Gone Shoppin'

 fig. a:  Old Market, Charleston, SC

Excuse us while we do a little last-minute shopping.

We'll be back (with stories to tell!) shortly.

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!

aj

Toasts & Roasts

 fig. a:  holidaze 2013

We hold these truths to be self-evident:

1.  The holiday season is upon us.

2.  Good God, there's nothing like a perfectly seasoned, perfectly rosé slab of roast beef--preferably one that's then sliced extra-thin, and served with horseradish.*

Okay.  Yes, the holidays are here.  And that means it was time for our annual "...an endless banquet" Christmas spectacular.

 fig. b:  all aboard!

But, the thing is, sometimes LIFE confronts you with an unexpected storm, and, suddenly, you have to chart a new course.

That's kind of what happened this year.  Everything's fine now, there's no need to worry, but something came up that forced us to make a last-minute adjustment.  What it meant was that the Christmas spectacular didn't actually take place at our place this year.  Consequently, we toned things down a bit, scaled things back, and got "back to the basics."

The holiday bash that resulted might not have been quite as wide open as it had been in the past, it might not have been quite as extravagant, but it was still pretty spectacular, and it was much more of a collaborative effort--and all the better for it.  For all these things, we owe our undying gratitude to our hostess.  (TY, RD!)  Such a lovely apartment, such a wonderful atmosphere, such a great time!!

 fig. c:  S.S. Shamrock!

Originally, we'd come up with this vague Lake Champlain "holiday steamship" theme.  The "point of departure" was meant to be our apartment.  I guess we ended up docking just a little ways up the coast.  And we exchanged the S.S. Champlain for the S.S. Shamrock.

Did I mention that there was a pretty significant snowstorm the day of the party?  No big deal.  We're Montrealers, we know how to deal with such situations.

Anyway, "back to basics" meant simpler preparations.  It also meant fewer last-minute preparations.  But it was still pretty plentiful.  The spread:

 fig. d:  rye!

1 spiral-cut, cob-smoked, maple-glazed Vermont ham with mostarda cherries
1 roast beef with horseradish
nordic shrimp salad
smoked trout & smoked sturgeon platter with cream cheese
crudités & herb dip
baked artichoke dip & corn chips
cheese platter (featuring 1 Jasper Hill Moses Sleeper + 1 Shelburne Farms cloth-bound cheddar)
freshly baked Danish rye & corn rye loaves 

Spanish clementines
gingerbread cookies
festive fudge 

AEB rum punch
aged egg nog

 fig. e:  fudge!

And, yes, getting back to that point #2:  a perfectly executed roast beef is a thing of beauty.  It also seemed like just the kind of thing that would have been served in the dining room of an elegant steamship back in the day.

We discovered a method for a simple roast beef that we really love--and that's proven to be foolproof--earlier this year in the pages of The New York Times.  The recipe accompanied an article on Louisville's enigmatic Henry Bain sauce.  Though the sauce was designed to be served as a condiment with everything from steaks to game, it's a stone-cold natural with roast beef.  In fact, Sam Sifton claimed that this may be the sauce's "highest use" in his article, so he turned to Tyler Kord, the sandwich master at New York's No. 7 Sub, for a killer roast beef recipe to go along with his recipe for Henry Bain.  And that's exactly what he got.  I liked the recipe for Henry Bain--it was definitely unlike anything I'd ever tasted before, and, it's true, it made for a tasty accompaniment--but I absolutely loved the recipe for that roast beef.

As many of your probably know already, getting perfect results with roast beef can be a little tricky.  Nobody likes a roast that's extremely undercooked, and overcooking a roast is all too easy.  This recipe relies primarily on ambient heat to gently warm the roast all the way to its centre, resulting in that ideal rosy hue, not to mention an extremely savoury crust, optimal juiciness, and some outrageous pan juices.

I've been impressed with Kord's recipe since the first time I tried it, but recently I made an adjustment to it that's even more to my liking:  I added ground caraway seeds to its spicy-garlicky rub, giving it a finish that was very much in tune with the nordic characteristics of our Christmas party spread.

Off-Oven Roast Beef  

1 beef roast, like top, eye or bottom round, approximately 3 lbs
1 tbsp kosher salt
1 tbsp freshly ground black pepper
1/2 tbsp freshly ground caraway seeds
3 cloves garlic, peeled and minced
1 tbsp olive oil
red pepper flakes to taste

prepared horseradish or horseradish cream

Remove the roast from the refrigerator.  

 fig. f:  raw!

In a small bowl, mix together the salt, pepper, caraway seeds, garlic, olive oil and red pepper flakes to create a paste.  Rub this all over the roast.  

 fig. g:  rubbed!

Place the roast in a cast-iron skillet or roasting pan, fat side up, and allow the roast to come to room temperature, about 1 to 2 hours.

About 15 minutes before you want to begin roasting, preheat your oven to 500º F.

Place the roast in the oven.  Cook, undisturbed, for 5 minutes per pound.  [I tend to go a little over this recommendation:  e.g. 15 minutes for a 2.6-lb roast, and 30 minutes for 5.25-lb roast.]

Turn off the oven.  Do not open the oven door.  Leave roast to continue cooking, completely undisturbed, for two hours.

After the two hours is up, remove the roast from the oven.  Slice as thinly as possible.  

 fig. h:  roasted!

Serve with pan juices and prepared horseradish.  Or use to make whatever your preferred kind of roast beef sandwich is. 

[recipe based very closely on Tyler Kord's Off-Oven Roast Beef recipe, as featured in The New York Times, January 17, 2013] 

Just how good is this roast beef?  Well, the photos above are of the 2 3/4-lb roast we made the day after we made a 5 1/2-lb roast for our party--a 5 1/2-lb roast that completely disappeared (as tasty things often do).  You see, the next day we found ourselves still having major roast beef cravings, so I went out and picked up another roast and we whipped up another batch--this one served with roasted broccoli and a mixed greens salad.  And horseradish, of course.

The point is:  this recipe is a keeper any time of year, but it's great for the holidays.  Great for a party spread. Great for pleasing a crowd.  Great for making sandwiches.

Happy holidaze 2013!  Eat well!  Drink well!  Be well!

aj

*Actually, roast beef's a pretty lovely thing to serve with radishes à la crème, too.  In fact, the two combined would make for a pretty amazing open-faced roast beef sandwich.  Just a thought...

One Great Dish

A quarter of the way through David Tanis' new cookbook, One Good Dish:  The Pleasures of a Simple Meal, he features a dish that's somewhat deceivingly called "Radishes à la crème."  Recipes that include the phrase "...à la crème" tend to be on the rich side.  They also tend to be served warm.  This dish, however, is neither--instead, it's cool, fresh, and light, and yet perfect for late fall and early winter.

"Radishes à la crème" is a remarkable salad--one of those rare dishes that far exceeds the sum of its parts--but Tanis is awfully humble when it comes to introducing it.  He writes:  "Only four ingredients--radishes, salt, pepper, and crème fraîche--yet they make an extremely tasty raw vegetable first course."

He must have felt a little stronger about this recipe than he's letting on here.  He must have been aware of both its surprisingly wonderful flavours and its strong visual appeal.  He must have realized that, in many ways, this was a dish that summed up the vision (and the genius) behind One Good Dish.  He must have known that this is not just one good dish, it's one great dish.  After all, "Radishes à la crème" is granted pride of place on the cookbook's cover

 fig. a:  please judge this book by its cover

and it's also afforded a two-page photographic spread (as opposed to just a single photograph) on the inside.

 fig. b:  inside scoop

And he was right to do so.  It's a stunner.  No matter how much you might like radishes and crème fraîche, you can't possibly imagine that they could possibly taste this great together.  And if you're not really a fan of either, this recipe will make you a believer.

Now would be a perfect time to make "Radishes à la crème."  While so many other fall vegetables have already disappeared, you can still find nice radishes.  And with holiday meals often on the heavy side, this recipe provides a quick and easy way to lighten things up.  Plus, it looks so pretty.  And if you choose the right radishes, they even resemble snowflakes a little.

 fig. c:  perfect for the holidays

Use the freshest, tastiest, most beautiful radishes you can find.  Use a nice crème fraîche, too.  If you don't make your own, Liberté brand, here in Quebec, makes a very good commercial version.

Don't skimp on the salt or pepper, either.  This recipe only calls four ingredients, after all, and it costs virtually nothing to make.  Use a nice sea salt, like Maldon salt, and grind the best black pepper you can find over your salad right before serving.

Radishes à la crème 

1/2 pound radishes (red, black, white, watermelon, or even daikon)
sea salt
1/4 cup crème fraîche, or a little more, if you like
a few drops of milk (optional)
freshly ground black pepper 

Use a very sharp knife or, even better, a mandoline, to slice the radishes as thinly and uniformly as possible.  Lay them out on a large plate or in a bowl.  Sprinkle sea salt over top.  Garnish with a whole radish or two, if you like. 

If your crème fraîche is thick, stir it vigorously with a spoon for about a minute to lighten it up, or thin it with a few drops of milk.  Spoon it generously over the sliced radishes.  You can either dollop the crème fraîche in the center of the arrangement, or drizzle it all over the radishes.  Finish dressing the salad by grinding black pepper over top according to your taste. 

Serves 4. 

Optional embellishments: 

1 tbsp fruity olive oil, drizzled over top 

spicy radish sprouts 

chopped chives  

(We haven't tried any of these variations yet, but they all sound great.) 

This salad is quite simply our favourite dish right now.  We literally can't get enough of it.  We'll finish off a plate of "Radishes à la crème" and immediately start talking about the next batch we're going to make.

But there's much, much more to One Good Dish than just "Radishes à la crème."  In fact, when Tanis was in town to launch his book at Appetite for Books earlier this fall, he didn't even prepare this recipe.  Instead, with the help of Jonathan Cheung, the store's owner, he presented a classic warm lentil salad à la française, some simple cucumber pickles, and a pumpkin seed brittle, all straight out of the book.  I'm not sure he realized it at the time, but this trio was also ideal for a climate like Montreal's--all three were recipes that we could easily prepare even in deepest winter (given we can find some hydroponic cukes).

Finally, in addition to lovely salads, dips and spreads, soups and stews (meals you can eat with only a spoon), dishes that should ideally be made in a hot cast-iron pan, simple desserts, and so on, One Good Dish also comes with a glowing recommendation from none other than Yotam Ottolenghi.  Will this become the next Plenty?  I'm not sure, but One Good Dish is definitely one of our top picks of the year.

aj

p.s. For more on David Tanis and the WWDD lifestyle, check out this post on Tanis's pho bo, this one on his New Mexico-style green chile stew, or this early one on his Swiss chard gratin (a variation on which also appears in One Good Dish).

Corn Rye

Corn and rye make for one of my all-time favourite combinations, but this recipe has nothing to do with corn mash or bourbon.  It's just a really nice recipe for a sourdough rye, featuring a couple of ingredients that are quintessentially American:  corn and molasses.

I got the idea after picking up some beautiful stoneground corn meal from Dexter's Grist Mill in Sandwich, MA back in August when we were visiting Cape Cod.

 fig. a:  corn meal

This corn meal was excellent, but it was also much coarser than I was used to, and a little too coarse to make my corn bread with.  (Read:  rustic!).  I had the idea of using it in a sourdough mixture so that the corn meal and its kernels would have the time to go through a slow fermentation process, retaining their size and their colour, but becoming more pleasantly edible.  I've always loved the combination of corn and rye, and bringing them together with molasses in a riff on my Danish sourdough rye made a lot of sense to me.

The results have been fantastic.  The kind of bread that you can't wait to turn into hot buttered toast in the morning.  The kind of bread that makes lunchtime a true joy.  The kind of bread that has you running home in the evening so that you can enjoy some more with your dinner.  That kind of bread.

My sourdough method is borrowed entirely from Chad Robertson's from Tartine Bread.  Moreover, my rye loaves--like my basic rye, my caraway rye, my Danish rye, and now this Corn Rye--are all based on Robertson's sourdough rye recipe from the very same book.  For optimum results, you should follow his directions closely.  Here, I'm just providing the measurements (in weight) and baker's percentages that you need to make two large loaves (roughly 2 pounds each).

Sourdough Corn Rye 

200 grams leaven (20%) 

600 grams warm water (80º F, ideally) + an additional 50 grams of warm water (65%)

100 grams fancy molasses (10%)  

[total hydration:  750 grams (75%), including the molasses] 

600 grams AP flour (60%) 

300 grams rye flour (30%) 

100 grams stoneground corn meal (preferably coarse) (10%) 

 [total flour:  1 kg (100%)]

20 grams of kosher salt (2%)

Photographic documentation:

  fig. b:  after first shaping

Here, the loaves have been given their initial shaping.  They've rested for 30 minutes.  They're just about to get their final shaping.

 fig. c:  after second shaping

Here's loaf #1 after its final shaping.

 fig. d:  before dusting

This loaf has received its final shaping and it's been placed in a rice flour-dusted towel in a bowl.  It's also upside down.  It will get dusted with more rice flour, it will get covered by the towel, and it will then go through its final fermentation process over the course of a few hours.

 fig. e:  dusted!

Now the same loaf has been dusted, and it's waiting to get wrapped in the towel.

 fig. f:  half loaf, full loaf

These are the two finished loaves.  One is already half-gone.

 fig. g:  corn rye

Finally, this is an interior view of that half loaf.  You can see plenty of evidence of the coarse corn meal.  And it it looks moist, that's because it is.  In fact, it's a real keeper.  Still delicious days after baking (if you haven't eaten it by then).

This would  make a great loaf for a Thanksgiving feast.  It could also make for an excellent bread stuffing, so you might want to bake some extra and let it stale a little before the Big Day.  Just stick with those traditional, honest-to-goodness American flavours when you construct your stuffing.

Happy baking.  And happy Thanksgiving!

aj

Top Ten #52

1.  Joseph Conrad, Heart of Darkness



2.  Mammane Sani et son Orgue, La musique electronique du Niger (Sahel Sounds)

sample track:  "Lamru"



3.  Lola (1961), dir. Jacques Demy



4.  homemade smoked andouille sausage



5.  bazaar season, Montreal

6.  outdoor screening of Pink Floyd:  Live at Pompeii (1972), dir. Maben, 2013 Montréal Festival du Nouveau Cinéma

sample track:  "Echoes"



7.  Hudson Valley + the Catskills in the fall

8. Vin Vignerons Vinyles, SAT, Montreal, November 4, 2013 (whoa, Nelly!)



9.  A Band Called Death (2012), dir. Covino & Howlett

sample track:  "Politicians in My Eyes"

10.  leftover turkey, and the wonderful things you can do with it

aj

Divinyles

 fig. a:  VVV

Will "Vin Vignerons Vinyles" be the blowout of the year (possibly even the decade), as some are predicting?

What happens when you bottle a talent pool that includes Catherine Breton, The Four Horseman of the Oenocalypse, Foodlab, Joe Beef, Joshua Applestone, Café Myriade, and Walshy Fire & Jillionaire in the confines of the Sociéte des Arts Technologiques and agitate vigorously?

Will the bottle explode?

There's only one way to find out.

Tonight!
Monday, November 4
SAT
1201, boul. St-Laurent
from 7pm until...
$45 ("admission et bouffe")

Brought to you by the good, good people at Vinnovation.

aj

Thanksgiving Just Keeps on Giving

 fig. a:  apple-picker

Canadian Thanksgiving 2013 began with our annual apple-picking excursion to Covey Hill.  There, we picked a couple of buckets of apples (Empires, Northern Spys, Russets, and Spartans, mainly), bought a couple of baskets more,

 fig. b:  apples

and picked up some Flemish Beauty pears, as well.

 fig. c:  pears

The sun was bright, the leaves were vibrant, and it was downright warm (felt more like peach-picking weather than apple-picking weather), and we got a chance to get all caught up with our good friend M. Safian.  And on the drive back we started thinking about all the possibilities we now possessed in the back of our car:  apple pie, baked pears, apple strudel, pear chutney, corn bread stuffing, squash soup, and so on.

The next day, when we actually got around to making our Thanksgiving meal, it was quite the spread.  Not surprisingly, both apples and pears played an important part.

The menu:

smoked Cajun andouille appetizer

sweet potato & peanut soup (with apple cider) 

roasted turkey
corn bread stuffing (with apples & pears)
roasted romanesco cauliflower
roasted Brussels sprouts
roasted carrots
mashed potatoes (with turnips and parsnips)
cranberry sauce
Georgian plum sauce 

mixed greens salad (with apples & pears) 

cheese plate (with pears) 

apple pie
pumpkin pie

Our turkey this year was a huge hit--it was also just plain huge.  When Michelle heard through the grapevine that Société Orignal was offering turkeys raised by the one-and-only M. Bertrand, she put through an order for a "small turkey" immediately.  The turkey that she received was beautiful, and unbelievably fresh (it had just been slaughtered two days before), but it was also almost 20 pounds (!)--the very largest we'd ever made, and not exactly the ideal size for our preferred high-temperature turkey method.  Nevertheless, we soldiered on.  And by now Michelle's got this approach down to such a science that the results were truly phenomenal.  Two tricks of the trade:

1.  Salt your bird generously, inside and out, at least one day in advance, and preferably two. 

2.  When you bring your bird to room temperature before roasting it, cover the bird's breast with ice packs to keep it cool.  Remove the ice packs right before roasting.  Doing so will ensure that the breast meat does not get overcooked, but instead will turn out juicy and succulent (already, even without this fix, we found that the high-temperature method produced the juiciest birds we'd ever encountered, but if you're roasting a larger bird, like we were, this step is essential).

Our cranberries were pretty special, too.  They came from Société Orignal, as well, and they were dry-picked, not wet-harvested.  Neither of us had ever tasted a cranberry sauce with a deeper flavour.

Our stuffing was also rather deluxe.  I've been trying to convince Michelle of the merits of corn bread stuffing for years, but she's always remained steadfastly loyal to stuffing made with white bread or sourdough.  This year amounted to a breakthrough, though.  Michelle officially declared this year's model to be her very favourite of all-time.*

AEB Corn Bread Stuffing 

1 extra-large 3x batch of corn bread
onion
celery
red sweet peppers
parsley
sage
roasted hazelnuts
2 chopped apples
2 chopped pears
bourbon
salt & freshly ground black pepper
butter 

Preheat oven to 425º F. 

Sauté the onion in butter until translucent.  Add the celery and red peppers and continue sautéing until softened.  Add the corn bread, the herbs, the nuts, and the fruit and mix gently but thoroughly (preferably with your hands, once you've allowed the onion mixture to cool slightly).  Adjust the seasoning with salt & pepper.  Spritz liberally with bourbon.  Pour a generous amount of melted butter over top and mix again.  The stuffing should be just slightly moistened by the combination of bourbon and butter.   

Place in a buttered baking dish and bake for 30 minutes covered in foil, and 15 minutes uncovered.

Anyway, we thoroughly enjoyed our meal, everyone ate heartily, and we had so much left over that we sent our guests home with doggy bags--and still we had copious leftovers.  The ultimate prize, however, was that massive turkey carcass.  It still had a fair bit of meat left on it, and it had been roasted to perfection--in other words, it had all the makings of a beautiful batch of turkey broth.  So I cut it up into portions, put them in bags, and froze them.

And the next week, when all the other leftovers had disappeared days ago, and my taste for turkey was coming back to me, I got to work on my new (since last year) favourite post-Thanksgiving ritual:  making turkey gumbo.

Thing is, because making turkey gumbo is "my new... favourite post-Thanksgiving ritual," I was already thinking about the gumbo before we'd even roasted our bird.  And because I knew I wanted to make my turkey gumbo with real Cajun andouille (a spicy, smoked Louisiana classic), and I was pretty sure locating real Cajun andouille would be a little difficult 'round these parts, I made my own.  Then, because I was smoking anyways, I decided to smoke some additional turkey legs, just for the hell of it (and in case my turkey gumbo needed to be bumped up a little).  So on Thanksgiving Sunday, while Michelle had the turkey in the oven, I had the smoker smokin' away--which is how we ended up serving freshly smoked andouille as an appetizer.

How, exactly, do you make Cajun-style andouille?  Well, I based my batch on a recipe from Bruce "America's Premier Sausage Maker" Aidells:

Cajun-style Andouille 

3 tbsp sweet Hungarian paprika
2 tbsp minced garlic
2 tbsp kosher salt
2 tbsp sugar
1 tbsp freshly ground black pepper
2 tsp ground cayenne pepper
1 tsp crushed red pepper flakes
1/2 tsp dried thyme
1/4 tsp ground mace
1 tsp curing salts (optional--for cold-smoking only)
5 lbs pork butt, fat and lean separated, and cut into 2" chunks
1/2 cup water
wide hog casings 

Mix all the spices and herbs in a small bowl.  Separate the meat and the fat into two bowls, and rub each thoroughly with the spice mixture.  Cover and refrigerate overnight. 

Grind the lean meat in a meat grinder using a 3/8 inch plate.  Grind the fat using a 1/4-inch plate.  Mix the meat and fat together in a large bowl, add the cold water, and knead and squeeze until the water is absorbed and the spices are thoroughly blended. 

Stuff the mixture into wide hog casings, and shape into medium-sized links. 

If you are hot smoking, dry for at least two hours in a cool place, then hot smoke at about 225º F, turning every 30 minutes, until an instant-read thermometer inserted in the end of a sausage shows 155º to 160º F.  This should take about 1 1/2-2 hours.

If you are cold smoking, you'll have to add the curing salts during the first step, and carefully follow instructions on how to cold smoke.  Aidells recommends an extra-long cold-smoking period for Cajun andouille:  "at least 12 hours" (!). 

Hot-smoked andouille sausages are ready to eat as soon as they've been smoked.  Cold-smoked sausages are not--they must be fully cooked first.

[recipe from Bruce Aidell's Complete Sausage Book]

 figs. d & e:  andouille:  before & after

While you're at it, might as well smoke a few turkey legs, right?  Just brine them for at least a few hours, and preferably overnight, then hot smoke them alongside your sausages, making sure to mist them with apple juice every 30 minutes or so.  Smoke until the juices run clear when you slice down to the bone, about 1 1/2 to 2 hours.

The results?  The skin turned out a little rubbery, but the meat was dreamy:  incredibly juicy and wonderfully smoky.  I just peeled the skin off and sliced the meat as thinly as possible before serving.  And I made sure to keep some for my gumbo.

 fig. f:  smoked turkey

AEB Turkey & Sausage Gumbo 

for the broth: 

1 turkey carcass (recuperate as much quality meat from this carcass as possible, and put aside for the gumbo)
onions
carrots
potatoes
celery
garlic
2 bay leaves
12 peppercorns
salt to taste 

Make yourself a rich turkey broth by adding all the ingredients above to a large stock pot, covering with water, bringing the pot to a boil, and simmering for at least a few hours.  Make sure to skim the fat thoroughly.  Turkey broth might be my absolute favourite, and this method ought to produce much more than the 4-5 cups of stock you need for the gumbo.  Freeze it and save it for another worthy occasion. 

for the gumbo: 

recuperated turkey meat from the carcass 

recuperated meat from home-smoked turkey pieces (optional, but highly recommended)    

bones from home-smoke turkey pieces (again, optional, but highly recommended)  

4 smoked Cajun andouille sausages (highly recommended), or some other quality smoked sausage (like a kielbasa, for instance), cut into 1/4" "coins"

1 batch Cajun roux (made with 1/2 cup vegetable oil and 1/2 cup AP flour [you can find complete instructions on making a true Cajun roux here])
1 large onion, diced
3-4 stalks of celery, diced
2-3 sweet red peppers
1 green pepper (preferably something flavourful, like an Italian fryer or a cubanelle)
4-5 cups rich turkey broth
2 bunches scallions, white & green parts, washed & chopped
1 small bunch fresh parsley, chopped
4-6 fresh sage leaves, julienned
kosher salt & freshly ground black pepper
1 tbsp gumbo filé 

As John Thorne would say, "First, you make your roux."  When your true Cajun roux is as deep and dark as you like it, add your chopped onions, turn the heat back up to medium or medium-low, and sauté until soft.  Add the celery and peppers and sauté for a few minutes more.   

Slowly add the broth and stir or whisk it in carefully, so that your roux doesn't separate. 

Add the bones from the smoked turkey pieces (if using), the scallions, parsley, and sage and bring to a boil, then turn down the heat and simmer your gumbo gently for about 1 1/2 hours, or until it shimmers.  Afterwards, if it needs to be skimmed of excess fat, do so.   

Add your turkey meat and your andouille.  Stir in the gumbo filé and simmer gently for another 30 minutes.  Adjust the seasoning, if need be. 

Serve over or alongside steamed white rice, with some cold beers, and have a bottle or two of hot sauce on hand for anyone who wants to bump up the spice quotient a bit higher.

Note:  Of course,  you don't absolutely need a leftover turkey carcass to make this gumbo, nor do you need to make your own smoked andouille.  You could easily make something that's nearly as tasty with fresh turkey or chicken pieces, some store-bought smoked sausage, and some chicken or poultry stock.  But making full use of your leftover Thanksgiving turkey and its carcass is pretty satisfying, and few dishes make it shine like a turkey & sausage gumbo.

[recipe inspired by one that appeared in the November 2011 issue of Garden & Gun, and that came from Justin Devillier of New Orleans' La Petite Grocery]

And when I'd eaten turkey & sausage gumbo for two days (and loved every minute of it), I made leftovers with my leftovers:  Cajun-style hot turkey sandwiches.  Mmm-hmm.  Laissez bon temps rouler!

AEB Cajun-style Hot Turkey Sandwiches 

leftover Turkey & Sausage gumbo, with lots of sauce
1 or more slices of white bread (preferably a homemade sourdough) 

Heat up your leftover gumbo.  Place a slice of white bread on a plate.  When the gumbo has been heated through, pour it over the slice of bread, making sure the entire slice is covered in sauce.  Serve immediately, preferably with boiled and buttered peas and mashed potatoes.

Talk about a harvest!  This year's Canadian Thanksgiving just keeps giving and giving...  Can't wait for American Thanksgiving!

aj

* Of course, I'm pretty sure she does that pretty much every time we make stuffing of any kind.  We're both huge fans of the genre.

As Easy as 3-2-1, rev. ed.

2013 was definitely the summer of ribs around here.  We started with ribs (among other smoky delicacies, like brisket and sausages) back on a chilly afternoon in April when Szef Bartek and I kicked off our outdoor BBQ season,

 fig. a:  ribs & brisket

and the enthusiasm for baby backs and spare ribs never really abated.  And now, with this incredible fall weather we've been having, the festival of smoke & ribs continues.  It seems unlikely that it'll last much longer, but you never know.  In the hopes that it will...

I've been making slow-smoked, ultra-tender "dry"-style ribs for a number of years now, and I've always been open to trying out new techniques--including "wet" styles--from time to time, but my "dry"-style ribs remained my preferred model.  This year, however, I started working with a hybrid "competition"-style approach that appeared in Saveur's "BBQ Nation" issue a couple of years back (July 2011), and I really liked the results.

 fig. b:  BBQ nation

The method, which comes from a Richmond-based BBQ competition veteran named Tuffy Stone, starts "dry" (just dry rub, with a bit of misting), makes great use of a "crutch" (where you wrap or house your BBQ to accelerate the cooking process and add both moisture and flavour), and finishes "wet" (where sauce is used to baste the BBQ).  I'd become a little more open to a "wet" finish because I'd finally developed a tomato-based barbecue sauce of my own that I was really happy with (one with plenty of bourbon in it), and I found that it married well with this "competition" approach.

The technique in question is what's known as the 3-2-1 approach.  You can find all manner of commentary on this method throughout the most BBQ-obsessed regions of the Internet, but the essentials are pretty simple.  Basically, once you've applied a dry rub to your ribs, you smoke them for three hours, misting them every 30 minutes; then you remove them from your smoker, slather them with a magic elixir, wrap them in foil, and put them back on your smoker for two hours; and, finally, you unwrap your ribs, and return them to the smoker for one hour, basting them with your BBQ sauce after 30 minutes.  Hence, the 3-2-1.

In case you can't picture it, this is what they look like going into that final stage:

 fig. c:  entering the final stage

If you can't tell, the results are fantastic.  In fact, you might find dinner guests hoisting half-devoured ribs up into the air and proclaiming, "Now, THIS is what I call a rib!," after which they'll likely dip their rib into a little more sauce and finish the job--with gusto.  My only caveat:  make sure to make enough.  I recommend a few racks if you're serving them as an appetizer to a crowd, and roughly half a rack each if you're serving them as a meal.  Plus, you definitely want at least a few as leftovers.

 fig. d:  leftovers! 1

In fact, you might even want to think about having some for breakfast the next morning.

 fig. e:  leftovers! 2

Definitely not the worst idea...

I've made variations on this method numerous times over the last several months, and I've found it foolproof.  Well, maybe not exactly.  Like all good barbecue, it takes some advanced planning and preparation and plenty of TLC.

A few pointers:

1.  Maintaining a consistent heat, one suitable for slow-and-low smoking, is key to all great barbecue, of course.  I like to keep things hovering around 225º throughout the entire process.  You definitely don't need a fancy smoker to pull these ribs off.  You don't even need a smoker at all--a good ole Weber barbecue will do the trick.  It'll just require a little more attention to the heat on your part, and you'll have to be a little more clever when it comes to creating indirect heat.

2.  Use an aromatic, complementary wood to smoke with.  Stone recommends apple wood for his ribs; I'm partial to hickory.

 fig. f:  rubbed

3.  Stone's dry rub is excellent, but any kind that has a basis in sweet paprika, salt, black pepper, and brown sugar will work well here.  His recipe recommends rubbing the ribs shortly before beginning to smoke them.  I prefer rubbing them the night before to let the flavour sink in.

4.  Mist the ribs with apple juice (following Stone's lead) or some kind of sweet & spicy vinegar-based concoction.  Do so every 30 minutes for that first 3 hours.

 fig. g:  drizzled

5.  Stone's magic elixir that he drizzles his ribs with is a combination of butter, honey, and light brown sugar.  I swear by the butter, but you can play around with the sweeteners.  Maple syrup, for instance, is pretty ideal--and it also lends a little local/regional flavour to the mix.

6.  Use a premium BBQ sauce to finish the ribs with, preferably one of your own design.  Stone's, once again, is very good, but I'm partial to my bourbon-laced sauce.

Serve your ribs with your premium BBQ sauce and a vinegar-based BBQ sauce, if at all possible.  Have plenty of BBQ-friendly sides on hand, too.  I'm thinking cole slaw, baked beans, potato salad, and possibly even some corn bread.

Now dig in, and keep on smokin' in the free world!

aj

Plum Assignment

 fig. a:  fall plums

Michelle is back in the pages of Urban Expressions discussing one of her absolute favourite topics:  plums.  She's of Czech heritage, after all.  And there's a reason she named our line of preserves Švestka.

 fig. b:  Czech plum

Anyway, it's definitely the season for them, those beautiful Italian and Mont-Royal plums are the last of the year's stone fruits, and they're so versatile:  you can prepare them so many different ways across the sweet to savoury spectrum, from compote, jam, jelly, and butter, to cake, torte, tart, and pudding, to chutneys and pickles.

The featured recipe is for Michelle's beautiful plum and walnut torte.

 fig. c:  Czech plum torte

It's described as being for a "more adventurous baker," and, yes, it is a little involved, but it's absolutely worth the effort.  And if you decide the torte's too much trouble, you could always just make a batch of plum compote--the recipe is included.

Once again, you can find the article and the accompanying recipe here.

Now all you have to do is get out to one of our friendly neighbourhood farmers' markets to pick up a bunch of those plum dandies.

aj

Top Ten #51

1.  Cape Cod!

2.  Adam Leith Gollner, The Book of Immortality (Doubleday Canada)

3.  dinner for seven at Impasto, Mtl

4.  Steve Gunn, Time Off (Paradise of Bachelors)

sample track:  "Lurker"



(And if you're lucky enough to live in the NYC area, or to be just passing through, be sure to catch Steve Gunn, along with Endless Boogie and Tom Blacklung & the Smokestacks @ 285 Kent in Brooklyn on Monday, September 23rd.)



5.  Museum Hours (2012), dir. Cohen

(watch the trailer)

6.  late-night revelry at Le Vin Papillon, Mtl

7.  Faces, Long Player (Warner Bros.)

sample track:  "Maybe I'm Amazed"



8.  AEB chicken paprikash + sourdough caraway rye (Igen!)

9.  Girls (season 2)



10.  Farm-to-Table VT (including Misery Loves Company, Pistou, and Vergennes Laundry)

aj