Showing posts with label corn. Show all posts
Showing posts with label corn. Show all posts

Sunday, September 16, 2012

Pork tacos for Mexican Independence Day and #SundaySupper


I must confess: Until a few weeks ago when the idea of a fiesta for Sunday Supper was first suggested, I had no idea today is Mexican Independence Day, the day when the Grito de Dolores (Cry of Dolores) was first sounded on September 16, 1810. Now the day is commemorated throughout Mexico with the ringing of bells, singing of the national anthem, and reading of the names of the heroes of the Mexican War of Independence.

My knowledge of Mexico is pretty weird and spotty. I love the great modern painters of Mexico, such as Frida Kahlo, Diego Rivera, and Rufino Tamayo. As an anthropology major in college, one of my favorite teachers specialized in Mexico, so I learned a lot about mestizo and indio cultures, as well as a rather detailed ethnography of a fishing village on the Gulf coast.

Unfortunately, I don't have a lot of firsthand experience of the rich culture of Mexico. I spent half a day in Juarez nearly 20 years ago. What do I have an inkling of is the richness of Mexican culinary heritage. Mexican food culture runs deep. Take something as simple and profound as a corn tortilla, which represents a legacy of transforming a simple wild grass (teosinte) into domestic corn over about ten thousand years. But that's not the whole story of corn, consider also the discovery of using slaked lime to make the nutrients of the corn available for human consumption. Another example of the brilliant, extraordinary food heritage that belongs to all humans. Because of this brilliance and the complex flavors that corn tortillas give to food, I've used corn tortillas here, but feel free to use flour tortillas if you prefer them.

Another nod this recipe makes to the deep and complex history of Mexico (and the Americas in general) is in the use of pork (and well, I just like pork). In some ways, pigs could be the poster child of the Columbian Exchange, which Charles C. Mann describes in his fascinating book, 1493: Uncovering the New World Columbus Created. Pigs were first brought to the Americas by Columbus himself, who had eight pigs on his ship (just in case). However, Hernando de Soto really introduced the pig into the Americas. His original 13 pigs became 700 in just a few years, not counting the escapees that became the feral pigs we still see today.* Sadly, the pigs were probably also one of the most important vectors for the diseases that decimated the Americas and distorted our perception of the level of New World civilization and the number of people who lived here before the arrival of Europeans.

I could probably go on and on about the origins, history, and heritage of the ingredients in this dish, but it would likely get tedious for anyone but the biggest food and history geeks out there. Suffice it to say that just about every food we eat has roots and history and meaning, has a story. It's easy to forget when faced with brightly colored plastic packages in the grocery store that shout "New! New! New!" and sport long lists of unpronouncable words, but not so easy to forget when faced with the dignity and simplicity of a warm tortilla, or the complexity of a mole sauce. At any rate, this recipe is a nod to Mexico and to the Columbian Exchange. I hope you enjoy it.

Ingredients

For the pork:

  • pork shoulder (also known as a pork butt), about five pounds
  • 2 cups orange juice
  • 1/2 cup soy sauce
  • juice from two limes
  • 2-3 large cloves garlic, peeled and smashed
  • 1 onion, thinly sliced
  • 1 tsp ground cumin
  • 1 tsp ground coriander
  • 1 Tbsp dried oregano
  • 1/2 tsp dried and ground chipotle pepper (you could also use some chopped, canned chipotles, about a Tbsp)
  • 10 black peppercorns
  • 1/2 tsp salt
For the tacos:

  • shredded pork, drizzled with some of the juice from cooking
  • corn tortillas, warmed in a cast-iron pan
  • fresh tomato salsa (or just chop some good tomatoes, a little onion, a little bell pepper, and a little cilantro)
  • sour cream mixed with some milk so that you can drizzle it
  • shredded cheese, if desired

 Directions

  1. Combine all the ingredients for the pork in a Dutch oven, or other heavy cast-iron pot with a lid. Place it in a 300-degree oven for three to four hours (turn over the meat at least once). This would probably also work well in a slow cooker.
  2. Let the meat cool a little and then pull it off the bone and shred it using forks. Drizzle the meat with some of the cooking liquid. (Strain the liquid and set it aside for another use.)
  3. Heat the tortillas and serve with the shredded pork, salsa, sour cream, and shredded cheese.
And now that you have some delicious, tasty tacos (if you have any leftover meat, consider making some quesadillas tomorrow, or top a salad), why don't you check out all the wonderful recipes that the Sunday Supper crew is serving up for a Mexican Independence Day fiesta. Also, please share your favorite Mexican and Mexican-inspired recipes during the #SundaySupper chat on Twitter at 7 p.m. Eastern time.

Sopas (Soups), Ensaladas (Salads), and Entremeses (Starters)



La Comida (the Food)


Postres (Desserts)


Bebidas (Beverages)


* "A History of Pigs in America" by Mick Vann, The Austin Chronicle, April 10, 2009.

Thursday, July 19, 2012

Creamed corn: An easy, delicious side dish


I'm really not trying to post every day, but I made some creamed corn for dinner that was so delicious, I just have to share how incredibly easy it is to make from scratch. You should do it. Why get the stuff in a can when you can make your own with fresh corn from the farmer's market? So grab a few ears and try this. You won't regret it. (Sorry there's no pic of the dish itself, but it just disappeared too fast.)


And if you happen to have a roast chicken with some pan drippings, you know, just around, in your kitchen, drizzle some of the drippings on the creamed corn. You will swoon with happiness. And you'll ask whomever else is at the kitchen table with you if he or she is going to finish that, and you are going to swipe the rest of the corn. I just know it. DO IT! It's going to be great. 

Ingredients

  • 2 Tbsps butter
  • 1 large shallot, minced
  • corn kernels from four ears of corn
  • 1/2 cup water
  • 1/2 tsp sugar
  • 1/2 cup heavy cream (or half and half, if that's what you've got)
  • salt and pepper
  • a pinch of nutmeg (preferably freshly grated)
  • 1/4 tsp smoked paprika


Instructions


  1. Melt the butter in a pot over medium heat. 
  2. Add the shallots to the butter. Cook them until they are soft and slightly browned. 
  3. Add the corn kernels to the shallots and the butter. Stir and add the water and the sugar to the corn. Let it cook for about 7-10 minutes. (The corn should be cooked, but it's nice if it still has a little crunch.)
  4. Add the cream and let it cook with the corn for 3-5 minutes, enough to thicken the cream. 
  5. Season with salt, pepper, nutmeg, and smoked paprika. Enjoy!    

Tuesday, July 17, 2012

Steamed mussels with corn, tomatoes, and bacon...and a confession about envy


I am flawed. Few days pass me by without a struggle to manage anger, fear, anxiety, and, perhaps worst, envy. Oh yeah, envy, that nasty little twit of a demon that sits around highlighting how successful person A is; and how well person B seems to manage a career, a family, and a glamorous life; or how gorgeous person C's food photograph is; or...the list goes on. I know envy is bad for me. I know envy doesn't tell me the real story of another person's life and accomplishments. I know envy doesn't tell me the real story about what and who I am and what I have accomplished. And that's why I fight with it, try to talk it away. It doesn't always work.


These daily struggles is one reason why it's so refreshing to be with a friend or a person whom I admire and feel deeply for without the tiniest scrap of envy or anger or anxiety. I can simply enjoy his or her skill, competence, self-confidence and feel peace. I think I am able to articulate this for the first time because of last Sunday, when we went to dinner at a friend's house, a friend my husband and I haven't seen in a long time. She knows I have been doing the Grand Tour, introducing my son to different countries and their cultures, food, history, art, music, anything that comes up. She's Indian so she suggested we comes over for dosas (she knows I love them) and have India week. So we did. 


And while we were there, I sat back and watched her. I loved the genuine affection she immediately showed my son, whom she's never met before. I enjoyed watching her strong hands as they skillfully spooned idlis out of the steaming trays, or placed them on plates for the children to eat; her hands were fast and steady, but unhurried. Her demeanor was calm, competent, and loving. She's smart, skilled, successful, manages her household well, and yet she induces no envy in me, only peace and a sense of being cared for. It's indescribably wonderful. And such a relief from the evil spirits that seem to infest my mind half the time. (And, no, I don't really think that evil spirits infest my mind. It's just a metaphor, OK?)


Anyway, this has nothing whatsoever to do with the steamed mussels with corn, tomatoes, and bacon I ate a little while ago and now am going to share with you. It's just a thought, an aside, and a tribute to a person who made me feel welcome, full of admiration, but free from quotidian poison. It was truly lovely.



So, let's move on the mussels. I hadn't been to a regular grocery story in a few weeks, but we were almost out of toothpaste, sandwich bags, canola oil, cheese cloth, canning labels--the kind of things that are hard to find at an organic market or a farmer's market, so my son and I went. While we were there, I had the idea that I wanted to make something with mussels for dinner (after all, I recently found out that farmed mussels are OK to eat according to the Monterey Bay Aquarium Seafood Watch, and I really enjoy mussels). So I got a bag (I also got a couple of gorgeous sockeye salmon fillets, but that's a story for another day). When I got the mussels home, I took them out of the plastic bag they were in and put them in a container full of ice in the refrigerator. As I was putting them away, I got a whiff of them and was immediately entranced: A briny, fresh, salty smell came from them, clean and bracing as the ocean. I was entranced. I don't remember ever smelling mussels like that.



When thinking about how to prepare them, I knew I wanted to use some of the sweet corn and tomatoes I got from the market last Saturday (after a visit to another friend on Saturday, we walked away with more tomatoes, beans, and squash, so we've really got a bit of produce glut). I decided to steam them with the mussels in some wine, with a little bacon, and oh yeah, how about a sprinkling of homegrown parsley to round it out? This was a tasty, fresh summer meal, cooked in a just a few minutes.




A note on cleaning mussels and food safety: Most recipes that include mussels have you "debeard" them with a sharp knife. Truth is, most of farmed mussels you get these days don't have much of a beard, perhaps one in ten will. But the beard is kind of a yucky, stringy business that isn't going to please anyone at the table, so definitely cut them off when you find them. Also make sure that you scrub each mussel thoroughly; that will help eliminate any grit. If any of your mussels are already open before you've cooked them, discard immediately (that means they are dead, and you don't want to cook dead mussels). Also, if any of them don't open after you've steamed them, again, discard.




Ingredients

  • 2 lbs (1 bag) farmed mussels, scrubbed, sorted, and debearded
  • 4 slices of bacon, sliced thinly
  • 1/2 onion, chopped finely
  • corn kernels from three ears*
  • 1 cup cherry tomatoes, halved
  • 2-3 cloves of garlic, crushed
  • 1 cup dry white wine
  • salt and pepper to taste
  • a handful of chopped, fresh parsley (or any other herb you've got growing in the garden)


Instructions


  1. This dish takes very little time to cook, which means that preparing all your ingredients in advance is especially important. So first thing, prepare your ingredients. 
  2. In a large, deep pan, cook the bacon over medium heat until it's golden brown and crispy. 
  3. Add the onions to the pan, cook them until they are soft.
  4. Add the corn, tomatoes, and garlic. Stir until the garlic is fragrant. 
  5. Add the mussels to the pan. Stir a couple of times.
  6. Add the wine and cover the pan with a well-fitting lid. Let the mussels steam for 5 minutes. Remove the pan from the heat. 
  7. Just before serving, season with salt, pepper, and parsley. Make sure to give everyone some bread to soak up the broth, which is so delicious, it's ridiculous. Imagine you are by the sea and relax.  

* A few days ago, I tried to describe how to cut the kernels off the corn cob for my corn chowder post, but I am afraid I didn't do a good job of it. Hopefully the following images do a better job of showing how to do it. Stand the cob up on its end (cut off the end if the cob shifts around too much on the cutting board), hold the knife perpendicular to the cob and slice down, cutting off corn kernels in sheets.

Saturday, July 14, 2012

Corn chowder: A little crunchy, a little salty, a little sweet, a lot of warm in a bowl

What a week! Multiple deadlines; complicated and unrelated topics (I am just glad I didn't mix up marine engineering with physician documentation, or at least I hope I didn't); nonstop push, push, push to get the work out the door. I still have a deadline pending (but it's a few days away, so I am taking tonight for me--sort of, I am still waiting for an email, but we are going to pretend tonight is all for me).

But I've been a lousy mom, letting my boy run wild in the house, scatter Legos all over the place, build some enormous structure. I don't want this kind of week to be the norm; I want to do better for and with my boy this summer. I suppose this is the last summer I will be "stuck" at home with him. Next year, he'll be old enough to start attending camps, and about a minute later he'll be off to college and starting his own family.

No, I know. There's plenty of time left. It just may not always feel that way. Sometimes the weeks get away from you so much faster than you ever imagined they could.

I did get a homecooked meal on the table every night this week. (Leftovers are always a such a gift.) We still eat out way more than I would like, and that's not good for many reasons, including expense, calories, and unknown ingredients and sources. Furthermore, I just feel guilty about how inconsistent eating out a lot is with the way I want to live (no matter how much I try to eat from restaurants that use sustainable and/or local ingredients).

But it was hard this week. Partly because I was so rushed and exhausted with projects all week, and partly because our stock of chicken, pork, and bacon from Haskins Family Farm was down to nothing but some bacon ends. But I got plenty of vegetables from the farmers' market last Saturday (perhaps too many), including some corn and potatoes, which to me says corn chowder. I love corn chowder, but I only make it during the summer. That's the only time the corn in the soup retains it sweetness and crunch. And with a tiny bit of bacon to start it off, well, that only makes it a little smokier, a little saltier, a little more complex.

This soup can be made with a combination of potatoes. In fact, if you were to switch out a few of the potatoes for sweet potatoes, that wouldn't hurt at all. Nope, not at all. Also, if you like a little more heat (I do have to keep in mind the fact that my son is five), I would highly recommend chopping up a chipotle canned in adobo sauce and add some of that to the soup.

Sadly, I didn't get a picture of the soup. I was too rushed, trying to get food on the table. Next time I make it, I'll try to get one to spruce up this post a little more. In the meantime, here's the recipe.

Ingredients

  • 6 slices of bacon, cut into small pieces (about an inch wide)
  • 1 yellow onion, finely chopped
  • 1 jalapeno, seeded, membrane removed, cut into small pieces (the membrane is where most of the heat of a jalapeno resides)
  • 6 fist-sized potatoes (a mix is always fun, but use anything you have on hand), cut into about 1/2 inch dice
  • kernels from 6 ears of corn (to slice it off the cob, cut off a small end piece so that you can stand it upright, then cut down the edge of the corn with your knife; the kernels will peel right off)
  • 6-7 cups chicken stock 
  • 1-2 cups of heavy cream (or half and half, if that's what you have and are inclined to use)
  • 1 teaspoon ground cumin
  • salt and pepper to taste
Instructions
  1. In your stock or soup pot, cook the bacon slowly, allowing as much fat to render out as possible and letting the meat get nice and brown and crispy. (Can you smell that?)
  2. With a slotted spoon, pick up the nicely browned bacon bits out of the pot and set them aside in a bowl lined with paper towels for the time being. 
  3. Add the onions to the bacon grease in the pan. Over medium-low heat, let the onions sweat for about 10 minutes. They should be nice and soft and "translucent," but not really brown. And they should smell amazing. 
  4. Bring up the heat to about medium and add the potatoes to the pot. Let them cook for 5-10 minutes and let them get a little brown around the edges.  
  5. Add the jalapenos and the stock to the pot. Add salt, pepper, and cumin to the stock. Bring the stock up to a boil and then lower the heat to a simmer. Let the potatoes cook about 10-15 minutes. 
  6. Add the corn to the soup and let it cook another 10 minutes. 
  7. Add the heavy cream or half and half and the reserved bacon and let the soup warm up again (about 5 minutes over medium-low heat; you never want to boil cream). Taste the soup to find out if you need any more salt or pepper and adjust accordingly. (It's not easy to correct an oversalted dish, but you may be able to add some more cream or some water if the seasoning isn't wildly off.)
  8. Eat. Enjoy. Be happy. Have a nice evening with your family.