I published this one back a few years, and hadn’t made it since – I did tonight, with some glorious tri tip and chicken, charro black beans, seasoned rice, and fresh corn tortillas from my fave carniceria, (the one where they speak Spanish, period, and if you’re a gringo, you’d best have your patos en linea. My family went nuts of the meal, and declared it superior to any restaurant in our area, and you know what? They’re right – try it, make it yours, and see if you don’t agree.
Last night was roast chicken, so today was chicken stock, and tonight will be chicken chili – and that absolutely demands cracklin bread. For the uninitiated, that’s cornbread with cracklins therein. Cracklins are nothing more than fatty pig skin put to a far better use than football. Of course, the subject isn’t quite that simple – if it were, it wouldn’t be nearly as much fun, or as tasty. If we’re going to make cracklin bread, we’ve gotta know our cracklins.
Cracklin bread
Here in the states, pork rinds have always been a thing, at least in the south. Worldwide, they’re everywhere. In Mexic0, South and Central America, and Spain, they’re chicharones. Up in Canada, they might be scrunchions or orielles de Christ. In China, they’re Zhīzhā, in Thailand, it’s khaep mu. In the Slavic countries, they’re škvarky, tepertő in Hungary, and jumări in Romania. They’re integral to the traditional Czech dish, bramborové knedlíky se škvarkama a kyselým zelím – potato dumplings with cracklings and sauerkraut. In merry old England, they’re scratchings.
Khaep Mu from Thailand
You needn’t be a Fergus Henderson fan to know that it’s still very much waste not want not when it comes to hoof to snout consumption of our piggy pals. The names and dishes detailed above aren’t oddities, they’re mainstream eats, all made possible by pork skin. If you think that’s icky, think again the next time you’re swooning over crisp turkey or chicken skin, or bacon for that matter.
Pork rinds come to us through lard production, as well as general slaughter and processing. In the south, the venerable cast iron wash pot was and is used to render down lard. Leftover scraps and skin went in there as well, and crunchy bits of that would rise to the surface, to be skimmed off, lightly salted, and served as a snack – and they’re friggin’ seriously good, by the way.
There are, of course, less than inspired versions of this age old treat out there, and if you’ve ever had them, I’m sorry – a lot of what gets called cracklins and sold in stores is closer in consistency and taste to packing material than pork.
Fortunately, there are plenty of places to get good stuff, and probably one or more near you – go to your local carniceria or Latin market and you should be good to go. If you’re blessed with a local butcher, ask if they do cracklins – if they make leaf lard, they well might.
There are variations on the theme – The basic version of a rind is just skin – no fat at all. Into hot fat they go, and you get the Cheeto-like puffy thing. A genuine cracklin has some fat and maybe little flecks of meat still attached – something with some flavor and very satisfying bacony crunch.
I get mine from 4505 Meats – they have a luscious fat layer, a nice crunch, a little sea salt, and nothing else. The donor pigs are humanely raised, with no added hormones or antibiotics. You can find them online.
Making cracklin bread is no more involved than adding them to your favorite cornbread recipe. If you favor a dense, super moist version of this wonderful stuff, just add a packed cup of good quality cracklins to my latest and greatest, and you’re good to go. If, in reading that piece, the purist hot water version appeals, here’s the drill for that – You can bake or fry, as you prefer.
Hot water cracklin bread
Urban’s Hot Water Cracklin Bread
4 Cups coarse ground Cornmeal
2 Cups Cracklins
2 teaspoons Sea Salt
Bring 3 cups of fresh water to a full boil.
In a large mixing bowl, combine cornmeal and salt.
Carefully pour boiling water over the dry mixture, whisking steadily until you have a heavy batter consistency.
Let the batter sit, allowing the meal to fully absorb the water, and the mixture to cool enough to handle.
You want a consistency that will allow you to hand form cakes about 3” to 4” round and about 3/4” thick.
To Bake –
Preheat oven to 400° F, and set a rack in the middle slot.
Generously butter a heavy baking sheet, and place cakes evenly on the sheet, with an inch between each.
Bake for 15-20 minutes until golden brown, and a toothpick stuck in the middle of a cake comes away clean.
Serve hot with lots and lots of butter.
To Fry –
In a cast iron skillet over medium high heat, heat oil, using an instant read thermometer to monitor temperature – you want right about 375° F.
Once your fat is up to temp, add generous soup spoons of batter – You can get 3 or 4 in a 12” skillet without crowding.
If you like things thin and crispy, use the back of the spoon to tamp down each dollop a bit, otherwise, let it ride for a softer middle.
These will cook quite quickly – about 1 to 2 minutes per side – when you’ve got a nice golden brown, it’s time to flip.
Transfer cooked cornbread to a paper towel lined wire rack to cool a bit.
As soon as you can grab them without burning yourself, devour with abandon.
When you think ‘Bisque,’ what does that conjure in your minds eye? These days, it might be anything in a thick, rich creamy soup, and that’s sort of correct, but if we’re talking the genuine article, bisque is made with shellfish – lobster, crab, shrimp or crawfish. The key is starting with a great stock – If you don’t have that as the base of the dish, you ain’t got real bisque – It’s that simple.
That said, many things are called bisque these days, but really, that’s just done to sell stuff – Bisque sounds infinitely sexier than Cream of Whatever, doesn’t it? Fact is, the only thing I found on our site was Butternut Squash Bisque, so I’m guilty as charged. It’s high time we posted up the real deal.
This thick, rustic soup goes back at least 500 years in France. Back when, it was peasant food that included crushed seafood shells, but not the meat. Bisque languished for a while before returning to the spotlight as a somewhat more refined dish in the late seventeenth century, (shells were still used to make the stock, but not crushed and left in, as they had been).
In any event, bisque may seem fussy and difficult, but it’s really not. If you’ve poked around here at all, you know we always start a soup or stew with homemade stock, and so should you. From absolute scratch, this stuff can be made in a couple of hours, and faster yet if you do stock one day and bisque the next.The other must-haves are a solid foundation made with aromatic bases, and thickening done with a buerre manié, (more on the latter technique in a bit.)
Buerre manié may be a new trick to some of y’all. If you’ve ever wondered how professionals make such lovely, thick, shiny soups, stews, and sauces, this is how it’s done. Buerre manié is a classic French technique for thickening – it couldn’t be easier, and there’s no better way to get the job done. Buerre manié means kneaded butter, and that’s exactly what you do. Equal portions of butter and flour are combined by hand to form a smooth, uniform paste. Once mixed, you roll up roughly teaspoon sized balls of the stuff and add one at a time to whatever you need thickened, thoroughly whisking that into the mix, et viola – la perfection!
Shrimp Bisque a la Urban
For the Stock
2 Quarts Water
Shells from 1 1/2 pounds of medium sized shrimp.
1/2 Cup yellow Onion, chopped
1/2 Cup Celery (Leaves are preferred), chopped
1/2 Cup Carrot, chopped
1/2 fresh Lemon
3 cloves fresh Garlic, crushed, skinned, and minced
5-6 whole peppercorns
2 Bay Leaves, (I like Turkish)
Two 3” sprigs fresh Thyme, or 1 teaspoon dried
1 Tablespoon Extra Virgin Olive Oil
Fresh ground pepper
Pinch fine grind Salt
Shell, devein, and chop shrimp. Return shrimp to fridge and retain shells.
In a stock pot over medium high heat, add the olive oil and heat through.
Add carrot and sauté for a couple of minutes.
Add onion and celery, season lightly with salt and pepper, and sauté until the onion begins to turn translucent, about 2-3 minutes.
Add garlic and sauté until the raw garlic smell dissipates.
Squeeze lemon juice into the pot, then toss the half lemon in as well.
Add the shrimp shells, water, peppercorns, thyme, and bay leaves – Stir to incorporate.
Bring stock to a boil, then reduce heat to just maintain a simmer – Cook for one hour, uncovered.
Remove pot from heat and carefully pour stock through a single mesh strainer. Set stock aside, and discard the solids.
For the Bisque
4 Cups Shrimp Stock
1/4 Cup Heavy Cream
1/4 Cup Brandy
2 Tablespoons Onion, fine diced
1 Tablespoon Carrot, fine diced
1 Tablespoon Celery, fine diced
2 Tablespoons unsalted Butter
2 Tablespoons All Purpose Flour
2 Tablespoons Tomato Paste
2 teaspoons Extra Virgin Olive Oil
1/2 teaspoon Turkish Oregano
1/2 Teaspoon Lemon Thyme
1/2 teaspoon Tarragon
2 Turkish Bay Leaves
2-4 shakes Tabasco
A few sprigs fresh Parsley, chopped fine
Salt
Fresh ground White Pepper
Reserve and set aside 8-10 whole shrimp. The rest should be shelled, deveined, and chopped.
Pull butter from fridge and set aside.
If you have fresh herbs, you can combine and mince them ahead of cooking.
In a Dutch oven over medium high heat, add olive oil and heat through.
Add carrot and sauté for a couple of minutes.
Add onion and celery, season lightly with salt and pepper, and sauté until the onion begins to turn translucent, about 2-3 minutes.
Add brandy and stir until raw booze smell dissipates.
Add tomato paste, and all herbs – Stir to incorporate and sauté for 2 minutes.
Add stock, bring to a boil, then reduce heat to maintain a bare simmer and cook for 60 minutes.
Carefully process bisque with an immersion blender, until you have a smooth, even consistency.
Add a couple shakes of Tabasco, taste, and adjust salt and pepper as desired.
In a small mixing bowl or cup, combine flour and butter and knead by hand until you’ve got a nice, uniform paste.
Add beurre manié a teaspoon at a time, whisking it into the bisque – Once that’s all introduced, simmer for another 5 minutes.
Whisking constantly, slowly add cream in a thin stream.
Increase temperature to medium, (you want a rolling boil).
Add the shrimp and cook for another 15 minutes.
Ladle into bowls, garnish with a couple whole shrimp and a pinch of parsley.
Serve hot, with crusty bread and a nice dry white wine or cider.
It’s a sure bet that, if you eat enough Mexican, Tex Mex, Caribbean, or South American food, you’ve enjoyed some form of carne asada. Certainly then, you’ve swooned over the rich and pungent blends of flavors presented by something that looks so simple, but tastes so complex. The answer lies in Mojo, the marinade that made carne asada famous.
The literal translation of the South American name for the dish is roasted meat, which tells us right away that the cooking side of things isn’t complex. All that magic comes from the mojo, and fortunately for us, it’s not only easy to make, it’s downright a gas.
Carne asada de UrbanMonique
Before we dive fully into Mojo, let’s spend a few looking at the history of carne asada – It’s as old as fire and cooking vessels, really. No one can lay claim to originating the dish, (although that hasn’t stopped many from trying). In addition to straight asada, there are popular variants that have much to do with how the meat is handled for service – Shredded or ground, as opposed to cooked whole and sliced, for instance.
Shredded or pulled beef is found in American barbecue, ropa vieja in the Caribbean, and carne deshebrada in Mexico. The versions most Americans are accustomed to stem from northern Mexican cuisines, although there are popular southern variants as well.
Mojo de UrbanMonique, a great all purpose marinade
Specific cuts of beef are commonly associated with carne asada, and they’re not exactly the rock stars. These include skirt, flank, and flap steak, the stuff the folks doing the boogie up on the hill certainly did not buy for themselves. That stuff was considered refuse, and the genesis of great meals formed around such marginal cuts is another example of the disenfranchised making due. Yet here in the 21st century, popularity has turned all that on its head – Some of these lesser cuts have reached the big time cost-wise.
The moral of the story is to be flexible – When we spied eye of the round cut thin as steaks for $5 a pound, it was game over, and ‘authenticity’ be hanged – It’ll all eat just fine – Boneless chuck, the bargain basement of beef cuts, makes perfectly wonderful carne asada.
Now, on to that mojo. If you have a carniceria nearby, you can bet they offer carne asada, either in whole steaks, sliced, or chopped. You’ll likely find it either preperada, (marinated) or not, and if you get their marinade, what you’ll get can run the gamut from simple salt and oil, to quite complex mixes that rival a mole – The marinade is where the real poetic license lives with carne asada. What you create is up to you, (and we’ll provide plenty of options herein to get ya started.)
As common and as diverse as spaghetti sauce, there are dozens of popular, commercial mojo variants, let alone the tens of thousands rendered by home cooks everywhere. The Spanish word Mojo derives from the Portuguese, Molho, which simply means sauce – a clear indicator of its ubiquity.
There is general agreement that mojo originated in the Canary Islands, the archipelago off the northwest coast of Africa. Canarian cuisine is a fascinating amalgamation of the native islanders, (sadly, now largely extinct), Spanish, Portuguese, and African roots. Their cooking emphasizes freshness, simplicity, and powerful flavors, many of which derive from various mojos. Literally every Canarian family has at least two signature mojos, passed down from generation to generation.
The signature island dish, Papas Arrugadas, (wrinkly potatoes), is demonstrative of all that. Whole potatoes boiled in salt water, and served with red and green mojo – And in an interesting twist of serendipity, the potato isn’t native to the Canaries – They came from South America, of course.
Canarian Mojo with Papas Arrugadas
In its simplest form, mojo contains olive oil, chiles (pimienta in the Canaries), garlic, paprika, coriander (either fresh or seed), and cumin. As mentioned, there are two primary branches of Canarian mojo, red and green. The red, fueled by dried or fresh chiles and paprika, is most often paired with meat, while the green, made with green peppers, cilantro, or parsley, compliments fish courses.
There are many other iterations, some using local cheese, (mojo con queso), garlic, almonds, and fresh herbs – Check out that almond Mojo recipe and you’ll see what I mean about rivaling moles. One could easily spent a happy year working through all these lovely things, and one of these days, I just might.
The flow of humanity in the 16th through 19th centuries, both forced and chosen, brought mojo to Europe, then South America, the Caribbean, and eventually, North America. Mojo not only thrived, it grew in leaps and bounds. Were I forced to define a generic, accurate version that we here in the Estados Unidos are familiar with, it would certainly include chiles, citrus, garlic, oil, and vinegar – A Mexican vinaigrette, in essence.
Established Mexican, Caribbean, and South American variants also run the gamut from super simple to dizzyingly complex. What this means to the home cook is that in all honestly, you can’t go wrong – Combine stuff you love and that plays well together, and you’re in like Flynn. I’m going to offer several variants, including fairly faithful renderings of styles you’ve probably tried and liked – As I always note, use these as a springboard for personal creativity, and know that you’ll likely never do the exact same thing twice.
The real beauty of Mojo is as a last minute inspirational meal – You’ve got this, that, and the other thing in your stores, so what do you do with them? You do this.
The basics for a Mexican style mojo
NOTE ON WHAT TO MAKE: Tacos, burritos, chimis, or taco salads, with fresh pick de gallo and warm tortillas, are almost a must for your first meal if you’re marinating proteins, but keep in mind, this stuff has North African and Iberian roots, so get bold and go that direction if you feel so inspired. And you can always sauté the meat with something new, change the spicing, and make something totally different.
Carne Asada Hash, the perfect next morning leftover
NOTE ON MARINATING: Any marinade containing citrus, other acids like Vinegar, or other fruits like papaya, kiwi, pineapple, fig, or mango will break down the connective tissues in proteins as they marinate – There’s an enzyme called protease, (papain in papaya), that does the trick. That’s great for tenderizing tougher cuts, and it’s the secret as to why marginal stuff like skirt stake or flank steak can come out so tender. That said, be careful with the duration – There are a lot of recipes out there that advise marinating overnight, and that’s taking things too far – Going over 6 hours risks mushy meat, and nobody likes that texture. Marinate proteins for at least an hour, and as long as 4 or 5, and you’ll get great flavor infusion and a proper degree of tenderization.
Tacos Carne Asada
NOTE ON GRILLING: Anything you marinate in Mojo will taste best grilled. And if you can, do so with wood or charcoal, although gas works just fine too. With the thinner cuts or proteins commonly used for carne asada, you’ve got to keep an eye on things – We’re talking a 2 minute punk rock song per side, as opposed to the common, classic rock 3-4 minutes a side measure. A lot of restaurants grill carne asada to well done, but you do not need to do that. Grill to medium rare, then allow a good 5 to 10 minute rest before you carve. If you use the more rustic cuts of beef, like skirt, flank, or flap steaks, carve 90° to the grain, at a 45° angle for each slice.
NOTE ON OIL: You’ll see I call for Avocado Oil on several Mojo recipes. I like it for it’s rich, buttery feel and neutral taste, as well as its exceptional smoke point. You can certainly use Extra Virgin Olive Oil in any of these recipes, but you really owe it to yourself to try avocado oil in the near future.
First, the classic Mojo roots.
Canarian Green Mojo
1 Bundle fresh Cilantro
3/4 Cup Extra Virgin Olive Oil
1 fresh Lime
3 cloves Garlic
1 teaspoon Sea Salt
1/2 teaspoon Cumin
1/2 teaspoon Black Pepper
Rinse and dry all produce.
Remove long stems from Cilantro, discard and mince the leaves.
Peel and stem garlic, and mince.
Juice lime, and set aside.
If you’re using whole spices, add salt, pepper, and cumin to a spice grinder and pulse to an even consistency, (3 or 4 pulses should do it.)
Combine all ingredients in a non-reactive bowl and mix thoroughly. You can leave the sauce rustic, or process it with a stick blender for a smoother consistency.
Allow sauce to marry for 30 minutes prior to use. Serve with fresh crusty bread, potatoes, fish, or veggies.
Canarian Red Mojo
1 large Red Sweet Pepper
2-4 fresh hot chiles, (chef’s choice, they don’t have to be red – Jalapeño, Habanero, Serrano, and Cayenne all work)
3 cloves fresh Garlic
2-3 Tablespoons Extra Virgin Olive Oil
1 Tablespoon Cider Vinegar
1 teaspoon Sea Salt
1/2 teaspoon Cumin
Rinse all produce and pat dry.
Stem, seed, and devein the Pepper and chiles, (leave veins in chiles if you want more heat.)
Fine dice Pepper and chiles.
Mince Garlic.
Process Cumin to a powder if you’re using whole.
Combine all ingredients in a non-reactive bowl and mix thoroughly. You can leave the sauce rustic, or process it with a stick blender for a smoother consistency.
Allow sauce to marry for 30 minutes prior to use. Serve with fresh crusty bread, chicken, pork, or beef.
UrbanMonique Signature Mojo – This is a great all purpose Mojo, with a couple of our signature twists.
Prep for making mojo is simple and quick
2 small Limes
1 navel Orange
1-3 Jalapeño Chiles
1/2 bunch fresh Cilantro
1/2 Cup Avocado Oil
2 Tablespoons Live Cider Vinegar
Pinch of Sea Salt
3-4 twists fresh ground Pepper
Rinse and pat dry all produce.
Zest and juice the citrus, and reserve both.
Peel, stem, and mince the garlic.
Stem, de-seed, and devein the jalapeños, (leave the veins if you like more heat).
Remove long stems from Cilantro and mince the remainder.
Combine all ingredients in a non-reactive bowl and mix thoroughly. You can leave the sauce rustic, or process it with a stick blender for a smoother consistency.
Makes a fantastic marinade for chicken, pork, or beef. Also does great with tofu, veggies, or fish.
And finally, here are a few Mexican and South American variants.
Quick Cervesa Mojo – Great for folks that don’t like heat.
1 bottle Negra Modelo Beer
1 small lime
1 bunch Green Onions
3 cloves fresh Garlic
Pinch of Sea Salt
A few twists fresh ground Pepper
Open beer and pour into a bowl, allowing it to loose its fizz and flatten somewhat, (About 5-10 minutes)
Zest and juice lime, set both aside.
Peel, stem and mince garlic
Trim and peel green onions, then leave them whole, as trimmed.
Combine all ingredients in a non-reactive bowl and mix thoroughly. Leave the sauce rustic, do not process it.
Allow sauce to marry for 30 minutes prior to use. Makes a fantastic marinade for chicken, pork, or beef. Marinate proteins for an hour, then remove the steaks and the onions and grill both as desired. Goes great with the rest of the Negra Modelo six pack.
Taco Truck Mojo – There is no standard recipe, but this will put you in the running…
2 small Limes
2-4 hot Chiles of your choice
3 cloves fresh Garlic
1/2 Cup Avocado Oil
1 Tablespoon dark Soy Sauce
2 teaspoons Smoked Sweet Paprika
1 teaspoon Sea Salt
1/2 teaspoon Cumin
1/2 teaspoon Oregano
1/4 teaspoon Black Pepper
1/4 teaspoon White Pepper
Rinse and pat dry produce.
Zest and juice Limes, set both aside.
Stem, seed, and devein chiles, (leave veins in if you want the heat). Fine dice chiles.
Peel and stem Garlic, then mince.
Process spices to a consistent rough powder if you’re using whole.
Combine all ingredients in a non-reactive bowl. Process with a stick blender to a smooth, even consistency.
Makes a fantastic marinade for chicken, pork, or beef. Marinate proteins for at least an hour, and as many as 5 hours. Grill proteins as desired, and baste with the marinate as you’re grilling.
Garlic Papaya Mojo
1 fresh Papaya
1 small Green Bell Pepper
3-4 Green Onions
1 small fresh Lime
3 cloves Fresh Garlic
1 Tablespoon Avocado Oil
1 Tablespoon live Cider Vinegar
1/2 teaspoon Lemon Thyme
Pinch of Sea Salt
A couple twists fresh ground Pepper
Peel, seed and rough chop papaya.
Zest and juice Limes.
Stem, seed and devein green pepper, then dice.
Peel, stem green onions, then cut into 1/4″ thick rounds.
Peel, stem, and mince garlic.
Combine all ingredients in a non-reactive bowl. Process with a stick blender to a smooth, even consistency.
Makes a fantastic marinade for chicken, pork, or beef. Marinate proteins for at least an hour, and as many as 3 hours – don’t exceed that too much, as the papain enzyme in papaya is formidable stuff. Grill proteins as desired, and baste with the marinate as you’re grilling.
When you hear the term ‘pan sauce,’ what do you think of? You do think of something, right? Hell, gravy is a pan sauce, albeit on the heavier end of things – Something lighter than that but still plenty potent is the epitome of this genre, and a must have for your cooking arsenal – They’re easy, fast, and they elevate your cooking game appreciably – I’d argue that employing these well is a trait that separates good cooks from OK ones.
Pan sauces are created from the liquid and the little nasty bits generated by searing or roasting meat or fowl, and that’s why such a simple thing tastes so wonderful. These sauces are traditionally put back on the stuff they’re made from, but if you don’t try them on potatoes or veggies now and again, you’re missing a big treat. Spectacular pan sauces can also be generated from roasting fish, potatoes, and vegetables, so never throw that stuff away.
Pan sauces lend themselves perfectly to meat and poultry for a couple of excellent reasons – First, they add a bit more moisture and pizazz to roasted proteins, and secondly, they can and should easily be prepared during the time those proteins are resting, subsequent to cooking and prior to carving.
In essence, these are emulsions, formed by combining two or more liquids that usually don’t stay together well – AKA fat and acid. Juices from what you’ve roasted, along with the fond, (that’s the hip chef name for the naughty bits left on the pan), provide the core fat component. An acid is added, most often in the form of wine. Then comes seasoning, a little more fat, and a little aromatic base. Everything gets whisked together, et viola. With minimal prep, a pan sauce can easily be put together in the time it takes your steaks or chops to rest.
As for what you should use, it’s really a ‘what have I got’ question. Fresh herbs of any kind pretty much always get the nod. Whatever red or white wine you’ve got on hand will do fine. Onion, shallot, and garlic are all good, as are capers and olives. Used sparingly, dried herbs and blends are fine – just keep in mind that they won’t have enough time to get much past their dried stated in a sauce made this quickly. Citrus makes a dandy minor note.
Get your mis en place together before you start the sauce – that’s key to keeping things simple and fast. On the flip side, don’t leave a pan sauce sitting for very long after it’s done – This is a temperature fused emulsion, and it will separate as it cools – so get it on the plate ASAP to avoid the uglies. You do warm your plates for service, right?
If you try a sauce from potatoes and/or veggies, keep in mind that there’s no fat, so add that accordingly – another couple tablespoons of oil and/or butter will do the trick.
Varying pieces of the puzzle will reward you with whole new flavor profiles – different wine and citrus, maybe a couple drops of Worcestershire or Maggi instead of fish sauce, different herbs or aromatics, mustard, horseradish, sweet minor notes from honey or agave – the sky is the limit, and again, the best way to experiment with this is to search your fridge and pantry and use what needs to be used.
Here’s my fave general purpose sauce to get you started. Branch out from there, and make ‘em yours.
Urban’s Go To Pan Sauce
The good stuff left over in the roasting pan
1/2 Cup Stock (veggie, Poultry, whatever you’ve got)
2 Tablespoons minced Shallot
1/4 small fresh Lemon
3 Tablespoons Ghi (Unsalted butter is fine)
Spring or two fresh Herbs, (Thyme, Oregano, Sage leaves, Rosemary are all great – a light hand of dry is OK if that’s all you’ve got)
3-4 drops good quality Fish Sauce, (Red Boat is my go to)
Pinch of kosher salt
3-4 twists fresh ground pepper.
Pull whatever you roasted from the oven and the pan and transfer to a platter to rest, somewhere warm and loosely covered with metal foil.
Carefully pour off most of the fat from the roasting pan, leaving a couple of tablespoons.
Place the roasting pan on a burner over medium heat, (it’s already hot, so it doesn’t need a bunch of help in that regard – And handle the hot pan carefully!)
Toss in the shower, and sauté until it becomes translucent, about one minute.
Add the wine, and using a fork to scrape up all available naughty bits, and get all of that stuff loose.
Cook until the raw alcohol smell dissipates, about 1-2 minutes.
Squeeze in the lemon juice and whisk to incorporate.
Add the ghi or butter a bit at a time, and whisk steadily to incorporate.
Add the fish sauce and herbs and continue to whisk.
Turn burner heat off, add salt and pepper and adjust as needed.
Slice your protein, sauce, devour, and accept raving accolades from your diners.
Summer is here, and with it comes the glory of fresh berries. Strawberries are in full swing, blueberries too. Blackberries are flowering, raspberries are coming on fast. When they’re done, apples and grapes and pears will arrive. It’s time, then, for a paean to the galette, not only the easiest, but arguably the most delicious vehicle for all that bounty. And as fate would have it, galettes are stupid simple to make.
Galette is an old northern French word, specifically Breton, and while it literally means wafer, it’s come to mean a flat cake or pastry for a long time now – Since the 1300s or so. The Breton version, (one of the oldest), is a buckwheat crepe filled with Emmental cheese, ham, and a fried egg, and it’s freakin’ delicious. Nowadays, both sweet and savory galettes are gaining popularity, which is wonderful news – Given the bounty of garden season, it’s the perfect time to look into these little beasties.
Galettes are still expressed as crepes in France, but elsewhere they’re more often goodies wrapped in a pastry crust of some kind. Therein lies the key to the beauty and simplicity of the thing – Stupid simple, as I noted above – All we’re doing here is plopping a bunch of good things in the middle of a sheet of dough, and then folding the edges up so that everything stays put. It looks great, it works, it’s delicious, and you can easily create one as a last minute afterthought – What more could a cook ask for? A galette can be anything from a couple of ingredients to a complex dance of flavors, so they’re not only versatile, they’re great for cleaning out pantry and fridge. Damn near anything goes well baked into a good crust, from berries and stone fruit to cheeses and root veggies.
Alright, so let’s address the stupid simple concept – My real baker friends are gonna cringe at this one, so – sorry, but… Fact is, I keep store bought pie crust, puff pastry, and filo in house at all times. Why? First and foremost, because they’re not all bad – Check labels, and you’ll find plenty of options that are clean. Consumer concern over artificial ingredients has hit this market, and there are plenty of products out there made with good stuff, and they taste pretty good too. Is this option your first choice? Depends – if you’re short on time and want to build something quickly and simply, it may be. If you have a little time and prefer scratch made, (and you always should if you have a little time), then maybe not. Options equal flexibility, and that’s always good. If my Sister, a seriously good cook and cookbook author, has the same in her kitchen, then I’m 100% comfortable with this option. For the record, one of the galette images you see here is store bought dough, and one isn’t – Can you pick out which is which?
On the other hand, making a pie crust from scratch will take about an hour for most of us, and at least half of that is resting time – It’s not a lot of work, ingredients, or trouble, and you’ll get wonderful results. I’ll offer my two favorite variants on method and ingredients, one made with butter and one with lard.
Simple as they are, there’s a few thing to keep in mind when building galettes. Neither your dough nor your filling should be wet. As such, what you use needs to be moist enough to end up tender and flaky, but not too much so, lest it end up a sodden mess. If your dough looks and feels a bit crumbly when you’re rolling it out, that’s fine – Much better that than dough sticking to the pin. Thickness is important too – a galette should be on the thin side of things, but not too thin – 1/8” is just right, so go for that and you’ll be a happy camper. Just keep in mind that 1/8” isn’t very thick in the big picture view, and don’t allow your galette to get overdone – golden brown is what you’re after – not well done toast.
Likewise, your fillings simply cannot be soupy, or even close – If they are, than any caution you applied to your doughs consistency will be for naught. The arrowroot (or cornstarch if that’s what you’ve got) in the recipes will help with this to a good degree nonetheless, avoid overripe, mushy fruit or veggies. If your fruit is lovely, but just bursting with juice, dust the top of your crust with a thin, additional layer of Wondra flour – It’s great stuff for sucking up excess juice. And keep an eye on the ratio of filling to crust – What you’ve got inside can’t be so voluminous that it wants to sneak out over your crust folds. Ratios are considered in the recipes, but every batch of this and that is different, so be vigilant.
Alright, so crust first. Here are the two options I really like and really use.
Vodka Pie Crust – This is brilliant really. The substitution of alcohol for water isn’t there to be sexy, it’s done because the vodka adds moisture to the dough – when it’s baked, booze evaporates faster than water, which leads to a tender, flaky crust pretty much every time. The booze is all cooked off, FYI, so there’s no proof to your galette. You can use other alcohols if you do want a subtle flavor note – Bourbon, rum, gin, and tequila all are great options.
Vodka Butter Pie Crust
2 1/2 Cups Pastry flour
8 Ounces Unsalted Butter (2 sticks)
1/4 Cup Ice Cold Vodka
1/4 Cup Ice Cold Water
1 teaspoon Salt
Pre-measure vodka and water (together, of course), and let them chill in the freezer for about 15 – 20 minutes prior to processing.
Cut butter into roughly 1/4” cubes, then shove the cut butter into the freezer with your vodka and water to chill again.
Sift flour and salt into a large mixing bowl.
Toss the butter cubes into the flour mix and work quickly and smoothly by hand, reducing each chunk of butter to roughly pea size, making sure they’re all well coated with flour.
Add half the water and vodka to the dry mix and blend it in by hand.
Add half the remaining vodka and water and work that into the dough.
Now grab a golf ball size hunk of dough and give it a good squish. If it’s not holding together well, add a couple of tablespoons more vodka and water and work that in, then give it another test.
Remember, you don’t want galette dough too wet, so lean a bit to the dry side. One thing I can tell you from years working in a bakery is that dough is different every day – This is why I like working it by hand.
Once you’ve got a dough that’s holding together well but isn’t sticky, divide it into two equal balls, wrap it in parchment or waxed paper, and let it rest in the fridge for at least 30 minutes.
When the rest is done, pull out a dough ball and set it between sheets of waxed paper or parchment. Squish the dough down to a flattish disk about 6” across.
Roll the dough out to close to an even 1/8”.
Send the dough back to the fridge for another 30 minutes.
When you’re ready to go, transfer the dough to a baking sheet lined with parchment and load up your galette.
Your other dough ball can be stored in the fridge for 2 or 3 days. Any longer than that and you should freeze it, wrapped tightly into parchment or waxed paper, and then a layer of metal foil – It’ll be good for 3-4 weeks done up like that.
Some folks swear by lard, and I’m one of them. There is a distinct caveat here though, and that’s that we’re talking about really good lard – Not the block of shit that comes from most grocery stores – A hydrogenated abomination that tastes like… well never mind. What you want is fresh leaf lard, and with the resurgence of butcher shops and carnicerias throughout the land, it can indeed be had. Check around you, see if you have such a place, call them and see if they make and sell leaf lard. If you have that, you’ve got gold. You can also use shortening for this version if you wish – Some folks like that too.
Lard or Shortening Pie Crust
2 1/2 Cups Pastry flour
1 Cup Leaf Lard
5+ Tablespoons Water
1 teaspoon Salt
Cut lard into roughly 1/4” cubes and then chill it, along with your water.
Sift flour and salt in to a large mixing bowl.
Toss the lard cubes into the flour mix and work quickly and smoothly by hand, reducing each chunk of butter to roughly one size and making sure they’re all well coated with flour.
When you’re there, add 4 tablespoons of ice cold water and blend it in.
Now grab a golf ball size hunk of dough and give it a good squish. If it’s not holding together well, add another tablespoon of water and work that in, then give it another test. Keep that going until you hit a consistency that holds together well and isn’t sticky.
Remember, you don’t want galette dough too wet, so lean a bit to the dry side. One thing I can tell you from years working in a bakery is that dough is different every day – This is why I like working it by hand.
Divide your dough into two equal balls, wrap it in parchment or waxed paper, and let it rest in the fridge for at least 30 minutes.
When the rest is done, pull out a dough ball and set it between sheets of waxed paper or parchment. Squish the dough down to a flattish disk about 6” across.
Roll the dough out to close as you can to an even 1/8”.
Send the dough back to the fridge for another 30 minutes.
When you’re ready to go, transfer the dough to a baking sheet lined with parchment and load up your galette.
Your other dough ball can be stored in the fridge for 2 or 3 days. Any longer than that and you should freeze it, wrapped tightly into parchment or waxed paper, and then a layer of metal foil – It’ll be good for 3-4 weeks done up like that.
Berry Galette
I’ve found this recipe to work with damn near any berry – Blueberries, raspberries, strawberries, blackberries, Marion – They all do really nicely with this blend and ratios.
1 Pound fresh Berries
1/4 Cup local Honey (or Agave nectar)
2 Tablespoons Arrowroot
1 small Lemon
1/2 Teaspoon Vanilla Purée (or good quality extract)
1 Egg
1 Tablespoon Turbinado Sugar
1 Tablespoon Unsalted Butter
Pinch Salt
Zest lemon and squeeze 1 tablespoon of juice.
In a non-reactive mixing bowl, combine berries, honey, lemon juice, arrowroot, vanilla, and salt, mix gently but well to fully incorporate.
Crack your egg into a small bowl, add a tablespoon of cold water and whisk to mix thoroughly. You’ll need a pastry brush to apply this, or finger tips if you don’t have one.
Roll a crust out to about 1/8” thickness per above directions. You want a circle about 8” to 9” across.
Lay the rolled dough out on a baking sheet lined with parchment.
Spoon the berry mixture onto the middle of the dough, no more than an inch or so thick, leaving 1 1/2” to 2” of dough clear around the edges.
Grab a dough edge and fold it up over the filling a bit. Move left or right as you please and grab another edge of dough. You’re going to fold that slightly over the last one – Dab a little egg wash into that fold to help things stick.
Keep going in this manner – Fold a little dough edge up, stick it to its neighbor, and move on. You’ll end up with a galette roughly 6” to 7” around.
Brush the egg was onto all the exposed dough, then sprinkle the turbinado sugar on the dough.
Cut butter into roughly 1/8” dots and sprinkle those over the exposed berries.
Sprinkle the lemon zest over the berries.
Bake on a middle rack, at 375° F for 25 to 35 minutes, until the galette dough is golden brown and the fruit is bubbling nicely.
Remove from oven and allow to cool enough to handle.
Devour.
Here’s a fave savory version for you to try as well. Filling and baking process is the same as for sweet galettes.
Roasted Potato & Cheddar Galette
2 Medium Yellow Potatoes
1/2 Cup Extra Sharp Cheddar Cheese
2 large Eggs
3-4 sprigs fresh Cilantro
2 Tablespoons Avocado Oil
1 teaspoon Lemon Thyme
1 teaspoon granulated Garlic
1 teaspoon granulated Onion
1 Tablespoon Unsalted Butter
Salt
Fresh ground Pepper
Set a rack to a middle position and preheat oven to 375° F.
Pour a little oil on a paper towel and lightly grease a baking pan.
Cut potatoes into roughly 1/4” thick disks.
Toss the potato rounds into a large mixing bowl, then add the oil, garlic, onion, and a couple pinches of salt, with a few twists of pepper. Toss everything by hand to get the potato rounds well coated with oil and seasoning.
Arrange potato rounds on the baking sheet in a single layer.
Bake potatoes until they’re almost fork tender, (kinda al dente) – About 12 to 15 minutes.
Chifonade cut cilantro.
Remove spuds from the oven and sprinkle them with the lemon thyme, then let them cool enough to handle.
Crack the eggs into a small bowl and whisk to scramble.
Grate cheddar.
Line a baking pan with parchment.
Roll out a roughly 8” to 9” circle of pie dough (see above for recipes), and transfer to the parchment lined baking pan.
Brush egg wash onto the exposed side of the dough.
Add a layer of spud disks to the dough, leaving 1 1/2” to 2” of dough bare.
Brush the spuds generously with the egg wash.
Add a layer of grated cheese, and about half the cilantro.
Add remaining spuds and cheese and cilantro in a second layer.
Brush egg was onto the second layer.
Grab a dough edge and fold it up over the filling a bit. Move left or right as you please and grab another edge of dough. You’re going to fold that slightly over the last one – Dab a little egg wash into that fold to help things stick.
Keep going in this manner – Fold a little dough edge up, stick it to its neighbor, and move on. You’ll end up with a galette roughly 6” to 7” around.
Brush the egg wash onto all the exposed dough.
Bake until the dough is golden brown and the filling is bubbling nicely, about 15 – 20 minutes.
Remove from oven and allow to cool enough to handle.
If it were me, I’d throw an over easy egg on top of my slice…
UrbanMonique 