Hippity, hoppity, into my belly you go!

January 13, 2010

Many things in life baffle me. Several that are on my mind right now are:
1) Why on earth the Director of Uniforms at the Pittsburgh Pirates insists on dressing the team in those heinous baseball vests. They a major fashion don't. Sure, they were big in the '70's, but now they are ugly. Maybe their seventeen consecutive losing seasons can be blamed on the fact that they hate what they are wearing. I, for one, feel better about myself when I put on a cute outfit.
2) What the hell was the person driving the SmartCar buying at Ikea this weekend? He or she was there longer than I was, and I was there for two hours. I'm sorry, but most of the SNERGS and FLOYVECS that one buys at Ikea cannot fit in a SmartCar.
3)And finally (here's where I get back to talking about food), why are so many meat-eaters skeeved at the idea of eating rabbit? Is it because you had one as a class pet? Because they are cute? Well, the ones you eat were never someone's pet, they are actually big and not-so-cute (think Bunnicula) and lambs are cute, and if you eat meat you probably eat lamb for Easter every year at your mom's house. So please consider yourself debunked of the myth that eating rabbit is weird. Because rabbit is really delicious.

Rabbit braised in wine and tomato sauce, from Gourmet magazine
Serves 4

1 rabbit, cut into 8 pieces* (you'll probably have a neck and a tailbone piece too - toss those in for flavor)
1 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon black pepper
olive oil
2 medium onions, sliced
2 garlic cloves, finely chopped
2 strips fresh orange zest

2 bay leaves
1/2 cup red wine
2 cups canned crushed tomatoes
a pinch of cinnamon
1/2 cup water

8 ounces dried egg tagliatelle or egg fettuccine
1 tablespoon butter
1/4 cup chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley
salt

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.


Season the rabbit pieces with half the salt and pepper. Heat some olive oil in a heavy dutch oven and brown the rabbit pieces. Remove the browned rabbit to a plate and add the onions, garlic, orange zest and bay to the pot. Cook until onions start to brown, about 5 minutes. Deglaze the pot with the wine, scraping up the browned bits. Add the pinch of cinnamon, tomatoes and water. Tuck the rabbit pieces in so they are as covered by the sauce as possible. Bring to a bubble, then cover and put in the oven. Cook for 30 minutes, then flip all the rabbit pieces over, again tucking them in under the sauce. Braise for another 30 minutes.

Meanwhile, boil the pasta. Toss the cooked pasta with the butter, parsley and salt to taste. Serve the rabbit and sauce over the noodles. (Note: my favorite pieces are the ribs and legs. Please remember this if I come to your house for rabbit.)

*If you want to see before/after pictures on cutting up a whole rabbit, click on the link below. NSFV (not safe for vegetarians)

Stear clear, my veggie friends

January 11, 2010

Welcome to game meat week! If you eat meat, but tend to stick to chicken/beef/pork - this week is for you! I'm going to share some dee-licious recipes about all those fun, fabulous meats that are just a little different. If you are a vegetarian, well, I have a yummy tofu recipe coming up!

Once my husband and I went to a venison farm. The woman who ran it also had a flock of exotic chickens - including one that had feathers on its legs that reminded me of my beloved cocker spaniel, Buffy. (Moment of silence to remember Buffy. Sigh. I miss her.) We talked with her for over an hour about how she runs her farm and manages her flock of fallow deer. (Are deer a flock? A tribe? A murder?) Before she would sell us any meat, she insisted that we peek through the fence to "meet" the deer. (Pun intended.) And no, this wasn't disturbing. I was buying animal meat. It used to be alive. The other members of the flock seemed to be have a good life. But it was also there because it was intended to end up in my belly.

So if you live near a venison farm, or you're lucky enough to know (or be) a hunter with extra bounty, or your local market sells it - give this a whirl.

Juniper venison medallions, from the Shelburne Farms cookbook
Serves 2

6 juniper berries, crushed in a mortar and pestle or spice grinder
3/4 tablespoon gin
1 1/2 tablespoons maple syrup
3/4 teaspoon salt
small fresh rosemary sprig
2 venison medallions, 3/4 inch thick (if yours are thinner, you won't need to cook them as long)

Whisk the crushed berries, gin, syrup, and 1/2 teaspoon salt together in a shallow dish. Add the venison, turning the meat so it has a little of the marinade on the top side. Crush the rosemary in your hand to release the oils, then lay it on the meat. Pop the dish in the fridge for an hour, flipping the meat over halfway through. Don't marinate it longer than an hour or the texture of the meat will get a little weird.

Put a cast iron skillet (or other heavy, ovenproof skillet) in the oven, and preheat your broiler for 15 minutes. (Yes, the skillet preheats too.) Pat the venison dry and reserve the marinade. Sprinkle the steaks with the remaining 1/2 teaspoon salt and place in the superhot skillet. Broil 4-5 minutes per side for medium rare meat. (I think venison is best medium rare, and don't recommend you cook it any longer.) Remove the steaks from the pan and pour the reserved marinade into the hot pan and let it sizzle for about a minute. Drizzle this over the venison.

Rub my crepe for luck

January 7, 2010

Here we've got a photo of my New Year's Day lunch. Jealous? Yeah, it was awesome. (Obviously my resolutions did not include "modesty.") My parents always have pork and sauerkraut that day - I think it must be a western PA thing, because when I've mentioned that to other people they just think that's weird. Delicious, perhaps, but weird. Apparently the idea behind it is to bring you fortune in the new year - something about eating like a pig instead of scrounging and pecking like a chicken (it is apparently totally bad luck to eat chicken). Not sure about the sauerkraut - maybe so you always stink like a hobo? That night for dinner my husband and I made rabbit - I hope that ensures that we are as cuddly and cute as bunnies in 2010. (Yes, recipe forthcoming!)

But back to the crepes. We had them for a late brunch and I really can't tell you how great they tasted. Perfectly chewy, and of course, a great vehicle for cheese. I only wish I had one of those ginormous circular crepe hot plates that Paris street vendors have. My cast iron pan worked pretty well, though.

Crepes (adapted from the King Arthur Flour cookbook)
Makes 6 crepes (serving 2 hungry or 3 dieting people)
warning - the batter has to sit for an hour!

1 cup all-purpose flour
1/4 teaspoon salt
3/4 cup milk
2 eggs
2 tablespoons butter, melted
Additional butter for greasing the pan
cheese* (I tried goat cheese, sharp cheddar, and beemster. You'll only need about 1 oz. of cheese per crepe. The beemster - which is nutty and sharp - was our favorite.)
fresh greens (I used baby arugula, but spinach would be great)
condiments of your choice (I chose tomato marmalade and mustard)

*obviously, you can fill crepes with anything you like, such as Nutella and bananas, jelly, sauteed mushrooms, etc.

Combine flour and salt. In a separate bowl, beat together the milk and eggs. Make a well in the flour, and slowly pour in half the milk/egg mixture. Blend well, then add the rest of the milk/eggs and stir until well-mixed. A few lumps are ok. Stir in the butter. Cover and let sit at room temperature for at least an hour.

Heat a cast-iron skillet over medium high heat. Using a wad of paper towel, rub a bit of butter on the skillet. Pour 1/3 cup batter into the pan, immediately spreading it around with a spatula or a nifty crepe-spreader. When the edges begin to curl slightly, and it is looking kind of dry, peek at the bottom. You don't want it too brown. Flip with a spatula. (They hold together really well, so flipping is easy.) Take a little bit of cheese (be conservative, it's not a quesadilla) and spread it on half the crepe. Smoosh some greens on top. Fold the non-filling side on top of the filling side and press down. Fold in half again, and keep warm in a 250 degree oven while you finish cooking the rest of the crepes.

Serve with the condiments of your choice.

Warm and cuddly

January 6, 2010

Sometimes as a kid my husband would just have a "fruit and nut plate" for dinner. This is exactly what it sounds like - dried fruit and nuts. Maybe, if he was feeling crazy, he'd have a yogurt too. You know, hippie food. (Have I mentioned he is from Vermont?) But hey, he loved it, and I'm sure it was easy on his parents. I probably wouldn't have touched a piece of dried fruit with a 10-foot pole as a child, and the only nuts I ate were the walnuts I would sneak out of the produce drawer in the refrigerator. But I've come around, and now I actually really like dried fruit as a snack. Once I was carrying around a baggie of prunes in my purse as a treat and I went to the Capitol Visitors Center - where all outside food is banned - and the security person held them up with disdain and was all, "And what are these?" He seemed a little judgy about a 20-something woman carrying around prunes as a snack. And I had to throw them away. I was sad about it when I got hungry later.

So now that we both like dried fruit, I made this great, warming wintery recipe. And no one judged anyone.

Chicken thighs with dried fruit, adapted from Local Flavors by Deborah Madison Serves 2

4 chicken thighs (I used boneless/skinless)
salt and pepper
olive oil
1/4 cup chicken broth
5 bay leaves
2 large shallots, roughly chopped
1/3 cup red wine
1 1/2 tablespoons red wine vinegar
2 dates, 4 dried apricots, 4 prunes (or any combo you like), chopped into 1 inch pieces
1/4 cup parsley, chopped
2 cups cooked Israeli couscous, tossed with some slivered almonds (to serve)

Soak the dried fruit in the wine.

Season the chicken thighs with salt and pepper. Heat a light coating of olive oil in a large skillet and brown the chicken thighs on both sides. Deglaze the pan with the chicken broth and add the bay leaves. Lower the heat to a simmer, cover the pan, and cook the chicken until no longer pink, about 10-12 minutes. Remove the chicken to a bowl. Heat a little more olive oil in the pan and cook the shallots for a minute or two. Add the bowl of dried fruit soaking in the wine, the vinegar, and scrape up any browned bits from the pan. Add the chicken back to the pan and cook for another 10 minutes or so to let the flavors come together.

Serve on top of the couscous and garnish with the parsley.

Beer, beer, beer of the week! It's the beer of the week!

January 3, 2010

I like beer. This is probably obvious from the pumpkin beer tasting during squash week, but I thought I'd mention it again just in case anyone out there forgot. So I'm going to try to introduce a new regular feature about some funky, interesting, or seasonal offerings from the many great microbreweries out there these days. If you have any suggestions of beers I should include in the new "Beer, beer, beer of the week! It's the beer of the week!" feature, please let me know in the comments.

Hell or High Watermelon Wheat Beer
21st Amendment Brewery

Watermelon? In a beer? How crazy is that?! I first had this out at The Black Squirrel in DC, and was so excited to see it my local liquor store I may have squealed a tiny bit. (Brief shout out to the staff at Cleveland Park Wines, who can and will order anything you want - including the Scottish beer for my wedding - and will also make the beer truck driver move when he is blocking your car in its parking space. Thanks Santos!)

Back to the beer - it's an extremely refreshing, light, crisp wheat beer with the perfect hint of watermelon. It has a slightly sweet finish, but nothing that should scare you off. It's a good sweet. (If you're weirded out about fruit in your beer, think of Magic Hat #9. That's brewed with apricots.) It's the dead of winter, but I can't wait to have this at a picnic in the summer.

Recommendation: A must try. But maybe wait until a really hot day.