Salsa

We just got back from a wonderful week in Texas. We rode in boats, made some new friends and embraced old ones, got a little (ok, a shit ton of) sun on our pale, Northwest skin, and of course, we ate and ate and ate. I'm proud to announce that very few veggies were consumed on this trip. Cheesy enchiladas, ground beef, and Sonic drinks made up the bulk of our diet. Hilda's, in Fredericksburg, is always on our hit list when we're home. And per usual, after a quick stop at Sonic for a crunchy ice drink, we phoned in our order on our way from the airport.

 

I'm pleased to announce that Bubby and I had an opportunity to eat at Tamale King, in Kingsland, for the very first time. How the eff are we just now eating here? I'm wondering the same thing. This place has all the makings of an awesome Tex-Mex joint. Delish margaritas (yes, I would like to upgrade to premium tequila for just a buck more, thankyou), a gigantic menu that primarily rotates items from platter to platter and features an uncle so-and-so's favorite, and my hometown hero brother's picture on the wall. And though service from the awkward, possibly stoned waiter was a bit slow, we didn't really mind because he kept pouring dishes of some really tasty salsa. Yes, poured. From a surplus-sized syrup pitcher. 

Though it wasn't my favorite restaurant salsa (that distinction is still claimed by the smoky, roasted goodness at El Chile), it was fresh. That's the thing about salsa - it's so easy to spot the jarred crap, which doesn't come close to comparing to what you can make at home. So that's my inarticulate segue of telling you to make this at home. I used fresh tomatoes, but you can sub canned ones (whole, peeled). To render tomatoes skinless, score the ends like in the pic below, then drop them into a pot of boiling water for about a minute. The skins will peel right off.

This part is fun: once they've been peeled, squish them over a bowl, squeezing as much juice as possible out. Keep this juice to add to the salsa later, depending on how chunky you want it to be. Then throw the tomatoes into your food processor or blender with all the other ingredients. Taste for salt. Find your favorite syrup pitcher, and pour away.

Salsa

2 lbs. tomatoes (or one 28 oz. can whole peeled tomatoes)

1 bunch fresh cilantro, stems removed

4 cloves garlic, peeled

juice of half a lime (about a tablespoon)

1 jalapeno, seeds and stem removed

1 chipotle chile in adobo sauce*

1 tsp. cumin

1 tsp. salt

If using canned tomatoes, use only tomatoes, leave the juice behind. Whir everything together in a food processor or blender for about a minute. Add reserved tomato juice if ya like.

*this is an awesome secret ingredient that lends a little smokiness, a little 'wang' as my father-in-law would say. You get about six or seven of these in a can. I usually only use one at a time, then I stick the rest in a ziploc and freeze them.  

Rock salt roasted potatoes

The first time I had a salt-roasted something was New Year's Eve. In Vegas. I was five weeks pregnant. If you ever find yourself five weeks pregnant and your head is constantly pounding and you never, not even for a minute, not feel like puking, I have some advice for you. Don't go to Vegas. And especially don't go there on the most raucous, outrageous, revelry-filled night of the year. You will want to punch all the yard-slamming, 'wooooo-hooooooing' guidos, tricked out hos, and chain-smoking, chain-wearing ballers you encounter. And that will be 99% of the people you encounter. I don't hate. I've definitely been there.

NYE 2009. That's me on the right. Sober and extremely annoyed.

Since I wasn't about to spend a small fortune at da club, I decided I could justify spending a small fortune at dinner. So my precious sister, her good bud and I got all dressed up and took ourselves out to B&B Ristorante. We had had one of the best meals of our lives at Babbo in NYC a few months prior and were hoping for a repeat performance. And we got it (minus the part where I could see aforementioned guidos stumble by just a few yards from our table). There were a few standouts during this meal: 1) Karen rushing off to buy me regular strength Tylenol mid-appetizer, 2) not really minding that I couldn't drink champagne (me!? what!??), and 3) the beet salad that I stole a few bites of from Karen's sweet friend. I like beets. They're pretty great. But ohmygoodness these beets were insane. I asked the server about them and expected to hear the usual reasons (butter, lots of olive oil, crack), but I was blown away when she said they were salt roasted. I'd never heard of this method of prep before, and I was determined to repeat it immediately.

Fast forward a year and a half. I had forgotten about my salty beet resolution until dinner the other night when I found myself with a bag of tiny red potatoes and a big 'ol box of rock salt. This rock salt was used once to make the biggest homemade ice cream disaster. I had the highest of hopes for homemade ice cream, and I hope to revisit this at some point. Since I'm still traumatized from the sticky mess cleanup, the rock salt must find another purpose.

I haven't researched why salt works magic on veggies. And I'm guessing that any vegetable with a skin would work well with this. My guess is that the salt pulls moisture from the skin, but that the skin insulates and protects the tender flesh of the vegetable. Do you know? Have you tried this with other things? Leave me a comment, if so! These potatoes were miraculously light and fluffy, but perfectly crisp and immaculately salty on the outside. I loved this, and I can't wait to try it out on more stuff.


Rock salt roasted potatoes
Small potatoes (red, fingerling, etc.)
Olive oil
Rock salt or any other coarse salt

Rub the outside of potatoes with a little olive oil and place in a baking dish. Pour salt around the potatoes so that just a bit of the skin pokes out. Bake at 375 for 45 minutes to an hour, or until a knife inserted into the potatoes meets little resistance. Remove from the oven, and brush the salt off. I halved mine and dabbed a bit of butter on top. Enjoy!

Pork, pasilla and sour cream enchies

Crap. I totally meant to take a picture of the finished product. But they came out of the oven and Bubba was hollering about something and then I was starving and Chad was starving and we ate massive amounts of them and the next day we shoved some more into our hungry little gullets and now there's none left. Enjoy a pic of my precious child instead. Then let's focus on what's really important. These. were. to die for.

Most expats, whether they love or hate the Lone Star State, have one or two things they really really miss about it. HEB, Big Red, floating the Frio...

Anyone who has had more than four conversations with me knows that I'm obsessed with Sonic drinks with lots of crunchy ice. Four Sonics in Washington = massive cravings for these at all times. Running a really close second to syrupy sweet goodness is a platter of sour cream chicken enchiladas.
Platter, of course, includes a triangle of refried beans; buttery, tomato-y rice dotted with peas and carrots, and a heaping portion of white enchiladas with a sprinkle of cheddar over the top. Rolled tortillas peek out the side, chunks of chicken spilling out. Juicy meat is spiced with tangy green chiles and cumin. It's the perfect comfort food. And as simple as it seems, I have yet to find anything resembling it in Warshington. I've made a pretty mean version on my own for years now, the recipe taken from Lone Star Legacy. I subbed pork for this attempt. Simmering bone-in chops with dried pasilla peppers in chicken broth, onions, cilantro and garlic resulted in a much tastier filling and subsequent sauce. Really powerful extra sharp Tillamook cheddar and hefty smears of sour cream don't hurt, either. You can get big 'ol bags of dried pasilla peppers in the Mexican food section of the grocery store.

Pork, pasilla and sour cream enchiladas
1 large yellow onion, finely chopped
4 cloves of garlic, minced
1 bunch cilantro, chopped
3 (approximate) cups chicken broth
3 bone-in pork chops
2 dried pasilla peppers, stems and seeds removed and cut into big chunks
2 cups sour cream, divided
1 tsp. cumin
1 tsp. chili powder
salt and pepper to taste
2 cups grated cheddar - the sharper the better
10 corn tortillas
oil for frying

In large saucepan with lid, saute onions on high in a small glug of olive oil. Cook until onions are soft, stirring frequently. Add garlic and cook a minute more. Toss in the peppers and cilantro and add about a cup of broth. Nestle the pork chops into this, and add more broth until the chops are almost submerged. Reduce heat to low and simmer for an hour or so. Turn the pork once to ensure that the meat is cooked through. Remove the pork chops and let rest on a plate. Remove peppers and discard. Turn the heat on the liquid to high and boil for about 20 minutes, or until liquid is reduced to half. Stir in one cup of sour cream, cumin and chili powder. Taste for salt and pepper.
While liquid is boiling, carefully cut the meat from the bones and coarsely chop. Put pork in a small bowl with a cup of the sauce. Stir to combine and set aside.
Heat oil in a wide pan on high. Fry tortillas (two or three at a time) for 30 seconds on each side. All you're doing here is softening the tortillas so they don't break during assembly. Don't cook until crispy. Let drain on paper towels.
Spread half a cup of sour cream on the bottom of a 9x13 baking dish. Spoon a tablespoon of the pork filling onto the center of the tortilla and sprinkle with a tablespoon of cheese. Roll the sides in and place seam-side down in the baking dish. You should be able to cram 2 rows of four, plus two enchiladas on the end. Pour remaining sauce over the top, then spread the remaining half-cup of sour cream over all of this, ensuring that no tortillas are exposed. Sprinkle remaining cheddar evenly over the top.

Bake at 350 for 20 or 30 minutes, or until cheese has browned a bit on top and the enchiladas are bubbling. Serve with fresh lime wedges, fresh cilantro and a Sonic drink!

Chipotle-braised short ribs

I've gotten a bit frustrated lately with the amount of time it seems to take to make good food. Apart from stir fries and PB&Js (which, let's be real, are amazing and an essential part to a healthy diet), I take a really long time in the kitchen.Most days, I love being in the kitchen. I love the smells, the sounds, the bustling, warm activity of it all. But sometimes, other things get in the way. When you have a seven-month old who can dump out the recycling bin and suck on the end of a shampoo bottle within a matter of the six seconds that you turn your back (true story), you don't exactly have the luxury of making your own broth, whisking constantly, or searing-to-perfection every single day.

That brings us to short ribs. I've had a few packages that have been staring at me from the freezer. I've made them once. They were gorgeous. They were insanely good. They took the most gigantic amount of time to make. But when you step back and take a good hard look at what really went on in the recipe, you were really just simmering some meat in some stuff. Couldn't I just cut out all the other mess? All short rib recipes call for searing the ribs first, draining the fat, then cooking them more, then draining more fat. Also, it called for lots of prep time in the seasoning, the chopping of veggies, etc. My goal with this meal was to minimize the fuss, stick her in the oven, then get rid of all the fat at the end. Am I compromising some stuff? Probably. But the end result was still awesome, my braising liquid will definitely be repeated in the future, and my baby is not ingesting soap. Success.

In the spirit of things, I decided not to go to the store for any of the ingredients. All of these items are pantry staples. Don't have soy sauce? Add a bit of salt. Short on fresh ginger? Skip it altogether and maybe toss in a few extra garlic cloves. Have beer instead of wine? Or prefer chicken broth? Go for it. This recipe is stress-free. One little caveat, and this is a biggie. Make this the day before you plan to eat it. Remember all that fat I was referring to earlier? It's so much easier to dispose of it quickly after it has congealed thanks to an overnight stay in the fridge. Yes, it's gross to chip congealed fat off your food, but it's much cleaner and efficient to do it this way vs. gently spooning off liquid grease blobs for what feels like forever.

If short ribs aren't your thing, use this liquid with a good roast. 

Chipotle-braised short ribs
1 large onion, sliced
6-8 garlic cloves, sliced
2 tbsp. tomato paste
2 chipotle chiles in adobo sauce, roughly chopped
half jalapeno, sliced
1 cup cheap red wine
1/4 cup soy sauce
1 tbsp worcestershire sauce
1 tbsp fresh ginger, sliced
1 tsp. season salt
1 tsp. cumin
1tsp. chili powder
approx. 2 lbs. short ribs
water

Dump all of this into a big dutch oven. Fill the pot with water until most of the meat is submerged in liquid. Bring to a boil on the stovetop, then stick into a 350 degree oven. Your goal here is really tender meat. Poke at it with a fork every now and then to gauge this. Mine cooked for three hours before achieving falling-apartness. Remove from oven, and let cool a bit before refrigerating overnight. When ready to eat, pick the congealed white fat from the top and discard. Reheat on stovetop, and serve with your favorite starchy goodness (grits, mashed potatoes, etc.), spooning the liquid over the top as a sauce. Brave eaters will be fine with picking meat off bones, but for pickier people, take a few minutes to remove the rib bones and tendons.

A fish fry

One of the best parts about living in the Pacific Northwest and being from Texas is showing off awesome seafood to the people that visit you. We've lived here for four years, and we are extremely fortunate to have had lots of wonderful people come stay with us from back home. And almost every time we get an overnight guest, we'll cook up something from here or here or, even better, something we've dug or caught on our own.

In-laws have been with us for the past week, and shonuf, we ate the crap out of some seafood. We snagged some gorgeous true cod at the market. As I've mentioned before, frying things is tricky business for me. The perfect combination of golden, crispy crust and perfectly cooked meat/veggie is a holy grail. Batter can turn to goop. Protein can either be underdone or rendered tough and chewy. 

But when you nail it, oh MAN does it feel good. This is how this fish turned out. The fish was flaky and moist, the crust was flavorful and crunchy but the flavor of the fish still shone through. After seventy gajillion attempts, I think I finally happened upon a recipe that I will turn to again and again. 

And while you're at it, whip up some coleslaw. Disclaimer 1: this would be a total pain to make without a food processor. I don't think I'd hand grate all this business. Of course, you could buy those nifty pre-grated bags. Disclaimer 2: I'm not a big cole slaw fan. Line up typical seafood/barbecue sides, and I'd pick about 30 things before I landed on cole slaw. But this really surprised me. I made it because I knew that aforementioned in-laws are big slaw fans. So I made it my way - cutting out some of the mayo and sweetening it with applesauce.

Fried cod

2 large filets of cod (about 1.5 lbs)

salt and pepper

1 12 oz. can of beer (I snagged one of FIL's Miller Lites)

2 1/2 cups flour

a few shakes of seasoning salt

a few squirts of hot sauce (I used sriracha)

oil for frying

In a large wok or dutch oven, heat a few inches of oil on medium high.

Pat fish dry. Cut filets on the diagonal into two inch pieces and sprinkle with salt and pepper. Pour beer into bowl and whisk in 1 1/2 cups flour. Add seasoning and hot sauce and whisk until just combined. Pour remaining cup of flour onto large plate. Pick up a piece of fish at the tip with two fingers. Dip it into batter, letting the excess batter drop off. Dunk it into the flour and roll it around to coat. Gently slide it into the oil, being careful that the coating stays into place. Fry a few pieces at a time, carefully turning it with a slotted spoon until golden.

Cranberry cole slaw
1/2 head of green cabbage, grated
1/2 head of red cabbage, grated
4 carrots, grated
1 apple, chopped
2 tbsp. freshly minced parsley
2 tbsp. lemon juice
1/2 cup dried cranberries, roughly chopped
1/2 cup mayo (feel free to add more if you want a little creamier)
1/4 cup applesauce

Mix together in a large bowl and chill.


 

Tortillas

This one takes a little bit of elbow grease and time. But really, no skill or savvy. And they're so so impressive. Extremely flavorful, incredibly textured and wonderfully fragrant, there's nothing like homemade tortillas.

Ok, so the real reason I made these was because I bought this. (Time out. How hilarious is it that a person reviewed lard on Amazon? And even more hilarious that they discuss the hilarity of reviewing lard on Amazon? Awesome.) Time in. You see a box of lard, you buy a box of lard, right? Then, when you run across a recipe that calls only for lard, flour, salt and water, you dive right in.

Like I said, this requires no skill, just time and a little focus. We served these with brisket last week and one pal said it was "the best thing I have ever put in my mouth." I'll take it.
ps- I doubled the recipe and made my tortillas a little smaller. They were cute.

Flour tortillas
2 cups flour
1 tsp salt
1/4 cup lard (or shortening, or butter)
1/2 cup warm water

Combine the salt and flour in large mixing bowl. Cut the lard in, and add the warm water until you have a soft and pliable dough. I used a pastry cutter (or fork, if you're pastry cutter-less) with the lard, then my hands. Move the dough to a lightly floured surface and knead for a few minutes. Shape into a ball and cut into quarters. Working with one quarter at a time, cut each quarter into three equal pieces. Roll into balls using your hands.

Using a tortilla press, rolling pin, or bottom of a pie plate, roll (or press) these to 1/8 inch thickness. They won't be perfectly shaped, but that makes them even more homey and impressive. Until you're ready to cook, I laid each disk on a baking sheet, sprinkled with a tiny bit of flour, and lapped one on top of the other. Heat a cast-iron skillet or other large frying pan over medium high heat. Cook each disk for about 45 seconds on each side. They'll puff up and get those lovely brown spots. Serve immediately.

You'll never buy tortillas again.

pps- thanks to SAM for the shoutout!

The basics

This post is for my littlest bro, a senior in college. He's very cool, rocks out in a band, has a gorgeous girlfriend. He says things like dope and tight (or did, back when they were cool) and wears beads and awesome vintage clothes and reads poetry. But about once a month he calls me up and makes me feel really cool by asking me cooking questions.

 It goes a little something like this, "Sister, what's going on?" "Not much Mel, just making bla bla bla for dinner" "Oh my GOD that sounds so good."

Here's the funny part, I'm usually making something simple, something so not impressive, but because it involved a little more effort than peeling back a wrapper and turning on a microwave, he's really wowed. I always tell him I'll email him a recipe, but I usually forget and my coolness factor plummets. So here you go Mel. Start here. Make these two things and you'll impress the heck out of that lovely girl of yours. I promise.

I don't really understand why this dressing works so well. But the ingredients are always on hand, and the longer the garlic sits on the oil, the more flavorful this gets. I like to put it all in a mason jar and shake it (cue Artemis' Coyote Ugly audition in It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia. 'I'm just a small-town girl...)

Salad dressing
2 garlic cloves, finely minced
2/3 cup oil
1/3 cup balsamic vinegar
1 tsp. sugar
salt and pepper to taste

Stir ingredients together. Be sure to mix again before serving, as oil and vinegar don't mix. (duh)


There's no excuse for buying tomato sauce in a jar. The store-bought stuff tastes like butt compared to what you can make on your own. This is a really basic recipe that can be pepped up with chili flakes, lemon zest, half and half, etc. But on its own, it shines.

Tomato sauce
a few tablespoons of olive oil
1 large onion, finely diced
3-4 cloves garlic, minced
1 15 oz. can diced tomatoes
1/2 cup water
1/2 cup red wine (any kind will do - hopefully you're drinking some with dinner anyway)
1 small can tomato paste
2 tsp. sugar
salt and fresh pepper to taste

Coat the bottom of a large pot with olive oil. Saute the onions on high until very soft. Let them sit for a few minutes before turning - you want them to get a good char on the bottom (but not burnt!). Add the garlic and cook for a minute more. Once you smell the garlic, add the tomatoes, water and wine. Stir in the paste and sugar. Let cook for a minute longer and add about a tablespoon of salt to taste.

Toss with pasta, some roasted veggies and parmesan. Smear it on pizza dough. Bake with chicken and cheese for something impressive. Yum yum.