Cleveland, Part 1, Hannah

On Thursday, I went to Los Gauchos with Mommy and got a Gringa al Pastor. It had pork, cheese, flour tortilla, onion, cilantro, lime, and pineapple. I had a mandarin-flavored Jarritos to drink. While we were waiting for our food, Mommy took silly, hilarious pictures of us drinking our Mexican sodas. I thought Mommy was being funny.
I thought that my food was delicious. The pork and the pineapple that were in my food were yummy. I ate the whole Gringa al Pastor.

We finished eating, and went on with our exciting, fun trip to Cleveland!

Protest

Things that Make You Go "Moo"

I love dairy. Milk, ice cream, heavy cream, yoghurt, and especially, cheese. And frankly, I am tired of all the vilification cow’s milk and its products are receiving these days. Ok, let me clarify. The cow’s milk (and its resulting, yummy products) I am referring to and consuming is not the plastic jug you pick up from Speedway on the way home from work. That white product is a sad, indigestible mockery of what milk should be. I’m not referring to the paper cartons of frozen sugar and preservative-laden ice commonly accepted as ice cream in your grocer’s freezer. Nor am I talking about the iridescent, candy-filled, or the 90-calorie, dessert-mimicking substances laughingly called yoghurt lined up on dairy shelves. I will only address in passing that boxed gelatinous yellow rectangle that is meant to resemble cheese.
I am referring to REAL milk. The kind in a heavy glass bottle, the cream an impenetrable seal on the top that I have to shake the dickens out of just to pour. The kind that has that sweet essence of pasture grasses, there, just barely there, at the end of a satisfying draught. The milk that leaves me satisfied and satiated.

My family buys and drinks Hartzler’s Dairy milk almost exclusively (Unless the store is out, and then we “settle” for Snowville, a great product, but packed in a carton). And we buy it whole. Unadulterated, minimally processed, all its fat and nutrients intact.

“Oh, the horrors! All the saturated fat! You let your daughter drink that? All those calories! My thighs! My arteries! Egad, I can feel my cholesterol sky-rocketing!” To all this I have to say, “Please. Educate yourself. Show a little food-snobbery and demand for yourself and those around you a better, satisfying product.”

Let me tell you, briefly, why we buy the milk we buy (and the ice cream, yoghurt, and cheese…). I will also provide a few extremely enlightening and useful links to aid you in your decision.

1. We try very hard to support local businesses. Hartzler’s Dairy is located in Wooster, OH, about 3 hours from here. While 3 hours may seem a bit far, Hartzler’s is the nearest dairy offering a steady supply of what we are willing to buy and consume.

2. We like to use products in as close to their naturally-created state as possible. Whole, minimally-processed, artificial ingredient and preservative-free.

Why? In the case of milk, I offer you the following:

1. These dairy cows are pasture-grass fed. The milk they produce is dense in nutrients and essential fatty acids. We buy it full fat and non-homogenized. Many of the nutrients in milk are fat soluble, meaning if you take away the fat, your body is unable to absorb these nutrients. Homogenizing milk breaks down its fat globules, which prevents the proteins in milk from being digested properly. When these proteins do not pass through proper digestion, they enter the bloodstream and cause allergic reactions and intolerance. By leaving that fat whole (and pasteurizing it at lower temperatures), your body can break down and utilize the proteins properly. Destroying the fat globules can also lead to the hardening of arteries.

2. No artificial hormones or antibiotics are given to these cows. A few years ago, I was diagnosed with PCOS, a nasty, hormone-related disease that has caused me a host of health problems and infertility. Although no one has been able to pinpoint the cause of this devastating condition, I have growing suspicions that there is a direct correlation to the amount of artificial hormones and antibiotics I ingested earlier in life. As the mother of a beautiful and healthy young girl, I refuse to fill her body with substances I feel will have a long-lasting negative impact on her health.

3. Real, whole milk (and other natural ,wholesome, full-fat foods) leaves the body satiated and satisfied for longer periods of time than their low-fat counterparts. Ingesting the fat helps to stabilize metabolism as it releases insulin more slowly and digests slowly. Low-fat foods release lactose (sugar) more quickly, causing spikes in insulin (an especially concerning issue for those of us suffering from PCOS).

4. Drinking milk from pastures cows is better for the environment. Spend any time near a factory farm and its shit ponds, and you will know exactly what I mean. Good stewardship is everything, the reason why we make the food decisions we do as a family. The cruel conditions factory-farmed dairy cows (or any factory farm livestock) are subjected to are unconscionable and unacceptable. We have the power and responsibility as consumers to demand the best from our purveyors.

5. It tastes really, really good. There is simply no comparison in flavor between Hartzler Dairy milk and the sad, watery liquid sold as milk by “other purveyors”. We don’t sit around drinking huge glasses of milk everyday (Though I am tempted to with Hartzler’s chocolate milk. It’s just that delicious!). Everything in moderation is truly a phrase to live by. But if I am going to add a splash to my coffee, drink a cold glass with my cookies, or make a batch of homemade ice cream, whole, natural milk is my choice, really my only choice. If I had no access to such a beautiful product, I would go without.

http://experiencelife.com/article/skimming-the-truth/
http://www.hartzlerfamilydairy.com/index-preview.php
http://chriskresser.com/whole-fat-milk-benefits-for-moms-kids
http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/features/3633366/Full-fat-takes-the-cream.html

A Whole New World

Sooooo...here we are...the first week of 2012, and I don't even know how or where to begin. I guess at the beginning. The past several months have been quite the whirlwind. So many changes have taken place, some good (I think, though it's still too early to tell), some really rough. I kinda feel like some one's pinning me to the wall and flinging Chinese Stars at me, with more than a few of them hitting the mark.

Well, as Sister Maria wisely said, "When the Lord closes a door, somewhere He opens a window." I am currently looking for said window, and preferably one that won't suddenly slam shut on my fingers. I also know that this window won't magically appear; I will have to find it.

For what, precisely, should I be looking? Where should I be looking? Will there be good tacos there? (I'm only partially kidding.)

Ok, so, game plan time. I have (sort of) hit on what could be (or not) an interesting starting point. We're gonna travel the world! Take in this sights and smells! Experience new cuisines! Well, probably nothing so extravagant (maybe someday, I hope), but we are hitting the road, nonetheless. My daughter and I are embarking on a series of food and culture adventures, with grand exploratory and gustatory goals. Then we'll write about it, and you'll read it, hopefully. Getting a child's perspective on a culinary experience should be entertaining, if nothing else.

First up: Cleveland, one of my favorite in-region cities. I'm in the planning stage right now, but will update when we've finalized our plan. "Cleveland?" "Really?" "It's rusty and the river's on fire!" Um, yes,and no. I hope to convince you otherwise. We are also looking at Indianapolis, Chicago, Charleston, Austin, Portland, Birmingham (yes, in AL), and NOLA. Don't know if we'll hit them all, but here's trying.

In between I'll be posting other food thoughts, ruminations, recipes, dishes, etc. Feel free to comment, but know that if you're mean to me, I'll shiv you. I totally will. Ha. Scared ya, didn't I? No really, critique away!

Half-Hearted Adobado and 5-Day Oxtails

So I have a few more braising recipes under my belt, and if this subzero weather continues, I'm bound to have a few more. I've got a chicken thawing in the fridge as I write...

Last week I put together chicken and pork adobado, a Filipino dish consisting of chicken thighs (my favorite chicken parts)and country-style pork ribs. The meat is marinated for a couple of hours in garlic, water, vinegar, soy sauce, lime zest, bay leaves, sugar salt and peppercorns, then braised in its marinade for about 45 minutes.

The finish though, is the key. You remove the meat, boil down the liquid for a sauce, and then brown the meat in a skillet until it develops a nice caramelized crust (You must make sure to dry the meat first with paper towels to remove excess moisture our it will not brown). This last step is crucial, for here appears your texture and crunchy goodness.

I served the chicken and pork with jasmine rice cooked in water and coconut milk and a simple tomato relish/salsa made of grape tomato, white onion, cilantro, and lime (Really a pico de gallo, only not, I suppose, being that this is a Filipino dish. On the other hand, Filipino cuisine is an amalgam of world cuisines, so maybe I should just call it pico and be done with it.)

Everything was tasty, the meat had a wonderful crust, but for me...well, it fell a little short. This feeling was by no means a result of a faulty recipe or lack of flavor. It was really the fault of the cook...me. You see, with cooking, as with any pursuit, when you are not dedicated to the task at hand, you can't expect to get outstanding results. I wasn't in the greatest of moods that day, and so really my attempt was half-hearted at best. I wasn't nearly as attentive as I needed to be, resulting in mediocre rice and flavors that weren't quite as developed as I wanted. Fortunately, I have garnered enough cooking skills over the years that this dish was saved from complete annihilation; I pretty much roboted my way through it.

So, sorry to Molly Stevens that I didn't do this recipe justice, but I will almost definitely be making it again.

On Saturday, I began marinating my 5 pounds of oxtails. I used a very lovely Montepulciano (Italian red) wine as the base for the braise, which turned the oxtails a deep purple. Quite an interesting sight. According to Molly's directions, you can marinate the oxtails for up to 2 days. Ummm, mine stayed in the bag for 3. I can tell you though, that no long term harm resulted for the oxtails or those who consumed them. I had planned on braising them completely Tuesday morning and then reheating for dinner that evening, but as happens many times for me, I failed to read through the directions completely (a fast reader habit I have yet to break...also why I often re-read books several times). I still had several steps to complete before I even got the the braise. So, I browned the oxtails under the broiler, soaked my porcini mushrooms ( they were dried), prepared my aromatics, and then reduced, and reduced, and reduced, my braising liquid (a combination of grappa, the reserved marinade, the mushroom soaking liquid, and beef stock). At this point I placed the oxtails in the liquid and put the whole assembly in the fridge...to be continued.

Finally, I was ready to cook the oxtails! Wednesday morning arrived. This was going to be my only opportunity to cook these darn things as I was headed to Columbus that afternoon to pick up our CSA share. The oxtails spent a relaxing 4 hours in a 300 oven, filling the house with their deep aroma.

Upon returning home that evening, I whipped up some polenta (the perfect vehicle for soaking up meat juices, and since this recipe leaned Italian, I opted for it instead of Amish egg noodles, another favorite), made a quick salad of the greens and sprouts we received in our CSA, cracked open a bottle of CA Sienna wine (not a big CA win fan, but this one proved to be quite tasty), and dived in. The meat was so tender and flavorful, everything that slow cooked, meaty bits should be. All in all, a very satisfying winter meal. I have a few leftovers, and am now pondering what to do with them. Sometimes, the leftover dish can be every bit as exciting as its original. I'm thinking meat pies...

So, what is on tap next? Goan chicken? Squid roulades? Pork belly? We'll have to see what I remember to defrost and what mood strikes...

Braising

Last week: Chicken and Pork Adobado. This week: Oxtails braised in red wine. More info and pics to come...

Git Yer Cook On

I am slowly amassing a nice collection of cook books. The funny thing is, I haven't cooked anything out of several of them. I believe I have a myriad of excuses as to why this phenomenon has occurred, but mainly it is due to the fact that I am not a recipe cook. I tend to just make things up as I go and fall back on knowledge already accrued through reading and experience.

The cool thing is, a lot of the cookbooks contain new knowledge for me. As I am addicted to learning, it only makes sense that I would eventually turn to these materials at hand to continue in my quest for greater culinary understanding. Plus, a lot of the recipes are down-right amazing.

So, my plan is to focus on one book per month. They run the gamut, as far as cuisine and methodology. For January, befitting the weather and my winter mood, I will be braising. I adore braising and all its slow-cooked, savory possibilities. For those who don't know, cooking with braising begins with browning in fat, then simmering in a small amount of liquid in a closed vessel at a low temperature for a long time. This method of cooking does wonders for the tougher bits, coaxing big flavor at a patient and peaceful simmer. I will be utilizing my autographed copy of Molly Stevens All About Braising, a book I purchased at the cooking school after working one of her amazing classes. On the menu for this month: goan chicken, duck ragù with pasta, beef rendang, red-cooked pork belly with bok choy, just to name a few. This book will be more an undertaking of comfort for me than anything; I braise quite often and am fairly comfortable with the process. I need to start somewhere, though, and there are so many recipes in this lovely book that are just begging to be tried, and eaten.

Over the next several months I will be exploring the precise worlds of Thomas Keller and Eric Ripert, the mold-breaking realm of David Chang, eccentric offal of Fergus Henderson, and others. I hope to post periodically about my amazing successes(may they be many), spectacular failures (may they be few), and what I've hopefully learned. In the meantime, Le Creuset and Staub are calling my name.