White anchovies of love...

I've been gone for a long time. I know that. I feel bad. In fact, several times I have come back to this page, sincerely looked at the posting box, picked out a topic to write about, but then felt so overwhelmingly guilty about the length of time from my last post I left without writing anything. I have a similar relationship with hairdressers and the dentist. Somehow I always feel I'm going to have to do penance for my absence. So when my dear friend poked me about writing again, after I had been tossing around the idea of writing in my head again, I thought I would just plunge right in and do the Hail Marys (or is that Maries?).

I love anchovies. When I was a kid, my family would pile into the car and drive up to Michigan to visit my father's family. My dad was one of six kids. His oldest brother (whom I was named after) was over 20 years older than him (this thought makes my uterus cringe into a little ball). When we would arrive, all the crazy brothers and sisters and their kids would come over to my grandmother's house and they would laugh and talk and be loud and play cards, and drink tea and eat eggs, and, at a very late hour of the evening, order a pizza with everything, including ANCHOVIES. I remember sneaking down to eat a slice of pizza and the anchovies tasted like forbidden salty fruit. And I would then have to run up the scary stairs, past the boarded up butler pantry in the dark because my grandmother didn't believe in anything more than 40 watt bulbs in the house.

I distinctly remember my first white anchovy - it was at a restaurant in Columbus called Spagio on a ceasar salad about 8 years ago. It was nothing like I had ever tried before. They are not salty. They aren't "hairy." The flesh is firm and vinagar-y because they have been preserved in oil and vinegar rather than salt. The color is white. They are beautiful and tasty and I challenge anyone who does not like anchovies to try them at least once (as I did at my friend's house this weekend).

Alas, in this area, they are difficult to find. And they are expensive. Mr. H ordered me two bottles from Parthenon Foods and they are really lovely. I like them better than the last brand I had (don't ask me what they were). Shipping is what really kills you, although it's still cheaper than a two hour drive to a city that does have the little gems.

Candied Salmon II: You should have seen the papers I used to smoke these guys...

I thought I would follow up on my earlier candied salmon experiment.

Today I smoked my second batch of candied salmon with some slight variations to my first batch.

I used approximately 1/2 as much salt as the original recipe suggested. It made a huge difference in flavor, but did not seem to affect the quality of the fish. It may mean that it doesn't keep as long, but realistically, it doesn't keep long in my house anyway.

This time, I also basted the fish periodically with the honey-water mixture, as recommended by the recipe. I didn't do that with the first batch, and this addition gave the fish a little boost of sweetness and a beautiful lacquered look.

Miss Thing ate about a half a pound today.

And I used the left over brine (with a splash of added soy sauce) for some beef jerky. Have you ever had beef that tasted like candy? It tastes kind of like candied bacon. Again, Miss Thing ate as much as I would let her.

Jamón ibérico....

It was exactly three years ago that Mr. H and I were adventuring our way through Spain. It was our first time in Europe (not that we have been back again... yet), and we were traipsing our way in a country whose language we did not completely understand.

Jamón ibérico is similar to a prosciutto, but only produced in Spain and Portugal. The pigs eat acorns, which is part of the reason it has such a beautiful flavor.

Our very first meal there was Jamón ibérico. It was sliced thinly, and served on hard crusty bread with tomato oil. We came to a sandwich shop, and I made Mr. H stop because I really, really wanted to try this jamon I had heard so much about. He didn't get it at first, but after one bite.... In Spain, I don't think we went to a restaurant that did not serve it. Just about every restaurant legs of ham hung from the ceiling. I think we ate jamon every single day.

And because of this gluttony of ham, it made us even more sad when we found out that jamón ibérico was not available in the states. Three years ago, it was illegal to import it into the states. But trust me, I seriously, SERIOUSLY considered sneaking one of the legs into my carry on luggage.

I had heard that this ban had been lifted last year, but I had yet to see any.

Until Sunday.

Mr. H and I made a run to that city up north and stopped by the mecca of cheese and other tasty things, Zingermans. Which was where I saw the leg. And I nudged Mr. H and made a jamon comment, something like, "What does that remind you of... if only, right?" To which the guy behind the counter confirmed that it was indeed jamón ibérico. And would we like a taste? I begged Mr. H to say no, knowing that if we had a taste, we would end up buying some. It was expensive in spain, let alone imported to the states.

Two ounces. We ended up with two ounces of heaven.

Last night we ate gazpacho, a variety of cheeses and jamón ibérico. I wanted to cry.

Now if only I could find those fried peppers and fried fresh anchovies... And yes, I took a lot of pictures of ham while we were over there...

Salmon Candy

Mr. H is running in his first triathalon this weekend. He is one of those people who doesn't have to work out regularly to still be able to run a 7 minute mile. For 10 miles. Hell, probably for 20 miles. I, on the other hand, while I can run for a long time (if I so chose), at a dispairingly slow pace. My occasional trainer swears to me that I could become faster, but I remember even in high school, when I played field hockey, I was a solid 9 minute mile girl. So it's not surprising to me that in the *cough*15 or so *cough* years since then that I can't keep that pace. I still run, probably around 15 miles a week, but not that fast. (I do have something going for me, I am not wracked with leg cramps or back spasms like he is.)

Anyway, the whole family is piling into the car at an ungodly hour of the morning this weekend to be in that overrated city (although I still like it) by 6 am. Seriously. I'm going to bring my lounge chair and try to catch a nap.

As Mr. H is away on business tonight, I decided to work on a small protein present for him. Two batches of beef jerky, one of which I'm going to try to smoke on my smoker tomorrow, rather than just using the dehydrator. In addition, I'm experimenting with a batch of salmon candy.

Candied salmon is salmon that has been marinated/brined in a sweet brine, then hot smoked. Or at least, I believe that is what it is. We have been buying it from Whole Foods for as long as it was open. Miss Thing loves it. The only problem is the price, at $18 to $20 per pound, it is an expensive treat. Especially when the 5 year old would eat a pound of it herself. On our recent trip home, we bought a little stash of the stuff, but it just left me longing for more.

I decided to try my own version of candied salmon. Turns out, there are many recipes for the brine. Duh, I guess I just had to look for it.

I decided to use a recipe that included a lot of sugar and maple syrup. The recipe contained (what I thought to be) an awful lot of salt, but since this was my first time, I figured I should stick to the recipe. The brine makes a lot - much more than my 3 pounds of salmon needed.

I brined the chunks of salmon for about 24 hours, and then smoked them over hickory chips for about 3 hours. I still don't think I have the timing for the salmon right - I'm still not quite accustomed to deciding when a chunk is done. But for the most part, I think it turned out well. The fish was sweet, with a nice texture, and a good smokey flavor. Personally, I thought it was too salty, and next time I will not use so much salt. I apologize for not having a picture of the fish but I will get one as soon as I can.

On the upside of this adventure though, I made 3 pounds of candied salmon for about 18 dollars, rather than 19.99 a pound at that store! In addition, I threw the leftover brine with some of the beef that I was using for jerky in an attempt to persuade Miss Thing to like the stuff. I then smoked it. It tasted just like bacon!!!! She loved it.

Beef Turkey

It's not really beef turkey, but that is what the Marvelous Miss Thing calls it.

I love jerky, even though I'm not a big meat eater in general. I remember the first time I tried jerky. I was working in a family-run whole grain bread bakery. The bakers would come in at 2 am to start making the bread. By the time I got to the store after school, all the bread had been baked, and the bakers long gone. The store had this huge oven with shelves that rotated like a ferris wheel to bake the bread evenly. It was amazing, but it never really shut off (kind of like Lizzie, who always stays a little warm).

One of the bakers was also a hunter. When he had a successful season, he would make venison jerky on the off-day when they didn't bake. He would slide the pans into the oven, and it was my job to keep an eye on it while they dried. The whole back of the bakery would be filled with the smell of drying meat. It was fantastic.

I had never had jerky before, let alone venison (you want me to eat bambi?), so I was quite hesitant when he offered me that first slice. The first taste however, was so delicious - gamey, peppery, meaty. I was hooked. I used to sneak extra pieces out from the trays.

Since then, I have tried a lot of jerkies. The ones in the store are only good in moments of dried meat desperation. I have also tried several specialty outlets in the area. After eyeing the signs for Beef Jerky Unlimited we finally stopped for the first time last year (c'mon - a whole store of jerky? it sounded a little sketchy at first). They have a large selection of excellent jerky, including turkey and other game meats (although too expensive for my budget at the time). Also, Mom Wilson Sausage Mart on Rt 23 around Marion had good jerky. It's in the middle of no where, but a fun place to stop.

However, this past summer I purchased a dehydrator, in the hopes of making my own jerky. It isn't one of the fanciest machines, but it does have a top seated fan, and adjustable heat settings. With 5 trays, I can't make a full batch of jerky in one sitting, but I can easily make two batches in a day.

There are many theories about how to make jerky. First, there is the cut of meat. I have tried brisket (too tough) and flank steak (a little too fatty, and more expensive) before settling on our preferred round steak. London broil is also supposed to be a nice cut. Then, there is slicing technique - with or against the grain (or heaven forbid, ground and re-formed)? I choose mostly with the grain - I like the long strips, but still able to tear the stuff apart. Next, the seasoning. I use a marinade, however our friends, also jerky aficionadoes, use a dip method - the dip the meat in seasoning right before drying it.

So in your quest for jerky, you may have to explore some of these options.

I currently make two kinds of jerky - one that the Husband prefers, and one that I prefer. The Husband's preferred flavoring is Alton Brown's recipe (although not dried on the furnace filters). Alton's recipe is a classic jerky, but I also like a more asian flavor that really compliments the meat. This asian jerky is a little sweeter, with ginger and garlic.

Asian Beef Jerky

ingredients
1 tsp 5 spice powder
2 teaspoons crushed red pepper (or to taste)
1/2 cup soy sauce
1/4 cup honey
1/4 cup packed dark brown sugar
2 tablespoons black vinegar (or balsamic or rice wine)
1 tablespoon Worcestershire sauce
1/2 teaspoon ground black pepper
1 tbls garlic-chili paste
1 teaspoon Asian sesame oil
One 1-2 pound steak

directions

Partially freeze meat. After removing from freezer, slice meat very thin (1/4 inch) with the grain.

In a medium saucepan, combine the soy sauce with the honey, brown sugar, vinegar, Worcestershire sauce and salt and cook over low heat, stirring to dissolve the sugars. Stir in the 5 spice, crushed red pepper, garlic, ginger and sesame oil. Transfer to a medium bowl and let cool.

Pour marinade over beef (I use a big plastic bag for all of this). Marinade 6 hours to overnight. Dry meat either in food dehydrator according to directions, or in an oven on the lowest heat setting possible until dry but still pliable (somewhere between 2 and 12 hours, depending on how thick you cut the meat).

I still have jerky fantasies about the elusive venison jerky. I have tried to convince the Husband to go out and shoot me some deer, but up to this point, he has declined, citing some sort of misunderstood moral adversion to killing. I told him that I didn't care, I want venison jerky dammit. We have agreed to disagree, and I am currently still trying to find someone to barter for some venison meat.