Spaghettini with nduja

I had never heard of nduja until I read this article in the New York Times. It's a soft, spreadable, spicy salami from Calabria, Italy. I'll be damned if there's a cured and/or smoked pork product that I haven't tried. So, I went to the Ferry building and bought some from Boccalone, Chris Cosentino's saulmeria that specializes in "tasty salted pig parts." It's pretty much where I belong. They had some samples of nduja on toast that were magical. This dish almost never happened because my roommate saw my nduja in the fridge and almost stole it for himself. That's how good this sh*t is.


Ingredients (serves 4)
1 lb broccoli rabe, trimmed
1 lb. dried spahettini (or sphaghetti)
1 medium onion, minced
6 garlic cloves, thinly sliced
4 oz. nduja
zest of 1 lemon
juice of 1 lemon
extra virgin olive oil
toasted bread crumbs (~1/4 cup)
salt + pepper

• Bring a large pot of water to boil and salt generously. Add broccoli rabe and cook until tender, about 3 min. Transfer to ice water bath. Cut into 1/2 in pieces once cool (smaller than what I did).
  
• In a large skillet, heat 2 tbsp. olive oil over medium-high heat. Add garlic and onion, season with salt, and cook until soft, 8-10 min.
• Add nduja and stir, breaking up meat with a wooden spoon until meat falls apart.
• Add broccoli rabe, lemon zest, and stir to combine.
  
• Meanwhile, using the same boiling water used to cook the broccoli rabe, cook spaghettini until al dente, about nine minutes. Add a bit more water and/or salt if necessary.
• Mix spaghettini into the sauce. Taste and adjust seasonings with salt, pepper, olive oil, and lemon juice. Top with bread crumbs.

Recipe courtesy of Chris Cosentino, article in NYTimes

Cornetti (Italian croissant)

I am not a baker. I'm never going to bake a pie because I'm craving something sweet. I enjoy cooking much more: the sizzle of meat in a pan, honing my chef's knife and chopping vegetables, and adjusting seasoning as I go. You know, savory sh*t. When I do bake, it's really only for people's birthdays. Mostly straightforward, hard to f#*k up things like brownies, cupcakes, and pots de crème. Who doesn't like baked goods for their birthday? Somehow a roasted pork shoulder or duck confit just isn't quite as celebratory.

When Cindy Chang's birthday approached, I thought of making cornetti since she once mentioned how much she liked them. Cornetti are the Italian version of croissant and a common Italian breakfast item. They're a bit denser and sweeter than French croissant. For more reading on this, go here. It was pretty hard to find a recipe online or in any of my cookbooks. I thought I would have to beg the pastry chef at Oliveto for one. Luckily, I eventually found this site that has recipes for many Italian breads. I also found this hilarious video of a guy named JR making cornetti. JR looks more like an expert on NASCAR than Italian baking but apparently has mad cornetti-making skills.

Ingredients (makes 10 cornetti)
2 and 1/4 cups unbleached all purpose flour, plus extra for the counter
1 tsp. fine sea salt
2 tbsp. sugar
3/4 cup warm water, plus extra as needed
1 and 1/4 tsp. dry active yeast
12 tbsp (1.5 sticks) unsalted butter, chilled
2 large eggs, beaten to blend
nutella (optional)

Day 1
Cut the chilled butter into small pieces, ~2 cm cubes, and place back in the fridge. Heat some water until 100-110°F. Combine 3/4 cup of the warm water with the yeast in a bowl. Set aside for a few minutes, or until yeast is dissolved. Mix 2 cups of the flour, salt and sugar in a large bowl. Pour the yeast slurry into the dry ingredients and mix quickly until you have a scraggly looking dough. Add a bit more water if necessary to incorporate all the flour. Be careful not to overmix. Place the dough in a buttered bowl, turn to coat lightly with the bowl, and cover with plastic wrap. Refrigerate overnight.

Pour 1/4 cup flour into a bowl. Take out your chilled butter pieces and incorporate into the flour using a pastry cutter, a couple pieces at a time. Use a butter knife to help scrape pieces off the pastry cutter as you're going along. When the butter is soft but not melted, shape it into a rectangular prism, about 3" x 4", 1.5" high. Wrap in plastic wrap and refrigerate overnight.

Day 2 (the big one)
Remove the risen dough from the fridge and place it on a lightly floured counter. Use your hands to gently shape it into a cylinder, about 2 in. diameter. Cut this cylinder in half with a pizza cutter. Lightly dust a rolling pin and roll out each of the dough pieces, flattening to about 1/4 in. thick (see JR's video). Place the two pieces on top of each other to form a cross. Take the butter out of the fridge and place in the center of the cross and wrap the two flaps over. Then, flip the other two flaps over to make a square package encasing the butter. Using a rolling pin, roll out the dough into a 1/8 in.-thick rectangle. Work quickly so the butter doesn't melt. Fold in thirds, and then in half across the other direction (again, see video). Roll the dough out again. Fold the dough in the same way and then wrap the rectangle in plastic wrap and refrigerate for at least 1 hr. Take the dough out of the fridge, roll out, and fold up in the same way, then refrigerate for another hour. Repeat the rolling out, folding, and refrigerating process two more times.

Remove the dough from the fridge and roll out on a lightly floured counter into a rectangle that is ~ 21 in x 7 in, and ~ 1/8 in thick. Using a pizza cutter, trim any uneven edges, bisect the dough lengthwise, and then cut Xs up and down in the dough to form 10 triangles (JR has mad technique). Roll each triangle, starting from the wide end and working towards the point. Optionally, you can place a little dab of nutella in the middle of the wide end before folding. If the point isn't staying put, brush a bit of egg wash on the shorter half of the triangle and then roll. Place the cornetti on a parchment paper-lined baking sheet, leaving a few inches in between each one. Brush with beaten egg. Place plastic wrap on top of the baking sheet and refrigerate overnight.

Day 3
Preheat oven to 350°F. Remove the cornetti from the fridge and brush with more beaten egg. Bake in the oven for 30-35 minutes, or until golden all over and crisp. Look for the point of the cornetti to just start to brown. Remove and place on a cooling rack to cool to room temperature, about 30 min - 1 hr.

Recipe from: Rustico Cooking, JR

Vichyssoise (chilled potato and leek soup)

This is not a French soup. At least, probably not. It does, however, have a fancy French name and can be found in French cookbooks. The cookbook I found it in was the Les Halles Cookbook by Anthony Bourdain. Like many fans other of food, I worship Anthony Bourdain. A few years back, I ate at Les Halles in New York, where Bourdain used to be executive chef. Soon afterward, I saw the Les Halles Cookbook at the bookstore. Having read his Kitchen Confidential, I was rightfully excited about this book. Unfortunately, it's not a great cookbook. It's a fun read but terrible to cook from, as are most cookbooks featuring scaled down restaurant recipes. There are, however, a few gems that aren't a pain in the ass to prepare at home. This is one of them.

One note about leeks. They're dirty when you buy them, even if they don't look it from the outside. After cutting off the dark green leaves, leaving just the white (and any light green) part, slice in half lengthwise, then into thin slices. Give these thin slices a good washing to remove any dirt hidden in all those layers. You don't want to serve creamy potato leek soup with dirt garnish to your guests. Use chives for garnish instead.

Be sure to go easy on the nutmeg. Its flavor intensifies after the soup chills overnight. So, add less than you think at first and adjust if necessary the next day.

Ingredients (serves 6)
4 tbsp. butter
8 leeks, white part only, cleaned and thinly sliced
2 medium Russet potatoes, peeled and cut into small cubes
4 cups light chicken stock, broth, or water (Julia Child's recommendation)
2 cups heavy cream
pinch of nutmeg
salt + pepper
handful chives, finely chopped

• In dutch oven or heavy-bottomed pot, melt the butter over medium-low heat.
• Once the butter is melted, add the leeks and sweat for 5 min. This means stirring often such that they don't take on any color.
• Add the potatoes and cook for a min or two, stirring a few times. Stir in the chicken stock and bring to a boil. Add a bit more stock if necessary such that the vegetables are almost covered.
  
• Reduce to a simmer. Cook on low heat, gently simmering, for 35 min or until the leeks and potatoes are very soft.
• Allow to cool for a few minutes. Then, blend using an immersion blender or in small batches using a regular blender.
• When everything is blended, whisk in the cream and nutmeg. Season with salt and pepper.
• Return to a boil, reduce to a simmer, and continue cooking for 5 min. Thin soup out with a little additional stock or water at this point, if desired.
• Transfer the soup to a medium sized mixing bowl placed in a larger bowl filled with ice and water. Allow the soup to cool to room temp, ~30 min.
• When the soup is at room temp, cover in plastic wrap and put it in the refrigerator overnight, or until cool.
• When ready to serve, check the seasoning again and sprinkle with chives.

Recipe from: Anthony Bourdain's Les Halles Cookbook

Chicken breast with crisy prosciutto, parmesan, thyme

This post continues my long-standing man crush on Jamie Oliver. I can't help it. He's irresistible. On Jamie's Ministry of Food, he attempts to spread his gospel of cooking fresh food to the town of Rotherham, England. In the second episode, he demonstrates this dish to a group of men. One guy is an older miner who surprises himself with how much he enjoys making this dish despite having never cooked in his life. Watch the video and tell me he's not f$#king adorable, looking like a puppy who just discovered he's allowed to run around outside.

One minor problem: I rarely cook chicken breast. It's relatively pricey, easy to dry out, and often flavorless. Regardless, people love it because it's familiar, easy to cook, and unintimidating. This recipe adds "tasty" and "interesting" to that list of descriptors. The crispy prosciutto provides nice texture contrast with the tender chicken. It also helps season the chicken and keep it moist. Parmesan, thyme, and lemon zest ensure that this dish is tasty enough to avoid the ridicule of your foodie friends who turn their noses at chicken breast. Plus, if it's good enough to inspire a miner who's "built like a brick s%#t house" to cook, it's damned well good enough for me and you to try.

Ingredients (serves 2)
2 boneless skinless chicken breasts
1 lemon
6 slices prosciutto
~1 tbs. grated Parmesan
6 sprigs fresh thyme
extra virgin olive oil
salt + pepper

• Grate Parmesan. Pick thyme leaves off the stalks.
• Score the chicken breast in a diamond pattern, with cuts ~1 cm apart, 1/2 cm deep.
• Season chicken lightly with salt (the prosciutto will add plenty of saltiness) and liberally with black pepper.
• Sprinkle chicken with most of the thyme leaves, Parmesan, and grate some lemon zest.
• Lay 3 prosciutto slices on each chicken breast, overlapping them slightly.
• Drizzle a bit of olive oil and sprinkle the remaining thyme leaves.
• Put a layer of plastic wrap over each breast and pound them with a heavy pan until they are ~1/2 in thick. This will help the chicken cook more quickly and marry the flavors.
• Add olive oil to a frying pan and heat over medium high. Remove the plastic wrap and add chicken breast, prosciutto side down, to the pan. Cook for 3 min.
  
• Turn heat down to medium, flip chicken over, and cook on second side for 3 min.
• Drizzle with some olive oil and serve with lemon wedges.

I served the chicken with sauteed kale and smashed red potatoes. A simple salad or asparagus (as in the video clip) would be nice as well.

From: Jamie Oliver, Jamie's Food Revolution

Salmon tartare

Every month or so, I ravenously crave raw fish. Gotta have it. Can't live without it. At night, dream about it. I usually satisfy this hankering with sushi because it's easy to find. However, I also love the less ubiquitous crudo, ceviche, carpaccio, and tartare. If you're one of those people who dislikes fish, all seafood, only shellfish, whatever, I can't even take you seriously. I won't go on a diatribe but will just say that you're missing out.

This recipe is simple, with nothing extra to f#%k up the flavor of the fish. Try to find the best salmon possible. You could substitute dill (go easy though, tiger) or green onion (very thinly sliced) for the chives and perhaps add some finely minced jalapeño and avocado. I wouldn't add much more than that, however. This should be all about the fish rather than adding a ton of sh*t that obfuscates its flavor. Don't be an obfuscator.


Ingredients (serves 4)
8 oz. salmon fillet (skin off, pin bones removed)
~1.5 tbs. shallot, finely minced
1 lemon
chive for garnish, thinly sliced
extra virgin olive oil
baguette
kosher salt + freshly ground black pepper

• To prepare the salmon, first cut thin slices. Turn these slices on their side and cut into thin matchsticks (julienne). Then turn the julienned pieces 90 degrees and cut into small cubes (brunoise). The knife work doesn't have to be as good as your local sushi master but should be clean and neat. The better you cut the salmon the better the final texture of the tartare.
  
• Drizzle fish with olive oil, about 2 tbs. and gently mix.
  
• Add the shallot, zest of a lemon, and salt and pepper to taste. Mix some more.
  
• Cut 10 slices of baguette, ~1/2 in thick and toast in the oven at 350.
• Top each piece of bread with some of the salmon mix.
  
• Sprinkle some chives on top and squeeze a bit of lemon juice right before eating.

Inspired by Nicole Stich, delicious:days website

Black eyed peas with andouille sausage

Out of the dishes from the last two posts, the pinto beans definitely turned out the best. So, I decided to make some more beans, this time black eyed peas because a friend mentioned that his mom makes them much the same way I made the pinto beans. To make them a bit more interesting, I added ham hock, which not only provides some meat but also smokey, gelatinous goodness to flavor the broth, and andouille sausage - smoked, spicy, and delicious despite its association with Emeril. Lastly, some bay leaf and serrano for aroma and heat, respectively.

See what I did there? I took a cookbook recipe and used it as inspiration for something (slightly) different. Do I get a gold star? Once you have enough recipes under your belt, it becomes easier to think of new ideas using those familiar flavors and ingredients. Recipes should guide rather than constrain what you make. One last note. This is probably a poor weekday dinner choice unless you have enough time to eat 2-3 hours after you start cooking. If that's the case, what a life of luxury you live. Or as my mom would say, "Wow, it must nice being a prince."

Ingredients (serves 6-8)
1 smoked ham hock
1 lb. andouille sausage, cut into ~1/2 in. slices
1 medium piece fatback, ~3 oz. (optional, delectable overkill)
1 lb. black eyed peas
1 onion, diced
2 serrano chiles, finely diced
3 cloves garlic, finely diced
3 bay leaves
vegetable or canola oil
salt + pepper

• Cover beans with plenty of water and soak overnight. Drain the next day. If you forget to do this, don't fret. Just cover beans by 1 in. with water, bring to a boil, and cook for 2 min. Then, take beans off the heat, cover, and let sit for 1 hr. Drain.
  
• Add 2 tbs. oil to dutch oven and heat over medium high high until just smoking. Brown sausage on both sides, ~2-3 min per side, in batches so the pan isn't too crowded. Remove and set aside.
  
• Lower heat to medium and cook onion, garlic, and chiles for a few minutes. Stir vigorously to help pick browned bits off the bottom of the pan. Add some water to help deglaze the pan.
  
• Add sausage, ham hock, fatback, bay leaves, and beans. Cover with water. Once beans reach a boil, reduce to a simmer and cook over low heat, covered, ~1.5-2 hrs or until beans are tender. You can also cook the beans uncovered for the final hr to thicken the broth.
  
• Gently stir beans every 20-30 min.
  
• Remove ham hock, take meat off the bone and return to the pan. Remove fatback and bay leaves. Season liberally with salt with pepper.
  

Venison sliders: take me home, country roads pt. 2

Hunting deer is very popular in West Virginia. Yes, venison is the culinary name for deer meat. The name comes from the Latin venor, which means to hunt (thanks, Wikipedia!). If you like beef, you'll love venison. It's lean and almost never gamey contrary to popular belief. If you're one of those people who only eats lean beef and white chicken meat, try something f#@king new. Because venison is lean and prone to drying out, these sliders include ground pork and bacon for added fat. This isn't a strictly traditional WV recipe, but rather a pastiche of recipes I found.

Venison Sliders (serves 8)
1 lb. ground venison
1 lb. ground pork
2 slices bacon, cut in half lengthwise and then finely diced
~1 tbs. Worcestershire (~5 splashes worth)
Swiss cheese, sliced thin and cut into small 2" x 2" squares
16 dinner rolls, or small brioche buns if you're feeling bourgeois
canola oil
salt and pepper

• Add enough oil to coat a thick bottomed pan or cast iron skillet and heat over medium.
• When oil is hot but not smoking, season about 4 patties with s+p and add to pan, leaving plenty of space between each patty.
  
• Cook for ~3 min on first side. While they cook, toast your buns if you'd like.
  
• When sliders have developed a nice crust, flip over and cook for another min. Then, add a bit more s+p and cheese slices. Cover pan to melt for another 1-2 min.
  
• Once cheese has melted and the sliders are about medium, take them off the heat.
• Cook the next batch of sliders.

These didn't turn out as planned and weren't amazing. That's okay, though. You learn a lot from your mistakes in the kitchen. Also, cooking is one of my hobbies rather than a necessity for feeding my family or my day job. So, romantic notions of constantly striving for better somehow aren't flippant. You want to try new recipes, experiment with new ingredients, and step outside your comfort zone. Otherwise, you'll be making baked chicken breasts with canned cream of mushroom sauce for the rest of your life.

I would change a lot of things if I were to make this again. Because I'm not Cook's Illustrated, I won't actually try five more iterations and present the best one. What I will do is discuss what I might do differently if I give this another try. First, I would use a ratio of 3:1 or 2:1 for the amount of ground venison to ground pork. The 1:1 ratio tasted way too much like pork rather than venison. This isn't a pork burger recipe, after all; it's for motherf#%king deer burgers! I would also cut the amount of bacon down to 1 piece, and cut it into even smaller pieces using either a food processor or by finely mincing even after doing a dice. I might also skip the bacon altogether because its smokiness can overpower the venison flavor.

I also made the sliders a little too thick and forgot a cardinal rule of burger making, that (homemade) burgers will shrink towards the middle when cooking and be thicker cooked than raw. No one wants a baseball-shaped burger. So, try making them 1/2 in-3/4 in thick rather than drifting towards 1 in as I did. The picture of the raw patties were from the second batch and a better thickness than the thick slider in the finished picture. As for choice of cheese, choose a mild Swiss or Cheddar rather than an aggressive cheese more suitable for a beef hamburger. Don't try to get fancy and buy Emmental, which I did in a classic case of "when getting fancy goes wrong," or Gruyere, which was recommended to me at the Pasta Shop and an equally overpowering, poor choice.

Lastly, don't be a jackass like me and eschew humble dinner rolls for small French rolls. The correct ratio of meat to each bun should be ~1:1, for a total meat to bread ratio of 1:2. With these rolls, the ratio was more like 1:4. The bread overwhelmed the meat. Small brioche buns that aren't too thick would a good choice if you have to get bourgeois.

Beans and cornbread: take me home, country roads

West Virginia is well-known for its athletics, most recently the West Virginia Mountaineers making it to the Final Four. It's also known for beautiful scenery, coal mining, the John Denver song mentioned in the title, and . . . its cooking? Not so much. I don't know jack sh*t about the West Virginia culinary scene. Nobody does. I didn't even know anyone from West Virginia until meeting Corey Meadows, a wide-eyed, excitable friend of mine. He loves his Mountaineers, Miller High Life, and food from back home.

But, what the f*@k is West Virginia food? Is it all about fried possum and roadkill? I hope not because I don't even own a car. Actually, it has some similarities to Southern cuisine but is also a part of the Appalachian cooking tradition, where people eat what they can grow, raise, or hunt. Think venison, berries, corn, and ramps (which foodies gush over). Inspired by this NPR article and my buddy Corey, I made some traditional WV comfort food: brown beans and cornbread. These dishes are all about starting with humble ingredients and making them delicious with time, love, and pork fat.

West Virginia Brown Beans (serves 8)
16 oz. dried pinto beans
1 large piece fatback, ~4"x2", 4-5 oz. (or 1 smoked ham hock)
1 medium white or yellow onion, diced (reserve about 1/4 as a garnish for later)
3 cloves garlic, minced
2 tbs. unsalted butter (optional)
salt and pepper

• Cover beans with plenty of water and soak overnight. The next day, drain.
  
• Put beans and 1.5 quarts fresh water in a large pot or dutch oven on medium heat. Add some salt (~1-2 tsp), fatback, onion, and garlic.
• Once beans reach a boil, reduce to a simmer and cook over low heat, covered, for about 2-2.5 hrs until beans are tender but not falling apart and broth is dark and starting to thicken.
  
• About every half hour, gently stir the beans to prevent them from sticking to the bottom of the pan. If liquid level gets low, add some more water.
  
• Once beans are tender, season liberally with salt and lightly with freshly ground black pepper.
• Serve with diced onion and butter (optional).

This dish is a great example of using meat to flavor a dish rather than as a central component. The fatback's role is vital but not central to the dish, as Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall would say. This recipe might seem quite plain compared to others featuring bay leaf, chili powder, and cumin. I actually like how the simplicity allows the flavor of the beans to stand out. On another note, the beans ended up quite soupy, which Corey and I like. If you want your beans to be less soupy, try starting with 1 quart of water and adding more during cooking as necessary.

Regarding seasoning, don't add too much black pepper. I'm normally a bit of a pepper monkey but found that lots of black pepper didn't merry well with the flavor of the beans. Do add salt with a heavy hand. Otherwise, the beans have zero flavor. Also, I highly recommend the raw onion garnish, which provides bite and crunch to complement the mellow, soft beans. Texture contrast alert! Lastly, dipping some cornbread in the broth is delicious.

Country Grit Bread (serves 8)

1 cup plain white stone-ground cornmeal (not instant)

3/4 cup yellow self-rising cornbread mix

1 tsp. sugar

1/2 tsp. salt

1/3 tsp. baking soda

3 tbs. bacon drippings (or butter as a substitute)

1/4 cup plain white stone-ground grits

3/4 cup water

1 egg

1 cup buttermilk

• Preheat oven to 475 degrees.
• Sift white cornmeal, cornbread mix, sugar, salt, and baking soda into a large mixing bowl.
• Add bacon drippings to a cast iron pan and warm it over low heat. When drippings are melted, tilt pan so the sides and bottom are well greased. Then, pour off and save two tbs. of drippings.
• Mix grits and water in a bowl and microwave on high for 3 min. Stir and then microwave for another 3 min.
• Whisk egg in a bowl. Mix in buttermilk and add to the dry ingredients.
• Stir until batter is well mixed but still a bit on the firm and dry side. Add the reserved pan drippings and grits. Mix all the ingredients with a spatula or large spoon. Reheat grit and water mixture before adding if it has cooled too much.
• Pour batter into greased pan and bake for 20-25 min. The bread is done when a nice, golden crust has formed.

I'm not an expert on cornbread and had never made it before. In fact, I'm a bigger fan of biscuits. Nonetheless, I do like cornbread and have some thoughts on this recipe. First, the cornbread was very tasty, no arguments there. But, I'm not sure whether including the grits, which you can definitely taste in the final product, is a good thing. I might skip it next time. Also, the bread could have been a bit denser. So, perhaps a bit more cornmeal is needed? Or maybe it's that I didn't use stone-ground cornmeal, which I couldn't find. I'm also a little confused about why you need the instant mix. I might a post another cornbread recipe in the future now that I know how ridiculously easy it is to make.

Acknowledgments to: Kendra Bailey Morris, NPR's "Kitchen Window" for recipes for beans (modified) and grit bread (as written)

Deep fried steak aka pitchfork fondue

This is not a recipe for stir fried beef or chicken fried steak. I'm talking about deep frying an entire cut of steak. Never heard of such madness? I hadn't either until seeing it on Jamie's American Road Trip, a British miniseries that features Jamie Oliver exploring lesser-known corners of America's culinary landscape. One episode begins with a group of cowboys in Wyoming putting huge pieces of steak onto pitchforks and deep frying them in a cauldron of bubbling lard. Absolutely spectacular. This old school cooking technique dates back to the 1800s and is known as pitchfork fondue. This ain't no dainty French fondue bourguignonne, though, with tiny cubes of beef. I'm talking about "half a cow on a stick in a big ol' cauldron of fat!"


Ingredients (serves 2)
2 8-10 oz. sirloin steaks, ~1 in. thick (strip steak or ribeye would also work)
64 oz. canola oil (if you can get beef tallow, more power to you)

• Fill a dutch oven about half full with canola oil. Heat over medium high to 375°F.
  
• Pierce steak with large barbecue fork (the poor man's pitchfork) and place the whole piece of meat in the oil.
• Fry steak for about 2-3 min for medium rare. Once the outside develops a dark brown crust, test for doneness by taking the meat out of the oil and (carefully) feeling how firm it is. Fry a bit longer if it feels too soft.
  
• Remove steak and place on paper towel-lined plate to drain. Season with salt and pepper. Allow to rest for a few minutes before serving.

The meat came out brown and crispy on the outside and perfectly pink on the inside. It was juicy and flavorful, not greasy or heavy. Deep frying also cooks the steak perfectly evenly on all sides. On Jamie's show, he says the meat tastes amazing even without any seasoning. I found that adding salt and pepper after frying added a lot of flavor. I even added a bit more salt after slicing the meat up. Maybe the animal fat they fried the meat in imparted more flavor than my canola oil. Regardless, those cowboys are onto something because deep fried steak kicks ass. I served it with a baked potato topped with butter, s+p, sour cream, and green onion, and a mixed green salad with balsamic vinaigrette. Baked beans would be another great accompaniment and in keeping with this dish's cowboy cooking heritage.

Seared scallops with bacon, mixed greens, lime vinaigrette

Finally, a real recipe on this blog. This is a simple, tasty one I got from my good friend, Brian Green. The sweetness of the scallops, the saltiness of the bacon, and the brightness of the lime come together like a Voltron of flavor.

Try to find dry scallops, which kick the sh*t out of wet scallops. Wet scallops are soaked in a solution of sodium triphosphate, a preservative that makes them absorb water. They won't sear as well and aren't as fresh. If you can't find the dry variety, which can be hard to track down, just use the freshest scallops available.

Ingredients (serves 2, but easy to scale up)

4 sea scallops

2 slices of bacon (~2 oz.), pancetta also works

2 large handfuls mixed salad greens (~3 oz.)

1 lime

extra virgin olive oil

salt and pepper

butter (if necessary)

• Dice bacon and cook over low heat in heavy bottom pan.
• While the bacon is rendering, zest and juice the lime. Whisk in olive oil, ~3 parts oil to lime juice. Season with salt and pepper.
• Once the bacon is almost finished, lightly dress the greens with vinaigrette and split among two plates. Reserve some vinaigrette for later.
  
• When the bacon is crispy, remove with a slotted spoon and set aside.
• Pat the scallops very dry. Remove the tough adductor muscle if present. Score the scallops in a diamond pattern using a sharp knife, with cuts about a cm apart and about a half cm deep. Season both sides with salt and pepper.
• If there's not enough bacon fat to cover the pan, add some butter. Then, crank up the heat to high until the fat is smoking.
• Add scallops to pan, leaving plenty of room between each one. Allow to brown for ~2 min. Resist the urge to flip or move them before a nice crust develops. Turn scallops and brown the second side, again for about 2 min.
• When done, the scallops should be about as firm as medium rare steak, meaning not very firm. They'll be nice and crusty on the outside and pink in the middle.
  
• Plate two scallops on top of each bed of dressed salad. Add crispy bacon pieces and drizzle some vinaigrette on top.

The basics: cutlery

I'm not going to preach about how important it is to cook with top notch (i.e. pricey) equipment. It's more than possible to make great food using mediocre cookware. My parents, for example, use mostly s**t hardware to make delicious food. I will implore you, however, to buy a good chef's knife. A good, sharp chef's knife will make cooking more fun - a lot more fun. It'll be the most important tool in your kitchen and if you're like me, your favorite. I love my Shun knife so much I want to take it behind a middle school and get it pregnant.

Besides Shun, Global and MAC are other easy to find, good Japanese brands. The big name German brands are Wüsthof and Henckels. Beware that both companies makes cheaper lines (Signature & International for Henckels; Gourmet & Emeril for Wüsthof) that are poor imitations of their nicer stuff (Twin Cuisine & Four Star; Classic & Ikon). If you see a Henckels chef's knife for $35, that's not the one you want. If you want something in that price range, get yourself a Victorinox knife, the darling of America's Test Kitchen. Oh, and pass on the 12-piece knife set. Don't be that guy (or girl, er young woman). Besides a chef's knife, you really only need a paring knife and a serrated knife.

The basics: seasoning

If there's one thing I've learned from the Food Network (back when it had real chefs cooking real food rather than such culinary luminaries as Sandra Lee), it's that you need to season your food. Also, how often do contestants on Top Chef get blasted by Tom Colicchio for not seasoning their food properly?

Salt and Pepper

While lots of people use basic iodized salt, it tastes like s**t. One of the easiest things you can do to make your food taste better is to use kosher salt or sea salt instead. I use kosher salt (Morton coarse Kosher salt, specifically) because its coarse size allows you to sprinkle it from about a foot above your food and feel like a celebrity chef. Actually, the size does make it easier to distribute over food. And, it's not that much pricier than plain iodized salt and tastes much better.

Next, use fresh cracked black pepper instead of pre-ground. Pre-ground pepper is flavorless and sad. The pungent, biting taste of freshly cracked pepper is what you want for your food. Starting with whole peppercorns, use a pepper mill or crush them manually by putting them in a ziplock and pounding them with a rolling pin or heavy pan for a coarser texture. A mortar and pestle also works. I use a Unicorn Magnum Pepper Mill (an unfortunate name) that churns out a ridiculous amount of ground pepper with every twist.

In summary, amaze your friends and loved ones by using nicer s+p (I heart you, Rachel Ray).

P.S. I definitely do not heart Rachel Ray.

Let the deliciousness begin

This blog is going to be a series of culinary musings and ruminations designed to enlighten, entertain, and aid you in your own culinary adventures. I hope you like it!

JK! (last time I will use that acronym, don't worry) Actually, that is the sort of haughty, "I take myself way too seriously" language I will avoid in future posts. I don't think that this food blog is the best thing to hit the culinary scene since Momofuku or to splash down on (in?) the blogosphere since The Sartorialist. It will, however, be irreverent, possibly informative, probably sprinkled with profanity, and never boring. That is a promise. I guaransheed it.