On cooking
Yesterday I did some cleaning and made stew. Stew that took three hours on the stove, by which point the potatoes had completely disintegrated and the onions turned to caramel and the meat, good grief, the meat had gotten happy, then gotten all tough and angry, and then forgiven me and turned into something it hadn't known it could be. We call this "cooking it into submission," and it was very good.
For the record, you do not cook vegetables into submission, which was why the bay, carrots, and celery weren't added until the last 45 minutes.
Tonight I am cooking chicken tenderloins somehow involving salt and olive oil, and putting them over a bed of fresh spinach and chopped tomatoes, with sliced brown mushrooms sauteed in white wine and olive tapanade. This will be cooked gently... sometimes meat will be willingly seduced, completely negating the need to force it to submit.
Tomorrow I am cooking corned beef, which is legendary among the "cook it until it gives up and calls you master" meats... and even if you don't particularly like corned beef, the smell during this six hour escapade is fantastic. This will be the second time I've ever done it, and I'm looking forward to it to the tune of eleven pounds of corned beef. It's a good thing my family is local. ♥
Going with the corned beef will of course be cabbage, because I like cabbage (cabbage introduced me to corned beef, in fact, instead of the other way around), and potatoes. Potatoes of cholesterol loooooooove. Potatoes that are peeled, chunked, parboiled, and then set to cook in a pan- but not just any pan. A pan that has been frying bacon and onions for the last ten minutes, rendering out all that hickory-cured fat into welcoming the potatoes with an industrial bottle of lube and a come-get-me smile. I may even add cheese or sour cream. I'll let you know.
For the record, you do not cook vegetables into submission, which was why the bay, carrots, and celery weren't added until the last 45 minutes.
Tonight I am cooking chicken tenderloins somehow involving salt and olive oil, and putting them over a bed of fresh spinach and chopped tomatoes, with sliced brown mushrooms sauteed in white wine and olive tapanade. This will be cooked gently... sometimes meat will be willingly seduced, completely negating the need to force it to submit.
Tomorrow I am cooking corned beef, which is legendary among the "cook it until it gives up and calls you master" meats... and even if you don't particularly like corned beef, the smell during this six hour escapade is fantastic. This will be the second time I've ever done it, and I'm looking forward to it to the tune of eleven pounds of corned beef. It's a good thing my family is local. ♥
Going with the corned beef will of course be cabbage, because I like cabbage (cabbage introduced me to corned beef, in fact, instead of the other way around), and potatoes. Potatoes of cholesterol loooooooove. Potatoes that are peeled, chunked, parboiled, and then set to cook in a pan- but not just any pan. A pan that has been frying bacon and onions for the last ten minutes, rendering out all that hickory-cured fat into welcoming the potatoes with an industrial bottle of lube and a come-get-me smile. I may even add cheese or sour cream. I'll let you know.