Crabby goodness

Maryland blue crabs, steamed with olive oil, garlic, hot pepper, parsley, white wine.   A much longed-for summertime treat. 

The crabs' watery graveyard.

A dozen-and-a-half feisty crabs were dispatched in a sinkful of hot water. They're gone after about a minute.  Doesn't take long. 

Cleaning the crabs.  

Top shells were pulled off, and the undesirable bits of gut pulled out, and the carcasses brushed under cold running water. I'm not one to start picking guts out of the crabs at the table, though I'm sure some would argue that they bring added flavor.  Let them argue. 

 A cleaned crab, ready for the pot.
The rubber gloves help -- lots of pinchy points on these critters. 

Crabs in their garlicky, winy steambath

A very large pot (this one is the bottom of a big clam steamer) was filmed with olive oil,
half the crabs added, which were then strewn liberally with garlic, chopped parsley,

hot pepper flakes, salt, black pepper, and a few more glugs of olive oil.  Repeat with the other half of the crabs.

Half a bottle of white wine (in this case, a pinot grigio from the Veneto), was added, the lid put on, and the crabs steamed over high heat. 

After about 5 minutes, the lot was stirred up, the lid put back on, and the crabs steamed for another 5 minutes.

 Finished crabs, ready for picking.

A pound of linguine were cooked, and the pot liquor, an elixir of olive oil, garlic, parsley, hot pepper, white wine, and crab juices, was poured over them.  

Grated pecorino was passed at the table.  (Shhh!  Don't tell the Italians.  They would not approve!)

Chewy Italian bread was served alongside.  An occasional slice may have accidentally fallen into the juices in the pasta bowl.  

We drank the remainder of the bottle of pinot grigio with our dinner.   

One of my Italian colleagues once told me, "Il pesce nuota tre volte -- primo, nell'acqua; secondo, nell'olio; terzo, nel vino."  Anche i granchi!

Well-picked and well-eaten. 

Summer jewel tones

Ruby

Quick raspberry refrigerator jam.

Topaz

Sweet white corn from the cob, slowly simmered in butter.

Emerald

A weekend's harvest of basil for pesto. 

Amethyst

 Blueberry pandowdy, fresh out of the oven, for the 4th of July BBQ.

Gold

Ripe freestone peaches, peeled, pitted, sliced, for jam.

Almost Kinda Sorta Mac-n-Cheese. Maybe.

This is mac-n-cheese, sort of, but just barely.  It’s more like high-end buttered noodles.  It’s creamy and rich without being cheesy.  It’s doable in about 10 minutes. 

You could easily pour the finished macaroni into a baking dish, sprinkle some buttered, herbed crumbs on top, bake it, and call it a gratin de pâtes facile, and impress the hell out of your friends at your next smart dinner party.

Whaddaya mean, you don't have smart dinner parties?

1 lb elbow macaroni
1 stick (4 oz, 8 Tbps) butter
4 oz cream cheese
1/2 cup grated pecorino or parmigiano cheese
Black pepper to taste

Cook elbow macaroni in generously salted water until just al dente.   Before draining, reserve a cup of the cooking water.

Put butter and cream cheese, both softened to room temperature (I have a “soften” setting on my microwave, and it comes in handy for this sort of application), in a mixing bowl.  Add cooked, drained pasta to the bowl and mix, melting the butter and cream cheese to coat the macaroni.  Add pasta cooking water as needed to create a creamy sauce. 

Add grated pecorino or romano and black pepper, and mix well. 

Serve immediately.

I'd show you a photo, but I neglected to take one....

Roast pork shoulder tutorial

I got this message from a friend of mine, stationed overseas.  It's been slightly edited for privacy.  

"...There right before [us] was a 13 pound frozen pork shoulder. [We] bought it immediately, remembering that you had cooked one for your blog and it looked wonderful. So now I am writing asking for more cooking advice beyond "open pan, 325, for about four hours." how did you spice it and how did you make the gravy? We'll send you photos of how ours turned out, giving you full credit if its good, and we probably won't say much to anybody if it isn't."

He was referring to my recent post in which I described a whole pork shoulder that I roasted.  

My reply:

That's a big piece of meat! 

First, does it have the skin (rind) on it?  If so, that's the best!  If the skin had been removed it probably has a fat cap, or layer of fat that was just under the skin. 

You'll see in the blog post that I have the roast inverted on my cutting board.  I cut small slits in the meat, and insert pieces of garlic with parsley leaves (or basil, or rosemary, or thyme, or a combination if you have them) in about ten places in the roast.

I then salt and pepper the roast liberally on all sides, situate it skin side UP in the roasting pan, and as you say, open pan, 325°F, for about 4 hours. 

After you have removed the roast from the oven, remove it to a platter, and pour off all but a couple tablespoons of the drippings.  (If it's easier, you can pour everything off, and re-measure the reserved fat back into the pan.)  Put the pan on the stove top, and add a couple tablespoons of flour to the fat in the pan, stir it around and start scraping up the brown bits in the pan.  Add a few cups of chicken stock (the canned variety is fine), and continue to scrape up the brown bits.  As it cooks, the gravy will thicken.  If the gravy becomes too thick, add more stock or even water, until you have a gravy of your desired thickness.  Check seasoning, and add salt and pepper to taste.  Pour the gravy into a serving bowl, and pass at the table. 

Another option for gravy (fussier, but it works well), is to make your gravy ahead in a separate pot on the stove top, using butter instead of pan drippings, and a homemade stock, made with pork bones and aromatic vegetables.  This is how a lot of people make their Thanksgiving gravy, albeit with turkey stock, instead of waiting for the turkey to come out of the oven.

If the skin was left on the roast, you can peel if off, crack it into pieces, and enjoy it with your meal. 

Dulce de leche in a can

I first came across this back in my college days, when my roommate Peter, an American who lived in Brazil, made this according to his Brazilian mother's recipe.

He took small cans of sweetened condensed milk, placed them in a pot, covered them in water, and simmered them over low heat on a hotplate for several hours in our dormitory room.  When opened, the cans contained a caramel-colored cream, dulce de leche.  (As his reference point was Brazilian, I don't recall him using that term, a Spanish phrase, but that's what it was.)

Dulce de leche has become the flavor "It Girl," and can be found everywhere, it seems -- yogurt, ice cream, cookies, cocktails.

I ran out of half-and-half last week, and popped open a can of Borden's Eagle Brand Sweetened Condensed Milk for my coffee. Eh, it was ok (cafe con leche!), but I'm not fond of that "cooked" milk flavor that SCM and its cousin, evaporated milk, impart to coffee.

So, I covered up the can, and popped it back into the fridge.

I'm frugal by nature, so rather than throw the stuff away, I decided to try to make some dulce de leche.  The can was already open, so I covered it tightly with some aluminum foil, then set it into my 12-qt pasta pot, with the strainer insert.  Added water to the pot, brought it to a simmer, lowered the heat, covered it, and let it steam for about 90 minutes.  When I came back, the water had fully evaporated.  I was a bit surprised by that, considering there were about 4 quarts of water in the pot, and it was on a very low flame.

I removed the foil-covered can with my jar lifter (same one I use for putting up jams), removed the foil, and eureka! there was dulce de leche.  Perfectly done. 

Doing it again, I'd be sure to check on the water level, but no harm, no foul this time around.

Once cooled, it's thick and caramel-y, and great spread between a couple crackers, or on toast.  If I only had some ice cream in the house, I'd try it on that....

Copycat Duncan Hines Boxed Cake Mix. [[Sigh.]]

This made my brain hurt.

Copycat Duncan Hines Boxed Cake Mix

According to the recipe: "This cake tastes like a boxed white cake mix only better, it has never failed me yet, it is a recipe that I use over and over again for the *perfect* white cake, and so easy to make too! really anything can be addded (sic) to this cake, tiny chocolate chips, nuts, dried fruit, add in some food colouring for a pastel coloured cake with matching frosting, this makes a wonderful birthday cake!--------- * NOTE* as one reviewer stated they omitted the salt, omitting the salt will change the texture of this cake completely, so please do *not* omit, using butter-flavor Crisco is acceptable but will alter the taste somewhat but not the texture ;-) "

Yes, dear, "like a boxed white cake mix, only better."

That's called a scratch cake.

Up next: copycat Cool Whip.  

Easter pies: sweet (ricotta)

It's tha-a-at time of year, when we eats lots of pie...

Apologies for that....but this time of year, Italians do eat lots of pie, both sweet and savory. 

After abstaining from meat, dairy, and eggs for the forty days of Lent (back when one did abstain from them for the forty days of Lent), one’s craving for meat and "i latticini" must have been immense.  It’s then easy to understand how a savory pie that contains pounds of meat and cheese bound together only with eggs came about.

This sweet cheese pie, in contrast, is even by today’s standards, pleasantly light and satisfying.  It is nothing at all like a New York-style cheesecake.  This pie is light, sweet, tender, moist, and has a very nice citrus background flavor.  I think you’ll like it.

This pie freezes well.

Crust for sweet pie (for 2 pies)
2 c  flour
1/2 c  sugar
1 tsp  baking powder
pinch  salt
1 c butter (2 sticks)
1  egg yolk
1/2 c  ice-cold water

Combine flour, sugar, baking powder, and salt.  Cut in margarine.  Add egg yolk.  Drizzle water into mixture until it holds together.  Refrigerate 15 - 30 minutes.  Roll out and line pie tins.

Filling for sweet pie
1 1/2 lb  ricotta
6  eggs
1 c  sugar
2 Tbp   cooked rice
2 tsp     vanilla
juice of ½ lemon
grated rind of 1 orange
pinch  nutmeg
cinnamon for top

Beat all ingredients until smooth.  Pour into pie crusts.  Dust top with cinnamon.  (You may also put a lattice top crust, if you desire).  Bake at 350°F until cheese is set and a knife comes out clean, about 35- 40 minutes.

Pasta e ceci

Simple, filling, nutritious, delicious.


A variation on pasta and beans (pasta e fagioli), and like pasta and beans, can be made wholly meatless for Lenten suppers.

2 medium onions, chopped fine
3 carrots, chopped fine
4 cloves garlic, chopped
1 tsp hot pepper flakes
1/4 c olive oil
4 strips bacon, chopped or 4 oz salt pork, skin removed, chopped fine (optional)
1 28-oz can tomatoes (I used the "chef's cut" or diced tomatoes.  Whole tomatoes lightly crushed work fine, too.  You can also use canned crushed tomatoes, but I find them a insufficiently chunky for my tastes.)
4-5 cups water (or optionally, chicken stock)
1 19-oz can chick peas ("ceci"), drained and rinsed
bay leaf
1/2 tsp dried thyme
salt & pepper to taste
1 cup ditalini pasta

In a 5- or 6-qt Dutch oven, heat the oil over medium high heat.  If you're using the bacon or salt pork, add it to the pot, and cook until lightly browned and partly rendered.

Add the onions, carrots, garlic, hot pepper flakes.  Saute about 5 minutes, until softened.

Add the chick peas, tomatoes, stock or water, bay leaf, thyme.

Bring to a simmer, lower heat, cover, and let simmer gently for about 30 minutes.  Taste for seasoning, and adjust accordingly.

Bring back to a robust simmer, add the pasta, stir, reduce heat to a low flame, and cook about 12 minutes until pasta is tender.  The soup will thicken considerably as the pasta cooks.  If you prefer it "soupier," add additional stock or water. 

Serve immediately, and pass grated pecorino cheese and hot pepper flakes at the table.  

Finding and keeping culinary traditions

I love this article from the New York Times. 

"'Ndunderi" are mentioned in the article.  I've never heard that word, but a quick online search shows them to be essentially gnocchi, though the common thread is that they're gnocchi made with ricotta.  Seems they're a specialty of Ravello, a lovely town atop a cliff on the Amalfi Coast. 

I'm frankly surprised I've not heard of "'ndunderi," as they come from the provincia di Salerno, which is where my family comes. 

Will have to do a bit of investigative work!

Everything that's wrong with American cooking, part 2.

This.

Tiramisù made with JELL-O® Instant Pudding and COOL WHIP®.

Everything that's wrong with American cooking, part 1.  

Gemelli with cauliflower, olives, anchovies

Pasta with cauliflower, olives, anchovies

I'm not aware this has a particular name (comparable to "puttanesca" or "carbonara"), but it's a family favorite, and easy to pull together in just a few minutes.  Omit the chicken stock and the anchovies, and it's completely vegan. 

Beyond the cauliflower, everything is a pantry item.  Dinner on the table within the half-hour.

You can easily substitute broccoli for the cauliflower.

1 head cauliflower, cut into florets

1/4 c olive oil

1 onion, sliced

4 cloves garlic, chopped

3-4 anchovy fillets

1 tsp hot pepper flakes

(salt) and pepper to taste

1/2 c pitted olives, chopped coarsely (like Sicilian oil-cured, or Kalamata, but green Spanish olives from a jar will do, too)

2 Tbp capers, drained

2 c chicken stock (or a combo of stock, wine, water, depending on what you have on hand)

2 tsp lemon zest

1 Tbp lemon juice (optional)

1/4 c chopped parsley

1 lb pasta, such as rigatoni, penne rigate, gemelli, rotini, or similar short pasta.

Heat the olive oil in a Dutch oven over medium flame.  Add sliced onion, garlic, anchovies, red pepper flakes, black pepper.  (You might need salt, but with the anchovies, unlikely.)  Sauté until the onions are tender, about 4 minutes.

In a separate pot, cook pasta until just barely al dente in amply salted water.  Set aside, reserving some of the pasta cooking water.

Add cauliflower to the onions, stir to coat in olive oil, then add stock.  Bring to a brisk simmer, stir, then cover, and reduce heat to low, allowing the cauliflower to steam until just tender, about 5 minutes. 

Uncover, add cooked pasta, olives, capers, lemon zest, parsley.  Mix well, and let simmer briefly until much of the stock has been absorbed by the pasta.  Add pasta cooking water as desired to ‘loosen’ the pasta as you see fit.  (Any hot liquid you add will certainly be absorbed by the pasta, so tread carefully not to oversaturate it.)  Drizzle with a bit more fresh olive oil at the end.  For an added kick, squeeze lemon juice over the pasta just before serving, if desired. 

Serve, passing grated pecorino cheese at the table. 

If you have any leftovers, definitely add the lemon juice, and serve cold or at room temperature as a pasta salad.  

Happy Pi(e) Day!

Pi Day -- March 14 (3/14) is today.  I'm celebrating by posting a photo of many of the pies I've known and loved.

Top row: blueberry, lemon meringue, peach/blueberry being assembled, peach/blueberry being eaten, cherry pandowdy.
Middle row: banana cream, shepherd's, Easter meat, lemon meringue, apple crumb.
Bottom row: whoopie (from Beiler's at Reading Terminal Market), chocolate chiffon, sweet potato, chicken pot, apple pandowdy.

With the exception of the whoopie pies, these are all of my own creation. 

Irish soda bread

I wrote about my travails with Irish soda bread a couple years ago, but never included a recipe.

I finally found a sturdy recipe in Saveur magazine that produced a robust loaf, but found it lacking in sweetness, and containing far too few raisins. 

This is my adapted recipe, sweeter, and with double the raisins.  I also used both baking powder and baking soda (and more than the original recipe) to give it a bit more leavened character.

There are soda breads out there that add caraway seeds to the loaf.  This is to be understood as an abomination.  

4 cups flour
3/4 cup sugar
1 tsp salt
1 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp baking soda
4 Tbp butter
2 cups raisins (I use a cup each of black and golden raisins)
1 egg, lightly beaten
2 cups buttermilk
        (N.B.  If you don't have buttermilk, use sweet milk that's been soured with a couple teaspoons of vinegar, or use sweet milk, omit the baking soda, and increase the baking powder to 2 tsp.)

1.    Preheat oven to 425°. Grease a cast iron, 10-inch skillet with baking spray.  Set aside.
2.    In a mixing bowl, work butter into flour until it resembles coarse meal, just as you would do for baking soda biscuits or scones.  Add sugar, salt, baking soda, baking powder, and raisins.  Mix well.
3.    Make a well in the center of the flour mixture. Beat egg in buttermilk, pour into the well, and mix with a wooden spoon until dough is too stiff to stir. Dust hands with a little flour, then gently knead dough in the bowl just long enough to form a rough ball. Transfer dough to a lightly floured surface and shape into a round loaf. 
4.    Transfer dough to the greased skillet. Using a serrated knife or kitchen scissors, score top of dough about 1/2'' deep in an "X" shape.
5.    Bake at 425°F for 15 minutes, then lower the temperature to 400°F and bake 20-25 minutes more, until bread is golden and bottom sounds hollow when tapped with a knife.
6.    Transfer bread to a rack to let cool.  

Serve bread warm, at room temperature, or sliced and toasted.

Store tightly wrapped in plastic film or foil.

I imagine you could halve this recipe, but why would you want to?

Guest blogger -- Adoom's Awesome Saucesome (Pumpkin) Bread Recipe

A very special guest blogger recipe, from Adoom Cusack, who makes the BEST pumpkin bread I've ever had.  Sweet, moist, full of raisins, appropriately spiced, but not overly so....just the best.

Pour yourself a cup of coffee and start nibbling....

This recipe works well for zucchini, pumpkin, or banana bread.

3 cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon of sea salt
1 teaspoon of baking powder
1 teaspoon of baking soda
3 teaspoons ground cinnamon
3 teaspoons of vanilla extract
1 teaspoon of all spice
1/2 teaspoon of ground clove
1 teaspoon of ground ginger
3 eggs
1 cup of vegetable oil
3 cups of brown sugar
2 cups choice of grated zucchini, pumpkin (canned) and banana
1 cup of chopped walnuts if you want
2 cups of raisins (a must!)
1/2 cup of milk
1/2 cup of either apple sauce, apple juice or apple cider
2 to 3 teaspoons of pumpkin spice extract (optional, for extra spicy kick)
2 to 3 teaspoons of gingerbread flavoring or molasses (optional)

1. Grease and flour two 8 x 4 inch pans. I use Pam and spray a good even coat. Preheat oven to 325°F.

2. There are methods to put ingredients in separate bowls and beat eggs etc., but the style I choose is to put all the ingredients in one large wide bowl. Starting with the flour, eggs, salt, sugar, oil and whatever you want the bread to be, followed by all other ingredients in no particular order.

3. Mix everything thoroughly until it becomes smooth with a dark brown color and the raisins or walnuts, if you choose to have them, are evenly spread in the bowl.

4. Bake between 40 to 60 minutes, or until tester inserted in the center comes out clean. Cool in pan on rack for 20 minutes. Remove bread from pan, and completely cool.

5. Enjoy!

Sausage gravy on biscuits

It's a gray, cold, snowy day, and I needed a reminder that Sunday brunch on the patio in the backyard isn't too far away.

Sausage gravy with homemade biscuits. I've done this recipe before, but add this variation:  if you're so inclined, or if you don't have sausage on hand, this works equally well with any kind of ground meat -- beef, turkey, pork.  I would be sure to saute half an onion or a shallot, and maybe add a crushed garlic clove before browning the meat, to add extra flavor to unseasoned ground meat (unlike sausage, which is fully seasoned, and often flavored, ground pork). I also really like adding Worcestershire and Tabasco to jazz up the flavor. 

And after you've finished the sausage gravy, you can always slather a biscuit with sweet butter and homemade peach jam.  Yes, you can.

The recipe I've been using for biscuits is from the New York Times (Melissa Clark).  It's a very good all-purpose recipe, though written in an annoying style, as the NYTimes seems convinced of late, that all its readers are cooking with metric measurements.  Odd.

And though the recipe calls for part cake flour (to approximate the soft flours used in 'classic' Southern biscuit recipes), I typically use just all-purpose flour, and it works just fine.  

I don't use a biscuit cutter.  After rolling out the dough, I cut with a knife into triangles.  No fuss, no bother.  

Flaky Buttermilk Biscuits (source: The New York Times)
Yield 10 to 12 biscuits

Time 30 minutes
    230 grams (about 2 cups) all-purpose flour
    50 grams (about 1/2 cup) cake flour
    15 grams (about 1 tablespoon) baking powder
    8 grams (about 2 teaspoons) sugar
    6 grams (about 1 1/4 teaspoon) fine sea salt
    9 tablespoons unsalted butter, chilled and cubed
    1 cup buttermilk, chilled.

Method
    1. Heat the oven to 450 degrees. Line a rimmed baking sheet with parchment.
    2. In a bowl, whisk together flours, baking powder, sugar and salt. Using a pastry cutter or fork, quickly cut in 8 tablespoons butter until it forms pea-size crumbs and is uniformly mixed it (for flaky biscuits you want the butter to remain cold). Make a well in the center of the flour mixture and pour in buttermilk. Stir together until it just forms a moist, slightly tacky dough.
    3. Turn dough out onto a lightly floured surface. Knead 2 or 3 times, then pat out into a 3/4-inch-thick round. Using a 2-inch round cutter, cut the biscuits. Twisting the cutter prevents proper rising; to prevent sticking, dip the cutter lightly in flour between biscuits. Do not re-roll the scraps, but pat them together and cut into rounds. Transfer biscuits to the baking sheet.
    4. Melt remaining 1 tablespoon butter. Brush butter lightly over the tops of hot biscuits. Bake until puffed and golden, about 15 minutes. Cool 5 minutes before serving.

Fried stuffed peppers

This is one of those dishes from every Italian mother's repertory -- long, sweet peppers (sometimes called "cubanelle" in grocery stores), that have been stuffed with a savory bread mixture, then fried until tender.

It's filling, frugal, vegetarian, and delicious. Makes a great side dish to a roast, or chicken cutlets, or a main course for a Lenten Friday. 

For the savory bread stuffing, to fill 6 - 8 peppers, depending on size:

6 slices good-quality white sandwich bread (like Pepperidge Farm or Arnold's), crusts and all, pulsed into crumbs in a food processor
Enough milk to moisten the crumbs, maybe a scant half cup
A clove or two garlic, crushed
Salt and pepper
A couple tablespoons chopped parsley
A couple tablespoons capers, drained and chopped
A dozen olives, chopped (any sort will do -- from green olives with pimentos from a jar, to Kalamata, to oil-cured Sicilian)
1/4 cup grated pecorino
A good drizzle of olive oil
An anchovy filet or two, if desired.

Moisten the crumbs with the milk.  You want to have a soft mass, but not a soupy one.  Add the other ingredients as you have and as you like.  You're aiming for a savory mixture, and very accurate measurements are not too critical.  I like to add an anchovy filet for savor, but feel free to leave it out if you don't like it. If you want to taste the mixture prior to filling the peppers, take a tablespoon of it, place it in a ramekin, and pop it into the microwave for a few seconds to cook.  Taste for seasoning.  Adjust as necessary.

Prep the peppers:  cut the tops off, and remove the seed pod.  Spoon a couple tablespoons of the stuffing mixture into each pepper, being very careful not to overstuff.  The stuffing will expand as it cooks, as you can plainly see in the photo below.

Heat a skillet over a medium burner, film with olive oil, and add the peppers.  I find the easiest way to cook these is in a 350°F oven, for about 15-20 minutes, turning every so often so they cook evenly.  Alternately, you can continue to cook them on the stovetop.

You will likely notice that as the peppers cook, the skins will darken and begin to peel.  No need to worry, but if you're so inclined, you can peel them off before serving -- they come off very easily. 

Serve hot, or at room temperature. 

By the way, that skillet in the photo is my 12-inch DeBuyer steel skillet.  Steel (not stainless, mind you), get very 'ugly' very quickly as they are used and seasoned, but they conduct heat nicely, and can be used on the stovetop or in the oven.  A nice investment, and compared to stainless pans (like All-Clad), much less expensive. 

Pasta alla carbonara, sort of.

Not quite authentic carbonara, but close.  I used plain old bacon, not guanciale or pancetta, and onion in this. 

It's still very good.

1 lb pasta -- I used gemelli, "twins," 2-in long helices  (or other short pasta of your liking)
1/2 lb bacon, chopped into small pieces
1 large yellow onion
2 cloves garlic, crushed
2 egg yolks
Black pepper
Chopped parsley (optional)
Grated cheese -- pecorino or parmigiano

Saute the bacon in a skillet -- you can add a bit of olive oil to get things started -- until it is browned, but not fully crisp.  Add onions and garlic, and cook until the onions are softened. 

While the bacon and onions are sauteing, boil the gemelli in ample salted water, and drain, reserving a cup or so of the cooking liquid. 

Tip the cooked gemelli into a serving bowl, add the sauteed bacon/onion/garlic mixture to it, mixing well.  Add two egg yolks, and toss well, to let the yolk coat the pasta and create a creamy sauce.  Add pasta cooking liquid as necessary or desired to loosen the mixture.  Grind a generous amount of black pepper over all, and give one final toss. 

Garnish with chopped parsley, if desired.  Pass cheese at the table.  

Slow-roasted perfection

Roasted pork shoulder, studded liberally with garlic and herbs, then roasted in an open pan at 325°F for about 4 hours. 

Tender, juicy meat, basted continually by the layer of fat, and an an irresistibly crisp skin, which you can peel off, break up, and snack on while finishing up your meal preparations. 

This was an 11-lb, bone-in, whole shoulder roast. 

I made some stock in the morning, and used a few tablespoons of the rendered fat to make a silky gravy. 

Seven-word wisdom

Eat everything.  It's not medicine.  Nor poison.

My entry in a long-ago New York Times contest for a seven-word 'haiku,' mimicking Michael Pollan's words of wisdom: Eat food. Not too much. Mostly plants.   [For you sticklers out there, yes, I understand that it's not a haiku, as typically defined, but more an aphorism, a distilled, concise statement of principle.]

I didn't win, but I still like my entry. 

It's a sentiment echoed recently by chef/writer Michael Ruhlman in recent blog entries, which led me to dig out that 'haiku' I entered into the contest.