Five Spice Carrot Soup: Winter Inspiration

It's that time of the year.

Spring is official -- and yet, here in the Midwest, we haven't quite moved officially into any semblance of a "growing season."  And yet, I can just taste all of the deliciously fresh spring greens that will soon be coming out of the cold frames and greenhouses.  I'm starting to get a taste for that first obnoxiously delicious batch of truly local asparagus that's just bursting with

In the meantime, it seems we're stuck with the root vegetables.

I shouldn't malign those hearty vegetables whose veracity allows them to withstand even the initial bite of Wisconsin winter weather, and whose thick skin allows them to submit gracefully to the challenges of storage in cellars, produce drawers, and basements.

But, I must admit that I get tired of them.  By the time March rolls around, I'm tired of eating produce from last fall. I want something fresh and green.

Fortunately, just when I'm about to give up hope, I always seem to be apt to stumble upon awesome recipes like this one that give me the courage to persist a little bit longer.

Inspired by a recipe sent over to me by Rachel from Healthy Food Whole Life, and a bin of vegetables obtained from the great people over at Fresh Picks, a delivery service that offers year-round delivery of a wide range of local and organic vegetables, I made this recipe for the first time in February for one of our annual Soup Night events.

It's sweet and lively, thanks to the rich combination of carrots and sweet potatoes, with just the right amount of spice from a dash of Chinese five spice powder, which offers up a series of complex notes from cinnamon to fennel to star anise.

Although a garnish certainly would have made the photo prettier, this is the sort of soup that holds its own, and needs very little in the way of embellishment -- though a scattering of something crunchy would only enhance its silky charms.

Five Spice Carrot Soup

©BURP!

Labor Day Weekend: Preserving the Harvest

  

It's been quite the weekend. We've spent the past three days working on cooking projects. Smoking corn on the cob. Roasting red peppers. And canning everything in our wake.

1950's corn relish
Fire-roasted pepper-tomato sauce
Roasted red pepper spread
Harissa
Lemon pickles
Chipotle salsa
Tomato juice
Tomatillo salsa

We're utterly exhausted. And yet the work was entirely worth it.  We have a pantry filled with gorgeous canned goods that will last us well into the spring.

Best of all, we did it on a relative shoe-string. $22 for 25 lbs of tomatoes at the market. Just $20 for 5 dozen ears of corn. Merely $25.00 for a year's worth of tomatillos. A straight-up $15 for a few pounds of dried chiles at the local ethnic market. And $60 for 30# of organic red peppers.  Every bit of it local. Every dollar of it well spent.

Canning is tiring work. The kitchen is hot. Our feet are sore.  But, somehow, it's worth all the effort.

After all, we've spent mere hours storing up foodstuffs that will feed us for days and weeks.  It's nourishing food that will sustain us through the autumn, winter, and most of the spring.  And best of all, we know exactly where it came from and what's in it.

We're genuinely looking forward to the night when we can enhance that otherwise straight-forward chicken panini with roasted red pepper spread.  We can't wait to create a quick weeknight pasta with fire-roasted pasta sauce.  And we can't even begin to explain how the priceless it is to have access to fresh-frozen sweet corn that tastes like it came right off the grill in the middle of February.

And don't even talk to me about the amazing bloody marys we'll be making with that tomato juice. Best. Ever. No lies.

Happy end-of-summer everyone!
Happy Eat Local Challenge Milwaukee!
Hope your weekend was lovely and your harvest season is bountiful!

©BURP! Where Food Happens

Summer Tomato Sauce: Canning Made Easier

What do you do with 45 lbs of locally grown organic San Marzano tomatoes??  Or maybe the question is better asked, what CAN'T you do?

I've been shying away from canning tomatoes for a very long time.  Most years, when the tomato harvest hits, I spend my time roasting up batches of delicious plum tomatoes and packing them into the freezer. You'll also find me busily dehydrating all of the Principe Borghese tomatoes we've harvested from our garden.  But, canning?

Not sure what it was, but for years I avoided canning.  This year, I took it up out of necessity.

Our chest freezer has been a savior for us when it comes to our ability to eat more locally all winter long.  We pack it full of frozen fruit, vegetables, locally raised meat, soup, and homemade sauces.  And we relish the days when we can pop it open in the middle of February to produce a container of fresh Wisconsin peaches, Door County Cherries, or spicy chili made with garden vegetables.  Unfortunately, we've done a really good job of stowing things away in the freezer.  And our freezer is getting full.  The realization hit me a few weeks ago after clearing away just enough space for a new batch of late summer Amish chickens.

We were out of space.

Fortunately, I had cut my canning teeth on a few easy items last summer.  Pickled & candied jalapenos, a few jars of tomatillo salsa, and a small stash of citrus marmalade gave me some confidence in my ability to create shelf-stable foods that wouldn't inflict us with botulism. So, this year, I decided to tackle tomatoes.  More specifically, pasta sauce.


I love a good homemade pasta sauce as much as anyone.  But, I also have learned to enjoy the convenience of an occasional jar of store-bought pasta sauce for quick weeknight dinners.  So, pasta sauce seemed like a pretty logical investment of our time and tomato money.

Now, washing and coring 45 pounds of fresh tomatoes isn't a big deal once you put your mind to it.  But, peeling and seeding them? Ugh. Not my idea of fun. And that's where a new favorite gadget of mine comes into play -- the West Bend Food Strainer & Sauce Maker.

I should probably clarify that I'm not much of a gadget girl.  I love the feeling of being creative and finding multiple uses for common kitchen tools.  And my kitchen is pretty small -- so I don't have a whole lot of space for single-use tools. But, I'm pretty in love with this tool. This multi-use strainer forces food through a stainless steel screen automatically separating the juice and pulp from the seeds skins and stem.  Best of all, it does it quickly and efficiently.  And I mean quickly.  And efficiently.  

To quote Peef, "I love it when I can seed and peel tomatoes with one hand while drinking a beer with the other."

Once we got all that raw tomato pulp and juice extracted from the tomatoes, it was just a matter of cooking the sauce with a few herbs and spices (namely basil, oregano, thyme, cracked anise seeds, and garlic) and reducing it to the perfect pasta sauce consistency.   Once that was completed, we moved along to the canning and processing phase of things -- which is pretty methodical.  

Canned Pizza or Pasta Sauce ala Burp!

And now for the fun part!  We get to give one of our lucky readers the chance to win a West Bend Food Strainer & Sauce Maker of his or her very own!!  

For your chance to win, just leave us a comment sharing one of your favorite time-saving canning tips.  Or, if you're not a canner, let us know how you'd use your food strainer to make one of your kitchen tasks easier.

Rules:  All comments must be received by Monday evening, September 12th, 2011 at 5:00 p.m. CST  Winners will be announced on Facebook before the end of the day on Tuesday, September 13th.  Entrants must provide a working email address in their comment or blogger profile to win.  Limited to citizens of the U.S. and Canada.

Alright, ready...set... go!

Full Disclosure:  Although we were given West Bend Company products free of charge for the purpose of this review and giveaway, all opinions expressed in this review are our own.  
 

©BURP! Where Food Happens

Celebrate September: Eating (and Buying) Locally

I think it was 2008 when we first participated in the Eat Local Challenge. That first year changed the way we looked at our eating habits, and it started us on a brand new journey toward more sustainable living.

In her 2001 memoir, This Organic Life, Columbia University nutritionist Joan Dye Gussow writes that her commitment to eating locally "is probably driven by three things. The first is the taste of live food; the second is my relation to frugality; the third is my deep concern about the state of the planet."

We have to concur with her sentiments -- though probably to greater and lesser degrees.  For us, the primary reason for choosing to eat locally is definitely the flavor quotient.  Food grown close to home simply tastes better.  There's more variety, more diversity, since local food doesn't need to be bred to survive thousands of miles of transport.   

Frugality is certainly a concern when we purchase food products.  But, it's not necessarily a driving force.  When we purchase a locally grown product, we're making a conscious choice to spend our hard-earned money to support a local farmer and his/her farm. Sometimes that's not the cheaper option -- because we're buying from small family-owned farms, not huge corporate agribusinesses.  But, I can always feel good about that decision because it means I'm assisting in preserving farming as a livelihood.  Now, if I'm honest, I'll admit that our decision to spend our money this way means we make some trade-offs.  We don't eat out or go to the movies terribly often.  We spend quite a bit less on clothing and shoes than we used to.  And we don't have cable television.  But, it's worth it to us.

The earth is also a concern of ours -- though primarily from the perspective that it's our obligation to be good custodians of what we've been given.  We have a great deal of confidence in the technology being used to develop alternative energy sources, so we're not pessimistic about the state of our world.   But, it's a nice feeling to know that we're saving on energy & fuel costs, and keeping more money in our local economy, by supporting our local purveyors.

Eating locally is also, in our guesstimation, a safer option. When we get to know the farmers at our local farmer's market, we get a first-hand look into how they farm. We are able to ask them how they view the use of chemicals in agriculture, and we can talk with them about their growing philosophies. That kind of transparency doesn't exist when we buy a package of pre-washed organic spinach at the grocery store.

When we buy locally, we help keep my local farmers in business, and they help keep us well fed.  And, when it all comes down, it's the elegance and sustainability of that exchange that is so very compelling... and certainly far more sensible than gambling on faceless producers who grow produce thousands of miles from my home.

And now... the fun news!

This year, in celebration of our fourth annual Eat Local Challenge, we've partnered up with the West Bend Company, a local kitchenware manufacturer that is celebrating its 100th year anniversary.  For the next three Wednesdays, beginning tomorrow, we'll be giving you insight into some ways we make the most of local foods & food products.  We'll be giving you a first-hand look at the benefit and functionality of some awesome kitchen items made by the West Bend Company.  

Best of all, we'll be hosting three very special giveaways that will allow you to try these products out for yourself!


©BURP! Where Food Happens

Orecchiette with Mizuna Pesto

Do you ever notice that your cooking habits seem to run in streaks?  I know that ours do.  For the past couple of weeks, we seem to have gotten hooked on pasta dishes.  It probably has something to do with all the fresh greens we were finding at the market, since we've been on a bit of a pesto kick.

Purists we are not, since we seem prone to making pesto out of just about any available greens we have on hand.  We're constantly tossing in variables -- jalapeno peppers, roasted red peppers, sundried tomatoes -- just to keep things interesting.  


This week, the object of our pesto-love was a Japanese green called mizuna.  Sometimes called Japanese mustard, mizuna has a mild, yet tangy flavor, and an almost other-worldly bright green color when chopped.  I normally like to put it in salads or use it as a sandwich topping. But, when Bryan from the Jen Ehr Family Farm booth at the market mentioned that he'd been making his mizuna into pesto, we decided to try our hand at it too.

Into the food processor went our bunch of mizuna (ends trimmed), 5 stalks of green garlic, and a liberal dose of olive oil.  We set the pasta on to boil while we were making the pesto, then tossed the pasta with the pesto and a bit of reserved pasta cooking water.

The best part of all?  Dinner was on the table in less than 20 minutes.

I chose a bag of those lovely, cup-shaped, whole wheat orecchiette pasta for this dish, envisioning that the shape of the pasta would help to scoop up all of that lovely pesto sauce -- and I was right about that. We also used whole toasted pine nuts (instead of grinding them into the pesto) to give the pasta some additional texture.

The pesto was absolutely delicious, if a bit more mild than I expected. And, as you can see, it was a beautifully intense green color (pretty is always a bonus with food). We had a bit of extra sauce leftover, and we used that as the base for a chicken pizza a few days later.

So, next time you get tired of eating mizuna in your salad, think about  making it into a quick summer pesto.

Classic Pesto (with variations)


©BURP! Where Food Happens
Want more? Read Lo's latest ruminations at DEVOUR Milwaukee, her Milwaukee Magazine blog.

Stinging Nettle & Garlic Puree: Putting Up a Bit of Spring

I'm not really a fan of the summer months. I know that's probably perplexing, and maybe a bit difficult to believe. But, the truth is, I'm not great with heat and humidity,  I'm a far bigger fan of the spring and autumn, when cooler winds blow and the sun flits her lashes at us a bit more demurely.

But I reallyreallyreally love the process of stuffing our coffers with all the delicious flavors that summertime offers. And I get a serious kick out of bringing a creative spin to all the delicious foodstuffs we decide to "put up."

Last year we started our preserving adventures somewhere in mid to late summer.  We froze Door County peaches and we made both pickled and candied jalapeno peppers. We perfected our tomatillo salsa and stockpiled both roasted red and poblano peppers. We managed to put up enough fruit to get us through the winter without buying very much at all, except a few errant bunches of bananas for our morning smoothies. And we enjoyed fresh-frozen pesto right up through the first weeks in June. But, this year, I wanted to begin the adventures sooner.  After all, there are a great many early summer delights that can be harvested and preserved.

I've been inspired for years by the foraging prowess of Langdon Cook, Pacific Northwest resident, foraging expert, published author and blogger at Fat of the Land.   Although Langdon presents a phenomenally wide repertoire of both adventures and recipes, I've been most inspired by some of this writings on stinging nettles.  His love for these humble weeds made me anxious to find some of my very own.  And I can report success this summer, thanks to Dave Swanson of Braise and the amazing farmers over at Keewaydin Organic Farm in Viola, Wisconsin.

This year I was the proud recipient of just over 2 pounds of fresh stinging nettles.I was almost giddy as I slipped on a pair of latex gloves in preparation to wash and trim my nettles.

 I had no idea what to expect from these ultra-green, nutrient packed weeds.  I knew that a handful of nettles provides more than 100 percent of the recommended daily allowance of vitamin A, as well as a plethora of minerals  I also knew that they made a power-packed, if somewhat unappealing, tea.  But I wondered after their flavor. Was it earthy?  Woodsy?  Interminably chlorophyllic?

Since nettles must be blanched to rid them of their infamous stinging barbs, we brought a large pot of cold water to a rolling boil and began the process.

We blanced and chopped and pulsed and blended.  And we ended up with a delicious and pesto-like nettle and green garlic paste, which I could easily freeze in manageable portions for use all winter long.

I foresee mixing the nettle paste with pasta and whole toasted pine nuts for a delicious weeknight meal, spreading the past on pizza, and adding dollops of it to soups, risottos, and scrambled eggs on lazy February weekends.

It was a simple thing. But, it made me oh-so-very happy.
I can't wait to see what we'll put up next.


©BURP! Where Food Happens
Want more? Read Lo's latest ruminations at DEVOUR Milwaukee, her Milwaukee Magazine blog.

Year-old Leeks Make Awesome Breakfast Sandwiches

As I was sitting down this afternoon to contemplate what delicious thing to blog next, it occurred to me that I never told you about a delicious brunch sandwich we threw together almost a month ago.

It was a fairly lovely weekend, weather-wise, so we decided to spend some time prepping the vegetable gardens for summer planting... pulling weeds, working the soil a bit, and spreading out whatever compost our bins had produced over the course of fall/winter.  But, it was also time, I decided, to pull the leeks!

For the second year in a row, I'd overwintered a couple dozen Bandit Leeks -- a cold hardy variety which produces nice thick stalks with a pleasantly sweet, mild flavor.  I love winter-hardy vegetables like the bandit leek for their ability to give me backyard-fresh produce so early in the season -- a true gift, especially after a long, hard Wisconsin winter.  And it seems a bit of a miracle to me, at times, that these lovely tender spring leeks are the product of an entire YEAR of growth.

These pictures are from our crop last year (this year's leeks were eaten down a bit by hungry bunnies, so they weren't quite as photogenic):

You'll note that these 2010 leeks have very long green tops.  Well, I learned my lesson and buried this year's crops of leeks quite a bit deeper this year, so we had longer, more impressive white stalks in our 2011 harvest.  But, even these short, nobby stalks were quite tasty -- and  a welcome spring treat.

After marveling at the way they survived even the brutality of this year's winter (during which we received record amounts of snow, and plenty of cold), I pulled a few of this year's leeks fairly early in the morning. Since it was just before breakfast, I washed them, sliced them into thin strips, and allowed them to sweat slowly in some sweet cream butter with a bit of freshly clipped tarragon (which was just starting to green up out in the herb garden).  When the leeks were meltingly tender, I added a few whipped eggs, cooking them up into a soft scramble.

We had leftover rolls from some Cuban sandwiches we'd made the evening before, as well as some Virginia ham. So, along with a bit of Swiss cheese, everything came together to create a lovely, flavorful spring sandwich.  You can just imagine the sweet, slightly oniony flavor of the leeks pairing just perfectly with the salty ham... and dancing gracefully on your tongue with the subtlest hint of cool, tender, anisey tarragon.

It was the sort of sandwich that would be perfect eaten right out on the patio as the sun was rising on a cool spring morning.  Can't you just feel the dew between your toes as you sip your coffee and take in all the vibrant green hues -- the grass, the budding trees -- along with the scent of the late blooming tulips and early blooming lilacs?

To me, this is the perfect kind of food.  It's the sort of dish that makes the most of that perfect moment in a given season. In this case, it's  lovely convergence of winter greeting spring, dormancy springing to life, and hunger meeting the ultimate in satiation.



©BURP! Where Food Happens
Want more? Read Lo's latest ruminations at DEVOUR Milwaukee, her Milwaukee Magazine blog.

Spring Scallop Tacos with Strawberry Salsa

Although summer has been slow to arrive here in Wisconsin, and we're growing impatient for the bountiful produce that promises to show up at the farmer's market ANY DAY NOW, we're making a real effort to enjoy the best of the season.

Just take a look at the delicious scallop tacos we threw together last weekend -- grilled sea scallops on a bed of fresh cucumber slaw and topped with a deliciously sweet & spicy strawberry salsa.

It was a deliciously light entree, and one of those dinners perfect for throwing together on a sweltering summer evening when it's simply too hot to turn on the stove.

It was also uncommonly delicious.  The strawberry salsa, which contained scallions, lime juice, and a bit of bite from jalapeno peppers, perfectly complemented the buttery scallops, while the shredded cucumbers (which had been drained and tossed with cilantro), provided a crisp, fresh crunch.

I was particularly proud of the fact that a significant percentage of the ingredients to make this dish were both local and seasonal...  with one pesky exception.  The seafood.

It can be difficult being a locavore if you're a seafood lover living in Wisconsin.  For, while we do have our fair share of lake-sourced fish -- including Walleye, Northern Pike, Trout, Bluegills, and Perch --  there are some items blatantly missing from the locally sourced fish list.

Sea scallops are at the very top of my list.  These delicious bi-valves are meaty, clean-tasting and uncommonly sweet.  Even better, in most cases scallops are a good choice when it comes to sustainable seafood.  But, there is nowhere in Wisconsin to buy a locally raised scallop.

So, what's a gal to do?
For a while, as we initially made the transition to eating more local foods, I avoided eating seafood that I couldn't source from "home".  But, after giving the situation a great deal more thought, we've since changed our tune.

When it comes to our local eating philosophy, it's probably important to clarify that we are hardly purists or perfectionists.  The fact is, MINDFUL eating is really more of what we espouse.  While we pay attention to where our food comes from, we also care about but how it's been produced, and the impact its having on not only our bodies & health, but the world around us.  We are responsible for the foods that we allow into our bodies, and we make decisions accordingly.  Likewise, we emphasize a way of living that is clearly sustainable for us all year round (not just during the summer months).

If we have the choice between eating a locally grown apple and one imported from Washington State, we'll be most likely to opt for the local apple.  Likewise, if we can find local sources for meat, dairy, and cheese, we'll be unlikely to bother with purchasing products from outside of Wisconsin.  However, the fact also remains that there are highly nutritious and delicious foods that  it makes sense to import because we can’t grow them here.  This list includes items like bananas, pineapple, coffee, coconut, and the like.  For us, it also includes seafood.

We choose to purchase scallops every now and again, and we don't feel badly about it. We choose sustainable sources and attempt to support local fish mongers whenever possible.  Most of all, we make sure to take the time to enjoy the food we're eating.

I should mention that we made this dish again last night for company, and we substituted thinly sliced red cabbage for the cucumber.  Also delicious -- and I really liked the additional color & crunch!

Spring Scallop Tacos
Strawberry Salsa

Chicken Parmesan Sandwiches with Tomato Basil Jam

I love February.

It's the time of year when everything in the produce section at the grocery store is either months old (storage veggies like potatoes, onions, and root veggies) or imported from a warmer climate (all of which are bajillions of miles away from Wisconsin). 

It's the season in Wisconsin when the idea of fresh locally grown herbs is a complete anomaly -- unless your green thumb allowed you to get a pot of them to grow in a warm, sunny window at the southeastern corner of your house.

It's the time of year when all the plants outside look dead.  The grass is covered in dirty snow.  And the only thing that looks remotely green are the evergreen shrubs planted in front of most houses on my block.

Ah, yes... despite these things, I really do love February.

You think I'm joking, don't you?
But, I'm not.  The reason I love this time of the year so much is because I'm pretty well prepared for it.  I have a hat to wear when it's cold outside.  And warm, waterproof boots that allow me to tromp through the snow without a care in the world.  And, best of all, my basement pantry and freezer are stocked with items that, when opened, take me back to the days when a sunny day meant a warm day.  When vegetables were in season and at their prime right in my backyard.  And the farmer's market was teeming with new delights each week...   tomatillo salsa, roasted tomatoes and peppers,

And one jar of tomato basil jam -- gifted to me by my friend Rena, whose generosity is surpassed only by her ability to make my day better just by being around.  She gave me the jar of jam last summer, after the tomato harvest, and I've been simultaneously hoarding it and waiting to break into it ever since.

Fortunately, a particular craving inspired me to break it open.  Peef was hankering for a panini.  And I was thinking about summer.  I also happened to have chicken breasts on hand, along with a bit of Wisconsin Sartori Reserve Sarvecchio Parmesan cheese, and a delicious loaf of sourdough bread.

It didn't take much effort to get my creative juices flowing.  First, I took the chicken breasts and pounded them nice and flat between two sheets of waxed paper.

Then we seasoned them up with some Historic Third Ward Seasoning (a delicious Italian blend from our local Spice House), and browned them up in a bit of olive oil.

A few slices of cheese, a spread of tomato basil jam, and a handful of winter greens from Growing Power (an awesome urban farm in Milwaukee that grows fresh micro-greens & salad mixes all winter long-- read more here), and we had ourselves a pretty amazing sandwich.

The tomato basil jam smells of the essence of tomato.  And its flavor followed suit -- reminiscent of a sweet tomato concentrate with just the right hint of fresh basil lingering on the finish.  Although I might ordinarily think that it was a bit too sweet for a sandwich, I really enjoyed how the fresh tasting jam played off of the saltiness of the cheese and the Italian seasonings of the chicken, coming together almost like the sweet/salty combination of a delicious Italian salad dressing.

All in all, opening that jar was like opening a perfectly preserved jar of summer.  Just the sort of thing to cure your February blues.

And just in case you'd like a link to bookmark this jam for next year's summer tomato harvest:
Tomato Basil Jam



©BURP! Where Food Happens
Want more? Read Lo's latest ruminations at FOODCrush, her Milwaukee Magazine blog.

Roast Pork Belly: Burp! Gives Thanks

Yeah, we had pork for Thanksgiving.  But, before you start throwing your turkey carcasses at us, let me explain...

On November 27, 1998, Peef and Lo became one. That is to say, Peef and Lo got married. And if you look back, you will see that November 27, 1998 was a Friday. A Black Friday, in fact.

That's right, we got hitched the day after Thanksgiving.
So, suffice it to say, Thanksgiving has never really been an ordinary holiday for us.

In addition, you might have noticed that we have this little habit of cooking together, and we couldn't imagine any other way to celebrate our marriage than side by side in the kitchen. This results in rather non-traditional Thanksgiving feasts, and this year was by far one of the most inventive.

But more on that in a little bit...

A few months back, we were fortunate to benefit from an otherwise unfortunate event.
Our friend Scott from Bolzano Artisan Meats experienced the pangs of a busted appendix right after he'd received a hog fresh from the farm. During his recovery, he was unable to perform the work needed to transform a fresh pig into cured artisan charcuterie.  So, instead, he offered up a variety of freshly butchered pork cuts for sale to the general public.

When we got the email announcing the sale, I read through the list of available cuts. Pork belly... Picnic roast... Boston Butt...   Heh. I didn't even finish reading. The fact is, he had me at Pork Belly. Lo was excited about getting a picnic roast...but I was stuck on the Pork Belly.

"I needs one," I said to Lo (in a very whiny voice).

Fortunately, Lo loves me, and she agreed that a couple of picnic roasts and a Pork Belly would be a welcome addition to our freezer for future feasts.

One such future feast, as it happens, was Thanksgiving.

Our pork belly turned out to be a thing of beauty. Deliciously pink & beskinned, the belly had a delightful balance between fabulous meat and layers of beautiful white pork fat.  Although Lo decided it smelled a little bit like wet dog, I thought it looked pretty fabulous.

We'd chosen an Asian application from one of the latest issues of Saveur magazine -- mainly because it included step-by-step instructions for achieving a gloriously puffed and crispy layer of cracklin' pork skin -- a delicacy I've been waiting to experience for most of my adult life. 

Interestingly enough, we had most of the ingredients for the pork's marinade right in our cupboard.  All except the preserved red bean curd, which I easily procured from the Asian grocer down the street.

And then the fun began.

We poked the pork skin all over with a sharp knife (and yes, I am now coveting one of those official pork poking tools).  We scalded it with a baking soda and water mixture.  We mixed together the marinade (pausing a bit when we smelled the slighly funky odor of the red bean curd, but persisting nonetheless), and we let everything cure overnight.

On Thanksgiving afternoon, we removed our slightly funky-smelling pork belly from the fridge, placed it on a roasting rack, and set it in the oven.  About an hour later, we opened the oven door and were greeted by a sight for sore eyes.

That pork belly... well, it was positively stellar.

We broke off hunks of the crackled skin and nibbled like greedy little... pigs?   The puffed bits crackled and crunched and filled our mouths with enticingly porky flavor, while the deliciously tender meat, pleasantly caramelized and perfumed with the scent of five spice powder, melted in our mouths.

It was (dare I say it) quite nearly better than bacon.  And it was even better when paired with another of our holiday cooking projects...

...which we'll reveal to you on Friday.
Trust me when I say it's worth the wait. 

In the meantime, feel free to check out the recipe:  Crispy Pork Siew Yoke - Saveur Magazine



©BURP! Where Food Happens
Want more? Read Lo's latest ruminations at FOODCrush, her Milwaukee Magazine blog.

Cinnamon Plum Tea Ice Cream: Holiday Awesome

For those of you whose taste for ice cream bleeds over insatiably into the cooler months of the year, this post is for you.

Making tea into ice cream is nothing new.   Green tea ice cream seems to be making its way into just about every grocery store around the nation.  And plenty of food bloggers are experimenting with recipes for Earl Grey Tea Ice Cream (Mac & Cheese), Irish Breakfast Tea Ice Cream (Coconut & Lime), and even Thai Tea Ice Cream (The Ivory Hut).

So, I decided to try my hand at making some of my own. I chose one of my favorite local brews from Milwaukee's own Rishi Tea, a local company whose tea has been given a variety of top honors, including seven First Place Awards at the 2010 North American Tea Championship. 

Made with fresh local whole milk and cream, cinnamon plum tea, a bit of sugar and a dash of honey, this ice cream is not only stellar on its own, but it makes the perfect filling for ginger snap ice cream sandwiches & an awesome accompaniment to a slice of hot apple pie.

I wouldn't normally double post a recipe like this -- but I know that not everyone is reading my posts over at DEVOUR Milwaukee, and I didn't want anyone to miss this one.  Cuz yeah -- it's really THAT good.


Rishi Cinnamon Plum Tea Ice Cream:
Warming Tea Makes Delightfully Chilly Holiday Dessert



©BURP! Where Food Happens

Wine & Dine Wisconsin 2010

The foodies are alive and eating well here in Wisconsin. And we've got proof:  Wine & Dine Wisconsin.

In its second year, Wine & Dine Wisconsin features some of the best in wine, beer, food, and spirits in the area.  Interested onlookers can sample delicious creations, imbibe a variety of delicious drinks, and learn more about locally made products.

We managed to make it downtown for a few hours this morning to enjoy the festivities. And here are some of the highlights of our day.

First, there was plenty of wine.  But, it's "Wine & Dine Wisconsin" -- so you'd sort of expect that, wouldn't you?  What you might not expect to encounter is a whole line of libations produced in support of God's work. And I present: Holy Spirits: Great Wine on a Mission.

There were also plenty of Wisconsin Dairy products represented -- including a stunning array of Wisconsin cheeses like this Olive Oil & Rosemary variety from Sartori Foods and ice cream from Sassy Cow Creamery.

As expected, there was also plenty of beer -- including a wide range of bottled brews for sampling, and a few from Stella Artois on tap.  Though the Stella Artois beer garden was quite impressive (and a variety of WI brews were represented among the 40 craft brews offered by greatbrewers.com),  we were a bit surprised that there wasn't more representation from our talented Wisconsin breweries.

 

Fortunately, we saw plenty of our favorite local artisans, including Scott from Bolzano Artisan Meats. In addition to some scrumptious charcuterie, Scott also has a pretty impressive moustache -- look at it in the photo below!  Rumor has it, he keeps up his snappy style with a bit of Elmer's Glue.  Scott -- fact or fiction?

Restaurants also offered impressive fare -- including this delicous seafood salad offered by Tutto.

And uber fresh oysters on the half-shell from our friends at Molly Cool's Seafood Tavern. (Incidentally, Molly Cool's will be serving up some of their delicious fare at the Gumbo Git Down next weekend... you won't want to miss it!)

While the beer wasn't particularly local, some of the spirits were -- and we were happy to see the Great Lakes Distillery serving up some of their finest vodka, gin, and their newest release -- Roaring Dan's Rum -- deliciously smooth stuff with a hint of Wisconsin maple syrup.

We were also pretty stoked to have the opportunity to meet Nick & Ira, the master minds behind the Bittercube brand.  These amazing mixologists showed us how to brew up our own nifty homemade bitters and flavored liquors.  In addition to being clever, they also mix up a pretty mean Whiskey Old Fashioned (a recipe they actually call the "Old Double Gold" so as not to confuse WI folks who think an old fashioned needs mashed up orange & maraschino cherry).

We were also happy to find mixologists of another type at the event -- employees of Oro di Oliva oil & vinegar shop -- mixing up delicious blends of olive oils and vinegars for sampling.

 Of course, there was no better way to finish our field trip than with a few sweet treats.  First, we sampled deliciously smooth gelato from our neighbors at Cold Spoons Gelato.  First, we tried the amazing salted caramel gelato... and we cleansed our palates with some of their amazing lemon sorbetto. YUM.

But, no foodie adventure would be complete without Peef's favorite indulgence -- a bit of chocolate. And so we'll leave you with something smooth and spicy -- a bit of chocolate from Indulgence Chocolatiers in Waukesha, Wisconsin.  Truly exceptional stuff.   The Mayan Spice bar is fantastically rich, with an amazing kick from cayenne pepper.  And the milk chocolate sea salt chocolate... well, you've just got to try that to believe it.

 

Wine and Dine Wisconsin runs through tomorrow, October 3rd.  Tickets are $49 at the door.

Cheers!

©BURP! Where Food Happens