
I love my job. I really, really do. But most days are a Tasmanian devil-like whirling dervish of recipe testing and photographing, and usually what we wind up eating for dinner was left over from some show or had just been photographed for a magazine. Ironically as a food writer, I don’t often work with ingredients when they’re actually in season on account of the lead time. On Canada day this past July I was making gingerbread and mince tarts. Today I was working on Valentine’s day stuff.

Some days I just want to make dinner with no ulterior motives. Today I was working on a cocktail party story that involves meatballs, and so I took the opportunity to take a little detour and make pork meatball bánh mì – Vietnamese subs – that I’ve been wanting to try for about a year now. The recipe looks long but they’re simple to make – and in fact they could potentially be made ahead – the meatball part, anyway – which can be frozen for future sandwiches. I imagine some sort of miniature version would be pretty fab for a cocktail party. I may start packing them to take to lunch at my desk upstairs.

I skipped the spicy mayo, opting instead to spread on real mayo and add sriracha according to each taste. (I’ve a wimpier palate than Mike.) The baguette was pretty delicious, but a tad tough on the teeth; I may go for a softer roll next time. Or maybe not – I liked the chew, too. And it wasn’t too crumby; ideal for at-your-desk eating over a keyboard.

The meatballs made with fish sauce, garlic and fresh basil were divine. Totally. When our sandwiches were done I found myself nibbling at the meatballs, topped with a wad of pickled carrots. There must be salad potential here too. So yum.
Pork Meatball Bánh Mì
Adapted from Bon Appétit, January 2010
Meatballs:
1 lb. ground pork
1/4 cup finely chopped fresh basil
4 garlic cloves, crushed
1-2 green onions, finely chopped
1 Tbsp. fish sauce
2 tsp. sriracha or other hot chile sauce (or to taste)
1 Tbsp. brown sugar
salt & pepper
Sandwiches:
2 cups coarsely grated carrots
1/4 cup rice vinegar
1/4 cup sugar
4 10″ individual baguettes or four chunks of baguette
mayo
thinly sliced cucumber (use a vegetable peeler)
fresh cilantro
In a bowl, mix together the pork, basil, garlic, onions, fish sauce, sriracha, sugar and salt and pepper and mix it all up with your hands. Roll into 1″ balls and place on a rimmed baking sheet. Bake at 400F for 20 minutes, or until golden and cooked through.
Meanwhile, toss the grated carrot with the rice vinegar and sugar in a small bowl. Let sit until you’re ready to assemble your sandwiches.
To assemble, spread baguettes with mayo; top with a squirt of sriracha to taste, and stuff with pickled carrots, cucumber strips, meatballs and sprigs of fresh cilantro. Serves 4.

November 24 2011 | pork and sandwiches | 17 Comments »

I’ve mentioned before how nice it is to have a chef living next door.
I was out pilfering the Nanking cherries that line our street – oddly some of the bushes have been stripped by birds, but others are heavy with ripe fruit. Wade comes out and casually mentions that he has some maple whisky and Nanking cherry barbecue sauce in his fridge. Of course he does.

There’s nothing wrong with Nanking cherry jelly, of course. Or cherry lemonade. But I had never considered Nanking cherries as a vehicle for barbecue sauce, in place of tomatoes. Brilliant.

My mom declared this the best rib sauce she’d ever had. It’s flavourful but not overly sweet, and it doesn’t have that harsh smokiness so many barbecue sauces come with.
Good news! Wade offered up his recipe. Which is probably smart, since he likely doesn’t have enough jars in his fridge to go around. Thanks Wade! If you can’t get your hands on some maple whisky, I’m sure regular whisky and a hit of pure maple syrup (say 1/4 cup?) would do the trick.
Maple Whisky & Nanking Cherry Barbecue Sauce
Recipe by Wade!
8 cups Nanking cherries, washed and stemmed
½ cup sugar
½ tsp ground ginger
1 tsp onion powder
2 tsp garlic powder
1 tsp mustard powder (or 1 Tbsp grainy mustard)
1 tsp kosher salt
½ tsp black pepper
1 cup brown sugar
1 ½ cups maple whiskey (from Highwood Distillers in Alberta)
In a large saucepan combine cherries and sugar. Bring to a boil, reduce heat and simmer until cherries have given up their juice. Remove from heat and push through a sieve to remove skins and pits. Return cherry juice to saucepan over medium heat, add all the dry ingredients, stir well and bring to a boil. Reduce heat to a simmer and add 1 cup maple whiskey. Continue to simmer until slightly thickened. Remove from heat and stir in the final 1/2 cup whiskey. Cool and refrigerate in a sealed container.
August 16 2011 | on the grill and pork | 5 Comments »

Right. Like I said, every time I bow out and plea too busy to post, I wind up posting more. Go figure.
This bacon jam. I did it for Swerve last week, and then served it to Jim this morning on a grilled burger. (I made the burgers out of half ground sirloin, half Spolumbo’s chorizo sausage, squeezed out of its casing. Shaped the pattie around a thick square slice of old cheddar. Then melted another square of Gouda on top on the barbecue for good measure.
To make the bacon jam, you chop and cook bacon, onions and garlic down with brown sugar and coffee and maple syrup until it turns into jam. Really. You should make this.





Bacon Jam
1 lb good-quality bacon
1 small onion, chopped
4-5 garlic cloves, chopped
1/2 cup packed brown sugar
1/2 cup brewed coffee (hot or cold)
1/4 cup maple syrup
1 Tbsp. balsamic vinegar (optional)
1 Tbsp. grainy mustard (optional)
Roughly chop the bacon and cook it in a heavy pot; transfer to a bowl using a slotted spoon, draining off most of the drippings. Saute the onion and garlic cloves in the rest for 5 minutes, until soft and starting to turn golden. Return the bacon to the pan, add the brown sugar, coffee, maple syrup, vinegar and mustard and cook over medium heat for half an hour, or until deep golden and thickened to the consistency of jam. If you like, cool and pulse in the food processor for a finer texture. Serve warm or cold.
June 21 2011 | pork and preserves | 49 Comments »

Not very seasonal, I know. Then again, it has dipped down to -41 this week. I’ve been a bit all over the place – Red Deer, Edmonton, Jasper – driving a lot and cooking a lot, but not regular-like, at dinnertime in my own kitchen. And I was missing it.
This satisfied my desire to make a plain old average dinner, one that included warm meat and mashed potatoes and frozen peas, while listening to the 5 o’clock news in the other room. It was really good. The time it took to cook was just enough to simmer a pot of quartered (unpeeled) potatoes, which I roughly mashed with a splash of milk and dab of butter. All was ready in under half an hour.
I didn’t have rosemary and it was fine without; I imagine it would be even better with. It’s the sort of recipe that once made can be repeated mindlessly and without measuring. It’s a keeper. And I love incorporating cranberry sauce when it’s nowhere near Christmas (although it feels like it) – the onions, stock and balsamic transform it into something entirely different – more complex and not as sweet as the stuff you’d serve with turkey.

Pork Tenderloin with Cranberry-Balsamic Sauce
inspired by the November 1998 issue of Bon Appétit
dab of butter
drizzle of oil
1 pork tenderloin
1 small onion, chopped
1 sprig of rosemary, leaves chopped (optional)
1/2 cup beef or chicken broth
1/2 can whole berry cranberry sauce
2 Tbsp. balsamic vinegar
Preheat oven to 450°F. In a heavy skillet, heat a drizzle of oil and dab of butter over medium-high heat. Sprinkle pork with salt and pepper and sear on all sides, until golden all over. Place the pork in a small baking dish (or loaf pan) and roast until thermometer inserted into the thickest part registers 155°F – about 15 minutes.
Meanwhile, melt another dab of butter in the skillet; add the onion and sauté until soft and starting to turn golden. Add the broth, cranberry sauce and vinegar and whisk until cranberry sauce melts and the sauce thickens.
Let the pork rest a few minutes before slicing; serve immediately, with the sauce. Serves 4.
March 07 2011 | pork | 7 Comments »

I don’t mind sharing with you that I’m a little burned out. Even a little bummed out and a little stressed out. Maybe collectively a lot of all of the above.
And I just read that comment from my sister under the double double cake, and it made me all teary, which is probably very therapeutic. This looming Big Birthday must be getting to me more than I realize.
It could also have something to do with my to-do list. All good things on my plate, of course, but this week I’m writing for Swerve (four pages, plus photos!), the Herald, City Palate, Parents Canada, and over at Babble. I made samosas using the Nenshi family recipe this morning on CBC, and attended the opening party for the new ATCO Blue Flame Kitchen today, and presented to the CADA board for grant money for a community event yesterday, and emceed a morning brunch and talk at the Glenbow on Sunday. And last week I got to judge a latte art competition and teach/oversee a Soup Sisters class, and do and attend a bunch of other stuff, and I’m really very lucky. Where most people keep their time management skills I have a need to not miss out on anything.
Tonight I’m up late trying to put together a devil-vampire costume, putting together recipes and shopping lists for 3 back to back cooking classes I’m teaching at the Cooking Room in Red Deer on Thursday, and trying to figure out what gory things I’ll be making on BT early in the morning on Friday, and when exactly I’m going to prep it all. I’m working on another project that launches on Friday that I’m excited about – I’ll fill you in on it then, and Sue and I just got the last of our bean book edits in (but still haven’t finished doing all the photographs), and this weekend I have to plan and prep and tape a segment for Good Bite, and then there’s a Monday night event and another cooking class next Wednesday (theme: bacon), the night before we leave for New York.
Have I told you yet that we’re going to New York? I’ve always wanted to go. We’ve of course chosen one of the busiest (read: priciest) times of year to go, and have nearly maxed out our credit cards just booking flights and finding somewhere to stay. We’re still pretty clueless about what to do once we get there, I haven’t had a chance to go through all the recommendations in my inbox, and while we’re getting personal, I’ll confess on Mike’s behalf that he has a horrible fear of flying and hasn’t done it in about 10 years except once for a funeral, which was a bit of an anomalous situation. So he’s a stressed out wreck and I’m hoping it doesn’t a) go sharply downhill over the next week, or b) trigger an outbreak of gout, causing him to be unable to walk once we get to New York.
It’s really a shame that stress doesn’t count as a cardio workout.
Don’t you love it when I get all sleep deprived and cathartic?
Let’s get back to the ribs.
Yesterday, after spending the afternoon lost in the vicinity of Spruce Meadows looking for a convention I was supposed to be speaking at, finding it an hour and a half late (having toured Bridlewood and Somerset and stopping to buy a map, even, which turned out to not help at all because the address was wrong to begin with, and on top of it Google maps sent me to an industrial park and I wound up beside the main sorting centre for Canada Post) I fumbled through my bit, then came back into town at rush hour trying to come up with a reasonable birthday dinner for Mike that might seem like it had been planned. Mothers’ Little Helper was stuck in my head, and I was tempted to buy a frozen steak, just because. But then I remembered I had frozen ribs, ones that had been preroasted so really only needed thawing and a quick revival on the barbecue.
They’re ones I made for CBC a month or so ago – they seem to have stuck out in peoples’ memories, having been marinated in a slurry of coconut milk, ginger, garlic, fresh cilantro, brown sugar and lemongrass. Seems like a thoughtful birthday dinner, don’t you think?

Thai Coconut Barbecued Ribs
adapted from Bon Appétit, September 1995
2 racks pork ribs
1 14 oz. (398 mL) can coconut milk
1/2 cup chopped fresh cilantro (stems too)
1/2 packed cup golden brown sugar
1/4 cup soy sauce
2 shallots, chopped
3 Tbsp. chopped garlic
2 Tbsp. chopped peeled fresh ginger
1 stalk lemongrass, chopped
Place ribs on a rimmed baking sheet, cover tightly with foil and cook for 2 1/2-3 hours at 300F.
Combine coconut milk, cilantro, brown sugar, soy sauce, shallots, garlic, ginger and lemongrass in a food processor and process until almost smooth. Transfer marinade to a large baking dish, add ribs and turn to coat. Cover and refrigerate overnight.
Prepare barbecue (medium-high heat) or preheat broiler. Remove ribs from marinade; reserve marinade. Grill or broil ribs until golden brown, turning occasionally, about 8 minutes. Transfer to platter and tent with foil to keep warm. Transfer marinade to a small saucepan and boil for 1 minute. Serve ribs with marinade.


October 26 2010 | freezable and on the grill and pork | 28 Comments »