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Cider Bird


Regardless of the bird you’re fixin’ to cook, trust me when I say it will benefit from a good brining; this is one of those restaurant secrets that answers the age old question, “Why is what they make always better than mine?”

Brining is easy, so there’s no reason not to do it, but naturally, you still wonder why you should, right? Good question! Brining makes things notably juicier in a couple of ways. First off, the mild salt solution that is a brine allows the flesh to absorb liquid during brining. Since we know for a fact that dang near any flesh we cook looses moisture during that process, anything we can do to counteract that will lead to juicier meat. So, really and truly, when you brine you’re starting out with flesh that is juicier from the get go, so it ends up juicier. Brined meats end up 6% to 8% heavier than they do if we don’t brine them; solid proof that they gained moisture from the process. Secondly, brining dissolves some proteins in muscle fibers, turning them from solid to liquid during the process. Softer equals tender and that’s what we want to eat, right?

Convinced on the science? Cool, lets get cooking!

I’ve taken to thawing our bird by brining, which kills two birds with one rock. If you buy fresh turkey, you don’t need to thaw of course, but the brining process remains the same. Many folks wonder at this point how long is too long for brining. The answer is a function of both brine strength and the weight of the flesh being brined. Standard brine ratio is 1 cup salt to 1 gallon liquid, (See salt note below). Most of us will buy whole turkeys in the range of 10 to 24 pounds; we will want to brine birds in that weight range for between 12 to 24 hours in a standard brine concentration, or roughly an hour per pound of whole turkey. As such, if you’re working with a 16 pound bird, plan on a brining period around 16 hours and you’re good to go. And FYI, A little leeway to either side ain’t gonna hurt a thing, either.

So, your basic brine ratio is 1 cup salt to 1 gallon of water. Trust me when I tell y’all that, weighed out, that’ll be 10 ounces of table salt for each gallon of nice, clean water. If you’re gonna use the kosher salts you’re likely to find at your local store, I’ll save you some weighing time there, too:
Morton Kosher salt = 7 ounces per cup
Diamond Kosher salt = 5 ounces per cup
Anything else you find or use, weigh it out and go from there.
Note: do not use iodized salt for brining; it can add a nasty off flavor you don’t want!

For this bird, we’re going to replace the water with apple cider, so our brine recipe per gallon will look like this:
1 Gallon Apple Cider
5 – 7 Ounces Kosher Salt
1 Tablespoon fresh ground Black Pepper
1-2 dashes Tabasco

I buy birds in the 15 to 18 pound range, and plan on 2 gallons of cider as the base for a bird this size, but of course that depends on what you’re brining in, right? Your best bet is a food grade plastic bucket, which are readily available in this day and age; just make sure you’re getting food grade, so you’re not introducing any plastic nastiness into your food, right? With that as your vessel, you’ll have some cider left over for a bird of anywhere from 12 to 20 pounds. Warm some up to enjoy while your bird cooks!

Plan ahead for this process. If you are going to be brining a whole bird, you will also want an additional 6 to 12 hours between the brining and the cooking; more on this in a bit. In other words, if you’re thawing and brining, your process needs to begin nice and early on the day before turkey day.

Start out by prepping your brine. Combine all brine ingredients and stir thoroughly until all your salt has dissolved.

Next comes unwrapping, unpacking and rinsing your bird. Make sure you find any little packets of giblets, neck, etc, (Don’t be that cook that misses those for somebody to discover deep in the bird on the festive day…)

Slip that bird into the bucket and gently pour in the brine. Make sure you’ve got enough in there to completely cover the bird. If you’re a bit short, make more, no big deal, no pressure! You may need to weigh your bird down to make sure it stays immersed. Just take care that whatever you use is sanitized and OK for being next to food. I use plates inverted and stacked until the bird sinks. Place your brine bucket in a clean, cool, dark corner.

Pay attention to the food safety temperature range during brining, without fail! Your brine and bird must remain under 40 F at all times, period; if you need to add a little ice, do so. If you need to add a lot, compensate with a bit more salt.

When your brining period is done, pour out the brine, (NEVER reuse brine!), gently rinse the bird in clean, cold water, then pat it dry with clean paper towels and then transfer to a roasting pan.

Now, If you want your bird to have a golden, crispy skin, (And you do, right?!), it needs to sit in the refrigerator, uncovered, for 4 to 6 hours after brining. This will allow moisture to evaporate from the skin, and also lets the meat reabsorb some moisture as well.

Preheat your oven to 350 F.

Keep your bread stuffing to a casserole dish and prepare a nice juicy cavity filler for the bird.
1-2 Oranges
1/2 Sweet Onion
1 stalk Celery
Tablespoon Canola Oil
1/2 teaspoon Sage
1/2 teaspoon Sea Salt
1/2 teaspoon ground Black Pepper

Rough chop the orange, onion, and celery, (and if you have celery leaves, use those!). Throw those in a mixing bowl, then add oil, Sage, salt and pepper, then combine thoroughly. Stuff your bird’s cavity thoroughly. Place the bird on a rack in a roasting pan, and add 2 cups of clean water to the pan. Insert an internal thermometer to the thickest part of the breast.

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Standard roasting times, stuffed, at 350 F follow; that said, the only real way to know when the bird is done is by internal temperature, and we’re looking for 165 F.

10 to 18 pounds 3-3/4 to 4-1/2 hours

18 to 22 pounds 4-1/2 to 5 hours

22 to 24 pounds. 5 to 5-1/2 hours

Start your roast with the bird uncovered, then cover loosely with foil for the last hour. Basting isn’t necessary, but it sure doesn’t hurt.

When the bird is done, remove it from the oven and let it rest for 20 minutes prior to carving; the rest is vital to allowing juices to equalize throughout the cooked bird, so don’t cheat!

Carve, admire, enjoy, and get ready for leftovers,

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Monica and I wish y’all a peaceful Thanksgiving with those you love.

Frijoles Mexicanos


Del sent a comment on the prior post, to whit;
“Maybe you’ll know the answer here but I’m wondering about the use of black beans in a dish referred to as Tex-mex. No bean of that sort has ever crossed the door of any cook on the Tejano side of my family. I’m wondering if it’s a difference of where in Mexico (ones) family originated or if pinto beans were all they found when they got to Texas so that’s what became traditional.
One side of the Mexican heritage in my family came from San Luis Potosi in 1917 and the other side varies from those who came to Texas direct from the Canary Islands in the 1500s to those with origins in all parts of northern Mexico.
No black beans anywhere there or in the family owned small restaurants that we favor. We do see them some in the upscale places (when I get forced into going to them) and in the ones that feature seafood from the central and south gulf coast.
Thoughts?”

(Slightly edited for content, because I can)

It’s an interesting question, indeed. And what a sad, sad thing, to be without frijoles negros in ones life…

First off, I’ll say without hesitation that we’ve had black beans in a bunch of Tex Mex joints in Texas, in the same neck of the woods as Del; what does that say, other than that we apparently don’t go to the same places? Not much.

Next, let’s look at the regions where Del’s people came from.

In the dominant cuisine of the central Mexican El Bajio region where San Luis Potosi is located, the pinto is and was more common than black beans, by far.

And those Canary Island roots are another great melting pot cuisine. Influences of the native Guanche people have blended with the ruling Spanish, as well as the cuisines of African and Latin American slaves and workers. There are beans and bean dishes there, but it’s as likely to be Ropa Vieja made with garbanzos as it is any other dish or variety. So, no big black bean influence there, either, (Albeit there are ‘native’ varieties in Spain and Portugal).

That said, my rather extensive studies of Mexican cuisine indicate that, in fact, black beans are quite common in Mexico, but more so by far in the south than the north and on the east coast more than the west. If you read Mexican regional cookbooks by genuine experts, you’ll find both black and reds in profusion. That said, the regional variations in Mexican cookery are easily as complex as Italian, Spanish, or French cuisines, and anyone who says otherwise is just plain wrong.

Black beans were indeed brought north and integrated into Tex Mex cooking from the get go to some degree, (They’re also common in New Mexican, Caribbean, and Cuban cooking). For my mind, the predominance of the pinto or chili bean en El Norte is likely more driven by gringo taste than by Tex Mex cook’s preferences; the black bean is a relative new comer as a commonly legume en Los Estados Unidos; the reds have been around far longer.

Regardless, cuisines including Tex Mex are rarely static; they evolve and that is a good thing. To some degree, I question the term “authentic” quite often; I mean, technically, ‘Confit’ means meat cooked in oil, and only meat. As such, when Daniel Boulud features a ‘tomato confit’ as part of a dish, is that not authentic?

So, where do Black Turtle beans, as they’re formally known, (as well as Black Magic, Blackhawk, Domino, Nighthawk, Valentine, and Zorro), come from? After all, that’s the real crux of the debate, isn’t it? According to El Universidad Autónoma Agraria Antonio Narroas in Saltillo, Mexico, and as fate would have it, Phaseolus vulgaris were first cultivated around 7,000 years ago in… Central America and Mexico.

The bottom line to me is this; if you make it and you like it, you can call it whatever you like, and use any color bean that floats your boat.

Adios.

Tex Mex Rice & Beans


Got a message the other day to the effect that I hadn’t posted go-to recipes for Tex Mex rice and bean sides, to which the writer added, ‘I know you got ’em’. Indeed I do, and my bad for not ponying up; let’s correct that error and omission, shall we?

I hesitate to call these classics; they’re just what we do most and like best with our stuff. Try ’em, I’ll bet you’ll like ’em.

Go-To Tex Mex Rice:
1 Cup white Rice
1 3/4 Cups Chicken Stock
1 Tablespoon unsalted Butter
1/2 jalapeño chile, stemmed, seeded, cored and minced.
1-2 slices sweet Onion, minced
3-5 sprigs Cilantro, minced
1/2 teaspoon Mexican Oregano
Pinch of Sea Salt
Grind of black Pepper

Rinse your rice in a colander or sieve two or three times until the water runs clear.

Heat stock and butter to a boil, then throw rice, chile, and onion into the pot and cook as per directions for rice.

When the rice is done cooking and the it’s rest phase, add cilantro, oregano and season to taste with salt and pepper.

Go-To Tex Mex Beans

1 16 ounce can (Or 16 ounces dry) Beans
1 Cup stock, (Pork, Beef, or Veg)
1 Tablespoon Shallot, minced
1/4 jalapeño chile, stemmed, seeded, cored and minced.
1/4 Roma Tomato, stemmed, cored, seeded and minced.
1 strip crispy Bacon, crumbled
1/2 teaspoon ground Coriander
Sea Salt & ground Pepper to taste

If using dry beans, soak overnight per directions, drain and rinse. If you used canned beans, pour them into a sieve and rinse until the water runs clear. Use whatever variety you like best, it really doesn’t matter.

Heat stock to rolling boil over medium-high heat, reduce to low as soon as it gets there.

Throw everybody into the pot and cook low and slow, covered, for at least an hour, and more is better. If things start to get a bit thick, add more stock to desired consistency. We like the jus to coat a spoon, like a thin soup.

These two complimenting anything Tex Mex will be a guaranteed thing of beauty!

Salute!

Tapenade


This morning, I woke up Jonesing for Tapenade. If, gods forbid, you’re unfamiliar, it’s a classic Provençal dish made with olives, capers, anchovies and olive oil, chopped finely or blended together into a paste.

It’s not only incredibly delicious, it’s silly easy to make and it stores well; this naturally invites one to make a couple varieties and keep them handy when you need a nosh. Just varying the olive in question is a tasty adventure in and of itself.

The now closed Orchard Street Brewery here in Bellingham used to offer a creamy variation with Kalamata olives that I was crazy about, so I’ve recreated that version here; it’s a bit milder on the garlic and anchovy front, as well as having the creamy aspect, so it may well be more palatable to those who think they’ll hate tapenade… I’ve included what I’d comfortably call a classic style for y’all to try as well.

Classic Tapenade

1 Cup pitted black Provençal Olives, pitted
1/4 Cup extra virgin Olive Oil
2 canned, oil-packed Anchovy Fillets
2-3 cloves Garlic
1 Tablespoon Capers
Juice of 1/2 fresh Lemon
1/4 teaspoon fresh Lemon Zest
1/2 teaspoon dried Thyme
A couple twists of fresh ground black Pepper

Creamy Kalamata Tapenade

1 Cup Crème Fraîche
1/2 Cup Kalamata Olives, pitted
1 Tablespoon Capers
1 clove Garlic
Juice 1/2 Lemon
1/2 teaspoon Lemon Zest
1/2 teaspoon Thyme
1/2 teaspoon Anchovy Paste
Couple twists of fresh ground Pepper
Note: you may sub Crèma or sour cream for the Crème Fraîche

For either variation, throw everybody into your robot coup, (AKA, the Quisinart, AKA a food processor). Pulse sparingly until all the ingredients are evenly blended, like a nice, fine dice.

Place in a covered glass bowl and refrigerate for at least 2 hours before serving, and 4 is better.

Serve Tapenade on fresh baguette slices or with little crudités, (AKA nice raw veggies like celery, carrot, radish, peppers, etc)

If you wanna look very fancy schmancy with little effort, grab some puff pastry or phyllo dough when you hit the grocery.

If you do the puff pastry version, spread a thin layer over a sheet to within a 1/2″ of the edge, then roll two edges up toward the middle. Toss that back into your freezer for about 15 minutes, then pull it back out and with a sharp knife, slice the roll into roughly 1/4″ thick slices. Pop those into a preheated 375 F oven for 10 minutes or until golden brown. They look and taste wonderful and are a breeze to make.

If you go the phyllo route, use 4 or 5 sheets, spread a little tapenade in the middles, wet the edge with a little melted butter and fold them into little triangles. 375 F for about 8 – 10 minutes or golden brown will do the trick.

Vas-y!

Persillade


Here’s another common scenario I’ll bet you’ll cop to. There you are in the produce section, and you stop for cilantro. Right next to that is the parsley. You glance at that and then head for the onions…

I mean, what does anybody actually use parsley for, right? Answer: Persillade. Think of it as a variation on pesto, which in fact, it is. There really isn’t “one right way” to make this stuff, so experiment and make yourself and your crew happy.

Build a batch of this and try it on roast chicken, or potatoes, steak, fish, an omelette, pasta; get the idea? Cool, let’s build it.

Handful of fresh Parsley, about a half cup loose packed
2-4 Tablespoons Extra Virgin Olive Oil
2 cloves Garlic
1 small bulb Shallot
Juice of 1/2 to 1 Lemon
Pinch of Sea Salt

Rough chop the parsley, garlic and shallot. Throw them into your food processor or blender.

Pulse sparingly a few times until you’ve got a nice, even mix.

Now turn the machine on and add a steady, thin stream of olive oil while the processor runs until you have a consistency you like.

Transfer the sauce into a glass bowl, then add fresh lemon juice and salt to taste.

Allow the flavor to marry for at least 1/2 hour prior to serving.

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You can store Persillade in the fridge for a day or two, or freeze it if you want some long-term. This is an excellent sauce to do up in ice cube trays and freeze; just pop a cube out when you want a bit for something fun.

Enjoy!

One Hour Minestrone


OK, so a good few of y’all have asked for the zero-to-minestrone in an hour recipe, so here goes.

There is much leeway in this wonderful soup. You can make it with meat or vegetarian. You can add whatever veggies are in house with confidence. In other words, there are few rules. That said, what I’ll propose as the single non-negotiable point is this: the base stock should be veggie and include white beans, (AKA Great Northerns). As I’ve said numerous times here, try it this way first and then go forth as you see fit thereafter…

So, let’s say that like me the other night, you got a hankering for soup, it’s 5 pm, you have no stock on hand and nothing prepped. Ready?

Open and lightly rinse a can of white beans. Pour them into a sauce pan and add,
2 Cups hot water
1 small Shallot, minced
1 Bay Leaf
Sprig of Parsley, minced
1/2 teaspoon Italian Oregano
Shake Sea Salt
Twist of ground Pepper

Get that up to a simmer and reduce heat so it barely perks along.

Preheat oven to 400 F.

Choose 1 medium sweet onion, then choose carrot and celery for size so that you get roughly 50% onion and 25% each celery and carrot, then rough chop. Toss those on a sheet pan, drizzle with olive oil and shove them in the oven for 15 minutes.

Set a stock pot over high heat with 10 cups of hot water and bring to a boil.

When the veggie timer goes off, pull them out of the oven and throw them into the boiling water. Allow them to boil freely for 15 minutes, then strain or scoop all the veggies out and toss ’em in your compost. Toss the bean pan contents into the stock pot and there’s your speed stock.

Dice 2 or 3 potatoes and a carrot, then throw them in the microwave for a minute or two until just fork tender; add them to the pot. If there are any other root veggies you have or like, do the same with those.

In a sauté pan over medium high heat, toss 1/2 diced sweet onion and a stalk or two of celery until they start to soften and sweat; throw those into the pot. If you have the leaves and tiny shoots on your celery,so much the better, just use that.

Begin scavenging the fridge and shelves. I found fresh frozen corn, peas and green beans as well as canned tomatoes we’d preserved earlier in the year and threw a handful of each into the mix. If you’ve got leftover pasta or rice in the fridge, in it goes; this is how and why minestrone has been made for many moons, capiche?

Now you can make this a broth soup or you can make it stewier if you like. If thickening appeals to you, the simplest way is to just purée some of the soup and add it back; that’ll give you slight thickening and will honor the flavor you’ve chosen exactly, of course. If you want thicker still, use a slice or two of day old bread, or a scoop of some of that rice or pasta you found in the fridge, or even leftover mashed potatoes. Take that chosen thickener, toss it in your blender or processor, add two or three ladles of soup and let ‘er rip, then return that to your stock pot and viola.

Adjust seasoning with salt and pepper to taste, then allow your minestrone to simmer for 15 minutes or so. Take that time to use your preheated oven and make some quick corn bread, or rub slices of baguette with a split clove of garlic and a brush of butter.

Serve hot and bask in your ingenuity.

Enjoy!