Popcorn

Well, since I still don't have electricity my blog-posting has been poor, I realize. I've been trying biscuits on for size but having trouble because I don't have a working oven. I'll get to that but in the meantime I've got something that I already know about in order to keep youse entertained while I quietly suffer in a metropolitan area that apparently knows as much about living as I do.

What I mean is popcorn. See, popcorn suffers from a lot of the same branding issues that many things do. I can remember a time in my life when popcorn was made only one way: in the microwave. That's how most popcorn gets made. However, we should all be wary of foodstuffs invented in our lifetime. Shelf-stable fats and artifical flavors are not our friends even if they seem to think so. We don't need friends like that. We can do better.

I'm suggesting you try one time for me to make your own popcorn in a pot on the stovetop. It's actually generally a bulletproof "recipe" (not really a recipe) and works in about th same amount of time as microwaving a bag and all its assorted health risks pointed out for you in the Wikipedia page. Some recipes call for heating oil first and then dropping the corn in but in this case it doesn't actually matter much. Start hot, start cold, just start. I use half canola oil and half butter or even better half bacon fat to give it a little kick. Nothing wrong with that. Some people shake the pot after it starts popping to coat. Others don't do this. I do it when I remember to. All that's important is you don't let it get too hot so as to avoid scorching. Let it pop covered until the popping slows and dump it in your biggest bowl, drizzle with melted butter and salt it. The best part is, the pot doesn't even really get dirty. Oh, you will not care to go back. You have taken the popcorn less travelled by and that has made all the difference.

I'm also rather fond of a trick that's easy to do and totally great and impressive and for some reason I don't do it all the time. I'm totally stealing this idea from a blog I read and forgot to bookmark but it really is a good one. Anyway, try making a nice big pot of popcorn and just let it sit and cool off. Or use leftover popcorn when you're fucking sick of it. The same thing happens with pancakes, right? Maybe infusing rum with pancakes and maple is a good idea, too. In fact, I'm sure it is. At any rate, dump a liter of rum on top of the cooked popcorn. Or pancakes. Probably a good idea to add a little extra butter and let it infuse for a few days or a week. Then strain out the popcorn and add a little extra butter for flavor. After sufficient time has passed strain all the solids out and then you'll have "fat wash" it by freezing it so's the fat solidifies and collects for you to remove it. Then strain it again while it's still really cold. Add coke and it's like a trip to the movies. Or if you're using pancakes and maple syrup and butter you would add milk or orange juice or something and then it's like breakfast.

Because I know you're secretly always wanted to have drunk for breakfast.

Oh, you can put anything in liquor for a week to infuse it. It's a great party trick provided you start the party a week earlier than it begins.

Icepocalypse '09!

It seems like just last month when we had a widespread power outage. Ah, Louisville. Just southern enough to completely hit the skids and lose all of our shit when the snow and ice hit and just Midwestern enough that it happens every year.

Anyway, I don't have much time on the Internet, but I'd like to share an anecdote about how some are coping with the outages.

I went to the Double Dragon for lunch before all this shit went down. They didn't have power. What they did have was gas woks, a gas deep fryer, a telephone and as much ice as they wanted. So, really. What do they need electricity for? They were literally woking by candlelight. It was amazing. The telephone doesn't need power either and he talleid it up by hand. Again, it was that immigrant Yankee ingenuity.

Of course, it was smoky and probably illegal because the hoods didn't work. It was also really cold. But I surely didn't mind! I'd do it again in a heartbeat! I wish I could eat at places without electricity everyday of the week! Hear that Health Department? Go Cards!

I'm also rather ashamed to admit it but I have spent more time at Denny's the past week than I have at any time since the Buechel location closed. They had electricity, heat, and Internet. Oh, Internet! So, I ate a burger and then ordered a club sandwich with cole slaw to go because I thought it was the thing on the menu that would be best later. And cold.

I mean, I'm cheap and don't use heat anyway, but I coast through on the kindness of my downstairs and upstairs neighbor providing a buffer between me and the elements. It coasts at about 50-55. Not this time! Poor kitty. Say, this isn't really about food? Well, hold yer horses. I've got a backlog of stuff to write about. Including my trip to the western part of town for piggy. Kill piggy! I think I'm going to be a pig farmer. How much do you figure a pig is worth? Kill piggy!

Anyway, I'll just write it by hand and scan it in later. Yeah. That makes sense.

Impress your friends!

I mean, that's half the reason we do these things, right? And, of course, when I say friends I mean girls. The ones at the dinner parties I'm always having. Well, here's a way to impress them in the morning! On a weekend!!

Hold on a second! It's Tuesday! Where were you over the weekend when I needed you! Where were you when I wanted you? Okay, I'm sorry.

Anyway, I'm going to give you a tip that's going to give you power over nature. You're going to beat it down with your right hand until it screams for mercy, drooling and babbling. And, no, that's not a filthy euphemism.

Well, this weekend you're going to make your own butter. This actually (obviously) creates at the same time your own buttermilk. And what does any self-respecting young person do with buttermilk? The same thing your cat would do! Make biscuits! And making butter is easy and pretty tasty and impressive. If you've made whipped cream before you can make butter. So, butter first, biscuits later. Butter is good for everything which is not true of biscuits. They're only good for most things.

Step one is to demonstrate your power over nature and churn out some butter in a rather suggestive manner. I imagine you're buying cream at the supermarket like I do. This is fine. It's going to be about 36% fat. The first step is to let your cream come to room temperature and sit there for a few hours. It's best to let the cream start to spoil just a little bit to bring out the flavor. Also, it's very important to have it at about 60 degrees for the churning. I'm not sure why. I just read the sentence ""Let the cream be at the temperature of 55° to 60°, by a Fahrenheit thermometer; this is very important" from the Household Cyclopedia of 1881 and I was sure it must be.

From here you just pour the cream into your mixing bowl and get a whisk and have at it. Actually, you can do this however you want. You can put it in a jar and shake it for an hour. You can put it in a food processor or use a Kitchen Aid or a hand mixer if you're a big titty-baby. The important thing is that it needs to be agitated to break down some molecules or some such and the fat (butter) separates in clumps from the non-fat AKA buttermilk. I would, however, recommend you do this the first time by hand. Otherwise you can't beat that tattoo onto Mother Nature like I promised we would. Use two cups of cream.

Now, it's important not to let anyone see you whisking cream because there's a built-in joke that goes with it. Like, if you want to hang a picture on the wall and need to use a "stud finder" and someone invariably points it at his chest? Same kind of thing.

Just beat the hell out of that cream. it goes through stages. Blah blah. You'll stop at stiff peaks and think to yourself "What? Only stiff peaks? How can I get through this?" Well, we're in this together. I promised you I would help you beat your cream out.

Keep going! You can do it! Things are easy once you get past the stiff peaks, anyway. And you'll notice right away when you get to butter, anyway. Clumps form at buttermilk falls out. And since we need one cup of buttermilk and butter is 80% fat and the cream we started with was 36%, right? So that's roughly half and half, right? Better then multiplying by 9/5 and adding 32. This kitchen is fast and loose. You'll use the buttermilk in the biscuits this weekend. For now, butter is enough. This is one scene that's going to be played my way.

After the butter forms--and it will most likely get caught in your whisk, anyway--you can pour out the fresh buttermilk and save that for the biscuits. Now, you could just stop here and use your hands to press out the rest of the liquid and have some awesome, awesome butter. To finish it "properly," you'll need to keep adding ice cold water to the mixing bowl, beat it out, drain it, add more, beat it, and drain it until the water runs out clear. Personally, I don't think that's necessary (well, maybe once) since this butter isn't going to last the day anyway, even if it is almost a half a pound. Call the doctor.

As to the buttermilk itself it's actually better that the stuff in the store, too. That stuff isn't exactly buttermilk like this stuff is. It's really just acidulated regular milk. What!?!

Anyway, this really only takes ten minutes is totally impressive and has a sweet, clean taste. And you decide how much salt to knead in, too. Or you could go further and clarify it, or make garlic butter, or whip it and make compound butter. Anything you'd use butter for except better. Here's what it looks like:



Also, here's more about butter than you need to know.

A cross between an Edward Hopper painting and a David Lynch movie.

Such was the Hickory House Barbecue described to me. Since it's only open Thursday, Friday, and Saturday I never seem to get there because I'm always working on Friday and Saturday and not really thinking about it on Thursday.

And just because I guess can't make them doesn't mean I don't know a thing or two about them. So, here's a rib primer. The only thing that differentiates a "baby back" rib from a "spare rib" is a cut from a band saw. The spare ribs are a tougher, and hence cheaper cut. Don't fret about that, though! See, collagen is part of what makes a meat tough, right? And does this cut not have a tendency to break down over the course of a long and luxurious low temperature heat bath? It sure does! It breaks down into gelatin, which is delicious. I was thinking about making a distasteful analogy about eating in KY, if you know what I mean, but I decided against it. Oh, what could have been. Anyway, this is part of what the smoker is doing. After all, you can't really have true argue-about-it barbecue without smoke. Also, as an interesting fact, meat wasn't originally smoked because it tastes good to humans but because it tastes bad to flies. After all, the word comes from barbacoa which has something to do with a hole in the ground. Nice. So, what I'm saying is, the back ribs are more expensive because they're easier to do, I think. Spare ribs require more time for more payoff. Or so they say. I wouldn't know. All my last batch of ribs did was contribute a few more pieces to my piggy bone collection.

Anyway, the Hickory House is not fooling around with their smoker. Check this shit out:



While it does technically have wheels I do believe that they have that shit on lock down. While I'm at it, here's a shot of the place from the other side.



This place is tiny. And generally empty. Actually, that's part of what I like so much about it. Not much in there has changed since 1980. This is one of my favorite things about the neighborhood, actually. The Pic Pac is the same way. It's like a little piece of Americana that forgot to die or get killed. It's got a moderately creepy vibe, it's on a little island between Preston and Shelby. It's kinda hard to walk to. There's a reason it took me this long to get there. Half of their dining room is taken up by refrigerators. I really wanted to open one. But I was too terrified.

Anyway, this time I wanted to get the ribs. You know, I kinda had to. A full slab is fifteen bucks. Okay, the prices have likely changed since 1980. But nothing else. And I don't think fifteen bucks is too outrageous. I mean, they did weigh over three pounds and whereas raw ribs run about $2.50 a pound at the Pic Pac. Of course, that's fifteen just for the meat, no sides. Not that you really need anything else, but I did want to try the German potato salad on account of all the Germanality of the neighborhood. But I couldn't, because I had already spent the rest of my dough on beer. Next Thursday, I will. They also have a smoked baked potato. I know that doesn't make any sense but that doesn't mean it's not a great idea. Oh, and the ribs came with two slices of white bread. I'm not sure why. I think they're to wipe your fingers on when you're finished.

I was a little confused when I got home, though. The rib tips were still totally attached to the spare rib. In case you didn't know, the tips are the part under the bone in a spare rib. It's mostly fat and cartilidge but there's some good meat in there, too. I'm not sure why they were still attached, actually. I guess a lot about this place has confused me. Much like a David Lynch movie it has managed to penetrate my brain but is now unsure what to do now that he's in there. Confusion was enough. Also, I like that the sauce isn't too sweet.

The Inauguration Luncheon.

I thought I would post this. (PDF) Part of it looks really good and part of it is clearly one of those "gourmet" things where they have to be super-flexible with timing and everything.

Sure, asparagus is more of a late spring/early summer thing and the dessert is really like a poor man's tarte tatin. And it calls for store-bought caramel sauce which is the easiest thing to make! Hell, you can make it in an office microwave with just sugar packets, butter patties, and half and half.

Still, it's nice to know our president will drink a paired champagne with his dessert.

Also, tell me those sweet potatoes don't sound outrageously delicious.

Also, I'm cooking some pig tails. I was thinking parboiled then braised in something like barbecue sauce. Better than the ribs, I hope.

Old Style uses the old style.

Wow! Something I predicted should come true seems to be coming true! Except that doesn't make any sense!

Old Style is reverting to old style of making beer. See, enough people got the idea that when Budweiser plowed all the regional brands that we may have given up something that was worth saving. Well, steps should be taken to resurrect these kinds of traditions. The difference here is the "krausening" of the beer. As I understand it that's a technique where they use some old beer to make new beer. Kind of like making yogurt. I won't pretend to understand exactly what that means. Also, the term "fully krausened" is a great synonym for "liquored up." Here's me getting fully krausened at Wrigley:



Also, a lot of people seem to conflate price with value much like they sometimes confuse weather with climate. I never understand why I see dirty rednecks buying Busch when Stroh's is cheaper, and in my mind, better. Sales of Bud Light are still dominant and yet I think it's an inferior beer to Old Style or Schlitz or Narragansett or Brain Pelt. Granted, those last two are slightly different cases. But still. Thus, I don't think it's a terrible idea to put the price point of this new Old Style up around the price of a regular domestic beer. Certainly, I'd pay it to drink a beer as my father would have drunk it provided that my father were from The next step, I suppose, is getting it on draft in normal hole-in-the-wall dives like Budweiser is. But I really believe this can happen. However, it will only happen if you want it. I'm through trying to drink beer for all of you.

Also, there is no acceptable synonym for "egg." Please don't try to think of one.

Cured meat.

On a tip from my pal Pat I decided to cure some meat. He showed me this recipe here and it looked pretty idiot-proof. I haven't done much charcuterie in the past aside from some things at Le Relais that I participated in more than actually did. And most of that was pate, anyway. I know, I know. Blah, blah, blah.

I don't know where that guy gets his pork loins but the ones around here are significantly larger. I bought a half loin from the Valumarket on Third Street down by the Vietnam Kitchen. That place, is great, actually. They also sell pig tails and chickent feet and have awide variety of ethnic weird stuff. You know, exactly the sort of thing I like. I also really like the trip down Southern Parkway.

I sliced even the half loin down the middle, too, since it was still far too thick. So, I'm going to have a rib side piece and a topside piece. I'm unsure what difference that will make.

Anyway, I left the meat in the cure way too long because I forgot about it and I substitued bourbon, of course, for the cognac. I also wrapped it in that old undershirt that I hate. I was hoping to give it more of a human flavor, I suppose. We'll see how this turns out in a few weeks. I tried a bit off the end and I'm worried that it's going to be too salty. We shall see.

Also, I threw some frog legs that were about to turn into a cure as well. That will also give a strange result, I fear. Maybe I'll see if I can smoke those somehow tomorrow.