Offal/Odd Food Blog - Page 3

Tuesday, September 8, 2009
(Pig's) Blood
Let's be honest. After a long day at work, you don't typically come home yearning for a tall, warm glass of blood. Blood is just plain gross to most people. It's just one of the many appalling foodstuffs you can purchase at your local butcher. For whatever reason, blood doesn't tend to be a best seller (end sarcasm) and now you typically have to request it from the back where they keep various other vampiric treats. When buying blood you get the guarded feeling that your butcher just might be adding you to an online FBI database with other suspicious characters you'd see on Dateline NBC.

While Americans tend to simply be averse to blood, some people, such as Jews and Muslims, consider the consumption of blood as a religious taboo. It is, however, a culinary delight in Germanic and Asian cultures. Blood is used primarily in sausages and soups to add taste and texture, but some African countries drink it fresh from the animal and Scandinavians even consume it in pancakes. These, however, come as a close second to my personal favorite in Viet Nam, where snake's blood is guzzled down to enhance virility.


Chet's parents just weren't willing to fork over the money for a decent embalming.

Boom. Pig's blood. With some friends. The best part about the packaging is the bright "come hither" colors the merchant thought would attract potential customers. If I was marketing blood, the container would have a bunch of menacing Jolly Rogers, a jet black background with red coloring which would be dripping crimson rivulets. I'm just saying. Of course, this wouldn't have made the customer's tastings any easier. I decided on the quick and painful Band-Aid method. That is to say, I steeled myself, dunked my finger in the blood, and stuck it in my mouth as fast as possible. I immediately thought, "Nosebleed!" The cloying, coppery taste was altogether disgusting. Up until this point I was going to do a blood-based soup or a salad with a blood dressing. Uh...no thanks. After my initial taste test I remembered a dish I had eaten in Provence, jugged hare, which employed blood to thicken rather than to flavor. A cop out, perhaps, but I didn't think I could handle tasting one more sip in its raw state.

Jugged Hare

1 rabbit, butchered
1 large yellow onion, small diced
3 carrots, small diced
2 ribs celery, small diced
3 cloves garlic, minced
5 whole allspice
5 whole cloves
1 2" segment dried orange peel
1 bouquet garni
1/2 C marinade, reserved
2 1/2 C chicken broth
1 C port wine
1/2 C blood
1 T butter
1 T flour, extra as needed to dust
1 T extra virgin olive oil
kosher salt and fresh cracked black pepper, to taste

Marinade

750 mL red wine
8 sprigs thyme
2 sprigs rosemary
2 bay leaves
5 whole cloves
5 whole allspice

Marinate the rabbit overnight, turning once. Remove the rabbit pieces from the marinade and pat dry. Reserve 1/2 C of the marinade and discard the rest. Preheat the oven to 325 degrees and make sure all your ingredients are room temperature. Dust the rabbit with flour and sear over medium-high heat in a Dutch oven or similar cooking vessel in the olive oil. Remove the rabbit and add the vegetables, sweating down for 4-5 minutes. Add the reserved marinade and reduce by half, then add the rabbit, stock, and spices and herbs. Bring to a boil, remove from heat, then place the Dutch oven in the heated oven for 1 hour, add the port wine, then cook for another hour. Make a quick roux with the butter and flour, then add along with the blood to the stew. Stir until a thick sauce has developed. Serve with bread.

When a dish looks like this, do yourself a favor and call it "rustic."

This dish is, for lack of a better term, awesome. While it's not true jugged hare and is really more of a rabbit stew, the resemblance is certainly still there. The aromatics and fruitiness are immediately present from the port wine and dried orange (a Provencal staple) with herbaceous undertones. The rabbit tastes almost exactly like chicken that had a few too many glasses of Sangria at lunch. If you can imagine that, I mean. The sauce is great and just a little fatty, compliments of the quick roux and blood. Tiny, brick-red clots of the blood are floating around in the almost strangely pink-purple liquid in the pot. They do pack a good bit of richness and no longer are metallic tasting (Thank God). If you have a weak stomach, I would just think about the delicious taste rather than what's in the dish. And if you're cooking for someone else, your best bet is just not to tell them. Until they're done, of course. Then you bust out this bad boy:

Seconds, anyone?

Next post: Cactus leaf (Nopales)

Thursday, September 10, 2009
Cactus Leaf (Nopal)
Cactus leaf intrigued me because, well, cacti are spiky. (Don't stop reading, I promise it gets better.) At my market they sit looking pretty next to a pair of tongs (WARNING!), but also looking fervently inedible due to the razor sharp tongue-piercers jutting from their skin. Unless I'm hunting for bear meat with my bare hands or maybe making sushi with some deliciously toxic fugu, food really doesn't get much more dangerous than that.

Nopales are eaten almost exclusively in Mexico. If you've ever been there or seen pictures, chances are you'd probably know why. Word on the street is that the place has a cactus or two. Due to their extremely high content of vitamins and minerals, cactus pads are used in a plethora of dishes in Mexican cuisine, especially in salads and meat or egg dishes.

Watch yo'self.

Boom. Cactus Leaf. Or pad. Or the nopal. There are like eight different names for this thing, gimme a break. The raw...vegetable is light and slightly crunchy with something of a green bell pepper finish that is almost grassy. The one off-putting element of the leaf is its sliminess. This unfortunate mucilaginous quality can be avoided by grilling, frying, sauteing, or even rinsing it thoroughly. I had no idea how I was going to use the leaf initially, but recently I saw someone order chile relleno at a Tex-Mex place and I had trouble avoiding following the scent. I'd neither made nor even eaten a chile relleno before, but when something involves cheese and spicy fried stuff, I'm pretty much in. The closest I'd come before were served at my local watering hole, the extreme jalapeno poppers, or as I like to eloquently call them, "toilet plunger necessitators." What can I say, I'm a classy guy. Anyway, I already knew how to make a batter and salsa, so I figured why not.

Cactus Leaf Chile Rellenos with Spicy Chipotle Sauce

Chile Relleno

4 hablano peppers
Quesito Colombiano, as needed
2 cactus leaves, cleaned and sliced into strips about 1/2" thick.
vegetable oil and peanut oil
toothpicks

So I was short a toothpick or two, okay?!


Preheat the oven to 450 degrees. Pour a little oil in your hands and rub the peppers thoroughly. Place them in the oven on a sheet tray until the skin is becoming blistered and blackened, turning once midway for even coverage. Remove the peppers from the oven and place them in a paper or plastic bag for 5 minutes, or until the charred skin easily peels. At this point you can heat your oil on medium high. If you do not have a thermometer, a good way to test if your temperature is where you need it is to drop a small piece of batter and see if it quickly crisps. Make a small incision down the middle of the peppers and carefully remove the seeds, avoiding splitting the chiles as much as possible. Do not wash the seeds out, as it will also wash out some flavor. Tuck pieces of cheese and cactus leaf (as many as you dare) into the peppers and seal them with toothpicks. Cover the pepper with batter, shake any excess, then place it in the hot oil for 3-4 minutes per side. Dry on a rack and not paper toils until the chile relleno is cool enough to eat. Serve with rice and chipotle sauce.

Chipotle Sauce

2 tomatoes, peeled and chopped
1 yellow onion, chopped
2 cloves garlic, chopped
1 chipotle chile in adobo sauce, chopped
1 tsp fresh oregano
1/2 tsp cumin
1 T Canola/vegetable oil
pinch sugar
kosher salt and fresh cracked black pepper, to taste

Sweat down the onions for 2 minutes in the oil over medium-high heat and then add the garlic, cooking for an additional minute. Add the remaining ingredients and make sure that you salt the tomatoes so that they break down. Cook for 5-10 minutes, or until the tomatoes yield their juice and become soft. Blend the salsa to a puree.

Chile Relleno Batter

1 C flour (or more as needed)
1/2 C dark beer (or more as needed)
1 tsp salt
3 eggs, separated

Combine the beer, flour, egg yolks, and salt. Your batter should not be doughy. Add a little more beer or flour if needed, but keep in mind that the egg whites will thin your batter out. Whip your eggs to a stiff peak and fold them into the batter to complete your batter.

Maybe I'm getting a handle on this whole photography thing!!! Signed, Ansel Adams.

This dish will knock your socks off. The only downside was the vicious needle I received in my finger when I was cleaning the nopales. I made them with my girl Ying-Hua and she was one unhappy camper when she only got to inhale two faster than Usain Bolt running the 100m. The dish was surprisingly complex, which is something I don't always associate with Mexican cooking. The cactus leaf hits you first with its signature bell pepper taste, immediately followed by the delicate, peppery flavor of the poblano. Finally, the smoky flavor of the chipotle pepper fires up in the back of the throat and it's all brought together by the delicate tang of the Colombian cheese and the pepper's crunch. While you might think that the fried cheesiness would make my recipe heavy, the egg whites in the batter and the white cheese actually make for a very light and tasty dish.

Anyway, The Vampire Diaries series premier is on so I've got to jet. Wait...what? I meant Braveheart director's cut.

Next post: Soursop

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Sunday, September 13, 2009
Soursop
My grocer has a freezer that contains two things: 1) rare perishables, and 2) items such as durian that have a stench so rancid that they would make a sanitation worker gag. Now I wasn't sure which category this post's selection fell in, but with a name like "soursop" the first option didn't seem all that promising.

The soursop is an evergreen fruit that is harvested for its pulp in warm or even tropical climates in South America, the Caribbean, and southeast Asia. It is used primarily for its sweet flavor in drinks, sorbets, ice creams, and candy, and is prized for its nutritional value. Soursop is also valued for its medicinal qualities and treats such ailments as urethritis (cringe) and eczema.



Boom. Soursop. At my market they sell soursop as a frozen pulp with a tiny little spoon attached. Now to me this indicates that you have a treat, such as Italian ice, which should be eaten during a warm afternoon stroll in Venice along the Canal Grande. Not so. Perhaps more apropos would be eating it soursop along the Seine in Paris, because this stuff was some stinky cheese. My research had indicated that soursop might be great in a fruit smoothie, but to me it smelled exactly like a lemon cheesecake. If you can imagine a cheesy, creamy pineapple with a hint of lime, you have soursop. Keep in mind, the emphasis here is on the cheesy aspect. Cheese.

Soursop & Lemon Cheesecake

1 8 oz. cream cheese container
1 C (or 8 oz.) soursop pulp
2 lemons, juiced
1 lime, juiced
2 tsp gelatine dissolved 1/4 C hot water
pie crust

Uh...yum?

Combine the first 4 ingredients and stir to combine. Dissolve the gelatine in the hot water and add to the mixture. Combine with a blender or mixer until smooth. Pour the filling into your pie crust and place it in the refrigerator until set. Serve with whipped cream if desired.

The mint garnish indicates that I am obviously a high-paid pastry chef.

I'm not much of a baker, as seen by my lack of interest in creating a homemade pie crust. And this was certainly a tasty cheesecake, but don't hold your breath. The soursop really did complement the natural flavor of a cheesecake surprisingly well, and if you like beer with your dessert (and who doesn't?!), a Hefeweizen would go great with this. This recipe is, however, a cheap and easy recipe for a cheesecake that's better than your run-of-the-mill supermarket purchase. All in all, however, I would say soursop is the least interesting of my projects so far. It's neither super tasty nor skull-numbingly disgusting. And thus I have decided...

Next post: Pig ears

Friday, September 18, 2009
Pig Ears
When I think about pigs, I envision a pastoral Charlotte's Web kind of scene with cute little runts running willy nilly in the mud. Little runts. But unless my market is exclusively butchering mutant steroid pigs, I previously underestimated the size of the average adult swine to a significant degree. This was made evident when I walked down my grocer's aisles to the section between pork fat and pork heart, et Voila! Huge, hairy, hand-sized pig ears.

Pig ears are eaten around the world as an economic alternative to other, more expensive cuts of pork. (Spoiled) Americans tend to shun the parts of the animal that take time and technique to coax flavors from, especially when McDonald's is right up the street. There are literally dozens of preparations for the ears, ranging from soups to sandwiches to sashimi.

Liposuction gone horribly awry. I didn't show you the original uncooked ear, but in all honesty I shaved it down with a razor.

Boom. Pig ears. Cute, huh? With bad boys like these, I now somehow doubt that ear nibbling/kissing/blowing happens pre-coitus in the pig world. Okay, so I somehow doubt that any pre-coitus activities happen in the pig world. Why are we talking about pork porking? You brought it up, weirdo. Moving along. While I love most parts of the pig, I love bacon. Sure, I could go to Whole Paycheck and spend $10 for a couple of slabs of the stuff, but I figure I'd come up with a faux recipe.

Pig Ear Crisps

1.5 lbs pig ears
1.5 lbs pork product such as bones or trotters (can substitute chicken/beef)
2 yellow onions, roughly chopped
2 carrots, roughly chopped
2 ribs celery, roughly chopped
1 fennel bulb, roughly chopped
3 cloves garlic, roughly chopped
1/4 C red wine vinegar
1/4 C honey
2 bay leaves
6 sprigs thyme
6 sprigs parsley
15-20 whole black peppercorns
kosher salt, pinch for stock and pinch for finished crisps

Cover the pig ears and other meat product(s) with cold water in a large pot and bring to a boil. Strain the pork to rid it of the scum that forms, add the remaining ingredients, refill with cold water to cover, and bring to a boil again. Reduce the heat to a light simmer and skim scum and fats that rise to the surface. After 2 1/2 hours, remove the ears and continue to reduce the stock for another 1 1/2 hours. Strain and save the liquid. Slice the ears in 1/4" strips, dip in a batter (see Cactus Leaf entry), and then place in the fryer for 3-5 minutes. Remove the crisps, place them on a paper towel, and salt immediately. Serve atop a chopped salad.

As you can see by the dolphin-shaped ear strip, I am sensitive.



This recipe may seem like a lot of work, but most of what's really involved is stirring, skimming, and occasional straining. And not all these ingredients are necessary for the dish. I essentially only created a stock, which can substitute vegetables and herbs such as parsnips, leeks, mushrooms, tomatoes, rosemary, cocoa nibs, etc. depending on the type of meat. Once you pop the products in the pot you're pretty much set to sit back and watch the 92nd season of Lost or some other cinematic stool sample. Additionally, you'll have 3-4 cups of some great pork broth leftover, and not much can beat the rich flavor of homemade stock.

These crisps have a lot of flavor and texture, but not one that I'm sure everyone will enjoy. There is the initial crunch of the fry followed by a gelatinous, gooey pork goodness, and then the somewhat disconcerting chew of the cartilage in the middle. If you didn't know what you were eating, you might even think it was brittle bone. So in the event that you don't own thermal underwear, know how to properly wield an axe, or know what kind of gun Jesse Ventura was shooting in Predator, you probably want to avoid pig ears. But you could always substitute bacon (bacon, Bacon, BACON!), which I hear grows chest hair as well.

Next post: Sapote