How to use your jerk

Yesterday we made jerk paste.  Kick ass, gives-you-sniffles, in-yo-face! jerk paste.  Now we're going to cook with it.

I sliced half-inch thick coins of my spoils (booby prize?) from the game of Squash-n-Dash, then skewered them along with a Walla Walla sweet onion treated likewise.  I transferred a small amount of the jerk paste into a fresh bowl to avoid contaminating the full batch with bacteria from the meat.

Brush the jerk paste all over the meats and veggies.  (I made this again the next day at my folks' house and stippled the squash with a fork to allow the jerk paste to penetrate the veggies a little better.  My mom declined the jerk paste after trying a bit, so don't give this to people who don't like or can't handle a spicy meal.)

I took everything except the camera out to the grill.  While I was outside, I left some jasmine rice in the kitchen to cook.

[imagine bubbling rice & grilling ribs...]

The ribs got cooked for 7 mins each side at a medium-low heat, whereas I cooked the veggies for 7 mins each side on medium-high.

Twenty minutes later, dinner was ready.

Gnawing bones and licking fingers is the best part of this meal. 

But if you're in mixed company, maybe you should just lick your own fingers.

You Jerk Paste!

I almost entitled this post "It burns!".  Proceed at your own risk.

I mean it.  This stuff is H-O-T.

Here's another recipe from the "Dressed to Grill" cookbook.  I remember eyeing it years ago when I first got the book but never made it because I was afraid.

Afraid of these little inch-long orange things:

I am afraid of Scotch Bonnet peppers.  [shudder]  They are among the hottest peppers known.  What if I went to all the work of this recipe only to find it wasn't palatable?

But don't ya just love a good Jamaican jerk paste?  It's sweet, it's spicy, and it's lick-your-fingers succulent.

I had to make it.  Fear be damned.

I was surprised how many of the ingredients came from my garden: cilantro, thyme, onions, and green onions.  I used these little seed onions because I had accidentally pulled them up while weeding.

To make this jerk paste, gather:

• 2-4 Scotch Bonnet peppers, quartered (remove seeds or use jalapenos to reduce the heat and for god's sake, use gloves!)
• 1 small yellow onion, quartered
• 3 whole green onions, cut into 1" pieces
• 4 quarter-sized slices of fresh ginger
• 3 cloves garlic
• 1/2 cup packed coarsely chopped cilantro
• 2 T kosher salt
• 1 T each: ground allspice, dried thyme (I used fresh), ground pepper
• 1/4 cup packed brown sugar
• 1/4 orange or lime juice
• 1/4 cup soy sauce
• 2 T vegetable oil

Throw into a food processor 2 peppers, the onions, ginger, garlic, and cilantro.  Process into a paste. 

Use gloves and extreme caution when you cut the peppers!  I prepped everything else first, then cut the peppers so that I wouldn't risk transferring any of the capcaicin from the knife or cutting board to my face or eyes.  Trust me on this.  As someone who once got jalapeno juice in her eye and another time used eucalyptus tissues on her girly bits, I can attest to the fact that you do NOT want to touch any mucous membranes with capcaicin on your hands. 

Remember that I nearly called this post "It Burns!" for a very good reason.  I think that's warning number 3.

Now that you have a paste, taste about 3 molecules for heat - hot enough?  I used 3 peppers and was glad not to have thrown in the 4th.  This stuff makes me run for milk and clears my sinuses as it is.

Next add the salt, herbs, and sugar.  Process well.

Finally throw in all the liquid ingredients.

Brush it on meat and/or veggies and hit the grill.  In 20 minutes you'll have a mouth-watering reason to lick your fingers and suck back the palate-cooling adult beverage of your choice.

Store leftover sauce in the fridge for up to a month.  I bet it would freeze well, too.

Some Like It Hot

My parents gave us a spice rub from Costco about a year ago and to be honest, I just gave it away.  It was very salty and the spices were, well, boring.  It had pepper and something red - probably paprika - but no oomph, nothing to blow your skirt up.

Not so with this spice rub.  The salt is but a minor player in this recipe, singing back-up to the Aretha, Mariah, and Christina of the spice world: pepper, chili powder, and cinnamon.

When I first made this recipe, it was because I had all the ingredients.  This time I had to go get many of the spices.  Rather than buy bottles of spices, which would make this ridiculously expensive, head for a grocery store that sells bulk spices (Fred Meyer has these) and get just what you need.

In a bowl, mix together the following:

• 
  
  1/4 cup kosher salt
• 
  
  2 T coarsely ground pepper
• 
  
  1 T ground coriander
• 
  
  3 T ground cumin
• 
  
  2 T each: paprika, dried thyme, *chili powder (see update below re: chili powder)
• 
  
  1/4 cup packed brown sugar
• 
  
  2 t ground cinnamon

This is what it looks like.  I wish you could smell it.

The sugar caramelizes on the meat as it cooks and the spices blacken.  It's spicy but oh-so-good!

The recipe suggests these marinating times:

• shrimp/scallops - 15 mins
• chicken breats & thighs - 30-60 mins
• beef & lamb - 60 mins
• pork chops & tenderloin - 45-60 mins

I bet if you mixed this with some yogurt and marinated some chicken in that, it would be delicious and tender.  Try it, and tell me what you think!

And anytime you're marinating over an hour, put it into the fridge.

**UPDATE**

My neighbor told me that the 2nd batch of rub didn't have the same kick as the first one.  I may have used cayenne pepper instead of chili powder.  Make it per the recipe & add some cayenne if you want it spicier.

Dressed to Grill

A few years ago I was in Metropolitan Market - it might have still been Queen Anne Thriftway at the time - when I happened upon a book signing.

A cookbook signing.

A grilling cookbook for women.

I bought it and made a few things from it, including a spice rub.

And then it languished on my bookshelf for the next 8 years.  It moved from my townhouse to my house, where sat neglected and forgotten because I'd discovered other sources for recipes.

A couple of weeks ago this little cookbook came back into my life.  My neighbors' freezer had thawed - their kids had left it open during an Otter Pop dash between video games - and they brought us some deer steaks, imploring us to eat them.  I remembered the ancient tub of spice rub in the back of a drawer, pulled it out, and sprinkled it all over the venison.  We took it back to them later than day for a BBQ.

They oohed, aahed, and exclaimed at the deliciousness of the rub.  Reaching back into my memory, I recalled where I'd gotten the recipe - you guessed it: it came from "Dressed to Grill".

So I dusted off the book and have been making some of its recipes again. 

The first thing I made was the spice rub and took a fresh batch next door.  I'll post the recipe for you tomorrow.

Amélie, artichokes, and vinaigrette

Please excuse my French today.  I'm blaming the artichokes & the head cold.  I had my first artichoke in France, so eating one always brings up lots of Proustian memories.  (I hated reading Proust in college.)

"Vous, au moins, vous ne risquez pas d'être un légume : même un artichaut a du coeur."

"At least you'll never be a vegetable - even artichokes have hearts."

- Amélie Poulain in the film Amélie

Have you ever seen the movie Amélie?  It's such a fantastic and sweet movie.  I saw it in the movie theatre in Paris after having spent the day strolling around Montmartre.  I had no idea what the movie was about, other than that my friend, Nathalie, insisted we see it.  It was a fantastic bit of kismet to have wandered Montmartre the same day, as that's the neighborhood where the movie takes place.  I had even gone through the subway station shown in the movie on the way to the theatre.

The line quoted above is when she's talking about the vegetable vendor, Collignon, who's a heartless jerk.  One of my favorite scenes in the movie is when the vendor's assistant is spouting off rhymes about what a jerk Collignon is, just like a little kid would do.  It ends with him calling Collignon a vas deferens (which sort of rhymes with Collignon in French). 

If you haven't seen Amélie, check it out.  It's utterly charming.  Unless you don't speak French and hate subtitles.  Then forget it.

Bizarre tangent, I'm sorry.  This damn decongestant is making me loopy. 

After 4 years of trying I finally picked and ate my first artichoke from my own yard.

Here it is before:

And after:

The French call artichokes "le plat des pauvres" (poor man's dish) because there's more when you're done than when you started.

Les artichauts, c'est un vrai plat de pauvres. C'est le seul plat que quand t'as fini de manger, t'en as plus dans ton assiette que quand tu as commencé ! (COLUCHE, French comedian)

Atichokes, now there's a real poor guy's food.  It's the only dish where you've got more on your plate when you're done than when you'd started.

The first artichoke I ever ate was in France with the Blanchet family.  I had no idea how to eat it.  Once I got to the choke Jean Claude said to me, "you won't like that part, give it to me".  Marie-Claude, my surrogate mom, shooed him away from my prize and showed me how to scrape the choke from the heart, the best part.

Délicieux!

That memory comes back to me every time I eat an artichoke.  Vous me manquez énormément, mes amis.

Here's a recipe for a traditional French vinaigrette to be used as a dressing for summer salads and a dip for artichoke leaves.

In a small bowl, mix 1 tablespoon Dijon mustard with 1 tablespoon red wine vinegar and salt/pepper to taste.  Slowly add 3 tablespoons of vegetable oil (not olive oil), one at a time, stirring well to emulsify.  Use immediately.

For variation, mix in any of the following:

• fresh chopped or dried herbs, such as tarragon, savory, or basil
• minced shallots
• roasted garlic paste.

Bon appétit!

Squash-n-Dash

August is the official opening of a perennial sport in the Pacific Northwest, called "Squash-n-Dash".  Here's how you play:

1. In the spring plant 2-3 summer squash plants of any variety.  Most people plant a variety of zucchini or yellow squash.  My plant of choice was yellow squash and the egg shells were to prevent blossom-end rot.

2. Weed, water, and watch for the next 3-4 months.

3. In August, you'll start getting squash.  Lots and lots and lots of squash.  So many squash, in fact, that you now have enough to give to friends, co-workers, neighbors, and strangers driving slowly past your house with their windows down.

4. Go to farmers market and purchase, for $2, the type of squash you didn't plant because "oh, wouldn't those be great grilled?!".

5. Later that day, a neighbor, friend, co-worker, or person driving slowly past your house with the windows down will drop off a box of squash bounty, grin widely, and dash away. 

You, my friend, have been an unwitting player in a game of "Squash-n-Dash".  It's the rick-roll of the gardening world.

On a positive note, I got to introduce my 62-year-old father to the wonder of grilled squash.  He texted me the next day to tell me that he'd bought his own set of BBQ skewers so that he could start grilling vegetables.

Wonder if he'd like some squash?

Herbage

Would the real parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme please stand up?

I cheated last week.  I used stock photos.  I hang my head in shame and confess my sins to you now.  The above pics are mine.  Really.

I'm so sorry.

Moving on.

I'm trying to expand my herb vocabulary, by which I mean planting herbs beyond the ones shown above.  I recently bought a stevia plant, a natural sweetener, and a savory plant, a key ingredient in herbes de provence.

Unfortunately it's been too hot to transplant so they, along with a few lemon cucumber plants, are languishing in the shade of my lilac until either the temps cool a bit or we get some rain.  I have a feeling it's going to be a while.

Last summer a friend gave me several bunches of fresh herbs, which I dried hanging from a hook in the kitchen.  I'm ashamed to admit that there are still lavendar bits on the lamp shade.  Maybe I should dust one of these days.

Nah.  It'll only get schmutz on it next time, right?

Drying your own herbs is so cheap.  I love that because I'm on the frugal side.  Why buy it if you can make it yourself?  Tie it up tightly with some twine, hang it up, and then crush it into jars when it's crinkly.  Easy peasy.  I'll collect some and hang it pretty soon.

Next up is heading to my grandma's house for some mint.  I'm going to dig some up and put in a pot on my back porch.  G-man loves mint tea in the winter and it's silly to let all that mint go to waste.  I'll also cut a whole bunch down to dry.

My yard also has:

• marjoram - new to my garden this year
• dill - I hope it will ripen next month when it's time for pickles
• chives - plan to snip it & freeze it
• lavendar - I dried lots last summer, so won't do any this year
• parsley & cilantro that have both bolted... darn
• basil - whomever said to plant basil under tomatoes ignored the fact that tomatoes get bushy and basil needs sun... liar liar pants on fire!
• oregano - this stuff's like mint: once you have it, it'll sprout out of any crack or crevice it can find in the yard

Once I get my herbs put up for the winter, I'll figure out how to use them!