2010 Challenge: Cracklin Crusted Mac n Cheese

This post needs nothing else - the title says it all. But here is the back story.

"The best mac 'n cheese in the city is at Cochon Butcher. This is not open for debate," Lindsay said the other week.

I am inclined to agree with her. The Butcher mac 'n cheese is rich and decadent, slightly soupy and thick with cheese. Often times the dish is enhanced like a Bravo housewife with pancetta or country ham. But what really sets it apart is the topping. You see each sphere of goodness is encrusted with finely ground bread crumbs, herbs, and a good amount of butter. So after it bakes, you get this crackly, vibrant crust and then the silky texture of the mac 'n cheese. It is like pasta creme brulee.

Last week, real job had me in Baton Moulin Rouge. I needed andouille and tasso for a variety of Thanksgiving related projects. Luckily on the ride home the car miraculously found itself parked outside of Bailey's Andouille in LaPlace. I had forgotten to eat lunch and there was a bag of cracklins on the counter. While riding back to New Orleans on Airline Highway with an open bag of rapidly depleting cracklins, an angel from heaven descended.

"Yes, that would be a good idea. Grind the cracklins with some bread crumbs to create a crust for mac 'n cheese. But no, I do not have any cash for a donation to your religion as my High Holy Day is this week," I told the Angel.

Cracklin Crusted Mac 'n Cheese

Look, you have a recipe for mac 'n cheese. Shoot, pressed for time? Just use the stuff in the blue box. To make the crust combine a half cup of cracklins with a half cup of day old bread (or jarred bread crumbs). Place into mortar and pestle or food processor and beat or pulse into a fine paste. I added a teaspoon of dried oregano and one garlic clove to this mix. Heat your oven to 350 degrees or thereabouts. Place mac 'n cheese in dish, cover with bread crumb mixture, top with butter or drizzle with olive oil, and bake for about 25 minutes. Then turn on broiler and cook for another 3 minutes or until the mixture is a mahogany and you can hear the mac n cheese bubbling. Allow to cool briefly, then serve.

One note of caution. If you are not familiar with cracklins, they can have some hard bits. So expect a crunch every now and then.

2010 Challenge: Kanno Gumbo

Gumbo has been on the brain. Why shouldn't it be? The temperature is down right frigid and that North wind is already howling across the lake. Last week we woke up to brisk weather and before we had even made it out of the house, Lindsay asked, "Can you make gumbo this weekend?"

Why yes, yes I can. But first we swung by Kanno where we ran into among other plebians, Dread Pirate Robert. It is really cute how the proprietor, Hide, sets out a "Reserved" sign on the corner of the bar for him. Color us impressed with his clout. First course was a dark, fragrant bowl of soft shell crab miso soup. The color and flavor of the soup had more in common with gumbo than the austere soups most often showcased by Japanese restaurants. It was heady and rich with a high level of spice. Just what we needed to get over the draft that the Pirate brought in with him.

Couple this experience with an ongoing Twitter conversation with Chef Mary Sonnier about gumbos and, in particular, her husband's duck and kale gumbo. Shoot we just had to make a roux and do something with it. 

Heat Seeking Duck and Kale Gumbo

Begin with a whole duck that you have washed and dried thoroughly. Take a paring knife and prick the skin all over - just the tip, just for a second. This will help the fat render out, resulting in a cleaner stock, and bonus DUCK FAT. My advice to you is to begin salting this duck...heavily. Little pepper as well. Then into a roasting pan or cast iron skillet and a 400 degree oven for 45 minutes. Drop temp to 350 for another 15 minutes. You may or may not want to baste this bird with the rendered fat.

Take duck out of oven, let cool, and pull meat from carcass. Reserve the skin and use as a snack. Strain the fat from the roasting pan into a bowl and use for anything you want. Place carcass into a stock pot with some mire poix, white wine, 4 whole peppercorns, 2 bay leafs, and the stems from the kale that you cut and washed while the bird roasted. Cover with cold water. Simmer this for about 3 hours, skimming fat and foam as it rises from surface. Strain, place stock into a clean pot, and keep warm.

Make a roux (equal parts flour and fat, use all purpose and canola for gumbo). I want it to be the color of an old mahogany bookshelf in your grandfather's office so pull up a stool and relax. After the roux is made, add to it the Trinity, finely diced. Saute for about 10 minutes. Then add at least a half tablespoon of cayenne, 4 garlic cloves (minced), a sprig of green onion (chopped), salt, and pepper. Throwing in a bay leaf here would also not be a bad idea. Stir this around and breathe in the aroma of success. Now whisk in your hot stock. I like to start with a small amount. This helps meld the roux and stock together. I used about 6 cups of stock, it made plenty. Bring this to a boil, then lower to a simmer. Toss in your duck meat and the kale. Let cook for about 15 minutes more or all day.

Taste, adjust seasoning and serve with white rice, sliced green onions, parsley, hot sauce, and most importantly, cold beer.

2010 Challenge: Photos of Bones Favre Wishes He'd Sent Instead

Sorry, there is no way to avoid making a joke about Brett Favre's inability to once again come up big when it matters, in this case when you are talking about bone marrow. Color me juvenile. On my first visit to Feast, I sampled their roasted bone marrow, which is the meat-butter of the food world and superior to the myriad variations of foie gras popping up in every restaurant like dandelions in an abandoned lot. Bone marrow is like Nicky Hilton: less celubutante, more substance, and humbler than her older sister, Paris. Shoot, here we are again talking about X rated things. Moving on...

Sheltered by the sturdy bone of the animal from which it came, marrow remains soft and unctuous no matter how you cook it. I like it roasted the beast, when you can poke it out of the bone and spread it onto a well-toasted piece of bread. A few sprinkles of fleur de sel, a scoop of something bright (parlsley salad, some shallots tossed in red wine vinegar, a double rainbow, etc...), and you are on your way to a very good start.

Favre Marrow

First, get the marrow bones. Mine came from Rare Cuts, but any butcher worth their salt should be able to source some bones for you. These are beef bones, specifically from the leg bones of a cow, which as you may already know is an animal. So if you are a vegetarian, use a leek instead. Fill a large pot (one you would use for pasta) with cold, salted water. Into this place your bones. Place pot on the stove, and bring to a light boil, then lower to simmer and cook for twenty minutes. Crank your oven to 400 degrees.

Get a crusty loaf of sourdough, slice it, and toast. To make a parsley salad, combine parsley with a few sliced shallots, a few shakes of red wine vinegar, and toss. I was out of parsley and lazy, so I just tossed sliced shallots in red wine.

Remove bones from water and place on a sturdy pan roasting pan or a cast iron skillet. Into the oven for another twenty minutes. Then turn on broiler and cook for another 10. Serve immediately with a good, deep red wine. A Cote du Rhone does well.

2010 Challenge: Plebe Food

In my building there is a little lady who taunts me on days I forget to bring or to eat lunch. She has a convenience stall that sells among other things, Chili Cheese Fritos ("CCF"). CCF might as well be my culinary kryptonite. If I was ever interrogated and the torturer had a bag of CCF and a Reese's Peanut Butter Cup, forget it, I am confessing.

What is it about plebe food? We all have one or two foods we are secretly ashamed to admit we love. Lindsay has been known to be a huge fan of Corn Nuts, which are disgusting. What is your plebe food? Mine are definitely CCF. Reese's don't count as those kick ass. Last Thursday, CCF called my name loud and clear at about 2 p.m. That evening, the greatest compressed corn food of sorts, became a bowl of Red Chili. But I had to find a way to class it up, just a bit.

Frito Inspired Red Chili Recipe

This is so simple, a recipe would complicate it. This is a basic template for chili making. Feel free to add whatever the hell you want, but not corn nuts. Those are nasty.

For meat, I usually use a combination of ground beef and "stewing meat". Sear this in a heavy pot coated with a sheen of oil and season meat with salt and pepper. When browned, remove from pot. Into pot, add one onion chopped, one diced jalapeno and some garlic. Cook on medium heat, just until things are smelling great. Then add a tablespoon of chili powder or so and let the fragrance bloom. Then add a healthy tablespoon of tomato paste and stir. Deglaze pan with a bottle of beer. Then add a can of tomatoes (28 0z) and their juices, crushing the tomatoes with the back of spoon. Add the meat back. Bring to a boil, then lower to a simmer. Taste, adjust seasoning. Cook uncovered for about an hour and half or until liquid has reduced by half and the meat is tender.

To serve in the bottom of a bowl place Fritos (Scoops, trust me). Then ladle in some chili, top with  grated white cheddar. Serve with Champagne. Life is all about balance, the simple and the elegant, the Fritos and the Champagne. There is good eating and drinking found in the plebe world.

2010 Challenge: What are Ya, Chicken?

A chicken, properly trussed and keyed into the safe word, "Oklahoma"

Chicken, specifically roasted, has been on the brain for months. It all started back in March with Kevin Vizards's juicy, crisp poulet with shoestring potatoes. Then while reading Jeffrey Steingarten chronicle in painstaking detail his attempts at mastering roast chicken the envie heightened. Finally, Thanksgiving is coming, which means you have to practice roasting before the big day. Consider it Turkey Training Camp.

Now normally in the Louapre household, roast chicken is Lindsay's domain. She makes hands down the greatest contribution to the cookery scientific community with her butter rubbed roast chicken. Always perfectly moist, with a crisp skin, and well-seasoned meat, I have tried many times to best her, yet always fall short.

This last time, I followed a general outline from Thomas Keller's ad hoc cookbook. I got a beautiful 3 and a quarter pound bird from Coq Au Coin Farms chicken, trimmed the back fat (save this), and removed the wishbone with a few deft cuts from a pairing knife and a couple yanks. To get a papery, crackly crust Keller advises setting the chicken in the fridge overnight, uncovered to let it dry out. I can say without a doubt this produced an incredibly crisp skin. Which let's face it is 90% of the reason why you roast a chicken. The other 10%? The smell that it fills your house.

About an hour before you want to cook the bird, remove it from fridge, and season generously with salt and pepper. Stuff cavity with thyme and garlic then truss the chicken like a Senator at a bondage club. Let it sit at room temperature. Chop some aromatic vegetables, toss them in salt, pepper, and oil, and place in a pan, preferably a cast-iron skillet. Then make a nest and roast the bird at a high temp until cooked through.

Results? Best skin but less than ideal juiciness on the breast. I likely overcooked the bird because I cooked to time and not to temp. The lesson, once again, is Lindsay is in charge of roast chicken.

2010 Challenge: Kissing Cousins

We are well approaching the end of this year's Challenge. You are likely bored to tears with what appears to be nothing more than an exercise in how to take Asian flavors and apply them to American food. Unlike the Saints Super Bowl celebration, soon this will all be over.

But hey look for today's installment we are comparing a often beloved and poorly done Mexican dish with a beloved and often poorly done Italian dish. Whoopeeee! Or is it Andeleeee! Or should I just bid myself Ciao?

Lunch at the always good Taqueria D.F. A torta with beef cheeks, three tacos (they were out of tripe), and a big Mexican Coke. Our interest in Latin American food now piqued, Lindsay and I hustle over to a book store and sit down with about 15 cookbooks. We left with Seven Fires by Francis Mallman and Mexico: One Plate at a Time by Rick Bayless.

The next day we made the enchiladas from Rick's book. Fairly straightforward recipe. You begin by roasting some chiles in a pan, until they blister, well like a blister. Then you puree them with a can of whole tomatoes. You add this to some sauteed onions, add chicken stock, and let it reduce. Stir in some crema and you are done. Then you take some cooked and shredded chicken, roll it in softened corn tortillas into cigars, arrange in a baking dish, top with the sauce and cheese and bake. Delicious. Especially with a little grilled corn salad studded with jalapenos and tomatoes, spiked with lime juice, and cilantro.

What does this sound like? To me, it sounds like a kissing cousin of lasagna. The following weekend, I made lasagna. From scratch. And the results were just as good.

Laz

You can use lasagna sheets or make your ow using Batali's pasta dough recipe.

For the filling I went new old School. I had a pork steak (a cross cut of what would be the ham) and cubed it. Then I sauteed this in oil until crusty, removed it, and added in an onion and some garlic. Then to this I added 2 tablespoons of tomato paste and a whole bottle of zesty red wine (a Spanish blend was what I used, but a Chianti would be nice). Add the pork back in and let it all simmer until the pork is tender. Let it cool to room temperature.

Now this is where it gets slightly tricky. Bring a large pot of salted water to boil. Grease a baking dish. Add the pasta sheets one or two at a time to the water and cook for about 30 seconds. You really just want to slightly soften the pasta. Remove from water with a pair of tongs, drain and layer on bottom of pan. You need enough to cover the bottom of your dish. Then add a layer of the ragu and a sprinkling of good melting cheese (here scamorza). Repeat. Repeat again. You can top the dish with either any leftover sauce you may have or you can fat kid up with a mornay sauce. Then cover, bake at 350 for about 45 minutes. Remove cover and bake for another 20 minutes. Let rest for another 20 and serve.

So are enchiladas and lasagna related? You be the family court judge.

2010 Challenge: Winging It

For millions of Americans their sole sustenance comes in the form of wings served by large breasted women with a side of beer. It really is a shame as these wings are often puny and dry, but hey the view ain't half bad. A few weeks ago, I wrote about Larburgers, the burger craze that is sweeping no man's land. During that same meal at Siamese Thai, I made the foolish decision to order Basil Chicken Thai hot (above). My mouth burned for approximately forty-five minutes before Lindsay stopped laughing uncontrollably.

So here, you suffer for a bit. Finding large breasted women in tight shorts to serve them to you is all on you.

Grilled Thai Chicken Wings

Get yourself some chicken wings. Place them in a shallow pan and salt them. Now pepper them; now sprinkle hot Hungarian Paprika over them. Toss, set in fridge for 2-3 hours.

While your coals heat up, in a large bowl add a tablespoon of Thai Red Curry Paste. It is sold in a small jar and available in most grocery stores. To this add, a half stick of room temperature butter, and a few shakes of your favorite hot sauce. I used Rooster sauce to keep it in the Asian family of networks. Mix all of this up to create something between a solid and a liquid.

Grill your chicken wings over a low but substantial flame, until done. Then toss in the butter mixture, sprinkle with green onions and serve. Dibs on the drumettes.

2010 Challenge: Damn Fine Sangria

Football season is back. Les Miles is making a stupid decision, the Saints are still undefeated in 2010, and the lights from Tad Gormley burn bright into Friday night. Which can only mean one thing: it is time to get serious about group drinking.

With punches, pitchers of Bloody Mary's, and buckets of gin at the ready, fall is the time for people to gather around a tailgate or television, sip something potent, and curse at Les Miles. Repeated visits to Barcelona Tapas have made it clear Xavier Laurentino makes a mean Sangria. With this in the back of my mind, I set out to make some Sangria. The Sangria turned out great, it even quelled my anger at the Mad Hatter for a brief nanosecond. Who am I kidding, that is a lie.

That's a DAMN Fine, Sangria

You are going to need some fruits, some 7Up, something in or related to the brandy family, and a wine.

Here is what I did. Now "traditionally", Sangria is made with Spanish red wine. But "traditionally" LSU is a well-coached NCAA football powerhouse. Since we aren't really respecting that anymore in Baton Moulin Rouge, what is the harm in monkeying around with Sangria? I used a high acid, crisp French white wine made of Ugni Blanc, the grape for Cognac. As you remember learning in third grade, all Cognacs are brandies but not all brandies are Cognacs.

For the next act of this booze opera, I went with Grand Marnier. Why? It is what was in the cabinet and the bracing, orange hued elixir went well with the 7up and fruits. About those fruits, apple (peeled, cored, and diced), peach (diced), orange (cut into small wedges), and mango (peeled and diced). All the different textures and flavors of the fruit give you at the end of your sangria an alcoholic fruit salad. Which is important should there be screaming children around.

Pitch your fruit into your vessel of choice. A pitcher or football helmet will work. To this add the entire bottle of wine and 1/2 cup of the Grand Marnier (or brandy) and a tablespoon of sugar. Stir to combine, place in fridge, and let this marinate for an hour or so. The longer it sits the more the fruit soaks up the booze and leeches out its fruit flavor.

To serve, pour into a glass, and top with a generous pour of 7up. Or you can just dump about half of the 2 liter (so .5 of a 2 liter) into the pitcher and let it all cool together. But I like adding the 7Up on top. It gives the drink a jolt of fizziness which helps to enhance the refreshing qualities of Sangria.

Feel free to mess around with this recipe, or offer corrections. The point is at some point between now and Thanksgiving, you will find yourself staring down a nearly depleted bar at a tailgate or house party. Behind you throngs of football fans are dying for a cold refreshing drink. There is only a few seconds left to make a decision. You will look around see a magnum of Yellow Tail, some hard alcohol, a few wayward limes and orange peels, and margarita mix. What do you do? Making a drink just for yourself would be like motioning to your QB to snapping the ball with one second left and spike it.

Instead, I suggest you do more with Les.

2010 Challenge: Tartine

While checking out Tartine for our offBEAT piece, I kept coming back to the black eye pea salad served alongside the namesake quasi-sandwiches. The salad was earthy yes, but also had some zing to it. The goal was to recreate that salad by blanching some peas, combining them with a racy dressing, a dice of jalapeno and some roasted red pepper. In order to replicate the dish, the peas needed to be al dente to provide a certain substance to the salad.

But things went awry. While the peas simmered, I decided to clean my car. What? It had been about 18 months since the last time that happened. By the time that wrapped up, the peas had overcooked and were rapidly turning to mush. No worries, I know an Eagle scout.

Tea Brined Pork Smoked Pork Chop with Summer Squash Salad and Black Eye Pea Hummus

Pork Chop

Look here. Except instead of grilling, I smoked the pork chop and then seared it on a cast iron skillet, Southern sous vide style. On top of the pork chop is a little relish of roasted red pepper and shallot. Besides salt and pepper, a dash of red wine vinegar finishes it.

Squash Salad

Thinly slice one yellow squash, one zucchini, and one shallot. Over this pour a health dose of red wine vinegar, 5 cranks of black pepper, dried oregano, and a pinch of salt. Stir to combine. Right before serving, add goat cheese (I had a honeyed in the house, use whatever you like).

Black Eye Pea Hummus

In a large pot, combine one package of black eye peas (Camellia Brand) with a quartered onion, two or three smashed garlic cloves, a bay leaf, salt and pepper. Bring this to a low boil, and let cook until the water is murky and the beans are tender.

In a food processor or mixing bowl fitted with the paddle attachment, combine the beans (remove the bay, onion, and garlic), a 1/4 cup of the cooking liquid (or chicken stock or water) and the juice of half a lemon. On a low setting mix and blend the beans into a paste. If it looks dry add more water. Once you have a good paste, with the motor running, drizzle in a quarter cup of sesame oil or olive oil. Taste, adjust for seasonings (will likely need more salt).

And while we got your attention, check out this week's Table Talk with Lorin Gaudin. We are talking about Rare Cuts, Fat Hen, Horinoya, Vom Fass, and more.

2010 Challenge: Thai These Burgers on for Size

Craving spicy food on the way back from the airport the other day, Lindsay and I checked out Siamese Thai Cafe on Veterans. The larb, a salad made up of ground pork, red onion, thai basil, scallion, cilantro, lime juice and fish sauce hit the table soon after we sat down and we furiously gobbled it up. The result, much greater than the sum of its parts, is a sour, pungent blend of flavors and textures.

My mind, as most fat kids do, immediately went to hamburgers. Originally I wanted to combine the non-pork ingredients with ground beef and make a burger infused with the flavors of Siam. Figuring that worcestershire sauce is merely a descendant from fish sauce, subbing the latter for the former would not be that big a deal. But Lindsay, who is still a little mad about the peanut butter and strawberry gelato fiasco of 2010, put her foot down. "Absolutely not. Sounds disgusting and I won't eat it. Why don't you just make a relishy thing and place it on top a burger," she suggested. The term suggested is very kind.

This won't be the first time I listen to her.

Larburgers

Make a burger. It should look like this on the grill. Note: Non-cheese larburgers are the way to go.

While your fire heats up, in a small bowl combine the juice of one lime, a pinch of red pepper flakes, a teaspoon of fish sauce, and a touch of sugar. Stir to combine. To this, add some thinly sliced shallot, scallion, chopped cilantro, and torn Thai basil. Let this sit awhile and visit.

Now, for a little added kick make a sriracha mayo. This is simple, take a tablespoon (or more or less) of sriracha and add it to two tablespoons of mayonnaise. Stir to combine. Look at you, fusion master, a real restaurant would charge you an extra $1 for that step.

Assembly is simple. Mayo on bottom bun, burger, spoon over the larb relish, and enjoy. Whole wheat buns make it healthy, but you made it delicious.

The larb relish takes this burger to a whole 'nother level. You get the spice from the mayo, then the juice and bite of the burger. Up next, the unmistakable muskiness of fish sauce which contrasts nicely with the rich beef flavor. Then the cut of the lime juice and the herbs.

I always find that my favorite dishes are those that make me say in my head one of three things: a) this would be good on a burger b) this would be great on pizza or c) this would be awesome on ice cream. The moment I tried the larb at Siamese Thai, I couldn't stop thinking how well the flavors and textures of larb would compliment burgers. Call me a simpleton, but great food really comes down to that.

Try this refreshingly new and interesting take on a backyard classic and let me know how it goes.

2010 Challenge: Red Beans and Ricely Yours

"Red beans and rice...but it ain't even Monday."

Restaurant red beans often get a very bad rap. This is mostly because each of our taste buds are geared to a hyper specific version of this local favorite. Growing up, Augie took care of my two sisters and I. She came to the house two or three times a week to do laundry, cook dinner, and teach me that touching an iron is a bad idea. No red beans could ever compare to hers. They were studded with cubes of ham that had evolved into tender morsels of flavor and seasoned with little more than dehydrated onion, salt, pepper, and dried parsley.

The red beans at Freret Street Po-Boys are the best restaurant beans I've found. While they did not utilize the cubes of ham that made Augie's seem like a stew, Freret Street's red beans well-seasoned and delicious. Reducing a red bean recipe to words does no good because you already have a red bean recipe or flavor profile in your head. But after years of messing around with red bean recipes, here is mine. It will likely change next week.

Note: While it is traditional to cook and eat red beans on a Monday (traditional washing day), you probably work on Monday. Which means, you don't have time to cook red beans on Monday. But I bet on Sunday you sit around in your boxers watching I Love Money reruns and doing laundry. Plus, it is a poorly kept secret that red beans get better on the second day. So do this, cook your beans on Sunday. Eat them on Monday. Tradition adapts in order to survive.

Red Beans, Green Beans, and Rice

For the Beans

Tasso, Richards, 1 package, diced
Smoked Pork Jowl, 3 slices, diced
Smoked Ham Hocks, 2
Onion, 1, diced
Celery, 6 stalks, diced
Garlic, 6 cloves, minced
Parsley, 3 tablespoons, chopped (plus another 2-3 tablespoons for garnish)
Red Beans, Camelia, soaked overnight or one hour in hot water
Salt
Pepper
Cayenne
Hot Sauce
Bay Leaf

In a large, heavy bottomed pot, slowly bring the tasso and and pork jowl up to temperature. This will make your house smell like a pocine sauna. A good thing, for sure. Once some of the fat has rendered out of the pork jowl and a nice crust has developed on the tasso, add in your seasonings-the onion, celery, garlic, and parsley. Notice, I dont use green peppers.; I don't think they add much to the discussion.

Let this cook for about 10 minutes. Then toss in those two smoked ham hocks. Now add your presoaked beans. Add in salt, pepper, cayenne, and hot sauce to taste. Two bay leaves as well; no more, no less. Cover with water, bring to a boil, and allow to simmer until done. For me this is 8-10 half hour episodes of network TV.

Now, here is the interesting thing. You probably read that and said "Pork Jowl"? Consider it bacon's manlier cousin. The jowl melts into your liquid, thickening the sauce so that you dont have to go in there and mush half the beans. Plus, it adds this deep layer of essence of pork. Which coincidentally, would make for one hell of a perfume.

Green Beans

Green Beans, 2 fistfuls, trimmed
Rice Wine Vinegar, teaspoon
Sesame Oil, 2 tablespoons
Garlic, 1 clove, minced
Salt
Red Pepper Flakes
Pepper

Blanch the beans in heavily salted water until al dente. Meanwhile combine the salt, pepper, garlic, andd red pepper flake with the rice wine vinegar in a bowl. Using the tines of a fork, mix and then stream in the sesame oil. Remove beans from water and toss in dressing.

2010 Challenge: Stuffed Peppers

Meatloaf, fried chicken, stuffed peppers, and other dishes of that ilk belong to a rare culinary breed known as old school dishes. Most of us have experienced them in both good forms and bad. For some they represent comfort and home cooking. For others they are bad dishes which are best left in the past to be replaced by lighter fresher cooking.

I love these old dishes. Recently a lunch at American Sector got the old brain working about classic, comfort foods. After a few weeks of thinking about it, stuffed peppers seemed like a dish I needed to know how to cook. Had done them before with boudin and that proved successful, but wanted to try it again. Cue Lindsay, who after thumbing her way through numerous cookbooks, stumbled upon David Watluck's recipe in his incredible Staff Meals cookbook. (Brief tangent- buy this cookbook.)

Set out to make it on a Thursday night. Tired and hungry, taking the time to stuff the peppers and make them stand at attention seemed impossible and not worth it. So, I took the lazy way out. After cooking and blending the stuffing mixture, I simply laid sliced shingles of red pepper on top of the mixture and baked it for 45 minutes at 350 degrees.

Not Stuffed Peppers (credit basic structure to David Watluck, with some additions and subtractions)

Ingredients you need:
Italian Sausage, 1 pound
Rice, cooked and cooled, 1 cup
Onion, diced, 1 cup
Carrot, diced, 1/2 cup
Celery, diced, 1/2 cup
Garlic, smushed, 5 cloves
Oregano, dried, 1 Tablespoon
Parsley, fresh, 1 good heap, reserve a tablespoon for garnish
White Wine, 1 Cup

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

Remove sausage from casing and brown in skillet. Drain off excess fat. Add to this onion , carrot, and celery. Cook until vegetables have softened. Then add in garlic, oregano, parsley, and rice. For rice we have been using this incredible brown and red rice mixture that is nutty and savory.

Cook mixture for another five minutes. Then add white wine. Stir to combine. Layer on red pepper shingles. Bake for 45 minutes.

You see the wrinkles on the peppers? That is the skin; it is edible, but you can remove it with your fingers. This leaves the sweet flesh of the pepper which contrasts with the spicy sausage and rice mixture.

Spoon into shallow or deep bowls, depending on your personality. Top with some parsley and if you are feeling special, grated Italian cheese-pecorino romano or parmesan works wonders. Maybe a splash of good olive oil. Serve it with beer.

2010 Challenge: Picklin' Dixie

Chefs, cooks, and butchers across America have learned again the beautiful craft of charcurterie. The rediscovery of charcuterie has also birthed a renaissance in the fine art of pickling, relishing, and jamming. Terrines, pates, and rillettes fly out of the country's best kitchens, accompanied by little casseroles of mustard, sour cornichons, fruited jellies, and, of course, pickles. The acidity or sweetness, salty or sour flavor of the accompaniments harmoniously contrasts the richness of the charcuterie.

In the last few months alone, I've eaten pate de campagne at August served with no less than six accouterments. Cochon's spicy pork ribs would not be as satisfying were it not for the crunch and tang of the watermelon rind pickles. At La Petite Grocery the housemade boudin and pickles are a wonderful way to ease into a long lunch. Shoot, even the slimy, pale green po-boy pickles have a place in our cuisine.

Plus, if you choose to make pickles at home, the possibilities of pickle pun-filled commentary is an at an all time low.

Pickling

Don't worry about pickling. This is not difficult, and there is very little chance of screwing it up. You are doing little more than placing produce in an acidic and salty soak for three months in a fridge. I'm pretty certain you can handle that.

I followed the instructions in Ruhlman and Polcyn's Charcuterie. It calls for you to combine white wine vinegar, water, salt, peppercorns, pickling spice (make it yourself or buy), and dill seeds. Boil this mixture for three minutes, pour it over whatever you want to pickle, and let it sit in the fridge for 3 weeks.

You can pickle most about anything, but I started with some pickling cucumbers and watermelon rind. Into a mason jar goes your soon-to-be pickle of choice, a few sprigs of dill, and the liquid. I chose to cut up the rind and the cucumbers into little disks and cubes, but do whatever you like.

Will it work? Check back in three weeks.

2010 Challenge: I Want My Baby Back, Baby Back (or Baby Got Back)

Ribs finishing on the grill. Notice the smoke! This is not staged, but actual cooking.

The back story for this dish came from a variety of sources. One, the irresistible combination of grilled pork and fish sauce, calls to mind the pork fueled feastings at any of the city's exceptional Vietnamese restaurants. Another source, the fiery food heat of Thai food, came from a recent dinner at the new aircraft hangar sized Sukho Thai. And finally, since it was July 4th, America. (Hell, yeah!) I have been obsessing over ribs lately, so if you don't like them, sorry to bore you.

Ribs

The rib portion was based mainly on this recipe from Andy Ricker. Followed it more or less, but deviated by pouring marinade over ribs and wrapping them in foil. Also, I used Thai basil in the glaze.

Mango Slaw

I know, mango slaw has no place on a July 4th menu, but then again neither do Thai style ribs. Julienne two mangoes and a red onion. Mix it with a finely diced serrano pepper. To this add the juice of one lime, two dashes of rice wine vinegar, a teaspoon of sugar, 3 tablespoons of fish sauce, and a tablespoon of sesame oil. Stir and let it all come together at room temperature for an hour or so.

Cilantro Corn

Grill corn. Bring a half stick of butter to room temperature. Squeeze in juice from half lime. Add in a 1/2 cup of finely chopped cilantro; mix to blend. When corn comes off grill, rub butter over it. Make lewd jokes.

Plate it, eat it, and this is what you are left with.

2010 Challenge: Herbsaint's 2nd Best Dish

No visit to Herbsaint is complete for me without two very important orders. The spaghetti with guanciale and fried poached egg is one. The other is a very simple salad of iceberg lettuce, radishes, and either blue cheese or buttermilk dressing. The former makes sense because it is the greatest marriage of chicken, pig, and pasta in the Western Hemisphere. The latter though requires more explanation.

The beauty in Herbsaint's cooking is the subtle understanding of the complex mathematical theorem of addition by subtraction. Notice in the salad, the absence of candied walnuts or segments of ginger marinated orange, no 100 year old balsamic nor micro greens. Nope. None of that. Lettuce, dressing, and radishes; nothing extraneous and all perfectly done. The dressing is tart, smooth, and creamy. The radishes punch up the lettuce with their spicy flavor and earthy crunch.

Summertime in New Orleans really means salad time. The less cooking you can do the better.

Iceberg salad with Blue Cheese Dressing and Radishes

Trim the root and stem of each radish and dice into small cubes as best you can. Salt, toss, and set aside.

For the dressing, 1/2 cup of sour cream, 1/2 cup of mayonnaise, juice of one lemon, and as many squirts of Worcestershire sauce as you like in your Bloody Mary. Mix to combine, add salt and pepper to taste. Into this mix, fold in gently a wedge of blue cheese about the size of your palm, that you have broken into small chunks. Let the dressing sit for a few minutes, while you wash and dry the iceberg.

Now, just toss the radishes, lettuce, and dressing. If you have bacon, add it. Go ahead, gild that lily, baby.

2010 Challenge: Pizza Delicious

Pizza. Maybe you get bored with it, but I can't. Everything about pizza seems tailor made for obsession. The way it fits in your hand, how it is equally good late at night as it is early in the morning, how it gets along with nearly everyone, and how it never gets mad if you don't call. But mostly because it combines flavors, textures, and smells in a most perfect bite.

Lindsay and I had another run-in with Pizza Delicious a few weeks ago, this time with their homage to the Beatles white album: spinach, ricotta, mozzarella, olive oil and these candy sweet red tomatoes. Instead of trucking back to Broadmoor, we just brought some beers and devoured the pizza on the truck of our car. With the sounds of a neighborhood ping pong game in the background and the evening's river breeze, the meal rivaled anything in Christendom.

First, you gotta make or buy dough. This time I went with a two day process to craft the dough. On the first day, combine half your flour (here 3 3/4 cups), yeast or starter, 2 cups of water, and a generous tablespoon of salt. Mix this until it is a paste, cover it and stick it in the fridge overnight. The next morning you add the remainder of your flour (another 3 3/4 cups) and knead until you get a nice, dense dough. Set it aside to rise. This will give you a lot of dough, so be prepared for pizzas for days, just like this one filled with everything we could find from the fridge at the end of the week.

Our main focus that weekend was to make calzones. A calzone is not technically a pizza, but it is not far off. Translated from the original middle English into Latin it means, "pizza that has been folded over to a neat package which one should keep in ye old pocket." Now if you poke a little hole in the crust, it becomes a stromboli. If you fill it with chocolate and cinnamon, you become an idiot.

Eventually, the unglazed ceramic tile which doubled as a pizza stone in my oven cracked. A trip back to Home Depot failed to produce another as the check out girl had never rang up just one tile. 20 minutes later, I gave up relishing the opportunity to allow necessity to give birth to another child named invention. Take a baking sheet and turn it upside down. On top of this, place a silpat - a silicon coated, non-stick invention up there with the wheel of Parm. Pop this in your oven and crank the thing to as high as she'll go. When ready to bake, just place the calzone or pizza directly on the silpat. Because the sheet is inverted, there is no lip to catch your pizza peel.

The calzones were no slouches either. We plied the countertop thick with mozzarella, pepperoncinis, mushrooms, olives, and pungent herbs like basil and oregano, then set to stuffing like grandma on Thanksgiving. Fold it over, crimp the ends, rub some egg wash on top, and sprinkle some salt on the crust. Be careful, this mother will shoot piping hot molten cheese if you don't let it cool. It is a risk we willingly take.

2010 Challenge: Z Grille

For years Southerners have used soft drinks to add a jolt of sugar and flavor to everything from cakes and pies to ribs and whiskey. Usually the Southern classic, Coca Cola, gets the nod. Which is why seeing Dr. Pepper braised ribs set off some alarms. Dr. Pepper boasts of having 23 flavors, complex for sure. Cooking a piece of meat in a liquid so flavorful is not all that different from using wine.

But I didn't have anything tough or braiseworthy in the house. I did however have a pork tenderloin. So, I figured some medallions of pork seared and then coated in a reduced sauce made with Dr. Pepper would be pretty interesting and it was. Save for the fact that the pork tenderloin was "teriyaki" flavored. Grocery shopping after a long weekend leads to mistakes, remember that kids.

Pork Tenderloin with Sauce "au Poivre" and Braised Endive

Braised Endive (adapted from Tom Colicchio's Craft of Cooking)

In a large skillet, saute mirepoix in olive oil until just soft. Add to this some endive in which you have removed any discolored outer leaves. Then add in a 1/2 cup of white wine, 1/4 cup of white wine vinegar, some herbs (bay and thyme good choices), salt and pepper. Cover with water and bring to simmer. Braise for about an hour, or until tender through.

Sauce au "Poivre" (get it?)

In a small sauce pan, combine one can of Dr. Pepper and 1 cup of chicken stock. Allow this to reduce to a thick sauce on low heat. Will take about an hour. If you want, as I should have, whisk in some butter right before plating.

Tenderloins

Slice the tenderloin into medallions about an inch thick. Season with salt and pepper and let sit for a few minutes. Meanwhile heat a cast iron skillet or other thick bottom pan until whisps of smoke leave its surface. Tablespoon of lipid just to coat the pan (butter works best). Sear the tenderloins on both sides, continuously basting with the butter. Lower heat and cook to desired doneness.


To finish, place food on plate and top meat with au poivre sauce. A malbec went very well with this dish. The meal would have been better had I not accidentally picked up a Teriyaki flavored loin, but with a few adjustments, say grilling it whole and basting with sauce, this could end up in the rotation.

2010 Challenge: Gautreau's

When Dre and Dieter were in town, we spent the Saturday night before Easter in the warm embrace of Sue Zemanick, chef at Gautreau's. Of the multitude of delicious things we ate that evening, one in particular has stuck in my craw. It was a simple dish of smoky, braised collard greens topped by a perfectly crisp sweetbread. While I can complain that one orb of gland seemed miserly, the flavor of the dish spoke volumes about how talented Chef Zemanick is.

So of course I had to try it at home.

Sweetbreads with Collard Greens and Mustard Beurre Blanc

A few things off the bat. Most cuts of meat from any animal can be called "gross" by someone. That said, sweetbreads are not the balls of any animal. They come from the thymus gland of a calf or lamb, but mostly the former. When cooked properly, they become tender and rich like a teenage millionaire with low self esteem.

Now where to find them? Well, I am sure if you asked your grocer, they could source them for you. But the friendly and knowledgeable folks at the Rare Cuts in River Ridge have them in stock. Cooking sweetbreads is a multi-step, two day process. The first step is to soak the sweetbreads overnight in some cold water in the fridge. Change the water every few hours. This draws out many of the impurities and blood.

I used the basic technique for cooking sweetbreads from Susan Spicer's Crescent City Cooking. Here is the short form, mirepoix in pan, saute for 5 minutes. Add sweetbreads, wine, water to cover, salt, bay leaf, peppercorns. Bring to boil, then lower for a simmer, and cook until tender like a young woman's breast (her words, not mine).

Then plunge sweetbreads into an ice bath, place on a baking sheet, place another baking sheet on top, weigh it down, and let smoosh in the fridge for at least an hour. Then you can trim off some of the outer membrane and portion. Dust in flour and pan fry in some olive oil and butter.

While the sweetbreads cooked, cooled, and smooshed, make some collards. Saute small dice of tasso until crusty. Add to this a diced onion and some whole garlic cloves. I like to keep the garlic whole because it develops a sweet, nutty flavor. Then add your collards, some salt, hot sauce, cup of water (or stock), and slowly cook for as long as you got.

I made a simple mustard beurre blanc with some wine, mustard and butter in order to bring some acid and punch to what are very rich and hearty flavors. If you want the recipe, just ask, but Google is easier.

Cooking sweetbreads at home had its trying moments, as learning how to cook them is something that is best shown by example rather than read in a book. For instance, distinguishing between membrane, fatty tissue, and the meat proved challenging.

At the end of the excursion, we had a meal that wasn't overly challenging to prepare, but brought a sense of celebration to the table. We pulled out the nice wine glasses, the "company" place mats, and ate while the rain thundered down. Perhaps more importantly, the process also made me appreciate how a well-made sweetbread in a restaurant speaks volumes about a chef's craft.

2010 Challenge: Boucherie Grilled Caesar Salad

Conception rates in New Orleans have never been higher. This is due in large part to the Krispy Kreme bread pudding at Boucherie. It really is not anything special - just bread pudding made with doughnuts. But as they say in Algebra. the sum is greater than its parts.

Another standout on the menu, the Caesar salad, tweaks the classic with the addition of grilled romaine. Again nothing intrinsically special here. No nitrogen powered foams or reductions of foie gras cotton candy. The smoky, crusty bits of romaine serve double duty as both a conduit for a well-made dressing and a quasi-crouton.

Grilled Caesar Salad

For the Dressing:

In a large bowl, combine a chopped clove of garlic with a generous pinch of salt and anchovies if you swing that way, baby. Using the back of your fork, press down on the garlic and anchovies until you form a paste. Shake in a few drops of Worcestershire sauce and crack some black pepper. Add the juice of one lemon and an egg yolk. Mix to combine. Then whisk in a solid half cup of olive oil. Now add in some Parm to your taste.

For the Salad:

A head of romaine per person is a good rule of thumb, although one per two people will work if this is a starter course. Take a whole head of romaine and cut it down the middle (from north to south). Drizzle some olive oil, salt, and pepper over romaine. Grill for a minute or so per side.

Chop off the core and throw it away. Then cut east west into one inch segments. In a bowl add lettuce, dressing to taste (less is more), some croutons, and more anchovies if you like. Finally grate some more parm and crack some pepper.

2010 Challenge: "Bun" at Home or Why Vietnamese Food is Better Than 30 Minute Meals

Last week, Peter and I had lunch with P and R. At one point P asked us, "Why do you guys always write about Vietnamese?"

The question stopped us dead in our tracks. It was obvious from P's tone, that this young lass had never beheld the glories of chargrilled pork or slurped pho. We quickly decided against leaving the lunch and spent the next five minutes uttering non-nonsensical, onomatopoeic phrases like "It's crunchy, fresh, vegetabley things, beer food, juicy pork, just good."

We eat a lot. Most of it is not what you would call healthy, so as a detox we spoil ourselves with the freshness of Vietnamese flavors. For me, bun - the cold, noodle dish of veggies, chargrilled meats, and nuoc mam - from Nine Roses is what I crave. But a spring roll with pink shrimp, crisp mint, and bright basil also does in a pinch.Why not combine the two? It worked, but like most junkies on a detox, it just made me crave the real thing.

Vietnamese Shrimp and Fava Bean Salad

To start, go to the Crescent City Farmer's Market. Get some fava beans and shrimp. Find a friend. One of you needs to remove the favas from the pod, the other needs to devein the shrimp. Once the favas are removed, blanch them for about 2 minutes. Then toss directly into an ice bath. Once they cool, the bean should pop right out of the bitter, light green skin encapsulating it. This is labor intensive, but worth it.

Meanwhile, julienne a carrot and an onion. In a large bowl, combine a tablespoon of salt, a tablespoon of sugar, a 1/4 cup of rice wine vinegar, red pepper flakes, and crushed bay leaf. Add to this the carrot and half of the onion, let this chill out. You are basically quickly pickling the veggies. (That last sentence has a host of loose definitions.)

Fry the remaining onion until crispy and brown but not burned. Set aside. Julienne a head of romaine, but save one or two leafs to serve as wraps. The dressing you want to be evocative of nuoc mam. Combine a few dashes of fish sauce (don't have it? use soy or Worcestershire) with salt, pepper, and 1 tablespoon of rice wine vinegar. Whisk in your olive oil (3 tablespoons is the preferred ratio). Add in some torn mint.

Season shrimp with salt and pepper and grill for about two minutes per side. To assemble, toss romaine in dressing. Place saved leaf on plate and then pile on the lettuce. Drizzle some lemon over the fava beans and a sprinkle of olive oil, place next to lettuce. Top romaine with pickled veggies, crispy onions, shrimp and fava beans.

This is not a thirty minute meal by any stretch of the imagination. But then again the concept of restricting your cooking repertoire to thirty minute meals is a lot like letting a pretty girl know that you only intend to have sex with her for 2 minutes tops. But if you have nothing to do on a Saturday and you can't make it to the West Bank, this will do.