Maybe it’s the tomato tooth I was born with instead of a sweet tooth, maybe it’s the towering heels I rock when my old bones let me, or maybe it’s only that Marcello Mastroianni was perfection on two legs, but I’ve always wanted to be Italian, just a little bit.

Exhibit A: Photographic evidence of alleged perfection, minus corroborating proof of two legs.

It isn’t that I don’t love a good bowl of shrimp & grits or that I don’t get a nostalgic glow from a breakfast of couche-couche and cane syrup, but polenta has been my go-to corn base of late. And after a long work week, what could be a more welcome sight or more soul-satisfying over cheesy, buttery polenta than a ragu of braised short ribs, I ask you?

It’s a dish that’s nearly impossible to mess up, which I think we all can appreciate in the days leading up to Thanksgiving. With so much else on the mind, it’s nice to throw something into the oven for a few hours and get on with other things. Of course, the initial prep work takes some time — chopping the vegetables, trimming and searing the beef, getting all of the elements in balance before the extended stay in the oven — but your time and patience will be well-rewarded by the outcome.

If you can manage not to devour it right away, let the ribs sit overnight in the refrigerator. This serves two purposes: as we all know, this type of dish is always better on the second day, and you’ll be able to remove some of the ungodly amount of fat the ribs throw off so much easier than if you only skimmed the surface while it was still hot. Of course, chilling the ragu overnight doesn’t mean you shouldn’t do a little quality control while it’s still hot, just to put your mind at ease that you have, in fact, made something that will be worth the wait.

But woman cannot live by polenta and short ribs alone. As a nod to the tables of so many of my fellow North Jerseyans, I made a Sunday gravy recently. It’s not something I tackle more than once a year because of the sheer effort and number of calories involved, but man, this makes for a pleasant food coma. I make no claims to authenticity, but I’m not sure too many others can either; it’s one of those dishes that seems to have as many variations as people who make it. The recipes may disagree on specifics, but all are unified in the insistence on Meat And Lots Of It. Me? I only used a paltry four types — pepperoni (not too much of it), sweet Italian sausage, pork butt and beef & pork meatballs. I browned everything but the pepperoni, then simmered it all for hours in tomatoes swimming with garlic until we were going mad (in the best possible way) from the smell.

My gluten-free adaptation of this polenta cake didn’t quite pass muster, but with a little creme fraiche, it was still a nice way to end the meal. I’ll keep working on it and report back when I’ve found success.

recipe after the jump

Short Rib Ragu

5-6 lbs. short ribs
kosher salt
1 tablespoon bacon fat, lard or oil
1 large onion, diced
2 medium carrots, diced
2 stalks celery, diced
2 large cloves garlic, finely chopped
2 tablespoons tomato paste
1 tablespoon anchovy paste
1/2 bottle red wine
1/2 28-oz. can whole fire-roasted tomatoes and sauce
1 tablespoon Dijon mustard
a few dashes of Worcestershire sauce
1 oz. dried mushrooms reconstituted with 2 cups boiling water
1 teaspoon dried thyme
1 teaspoon dried oregano
1 large sprig rosemary
2 bay leaves
chicken stock or water
gremolata, recipe follows

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Season ribs well with salt. Heat oil in large, heavy pot (I used a 5-qt. enameled cast iron dutch oven) over medium heat until shimmering. Brown ribs in batches for 2-3 minutes per side, then set aside. Pour out all but 1 tablespoon of accumulated fat from pot, then sauté onion, carrots and celery until soft. Add garlic and stir until fragrant.

Create a hot spot in the pot by moving vegetables aside and leaving about a 3-inch radius bare. Add tomato paste and anchovy paste to the hot spot and stir vigorously until caramelized, then stir into the vegetables. Add red wine to deglaze and cook until liquid is reduced by half. Add tomatoes, mustard, Worcestershire sauce, mushrooms and soaking liquid (minus the last 1/4 inch to keep sediment out of your dish), plus herbs.

Add ribs to pot and fill with chicken stock or water until ribs are nearly covered. Bring liquid to a boil, then cover tightly and braise in oven for at least 3 hours or until ribs are fall-apart tender.

Remove ribs from liquid and set aside until cool enough to handle. Meanwhile, using an immersion blender, purée the braising liquid until thick and set over medium-low heat to reduce. When ribs have cooled down, discard bones and large pieces of fat, then shred the beef and return it to the pot. Remove from heat and cool to room temperature, skimming any large pools of fat from the surface.

Refrigerate overnight. The next day, remove additional fat from the surface before reheating. This recipe makes a LOT of ragu, so you may want to reheat only a small portion. Serve over polenta, sprinkled with gremolata.

Gremolata

1 large clove garlic, minced
zest of 1 large lemon
1/4 cup parsley, finely chopped
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon olive oil

Mix ingredients in a small bowl and let sit at room temperature for an hour before serving.

Right off the bat, I’ll admit that yes, I cheated a little here. Asparagus hasn’t been seen at the Ringwood Farmers’ Market for the past two weeks, but 1) I had a craving and 2) didn’t it make for a pretty — if slightly pornographic — shot?

Because I operate under the assumption that pretty much everything is better when topped with a fried or poached egg (especially the super-fresh ones we get from Nina), I went with a variation on a shaved asparagus salad from the pages of Food & Wine for Sunday’s lunch:

The ricotta salata I substituted for the Parmesan was creamy and subtle, but I think I’ll try the recipe as written next time for even more of a punch.

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Because I eat yogurt with fruit every weekday for breakfast, I like to change things up a little on weekends, so we had gluten-free pancakes before hitting the market Saturday morning. I’m still playing around with flour combinations for breads and pie crust, but this pancake recipe was perfect as written. (By the way, I have no plans to turn this into a blog about dietary restrictions, but if you’re looking into a gluten-free diet, I highly recommend the Gluten-Free Girl blog. It’s an amazing resource.)

But back to the pancakes. I cooked them in only about 1/2 teaspoon of butter each, but they were so rich-tasting and slightly sweet on their own that they only needed a dollop of the raspberry jam I picked up recently from B&B Jams to put them over the top.

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I didn’t really load up on fresh vegetables this weekend because I went overboard last week and still had quite a bit hanging around in my vegetable drawers. I’ve been on a leftover kick all week long, but only yesterday did I finally get around to using up the last bit of the smoked beef tongue (courtesy of Snoep Winkel Farm) I made last weekend. Of course, on that first day, we had it in tacos as we always do, but during the week it made appearances sliced on crackers with Dijon mustard or just nibbled out of hand straight from the cutting board.

But my plan for Saturday’s lunch included my latest favorite way to use leftover bits of meat and vegetables: Vietnamese bun, a refreshing salad served with cold rice noodles, and the perfect thing on a hot summer day.

This was made entirely with odds and ends from the refrigerator: Tatsoi, cabbage, carrots, red bell peppers, radishes, green onions, basil and cilantro, all tossed with a sweet-sour-salty-spicy dressing, funky with fish sauce and garlic. And hit with a lot of Sriracha, naturally. I’ve found that if you get the sauce right (I used the one from this Vietnamese Chicken Salad), the rest of the salad just falls into place.

It’s been a migraine-y day for me, so I have nothing more to offer at the moment, but I’m hoping to get around to an apricot & goat’s milk frozen yogurt sometime this week. Hope you have a great one!

recipes after the jump

Braised and Smoked Beef Tongue

1 beef tongue, scrubbed with salt and rinsed with cold water
1 bottle beer
4 large bay leaves
20 black peppercorns
1 tablespoon cumin seeds, toasted
1 tablespoon coriander seeds, toasted
1 cinnamon stick
10 garlic cloves, peeled and lightly crushed
1 large onion, quartered
4 chipotle peppers, whole
1 tablespoon dried Mexican oregano
Dijon mustard
beef rub (recipe follows)

Place all ingredients in a large pot and add water to cover by about two inches. Bring to a boil, cover, then simmer over low heat for four hours. Remove tongue from braising liquid and allow to rest at room temperature until cool enough to handle. Remove skin from tongue and trim away any nasty bits you see, coat tongue lightly in Dijon mustard, then in beef rub (recipe follows). Loosely cover and refrigerate overnight.

The next day, set up your smoker according to manufacturer’s instructions. I used hickory because beef tongue is sturdy enough to handle the strong flavor, but feel free to experiment with your favorite smoking wood. Smoke low & slow for 1 1/2 to 2 hours.

Beef Rub

2 tablespoons kosher salt
1 tablespoon paprika
1 tablespoon freshly ground black pepper
1 teaspoon ground cumin
1/2 teaspoon ground coriander
1/2 teaspoon chipotle chili powder
1/2 teaspoon dried thyme
1/2 teaspoon dried Mexican oregano

Mix ingredients together. Store any leftovers in a tightly sealed container.

Rufus begged to wear his Halloween costume to the last farmers’ market of the season. How could we refuse? All I cared about was getting a few veggies and a nice chuck roast for beef bourguignon. As you can see, we both left happy.

I combined the classic recipe from Julia Child with a couple of Anthony Bourdain’s modifications and tweaked a bit more based on ingredients we had at hand. To say this was the best beef stew I’ve had would be an understatement; I’m sure it was the overdose of demi-glace that did it, but that doesn’t demystify things at all.

recipe and more Ru pics after the jump

It took him four years, but he finally got the bunny.

Gil was understandably proud.

Beef Bourguignon adapted from Mastering the Art of French Cooking and Anthony Bourdain’s Les Halles Cookbook

1 tablespoon olive oil
6-8 ounces prosciutto, cubed
3 pound chuck roast, cut into 2-inch cubes
3 carrots, cut into 1-inch pieces
3 small onions, sliced
1 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon black pepper
1/2 bottle red wine
1 tablespoon tomato paste
2 cloves minced garlic
1/2 teaspoon minced thyme
1 bay leaf
3 ounces demi glace
water to cover
1/2 tablespoon butter
1 pound button mushrooms, sliced
1/2 tablespoon sherry vinegar

Preheat oven to 325F with rack in the lower third.

Heat olive oil in a heavy pot over medium heat. Sauté prosciutto in oil for 2-3 minutes, or until lightly browned. Remove prosciutto with a slotted spoon. Set pot aside.

Dry beef cubes and season well with salt and pepper. Reheat the fat in the pot and brown beef cubes in batches. As they brown, add them to the prosciutto.

Sauté carrots and onion in the same pot until onion is golden brown. Add salt and pepper, then beef and prosciutto back to pot. Stir in tomato paste and garlic and toss with the meat until well distributed. Add wine, thyme, bay leaf, demi glace and water just to cover, then bring to a simmer. Cover pot tightly with lid and braise in the oven for 3-4 hours. The meat is done when it pulls apart easily with a fork.

While the beef is cooking, sauté mushrooms in butter until they’re lightly browned and starting to caramelize. Season with salt and pepper to taste. Add sherry vinegar and cook until liquid is evaporated. (This was my addition, but I liked the hit of vinegar to cut some of the richness of the dish. Feel free to leave it out if it’s not to your liking.)

When beef is ready, stir in the mushroom mixture. Serve with boiled potatoes, rice or noodles.

Sometimes it’s a good idea to revisit old favorites. I’ve been really blah with overtones of meh lately about pretty much everything including preparing meals. Like Milli Vanilli, I’ll blame it on the rain, but that doesn’t make the prospect of cooking any more exciting. So what’s a girl to do when her hair is permanently frizzy, she hasn’t seen the sun in days and can’t be bothered to update her cooking blog? Declare a Redo Weekend!

The day started with an update to the cornmeal blueberry pancakes I first tried last summer. With so many gorgeous berries at the market right now, it seemed a shame to limit the pancakes to blueberries, so I halved the batch and did a strawberry version as well. Couldn’t decide which I liked more, so I just alternated them on the plate and doused the stack with maple syrup.

Cut to two hours later.

After waking from my sugar coma, I got to work on another old favorite: tongue tacos and refried beans. Mmmmm-hmmmm. I’d picked up a three-pound behemoth at the Snoep Winkle Farm booth a week earlier and it had been weighing heavily on my mind. I tweaked the old recipe pretty heavily, doubling the beer in the braising liquid and adding hefty amounts of toasted cumin and coriander seeds.

After braising, I set the tongue aside to cool. Then came the peeling, which didn’t skeeve me out nearly as much this time around.

It still wasn’t pleasant, mind you, but my toes didn’t curl at all. PROGRESS!

While my hands were still covered in tongue juices (am I not the most enchanting creature ever?), I shredded the meat before cooking it down a second time with onions, additional spices and even more beer.

The tongue tasted heavily of beef as you’d expect, but turned silky and tender in a way no other cut can. We had the tacos with and without salsa because, again, it was too hard to decide which way was better.

No picture of the refried beans because I’m just not that good of a photographer, but they were creamy and delicious. I used borlotti beans (an odd choice, I’ll admit) from Rancho Gordo cooked in the usual way — onions, garlic, cumin, beer, beef broth, salt & pepper — until they were soft, then fried them with some bacon fat and onion, mashing them down as they simmered. It might be too soon for another Redo Weekend, but I’m really tempted to do this again for the 4th.

Inspiration has been peeking around the corners for me this week, so I hope to have something new for you soon. But in the meantime, enjoy the weekend and try a redo if you need to.

The Ringwood Farmers’ Market has opened for the season, and I rejoice. Don’t ask me how, but I managed to restrain myself and only had to make two trips back to the car during shopping on opening weekend. It’s so wonderful to have gorgeous produce at my disposal again; it was an obscenely long winter.

I’ve been cooking (mostly grilling) quite a bit, just not posting here. Over Memorial Day, we were housebound with our boy (who is doing very well these days — for the lot of updates, visit Gil at VM), so cooking outdoors was a way to alleviate boredom and still feel like I was doing what I was supposed to be doing. From the bottom of the image: grilled porterhouse steak with red chimichurri sauce (which is possibly the most delicious thing I’ve put in my mouth in a long time), grilled sardines, and fiddlehead ferns and asparagus sautéed in a white wine and Dijon sauce. I loved the way the strong flavors all collided with each other, but don’t think I’ll be doing the sardines again. I don’t recall them being so very bony when I’ve had them in the past; was it just that the fishmonger didn’t clean them well enough or is it always the case?

Porterhouse is a LOT of meat, so we had tacos with our very generous leftovers. Nothing fancy, just leftover steak and fish, romaine lettuce, thinly sliced radishes and more of that divine chimichurri. (Recipe will follow, just as soon as Gourmet gets around to posting it online.)

’tis the season for morel mushrooms. Here, we had asparagus, shallots and morels sautéed in butter and hit with a touch of half and half. Most exciting about this omelette, though, is the fact that I tried Julia Child’s method of basically manhandling the eggs and it really worked for me!

And because no Memorial Day weekend would be complete without a load of berries, we had raspberry, blueberry and rhubarb cobbler for dessert.

Our friends Ian and Jess paid us a visit a couple of weekends ago. Luckily for us, Jess is a spectacular baker and thoughtful friend who brought plenty of treats to keep us happy over the weekend. Here you see my new favorite cake — banana chiffon (did you know such a thing was possible?) — topped with Greek yogurt and more of those juicysweet strawberries. (No picture of the rocky road brownies or chocolate biscotti, sorry. But I can vouch for them.)

I also didn’t take pictures of the kofta kebabs we had for lunch Saturday because I took pictures last time and it’s so not an appetizing-looking dish. No need to put myself (or you) through it again. Of course, this photo of grilled hanger steak, asparagus and oven fries won’t be featured in a retrospective anytime soon, but boy, were they good.

Your obligatory Rufus photo:

I don’t think I’m being especially controversial by saying our food preferences are largely culturally-influenced. My dad traveled to China on business quite a bit during his career, and came back with stories of food that often sounded delicious, but also occasionally made my toes curl. Being raised on alligator (usually dry, stringy and flavorless), frog legs (pretty darned good, if a little tough), and boudin (head cheese and rice stuffed into a sausage casing, and slap-yo-mama-good), I’ve had my share of strange looks when talking about meals that aren’t so popular outside of Louisiana. Yet the very same people who introduced me to those foods somehow make the poo-face at tongue, a meat popular at both hole-in-the-wall taquerias and Jewish delis in this part of the country.

Boggles the mind.

OK, maybe not so mind-boggling when I put it that way. Check out the underside.

But the gross-out factor aside, tongue is damned good eating — rich, moist, tender, and so, so flavorful. I realize I tend to wax rhapsodic about certain things, but I fell in love with this cut of meat probably 20 years ago and that’s a long time to go without shouting it from the mountaintop. Those were the years before Food Network, so I was still in my PBS cooking show phase; one of the many programs in the rotation was The Frugal Gourmet. Not my favorite by a long shot, I watched mostly to see how badly Jeff Smith would treat his poor assistant, Craig; I found it fascinating that someone so prickly could’ve been both a minister and a successful TV host. And it was on one of his shows that I was introduced to the wonders of the tongue taco. If you remember his enthusiastic proclamations at all, you’ll understand why I sought it out at the earliest opportunity — at Taqueria Corona in New Orleans. Those tacos never disappointed, and I even managed to turn on a few of my more adventurously-paletted friends to their charms.

But oddly enough, I’ve had trouble finding an equally good version here in New York (in Chelsea, specifically, since I don’t have much time for lunch). Sure, there’s a decent place across 6th Avenue, but the meat is too gamey for my taste. So when I saw tongue for sale at the Snoep Winkel Farm booth at the farmers’ market, I picked some up to try my hand at recreating the experience.

After exhaustively researching the topic, I decided on a simple approach — braising the tongue for four hours on the stove, cooling it overnight in its cooking liquid, then baking it in the oven for another hour the next day. That protracted cooking time is magical, so just step back and get ready for an experience you won’t forget.

To serve, I heated some corn tortillas in a cast iron skillet until they were lightly charred, then topped the tongue with a mixture of onion, cilantro, and lime juice, a sliver of avocado, shredded lettuce, and copious amounts of Cholula hot sauce. We had it for lunch and dinner yesterday, which should tell you how good it was.

And Santa Maria Pinquito beans were the perfect accompaniment, though I didn’t do anything special to them. After an overnight soak, I cooked them for a couple of hours with the usual cast of characters — beer, bay leaf, jalapenos, onions, garlic, and a smoked pork hock. At that point, I added cumin, paprika, chile powder, and salt and let everything simmer for another hour.

So if you’ve never tried tongue and don’t feel comfortable doing so, please give it a shot. For me? Pretty please? You won’t regret it.

recipe after the jump

Tongue Tacos

I have a few ideas for next time, mainly adding spices and pepper to the braising liquid and crisping the meat in the oven just before serving, but this is a good, basic recipe.

1 beef tongue, 2 1/2 to 5 lbs.
salt
a bottle of your favorite beer
1 bay leaf
1 onion, quartered
4 fat cloves of garlic, smashed
corn tortillas
shredded lettuce
1/2 small onion, finely diced
handful of cilantro chopped
2 limes
1 avocado, sliced

Scrub beef tongue with salt to get rid of any slime. (I didn’t have any problems with slime, but took this step as a precaution.) Rinse thoroughly under running water and place in a large pot with beer, bay leaf, onion, and garlic. Add water to cover and bring to a boil, then immediately lower heat, cover, and simmer for four hours.

Remove tongue from pot and allow to cool. Once cool enough to handle, remove the outer layer of skin. (It’ll peel right off, but might give you the heebie-jeebies. Just a warning.) Place in a covered container with about 1 cup of the cooking liquid and refrigerate overnight.

The following day, preheat oven to 350 degrees. Place tongue and cooking liquid in a baking dish, cover with foil, and bake for one hour.

Remove from dish and set aside until just cool enough to handle. At this point, shred, dice, or thinly slice the tongue and place in warm oven until ready to serve.

Combine diced onion, chopped cilantro and juice of 1/2 lime in a bowl with salt and pepper to taste. Heat tortillas in a screaming hot cast iron pan, assemble tacos as desired, and dig in.

Star of wonder
Not quite a disco Christmas, but close.

We’re off to Louisiana bright and early this morning. Merry Christmas to those of you who celebrate it, and Happy Long Weekend to those of you who don’t!

For all Advent Calendar posts, click here.

recipe after the jump

Dirty Rice assembled from several sources

A good dirty rice is something you’ll never forget — well-seasoned, a little spicy, and a lot meaty. It’s a thing of beauty. It has a bit in common with my grandpa’s oyster dressing, only it uses beef instead of pork.

1 lb. ground beef
1 container giblets and livers, cleaned and chopped
2 large onions, chopped
3 large ribs celery, chopped
1 small bell pepper, chopped
1/2 cup green onions, chopped
1/2 cup parsley, chopped
salt, red pepper, black pepper, sage to taste
thyme, bay leaf and basil, optional
about 2 dozen raw oysters, or more if desired, liquor reserved
2 cups long grain rice
2 cups chicken stock + 2 cups water

Bring chicken stock and water to boil in medium pan. Add salt to taste and stir in rice. Bring back to a boil and lower heat to medium. Cook until level of liquid reaches rice, then cover tightly, lower heat, and cook until rice has absorbed all of the liquid.

In Dutch oven, brown ground beef over medium-high heat. Remove beef from pan and drain all but 1 tablespoon of oil from the pot. Fry chopped giblets and livers until brown. Add onions, celery, and bell peppers, and cook, stirring, until light brown. Add a cup of liquid (oyster liquor plus additional water) and cook covered over low heat until giblets, liver, and vegetables are tender.

Raise heat to medium and add oysters, stirring until the edges begin to frill. Return beef to pot and add parsley and green onions. Season aggressively with salt, red pepper, black pepper and sage (also thyme, bay leaf, and basil, if using). Add cooked rice and mix well. Adjust seasoning, if necessary.

What does a girl do for sustenance when an ice storm is raging outside and her kitchen counters and oven are laden with sweets? She turns to tried-and-true, low maintenance beef stew! And when her husband decides to make her baking duty even more pleasurable by playing ABBA’s Greatest Hits, well … you get the point of the post.

Opting for a simple approach to this stew given my already busy cooking schedule, I kept the ingredient list short — chuck roast, onions, salt and black pepper, chicken stock, baby portobello mushrooms, fresh thyme and sage. And instead of cooking this stew with copious amounts of red wine the way I usually do, I decided to use stout to give the stew an earthier, richer flavor; it paired nicely with the mushrooms and its richness held up to the buttered egg noodles we served them over.

If only I’d made enough for leftovers.

If that isn’t a sign, I don’t know what is.

Simple dinner last night, but it really hit the spot. I spread both sides of a fresh baguette with roasted red pepper and sun-dried tomato aioli, topped it with thinly sliced steak left over from Sunday’s kitchen adventure, and loaded it with arugula.

A good sandwich is hard to beat, even when it doesn’t rise to the level of bacon sarnie.