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Cooking without a safety net

Thursday, October 24, 2013

Just ribbin' ya

You know what's handy about slow-cooker recipes?  They take hours to cook, but there's a lot of wiggle room, so they're handy for when out-of-state visitors are coming, and you don't know exactly when they'll arrive.  When Dad and The Lady came to visit us this summer, I made these ribs for dinner the night they arrived, because it really didn't matter if they showed up right on time or an hour late--dinner would be waiting for them.  I also made some cornbread (in the picture) and a pineapple upside down cake (a post for another time), and managed to time them both to come out of the oven as our guests came up the stairs to our apartment, but that's just because I'm fantastic.

Caribbean Spiced Ribs
3 lb pork loin back ribs
2 T dried minced onion
1 t ground mustard
1 t crushed red pepper (you can use paprika here; I just used red pepper flakes)
1/2 t ground allspice
1/2 t cinnamon
1/2 t garlic powder (or a small clove, minced)
1 medium onion, sliced (I think I used about half an onion.  The onions we buy are always much larger than the recipes suggest.  One large onion, chopped, is NOT one cup.  More like three.)
1/2 C water
1 1/2 C barbecue sauce

This was only the second time I'd made this recipe.  The first time, we really liked it, but I kept thinking it was a stretch to call them Caribbean ribs.  On what grounds, Ms. Crocker?  Because there are pigs in the Caribbean?  Because there are onions?  Weak sauce.  I decided that they needed some pineapple, at the very least, which is why they happened on the same night as my favorite cake (it turned out better than ever before--I can't believe I forgot to get a picture).  I'll explain how below.  I also considered using rum instead of the water, but I didn't.  Mainly because we didn't have any.

  1. Betty says to spray the inside of the crock pot with cooking spray.  I don't use it, so I didn't do that.  It didn't seem to matter.
  2. Combine the dried onion and spices in a small bowl.  Rub the mix into both sides of the ribs.  Cut the ribs in 4" sections.  Layer ribs and sliced onion (and pineapple!) in the slow cooker.  Betty says to pour the water over the ribs, but I think that washes too much seasoning off them.  Pour it down the inside of the crock.
  3. Cover and cook on Low 8-9 hours.  Remember the Crock Pot Rule: leave often so you can return to smell dinner cooking.  Good stuff, right??
  4. Remove ribs from cooker to a large bowl.  Drain liquid from cooker and discard (or pour it over the kibble of a very lucky dog).  Coat ribs in barbecue sauce and return to cooker with any excess sauce.  Cover and cook on Low 1 hour.
Did I mention I found blue cornmeal at the store?  It makes blue cornbread!  How great is that?!  Food in weird colors is EXCELLENT!

Thursday, October 17, 2013

What a crock-pot

When I was in grad school, Dad bought me a crock-pot.  I practically lived out of the thing for a solid year.  I could stuff it full of whatever (he also gave me a slow-cooker cookbook), have dinner when I got back from a very long day of classes, and live off the leftovers for the rest of the week (I usually had a sandwich for lunch).  That thing was the start of me really cooking on my own, but I didn't get to this recipe until I was in Oregon (maybe because it was from a completely different cookbook).  Too bad--it's a good one.

Spicy Chicken in Peanut Sauce
disclaimer: not that spicy, nor that peanut-y
1 T olive oil
8 large chicken thighs (about 3 lbs), skin removed.  Bones optional.
1 C chopped onion
2x 14.5 oz cans diced tomatoes with green chilies, undrained
1x 14.5 oz can crushed tomatoes, undrained (I can't always find this.  Stewed tomatoes also work.  So will diced.  Odds are good that nobody eating it will know exactly what the texture should be, so they won't know if you fudged it a little, either)
2 T honey (like I'd stop at 2 T of honey!  HA!)
1 1/2 t cumin
1 t cinnamon
1/3 cup creamy peanut butter (I won't even buy creamy peanut butter.  I get the kind that says "extra crunchy," or if it's available, "big damn jar of peanuts with a little peanut butter to fill in the gaps.")
2 cups hot cooked couscous


  • heat oil in a 12" skillet.  Cast iron if you have it, because if you had it, why wouldn't you use it?  Cook the chicken thighs in the oil, turning once, until brown.  About 4 minutes.  DO NOT move the chicken around while you wait for it to cook.  Let it sit there, soaking in heat and crisping a little, until you turn it.  Turning it and removing it from the skillet should be the only times you bother it at all.
You can't beat a hot set of thighs.
  • Mix everything except the peanut butter, couscous, and chicken in a slow cooker.  The couscous shouldn't be a problem, because it takes five minutes to cook, and you won't need it until you're ready to eat, HOURS from now.  Add the chicken.  Stir it in a little to make sure the chicken thighs are submerged--or at least covered--in sauce.
  • Cover and cook on Low 7-8 hours.  Leave the room often so you can come back in and smell dinner.  It's one of the best features of a crock-pot.
This is exactly 1/3 C of peanut butter.
  • Stir in peanut butter until melted and blended.  Serve over couscous (did you remember to cook it?  No?  That's ok, it only takes five minutes!  It will take longer than that for the chicken to cool enough to not burn you when you try to eat!).  I like to top it with some salted, dry-roasted peanuts.  Let people add their own.  It makes them feel like they have some measure of control over dinner.  They do not; you rule this kitchen!!
By now, the bones just flop out of their meat blankets.  Just add couscous!  And peanuts.  And maybe a salad?  Or pitas?  Your call.

Thursday, October 10, 2013

Tiny Tart

Ever make a pie and have a little dough left over?  You could use it to decorate the top crust with pretty or lewd shapes, or you can fake a little dessert.  That's what I did.

When I finished assembling my chicken pot pie, I rolled out the little bit of dough I had left and put it on a parchment-lined baking sheet.  Then, guessing at all of the amounts, I topped it with a small handful of berries the Chief Taster had already washed, some granulated sugar, and a little cinnamon.  Maybe some nutmeg.  I don't know, it was back in July.
variation on the naked pie: tiny naked pie.
Fold up the edges around the filling and seal it as best you can.  It will probably leak.  That's ok; you have parchment paper.

Oh, yeah.  That leaked.
I already had the oven going for the chicken pot pie.  I just slipped this on to the other rack and kept an eye on it.  When things looked brown enough (see above, and below), I pulled it out.  Somehow, the Chief Taster managed to arrive within a bout 47 seconds of the tart's extraction.  She ate it before dinner.  I didn't get any.  I guess that means it was good?

aerial view.  Next time, I need enough dough to make two.  Or I just won't tell her about it.

Thursday, October 3, 2013

Pi R Round

During my freshman year of college, when I was begrudgingly adjusting to the cafeteria food (I still blame that diet for preventing me from growing to a full six feet), I sent Mom a postcard.  It told her nothing at all of what I was doing, who my friends were, or when I would be home next.  Instead, I filled the message space with tiny print listing dozens of foods.  Every alternate item was a different kind of pie.  Granted, towards the end I started stretching that definition a little with things like Cheeseburger Pie or Spaghetti Pie, but they were all things Mom had made, and I missed every single one of them.  Oh, how I love pie.  To this day, my Dad calls me every year on March 14 to wish me a happy Pi Day.  He does not always call on my birthday.  I love that man.

In addition to noting my favorite mathematical holidays, Dad also makes a mean chicken pot pie.  This is not his recipe.  It's Betty's.

Chicken Pot Pie
10 oz box frozen peas and carrots (I couldn't find that.  Mine also had corn and lima beans.  Whatever.)
1/3 C butter
1/3 C all-purpose flour
1/3 C chopped onion
1/2 t salt
1/4 t pepper (or 1/2 t.  Suit yourself.  I did.)
1 3/4 C chicken broth
2/3 C milk
2 1/2 to 3 C cut-up cooked chicken
pastry for two-crust pie

First, a little confession/revelation.  I spent several weeks hanging out with Dad back in June/July of this year, and because hanging out with Dad means myriad projects, we made a few trips to the hardware store, and while Dad paid for stuff, I flipped through the Exhibitor's Handbook for our county fair.  They had a stack of them sitting on the counter.  In the category for Pies, there were two main subcategories: With and Without Lard.  This cracked me up.  Then, while making chicken pot pie for the very first time less than a month later, I discovered that I did not have enough shortening to make the two-crust pastry recipe.  Luckily, since we don't have a dog, we collect bacon grease in an old shortening container and store it in the fridge.  I subbed a little bacon grease for shortening, used the customary amount of vegetable oil, and went on my merry way.  The crust turned out pretty well, but I have no idea how much bacon grease was used.  Oops.

Filling for the pie.  Yours won't look like this until the end of step 2.
  1.  Rinse frozen veggies in cold water to separate.  Drain.  Heat oven to 425F
  2. Melt butter in 2 qt saucepan.  Stir in flour (roux!), onion, salt, and pepper.  Stir constantly.  Cook until bubbly.  Remove from heat.  Stir in broth and milk.  Return to heat, bring to a boil, stirring constantly.  Boil and stir one minute (ish).  Add veggies and the bird bits.  Remove from heat.
  3. Betty wants you to make this in a 9" square pan, but it's a PIE, for Pete's sake.  Pies are ROUND.  Roll out a little more than half your dough to fit your pie pan.  Line the pie pan with the dough.  Dump in the filling.
  4. Roll out the rest of the dough.  Betty suggests cutting out pretty shapes, then topping the pie with the cut-out pieces.  My dough was a little too pliable for that.  I was happy that I got the whole thing together.  I'll work on presentation in the future.  Maybe.  As it was, my aim was a little off when I added the top crust, and I had to do a little patch job.  You can see it in the next picture.  It looks a little goofy, but it tasted fine, so I don't care.
  5. Seal the edges.  Make it pretty, if that's your thing.  Bake 35 minutes or until golden brown.
You know what that is.
One more thing: somehow, I ended up with a small handful of leftover pastry.  Check back next week to see what happened to it.