Steak

What's your favorite steak? A T-bone, NY Strip, Porter House? Last night Q and I had some damn good steaks, but they weren't cow steaks. There was nothing bloody about them, no medium rare or well done bullshit to deal with. These steaks were, how do you say, made as if a cow were put into a drooling vegetable state. They were...(cue in the creepy organ to build anticipation)...Turnips.

Oh shit, no he didn't.

Yes sir, and ma'am, I did. I thought about a contemplative friend, one who's finding their place in our now abstracted food chain, and decided that steaks shouldn't just be meat nor should vegetables only be sides or muddled into stews, soups, or ambiguous blobs. Don't get me wrong. I love vegetable soups, chili, stewed greens, roasted medleys, and almost any vegetable concoction under the sun, but why no, pardon me, masculine vegetable main courses. No one ever says that Porter house looks cute. Shit, it's not cute, it's a hunk of awesome, kick ass, manly meat, even if that sounds gross. Honestly, why not make a nice sized veggie steak that feels like I'm eating a piece of protein.

Breakdown.

1 large turnip cut into thick slabs.

For 2 steaks, marinate with:

a good amount of olive oil

1 tbsp apple cider vinegar

pinch of salt

couple grinds of black pepper

1 tsp coriander

1 tsp each of rosemary & thyme (cue the Simon and Garfunkel)

1 tbsp horseradish mustard

couple dashes of worcestershire sauce

Let them all mingle with the steaks for a while.

Now, how would one prepare such a meaty steak...well, like a regular steak, except there's a little less to worry about. With these here turnip steaks, we're not going to get held up on whether or not they're bloody or medium rare or well done. All you're looking for is a nice golden brown on the outside, preferably with a bit of crispy texture like a crust, and the ability to sink a toothpick into it, but it shouldn't be too easy to sink it in. We don't want mush piles now, these are supposed to be steaks. Think about how sinking your teeth into a piece of meat feels, yea I chose to say it that way, and now think about that when you insert your toothpick into the presumably cooked through turnip.

So get a cast iron skillet with some oil, or butter, or both, and crank the heat up. Pat your turnip steaks dry and prepare to sear. Once the turnip hits the pan, don't move it around too much. You're looking for that nice golden-brown, which should take a few minutes per side.

While you're searing, crank the oven to 350˚-375˚. Flip the turnip, get the proper caramelization on the other side and toss it into the oven. Cook it for about 20-30 minutes or until it is of the texture you envisioned, yes...by using your toothpick.

There you have it. Turnip Steaks.

Pork Buns

Tonight...it's pork buns.

Get yourself a damn fine piece of fatty pork belly. Make sure it's of good quality as it is the star of this meal. You want that rich, porky taste, not some wet, flabby pork flavor that tends to be associated with average grocery store pork. Trust me on this, I didn't like pork when I was kid because it came from a shit hole. Did you like those breaded pork chops from childhood? The only good part of those was the overly seasoned bread crumb coating.

My belly came from the Meat Hook here in Williamsburg, Brooklyn. Look at the fatty glory of this belly.

I marinated it overnight in some rice vinegar, miso paste, ginger, soy sauce, Sriracha, brown sugar, and garlic. Remove the skin the next day, but whatever you do, do not, I repeat, DO NOT THROW IT AWAY! You could roast it at a super high temperature and make some crispy roasted pig skin, or braise it, or even dehydrate it and deep fry. Just don't toss it in the trash.

Preheat you oven to 450˚ and then throw your pork belly in a pan with a high wall, I used a dutch oven. Once your oven reaches 450˚, toss it in. Cook it at that temperature for 10-15 minutes.

Give the pork belly a quick basting with its own fat and turn the temperature down to 250˚. Now you must wait. How long? At least 2 hours, but up to 4 or so. Just make sure it doesn't burn.

While you've got your belly in the oven, make some white bread dough. I chose to use pork and duck fat in mine. Let the dough rise and pound it down. I'm not a baker so you may want to get some advise or guidance elsewhere on the whole dough making thingy. I can tell you that once it would be ready for making a loaf of bread, you should tear off some little pieces, roughly the size of a ping pong ball or a silver dollar, and roll them into balls. Let those pieces of dough rise under a towel or plastic wrap for a bit.

Once the balls of dough have risen again, roll them into ovals and grease them up. Fold 'em over and place them on an appropriately sized piece of parchment paper and steam away. Allow the buns to steam for roughly ten minutes.

Open up the buns, slather some Hoisin sauce, a slice of belly, pickled cucumbers, cilantro, scallions, and Sriracha. Enjoy!

Coppa

I just realized that I never shared my Coppa conclusions with y'all. Well here it is.

Spread some homemade mustard on some white bread and you've got yourself some pork lovin' lunch.

Rat-eh-2-E

It's been a while, but here's some Ratatouille I made back in late spring. 90% of the dish was sourced from within a quarter mile of our apartment in Red Hook.

I built a garden in my courtyard in the waning of winter and transplanted some germinating seeds when it was warm enough for those little weaklings. For this dish, I plucked several eggplants that were the size of a 12-year-old boy's you know what. They were firm, but oh so sweet with a bitterness that just hits the back of the tongue.

The eggplants were sliced into quarter-half inch rounds and then quartered.

The same was done for this beautiful squash grown by Added Value here in Red Hook.

Into a pan with some hot, but not too hot, olive oil, garlic and onion. It's important to get these guys going early on in the process, as they need a bit more time to get tender.

Once the squash and the eggplant have had a few minutes in the pan, toss in some chopped capers and anchovy along with a bit of tomato paste. As much as you may think you hate these fuzzy little fish filets, you don't. In my mind, they are the key to some real complexities and depth found in many great tomato sauces. Don't question the fish, just throw 'em in there.

Radishes and peppers are at the door... let 'em in.

In the case of this Ratatouille, the guests at hand are homegrown watermelon radishes, Jalapenos gone red (in other words they just sat on the vine longer and ripened a bit more), and some of these weird hot peppers my friend gave me.

These peppers are half purple, half white/yellow/green, and only an inch long. On top of that, some are fiery hot while others are sweet and mellow.

Just give all the peppers a good mince and toss them in the mix.

Dealing with watermelon radishes is a bit different in that I didn't just chop the daylights out of them. Radishes, aside from being delicious, are pretty damn sexy, but these watermelon radishes are on a whole different level of visual stimulation. Just look for yourself.

That's why I didn't chop them. Instead, I opted for a clean slice to show off their beauty. Into the pan they go.

Thanks again to Added Value for providing this dish with the sweetest heirloom plum tomatoes. These tomatoes are best for cooking or canning, not eating raw like I did with the rest of the tomatoes I received from my CSA this year. This Ratatouille was the perfect vehicle for these little guys.

Chop the tomatoes and layer them in the pan. All of their juices will heat up and coat the layers beneath. Ratatouille is like a savory, Italian, vegetable layer-cake and as for the final layers, add a couple handfuls of sliced Cremini mushrooms and a good dose of fresh herbs (rosemary, mint, basil, oregano, chives)

Once all of your layers are stacked up, simply place a cover over that beast and let it cook away. Once you think everything is cooked to your liking of tenderness, give it all a big stir and let it cook for just a few minutes more and....presto..... Ratatouille.

Egg, Kale & Mustard Greens with Bacon Lardons & Arugula Flowers

Kale and Mustard Greens, that's the name of the game. Grab yourself an sharp knife...the bigger the better. Bunch the greens into a dense pile and start slicing. I cut them into thing strips, but do whatever the hell you want, I don't have to eat what your mistakes.

Toss the chopped/sliced greens into a large bowl. Now it's time to make it rain...olive oil that is. Drizzle the greens with some good olive oil, toss on a little bit of sea salt and black pepper, maybe a little minced garlic. Go nuts. I think i put some red pepper flakes in there, but thats because I'm crazy. All that nuclear drinking water as kid.

Get a huge saute pan or wok or pot and a big wooden spoon. Drop in the greens and start cooking. How long should you cook them...you figure it out. I'm not one of those people who wants to eat soggy mush that once was a vegetable. I like my greens to still have a bit of bite to them. Pick off a couple of pieces while you cook it and stop when you see fit.

Radish time.

There are several ways you could tackle this.

a) simply slice and throw them in at the end.

b) eat them immediately.

c) cook in butter

d) saute with greens

I chose to slice them thin and saute them in butter. Radishes and butter go hand and hand.

Now it's time for the bacon. Take a slap of it and cut off a 1/4 to a 1/2 inch thick slice. Now cube it. There you have it...bacon lardons.

It's a thing of beauty, but quit drooling over it and throw it on some cast iron.

Once you've successfully cooked your lardons, sauteed the kale, mustard greens & radishes, and poached an egg, you have my permission to throw it all together on a plate. Seeing as my arugula had sprouted some flowers, I decided to pick a few and throw 'em on top. They taste pretty radical. Like a spicier, floral (duh) arugula and they look cool.

Behold!

Kale From Red Hook

Kale!

It's good and it's even better when you fry it!

After you saute the leafy part of the kale, and you notice that you still have those hard stalks sitting on your counter that you forgot to throw away...DON'T!

Take those stalks and cut 'em down to a few inches long. Into a bowl goes some buttermilk, salt, pepper, and smoked paprika. Throw the stalks in. Toss them around for a minute and let them sit.

Now mix some flower with some salt and pepper and smoked paprika. Take each Kale stalk and coat them in the flower mixture. Once that's done, let them sit for a minute or two or until a pot of oil is ready for frying. Yea you heard me...FRYING. These little puppies are gonna be Buttermilk-Fried-Kale Stems. I know, I know...I'm a genius. I've turned your would-be compost into gold. You're welcome.

That's the fried stems paired with a jalapeno-cheddar-biscuit (thanks Quinn), toasted fennel and garlic sausage (thanks butchers), sauteed kale (RHCSA), and pasta salad (thanks Quinn's Mom).

Whiskey, Pork & CSA

It's been a while, but we haven't slowed down. We've been baking, curing meats, grilling and then some, but now we are blessed with a CSA share from a not so distant farm located in the outskirts of....what....Brooklyn. Yes sir. Our farm share comes from a farm only a few blocks away from our little place in Red Hook. It's the Red Hook Community Farm.

Our first meal was a great one and it went a little something like this...

Pork Steaks (cross section of a shoulder), kudos to the butchers over at the Meat Hook, smothered in a serious Garlic Scape marinade. The garlic scapes came straight from the farm and were all squirly.

I gave those wiry stalks a quick chop, added some olive oil, salt, pepper, honey, and Jameson, bitches.

The whiskey baby. Just add a shot or two. Trust me it's good. Pigs are alcoholics anyway, didn't anyone ever tell you that, so why not give them some whiskey in death?

Now put it in a blender or a food processor or a mortar and pestle and beat the shit out of it.

Once you've blended it to smithereens, smother those pig parts in the green slime and let it sit for a few hours or overnight.

Doesn't that look good? Almost like it's covered in nuclear snot. Yummy.

So you've let it sit in the slime for a while now, huh? Fire up that grill to high, or get a blazing charcoal hell-fire going and slap those pig puppies on. Don't worry, you won't burn them. They'll cook up in only a few minutes per side.

Let 'em rest for a minute or two and then go to town...thank me later.