Week Six: The Story

I know, I know, I know. It's the start of week seven.

BACK OFF ALREADY!

That was me, honing Chris Farley, by the way. I'm not even sure what skit or what movie but I felt very Chris Farley-ish typing it all angrily, in caps, like some modern day technological yell of frustration in the nooks and crannies of the blogosphere ethernet.

Something like that.

Stressed out fat-guy-in-a-little-coat fit of rage aside, I'll confess that last week's meal was a total farmer's market geek out. I truly felt like the parodied couple on Portlandia, the one at Gilt Club ordering chicken, going to great, great lengths to ensure it was raised local and humanely.

Mmm Chicory. Just like endive and
choke (frisee) lettuce.

That's because at least one component of each piece of the meal, save for the avocado, came from the Hillsdale Farmer's Market.

Sidebar -- I'm a bit distraught; I don't get to go to the farmer's market for another FOUR WHOLE WEEKS thanks to this weekend's Landmark Education forum in Seattle and then a much-needed vacation to the coast with Jason two weekends after that.  -- End sidebar.

Make sure to get your oil hot enough
before dropping these in.

Anyway. Dinner was more like a savory, comfort food brunch meal. I called back to my Southern roots, frying up a yellow heirloom tomato in bread crumbs seasoned with paprika, salt and pepper. That little fried baby sat as the boat (a raft if you will) for the farmer's market egg that Jason poached (Really...the suggestion that poaching a fresh egg is much easier than an older egg isn't a wives tail...it's WAY easier).

Who ever thought comfort food and
salad couldn't be one in the same?

The bacony cornbread, warm and perfectly moist, combined with the sweetness of the balsamic was a savory version of pancakes and syrup while the egg, with its broken yellow yoke, combined with the creamy avocado and salty hot tomato and crunch of spicy arugula for a salad that wasn't as healthy as could be but really, with the combined texture and tastes, it just really didn't matter.

The only thing that was missing was a glass of perspiring sweet tea.

Local, Portland tea, of course.

Culinary Concoctions Week Six: Balsamic Chicory Salad with Farmer's Market Bacon Cornbread and Poached Eggs

Woowee it's been a week which means, unfortunately -- or maybe fortunately, who knows...depends if you're the type of person who hates that I separate my recipe blog from my here's-how-it-went-down blog -- both blog posts are coming up today.

That's gonna affect my stats damn it.

Not that I geek out about the stats or anything.

Ahem. Anyway.

This week's recipe is in theme with how I've been eating lately: Entree salads (I mean, I've got to combat all the bacon fat somehow, right?). So here goes:

Balsamic Chicory Salad
Ingredients:
4 bunches chicory, peeled into individual leaves or stalks
2 cloves garlic, thinly sliced.
2 TBSP balsamic vinegar
1 TBSP olive oil
salt and pepper
3-4 cups spinach/arugula, washed

Directions:
Heat oil in large saute pan over medium heat. Salt and pepper it. When hot, add garlic. Be careful not to let it burn! If you find your garlic is burning, lift the pan off of the heater and let it cool down a bit, constantly moving the pan around so the oil and garlic don't sit in one place. Add chicory. VERY quickly sprinkle with balsamic. Chicory only needs about 1-2 minutes, TOPS in pan. Remove, drain.

Add to spinach/arugula (Dressing optional; the balsamic drizzle adds enough moisture to the leaves as well as the soon-to-follow egg).

Ayers Creek Farm = The Bomb.
That's right, I said The Bomb.

Bacony Cornbread
Ingredients:
2 TBSP bacon fat or 6 pieces bacon, chopped
1 1/2 cups medium grind cornmeal
1/2 cup all purpose flour
1 1/4 cups buttermilk or milk substitute (go for something super creamy here)
1 TBSP sugar
1/2 TSPN salt
1 egg

Directions:
Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Whisk all dry ingredients together in medium sized bowl. Don't forget to sift your flour! Heat fat and/or fry bacon in a 10 inch ovenproof skillet. Beat egg with milk in small bowl. Add milk and egg to dry ingredients. Fold together then pour into the hot skillet. Make sure to mix well with bacon grease and/or bacon. Bake in over for 25-30 minutes. Enjoy the heck out  of it after!

And to put it all together:
Slice cornbread and put it on the bottom of the plate. Top with spinach followed by chicory. Finish with poached egg, salt and pepper to taste.

February!

Okay so February isn't here until tomorrow. Nevertheless, it's arrival means I've successfully added four new dishes and six ingredients to my list of culinary goodies:

• Maitake mushrooms
• Kohlrabi
• Radishes
• Celeriac
• Swiss Chard
• Rutabaga

All to create dishes such as:

• Grilled Halibut with Spinach and Thai Chiles over Maitake Quinoa
• Bacon-butter Braised Chicken with Celeriac and Roasted Vegetables
• Candied Radishes with Vanilla Ice Cream and Bacon Caramel
• Salad of Arugula, Avocado, Grapefruit and Baked Salt and Pepper Radish Chips
• Stuffed Swiss Chard Purses 

And what have I learned so far, one month into this resolution?

1. I'm terrible at going to the Farmer's Market and focusing on buying just what I need.

2. I can indeed make a meal without using bacon or bacon grease (But why?)

3. A little bit of (soy) cream goes a long way with mushrooms.

4. Braising meat will always yield a super moist end result (I braised boneless pork chops last week. Succulent...and, believe it or not...moist!).

What's February going to bring? I have ideas...perhaps extending the new ingredients beyond the realm of fruits and vegetables?

More to follow...

Week Four: The Story

If you could put every warm feeling of winter -- wool mittens, your favorite sweatshirt right out of the dryer, the warmth of a coffee cup on your hands, the steam of tea -- and pair it against the coldest day of the season -- just miserable with such a bone-aching chill that it takes every iota of strength, courage and iron-will to get out of bed --

You have those two yin and yangs juxtaposed against each other?

Good.

Now just recall how truly, almost other-worldly that warm feeling is when you finally get out of that cold and...

Well...

Then...

You'll have some kind of idea as to how fantastic the vegetarian stuffing filled chard purses were.

Hold on. I need a moment.

Feel free to entertain yourself with this.

Okay. I'm ready.

Pre-leek-tied purse.

The stuffing turned out really great, especially with the warm savory mouth of the chard. I'll admit, in lieu of butter, I opted for a nice healthy dollop of (You guessed it) bacon grease to saute my vegetables in. The bacon grease added an unbelievably savory and subtly smoky flavor.

I'm sorry Meghann; I know you were hoping I wouldn't 'ruin it with bacon' but what can I say? The little blue bowl of warm bacon grease just spoke to me and the greedy little fat kid in me who would kill for that umami taste and texture just couldn't help herself.  Trust me, considering my growing waistline and the fact that I'm supposed to using this cooking experience to be uhm, healthy and sustainable (Which okay, bacon grease isn't healthy but I've got a solid argument that it does, indeed fall into the sustainable, oh-so-Portland tail-to-nose cooking ideology), she's definitely getting a time out in the corner (Followed by another early a.m. ten mile run).

Yeah, you can get an idea of
how small my kitchen really is.

Sidebar conversation aside, the purses were, I'll admit, kind of a pain to make. I'm actually pretty baffled that Epicurious/Gourmet suggested it as an appetizer. I mean, as much I love cooking and entertaining and wowing guests with pretty looking and amazingly tasting food, I'd have to have my arm twisted pretty hard to make these as more than just a meal (Which actually, they're quite filling and can easily stand alone as a hearty vegetarian dish -- hint, hint Piper, Ariel and all you vegetarians and vegans out there. To make it vegan, just use olive oil and swap the recipe's chicken broth for vegetable broth and perhaps add an extra pinch of salt to make up for the flat flavor of veggie broth). After all, one bunch of chard, which was about eight leaves thick, yielded six small-to-medium sized purses.

While a pain in the rear, they were still so so so worth it.

Really, had I chard in my fridge right now, considering I've still got half a loaf of stuffing...yeah, I'd definitely make them again. Right here, right now.

The great thing about that would be the fact that prep time would last no more than 20 minutes (as opposed to the 90 minutes I spent during round one) and, knowing what I know now (See tips below), I'm pretty certain they'd be even better. 

This one was special.
It needed a lot of leeks.

If you do make these (Which I so so so so SO recommend), keep these tips in mind:

1. Blanch your chard one leaf at a time. Pat dry them immediately after, otherwise, as I talked about before, the water will start to break your leaf down faster than a Portlander can put a bird on something and call it art.

2. Dry your blanched leeks asap too, for the aforementioned reason.
3. Make the stuffing ahead of time. It's not that time consuming to chop a bunch of veggies, but combined with everything else, you could save yourself a solid hour when you're hungry for some winter loving by making the stuffing ahead of time.

4. Use bacon grease. Like really. It's delicious.
5. Get creative with the stuffing. Really, my stuffing was more of a what's-in-the-fridge concoction. You can really play with the flavors, omitting the sage and Craisins for a less-Thanksgiving taste, adding paprika or curry for smoky, curried flavors, adding meat or a par-cooked grain like quinoa for extra carbs. 

Bacon Caramel: Boozy Dessert Style

Boy oh boy.

While I may have been more lax and lazy last week with cooking, I think I more than made up for it over the weekend with baking.

The weekend, for those of you who didn't know, Sunday was National Pie Day which coupled oh-so-nicely with Baker and Spice bakery's sixth anniversary (And I apologize for not actually informing everyone before hand; in retrospect, telling you after the fact seems a bit cruel considering you've got to wait 364 more days until the next National Pie Day). They held a pie baking contest which, after I casually dropped that factoid during trivia, Jason immediately averred that I should enter it.

Which I so totally did.

Apple Pie with Oat Streusel and
Bourbon Bacon Caramel Drizzle

I recreated Thanksgiving's apple pie: Apple Pie with Oat Streusel (Thanks Bon Appetit) but topped it off with lavish drizzle of bourbon bacon caramel.

The pie looked...oh, fantastic. And smelled like comfort food heaven, sweet with cinnamon sugar warmth that played harmoniously with the melody of apples which...oh baby, oh baby mingled with the smoky kick of the bourbon and bacon grease. Poor Jason. (Well I say 'poor' but don't really mean it -- let's remember that entering the pie contest WAS HIS idea after all)  I've never seen a grown man so unbelievably distraught while maintaining such iron-willed resistance than Jason, holding the still-warm, unbelievably aromatic apple pie for the entire 18 minute drive up to Hillsdale.

Without eating it.

Sure, his nose was never less than half an inch away from its crumbly, caramely top and, if I recall correctly, he verbalized no fewer than five scenarios that inadvertently put that pie into his mouth, without requiring him to take blame.

Unfortunately, my little pie didn't win. However, I do get to pick up a Thanks-for-playing $10 gift card to Sweet Wares (Which I think I'm going to drop on a pastry cutter I keep always wishing I had). And, while I didn't have crust to make a second pie, I did make a crumble-crust, using flour, sugar, brown sugar, oats, cinnamon and...of course, bacon grease in lieu of butter, for a crumbly, crispy apple pie that really, regardless of what the professionals think, is a winner in my book.

Butter. Nice, fatty cold creamy butter.

And for your viewing pleasure: I also made (For my friend Meghann who FREAKISHLY, at least in my eyes, doesn't like pork) a dark chocolate caramel, SANS bacon grease, which apparently made one the best caramel latte/mochas ever.

Yes Megs, it's officially in the mail and on its way to you.

Dark Chocolate Caramel Sauce

Culinary Concoctions Week Three: Candied Radish Chips with Vanilla Ice Cream and (You guessed it) Bacon Caramel

I knooooooooow. It's WEDNESDAY and I haven't blogged all freaking week.

It's killing me (Or doing much worse things to me according to my work pal Johnathon -- yeah, you know what I'm talking about mate).

So finally, while the boy cooks up an amazing dinner for me, I'm sitting and blogging about the recipe I'm finally getting around to making.

While they're not black radishes, I am using the lovely red and purple bunches I got from the farmer's market nearly two weeks ago to make a dessert.

Or, to hopefully make a dessert. I know you can bake radishes but can you make them candied and sweet?

Only the following story (ie; tomorrow or Friday's blog) will tell. For now, the recipe.

Candied Radish Chips (With Vanilla [soy] Ice Cream and Bacony Caramel)


Ingredients
2 bunches of red, purple or black radishes
3 TBSP cinnamon
1/2 cup sugar
Pinch of nutmeg
Pinch or two of cocoa powder

Directions
Mix dry ingredients together. Wash and pat dry radishes. Remove stalk and root ends. Using a mandolin, thinly and evenly slice radishes. Coat with sugar mixture. Bake at 375 degrees for 10 minutes on foiled or parchment-covered cookie sheet. Flip, bake for another 5 to 10 minutes, or until crispy.

Serve warm, like mini biscotti or wafer cookies, with vanilla ice cream and warmed bacon caramel.

PS If it doesn't work or I alter it, I'll of course, let you all know. Wish me luck!

Week Two: The Story

I have to preface this blog entry with the big whiny complain that I ruined my favorite pair of pants last night. So here goes:

(Imagine me, face scrunched up into a pursed-lip, eyebrow-furrowed scowl, perhaps with a quivering chin that's fighting oh-so-hard to combat the onslaught of tears that rest behind my watery, pained eyes)

"I caaaaaaaaan't beeeeeliiiiiiiiiieve I ruuuuuuuined my cords last night. They're gooooooood pants. Uuuuuuuuugh. My faaaaaaaaaavorite and I juuuuuuuuuuuuuust bought them like twoooooooo months ago."

(Imagine me, red faced, streaming tears, pouting like a spoiled 15-year-old brat who is sooooo toooootally bummed that daddy didn't buy her a 2011 whatever-car-teens-are-hot-for-these-days)

Ahem. That's out of the way.

Yes; this buttery broth now
 speckles my favorite cords.

Aside from the pant-ruining snafu -- which, I'd like to put out there, didn't actually occur until after the meal was sitting happily inside of our stomachs and we were cleaning up and I idiotically believed I could pour liquid from a 12 inch skillet into a container three inches wide without spilling it all over the counter, the floor and myself -- last night's cooking frenzy was a big hit. Which I so totally needed. Unsurprisingly, I had finished a crazy day at AngelVision, full of clients who can't make up their mind and/or think that I'm twelve years old, and was exhausted, worn down and feeling a bit down in the dumps.

After a quick four mile run in freakishly warm weather (Warm being high 40's, a far distant cry from Tuesday night's freezing temperatures and freezing rain), I rinsed off then headed over to Jason and Co's to begin the orchestration of a very wintery-ingredient meal.

Ahhhhh. Being in the kitchen rinsed off all the stress and self doubts I had just experienced two hours prior, replacing those Negative Nancy worries with culinary confidence and might.

Colorful, even for chicken.

Of course, I hadn't braised chicken before but I think it turned out pretty fantastic. While I could have crisped up the skin for another couple of minutes, the flavor of the bacon, sage and butter really shined. That said, the extra butter in between the skin and the meat isn't necessary to keep the meat moist (And if you want a truer chicken flavor, omit the bacon and sage of course) but it adds an incredibly creamy and full-body bite to the celeriac pieces, which fried up in oil with the garlic before simmering in the buttery chicken broth.

Winter in a pan. 

Admittedly, I overcooked the squash a bit while leaving the beets a bit too al dente but to Jason, who had never before had butternut squash, roasted beets, parsnips, celeriac or rutabaga (I also had never had rutabaga or celeriac), was surprisingly pleased to find out how much he liked them.

His exact quotation? "The chicken was fucking fantastic but I really dug the veggies."

Music to an amateur chef's ears (Regardless that it came from my doting boyfriend).

My new favorite veggie.

My favorite piece of the meal was actually the celeriac. Raw, it really emits an aroma of parsley and earthiness...an odd olfactory pleasure of fresh, clean dirt. Being so starchy, like a potato, the celeriac really took the flavor of the chicken-butter-garlic-bacon broth, transforming it into a melt-in-your-mouth, rich yet clean delicacy. I think I found my new favorite vegetable.

Then again, anything that takes on bacony-garlicky-chickeny-butter with so much gusto is a favorite in my book.

Just missing the crab...

I just wish my pants didn't take it on so well.

Until next week.

Oh PS: My favorite salad, though not chock full of super seasonal ingredients: Avocado (duh) and grapefruit.

Culinary Concoctions Week Two: Bacon-Butter Braised Chicken with Celeriac and Roasted Root Vegetables

Last night's recipe using Pacific Village chicken from New Seasons and local celeriac, rutabaga, parsnips and beets.

Bacon-Butter Braised Chicken with Garlic and Celeriac
Ingredients
3 lbs. chicken parts (breasts, thighs or drumsticks with skin and bones)
1 head of garlic, minced
1 medium to large celeriac (About 1 1/2 lb)
5 strips bacon, cooked crisp and chopped finely
1/2 stick of unsalted butter, room temperature
2-3 cups of chicken broth
2 TBSP chopped fresh sage
2 TBSP olive oil
Salt and Pepper

Directions
Peel skin of celeriac with a paring knife. Slice into potato-chip size portions. Set aside with minced garlic.
Combine chopped bacon, sage and butter in container. Incorporate well. Set aside.
Rinse chicken. Pat dry. Carefully separate skin from meat. You can probably do this with your fingers but you might have to start it with a paring knife. Do not completely take skin off. Rub meat under skin with bacon-sage butter. (Call me Paula Deen, but you can't overdo this). Salt and pepper outside of chicken lightly.
Heat olive oil in 12 inch skillet on med-high.
When ready (You'll know it's ready when you splash a bit of water on the oil and it sizzles), place chicken skin side down into skillet. Fry up, about 9 minutes.
Remove chicken and place on plate.
Add garlic and celeriac to skillet. Fry for 8 minutes.
Return chicken, skin side up. Add chicken broth, reduce heat to simmer and cover. Dark meat takes about 23 minutes, white meat requires about 28.

You should have a lot of excess broth the chicken is done. Save this for stock! Place in container, let cool to room temperature and skim fat off before refrigerating.

Roasted Root Vegetables
Ingredients
2 carrots
2 parsnips
2 beets
1 rutabaga
1 butternut squash
Salt and pepper
2 TBSP balsamic vinegar
2 TBSP olive oil

Directions
Preheat oven to 425.
Peel and chop all vegetables to similar sizes except butternut squash. Cut slightly larger, as it'll roast faster.
Wash all chopped vegetables.
Place in large baking pan.
Douse in oil, vinegar, salt and pepper. Mix with hands.
Make a tent with aluminum foil over the pan, making sure there are no air gaps.
Roast in oven for 45-60 minutes, depending on preferred tooth. I found that 55 minutes was perfect!

Plating
Pile middle of plate with celeriac (Use slotted spoon to plate)
Scoop roasted vegetables onto one side of celeriac.
Place chicken resting perpendicular onto both vegetables.
If desired, spoon 2 TBSP of garlicky-chicken stock over chicken and onto plate.
Dig in!

Yes....the bacon caramel latte happened

Warning: This blog post contains adult-language which, undeniably so, is the only way to really, truly describe what you're about to see and what you'll so so so SO want to taste.

While I have yet to be able to try it (Dairy and everything), these are the words I've heard thus far about the bacon-caramel latte:

"Man it's good. Like so fucking good."

"It's sweet, but not too sweet and the bacon so comes through."

"It's a good ass latte."

Okay...so that's all Jason saying that. Whatever. We've got another victim...oh, I can't believe victim is the right word...trying one later on today. Will report after that.

Back to the grind (And no...sadly, not the coffee grind)...

And here's the bacony-caramel macchiato:

Bacon Caramel

I'll admit -- and if you know me and are familiar with most of the cooking I do these days -- using bacon grease in my sweet culinary concoctions isn't unfamiliar territory.

It's far, far from.

What started with smoky molasses cookies quickly morphed into bacon cornbread, bacon pumpkin muffins, bacony no-bake cookies and, as of recently, bacon caramel.

Yes, that's caramel made with bacon grease in lieu of butter.

I know, I know; it's not what one would call healthy.

Blame Christmas. Or rather, blame Jason and Clara for shoving Christmas spirit so far down my throat that I went on a baking and holiday cooking frenzy, whipping up my regular batch of cookies plus recipes for hot cocoa, chai tea and caramel.

Now, the caramel didn't begin as bacon caramel. Considering the popular coffee-caramel duo (Not a personal favorite of mine, but I get how the flavor profile works, not to mention the fact that having caramel, thanks to the hefty amount of whipping cream it requires, would make my stomach flip flop like my dad's on a ferris wheel.), I first thought up of coffee flavored caramel, using instant coffee (Real espresso would have been so much better but a girl without an espresso machine has to compromise).

That first batch didn't work out...not so much because of the flavors, but because, when it comes to making caramel (Actually when it comes to making most things), I was too impatient with the sugar (1 1/3 cup sugar and 6 TSBPs water). When making caramel, you've got to really let the sugar (derrrr) caramelize; it takes about 8 or 9 minutes of constant boiling, while occasionally brushing the sides with a wet pastry brush to really get the sugar where you want it.


Not only will its golden color be indicative of its readiness, but when you pour in the cream (2/3 cup) and fat (1/3 cup), it'll bubble up and release lots of steam (My poor right hand is currently ailing from a hefty bout of bacony-caramel steam).

Unfortunately, with that first batch of coffee caramel, I didn't get that bubbling steam. All I got was a little bit of melting...which meant that the caramel didn't thicken up, leaving me with a syrupy coffee-flavored syrup.

Hands on my hips, I realized my mistake and began again...

Yes, that's a 2 cup pyrex of bacon grease

...and that's when I saw it, sitting so complacently and innocently on my counter. Beckoning with its halo of smoky, saturated fat deliciousness...one of three coffee cup containers of bacon grease that Jason had been saving for me.

Cue light bulb in my mind.

Thus bacon caramel was born. Unfortunately, nobody got to actually enjoy that batch, save for a mere finger lick, thanks to a gang of TSA bullies who used their jerk-headed might and big muscles and weapons and super scary threats to confiscate the jar of bacon caramel I made for Jason's parents, wrapped in a nice Christmas ribbon and all, from Jason's death grip vice (He offered to eat it to prove that his girlfriend's Christmas gift to his parents wasn't actually a homemade bomb). All 16 ounces of bacony sweetness into the trash.

Bastards.

The batch that didn't work out. 

But today friends, today was a glooooorious day. As anyone might expect after reading the above prologue, today was bacon caramel-making day. Much like the coffee caramel, I lacked patience with my sugar and ended up with more of a bacon caramel simple syrup that didn't thicken up. Rest assured, it won't go to waste; Jason's taking it to the coffee shop tomorrow with him to experiment with lattes and macchiatos...so for any Portlanders who read my blog and are curious in this concoction, maybe juuuuuuuust maybe you can con him into whipping up a bacon caramel latte.

Okay sidebar: Speaking of new latte flavors, we went to Baker and Spice today after the farmer's market and had a maple latte. They make their own maple, in barrels and everything. Oh man aliiiiiiiive it was delicious. End sidebar.

The batch that did. 

Luckily, rounds two and three of bacon caramel worked out perfectly. Thick, luscious, golden brown caramel. Two batches with a little honey and two batches with a little dark molasses; the latter which is the apex, thus far, of bacony caramel goodness.

My mind's already racking up tweaked recipes....paprika and chili pepper for a smoky spice, the oh-so-loved sea salt, maple sugar, bourbon...

The possibilities are endless. Unfortunately my bacon grease supply is not. And that only means one thing.

Bring on the bacon!