Showing posts with label brine. Show all posts
Showing posts with label brine. Show all posts

Friday, February 6, 2009

Pork Chops And Applesauce

In exchange for some changed light bulbs (high ceilings/short human), I cooked dinner for a couple of friends last night.  I wanted something that would be hearty and that would make them grateful for having trekked out to the boroughs from the island.  I also wanted to make something that I could do a large slice of in advance.  

I brined a pork loin, my first foray into porcine preservation.  I chose a loin, not to be confused with the leaner tenderloin so often in attendance at parties.  My hefty hog weighed in around 24 ounces (one and a half pounds) with a half-inch layer of fat at the top.  To make the brine, I combined equal parts table salt and sugar over a low heat to dissolve, along with some standard aromatics (fresh rosemary and thyme, a quartered lemon, a few allspice berries, a few whole cloves, ten or so black peppercorns, a handful of whole mustard seeds, a half cup unsweetened applesauce).  When the brine had reached room temperature, I submerged the pork in the pot, weighing it down with a plate.  I left it in the refrigerator, turning it every six to eight hours, for two days.

Pork turns gray when it is brining.  This is not something to be concerned about; basically, it means that the salt has permeated the meat.  When I was ready to cook the pork, I removed it from the brine, patted it dry (no, I did not rinse it off first) and seared it in a frying pan.  I started fat side down to render some of the fat into cooking oil.  Having browned all sides, I put the loin in a roasting rack and large roasting pan, surrounded by fresh thyme, rosemary, and sage.  I glazed the pork with a mixture of molasses, whole grain mustard, and dijon mustard, every 10 to 15 minutes of cooking.  I went for a high heat, though there's tons of debate on this subject.  Four-hundred degrees for what turned out to be about forty minutes (I programed my digital meat thermometer to 150 degrees).  

With the rendered fat still in the frying pan, I tossed in two chopped shallots and cooked them until they were soft.  Next, I added one cup of whiskey and deglazed the now-browned pan.  I let the whiskey reduce for about seven or eight minutes and then added two and a half cups of chicken stock, one quarter cup of agave nectar, salt, and pepper.  I let this reduce for about ten minutes before adding a tablespoon of butter at the end.  

Sides included sweet and sour braised cabbage, fennel and Granny Smith apples, a slow-cooked dish that involved little more than a simmer of balsamic vinegar, agave nectar, whole grain mustard, red cabbage, fennel, julienned apples, garlic, onion, chicken stock, fresh sage, and caraway seeds.  I made mashed potatoes with skim milk and butter, topping them with nutmeg, a personal favorite.  They were admittedly watery.  I would use two percent or higher in the future.  To accompany the pork, I made an apple, onion, and celery butter that tasted delicious but never did quite come together in pats (for some reason, the materials separated; I'm still not sure why).  

The pork was very salty, but that was fine.  The caramelized glaze tempered any salt leftover from the brine.  It was also fairly moist, though not at all pink.  I'm wondering if I should have taken it out of the oven at 145 degrees and let it carry over to 150.  I'm not sure about that.  The meat changes consistency because of the brine, so it isn't that luscious pink and tender meat you think of when you think butcher counter.  But what you get in flavor and moisture is the trade off.  All in all, things turned out pretty good, including the whiskey sauce that brightened  up otherwise boring potatoes. 

For dessert, my friend brought a gluten-free batter for cookie baking.  Oatmeal peanut butter and chocolate chip cookies did not taste at all gluten-free.  She also skipped the refined white sugar.  And, unlike my whole-wheat monstrosities, they did not suck.

Best of all, I now have light again in my bedroom and living room.  You gotta have friends. 

Tuesday, November 25, 2008

Thanksgiving, Part I

I have moved on to the better part of my day, where the first phase of my newest project, roughly entitled "Preparing Dinner for 20-Something People, None of Whom Like Anything Raw or Spicy and One of Whom Is a Vegetarian" has officially ended. Today, I had the unrivaled opportunity to 1.) cook in a nice kitchen that has a dishwasher without anyone looking over my shoulder, since all shoulder-lookers were at work, 2.) Grocery shop at big and shiny grocery stores with more than one aisle, and 3.) Do both in my pajamas. I would like to point out that although Massachusetts is officially termed the Bay State, I couldn't find one effing bay scallop. Not one. Looks like my bay scallop ceviche may become a sea scallop ceviche, due to circumstances beyond my control.

But I did cook the following today, for those wondering how far my culinary skills extend.

*Balsamic Glazed Onions, Courtesy of Food and Wine*
The recipe calls for cippolinis but I used multi-colored pearls instead. Blanch the onions for 3 minutes in boiling water to facilitate peeling. Warning: do not try to glaze anything if you are the type of person who burns down the kitchen making a simple caramel, because step one of glazing usually involves the reduction of a simple syrup. This recipe took over an hour, but it was pretty easy once I got passed the caramel stage. For the record, I am not the type of person who sets fire to the kitchen when making a caramel.

*Ginger and Cranberry Simple Syrup for Cocktails, Courtesy of Myself*
One to one ratio on the sugar and water here, plus a handful of cranberries (mostly for color) and a cup or so of crudely chopped ginger. Don't get too occupied with the ginger; the syrup will need to be strained regardless. I'm planning on doing a simple syrup and Prosecco deal garnished with fresh cranberries.

*Turkey Stock, Courtesy of My Mother Telling Me Over and Over Again How to Make Stock*
Neck, giblets, heart sauteed until brown. Add aromatics (today, this included carrots, onions, and 2 bay leaves) and sweat down a bit. Add 2 cups chicken stock and 3 cups water. Boil and then simmer for roughly an hour. I chop the liver and add it towards the end, along with salt and white pepper. Adding the liver too soon will make it bitter. Strain the stock, keep the delicious organ meat, and skim the fat after the soup's been cooled in the fridge.

*Turkey Brine, Courtesy of the Internet*
I've finally convinced my mother to allow a turkey brine instead of stuffing the poor thing. She's rooted in the belief that the stuffing won't taste good out of the bird but I promise to use enough turkey stock and rendered fat to make that impossible. Plus, honestly, my stuffing is awesome. Awesome. Anyway, you can't brine a turkey and stuff it unless you totally love the idea of spending Thanksgiving with a mild-to-severe case of salmonella. For the brine, I went one-to-one brown sugar and salt along with many gallons of water (depends on your bird size). Aromatics in this one included oranges, lemons, onions (all quartered), bay leaves, and green peppercorns. Usually, I'd throw in some whole cloves and cinnamon sticks for good measure but we didn't have any.

*Gingerbread Cake, Courtesy of Betty Crocker*
Ok, this doesn't sound too hard but let me say that the box was thrown out after I had mixed the batter and before I had cooked the thing, so it's a miracle I didn't burn it or case some other minor kitchen disaster. Also, I'm using the cake as part of a pumpkin trifle but I decided to wait on final assembly because I am completely against using Cool Whip in my trifle and I don't think home-whipped cream will keep its aeration for more than a day.

*Doctored Vanilla Pudding, Courtesy of Me*
Vanilla Pudding Mix. Whole Milk. A host of spices that looked tasty, like cardamom, cinnamon, cloves, and allspice. Also for the trifle.

*Mushroom Pesto, Courtesy of the Internet*
God, I love the Internet. Rehydrated porcinis and button mushrooms pureed with toasted walnuts (I did this myself), a few handfuls of flat leaf parsley, fresh garlic, extra virgin olive oil, salt, pepper, and fresh-grated parm. Pulse chop for texture. This is going on oil-brushed and toasted baguettes.

So, day over, it's just me and my Dogfish Head Punkin Ale. Sorry, Dogfish; we'll be drinking Ommegang Witte, Ommegang Abbey Ale, Smuttynose IPA and, ahem, Molson on the big day.