From the Heartland...

I swear, all my good intentions about keeping this blog up fell to the wayside for the last couple of months...in case you hadn't noticed.

Work devoured me, and I was busy having nightmares about Hell's Library (you've just not lived until Gordon Ramsay screams at you for not processing holds fast enough and that book carts are backing up), and worrying about the success of my newest project.  I know I don't usually talk about work on this blog, but this customer has consumed most of my waking and sleeping hours for the last year, with it coming hard and heavy for the last month in preparation for go live.

It's not every day that your company brings the largest library consortium in the country online with 426+ libraries coming together from 4 different systems...and it worked out pretty well, if I do say so myself.  There's the inevitable data cleanup and system tweaking that happens with any migration, which will be ongoing for a few weeks, but everything worked and worked at the appointed go live hour!  It was a great load off my pea brain, and maybe, just maybe I can get back to blogging and sleeping without Gordon Ramsay.

 I spent the entire week in southern Illinois for this go live, and had a few culinary adventures.  I took my co-worker who was on site with me over to the Paducah, KY area, specifically Grand Rivers, to eat at Patti's 1880s Settlement.  Yes, after flying into STL and driving for 2.5 hours, I then suggested we go to dinner that was another hour away.  I am the best like that.

I was introduced to Patti's about 15 years ago, when some quilter friends convinced me to come with them to Paducah for the American Quilters Society's National Quilt Show.  (I know, I know...I have a hard time picturing me at a quilt show, too. I'm so not handy with a needle and thread...although I know how to sew on a mean button.)

What enticed me to spend the weekend with them was one of them saying we were going to eat at a place where "they ask you if you want a 1-inch or 2-inch when you order a pork chop."  Sold!

Patti's is a weird little place.  The decor is a whackadoo mix of grandma's parlor, grandpa's front porch, quilts, and other assorted oddities.  All of the female servers wear granny dresses, and the tea served in Mason jars.  Oh, and did I mention the bread comes in a flower pot?  With strawberry butter.

I personally think the 2-inch pork chop is a little too much; it's more like a personal pork roast, and you really want to try and save room for at least 1 bite of dessert.  You may remember this post from a few Thanksgivings ago, when I shared the recipe for the Boat Sinker Pie?  You know, the one with 5 sticks of butter?  This is the home of that pie.  And, they serve it with ice cream!

UPDATED:  LinC reminded me that I had forgotten to post a picture of said pork chop...the pork chop that was practically the size of the plate upon which it was served! Unfortunately, we had already devoured the flowerpot bread.  And, I may as well confess that I gnawed on the bone...but like a dainty wild animal with no growling and furtive looks.


At the end of our long week, we were heading back to St. Louis to spend the night before flying home on Saturday.  One of the folks at the customer's site mentioned a German restaurant in a little town on our route back.  Off the beaten path, in Mascoutah (say that fast 3 times!), we came upon the Roemer Tof Restaurant.

It was the trip for restaurants with weird decor.  There were these giant Christmas wreaths hanging down from the ceiling, like chandeliers, with fancy decorated cookies hanging from them.  I have no idea what they were for, and I didn't care after I got my Holzfäller (Lumberjack) Steak, which was a pork steak topped with roasted onions and bacon...that "pork on pork" action gets me every time.

I opted to sub out my skillet potatoes side dish for some Kässpätzle.  Y'all know my love of noodle things and that I've never really met a noodle that I didn't like, and this was no exception.  It was basically spatzle with Swiss cheese...sort of a Bavarian mac and cheese, if you will.  (And, I must confess that I have owned a spaztle maker for years, and I've never actually made spatzle.  I used it to rice potatoes before I got a potato ricer.  Somewhere, Alton Brown is howling in pain from all the unitaskers that I have.)

After all this excitement, I'm home for awhile, so I should probably do a little cookery.  Or, at the very least, a little grilling...I need to burn the pollen off my grill for sure.

Am Not Dead...Just Stir-Frying

I know, I know...I've been extremely lax with the blogging. But, in my own defense, I'm not sure I've done anything interesting enough to actually blog about...however, I shall endeavor to be better.

So...how about some whack-a-doo pork stir fry for starters?

I just can't seem to get the basics of stir frying. Seriously, how hard should it be? I can saute, can't I? (Went to school for that!) I can pan fry and braise, et cetera, et cetera. But, every time I try this stir fry business, I feel like it goes all to hell in a wok basket. But, I won't give up...because, while it may not be picture-perfect stir fry, it doesn't usually taste bad.

So, I've conglomerated up this lo mein-ish recipe from several different sources, and let's just see how it works.

Whack-a-Doo Pork Lo Mein

1 - 1-1/2 lbs thin pork chops

3 vegetable oil

2 Tbs sesame oil

Salt and freshly ground pepper

2 teaspoons Chinese five-spice powder (you know you've always wanted to try it)

2 large eggs, beaten

1/2 pound shiitake mushrooms, stemmed and thinly sliced

1 package fresh stir fry veggies (broccoli, snow peas, carrots, broccoli slaw or whack up whatever your little heart so desires in the way of veggies...the key is whack thinly and into small pieces)

2-3 cloves garlic, finely chopped

1/3 to 1/2 cup soy sauce

1 package soba, udon, fettucine, whatever long noodle shape you like

Procedure (or what should happen vs. what actually happens when *I* stir fry...)

1. In a large, deep nonstick skillet or wok, heat 1 tablespoon vegetable oil and 1 tablespoon of sesame oil over high heat. Season the pork with salt, pepper and the five-spice powder; add to the pan and stir-fry for 2 minutes; add garlic and stir fry for 1 more minute. Transfer to a plate.

2. Heat 1 tablespoon vegetable oil in the skillet, then add the eggs and scramble for 2 minutes. Push the eggs to the side of the pan, add the remaining 2 tablespoons oil and lower the heat to medium. (This is where things started going horribly awry, because my eggs did not scramble nicely. I think the wok was too hot, and they started to scorch, so I scrambled faster. Not a pretty sight. I ended up dumping them out onto a paper plate, then I had to scrape down the wok before I started with the veggies.)

3. (Remember you've added that last 2 tablespoons of oil; 1 sesame, 1 vegetable.) Add the mushrooms and the stir-fry veggies and stir-fry for 2-3 minutes. Stir in the soy sauce and reserved pork, making sure the pork is heated through.

While I was cooking the pork, I threw the package of soba noodles in a pot of boiling water. I drained those, rinsed with cold water, then I threw them in after the pork--see, it's sort of a lo mein-ey dish.

As you may have noted in Step 2 above, the eggs started to go south, which totally threw my stir-fry game off. I had even mise en placed all my ingredients, which I only do about half the time when I cook anything else. Yet, it seemed that I was just running about 3 steps behind where I should be, hence the funked up scrambled eggs...which, by the way, I threw in anyway.
The Man ate it, I ate, and we survived. See, not very exciting or interesting at all. Now, if I had decided to stir fry a poodle, that might have amped this post up a little bit.

Right now, I'd be more than happy to stir fry The Goldfish, since he managed to unroll an entire, brand-new roll of bathroom tissue out into the hallway. Why do they want to eat paper? What important vitamin or mineral are the little demons missing that make them crave paper? I suppose I should be thankful that they don't crave gasoline and aren't out trying to siphon my tank to quench their unholy thirst.

So, maybe I'll get a little more adventurous during this holiday weekend...I'm taking off on Friday to have a 4-day weekend, so surely I can cook something halfway interesting, can't I?

The New Favorite Vegetable

"I think Brussels sprouts might be my new favorite vegetable," says The Man. I am still on the fence about this, because macaroni and cheese is my favorite vegetable...wait, are you saying that mac and cheese is NOT a vegetable? Ha! Tell that to generations of Southern cooks and purveyors of the classic "meat and 3" cafe offerings...mac and cheese are always on the vegetable side of the menu.

(Actually, I'm not sure I have a favorite vegetable...one that I prize above all others. I like just about all veggies, especially vine-ripened tomatoes...which aren't really vegetables, but fruit, so go figure.)

To recover from the trauma of the sardines, I sort of went all out in the comfort food direction for Tuesday night's dinner. Those lovely Berkshire pork chops, a creamy Parmesan risotto (yes, it was from a box, but it was still good!), and the baby Brussels sprouts sauteed with butter and bacon. I even gave Mark Bittman the chance to redeem himself with the pork chops...still not forgiving him for the vinegar pork roast.

The problem with grilled pork chops, as my buddy Mr. Bittman says, is that they get dry, and it's because American pork has been bred to be leaner, yadda, yadda. Hence the whole brining thing. But, he says no matter that they have the propensity to get dry, he likes the taste of grilled pork chops and makes and eats them anyway. He's come up with some tips and tricks to try and keep them moist and flavorful...the foremost trick is to get a pork chop that's at least 1-inch thick, because the thinner ones will cook fast and are more prone to dryness.

Behold the Berkshire pork chops from the farmer's market...the $11.99/pound pork chops from the farmers market, which were worth every single penny we paid for them. They were like small pork roasts, and the flavor was amazing. (I forgot to take before shots, but the after shot is pretty sweet, don't you think?)

Bittman suggested that you bring the pork to room temp as you preheat the grill. Then, generously season your chops with salt and pepper, slather them with a tablespoon or two of olive oil and throw a tablespoon or so of lemon juice on them right before putting them on the grill.

Sear them on the hottest part of the grill for about 2 minutes on both sides, then move to a cooler section and cook for about 10-20 minutes, depending on the size of the chops. After they have finished cooking (use a meat thermometer to test the temperature--needs to be about 140 degrees F for medium--pull them off, drizzle a little olive oil over them, and let them rest for a few minutes before serving.

Back to the sprouts...Brussels sprouts have never been high on my list of things to eat. Many times, while on the road, I was asked by my project team what I wanted for lunch. My standard answer was "I eat anything except canned tuna, liver, and Brussels sprouts, so if we could avoid the All Canned Tuna-Liver-Brussels Sprouts Cafe, I'll be fine."

It's not that I don't want to like Brussels sprouts, because I do...they are such wee tiny cute veggies--sort of the Pop'ables of the vegetable food group. (Unfortunately, it seems that Pop'ables have been discontinued...I really liked the Reese's Peanut Butter ones.) But, I've never been able to get past the bitter, overcooked cabbagey taste of them...probably because most of the ones I've ever had have been old and overcooked.

(I also feel the same way about kumquats. They're cute, so they should be tasty. I've not had one in decades, but I vividly remember NOT liking them at all, and feeling very duped when I tried them. Because, they look like miniature oranges and should taste like miniature oranges, is probably what my child mind was thinking, and it was a cruel, cruel joke that they did not. Damn the universe for being so unfair!!)

Enter the bacon. Just about everything on the planet is better with bacon, and what's not better with bacon just needs cheese or chocolate. We have about a half pound of Nueske's bacon left in the freezer from an extremely thoughtful holiday gift that The Man received from my friend Tessa. It is some damn fine bacon.

I chopped 3-4 slices up and sauteed them to render the fat and get them crispy. I put the bits on paper towels to drain, and set the pan with the bacon fat aside while I worked on the sprouts. While the bacon was cooking, I put a small pot of water on to boil. Then, I pared off the tough bottom core of the sprouts and removed the outer couple of leaves, which sort of came off when I cut off the core. Then, with my paring knife, I made an "X" in the bottom of each one, not going all the way through, to facilitate the blanching. I popped them into the boiling water for 5-6 minutes, then pulled them out and plopped them into an ice water bath to "shock" them and stop the cooking.

After they had cooled, I patted them dry and cut them in half. I heated the bacon fat back up and added a tablespoon of unsalted butter, then sauteed the Brussels sprout halves until they started to caramelize a little bit. And, you know what? They weren't bitter and were darn tasty, if I do say so myself. I'm wondering now if I can use the bigger fresh ones and get the same result by blanching and then sauteeing, or if it really has more to do with the size. I'll keep you posted.

Here's a cool blog post with pictures of Brussels sprouts in progress--very interesting--plus a recipe for Brussels sprouts with lemon-mustard sauce, which I think I might try in the next week or so.

I'm still wary of the kumquats, though...but, maybe, just maybe they will surprise my adult self, and we'll find out they aren't Satan's Citrus after all.

Real Men Do Love Quiche...

At least the one in my house does. I've never seen anyone get as excited about quiche as The Man does. He specifically asked me if we were having quiche on Wednesday, after I had mentioned making it this week while scratching out the grocery list on Sunday in my plague-induced fog. (Yes, what is there to love about a sinus infection? Especially one that affects your equilibrium so much that you are pretty much a spot-on Captain Jack Sparrow impersonator.)

It was weird not going to the grocery store for myself. I felt very incomplete and uncomfortable at the thought of not doing my own shopping...but I wasn't moving off the couch for love nor produce at that point. Besides, who likes to follow someone through the market who is sneezing and snorting and generally making all sort of icky liquidy sounds? Anyway, I got over it, even though it seems I need to give The Man a lesson herb identification. I asked for some fresh thyme and got sage, but it didn't really matter, because the dish turned out kind of icky anyway. (And, I know, I 'm weird because I adore grocery shopping...it's my favorite kind of shopping, even surpassing shoes, and I will cheerfully go multiple times in the week if necessary. Besides, if you haven't figured out by now that I'm weird, you might need to read some older posts!)

We have sort of resolved to eat better (i.e. healthier) this year, so I dragged out my "healthy" cookbooks to get some ideas. There was a recipe for some broiled pork chops with cooked apples that sounded good, so I put those ingredients on the list. Forgot part of the ingredients for the "with cooked apples" part (no, not the apples!), so I decided to punt the apples portion. I was sick, I didn't really care too much about what I was eating, just knew I needed to eat something besides hot Tang. (Don't laugh...it's actually kind of tasty when you are sick. And, if it's good enough for astronauts...)

The spice rub for the pork chops called for paprika, salt, pepper, dried thyme, and a little allspice. The allspice sooooo did not work with this at all, or at least to my Tanged-out tastebuds. The Man said it was fine, but to me, there was some sort of unholy wang to my beloved pig, and I just wasn't happy with the entire meal as a result. (I know, why was I cooking when I was sick? I had to do something to get off the couch that day, so cooking was it. I was starting to feel like Kirk and the tribbles, because I was comatose on the couch with poodles all on top of me for hours.)

Rambling on now to the actual topic of this post--the quiche in question. I put eggs and a pie crust on the list, because I sure as heck wasn't making my own pie crust, and The Man wanted to know if I was baking a pie. When I said "quiche," he really did get excited and wanted to know when we were having it. And, on Wednesday, he called me and asked if we were having quiche for dinner that night.

Quiche really is simple to make, and I think it's a great meal for any time--breakfast, lunch, and dinner. A few eggs, some cream, a few other ingredients, cheese, and viola! Tasty good stuff. We made Quiche Lorraine in Pantry class, which classically, is bacon, cream, and eggs--no cheese. Why the hell they left out cheese, when the French never seemed to shy away from anything with fat in it, is a mystery to me.

Our neighbors, B&G, keep a small flock of hens in their backyard. (We live in the county; they can do that. The Man is eternally afraid that I will insist on installing a goat or llama in our backyard because "we live in the county.") In the spring, they are inundated with eggs, when "the girls" get back on schedule, and G is most gracious about sharing them with us. They were so prolific last year, that I was making quiche on a weekly basis, and cobbled together this recipe from conglomeration of several different ones

Bacon-Spinach-Mushroom Quiche

Serves 4 (or 1 Man with a small slice for you, if you are lucky!) : )

6 slices of bacon, cooked and crumbled
2 cups fresh spinach leaves, chopped
2 cups mushrooms, sliced
4 eggs
1 1/2 cups cream (heavy or light--your preference, or you can use half-and-half)
1/4 teaspoon nutmeg
1 cup shredded Swiss cheese
1 cup shredded cheese Cheddar or Parmesan cheese
1 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1 deep-dish pie crust

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees F. Place pie crust in pie pan.

Combine eggs, cream, nutmeg, salt, and pepper (I usually just eyeball the amount of pepper) in a medium mixing bowl and whisk to blend. Add in the crumbled bacon, chopped spinach, 3/4 cup Swiss cheese, 3/4 cup other cheese (I usually use Parm), and the sliced mushrooms.

Pour egg mixture in to the pie crust and sprinkle with the reserve 1/4 cups of cheese. Bake for 34-45 minutes, or until set. Check after 30 minutes or so to make sure the edges of the crust aren't too brown. (I have a handy dandy pie crust shield to alleviate this problem...works much better than me trying to construct one out of tin foil and being increasingly frustrated because I cannot make a circle!!! Plus, my poor pie crust edges need all the help they can get. I cannot flute to save my life...I'm always making "rustic" quiches.)

Let the quiche set for 5-10 minutes and cut into wedges and serve.

This quiche doesn't exactly fall into the "eat healthier" realm, but it could very easily. You could chunk the bacon, use the half-and-half instead of cream, and more veggies. You might be able to use lower fat milk as well, but I'd probably reduce that to 1 cup and you might have to cook the quiche a little longer at a lower temp.

Anyway, I'm almost recovered from the snot monster of love, and am planning next week's meals. No more pork chops with allspice, for sure!

Them barbecue blues...

Another thing that appeals to my inner southern belleness is barbecue, of which we have none in my immediate area. Or, at least none that I consider edible on a regular basis. How can that be?, you ask, you live in the South, home to more barbecue cook-offs than you can shake a spit at. Trust me. There's nothing within a 45+-mile radius. Zero, zilch, nada...or at least anything that I would deign to call barbecue and actually eat. How hard is it to smoke a piece of pig, I ask you? Evidently too damn hard.

(NOTE: This is not going to be a discussion of North Carolina vs Texas vs Georgia vs Alabama, etc. This is a discussion about MY longing for something good to eat...no matter what state of the Union produces it.) (And, "barbecue" is a noun, not a verb. We eat the barbecue, we don't barbecue.)

The actual closest thing, mileage-wise, is a place called The Rib Ranch, but it's Texas-style barbecue, which is a whole 'nother animal to us in the Southeast ( but still beef and pork) and not exactly what I'm looking for...but, in the Ranch's favor, they use actual wood to cook. Their ribs (both pork and beef) are pretty smokin', but I'm not always in the mood for ribs. I want some pulled pork, mixed with the crunchy, smoky outside meat. Add a little vinegar slaw and pile it on a white bread bun, and I'm your slave for life.

Nothing is worse than showing up at a barbecue place, mouth all ready for some delicious smoked pork meat and realize that what you are eating has never been close to a flame. Ever. It tends to make me very cranky and very unhappy, which in turn makes The Man unhappy, because he has to listen to me kvetch about it all the way home. It's like I have barbecue pipolar disorder (BBD). I'm all hyped up on the way to a new place, chattering a mile a minute about what kind of slaw do they have, will it be pulled and not the dreaded chopped, and sunk lower than low on the way home from yet another disappointing experience. (Not that I am making light of anyone who suffers from an actual bipolar disorder.)

We've trekked to a little place in Ellijay, GA, called Colonel Poole's. You have to love a place that has a bajillion cutout wooden pigs stuck on the hillside behind the restaurant. They call it the "Pig Hill of Fame." The best part about the Pig Hill? The wooden pigs are placed so they form the shape of a giant pig. The kitschier, the better, I always say. The pork is good, the slaw is vinegary, so it fits my acceptable standard for barbecue.

Poole's also fits the bill for The Man's criteria for a barbecue shack--he always wants to know if the place has burned down. His reasoning is if it burned down at least once, it's gotta be good. Makes as much sense as anything else. Poole's has burned, and quite spectacularly so, based on the photos that line the walls.

Swallow at the Hollow in Roswell, GA, is very tasty, and almost what I am searching for, but again the hike. However, they do serve beer and have live music on occasion, so I think they are elevated from barbecue "shack" to barbecue "joint."

And, lest I forget, there's also Fat Matt's, which is mostly ribs, and again "the hike." However, I would probably sell the Mother Who Never Cooks out for their rum beans recipe. It's pretty darn wonderful. So, I do have some options for good barbecue, but not nearly enough and not even remotely CLOSE enough.

So, I worked from home on Wednesday, since I had the ol' post-op follow-up visit that afternoon, and it just made no real sense to trek into The ATL for about 4 hours of work before I had to trek home.

On my way to the checkup, I stopped in at our newest restaurant, a ubiquitously named {insert a man's name here} Barbecue. I had high hopes for this place--we had tried to eat there a couple of weekends ago, but they were closed. This guy was taking it slow and easing his way into the restaurant scene--he was open from 11-2, Monday through Saturday, for the first few months he was open, trying to build up his clientele, and then opening one evening a week for dinner...which is a smart move, I think. The Saturday day that we tried to get in, we got there a few minutes after closing, which was disappointing. However, we were encouraged by the wonderfully smokey aroma inside, and the sight of an older man out back, manning a fire pit. The menu was pretty simple--pork barbecue in the form of sandwiches and plates, with sides like beans, slaw, and Brunswick stew. There was evidence of a homemade lemon pie as well.

(On the Brunswick Stew front--this is one of those things that everyone says their regional recipe is the original recipe...and how it got associated with barbecue as a side dish or first course accompaniment, who knows? There is just as many bad versions of Brunswick stew as there are good ones...if you can find a truly good one, then it's really pretty Good Eats, as AB would say.)

Anyhoo, I decided to run by and grab a quick sandwich on my way. It was about 1 pm, and there was only one other guy eating. This is not a good sign...this place should still have a few stragglers hanging around from the earlier 11-12 lunch rush. But, I'm still game to give it a whirl--it still smells pretty good inside--all smoky and meaty.

I order a sandwich and a drink, and after ascertaining that the slaw is a mayonnaise-based one, I decline its addition. (I could go on for a whole lot of bandwidth about the proper slaw for barbecue, which is a finely chopped, slightly sweet, vinegar-based one, but slaw or not, the meat has to stand up on it's own without any help or masking.) Seeing as how I am running later than I want to be, I opt to get it To Go and eat in the parking lot of the doctor's office.

The portion of meat was generous. It was tender and moist, but it had a weird aftertaste to it. The sauce, which was on the side thank pig!, was nigh unto inedible, with more of the weird flavor. But the kicker? Was the bun. The stupid white bun. It was so off tasting and off putting that I couldn't even eat the sandwich as a sandwich, and I ended up pulling all the meat out and eating it with my fingers, cavewoman style.

I can't properly describe the flavor, other than I thought it might have been made in China, and this was what melamine tasted like. Seriously, how hard is it to get a proper white bread bun? Personally, I think the standard should be Sunbeam, but that's what I grew up with...go with what you know. Seriously, most local type industrial bakeries make a fairly decent bun, and the the pork sandwich bun should just be a vehicle for holding the meat together and getting it down your gullet. It should not really have any other discernable flavor other than that of white bread. (And, this is one of those things for which white bread is a requirement, like 'mater sandwiches...wheat bread is not allowed. Ever.)

And, this is really the last straw for me. Again, how hard can this barbecue bizness possibly be? (I realize this comes under the headings of "famous last words," and "put your money where your mouth is.") So, I'm getting a smoker. Seriously. I've been threatening it for awhile, but I think it's time to fish or cut bait. And, if I get good enough at it, I think I just might open a barbecue shack of my very own. The Man has offered to burn it for me, so we can get those great local color pictures of us standing around amongst the fire trucks at 3 a.m., in our bathrobes, watching our dreams go up in flames. (You know I wouldn't be nearly so tongue-in-cheeky about this if my barbecue shack really burned, don't you?)

I will not fall into the trap of too many side dishes--you need slaw, baked beans, a good mac and cheese, and krinkle-kut french fries, and you could ditch the mac and cheese if necessary. I'm kinda 50/50 on the Brunswick stew thing, but I'll keep an open mind. I'm keeping it simple on the desserts, too. A chocolate pie, a lemon pie, and of course, my favorite banana pudding. And, when we're out, we're out for the day. And, I think I shall call it "Mary Had a Little Pig," and I will be fierce in my devotion to the gods of barbecue...so much so, that I need a least a year of research...by research, I mean traveling to barbecue festivals and soaking up the smoke, so to speak, by observation and tasting. (I may never get out of the research phase, but won't it be the most fun research ever?) I wonder if I could get an internship at Big Bob Gibson's? (Those people really are barbecue gods!)

Plus, I need some time to collect those requisite pig tchochkes that are de rigueur for most barbecue joints and shacks in the South. Because, somehow, I don't think poodle collectibles will quite fit the bill, do you? Plus, I want a sign like one of these:













Who doesn't want a legitimate excuse to have a giant neon sign with a pig in a top hat?

BTW, I checked out fine at the doc's. His technique seriously rocks, and I would recommend his parts removal service to anyone!!