Pork & Turkey Meatloaf

If you're thinking that you've seen this combination of meats from me before, you're right: Pork & Turkey Meatballs is the exact same recipe, so check it out if you would like to make this. The only change is that you're making one big meatball, so to speak, and it takes longer to cook.

I use lean ground turkey thigh and lean ground pork, and cut the meatloaf into 12 slices, effectively making each slice the same food value as one of the meatballs (approximately 133 calories* per slice, if you're counting). It makes a great dinner centrepiece, and the leftovers make predictably delicious sandwiches. In fact, I urge you to make a grilled cheese sandwich in which a very thin slice of this meatloaf is placed between layers of cheese; you will doubtless eat it dangerously fast, if my experience is anything to go by.

For cooking the meatloaf, preheat your oven to 350 F, and shape the meat mixture into a loaf with your hands before placing it gently into a loaf-pan. Bake the meatloaf, uncovered, for 45 minutes. Paint with a little soy sauce or worcestershire sauce, bump up the temperature to 400 F, and bake for another 15 minutes. Carefully remove the meatloaf from the pan (I use two flipper-type spatulas, one on each end) to a warmed plate or a cutting board.

I recommend letting the meatloaf stand for ten minutes when it comes out of the oven before slicing, for optimum slice cohesion. You can tent it with foil if you're worried that it will cool down too much. Slice only what you need right away, and let the rest continue to cool until dinner's over. Then slice the rest, and store how you wish. You'll find the completely cooled meatloaf slices much more neatly and tidily than the first ones.

One of the great things I discovered about this recipe is that it freezes incredibly well. We had a few slices left over after the dinner that you see above, and the aforementioned sandwiches, and I wrapped the slices all together in plastic wrap, which I then bagged up in a freezer bag with the air squeezed out. Two weeks later, we hauled out the bag, defrosted it, reheated the slices on medium power in the microwave, and had a yummy dinner that took very little effort. Somehow, that sort of thing always makes me feel like I'm getting away with something.

What kind of sides you serve with meatloaf is entirely up to your preference. I don't usually go for mashed potatoes, because I don't put a sauce or gravy on the meatloaf. In the picture above, the potato-half you see is a very simple twice-baked potato, wherein the insides of a baked potato were scraped out and mixed with a little monterey jack or edam cheese, some smoked paprika, and a dollop of sour cream. The filling was smoothed back into the baked potato shell, and briefly broiled, topped with a tiny bit more sour cream, and some green onion. You could also go with a nice rice pilaf, or even macaroni and cheese, a creamy orzo side dish, or even french fries. The other side, broccoli, is a no-brainer in our household. Need a veggie? How about broccoli?! We eat a lot of it, either plain steamed with a pinch of kosher salt, or drizzled with a little toasted sesame oil (especially for an Asian-flavoured dinner). In asparagus season, that makes a great choice too, but any veggie side will do: crisp green salad, corn on-or-off the cob, green beans, spicy carrot coins...even green peas, if that's your thing (but I'll pass, frankly). And the end of the day, you know what you like; serve it with this meatloaf.

*calorie information from an online calculator, the accuracy of which I cannot vouch for.

Artichoke & Feta Quiche

Perhaps you recall back in December 2010, when I reviewed a cookbook called Cook This, Not That! (subtitled "Easy & Awesome 350 Calorie Meals") by David Zinczenko and Matt Goulding on my (sadly neglected) other blog "Much Ado About Diet" or the other recipes that I have made since then, either straight from the book, or somewhat adapted therefrom. In fact, it should be noted that many of the recipes that I've made from the book (each one a success) which haven't made it onto the blog are simply because either a) the photos were crummy, and I need to take better ones next time, or b) I am a lazy blogger who sometimes forgets that I haven't already written them up.

This recipe is not from that book. This recipe is from the other Cook This, Not That! cookbook by the same duo, subtitled "Kitchen Survival Guide." As a test recipe, it was a big hit, and I'll definitely be making it again (or other versions inspired by this one). In the spirit of "use what you have", I substituted thick-cut dry cured bacon for the recipe's turkey or chicken sausage, and, not having any frozen pie crust hanging about, I used my mother's basic recipe for a simple pastry shell. Since I knew I would be making this on Sunday, on Saturday I mixed up the crust, rolled it out, and stuck it (in the pie pan) in the fridge overnight.

Artichoke, Feta & Bacon Quiche
(Adapted from Cook This! Not That! Kitchen Survival Guide)

Serves 6

3 large eggs
1 cup 1% milk
3 canned artichoke hearts, drained, chopped, and squeezed dry
60 grams feta (I use sheep feta)
2 tablespoons sundried tomatoes, chopped
4 slices of thick bacon, fried until crisp and well drained

While the oven is preheating to 350℉, chop and cook the bacon, and set aside. Mix the eggs and milk together until smooth. In an unbaked pie crust, arrange the chopped artichoke hearts, sundried tomatoes, bacon, and crumbled feta for even distribution. Pour the egg and milk mixture over the filling, and bake for 45 to 50 minutes, or until the crust is golden and the filling is slightly puffed and firmly set. Allow to stand for 5 minutes before cutting, for easy removal.

Next time I do this, I will at the very least add some snipped chives or fresh parsley or basil (or chile flakes!) to the the mixture, I think, but it was very good on its own, too. We finished the individual slices with black pepper and a tiny drizzle of truffle oil.

I was using paler-yolked eggs than I usually do, so the quiche was rather lighter-coloured than my quiches ordinarily are. I imagine that if you use orange-yolked eggs you will have a more golden quiche.

For those of you who don't have a frozen pie crust lurking about, and would like an easy one to make yourself, here's mine:

Single Pastry Crust
for a 8 or 9" pan

3/4 cup all purpose (unbleached) flour
1/4 cup butter
pinch of salt
1 tablespoon vodka
1 1/2 tablespoons cold water

Place the flour in the bowl of a small food processor fitted with a metal cutting blade. Add the pinch of salt and the butter (cold is best) in chunks, and pulse until well mixed, and the butter is in pieces no larger than a piece of confetti. Add the vodka and the water, all at once, and pulse again, continuing to pulse until the dough comes together and pulls away from the edge of the bowl. Dump it out and massage the dough, as minimally as possible into shape. Chill the dough for 10 minutes, then roll out as needed. This recipe can be doubled to make a double crust pie.

The recipe was published as containing 250 calories per slice. My bacon-y adaptation with a freshly made crust (and using 1% milk instead of 2%) clocked in at 237 calories (based on an online recipe calculator), so at least I didn't damage the healthiness of the recipe with the few adjustments that I made.

Chorizo Succotash

January often marks a fresh attempt at better eating habits, and my house is no exception. The luxuries of the holiday season, some of which are still piled up on the dining room table, have become a menacing responsibility - the need to value the efforts which went into making the various treats, both mine and others, and the wish to refrain from waste, all jumble together against the knowledge that December was full of exceptions and indulgence, and that January had better feature some strategic planning.

My reactionary meal-planning almost always skews to the quickly prepared items, generally brightly coloured dishes which feature the greatest variety of vegetables that I can pack into my skillet. This Succotash fits the bill.

A side dish in the American South, succotash generally features a trifecta of lima beans, corn, and peppers, and varying amounts of butter, cream, bacon, or ham, depending on the cook and the needs of the moment. This version adds a small amount of chorizo to bump it up to centre plate, and is served over rice. Leftover succotash can be stirred right into the rice for a pleasing lunch, too.

Don't let the words "lima beans" put you off, either! I use the bitty little frozen ones, and they are tender and tasty, not bland and starchy. Plus, the combination of bacon and chorizo gives you plenty to take your mind off any childhood lima-induced trauma.

Chorizo Succotash
Adapted from "Cook This! Not That!"
by David Zinczenko and Matt Goulding

Serves 4 (over rice)

2 pieces thick, dry-cured bacon
150 grams dry-cured chorizo, diced
300 grams baby lima beans (fresh or frozen)
2 cups frozen corn
1 medium yellow onion, diced
1/4 cup half & half or light cream
1 medium red bell pepper, diced
1/4 teaspoon ground white pepper
1/2 teaspoon ground cumin
1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper

Chop the bacon into lardons, and fry gently over medium heat until crispy. Remove the bacon pieces from the pan, but leave a tablespoon of the drippings. Add the onions and chorizo to the skillet, and saute for about three minutes, or until tender. Add the lima beans (no need to defrost, if using frozen), and stir and saute for another three minutes. Add the frozen corn, and stir and saute again.

Season with cumin and cayenne, add the bacon pieces back to the pan, and taste to see if you need to add any salt (the chorizo and bacon may have added enough). Add the red pepper, and a dribble of water, and saute for three more minutes. Continue to cook and stir until vegetables are tender (test the beans). Add the half & half, and cook and stir until liquid boils off to a thin sauce, almost evaporated. Remove from heat and serve over basmati rice.

Could you make this dish vegetarian? Absolutely. Simply omit the meat, and use a tablespoon of olive oil to saute the vegetables. To give a little more depth of flavour, you might want to add a splash of liquid smoke. Alternatively, you could also use an extra-firm smoked tofu, diced moderately finely, in place of the chorizo. For vegans, follow the vegetarian instructions, but also replace the half & half with either vegetable broth or a non-dairy milk (such as almond or rice milk), possibly thickened with a little cornstarch, to give it body. Please note that I haven't yet tried making the vegetarian versions, but these are my best estimates. If you give it a try, or have other suggestions to veg-ify this recipe, please do leave a note, and tell me how it went.

Cajun Jambalaya with Okra

I am a huge fan of jambalaya, and it's something I almost always make at home, rather than order out. That is solely because I live on the west coast of Canada, where "jambalaya" usually involves pasta instead of rice, and seldom has sufficient seasoning - either in type or quantity, and shockingly often includes cream. When I was in New Orleans, I took great delight in sampling the extensive varieties of jambalaya available - each with a different ratio of ingredients (including seasoning), a different degree of sauciness, and a different notion as to how much one person could/should eat at lunch. Each one was a definitive jambalaya, in its own right.

Jambalaya is such a wonderfully versatile dish, that more's the pity that so few places up here get it right, and by "right" I mean an acceptable variant of the classic forms (Cajun or Creole), which is most emphatically not merely sausage and bell peppers tossed with pasta. Jambalaya needs to be a one-pot dish, rice based, and incorporating the seasonings of the Cajun or Creole variety. The rest - the protein(s), the wet/dry ratio, the choice of featured vegetables, these are all up to the cook. It can be cooked in a deep pot or a skillet, depending on how much you are making at a time.

I have been leaning toward brown, or Cajun-style jambalayas, lately, which tend not to be tomato based. This variation was conceived because I had picked up a bag of lovely looking fresh okra from the market, and needed something to make with it. As it happened, I also had some ham and a couple of chicken thighs that needed using, so, in fine ad hoc style, into the pot they went. My basic methodology is essentially the same as I previously wrote about, but tweaked to incorporate the okra.

Jambalaya with Okra
Serves 4

1 tablespoon vegetable oil
1 large onion, diced
2 medium stalks celery, diced
1 medium green bell pepper, diced
1 cup orange (or red) bell pepper, diced
2 jalapeño peppers, diced
1 1/2 cups okra, sliced
8 oz ham steak, diced
175 g boneless skinless chicken thighs (about 2), diced
3 cloves garlic, minced/crushed
3 cups chicken broth or stock
1 cup parboiled rice
1 teaspoon red Tabasco sauce
1/2 teaspoon cayenne pepper
Salt-free Cajun spice blend (to taste - start with a tablespoon)

Heat a large cast iron frying pan well over high heat. Add oil, and tilt pan to coat bottom. Add ham cubes and sautée until they start to take on a bit of colour. Add cubed chicken, and stir well, but don't allow chicken to brown. Add the onion, celery, green pepper and jalapeño, and stir.

Cook until the onion turns nicely translucent, then add the garlic, Tabasco sauce, and spices. Stir well. Stir in the orange/red bell pepper pieces and the okra until thoroughly combined.

Stir in the (uncooked) rice, making sure that each grain gets well coated by the juices in the pan. Add the chicken stock/broth and stir again, making sure that the rice grains are all submerged. Bring up to a gentle simmer.

Turn heat to very low, cover pan, and cook for 25 minutes, stirring gently once at the ten minute mark. If it seems a little dry, you may wish to add a bit more water at this point, too. If you want to go crazy and add some raw shrimp, this is also the time to do it, at the ten (or, for small shrimp, fifteen) minute mark. Garnish with a little sliced green onion, if you like, and lots of black pepper. Pass the hot sauce.

Obviously, you can switch out the proteins however you like best: smoked sausage, turkey or duck meat, rabbit, venison sausage, shrimp, oysters, alligator, crawfish, or the classic, tasso (spiced ham) for serious points. You can increase or decrease the meat(s) and the amount of vegetables, depending on your taste or what you need to use up - this is a great way to use up extra bell peppers that might be lurking in your fridge.

Ham Rotini Casserole

This is one of those dishes that grew out of a sudden desire for a creamy pasta, which is actually a pretty common occurrence in my household. In this case, there was also a coincidental need to use up some yoghurt. For some reason, ham seemed to be the perfect thing to tie it all together, since I wasn't feeling particularly in a stroganoff-y mood. Originally there were supposed to be mushrooms, as well (some creminis which also needed using up), but I completely forgot about them until I was putting the pan into the oven, and it was simply too late.

The sauce is very creamy, and a little cheesy without feeling like a cheese pasta, perhaps because the yoghurt gives it a little tanginess that cuts through the richness. While this is no health food item, with salty ham and rich yoghurt, it is still better for you than most big ol' plates of pasta at a casual restaurant, so that's some additional comfort for a comfort food dinner.

Ham Rotini Casserole
Serves 4

200 grams rotini
125 grams boneless cooked ham, diced
1 2/3 cups 1% Milk
2 tablespoons butter
1/8 cup unbleached flour
1 teaspoon chicken base (such as Better than Bouillon)
2 garlic cloves
1/2 cup shredded Parmesan Cheese
1 cup plain, thick yoghurt (such as Liberte Mediterranee)

Preheat oven to 400 degrees F (230 degrees C). Bring a pot of water to boil and cook the rotini according to the package directions (until it is just a little underdone).

In a large skillet, melt butter and stir in flour until smooth. Gradually add milk, bouillon paste, salt, garlic, and pepper. Stir all together and bring to a gentle simmer, stirring until thick and bubbly. Reduce heat; add ham cubes, cheese and yoghurt. Stir until cheese is melted. Add the drained pasta, and stir through to combine. Bake in the preheated oven for 10 to 15 minutes or until heated through.

Optional topping: Melt 1 tablespoon of butter in saucepan and stir in breadcrumbs and some finely chopped parsley. Sprinkle crumb mixture over casserole before baking. I was totally going to do that, but then (again) completely forgot. Seems to have been my day for forgetting things.

I debated trying to shoe-horn some vegetable matter into the casserole, but in the end decided that it really wanted to be a very simple sort of dish rather than a one pot meal (as fond of those as I am). I decided in the end to make a tossed green salad with rather a lot of chopped veggies in it - cucumbers, bell peppers, radishes, tomatoes, etc., partly to make up for the indulgence of the pasta, but mostly to give dinner a little freshness and crunchiness, both things that don't exactly go with the creamy hammy territory.

This dish was immediately voted "into the book", about two bites into dinner. The next time I've got some yoghurt to use up, I'll definitely be thinking of this one.

Meatballs: Pork & Turkey edition

I wasn't originally planning to post these, I just wanted some meatballs. However, after they turned out rather well (Palle suggested that they are the best meatballs I've ever made), and since I did kind of scribble down the proportions as I was going along, and since it turns out they are equally delicious cold (hello, bento!), I decided to share them.

I don't make meatballs or meatloaf very often, but I do like them rather a lot, as a main course unto themselves, as part of a pasta dish, as a little protein add-on to a salady sort of meal, or as a sandwich filling. Not to mention the "on a little toothpick" hors d'oeurves application.

The meatball matrix is pretty simple: ground meat(s) of your choice, seasoning, binder, corrector, and featured ingredient (if any). These meatballs are half lean ground pork and half ground turkey breast (hence the pale colour, in case you were wondering), seasoned with salt and pepper, fresh garlic, whole fennel seed, fresh parsley, and ground oregano, bound with egg, corrected with panko, and featuring finely chopped roasted red peppers and green onions.

As with hamburger and meatloaf making, one of the keys to great texture is to avoid over-mixing or over-compressing of the meat, and that means that the best tool for the job is your impeccably clean fingers. Don't be afraid to get right in there - you will have much better distribution of ingredients that way. I am also a fan of putting everything but the meat into a mixing bowl, giving it a bit of a stir with a fork (to break up the egg), and then separating the ground meat into little clumps with my fingers and dropping the bits on top of the rest of the mixture. Once all of the meat is aerated and added to the bowl, I get my fingers in there and toss it like a salad, to avoid the aforementioned over-compression. Once everything is nicely combined, I begin shaping the meatballs. This method works wonderfully for any time you are mixing ground meats.

Pork & Turkey Meatballs
Makes 12 large meatballs

450 grams lean ground turkey
375 grams ground pork
1 large egg
1 whole roasted red pepper (such as Piquillos)
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
1 teaspoon dried oregano
3 cloves garlic
1 teaspoon fennel seed
1 teaspoon dried basil
1/2 cup minced parsley
1/2 cup panko-style bread crumbs
1/2 teaspoon ground white pepper
1 teaspoon Worcestershire sauce

Combine all of the ingredients as described in the paragraph above, separating the meat into chunks, and then mixing in the rest of the components. Fry up a tiny nub of meat until cooked through, and taste to see if you need to adjust the ingredients - more salt or fennel seed, for example. Correct the seasoning as needed.

Place, spaced out, in a 9x13" glass baking dish. Sprinkle each ball with a little Worcestershire sauce. Bake at 400 F for 40 minutes - they should be just golden brown. Use a spoon to trim any "spill" of liquid into the pan, as you lift them out, once they are cooked through. If you want a slightly browner meatball, you may wish to brush them with a little soy sauce half way through, but note that this does add a bit of extra saltiness, too. Low sodium soy sauce might be your best choice, there.

You can fry these up on the stovetop, too, of course, although the meat mixture is quite moist, and you are likely to get misshapen meatballs for your extra effort. I highly recommend the baking/roasting method - the balls keep their shape, and you can spend the time that you would have been tending to the meatballs to do something else.

As mentioned above, these are great hot (for example, beside a nice polenta, or a potato-and-vegetable salad, or cold, in your bento (beside...a potato-and-vegetable salad, perhaps...)

If you're planning to make a meatball sandwich, you'll want to have a little sauce, I'm guessing. If you have a stash of leftover sauce in the freezer, this is a great use for it. Otherwise, you can either make a simple sauce from scratch, or purchase one. Warm the sauce together with the meatballs, if you are starting with cold, pre-cooked meatballs. You may want to toast up the bun, too, to add to structural integrity of the sandwich, given how damp even a thick tomato sauce can be. If you want to make your bread garlic bread, I'm certainly all in favour of that. I tend to use Portuguese buns, because I can get good ones in my neighbourhood.

These ones don't really look cooked, but they are - they're from the same batch as the bento shown above.. This is a flaw in the lighting/photography rather than the meatballs themselves, though. Of course, pork and turkey are very light-coloured meats, and I didn't do the extra browning step.

Hot Sauce! (Hot Orange Pork Skillet Dinner)

Oh, hot sauce. At any given time, my fridge holds anywhere from six to thirty hot sauces. It's really my go-to condiment (closely followed by mustard), and it can be used in oh-so-many different applications, from deep in the cooking process to the finishing flare, to the rescue of deeply questionable take-out.

The four lovely hot sauces that you see above were sent to me recently by the good folks at Cholula, who either stumbled upon my blog post in '06 for our Hot Sauce Tasting Party, which featured Original Cholula as the third sauce in the line-up, or they saw my back-in-the-day essay extolling the virtues of hot sauce. Either way, a quick glance at this blog undoubtedly suggests that I'd be interested in trying the new flavours, and rightly so! I was pleased to accept the offer, since I already like and buy the original Cholula hot sauce.

One of the reasons that I stock Cholula Original in my fridge is that it is a very versatile sauce, adding a little zip (it's not too hot) and has a pleasantly peppery, yet neutrally "Mexican" taste, without significantly changing the flavour profile of whatever you are adding it to. It's very good for a quick quesadilla, or to jazz up some chicken wings (or legs...), or even just on top of cheese-and-crackers, and it sometimes adds just the right note to a simmering pot of chili that wants a little something. It's perfect for making buffalo-wing pizza. But, I already knew all that. That's why I buy it. The other flavours were launched throughout North America last year.

First up: Cholula Chili Lime - a no-brainer for someone like me, who loves citrus almost as much as hot sauce.

Straight up, Cholula Chili Lime tastes just as you would expect it to. The same basic flavour profile as Cholula original (the same pepper blend, in fact, of pequin and arbol chiles, plus guajillo and paprika), punched up with lime flavour which leaves more citrus-y aftertaste. The lime flavour comes from "natural flavor", I assume, as there is no mention of lime in the ingredients. The bad news (and there is some) - the somewhat odd choice to put sugar and dried tomato into the sauce, in combination with the unspecified natural flavor/lime, gives a faintly metallic tone and aftertaste to the sauce. A lot of folks I know aren't affected by that (whatever it is that creates that particular sensitivity), but if you are someone who really dislikes lime-flavoured tortilla chips, this may not be the sauce for you. For me, it just means that I am more likely to use it as an ingredient, where that faint aftertaste can be burned away by other flavours, than as a finishing sauce for something delicate, such as scrambled eggs.

I did crack it open in time to use with a recipe that I am currently developing - Hot Orange Pork Skillet Dinner. The "Hot" in the name is from the two habanero peppers in the recipe, and they nicely blast away any aftertaste. The Cholula Chili Lime was used in the recipe itself, and as a finishing garnish.


Hot Orange Pork Skillet Dinner

Makes 4 servings
Total Prep and Cooking Time: 45 minutes

1 lb pork sirloin steak
½ teaspoon salt
½ teaspoon black pepper
1 tablespoon olive oil
1½ cups diced red onion
1 tablespoon chopped garlic
2 habañero peppers, 1 minced, 1 whole
½ teaspoon ground cumin
1 teaspoon hot sauce of your choice (I used Cholula Chili Lime)
1 cup orange juice
2 tablespoons lime juice
200 grams parboiled rice
2-3 cups diced zucchini*
1 medium red bell pepper, diced
1 cup hot chicken broth
1 teaspoon cornstarch
½ cup cold water

Cut the pork steaks into 4 equal pieces, and sprinkle lightly with salt and pepper on each side. In a 12" skillet, quickly sear the pork, and remove to a separate plate as soon as it is golden. Add the oil to the emptied skillet, and once the oil is hot, add the onions, garlic, cumin, and habañeros, cooking and stirring until the onions are softened and a bit translucent. Add a splash of water (or tequila!) if needed to prevent burning.

Add the zucchini and the bell pepper and stir again. Add the rice to the skillet, and add the hot sauce, orange juice and lime juice. Stir well so the rice grains get thoroughly coated and loosen any stuck-on bits. Add the hot water and chicken base and stir again. Stir the cornstarch into the cup of cold water, until smooth. Add to the skillet and stir carefully (your skillet will be quite full) until thoroughly incorporated and bring to a simmer.

Top with the pork in a single layer over top of the rice, cover tightly, turn the heat to the lowest setting and cook for 25 minutes. Garnish with extra hot sauce, and maybe some cilantro, if you like.

Serve with a sliced avocado, or maybe a jicama salad.

Estimated Nutritional breakdown (via online calculator) per serving: Calories: 445, Fat 10.76g; Saturated Fat 2.98g; Cholesterol 73mg; Sodium 312.57mg; Total Carbohydrate 59.77g; Dietary Fiber 5.14g; Sugars 6.03g; Protein 26.66g; Est. Percent of Calories from: Fat 21%, Carbs 54%, Protein 24% Please note: your mileage may vary.

*If you are wondering what the heck kind of zucchini is in the photo, I actually used a chayote squash, instead. Big mistake. The pieces were too large, the texture too much like apple, and the flavour contribution almost non-existent. Zucchini, my first thought, should have been the way to go. Maybe corn. I'll keep you posted.

Next up: Cholula Chili Garlic. Looking forward to it!

Are you a Cholula fan? Check out their Facebook page for contests and recipes.

Beans with Bacon

I'm a big fan of beans, and possibly a bigger fan of bacon. Fortunately, they need not be mutually exclusive.

I grew up eating Boston-style baked beans - sometimes the canned kind, but if we were lucky, the kind made from scratch, soaking the beans overnight and baking them slowly in the oven in a specially designed bean pot. Sweet and savory, hearty and comforting. Something that you wait for, and are rewarded for your patience.

I still like to make beans from scratch. Aside from the classic baked version, I developed a Stovetop version that only takes a couple of hours. It's not as good as the original, which takes about nine hours, but clocking in at under two hours, it's easier to wedge into my schedule (and it's still better than the canned kind).

The beans above, however, are not the "Boston" kind at all. They're a simple pot of pinto beans and bacon, with the flavour supplemented by onions and garlic, cooked with bayleaf and salt. It's a sort of foundation recipe, good on toast for a light supper, or to be seasoned up in the manner of your own choosing. I took inspiration from the Mexican dish called "thick beans", served as a protein/starch side dish, and often cooked with lots of lard. The lard in this recipe is only a little of the rendered bacon fat, but I've left the chunks of bacon in.

The thing that really elevated this dish was the quality of the bacon. My friend Rodney smokes his own bacon, and is extremely generous in sharing the bounty. I cut the bacon into thick lardons, and seared it quickly to render enough of the fat to saute some onions and garlic. Then I added the dried (washed) pinto beans, the bayleaf, and enough water to cover the beans generously, brought the whole thing to a simmer, and let it cook, covered over the lowest temperature on my stove until the onions and garlic dissolved, and the beans became tender. I checked on them periodically, topping up the water level as necessary as the beans absorbed the liquid.

The final stage was to add a little salt, and then mash up some of the beans and stir them back into the pot, thickening the gravy and cushioning the rest of the beans.

The beans were exactly what I wanted them to be (although I'm now contemplating making a spicy version, which would also be good). Even more, as the leftovers were turned into a delicious bean and bacon soup, which, on its own is a fine reason to cook up a big pot of beans.

Spanish Pork Burgers

This was really, really good.

I'd made the Spanish Pork Burger recipe from Eating Well Magazine once before - well, once as burgers, and once as meatloaf, and I liked it. Finally having made it with pimentón de la vera (smoked paprika), and having vastly improved my burger seasoning skills, I absolutely love it.

What else did I do differently? Quite a few things, actually.

This time, I also used a smaller bun, a potato bun from my local supermarket's in-house bakery. It had a very, very slight sweetness to it that complemented the earthy lemon saffron mayonnaise (which sadly, is not visible in the picture, but is a delightful, vivid yellow), and the smokiness of the paprika. The lower bun-to burger patty ratio is generally more satisfying, I think. I didn't use Manchego cheese, this time, I simply used a nutty mozzarella that needed using up, and it was fine, if ever so slightly less Spanish. I didn't grate it, but simply laid it onto the pork patties in the grill pan.

That brings up another thing - the grill pan. This is definitely the right pan for the job - you get the slight char on the striped bits, without blackening the entire surface of the burger. It is infinitely more attractive, but also has a positive effect on the texture and flavour of the meat.


I also used the Piquillo peppers recommended in the recipe as opposed to regular roasted red peppers. I liked the firm texture and the flavour. I used them as a bottom layer between the mayonnaise and the pork patty, topped the pork with the cheese and then the sauteed onions, and then the toasted top bun. No other toppings were needed or wanted - they could be safely relegated to a salad on the side, and consumed leisurely after the burgers were devoured.

And devoured they were. I can hardly wait to have them again.

Roast Pork Shoulder

There isn't much about the pig that I don't like, culinarily speaking. I'm a huge fan of pork tenderloin, which is about as low-maintenance a piece of meat as you can find - tender, lean, boneless, and I'm very fond of ham dinners, as well - preferably from a nice, country-cured red ham, but I'll take an Alton Brown-style city ham with gingerbread crust, too. However, while I do pork chops, tenderloin, ribs, ham, and all manner of sausage (and I've roasted a pork loin or two), I've never really tried my hand at the classic Roast Pork. I recently decided that it was high time I did.

If there is a culture that is pre-disposed towards expertise in the roasting of pork, it is Cuba. Roast pork sandwiches are a national dish, after all - either as "cubanos" or the smaller, snacktacular "medianoches". Where does the pork come from for these ubiquitous favourites? From a nice, seasoned roasted pork shoulder. The Cubans call it "pernil".

Start with a lesson from the best, I say!

I staggered back from the grocery store with a whopping (to me) 5.5 lb. boneless pork shoulder roast, and proceeded to do the following:

Cut some deep, short cuts into the roast (think shallow stabs with a pointy carving knife). Slather thoroughly with marinade, allow to rest, covered, at room temperature (but in a sealed environment, in this case my cold microwave) for three hours, then roast fatty-side up in a 350 F. oven for 3 hours (covered with tinfoil), uncover, remove juices to make gravy, and roast at 400 F. for another half-hour until dark golden brown. The internal temperature for those counting such things, was 170 F., which co-incidentally is the "pork/veal" setting on my probe thermometer. Allow to stand for fifteen minutes before roasting - which gives you more than enough time to make gravy.

And do, please do, bother to make gravy. A little roux, a little wine, about half of the juices from the pork, and a little water is all you need - no further seasoning required. Not only is it lovely on the black beans and rice that you should be serving with this, it makes an excellent medium for re-heating slices of pork for dinner the following day (assuming, of course, that it isn't all going to be et at once, or saved for cold sandwiches).

The pork was meltingly tender, thoroughly seasoned, and wonderfully flavourful - and possibly, even better the next day, re-heated in its gravy.

I should mention that classic pernil is made with a shoulder that is skin-on, to give a wonderful crackling, but that option was not available to me.

Here is the marinade:

4 cloves garlic
5 teaspoons kosher salt
1 tablespoon black peppercorns
1 handful fresh oregano leaves

All pounded to a smooth grey-green paste in the mortar & pestle, to which is then added: 2 tablespoons white wine vinegar, and 3 tablespoons vegetable oil.

This definitely requires an encore performance, and soon! Because it serves a lot of people, it would be perfect for a casual dinner gathering, so that might be just the thing.

Spanish Meatloaf

I don't recall eating any meatloaf in Spain. I do recall albondigas, the wonderful little meatballs, which I mostly encountered as tapas in Barcelona. This is different. This was inspired by a rather successful (if you don't count me pretty much scorching the buns) dinner of Spanish-inspired pork burgers, the recipe for which was in Eating Well magazine. I greatly enjoyed the flavours of the finely chopped Manzanilla olives and the earthy saffron. It was as different (in a good way) a burger as I'd had in a very long time.

Since, a few days later, I still had a quantity of both sautéed onion rings and lemon-saffron mayonnaise left from the original dinner, I decided to redux the dinner. However, instead of the potato salad that I served with the burgers, I went with an orzo-chickpea salad with lemon dill dressing, and instead of fussing around with individual burgers, I made the whole thing into a meatloaf, so I could have leftover slices for sandwiches.

I was unable to find sufficiently lean ground pork on this particular shopping excursion, so I settled on half medium pork and half ground turkey, which also turned out to be pretty delicious. I also decided to actually add some saffron right into the meat mixture, which is what gives the little swirls of vibrant yellow that you can see in the photograph. The flecks of red are diced pimento. It worked very well: the flavours stayed true to the original recipe, the meatloaf was moist and tender - partly thanks to the well-minced sautéed onions.

It was fun, a little different, and definitely in the running for repeats. I may even decide to make them into little albondigas, and serve them as a party snack - with a little dipping sauce made from the lemon-saffron mayonnaise, on the side.

Just Another Meatball

I like meatballs. They weren't something that I experienced much of when I was growing up, but we certainly had ground meat patties (usually beef) and sauce, and that is certainly in the same family. Little meatballs, though...that was more work, although I doubt that my mother (who was willing to make individual meat pies with two-crusts and full crimping for our family of five) was afraid of a few minutes' more work. Perhaps she was merely constitutionally averse to the meatball notion, for some reason.

I don't usually use a recipe to make meatballs, but I do try to stick in some sort of flavour-family, and that occasionally requires some sort of organizational decision making. While I once made "Christmas Dinner meatballs" (although for a Christmas party, not for our actual Christmas dinner, I confess) using ground turkey, dried cranberries, and stuffing-seasoned breadcrumbs...if I could have found a way to get yams and brussels sprouts in there, I would have...I usually go with a more "what's around the house" mandate.

They always have garlic. They usually have some sort of egg or egg white binding them together. They always have more seasoning than simply salt and pepper. Sometimes I serve them on spaghetti, in the classic Italian-American fashion, reserving any leftovers for sub sandwiches the next day, but sometimes I like to explore the other alternatives. Most cuisines have something along the lines of meatballs, all varying in size, composition, and serving format. Even my filling recipe for gyoza - is something along the lines of an Asian meatball wrapped in dough.

The above-shown meatballs were a stab at cuisine from northern Europe. I was going something for a Danish feel, borrowing heavily from frikadeller, but I felt compelled to jump-up the seasoning a little with some powdered mustard seed and a wee pinch of allspice. The accompaniment was Red Cabbage with Apples, mushroom sour cream gravy, and basmati rice (my standard, go-to rice around the house). The base for the meatballs was a pound of lean ground pork seasoned with salt, pepper, the above-mentioned mustard seed and allspice, some grated garlic, dried breadcrumbs (panko), a good splash of heavy cream, and an egg-white. Fried in butter, because I am told that is the correct way, but with a little splash of canola oil to help keep the butter from burning.

While I can't make any claims to authenticity of a Danish meal (since the Danish half of my household would certainly set me straight if I did), it did have a lovely, northern European comfort food vibe about it, and was pretty darn tasty. The leftovers warmed up pretty well for lunch the next day, eliciting stares and sighs and outright drooling in the lunchroom. I bet they would have made a pretty good sub, too.

Versatility (Roasted Pork Tenderloin)

One of my favourite cuts of meat is pork tenderloin - one that I have only become familiar with in the last couple of years. Until I was inspired by a photograph I saw online, the only use I had for pork tenderloin was Porc Normandy - a braised, creamy dish from northern France. I just didn't know what else to do with the stuff. It seemed kind of expensive for stir fry, and I thought that the oven would dry it out.

I was wrong on both counts, as it turns out. Even a small-ish, on-sale piece of tenderloin goes surprisingly far in a stir fry (I'm planning a double ginger stir fry as I type this), and as for the oven - roasting a tenderloin is easy, low-stress, and has an unbelievable flavour payoff for even the most minimalist treatment. Roasting, therefore, is the method that I have turned to the most since I started regularly adding pork tenderloin to my shopping cart.

Roasted Pork Tenderloin

Preheat oven to 325 F.

Trim the roast of any silverskin, being careful not to remove too much of the actual meat. If there's a skinny end on your roast, tuck it under and tie it with a piece of butcher's string to create an even thickness for the length of the roast.



Line a large baking dish with tin foil, and spritz with a little oil. If you like, put down a layer of sliced onions or fennel, and use that as a bed for the pork. Spritz the pork with a little canola oil, and season generously with coarse salt and pepper. If you're feeling feisty, add any other seasoning that comes to mind - cumin is good, as is powdered chipotle pepper.

Roast, uncovered, for about 50 minutes per pound. Allow to rest out of the oven for five minutes before slicing on the bias, and serving. A sauce is nice, but totally optional.

If you should (mysteriously) have any leftovers, or had the good sense to roast more than you needed, slice them thinly or thickly for sandwiches the next day, or use them as part of a burrito filling. Tasty. Dead easy.

Cinco de Mayo (Red Adobo of Pork and also Black Bean Soup)

Last year, I had a Cinco de Mayo party; this year, I am not so organized. Cinco de Mayo commemorates the victory of the drastically outnumbered Mexicans over the Napoleonic army at The Battle Of Puebla in 1862. Although it is primarily a regional holiday in the state of Puebla, it has some recognition throughout Mexico, and in many American cities, too. It is not Mexico's Independence Day (September 16), but it is a celebration in a similar spirit.

While it may not be Mexico's Independence Day, it holds great significance in the establishment of a national identity for many Mexicans, and as such is perfectly in keeping with my interest in the food of cultural celebrations.

While I may not have managed any particular arrangments for this year, I have been cooking a lot of Mexican food lately, including Mayan-style black bean soup and these adorable little tostadas made of Mexican adobo of pork shoulder, some awesome spinach tortillas made by a local factory (you can actually taste the spinach!), a some feisty green salsa using Brandon's recipe (of Orangette-fame). The pork shoulder took an impressive three hours of simmering in first water and then a brick-coloured adobo sauce made with pureed ancho chiles, onions, garlic, and surprisingly minimal dried spices, such as cumin and oregano. This is all about the chiles, but it is not a particularly hot dish. Anchos are, as Bobby Flay likes to say, "like spicy raisins." There's an underlying sweetness that sets off the mild heat of the pepper, and contrasts beautifully in this recipe against the vinegar-edge of the adobo.

I'm already on the record as saying that miniature = cute, and these are no exception. The first night I served them, we left the tortillas soft (but warm) and adorned them with sliced peppers and a smear of refried beans, and the second night, I crisped the tortillas in a cast iron frying pan until blistered with gold and served them with just the salsa and a little cilantro. The tortillas are about a finger's-length in diameter, making these just a few quick bites each. You could make even tinier ones, just one bite each, and I probably would if I were serving them as party snacks. In fact, I might just have to have a party so that I can do so!

Red Adobo of Pork
(Adobo Rojo de Cerdo)
adapted from the excellent New Complete Book of Mexican Cooking by Elisabeth Lambert Ortiz

7 ancho chilies, toasted, de-stemmed and de-seeded, torn into pieces and covered with warm water
3 lbs. boneless pork shoulder, cut into one-inch cubes
1 onion, peeled, halved, and stuck with 2 cloves
1 onion, peeled and diced
3 cloves of garlic, chopped
1/2 teaspoon ground oregano
1/2 teaspoon ground cumin
black pepper
1/2 teaspoon sugar
398 ml./14 0z. canned, diced tomatoes
1/4 cup cider vinegar
1 tablespoon lard, bacon drippings or corn oil
Salt
Black pepper

Start with the pork. In a heavy dutch oven, place the pork and the clove-stuck onion with enough lightly salted water to just cover. Bring to a simmer, reduce the heat to a very gentle heat, and cook (covered) for 2 hours. The meat will be very tender. In the final hour of the meat simmering, start the prep for the sauce.

Let the peppers rest in their warm bath for 20 - 30 minutes, until thoroughly soft. Remove the peppers from their water and place them in a food processor, along with the chopped onion, garlic, cumin, oregano, sugar and tomatoes. Process until you have a fairly smooth, heavy puree. In a heavy skillet, heat the lard, and add the puree. Saute the mixture over a lowheat, stirring constantly, for about five minutes.

When the pork has finished simmering, remove the pork pieces from the liquid, which has become a lovely pork-stock. Strain the stock, and reserve one cup. Freeze the rest for the next time you want to make black bean soup.

Thin the ancho mixture with the reserved pork stock, and transfer the mixture to your now-empty dutch oven. Add the pork back to the pot, add the vinegar, and stir well. Simmer uncovered over low to medium-low heat. The sauce will finish cooking and become quite thick. Taste the sauce, and add salt and black pepper as needed.

Serves 6. Leftovers make awesome burritos with beans, grated cheese, and salsa.

Autumn's Here

Autumn is undoubtedly here. There is a chill in the air, although it has been blessedly sunny so far, and the wind is starting to rattle the gradually baring branches of the trees. Everything is starting to turn to shades of gold and umber. It's time to take out the comforting, hearty foods of the harvest, to turn on the oven and glory in the warmth of the kitchen instead of the oppressive, hot slog of summer. One of my favourite things to make at this time of year is Braised Chicken & Fennel. It doesn't need the same length of time in the oven as beef or pork ribs, but it is full of slow-cooked deliciousness and rich autumn flavours.


I particularly like using sweet potatoes in this dish - the colour gives a little pop to the soothingly pale fennel and garlic cloves, although regular potato (or even carrots) works as well. The fennel becomes very tender here - a melting sort of subtly, brought into sharp focus with a scattering of fennel seeds. The sauce is not thick, but provides a creamy gravy to ladle over each plate, or to mush around a piece of warm, crusty bread.

While I gladly welcome the change to my favourite season, I'm a teensy bit reluctant to let go of summer entirely. Since pizza, to me, is a year-round endeavour, it seemed as good a dish as any to enjoy in these still-sunny last days of September.

I am playing constantly with my crust recipe - walking the thin line between crispy and chewy, hoping for spring in the crumb and a satisfying firmness that will stand up to the toppings - in this case a spicy tomato sauce, some hot Italian sausage (left over from the Braise) and a generous amount of finely chopped green pepper.

All is well in the changing of the seasons.