Sunday, July 27, 2008

Oxtail Stew and Macaroni Pie

Okay, I've been guilted. Now that Angie's already posted on the blog I made her join, I know that I need to contribute.


It's taken a while for me to decide on my first post. You see, I've been thinking about this blog thing for some time. I've been lurking on other blogs, tagging recipes on delicious, taking pictures of my food, and generally being an obsessive observer. This is what I do. I stare before I leap.


Finally, I've decided. I'm starting with a bang. Oxtail stew is on my top ten list of best things to put in one's mouth. It's a recipe from home. Oxtail and pig's tail are very commonly used in Trinidad, and I was puzzled to discover that many Americans think that eating an animal's tail is weird and somewhat gross. No one seems to understand that there is a perfect fat:muscle ratio, huge flavor, and the most satisfying marrow packed bone in the tail. That's fine, more oxtail for me.


In St Louis, finding oxtail is a bit of a challenge, but very much possible. There are two places you can get it, at the Soulard farmer's market and at Global Foods, which is in Kirkwood. This particular tail was bought at Global, bearing a tag that claimed it was never frozen. I don't know that I believed that little story, and I'm not sure what advantages that gives to a meat that I was going to stew for six hours, but it probably made somebody else feel better about their purchase.


In Trinidad, oxtail is usually cooked in a pressure cooker. Pressure cookers are much more difficult to find in St Louis than are oxtail. I don't own one, and can't help you find one. If you know of one, help a girl out. So, I've settled on the slow cooker. Although it uses a completely opposite method to the precious pressure cooker, it also comverts tough, sinewy meat to fall-off-the-bone deliciousness. Weird, huh? And, just in case you're not sure what fall-off-the-bone deliciousness looks like, I've included this handy photograph:








Before it goes into the slow cooker, the meat undergoes the quintessential Trinidadian treatment of being browned in sugar and oil. We brown all of our meat like this before stewing, and one day there will be a post on chicken getting on this action. Stewed chicken is very popular at home, very Trini. Don't be scared of the sugar treatment, it does wonderful things to the meat, and it will not be sweet as a result.


And the macaroni pie, well, that's just what Trinis call baked macaroni and cheese. We eat it quite frequently, as a side dish. Macaroni and cheese would be never be considered a full dinner in a Trini mother's house (my mother very much included). It's easy, it's good, and it's even better with some oxtail gravy over the top.


At home we get long sticks of macaroni that we use for this. I cannot find that pasta in St Louis. So, I use either elbow macaroni, or shells. This pie was made with shells, and I've really begun to like using them for this, as they just seem a touch more elegant. They're just prettier. And they hold cheese quite well.



Let's start the recipes,

Oxtail Stew

1-2 oxtails
3 tbsp brown sugar
2 tbsp canola or vegetable oil
5-6 sprigs of fresh thyme or 1.5 tsp dry thyme
3-4 cloves of garlic, minced
6 tbsp of Trinidad green seasoning* or use your beef marinade of choice
salt and pepper
water

1. Place your oxtail pieces in a medium-sized bowl or container. Add garlic, green seasoning and salt and pepper to taste. Mix well and allow to marinate overnight. If you're not using green seasoning, just marinate as you would usually any beef for stewing.

2. Now that the meat is ready, place a large pot over a medium fire. Put the oil in and allow it to heat up.

3. When the oil is hot, it's time to burn the sugar. Put the brown sugar in and stir. Allow it to melt completely, then let it bubble for a moment, and then darken slightly. However, don't let it go on too long, as if it burns you'll need to start all over. If it burns, it will be very dark and smell like burning. You'll know.

4. When the sugar is browned, add the meat. Toss the meat to coat, and allow it to sear.

5. Throw in the thyme sprigs. Toss.

6. Dump everything into a slow cooker and add water until the meat is covered. Add salt and pepper to taste. Set your cooker on low and in about six hours, you'll have perfect oxtail.


Macaroni Pie

3 cups uncooked pasta
3.5 - 4 cups grated white cheddar cheese
1- 1.5 cups milk
1 egg
4 tbsp butter
1 small onion, chopped
1 tsp mustard*
Salt and pepper to taste

1. Cook pasta. Drain.

2. Toss butter with hot pasta. You can also butter the baking dish, but it's not completely necessary.

3. Mix in cheese, onion, mustard, salt, and pepper, but reserve some cheese to sprinkle over the top. Empty mixture into baking dish.

4. Beat egg and milk together. Pour over the pasta mixture. Sprinkle the remaining cheese over the top. (You can also sprinkle some breadcrumbs over the top if you'd like).

5. Bake at 375 degrees, for about 30 - 35 minutes, or just until the top is browned and the liquid milk is no longer visible.


*The mustard is my mother's thing. She swears that it makes you "taste the cheese more." I'm fuzzy on the reasoning behind this, but I like the end result, so I continue to add it.


Thanks for playing everyone. More to come soon.

Shanna

The Joy and Misery

Here I was thinking you people would've posted something by now. I am by no means a trendsetter, a revolutionary, or a mutineer. I pave no path, I do not enlighten, I share no wisdom or knowledge (well, expect for alphabetic principal and one-to-one correspondence, but that's with unappreciative five year olds). But goodness, y'all, someone has to start this.

For those of you who do not know, I'm towards the end of my embark on my first summer break as an "educator." I don't really say I teach much, I think I babysit more than anything. But either way, I trick myself into believing that I am somehow challenging the current education system and NCLB. I like to think the achievement gap is closing due to my expertise in teaching the months of the year to the Macarana, directional positions to the Cupid Shuffle, and the long vowel sound with a delightful poem involving a bossy 'E' that has a history of 'biting' the other vowels. In addition, I have honed my skills in "
Red Light Green Light" and "I Spy with My Little Eye." I also play a mean game of Sight Word Bingo.

Despite my accomplishments, or my failures (which severely outnumber the prior), I hold a lot of stress. This rewarding position I have taken has actually left me feeling worthless and unappreciated - much more than the world of retail ever did. Administrators see me as a worthless faculty 'member;' parents see me as either a) an expert, b) a racist, self-esteem damaging idiot or c) a sweet chick they'd like to take out on a date; students see me as a multiracial (I'm still trying to figure that one out) old lady who shockingly knows exactly how to "Shoulder Up Side to Side."

And according to them, I eat really weird food. The daily question at lunch is "So, is that Chinese, or what?"

This brings us to my reason for cooking. Its the one thing I can do without
critics or judges. Sure, some things aren't great. I have a list of failures. Here's my Top Five failures:

  1. Yellow Curry - Summer 2006. I tried curry on my own, only to have Sean say "Uh, can I make a suggestion?" He slowly put his fork down, and stopped eating. As he went on with possible additions to improve the "flavor" of my mushy rice with gooey yellow sauce, I slowly cried, and cried, and cried. And then I told him to leave.
  2. Vegan Ravioli - Summer 2008. It wasn't so much "vegan" as it was I had no cheese. I made an impulse purchase at the grocery store of won ton wrappers (which are not vegan, btdubs) and stuffed them with mushrooms, zucchini, and onion. They quickly fell apart in the boiling water, and I ate left overs for dinner. I think I saw this one coming, though.
  3. Meringue - Spring 2008. The Pavlova recipe in the April edition of Food and Wine sure looked awesome. But somehow, after three attempts at making "soft peaks," I realized I was out of sugar, eggs, and patience. Once I discovered that my failed meringue had made it up on the ceiling (to which I STILL do not know how that happened), I called it a loss. My then roommate's weird family, on the other hand, actually ate my failed meringue. I guess that pleased someone.
  4. "Polynesian Surprise" - Summer 2008. This isn't so much a failure as it is an oddity. My dear friend Alex was in the process of moving to Boston. He made effort to use up as much food as possible prior to moving. This lead to interesting meal choices. My favorite by far was a curried couscous with an array of things - artichokes, peas, dried cranberries, I think there were nuts involved - either way, it wasn't something you'd normally piece together. Each bite involved a new flavor. Nothing was consistent. It wasn't unenjoyable, by any means, just unpredictable. Alex finished the meal by saying "In a week, you're going to wish you could have Polynesian Surprise again, but you won't be able to recreate it, because you won't be able to remember which flavor was most prominent - there are just too many." And by golly, he was right.
  5. French Bread - Too Often to Count. I have had dreams for years of being self-sufficient when it comes to bread. I envision myself sifting flour, kneading dough, and creating beautiful scores into dough. I'd picture myself opening the door to company, saying "Oh that smell, why yes, it IS a baguette. I do fancy myself quite the expert in French peasant cuisine!" But alas, I fail time and time again. The last failed loaf left me hopeless. My only comfort came from my grandfather, a true artisan baker, who said "I spent the last 15 years trying to make the perfect baguette at home. I designed and built a kitchen solely for my baking attempts. And I have made countless loaves. And I still fail. Every time."
It seems as of late that I fail, or come up short, at every new recipe I try. When Shanna introduced the idea of a blog to me, I was ecstatic, energized to introduce everyone I knew to a new recipe or two that I had perfected over the summer. But, here I am, with nothing new. My nights consist to making farmer's market salads, various pasta dishes, and the occasional fried food (I must admit, moving to the South has sparked a "fry bug" in me. I will share these recipes in future posts - get ready). I use to cook for all those around me - Evan, Alex, Jarred, Melvinn, etc. But there's no one here in Charlotte. People have moved, or spent the summer at least 1000 miles away. I've had no drive for perfection - maybe this is the key to my summertime failures. The least I can do is provide you with a standby recipe of mine.

A couple of years ago I stumbled across Jane Brody's Good Food Book - Living the High-Carbohydrate Way. Perfect for me, absolutely perfect. Any woman who suggests eating a lot of chickpeas and pasta is a goddess in my eyes. I bought it immediately and began to read (yes, you can read it like a book). In it she has a recipe entitled "Spinach and Cheese Noodles." Its like nothing you've ever had - so simple, so easy, and so good. Its my staple for lonely nights of me + npr + wine + a good book. I don't make it too often, mostly because it'd spoil its specialness to me. However, I've never, ever made it for anyone else. I figured now would be the perfect time to share one of my favorites. It really holds a "Loop-ness" to me. I first made it in my 6273 Delmar apartment, and loved it since. It makes me think, even on the worst days of teaching, that I still hold that kid in me, who pretended to be a grown up, far too cool for everyone else in the surrounding area. I don't have to change the world, or please everyone. I can just be me.


Spinach Cheese Noodles

  • 8 oz noodles (I prefer a light noodle, like angel hair)
  • 1 tbsp olive oil
  • 1 clove garlic
  • 1 lb fresh spinach, blanched and chopped (or you can cheat with 10 oz of frozen spinach, thawed)
  • 1 tsp dried basil
  • 1/4 cup chopped parsley
  • 1 cup cottage cheese (I know, people think its gross, but it's so good)
  • 1 tsp crushed red pepper flakes
  • 2 tbsp grated Parmesan cheese
  • S & P
1. Cook your noodles however you please. Drain 'em.
2. In a warm pan, use your oil to saute the garlic. Add spinach once garlic begins to brown. Saute until spinach begins to wilt.
3. Add the basil, parsley, crushed red pepper flakes, and cottage cheese. Cook over a low heat. The cottage cheese will begin to separate from the water in it - just leave it on the stove for a few minutes. This is totally normal.
4. After the cheese melts, add noodles. Leave over heat for a minute more, then remove and top with Parmesan. Serve immediately.

Wednesday, July 23, 2008

Basic Frittata



Frittatas are a staple at our place. They're ridiculously easy, and you can throw any combination of flavors at them. When vegetables start to look a little doubtful, this is where they end up. For every recipe I meant to try, but didn't, there's a frittata.

Did I mention that they can be pretty cheap too? The boyfriend and I are grad students. We have little to no money at any given time. We can't always afford protein in the form of actual meat. But, eggs do nicely, and this baby can be served at dinner if necessary.

This particular frittata was of our standard variety, all veggies with a little cheese over the top. This is the cheap kind. However, I've given the frittata the royal treatment in the past, adding prosciutto, asparagus, and/or goat cheese. It dresses the meal up, and suddenly you can serve it to guests and produce lots of impressed little faces. I highly recommend one for brunch potlucks, it transports easily, and is one of the few egg dishes that doesn't have to be piping hot to be good.

All you need is a frying pan that can be put in the oven (not the ones with plastic handles) or a cast iron pan. It's basically a variation on an omlette that begins on the stovetop and ends in the oven, so you'll need your cooking implement to be a little versatile. Personally, I wouldn't have mine any other way...


Frittata

4-5 eggs
1/4 cup milk
2 tbsp olive or canola oil
About two cups of your favorite veggies, roughly chopped
Strips of ham, turkey, prosciutto or any other deli meat (optional)
About 1/2 cup of your favorite cheese(s), grated
Salt and pepper to taste

1. Preheat oven to 450 degrees F
2. Beat eggs and milk together in a large bowl. Season egg mixture with salt and pepper.
3. Saute vegetables in oil over medium flame, until cooked through. Add meat and toss, if using meat.
4. Pour egg mixture over veggies and turn flame down slightly.
5. Allow eggs to cook for five to ten minutes. When edges are done and eggs seem to be setting, sprinkle cheese over the top and transfer to oven.
6. Let the frittata bake for another five to ten minutes. When the top is just beginning to brown, it's done.
7. Slice into wedges like a pizza and enjoy.