Oktoberfest Pork and Spaetzle

The Setting: A crisp October day.

 

The Soundtrack: Washing machine and dryer...endless loads today.

Steaming up the Oven: Nothing yet, but there's a chicken in my fridge just begging to be roasted.

The Scenario: A celebration of the season. Good beer and great food.

For the two years that Hoosband and I lived in South Florida, we were beyond blessed with a bounty of diverse dining options.

As you might imagine, we frequently enjoyed an abundance of Latin and Caribbean cuisines.

But one of the things we most looked forward to at least once a week was happy hour at Old Heidelberg, the local German establishment.

The main dining room was the place for outstanding feasts of sausages, schnitzels, and suckling pig any day of the week.

But on weekdays from four to seven, the bar was the place to be.

Here, drink orders were delivered with a small, white saucer and free access to two giant chaffing dishes of simple, comforting goodness.

One dish was a starch, the other some form of meat--generally saucy, occasionally unidentifiable, always delicious.

It wasn't exactly haute cuisine, but it certainly had us coming back for more.

This time of year, when the supermarket beer aisles boast mountainous displays of seasonal Oktoberfest brews, I can't help trying to re-create a little Heidelberg happy hour here at home.

And now you can, too.

Oktoberfest Pork and Spaetzle
In an attempt to make the meal a smidge more wholesome, I like to add a little whole-wheat flour to the spaetzle. If you prefer a whiter spaetzle, feel free to substitute more white flour for the whole wheat.

~for the pork~
2 large onions, thinly sliced
2-3 lbs pork shoulder roast
2 cups crumbled gingersnaps (1/2-inch-sized crumbles)
2 T kosher salt
1/2 tsp freshly cracked black pepper
2 T paprika
1/2 tsp celery seed
1 bay leaf*
2 whole allspice berries, optional*
1/4 cup brown sugar
2 T Dijon mustard
2 tsp apple cider vinegar
1 (12-oz) Oktoberfest-style beer (I used Sam Adams Oktoberfest)

Place the onions in a slow cooker and top with the pork and remaining ingredients. Cover and cook on low for 12 hours or until pork is fall-apart tender when prodded with a fork.

This pork keeps, stored in an airtight container in the fridge, for up to one week and is even better a day or two after it's made. Simply reheat leftovers in the microwave.

*Remove before serving. Also watch out for bones or bone fragments if using a bone-in cut of meat.

~for the spaetzle~
2/3 cup whole wheat flour
2/3 cup all-purpose flour
1 tsp fine-grain sea salt
2 large eggs
1/3 cup milk
oil
1-2 T butter
2 T finely chopped parsley
salt and pepper to taste

In a medium-sized bowl, whisk together the flours, salt, eggs, and milk. Cover and set aside while you bring a large pot of water, plus 1 T salt and 1 T oil, to a boil.

Lightly coat a large platter or rimmed baking sheet with oil. Have a metal colander, a rubber spatula, and a heatproof spider or large slotted spoon handy.

Once the water is boiling, hold the colander over the boiling water and carefully pour 1/4 of the batter into the colander. With a rapid, stirring motion, use the spatula to push the batter through the holes of the colander and into the boiling water. Watch out for any rogue batter trying to escape from holes not positioned over the water--it happens. Use the spatula to carefully scrape excess batter clinging to the outside of the colander into the boiling water. The spaetzle cook almost immediately and float to the top when they are done. Set down the colander and use the spider or large slotted spoon to transfer the cooked spaetzle to the oiled baking sheet. Gently shake the sheet to keep the spaetzle from clumping together.

Note: if any raw batter gets caught on top of the cooked spaetzle at the top of the pot, simply use the spatula to poke it down into the water so it has a chance to cook through.

Repeat process with remaining batter.

At this point the spaetzle can either be cooled to room temperature, transferred to a lightly oiled, airtight container, and refrigerated for up to 4 days, or prepared as follows:

Melt the butter in a large saute pan or skillet over medium heat. Add the spaetzle, and cook 2-3 minutes, stirring occasionally. Stir in half the parsley and season lightly with salt and pepper if desired.

Top bowls of spaetzle with the pork and its juices, garnish with remaining parsley, and serve with a frosty glass of your favorite Oktoberfest brew.

Thanks for reading! Here's to Being the Secret Ingredient in your life.

Baked Conchiglie with Spicy Sausage, Kale, and Ricotta

The Setting: A mostly cloudy day in Nashville.

The Soundtrack: Oia's delightful baby banter.

Steaming up the Oven: Chocolate cake for a new recipe to be disclosed soon...assuming it turns out alright.

The Scenario: Comfort in a bowl, coming your way.

Every now and then I get a ridiculously intense, won't-go-away, got-to-have-it craving for lasagna.

It's not the layers of pasta that elicit this sensation--though, hey, layers of pasta are great.

But what makes me purr like Garfield the cat is that perfect combination of ultra-comforting flavors and textures: spicy, meaty, Italian sausage; juicy, acidic, and slightly sweet tomato; stretchy-gooey, melted mozzarella, golden and crunchy around the edges of the dish; and, most of all, super-fresh, creamy ricotta, oozing out with every press of fork to pasta.

In truth, it was the desire for fresh, local ricotta above all that sent me to the store not so long ago with a list of lasagna ingredients in hand.

So when a charming brown-paper bag of imported conchiglie (con-KEEL-yay) caught my eye on the pasta aisle, I placed my wavy lasagna sheets right back on the shelf and eagerly plopped the bag of curvy, ridged, ricotta-catching shells into my basket.

With pasta that traps the creamy cheese and hearty sauce so well, each bite is like a little present, popping with flavor and literally oozing with yumminess in every bite.

Look for fresh, locally made ricotta if you can--it makes all the difference!

Baked Conchiglie with Spicy Sausage, Kale, and Ricotta
Conchiglie simply means shells. While the word most often refers to the familiar conch-style shells of mac-and-cheese fame, it may also refer to the snail-shell-style conchiglie that inspired this dish. These particular shells are also often called lumache, which, appropriately enough, means snails.

1 lb hot Italian turkey sausage
4 medium-sized shallots, finely chopped (1 large or two small white onions would be fine in this dish as well; I just happened to have shallots on hand)
2 medium-sized carrots, finely chopped
2 ribs celery, finely chopped
freshly cracked black pepper
crushed red pepper flakes
salt
2 tsp garlic powder
1 T dried oregano
2 tsp dried basil
8 oz frozen chopped kale
2 (15 oz) cans plain tomato sauce
1 lb dried conchiglie
olive oil for the baking dish
2 lbs fresh ricotta
1 lb shredded mozzarella
several leaves fresh basil and flat-leaf parsley, finely chopped

Remove the casings from the sausage and brown the meat in a saute pan or skillet over med-high heat, using a heatproof rubber spatula to crumble the sausage into little pieces.

Meanwhile, place the shallots, carrots, and celery in a medium-sized saucepan over medium heat and season with black pepper and crushed red pepper flakes. Cover and cook 6 minutes. Season lightly with salt, add garlic powder and dried herbs, cover, and cook 10 minutes or until shallots and celery are translucent and carrots are softened, stirring occasionally and adjusting the heat if necessary.

When the sausage crumbles have browned on all sides, add the frozen kale to the sausage pan and season lightly with salt and pepper, stirring to combine. Reduce heat to med-low, cover, and cook just until kale has thawed. The moisture from the kale will help loosen any fond (browned bits) from the bottom of the pan so that you can scrape them up and incorporate them into the mixture.

Transfer the sausage mixture to the saucepan with the veggies. Stir in both cans of tomato sauce, cover, and cook while you prepare the pasta.

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees F. Lightly grease two 8x8x3-inch casserole dishes with olive oil.

Bring 4 quarts of generously salted water to boil in a large pot--you'll want to use about 1 T fine-grain salt or 1 1/2 T coarse salt.

Add the pasta and boil 8 minutes or until al dente (soft to touch but with a little firmness left in the bite). Strain the pasta, add it back to the pot, and return the pot to a burner set to low heat for about 1 minute to help drive off any excess moisture.

Pour the sauce over the pasta, and stir to coat evenly.

Place 1/4 of the pasta in each of the two prepared dishes, spreading the pasta into an even layer in each.

Dollop the ricotta (1 lb for each dish) evenly over the top of the pasta.

Spread out the riccotta in an even layer if desired, top with the remaining pasta, and finish with the shredded mozzarella.

Bake at 400 degrees F for 15 minutes, or until the mozzarella is completely melted and verging on golden and bubbly. Sprinkle with the fresh herbs, and serve.

Serves 8-10.

Thanks for reading. Here's to Being the Secret Ingredient in your life!

Braised Short Ribs and Polyface Farms

The Setting: A toy-scattered apartment in need of a good vacuuming.

The Soundtrack: Relative silence.

On the Stovetop: Chicken breasts for Vietnamese Chicken Salad.

The Scenario: Last weekend, Oia, Hoosband and I ventured down to Polyface Farms, home of outspoken champion of sustainable agriculture and author of such books as Salad Bar Beef, Folks, This Ain't Normal, and Everything I Want to Do is Illegal, Joel Salatin.

Farmers at heart ourselves and longtime fans of Salatin, we were excited to check out the farm, get a little inspiration, let the little one see some real, live farm animals, and pick up some organic, grass-fed meat.

Majestically situated in Virginia's Shenandoah Valley, the "farm of many faces" produces forage-based rabbits, "Pigaerator Pork," stewing hens, pastured turkeys, pastured broilers, pastured eggs, sustainable lumber, and "Salad Bar Beef."

Polyface cows (you can see one in the distance--it's the speck to the left of the third tree) feast on a new salad bar of pasture almost every day, which leads to healthier cows, healthier meat, and a healthier Earth.

Pigs work as they lounge, aerating their thick bedding and helping turn it into fertile compost.

Bunnies happily forage in a portable shelter among rows of berries and other crops.

Pastured broilers are moved to fresh pasture daily. They get plenty of exercise and eat local, GMO-free grains and freshly sprouted grasses.

Laying hens freely range from an egg-mobile that follows behind the cows. The chickens scratch through cow patties to "cleanse" the pastures as they go.

A solar panel helps make use of the sun's energy.

As part of their commitment to their community, the environment, and the local food movement, Polyface Farms will not ship any of their food out of state. Their products can be found at a handful of Virginia retailers, as well as in their own on-site store.

If shopping for Polyface products, don't expect supermarket prices. Of course, you'd be hard-pressed to find in the supermarket what you can find here: incredibly tasty meat, painstakingly produced by pasture-based practices, steadfastly dedicated to nurturing animals, land, and people back to health.

We left the farm with a package of beef short ribs and a deeper appreciation of where the food we eat should come from.

For more information on Polyface Farms, check out www.PolyfaceFarms.com or www.JoelSalatin.com.

Red Wine-Braised Short Ribs with Sweet Corn Polenta

This is a hearty, soul-warming dish, perfect for renewing one's spirits after a hard-day's work on the farm...or wherever else you toil. Grass-fed, "salad-bar" beef gives the dish a deep, enticingly minerally flavor and aroma. This is not a quick dish; its flavors are gradually developed and deepened as the connective tissue on the ribs slowly melts away to enrich the velvety sauce. If desired, the ribs can be made in advance, and the polenta can be prepared quickly before serving. Precise measurements for the ingredients are not nearly as important as slowing down to make and enjoy this meal with the ones you love.

For the beef:

flour

garlic powder

salt

freshly cracked black pepper

oil (such as vegetable or peanut) for the pan

2 1/2 lbs beef short ribs

8 oz cremini (baby portabella) mushrooms, sliced

1-2 T unsalted butter

1 large onion, diced

3 large carrots, diced

3-4 ribs celery (including any leaves), diced

1 1/2 T tomato paste

2 tsp dried oregano

2 tsp dried basil

2 cups dry red wine (I used a cheap Pinot noir)

2 cups unsalted beef stock

For the Polenta:

3 ears sweet corn

1-2 T unsalted butter

salt

freshly cracked black pepper

pinch sugar

2 cups unsalted beef stock

1 cup water

1 cup dry polenta (preferably organic)

4 oz (1/2 package) cream cheese

Garnish:

several leaves fresh basil

several leaves fresh flat-leaf parsley

In a wide, shallow dish or baking pan, whisk together about 1/2 cup flour and about 2 tsp each garlic powder, salt, and pepper.

Pour just enough oil into a 4-quart, heavy-bottomed saucepan or Dutch oven to coat the bottom, and place over med-high heat.

Dredge the short ribs in the flour, lightly coating on all sides.

Shake any excess flour back down into the dish as you transfer each section of short ribs to the saucepan. Avoid crowding the pan; work in batches if necessary. Brown the ribs on both sides (about 2 minutes on each), adjusting the heat if necessary to prevent burning. Remove pan from heat and transfer ribs to a clean plate, also transferring any large pieces of browned bits that easily come out of the pan. Cover and set aside.

Place the pan back over medium-to-med-high heat and add just enough oil to re-coat the bottom. Add the mushrooms (ideally, you won't crowd the pan...but don't stress too much if you do). Season the mushrooms with pepper only, cover, and cook 5 minutes, stirring once or twice.

Lift the lid, season lightly with salt, and add the butter to the pan, stirring to scrape up any browned bits and flipping the mushrooms to help them cook evenly. Cover and cook 5 more minutes.

Stir in the onions, cover, and cook 5 minutes. Season very lightly with salt, cover, and cook 5 more minutes.

Stir in the carrots and celery, season very lightly with salt and pepper, cover, and cook 10 minutes, stirring occasionally.

Stir in the tomato paste and dried herbs and cook 1-2 minutes.

Increase heat slightly, add the wine, and stir to scrape up and incorporate any browned bits on the bottom of the pan. Add the beef stock and short ribs (along with any juices or browned bits on the plate) and bring just to a boil. Reduce heat to med-low, cover, and gently simmer for 3-4 hours, or until the meat is fall-off-the-bone tender.

To prepare the polenta, cut the corn off the cobs, and place the kernels in a skillet or saute pan over med-high heat along with the butter and a pinch of sugar (the longer your corn has been sitting around, the more sugar you are likely to need; if your corn is very, very fresh and in the peak of the season, you may not need any sugar at all). Season with salt and pepper. Cook 10 minutes, or until the corn is fragrant and some of the kernels are slightly browned, stirring occasionally to keep corn from adhering to the bottom of the pan.

Meanwhile, bring the beef stock, water, and a pinch of salt to a boil in a medium-sized saucepan. Slowly pour in the polenta, whisking as you pour. Be careful, as it has the tendency to bubble and spatter. Cook for 1 minute, continuing to whisk the whole time. Remove from the heat and whisk in the cream cheese until smooth. Fold in the corn.

Finely chop the fresh basil and parsley.

Serve the short ribs, along with the sauce, over bowls of the polenta. Sprinkle liberally with the freshly chopped herbs.

Serves 4.

 

Thanks for reading. Here's to Being the Secret Ingredient in your life!

French Kiss: Parmesan-Buttered Croque Monsieur

The Setting: Fleece socks; lots of layers; frozen fingertips; sleeping baby.

The Soundtrack: Snow shovels scraping asphalt.

Steaming up the (microwave) Oven: Hot water for tea, Black Cherry Berry this time. It's good, but I prefer Lemon Zinger.

The Scenario: Dreaming of romantic times and warmer climes.

Early in our relationship Hoosband and I did a little falling in love in the Basque Country.

Along with our friend Joyner, our collective backpacks, and our trusty, rented Peugeot, we drove from Barcelona to Bordeaux, from Pamplona to Perpignan, stopping upon the Pyrenees and along the coasts as we pleased.

We were young, adventurous, and cash-strapped. It was, as you can imagine, amazing.

One of our first stops was the beach-town of Biarritz, France, along the Bay of Biscay. We stopped on a whim to dip our toes in the water and decided to stay for lunch.

It was here, at what was more of a concession-stand than a cafe, that I consumed my first croque-monsieur.

A French take on a ham-and-cheese sandwich, the so-called "Mr. Crunch" came hot, pressed, and oozing with bechamel and melted Gruyere. Now that is my kind of fast food.

Parmesan-Buttered Croque-Monsieur
Rather than keeping the Gruyere and bechamel separate, I like to mix them together without fully melting the cheese, making a sort of chunky Mornay sauce--sometimes I add a little Parmesan to the sauce as well. As for the bread and ham, I like a good sandwich bread such as Whole Foods' 365 Snappy Sourdough or a homemade whole wheat (as pictured in this post), and either shaved Virginia ham from the deli counter or a mix of deli ham and prosciutto (using all prosciutto can make it too salty). Coating the outsides of the bread with a simple Parmesan compound butter lends extra flavor and crunch.

1 oz unsalted butter
1 oz flour
1 cup milk (skim is fine)
3/4 tsp kosher salt
1/4 tsp coarse black pepper
4-5 oz coarsely shredded Gruyere cheese
Parmesan Compound Butter, room temperature, recipe follows
Bread of choice
Ham of choice

Make the Mornay Sauce: Gently melt the butter in a small saucepan over medium-to-med-low heat. Whisk in the flour to form a roux. Whisk in the milk very gradually to avoid creating lumps. Continue cooking and whisking until the sauce is just thick enough to coat the back of a spoon and stay parted when you run your finger through it (on the spoon). Remove from heat and stir in the cheese.

Makes enough for several sandwiches. Keeps well for up to one week stored in an airtight container in the fridge.

Make the Sandwich: Set a small skillet over med-high heat. Butter the outsides of two pieces of bread with the Parmesan butter. Place one piece buttered-side-down in the skillet. Top with a generous dollop of Mornay sauce, followed by ham, more Mornay sauce, and the remaining slice of bread, buttered side up. Use a large spatula to press the sandwich layers together and help you get a good sear on the bread. Cook 2-4 minutes on each side or until the bread is golden and crunchy and the cheese sauce is oozing and bubbly.

Croque Madame Variation: To make "Mrs. Crunch," top the Croque Monsieur with a fried egg.

Croque d'Auvergne Variation: Use Bleu d'Auvergne, a soft blue cheese from Auvergne, France, in place of the Gruyere.

Parmesan Compound Butter
You can use American Parmesan or another good imitation if you'd like, but nothing will be quite as good as the real thing.

1 stick (1/2 cup) unsalted butter, softened at room temperature
1/4 cup freshly grated Parmigiano-Reggiano
1/2 tsp kosher salt
1/4 tsp coarse black pepper

Combine all ingredients in an electric mixer till light and fluffy. Transfer to an airtight container and store in the fridge for up to two weeks.

Thanks for reading! Here's to Being the Secret Ingredient in your life.