Call Me Donkey

I have a guilty pleasure.  I know, I say it like I have just one *pfft*, but I'm open about this one.  It's a pleasure I do not deny myself and I won't hide it.  I'm not ashamed of it.  I heart Gordon Ramsey.  I have a friend who despises him, for what reason I do not know, but I suppose it's fair.  He's not everyone's cup of tea.  He is, for me, one of two chefs that I adore purely for their unabated love for taking simple, fresh ingredients and turning them into masterpieces.  Since returning home to Canada, I have taken my kitchen by storm; whirling around trying any new recipe I can get my hands on, however simple or challenging.  I believe this has taught me to take a second look at what we're putting in our mouths and make sure it counts.  I want it to be healthy.  And I want it to be good.  Damn good.

And so, in my foodie blog surfing, cookbook page flipping, and chef-driven boob-tube addiction (I don't remember that last time I watched something on television that wasn't related to food, unless my husband has the remote, and then there's usually a ball and a ref involved), I have found a few dishes here and there that piqued my interest.

Gordon Ramsey's Beef Wellington has been one of them.  I've seen him make it a thousand times on Hell's Kitchen.  And I've loved watching him call the innocent, doe-eyed dude a donkey when it comes out wrong.  It can't be that hard, can it?  Then, I got Ramsey's iPhone app.  Lo and behold, the Wellington was an item, with video thank you my dear chef Ramsey, that you could take a crack at if you had the balls to attempt the 'expertise' level recipe.  It was with great excitement and slight trepidation that I made up my mind to master this Wellington.  I would not be called a fat cow by the man.

And so it began.  I followed all of his tips.  Watched all of his techniques.  And had a good go at it.  

Ramsey calls for the sirloin to be wrapped in mushrooms and proscuitto.  Check.

Sirloin seared and resting.  Water sauteed out of the mushrooms and cooled.  Proscuitto on the plastic wrap, mushrooms down, sirloin ready.  What is all of the hullabaloo about?  

And wrapped!  Now for the puff pastry.

Now I suppose I was feeling a little confident at this point, how could I not?  It was lookin' good.  Ramsey called for the puff pastry to be rolled out to the thickness of a £1 coin, which lets face it, I don't really know how thick that is.  Is that like a Loonie?  A Twoonie?  Maybe a quarter?  Eff.  Let's just wing it... that's what I do, right?  Pastry rolled, sirloin wrapped, wellington egg-washed, and into the oven it went.

I have to confess that I although I wasn't feeling totally cocksure about my Wellington, I was, let's say, feeling upbeat.  I had done it (so far) without any major hiccups and was happy I could deliver a good result.  After 35 minutes in 350ºF, I popped it out, and let it rest like a good girl should.

Not to shabby right?  

As I sliced into the, what looked to be pretty perfect Wellington, I was feeling hopeful.  Could I really have done it on my first try?

It turns out, the hardest part of the damn dish was cutting it with the precision of a ninja on a dark starry night.  

The puff pastry flaked away, shifted, was a mangled mess.  It looked as if I had maimed it with a kid's beach toy instead of my new, fancy knives.  Looking at the puffy, meaty mess, I felt injured.  It happened.  I had failed.  It tasted delicious but looked like a pile of discombobulated meaty delicacy.  Had Ramsey been in my kitchen, he would have called me a stupid donkey and thrown a fork at me.  I would have deserved it.

I have resolved to try it again.  I was convinced, by the sheer taste alone, that I could do better.  I had to.  And I think I even know what my nemesis was: £1 coin puff pastry.

Anyone have a £1?  Wellington, you will not defeat me.

'Tis the Season to Eat Leftovers

As we all step boldly into the New Year with fresh resolutions and hearts floating on the fluffy, thick high that comes from the thought of new beginnings, most of us are also pondering what we just don't need anymore.  Let's call it a little more reflection.  Say, that bad habit you've been meaning to crack, or that daily extra-hot-quad-shot-skinny-minny-upside-down-inside-out-round-and-round-*gasp*-venti-extra-whip-caramel-macchiato, or heck, why not that miniature hippopotamus that surreptitiously crawled under your belly when you were preoccupied with sugarplums dancing in your head.

Or it may just be that leftover turkey lounging in the back of your fridge that you've be gazing at, wondering how you could possibly eat more turkey.  Boy howdy, do I have the solution for you!

 

Turkey and Leek Pie 

 

Inspired by Jamie Oliver during the standard New Year's Day recuperation period, it's as yummy as it sounds.  And simple to boot!  With all of 6 ingredients (sans seasoning of course), it not only used up our leftover turkey, it turned it into something I would consider making turkey in the middle of June... just for this pie. 

 

With a quick throw-together of onion, garlic, bacon, leeks, turkey, and stock... the savory, gooey mess topped with flaky puff pastry, was deeeelish!  Ok, so maybe puff pastry doesn't fall into the 'healthy beginnings' that often accompany blossoming resolutions, but it was worth the extra exercise.  And well, if you're hell bent on bein' good... you could substitute the puff for mash or leave it off altogether, but it wouldn't really be a pie then would it?

I can't say I really measured anything as I made this recipe.  I sort of just grabbed the leftovers and made them by bitch.  So start by preheating your oven to 375°F.  Snip half a package of bacon into a large pot on a medium heat.  Drain most of the grease off before adding approximately 3 or 4, depending on their size and how much turkey you have, prepped leeks (washed, trimmed; white end chopped into chunks, green end finely chopped) and some chopped onion and garlic to the pot.  Add a lug of olive oil and the butter and let it all fry off a few minutes so they're well coated in the butter.  Add a pinch of salt and pepper then pop the lid on top, turn the heat down to medium and let them cook away gently for 30 minutes, stirring every 5 to 10 minutes to make sure they don’t catch.  There’s going to be enough moisture in the leeks to keep them happy in the pan so they should be soft and melt in your mouth once they’re done.

When your leeks are ready, add the turkey meat to them and stir.  Add the flour, mix it in well then pour in your stock (I added about 3 cups, but base it on how much turkey you have and how much slurpy yum you want) and stir again. Add a couple big spoonfuls of crème fraîche or sour cream, then turn the heat up and bring everything back up to the boil. Have a taste and add a bit more salt and pepper if it needs it then turn the heat off. Spoon the thick leek and turkey mixture with that wonderful gravy into a pie plate or casserole dish.

Dust a clean surface, roll out your pastry so it's about double the size of your dish.  Sprinkle with fresh thyme and rosemary, fold over and roll out carefully so you have the right size for your dish.  Don’t worry if a few bits stick out here and there.  Lay your pastry on top, tuck the ends under then gently score the pastry diagonally with your knife.  Add a pinch of salt to your beaten egg then paint this egg wash over the top of your pastry.  Pop your pie in the oven for about 35 to 40 minutes or until the pastry is puffed up and golden brown.

Gather some friends, grab a glass of wine... I might reach for an Alsatian Gewurztraminer... and enjoy! 

My Life Under Vacuum

As self-admitted in previous blogs, I have a bit of an addictive personality.  And if you know me at all, you know that I am completely addicted to food.  Cooking, eating, baking, sharing... if it involves food, I'm in.  

I have, in my many hours of watching the Food Network, seen numerous different chefs (professional and aspiring) use the sous vide method in the effort to produce impeccable and delectable results.  I was intrigued to say the least.  So, when I received the tremendous gift of a sous vide machine, I was first shocked that I, a humble home cook with no 'formal training', had before me a machine that most people have never even heard of and was secondly, quite excited to start experimenting.  

If you fall into the category of wondering what the heck a sous vide machine is, you are not alone.  Sous vide, French for "under vacuum", is a method of cooking food sealed in airtight plastic bags in a water bath.  Often for extended periods of time, like the leg of lamb I am currently sous vide-ing for my mother's birthday, a mere 48 hours, at an accurately determined temperature much lower than normally used.  The aforementioned leg of lamb is chillin' out at 62°C.  The intention behind this method of cooking is to maintain the integrity and nutrition of ingredients.  The perk is that we have enjoyed succulent cuts of meat of all kinds that are, in our opinion, restaurant quality at a much more affordable price.  

So, as said, my addiction has caused me to sous vide pretty much anything I can get my hands on.  My first attempt was a couple of baseball cut sirloins with a dash of spice and a bit of garlic and ginger.

Vacuum packed steaks, ready for the sous vide machine.

I slipped them into the machine at 56°C, the scientifically determined temperature for medium-rare meats, for a couple hours until my husband returned from his basketball practice.  The beauty of the machine is that it never goes above your selected temperature, so even though my husband was running late, our steaks were not overcooked, dried out, or resembling something like a hockey puck.

  

No, instead I eased the tender steaks from the bag to flash sear them before serving, let them rest, and sliced into the perfectly medium-rare steak like it was a slab of soft butta.  

My husband likes this picture because it "fully encapsulates the sexiness that this steak was."  'Nough said.

And we can cook more than just a perfect steak; medium-rare from edge to edge and succulent as could be.  You can do stews, curries, vegetables, fruits, even a chocolate ganache.  It saves you money since you can purchase cheaper cuts of meat as the machine tenderizes as it cooks and there are no lost nutrients as when you boil or steam items.  For all of the perks, check this out: 

http://www.sousvidesupreme.com/en-us/product_info.htm

I picked up a discounted lamb rack during the holidays; I was tired and had little patience to make a big fancy dinner.  Instead, I just threw some spices on the lamb, chucked it into a vac-pac, slipped it into the machine, and walked away to complete other holiday tasks.  4 hours later, we were enjoying the most tender and flavorful lamb I have ever had.

 

I have since made a pork roast, a leg of lamb, baby back ribs, and all kinds of awesome.  And I came home yesterday with the Sunday grocery run full of meats to try in the sous vide machine.  A curried pork roast, a couple lemon garlic cod, caper butter Basa filets, and a couple more steaks for good measure.  

A friend asked me the other day if I would be interested in starting up a supper club.  A time for us to share quality food and friendship together.  Have you been listening to anything I've been blogging?  Is your mouth watering at the sight of the juicy cuts of yum above?  Interested in a supper club.... *pfft*  Hell yeah I am!