Postponing Christmas Morning Headaches

This Christmas day, we had the pleasure of hosting our entire family, except for my father who is unfortunately too ill to travel. We therefore found ourselves in the enviable position of feeding, gifting, and caring for seven adults ranging in age from 30 to 72, and three children (our own) of ages five, five, and three. If you've ever endeavored to undertake a Christmas dinner, you know how much preparation it takes. How do you balance the final prep and stuff of the turkey -- managing to provide a stout breakfast to hold all until a late afternoon feast -- against the seemingly endless process of each family member individually unwrapping each gift? Here are my suggestions: strata, blood marys, and more bloody marys.

The strata is a lifesaver because you assemble it the day before and simply let it bake while you assemble the virgin bloody mary mix and garnishes. By the time your guests arrive, the aroma of bubbling gruyere will positively waft through your house. I advise assembling the virgin bloody mary mix in a large pitcher before your guests arrive, and adding vodka to suit individual tastes. While you are hustling around prepping the stuffing, ask a reliable family member to mix bloody marys for the family (except the children, although you may be sorely tempted).

Bloody Mary Mix

4 pints best-quality tomato juice (I used three pints Happy Girl dry-farmed with 1 pint Happy Girl spicy)
1 small bottle worcestershire, or more if you like
1/3 bottle of fresh creamed horseradish ( I use Bubbie's)
juice of one lemon
dozen dashes or so celery bitters
adobo sauce to taste
purified olive brine, if you have it
black pepper to taste, freshly ground

Mix well and chill. When it is time to pour, I use Skyy vodka but Smirnoff and Absolut are also fine choices. Go to a fun website like CB2 and invest in 50 or so all-purpose glasses that can be used for bloody marys, flutes, wine, or water glasses. If you hunt for sales, these glasses may be purchased for as little as 2 for 1$. That's a nice investment. No one wants to drink from paper or plastic. Garnish bloody marys with English cucumber spears, or Rick's Picks Smokra if you want to turn up the heat. Our friends Beth and Moira like to add a Hangar One Chipotle vodka float, for a real burn. It's up to you and your reliable friend.

Spinach Strata

My mother has prepared this strata at every holiday breakfast for time out of mind. It is vegetarian, although decidedly not vegan. Add any meat you like, except prosciutto. Prosciutto does not take to heat.

I'm going to give you the single-batch recipe, which will feed three children and four hungry adults. Double the recipe for a crowd. Hint: Pillivuyt bakers are well-priced and sturdy for casseroles etc.

8-10 slices best quality sturdy white bread
5 tbsp. unsalted butter, softened
4 medium shallots, minced
1 10 oz. frozen spinach, thawed and drained
6 oz. gruyere
6 large eggs
1 3/4 cup half and half
1/2 cup dry white wine

Dry the bread slices overnight. If you are pressed for time, dry the slices in a low (225 degree) oven. After the bread has dried, butter one side of each slice.

While bread is drying, or someone in the kitchen is idly drinking, delegate the task of grating the gruyere.

Saute shallots in 2 tbsp. butter. Add the drained spinach, mix, and season with salt and pepper. Set mixture aside. Add wine to hot pan and reduce by half.

Butter an 8" square baking dish, or rectangular equivalent. Layer half of the bread slices on the bottom, butter side up. Sprinkle the bread layer with half of the spinach mixture and and a quarter of the shredded gruyere. Add another layer of buttered bread slice, and repeat the spinach/gruyere sprinkle.

Whisk eggs, add half and half, and add wine reduction. Season with salt and pepper. Pour the egg, half and half, and wine mixture over the bread slices. With very clean hands, push down on the bread so that the egg mixture moistens the top of the the bread slices. Wrap pan loosely but firmly in cling film, and layer the top with a plate or two. Place heavy cans (for example, tomatoes) on top of plates so that the bread stays submerged in the egg mixture. Refrigerate overnight.

The next morning, pull the unbaked strata out of the refrigerator about 20 minutes or so before you want it in the oven. Preheat the oven to 325 degrees. Unwrap the strata and add the other half of the shredded gruyere. Bake for 50-55 minutes, or until top is thoroughly browned and bubbly. Serve hot.

After a slice or two of strata, and a good bloody mary, you will be well equipped to face the rigors of the morning.

Grandmaw Peacock's Chicken and Rice

I don't have a Grandmaw Peacock but Scott Peacock does, and she sure knew how to spin straw into gold, culinarily speaking. If you bless Lee Bailey for his pork chops and rice, as I do, you will surely place Grandmaw Peacock in the same pantheon of home cooking heroes and heroines. Now, listen up. This dish is best cooked on a rainy or snowy cold night, particularly if anyone in the house feels a cold coming on.

You need four basic food items for this recipe: a cut-up chicken, an onion, a stalk of celery, and 1 and 1/3 cup white rice. You'll also need butter, water, and salt - but if you don't have those items on hand at all times, I can't help you.

As Scott Peacock recounts, melt two tablespoons of butter in a large cast-iron Dutch oven. I have a big round one with "30" stamped on the lid from the Le Creuset factory story. Cut up your chicken into 10 pieces and sprinkle liberally with kosher salt. Use a lot of salt; I am not kidding. Toss your chicken pieces in the butter and brown lightly for about five minutes. Use the back, and the neck if you have it, because you will be making stock in which to cook the rice right in that pan. After you have lightly browned the chicken, pop in the onion and celery stalk, cover tightly, and cook over a low heat for about 20 minutes. Add five cups of water and keep at a low-medium simmer for about 35 minutes, with the pot partially covered.

After about 35 minutes, remove the onion and celery and then stir in the rice. Taste the broth - it should be salty. If not, add some salt. Cover the pot tightly and cook for another 30 minutes or so. The rice should be good and soupy, and the chicken should be fork tender. Sprinkle some chopped parsley over the chicken and rice for color. Add a green salad, or some roasted sprouts, for a fine full meal.

Thank you, Grandmaw Peacock.

Mashed Potatoes and Gravy

My mother always says at Thanksgiving to make plenty of mashed potatoes because potatoes are cheap and will stretch out your meal if you run short on turkey. My mother's parents were born and raised during the Great Depression, which I think instilled deep and contradictory influences in my mother's psyche. On the one hand, every Thanksgiving we have vats of mashed potatoes and groaning bowls of stuffing. On the other hand, my mother makes sure each grandchild gets a thick cashmere sweater for Christmas. (Buying a toddler a cashmere sweater is generous but wholly irrational.)

To make really good mashed potatoes, you will need a stout pot, a sturdy masher (avoid the flimsy hootless ones), warm cream or whole milk, and plenty of softened unsalted butter. Choose your potatoes wisely. I am a sucker for the floury Carola but Yukon Golds work very well indeed. I reckon on one pound of potatoes for two good eaters -- this rule of thumb will ensure you are equipped with vats of mashed potatoes. Peel and quarter the potatoes, placing the potatoes as you go into a large pot filled with cold salted water. A sharp peeler is essential here. They cost about $2 and you can usually run out and get one at just about any grocery store. About 45 minutes before dinner time, bring the potatoes to a medium rolling boil until the pieces are easily pierced by a fork. If you see the potatoes are starting to fall apart in the water, you've let them go too long.

Drain the potatoes in a colander and then return to the cooking pot. Turn the flame on low and toss the potatoes gently for a few minutes in the dry pan. This extra drying will give your potatoes a nice fluffy texture. First, mash in the butter (about 1/3 of a stick per pound of potatoes). Add the warm cream or milk slowly, and mash a while longer. When the potatoes are the texture you like, add a few pinches of kosher salt and some cranks of fresh black pepper. Stir into the potatoes with a spoon and taste again. Err on the side of slightly under-salting, because your guests may add salt but they can't subtract it. Keep the finished potatoes in their pot with the lid on, and they should still be warm by dinner time.

You'll make the gravy while the turkey is resting and/or being carved. Pour off most of the fat from the roasting pan and discard. Scrape up any pieces of skin that are stuck to the bottom of the pan, or turn the flame on under the roasting pan and crisp up the skin. Add at least a quart or two of homemade poultry stock to the pan and bring to a boil, scraping up the crusty brown bits studding the pan. I thicken my stock with a slurry, which is to say a medium-sized jar (with lid) filled with half flour and half cold water. Shake the mixture vigorously until foamy, and then shake a little more to be sure you won't get lumps. Once you have slurry, stand over the bubbling pan and make little circles in the center of the pan with a slotted spoon. Pour the slurry into the bubbling broth slowly but surely, continuing to stir the slurry into the gravy with circular motions of your spoon. The slurry will tighten up fairly quickly, so let it bubble away to get rid of the floury taste and keep stirring. If the gravy gets too tight, loosen with a little hot water. Once you have the right consistency, season with salt and pepper. Serve the gravy piping hot.

The Inevitable

Thanksgiving looms. No cooking magazine, blog, or show can resist the corny prose and recipes, a la 'Let's Talk Turkey' or 'Gobbling the Gobbler.' Blech.

We are a tradition-bound family. We always have roast turkey, bread stuffing with sage and onion, mashed potates and gravy, some form of brussel sprouts with bacon or pancetta, cranberry relish, pumpkin pie, and bourbon pecan pie. Occasionally, we add fried corn or corn pudding. One Thanksgiving, I made popovers. My parents drink New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc; Spouse and I drink sparkling rose or Pinot Noir. In the morning, we eat spinach strata and drink spicy Bloody Marys (except for the children). It's really quite a pleasant way to spend a holiday. Come Christmas, we do it all again.

Here are a few things I've learned along the way. The key point is preparation. A tranquil Thanksgiving is the direct result of planning ahead. If you cannot plan ahead, make a reservation at a nice restaurant and let someone else sweat the details. Today, we discuss turkey and stuffing.

1. Buy a very good, fresh turkey - preferably heritage breed. We buy ours from Good Shepherd. If your turkey is frozen, it will need probably three days in the refrigerator to thaw. Turkey is tricky business, germ-wise. Never defrost on the counter or in cold water. The afternoon before Thanksgiving, wash the turkey thoroughly and be sure you remove all bits from the cavity (usually neck and giblets). If you don't have any homemade stock to use for moistening your stuffing and making your gravy, save the giblets for making a quick stock Thanksgiving morning. If you see something small and round with a bluish green tinge, it's probably the gallbladder. Throw it away.

The night before Thanksgiving, rinse the bird under cold water and pat dry inside and out. The chicken must be very dry. Sprinkle the dried turkey with 3-4 tablespoons kosher salt and fresh chopped sage, rosemary, and thyme. Don't salt the cavity. Place on a jelly roll pan lined with wax paper and refrigerate overnight.

On Thanksgiving morning, take the turkey out 45 minutes before you plan to put in the oven. Brush all the herbs and salt off the turkey -- don't rinse. You want the salt to draw moisture out of the skin before roasting. Massage the turkey with room temperature butter. Prepare to stuff.

2. Two days before Thanksgiving, tightly cube the best mushy white bread you can get your hands on. I favor Acme's pain de mie. Leave out all over the counters to dry and to annoy tidy Spouse.

3. On Thanksgiving morning, prepare to stuff the two cavities of the turkey. Melt 2 or 3 sticks of unsalted butter over a gentle flame. You will also bring a quart of homemade chicken or turkey stock to a boil and let cool to room temperature. Finely dice 2 or 3 yellow onions. If you don't have homemade stock, use warm salted water. Spurn commercial stock, and do not be fooled by the slovenly dictum that adding fresh herbs can render commercial stock desirable. Chop at least a cup each of fresh sage, thyme, and rosemary - remember that you may not use it all.

Put the dried cubes of butter into a large bowl or clean small kitchen bag, and add the diced onion and herbs. Also add 2 tablespoons or so of freshly ground black pepper and kosher salt. Mix well and taste to ensure you have the right balance of herbs and spices. If yes, pour the melted butter over the bread cubes and mix well. Taste. Add homemade stock to the mixture, ladleful by ladleful. You want the stuffing to be wet but not dripping. Save any leftover stock for making gravy. Once the nascent stuffing is to your taste, place into both cavities. Don't overstuff -- you want hot air to circulate in the cavities to bring the stuffing up to its proper temperature. You may secure the stuffing in the breast cavity either by sewing the cavity shut or by placing a heel of bread in the cavity to seal it, or both. I like to use a heel of bread because I can throw the heel to the hungry nibblers who plague me when I remove the stuffing from the roasted turkey. You know who you are.

4. There likely will be leftover stuffing, which you should refrigerate and convert to dressing. 'Dressing' is cooked alongside the turkey rather than in it. Be sure to refrigerate the stuffing until about an hour before the turkey is due to come out of the oven. If you have only one oven, it is possible to make the dressing after the turkey has been removed from the oven and is resting. Place the dressing in a bowl, generously squirt drippings on it, cover, and place in a 350 degree oven to warm and meld with the drippings. Continue to lavish with drippings until the dressing is piping hot. This procedure should equate to the resting time for the turkey.

5. While the turkey is roasting, watch the skin carefully. Because of the liberal butter massage, the skin will brown quickly. Be sure to cover loosely with foil until the last 15 minutes or so, to prevent burning.

6. Remove turkey from oven. Quickly remove stuffing from both cavities and keep hot. If you don't have an auxiliary oven, place stuffing in covered pyrex bowls and wrap tightly with newspaper. Let turkey rest for at least 20 minutes before carving.

Next, sides!

Utility Cooking Days

Almost every weekend finds me playing catch-up on kitchen staples: chicken stock; tomato sauce; bread crumbs; ricotta cheese (new to homemade ricotta but loving it). Today is a rainy San Francisco day, just right for slow roasting a big cut of meat and making chicken stock. For the roast, I'm trying Bruce Aidell's 9-hour pork shoulder, except I had to take the skin off because it was too tough to score. We'll see how it turns out, but so far it's been in a 250 degree oven for 6 hours and it looks and smells fantastic.

The food notes for today, however, are not about pig but chicken stock. I can't tell you how much I abhor commercial stocks, even the organic low-sodium ones. I never use them -- I'd rather use lightly salted water and butter (I think I might be quoting Michael Ruhlman here but I'm not sure). It is absurd that people actually spend time telling you how to doctor commercial stock when you could make actual stock in not much more time. So, here's my stock. There are plenty of recipes and the best one is the one that works for you.

Roast chicken and roast guinea hen are in regular rotation at our house, so those are the carcasses I use. I usually spatchcock the guinea hen, so I save the raw backbone and feet, if attached. For some reason, I can never use the heads. If you can, do it. Wrap the raw bones, feet, etc. in foil, place in plastic freezer bag, and freeze. Use within a month or two. Save also any roasted carcasses, presumably stripped of most of the meat. I usually double bag roasted carcasses and freeze for up to two months.

For the meat, therefore, I start with a mix of frozen raw and frozen cooked meat. I rinse the meat in cold water and place at the bottom of a large stock pot. A note on equipment is in order: I use a Sitram stock pot because you want tall and narrow. I find most American stockpots too wide to reduce stock efficiently. More on reducing later. Cover the meat and bones with cold fresh water by at least two inches. Put stockpot on a high burner while you prep the vegetables.

I use leeks (2-3), peeled yellow onion (1), carrots (2-3), celery (2 stalks), and a bouquet garni. Peel the carrots and trim the ends. Use white and light green part of leeks only. Be sure to wash the leeks well because they can be very muddy. I split them in half and rinse under running water, separating the layers. Chop the carrots, celery, and leeks into rough chunks. Depending on the size of the onion, halve it or quarter it. Place prepped vegetables on a plate or tray. For the bouquet garni, combine in cheesecloth one sprig thyme, one or two fresh parsley stems, one or two bay leaves (dried is fine), and a few white or black peppercorns. Tie securely with twine.

Let the water in the stockpot come to a sustained rolling boil, so that lots of lovely, nasty meat scum rises to the top. Turn the flame down, skim off the scum, and add your vegetables and bouquet garni to the water. Add a sprinkle of kosher salt and adjust the flame so that your proto-stock remains at a gentle but steady simmer. I like to see a handful of small bubbles every time I look into the pot but don't worry too much about it. I'd rather have a little more activity in the pot than less.

I let my stock bubble away for at least two hours and not more than four. I do agree with Judy Rodgers that once you turn off the burner, get the bones and other solids out of the stock immediately -- otherwise the stock can taste dirty. I use a large strainer to scoop out the solids and place directly into plastic bags for the garbage can. After the stock cools, I strain it through cheesecloth (wet cheesecloth placed in and carefully covering a large handheld strainer) into a large bowl. If you're in a hurry to cool the stock, prepare an ice bath for the stockpot. I have an enormous stainless steel bowl from Ikea that I picked up for about $7. Works like a charm. Put lots of ice in the bottom of the bowl and add some water. Place the stockpot directly into the ice water bath and stir gently. The stock should cool down in about 10 minutes. Strain as described above.

Taste your stock. If it's flavorful enough to use a base for soup, you're done. If not, scrub out your stockpot and put the strained broth back in. Bring to a boil, and then simmer gently until it is to your taste. The flavors will concentrate as they reduce. I advise you not to add salt at this stage because the saltiness will intensify during reduction as well. You can always add salt to whatever dish in which you plan to use the stock. Once finished, let stock cool for immediate use or for freezing (the ice water bath trick works here, too). Skim off any fat and freeze the stock in 1- quart and 1-cup containers. This combination lets me easily figure out how much stock to thaw for a recipe. I regularly have at least four quarts of stock on hand. When thawing stock for use, always bring to a boil before adding to a recipe. On another safety note, don't refreeze thawed stock -- just make a quick soup by simmering minced fresh vegetables in the leftover stock and adding any cooked grains or meat you have on hand.

Living Off Your Larder

Listen: Strains from Hardy Strictly Bluegrass
Drink: Water

Spouse took the children to a birthday party this afternoon, so I took the opportunity to use up some items languishing in our larder: a few German Butterball potatoes in the pantry; some baked chicken breasts in the fridge already used for weeknight salads for the adults and a few chicken quesadillas for the under-six crowd; a cup or so of some dry wild rice mix. The result was potato gratin and creamy chicken soup.

Potato Gratin

The recipe for potato gratin is based on the version set forth in Alice Waters' In The Green Kitchen. My gratin pan is smaller than the 14 inch pan used in the cook book recipe, and I reversed the proportion of homemade chicken stock to cream in addition to using less liquid and fewer potatoes. The gratin relies primarily on starch from the potatoes for its texture, and the Butterballs worked better than previous attempts with Carolas and Yukon Golds. This time, I also used my mother's hand-me-down junior mandoline for very thin, uniform slices. The recipe basically calls for you to (1) simmer chicken stock, cream, salt, and bay leaf; (2) while layering thinly sliced, peeled potatoes in a buttered gratin pan. Heat the oven to 375 degrees, assemble the gratin by layering the potato slices over each other like rooftop shingles, and gently pour the stock and cream around the sides of the pan until it comes about 3/4 up the side and rolls over the top of the potatoes when you press gently on the top with a spatula. I top with a sprinkle of kosher salt and a few grinds of white pepper. Cover tightly with foil and bake for 30 minutes.

After 30 minutes, remove the foil from the gratin and crank up the heat to 400 degrees. Sprinkle chopped fresh thyme over the top, along with a little more salt and pepper, and let it bubble away until nicely browned on top.

Creamy Chicken Soup

Because I was guessing at the right amount of liquid for the gratin, I had about a cup of cream and stock left over from the gratin. I also had two cups of plain stock left over, because I tend to put up stock in quarts. Bring plain stock to a boil, then simmer with finely diced carrot, celery, and leek (for this amount of liquid, I used one carrot, one celery stalk, and one leek). When the vegetables are just tender, add chopped cooked chicken and the stock/cream combination. Add a scoop or two of the cooked wild rice, and bring back up to a simmer. Beat one tablespoon softened butter with one tablespoon flour, and whisk into the simmering soup. Let soup simmer long enough to thicken and to get rid of any floury taste. A splash of good sherry would be a welcome addition. This soup is a family favorite, especially with thick slices of toasted challah bread.

Enjoy.

Grind Your Own

In response to one of my recent Facebook rants (entreaties?), I received many requests for instructions on how to grind your own meat for burgers. The grind also works for meatballs, meatloaf -- whenever you use ground meat (beef, lamb, or pork -- though please note that I didn't grind my own goat for the previously mentioned goat loaf so I don't know if this method will work as well for goat meat, which tends to be stringier).

There are huge benefits to grinding your own, including: (1) you avoid this (details of mass ground meat production that are not for the weak of tummy): http://tinyurl.com/ydxv5ak; (2) you know exactly where your burgers are coming from; and (3) a freshly ground burger tastes better than you ever imagined a burger could taste. One note: I prefer grass-fed beef both for its taste and because ruminants are, well, ruminants. Plants are what cattle are designed to eat. Having said that, Niman Ranch puts out an acceptable ground beef from cattle that are finished on corn. Niman thinks the corn finished cattle taste better. I don't agree -- but I have eaten, and fed my family, Niman Ranch burgers from some of the enlightened fast-food burger joints around San Francisco.

Get your cuisinart out, fit it with the standard metal blade, and sharpen your cook's knife. For most ground beef needs, you are probably going to want to purchase a chuck roast or two, depending on how many burgers you are planning to cook. Some chefs also swear by brisket or bottom round but I've not tried those cuts for home grinding. A 3-lb. chuck roast is going to yield roughly 6-9 burgers, depending on how big you like them. I prefer a 1/3 lb. patty. Again, purchase "pastured grass-fed beef" (these are the key concepts) from producers you know and trust. If you don't know the producers in your area, ask your butcher where the meat came from. If he doesn't know, you need to ask the real butcher or find a new butcher. Also check with your local CSA to see who is sustainably raising cattle in the area.

If the chuck roast has quite a lot of fat, you may wish to trim some off before grinding. Be careful not to take all the fat off, though, because the fat is where the flavor is. I think 80% lean to 20% fat is about right, but it really is up to you and the state of your cholesterol. (Off the charts is the alleged 60/40 ratio of In N Out's Double Double burger.) With the home grind, just look for a relatively even distribution of fat throughout the meat. There is no call here to convert your kitchen to a science lab.

Now you've trimmed any fat you are going to trim and you are ready to grind. At this stage, you have two options. You can stick the whole cut of meat in the freezer for about 45 minutes and then cut it into roughly 2-3 inch chunks for the cuisinart. I prefer to cut the meat into chunks before the freezer visit because it cuts down on the time in the freezer. The objective in lightly freezing the meat is to ensure the meat doesn't liquefy during grinding. I find it useful to lay out a small bowl containing any spices or other flavorings I want to add to the ground meat (kosher salt and freshly ground pepper are my usual) and a chilled metal bowl large enough to mix the seasonings with your meat. If you are going directly from grind to grill, have a prep tray (I use one or two jelly roll pans lined with wax paper) ready to go: one pan for the patties and one for your buns and other condiments for the grill (olive oil or melted butter for brushing the buns, gypsy peppers and onions for grilling, slices of gruyere or other cheese for crowning the hot patty). Onions take a while to caramelize on the grill, so you may want to start them before the burgers. I always douse the onions with good but not fine olive oil and a sprinkle of kosher salt. You also can jump start the onions in the microwave but it does make for a stiff smell in the kitchen. Check The Zuni Cafe cookbook for other great condiment options, such as quick zucchini pickles and pickled red onions.

Now, we grind. You need a light hand with your cuisinart. A few short hits on "Pulse" should do the trick but it pays to be careful here. Pop the top off and check that you are getting a suitable grind with even fat distribution. If you see any big chunks of gristle, pull out and discard. You may have to grind the meat in batches depending on the size of your cuisinart. I am using "cuisinart" generically for any food processor but the big C Cuisinart is the one I know. If you have another kind of food processor, this method should work but keep a closer eye on the process until you know how your machine works for this task. I imagine a professional Robot Coupe could present you with tartare soup in a heartbeat.

Place your ground meat in the chilled bowl and add your seasonings. You could add worcestershire sauce, adobo sauce, smoked minced onions -- the sky is the limit but keep in mind that you may want a control batch to determine if you are getting the right fat to lean ratio and the right grind. Mix the seasonings into the meat gingerly -- I use the 'claw' method (my very clean hand with fingers held rigidly apart and curved). After the mixing, scoop up the meat and gently pat into a ball. My hands are small, so a large handful for me results in about a 1/3 lb patty. The seasoned veterans at Nicky's in Chattanooga swear that you need to sling the ball of meat from hand to hand before shaping into a patty or else the patty will fall apart. So, I do the slinging thing because I am not one to argue with the ladies at Nicky's. Most of them have been slinging patties before I was born. Regardless of whether you choose to sling, place the ball onto the waxed paper of the patty tray and gently push down on the patty while pressing gently on the perimeter of the patty as you push so that your edges are nice and smooth.

Once you shape the patties, slap 'em on a medium-hot grill fired with hardwood charcoal. Be sure to oil the grate or the patty will stick. Try to flip only once but stop trying to flip if the patty sticks. Put the cheese on the patty after the flip. If you want medium rare, sling an inverted tinfoil pie plate on the burger to get the cheese properly melted. Serve immediately, passing the burger goodies at table and licking the juice off your elbow. Get the grind.

Soylent Green?

Here's a photo, courtesy of Slow Food USA, showing the contents of a recent public high school lunch. Could someone please tell me what this box of junk is? Bonus points for creativity. In all seriousness, the state of our nation's lunch box is a disgrace. We have to break the Sysco chain and get school gardens going. Easier said than done, right?

Our children didn't win the San Francisco public school lottery, but our bad luck is somewhat mitigated by the fact that their private school serves hot lunches to pre-K and K students. But what happens when you have to pack a lunch -- a lunch that sits for hours in a stuffy locker or cubby? And forget peanut butter and jelly, because most schools sensibly ban peanut butter on premises. (We know a child with peanut allergies so severe that he could die if exposed -- the inconvenience is worth a life.) If you're lucky, your child(ren) will love sunflower butter and your problems will be solved. Our children hate sunflower butter, and sandwiches generally, so we are forced to creativity. Here's my best advice -- I would love to hear from others.

Tools needed include: (1) a lunch box or tote that allows one or two small blocks of blue ice to efficiently chill the food space; (2) a reusable water bottle (BPA-free); and (3) a small thermos with lid that can double as a cup.

As I said before, sandwiches are a no-go for our kindergarteners. Older kids may love them, so just be sure to chill any sandwiches with meat or mayo by using the blue ice. Our kids like sliced organic ham or turkey in rolls, with whole wheat bread on the side, and cheese sticks. They are also crazy for tomatoes so, in season, we include small boxes of washed cherry tomatoes (sweet 100s are wonderful). "Dipping sauces" are also a fun condiment. My spouse has convinced the children that honey mustard is a "dipping sauce." I resist the urge to mock, however, because Spouse also has gotten the older children to eat green goddess dressing (with anchovies) by passing it off as a dipping sauce. I once fed the family goat loaf -- meat loaf made with, yes, ground goat meat -- by adding an extra thick ketchup glaze to the top, but I digress. At any rate, consider including a "dipping sauce" in a separate container.

Riffing on a recent idea in the SF Chronicle, you also could stuff an Early Girl or dry-farmed tomato for a good lunch. (These tomatoes are small, currently in season, and intense in flavor.) Slice off the top and scoop out most of the seeds and watery stuff. Sprinkle with sea salt and turn upside down on a paper towel to drain while you get other stuff ready. Beat together cream cheese, farmers' cheese, or goat cheese with a little soft butter and whatever chopped fresh herbs you can get away with. If kept chilled, the tomato cup may be eaten out of hand like a messy apple. Our kids also love cold bread and butter pickles, so that's another good idea for a separate container. They like a little salt, so sweet potato chips are a good pick and have more nutritional value than ordinary chips.

If your child likes sushi, a couple of vegetarian rolls would make a great lunch. I don't recommend raw or cooked fish in a lunch box environment -- it just seems too risky. Other options include cold noodles with sliced cooked pork or chicken; hummus; falafel; pita bread; carrot sticks; and any combination thereof. Bagels with cucumber, farmers' cheese, and tomatoes also have been a hit. My oldest son loves soup. The last time I made turkey and rice soup, he said, "Soup makes me happy when the day is all angry." (This is the only cute kid comment in this post, I promise.) Soup is where the thermos comes in handy -- hot soup in the morning should still be warm by lunch time; just don't put the thermos with the chilled items.

Good luck!

When Vegetarians Crash Your Cook-Out

Listen: Joni Mitchell, Miles of Aisles
Drink: Tecate or Negra Modelo

My latest posts have prompted several questions (online and off) about what to feed vegetarians at a cook-out. I can speak with some authority on this topic, since we have enjoyed many a blaze-up with the beloved vegetarian godmothers to our children. (See? Some of my best friends are vegetarians.)

Communication is critical to harmony between the carnivores and vegetarians. Initially, you must determine whether the vegetarians will vomit, turn green, or go into anaphylactic shock at the sight or smell of raw meat. One of the godmothers got a bit wobbly in the knees when she spied the tub of rendered duck fat in my refrigerator. You also should inquire whether your friends are vegan -- if so, you must also skip dairy products. If there is a 'yes' answer to any of the foregoing, consider scrapping your grilling plans and booking reservations at your favorite Indian restaurant. If you are determined to entertain your vegetarian friends nonetheless, read on.

If you are using a charcoal grill, and I do recommend charcoal over gas, then you may have to buy a new grate for your grill. Your vegetarian guests likely will not appreciate the seasoning of delicious animal fat that clings to your current grate. In fact, it's not a bad idea to keep a separate "no-meat" grate around if you think this is the start of a happy friendship. Once you have your no-meat grill ready to go, decide on the menu. I always think Mexican-style is the most fun. If you are lucky enough to live in a city with a Mexican population, go to a good Mexican grocery for absolutely fresh, steaming up the bag, flour and corn tortillas. If no vegans, also pick up some delicious crema and cotija cheese for furnishing the tacos (hell, get it for yourselves anyway -- if hysteria ensues at the sight of dairy products, that vegan might be crazy enough to rip out your herb garden in a misguided rescue operation).

What to grill? I suggest rajas, essentially roasted poblano peppers with white onions. The incomparable Rick Bayless (expert on all edible things Mexican) suggests you roast the peppers and then add a saute of onion, garlic, and oregano to the roasted, peeled peppers. I have had good success omitting the garlic and simply roasting the peppers and onions over the grill (peppers to be be peeled and seeded in the kitchen), and adding a little oil and oregano at the end. I once received a huge bunch of fresh oregano from my local CSA, which I tied with twine and hung upside down in my garage until fully dried. The freshly dried oregano was a revelation. If you're buying already dried, look for Mexican oregano -- Rancho Gordo sells it online.

You will definitely need a fresh salsa. One of my favorites is grilled tomatillo salsa. Tomatillos (actually not a tomato but a type of gooseberry) are probably the original tomates, and they are delicious. I grill a skewer of fresh tomatillos, husked and rinsed; a skewer of ordinary red tomatoes; a skewer of white onion chunks; and a skewer of fresh garlic cloves, peeled. I also grill a skewer of jalapenos or serranos, to be peeled and seeded in the kitchen. Once blistered and charred, pop all of the ingredients into a blender, and add lime juice and salt to taste. Keep it chunky -- don't over-blend. Cilantro would be a nice addition, too. The salsa should be eaten immediately, although it will keep for a day in the fridge -- but make it in real time for the show.

Note: Please use powder free food prep gloves when peeling and seeding the chiles. The best way is to toss the hot charred chilies into a ziplock bag and let them steam away for a few minutes. Remove from bag and rub outer skins with paper towels. The skin should peel away easily. Simply pull or brush away the seeds. Also, for skewers, I think it is worth the splurge to buy the stainless steel square (not round) skewers. The fact that the skewers are squared means you can turn them more easily on the grill, and the fact that they are steel means that the food cooks more quickly because of the heat from the inside.

Assembly: Crack another can of beer, with a squirt of lime for the Tecate if you prefer. Grill the tortillas, add the rajas, and top with crema and freshly made salsa. Crumble cotija cheese over the taco. Eat.

Additions that also would be delicious: (1) a freshly made pot of black beans or pinto beans; and (2) a vinegary slaw. Ideas for these additions coming soon.

Butter Bourbon Barbecue Sauce

Listen: "Stephanie Says" (Velvet Underground)
Drink: Fat Squirrel Ale

I believe I may have perfected this sauce. It is NOT a regional sauce, which is probably good because it can rest on its own laurels without the burden of ancient pedigrees and disputes. Is beef barbecue? Should you sauce or not? Should the sauce have a base of vinegar or tomato? Chances are you like best whatever barbecue you were raised on, but I say taste 'em all.

As I've said before, I cook by hand, so this is my best guess at proportions. Make it how you like it.

I Vidalia or other sweet onion, minced
stick of unsalted butter
2 tbsp. kosher salt
white pepper
1/3 cup honey
1/3 cup bourbon
2 tbsp. molasses
chipotle powder to taste (you might find yourself adding more because the base is sweet)
2 tsp. mustard powder
dash or two worcestershire sauce
most of a bottle of ketchup
ketchup water, possibly

I tossed the minced onion in the butter, adding a hefty pinch of kosher salt and a few grinds of white pepper. After I scalded the onions in the butter, I lowered the heat and added the honey and the bourbon and just let it bubble around -- almost like making bourbon candy. If you do it right, the onions won't melt into the sauce after all is said and done.

I then added what I had left of a ketchup bottle to the pot, plus the last glug of some strained tomatoes I had previously used to make a quick pasta sauce. I then added the molasses. The mixture seemed rather thick, so I put about a third of a cup of water in the used-up ketchup bottle, shook vigorously, and added the ketchup water. I then added the rest of the ingredients and brought to a gentle boil. Adjust for seasoning, and let cool before serving alongside pork.

Roast Pork Loin

Listen: Jimmy Webb & Linda Ronstadt, "All I Know"
Drink: Rye Manhattan (Old Overholt Rye and Carpano Antica vermouth, with orange bitters and a twist)

Before we came up north, I arranged for butchery and delivery of several hefty pieces of pasture-raised meat. I intended to order two bone-in pork butts, three racks of ribs, and a turkey. I received the butts and the turkey, one rack of ribs, and two whole pork loins. What follows is a recitation of my first attempt to cook an entire pork loin.

The first thing you need to know is that an entire bone-in pork loin is a mother-huge piece of meat. I didn't weigh it because I never get on scales, and wouldn't know where to find a scale even if my svelte Spouse had consented to clutch that unwieldy piece of meat to her moderate bosom. To boot, my preparation of the loin was foiled by the presence of the chine bone and the feather bones (I think -- I have yet to be initiated into the mysteries of butchery). I promptly took the loin to our local, friendly butcher, who (without charge and a big smile for my toddler's "Praise the Lard" tee shirt) made the loin all nice for roasting. I consulted James Beard's American Cookery for roasting times and ideas for preparation. The only useful thing I learned is that the loin should roast in a 325 degree oven, and that I should count on approximately 23 minutes roasting time per pound. This bit of advice was largely wasted on me, however, because I willfully remained in ignorance of the loin's total weight.

I decided to move towards Italy in terms of taste. I trimmed the excess fat on top of the loin and made several deep incisions over the top of the loin. I made a paste of lemon zest from one whole lemon, two tbsp. lemon juice, minced red garlic, olive oil, chopped fresh rosemary, kosher salt, and white pepper. I inserted splinters of red garlic and bay leaves into each incision, and rubbed the paste over the entire loin, top and bottom. For good measure, I added a sprinkling of freshly ground white pepper and kosher salt overall. I covered the whole with wax paper and refrigerated for the duration of a summer nap (approximately one hour) plus reading time (approximately another hour). Longer is better for the marinating, so nap or read a bit longer if desired.

I let the meat bask at room temperature while I preheated our cranky gas oven to 450. After about a half hour of basking, I popped the meat into a 450 degree oven in order to get the "sizzle" going, a la Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall. After another half hour, I turned the oven down to 325 degrees and added two glasses of good white wine to the pan. I then waited. Nothing much seemed to be happening. By now, it was about 4 o'clock in the afternoon -- all good. I parboiled a bag of red creamer potatoes that my mother-in-law bought from the local mega-mart. There was a graph on the outside of the bag that indicated each potato could be eaten in two bites. Who thinks up these things?

Approximately an hour and a half before we wanted to eat, I ladled the parboiled potatoes around the roast, carefully rolling each potato in fat. I waited some more, and scootered with the children in the driveway. About 30 minutes from the desired eating time, my roast was still 20 degrees behind where it needed to be, and the two-bite potatoes were unpleasantly crunchy. I cranked the oven up to 400 degrees.

To shorten the story, we ate approximately 45 minutes later than I deemed desirable. The children ate too many crackers with cheese and the adults consumed too much wine. Neither event was unprecedented in our respective households. On the other hand, both the roast and the potatoes browned up nicely. While the roast was resting, I poured the excess fat from the pan and added approximately two cups homemade chicken stock. I brought the juices and stock to boil, adjusted for seasoning, reduced, and again adjusted the seasoning. I carved the roast into chops except for the plates intended for the children, who are not good with bones. I carved the childrens' portions into rough medallions and piled the extra rib bones on the adults' plates. I smashed the potatoes roughly with butter and salt, and ladled the jus over the potatoes.

Keeps for at least three days in the refrigerator, and reheats nicely paired with rice cooked in chicken stock and butter, and do add some crispy broccoli florets to the plate.

Smoking a Pork Butt

Listen: Boats in the lake and children laughing
Drink: Ice water, ice water, beer, ice water, ice water, gin and tonic


Last night, we got our elbows juicy during our annual chopped pork sandwich feast. In our family, this is the culinary equivalent to the Super Bowl. Pork butts are discussed and selected weeks ahead. We got ours this year from The Good Shepherd Farm near Wausau, and she was a beauty. I estimate she was about 10 lbs, bone-in, with a nice marbling of fat throughout.

The day before smoking day, assemble your rub. I use paprika (not smoked) as a base and generally add chili powder, dry mustard, sugar, salt, white pepper, chipotle or cayenne powder, cumin, powdered onion or garlic, and ground sage. Pull out your pork, rinse under cold water, and pat dry. Examine carefully for blood cuts or bruises, and excise these if you see them. I also take off (per Mike Mills) any hard fat that won't render down during the smoke. A good pork butt should have plenty of fat marbled through the meat, so you don't need a great deal of fat on top of the meat. Sprinkle the pork butt all over with the rub, but for heaven's sake, don't rub the meat with the rub lest you clog the pores of the meat and prevent the smoke from penetrating. Right before you go to bed, toss chunks of hickory and apple wood into a large bucket of water to soak overnight. You can use chips if you can't find chunks, but the chips are too fussy and require too much tending in my book. You can usually find the chunks in any good hardware store.

It's also helpful before game day to make sure your grill is nice and clean. Shovel out all accumulated charcoal dust from the bottom, and empty the ash pan.

On game day, you have to get up early. A big butt will take 10-12 hours (if not more) to smoke low and slow. I can never get the meat on before 8, and the children can't wait much past 7 to eat, which is why I slice and chop the pork rather than pull it. Also, the Hy's barbecue sandwich from my youth was always chopped, so chopped feels more like the real deal to me.

Back to game day -- pull the butt out of the refrigerator while you are preparing the coals. I use an extra large chimney starter to get the coals (lump hardwood only, please) started. My father-in-law has an extra large Weber with gadgets built in to keep the charcoal to the side. If you don't have those fancy charcoal holders (you can buy them as well), just shove the hot coals to one side so that you have enough room for a large rectangular pan full of water on the other half of the bottom grill. Add hot coals and wet hickory and apple chunks over the coals. Place the meat fat side down on the top grill, positioned over the pan of water. Put the top on the grill and start playing with the top and bottom vents until you get the temperature to about 250 degrees. It will start off hot and level off. The bottom vent is your real control over the fire -- the top to a lesser extent. It usually takes my grill about 30 minutes to get down to temperature.

Smoke at around 250 degrees for about 10-12 hours. After the first hour, flip the meat over so that the fat flap is on the top. Occasionally, you may need to flip the meat but try to keep the fat side up more often than not. I have an auxiliary mini-Weber plus mini chimney starter in which I keep live coals going at all times. Ensure that the temp stays at 250 degrees to 300 degrees, and that smoke is always coming out of the top vent. After the meat starts to brown on the outside, spritz with apple juice or white wine each time you fuss with the meat.

After the meat is how you like it (180 degrees or so if you want to pull the bone clean out of the pork), wrap in foil for half hour to let steam while you get the rest of your fixings together. After about a half hour of steaming, unwrap the meat and slice and chop, or pull, the pork. Spoon the meat onto a white trash hamburger bun (no whole wheat or gourmet buns need apply), and top with slaw and dill pickle slices. Pass the sauces separately, on the side, and pile in extra napkins. We find that we have no appetite for sides except for sliced tomatoes, and Nana's rhubarb pie.

If you need sauces, look at Shuck Beans, Stack Cakes, & Honest Fried Chicken for the South Carolina style marinade. Or, you can try the sauce we enjoyed this summer: saute half a minced onion in 3 tbsp. melted butter; add a half bottle of Heinz organic ketchup; add half cup or so white vinegar; half cup or so brown sugar; quarter cup Jack Daniels bourbon; 2 tbsp. molasses; pinch cayenne powder, salt, and white pepper.

Enjoy!

Grilled Stone Fruit Salad

Grilling stone fruit for a salad is a revelation, and an absolute godsend if you have any under-ripe fruit. Tonight, to go with Grandpa's traditional Sunday night hamburgers, we added firm peach halves to the vegetable tray on the grill -- alongside the onions.

Grilled stone fruit salad:

any stone fruit (peaches, nectarines, plums etc. -- i.e., any fruit with a pit)
any fresh greens you have on hand
grill the pitted, halved stone fruit until soft and browned
toss the greens in vinaigrette (a red wine vinaigrette with a dash of balsamic vinegar is nice here)
any blue cheese but preferably an aged one, such as a true Roquefort or a Reblochon
toasted nuts (hazelnuts or pecans are particularly good)

Toss with cheese and nuts, and serve. Guaranteed to dress up any hamburger.

Easy Sides

Sorry I have been shirking my duties here, but we have just completed our yearly pilgrimage to the family lake house in the northern woods of Wisconsin. And we didn't let little things like tornadoes and lightning storms get in our way. After enduring a three-hour layover in the Minneapolis airport (without the benefit of the little playground in C terminal -- closed for repairs!), as well as a two-hour delay to wait out the weather, we finally gave up and rented a car. We got here eventually, driving mostly along the country routes described so well in Jean Shepherd's Ollie Hopnoodle's Haven of Bliss.

At the lake house, we usually find ourselves building meals around the grill. We smoke turkeys, ribs, and pork butts. We grill chicken, brats, beef and pork loins, and hamburgers. And we also find ourselves searching for easy side dishes that don't involve a lot of time in the hot kitchen.

Sliced tomatoes and fresh sweet corn are, of course, the most generous sides -- giving so much flavor for so liitte effort. The tomatoes require only a sprinkling of sea salt to render them delicious. If you can find fresh mozzarella and some basil, then you've got the makings for a caprese salad. Just layer, and drizzle with very fresh, high-quality olive oil. I avoid the basil buds and tear the basil rather than chop it with a knife. The steel of the knife does seem to turn the basil dark along the cut.

As for corn, I have grilled it on occasion but find that it deters from the texture if the corn is really fresh. With fresh corn, I simply steam/boil the trimmed ears in a couple of inches of salted water. It's okay to stack the ears up in the pan but you must put a lid on the pan or the top ears won't steam. To keep the corn sweet after you buy, immediately wrap the ears in a paper bag and wet the bag thoroughly. Stick the dripping wet bag of corn in a tall kitchen bag and stash in the refrigerator until ready to cook. This treatment will help prevent the sugar in the corn from converting to starch. Buy heavy ears with good-looking tassels, but don't be one of those people who pull down the silk to check the tops. It leaves the violated ear looking spoiled and unappetizing. (I always buy one extra ear to be safe, though.) And don't be alarmed if you find a worm. As the country lady who sold Silver Queen corn in the Tennessee summers of my childhood told me, "Honey, if the worms don't like it, you won't either."

If you've left the corn too long, or you accidentally buy starchy corn, you can mitigate the damage by slicing the corn off the cob and gently sauteing in unsalted butter with a pinch of salt and a couple of pinches of white sugar. In the same vein, if the tomatoes are not all that they ought to be, I recommend a slow roast in the oven with a little olive oil and salt. You could even swap the olive oil for butter and add a pinch of sugar to the tomatoes if you wanted to caramelize them. Sweet roasted tomatoes are particularly delicious with grilled country bread lightly brushed with olive oil.

Enjoy.

The Living Is Easy

Listen: Verve Remixed, 2, "Black Is The Color Of My True Love's Hair"
Sip: Bombay Dry Gin, Healthy splash of Q Tonic, 1 wedge lime squeezed

When the weather's warm, there's only one dish I ever feel like hanging out over a hot oven for, and that's fried chicken. Now, there's serious fried chicken where you break down whole chickens and soak the pieces overnight in buttermilk and tabasco, and then dredge in seasoned flour and fry in lard. That's an effort, though worth its weight in gold. Don't forget to add a slice of Benton's country ham to the pan while frying.

In the summer, though, I just get lazy. My children won't eat the dark pieces, and Spouse complains that she is forced to wolf down practically the whole chicken because those children don't appreciate me, damn it, but do her jeans look any tighter from the back? So, there are times when even the most impassioned and committed of cooks, which I am god knows, even though I am occasionally misguided, resort to the boneless, skinless chicken breast and bread crumbs. So, here's a good trick from which you can derive two meals: homemade chicken fingers for the children and fried chicken salad for the grown-ups.

For the chicken fingers:

4 boneless, skinless half breasts -- best quality, but be warned that the finest producers aren't selling just the breasts
about 2 cups bread crumbs (preferably homemade from your larder but store-bought panko will do)
2-3 eggs, beaten
salt and pepper,
peanut or canola oil

Trim excess fat and silver skin off the breasts, excise the tendon on the tender, and cut away tender
Cut into rough strips, salt and pepper
Dip chicken (including tenders) into eggs, then roll in bread crumbs, pressing the crumbs into the chicken
Fry in about 1/4 inch hot oil over medium-high heat until cooked through

Serve hot to children with honey mustard sauce and lots of vegetables
(Please do not go out and buy honey mustard for this occasion if you already have both mustard and honey in your larder. Just mix them together until they taste good. If you only have some funky green scallion garlic mustard type thing, however, you're in for a trip to the store. Dijon or regular stone ground mustard is called for here.)

For the adults, buy or pick the freshest most tender lettuce available. Get the best tangy blue cheese you can (Maytag Blue, Point Reyes Blue, and Amish Blue are all good choices), You don't really want an aged blue here. Look for whatever produce seems best. French radishes are delicious, and crisp green beans also would be good. Chives are essential. If you think about it ahead of time, soak some red onion slices in salted cold water the night before. Soaking removes the harsh flavor and sweetens the reds up.

Make a simple vinaigrette (red wine vinegar, dijon, best quality olive oil (I love anything Katz -- same for the vinegar), Maldon sea salt, freshly ground white pepper). Toss the lettuce well with vinaigrette and vegetables. Warm the chicken strips. Crumble in the blue cheese and toss again. Plate the salad and arrange the warm chicken fingers on top. You can gently toss the strips into the plated salad by hand, but be careful you don't lose the breading.

After your gin and tonic, you may want to switch to a glass of cold white wine -- an un-oaked chardonnay, such as a Macon Villages, is very good with the salad.

Cookbook Love

What's the first cookbook you ever fell in love with? Oh, sure, everyone has their favorite utility infielders -- the cookbooks you go to when you need a bit of sensible advice -- but I'm not asking about those kinds. I'm asking about the kind of cookbook that you curl up with like a good novel.

I had two first loves: Edna Lewis' The Taste of Southern Cooking and Ronni Lundy's Shuck Beans, Stack Cakes, and Honest Fried Chicken. Now, these two cookbooks are both about Southern cooking but the trait they share most strikingly is that they tell good stories about good times. And I'm quite sure you read this blog because you are also of the view that good times always involve good cooking. Miss Lewis' food memories from Freetown convey the bounty that her family and community pulled from the land around them, and each menu is described in rich prose. A simple "Cool-Evening Supper" is composed of Summer Vegetable Soup, Store Soda Crackers, Ham Biscuits, Cucumber Pickles, Tyler Pie, and Coffee. Now, when I read this, I had no idea what a Tyler Pie was, but I sure wanted to eat one. And, atheist though I am, I would happily sit through a day's worth of preaching to get to the Sunday Revival Dinner: Baked Virginia Ham, Southern Fried Chicken, Braised Leg of Mutton, Sweet Potato Casserole, Corn Pudding, Green Beans with Pork, Platter of Sliced Tomatoes with Special Dressing, Spiced Seckel Pears, Cucumber Pickles, Yeast Rolls, Biscuits, Sweet Potato Pie, Summer Apple Pie, Tyler Pie, Caramel Layer Cake, Lemonade, and Iced Tea.

I first discovered Miss Lewis' cooking in San Francisco in 1988. A good friend of mine -- also from Tennessee -- had a dog-eared copy of The Taste of Southern Cooking in a book rack over her refrigerator. We pored over the recipes and schemed how to find seckel pears, for example, or "a really good chicken." We doubted the pasty-looking birds at the local Safeway qualified as edible, much less "really good." We did manage, however, to try our hands at some pickling and biscuit-making. I tried hard to find my own copy of Miss Lewis' book, as no one in San Francisco seemed to know of her food, or care that they were missing something delicious. Thank goodness for Scott Peacock, who cherished Miss Lewis in her later years and carried her legacy forward, and thank goodness I can now find seckel pears and really good chicken.

If I regard Miss Lewis with a more sainted type of love, I love Ronni Lundy's Shuck Beans, Stack Cakes, and Honest Fried Chicken with an earthy abandon. Ms. Lundy writes with an air of certainty that inspires confidence in even the most timid of cooks. Introducing her recipe for Honest Fried Chicken, Ms. Lundy writes: "I was born in the state of Kentucky and Colonel Harland D. Sanders was not, so you can believe me when I say that I, not the Colonel, know the secret to making honest fried chicken." As I've mentioned before, Ms. Lundy inspired me to first put pork shoulder to smoke, enabling me to enjoy one of the richest treats from my childhood -- a hickory-smoked chopped pork sandwich on a mushy white bun, lots of outside meat, please, and don't forget that slaw and pickles have to go on top of the sandwich. The premise of Shuck Beans is that Ms. Lundy collects recipes, memories, tall tales, and good stories from various country music stars (real country music stars like Emmylou Harris and John Prine - but don't let's go down that road) and their relatives.

Ms. Lundy also includes plenty of good advice for beginning cooks, including my favorite tip for mastering mashed potatoes:

"You're likely to encounter two kinds of potato mashers in most kitchen stores. The first has a masher that is a firm, zigzagged metal rod across the bottom. My mama told me not to fool with that kind because no matter how long you mash it's going to leave your potatoes with lumps. The masher that you want has a round, open waffle grid across its bottom that the potatoes are pressed through."

Mindful of her mother's dictum to ' be careful when you buy one, because they make a lot out of flimsy metal that are just not worth a hoot,' Ms. Lundy advises: "To make sure the masher isn't one of those hootless, flimsy kinds, pick it up by its handle in one hand and then press real hard against its masher with the other. If you feel any give, it's not worth your money. But if it stands firm and looks well made and sturdy, buy it, because, like my mama told me, a good masher is hard to find."

Sigh. I love a woman who can riff on Flannery O'Connor. I guess you never get over any of your first loves.

The Smoky Grill

Music: Whatever the Skating Queens at GG Park Have Blasting
Beverage: Iced tea (not sweet) or a glass of Domaine de Pajot Quatre Cepages

The weekends are my big cooking days -- I try to ensure that we are loaded up with fare to take us through at least Wednesday. In warm weather, weekend cooking means grilling and smoking.

If I'm grilling, I always have a mess of vegetables to throw on the fire in addition to the meat. (And it would be a poor excuse for a grill without meat, in my view.) Last weekend, the eight ball zucchini from Happy Boy Farms called to me. I sliced them into half-inch rounds and tossed them in olive oil with quartered red spring onions and some early girl tomatoes. I completed my grill-to-be with sea salt and a few grinds of fresh white pepper. I kept meaning to add fresh mint to the finished vegetables but never got around to it. If you try it, let me know how it worked.

I used to grill vegetables in a foil pie pan with holes punched into it, but then I saw a stainless steel grill tray that I had to have. I love it because it doesn't have useless flared edges that take up valuable grill real estate without adding more space for food. In other words, you want a tray with straight sides, or as close thereto as possible. I usually start the vegetables before the meat, because they require less attention and can sometimes take longer to get a good brown on them. Keep the vegetables in the fridge for a summer salad, or for an omelette with goat cheese.

A word about grilling: Try to avoid briquettes. I have read impassioned defenses of briquettes from smokers, but briquettes don't smell good and they don't make your food taste good. Use lump hardwood and a chimney starter. Lately, I have been using Frontier Hardwood Charcoal, which smells wonderful and actually imparts a very nice smoky taste to the food without any additional effort on my part. Don't anybody tell me anything bad about Frontier (like it's made from used tires). Then I'd have to switch, and I don't want to.

I Don't Want To Tell You The Truth

Today I read an interview with the great Tilda Swinton, in which she said the most remarkable thing:

I don't want to tell you the truth, which is that I'm absolutely making everything up as I go along and I'm not aware of having a career at all, let alone a career path. I'm aware of having a life and I'm very invested in my life.

I'm making all this up, too. I started cooking because I was hungry and poor, and didn't live at home anymore. I keep cooking because I get hooked on dishes, tastes, styles, and techniques. I like preparing dinner for friends, setting a beautiful table -- choosing wine. The cookbooks I like best are written by people I'd like to cook with and drink with. When I'm tense or feeling out of sorts, the simple acts of dicing, sauteing, and whisking are soothing as a tonic.

If you're new to cooking but want to take a deeper dive, pick a dish that you love and make it over and over. I took on roast chicken, and I've prepared it a thousand times. Yet it never fails to comfort me. Spouse and I have noticed that the children also calm down when they smell chicken roasting, onions sauteing in butter, or meat braising gently in tomatoes, herbs, and stock.

Here's my take on roast chicken. Roast chicken is very forgiving and difficult to render inedible, and guaranteed to calm you right down.

Music: Laura Nyro
Drink: Burgans Albarino

Food items:

1 pastured chicken
2 tbsp unsalted butter, softened
any fresh herbs you like but esp. thyme or tarragon
salt and pepper
small glass of the Albarino you're sipping

Rinse chicken thoroughly inside and out, reserving any feet or necks for stock. Cut away any clumps of fat in the cavity.

Wipe chicken dry and massage with butter herb/mixture. Lightly dust with s&p.

Lots of people will tell you to stuff the cavity with all manner of things (lemons, herbs, half an onion) but I don't bother. You can if you want, but be careful to empty the cavity of excess fluid while roasting.

Heat a sturdy saute pan over a medium high burner, and place the buttered chicken in the pan when the pan is hot enough to make a big sizzle.

Pop the chicken in a very hot (425 to 450, depending on size of bird) for about 15 minutes. Turn the oven down to 350, and pour a small glass of wine around -- but not over -- the bird.

Continue to roast until done (I jiggle the leg) but you can use a meat thermometer.

You can flip the bird around while it roasts, but it doesn't seem to make a difference to me.

Let chicken rest 15 minutes before carving while you make a quick pan sauce. If there are bits of fat clinging to the pan, scrape them out or place the pan over a high flame to render the rest of the fat. Pour off excess fat and deglaze pan with stock, water, wine, or port. Be sure to scrape up all the brown bits and let the liquid reduce a bit. Off heat, whisk in a tbsp or two of unsalted butter.

Pour sauce over chicken, and serve with roasted potatoes and a green salad -- or anything you like. Be sure to save the carcass (along with your feet and neck) for making stock. If you won't be making the stock the next day, freeze the carcass and use it within a month.

Thank You, Lee Bailey

Chef Lee Bailey left us earlier in this decade, but I thank him for committing to posterity his recipe for baked pork chops and rice. This dish is in regular rotation at our house, because who can resist juicy pork chops, and rice baked in pork fat and stock? The rice melts in your mouth but also achieves a nice brown crunch on the border.

Please enjoy, preferably with a nice glass of red wine. Groundwork Grenache from Sans Liege is currently the house favorite. This dish is so rich that I like it with just a green salad.

6 boneless, thinly sliced pork chops (I buy three thick ones and halve them across the equator)
1 large yellow onion
1 large sweet pepper
2 cups long-grain white rice (don't use brown -- it won't get the nice crust and will throw off the timing of the dish)
4 cups homemade stock or broth
flour for dredging
salt and pepper
chopped Italian parsley for garnish
fat (I like duck fat but any high heat oil will do in a pinch)

You're going to salt and pepper the chops, dredge in flour, and brown on both sides in a large saute pan.

Before you start prepping and cooking, get your frozen stock out of the freezer and bring to a boil in the microwave or on the stove. It takes me about 20 minutes in a medium microwave to bring 4 cups of stock to a boil.

Trim excess fat off chops and halve if needed. Sprinkle with salt and pepper, and dredge lightly in flour.

Brown the chops and set aside. Finely dice the onion and pepper while browning.

Add more fat to the pan if needed, and add the onions and peppers. Salt, pepper lightly, and saute, scraping up as much of the brown bits on the bottom of the pan as you can. You can deglaze the pan with a splash of white wine once the onions and peppers are just about done.

Put the onions and peppers in the bottom of a covered casserole dish. (Confession: I am a Heath Ceramics freak, so I use their large 2.5 quart casserole. A glass casserole dish will work just fine, though, and you'll get more crunchy bits around the rice.)

Pour the uncooked rice into the casserole and mix thoroughly with the onions and peppers. Pour the boiling stock over the rice, add the juice from the resting pork chops, and place the pork chops on top. Cover, and cook for about 45 minutes at 400 degrees.

Garnish with chopped fresh parsley, and serve.

A Tale of Two Pigs

I did promise Pig, and here Pig is. There are two Pig recipes: one for home cured and smoked bacon, and one for ribs.

Bacon:

I agree with Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall on this subject. See Meat, by same illustrious personage. The bacon will be more like pancetta than the good old American 12 flat slices. I did not use 'pink salt' (aka sodium nitrite) so you will want to be careful to keep the curing meat at a cold temp (below 40F) and to smoke the cured belly at 200F minimum. Sodium nitrite does inhibit the growth of eColi, so do what I did before feeding to your children -- or anyone else with anything less than a fully-fledged immune system -- eat some yourself right out of the smoker or try the first fry-up. If you don't get sick, probably no one else will either.

Take a nice pork belly (mine was about 3 lbs) from a trusted source. The Prather Ranch boys in SF are excellent for pork. I cut mine in half across the equator so that I was dealing with two 8 or 9-inch long hunks of belly. I put together a cure of 1 pound salt; half cup sugar; and quarter cup Colman's English mustard powder. Leaving skin on, rub the cure into and all over the bellies. Drizzle with maple syrup (you want Grade B) and put in refrigerator to cool. The next day, drain accumulated water; rinse pan out; and reapply cure and maple syrup. Repeat again. On the fourth day, pull the bellies out while you prepare the smoker, rinse thoroughly, and pat dry. I used a Weber kettle grill and hardwood charcoal but you have to stay on hardwood charcoal like the dickens or it will get too hot. About 220F is what you want. Buy a candy thermometer and stick it in one of the vent holes up top. I like a mix of soaked apple and hickory chips for the smoke. Smoke for at least two hours, or longer if you have the patience. I find a little bourbon buys me a good deal of patience. Pull the bellies off; let cool; and take the skin off the top with a sharp knife. Freeze the skin for beans or greens, and cut the smoked bellies into hunks. Use like pancetta in soups, stews, pasta, or a frittata.

Ribs

Some good friends came over today for a ribfest, and here's what they got: two racks of loin ribs, and one rack had a bit of meat on the back (I think it was brisket). I am indebted to the great pitmaster Mike Mills, author of Peace, Love & Barbecue, for many things, including the vital knowledge that you must remove the connective tissue behind the ribs before you smoke. Removal can be easy or hard, depending on the rack. I cut a fine line with a sharp knife (my trusty 12" chef's knife) down the center and then used the knife to prize some of the tissue away. You have to have something to grab onto the tissue -- either a paper towel or a pair of clean pliers -- or it will forever slip away. Pull tissue away like you are peeling off a book cover. Once that tissue is off, remove all clumps of fat from the backside. Sprinkle the racks on both sides with your favorite dry rub, but for heaven's sake don't rub the rub in. Mike will explain it all to you, but rubbing the ribs clogs the pores of the meat. I wouldn't swear to the scientific basis for this assertion, but I have plenty of anecdotal evidence to support its veracity.

My dry rub today consisted of mostly sweet and smoked paprika, kosher salt, white pepper, cayenne pepper, sugar, granulated onion, Rancho Gordo chile powder, Colman's mustard powder, and cumin. I smoked the ribs over indirect heat on the Weber, using again hardwood charcoal and a mix of apple and hickory for smoke. I started the racks face down for an hour, then flipped them over and spritzed with apple juice. I should perhaps mention that I smoke over a pan of water, both to catch drippings and to give some moisture back to the meat. In the meantime, I prepared a bourbon bbq sauce with ketchup, molasses, honey, white vinegar, salt and pepper, and bourbon (Bulleit, if you must know).

A word about sauce. I prefer to keep my meat moist with apple juice during the smoke, and I prefer to put my ribs on the table without sauce. Sauce is passed on the side. You may like to add some sauce in the last 20 minutes or so,and there's surely nothing wrong with that. Never sauce your ribs until the end, though, because the sugar will burn and that's the end of your ribs story.

For sides, we had baked beans and blue cheese cole slaw. I'll pass on those recipes shortly.

Local, Sustainable, Organic. Could We Please Just Eat?

I referred in my original post to the word "sustainable" and promised I would come back to it. For those who wish to get to them recipes, skip this post and wait for the next one. I promise it will involve pork.

The concept of sustainability is the subject of much discussion, and by folks far more learned than I. Diane Hatz of Sustainable Table is one of these learned individuals, and I encourage you to wander over to Sustainable Table for her discussion of sustainability. Borrowing poorly from Ms. Hatz, I sum up as follows: Eating sustainably means eating food that is healthy for you and for the environment, and that provides for fair prices for the farmers and humane treatment of animals.

The concept of sustainability is closely connected to the concept of eating locally. It's more sustainable to eat a tomato grown on a local, non-certified-organic farm, by a farmer who doesn't use any type of pesticides, than to purchase a certified organic tomato trucked up from Mexico. Some locavores have pledged to eat food produced only within a 100-mile radius of home. Of course, the locavores I'm referencing live in the Bay Area, a spectacularly rich foodshed. Pledging locavorism in northern Wisconsin, on the other hand, might be a great way to drop a third of your body weight.

Organic is good, but the definition is subject to federal regulation and all the gerrymandering that the legislative process implies. For example, food may be lawfully certified as "organic" but may be treated with some pesticides. I could go on, and many have, but I fear it may be discouraging to those who want to do the right thing and eat the right thing without getting bogged down in the details.

Here's my advice. Start small, if you're just starting out. Go to your local farmers' market, and ask questions. Is the farm certified organic? Regardless of whether you receive a yes or no, does the farm use pesticides? If buying meat, ask whether the animals are allowed to follow their natural habits. What do the animals eat? Are they ever given antibiotics? Also, ask for recipes. Most farmers I know love to share their food knowledge and recipes. You may not know what to do with fava greens, and I certainly didn't until the gentleman at Tairwa-Knoll Farms shared his favorite ways to prepare and enjoy.

If you can't make it to a farmers' market, start at your supermarket. If you can't find organic poultry, look for kosher (it's probably cleaner, if nothing else). If you can't afford to purchase organic everything, start with the important organic items like milk and dairy products. Check out this list for the most important items to purchase organic: http://www.thedailygreen.com/healthy-eating/eat-safe/Dirty-Dozen-Foods.

I'll tell you what we do at our house, and I'll share the recipes and techniques as the season brings them. A few caveats: We live in SF (food paradise) and we are fortunate enough to have a relatively generous food budget. Also, as is probably obvious, we choose to devote a considerable amount of our time as a family to preparing, preserving, and enjoying food. You and your family may choose to spend your time in different ways. Take what's useful from this blog, and don't feel that you have to do everything.

Here's what we do: (1) buy meat (usually whole animals) directly from the ranch or farm that raised them; (2) buy everything locally that we can (bread, pastured eggs, fruits, vegetables, cheeses, olive oil, vinegars, flour, beans, rice); (3) put up jams, pickles, and relishes, including by using up fruits and vegetables a bit past their prime; (4) regularly make our own stock from left-over bones and meat scraps; and (5) toss all stale bread, buns and biscuits into the food processor for bread crumbs. We also grow wonderfully tender lettuces in our garden, as well as leeks, chard, and all manner of herbs. (Spouse is the gardener, not me. I kill air plants.)

Next up, PIG.

Peanut Slaw

I love summertime: picnics, park outings, trips to the beach. This slaw is nice because it's refreshing and crunchy but doesn't have any mayo or cheese that would require cooling logistics. Just bring lots of forks, and spoons for the little people. We have an old set of flatware from when someone's parents got married -- perfect for picnics.

1 large red cabbage, shredded
half cup or so peanut butter
honey
lime juice
unseasoned rice vinegar
soy sauce
mint
cayenne powder
unsalted dry roasted peanuts
kosher salt

I shred the cabbage by hand with a 12" chef's knife. You could shred it in a food processor, but why be bothered with the extra clean-up? Just make sure you core it. Toss the cabbage in a large bowl and sprinkle with a tbsp or two of kosher salt to draw the water out. Let sit while you make the dressing.

Add some honey (maybe a tbsp or two to start) to the peanut butter until creamy and fairly loose. Add juice from half a lime and a a tbsp or two of rice vinegar. Taste. If you like what you're tasting, add a splash of soy sauce (go easy on this -- too much can ruin it). If you don't like what you're tasting, fuss with the basic peanut butter/honey/vinegar/lime mix. Once you've got the sauce down, add a little cayenne pepper (or a lot, if you like spicy) to give it some heat and depth.

Chop a handful of fresh mint. Drain water from cabbage, and toss with peanut sauce and mint. Fresh ginger might be nice as well. Add the peanuts, toss again, and refrigerate in bowl for at least 30 minutes to get a nice chill on it. If you come up with something fantastic, let me know!

Morning

Mornings are fairly quiet in our house until the toddler wakes up. Toddler then wakes up older brother and sister by jumping up and down in his crib and pelting them with pacifiers. Because today is Monday, the breakfast menu likely will be granola with sliced fruit for the children, and for the grown-ups scrambled eggs with tomatoes, onions, goat cheese, and whatever greens I have hanging around. Oh, and Four Barrel ristretto shots for Spouse and me.

Menu: Granola
Music: Misc. traffic noises
Drinking: Coffee

This is my friend Ann's mother's recipe. I trust Ann because, well, she is trustworthy and she has three boys under seven. Ann knows non-fussy recipes. So, next time you are shopping at your friendly local food collective (bonus points to the collective that closes for Pride Day and Cesar Chavez Day), buy any type of grains, seeds, and/or nuts that you like. My children are pickers (what's this, mama? (tiny speck of partially masticated something held up for inspection)), so I keep it simple.

1-2 lb. rolled oats (not the quick-cooking kind)
1 cup golden flax seed
half cup raw pumpkin seeds
raisins (to be added later)
1 cup or so dark brown sugar
half cup maple syrup (you want grade B)
half cup canola oil
pinch salt

Throw your oats and seeds into a large bowl. Add the brown sugar and mix, adding a little kosher salt. Pour the maple syrup and canola oil into a glass measuring cup and blitz for 30 seconds or so -- depending on what level of hellfire your microwave can bring. You really just want to gently warm the two so that you can mix them together. Pour over mixture and stir gently. Spread out on a pan, and place in a 300 degree oven, stirring occasionally. Bake until crunchy and the house smells so good you just can't stand it. Add raisins or other dried fruit after you've taken it out of the oven. At our last dinner party, nobody remembered dessert, so we dragged out the granola bin and munched while sipping Blue Bottle Firelit liqueur. Hypothetically, many bottles of wine had been consumed by this point. That is a recipe for another day, however.

Note: I'm fairly imprecise about measurements because I tend to cook by eye or by hand. Most of the time, this works just fine for me, and I can live with any small imperfections. My mother, however, is a measurement person, and my imprecision drives her crazy. Feel free to play around the margins, and adjust any seasonings to taste.

Let's Go

Hi, y'all.

I grew up in Tennessee, the child of Midwesterners. I've lived in San Francisco for 25 years and, after many sidetracks and distractions (door-to-door canvasser, anyone? how about making seitan in the lower Haight when everyone's tattoos were, um, homemade?), wound up a lawyer, wife, and mother of three. I've slayed every oven I've ever owned, including the fancy Miele double ovens Spouse and I had before the children were eating solid food. Why? How? I love the fat. Roast a whole duck with turnips and potatoes? Certainly. Slow roast a pork shoulder with OJ and bay for carnitas ... turn up the fire for turkey and chicken rubbed with butter and herbs, and by all means slow roast a pork belly with apple cider syrup glaze. Oh yes. So, don't be afraid to open all the windows, crank up the hood, and clean your oven, grill, and smoker early and often. Let's start with tomorrow's menu:

MONDAY SCHOOL POTLUCK

Menu: smoked turkey and wild rice casserole
Music: it's Sunday, so the soundtrack to Children of Men (Tavener, not the pop thing)

Cooking sustainably (we'll get to that word soon) involves daily commitment. Even if you don't feel like knocking out a dish on a particular day, chances are you'll have prep and catch-up work to do. In this vein, I started the turkey breasts on Saturday (Marin Sun Farms has some nice ones). My prep for turkey is pretty simple. Wash, trim of excess fat, and pat dry. Dust with salt and white pepper. Put turkey on a jelly roll pan lined with wax paper, and lightly cover with wax paper, so the meat can air dry in the fridge before heat. Bring turkey to room temp while the coals get hot and smoke over indirect heat in a Weber grill. Sometimes I get lazy and half grill, half smoke. I use hardwood charcoal, and for turkey smoke I like soaked apple chips with a little hickory mixed in. There are lots of authorities on smoking, but I like Ronni Lundy for the basics. Ms. Lundy covers the subject of simple smoking in a Weber very well in Shuck Beans, Stack Cakes, and Honest Fried Chicken. Anyway, smoke the breasts (or leg & thigh, as you like), cool, shred, and refrigerate. On Sunday morning, I threw the week's left over hot dog and hamburger buns, and one end hunk of Acme pain de mie, in the food processor for bread crumbs. If you don't have a food processor, tear them into small chunks. Regardless of how you get there, spread the bread crumbs or chunks on a jelly roll pan and brown at 200 degrees. Let cool. You can mix with dried herbs if you want, but I didn't for this recipe. Pulverize the crumbs.

The next day (Sunday for me), boil 6 cups of homemade poultry stock (microwave is great for this), and cook 4 cups of wild rice mix (organic -- Lundberg is good). Spread the warm rice out in a giant casserole pan (I think mine is 6 quarts, but I will check and update.) Grate Parmesan to taste, and mix. Run a knife over 4-5 cups of smoked turkey (you'll probably have leftover turkey, which won't last long in my experience) so it's well chopped. Add to rice. Saute 4 leeks, one large onion, and two stalks of celery (all finely chopped) in about 3 tablespoons unsalted butter. Add a couple of tablespoons good sherry or madeira to finish. Mix with rice and turkey. Make veloute (3 tbsp butter/3 tbsp flour/add 6 cups stock slowly and bring to boil/Julia Child can give you the basic recipe) and off heat add a glug of sherry or madeira and the juice from half a lemon. Check seasoning.). Pour veloute sauce over the whole thing and mix. Sprinkle bread crumbs (mix with Parmesan while you're waiting for the veloute to come to a boil) and spread evenly over the top. Let cool and cover with aluminum foil. Refrigerate.

On Potluck day (Monday for me), bring pan out of fridge about 30-40 minutes before oven time. Preheat oven to 425. Pop in oven and bake until bubbly and top is brown. Cover with foil and wrap in newspaper. Casserole should make it to the preschool table piping hot. Too bad there's no wine at our school.

Let me know if you have questions -- there are lots of great resources for basics, which I will flag for you if you need refreshing or educating.