Like pretty much anyone with taste buds and a working nose, I love bacon, and having a stab at curing my own is something I’ve wanted to do for a while, in fact ever since I read this article by Tim Hayward a few years ago.
Despite what you think, it’s actually really easy. In fact I’d say anyone blessed with a pair of arms could do it. It requires no culinary skill what so ever, just a very few ingredients and a bit of time. In fact less than a week. Just think, a week after reading this you could be tucking into a sarnie made with your own bacon. Excited? You should be.
I substituted the maple syrup in Tim’s cure for black treacle, as I wanted to try something a bit different, and I used a smaller joint, but the rest of the method is pretty much as described in the link above. The only other thing you’ll need is a tupperware box big enough to accommodate the joint.
Ingredients
1kg loin of pork, skin removed and boned
400ml black treacle
300g unrefined sea salt
Method
Day 1: Go to a decent butcher and ask him / her for a boned loin of pork with a finished weight of around a kilo. Also ask them to remove the skin, but leave the fat on. Take the joint home, pop it into your tupperware box, and then cover in 200ml of the black treacle. Give the joint a good rub all over, making sure it’s nicely coated, and then pop on the lid and stick it in the fridge.
Day two of me pulling my finger out is another local hero from our stay in New York late last year, and trades the buttery crusts of pies for another American obsession. Barbecue.
I’ve wanted to visit Fette Sau since I read about it three or four years ago. Last time I was in New York, I failed to get my ‘cue on, so this time I vowed not to fly home without coating my face in barbecue sauce.
Tucked away down a side alley in Williamburgh, Brooklyn, Fette Sau is a temple to meat. The walls are adorned with scrawlings of different cuts of various four legged beasts, knives hang behind the bar, the white tiled walls are all butcher shop, and they sell their wares by weight as opposed to portion, which is great from a trying everything point of view. It also exposed the tactical eaters we overheard rejecting anything on the bone as it’s “…dead weight, man…”, which means no ribs, which is crazy right??
I wanted to try as much as I could, so after much deliberation I pulled together what I figured would be a killer selecta. Black Angus Brisket, Spicy Berkshire Pork Sausage, Pulled Berkshire Pork Shoulder, Duroc baby Back Ribs, Burnt-End Baked Beans and some green stuff to keep my digestive system alive. Now I was pretty pleased with the ribs that I made earlier in the year, but this was some next level business. The words that follow are not going to do what I ate justice, because I loved every friggin’ mouthful so much, but here’s a taster.
So…….back in time a few weeks we hit the last stop on our trip, New York. It’s been a couple of years since I was last there, and to paraphrase DOOM, it still is a hell of a finer town. Knowing we only had a few days of our adventure left, we rolled up our sleeves and ate our way right to the core. I’m probably going to do some longer posts on a couple of other discoveries, and I didn’t make it to The Dutch which I REALLY wanted to check out, but here are a few highlights.
Where to start…hmmmm. The first time I went to NY, probably back in ‘97, my mate Matt took me to The Oyster Bar at Grand Central Station. I vividly remember sitting in the back room saloon surrounded by brash New Yoikers shouting at each other and guzzling plates of oysters whilst I sat slurping a New England Clam Chowder in a happy jet-lagged daze. The wife and I decided to pay it a visit this time, and I’m happy to say nothing’s really changed. It’s certainly a tourist attraction, but it is still rammed with every shape and size of New Yorker having lunch, doing deals and chewing the fat (oysters). We sucked down a couple of zinc-ey Long Island Bluepoints, a bowl of that creamy, soothing chowder and a very tasty crab-cake sarnie all, washed down with a couple of glasses of super chilled Sauvignon Blanc. As far as classic New York lunches go, it’s hard to beat, and good to see an institution like this still chugging away.
Gyoza, dumplings, wontons, pot stickers, whatever you call them, I love them. They’ve fast become one of my favourite snacks. One of those things that when you think about them, you’ve got to have them.
I’d never really thought of making my own, but a chance encounter with a dumpling press and a packet of wonton wrappers in San Fran’s China town changed all that, and now I can’t stop cranking them out. Of course if I was a real expert, I’d be wrapping them by hand, but I’m not, and the $6 press does a pretty good job.
This Thai influenced recipe has a pork filling, but you can stuff these little guys with whatever you want really. You could do a variation with salmon or shrimp and chive, or maybe even tofu and shitake mushrooms. The cases we’ve found work best are Singapore style dumpling wrappers as they’re a bit thicker and give the pot stickers more substance.
One more thing, the pot stickers get fried on one side (which is how they get their name) and then steamed, so you’re going to need a wok or frying pan with a lid. Lets begin.
‘Barbecue’ is a bit of a national obsession in the US. From what I can gather there’s a bit of rivalry between the North and South in terms of style. I forget which, but one part of the country favours the dry, and the other the more saucy, but whatever side you meat falls on, it can be some tasty shizzle.
This recipe is a culmination of a bunch of different barbecue recipes we’ve read and tasted since we’ve been out here. A lot of the more recent ones seem to favour balsamic vinegar and going heavy on the sugar as part of the sauce, which to my taste is a bit sweet, and you end up with almost Chinese style ‘candied’ ribs. I prefer a bit more of a balance between sweet and savoury, so have used apple cider vinegar. But be careful not to go too far the other way or you’ll end up with something that will strip the enamel off your teeth.
The ribs get a double dose of flavour from a dry rub (which you should allow to do it’s work for a good few hours; or ideally overnight) and a wet barbecue ‘mopping sauce’ that you douse the meat with whilst it cooks on the barbecue.
Back to Christmas for a couple of posts. As I mentioned earlier, my old dear does a Herculean quantity of cooking over Christmas, so it’s become a bit of a tradition that I’ll give her the night off and cook something up for the family.
This year I opted for a stuffed loin of pork, served with rosemary and thyme roasted new potatoes and buttered cabbage. The only really fiddly bit of this recipe is tying the joint up after you’ve stuffed it. I made a bit of a mess of my string work, but there are plenty of on-line vids to watch to help you hone your skills.
A 2kg joint should serve around 8 people. Get your butcher to bone and butterfly the meat, and score the skin for you, unless you know what you’re doing with a knife.
Ingredients
2kg loin of pork (the best you can afford)
400g pork mince
1 apple, peeled, cored and diced
1 onion, finely chopped
2 cloves of garlic, finely chopped
Handful of sage leaves, finely chopped
Handful of bread crumbs
Zest of a lemon
1/4 nutmeg, grated
Salt and pepper to taste
Another onion, sliced for roasting the joint on on
Half a glass of white wine
Method
It should be no surprise to learn that the first step is to prepare the stuffing, but before you do this set your oven to 230c, then sweat off the onion, apple and garlic in some olive oil, making sure your apple is diced nice and finely. You don’t want to colour the ingredients, just get them softened. When the onion is translucent, set aside to cool a bit.
I love a bit of pork belly, but I don’t cook it at home that often. I’m not really sure why, but as soon as I taste that tasty, unctuous meat and get my teeth round that crackling, I vow to do it more often.
This recipe gives the belly the Eastern treatment using Szechuan pepper and Chinese five spice. Despite a lot of the fat rendering out during the cooking process, it’s definitely not the healthiest meat, but when it tastes as good as it does, who gives a toss.
Ingredients (serves 2)
For the pork
750g pork belly joint
1 tablespoon Szechuan pepper
1 teaspoon black pepper corns
1 teaspoon Chinese five spice
1 teaspoon sea salt
For the greens
200g baby pak choi
1/2 red chilli, chopped
2 cloves of garlic, chopped
1 tablespoon Light soy sauce
2 tablespoons water
6-8 Spring onions
Sesame oil
Vegetable oil
Method
First up, score the skin of pork belly all over in a diamond formation with as sharp a knife as you’re got. You want to cut through the skin, but not down to the flesh, around 3 millimeters deep.
Got the tip off about this porky flavoured slice of grime from my mate Tom, and it’s put a Junior Spesh style grin on my face. With tongue planted firmly in cheek, Shadrack and Mandem drop lyrical bombs like “I take pics and I never say cheese, I take food and I never say please”. Pure class.
Hand To Mouth is a blog about food. Eating it. Cooking it. Reviewing it. Reading about it. And everything in between.
I’ll be regularly posting recipes, reviews of some of my favourite places and opinion about anything food related that grabs my eye. Hopefully there’ll be a few laughs along the way, and I promise not to cut the cheese.
If you like what you see please let me know, and equally don’t be afraid of throwing a few rotten tomatoes my way if you don’t.
BIG thanks to Tom Hardcore at Nation for the blog design.
