Shirred Eggs

I love days off, when we sleep in a little and take time to cook and enjoy breakfast together.  Shirred eggs is great for a late breakfast.  It's quick and effortless, with little clean-up.  And, man, is it good!  It's eggs baked in salty prosciutto or ham topped with rich cream and cheese.  I think the dish is traditionally made with swiss cheese, but we most often have parmesan in the frig, so that's what we use.  

Tonight, I made it for dinner, inspired by some cute little ramekins that hubby bought me from the market. This is a recipe that we picked up from hubby's stint at the Art Institute, and it has been a staple ever since.


If you going to serve this with something, make sure it is acidic, because this dish is very rich.  Tonight I had it with some tomatoes tossed with olive oil and herbs and a piece of toast.

 Shirred Eggs

eggs 

prosciutto

butter

heavy cream

parmesan cheese

salt and pepper

Preheat oven to 325.  Butter one ramekin for each person you plan on serving.  The ramekins need to be big enough to hold two eggs.  Line the ramekins with prosciutto.  

Tonight I used ham, because that's what I had, but prosciutto is best.  

 

Crack two eggs into each ramekin.  Salt and pepper the top and put them in the oven until the eggs just set - about eight minutes.  Remove them from the oven and top with about a tablespoon of heavy cream and some shredded cheese.  Return to oven until cheese melts. Easy peasy.

Fig Preserves

I have really been looking forward to growing a full garden and canning the produce, having never done either.  The full garden will have to wait until next year, but the plans are already in progress.  Luckily I have awesome neighbors who have showered us with tomatoes, kale, squash and zucchini all summer long, so it's kinda like we already have a garden (without the work).  My first ever attempt at canning was just last week after I came home from my grandmother's house with pounds and pounds of figs from her tree.  After eating two pounds all by myself, I decided I should do something with the rest.  I read some recipes and came up with one that is a combination of a few.  Here is the result.

Fig Preserves with Honey and Lemon

4 lbs fresh figs

5 C. sugar

2 C. water

2 lemons

1 T. honey 

Remove the stems from the figs and soak them in cold water for 20 minutes.  While figs are soaking combine the water, sugar and the juice of the 2 lemons in a 6 quart pot.  Bring to a boil and let boil until the liquid is clear and has reduced by about 1/5.  Add the figs, the zest of one of the lemons (optional) and the honey.  Let this go until the figs become transparent looking and you get the right consistency.  Remember that it will be thicker once it cools.  This took about an hour and a half for me.  Finally, turn off the heat and mash the figs with a potato masher.  The potato masher was Jason's idea, and a brilliant one!  This allows you to have chunky preserves, which is perfect for optimal biscuit spreadage.

 

we have found the potato masher to be an indispensable kitchen tool

Now you're ready to can!

clean efficiency

Having a clean, organized set up is the key to successful canning.  Fortunately, Jason has been doing this since he was a kid so I had some professional assistance.  The pot on the left is the preserves, the pot on the right is a big pot of boiling water for sanitizing and sealing the cans (a 4 quart is pictured, but I ended up using a 10 quart so I could do all the cans at once).  First drop the empty jars into the boiling water for a couple minutes to sterilize, then sit them on the rack to dry.  Fill each jar nearly to the top with preserves and tightly screw on new lids (you cannot reuse lids from old jars).  

boiling the jars to seal

Using tongs, put the jars now filled and lidded into the boiling water.  The FDA recommends boiling for 10 minutes.  Remove the jars with the tongs and place them on the rack to cool.  Once they have cooled almost completely the lids will create a vacuum seal.  You know you have a good seal if the button in the middle of the lid is down and doesn't move when you press on it.

tada!

Hoppin' John!

When the weather gets warm and I start to see fresh peas at the market or when my grandmother starts to send me home with grocery bags full of the things to shell, I start to think about Hoppin' John.  It's the next best thing to grilling in the summertime because you basically put it in the pot and let it cook.  No oven use, no fuss, no time spent slaving over a hot stove.  And, oh man, it makes your house smell good!  You should smell my house right now.

For us, it is usually a main course just like the cornbread and butter beans we have for dinner so often, but it is most commonly served as a side.  Tonight we're having it with smoked chicken quarters from a whole smoked chicken that our neighbor just brought us.  Can't beat that!

I derived this recipe from that of my favorite southern cook, Frank Stitt.  I am still in love with his cookbook, Southern Table.  I kind of crack up when he recommends picking through the peas to remove the misshapen ones and using spring water, but hey, who am I to question his genius?  I am just not that uptight.  

Hoppin' John

1carrot

1 celery stalk

1 red onion

1 bay leaf

1 dried chile (such as arbol)

1 smoked ham hock or smoked pork neck bone

about 3 cups fresh or frozen peas (field, black-eyed, pink-eyed, crowder, etc)

1 cup jasmine or basmati rice

cherry tomatoes

fresh basil

2 scallion

olive oil

1 Sweetwater Road Trip (for the chef)

Rinse the peas.  Quarter the onion and halve the carrot and celery.  Place the peas in at least a 4-quart pot.  Add the ham hock or neck bone, onion, chile, bay leaf, carrot, celery and a good pinch of salt.  Cover everything with more than an inch of water.

Bring to a boil and reduce to a simmer.  Don't forget to skim the scum that floats to the top.  If you are using a ham hock, there will be a lot.  If you skip this step, this will be in your food. --->

Let simmer on very low heat until the peas are cooked to your liking.  Remove flavor components (onion and stuff) and strain peas, reserving the liquid and leaving them in just enough liquid to keep them moist.  Season the peas with salt and pepper.  Use 2 cups of cooking liquid to cook the rice.  

Here is where me and Stitt part ways.  This dish is usually served with the peas and juice spooned over the rice and garnished with tomatoes or chutney, but I like to mix it all together, kind of like a succotash.  Mix the peas with the rice and some quartered cherry tomatoes, sliced scallions and torn basil leaves.  Drizzle with olive oil.

When served like a succotash, this dish is good hot or cold.  Don't let the ham hock fool you, the flavors are bright and the dish is not heavy at all.  The variations on this dish are endless, depending on what you have on hand.  Today I have a left-over ear of corn that I cooked on the grill this weekend, so I'm going to add the kernels to the mix. I also threw a dried chipotle chile as well as an anaheim into the broth just because I had it.  This would make a good vegetarian dish, leaving off the pork and relying just on the aromatics to flavor the peas.

ate too much hoppin john

Morning

The pin strikes the chime to sound an E.

Shall I roll over and receive him?

The hot water flows over my head.

Dressed, I reach into the tin.

The smell of roasted coffee beans escapes.

Milk, water. Grind, brew, froth.

Sit & Sip.

Prayerfully, the day begins.

 

backcountry gourmet

Jason on the south rim of Yosemite Valley

"What do you eat when you're out there?"  That's probably the number one question I am asked (besides questions of toileting) by non-backpackers when my husband and I hit the trail.  Food for backpacking requires forethought, and one must consider factors such as weight in addition to the usual considerations of taste and nutrition.  But honestly, my favorite thing about backpacking food is not the food.  It is the venue.  You always have the best seat in the house.  No reservations required.  Everything tastes better on the trail.

Jason cooking dinner near Vogelsang Peak, YNP

Jason cooking dinner on the south rim, YNP

Over 10 years of backpacking in the Appalachian mountains, with some westward excursions here and there, have taught me how to pack, what to pack, where to shed weight and what food stuffs are worth extra weight.  

When backpacking, we most often go with meals made for backpacking.  Unfortunately, most backpacking meals are straight up nasty.  I mean, who wants reconstitutable scrambled eggs?  And who knows what's in them?  We have tried all of them.  Mountain House, Natural High, you name it.  The absolute best meals out there are Mary Jane's Farm meals.  They are organic, only have a handful of ingredients and some of the meals are really cheesy, which I consider a huge plus.  The Chilimac and the Santa fe pasta both have sharp white cheddar, making them my two favorite meals.  Also important, they are some of the lightest meals you can buy.  You will have plenty to eat (sometimes Jason isn't able to finish his), but the packed weight is only a few ounces.  

The most affordable way to buy is to go to the website and buy in bulk, then use a food-saver to individually package them.  Don't forget to write the amount of water needed to prepare and the cook time on the packages.  If you buy in bulk, keep in mind that you should not tell people that you have 12 pounds of Mary Jane's coming in the mail (which I did).  Also keep in mind that food-saver bundles of dehydrated food can also look like dehydrated bundles of other stuff when viewed via ex-ray by TSA agents.

coffee setup

Well that covers dinner.  Breakfast is my favorite meal on the trail.  I like to make granola or buy instant oatmeal.  The best instant oatmeal flavors I have found are the Quaker Real Medleys.  Man, the cherry pistachio is so yummy.  In the summertime, I always feel like I am having to conserve water and I just can't drink enough, so this time of year, I forget about weight and bring some juicy, delicious applesauce in those individual serving bowls to have with breakfast.  We also carry a titanium MSR french press for brewing coffee.  It doubles as my dinner bowl at night.  Oatmeal, applesauce, black coffee, a handful of dark chocolate covered almonds and the sunrise - no better way to start the day!

Don't forget about your four-legged friends!

What about lunch, you ask?  Honestly, when we hike, we don't really worry about lunch.  We carry lots of jerky, trail mix and Mojo bars and snack along the way.  This way you don't have to stop and worry about stuff that will require dish washing in the middle of the day.  Sometimes I do carry those little tuna set-ups that come with the pack of crackers and mayo, but it just depends on how much weight I want to add.  I always carry fruit leathers.  When I hike uphill, non-stop for hours on end, I can feel my blood sugar get low.  When that happens, I just eat a fruit leather.  Problem solved.  When hiking in the summer, we also always carry packets of Gatorade powder.  I can remember one time being so dehydrated after drinking all of my water with the water source we had seen on the map being dry and having to hike about seven miles in the heat on the south face of a ridge to reach the next water source.  I just wanted to lay down and die.  It was that bad.  When we got to the next water source, that Gatorade revived me like nothing else could have.  I really dislike the stuff and I never buy it at the convenience store, but I also never go backpacking in the summertime without it. 

Backpacking is definitely more about the escape than the food, but I still want to eat good stuff while I'm out there.  If you happen to be car-camping, which is entirely different, go all out.  If I'm car camping, there better be a cooler of beer and a grill going!

Pho

Sure, my family has some great cooks, but I was raised by baby-boomer parents in a home where we had such delicacies as hot dog curly-cues (fondly remembered here) and meatloaf.  And let's not forget that weekly meal our mother liked to call fend-for-yourself.  Don't get me wrong, I'm not disparaging my mom's cooking.  She cooked one mean pot roast.  I'm just saying that, growing up, I didn't have many opportunities to sample the cuisine of other cultures.  So, as I've grown out of my childhood fear of unknown foods, I have been joyously surprised to find some of my favorite dishes outside of the scope of American standard fare.

Pho is definitely one of those dishes.  My first bowl of pho was from Pho Bac on Buford Highway.  Maybe not the best pho kitchen around, but I still fell in love.  I felt it was the perfect dish.  It is warming on a cold day, light and fulfilling on a hot day.  The flavor of the broth is rich and complex and balanced by the bright flavors of fresh herbs and mung beans and sliced chiles served in a heap on the side.  I had no idea what gave the broth it's flavor or how I might even begin to replicate the dish.  Recipes I found online just didn't even look like they would add up to what I had tasted.  I now know this is because most pho is a beef soup flavored with spices such as star anise, nothing like what I had had at Pho Bac.  So, I was really excited when I saw Roger Mooking cook it up on Cooking Channel one day.  He didn't even call it pho on the show, but when I saw the show, I new that what he was cooking would add up to what I was looking for.  I've used his recipe ever since, with some minor changes, and it always comes out perfectly.  It takes some time to make, but man is it ever worth it!  You can use a whole chicken or, if you're only serving a few, you can just use one full breast section (2 breasts with sternum) and a chicken back and neck (the bones will flavor the stock and the breasts are for eatin'!)

Pho

1 2-3 lb chicken (or see above)

2 carrots, halved lengthwise

1 onion, quartered

1 stalk of lemongrass, bruised

3/4 lb shitake mushrooms

1 bunch thai basil

1 T. fresh ginger, smashed

2 limes

1 T. black peppercorns

2 bay leaves

2 red thai chiles (or any small chile)

1/4 C. fish sauce

1 T. sugar

mung bean sprouts

1/2 lb rice noodles 

Throw in a large stock pot (at least 6 quart) the shitake stems, onion, carrots, lemongrass, peppercorns, bay leaves, ginger, zest of one lime, 4 basil stems, and 1 chile (sliced open lengthwise).  Now place your chicken on top of all this goodness and add water until everything is covered.

 

Bring to a boil and reduce to a very low simmer.  Simmer until the chicken comes up to temperature, skimming the impurities as they rise to the top.  This step, also known as depouillage, is one of the most important steps in any stock, broth or sauce, so don't skip it!  Remember to stick a thermometer in your bird occasionally to make sure you're not over-cooking it.  

Once the chicken is done, remove it from the broth, allowing the broth to continue to simmer.  Once the chicken cools, pull the meat from the bone and put the bones back into the pot.  Simmer for another hour or so.  The longer it cooks, the more flavor.  Go all day, if you like.

Cook the rice noodles in boiling, salted water until just tender.  Drain and set aside.

.

Strain the broth through a sieve lined with cheesecloth and place it back into the rinsed pot.  Turn on low heat.  Add salt to taste, fish sauce, sugar and the juice of your zested lime.

Now take the amount of chicken that you will be using in the soup and slice the shitake tops.  Place the chicken and the shitakes in the broth to warm, just until the shitakes are tender.

To serve, place some noodles in your bowls then proportion out the chicken and shitakes equally to each bowl.  Now ladle the broth over it.  Serve with a plate of basil leaves, lime wedges, sliced chiles and mung bean sprouts.

Enjoy! 

ode to the tomato

tomato photos by Liz Nance from The Grove Community Garden

 Yes, I realize that it is February and that there is not a vine-ripened tomato in sight, but that is exactly why I am writing this post.  Tomatoes are one of my favorite things about summertime, and one of  the only reasons that I would long for the return of the dog days in Georgia.  In the summer around here, everyone and their brother has some tomatoes growing in the yard, and you never have to look far for a juicy cherokee purple or a big red, even if you don't have your own garden.  The taste of a freshly picked, still warm from the sun, sliced tomato with a little pinch of salt reminds me of being at my great grandmother's house in Madison, watching the hummingbirds from the window at the kitchen table.  That salty acidity that you get in a home grown tomato is simply not to be found in store bought tomatoes.  I even love the smell of the leaves, and I never pass a tomato plant without rubbing a leaf between my fingers and sniffing.

Granted, the best way to enjoy a good tomato is on a tomato sandwich with sunbeam white bread, mayo, salt and pepper.  But here are some other of my favorite recipes to keep in mind when summer returns and brings with it an abundance of that wonderful fruit, the tomato.  Please do not attempt these recipes with those pink, flavorless, perfectly round things that you find at the grocer this time of year.

Tomato Pie

Cherokee purples or another salty & acidic variety of tomatoes would be best for this recipe.  Last year I made it with  a bunch of late season tomatoes that my neighbor gave me.

1 cup all purpose flour

3/4 cup yellow cornmeal

1 stick cold, unsalted butter, cut into little cubes

1 cup manchego cheese, shredded

2 tablespoons olive oil

1 large onion, thinly sliced

2 1/4 lbs tomatoes

 8 oz fresh mozzarella, shredded or cubed

 1/4 cup mayonnaise

3 tablespoons bread crumbs

3 tablespoons chopped fresh chives

3 tablespoons chopped fresh parsley

2 teaspoons chopped fresh thyme

balsamic vinegar for drizzling

kosher salt & pepper

For the crust, pulse together the flour, cornmeal, and 3/4 teaspoon salt in a food processor.  Add the butter and 1/4 cup manchego cheese; pulse until the mixture looks like coarse meal with pea-sized bits of butter.  Drizzle in 4 tablespoons ice water and pulse until the dough comes together.  Add more ice water if needed.  Turn dough out onto a sheet of plastic wrap and refrigerate until firm.

Roll the dough out to about a 13" round and transfer to a 9 1/2" pie pan.  Crimp the edges and poke holes in the bottom with a fork.  Refrigerate again for about 20 minutes.  Preheat oven to 350.

Line the crust with foil and cover the bottom with dried beans.  Bake until edges are golden.  Remove foil and beans and bake until golden all over.  Let cool.

For the filling, heat 1-2 tablespoons olive oil in a saute pan.  Add the onion and cook on very low heat.  Cook, stirring continuously, until the onion is caramelized (about 30 minutes).  Let cool.  Thinly slice tomatoes & toss with about 1 teaspoon salt in a colander.  Let drain for about 10 minutes.  Combine the remaining manchego cheese, mozzarella, mayonnaise, breadcrumbs, 2 tablespoons of each herb, salt and pepper and caramelized onion. 

Spread this mixture into the crust.  Arrange tomatoes on top.  Drizzle with oil and sprinkle with salt and pepper.  Cook until tomatoes start to brown.  Before serving, top with remaining herbs and drizzle with a scant amount of balsamic vinegar.

Enjoy!

Cornbread Salad

Southern tradition right here!

2 cups fine cornmeal such as

1egg

1 teaspoon baking soda 

1 teaspoon baking powder

buttermilk

3 tablespoons butter

1 large tomato, sliced (or 1 cup halved cherry tomatoes)

1 largish cucumber, sliced

1 small red onion sliced (or 2 shallots)

1 green onion, finely sliced

enough fresh parsley or thyme for garnish

kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper

 olive oil

cider vinegar or red wine vinegar

For the cornbread, preheat oven to 500.  Mix together the cornmeal, baking soda and baking powder.  Add the egg, about 1 tablespoon of cooled, melted butter and about 1 cup of buttermilk.  Mix and continue to add buttermilk until the mixture has the consistency almost of pancake batter, about 2 1/2 cups.  Use the remaining butter to grease your best seasoned cast iron skillet.  Pour in the batter and place in the oven.  Reduce the oven temperature to 425, and cook until top is golden brown.

While the cornbread is cooking, combine tomatoes, cucumber and onion (red and green).  Toss with enough oil and vinegar to heavily coat.  Add salt and pepper to taste.

To serve, crumble cornbread in a bowl.  Spoon over the tomato mixture, then pour about 1/4 cup buttermilk over everything.  Garnish with herbs and additional freshly ground black pepper. 

Now, go slap yo mama!

Basics

Spaghetti.  You know, Ragu.  That was all my husband or I could cook when we married.  We were doomed to eat the fried meat, over-cooked vegetable buffet three nights per week.  And lots of spaghetti.  Until my hubby started culinary school.  He attended the Art Institute of Atlanta with the expectation that our love of the outdoors would lead us to live in a resort town.  Almost ten years later, he works as a residential contractor and moonlighting electrician, and I am a pharmacist.  Not one paid chef between us.  We still live in the same old town, and we still have to drive 400 miles for decent backpacking.  BUT! we can cook.  Although husband hasn't used his culinary education as a means of making money, his little stint at AI has forever changed our life.  Questions that I never knew to ask in the kitchen were answered!  Our kitchen suddenly contained useful tools, and I knew how to use them!  I was no longer doomed to overcook chicken breasts for the rest of my life!  Or eat eggs so hard-boiled that the yolks were green!  Or eat frozen pizza!  Or be scared of goat cheese!  I was free!!

And I came to realize that it wasn't the complex and lofty techniques of Escoffier, nor the holier-than-thou, infused foam, prissily arranged plates of Food Network fame that have really made a difference.  Sure, learning how to make a perfect consommé will change your life, but the most truly life-changing things I have learned are the basics.  Basics are basic, not trivial.  If you don't have them, you have no base from which to work.  With that being said, we shall learn to boil and egg...

Boiling an Egg. I'm not kidding here.  A perfectly boiled egg is a thing of beauty, the yolk just set, but still soft and bright, sunshine yellow.  I can't tell you how many boiled eggs I've had whose yolks were powdery and slightly green from over-cooking.  For the perfect egg, place a room temperature egg in boiling water.  Boil for exactly eight minutes, then place the pot under cold running water for a minute or two.  Even that lofty Escoffier guy agrees with me on this eight minute thing.



Equally important...

Boiling Pasta. Al dente is the term used to describe pasta when it is perfectly cooked.  No more crunch in the middle, but just enough resistance when you chew it.  The term literally means "to the tooth", meaning that it needs to be chewed and is not mushy.  Mushy pasta is not pasta at all.  Please, people, never ever ever cook pasta according to the time given on the box.  Instead, regularly check a piece until you get that perfect pasta springiness.  Fresh pasta is a whole 'nother, heavenly ball game.

And lest we forget...

Salt. Throw out your iodized table salt and get some kosher salt.  Sure, most chefs say it's best to cook with kosher salt and finish with sea salt, but I find that kosher salt is good for all of it and much cheaper than sea salt.  (Still, I am tempted occasionally to spend $8 on some fluer de sel.)  And taste your food!  You should not need to season at the table.  That is all.

Moving on to less basic basics...

Vinaigrette. Just look at the ingredients on that dressing bottle next time you pull it out of the frig.  Or look at the expiration date.  Either way, you're going to be grossed-out.  I'm pretty sure the last bottle of dressing I bought was ten years ago, just before I learned how ridiculously simple it is to whip up any kind of vinaigrette.  First, get yourself a jar.  You know, like a mason jar.  Then add 3 parts oil to 1 part acid, such as red wine vinegar or citrus, plus any other aromatics, such as herbs, for flavor.  (Reduce the amount of oil if needed)  Now shake the jar! And when the oil separates in the frig, just shake it again!  Now you have the template for whatever kind of dressing you can dream up.  I'll give you some of my favorite examples, but I must admit that I stole the jar idea from that chick on Bitchin' Kitchen and the recipes are from Frank Stitt's Southern Table.  These are the only recipes I actually follow.  Mostly, I just throw some stuff together...

Balsamic Dressing

Place in the jar:

1 small shallot, minced (aromatic)

2 tablespoons balsamic vinegar (acid)

1 tablespoon red wine vinegar (acid)

1/2 cup olive oil (oil)

salt and pepper to taste

Shake it up!

Buttermilk Vinaigrette
This one is best if you whisk the ingredients together, slowly whisking in the oil last.  I love it for dipping fried green tomatoes!
2 tablespoons white wine vinegar
 2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
1/2 small shallot, minced
salt and pepper
1/2 cup buttermilk
 1/3 cup mayo
 2 tablespoons sour cream
2 tablespoons olive oil

Moving along...

Meat Temperatures. If you do not have a good meat thermometer, go buy one!  There is nothing as leathery and off-putting as overcooked meat.  Chicken breast sticks to your teeth and steak becomes inedibly tough.  Sure, I used to be afraid of that pink part in the middle of the steak, but that was before I knew that 140 degrees was a magical number where bacteria die and steak reaches that delicious state we call rare.  White meat chicken should be cooked to 165 degrees, while dark meat chicken can be cooked to 175 because of its fattier composition.  Once you have used your thermometer long enough, you will begin to be able to tell doneness by how firm the meat feels when you poke it with your  utensil.  If it feels like shoe leather, it will taste like shoe leather.  And always remember the phenomenon called carry-over; pull your meat just before it reaches the desired temp and allow it to rest for a few minutes.  The residual heat will finish the cooking process and the rest gives the juices in the meat time to redistribute.  Juicy!  Oh, and if you refrain from smashing your hamburger patties with the spatula next time you grill them, you will be rewarded with nice, juicy burgers; smashing them just squeezes all the flavorful juices out onto the coals.

I know, that was a long post.  I could have gone on and on about knife skills and about how putting a potato in aluminum foil is not baking at all, but I will stop now.  Thanks for reading!