American cheese slice
Pastured egg, fried in bacon fat 😉
… served with sweet potato and parsnip fingers baked in duck fat
Chicken Fried Steak, a dish so American, you’d think it came from Germany.
With a milky gravy.
Here’s something to do with those steaks you have no idea what to do with. With the “Gite a la noix” cut, which translated by google is “Cottage has nuts” … now my new favorite nickname for the Gite / Noix cut … you can do one of two things:
1) warm, fry and rest. The flavor is there, but a bit chewy. Perhaps with a nice sauce.
2) Pound the crap out of it – a la Chicken Fried Steak.
At a glance:
– pound flour into beef with salt and pepper
– start some rice
– chop onion
– fry beef in hot duck fat
– while beef rests, gently cook onions
– add flour for gravy
– add milk, make magic gravy
– grab wine and serve
Behold the Cottage Nuts cut:
Pound in the flour.
I’ve pounded then floured many times. This is the first time I’ve pounded the flour in. I highly recommend this method. It serves you well when you fry.
My Ikea countertops can’t handle a pounding, so I use a step stool and a sturdy chopping board.
Pound the flour into the meat.
Salt and pepper after.
Prepare the onions for the milky gravy.
Take a moment to snap a photo of a cute three-year-old.
Fry those babies hot hot. Get the pan hot before the steak goes in. Otherwise, it will get all melty man.
After the steak has been fried, dump out most of the fat. Add a lump of butter and add the onions.
When the onions go all soft, add some flour to make a roux. Then add a cup and a bit of milk.
Stir and thicken.
Serve in strips or cubes or whole. Just don’t forget the gravy!
I try hard to get the buffet look with my stir fried rice. In this guy, we have in this order
ground beef browned and set aside
load of duck fat with butter nub in the pan
when the onions are looking sexy
then the pre-cooked rice, Uncle Ben’s style yo.
then the ground beef back in
after it’s all cooky cooky, push it to the side
scramble two eggs in the gap
add the eggs to the rest
yell, ” dinner is ready!!”
heat some more and serve
oh merde! don’t forget to add some frozen peas!
I made some beef sausage last night. I should have asked or read or followed somebody. I had beef. I had casings. I had the drive.
I wasn’t quite sure what to do with the casings. Brent passed by on his way to pick up Lucy, “Brent,” I say, “what do I do with this shit?” “You soak them,” he says, like he has made sausage. I actually don’t know. Maybe he has made sausage. Hopefully this won’t come up when we’re on The Newlywed Game ( T.V. game show ).
My first sausage:
It was a bit fatter than I was expecting. Things got a little heated and I had to stop. I was doing it wrong. Brent came back in from picking up Lucy from school. “Here’s my sausage!” I say, “I think I did it wrong.” “Stop. I know where you went wrong,” he says in an even tone. Evidently, I needed to roll the intestinal condom on the hoob-a-joob completely, then let the sausage unfold into slinky sausage magic.
I got the hang of it. A bit tough juggling the raw meat, toddler, casing, sausage spooge and glass of wine, but I managed. No toddler was used in the making of this sausage. She screamed and cheered and wondered what the heck I was doing.
We cooked it up for a taste.
It was a bit crumbly at the fat end. I might need to add an egg or something. The skinny end ( we have a nickname for this, but I’ll hold it in ) was not as crumbly.
A little Dijon and it tasted not bad. There is a lot of work ahead arriving at the perfect beef sausage, but this one was edible and almost enjoyable.
Two out of four Curtis children approved. Zélie loved it and wanted more. Though, maybe she would do anything to avoid going to bed. A sausage good enough to delay bedtime.
Otto detested it. He’s sick, so perhaps another go.
I made four kilos of beef curry. It took most of the day to cook, but a little part of the day to prepare. It warmed the kitchen while cozying you up inside with a fantastic aroma. I used a recipe given to me by a friend and fellow beef eater. It’s Peter Kuruvita’s Sri Lankan Beef Curry. I’ve made it so many times that I have a few variations to reduce labor, pots, pans and availability of ingredients.
First, some beef. I used the “beef bourguignon” cuts from our meat box. I cut the chunks a bit smaller as I have young kids with cute, little teeth. It’s easier for them this way.
Everyone gets acquainted in the fridge.
On this day, award winning food blogger Anneli Faiers from Delicieux was around picking up some beef and met Big Red. She gave him a stir and a sniff.
Some chutney, some Substance P perhaps some creme fraiche … lovely. I thought my four kilo beef blast would last and I could pull some out of the freezer when I felt like an easy “chuck it in the pot” day. It went. All of it. I managed to freeze a bit for later, but later came so soon. It’s beef day today, maybe I’ll pull out Big Red and do it all again.
Out there in the world they sell curry powder blends ( My favorite being “Tandoori Ass.” ). While there may be some good ones, my feeling is that these powders do not add much value to a dish. After one bite, I’m left with the feeling that I’ve lost my money on some overpriced turmeric. My first experience with building a spice blend for Indian dishes was when my husband made a chickpea dish from Madhur Jaffrey’s little golden cookbook. That dish was so panty-droppingly good, I called it “The Dish of Love.” From that moment on, we make curry powder from the basic spices ( most of which begin with the letter ‘c’ ).
I made 4 kilos of beef curry the other week. I use a recipe given to me by one of our beef loving customers. But before you even think of going there, you need to whip up a batch of Sri Lankan Curry Powder. It’s very simple. Add the spices in a cast iron skillet and brown. Then blend it. The only trick is to not burn it while browning. Cumin is the usual culprit, so you can add that in later as the rest of the goodies begin browning.
Sri Lankan curry powder recipes don’t vary much, I settled in on the one our friend gave me from Peter Kuruvita’s beef curry. It does the job. And it goes a little something like this:
Pour into a big bowl and grind in a “spice” grinder. I use a coffee grinder. I grind in batches.
Starts like this.
Ends like this.
I usually do a double grind to make sure I didn’t miss anybody.
Now you are set for beef curry a-go-go. This blog post took longer than making that lovely curry powder. I only wish I could insert a “scratch-n-sniff” button.
It’s veal day today. Our boxes are locked and loaded for customers. When we return from the butcher with a carcass freshly packaged that we’ve carefully raised on the farm, the fry pan goes on and we taste. We tasted the T-Bone first because … well … it’s a perk of tuning our product. And because T-bone tastes good. Veal tastes good.
All I captured of the T-Bone was this empty plate. We ate the meat. The dog got the bone.
Next up was the Tendron A Griller. Tendron is veal poitrine. Pointrine is belly or chest. Tendron is called “Tenderoni” in this household. Mostly, okay all-ly, by me. Call it my eighties upbringing. Call my enthusiastic dedication to the hot boy band New Edition. Whatever it is, the word “Tendron” is written and all I see is “Tenderoni.” She’s my only love.
It looks like a chunk of meat in the package, but when you take it out, you see it is more of a strip.
After a fry, I pepper it then cooks me some eggs. Great for breakfast or lunch. I had some local Saint Mont that rounded everything out. … I had it for lunch, though in the country, red wine in coffee for breakfast is not unheard of. I’ve not quite earned my stripes for that.
The usual suspects were right by my side helping me along with the taste test. Nothing motivates our fluffy sedentary animals like some fresh veal fried in a pan.
And if you find a tenderoni that is right for you, make it official, give her your love. Once you had a ‘roni you will never give it up.
Minty uses her Jedi mind tricks to do many things like buy Cadbury Dairy Milk, dried sausage and choose what we eat for dinner. Well, technically, fettucini or linguine or very flat noodles with meatballs. No matter, you make, you boil, you eat with sauce and stuff, ’nuff said.
I didn’t think to write up Spag with Meatballs until I was well on my way. Mostly because I’m sick. I feel like resting as this old dog would do.
or sun bathing like this young barn cat.
Noodles ready. I made them with spelt. In French it’s called “épeautre.”
mix and knead. roll in a pasta roller
Start the sauce. Defrost the beef. Make the noodles. Boil the water.
We recently sold out our veal boxes. Thankfully, we managed to grab a t-bone to assess our quality. Every time we sell meat, the fry pan goes on and we sample to make sure the work put in for tasty meat is going along smoothly. Tasting a veal t-bone is a perk of farming grass-fed beef.
If you’re at the pub and someone shows up with hot meatballs, a rush of happiness fills the air. I love to make meatballs. Pair that with the Irish pub in Jegun to watch a lovely evening unfold. It’s so easy and straightforward. These babies are technically “Swedish Meatballs.” Though, after chatting to the two Swedish people I know, I’m guessing there is room for some artistic Swedish creativity when it comes to making balls out of meat.
When the balls were ready, they looked like this. I then rushed over to the pub for a giggle and some night life.
No chopping required. Put some mince into a big bowl.