FEED ME

There are days when, despite my best efforts, I eat like a voracious billy goat. I didn’t wake up this morning planning to eat complex carbs only, but that’s what I did. I gulped down an espresso for breakfast, got super busy, and all of a sudden I looked up at the clock and it was noon. I was ravenous.

I had a grilled cheese sandwich. And some manicotti. Then a Diet Coke (I suppose that doesn’t really count?). A while later I ate (ok, more like inhaled) an olive roll. And a few minutes after that I had a bit of pastry and three French fries. And one more olive roll. By 5:00pm I was bloated and full but unsatisfied. The poor nutritional choices I made left me feeling wobbly and tired so I skipped yoga (did I tell you I’ve been doing crazy Bikram yoga about 4 times a week since January?!). That means that instead of burning 800 calories this evening, I stayed home and carb loaded some more (beer, Triscuit, pastry).

At 8:00pm I decided I still wanted more to eat and finally decided to cook some real food. It was the one nice thing I did for myself today. Did you do anything nice for yourself today?

PORK TENDERLOIN with APPLES & ONIONS

2 ounces pancetta, cut into ¼” cubes (or 3 slices bacon, chopped)
1 medium yellow onion, peeled and cut lengthwise into 6 wedges
1 teaspoon sugar
Salt and pepper
2 red apples (such as Gala or Fuji), peeled, cored, and cut into 6 wedges
1 tablespoon vegetable or olive oil
2 tablespoons butter
1 (1-lb.) pork tenderloin, cut in half crosswise
2 tablespoons orange marmalade (apricot jam, apple jelly, or maple syrup may act as substitutes)
1 tablespoon sherry vinegar

- Preheat oven to 450˚F.

- Cook pancetta (or bacon) in a large oven-safe skillet (a cast iron skillet is great for this recipe) over medium heat until golden and some of the fat has rendered (if using bacon, transfer it to a paper towel-lined plate and reserve), 4 to 6 minutes.

- Add oil and 1 tablespoon butter to the skillet and increase heat to medium-high. Sprinkle the onion wedges with the sugar, ½ teaspoon salt, and ¼ teaspoon pepper and cook until browned, about 5 minutes.

- Push the onions to the side of the skillet, add the apples, and cook until beginning to brown, about 3 minutes. Mix the apples and onions together and push to the side.

- Season pork with salt and pepper and place on empty side of skillet. Cook until browned on all sides, about 4 minutes. Distribute apple-onion mixture evenly around pork and top pork with marmalade. Transfer skillet to oven and cook until pork registers 160˚F on an instant read thermometer (145˚F if you like it pink), 8 to 10 minutes.

-Return skillet to stovetop. Transfer pork to cutting board and allow to rest 5 minutes. Meanwhile, stir remaining tablespoon butter and sherry vinegar into apple-onion mixture and adjust seasoning with salt and pepper (if using, add reserved bacon bits). Slice pork into ½” thick pieces and serve, topping with apple-onion sauce. Serve.

FINGER LICKIN' GOOD

This is a recipe that the illustrious Jean-Georges Vongerichten created for Food and Wine. We adapted it to canapé size at school and used shredded osso bucco instead of short ribs. It was served atop tostones and garnished with orange suprêmes and chives. Señor O tasted the leftovers and it was love at first bite.

JGV’s slick sauce is ridiculously easy to make and is highly adaptable - I use pork, because it's the white meat in this household, but I think it would be equally brilliant if used to shellack that other white meat: chicken. It's finger lickin' fantastic, natch. The sweet and tangy orange sûpremes made a comeback as a topping, but I replaced the aforementioned chives with cilantro and piled the whole thing onto freshly made corn tortillas to give it some Latin flair.

See below for the adapted recipe, and visit Food & Wine for the original.

3 lbs. pork loin
Kosher salt
1 C. ketchup
1 C. dry red wine, such as Syrah
1/3 C. red wine vinegar
1/2 C. unsulfured molasses
3 TBSP. dried onion flakes
2 TBSP. Asian fish sauce
1 TBSP. soy sauce
1 TBSP. garlic powder
3 TBSP. seeded and minced chipotle chile in adobo
1 tsp. Asian sesame oil
2 ½ quarts water

In a large bowl, mix the ketchup, wine, vinegar, molasses, onion flakes, fish sauce, soy sauce, garlic powder, chipotle, sesame oil and 1 tablespoon of salt. Whisk in the water.

Generously season the pork loin with salt + pepper. Heat on high a pot large enough to accommodate the pork loin and the three quarts of liquid that you’ll be adding.

Add about 2 tsps. vegetable oil to the heated pot and allow to heat through, about 30 seconds. Add the pork loin and sear, browning on both sides.

Degrease the pot and return browned loin. Add the sauce and bring to a boil. Reduce heat to low and allow the pork to simmer, covered, until tender (approximately 1 hour).

Once pork is cooked through, remove from the pot and when cool enough to handle, shred. Reserve, loosely covered with plastic wrap or foil.

Bring the sauce to a boil and allow to reduce about two-thirds (about 1 hour). Once thickened, return the shredded pork to the sauce and simmer an additional 30 minutes.

I know – it seems like a long time, but you can either start early or prepare a day in advance. It tastes just as good – and perhaps even better – a day later.

Canapé style.

Home style.

PERSONAL BAGGAGE

I’ve always puzzled over the name of this dish: pastel de maleta. Pastel, in Spanish, means pie, and maleta, in various Spanish-speaking countries means suitcase. So this preparation’s name translates very literally into suitcase pie. It sounds more like a Shel Silverstein poem than something you eat, but there you have it. Suitcase pie is a savory jelly roll, a butter and lard-based crust stuffed with minced pork, raisins, capers, and hardboiled eggs – a filling not-too distantly related to empanadas of various Latin American countries.

Curious about other meanings of maleta, I went to my trusty diccionario de la lengua española (the Spanish version of the OED) and among the definitions I found were: backpack (in Cuba), a hunchback (also in Cuba), not having a clear sense of what one is doing (in Argentina and Uruguay), a person’s back (in Peru), sickness, person who performs a certain task with ineptitude, an untalented bullfighter, an evil person (in Guatemala), to be in a foul mood (in Chile).

I think you’ll agree with me that none of these make any sense, so we’ll stick to the Nica nonsense and keep referring to it as suitcase pie. Here are my two cents about it: Maybe since it’s a neat little package people used to put it in their suitcases when they traveled.

Aside from wondering where its name originates, I wanted to make pastel de maleta because I haven’t eaten it in at least twenty years, but the memory of it lingers. I have some several-times-removed aunts that own a bakery in Granada, the town my family is from, called El Condor. It is from this well-respected institution that the pastel I remember is from. I lust after their recipe, but it’s one of those top-secret, classified ones, and I may never come to possess it.

I had to make do with this version, which although didn’t attain Condoresque perfection, yielded very satisfactory results.

PASTEL DE MALETA
Adapted and translated from 50 años en la cocina by Angélica de Vivas

*(Please note that I have translated this verbatim and therefore may sound funny. I added notes in parentheses where I found necessary).

Crust:

2 C. all-purpose flour
1 tsp. salt
2 tsp. granulated sugar
¼ C. butter (½ stick)
¼ C. lard
1 egg
Orange juice (to bind)

Combine and mix dry ingredients; incorporate the lard and butter, in the usual manner, till it’s divided into small particles; add the egg, mixing well; add orange juice as needed; extend dough on a floured surface, in a rectangular shape, ¼” – thick.*
(For those unused to “the usual manner”: whisk together the dry ingredients, then cut in cold butter and cold lard. You may use a pastry cutter or two knives for this purpose. Once the butter/flour/lard resembles small peas, add the egg and mix. Add the orange juice a teaspoon at a time to avoid over-moistening the dough. I would suggest rolling the dough into a ball, wrapping it plastic wrap, and allowing it to rest in the refrigerator about 30 minutes prior to rolling out).

Filling:

1 ½ lbs. pork butt
1 onion, in quarters
1 green bell pepper, in pieces
4 garlic cloves
salt + pepper
1/3 C. butter
1 large onion, minced
1 large red bell pepper, minced
3 eggs, hard-boiled and chopped
1/3 C. raisins
1/3 C. capers
2 TBSP. Worcestershire sauce
1 TBSP. granulated sugar
¼ tsp. freshly grated nutmeg
salt, pepper, and chile to taste (I used sriracha in place of “chile”)

Boil the pork butt together with the 5 following ingredients (onion, green bell pepper, garlic cloves, salt & pepper); when it becomes soft, remove it and process it; strain and reserve the broth.



Melt the butter and fry in it the minced onion, the red bell pepper and the pork, for 5 minutes; add the remaining ingredients and mix well; add a bit of the reserved broth, if it’s drying out on you.


Spread the filling over the extended dough and roll it up like a “brazo gitano” (she means a jelly roll – we call a jelly roll a “gypsy arm.” Whoever came up with that one had quite the macabre imagination). Fold the ends inwards and seal them with a little bit of water; place it on a baking sheet lined with parchment paper and varnish it (the roll) with 1 egg yolk beaten with 1 tsp. water; bake it at 350˚F, for about 1 hour.




It may be eaten hot, or at room temperature. (For 12 people).
(I suggest eating it at room temperature – it tastes so much better.)

AND THIS LITTLE PIGGY...

WARNING: The following post is rated “R” for graphic images of a slaughtered farm animal.

This Halloween we received an unexpected treat: a whole hog. No joke. The animal was wheeled into the kitchen on a cart – à la patient in ER - plopped on the table, and promptly cut up into pieces. It was strange, seeing that whole animal there…It looked plastic and lifeless – obviously lifeless, the thing was dead, but what I mean is it appeared as if it had never ever been a walking, snorting thing.

Anyhow, despite the photos you’ll see below, butchering was not a cruel, self-indulging experiment but a necessary learning experience. As a matter of fact, I wish we had something to cut up every day. I mean, haven’t you ever found yourself at the supermarket staring blankly at shrink-wrapped hunks of meat with names that are utterly meaningless and misleading? For instance, did you know that pork butt isn’t the pig’s rear at all but a portion of its shoulder? I bet you didn’t, but now you’ve been enlightened.

Enough small talk – you may proceed to the ghoulish gallery: