Showing posts with label meat. Show all posts
Showing posts with label meat. Show all posts
Thursday, January 22, 2015
Chicken Apple Meatballs with Bourbon Sauce
We're not here to sell anything.
Nor are we here to tell you what to eat.
OK -- maybe take that last part back. We are totally here to tell you what to eat. And these meatballs are it.
Tender. Savory. And Bourbon!
What more do you need to hear?
I could sell you on the fact that grated apples add both moisture and a bit of flavor to the meatballs, ensuring they aren't dry.
If I tell you they are brushed with butter and baked, does that make them additionally tempting?
AND they have cheese in them! Cheese, people. Delicious Parmesan cheese.
What if I told you they keep nicely in a crockpot and are perfect for parties? Like your SuperBowl party?
Still not convinced?
Wow. I'm not sure we can be friends.
After all, I could eat a whole batch of these by myself. And maybe I will.
Recipe: Chicken Apple Meatballs with Bourbon Sauce
©BURP!
Sunday, April 8, 2012
Easter #SundaySupper: No Fuss Spiral Sliced Ham with Pineapple Rum Chutney
Spiral sliced ham is a boon for
anyone throwing a large Easter gathering. Not only is every slice the same
thickness but, if cooked properly, the ham will be tender and juicy and require
nothing more than a horizontal cut to the bone before serving. The trouble with
spiral sliced hams is that, because they’re already precooked, it’s easy to dry
them out while reheating. This recipe makes use of the slow cooker, which
ensures a moist, tender ham while freeing up your oven for all those delicious
Easter side dishes.
Even better, you’ll impress your
guests when you serve up slices of moist, hot ham topped off with a delicious
sweet & sour pineapple chutney. In the chutney, which can be made 2 days
ahead, lime juice stands in for the usual vinegar, imparting a fruity tang
that’s complimented by the subtle flavors of rum and allspice and the savory
herbal notes of thyme.
Sunday, March 18, 2012
Crockpot Turkey Meatloaf and Lessons Learned
So, today, let's talk meatloaf.
This was our first attempt at crockpot meatloaf. And it's not likely to be our last. But, if we attempt this recipe again, there will definitely be some tweaking.
First, some great things about this recipe. We managed to create a deliciously tender loaf using only ground turkey -- not a small feat, if you've ever made turkey meatloaf before. The trick, add a grated apple to the filling.
We also learned a great new aluminum foil trick to make it easier to remove a crockpot meatloaf from your slow cooker. A few strips of strategically placed foil make all the difference -- and you won't have to fiddle around trying to get a spatula down into and underneath your meatloaf ever again.
Another great thing about this meatloaf was the flavor. Herbs de Provence adds a great counterpoint to the subtle sweetness that the apple adds, and the flavors held up really well to the long slow cooking in the crockpot.
But, there are a few things we'd change.
First, we'd fiddle around with the amount of vegetables we put into the loaf. While it felt virtuous to get a boatload of extra nutrients into a meatloaf, the additional vegetable "filler" made the meatloaf a bit TOO moist. Although we're fans of a deliciously tender loaf, we'd prefer one that held up a bit better to slicing. Before we pull out all the vegetables, though, I think we'll try adding an egg or two to the mix.
We also found that, although quite a number of meatloaf recipes call for you to "flatten" your meatloaf and shape it to the shape of your slow cooker (which, as you can see, we did), in our opinion it resulted in too squatty of a loaf. So, we won't be doing that next time.
All things considered, this wasn't the worst weeknight meal we've ever had. Especially when served up with a hearty scoop of creamy mashed potatoes and our favorite stovetop braised brussels sprouts with blue cheese. But, as usual, our cooking is in a constant state of evolution. And so is our meatloaf.
Got any great crockpot meatloaf secrets to share?
Crockpot Turkey Meatloaf
©BURP! W here Food Happens
Monday, March 14, 2011
St. Patrick's Day Burgers with Irish Whiskey Onions & Cheddar
Get out that green shirt and the Kiss Me I'm Irish Today button because we're getting ready to celebrate one of the most hallowed days on the Burp! calendar -- St. Patrick's Day.
In some ways, we're all about (Irish-American) tradition. St. Patrick's Day is the perfect time to pull out all the stops when it comes to dinner. First, you need a slab of Corned Beef Brisket, accompanied by some delicious cabbage and a pile of potatoes (boiled, roasted, or smashed). A nice Irish Stout is usually the beverage of choice. And it would be a shame to end our St. Patrick's Day feast without a slice or two of Irish Whiskey Cake.
But, we also find ourselves longing to change things up a little bit every now and again. And that's when we come up with delicious experiments like Cheesy Colcannon with Leeks and Reuben Risotto.
This year, our imaginations got the best of us. Peef was craving burgers. And he'd read something somewhere about braising onions in Irish Whiskey. Needless to say, we decided it sounded like a pretty winning combination. So, we got to work.
First, it only seemed right that an Irish burger, similar to a Reuben, would be served on rye bread. So, we mixed up a batch of our favorite focaccia dough (yeah, yeah, I know -- Italian dough for an Irish sandwich...) -- only we subbed out all of the all-purpose flour with rye flour. And we kneaded a small handful of caraway seeds into the dough.
While the bread baked, I set to work caramelizing a nice big batch of onions. When the onions were just about finished, I swirled in a nice splash of Power's Irish Whiskey, which functioned to deglaze the pan and impart a nice, smooth malty flavor to the sweet onions.
Since I figured it wouldn't hurt to tie in a little bit of "corned beef" action, I also hauled out some classic corning spices like juniper berries, allspice, mustard, coriander and cinnamon and ground them up in our spice grinder. These got mixed in with the better part of pound of fresh ground beef. We grilled the burgers to medium-rare on our stove-top grill pan and then topped them with slices of Irish Dubliner cheese, cooking them just long enough for the cheese to melt & begin drooping down the sides.
By the time the focaccia was finished baking, we were both drooling like maniacs. Almost didn't get pictures of the burgers, we were so hungry...
And so, I present: The Irish Burger. This deliciously spiced grass-fed ground beef burger sits atop a slice of sourdough rye foccaccia. It's enrobed with the slightly sweet, nutty tang of the cheese and topped off with the impeccably sweet and flavorful Irish Whiskey-infused onions.
Messy to eat, but extremely satisfying, these burgers were a perfectly unconventional way to begin our pre-St. Patrick's Day celebration.
Irish Burgers with Whiskey-Caramelized Onions
Sourdough Rye Focaccia
©BURP! Where Food Happens
Want more? Read Lo's latest ruminations at FOODCrush, her Milwaukee Magazine blog.
In some ways, we're all about (Irish-American) tradition. St. Patrick's Day is the perfect time to pull out all the stops when it comes to dinner. First, you need a slab of Corned Beef Brisket, accompanied by some delicious cabbage and a pile of potatoes (boiled, roasted, or smashed). A nice Irish Stout is usually the beverage of choice. And it would be a shame to end our St. Patrick's Day feast without a slice or two of Irish Whiskey Cake.
But, we also find ourselves longing to change things up a little bit every now and again. And that's when we come up with delicious experiments like Cheesy Colcannon with Leeks and Reuben Risotto.
This year, our imaginations got the best of us. Peef was craving burgers. And he'd read something somewhere about braising onions in Irish Whiskey. Needless to say, we decided it sounded like a pretty winning combination. So, we got to work.
First, it only seemed right that an Irish burger, similar to a Reuben, would be served on rye bread. So, we mixed up a batch of our favorite focaccia dough (yeah, yeah, I know -- Italian dough for an Irish sandwich...) -- only we subbed out all of the all-purpose flour with rye flour. And we kneaded a small handful of caraway seeds into the dough.
While the bread baked, I set to work caramelizing a nice big batch of onions. When the onions were just about finished, I swirled in a nice splash of Power's Irish Whiskey, which functioned to deglaze the pan and impart a nice, smooth malty flavor to the sweet onions.
Since I figured it wouldn't hurt to tie in a little bit of "corned beef" action, I also hauled out some classic corning spices like juniper berries, allspice, mustard, coriander and cinnamon and ground them up in our spice grinder. These got mixed in with the better part of pound of fresh ground beef. We grilled the burgers to medium-rare on our stove-top grill pan and then topped them with slices of Irish Dubliner cheese, cooking them just long enough for the cheese to melt & begin drooping down the sides.
By the time the focaccia was finished baking, we were both drooling like maniacs. Almost didn't get pictures of the burgers, we were so hungry...
And so, I present: The Irish Burger. This deliciously spiced grass-fed ground beef burger sits atop a slice of sourdough rye foccaccia. It's enrobed with the slightly sweet, nutty tang of the cheese and topped off with the impeccably sweet and flavorful Irish Whiskey-infused onions.
Messy to eat, but extremely satisfying, these burgers were a perfectly unconventional way to begin our pre-St. Patrick's Day celebration.
Irish Burgers with Whiskey-Caramelized Onions
Sourdough Rye Focaccia
©BURP! Where Food Happens
Want more? Read Lo's latest ruminations at FOODCrush, her Milwaukee Magazine blog.
Labels:
beef,
burgers,
cheese,
corned beef,
foccaccia,
meat,
sandwiches,
sourdough,
whiskey
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Cuban Pulled Pork: Next to Bacon
If you have been reading our blog for any length of time, it probably won't shock you when I suggest that pulled pork ranks exceedingly high on our "OMG" list. The fact of the matter is, it's the next closest thing to bacon in my book.
Cuban pork also happens to have a special place in Lo's heart. For years, Lo's friend Gail taunted her with stories about her mother's delicious empanadas. She shared recipes for her fool-proof flank steak, mango bread, and the always memorable Psycho Chicken. She taught Lo to make a great pot of beans. She also introduced Lo to the concept of marinating pork in orange juice, lime, and garlic -- which, if you've never tried it, is an absolute miracle.
So, when Lo stumbled upon Rebecca from Foodie with Family's recipe on Facebook, I knew it was only a matter of time before we'd be indulging in this wonderful Cuban variation on pulled pork.
We didn't use a roast as mentioned in the original recipe since we already had some country style pork ribs in the fridge just begging to be used. We suspect that the fact that the meat was cut up into pieces assisted in intensifying the deliciously citrusy flavor of the meat since we were able to layer the seasonings in between each piece of meat, thereby increasing the surface area that was exposed to the orange-garlic deliciousness.
Yes, the recipe is a process. But, no, it doesn't require a great deal of hands-on time. It simply requires a bit of patience... and maybe some self-control, since the smell that emanates from that slow cooker is bound to drive you a little bit insane.
This pork is so tender, so flavorful that you just might not know exactly what to do with it first. But, trust us when we say that, once you taste it, you'll have no hesitation in finding ways to get it into your belly!
Might we suggest the first night to simply wrap a bit of that luscious meat in a warm corn tortilla and have a side of black beans and rice? Maybe the next night, you could make a pizza with pork, jack cheese, and some refried beans... Or throw together a nice pulled pork panini with plenty of deliciously creamy cheese, as we did.
Of course, if you tire of eating pulled pork every night of the week, you should also be assured that it freezes impeccably, so you can always save it and recreate the perfection that is pulled pork all over again some other time. And doesn't that sound awesome?
So, pour your margaritas (I have a recipe I'll share with you later this week) or Cuban Sidecars and enjoy this delicious Cuban pork however you desire.
Cuban Pork
Suggested listening: Buena Vista Social Club
Revised to include a quick note for those of you thinking of making this recipe: Pay attention to DAY 2 of the recipe, and don't skip the additional finishing sauce! The addition of the pork sauce reduction to the meat really ramps up the flavor of this dish.
©BURP! Where Food Happens
Want more? Read Lo's latest ruminations at FOODCrush, her Milwaukee Magazine blog.
Cuban pork also happens to have a special place in Lo's heart. For years, Lo's friend Gail taunted her with stories about her mother's delicious empanadas. She shared recipes for her fool-proof flank steak, mango bread, and the always memorable Psycho Chicken. She taught Lo to make a great pot of beans. She also introduced Lo to the concept of marinating pork in orange juice, lime, and garlic -- which, if you've never tried it, is an absolute miracle.
So, when Lo stumbled upon Rebecca from Foodie with Family's recipe on Facebook, I knew it was only a matter of time before we'd be indulging in this wonderful Cuban variation on pulled pork.
We didn't use a roast as mentioned in the original recipe since we already had some country style pork ribs in the fridge just begging to be used. We suspect that the fact that the meat was cut up into pieces assisted in intensifying the deliciously citrusy flavor of the meat since we were able to layer the seasonings in between each piece of meat, thereby increasing the surface area that was exposed to the orange-garlic deliciousness.
Yes, the recipe is a process. But, no, it doesn't require a great deal of hands-on time. It simply requires a bit of patience... and maybe some self-control, since the smell that emanates from that slow cooker is bound to drive you a little bit insane.
This pork is so tender, so flavorful that you just might not know exactly what to do with it first. But, trust us when we say that, once you taste it, you'll have no hesitation in finding ways to get it into your belly!
Might we suggest the first night to simply wrap a bit of that luscious meat in a warm corn tortilla and have a side of black beans and rice? Maybe the next night, you could make a pizza with pork, jack cheese, and some refried beans... Or throw together a nice pulled pork panini with plenty of deliciously creamy cheese, as we did.
So, pour your margaritas (I have a recipe I'll share with you later this week) or Cuban Sidecars and enjoy this delicious Cuban pork however you desire.
Cuban Pork
Suggested listening: Buena Vista Social Club
Revised to include a quick note for those of you thinking of making this recipe: Pay attention to DAY 2 of the recipe, and don't skip the additional finishing sauce! The addition of the pork sauce reduction to the meat really ramps up the flavor of this dish.
©BURP! Where Food Happens
Want more? Read Lo's latest ruminations at FOODCrush, her Milwaukee Magazine blog.
Labels:
crockpot,
Cuban pork,
meat,
pork
Friday, January 14, 2011
Daring Cooks January: Cassoulet
Since Lo decided to take a brief hiatus from blogging, I begged and pleaded to do this month's Daring Cooks Challenge... especially once I found out it was going to be cassoulet. After all, EVERYBODY loves a good cassoulet, right?
Heh. I'll be honest, I thought cassoulet was just a fancy name for a casserole... or a "kick-asserole,"which is the name we've coined for the really good casseroles. You know -- the ones that put all others to shame.
And trust me, I've learned a little bit about casseroles over the years. As a child, I attended my fair share of church potlucks. And I endured my share of nasty casseroles. Surprisingly, I still love tater tots. But I prefer them baked or fried and eaten plain, rather than sprinkled on the top of ground mystery meat mixed with can of cream of mushroom soup. But, I digress...
It doesn't really seem like cassloulet would be that big of a deal to make. I mean, c'mon! It's beans layered with meat... and more beans... and then you bake it. Peasants made this stuff way back in the 1300's before electricity, right? How hard could it be?
So, I did a little bit of reading. I found out that cassoulet is a slow cooked stew/casserole that's named after the vessel in which it's cooked, the cassole, which is essentially a big pot that has slanted sides (You might find it interesting to note I like to pronounce the word, cassole, with a nice thick northern WI accent so it sounds like I'm calling someone a bad name. Lo prefers to let it roll off her tongue like she is a pretty lady from France. Ying and Yang I tell ya...) It is truly unfortunate that we do not possess a cassole. But we do have a huge LeCrueset dutch oven. And it's French. So I decided it would do just fine. And fine it did.
I washed my hands, waxed my mustache, and did a little dance. I also may or may not have pulled out my very long, very skinny cigarettes and insist that Lo refer to me as "Pierre"...
And then, I took a look at the recipe.
The first mandatory requirement was to make a confit. Well, remember that pork belly we procured a while back? It was much too large to eat all at once (even over French Fries), so we confited the rest of the pork belly in olive oil. Well, as luck would have it, we still had some left. Mandatory requirement number one accomplished! So, thanks to Lo, I got out of having to do the complicated stuff.
Second step -- make beans. Ha! Making beans is so Cooking 101. I was also required to make up a batch of caramelized onions, brown sausages, and then layer things with bacon. Hmph. These were all things that even a person with minimal cooking skills (such as myself) could easily do.
Looks like once I had that altogether, it was as simple as taking the whole shebang, putting it into the oven, and letting it do its thing. Mmmm, meat and beans.
I continued reading. Turns out the instructions didn't stop there. Oh no. This Kick-assoulet was going to be so good, it required me to cook it all over again the next day.
WHAT?! I had to read the directions again.
I looked at Lo, who knew exactly what I was thinking. She smiled.
"So, THIS is why she needed a break from the blogging world", I thought to myself. "This is the beast that broke Lo's back." Or something like that. Actually, I think I just looked up and said something about how good it is that I don't have a job because this business of "making kick-assoulet" was going to consume me for at least the next 3 days.
And that is when my three day affair with Kick-assoulet officially began.
__________________________________________
Since our confit utilized pork, I was hesitant to use more pork sausages for the cassoulet. So, I went to my friendly little butcher man (not really little, quite large actually), and inquired about my options for duck sausage. He provided me with some lovely duck-links, and about a pound of homemade bacon, which he hand cut right to my specifications. Once I had my meat, I made another stop at the local co-op to get some dried beans before making my way home.
Since I'd procured butter beans (large lima beans), I soaked the beans for 24 hours, then cooked them in the slow cooker for another 16 hours or so. Started them on high for a few hours then switched to low overnight. They were not done yet in the morning, so I let them go for a few more hours. When they finally decided to be done (beans can be stubborn this way, I'm discovering), I drained them and reserved the cooking liquid.
Next I browned the duck sausages. The recipe instructed me to do this in duck fat, but (always the rebel) I did it in bacon drippings. I call that an upgrade. Sausages came out and I cut them into chunks so it would be easier to dish up. Then the sliced onions went in to do their thing. Aren't they pretty?
The caramelized onions made their way into the blender and I ran it until they were smooth. Finished by taking the pork belly and browning it up. And then, it was time to assemble.
I should warn you. This is when it gets really good. I took the thick cut bacon and lined the dutch oven with it.
I put in a good layer of beans. Then I added some duck sausage chunks, topping them off with some of that awesome caramelized onion love from the blender. Repeated that layer again, adding a bit more love puree. I saved the pork belly for the top layer. Added the rest of the heavenly puree and topped with the last of the beans. And then it was "Into the oven with you."
By the time the first round of baking was over, the smells coming out of the oven made me want to rip the door off and shove my face right in the pot. But I didn't. I waited like a good boy. And I didn't even snitch a taste while the beans were cooling down and waiting to be put into the fridge.
The last day was the best day because I had the opportunity to smell all of those intoxicating smells all over again. And this time, I knew that once it was done I could reap the rewards of actually eating it. It took a bit longer to heat through than the recipe indicated, but I was pleased to note that it was worth the wait.
This kick-assoulet was completely amazing. The smokey bacon infused the beans. The duck sausage was succulent and delicious. And the pork belly....well...there are few words that can really describe how good it tasted in my mouth. A wonderful meal for any winter's night.
Recipe: Cassoulet
Our January 2011 Challenge comes from Jenni of The Gingered Whisk and Lisa from Parsley, Sage, Desserts and Line Drives. They have challenged the Daring Cooks to learn how to make a confit and use it within the traditional French dish of Cassoulet. They have chosen a traditional recipe from Anthony Bourdain and Michael Ruhlman.
©BURP! Where Food Happens
Want more? Read Lo's latest ruminations at FOODCrush, her Milwaukee Magazine blog.
Heh. I'll be honest, I thought cassoulet was just a fancy name for a casserole... or a "kick-asserole,"which is the name we've coined for the really good casseroles. You know -- the ones that put all others to shame.
And trust me, I've learned a little bit about casseroles over the years. As a child, I attended my fair share of church potlucks. And I endured my share of nasty casseroles. Surprisingly, I still love tater tots. But I prefer them baked or fried and eaten plain, rather than sprinkled on the top of ground mystery meat mixed with can of cream of mushroom soup. But, I digress...
It doesn't really seem like cassloulet would be that big of a deal to make. I mean, c'mon! It's beans layered with meat... and more beans... and then you bake it. Peasants made this stuff way back in the 1300's before electricity, right? How hard could it be?
So, I did a little bit of reading. I found out that cassoulet is a slow cooked stew/casserole that's named after the vessel in which it's cooked, the cassole, which is essentially a big pot that has slanted sides (You might find it interesting to note I like to pronounce the word, cassole, with a nice thick northern WI accent so it sounds like I'm calling someone a bad name. Lo prefers to let it roll off her tongue like she is a pretty lady from France. Ying and Yang I tell ya...) It is truly unfortunate that we do not possess a cassole. But we do have a huge LeCrueset dutch oven. And it's French. So I decided it would do just fine. And fine it did.
I washed my hands, waxed my mustache, and did a little dance. I also may or may not have pulled out my very long, very skinny cigarettes and insist that Lo refer to me as "Pierre"...
And then, I took a look at the recipe.
The first mandatory requirement was to make a confit. Well, remember that pork belly we procured a while back? It was much too large to eat all at once (even over French Fries), so we confited the rest of the pork belly in olive oil. Well, as luck would have it, we still had some left. Mandatory requirement number one accomplished! So, thanks to Lo, I got out of having to do the complicated stuff.
Second step -- make beans. Ha! Making beans is so Cooking 101. I was also required to make up a batch of caramelized onions, brown sausages, and then layer things with bacon. Hmph. These were all things that even a person with minimal cooking skills (such as myself) could easily do.
Looks like once I had that altogether, it was as simple as taking the whole shebang, putting it into the oven, and letting it do its thing. Mmmm, meat and beans.
I continued reading. Turns out the instructions didn't stop there. Oh no. This Kick-assoulet was going to be so good, it required me to cook it all over again the next day.
WHAT?! I had to read the directions again.
I looked at Lo, who knew exactly what I was thinking. She smiled.
"So, THIS is why she needed a break from the blogging world", I thought to myself. "This is the beast that broke Lo's back." Or something like that. Actually, I think I just looked up and said something about how good it is that I don't have a job because this business of "making kick-assoulet" was going to consume me for at least the next 3 days.
And that is when my three day affair with Kick-assoulet officially began.
__________________________________________
Since our confit utilized pork, I was hesitant to use more pork sausages for the cassoulet. So, I went to my friendly little butcher man (not really little, quite large actually), and inquired about my options for duck sausage. He provided me with some lovely duck-links, and about a pound of homemade bacon, which he hand cut right to my specifications. Once I had my meat, I made another stop at the local co-op to get some dried beans before making my way home.
Since I'd procured butter beans (large lima beans), I soaked the beans for 24 hours, then cooked them in the slow cooker for another 16 hours or so. Started them on high for a few hours then switched to low overnight. They were not done yet in the morning, so I let them go for a few more hours. When they finally decided to be done (beans can be stubborn this way, I'm discovering), I drained them and reserved the cooking liquid.
Next I browned the duck sausages. The recipe instructed me to do this in duck fat, but (always the rebel) I did it in bacon drippings. I call that an upgrade. Sausages came out and I cut them into chunks so it would be easier to dish up. Then the sliced onions went in to do their thing. Aren't they pretty?
The caramelized onions made their way into the blender and I ran it until they were smooth. Finished by taking the pork belly and browning it up. And then, it was time to assemble.
I should warn you. This is when it gets really good. I took the thick cut bacon and lined the dutch oven with it.
I put in a good layer of beans. Then I added some duck sausage chunks, topping them off with some of that awesome caramelized onion love from the blender. Repeated that layer again, adding a bit more love puree. I saved the pork belly for the top layer. Added the rest of the heavenly puree and topped with the last of the beans. And then it was "Into the oven with you."
By the time the first round of baking was over, the smells coming out of the oven made me want to rip the door off and shove my face right in the pot. But I didn't. I waited like a good boy. And I didn't even snitch a taste while the beans were cooling down and waiting to be put into the fridge.
The last day was the best day because I had the opportunity to smell all of those intoxicating smells all over again. And this time, I knew that once it was done I could reap the rewards of actually eating it. It took a bit longer to heat through than the recipe indicated, but I was pleased to note that it was worth the wait.
This kick-assoulet was completely amazing. The smokey bacon infused the beans. The duck sausage was succulent and delicious. And the pork belly....well...there are few words that can really describe how good it tasted in my mouth. A wonderful meal for any winter's night.
Recipe: Cassoulet
Our January 2011 Challenge comes from Jenni of The Gingered Whisk and Lisa from Parsley, Sage, Desserts and Line Drives. They have challenged the Daring Cooks to learn how to make a confit and use it within the traditional French dish of Cassoulet. They have chosen a traditional recipe from Anthony Bourdain and Michael Ruhlman.
©BURP! Where Food Happens
Want more? Read Lo's latest ruminations at FOODCrush, her Milwaukee Magazine blog.
Labels:
bacon,
cassoulet,
Daring Cooks,
meat,
pork belly,
poultry
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
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.
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.
Labels:
Bolzano Artisan Meats,
cracklings,
local eating,
meat,
Milwaukee,
pork,
pork belly,
recipe,
Thanksgiving
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
Using and Preserving Summer Herbs: Rosemary Comes to Dinner
I've been friends with Rosemary for a long time now. When we first met, she was dry, and her disposition sharp. When we talked, I always seemed to get her caught in my teeth. And I couldn't seem to appreciate her harshness.
However, as the years wore on, I found that there were many sides to Rosemary. If I caught her in the morning, fresh from the garden, her smell was intoxicating -- a bit like fresh pine boughs, and filled with the earth. But, if left alone for too long, she grew parched and brittle, and her perfume would start to smell astringent.
Her marriage to garlic is almost too good to be true. But, it's taken many years of practice. When they first met, they both tried to hog the spotlight. Inevitably, one of them ended up wounded or broken. But, over the years the two lovers have learned to move together in perfect harmony. And everyone is happier -- including the neighbors.
Although she turns some people off with her assertiveness, I'm Rosemary's biggest fan. You always know where you stand when you're with her. And there's no hiding behind false pretenses. She puts herself right out there in front, and you can't help but notice her. And I'll be honest, that's a big part of her appeal.
I had her over for dinner the other night. At first, we were uncertain about what to make. So, we took a trip to the supermarket. Rosemary pointed to the tender young Strauss free-raised veal shanks and smiled. I knew then that we were in for something special.
She took me by the arm and led me back into the kitchen. And that's where the lessons began. I learned to rely on the basics -- celery, onions, carrots, a splash of white wine, and very good chicken stock. But, she also taught me to think outside the box -- adding petitely diced guanciale, briny anchovy filets, last summer's dried Principe Borghese tomatoes, and (of course) a generous helping of garlic.
As the ingredients simmered, I was mesmerized by how the ingredients danced together -- playing off of one another's strengths, waxing and waning and gradually mellowing. And, as the components came together, they formed a symphony of flavors... of colors...
With Rosemary at the helm, I began to realize that it couldn't help but become a thing of beauty. So, I reliquished control. While Rosemary worked her magic, I pulled together a pot of risotto. Simple. Elegant. Embellished only by a grating of Carr Valley Gran Canaria -- an intensely nutty cheese that I figured would be the perfect match for Rosemary's intensity.
The dance took almost two hours to complete, but when we finished, I wasn't even tired. In fact, I felt invigorated. Delighted. Inspired. And as we finished, I couldn't help but savor those final bits of sauce -- deliciously unctuous and smooth, subtly herbal, and ... well, perfect.
Sometimes there's nothing like a new dinner with an old friend.
Osso Buco with Rosemary & Sundried Tomatoes
This guest post wraps up our Summer 2010 Herb Series: Using and Preserving Herbs. Thanks to everyone for making this series such a great success! And we wish you much luck making use of your bountiful harvest.

©BURP! Where Food Happens
However, as the years wore on, I found that there were many sides to Rosemary. If I caught her in the morning, fresh from the garden, her smell was intoxicating -- a bit like fresh pine boughs, and filled with the earth. But, if left alone for too long, she grew parched and brittle, and her perfume would start to smell astringent.
Her marriage to garlic is almost too good to be true. But, it's taken many years of practice. When they first met, they both tried to hog the spotlight. Inevitably, one of them ended up wounded or broken. But, over the years the two lovers have learned to move together in perfect harmony. And everyone is happier -- including the neighbors.
Although she turns some people off with her assertiveness, I'm Rosemary's biggest fan. You always know where you stand when you're with her. And there's no hiding behind false pretenses. She puts herself right out there in front, and you can't help but notice her. And I'll be honest, that's a big part of her appeal.
I had her over for dinner the other night. At first, we were uncertain about what to make. So, we took a trip to the supermarket. Rosemary pointed to the tender young Strauss free-raised veal shanks and smiled. I knew then that we were in for something special.
She took me by the arm and led me back into the kitchen. And that's where the lessons began. I learned to rely on the basics -- celery, onions, carrots, a splash of white wine, and very good chicken stock. But, she also taught me to think outside the box -- adding petitely diced guanciale, briny anchovy filets, last summer's dried Principe Borghese tomatoes, and (of course) a generous helping of garlic.
As the ingredients simmered, I was mesmerized by how the ingredients danced together -- playing off of one another's strengths, waxing and waning and gradually mellowing. And, as the components came together, they formed a symphony of flavors... of colors...
With Rosemary at the helm, I began to realize that it couldn't help but become a thing of beauty. So, I reliquished control. While Rosemary worked her magic, I pulled together a pot of risotto. Simple. Elegant. Embellished only by a grating of Carr Valley Gran Canaria -- an intensely nutty cheese that I figured would be the perfect match for Rosemary's intensity.
The dance took almost two hours to complete, but when we finished, I wasn't even tired. In fact, I felt invigorated. Delighted. Inspired. And as we finished, I couldn't help but savor those final bits of sauce -- deliciously unctuous and smooth, subtly herbal, and ... well, perfect.
Sometimes there's nothing like a new dinner with an old friend.
Osso Buco with Rosemary & Sundried Tomatoes
This guest post wraps up our Summer 2010 Herb Series: Using and Preserving Herbs. Thanks to everyone for making this series such a great success! And we wish you much luck making use of your bountiful harvest.
©BURP! Where Food Happens
Labels:
2010 Herb Series,
herbs,
meat,
osso bucco,
risotto,
rosemary,
sundried tomatoes,
veal
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
Wisconsin Cheese Goes Upscale: Our Cheese Dinner at Bacchus Milwaukee
Did you know that Wisconsin produces more cheese than all of Italy?
And that it takes nearly 10 pounds of milk (just over a gallon) to make 1 pound of cheese?
It's true. Wisconsin dairy farms produce more than 23 billion pounds of milk every year. That's about 14% of the country's total milk supply.As the nation's leading producer of cheese, Wisconsin has a long and productive history, which hearkens back to the mid-1800s.
We were fortunate to have been invited to a special tasting of some delicious Wisconsin cheeses at Bacchus restaurant in downtown Milwaukee. With an emphasis on fresh seafood, exquisite handmade pastas, and perfectly grilled meats, Bacchus serves up some of the best in high end dining in Milwaukee. They also happen to serve an amazing selection of Wisconsin Cheeses.
Among the cheeses we sampled were:
Dunbarton Blue, Roelli Cheese, Shullsburg, WI
And that it takes nearly 10 pounds of milk (just over a gallon) to make 1 pound of cheese?
It's true. Wisconsin dairy farms produce more than 23 billion pounds of milk every year. That's about 14% of the country's total milk supply.As the nation's leading producer of cheese, Wisconsin has a long and productive history, which hearkens back to the mid-1800s.
We were fortunate to have been invited to a special tasting of some delicious Wisconsin cheeses at Bacchus restaurant in downtown Milwaukee. With an emphasis on fresh seafood, exquisite handmade pastas, and perfectly grilled meats, Bacchus serves up some of the best in high end dining in Milwaukee. They also happen to serve an amazing selection of Wisconsin Cheeses.
Among the cheeses we sampled were:
Dunbarton Blue, Roelli Cheese, Shullsburg, WI
Four-Year Aged Cheddar, Widmer’s Cheese Cellars, Theresa, WI
Gran Canaria, Carr Valley Cheese, LaValle, WI
Marieke’s Raw Milk Gouda, Holland’s Family Cheese, Thorp, WI
Shaft Bleu Cheese, Emmi-Roth Käse, Monroe, WI
Pleasant Ridge Reserve, Uplands Cheese, Dodgeville, WI
Ahh, cheese...
Our cheese plate was served with fabulous acacia honey, imported from Germany, and a delicious fig preserves -- both of which were perfect when served with the creamy blue cheese.Pleasant Ridge Reserve, Uplands Cheese, Dodgeville, WI
Ahh, cheese...
As we noshed on each delicious variety of cheese, we chatted with one of the dinners hosts, Heather Porter Engwall of the Wisconsin Milk Marketing Board. She had plenty of great stories to share -- both about the history of Wisconsin cheeses, and about the phenomenal cheese-makers whose ingenuity has helped Wisconsin to become the overwhelming leader in artisan cheese. She pretty much has the coolest gig in the world.
One of our favorite cheeses, Bandaged Cheddar, hails from Bleu Mont Dairy, where Willi Lehner, a Swiss-American cheesemaker brings astounding creativity to the art of cheese.His modest farm operates solely on solar- and wind-power. His bandaged cheddar, which as the name suggests, is wrapped in bandages, then spritzed with a mixture of water and previous rinds before being aged on special spruce boards in an aging cave. The cheese is unlike many other cheddars you've probably tasted. The flavor is curiously gamey -- and yet it offers up plenty of welcome buttery nuttiness and a very clean finish.
In addition to our cheese plate, we were delighted to sample a selection of tapas, including a delicious toasted brioche with maple braised pork belly.
We sampled a delightful veal ravioli with spinach, toasted pine nuts, and buerre fondue.
A chilled corn soup was garnished with Maine lobster, creamy avocado, and sweet piquillo peppers.
There was also beet and watermelon salad with crisp proscuitto, arugula, Marcona almonds, and a delicious sampling of Hidden Springs goat cheese.
And we both delighted in a farm-fresh string bean salad featuring Salemville blue cheese, frisee, radishes, and toasted hazelnuts.
For dinner, I ordered the Strauss free-raised veal chop, which came with a baby potato salad dressed in a rustic mustard vinaigrette and served with veal jus.
Lo was delighted with her seared sea scallops, which were served on a bed of caramelized fennel and sauteed spinach, and dressed with a honey-red wine sauce and red grapes.
It's difficult enough to describe the incredible satiety one feels after imbibing in such a delicious array of food and drink, but we were also privileged to enjoy great conversation with a wide array of great people.
We had the incredible good fortune of being joined by a variety of other Milwaukee foodies -- including Mel from A Taste of Life, Stef and Katie from Haute Apple Pie, and the crew from Eating Milwaukee. We were able to chat briefly with Executive Chef, Adam Siegel, who spoke honestly about both the wonders and limitations of his efforts to source as many local foods as possible to accommodate his dinner guests at Bacchus.
Thank you, thank you to Adam Siegel, Chef de Cuisine Andrew Ruiz and all the others on staff at Bacchus who made our dinner truly memorable. And we send a very special thanks to everyone at the Wisconsin Milk Marketing Board who made this dinner possible. Heather and Megan -- it was great to meet you both! And we look forward to many more years of supporting (and eating) delicious Wisconsin cheese.
Full Disclosure: Although we received our meal and drinks free of charge, we were not paid to advertise for the Wisconsin Milk Marketing Board or any businesses mentioned in this article. All opinions expressed in this blog entry are our own and are reflective of our experience.

©BURP! Where Food Happens
One of our favorite cheeses, Bandaged Cheddar, hails from Bleu Mont Dairy, where Willi Lehner, a Swiss-American cheesemaker brings astounding creativity to the art of cheese.
In addition to our cheese plate, we were delighted to sample a selection of tapas, including a delicious toasted brioche with maple braised pork belly.
We sampled a delightful veal ravioli with spinach, toasted pine nuts, and buerre fondue.
A chilled corn soup was garnished with Maine lobster, creamy avocado, and sweet piquillo peppers.
There was also beet and watermelon salad with crisp proscuitto, arugula, Marcona almonds, and a delicious sampling of Hidden Springs goat cheese.
And we both delighted in a farm-fresh string bean salad featuring Salemville blue cheese, frisee, radishes, and toasted hazelnuts.
For dinner, I ordered the Strauss free-raised veal chop, which came with a baby potato salad dressed in a rustic mustard vinaigrette and served with veal jus.
Lo was delighted with her seared sea scallops, which were served on a bed of caramelized fennel and sauteed spinach, and dressed with a honey-red wine sauce and red grapes.
It's difficult enough to describe the incredible satiety one feels after imbibing in such a delicious array of food and drink, but we were also privileged to enjoy great conversation with a wide array of great people.
We had the incredible good fortune of being joined by a variety of other Milwaukee foodies -- including Mel from A Taste of Life, Stef and Katie from Haute Apple Pie, and the crew from Eating Milwaukee. We were able to chat briefly with Executive Chef, Adam Siegel, who spoke honestly about both the wonders and limitations of his efforts to source as many local foods as possible to accommodate his dinner guests at Bacchus.
Thank you, thank you to Adam Siegel, Chef de Cuisine Andrew Ruiz and all the others on staff at Bacchus who made our dinner truly memorable. And we send a very special thanks to everyone at the Wisconsin Milk Marketing Board who made this dinner possible. Heather and Megan -- it was great to meet you both! And we look forward to many more years of supporting (and eating) delicious Wisconsin cheese.
Full Disclosure: Although we received our meal and drinks free of charge, we were not paid to advertise for the Wisconsin Milk Marketing Board or any businesses mentioned in this article. All opinions expressed in this blog entry are our own and are reflective of our experience.
©BURP! Where Food Happens
Labels:
cheese,
field trip,
meat,
restaurants,
Wisconsin foodies
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
Daring Cooks June: Teriyaki Chicken Burgers with Pineapple & Macadamia Nut Butter
I'm also a big fan of the macadamia nut pie -- which I fell in love with in 1998 when a business associate mailed one to me as a Christmas gift. Since I'm a nice person, I immediately cracked open the package and shared the bounty with my colleagues -- but soon regretted the decision. Let's put it this way, the word "luscious" doesn't even begin to describe that deliciously salty sweet pie. In fact, I've been conspiring to make a pilgrimage to Hawaii to pay homage to the macadamia nut ever since.
It probably goes without saying that if someone challenged me to make something delicious with macadamia nuts, I'd be most likely to think of a sweet application for them. But, those Daring Cooks... they're sly. Margie of More Please (who also happens to be a local food blogger -- yay!!) and Natashya of Living in the Kitchen with Puppies chose to challenge all of the Daring Cooks to make their own nut butter from scratch, and then use the nut butter in a SAVORY recipe.
Hmm. I'll admit I had to think about this one for a moment.
It's not that I've never eaten a savory recipe made with nut butter. After all, there's nothing quite like a mole made with almond butter or an Asian noodle dish made with peanut sauce. But, I wanted to do something a little different. And less... well... expected.
So, I enlisted my usual compadre in crime, Peef, to help me think of a great savory application for nut butter. Our two brains ground around on the topic for quite some time (pun intended), and we finally decided on a plan.
The credit for the burger concept belongs to Peef, who is always coming up with new and wonderful ways to combine meat and bread. He may have been slightly inspired by the Barrie burger, which is served at a little local burger joint called AJ Bombers (if you're on twitter, you've probably heard of them). The Barrie burger consists of a cheeseburger topped with bacon and... peanut butter. Actually a fairly brilliant combination, master-minded by @KateBarrie, and enjoyed by many in the humble city of Milwaukee.
But, we're not complete copy-catters (though you might remain unconvinced if you look back in our archives at the Stendler breakfast burrito or the Buttafuoco tomato sandwich -- both Comet Cafe knock-offs). And I was pretty determined to do something wonderful with macadamia nut butter. So, we settled on that classic combination -- teriyaki chicken and pineapple. To take the challenge truly over the top, we also added a Daring Baker's challenge -- homemade brioche buns.
While the dough for the burger buns was rising, we put our heads together and came up with a nearly perfect marinade for the chicken. A bit of pineapple juice, some soy sauce, ginger, garlic, and a whisper of brown rice vinegar. Taste and... perfect.
We mixed the chicken with the pineapple mixture and put everything aside to marinate in the fridge. In the meantime, we took about a cup of roasted salted macadamia nuts (this seems to be the only way we can find them here in Wisconsin), and made our nut butter. We used about one cup of macadamia nuts, which produced approximately 1/2 cup of butter.
Thirty seconds in the food processor was all it took to create a creamy delicious butter. And, of course, the first thing we did was to stick our fingers into the bowl to get a sample. Smooth, creamy, nutty, slightly salty... dare I say buttery?
The thing about macadamia nut butter is that it's scarily addicting. In fact, the both of us stopped just short of simply taking out a couple of spoons and finishing up the batch right then and there. But, we refrained. And, as painful as it was, our burgers were far better for it.
We distracted ourselves by finishing up the brioche rolls. Gorgeous, aren't they? (seriously, you must try this recipe at least once... it was particularly perfect with these burgers)
We probably should have drained off more of the marinade, since the resulting ground meat was a little bit damp. But, we solved that problem by adding a few crushed saltine crackers to the mix. We formed the chicken into patties and put them on a plate in the refrigerator to give them a bit more time to firm up before we grilled them, along with a few slices of pineapple.
And then it was time to feast...
A homemade hamburger bun, a slathering of fresh macadamia nut butter, a perfectly grilled teriyaki burger, and a slice of grilled pineapple -- there's something for everyone on this burger. The freshly ground meat was tender, the burger was juicy, and the flavors were outstanding. A little bit of sweet, a little bit of salty... and all kinds of great synergy between the pineapple, red peppers, macadamia nuts, and soy sauce.
Seriously one of the best burgers we've had in a very long time. And totally worth every last bit of effort. Especially that 30 seconds we spent on the nut butter. *wink*
Light Brioche Buns
Teriyaki Chicken Burgers with Pineapple & Macadamia Nut Butter
The July 2010 Daring Cooks’ Challenge was hosted by Margie of More Please and Natashya of Living in the Kitchen with Puppies. They chose to challenge Daring Cooks to make their own nut butter from scratch, and use the nut butter in a recipe. Their sources include Better with Nut Butter by Cooking Light Magazine, Asian Noodles by Nina Simonds, and Food Network online.
And don't forget to check out other Daring Cooks' Challenges! Lots of creative folks out there whipping up nut butter.
©BURP! Where Food Happens
Labels:
brioche,
chicken,
Daring Cooks,
macadamia nuts,
meat,
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poultry,
sandwiches,
teriyaki
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