Surprise Pork Chops

This is one of those recipes that I went looking for recently because we had certain ingredients on Raconteur that I wanted to use.  I was rather skeptical, because of the cooking time, but didn't have the patience or the bandwidth to look further.  It's from southernfood.about.com. and we have now made it twice and it has earned a spot in the repertoire.  
You can see a double pile of onions on the cutting board because I also made Mark Bittman's rice pilaf to go with the chops; I'll include that recipe here too.  I find that I now use Bittman's How to Cook Everything - I have it on my iPhone - for many, many basics and variations on basics.  I don't have a Joy of Cooking on board, and there is no good electronic version (yet?), and so he has become my go-to.  One nice thing about his recipes is that he gives variations - often several - for many or most of them. 

Recipe: Pork Chops with Sour Cream

First prepared: aboard Raconteur in early 2012

6 pork chops, about 1/2 inch thick
salt and pepper
1 onion, chopped
1 garlic clove, minced
3 tablespoons butter
1 bay leaf
3/4 cup chicken broth or bouillon
1 cup sour cream
2 teaspoons sweet paprika (I used 1 teaspoon of Hungarian paprika and 1 teaspoon of Piment d'Espelette, to make it a bit spicier)

Sprinkle chops with salt and pepper. Sauté onion in butter until soft and golden; add minced garlic. Transfer to a bowl; set aside. Add pork chops to skillet; brown on all sides. Pour off excess fat, lower heat, then add cooked onions and garlic, bay leaf, and chicken broth to skillet with chops. Cover and cook over low heat for about 1 hour. (This was the scary part: A whole HOUR? But they turn out tender and delicious, and even still a little pink at the bone.) Transfer chops to a hot serving platter; keep hot. Cook pan juices over high heat until reduced to about half. Lower heat and add sour cream and paprika or paprika and Piment d'Espelette. Stirring constantly, cook until heated through, but do not boil. Pour over chops. Serves 4 to 6. 

Recipe: Rice Pilaf, simple form

First prepared: too long ago to remember

2 to 4 tablespoons butter or extra virgin olive oil (I used butter because the pork chop recipe uses butter; if the rice is to accompany something cooked in olive oil, then I would use that.  I have no idea if that matters at all.)

1 cup chopped onion

1 1/2 cups rice, preferably basmati

Salt and freshly ground black pepper

2 1/2 cups stock

Put 2 tablespoons of the butter or oil in a large, deep skillet with a lid over medium-high heat. When the butter is melted or the oil is hot, add the onion. Cook, stirring, until the onion softens, about 5 minutes.

Add the rice all at once, turn the heat down to medium, and stir until the rice is glossy, completely coated with butter or oil, and starting to color lightly, about 5 minutes. Season well with salt and pepper, then turn the heat down to low and add the stock all at once. Stir once or twice, then cover the pan.

Cook until most of the liquid is absorbed, about 15 minutes. Turn the heat to the absolute minimum (if you have an electric stove, turn the heat off and let the pan sit on the burner) and let rest for another 15 to 30 minutes. Add the remaining butter or oil if you like and fluff with a fork. Taste and adjust the seasoning, fluff again and serve.

Pressure Cooker Stuffed Mangoes - really Stuffed Peppers

So in my family, we have always called green peppers "mangoes" (and sometimes you will even see them called that in the supermarket, even though the fruit is sometimes also sold there).  As in "Stuffed Mangoes", a dish made by my paternal grandmother, Bernice Good Hough Newman, and then carried on by my mom, Beth Tweed Hough.
The Word Detective gives an explanation of why green peppers were referred to as mangoes, though it does not really explain why this occurred entirely in the Midwest. It has roots as far back as the colonial era when the mango fruit (“real” mangoes) were brought to this country in pickled form from Asia. Eventually, the term mango would refer to almost pickled food. Peppers were often stuffed with cabbage and pickled. Green peppers became known as mangoes or mango peppers.  The peppers in the recipe in my family (and many others) are NOT pickled.  I don't have the exact recipe of my grandmother, and I was looking for a pressure cooker version anyway, so this one is a Raconteur adaptation of the family recipe, and tastes quite similar.

Recipe: Stuffed Peppers

First prepared: In this form, on board Raconteur in late 2011


3 cups cooked white rice
8 medium green bell peppers (I use a mix of red, yellow, orange and green normally)
1 and a half pounds ground beef
1 and a half teaspoons salt
1/4 teaspoon or more fresh ground pepper
2 eggs
a large onion, chopped
2 (10.75 ounce) cans tomato soup (I use one each Tomato and Tomato Bisque), mixes with 1 tablespoon hot sauce
1 and a half cups water

Remove seeds and wash peppers.  Mix ground beef, rice, salt, pepper, egg, onion and 2/3 cup of the tomato soup mixture.  Stuff peppers lightly and place on rack in pressure cooker.  Top each pepper with 1 tablespoon of the soup mixture, then mix the remaining soup mixture with the water and pour into pressure cooker around the peppers.
Cover and bring the pressure cooker to pressure; lower the heat and cook for another 15 minutes.  Cool before opening.

You can adapt this for oven cooking by parboiling the peppers to soften them, and then by cooking them for at least an hour in a pre-heated 350 degree oven.

Serves 4-6 (I used 9 peppers and we had two meals from them)

Tortilla Española "Batali"

Ingredients

A few years ago, Susan's friends Mark and Lolly were coming to dinner at her house in Lincoln, and I echoed a very old tradition (dating from sometime in the late 1980's) and cooked several things from one issue of Food and Wine magazine; Mario Batali and Gwyneth Paltrow  made a series for PBS on cooking and traveling in Spain, and the September 2008 F&W had several of the recipes they collected.
I had been in Spain in 2007 with my friends Cindy, Jackie and Joan, and with JP and Susan in January of 2008, so we had eaten quite a few "Tortillas Española"; this recipe produced one of the best, and so became a keeper.  

Today we were getting ready to leave Martinique, and Susan and JP went off to the local discount supermarket "Leader Price"; I had eggs on my list, as I was down to two.  Susan called me on the VHF to say that they only had the 20-count egg box - first I said, no, skip them, we'll get some in Saint Lucia.  Then I re-thought - Tortilla Española, egg salad - what's not to like? - so I radioed back and told her to go for it. So tonight, our first in Rodney Bay, I made the tortilla, and it made a most satisfying supper.

Recipe: Tortilla Española "Batali"

First prepared: Birchwood Lane, Lincoln, MA, September or October 2008


1/4 cup plus 2T Extra Virgin Olive Oil
1 and a quarter pounds Red Bliss potatoes, peeled and slice 1" thick (a mandoline is great for this)
1 onion (JP likes a bit more), halved and sliced thin
Kosher salt and fresh ground black pepper
8 large eggs

Heat the 1/4 cup of EVOO in a large (cast iron or other broiler-proof) skillet.  Add the potato and onion slices, season with salt and pepper, and cook over MODERATE heat, stirring frequently, until the potatoes and onion are tender but not browned, about 15-20 minutes.
In a large bowl, lightly beat the eggs and season with salt and pepper.
Slowly scrape the potato-onion mixture into the bowl, being sure not to leave any in the skillet.
Return the skillet to the heat; add the remain 2T of oil.  Add the egg-potato-onion mixture, spreading in a reasonably even layer.  Cover and cook over low heat until the tortilla is set on the bottom and edges, about 10-12 minutes.
Light the broiler and transfer the skillet to the oven, about 8" from the heat, and cook until the top is set; this will take about 1 minute or so (except on the boat!).
Set the skillet over a large plate and carefully invert the tortilla onto the plate.  Let stand for AT LEAST five minutes.  Cut into wedges; serve warm or at room temperature.

This makes 4 servings as a main and 6 as a side.

When I made this originally, we served it with a version of Poulet Basquaise that I also loved...but the recipe for that is elsewhere (not on the boat) so that will have to wait for a later post. 

One nice thing about this recipe is that you can make it hours ahead of time - in Spain, they seem to make it early in the day, and then cut from it for hours afterwards. 

Cooking class and Callaloo Soup

When we were in Dominica for a few days last week, the folks from s/v Memory dinghied over on Thursday to say that "Providence" (Martin Carrierre) would be doing a market visit and a cooking session on Saturday morning.  After consulting with JP and Susan when they returned from their seven hour hike of a segment of the Waitukubuli National Trail, we decided to stick around on Saturday to participate.  The final dishes were a really delicious fish cake, that may be a bit too fiddly for the boat - though I think JP is pretty tempted to try it - and a stew that was billed as a "Callaloo" stew, but to my mind was really a very good island provision-and-chicken stew that used taro for its thickening, classic Caribbean flour-and-water dumplings, and, somewhat strangely by Trinidadian and Grenadian lights, ONLY the callaloo stems.  Martin's wife Flori showed us how to peel them - they were very long and thick, and the attached leaves rather aging - and then told me that they don't ever use the leaves.  I asked if I could have them, to supplement the ones I had bought in the market, and of course she said yes, but was rather skeptical that they were actual consumable.  The photos from the event are in a slideshow here: 

 

I did indeed use the discarded leaves, more picked over than usual because, as said, they were rather more elderly than I am accustomed to seeing in other places, along with some island spinach, to make one of our favorite soups.  This is a richer soup than you would find in many island kitchens; it came originally from Rosemount Plantation in the north of Grenada, by way of Ann VanderHoof.  One note - if you do use callaloo, do NOT put it in your mouth when it's raw.  It does not do permanent damage, but will feel like you have just eaten fiberglass - very unpleasant.

Recipe: Cream of Callaloo Soup

First prepared: Onboard Raconteur in Grenada, late 2011 or early 2012

2 T Vegetable oil
1 large onion, chopped
1 clove garlic, chopped
1 stalk celery with leaves, chopped
1 small cubanelle or green bell pepper, chopped
1 T chopped fresh thyme
salt and fresh ground black pepper
1 bunch callaloo, ribs removed and leaves chopped, or, if you are not in the Caribbean, about 1 pound of spinach, large stems removed
2 cups evaporated milk
1 cup vegetable stock (from cubes is fine)
4 whole cloves
a dash of hot sauce, and a squeeze of lemon juice
sour cream, creme fraiche, or cream

Heat the oil and add onion, garlic, celery and pepper.  Cook over medium heat until soft but not brown.  Sprinkle with thyme, salt and pepper.
Add callaloo or spinach and stir to combine.  Add the evaporated milk, the stock and the cloves.  Cook over low heat for 45 minutes.
Remove the cloves (if you can find them!) and puree the soup in a blender, a food processor, or with an immersion blender (my preference, both on the boat and on land).  Puree until fairly smooth, but leave some distinct pieces of callaloo or spinach.  If the soup is too thick, think with additional milk, stock or water.
Add hot sauce and/or lemon juice as desired.  Pour soup into warm bowls and swirl in a spoonful of sour cream, creme fraiche or cream.

This serves 4 people generously.