Category: Bacon

Two Friends, Two Grills, and Some Great Cooking

Days of yore ...

Days of yore …

I have a friend named Mike Pitzen. I have known him for a long time, going on 30 years. He is a good man, and he is funny, with a sense of humor formed by a rural Wisconsin childhood, an education at the University of Wisconsin, and a levelheaded and pragmatic approach to life. We worked together as counselors at Space Camp, took part in a high-speed chase with Officer Wiley Bibb on an interstate highway in Alabama, and, yesterday, we grilled some very fine meat in Houston.

Mike and I in New York on New Year's Eve, partying with Michelle Shocked.

Mike visited me one year in New York, and we hung out with Michelle Shocked on New Year’s Eve.

Mike has lived here for about 13 years now, and when I decided to move to Houston, this past year, one of the things I looked forward to was reuniting with him. I had not seen Mike in a long while, for perhaps eight years or more, and since I’ve been in Texas we have had several long lunches and conversations over beers, and Angela and I have enjoyed getting to know his family, Krista and Holt. I am glad he is here.

I received a call from Mike several days ago during which he told me, “Come over around 4 and we’ll fire up the grills and burn some meat.” Angela and I headed over to their house and upon arriving saw two Weber Kettle grills ready for some proteins. Mike had rubbed a brisket, and it and some ribs were on the smoke. Angela and I brought some jumbo shrimp, and I got busy marinading them, in preparation of wrapping them in bacon and giving them a nice sear. We added a giant sausage link to the mix, and two chickens, one of which we cooked in the beer-can method. Mike rubbed his bird with a mixture of oil and spices, and I put some garlic slivers under the skin of mine and stuffed its cavity with fresh rosemary and a lemon. We talked, drank some beer, kept up with the match between The Netherlands and Costa Rica, and ate some very good meat.

Brisket from Pitzen.

Brisket from Pitzen.

Birds on a grill.

Birds on a grill.

On the table.

On the table.

The Peacemaker

New Orleans was treating me well. I had arrived the night before, driving up from South Florida, and my first stop, directly off of the interstate, was Pêche, a new destination – it opened about three months ago – in the Link Restaurant Group, the people behind Herbsaint and several other places. If you are in New Orleans and want some great seafood, take a drive to Magazine Street and sit for a while in Pêche.

Looking for Walker Percy: The courtyard of Creole Gardens, a bed and breakfast in New Orleans.

Looking for Walker Percy: The courtyard of Creole Gardens, a bed and breakfast in New Orleans.

After oysters, smoked tuna dip, raw tuna with fennel, corn and tomato water, and excellent grouper collars, I drove the short distance to my inn, the Creole Gardens, and settled in for the evening, thinking of tomorrow’s meals. A comfortably shabby courtyard, complete with banana trees hanging with bunches of the fruit and a gurgling fountain, and a small but serviceable room, greeted me.

Up early the next morning, breakfast at the inn – grits, two eggs over easy and bacon. My mind wasn’t really on that food, though, because I was thinking about how long it would be before I could have lunch. You see, my plan was all about the po’ boy; specifically, one with the name “Peacemaker” made at Mahony’s, a restaurant I knew of and one of the meals recommended to me by John T. Edge when I asked him “If you could eat three meals in New Orleans now, where would you go?” (Pêche and Brigtsen’s were the other two.) I had read about the Peacemaker a few years ago, and that, along with John’s input, resulted in Mahony’s getting my business in a po’ boy-rich city.

You must go here when in New Orleans.

This sign guides you to one fine  po’ boy.

I made the right decision. Mahony’s is also on Magazine, in a non-descript house with a welcoming front porch that allows for outdoor dining. Wooden flooring, SEC football posters on the walls, condiments stored in six-pack containers. You place your order at the end of the bar, give your name, and wait for the goodness to come out of the kitchen. The Peacemaker is “market price,” owing to the fried oysters that are key to its deliciousness. It comes in large and small, and I ordered a small, knowing dinner was still on the agenda. Pickles and mayo, please, hold the lettuce and tomato. I took a seat, looking forward to the sandwich.

A few minutes later the cook delivered it to me, wrapped in white butcher paper. I opened it and inhaled, then slowly took the first bite. Perfect muffaletta with sesame seeds, slightly warm, the proper level of chewiness. (Mahony’s get its bread from the Leidenheimer Baking Company, which was founded in 1896 by George Leidenheimer, who was from Deidesheim, Germany, a city near where I lived in Germany.) I asked for a side of mayonnaise and settled in for a leisurely meal. The Abita Amber was a good complement.

The Peacemaker, closed view

The Peacemaker, closed view

Not the most visually appealing image, but once this is in your mouth you will be in heaven, guaranteed.

Not the most visually appealing image, but once this is in your mouth you will be in heaven, guaranteed.

What we have: three or four fried oysters, cheddar cheese, and two slices of bacon. And we also have something approaching perfection. Oysters cooked with aplomb, crisp on the outside, warm and soft interiors. The bacon combined with the oysters to create a great taste. Even the small pickles added their element, turning these ingredients into something really special. My only thought other than “This is excellent” was that a better grade of cheese would make this po’ boy even better. The cheese resembled the Boar’s Head variety, and alone had an unremarkable taste. Perhaps a goat cheese, or a sharp cheddar. But, minor quibble aside, I would without hesitation enjoy a regular appointment at Mahony’s.

Oh yes, the name. Peacemaker. You might be wondering about that. I asked a waitress and she told me that she had heard it was because when musicians would stay out late at night playing and doing other things that happen at night they would stop by Mahony’s and take one home as a peace offering to their significant other, thereby keeping the peace, at least as long as that po’ boy lasted.

Perfect pig, perfect weekend

A brining pig

A brining pig

What do you cook at a lake in North Carolina on a summer day in May during a reunion with friends from high school, one of whom you haven’t seen in 13 years? A weekend during which Angela will meet some of your closest friends, people with whom you went to high school in Germany?

My first thought was a suckling pig, a pig that I hoped could be sourced from a North Carolina farmer. Beth, our hostess for the weekend, got to work and contacted Joseph Cataldo, a restaurateur in Salisbury, who found us the perfect pig. (He also loaned me a pan big enough to brine in.) Beth and her husband, Glenn, and their four children live in Salisbury, and they made us feel at home as well.

Glenn and Beth, consummate and caring hosts

Glenn and Beth, consummate hosts

Brined and rinsed

Brined and rinsed

A friendship more than 30 years in the making

A friendship more than 30 years in the making: Mark, Tina, Beth and James

Tina and Angela conspire

Tina and Angela conspire

Respect your product

Respect your product

We had some fine food during that weekend, including a Low Country Boil on Friday made by Beth and Glenn and a great dinner out on Saturday cooked by a Brazilian chef.

Low Country Love

Low Country Love

We saved the suckling pig for Sunday, our final day at the lake.

A fine pig

A fine pig

Skin-deep goodness

Skin-deep goodness

Prepping the skin

Prepping the skin

Mark and I rub

Mark and I rub

What's inside: garlic, fennel, basil leaves, orange zest

What’s inside: garlic, fennel, basil leaves, orange zest

Adding some salt

Adding some salt

Ingredients from the inside out

Ingredients from the inside out

We brined the pig on Saturday night, with lots of elephant garlic and some bay leaves and black peppercorns. On Sunday we transported the pig to the lake house and prepped. Angela took care of the garlic and the rub: orange zest, fennel fronds, salt, pepper and olive oil. I scored the pig’s skin, and Mark and I stuffed it with lots of garlic and the rub, plus some fresh basil leaves, and then massaged the skin with the remaining rub. A little more salt and pepper all over the skin, and the pig was ready for the oven.

I cooked it at 250 Fahrenheit for about 3.5 hours, and then for the last 30 minutes raised the temperature to 475 Fahrenheit, which gave us a perfect skin, crunchy and crisp; it melted in the mouth. We tented the pig with foil and let it rest for 15 minutes, and then began carving. The meat, dark and white, was moist, and the fennel and orange mingled in every tendril.

Out of the oven

Out of the oven

Perfect skin, perfect meat

Perfect skin, perfect meat

Mark gets some skin

Mark gets some skin

Crisp and hot

Crisp and hot

Glenn takes the knife

Glenn takes the knife

Glenn carves

Glenn carves

Glenn carves

Manual labor

Carving and talking

Carving and talking

The skin is key

The skin is key

Glenn carved, with expertise and aplomb, using his fingers like an extra knife, and we feasted, down to the tongue and ears. We ended the day on the dock, watching the sun set over the water. Perfect weekend, perfect pig.

On the lake, after the feast

On the lake, after the feast

(Angela Shah photography)

Duck and cheese, for a brisk day in Paris

Paris is … well, Paris is a great place for food, which is one of the reasons I love this city. Every day I wander into another little shop, looking for cheese, meats, vegetables, wines, coffees, or teas. Or conversation with people who love food and love to cook.

Teas of the world, in the 5th.

Teas of the world, in the 5th.

Today was brisk and sunny, I was out early, enjoying the holiday feeling, the lights and smiling people, the frowning people. Christmas trees are selling now, and the man who sits on the corner near my apartment depending on the kindness of strangers for his income added a new puppy to his entourage. He now has three.

I have been cooking a lot lately, saving my dining-out money for when Angela arrives. The kitchen in my apartment is small, two burners and a toaster oven. That limits my choices, but so far I’ve not had any problems satisfying my palate. This afternoon I picked up some sliced duck and a few shallots, and when I returned home I surveyed the kitchen and noticed some pasta and chèvre, and macaroni and cheese came to mind.

I love duck.

I love duck.

From a goat and a garden

From a goat and a garden

I cooked the pasta until it was just under al dente, then rinsed it in cold water and drained. I returned it to the pan and cooked it for a minute longer, to chase away any excess moisture. I then sliced the chèvre into it, added some salt and butter and mixed that well.

Cheese, pasta and butter

Cheese, pasta and butter; stir well.

duck bacon?

Duck bacon? Yes.

Duck fat and vegetables

Duck fat and vegetables

The duck I heated gently, then removed it from the pan and sautéed an onion and a shallot in the duck fat, which imparts a great taste to the vegetables. The duck I tore into smaller pieces, then added it, along with the onion and shallot, to the pasta and cheese mixture. Stirred it well and seasoned with more salt and pepper, then added a bit of cream.

The oven was hot, so I buttered a baking dish and put the pasta mixture into it. Into the oven went the dish, and I cooked it for an hour or so.

One can do a lot, or a little, with a toaster over

One can do a lot, or a little, with a toaster oven.

About five or 10 minutes before the dish was done I put a few more pieces of chèvre on top of the pasta and broiled it until the cheese melted.

It was excellent, with a baguette and a pinot noir. If you can’t find duck I have also tasted this dish with pork bacon, or lardons, or salmon. I prefer duck.

Everyone loved macaroni and cheese, no?

Everyone loves macaroni and cheese, no?

Pork on ice

Most people I know love bacon, and most people I know have a strong affection for ice cream. Two years ago I was invited to a Thanksgiving dinner in Dubai – about 40 people were going to be attending. I was asked to bring something for dessert, because the turkeys and hams and gumbo were already taken care of. The hosts were from Texas, and I was happy to accept the invitation, because I had already been fortunate enough to taste D.B.’s slow-cooked pork and beef brisket.

I then got to thinking about what I would make; the year before, A.S. and I had put on a Thanksgiving dinner for about 15 friends and colleagues, and it was a great success. It would be good for a change to not have to brine and cook a turkey and make Scooter’s Southwestern Dressing and struggle to find room in the refrigerator for a 20-pound bird.

However, I knew I would miss working with poultry and pork and giblets and set out to come up with something both savory and sweet for my dessert. After a bit of thought I recalled a pine nut semifreddo recipe I had run across in The Silver Spoon; it is a great dish with which to end a meal – not too sweet, but sweet enough to satisfy, especially if served with a small chocolate cake. So, thinking of pork, and one of my favorite pork products, bacon, I decided to make Pine Nut and Bacon Semifreddo.

Goodness: Bacon and brown sugar

Goodness: Bacon and brown sugar

I do not want to mislead you into thinking that this dish sprung from my head with no precursor; by now, there is nothing original to do with bacon, and we have enjoyed it in brownies and cocktails and cheese and panna cotta, to name but a few. I also recall, with pleasure, a fine dish I had at a restaurant in Brooklyn that included avocado and bacon ice cream.

That said, my Bacon Semifreddo was a hit that Thanksgiving, so much so that the amount I made fell short of demand, the empty bowl in the middle of the dessert table looking bereft, yet satisfied, as the containers of strawberry and vanilla ice creams around it sat full and forlorn. More than several people asked me if there was more bacon “ice cream” and told me it was the best thing they had tasted that Thanksgiving evening. (I recall fondly, however, a giant pot of gumbo that included homemade andouille that had been brought over from Louisiana … it was as good as the semifreddo, and I am glad it was there.)

Have you ever pulverized bacon? You should.

Have you ever pulverized bacon? You should.

So, here’s how I make the semifreddo; I use the recipe found in The Silver Spoon (and if you don’t have this book, get it) as a foundation, and add the candied bacon:

Preheat oven to 400F; on a baking sheet lined with aluminum foil or a Silpat, arrange five slices of bacon. Sprinkle 2-3 tablespoons of brown sugar evenly on the slices and cook for 15 minutes or so (until brown), turning the slices midway through the cooking time. Cool bacon on a wire rack. When cool, cut slices and put in food processor with blade inserted; pulse until the bacon is nearly pulverized. Set aside in a bowl.

Next, spread 1 1/4 cups of pine nuts on a baking sheet and roast at 350F for 8 minutes or so, until the nuts are golden; do not overcook. While the pine nuts are roasting, put 1 cup of sugar and 4 tablespoons of water in a heavy pan over medium-high heat. The mixture will bubble and then become a clear syrup. Stir, and wait until the syrup begins to turn a golden brown. Carefully add the roasted pine nuts to the syrup and stir carefully. Coat the nuts evenly, then spread on an oiled cookie sheet. Let cool, then break up the praline and put half in your food processor, reserving the other half. Pulse until very fine. Then, pulse the rest of the praline until crushed, but do not turn it to powder.

Dessert is served.

Dessert is served.

Now, you proceed to the semifreddo in earnest. You need 1 vanilla bean, 4 eggs, separated, 4 tablespoons of sugar, 1 1/4 cups of heavy cream, and a pinch of salt. Slice the vanilla bean lengthwise and scrape the seeds into a bowl. Add the egg yolks and sugar and whisk until pale. In another bowl (use glass or other nonreactive bowls for this recipe) whisk the cream until you form peaks. (Always use a clean whisk; grease or fats interfere with the process; if you have only one, wash and dry it for each step.) In a third bowl, whisk the egg whites and pinch of salt until thick – I always do the whites last so as to have stiffer peaks.

Now, fold the cream into the yolk mixture, then fold the whites into that. Finally – and if all of this seems laborious, it isn’t – fold in your delicious bacon and the crushed praline. Pour the mixture into an airtight container and freeze until firm. You can make this the day before.

I like to serve the semifreddo with a flourless chocolate cake, but have been known to take the container from the freezer and, using my favorite silver spoon, enjoy as is.

© 2024 Mise en Place

Theme by Anders NorenUp ↑