Makin’ Bacon

I have always loved cooking with my children. When they were little, they would sit on the counter and help add ingredients to the mixing bowl, happily licking the beaters afterward. They would stand on stools and stir pots, picked veggies from the garden to help make salads, and gleefully made my nana’s shortbread recipe, which they would mix only with their hands, butter and sugar gushing between their little fingers. But I still enjoy that kitchen time with my kids today, even though they are adults.

Brilliant Daughter is my frequent companion in both savory and sweet endeavors, and was my collaborator on Eat Drink Merry. She is my canning assistant every spring, summer, and fall and often brings some really good recipes to light. I spend far less often in the kitchen with Butcher Son and, not surprisingly, the main ingredient involves meat of some kind. We’ve tried more than a few sausage recipes and he experiments with marinades on a regular basis. More recently we have had a yen to try our hand at smoking.

So we started out with pork belly. Butcher Son brought home two slabs for us to try our hand at smoking.

I had purchased a bacon cure when we were out visiting family in Colorado last January (and which caused me a bit of grief at the airport due to its nitrate/nitrite content.) I poured over several of the books I had (Smoking Food: A Beginners Guide and Jam It, Pickle It,, Cure It) and came up with a bit of a hybrid cure. I mixed it up, rubbed it on and sealed the two slabs in Ziplocs. (I should note here that there was one small hesitancy on my part when rubbing up the belly. There were actually nipples on the belly, which were so pale and small, you might have missed them, but which was a vivid reminder—to me—that I was looking at what had been an animal. Some might find this a bit uncomfortable, but it is the reality of what feeds us.)

Each day I checked the plastic packages in the fridge, turning them over and poking and prodding to see how they were coming along. They were probably ready after seven days, but there was one little problem: We didn’t have a smoker. No one we know has a smoker. So, Butcher Son, who has a knack for being creative, asked around and found someone willing to donate an old Weber barbecue for transformation. And boy did it need some transforming.

When the Weber landed in our driveway it was a rusty, dirty, falling apart hunk of metal. But on his lunch hour Butcher Son took it apart and started cleaning it. He washed, he scrubbed, he sanded. Then the thing literally fell apart in his hands. So on his day off, he redrilled holes, put the legs back on with reinforcement, scrubbed some more, and then headed out to buy some charcoal and wood chips.

Last Thursday he assembled the grill, and we began the process to cold smoke the pork belly, after a 10-day cure in the refrigerator. For four hours, I babysat the smoker, adding coals and wood chips as needed, making sure that smoke was still curling out of the upper vents. I watched as the pork belly went from pale white to faintly brown, to heavily tea-stained slabs. I worried that the coals weren’t hot enough, that they were too hot, that they would go out. But everything went well. And we had our first product.

Friday morning, we sliced it up and fried a few the bacon on the stove. I always find it more gratifying to eat the things I have taken the time to make. In fact, I always prefer to make things from scratch and if I had all the time in the world, I would probably make just about everything myself. But I am a realist and I cannot store all the ingredients or equipment needed and I will probably never have that much time. (Now I understand why large families were the norm back in the day, as it takes a lot of hands to make your daily bread and butter…literally.)

And despite my worrying, the bacon tasted great. Smoky, not too salty. And really not all that hard to do. Just takes time and patience, and a little creativity from my son.

Happy Accidents

Wednesdays are a full house for dinner. Brilliant Daughter stops by after her weekly afternoon volunteering at NCEFT, an equine therapy facility for children and veterans, plus Butcher Son and his girlfriend are here. So I try to make something special, with the occasional dessert thrown in. Not as full out as Sunday dinner, but close.

Today I wanted to make a big batch of chili and cornbread. But my pantry had other ideas. Despite turning over every can on the shelves, Mother Brady’s cupboard was apparently devoid of any beans other than cannellini and garbanzo, neither of which I wanted to use. But I did spy a large can of white hominy, kept on hand to make pork pozole. While I wasn’t feeling like making a variation of pozole, I liked the idea of creating something new. A Southwestern stew, perhaps?

I started by browning lean ground beef and tossing in a bit of garlic. Then finished off the cooking with a bit of beer from Butcher Son’s kegerator (which I guess makes us a full service restaurant and bar!). I added a teaspoon each of ancho chili powder and regular chili powder, plus a half teaspoon of chipotle chili powder. Then dumped in one can of fire-roasted tomatoes, plus two cups of the homemade tomato sauce we jarred last summer. This conconction simmered for a half hour before I added in the hominy. Back on the heat for another half hour.

I finished it off with a cup of my homemade chipotle cream sauce, an all-purpose sauce that has a bit of heat to it and which can be used in a variety of Mexican dishes—from tacos to burritos—as well as a dressing for taco salad, sauce for pasta or a dip for chips! (It’s featured in my Eat Drink Merry cookbook, but I’ll provide the recipe below as well.)

Talk about YUM! I kept going back and sneaking tastes all day long. In fact, I was afraid I would eat the whole pot before the family came home. But I tempered myself, and managed to save enough to share. And to top it off, I made cornmeal dumplings, which sat nestled together on top and concealed the fact that I had been depleting the main stew for the last four hours.

And so my happy accident will now become a standard, owing to my own rave review and that of my family. Sometimes it pays to dig around the pantry and be creative….

Chipotle Cream Sauce

This is an all-purpose sauce that has some heat to it. I have used it in all varieties of Mexican dishes, from tacos to burritos and as a dressing for taco salads. It also works well as a pasta sauce and a dip for chips.

4-5 chipotles (dried or canned)

8-10 ripe tomatoes

1 large yellow onion, sliced

3 carrots, sliced

3 cloves garlic, minced

2 tablespoons olive oil

3/4 cup sour cream

1 mashed avocado

cilantro

white pepper

salt

If using dry chipotles, remove stems and seeds and soak in hot water for 15-20 minutes until soft. If using canned chipotles (en adobo), take seeds out and pour 1/2 cup hot water over to soak for a few minutes. Drain and chop the chipotles, saving the liquid.

Roast tomatoes until blackened. This can be done on a barbecue grill, over a gas flame on the stove, or under the broiler. Roughly chop up the roasted tomatoes and put into a bowl.

Saute onion and carrot in oil on medium heat until soft, but not brown. Put garlic in at the end of the saute. Add tomatoes and any residual tomato juice. Bring to boil and simmer 10 minutes. Add chipotles and cilantro. Simmer another 10 minutes. Cool mixture.

Once cool, puree with immersion blender, standing blender or food processor. Use additional chile water if you need to thin the sauce. Stir in sour cream and mashed avocado, add salt and pepper to taste.

First Attempt: French Bread

For Christmas in 2009 Butcher Son bought me Peter Reinhart’s Artisan Breads Every Day, a book I had been wanting. But with kitchen reconstruction, all my cookbooks were consigned to a cabinet in the garage for 5 months. Once the kitchen was complete, I had no display piece for my collection and they remain relegated to the far regions of our home, blocked by our treadmill and various other household items. Periodically I clear a path, open the cabinet doors and look longingly at them. I touch their spines, pull one or two out, and remember fondly recipes I have tested out of them. Once and a while I get a bug up my butt to use one of them, which was the case this week.

My brother, who shares my love of the kitchen, sent me a recipe for last week for La Daube de Boeuf with Press Wine. His missive, short and sweet, said, “From the Wine Spectator – sounds excellent (uses lardons!). Would go great with Bordeaux.” (He is also a oenophile.) So we both decided to make it for Sunday dinner. We chose a marbled stew meat over the hard-to-find beef cheeks and he traveled over to Bristol Farms to get pork belly, while I was fortunate to have three pounds of it curing in my fridge (courtesy of Butcher Son). We marinated our meat for 24 hours in red wine, chopped our veggies, and cooked away, 380 miles apart.

I got to thinking that some fresh French bread would go great with stew, and since my mother had generously offered to bring dessert, I had some extra time to make it. So I grabbed that aforementioned Artisan Breads Every Day, and went straight to the French bread recipes. To my disappointment, the dough needs to be started 24 hours prior, something that I should have done while marinating my meat in a whole bottle of wine. But hubby went out and got me the requisite flour and yeast, and I scoured around for an alternate recipe.

I found just such a recipe on a post on Steamy Kitchen blog. Titled, “Baking the Perfect Loaf of French Bread,” it was a recipe I could accomplish by dinnertime. I followed the directions and in a jiffy had a two-loaf batch mixed, kneaded and ready to rise. So easy, I decided to make another batch, thinking that four loaves would be better than two, right?!? I left them alone to bubble and rise and then shaped them into long loaves. I placed them in baguette pans that I have had sitting in my baking cabinet for a decade, a gift from my grandmother who used to bake bread. The second rise was only 30 minutes and then came the baking.

I used my handy dandy Thermoworks digital oven thermometer, a holiday gift from Brilliant Daughter, which allows me to place a thin metal probe into whatever is baking and set a temperature timer. (Takes a lot of the guessing out of baking and worked wonderfully in this instance.) Within 20 minutes, I had four browned baguettes. I resisted the temptation to tear into one right away and set them to cool.

Taking them out of the pan, I noticed that the underside was not browned nor crisped, probably a function of the pan. I, personally, like a crisp crust all the way around, but the rest of the family steadfastly maintained that the softer crust was better. And given that two loaves disappeared along with the stew, I can’t argue with their preference. It was light, tasty and a great sopping utensil for the winey broth of the stew.

This recipe was easy and quick to make (excepting the rising time). I would definitely recommend it to anyone who is hesitant to tackle breads. I was somewhat disappointed overall with the results, however. It was more like the type of French bread you would buy at Safeway rather than a good French bakery. The interior was closer to a standard white bread than the airier French version. It would be great for hoagies or deli sandwiches (or banh mi), but not what I would use served with cheese or to make crostini. Which means that I am going to make the time to try Peter Reinhart’s version.

And la Daube de Boeuf? Both my brother and I decided that it was just okay, nothing spectacular. And that our own versions of stew were superior in taste and ease of cooking.

My New Favorite Breakfast: Jam & Bread Pudding

Sometimes I get into a rut in the kitchen. It can be due to the ingredients in my pantry, the ease of a recipe, or my sheer laziness. One such item is Cafe Beaujolais Coffeecake, a breakfast favorite. Torn out of the Food section of the San Francisco Chronicle two decades ago, this recipe is from Mendocino's famous Café Beaujolais. Delicious and easy to make, it is my default breakfast dish, great for larger crowds and holidays. But I’ve been looking for a companion dish, something that is easy and goes together quickly. Scanning my archives of clippings, I found it. Sitting there, waiting to be seen for five years!

Jam and Bread Pudding is a recipe I clipped from Food and Wine in December of 2005. Why I have never made this before is beyond me, and is clearly a mistake on my part. It takes about 30-35 minutes from start to finish and the ingredients are simple. I’ve served it twice now and it gets raves each time.

It is somewhat delicate in the mouth, due to the use of challah or brioche bread, and has just the right amount of sweet for kids and adults alike. The original recipe suggests you serve it with maple syrup, but there is absolutely no need. It is terrific all on its own.

I used homemade strawberry jam but I think this would work well with seedless raspberry, plum, or peach jam as well. Give it a try, you won’t be disappointed.

Jam and Bread Pudding

From Food and Wine, December 2005

One 1-pound loaf challah (or brioche) bread, sliced 1/2 to 3/4 -inch thick

3/4 cup plus 3 tablespoons strawberry jam or preserves

4 large eggs

1/2 cup sugar

2 1/2 cups plus 1 tablespoon whole milk or half-and-half

1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract

6 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted

3/4 cup confectioners' sugar

Preheat the oven to 375°. Butter a 9-by-13-inch glass baking dish. Arrange half of the challah in the dish; tear the slices to fit. Spread 3/4 cup of the jam on top; cover with the remaining challah.

Whisk the eggs, sugar, 2 1/2 cups of the milk and the vanilla and pour over the challah; press to soak and brush with 4 tablespoons of the butter. Cover with foil and bake for 24 minutes, removing the foil halfway through, until the pudding is set; remove from the oven.

Preheat the broiler. Blend the remaining 1 tablespoon of milk with the confectioners' sugar.

Add the remaining butter and jam and stir until the glaze is smooth. Spread all but 1/4 cup of the glaze over the pudding and broil until the glaze is golden. Drizzle the bread pudding with the remaining glaze and serve.

An Organized Cooking Style

I am a Virgo*. Many say that makes me well organized, methodical, efficient, and apparently I cook in that same manner. And it works…for me.

It makes perfect sense to set out all my ingredients prior to starting a recipe. The French call this mis en place, “everything in place.” Then as I use each item, be it flour, sugar or a spice, I put the remainder away. Once I have come to the end of a recipe, my counter should be empty except for the finished product. In this way I know I have used all the ingredients. I don’t do this with everything, as I wing it a lot with savory dishes. But I am pretty faithful to this preparation in all things sweet or bread-related. I have had a few disasters in the past when I have failed to do so (like bread pudding without any sugar).

This method also keeps me from opening cabinets or drawers to retrieve ingredients or tools when I have dirty hands. Just as important, is using this technique when teaching someone to cook. Starting them out with good habits, like mis en place, gives them an edge in delivering a successful final dish. Success means they want to try again, try something new. And when a novice cook is unfamiliar with a kitchen, ingredients or tools, it keeps them from getting flustered in the middle of a recipe.

This doesn’t mean that I don’t improvise from time to time and throw something in spur-of-the-moment, like chopped pecans into my buttermilk banana muffins or some fresh orange zest into chocolate cupcakes (to celebrate the Giants World Series final game).

I’m not saying that this is the best method for everyone, but it does seem to make my kitchen life easier. What works for you?

* Out of curiosity I checked out the traits of a Virgo woman, and this description—while it has a few misspellings which make me crazy (part of my nature)—is scarily accurate. Kinda makes me a believer in astrology.

Experimentation: Bacon Candy

My newest fixation is cupcakes. I love the individual portions, the fun ways to frost them, and how much flavor you can bake into each bite. Oh, not to mention the joy on peoples’ faces when they see them in the cake stand on the counter. Anyone entering my house knows that baked goods that appear in the cake stand are free for the taking, and very few are shy about it.

The one flavor I’ve been really wanting to make is maple-bacon. (I subscribe to the theory that everything is better with bacon.) But I haven’t been completely satisfied looking at the recipes for the cake, frosting, and bacon candy, so I decided that I would take matters into my own hands and create something I was happy with. Thus began a day of experimentation, starting first with the bacon candy.

I wanted to try various methods of making the candy, so I started by cooking bacon first. Given that the bacon would be used in candy, I used a good, high quality bacon: Wellshire Dry Rubbed Center Cut (all natural, raised without antibiotics). I like the heft of the pieces and it has a good flavor (it is both thick sliced and applewood smoked). It is available at Whole Foods and you can order it online (for about $2/lb cheaper).

I took 6 slices of the smoked bacon and cut each in half. I decided to slow bake (300 degrees) the pork strips to get an even cook and to preserve the flat shape of the bacon. I remember reading about baking bacon on Cooking for Engineers, although he used a much slower oven and put the bacon on racks. It seemed to be a good way to get the bacon just right for the candying. Baked at 300 degrees on a baking sheet took about 50 minutes. I did turn the bacon about two-thirds of the way through, but I do not think this is strictly necessary. What I got at the end of the cooking process was a flat, evenly colored, chewy piece of bacon. No burnt or overly crisp edges. Perfect for making bacon candy.

My first experiment involved melting 1/3 cup of raw turbinado sugar in a small sauté pan to make a dry caramel. I started this on a low heat but because turbinado sugar is larger and harder granules than plain old granulated sugar, it did not melt readily. I turned up the flame to med-low to get a melt. Once there, I turned the flame to low and dropped in 2 pieces of the bacon. Turning them once and cooking for about 30 seconds, then taking the pan off the heat. I removed them to a parchment-lined baking rack to cool. (Note that if you cook on too high of a heat or for too long, your caramel will become burnt – so watch very carefully.)

Second, I made a dry caramel with granulated white sugar and did the dip, 30-second cook method. This caramel was much thinner than the turbinado sugar, but yielded a heavier caramel coat.

Third: brown sugar two ways: I packed brown sugar on one side of two pieces of bacon and put them in a preheated sauté pan. I let them cook on low until the sugar had melted on top and then flipped the bacon to cook the sugar in. I also tried this a second way by dredging one piece of bacon in brown sugar, packing it on both sides (which is a bit difficult to do). I then put it in the preheated pan, cooked until the sugar melted and then flamed the gas up high to really melt the sugar good onto the bacon.

Fourth: I heated maple syrup to a light boil and sauteed two pieces of bacon for 30 seconds.

Fifth: Ditto #4 but with molasses.

Once all was said and done Mr. B and I did a taste test. Great way to start the morning, I might add.

The white sugar caramel completely encased the bacon into a hard shell. It was stiff as a board but did cut fine with kitchen shears. It was crunchy and stuck to the teeth with a lot of chewing needed to get to the bacon flavor. Mr. B thought this tasted like caramel corn. Too much sugar/caramel for my liking.

The turbinado sugar caramel was darker than its white sugar counterpart and not as thick on the bacon, but just as hard. It cut fine with kitchen shears and had more depth of flavor. Not quite as crunchy as the white sugar caramel and I really liked the flavor and the way it would hold up as a garnish on a cupcake.

The two-sided brown sugar was also a favorite. Both single- and double-sided brown sugar bacon were slightly overcooked due to the candying method. The edges got crispy and they looked the worst by far. But they cut easily and were crispy and crunch with more bacon flavor than sugar. This could be a very good method if the bacon started out slightly undercooked to compensate for the fact that a second cooking period occurs.

The maple syrup and molasses were both sticky—the maple more so. Given that, they would not work as a garnish. But the molasses was the best looking by far, shiny but not hard. The maple flavor was OK but not great, while I loved the molasses flavor, albeit found it too strong for the cupcake purpose.

The consensus is that either a turbinado caramel or two-sided brown sugar candy coat should be used to make the bacon candy for the garnish.

One experiment down, two to go (cupcake batter and frosting).