southern comfort

before i moved to hong kong at the age of 11, i lived in a small village in the provincial northwest of england.  we had a school, a pub, a church, and a small round tower from which we could apparently defend our cow fields and blackberry brambles.   

(i used to think when i was older i would live in this tower, clearly displaying delusions of rapunzel grandeur.  just, obviously, with shorter hair.)  foreigners in my village were few and far between, so until my family trekked to florida years later in search of mickey mouse, i’d never met a real american.  as such, i assumed that all americans had the earnest wholesome look of richie cunningham, spoke with the slow drawl of john wayne, and rode in rocking chairs strapped atop their jalopies, just like granny clampett.  of course, once i moved overseas and my horizons broadened somewhat, i realised there was a titch more to this giant, sprawling mass of a country than that.  and i might just have to look slightly further than sunday morning reruns to define it. 

though i have no ties to the south, having only lived in states that touch the pacific, i've always been fascinated by the southern cuisine.  something about the slow, leisurely style of cooking appeals to me.  there's a time and a place for the fast, instant gratification of asian stir-frying & whatnot, but i do love a recipe where you get things going, then go make a cocktail, sit on the porch, read a book, take a nap, and BOOM dinner's done.   it's also a great style of cooking for when you live in the time vortex that is having three young children and the hours disappear in the blink of an eye.  (unless, of course, they're whining and bickering, in which case time stands still.  stephen hawking, please to explain.)  

southernfest 2012 consisted of david chang's bbq pulled pork, a sweet potato spoonbread, and hugh acheson's collard greens.  i shan't talk to you about the spoonbread, as it was a titch stodgy, so needs some tinkering.  you have no time for reading about less than perfect, overly stodgy recipes.  you are busy, terribly important men and women of the world with schedules to keep, asses to kick, and names to be taken.  moving on.  BUT the pork and the greens were southern comfort at its best.  the pork is tangy to the extreme, simultaneously tart and sweet,  zingy and...  zappy?  i obviously need some more coffee to come up with better adjectives...  let's just say it was bloody marvelous.  the collard greens are one of the signature dishes of my chef boyfriend hugh acheson (he of the keen wit and the one eyebrow).  i love greens done pretty much every which way, but these are definitely up at the top of the list.  the flavour is so complex, people will never realise that you ignored them solidly for two hours; not, in fact, slaving over a hot stove, but instead sipping mint juleps on the porch and reading tennessee williams.

 

david chang's bbq pulled pork (adapted from food & wine magazine)

 

one 5-pound boneless pork shoulder, cut in half
kosher salt and freshly ground pepper
1/2 cup tomato paste
1 1/2 teaspoons hot paprika
1/4 teaspoon ground cloves  (i omitted these.  childhood aversion to cloves.  gak.)
1/4 teaspoon ground allspice
1/2 cup packed dark brown sugar
1 cup cider vinegar
1/4 cup molasses
1 cup ketchup
1 tablespoon ground coffee (not instant)
1 cup water
kaiser rolls (i made sliders for my kids.  big hit)

 

season the pork with salt and pepper. brown all over in a large cast-iron pot, about 12 minutes total. transfer to a plate. add the tomato paste to the pot and cook over moderately low heat, stirring, until deep red, 2 minutes. add the paprika, cloves (gak), allspice and brown sugar and cook until the sugar dissolves, about 30 seconds. add the vinegar and bring to a boil, scraping up any browned bits. add the molasses, ketchup, ground coffee and water and bring to a simmer.

return the pork to the pot. cover and cook over low heat, turning the pork in the sauce occasionally, until very tender, about 4 hours. transfer the pork to a large bowl and let rest for 30 minutes.

meanwhile, skim the fat from the sauce. boil the sauce over moderately high heat until thickened slightly, about 5 minutes (took more like 15 for mine). using 2 forks, shred the pork; discard any large pieces of fat. stir the shredded pork into the barbecue sauce. mound the pork on the buns, top with coleslaw, if desired, and serve.

hughnibrow's collard greens (adapted from "a new turn in the south" by the delightful hugh acheson)

 

3 tablespoons olive oil

1 large yellow onion, peeled and minced

4 pounds collard greens, cleaned and pulled into bite-size pieces

1/4 cup sherry vinegar (i had none, so used apple cider vinegar.  bit less sophisticated, but worked just fine.)

2 tbs sorghum or maple syrup (sorgwhothewhatnow?  i used maple syrup)

4 cups chicken stock

1 small smoked ham hock

1 tsp kosher salt

1/2 tsp red pepper flakes (or more if you're like me and slather pretty much everything you eat in those little red flakes of goodness)

1 tbs butter

heat oil in a very large pot over medium heat. add onion and sauté until lightly colored, about 5 minutes.

add the collards and sauté until they are just starting to wilt, about 4 to 5 minutes. add vinegar and cook until reduced by half, 5 to 7 minutes.  add the syrup, stock, 2 cups of water, ham hock, salt, and red pepper flakes. 

cook, covered, for about 2 hours, until the collards are meltingly tender.  shred meat from ham hock and stir back into greens.   

add butter and dig in.  feel sorry for darling 7 month old son who valiantly tries to reach it as he is instead fed pureed broccoli.  remind children that good things come to those who wait...

 

y'all come back now, y'hear.

ain't gno thing

i think it was when i came across a description of gnocchi as “fluffy little pillows” that i first fell in love with them.  i mean, that’s just taking comfort food, which i am all about, to the next level.  there’s also the fact that they’re a sort of dumpling that makes my inner core cry out for them.  i have a major food-crush on dumplings of all shape, size, and cuisine.  fat, stodgy eastern-european numbers floating atop a caraway gravy; succulent little chinese parcels stuffed with pork and scalding hot broth; or these italian nubbins of cloud-like perfection.  my husband, upon trying gnocchi for the first time in a spiffy italian restaurant, declared “huh, they’re kind of like tater tots.”  to the 3 people reading these words, do not listen to him.  that’s like finishing “fifty shades of grey” and saying “huh, it’s kind of like tolstoy.”  sure, they’re both books, pages with words printed on them, but that doesn’t make it “war and peace.” 

i came across the recipe for “ricotta and chive gnocchi” in the most excellent “food 52 cookbook.”  it promised the perfect blend of stodge and fluff that appeals to my british roots, so away i went.  truth: should you be looking for an easy, quick weeknight dinner, this is not it.  the faff factor was somewhat off the scale, frankly.  BUT i bravely forged ahead as visions of fluffy little pillows drenched in butter danced before my eyes…  following the recipe to the letter, i boiled and then riced the potatoes (when did “rice” become a verb??  i missed that memo), added the eggs and the flour, rolled & formed the gnocchi…  so far so good.  the recipe then calls to boil them, remove to a colander, then pan-fry to give them that brown, crisp exterior we all crave.  and here, sweet 3 people reading this, is where it all went horribly, horribly wrong.  softened by the boiling process, then slopped into a colander, the sweet, carefully formed little dumplings all proceeded to do everything in their power to glob together into one big sticky mass.  well, bloody hell...  with a whole lot of careful work, i managed to somewhat save them, and the sautéing still delivered that crust, but my pillows now looked more like jabba the hut.  (don’t you just want to make this recipe NOW?!)  of course, when googling various recipes to find out where i went wrong, i came across the following sentence:  “retrieve the gnocchi with a slotted spoon and put them on a baking sheet or plate.”  so simple, so easy, and i bet it would make all the difference in the world.  knowledge is power, people.

the other great boon of this recipe is it somehow made enough for about 3 dinners.  i spread the unused, uncooked gnocchi on baking sheets, froze them, then transferred them to a freezer bag.  the next time i’m craving my fluffy little pillows, they can go into the boiling water straight from frozen.  faff factor:  zero.  jabba the hutt?  hopefully banished to a galaxy far, far away.

ricotta and chive gnocchi (adapted from "the food52 cookbook" - a bloody good read)

3 russet potatoes

2 eggs

1 cup ricotta

1/2 cup grated parmesan (plus more for sprinkling, if you like things cheesy)

1/3 cup chives

2 cups of flour (plus more for rolling, etc.)

6 Tbs butter

6 Tbs olive oil

salt & pepper 

bring a large pot of water to boil and add the potatoes.  boil for 45 minutes, then drain potatoes in a colander and let cool.

once the potatoes have cooled down, remove and discard the skins.  in a large bowl, mash the potatoes. (the mixture needs to be as smooth as possible, so use a ricer if you have one.)  then, add the eggs, ricotta, parmesan, and chives.

add the flour and stir together until you get a malleable, dough-like consistency.  take a handful or two of flour and scatter it on a smooth surface.  place your dough on the flour and begin rolling with your hands as if you're forming a large snake.  you will end up getting a very large tube of dough, about two feet long.  cut this into quarters, and continue rolling each individual segment until you form rolls that are no bigger than a quarter in circumference.  (any bigger and you'll have difficulty cooking them.)

use a knife to cut off little sections and roll them around in the palm of your hand to make the gnocchi.  you may need to continue dredging them in a little flour as you go.  set all the finished gnocchi on a large plate to the side.

once all the gnocchi have been formed, dump them into a pot of boiling, salted water. boil the gnocchi for five minutes.

for the love of all that is fluffy and delicious, DO NOT drain the boiled gnocchi in a colander. instead, retrieve the gnocchi with a slotted spoon and put them in a single layer on a baking sheet or plate.  whew.  then, in a large sauté pan over medium high heat, add two tablespoons of oil and butter.  sauté in batches until the gnocchi form a light, brown crust.  add more oil or butter as needed for subsequent batches.  sprinkle gnocchi with extra parmesan cheese and chives.  

serve to family who claim to be wasting away to nothing after waiting soooooooooo long for dinner.  watch as number-one son cleans his plate in five minutes tops, clearly not disturbed in the least by their hutt-esque appearance.

it’s getting chile in here

ever since i burst forth rather unglamorously into adolescence with big sally jessy oversized glasses and a fringe growing out in a manner reminiscent of tintin (google it.  not pretty), i have had a longstanding love-affair with the chile pepper.  the fact that chile loved me back even with said styling is, frankly, a testament to the depth and force of the love we shared.  this was no passing fancy, no summer fling.  there were no empty pledges of daily missives brimming with angst and hormones and pimples.  no, this love was for keepsies; the everlasting, george clooney of food crushes.  other ingredients might pop in and out with their strong shoulders, flashy smiles and soulful gazes, but my heart shall always belong to the chile pepper. 

my current obsession is tinkering around with homemade salsas.  which also plays into my OTHER current obsession, which is condiments.  i am a ho for a hot sauce; condimented, if you will.  no matter what you’re cooking, or how terribly wrong it might go, a good sauce can make (or save) the dish.  it's like wearing your fanciest knickers underneath your sweatpants: it might not be the main focus of your ensemble, but somehow it just makes you feel a little better about your day.  

rick bayless (sweet man, strangely flesh-coloured beard) knows a thing or nineteen about mexican cooking.  i’m presently working my way through “mexican everyday” and he has yet to steer me wrong.  the recipes are original, thought-provoking, and the faff-factor is minimal (which is always good news for the zero-training home cook such as myself). 

two of my favourites thus far have been the avocado salsa and the smoky chipotle salsa with pan-roasted tomatillos.  both utilise the bizarre fruit that is the tomatillo, a frequent feature of latin american cuisine.  now, the tomatillo might look like an unripe tomato in search of a coat check, but in fact it’s actually related to the gooseberry.  (random, slightly boring, and completely useless fact of the day.  you’re welcome.)  the former salsa is fresh and tart, subtle but with a kick from the jalapeno.  oh, and it takes about 3 minutes tops from start to finish.  rick suggests pairing it with chorizo tacos, but i’ve had it with chicken, fish, pork, and scrambled eggs.  it’s pretty much the little black dress of salsas.  the chipotle one is somewhat more complex in flavour.  the char from the dry pan-roasting adds to the inherent smokiness of the chipotles, leading to a full-bodied, punch you in the face kind of salsa.  but, you know, in a good way.  it goes beautifully with steak fajitas, a fat bottle of red, and a deck on a summer evening.  now if somebody needs me, i’ll be off in the corner with my red-hot lovah.  CP + JE 4EVA.

smoky chipotle salsa with pan-roasted tomatillos (adapted from “mexican everyday” by rick bayless)

4 medium tomatillos, husked, rinsed and cut in half (about 8 oz.)
3 cloves garlic, peeled (i used 4.  what can I say, i heart garlic)
2 chipotles in adobo (more if you want more heat) (i used some chipotles from my freezer that i had previously pureed.  probably equivalent to about 3.  yummmm…)

set a large nonstick skillet over medium high heat. lay in the tomatillos (cut side down) and the garlic.

when the tomatillos are well browned, about 4 minutes, flip everything over and brown on the other side. the tomatillos should be completely soft.

scoop the tomatillos and garlic into a food processor and add the chipotles, about 1/4 cup water, and salt to taste (about 1/2 tsp.).

process everything together into a course puree.  

avocado salsa (adapted from “mexico: one plate at a time” by rick bayless)

2-3 medium tomatillos (about 4 oz.), husked, rinsed and cut into quarters
1 garlic clove, peeled (or two, if you’re feeling feisty)
2 serranos or 1 jalapeno, roughly chopped (i always go jalapeno and leave in the seeds & membranes ‘cause I’m cray cray like that)
1 large ripe avocado

combine the tomatillos, garlic and chiles in the food processor.  pulse until everything is finely chopped.

peel and pit the avocado, add the flesh to the processor, and pulse until everything is well blended.

taste and season with salt, about 1/2 teaspoon. 

use every fibre of your being to stop yourself from drinking salsas through a straw.  cheers.

ONO you di'int!

In hawaii, they have a word to describe foods that are delicious: “ono.”  well, i lucked into a delightfully ono two weeks in kauai, where this happened to be my cooking view:

 
I’m not sure how I’m going to reconcile going back to cooking in washington…  with a view of my overgrown front yard and the neighbours’ house across the road (who by the way avoid eye contact like it’s contagious)…  BUT, good god, that view was fun for a little bit.  whilst we were in the garden isle, we attacked local fish like it was going out of season (which, by the way, it wasn’t).  we assaulted the ahi, we mauled the moonfish, we murdered the mahi mahi…  should there be an overfishing (or over-alliterating) problem off the coast of kauai this year, the fuller family might be directly responsible.

of the many dishes we cooked, one of the first (and most memorable) was bobby flay’s mahi mahi (the fish so nice they named it twice!!) with yellow pepper-cilantro pesto.  sweet and pungent, yet not overpowering enough to overwhelm the mahi², this was the pesto that dreams were made of.  (even if you were using the broken blender that came with the house rental, which slowly sprayed you a greenish hue as it lamely attempted to process.) 
 

barbecued mahi mahi with yellow pepper-cilantro pesto (adapted a titch from bobby flay)

rub:
2 tablespoons spanish paprika
1 tablespoon ancho chile powder
2 teaspoons ground cumin
2 teaspoons dark brown sugar
1 teaspoon chile de arbol powder
1 teaspoon kosher salt
1 teaspoon coarsely ground black pepper
 
(truth: i was on vacation, away from my spice cabinet.  i used some chile powder, paprika, and salt & pepper.  done.)
 
yellow pepper-cilantro pesto:
2 large yellow bell peppers, grilled, peeled, seeded and chopped (truth: i had a bunch of baby orange/red peppers on hand.  they did fantastically.)
1 clove garlic, chopped
2 tablespoons pine nuts
1 cup chopped fresh cilantro leaves
3 tablespoons grated parmesan
1/2 cup extra virgin olive oil
1 teaspoon kosher salt
1 teaspoon freshly grated pepper
 
mahi mahi:
4 mahi mahi fillets 8 ounces each (or more.  you’re on holiday.  live a little)
4 teaspoons olive oil
spice rub
cilantro leaves
 
directions
combine all the rub ingredients in a small bowl.
place peppers, garlic, pine nuts, cilantro and cheese in a (broken) food processor and process until combined.  with the motor running, add the oil and process until emulsified and season with salt and pepper, to taste.
 
(side note, pesto is one of those things that is marvelously adaptable.  no pine nuts?  great, use almonds!!  no parmesan?  fab, use manchego!!  no cilantro?  throw some basil in there and be done!  there really is a rarely more adaptable recipe out there.  give me a jar of marmite and a bag of frazzles and i just might be able to cobble a pesto out of it.  maybe.)
 
heat grill to high and brush each fillet on both sides with oil and rub.  place on the grill and cook until slightly charred and a crust has formed, about 2 to 3 minutes.  turn the fish over and grill for 3 to 4 minutes longer or until cooked to medium doneness.  top each fillet with a few tablespoons of the pesto and garnish with cilantro leaves.

 
enjoy with tiki torches and view of stoned surfers parked by the beach thinking they’re being awfully stealthy.  (hint to surfers:  think again.  you're really not.)  and after 2 weeks of eating delicious fish, don't despair when darling daughter responds that her favourite fish is bacon.  'cause let's be honest, all things bobby and pesto and mahi²  considered, she might be onto something...