Good Lord, You're Still Eating Peaches? Rice Pudding with Ginger, Cardamom, and yes, Peaches

I'm a Peach Truck addict. 

There. I've said it. I'm normally pretty indifferent to peaches, it being so hard to find decent ones in the grocery store and so hard to get out of bed in time to find a parking spot at the farmer's market. So it's no wonder that I went and ordered a SECOND 25 pounds of peaches from the Peach Truck. I clearly didn't get enough of them the first time around! 

Not an actual photo of my kitchen counter - this year

This time I'm lucky I got any at all, since John has discovered he loves them and packed away at least 10 pounds on his own. I managed to do some canning (pickled peaches and cardamom peach jam, in case you're wondering), or otherwise the rest of us might not have gotten any at all. I spared my family the peaches-with-dinner-every-night thing this time around; we'll be enjoying the canned ones through the winter, until I can get my hands on more Georgia peaches. Pretty sure I'll be ordering 3 boxes next year.....  

Rice pudding seemed like a good ending to our week of Caribbean food. It's not authentic in any way - at least not that I can tell - but the coconut and cardamom seem on-brand, and ginger is good with everything. And of course, the peaches. 

From the Peach Truck website, which is chock-full of good recipes.

Rice Pudding with Ginger, Cardamom, and Peaches 

1-inch piece fresh ginger, peeled and smashed 
2 cardamom pods, crushed 
1 can unsweetened coconut milk 
Enough half and half to fill the coconut milk can 
½ cup arborio rice 
¼ cup light brown sugar or honey 
½ tsp kosher salt 
2 large peaches, chopped 
1 tsp vanilla extract 

Combine all the ingredients in a large saucepan (one with high sides – ask me how I know that coconut milk tends to boil over). Bring to a boil over medium high heat. Reduce the heat to a simmer and cover, leaving a very small space open (ask me how I know that coconut milk boils over) and cook 15-20 minutes or until the rice is soft. 

Cook a little longer, uncovered and stirring frequently, until the pudding is as thick as you like. Remember it will thicken up when it gets cold. 

If you can find them, remove the ginger and cardamom pods. If not, warm everybody when you serve it.

Puerto Rican Chicken is Fricasseein' Awesome

The plantains I bought for Caribbean Week STILL haven't ripened, so I resorted to looking through my one and only Puerto Rican cookbook for something other than mofongo to make for dinner. I'd been in the kitchen all day and was feeling kind of cranky, so I wanted something that wasn't fussy or a lot of work but was still going to round out the week on a high note. I chose this particular recipe entirely on the basis of having all the ingredients, a strategy that hasn't always been successful for me, and the lack of effort required to get everything into the pot. One of the great advantages of having 2 prep cooks around the house is that the pile of veggies I don't want to touch seems like (dare I say it?) small potatoes to them. Haha! See what I did there? 'Small potatoes...' 

It's funnier in person. 

I have to admit up front that the kind of things I have laying around my pantry and fridge are not necessarily things that normal people have laying around. However: every single thing here can be found at Kroger, even the salt pork (which is in the refrigerated section by the bacon). I subbed some pre-chopped Hormel ham bits for the lean cured ham the original recipe calls for, because I'm not above taking shortcuts; and in the absence of a whole cut-up chicken - which cannot be found anywhere this week - I used bone-in chicken thighs. 

The only advice I have here is to make sure your pan is large enough to fit everything in a single layer. The last thing you want to do with a nice hands-off dish like this is fuss around trying to make sure that everything cooks evenly. And prepare yourself: an argument broke out over the last of the potatoes. Next time I make this I'll probably double it in the hopes that we actually end up with leftovers. 

Adapted slightly from Puerto Rican Cookery by Carmen Aboy Valldejuli

Chicken Fricassee 

2 1/2 pounds bone-in chicken pieces
1 oz salt pork, diced
2 oz ham, diced
1 teaspoon oregano
2 cloves garlic, chopped
1 onion, chopped
2 bell peppers, seeded and chopped
2 jalapenos, seeded and chopped
*
1 teaspoon capers
1 Tbsp vinegar
2 bay leaves
1/4 cup raisins
8 pitted prunes
1/2 cup tomato sauce
1 Tbsp salt 
1 lb potatoes, peeled and cubed 
*
1 bag frozen green peas, thawed 
2 Tbsp butter

Heat 1 Tbsp oil in a large skillet or Dutch oven and brown the salt pork and ham, stirring occasionally. Reduce the heat to low, add the ingredients through the jalapenos, and saute for 10 minutes.

Add the chicken pieces and cook for 2 - 3 minutes over moderate heat. Add the ingredients through the potatoes and mix. Add 2 1/2 cups of water to the pan, then bring to a boil. Reduce the heat to moderate, cover, and cook for 45 minutes.

Add the butter and peas and cook over moderate heat until the sauce thickens. 

The Mid-Week Run Down: Caribbean Fish Stew

 

This week’s food adventures cook us to the Caribbean, because we’re really looking forward to our cruise in March and I’m absolutely determined to try something I’ve actually eaten before on one of our ports of call. I’m flying blind here with the menu planning for the week – the only food I recall eating on our last trip was mofongo, at a little café in Puerto Rico in which I didn’t recognize ANYTHING on the menu. (I was absolutely delighted and tried to order everything; fortunately I was with 4 other people so we made significant inroads. I also have a bag of plantains sitting on my kitchen counter so who knows? Maybe I’ll take a stab at mofongo as well.)

I like to cook things I’ve never had (or heard of). I must be an optimist, since this is actually kind of bold (presumptuous?) of me. What if I get everything completely wrong? What if it sucks? What if I’m actually a bad cook who can’t follow directions and my family only eats my food because I’ve numbed their taste buds over the years? These things occur to me occasionally when I’m headed somewhere new, culinarily speaking, but nobody’s died yet and it means we generally recognize things on menus.

Not one of our ports of call, alas

This stew hails from Jamaica, but according to Wikipedia it’s eaten all over the Caribbean and can contain a huge variety of seafood and vegetables. The only constant is the coconut milk, which reduces to a thick-ish sauce. It's usually made with mackerel but Mark Bittman has made my life cheaper and easier by subbing in fresh cod instead. The dish is called “run down,” not because that’s how you’ll feel after slaving over a hot stove for hours – it’s fast and easy, I promise; there’s not even much chopping – but because you cook it until the fish falls apart into pieces. 

John is notoriously picky about fish, refusing to eat anything under $20/lb as a matter of course. I recently found out that my cholesterol is sky-high, so he better get used to slumming; cod is usually pretty reasonable even at the fancy-schmancy grocery stores and is a favorite around here with everyone except John (who is indignant at my writing this and insists that he loves fish in all its forms). If you plan ahead and salt your fish the day before, this stew comes together in about half an hour, which is totally reasonable for a weeknight. It was a great one-bowl meal, as we decided to ignore vegetables this particular night, and was delicious served over coconut rice (make stovetop rice subbing 2 cans of coconut milk for the water; be careful it doesn’t boil over and also stir it a lot or you’ll get a bunch of practice cussing while you clean your stove grate and favorite pot).

From Mark Bittman’s The Best Recipes in the World, which can be counted on for weeknight dinners with lots of variety.

Jamaican Fish Stew (Run Down)

1 ½ - 2 lb cod or other white fish, in a couple of large pieces (I had to cut mine up in order to fit it in my small LeCreuset)
3 Tbsp canola or other neutral oil
3 cloves garlic, minced
1 large onion, chopped
1 habanero chile, minced into tiny non-painful bits (if you’re being authentic; I used hatch chiles instead)
1 tsp black pepper
1 ½ - 2 cups coconut milk
1 cup chopped tomato with its juice
1 lime, juiced
Chopped fresh cilantro, if you’re feeling garnish-y

Salt the cod lightly on both sides and put in the fridge to rest for about an hour (up to 24 hours if you don’t want to build in wait time at the beginning of this).

Put the oil in a deep skillet or Dutch oven over medium-high heat. Add the garlic, onion, chile, and pepper. Cook until the onion softens, about 5-1o minutes. Add the coconut milk and tomato and cook, stirring occasionally, until it reduces by about half.

Rinse the fish and add it to the pot. Adjust the heat so it bubbles a bit but not like you’re cooking pasta. Cook about 10 minutes or until the fish is done, then add the lime juice. Garnish with the cilantro if you bothered with it.

I'm Changing Your Mind About Collards Greens

Some weeks we eat really boring food. Some weeks I’m absolutely on fire and we dine like – well, not kings, but like people who eat a lot of good food. And some weeks, a pretty pedestrian-sounding side dish steals the show and ends up being added to the New Favorites list. If you don’t like collard greens, this may change your mind - I know you need more greens in your diet!- and let's face it: collards aren't most people's favorites. I think this is probably because the raw leaves are roughly the size and shape of an elephant's ear (an actual elephant's actual ear, not the tasty fried dough from the state fair) and don't seem like they would cook down to anything as delicious as, say, baby spinach or chard. You're wrong. 

Nom nom, amiright?

I’ve talked plenty about the Lee Brothers and their wonderful updated take on Southern food. Having recently visited Alabama, I found pretty much every stereotype I expected to be true; lots of fried, lots of okra, mac and cheese is apparently a vegetable, token-effort iceberg lettuce salads, etc. It was all delicious but I walked away from most meals feeling kind of …heavy. My scale also feels that I came away from this experience kind of heavy. This did not, however, stop me from going on a Southern food bender last week and cooking my way through a bunch of new recipes from the Lee Brothers and Martha Foose Hall, including a sweet tea pie.

I actually like collards, and have a couple of different versions depending on how long I have available for cooking. David tends to make them as he has more patience for the rinsing and de-veining and chopping – the pre-cut ones all have the hard rib intact, which makes eating collards a lot less enjoyable. I actually did all the work to make these, including slicing the leaves (which, admittedly, are pretty easy to work with) ribbon-thin so they piled up beautifully in the bowl. I thought it was well worth the effort, as the tasty end result really wanted to be pretty as well. If you’ve ever wished you liked greens, this may be the dish for you.

From Simple Fresh Southern by the Lee Brothers.

Collards with Poblanos and Chorizo Will Change Your Mind About Collards 

2 tsp canola oil
8 oz fresh chorizo
3 poblano chiles, seeded and sliced into strips
2 tsp mined garlic (use the real stuff here, not the jarred)
1 ½ lb collard greens, ribs removed and sliced thinly
1 tsp salt
2 Tbsp red wine vinegar

Heat the oil in a pan large enough to hold the greens, then add the chorizo. Cook until the sausage has rendered most of its fat, about 2 minutes, breaking it up with a spoon as it cooks so you end up with crumbly little bits. Add the poblanos and cook until they start to soften, about 4 minutes more.

Add the garlic, half the collards, the salt, and 2 Tbsp water to the pan. Cook, turning the collards with tongs and adding more as space permits. Continue to cook until all the collards have softened and become dark green. About 6 minutes. Add the vinegar and cook, turning the collards occasionally, until the vinegar has evaporated and pan is dry, about 3 minutes more. Season with salt to taste and serve immediately to exclamations of surprise at what a couple of extra ingredients can do to greens.