31 January 12
How to Make Bacon
Making Bacon is so very, very much easier than you could possibly imagine. It takes a long time, this is true. This is not immediate gratification food, however good things are often very worth the wait. However, while you will be waiting anxiously, you won’t have to actually do that much work.
This is not a recipe, that can be gotten by reading a book or a website, but this is a breakdown of the necessary steps to show how easy it is to encourage you to do this yourself.
1. But a good quality pork belly. We purchased ours from Butcher & Larder. The pig came from Slagel Farms. This is more expensive than going to Jewel and buying pre-packaged bacon wrapped in plastic. But you’re doing this because the cost is worth the better taste payoff. Trust me!
2. Purchase pink curing Salt. We purchased ours from The Spice House. One ounce will be enough for 25 pounds of meat, so you don’t need much at all.
3. Mix your pink curing salt, sugar, and regular kosher or sea salt together. Measure this by weight. Add in flavorings. We used 1/4 cup maple syrup for 3 pounds of pork belly. Rosemary, thyme, citrus, anything could taste good.
4. Rub this seasoning/curing mix all over your pork. Put it in a very large plastic bag. Place this plastic bag in a cake pan or other item that will let it lie flat and catch any drips if you spring a leak.
5. Flip the bag over every 12 hours for 6-9 days. As the cure does its magic, it will make the meat firmer and firmer. Once it is firm, you’re ready to smoke.
6. Set up a smallish amount of coals in a tray with some hard wood chips, shavings, chunks, etc. We used apple from our very own backyard apple tree that we pruned and let season for a year. The were about 1” in diameter and 12” long. It doesn’t take much to create smoke. Light your coals, get the smoke going and set this to one side of your grill.
7. Place your meat over an area where it is not in direct heat. Stick a thermometer in it that is safe for leaving in the meat. Watch your meat and pull it when its internal temperature is 150˚F. You want to keep the temperature in your grill at 180˚F and 200˚F. This means you’ll have to peek in frequently and adjust the flue, and/or occasionally raise the lid to reduce the heat. It may even be a good idea to wait until the heat lowers to the desired range before you put your meat in.
8. Check your meat every 15-30 minutes to check for temperature fluctuations and add coals as needed.
9. If after 3 hours of smoking you don’t have the correct internal temperature, take it off the grill and put it in your oven at 200˚F until it is done.
10. Let it cool to touch. Remove the skin. Slice off a piece. Fry it gently over medium heat.
11. Eat. Shed tears of joy because it is the best bacon you’ve ever had.
So this isn’t easy. Bacon is a sometimes food and a sometimes project. But it is well worth the wait, the patience, and the time involved to get what you get.
Comment [1]
13 May 10
It's HEEERREE!
My book is here. In my house. In my hand. In my kitchen. And it looks great and it makes me happy and I read the acknowledgments page and cried (again) and I reread parts and smiled. I’m proud of this. And while I understand if you don’t buy the book. I’d be delighted if you would actually purchase it. I have a pen specifically for making autographs that the delightful Veronica got me. I guess I should practice my signature a bit.
And, in case you’re interested in seeing more pictures of things I’ve made in cast-iron skillets, finding any errata that comes my attention, or links to other recipes, books, sellers, etc. then head on over to CinnamonCooper.com which is where I’ll be posting all the info that is fit to print to support the book.
Comment [2]
14 February 10
I AM AWESOME!
Every once in a while I decide to try doing something that has seemed BIG and SCARY and totally out of my realm of abilities. And sometimes I fail so miserably that I never mention it again.
Tonight, however, tonight I succeeded with such amazing and total WIN that I had to share. I poached eggs. Successfully. On my first try! Take that Julia Child!
Now, it’s not like I came up with all the skills on my own, I had the internet to thank. But oh my word I’m so happy that I managed to poach 4 delicious eggs on my first try. So happy that I still have the taste of them in my mouth and yet I’m rushing to upload a picture and share it with you.
The rest of the stuff under the egg looks less than tasty, but it was freakishly good. We had french fries that Andrew had left over from a visit to Five Guys (and this was only half of his leftovers!!!) and I’d put them in the freezer until I had time to make hash. So I pulled them out and let them thaw a bit, then I chopped them up so they were a bit smaller. I then cooked a few pieces of bacon, removed it from the skillet, and threw in 1/2 of a tube of chorizo and the chopped fries. They cooked in the bacon fat. I chopped up the bacon, threw it back in the pan. Easy, quick, leftovers be gone!! and yes, I can feel my pants getting tired and my heart clogging up a bit, but it’s okay because I AM AWESOME and I poached eggs.
I poached 4 eggs and they came out great on my first try. This is going to be an awesome, awesome week.
Comment [8]
08 January 10
Nil by Mouth
Roger Ebert (yes the movie guy) wrote a piece for the Chicago Sun-Times yesterday about how he will never eat or drink again, and how he doesn’t really miss it.
I’ve seen Ebert recently and he doesn’t look like the hot-blooded and kinda cantankerous guy that he once was that I watched on Saturday mornings as he argued with Siskel about whose opinion regarding a movie that I’d never end up seeing was better. But he didn’t look bad. He’s older than he was 25 years ago and he’s more frail, and he’s slower for sure. But he didn’t seem like he was miserable and just waiting to die. He was at a movie screening, so he is still able to do at least some of the things he truly enjoys.
But I read his piece about how he doesn’t miss eating. After all he doesn’t have to worry about gaining weight and he’s got more time now to do other things that he enjoys. And he writes about how his memories, some of which are food-related, are coming back with such strong force that he’s overwhelmed by them.
I’m blessed to have my health and the ability to make anything I want to eat (almost, really) but I just can’t fathom how he can lose the ability to eat and not miss it. Eating and food is something I enjoy so much that I just can’t imagine saying, “Oh, well since I don’t have to make dinner I guess I’ll just knit for another hour.” Knitting, sewing, writing, nothing, and I do mean nothing, could replace how much I enjoy eating.
After I read his article last night, I just shook my head repeatedly, completely unsure of how he can be okay with this. And then it dawned on me. He didn’t make his life eating and cooking. He made his life watching movies and writing and talking about them, criticizing and encouraging them. If I found out I could never watch another movie, I’d be sad and feel left out occasionally, but I don’t think I’d miss that nearly as much as I’d miss eating.
So eating is to Ebert, what movie-watching is to me. Which is cool, no? But it is especially interesting, since Ebert is writing a cookbook about rice-cookers.
23 October 09
The Everything Cast Iron Cookbook: Coming Soon
(I wrote this several days ago and honestly thought I’d posted it. Silly pending button right next to the Live button.)
A little while ago I chewed on my thumbnail and opened an email from my editor at Adams Media Group. I wasn’t sure how bad the edits would, how harsh the criticism, how lacking my writing skills. I had nothing to worry about. My charming editor (who I truly hope to meet one day) wrote me a gentle set of edits that needed to be made and edits she made that she’d like me to approve or rewrite. I started out nervous and ended up grateful. So I lengthened my Introduction (those of you who know me know how odd it is that I had to lengthen something I wrote), added in a few missing elements, approved some reordering and other very obvious edits. And then I returned the manuscript to my editor who will pass it on to the next editor.
She will make new changes and either send the manuscript back to me for more edits, or she’ll send it to a copyeditor who will go through it with furious red track changes and let me know how inconsistent my writing style was. I know what many of my inconsistencies are. I see them of course now after the manuscript is completely out of my control for a while. Kinda like all those time you think of that great comeback the day after you needed it.
But I’ll have at least one more round of edits and I’ll view F&Gs (pub geek speak for “fold and gathers”, or printer proofs), and then I’ll get the final book. And it will have that cover on it. And I like the cover. I was worried I would hate it, but I like it.
In case you’re interested, the book is available for presale on Amazon.com and on IndieBound as well. The book won’t be for sale until June, but that means that I’ve got several months to get a website together (very, very basic website) and do some promo work. I want this book to be hugely popular. That way, when I’m ready to do another one . . .
Yes, I said when. And no I’m not sure what it will be. And I will waffle back and forth between “of course” and “no, never” several times I’m sure. But right now I’m feeling very “of course” about it all. We’ll see how long that feeling lasts.
Comment [2]
14 October 09
Meditation with a knife
I had a crappy day. I was grumpy, on the verge of tears, tired, hungry, and torn between just curling up in a ball and staring at the wall and feeling like I had to do something, accomplish something get something done. And then I remembered there was a three pound wild boar shoulder roast thawing in the refrigerator. I had grand plans to make it Monday night after I went to the Gapers Block book club, but that didnt’ happen. And yesterday I was at work even later than I was tonight, so that didn’t happen so tonight I decided “Dammit! This WILL make me happy!”
So even though Andrew prodded me to eat something, and gave me a hug, and did his best to make me feel better, I insisted I was fine, ushered him out of the kitchen, and set to cleaning up from last night’s Bacon Jam fest (more to come on that!) and got my personal prep station ready.
It took a while, and if I’d been in a hurry, I would have been annoyed, but I carefully trimmed the boar shoulder of all fat and silver skin. I cut it into even-ish pieces. I seared them over medium high heat in just a touch of oil oil. I chopped a large Spanish onion the long way. I chopped a fennel bulb, which just isn’t easy. I sauteed those in the pan drippings and waited for them to just start to caramelize. Then I added half a head of garlic and then a glass of white wine (cause I didn’t have red open). I deglazed the pan to remove the fond, I hand crushed 2 large cans of the reddest, ripest, most aromatic canned tomatoes I’ve ever smelled (Go Certo!). I strirred in some dried basil, marjoram, salt, and pepper.
And by the time I was done and was wiping down my prep tools and the counter and watching the large pot full of rich tomato sauce simmer, I realized something. I did feel better. I didn’t feel great. I didn’t even feel friendly. But I did feel better. I had accomplished something.
And that’s when I realized that cooking is a meditation for me. The repetitive chopping, shredding, stirring, tasting. It’s all meditation. I was focused on the task in my hands, not on why my day was a mess. I was focused, but in a relaxed way, and I was letting my body work at a comfortable pace with no awareness of what was going on outside myself and my actions. (Except for making sure that Rocky The Impossible Kitten didn’t make it into the pile of meat scraps on the cutting board, that is.)
So whether it was the feeling that I did something, made something, took unusuable, unedible items and turned them into what smells like an amazing sauce for tomorrow night’s dinner, or whether it was just the doing and the relaxation and the focus, I’m not sure. But the end result is that I’m happier than I was at 7pm. And that is a good thing.
Comment [1]
14 August 09
Food Should Not Make You Feel Guilty
I know I have an atypical approach to food when compared to the average American woman. I am better at understanding and accepting this difference than I was, and I owe a certain feminist book club gratitude for that. But a conversation that I had with two friends yesterday struck me as odd at the time, but it’s stuck with me so I felt the need to process it externally a bit.
I like food. A lot. Yes, I’m no longer the size 2 I was when I moved to Chicago. But I’m honestly okay with that. I wish some of the clothes I had from that time fit me still, but in general I don’t spend much time thinking about how whether what I’m eating is going to cause me to lose weight. And I realize that I’m very fortunate to not be diabetic, or have thyroid issues, or even have allergies to common items that are hard to avoid. Because this helps permit me the ability to think about what I want to eat and then to figure out how best to make that happen. I’m also lucky that I don’t have to count pennies to feed my small family. I’ve been there, and it makes you think about food differently.
Yesterday I went to Hot Doug’s restaurant for lunch. Hot Doug’s is a very casual restaurant that serves fancy sausages with fancy cheeses and fancy mustards and sauces. They also serve french fries cooked in duck fat two days a week. And they have tater tots and corn dogs. It’s not healthy, or remotely “good for you”. And you frequently have to wait at least 30 minutes in line before you get to sit at a table with your fancy fast-food lunch.
As we were waiting in line, we started talking about how we would balance our hotdog eating extravaganza later on. And until it was brought up, I hadn’t thought about it at all. Hot Doug’s is a treat. I can rarely go so I make it there 2 or 3 times a year. If it was closer and easier to get to, it may be different for me. But it’s distance and daytime-only hours automatically make a treat item. And because it is classified in my mind as a treat, I don’t think twice about going when I have the chance. I also don’t think about how I’m going to adjust my eating habits for the next few days to make up for having eaten a hot dog and tater tots dipped in cheese sauce.
But as I’m planning a meal, or choosing a dinner off a plate. I try to pick items so I have a balanced and varied diet and I try to listen to my cravings to see what I want. Fat content and calories rarely comes into play when I think about this. Wednesday, for example, I had 2 slices of bacon, 1 fried egg, and some leftover rice that I fried in the skillet with the bacon. Not a “healthy” breakfast, right? For lunch I needed to know how long to cook a hamburger in a skillet so I bought ground beef, made a patty, timed it and then ate it. So at dinner I look over a menu and realize that I’m craving something green, crunchy, fresh, and maybe even raw. So I had a salad with melon and goat cheese and it was great.
So when I was ready to choose my dog on Thursday, I wasn’t thinking about how I’d balance my hotdog later on. I was thinking about how I would enjoy my hotdog right then. Because I firmly think that eating food shouldn’t make you feel guilty. I don’t think that food and guilt should ever be a joined idea. Food is food, it nourishes our bodies, and hopefully our souls as well. When I eat a hotdog at Hot Doug’s, I enjoy every bite. I relish the combination of the well-thought out sauces and cheese combinations. I dream of eating everything on the menu. I get ideas for things to try later (like pork cutlets with a mustard/olive sauce based on the muffuletta mustard on a hotdog I ate). But, most importantly, I enjoy what I’m eating while I’m eating it.
Later in the evening, when dinner time rolled around and I was with my fellow craft mafia babes. I thought about what I’d eaten and what I was interested in. Semiramis has this great falafel wrap chock full of crunchy lettuce, tomatoes, tahini, and pickle spears. And yes the falafel was fried. But I decided that I wanted that anyway. If I’d been hungry enough, I would have ordered a side salad, but I still wasn’t very hungry.
Then today, after two days of eating fairly high-fat meals, and knowing that dinner would have some very cheesy mac’n‘cheese involved in it, I was going through the refrigerator and saw some leftover spinach that I’d sauteed. I decided to warm it up, but wanted something more to go with it. And, in a move that I rarely take, I decided to separate two eggs and mix just the egg whites into the spinach to bind it together. The yolks were cooked and will be served to my older kitty who really liked it and who needs to gain some weight. But I didn’t do this because I was supposed to, or because I felt guilty, but because it was what felt right.
And I think this is the disconnect that many other people have, and it’s what I can’t seem to understand. I eat what sounds good and I try to make sure that I’m eating more vegetables than cheese. I tend to eat more fish and more chicken than I do beef or pork. Pork is impossible to get in our neighborhood and I just rarely think about cooking beef. (It’s one of the hardest chapters of this cookbook to write, actually.) But since I tend to be anemic, I try to keep track of how often I eat it so I can keep track of how I’m feeling to know when I need to eat some. But during the summer, I’m more likely to crave spinach or greens, than I am beef. And I’m okay with that, because I’m listening to what my body is telling me I need.
Comment [1]
12 August 09
Deep-Frying isn't as bad for you as you may think
So during this cookbook adventure I’ve set myself onto, I’ve had to do a fair amount of cooking of dishes I’ve either been meaning to make but never have (hello! Sweetbreads!) and dishes I’ve made but wanted to make better. Fried chicken is one of the dishes I wanted to improve on. So after reading about 500 other recipes for fried chicken, I settled on some assumptions and gave it a go. And not only did I give it a general go, but I decided to fry up about 4 pounds of chicken legs, cause they’re my favorite. And really, it’s all about what I want, honestly.
So I set a huge Dutch oven over a medium to medium-high flame and then I poured 1 quart of oil into the pan. 1 quart of peanut oil. Yep! 8 cups of oil. Oh my gawd! Do you feel your arteries clogging as you read that? Well, they shouldn’t. And here is why. And I’d read it, but I figured it was kinda bogus. But I’d meant to test it and I never did, and well, here is what I learned.
Deep-frying doesnt’ cause foods to soak up oil. IF you do it right. IF you keep the oil above 325˚F (according to the food scientist people I found on The Internet) then your food will seal immediately and then not soak up the dreaded oil. And it’s true. Deep-frying, in the case of my fried chicken recipe, was lower in fat than if I’d pan-fried the chicken. How do I know?
Well, I poured one quart of oil into the Dutch oven. I fried 4 pounds of chicken legs. I then let the oil cool so I could pour it back into the bottle and either filter it for use again or discard it if I had to. And you know what? The bottle was full again. Well, almost full. TWO TABLESPOONS of oil disappeared while I was DEEP-FRYING 4 pounds of chicken. That’s less than 1/2 of a teaspoon of oil per serving. 1 teaspoon of oil is a serving according to the bottle of oil. And even if I was pan searing the chicken to bake in the oven, I would have likely used more oil than that.
So, the next time someone is all “ew” when you mention the word deep-frying, you can let them know (cause I told you! and I’m an expert!) that deep-frying isn’t bad for you. What you deep-fry may not be healthy, but the cooking method isn’t as bad for you as many people think. And, I couldn’t be happier about that. Cause, oh man, do I love a good piece of fried chicken now and then.
Comment [1]
« Older ·
