Getting Sloshed on a Saturday Night

Summer brings an onslaught of grilling recipes, and I've already discussed our lack of a grill here at Chez Boeckman-Walker. Most of these grilling recipes I pass over, not even giving them the time of day, but when I'm searching for a recipe to use a particular ingredient I have on hand, I'll glance over the ingredients so I can decide if the flavor of the final product would hit the spot and if I can adapt the recipe for more conventional indoor cooking.

So was the case a few days ago. I'd determined we'd have more of the mahimahi from the giant piece I bought back in April, but I wanted to do something different with it instead of the usual ginger-lime bake. A search of MyRecipes.com yielded what I thought had tasty potential, if I could manage to convert it from an outdoor grilling recipe to an indoor...something recipe.

Grilled MahiMahi Skewers With Pineapple-Mandarin Sauce1/2 C chopped onion
1/3 C honey
1/2 C dry red wine
2 T balsamic vinegar
2 T pineapple juice
1 T low-sodium soy sauce
1 T mirin or slightly sweet white wine (such as Riesling)
2 C diced fresh pineapple
1 1/2 lb. mahimahi steaks, cut into 24 1" pieces
24 1" fresh pineapple cubes
24 1" green bell pepper pieces
1 T chopped fresh OR 1 t dried rubbed sage
1/4 t salt
1/4 t black pepper
Chopped fresh chives (optional)

1. Combine the onions and honey in a medium nonstick skillet, place over medium heat and cook 12 min. or until golden brown, stirring occasionally.
   
2. Add red wine, balsamic vinegar, pineapple juice, soy sauce and mirin, then cook 10 min.
   
3. Stir in diced pineapple, cook 5 min., then keep warm.
   
4. Prepare the grill.
   
5. Thread three mahimahi pieces, three pineapple cubes and three bell pepper pieces alternately onto each of eight 12" skewers.
   
6. Sprinkle the kebabs with sage, salt and black pepper.
   
7. Place the kebabs on a grill rack coated with cooking spray and grill 15 min. or until fish is done, turning every 5 min.
   
8. Serve with pineapple sauce and sprinkle with chives, if desired.

Yield: 4 servings (serving size: two kebabs and 1/2 C pineapple sauce)

Nutritional Info
Calories: 392
Fat: 7.8 g
Sat fat: 2 g
Protein: 35.1 g
Carbs: 47.7 g
Fiber: 2.7 g
Cholesterol: 66 mg
Sodium: 427 mg

The Faudie's Futzings
I know, Gentle Reader, you're asking right now, "So how did you convert this recipe for indoor cooking?" Well, here's how: I wound up making a stir fry. I didn't set out to make a stir fry, and I've never made a fish stir fry before, although I've encountered my fair share of recipes for them. I had originally decided I'd make the sauce in one pan and then saute the mahimahi, green peppers and pineapple in a little bit of olive oil.

But then as I was cooking the wine (I had to break down and show my face in a liquor store and ask the clerk for the cheapest bottle of dry red wine it had in stock because you can't tell these things by just looking at the label, dammit all) and the mirin (another special purchase, although I'm sure it'll get more use than the red wine) and balsamic vinegar (which put me in the mood for balsamic vinegar-glazed chicken and red peppers) and the soy sauce and the pineapple juice with the honeyed onions (thus making them drunk since mirin is sweeted sake), I realized how very similar this concoction (minus the drunken onions) was to stir-fry sauces I've made in the past. That's when inspiration struck: Why not drown my cubed fish in the drunken onion sauce to let it cook that way, then throw in the green pepper strips and pineapple chunks to lightly braise (don't know if that's the right culinary verb here)?

Speaking of those drunken onions, that pineapple-mandarin sauce is damn tasty, Gentle Reader. While the husband and I were waiting for the side dish (more on that in a moment), we were sopping up some of the sauce with some sweeter bread I'd bought on the discount rack at Wally World earlier in the week. I think we both could have dined on that alone.

The fish, in case you're wondering, Gentle Reader, absorbed a good amount of the savory sweetness of the sauce without losing its mild mahimahi flavor.

Drowning Fish in Drunken Onions--Somebody Call PETA

I was really pleasantly surprised the fish turned out as well as it did, and stewing it in the drunken onions was far easier and less messy than if I'd sauted it in its own pan. Perhaps if I were a more skilled saute chef, I could cook the fish without a messy pan that requires lots of scrubbing and without a lingering odor of fish in the kitchen. But I'm not and doubt I ever will be. Oh well.

Here are some other futzings:

• I don't have any honey, so I used agave nectar instead. I wondered as I was chowing down if using honey might have given the onions--and the completed dish--a slightly sweeter flavor since I find that agave and honey do have noticeably different sweetness profiles. Guess I'll just have to make the dish with honey to find out.
  
• I combined the dried sage, salt and pepper in a small bowl then sprinkled it over the bowl of cubed mahimahi shortly before adding it to the drunken onions.
  
• I just used a can of chunk pineapple, not 2 cups of diced pineapple and 24 cubes of the stuff. The pineapple juice came from the same can (and I drank what was left after the required 2 tablespoons).

Combined with the tender peppers and pineapple, the completed dish was, in my opinion, very successful.

Colorful, isn't it!

I'm thinking of making the drunken onion sauce--er, the pineapple-Mandarin sauce--again but with chicken. I'd imagine that's another tasty combo.

Quasi-Chinese for the Main, Quasi-Caribbean on the Side
Back when I was having my jerk cravings, I'd bookmarked a recipe for an interesting rice dish. Maybe it even qualifies as a pilaf or pulao in their traditional sense, but it's not like the pilafs and pulaos I've found in Indian and Persian cooking resources. You can decide for yourself, Gentle Reader.

Jamaican Rice1 T vegetable oil
1/2 large onion, sliced
1/2 red apple, cored and sliced
1 pinch curry powder
1 C water
2/3 C brown rice
1 t dark molasses or treacle
1 small banana, sliced
1 T unsweetened flaked coconut

1. Heat the oil in a saucepan over medium heat.
   
2. Add the onion and red apple and cook until the onion is transparent.
   
3. Season with curry powder, thend stir in the water.
   
4. Add the rice and molasses, cover and cook over low heat until the rice is tender and all the water has been absorbed (about 30 min.).
   
5. Stir in the banana, then sprinkle the coconut on top.
   
6. Heat through for a moment over low heat before serving.

Yield: 2 servings

Nutritional Info
Calories: 400
Fat: 10.9 g
Protein: 6 g
Carbs: 71.9 g
Fiber: 5.6g
Sodium: 10 mg

The Faudie's Futzings
I didn't mess with this one much, and maybe I should have:

• I used maybe a teaspoon of olive oil instead of a tablespoon (yikes!) of veggie oil.
  
• I used regular 'ol unsulphured molasses--Grandma's, in fact (not as in Graga's, coming from the kitchen of my maternal grandmother, bless her narcissistic, sedentary soul) because that's all I have.
  
• I didn't add in flaked coconut. Between the macaroons Mum made and the jerk chicken pasta-cum-curry I made recently, I've had my fill of coconut for the decade, thank you.

This side dish was a bit of a disaster. I knew the rice would need more than 30 minutes to cook, and it still wasn't ready after 45 minutes. Despite the grains being a bit...well, chewy would be the best way to describe the rice's need for a tad extra mastication, I stirred in the sliced banana and served it up.

Half-cooked mush in a pot. Yum.

Despite my failure to cook the rice thoroughly and the somewhat stomach-turning image above, the dish was pretty tasty, a little on the sweet side and a nice departure from the more earthy and occasionally savory rice flavors we're used to here at Chez Boeckman-Walker. (Trust me when I write that we do eat a lot of rice here at Chez Boeckman-Walker, and most of it isn't just plain Jane stuff either.) I don't think it was diminished by the lack of coconut because that mere teaspoon of molasses was adequate sweetener.

Perhaps it wasn't intended to be as sweet as my dish turned out. Perhaps a dark molasses (which I admit I don't know what precisely that is--perhaps blackstrap molasses?) would have given it a different flavor. As I made it, the sweetness of the molasses and fruit slices completely overwhelmed the curry powder. In fact, if I were to make this dish again--which is highly improbable--I might use jerk seasoning instead of curry powder. After all, this is Jamaican rice and jerk seasoning strikes me as somehow more apropos.

Considering the sad state of the side dish, I found myself wishing I'd just whipped up a batch of plain 'ol Jasmine rice to go with the fish, especially since it's sweeter sauce was not of the same sweet flavor profile as the Jamaican rice. Ah well. Live and learn.

March (Mango) Madness

The mangoes are back! The mangoes are back! The mangoes are back!

That's right, Gentle Reader--alfonso mangoes are back on the produce shelves at HEB, and I couldn't be happier. Of course, I still have (well, now it's had) a 32-ounce yogurt carton of peeled mango pieces in my freezer. Nevertheless, seeing those yellow kidney-esque fruits makes me happy and reminds me that it was about a year ago that I started on my culinary misadventures.

I'm not the only one with March mango madness. The March issue of Cooking Light shines a spotlight on the latest food trends, but no, mangoes are not one of them. Instead, it's agave nectar. Included in the agave nectar spotlight is a recipe for mango-agave sorbet. Since HEB has its alfonso mangoes two for a buck and since I had some frozen pieces just waiting to be used, how could I not make this recipe--even though my luck with homemade ice cream is downright miserable?

Mango-Agave Sorbet4 C cubed peeled ripe mango (about 3 pounds)
1/2 C fresh orange juice (about 3 oranges)
1/3 C fresh lime juice (about 3 limes)
1/3 C tequila
3/4 C light agave nectar
1/3 C water

Combine the cubed mango, OJ, lime juice and tequila in a food processor, then process until smooth.

1. Pour the mixture into a bowl, and stir in the agave nectar and water.
   
2. Cover and chill the mixture for 2 hours.
   
3. Pour the mixture into the freezer can of an ice cream freezer, and freeze it according to the manufacturer's instructions.
   
4. Spoon the sorbet into a freezer-safe container, cover and freeze 8 hours or until firm.

Nutritional Info
Calories: 233
Fat: 0.5 g
Sat fat: 0.1 g
Protein: 1 g
Carbs: 55.4 g
Fiber: 3.1 g
Sodium: 4 mg

The Faudie's Futzings
The only thing I futzed with was the blending method. I have a small food processor. It holds 3 cups, which isn't enough room for the ingredients to be blended together. So I whipped out the blender, which worked like a charm and gave me a convenient container in which to chill the mixture for two hours.

Speaking of chilling, I did that in the 'fridge--in the very back. Where stuff happily freezes. However, the mixture didn't freeze there, and I wasn't sure how cold it needed to get to help it set right in the ice cream maker. The recipe, methinks, should specific where to chill the concoction, in a 'fridge, the 'fridge's freezer or in a deep freezer, if one has such a convenience available.

I'll also say this: My Cuisinart ice cream maker is, I think, a piece of junk. I've never gotten it to churn up something that turns out remotely close to ice cream. And I realize it's not supposed to--it's just supposed to churn up the ingredients, whip in the necessary air so that after you freeze what you churned, you have the appropriate consistency. Is the churning necessary, I wonder. I guess I'll have to do some experimenting and find out.

The finished product was delicious!

Of course, the stuff that I chilled for two hours was delicious without any churning or freezing, tasting sort of like a tequila-spiked mango lassi. (Mmmm...mango lassi....) I served it two ways: (1) with two-bite brownies I scored on sale at HEB (which I find to be tastier than the ones Whole Paycheck touts) and (2) with some red raspberry sherbet from Braum's, which added a nice counterpoint to the mango.

What was interesting about the slowly freezing, churned mixture was that depending on whether ya spooned up some of the more-frozen stuff or some of the more-liquid stuff, you got a different predominant flavor. The more-frozen stuff wasn't as sweet, the agave nectar wasn't as pronounced as it was in the more-liquid stuff. I suspect the cheap tequila I used might have influenced the varied flavor. I suppose I'll have to dig a little deeper into my pockets and fork over a bit more for some better tequila should I make this recipe again.

Oh, one last note: I have no idea if the agave nectar I get from the bulk foods playland at Whole Paycheck is light or whatever. I'm sure its grade is on the label of the big spigot, but I never pay attention. Since you have to write your own labels for your bulk food purchases (unlike the fun machines at Central Markup), I never take the time to write down what I think of as nonessential info.

The Diagram Explains It All

Okay, the diagram isn't precise. The recipe I made last night combines pork and agave nectar, not tequila. But I figured a bottle of tequila (or a box from a bottle of tequila) makes for a more visually compelling element. Am I right, Gentle Reader?

Of course, you might be wondering too, Gentle Reader, just what the hell I made exactly from a frog-loving pig--or if I got a frog-loving pig drunk and had a good time. Perish the thought!

Well, wonder no more. Here's the recipe, which appears in this month's Cooking Light:

Pork Tenderloin With Salty-Sweet Glaze1/4 C amber agave nectar
1 T chopped green onions
1 T reduced-sodium tamari
2 t grated peeled fresh ginger
1 garlic clove, minced
1 1/2 T seasoned rice vinegar, divided
1 1-pound pork tenderloin, trimmed
1 t water
Dash of ground red pepper

1. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.
   
2. Combine the agave, green onions, tamari, ginger and garlic in a small saucepan, then stir in 1 tablespoon of rice vinegar.
   
3. Bring the mixture to a boil over medium-high heat. Cook until the sauce is reduced to 1/4 cup (about 3 min). Reserve 2 tablespoons of the sauce, setting it aside. Keep the remaining 2 tablespoons mixture warm in the pan.
   
4. Coat a large ovenproof nonstick skillet with cooking spray and heat it over medium-high heat.
   
5. Add the pork to the skillet, and cook it 5 min., browning on all sides.
   
6. Bake the browned pork for 10 min., then brush it with the reserved 2 tablespoons of sauce. Bake the pork an additional 5 min. or until a thermometer registers 155 degrees (slightly pink). Let the pork then stand for 5 min.
   
7. Add the remaining 1 1/2 teaspoons of vinegar along with 1 teaspoon of water and red pepper to the remaining sauce in the saucepan.
   
8. Cut the pork crosswise into 1/2-inch slices, then drizzle the glaze over the pork.

Yield: 4 servings (serving size: 3 ounces of pork and about 2 teaspoons of glaze)

Nutritional Info
Calories: 208
Fat: 3.9 g
Sat fat: 1.3 g
Protein: 23.9 g
Carbs: 17.9 g
Fiber: 0.1g
Cholesterol: 74 mg
Sodium: 344 mg

The Faudie's Futzings
Oh my, where do I start with this one? Well, the beginning's always a good place!

• I substituted five pork chops for the tenderloin. Since this recipe is only my second time with pork and since I already had chops in the freezer, I wasn't about to shell out money for a pork product I had no experience with.
  That said, I wasn't sure if the direction for baking the pork tenderloin applied to the chops, so I kind of followed them. I baked the chops for 5 minutes then checked the internal temperature because I was concerned the rather thin chops might dry out if baked for too long. The thermometer peaked around 125 degrees, so back into the oven they went for another 5 minutes. After that, they did hit that magic number.
  
• My sauce didn't reduce to a quarter of a cup. My sauces never reduce. Oh well. That just meant more sauce for glazing the chops during and after baking!
  
• I substituted low-sodium soy sauce for the reduced-sodium tamari, which is perfectly acceptable per Cooking Light. Plus I checked out the sodium numbers on some reduced-sodium tamari products while I was at Whole Paycheck, and I guess my idea of reduced sodium is a far cry from manufacturers' idea of reduced sodium. The lowest reduced-sodium tamari product had a mere 700 mg of sodium per serving--only 700 mg!
  
• I'm not sure what the recipe's writers meant by seasoned rice vinegar. I guess I could have investigated, but I was lazy and just whipped out my bottle of regular rice wine vinegar. Since I'm not aware that I've ever had seasoned rice vinegar, I have no idea if the substitution impacted the flavor of the sauce.

I have to admit too that I didn't actually eat this dish. I'd stuffed myself stupid a few hours beforehand because, dammit, I find myself hungry for a larger meal around 3:30 or 4 p.m. these days. But I did have a lick or two of the sauce from the spoon, and it was damn tasty!

By the way, if you're an agave nectar lover like me and would like to use it more frequently as a sugar substitute because of it's wonderful low-glycemic-index qualities, here's a tip from the author of Baking With Agave Nectar that I found in last month's issue of Gourmet:

...you can substitute three-quarters of a cup of nectar for every cup of sugar called for in a recipe, lower [the] oven temperature by 25 degrees and reduce other liquid ingredients (oil, water) by a third to avoid shapeless mishaps.

You can read the entire piece on agave nectar from Gourmet's February issue online.

By the way, keep your fingers crossed for me: I might try out the mango-agave sorbet recipe that appears in the March Cooking Light. The alphonso mangos are back, baby!