Basics & Process – Page 15

Herb and Spice Use 101

Adding herbs and spices,
A ‘Duh’ cooking moment?

Well, yes and no…
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(And yes, that’s really our cabinet…)

First off, disclaimer, this is a quick overview in response to a question from a reader, not The Big Picture view, K?

The first and most important answer to the question is this: Herbs and spices and herbs should be used to compliment the flavors of great food, not overwhelm them. In other words, all things in moderation, eh?

With that in mind, do think of salt and pepper as spices. They impact the flavor of foods and should not be left out of your thought process when deciding what to add, if for no other reason than not to add too much or too many. You can almost always say yes to salt, to some degree. Just a little shake or two of salt will wake up natural flavors and help others blend. Likewise, pepper adds a pleasant bottom note, a base to a flavor profile if you will, that’s more often worth it than not.

So, what else, if anything, do you need? The answer is again, moderation, most of the time. If you’re not making black mole, you don’t need 20 different spices and herbs. If you’re unsure what you need, but confident you do need some thing, try 2 and 3 component combinations that will enhance the flavor of the dish you’re building. It may be as simple as salt, pepper and lemon, or salt, pepper and garlic, or maybe garlic, lime and dill. Be selective, add a bit, allow the flavors to marry, then taste and see where you’re at.

Take for example, something simple like chili – what could and should go into your signature taste for that dish? We braise our meat in beer, add a dash of salt, onion, a little garlic and fresh cilantro to the base tomato flavor, and then use our house made chili powder, and that’s it.

The chile powder looks like this:
3 Tablespoons ground Chiles of your choice
1 teaspoon ground Cumin
1 teaspoon ground Mexican Oregano
½ teaspoon smoked Paprika
½ teaspoon ground Garlic

There’s a great example of a wealth of complex flavor fueled mostly by the food, enhanced with just a few choice herbs and spices.

The next question that gets asked a lot is when to add herbs and spices. There’s no one answer to this question; it depends on what you’re cooking and adding. Here are some general rules of thumb.
1. You can add herbs anywhere in the cooking process. In general, if you want the flavor note of the herb to stand out more, add it toward the end, and I f you want the flavor note blended with the dish more thoroughly, add it at the start.
2. Ground spices and dried herbs release flavors quite quickly; they can and will peak and diminish if added too soon. For instance, in that chili we’re making up there, we add the chili powder when there’s about an hour left to go in the process; that lets the flavors infuse, but also keeps them brighter than they would be if they were in there for hours on end.
3. Whole spices release flavor more slowly than ground or leaf form. This is why we toss Bay leaves, whole pepper corns, Juniper and stuff like that in when we’re making stock; they can and should do their thing through the whole process to maximize the flavor notes they add to the mix. Try tying these kinds of herbs and spices into a sachet of cheesecloth; that’ll make them really easy to fish out when their work is done.
4. When making uncooked foods like salads, salsas, and dressings, add spices and herbs an hour or two or three before serving; that’ll allow flavors to marry properly. For salad dressings, add the spices to the vinegar and let that sit for half an hour before adding the oil.
5. For marinades, try briefly and gently heating the seasoned liquid and then allowing it to cool completely; that’ll help release the flavor notes from the spices.

And then there’s the ‘How Much to Add’ question.
It’s real hard to form a viable general rule for the correct amount of spices and herbs to use, ’cause the strength of each differs widely, as does their effect on different foods.
I think it is a sound rule of thumb to say that, the stronger the herb or spice, the more sparingly you should employ it. For example, it doesn’t take a whole lot of Rosemary to go from herbed to overwhelmed, so go easy with those bad boys.
Keeping in mind that recipes are often written to the lowest common denominator, you may want to get a feel for altering them effectively, and more to the point, you probably want to get comfortable building your own ideas for scratch, right?
If you need a starting point and just don’t have a comfortable reference, try this:
Use 1/2 teaspoon per pound of meat or pint of sauce or soup.
For strong herbs and spices and hot chiles, start with 1/4 teaspoon and adjust as you see fit.
It’s always easier to add than take away…

BTW, don’t shake herbs and spices from the jar into what you’re cooking; you’re asking for a disaster when the whole thing cuts loose and falls in, and besides that, rising moisture can ding the potency of the herb or spice. Crush leafy herbs in your hand and then add them to your dish.

Finally, store your stuff in airtight jars, away from strong light, heat and moisture, and if you don’t use it inside of year, reevaluate if you need it, and consider getting some fresh stuff, too!

Vas-y!

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.

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!

Grapefruit Pico de Gallo

OK, well I mentioned this salsa in a Facebook post and now a few of y’all have asked for the recipe. It’s super simple, and here ya go. If you don’t make your own fresh salsa as a routine, it’s time to start – Here’s another place where it’s a serious night and day difference from store bought.

Pico de Gallo is a fresh salsa, and such, it’s quick to make. With pico, you want the sweet notes of tomato, onion, and cilantro to mesh with the chile heat, and nothing furthers that combination better than citrus. This is a great salsa to make shortly before meal time, but it’ll be twice as good then next day. This recipe will make enough to last for two or three meals, most likely.

4 medium Tomatoes
2-4 Jalapeño Chiles
1 large pink Grapefruit
1 Lime
1 sweet Onion
Handful go fresh Cilantro
Sea Salt

I do this in a mini food processor powered by a stick blender, but you can certainly do it by hand. Size of dice is up to you; we like it fine, minced in fact, because it spreads and blends better.

Process tomatoes and toss into a non-reactive mixing bowl. Process onion, then cilantro and add to the tomatoes.

Feel free to sub a chile you like better for jalapeño down the line, but try this first. If you like it hot, don’t field strip your chiles; if you’re cooking for a broad spectrum of diners, be kind and do strip ’em. Process with the cilantro and add to the mix; cilantro is also a personal taste note, so use more or less as you see fit.

Cut grapefruit in quarters and the lime in half. Squeeze the grapefruit by hand over the bowl and absolutely do let some of the crushed fruit go in there too. Squeeze lime next, take care to keep seeds out of the mix.

Give all a good stir, taste and season with a shake of salt as you see fit; it’ll brighten up the mix and bring flavor out, so don’t skip it.

Allow ingredients to marry in the bowl for an hour prior to serving. The salsa will last a good few days refrigerated.

For a wonderful alternative, try roasting or grilling everybody, including the fruit; it brings out a very subtle note of smoke and heightens the sweet tones nicely.

Smoked salt is another neat alternative that you might try as sub for regular sea salt.

Enjoy!

Makin’ Bacon

Love bacon? Love good bacon? Seen the prices lately? Us too! That little revelation led us to home made, courtesy of Michael Ruhlman’s blog.

I started our odyssey with a search for pork belly locally, which wasn’t as easy to find as I thought it’d be. Eventually, we found roughly 15 pound packs at Cash and Carry for $3.15 a pound. We took that home, divided it into 2 1/2 pound batches, and went to town.

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Our first batch was made straight from Ruhlman’s recipe. It turned out great, but it wasn’t exactly what I want in my perfect bacon. Having no doubt that experimentation is almost always a good thing, we analyzed the results and decided that Ruhlman’s would be, for us, perfect lunch and dinner bacon, but not breakfast. We found Michael’s recipe a touch salty, even when we’d carefully weighed the pork belly and salt; further, we felt that while the bay leaf, nutmeg, garlic and thyme in that recipe added glorious floral notes perfect for lardons, and stellar for carbonara, it was a bit much for our breakfast palate, so we set out to build our perfect breakfast bacon.

While one needs to stick pretty closely to the 1.5:1 salt to curing salt ratio for proper bacon, you have relative freedom with the other ingredients, so we revamped with our chosen notes, less salt, more sugar, Grains of Paradise for that unique pepper note we love, brown mustard seed for the tang, and a little smoke.

The results were spot on, and we’re happy campers!

2.5 pounds Pork Belly
1/4 Cup Dark Brown Sugar or real Maple Syrup
1 Ounces Flaked Salt
1.5 teaspoons Pink Curing Salt, (Sodium Nitrite)
2 Tablespoons Grains of Paradise, coarsely ground
2 teaspoons Brown Mustard seed, coarsely
1 teaspoon Smoke Powder

Mix all dry rub ingredients except the smoke powder together in a bowl.

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Set your belly on a baking dish or sheet tray.

Rub the cure onto and well into all surfaces of the belly. Take your time and work it right in there evenly and completely.

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Place your belly into 1 a gallon Ziplock bag, press the excess air out, and set it in the back of your fridge for 3 days.

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On day 4, pull out your belly and rub everything back into the flesh again. Set ‘er back into the fridge for another 3 days.

And on the 7th day, there be bacon…

Pull your belly outta the bag, rinse your sink well and then stick the belly under nice, cold running water and rinse all the cure off, giving it a good rub as you do.

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Preheat oven to 200 F.

Pat your belly dry with paper towels and set into a glass baking dish or a sheet pan.

Rub the smoke powder evenly and thoroughly into your belly.

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Roast for 90 minutes, or until your internal temp reaches 150 F.

Remove from oven, allow to cool, and then repackage in a ziplock in the fridge. It’ll last as long as store bought, or maybe a bit less, since it has less bullshit stuff in it; anyway, I’d bet that after you try it, lasting long won’t be an issue…

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You can freeze bacon, but not for more than about a month. If you do freeze it, you’ll want all the air you can out of the bag so, again, vacuum sealing is best.

You can also sub Honey or Agave Nectar for the sugar and get some pretty nice flavor variations. Our family also likes peppered bacon, and for that we’ll layer on a bit of olive oil and ground, black pepper for the roast.

Big thanks to Michael Ruhlman for a wonderful charcuterie book, and for encouraging experimentation. Now it’s your turn, and make sure you try his recipe, because it rocks and it just might be your all-around fave!

Enjoy!

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