Marjoram braised pork chops

Pork chops braised in chicken stock with marjoram and mirin; salad of mixed greens, tomatoes, green onions, raisins, and peanuts with my usual salad dressing

I've been using my garden herbs all summer and was in the mood for a flavor other than thyme, rosemary, basil, chive, savory, or lavender. To me, marjoram tastes a lot like thyme and a little like oregano and a little like its own thing.

The pork chops at the coop looked enticing this afternoon. I seasoned the chops with just some salt and pepper. Since they came with nice, thick, fatty edges I used only a little bit of beef fat to brown each chop (I did three). After browning each chop I set them aside. Then, I put them all back into the pan and poured in about a cup of chicken stock and layered over a bunch of fresh marjoram. I brought this to a simmer, added about 1/4 cup mirin (rice wine, but you could use any vinegar or white wine), lowered the temperature to about medium low, and covered partially.

I wish I could tell you how long I cooked the pork. But such is the nature of this blog. I was preoccupied with the mess Jasper was making, putting together a salad, doing some last-minute cleaning up. But you should cook pork to an internal temperature of at least 160 degrees. My sister gave me an electronic meat thermometer for my birthday a few years back, and it has become one of my all-time favorite kitchen tools. I can keep the thermometer in while the meat cooks, and even set it to ring when the meat reaches the desired temperature. I just have to be careful that the probe is in the center of the meat, and not all the way through and touching the pan.

After the pork was done I removed it from the pan and set it aside to rest (always let your meat rest a few minutes after cooking. It helps the juices to settle in the meat rather than all running out when you cut into it). Then I turned the heat up high again, scraping up the browned bits on the bottom of the pan, and stirring occasionally. The sauce reduced after about ten minutes or so into a thick glaze to pour over the chops.

Yesterday at the playground I met a woman who teaches cooking classes. We got to talking about boneless, skinless chicken breast. "You might as well eat tofu! It's completely flavorless!" I agreed. Admittedly with the chauvinism of a naturally thin person, I can't imagine why you'd want to sacrifice so much flavor just to avoid a few extra fat calories. It seems worth it to me. And the avoidance of bone for the sake of convenience -- also unthinkable. Even if you poach the chicken breast carefully with herbs -- eh. Perhaps you disagree, in which case I'd be interested to hear your argument.

Anyway, I had this conversation in mind today at the meat section of the coop when I overheard a woman talking with a coop worker. She wanted boneless, skinless turkey breast. "Oh no, you don't want to do that," I muttered to myself. Or so I thought. "Yes she does," said the coop worker. Ghastly, I'd turned into one of those annoying people who give unsolicited advice and judgment under their breath but loud enough to hear. Dear reader, I hung my head in shame and scuttled away with my fat, bone-in pork chops. But that doesn't mean I wasn't right.

Lamb stew with squash and sweet potatoes

Stew of lamb shank, spaghetti squash, and sweet potatoes

Though hot all day, Sunday was a little chilly by evening, so I decided to make the first stew of autumn. First I seared a lamb shank, then set it aside, and carmelized some minced shallots in the lamb drippings and some olive oil. Then I added the lamb shank back in, along with about a cup and a half each of sweet potatoes and spaghetti squash, fresh rosemary and thyme, salt and pepper, a quarter cup of Dogfish Ale punkin lager and three cups of water. I brought this to a simmer, then partially covered and lowered the temperature. I let the stew cook like this for about a half hour.

Meanwhile I gave Jasper a bath, which is why I didn't notice that during the half hour most of the liquid evaporated and the vegetables were starting to disintegrate. This stew would probably be better if the vegetables were still soft, but not yet falling apart. So I'd add four cups of water instead of three, and cook for maybe 20 minutes. There also wasn't a great deal of meat (though when I removed the shank to chop the meat it all fell off the bone easily). So the stew would be more balanced with two shanks.

Nonetheless, I loved the rich savoriness of the lamb against the sweetness of the potatoes and squash. It's also a beautiful stew, with fall leaf colors of gold, orange, and brown. Have you ever noticed the texture of lamb fat, they way it turns to silk when heated? Maybe it's not exactly the fat but some other tissue, I'm not sure. But that's one of my favorite aspects of lamb meat.

You can never go back to the Renaissance Festival; or Never serve your guests grilled turkey legs

I guess that pretty much sums it up. I have romantic memories of grilled turkey drumsticks from the Renaissance Fair in Colorado. Turns out they're about as elegant as those dried flower hair garlands I also loved at the Fair.

The new art season is upon us and other than tonight's dinner (also made that ratatouille again) I'm not cooking much for the next week or so.

Donate

For every dollar donated to the Houston Food Bank they can buy $25 worth of food.

And a suggestion from Monroe:
The American Friends Service Committees (AFSC) charities--one will be helping in New Orleans--tend to have the lowest overheads--the nearest to direct aid--of any US charities.

1501 Cherry Street, Philadephia, PA 19102. For more information call Carl at (215) 241-7060 or David at (215) 241-7296.

More lists of relief organizations you could support:

Instapundit.com
Interaction.org

"African" Pineapple Peanut Stew

Stew made of pineapple, peanut butter, and Swiss chard, over basmati rice

I have Moosewood Cooks at Homeon my shelf, and I've used it over the past five years or so for exactly two recipes. The Moosewood Cafe is a cooperative restaurant in Ithaca, New York, famed for its homey, hippie, vegetarian fare (they do use fish). The recipes in the cookbook are all "inspired by," though never authentic to, the cuisines of developing nations. Many just don't sound appetizing enough to try, but I do like this stew, as well as their red, green, and yellow chili (which a friend calls Rasta chili). I was in the mood for this stew.

It's a particularly embarrassing recipe, using peanut butter. But it's delicious. The cooking times all seem off, usually too long. And the recipe calls for canned pineapple like it's 1976; I use fresh.

Brown about one cup of onions and a couple of minced garlic cloves in some vegetable oil. Then add the pineapple cut into chunks. The recipe has you add the juice from the can, so I usually add about half a cup of water, which yields a very thick stew. You could go through the trouble of buying some pineapple juice, but it's just going to add unnecessary sugar and a tiny bit of tartness. I simmer the pineapple chunks until very soft and then add one bunch of Swiss chard, chopped crosswise. I cover for about three minutes until the chard wilts, and then stir in about half a cup of peanut butter (we use Smucker's Natural, creamy), half a cup of cilantro, and salt to taste. Let this simmer a bit longer for the flavors to meld and then serve over rice, topping with chopped peanuts and scallions.

I can hear Julia Child saying, "that's not cooking, that's chopping!" Har har.

And there you have it. Just try finding another food blog that will admit to making dorky home cooking like this. That's what the blog is all about. Not my brightest moments as a home chef, not good editing, not all the splendid treats someone brings back for me from France. Just the quotidien. What I made for dinner and what I did with Jasper.

And speaking of the Mom segment of today's posting...I had a harrowing evening. Those of you who are squeamish will want to stop reading now. Jasper got filthy this afternoon playing in dirt (fine, pore-seeking dirt) at the park. So I threw him into the tub the minute we got home. It got off to a bad start. I had just leaned over to turn on the water and he tried to get in by himself. He fell head-first.

But we kept going, and I added extra bubbles. We were having a fine time, giggling, playing with the bird whistle, splashing, when I spotted something brown floating in the water. Yes, it was poo. Jasper had defecated in the tub. In fact, despite having already defecated earlier in the day he pooed a great deal. Who knows how long my hands had been in that contaminated water, how soon after I'd blown the bird whistle.

So I took him out, drained the tub, fishing out the poo with my bare hands (not having a pooper scooper handy), set the toys over to the side to disinfect later, rinsed the tub out to scrub later (thanks, Lane!), and then washed Jasper down with soap and running water. Then I decided since I was already enjoying myself I might as well wash his hair, too, which I only do once a week because he hates it and it's a huge battle. I don't get paid for this, folks. It's all volunteer work.

Anyway, that was the nadir of my day. Otherwise we enjoyed more glorious weather and Lane had a great day at the studio. Tomorrow he plays soccer with a bunch of artists (???) followed by a reception at the sponsoring gallery, so I may not be cooking.