I recently hatched the idea that I was going to start making pizza. Still a young and impressionable food mind, I’m embarrassingly susceptible to trends publicized in the food magazines that I read.
It didn’t seem like it would be that hard. Get the proper equipment, and start baking. And the capital outlay didn’t seem like so much either: just that heavy stone that hangs out on the bottom of the oven. Read the rest of this entry »
I can attribute much of the success of tonight’s stew to my choice of braising liquids. This was actually the first time I’d attempted a beer braise- the recipe recommended Stout, but after a half-hearted attempt to find a local-crafted brewed stout that I would want to consume the remaining amount of the six-pack, I resolved to braise using the big bottle of Kasteel Brown I had lying around.
Brown, or Donker as it is labeled, isn’t a wimpy beer. Weighing in at 11% abv, Donker wields an undeniable punch. Both the nose and the palate reveal serious stewed fruits: think raisins and prunes. Cooked for several hours as a braise, the liquid was still assertive. But it didn’t overwhelm the stew, Instead, the beer lent its distinctive flavor, while demonstrating that it could be well behaved when guests are around. Read the rest of this entry »
Provencal Daube (in progress)
Does this mark a return to (semi) regular blogging? Quite possibly– a reconfiguration of my working schedule, with a shift to the 9-5 may clear up precious minutes for more frequent updates. Read the rest of this entry »
Get the cardiologist on the line
This cut of beef, pictured above as an integral part of Sunday’s breakfast, is a bit of a mystery. Procured from a Pennsylvania purveyor at the Clark Park Farmer’s Market on Saturday, the “Ranch Steak” is the ideal size for the “steak” half of the classic “steak and eggs” combination. Grass-fed and dry-aged, the steak had a nice degree of marbling. I seasoned it with salt and pepper, cooked it for about five minutes in a pan over medium-high heat, then put it under the broiler to cook the other side, until the steak reached medium rare.
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I had never actually made a stew before, but a package of burgoo mix received as a gift, combined with a number of people coming by to drink the excess beer belonging to a brewer friend seemed to present a prime opportunity.
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This is someone else’s picture. Trust me, the one I cooked looked just as good.
Unlike other American cities like New York, Chicago, and even Ann Arbor, Michigan, Indo-Chinese cooking has apparently not yet caught on in Philadelphia. And that’s a shame.
I’d be content to eat this seven mornings a week
I’ve only recently admitted New York’s supremacy over Philadelphia in the realm of bagels. For years, a mistaken sense of local pride convinced me that the two were, at the very least, comparable. Too many trips to New York, with mornings featuring bagels from Murray’s and H and H in Manhattan, and most recently Bergen in Brooklyn, must have pounded some objectivity into me.
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