Burp! Where Food Happens

Hyped Up Shepherd's Pie with Mushrooms and Greens

peefandlo@sbcglobal.net (Lo) — Tue, 09 Feb 2010 03:13:00 +0000

I haven't a single fond childhood memory of shepherd's pie.

It's not that my mother made BAD shepherd's pie. Or even mediocre shepherd's pie. The truth is, my mother never made shepherd's pie... or cottage pie... or even cowboy pie. And I followed in her footsteps. Until sometime this fall.

I was inspired by the turnips at the farmer's market. They were gorgeous things -- all pretty and white, with the most perfect greens attached. I simply had to take them home with me, despite the fact that I had absolutely no idea what I'd do with them. Fortunately for me, it was the weekend. So, I had plenty of time to sit and wait for inspiration to hit.

Turns out it didn't take long. I ran across a post written by Peter from Kolofagas about Shepherd's Pie. He made that darned pie look so incredible, I could have just about eaten it right off the page. And right then and there, I knew what we were having for dinner.

At this point, you're probably starting to wonder what in the world this has to do with my turnips... but, trust me, they were part of my vision. When it came to the turnips themselves, it's possible I envisioned them roasting alongside a well-seasoned, pastured chicken. They'd caramelize in all that lovely schmaltz and become the best thing since mashed potatoes. But, the greens... why not create a shepherd's pie with some serious nutritional punch by throwing them into the mix?

And so, off to the kitchen we went. Chopped up plenty of vegetables -- onion, carrots, celery, garlic, and shiitake mushrooms. Oh, yes, and we can't forget about those gorgeous turnip greens.

I sauteed the shiitake mushrooms in a bit of butter. When they were done, I set them aside and gave the vegetables a bit of the same treatment. When theys were just starting to soften, I added about a pound of local ground lamb, browning that up nicely. I threw in a dash of worchestershire sauce, and I added a couple of teaspoons of fresh chopped rosemary and thyme leaves.

Once the herbs were incorporated and I could smell them letting off their fragrant oils, I added a bit of flour to make a roux. Stirred in about 1/2 cup of zinfandel, allowing the alcohol to dissipate, and then poured in about 1 1/2 cups of mushroom stock and tossed in a couple of bay leaves.

While the sauce was simmering, I whipped together my mashed potatoes and set them aside.
By then, the sauce had thickened up nicely and the flavors had really started to meld. I could tell simply by how everything smelled... but I took a quick taste just in case I needed to adjust the seasonings.

Determining that everything was just the way I wanted it, I added what a veg-head like myself would likely consider to be the Pièce de résistance -- those stunning turnip greens. I should mention that any tender greens would work well here -- swiss chard, mustard greens, or spinach would all do nicely. I left them in the stew just long enough for them to wilt (4-5 minutes, tops), stirred in the reserved mushrooms, and then I took everything off of the heat.

I poured it all into a large baking dish, spreading things out evenly.

And then I topped the whole mess with mashed potatoes. I did go through the effort of fluffing the potatoes up a little bit with a fork before sprinkling on a liberal dose of paprika... and that went a ways in making things look a bit more appetizing. But, I didn't go through quite the effort Peter did. He piped his potatoes on top of the pie so very beautifully, while I just slopped mine on, right out of the pan. Some of you may judge me for this. But, I can assure you, the finished product (while it might have been lacking in the looks department) tasted just fine.

In fact, once everything has baked together for about 45 minutes, and the kitchen starts filling up with the aroma of the lamb, the veggies, and the intoxicating scent of the rosemary and thyme, you'll forget all about the fact that your potatoes aren't all that pretty.

The torture comes when you take the casserole out of the oven. Despite the overwhelming impulse to scoop right in and start devouring your humble feast, it's really a much better idea to allow the casserole to rest for 15-20 minutes before serving. It will be painful, but I assure you, you'll be glad you waited.

After a good rest, you can scoop that delicious mess into bowls.

And yeah, you can even garnish your bowl with a nice sprig of fresh rosemary. It's a lovely touch -- but, like so many niceties, it's not necessary. In fact, the final product would be just as delicious eaten right out of the pan with a big fork. But, that doesn't make for a very good photo op. Does it?

The reality is, if you're looking for good old-fashioned comfort food, shepherd's pie is where it's at. If you're looking for a kicked up version with a bit of serious vegetable action -- this recipe does a pretty good job of delivering. And hey, if you decide to make it on one of those cold winter's nights... invite me over for a bite. It would be difficult to refuse.

Hyped Up Shepherd's Pie with Mushrooms and Greens

©BURP! Where Food Happens

The Power of Soup

peefandlo@sbcglobal.net (Lo) — Wed, 03 Feb 2010 04:31:00 +0000

We hosted our first "soup night" in December, 2007. At the time, we were looking for a way to create more community among our family, friends, and neighbors -- to unify some of the disparate groups that make up our circle of acquaintances. And we thought a casual Sunday evening affair would accomplish our goal nicely.

Soup night wouldn't be a complicated matter. In fact, the concept was beyond easy. One Sunday evening a month, we'd make up a few pots of soup. We'd invite just about everyone we knew, and guests would show up at will. Nobody was required to RSVP, guests were welcome, and the only rule was "no worries". People could bring something to pass (bread, crackers, dessert)... or not. Strangers would meet and mingle. And we could all enjoy a casual night of nourishment and conversation.

We hosted four soup nights that year. And they were an absolute blast. We had a great time, and we vowed to hold soup nights for years to come. Unfortunately, in fall of 2008, Peef lost his job. Afraid (amid other things) that we'd have to start asking the guests to bring the soup, we put a hold on the festivities. After a year's break, we both wondered if we'd have the nerve to start things up again.

2009 came and went. The economy tanked. Despite dismal odds, Peef acquired gainful employment. We watched as friends and neighbors alike pulled in the reigns on their spending. Ultimately, we found that we saw some of our friends even less often than in the years before. The timing seemed perfect for bringing back soup night. So, we sent out a few invites and got to work on our soup.

We hosted our first soup night of 2010 this past Sunday. And gosh, it was like coming home. The regulars came back with a vengeance -- colleagues from Peef's old workplace, friends we haven't seen in weeks (and even months), family we don't get together with nearly often enough. And we had a few amazing new-comers this year. We were privileged to meet fellow food blogger (and "common soul"), Rebecca, from CakeWalk. She brought her friend Sasa, another local foodie; and we had a great time chatting about food like old friends. Bryan, who we met through his work with Jen Ehr Farm, brought his wife, Mrs. Jen Peters, and their son, Oliver, who happens to be the same age as my niece, Reagan. The adults talked, and the kids became fast friends -- playing with Elmo the cat, unlocking hidden treasure, and bringing plenty of boundless 2-year-old energy to the party.

Seems so strange to give the food a back seat to everything else. But, in this case, it's more than appropriate. The three soups -- a Cuban inspired black bean, a southwestern corn chowder (with poblanos and applewood smoked corn), and a pork and black-eyed pea chili -- were warm and delicious. The corn chowder was the clear favorite, disappearing well before the last of the guests even arrived. And we got a request or two for the "Cowboy Chili" recipe. But... eh...

Despite its name, soup night is really far more about the company than the soup. It's about that feeling you get when you're surrounded by the people who really count. When all the turmoil outside doesn't seem to matter so much inside. And those times when life is... well... just plain good.

I know it's simple. But, I can't help from thinking... maybe all the world REALLY needs is another soup night.

©BURP! Where Food Happens

Perfect Bliss: Malted Milk Ice Cream

peefandlo@sbcglobal.net (Lo) — Sun, 31 Jan 2010 05:13:00 +0000

I'm afraid I ought to warn you. This is probably NOT the place to be if you're serious about that new year's resolution to lose that last ten pounds. I could wax apologetic for you, but it wouldn't be genuine. Cuz I believe with every last ounce of my soul that this ice cream is worth the couple more ~~hours~~ minutes on the elliptical that you'll have to spend sweating it off.

And, in the spirit of full disclosure, I must confess to you that I, Lo, am an absolute FIEND for malted milk powder. I grew up sprinkling the stuff right on my vanilla ice cream. Drinking it mixed into my milk. Heck, I've even eaten it straight from the jar (yeah, it's powdery, but so ~~is cocaine~~ are pixie stix) It's true. I'll settle for a chocolate shake. But, make it a malt (double thick) and I'll be yours forever.

But, even so -- when I sent Peef out to find malted milk balls so that we could make this recipe (yes, I'm working diligently on another blog post entitled "Why My Husband Rocks" -- but that will have to wait, I'm talking about ice cream here), I had ABSOLUTELY no idea that a single ice cream recipe would have such a profound impact on me.

Because I'm not normally a "sweets" person. I'm a "salty" sortofa gal. My junk food fantasies consist of things like salt & vinegar potato chips, Flamin' Hot Fritos, and loaves of buttery garlic bread.

I'm also a big veg-head. But, trust me, right now the vegetable kingdom is virtually dead to me. I could care less about kale. Broccoli. Beets. Brussels sprouts.

Honestly, I may eat nothing else for the remainder of the week.

And you don't have to take our word for it. It also gets Michael Ruhlman's stamp of approval. And Amateur Gourmet, Adam Roberts, even wrote a SONG about it.

Malted Milk Ice Cream
Adapted slightly from: The Perfect Scoop (David Lebovitz)

1 cup (250 ml) whole milk
2/3 cup (150 g) sugar
2 cups (500 ml) heavy cream
1/4 teaspoon vanilla extract
2/3 cup (90 g) malt powder
6 large egg yolks
2 cups (350 g) malted milk balls, coarsely chopped

Warm the half-and-half with the sugar in a medium saucepan. In a large bowl, whisk together the heavy cream, vanilla, and malt powder. Set a mesh strainer on top.
In a separate bowl, whisk together the egg yolks. Slowly pour the warm mixture into the egg yolks, whisking constantly, then scrape the warmed egg yolks back into the saucepan.

Stir the mixture constantly over medium heat with a wooden or heatproof plastic spatula, scraping the bottom as you stir, until the mixture thickens and coats the spatula. Pour the custard through the strainer and whisk it into the malted milk mixture. Stir until cool over an ice bath (or out in the snow, which is what we did here in Wisconsin in January)

Chill mixture thoroughly in the refrigerator, then freeze in your ice cream maker according to the manufacturer’s instructions. As you remove the ice cream from the machine, fold in the chopped malted milk balls.

©BURP! Where Food Happens

Superbowl Food: Almost GF Buffalo Chicken Spicy Mac

peefandlo@sbcglobal.net (Lo) — Mon, 25 Jan 2010 23:23:00 +0000

I frequently drool over the food featured by Tina & Mike over at Choosy Beggars. But, their last pub night, featuring Buffalo Wing Macaroni & Cheese, took both Peef and me over the edge, giving us a serious mac & cheese craving. So, we decided to try the recipe out for ourselves.

Of course, we can't follow instructions like normal people. So, the recipe we ended up with, while it remotely resembles the original, has been... well, let's just say interpreted. For one thing, this mac & cheese dish is now gluten free. Neither of us suffer from a gluten allergy, but we like to change it up a bit when it comes to the grains/flours we eat. On this particular occasion, we happened to have some Vita-Spelt macaroni on hand. Vita-Spelt is a favorite of ours -- not only because the spelt elbows are virtually indistinguishable from wheaty macaroni -- but also because it's made in Michigan, so it's a regional product (which we always like).

We chose to poach our chicken breasts (2 of them), cube them up, and toss them with hot sauce while they were still steaming hot. I've successfully used this technique before with baked chicken wings. The theory is that the "pores" of the hot chicken are open and receptive to the hot sauce. The pieces soak up all the flavors while you're busy doing other things.

Meanwhile, we chopped up our vegetables -- onions, carrots, garlic, and celery. We chopped the onions and carrots into a small dice, and minced the garlic. However, we left the celery sliced in larger pieces so they'd stand out in the dish.

Then, we gathered together our spices. This was another area where we took some liberties. In addition to the prerequisite cayenne pepper, we decided cumin might add some nice flavor. And we also threw in a teaspoon of smoked sweet paprika, figuring that a little bit of smoke wouldn't hurt. We mixed the spices with the (gluten free) flour that we planned to use to make our roux.

We put a pot of water on to boil for the pasta, and we prepared to sauté our veggies. We chose to tackle the sautéing in stages -- first the onions, then the carrots, and finally the garlic and celery. The goal here was to completely cook the onion, get the carrots to a crisp-tender state, and cook the celery just slightly (so that it would still retain some crunch). Cuz I'll be honest, chicken wings just wouldn't be chicken wings without the crunch of that celery.

When the pasta was finished cooking, we rinsed it with cool water to halt the cooking process, and tossed it into a bowl with the veggies.

Then, we moved along, melted some butter, and made a roux with the flour & spices. I'm a big fan of cooking spices in oil to bring out their flavors -- so this was just one more opportunity to allow everything to come together in a big way. When the butter, flour, and spices had bubbled away eagerly for a few minutes, we added the milk to make our bechemel.

Once the bechemel finished cooking, we stirred in the cheeses. We chose a Wisconsin made buffalo monterey jack cheese (for good, cheesy flavor and a bit of kick), some Neufchatel (for creaminess), and some Sartori Reserve Dolcina® Gorgonzola (for that bleu cheese flavor we love with our buffalo wings). At this point, we tasted for seasonings, added a smidge of salt, and mixed everything together.

Then we poured the whole mess into a large greased baking dish.

After sprinkling some bread crumbs (from a piece of forgotten ciabbata) over the top, we realized that our gluten-free macaroni & cheese was no longer gluten-free... oops! You can tell we don't do this every day. Fortunately for us, this dish would be just fine with a bit of parmesan sprinkled over the top instead of the bread crumbs. In fact, it might even be better.

After about 30 minutes, the bread crumbs weren't QUITE toasty, but the cheese around the edges was all bubbly and wonderful looking. So, we declared it done!

Is it mac & cheese? or a fantastic superbowl dip? This pasta dish brings the best of many worlds crashing together in a wonderful way.

The kick from the cayenne and buffalo sauce was definitely evident, but not overwhelming. The celery was pleasantly crisp, and the sauce was ultra creamy, thanks to the addition of that Neufchatel. Alright, alright. So, it's definitely not health food. But, it's some seriously good football food. And I'd venture a guess it would more than satisfy anyone's cravings for a nice big bowl of buffalo wings.

"It's like a pasta version of that buffalo chicken dip that we used to make," Peef declared after scarfing down his bowl of leftovers.

I sipped my IPA and smiled. Cuz there's really nothing better than being warm and satisfied on a cold, rainy January evening. And it's even better when the husband agrees.

Gluten Free Buffalo Chicken Spicy Mac

©BURP! Where Food Happens

More Winter Grilling: Lamb Pitas with Cucumber, Feta, and Mint Yogurt Sauce

peefandlo@sbcglobal.net (Lo) — Fri, 22 Jan 2010 20:35:00 +0000

You know that little hole-in-the-wall Greek place on the corner that serves the fantastic gyros? The one with the great fried eggplant, the killer cucumber sauce, and the really long line at the counter? Yeah -- those gyros. The ones that are just a little too salty, a bit too greasy, but somehow positively perfect on one of those nights when you don't feel like cooking?

Yeah, well, these aren't those gyros.
However, I'm going to urge you to keep on reading. These lamb pitas take a little bit of fore-thought. And definitely require more effort than take-out. But, they're well worth it. In fact, if you're the sort who loves a good gyro (but who would prefer to avoid all the salt and nastiness that are included with the ones from the gyro stand), I'd encourage you to make these sandwiches. At least once. It's so easy you don't even need a recipe.

You do need a few basics -- a pound or two of fresh local lamb (we usually go for the meat from the leg) sliced into strips, a few sprigs of fresh mint, some fresh oregano, a bit of lemon juice, salt, and a nice flavorful olive oil. Mix the lemon juice, salt, and olive oil together. Then chop the herbs.

Spread the herbs over the strips of lamb, turning them to distribute the herbs evenly. Then, pour the lemon juice mixture over the top. Allow the meat to marinate for at least 2 hours. The trick with marinating the strips is to go long enough that the meat is seriously imbued with flavor -- but not so long that you're going to severely alter the meat's texture (lemon juice can be harsh that way). So, you probably don't need an all-night marinade here... but definitely give the lamb a bit of time to linger in the seasonings.
While the meat is marinating, you'll want to thinly slice a small red onion and sprinkle it with a bit of red wine vinegar. The vinegar takes a bit of the pungency out of the onions while imparting them with a nice vibrant kick. When you're done, these onions make a great addition to salads, sammiches, and the like (if you're me, you might even decide to eat them straight out of the bowl).

After you marinate your onions, you might also want to throw together a bit of yogurt sauce for your lamb pitas. Take a cup of greek-style yogurt (or regular whole milk yogurt that's been drained for a couple of hours through a coffee filter), add about 2 T red wine vinegar, 3 T chopped mint, and about 1/2 tsp of salt. Stir to combine. Then, go ahead and slice some cucumber.

You can also crumble some feta cheese. And, if it weren't the middle of January here in Wisconsin, you can be sure I'd suggest you slice up a few garden fresh tomatoes as well. But, honestly people, winter tomatoes scare me. So, we're not even going there.

Before you know it, it will be time to deal with the lamb again. Take the lamb strips and weave them onto skewers. Set them aside on a baking sheet until you've got your grill nice and preheated.

Then, place them on a hot grill -- preferably on an outdoor charcoal grill. Although you can place your kebabs under the broiler, or brown them up on a grill pan inside, I really love firing up a nice hot outdoor grill on a cold winter afternoon. The air temperature might be frigid, but the smell of that grill reminds me of warmer days -- and it tends to give my mood a bit of a boost.

Regardless of the method, direct heat is best here, since the thinly sliced lamb will cook quickly. You want the outside to sear nicely, while the inside remains tender. Aim for medium rare on the kebabs, since they'll cook a bit more even after you take them off the grill.

If there are two of you, one of you can grill while the other throws together a delicious salad -- romaine lettuce, some of those chopped cucumbers and marinated red onions, a few kalamata olives, and a bit of red wine vinaigrette with plenty of garlic and oregano. Top everything off with a few crumbles of feta cheese, just for good measure.

When the lamb is cooked and the salad is assembled, you can start putting together your gyros. Peef likes his loaded up with lamb, cucumbers, onions, tzatziki, and feta cheese... but you can make yours however you like. Any way you look at it, your sandwich will rival anything you can get at that greasy little gyro joint...

.. and no matter how you load up your sammich, you're bound to be saving some serious fast-food calories at the same time.

And who can really argue with that?

©BURP! Where Food Happens

Weekend Indulgences: Linguini Fini alla Carbonara

peefandlo@sbcglobal.net (Lo) — Wed, 20 Jan 2010 13:47:00 +0000

It's that perfectly fudgey slice of flourless chocolate cake. The sip of hand-harvested whole leaf Lapsang souchong. An impeccably roasted beet. The very first warm, sun-ripened tomato picked off the vine in your backyard.

Sometimes one ingredient is all it takes. Your tongue tingles. Your toes curl. The foodie within swoons (and forever swears off winter tomatoes). And so it was with the locally produced Guanciale that we found at the market a few weekends ago.

If you would have told me a few years ago that we'd be able to get locally produced dry cured Italian meats right here in Milwaukee, I probably wouldn't have believed you. Sure, there are a couple of respectable Italian delis in the city, but certainly nothing even remotely resembling Salumi -- that delectable Seattle icon that served to set the bar pretty darned high for Italian charcuterie.

Needless to say, I was pleasantly surprised to find that Milwaukee has its very own dry cured charcuterie producer. Bolzano Meats, located at 3950 N. Holton St., began their first batch of cured meats in September of 2009 -- and the first of their meat was ready for public consumption beginning in late October. Bolzano carries Speck Proscuitto, Berkshire Pancetta, and Berkshire Guanciale. And, while they don't have a storefront, they do sell their wares online as well as at the Milwaukee Winter Market -- which is where we tasted our first bits of Guanciale. And, of course, we had to buy some to take home with us.

Guanciale is a very special Italian bacon made from the cheeks/jowls, rather than the belly, of the pig. Its flavor is rich and meaty (porky, if you will). Its texture is quite delicate. And, although it seems to maintain a family resemblance, it's absolutely NOTHING like pancetta.

Since we had the "real thing" in our possession, we took Mario Batali's lead on this one and went with a traditional carbonara. And I'm glad that we did. The ingredients are simple and few: a bit of Guanciale, a couple of fresh eggs, some grated Parmigiano Reggiano, and a generous amount of black pepper. But, the results are spectacular -- creamy, rich, and filled with an incredible amount of flavor.

Of course, by now you're probably getting hungry. And I'm just sitting here yammering on. So, let's get to the point, shall we?

We were basking in the glow of a long weekend -- so, although carbonara is a relatively fast dish to get on the table, we took the long way around. The first thing we did was to whip up some homemade pasta. You might remember that we have a handy KitchenAid pasta roller/cutter, so the actual work of making pasta is really negligible. It just takes a bit of time. So, we whipped up a batch of dough, rolled it paper thin, and sliced it into gorgeously petite linguini fini. Not exactly spaghetti -- which would be traditional -- but very fun to say. Since we also seem prone to rule-breaking (as you'll soon see), we let this one small technicality slide. We put a pot of water on to boil.

Our pasta troubles out of the way, we cubed the Guanciale and then rendered it over low heat until it was browned and crispy. Some might say that we took the browning bit a little too far (the idea is simply to render the fat and cook the Guanciale until golden). But, trust me on this one. It didn't hurt the dish one bit. And, in fact, those crusty bits were just perfect even when sampled directly from the pan. While the meat was browning, Peef grated up plenty of Parmigiano Reggiano, and I whipped up a couple of farm fresh eggs in a small bowl.

Once the Guanciale was ready, we added a couple of cloves of minced garlic to the mix (not necessarily traditional, but definitely Italian -- and certainly delicious), sauteeing just until tender. Then, we deglazed the pan with a whorl of dry white wine (also a bit of a departure from every recipe I've ever seen -- but it served to effectively deglaze the pan and cut the richness of the Guanciale a bit).

At this point, we were ready for the action to begin. We placed the pasta into the pot of boiling water, seasoned our eggs with plenty of black pepper, and stirred in a liberal handful of parmesan cheese. When the pasta was ready, we drained it (reserving some of the pasta water), and added it to the hot pan of Guanciale, which was now swimming in a delicious pond of wine soaked browned bits. We tossed the pasta, removed it from the heat, and added the eggs and a scoop of the hot pasta water, stirring gently yet thoroughly until everything was deliciously creamy.

We slurked our pasta feast into warm bowls. Peef rested his head just above his bowl and wafted the amazing aroma into his nostrils. I closed my eyes and took a bite. The creamy porky goodness infiltrated my mouth.

Sparks flew.
The planets realigned.

I opened my eyes. Peef was standing next to me, mid-bite, with his eyes closed. I could hear a vaguely rough groan emanating from his lips. When his eyes opened again, a grin spread across his face -- the sort of grin that only something truly fabulous could evoke.

We both took another bite. And then another. We grinned, and chewed, and swallowed. And, all at once, our bowls were empty. Mission accomplished.

Fresh semolina pasta dough
Pasta alla Carbonara: The Real Deal

©BURP! Where Food Happens

In Memoriam: Artichoke a la Mode Pizza

peefandlo@sbcglobal.net (Lo) — Tue, 19 Jan 2010 23:14:00 +0000

When I awoke (literally) this morning to the news that one of our favorite pizza joints (and a Milwaukee icon) was ablaze, I was in shock.

Pizza Man has always been our "go to" restaurant. It was one of the places we chose to mark any number of celebratory occasions (birthdays, anniversaries, job offers). It was the place where we'd go when life had taken us for a ride, and left us yearning for familiarity and the comfort of an old friend. (how many tear-filled sessions I've had, drowning my sorrows in deep dish pizza, I may never know). It was also one of our favorite spots to dine with friends and family.

Seems there was NO occasion that didn't suit the Pizza Man. And we weren't the only ones to think so. There was always a wait. I can't count the number of times we found ourselves standing around waiting for a table (though, in most cases, we simply left the friendly hostess our cell number and grabbed a beer or two over at the Eastsider, a neighborhood bar just across Oakland Avenue). And that fact alone should be seen as a testament to the quality of both the food and the atmosphere -- which included an old wooden door (which opened and closed thanks to the power of pulleys and weights), darkly stained wooden booths, and walls hung with shelves of jars featuring Italian specialties like olives, roasted red peppers, and canned beans.

If a comparison is even fair, Pizza Man was the historic equivalent of Lombardi's (New York), Santarpio's (Boston), and Giordano's (Chicago). The interior of Pizza Man itself was a historic marker, since it became a Milwaukee tradition to write or carve one's name or other messages on the wooden booths. The restaurant was also known for its huge wine list, which included over 500 wines from California, Washington, and Oregon.

When we weren't ordering Pizza Man's delicious deep dish pizza (sometimes just their plain old cheese, sausage, mushroom & onion -- which was simply incomparable), we'd often order a pie affectionately referred to as artichoke a la mode -- a thin crust variety topped with mozzarella cheese, artichokes, generous dollops of cream cheese, and slices of fresh tomatoes and garlic.

This wonder of a pizza became one of our absolute favorites -- so much so that we decided to recreate a riff on the original at home. A sourdough crust replaced the thin crust, and roasted cherry tomatoes stood in for the fresh tomato slices... but this pizza was a pretty great stand-in for the real thing.

In memory of Pizza Man, all the good times shared -- and, hopefully, all the good times to come:
Artichoke a la Mode Pizza

Other great memories and photos also available on ThirdCoast Digest.

©BURP! Where Food Happens

Daring Cooks January: Elk and Tofu Satay

peefandlo@sbcglobal.net (Lo) — Thu, 14 Jan 2010 11:08:00 +0000

... and suddenly it was time for the January Daring Cooks Challenge.

We pushed this one so close to the deadline that we quite nearly thought we wouldn't get it done. Fortunately for us, satay doesn't require tons of active cooking time, so we were able to pull this one right out of our magic hat.

We love satay, but we wanted to give ourselves a bit of a challenge. The first thing we did was identify the protein sources we'd be using. Originally, I thought we might go completely vegetarian (and local). After all, we can get locally produced tofu from our friends at The Simple Soyman, and root veggies are still coming to us pretty strong from the Milwaukee Winter Market. But, then we remembered that we can get local elk from Golden Bear Monarchs Elk Farm. Since neither of us had ever actually eaten elk (that we could recall), we decided to please the vegetarians and meat eaters alike -- and make it a local tofu and elk affair (AKA "turf and earf").

We went all-out and picked up a pound of elk tenderloin. Although it wasn't the cheapest cut of meat, it was so gorgeous and tender that we knew it wouldn't need an all-day marinade -- which would come in handy, since we were in a bit of a time crunch. We sliced the elk into 1 inch-wide strips.

We also picked up a pound of extra firm nigari tofu -- which we drained well by wrapping it in a towel and putting it beneath the weight of about 3 ceramic plates. After about 1/2 hour, we removed the tofu and sliced it into 1 inch-wide lengths.

Although the marinade departed from the usual Thai ingredients we were used to seeing for satay, we were intrigued. We doubled the recipe, since we were doing two pounds of protein. And, since we're chile-heads, we added four Thai bird chiles (dehydrated from last summer's backyard garden harvest) to the mix, as well as a dash of fish sauce.

And we whipped the recipe together in no time by throwing everything in the blender.

Then we threw the marinade in two gallon-sized plastic bags and tossed it with our elk and tofu. Everything sat around in the fridge for about 5 hours.

While we were waiting for the marinade to work its magic, we threw together two sauces -- peanut sauce, because we like it, and tamarind sauce, because it just seemed like the right thing to do. And you've gotta have at least two dipping sauces, right? Both came together fairly easily (and were downright tasty).

Of course, then there was another matter -- the weather. We got quite a bit of snow over the holidays, so our yard was a virtual snow drift. The temps were hovering in the low teens (with a nasty wind chill). And yet, we really wanted to grill our satay. So, we brushed off our trusty Weber and dragged out the charcoal.

While the grill was heating up, we laced the goods on well soaked bamboo skewers and put on our mittens.

After grabbing a couple of beers out of our fancy-dancy "Canadian fridge," we were ready to start grilling!

Darkness was falling quickly, and we were getting worried about the photographic aspect of our project. Fortunately, one of the great things about satay is that it doesn't take long to cook. We wanted to keep our elk nice and tender, so we grilled it up medium rare (about 3 minutes/side). And we grilled the tofu just long enough to give it a nice sear. The shot we got out there in the dark isn't great -- but you get the idea.

Just as we thought our fingers would freeze off, the tofu was ready. So, we piled everything into a pan and headed indoors to eat.

The perfectly grilled elk was pink in the center, and perfectly tender. The tofu was well seasoned with a nice crisp crust on the edges. The flavors of coriander and cumin seemed strange at first, but the seasonings really played well with the dipping sauces, and we loved the zip that the Thai bird chiles brought to the table. The tangy tamarind was particularly good with the tofu (as well as the sweet potato fries we had on the side), and the peanut sauce made everything finger licking good.
The verdict? Simple. Fast. And delicious.
Why not dig your grill out of that snow drift and try it out yourself?

Cuppy's Recipe: Satay Marinade and Two Sauces

Be sure to check out all the other Daring Cooks posts... lots of variation in the recipes this time around!

The January 2010 DC challenge was hosted by Cuppy of Cuppylicious and she chose a delicious Thai-inspired recipe for Pork Satay from the book 1000 Recipes by Martha Day.

©BURP! Where Food Happens

Leftover Bliss: Bánh mì Sammiches

peefandlo@sbcglobal.net (Lo) — Tue, 12 Jan 2010 13:31:00 +0000

I know I've said it once already, but I really had no idea how much I'd love Chinese barbequed pork. Interestingly enough, one of the reasons is because it has such incredible versatility as leftovers. Particularly in the form of a sammich.

Let's start off with a confession. Since neither of us had ever eaten bánh mì before, we couldn't exactly use our taste memories as a starting place for putting them together. Instead, we did a little bit of reading. And we discovered lots of great guidance... and quite a bit of fuzzy advice. Some of the best we found was at Viet World Kitchen, where they give a nice description of the history of bánh mì , as well as a master recipe you can use to create your own fanciful version of this incredible sammich.

Seems everyone has their favorite way to make bánh mì (I've even read of some people putting peanut butter on their sandwiches!) -- though there are a few constants: a nice, crisp (but not too crusty) roll; some sort of thinly sliced, grilled meat (or tofu), pickled veggies (usually daikon and carrots), sometimes cucumbers, some sort of spicy componant, mayonnaise, and cilantro.

We had the meat covered. We'd definitely be using our leftover Chinese barbequed pork. But, what about the rest of the ingredients?

We started with the bread. Bolillo rolls seemed as if they would be a good bet for our sammiches (crisp, but not too crunchy, and beautifully soft in the middle), and I knew a local source for them. Unfortunately, we got to the grocery store pretty late after work that night, and we were sad to discover that the supply of Mexican bolillo rolls was already depleted. We ended up settling for a soft French roll -- which wasn't quite crisp on the outside. Passable, but not great. Next time we'll have to think ahead and get to the store earlier in the day.

Cilantro, cucumbers, and mayo were easy. But, what about the pickles? And the spice? We opted for spicy kimchi --which seemed to cover both elements. And we headed home to make our sammiches.

We grilled the rolls on a buttered skillet, just to give them a bit of crispness. And we whipped up a bit of garlic mayonnaise to spread onto the rolls. A few slices of cucumber, a nice pile of thinly sliced pork, a few scoops of kimchi, and a liberal dose of cilantro, and we were all set.

The sandwiches needed a bit of smooshing in order to get them into our mouths. The mayo eeked out of the corners, and the juice from the kimchi dripped down onto our hands. But, we gobbled eagerly, sopping up the drippings with spare bits of bread. The sandwiches were superb -- salty, sweet, spicy, and fragrant, they captured all the best elements of each ingredient and pulled them together in a tasty serenade. We couldn't get enough. We ate them for dinner on Wednesday night... and then again for lunch on Saturday.

Now I'm actually lamenting the fact that I don't have more pork left. I was really looking forward to a batch of pork fried rice... or maybe just another bánh mì.

©BURP! Where Food Happens

NYE 2009: Three Days of Asian Feasting

peefandlo@sbcglobal.net (Lo) — Sun, 10 Jan 2010 20:29:00 +0000

I really didn't think it would take me so long to write about all the feasting we did on New Year's Eve, but it seems that getting back into a normal schedule has taken up most of my energy of late.

It's pretty unbelievable what a bit of time off will do to my sleeping schedule. I'm a night owl by nature, though my day-job doesn't generally allow me to keep the hours I'd like. So, when I go on vacation, it wreaks havoc on my body's time clock. I've been wandering around in a daze for the past week -- trying to keep my eyes open wide enough to catch up on on all the work that didn't get done over our Christmas "break". And somehow, blogging about all that fun we had fell by the wayside.

We really did have a fabulous celebration. There were just three of us, though you wouldn't know it from the amount of food we managed to make and eat! And this year, I'm pleased to say that quite a few of the dishes we made were inspired by recipes we found on other blogs.

Some of the highlights included steamed Chinese dumplings with eggplant and pork. This was our first crack at homemade dumplings, but it didn't stop us from being creative right off the bat. The filling recipe was an ad-lib work of Asian fusion incorporating hot (Italian) pork sausage, sauteed eggplant, coriander, ginger, garlic, scallions, and a bit of toasted sesame oil. I wasn't sure whether the Italian sausage would play well against the Asian flavors, but it turns out it was really quite good! And now I'm a bit sad that I didn't write down the recipe.

Turns out it's pretty easy to make your own dough for Chinese dumplings (who knew?!). The process takes a bit of time, but doesn't require any fancy ingredients (just flour and water) -- and the final dough is silky, stretchy, and very easy to work with. We used Jen's recipe over at Use Real Butter.

We served the dumplings with one of my favorite Asian dipping sauces -- a mixture of shoyu, mirin, chile garlic sauce, and chopped scallions. You can put together the ingredients in a variety of different combinations to balance the flavor to your own taste. In our case, the dip is on the sweeter side, with a nice jolt of kick from plenty of chile garlic paste.

After a quick call to Whole Foods revealed that we'd be able to get sashimi-grade salmon, tuna, and steelhead trout, we put our new-found sushi making skills to work, and made up lots of nigiri and maki. Some of our favorites included Alaskan rolls, spicy tuna rolls, and steelhead scallion rolls.

We made up a nice batch of coconut shrimp using one of my favorite recipes. This particular version, based on a recipe from Cooking Light magazine, is baked, rather than fried. Egg whites help the coconut crust to adhere to the shrimp, and it also ensures that the shrimp cook up super crisp. It makes a great appetizer, but it's also not bad as a main dish, served with a big side of Thai-style stir-fried veggies. I like to use unsweetened shredded coconut for my coconut shrimp -- which isn't quite as sweet, but really brings out the true coconut flavor. I also spray the shrimp with coconut oil spray, which intensifies the flavor and helps the shrimp to get seriously crispy in the oven. We served these with the same dipping sauce as the dumplings (why mess with a good thing, right?).

We also tried our hand at creating Chinese Barbequed pork. I used a 2007 recipe from Cook's Illustrated magazine, which caught my eye some time ago after reading about it on Kate in the Kitchen. Kate's analysis of the recipe was right on -- the glaze was sweet, sticky, and beautifully caramelized. And marinating the meat overnight rendered the pork tender and flavorful. The recipe was a bit puttery (most CI recipes seem, to me, to verge on being almost unnecessary in their detailed instructions), but the results were well worth the effort.

I had no idea that I liked Chinese barbequed pork so much. But, just the smell was enough to render my knees a little bit weak. When we started slicing and tasting, it ended up being so gosh-darn-delicious, we snacked on a good amount of it right from the pan. But, we also managed to save enough to make homemade eggrolls.

Our cooking escapades ended up carrying on through the day on New Year's Eve and into the evening of New Year's Day... it was a long two days of cooking, eating, laughing, drinking plenty of wine (our friends over at Ray's Wine and Spirits here in Milwaukee recommended a delicious, affordable Spanish Verdejo -- Paso a Paso -- which seemed to pair well with absolutely everything), and playing rounds and rounds and rounds of our new favorite board game, Quelf (who can argue with a game that names its characters things like Super Ninja Monkey, The Dude, The Biscuit Farmer, and Queen Spatula??) Played it?? If so, you'll know exactly what I mean.

Even after two whole days of cooking, we still hadn't QUITE used up all of the ingredients we bought. So, we got together yesterday to make a few more rolls of sushi (this time, we went with unagi and California rolls), whip up a batch of crab rangoon, and use up the rest of our eggroll wrappers making deep fried mozzarella sticks. We were so stuffed after that, we never even got around to the tempura...

©BURP! Where Food Happens

New Year's Day: Banana Pancakes with Eggnog & Pecans

peefandlo@sbcglobal.net (Lo) — Fri, 01 Jan 2010 07:30:00 +0000

Did you ever wonder what happens to perfectly ripe bananas when you accidentally leave them in the car overnight in December? Yeah, me neither.

But we found out just the other day. And it wasn't pretty.
Apparently a few hours in a car when the weather falls below 30ºF causes bananas to blacken and turn a bit... well, mushy. Kinda like storing them in the refrigerator.

But, as they say, necessity is often the mother of invention.
We just happened to have a quart of eggnog leftover from the holidays. We also happened to possess some unusually beautiful (and tasty) pecans. So, we decided to whip up something wonderful with our blackened bananas... pancakes anyone??

(You'll note that one small bunch of bananas managed to make it into the house with us... and they served as our banana models while the mushy batch ended up in the pancake batter).

Mix together the dry ingredients in one bowl (chopped pecans, whole wheat flour, baking powder, salt, and sugar), and the wet ingredients in another (mashed brown bananas, vanilla, eggnog, eggs, olive oil). Then combine the two and stir until just combined. You can substitute a bit of yogurt or kefir for the eggnog, if you'd like (milk also works, but you'll want to watch the consistency of the batter so that it doesn't get too thin).

Heat up your pancake griddle with a bit of melted butter, and then add your pancake batter about a 1/3 cup at a time to the griddle.

Cook the pancakes until the tops of the pancakes are bubbling, and the undersides are golden brown.

Serve the finished product with a bit of maple syrup and some extra pecans and bananas.

Or, if you're like me, you can serve them up with a bunch of extra bananas and a bit of syrup.

Either way, as a result of our misfortune, you too can take a dark, mushy situation and turn it into something positively delicious! Just perfect for a bit of breakfast on New Year's Day!

Banana Pancakes with Eggnog & Pecans

May this be just the beginning of all that is delicious in 2010!

©BURP! Where Food Happens

The Miracle of a New Year.

peefandlo@sbcglobal.net (Lo) — Thu, 31 Dec 2009 01:21:00 +0000

So, here we sit, in the last few days of a year that's been fraught with plenty of good -- but enough bad that I can't imagine wanting to hit "replay". And yet, I'm feeling very peaceful.

It's remarkable to think about the hope, the potential, and the joyful mystery of the new year. I'm certainly not delusional, but I've always somehow believed in the hope that springs new upon the eve of the new year. And, as I sit here contemplating what's to come -- I feel that hope.

Tomorrow we will wake up early. If we get up early enough, there will be coffee. And a bit of kranzkuchen. Steph will arrive and we'll drive off to gather our wares for another New Year's feast. This year, we're exploring Asian cuisine. We'll make up a bit of sushi, maybe some Chinese dumplings, a few eggrolls, some tempura, and whatever else we feel inspired to create. We'll cook all day, and nibble as we go. We'll laugh. Play games. Drink wine. And enjoy one another's company. At midnight, we'll crack open a bottle of champagne and toast the new year.

And when it's all over, we'll drift off to sleep with smiling faces and full bellies. And we'll wake up to a blank slate. A new calendar. And the hope that, somehow, an exciting stretch of days just waiting to be shaped into something new, lay before us.

Although it's virtually impossible to simply place all of our burdens down at 11:59 p.m. on the eve of the new year, and wake up to an utterly clean slate on the first of the year, it's certainly a contemplation worth having.

Our hopes and goals for 2010

Stress less, and pray more.

Love freely and deeply. 

Judge less, and be generous with our grace cards. 

Open up, and reach out. 

Stretch our boundaries.

Do more creating, and less tearing down. 

Eat well, and share meals often. 

Explore the boundaries of new cooking worlds. 

Focus on the immense possibility of possibility.

As you reflect on 2009 and step over the threshold of the new year, may only good await.

And may your 2010 hold nothing less than miracles.

©BURP! Where Food Happens

Christmas Roast Beast and other random shots

peefandlo@sbcglobal.net (Lo) — Mon, 28 Dec 2009 19:08:00 +0000

So, how were the holidays at your place?
Our hope is that you were delighted by the company of your most cherished friends and family, satiated by platters of scrumptious food, and made all bright and cheery by a few glasses of great wine.

We certainly were! Nope, I cannot tell a lie. Christmas dinner at our house this year was a positively delicious affair:

Baby winter greens with maple cinnamon walnuts, cranberry goat cheese, fresh raspberries, and lemon-raspberry vinaigrette.
Thyme and garlic rubbed standing rib roast
Porcini & bacon sauce
Parmesan mashed potatoes
Spinach gratin
Roasted romanesco with rosemary garlic butter
Hot buttered rum cheesecakes with rum caramel sauce

We started off by ordering a standing rib roast of beast from our local butcher... Bunzel's Meat Market bequeathed us with ten delicious pounds of USDA prime first-cut beef. We couldn't really argue with that, now, could we?

Preparation of the roast beast began a couple of days ahead. We slashed the roast and slathered it liberally with a mixture of garlic (lots!), fresh thyme (3 T chopped), olive oil (2-3 T), and salt (2 T).

We also threw together ten adorable hot buttered rum cheesecakes (and their accompanying rum caramel sauce -- which we should mention is positively To. Die. For. I think that I could live on it!).

Awesome, huh?

Yeah, well. It turns out we're not the best when it comes to taking pictures of our actual holiday feasts. We get all excited about the preparations, snapping pictures every other minute... but once the festivities begin, we lose all sense of direction when it comes to recording the final product.

We did manage to get a shot of the salad, which we served while the roast was resting in the kitchen... but everything else seems to have gotten lost in the "ooohs" and "aahhhs" and the mumblings of satisfaction as we consumed the roast beast and its swoon-worthy accompaniments.

I'm particularly sad that we didn't get a shot of that bacon porcini gravy and the uber cheesy spinach gratin... soooo good.

*sigh* Maybe next year.

©BURP! Where Food Happens

Burp!'s Holiday Sweet Kitchen (and no, it's not more ice cream!)

peefandlo@sbcglobal.net (Lo) — Mon, 21 Dec 2009 03:35:00 +0000

I couldn't tell you what it was, but this morning I suddenly got this eerie feeling that I needed to check my calendar. Boy, was I shocked to see that Christmas is just over a week away!! Where did the time go?

Fortunately, we have been doing more than simply resting on our laurels for the last few weeks. Our Christmas shopping is done (yes, done!!), we've ordered our standing rib roast for Christmas day dinner, and we just finished wrapping our gifts. Oh -- and we did manage to whip up a nice big batch of chocolate covered cordial cherries.

These delicious tidbits have become a holiday tradition at our house. And we couldn't envision Christmas without them. As of this year, we've been making them for twelve years running.

The cherries soaked in brandy for over a week this year, so these little gems are packing a bit of a punch.

And they're tasting particularly fantastic. We've packed up most of them to give as holiday gifts. But, we'll set aside a few for eating as well... I might even manage to hoard a few long enough to enjoy them on New Year's Eve, if Peef doesn't find them first.

Of course, if you're not a fan of cherries, you could make another one of our favorites: Layered Peppermint Crunch Bark. This stuff is hauntingly similar to the stuff you can buy at Williams Sonoma, without the hefty price tag. A full recipe of this stuff would cost you about $50 at WS. The ingredients to make your own will cost about $12. Yeah, trust me. It's worth the effort.

I also have a pretty fantastic recipe for fudge bourbon balls. You take barely-cooked brownies as its base. They're completely fudgey and wonderful. Come to think of it, we haven't made them yet this year. But, just the thought of them is making me a little bit drooly.

So, it's back into the kitchen with me...

In the meantime, I just want to take the opportunity to wish each and every one of you a Very Merry Christmas! I hope that your celebrations are filled with incredible joy, the company of your favorite people, and plenty of delicious food. And if we don't talk before the new year, may your 2010 be blessed with all that was good in 2009, and then some!

©BURP! Where Food Happens

Autumn Ice Cream: Browned Butterscotch Pumpkin

peefandlo@sbcglobal.net (Lo) — Thu, 10 Dec 2009 22:48:00 +0000

Yeah, yeah, alright. So everyone else is blogging about Christmas cookies... so what? I'm here to prove that ice cream can be just as festive!

We've doing quite a bit of experimenting with ice cream flavors lately (hey, if David Lebovitz can spend his time doing it, so can we). And I'm here to reveal a recipe that makes it well worth your while to drag that ice cream machine out of storage again.

We've created the perfect seasonal pumpkin ice cream... many thanks to the wonder that is browned butter. You'll need just a few ordinary ingredients (pictured)...

... plus a few spices, about 5 eggs, and a little bit of patience.

First, you'll brown five tablespoons of butter in a medium saucepan. You'll add brown sugar, a bit of salt, and about a cup of heavy cream to the mix. You'll swoon.

Once you've regained some semblance of your composure, you'll whip together five egg yolks. You'll stir the browned butter mixture into the egg yolks (slowly, and whipping them continuously with a whisk so as not to cook them), and then return the whole mixture to the stove to make a delicious browned butter custard. Your entire kitchen will smell absolutely fantastic, and the next 5-10 minutes will fly past at breakneck speed.

At that point, the custard should be coating the back of a spatula or wooden spoon. You can pour it through a fine mesh strainer into a bowl containing yet another cup of cold heavy cream.

It will look so pretty, you'll want to take a picture. So, you do. And then, you'll whisk it all together -- adding a cup of pumpkin puree and a bit of vanilla.

At this point, you'll place the ice cream base over an ice bath and stir it until it's completely cool. Then, you'll pop it into the fridge until it's fully chilled (about 3-4 hours, or overnight).

If you're like me, you'll take the opportunity to whip together a delicious pecan pie with pecan shortbread crust...

When the ice cream base is cold, you can whip it up in your ice cream maker. Be sure to add a tablespoon or so of Scotch to the icecream during the last few moments of churning. The flavor is divine.

Once the ice cream has churned, you can pop it back into the freezer for a while while your pie cools.

And then, when the pie is still ever-so-slightly warm, and the ice cream is perfectly frozen, you can serve them all up together on a nice little dessert plate.

You spoon up a nice little scoop of the melting ice cream. Mmm. Buttery and rich. Cool and creamy. Spicy and dreamy. It's like the best pumpkin pie you've ever had in a cup. Or a bowl. Or next to that perfect slice of warm pie.

Your fork gravitates toward the pecan pie. The shortbread flakes under the weight of your fork, and then falls into a fantastic abyss of brown sugar custard. You raise the fork to your lips and take a bite. It's toasty and buttery and nutty and perfect.

You take a forkful of the icecream and the pie together. The convergence of flavors is like the best of Thanksgiving and Christmas all at once. OOOh... Yum!

You don't even care about the extra layer of body fat that you've acquired in the last five minutes or so. After all, you'll need it for the long winter ahead. And you can blame it on the holidays. *smirk*

Recipe: Peef & Lo's Perfect Browned Butterscotch Pumpkin Ice Cream

©BURP! Where Food Happens

Make Ahead Bliss: Corn Bread Pudding with Cranberries, Sausage, and Leeks

peefandlo@sbcglobal.net (Lo) — Sun, 06 Dec 2009 17:04:00 +0000

Mention bread pudding, and most people think of dessert. But, savory bread pudding is actually some seriously good stuff -- and it not only makes for a great side dish, but it can also serve as a main entree when served with a nice pile of veggies or a side salad.

A frugal way to use up that loaf of stale bread sitting on the counter, savory bread pudding is a great way to create a comforting main dish from things you just have "lying around." Flavor combinations are just about endless, and if you play your cards right you can create a time-saving main course for just about any cool autumn evening. You can even assemble the bread pudding the day before you intend to bake it... a great idea for those busy nights before Christmas when every moment counts.

We've done savory puddings before, but this Thanksgiving we came up with a flavor combination that really seemed to bring out the best in local ingredients. Fresh cranberries, bulk Italian sausage, and leeks come together with melted fontina cheese and fresh herbs to create a dish that's as great as a side dish or main-dish entree as it is as a breakfast food (and yes, I was even gobbling the leftovers from this dish cold right from the fridge). This variation uses corn bread as its base; but, the recipe would work with just about any type of bread (just adjust the moisture content accordingly).

First, you need to gather up your bread. We added fresh chopped cranberries to our favorite corn bread recipe and used it as the base for our pudding. But, you can feel free to substitute your favorite cranberry walnut bread. Or simply use your favorite regular corn bread recipe and throw in a handful of dried cranberries (or even currants) when you mix together the pudding.

Cube the bread, and toast it in a low oven for about a 1/2 hour to dry it out and prime it for absorbing all the delicious flavored custard.

Depending on how dry your corn bread is, you might be able to skip the step of toasting it in the oven.
While the bread is toasting, you can saute up about 1/2 lb of Italian sausage and 2 cups of leeks. And don't be tempted to scrimp on the leeks. Two cups might seem like a bunch, but good fresh leeks will cook down considerably once they let off their liquid in the saute pan. Plus, you'll want plenty of that mild, sweet, leek-flavor; it really complements the corn bread and offsets the tartness of the cranberries in this recipe.

Stir together your cubed corn bread, sausage, leeks, and a nice handful of chopped fresh parsley and thyme. If you're using regular corned bread for your recipe, this would be a good time to throw in that handful of dried cranberries if you didn't add them to your corn bread recipe.

Shred up a bit of fontina cheese, and beat together 5-6 eggs with about 3 cups of milk and/or cream. Add the cheese and egg mixture to the bread and allow it to soak for 20-30 minutes, or until the bread seems to have taken up most of the liquid. Then, pour it into a buttered 2 quart baking dish.

Bake the bread pudding for 50-60 minutes -- or until set and browned.

Now just look at that and tell me that you don't just want to snarf it right up.
Be careful, though, and allow it to sit for 10-15 minutes before digging in... it's hot, and you might just burn your too-eager tongue.

Recipe: Corn Bread Pudding with Cranberries, Sausage, and Leeks

©BURP! Where Food Happens

Surprising Side Dish: Brussels Sprouts with Apples & Juniper

peefandlo@sbcglobal.net (Lo) — Thu, 03 Dec 2009 13:10:00 +0000

For years, I took in the flavor of juniper berries primarily through my consumption of gin and tonics. But, lately, the balance is shifting. And I've begun to look for new ways to use the flavor of juniper in my cooking.

At first I was afraid that anything I made with juniper would end up tasting of pine needles. But, I've learned that that simply isn't so. While the juniper berry is a bit resinous in its flavor, it actually bears a pleasant tart-sweet flavor which pairs brilliantly with a number of other ingredients, including apples, bacon, duck, venison, and pork.

It's affinity for apples explains why this side dish, which we ate with our Thanksgiving dinner, was so fabulous.

First, you'll need a pound of fresh brussels sprouts -- cleaned and trimmed -- and one tart apple.

You'll also need a couple of teaspoons of juniper berries. They're available through Penzey's Spices online, if you don't have a local source.

Core the apple and chop it into bite-sized pieces. Prepare the brussels sprouts by cutting a small "X" in the bottom end of each (this helps the brussels sprouts to cook evenly). And crush the juniper berries with a mortar and pestle, or by smashing with the side of a knife.

Place about 2/3 cup of apple juice in the bottom of a large skillet and bring the juice to a boil. Add the brussels sprouts, apples, and juniper. Season with salt & pepper.

Simmer gently, uncovered, for about 5 minutes or until the brussels sprouts are tender.

This is decidedly one of the most unusual side dishes we've ever tried; but, it's positively delicious. The apple flavor tames the cabbagey tendency of the brussels sprouts and the juniper berries lend a sweet, almost floral quality to the dish.

Definitely one to try the next time you're looking for a new way with brussels sprouts!

Recipe: Brussels Sprouts with Apple and Juniper

Random Factoid:

Rodale's Illustrated Encyclopedia of Herbs gives some insight into the herb's long-standing reputation as a protective element: "The plant's pungent aroma has long recommended it for driving away evil spirits and disease. Legend has it that juniper planted beside the front door will keep out witches; the only way for a witch to get past the plant was by correctly counting its needles."

©BURP! Where Food Happens

Giving Thanks: Our Tiny Feast

peefandlo@sbcglobal.net (Lo) — Mon, 30 Nov 2009 19:01:00 +0000

It's always nice to have a bit of time away during a holiday weekend... time off from work, from life, from the computer. But, now we're back -- and it seems fitting that we reflect a bit on our feasting, however humble it might have been.

We were married the day after (American) Thanksgiving in 1998. As a result, the holiday has become a relatively intimate affair. No huge family gatherings. No record-breaking turkeys. No controversy over whole cranberry sauce versus cranberry jelly. No battle between the white and dark meat folks. And no copious leftovers.

Instead, Thanksgiving day ends up being just the two of us chatting and sipping a bit of wine as we cook up a little feast. Often, we do slightly more adventurous dishes -- rabbit ragu, turkey mole, roast duck.

This year, we decided to create a variation on the usual Thanksgiving theme. First, it was our goal to be as local as possible -- so we started off by visiting the Milwaukee Winter Market for our ingredients. We procured a delicious little pheasant from the GBM Elk Farm, a pound of fresh brussels sprouts from Jen Ehr Family Farm, and some delicious Wisconsin cranberries, fresh Italian sausage, and from Outpost Natural Foods. I grabbed a few leeks out of our backyard garden, took the stone ground corn meal from Great River Organic Milling out of the fridge.

We put together a delicious savory bread pudding with homemade corn bread, cranberries, Italian sausage, fontina, and leeks. By far one of the best recipes I've come up with in a long time -- this bread pudding/dressing was even better as a leftover and simply perfect reheated and eaten for breakfast over the holiday weekend!

We brined our pheasant, and then roasted it with a few strips of Beeler's bacon on top, resulting in a very tender, flavorful bird. My one complaint about the dish is that the brine effectively masked a good percentage of the pheasant's natural flavor, so I'm not sure I'd use it again on a pheasant. But, I'm definitely interested in using the recipe on my next turkey.

Recipe: Wisconsin Brine

And we braised our brussels sprouts with apples in a bit of apple juice seasoned with crushed juniper berries. This turned out to be one of the most interesting dishes of the day. We were definitely surprised by the flavor the juniper berries brought to the dish (more sweet and peppery than piney) -- and we'll be sharing the recipe with you soon, since it's definitely a dish to experience.

Definitely an awesome local feast!

Sometimes I miss all the excitement associated with a big family holiday. But, I'm also grateful for the simple opportunity to reconnect with Peef and reflect on the wonderful life we've built together.

I hope each and every one of you had a fantastic Thanksgiving (for those of you in the states who were celebrating) and/or weekend! Rest assured, one of the things we've been thankful for over the past year is your friendship, readership, and great advice. Blogging has changed the way we live, cook, and eat. And it's all because of you!

©BURP! Where Food Happens

Worth the Journey: Italian Sausage Risotto with Brown Rice

peefandlo@sbcglobal.net (Lo) — Fri, 20 Nov 2009 20:43:00 +0000

It's all true, those rumors that you've heard. I really am one of those people who will try anything once -- I figure that what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. So, why not?

I'm particularly adventurous when it comes to food.
Differently colored vegetables? I'm in.
Strange seafood I've never heard of? ALL over it.
Funny smelling cheese? Oh, yeah. Gotta get me some of that.

Needless to say, when the opportunity arises to make something healthier, I generally find myself unable to resist. This time around, it started with a bit of ordinary brown short-grain rice.

Outpost Natural Foods had it on sale in one of their bulk bins, and I found myself thinking (always a very dangerous proposition). If you can make risotto with white arborio rice, which is short-grain, why couldn't you make risotto with brown short-grain rice? So, I decided to give a try.

I pulled out a bag filled with the Principe Borghese tomatoes that we'd dehydrated last summer, and pondered the possibilities. It seemed as if I could make the most of their intense tomato flavor by rehydrating them in the stock I was using for the risotto. So, that's exactly what I did.

While the stock was warming, I got all of the other ingredients together -- market fresh locally grown rainbow Swiss chard (along with their gorgeous stems), locally made Italian sausages, and some diced sweet onion.

I sauteed the onion with the chard stems in a bit of olive oil until they began to show signs of tenderness. I added the sausage, which I'd removed from its casing, and gave it a bit of time to brown just a bit around the edges. My sausage was relatively lean, so it didn't leave off too much fat. What it did render, I left in the pan for flavor. I added the rice and gave it a whirl in the pan to coat the grains with the oil; and, after they toasted a bit I added a splash of dry white wine to give everything a bit of additional flavor. When the wine was fully absorbed into the grains of rice, I started adding the stock cup-by-cup.

Those of you who have made risotto before know that this process doesn't take long at all, and it's by no means arduous. You simply stir the rice faithfully until the grains absorb the liquid, and then add additional liquid. The entire process might take 20 minutes -- and, to be honest, I've really grown to love it. For me, risotto is real cooking. It takes practice to tell when the rice has absorbed enough liquid that you can add the next dose. It takes rhythm to stir the grains, turning them onto themselves so that they absorb the liquid evenly and efficiently. It's repetitive. Relaxing. A meditation of sorts.

Well, I'm here to tell you that it takes quite a bit longer when you use brown rice.

Before you write me off as a completely ignorant dork, I need to tell you that I definitely expected to have to add a bit of time to the process. After all, brown rice simply takes longer to cook than white rice. But, I didn't expect it to take... an hour and fifteen minutes.

uh-huh. So much for all that talk about meditation. I stirred. I added stock. I waited. I watched. And I felt a little bit like I was watching the pot that was never GOING to boil, simply because it was being watched. I even walked away for a while and just let the risotto simmer away for a while. Just as I was about to give up hope and declare my project a failure, the rice actually submitted to my charms and began to achieve the nice creamy consistency that you expect in a good risotto. I will admit to feeling a bit victorious.

I stirred in the rehydrated tomatoes, along with a liberal handful of freshly chopped basil. I also added about a cup of grated pecorino romano cheese.

Even after the long wait, it was difficult to be disappointed with the risotto. Even the mere smell of it as I scooped it into serving bowls was simply intoxicating. The fresh peppery smell of the basil slipped out of the pan first -- followed by the distinct briney odor of the romano cheese. Even the deliciously sweet smell of the fennel from the Italian sausage was evident in the steam that wafted up from the bowl.

In taking my first bite, I noticed that the rice still put forth a bit of resistance against my teeth -- just the sort of resistance you want with an al dente risotto. Even better yet, the brown rice imparted that slightly nutty flavor that only a whole grain can give. I was really loving what I tasted. It was more than just healthy -- it was exactly right.

And I smiled. Sometimes dinner isn't about the journey. It's about the destination.

©BURP! Where Food Happens

Ward's House of Prime: How would you like YOUR steakhouse?

peefandlo@sbcglobal.net (Lo) — Wed, 18 Nov 2009 04:31:00 +0000

Sometimes food blogging has its perks. One of the benefits is being given the opportunity to check out some of the new restaurants on the block. And that makes for some pretty delicious field trips.

This weekend, we had the pleasure of attending the soft opening for a new Milwaukee steakhouse. And, despite the fact that we're not your typical meat and potatoes folks, we were pretty curious about Ward's House of Prime.

The question at the tip of our tongues all evening was: "Does Milwaukee really need another steakhouse?" After all, Ward's is located on the corner of Mason and Jackson Streets in Downtown Milwaukee (in the spot formerly inhabited by Yanni's) -- just blocks away from the Zagat-rated Carnevore Steakhouse Moderne, Mason Street Grill, and not far from the Milwaukee location of Mo's... A Place for Steaks.

But, Ward's is making some pretty hefty claims -- high-end entrees at reasonable prices, an "upscale yet relaxed atmosphere," and an extensive 500-bottle wine list that promises to be one of the best deals in the city. So, we were eager to give them a chance.

We arrived early, figuring we'd beat the crowds; but, we found quite a number of curious onlookers had already arrived to check out the scene. Attentive wait staff were just beginning to offer bite-sized portions of menu staples. The bar was open and the house wine was flowing.

The Menu
Ward's menu includes standard steakhouse favorites, including prime rib, filet mignon, New York strip, and rib-eye, as well as a nice selection of seafood and chicken dishes. We were most disappointed with the menu's lack of regard for the vegetarians among us. Certainly, the emphasis here is steak. However, there is an increasing demand for vegetarian entrees in Milwaukee -- particularly at upscale restaurants which seek to "wine and dine" Milwaukee tourists and corporate travelers. The one vegetarian entree on the current menu is fair, but none-too-inventive -- butternut squash ravioli in boursin cream. Other veggie options could include stone-fired flatbread pizza or salad, and a fair selection of vegetable add-ons (including seasonal brussels sprouts, asparagus, the prerequisite creamed spinach, and green beans almondine); but, it's always a shame when the vegetarians in the crowd have to settle for the side dishes. Deal breaker? Probably not. But, we'll be interested to see if Ward's can expand their menu to be a bit more inclusive.

In today's economic times, starting a business can be risky; but, Ward's appears to be saddling up for the challenge. One of the distinguishing aspects of Ward's menu is its "all inclusive" nature; entrees are served with a choice of soup or salad, and potato. While many downtown steakhouses feature pricey entrees with a la carte side dishes, Ward's provides the whole shebang at a price that won't break your pocket book.

Ward's also plans to offer a bar-only menu that will feature more casual food.
"I don't want this to be known as just a 'special occasion' restaurant," says owner, Brian Ward, "I want this to be an everyday sortofa place. Casual, but upscale."

How the menu looks is all well and good, you say, but how does it TASTE?
Well, we did have the opportunity to give a number of the major offerings a try -- and we found that Ward's food lived up to the hype.

We sampled:

Smoked beef carpaccio -- tender, smoked beef on crisp crostini with just a hint of briney goodness from the black olive tapenade.
Chicken brochettes -- grilled chicken, pineapple, green pepper, and onion with a sweet hoisin glaze.
Succulent shrimp cocktail -- nothing too exciting about this basic appetizer; but the shrimp was fresh and tender, and the cocktail sauce more along the lines of a petitely diced salsa than a sweet puree.
Vegetable flatbread -- al dente zucchini, summer squash, tomatoes and a caramelized glaze topped this crisp pizza appetizer.
Caprese salad smartly featured bright cherry tomatoes, fresh mozzarella, and sweet basil with a pleasant olive-oil vinaigrette.
Mushroom risotto -- delicious al dente rice with earthy mushroom flavor.
Prime rib -- succulent, well-seasoned beef. Tender and perfectly cooked. Definitely worthy of the Ward's name.
Bacon-wrapped water chestnuts -- the classic appetizer. Flavorful smoky bacon wrapped around crisp water chestnuts. Peef was in heaven.
The Prime rib chili was probably the most disappointing dish we sampled -- a bit too sweet for our taste, with few seasonings to note. Unique concept -- but definitely not the best use for an otherwise delicious prime rib.

The Guys Behind the Steak

Brian Ward, Owner, began his restaurant career as a busboy at Open Hearth Restaurant in Milwaukee. After training in MATC’s culinary program, he served as Head Chef at Smith Brothers Fish Shanty in Port Washington, General Manager of Highland House in Mequon, and most recently, General Manager of Mo’s – A Place for Steaks.

Bill Baumann, Executive Chef, is a self-taught chef who began his career at Milwaukee’s landmark German-American restaurant, Karl Ratzsch’s. After leaving Ratzsch’s, Bill honed his craft as Sous Chef for Ristorante Bartolotta. In 2000, he became the Executive Chef of Mo’s – A Place for Steaks, where his culinary skills helped the steakhouse become a Milwaukee favorite. It was a few years into his tenure at Mo’s that Baumann began working with then-General Manager Brian Ward.

The Verdict

Ward's House of Prime officially opened its doors to the public yesterday (Monday, November 16th).

While it isn't the most original restaurant to come out of downtown Milwaukee, it appears that Brian has a good gauge of his prospective audience. Milwaukee is a fairly traditional town, which means that uber-trendy establishments usually get the boot after a year or two (at best). Ward's brings a modern twist to the traditional steakhouse with affordable "full plate" entrees, an impressive (but not daunting) wine list, and a downtown neighborhood feel.

Our kinda place? Probably not. But, it's exactly the sort of spot we'd probably take our parents the next time they're in town.

©BURP! Where Food Happens

Daring Cooks November: Sushi

peefandlo@sbcglobal.net (Lo) — Sat, 14 Nov 2009 07:00:00 +0000

We. Love. Sushi. And we've eaten (probably literally) tons of it in our two short lives. But, we'd never made it before. So, we were pretty excited about this month's challenge.

The challenge had four parts:
Part 1: Making proper sushi rice – you will wash, rinse, drain, soak, cook, dress, and cool short grain rice until each grain is sticky enough to hold toppings or bind ingredients. Then you will use the cooked rice to form three types of sushi:
Part 2: Dragon sushi roll – an avocado covered inside-out rice roll with a tasty surprise filling
Part 3: Decorative sushi – a nori-coated rice roll which reveals a decorative pattern when cut
Part 4: Nigiri sushi – hand-shaped rice rolls with toppings

Of course, before we could start the challenge, we needed to gather our supplies. Turns out we needed to pick up quite a few things.

Rice vinegar (for some reason, I thought I didn't have any on hand. Turns out I ended up buying an extra... typical!)
Sushi rice (no, you can't be all creative and use Arborio... I don't care HOW Italian you are)
Seaweed: Kombu (kelp) and toasted nori sheets (turns out I had some Kombu from the last time I made miso soup... but I really did need the nori)
A sushi rolling mat (you don't absolutely need one, but it makes you feel very cool and official -- and we did find it made the process of rolling much easier)
Sushi meats: We found unagi (barbequed eel) in the frozen section at our local Asian grocer; we also found sashimi grade tuna and salmon at Grasch Foods in Brookfield
Sushi veg: cucumbers, red carrots, beauty heart radishes, shiitake mushrooms, sweet potato, avocado
Miscellaneous items: black sesame seeds, lumpfish roe, wasabi powder (46% true wasabi), and sushi ginger

A few words of advice. If you're going to make your own sushi rice in the traditional manner, be sure you allow yourself enough time. You'll need time to rinse, drain, soak, cook, and cool your rice.

Despite much eye-rolling, Peef was Exceedingly Gentle with the rice -- rinsing and draining them carefully so as not to split the grains. And he exhibited a Saint's Patience when it came time to dress the rice with the prepared sushi vinegar mixture and fan the rice until it had cooled.

One look at the rice told us that all the work was well worth the effort -- the grains were perfectly cooked -- sticky-yet-separated -- and they had a gorgeous sheen. The rice also had great flavor. The flavor of the vinegar was present, but not pronounced... we were ready to roll!

Off to the fun part!! First, we tackled the dragon/caterpillar roll.
In retrospect, we maybe should have started with something a bit more straightforward... But, despite some initial challenges with the sticky rice, and a few exclamations while arranging the roll on the plate, I think he turned out to be pretty cute.

The roll itself wasn't much to look at (even with the red lumpfish roe on top), but once we embellished the dragon with the avocado scales and gave him gorgeous fuschia-colored armor, things came together nicely. A couple of red carrot slivers and a bit of fancy scallion-flame work, and we were pretty pleased with ourselves.

Next, we put together our decorative sushi. We decided to go with the traditional (and relatively straightforward) spiral roll. We filled our roll with sweet potato, seasoned & cooked shiitake mushrooms, beauty heart radishes, and cucumbers. So pretty!!

And finally, we put together a few lovely nigiri sushi -- salmon, tuna, and mixed vegetable.

I was particularly pleased with the look of the mixed vegetable sushi, which really featured the gorgeous veining in the radishes, and the lovely color of the red carrots.

After we'd finished the prerequisite rolls for the challenge, we did a couple more rolls just for fun. First, a shiitake mushroom sweet potato uramaki, or "inside out roll" (we called ours the "autumn roll").

And then, spicy tuna maki. We made our spicy tuna with chopped tuna, mayo, and rooster sauce and embellished the roll with a bit of scallion.

And the best part?
Why -- eating the sushi, of course!

Interested in trying it out for yourself?
Sushi - instructions for sushi rice and rolls

The November 2009 Daring Cooks challenge was brought to you by Audax of Audax Artifex and Rose of The Bite Me Kitchen. They chose sushi as the challenge.

©BURP! Where Food Happens

Indian Summer Eggplant Lasagnette with Cherry Tomato Sauce

peefandlo@sbcglobal.net (Lo) — Tue, 10 Nov 2009 02:16:00 +0000

Autumn this year sucked. It was cold, dreary. Prematurely grey.
But, I was being a good sport. I turned the heat on in the house. I wore my winter jacket outside (sometimes with a scarf). And I had myself all geared up for cold weather comfort food.

And then, something strange happened. The frosty 36ºF days suddenly became balmy 69ºF days. The sun came out. Woodland creatures crept out of their premature hibernation and began to frolick once again. And a day lily in my garden burst into spontaneous autumn bloom (seriously, folks -- I wish I had taken a picture).

For some reason, it seemed wrong to blog about risotto when I could pull out the stops and hearken back to one of those luscious late summer dishes that makes your head swim with lusciousness. And so, I changed my mind.

Instead of hauling out the photos of that risotto, I took a mental journey back to those warm September days when the garden was ripe with cherry tomatoes. I thought back to the delicious end-of-summer lasagnette that's become a tradition at our house. Layers of delicious fried eggplant, roasted cherry tomato sauce, tangy goat cheese, salty parmesan, and plenty of Italian parsley.

Yeah, this was the sort of food I was in the mood for.
Just look at those gorgeous fruits. Succulent. Sweet. Bursting with pure tomato flavor.

On this particular occasion, I took about 4-6 cups of the tomatoes and placed them on a roasting pan in a 425ºF oven with a few nice long sprigs of fresh rosemary.

They sweltered, and burst. Their sugars caramelized and their juices mingled with the flavors of the rosemary branches.

I sauteed about 2 cups of red bell pepper and about the same amount of onion in olive oil. I added 2 cups of uber flavorful homemade chicken stock, a bay leaf, and all those luscious tomatoes. And I let the sauce simmer away for about 30-35 minutes.

Meanwhile, I turned my attention to the eggplant I'd picked up at the farmer's market. And took a sip of the glass of wine Peef poured me while I was making the sauce.

I sliced it thinly, salted it liberally, and then left it to drain for about a 1/2 hour or so; then, I rinsed them briefly and dried them thoroughly. Now, I know that there are skeptics among you -- skeptics who scoff at salting eggplant. Who claim that eggplants don't NEED to be salted. And maybe that's true. But, I'm not into doing extra work if there's no pay off.

In this case, I didn't salt the eggplants because I feared they were bitter; rather, I wanted to draw out some of the moisture from the fruits. This accomplishes three things: 1) It firms the flesh of the eggplant, which renders them texturally more pleasing for the lasagnette; 2) It adds a bit of flavor to the dense eggplant flesh; and 3) A salted (and dried) eggplant will absorb less oil when fried.

I seasoned some flour with salt, pepper, and garlic, and dredged the eggplant. When every slice was nicely powedered, I shallow fried every last piece of it in olive oil.

A few pieces got snarfed up straight out of the hot pan. But, most of them made it to the paper towels to drain. After all, both Peef and I knew what was coming.

While the eggplant was frying, the sauce was busily transforming itself into something positively fabulous. Peef took our stick blender and gave the sauce a whir to smooth things out a bit. He let it simmer for a little while longer, until everything had reduced and thickened. And then, he pulled everything off of the heat. He added a few tablespoons of chopped fresh oregano, Italian parsley, and fresh basil. Finally, he stirred in a pat of butter to give everything a bit of extra richness.

Then, the assembly of the lasagnette began. First a layer of sauce on the bottom of the pan.

Then, layers of eggplant, crumbled fresh goat cheese, chopped parsley, and parmesan cheese. And repeat. Keep layering until you've used up every last bit of eggplant. Then, top with bread crumbs and additional parmesan cheese. Bake at 375ºF for about 30 minutes, or until the lasagnette is browned and bubbles slightly along the edges.

Serve up the lasagnette in generous slices with a bit of extra cheese. Maybe a nice salad alongside.

A pan feeds 6-8 easily. Leftovers are amazing. And it freezes beautifully. In fact, we just ate the last of this batch a couple of weeks ago in the midst of a cold snap. And it was perfect.

Thick Roasted Cherry Tomato Sauce

©BURP! Where Food Happens

Cold Comfort: Root Veggie Stew with Beef

peefandlo@sbcglobal.net (Lo) — Sun, 01 Nov 2009 22:58:00 +0000

This weekend, we both were able to breathe a sigh of relief.

Sure, there were leaves to rake... and a house to clean... but after all was said and done, we finally found ourselves back in the kitchen. And craving a bit of good old fashioned comfort food.

I have fond memories of coming home from elementary school and being greeted by a warm bowl of succulent stew -- tender beef and chunks of potato and carrots surrounded by a delicious brown sauce flavored with onion and bay leaves. Mom always ate her stew like soup -- in a bowl, with a spoon. Dad always piled his stew on top of the bread like a big, open-faced sandwich -- slicing through each bite and eating it with a fork. And me? Well, I remember eating all the vegetables first so that I could savor the few pieces of stew meat in the bottom of the bowl, and use my bread to sop up the delicious sauce.

Some things never change.
The weather has been sunny, but chilly, here in Wisconsin. When we ventured out to the farmer's market on Saturday morning we were surprised by the bone-chilling wind that greeted us when we got out of the car. Wow! Those farmers are sure dedicated folks! And we were glad. Our stash included loads of great stuff -- fresh mustard greens, red kale, end-of-season broccoli, winter squash, Ida Red apples, and rutabaga. The big question became "What would we make with our loot?" Well -- stew, of course!

The stew I make these days still resembles the one I grew up with... but I've taken a few liberties with the ingredients. Taking my cue from all the great chefs who remind us that a fantastic dish is contingent upon fantastic ingredients, we start off with a pound of our favorite grass-fed beef. This beef not only tastes better than your average supermarket meat, but it's seriously nourishing. Among its benefits, grass-fed beef is a great source of vitamin E, omega-3 fatty acids (7 times more than grain fed beef), vitamin C, and beta-carotene. Grass-based farming is also great for the environment (excellent article here at Mother Earth News, if you're interested). Healthy as it is, we're still judicious with our use of red meat. We use the beef primarily as a flavoring for the stew (rather than as the main event), so we can get away with using only about one pound of meat for 6-8 solid servings.

Another update to our beef stew involves... and you've probably guessed it... BEER! Yes, indeed. One of our favorite "stew brews" just happens to be one that's made right here in the Dairy State. Tyranena "The Devil Made Me Do It" Coffee Imperial Oatmeal Porter. Dark and sweet with plenty of coffee flavor, this beer really bumps up the flavor quotient in our stew. And it's mighty nice for drinking on the side too...

And then there are the veggies -- a couple of nice rutabaga, a few delicious carrots, and a handful of Yukon gold potatoes.

We chop the veggies into nice, rustic chunks. This stew cooks for quite a while in the oven, so we don't want everything turning to mush (anyone have BAD memories of overcooked carrots in their mom's beef stew??... yeah, that's exactly what we want to avoid).

Toss the cubed beef with a quarter cup of flour seasoned with salt & pepper.

And now, the cooking begins.

Brown the stew meat in large, oven-safe pan (a Dutch oven, if you have one).

When everything is nicely browned, remove the meat and saute a couple of sliced onions in the same pan. When the onions are just about tender, add 8 cloves of chopped garlic and saute briefly.

You'll notice all sorts of delicious browned bits developing as the onions cook. Feel free to giggle with delight -- all those crusty bits are going to impart some seriously amazing flavor to our stew.

Add a tablespoon of dried thyme to the onions, and stir well. Deglaze the pan with 4 tablespoons of red wine vinegar and a cup or so of the beer. Scrape up those crispy bits as the mixture comes to a boil. They should come off the bottom of the pan surprisingly easily as the vinegar and beer do their thang.

Add the remaining cup of beer, along with 3 cups of good quality beef broth, 2 tablespoons of Dijon style mustard, 2 bay leaves, and 2 tablespoons of brown sugar. Bring the liquid to a boil. Then add your reserved beef, chopped vegetables and three sprigs of fresh rosemary (if you've got 'em). When everything is boiling again, you can cover your pot and transfer the stew to a preheated 350º oven.

Check your stew after about an hour and a half. If the vegetables are tender, you're good to go. If things need a bit more time, you can let it go for another half hour or so.

If the stew seems too thin for your liking, you can remove some of the vegetables and use your choice of methods to thicken the sauce (I like pureeing a few of the vegetables, or adding a roux and simmering it for a bit). Otherwise, just spoon into bowls and serve.

Now, seriously... where's my chunk of crusty bread? It's time for dinner!

Recipe: Root Veggie Stew with Beef

©BURP! Where Food Happens

Poetic Disappointment: Raspberry Chocolate Ice Cream

peefandlo@sbcglobal.net (Lo) — Tue, 27 Oct 2009 21:54:00 +0000

Really? How could ice cream be bad?
I'm still asking myself this very question. After all, it seemed to have everything going for it -- chocolate, cream, awesome raspberries. But, somehow, it just fell... well, flat. I'm still perplexed.

The sad story began on a Saturday in August. The raspberries were as close to perfection as they come -- big, ripe, juicy and local. We'd just procured them from the market, and had nibbled a few out of hand just to be sure. Sheer perfection so far as we could tell.
And we had a nice, fresh container of whipping cream, just begging to be made into something wonderful.
A bit of sugar, some cocoa powder -- the anticipation began to mount.

We cooked up all the good stuff on the stove until the sugar was fully dissolved, and then we took everything off of the heat and added those luscious raspberries to the mix. The pan sat on the stove, covered, for a while -- giving the raspberries just a smidge of time to soften.

And then everything went into the blender...

... where it was whipped into an oblivion.

It was gorgeous stuff -- light, fluffy, silky. It looked like a dream. We scraped it into a bowl, chilled it, and then gave it over to the ice cream machine.

It looked pretty perfect when it came out.
But the flavor?
Flat. Strange. Not-quite-right.

We tasted. And retasted. And scooped. And licked.
It didn't really get better.

But, we really HATE wasting food. So we made the best of things. It took us a number of weeks -- but we ate every last bit of the ice cream. The second round was "enhanced" with a bit of chocolate syrup (which made it passable). The third (and final) round accompanied a batch of seriously fudgy brownies (so good, we almost didn't notice the ice cream).

As you might have noticed, we were so disappointed, we didn't even take photos of the final product... but we did write a little bit of bad poetry.

Ode to Chocolate Raspberry Disappointment
Oh you -- brown creamy treat,
For which we had high hopes.
We sacrificed ripened fruit in your image.
We whipped you in our blender,
Praying for whirled peace.
In exchange, you gave us Brain Freeze.
And an appetite for disaster.

Cold and sweet, but not satisfying.
Like a winter day in August.
We masked you in chocolate syrup.
And still you would not satisfy.

Oh you -- brown creamy creamy treat,
You are not worthy of our pleasure.
Your looks deceive and taunt us.
Chocolate Expectation flaunts
What it can never hope to deliver.
Your whipped creamy goodness
Is but a facade.

And so, we sing of your deceit.
And warn our neighbors.
We spare even the landfill your presence --
And eat what we cannot savor.

©BURP! Where Food Happens

Winter Farmer's Market -- in Milwaukee!

peefandlo@sbcglobal.net (Lo) — Thu, 22 Oct 2009 16:23:00 +0000

Eating locally in Wisconsin can be a challenge -- particularly during the winter months. But, a new development will make it easier for a great many of us. Milwaukee has decided to sponsor a winter farmers' market!

I caught wind of the market a few weeks ago; but, at that point the listing of vendors had not yet been released. This morning, I was excited to find an announcement in my inbox indicating that the market will feature locally grown produce, meats, and other food products from a whole host of vendors that we absolutely LOVE.

Some of the familiar favorites include:

Bolzano Artisan Meats Wisconsin’s first (and only) purveyor of dry-cured meats (located right here in Milwaukee)
JenEhr Family Farm Our favorite organic farm, located in Sun Prairie, WI.
Jeff-Leen Farm Awesome fresh eggs and pastured beef from Random Lake, WI.
Oly’s Oats Wisconsin-milled oats and grains.
Pinehold Gardens Another lovely organic farm, located in Oak Creek, WI. These guys not only grow great veg, but they sponsor the annual pig roast we attend every year.

A couple of other vendors we're excited about include:

Golden Bear Monarchs Elk Farm How great will it be to be able to get locally raised elk... and pheasants??!! (Beloit, WI)
Rolling Meadows Sorghum Mill Local producers of sorghum, maple syrup and honey (Elkhart Lake, WI)

The market will be held on Saturday mornings from 8am-12pm from November 7, 2009 thru April 24, 2010 at the Tommy G. Thompson Youth Building at the Wisconsin State Fair Park.