Saturday, June 22, 2019

One Fish, Two Fish: Sometimes Costco is Better Than Your Friends

Back when I was working as a career counselor, I had a lot of conversations with people about the importance of being able to visualize exactly what it was that one was looking for. A resume is important, a LinkedIn account helps you reach people, networking, yada yada - but if you don't know what it is that you're looking for, you're not going to be able to ask people to give it to you or recognize it when it comes your way.

I feel that way about fish, too.

I know a fair number of outdoorsy-type people, or at least people who profess to love hunting and fishing and have all the requisite equipment. I have, at various times, requested venison, bear, turkey, duck, rabbit, and/or any kind of fish whatsoever. Never once have I gotten any of these. However, Hope Springs Eternal and I will continue to ask. Surely, SURELY someone must be catching fish these days?!?!

When your outdoorsy friends don't come through for you, sometimes Costco will. While I'm not holding my breath for a haunch of bear at the local warehouse store, I do stroll through the fish coolers periodically and do a wee bit of impulse buying, which is how I recently ended up with quite a large amount of catfish recently.

Here's how it went in my head: Oooh, catfish! Yum! First I'll make this lovely Lee Brothers catfish pate and serve it to guests while David's birthday dinner is cooking, along with all these other delightful appetizers. Then I'll make this scrumptious Caesar salad with catfish croutons during the week - we love our dinner salads! - and round it out with some fish tacos with all the trimmings.

Here's how it really went: Oooh, bourbon! Batch cocktails! My part in cooking David's birthday dinner is done so I'll just have a wee nip with our guests. Five hours later: Now that everyone is gone and we've torn through all the bourbon and put a hurt on the wine, this catfish pate sounds perfect as a midnight snack - best of all, I don't have to share! (evil laughter) Three days later: Wow, that's a lot of catfish in the fridge. I should do something with it.

Naturally, the Lee Brothers have come to the rescue once again, with Fish Man's Fish Stew. Have I told you about the Lee Brothers? They're on my personal bucket list of People I Want To Meet, a couple of Yankee boys who got transplanted to the South during their teenage years and fell in love with the food. Some years ago I was lunch at Zingerman's Roadhouse with my BFF from grad school, and thanks to an upcoming event there was a display of Lee Brothers cookbooks handy. I was browsing through one while waiting for our lunch and the waiter offered to have a copy signed for me at the upcoming event. A week later I got the book in the mail, beautifully wrapped and with an actual personalized message, not just a scrawled signature (not that there's anything wrong with that, mind you) that inspires me to hospitality every time I read it. Let's also give a great big customer service shout-out to the Zingerman's waiter, who - ok, yes, made a sale - but also went out of his way to make sure I got this book that I have since fallen in love with - hard. I cook from it more than any non-Mark Bittman cookbook I own, and I've never once been disappointed in any recipe from them since. In an alternate life, I get to have dinner with them sometimes.

So, here are two recipes for catfish, and I promise that neither will disappoint. Both are taken, with very teeny adjustments, from The Lee Bros. Southern Cookbook, the book that also brought sour orange mojitos, pickled shrimp, and pimento cheese into my life.

Lee Brothers Catfish Pate 


1 cup plus 1 tbsp dry white wine
1 cup chicken broth
2 bay leaves
3/4 lb catfish fillets
1/2 red onion, thinly sliced
1 tbsp olive oil
8 oz cream cheese, at room temperature
1 tbsp capers
1/2 tsp Tabasco, Durkee Red Hot, or Sriracha
1 tsp cognac, bourbon, or dark rum
1/2 tsp freshly ground black pepper
1/4 tsp kosher salt


In a medium skillet, bring the cup of wine, broth, and bay leaves to a simmer. Add the catfish and poach, uncovered, for about 10 minutes, flipping once halfway through.

Meanwhile, heat the oil in a small skillet and cook the onion until soft but not brown, about 6 minutes.

When the fish is done, chop it coarsely, then drain in a fine strainer, pressing once or twice to release all the liquid.

Cut the cream cheese into pieces, add it to a bowl with the remaining ingredients and the chopped fish, and mix well with a fork. Refrigerate at least one hour or overnight before serving with crackers or toast and lemon wedges.


Fish Stew Man's Red Fish Stew


1/4 lb bacon, diced
1 1/2 lbs Yukon Gold or other waxy potatoes, peeled and sliced into 1/4-inch thick moons
2 cups chopped yellow onion
1 1/2 cups broth (ideally fish or shrimp, but I used chicken)
1 cup full-bodied white wine
3 bay leaves
1 28-oz can whole peeled tomatoes
1 tsp kosher salt
1/2 tsp freshly ground black pepper
2 tsp mustard seeds, ground to fine powder with a mortar and pestle (or cheat and use mustard powder)
2 tsp whole coriander seeds, toasted and ground etc etc (see above re: cheating)
1 tbsp brown sugar
2 tsp Worcestershire sauce
2 tbsp ketchup
1 1/2 lbs flaky white fish, cut into 1 1/2-inch chunks
1/2 cup half and half
1 cup fresh corn kernels, cut from the cob (about 2 ears) 


Brown the bacon in a Dutch oven, then remove to a small bowl and pour off all but 2 tbsp of the fat. Add the potatoes and cook in the bacon fat for about 5 minutes, stirring occasionally to prevent sticking. Add the onion and cook until they begin to soften, about 5 minutes.

Add the broth, wine, and bay and bring to a simmer. Cook until the liquid is reduced by about a quarter, 10 minutes or less. Add the tomatoes and their juice, crushing each tomato lightly. When it comes back to a simmer, reduce the heat to low, cover, and cook about 20 minutes.

Add the salt, pepper, mustard, coriander, sugar, Worcestershire sauce, and ketchup and cook an additional 10 minutes or until the potatoes are completely tender.

Add the fish and simmer another 5 minutes. Add the half and half and corn and simmer 5 minutes. Adjust the seasoning if needed with salt, pepper, and/or Worcestershire sauce.

Serve over hot white rice and garnish with the bacon.




Monday, June 17, 2019

Kill the Rhubarb


It’s been a year with lots of milestones for our family, and we finally wrapped up 5 non-stop weeks of celebrating various things with a birthday/last day of school dinner: flank steak marinated in soy sauce and bourbon, some really fantastic grits, David’s famous collard greens, broiled acorn squash, and of course, David’s favorite dessert.

I can’t believe I’ve never blogged this recipe, as it’s a summertime staple for us. It originally came from the July 1997 issue Gourmet magazine and is officially called Doris Gulsvig’s Rhubarb Crunch (it was a reader submission)(and bless you Doris, wherever you are, everyone loves me when I make this), but in our house it’s always been Kill the Rhubarb.

About a million years ago, AKA pre-kids, we were up north with friends of ours. My father-in-law had brought a big bag of rhubarb from the plant in his yard and was delighted that I had a recipe that didn’t “ruin the rhubarb with strawberries.”  Everyone else was watching Looney Tunes while I was prepping dessert and “What’s Opera, Doc?” came on. While Elmer Fudd was bellowing “Kill the wabbit!” I was apparently chopping in time to the music, and thus this dish was renamed. And of course, I have to sing this - with great gusto - every time I make it. And I’ll bet that it’s in your head now too. You’re welcome.

Kill the Rhubarb


1 ½ lb rhubarb
1 stick butter, melted
¾ cup sugar
2 Tbsp cornstarch
1 cup water
½ tsp salt
½ tsp vanilla
1 cup flour (GF blend is fine)
¾ cup rolled oats
1 cup packed light brown sugar
1 tsp cinnamon

Preheat the oven the 350 and grease a 13x9 baking pan.

Trim the rhubarb and cut into ½-inch pieces (roughly 5 cups). Arrange the rhubarb evenly in the baking pan.

In a small saucepan, stir together the sugar, cornstarch, water, and half the salt. Bring the mixture to a boil and simmer, stirring, until thickened and clear, about 3 minutes. Stir in the vanilla and pour the mixture over the rhubarb.

Stir together the flour, oats, brown sugar, cinnamon, butter and remaining salt until the mixture resembles coarse meal. Sprinkle evenly over the rhubarb.

Bake 1 hour or until the rhubarb is tender and the top is crisp and golden. Cool for about 15 minutes before serving or the top of your mouth will be burned by the delicious liquid hot magma hiding under the oats; should you find yourself unable to wait that long, a large scoop of vanilla ice cream will go a long way towards alleviating your distress.



Sunday, June 9, 2019

Ain't No Party Like a Slow Cooker Party: Pork Carnitas


This has been a season with lots of milestones for our family – a significant birthday for my daughter, my son’s Coming of Age ceremony at church, my husband’s thesis defense and graduation, 8th grade promotion – plus all the usual end-of-the-school-year activities, sports practices, etc. Every parent I know has some version of this going on right now. And it’s not a complaint; these *are* celebrations, after all, and we certainly love a good party around here.

If we celebrated everything individually, I would just invite half my family to move in since they’d be here all the time anyway. Given the limits of my familial affection we’ve smooshed a few things together, glossed over a few others, and tried to make the remaining events as stress-less as possible. Coming of Age presented a particular challenge, since we had to be at church that morning and lunch was at our house immediately afterwards. How do you serve up a taco bar that caters to everyone’s tastes, leaves the kitchen clean enough to serve lunch buffet-style, and doesn’t leave anyone languishing hungrily while the food is cooked? The marvelous, magical slow cooker, of course. (This event used 4.)

David and I have mostly agreed to disagree on the matter of slow cooker food. He thinks it all turns into dried-out, de-flavorized mush, and I indignantly point out a whole list of tasty things he didn’t even realize came from the slow cooker. (The key is to make sure your insert isn’t too big for your food – the marvelous Stephanie ODea recommends filling the insert 2/3 – ¾ full.) And while I’ll agree that there’s nothing at all as tasty as a big hunk of pork cooked slowly over applewood chips, ain’t nobody got that kind of time around here. 

While you can just throw some Boston butt in and call it a day, a little extra effort up front makes all the difference in the end result; and if your guests are used to getting the high-effort version of meals at your house, they’re going to assume that’s what you did this time. If they did realize it took 5 minutes of actual effort, they’d applaud your new, more relaxed approach to entertaining because they love you and want you to be happy and get some sleep sometimes and also this really is marvelous. And then you won’t even have to hide the cake mix boxes.

Slow Cooker Carnitas


4-5 lb Boston butt, trimmed and cut into 3” chunks
1 tablespoon oil
1 bottle of beer (we used Daura Damm, a surprisingly tasty gluten-free lager)(David just told me he used a bottle of hard cider instead yesterday)(also very tasty)
1 large white onion, diced (David skipped this when he made it, but anyone who has picky eaters vs. dietary restrictions should just put them in anyway because the picky people aren’t going to notice them)
5 cloves garlic, minced
1 chipotle in adobo, chopped, plus 1 teaspoon sauce from the can (adds flavor, not heat)
2 ½ teaspoons cumin
1 teaspoon chili powder (seriously, it’s not going to turn out spicy)
1 ½ teaspoons kosher salt
1 teaspoon black pepper


Heat the oil in a large skillet over high heat. Working in batches, sear the pork until it’s nicely browned on all sides and put in the slow cooker. Add the rest of the ingredients and cook on low for 6-8 hours or until the pork pulls apart easily with two forks.

Preheat your broiler and cover two baking sheets with aluminum foil. Shred the pork and divide it evenly between the pans. Ladle about ¼ cup of the broth from the slow cooker over the meat.

Broil the pan for about 5 minutes, toss, and ladle another ¼ cup of broth over the top. Broil again and add a little more broth. Repeat with the second pan. You’ll get some nice little charred bits here and there but the pork will be incredibly tender and juicy – perfect for tacos!

This held beautifully in the slow cooker for a few hours and the leftovers were excellent, not a bit of dried-out meat anywhere in sight. The original recipe calls for pickled red onions and jalapenos plus a chipotle sour cream and I have no doubt they are completely fantastic; if you’re so inclined, please check out the original recipe. Since I’m the only person who can/will eat either of these it didn’t seem worth the effort to make them with dinner last night, and during the party we had so many taco trimmings it seemed like overkill (yes, even I can recognize too much of a good thing sometimes). The leftovers from yesterday are going into a tamale pie for later this week, since the June madness continues unabated and having dinner made in advance seems very practical.