You Put the Lime in the Coconut

The husband, like me, got booted from selling plasma temporarily thanks to a low protein level. To improve his chances of passing his second SPE test, I gave him leave to take over my kitchen and befoul it with beef, in all its red meat, protein-packed glory.

--The Faudie

Angela found a recipe for crunchy coconut and lime burgers on AllRecipes.com a few months ago, and we finally got around to trying it out. Why now, you ask? Maybe a tropical-themed recipe was what we needed on an overcast and rainy day. Or maybe I'll jump at any excuse to find video of Kermit the Frog singing that "Coconut" song on YouTube. Which led, of course, to either the me or the boy endlessly singing "You put the lime in the coconut...you put the lime in the coconut...you put the lime in the coconut....," for the rest of the day. We're sure the song has other lyrics, but they aren't as much fun to sing.

Where was I? Oh, yeah, the recipe:

Crunchy Coconut and Lime Burgers

1 lb. ground beef
1/2 C unsweetened shredded dried coconut
1/4 C chopped fresh cilantro
1 egg
2 T lime juice
2 T Worcestershire sauce
1 T cream of coconut
1 t soy sauce
1 1/2 t salt

1 C mayonnaise
2 t cream of coconut
1 T chopped fresh cilantro

1 T vegetable oil
1 C unsweetened shredded dried coconut
1/2 t salt
4 hamburger buns, split

1. Combine the beef, 1/2 cup coconut, cilantro, egg, lime juice, Worcestershire sauce, 1 tablespoon cream of coconut, soy sauce and 1 1/2 teaspoons salt in a bowl until well mixed. Form into four patties and set aside.

2. Stir together the mayonnaise with 2 teaspoons of cream of coconut and 1 tablespoon of cilantro and set aside.
   
3. Heat the vegetable oil in a skillet over medium heat.
   
4. Stir in 1 cup of coconut and 1/2 teaspoon salt, then cook and stir until the coconut has turned golden brown.
   
5. Drain the toasted coconut on a paper towel-lined plate and set aside.
6. Preheat an outdoor grill for medium-high heat, and lightly oil grate.
7. Cook the burgers on the preheated grill to your desired degree of doneness (about 4 min. per side for medium-well).
8. Spread both cut sides of the hamburger buns with the cilantro mayonnaise.
   
9. Place the cooked burgers on the bottom buns, sprinkle with the toasted coconut and serve.

Yield: Four burgers

Nutritional Info
Calories: 1,166
Total fat: 96.4 g
Cholesterol: 188 mg

The Husband's Futzings
There were more than a few:

• I omitted the cilantro from the patties, knowing the boy doesn't like it (though I did use cilantro in the spread, of which I only made a fourth of the recommended amount, figuring that would be more than enough for us).
  
• I also omitted the egg at Angela's suggestion, as we assumed the patties would hold together fine without a binding agent because I used ground sirloin that was 90% lean.
  
• I used only a third of the amount of salt called for, based on feedback left on the recipe at AllRecipes.com.
  
• I squeezed two limes for their juice, which was probably more than two tablespoons.
  
• I flat-out forgot to include the soy sauce.
  
• The coconut was unsweetened chips, not unsweetened flakes. And Angela toasted them in about a teaspoon of ghee.
  
• I used Miracle Whip Light instead of mayo.

The recipe came together without any major complications. Angela was correct in suggesting the egg could be left out with no ill effects; the patties held together fine with no egg.

In fact, the only issue we ran into concerned our table service. After Angela prepared the toasted coconut, the kiddo was charged with taking it to the dining table. On the way (while singing a repeating refrain of "You put the lime in the coconut," of course), he lost his grip on the bowl and half of the coconut ended up on the floor. Oh, well. We'd made more than we needed, really.

The finished burgers, I'm pleased to report, were very tasty. Unlike the blueberry beef burgers, which didn't seem to have much blueberry flavor, both the coconut and the lime were quite prominent. The cilantro mayonnaise, even when slathered on thickly, didn't overpower the flavor of the patties. So I'd say this recipe was a success, certainly.

Tiki-tastic cuisine

Will we make these burgers again any time soon? Only the Tiki gods can say for certain, but I'd imagine we're not likely to prepare this recipe often. Angela doesn't enjoy beef, and the boy dislikes coconut enough that he actually removed the coconut from his patty. So if and when we make crunchy coconut and lime burgers again, I suspect we'll be making them for me alone!

In a Picadillo

The other day on NPR, I heard that pork farmers have been hit particularly hard. Yeah, sure, there's the whole swine flu brouhaha, which has folks avoiding pork for fear they'll contract the flu by eating Miss Piggy and her family. But before that, pork prices had already taken a plunge, although I don't recall the piece going into much detail.

What this crisis in pig farming means for consumers who do not abstain from pork for various religious, health or idealogical reasons is that pork is fairly cheap. I can't tell you how many times HEB's had pork chops of various cuts on sale at very attractive prices. For that reason, I've got a handsome array of chops in the freezer, all waiting to be prepared in some delicious way.

More often than not, that delicious preparation has included some type of spice rub. Yeah, I know, Gentle Reader, it's not the most challenging or unique method, but it's quick and it makes for a flavorful meal. But as I contemplated how to make another round of chops this week, I was in a bit of a pickle. I wanted flavor but didn't want to do yet another rub.

I found my solution in Cuba.

Quick Pork Picadillo Sandwiches1 1/2 C chopped onion (about 1 medium)
1 t bottled minced garlic
1 lb. lean ground pork
1/2 C golden raisins
1 T chili powder
2 T red wine vinegar
1 t pumpkin pie spice
1/2 t salt
28 ounces canned diced tomatoes, drained
1/4 C sliced pimiento-stuffed green olives
8 1.5-oz. whole wheat hamburger buns

1. Cook the onion, garlic and pork in a large nonstick skillet over medium-high heat 5 min. or until browned, stirring to crumble.
   
2. Drain the mixture and return it to the pan.
   
3. Stir in the raisins, chili powder, vinegar, pumpkin pie spice, salt and tomatoes.
   
4. Reduce heat and cook 5 min., stirring occasionally.
   
5. Stir in the olives.
   
6. Spread about 2/3 cup of the picadillo mixture on the bottom half of each bun, then cover with the top half of the bun.

Yield: 8 sandwiches

Nutritional Info
Calories: 289
Fat: 9.2 g
Sat fat: 2.5 g
Protein: 15.8 g
Carbs: 37.7 g
Fiber: 3.3 g
Cholesterol: 43 mg
Sodium: 754 mg

The Faudie's Futzings
"But you had pork chops!" you wail, Gentle Reader?

Yup, I had pork chops--and no plans to make sandwiches. Here's my grand futzings:

1. Heat a small amount of canola oil in a large skillet.
2. Add the chops and brown on all sides, then set aside and keep warm.
   
3. Add the onions and begin to saute.
4. As the onions are growing tender, add the garlic.
   
5. When the garlic becomes fragrant (about 30 sec. or so), return the pork to the skillet.
6. Add the diced tomatoes, vinegar, spices and seasonings, stirring to combine and coat the chops.
   
7. Add the raisins and stir to combine well.
   
8. Let the concoction simmer until the pork is cooked through and, if you're a worry-wart, reaches the internal temperature (I think it's 180 degrees F) recommended by the USDA to kill the Trichinella that can give you trichinosis.
   
9. Serve the concoction on a thin bed of the rice of your choice.

And that's how I made this recipe using pork chops, Gentle Reader!

By the by, notice that I didn't use any green olives (blech!). When I substituted the ground red chili pepper for the regular chili pepper, I only used half a tablespoon since I find my stuff is about twice as heat-producing as regular chili powder.

I also had to make my own pumpkin pie spice because I had none and was too lazy to run to the big HEB at Parmer and I-35 to pick some up. Making your own isn't the world's most difficult challenge. I found guidelines on Cook's Thesaurus, took into account the spices I had on hand and fixed up my own batch. Badda-bing badda-boom.

The dish is very reminiscent of some Indian and Moroccan dishes I've made recently with its combination of heat (red chiles) and sweet (pumpkin pie spice) and acid (tomatoes). Serving it atop rice definitely gives it a curry-esque taste, texture and dining experience. While draining the diced toms is important if you're making sandwiches from this stuff, letting a little bit of liquid stay in the cans of (no-salt-added) diced toms is essential for a curry-like dish.

How Cuban is this dish? Haven't a bloody clue, Gentle Reader, as I've never eaten Cuban food. Plus the recipe came from Cooking Light, and I've said before that the publication's "ethnic" dishes are scurrilously toned down for bland American taste buds.

The Faudie Had a Little Lamb

We've had a first here at Chez Boeckman-Walker: I prepared lamb.

Yeah, yeah, I know, Gentle Reader. It's lamb. Lambs--and grown sheep to some degree--are pretty adorable creatures. They're adorable on the same level as Bambi and bunnies and calves.

I hate Bambi. But yeah, bunnies and calves are pretty cute. I've never eaten rabbit and never will, seeing as how I had pet rabbits as a kid. I've eaten veal--or some meat that The Olive Garden claimed was veal.

We came to have raw lamb--boneless leg of lamb, to be precise--because I finally got around to reading The Kitchen Detective by Christopher Kimball. It was among some of the first cooking books I bought way back, but it's lingered at the bottom of the stack of books beside my nightstand. After finally getting through The Ten-Cent Plague (great premise, not so great execution), I thought I'd give Kimball's tome a try. After all...

I Heart Christopher Kimball

But as much as I heart Christopher Kimball, I've skimmed past most of the "case files" in this book. It's contents are all too similar to the types of food America's Test Kitchen tends to focus on: traditional, all-'merican (i.e., bland, New England) dishes that are the meat and bones of kitchen bibles of yesterday and today. Even the dishes that come close to the "ethnic" category are toned down.

That said, there was something about his case file for Indian-style lamb stew that made me not only carefully read it but also consider trying it. I mean, I should have flipped past it after glancing at its introduction:

American beef stew is satisfying [speak for yourself], dependable [read: boring], and, unfortunately, a bit dull [Amen!]. With just a few flavoring additions, the use of lamb instead of beef, and a couple of changes in cooking method, I set out to transform an American classic into something special.

Yeah, I know, Gentle Reader: Kimball's not even starting with an authentic Indian recipe, so why should I give this thing the time of day?

Blame it on another book: Ziryab: Authentic Arab Cuisine by Farouk Mardam-Bey. It's one of those odd finds from the Half-Price Books in Round Rock, which is the antithesis of Austin: unabashedly white, older, far from worldly. Anywho, this fascinating book is chock full of tasty-sounding dishes that primarily use lamb as their protein source. Unfortunately, many of these recipes include ingredients that I've yet to track down, and given my skinflintedness, I'm not quite ready to use a bevy of new-to-me ingredients for a really exotic-to-me dish.

In other words, losing my lamb virginity (Ewww! But better than ewe!) with a recipe with ingredients I know well from a source I trust seemed like a very reasonable, logical thing to do.

Lamb Stew With Cinnamon, Cloves, Cumin and Coriander3 T vegetable oil
3.5-4 lb. boneless leg of lamb, trimmed of visible fat and silver skin and cut into 1" chunks
1 1.5" cinnamon stick
6 whole cloves
2 onions, cut into 1/2" dice
6 medium garlic cloves, pressed or pureed
1 2" piece of ginger, peeled and grated or pureed
1 T coriander seeds, ground
1 T cumin seeds, ground
2 C canned diced tomatoes, drained
2 1/2 C chicken stock (if using canned, choose a low-sodium brand)

1. Heat 2 tablespoons of the oil in a large, heavy-duty Dutch oven, deep skillet or saute pan over medium-high heat.
   
2. Liberally season the lamb cubes with salt and pepper.
   
3. When the oil just starts to smoke, brown the lamb in batches, then set it aside.
   
4. Lower the heat to medium-low, then add the remaining tablespoon of oil.
   
5. Add the cinnamon stick, cloves and onion, then saute 5-6 min. or until the onion is softened and just beginning to color.
   
6. Add the garlic, ginger, coriander, cumin and tomatoes, then cook, stirring almost constantly, until the liquid evaporates, the tomatoes soften, the oil separates and turns orange and the spices become very aromatic (5-6 min.).
   
7. Add the lamb and chicken stock and stir to combine with the other ingredients, scraping the browned bits from the bottom of the pan.
   
8. Raise the heat to medium-high, bring the liquid to a boil, then lower the heat to maintain a gentle simmer and cook for about 1 hour (this time may vary) or until the lamb is very tender and the liquid has thickened. (If the lamb needs more than an hour to soften, cover the pot to keep the sauce from reducing too much.)
   
9. Adjust the seasoning with salt and pepper, then serve immediately.

Yield: 6 servings of unknown size

Nutritional Info
Dear Mr. Kimball fails to provide a nutritional breakdown for the recipes in his book. For shame!

The Faudie's Futzings
Since this recipe's my first attempt to do anything with raw lamb, I wasn't about to screw with it too much. But I did futz just a wee bit:

• I used jarred minced garlic. So sue me.
  
• I was too lazy and my hip too sore (damn bursitis) after doing all the prep work with the spice seeds and the onions and the lamb (more on that in a moment) to peel and grate ginger. So I used two relatively heaping teaspoons of ginger paste.
  
• I'm sure this does matter to Mr. Kimball because his book includes a rather lengthy expose on the importance of making one's own quality chicken stock and chicken broth and the differences between the two, but I used low-sodium chicken broth, not chicken stock.

The boneless leg of lamb the husband and I acquired at our insane first trip to Sprouts, the new "farmers' market" supermarket that just opened in Round Rock. It's very similar to New Flower Market in far south Austin, which we visited a few weeks back, in that it appears to be a scaled-down version of Whole Paycheck for folks who bike because they can't afford a car and wear Birkenstocks they got used from Goodwill, not brand new from Whole Earth Provisions. (You know, the real crunchy-granola, hairy-armpitted hippie types, not the overfed, laser-hair-removaled, Prius-driving crunchy-granola hippie-wannabes.) That Sprouts and New Flower call themselves farmers' markets is rather galling because they're nothing at all like farmers' markets. Very little of the produce is local, and much of what we saw was imported. Most of the other products were not local either.

But, hey, we were there and had found high-gluten flour in the bulk foods area (which was hardly accessible because the lines for the checkouts extended so far back), so why not pick up that hunk of boneless leg of lamb? And that hunk of dark chocolate-covered honeycomb from the bulk bin? And those whole, raw almonds on sale?

Once I got the lamb out of the package and onto a cutting board, I set out to do as Mr. Kimball advised: trimming off visible fat and the silver skin before cubing it. Now, I'll admit that buying frozen, boneless, skinless chicken breasts has robbed me of much practice at trimming fat, and I found myself cursing my sloth for I dearly needed some experience and skill to get all the fat off this f'in piece of lamb's leg.
Good grief, the stuff was thick in places, and getting it off with my handy chef's knife was damn near impossible.

Towards the end of the trimming, I gave up, set my knife aside and just started tearing away the fat and translucent...stuff that I knew wasn't meat with my bare hands. It was oddly satisfying to do so, Gentle Reader. Gads, does that make me some sort of barbarian?

Hacked to Bits

The cooking 'o the stew was pretty basic and very similar to chicken curries I've made in the past. Once I got to the part at which I was just let the stuff simmer so the lamb could become tender, I started to worry. I'd not been entirely successful at removing all visible fat and...translucent stuff, so would that doom my stew? Would I end up with chewy, nasty-tasting chunks of meat? Would I miss the 5:30 p.m. dinnertime deadline I'd set for myself and find myself in a tizzy at 6 p.m. because even after 90 minutes of simmering, the meat was far from tender?

At 5:30, the basmati rice was ready, the stew's sauce had thickened some--but not a whole lot, which also had me worried--but poking at a few chunks of lamb didn't give me great confidence that the stuff was tender.

As I sent the boys to the table with their servings, I secreted a small chunk of meat out of Chive the Dutchie and into my mouth. The chunk practically melted in my mouth. Hazzah! Success!

Having declared this culinary misadventure a success, I have to wonder if I'd make it again. At its heart, the recipe isn't all that different from a few simple chicken curries I've made, but the lamb was, well, kind of expensive and required more prep than what I'm accustomed to doing. I can't imagine using chicken in lieu of lamb, nor can I imagine substituting beef since I prefer not to eat beef.

As for The Kitchen Detective, it's not a keeper. The bulk of the recipes are just not for me and the boys, and dear Mr. Kimball's tales of his own culinary misadventures in his pursuits to perfect the recipes do have some interesting insights into this thing called cooking. These insights you can parlay into other recipes, so the book is useful. However, unless you enjoy the types of dishes dear Mr. Kimball aims to perfect in the book, you probably wouldn't keep it on your bookshelf either.

Porkalicious

Pork noun (1) The fresh or salted flesh of swine when dressed for food (2) government funds, jobs, or favors distributed by politicians to gain political advantage
verb, slang To have sexual intercourse


Sometimes, Gentle Reader, I'm at a loss for witty, attention-grabbing ways to open posts. I mean, how many different ways can you introduce another story about a recipe gone wrong?

On our last Monday of freedom from the boy, pork chops were on the menu. Last Friday, I bought a family pack super-cheap at HEB for meals later on, but I had a recipeI really wanted to try and seeing as I how I was having chicken fatigue...well, Monday night here at Chez Boeckman-Walker was all about pork--the noun, not the verb (probably much to the husband's disappointment).

Honey and Spice-glazed Pork Chops1/4 C honey
2 T Dijon mustard
1/2 t ground ginger
1/4 t ground cinnamon
1/8 t ground cloves
4 4-oz. boneless center-cut loin pork chops, about 1/2" thick
1/2 t salt
1/4 t freshly ground black pepper

1. Combine the honey, mustard, ginger, cinnamon and cloves in a bowl.
2. Heat a large nonstick skillet coated with cooking spray over medium-high heat.
3. Sprinkle the pork with salt and pepper.
   
4. Cook the chops 2 min. on each side or until browned.
   
5. Reduce the heat to medium-low, then add the honey mixture.
   
6. Cook the chops 10 min. or until done, turning them once.

Yield: 4 servings (serving size: 1 pork chop and 1 T glaze)

Nutritional Info
Calories: 321
Fat: 12.1 g
Sat fat: 4.1 g
Protein: 34 g
Carbs: 18.7g
Fiber: 0.3 g
Cholesterol: 92 mg
Sodium: 557 mg

The Faudie's Futzings
Surprisingly, I didn't futz with this one at all. I will say this: I'm not sure if my chops were center-cut or not, and I'm not sure how it could possibly matter, except perhaps for nutritional considerations. I don't know enough about pork cuts to know for sure.

I also only thawed three chops since I'd bagged up the family pack into four or five three-chop portions for freezing. Because I only had three and perhaps because they might have been a bit smaller than 4 ounces each, I had a lot of glaze. Not that I'm complaining! It was absolutely delicious and would probably make a great glaze for chicken. Very flavorful and very easy to make--my favorite kind of "extra touch" to make yet another chicken breast a little different.

Of course, my taste buds might be too unworldly to really judge this dish. For many folks, some condiment combining honey and Dijon--or ersatz versions thereof--probably is well known to them, so this dish might be nothing spectacular for those people. I myself never have consumed a honey-mustard preparation: not as a dipping sauce for pressed-chicken-meat-particulates nuggets, not as a sauce atop a burger or a steak or as a dressing for a salad. Yes, I know, Gentle Reader, I really need to get out more and try new things. But I prefer to do that at home, where I'm in control of the ingredients and have a lot better idea of what's going in to the foods I eat.

To accompany the pork chops, I whipped up a batch of jerky couscous, sans the chicken (obviously).
Since I wouldn't be adding chicken that had been dosed with jerk seasoning, I added a tablespoon (might have been two) of it to the chicken broth before boiling and a tablespoon to the spicy vinegar-olive oil concoction ya pour over the cooked couscous. Delicious!

And now to close the post, here's another fun pork-related bit of pop culture. Enjoy!

Watch 1x06 This Little Piggy in Animation | View More Free Videos Online at Veoh.com
Wonder Pig Rocks My World!

Blueberry Barack Burgers

Unless you've been living under a rock, Gentle Reader, you probably learned, like the rest of the world, that Pesident Obama likes his burgers with Dijon mustard--and the world then turned upside in shock and horror (if right wingers are to be believed). I personally never cared for any sort of mustard on my burgers when I ate them: Give me ketchup, mayo, lettuce and maybe some reconstituted McD's onions. Hell, I was sort of a ketchup freak in my fast food-eating days. I liked it on my burgers, it was the only thing I ever put on my hot dogs (even the cheese-filled ones) and it was the only thing I ate with my chicken grizzle nuggets. I'm sure those preferences turns the stomachs of many people out there, just as Obama's preference for Dijon on his burger turns the stomachs and ridiculously roils the...whatever of certain idiots out there.

So what does Barack's preference for what can be spooned out of a Grey Poupon jar have to do with the ongoings of the kitchen here at Chez Boeckman-Walker? Well, Gentle Reader, read on and find out.

Blueberry-Beef Burgers2 slices whole-wheat country bread, crusts removed, torn into pieces
1/3 C fresh or frozen and thawed blueberries
1 T balsamic vinegar
2 t Dijon mustard
1 t Worcestershire sauce
2 garlic cloves, minced
1/4 t salt OR to taste
Freshly ground pepper, to taste
12 oz. 90%-lean ground beef

1. Place bread in a food processor, pulse into fine crumbs then transfer to a large bowl.
   
2. Puree blueberries, vinegar, mustard, Worcestershire, garlic, salt and pepper in food processor, then scrape mixture into the bowl with the breadcrumbs.
   
3. Add ground beef to crumbs and blueberry mixture and mix well with a potato masher.
   
4. Form four patties 1/2" thick and about 4" in diameter.
   
5. Preheat broiler or heat an indoor or outdoor grill to medium-high heat.
   
6. Cook patties until browned and no longer pink in the center, 4 to 5 min. per side, or until an instant-read thermometer inserted in the center registers 160 degrees F.

Nutritional Info
Calories: 200
Fat: 9 g
Sat fat: 4 g
Protein: 19 g
Carbs: 10 g
Cholesterol: 55 mg
Sodium: 352 mg

The Faudie's Futzings
I really didn't futz with this recipe, so instead, Gentle Reader, I'll finally get around to telling you the story of how I came to make these burgers and connect them with Barack Obama.

The husband forwarded a collection of blueberry-containing recipes collected by MSNBC or some other odd source, noting that he was salivating over this particular burger recipe. I gawked at it and thought it had potential but put it in an folder of recipe links I rarely enter because, hey, we're not beef eaters here at Chez Boeckman-Walker and, hey, blueberries are expensive.

And then I was at HEB two weeks ago and found most of its frozen foods were on sale, including frozen blueberries. Knowing how thrilled the husband would be if I made these burgers, I bit the bullet and bought some blueberries.

(Love that consonance!)

Then I bought a tube of 90/10 ground sirloin and figured making the burgers would be a good way to use up some whole wheat buns I had taking up space in the back of the 'fridge while, as I said a few lines back, giving the husband a thrill.

I considered using the last of my panko in lieu of making crumbs from whole wheat bread, but the bread we buy for the boy's sandwiches is a light whole wheat loaf with a nice nutritional profile. Plus I wasn't sure what kind of yield pulsing two slices would get me, therefore I wouldn't know if I had enough panko to keep the burgers moist while they cooked.

While I was putting the blueberry "sauce" ingredients into the food processor, I took a whiff and realized how potent the two teaspoons of Dijon were. In fact, I told the husband, who was wanting badly to assist me, that the blueberry flavor--if there was meant to be any--would be overwhelmed by the Dijon. "Barack would love these," I told him.

And I was right. There was no detectable blueberry flavor. The husband noted while noshing on his second burger--which he'd eaten plain, after drowning his first in ketchup and perhaps some mayo--that he'd taken a bite that had some hint of blueberry, but just that one bite. Instead, the Dijon was the strongest note, and I'm sure Barack would love that.

Sunday Success

Several weeks ago, I scored two pounds of pork tenderloin at HEB at a great price. Granted, I'd never prepared pork tenderloin before, and to the best of my knowledge, I'd never eaten it before either. As I think I've mentioned before, Gentle Reader, I was not raised in a pork-eating family (if you exclude the relatively large amounts of Potter's sausage we ate during the 18 or so years I lived under my parents' roof). Dad raised cows, not pigs--and boy, do I wish I had a picture of Dad and Devilboy to share with you right now.

When I bought the tenderloin, I did have plans for it and did have some hope that my previous largely positive experiences with preparing edible pork chops for the human residents of Chez Boeckman-Walker would lead to another positive experience.

Of course, I had to wait for the weather to improve to have the opportunity to make the dish I'd picked out. No one wants to turn on the oven for an hour or so when the temperature is somewhere in the mid-90s with the humidity somewhere around the same percentage. That makes for a miserable dining experience no matter how tasty the meal is. Fortunately, Saturday's glorious rain led to an almost unseasonably chilly Sunday (since any more, May in Central Texas means heat, heat and more heat, with temperatures in the 70s something you can only long to dip down to overnight), which was the perfect weather for turning on Lumpy and let him get all hot and bothered for an hour.

Ginger and Thyme–brined Pork Loin1 C chopped fresh thyme sprigs
2 C water
1/2 C ginger preserves
3 T kosher salt
1 2-lb. boneless pork loin roast, trimmed
1 t freshly ground black pepper
1 T ginger preserves
1 t chopped fresh thyme

1. Combine the chopped thyme, water, salt and ginger preserves in a large bowl, then stir until the salt dissolves.
   
2. Pour the thyme mixture into a large zip-top plastic bag, add the pork to the bag, then seal.
   
3. Marinate the pork in the refrigerator for 24 hours, turning occasionally.
   
4. Preheat the oven to 425°.
   
5. Remove the pork from the bag, discarding the marinade.
   
6. Pat the pork dry with a paper towel, then rub it with pepper.
   
7. Place the pork on a roasting rack coated with cooking spray in a pan.
   
8. Bake at 425° for 25 minutes, then reduce heat to 325° (do not remove pork from oven) and bake 30 minutes.
   
9. While the pork is baking, combine 1 tablespoon of ginger preserves with 1 teaspoon of chopped thyme in a small bowl.
   
10. After the second round of baking is finished, brush the preserves mixture over the pork, then bake an additional 5 minutes or until a thermometer registers 155° (slightly pink).
    
11. Place the pork on a platter, then let it stand 15 minutes before cutting into 1/2" slices.

Yield: 8 servings (serving size: 3 oz. of pork)

Nutritional Info
Calories: 172
Fat: 6 g (s
Sat fat: 2.1 g
Protein: 24.8 g
Carbs: 3.2 g
Fiber: 0.1 g
Cholesterol: 62 mg
Sodium: 396 mg

The Faudie's Futzing
I made only three changes to the recipe. One was out of bewilderment, one was from poor planning and the third was out of thriftiness.

Did you see, Gentle Reader, that the recipe calls for four tablespoons of kosher salt for the brine. Yeah, tablespoons. That's a helluva lotta salt, and there was just no way I was going to follow that. Instead, I used four...roughly level servings from the little ceramic shallow scoop that came with the salt pig in which I keep my kosher salt. I think that little scoop is roughly an eighth of a teaspoon, so I didn't use that much salt.

Speaking of the brining, the second change concerned that process. I failed to remember that the meat needed to marinate for 24 hours, so it only got just shy of nine hours in the brine. Did that affect the flavor? I can't say. Perhaps the meat would have, as I'd feared, wound up with an almost overpowering thyme flavor if it had had more time swimming in the thymey water. Maybe not.

Not the prettiest sight, but the brined, thymey pork seemed ready for baking. Looks a little like mock duck, doesn't it?

The third change involved the thyme. Feel free to be impressed, Gentle Reader, that I have fresh thyme growing in a pot on the yoga patio. However, I don't have that much thyme. Let's face it--a cup of chopped thyme is a helluva lotta thyme. I didn't want to scalp my little plant before it got a good chance to grow.

So instead I whipped out the bag of dried chopped thyme from my spice cabinet and used that. That amounted to a little over a fourth of a cup, which I augmented with maybe a tablespoon of fresh stuff.

The glaze I did make with fresh thyme. However, the pork baked with a pretty good coat of thyme because I wasn't sure if I was supposed to wipe it all off when the recipe told me to pat the pork dry before baking. Yeah, the pork was dry, but the thyme clung to it.

The finished meat I served with Korean sweet potatoes that I know all three of us will eat (and because I had to sweet potatoes on the counter that needed to be used). The color of the side dish popped nicely when paired with the finished pork. The how-dare-this-be-labeled-ciabatta half-loaf came from Wally World's discounted day-old bakery cart and was heated in Lumpy's very handy warming drawer, and made a great delivery device for more ginger preserves, which I discovered to be incredibly tasty. I'll have to look for more recipes using that ingredient.

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!

Porker of a Sunday

As you can undoubtedly deduce, Gentle Reader, if you keep up with my rantings and ravings, everyone here at Chez Boeckman-Walker consumes a lot of chicken. Boneless, skinless chicken breasts to be precise, with a few "chicken tenders" thrown in every now and then to mix things up. But we're a house of white meat eaters.

So you'd imagine, perhaps, that we white meat eaters would naturally consider eating "the other white meat." To which I reply, "What other white meat? Don't tell me you fell for that Pork Council bullshit." Because pork is not white meat. It's red meat. If you need to reeducate yourself, check out this handy site.

But here's the thing: HEB has had pork chops at a pretty compelling price for several weeks, and chicken breasts of the boneless, skinless variety aren't dirt cheap. And they get dull after a while. So I thought I'd change things up at little and experiment with some pork.

No History With Pork
Mum never served us pork chops. Sausage was the only pig product we knew. And may the FSM forever bless J.C. Potter and its excellent sausage.

I think we never had much pork because my parents weren't pig people. They didn't grow up that way on their respective childhood farms, if my recollection is correct. Mum's never talked about hogs on the farm, and I know that Dad in his blue and gold days raised cows. (May the FSM bless dear Devil Boy, where he is.) Our beef-oriented eating seems a natural extension of these animal husbandry habits of my parents' respective childhoods. Or perhaps Mum and Dad didn't like pork. I dunno.

Anywho, my first encounter with a pork chop came at my best friend Joy's house, and I distinctly remember being surprised that the meat wasn't offensively bad. No, that's not a slam against Joy's mom's cooking. She was an excellent cook. I figured that pork must not be very tasty since Mum didn't make it, but I was wrong.

But that didn't mean I've eaten a lot of pork. Or handled it much. I learned a fair amount about proper raw pork handling in freshman-year home ec, but I didn't put it to use when I dallied in raw meat preparation at the grocery store where I worked after school and during the summer from '93 until '95. (Hmm, now that I think about it, AML didn't really offer fresh pork cuts aside from bacon. Perhaps Okiemolah is just not a pork state.)

When I decided to perhaps throw in a little pork into our meals here at Chez Boeckman-Walker, I had to track down some recipes and possibilities. I ended up choosing a recipe that seemed pretty simple appears in the January/February 2009 issue of Cooking Light, which arrived the same day I bought pork chops for the very first time.

Pork Chops Oreganata1 T extra-virgin olive oil
2 t lemon zest
2 T fresh lemon juice
1 t chopped fresh oregano
3 garlic cloves, minced
4 (4-oz.) boneless pork chops
1/2 t kosher salt
1/4 t freshly ground black pepper

1. Combine the first five ingredients in an 11 x 7–inch baking dish.
   
2. Add the chops, turning to coat. Let stand 30 minutes, turning the pork occasionally.
   
3. Preheat the broiler.
   
4. Prep the broiler pan with nonstick cooking spray.
   
5. Remove the chops from the baking dish, and place them on the broiler pan. Discard the marinade.
   
6. Sprinkle the pork evenly with salt and pepper.
   
7. Broil the chops 4 min. on each side or until done.

Nutritional Info
Calories: 168
Fat: 6 g
Sat fat: 1.9 g
Protein: 26.5 g
Carbs: 0.2 g
Cholesterol: 78 mg
Sodium: 283 mg

The Faudie's Futzings

• I used more than 2 teaspoons of lemon zest because the lemon I zested was larger.
  
• I used a lemon-flavored olive oil to help ensure good lemon-age. I figured, hey, if I screw up something, at least it'll be lemon-flavored.
  
• I didn't haven't any fresh oregano. While I considered replacing the oregano with freshly chopped cilantro, I opted instead to use some of the dried oregano that I've had literally for more than a dozen years. One of these days, I will finish that big-ass container I bought at Sam's back in Santa Fe in October of 1995....
  
• I completely forgot to sprinkle the chops with salt and pepper before broiling them. Oh well.
  
• I followed Lumpy's instruction manual and broiled the chops on high for 10 minutes on one side and 8 minutes on the other. Perhaps I should have followed the recipe's instructions:
  
  Before Broiling--
  Aren't they lovely?
  
  
  
  After Broiling Per Lumpy's Instructions--
  Lovely burnt sacrifices I have, n'est pas?

When Life Gives You Lemons....
After deciding on a pork chop recipe, my next dilemma was deciding what sort of side dish to prepare to accompany it. I presented this dilemma to the husband, whose tastes along with the boy's so often determine what side dishes I prepare. I admitted I didn't have too much to choose from--some frozen broccoli, frozen sugar snap peas, frozen soup veggies, frozen peas and carrots mix and frozen peas.

The husband suggested instant mashed potatoes.

I passed on his idea. For starters, potatoes would just be too damn all-'merican. I also didn't want to pair the pork with something heavily starchy.

While showering Sunday morning after kickboxing, I was thinking over the recipe for the chops and thinking about the lemon olive oil I planned to use. That's about the time inspiration struck: What about a lemon and mushroom rice pilaf of some sort? (I was in a mushroomy mood that Sunday morning for some reason, Gentle Reader. Just go with it.) I figured I could find some recipe online to start with and improvise from there.

Fortunately, I found a lemon rice recipe--also from Cooking Light--that I chose to make instead.

Fresh Lemon Rice3 C water
2 C uncooked basmati rice
3/4 t salt
1 T extra-virgin olive oil
1 T butter
1 t brown mustard seeds
3 T chopped fresh cilantro
2 t lemon zest
2 t fresh lemon juice

1. Combine the first three ingredients in a large saucepan over medium-high heat and bring to a boil.
   
2. Cover, reduce heat and simmer 15 min. or until all the liquid is absorbed and the rice is tender.
   
3. Remove the heat and let the rice stand 5 min. Fluff with a fork.
   
4. Heat the oil and butter in a small skillet over medium-high heat until the butter melts.
   
5. Add the mustard seeds and cook 2 min. or until the seeds begin to pop.
   
6. Scrape the seed mixture into the rice using a rubber spatula.
   
7. Add the cilantro, lemon zest and lemon juice to the rice and stir well.
   
8. Garnish with cilantro sprigs, if desired.

Nutritional Info
Calories: 146
Fat: 4.3 g
Sat fat: 1.5 g
Protein: 2.2 g
Carbs: 24.5 g
Fiber: 0.6 g
Cholesterol: 5 mg
Sodium: 309 mg

The Faudie's Futzings

• I used jasmine rice because I didn't have any basmati. And while I use two cups of rice, I only used about 2 1/4 cups of water. Three cups, in my experience, would have been too much.
  
• Salt? No.
  
• Screw the butter.
  
• I used about half a tablespoon of the lemon-flavored olive oil to cook the mustard seeds.
  
• Because the boy hates cilantro, I used only about two tablespoons, even though I had chopped probably four tablespoons' worth. Oh well, we'll have it ready for Wednesday burritos.

Heh, I did a mean thing to the boy when he came trotting through the kitchen as I was putting the final touches on the rice. He spied with pile of chopped cilantro on my cutting board and wailed his usual complaint against cilantro. So I told him no, that wasn't cilantro--it's parsley. And y'know what? The boy ate it.

He bitched about the mustard seeds though. Little fartknocker. At least he ate his chop without complaint, so I guess I scored some victory.

Pretty tasty dish, non?

Le Beuf Retournes

Pardon my French. It's been far too long since I attempted to do more than just jot down the common interjection.

Yes, beef made a return to Chez Boeckman-Walker Monday night, this time in the form of a curry. Well, I think it was supposed to be a curry. The recipe, from the Stonyfield Farm Yogurt Cookbook, is called Beef and Potato Curry, and the FSM knows it had enough turmeric in it to make it a curry. But it was a bit different from curries I've had.

Turmerific!
Turmeric is a funny spice. It's part of the ginger family, but if you're ever exposed to mass quantities of it many times over (as I was last summer while on the job--don't ask), you'd swear you were being gassed with onion stench. I also don't find the flavor to be too close to ginger, but perhaps that's because my turmeric is a dozen or so years old.

Anywho, if I attempt to make this recipe again, I'll probably halve the turmeric amount. It's a great spice, but it doesn't do much for me except turn my fingertips, countertops, utensils and pots a temporary but nasty shade of yellow-orange that really isn't appetizing to look at for long.

Beef and Potato Curry3 medium onions, chopped
3 T vegetable oil
6 whole black peppercorns
4 cardamom seedpods
4 cloves
1 t coriander seeds
1 1/2 lb. stew beef, cubed
3 t turmeric
3 t ground cumin
2 t chili powder
3 cloves garlic, crushed
2 t grated fresh ginger
2 C beef broth
1 C plain yogurt
1 tomato, wedged
4 medium potatoes of any variety, peeled and quartered

1. In a large, heavy skillet or casserole, heat the oil over medium-high heat.
   
   
2. Fry the onions along with the peppercorns, cardamom pods, cloves an coriander seeds until the coriander seeds pop (about 5 minutes).
   
3. Add the beef and brown it on all sides (3 to 5 minutes).
   
4. Add the turmeric, cumin, chili powder, garlic and ginger. Continue to cook, stirring constantly, for 2 more minutes.
   
5. Add the broth.
   
6. Stir in the yogurt and tomato.
   
7. Cover and simmer over low heat for 1 1/2 hours. Do not allow the mixture to boil.
   
8. Add the potatoes and cook 20 to 30 minutes longer until the potatoes are tender.

Yield: 4 servings

Nutritional Information
These numbers are based on full-fat and full-sodium products.
Calories: 620
Fat: 26 g
Saturated fat: 4 g
Protein: 45 g
Fiber: 6 g
Carbs: 51 g
Cholesterol: 100 mg
Na: 860 mg

The Faudie, of course, doesn't use full-fat and full-sodium products if she can help it. Here are my mods and hacks to this recipe:

• Two tablespoons of canola oil in lieu of five tablespoons. Sheesh, this sucker must be swimming in grease if you follow the recipe!
  
• Continuing on my "Cooking to Clean Out the Refrigerator" theme from last week, I made this recipe in part to get rid of some plain fat-free yogurt and that wretched Wally World beef broth. Unfortunately, I didn't have as much yogurt as I thought, so I wound up using about 3/4 cup of fat-free sour cream and 1/4 c fat-free yogurt. Did it affect the flavor? I couldn't tell. If you've ever had Greek-style yogurt, you might agree with me that its taste and texture is just like sour cream, so I think my substitution was appropriate here.
  
• I used a bag of presliced red potatoes from HEB. I'd sent the husband out after these while I was at the gym Saturday, and he picked up the wrong thing (or the HEB didn't have the brand in the green bag--I didn't ask him). These potatoes weren't wedged very well, so even after half an hour in the pot, they were still pretty hard. Oh well. Perhaps on reheating for leftovers they'll get tender...
  
• Rather than trusting the Lo setting on my stove, I threw the curry into my crockpot on high. It simmered nicely while I was in the study/Star Wars room editing monographs.
  
  
• Since I had canned diced tomatoes leftover from Sunday morning's ridiculously simple chicken curry, I tossed in what looked to my eye to be about one tomato's worth of diced bits.

Unfortunately, I still have a little bit of beef broth left, which I might just chuck, as well as some diced tomatoes, which I can probably find a use for. And I now have a two- or three-cup storage bowl of leftover beef and potato curry in the 'fridge. The Faudie plans, the FSM laughs.

Speaking of planning, I did manage to have enough foresight and wherewithal to remember to towel off the beef before browning it.
Dear 'ol Bridget at America's Test Kitchen would be so proud of me!

Not Quite Beef Aloo
I made this recipe in hopes of replicating the beef aloo that Indian Palace serves on its buffet--which I have to admit is basically just roast beef and potatoes prepared with a few spices in a pressure cooker then set to float in a gravy, much like the stuff Mum made when I was a kid. This recipe got close, but not not close enough. I blame the turmeric.



I quickly made up (screwed up is more like it) some Golden Temple frozen chapati to go along with the curry and jasmine rice. The husband's been wanting chapati for several meals now, not because he wants chapti, mind you. No, he just wants a honey and cinnamon-sugar blend delivery device. Yes, Gentle Reader, my husband has turned chapati into would-be sopapillas. Le sigh.... But, hey, I got to get out the chili roaster, and that's always fun.

Culinary Misadventures With the Kiddo, Day 4

While the kiddo was front and center during yesterday's misadventure, he wasn't around much today, largely because he took an impromptu nap around 4 while I was in the thick of the kitchen craziness. Just because he wasn't physically present didn't mean he wasn't involved: Today is the five-year anniversary of the kiddo's arrival in the U.S. on a hot July 3 that his parents thought would never end as the newly formed threesome traipsed from Seoul to L.A. to Phoenix and finally home to Austin. In honor of the occasion, we had some of our favorite Korean foods along with a tribute to the husband's last meal in Seoul, a bulgolgi Whopper.

Starting Off Easy: Sweet Potatoes
I tracked down this recipe while killing time a few months back, and the fam and I believe it tastes just like the sweet potatoes we get when we hit Korea House. This is only the second time I've made it, and I swear my technique for half-assedly cubing the potatoes has improved tremendously since watching Bridget Lancaster prep russets for garlic and olive oil mashed potatoes on a sixth-season episode of America's Test Kitchen.


Look pretty tasty, non?

Here's the recipe, if you want to try these oh-so-simple-to-prepare-and-oh-so-flavorful yummies:

1-2 sweet potatoes
2 T low-sodium soy sauce
2 t sugar (or Clabbergirl Sugar Replacer)
1 t minced garlic
2 t sesame seeds
1 t sesame oil (I only have light, but I'd imagine dark would work too)
4 T chopped green onions

1. Combine soy sauce, sugar, garlic, sesame seeds and sesame oil in a small bowl. Set aside.
2. Peel and cube potatoes. Place in a sauce pan and cover with just enough water.
3. Bring water to a boil and cook until they're tender.
4. Drain water then add the soy sauce mix. Toss well.
5. Sprinkle with green onions and serve.

Here's a tip I picked up from the original contributor of this recipe (and don't ask me where I found it because I lost the link in one of my computer rebuilds): If you won't be boiling the potatoes for a while, place them in cold water after you peel (and cube, if doing so right away) them so they won't discolor. It works too since I had about two hours to kill before I started the water boiling.

Another Recipe Revisit: Japchae
The kiddo and I are both huge fans of japchae. When I'm at Korea House, I'll order just this while the boys each get bulgolgi. Before my culinary misadventures, I attempted to make this dish twice, and both times I found the end result severely lacking in flavor. Luckily I found a recipe and "improved" upon it so that we wind up with japchae that the kiddo will eat (that's quite a feat) and that tastes pretty close to the stuff from Korea House.


Pretty colorful, don't you think?

I've come across a lot of recipes for japchae online that call for rice noodles, but from what I understand, "true" japchae is made from sweet potato noodles. I've been able to find these at New Oriental Market on Airport, and I'm sure if you've got a Korean/Japanese or decent pan-Asian market near you (and yes, my Okiemolah family members, "near you" is a relative phrase) you can find some there. While I haven't tried a japchae dish with anything but sweet potato noodles, I urge you to go authentic (as I understand it) and track down sweet potato noodles.

Here's the recipe for making both bulgolgi and japchae in one wok, with my modifications:

Bulgolgi Beef

1 C diagonally sliced carrots (I used julienned ones tonight since I had some on hand and didn't want to pay Wally World prices for whole carrots I'd have to chop; Wally World produce ain't cheap)
1 C julienned onion (I've been using yellow, but I'd imagine a white one would work)
1 C sliced green onions
1 red bell pepper, cut into strips of no more than 2-inch strips
1 C diagonally sliced zucchini (optional, if you don't live with people who refuse to eat anything green)
1/2 t crushed red pepper flakes
5 garlic cloves, minced

Yangyumjang Sauce

3 T low-sodium soy sauce
3 T sugar (or your fav sugar replacer)
1 T honey or agave nectar (I go for the agave)
1 T cooking rice wine (if you've got sake or soju, go for it!)
1 t sesame oil (again, I only have light, but I'd imagine dark would work)
2 T chopped green onion
1 t minced ginger
1 t minced garlic

1. Marinate the bulgolgi beef in bulgolgi sauce for at least one hour. I use Koon Chun, which is just labeled "Barbeque Sauce," but it's damn tasty.
2. Make the yangyumjang sauce and set aside.
3. Prepare the japchae noodles.
4. Prep the wok by spraying it with nonstick cooking spray then heating it over medium-high heat.
5. Add bulgolgi beef and marinade, then stir fry until beef is cooked.
6. Remove bulgolgi, put in a separate dish, cover and keep warm.
7. Clean the work, respray it and reheat it.
8. Add crushed red pepper and five minced garlic cloves, then stir fry 30 seconds.
9. Add carrots and zucchini (if using), then stir fry for 3 to 4 minutes.
10. Add onions and red pepper strips, then stir fry until the carrots and zucchini are tender.
11. Add back the beef to the veggies, then add the noodles along with the yangyumjang sauce and 1-2 T of bulgolgi marinade (optional, to taste). Stir well.
12. Cook 3 to 5 minutes until the veggies, beef and noodles have absorbed the sauces.

While the yangyumjang sauce is pretty good, I found I needed extra marinade/bulgolgi sauce so that the noodles got to absorb some too. Feel free to exclude it, especially if you opt to make your own sauce (for which you can find beaucoup recipes online).

New for the Night: Bulgolgi Burgers
I came across a recipe for Korean barbecue burgers a few weeks back, sent it to the husband at work and together we decided we needed to try it sometime. Well, tonight was that sometime.

I'll admit that I didn't actually use the recipe. I just thawed some ground beef (I know, quite a shocker to have cow meat in my house), threw in some Koon Chun sauce so the beef could marinade for about two hours, then made up seven or eight patties for the husband to cook while I was getting a much-needed massage. Now I did throw in the half-cup of sliced green onion the Cooking Light recipe calls for, and I'm happy to report that they stayed in the patties and didn't fall out.


Our Circulon grill pan is getting quite a bit of use, I'm happy to report, because it performs so well. Cleanup is a snap--although I wish I weren't the only one doing that job.

Tomorrow the residents of Chez Boeckman-Walker will celebrate not by blowing anything up (at least I hope to hell not) but by baking some cookies together as a family. Y'know, with the three of us humans (and surely a feline resident or two) in the kitchen, the odds of some culinary explosions are quite high. Check your favorite "Odd News" section come Saturday for reports of mysterious in-house fireworks in northwest Austin.