Braised In Captivity

Take a Wok on the Wild Side (a kickass recipe from a kickass book)

2016-04-03T11:17:00.000-07:00

Today's Specials: Hard Rock and Hot Woks.

Set to the tune of Electric Eel Shock's "Japanese Meets Chinese in USA"

I love me some Asian food.

I mean I love it.

Sushi, Kung Pao, Pho, Kimchi, duck with the darkest glazed skin you'd swear it was simply painted with lacquer, tiny dried out things in bags you can't identify.....you name it....it's all going in my face hole. And this week I had a hankerin' for some home-cooked fare of my own. I wanted it simple, light and easy....like my women. Kidding. Maybe. Anyway, I wanted some damn Chinese food! Which got me thinking about some of the recipes in the library of cookbooks that I'd yet to make. One of those would probably do the trick. I looked at a few and I came across a gem that, frankly (and embarrassingly) I'd forgotten all about. It was a recipe out of one of my favorite books. Stir-Fried Chicken Szechuan Peppercorns as adapted from Grace Young and Alan Richardson's wonderful book, The Breath of a Wok. We'll get to the recipe in a second, but I wanna tell you, my dear Braisers, why this book kicks so much unholy ass.

From the get go, Grace tells us about her father who ritualistically made the family sit at the table closest to the kitchen (notoriously the worst seat in the house) whenever they went out to eat at their favorite Chinese restaurants. This was to ensure that the dishes would still contain 'wok hay'; the elusive and seemingly mystical essence of authentic wok cooking. Her father knew that wok hay only lasted a few moments, so the seat nearest the kitchen would garner a few extra seconds of the fleeting, intoxicating aromas and flavors. And so with that childhood education about Chinatown, she embarks on a journey through the streets and rice pattys of China to convey to us the essence of real wok cooking. Along the way she talks to wok-makers, street chefs who's food is half culinary, half performance,. She teaches us how to select and season what may be to many of us our very first wok, and how to restore a neglected wok back to it's intended luster. She explains why it's so difficult to achieve wok hay in the home because of the extreme heat used abroad and in US Chinese restaurants (she also teaches us how to overcome some of these obstacles and how some immigrant cooks in the US have done so). Not only does she cull some of the most celebrated Asian wok chefs (Susanna Foo, Kevin Chuk, and Martin Yan among many others) for the compilation of the recipes and detailed cooking instructions, but also members of her own family and the nostalgic significance of the dishes prepared. Great recipes, great stories and all of it artfully illustrated by the photographs of Alan Richardson. If I had any complaint about the book, it's that a few of the recipes call for some exotic (duh) ingredients which some people here in the US (esp in Kansas) would have some trouble finding easily. While most can be procured at the local Asian market, it's very disappointing to not be able to find a giant hunk of Lotus Root, am I right, ladies? However an extensive glossary and a list of substitution suggestions minimizes the hassle.

Which brings me to why I chose this particular recipe. When I first got the book, I was determined to work my way through it starting with the first recipe and progressing until I'd cooked the entire book. So I opened it up, found the first recipe (Stir-Fried Chicken w/ Szechuan Peppercorns) and immediately ran into trouble. What the hell are Szechuan Peppercorns? Turns out, they're not related to peppercorns at all, but are in fact a seed hull and a member of the citrus family. Oh, and also they were banned in the US up until 2005. So, naturally, I wasn't able to find them and wasn't able to make the dish properly (as no substitute exists). They've subsequently been un-banned (that's a real word), and available at Penzey's among other retailers and are becoming more common by the hour. So I figured I'd grab a container and head to work.

After I opened the little glass jar and sniffed the contents I was immediately flooded with all the possibilities! It had a definite 'peppery' aroma going on and an earthy richness punctuated by almost floral tones. I could see it being pared easily with all kinds of meat, the more flavorful and bitter greens, all sorts of root veggies, and you could do worse for a sweet/savory dessert sauce. This was gonna be fun....

Stir-Fried Chicken w/ Szechuan Peppercorns
*adapted from Chef Kevin Chuk, instructor at the Chinese Cuisine Training Institute, Hong Kong*

yer gonna need:
12 oz Skinless, boneless Chicken Thighs, cut into 1/2 in cubes
3 Tsp Rice Wine
1 Tsp Corn Starch
3/4 Tsp Salt
1/4 Tsp White Pepper
1 Tsp Black Soy Sauce
1 Tbl Chinkiang (use Balsamic Vinegar if you can't find Chinkiang)
2 Tsp Sesame Oil
1 Tsp Sugar
1/4 Chili Oil
2 Tbl Chicken Stock
1 Tbl Vegetable Oil (may substitute peanut oil, if preference dictates)
8 small Dried Red Chilies
1 Tsp Ginger, thinly sliced
1/4 Tsp roasted, ground Szechuan Peppercorns
1 Scallion, chopped

1, In a medium bowl, combine chicken 1 tsp of the rice wine, the cornstarch, 1/4 tsp each of the salt and white pepper. In another bowl combine the black soy sauce, vinegar, sesame oil, sugar, chili oil, broth, the remaining 2 tsp rice wine, and the remaining 1/2 tsp salt.

2, Heat a 14in flat bottomed wok over high heat until a bead of water dropped into it evaporates within 1 to 2 seconds. Why a flat bottomed wok? Because they make the rockin' world go round. Swirl in the vegetable oil, add the dried chilies, and carefully add the chicken, spreading it evenly in the wok. Cook undisturbed 1 minute (DON'T FUCKING TOUCH IT), letting the chicken begin to brown. Then using a metal spatula, stir fry 1 to 2 minutes or until the chicken is browned on all sides but NOT cooked through. Transfer to plate and set aside.

3, Add the ginger, garlic, ground szechuan peppercorns, and scallion, stir frying in the dry wok for only about 15 seconds at most. Don't burn that garlic, y'all. Return the chicken to the wok. Stir the sauce mixture and swirl it into the wok. Stir fry 30 seconds or until the chicken is just cooked through. Discard the chilies.

______________________________________________

Photo courtesy of Jenn Grace

And I was right. It WAS fun.

Simple...elegant....just enough spice to raise a few beads of sweat and a very interesting infusing of flavor from the peppercorns.

Notes:

I like to garnish this with Thai basil. But you do you. Also this is a medium hot dish. You can increase the heat by increasing the chili oil...or you can decrease the heat by reducing or even omitting it entirely if you wanna be a sissy about it.

I highly recommend it and recommend Grace's book. I know, I know, I know....fuckin sellout right? Sure, kid, whatever you want.

But seriously....get this book.

An Open Letter to the Bitch at Table 15

2015-07-31T18:52:00.000-07:00

There’s no congenial way of saying this so I’ll just come out with it.....but I hope you die of dehydration brought about by venereal disease. I know, I know, I know. You’re probably saying, “Oh, you don’t REALLY mean that. You’re being hyperbolic and exaggerating so that you can put this on your food blog that you haven’t touched in three years.”

But no, I really do mean it. Your visit to my normally delightful little restaurant has been nothing short of a mini-holocaust for the soul....but without the satisfaction of a History Channel documentary.

First, you paraded in waving a coupon around (it expires today) which historically has been a ‘get out of tipping free’ card. But I explained to the staff that this was a cynical way of viewing a first time customer, and so we got down to the business of pleasing you.

And that’s when the trouble started.

Next, you complained loudly to your server that the wine list didn’t include your favorite Costco swill in a cardboard box (I googled it). Luckily, for all of us, you managed to find a bottle - the cheapest bottle - which would pair nicely with the food you had no idea you were going to order and have never tasted before. But more on that later.

***********************DISCLAIMER**************************Now at this point, ladies and germs- I’d like to point out that I, in no way shape or form, have an issue with Costco swill. I love that shit. Gallons of sub-par booze for rock bottom prices. It’s really the only way that a human man of my....oh lets call it grandeur (although I think we can all agree ‘fatassery’ is probably a more apt term for my lapse in judgement) can get shit-faced for $.06 a brain cell. Most other alcohols of repute do the job for $.09 and who can afford that in THIS economy?

*********************END DISCLAIMER******************

After gazing at the menu you made a face. Not a nasty face...more like the face that a dog makes when you decide to teach it algebra.

“What’s ‘Aioli’?” you asked like a dog who’s being taught algebra.
“It’s basically another word for mayonnaise” your server responded.
“Mmmm. Sounds weird. I don’t think I’ll have that.”

Good to know. You won’t be having MOST of the menu this evening. The question I think we’re all chomping at the bit to hear is what you WILL be having tonight.

“Where’s the kid’s menu?”

Oh fuck....that’s right. I forgot. You brought your fucking kid. I cannot compliment enough the logic of bringing a child to a restaurant (where actual people are trying to eat and gain a moment of respite THEIR horrible children) where food is served and bringing along your own food. And the logic of why that food is Cheerios. WHY IS IT ALWAYS FUCKING CHEERIOS?!?!?! Is little Timmy not equally entertained and nourished by a food that doesn’t come in a million pieces? Why not give little Rosilyyn (yes, it’s spelled that way because people don’t think properly) a giant bowl of rice or orzo (shit, I forgot you don’t know what food is. Orzo is a little pasta that kinda looks like rice....ah, forget it). Cheerios are the legos of the food world. Everyone is having a great time until they step on one. But your horrible progeny aside, let’s get back to why you suck.

Where was I?

Oh yes. The kid’s menu. We don’t have one. I’m sorry, but we simply don’t have one. Why not? Because we have kids in here about as often as often as Michael J Fox has really good penmanship. But here’s a little industry secret: almost all restaurants have a bag of chicken fingers in the freezer for exactly this occasion. And no, it’s not because they care about your little fuck trophy. It’s because we don’t want to hear you bitch about how little Jayden can’t go a single meal in public without having something you’ve never served them at home once ever. And no, we don’t have mac and cheese. Unless we do...but it’s not the kind little Michaelangelina will enjoy because it doesn’t come out of a box, glow in the dark, is shaped like their favorite cartoon character, and has ingredients one can find in nature.

Finally....you've ordered your food. You ordered the house specialty. Awesome! You’re gonna LOVE it. It’s dish we’ve really worked and focused on to iron out all the kinks in flavor and service. It makes money, it tastes great, it’s reasonably priced and really shows off the talents of the kitchen and what we can do with the raw materials presented to us. We’re so excited to serve it to you and maybe when you’re done you can tell us....

Eh?
What’s that?

You don’t want any of that stuff on it?

Oh....and you want us to make sure it’s well done.
No pink.
Opaque.
WELL done.

Dry.
Burned.
Ruined.

Dead.

Gotcha.

Look, lady....I wasn’t gonna tell you this, but I had to physically restrain Jose from coming out there with a knife and asking you what the fuck your problem is. You see, Jose is the one who created the pineapple chutney that is kinda the binder of the whole dish you just ordered. He makes each batch lovingly, babysitting the pot which slowly renders astringent pineapple, abrasive peppers, sulphuric onions and a melange of spices and seasonings into a rich, velvety, sweet but not cloying, spicy but balanced, smooth but with texture....sauce that, frankly, ties the whole thing together.

You ordered it on the side. Where you can taste it with zero context and decide it doesn’t fit your expectation of what this thing that you’ve never heard of before should taste like. Your server tells me you took a little bite of it and decided it was ‘too ethnic‘ for your tastes and didn’t touch it after that.

Not only that, but you had a couple of suggestions about what we COULD put on it to make a bit more palatable to you.

“ I think this would be good with some Ranch!....Ooooh! Or Dorothy Lynch!!” you said like a dog who's failed his algebra test but doesn't realize it.

“I just LOVE Asparagus spears! Why don’t you guys serve Asparagus spears!?!”

Your server told you it was just the chef’s choice. But the real reason is because it’s January and only an idiot would ask for Asparagus.

Now where’s your date in all this? Where IS that guy? What’s HE doing? He’s sitting there. Having ordered his food exactly as it comes, enjoying it with the same abandon as he enjoys a night to himself when you’ve decided to leave town. So overwhelmed with the ecstasy of his food that he’s having a hard time keeping his hand from shaking while he simultaneously wipes his sweat from his brow, Instagrams the shit out of this meal, and hides his ever growing erection. That’s who you should be. You should be the person who....for lack of a better word.....TRUSTS.

Who hurt you? Why do you have to hurt others with your fuckery?

In all honesty, I’ve stopped caring. I’m already outside having a cigarette and joking with Jose. It’s only been 8 minutes since you got your entree and we’ve already written half the jokes for this blog.

We’re now moving on to what happened in your childhood to make you behave in the manner you have tonight.

In conclusion, I would invite you to disappear. Disappear in the same way that the only black person in a horror movie disappears. Disappear in the same way that a parent in a Disney film disappears. Disappear in the same way that a minor female character disappears in American Psycho.

Just disappear.

Hugs and Kisses,
Chef Rob

The Planned Parenthood to Your Self-Inflicted Culinary Abortion

Confit and Loathing in Omaha (the conclusion to the Duck Confit Chronicles as told in the style of Hunter S. Thompson)

2012-07-11T23:48:00.001-07:00

3am. Omaha.

The effects of the evening's festivities are beginning to recede and reality is slowly encroaching. Once upon a time (a lifetime ago it seems) they flocked to me like motorists on a stretch of highway where a horrific accident has taken place. Necks cranked to gaze at the heaping wreckage of their own sobriety. Goddamn vultures choking down huge wet clumps of their own willpower, squawking at me like Tea Partiers at a Glenn Beck rally. Where once there were my comrades, there is just strewn-about carnage. Casualties of a night of substance abuse, and too much time between visitations. The dizzying highs now replaced by a sinking feeling that I've been neglecting something for far too long....and the blog reaper has come to collect his due. Once filled with the warmth of kinship and home, I look at the collection of empty bottles and vials perched precariously on the counter top and can't bring myself to make the cliched metaphor. Where there was once the sound of laughter and bawdy jokes spat out at the tops of lungs at a machine gun pace, there is only the sound of cicadas outside in the god-forsaken heat. The heat....God is playing some sort of joke on us, I just know it.

No, it's 3am and my mind is beginning to clear. I hate this. Nothing to do now, I thought, but write as the lines and edges become steadily and irrepressibly more contrasted. No....nothing to do now but write.

And eat.

My god, I'm hungry. I was able to stave off the dreaded beast while in the throes of debauchery. But now that the hedonistic fires of excess have smoldered into ash, it returns like a vengeful shark with the scent of human blood hibernating in it's nostrils. I look in the fridge. It's a barren wasteland of derelict to-go boxes and condiments. But there, beyond the 3-day-old Lo Mein and and cardboard box of pizza crust I see it. Shimmering like a mirage to a man dying of thirst. My duck confit.

"You magnificent bastard" I couldn't help but mutter.

I pulled it forward and looked at the label. Scrawled in primitive caveman writing: 'Open on 3-17.' My god. Had it been that long? Had I forgotten? Was it still even good? I pried off the lid to expose a landscape of pillowy fat, as unblemished as an airbrushed 50's centerfold. The smell conjured up a million sleepless nights in Paris and the hint of sweet and sour decadence was enough to make my head reel. They say war is hell. But there's nothing worse than a man in the throes of a confit addiction with nothing to knock that horrid monkey off his back. Luckily for me, that wasn't a concern of mine. Here it was. My prize. My desire. My duck.

After a few minutes in a hot water bath it was ready to go into the pan. With a great sputtering of duck fat like a radio set to a channel that doesn't exist, like a madman's thoughts, I set about my work. Meticulously browning one side and then the next; a mad scientist scurrying about with the creation of life stopping only to bellow at the top of his lungs "It's ALIVE!!"

Botulinum Clostridium is the little beastie responsible for what's commonly known as Botulism poisoning. This tenacious little bastard loves airless environments where it waits, poised to infect the first hapless fucker who comes along. Exactly the environment created by the production of duck confit. Botulism is a neurotoxin, the first effects of which are a dryness in the mouth. Followed by a difficulty in swallowing and speaking....often accompanied by a characteristic drooping of the eyelids indicating the toxin has done it's nasty work destroying the inner musculature. Next the extremities become paralyzed until finally the victim finds the muscles responsible for breathing becoming infected. When caught early, months of recovery are needed often requiring physical therapy. Death is the result in most untreated cases. So why would anyone subject themselves to this sort of risk for the simple act of eating duck legs?

That's a question only asked by those who have never had duck confit.

I wolfed down every morsel while my knife looked on, useless. With nothing left but a pile of bones and a guilty conscience (mostly because of how little guilt I felt over the death of several ducks for my own carnal delight), I retired to bed. Full. Sober. Unrepentant.

That night I
dreamt of large insects terrorizing small villages. I awoke to the green light of morning pouring into my bedroom windows. Head pounding I surveyed the damage. It was for lack of a better word extensive. But nothing a good wrecking crew and paper towel or two couldn't fix. As I cleaned up the glasses and not-so-vivid memories of the previous night's events I caught a glance of the derelict jar where my duck confit once lived. Empty. I'd almost forgotten I'd had it. Or had I? Had it been a dream? Was I dead?

No time for that, I thought as I poured myself a glass of scotch.

Pudding for a Day, King for a Lifetime (a word on friendship)

2012-04-02T16:51:00.000-07:00

Set to the tune of Primus' "Pudding Time"

As the calendar slowly and methodically creeps towards a day that will mark the 32nd year of my presence on this planet, I ponder the vast intricacies of life. I search for conclusion....I test my meddle against unfounded fears and to the heights of gorgeousness and gorgeosity. I've come to a conclusion...and there's no possible way to deny it at this point, so why put up the pretense? The conclusion is this:

A lot of my friends are kinda douchebags.

I know what you're thinking. Wait, YOU'RE calling someone a douchebag? Isn't that the pot calling the kettle black?

Yeah, I know, right? but here's the thing: we can spot our own...also, you're a racist (it's like the pot calling the kettle African American). But that's why I like em, I 'spose. Anyway, when my foul-mouthed, abrasive, and especially douchey semi-acquaintance Clint sent the public request to contribute to his pudding review blog (coincidentally called Puddingreviews.com), well....I knew I had to lend a hand. If for no other reason than I would get a chance to call him a douchebag publicly and, more than likely, he'd probably publish it.

Now, I've never really been a pudding connoisseur, so I was gonna have to take a crash course. To the supermarket!!

Mercy Christmas! There were a lot of fuckin' puddings there. Spanning the flavor rainbow like a promiscuous Skittle. Apple Custard Pie, Pumpkin Spice, Flan, Creme Brulee, Dulce De Leche, Chocolate, Dark Chocolate, Double Chocolate, Double Dark Chocolate, Chocolate Swirl, Cinnamon Roll, Ice Cream, Strawberry Cheesecake, and even one that changed colors as you made it!

Ho.

Lee.

Shit.

This man does not love you

But there was a problem. As I pulled one box of Gell-Oh (fuck em, if they ain't paying me, I ain't saying their name) after another, I noticed that there were a lot of ingredients listed that weren't real food. Do YOU have any idea what Adipic Acid is? What about Xylitol, Acesulfame Potassium, Disodium Phosphate, Fumaric Acid, Phenylan, or Maltodextrine? Not to mention Red #40, Blues #1 & 2, and Yellows #5 & 6. And just to make sure there's no question about it, something called "Artificial Flavors."

I've been looking after my health a little bit lately in an effort to shed some unwanted poundage, and one of the rules I made for myself was that I wouldn't put anything but actual food in my mouth....and unpronounceable pudding chemicals didn't really qualify. I suppose I could have gone with an organic pudding mix from Whole Foods, but who needs to spend $30 bucks on pudding and have to deal with the hipsters with neck tattoos and an affinity for the Indigo Girls?

THE SITUATION:

No. I was gonna have to make my own pudding. Here's the problem, though....I'd never done it before. Custard, sure, pudding no. So, time to hit the books. No, this isn't necessary, but I wanted a good sample group of various puddings. Turns out, in the average pudding....there's only about 5 ingredients, all recognizable. The most direct and (seeming to me) versatile recipe came from my good ol dogeared and stained copy of "The Joy Of Cooking." It read thusly:

THE RECIPE:

Vanilla Pudding

makes 4 servings

1/4 C sugar

3 Tbl Cornstarch

1/8 Tsp salt

1/4 C Milk, reserved

1 3/4 C Milk

1 Large Egg, beaten in separate bowl

1/2 Tsp Vanilla

1. Mix sugar, cornstarch, and salt in a heavy sauce pan (not over heat). Whisk in 1/4 Cup milk, making a smooth, runny paste. Then add the rest of the milk.

2. Place pan over medium heat and stir constantly until the mixture just comes to a simmer. Remove from heat and stir 1/2 Cup of the milk mixture slowly into the bowl with the beaten egg. Stir this mixture back into the pan and bring to a boil for 1 minute, stirring constantly.

3. Remove from heat and stir in the vanilla. Pour the pudding into your serving bowl and refrigerate for 2-4 hours. To keep a skin from forming, take a piece of plastic wrap, cover, and press it into the pudding before refrigerating.

THE REVIEW:
Ok...so it's not as easy as going to the store and buying colored chemical goop in a non-biodegradable coffin. But here's the thing, you can actually make MORE of the above and put them in little cups. Reusable ones....hell, bowls full of the stuff can easily be made. Then you get all of the joy of opening up pudding (let's face it, it's like a mini-Christmas) but you actually KNOW what's in it and can pronounce most of the ingredients properly on the first try.

So how did it taste?

Well....like vanilla pudding. Like damn fine vanilla pudding. The vanilla is the star here, so I would def go with as high quality vanilla as you can find. This may be the time to pull out the fancy stuff you bought for big bucks and were "saving for a special occasion." I added an extra element also: Meringue. And then I torched it to give it a nice toasted marshmallow overtone to the whole thing. After all this is Puddingreviews.com....not rateyourdessert.net, or puddingratings.com, or even Reviewsofpudding.org. No, no....this is PUDDINGREVIEWS.COM and as such, the dish demanded class! Meringue it was. Also I discovered that you can sprinkle some sugar on top of the thing and torch it to make a very no fuss Creme Brulee. Classy as shit, right here.

So give it a go. Make big ol' batch of pudding and share it with your douchebag friends.

A Humorous And Witty Title (for an overdue conclusion of a Corned Beef blog entry)

2012-03-15T14:26:00.000-07:00

Set to the tune of: The Zutons' "Pressure Point"

Alrighty roo (or roux if you prefer), this one is gonna be a little different and I'll tell you why. Right now you should have your brisket brining or dry rubbed and you should be waiting patiently for your corning guide and humble narrator to give you further instruction. I went with the dry rub (including the TCM). Now I want to give you the next steps (i.e. the fun part: cooking) but since my brisket won't be ready for a couple of days, I'll have no pictures. Hopefully I can describe it all well enough and I'll post the pics afterwards. That's ok, isn't it?

Good.

The first thing you're going to want to do is give your meat a little rinse. Then wash off your brisket. All you're looking for is to get the big particles off of it. We're gonna be braising this guy, so were gonna need a single pot that can hold the meat. If you cut it into two pieces for the curing process, that's ok, just make sure your pot can hold both pieces simultaneously. Actually, a word on your cooking vessel. It should be sturdy, big enough to accommodate your meat, but not overly large....this will cut down on the liquid needed to braise. It should be oven safe and have a nicely fitting lid. Now since we're braising in Guinness and not wine, you can even go with a cast iron pot (if we were using wine, the acidity would impart a metallic taste).

Now lemme ask ya: Don't you hate it when someone makes corned beef and all of the veggies and cabbage and stuff are mushy as hell? Yeah...me too. And we're going to avoid it, dammit! We're going to do it by cooking our flavoring ingredients first, straining all that shit out, and then adding the veggies we're actually going to eat and cooking them till they're perfect (perfection being in the eye of the beholder of course). It's gonna cost you a little more in veggie expense, but it'll be worth it. Carrots, celery, and onions are typically things most folks have at all times anyway. If not...they're cheap and easy to put into just about anything. So....ready? Here we go!

ROUND1

Yer gonna need:

Your rinsed brisket, patted dry

Pepper to taste

3 Tbl Vegetable Oil

3-4 Carrots, coarsely chopped

5-6 Celery ribs, coarsely chopped

2 Medium Onions, coarsely chopped

2 Heads of Garlic, halved

2 Tbl Thyme, dried

2 Tbl Oregano, dried

1 Tbl Chicken Base

1 Tbl Beef Base

A six pack of Guinness

That's pretty much the basics. What's great about the braising process and this recipe in particular is that there's a lot of room for substitutions and alternate flavors. Want Rosemary? Put in some Rosemary. Want some Turnips, Parsnips or Rutabagas? You got it. Some other options: Mushrooms, some more of the pickling spice, bay leaves.....the list goes on and on. And remember, we're straining out this first round, so you don't need to worry about cutting too finely, or having stems or all that jazz in there. It's all coming out.

1. Heat your stockpot, dutch oven or whatever you're using over a medium flame. Season your beef with the pepper (you shouldn't have to add more salt as it's been sitting in a salt solution for several days). Add the oil and heat until it sorta shimmers a little. Then carefully add the meat and brown on all sides. If it smokes or spatters excessively, lower your heat. By the end, you should have some little browned bits (called fond in cooking circles). That's a good thing. Add your vegetables and garlic and let it sautee for just a little bit to soften and maybe take a little color. If it's too dry, add a little more oil.

2. Deglaze the pot with one of the Guinness. Guinnesses? I don't know....just use one bottle. Stir the pot, scraping up on the fond to dislodge it from the bottom. Add your herbs, your chicken and beef bases to dissolve and incorporate. Then add your beef back into the pot, using the aromatics as a sort of base. Add the rest of the Guinness so that it half-way covers the meat. If there's some leftover, good work! Drink it and say the famous Gaelic phrase: "That Braised In Captivity guy is a freakin genius!" Yeah...look it up. If there ISN'T any left over, I'm sorry....although I am still a genius. If there isn't enough AND you don't have your meat covered to the appropriate level...top off with water and use a smaller pot next time (still a genius). Now bump your heat up to high and get this potion up to a nice simmer. You don't want to go full boil as it'll cause the meat to toughen up. Once it starts to simmer, you can either leave it on the stove to do it's thing (which makes checking on it, and adjusting easier) or you can put it into a 350 degree oven (this clears range space and ensures that gentle heat is what's cooking your beef). Either method will work.

How long are you gonna cook it for? If you said 'till it's done' you're absolutely right and you win nothing. Except my admiration....which is similar to nothing. Basically we're on a sliding scale here. Right now were at Tough as Hell and at the end of the scale is Mushy as Fuck. We don't want to be at either end, but rather in the middle where slicing, tender beef, and corned beef sandwiches lie. So start with 2 hours. Stick a fork in it. You know how you like it. If it's not there yet, keep going. By the 6 hour mark, you just leaving pull apart tender and starting your journey towards Mushy...so watch it.

ROUND 2

Yer gonna need:

2 Heads Green Cabbage, cut to your liking

3-5 Medium-sized, waxy potatoes (like Yukon Gold), cut to your liking

2 Carrots, cut to your liking

3-4 Celery Ribs, cut to your liking

1 Small Onion, cut to your liking

Again, there are some options here. Some people like to add some caraway, mustard seed, mushrooms or what have you. If you want it there, do it. Just remember to add it to the pot in order of cooking times.

1. Pull the meat out of the pot and allow to rest on a cutting board. Cover with a layer of tin foil.

2. Strain your braising liquid through a fine mesh strainer. REMEMBER: IT'S THE OPPOSITE OF PASTA!! We're saving the LIQUID, discarding the solids. So make sure you have a bowl or another pot to catch all that goodness (and it will be delicious at this point....and only gonna get better). Give the original pot a rinse to get rid of any leaves or cooking scum. Add the braising liquid back into the pot and turn up the heat to medium-high or high. We're looking to reduce this a little. If the amount and the flavor are already to your liking....skip it. But if not, we want to get this down to a nice, flavorful broth. Not too strong...not too salty...and in enough quantity to cover and cook all of our round 2 veggies. Once you've got it where you want it, it's time for the veggies!

3. With the liquid still boiling, add your potatoes, cook until about half-way done. Then add your carrots, celery, and onion. This would also be the point at which you add any other herbs or flavorings. Continue to cook until the mixture is back to a simmer or boil. Then hit it with your cabbage. Cook until the cabbage, veggies, and potatoes are to the doneness level you like.

4. While that's all going on, slice up your corned beef however you want. Or pull it apart...whatever you've decided. By the time you're done (or shortly after), your veggies should be nice and tender, but still toothsome. Your potatoes should have a nice buttery texture. Your cabbage should be soft but not stinking....and your broth should be like sex: Hot and flavorful and tasting distinctly of fine booze.

Thats, it, gang! You've got yourself a bangin' corned beef and now that you're done eating, time to put on some silly green glasses and head out to the bars to watch scantily-clad college girls throw up on their high heels while their dates get the car.

Till next time, brasiers! Now where did I put that duck confit....

I Like My Beef Like I Like My Women (full of Guinness and in my mouth)

2012-03-11T18:50:00.000-07:00

Set to the tune of: Flogging Molly's Salty Dog

Twenty bucks says you didn't know Corned Beef was invented by the Babylonians thousands of years before the birth of Christ in an attempt to ward off evil spirits from the rice crops.

That's because it isn't true.

But it IS horrible segue into what I really want to point out. St. Patrick's Day is coming up and what would a St. Patrick's Day be without copious amounts of booze and meat? The same could be said for Independence Day, Christmas, Presidents' Day, and Tuesday mornings.

A couple years ago I had the best corned beef and cabbage I'd ever had in my life. Imagine my surprise when it was me who'd made it! Let's take a look:

MEAT:

Most, if not all, corned beef starts as a simple, humble beef brisket. It gets cured slightly (either by dry or wet means - we'll get into that a little later), braised in a liquid and sliced.

LIQUID:

You could just use water. But why add anything to your dish that isn't gonna bring any flavor? No...for our purposes, we're gonna need better stuff. Guinness spiked with a little beef and chicken stock should do the trick.

OTHER STUFF:

Basically we're talking aromatics, here. Carrots, celery, onions, garlic, peppercorns, & bay leaves. This is to flavor the braising liquid and thus the meat. The stuff we're actually going to eat (carrots, onions, celery, potatoes, and of course the ubiquitous cabbage) will come at the second stage of cooking.

The first step is to actually get the brisket. A brisket is actually two muscle groups and as such has two different cuts. The first is the 'point' cut and is big and thick, and layered with delicious fat...just like your humble narrator. The second is the 'flat' cut and is thinner, leaner, and pretty damn good, too. You can go two different ways with it. You can cook one or the other....or you can do both simultaneously. Your call. Your butcher will be able to direct you further. And don't be afraid to ask those nice fellas in the meat section of the supermarket to cut one for you...that's what they're there for.

Another option is get a commercially cured brisket (they come in either point, flat cuts, or both). This is one of those (rare) times when a store-bought product is just as good as something you can make yourself (the other is ketchup). They usually come with an array of spices and curing medium. Note, do NOT get the presliced, pre-cooked, or canned stuff. All you want is just the pre-cured meat. If you're interested in buying already 'corned' beef, just wait till the next Braised in Captivity installment. If you want to cure it yourself, read on.

Ok, so you've gone to your supermarket or butcher and you've gotten either the point or the flat cut or both. Now what? Now you cure that sumbitch!

You have a couple options, here: A wet or a dry cure. Both are ridiculously easy and both require a few days (from 5-10 depending on your cut). I'm gonna treat this like a choose your own adventure-type recipe, so:

IF YOU'VE CHOSEN THE WET CURE (BRINE):

(note: This should be plenty for one cut or the other. If you're doing both, you may need to adjust accordingly)

Yer gonna need:

1 Gallon/4 liters Water

2 Cups/450g Kosher Salt

1/2 Cup/100g Sugar

1oz/ 25g/ 5 tsp TCM*

3 Garlic Cloves, smashed

2 Tbl/ 20g Pickling Spice Mix**

5lb Beef Brisket

*Also known as pink salt, curing salt, insta-cure and under number of brand names.

**A mixture of mustard seeds, peppercorns, juniper berries, bay leaves and some other spices. Readily available in most supermarkets.

1. Combine all the brine ingredients in a pot large enough to hold the brisket comfortably. Bring to a simmer, stirring until salt and sugar are dissolved. Remove from heat and allow to cool to room temperature. Then refrigerate the brine until it's completely chilled.

2. Place the brisket in the brine using a weight until it is completely submerged. Refrigerate for 5 days. Note: If your meat is able to fit in a sealable bag, this method is also acceptable. But put it in another container, too, just in case it springs a leak.

IF YOU'VE CHOSEN THE DRY CURE:

Yer gonna need:

3 Garlic Cloves, minces or smashed into a paste

5 tsp TCM

1/2 to 1 Cup Kosher Salt (depending on the size of your meat)

2-3 Tbl Pickling Spice Mix

1. Pat Brisket dry. Excluding the garlic, mix all the dry ingredients in a little bowl.

2. Spear the meat about 30 times per side with meat fork or metal skewer (have as much fun as possible with this). Then rub the garlic all over the surface of the meat. Then rub the meat with the salt/spice mixture. Place in a 2-gallon zipper-lock bag (try to squeeze out as much air as possible) and place in a container to catch any leaked juices. Place a weight (a brick or some cans will do) on the bag and refrigerate for 5-7 days. Don't be afraid to cut the meat down further if it won't fit into the bag as is.

A NOTE ABOUT THE CURING PROCESS:

The TCM in both procedures are there for one purpose: To keep the meat pink. If color isn't important to you, just replace it with salt. The meat will taste the same, it just won't be that nice pink color. Also, there are some studies that may suggest that nitrates and nitrites (of which TCM is one) which suggest that excessive consumption of cured meats (cured with TCM) may be damaging to ones health. So don't be afraid to omit it....just realize that your meat will look fully cooked or 'gray' at the end of it all. I'm going with the TCM-cured beef since I like the pink color and I have some TCM laying around from our bacon adventure.

Ok, Braisers. We'll meet back here in a few days for the actual cooking process.

Remember Kids, Try This at Home (or even better try this at Rome: a recipe)

2012-03-05T05:00:00.000-08:00

I have a confession to make, dear Braisers. I haven't been making desserts lately. I don't know why....maybe it's my decision to be a little healthier that has steered my subconscious away from sugar (and towards duckfat, bacon, and cream soups), maybe there's some insecurity in the face of some of the wonderful desserts presented by my friends.....or maybe it's just that I have a penis. Who can say? But I recently had the opportunity, nay privilege of making one. And not just any dessert....one of those fancy ones with the foreign names. Of course I'm referring to....Tiramisu.

Here's how it all went down.

I don't know how many of you remember, but a little while ago, I wrote a little story. It was about how, while traveling in Europe, my traveling companion and I, in a star-crossed attempt at walking to the Catacombs accidentally stumbled across a gorgeous and unique restaurant. One of the oldest working restaurants in Rome, actually...Hostaria Antica Roma, and it's chef/server/owner/all around friendly guy, Paolo. You can read all about it here, if you'd like.

In doing some of the research for the entry, I sought out their website and Facebook pages (the story took place many years ago, so I had to drain some of the scotch from the old memory bank). When I was finished with the whole thing, I sent a copy to Paolo. Thought he might get a kick out of it. That was all...

...and then about a week or so later I got an Email.

It was Paolo.

He was giving me his Tiramisu recipe to use in the blog!

Fuck. Yes.

I HAD to make it! There was just no way around it....people don't just give up their money-making recipes to some douchebag online everyday, do they? No, really. DO they?? Lemme tell ya gang, this is the real deal and it is bangin' I'm just gonna give you the straight text from Paolo himself (any procedural notes I have will be made in red...and any dick or fart jokes I have will be in blue). So without further ado:

Paolo's Tiramisu

Yer gonna need:

500g Mascarpone Cheese (approx 1 lb)

6 Pasteurized Eggs

2 Pkgs Savoiardi Lady Fingers

3 Tbl Sugar

8 Espresso-sized cups of coffe (approx 14 oz)

4 Tbl Powdered Unsweetened Cocoa

**Couple of notes on your ingredients before we get started: There are a couple different kinds of lady fingers to choose from, they range from long slender LADY fingers, to thick, flabby, spongy PLUMMERS fingers. Get as close to you can to the slender ones. They'll look more like crisp cookies than spongecake. Also, I took a look at there's about 20 different ingredients (mostly unpronounceable chemicals) in the spongy fingers compared to 5 (all of which easily recognizable) in the cookie fingers.

Also it may be interesting to note that this is absent of the brandy, rum, or coffee liqueur often found in Tiramisu recipes.**

Primary Steps:

1. Bring all ingredients to room temperature. [This cannot be stressed enough. Mascarpone is similar in texture to cream cheese and should be pretty soft before trying to incorporate anything into it. Overnight is perfect (don't worry the packages are sealed, so it won't go bad or anything) but a minimum of a couple hours is required. DO NOT SKIP THIS]

2. Make and pour espresso into a shallow, flat-bottomed container. Add one Tsp cocoa and allow to cool to room temperature. [At this point Paolo points out that if you've decided instead to use regular coffee; take it and put it into a cup. Then drink it and make some real espresso, so don't skimp out. ]

3. Separate Egg Yolks and Whites.

air incorporated into yolks

Mixing:

1. In the first mixing bowl, beat yolks and sugar until cream and lightened in color. Add Mascarpone & mix until blended.

mascarpone added

mixture fully incorporated

2. In a second mixing bowl, beat egg whites until fluffy. If you use pasteurized eggs, this may take a while. [Boy he's not kidding. Pasteurized eggs are eggs that have been heated to a specific temperature for a specific amount of time in order to kill any harmful bacteria inside. Since we're using raw eggs and we're not gonna be cooking them, it's important to have them. But if you trust your egg source and haven't had any problems or anything, go with regular. The pasteurized egg typically behaves and tastes like a regular egg, but it DOES take a lot longer to whip. I enlisted the aid of my trusty stand mixer.]

2. Fold beaten egg whites into Mascarpone mixture. Mix only enough to blend. Over mixing will deflate the egg whites.

3. Quickly dip Savoiardi in the espresso bowl. To get the right amount of espresso on the Savoiardi, lay the finger flat in the bottom of the container with the espresso sugar side UP. Immediately pull it out. Then place each finger in your serving dish sugar side DOWN. The finger will quickly soak up the espresso, so if you soak the Savoiardi, you'll end up with a soggy mess instead of moist fingers. [heh....moist fingers].

Assembly:

1. Build a layer of Savoiardi across the bottom of the pan. If some of the Savoiardi do not look 'dark' from the espresso, spoon a few more drops of espresso to darken. Any excess espresso in the bottom of the pan will be absorbed by the Savoiardi, but too much will turn the fingers into a soggy mess.

2. Spoon a layer of the Mascarpone mixture across the layer of Savoiardi. Use about 1/2 of the Mascarpone mix. The layer should be about 1cm (3/8 in) thick.

3. Dip and lay another layer of Savoiardi on the Mascarpone layer as before, sugar side down. Drip more espresso over the fingers if they're not dark enough.

4. Spoon a second layer of Mascarpone/egg mixture across the second layer of Savoiardi. Use the remaining Mascarpone mixture. The layer should be about 1cm (3/8in) thick. [I still had the materials; lady fingers, mixture, and espresso, as well as the headroom in the dish to do a third layer. My dish was a 2qt, 8 1/2 x 10 or so.]

5. Sift cocoa on the final mascarpone layer. Do this evenly by spooning the cocoa into a fine mesh sieve. Hold the sieve over the Tiramisu and tap with your finger. Cocoa should sprinkle down in an even layer. Use this technique to cover the Tiramiso with a very thin layer of cocoa.

Refrigerate for at least 4 hours before serving. The Tiramisu will taste quite good for several days if refrigerated. [This might be true. It hasn't lasted that long.]

So how does it taste? Brilliant. Make no mistake, though...this is not the Tiramisu you'll find at the Macaroni Grill or...(shudder)....Applebee's, with it's cloying sweetness and sterile coffee flavor. This is a completely different animal: the coffee is forward and vibrant with it's many nuances coming through (which is why it's important not to skimp on the real espresso), and the texture luxurious without being heavy, moist without being soggy with just a hint of chocolate. I didn't even miss the booze, though I'd be curious to see what it would be like with it....next time.

Thanks, Paolo! And thanks to you all for reading. See ya next time. I'm feeling like some corned beef....

A Chef By Any Other Name Still Reeks of Garlic (a semantic comedy)

2012-02-28T06:23:00.000-08:00

There's an old joke that goes, "A chef is just a cook who doesn't have to wash his own dishes."

Now, while I don't know that I subscribe to this view fully, I stopped doing dishes years ago just to be on the safe side. But it begs an interesting question: what IS the difference between a chef and a cook? And why do chefs get so riled up when they're confused with their lowly line-bretheren?

I mean, do Neurosurgeons let out an exasperated sigh when someone asks them about a cough they've been having?

Do accounts receivable clerks feel this way when they get asked to do someone's taxes?

Do UFC fighters get angry when they're confused with just another douchebag wearing a Tapout shirt?

Ever call a nanny a 'babysitter'?

And I wonder if deep down inside, musicians who've studied, honed, and earned degrees in their craft long for some other term to distinguish themselves from the folks who plug in a guitar and learn a few chords...

So what is it, anyway? Is it a degree? A magical piece of paper that says, "This guy knows what he's talking about"? Is it the amount of hours a day you work? Is it what people call you when you're at work? Maybe what's on the top of your paycheck? Is it the funny hat?

It's the funny hat, isn't it?

I've never been a fan of the funny hat. Makes me feel....I dunno. Pretentious maybe? I always went for the baseball cap (you do have to have your head covered, after all), and lately I've taken to rocking a bandana (it's a little cooler, temperature wise, and makes me look more Mexican - always important for your kitchen cred). But back to the question at hand: What's the difference between a Chef and a Cook?

I'm sure there are a few theories and ideas, and feel free to share yours in the comments section, but for me it comes down to responsibility. Who's ass is on the line when the shit hits the fan? There's your chef. All the folks that he has help him? Those are the cooks. And yes, he's responsible for them, too.

A chef is responsible for the conceptualization of dishes (even if he's using an outside recipe). Responsible for the procuring, proper storage, handling and utilization of ingredients. If he's not doing it himself, he's overseeing the process and ultimately responsible for it.

But wait....isn't that what YOU do at home? Don't you decide what to make, go to the store, pick out your food, prep it and cook it? Does that mean you're a chef and are deserving of the fancy hat and white coat?

Well.....yeah.

Fuck yeah. Why not?

It's your kitchen! You're in charge. You can't blame someone else if the meal sucks (maybe your mom). You made that food with your own two hands, heart, and love (if you're doing it right) and that makes you a chef. Taking the time, taking the responsibility for the quality of your food, figuring out what makes the best ingredient, learning a little technique to bring the best out of those ingredients, learning a little bit (often through experience) about flavor pairings to make the ones you use more effective. Most of all: give a shit. You're feeding people; this is sacred work you're doing and all of these things are what distinguish a chef from a cook.

Now when someone balks at doing the dishes, you can just point to your funny hat; "Sorry....I'd love to help, but rules is rules."

Ultimately though: Cook.....Chef. Does it really matter?

Just get your ass in the kitchen and make something good.

Squashed and Found (a recipe)

2012-02-24T20:59:00.001-08:00

Today's Specials: Desire for Comfort Food on a Snowy Day, garnished with a Handful of Warming Indian Spices.

Set to the Tune of: Bon Iver's "Flume"

Well this is a first for me, Braisers. Normally I take some pics, write some words and post some blogs...often a few days after the actual events being documented occurred. But this is the first time in Braised in Captivity history (both months worth) that I am enjoying the fruits of my labor whilst writing the blog.

I like it already.

It all started last night. I'm strolling though the produce section of my grocery store looking for some good ideas when I see these little acorn squash. Only about the size of a baseball, they're kinda soft (not in a bad way) and really heavy for their size. And it struck me....I haven't roasted me some squash in a long time. It was time to change that. It was when I realized that I had a few things in my fridge I needed to rid myself of that I came to this recipe.

And so I present to you, dear readers: Roasted Acorn Squash Soup.

Yer gonna need:

3 small Acorn Squash

4 Tbl Butter

1/2 of 1 Medium Onion, chopped

2 Tbl Chicken Base

1 Tsp (about 3 cloves) garlic, crushed

2 Tsp Ground Cumin

2 Tsp powdered Ginger, or 1 Tsp of freshly grated

2 Tsp Ground Coriander

1 Tsp Cinnamon

2 Tsp Tumeric

1 Tbl Curry Powder

1/2 Cup Dry White Wine (optional)

1 Pint Heavy Cream

Milk as needed (any % will do)

Salt & Pepper to taste

Ground clove to garnish (or nutmeg if you'd prefer)

special equipment: Blender (either hand or countertop)

total cooktime: 1 hour (includes roasting squash)

yields about 1 1/2 liters - 4 to 6 servings

Step 1: Melt your butter (either on the stove or in a little dish in the microwave), also go ahead and preheat your oven to 350 degrees.

Step 2: Halve your squash and using just a regular table spoon, scoop out all the guts. These were nice and fresh, so this was really easy going.

Then spoon some of your butter into the cavities of your squash and using a pastry brush (or just your fingers, ya sissy) spread the butter all over the inner surface of the squash halves. Usually the squash room temp or lower so the butter will actually re-solidify and stay in place.

Next sprinkle some Kosher salt and a couple grinds of pepper.

Arrange them on a lined, rimmed baking sheet face down. Then place them in your preheated oven.

For how long? Till they're done of course.

These took about a half an hour, but since were talking about an agricultural product, yours may vary. But don't worry, the margin for error is pretty wide. You'll know they're done when the flesh is soft and....well....cooked-feeling. A little poke or pinch can let you know all you need to know. If you pull them out and they're not completely done, you can finish in the microwave or by putting them back into the oven.

When they come out, you'll be tempted to play around with em and pick em up and stuff. Don't. The steam inside is still cooking them. Plus they're way too hot to be able to handle for the next step, so just leave em alone until they're cool enough to handle.

Another indicator is that they'll sort of deflate and get a little wrinkly. They may also release a little fluid. All totally normal and desirable. You'll also notice the butter has browned a little bit and all of it smells amazing!

Congrats! You've just roasted squash! They're perfectly fine to be eaten right now and they'll be delicious, but we have grander goals in mind.

Which leads us to....

Step 3: Using a spoon (sure, go ahead and use the one you used to scoop out the squash guts), scrape out all the flesh and discard the skins.

Step 4: Add your butter to your sauce pot and rewarm it until hot or any foaming subsides. Then add your chopped onions and sautee.

Incidentally you can add carrots, celery, parsnips, peppers, or whatever else you happen to enjoy at this stage....but I didn't have any of that stuff hanging around so I stuck with just the onions.

Now, I like to have a little color on my onions for this dish, so I sautee until the onions are light brown around the edges.

Next add the garlic, spices (except the clove), and chicken base. Stir until you can smell the aromas of the spices and a 'nutty' butter smell.

Step 5: Deglaze with the white wine if using, and reduce. You'll know you're in the right neighborhood when a spatula or spoon ran across the bottom of the pan leaves a trail that stays put. Also notice we don't have anything sticking to the bottom....if there's any part of this that's tricky it's this. Reducing till nearly dry without burning. But I have faith in you guys.

If you're not using the wine, just go ahead and skip to...

Step 6: Add your cream and your roasted squash pulp. Simmer for a few minutes (about 10) and poke around with a spoon until the squash softens even more and incorporates itself into the liquid a bit. It'll still be very lumpy.

This is also a great time to check your seasoning. Add more of whatever you need to make it taste the way you want.

Note: if you're adding more of either the fresh garlic or ginger, you'll need to simmer until those ingredients are fully cooked. Or you can use powdered.

Step 7: We're gonna blend this into rich, smooth, and creamy goodness. I'm using an emersion blender because it was easiest for me...but you can toss all this into a regular blender and it'll be just as good if not better. I like the hand blender because I can use it to add a little air into the mix to lighten the whole thing up. I don't know that I would use a food processor as it doesn't get it quite as fine and smooth as a blender, but if you don't mind a little chunkiness in your soup, I say go for it. Add any milk you need to make the blending easier. Ladle into bowls and you're ready to go.

I garnished with a little green onion and a couple sprinkles of the clove. This is exactly what was needed on a chili February morning.

A few notes to remember:

*This procedure can be done with just about any winter squash (size and roasting times will vary)

*It's much easier to thin a too-thick soup than thicken a too-thin soup, so err on the side of too thick. You can always add milk, stock or even water later on to thin out.

*I know it's Lent for some of you right now, and the chicken base may not fit in with your religious beliefs. Not to worry, just sub vegetable base in for the chicken and you'll have the Pope's approval!

See ya next time, Braisers!!

I Got Roux, Babe (an addendum)

2012-02-16T09:15:00.000-08:00

Set to the tune of Miles Davis' 'Round Midnight

Ok, my lovelies, you know how to make gravy now, but what you may not know is that once you've gotten this technique of making a roux down....the sauce world opens up and invites you in with the splendor of a red-carpeted awards show (only you don't have to put up with Pauly Shore).

Here's what I mean. You've got your white roux (1:1 Ratio of fat to flour) and it will thicken any liquid you want....why just limit yourself to stock? And (though it's magical) why just limit yourself to gravy. So here's handy-dandy little guide to some cool stuff you can do just by knowing how to make a gravy.

Note: without pan drippings, some of these are sauces, but they're just as delicious.

White Roux Sauces:

*Bechamel (White Sauce): roux, milk
*Sauce Creme: roux, milk (Bechamel) finished with cream
*Sauce Mornay: roux, milk (Bechamel) finished with cheese (gruyere, parmesan, etc)
*Sauce Soubise: roux, milk (Bechamel), sauteed onion puree
*Veloute: roux, chicken stock
*Sauce Supreme: roux, stock, mushroom (either mushroom liquid or minced fresh mushrooms)
*Sauce Allemande: egg yolk, stock, mushroom liquid, lemon juice whisked into prepared veloute, reduce
*Herbed Cream Sauce: Veloute or Bechamel with herbs thrown in it

Brown Roux Sauces:

*Sauce Espagnole (Brown Sauce or Gravy if made with pan drippings): roux, aromatics, beef stock
*Red Wine Sauce: roux, dry red wine, aromatics, beef stock
*Sauce Chasseur: roux, brown chicken or beef stock, mushrooms
*Sauce Godart: roux, brown sauce, prosciutto, white wine
*Sauce Robert: roux, beef stock or brown sauce, onion, white wine, Dijon mustard....finish with cream and you've got your classic Beef Stroganoff sauce.

And this is just a scratch on the surface of the tip of the iceberg, folks. The French took the idea of the sauce (which had been around since ancient Roman times) and ran with it....and consequently, almost anything can be, and has been a sauce....and the French have a difficult-to-pronounce name for it. In fact, in the 19th century, they (specifically two giants of the culinary world: Antonin Cereme and Auguste Escoffier) even codified a system of sauces from which all other sauces are derived from that is still in use today. These are called the Mother Sauces and they are:

*Veloute - Stock-based Sauces
*Bechamel - Dairy-Based Sauces
*Espagnole - Meat/Beef-based Sauces
*Hollandaise/Mayonnaise - Emulsified and Egg-based Sauces
*Tomato - um....Tomato-based Sauces

We'll get into the other two at a later date, but I want you to see that just from making a roux and adding some liquid to it, you already know 3 of the 5 mother sauces....and a HUGE selection of derivatives. So while other people may be content with their meat being plain, or.....ugh....a little packet-based sauce, you, dear readers will live your culinary dreams in style. My readers are the most brilliant...

Thanks again for reading.

So You Wanna Make a Kickass Gravy? (a tutorial for the gravy-tationally challenged)

2012-02-16T07:40:00.000-08:00

Today's Specials: A Stew of Apology for Taking a Whole Week to Post with a Hunch It'll Be Worth The Wait

Set to the Tune of Beck's "Mixed Bizness"

I get asked a lot of things:

"Rob, how do I choose the right knife?"

"Rob, do you have any recipes for a college student living on a budget who still wants foie gras with his ramen noodles?"

"Rob, would you please get your hand out of there?"

But by far the most requested is, "How do I make a decent gravy?" Well have no, fear, Braisers. You friend and humble narrator is here to show you the ins and outs of it all.

but first a cautionary tale

We've all been to that meal haven't we? The turkey or roast is all sliced up, looking like something to which you want to make passionate and thorough mouth love. The veggies are cooked but still flavorful with just the right amount of give-back. The mashed potatoes are creamy AND fluffy at the same time. That's right....potatoes that defy the laws of physics. And then....this...this....abomination is unceremoniously jettisoned onto your plate. Shitty gravy. You know...the lumpy kind. Or the greasy kind....or (and I swear I actually saw this.....in a blurry CIA photo - like Sasquatch or a UFgoddamnO because it's so rare and amazing): Lumpy AND greasy gravy.

Ho.

Lee.

Shit.

This mass of gelatinous evil doesn't love you. It won't respect you in the morning. If given half a chance it'd probably rape your uncle. In front of his favorite TV show, no less. No, you don't need that. I respect you too much to allow you to either eat, or allow your guests to eat that sort of culinary manslaughter charge. So we're gonna do it right.

Yer Gonna Need:

Some Fat

Some Flour

Some Liquid

I know what you're saying, "Hey Rob!! What the hell, guy (which we all know is code for 'douchebag')? Why aren't you giving us actual amounts!?!?"

And here's why, dickfer.

I have no idea how many you're gonna be serving and I would hate for anyone to miss out on the kickass gravy you're about to make, so instead of rigid measurements, I'm gonna give you a ratio:

1:1:8 That is, 1 part fat to 1 part flour and 8 parts liquid. This is the golden gravy ratio and is almost foolproof (of course now that I've said that one of you is gonna find a way to screw it up). But what that translates to is:

2 Tbl Fat

2 Tbl Flour

16 Tbl (1 cup) Liquid

(yields about 1 cup)

or if you're serving a small army:

1 Cup Fat

1 Cup Flour

8 Cups (1/2 Gallon) Liquid

(yields about 1/2 gallon)

Now a cool thing about knowing the ratio, is that you can reverse engineer it. Meaning that if you know how much fat you have, or how much gravy you want, you can adjust the other amounts easily.

Just The Fats, Ma'am

So what kind of fat/oil can you use for gravy? Turns out you can use just about any of them; butter, chicken fat, beef tallow, duck fat, vegetable oil, olive oil.....YES. You CAN make an olive oil gravy. And, YES!! It absolutely will suck! I like to stick to animal fats enhanced with butter, which is what we've got here

FLOUR? I Barely Know Her!!

For the purposes of this recipe, we'll be using plain 'ol all purpose flour. It provides the prefect amount of protein and thickening power. If you'd like to use other flours for flavor or nutritional reasons, you may have to adjust the amount slightly...here, we're going with the plain 'ol all purpose stuff.

Liquid Assests

The great thing about the thickening medium, is that it doesn't care what liquid it thickens. It's not prejudiced like your grandmother when she's drunk. Water, stock, booze, anything will be thickened by this method so, again, sky is the limit. As long as the sky is a liquid....yeah, I don't know either. At any rate, we're using a vegetable stock fortified with a little chicken stock.

Alright, you've stuck with me through the dry stuff. Let's get to it. Here's what we're using today:

From left to right: Used roasting pan, gravy separator, butter (I took the liberty of sauteeing the giblets - that little bag of alien meat that comes shoved inside the turkey with the neck - in it before we started), all-purpose flour, coarsely chopped garlic, vegetable stock (more than you'll actually need), coarsely chopped thyme.

Here's how it usually works out:

Once you've roasted your (in this case) turkey, you're gonna have a pan that looks roughly like this. This is exactly what you want. All those little browned bits and juices are the hero of your gravy. It's called fond and you should be fond of it....geddit? I....nevermind.

Note, this entire process is the same regardless of the meat you're cooking

Take that bad boy and place it over two burners if it'll fit and only one if it won't, and turn on some low heat. Using a whisk or wooden spoon, scrape up some of the fond. Be careful not to start burning this stuff, otherwise your gravy will taste like it. And no one will ever fall in love with you again if you serve burnt turkey goo gravy.

Once things start warming up again and loosening up, add the garlic and thyme. If there isn't enough rendered fat in the pan (you shouldn't have any dry spots), add a little butter to fill in. Keep stirring and loosening. Oh, and you don't need to get all vigorous on this....just a nice conversation with the whisk 'Hey, how are you...how's yer mom doing?" . We're not discussing politics.....yet.

Add a little bit of the stock (you won't need all of it) to the mix. This will help dissolve some of the pan drippings. It also helps loosen up still more. The fancy cooking word for it is deglazing and you're doing it just like those fancy folks on the Food Network.

Then just let that goodness simmer for a little bit....just a few minutes is all you need. While that's going on lemme talk little about that gravy separator:

Now, Braisers, I'm no fan of one trick ponies. You know, those things that perform one function pretty well, but just that one function? Cherry-pitters, strawberry-hullers, ...that band, Everclear. But a gravy separator is an exception I'm willing to make...partially because it makes the job a LOT easier, but mostly because I make a lot of gravy. Besides, since it has a few graduations on the side, it can double as a regular wet measuring cup. And I DO suggest getting the variety with graduations because then you can see at a glance exactly how much fat you have and (using your golden gravy ratio of 1:1:8) determine how much flour you'll need.

Plus they're pretty inexpensive at your local Store-That-I-Would-Be-Happy-To-Mention-But-They're-Not-Giving-Me-Money-So-Fuckem.

So you take all that rich tasty goodness and pour it into your gravy separator. You'll see the fat and liquids are very clearly distinct and easily accessible.

Incidentally, as a result of deglazing, your roasting pan should be relatively clean.

See...the gravy I'm teaching you to make is courteous and kind. Helping you do the dishes and it's not even made yet. That's love if I've ever seen it.

*********************************************************************************

Ok, gang. Here's where the rubber meets the road. It's time to get our roux on. What's a roux (pronounced rhoo)? Simple...it's just the 1:1 ratio of fat and flour, cooked to get rid of the raw flour flavor, and used as a thickener. There are several kinds of roux from white, to blonde, to brown, to brick/black. They each have their own unique flavor, color, and thickening power. For today's roux, since we're using this for turkey gravy, I'd like to keep it relatively light, so we're gonna go with a white roux (lightest)......just making the transition into blonde (2nd lightest).

Step 1: Heat up your fat (I added a touch of the butter for flavor and to get to the amount I needed). Medium High heat, here, gang.

Step 2: Sprinkle in the flour while whisking.

tight and clumpy

The texture we're looking for is that of wet sand. Here's something a little interesting....while you're whisking/stirring it'll be really tight and clumpy....but when you let it sit for a few seconds...it seems to relax....that's when you know you've gotten it right.

Now you can turn down your heat a little and just let that raw flour taste cook out.

relaxed once stirring stops

Step 3: Here we go, Braisers! It's showtime! Starting with your reserved fond liquid, whisk in your stock a little at a time. NOW'S the time to talk politics with your roux (and to increase the heat back up to Medium High)....add some stock, whisk vigorously until thickened, add more stock, whisk vigorously until thickened....repeat until you're satisfied with the consistency of your gravy.

Now lower or turn off your heat....you're done....and the world will sing your praises.

Now before you ask....No. I'm not just gonna leave you with a flat-looking pic of gravy in a pan as your last image of Braised In Captivity: Gravy Edition. I'm gonna put it in context for you....but first, a few things to rememer:

*As you cook your gravy the proteins in the flour and stock will sorta come to the surface and are easily removed. If you have the time (and it's ok if you don't), let this process happen for a while. Cook your gravy on very low heat for 15 mins at least....and up to an hour. The result will be an incredibly smooth, velvety gravy that men will want to be, and women will want to be with.

*The gravy will thicken further as it cools, so serve it a little thinner than you'd like

*On the flip side to that coin, it's a lot easier to thin out a too-thick gravy than to thicken up a too-thin gravy....adjust accordingly

*Your liquid and roux should be at opposing temperatures. That means that if your roux is hot (which it is at this point), then your liquid should be cool (room temperature is 'cool' in this case). We won't get into the hows and whys here, but trust me....it works better this way.

*Have a spoon on hand to get into the corners of your pot that you're making this in if your whisk is too broad to do the job.

So without further ado...our gravy.

Thanks again, Braisers. Hope this one was a helpful one. As always, there's the Facebook Page, and E-Mail subscription at the top of this page.

Keep cookin.

Ode To Kitchen (a love letter to my constant companion)

2012-02-09T20:58:00.000-08:00

My love....my darling.
How many nights I've laboured, heavy with the weight of too much drink and conversation

So many laughs....so many tears....
And one and only one constant, my sweet, sweet angel.

You.

You've hosted with me through family dinners, through impromptu jam sessions, through heated debate and pumpkin pie-laden erotic debauchery.
You've reveled with me in the joy of many a successful party, you've nursed me from the brink of soul-crushing depression at a casserole gone horribly awry.
You've seen my first bread-baking
My first sushi
My first bastilla

My first....my goodness love, who's keeping track anymore.

I look around at your deeply-hued walls and I revel in the perfection of your imperfections. Your lines are not as true as they were, my precious. There's the floor tile bearing the faintest ghost of an amoeba-like purple stain with a hairline crack in the center where I dropped a bottle of wine....The deep dent in the wall where Orange Blossom got so excited after tasting something I'd made on your range that she scared the cat who knocked over a bar stool....a deep gouge in your floor from a friendly wrestling match combined with too much booze.

Oh....the booze....

I've held you close through remodels and upgrades....repaintings....the callous removal and rehanging of decor...

My most exquisite beauty....I've never seen you look better than when you've got an antique Jack Daniels poster (tastefully framed of course...you're always so tasteful) hung upon your lightly glistening semi-glossed plaster. Sometimes, I will admit, I've been neglectful in the patching up and repainting of those blessed nail holes, and that backsplash tile that escaped only to dash itself against the cold surface of the sink remains unreplaced....but they serve only to enhance your natural charisma. And as a result, do people not walk through your threshold and sigh with an appreciative "wow....this is a gorgeous Kitchen"?

We both know they do, love. We both know.

And so, my glorious bastion of culinary and social eloquence, it embarrasses and shames me to think of the times that have been less than faithful. The nights away, boozing in public....the dinners and clandestine lunches spent in other kitchens, to say nothing of my long-term relationship with that floosie at work....my god it fills my heart with grief. I'm not too proud to admit to you, dear kitchen, that in the past I've been tempted by the pictures in those.......magazines. The tawdry Gourmets, the Bon Appetites, the Food Arts, and the Saveurs. With their fickle promises of stainless steel surfaces (adorned with little yellow stars proclaiming to the world their energy efficiency) , magnetic knife strips, their ample
(and probably cosmetically enhanced) cabinetry, and (dare I say it) island work stations complete with sink. It's faucet arcing unnaturally and hedonistically, offering a removable spray attachment.

NO! My beautiful....no. These things are false....they do not hold a candle to your warmth and welcoming aura. The old memories only good songs can remind you of. There are a million "Tik Toks" and"Superbass'" but you're the only one who's "God Only Knows".... Trash compactors are for the slothful....marble countertops would only serve to dull my knives. With them I could never invite my parents over for dinner....I could never allow several drunken, scantily-clad ladies to prance around to the sounds of 80's pop tunes and my Electro Glam Euro Trash Pandora station. And without that....what IS a kitchen good for?

I can't help but smile when I think of all the time I've spent inside of you...peeking hungrily into your fridge...warming the whole house so much with our stove-top frivolity that our party-guests had no choice but to step out into the 90 degree weather on a summer night to 'cool off'....Nights where, though the belly was full, the vision still blurred.

And so I look to the future, dear, sweet, wonderful Kitchen. A toast. To the sound of popping corks, the clinking of glasses, the flipping of cookbook pages, the whir of the Kitchenaid, and the giggle of boiling water. I want you to know that no matter what happens....I'll always cherish our time together. You mean the world to me and my food is better for having known you. And when I'm long gone, I hope your walls echo with the specter of the good times had and those fiercely loved.

Thank you.
From the bottom of my heart, thank you.

Yours,
R

Duck Breast Prosciutto (the rise and fall of the breast meat mummies)

2012-02-06T19:00:00.000-08:00

Today's Specials: Sauteed Fillet of Continuing Excitement w/ a Noticeable Predilection Towards Salty Meat

Set to the tune of Cold War Kids' "Hang Me Out To Dry"

It's been a wild couple weeks of curing meat in the Captivity Kitchen! We took on bacon, and we've made some duck confit (which we'll be checking on here in a few weeks)....but we had all these breasts hanging around (incidentally, I can't decide if breasts 'hanging around' is a good thing or not. It sorta reminds me of baseballs dangling in turkey skin...and you are absolutely welcome for that visual aid), and taking another recipe out of Rhulman & Polcyn's Charcuterie book, I decided Duck Breast Prosciutto was the way to go....

Step One: As per usual....roll it in salt. Then dump a bunch of salt on top...yeah, you heard me.

Now were gonna let that sit for a day or so, then rinse off the breasts and allow them to air dry a little bit.

Step Two: Wrap them and tie them up in cheesecloth so they become little breast meat mummies (another good band name). I used the butcher's knot technique I learned in good 'ol culinary school, but anything works so long as it stays all wrapped up. Do KNOT be concerned! Heh....did you see what I did there? Heh....'knot'....I....huh? Oh, yeah....

Now, you're gonna hang these little guys up in a fridge or other cool space for about a week or until they feel uniformly dehydrated (you could use a dehydrator...but what are you some sort of pussy?).

Then?

Step Three: Pull em down unwrap them, of course..the suspense alone must be killing you! You should have something that resembles hunk a of nasty-looking duck breast jerky. How do you know it's dry enough? It should make an audible, and hard-sounding thunk when you tap it on your cutting board. It should be slightly pliable...but definitely something you'd pass on if it were handed to you to eat. Which brings us to how to eat it.

Step Four: You want to slice it VERY thin and on a slight bias to maximize an ideal meat-to-fat ratio. I find it's a little easier to cut from the fat side, but whatever you find easiest is what you should do. Whichever way you go, you'll find the last millimeter on the meat side to be the toughest to get through. You'll also find the breast fully cured and displaying a gorgeous deep maroon color. Like a wine, almost. That's when you know you've done it right.

I drizzled mine with just a little olive oil and a touch of pesto and ate it right there on the spot. So good! Like sex, but you won't feel the burning gaze of your pets as they silently judge you from across the room (note: may not apply if you keep ducks as pets). AND, it's great as a snack on it's own or placed atop some bread with some Gruyere. Hell, roll up some bacon in it and go to town....I won't judge.

It'll stay good in the fridge for a few weeks and last in the freezer until you remember again that you put it there.

Thanks again, Braisers! Till next time! Oh, and just a little business; I've added a handy-dandy little box at the top of this page so that you may, if you wish, subscribe to receive updates via E-mail.

And as always, there's the Facebook Page.

Do it. Don't do it. S'up to you.

(2nd Movement - Fantasia - Finale) The Bacon Chronicles, pt. 2

2012-02-02T02:56:00.000-08:00

When last we left our hero, he was hanging precariously off a cliff, his arch nemesis Dr. Monsanto cackling maniacally above. Will he hold out, folks? CAN he hold out? Will he survive and what will be left of him!?! Find out in this, the next exciting installment of Braised in Captivity!!!

Set to the tune of Tom Waits' "Filipino Box Spring Hog"

This is it, gang...the exciting and surprise-filled conclusion to what I've been playfully referring to as The Saga of Baconalia (I don't really call it that). So let's get to it...

So this is what we left off with last time. The pork belly has been cut to size, trimmed, and rubbed with our curing rub (the details of which can be found here.)

Day 1

This is after day one. You can see that a surprising amount of liquid has been released. So far so good!

Day 7

I had the plan that I was gonna document this process photographically day by day...but honestly, Braisers, all the photos looked pretty much the same....the meat darkened slightly, a little more liquid was released....but it all pretty much looked the same. The feel of the meat was a different story. There was a difference between the raw meat and the cured end product. It was firmer...not as 'flabby' feeling I guess would be the right way to say it. By the end of day 7, I wasn't satisfied with the degree of firmness of the pork belly, so I let it go for another couple of days. The end result was this:

Day 10

As you can see, there's a good amount of liquid and large portions of the meat has darkened. It felt uniformly firm (not stiff...it IS still raw meat after all). Time to smoke!

Ok, now just pull out the 'ol smoker and....wait....did I forget that I don't own a smoker again? Damn. Looks like we're gonna have to be creative.

Soaking Applewood chips prior to smoking

I chose Applewood. I figured I could get them started to smoke on the range, then add the cured pork belly - separated by racks before wrapping the whole lot in foil and finishing in the oven.

After just a few minutes on the range, the chips were smoking nicely. It was time to lay down the racks, put the pork bellies on, cover, and wrap in foil.

The procedure in Charcuterie stipulated that the pork bellies were to be roasted into a low temp oven (200 degrees or so) until they reached an internal temperature of 150 degrees....about 2 and a half to 3 hours. The smoking was optional....but I figured why the hell not, right?

Oh, I damn near forgot to tell you guys. I did the pork belly three ways. One was just the curing rub and nothing else. Another was with the cure rub and a good amount of pepper (pictured). The third was with a mesquite rub I had laying around the kitchen. It's usually used for BBQ.

After about 3 hours I checked the temp on the bellies. As you can see, they were split into two groups. This is purely for space and time constraints. If you have a smoker large enough to accommodate this amount, don't be afraid to do it all at once. In group one (foreground, three bellies), the temp was perfect. 150.2 degrees. I mean just LOOK at it! Gorgeous.

Still pliable...mostly pink but still kinda translucent. Now it's fully cooked at this point...so you can eat it just like it is right out of the oven....and that's exactly what I did....so delicious. It was like sex...only it'd make you breakfast. Literally.

The smoking method didn't really do much though....so I know I'm gonna have to come up with something different next time around. But for now I was just gonna have to be content with what may have been the best bacon I've had in a long time. So with my stamp of approval, it was sliced up, portioned out, and cooked.

So in the end we got

this

To look like....

this!!

Not too shabby for a first time out....but this was just the first group (I had two, remember)....and that was the mesquite group. I was SUPER eager to try this perfect bacon with that mesquite and light smoke taste.....

.and that's when tragedy struck...

Braisers...maybe it's time for a little story.

When I first started cooking professionally, I was pretty reliant on recipes. Specific measures of ingredients, weights, and cooking times. Then one day the boss asked me to make something on the fly (sans recipe) and I put together a little something or other (what it was isn't important...which is good, cuz I don't remember what it was). As it was going into the oven, I asked "How long do we cook it for?" His response: "Till it's done."

Well....what? What do you mean 'till it's done'...when will THAT be!?!? What kind of bullshit is this?

When I pressed him for something more tangible ("I've gotta KNOW when to take it out of the oven!") he explained that I'd been doing this long enough to know how different kinds and sizes of meat were cooked and for how long. "How long do YOU think it's gonna take?" he asked. "I dunno....30 mins?"

"So check it in 30, jackass."

Just like that, huh? Well....yeah. It came out and I'd estimated properly. An eye opener if there ever was one.

Why am I telling you this? Because when you have a recipe, and it gives you a specific time to cook something, use it as a general guideline but be prepared to take it out early or leave it in a little longer. In other words; cook it till it's done, jackass.

There are so many factors involved; temperature of the meat, quality of oven, size of oven, conventional/convection, shape of meat, the list goes on...and I'd made a rookie mistake. I'd relied too heavily on someone else's assessment. I assumed they knew better than I did. I assumed that because I'd never done this before, my instincts somehow didn't apply.

AND I assumed my oven's thermometer was accurate. *facepalm*

Turns out that side of the oven (it was a double) had decided to run hot that day. When I temped the meat my heart sank...

One hundred.
And
SEVENTY FIVE degrees.

Compare that to the previous pics.

When I picked it up I knew....this was completely different than the other slab. I'd felt this before when I cooked roasts...there was no give. No loving feeling. This meat wouldn't rub your feet after a long day at the office. It wouldn't buy you flowers just because. It wouldn't give you a reach-around even if you asked nicely....you've got needs too, ya know!

No....this mesquite pork belly was cooked. It would never be bacon.

Cutting into it, it was still pretty nice. But more akin to a slow cooked brisket.....which gave me an idea....

OH YEAH. THAT'S MORE LIKE IT

I sliced it up like I did the other slab. Only this time it got some more seasoning and tossed in a pan to crisp up just a little....then some BBQ Sauce....

Who wouldn't want a BBQ Bacon Pork Belly Sandwich? No one I want to know.... I just heard the audible outrage from all of my vegetarian friends. Meh, let em yell....this shit was good! I'll write some bullshit about how a grilled Portobello mushroom cap is a reasonable alternative to a hamburger or something later. Heh...right after I write an entry about why you shouldn't drink scotch. Or why feeding gorgeous women won't pay off....am I right? Eh?

eh.

*ahem*

With the regular, actual bacon I whipped up this little dandy:

Introducing my new friend: The BLT Salad. It's as simple and delicious as it gets, Braisers. It's just some greens (any you'd like, but I went for iceberg, romaine, and spinach), some tomato, crumbled bacon and a drizzle of 1000 Island dressing.

EPILOGUE:

So what have we learned from this excursion into the magical land of cured meats? We'll I don't know about you, but there are a few adjustments I'd make to the process:

1. Rather than using a large covered container to cure the pork belly, I think I'd go with the sealable plastic bag method. The reasons are thus; first, even though uncovering something and flipping the meat isn't DIFFICULT, just flipping the meat without getting your hands dirty I'm sure would make it that much easier. Just flip it before you go to work/school/strip club or whatever and you're set. Also, I think having the meat in more consistent contact with the curing liquid would hasten the process (if you remember, I had to add a couple days to that step).

2. Use the right tool for the job. You want something smoked? Get a smoker. Either that or I'm gonna have to jury-rig a better method....stay tuned on that. I'm sure I'll post something when I find it. Incidentally, if you have suggestions, I'm willing to hear them. If I try and like your idea, not only will I mention it here - thus making you world famous -you'll also receive a FREE subscription to the Braised in Captivity blog!! That's right, folks...you'll get virtually nothing.

3. Check your oven temperature!! Check your meat often (heh heh)....or better yet, get a remote thermometer. The pointy part goes in the meat, the calculator-looking part stays outside the oven and more than likely there's a beepy part that lets you know when the desired temperature is reached.

4. If you mess it up...don't worry. It's bacon, it'll forgive you. It could still turn out to make one of the best sandwiches you ever had. Kinda like a good dog. Wait, what?

Thank you, Braisers, for joining me on this journey! You guys have really been very supportive of this whole food blog mixed with dick and fart jokes thing and I love you all for it. Well...those of you that are hot, anyway.

Don't forget to join the Facebook Page for updates, some exclusive photos, cool cooking videos and articles, and a preview of the next day's blog! Thanks again, and keep yer chin on the good work....or something or other.

I Wanna Duck You Like an Animal (a brief affair in which i learn to love)

2012-01-29T21:18:00.000-08:00

Today's Specials: Roulade of Gratitude, Raised Expectations, & Pride in a Raspberry and Scotch sauce. Garnished with a Penchant for Duck Fat.

Set to the tune of Ween's "I Can't Put My Finger On It"

Gang.

I know we've only been together a short while....but I really feel like I can tell you anything...you've just got that kind of face, I guess. So I'm gonna let you in on a little something about me. You all know I love bacon. But what you may not know is, duck confit comes in a pretty close second. And guess what?!? I got to make both of them this week!! I wish there was a 'scream like a little girl' emoticon!!

I see some of you out there are confused. "What's duck confit?" you may ask. To which I reply, I don't want to know you anymore.

kidding

We're here to learn, right? So I'll tell ya. It's duck legs that have been cured, poached in duck fat, and packed in a container along with the aforementioned fat. That's it.

Did I mention it stays good (and actually improves in flavor) for up to six months? Yeah...true story. Turns out, 'confit' (pronouced CON-fee) is a pretentious-sounding French word for 'preservation'. I could go on about how packing the meat in fat halts oxidation especially when combined with the salt curing blah blah blah.....if you want to know all about it, it's here.

So here's my duck confit adventure.....*cue Indiana Jones Theme.*

Ok, this isn't a recipe for you guys, per se and I'll tell you why. Reason #1, this is the first time I've made duck confit in a sous vide machine* and as of this writing the jury is still out on the results. I certainly wouldn't pass-along information to you without testing and verifying the end-product. If it works out ok, I'll post a recipe later....with some modifications. Which brings us to Reason #2, the method I used to sous vide is......questionable. And not exactly FDA approved, if you know what I mean.** And frankly, I may have fucked it up. But, I made a promise to you dear readers and I intend to keep it. Victories and failures are ours to learn from!

*What the hell is a sous vide (pronounced soo-veed) machine? Simply put, it's a hot water bath that is precisely temperature controlled. You place the food to be cooked in little plastic bags and the bags are immersed in the water for long periods of time until fully cooked. The result is a fully cooked, tender, moist (as no moisture has left the food at any time) and relatively easy product. If you want to learn a little more about the practice, check it out here.

**The traditional method for duck confit is 1, cure the legs for a few hours or a day. 2, heat up some rendered duck fat. 3, pour the fat onto the legs and cook (either on the stove top or in the oven) at a very low temperature (never to exceed 200 degrees). Then put it all into a sealable container and let it ripen. Use it when you want awesomeness. The sous vide method is 1, cure. 2, place into little bags with rendered duck fat. 3, place into water bath and cook for hours (the temperature never exceeding 200 degrees). I....sorta did a hybrid of the two. It's not exactly the safest method (and I don't recommend it), but I figure if something went wrong, we'll know long before it's time to eat this stuff. That's the good news about duck confit. It doesn't KINDOF go bad.....it's rancid meat that's been sitting around for months. My guess is if I didn't do it right, when the time comes to eat this stuff the bacteria would have evolved to the point of sentience and would be able to tell us themselves if they've gone bad. Or it may just get up and walk out on it's own....I guess we'll find out.

So here's how I did it.

We got our ducks in whole....I butchered them and put the legs in one pan, the breasts another. The rest gets roasted and turned into a stock. On the left are (of course) the legs....the breasts have another amazing fate (we'll talk about it in another post - we'll also be talking about breasts in general I imagine).

Then I rubbed them in salt to cure them. This is just salt. Then they're covered and refrigerated for 24 hours. Then they're rinsed off and patted dry. Unfortunately your jackass photographer and humble narrator did not get any pictures of the result of the cure. Suffice to say the meat was darker in color and firmer in general....in other words, cured. They're then put on a wire rack to dry a little further while I prepare the rest of the procedure: Melting rendered duck fat. You can render your own if you'd like....but I was doing a lot of legs here and I wanted to make it as easy on myself as possible so I bought the stuff in 10 lb buckets from the same farm as the ducks. Again, jackass picture boy didn't get a shot of it...but it's basically a tub of fat. White, very soft, creamy. Fat. I accidentally dropped some of it onto a piece of toasted bread and had to eat it (we can't have any waste, now can we?). It was delicious. This was a good idea. So I warmed up the fat in a pot until it was fully clear (didn't take long) and we were ready for the next step. Combining the two.

The legs were layered into my trusty Sous Vide Supreme machine and covered with the now hot fat being (carefully) poured over. According to the machine's thermometer, it was 202 degrees. Slightly high for the need, but perfectly acceptable. The temperature was set to 188 degrees and the lid was placed on it....and we were on our way to Confit-land.

So who wants to hear something funny? Ok, good. I started this whole process around 1pm....I did mention this was a 10+ hour cooking process, right? So about 1130pm rolls around and I have to excuse myself from my drinking companions so I can "check on my duck legs."

I'm not sure how many of them knew what I was talking about....I'm not sure I want to know. But I come back and this is what I see....yes it looks a lil.....strange. But my god...the smell. So. Fucking. Good. Like sex, but in my nose (so exactly like sex).

The only steps left were to pull the duck legs out carefully....they were perfect: Not falling off the bone unless they were carelessly handled (which, incidentally, is just how I like my women). The legs were gently layered in a sealable container, covered with the poaching fat, and placed in an ice bath for quicker chilling. Then into the fridge.

We'll check back in on them in a couple months....

Anyone curious as to what's going on with that bacon?

It's Like Sex, But The Fork and Knife Are Optional (a philosophy)

2012-01-22T19:45:00.000-08:00

Todays Specials: Bacon-wrapped Terrine of Lurid Conversation in an Honesty Sauce garnished with some Sage Advice from a Female Perspective. Served with Sushi.

Set to the tune of Does It Offend You, Yeah?s "With a Heavy Heart (I Regret to Inform You)"

"'To Serve Man'......It's a COOKBOOK!!!"

I'm a simple man. I like the little things in life....a sharp knife, rendered duck fat, old episodes of The Twilight Zone...

Oh, and a woman who EATS!

And I don't mean the casual, laissez-faire fork and knife eating. Everyone does that....it doesn't impress me. No, I'm talking gums deep in a turkey leg. I'm talking nachos by the fistful. I'm talking two handed BBQ annihilation with juices running down her arms and off her elbows; indecipherable noises coming from somewhere deep inside the core of her being. Sounds usually reserved for wedding nights or lead singers of metal.

You know, the kind of woman who knows how to lick a bone clean....

**Disclaimer: Ok gang...time to be real here for a second. It's not gonna get any cleaner or more appropriate for work from here....so if you're offended already by the double entendres and lurid epicurean imagery, then I'd suggest you stop reading and go back to your funny pictures of cats with spelling errors and poor grammar. End Disclaimer**

Ok, how many of you stuck around? Good.

Now here's what I really want to say now that we've gotten rid of the prudes.

Food is sex. There's no way around it, and I can't say it any more simply. Food is sex....food is fucking.

I mean, other than cooking, what other activity do you offer a part of yourself (and if you're cooking properly, you're putting something of yourself into every dish) for someone else put it into their bodies?

Maybe Scrabble....maybe.

I was recently told by a good friend of mine (to protect her identity we'll call her “Orange Blossom” - that is actually her real name) that: “I refuse to have sex with a man if I can't stand the way he eats.”

That's a very telling statement....and, reflecting, I'm guilty of the same thing. I can't tell you how many nights I've spent sitting across from a woman who is gorgeous....or would be if she hadn't ordered a salad with light dressing and 'just water'....and then spent 30 minutes of my life that I'll never get back pushing it to and fro on her plate with the same look on her face that I'm sure she gets when she accidentally drops something in the toilet. I mean, let's face it, if she's looking that way at her salad, what's she gonna do when she sees your naked body? And no bullshit, ladies....if you ordered just a salad, you probably don't want to have either inside you. Not really, anyway. Though, I'm sure Ranch dressing would help....

The point is this: You can tell a lot about a person by the way they eat. And I'm not just talking to the men. Ladies, if your date salts his food before he tastes it, not only do you need to question his worth as a person, but be prepared for strictly missionary position and occasional orgasms. Maybe on your birthday he'll get creative....but he's still a prick for salting his food preemptively. You don't need that kind of aggravation...plus he probably kills kittens. And gentlemen, if a chick you're into doesn't want to try new foods, then the sex you two will have will probably not require a towel...and that's just sad.

What's that? Your partner eats their steak well done? My condolences....to both you and your genitalia.

Now compare that to the satisfaction I have received on many a night upon hearing sex noises coming from the people I've been lucky enough to cook for. Things like: “MMMmmmmmmmm!!” and: “Oh my fucking, GAWD!!” and: “I need to change my pants” not to mention: “I wonder what Fred Savage is doing these days”.....Simply put: both my most successful dinner parties and my most successful liaisons have required an hour cleanup (always after....never during) and a load of laundry. Hell, one time I needed to run the dishwasher on it's 'Heavy Wash' cycle.

Maybe I'm getting off point here....

Orange Blossom tells me about the time she served her guy sushi off of her naked body....and wasabi burns aside....it was the best sex she'd ever had. She says it was because it made him taste for the first time....which made him come back for seconds.

Then a horror story about the guy that ate his food so fast he was done before anyone else had really gotten started...

Man...I DO love a good double entendre.

Then she tells me about a guy she used to see that made love to the spoon with which he used to eat his ice cream....and that it was telling (and ultimately true) of how he'd perform in the bedroom, but that he was 'finnicky' and 'picky' when it came to meat (“I had to do all the work”) and that was also telling (and also ultimately true). She also said he liked going to Applebee's....but we'll leave that one alone. For now.

Fuck you, Applebee's.

Ahem....

So what does this say about cooking?

Plenty.

Are you afraid to use ingredients or techniques that are foreign to you? That says something.

Do you adhere religiously to recipes? That says something.

Do you go to a new restaurant and ask the chef for his speciality? That says something.
Do you pull a Meg Ryan when your food is perfect? You're my kind of girl.

Marilyn Monroe loved steaks and she used to cook dishes she learned from DiMaggio when friends would come over.

Now I want to be clear about something. I'm not talking overly ornate, elaborate, and technical cooking. It doesn't have to have a million ingredients to be good. No. Good cooking (like sex - are we sensing the theme, here?) does not require great skill or experience....enthusiasm goes a LONG way. There's poetry in a simple meal prepared simply. There's magic in Boeuf Bourguignon (which is a pretentious-sounding French word for Beef Stew). I mean, don't get me wrong, you gotta know some basics: the difference between a simmer and a rolling boil...which muscles to flex for vigorous whisking and which to flex for a gentle stir (and the stamina/patience to accomplish either)...when butter is appropriate (hint: always.) ....and those basics are easily learned, but after that....have fun. Cooking...sex...hell, life isn't a recipe. It's improvisation. Do not be constrained by your ingredients.

Audrey Hepburn claimed to eat pasta and chocolate everyday. Now, while she didn't say if she ate them together....I can respect that.

So what have we learned, Braisers? Besides not to come to my dinner parties without protection? Which reminds me:

**Public Service Announcement: Remember kids, always, ALWAYS use a napkin. Every time. Keep a wetnap in your wallet or purse if you need to. It's better to have it and not need it than need it and not have it. End Public Service Announcement.**

We've learned to have fun with it. Experiment. Enjoy. Sometimes you won't like it....that's ok. Sometimes you'll make a weird face. Sometimes you'll be disgusted. Sometimes you'll need a drink to wash that flavor out. All of it is ok. Keep putting it in your mouth.

Oh...and try some new food every now and again, too.

But now I gotta go...Orange Blossom is coming over and I wanna hear her make some noise.

Rind of Bleu (a recipe)

2012-01-20T18:46:00.000-08:00

Set to the tune of Bob Dylan's "Tombstone Blues"

"I am in the kitchen with the Tombstone Bleu"

I'm gonna level with ya, Braisers. I'm not a fan of bleu cheese. I've just never been able get beyond the dry/tart/sour/gym sock flavor that foodies seem to love paired with cranberries and walnuts and pears and people who liked your favorite band before they 'sold out.'

No, no. Not my scene at all. So bleu cheese and I just never hit it off.

It wasn't until I went to a restaurant here in town some years back. I had a friend working there and a cabbage and bleu cheese soup was suggested to me, as it was one of the specials. I immediately made a face of someone who has clearly sat in something wet and warm and continued to look at the menu. "No, no, no....just try it. Tell ya what, let me get you a small bowl and you can have a taste...if you don't like it, no problem. But it's really good! Even if you don't like bleu cheese."

Ugh. Fine.

You know how I feel about people that won't try new things....so I tried the damn soup. And you know what? It was delicious! The cabbage tamed the bleu and the creaminess brought it all together for me. Add a couple bursts of caraway here and there and it was a delightful surprise. My dinner companion, That Bitch (you remember her, right?) also enjoyed it a great deal. We enjoyed the rest of our meal and had a lovely evening....but that soup was nagging at the back of my mind. Where did it get the nerve of making me....and I can't believe I'm saying this.....enjoy bleu cheese?

Bastard soup. What did it have up it's creamy, caraway-kissed sleeve?

So I resolved then and there that I would no longer fear the dreaded foodstuff (I mean it's CHEESE after all....now bad could it really be?). Instead I would learn to make it myself and tweak it even further to see if I could get others to enjoy it as well. And that's what I did....I reproduced it as I remembered it tasting that night.

So now when someone says they don't like bleu cheese, I have a secret weapon. I still think your favorite band sucks now, though.

Don't let the name fool you. The soup is pretty bangin'.....even if you don't like bleu cheese or cabbage. Just try it. Don't be a pussy.

You're gonna need:

2 Tbl Butter

3-4 lightly packed cups of Shredded Cabbage

2 Tbl Chicken Base

7 cups Heavy Cream

8-10 oz Bleu Cheese*

5 sprigs of fresh Thyme

Pinch of Caraway Seed

Salt & White Pepper to taste

*I used Maytag Bleu for this recipe, but just about any variety will do. Beware different brands, and varieties will have different strengths. It's all about taste, not about a recipe.

Step 1: Melt butter in a medium, heavy-bottomed sauce pan. Once the foam subsides, add cabbage.

What were looking for here, gang, is to sweat the cabbage, not brown it (although a little bit is ok). So keep the heat pretty low, and stir a lot until the cabbage starts to release some liquid. Keep tossing it around and cover the pot for a few minutes until the cabbage is completely soft.

A quick word about the cabbage. You can use pre-shredded or whole and shred it yourself. I've done both and either one works beautifully.

Step 2: Pull the leaves off of all but two Thyme sprigs and add them (the leaves, jackass) along with the Chicken Base, & Caraway Seed.

Stir it around a little, and then add your cream.

Step 3: Turn up your flame slightly until the cream comes to a light simmer....you don't want to go any more than a simmer on this or you run the risk of curdling, and overflowing. And cook for about 10 mins after the simmer starts....we want to reduce slightly. Stir it occasionally...taste it. Once the flavors impart themselves into the cream you're ready to add your bleu cheese. I like to crumble mine in - and keep tasting as I go. You can always add more...but it's pretty damn hard to take bleu cheese out of the soup once it's in there. Plus adding it in increments makes the cheese melt a little faster. Keep stirring until the cheese has all melted and you're good to go. Lower the heat if it starts simmering again. Taste it...season with salt and white pepper....add more bleu cheese if you want....it's your life, you don't need me to run it for you.

Garnish with the Thyme sprigs and impress your friends and influence members of your family.

See ya next time, Braisers!

(Overture and First Movement) I'm Cookin' MC's Like a Pound of....

2012-01-18T17:36:00.000-08:00

BACON!!!!

No, not that one...

....there we go

You know it. You love it. Even you vegetarians out there secretly want a little rich tasty pork goodness in your mouth from time to time....deny it all you want. Jesus and I still love you....not as much as bacon, of course....but what are you gonna do? It's bacon....you could never compete. Accept it now and we'll all be able to get on with our lives.

Bacon is one of those great, super-versatile things of life, ya know? I mean you can:

re-create works of art

eat it on it's own

wrap your other, inferior, foods in it so
that people will like them more

Make boobs more noticeable.....FINALLY!

make your significant other forget
that they could do a lot better than you...for a little while

fight Muslim extremism

and....ummmm.....this

wrap your other, inferior children in it so
that people will like them more

But you know what I hate? I mean, fuckin' HATE? Shitty bacon. Believe it or not, such a thing exists. It's that limp, stringy, mostly fat, shrinks-the-hell-up when you cook it crap that a lot of places try to pass off as food. It's probably racist, too.

But it's not bacon! And you should smack anyone who says otherwise. Right in the face. With a slab of REAL bacon. Bacon you can believe in. Bacon you can fall in love with. Bacon you can have a meaningful relationship with. Bacon you can take home to meet your parents and won't hit on your mom. Bacon you can marry and raise a family with.

Bacon you make yourself.

Now when I tell people “I'm gonna write a blog about making bacon”, most people say “....well whats so hard about that? You just take it out of the package and put it in a pan.”

Neneneneneneno.

I'm talking about making your own bacon. CURING your own bacon. From pork flesh to crispy proof there is a God....with ZERO degrees of separation between you and flavor country. You ready? Ok let's do it.

**********************************************************************
Today's Specials: Bacon....haven't you been paying attention?
Set to the tune of Nine Inch Nails' Piggy

I'm gonna be honest, I'd never cured my own bacon before. The process seemed easy enough...and I'd done pancetta, but bacon was new. I'd just never gotten around to it in my culinary career. One day I picked up Michael Ruhlman & Brian Poleyn's book Charcuterie and was instantly inspired to undertake the project.

It's a great book, full of mouth watering recipes and very detailed, step-by-step instructions. The products covered include preserved lemons, guanciale, pancetta, duck breast prosciutto, sausages of every ilk, salamis, and duck confit. It also has a good sourcing section telling you where to get some of the specialty ingredients.

I dig the book, so the recipe we're gonna be using today is right out of it.

You're gonna need:
1 lb/450g Kosher Salt
8 oz/225g Sugar
2 oz/50g T.C.M.*

5lbs Pork Belly

*What the hell is T.C.M., right? It's curing salt (sometimes called pink salt, Insta Cure #1, DQ Curing Salt, and a number of other brand names. It all works) and it can be pretty easily purchased from a butcher or anyplace that jerky/sausage making supplies are sold. There are also many sources online.

[Another quick note: You'll notice thats a lot of damn curing rub for just 5 lbs of meat. This is true...and it's WAY more than you're gonna need. And actually, I ended up curing about 30lbs with the above recipe. All of those ingredients are cheap and will keep for a long time....and you're gonna want more than five pounds of bacon right? If you set it up just so, I bet you can have a new 5 lb slab ready at the same time that you're finishing off the last one.]

isn't she beautiful?

So start with your pork belly. Where do you get pork belly? You just order it from your food purveyor at your restaurant job, of course. Wait....you don't have a restaurant job? Well then you'll need to go to your grocier (that's French for grocer....actually it's just a typo that I thought I could turn into a visual gag - I imagine it being pronounced 'gross-ee-ay') and talk to the meat dept. It's a fairly common item, so there shouldn't be a problem getting it in. They can even cut it down to the right size and dimensions.

Since I ordered it wholesale, it came in 10lb slabs which we'll need to cut into the proper portions and trim a little.

This is to maximize the surface area for the curing. You can use the trimmings for cooking (chop it up, and use it at the beginning when a recipe calls for bacon. It's milder, so it's not a true substitute, but I think you'll be pleased with the result).

Now take your dry cure rub and....well...um...rub it all over your pork belly. I added a little pepper, but other than that, it's exactly the recipe from Charcuterie.

And....that's it. Put it in a covered container (the book even suggests a sealable plastic bag) and put it in the fridge. It's gotta cure for at least 7 days and then we'll proceed to the next step. There's going to be a large amount of liquid released, so make the appropriate arrangements. What's important here is that the bacon cure in it's own juices so you want it in contact with the fluid at all times. That means that you need to flip it once a day. If you've chosen the ziplock bag method, the same holds true. This process is literally turning the bacon over and re-covering.

So we'll meet back here in 7 days to see how were doing....I can't wait, Braisers. Over and out. In the meantime.....consider this definition of irony: Kevin Bacon is a vegetarian.

I know!!

The Hipster Chef Says: "I Liked Roasted Red Peppers Before They Were Coulis" (a recipe)

2012-01-14T20:56:00.000-08:00

Today's Specials: Excitement Slathered in a Sauce You're About to Learn to Make with a side of "Oh My God, This is SO Good"

Set to the tune of Red Hot Chili Peppers' Sikamikanico

Ok, gang, it's time to get down to business. Welcome to the first Braised In Captivity recipe entry. It's finally here!!

Today were gonna be making Roasted Red Pepper Coulis. It's a delicious, versatile recipe that will both surprise and keep those you cook for coming back for more.

You need:
6 Red Bell Peppers

1 Cup Heavy Cream

1 Cup Sour Cream
1 Tablespoon Chicken Base*

Spices/Herbs to Flavor (more on this later)

Salt to Taste

A Blender

*What the hell is that? It's basically just bouillon in a paste form. At home I use "Better Than Bouillon" brand (the organic line is great), but Stouffer's and Knorr both have similar products.

Directions:

Step 1: First thing we need to do is roast those peppers. So, the ridiculously complicated measures you're going to have to take is; remove any little stickers and place the peppers on the actual grates of your range. That's it. Turn on your flame and you're on your way!

What's that? You don't have a gas range? No problem. Just throw those bad boys on a foil-lined cookie sheet and broil them in the oven, turning with tongs so the skins blister. They'll leak all over....so the foil is pretty much there for easy cleanup.

Now what we want is a nice layer of charred pepper skin (there's a good band name in there somewhere). The point of all this is to remove the skins and impart a nice 'roasted' flavor to the pepper flesh.

So as each side blackens, you're going to turn the (yes...with tongs). Until eventually we get...

roasted red peppers

Now I know some of you are thinking "what if I leave them on for too long!?!? Help me mighty Chef Rob!!!"

What?

You weren't? Fuck you!

But it's pretty hard to leave them on for too long (I hesitate to use the word 'burn' them...since that's kinda the point of all this). Not impossible, but....difficult.

So now you need to put them in a container and cover them. The covering will help the peppers steam and let that charred skin loosen. Five to ten minutes is all you need. It's not essential that you do this, but it sure makes it a lot easier. Which brings us to...

Step 2: Now that we've got our peppers nice and roasted, steamed, and slightly cooled (but not too cool - cool enough to handle) we want to take a nice sharp knife and cut out the stem, and slice the pepper down the side. Open it up. Remove the seeds and ribbing so that:

this

Becomes:

this

See that little knob of seeds and white shit near the top of the pic? That's all the waste you should have. Now flip it over.

Now you're ready for...

Step 3: Scrape the charred skin off of the pepper.

I like to use the back of my chef's knife for this...but you can use whatever you find to be easiest. Sometimes the skin will stick in a couple places. That's ok. Just cut it away or leave it. Your choice. We're pureeing this so, in the end, it won't be noticeable.

Here's what you should be left with after all is said and done:

I like to leave a little of those tiny flecks of char on the pepper. It's easy enough to remove them through aggressive scraping or rinsing under the faucet, but I don't for a couple of reasons. 1, We're after the oils and fluids which have taken on some of that roasted flavor. Washing them away seems like a sacrilege. 2, It let's your diners know that, yes....I DID do this myself. It adds a little touch of humanity.

At this point I'm reticent to mention that roasted red peppers are available in a jar....packed in oil. But I strongly suggest making your own (and yes, you can make a big batch, store them in a jar packed in oil. They'll last a while in the fridge). It just tastes better. It's also possible to do this with just about any variety of pepper ('duh' note: if you're using one of the smaller varieties, you'll have to put a grate over your burners).

Ok...so now we decide what genre of cuisine this will be. Yes...once you've roasted your own peppers, you've earned the right to use the word 'cuisine'. Today, I'm going Indian. So that means:

1 Tsp Cumin

1 Tbl Coriander

2 Tbl Curry

2 Tsp Ginger Powder

1/2 Tbl Garlic

1 Tsp Onion powders

The Chicken Base and maybe some Mace if you've got it.

**Yeah, yeah, yeah....I can hear all you judgmental sous-chefs out there saying "Rob!! Why don't you use real garlic and real ginger?" Well the reason is....you can. And, frankly, it'll taste better if you do. BUT, I'm making this as versatile as possible, and if you add real garlic and ginger, you're gonna need to cook it a little to remove the raw taste from those ingredients. You can use it right away if you use powdered.**

And here's what's great about this recipe....versatility. You want Indian, stay with me. You want Hispanic? Cumin, Coriander, Chili, Garlic, Mexican Oregano, Paprika...maybe a dash of cinnamon (yeah...trust me). Want French? Onion Powder, Garlic, Dill, Marjoram. Italian? Basil, Oregano, Rosemary, Thyme and maybe a little fennel and red pepper flake to add a hint of heat. Irish? Yer shit outta luck, they don't know how to cook with red peppers.

Getting back to the recipe (stop interrupting): Put the peppers, whatever flavoring spices you're going with, and the Chicken Base in a blender. Blend. If it's too dry, add some cream to lubricate (don't you love that word) the process. The goal is to get a nice, smooth texture. Don't add too much cream as the blender may turn it into butter or cause it to curdle. For the record, this won't affect the flavor too much, but it doesn't look pretty. Add just enough to get the process started. A little water will do it if you're afraid of cream. But I figure if you add liquid, it should be flavored with something.

If you're going to cook some meat or veggies in the sauce, do it now. Otherwise, proceed to...

Step 4: Hit it with some Sour Cream. Mix with a spoon or a couple of spins in the blender. The reason you don't want to add the sour cream before if you're cooking it some more, is because the heat will cause it to curdle and (again) it's fine flavor-wise....it just looks a little too much like cottage cheese.

There ya have it. You should end up with a smooth unctuous (another great word....Braised In Captivity is all about vocab) sauce that tastes....well.....amazing. It should look like this:

It's great as a dip or sauce, and if you're looking for a Halloween costume, you could do a lot worse.

Stay tuned for the next installment, Braisers. Ima show you how to cure your own bacon (you heard me).

Do I Make You Hungry, Baby? (if the spirit moves ya, let me food ya)

2012-01-11T06:00:00.000-08:00

Set to the Tune of Marvin Gaye's "Let's Get It On"

So it occurs to your friend and humble narrator that this is a FOOD blog, is it not? And a food blog without a bunch of food porn everywhere is like a fat kid without.....um....well.....a bunch of food porn everywhere. So here we are, the first installment of Braised In Captivity's masticatory delights.

Eat em and Weep! Next time...our very first recipe posting.
Stay tuned, Braisers!!

STARTERS:

Fried Sichuan Dumplings & Hoisin Sauce

Cucumber Cups w/ Boursin & Tobiko Caviar

Fried Scallop topped w/ Creme Fraiche & Salmon Roe

Fried Spring Rolls w/ Hoisin

Spring Rolls w/ Peanut Sauce & Sriracha

Moroccan Spiced Chicken Skewers w/ Spicy Peanut Sauce

Seared Lobster Medallions w/ Lavender White Chocolate Sauce

Roasted Beets & Citrus Goat Cheese

SALAD & VEGGIES:

Asian Relish Salad on Rice Noodles w/ Sushi (Seared Ahi Tuna, Rice Ball w/ Smoked Salmon, California Roll topped with Tobiko-not pictured)

Field Greens & Lemon Vinaigrette on Tomato w/ Parmesan Crisp

Prosciutto-Wrapped Asparagus

SOUPS:

Carrot Ginger Soup; you can find the recipe here

(please note that I varied the garnish slightly from the recipe)

MEATS:

Braised Short Ribs on Sun-Dried Tomato Polenta topped w/ Basil

Sliced Peking Duck in Mandarin Pancakes w/ Hoisin & Sweet & Sour Sauce

Chicken & Manchego Quesadillas w/ Fresh Salsa, Lime Sour Cream, & Balsamic Reduction

Pork Roulade Stuffed with Hawaiian Fruits and Nuts

Pineapple BBQ Sauce

Chicken Stuffed w/ Chorizo Stuffing in Tomato Mole Sauce w/ Lime Cream

(photo courtesy: Jenn Baratta)

Chicken Cacciatore, White Rice, & Balsamic Reduction

A different take on Saltambocca Alla Romana

Slow Roasted Bone-In Pork Loin w/ Sage & Orange

A different take on Chicken Cordon Bleu, Peas & Carrots

Honey Glazed Duck Breast w/ Sesame Crisps

SEAFOOD:

Braided Sole on Zucchini wedges with White Truffle Oil & Parsley

Bay Scallop Ceviche w/ Lime Cream, Gazpacho & Agave Syrup

Crab Cakes w/ Red Pepper Coulis

Braided Tilapa & Stir Fried Vegetables

DESSERTS:

Almond Cake & Sugar Cage

Braised Peaches on Baked Meringue Disks w/ Cinnamon & English Double Cream

Chocolate XS Cake

Fruit Tart

Creme Brulee

The plates for the Chocolate XS Cake: White Chocolate & Raspberry Sauce

Preparing Dessert Plates for Service

Don't forget to 'like' the new Facebook Page

Rome (if you want to)

2012-01-07T17:11:00.000-08:00

Today's Specials: Roulade of Nostalgia Garnished with an aspic of a Lapse in Reason (momentarily)

Set to the tune of The Decemberist's "The Sporting Life"

So here's a fun little story:

Once upon a lifetime ago, your friend and humble narrator was married.

Right? I know.

So anyway....

We were traipsing around Rome as kids are wont to do, and my good lady wife (To protect her identity we'll henceforth refer to her as 'That Bitch Who Took Half My Stuff' – that's not her real name) and I decided one day that we were gonna visit the Catacombs. You know, where they keep the historical dead people which, for some reason, tourists are just so jazzed about looking at.

Now, we had one of those handy-dandy little tourism guides with very detailed maps of the city (a must if you're visiting, btw—hell, probably a good idea even if you live there). And on said map it was very clear that the Catacombs were a small distance away from the southernmost Metro stop. Then it'd be a short jaunt along the Via Appia and take a right at the dead folks. According to the map it was just an inch and a half! We figured if we got an early enough start (we were up at 9am...it being our vacation and all), we could make it there and back to have a late lunch. So once we got off the last Metro station, we walked. No problem, right?

Well....

It turns out that once you got out of the city limits, the map was no longer drawn to scale...

yeah

So 2pm rolls around, and we decide...'Hey...maybe we don't know where the fuck we're going'. So we ask for directions. Let it never be said that your food-blogging friend fell into the man-cliche of not asking for directions. In Italian no less. Well...in an Italian accent. It turns out that speaking English really slowly, like you would to a dog, doesn't go over well with those people. They like it if you...you know, try to speak the language that has been around for a millennia. So I did what I could: “Scuse...quando*....Catacombs?” But in a Brooklyn-Italian accent (I even did that thing with my hand like you're supposed to when speaking Italian). We found out that, in fact, we were only about half way there....

dammit

Now, I look over at my lovely That Bitch Who Took Half My Stuff and I can tell she's disheartened.....and also pretty hungry. We just knew each other like that...where a simple shift in her shoulders or a twitch in her mouth would tell me everything. Plus, she said “I'm disheartened and pretty hungry” so...

**Ok, gang. I can tell by your expressions that some of you are a little uncomfortable by me referring to my ex as That Bitch Who Took Half of My Stuff. At least those of you who aren't snickering each time. Well, rest assured that it's all in fun. She and I have a very good friendship and we speak (nicely) almost daily. She's a great person. She's probably giggling at the 'nickname' as we speak. Well....at least I hope so.**

So That Bitch and I do a little more walking (at this point, we're in the middle of nowhere so it's not like there's a restaurant on the corner) we stumble upon this short gravel road. There's a gate (it's open) and a path leading to a villa-esque restaurant (also open). The sign above the gate read: Hostaria Antica Roma.

Is it any good? Is it expensive? We'd been advised that the places on main tourist thoroughfares should be viewed with skepticism....and we were on one of the oldest and most celebrated roads in Italy (just in the middle-of-nowhere part of it). But at that point we were hungry enough to put anything in our mouths....and yes, you can read that however you want.

So we walk into the little gated courtyard....past the obligatory statuary, past the lush palm and citrus trees, past the Harley parked on the sidewalk, past....wait....WHAT!?!?

We entered through two glass-paned front doors and were met by a kindly old gentleman who beckoned us into the dining room.

this is the guy

The walls are covered in photos of famous people. Actors (I guess DeNiro ate there while he was fattening up for his role in Raging Bull), all sorts of politicians and dignitaries, musicians and John Belushi.

that's right folks. the only thing prosthetic in 'after' pic is his nose

We were sat a lavishly set two-top and handed a menu. Oh, little travel note: the 'classiness' of a menu being written in Italian means less in Italy.
After a short wait a bespectacled, goateed guy bounds up the stairs. He's wearing Harley Davidson suspenders with flames on them and a matching red apron. That's his hog outside...I just know it. It's Paolo and he's maybe one of the most enthusiastic people on the planet. He asks us how were doing and we relate to him the harrowing experience of how we came to be there. He's accommodating...he's fun...he's so very Italian. And not one of those scary ones. He brings us our water and our bread and a GIANT binder FULL of all the press clippings he's collected about the joint. Turns out he's not only our waiter, but the chef as well....and I think part owner(?) so he's very enthusiastic about his place. Frankly, it was difficult to not become enthused just by being around him. According to the binder...a lot of other people are enthusiastic about it, too. There are reviews and clippings from all over the world in every language imaginable (side note: even though there was an Ethiopian review, I'd be reluctant to trust a restaurant review from someone who hails from a place where they don't have food....just sayin).

That's when we notice the holes....

What are those, you ask?

I'm glad you did.

Turns out, that Hostaria Antica Roma is built upon actual Roman ruins. And not just ANY Roman ruins, as Paolo explained to us, but a columbarium (room for housing cremation urns) for the ashes of the liberti (freed slaves) of Caesar Augustus himself. Each one of those holes once contained an urn filled with the cremated remains of the freed slaves of Augustus and they were everywhere.

Holy shit! We'd inadvertantly stumbled upon not only one of the oldest working restaurants in Rome, but also one built into a bona fide Roman ruin. And all because I have issues with spatial relation.

Still reeling from the revelation, we looked at each other, dumbfounded. Paolo asked if we were ready to order.

Oh, yeah...we were hungry. That's why we came in here.
I'm afraid I don't remember what That Bitch had, but I ordered Fettucine alla Alstice (Fettucine in a Lobster Tomato Sauce). Wait a second...

Yeah, ok, here we go. According to the receipt (yeah, I saved it....I knew I'd want to tell this story someday) we ordered two waters (still), two orders of bread, one 'Primi Piatti' (main course – mine) and scrawled in all caps, simply the word 'CAPRESE' so I'm guessing that's what she ordered. And a dessert, which if I remember correctly, was Tiramisu (That Bitch liked it).

So all said and done, a great meal in an historic location with a great waiter in great company makes for a great story. All for the low price of 33 euros including tip.
Buon lavoro, tutti!

Paolo thanked us and sent us on our way. But not before giving us a poster of what appears to be a 17^th century drawing of the first excavation of the site. Also, a friendly direct to the bus stop located a block and a half away which would take us directly to the Catacombs with the advisory that they're closed between the hours of 2 and 5 daily. So if we wanted to see some dead shit, we were gonna have to wait. We decided we'd had enough of this particular adventure and took the bus in the opposite direction...back to the city. It took about 20 mins to get there (we'd been walking for hours). After taking the Metro back to our Hotel, we napped and then woke up for some night life. The day had been exhausting but SO worth it.

We never did make it to the Catacombs, though...

I framed that poster and it is hanging on the wall of the very room in which I'm writing this.

Ciao, Braisers. Coming soon....we make bacon!

*'Quando' means when, jackass

The Chef's Manifesto; or....How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Blog (a promise)

2012-01-05T09:15:00.000-08:00

Today's Specials: Galantine of Excitement Stuffed with Nervous Apprehension. Drizzled with a Passion Reduction and Chiffonade of Self-Depricating Humor.

Set to the tune of Nirvana's "Dive"

Ok, with a show of hands, who's already eaten today?

Not bad.

Now, with a show of hands how many are planning on eating again today?

Wow...that's a lot.

I've got some bad news for ya, gang. It seems to me like you're addicted to food. Don't believe me? Ok, how's this. According to the Mayo Clinic, signs of addiction include:

-Neglecting Responsibilities: How many of you take a whole hour out of your workday to get a fix?

-Your Life Revolves Around Your Drug: Does it seem like you can't go to a wedding, funeral, party, or family get together with out needing some form of culination (yes it's a real word) to lubricate your enjoyment of the whole thing? Do you sometimes even eat alone...or are you still holding on to the delusion that you're just a 'social eater'?
-Sudden Weight Loss or Gain: Does your weight fluxuate with how often and what kinds of food you eat?
-Unexplained Mood Swings: Can you go a whole day without food without feeling like you're gonna die? Do you get anxious? Light-headed? Short of breath? Irritable? And when you finally do get some food, does relief to the point of giddiness wash over you like so much gravy?

Yeah....you got it bad, kid. And believe me, it takes one to know one. I've been struggling with my addiction to food for years. So many back alleys....paper cuts from menus. It was so bad at one point I was selling crack just to get a shot of tuna ceviche....dark days indeed.

But there is hope, dear readers. I, your savior and humble narrator, bring you help in the form of Braised in Captivity. It's a support group. It's a shoulder to cry on. It's an ear and a voice for those who have lived with the shame of their addiction for too long. In the posts to come, we'll be discussing the nature and treatment of our affliction. I know it won't be easy...but it will be worth it.

I promise.

In the posts to come there will be tales of love lost and found, the meals we've shared, the restaurants we love (and despise.....DO YOU HEAR ME APPLEBEE'S), recipes, and instruction. I will teach you...I will learn from you.

And so, with my right hand raised, and my left hand on my chef's knife (carefully, that fucker's wicked sharp):

I swear to always uphold the standard of culinary excellence. To never put ketchup on things that don't warrant it. To keep my knives clean and sharp. To share with you both the victories and failures of the projects I undertake. I promise I'll elaborate on things needing explaining and to keep no 'secret ingredient'. I promise to swear profusely. I will do my best to present all information in a fun and humorous way and have some fucking fun with this.

With this first post, we set to sail. Cheers~