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
============
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.

Sauted Oysters with a sherry-bechamel sauce

There's a delightful Seafood shop not far from where I live called Richard's Fish and Crabs, and this time of year, they've got fresh local oysters @ 3 doz / $15. I can't pass that up. So every payday, I stop and get 3 dozen, then stop at the liquor store for a couple six-packs, then (when I have time) stop at the kitchen sink and shuck and eat about a dozen of them with a cold beer. I should mention that I've bought oysters, mussels, crabs, and fish from Richards, and I've always been not just pleased, but absolutely delighted with the quality of the food and the service. If you live in Harford County, MD and you haven't checked them out yet, really -- you ought to. Nothing in my book tops fresh oysters. Thing is, you have about a week to enjoy them. After that, you're taking chances. So I've been finding other ways to prepare them. Fried oysters, oyster frittatas, oyster fritters, oysters on the half shell, oyster pies, stewed oysters, etc...
Last night, I hit upon a dish that was really good, and thought I'd post it here. This week, Richards had really big Maryland oysters. So after I had dinner on for everyone else, I took a few minutes and decided to put these together for myself. (the rest of my family were born and raised in California, -- they don't have the same appreciation for the heavenly bi-valve that I have) It's pretty simple, only takes about 15 minutes once you have the oysters shucked. The thing you want to remember when cooking oysters, is that the oyster should be the star of the show. If you add so many ingredients that the oyster taste is covered up, then why bother? I used 6-8 of these really large oysters, but if your oysters aren't that big, you might want to use 10-12 of them.

For the bechamel:

3 Tbsp flour
3 Tbsp butter or margarine
1 pt. milk or cream
1/2 cup grated parmesan cheese
1/3 - 1/2 cup shredded fontina cheese
1/4 cup sherry (more or less to taste)

Melt the butter in a cast iron skillet.
Whisk the flour in until it's absorbed all the melted butter.
Start adding the milk or cream, whisking frequently, until it starts to thicken, then keep adding it until you've got the whole pint in there.
Now add your cheese, and stir that in until it's all melted.
Now add the sherry, and keep tasting it until you like it.

For the oysters:
6-8 large oysters
3 Tbsp butter or margarine
about 1 tsp Old Bay seasoning

Shuck the oysters, and set them in a bowl. Drain any of the liquor from them.
Melt the butter in a skillet, then put the oysters in, and sprinkle the old bay on top. Saute them until the edges begin to curl. Once they're ready, remove them to a bowl or plate. (a bowl will keep them from sliding around so much). Spoon some of the sherry-bechamel sauce over them and enjoy.

I didn't try it last night, but I bet a few flakes of tarragon sprinkled over top would make a tasty garnish.

Machaca

Living in Southern California for so long, I grew accustomed to a long(ish) commute. And like other commuters, I was wont to grab a "bite" on the way to work, usually eating it in the truck. After about two weeks, the breakfast sandwiches from McWendy's King all start to taste the same. After two and a half weeks, they start to taste bad. I started to notice that a lot of the taco shops I passed were open early, so I started trying them out, and discovered the chorizo and egg burrito. I'm going to let you all in on this one, because you can actually find mexican chorizo (and spanish chorizo) around these parts. But you'll have to wait until I get a daughter to take some pics.
Like all good things, sometimes you just want something different, and every shop that offered chorizo and eggs also offered machaca and eggs. This was a real find. Machaca and eggs is not just delicious, it's absolutely fantastic. And machaca is incredibly versatile. I discovered it as a breakfast accompaniment to eggs, but you can actually use it in a variety of mexican dishes that call for beef. As I mentioned, I don't have any trouble finding chorizo around these parts anymore, but machaca is another matter. I can't find it anywhere. And as I do when I can't find something I want, I start to see if I can find a recipe for it.
This particular day, Providence was kind to me, and landed my browser on a site called Texas Cooking Online. There is an article there called "How to Make Beef Machaca" by chef David Bulla. Chef Bulla says in his article: "In my opinion, machaca is so superior in flavor and texture to ground beef taco meat that it makes me wonder why anyone would use ground beef for tacos." -- after making and tasting his recipe, I wholeheartedly concur. I'm embarrassed to say that I never considered using it in anything but eggs before reading this, but I've since remedied that. Machaca is now my go-to meat for most of the mexican dishes I make. Enchiladas, Tamales, Tacos, Burritos, and sometimes I just take a fork and eat it from a bowl. Every time I've taken machaca to work for breakfast or lunch, it draws curious colleagues from as far as 3 cubes away. I've lost count of how many times I've emailed the link to the recipe to folks. If you're a big fan of southwestern cuisine, this is one ingredient you'll want to keep on hand.
I spoke with the delightful gal who runs the site Texas Cooking Online, and asked if I could post the recipe, giving them credit for it and providing a link back to their site, and she was most gracious to give me permission to do that. So here is David Bulla's recipe for Beef Machaca. I would encourage you to check out his article, because he also gives you some recipes for how you might use it in enchiladas and quesadillas, as well as a great recipe for enchilada sauce. I'm giving you his recipe, the only alterations I made when I prepared this were insignificant. I used 2 serrano chiles in lieu of 1 jalapeno. (It's what I had on hand). And instead of 1/2 a bell pepper, I used 2-3 roasted, skinned Anaheim chiles. (Again, it's what I had on hand, plus I love anaheim chiles.) So, sans further adieu, here it is, -- enjoy.

This is a basic machaca recipe. You can add to it or take away from it. Spice it up a little by adding chili powder or chili paste. Finish with some diced potatoes for Machaca con papas. You could also make a version of this recipe with leftover roasts or fajitas. Skip the marinade step and the searing step. Simply simmer the meat with the other ingredients until it is falling apart then shred it. Marinade: ¼ cup Worcestershire sauce Juice of two limes 1 tsp garlic powder 1 tsp ground cumin 1 tsp chili powder ½ tsp salt ½ tsp black pepper ½ cup vegetable oil or olive oil Machaca: 2-3 lb Chuck Roast or Skirt Steak, trimmed and cut into lb portions. 1 Large Texas Sweet Onion (yellow onion) diced ½ green bell pepper diced 4 cloves of garlic, minced or pressed 1 Fresh Jalapeno Pepper, minced 1 14oz can diced tomatoes or tomatoes with green chilies ¼ cup beef broth 1 Tb dried oregano 1 Tb ground cumin 1 teaspoon hot pepper sauce such as Tabasco salt and pepper to taste Vegetable oil for searing the beef For the marinade, combine all the ingredients in a bowl then whisk them to form an emulsion. Add the beef making sure every piece is evenly coated. Cover and refrigerate. Marinate the beef overnight in a bowl in the refrigerator. Before preparing, drain thoroughly and allow meat to come up to room temperature for about 30 minutes. In a large soup pot, heat a few tablespoons of oil over medium-high heat until very hot. Sear the beef a few pieces at a time to develop a rich brown color on all sides as well as on the bottom of the pan. Do this in several batches if the pot is too crowded. When all the beef is browned nicely and removed from the pan, add the onions, peppers, and garlic to the hot pan. Saut for a few minutes then add the remaining ingredients to the pan along with the beef. Bring to a boil, scraping the browned bits off the bottom of the pan. Reduce heat to low, cover and simmer slowly for about 2 hours. The meat should be very tender and should easily fall apart when pricked with a fork. Remove from heat, remove meat to a cutting board and shred with a pair of forks. Return to the pot and bring to a simmer, uncovered. Reduce the liquid until very thick, almost dry. At this point, adjust the seasoning with salt, pepper, and whatever additional heat you want to add if any. Serve with tortillas, cheese, salsa, lettuce and guacamole for a great beef taco. Portion and freeze the remaining machaca in zip lock bags for later use.

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
==========

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.

Black-eyed peas

Greetings all. Here it is Jan. 01, I'm not calling this a "resolution", per se, but I've been meaning to bet more active on this blog. So, camera or no camera, I can still write, which was my primary purpose to begin with.
In our family, it's been a tradition for years to begin each new year with black-eyed peas. I've heard that eating black eyed peas on New Year's day brings good luck. I have to confess, I love 'em. I look forward to it every new years. I used to take a bowl to our pastor, but since we've moved, I pretty much enjoy them on my own. Every year, it varies slightly, depending on what I have on hand, but the basics stay pretty much the same. Here's how I made them this year, (which happened to be the best batch to date.)

1 lb. dried black eyed peas
1 ham bone (or 2 hocks)
2 roasted poblano chiles, seeded & diced.
1 onion, diced.
1 can tomato sauce
worcestershire sauce (couple-three turns of the pot)
couple shakes of pepper sauce
salt & pepper to taste

First, you want to soak the black eyed peas overnight. Sort the peas and pick out anything that doesn't look good. Then cover them with about 3-4 times more water than peas. In the morning, drain and rinse them. Now, the ham. If you're using hocks, put them in the empty pot. I use a 4 qt. enameled cast iron pot. If you're using a ham bone, you might have to see if there's room for both the bone and the peas! If you don't have room, cut off as much ham as you can, chop it into bite-sized chunks, and put that in the pot. Wrap the bone and save it in the freezer for split pea soup. If you do have enough room for all of it, so much the better.
Now the peas have drained, put them in on top of the ham. Add onions, chiles, tomato sauce, worcestershire, pepper sauce, and salt & pepper. Stir all that up, and turn up the heat to bring everything to a boil. Let it boil, for about 5-10 minutes, then turn it down to a simmer, and cover.
After about 2 hours, if you used either hocks, or the ham bone, take them out and put on a cutting board. When they're cool enough to handle, cut off any meat, and return it to the pot.
Continue to simmer until the peas are tender. The way I make mine, they're just a step above mushy. Yesterday, I had them on the stove for several hours, probably 4-5 hours, so don't get impatient. They just take time, like most good things.
I don't know if they've ever brought me luck, but they always taste good, and for me, that's better than luck.

Happy New Year, all.

Chicken & Dumplings

It was cold and windy this morning. Well, not really cold, more like chilly. But it was windy. And since it was the first really chilly morning we've had this autumn, I decided to push the issue, and declared it a soup day. Initially I had set my sights on a hearty gumbo, with shrimp, andouille, chicken, and maybe catfish. When I got to the grocery store though, they didn't have very good shrimp, or catfish, but they had 10 lbs. of chicken leg quarters for $5.00. So Gumbo gave way to chicken and dumplings. I usually toss in a couple slices of lemon, but again, the only lemons I could find were in 2 lb. bags, and I didn't need that many. It's not that I couldn't find uses for them, I just couldn't find uses for them before they turn bad. But I had a couple limes at home and figured they'd substitute nicely. (which they really did, I may start using limes by default on this one)
I'm sure there are a million ways to make chicken and dumplings, but this is the way I do it, which really works well on a cold day. This recipe is adapted from Southern Living's "Cooking across the South".

5 lbs. of chicken. (dark meat works best)
1/2 an onion, sliced
1 stalk of celery, with leaves if possible, chopped.
2 slices of lime (or lemon)
2 bay leaves
6-7 whole peppercorns

Arrange a layer of the chicken pieces in the bottom of a pot. Add about half the onions, celery, a slice of lime, a bay leaf, and some of the peppercorns. Another layer of the chicken, and the rest of the aromatics, and seasonings. Cover all that with water, and bring it to a boil for 10-15 minutes. Let that cool. I usually take the chicken out with tongs, and put it in a collander. Then run cold water over it. When it's cool enough to handle, you want to get the skin off, and de-bone the chicken, returning the meat to the stock. Once you have all the meat back, let it simmer, covered, for about 2 hours. Meanwhile, you can make your dumplings. After 2 hours, add the dumplings, and let simmer, covered, for another 30 minutes.

For the dumplings I use:

2 cups flour
2 tsp baking powder
1 tsp salt
1/3 cup shortening
1/2 cup milk with 1 egg mixed in

Mix your dry ingredients, cut in the shortening, and add the milk and egg mixture a little at a time until you have a fairly firm dough. Roll it out to about 1/4" think, then cut your dumplings. I usually use a pizza cutter and cut 1" strips, then cut on a diagonal to get diamond shaped dumplings.

Simple Pleasures

It's November. I never got those garden pics posted, and my digital camera is on the fritz. My chiles did well though. I've several baggies of roasted, peeled anaheims and poblanos, some of which have been selected to go into tonight's advance batch of machaca. The act of picking, roasting, sweating, and peeling chiles is one that I find very relaxing. I also grew some serrano chiles this year, as I did last year. One batch I pickled as escabeche, and the next batch I dried over hickory smoke. Funny thing about chiles, the same botanical pod will go by any number of names depending on what's been done to it. For example, jalapenos, smoked and dried, are chipotles. A poblano chile, when dried, is called an ancho chile. I don't know what you call a smoked serrano chile, so I'm calling it chipotle. I do know that they're very tasty, and add a fantastic dimension of flavor to a lot of dishes, and I'm a little bit proud to have grown and made my own.

My best friend was down this past weekend for a visit. It was good to see him. It's always good to spend time with him. I busied myself Friday morning with sundry errands, and on the way home stopped by the local fish market, and got a pint of shucked oysters, and a dozen blue point oysters. They had Chincoteague, Choptank, Prince Edwards, and Blue Points. The locals here can be particular about their oysters. Seriously. And I'll admit, I've never had an oyster that can compare to an east coast oyster. The blue points I bought came from Long Island, so they're not exactly local, but they're close enough that the trip didn't bother them much. I love it when the fish monger taps the shells, I leave much more confident that all 12 will be good. Next to the fish shack, there's a liquor store. I stopped in and got a 6 pack of Belgian white beer.

That evening, Joe and I stood over the kitchen sink, shucking and slurping some of the most delicious oysters I've had in a while, and washing them back with some delicious white beer. Here's the beauty of these oysters, -- they don't require anything. No sauce, no condiments, nothing but the oyster -- heck, it even comes in it's own dish! It's the essence of simplicity. Good friends, excellent food, no fuss. Friday was good.