How to Roast a Heritage Turkey

WilliamRubelWilliam Rubel (williamrubel.com) gives us the low-down on cooking a heritage turkey to perfection. Living in California, Rubel’s  two  books are ‘The Magic of Fire’, the book on hearth cooking, and most recently, ‘Bread’, a global history.

Whether you roast your heritage turkey in the oven, or spit- or string-roast it in front of a fire, there are some basic facts you ought to know about how to best handle heritage turkeys.

Heritage turkeys are different from the most common turkey of American commerce. It is helpful to know a little about them before cooking them for the first time.

The modern turkey was developed for a large breast — hence its name Broad Breasted White or Broad Breasted Bronze — and it was also selected fast growth on a high protein diet. Broad breasted turkeys reach marketable size after a few months, while heritage turkeys take much longer to reach marketable weight. Broad Breasted birds are often so heavy their own legs can’t property support them, so Broad Breasted birds tend to be sedentary. Variety, age, physical activity, and feed, are all factors that affect the taste and texture of the heritage turkey you buy.

While variety is a factor in the taste and texture of heritage turkeys, as a rule the turkey variety is not on the label. In any case, heritage turkeys are similar enough to make generalizations possible.

Basic qualities of heritage turkeys:

1. Smaller breast. The breast of heritage birds is smaller in proportion to the rest of the bird than is the breast of the Broad Breasted varieties. This means the balance between white and dark meat is more even that it is with commercial turkeys.

Implications for the cook: White meat is “done” before the dark meat is “done,” and so the closer the balance between white and dark meat, the easier it is to roast the entire bird to perfection.

Historically, cookbook authors suggested covering the breast of roasting turkeys with oiled paper until the bird was almost done, at which point the paper was removed. The instruction to put something over the turkey breast is found in Enlish cookbooks dating from the 17th century all the way up through English and American cookbooks to the early 1960’s, at which point the instruction seems to drop out of cookbooks.

If you cover the breast, I recommend sticking with the traditonal oiled paper rather than substituing alluminum foil. Foil doesn’t let any moisture out, and thus steams the breast in a way that paper does not. When you let water molecules escape through a covering of paper, or cloth, the flesh of the bird is chemically changed in a way that is different from what happens through steaming — which is the effect of sealing the breast with alluminium foil. If you want to cover the breast, then cut out a piece of brown paper from a shopping bag, rub it with cooking oil, and tie it in place with cotton string. Remove it about 30 minutes before the turkey is done.

In my own cooking style I do not cover the breast. Instead, I add additional fat to the breast meat by slipping fat, like butter or olive oil, under the skin over the breast. I will discuss a little, below, turkey should not be over-cooked. Cooking to a temperature that is lower than the current custom. If you cook your bird to 140F you will help insure that the meat is not dry. Always start roasting with a bird that is at room temperature.

2. Leaner birds: The fattest part of a mature heritage turkey is the skin that circled the neck.

Implications for the cook: Hot, quick cooking is a better approach to cooking lean birds than is slow cooking unless you add fat to the flesh which can be done by putting butter or olive oil under the skin, or even by larding with salted pork fat.

My advice, however, is to treat the bird more the way you would game birds — pheasant and ducks are both traditionally cooked hot. I roasted my first heritage turkeys — they were small turkeys (6 pounds each) in a bread oven at 630F for 35 minutes. They were perfect. I cooked them to 140F. I suggest roasting in a hot oven — 425F to 450F.

A second suggestion is to put fat under the skin of the turkey. Those of you familiar with my book, The Magic of Fire, know that I often favor slipping a paste of olive oil and pounded garlic and herbs under the skin of poultry. It is easy to slip oil and/or butter under the breast, and a little more difficult to get it over the leg and thigh. Slip your hand under the breast work it around as best you can. Putting fat under the skin makes the turkey self-basting. Because heritage turkeys have a mild flavor, slipping flavor under the skin with oil and butter as a carrier lets you easily produce a bird of memorable flavor.

2. Size: Heritage turkeys are generally smaller than commercial turkey varieties. Expect turkeys in the range of 9 to 15 pounds, although birds that are both smaller than 9 pounds, and larger than 15 pounds are available.

Implications for the cook: Roast the smaller birds hotter than the bigger birds. I would cook a 6-pound bird even as hot as 630F. A 9-pound bird you might cook at 475F — but no less than 450F. I would roast a 15-pound bird at 425F. I have not tested these other sizes in an oven — at home roast birds hanging from a string in front of my fire — so these temperatures are my best guess.

I know that if you ask around enough you are bound to run across people who will tell you the opposite — they will say to roast the birds slowly. What should you do in the face of conflicting advice? Do what you are most comfortable doing. If what you do doesn’t work out well — then do it differntly next time. As long as you keep an eye on what you are cooking you cannot really fail. If you are spit- or string-roasting in front of the fireplace then the timing depends on the heat of your fire. I tend to roast hot. My most recent times are a 10-pound stuffed turkey in about 1 1 /2 hours and a 15-pound unstuffed turkey in roughly 2 hours.

3. Flavor: As a rule, heritage turkeys have a more subtle, cleaner flavor than commercial turkeys. There is often less of what I have come to think of as a “turkey flavor.” Depending on the variety, and the way it was raised, the flavor may offer a hint of the wild side — or offer an almost blank palate for you to work with.

Implications for the cook: Historically, turkeys were served with a sauce, and it was the sauce, plus the meat, that constituted a serving of turkey. A light sauce made from the pan drippings is alway a good idea. Slipping flavors, herbs, garlic, and salt pounded up with olive oil or butter and slipped under the tukey’s skin is also often a good idea.

4. Aging the turkey: Wild turkeys — turkeys that are hunted — are always hung for a few days before being eaten. You can deepen the flavor of your heritage turkey, and make it more tender, by letting it age in your refrigerator. I have done this with small birds to excellent effect. The idea is to take the turkey out of whatever it might have been packaged in, remove any organs packed in the neck or stomach area, rinse it, and then hang the turkey in your refrigerator, uncovered. If you can’t hang it then let it rest on a platter, but turn it once a day so that no part of the turkey is always resting on the platter. Keep the platter dry — so wash off any fluids that might settle in the platter and then dry it before setting the turkey on it. I aged one of my turkeys this year for a week. My own refrigerator is an old one that frosts up. I have not tested aging a turkey in a frost-free refrigerator. Frost-free refrigerators tend to dry out whatever is stored in them, so this is something you would need to experiment with.

Implications for the cook: Smaller turkeys — under ten pounds — can sometimes be purchased for less than larger turkeys because there is less demand for them. In any case, if you are familiar with aging wild birds, like ducks, then age your heritage turkey in the same way because aging definitely adds a dimension to the roast turkey that cannot be added any other way.

5. Brining the turkey: I do not advise brining heritage turkeys. My own brining theory is to apply brine to secondary poultry — birds that have no flavor. Brine introduces water and salt into the flesh of the bird. This dilutes the natures flavors. While it is true that salt is a flavor enhancer, I think brining is a crude way to develop the flavor of a heritage turkey. I will also mention that the standard method by which birds are cooled after having been slaughtered in American slaughterhouses is to dip them in a bath of cold water. The birds may take up as much as 5% water by weight from this soaking. Letting the bird sit, unwrapped in a frost-free refrigerator of a day or two, see “Aging the turkey,” above, might actually improve flavor by removing some of this excess water.

Basic heritage turkey cooking principles

Starting Temperature
Until the last couple decades, it was assumed that meat was always brought to room temperature before roasting. The 1965 edition of the “Joy of Cooking” advises the turkey be room temperature — 70F — before being cooked. I think this is essential advice for all turkeys. If your turkey was frozen, defrost it in the refrigerator. A few hours before you plan to roast the bird, remove it from the refrigerator and let the bird come to room temperature. The deep flesh, not just the outer half-inch (1 cm), needs to be at or near room temperature before you roast it in order to achieve the best results. If the bird is at 34F (1C) in its interior parts when you start roasting it the breast will be dry long before the deep tissues are cooked.

Cooking temperature
Because heritage turkeys tend to have has little fat, I advise cooking them the way one cooks game birds — quickly. Roast in an oven at 425F to 450F. I have actually roasted small turkeys (6 pounds) in a bread oven at 630 degrees for 35 minutes. My most recent times string-roasting turkeys in front of the fireplace are a 10-pound stuffed turkey in about 1 1 /2 hours and a 15-pound unstuffed turkey in roughly 2 hours.

Finish temperature
Stuffing, if any, is cooked before it is put inside the bird. The stuffing, therefore, is only heated inside the bird, not cooked. If you do stuff a bird, for food safety reasons, stuff it just before roasting. While the USDA (United States Department of Agriculture) calls for cooking turkeys until the stuffing is 160F and the bird is 180F in the thigh, these  recommended temperatures are so high that you will dry out the turkey. I would roast a heritage turkey to 140F, and no more. As always, let the bird rest for at least ten minutes before carving.

A note on the cooking termperature: The USDA recommendation of 180F in the deepest part of the thigh and 160F in the stuffing is based on the government’s need to provide a general rule that will cover all health and safety eventualities, including the handling of the bird by people who have not observed basic hygenic princples, like washing their hands before handling the food.

As soon as you get your heritage bird home, take it out of its wrapping. If it arrived in the mail, unpack it and immediatly rinse it. Of course, wash your hands before handling the turkey. It is my understanding that the part of the bird that has the most pathogens is the skin. Even with an internal temperature of 140F the skin of the turkey will be above 220F, way over the temperature needed to sterlize the skin. One needs to balance USDA recommendations against what you know about the source of your meat and the way it was handled.

Eating is not risk-free — and I cannot assure you that my recipe is risk free. I can assure you, however, that a heritage turkey cooked to 140F in a fast oven will remain moist and delicious, while cooking the turkey to 180F is problematic in terms of the final culinary results.

Rediscovering Heritage Chicken

Gina Bisco takes us through a primer on the differences of heritage chicken versus commercial meat production. She delves into the differences the age of the bird makes and how to specifically cook heritage fowl for moist and tender meat.

Take a walk with Gina through the intricacies of production to the table in   “Rediscovering Traditional Meats from Historic Chicken Breeds”.

Excerpt:
The chicken meat most of us take for granted today is quite different from what our grandparents experienced. Today commercial chicken meat production is very different from methods and ideas common before the mid-20th century. Those of us who want to conserve old chicken breeds need to understand the traditional chicken meat classes and their excellent cooking qualities.

 

The Bold Flavors of Dried Mushrooms

Dried mushrooms are my kind of luxury, convenient and affordable. While caviar or foie gras rarely fit my mood or budget, I can always have dried shiitakes, porcini, morels, and chanterelles on hand. And I reach for them often—both on harried weeknights when the clock is ticking and also when I’m looking for an extra boost of flavor to elevate a special dish. The flavor of dried mushrooms is concentrated and intense, and the texture is good and meaty. Like fresh mushrooms, they’re terrific in everything from soups to sauces to sautés.

Give ’em a soak. Before using dried mushrooms in a recipe, even if it’s a soup or a stew, it’s best to rehydrate them in hot water. This is necessary for two reasons: First, it plumps up the mushrooms, and, as a bonus, the soaking liquid creates a flavorful broth, which you can incorporate into a dish much as you would any other kind of broth. Second, soaking also helps remove grit from the mushrooms that would otherwise spoil your dish.

Once the mushrooms have steeped, it’s easy to add them to braises, stews, or sauces. What I do is brown the meat or fish (if there’s any in the dish) and then sauté the rehydrated mushrooms with the aromatics like shallots, garlic, or onion. Because they’re moist, the mushrooms don’t exactly brown, but this quick toss in hot oil really intensifies their flavor. Finally, I add the mushroom soaking liquid and finish cooking the dish.

The way I see it, there’s no set rule for which mushroom to pair with a specific dish. It makes sense to look to the mushroom’s native region, using Italian porcini in risotto, shiitakes in Asian dishes, and chanterelles in French sauces and bistro classics like omelettes. But I often mix shiitakes with other kinds of mushrooms, particularly when I’m using a pricey variety like morels. It’s a little trick of mine. Shiitakes’ flavor perfectly complements that of other mushrooms, and their affordability keeps the meal in the realm of simple, home cooking, just where it belongs.

Shiitakes

Versatile, affordable dried shiitakes are my go-to mushroom. Their meaty texture and smoky flavor is great on its own or paired with other varieties. Shiitakes are an obvious choice for Asian dishes, filling out soy-based braises or stews or perking up quick stir-fries.

Look for shiitakes with thick brown caps ridged with white. The stems can be woody, so trim them off and discard after soaking.

Porcini

Chewy, succulent, and intensely flavorful, dried porcini (or cèpes) have a deep, earthy essence that complements Italian seasonings and is delicious with pork and chicken.

Porcini (pronounced pour-CHEE-nee) have thick stems and broad caps and are generally sliced before they’re dried. After rehydrating them, you can use them just as you would fresh mushrooms.

Chanterelles

The golden, apricot hue of chanterelles befits their bright, fruity flavor. Their size can vary from tiny blossom-like specimens to impressive 5-inch trumpets, and in the dried form, they can be quite pricey. When rehydrated, their texture is pleasantly chewy; the stems, however, can be woody, so after soaking, trim off tough stems and discard them. Pair chanterelles with eggs and cream sauces.

Morels

Nutty, buttery, and somewhat smoky, dried morels go beautifully with spring ingredients like asparagus and spring onions (or ramps, if you can find them). The hollow, honeycombed caps of wild morels can harbor sandy grit. With cultivated varieties this isn’t as much of a problem, but to be on the safe side, it’s a good idea to rinse morels with water before soaking them.

Simple ways to use dried mushrooms

When you have dried mushrooms in the pantry,  there are lots of quick and simple ways to use them in your everyday cooking. Once you rehydrate them, they can go just about anywhere fresh mushrooms can go.

• Stir them into pilafs and other rice dishes.
• Add them to tomato or cream-based pasta sauces.
• Spoon them onto polenta.
• Stir them into pan sauces for chops and cutlets.
• Add them to stir-fries.
• Sauté with green beans or snap peas.
• Add them to eggs: Sauté rehydrated dried mushrooms with shallots and butter and fold into omelets, frittatas, or scrambled eggs.
• Make flavored butter: Pulse rehydrated morels or chanterelles with softened butter and a fresh herb like thyme in a food processor. Use right away or shape into a log, wrap in plastic, and refrigerate. Pats of the butter are delicious on roasted or grilled meats and vegetables.

How to soak dried mushrooms

Put the mushrooms in a medium heatproof bowl. For Leek & Morel Strata, Wild Mushroom Ragoût, and Risotto with Peas & Porcini, pour in 2 cups boiling water and weight down the mushrooms with a small plate so the mushrooms are submerged. (If you’re using smaller or larger amounts of mushrooms, just use enough water to completely submerge them.)

Soak until they’re plumped and softened, about 20 minutes (some varieties might take longer). Use a slotted spoon to transfer the mushrooms to a cutting board, squeezing any excess liquid from the mushrooms back into the soaking liquid. Let cool. Remove and discard any tough stems. Coarsely chop the mushrooms. Strain the soaking liquid through a coffee filter or paper towel set in a sieve. Set aside the mushroom “broth” for use in your dish or freeze for another time.

 

Excerpt from: Fine Cooking by Tony Rosenfeld; Photos by Scott Phillips

 

 

Prairie Plate: A Sustainable Restaurant

SoupThe first thing I noticed when I walked in the doors of Prairie Plate Restaurant, Waverly’s new farm-to-table restaurant, was the way the light inhabited the room, drawing you to the lake view that lay just beyond the windows.

Renee Cornett, head chef and owner of Prairie Plate, greets me at the door and begins to dive into the history of the land. She and her husband, Jerry Cornett, run Lakehouse Farm, a certified organic farm situated roughly fifty yards from the front door of the restaurant. After they started their farm in 2011, they began renovations on the house down by the lake for the restaurant that would eventually open its doors on April 2, 2014.

While their setup and concept for the restaurant would lead you to believe they had lived a lifetime as farmers, their background tells a more unique story.

Renee grew up in Maryland, graduating from the US Naval Academy with a major in mathematics. She served eleven years in the US Navy, the majority as a naval aviator, before retiring in 2001 and attending culinary school at Metropolitan Community College.

Jerry hails from Omaha. He earned a degree in political science from the University of Nebraska at Omaha and then joined the US Navy. Also a naval aviator, his career spanned twenty-one years, including serving as the defense attaché at the US Embassy in Albania, retiring in 2011 with the rank of commander.

When I ask them how they wound up in the farming and restaurant business, they laugh. This is not the first time someone has asked them this question.

“In some ways it doesn’t matter what you do, everybody eats,” Renee says.

She has cooked all her life—for friends, roommates, and her family, including their two children. As Jerry’s retirement approached, they were looking for the next steps. Their life in the Navy had taken them all over the world, including time spent in northern Italy. It was there that the concept of a farm-to-table restaurant formulated.

“You see concepts like this in Europe, northern Italy, even Albania,” Jerry said, “People would travel out into the country to the farm to have a meal that focused on what they grew there.”

In Italy, this concept is called agriturismo.

For the last five to six years of Jerry’s career, they would gather inspiration from restaurants around the world.

Their seasonal menu changes from week to week, depending on what is growing at that moment. Lakehouse Farm grows sixty to seventy different varieties of vegetables and fruit. The items they don’t have on their farm—primarily meat, dairy, and grains—are purchased from local farmers and suppliers. For instance, on the current week’s menu, they featured beef from Range West Beef in Marquette, pork from Erstwhile Farm in Columbus, cheese from Branched Oak Dairy in Raymond, and grains from The Grain Place in Marquette.

As she talks about the logistics of starting up a local food restaurant, Renee’s background in mathematics begins to show.

“You start doing the math. If you’re going to buy local food to start with, local products, how can you make the math work to make it so you don’t have to charge more than people want to come for? And so you start working through some of that,” she says, “I don’t have to truck it in, I know it’s fresh.”

“We want to showcase the region’s ingredients,” Jerry says

The Cornetts are also committed to running both their farm and restaurant as sustainably as possible.

“If we have choices, as much as possible, we try to pick one that’s lighter on the environment, that fits with the rest of the philosophy of what we’re doing. If we can avoid using a light fixture and use a sky light,” Renee smiles and gestures to the other room, “we did that.”

On their farm they practice sustainable farming by using drip irrigation, covered crops, contour farming, crop rotation, and a transplant system where plants begin in their greenhouse before being transplanted to the ground. Additionally, they also compost the kitchen scraps from the restaurant to mix into their soil.

So what incentive does this restaurant have that draws people up from the city?

“From the farm, through the kitchen, to your table,” Renee recites their restaurant motto, “It’s the connection to the place—food from the place—it’s closer to where it started. It’s going to taste better because of that. All the other things—it’s healthier, the economic impact, and all that—everybody is going to have their own section of that discussion that’s important to them, but the ‘tastes better’ is always important to everybody.”

Jerry took me on a tour of the farm, showed me where the food is grown, walked me around the lake as he told me more about the history of how the farm came to be. The sun was about to set, and I left with plans to return the following evening to sample the menu.

It was an even more beautiful evening when I came back. I had snagged the best table in the house, situated in a small alcove of a bay window on the southeast side of the building. This place is a birder’s paradise. Hundreds of birds swoop down, gliding a feather’s width away from the calm, pristine surface of the lake.

The restaurant’s menu is divided into courses: first course, second course, and dessert. Each course provides several options to choose from. They also offer a variety of wines and beers, as well as French press coffee from Cultiva in Lincoln.

What is most important to note about the food is the fact that no flavor is overpowering in any of the dishes. The combinations of flavors work to each other’s favor, and everything is seasoned and salted to perfection.

The Lakehouse Farm Salad is made up of whatever variety of lettuce is best on any given day. From there, Renee adds vinaigrettes and garnishes that compliment the particular type of lettuce available that day. On this particular day, it was garnished with cheese and sunflower seeds and served with slice of bread.

The asparagus and quark soup is also a specialty first course item. Quark is a soft, spreadable cheese that is most common in Germany and other areas of Europe. Branched Oak Dairy Farm provides the quark, which compliments the asparagus for a very satisfying soup. It is garnished with a slice of bread and a halved asparagus tip.

The wilted spinach and feta salad was my favorite of the ones I tried. The spinach was done perfectly—still slightly crunchy but wilted just enough to add that warm spinach flavor combined with garlic and oil. The feta, also from Branched Oak Dairy Farm, was a perfect compliment.

I tried each of the main courses that were available that evening.

First up were the chard rolls. This was the vegetarian option for the evening and was a wonderful surprise. The chard rolls are filled with brown rice and sweet potato and are served over sorrel sauce with a side of asparagus.

The house hickory smoked brisket was served with a side of grilled polenta and roasted asparagus. The meat was very tender. The smoky flavor of the meat married well with the polenta.

The pork chop with rhubarb sauce was my favorite of the three main course dishes I tried. While I don’t traditionally think of a rhubarb sauce on pork, the semisweet sauce really brought out the best of the pork. The dish came with a side of barley and sweet potato pilaf garnished with chive flowerets that provided a beautiful splash of color and a strikingly wonderful flavor.

Two desserts were offered that evening: a rhubarb tart and a hubbard spice cake.

The rhubarb tart was beautiful in appearance; it looked like it belonged in the window of a pastry store in France rather than in Waverly, Nebraska. It was the perfect balance between tart and sweet—just like rhubarb dishes should be.

The hubbard spice cake was the dessert winner for me. The day before, Renee had shown me all about blue hubbard squash. As I helped her carry them from their storage to the kitchen, she explained how they were versatile, like a pumpkin. They are a pale blue-green on the outside and bright orange on the inside. When I saw this on the menu, I jumped at the chance to try it. It didn’t disappoint—still slightly warm from the oven, it was moist and spiced to perfection.

I left, content with having tried something new. And that’s what the farm-to-table experience is all about.

Jerry says it best.

“It’s an experience. It’s not just the food and it’s not just the place. It’s the food AND the place.”

He’s right about that. Prairie Plate is the place where you can come enjoy the beautiful Nebraska scenery and eat the finest dishes with ingredients grown and raised locally. It’s the taste of Nebraska distilled into the food on your plate.

From the farm, through the kitchen, to your table.

Prairie Plate is open Wednesday through Saturday 5–9 p.m., Sunday 12–5 p.m., from April through mid-November. The menu is constantly changing throughout the season, so check their website for weekly menus. A three-course meal plus coffee will run you around $35–43 but will be worth every penny.

Originally published in the June 2014 issue of Prairie Fire. Story by Sara Sawatski.

Angel Food Cake (100% Scratch)

angelfoodcakeDo you want an extra-special treat? Try a baked-100 percent-from-scratch angel food cake!

Homemade angel food cake is definitely worth the work. It is moist, unlike the sweet styrofoam available in the grocery bakery.

Ingredients for a 10 inch cake:

  • 1 1/2 cups egg whites
    Hint: separate when cold; beat at room temperature
  • 1 teaspoon cream of tartar
  • 1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
  • 1/2 teaspoon almond extract
  • 1 1/4 cups cake flour
  • 1 3/4 cups white sugar
  • 1/4 teaspoon salt


Directions:

  1. Beat egg whites until they form stiff peaks, and then add cream of tartar, vanilla extract, and almond extract.
  2. Sift together flour, sugar, and salt. Repeat five times.
  3. Gently combine the egg whites with the dry ingredients, and then pour into an ungreased 10 inch tube pan. NOTE: A tube pan with a removable bottom is highly recommended.
  4. Place cake pan in a cold oven. Turn the oven on; set it to 325 degrees F (165 degrees C). Cook for about one hour, or until cake is golden brown.
  5. Invert cake, and allow it to cool in the pan. When thoroughly cooled, remove from pan.

 

Recipe by Syd, allrecipes.com

Sliced Filet Mignon with Fava Beans, Radishes, and Mustard Dressing

FiletMignonFavaBeans
This is a sure winner!
Adding large, bright pink watermelon radishes look and taste great here.

Ingredients

  • 3 tablespoons apple cider vinegar
  • 2 teaspoons country-style Dijon mustard
  • 1/4 cup extra-virgin olive oil
  • 2 cups fresh fava beans (from about 2 pounds fresh pods) or frozen double-peeled, thawed
  • 10 medium radishes, very thinly sliced
  • 1/4 cup chopped fresh herbs, such as tarragon, basil, thyme, and parsley
  • 1 tablespoon butter
  • 1 tablespoon canola oil
  • 4  5- to 7-ounce filet mignon steaks
  • 1/3 cup crumbled goat’s milk feta cheese

Preparation

Whisk vinegar and mustard in small bowl. Gradually whisk in olive oil. Season to taste with salt and pepper. (Dressing can be made 1 day ahead. Cover and chill.)

Cook fava beans in large pot of boiling salted water until tender, about 2 minutes. Transfer to bowl of ice water to cool. Drain and peel (if using fresh). Transfer to paper towels to dry. Place fava beans, radishes, herbs, and dressing in medium bowl; toss to coat. Season with salt and pepper. Let salad stand at room temperature at least 20 minutes and up to 1 hour.

Melt butter with canola oil in heavy large skillet over high heat. Sprinkle steaks with salt and pepper. Add steaks to skillet and cook to desired doneness, about 4 minutes per side for medium-rare. Transfer to cutting board; let stand 10 minutes. Cut each steak into 3 slices.

Divide salad among 4 plates. Arrange 1 sliced steak atop each salad. Sprinkle some of cheese over each and serve.

 

Courtesy of Epicurious.com

Smothered Pork Chops

Cookbook
Recipes

In this beloved southern recipe, meaty bone-in pork chops are literally smothered in vegetables and broth, then simmered until the vegetables have melted into a sauce tailor-made for spooning over rice.

Ingredients:

  • 4 bone-in pork loin chops, each about 1 inch thick
  • Kosher salt and freshly ground pepper, to taste
  • 2 Tbs. vegetable oil
  • 2 Tbs. unsalted butter
  • 1 yellow onion, cut into 1-inch pieces
  • 1 red bell pepper, seeded and cut into 1-inch pieces
  • 3 celery stalks, cut into 1-inch pieces
  • 4 green onions, thinly sliced, white and light green portions separated
  • 3 garlic cloves, minced
  • 1 tsp. minced fresh thyme
  • 3 Tbs. all-purpose flour
  • 2 1/2 cups chicken broth
  • 1/4 cup heavy cream
  • 1 tsp. hot sauce, plus more for serving
  • Steamed rice for serving

Directions:

Season the pork chops with salt and pepper. In a large electric skillet set on medium-high heat, warm the oil. Add the chops and cook, turning once, until browned on both sides, about 3 minutes per side. Transfer to a plate.

Reduce the heat to medium and melt the butter in the skillet. Add the onion and cook, stirring occasionally and scraping up the browned bits from the pan bottom, until the onion is translucent, 3 to 5 minutes. Add the bell pepper, celery, the white portion of the green onions and the garlic. Cover and cook, stirring occasionally, until the vegetables are tender, about 8 minutes. Add the thyme and flour and stir well. Gradually stir in the broth and bring to a simmer.

Return the pork chops to the skillet and reduce the heat to medium-low. Cover and simmer for 10 minutes, then turn the chops over, cover and simmer until the pork shows no sign of pink when pierced at the bone, about 10 minutes more. Transfer the chops to a deep platter and cover loosely with aluminum foil.

Stir the cream into the gravy in the skillet and bring to a boil. Cook until thickened, about 4 minutes. Stir in the green portion of the green onions and the 1 tsp. hot sauce and season with salt. Pour the gravy over the pork chops and serve immediately with steamed rice. Pass more hot sauce at the table. Serves 4.

Adapted from Williams-Sonoma Comfort Food, by Rick Rodgers (Oxmoor House, 2009).