The written recipe is in the Salad Bar tab above.

This video was actually longer and I had to cut it quite a bit owing to a 10 minute limit on YouTube.  That’s a good thing!

]]> http://ducksmahal.com/2010/07/16/german-potato-salad/feed/ 26 Audubon Ron http://ducksmahal.com/2010/07/07/lament/ http://ducksmahal.com/2010/07/07/lament/#comments Wed, 07 Jul 2010 19:00:15 +0000 Audubon Ron http://ducksmahal.com/?p=1608 ]]> I lament.

I lament the sorrow and the grief.  I lament the pain in my guts from what I have done.  I lament I ever saw the knife and the fork.  I lament this 4^th of July b/c I ate so much food Sunday I think it is only today that I’m starting to come round and feel better.

I ate a lot of this – Schweinefleisch.

I ate a lot of that – Krautsalat

And drank way too much of this – Red Tail Ale by the Mendocino Brewing Company.  My favorite beer in the entire world.

Oh and I have been paying for it – these sins.  But now it’s all salads from here on.  I promise.  I will.  All salads.  And I will post a few salad recipes w/some really cool dressings I’ve collected and/or invented over time.

• B/c, it’s all about portion control – people.
• It’s all about counting calories and trimming the waste line – people.
• It’s all about returning to that Romanesque, Michaelangelo statue of David, hard abs, tight body, Rock-n-roll Bad ass Ron you – people.
• It’s all about making you lose your breath at the sight of my chiseled one heck of a specimen body – people.
• You deserve a a love object
• You deserve a warrior tuff man
• You deserve eye candy – ladies.

And I deserve never again suffering my wife rub my Buddha belly and sing:

“Okay Ron, Jelly roll baby

You’re my jelly roll man

Jelly roll cupcake

I’m your jelly roll fan.”

I hate it when she does that!

Yo Little Woman, I get the message!  And know what else Little Woman, it’s a good thing I’m into Granny Porn woman!

Oh, I lament ya’ll.  Oh, I lament alright.

I will leave you with another original song I wrote and recorded on my computer playing my classical guitar.  It is entitled, what else – Lament.

Tired of the usual peas, porridge hot and peas, porridge cold and some of them leftovers stored in the Frigidaire nine days old.  YUUUK!  We went Romanian.

Yeah, there’s a whole line-up of Romanian recipes out there even though some say there is no such thing as Romanian Cuisine.   If so, I argue, there is no such thing as the Mark Twain of KFC, the Pippi Long Stocking of the real chipotle burger or the king of Whooper Freak-out.

But I digress.

It appears I’m not serious enough for anthropology food.  When I surf the world over I see that my blog is entirely far too colloquial for the average person.  Who could imagine anyone living in the woods would possess a tittle of sophistication?  There is severe drama out there in the food world and I can’t imagine things that would make me peck pickled peppers.  Suffice-it-to-say, I’m not part of the “smart cooking people” crowd.  I am inferior.  So, Romanian food I found to be the perfect portal to sharpen my cosmopolitan – not the drink.

I submit links for these recipes b/c I’m a little too tired to actually type them and I’m getting older by the minute and these sites do it a bunch better than me as I “while away the time.”

Romanian Baked Vegetable Stew

Cock-a-Leek Romanian Soup

Cock-a-Leek, yeah, I know.

So once upon a time, there was this husband who got into a nasty brouhaha with his wife of nine years over the choice of brick they would use to construct their front steps.   The wife was known to blow her stack when she felt her husband was patronizing her since she knows everything there is to know about everything.  So while the husband and wife went back and forth over color, size and design, they also ate Romanian food and the mason and the brick salesman decided it was time to exit stage left and not get involved in domestic affairs – the cowards.  As it turns out the wife was right.  The husband hates that.  The End.

On the other side of the planet in the kitchen sat St. Agnes who in all things was a little bit rotten but cooked with savoir vivre.  Though we have the tendencies to be inspired by notions of genetic immortality in these matters, I can’t say my passion for cooking was the result of a particular genome.  After all, four percent of our DNA is Neanderthal.  Even if we eat our meat raw or cook it by way of abbreviation such as with the George Foreman Grill, in some manner or another we will forage and prepare our foodstuffs. But to take the freshest of produce and thereby deliver it to the Venus of Esculence desires the patience of a legal scrivener and the passionate tongue of an enthusiastic courtesan.

And we must be willing to try all things – even Brussel Sprouts.  There be no consistencies undesirable.  Not one.  Everything is a food.  Furthermore, how many times have you yourself reproved the little one, “Eat your peas,” yet, be offended by the oyster?

I implore you – embrace this sexy miniature cabbage with vivre.

As assistance in these matters, the video embedded below is a segment on how to eat something seven times in order to force oneself to like it.  Below that is a recipe for Brussel Sprout Hash.  Do not be off put. Go bravely.

Know that I am heartened by your comments in overcoming your darkest comestible barrier.

Brussel Sprout Hash

1 Container of fresh green Brussel Sprouts cut in half and then cross cut

1 tbsp minced garlic

3 tbsp Olive Oil

1 tbsp Balsamic vinegar

1 tbsp Worcestershire

Salt and pepper

Pour two tbsp olive oil in a sauce pan and get the oil fairly hot.  Add garlic and sauté one minute.  Add sprouts.  Vigorously stir coating the sprouts in the olive oil.  Add Balsamic vinegar and Worcestershire, salt and pepper and the last tbsp of olive oil and stir in.  Allow to sauté two-to-three minutes stirring a few more times.  Seal pot with lid, turn off heat.  Let steam in own juices.  Serve while steamy hot.

Next food post might be on the Limburger Onion sandwich.  I said might.  Let’s see how we do with the Brussel Sprouts.

Little Woman: Ro-un? Ro-un?
(I thought it was an angel.)

Me: Here I am. I’m floating. Are you an angel?
LW: Yes, I am your little angel.
Me: That’s nice. You sound just like my wife.
LW: Can you see me?
Me: Not really. Everything is so foggy.
LW: Can you see this paper?
Me: Yes, sort of.
LW: Can you sign it?
Me: Yes, I suppose so, what is it?
LW: It’s your will.
Me: My will? Am I dead?
LW: Not if you can feel my finger up your nose.
(Finger inserted into my nose).

Me: What? Wha-ut?
LW: It’s time to get up.
Me: Why?
LW: I need you to put gas in my car.
Me: Did you run out?
LW: Not yet, but I was too lazy to stop at the gas station. I know we have gas in the shed.
Me: Where are you going?
LW: Shopping.
Me: What for?
LW: Anything. You look awful. You should fix yourself something to eat.

And there I coughed, a new cough, never coughed before and there, I rattled and rattled and wheezed and gurgled. It was Will ToLive, no Dr. Will ToLive and NyQuil.

When I wasn’t in bed I watched the Golf Channel so I could get a good noonday sleep. I ate 22 cent Ramen Soup packs b/c they take all of ten minutes to cook.

And there I dreamed. I dreamed of 30 virgins…okay, you’re not getting any details. But, for some reason I just now remembered I had a serious crush on my neighbor lady when I was a kid. Weird. For real, my mother loaned me to her on Friday night for awhile b/c her husband travelled a lot and she needed a companion to drive up to the Frostop for a burger in her 1965 Corvette. Say, you don’t suppose there was…like I have repressed memories of…nah, can’t be. The nerve, I can’t remember the details. I suppose I’ve always been a gigolo. (pronounced: shig-a-lo).

So, in order to celebrate Mother’s Day, my life, my many blessings, and memories I can’t remember, I made the Little Woman a Chicken Pontalba for dinner. Translated, chicken with a Béarnaise sauce. I won’t bother you with the recipe b/c it’s just too much and too many elbows and hands flying around for your average mom type and too rich for the little ones, but it is good – ever so often.

The Béarnaise is an exercise in egg yoke chemistry. It takes a lifetime of practice to perfect. You must become “one” with the yoke.

It was named after the beautiful Baroness Pontalba; who, as the lore goes, drove young men to the Frostop in her Corvette. Whatthehey!

Essentially it is chicken breast browned and then steamed in a white wine, topped with a mixture of ham dices, mushrooms, green onion tops, garlic and fried diced potatoes sautéed together in butter, white wine, a pinch of Cayenne and if that weren’t enough butter then topped with a Béarnaise sauce with fresh tarragon leaves, which I have growing on the back porch. And it looks thusly so in parts. Remember, you can click the pic.

And thusly so in preparation:

And like so in finale:

Very lemony, buttery, tarragony, hammy and rich.

As I type this it is now 10:14 p.m. Easter Sunday night.  I rolled up here onto my bed and rolled around on my bed until I rolled up just right onto the pillows.  What a procedure.  I can barely see the keyboard but for my belly roll.

Ever once and a while I get on a binge like that with certain foods, when even I, a blind pig finds an acorn.  Speaking of blind pigs we smoked pork ribs today.  Hmm boy, they were good.

I asked The Little Woman, whom by-the-way we are back to utter marital bliss and heavenly rapture again after the FaceBook skirmish/scuffle thingy.  As it happens, most of you were right, she has been harboring trust issues with me.  I allayed all concerns and think pretty much put everything back into proper perspective by explaining, “I know its hard being married to a hunk, older guy, stud muffin and all.  I mean like, who wouldn’t want some of this?  It’s got to be hard on you.”

So, I asked her what she wanted to do Easter.  She said a rib throw down.  A rib throw down here involves her and me competing with a rack each and doing our own thing but cooking over the same coals.  Then we fuss over the cooking process with the occasional taunt/provocation thingy like, “I seen spam look better than that slab.” Then it’s to the table for the final judging where she eats one of mine and I eat one of hers.  Then I say, “Well, yours taste better.”  To which she says, “Yeah I know.”

And this is how it all landed.

Me:  What’s in that shake?

LW:  It’s a secret.

Me:  Well what if something happened to the recipe and you couldn’t remember.

LW:  Then the world misses out on the greatest rib shake recipe that ever lived.

Me:  C’mon, what’s in it?  C’mon, c’mon, c’mon…

LW:  I put a little of this and a little of that…

Me:  Not possible, I already used up this; there is plenty of that left.

LW:  No, I hid some of this in the back of the spice cabinet.

Me:  You little shit, I was looking for this when I was looking for that.  I only found a little of this.  Not fair, now my ribs will be missing this when I know I can’t win with that.

LW:  (Rubs finger and thumb together) Smallest violin in the world playing your song.

Me:  Well I never.  I am absolutely certain I won’t tell you what’s in my shake.

LW:  What do you think I’ve been standing here watching you do the last half-hour?  Pa-thet-ic.

Me:  Pa-thet-ic?  I seen buzzards pick apart something that looks better than your slab.  I didn’t realize skunk spray was an herb.

LW:  I’m calling Gordon Ramsey.

Me:  Yeah, don’t make me go 9 ½ Weeks on you.

I know everyone has their own wiggle-and-walk when it comes to rib cooking.  But this is how we does it here in my parts.  It all starts with a good slab of ribs.  And why a good slab costs as much as a filet mignon these days is beyond me.  How did pork and lamb get to costing as much as a steak?

Wash and dry the rack, trim away fragments and pull the membrane away from the bottom of the rack.  I use a Phillips head screw driver.  Then rub the shake (dry rub) into the meat.

There are about 80 million combination of dry rub but it mostly consists of equal parts paprika, onion powder, garlic powder, salt, pepper and basil, but add and subtract what you like.  I also add dried mustard.

Do yourself a flavor and never parboil ribs.  This robs the meat of flavor and is just plain dumb.  As one rib man wrote, “Those completely lost in the wilderness may even commit the taste robbing travesty of parboiling ribs in a vain attempt to make them tender.”

Note The Little Woman’s rack is the darker one in the back.  She put more of this than that in her dry rub.

Either cook the ribs over indirect coals or you can use a smoker like I do.  A smoker is a separate box for the coals on the side and sends the heat into the main cooker through a large hole between the two boxes.  I use coals and whatever pieces of pecan wood I can find.  Humbly, everyone has their favorite dry rub and their favorite hard wood.   Cook in 200 degrees for about four hours basting the meat every 30 minutes or so and check the coals.  Each time I cook ribs is a new adventure.  Sometimes ribs cook quicker than other times.  It depends on the humidity and ambient temperature.  Usually 3-to-4 hours.

Note The Little Woman basting the ribs with a mixture of equal parts to make one cup of red wine vinegar and water.  I also add a little Worcestershire and red wine.  Make sure to “mop your meat.”  Note The Little Woman Nija mopping her meat.  (Actually I had the shutter open too long).

For the last half hour, place the ribs in a covered oven proof dish, mop on the BBQ sauce and cook on 350.  Remove and serve.

Not sure if I ever mentioned but The Little Woman and I have always eaten Japanese style.  We sit on the floor.  That poor table has seen better days.   It’s hard locating a replacement.

I was going to write a post about WWII fascism as it relates to the cost of freedom in the idealistic world of Benito Mussolini’s first National Fascist Party and the underpinning influence of Plato’s Republic serving as his inspiration and then I got this gnarly frig’in migraine from the research, which that and the vertigo I was getting from the olive oil spatter on my glasses made me want to hurl beets all over this computer so I dropped it – fast.  Wow, don’t we both feel better now?  I think I’ll post another great and fabulously ducky recipe instead.

It’s an Italian recipe. And a Jewish recipe. It’s a combo Italian/Jewish recipe called Hamim. That should quash Mussolini’s anti-Semitic attitude. Not to mention, he once had a Jewish mistress. Did you know that? I almost married a Jewish girl. Since I’m part Jewish that would have worked out good for me aside from the fact that she hated my guts. She wouldn’t have pee’d on my guts if they were on fire kind of hated my guts.  We dated ten years ago right before I met The Little Woman. I called her mom last month to see how everyone was getting along. Her mom told me she specifically mentioned recently she still hates my guts, in case I ever call. Her daughter’s name is Portia like in the Merchant of Venice.

I lied.  I just told you a way big ole story and you bought it. I’m particularly playful tonight so no telling how this post will end.  You better watch out.

Back on earth, I really love it here this time of year.  In future posts, I will attempt to post pictures of the buds and blossoms on my property, which are many. I have pretty much everything like magnolias, gardenias, crepe myrtles, azaleas, blueberries, wisteria, iris and an assortment of other stuff I don’t even know the genus and species name of.

The below pic is of my blueberry patch that recently blossomed. Periodically I cut them chest high to encourage new growth. Above pic is a close-up of the blossoms.

At anytime you can click on any picture to expand it.  The below pic is of the Hughes Net blossom.  Note the big dish which is common for this variety particularly this time of year.

Below is a recent attempt at refurbishing a lawn ornament thingie at the front of the driveway near the mailbox.  The tree overcame it but I thought either take it out or do something with it.  It was there when we bought the house, complete with reflectors.  I think the wheel is from a cotton gin but could be a wagon wheel.   The reflectors are there so no one will hit it as they turn into the driveway.  The bracket on the bottom left post is there b/c someone hit it anyway.

These are just some of the many sights and sounds here at Ducks Mahal.

(Italian) Hamim

…is an odd name isn’t it. Its origin, so I’ve read, is a Jewish dish from Ferrara, Italy, near Venice.

Meat
As a Hebronite Hamim it was made as a medly of kosher meats and beans. Then the Italians dumped in some of their stuff to include pork, which as we know is the non-kosher other white meat. The recipe I first reviewed called for three meats in one dish actually. Meat one, pieces of brisket but who has an eight pound slab of brisket lying around. So I’ve used a small corned beef without the seasoning packet and boiled it two hours before hand. Brisket is tough. I eventually ditched that idea altogether in favor of easy country style pork ribs. The second meat is boiled meatballs. But, who has ten hours slapping meat balls together and boiling them. The third meat is Italian sausage. As it turns out Italian sausage gives this dish most of its taste if you use sausage with fennel and anise. If not, you might need to add extra Italian herbs.

A final comment, who wants all that meat? So I got this dish down to 20 minutes and less than a pound of meat for two people, which is still a lot.

Greens
The first recipe called for Swiss Chard. Sorry, but I can’t find that here. I’ve used kale but finally went with what is abundant and that is cabbage. If you use kale you will need to boil it first for a half hour.  Cabbage can be added straight to the pot.

Beans
The original recipe called for red and white beans. With all that meat, and greens and beans, it could be a serious indo-body Lawrence Welk episode if you get my meaning so I just use white Cannellini beans, the slightly larger version of Northern beans. If no Cannellini, use Northern.

I have actually slapped this dish together in less time than it took me to explain it. You will love it.

Ingredients for two
1 Tbsp. olive oil
1 small chopped onion
1 chopped Roma tomato
½ lb. Italian sausage (with fennel and anise)
½ lb. pork country style ribs or corned beef
1 can of Cannellini beans
1 quarter cabbage sliced into thin pieces
.5 cup white wine
Salt and pepper
Dash of Italian herbs

Sauté onions and tomato 8 minutes. Add wine. Cut up meats and add to pot. Sauté longer. Add salt and pepper. Add beans w/juice. Add cabbage. Stir. Get hot. Serve.

Can it be that easy?

Say yes.

The Little Woman asks, “Why do you have red paint on the grocery list?”

Me: I’m going to paint the wagon wheel at the mailbox.

LW:  Make sure to buy Rustoleum.

Me: Yes dear.

LW:  Did you set all the clocks forward?

Me:  Yes dear.

LW:  Forward you know.  Spring forward, Fall back.

Me:  Yes dear, got it.

LW:  I thought you were going to vacuum the bathroom floor.

Me: I’ll get it, I’m waiting for the floor to dry some, I just showered.

LW:  I better call my Mom.  Are you coming with me to Aunt Freddie’s today?

Me: (I’m thinking, who turned on her motor?)  Of course dear, she’s my aunt, not yours.

LW:  Okay but we can’t stay long, I have work to do.

Me:  Fine dear, you tell me when you need to leave.

LW:  What’s for dinner?

Me:  Al the Wops

LW: Huh?  What’s that?

Me:  No worries, you’ll like it.

Before the dinner menu: Spring is here.  The weather has been absolutely delicious.  The pear tree is beginning to blossom.  Other blossoms are not too far behind.  And yesterday was the first day I prepped the BBQ grille from its long winter hiatus.  It’s good to separate oneself from the kerfuffle of US politics and bad economics to focus on other things, like the outdoors and BBQing.

On Al’s Place: Al the Wops is a little joint in Locke, California, south of Sacramento on the Sacramento River.  The politically correct persons gave Al the Wops a butt-load about the name and its offensiveness toward Italians.  Now they call it Al’s Place as not to offend, but it will always be Al the Wops to me and it will always have “Al Wops” on the front.  A basic on the menu at Al’s is grilled steak, salad and a Marinara sauce.  Chase that with a nice bottle of red wine and jackpot, we have a comfort food winner.

This is a pic of Al’s Place.  I like funky.

This is a pic of the bar inside.

Those are dollar bills tacked to the ceiling.  The tradition is to fold a dollar bill, place a tack through it, place a silver dollar or heavy coin in your hand under the tack and fling it up to the ceiling to make the dollar stick.  Not sure how this tradition started but it’s like leaving money in the Trevi Fountain, sorta.

There is another establishment in San Francisco that serves a steak and Marinara dish.  It’s Original Joe’s.  Pic below is an Original Joe’s serving.  However, that’s actually prime rib and pasta but you can get a grilled steak.  In my dish I used a strip loin

How to make a fair cut of meat better:

I look for the cheapest steaks and study the grain and fat content b/c I know I can always tame it some.  First, always coat the steak with a light coat of olive oil.  I brush it on.  This prevents it from sticking to the hot grille.  Second, take a seasoning like the one I use, Montreal Steak seasoning from McCormick, sprinkle it on the steak and then press the seasoning into the surface of the meat.  Always make sure to cut away any thick fatty parts.  Bring a timer and cook on hot coals and keep turning at one minute intervals per side to the desired doneness. For medium rare, a one inch thick steak should be cooked 6 to 8 minutes total.  There are some books that suggest leaving it on four minutes then turn for another four.  I have learned through trial and error, the fire can get extra hot and you’ll overcook it if you’re not carefully observant.

Marinara Sauce

1 Tbsp olive oil

1 Tbsp dried basil

Salt and pepper

1 15 oz. can of tomato puree

2 whole garlic cloves

½ cup of red wine

In medium sauce pan, sauté garlic in olive oil for several minutes.  Add all other ingredients and cook on low for about 20 minutes.

Pasta Shells

Follow directions

Salad

Whatever floats your boat.

I use a medley of fresh radicchio, romaine, endive, celery and avocado with a creamy Italian.

The real trick in this meal is timing.  Start coals first b/c they will take 20 minutes to get nice and hot.  Then start the Marinara and boil the water for the pasta.  While that’s happening put the salad together.  By the time the coals are ready the sauce should be good so turn the burner to warm.  Leave the pasta in the water after boiling but turn off the burner.  Bring steaks to grille.  Everything should be nice a hot when the steaks return.

Serve.

Let’s get the terminologies out of the way first:

Mirepoix (meer pwah) is diced onion, carrot and celery and is an essential in most French recipes, even standard Italian tomato sauce. When we open a can of tomato sauce and add an herb, that’s actually more of what is referred to as a Marinara Sauce. But even a Marinara is a misnomer. Marinara means “sailor” and was the dish of returning sailors in Naples, Italy so there was a little seafood or anchovy added to tomatoes cooked in olive oil and basil. When a mirepoix is added to a Marinara (sans seafood) and cooked slowly for an hour or more, it is more traditional Italian Ragu and quite nice. Beef Burgundy calls for a mirepoix and a tomato and tomato paste.

Bouquet Garni means “garnish bouquet” or a bundle of herbs tossed in a pot. As we have fresh herbs available during the year it is usually a bundle of that tied together and thrown in. But since we rely on dried herbs mostly, cheese cloth is used, cut to a 4” by 4” square and tie at the top with a string to create a sack of herbs. I found this technique several years ago and use it so much I have a stack of precut cheese cloth and a bunch of fresh garbage bag twisters (paper type) on hand at all times. Make sure not to use string or twisters made with plastic. The flavors distribute throughout the pot much more evenly with a bouquet garni. Try it and see what you’ve been missing.

Lardon: Small stick of bacon cut ¼ inch thick and 1 to 1½ inches long. (Whatever wide your bacon is.) But before cutting, read further on preparing smoked bacon. As the name implies, this is the lard in the pot.

Julia Child is famous for Beef Bourguignon. I looked but didn’t find it in the Joy of Cooking. I have a version of it called Beef Burgundy in another culinary cookbook. This is what I consider the “realistic” version of the recipe. Unlike Julia, there are no blow torches, jack hammers or chain saws used in the making of this recipe and just “one” tablespoon of butter. Julia seemed to like the power tool approach to cooking as well as sticks and sticks of butter.

Like playing classical guitar, once I transpose a piece or get a piece of music in its original state, I feel I owe it to the composer to play it once exactly as it was intended. After that, I own it and tweak it to what makes sense to me. Diehard pure enthusiasts need not apply in this kitchen. In this regard, Julia’s recipe I believe has several superfluous steps that frankly I found no noticeable difference at the end, though the steps make you feel like you are earning the dish. Maybe that’s the difference between Itzhak Perlman and Charlie Daniels or Julia and me. Who knows. So since I live in the country and I like Charlie Daniels, let’s pretend this is my “Country Style Beef Burgundy” version – for you purists. It’s a beef stew only fancy-er.

The quantities in this recipe are intended to feed two people:

2 strips bacon (thick cut)
1 lb. lean stew beef (I use country style beef ribs) cut into 1½ inch squares
3 medium carrots
1 celery stalk
1 firm round tomato
1 small yellow onion
1 Tbsp. flour
1 small plastic bag
1 cup of veal stock (or use ½ cup beef stock and ½ cup water)
3 cups of burgundy wine (I use Almaden Vineyards)
1 clove garlic
1 bouquet garni (1/2 bay leaf, 1 tsp. thyme, several peppercorns, 1 tsp. parsley tied in cheese cloth)
1 Tbsp tomato paste
½ lb. baby Portabella mushrooms
10 pearl onions
Salt and pepper to taste
Teeny-weeny olive oil
Lots of paper towels
Egg Noodles
Frying pan
Large casserole dish w/cover
Small sauce pan
Variety of spoons, forks, tongs, whatever
1 Big Head Todd, Sister Sweetly CD

Prep all food in advance b/c this dish gets a moving and a hoping. I also plug in the Big Head Todd song Groove Thing on my iPod and hit it. A note on how to shop for groceries with groove will appear later at the end of this post.

Lardon: Cut bacon in half and simmer (not boiled) 10 minutes in hot water. This takes out some of the over-powering hickory smoke flavor. Trust me, the hickory smoke is WAY TOO LOUD. Then remove, dry with paper towels and cut into quarter inch strips.

Mirepoix: Peel carrots and cut into ½” inch thick wheels. Peel celery and cut into ½” inch pieces, chop onions, whatever how you do it, not too big, not to small, peel the tomato and remove the seeds and chop tomato meat into ¼” inch pieces. Place, notice I said place, not put, there is a difference, the mirepoix and tomato in the same bowl and set aside. Note I said the same bowl, not “a” bowl; there is a difference there too.

Bouquet garni: Break half of a bay leaf in half once more so it will fit nicely in the cheese cloth bag, add peppercorns, thyme and parsley, tie at the top and set aside.

Garlic: Peel skin and get garlic press ready and on standby.

Beef: Cut into 1½” inch cubes and dry with paper towels. Wet beef won’t brown.

Plastic bag: Add flour inside the bag.

Burgundy Wine: Pour a glass for the chef; turn up next Big Head Todd song, which should be Soul for Every Cowboy. Dance like no one is watching, b/c they aren’t.

Preheat oven to 450. Now b/c you will need it soon. Now!! You know you forget this step and then later go, “Oh shoot, I forgot to preheat the oven.” You always do that.

Ready?

Take out frying pan and sauté lardons (bacon) for about 8 minutes to get most of the lard out but not crispy. Pull lardons (bacon) out with a slotted spoon and set aside.

Place beef in pan with the lard from the lardons (bacon) allowing plenty of space between pieces, do not crowd beef, they hate that, while the lard is almost smoky (I use setting 8 electric stove) and brown beef slightly crispy on both sides. This is the most important part of this dish and must be played exactly as the music is written. Remove from pan and set aside to cool some. Repeat process until all of the beef pieces are browned.

Then, place the mirepoix w/tomato meat into the frying pan and sauté in remaining juices and oil in the pan left by the beef and lardons (bacon), if low on juices and oil add a teeny-weeny olive oil, place bouquet garni in with the mirepoix and add the lardons (bacon) back in for 6 minutes.

Place beef into a plastic bag with flour, coat vigorously by shaking. Place beef into a casserole dish and place casserole dish into the 450 oven and bake the beef for 8 to 10 minutes. Bake the beef baby!

See, as you start sautéing the mirepoix you are also baking the beef. At 6 minutes on the mirepoix add garlic from the press and 1 cup of burgundy wine, one cup of stock and 1 Tbsp. of tomato paste. Stir and cook for about another 2 or 3 minutes. Oh man, don’t that smell good?

At the end of 10 minutes on beef, remove the beef and set the oven temperature down to 350. Add the sautéed ingredients w/sauce over the top of the beef into the casserole dish. Mix. Add one more cup of wine. This after all is beef burgundy. Cover and bake 1½ hours in oven.

Wash, de-stem and cut mushrooms into quarters. Cut the ends off pearl onions, lightly cut the first layer and then peel first layer off the onion. In frying pan add 1 Tbsp. of butter and brown the mushrooms and onions for about 8 minutes. Add to dish. Cook in oven another 30 minutes.

Serve over egg noodles.

Shopping w/groove. Tools: Grocery list w/pen to scratch off items, jeans, flannel shirt, iPod with earphones, very dark sunglasses. Put ensemble together, walk in store, get cart, kick up music, and shop in your own private Idaho. Hear music, make no eye contact, the natives will not know you’re there. This is the new normal for me.

(Pic ganked from Wikipedia)

FYI. The Little Woman left us – me, the cats, the dog, the ducks and the other critters. No sooner do we celebrate our anniversary does she hop on a plane to visit her daddy in Chicago. She said she’d come back. I hope she does, b/c I have to pick her up at the airport in 6 days. Wouldn’t I look like a spanked baby’s butt if she didn’t and I was there waiting.

I usually cook something special for myself while she’s gone, usually having to do with lamb, since she is not a fan of lamb, but I didn’t have lamb. I have ground meat. And there I thought, while getting pneumonia from standing in the open refrigerator door too long; know what, meatloaf is underrated. So I searched the cookbooks. In the below pic I’m actually reading an Asian cookbook. No meatloaf in there. So I dug around the frig and low and behind, I find all these ingredients and thought, child’s play. I’ll just go Bobby Flay on it and invent my own concoction.

I bet you’re wondering what my apron says.

I found the secret ingredient. Tonight’s secret ingredient is – Guinness Stout. If I’m going to kill myself, it might as well be with a stout.

Here are the ingredients:

1 lb. of ground meat
3 mushrooms
3 green onions
½ cup of Italian Bread crumbs
1 egg
½ tsp. garlic powder
1 Tbsp. melted butter
1 cup of Five Italian Cheeses
½ cup of Guinness beer
Catsup

Melt butter in microwave. Finely chop mushrooms and onions.

Add all ingredients in a large bowl and thoroughly mix. I used a big bowl and wooden spoon and hardly got any of it on me.

Then I placed it in a casserole dish like so and tried to get the thing to stand up. But, I think I went a little more than a ½ cup on the Guinness. I messed with that thing and messed with it and finally said, “Hey know what, I remember now, I love flat meatloaf.” So I put the meatflat in the oven at 375 for one hour, then added the catsup for another 15 minutes.

Viola. Voilà? Anyway, served the meatflat with gravy and mashed potatoes. It tasted great, not flat.

And, the dog loved it.