nose to tail

cosmos in my garden“Oh! There’s my ear!” proclaimed a diner at the Fair Hill Inn last Friday. I glanced over my shoulder to see her fork with speared, fried pig ear disappear into her mouth. Her dinner companions rushed to fork in their own pieces, plate noise somewhat subduing the crunch emanating from the first eater’s jaw. I quickly followed suit.

Who amongst us could concoct a meal using an entire lamb or pig, nose to tail? Many could, very few do. Not only do the rarest types attempt this at home, restaurant menus consisting of liver, kidney and heart dishes in addition to roasts and ribs flit in and out of culinary history incognito. Relished by their creators and some diners, such meals create ‘an experience’ for most eaters, something they can chew somewhat fearfully and live to tell the tale about around the office cubicles.

If you think you are more adventurous than my reductionist evaluation of the eating public, then you still don’t get it. Eating the whole animal is using (some would say ‘honoring’) the fella to its utmost, an act both practical and magical. There is adventure and creativity, but it’s also about eliminating waste and most importantly – satiating oneself in entirety. I’ve enjoyed a lamb and a pig prepared from nose to tail over the last couple of weeks, both cooked by Chefs Brian and Phil of the Fair Hill Inn. Lacking an office cubicle and co-workers for a proper drooling audience, you internet readers may feel free to imagine my facial gymnastics and pleased moans as you read the following highlights.

How did they prepare the heads? No apple in snout for piggie, nor split cranium of lamb was set upon our tables. Rather, for both evenings the chefs boiled the heads to obtain material for a terrine. Pressed and chilled, sliced into triangles and set upon frisee salad from their garden, accented by pickled green beans and the house-made mustard (a stone-ground, jazzed version of Dijon). The pig dinner terrine dish also bore the fried pig ear crunch, which clearly amused guests and lightened the dining room mood.

Both dinners contained sausage, grilled cuts of meat and braised ones as well. All were succulent and full of robust flavor despite the equally magnificently concocted sauces and sides also awaiting notice on the plates. I don’t know if the menus are planned to slowly but surely stimulate one’s sensorial awareness, but the last-served braised lamb (with a demi-glace) made me consider slaughtering our remaining lambs immediately. Likewise with the pork ribs; I was ready to buy a piglet and get to work.

Priced at $55 for each meal (which includes 5 courses and 5 different wines but does not include tax and gratuity), I found these unusual menus to be a financial steal. The portions may seem small, but you realize as the courses keep coming that these foods are truly satisfying and by the time you sign your bill, you wonder how you fit it all in. Check on the Inn’s web site for up-to-date info on such special offers. They are regularly open for dinner Wednesdays through Sundays, closed Monday and Tuesday.

The lamb was one of ours, and the pig came from Trebs Thompson of Whimisical Farm, just down the road in the other direction, who has been exceptionally kind to me with advice and visits. Using meat grown 2 miles away and their own vegetables, the two chefs are making it all as local as possible. Don’t know how to find food, animal or vegetable, nearby you? Look on LocalHarvest.org. You just might come home from your next errands trip with a half a cow! As for me, the ducklings grow exponentially and daily, plans are in the make for a December beak to tail extravaganza. Anybody hungry?

Recipe for anemia

hamburger and buckie - where's the beef?I lay astonishingly vanquished, a day after consuming my first meal treatment for anemia, enchanted with the pleasures of cooking under the direction of Escoffier. What better way to play the hand of a rainy day and anemic diagnosis? No sooner had the blood test results returned with potential blood transfusion numbers, than I began the hunt for ingredients and recipes. Such an ailment as anemia should be enjoyed, and I hereby respectfully submit the notion that not only should we choose sustainably produced meat, we should prepare it with our hearts set on pleasureful flavor. Pumping iron into my blood is not solely a quick cutting of greens from the garden, served alongside grilled venison from the chest freezer. Nor is it the option of slugging back supplements before, during and after my meals, pill-popping like a Tic-Tac addict.

Anemia has delightfully thrown me into another realm of gastronomy: my baby steps with haute cuisine. It’s like French Vogue for chefs, except you’ll find more affordable items on the ingredients list than those draped across the pages of such a fashion magazine. Outside drizzle obliterating leaf-raking from my chores list, I selected a five-pound tomb from the sagging cookbook shelves, spinning the pages like a globe trotter determining his next destination. My months-ago randomly purchased inspiration: two pounds of oxtail sitting clumped frozen and neglected at the chest freezer’s bottom depths. Luigi Carnacina and his “Great Italian Cooking” led the way to enlightenment with a selection of four recipes.

How to put this . . . cooking Carnacina (who learned from Escoffier), turned into a ‘make-your-own-adventure’ at ingredient number six: Brown Stock. Hereby instructed to refer to recipe No. 4 in his book, I flipped half the book over in search of this key element. Short about five different pices of meat, and anticipating an addition of five hours to my meal preparation, I took swift stock of my rainy day ambitions. So this is what it takes? No time like the present to solve another of life’s great mysteries. If he could do it, and has written it for me to follow, it must be some insanely tasty dish. Car keys and I launched into the chilly mist.

The grocery store pulsed with Halloween night sugar supplies. Shopper’s carts overflowed with colors and boxes unbeknownst to any honest food. I darted through the cleaning supplies aisle and rapped at the meat counter’s set of swinging doors. Then I popped my head in, just in time to see a three-inch diameter bone getting cut and wrapped. Finding an amiable white frock, I gave him my list and asked for some of the huge bones with marrow. Together we hunted down some shin meat (bone and meat, but not veal, as I wanted to watch cost), soup beef (shank, cubed), raw ham, pork rind, and spicy pork sausages. Discussing my beginning of the brown stock, before adding beef piecespreliminary goal of stock and secondary goal of an oxtail dish, he pronounced it sounded like a fine meal. I suppose an invitation should have been forthcoming from me. How odd that such an extension of shared culinary pleasure no longer naturally comes to one in these times?

We’d better start chopping while you are still reading. What follows produced an exquisite meal, forever changing my approach to cooking meat. Three cheers for little Buckie and Hamburger, currently eating their way through our pasture. May they one day encounter such a fine fate.

Start with a Brown Stock. You’ll need 1/2 pound cracked soup bones; 1 lb. veal shin (bone and meat, I used regular beef!); 1 lb. lean soup beef (shank or shin) in 2-inch cubes; 1 Tbs butter or rendered beef fat; 8 ounces lean raw ham, diced; 2 ounces pork rind, in one piece; 1 medium carrot, diced; 1 stalk celery with leaves, chopped; 1 clove; 1 bay leaf; 1 clove garlic; 4 sprigs parsley; 2 sprigs thyme; 1 tsp salt; 8 cups water.

soup beef cubed, bone with marrow, beef shin with bone, left to rightBrown the bones, veal shin, and beef cubes for 15 minutes in a 450 degree oven. Melt the butter in a large, heavy pot over medium heat and add the ham, pork rind, carrot, celery, and onion. Arrange the meat and bones on top, add 1/2 cup of the water, and cook until the water has evaporated. Remove the rind. Add remainder of water, salt, clove, bay leaf, garlic, parsley and thyme. Brind to a rapid boil, reduce heat and simmer 4 to 5 hours, skimming scum from top and replenishing water if needed. Remove from flame and strain immediately through hair sieve or cheesecloth-lined colander. Chill, and remove fat before using. Makes about 1. 5 quarts. For a meat glaze, reduce this even further until it becomes syrupy.

You’ll also need a quantity of kneaded butter, which is slightly softened butter mixed with an equal amount of flour. I used 4 Tbs butter, somewhat melted, and 4 Tbs flour, and just mushed them together in a small saucepan. Set this aside.

You’ll also need some enhanced tomato sauce. Heat 2 Tbs olive oil in a saucepan. Add 1/2 a chopped onion, 4 Tbs ham, chilled stock, with separated fat on topchopped, and brown them over fairly high heat for 5 to 6 minutes. Add 1 Tbs flour and mix well. Turn the heat down to medium and add 2 lbs fresh tomatoes (or 1 16 oz. can Italian-style plum tomatoes, drained). Season with 1 tsp salt, 1/4 tsp pepper, 1 tsp sugar, 1 sprig thyme and a bay leaf. Cook 45 minutes, stirring occassionally. You can strain it if you like.(Clearly this process is easier if you have some seasoned tomato sauce frozen or canned and awaiting selection from your pantry!)

Let’s get to that tail. For Oxtail Italiana, you’ll need: 4 lbs cut-up oxtail; 2 carrots, sliced; 2 onions, sliced; 1 stalk celery, sliced; 3 sprigs parsley; 2 sprigs thyme; 1 bay leaf; 3 cups Brown Stock; 3 cups dry white wine (I used 1 cup of Vermouth instead); salt and pepper; 3 Tbs butter; 1 clove garlic, crushed; 1/2 pound mushrooms, sliced; 4 Tbs kneaded butter; 1 cup Tomato sauce; 3 sweet Italian sausages, sauteed for about 15 minutes and sliced.

Whew! Make yourself a cocktail while you’re at it. This is a thing of beauty. Put the pieces of oxtail in a large, heavy pot with the sliced vegetables and the herbs. Add the stock and wine and sufficient water to barely cover the pieces of oxtail. Season lightly with salt and pepper, bring to a boil, cover the pot and simmer over very low heat for 3 to 4 hours, or until the oxtail meat is very tender and will separate easily from the bones. While the oxtail is simmering, melt the butter in a frying pan over medium heat, oxtail pieces and veggies, awaiting drenching in beautiful brown stockadd the garlic, cook for 1 minutes, add the mushrooms, and saute gently for about 8 minutes; remove from the heat and reserve. When the oxtail is fully cooked, remove the pieces from the pot. Strain the cooking liquid through a fine sieve, return it to the pot (should be about 4 cups; reduce over high heat to this quantity, if necessary), bring to a boil, blend in the kneaded butter with a whisk, add the tomato sauce, and simmer for 10 minutes. Correct the seasoning and then add the oxtail pieces, mushrooms, and sausage. Simmer for 5 minutes and then turn the contents of the pot out into a deep hot serving dish. Serves 6.

I served this with some gratineed celery, recipe No. 1659 in Carnacina’s book. We’ll save that for another time . . . but do note that this dish is best served with biscuits or bread to mop up the amazing sauce.

One-pot chicken, II

the hen considers the panFarmyard beauty woven into farmhouse decor has recently inspired me in artistic and culinary pursuits. A wandering yet mapquest-guided drive to Whimsical Farms led me into the inspirational world of Trebs. Noticing her collection of bird wings nestled amongst gorgeous antique china sets, I returned to my own laying ladies, my eye discerningly focused on plummage as object. As it turns out, several have not been laying for many months . . . despite diet alteration, heat cycles and general pampering.

Like the tightening of belts economy-wide, such a situation calls for culling (one of those farm words that has passed from frequent usage into feeling a bit cruel). Our kitchen walls host their own pop-art version of farmlife – feathers from an infamous fox kill of chickens earlier this year fan out from former picture holes left unplugged. Where will I put my own Araucana wing? Perhaps atop the framed lion painting, currently bedecked with a black snake skin tinsel. Many is the guest who actually enjoys this. Those who do not clearly do not come for lunch ever again, of their own accord.

In case you find an extra chicken on hand, as I plan to, give this one-pot recipe a go. Inspired by L.L. Bean’s Game and Fish Cookbook, as usual I have traded ingredients, lacking theirs. You’ll need: 3 sprigs each of fresh rosemary, savory and thyme (or 1 1/2 tsp dried, total of all 3); 1 chicken (moderate, not jumbo. Or duck!); sale and freshly ground black pepper; 4 Tbs butter; 2 small potatoes, chopped; 2 medium white onions, chopped; 3 Tbs sugar (I used Jaggery); 1/4 cup cognac (book suggested bourbon); 3/4 cup duck or chicken stock.

Rub the inside and outside of the bird with salt and pepper. In a flameproof casserole, just large enough to accommodate the chicken and veggies, melt the butter over medium heat. Add the chicken and brown on all sides (this is somewhat easier when the lovely stock, with rosemary savory and thyme as main flavor chicken is quartered). Add potatoes and onions and brown them, sprinkling the sugar over and turning until glazed. Pour the alcohol over the chicken and set it aflame, basting the bird (I used a match, go for the flame-via-burner flare if you have the skills).

Add the stock and puts the herbs over everything. Bring to a boil, then cover and place in a 325 degree oven for 20 minutes. Uncover, baste and raise the heat to 375 for another 10 minutes. Baste a couple times during this period. When done, remove the chicken and place on plates or serving platter. Scoop the veggies around it. Simmer down the pan juices until almost syrupy and pour over the bird.

Bon apetit!  Please note that the usage of adequate fresh herbs, and a homemade chicken stock really makes this dish exquisite. See further postings about making stock, having the patience to do so, and why it’s worth it.

splish splash

the 'duck pond'Just because I don’t feel like taking an outdoors bath in these dropping temperatures doesn’t mean my little ducklings don’t want their traditional water setting. Out came the pickax last week, and into the ground went a hole. Thinking aesthetically, I lined it with heavy duty plastic, and nestled rocks along the edges to hold it in place. As it turns out, these bouts of rock work and digging, while quick and pleasing in the short term, are not the most efficient way to meat the duckie’s needs.

Ducks are messy. Slappily swaying their way around the yard, they manage to bring a fair amount of dirt into the water as they dip in for drinking and primping. I made it rather shallow, so their still-small bodies could easily manage entrance and exit. However, a larger and deeper pond, such as a naturally occurring lake, would have created a dynamic of depth to allow the dirt to sink off of the surface, and away from their drinking area. So, back to the drawing board.

In the meantime, I’m pouring in a couple buckets of clean water a day, and rinsing the whole get-up every 4 to 5 days. Not as fast as rinsing out a tray, and certainly not geared up to remain unfrozen come the approaching harder frosts. Looks like I’ll be either buying a heat stand and water tray or swinging away like Paul Bunyan to make a deeper setup. plastic lined holerocks hold edges, awaiting filling by buckets of water

Politics of food series

arrugula and carrot, ready for November salad makingWhether you are beginning to rethink your choices regarding food, or would like a refresher on the finer points of what, why and where to eat, the Delaware New Castle County Library’s upcoming series will satisfy your tummy and mind. Check out these fast approaching events, ranging in topic from where to buy fresh local food, what the heck organic is really about, and talks about recent books and films that have popularized the foodie questions as well: (for more information visit www.nccde.org/libraries)

Nov. 2 – Buy Local from a Delaware Farmer: DE Dept. of Ag. rep will discuss benefits of buying locally, where to do so, and how to get more involved. 11 a.m. at Brandywine Hundred branch, 7 p.m. at Bear. Nov 3 at Woodlawn, 7 p.m.

Nov. 3 – What’s all the fuss about Whole Food Eating? – Cooperative Extension agent discusses the nutritional differences between food choices, whole foods, and more. 7 pm. at Kirkwood branch. Nov. 4 at Bear, 1 p.m.

Nov. 3 – Go Grow your Own! – Cooperative Extension agent talks about basics of starting your own garden, construction, composting, etc. Open dialogue time too. 3 p.m. at Hockessin Branch. Nov. 4 at Brandywine Hundred, 2 p.m.

Nov. 3 – Supersize me - film and discussion – Consumer health librarian leads watching and discussion of this documentary on fast food. Discussion involves nutrition resources at the library and in communities. At Brandywine Hundred branch, 7 p.m. Also Nov. 4 at Bear, 7 p.m.

Nov. 5 – The Omnivore’s Dilemma for Kids bood discussion – For ages 9 and up, meet with others to discuss what is in the food you eat, how to shop for heathier choices, and address budget concerns. 4 p.m. at Kirkwood branch. Nov. 10 at Woodlawn, 7 p.m., Nov. 13 at Brandywine Hundred, 3 p.m.

Nov. 6 – FOOD, Inc, film watching – a look inside America’s corporate food industry. Newark Free branch, 6:30 p.m.

Nov. 9 – Understanding the Natural, sustainable and Organic terms: a Consumer’s Perspective – President of the Delware Organic Food & Farming Association addresses questions on the above terms, when to ask for it, and if it’s what it’s cracked up to be. Newark Free branch, 7 p.m. Also Nov. 10 at Brandywine Hundred, 11 a.m., and Hockessin on Nov. 10, 2 p.m.

Nov. 9 – In Defense of Food: An Eater’s Manifesto - book discussion addressing national conversation about how we eat, and Michael Pollan’s prescription for that: Eat Food. Not too much. Mostly plants.” Woodlawn branch, 7 p.m. Also Newark Free on  Nov. 17, noon. Claymont on Nov. 18, 10 a.m. Bear on Nov. 18, 7 p.m. Brandywine Hundred on Nov. 18, 7 p.m.