MITCH IN THE KITCHEN

braised short ribs with polenta

If there is anything that would ever motivate me to stop cooking meat, it would be laziness. Seems like every time John and I set aside a Sunday evening to make a big batch of something beefy (or porky or chickeny) I get annoyed by raw meat juices dripping everywhere, fat and connective tissue that need to be trimmed (still rather unskillfully), and even the smell of raw meat. What keeps me coming back to it, unsurprisingly, is how good stuff can taste when done right. Also, wine. As long as my other half persists in learning about wine, I will continue seeking out new dishes to go with his picks (and vice versa… I think we’ve found an important positive feedback loop in this relationship).

Freezing spring temperatures (?!) and a new Dutch oven (“new” as in unused since its arrival in June) were reasons enough to finally get around to making braised short ribs. It also helps that I have a better understanding of meat cookery, thanks to a hands-on food science class I’m taking (the most fun dietitians are required to have in their coursework). Well-exercised muscles are full of collagen, which makes them chewy and tough. But after a nice slow braise, the meat becomes tender and stays flavorful. The collagen is converted to gelatin (by hydrolysis, for you fans of chemistry) which disperses throughout the braising liquid. The Dutch oven (an enamel-covered cast iron pot with a lid) goes into the conventional oven, where constant, even heating is maintained more easily than on the stove.

I bookmarked a simple, straightforward recipe: short ribs are browned then simmered with mirepoix, red wine, and beef broth, then you drool and feel your stomach growl (scream?) while delightful aromas drift around your apartment. A few hours later, the tender meat and hearty sauce are ready to drape themselves over something starchy and absorbent, like creamy polenta or fluffy mashed potatoes. Something bright and crunchy (like the simple salad with vinaigrette in the recipe) is a nice contrast to the soft, mushy warmth of the other stuff. If time allows (or while you’re eating and thinking about leftovers), you can remove the ribs from the pot and reduce the sauce a bit.

Speaking of leftovers, shredded short ribs with their sauce + canned tomatoes + garlic + herbs = delicious ragu that can be mixed with pasta or spooned over more polenta.

marinated pan-fried pork chops

“This is very… continental. I bet you didn’t really eat stuff like this at home… a big piece of meat like this.”
- astute observation by John

He is correct. Without launching into a long essay on Western versus Eastern foodways and how they’ve informed my own eating patterns, let’s leave it at that.

These were also the best pork chops I’ve ever made, which isn’t saying much since I’ve turned several pork chops into dry, chewy, under/over-seasoned things in the past. Why? How? Pork chops come from pork loins (the equivalent of your back) or ribs or legs, and vary in tenderness depending on which part of the pig they are cut from. Center cut loin chops are the most tender. Several recipes call for brining the chops, which keeps them moist, tender, and flavorful during cooking but also takes like 24 hours. I opted for a (relatively) short salty, herbed marinade to semi-brine the chops. The vinegar in the marinade tenderizes the meat by breaking down some of the connective tissue. The reserved marinade can also be cooked down and thinned out with a little wine or stock to make a pan sauce after the meat is done cooking. So lesson learned: marinate and don’t overcook.

2 bone-in pork chops (about 6 to 8 oz each)
2 1/2 tablespoons apple cider vinegar
1/2 teaspoon honey
1 teaspoon kosher salt
a few grinds of fresh black pepper
herbs (I used dried rosemary and fresh thyme)
1 clove garlic, sliced

Combine everything except pork chops and garlic in a flat plate or dish (examples: a pie plate, a casserole pan, a plastic tupperware thingy) or a plastic zip-top bag that you are very certain will not rip or leak. Place pork chop in the dish (or plastic bag) and spoon some marinade over the top surface. Cover dish tightly and refrigerate. If you’re using a plastic bag, place the bag on a plate or something with the pork chops flat. After a few hours, flip the pork chops so the other side soaks in the marinade. Mix garlic into the marinade (you could also add the garlic at the beginning for a more pronounced garlic flavor). Marinate for a total of 6 to 8 hours.

Heat a saute pan with a thin layer of oil in it over medium heat. When pan is hot, place the pork chops in the pan, placing the prettier-looking side down. This will be what’s called the “presentation side” of your meat because it’ll get an attractive sear. Do not disturb the chops while they cook for a few minutes. When they are ready to flip (they should be a nice golden brown and should release easily from the pan… I could’ve gone browner on what you see in the photo), turn them over with tongs or a spatula (not a fork! piercing the meat will cause juices to flow out). Flip and cook the other side until the internal temperature reaches 160 degrees. Remove from pan and let rest for a few minutes before eating.

Make pan sauce by adding reserved marinade, stock, and/or wine to the pan, scraping up browned bits and letting sauce reduce. Spoon sauce over finished pork chops.

On the side, we had braised red cabbage with apples and onions, along with some mustard and parsley crushed potatoes. All washed down with a discount bottle of California pinot noir.

roast chicken for valentine’s day

Happy Valentine’s Day! And a special shout-out to my dad, who celebrates another year of growing older (and even wiser and funnier) today. I usually roll my eyes a little at all the pressure to be romantic and ridiculous money-spending that come with today but this year, the sunshine and cute stuff happening around me have warmed and melted my (cold, hard, blackened… ok fine, I am exaggerating) heart quite a bit. At the school where I volunteer, the chef I work with brought homemade heart-shaped brownies for the kitchen staff. One really sweet little kid dropped by with chocolate truffles for us. And during lunch, I heard a high school boy tell a gift-less friendgirl “Happy Valentine’s Day. It’s stupid that the popular girls get all the flower grams.” The head cook wished me a happy Valentine’s Day on my way out and instructed me to give my husband a huge wraparound hug and rock him back and forth. At my local CVS, I saw a couple deep-throat kissing while pushing a baby in a stroller, then I heard an elderly customer ask a pretty young cashier if she was doing anything tonight. All this happened before the clock struck noon.

Aside from thinking I’m too cool for cheeseball rituals and sentimental anything (and then giving into all the warm and fuzzy), Vday for me is about having a nice dinner at home with John, away from the crowds. This year (one day early) we roasted a chicken and popped open a yummy bottle of California chardonnay. On the side: herbed potato hash with carrots and Brussels sprouts. For dessert: treats from Bespoke Chocolates (my favorites: pretzel-covered sea-salted caramels and strawberry balsamic).

spaghetti + meatballs

Let me start by saying that this Sunday supper took forever to prepare and should not be attempted unless you have time and patience (and a lot of wine). The most recent issue of Cook’s Illustrated points out that meatballs are a lot of work, so you should make a whole bunch all at once. Their recipe swaps out veal for gelatin and prosciutto, and milk-soaked bread for panko (flaky Japanese breadcrumbs) and buttermilk. We roughly halved the recipe. Instead of baking the meatballs, I insisted on frying them in batches in a pan and making a simple tomato sauce in that same pan. During a moment of good judgment, I ditched the original plan to make the pasta ourselves and pulled out a package of some fancy dry spaghetti we’d been gifted awhile back. We went back and forth between the living room (homework and televised sports) and the kitchen (frying meat, simmering sauce) to divvy up all the steps. Several dropped meatballs, sauce splatters, and glasses of wine later, we sat down to (wolfed down) a satisfying meal that tucked us quietly into bed. Even better, we have two batches’ worth of leftovers that will probably come out of the freezer during study-freak finals season or in November if we completely mess up Thanksgiving dinner.