Picnic Season is Fleeting......

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.


Tick.


That sound you hear is the sound of time slipping away moment by moment, the last precious days and weeks of spring ebbing away (in central Arizona, spring ends and summer begins in about, oh, April) until all we're left with is...........summertime. A cruel joke of a season in which temperatures soar to temperatures well in excess of 115 degrees and nothing fun is possible. No long, leisurely hikes in the desert. No mid-afternoon bicycle joyrides. No picnics.

No picnics.

The horror.

Picnics and roadtrips are like an American birthright, the predictable offspring of our wanderlust and our zest for eating anything on the move combined with some darker, murkier instinct from our distant European heritage to relaaaaax, spread out on the grass of the hillside for the whole afternoon and sip wine one small glass at a time until the sun is low and the whole bottle is gone. There should be sandwiches, of course, crisp with meat and juicy with other succulent things. There should be a real picnic blanket, and paper napkins, crisp with a briefly lingering fresh coolness from their proximity to the ice pack, and a refreshing bubbly beverage served in real glasses. There should be a cooling, crunchy salad of some kind, zesty with vinaigrette. There should be simple sweets, and a dog and a beloved partner by your side on the picnic blanket, if you can manage it. There should be a whole afternoon devoted to lazing, eating, sipping, lake-gazing, half-heartedly fishing (really just an excuse to enjoy the perfect weather lakeside, and you won't mind if you don't catch a thing, as we didn't), and just being in that one perfect moment before the weather turns horrible and it's all a distant, faded memory.

In full awareness of this weather-related dilemma, Mr. Orange & Salt and I decided a fancy weekend picnic outdoors was a long overdue event. We might even be instituting a 'mandatory fancy picnic' policy every weekend until the temperature tops 100, who knows? Because once we get there, my friends, it is a long, sweaty slog until late October or so, when it finally cools down again. And there are no picnics in sight along the way. Woe. So let's focus on the present while the weather here is gorgeous--mid 80s, sunny and clear! Hooray!

The Fancy Lakeside Picnic Menu:

Brie, Apple and Bacon Panini on Ciabatta Bread

Cold Asparagus Salad with Shallot Vinaigrette

Fresh Ataulfo 'Champagne' Mangoes & Dark Chocolate Squares

Finest Champagne*

( *if 'finest champagne' is readily available for $6 at the local grocery store, then yes, yes it certainly was the finest champagne)

It's important to consider a few variables when planning your fancy picnic.Is there anything that could melt or fall apart when moved around too much? Is my fancy picnic heavy or light? Am I going to be hiking beforehand, or driving directly to the picnic spot? Does it all need to fit into a cooler, a backpack, a series of tupperware containers? For our own fancy picnic, we knew we'd be driving most of the way, then hiking out a short distance to the lake, so we packed ours in a cooler with plenty of ice (seriously, food-borne illnesses are NOT your friend--ask me how I know--so use ice, ice, ice!!) in the car, then transferred it all to an easily-carried bag for hiking. All the edibles were securely wrapped in plastic or in sealed containers to protect them from melting ice, and all the breakables (champagne bottle, glasses) were wrapped in the picnic blanket itself. We know what we're doing--this ain't our first rodeo (picnic), yo. Make sure you plan accordingly!

Our picnic destination, beautiful Canyon Lake!


You can't be properly fancy until you've sipped champagne from a real glass (even if that glass is made from a recycled root beer bottle) al fresco. Pinkies out, please!

Our panini were crusty perfection, layered inside with crisp smoky bacon, sweet apple slices and gently oozing brie. Panini are actually a perfect picnic choice because they're so tightly compressed and easy to hold--all the filling stays in place, both while traveling and eating! And this particular variety is fantastic at 'room' (lakeside?) temperature. A picnic must.

Cool, crispy, asparagus vinaigrette salad. The key to this is not steaming the asparagus, but rolling them around for a few brief but intense minutes in a hot pan with some olive oil. They cook just enough to lose their raw edge, but still retain most of their primal crispiness. The heat and olive oil work to coax out just enough of the sweet, nutty asparagus flavor before reaching the 'overcooked sock' point (so easily attained by steaming), and best of all, some of them even pick up a little browned char spot here and there. Then cool them immediately and dunk in a savory, acidic vinaigrette, and you've got a perfect, elegant little salad. Easily tupperware'd for ease of travel.

Mr. Orange & Salt shows his appreciation for a masterpiece of a sandwich.

Our gorgeous picnic site, directly lakeside and right in the midst of the all the cattails. Mr. Orange & Salt bravely did some experimental fishing, after we'd stuffed ourselves silly with all that wonderful bread, cheese, wine and fruit, but didn't catch a single thing......and really, it was just as well. I don't think I could have eaten another bite. I am, however, hungry for another picnic. And we'd better hurry. Time's ticking awaaaayyyy..........

Brie, Bacon and Apple Panini

Ciabatta bread
1 Granny Smith apple
6 slices bacon
Brie cheese

Preheat oven to 350. Bake slices of bacon on foil-lined baking sheet until desired degree of doneness is achieved (this is a hotly contested point of debate in our house, and so I won't even presume to tell you how far to cook or not to cook them. Chewy versus crispy is up to you, just make them look delicious!). While bacon is bakin' (heh heh), peel and thinly slice the apple. Toss in a dry saute pan over medium high heat for a minute or so. The goal should not be to cook them, just heat them enough to take the 'rawness' out of them. Look for them to begin to wilt slightly and smell nice and 'apple-y,' then remove from heat.

Slice desired amount of brie. Slice desired quantity of ciabatta lengthwise to form a bun. Assemble sandwich with fully cooked bacon slices, apple slices, and cheese slices. Press down firmly to flatten. Place in dry saute pan (you may use a panini press here instead. What, you have one? I don't. I find you can achieve the exact same result with a hot, dry pan and a little watchfulness, so I'm not investing in one) over medium heat, pressing down slightly to crisp the surface of the bread.

Toast for a few minutes on each side, until bread begins to turn brown and crispy. Remove from heat, cool, wrap in plastic wrap for picnic time!

Cold Asparagus Vinaigrette Salad

One bunch fresh asparagus
5 tablespoons olive oil
2 tablespoons red wine vinegar
1 tablespoon peanut oil
2 tablespoons minced shallot
1 clove garlic, finely minced
1 tsp. dijon mustard
Honey, to taste
Salt & pepper, to taste

Clean & trim bottoms of asparagus. Take 2 of the tablespoons of olive oil, heat in a saute pan over medium high heat. Toss asparagus in hot oil for a few minutes until slightly browned in a few spots, but still crispy inside. Remove from pan and place on a plate in a single layer (I usually chop them into thirds at this point, too, for ease of eating later on); refrigerate to cool.

In medium sized bowl, place remaining 3 tablespoons of olive oil, plus peanut oil, vinegar, shallot, garlic and mustard. Whisk to combine. Taste, and add honey to taste to balance acidity, plus salt and pepper. Add chilled asparagus and either consume immediately or continue chilling.

Banoffee Pie: Keep Calm & Carry a Fork!

BANOFFEE PIE.

Oh, I know. I disappear for months without a trace or even a hint of a a recipe, not one little blog post, and now I return here to you with..........banoffee pie? But just bear with me! It's going to be good.

Those of you reading this from North America may have never experienced the charms of banoffee pie; you may never even have heard of it. Let me briefly enlighten you. Banoffee (one of those delightful food-name portmanteaus, constructed from 'banana' and 'toffee') pie is a quintessentially English dessert, like trifle or sticky toffee pudding. It is a sticky, sweet, rich slice of creamy heaven. And it's even better when you top it with caramelized nuts.

It's also traditionally made by boiling an unopened can (yikes!) of condensed milk until the contents transform into a sticky brown caramel sauce known elsewhere in the world as dulce de leche. Right away, I knew that I would be deviating from tradition for three excellent reasons:

- One, that boiling a sealed can of anything for hours and hours until it either reduces and become delicious or, alternatively, explodes violently in your face in an eruption of molten liquid and shrapnel, killing you very much dead.......scares the living daylights out of me.

- Two, that I've actually heard that the dulce de leche base is a touch too thin for proper pie filling, resulting in fruit slices that sink to the bottom. And while that still sounds delicious, it's somewhat lacking in presentation appeal.

- And three, I had just discovered a recipe at one of my favorite cooking blogs, The Smitten Kitchen (I owe her so much!), for caramel pudding. Which is most likely what put the idea of banoffee pie into my head in the first place. Soft, yielding, puddingy, but stiff enough to stand up to a mound of banana slices and whipped cream--it sounded like the ideal middle layer for the pie of my dreams.


The crust is a simple crushed graham cracker crust, my favorite choice for creamy desserts like pudding-filled pie or cheesecake (versus say, a fruit pie, for which a pastry base is the only logical choice). Crumbly and delicious. The pudding, I have to say, is delicious. I added a touch more salt than Deb's original recipe calls for because I am a sucker for that 'salted caramel' flavor. I also have to say, because I feel somehow obliged to disclose it.......that this pudding is too thick and gelatinous for me, as pudding. I say this having made it twice now, it takes most of its texture from the six (six!) tablespoons of cornstarch that get stirred into the mixture. The end result is quite stiff, almost bouncy, and I just can't imagine sinking a spoon into it and eating a cup of it on its own as pudding. As banoffee pie filling, however, its very stiffness is its best feature, making for a gorgeous and easily sliced pie that holds its shape perfectly.


My husband, who has never understood the proud & historic cuisine of the British people, unreasonably insisted that we try putting sliced strawberries on the pie instead of the traditional bananas. I gasped and clutched my pearls. I told him that such a thing would be a crime against decency and Mother England, if not an abomination before humanity itself! But because I love my husband senselessly, even more than I love banoffee pie, I agreed to the compromise you see above.

And okay. Actually, it was delicious. Listen to your heathen husbands once in awhile. Only......what should we call it? Strawbanoffee pie? Banoffeeberry pie?

Top with fresh whipped cream, and a handful of nuts if desired. I recommend that you toss them lightly in a pan with some butter and sugar to glaze them, then let them cool before sprinkling them on top.

BANOFFEE PIE.

You know you want it. :)

Orange & Salt's Banoffee Pie

Graham Cracker Crust:

1.5 cups crushed graham crackers (I ended up using about half a box)

1/4 cup sugar

1/2 tsp. salt

6 T. melted butter

Preheat oven to 350. Mix dry ingredients together in bowl, add butter and stir or blend with your hands until the mixture resembles wet sand. Press well into bottom and sides of tart pan. Bake for 8-10 minutes.

Caramel Filling:

Here's a link to the excellent caramel pudding recipe over at Smitten Kitchen. Enjoy! (Don't forget to let your pudding base cool in the fridge after you've cooked it and spread it in the tart crust base, so as not to melt the whipped cream all over the place)

Pie Topping:

One perfectly ripe banana (and some ripe strawberries, if you're making Strawbanoffeeberry Pie, you weirdo you)
Half pint of whipping cream

Sugar (enough to lightly sweeten the cream, plus a little extra for the nuts....maybe a few tablespoons in all?)

Chopped walnuts (pecans would also be awesome here)

Small amount of butter

Slice fruit thinly, and place in an even layer over pie base (crust & pudding mixture, cooled). Whip cream and sugar (to taste) with electric mixer or whisk until it holds soft peaks. Spread over pie base, chill in refrigerator until ready to eat.

Heat a small amount of butter (very small, like half a tablespoon) in a skillet over medium high heat. Add chopped nuts and sugar, toss to coat. Cook until nuts are glazed with browned sugar, immediately remove from heat. Let cool, then sprinkle on pie.

Slice.

Enjoy.

Do it for England. :)

Welcome Back, Blogger. ;)

Check.

Check.

......Is this thing on?

Hello, Orange & Salt readers! I've missed you. Where have I been? Well, you can choose from a long, long list of excuses, including but not limited to: working at my job, working in the studio, enjoying the beautiful winter weather, hiking, biking, participating in an art show, knitting, walking my dog, frantically filling Christmas Etsy orders, blogging for my job, decorating my house for Christmas, and also somewhat frantically preparing for a cross-town move immediately post-Christmas. Whew. But they're all excuses, dear readers, what can I say? Eventually, I knew I'd have to return to the blog. I missed you all too much. :)

So here it is, in photos, a brief history of the last few weeks to get us up to speed:

There was ravioli, made with fresh, handmade pasta and a sausage filling with cheese and arugula. Served tossed lightly in brown butter and sprinkled with pecans. The recipe for this is, I assure you, coming soon.

There was fancy dinner at my parents' house, during which all manner of bizarre cooking and feeding rituals took place.

At fancy dinner, we fancily dined upon crispy paprika chickpeas, golden rolled spinach & feta phyllo cigars, pan-sauteed ribeyes with pommes dauphinois (a la Dad), and an amazing dark chocolate hazelnut tart. Because this family is fancy indeed.

Then, at some point, there was my first taste of gizzards. Gizzards: a true revelation......and almost as much fun to say as they are to eat! Try it: 'Honey, what's for dinner?' 'GIZZARDS. Gizzards are for dinner.' 'Gizzards??' 'GIZZARDS.' It's hours of fun, especially when you add funny accents.

Chewy, with strangely dark & hidden depths, gizzards are full of fatty flavor (especially when dredged in flour and fried until golden and crispy) and a faintly organlike whiff about them. I can't explain it, but they're truly addictive. Kind of like evil McNuggets. We took them to a friend's tapas party and ate them dipped in ketchup and sriracha sauce, a mixture I cannot recommend highly enough.

In November, Mike and I celebrated our first wedding anniversary (aawwwwwww!!) with an amazing dinner at The Mission in Scottsdale, a 'modern Latin' restaurant. Something else I can't recommend highly enough: dinner at The Mission. Seriously. I've been scheming excuses to go back ever since we left, it's that wonderful. Pictured above: my appetizer, roast corn gorditas loaded with squash, zucchini, corn, crema, and huitlacoche.........YES, you read that right, blackened corn fungus. Infected corn! It's not often that this pops up on menus, but I've always yearned to try it, and it didn't disappoint. It's earthy, as you'd expect, with a trufflelike identity. Those of us who love the fungus family (I'm definitely among that number) will adore this one.

Not pictured: Mike's appetizer, the succulent (yes, so succulent that I am actually forced to use that word to describe these) duck carnitas empanadas. I stole as much of this as he would allow before he began defending himself with his fork and steak knife. I tried. :)

Also shown above: my entree, the outrageously, plate-lickingly good (seriously, I'd had a fair amount of Argentinian red wine by this point, and may or may not have actually licked my plate when no one was looking, I'm not telling) chorizo porchetta with rosemary, served with white bean puree and sweet garlic crema. I howled with despair when the side order of puree and crema disappeared, it was that amazing. And Mike's entree of braised short ribs with chorizo, black beans and pureed plantain and sweet potato, plus the dessert of crispy chocolate and cinnamon churros, dipped in an espresso milkshake.........ohhhh. Well, I can't wait to go back. I just can't wait. Anyone up for dinner? Call me.

For Thanksgiving, there was pie. Sweet, caramel apple pie in homemade pastry, with festive autumn leaf designs. For that extra Martha touch.

And finally, more often than not, there was just simple food shared at a warm and loving table. Like soup, humble tomato soup with a touch of cream and a lively sprinkling of fresh basil. Although I admittedly love the big, fancy blowout 'event' dinners we've made and participated in along the way, this is ultimately my favorite kind of meal to share. A simple bowl of warm tomato soup.

It tastes like love. :)

Simple Tomato Soup

(serves 4-6 portions....add crusty bread for dipping and it's a full, hearty meal)

2 28 oz. cans of diced tomatoes in tomato juice (since it's winter. However, if tomatoes are in season, feel free to use fresh)

1 32 oz. box of chicken stock

extra virgin olive oil

1 cup diced yellow onion

1/2 tablespoon crushed garlic

1 tsp. dried oregano

splash of Worcestershire or soy sauce

half pint of heavy cream

pinch of sugar

salt & pepper

fresh basil

Heat a few tablespoons of olive oil in large skillet over medium heat, add onion and saute until soft and beginning to brown. Add half the garlic and saute quickly for 30 seconds. Add one can of tomatoes, including juice, increase heat to high and bring mixture to a boil while stirring constantly. Add oregano and a splash of either Worcestershire or soy sauce (sounds crazy, but it adds a hidden, deep dark note of savory umami that will be noticeable--though subtle--all the way through), reduce heat to medium-low, and simmer for about 30 minutes, stirring occasionally to make sure nothing is sticking to the pan. The mixture should be visibly darker and reduced at this point.

Add mixture to large stockpot with chicken stock and remaining can of tomatoes. Puree with immersion blender (or process in batches in a standard blender; because you have cooled the mixture by adding the room temperature ingredients, this should be fairly easy at this point). Add the remaining garlic, bring back to a boil in stockpot, then reduce heat to low and simmer, uncovered, for 30 more minutes.

Remove from heat and add sugar (to balance the acidity of the tomatoes), salt and pepper to taste. Add cream to taste (this soup is wonderful in different ways both with cream and without; how much you add, anywhere from a tablespoon to the full half pint, is up to you. We won't tell if you add all the cream, though.).

Serve immediately, topped with fresh chopped basil. Spoon up the love!

11.7.09

The good folks behind Orange & Salt would like to remind you to eat some delicious cake today! Even if it's not your wedding anniversary.

‎.......and NO, we didn't save a slice all year long, because ewwwww. Year-old, defrosted cake??!? We do, however, have a lovely bottle of Oregon pinot noir that was a wedding gift from friends, and which we have been saving all year & are planning to enjoy tonight!

MUCH better than stale cake. :)

Tacos & tequila at the AZ Taco Festival......plus, the World's Best Beef Short Rib Taco Recipe!

Readers, I have learned many things in my twenty-nine years on this planet. More general lessons, like how to ride a bicycle, how to hold my breath underwater, how to appreciate the subtle genius that is Billy Joel. Also, more specific lessons, like not to put sriracha (wonder-sauce though it is) on everything, how to scorch a souffle or burn a roux, and how most effectively to ruin a nonstick pan. But perhaps the most important thing that I have learned is............when one is handed free tickets to a food/drink event of any kind, by golly, one goes.

So readers, despite my crippling dread of crowds, when we were recently handed two tickets (a $20 value!) to the Arizona Taco Festival, the good folks of Orange & Salt decided to take a little taco-tasting field trip.

After waiting in an entrance line that stretched a good quarter-mile through downtown Scottsdale--thus proving one of two points: that Arizonans have an inordinate love for either tacos or standing in long lines, perhaps both--we were admitted, and on this slightly-warmer-than-expected 90-degree October day made a beeline for the shady bar tent, like many other festivalgoers.

This blogger was only able to consume one small margarita, due to the combined effects of low tequila tolerance and the fact that 1 margarita = 3 tickets = $6, and funds were low. Mike and I wisely decided to pool our remaining resources for maximum taco enjoyment.

Waiting anxiously in line at Los Olivos's tent for our first taste of tacos.

We ordered a mixed seafood taco, two carnitas tacos, and a beef taco from our first stop at the Los Olivos tent. I unwisely chose the hotter of the two salsas available on the table, because I like spicy, not realizing that instead of being labeled 'Hot' (actually, they weren't labeled at all, so how was I to know?), it ought to have been labeled 'Insanity.' Silly gringa. My mouth burned, and I gulped my margarita a little faster than was probably advisable. Things began to get a bit blurry in the hot sunshine.

Delicious marinated pork carnitas, in taco form.

Mike is experiencing the painful-yet-pleasurable pangs of Taco Anticipation!

Whereas your girl here is in the throes of the pure pleasure of Taco Enjoyment.

The spread, in all its deliciousness. Truly these were outstanding, if simple, tacos. A paragon of the form. If only I hadn't made mine so damned spicy!

Apparently, one of the vendors was offering grasshoppers (traditionally known as chapulines), which we noticed after glancing across our picnic table at another munching festivalgoer, hunched over a paper tray full of what can only be described as bug taco. Mike spoke up, 'Are those really crickets, man? Grasshoppers? Are they any good?' At which point our slightly inebriated friend--who was posing merrily for photos with individual fried insects perched, quivering, on his tongue--starting waving the remains of a half-eaten bug taco around, saying, 'Here, try some! No, try some! Really!' Mike backed away, more from the 'drunk guy's half-eaten taco' aspect of the offer than the chapulines themselves. The guy seemed a little less than enthused with his taco, to be honest, based on his insistent attempts to give it away. Maybe the grasshoppers weren't fresh that day. Maybe--most likely--he'd lost a bet with friends. No matter, sensing an Andrew Zimmern-style opportunity, Mike and I went searching for the grasshopper tacos up and down the row of food stalls, to no avail. No chapulines for us, we'd have to be content with more succulent pork and beef short rib portions. Life can be so unfair*. ;)

(*It sounds like I'm being kinda flippant here, but really, I was pretty disappointed that we couldn't manage to find the stall serving grasshoppers. I mean, how many opportunities do you get to eat grasshoppers? I suspect it was the Barrio Cafe, which we didn't attempt because of an insanely long line. But I will keep trying, dear blog readers.)

Random happy taco festivalgoers, enjoying their tacos.


There were also luchadores! Here you see one flying through the air with the greatest of ease.............

Maybe it's hard to be menacing when you're also so tiny. Maybe the mask helps here?

I enjoy yet another tasty, corn tortilla-wrapped treat, in the company of my husband & best adventurous eater pal, Mike......

.......who fears no taco ever created by man!


A truly inspirational beef short rib taco, provided by Z-lantro (or Blanco? Sorry guys, didn't take notes). We shared this, somehow, although it was difficult not to nibble one another's fingers off for that last bite, so tasty was this taco.



Mike watches as our final taco is expertly prepared by the good folks at La Hacienda.


What looks like melted cheese on top was actually, I believe, some kind of blended mango salsa. The hint of sweetness blended with the smoky spiciness of the meat perfectly, and was the perfect note on which to leave the AZ Taco Festival. We staggered out, bellies full of meat & cabbage & spice, vowing not to eat another taco again for a long, long time.

Until about two days later, when we decided that we had to make the perfect beef short rib taco, just like that one, sublime, juicy one we'd tasted at the festival. You know how these things go.

And so we purchased an insane four pounds of beef short ribs, fired up Betty*, and proceeded to eat tacos for the next six meals. You know. Everything in moderation.

('Betty' is the name of our slow cooker, named for Betty Draper of the excellent & fantastic television show 'Mad Men.' She cooks all day long while we gallivant around doing other exciting things. Now if only she'd fix us a martini when dinner was ready, she'd be the perfect kitchen appliance.)

Short ribs, briefly browned for maximum flavor and rubbed with spices and garlic, ready to be bathed in beer, onions, and chipotle peppers for the next 6-8 hours. You can start this in the morning and relax all day long, knowing that Betty is taking care of dinner for you. Recipe follows below, feel free to use it to start your very own at-home Taco Festival. Luchadores and margaritas, however, not provided. ;)

World's Best Beef Short Rib Slow Cooker Tacos

(The two of us ate this for the next six meals, at an average of about three small tacos each per meal, this amounts to about 36 servings? Your mileage may vary)

4 lbs beef short ribs
1 tablespoon finely minced fresh garlic
1 tablespoon chili powder
1 tablespoon dried oregano
1 tsp. cumin
1 tsp. seasoned salt
1/2 tsp. black pepper
1/2 can of chipotle peppers (we had these left over from a previous meal, and they add tremendous heat and a smoky flavor that I just love. If you don't have these on hand or want to use them--they are spicy!!--add hot sauce or cayenne pepper to taste, instead)
1 whole white onion, finely chopped
6 oz. beer (about half a bottle.......go with something light in color and flavor. We used our favorite Russian lager, which seemed just right)
juice of 2 limes, or equivalent amount of vinegar
1 tablespoon sugar

small corn tortillas
queso fresco (crumbly white Mexican cheese, try hard to find this if you can!)
salsa (Mike makes his own fresh salsa, which is delicious......use your preferred salsa)
ripe avocado slices

Heat skillet to medium-high heat. Season short ribs with seasoned salt only, place in skillet in batches so you don't crowd the pan, brown on all sides and set aside to let cool on a plate. Combine minced garlic with remaining spices to form a paste. Once short ribs are cool enough to handle, rub each generously with spice paste.

Add meat to slow cooker along with onions and chipotle peppers, place slow cooker on 'Low.' In a separate bowl, whisk together beer, lime juice or vinegar, and sugar. Pour over mixture in slow cooker, mix gently to combine.

Place lid on slow cooker and try to forget about it for the next 6-8 hours (this will be difficult once your house starts smelling amazing, trust me).

About an hour before we planned to eat these (after maybe 6 or 7 hours of slow cooking), we removed the meat and gently shredded it with a fork--an easy task at this point. Place it back in the braising liquid to soak up the remaining goodness for the next hour or so. If you're making fresh salsa, this is a good time to do it, to allow it a little time to marinate.

Serve on corn tortillas (best when toasted slightly on either side in a hot skillet and a tiny amount of vegetable oil just before serving), with fresh salsa, ripe avocado slices, and crumbly queso fresco. Congratulations, you have just made the World's Best Beef Short Rib Taco, and are now holding it in your hand. Enjoy!

Here's a little 'DVD extra bonus feature' from our last Spanish-style dinner party.......dancing baby octopi!! ;)

Attempted Murder in the Suburbs.

Nearly a week ago today, I attempted murder. I stalked my victims, desperately, in two separate locations across town, only to be thwarted at every turn. And I'm not sorry. In fact, I plan to try again, and the next time, I will be successful. There will be blood on my hands, as well as on my conscience.

Put down your phone. Before you call the police, you should know that it will be the clear blood of crustaceans that I will have on my hands. And if all goes deliciously, all over my plate and my happy, smiling face as well.

This post, however, isn't just about failed attempts, but also about an eventual major kitchen success. Let me back up and explain a little. You see, last week I was eliminated from the online cooking challenge known as Project Food Blog, and while I'm proud of the efforts I put forth and satisfied to have made it through several eliminations, on the day I was cut from the contest I was feeling..........a little less than zen about the whole thing. Emotional, shall we say. Turbulent. Murderous.

I wanted to kill something for my dinner.

An image swam up suddenly in my memory. I recalled the plastic bucket of lively, crawling crawfish--crayfish?--that I'd seen just a few days' previously at the local Asian market when I was stocking up on tiny baby octopus. They look like sweet little wee baby lobsters, crawfish, and I have a major weakness for anything that crawls or wriggles forth from the sea in a shell. I'd already been somewhat prepared to do some Major Cooking that evening, just in case I made it through the latest round of PFB eliminations, and I'd had crustaceans on my mind. Surely fate had decreed these tiny lobsters to die for my supper. Yeah, fate, that's it. Fate. I headed to the Mekong Market, fork in hand and crustacean bib in place. But the crawfish, they were gone! Not a single claw left behind. Undeterred, I chased my intended victims south to my old favorite haunt, Lee Lee Market, usually the home of many still-living sea delights. And found.........nothing. Not one crawfish. I cursed and raged at having, apparently, missed crawfish season by a few poorly-timed days. Nothing would die for my dinner that evening, at least, not by my own hand. I settled, grumbling something about bloodlust, for a pound of truly tasty-looking giant whole prawns instead. I had some serious shrimp and grits on my mind.



'You were supposed to be a wriggling, living, sacrificial crawfish! My bloodlust must be satisfied!'


Just look at him. He's speechless with fright.

Classic shrimp and grits in a bowl are a fine thing, and I've been served more than one outstanding bowl of them in my lifetime. I remembered one version in particular that was sweetly smoky and spicy, flavored gently with bacon and possessing subtle heat. That was the taste I was after. Still I wanted to try something I'd never seen before, to see how far I could change up the form without getting too far away from the fact that this was, in essence, delicious shrimp and simple sweet ground corn on a plate. I decided to go with an uptown cousin of 'cheese grits,' a smooth slab of polenta infused with smoked provolone cheese. Sliced, baked until crispy-edged and stacked with a creamy shrimp filling in between each layer, towering high above the plate with a whole cooked creature perched on top, this is what I was picturing. Surrounded by a sprinkling of whole corn kernels browned lightly in butter, dressed with a smoky roasted tomato, chipotle & bacon concoction. Are you racing to the kitchen? Are you cooking this yet?? You should be.

Start with a few oven-roasted whole tomatoes. I baked a few pieces of bacon right alongside these, at 350, because I love the way bacon turns out in the oven instead of the stovetop. Press tomatoes through a wire mesh sieve to leave behind skins and seeds. Add a few chipotle peppers (your level of heat preference may vary) and the crumbled bacon, pulse briefly in food processor until sauce is combined but still chunky. Set aside.

Make polenta, adding plenty of grated smoked provolone cheese (smoked Gouda would also be amazing here). Pour into a pan, making sure that you get a layer at least 3/4" deep, for maximum interior-creaminess-to-exterior-crispiness ratio. Cool polenta. Slice polenta. Bake polenta at 425 degrees on a pan well coated in olive oil, for 40 minutes or until both sides are lightly browned (turn once, halfway through). This step takes the longest, but you can do everything else while waiting on the polenta to get crispy.

Prepare a pot of boiling water, salted lightly. If you've got a glug of white wine and a bayleaf handy, so much the better, get them in there. Take your giant prawns--wait, you bought those suckers in Chinatown with the heads on, right?? I sure hope so, fella, because there's nothing better than sucking the scalding hot head fat and brains out of these once they're cooked, believe me. You're going to suck on those things like something out of a George Romero movie. Say it with me now.......Fat Is Flavor. Good. Now take your giant, whole prawns and boil them briefly until cooked. Reserve one whole prawn per serving, then shell the rest and add to food processor along with softened cream cheese, making sure to squeeze the contents of each head into the mixture. Add a small amount of chipotle (I used one half of one pepper, subtle heat is what you're after here), pulse to combine but don't over-blend ('shellfish mousse' is not what you're after here), make sure there are still decent-sized pieces of shrimp visible in the mixture. Set aside.

Once your polenta squares have browned up nicely in the oven, lower heat to 350, then smear a little of the shrimp mixture on each square and stack to your desired height. Crown each stack with a very dignified-looking whole boiled prawn. Hint: a well-placed bamboo skewer applied here is an amateur food stylist's best friend. Place in warm oven for about a minute or two to re-warm everything and let flavors combine. While this is happening, quickly brown a small amount of butter in a skillet, place corn in butter and saute until done. Salt and pepper to taste. Remove plates from oven and place a ring of caramelized corn around each stack. Drizzle lightly with tomato-chipotle-bacon dressing. A handful of fresh, barely chopped basil is essential for finishing this off--the bright green herbal zing balances the heavier flavors perfectly.

A sprig of fresh basil also makes an ideal garnish. When I first dreamed up making this dish with a whole crawfish perched on top, I imagined him clutching a mini sprig of fresh herbs in one stiff, reddened claw, bouquet-style. Because really, what's more inviting than a dinner that says, 'Eat me! And here....I also brought you some flowers'? Shrimp not having claws and all, you'll kind of have to use your imagination here, but I think the effect is still charming.

Enjoy with the one you love, or at least the one you love well enough to share some reasonably expensive shellfish products with, and some nicely chilled white wine. Before long, your plates will look like this:




This was an amazing meal, a lot of work, certainly, but perfect for those time when you feel like doing some Major Cooking indeed. And it's proof of two things. One, that it's possible to elevate a relatively lowly or simple concept to something much more artistic and delicious without destroying it completely--in fact in this case, I think it's better than the original. And second, it's possible to dream up a meal and execute it more or less perfectly, even when your original plans go somewhat awry. Often times, it all works out in the eating.

And speaking of 'execute.' Hmmmm.

I may have missed crawfish season by a narrow margin, and my fever may have been temporarily quenched by this wonderful, satisfyingly pretty meal. But. But. This bloodlust never sleeps. Sooner or later, I will have the chance to murder again, and I'm planning it now. I saw some lively crabs scrambling around in a bucket at the market, after all, and it just might be their turn.............

Muaah hahh hahh haaaaaaahh.