Showing posts with label cooking. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cooking. Show all posts

Monday, July 8, 2024

A dish I've been considering lately

No reason in particular. Certainly not a critically acclaimed expansion to Fantasy Meso/South America or anything.

'Cochinita Pibil'. It's delicious. One of a great many variations around the world of what one might call 'pulled pork' (and probably get smacked for calling it that, but it gets the gist across). It's not necessarily hard to make , but it definitely can be a bit tricky to get all of the commonly accepted essential components.

First and foremost, it's a pork dish. A slow-roasted pork dish, which means temperature control is more important than other slow cook methods like braising. Usually/traditionally it involves a whole or half pig, though for the home cooks, a sizable chunk of shoulder or butt will do nicely. If there's a fatcap or a slab of skin? Leave them on. Maybe score the fatcap with a nice crisscross to ensure faster and more even rendering, but you don't really need to play with it.


Next, the marinade. It's extremely vigorously acidic, so it shouldn't be done for too long before you get it cooking. The traditional method is heavy on the juice of the Bitter Orange / Marmalade Orange. I didn't have a lot of those, so I fine tuned with Cara Cara orange juice and Calamansi lime, both of which I happened to have on hand.

Other universal components are garlic (shocking, I know) and Achiote. The latter is a seed (looks rather like Fenugreek, actually), and when toasted/ground, provides a mild flavor and massive burst of color, somewhat akin to a red version of what you might get out of Turmeric. However much you're using is probably not enough.

One last necessary is the banana leaf. They become the vessel in which the marinated pork and other miscellany are wrapped to ensure the slow-roasting process doesn't dry it out. (I'm reminded of Beggar's Chicken there) You can usually find these frozen at Latin or Asian markets. They're pretty cheap and keep for ages.

The rest is other aromatics. You'll see varying quantities of things like Oregano, Allspice, Cinnamon (the real stuff), Peppercorns, and Bay Leaves. You'll also see additional water-heavy aromatics like onion, fresh chiles, and tomato for extra liquid generation (hedging one's bet- no way to tinker once this goes in the oven) and flavor development. I added smoked paprika to my marinade for additional color and smokiness since I didn't have access to the traditional cooking method.


My recent effort didn't use all of those spices I just listed in the marinade (a mistake, in retrospect). My concerns that the flavors would be too potent and throw off the balance of the finished dish led me to apply some of them in the preparation of the accompaniments instead. 

Most commonly this is served with a violently spicy salsa as well as pickled onion (wherein I used cinnamon, bay leaf, and smoked peppercorn to enhance my pickling liquid and apply those flavors from a different direction). I should have spiced up both. So don't be afraid to go hard.

Now, the cooking itself is interesting. The 'pibil' in the name denotes the usage of a pib, a sort of underground oven. Imagine doing this like you might a clambake, or on a campfire, covered and with coals. Since most of that's a little rough to manage in a home kitchen, I simply used the oven, and in case my banana leaves cracked open, I put everything in a lidded cast-iron pot. Wrap the pork package as airtight as you can in those banana leaves, then set it in the pot, clap the lid on, and away you go.

I mentioned temperature control. I meant it. When I say slow-roasted I mean s l o w. We're talking the 250-275F for four or five hours kind of slow. You've got to give it time for the collagen to convert to gelatin, and the tissues to break down / soften. Without the added liquid from, say, a braise, it can take longer and it's much easier to accidentally end up with a dried-out, sad result.

But that's the lot of it, really. Once it's tender, just shred it and make tacos. Meat, spicy salsa, aromatic pickled onions, maybe some cilantro. Can't beat it.

Saturday, January 7, 2023

Sushi 101 @ KOF- Afterthoughts

    I was offered an opportunity to do one of my personally designed classes at a cooking school called Kitchen On Fire in Berkeley- they were in need of people who can do Asia, and that's kind of my thing.

    Strangely enough, starting with them came via a charming retro cold-call. Or cold-email, as the case may be. I gave them my name, my pedigree as an instructor, and gave the name of one of their most reputable guest instructors as a reference, a delightful woman named Maria, of Maria Teresa's Kitchen. Not at all a stretch to do so either- she'd been a guest instructor at my previous cooking school many times, and we always worked quite smoothly together. Ten minutes after I sent the email, I got a phone call with an eager offer. Pleasant!

    Fast forward several months and my shadowing a class or two, to last night's sushi seminar. Fourteen people is a bit more than ideal for this particular class, which led to it feeling rather jumbled to me. I was apparently the only one that thought so, though. Everyone had naught but good things to say, even my assistant and the dishwasher!

    I did spend a fair bit of time talking at first, which is inevitable. The goal of the class was not just to get everyone to practice what I was showing, but to ensure that they understood the principles behind the techniques. Mimicry only gets a person so far, after all.

    First comes the briefest of sushi history lessons, and the slow evolution of the concept into what we know it as today. After which I hit them with the essential terminology, some interesting trivia, and then we take a break to get into some technique. Knife skills practice yielded a rustic but classic side dish, Kinpira Gobo, as well as some delicately julienned cucumber for the evening's kappa-maki. Some other vegetarian sushi options included crispy roasted sweet potatoes, green onions, and my specialty shiitake braised in shoyu and mirin with ginger.

    Next, the fish. Tuna and salmon were the easy choices, since I'd been sandbagged with an attendee possessed of a shellfish allergy. A quick lesson on butchery, brine-freezing, and a few other tidbits kept them interested while I cut the fish. Regrettably I hadn't brought my knives, trusting the in-house tools. Mistake. I have not shanked a piece of fish quite that badly in several years. I had to skin the salmon with the heel of my hand- a tricky technique I learned in New England from one of the other cooks at a restaurant I worked in during my Johnson & Wales years.

Last, demos. Chumaki, Hosomaki, Temaki, and Nigiri. And then I turned them loose to practice and eat their fill.

    While perhaps a little rough getting going, everyone was pleasant to one another, lots of useful tidbits were exchanged, lots of different ingredient combinations showed up, and everyone came away with smiles, full stomachs, and better understanding. 

Ultimately, that's worth the price of admission and then some.