Scrapple: A (Seriously) Whole Hog Recipe

I still remember the first  - and only - time I ate scrapple.  We were on our annual summer camping trip (Daddy taught public school, and camping was our big vacation of the year) and were somewhere in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania.  I remember seeing local Amish people in their horse-drawn buggies... and I remember the scrapple that my mother bought at the grocery store and fried up in the iron skillet that always accompanied us on our trips.  Meaty, crispy on the outside, soft and savory in the middle.  Oh my; clearly, it was memorable.

Scrapple is a Pennsylvania Dutch/Amish breakfast staple, made by slow-cooking the scraps and odds and ends of pork that cling to various bones until they fall off of them, and then seasoning the meat and broth and adding cornmeal to it.  After the cornmeal is cooked, the resulting savory mush/polenta is poured into a loaf pan and chilled, then sliced and fried until the exterior is brown and crispy.  You can eat it straight up, or with maple syrup, apple sauce, or eggs.

Cooked Meat Scraps, Head and Trotters

Fast forward 40 or so years....  I've been buying whole meat animals from my rancher friend, Mary Pettis-Sarley barngoddess@dishmail.net for several years now, including many half pigs and a few whole ones.  When Vicky at Ibleto Meats calls for my cutting instructions ("how many chops to the packet, how thick, etc.") there have been several occasions when she has asked if I want the head.  "Uh, no thanks!" has been my reply every time.  I just didn't know what to do with it, and it was (presumably) huge, and well, you know - yuck.  Not that I'm proud of the "yuck;" I do believe that if you eat meat it's respectful of the animal and its sacrifice to use all of it that is humanly possible, but frankly, I just couldn't deal.  But then one day.....

My friend and cooking compadre, Ondine, scored half of a teeny, tiny Ossabaw hog.  And by half, I do mean half.  I don't know what happened to the tail, but the half included a front and a rear trotter, and half of the head, sawn right up the middle.  They were vacuum packed and frozen, and when Ondine kindly agreed to split the split with me, she asked me to put the half head and trotters in my freezer, for us to use in a project later.  And lo, the time came for me to make room for the whole steer we had purchased from Mary (to be shared by a team of 7), and it was time to do something with those trotters and that head.  I thawed them out, and we got ready to make hogshead cheese (aka "souse") because we couldn't think what else you would do with a head.  But then our neighbor Natalie mentioned scrapple, I remembered that breakfast in a Pennsylvania campground 40 years ago, and we "scrapped" the headcheese plans and went for scrapple instead.

Yeah, it wasn't easy dealing with this.

Now, there was a fair amount of work involved, I'm not going to lie to you.  And there was the moment when I unwrapped the thawed head and thought "Dear God, what have I gotten myself into!" (Ondine was busy that day; she says my message to her as I examined the head was priceless.) But I dealt.  It took place over a couple of days; day 1, I cooked the meat and picked through the bones.  Day two, Ondine went through the meat again to make sure I didn't miss any bones or cartilage and chopped the meat.  Meanwhile, I skimmed the fat off the broth, and made sure I got all the bones and such out of the stock.  Then we seasoned it all, cooked up the meaty cornmeal mush and put it in our assortment of loaf pans to cool.  Time consuming, yes. But, it was fun, it made a big batch (I've been generous with it  - so far!) and oh, day three, when we fried it up - it was so gooood! 

Trotters

You are probably wondering; was it as good as the long-distant memory of scrapple?  Why, yes.  Yes, it was.  But even better was how much my wonderful neighbors, Betty and Jimmy Pugh enjoyed the pieces I gave them.  They grew up in Alabama and have lived in Berkeley for years and years. They had never heard of Scrapple before, but when I mentioned a hogs head and head cheese to Betty, Betty told me that she had made head cheese all the time growing up.  I just knew they would love Scrapple, and they did.  Betty begged me for the next hog's head, as did my Guatemalan friend Lidia.... I doubt I'll ever pass one up again if it's offered to me!

Ondine and I used a recipe from Bette Kroenig, owner of Bette's Oceanview Diner in Berkeley, and adapted it.  Ondine says their scrapple is good stuff, and we do like this recipe - with the adjustments we made to it.

Scrapple

Makes 6 loaf pans full.

I.
1/2 a small pig's head (ahem: brain removed), cleaned
2 trotters, cleaned
several pounds of meaty pork neck bones

or: 1 pork butt roast (about 5 pounds)
4 trotters/hocks, cleaned

1 whole yellow onion, cut in 6-8 pieces
3 stalks celery, cut into 2-3 pieces each
1 TB whole peppercorns
5 or 6 whole cloves
4 bay leaves
a handful of fresh parsley
water

II. 
2-3 tsp cayenne pepper
2 TB fresh ground black pepper
1 TB crumbled dry sage leaves, or chopped fresh
1 whole nutmeg, grated finely
3 TB salt
3 cups white cornmeal
3 cups yellow cornmeal


Put all of the ingredients from section I into a large stock pot, and cover them with water.  Bring to a boil, then reduce the heat and simmer until the meat has fallen off the bones, about 3 hours or so.

Cool the pot, and scoop out the solids.  Discard the bones, skin, cartilage, hunks of fat, and anything else you don't consider fit to eat.  (My friend Lidia snatched up every one of these discards except the bones, and cooked them with black beans that night.  It was "Muy delicioso!" she says!)  Discard the peppercorns, celery, etc.  When the meat is cool enough, chop it into small pieces.  (You can use a food processor - we didn't.)  You should have about 5 or more pounds of meat.  The more meat, the merrier.

Strain the broth - reserving it!  If you want to do this over a few days, chill the broth and meat overnight.  This makes it easier to skim off the fat.  Otherwise, use your best talents to skim off the fat - there will be plenty of it!  Measure the stock; you should have about 1 gallon to 5 or 6 quarts.  If you are a bit short, you can add some water to it to make up the difference.

In your smaller stockpot, put the stock, all of the spices and salt, and the meat, stir well, and bring it back to a boil.  In a separate stockpot, large enough to hold everything, put the cornmeal, whisking it to combine it well.  Turn the heat on under the pan to medium. Using your best ladle, ladle in a few measures of the hot stock and stir well.  Continue to add the stock, stirring well to incorporate it, until you have added all the stock.  Stir constantly until the mush has cooked and thickened, about 15-30 minutes.  When it is done, rinse each loaf pan in cold water before filling it.  Use your ladle to fill the pans, then press the scrapple into the corners of the pan and spread the top smooth with a spatula.  When all of the scrapple has been put into the pans, cover them with plastic wrap and put them in the refrigerator to chill.

To prepare it for serving: run a knife around the edges of the loaf pan, then use a butter knife or some such to help dislodge the loaf from the pan.  Carve slices about 1/2" thick.  Heat some bacon drippings, butter or oil in your iron skillet over medium high heat until hot, then add the slices of scrapple.  When the underside is truly golden brown and crusty (don't rush it!) flip it over and repeat.  Serve alone, or with maple syrup, apple sauce or eggs.

Cider-Cured Pork Chops

I'm getting a little nervous..... I cooked the last two packets of pork chops from my pig to make this recipe, and for Easter had the next to the last of the hams. I have a few more packages of smoked hocks and some of the sausages I've been making (and inhaling since I went on the Atkins diet) left, but it's looking a bit grim. Looks like it's time to sign up for another pig from my rancher friend, Mary Pettis Sarley (barngoddess@dishmail.net)

This recipe, from the now defunct 42 Degrees Restaurant in San Francisco, is a super fine way to cook a pork chop. Brining, which brings flavor deep inside the cells of the meat, also keeps the meat very moist during cooking. This cooking technique became very popular in the 1990's, as farmers bred pigs to be very lean in an effort to continue to keep pork popular as the anti-animal fat diet movement ramped up. Brining ensured that this super lean meat didn't turn into a piece of cardboard in the frying pan. Mind you, moistness and fat are not an issue in the super-delicious Duroc breed of pigs I buy from Mary. However, this recipe delivers such deep, rich flavor, a caramelized surface, and of course, guaranteed moistness, that it's worth using it even when you have top quality meat. Oh, baby. A fine way to honor the last offerings of a delicious pig!

42 DEGREES CIDER-CURED PORK CHOPS

Ingredients:
4 Center cut pork loin chops, 1 1/4-1/1/2 inches thick (bone in or not)
Olive Oil

Brine:
4 cups water
2 cups hard cider
1/2 cup salt
1/2 cup brown sugar
10 whole peppercorns
4 bay leaves
1/2 bunch fresh thyme
1 yellow onion, chopped
1 carrot, peeled and chopped
1 celery rib, chopped
1 apple, peeled and chopped

To make the brine: Combine all the brine ingredients in a large saucepan. Bring to a full boil over high heat, then remove from heat and let cool. When cool, refrigerate until cold. (If you put meat in warm brine, they will absorb too much of the salt.)

In a large glass or stainless steel container with a lid, add the pork chops to the cold brine. Weigh down the meat with a plate if necessary to keep the chops completely submerged. Refrigerate for at least one, up to two days.

To cook: Remove the chops from the brine and pat them dry, and allow them to come to room temperature. Discard the brine. Heat 2 heavy skillets (preferably cast iron) over moderately high heat. Add just enough oil to coat the bottom of the skillets. When the skillets are hot, add the chops and reduce heat to moderately low. Cook for about 10 minutes (meat should show caramelization), then turn and cook until the chops are no longer very pink at the bone, about 10 more minutes. Turn again as needed. If you have a digital meat thermometer, test the meat in several spots, especially near the bone. An internal temperature of 150 degrees Fahrenheit is ideal. Remove from heat, and enjoy!

To drink: delicious with the rest of the hard cider, a bottle of Prosecco, or a nice Riesling.

Side dishes: oven baked sweet potato fries would be mighty fine!

Szechuan Green Beans

I bought my carbon steel wok at a yard sale in San Francisco in 1986. I was living in the City and getting acquainted with all the glorious ethnic foods you could ever desire, and I was ready to try my hand at stir-fry - or so I thought. My various attempts at it were, well..... pathetic. What went so disastrously wrong? I had no idea how to approach wok cooking, so I acted like I was braising meat; I'd saute one ingredient, then keep adding the next until everything was in there. Wow, can you believe that treating it like a braised dish cooked quickly at high heat created a dish that was somewhere between a failed braise and a lousy stir-fry? The meat was gray, the broccoli was undercooked, the sauce was watery. Sigh. The wok went into deep storage for the next two decades, miraculously surviving several moves.

In the last two years I have started paying attention, reading recipes to understand the completely different structure of steps that a stir-fry requires. Then I dusted off that wok, and got brave. Now I get it; with wok cooking, unlike most Western-style cooking, you cook the ingredients in a certain order, removing them from the pan when they are done, cooking the next item, and then combining them all at the end. That's how you deal with the meat, which needs to be fried, and the broccoli, which needs to be steamed.

This recipe for Szechuan-style green beans comes from the same "best of the best of the best" America's Test Kitchen magazine that the light cheesecake recipe came from. This recipe is outstanding; I've made it three times in two weeks, experimenting with meats (leftover chicken, ground turkey, ground lamb) because the recipe called for 1/4 pound of ground pork, and the ground pork in my freezer is all in 5 pound packages, ready for the next sausage party.

As usual, I have adapted the recipe. As written, the recipe assumes we do not have access to the proper ingredients or tools. I think you should have the option of using either the ingredients commonly available in remote locations OR the traditional Chinese ingredients available to people who live in the city. Then, there is the question of tools. They tell us to use a non-stick skillet at high heat. Good lord. When I read a couple of years ago that the coating on non-stick skillets breaks down into a toxic gas at high temperatures and has actually killed people's pets, I got rid of all my non-stick skillets and started using my cast iron skillets almost exclusively. Think about it; where does that coating go when it gets scraped off while you're using your spatula to serve the eggs? That's right - into your eggs. Oh, I know we're supposed to use a plastic spatula to prevent the scraping. Do you know what happens to plastic at high heat? I know, I know, I'm an insane Berkeley woman, but I still recommend you get rid of the nonstick skillet; cast iron is so great! At the very least, DON'T use it at high temperature. I will now descend from the foodie soapbox and give you the recipe. You can substitute ground lamb or turkey, or leftover chicken for the pork, and faithful reader Demaris tells me she's been making it with tofu for her vegetarian friends for years - it is all dee-lish. Serve it with rice for a one-dish meal.


Szechuan Green Beans

adapted from America's Test Kitchen Best-Ever Recipes

2 TB soy sauce
2 TB water
1 TB Chinese rice wine or dry sherry
1 tsp sugar
1/2 tsp corn or tapioca starch
1/4 tsp ground white pepper
1/4 tsp red pepper flakes
1/4 tsp dry mustard

2 TB high smoke point oil - peanut, sunflower, or safflower
1 lb green beans - (Chinese long beans if you can get them) stem ends trimmed and cut into 2" lengths

1/4 pound ground pork (or lamb or turkey)
3 garlic cloves, minced
1 TB minced fresh ginger

3 scallions (green onions) sliced thin
1 tsp toasted sesame oil

1. In a small bowl, stir together the soy sauce, water, sherry, sugar, starch, white and red peppers, and mustard until the sugar and the lumps dissolve.

2. Heat the oil in a wok or large cast iron skillet over high heat until just smoking. Add the beans and cook, stirring frequently, until crisp tender and the skins are shriveled and blackened in spots, 5-8 minutes. (Reduce heat to medium-high if the beans darken too quickly.) Transfer the beans to a large plate or bowl.

3. Reduce the heat to medium-high and add the pork to the now-empty wok or skillet. Cook, breaking the meat into small pieces, until no pink remains, about 2 minutes. Add the garlic and ginger; cook, stirring constantly, until fragrant, about 30 seconds. Stir the sauce to recombine and add the sauce, along with the beans, to the pan. Toss and cook until the sauce is thickened, 5-10 seconds. Remove the pan from the heat and stir in the scallions and sesame oil. Serve immediately.

Notes: For a heartier use as a main course, increase the meat to 1/2 a pound, and add another 1 TB of soy sauce, 1 TB of water, 1 1/2 tsp rice wine/sherry, and another 1/2 tsp tapioca or corn starch.

Whole-Grain Pie Crust

True Confession: I used to buy pre-made pie crust. 'Struth! And I'm not talking about artisanal, butter pie crust from Berkeley Bowl, my friends. Oooh no. I'm talking about Pet-Ritz, Mrs. Smith, and brands you've never heard of from the freezer case at Grocery Outlet, or "Gross Out" as my dear friend Nina calls it. You know, trans-fat-city, tin foil pans. You feel me?

Yes, I was not always "Foodier Than Thou." Becoming a "foodie" (and I can just hear that special note in my mother's voice when she uses that word to describe someone - something that lets you know that their character, morals and judgment are in doubt.) Where was I? Oh, yes. Becoming a "foodie" developed gradually in me. I think my mother's Yankee-by-way-of-Germany concept is that "foodies" are obsessed with expensive, wasteful ingredients, to the detriment of their immortal souls. Which is a pretty interesting take from a woman who, with her husband, raised chickens, milk goats, honey bees and organic vegetables and made her own yoghurt and cheese from the proceeds for decades. Because for me, what she and my Dad did are at the heart of being a "foodie." Choosing organic produce, sustainably raised meats and eggs, buying food directly from the farmer; to me these are moral choices. And, of course, they taste waaaay better than that other stuff, and they're waaaay better for you than that other stuff.

Ah, but what you all really want to talk about is pie crust, yes? So, I had the mistaken impression that 1) pie crust was too much work, 2) the other stuff was perfectly fine, and 3) my pie crust efforts would be lousy. This, despite the memories of the best pie crust ever - my sister Cynta's home-made delectable strawberry rhubarb pie in the tastiest crust in the world. So, I'm willing to admit I was wrong. Isn't that big of me? That's right: wrong, wrong, wrong. It's not hard, or time-consuming, and that divine taste and flaky texture just can't be had any other way.

Now, what I gather from all of the pie crust lore I've been collecting, is that pie crust makers are hard-core in their loyalty to certain fats. There's the butter camp; butter makes a flaky crust, where the layers separate out like mica shards. And of course, butter has that, for lack of a better descriptor, "buttery" taste. Then there are the shortening folks. Shortening also makes flakes; shortening proponents say they are better flakes than butter. Ahem. In a word, trans-fats. "Trans-fats" are created when liquid vegetable oil is forced to bond with extra hydrogen atoms, which transforms them into solid shortening. When they enter your body, the hydrogen atoms seek out the good fat and make it go bad. Yes, there are organic shortening alternatives (Spectrum makes one from Palm Oil, which is naturally solid at room temperature) but my experiments with it have yielded somewhat tough results. Shortening is therefore easily knocked off the list, in my opinion. And of course, there is the lard camp; lard makes a tender, yielding crust, with a savory back-note. This can be a lovely contrast with say, apple pie, or as a complement to a quiche. Which to choose, which to choose; butter or lard? Ah, but then there is the happy compromise - half lard, half butter! Flakes + tender + both flavors = yum.

There are a few technical considerations when blending two fats; butter is much harder than lard; lard is very soft; it becomes almost liquid at room temperature. Both ingredients should be cold when you use them to keep gluten from forming. Gluten is the protein in wheat which bonds into chains when they are exposed to warmth + smooshing; these bonds are desirable in bread and pizza, but makes for a tough pie crust. To deal with this, here are two simple methods; either cut in the butter first, followed by the lard, (my idea) OR, follow the advice in James McNair's Pie Cookbook; soften both fats, blend them together, and then chill them before you use them.

This is adapted from James McNair's recipe; there are many, many fine recipes out there. I don't have a favorite so far; the important thing is to use the best ingredients and follow the basic guidelines.

Basic Pie Crust

Makes 1 double or 2 single crusts. (If you're making a single crust pie, you can make both, and freeze one for later!)

I. Standard Version

3 cups all-purpose, organic unbleached flour
1 tsp salt
2 tsp organic granulated sugar
1/2 cup cold, organic, unsalted butter, cut into small pieces
1/2 cup cold lard
1/2 cup or more ice water 
 OR
1/4 cup or more ice water
1/4 cup iced vodka

Follow universal steps below for all recipes.

II. Whole Grain, Low Carbohydrate Variations

1 1/2 cups Spelt Flour
1 1/2 cups whole wheat pastry flour

OR: 3 cups Spelt Flour,  OR:3 cups whole wheat pastry flour, OR any combination of the two!

1 tsp salt
2 tsp sugar or xylitol
1/2 cup cold, organic, unsalted butter, cut into small pieces
1/2 cup cold lard
1/2 cup ice water
OR
1/4 cup or more ice water
1/4 cup iced vodka


(If you are using a food processor, the fats should be in small pieces and frozen. However, made it both ways, I have to say doing it by hand produces a MUCH more pleasing texture.)


1. Measure the flour using the "spoon and sweep" method; use a spoon to fill the cup, then scrape off the excess with a knife. This ensures the right proportion of flour is measured. This technique comes from "The Bakers' Dozen Cookbook;" I use this method for all baking, but it's especially important for pie crust making.

2. In a medium sized bowl with a nice, smooth, flattish bottom, combine the flour, salt and sugar. Mix well with a fork or whisk.

3. Prepare your ice water by putting water and several ice cubes in a cup or bowl.

4. Add the small hunks of cold butter individually to the bowl of flour, and use your fork to toss them into the flour. Using a pastry cutter (some people use 2 knives or their hands; I like my pastry cutter just fine) cut the butter into the flour, occasionally scraping the gathered hunks of butter and dough off the blades of the cutter with the fork, and occasionally tossing the ingredients to keep them evenly distributed. Do this until the bits of butter are about pea-sized; don't overwork the dough, or it will form gluten bonds and get tough!

5. Now add the cold lard, adding spoonfuls and tossing them into the flour mixture with your fork or spoon. Cut the lard into the dough; it is much softer, and therefore easier and quicker to cut in than the cold butter! Follow the same instructions as for the butter, but now you want the final pieces to be more like coarse breadcrumbs.

6. One tablespoonful at a time, sprinkle in the ice water. After each addition, stir and toss the flour mixture with your fork, until it makes a shaggy dough that is beginning to stick heavily to the fork. If you are using the vodka, add the ice water first, then the vodka to finish. You may use a little less than the whole amount of liquid, or a little more. Squeeze a little hunk together to see if it just barely holds. If not, add a little more liquid. If it's coming together nicely, lay two large pieces of waxed or parchment paper on your work surface, gather up the dough into a nice smooth ball with your hands, divide it into two even balls, and place on the paper. If it sticks to your hands a lot, you have added a little too much water. No biggie; just sprinkle a little extra flour on the paper and over the dough balls, and make a nice smooth ball. Using the paper, smoosh the balls into flat, smooth disks. Try not to handle the dough too much, either with your tools or your hands.

7. Wrap up the disks in the paper, then put them into a plastic bag and put them into the refrigerator. Let it "relax" in the refrigerator for at least 15 minutes. This loosens up the gluten bonds that have formed, and firms up the fats before you roll them. If you chill it for longer, you may need to let it warm up for a little while before you roll it; otherwise it will crack when you try to roll it - very frustrating!

NOTES FROM CHRISTINE: Flour Choices - Whole grains are full of wonderful nutrients and fiber, and are more evenly metabolized by those with metabolic/blood sugar issues. Any of these combinations are delicious; here are the considerations when choosing your flour. Why choose Spelt? Spelt is fine grained and light, with a lovely, tender texture. Some people with gluten issues can tolerate it better than regular wheat. Why Whole Wheat Pastry Flour? Whole wheat pastry flour is lighter than all purpose whole wheat flour, lower in gluten (the protein that makes bread get chewy) and makes a flakier crust. It's also easier to find than spelt. The blend gives you the best of all possible worlds. Water: the spelt flour absorbs less water than the whole wheat flour; be more sparing when you add the ice water.  Vodka gives you the moisture you need to hold the dough together, but it evaporates more readily than water, giving the pie crust a much more tender and delicious texture - well worth it - I really recommend this technique!

Spelt is available in natural food stores and in well-stocked grocery stores.


Next up: Pie!

The Whole Hog: Easter Ham in Coca Cola

Easter certainly seemed like an excellent excuse for selecting a big ol' ham from our collection of pig parts. I picked out the biggest one I had - 13 pounds - and commenced to invite a lot of friends over for dinner. Then came decision-making time; how should I cook it? When you have a good ham from a good pig, you really can't go wrong simply baking it and serving it with the classic sauce my Daddy always made (mustard, mayonnaise, and brown sugar.) But my friend and fellow pig-shareholder Ondine had told me about how she had baked one of her hams in Coca Cola, resulting in rich and flavorful meat, and that the cooking liquids had then made a delicious black bean soup base - ooh, sign me up! She had been meaning to write it up for the blog, but time had gotten away from her; she referred me to the Nigella Lawson recipe she had used.



Crazy as it sounds to us northerners, cooking meat in "Co' Cola" is a classic southern technique, and I had recently made and enjoyed a phenomenal Mexican-style beef stew with (of course) Mexican coke, which is made with cane sugar. (American coke is made with corn syrup. Feh.) Also, at my last job I worked with a number of Filipina women who had waxed poetic about whole pig roasted in Seven Up, so my mind was open to the idea. So, after doing a little research, I decided to go for it. There are many different recipes out there, most of which call for glazing the ham, then baking and basting it with the Coke. British celebrity chef Nigella Lawson starts her version of the recipe by confessing that she first made it as a joke, expecting it to be disgusting, but now has a hard time making it any other way. Her version calls for braising the ham in Coke on the stove top for some hours, then glazing it and baking it. She does, however, say that she often skips the glazing and baking part, opting to just cook it in the Coke for longer.

After much deliberation, I braised the ham in Coke in my large enameled cast iron Dutch oven, then glazed and baked it. Nigella Lawson's recipe calls for glazing it with a tablespoon of "black treacle" - blackstrap molasses - topped with Demerara sugar and powdered English mustard. I used my own variation of Daddy's classic ham sauce; I mixed brown sugar with both dried and prepared mustard, smeared it all over the top, and baked it in a foil-lined roasting pan. It was quite delicious, a huge hit with the guests, and frankly, I wouldn't know it was cooked in Coke if I hadn't been told. Ham is already a sweet meat which is complemented by additional sweet glazes and sauces; the Coke is actually pretty mild compared to the classic application of pineapple rings in heavy syrup and super-sweet glazes.

As for that definition of eternity as "two people and a ham" - so far we have absolutely no data that corroborates this famous quote. Although I wondered if I might come to feel that way as I packed away the somewhat substantial leftovers on Sunday night, on this the following Saturday, we are now down to a (generously upholstered) ham-bone. On Monday night, I made a pasta dish with cream, shallots, white wine, Parmiggiano Reggiano, and ham. Johanna (our nine year-old) happily ate grilled ham and cheese sandwiches every night this week for dinner, while I ate it fried (Joel was at a conference in San Francisco all week, eating at restaurants with colleagues.) The fried surfaces of the ham caramelized beautifully and intensified the delicious flavors. And last night, as we polished off the last of the fried rice with ham (recipe soon to follow) I had made the night before, Johanna was heard to wistfully remark that she wished that "eternity was two people and a ham. Then we would never run out of it."

Today, as I write, the ham bone is nestled in among the black beans as they cook in the leftover braising liquids; it looks and smells divine. (Recipe also soon to follow.) Ah, ham; gone again so soon.


Ham in Coca Cola
A Southern Classic: Adapted from Nigella Lawson's Version

For the Ham:
1 Fully Cooked Ham (Please get one from a sustainably raised pig)
2 Liters of Coca Cola made with Cane Sugar (available at Latin specialty stores)
1 large onion, peeled and halved

For the Glaze:
1 heaping TB molasses
2 tsp dried mustard powder
2 TB Brown or raw sugar

Or:
2 TB Brown sugar
1 TB Dijon mustard
1 tsp dried mustard powder

Put your ham, fat side down, with the cut pieces of onion, in a Dutch oven large enough to hold it and the cola. Add the cola to the pan, bring it to a boil over high heat, then reduce the heat to the simmer and cook it, partially covered. Allow 1/2 hour per pound of meat.

While it cooks, cover your roasting pan with foil to make sure that you can clean it later!

Preheat your oven to 500 degrees at the appropriate time, (close to when the ham is done braising) and when the meat is braised, turn off the burner. Stick your carving fork in to remove the ham from the liquid (be sure to save the liquid for the soup yet to come!) - and put the ham in your roasting pan, fat-side up. If you have excessive fat on the ham, carefully remove it from the ham using your carving or chef's knife; it will come off easily, as everything will be quite soft now.

If you are using the molasses-based glaze, smear the top with the molasses, then combine the sugar and mustard powder and pat the dry mixture onto the molasses until it sticks.

If you are using the prepared mustard glaze, combine all three ingredients and spread them on the top surface.

Pop the ham into the hot oven and bake until the glaze is bubbly and lovely, about 10 minutes.

An excellent accompaniment is, of course, corn muffins (see my earlier post) or biscuits.

Wine match: A Riesling or Gewurtztraminer, Prosecco or other fruity/sweet white wine blend is an excellent match. We enjoyed ours with an Alsatian white.

Bon Appetit!

The Whole Hog: Time for Meatballs!

Well. If you read my last entry (Sausage-making party with Ondine) then you know the happy news that I now have 10 pounds of freshly made sausage in my freezer; this breaks down to approximately 3.5 pounds of spicy Italian, 3.5 pounds of sweet Italian, and 3 pounds of Mexican-style chorizo. That doesn't sound quite as nuts as it did when you heard I was making 15 pounds of sausage with Ondine, now does it? Somehow, when you divide it up at the end, you look at it and say, "Well now, that's really not very much sausage at all. We should have made more!" and then you catch yourself and say "Get a grip, girl."

So now that we have all that great product in the freezer, it's time to do something with it. In addition to the 3/4 of a pig in the freezer, I also have 1/8 of a grass-fed, organic cow I bought from Mike and Sally Gale of Chileno Beef (http://www.chilenobnb.com/beef.html) in there. Let me be frank; since reading about how industrial beef cows are processed in Fast Food Nation I will never buy pre-packaged, commercially ground hamburger again. And after I read about how meat animals are raised commercially in Michael Pollan's Omnivore's Dilemma I have tried very, very hard to buy all of my meat directly from ranchers. So it's a darned nice thing to reach in my freezer and take out a pound of hamburger that I know is safe, sustainable, healthy, and delicious, take off the compostable paper (!) wrapper, and get to work. Today's Menu: meatballs.

I like meatballs. I really do. Once again, however, here is a tasty food item where you look at most of the recipes and say to yourself "Self, that looks like waaay too much work. Next!" You know, grate, soak, mix, shape, THEN brown, THEN braise. So, when I found this recipe a few years ago, I was sold. It skips the browning step, instead braising them in some good quality canned tomatoes, but the flavor - the flavor does not taste like you skipped any steps at all. The sausage adds a delicious complexity to the flavor and texture, the meat juices and Pecorino Romano cheese mix with the tomatoes as they bake and flavor the sauce, the sauce thickens and becomes rich as they bake. It takes very little time to mix these simple ingredients together, and then you pop them in the oven, where they tend to themselves while you make the rest of the meal, stress-free. It's a winner!


Old-Fashioned Meatballs in Red Sauce
adapted from The Simpler the Better by Leslie Revsin with Rick Rodgers
(reprinted in Gourmet Magazine, October 2005)

Serve with a nice batch of soft polenta, over pasta, or on some nice crusty bread - do I need to say more?

For The Meatballs:
1 pound grass-fed ground beef (15% fat)
1/2 pound sweet or hot Italian sausage
1/3 cup plain dry bread crumbs, combined with 1/3 cup water
2 eggs, lightly beaten
3 large garlic cloves, minced
1/4 tsp salt
1/4 tsp freshly grated black pepper
1/4 cup freshly grated Pecorino Romano cheese

For The Sauce:
1 large can (28 oz) crushed tomatoes (I highly recommend Muir Glen brand)
1/4 tsp salt
Plenty of freshly ground pepper to taste

Garnish:
1/4 cup grated Pecorino Romano

Remove meats from the refrigerator 30 to 60 minutes before cooking, if possible. Remove the sausages from their casings. (Ha! Remember what I said in the sausage recipe? Now you can congratulate yourself on NOT putting them in casings!)

Place bread crumbs in a large bowl and stir in 1/3 cup water. When absorbed, blend together with eggs, garlic, 1/4 cup grated Pecorino Romano, 1/4 tsp salt, and 1/4 tsp fresh ground pepper.

Pre-heat the oven to 425 F. Add the meats to the bread crumb/egg mixture and combine well with your hands. Form into 16 to 18 even-sized balls. As you make them, lay them in a single layer in the bottom of an 9x13" heavy baking dish, separating them by about 1 inch.

Mix the salt and plenty of freshly ground black pepper into the tomatoes, and pour them over and around the meatballs. Then sprinkle the tops with the grated cheese garnish. Bake in the center of the oven until just cooked through, around 20 minutes.

A note on the cheese: Freshly grated cheese really is the tastiest, but pre-grated is alright in a pinch. Please note that if you use a micro-plane (a kitchen must-have!) the volume is greater than with a "regular" grater, so don't be skimpy - there's nothing wrong with a little extra cheese!