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Apr. 15th, 2012 10:03 pm
Beer braised
Somehow I ended up fixing dinner tonight. It all started before lunchtime when ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
monshu dragged me along to Jewel to "pick out something for dinner" while he went to pick up meds. Being my mother's son, my eye was caught by $4 off blade roasts of pork, so the Old Man ended up lugging a four pounder all the way to Clark Street, where we got some nibbles from Middle Eastern Bakery before catching the bus back north. On the way, he told me to "find a good recipe" when we got home.
I went through several issues of Cooks Illustrated without finding anything interesting. Bittman had a good-looking recipe for cinnamon-cumin pork steamed in banana leaves, but it required five hours slow cooking. Instead, I fell back on a generic wet roast in Mimi Sheraton's German cookbook, mainly because of the onions it used. (Jewel had true Vidalias by the bag.) A simple recipe, simple enough that even I could follow it.
By this time, we had both risen from our nap and eaten lunch. (We've gotten in the habit of noshing on meat and vegetable pies from MEB warmed in the oven.)monshu was busy on the computer doing the finances, so I went into the kitchen and started assembling ingredients. I decided to toast the caraway seeds in the cast iron casserole just to see if it made a different, then I bruised them in the mortar along with coarse salt and a little coriander and rubbed down the roast.
I wanted a little caramelisation on the onions, so after searing the roast, I sautéed them a bit in oil. Then I set the meat on top, poured most of a bottle of Sam Adams Winter Ale over it, tossed in some juniper berries and a cinnamon stick, and stuck it in a preheated oven. After that, all I really did was turn it once. When it was fall-apart tender, I took it out, put the pot on the stovetop, and puréed the onions with the immersible blender. They thickened the sauce so nicely that we didn't need anything else, just a little mustard to cut the sweetness.
We ate it on the back porch with rye bread and a salad of butter lettuce, spinach, and the last of the greens in the garden. (The weather has been so warm that they've mostly bolted already; today I ripped out a half dozen which were on the verge of blooming.) I ended up throwing together a mustard vinaigrette for that, just as last night I made a sweet one with a spoonful of honey. I was tempted to try my woodruff syrup out in beer, but I figured a black lager would go best with the meat and I really couldn't imagine adding woodruff to that.
Already before the GWO set the table, it was almost as dark as night, but the rains didn't cut loose until I was ready to serve dessert. We still had a piece of cake left over from last Thursday and I decided to moisten it with a bit of heavy cream I was too damn lazy to whip. It was a leisurely meal, perhaps the last we'll have for a while ifmonshu's work picks up the way we expect it will. Particularly for me, since I think I'll be seeing myself pressed into service far more often in the future.
monshu dragged me along to Jewel to "pick out something for dinner" while he went to pick up meds. Being my mother's son, my eye was caught by $4 off blade roasts of pork, so the Old Man ended up lugging a four pounder all the way to Clark Street, where we got some nibbles from Middle Eastern Bakery before catching the bus back north. On the way, he told me to "find a good recipe" when we got home.I went through several issues of Cooks Illustrated without finding anything interesting. Bittman had a good-looking recipe for cinnamon-cumin pork steamed in banana leaves, but it required five hours slow cooking. Instead, I fell back on a generic wet roast in Mimi Sheraton's German cookbook, mainly because of the onions it used. (Jewel had true Vidalias by the bag.) A simple recipe, simple enough that even I could follow it.
By this time, we had both risen from our nap and eaten lunch. (We've gotten in the habit of noshing on meat and vegetable pies from MEB warmed in the oven.)
monshu was busy on the computer doing the finances, so I went into the kitchen and started assembling ingredients. I decided to toast the caraway seeds in the cast iron casserole just to see if it made a different, then I bruised them in the mortar along with coarse salt and a little coriander and rubbed down the roast.I wanted a little caramelisation on the onions, so after searing the roast, I sautéed them a bit in oil. Then I set the meat on top, poured most of a bottle of Sam Adams Winter Ale over it, tossed in some juniper berries and a cinnamon stick, and stuck it in a preheated oven. After that, all I really did was turn it once. When it was fall-apart tender, I took it out, put the pot on the stovetop, and puréed the onions with the immersible blender. They thickened the sauce so nicely that we didn't need anything else, just a little mustard to cut the sweetness.
We ate it on the back porch with rye bread and a salad of butter lettuce, spinach, and the last of the greens in the garden. (The weather has been so warm that they've mostly bolted already; today I ripped out a half dozen which were on the verge of blooming.) I ended up throwing together a mustard vinaigrette for that, just as last night I made a sweet one with a spoonful of honey. I was tempted to try my woodruff syrup out in beer, but I figured a black lager would go best with the meat and I really couldn't imagine adding woodruff to that.
Already before the GWO set the table, it was almost as dark as night, but the rains didn't cut loose until I was ready to serve dessert. We still had a piece of cake left over from last Thursday and I decided to moisten it with a bit of heavy cream I was too damn lazy to whip. It was a leisurely meal, perhaps the last we'll have for a while if
monshu's work picks up the way we expect it will. Particularly for me, since I think I'll be seeing myself pressed into service far more often in the future.