The Real Meaning of Comfort Food

When life around you tumbles into chaos, some might argue that cooking is not always the wisest course of action.  My response to them would probably be something approximating, “Well, you’ve got to eat, don’t you?” 
 
That was pretty much the case this weekend.  On Friday, I made a quick dash to the store to pick up a few remaining items necessary to prepare a sultry Moroccan ragu of pork, onion, carrots, butternut squash, chickpeas, enriched with layers of aromatics and sweet spices― all simmered into a state of lush complexity.   

Back at home, it was pretty clear that I had a problem with my kitchen sink.  When the faucet was on, water flowed from under the sink onto the floor.   Once I determined the water was no longer gushing, I placed a pan under the sink, mopped up my mess, and debated my next step. Living out in the country is wonderful, but there are a few drawbacks.  Such as: calling the plumber late on a Friday.   Additional scheduling time plus higher house call fees always give me pause.      

 

I sent up an SOS to my neighbor, Gerald, our resident handyman.   As long as I didn’t run water, we agreed that there was no great emergency; he would stop by in the morning with his wrench and we would assess the situation then.    

 
So much for any big cooking plans; they were squelched for the night.  Still in damage control mode, I decided to keep a lid on making any more of a mess than necessary and opted for a simple veggie burger dinner from the freezer.

In the morning, before Gerald arrived, I warmed a loaf of whole wheat soda bread from the freezer,  set out a charming bowl of muscadine jelly, a ramekin of butter, napkins, plates, coffee cups and juice glasses.   Just looking at it made me happy! Yes, food is very therapeutic.     

Meanwhile, since my urge to cook was percolating up again, it seemed like the ideal opportunity to begin simmering a pot of chicken stock.   From the freezer, I pulled out a recently frozen roasted chicken, dropped it in a pot of water, and got it simmering on the stove.  What better to time to prep the basic ragu vegetables than while adding the trimmings to the pot?  In went a rib of celery, a pinch of thyme, and a bay leaf, too.   There!  The vegetables were all prepped, tucked back in the fridge, and ready when needed.  Simmering on the back of the stove, the stock smelled divine.  All was well.   

It also looked like it I could quickly conjure up the Moroccan pork marinade.  In a blink I had a heavenly blend of ground coriander, cumin, ginger, turmeric, paprika, and pepper, all bound with a hint of lemon juice and a dash of olive oil.   Mmmm, what a mood elevator!

 At the market earlier, I had elected to decrease the usual 1-1/2 lbs. boneless pork for a ¾ pound slice of tenderized pork plus a package of sliced cremini mushrooms.  Such a small amount, I might as well cut the pork into cubes add it to the marinade, and store it in a zip lock bag.  Then, I gave it all a good massage and popped it in the fridge.    No muss, no fuss; another step done.  

 
Gerald arrived to a spotless kitchen; we put our heads together, and got to assessing the situation.   Yes, it looked like a clogged drain alright, but peering under the sink he spotted other issues that looked questionable― albeit easily remedied.   Waving his arms wildly, he put forth possible scenarios.   More tools required, more mop up, the day dragged on; the kitchen was slowly unraveling.  By late afternoon, the situation had worsened and Gerald was flummoxed.  When the faucet was on, the sink leaked more than ever and water now gushed from an errant hose onto the kitchen floor.   I thanked Gerald for all his help (sigh) as he dashed out the door shaking his head.  He had football games ahead and a big screen waiting for him at home.   
 

It looked like I had no choice but to call in the plumber; but not today.   I surmised I was safe as long as I didn’t run water in the sink.  I had Moroccan ragu in my future and tomorrow was another day.
 

Notes about the recipe:  this is a very adaptable concept.  As mentioned, I substituted cremini mushrooms for part of the pork.  Preserved lemons are on my hit list, but for now, I used the lemon as indicated, plus I included the lemon remains to the ragu as it simmered. I also added 2 to 3 cups of chopped chard from the garden with the return of the pork.  Since my ragu had plenty of liquid when done, I thickened it with 2 tablespoons instant tapioca pearls.  It proved to be outstanding thickener. I served it over a simple couscous seasoned lightly with fresh ginger and a bay leaf.  Bliss in a bowl.

Moroccan-Flavored Ragu with Pork and Winter Squash

Adapted from Eating Well

Ingredients

2 lemons

2 1/2 teaspoons extra-virgin olive oil, divided

2 teaspoons paprika, preferably Hungarian

1 teaspoon ground turmeric

1 teaspoon ground coriander

1/2 teaspoon ground cumin

1/2 teaspoon freshly ground pepper

1/4 teaspoon ground, plus 1 pinch, divided

1 1/2 pounds boneless pork chops, (1 inch thick), trimmed of fat, cut into 1-inch cubes

14 ounces chicken broth

1 cup butternut squash, peeled and diced (1/2-inch dice)

1 cup carrots, sliced (1/2 inch thick)

1 cup canned chickpeas, rinsed

1/2 cup onion, chopped

1/2 cup canned diced tomatoes

2 tablespoons preserved lemon, chopped rinsed, (see Note; optional)

1 tablespoon tomato paste

2 teaspoons minced garlic

1/4 teaspoon hot sauce, such as Tabasco

1 Pinch ground cinnamon

1 Pinch ground allspice

 

Instructions

Zest and juice the lemon(s) to get 1 tablespoon zest and 2 tablespoons juice; reserve the zest. Combine the juice, 1/2 teaspoon oil, paprika, turmeric, coriander, cumin, pepper and 1/4 teaspoon ginger in a medium bowl. Add pork; stir to coat. Marinate in the refrigerator for 30 minutes or up to 4 hours.

Heat the remaining 2 teaspoons oil in a large nonstick skillet over medium-high heat. Add the pork and cook, stirring, until no longer pink on the outside and beginning to brown, 2 to 3 minutes. Transfer the pork to a plate.

To the pan, add broth, squash, carrots, chickpeas, onion, tomatoes, preserved lemon (if using), tomato paste, garlic, hot sauce, cinnamon, allspice, the reserved lemon zest and the remaining pinch of ginger to the pan. Bring to a boil, stirring occasionally; reduce heat to a simmer and cook, stirring occasionally, until the vegetables are tender, 20 to 30 minutes. Stir in the pork, return to a simmer and cook, stirring, until the pork is just cooked through, 2 to 5 minutes more.

Serve over couscous, bulgur or rice, and garnish with a blend of 1/4 cup chopped cilantro, 2 tablespoons chopped scallions and 1 tablespoon chopped mint.

Liver for Lovers: Bolognese Sauce

Warning!  This blog may not be suitable for all readers.  Please proceed only if you appreciate chicken livers.

Recently back from my ten-week stint in Mexico, I acknowledge that there are other foods in life beyond chilies, tortillas, cheese, and all the fabulous dishes celebrated there.

   

In fact, on my return I had an unexpected craving for chicken livers.  It’s not a complete surprise, and because I get a hankering for them about once a month, I tend to stock-pile a container of them in my freezer to head off this sudden biological urge. 

Yesterday, as I mulled over a nice weekend meal, what glee did I express, when behold!  To the rear of my freezer, I spot a lurking carton of chicken livers amongst my depleted pickings.  Hallelujah sister!  Joy upon joy, I had all the fundamentals for Chicken Livers in Bolognese including three fresh Roma tomatoes and from out in the garden plenty of sage and rosemary.

I make my Bolognese the traditional way:  a meat sauce simmered with tomatoes and milk.   I elected to go with ground pork instead of veal, turkey, or beef because it too, was in my freezer.  I can’t say enough about the addition of the milk to the sauce.  Fear not:  the tomatoes will not curdle the milk; along with a bit of Parmesan cheese, it tends to tenderize the meat and harmonize the sauce.  The combination of herbs and spices, plus the addition of the chicken livers, create a marriage made in heaven. Trust me on this one.

Now, you are doubly forewarned ― because this comes from an unabashed liver lover.

Chicken Livers in Bolognese Sauce

  Ingredients

  3        tbsp. olive oil -- divided

  1         lb. chicken livers

 1/3     cup flour

             salt and pepper    

  1         onion, peeled and chopped

  1         poblano or other green pepper, seeded and chopped

  1         carrot, peeled and chopped

  2         cloves garlic, peeled and chopped

  3/4    lb. ground pork, veal, turkey, or beef

  1         tsp. fresh rosemary, chopped

  1         tsp. fresh sage, chopped

  2        tbsp. red wine

  3        Roma tomatoes, chopped

  2 – 3  tbsp. tomato paste

  ½       tsp. freshly grated nutmeg

  ¼       tsp. cayenne

  ½       tsp. salt and freshly ground pepper

  ½       cup low fat or other milk

  2         tbsp.  Parmesan cheese, crumbled

  12       oz. chicken stock,  or beef

             few dashes Worcestershire sauce

             salt and pepper

  1         tsp. aged balsamic vinegar (optional)

Preparation

Clean the liver, cut into manageable pieces and pat dry; sprinkle lightly with flour, salt, and  pepper.  In a large pot heat 2 tbsp. oil and add livers.  Brown well on all sides and remove.

To the pot, heat remaining oil, add vegetables to soften and remove to separate bowl.  Add pork to the pan, break up and brown lightly adding herbs and spices.  Deglaze with red wine and loosen bits from pan; add tomatoes, tomato paste, reserved vegetables and the stock.  Add the milk, Parmesan, Worcestershire sauce, salt and pepper and stir to combine all. Partially cover pan and simmer about 45 minutes, stirring occasionally until sauce thickens slightly.  It will thicken as it sets.   

Add livers to pan, simmer to finish cooking them and to blend flavors, about 10 minutes; adjust seasoning.  If too tart, add a pinch of sugar or a splash of aged balsamic.  Best if allowed to set overnight to mellow flavors.  Serve over pasta, polenta, or on the side with risotto.  Yield:  4 servings.

  

Chicharrón… more or less

In Mexico, chicharrón can cause strong reactions and it is often the subject of considerable discussion, even debate. 

Stateside we are familiar with the addictive crunchy snack made from deep fried pork skins. Of course, bags of them are everywhere in Mexico, some are sprinkled with chile blends, and others can even include a personal sample of hot sauce.

However, that is just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to their possibilities in Querétaro.  For the more adventurous, the skins are not fried.  They can be purchased raw at local markets and made into an array of dishes by home cooks.  Tostadas and tacos often feature this style: skins simmered for various lengths of time in a favorite sauce can result in an end product that ranges from barely cooked and squeaky pink, to well done and meltingly soft.

Part of the traditional gastronomy of Querétaro are gorditas, corn patties filled with a variety of fillings ranging from nopales, chorizo, potatoes, cheese, or of course, chicharrón.  My Sunday breakfast today featured the ever popular migajas gorditas, tortilla dough stuffed with a filling of chicharrón simmered in a savory chile sauce. 

 There are other forms to consider:  there are guacamayas, or small sandwiches called bolillo tortas that are stuffed with chicharrón and avocado, seasoned with lime and red mashed salsa of tomatoes, onions, chili peppers.  Or consider crema conchis, a soup flavored with chicharrón and chile; and of course where we would be without chicharrón sorbet?  

In Mexico City I had my first experience with tostadas de chicharrón. The crisp corn tortilla was spread with refried beans,  sheets of fried chicharrón, and finished with assorted toppings:  cabbage, onion, radish, avocado, crema, cheese, and a boat-load of salsa options. The chicharrón tends to soaks up the toppings and softens it instead of breaking into unwieldy pieces. 

Chicharrones in Salsa Verde is very popular in this area and it really requires no recipe.  The format is similar to the above tostadas.  Begin by heating about 2 cups of your favorite salsa verde; add ½ pound of chicharrón and simmer to soften, but not mushy. 

Serve with warm tortillas or tostadas spread with refried beans if desired; top with shredded cabbage or lettuce, onion, radishes, crumbled cheese, avocado, and favorite sauces. 

Gingersnaps meet Pork

Easter week I decided I would create a nice meal incorporating pork and cabbage. That certainly left a universe of options, so I’m not quite sure how I ended up fiddling with Sauerbraten.   I confess, I don’t believe I  had ever tasted it before either. 

With than in mind, I commence from a place of curiosity - rather than familiarity.  I suspect the reason I had never made Sauerbraten is because of the gingersnap issue. I’ve always liked the idea of adding this yummy cookie as a final fillip to the dish, but of course that would require having some on hand. Alas, this just happened to be the serendipitous situation, when I discovered a few stragglers in the freezer - left from the holidays.

Granted, Sauerbraten is traditionally made from a tough cut of beef or game allowed to sit in a flavorful marinade for days before cooking to tenderize and tame it; in the olden times it would have likely acted as a preserving agent, as well. I began with a tender and lean top boneless pork loin roast and decided to take a little creative license by searing it first, then simmering it in its marinade until tender… with a final sojourn in the refrigerator. I’m far happier accomplishing as much work as possible up front – and not waiting until crunch time.

The roast marinates in the fridge a day or so with an occasional turn to evenly absorb flavors. It is returned to the stove for a simple re-heat and kept warm while the sauce is prepared with the lovely waiting gingersnaps. It sounds crazy, but it works deliciously.

By this time, the sauce has developed some serious complexity compounded by the beautiful balance of spicy sweetness from those devilish gingersnaps against the earthy tartness of the marinade.  Dribble this noble sauce over the amazing sliced meat; offer Braised Cabbage with Juniper Berries, some Buttered Noodles with Sautéed Mushrooms, and you’ll understand why this is considered one of the world’s most famous dishes.

Sauerbraten
(loosely adapted from Bobby Flay, Food Network)

2 tablespoons canola oil
3 pounds top boneless pork loin roast, (or 3-4 lb. boned and rolled beef rump roast)
salt and pepper

Marinade
1 medium onion, peeled and coarsely chopped
1 stalk celery, coarsely chopped
1 large carrot, peeled and sliced thin
2 cloves garlic, crushed
1/2 cup cider vinegar
1/2 cup red wine vinegar
1 1/2 cups water
6 whole cloves, and same # juniper berries, opt.
8 juniper berries (optional)
8 black peppercorns
2 bay leaves
1/2 teaspoon mustard seeds, or whole grained mustard
1/2 tsp. thyme
1/2 teaspoon salt and freshly ground pepper
2 tablespoons unsalted butter
2 tablespoons flour
6 - 2" gingersnaps, finely crushed with rolling pin
2 tablespoons honey, or to taste

Braised Cabbage
2 tablespoons unsalted butter
1 large yellow onion, peeled, halved and thinly sliced
2 pounds red or green cabbage, cored and shredded
1/2 cup reserved cooking liquid from sauerbraten
1/2 cup chicken or vegetable stock
1 Tablespoons juniper berries
Salt and freshly ground pepper

Noodles with Mushrooms
2 tablespoons unsalted butter
8 ounces portabella mushrooms, sliced
1 clove garlic
2 tablespoons chives or green onions
Salt and freshly ground pepper
1 pound egg noodles, cooked al dente

Heat the 2 Tbsp. oil in a large Dutch oven. Season the roast with salt and pepper and sear 2-3 minutes on each side. Remove the roast.

To the pot, add the onion, celery, carrot and garlic and toss briefly. Add the vinegars, water, and seasonings through thyme, salt and pepper. Return the meat and allow to simmer 2-3 hours, turning every hour hour, until it is tender but not falling apart. Place the meat in a storage container. Allow the marinade to cool, strain it and pour over the roast. Refrigerate 1-3 days, turn occasionally to allow marinade to infuse entire cut.

To finish, slowly reheat roast in marinade, when hot carefully remove meat to a platter and keep warm.

To make the sauce: In a saucepan, heat butter and add flour to make a roux. Set aside approximately 1/2 cup marinade for the braised cabbage. Add the remaining liquid to the pan to create a thick gravy-like sauce. Add the crumbled gingersnaps, adjust with honey to taste, salt and pepper as needed.

Carve the roast, serve topped with some of the sauce, along with Braised Cabbage and Noodles with Mushrooms. Serves 6-8.

Braised Cabbage:  Heat butter in a large saute pan over medium heat. Add onion and cook until soft. Add the cabbage, cooking liquid, stock, the juniper berries, and season with salt and pepper, to taste. Cover and cook until the cabbage is wilted, about 15 to 20 minutes.

Noodles with Mushrooms:  Saute the mushrooms in butter and garlic, salt and pepper and cook to release juices, add the green onions. Cook the noodles in a large pot of boiling salted water until al dente. Drain well, toss with the mushrooms, and adjust seasoning.

Meditation on Chile Verde

With the big Oregon State/Boise game scheduled for prime time viewing this past week, I wanted to have a big pot of piping hot Chile Verde ready when hunger hit. I am so glad for the forethought, because as it turned out for this Oregonian, the chili was the high point (no pun intended) of the night. In a nutshell, Boise controlled the game and left us in their dust. It didn’t stop there; low points kept coming when Oregon’s LeGarrette Blount decided to deck a Boise teammate for heckling him post game. The remembrance of this bungled match-up was even more unsettling as fans watched while Blount was escorted/dragged off the field, screaming and kicking like a spoiled child.

Thank heavens the Chile Verde was deliciously soothing! Although I had little doubt about that--since preparing chili, in one form or other, should be an act of love. Excellent chili is a thoughtful process that requires several steps and a certain amount of time and effort.

As far as I am concerned, the ultimate flavor of Chile Verde depends on the addition of pork. In this case, I begin with a lean sirloin pork roast and cut it into chunks. I brown it well, and allow it to slowly simmer until fork tender and the liquid has pretty much cooked away. Then, I pull it apart with a couple of forks until it falls into shreds.

While the pork browns, simmers, and stews, I launch into prepping the very easy verde sauce. I begin by husking, and simmering a dozen tomatillos for the base. When they are soft, I drain off a portion of the liquid and puree them in the blender until thick. I prep a handful of jalapeno peppers, a couple of bell peppers, and an onion into strips. (In the past, I have also used ripe and flavorful poblano peppers--instead of the bell peppers, which can be fairly bland.)

Adding separate layers of flavor to the pork intensifies the final result; so this is when the onions, peppers and garlic are added to the pork and allowed to soften. Following that, another round of seasoning is added with cumin, oregano, chili powder - and perhaps a bit of smoked paprika, which mysteriously lurks in the background. All of this is lovingly tossed together until aromatic. The tomatillo sauce is stirred in and allowed to simmer into the pork a few minutes; then the cooked beans are added, the pot is reduced to low, and barely simmered for an hour or so.

Of course, chili is always best when the flavors further develop by refrigerating overnight. Here, the tomatillos provide a tarter, more acidic flavor than the tomatoes. The amount of heat can be controlled by the removal/addition of the membrane and seeds of the chiles used. Of course, jalapenos and poblanos are hotter than bell peppers. On final, I stir in the crowning touch, a handful of chopped cilantro--which further enhances the tomatillos with a pronounced herbal-citrus bite. I like mine with a drizzle of chive crema. Be still my heart.

Chile Verde

2 1/2 pounds pork roast, cut up

2 tablespoons vegetable oil

1/2 onion, chopped

2 cloves garlic, minced

1/2 teaspoon oregano

6 jalapeno peppers, seeded and chopped

2 bell peppers, seeded and chopped

1 whole onion, chopped

2 cloves garlic, minced

1 tablespoon chile powder, and/or smoked paprika

2 teaspoons cumin

12 tomatillos, halved, 1/2 cup chopped onion, pinch oregano simmered til tender

4 - 12 oz. cans assorted beans: red, black, pink, white, etc., rinsed and drained

Salt and pepper to taste

2 tablespoons cornmeal, thinned in 1/2 cup water (optional)

1/2 cup chopped cilantro (optional)

In a large pot brown the pork, add onion and garlic and toss until aromatic. Sprinkle with salt and pepper. Cover with water and simmer until fall apart tender, and liquid is absorbed; one hour or longer.

Prepare tomatillos: remove husks, if large cut in half; rinse and place in a saucepan with 1/2 cup chopped onion and a pinch of oregano; add water to barely cover. Bring to a boil, reduce heat and simmer until tomatillos are soft, about 15 minutes. Allow to cool. Place in blender and puree; set aside.

When the pork is tender, break chunks up with a fork to lightly shred. Add peppers, onion and garlic and toss until aromatic and onion becomes soft. Add chili powder, cumin, and toss till aromatic. Pour in the tomatillo sauce and simmer briefly. Add the beans and toss to combine simmer 45 minutes; if you wish to thicken it further, stir in cornmeal thinned in water and continue to simmer until thick another 15 to 20 minutes. Adjust seasoning. Stir in cilantro, if desired and serve. Serves 8.

Note: for Chive Crema: stir 2 Tbsp chopped chives into 2 cups yogurt until desired consistency. Add a dash of salt and taste for seasoning. Let stand a few minutes before serving to blend flavors. ~~

Olé, Posole!

I wish you could smell this burbling cauldron of Posole. Succulent pork bites, onions, and assorted peppers all melding together in a spicy sauce heady with chilies, garlic, oregano and cumin. Shades of chili con carne, no beans! It’s almost time to add the pièce de résistance: hominy, and perhaps later a light sprinkling of cornmeal for extra thickening.

Simmer away my beauty: a tour de force worthy of Super Bowl Sunday or any other spectacular occasion!

For me, it’s all about the hominy aka posole or pozole - there’s something here that pushes my buttons. From the nutrition angle it’s sadly lacking: corn kernels that have been stripped of their bran and germ.

Hominy is addictive, while living in South Carolina I couldn’t get enough of it. Grits, or ground hominy, is standard fare there - at breakfast, lunch or dinner it’s used very similar to potatoes. In a sense, hominy plays well with others. It’s compatible, durable, has its own strength and character, but does not dominate.

I’ll let the Posole rest overnight. As with many hearty dishes, it’s even better the next day. Then, I’ll have plenty of time to set out a selection of toppings for dressing up the Posole according to personal whim and fancy.

There will be chopped tomato, green onion, cilantro, some avocado or guacamole, grated cheese and lime wedges to perk it up, and my old standby, Cabbage Salsa. Of course there will be chips and salsa and flour tortillas for ripping and wrapping. Oh, zippity do dah!


Red Chile and Pork Posole1 cup water, boiling
4 dried chilies, pasillo, jalapeno, ancho any combo
4 cloves garlic, chopped
1 1/2 teaspoons ground cumin
1 1/2 teaspoons oregano
2 1/2 teaspoons salt
2 tablespoons vegetable oil, more if needed
3 lb boneless pork shoulder, cut - into 2" cubes, or tenderloin
4 c hominy , yellow or white, two 16 oz cans drained, rinsed
1 medium onion, cut into small chunks
1 small anaheim chili pepper, cut up
2 tablespoons cornmeal, optional
Accompaniments
1 1/2 cups shredded lettuce, or Cabbage Salsa (see Condiments)
3/4 cup sliced radishes
3/4 cup sliced green onions
1 1/2 cups grated Monterey Jack cheese

Combine the boiling water and chilies and allow to soften about 20 minutes. Reserve the soaking liquid. Stem and seed the chilies. In a blender or food processor, puree them with the reserved soaking liquid along with garlic, oregano and cumin, salt.

In a large pot, heat the oil over moderately-high heat. Add the pork and cook until it begins to brown. Add onion and 1 or more anaheim or any other pepper type preferred. Stir in the chile puree and water to barely cover. Bring to a simmer over moderately-high heat, reduce the heat and cook at a bare simmer, partially covered, until the meat is falling-apart tender, 1-3 hours, depending on cut. Half way through cooking process add hominy. If desired thicken with cornmeal if desired, stir occasionally to avoid burning.

To serve: Ladle Posole into bowls and offer accompaniments.
Offer toppings: Cabbage Salsa or shredded lettuce, sliced radishes, sliced green onions, tomato, cilantro, lime wedges, avocado, grated jack cheese. Serves 6 ~~

Note: substitute equal amount of fresh chicken pieces and cook until tender