a large, shallow oven pan that has been greased with a cut CLOVE of garlic and then butter, layering them barely overlapped into three layers. In between each layer you add slight bits of Comte cheese (which he was very specific about) kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper. And yes, I did find a horrible, dirt cheap mandolin finally, but fear not for my fingertips, there's a thing you put over the vegetables and I have a better one arriving for me soon.

Once those layers are complete you pour in heavy cream so it nearly reaches the top (though sternly warned not to let it go over the top), dot a little butter and ground nutmeg and bake.

So, here's what happened with the potatoes. When they say large shallow oven pan, apparently he must mean one you can sleep in and not just the rectangular one I have opposed to the square one. I believe I had half, if not more, of the potato slices left after panning the used ones. This normally wouldn't be a problem for me except we're getting into baking here which of all my weak culinary spots, is my weakest. 

After 30 minutes at 400 degrees, most of the cream should have been absorbed by the potatoes and the top nicely browning. But, mine were swimming. You see, the directions called for a certain amount of butter to grease the pan, and it did say thoroughly grease it. I didn't know I'd have so many potato slices left after this pan when I was questioning why I had to use so much damned butter to line it. But what do I know right? Also, the little bits of cheese on each layer seemed minute enough, like just for a touch of flavor, but in fact, it was twice as much as was supposed to be used in what I considered a "large" pan. So perhaps the cream had a bit of trouble absorbing into the potatoes amongst all the extra melted butter and cheese. 

So it wasn't out of the oven looking as subtle and crispy as the picture would have suggested it did. It was still damn, damn good eating. Plus as an added bonus, I made a nice comte cheese sauce that worked well with...everything really. And yes, as I have a physical this week, I did try to drain off what I could of the butter/cream soup from the potatoes all the while my inner chubby, rotten toothed child kicked and screamed.

The Steak

This was another recipe made for grilling, particularly where the nice large quartered peppers are concerned. But I still don't have any charcoal. I should really get on that. So, trusty cast iron it was. But something remarkable happened. I didn't refer to any directions where the steak was concerned. I just had an understanding of how how the burner should be for the sear, how far to turn it down to finish, and for how long all of what of that was happening for. In the end, the steak was a perfect medium rare. I even just kind of knew when it was done settling afterward though inclosed in an aluminum foil tent. And not only that, but for someone who doesn't really like red peppers, realizing they were big and not being grilled, I cut them into strips and at the appropriate time put them in the pan with the steak to cook. And more amazingly, I liked them. I'm racking that all up to possession, a certain alignment of the stars or tides or something and it's certain not to happen but once every twenty years. Oh, and reheating the peas. I wasn't sure what to do without dragging the microwave out since I don't use it, and the oven was already bust making soup, so I just put them on the warm plate in the foil tent with the steak and that worked perfectly. 

Here it is, and dig that fancy red pepper weaving

Oh no! whatever will I do with a container full of perfectly cut 1/8 inch chip size slices of potato?!

maybe let it dictate my next meal.

Coming Soon:

Physical! The aftermath dinner

Many Titles

The Return of Zoo Day: Escape from the Oregon Zoo!

(a.k.a)

Yom Kippur (or how I learned to stop worrying and love the fast)

(a.k.a)

Dog Food and the Battle of Gonzo

So, I didn't really sleep last night. Without going into too much detail, one of my cats, the bastard Gonzo, hates me, hates windows, hates rain and did I mention hates me? Those of you who know him know he's the king of asshole cats and can extrapolate from there whatever you like that may have transpired until 5:30 in the morning where he, obviously, won and I finally got a couple hours of rest. This is only important to justify that what follows may or may not make sense. But as it's been a good minute since the last update, and my sister is yelling at me about it, I promised an update.

Yesterday was Yom Kippur, so to celebrate this high holiday, I went to the Zoo again. But this time I remembered my camera. Even if the bugger hates to zoom or focus or hold a charge long, I managed to get this snap shot of Conrad the giant:

Not his most flattering or interesting side. Also finally, without an overwhelming amount of field trips or weekend holiday crowds, I was able to catch a glimpse of the baby asian elephant, which is apparently a big deal. 

And yes, though a distant cousin, he's as cute as the little elephant that befriends Mowgli in the jungle book. I just wish I was able to keep the dawn patrol song out of my head the rest of the day. That was the best brief look I could get of him before a horde of screaming children made him go hide.

So, fasting and atoning. I had done pretty well so far not eating, but was starting to feel it particularly after wandering around miles of zoo all morning. It was time to leave when the animals started looking kind of delicious and I began focusing more on how I would prepare them than their quirky regional abnormalities. When a bat made gnawing on a giant bunch of broccoli look appetizing, I knew I was done. 

Oh, but wait, what's this? large orange barricades blocking the road up to the exit? zoo employee's rapidly flowing about too and fro with scowls? Something was amiss. The best a disgruntled looking mother near me could get out of him was "something happened" and it would be about 45 minutes before the road out was accessible again. There was an alternative though, we could turn tail and head back down from where we came, and go up through the pacific northwest exhibit to an alternative exit. The pacific northwest path is a long, windy uphill climb. Much fun for the stroller pushers and those of us atoning. But, at least I finally made my escape. 

since the sun set yesterday at 1:30 in the afternoon, I figured it was time to break the fast. And I wanted to check in with Tom, so I headed over to his restaurant to break the fast. And though it was overwhelmingly delicious as always, I couldn't help feel a bit of the Jewish guilt creeping in, so with full belly, I continued to fast and atone until dinner.

Something that has to do with food here:

My camera was still in the car from the zoo, and dead so, no photo's not that any of this warrants it anyway. Breaking the fast is always a joyous occasion. Food just taste better after not having had any all day (we're ignoring my lunch). However did you know that one out of every ten steaks from omaha steaks is made of dog food? True story. But first, Corn.

I don't have much to say about corn. Joyce has lectured me on how if it's not grilled it's worthless, and while I generally tend to agree with some of the subtle points of that argument, it was 40 degrees out, and I lack charcoal. So had to cut the ear in half and boil it. Good enough, and thank god, because the steak, well, something had to go wrong sometime.

I wanted to try a more elaborate rub, and while I had ingredients listed to pick stuff up to make one, I was a little run down and was able to convince myself I should try a pre-made rub before I venture off on my own. "Rub with Love" had an inviting title so clearly it should be tasty. I dried off my defrosted 6oz filet, crusted with the rub following the suggested use on the can. 

While it seemed that the salt content of this mix was able to draw out a good amount of water, I guess not. The center was grey and wet and tasted boiled and I couldn't help but feel I lost money on this particular steak at a greyhound track in boston some years ago. The searing on the rub itself was also uneven. It was in patches wet, dry, burnt, raw powder. It was bland, overwhelming, and told me I was both directionless and ugly. We argued about politics and it refuses to vote. Some of this which may have been my fault, but I'll own it hand in hand with bad rub or maybe the odd bad piece of meat? In the end I'd have to say, it was some good corn. It immediately came to my attention I don't have corn holders, but that's fine since I've always felt silly using them.

Regrouping from the trauma of this, and digging through the freezer for the next victim, I came across 10oz strip steaks I entirely forgot were in there. We'll see if I can do better with a marinade. 

I think I need a nap. 

PS- on a positive note I am confirmed to attend the Tillamook Macaroni & Cheese Finals on the 23rd. Before those of you who care about my health start yelling at me, look at the website. Come on, I dare you to say you would not do the same.

http://www.macaroniandcheeseandcheese.com/contest

notasteak 1.0

Greetings true believers. As previously mentioned not everything I received was a steak. There were a handful of burgers in there as well and I figured it was about time to break them out. I recently did two of them, the first not pictured here. That was a day of pure laziness and spare parts. But I can tell you this:

Guacamole, Onion, Tomato, Lettuce, Poppyseed Roll, Agave Catsup, Peppered Bacon, Swiss Cheese. I think that was it. It was just fine. Easy, simple. 

for last nights, I turned back to the recipes. Here's the thing about burger recipes, They all want you to start with ground beef/turkey/etc for which defeats the purpose of all ready pattied omaha steak burgers. While some that have been sent to me or I've looked up sound wonderful, I fear crumbling up these burgers into ground beef and reconstructing them.

However there was one sent to me by my sister, a Hawaiian style burger that only wanted you to shape the ground beef into patties, without mixing in a 5 page list of ingredients. And it sounded really good. Since it was the weekend and I wasn't done being ultimately lazy, the side was a simple enough choice to go with this burger.

Skillet French Fries

I now envy those who own mandolins. Even on that first test burger it would have been nice to have a slice of tomato or onion that wasn't a millimeter on one end and three inches wide on the other. For the fries I was told "simply cut a potato into 1/2 inch by 1/2 inch strips. Heh. I have a feeling those with the experience and steady hand to accomplish this on the most awkwardly shaped and dense vegetable for precision cutting, probably own a device already that can do it for them. As for me, I was pretty happy to come close.

The rest was simply oil in the skillet, toss them in, flip them every minute till all sides were golden, remove to paper towel and salt. And it really was that easy and we can now add french fries to the list of things I shouldn't know how to cook, but that I now do. 

But there was something else about this recipe. Something glorious. It said at the end, "if not serving right away, place in a 325 degree oven to keep warm." And a tear came to my eye. 

The agave catsup is good stuff too.

Hawaiian Burger

mmmmm. I went to sleep full of Aranciata Pellegrino, with sugar plum like visions of the burger I had eaten still jitterbugging in my head. Once I had formed the burger (and by this I mean opened it) I took the mixture of pineapple juice and teriyaki and made a little bath for it to relax in. Pineapple slices also joined in the fun. Then I went back and made the fries while those lazy bastards just sat around enjoying their marinade. Once the fries were keeping warm in the oven, it was just a matter of toasting the bun, cooking up some more peppered bacon (I have been enjoying the peppered bacon from the meat counter over the regular. If there's any confusion about this, see....well, any other post, in regards to my intimate, personal feelings about black pepper) and cooked up the burgers. 

Sure, with all that pineapple juice and teriyaki soaked into the meat it created a mushroom cloud of smoke that the vent or my open door couldn't properly filter out, but at least I found out I don't believe my smoke alarms work so, no worries. Once the burger was done the pineapples had their turn and it all came together like so:

Top Bun

Catsup

Lettuce

Bacon

Onion

Pineapple

Swiss Cheese

Burger

Catsup

Bottom Bun

And it was about that thick. Iceberg lettuce was again good in one of the few situations in which is proves itself, if for nothing more than the crunch it makes when you try to compress this all together to fit in your food hole.

Now that we're six pieces of meat in, I'm beginning to realize the scope of what ten times the meat I've eaten already is looking like, both in terms of time and...meat. The meat box seems no emptier than when we started. But that doesn't scare me. There's bound to be ups and downs, perfect rubs and grease fires, but fear not, I am committed to this relationship. 

I'm also now addicted to Aranciata Pellegrino. Could be worse. 

Ah, Bacon.

Yes, bacon. There is no consumable known to man or beast that bacon does not improve upon with one small exception, better quality bacon. Since bacon, black pepper and steak are the holy trifecta in the grand derby of taste, I snuck in one a couple nights ago as a safety. After shopping for the meal I made last night I was worried I was over reaching and that surely everything would be ruined. So I had one of the bacon wrapped filets, silently and alone prepared like the peppercorn steak I did already. So you see, there was nothing interesting to report there other than it was delicious. But last nights meal...

 6oz of steak is small. really looked like even with additional things sitting next to it, it just wasn't going to be enough. It's amazing how far the right sides can carry 6oz of bacon wrapped meat....mmmmm, bacon.....I'm as shocked as anyone that anything I tried last night worked. Maybe not in every instance according to the specifics of the recipe, but it was all beyond edible reaching well into delicious.

Guacamole Stuffed Tomato

A couple small things took me by surprise while doing this one. The first of which was, I was going to have to make guacamole and that's what all these random ingredients were for. Secondly, while fork mashing the avocado I glanced back at the instructions to see when I put all this in the blender.... never. Great. But let me back up. First was cutting a small slice off the top of the tomato. It WANTED me to scoop out the seeds and discard and then scoop out the pulp and chop it up. I realized this small detail after I scooped everything out and chopped it all up together. So, some tomato seeds, no big deal. 

after coating, sorry, "drizzling" the insides with olive oil and fresh lime juice (so I was out of olive oil and vegetable oil had to do, I hardly noticed considering what follows as the end result), set my tomatoes aside at room temperature to dive into the guacamole. It consisted of 3 avocados, sorry, "california" avocados (la-di-da big shot california produce) and the right amounts of chopped onion, fresh chopped cilantro, minced jalapeno (with the seeds this time, these people don't know what they want) and salt. Oh, and the pulp from the tomato and here's the thing about that...

the recipe is for making 12 of these and I really didn't want to eat 12 guacamole stuffed tomatoes. So what I ended up with is a lot of extra guacamole that's light on tomato. But the most important thing is, I made guacamole, and it was good. Any way, yeah, spoon it in the tomato and serve IMMEDIATELY. Most of these seem to want to be served immediately.

They were good, however, the instructions at no time included how you are supposed to eat them. They are essentially guacamole bombs. I tried at one point like an apple, and I don't recommend it. Very strategic fork and knifing seemed to be the way to go. Also of note, it's a lot of guacamole. And these were pretty small vine tomatoes. The only thing smaller I could have used would have been like plum tomatoes but the first line of directions reads, "12 small 2-2 1/2 inch tomatoes (not plum tomatoes)." Eh, what can you do. 

Parsley Rice

Yum. I should try this with brown rice since I'm always looking for a way to make that stuff not taste like wet bark. This time I used white rice because I'm afraid to intentionally stray from a recipe my first go around and, you know, brown rice sucks. I was a little frightened when I was told, "preheat the oven to 350 degrees, 325 degrees or 400 degrees." Excuse me? It's best not to throw baking options at me. I went with the 350 since that's what my oven likes to default to. 

Then the fun began. I greased up a 1 quart overproof dish which to me means, that one 1 quart item you have, a soufflé dish. They may have meant something else. Then I beat a single large egg in the bottom and needed to add 1 cup of milk. Luckily for me, the bit of fat free milk and bit of whole milk I had left added up to nearly a whole cup. I need to get milk. I added the finely chopped onion, garlic, parsley, curry powder, black pepper (yay), salt and....rice....cooked rice.... ok, had to cook rice while the rest of it waited patiently in the dish, but it got there. Then I had to cover the dish...COVER THE DISH... or use aluminum foil (phew) and bake (45 minutes at the 350). Oh, and of course, serve immediately!

It was supposed to turn green. It didn't which was disappointing. Perhaps the parsley needed to be cut up even finer, which seems obvious to me now looking at the giant parsley leaves sticking out of the rice. But still, even with it's lovely yellow coloring, it was excellent. And the bottom layer of it in the dish were even a little like corn meal and even better, until I burnt my tongue. Then it didn't matter much. I should not lick spoons I've just been stirring out of the oven rice with. Fortunately, this was after I had already eaten.

incidentally, this makes a wonderful reheated late breakfast.

The "Tuscan" Steak

Most of the Tuscan style recipe's I've looked at on steak seem to want to have oil drizzled on it at the end and lemon squeezed over it. But this one didn't. It was pretty much all about the marinade. So I have no idea how Tuscan this really is, and I was constantly worried about it until I tried it. 

The marinade consisted of taking rosemary leaves, olive oil, balsamic vinegar, crushed fresh garlic, sea salt and, that's right, ground black pepper and blending them together. Then it claims, "pour" it on top of the steak, flip over and "pour" the rest letting the meat soak it up anywhere from 2 hours to overnight. I gave it most of the day. The thing was, when I turned the pitcher of the blender over to pour, nothing came out. It was like a paste. I checked my proportions and all were correct. I guess I should have let it blend for another hour or so to thin out, but instead I just used a basting brush to scoop it out and slather all over the poor little steak. I could only think, no way this is right.

Come cooking time I tried to brush some of the excess off the meat, but through some conundrum of physics, the more I tried to remove, the thicker it got. Since I didn't remember using Bailey's and lime juice in it, I figured well, screw it, this is why I had the peppercorn one last night. I did a pan sear and roasted it as I've become accustomed now, and since the rice was still cooking away in the oven. 

In the end. It was delicious. the marinade didn't blacken up to a crisp as I had expected and the steak didn't wear it as a gloomy coat. Plus, even though it was no where in the directions, I got bold and squeezed a lemon over it, which worked out complimenting everything on the plate well. The lemon twist on it was just me being cocky.

But the true miracle of it all? All three things finished at the same time and were able to be served "immediately"

Now, what to do with excess guacamole, tomato, and onion...hmmm...

next up, I'll try one of the burgers.

Viewer Mail

So, to answer some commonly (and not so commonly) sent in inquiries...

1) Yes, it does seem there are others that read this, most just opt to call me or email me directly and I'm going to blame the fact you apparently have to sign up with this site in order to even post a comment. You are not alone. [edit: I had the settings so only members could leave comments, now anyone can as "anonymous"]

 

2) I have absolutely no idea, hopefully with recipes eventually submitted by people as well as the books I have. I guess the internet too. But 60 different ways is seeming a bit daunting.

3) No, just on the fly. Copy and Paste doesn't seem to want to work for me in here so I just type.

4) Polar Bears hair is clear to allow sunlight to pass through to the skin and the yellow tint it eventually shows is a sign of age.

5) I don't know, any should be fine, but I stress the "I don't know". (Apply this to your question, it'll probably fit)

6) Yes, I should have phrased it better as, "the only domesticated animal existing and bred with no purpose what-so-ever other than the fact that Bram likes them" not "we like them". Sorry allergic people.

7) Why yes, that'd be great to do this as a book and television series, and if you think the viewers at home don't like watching clueless people fumble their way through something foreign to them, you haven't been part of the reality television phenomenon.

8) Apparently in Belgium it really is traditional to eat a steak smothered in cheese sauce.

9) "37" was Luke's prisoner number.

Next up...

Before I have to sell off the remainder of the steaks to stay alive in this economy, I'm having at least one of the bacon wrapped filets.