Easy Pea Soup

Do you ever get frozen peas that just aren't great? I got a huge bag of them from my little corner store.  Granted, they made no claim of being sweet or young or tender, but after the first serving of the big, starchy things I knew I wouldn't eat the next two pounds very fast.

Boston Snow Meter

...but you may have heard we've gotten a bit of snow here in Yankee Land (~6 feet total with more expected this weekend) and it's an excellent time to make soup.  JG has a deep affection for his mom's split pea soup with ham [which was only made with the bone from a big ham feast] and I happened to have a pork joint bone stashed in the freezer from a bone-in shoulder we slow cooked a while back.  I used it to make a simple pork stock, pulled out the bone and bay leaf, threw in the peas, and pureed it all together.  It was really, really good.

Stock after simmer

You could make this with a quart of store-bought stock, but you'd want to add a little powdered gelatin. Why?  Gelatin is gelling agent [guess where the word "gelling" comes from] that's derived from animal collagen, and bones/marrow release a lot of it to gives the stock more body.*  You can see it in the viscosity of the liquid in the picture above. That gelatin content is key to the texture of the soup.  As it happens, gelatin is most commonly made from pig skins and bones.**  How's that for an easy cheat?

Recipe: Frozen Pea Soup

Lean Mexican-Style Chorizo

The first time I cooked Mexican chorizo at home, I was horrified. I opened up the casing, the contents glugged into the hot pan and started bubbling away, and I thought -- since it was sausage and sausage is generally a fattier food -- that it was at least 30% oil or some weird fat that rendered instantaneously. All of the chorizo and egg tacos I'd consumed in my past suddenly seemed... unseemly.

I now know that Mexican chorizo has a substantial amount of vinegar in it, which both flavors it and acts as a bacteria-killing preservative. Unlike Spanish chorizo, which is smoke-cured and sold at room temperature for slicing and serving as-is; Mexican chorizo is sold uncooked, refrigerated, and must be pan-fried into little crumbles before joining a given dish. Any place you might add bacon, you can add chorizo -- eggs, cooked greens, soups, salads, beans, etc. -- and because it's so heavily seasoned with garlic and onion and chiles and vinegar, you can even substitute a lean meat combination without diminishing its fantastic flavor.

Here JG pan-fried it with left-over rice and stirred in an egg at the end for chorizo-fried rice. It was tasty.

Recipe: Lean Mexican-Style Chorizo

Huevos Motuleños for Breakfast or Dinner

JG and I eat a lot of beans and rice, and I often make extra rice to have on hand for leftovers-fried-rice. [We strongly believe that everything is better with fried egg.] This week, however, we somehow ended up with too many beans. I thought to myself, as I always do when putting away leftovers, "How would that taste with a fried egg on top?" And I realized that, of course, it would taste excellent because it would be huevos motuleños, or "eggs like the guys in Motul, (Yucatan) make 'em." And that's what we had for dinner the next night.

Cans of beans, jars of [homemade] salsa, and packages of corn tortillas are staples in my house. They're also cheap enough to buy that I'm going to suggest you go out and get them if you don't already have them and make huevos motuleños this weekend. They're a tasty midweek dinner and they're a killer weekend breakfast.


Recipe: Huevos Motuleños

Pesto Pipián

This recipe was born of an excess of cilantro. Like many people -- and despite growing up with lots of Mexican food -- I had an aversion to cilantro until I discovered late-night Vietnamese food in college. [Houston has the second largest and most diverse immigrant population after New York, did you know that?]

I now love cilantro, but really doesn't keep well and I got a _lot_ of it at an outdoor stall in Boston's "Haymarket," a place known for cheap produce with a very short (2nd?) shelf life. I used some cilantro for salsa and meant to put on some tacos but forgot, and the rest -- the vast majority-- sat unused and unloved, taking up valuable real estate in the refrigerator.

So, JG and I were discussing what to do with the excess cilantro over a dinner of homemade green-chile pork burgers* [on homemade buns, of course] that also happened to leave excess ground meat.

JG: "I wonder what cilantro pesto would taste like."
WGT: "We should find out."
JG: "Agreed."
WGT: "Ooh! You know what I think we should make for our leftover meat?"
JG: "Cilantro pesto?"
WGT: "Pipián! -- but pesto would be good too..."
Then we nodded at one another for an inappropriate length of time before finishing the burgers.

I should explain that pipián is a pumpkin seed [pepita] sauce loosely related --and sometimes identical-- to mole verde and can be made a million different ways. There's usually garlic/ cilantro/jalepeno/chicken stock and some combination of onion/almond/tomatillo/romaine/cornmeal/sour cream/cumin all pureed together and cooked in oil, but the only universal requirement is ground pumpkin seeds.

A pesto sauce, on the other hand, usually uses an herb, garlic, nuts, cheese, and olive oil. The ratios are a little different from a pipián sauce, but pipián's a pretty loose recipe, so why not use pesto ratios (to use up my cilantro) and replace both nuts and cheese with pumpkin seeds?

So...  I started to rethink my idea as I watched my bountiful greens shrank to tiny specks with half of the called-for oil... but I ostensibly had another 1/4 of oil to add.  A pesto uses roughly equal parts nuts/cheese to olive oil because it, unlike pipián, is not meant to be generously slathered on things; it clings with its oily goodness. I didn't want a coating; I wanted a meatball sauce. I opted to use water for the balance of the volume. It made a lovely green sauce the consistency of a sour cream dip(!). It took quite a bit more water put me in perfect meatball sauce territory [and those meatballs were very, very tasty*].

A few days later -- and hopelessly addicted -- I made more pesto pipián using canola [rapeseed] in lieu of olive oil. This time, without the assertive EVOO, the surprisingly delicate flavor of the cilantro brightened the earthy pepitas and it was even better. We tested it over chicken tacos, and that's was when JG and I agreed that this sauce may very well be my greatest culinary achievement to date.

Recipe: Pesto Pipián
I included recipes for tacos and meatballs below, but this sauce has lots of possibilities, like topping poached fish, seared scallops, or enchiladas, or roasted veggies... or the most amazing dip or crostini [topped with seared onions?] your friends ever had. I've now tried it with both pepper options, and I think I prefer the serrano for a little more bite, but to each his own.  If you only have a small chopper/food processor, just add the cilantro in batches; it shrinks quickly.

2 packed cups cilantro (1 large bunch), thicker stems removed
1/2 cup pepitas (shelled pumpkin seeds)
1/4 cup canola oil [or other neutral oil]
3 cloves garlic, roasted or nuked
1 green chile or serrano, roasted and seeded
1/2 tsp salt
1/4 tsp cumin
3/4 cup water or chicken stock 
Combine all ingredients except water in a food processor and puree until almost smooth, occasionally stopping the machine to scrape down the sides. ~3 minutes. Add water and pulse to combine. [It'll splash.] Store in a airtight container for up to 5 days, or freeze.

Chicken Tacos with Pesto Pipián:
serves 4

1/2 recipe pesto pipián
1 1/2 lbs chicken, cooked and shredded
1/2 onion, slice thin pole-to-pole
12 corn tortillas
1/4 cup crumbled fresh cheese [queso fresco, feta, etc.]
hot sauce

In a sauce pot, sear onions over high heat until just translucent with charred spots. Transfer to a small serving bowl. Using same pot (no need to wipe it out), heat sauce until it starts to sputter. Stir in cooked chicken and turn off heat. Serve on warm corn tortillas with onions, cheese, and hot sauce.

Basic Meatball Recipe with Pesto Pipián:
serves 4

1/2 recipe pesto pipián
2 lbs ground meat (any, really: pork, beef, lamb, or poultry)
1 pureed onion
1/3 cup milk
2 cloves garlic, minced to a paste
1/2 tsp salt

Beat everything together in a mixer until it gets almost pasty. Pan fry a tablespoon of the meat to test for seasoning, then let the remainder sit at least 30 minutes and up to 2 days before cooking(in a refrigerated, airtight container).
Cook meat over medium heat, turning to brown all sides, until cooked through, ~10 minutes. Transfer balls to a bowl, add 1/2 cup water to pan and scrape up all the browned bits to deglaze. Add pesto pipián stir to combine with deglazing water, and return meatballs to pan. Cook until sauce comes to the boil and thickens to its original state. It's excellent over brown rice or polenta.

*no pictures, sorry.

Whole Grain Burger Buns

...or dinner rolls.
I've been putting off my grand treatise on bread for a while now. Bread isn't hard to do once you get the hang of it -- little kids made bread back in the day -- but it can be a little daunting when things don't come out quite right and you don't know what you're doing wrong. [On the plus side, croutons are best made from dense-ish bread and dried bread crumbs don't care who their parents were.]

This is a good recipe to start off with and perfect for grilling weather... and since the highlight of the burger is usually the meat/bean patty/portabella inside and not the shape or texture of the bun surrounding it, many bread sins can be overlooked. The dough is slightly sweet and tender; usually the more ingredients, the more forgiving the dough is. Once you pare it down [flour water yeast and salt], everything you do matters a lot more... but that's another post.

As a bonus, forming the balls give you 8 (or 16) times more dough shaping practice than forming a single loaf.

This recipe looks rather long, but it contains a lot of troubleshooting asides. You may want to paste the text into an editor and cut out the info you don't need. I'll also try to troubleshoot in the comments section if you need help.
(This is a home-ground pork burger with fennel pollen. If anyone has their own meat grinder and wants the recipe, I'll happily supply it.)

Recipe: Whole Grain Burger Buns
You can omit the oat flour and increase either the whole-wheat or AP flour by 1/2 cup. You can use all AP flour. You can use all whole-wheat flour, but they won't rise quite as well. You can use whole milk and water in equal parts. You can use only water. Any changes will change the final texture and flavor a bit, but they'll all work as long as you keep the liquid:flour ratio the same. You can use "active dry" yeast, but you should add it to the liquids and wait 10 minutes or so for it to foam before adding the dry ingredients. You can also easily halve the recipe and whisk one egg up and divide it roughly in two, saving part for the egg wash.

Makes 8 good-sized buns or 16 dinner rolls
Takes 2.5 to 3 hours, mostly inactive.

1 cup [skim] milk
1/3 cup [olive] oil
2 eggs [divided use]
1/4 cup brown sugar
1 package "rapid-rise" or "highly active" dry yeast [~2 tsp]
1/2 cup oat flour
1 cup whole-wheat flour
1 1/4 to 1 3/4 cups AP flour
1 tsp salt

Additional flour for dusting
Sesame seeds for garnish

Combine milk, oil, 1 egg and sugar in a standing mixer bowl and stir briefly to break up the egg dissolve the sugar a bit. Add oat flour, wheat flour, and 1 1/4 cup AP flour, stirring after each addition until the flours are loosely incorporated (no dry patches remain, but it's a pretty shaggy mess). Cover with a pot lid or plastic wrap and let rest 17 minutes. [This is when the gluten forms, you can go over 17, but don't go under.]

Uncover and sprinkle salt over dough. Using the dough hook on the mixer, knead bread 7 minutes on the medium low [10-12 by hand on a floured surface]. After 4 minutes, the dough should be wrapped around the hook so that it only touches the bowl in the middle. If it's still sticking on the sides, add more AP flour a couple spoonfuls at a time -- knead ~30 seconds after each addition -- until it does. [Make a note of how much you used, though it can vary every time!] Recover dough with lid or plastic wrap and leave to rise in a warmish spot until doubled in size 45 -60 minutes.

Scrape dough onto a well floured countertop and pat into a rough circle of even height. Divide dough in quarters, then each quarter in half. Let them sit a minute so the top of the bread is just a tiny bit dry. To form the ball, pick it up and stretch the top, pulling it underneath on all sides and pinching it together at the bottom. Place each bun on a parchment-lined or lightly oiled cookie sheet.

If your ball tears along the top, you're pulling too hard. If you're super gentle with the next one and it still tears, your dough may be too dry. If it's too sticky to form and won't come off your fingers, your bread's too soft and you should dust it with a little extra flour. None of these things will ruin your bun; they'll just make them less pretty.



Dust the tops with additional flour then drape with plastic wrap near the oven but not directly in the path of its vent. Turn on the oven to 400F. The oven will be up to temp by the time the buns are fully risen, ~20-30 minutes.

Give your buns a poke. If they spring back or quickly fill in the indentation, they're not quite ready. If they completely deflate, they've over-risen. [All is not lost. Press them flat, give them another dusting of flour and pull them back into buns to rise again. They may be a little more dense. Compensate by making the best burger ever.]

Once your buns are ready, whisk the remaining egg with 1 Tbs water and brush over the tops with a pastry brush or smear on with your fingers. Sprinkle with sesame seeds.

Slide the cookie sheet into the oven and turn temp down to 350F. Bake until top develops a nice sheen ~25 minutes. Allow to cool 30 minutes before slicing.

Chicken Posole

It's chilly today. Tomorrow it'll be back in the 60s, but today was cold and wet... the perfect day for chicken soup, Austin-style. Posole [or pozole] is dried giant corn (hominy) but when people talk about "posole", they usually mean posole soup. The traditional preparation -- by way of the conquistadors -- is with pork and red chiles, but I've only ever eaten chicken posole, either made by a friend's mother or at my favorite breakfast place. After becoming obsessed with it a while back, I decided I needed to learn how to make it myself. It's stupidly easy and, I think, the best chicken soup ever. It's rich tasting but lean and pleasantly filling; the crunchy veggies, cilantro, and the squeeze of lime make for great flavor and textural contrasts. I've always wanted to try it truly from scratch using the giant dried kernels, but canned hominy is so convenient I've never actually bothered. Even you New Englanders will be able to find all the ingredients for this recipe...
Recipe: Chicken Posole, Pozole con Pollo
I usually throw in cut up chicken pieces and shred them, but you can also dice raw boneless skinless breasts and/or thighs and brown them with the onions. I've never tried it, but I'm sure it would work just as well to dump all the ingredients in the slow cooker on low when you get up the morning... the posole might break down too much, though. You could wait to add that at the end -- it's already soft; it just needs to warm through. I didn't have any cabbage on hand this time, so I shredded some purple baby bok choy from my garden. It was tasty, but I missed the cold crunch from the cabbage.

6-8 servings

2 tsp olive oil
~1 lb chicken (about half a chicken), cut up... or cubed boneless breasts or thighs
6 cups water
4 cups chicken stock
2 large white or yellow onions, diced
8 garlic cloves, minced
2 cans (~32 oz total) white or yellow hominy, drained and rinsed
1 Tbs dried oregano (preferably Mexican, Greek is fine)
2 bay leaves
1 tsp dried thyme
salt to taste (~2 tsp, depending on whether you use a salty stock)

Garnish Options:
lime wedges
shredded green cabbage
sliced radishes
chopped fresh cilantro
sliced avocado
a dash of Cholula or Tabasco

Heat oil in a large Dutch oven or heavy stockpot over medium-high heat. Add onions and chicken, stirring occasionally, until onions are soft and chicken is somewhat browned, ~10 minutes. Using tongs, blot chicken and onions with paper towel to absorb accumulated fat. Discard towel. Add garlic, stirring frequently until fragrant, ~1 minute, then add liquids, scraping bottom of the pan to loosen the browned bits (fond). Add salt and dried herbs. Bring to the boil, then reduce heat to simmer, covered, for 1- 1.5 hours or until chicken begins to fall apart, stirring occasionally. If the chicken is bone-in, remove to another bowl using a slotted spoon, allow to cool enough to handle, shred, and return to pot. Add drained posole, return to a simmer and check for seasoning before ladling into individual bowls. While soup is heating for the final time, prepare topping options in separate small dishes so everyone can garnish as they so choose.

Variations:
Use your post-holiday turkey carcass for pozole con pavo
Use 1 lb pork butt, cubed, in place of chicken and add 1 tbs of mild chili powder with the herbs for pozole con puerco Deglaze pan with 1/4 cup white wine before adding water/stock.

Use a whole chicken:
Break down a chicken into breasts, thighs and legs. Snap carcass into manageable pieces with kitchen scissors. Boil carcass, uncovered, in 8 cups of water for 1 hour or until it begins to break apart [or pressure cook with 4 cups of water for 20 minutes]. Skim fat and strain out solids. Either measure out remaining liquid and add enough water to equal the 10 cups total for the normal recipe [using about half of your meat] or increase liquid to 16 cups total and use all of your meat, doubling remaining ingredients. Add up to 2 more cups of water with the hominy if the soup isn't soup-y enough.