City Swine?

This weekend the Spoonstress and I strayed a bit into what we like to call "The Counnntry." As I've been known to do, I used the trip as an excuse to find somewhere fun to eat. This time it was Jones' Lunch, in bucolic Clayton, N.C.

At this hot dog haven, the Spoonstress and I sat at the lunch counter and had a front row view of the menu board. On the breakfast side, I noted a peculiar distinction. The eatery served eggs either with country or city ham. Now I'd seen plenty of menu mentions for country ham, but never considered the alternative: city swine.

So what's the difference? According to the Food Network's site, "A city ham is basically any brined ham that's packed in a plastic bag, held in a refrigerated case and marked 'ready to cook', 'partially cooked' or 'ready to serve'. Better city hams are also labeled 'ham in natural juices.'"

Huh? Not much distinction made there.

The Cook's Thesaurus is more helpful. "City hams are the most common [hams]. They're soaked in brine (or injected with it) and then boiled or lightly smoked. Many gourmets prefer country hams, which are dry-cured and then smoked and aged for added flavor."

Apparently, city ham is what you and I call "ham." And it's likely that the crew at Jones Lunch needed to specify between the two because they're a bit "counnntry." It's interesting, though, that even out in Clayton, country ham retains its adjective. That may be because the town is only 15 miles from Raleigh. But help me out readers--if one strays far enough from wi-fi zones and cell coverage, does country ham ever become plain old "ham?"

So which kind did I try? Neither. It was after breakfast time and I'm not a big fan of ham. But I did continue my proud procine run, having a hot dog and a cheeseburger. (In my defense, franks are Jones' signature dish.) I ordered mine with mustard and relish, which the waitress edited to mustard and "dill pickle." The dog came topped with pickle chips sliced in half. It was delicious, but I'm not so sure what I'd call it--a city dog or a country dog?

Polentless

I usually shop at a supermarket that I describe as upper middle class (no, not Whole Foods). On occasion, I venture to a more, um, blue collar store for certain items. Not wanting to make two stops, I found myself unable to buy polenta for this spinach lasagna (with polenta instead of pasta) that the Spoonstress and I have been digging.

In my blissful ignorance, I didn't really know what polenta was, just that it was some sort of vegetarian grain concoction sold in tubes. I later learned on www.polenta.net that "Polenta is a traditional Italian dish, similar to cornmeal mush, and is widely used all over Italy." They had me at mush! Apparently, the tubes I buy are precooked to save time.

When I got home and informed the Spoonstress of the cheaper store's shortcoming, she had the answer in question form--why not make polenta?

As usual, she was right. Two sentences in the Moosewood Restaurant Cooks at Home cookbook say it all: "To make 3 cups of polenta, bring 3 cups of water to a boil in a large, heavy saucepan. Add 1 cup of cornmeal in a thin, steady stream while whisking briskly." That's easier than saying 'whisking briskly' three times fast.

After that, you simmer and stir on low heat for 10 minutes and add salt and butter to taste. Even I can manage that.

We haven't made the lasagna yet, so its taste remains a mystery. But it'd have to be pretty bad to make me pay $3 for a tube of water and corn meal.

Hog Wild

I've become a real pig lately. No, I haven't shifted shapes, but I've been eating a lot of swine. In a somewhat unintentional manner, I ate pork three straight dinners, a few lunches and then a dinner again.

As we saw recently, this whole thing started last Wednesday with the crock pot pork adventure. Then, for reasons somewhat out of my control, I had pork the next two nights. The Spoonstress and I had dinner with friends at Crook's Corner Thursday night. Anyone who's ever eaten at Bill Smith's great Chapel Hill restaurant knows that if they're serving Cheese Pork with mashed rutabagas, that's what you get. This lightly fried cutlet in a Madeira sauce is just that irresistible.

Coincidentally, we'd had plans for a while to eat with other friends at hog-licious Allen and Son Barbecue Friday night. Well, I wasn't about to get a salad. Now did I mention that I ate crock pot carnitas leftovers for lunch both Thursday and Friday? The Spoonstress, meanwhile, sensibly opted out of pork both days.

After a dry weekend, swine-wise I resumed the insanity Monday night. I had no choice. There was a bunch of pork shoulder left from the crock pot and I couldn't bear to have it go to waste. Ever since my sister-in-law Andrea made us a really tasty chicken pot pie, I'd been craving another. Well, here was my chance--sort of. Pillsbury crust in hand, I decided to make a pork pot pie.

In short, it worked. Best of all, with its strong gravy taste, I couldn't really tell what kind of meat it had. After all, I am getting a tad tired of pork.

Very soon, I'm gonna need to live less high on the hog. Until then, there's plenty of pork pot pie leftovers for lunch!

Crocked!

Well, that was easy. Now I know why crock pots are the appliance of choice for working adults everywhere. After some minimal prep work, the slow cooker made my kitchen aromatic as heck.

The one major concern was that the meat expanded during cooking, lifting the lid towards the end. I'm glad I was around to rectify that. One pre-cooking accident--sprinkling on oregano instead of ground pepper (oops!)--didn't really matter. It's not that precise of a cooking method (crock for 4 to 6 hours).

On the New Year's resolution front, I knocked out three birds with one meal. I tried the crock pot, bought fresh tortillas and continued my cookie crusade. The last one was a bit of a lark, as I couldn't resist the temptation of trying one "galleta" I saw in the case at the tortilla tienda. I asked the amiable clerk what kind it was and she said it was a "cereal" cookie. Thinking something had been lost in translation, I asked her (in my passable Spanish) what kind of flavor it had. "Corn Flakes," she said. Surrre. It was OK, but not great, like a heartier sugar cookie.

Anyway, the crock potting was fun for all. The Spoonstress and I enjoyed a nice taco fiesta, made all the better with those locally-made corn tortillas. It even yielded some nice bones for my Spooch (who, much to my chagrin, isn't named Sporky). She seemed to enjoy the crock pot experience.

I used this simple recipe I got from the web. To that template, I added the juice from one lime and red pepper flakes instead of a jalapeno pepper. I cooked for about seven hours, but then again, my pork shoulder was almost five pounds.

When it's done, the meat should come right off the bone with a fork and look something like this. If it doesn't break off in chunks and long strips, it's probably not ready. Overall, I'd definitley recommend making these crock pot carnitas, even though the clean up is a bit...greasy. If you do make it and have any bones left over, I know someone who wants 'em.

New Year, More Happiness

Sorry to say, but I haven't yet cooked the pork pictured last Friday. It's resting happily in the freezer. I had guests this weekend and just ran out of time. But I did decide to use the slow cooker and save the smoking for another day. Look for the results later this week.

My good friend Ashley (a.k.a. Mamabird) aided another food-related New Year's resolution--to eat more cookies. She whipped out a bag of chocolate-on-chocolate "Whoppers" from Foster's after we'd enjoyed some nice barbecue takeout. Now that's the kind of reader feedback I was hoping for!

But seriously, it was extrememly nice, especially for someone 8.9 months pregnant. On a related note, congratulations to Ashley for becoming Mamabird to a second babybird last night! It's now an even happier nest.

Meaty Resolution

You're not just looking at a pork shoulder, but follow through.

In an effort to stay true to my food-related New Year's resolutions, I bought this pork "picnic" cut. Happily, it's the cut used to make barbecue, or "pulled pork" for you northern readers. I haven't decided whether I'll use it to get acquainted with my smoker or crock pot, but it'll be a maiden voyage either way.

Another goal from that column was to buy more local, organic meat. This pork is likely neither (although, I did choose it over the Big Pork Hormel one). But if you read the fine print, I mentioned the need to practice smoking or crocking with inexpensive meat. At $1.29/pound, it's a success.

I hope I'm saying the same about the end result.

Stick a Fork in it...

...this column's done.

The January Fork & Spoon is out today, so you can read my New Year's food-related resolutions in all their glory.

Originally subtitled "From Cookies to Cacti," I think I can safely say it's anything but ordinary. Whether I stick to all of the resolutions...that's another story. But as you'll see, my goals aren't all that taxing. Some would call them fun.

Here's to a happy, healthy, hungry 2007!

2007, Next Column Well Underway

New year, new column.

I'm now finishing up the next Fork & Spoon piece on my 2007 food-related resolutions. I'll hold off on calling it the oxymoronic First Annual New Year's Food Resolutions column, but don't be surprised to see a similar one a year from now.

A few random musings on the year:

• 2007 seems like an unimportant year, but I guess I'm biased towards even numbers (you know, ones with World Cups, Olympics, national elections).
• I can't believe we're close to finishing a decade we still haven't named.
• What will we do for New Year's eyewear without those double 0's? A 2010 monocle, perhaps?
  

Back to the column...I don't want to give anything away, but I can tell you that I aim to enjoy eating even more. I can also say that it won't contain any shocking ideological shifts. I'm not going vegetarian or eating only raw foods, not that there's anything wrong with that.

Anyway, it's back to work for me--I need to finish this column before those 2007 glasses go out of style.

Dulce de-licious

Now that sure looks nice, doesn't it?

You're looking at some makeshift dulce de leche. While it didn't taste quite as delicious as it appears, the sultry Central/South American delight made for an interesting dessert. I'd give it at least a B+.

For those just checking in, yesterday I boiled a can--well, a jar--of condensed, sweetened milk. It's really easy. You just submerge it in a sauce pan and heat until it boils. Then you lower the flame and simmer for three hours. After letting it cool, refrigerate it for an hour.

I got the idea from a New York Times Magazine article on dulce de leche (cleverly titled "Got Leche?"). Of course, had I taken the time to read the entry on condensed milk in our food bible, On Food and Cooking--as the Spoonstress did--I would have found the same tactic. That book (see the link to the right) has the answer to everything food-related. Here is where I'm required by the American Department of Commerce to say "it's never too early to start shopping for that holiday gift."

But back to the dulce. It's meant to be spreadable and spread we did. The Spoonstress procured two kinds of cookies for the occasion--simple butter and Keebler fudge stripes. The former knocked the socks off those Keebler Elves.

Our friends Kath and Ed, who were over for dinner, seemed to enjoy the occasion. Ed recalled eating a similar concoction in Honduras, where he spent some of his childhood. He also remembered his dad foregoing the cookie and going at the sweet with a spoon. Now that's dulce!

Dulce Tooth

To me, dulce de leche is primarily a delightful Haagen-Dazs flavor. Before yesterday, I had some idea that it was more than a variety of ice cream, but not much.

I was thumbing through a fairly old New York Times Magazine Wednesday when I found this piece on the South American caramel spread. In it, the author talks of a really easy way to recreate the treat--boil a can of evaporated milk for three hours.

As luck had it, I just happened to have a whole can of sweetened, condensed milk, minus one tablespoon, in the fridge. I'd used it as an ingredient for my caramel slices, and couldn't quite think of what to do with the rest. So I did the usual--put it in tupperware.

My excitement at finding a possible use for this condensed milk was tempered by the recipe (can you call boiling a can a recipe?) calling for an unopened can. After toying with several ideas, I settled on a jam jar in my recycling bin. I poured the creamy milk into the glass and away we went...at a low temperature because I'm afraid of milky glass shrapnel.

Three hours later, it looks like butterscotch, but a bit thinner. I think I'll boil a bit longer. Assuming I'm not taken out by a "detonation de leche," check back tomorrow for a full report.

Slice of Life

Happy New Year, all! As I previously previewed, I made caramel slices this past weekend. These dessert bars are my favorite Commonwealth (you know, those Queen lovers) dessert, sticky toffee pudding being a close second.

Well, the slices sure looked nice. And many of them certainly disappeared before dessert time. But despite the fact that I used a Kiwi recipe, the slices didn't quite taste like the ones I remembered from New Zealand (and England). The main problem was the caramel, which just didn't have the right texture. I was hoping for more gooeyness, but it ended up being kind of chalky. If I had to assign blame, I'd guess it was the recipe's call for Lyle's Golden Syrup instead of making it from sugar. Maybe I should have used this Kiwi recipe.

Oh well, such is life. It's OK, I was ready for a little dessert breather anyway. Had the slices been fabulous, it would've been that much more difficult to do. When I eventually get back on the sweet train, I think I'll start with an American classic: Toll house cookies.