What Do You Do With A Big Ass Carcass - Make Chipotle Turkey Pozole

That is one ginormous can of hominy!

Love, love, love turkey carcasses, chicken backs and necks. Get enough of them, it's time for soup!

My dearest Petal's family puts on a very boring spread for T Day. I long ago gave up any hope of bringing along some side dishes that don't suck, like those darling parsnip chive pancakes from a recipe I saw a few years back, or a really fabulous sweet potato dish with fresh ginger, garlic, green onions and a miso-based dressing that I make occasionally. Do that one at Thanksgiving and you'll always look at candied sweet potatoes with marshmallows in abject horror.

I once made a wild mushroom bread pudding to bring to their festivities and the whole family looked at me like I was a Martian about to probe them.

But I scored big time this year by carting home the carcass and basically any pieces of meat that were less than whitey white breast pieces. Dark meat tastes good!! Petal can't handle things that look like the animals they once were. When she does her Christmas Eve tamale parties, we make the run to Costco and pick up some dozen or so rotisserie chickens and me and one of the boys have to de-meat them for her. Her middle son volunteers a lot because he loves the skin. So do I, so it's a bit of a challenge to stay focused on work when the two of us are trying to devour more skin than the other.He's in culinary school now and I can't wait to see where that takes him. 

Serve with tortillas, or in this case I went with cornbread, just simple cornbread with the addition of a bit of chile powder.

Sorry about the cabbage, Colonel.

Mangia!

Chipotle Turkey Pozole

Courtesy of Simply Recipes, with some adaptations by me

2 Tbsp olive oil

1 large onion, chopped (about 2 cups)

1/4 cup to 1/2 cup minced chipotles in adobo (to taste)

3 large garlic cloves, minced

1 28-ounce can crushed or diced tomatoes (San Marzano!)

Salt
Pepper

4 to 5 cups leftover cooked turkey meat, shredded

1 large (108 ounce, 6 lb 12 oz, 3 kg) can white hominy, rinsed and drained

4 quarts of turkey stock or chicken stock (I use Better Than Bouillon for stock if I am too lazy to make it fresh, but for today, I made one from leftover carcass of turkey, onion, garlic, carrot and celery, peppercorns and salt and augmented with a few chicken backs, bring to boil and simmer for about 2 hours. I had leftover parsnips and fennel from the roast chicken night, threw those in also. Let stock cool, remove solids and allow it to sit for a bit to allow the fat to rise and be skimmed off. Pick off any remaining meat from the bones to add to the pozole)

3 bay leaves

2 Tbsp dried oregano (Mexican if available)

1/8 teaspoon ground cloves

1/4 teaspoon cinnamon

Toppings

1/2 head green cabbage, sliced thin

3 avocados, diced

1 bunch red radishes, sliced thin

8 ounces Cotija cheese, crumbled

1 large bunch cilantro, chopped (stems included)

1 red onion, chopped

4 limes, cut into wedges

Heat olive oil on medium high heat in a large (12 quart) stockpot. Add the chopped onion and cook until translucent, about 4 minutes. Add the garlic. Add the minced chipotles in adobo (start with 1/4 cup and add more later to desired heat). Cook for another 3 minutes.

Add the tomatoes and cooked turkey meat to the pot, stirring to combine. Add the rinsed and drained hominy. Add the stock. Taste and add salt (at least a tablespoon if you are using unsalted stock) to taste. Add the bay leaves, oregano, ground cloves, and cinnamon. Add more water if the soup is too thick with hominy for your preference. Bring to a simmer. Taste and add more salt, herbs, or chipotle to taste. You may need more salt than you expect, if you are using homemade, unsalted stock. Simmer for 45 minutes.

Set the table with toppings arranged in separate serving dishes. Spoon out the soup into bowls. Let people add the toppings they want to the soup.

Cornbread with Chile Powder

1 cup butter, melted

1/2 cup white sugar

1 cup all-purpose flour

1 cup yellow cornmeal

4 teaspoons baking powder

1 tbsp chile powder

1/4 teaspoon salt

Preheat oven to 300 degrees F (150 degrees C). Lightly grease a 9x13 inch baking dish.

In a large bowl, beat together butter and sugar. Beat in eggs one at a time. 

In a separate bowl, stir together flour, cornmeal, baking powder, chile powder and salt. Add flour mixture to corn mixture; stir until smooth. Pour batter into prepared pan.

Bake in preheated oven for 1 hour, until a toothpick inserted into center of the pan comes out clean.

We Love Us Some Lamby Lamb Shanks

You know you want it.

Remember Food God Mark Bittman's shanks article? Sinful meat on bone lambiness. Had some shanks. Time to cook. Smelled a little like pure unadulterated pleasure on a plate.

Colonel Mustard had never had this dish before, but loves lamb almost as much as La Torpille Rose does. Bah, ram ewe, to your flock be true!

By the way, The Colonel once rented a flock of sheep for his land. No, not the hair band of the 80s. An actual grazing flock. Along with a Guard Llama. Seems Llamas just do a better job of guarding sheep than dogs and require less care and attention. And have really bad attitudes. More on that...

Anywho, he explains that sheep are dumber than dirt. Actually, this may be an insult to dirt as he tells it. He watched with fascination one day as one banged its head into a fence, backed up and repeated. More than a few times. I have no trouble eating dumb animals. Sheep and chickens top the list.

Eat with some crusty bread. Meticulously pick out each and every bit of bone that has marrow in it. Inhale deeply. Dig it out. Look at its glossy nirvana-ish fattiness for a respectful minute or two. Spread on bread or just eat over the kitchen sink like a pregnant Mia Farrow in Rosemary's Baby scarfing down that raw liver. Or spread it on your lover's....well you get the idea. Marrow spoon optional.

Mangia!

http://chimangiabenevivechronicles.blogspot.com/2013/06/its-all-about-shanks.html

Slow Cooker Lamb Shanks with Soft Leek Polenta and Gremolata

 Lamb Shanks

1 yellow onion, diced

3 celery stalks, cut into 3/4” pieces

2 carrots, peeled and cut into ¾” pieces

3 garlic cloves, crushed

1 cup chicken stock

28 oz. can tomatoes (I use San Marzano, if you get whole instead of crushed, enjoy the sensation of crushing them between your pristinely clean fingers as you add them)

2 Tbs. tomato paste

2 tsp. finely chopped fresh rosemary (You want this finely chopped. Rosemary can be a bit like biting into a pine branch. Remember Euell Gibbons???)

1 bay leaf

3 lamb shanks, these should come pre-split by the producer between the larger meaty top portion and the lower ankle portion. Separate the two pieces on each shank. You may have to cut through some connective tissue.

Salt and freshly ground pepper, to taste

2 Tbs. olive oil

Directions:

Put the onion, celery, carrots, garlic, stock, tomatoes, tomato paste, rosemary and bay leaf in a slow cooker and stir to combine.

Season the lamb shanks with salt and pepper. In a large sauté pan over medium-high heat, warm the olive oil until nearly smoking. Add the shanks and brown on all sides, AGGRESSIVELY BROWN, about 6 to 8 minutes total. Transfer to the slow cooker along with the pan juices deglazed with a bit of wine.

Cover and cook on low for about 8 hours. Transfer the lamb shanks and as many carrot and celery pieces as you can to a large serving dish.

Remove the bay leaf from the cooking liquid. Transfer the cooking liquid to a sauce pan and bring to boil, and reduce to about half the volume, about 10 to 12 minutes. Give it a little mash with a potato masher or blend with a hand blender to break down any remaining onion, carrot and celery pieces. Pour some of the sauce over the shanks and pass the rest alongside.

Gremolata

2 lemons, zest removed, reserve lemons for another use, like Decaf Earl Grey tea in the AM

1/4 cup finely chopped fresh parsley (Parsley Snob Alert: have to go Italian. Can't do curly)

3 garlic cloves, finely chopped

Combine ingredients in a small bowl and mix well. Sprinkle over lamb 

Soft Polenta with Leeks, Garlic and Pecorino Romano

3 tablespoons butter

3 large leeks (white and pale green parts only), thinly sliced

2 1/4 cups (or more) water

2 cups canned chicken broth

1 bay leaf

1 cup polenta (If you all ain’t high-falutin’ city folk, go with regular yellow cornmeal, 1 cup, and cook leek-cornmeal mixture for about 15 minutes rather than 35 minutes.

1/3 cup freshly grated Pecorino Romano cheese

Melt 2 tablespoons butter in heavy large saucepan over medium heat. Add leeks; stir to coat. Cover and cook until leeks soften, stirring occasionally, about 10 minutes. Add 2 1/4 cups water, broth and bay leaf. Bring to boil. Gradually whisk in polenta. Reduce heat to medium-low and cook until mixture is thick and creamy, stirring often and thinning with more water if necessary, about 35 minutes.

Remove pan from heat. Discard bay leaf. Stir in remaining 1 tablespoon butter and cheese. Season polenta to taste with salt and pepper. Divide polenta among plates. Top with lamb.

Break Out The Crusty Bread And Get Ready To Finger Paint With Some Serious Schmaltz

Colonel Mustard and I were talking recently about the Wizard of Oz. How it must have been simply incredible that in 1939, after years of depression and sepia-toned existence, this full-colored masterpiece of escapism and sheer blissful fantasy burst onto the screen and into so many hearts. How about when we were kids you had to wait until the network decided to program Wiz. It was an Event, with a Capital E. You stayed home for it in a pre TiVo world.

Paula Poundstone says in a routine of hers that when Wiz first came out, the critics said it was dull and lacking in imagination. She ponders, what if it turns out that Rambo 3 is really good and they show it every Easter?

So, here's your Oz tie-in: Dorothy is really upset, more than upset about Almira Gulch's vendetta against poor little Toto. Auntie Em and Uncle Henry are desperately trying to save the baby chicks because they've lost power for the incubator. We feel badly for the baby chicks. Until they grow up to be delicious free range dinner entrees. Then we heat up the oven, push aromatics into them and around them, and joyfully eat them sitting on the sofa while singing along to When a man's an empty kettle, he should be on his mettle, and yet I'm torn apart. Just because I'm presuming that this chicken was me mooning when I cut it all apart.

Mangia!

I could tell you why, you will eat this while in bed
Thoughts of schmaltz inside your head

Skillet Roast Chicken with Fennel, Parsnips, and Scallions

December 2014 Bon Appetit

A beautifully browned bird and seasonal vegetables cook in a single skillet for an effortless dinner. Swap in carrots, quartered onions, or tiny potatoes—anything goes.

INGREDIENTS

3 tablespoons olive oil, divided

1 3½–4-lb. chicken

Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper

1 fennel bulb, sliced lengthwise ½” thick ( I went with 2, because…fennel)

2 large parsnips, peeled, sliced ½” thick on the diagonal

1 bunch scallions (I went with two bunches)

(I added one lemon cut into eights, to stuff in the cavity of the chicken…..heh, heh, heh, she said cavity)

3 wide strips lemon zest

Lemon wedges (for serving)

PREPARATION

Preheat oven to 425°. Heat 1 Tbsp. oil in a large ovenproof skillet over medium-high. Season chicken inside and out with salt and pepper, insert lemon wedges in cavity (heh, heh, heh) and cook, breast side down, until a beautiful golden brown. Use tongs to gently rotate chicken, being careful not to tear skin, and brown on all sides, 12–15 minutes total; transfer to a plate. Reserve skillet.

Toss fennel, parsnips, scallions, and lemon zest in skillet with remaining 2 Tbsp. oil; season with salt and pepper. Place chicken, breast side up, on top of vegetables. Roast until an instant-read thermometer inserted into the thickest part of chicken thigh registers 165°, 35–40 minutes. (You can also check doneness by cutting into thigh meat right at the joint. If the juices run clear, the bird is ready.) Transfer chicken to a cutting board and let rest at least 10 minutes before carving.

Serve chicken and vegetables with pan juices for spooning over and lemon wedge

They Loved Them Some Jello In The 50s

After my grandma passed, my folks and I cleared out her house in preparation for selling it. I came across a jello cookbook from the 60s. Hee-larious. And incredibly vile in some regards. Tuna in your lime jello, anyone?

Nostalgic Repost Of Repasts Past: The Jell-O Recipe That Mamie Eisenhower Used To Win The Cold War

by Wonkette Jr.

Nov 26 4:05 pm 2014

You'd never guess where Ike wants me to put this.

Here is your bit of “DC gossip” for the day: a Jell-O dessert recipe, for the holiday of Thanksgiving! It is Mamie Eisenhower’s famed Red Scare Thanksgiving Jell-o Dessert and it is best served chilled, to family members you hate. (There is Mamie right there with “friend” Lenora Hickok, feeding each other Jell-O and giggling knowingly.) This vile thing is exactly what the Eisenhowers used to force-feed the Soviets, and it is delicious.

Ingredients:

One (1) packet of sugar-free raspberry Jello

One (1) small-ish amount of water

One (1) handful of ice cubes

One (1) cup of Sprite Zero

One (1) packet of Cherry-Pomegranate Crystal Light

Fill a small-ish sauce pan thing with water. Ideally it should amount to around a cup or so, but sometimes even the best chefs have a difficult time finding where overreaching family members moved the measuring cups, so just whatever feels like a cup, that’s probably a cup.

Pour out the sugar-free raspberry Jello into a bowl. Make sure the bowl is big enough to hold at least two or so cups of liquid. This last point is crucial.

Stare at the water until it boils. Do not worry: it will boil, despite the epigram suggesting otherwise.

Pour the boiling water on top of the Jello in the bowl and stir it a few times so all the Jello particles whiz around in an even fashion and none are stuck to the bottom.

Pour like a half-cup of cold Sprite Zero into the mixture too.

So now grab a handful of ice cubes and place them in here too, as this will hasten the Jello along on its journey from liquid Jello to Jello Jello.

Add a dash, or more than a dash—no judgment!—of Cherry-Pomegranate Crystal Light. There are now several different flavors floating about, which is several minus one more than you would have in cases of unmodified sugar-free raspberry Jello.

Place in freezer. You heard me.

Check on the Jello by sticking your finger in it every 10 to 15 minutes.

When it resembles an ice-skating rink covered in blood (a hockey rink?), it is Time.

This is all it took, plus Ronald Reagan.

Read more at http://wonkette.com/535348/nostalgic-repost-of-repasts-past-the-jell-o-recipe-that-mamie-eisenhower-used-to-win-the-cold-war#FjmRE36cCQucFODF.99

San Benito House In Its Hey Day - Barley Pilaf with Pancetta, White Beans, Roasted Corn and Parsley

Colonel Mustard and I were talking recently, and I reminisced about a memorable side dish I had for dinner at the restaurant in the San Benito House in Half Moon Bay some 9 or 10 years ago. SBH unfortunately underwent a remodel since then where they changed all the differently-themed rooms and made them all into a contemporary Yuppie's Dream Of Retiring To Run A Bread and Breakfast motif. Pity. Before, you could book the Safari Room or the All American Room, but all of them had slightly different themes on Americana Country. Except the Safari Room, which was delightfully incongruous with the Americana overload theme of the other rooms.

The garden out back

Imagine a very tastefully done and rather boring Madonna Inn and you have the idea. The restaurant was amazing and had been profiled in Bon Appetit years back. It has the most beautiful wood deck and fire pit with wood planters of flowers and herbs, and a lovely little "backyard" garden with a gazebo. Weddings are still held there frequently. They were known especially for their breakfast breads, artichoke-laden bread, warm fruit muffins....yum! Cute little egg cups for the soft boiled eggs at breakfast!

The deck, where they served
artichoke bread! And other stuff!

I was at the end of a relationship, feeling quite sorry for myself and suddenly decided I should get away for the weekend and booked a flight, car and the SBH for two nights. The first night was the night of the Side Dish; the second was memorable because while out walking, I stumbled upon a Quincienera at the local high school auditorium. I watched from the door for a long time and some friendly caballeros invited me in. Fun!

The side dish was a barley pilaf, with tender, chewy barley, roasted corn, white beans, pancetta and parsley; the main dish was grilled salmon. I made it often over the years, winging it every time because although I wrote to BA to see if they would winkle the recipe out of SBH, it came to no avail.


I attempt here to recreate it as I am best able. Mangia!

Barley Pilaf with Pancetta,White Beans, Roasted Corn and Parsley

The deck's fire pit

1 cup whole pearled barley
4 cups chicken stock
2 tbsp olive oil
2 shallots, minced
1/4 pound pancetta chopped
2 ears corn
1 15 oz can small white beans
1 tbsp fresh thyme leaves, chopped
1 good handful chopped Italian parsley leaves (I don't bother avoiding the stalks. They have flavor too!)

Wash barley in cold water, rinsing it several times through a sieve until clear. Drain well. Bring stock to a boil, add barley, bring to boil again and turn heat down to low and simmer for about 30  minutes. Remove from heat and let sit for another 15 minutes or so.

While barley is cooking, heat stovetop grill pan over high heat until very hot. Spray with cooking oil lightly and grill corn, turning occasionally, until charred in some places. Remove from heat, allow to cool and cut off kernels.

Heat oil in a saute over medium heat, and add shallots, and saute until softened, about 5 minutes. Add pancetta and cook for another 10 or 15 minutes or so, to render out fat.and slightly crisp pancetta. Add beans, thyme and barley and saute for about 5 or 6 minutes until heated through. Stir in parsley and serve.

Thanksgiving Dishes From Around The Country

This is too big to post in its entirety, but please do check out the link.

Colonel Mustard and I were just talking about Mark Kurlansky, the amazing food historian and author of Salt and Cod. I mentioned Food of a Younger Land, Kurlansky's book about combing the WPA (that's New Deal basically) Writer's Project archives for projects that took writers to all parts of the country, to discover the way folks ate back before the national highway system, before chain restaurants and before frozen food.

I find this wildly evocative of the discoveries in Kurlansky's book. If you took many family T Day traditions, subtracted yucky things like green bean casserole with Campbell's soup and whatever those onion thingies are made out of and added a dash of locavore, you could envision yourself back in a simpler time for food.

The Colonel commented on how he can remember  how certain fruits and vegetables were truly seasonal. I can too! Don't ask the ages!

You didn't get them all year round. They were special. You had anticipation for something as simple as a tangerine. And how they tasted! Like sunshine radiating from the smiles of a couple in love. Like the spring in the step of a boy trying his Red Rider wagon on Christmas morning. Or something like that.

Check it out Colonel! First entry: sourdough dressing. Better accelerate that baking program! That salmon pie and slow-cooked red chile turkey are worth other posts. And pecan pie bites with gravy? Never thought of it but now...ah sweet mystery of life at last I found you! My Dad would have been all over Pocket Stuffing.

http://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2014/11/18/dining/thanksgiving-recipes-across-the-united-states.html

Here Is Your Lentil Soup Recipe, Because You Are A Hippie Who Loves Lentil Soup

Courtesy of the funky Mediterranean Market near me

From Wonkette's Recipe Hub. I love love love lentils. Red lentils are so very pretty but be advised that they will lose their rosy color and turn yellow during cooking. One of the easiest and most satisfying way to make lentils,or dal which in Indian cuisine refers to a dried pulse, lentils or beans, is a basic recipe from the amazing Madhur Jaffrey. You cook a cup of washed, picked over red lentils with 4 cups of water and 1/4 teaspoon of turmeric. Watch it at the bring to boil stage because it has a tendency to boil over and then you have foamy yellow turmeric gunk on your stove.

A chaunk or tarka is added at the end and there are many variations for this fried garnish. In Jaffrey's tarka for Tarka Massor Dal, it is thinly sliced scallions fried in ghee into which whole cumin seeds have been added. It's amazingly simple and so gloriously flavorful! Mangia!

Throw in a slice of bread and you've got a deal

by Fitzgerald Chesterfield

Nov 17 12:05 pm 2014

Wonkette

Sucka!

Today, we’re going way back to the book of Genesis to make a soup as old as time. This potage of lentils will nourish your body and leave a bitter taste in your mouth. The inspiration for the dish is the story of twin brothers Jacob and Esau, whose sibling rivalry lasted nearly their whole lives.

The twin sons of Rebekah and Isaac could not have been more different from each other. Esau was a hairy sumnabitch, and Jacob had smooth skin. Esau was an avid outdoorsman, while Jacob hung around the tent, studying. Jacob had vision and big plans, but Esau pretty much lived in the moment. Esau was born first by a few minutes, even though Jacob tried to pull him back into Rebekah’s womb by his ankle. In those days, the firstborn status made Esau the primary heir to their father’s fortunes. (Isaac had been such a successful businessman when living among the Philistines that the Philistine king told him to get out of town before they all got so jealous that they killed him and took all his stuff.)

The twins didn’t really get along, and their parents did not do much to help the brothers’ relationship. Rebekah preferred Jacob because he was such a sweetheart who always listened to his mother and told funny jokes and whatnot. Isaac preferred Esau because he brought home delicious wild game to eat. Jacob stewed over the fact that his redneck brother was going to get all the stuff when Isaac died, because he thought he could turn those flocks into real money if he had the chance.

So, one day Jacob was making a pot of soup when Esau returned from a few days of hunting in the bush. Esau was like, “Hey, that smells good, Bro. Think I could get a bowl?”

“Of course you can, in exchange for your birthright,” Jacob said.

“I’m fucking starving. What do I give a shit about a birthright? All I need are some tasty waves and a cool buzz is my kick-ass cloak of Nimrod, and I’ll be fine. Now give me a bowl of soup, you little pussy,” said Esau.

He enjoyed the soup, eating like a slob and getting it all in his beard and in his arm hair, which he had a lot of. Then, with his belly full, Esau began to regret the deal he had just made, and the seed of a decades-long grudge was planted. This is just one example of the rash decisions Esau made that disappointed his parents. Another was the time he married a Canaanite woman, instead of a nice Jewish girl. The moral of the story is that, in a leader, dishonest trickery and other minor moral transgressions are preferable to short-sighted decision making.

Coincidentally, Jacob’s first son was Reuben, so they were a real soup and sandwich type of family.

Esau’s Stew

1 onion, diced

1-2 carrots, diced

1-2 celery stalks, diced

1 potato, peeled and diced

8-12 cloves of garlic, minced

Some fresh parsley, finely chopped (only about 3-4 stems worth)

1 heaping cup of red lentils, rinsed and picked over

1 quart of chicken stock (substitute vegetable, and you’re looking at a vegan recipe)

1-2 bay leaves

1-2 lemons, halved

A large pinch/small handful of cumin seeds

Tabasco Sauce

Salt and pepper, as you go, to taste

Cut up all the vegetables.

Toast the cumin in a dry frying pan, then grind it up with your mortar and pestle.

In your favorite soup-making pot, saute the onion, carrots, and celery in olive oil for a few minutes.

Add half the garlic, half the parsley, and all the potatoes. Stir and let that cook for a few more minutes.

Stir in the lentils, bay leaves, and the stock. Bring it up to a boil, put the lid on, and turn it way down to low.

Cook until the lentils and potatoes are very soft, about a half-hour. Then throw in your remaining garlic and half of your lemons. Yes, just drop ‘em in.

Cook for an additional 10 minutes or so. Fish out the bay leaves.

Using a stick blender, or the frozen-drink-making kind, puree what’s still in the pot (yes, including those lemons). Be careful because this stuff is hot, and blending hot things is dangerous.

Juice your remaining lemons into the soup, add the cumin, and a few dashes of your homemade tabasco sauce.

Put a lemon wedge and some fresh parsley on each bowl of soup. Serve with some nice crusty bread. Keep the hot sauce handy.

It’s also delicious as a cold soup, and depending on the thickness of the batch, a very nice dip/spread

Ta Da!

for vegetables or bread.

This dish is very bitter. As you eat it, savor that bitterness, and think about the grudges you hold. Lentils are an excellent source of both insoluble and soluble fiber, so this soup may help you get some of those grudges out of your system.

If you don’t care for the bitterness, you could remove the lemons before you puree the soup. You could also just eat lemon sorbet for dinner because life is nothing but sweet treats and self-satisfaction.

Read more at http://wonkette.com/566782/here-is-your-lentil-soup-recipe-because-you-are-a-hippie-who-loves-lentil-soup#dApCoh5ptQJ176A4.99