Trouble With Toast

This was probably the most complicated recipe I’ve ever attempted–I started in the kitchen at 4 PM, and we didn’t sit down to eat till after 8 PM (and that didn’t count the overnight soaking of the beans).  Some of the time was inactive, like when the beans were simmering, but there was still a lot of work involved.

The finished product was very tasty, though the soup never achieved a real chili-esque consistency (it was more like black bean soup).  When I make this recipe again, I will cut the amount of water and maybe throw in a good stout as a substitute for some of it.  The pork was good, but largely unnecessary, so next time I’ll make a meatless version and save some time and money.  The best part was the homemade salsa (even though roasting peppers in a broiler is a giant pain in the arse)–it really gave the chili a refreshing kick, and it would be great by itself on chips or with some huevos rancheros or something.  The recipe came from the March Bon Apetit magazine–enjoy!

Chili:

• 2 tablespoons olive oil
• 2 large onions, chopped (about 1 1/2 pounds Total)
• 12 garlic cloves, chopped
• 7 tablespoons New Mexico chili powder
• 1 1/2 tablespoons ground cumin
• 14 cups (or more) water
• 1 1/2 pounds dried black beans, rinsed
• 2 1/2 teaspoons dried oregano (preferably Mexican)
• 1 1/2 teaspoons finely grated orange peel
• 1 1/2 teaspoons minced canned chipotle chiles in adobo

Salsa:

• 6 fresh poblano chiles
• 1 cup finely chopped white onion
• 1 7-ounce can salsa verde
• 1 1/2 cups chopped fresh cilantro
• 4 teaspoons cumin seeds, toasted

Crema:

• 2 cups sour cream
• 2 teaspoons minced canned chipotle chiles in adobo

Pork:

• 2 tablespoons olive oil
• 3 pounds country-style boneless pork ribs, cut into 3/4-inch cubes
• 1/2 cup low-salt chicken broth

For chili:
Heat olive oil in heavy large pot over medium heat. Add chopped onions and garlic and cook until onions are translucent, stirring often, about 8 minutes. Add chili powder and ground cumin and stir 1 minute. Add 14 cups water, black beans, dried oregano, and grated orange peel. Bring mixture to boil; reduce heat to medium-low, cover with lid slightly ajar, and simmer until black beans are tender, about 2 hours. Add chipotle chiles and season chili to taste with salt. Simmer until black beans are creamy, mashing coarsely with potato masher to desired consistency, adding more water by 1/2 cupfuls if too thick, and stirring frequently, about 30 minutes longer. Season chili to taste with more salt.

For salsa:
Char poblano chiles over gas flame or in broiler until blackened on all sides. Place in large bowl, cover with plastic wrap, and let stand until cool enough to handle, about 20 minutes. Peel, seed, and chop chiles. Place chiles in medium bowl. Add onion and salsa verde. Season to taste with salt and pepper.

For crema:
Stir sour cream and minced chipotle chiles in medium bowl. Cover and refrigerate.

For pork:
Heat oil in heavy large skillet over high heat. Sprinkle pork ribs with salt and pepper. Working in batches, add pork ribs to skillet and cook until browned, about 7 minutes per batch. Transfer pork ribs to medium bowl. Return all pork ribs and any juices to skillet. Add chicken broth, cover, and reduce heat to low. Cook until pork is tender, stirring occasionally, about 40 minutes. Transfer to another medium bowl.

Meanwhile, rewarm chili. Stir cilantro and cumin seeds into salsa.

Divide chili among bowls. Top with pork, salsa, chipotle crema, and shredded pepper jack cheese.

After reading this month’s Bon Apetit, Food & Wine, Cooking Light, and Real Simple magazines, I had torn out about 20 recipes that I really wanted to try.  Since I couldn’t decide which one would be first in line, I asked my boyfriend (a.k.a., my guinea pig) to pick Saturday night’s experimental meal.  He opted for these delicious lamb burgers, and they really turned out well.  The combination of the cinnamon and paprika gave the meat a nice smoky tinge, and the mint chimed in at the end of each bite to add a little refreshing kick.  The spinach, onion, and feta salad was the perfect accompaniment, and you could easily serve it on the side if you didn’t prefer to top the burgers with it.  Jason really liked the texture of the lamb and found it to be a nice change of pace from the usual beef burger.  Enjoy!

• 1/3 cup fresh chopped mint
• 2 teaspoons paprika
• 3/4 teaspoons ground cinnamon
• 1/2 teaspoon salt
• 3 tablespoons olive oil, divided
• 1 1/3 pounds ground lamb
• 4 hamburger buns
• 1 1/2 cups baby spinach leaves
• 1 1/3 cups crumbled feta
• 4 1/4-inch thick red onion slices
• 1 1/2 teaspoons balsamic vinegar

Mix first 4 ingredients and 1 1/2 tablespoons oil in medium bowl; mix in lamb.  Shape into four 3/4-inch thick patties.  Cook patties in large nonstick skillet (I used a grill pan) over medium-high heat.  Note: the recipe says 4 minute per side for medium, but I cooked mine 5 minutes per side, and I still got rare to medium rare.  Granted, that’s what I was going for, but I just thought I’d let you know to go with your own timing if you don’t like your lamb baaaa-ing at you like I do.

Meanwhile, preheat broiler.  Broil buns until golden, about 2 minutes.  Top each bun bottom with burger.  Toss spinach, feta, onion, vinegar, and 1 1/2 tablesponns oil in bowl.  Place salad atop burgers.  Cover with bun tops, pressing firmly to compact.

Last week, my parents let me crash at their place, use their car, and generally disrupt their lives (hey, it’s what kids do, even when they’re all growed up).  So, to thank them, I offered to cook them dinner one night while I was in town.  My mom is somewhat persnickety about the ingredients she likes and dislikes, so I opted for a cavatappi with sauteed vegetables.  There was a recipe that I started with (I believe it was from Regis Philbin’s wife, of all people), but I modified it so much and it was so easy that there’s really no point in digging around my luggage to find it.  Basically, I sauteed the garlic, broccoli, sundried tomatoes, and mushrooms in a little olive oil while the pasta cooked and the chicken browned; the “sauce” was nothing more than a little bit of dry white wine and some chicken broth.  I added fresh chopped basil at the end–I think the original recipe called for dried, but that idea was wholly unacceptable to me.  Oh, and I threw in some red pepper flakes for kick, but not nearly enough for my taste.

That’s the beauty of these simple pasta dishes–you can throw in whatever you like, omit whatever you don’t, and enjoy a home-cooked meal that is healthy and easy to prepare.  And the leftovers were great!

During my jaunt to Athens, Georgia, last week, I decided to treat myself to one nice solo dinner. Being a college town, the Classic City isn’t exactly chock-full of haute cuisine options. However, 5 & 10–a restaurant that I had visited once before, right after it opened, about eight years ago–garnered the Atlanta Journal-Constitution’s “Restaurant of the Year” title in 2007. What better reason to give it another taste?

I decided to take my chances at the bar instead of securing a reservation, so I got there early (about 5:30) to make sure I could snag a stool. There were about 4-5 older folks at the bar already, and they looked to be regulars, so I immediately thought I’d be neglected by the bartender (bad to assume, I know, but past precedent weighs heavily, especially when you dine alone as much as I do). Not so–he was very attentive and knowledgeable. I asked for a glass of something white and dry, and he came up with a chenin blanc that was on the wine specials list for the day. Hit the spot.

I had a hard time deciding how to proceed food-wise. Nearly all of the entrees looked delicious, but I wanted to try as many varied things as possible. So, in the end, I had three appetizers and a dessert. First, I chose the cauliflower soup with butter poached Maine lobster and chive cream ($9). It was creamier and a little thinner than the version I recently had at Proof (which I loved), but the flavor was really good. The lobster didn’t really add or subtract from the dish, which causes me to conclude that chefs should just leave their cauliflower soups alone and stop adding seafood (Proof’s version had cornmeal-crusted fried oysters, and I thought they were superfluous as well).

Next, I ordered a half dozen oysters on the half-shell. Now, you may not think that’s the best dish by which to test a chef’s mettle, but as an oyster-lover, I pay great attention to the care that is taken in selecting and presenting raw bar items. In this case, the oysters (which were Kumamotos–small, but briny and somewhat sweet, and absolutely fantastic) were served with a homemade cocktail sauce and a mignonette, and it was a wonderful middle course (especially when paired with an insanely reasonably priced $6 glass of cava).

Earlier in the evening, the bartender had raved about the ahi tuna tartare with cornichons, shallots, lemon, parsley, ponzu, citrus salad, and haricots vert ($14). It sounded fabulous, so I decided to end my appetizer tour with the dish, and the presentation was certainly gorgeous (and the quality of the fish was top-notch). However, it seemed to me that the chef was rather heavy-handed with the ponzu, as the sauce often overpowered the flavor of the tuna (especially near the bottom of the mold, where the fish was sitting in a puddle of the liquid). I’ve had a lot of tuna tartare, and this one was certainly good, but I didn’t think it deserved all of the praise it received.

For dessert, I noticed a bourbon pecan pie on the specials menu, and I had to go for it–after all, I make a mean bourbon pecan pie myself, and I wanted to see how 5 & 10 would stack up against my baking prowess (intense sarcasm intended). Shockingly enough, I really and truly thought that my pecan pie was the superior dessert–this version was rather uninspiring. The Coca-Cola ice cream that came with the pie, however, was one of the best things I’ve ever put in my mouth. Amazing. And I don’t even like ice cream all that much.

Three appetizers, a dessert, two glasses of wine, a beer (a Victory Prima Pils that was on special), tax, and tip added up to $82. The service was very good, and the atmosphere was energetic and casual (except for the primped up sorority girls who got busted for having fake IDs–ah, college). But I walked out of the restaurant with a furrowed brow–was that REALLY the best restaurant in Atlanta?

I applaud the AJC’s food editors for realizing that there exist great culinary possibilities outside of the perimeter (or OTP, as we ATLiens would say–haha). However, it is hard for me to believe that there isn’t a single restaurant in the metro Atlanta area that can beat 5 & 10 in terms of a total dining experience. To say that the best restaurant in Atlanta resides in Athens (which is a good hour and a half outside the city) is, in my mind, to severely denigrate the many great dining options that one can find right downtown.