Well said.
(Or asked).
To my mind, sauces and condiments not only make, but are absolutely, utterly and totally necessary to, beef dishes.
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(Or asked).
To my mind, sauces and condiments not only make, but are absolutely, utterly and totally necessary to, beef dishes.
At the risk of going too far off topic... but to answer your questions:
- Started with beef, fancy salt, water only, for 2 weeks. Difficult to say the least. Some immediate improvements, some "withdrawal symptoms."
- Slowly added items back in "elimination diet style" and monitored reactions. Good = keep, bad = dismiss.
- First back was eggs, then butter/ghee, then cheese, then carnivorous fish, then other dairy (Greek yogurt, whole milk, cottage cheese), then shellfish. I didn't count bison as separate from beef but it was mixed in, here and there, as was lamb but later. I would've mixed other ruminant meat in there too if it was more easily available.
- Much later experimented with "clean" simple condiments (boutique or local brands best for that) like hot sauce, and fermented foods like sauerkraut and (gasp!) sourdough bread, but in small amounts and from organic, local, "clean" bakeries only. No other grain products.
If all the flavoring extras are simply a preference, that's one thing. But if they "are absolutely, utterly and totally necessary," then either you've got some revulsion to beef (unfortunately it does happen), or you need a better source.
E.g., my beef dish, consisting entirely of grilled ribeye last night was close-my-eyes-and-savor-it delicious and I added absolutely nothing other than salt. And it probably didn't really "need" that.
Pasta Carbonara - with (diced, by me), guanciale, organic, free range, eggs, freshly grated (by me) Pecorino Romano, generous quantities of black pepper, pasta and pasta cooking broth, - will be on the menu this evening, chez moi.
@Scepticalscribe or anyone else familiar: after all the talk about blood oranges and their short season, I checked in the produce dept yesterday and they had some, so I picked up a half-dozen.
I noticed at home that two of them were starting to turn red on one side, the other four were regular-orange color. I assume they're in various stages of ripeness; am I to let them turn totally red (orange), half n half, or what? TIA.
I noticed at home that two of them were starting to turn red on one side, the other four were regular-orange color. I assume they're in various stages of ripeness; am I to let them turn totally red (orange), half n half, or what? TIA.
Here in mormon-heavy UT the DMV was demanding that women from certain minority religions remove their headgear for their Driver's License photos; it went to the courts and was overturned by the 9th District.
Well, there was a girl in our IT department who was a fan, and a card-carrying member, of The Church of The Flying Spaghetti Monster, where the headgear is an overturned colander. When she got her UT license she demanded she got to wear her religious headgear too, and they caved! She has a chrome colander on her head in her DL photo! She was a hoot!
They ripen very rapidly.
However, as blood oranges are (as far as I know) a (natural) mutation (of standard oranges), in my experience, differences in the internal degree - and extent - of "redness" between several blood oranges purchased at the same time (thus, assumed to have come from the same source, and are the same varietal - for, there are a few different varieties of blood orange) is nothing to worry about, and is totally natural.
So, no, don't let them "turn" totally red; just eat them (and enjoy them) when the craving seizes you.
In fact, I would add that not only do they ripen very rapidly, but, as their short season draws to a close (which is rapidly approaching, most unfortunately), their quality deteriorates, and they start going off - that is, not keeping - all too rapidly, as well.
So, my counsel would be to eat them and enjoy them.
Those little things are amazing, had my first ones in Toronto this year served at an amazing little place that makes everything from scratch as you order. When I got home I swore I was going to start making them all the time, thanks for reminding me.
Not only are they amazing; I would argue that they are addictive.
Interesting article/recipe in Cooks Illustrated, Tacos Arabe. When the Ottoman Empire collapsed at the end of WWI, a bunch of Turks immigrated to Puebla, Mexico, bringing their shawarma, yogurt sauces and yeasted flatbreads with them. Add two cultures, mix, and a new set of dishes: the Turks replaced lamb with pork, and added Mexico's chile sauces. I made the dish today, rather complicated but it's the best thing I've eaten in months. The Mexican sauce was hot (a 7-oz can of chipotles en adobo) for just six people (!), but the yogurt sauce simultaneously cooled you just enough. Quite an unusual mix of spices and juices (the house STILL smells wonderful!) to marinate/roast the pork. I'll be making this again!
That looks absolutely amazing, and what a wonderful - actually, a fascinating - backstory.
Actually, some of the most interesting (not to mention delicious) cuisines of the world have come about as a result of this sort of cultural (and culinary) fusion of two entirely different traditions.
Yesterday, I treated myself to an ever so slightly tweaked version of a Nigel Slater recipe.
Dinner comprised butcher's sausages, gently sautéed, in olive oil.
And, accompanying them - prepared in a separate saucepan - were a jar of Italian cannellini beans, which were added to several cloves of roughly chopped garlic that had been lightly sautéed in olive oil.
Next, some chicken stock was added to the cannellini bean (and garlic), brought to the boil, and allowed simmer until well reduced.
Double cream, along with a generous amount of freshly ground black pepper were the next ingredients to join the cannellini beans, stock, and garlic in their saucepan.
At this stage, rather than steaming it separately (which would have made three saucepans to address when washing up), I added some roughly chopped, or shredded, spinach (chard, actually - with the stems removed) to the cannellini beans/garlic/stock and cream mixture, and let them cook.
Nigel suggests adding some lemon juice "to freshen, or liven up" the flavours; now, while I did this last night, and I am writing this as someone who actually loves (passionately loves) lemons, freshly squeezed lemon juice, lemons grated, lemons blended with other citrus fruit, lemons served with chicken, fish, adore the very scent of lemons - to be perfectly honest, I don't think that this dish actually needs it.
In any case, sausages served with cannellini beans, garlic, spinach, (in a cream and stock sauce) is a tasty, soothing, warming, autumnal, or late winter, or early spring, dish, and one I greatly enjoyed.
Dinner comprised butcher's sausages, gently sautéed, in olive oil.
And, accompanying them - prepared in a separate saucepan - were a jar of Italian cannellini beans, which were added to several cloves of roughly chopped garlic that had been lightly sautéed in olive oil.
Next, some chicken stock was added to the cannellini bean (and garlic), brought to the boil, and allowed simmer until well reduced.
Double cream, along with a generous amount of freshly ground black pepper were the next ingredients to join the cannellini beans, stock, and garlic in their saucepan.
At this stage, rather than steaming it separately (which would have made three saucepans to address when washing up), I added some roughly chopped, or shredded, spinach (chard, actually - with the stems removed) to the cannellini beans/garlic/stock and cream mixture, and let them cook.
Nigel suggests adding some lemon juice "to freshen, or liven up" the flavours; now, while I did this last night, and I am writing this as someone who actually loves (passionately loves) lemons, freshly squeezed lemon juice, lemons grated, lemons blended with other citrus fruit, lemons served with chicken, fish, adore the very scent of lemons - to be perfectly honest, I don't think that this dish actually needs it.
In any case, sausages served with cannellini beans, garlic, spinach, (in a cream and stock sauce) is a tasty, soothing, warming, autumnal, or late winter, or early spring, dish, and one I greatly enjoyed.
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Speaking of Cacio e Pepe. Had the 2nd or best cacio e pepe from a restaurant in the US I have had. Not too much pepper and perfect flavor from the pecorino.
Close rival to the best cacio e pepe I have had in Rome and Volterra.
Close rival to the best cacio e pepe I have had in Rome and Volterra.
What is a traditional Chinese hot pot meal?
Something found in restaurants, or prepared at home?
Yesterday evening, I prepared my take on an old classic, pasta i fagioli, pasta and beans.
A finely diced onion, a finely diced carrot, (I didn't have any celery to complete the classic soffritto), along with several cloves of minced garlic, and some diced guanciale were sautéed in a pan, in olive oil, until soft.
The pan was then deglazed with half a glass of white wine, which was reduced by more than half, and which also allowed the alcohol to burn off.
A tin of tomatoes (Italian, San Marzano tomatoes) was opened, poured into a bowl, chopped, and then seasoned - (a little sea salt, generous quantities of freshly ground black pepper, and half a teaspoon of organic brown sugar added); this was added to the pan where the other ingredients simmered happily, and a glug or two of olive oil was also added to the pan.
This was then simmered for almost an hour, allowed to cook down, and thicken, intensifying the flavours which were mixing, marrying, melding, at which point another pot of salted water was put on the boil, and the pasta added.
A jar of borlotti beans (which hailed from the superb Prunotto company, from Piedmont, in northern Italy - I have visited one of their farms) was drained and added to the rest of the ingredients; several ladles of that wonderful rich starchy broth in which the pasta was cooked was next, followed by the (cooked) pasta itself, whereupon they were all mixed together in the pan.
At this point, dinner (proper plates, tablecloth, napkins, place mats, crockery, cutlery, glassware) was served.
And it was delicious, though I say so, myself.
A finely diced onion, a finely diced carrot, (I didn't have any celery to complete the classic soffritto), along with several cloves of minced garlic, and some diced guanciale were sautéed in a pan, in olive oil, until soft.
The pan was then deglazed with half a glass of white wine, which was reduced by more than half, and which also allowed the alcohol to burn off.
A tin of tomatoes (Italian, San Marzano tomatoes) was opened, poured into a bowl, chopped, and then seasoned - (a little sea salt, generous quantities of freshly ground black pepper, and half a teaspoon of organic brown sugar added); this was added to the pan where the other ingredients simmered happily, and a glug or two of olive oil was also added to the pan.
This was then simmered for almost an hour, allowed to cook down, and thicken, intensifying the flavours which were mixing, marrying, melding, at which point another pot of salted water was put on the boil, and the pasta added.
A jar of borlotti beans (which hailed from the superb Prunotto company, from Piedmont, in northern Italy - I have visited one of their farms) was drained and added to the rest of the ingredients; several ladles of that wonderful rich starchy broth in which the pasta was cooked was next, followed by the (cooked) pasta itself, whereupon they were all mixed together in the pan.
At this point, dinner (proper plates, tablecloth, napkins, place mats, crockery, cutlery, glassware) was served.
And it was delicious, though I say so, myself.
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