Stoo for yoo

Ever since I read Ruth Reichl's first memoir, Tender at the Bone, I had been fixing to make pork and tomatillo stew, a recipe that came out of her hippie days at a co-op restaurant in Berkeley. I finally made it two Sundays ago for a herd of hungry snow travelers, and it was just as good as I expected. So good, in fact, that it even stole the spotlight from a big beautiful molcajete full of freshly made guacamole.

I had meant to make it with beef, since I wasn't sure that every visitor to my house was pro-pork, but there had been a run on all bovine products at my Safeway. Plus, pork is cheaper - especially when you stray from the recipe's recommendation of lean pork and choose a big, fatty shoulder roast (about $5.50 for a 3-pound hunk). The fat adds flavor to the stew, and I for one think extra fat is a very welcome thing when you've spent the day plodding through thigh-deep snow or shoveling out a driveway.

I had never cooked with tomatillos before, but what a fun little green fruit they are! They're also remarkably cheap. I bought most of the stew's ingredients, with the exception of the pork, at the Latin market on the ground floor of my office building in NoPe. Here a 2-lb package of tomatillos cost only $1.50 (found some other great bargains, too: limes are 25 cents each; a huge bunch of cilantro is 50 cents; a can of Goya black beans is 75 cents). To cook with tomatillos, you must remove the papery husks, and they may need to be scrubbed if there's still paper stuck to the skin. With the husks removed, a tomatillo looks like a cross between a tomato and a green pepper (their stems are similar). It's the main ingredient in many salsa verdes, and it adds a nice, tart, almost vinegary flavor to this particular stew.

The stew disappeared in a matter of minutes. While I do believe second and third helpings are the sincerest forms of flattery, I would have loved to have kept more to myself. But if you are looking for an easy and cheap dish to please - I mean, really please - a big crowd, this is it.

Recipe: Pork and Tomatillo Stew

Adapted from Ruth Reichl. Makes about 12 servings (per my quantities - you can find the original recipe here). I'm sure it would also be very good with chicken or beef in place of pork, or you could even omit the meat and add extra beans for a veg version. It tastes even better the second day.

1/4 C cooking oil
cloves of one whole head of garlic, peeled
3 lbs. pork shoulder roast, cut into cubes
salt
pepper
2 bottles dark beer (I used Negra Modelo in keeping with the Latin theme)
12 ounces orange juice
1 to 2 lbs. tomatillos, quartered
1 to 2 lbs. Roma tomatoes, peeled and chopped (alternatively, you could use canned tomatoes)
2 large onions, coarsely chopped
1 bunch of cilantro, chopped and divided
2 jalapeño peppers, chopped
2 14-ounce cans black beans
juice of 1 lime
sour cream, for serving (optional)

Heat oil in a very large Dutch oven over medium-high heat. Add garlic cloves, then add pork in batches so as not to crowd, and brown on all sides. Remove pork as the pieces get brown on all sides, and add salt and pepper.

Meanwhile, add beer and orange juice to a medium-sized pot over high heat. Add tomatillos and tomatoes, bring to a boil, lower heat to a simmer, and cook about 20 minutes or until tomatillos are soft. Set aside.

When all pork is browned, pour off all but about a tablespoon of the oil in the pan. Add onions and cook about 8 minutes, or until soft. Stir, scraping up bits of meat. Add chopped cilantro and pepper and salt to taste. Put pork back into pan. Add tomatillo mixture and chopped jalapeños. Bring to a boil, lower heat, cover partially and cook about 2.5 hours. Check for seasonings, add black beans and lime juice and cook an additional 10-15 minutes. Serve with a dollop of sour cream in each bowl, if desired.

The Cilantroversy

It seems no herb but cilantro can provoke such strong opinions. I first witnessed this years ago, working at the Rio Grande Cafe in Bethesda. The special of the day was "Shrimp Acapulco" -- grilled shrimp served over a bed of "cilantro rice" and topped with mango salsa, if I remember correctly. I'm sure it was very thoughtfully named. Anyway, I was describing it (in more detail than what you just read -- this tactic is known as "upselling" in the restaurant world) to a middle-aged couple and their son, during a lunch shift. As soon as I said the word "cilantro," the woman shuddered, "Oh, ugh. I can't stand cilantro." What?? I had just sampled the new special earlier that morning, and I'll be damned if it weren't "out of this world" -- my favorite way to describe food to customers. Plus, I thought, cilantro makes everything better.

It turns out a lot of people hate, hate, this herb. It may just be genetics: a behavioral scientist recently took his cilantro study to the Ohio Twins Festival and found that if one identical twin hated cilantro, chances are the other twin felt the same way. Also, most cilantro-haters detect in it a soapy taste and smell, which strikes me as a genetic kind of thing -- a very scientific opinion, I know. It reminds me a little bit of the asparagus pee phenomenon; studies have shown that eating asparagus always results in an odiferous urine, but not everyone is able to smell it. I'm glad I can't, because it might ruin asparagus for me.

Anyway, cilantro. There have been a number of groups formed on Facebook dedicated to a collective detestation of this most ubiquitous of herbs. The below is a small sampling of the wall posts for the group I HATE CILANTRO, now boasting almost 2,000 members:

"We are born with something people who can tolerate cilantro don't have. It's called a soul."

"Cilantro is just plain vulgar. Its flavor lingers and repeats for at least three days. Reasturants should warn customers about every item that contains it. I HATE IT! It chould be illegal."

"Fresh coriander is an abomination.
It is surely the scent of evil, the stench of hell, the proof that the Enemy is working around us.
On his occasional meetings with the Devil around the turn of the first Millenium, it is reported that St. Julian Hospitaller could always detect the odour of fresh coriander - cilantro. It should never be consumed by human beings and restaurants should ALWAYS have a warning sign for any dishes dishes carrying this noxious weed. I certainly send my food back if they come up with pearls of culinary stupidity as a 'coriander pesto' but they only anounce it as 'pesto'."

Gentle readers, these are highlights from only Page One of the wall posts.

I'm not sure which came first, but there is also a website, ihatecilantro.com, where you can read all about the evils of the herb and the people who cook with it, and order your "I HATE CILANTRO" sweatshirts, messenger bags, throw pillows, mouse pads, and beer steins. There's even a canine-sized "I HATE CILANTRO" t-shirt, for that dog of yours who becomes nauseated at the very thought.

I jest. If cilantro-hating really is a matter of genes, then I can't fault the haters. But, all this hulabaloo against an innocent herb? It's kind of hilarious. I guess I, too, have joined "hater" Facebook groups -- my favorite among them being "If you can't differentiate between your and you're, you deserve to die." But what did cilantro ever do to you? Okay, touche, what did the your/you're offenders ever do to me (besides make grading their English 101 papers extra tedious)?

Well, doggone it, I love cilantro, if you couldn't tell already. I love it so much that I take a long whiff every time I encounter it. Mmmmm! Makes everything seem so fresh! The following two recipes are cilantro-heavy, but if you happen to be a hater, you could just as well make them without the cilantro. I had my parents and two of my brothers over for dinner tonight, and served the cabbage salad as the first course and the soup as the main course, fearing the flavors of each dish were too strong to be served at the same time. Home run! Everyone loved everything (my people don't have the cilantro-hating gene, clearly). Plus, it's all pretty low-fat, and yours truly is looking to get rid of about 10 pounds.

Recipe: Peanut-Ginger Cabbage Salad
The dressing is adapted from 101Cookbooks. Serves 6 as a heavy first course.


For dressing (makes about 1.25 C):
2/3 C creamy peanut butter
1/3 C rice vinegar
1/4 C maple syrup (I was out of maple syrup, so I just used 2 T sugar)
3 T water
2 T tamari (I do not have this, so I substituted soy sauce)
1 T minced fresh ginger (or 1.5 t ground ginger)
2 cloves garlic
1.5 t toasted sesame oil (use regular sesame oil if you don't have the toasted kind)
1/4 t crushed red pepper flakes (omit these if you don't like spicy food)
1 C cilantro

For salad:
1 half of a large head of green cabbage, cut into julienne strips
2 large carrots, coarsely grated
1 red pepper, julienned
2 C broccoli florets (ends of about two broccoli)
juice of half a lime
1/4 C loosely packed mint leaves
1/4 C loosely packed cilantro

To make the dressing, grind together the first nine ingredients in the food processor or blender. Add the cilantro and pulse a few times. Add water as necessary to get a consistency you like for salad dressing. May be refrigerated for up to two days.

To make the salad, toss together all the salad ingredients. Toss with the dressing.

Addendum: Feel free to use any combination of vegetables here. Red cabbage can be substituted. Green beans would be good. A different-colored pepper. Sliced radishes, especially daikon radish. Cucumber might be a nice addition. Red onion, perhaps. Use your imagination!


Recipe: Spicy Chickpea and Tomato Stew
Inspired by Rachael Ray's Indian-Spiced Chickpea and Fire-Roasted Tomato Soup (don't hate). Serves 6.


1 T olive oil
2 garlic cloves, minced
1 medium onion, diced
3 15-oz. cans chickpeas, or one and a half bags of dried chickpeas, soaked overnight
3 t ground cumin
1 t garam masala
1 t ground turmeric
1/2 t cayenne pepper or two chopped, seeded dried red chiles (omit if you don't like spicy food)
2 C chickenor vegetable stock
1 C water
1 28-oz. can diced tomatoes
1 C cilantro
1.25 C plain yogurt
Pita chips (optional, recipe follows)

Heat a large pot over medium heat and add the olive oil. Add the garlic and onions and cook, stirring occasionally, about 5 minutes. Add chickpeas and spices. Reduce heat to low-medium and cook another 5 minutes. Add chicken stock and water, increase to medium, bring to a low boil, reduce heat to low-medium, and simmer about 30 minutes. Add tomatoes and cook for another 15 minutes. Reduce heat to low. Ladle soup into bowls and give each a tablespoon or so of cilantro and a dollop of yogurt. Serve with pita chips.

Pita chips: Heat oven to 300 degrees. Take four pieces of pita bread that are about to go stale. Cut each in half crosswise (so each pita becomes two full circles). Slice into fourths. Brush each piece with olive oil on both sides. Sprinkle each side with salt. Bake for about 10 minutes, or until crispy.

If by "sexy" you mean "soupy."

I need to just post this recipe, once and for all, before I forget and before it loses seasonableness. All I have to say about it: it's delicious; it's cheap; it's sophisticated; it's great for cold weather, football, and loneliness; you should make it.

Oh, and I believe it's called a bisque because the original recipe calls for a significant amount of whipping cream. Well, I can't afford no whipping cream, nor does this soup need it. I have made it about a dozen times and never once thought to myself, "Man, if only I had some whipping cream." (That thought does pop into my head a lot, but not this time.) Sadly, I think that, without the cream, this creation no longer qualifies as a sexy bisque, but as a soup. Not sexy. Just call it a bisque, and call it a night.

Recipe: Butternut Squash and Roasted Garlic Bisque

Adapted significantly from Epicurious. Serves 8. Reheats well in microwave and lasts about 5 days.

2 large butternut squash
2 heads of garlic
4 T olive oil, divided
2 C chopped onions
5 C chicken or vegetable stock (or, preferably, the turkey stock you made over Thanksgiving!)
3 T chopped fresh sage
salt
pepper

Heat oven to 350 degrees. Cut both butternut squash in half, lengthwise. Wrap each half in aluminum foil and bake for about 20 minutes. Meanwhile, cut each garlic head crosswise. Brush exposed garlic cloves with olive oil, wrap heads in foil, and bake about 20 minutes. Remove butternut squash from oven, unwrap, and let cool. Heat remaining olive oil in a heavy pot over medium heat. Add onions. Meanwhile, peel squash and chop into 1-inch chunks. After onions have cooked about 10 minuts, add squash, stock and sage to pot. Bring to a boil; reduce heat and simmer uncovered until squash is tender, 20-25 min. Meanwhile, "unwrap" garlic by squeezing pulp out of cloves (and unpeeling if necessary). Squeeze all garlic pulp into a bowl and mash with a fork until smooth. Stir into soup. Puree half of soup in blender, or using an immersion blender. Return pureed soup to pot. Season to taste with salt and pepper.

Cream of Poverty Soup

I was going to hold off on this one, but now that "food" and "crisis" are pretty much the only two words I hear hear/see/read in the news lately, it's time to throw together a pot of COPS. I think the total cost is about $4 and it feeds one person for an entire week of monotony. You will get so sick of it, but it's filling and healthy, and even tastes kind of good (I won't lie to you -- it's not delicious -- but I can't afford delicious and, according to all the alarmist news sources, neither can you). It's based on the recipe on the bag of Hurst's 15 Beans, but that recipe calls for a ham hock and a lemon. If you don't mind paying a whole dollar for just one lemon, go ahead and live it up. If you would rather put your dollar toward a forty-ounce to go with your bowl of poverty, follow my lead.

Recipe: Cream of Poverty Soup

1 bag of Hurst's 15-bean soup mix or Trader Joe's Bean and Barley Soup mix
a wee bit of oil
1 onion, finely chopped
4-5 cloves garlic, minced
1 carton or 2 cans of chicken or vegetable broth (or, if you're really scaling down, use water)
1 28-oz. can tomatoes -- doesn't matter if they're whole, plum, diced. Buy whatever's on sale.
lots of salt and pepper
spices, only if you already have them: cumin, coriander, cayenne, and oregano are good in this

Soak beans overnight and drain the next day. Recipes always tell you to "sort" through dried beans, but I don't know what that means. They all look fine to me. Then, heat a wee bit of oil in a big pot and add onion. When onions are softish, add garlic. Cook a minute or so on medium heat and add the beans. Cook another few minutes and add the broth or water. Bring to a boil and add the tomatoes, and add spices if you are using them. Reduce heat and simmer for about 45 minutes. Add salt and pepper before serving.

Italian Flag Soup

...So named because of its ingredients and color scheme!

January weather is finally making an appearance, so it's time to dust off the ol' stockpot. This is my favorite of my bean soups. Although its flagship ingredients come from cans, the addition of lemon zest, spinach, and parsley lends it an unseasonably fresh flavor.

This soup is equally good in warmer weather when you have easier and cheaper access to fresh herbs. Basil and rosemary are heavenly with the white beans and tomatoes; add them to the pot when you add the tomatoes, cayenne, and wine. See below for other variations.

Recipe: Italian Flag Soup
Makes about 6 reasonably-sized servings, or 4 Owen-sized servings
Prep time: 5 minutes; Cooking time: about 35 minutes

2 T olive oil
1 medium-sized onion
6 garlic cloves
2 15 oz. cans white (cannellini) beans
1 qt. chicken or vegetable stock
1 28 oz. can diced tomatoes
1/4 t cayenne (red) pepper
1/2 C dry white wine (drink the rest with din)
1 lb. spinach
1 T lemon zest
1/4 C chopped fresh parsley
1/4 C grated Parmesan (optional)
salt and pepper to taste

Heat olive oil in soup pot over medium heat. Chop onion and add to pot. While onion cooks (about 5 minutes), mince the garlic cloves and drain beans. Stir garlic and beans into pot and continue cooking about 1 minute. Add stock, increase heat, and bring to boil. Reduce heat to medium and simmer about 15 minutes. Drain tomatoes and add to pot, along with cayenne and white wine, and simmer another 10 minutes. Reduce heat to low and add spinach and lemon zest. Once spinach has cooked down, remove from heat and add parsley, Parmesan, salt, and pepper.

Variations:
-Use dried basil and/or oregano; add when you add tomatoes.
-In place of spinach, use a bitter green like kale or collards.
-Give it a Southwestern kick (after all, the Mexican flag is also red, white, and green!). Use pinto beans or black beans in place of white beans; Goya Adobo seasoning, cumin, and oregano in addition to the cayenne; and cilantro in lieu of parsley. Omit the Parmesan and garnish with shredded Jack cheese or queso fresco and sour cream.
-Give it a Southern twist by substituting the beans and greens with black-eyed peas and collards and use bacon grease instead of olive oil to get the onions going, reserving the cooked bacon to add to the soup before serving.
-Use chickpeas instead of white beans and add cumin when you add the cayenne.