Like hot dogs and Slim Jims, jerky is one of those “mystery meats” we love but don’t really know how it’s made or what part of the animal it comes from.
Really excellent beef jerky is a rare treat, and once you have it, you will never go back to that rancid, preservative-filled dog meat you find in a bag at the supermarket. And the best part is: it’s quite easy to make.
First, the meat: I like to shop around for a really good cut of London broil for my beef jerky. You can use cheaper cuts, but a nice, lean slab of London broil, sliced into 1/4″ pieces on a diagonal, against the grain, works really well. Remove all gristle and fat that may be on the meat before slicing.
Once you’ve done that, all you need to do is make the marinade, marinate the beef overnight, and then dry it the next day. It really is that easy.
Your final product will be a flavorful beef jerky that is so good, you’ll find it very hard to stop eating it…or to share it.
Marinated beef strips on the dehydrator.
Alz Beef Jerky
1 Tablespoon salt
1 1/2 Tablespoons granulated garlic
1 teaspoon black pepper
1 teaspoon fresh minced peeled ginger
2/3 cup brown sugar
1 cup Teriyaki sauce
1 cup soy sauce
8 lbs raw, lean beef, like London broil, cut into 1/4″ thick diagonal slices, against the grain of the meat
Mix all ingredients except meat in a large bowl. Place meat in a large Ziploc bag, pour marinade inside, seal, and refrigerate overnight. Squish the bag around once in a while, to make sure all meat surfaces make contact with the marinade. Keep the bag in a bowl to prevent any accidental spillage in your fridge!
The next day, pour off the marinade and discard. Using a food dehydrator or simply an oven at 140 degrees, dry the meat by laying strips on cookie sheets in a single layer. Drying could take several hours to half a day, depending on how dry and chewy you like your jerky.
Best you ever had!
Jerky stores really well in the freezer. I put small amounts into individual freezer bags, then place all of them in one large freezer bag. Thaw as needed.

SPICY SOY TUNA TACOS

Posted: October 23, 2012 in Food, spicy, taco, tuna
Tags: , , ,
Whenever I serve these tuna tacos to friends, I always get requests for the recipe. It requires a bit of setting up, but you can put it together right before serving to your guests…or yourself.

I prefer to use sushi grade tuna for this dish, which is easily found in small frozen “bricks” at Whole Foods or similar stores.

SPICY SOY MARINATED TUNA ON TACO CHIPS

Marinade…
6 Tablespoons soy sauce
1 teaspoon pepper oil
Topping…
¼ cup sour cream
1 Tablespoon fresh squeezed lime juice
Chopped fresh scallions
Other Ingredients…
½ lb sushi grade raw tuna, chopped into ¼-inch cubes
Tortilla chips
Finely chopped scallions

 
Assemble…
Make the Topping in a bowl first, and place in the fridge. Mix marinade ingredients in a separate bowl. Chop tuna into ¼-inch cubes, and marinate in soy/oil mix for just 10 minutes, then drain. Keep cold!

Just before serving, take a tortilla chip, place 1 Tablespoon of tuna on top, top this with ½ teaspoon sour cream mixture, and garnish with chopped scallions.

Eat these quickly, before the tuna makes the tortilla soggy!

 

It seems silly to travel all the way to Paris for a jar of mustard, but that’s exactly what we do. OK…we happen to be in Paris when we make the pilgrimage to the Maille mustard shop, but I couldn’t imagine a trip to the city of light without making the stop.
Back in 1747, Antoine Maille was known by many as the greatest mustard and vinegar maker of all time. He created the now-famous Maille Dijon Originale mustard in Dijon, France, and opened a shop in Paris to sell it. To this day, the company follows his strict guidelines to re-create that magic. The Maille company opened a second store, in Dijon, in 1845.

The supermarket stuff.

There are several varieties of Maille mustard available in most supermarkets here in the United States, but the one mustard you can’t get…is the one you really want!
When you visit the Maille Paris shop on place de la Madeleine, you’re surrounded by beautiful displays of colorful jars of mustard. But you need to focus on the mustard taps–yes, like beer taps–at the main counter, a long oak bar where fresh mustard (no preservatives, never more than 10 days old) is dispensed into ceramic jars that are filled, corked, and wrapped in tissue paper.
Our mustard of choice is the Mailles Chablis mustard, which is unlike anything I’ve ever been able to find here in the States. And though it is potent, it has a magical quality that I can’t even begin to describe.

How do I get one of these taps in my home?

While you’re standing in line for your mustard–and there is always a line–you can sample the three fresh mustards offered with a pretzel or a cracker. Aside from the Chablis mustard, there is also a grape juice and honey mustard, and a white wine mustard.
Despite the fact that they say the potency of the fresh Maille mustard doesn’t last more than a few months, it doesn’t stop my wife and me from buying enough to keep us happy until the next trip to Paris a few years later. The way I look at it, the less potent Chablis mustard is still better than anything I can find on a store shelf here at home.
It is a sad day indeed when I open the last jar of Maille mustard, look deep down inside, and see that there is nothing left…just a dry residue of crusty mustard. I put the jar down, and go directly to my computer to book the next possible trip to Paris!

Horseradish just doesn’t get the credit it deserves. A world without horseradish would mean boring Bloody Mary’s, cocktail sauces with no kick, and steaks and roast beef sandwiches just crying out for sauces and mayos with personality.

Horseradish is a perennial plant from the Brassicaceae family, which also includes mustard, wasabi, broccoli, and cabbage. It’s mainly grown for its white tapered root, which, when not disturbed, has little aroma. But when you cut or grate it, enzymes from the damaged plant cells release oils that give horseradish that wonderful pungent smell and flavor. It loses this pungency just as quickly, unless you store it in vinegar, which is why bottled or “prepared” horseradish is always found in a vinegar solution.

In the garden, horseradish can become invasive, meaning it will want to take over if you let it, but in my garden, it doesn’t get to do that because I regularly harvest a couple of roots for my kitchen.

 

Horseradish in the garden

Growing up in a Lithuanian family, there were very few spices ever used in cooking. Most of the food was pretty bland. Mom would salt food, but even black pepper was pretty rare. Peppers of any kind were never used–they never grew in Lithuania–so horseradish became the universal ingredient when a kick was needed. My grandfather loved it. I can still remember my grandfather crying his eyes out as he grated a freshly picked horseradish root from his garden. It was absolutely a labor of love. He would keep his grated horseradish in vinegar in the fridge, and then when dinner came around, it would quickly find its way to the table next to just about any meat my grandmother was cooking.

These days, with food processors in just about any kitchen, there’s no excuse not to use fresh horseradish. Your nasal passages and eyeballs are safe from being blown out.

Some of the basic applications for horseradish are still the best. The following recipes use prepared horseradish you easily find in the supermarket, but use fresh if you have it.

 

A freshly harvested horseradish root

For a simple horseradish mayo:

1/4 cup mayonnaise

2 Tablespoons prepared horseradish
Combine both ingredients in a bowl, cover with plastic, and refirgerate. Goes great on a roast beef sandwich.

 

For a fancier horseradish sauce that goes great on grilled salmon:

3/4 cup sour cream

1/4 cup mayonnaise

2 Tablespoons prepared horseradish

2 Tablespoons chopped fresh basil

1 Tablespoon fresh lemon juice

1 teaspoon soy sauce

Combine all ingredients in a bowl, cover with plastic, and place in fridge for a few hours for the flavors to blend.

 

 

Alz cocktail sauce

2 cups ketchup

4 Tablespoons prepared horseradish

1 Tablespoon fresh lemon juice

1 teaspoon Worcestershire sauce

½ teaspoon Tabasco

5 grinds of fresh black pepper

¼ teaspoon salt

1 teaspoon vodka

Combine all ingredients. Store in a tight plastic container in the freezer. Thanks to the vodka, my cocktail sauce never freezes solid, so just scoop out what you need and let it thaw.


ROASTING CHIOGGAS!

Posted: October 16, 2012 in beets, garden, Recipes
Tags: , ,

 

I love beets, but this variety I grow in my garden every year is special. They’re mild, they don’t bleed, the greens are delicious, and…look at ’em: they’re gorgeous! The variety is called Chiogga, and I highly recommend it in anyone’s veggie garden.

To roast, I simply wash the beets and cut them into smaller pieces. I place them on a sheet of aluminum foil, sprinkle with salt, pepper and a little EVOO, fold the foil over the beets to make a packet, and roast at 350 for about an hour or until they are fork-tender.

Gas grills make no sense to me at all. I find little or no difference between them and the gas stove I have in my home. I can make a perfectly acceptable steak by grilling it on my stovetop cast iron griddle…or I can sear it in a pan and pop it in a hot oven. If the real reason for grilling is flavor, why wouldn’t you want something that makes a real difference?


A charcoal grill is the way to go. Besides the quality and source of your beef, wood and smoke are what makes the difference between a good steak and a great steak.

I know the #1 argument for going with gas over charcoal is time. “It takes too long to start a charcoal grill.” That’s a load of crap. I’ve convinced many friends over the years by showing them that it takes no more time to light a charcoal fire than it does a gas grill.

Here’s what you need: Get yourself the charcoal grill you like…the classic Weber is still an awesome choice.

Get a bag of hardwood charcoal. I’m not talking charcoal briquets, like Kingsford, that have a ton of additives in them. And definitely don’t ever use crap like Match Light. I’m talking pure hardwood charcoal, easily found in many stores.

Get a charcoal chimney. It’s a metal tube with a handle and a grate at the bottom. You crumble a couple of sheets of newspaper into the bottom, pour charcoal into the top, light it, and you have hot coals in 10 minutes without lighter fluid.

And DON’T EVER use lighter fluid! Why would you spend good money on a steak and then want to make it taste like gasoline?


The variety of wood chips available for smoking is another flavor factor when it comes to grilling with charcoal. My personal favorite is hickory, especially when I’m cooking pork or chicken. But apple, cherry, oak, mesquite: they all impart their own unique flavors. I have apple and cherry trees in my yard. So whenever they need a little pruning, I save those cut pieces of wood and use them to smoke with. And I love Jack Daniel’s smoking chips, made from the oak barrels that have had JD soaking in them. You can actually get high from sniffing the bag when you first open it!


You don’t need to buy a separate smoker. Simply soak some wood chips in water for about a 1/2 hour before grilling (I’ve found that hot water speeds the process up), drain the water, and then sprinkle the moist chips on the hot coals in your grill. Throw your meat on the grill, close the lid (opening the vents, of course) and off you go.

“I don’t cook with charcoal because it’s so messy!” So what are you…a girl? You probably have one of those fake plastic log gas fireplaces in your house, too.

Because I’m using a small amount of charcoal for the average dinner, I don’t have to clean out my charcoal grill every time I use it. After a while, yes, some ashes pile up in the bottom of my grill and I have to dump them. But because they’re pure wood ashes, I dump mine into my strawberry or raspberry patch. They love the stuff.

You still have to clean a gas grill after a while anyway, and it always runs out of propane halfway through cooking when you have guests over for dinner. So where’s the convenience in that?

Charcoal grills give you everything you could ask for: low maintenance…ease of use–no stupid propane tanks, valves and igniters…real wood flavor–not lava rocks, whatever the hell those things are…and the thrill of cooking meat over a real fire–bonding with the caveman in you, not some pussy with an umbrella drink and his shiny chrome gas grill with a thermometer that doesn’t work and burners that don’t cook evenly or get hot enough. And I cook throughout the winter with my charcoal grill.

Time to be a man again! Ditch the gas grill. Get the charcoal. And rediscover what a really good steak is supposed to taste like.

Sad to say, but despite the large Italian community we have here in Rhode Island, there is no truly excellent pizza to speak of. I suppose you could say “them’s fightin’ words!” but if it’s here, I haven’t found it yet.
So where is the excellent pizza? New York City, of course. OK…maybe I’m a bit prejudiced because I grew up there and worked in a variety of pizzerias in my younger days, but there is no doubt in my mind that if you want the best pizza (or bagel, for that matter), you have got to go to the Big Apple. Everything else is simply a bad copy.
It can be confusing in New York City as there are many different varieties of pizza to choose from, some much better than others. Brick oven pizzas abound, but there are pizza lovers who won’t settle for anything less than a pizza baked in a coal-fired oven. The extremely high heat of a coal-fired oven cooks the pizza in just a minute, and imparts a crusty, charred flavor you can’t get any other way. There are only about a dozen coal-fired pizzerias in Manhattan, and many of them have been around for over 100 years, so it’s definitely a matter of making a special trip to enjoy this style of pizza. (No new coal-fired pizzerias can be built in the city, due to more recent strict pollution control laws.)
There’s the traditional thin, round Neopolitan pie, and the thicker, square Sicilian pie. Regular mozzarella or mozzarella di bufala. Domestic or imported cheese?
Many choices, but always the same answer: it’s a matter of personal taste.
But when I heard through the pizza lovers’ grapevine that there was a “new” pizza out there, one that was gaining a cult following, I needed to know about it. And more importantly, I needed to taste it!
It’s called Pizza Montanara, and there are only a few pizzerias in New York City that serve it. The one I went to is called Pizzarte, on West 55th St, and I have to say that I have now discovered the ultimate pizza.
What makes Pizza Montanara so spectacular, quite simply, is that the dough is fried in oil before they put the sauce and cheese on it, and then it is baked in a wood burning oven. It is not greasy. In fact, the frying process, which lasts only a minute, puffs the dough up and creates a beautiful pillow-like softness that I have never experienced in a pizza before.
Pillowy goodness! Its rectangular shape is probably due to the fact that they fry it in a restaurant deep fryer.
The pizza was so good that once my wife and I ate the first pie, we ordered another. Then when it was time for us to drive home from New York, we stopped at Pizzarte and ordered two to go, which we devoured by the time we got to the Connecticut border!
The Montanara is a simple pizza margherita: dough, super-fresh tomato sauce, mozzarella di bufala, topped with a fresh basil leaf. But the frying process creates a magical treat that has got me drooling all over this blog as I write it.
It’s so good, that just a few days after returning from the city, I made my first attempt at creating a montanara pizza at home. My result: pretty successful! A little crunchier than Pizzarte’s montanara, but with a little tweaking, I may just get the hang of this thing!
A little rounder (I fried it in a pan) and I sprinkled oregano on top instead of the fresh basil leaf. But not a bad first attempt!
I’m going to back to Manhattan for Thanksgiving weekend, and pizza montanara is the first food on my list!

I love cocktails that are full of herbaceousness. (Got that right without spell check!)

So whenever my wife and are dining in a higher-end restaurant, where we see that mixology matters to them as much as the food, we take advantage of their knowledgeable bartenders and have them create something special for us to try.

Coppa is my second favorite restaurant in Boston–Toro being at the top of the list–and both are part of the Ken Oringer empire, with head chef Jamie Bissonette at the helm. Both also take pride in their cocktails, and this one from Coppa, named “Hey Neon,” is a personal favorite that I regularly re-create at home for myself.

The Coppa finished drink:

 

HEY NEON, BOTH WAYS
1.5 oz Aalborg aquavit

.75 oz Punt e Mes

.5 oz Cynar

.5 oz green Chartreuse

Finely minced, dehydrated kalamata olives

 

Combine the liquid ingredients in a cocktail shaker with some ice. Stir briskly and pour (straining the ice) into a rocks glass rimmed with the minced kalamata olives.

 

My version of the cocktail:

 

I tried mincing and dehydrating the kalamata olives, like they do at Coppa. But the oils in the olives kept them from drying out enough–maybe I was just too impatient for a drink! And I couldn’t get the minced olives to stick to the rim of my glass.
My solution was pretty simple: pour the drink into a martini glass and serve with a skewer of kalamatas. Works for me!

 

 

Fast food is a relative term. What we Americans think of as fast food is not what, say, the Italians think of as fast food. We think of drive-thru burger joints serving greasy, salty and fatty food. Swallow a burger, pop a Crestor. The Italians think fast food is something that simply doesn’t take all day to cook! If you can use the freshest of ingredients, and serve it in the time it takes to sip a half a bottle of wine while chatting with a friend, it’s fast food Italian-style.
Years ago, when my wife and I were visiting the island of Capri in Italy, one of the dishes we enjoyed was an incredibly simple pasta and tomato dish called spaghetti sciue-sciue (pronounced “shwee-shwee.”) We were told that sciue-sciue was loosely translated as “quick-quick,” although a check on the web said that it also translates to “improvisation” in Italian. And though quick it was (that is, by Italian standards), it was one of the most memorable dishes we had on our trip. It could be because of our surroundings: the famous Faraglioni rocks all around us at a small seaside restaurant called Da Luigi. We took the small shuttle boat from Marina Piccola, which made its way through those stacks jutting out of the Bay of Naples, and landed at this historic restaurant, built in 1936. People come here not only to dine, but to spend the day sunbathing and swimming.
So the reason Da Luigi’s sciue-sciue was so amazing certainly was, in part, the location…but it was also very much due to the use of the freshest and best possible ingredients…and they didn’t mess around with them too much.
With the growing season coming to a close here in New England, there’s still a chance to get some beautiful ripe tomatoes at local farmstands for this recipe. This version of spaghetti sciue-sciue, our own home-made twist on what we had in Italy, absolutely takes advantage of what’s left of the season!

The ingredients. Yes, so I used lo-carb pasta!

OUR PASTA SCIUE-SCIUE
Ingredients:
1 small can (6 oz) tomato paste
½ cup extra virgin olive oil
2 hot Italian dried peppers, finely chopped
¼ cup white wine
8 to 10 chopped plum or cherry tomatoes (as ripe as possible)
12 to 15 torn fresh basil leaves
½ stick (4 oz) unsalted butter
1 ball of fresh mozzarella
1 lb of spaghetti, or better yet, bucatini
Sea salt
Fleur de Sel (optional)
Heat a large pot of salted water to boil the pasta in.
Almost burn—as in “heavily caramelize”—the tomato paste in a large pan with the olive oil, salt, and the dried peppers. Add the white wine to de-glaze, and simmer until reduced by half.
Add the chopped tomatoes and simmer on medium heat until they start to break apart. Hand tear the mozzarella ball into shreds and add to the sauce, stirring gently. Add the basil.
Add the butter, gently stirring until it melts.
When the pasta is slightly firmer than al dente, drain it and add it to the pan with the sauce.
Serve immediately, finishing with a little Fleur de Sel.

Finito!

In a world where buzz words like “probiotics” rule every food product marketing campaign, comes word that good ol’ sauerkraut is actually really good for your health! Who knew? Apparently, some have for many years. 

Lactic acid and beneficial bacteria…those are the two main ingredients that make sauerkraut so good for you. Lactic acid fermented foods such as sauerkraut have made up a significant portion of food eaten by humans for a long time and still do in many developing countries. Lactic acid fermentation is one of the simplest and safest ways of preserving food. 

Archaeological digs have found that mankind has used this technique for thousands of years. (Korean kimchi is a perfect example.) Our forefathers must have consumed large numbers of live lactic acid bacteria in their daily diets. So it seems logical to think that the human gastrointestinal tract has evolved over the years to adapt to a regular supply of live lactic acid bacteria. But this supply slowed down or even stopped in industrialized countries during the 20th century, which may have led to the enormous increase in gastrointestinal and immunological problems that plague us today. 

Here are just a few of the benefits of eating sauerkraut: it provides vitamin C…it reduces bloating and pain to those stricken with irritable bowel syndrome…it significantly helps aid in the digestion of starches and proteins found in soy and grains…and lots, lots more. 

Sauerkraut has been used for hundreds of years to help cure upset stomachs and to increase beneficial flora in the intestinal tract.
It’s amazing how we’ve forgotten about so many things that kept us healthy naturally. Our crazy lifestyles deplete all the beneficial building blocks our bodies need, and then we think we need to take pills and supplements to get them back. All we really need is to eat the right foods again. 

So next time you grab a hotdog, ask for extra sauerkraut! Maybe the dog isn’t the best thing for you, but you can certainly justify the kraut! 

I love the taste of sauerkraut as is. But here’s a recipe that takes it to a whole new level. I make gallon-sized batches of the stuff when I have a cookout in the yard, but this recipe has been reduced to a quarter of that for normal home use. 

1 package (32 oz) sauerkraut
1/4 lb bacon, chopped
1 large sweet onion, finely chopped
salt and sugar to tasteOpen the package of sauerkraut and drain it in a colander. wash the sauerkraut with water to remove the brine. Let drain again.

In a large sauce pan, fry the chopped bacon until just crispy. Don’t drain the fat! Add the onions and cook until they are translucent. Then add the sauerkraut and cook over medium heat until the sauerkraut has caramelized. This could take up to 30 minutes. Stir often.
If you see the sauerkraut sticking to the pot, add a little olive oil.

At the end, add a little salt and a touch of sugar, to taste.