Korean Pork Belly Fries: Crazy Delicious Fusion

I'm still musing about that lusciously tender pork belly, the last of which ended up in a batch of fried rice the other night for dinner. But, I also can't stop thinking about the Korean pork belly fries we made with that first round of succulent meat.

It started with an article I read about Chicago's Del Seoul restaurant, located in Lincoln Park, which presents a delicious jumble of Asian inspired fusion cuisine -- cross-cultural tacos, banh mi sandwiches, dumplings, and a variety of not-so-traditional riffs on traditional Asian fare.

One thing on their menu that caught our attention right away were the "Kimchi fries" -- thick hand-cut fries topped with sautéed kimchi and onions, kimchi salsa, thin slices of pork and topped with melted cheddar and Jack cheeses, sour cream, and scallions.

When I mentioned the idea of making these "meal worthy" fries for Thanksgiving, Peef looked at me earnestly, a small tear developing in the corner of his eye, and replied, "Yes, please."

From there, the game was ON.

We started a few days early to give ourselves time to put together a homemade batch of Korean kimchi. Following the wisdom of a variety of recipes, we decided upon a simple version of the classic -- featuring locally grown Napa cabbage and gorgeous fuschia-flecked Beauty Heart radishes.

By the time Thanksgiving arrived, our kimchi was bubbling along nicely and it was time to think about making up a kimchi salsa. We kept things simple by putting together a few diced Campari tomatoes (not local, but as good as we'll find this time of the year in Wisconsin), about 1/2 cup of finely diced kimchi, a small handful of chopped cilantro, and a squeeze of lime. The salsa was fresh and spicy with a pleasantly vinegary/limey kick and a LOT of flavor. This salsa would be great with tortilla chips or on fish tacos.

We also sliced up an onion and sauteed it with about 1/2 cup of the kimchi. To that mixture, we added some of the roasted pork belly and set the mixture aside.

And then it was time to make fries. We cut our potatoes (skin-on) into medium sized fries, rinsed them and soaked them in ice water for a few hours, and then gave them a double fry at 375 F -- first for about 10 minutes, and then 2-3 minutes for the second phase.

And finally... we covered those steaming hot, crispy fries with the sauteed kimchi & onions and some shredded Monterey jack & cheddar cheeses. A few moments under the broiler made everything melty -- and then we piled on a dose of the kimchi salsa, some chopped scallions, and a drizzle of sour cream.

You'd think these fries might turn out to be kimchi overload - but they're really not. The vinegar makes a great foil for the richness of the pork belly and the fries. The cooked kimchi delivers a completely different (more subtle) flavor than the fresh, and the salsa really brings a freshness to the dish that made all the other flavors pop.


The verdict? Divine! And crazy delicious.

Simple homemade kimchi

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Want more? Read Lo's latest ruminations at FOODCrush, her Milwaukee Magazine blog.

Sourdough Focaccia with Olives & Rosemary

I killed them both in one fell swoop.
Both were tragic deaths. Unfair. And sudden. And utterly inelegant. And I mourned them both privately and on Facebook.

I now maintain that it was a matter of simple cross-contamination -- yeast meets beast --but I spent weeks wondering about the untimely fate of both my sourdough starter (of 7+ years) and my kombucha scoby (which I'd maintained without fail since early last spring).  I also acted quickly to find replacements.

The scoby was easy enough to replace, since I've given out quite a number of baby scobies to friends & neighbors all over town (and I seem to have developed a waiting list of others who are still awaiting the chance to own a 'booch baby of their own).  But the sourdough...

Fortunately for me, R from Cakewalk was passionately working on one of her latest obsessions -- sourdough culture derived from the fermentation of grapes (a la Nancy Silverton). And she was kind enough to offer me a bit of her brand new starter.

It was gorgeous stuff -- smelling of yeast and ferment and the ever-so-slight perfume of grapes (or was that my consistently overactive imagination?). In any case, it was a wonder of a living food. And I couldn't wait to take it for a test drive.

Interestingly enough, Peef was craving foccacia.  So, we planned a lovely casual weekend dinner of cheese, wine, fruit... and a lovely sourdough experiment.

The dough mixed together beautifully.  I used a mixture of bread flour and a half and half blend of all purpose and white whole wheat flour.  And I gave the loaf a nice long rise (nearly 8 hours total) -- to ensure that the wild yeast had an opportunity to thoroughly develop.

When the dough was finished rising, I hand shaped it on a piece of parchment paper, allowed it to rest, and then put together the toppings. Olives... rosemary...thinly sliced garlic... I hoped that this would be the focaccia of my (sometimes easy to please of late) dreams.

I watched the loaf in the oven as it slowly lifted -- as if levitating -- air flowing through every bubbly crevice. And, as a crust formed along the outer edges of the dough, I saw the bread take form and color beautifully.

The final product was crisp & airy, with a beautifully tender exterior pleasantly dappled with air tunnels.  Although it would have been perfect for sandwiches, we sliced it simply and ate it in big, manly chunks -- spread with tomato basil jam and followed with sheep's milk cheese and a swig of wine.

It was love at first bite - which is exactly why I feel the need to share.  If you can manage to get your hands on a bit of sourdough starter, you must try this recipe.


Sourdough focaccia with olives & rosemary

Oh!  And before I forget -- stay tuned later this week as we write about our adventures with locally made spice blends... I don't think I'd be giving too much away if I suggested there might be a giveaway involved...

Want more? Read Lo's latest ruminations at FOODCrush, her Milwaukee Magazine blog.


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Get Yourself Some Booch: Brewing Kombucha at Home

You’ve probably heard of Kombucha -- a fermented beverage made from sweetened tea. Effervescent, refreshing, and virtually caffeine-free, kombucha has a vinegar-like flavor that some compare to hard apple cider.

Although kombucha is often referred to as “mushroom tea,” it has little to do with fungus. In fact, the fermentation process actually originates from a gelatinous pancake of bacteria and yeast called a SCOBY.

What on earth is a SCOBY?
Well… SCOBY is actually an acronym that stands for Symbiotic Colony of Bacteria and Yeasts. I like to think of it as a little community of "good guys". Together, the bacteria and yeasts work synergistically, and the colonies help to ferment various foods and beverages. In the case of kombucha, the SCOBY feeds on a mixture of sugar and tea, improving the tea’s nutrient profile by increasing B vitamins and food enzymes. The resulting beverage is a pro-biotic beverage believed to contain any number of health-producing compounds. It also contains a little bit of alcohol.

Which, of course, is where all the “trouble” begins.
A raw kombucha brew begins with a very minimal alcohol content (a bi-product of the fermentation process). However, over time, the drink’s yeast continues to convert sugars to alcohol, nudging the content higher and higher. Among bottled kombucha, at least one brand was determined to have reached 2.4% alcohol content according to a study cited in Good Magazine’s initial report on the Kombucha shortage. And this raised some eyebrows. In late June, kombucha producers were forced to pull their product from shelves at Whole Foods due to elevated alcohol levels. And kombucha lovers everywhere have been in withdrawl ever since.

Unless, of course, they’re like us.
We’ve been brewing our own kombucha at home for the past four months. And it’s been quite gratifying. Unlike the home-brewing of beer, in which even the tiniest microbe of bacteria can influence flavor and brewing success, kombucha is a pretty easy (and painless) process. You just need a few basic pieces of equipment, a few tablespoons of tea, some sugar, and a bit of old fashioned patience. And you have the opportunity to adjust the brew to your own particular tastes.

I received my initial SCOBY from my lovely and generous aunt, who has a virtual kombucha LABORATORY going over at her health food store in Hartland, Wisconsin. She’s been brewing kombucha from a wide variety of teas, including green, black, oolong, smoked oolong, and even… yes… Earl Grey tea.

Now, Earl Grey is generally is considered a poor choice for growing a SCOBY since there is some evidence that the bergamot added to the tea is harmful to the culture. However, she’s been brewing delicious Earl Grey kombucha without incident for some time – and I absolutely loved the flavor. So, I decided to take home one of her Early Grey SCOBY.

We made our first few batches of kombucha using an Earl Grey tea from a Milwaukee-owned company called Rishi Tea. We’ve since switched to their China Breakfast Tea, which has a more neutral flavor – the perfect palate for some of our more recent experiments with fruit-infused kombucha.  Some flavors we've brewed up include sweet cherry, raspberry, raspberry peach, watermelon, and blueberry ginger. Most recently, we made up batches of cherry vanilla and peach spice kombucha -- both of which ended up slightly "over" spiced -- but which we'll definitely try again, with slightly different proportions of fruit to spice.

Where can I get a Kombucha SCOBY?
You can buy a SCOBY online. Or, you can simply ask a Kombucha-brewing friend or community member if they’d be willing to share the wealth. Every batch of Kombucha results in the formation of an additional SCOBY, so regular kombucha brewers will usually have extras. I shared one of my first SCOBY with Rebecca from Cakewalk. In fact, she was so excited that she wrote her kombucha brewing adventures back in June, shortly after receiving her SCOBY.

In fact, if you happen to be in the Milwaukee area, email us! We can probably work out a deal ;)

Instructions: Making Kombucha Tea



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Classic Wisconsin Bratwurst

What could be better on a long, holiday weekend than grilling up some of Wisconsin's finest bratwurst? Not much -- unless, of course, the bratwurst came from your very own Wisconsin-grown pig!

That's right. Peef's parents gave us one of those Christmas gifts that food geeks dream about -- a portion of our very own pig. He was processed into a variety of cuts -- pork steaks, ham, chops, bacon... and since this was a Wisconsin-bred piglet, you can't forget the most important part. The bratwurst.

We've been on freezer clean-out duty lately. So, when we found a package of these babies in the deep freeze, we knew they were the perfect thing to thaw out for dinner.
Now, a bratwurst afficionado will be the first to tell you that the bun you use to cradle your bratwurst is almost as important as the sausage itself. And we didn't really have anything appropriate laying around at home. So, we ran right out to pick up some delicious brat buns from our local bakery. These buns are bigger than your average hotdog bun, a little bit crusty on the outside, and perfectly soft and tender on the inside. Just perfect for a good Wisconsin brat fry.
Then we got to work setting up the grill. A good amount of charcoal is key to delicious, evenly cooked brats. And before you put those babies on the grill, you want to make sure that the coals are grey and glowing. Some people like to precook their brats in beer before they grill them -- but we're not big fans. The beer doesn't impart a ton of flavor during the precook, and it tends to dry the poor little sausages out. We prefer the indirect grilling method for our brats. You can approach it in a variety of ways, but we place those gorgeous hot coals right in the middle of the grill, and line up the brats all around the edges.
When the brats are browned nicely on one side, you'll wand to flip them over to brown the other side. Take care to note hot spots around the grill. If you sense that one of the brats is cooking too quickly, move him to a cooler spot. The sausages will start to smell amazing in pretty short order -- but you want to avoid rushing the cooking process. Your patience will be rewarded.
The key to great bratwurst is low, slow cooking. You don't want to cook the sausages too quickly or they'll split open and dry out. Instead, you want to give them a chance to really caramelize on all sides. Your brats will take 20-30 minutes to cook through.
When the brats are cooked, you can bring them in on a plate tented with a bit of aluminum foil. At that point, you'll want to immediately begin dressing your brat bun. First, take a bit of mustard and spread it on one side of the bun. Traditionalist might want a nice, old fashioned grainy German mustard; but, we like a simple, spicy Dijon.
Then, you want to quickly drain the juice from a handful of good sauerkraut. If you're the type who thinks ahead, you can drain the 'kraut while you're grilling the brats; but, you can also do it right before serving. We like to get a bit of lacto-fermented food into our diet whenever we can, so we buy delicious jars of fresh sauerkraut from Spirit Creek Farms in northeastern Wisconsin.
Pile some of the sauerkraut on the bun -- and then spread the other side with a bit of ketchup. This ketchup just so happens to be some of our (quick) homemade "beer ketchup" -- which is the perfect accompaniment for bratwurst. I'll be sure to share the recipe in a future post.
Tuck one of the hot bratwurst into the bun and cover him with a few freshly sliced onions. We opt for raw onions when Vidalias and Walla Wallas are in season, but fried onions are equally good on a bratwurst.
Brats served in this traditional fashion can be a bit messy to eat. You can think of them along the same lines as a chili dog or a nice loaded sloppy joes sammich. But, we like to think that's part of their charm. Tie that napkin around your neck, and bite right on in. I'm going to bet that little beer ketchup stain you get on the left leg of your bermuda shorts will be completely worth the effort it takes to get it out. Cuz once you've tasted a truly great bratwurst, you're never going back to eating those overly processed weiner-like imposters.
For those of you interested in more information about Wisconsin's favorite holiday weekend grilling treat, you don't want to miss The Bratwurst Pages, which describe bratwurst as "Wisconsin's Soul Food." The Web site includes hints and tips for proper bratwurst preparation as well as detailed instructions for eating the bratwurst themselves (don't forget the "bratwash"... AKA, beer). Oh, yeah -- and there's plenty of good humor thrown in there too.

Real Food for Real People!
Check out more posts about Real Food at the Real Food Wednesdays blog carnival!

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