urbanfoodie

*20-something, filipina american urbanite
(Minneapolis via NYC, SF, & the Chicagoland area)
*creator, consumer, and all-around enthusiast of food
Jan 5
Hoppin’ with John* into 2011 At around noon on New Year’s Day, I came across the tradition of eating black-eyed peas (which are legumes, not peas, and of course the name of a pop music group of such literary hits as “My Humps” and the Tagalog track “Bebot”). Good luck in the new year comes by way of Hoppin’ John, a dish that is popular in the southern United States. It appears that the rice-and-beans meal was eaten by enslaved West Africans on Carolina rice plantations, resembling some of their native dishes. Traditionally, a coin was placed in the pot of beans, and whoever found it would have luck all year. Why the name of hoppin’ John? No one seems to know for sure. As is true for many peasant meals, cheap ingredients and meat scraps were resourcefully transformed into meals worthy of celebrations.  Field peas or black eyed peas and rice provided long-lasting sustenance while pork bits such as smoked ham hocks, jowl, or bacon imparted satisfying flavor. Traditionally, hoppin’ john is served with collard greens. The bitter, tough leaves of the greens were cooked down, low and slow (often with pork scraps), resulting in a side of soft leaves and juices (called “pot likker”) to be sopped up by the rice or cornbread.  Hoppin’ John felt like the perfect New Year’s Day meal for me, not just because I need the luck after a less-than-stellar 2010, but also because I hope to be more mindful of my resources by spending less, cooking more, and living more simply. It was also a good reason for me to use the cast-iron casserole/dutch oven that I got over the holidays! I created my own version of the dish, using fresh pork chorizo sausage from my local co-op (at less than $3 for two sausages, a cheap way to incorporate strong, smoky flavor), canned black-eyed peas, and adding the collard greens directly to the pot. Other recipes I have seen include a range of meats and vegetables (e.g., celery, carrots, green pepper). I didn’t have any flavored broth on hand, so I cheated with some instant chicken boullion and hot water. Like most folk cooking, the ingredients and the directions are imprecise but the yield and the satisfaction are substantial. Although hoppin’ John is a meal traditionally eaten on New Year’s Day, this is an easy one-pot meal that would warm any cold winter day. Hoppin’ John with Chorizo Sausage and Collard Greens 4-6 servings 2 fresh ground chorizo sausages (or some other meat that will lend deep flavor to the stew, such as bacon, smoked ham hock, pork jowl) 1 medium to large onion, chopped 2-3 cloves garlic, chopped 1 bunch collard greens, stems removed and chopped into strips 1 can black-eyed peas 1 cup long-grain rice 2-3 cups chicken broth Several sprigs of fresh thyme or 1/2 teaspoon dry thyme 1 Tablespoon olive oil Salt, to taste 1. In a large pot, dutch oven, or casserole, sautee onions, garlic, and thyme in olive oil over medium heat.  2. Remove the casing from the sausage and add to the onions and garlic. Break meat apart into smaller chunks as it cooks. 3. Add chopped collard greens to the pot and mix. Cook greens down about 10-15 minutes. 4. Add black-eyed peas, rice, and broth. How much broth you will use will depend on the texture you want for the rice, with less broth for more firm rice. When I made this, I used 4 cups and it ended up being a too mushy and the leftovers were even mushier as more water was absorbed by the rice. You may want to start with 2 cups and check after 10-15 minutes whether the mixture is getting too dry (you don’t want it to stick to the bottom). Cook at a low simmer for 20-30 minutes. Adjust seasoning with salt. Serve with hot sauce, a dash of vinegar, or a squirt of lemon juice. Or if you’re feeling adventurous like me, kim-chi. p.s. This could easily be a gluten-free dish. However, note that some commercial sausages contain bread or wheat protein as filler and artisan sausage makers often use bread to clean out their meat grinders which may result in small flecks of bread in the sausage. *Technically, I hopped with Essbee.

Hoppin’ with John* into 2011

At around noon on New Year’s Day, I came across the tradition of eating black-eyed peas (which are legumes, not peas, and of course the name of a pop music group of such literary hits as “My Humps” and the Tagalog track “Bebot”). Good luck in the new year comes by way of Hoppin’ John, a dish that is popular in the southern United States. It appears that the rice-and-beans meal was eaten by enslaved West Africans on Carolina rice plantations, resembling some of their native dishes. Traditionally, a coin was placed in the pot of beans, and whoever found it would have luck all year. Why the name of hoppin’ John? No one seems to know for sure.

As is true for many peasant meals, cheap ingredients and meat scraps were resourcefully transformed into meals worthy of celebrations.  Field peas or black eyed peas and rice provided long-lasting sustenance while pork bits such as smoked ham hocks, jowl, or bacon imparted satisfying flavor. Traditionally, hoppin’ john is served with collard greens. The bitter, tough leaves of the greens were cooked down, low and slow (often with pork scraps), resulting in a side of soft leaves and juices (called “pot likker”) to be sopped up by the rice or cornbread. 

Hoppin’ John felt like the perfect New Year’s Day meal for me, not just because I need the luck after a less-than-stellar 2010, but also because I hope to be more mindful of my resources by spending less, cooking more, and living more simply. It was also a good reason for me to use the cast-iron casserole/dutch oven that I got over the holidays! I created my own version of the dish, using fresh pork chorizo sausage from my local co-op (at less than $3 for two sausages, a cheap way to incorporate strong, smoky flavor), canned black-eyed peas, and adding the collard greens directly to the pot. Other recipes I have seen include a range of meats and vegetables (e.g., celery, carrots, green pepper). I didn’t have any flavored broth on hand, so I cheated with some instant chicken boullion and hot water. Like most folk cooking, the ingredients and the directions are imprecise but the yield and the satisfaction are substantial. Although hoppin’ John is a meal traditionally eaten on New Year’s Day, this is an easy one-pot meal that would warm any cold winter day.

Hoppin’ John with Chorizo Sausage and Collard Greens

4-6 servings

  • 2 fresh ground chorizo sausages (or some other meat that will lend deep flavor to the stew, such as bacon, smoked ham hock, pork jowl)
  • 1 medium to large onion, chopped
  • 2-3 cloves garlic, chopped
  • 1 bunch collard greens, stems removed and chopped into strips
  • 1 can black-eyed peas
  • 1 cup long-grain rice
  • 2-3 cups chicken broth
  • Several sprigs of fresh thyme or 1/2 teaspoon dry thyme
  • 1 Tablespoon olive oil
  • Salt, to taste

1. In a large pot, dutch oven, or casserole, sautee onions, garlic, and thyme in olive oil over medium heat. 

2. Remove the casing from the sausage and add to the onions and garlic. Break meat apart into smaller chunks as it cooks.

3. Add chopped collard greens to the pot and mix. Cook greens down about 10-15 minutes.

4. Add black-eyed peas, rice, and broth. How much broth you will use will depend on the texture you want for the rice, with less broth for more firm rice. When I made this, I used 4 cups and it ended up being a too mushy and the leftovers were even mushier as more water was absorbed by the rice. You may want to start with 2 cups and check after 10-15 minutes whether the mixture is getting too dry (you don’t want it to stick to the bottom). Cook at a low simmer for 20-30 minutes. Adjust seasoning with salt.

Serve with hot sauce, a dash of vinegar, or a squirt of lemon juice. Or if you’re feeling adventurous like me, kim-chi.

p.s. This could easily be a gluten-free dish. However, note that some commercial sausages contain bread or wheat protein as filler and artisan sausage makers often use bread to clean out their meat grinders which may result in small flecks of bread in the sausage.

*Technically, I hopped with Essbee.

beans | cooking | legumes | one-pot meals | recipes | gluten-free | Comments (View)
Nov 4

Moussaka Polenta

moussaka-polenta

Perhaps you read my last post and are thinking that you may be gluten-intolerant. The first reaction is usually, “But, but…I love [insert glutenous food]!” Well, it’s like life. You can’t have it all, and the more you focus on your limitations and what you can’t have, the more miserable you are likely to be. (Still working on practicing what I preach*cough*).

There are a lot of foods out there that are naturally gluten free, and the market continues to meet the increasing demand for gluten-free menus and products. (Thanks to Patrick for his comment pointing out the joys of gluten-free eating at Brasa). Fruits, vegetables, legumes, and tubers are GF. (Hallelujah, potatoes are safe!) When I cook at home, it’s quite easy to be GF, with the main concern for meal planning involving starches. The following grains are all naturally gluten-free and serve as filling starch substitutes:

  • Amaranth
  • Buckwheat (really, the name is misleading)
  • Corn
  • Millet
  • Quinoa
  • Rice (phew!)
  • Sorghum
  • Teff (note: injera is often made with a blend of teff and wheat flour)
  • Wild Rice
  • Oats, if they’re labeled gluten-free. Many oats are cross-contaminated with wheat due to crop rotation and processing.

This is a recipe I made recently one Sunday night in preparation of the rest of the week (plus a few for the freezer that I pulled out when I was too tired to cook). In reality, it was a way for me to salvage a pan of tasteless polenta pizza I experimented with a few days before and use up some eggplants and peppers from the market. The inspiration is a cross between the Turkish imam bayildi (braised eggplant stuffed with tomatoes, garlic, onion) and moussaka (I posted about a veggie version of a while back). Both dishes often have ground meat, but I found it filling from the polenta and the eggplant (plus, good meat is expensive, yo).

Moussaka Polenta

  • Polenta (you can use store bought or make the polenta yourself from cornmeal)
  • 2-3 large eggplants, sliced in 1/2 in. rounds
  • 1 28-oz. can of crushed tomatoes
  • Olive oil for sauteeing
  • 1 large onion, chopped
  • 2-4 cloves garlic, minced
  • 1 c. carrots, chopped
  • 1 c. green pepper, chopped
  • 1 c. celery, chopped
  • 1 tsp. oregano
  • Salt, pepper
  • Optional: 1/2-1 c. cream cheese, soy cream cheese, or ricotta
  • 1 c. grated Parmesan, or another cheese that melts well and is a little salty

1. Preheat oven to 425F. Salt the eggplant slices, and let sit for at least 30 minutes to draw out water and accompanying bitterness. It looks like this. Use paper towel or clean cloth towels to pat the eggplant dry.

2. Cook the sauce. In olive oil, saute onions, garlic, then the celery, carrots, and green pepper with oregano, salt, and pepper. Add crushed tomatoes. Simmer until vegetables are tender and the sauce slightly reduced. Taste, adjust seasoning to taste.

3. Assemble. Layer 1/2 in slices of polenta at the bottom of a lightly greased 13X9X2 or larger baking dish (you might need two dishes, like I did). Pour a thin layer of tomato sauce. If you want to add some creaminess, you can dab on some cream cheese or ricotta at this point (usually, moussaka has a bechamel sauce). I used soy cream cheese that I had left over from a previous experiment. Then layer on the eggplant slices. More tomato sauce over the entire thing. Sprinkle cheese.

4. Bake for about 45 minutes-1 hour, making sure that the sauce is heated through, the eggplant tender, and the cheese is melted. I covered mine with foil. You may want to place a baking sheet under the dish you use, in case the sauce boils over. Let cool before serving. This is also good with extra rice.

moussaka-polenta


cooking | recipes | gluten-free | vegetarian | eggplant | Comments (View)
Jun 3
Carrot-and-Chickpea Salad Hello, June! Picnic potluck season has officially begun, and let’s face it - you probably don’t want to be spending a lot of time in the hot kitchen preparing your contribution. I always turn to salads because they’re usually easy, fast, and can make use of ingredients that are cheap or in season. Here’s a recipe for a carrot and chickpea salad that I brought to a potluck a while back. Smoky paprika and cumin get a punch with cayenne, and the whole thing is leveled out with fresh cilantro. This will be even more awesome when carrots come back into season in a couple of months. Carrot-and-Chickpea Salad Recipe from Food & Wine magazine, May 2010 2 Tbs. fresh lemon juice 1 garlic clove, minced 2 Tbs. vegetable oil 1/2 c. slivered almonds 2 packed cups cilantro leaves and stems 1 tsp. ground cumin 1 tsp. sweet smoked paprika 1/4 tsp. cayenne powder 1/2 c. extra-virgin olive oil Kosher salt and freshly ground pepper Two 15-oz cans chickpeas, drained and rinsed (I used 1 c. dried chickpeas, soaked overnight then boiled) 1 lb. carrots, peeled and coarsely shredded 1. In a food processor, combine lemon juice with minced garlic and let stand for 15 minutes. In a large skillet, heat the vegetable oil. Add the almonds and toast over moderate heat, stirring until golden, about 5 minutes. Drain the toasted almonds on paper towels and let cool. 2. Transfer half of the almonds to the food processor. Add the cilantro, cumin, smoked paprika, and cayenne pepper and pulse until chopped. Add the olive oil and process to a chunky paste. Season with salt and pepper; transfer to a large bowl. Add the chickpeas and carrots and toss. Garnish with the remaining almonds and serve.  This can be made ahead and refrigerated overnight. Garnish with toasted almonds before serving.

Carrot-and-Chickpea Salad

Hello, June! Picnic potluck season has officially begun, and let’s face it - you probably don’t want to be spending a lot of time in the hot kitchen preparing your contribution. I always turn to salads because they’re usually easy, fast, and can make use of ingredients that are cheap or in season. Here’s a recipe for a carrot and chickpea salad that I brought to a potluck a while back. Smoky paprika and cumin get a punch with cayenne, and the whole thing is leveled out with fresh cilantro. This will be even more awesome when carrots come back into season in a couple of months.

Carrot-and-Chickpea Salad

Recipe from Food & Wine magazine, May 2010

  • 2 Tbs. fresh lemon juice
  • 1 garlic clove, minced
  • 2 Tbs. vegetable oil
  • 1/2 c. slivered almonds
  • 2 packed cups cilantro leaves and stems
  • 1 tsp. ground cumin
  • 1 tsp. sweet smoked paprika
  • 1/4 tsp. cayenne powder
  • 1/2 c. extra-virgin olive oil
  • Kosher salt and freshly ground pepper
  • Two 15-oz cans chickpeas, drained and rinsed (I used 1 c. dried chickpeas, soaked overnight then boiled)
  • 1 lb. carrots, peeled and coarsely shredded

1. In a food processor, combine lemon juice with minced garlic and let stand for 15 minutes. In a large skillet, heat the vegetable oil. Add the almonds and toast over moderate heat, stirring until golden, about 5 minutes. Drain the toasted almonds on paper towels and let cool.

2. Transfer half of the almonds to the food processor. Add the cilantro, cumin, smoked paprika, and cayenne pepper and pulse until chopped. Add the olive oil and process to a chunky paste. Season with salt and pepper; transfer to a large bowl. Add the chickpeas and carrots and toss. Garnish with the remaining almonds and serve. 

This can be made ahead and refrigerated overnight. Garnish with toasted almonds before serving.

cooking | recipes | salads | vegetarian | chickpeas | picnics | Comments (View)
Mar 29
The Science of Why Brussels Sprouts Get a Bad Rap When I was a high school sophomore learning French, I remember Mme. Simon explaining the term “mon petit chou.” It was hard for a 16-year-old American girl to see the endearing quality of Pierre telling Marie that she is “my little cabbage.” All I could think of were brussels sprouts, even though I had never really seen or experienced them before. Brussels sprouts were like some kind of mythological or prehistoric figure, a unicorn or wooly mammoth of the vegetable world. I could only conjure up what I thought they were supposed to look and taste like based on second hand experience via television shows and young adult fiction. Little heads of cabbage, bland, bitter, gross. It turns out that the bad rap has a scientific basis. Brussels sprouts belong to the Brassica oleracea genus of the Cruciferae family. Along with relatives broccoli, cauliflower, and kale, the Brassicas are blessed with a high dosage of glucosinolates - a class of organic compounds that produce the much maligned bitter taste. McGee (2004) notes in On Food and Cooking that the sprouts’ tightly bound leaf structure results in a concentration of glucosinolates in the center of the sprout head. Therefore, the best way to leach out the culprit is to halve and blanch the suckers. Furthermore, a study by Goodrich, Anderson, and Stoewsand (2007) found that water blanching was more effective than steam blanching in reducing the glucosinolate content in both broccoli and brussels sprouts. Even more interesting: the reduction was significantly greater in the broccoli, posited to be due to the aforementioned differences in physical structure. McGee also points out that two of the glucosinolates in brussels sprouts act in opposite directions - one moving rapidly from sweet to bitter and another moving slowly from bitter to sweet. This may be why the classic preparation of slow-roasted, halved brussels sprouts results in the perfect equilibrium of sweetness. (Isn’t science awesome?) Anyway, so I didn’t know all of this fun science before I made this pasta dish you see pictured above - which means that it was on the bitter side, with an extra side of bitterness via the radicchio. (I think that’s what I was going for…I can’t remember, it’s been so long). You could certainly try blanching the sprouts before sautéing. Now that I have some real-world experience avec les petits chous, I find that they are indeed charming in their own way. I charge you, reader, to give brussels sprouts a fair shot - armed with science and a desire to find the good in every vegetable! Brussels Sprouts and Radicchio Pasta Salad Shaved brussels sprouts Finely chopped radicchio Slivered, unsalted roasted almonds Dried cranberries Parm-Reg to taste Salt and pepper to taste Olive oil and butter for sautéing  Whole wheat pasta EDIT: I forgot to mention that I also included some awesome Italian sausage from Clancy’s that I decased.

The Science of Why Brussels Sprouts Get a Bad Rap

When I was a high school sophomore learning French, I remember Mme. Simon explaining the term “mon petit chou.” It was hard for a 16-year-old American girl to see the endearing quality of Pierre telling Marie that she is “my little cabbage.” All I could think of were brussels sprouts, even though I had never really seen or experienced them before. Brussels sprouts were like some kind of mythological or prehistoric figure, a unicorn or wooly mammoth of the vegetable world. I could only conjure up what I thought they were supposed to look and taste like based on second hand experience via television shows and young adult fiction. Little heads of cabbage, bland, bitter, gross.

It turns out that the bad rap has a scientific basis. Brussels sprouts belong to the Brassica oleracea genus of the Cruciferae family. Along with relatives broccoli, cauliflower, and kale, the Brassicas are blessed with a high dosage of glucosinolates - a class of organic compounds that produce the much maligned bitter taste. McGee (2004) notes in On Food and Cooking that the sprouts’ tightly bound leaf structure results in a concentration of glucosinolates in the center of the sprout head. Therefore, the best way to leach out the culprit is to halve and blanch the suckers. Furthermore, a study by Goodrich, Anderson, and Stoewsand (2007) found that water blanching was more effective than steam blanching in reducing the glucosinolate content in both broccoli and brussels sprouts. Even more interesting: the reduction was significantly greater in the broccoli, posited to be due to the aforementioned differences in physical structure. McGee also points out that two of the glucosinolates in brussels sprouts act in opposite directions - one moving rapidly from sweet to bitter and another moving slowly from bitter to sweet. This may be why the classic preparation of slow-roasted, halved brussels sprouts results in the perfect equilibrium of sweetness. (Isn’t science awesome?)

Anyway, so I didn’t know all of this fun science before I made this pasta dish you see pictured above - which means that it was on the bitter side, with an extra side of bitterness via the radicchio. (I think that’s what I was going for…I can’t remember, it’s been so long). You could certainly try blanching the sprouts before sautéing.

Now that I have some real-world experience avec les petits chous, I find that they are indeed charming in their own way. I charge you, reader, to give brussels sprouts a fair shot - armed with science and a desire to find the good in every vegetable!

Brussels Sprouts and Radicchio Pasta Salad

  • Shaved brussels sprouts
  • Finely chopped radicchio
  • Slivered, unsalted roasted almonds
  • Dried cranberries
  • Parm-Reg to taste
  • Salt and pepper to taste
  • Olive oil and butter for sautéing 
  • Whole wheat pasta

EDIT: I forgot to mention that I also included some awesome Italian sausage from Clancy’s that I decased.

brussels sprouts | cooking | pasta | recipes | science | Comments (View)
Mar 3
Holy Hummus It’s been documented elsewhere on the Internet that everyone loves hummus, especially poor graduate students and anyone who want to step up their potluck game above a bag of chips and a jar of organic salsa. Yesterday, City Pages even ran a little head-to-head competition between two Minneapolis hummus giants - Holy Land and Emily’s Lebanese Deli. Coincidentally, I’ve gone through no less than 2 packages of Holy Land hummus in the last week (with 1 left to go in my fridge cause the 2-for-1 package was on sale at Kowalski’s). I’m getting a bit of hummus fatigue, but I think that’s also because I am not too jazzed about the plain Holy Land Tahini Hummus. Like City Pages notes, it’s bland and has a thin, watery consistency. Meh. I like my hummus like I like my men - with a bit more personality and bite. The fact is that I always feel slightly ashamed when I buy hummus from the store because it is so darn easy and cheap to make. Plus, it’s really hard to screw this up (unless you go overboard on the garlic - remember you can always add, but you can’t take away). Eat w/ pita bread, veggies, or my recent obsession - Stacy’s Simply Naked Pita Chips. Hummus All measurements are approximate. Adjust to taste and texture preference. 1 can chick peas/garbanzo beans (or use 1 c. dried/soaked/boiled chick peas to avoid BPAs)2 Tbsp. tahini sesame paste (I prefer it roasted, another frugal tip: I buy small amounts in bulk at my co-op)1-2 cloves of fresh garlicjuice of 1 lemon1/2 c. olive oilsalt optional: cumin, jalapenos, spinach, roasted red peppers, etc. Use food processor or blender to process all ingredients into desired texture. If it’s too thick, stream in more oil or thin with water. Adjust salt as you see fit. Note: if you want to be super cost-efficient and use dried chick peas, be sure to allow time to let them soak overnight before boiling them (Confession: I have the same problem as this lady).

Holy Hummus

It’s been documented elsewhere on the Internet that everyone loves hummus, especially poor graduate students and anyone who want to step up their potluck game above a bag of chips and a jar of organic salsa. Yesterday, City Pages even ran a little head-to-head competition between two Minneapolis hummus giants - Holy Land and Emily’s Lebanese Deli. Coincidentally, I’ve gone through no less than 2 packages of Holy Land hummus in the last week (with 1 left to go in my fridge cause the 2-for-1 package was on sale at Kowalski’s). I’m getting a bit of hummus fatigue, but I think that’s also because I am not too jazzed about the plain Holy Land Tahini Hummus. Like City Pages notes, it’s bland and has a thin, watery consistency. Meh. I like my hummus like I like my men - with a bit more personality and bite.

The fact is that I always feel slightly ashamed when I buy hummus from the store because it is so darn easy and cheap to make. Plus, it’s really hard to screw this up (unless you go overboard on the garlic - remember you can always add, but you can’t take away). Eat w/ pita bread, veggies, or my recent obsession - Stacy’s Simply Naked Pita Chips.

Hummus

All measurements are approximate. Adjust to taste and texture preference.

1 can chick peas/garbanzo beans (or use 1 c. dried/soaked/boiled chick peas to avoid BPAs)
2 Tbsp. tahini sesame paste (I prefer it roasted, another frugal tip: I buy small amounts in bulk at my co-op)
1-2 cloves of fresh garlic
juice of 1 lemon
1/2 c. olive oil
salt
optional: cumin, jalapenos, spinach, roasted red peppers, etc.

Use food processor or blender to process all ingredients into desired texture. If it’s too thick, stream in more oil or thin with water. Adjust salt as you see fit.

Note: if you want to be super cost-efficient and use dried chick peas, be sure to allow time to let them soak overnight before boiling them (Confession: I have the same problem as this lady).

anthropomorphism | cooking | grad school | hummus | legumes | recipe | chickpeas | Comments (View)
Some people like to paint pictures, or do gardening, or build a boat in the basement. Other people get a tremendous pleasure out of the kitchen, because cooking is just as creative and imaginative an activity as drawing, or wood carving, or music. — Julia Child (via picquotes)

Some people like to paint pictures, or do gardening, or build a boat in the basement. Other people get a tremendous pleasure out of the kitchen, because cooking is just as creative and imaginative an activity as drawing, or wood carving, or music. — Julia Child (via picquotes)

cooking | julia child | quotes | creativity | submission | Comments (View)
Feb 3

Filipino Meat-and-Tomato-Based-Stew-Thing

Africhado-11

Filipino home cooks are well aware of the great variation amongst recipes and their loose cultural transmission down the matriarchal family line. Every region has their spin, and every family has their version. You are very unlikely to find a definitive recipe for most dishes. One of the genres of Filipino home cooking that I am currently fascinated with is the [meat] stew in a tomato-based sauce. I only knew of caldereta and menudo growing up, but apparently there are a number of other varieties out there such as apfritada/afritada, mechado, pochero, and others. The various permutations of ingredients makes for a fun culinary mathematical puzzle. In this category of foods, you’ll find the following equation, with the variables denoted by the [brackets]:

[Stew] = [Tomato based sauce with base of onions, garlic, soy sauce, bay leaves, peppercorn, sometimes chili flakes and vinegar] + [Vegetables] + [Cheap Meat] + [a little somethin’ somethin’ that sets the dish apart from others]

After some browsing around the internet at various recipes, I realized…wow, this would make a fun table! Here’s my attempt to summarize the variations by dish (please feel free to email/comment if you have any suggestions or edits to this table):

Filipino meat stew chart

Earlier in the summer, I won a $25 gift certificate to the Minneapolis Farmer’s Market. Cause meat don’t come cheap (especially local, organically raised stuff), I decided to splurge on some grass-fed beef short ribs, berkshire pork shoulder, and other stuff from Blue Gentian Farm. The short ribs finally saw their day of glory recently when Regi and I planned a Filipino-cooking-date.

grass fed beef shortribs

Though we used this recipe as inspiration (particularly with the homemade chorizo from the St. Paul Cheese Shop!), it was really a pastiche of the various meat-and-tomato-based stews referenced above.

homemade chorizo from st. paul cheese shop

Normally, this kind of stew is slow cooked over low heat. But we were really hungry and didn’t have all day. Thanks to Regi’s miraculous pressure cooker, the meat was tender in no time (25 min or so). Served on top of brown rice and with Ben’s Dogfish Ale, it made for a super hearty meal and perfect for the cold Minnesota weather.

Here are the ingredients that we ended up using and a rough recipe for this mechritada/aprichado/calderado/whatever:

Africhado-7

3 lbs. beef short ribs
Chorizo
Onion
Garlic
Red and green bell pepper, large dice
Carrots, large chunks
Red potatoes
Tomato sauce/diced tomatoes
Tomato paste (to thicken)
Fish sauce
Soy sauce
Whole peppercorn
Salt
Red pepper flakes
Bay leaves

1. Brown the meat.

2. Saute the onions and garlic.

3. Combine meat, onions/garlic, chorizo, and sauces into the pressure cooker. Cook until tender.

4. Add in the rest of the veggies later on in the cooking so that they do not get too mushy.

5. If you have time, let the sauce thicken over stove top or just wait til the next day.


Filipino | cooking | recipes | beef | stews | charts | Comments (View)
Jan 24

Project Macaron: Take 1 (Food & Wine recipe)

Several weeks ago, I wrote about my projections of macaron madness. As I wait for macarons to take over the Minneapolis-St. Paul metro, I have decided to undertake Project Macaron. It is a pricy endeavor (a 16-oz. package of Bob’s Red Mill almond meal/flour is $14.99 at the Wedge Co-op and $12.99 at Lund’s, yielding about 2 batches of 20-24 macarons), and friends are going to have to play the difficult role of taste testing and consuming. But I think we’re all up to the task.

First of all, you may have read that macarons are easy to make. LIES!

Read More


macarons | cooking | baking | recipes | French | Comments (View)
Jan 5
Developing My Inner Home Cook - Mujadarrah (Lentils and Rice with Fried Onions) Around this time last year, I made the resolution to cook more, eat more whole foods, and cut down on meat consumption. Overall, I think it was a success (though I still have a weakness for SPAM, Flaming Hot Cheetos, and Diet Coke…shhh), particularly thanks to one of my best resources, Deborah Madison’s Vegetarian Cooking for Everyone, which I gifted to myself last Christmas. Lentils - superfood legume extraordinare - were my first task. I wanted to do something other than the standard lentil soup (one of the things I can cook in my sleep). With the slow-cooked carmelized onions, this simple dish packs a lot of flavor, is filling, and cheap. Perfect for your budget-conscious new year! Mujadarrah (Lentils and Rice with Fried Onions), from Deborah Madison’s Vegetarian Cooking for Everyone 6 Tbsp. olive oil1 very large onion, sliced into rounds 1/4 in. thick1-3/4 c. green or brown lentils, sorted and rinsedSalt and fresh milled pepper3/4 c. white or brown long-grain rice Heat the oil in a large skillet over medium heat. Add the onion and cook, stirring frequently, until it’s a rich, dark brown, about 12 minutes. Meanwhile, put the lentils in a saucepan with 1 quart water and 1 teaspoon salt. Bring to a boil, then simmer for 15 minutes. Add the rice, plenty of pepper, and, if needed, additional water to cover. Cover and cook over low heat until the rice is done, about 15 minutes. Stir in half the onions, then cover and let stand off the heat for 5 minutes. Spoon the lentil-rice mixture onto plates or a platter and cover with the remaining onions.

Developing My Inner Home Cook - Mujadarrah (Lentils and Rice with Fried Onions)

Around this time last year, I made the resolution to cook more, eat more whole foods, and cut down on meat consumption. Overall, I think it was a success (though I still have a weakness for SPAM, Flaming Hot Cheetos, and Diet Coke…shhh), particularly thanks to one of my best resources, Deborah Madison’s Vegetarian Cooking for Everyone, which I gifted to myself last Christmas.

Lentils - superfood legume extraordinare - were my first task. I wanted to do something other than the standard lentil soup (one of the things I can cook in my sleep). With the slow-cooked carmelized onions, this simple dish packs a lot of flavor, is filling, and cheap. Perfect for your budget-conscious new year!

Mujadarrah (Lentils and Rice with Fried Onions), from Deborah Madison’s Vegetarian Cooking for Everyone

6 Tbsp. olive oil
1 very large onion, sliced into rounds 1/4 in. thick
1-3/4 c. green or brown lentils, sorted and rinsed
Salt and fresh milled pepper
3/4 c. white or brown long-grain rice

Heat the oil in a large skillet over medium heat. Add the onion and cook, stirring frequently, until it’s a rich, dark brown, about 12 minutes. Meanwhile, put the lentils in a saucepan with 1 quart water and 1 teaspoon salt. Bring to a boil, then simmer for 15 minutes. Add the rice, plenty of pepper, and, if needed, additional water to cover. Cover and cook over low heat until the rice is done, about 15 minutes. Stir in half the onions, then cover and let stand off the heat for 5 minutes. Spoon the lentil-rice mixture onto plates or a platter and cover with the remaining onions.

Deborah Madison | cooking | lentils | onions | recipes | rice | vegetarian | 2009 | Comments (View)
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