House-of-Yes

More soon.

More soon.

I made a rheostat to control the power output of my 1950’s Dulane Fryryte. More on that eventually. The rheostat will also control soldering iron outputs (stained glass work), lights (dimming), fans (speed), or anything else you might desire to plug into it. The dimmer (Lutron C-1500) is rated to 1500 watts, has huge cooling fins (it is museum grade), and I have mounted it to a four-square electrical box. To the four-square box I have mounted a two-square box, which houses a dual recepticle. I plug the fryer into the recepticle, and the dimmer into the wall. Because the fryer weighs in at 11 amps, I can only run one on a circuit, and need to keep other appliance use down to avoid tripping the 15 amp breaker.

Well, I cracked and bought a vintage 1950’s deep fryer. With “vintage” coming to mean esoteric and expensive in the parlance of our times, maybe I should say I bought a 1950’s Dulane Fryryte in relatively serviceable condition. Still, disapplying vintage does not mean I did not crack.

If you are curious about a nice blog entry about this appliance’s history by a couple who have purchased a pristine Fryryte as a “collectible,” click here and scroll down to the 1-5-05 entry. You all no doubt know that if I can’t use it, I won’t buy it. But their collection is full of stuff that can be both collectible and usable.

And if you want the practical, juicy details of mine, it is an F-4B. 120 VAC, 11.5 amps, 1320 watts. The last stat–the watts–is important, because I have made a seriously heavy-duty, wallet lightening rheostat to control mine, and invested in a remote probe thermometer to hit and maintain perfect frying temperatures.

Anyway, the fryer as acquired needed a little work. When I plugged it in at the “antique shop,” the cord caught fire and nearly set the store’s carpet aflame. Seriously!, but alas, the cord only sparked and smoked and left a black smolder mark where the cord had lain on the carpet. At least I knew up front that I would have to install a new cord. The rest looked good on a practical and aesthetic level: predictable 1950’s softened rectangular (think 1950’s toaster) shape, chrome body, drain spigot (only on the “B” models, I think), wire basket and removable handle that stores inside the wire basket (which nests inside the fryer) when not in use.

Taking the toaster apart to redo the cord presented no real problems, though I did make the inevitable faux pas of a novice by cracking the thermostat dial ring (time for some crazyglue) and forgetting to unscrew the control dial counterclockwise for removal, affording me the opportunity to break the inner tab that stopped the dial at “off” counterclockwise and at 400 degrees clockwise. I also might have flexed the felted resistor piece that the thermostat tab mounts to, which hypothetically could have allowed me to control the temp and power with a stock dial. I suspect the thermostat was long kaput and never would have worked again, which is why this gem ended up in the back room at a bargain price at that overly expensive antique shop in C-ville.

OK, rant disarmed. Whether or not the dial would have worked had I not buggered parts of that area will remain a mystery. And while it is sad that I did bugger parts, I still have a usable fryer that simply shows its age now. I decided to test it, and when I did, I discovered that the fryer has two settings that operate concurrently once you plug it in: always on, and always heating at maximum, even when the oil temperature surpasses 400 degrees were I to let it (can you say smoke point? can you say flash point?!?). To control the temperature for this test, I had to periodically unplug, then plug in the machine to regulate the heat (really just the application of it) and, after my test, walked away sated with enough tasty french fries and shrimp tempura determined to add some control to my fryer. I chose to make a rheostat, which is for another post.

It is claimed in The Joy of Cooking that if the oil is at the right temperature, the food picks up or absorbs very little oil. I found this to be the case on my trial run. A batch of shoestring fries, a batch of standard fries, and about 20 shrimp (30-ish count) fed three people and, upon draining the fryer, very little oil (about 2.5T, and that was with me spilling some). Granted, if you don’t use a heavy breading, or omit breading all together, you will use very, very little oil. Try it, it’s true. I opt out of degrading the joys of eating fried food by mentioning the potential deleterious effects of eating them (the foods, not the joy).

Pictures soon.

Achtung! Caution! Alarm! Cuidado!: One thing, if you get an old fryer and decide to test it (and clean it) by boiling water in it via its own power, know that you can shock yourself if you fill the water too high. Yeah, yeah, I know this because I overfilled mine and zapped myself, first when touching the lid and, after scratching my head and wondering whether I imagined getting shocked after my nice (ghetto extension cord) wiring job, the basket handle. I shut her down and decided oil at the fill line was a superior, and safer, way to test this lovely deep frying wonder.

HoTep’s breakfast huevos rancheros. Tortillas, over easy eggs, pink beans, leftover beef brisket, and homemade cheese.

Yup, you read right. 18 pounds of smoked brisket. I only took pictures of the meat before it was cooked (cooking took about 12 hours). Outrageous, and insanely good (HottButt and DanGafro, who claim to be authorities on Texas BBQ, said it rivaled anything Texas can produce. Served with potato salad, thai spiced slaw, texas beans, fried pickle chips, fried okra, homemade potato chips (with various seasonings). Savory berry pie with rosemary for desert.

Yost, HottButt, RudeBoy, DanGafro and I paddled the James Sunday. The day was a blast, and we got caught in one heck of a rainstorm as we navigated the rock garden downstream of Balcony falls. The day was not without incident: DanGafro managed to flip his kayak twice in quick succession (in still water, no less!); HottButt once, but RudeBoy took the cake in flipping at Balcony falls.

HottButt glides over the falls

DanGafro plows through with HoTep’s landshark. 12 miles per gallon!

Imitating Slim Pickens, I ride the bomb, whooping and hat aflail.

RudeBoy flips and recovers with flair

DanGafro had a local, organic NY strip; I had some shrimp. Steak grilled outside; shrimp cooked in grill pan (defrost in salted water, marinade with mustard, paprika, red pepper flakes, lime juice, pepper, salt). The most curious part of the meal was that DanGafro wanted some vegetables, so he hit the market and came back with–shish kebabs! He said the veggies on the ‘babs were his veggies; but as you can see, they are mostly meat. He ate the steak, then the shrimp, but I would not let him leave the table until he “finished his vegetables.” Result: xy chromosome meat fest. Mmmm, meat.

Shrimp, eggplant and salad supper. Eggplant grilled on Lodge grill skillet. Shrimp followed on grill. TinyFoodGirl and I ate.

Quarry season has begun. DanGafro and I just did a recon mission. The water is crisp, but we floated around for hours. Photos soon.

Faffing again.

Beets: They are better than you remember, and they were never that bad to begin with!

I’m cooking beet greens tonight (having torched the beets last week in DanGafro’s DeathStar. And since I love beets, and all parts of beets, I used “the Google” and found this page. This should keep me busy for a while.

My usual beet m.o. is to roast them on the grill, or in the fireplace, or in the oven, or at the campfire. Salt and olive oil is all that is required, other than tin foil (season, wrap, cook). Maybe a squeeze of lemon over the sliced beets, or a dash of red wine vinegar if I don’t have any lemon. Beets and salt are a natural combo–sort of like cantaloupe and salt, so you really don’t need to worry about seasoning.

I have also had success with a beet and mint salad I often make for Thanksgiving. Beets are also awesome grated raw onto a salad; and if you are into the whole color thing, they look great when arranged beside grated raw carrots. Some grated cucumber could round things out. Just don’t drown your salad in dressing–leave it on the side.

Madhur Jaffrey has a beet & mushroom curry in her World Vegetarian. Tasty, too, though I always end up tweaking her recipes.

The C-ville Saturday market crew(s) will soon be bringing heirloom beets (once they are mature). There are many cool and tasty varieties.

More later.

Insanely good beef tacos, and while not deliberately modeled after “barbacoa,” they came out most similar to barbacoa in the end. I took leftover oxtail meat, heated it with onion, poured in most of a can of Herdez salsa ranchera (a perennial standby for a fast meal), reduced it back to semi-dry, and served tacos with red cabbage, cilantro, raw onions, etc. on corn tortillas.

For those who are curious, the oxtail meat is insanely tasty, and has all the fat of pork shoulder, but a fantastic beef flavor. Heart-cloggingly good. Also a good way to use up leftovers after making beef stock (as was the H-o-Y pho).

This will be the last trip for a long while, I imagine. Finally tidying things up at Antares. Gonna fill the P.O.D. and ship it. Gonna be a sad good-bye. I’ll take photos.

Antares has a huge prickly pear cactus plant in the front yard that I planted back in 1992. I bought a paddle at the OCC weekend “swap meet” and planted it (deciding to eat the others I had bought for dinner). The thing took off, and just grew and grew. I took cuttings and tried to plant them in Darwin, but a hard frost took them out within 3 years. Also, they never grew as sturdy out there, due to the altitude, wind, cold, and some sort of bugger that would nibble on them. No doubt I’ll take some more cuttings before this is over and plant them in various places where they will be undisturbed. When I come back, I’ll visit them. There used to be huge prickly pear outside the Santa Barbara mission, but recent photos betray that they have been removed. Stupid freakin’ white man.

We also have a huge staghorn fern (platycerium) in the yard. Based on its size, and watching it grow for over 20 years, I’d say it is easily close to, or older than, 100 years old. “Rosa” loved it, and taught me how to care for it, including feeding it banana peels. In 20 years, it has fallen off its mounting board twice. I have remounted it both times. First with Uptown, then with Timmy B just after “Eduardo” died. It cannot live in VA, nor would it survive outdoors in Darwin. I can take small growth portions that can survive indoors, but the fate of the gigantic mother plant is uncertain at the moment.

Besides obsessing over stuff (read: crap) and plants, I should probably plan a few things to do while I am out–revisit some favorite spots, take a bike ride along the beach, walk in the few undeveloped hills, swim in the ocean, explore some tide pools. Any ideas out there?

Itinerary: CA trip forthcoming. May 7 to 17.

IAD to LGB. Carpool to IAD with Ho-tep; LGB to IAD. Carpool with TFG’s mom.

Wednesday, May 7 9L30 pm to Monday, May 12 at noon: Hotel in Costa Mesa.

Monday to Thursday: Darwin visit–way out of “the O.C..

Friday night: Chaka’s place for a grill out–and it is going to be USDA prime steak–black and blue.

More later.

Pho: House-of-Yes style.

Oxtail based “brown” stock;
Oxtail meat;
Top round, sliced thin;
Rice noodles:
Usual accompaniments: holy basil, mung bean sprouts, hot peppers, lime wedges, rooster sauce, mint, scallions, tomato slices, onion half-moons.

Still a work in progress….

There a billion web and book resources on pho. I won’t pretend to be an authority. I just make it like I like it, and as is the case with homebrew, every batch is different. It takes at least two days to make good pho; some would say it takes longer. I make the broth in advance (either the day before, or it can be made in large quantities and frozen). One of these days I’ll make a huge stock batch using my 15 gallon beer brewing kettle and the outdoor propane burner!

Washington Post article on Pho.
Tigers and Strawberries blog on Pho.

Queries via comments, which are moderated and not published.

Oil painting. Queries only via blog comments (which are moderated and will not be published).

Still a work in progress… but growing.

I picked up some oxtail and decided to make “brown” beef stock with it. By “brown,” I mean, I roasted the meat in a 400 degree oven for one hour before adding it to the stock pot. I imagine I used 3# oxtail, plus a couple beef short rib bones (previously roasted by cooking), plus a pork shoulder ach bone (which I did not roast). I added a couple of carrots, a couple ribs of celery, a bunch of cilantro, an onion, several white and black peppercorns, about 5 cloves, and a pinch of Chinese 5-spice (which I really do not care for). After cooking, straining, cooling, and skimming, I decided to reduce the stock. During reduction, I added a few slices of ginger. Once reduced to desired flavor, I’ll add salt.

For reference on oxtail:

Book recipes:

• Red Wine Braise (& Chinese Themed Variant): Nigel Slater. Appetite, 364f.
• Gallina Pinta (Oxtail, Pork, and Bean Soup): Diana Kennedy. The Cuisines of Mexico, 161f.
• Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall. River Cottage Meat Book, (x)

Web recipes:

• Braised Oxtail with Baked Eggs & Perfect Bloody Mary (Just Braise Blog)
• Braised Oxtail with Star Anise & Chinese Greens (Bon Appetit)
• Red Wine Braised Oxtail (Sunset)
• Faux Pho/Hawaiian Style Oxtail Soup (TSOGB Blog)

Notes: Oxtail makes a great asian style beef stock (4# oxtail, 1 onion, 5 cloves, 4oz fresh ginger, 5 star anise, 1 cinnamon stick, 1t peppercorns (your choice). 5 quarts water (to be reduced to 3 over time).
Shred the meat and use it in a soup later. Meat can be blanched in a hard boil for 15 minutes to force out most of the scum. Rinse pot and meat and proceed with recipe.

Thanks, RudeBoy!

Not that anyone cares, but…

Too much is going on right now: Homer, teaching, Antares house, other stuff.

No posts until things level out.

Rant:

If you believe 2008 will see prosperity and “growing” our economy, you don’t know dirka.

Rant over.

More stock. This one will be dubbed “lamb stock,” due to the fact that it has two lamb leg bones in it, and the flavor of lamb can be quite assertive.

2 lamb leg bones
1 pork shoulder bone
1 cooked turkey leg quarter (from the November holiday)
random chicken bones (saved in freezer for later use)
shrimp hulls (again, saved in freezer)
6 leaves romaine lettuce (on their last legs)
4 white mushrooms (beginning to open)
1 white potato (sprouting in at least three places)
1 1/2 white onions, roughly chopped
green parts of 6 scallions, wilting
4ribs celery
4 cloves crushed garlic
salt, pepper, etc. Go easy on spices beside these two. Others can be added later.

Boil bones for 5 minutes. Drain and rinse, return to pot, bring to near boil and place into 180 degree oven for 4-8 hours. Strain.

Once you have made 5 batches of any stock of any kind, you will not need any guidance, unless you are making pho, which will require only beef bones and some aromatics, like cinnamon and star anise. Be aware that the following add really strong flavors, so be prepared if you use them: lamb, cabbage family (bok choy, cabbage, broccoli, cauliflower, etc.). Best not to use for a neutral stock, unless you are willing to experiment. Better to make a mild stock and spice it up as needed. Or make a “cabbage family” stock and experiment.

Country Coburn, the Tiny Food Girl, TimmyB and I had a Thanksgiving to remember. TimmyB and I smoked a 13 pound turkey, having rubbed it down the night before with salt, pepper, olive oil, cumin, paprika, and a host of other spices. Cooking turkey by any means presents a problem: The white meat should be cooked only to 150 degrees; the dark meat should be brought to an internal temperature of 175 degrees. David Rosengarten suggests pulling the turkey out of the heat once the breast reaches 150, cutting off and reserving the light meat, then returning the bird to the heat until the dark meat reaches temperature. Well, the idea is a good one. We, however, did not do that this time. In fact, we started smoking the turkey at 9:00 am, which proved to be way too early for an 8:00 dinner. The meat was probably done by the early afternoon. Still, we kept the turkey in the smoker on low heat until the evening. Was the meat dry? Yes, and no. Farmed turkey is, by nature, a lean meat, so a juicy turkey in both light and dark meats is (unless following Rosengarten’s suggestion) an unattainable goal. But the smoke provides a depth of flavor impossible to reproduce in the oven, The low heat does, on the other hand, retain some juiciness, and many lube up turkey’s dry texture with cranberry sauce or gravy. So… was it dry? Yes, like most turkey. Still, was it succulent and juicy? Yes. Was it a success? Absoluetly. In fact, I’d do it again, though with a little more attention to temperature control. Problem was, we had other things going on besides worrying about a turkey. More on that in another post.

The menu follows:

Smoked turkey;
Garlic roasted potatoes;
Caesar salad with homemade dressing and homemade croutons;
Fire roasted beets;
Cranberry sauce;
Homemade pumpkin pie.

Because the group was small, many were missed, both current and former constituents of the House. Looking forward to future Thanksgivings, in which more are able to attend.

Not really that smart-arse, but I did grab a few wilting veggies and indulge a hankering for some sumac. I must say that on most occasions, I opt for a simple butter/salt/pepper rub + squeeze of lemon, garlic (roasted in the pan), and potatoes version.

4.5# chicken. Cheap is fine, but organic is a better taste choice and worth a little more dough;
4 Russett potatoes. Peeled (to avoid leathery skin), boiled 10 minutes, bruised by shaking pan;
2 carrots, peeled, and 8 pathetic mushrooms, soaked (fungal faux pas, but they were heading South);
1/4# softened butter; 1/2c minced curly parsley; 4 pressed garlic cloves–mashed together;
1 lemon, halved;
1 whole bulb garlic, halved;
kosher salt & black pepper;
sumac.

Rub chicken with butter/parsley mash (If you wear latex gloves, you might have less butter mixture stick to you than I did). Put knob of butter mixture into carcass cavity. Rub salt and pepper over chicken. Sprinkle some sumac over exterior of chicken. Squeeze both halves of lemon over bird and put half of lemon in cavity (other half in roasting tin). Arrange bird with potatoes, carrots, head of garlic, mushrooms in roasting pan.

Oven at 400 degrees. Bird cooked until done by my standards and my secret “doneness gauge”–about 1.5 hours, give or take (your gauge might be a thermometer, clear juices from a pierced thigh, voodoo, mojo, whatever). Lots of room, too, for temperature preferences. You could ramp the heat up to 500 for the first 20 minutes to allow browning, then scale it back to 350. Or you could just maintain 350 instead of 400. Or, if you have lots of time and don’t want browning (is there such a person?), you could, in theory, set your oven way low at 170 degrees and wait hours for the internal temp to reach the same. I mean, come on, its just roast chicken.

Hooray! Elephant Whisperer is back. She and SweetCheeks are living at the Pearl-of-Surl’s former abode, and they had a party.

SweetCheeks manned the coals “bush style,” which meant, well, who knows what that means. “Bush style” + the usual fashionably late guests meant that the coals were not hot enough once the cooking began. So, desperate for a black and blue burger, I fired up one of those Weber charcoal chimney things and found an extra grate. When things were screaming hot (think afterburner), I slapped my burger on. About a minute +/- per side later, with an occasional lifting of the grate to prevent obscene scorching, I pulled my burger off the heat and slid it onto a bun. Great.

Things did not go so well for the brats that someone tried to cook in the same way. The casings immediately and literally exploded. The inside stayed raw. Nevermind, my back was turned while I ate my burger. Mmmm, burger.

I wish I had a video of the cooking. It was outrageous.

I got a phone call from the TimmyB. “Get over here before the liver overcooks,” he said. “OK,” I said. And I was there before he hung up the phone. It was the best liver dinner ever, and he is the master.

Chicken livers soaked in milk. Dredged in white flour and fine cornmeal + spices (black pepper and cumin–needed cayenne, but that is for next time). Dusted with kosher salt after serving. By the way, I stand by the “best ever” claim, despite the lack of cayenne.

No side dishes this time; but a baguette, gherkins, cheddar, and/or pickled white onions would be fine sides.

Click the photo to view.

Well, not literally. “Petit sale” (with an acute accent over the final e) might be translated as “little savory/salted.” It is a pork belly version of what we in America might call “salt pork” that has been blanched for up to an hour. Um… that is not quite right either…(read on).

When you make your own bacon (whether you leave it “raw” like pancetta, or slowly hot smoke/oven roast it to an internal temperature of 150 degrees F., you are often left wondering what dishes you should cook or learn to cook and add to your repetoire. Regular weekend rashers are a no-brainer, so when I say “wondering,” I mean “wondering besides cooking the usual rashers.”

Three answers that come to mind, though they are not the only ones: 1) dice the bacon into lardons and make pasta with pesto and lardons; 2) make a serious boston baked bean dish; 3) make petit sale, which is often served with puy lentils (a.k.a. “French lentils”) made to your liking (with carrots and onions, should you prefer) served with a slice of blanched , unsmoked homemade bacon atop it (or serve it over peas, or anything else that might strike your fancy). The bacon is cooked in stock (or water) that is used to cook the lentils. Note: the bacon will swell up most impresively if you are using homemade. Awesome.

Don’t substitute regular lentils for the puy variety, should you go with lentils. The former are inferior in this particular dish.

I like to add some butter to the lentils for creaminess; and I like black pepper ground over the bacon.

If you want more details, you will have to email me or leave a comment.

Salt. Bad for blood pressure, good for flavor (and so much more)!

No salt, no bacon (but that is for another post).

What kind of salt?

• Regular table salt: Nein! Nein! Nein! Throw it away.
• Rock salt: Good only for the ice cream maker (if you have one).
• Kosher salt (e.g. Morton’s): Must have. Buy the largest box.
• Sea salt: Expensive, but must have. Use fine grind only for seasoning at the table (kosher flakes are too big, and the taste is too strong for ad hoc sprinkling).
• Smoked salt: Have not tried it. I’ll buy some at Whole Foods one of these days, then smoke my own using the chi-chi stuff as a base line. Actually, I’ll probably just ask for a taste and get denied, then I’ll drop and break the container on the way back to the aisle, being sure to scoop up a sample before seeking out a grocery manager with a look of embarassment on my face. $18.00 for one cup of smoked salt (and no instructions on how to use it or recipes incorporating it). What has the world come to? Well, you all know what P.T. Barnum said about fools…

Once you have your salt(s)…
You should separate some out and place it in a handy container. Kosher salt by the stove; fine sea salt at the table.

Now I know you Alton Brown fans will at some point consider buying his favorite salt-a-ma-jig for about $20.00: the RSVP Endurance Salt Server (with spoon, to boot!). Fie on it! Alton himself eschews the spoon (so he (and you, potentially) will have paid for something you won’t use). And I eschew the whole contraption altogether. Instead, get a squat, wide mouth one cup mason jar + lid. I got one at my local goodwill for 25 cents. Kerr brand jar with a Ball brand lid. Works just as well, and looks decent enough by the stove as at the table (provided I have a tablecloth out). But for Pete’s sake, don’t “present” the salt at the table with a lid astride it. The lid is for storage when you are not cooking or eating.

Besides, the opportunity cost of the RSVP salt server is about the same as one cup of that gourmet smoked salt… maybe I won’t ask for that free sample after all.

This for 25 cents?

Or this for 20 bucks?