Brisket - two ways

Before I get into these two recipes, I want to say a few words about Deer Creek Beef. For some time, I've been reading about this big trend for local, sustainable food. And, although I'm not prone to sacrifice for the sake of fashion, a lot of the arguments I've read actually make sense. I'll still buy artichokes and avocados shipped from California, since I don't see any alternative. But around here, there are plenty of seafood and produce stands. So when it's in season, I buy my produce locally, and get my seafood locally. I was a bit bothered that I didn't know how to get meat locally. Especially considering that I drive by a LOT of farms every day. So I did some snooping around. From a fantastic website devoted to local food in my region; Edible Chesapeake, I discovered Deer Creek Beef. That was some months ago. Last month, I finally got around to dragging myself up to the Bel Air Farmers market, and bought a $50.00 sample pack. Over the next two weeks, I sampled their roasts, steaks, ground beef, etc... Every thing I tried was absolutely delicious. I wouldn't have thought there'd be much difference, you know? It all comes from cow. But the guys over at Deer Creek Beef take a great deal of care in their entire operation. All the beef is dry cured for 3 weeks, and I have to say, there must be something to their methods, because I haven't tasted better beef. And it ends up being less expensive than buying comparable cuts at the super market. For any of you who are local to Harford County, MD, I'll also mention that you can buy their meats at the Mill of Bel Air all year round, in case you don't get out to the farmer's market often. The Mill of Bel Air has a freezer case by the front door, and I also found out that if you call them a day ahead, -- they'll put together a sampler pack for you. So, Deer Creek Beef has made a local sustainable believer out of me. And both these recipes were made with a brisket I purchased from them this weekend. (Really, one brisket was enough for both of these).

Brisket, you may know, comes from the front of the cow. Not a forward area of the side, the actual front of the animal. You might think of it as a chest plate. So there's a fair amount of connective tissue, and it gets a fair amount of work. Both of these factors make this cut an excellent candidate for low / slow cooking methods. And on the weekends, those are usually my favorite methods. Something about slowing everything down and giving the food time to become really delicious, is appealing to me and offers a break from the mad dash of the weeknight dinners when I'm trying to get everything done in less than 40 minutes so I can get everything else done and things set for the morning, not to mention running the kids around to various practices, meetings and so forth.

My favorite treatment for a brisket is smoking. However, my Lovely Charming Bride waxes reminiscent of our favorite barbeque joint in Alpine, CA, Ramon's. Ramon served a delicious smoked brisket that was shredded. So, I decided to cut this brisket in half, and smoke half of it, and braise the other half. The braised half would get shredded. Next time, I think I'll smoke it for an hour or so, then braise it.

Following are both recipes. I should mention that whether smoking or braising, you'll get favorable results by starting with an overnight marinade, and a rub. Both of these started out this way.

The Rub:
2 parts seasoned salt
3 parts fresh ground black pepper
1 part paprika

The marinade:
1 cup vegetable oil
1 cup apple cider vinegar
1/4 cup worcestershire sauce.

Mix the seasonings together and rub them into both sides of the brisket. Put the brisket in your favorite air-tight marinating container, and cover it with the marinade and refrigerate it. (if it doesn't cover, then turn the brisket halfway through the marinade process) This should soak for about 8 hours.

Before you start with the next steps, you'll want to take the brisket out of the refrigerator, and let it come to room temp. (about 30 minutes.)

Braised Brisket:
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1 Cup beef stock
1/2 cup burgundy
2 Tbsp worcestershire
1-2 tsp liquid smoke.

Preheat your oven to 275.
Get a cast iron pan fairly hot. (medium, to medium high)
Sear the brisket on both sides. (1-2 minutes per side.)
Place the brisket in a roasting pan.
Mix together: beef stock, burgundy, worcestershire, liquid smoke.
Pour the liquid over the brisket, and lift it a bit to make sure some gets underneath.
Cover the pan with foil, and put it in the oven for 2 1/2 - 3 hours.
After that, remove the brisket from the pan, and let it rest a bit.
Cut it across the grain, in 1-2 inch widths.
shred each strip with two forks.
Take the liquid in the pan, and pour it into a sauce pan.
Put the shredded brisket in with it, and simmer until the liquid reduces and concentrates into the meat. This could take 30 minutes to an hour. You'll be baby-sitting the pot during this stage to ensure that it doesn't scorch. In other words, --stir it occasionally.

Smoked Brisket:
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Braising is slow cooking with moist direct heat. Smoking is slow cooking with dry, indirect heat. (and smoke, of course) Smokers come in all shapes and sizes, and you'll want to follow the directions for your particular style of smoker. I'm partial to charcoal, and hickory. But you can do this with a propane grill, and a lot of folks prefer mesquite, apple, or pecan wood for smoking. Regardless of the type of wood you choose for flavoring, the process is largely the same.

Soak your wood chips for at least 30 minutes. While the wood is soaking, start your fire. My smoker has an off-set firebox, so I pile the charcoal on pretty heavily. When the flame dies, and the corners of the briquets are gray, put the brisket in the main part of the smoker, just under the smoke stack. (The vent is open on the firebox, and the lid to the smokestack is also open, which draws the smoke through. The brisket is about 18 - 24 inches from the fire.) Close the lid to the main chamber of the smoker, and add some wood chips to the charcoal. Then close the lid to the firebox, but leave the vent open. My smoker has a built in thermometer, making it easy to maintain the temperature. When the temp gets below 200, add more charcoal. Periodically, add some wood chips. I let this cook for about 4-6 hours, checking the temp, fire, and chips about every hour.
You can also do this with a propane grill, if that's what you have. The key is indirect heat, and smoke. They sell cast iron smoke boxes, that hold your chips. Fill it with wood chips and put it right down on the diffusers. Light the back and front burners, and keep the brisket in the center. Maintain the temp at about 275.
When it's done, take it inside, and slice it thinly across the grain.

Brisket cooked either of these ways can be served with your favorite bbq sauce, or simply as-is. The flavor is incredible. So before the weather cools down too much, carve out a weekend that isn't too packed with errands, and treat yourself to some slow food. And if you can do it, -- make the effort to find local beef. You'll be surprised at the difference.

Shrimp and Grits

One of the benefits of my job, is that I get to travel now and then. A couple years ago, I was at a conference in Florida. On the flight home, whoever had my seat on the previous flight, left the food section of the Atlanta Sunday paper in the seat pocket in front of me. (Thank you, whoever you were) They had an entire section on Shrimp and Grits. I had never heard of this combination before, but I love grits, and I love shrimp, so I read through the entire article, along with the 3-4 different recipes for it. The article mentioned that it was a dish originating from Charleston, S.C.
When I got home, I tried a very simple version of this dish, by sauteing some shrimp, and dumping them on top a bowl of grits. Somewhat anticlimatic.
Fast forward to a few months ago, -- I had a conference in Charleston, S.C. Let me tell you, Charleston is a foodie's Mecca! So I found a place that served Shrimp and Grits, and it was Amazing-good! I ate like I was at a trough! So when I got home, I attempted to put together what I'd had in Charleston, and at the risk of sounding prideful, I nailed it! This recipe will produce a version of the famed Shrimp-n-Grits that will satisfy a Charleston native, I promise you.
The key is in the shrimp stock. I'm somewhat fortunate in that most of the grocery stores in my area sell small tubs of steamed shrimp which I take home and snack on while watching TV. I always put the shells in a bowl, and on my way to bed, put them in a ziploc bag in the freezer. Whenever I need some shrimp stock, I pull a handful of shells and tails in some water, and boil it for about 5 minutes. At the end of that, -- I strain the stock and toss the shells. The resulting stock is already well seasoned, from the shrimp shells the grocery store steamed for me. If you're using shells and tails from raw shrimp, just toss some Old Bay in with them. The stock is used in the gravy, and as the liquid for the grits. So without a good shrimp stock, this recipe will be chancy at best. BUT, -- with a good stock, you can't miss. And the best part is, you get to enjoy the shrimp twice! First as a snack, then as the stock for this dish. Now, sans further adieu, -- my version of Shrimp and Grits.


Shrimp and Grits
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1 lb. shrimp (51-60)
1 smoked boneless ham slice
2 links Spanish chorizo (or Andouille)
3-4 scallions, green part sliced thinly
1 Roma tomato (diced)
6-6.5 cups shrimp stock (divided)
1 cup grits
3 Tbsp butter
3 Tbsp flour
1 Tbsp cream
Salt & pepper to taste

Cut the chorizo links in half lengthwise, then crosswise into half moon slices
Dice the ham in about 1/2 inch cubes.
Peel and get the tails off the shrimp.
Slice the scallions, set aside
Dice the tomato, set aside
Put a saute pan on the front burner, med - med high heat. Put a sauce pan on the back burner, very low heat, covered.
Saute the chorizo slices, ham, and shrimp then transfer to the sauce pan. (the sausage will make it's own juice)
Melt the butter in the sauce pan, then whisk in the flour to make a roux. You'll want a very light roux.
A ladle at a time, ladle in some of the shrimp stock, until what you have is a nice gravy-like consistency. You may want to add another pat of butter, or some cream, (I added both).
When the gravy looks good, add salt and pepper to taste. (At this point, the gravy might resemble chipped beef gravy, without the chipped beef.)
Pour it into the sauce pan and stir everything together.
Now cover the sauce pan and let it keep simmering, stirring now and then. While the different meats have been in there getting acquainted, they've continued to release some of their juices, which will blend now with the gravy and make the whole concoction absolutely delightful.
Now you should have about 4 cups of shrimp stock left. If not, add water until it comes up to 4 cups, and bring it to a boil.
Whisk in your grits, let them boil a bit, then back them down to a simmer. Once they're at the right consistency, you're ready to plate everything.
Put a nice bed of grits down on the plate.
Top this with a ladleful of your shrimp-ham-chorizo gravy.
Now sprinkle some sliced scallions on top of that, and finish with a sprinkling of diced tomatoes, and some parsley if you have it.
You could put this down on any table in Charleston, and it would pass muster.

Fried Oysters

When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things. -- The apostle Paul in the first letter to the Corinthians, 13:11.

Of course, Paul was talking about far more weighty matters. (Although, around the Chesapeake, folks tend to defend their feelings about oysters with near Gospel-like fervor.) Specifically, Paul was reminding the believers in Corinth that we currently have a partial view of everything, but a day is coming when we'll see things in a more complete way, thereby having a much clearer picture of things.

This passage from the New Testament reminds me that I ought to expect children to be children. And had I been a more attentive child myself, when the time came, I would have been much more cautious about how I introduced my own children to the crown jewel of Chesapeake seafood, -- the oyster. Nonetheless, one day years ago, in my small kitchen in an apartment outside of San Diego, I managed to score a half-dozen raw oysters, which I stood over the sink and shucked, slurping each off it's own built-in serving spoon. My youngest daughter begged me to try one, so I let her. (mistake) She promptly spit it into the garbage, which irritated me, because they were quite hard to come by.
My own father never let me have oysters at that age, and certainly not raw on the half-shell. When he finally decided I was old enough to try them, (about 13 - 14) he introduced me to the fried oyster sandwich. Two large, fried oysters, on two slices of pasty white bread with catsup. I was instantly in love with this fantastic food. Crunchy, delicate briny flavor, the sweetness of the catsup, all playing together in a maritime symphony. It was absolutely heavenly. I started ordering fried oysters whenever they were available. From there I graduated to oyster stew, oyster casseroles, and eventually, -- raw oysters on the half shell.
So, -- feeling somewhat repentant at the way I introduced my daughter to this incredibly delightful food, and concerned that I had turned her forever against our regionally revered bi-valve, I sought to redeem myself this weekend. I picked up a pint of shucked oysters from my local fish market, and fried the lot of them. Oysters are sold (around here) in two sizes; Selects (large) and Standards (smaller). For frying, I always use the selects. They're a dollar more a pint. I told my daughter how I had an oyster sandwich, and she decided to make her own. Very similar, only instead of white bread, she used a hot dog roll, and she added mayonnaise in addition to catsup. (she is, after all, from California, where the state condiment is Mayo.) And she actually liked it! So I'm hopeful that she'll progress to the point that she'll actually enjoy, even crave this wonderful creature as she continues to grow, and eventually put away childish things. (but not all childish things)
So, here is the recipe, very simple -- that set me on the road to redemption.

Fried Oysters
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1 Pt. Select oysters, drained
1 sleeve saltine crackers
1/4 cup corn meal
2 eggs
2 Tbsp. water

Mix the eggs & water in a bowl, and set aside.
Crush the crackers, and mix the cracker crumbs with the corn meal in a food processor until you have fine cracker crumbs.
One by one, dip an oyster into the egg wash, then cover with the cracker / corn meal mixture, then put into hot oil.
Fry until golden brown, then drain them on some paper towels.

It depends on the size of your pan, but I was frying 4 at a time. Probably could have done 6, but you don't want to crowd the pan. Give yourself some room. Hope you enjoy them.

Oyster Stew

Julie, over at Kitchenography, said something the other day that I'm sure most of us on the Eastern Seaboard have been thinking. She said "The making of soup is almost mandatory on snow days." This is part of the prelude to her amazing Carrot and Ginger soup with Lime Creme Fraiche. I must admit, I didn't even know that there was such a thing as Creme Fraiche before reading that recipe. Now I have to go out and find some. I got all the rest of the ingredients this morning.
Anyways, I had a hankerin' for soup as well, and since the kids wanted cheap-o sandwiches, I swung by the grocery and picked up a pint of select oysters. There are precious few "comfort" foods that are more comforting to me than oyster stew. The biggest gripe I have with either store-bought or restaurant oyster stew is that they seem to use so few oysters. This is a very simple, but very focused soup. The oysters are the only substantive ingredient, so don't skimp on them.
It seems a little weird telling someone how to make oyster stew, because around here, it's kind of like telling someone how to make toast. I think everyone in this part of the country knows how to make it. But I'm listing it anyway. It's one of my favorites.

1 pt. select oysters (with the liquor)
1 cup milk
4 Tbsps margarine

First, you'll want to pour off some of the liquor, and save it.
Bring the milk and margarine to a low boil, just until the margarine's melted. Then turn it down to a simmer.
Add about 2 good pinches of salt, (I use kosher salt, but use what you have) and a few turns of fresh ground pepper to taste.
Now add your oysters. Stir all this gently, and taste the broth. If it's real milky, add some of the liquor, a little at a time, until it's got a good oystery flavor. You'll want to simmer this until the edges of the oysters begin to curl.

That's all there is to it! Put it in a bowl, sit in front of the window, and enjoy a good hot bowl of oyster stew while you're watching the weather do it's thing. You really can enjoy winter around here.

Crab Pretzel

When we first moved back here, somebody told my wife about crab pretzels. I hadn't heard of any such thing, but there are a lot of things I haven't heard of. So we went to an Italian place nearby, called "The Olive Tree". It's quite popular locally, for good reason.

One thing about living on the Chesapeake -- every eating establishment makes the "Best crabcakes in Maryland". It doesn't have to be a seafood place. I've seen the signs at bars, family restaurants, truck stops, Italian restaurants, Greek restaurants, you name it. Well, the Olive Tree is no exception.

But a friend of my LCB told her that their crab pretzels were "to die for". (I always hated that phrase). So we went, and she tried it, and of course, she loved it. It's a soft pretzel, smothered in a very rich cheese sauce, with lump crab meat all over it. I enjoy picking the crab meat out of it, but the whole thing is way too rich for me.

Anyway -- I have a recipe for a hot crab fondue, and after trying this crab pretzel, I thought, -- That's not so different from the crab dip I make. If I used a heavy cream in lieu of the wine, it would be just like this.

My recipe for crab dip comes from Recipe Source, and instead of the cayenne, I use Old Bay. So here's how we make the crab pretzel:

Use your favorite soft pretzel, and fix it according to the directions, then put it in a pie pan.

8 oz. cream cheese
1 jar cheddar cheese spread. (like Olde English)
1/4 cup heavy cream
1/2 lb. good crab meat. (none of that artificial stuff here)
1/2 tsp Worcestershire sauce.
1/4 tsp garlic salt
1/2 tsp Old Bay seasoning.

Set up a double boiler, and melt the cheeses together. Once they melt together, and are nice and smooth, add the cream while stirring. This will thin it out just a bit. Now you can add everything else. Once it's all heated up, pour enough of it over the pretzel to cover it, letting it drip into all the spaces. Now if you like, you can sprinkle some shredded cheddar, or grated parmesan over it, and pop it into the oven at about 400 until the cheese melts. If you're not adding any more cheese, just put it in there for a few minutes to let everything heat up together. When it comes out, just use a spatula to slide it onto a plate, and get all the sauce on there.

This is a really easy dish, and folks will love it.

Gi-Gi's Oysters

Hi everyone. Thought I'd start this off with one of my favorites. When I was a kid, our maternal grandmother was called Gi-Gi. Her name was Georgia, and that's what our grandfather called her, but my older sister couldn't say it that way, and it came out gi-gi. So it stuck.
They lived right behind us in a gorgeous fieldstone house, and every Thanksgiving and Christmas we'd go over for dinner. It was quite the event. Gi-Gi would roast a terrific turkey, complete with all the sides. My favorite side dish was the oysters.
Being from Maryland, I grew up to love oysters. We had blue crabs in the summer, and oysters in the winter. I'd have fried oysters, scalloped oysters, oyster stew, and sometimes you could buy some oysters from a guy selling them out of the back of a pick-up, and take them home, shuck them over the sink, and slurp them off the shell. Winter in Maryland has some horrid weather, but it's pretty much off-set by the fact that you can get fresh oysters in any month that has an 'r' in it.
Anyways, back to Gi-Gi's. Sometimes I'd try to forego the turkey and just fill up on oysters. They were that good. Gi-Gi never looked at a recipe the entire time I knew her. (that I know of) And she surely didn't write anything down. So I asked my sister one time if she knew how to make some of Gi-Gi's dishes. Of course she didn't. Gi-Gi didn't like much help in the kitchen. So we were left to try to figure it out on our own. It took me a while, but this past Christmas I finally figured it out. It's incredibly simple, and I thought I'd use it for my first contribution to this site, as it's a quintessential Chesapeake dish.
For this dish, you'll want to get good oysters. What I mean is, don't try it with those cans of smoked oysters, or other canned oysters that they sell next to the anchovies and sardines. Hoof it over to the fish counter, and look for pint jars of oysters, probably on ice. These oysters are in a briny, viscous liquid, which is called the "liquor". I don't know where it comes from or why it's there. I don't really care. (there are some things it's best not to know) But you're going to need that, so don't get rid of it. When you get ready to put it all together, pour the oysters into a strainer or collander, and collect that liquor in a bowl or measuring cup under the strainer. The directions I'm going to give you will make enough of Gi-Gi's oysters to fill an 8x8 or 9x9 casserole dish. If you have a 9 x 13 dish, you'll probably want to double up. OK, here it is:

1 - 2 pints of good oysters (enough to cover the bottom of your casserole dish)
2 cups of milk
2 sticks of margarine
Saltine crackers.

Preheat your oven to about 350.
Drain the oysters in a collander, and reserve the liquor. Then put the oysters in the casserole dish. In a saucepan, heat up the milk and margarine until the margarine is melted. Once the margarine has melted, pour in some of the liquor, but not too much. Probably about 1/4 cup. You'll want to taste it as you're adding it. It should have a definite oystery taste, but not overpowering. (I made that mistake). Add some salt and pepper to taste. Once this broth suits you, pour it over the oysters, until they're just covered. You'll probably have some left over. Now, take out a sleave of the Saltines, put about 4-5 in each hand, and crush them over the oysters. Do that until the crushed crackers cover the oysters about 1/4 inch thick. The cracker bits should be about dime-sized, not crumbs. Now put them in the oven for about 5-10 minutes. All you want to do here is heat up the oysters. If you cook them too long, they'll shrivel up to itty-bitty things like you see in those cans. (I made that mistake, too) The crackers on the bottom will have soaked up some of the broth, and taste kind of like oystery dumplings. The crackers on top will be crisp, and the oysters -- oh man, the oysters will be like a taste of heaven itself.

Eventually, I'll post some pictures of this. Eventually, I hope this will be a proper food blog. But for now, I just wanted to get things going, and this was always one of my faves. I was so excited when I finally got it right, I had to phone my sister and tell her. You'd have thought I won the lottery.

So that's my first contribution from the Chesapeake, where we currently live. Next I'll post one of my favorites from the West Coast.