We be hammin'

I tried an interesting twist on one of my favorites this year - a baked ham.

Its almost like a simple braise. So simple it has two ingredients: ham & rootbeer.

The ham was a small one from Niman Ranch, a company whose product I love. and the root beer has to be Virgil's. It's a cut above most out there. It's lightly carbonated, sweetened (but not too much) with cane sugar. What really makes it great is it's huge complexity resulting from spices and roots. Unlike almost all commercially available root beers , it's actually brewed.

I poured two bottles in a pan , plopped in the ham, covered it and baked the thing @ 300 degrees for around four hours, flipping it every 45 min. or so.

It turned out pretty ok. The ham wasn't the cut I was hoping for, it was leaner than I expected, so it didn't soften up as much as I wanted. However, the resulting glaze was out of this world. The cooking time left it the perfect consistency and I finished it by whisking in a dollop of Dijon and a sprinkle of Chinese five spice. The specifics need tweaking, but the potential for greatness is certainly there.

The resulting sauce was definitely something to remember. It's so dark
it looks burnt, but the concentrated Virgil's was amazing with the ham.

Gravy 101

Somehow the notion of gravy has this weird aura surrounding it, but I don’t really know why.

I think it deals partly with the fact that a lot of people who aren’t normally in the kitchen are taking on holiday meals. Gravy seems to be how most of those-new-to-the-stove commiserate.

“It was lumpy” . . . “It was bland.” . . . We didn’t have nearly enough!” . . . etc. etc.

Recipes hit it from all different angles, starting from different points, using various techniques and assuring different “fool-proof” methods.

And while the majority of them work in their context, you don’t walk away with much info on how to derive a gravy from various situations.

Maybe this will help:

You start with your flavorful liquid – giblet jus or chicken stock . . . and you add a roux . . . and that’s it.

First the liquid: Whatever it is, you just have to isolate it so that you can measure it. I would say it should be a dynamic, not just a wine or a juice, but a but a developed combination of flavors (a stock of sorts). I usually figure on a quarter cup a person, which is very generous, but I still manage to run low anyhow.

Next the roux: They say equal parts flour and butter . . . well yes, but that’s by mass and not volume. In other words, you have to weigh it, not measure it. Because flour can vary so much in mass to volume ratio.

But for those of you that don’t’ have an electronic scale.

It’s pretty much 1 tbsp of butter to 1 tbsp+1 tsp flour. You warm this duo up in a small pan and cook for about a minute, essentially toasting the flour slightly. Make a healthy portion of this to have on the side.

Now, you bring the liquid (whatever it is) to a boil and you stir the roux in. Roughly one cup of liquid to two tablespoons of roux. This method should prevent lumps and bumps, but if it doesn't you can puree the gravy in a blender and/or pass it through a fine sieve.

roux should look thinly sandy in texture.

The roux’s thickening characteristics don’t take effect until the liquid boils and the individual starches explode, like tiny popcorn. So when you add roux, give it a minute before you judge whether or not you need more.

Now the tricky part.

You have to assess it and adjust a little bit at a time.

Do you like the thickness?  If it is too loose, add more roux and boil. If it is too think, add more liquid.

If it is flat tasting?There can be two issues here. 1. The flavor is there, but it's not accented by enough salt . . . in which case you add salt.  2. There simply isn't great meaty flavor there, in which case I sneak a bullion cube into the gravy.  

Add a drop of acid (lemon, vinegar {maybe balsamic})  Unless you started with some tangy white wine, your gravy will benefit from a touch of acid.  It brightens the flavors. 

Think about sweetness? Sometimes a touch of honey, maple syrup or brown sugaris a great addition. 

Gravy should easily coat a spoon. I love mine with a lot of freshly ground black pepper.

If it aint broke . . . .

As a cook I'm always trying new twists and interesting takes on things, and I had to check my self-criticism in regard to the way I make sweet potatoes. I love them, and they're very nutritious. and every year I prepare them in one of two ways both with chipotles, and always as an extra dish I can put out without any work.
I had been racking my brains trying to think of a new way to include sweet potatoes. . . . until an annual eater at my thanksgiving feast checked in to make sure I would be making my chipotle sweet potatoes.
And all the pressure just went away. As a cook I'm always striving to strike a balance between keeping it interesting without getting wacky and giving the people comfort food to remember.
It's a fine line.
Here are my two super easy sweet potato recipes:

The first is to melt one tablespoon of butter and one teaspoon of salt, with two tablespoons of adobo (the sauce the chipotles are in). Cut the sweet potatoes into about 2 inch cross sections.
Lay down a little of the chipotle butter, set the sweet potatoes, and some more butter on top.
Roast in the oven (375ish) for about 25 min. or until they are "fork tender"
This takes very little time, even for large numbers of people.



They get beautifully browned.

The second is a mash.

4 Sweet potatoes
3 tbsps butter
2 tbsps Adobo suace
1 Chipotle pepper, chopped

1. Rub the sweet potatoes with oil and salt and roast in the oven (375ish) for around 40 minutes or until "fork tender". (They're delicious just like this by the way, plain and simple)
2. Allow to cool slightly, peel off the skin and crush with butter, adobo sauce and one chopped chipotle.

Some browning where the sweet potato is in contact with the pan is fine.



These reheat beautifully.
For me they'll go down in history as one of my favorite midnight snacks.

On the importance of stock: battling water in a world of flavor

The emphasis on stocks in the culinary world used to baffle me a little, but as I’ve matured, my love for a good stock as surpassed just about everything else. I don’t necessarily mean “stock” in the classical sense, so much as any flavorful liquid derived from ingredients. (though that is pretty much exactly what stock is)

In the building flavor, water is the enemy. It dilutes, muffles, and puts a general damper on the good taste the cook is trying create. For this reason I strongly advise against just adding water to a dish in order in increase moisture. One should always hold out for a more flavorful liquid: wine, beer, coconut milk, apple cider. . . or a really good stock.

Great stock is really what sets apart the best soups and saucy preparations. It sets the foundation on which to build depth of flavor. Something you can’t achieve from a can, box, or little cube of msg. (each of which you can find in my kitchen, I’m not an elitist, just an idealist)

This recipe will yield a healthy two quarts of stock, a nine dollar value at the store for around six to seven dollars. Of course the flavor blows the store bought stock right out of the water . . . flavorless drab water.

And yes- it takes a little more effort. But done right, stock is the gift that keeps on giving. First of all it helps you extract great flavor from things you wouldn’t otherwise eat (shells, bones, herb stems, veg. scraps) capitalizing further on maximum value. And while I’m not a fan of the stockpot-is-my-trashcan mentality, stock is a great way use older ingredients on the edge of edible.

AND after I make this chicken stock, I go back and pick the meat off the wings for chicken salad.

Roasted Chicken Stock

Ingredient amounts are rough, reasonable variations will still make a good stock.
3 lbs chicken wings (any bird bones or carcass will do)
3 medium onions, skinned and roughly chopped
3 large carrots, rinsed and roughly chopped
5 large celery stalks, rinsed and roughly chopped
5 cloves of garlic
1 tbsp black peppercorns
2 bay leaves

Optional:
- 2 cups of wine (I even try to cut back a little on my water use when making stock)
- herbs: thyme, rosemary, sages, parsley, etc etc. in fact about the only herb I wouldn’t put in is lavender. We’re making stock, not soap.

Just don’t add anything from the cabbage family, (broccoli, Brussels, radish, turnip) as they release sulfur in a long cooking process, not something you want in your stock.

For more extensive list of stock do’s and don’ts go here.

1. Preheat your oven to 375 degees. In a baking sheet, spread out your wings and roast for 40 minutes, or the they are nicely browned.

They should get beautifully tanned like this, it makes for great character in the stock.
2. Scrape your roasted goods into an eight quart stock pot and add the remaining wings and your veggies. → This step really only applies if you’re using wings; because callogen cooks out of the wings when roasted, adding a few raw at the end really adds some body to the stock.
Optional: warm you baking sheet over a low burner. Once hot, use a cup of white wine to deglaze. Scraping up and dissolving all the yummy caramelized bits. Add this liquid and bits to the stockpot. This is optional because it can be tricky to manage a lot of hot liquid in such a shallow vessel.
3. Using COLD water, cover your stock fixins by about two inches and set over a low flame. Allow to come to a simmer (just a few bubbles constantly surfacing).
4. Over the next four hours, occasionally take the time to skim the scum of the top.
5. Through a fine sieve strain out the liquid and allow to cool.

Today's addition:
I had this king oyster in my fridge for a while. It didn't have any foreseeable uses coming up, so I thought he might be good for the stock, but I browned him well before adding him in:







Thin slices of mushroom browned well can add huge flavor.

Further crazy ideas: Because I’m nuts, I like to freeze my stocks in ice cube trays. It’s the perfect portion size when pulling together meals for 2-6 people. Just drop in a cube or two of stock and you’re good to go.

Once cold, the finished product should be jelly-like, implying good body and viscosity.