Saturday, January 28, 2012
There are tons of hippies in Portland with nothing better to do than smoke reefer and play in their backyard. The most fashionable trend in “urban gardening” is chicken husbandry. I’ve had backyard eggs, small farm eggs, and industrial factory eggs. They all taste like fucking eggs. People are just so busy masturbating to the idea they are saving the goddamn world by having pet chickens that their pliable brains tell them they taste better. They don’t. In any case, last night I went “urban chicken egg hunting” and made some scrambled eggs this morning. Tomorrow I’ll post a recipe for Whole Roasted Urban Chicken.
Crack the eggs into a bowl and add sour cream, water, salt, and pepper. Whisk them together until the yolks are completely combined with the whites. Melt a little butter in a pan over medium to medium-low heat depending on the calibration of your range. Pour in the eggs and let the bottom set ever so slightly. Using a wooden spatula, pull the sides into the center allowing the liquid to gain access to the heated surface while simultaneously removing the slightly cooked portion from direct heat. As soon as the entirety of the liquid has barely become solid, pull the pan off the heat source and slide the eggs onto a plate.
I used the eggs to make this breakfast sandwich. It has mayo, fancy salami, and a bloomy rind cheese from Vermont. Eat it.
Friday, January 13, 2012
1 Head Romanesco
Salt & Pepper
1/2c White Wine
2 Garlic Cloves, minced
1/2 Small Yellow Onion, minced
A Handful or Two of Fancy Mushrooms
1/2c Whole Milk or Heavy Cream
“What the fuck is that green stuff? Did you create some sort of broccoli/weed hybrid?” That, my brain-dead hippie stoner friends, is romanesco. It’s like a cauliflower except it has flavor. When you are done trying to smoke it out of “Stevie Ray Bong,” break off a nugget and eat it. It tastes pretty good raw but roasting eliminates a fair amount of the bitterness.
Slice the romanesco head in half, lengthwise. That’s top to bottom, dumbass. Pull all the nuggets off the core, rise with cold water, and toss with vegetable oil, salt, and pepper. Spread them out on a baking sheet and roast at 375 degrees for about 35 minutes flipping them halfway.
In a small saucepan combine the wine, garlic, onion, mushrooms, and salt. Simmer over medium-ish heat until a good amount of the wine has evaporated. Pour in the milk/cream and reduce until thickened.
“What kind of white wine should I use? What about this dusty bottle of 2006 Burgundy Chardonnay I found in my uncle’s basement?” While I believe the creamy butteriness of such a wine would be a good fit for this dish, there is no need to use such a valuable wine. Conversely, you don’t want to use Yellowtail either. I used a Chablis because that’s what I was drinking. If I were drinking a Marlborough Sauvignon Blanc, however, I would avoid using it due to the typical passionfruit/guava overtones. Since the sauce will be poured over steak, the best white wine would be a big, heavily oaked chardonnay. This is probably the subject for a post in and of itself but suffice to say the wine’s flavor should reflect the dish in which it is to be used and vice versa. “So…Thunderbird?” Sure, why not?
Cook your steak like any other steak: Salt, pepper, and a hot ass cast iron skillet. If it doesn’t bleed when you cut into it, you fucked up.
Like the yak and truffles, I got all the fancy mushrooms and romanesco at the Portland winter farmer’s market. For a winter market there is actually quite a bit of shit available. It’s at Shemanski Park downtown and I would highly suggest checking it out. Don’t let the name fool you; there are no Polish people, just a bunch of ladyboys. Eat it.
Thursday, January 12, 2012
1/2tsp Dijon Mustard
2tbl White Wine
3 Egg Yolks, reserve the whites
1/2oz Oregon White Truffles, shaved
1/2c Extra Virgin Olive Oil
1lb Ground Yak
3 Egg Whites
Fresh Bread Crumbs
I checked out the new Portland winter farmer’s market downtown last weekend and found a vendor selling yak meat. People in less fortunate, crappier countries probably eat yak because there is nothing else to consume in their barren wastelands but here in the real world rich white yuppies eat that shit up because it is ‘exotic’ and ridiculously expensive. Unfortunately, I am a sucker. I laid out $10 a pound for fucking ground yak and proceeded to purchase Oregon white truffles at $10 an ounce. I’m such a good cracker.
I made an aioli type of sauce thingy with white truffles to go on the burgers. Dump the first five ingredients in a food processor and blend. While the blade is running, slowly pour in the olive oil. Done.
Ground yak is quite lean so you can form them into patties straight up but I didn’t want to throw away my leftover egg whites so I mixed them with the meat. This made a goopy mess so I diced up some baguette and tossed it in to soak up the egg white. Add some salt and pepper. Form the mixture into patties and cook.
Assemble the burger. I hope you are capable of figuring that part out on your own but judging from the ridiculous email questions I get from you morons probably not.
I was absolutely floored by the incredible tastiness of this burger. It was like licking an Angel’s taint and I’m not talking about that chick with the sharpie eyebrows. The price is pretty outrageous but two huge burgers with the truffle sauce were only about $7 each. I can live with that. I noticed they take food stamps as well so you’re in luck. Eat it.
Monday, January 9, 2012
1/2c Goose Fat.
Since reserving the fat from my Christmas Goose I have been on the lookout for interesting applications. This total moron I know and [unfortunately] lives near me, @conoat, said he was going to fatwash some rye whiskey so I stole his idea and made it better. That’s the American way.
Heat the fat over medium heat until it starts bubbling. Dump the brandy in a mason jar, pour in the hot fat, slightly cool, and cover. Shakeweight that shit every ten minutes for a couple hours or you can just pay that bitch Tina from the corner who gives one dollar handjobs to do it for you. Put it in the freezer overnight.
Pull the Gooze from the freezer, let briefly thaw, and run it through one of those metal mesh thingies. Pour it into another mason jar and put it back in the freezer. Later that day, remove it from the freezer and let it briefly thaw. Put a coffee filter in one of those metal mesh thingies and pour it through. Don't forget to put a receptacle under the strainer. Been there before. Squeeze to drain out all the remaining Gooze.
Bacon vodka can lick my anus; Gooze is the fucking shit. You can sip it straight up or create some kind of hipster bullshit cocktail. As an added bonus, you can smear the congealed booze fat on your toast or pancakes. If your boss asks why you smell like hooch at eight in the morning at least now you’ll have an excuse. Drink it.
Wednesday, January 4, 2012
2tbl Goose Fat
10 Red Potatoes, cut into 1/8ths
1 Yellow Onion, diced
3 Pints Goose Juice
2 Pints Water
1 Bunch Italian Kale, roughly chopped
1 Bunch Red Chard, roughly chopped
Reserved Goose Meat, shredded
This rich winter warmer soup is the perfect evening meal to sip in front of the fireplace at your getaway lodge in the mountains but since you are currently shot gunning room temperature generic tomato soup out of the can in front of the radiator at the halfway house I’m probably wasting my time. Here it goes anyway.
Cook the potatoes in the goose fat for a long ass time. “This one red potato is really big! I should still follow the directions exactly and cut it into 1/8ths?” Are you fucking simple? Cut it into 1/16ths or some shit. Everything is different and nothing is ever the same. There are potential variations everywhere so at least try improvising on something as simple as how big a fucking potato should be. When the potatoes are softened, add the onion and stir until softened and fragrant.
Bust the juice into the pot and add the water. Depending on the intensity of the broth, you might want to change the amount of water. Bring it to a boil and simmer for five minutes. Add the Italian kale and simmer for ten minutes. Add the red chard and goose meat and simmer for another ten minutes. Woo your wife, wife’s younger sister, or wife’s elderly mother by serving this soup and asking, “Would you like to guzzle my goose juice?” Eat it.
No, I am not talking about ejaculate you fucking sicko. I made literal goose juice from my Christmas dinner. Some people, stupid American ones, just huck the thing in the trash but I, as a non-moron, utilize every edible part of all the dead animals I consume. Not because I’m some Earth humping hippie but because I paid for that shit so I’m going to bleed it dry. If I paid a hooker for two hours and finished my business in an hour and a half, I’d make that bitch stare at the wall for another half hour while I finished off the blow.
Preserving the Fat:
After cooking the goose fucking strain the liquid fat through one of those mesh metal thingies and put it in the fridge, super genius.
Making Goose Juice:
Shove the carcass in a big ass pot. Barely cover with water. Simmer for six hours. Pull out the bones, run it through a mesh metal thingy, pour it into jars, and store in the fridge for maximum freshness. Not rocket surgery here people. Don’t forget to reserve the meat for future applications.
My goose was flavored perfectly so I didn’t need to do anything else but since your goose will suck, you might want to add some seasoning and mirepoix. That’s what French people and pretentious dicks worldwide call celery, onion, and carrot.