come quickly, September...

Well, it looks like I've managed to survive (most of) another Southern summer without melting and/or complaining incessantly. I think I was better than ever about resisting the urge to use the oven, dishwasher, and any other heat sources in the kitchen as freely as I do when temperatures are more moderate. That and a list of summer meal ideas (which I didn't actually consult much; merely making it was some sort of psychological boost) helped a lot. But having had a taste of cool mornings lately, I am more restless than ever to start using my oven for middle-of-the-day baking projects and slow-cooked meats; I have always intensely looked forward to fall for many reasons, and as I cook more the anticipation grows each year. Spring and summer certainly have their culinary delights, but for me, primarily a baker, the prospect of cooler weather leading up to the best of all holidays (Thanksgiving, closely followed of course by Christmas) is more tantalizing than anything.

I started making a top ten list in my head of the dishes I will be making as soon as it cools down. They are:

1. Pork vindaloo (from Best International Recipe; review here). My Indian repertoire currently consists of this stew and a delicious recipe for coconut milk-braised green beans, so I can't speak to authenticity or anything, but just as a stew it is fantastic.

2. Spiced carrot soup (adapted from Cafe Bouloud, as printed in CI's Restaurant Favorites at Home). I've rarely made a soup with such complex flavors--the finish with fresh carrot juice is brilliant--and the smell of the carrots braising in coconut milk and curry powder is out of this world. The original recipe calls for shrimp, and it does work well, but I often just make it plain and serve with a hearty, interesting salad and bread.

3. Spanish-style pork loin with sherry-raisin vinaigrette. This was a seriously good pork roast and I wrote about it here.

4. Chicken in a pot (much more elegantly known by its French name, poulet en cocotte). I tried this once last year out of BIR, and it was quite good, though it took much longer to finish than indicated and that always gets me flustered. It was still, as promised, a very low-fuss way of evenly cooking a whole chicken while keeping it moist, and it tasted very French and refined. And wintry.

5. Any big old cheesy pasta casserole that takes two hours to bake--any at all. Pastitsio in particular. (Another nice thing about cooler weather is that my motivation to exercise is ten times what it is in the summer, which is good because pastitsio will make even me feel compelled to schedule an extra few minutes into my next workout. And I am not a calorie-counter.)

6. Thai chicken soup (tom kha gai), also from BIR. The lemongrass, the coconut milk, the sweat-inducing spice from the chiles and curry paste...I could eat this stuff every day.

7. Sweet potatoes: baked, in soups, in pies, anything. There's a mashed sweet potatoes with vanilla recipe in Restaurant Favorites that I also need to try. Cream, vanilla, butter, and the best vegetable ever. How could that go wrong?

8. Chowder. Specifically corn (with generous amounts of bacon) and clam. I was fairly addicted to this clam chowder last year.

9. Simple, one-dish meat and potato meals you stick in the oven and forget about, like this one. That was a good recipe. Also, braised beef with polenta and crusty bread. Lucky you, the beef recipe is on Google Books here.

10. A hundred variations on grilled cheese and only one (the best) cream of tomato soup. CI's 30-minute tomato soup, to be exact. I've tried their standard (more time-consuming) soup, too, and I think it has nothing on the quick one. I must have made this soup 100 times last year and never got the slightest bit sick of it. Below is my adaptation of the recipe.


Cream of Tomato Soup
adapted from Cook's Illustrated, Best 30-Minute Recipe
3 (14.5 oz) cans diced tomatoes
3 c. Swanson low-sodium or homemade chicken broth, plus maybe a little more
2 bay leaves
2 Tbsp. butter
1 onion, minced
1 Tbsp. brown sugar
1 Tbsp. tomato paste
2 Tbsp. flour
1/3 c. heavy cream
2 tsp. dry sherry

1. Put the tomatoes one can at a time into a strainer set over a large bowl. Squeeze out as much juice as you can: ideally you'll get 2 cups after all the cans are strained. Add broth to equal 5 cups of liquid. Bring the broth /juice mixture with the bay leaves to a boil in a medium saucepan, then cover and keep warm.
2. Meanwhile, melt the butter in a large pot or Dutch oven over high heat. Add the drained tomatoes, onion, brown sugar, tomato paste, and 1/2 tsp. salt. Cook, stirring frequently, until the tomatoes look dry and are beginning to brown, 10-12 minutes. Stir in the flour and cook for 1 minute.
3. Slowly whisk or stir in the hot broth mixture. Bring to a simmer and cook for 5 minutes to blend flavors.
4. Remove the bay leaves, then puree the soup in batches in a blender. (With hot liquids it's best to remove the little plastic cap inside the lid, and cover the hole with a thickly folded dish towel under your hand.) Return pureed soup to the pot and stir in the cream and sherry. Bring it just to a simmer, then remove from heat, season with salt and cayenne pepper to taste, and serve. (Yield: 6 servings. If you want to make this a day or two ahead, don't add the cream and sherry until you reheat it before serving.)

Spanish pork roast and brown rice

Tonight I tried another method for pork roast, which I've come to regard with wariness and low expectations. With the exception of CI's maple-glazed pork loin, I have never been too impressed with the oven-roasted pork recipes I've found. This time I mixed two Epicurious recipes---the ingredients for one and the method for a another---and the results were fantastic. The recipe is below. I wasn't entirely sure about the raisins, but I knew dried fruit and pork was a traditional combination, and I'm here to tell you it works.

I also had another Cooking for Two (2011) success: I used the Spanish-style skillet brown rice recipe with chickpeas and saffron, except for the saffron, because vanilla beans are about the most expensive I'll go for spices. Oh, and the pimentón de la vera that I used for the pork was a real splurge. Like, $6 for a palm-sized tin. So you see how I think. Since I remember Daisy Martinez saying that the flavors are similar, I used a pinch of whole achiote seeds steeped in the broth (and then strained out) instead. I'm not really sure if it made a difference, but whatever. I forgot we were eating brown rice because the texture was very much like white, which means this will definitely be my go-to brown rice method from now on.

I forgot to take pictures and already sliced up the leftover pork for salad...oh well. It was a nice brick red color with all the paprika, but otherwise not much to look at. 

Spanish Pork Roast with Sherry-Raisin Vinaigrette
Pork:
1 (2 1/2) lb. boneless pork loin roast, tied if unevenly sized
2 tsp. sea salt
2 Tbsp. sweet smoked Spanish paprika (La Chinata brand is available at Alon's. It comes in sweet, bittersweet, and hot; either of the first two would work here.)
1 1/2 tsp. ground cumin
1 1/2 tsp. ground coriander
1 tsp. fresh coarse ground black pepper

Vinaigrette:
2 Tbsp. golden raisins
2 Tbsp. dry sherry
2 1/2 Tbsp. red wine vinegar
1/2 small shallot, minced
salt and pepper
1/4 c. extra-virgin olive oil
2 Tbsp. minced fresh parsley

1. Pat the pork dry with paper towels and tie down its length with butcher's twine if necessary. Stir together salt, smoked paprika, cumin, coriander, and pepper and rub generously over surface of the pork. Cover with plastic wrap and refrigerate 6-12 hours.

2. Preheat oven to 350. Bring the pork to room temperature, about 30 minutes if your kitchen is warm. Set pork on a wire rack set inside a baking sheet and roast until the center registers 140 degrees, about 1 hour 15 minutes. Remove from oven and let rest, loosely covered with foil, til temperature rises to 150 degrees, about 10 minutes.

3. While pork cooks, make vinaigrette: soak raisins in the sherry for 30 minutes. Add vinegar, shallots, and salt and pepper to taste. Slowly whisk in oil. Add parsley just before serving.

4. Slice rested pork thinly and plate with a generous drizzle of the vinaigrette. Serves about 6.

Pork vindaloo: funny name, serious stew*

*(with apologies to Schlotzsky's.)

This week I cooked Indian food for the first time ever. I've shied away from it up til now, because truth be told I haven't really ever eaten Indian food. I don't think the Amy's frozen meals my erstwhile vegetarian sister (coincidentally also named Amy) introduced us to should count. I was going to go Chinese with the Boston butt I bought, but I didn't plan so well and ended up having to go with this pantry-friendly recipe I had copied out of CI's Best Meat Recipe a few months ago.

Completely new to me, pork vindaloo is a moderately spicy Indian pork stew with some sort of Portugese ancestry as well. I was missing two spices called for by this recipe, cardamom and mustard seeds, but between the cumin, cayenne, and tremendous amount of aromatics (3 onions and 8 garlic cloves) I figured I'd be okay with those omissions. (To any Indian cooks reading, don't make fun of me, but I stirred in a little Dijon in a half-hearted attempt to make up for the mustard seeds. I can't help it, I'm increasingly of the persuasion that Dijon makes everything better. Strange indeed from someone who thought it tasted like pungent old shoes that made your nose hurt up til a couple years ago.)

I made the stew in the morning, as it takes about half an hour of stovetop cooking, then 2 hours (with no stirring or shifting or checking!) in a 300 degree oven. The no stirring etc. part is rare for CI recipes, so I was elated to see that for once I could forget about the kitchen and get on with other things during those two hours. I reheated it for dinner and served it over a rice pilaf with shallot and a touch of cinnamon, and this green bean dish (which is easily decreased by a third to make just enough for two side servings). Everything was delicious. The stew I definitely want to try again with the mustard seeds, as I think they'd add some necessary heat. Flavor-wise even with my omissions (and amateur addition) it was very good. I also don't know why I don't make rice pilaf more often: it's about 2% more difficult than throwing rice directly into boiling water, and so much tastier. The green beans---wow. I really wasn't sure how such a Southern staple vegetable would taste in the coconut milk and spices, but it worked, majorly. I'd call this first foray into Indian cooking (whether or not it may be judged authentic) a success.