Thanksgiving Hangover

Autumn in a Squash Shell

Thanksgiving was a Week Ago–What Would You Make Again and Bring to Work?

As Thanksgiving progressed this year, it became clear to me that it might turn into a lesson on making unique and attractive food side-journeys rather than learning how to make a proper turkey. Out of the depths of the cooking extravagance that is American Thanksgiving came three particularly interesting parts of the meal:

• Delia Smith’s bread sauce,

• Cooki Collinet’s Cranberry Relish, and

• a Bon Appetit recipe for wild rice-stuffed acorn squash.

Delia Smith in a Gravy Boat

These three dining event accents are elements that I would use at just about any dinner. And the acorn squash stuffed with wild rice looked perfect for a reheated lunch at work. I can easily imagine making these ahead of time and then placing them in tupperware for work–pulling out on of these golden squash will blow your colleagues’ minds.

I’ll dole these recommendations out one blog-post at a time, so I don’t overwhelm. Let’s begin with the squash as it seemed the easiest. Now, that’s easy for me to say, as I didn’t have to slice and seed the squash. Cooki told Georges to slice them horizontally, and then seed. Roasting them should have been easier. Instead, not listening to his wife, he sliced them from stem to stern and then looked a whole lot prettier. Not practical, but pretty.

The recipe is a fairly easy to assemble.

Wild Rice Stuffed Acorn Squash

First bake the scooped out squash shells for 30 minutes to 40 minutes at 375 degrees. Take them out and let them cool.

Ready for Dinner

Make one cup of wild rice according to the instructions, then quickly fry up onion with some garlic in oil or butter with salt and pepper add in the chopped herbs near the end, as the onions begin to carmelize.

1/4 stick of butter

2 T lemon juice

2 T crumbled sage leaves

1/3 c chopped dried apricots

1/3 c chopped pecans

1 c finely chopped onions

1-2 garlic cloves minced

Garish of pomegranate seeds and with 1/8 c of finely minced parsley

Wow the visual! And the taste is very nice. These can be done waaaaaay ahead of time and then reheated in the oven just before dinner. Just stick back in a 375 degree oven for 25 minutes, if the squash have been sitting at room temperature for the afternoon, add in the cooked rice mixture, and it’ll be ready in 25 little minutes to eat right there.

Or you could bring them to a friend’s house as a side dish, just finish them in your friend’s oven. Let them know ahead of time, but they’ll probably be grateful for the fancy touch to their fall/winter table.

Now imagine bringing these beauties to work!

The reheating solution here, is to refrigerate them overnight and then by the time you get to work, just don’t put them in the fridge when you arrive at 9 a.m. By the time 1 p.m. rolls around, you’ll just need to nuke them for a few minutes slowly. If at room temperature when you start, just cover and start microwaving at 30 seconds. Then let this rest for a minute. 30 more seconds and then place into the toaster oven to finish. Just put on “toast” like you are going to toast a slice of bread until dark or medium dark.

Funny, work places with toaster ovens provide the best lunchtime options, really, for reheating food. You can almost simulate home cooking.

I also think that you could just put the squash in the toaster oven on 400 for 20 minutes if you start with a room temperature squash, and it’ll be ready, tasting like you had made it at home.

One last option, if you get your squash fully thawed before you begin, you can also just scoop out the rice concoction separately and then reheat just the rice. Microwave the squash shell for about one minute separately. Once they’re both done, scoop rice back into the hot shell and toast. This final option should provide you the best approximation of what you had when you made it at home earlier in the week.

Finishing the Dish:

Another nice touch is to finish it with a chicken or turkey-based jus. Make your stock or use some from the Swanson’s box. I’m a big believer in Swansons. Then first fry up a little finely diced onion and a touch of garlic in butter, add in one tablespoon of flour and stir while it gets hot. Add in stock, until it has the consistency of a thin gravy. You don’t want a thick gravy here.

Coming Soon: Cooki's Cranberry Relish

- See more at: http://www.alunchboxblog.com/thanksgiving-was-a-week-ago-what-would-you-make-again-and-bring-to-work/?preview=true&preview_id=684&preview_nonce=dde9f187c9#sthash.7PgW9uKK.dpuf

Holiday Bread Sauce

Preparing for Thanksgiving!?

And now, finally, a guilty pleasure for the coming Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Years holidays. At Thanksgiving a couple of years ago, Sarah and Wendy made their (in)famous(ly) caloric bread sauce. It’s a gorgeous white sauce for roasted meats. And it rates a giant “Wow” on the Wow-o-meter.

Dry Bread into Bread Crumbs

It’s a strange concoction, indeed. Gravy made of bread. I mean really, check these pictures out!

When you wake in the morning, the kitchen counter, should look like this:First, dry your white bread out, this should done overnight with bread that’s getting old or is fresh that you need to get dry quickly.

Trundle off to the cutting board and cut off the crusts. Run through the Cuisinart and then set aside the breadcrumbs.

Separately, heat milk with at least one onion sliced in half and pitted with cloves. Add salt and pepper to the milk. Turn off when the milk comes to a boil and let the onion and cloves steep.

Readying the Milk

The details of the making of the sauce can be found here, and while the final product may not look tantalizing in the lousy pics my non-SLR camera can take, you should make a pork or beef roast soon and give this a try. Or save up the energy for this year’s Christmas.Delia Smith is the genesis of this particular treat–although Sarah and Wendy have really made it there own. As I say in previous posts, Thanksgiving is a wonder of gorging, but this sauce is a unique experience and Deliais the place to find this recipe. The kids will worship it, the adults will shy away from the fat and calories, but everyone will enjoy the sinful goodness that a British holiday tradition can bring.

Bread Sauce in all it's Glory!

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Cooki's Cranberry Relish

Cranberry Citrus Relish

Let me be honest here. I hate cranberries generally. Dried cranberries in particular. However, it appears to clearly be because some truly terrible commercially produced berries. The CSA delivery service I used to use called Arganica Farm Club make a dried version of cranberries that–like Cooki’s relish, the recipe which appears below–are a relevation. Out of Ruckersville, Va., Arganica has a lot of flaws, but wow, when they hit the sweet spot, they can change your taste in food.

Cooki’s Cranberry Relish is a side treat from Thanksgiving and Christmas meals that could be used as an accompaniment to a zillion things: my suggestion is cold meats like a sandwich you don’t want to gussie up with mayonnaise. Use Cooki’s cranberry relish, and you’ll not go wrong–impress your friends with the savory, tangy zip of this easy-to-make party favorite. Also handy to have at the office, to use with meals there.

Cranberry Citrus Relish

1 bag of cranberries from your average supermarket

1 entire navel orange skin, pith and all (My suggestion would be to zest first, then scrap/peel off the pith and limit the amount of pith you use. But then, this wouldn’t be Cooki’s Cranberry Relish anymore…)

3/4 c white sugar

2″ knob of ginger

Blend in a Cuisinart, and you are done.

Serve with various foods, hot and cold.

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How To Cook A Bolognese Sauce

Thank you Catherine for directing my attention to this incredibly fun and fiesty blogpost on how to Cook (like an Italian). Errrrr...I meant, how to cook a Bolognese sauce without leaving the house to get to the Olive Garden.

I hope you find it as hilarious as I did.

A reprint from The Awl

by Alex Balk August 18, 2010

Brendan Koerner points us to what he calls “the fluffiest newspaper article ever.” It is headlined, “Bolognese a sauce of optimism,” so you can kind of see his point. But forget about that. Have I ever shared my recipe for Bolognese with you? I have not? Well, it is a terrific recipe, passed down through an unbroken chain of Italian grandmothers and one of the first things I remember watching my own Italian grandmother make. 

It is not at all difficult, and is not particularly labor-intensive, unless you find chopping and stirring to be labor-intensive. You ready to learn? Let’s do it! Vegetarians will want to go somewhere else about now.

Cover the bottom of a big pot with olive oil. Set the burner to medium heat. Get an onion and chop it up. White or yellow, whatever, it’s your call. Just don’t use red, because the only thing red onions are good for is salad. Anyway, toss the onion into the oil and stir it around for a few minutes. Two or three should do it.

Chop a carrot and a couple stalks of celery into the tiniest pieces you can. Trim and clean these first, obviously. Actually, if I need to tell you that, stop reading now and go buy a jar of Bolognese from the grocery, because that’s all you deserve. Dump ’em in and stir them around for another couple minutes. Everything should be soft and mushy but not exactly brown. You’re doing great!

Take a thin slice of ham or roast pork (or prosciutto if you really want to be fancy. Look at you, Mr. or Mrs. Moneybags! You can afford a meat that starts at $25 bucks a pound. Or at least it should. I certainly hope you’re not using domestic prosciutto. That’s just wrong, and it offends the Italian part of me. Anyway, if this is the way you’re going to go, use a couple of slices.) Sliver it and saute for a minute or two.

Now it’s time for the ground meat. A word here: Even I, who will put pretty much anything into my body without regard for origin or cleanliness, am extremely cautious about ground meat, because a lot of it is filled with what scientists refer to as “doody.” You should probably buy it from somewhere you trust, and preferably somewhere you can watch them actually grind it up. Either way-hey, you want to eat what scientists refer to as “doody,” you go ahead, I’m just saying is all-you’re going to need about two pounds of it. 

I’m partial to all beef. You can do a beef/veal/pork blend if you like, but beef should predominate. (If you have problems with veal, I understand. It’s terrible what they do to those little baby cows who will never get the chance to grow up to be big cows. Still, I think it’s nice when they can all wind up in the same sauce together.) Put the meat in and mix it around for about five minutes or so. Don’t overcook, by which I mean you do not want it to look like it is something you are ready to eat right now. Keep it pinkish.

Liquid time. Get a cup of dry white wine (if you don’t have any, a cup of dry vermouth will do. Hell, I’ve used a cup of red wine before and the difference has not been particularly notable.) and pour it in. Stir occasionally, but let the meat “drink” the wine so that it kind of evaporates into the mix. Figure a couple of minutes on this one. Next you’re gonna take a cup of milk and do the same thing. Here’s the part where the old Italian ladies will tell you that the milk should be hot, but I think this is something they make up just to keep you busy and show that they’re in control. It doesn’t matter what temperature the milk is, it’s all gonna wind up in the meat all the same. You hear that, nonna? It doesn’t matter. When the milk is gone (it’ll take longer than the wine did) add another cup of wine, same deal as before.

[A NOTE FOR THOSE OF YOU WHO DO NOT LIKE TO COOK WITH ALCOHOL: You’ve got your reasons, I guess. I’m not gonna judge. You can replace the wine with beef stock. BUT, the beef stock should absolutely be made fresh. Nothing from the store, got it? I would have given you my personal recipe for beef stock had I thought about this in advance, but the idea of a life without alcohol is so alien to me that I only just now remembered that there are some people who swing that way. I’m sure there plenty of good recipes on the Internet. Good luck.]

Finally, the tomatoes. Figure out how thick you want your sauce. You want it ragu style? Get one can. You want it a little more liquidy? Two cans. Either way, you are REQUIRED BY ME to be using a 28 ounce can (or cans) of whole, peeled San Marzano tomatoes. In this matter there can be no dispute. If you find yourself unable or unwilling to use San Marzano tomatoes I refuse to allow you to make my Bolognese. Seriously. Get out of the kitchen and go take a good, hard look at yourself in the mirror. Ask yourself, “Why am I such a fuckhead that I refuse to use San Marzano tomatoes? Am I the sorriest son of a bitch God ever put upon His green earth?” Nod twice to confirm to yourself that you are. Then go to the Olive Garden, because you’ll almost certainly love it, and after the realization that you are the sorriest son of a bitch God ever put upon His green earth you could probably use some cheering up.

The tomatoes go in the blender. Pulse them until the consistency is mostly juice, with a few chunks remaining for character. Pour it into the pot and swish everything together. Add a shitload of salt (or slightly less if you’re not trying to give yourself an aneurysm like I am) and a couple of bay leaves (don’t forget to take them out at the end, because there are few things more unpleasant than getting an errant bay leaf caught in your throat) and drop the heat down to low. You wanna let this simmer for three hours or so. Check back every thirty minutes and give a little stir. You’ll probably have a sense of when it’s ready. If you’re going on 4 hours you’re almost certainly done and may have even fucked things up, but it’s really difficult to ruin this sauce, so more than likely you can pull it out. Serve over whatever pasta you like (a thick noodle is best) and freeze what you don’t use. This also makes a more-than-decent replacement for regular tomato sauce in pizza.

There. Was that so hard? Don’t thank me, thank my grandma. Who is dead. (But not from this sauce.) But if she were here I’m sure she would be happy to tell you you were welcome, right before she told you how you were doing it wrong. Old Italian grandmas. Always with the correcting. I guess that’s one of the things we love about them. Anyway, enjoy.

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Red Wine and a Little French Toast

2007 Barboursville
Cabernet Franc
13.2% Alcohol
$24.99


2007 was a very good year at Barboursville, Virginia. This is one of, if not THE oldest wineries in Virginia and they make a heck of an interesting broad selection of wines. Their 2009 and 2010s were all good. The only years to positively avoid are the 2011. They've had strong Sauvignon Blancs as well. But this Cab Franc.

Yummm....what a terrific, tannic red!

It’s not everyday that you get to dig this deep into the terroir of a Virginia wine at this low of an alcohol level and feel surprised. The 2007 Cab Franc from Barboursville is truly surprising for a red from the mid-Atlantic. The winery itself provides one of the best wine tasting experiences I’ve had in Virginia. Thankfully, Virginia wines are getting a hell of lot better.

Surprisingly, especially the reds. I was impressed to find that according to the winemakers,

“This bottle is the house red wine at THE INN AT LITTLE WASHINGTON, it responds to a knowing demand for a characterful, intriguing, and refreshingly well-bred wine for dining.” 

The Inn at Little Washington restaurant is the home of Patrick O’Donnell, the pope of American farm-to-table dining. So I suppose if he likes it, then…

The winery goes on to describe it as possessing, “…dark garnet core, brilliant clarity in the glass. Intense, effusively luscious flavors of ripe red berries with caramelised notes of fig, cherry, and plum, elegantly woven together in barrel. Long-finishing and tannically vivid, yet with a remarkably soft palate.”

I would largely agree, as would Georges. And Georges would know. As I typed this out, Georges and I toasted the holidays with a bottle of this Barboursville Cab Franc. From Cameroon, and educated in France, Georges felt it was time to share an old French “toast” with me. It was rude and inappropriate, so I thought perfect for this site’s Wine Fridays:

A Little French Toast 

“To our horses and to our women. And to those who mount them!” 

Well, I’m sure it sounds much better in French. ‘bless that Georges! Oh the manliness! Have a terrific Friday.

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2007 Pinotage Robertson’s Phanto Ridge

Wine Friday Returns

2007 Pinotage

Phanto Ridge

$14.99

14%

WS 86 Points

Sherry’s in Woodley Park, Washington, D.C.

I usually like to go on and on about wine. It can be terribly annoying. But then there's the bottles that disappoint or just leave you thinking...lazy winemaker.

That's the problem with just a ton of wineries these days. They are locations for weddings, not wineries. And some of the grandest, oldest names in the biz have gotten in the act. And for me, that's incredibly annoying.

in my cursory notes on this Pinotage, a grape varietal from South Africa made of Cinsault and Pinot Noir grapes, you'd think the national grape would be flawless all the time. But like Virginia's Cab Francs and Viogniers and France's Sancerres, they're not always as billed. And they're often what you'd think of as a national or state grape varietal. You'd think pretty flawless every vintage. But you'd be wrong.

Deep,dark fruit; Pinotage is kinda tobacoo-ey. Does have the "band-aid" taste on the nose. It’s a full-bodied red with a rich thick-tongued swathe of cherry and wood.

Generally, Robertson’s wines are not South Africa’s best. Pinotage from South Africa can be commanding. And why Robertson, one heck of a well-heeled winery, cannot make magic out of their grapes in anyone's guess. Wine Spectator did give it a better rating than I would have:

“A bit jammy, with fig and plum notes that gush forward, while hints of dark toast, spice and licorice fill in the background…"–James Molesworth

But overall, it lacks a strong finishfor me and was left wanting.

Still, it’s good to know where you stand next time you find yourself in front of the wall of wines and the South Africa section is facing you. Choose wisely and don’t choose Robertson’s. 

I’ll let you know when it’s safe to go back into the waters again with Robertson’s.

Robertson Label Close Up

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