Animal Style

I recently lucked into some free beef, and I didn't even have to buy any tires. My old friend, mentor and high school geology teacher Dick Pugh (yeah, yeah, "what a name," but he's like 80 so shut the fuck up) was coming over to my house for dinner a few weeks ago, and "do you want some beef," he asked. Knowing that he raises Scottish Highland cattle, possibly the cutest of all meats, I vehemently accepted his offer. It's not every day you get free meat, especially not grass-fed (and finished) beef that was raised as a pet. All of his cattle get the sweetheart treatment and are only put down at the end of their natural lives.

He brought us some steak of various cuts and some ground round, and into the freezer it went. I pulled a pound of ground out of the freezer, but by the time it was thawed I hadn't come up with any clever ideas for dinner. I wanted to do the creature justice, but ground beef only has a few applications, and I was sick of eating Spag Bol. I had some pretty nice grainy hamburger buns, but nothing to put on a burger but cheese and iceberg. So even though we don't live in California, I decided we were having In-N-Out for dinner.

In-N-Out is famous for having secret ways to order your food. My favorite way of a burger there is Animal Style - that's with grilled onions, melted cheese and chunky thousand island-type dressing called "spread" (which is what happens to your ass when you eat too much of this shit). Lettuce is also a must, and iceberg is canon for fast food-style burgers. [Editor's Note: It was just brought to my attention that this is incorrect. Animal Style means the patty was cooked with mustard and comes with pickles and extra spread. I was thinking of the toppings on Animal Style Fries, but on the burger. Serious Eats made this same mistake and they won a fucking James Beard Award for best blog, so save your fist-shaking.]

Divide the pound of beef into two - yes two - patties. What are you gonna do with a half pound of ground beef in your fridge? Make a tiny amount of meat sauce? Just stop kidding yourself and use it all up now. I add only salt and pepper to the meat (the only integrity I can muster), and smush a handful of finely minced onions into the top of each patty.

Let the patties sit for a few minutes and come up to room temperature. Aw, jeez, stop worrying about germs, just keep your kitchen clean and you won't have to worry about meat sitting out for a few minutes. Get your grill pan rippin' hot and delight in the high-pitched squeal your patties emit when they sear on that hot pan. You'd better not fuck with those patties until it's time to flip them. Don't you dare smash them with the spatula or make any other fool move. Just...don't. Okay, after 6 or 7 minutes or so, flip the burgers.

Meanwhile, chop up some pickles (I use Krüegermann Mixed Pickle Salad because I have a giant jar of it) and mix this with a spoonful each mayo and ketchup. This is your "spread." Finely slice some iceberg lettuce into shreds. This is your "serving of vegetables."

After the burger cooked on the other side for 6 or 7 minutes, flip it again, turn off the heat, and top your patty with sliced cheese. Normally, I would vote for American for a burger like this, but we only had Havarti (besides, my hippie whole-grain buns ruined everything so I may as well run with it). Put your buns (cut-side down) on the still-hot pan to get toasty and to soak up some of that onion-y fond and grease. Apply a thick shmear of spread to each side of the toasty bun, then add the burger and a handful of iceberg shreds.

Serve with fries and an ice-cold cola (duh).

Japadog meets K-pop

A nice couple weeks, it's been. Lovely weather, lots of delicious cooking, but nothing really noteworthy that I can think of. I guess I could show you the nettle risotto I made, but I've already blogged that (though this time I made it with ham instead of lemony chicken or artichokes or somesuch). Besides, everyone blogs risotto-y things this time of year. Steaks with roasted tomato mac and chee is also all well and good, but not anything new.

The weather has been so nice that I've been in the garden nearly every free minute. Free minutes, though, are relatively rare these days, as Zeph fussily teethes and his naps have become somewhat longevity-challenged. Therefore, I'm a little ashamed to admit that we eat the odd hot dog and tots dinner (washed down by either root beer or beer beer). And since I still have that pile of Korean pickled things staring me down every time I open the fridge (but no pickle relish or sauerkraut, oddly), I figured, why not make some Korean relish? It'll be kinda like those Japadogs Scott and I had in Vancouver that one time. Besides, if people go nuts over those bulgogi tacos why can't I bastardize someone's culture with a hot dog?

I coarsely chopped doraji (that spicy balloonflower root) and oijangajji (those spicy cukes) and added a little furikake for some seaweed and sesame kick. Relish done. And for the coup de grâce, I made my new favorite condiment: gochujang mayo. I got the idea from Japadog's Misomayo, but since I was going Korean with this I used gochujang instead. I did also add a little shiro miso for sweetness, and smeared on thick, this is the best hot dog I've eaten in memory. The hot dog was a Nathan's 100% beef (like we care!), but I wouldn't kick a kurobuta frank outta bed either. Daikon sprouts woulda been lovely, too, but I didn't miss them too badly as I shoveled this into my maw while standing over the kitchen sink. Manidŭseyo!

Serve with a crispy wheat beer (I really like Rogue's Morimoto Soba Ale these days) and rice crackers.

Beef Pot Roast

Oh my toe-curling god, am I ever loving my pressure cooker right now. Pot roast, in an hour (well, 90 minutes counting prep). Are you fucking kidding me?

Believe it or not, I am still somewhat a n00b when it comes to preparing hunks of beast. I've only been cooking meat for about 6 or 7 years, and although I can really do some damage with slow-cooking in dry heat (I mean, who can't put a big chunk of meat in a 200 degree oven for 4 hours?), wet heat always fucks me up. It always hits a boil and turns to leather. Enter the pressure cooker: it's going to boil anyways, so why not let 15 pounds psi pulverize that connective tissue until it's butter?

The thing is, I only have a giant 23-qt pressure cooker that I bought for canning. It's a beast (the other kind), and I've used it for cooking only a couple of times - giant vats of beans in most cases - and it's a real bitch to get clean after that. This one's just not meant for everyday household use. So I came up with this neat trick that allows me to cook a 2 person-sized dinner in an army-sized pressure cooker. I make a sort of double-boiler by filling the large crock with a few inches of water, into which I insert a smaller pot that contains dinner. Works a dream.


So the rundown: I hit a 2lb chuck roast with a bunch of freshly-ground pepper and kosher salt, then browned it on all sides. Remove the roast, add two cups of mirepoix (1 part onion to half parts celery and carrot) and a bay leaf and thyme, saute until the veg is browned and the moisture from it deglazes the pot. I didn't have any beef stock so I added some homemade chicken stock (brown, from last week's roasted chicken) with a spoonful of beef bouillon paste, a glug of red wine, and a few squirts of Worcestershire sauce (I added enough to cover the roast). Put the whole shebang into the pressure cooker and let the flame rip. Once it hit my desired pressure (between 10 and 15 psi is my safety zone), I turned down the heat to around medium-low to keep it there. After an hour, I turned off the burner and got the side dishes ready while the pressure cooker wound itself down.

Simple sides are best for pot roast, and mine were boiled new potatoes and some mustard-glazed carrots and Brussels sprouts (glaze: spoonful of stout mustard, a few pinches of mustard seed, a scant spoonful of sugar and a knob of butter, add a splash of water to combine everything then let it reduce back down). When the pressure cooker simmered down enough to remove the lid without garnering third-degree steam burns, I pulled out the pot of roast and strained the jus into a hot pan to reduce. I whisked in a flour slurry and let it simmer into a rich gravy.

Serve with a nice Pinot Noir (hey, it's springtime - no need to go too big) and enough soft wheat rolls as needed to sop up all that gravy. Yes, all of it.

Rigatoni Bolognese with olives and chiles

It's been so hard to muster the energy or interest to cook, what with fatigue and nausea running the show. Pasta with red sauce seems to be accepted without a hitch, and requires nearly no effort, particularly when I have one last, treasured jar of homemade Bolognese from the homegrown heirloom tomatoes of last summer, canned with homeground beef chuck and fresh herbs. This last jar of sunshine was the end of an era.

This bastard lovechild between puttanesca ("the whore's") and Bolognese came from my need to taste red sauce with a little bit of saline fattiness of olives and the protein punch of beef. Chile flake (Korean, for flavor in addition to moderate heat) kicked it to a high hum.


Lots of grated parmesan and crusty bread to swab out the last smear of sauce is a no-brainer.

Mushroom-Cheddar Patty Melt

I know, I know. I take off for a week, and this is all I got to show for it (especially since the last post was a total cop-out, even though I spent hours constructing that chocolatey cave from 2lbs of chocolate truffles)? Don't worry, things will get exciting again real soon, I promise. I'll be in the field off and on every week for a few weeks, and I'm going to try earnestly to find little roadside gems for you during my travels. Until then, I make my own diner food.

Pardon my photos, I'm trying to learn to properly use this camera instead of just clicking it over to the macro setting and letting it auto-focus. Adjusting the f-stop is an embuggerance, but will be worth it once I get it right! It's a bumpy road to perfect mastery, but I'm trying to enjoy the ride.

Behold, the illustrious patty melt. A burger, for all intents and purposes, though open-faced. This one came on a thick slab of French batard (the King of Breads) with chopped green tomato pickle relish, mayo, hot mustard, a 1/3 lb patty of ground chuck and pork, grilled mushrooms and onions, and gooey, melted cheddar (hence, patty "melt").

If you're feeling conflicted about the fat and cholesterol (ha!), serve with lightly sautéed snap peas and a curry pickled okra spear. An ice-cold ginger beer wouldn't hurt, either.

Meatball sandwich with sautéed veggies and provolone

Did everyone have a nice Valentine's Day? That's good, me too. I haven't been around that much lately on account of not giving a shit about blogging, but I did make some nice meatball sammiches with sauteed peppers, onions and mushrooms last night.

I made the meatballs by mixing a pound of ground beef (I got the less-lean kind but should probably start paying better attention to that stuff); a quarter of an onion and two cloves of garlic (both minced); a few fat pinches of dried oregano and thyme, salt and pepper, a few squirts of Worcestershire sauce, a slightly-beaten egg and a handful of breadcrumbs (I make my own but you can use panko or the shit in a can if you want). Mix until just combined. Using the same technique as for the Swedish meatballs, just scoop, scoop, scoop with your little 1/8 cup-sized ice cream scoop until you have 15 perfect little meatballs on your Silpat. Bake for 15 minutes at 425, until golden.

Whilst the meatballs are roasting (and five minutes later, you added some parbaked pan au levain loaves to the oven), warm up some of the tomato sauce you canned last summer, but add more garlic and herbs, and some grated parm for good measure. Simmer until warmed through. In another pan, sauté some sliced onions, sweet peppers and mushrooms in a little olive oil.

Pull the meatballs from the oven and roll them around in the warm sauce to coat. Load the meatballs, sautéed veg and extra sauce onto the bread, then top with a couple slices of provolone. Slide the whole thing back under the broiler for a minute or two to get the cheese melty and browned.

Serve with a green salad and Nathan Petrelli's self-righteousness.

Lasagna Bolognese

Lasagna always seems like such a fuss, and I'll admit it, I usually just go for a frozen one. It always seems like too much work to make a real one, from scratch, and frozen ones aren't that bad (if you avoid the orange grease stain that is Stouffer's). So it's kind of ironic that I made this last night, because real work at my real job was eating my figurative baby and I needed to be able to put something in the oven for an hour and forget about it.

This is why I took the time to can my tomatoes last summer. It was precisely for this reason. I can totally shirk my duties without feeling like a lazy wife or a shitty blogger, because technically, this is homemade sauce. (Not that any of you should ever feel bad about using store-bought sauce. I'm just an over-achiever.)

This is why I grow and sauce my own tomatoes, grind my own beef and can my own Bolognese sauce. I'm banking my time and energy in canned food form, to withdraw at a future, overworked date. A good thing, too, is a box of no-cook lasagna noodles, already snuggling in my pasta drawer amongst my jars of summer sun. A bag of baby spinach and a cube of extra firm (silken) tofu got blitzed to stand in for ricotta (adding a spoonful of creme frâiche for dairy twang, and a little sea salt and fennel seed for flavor).

A nutmeggy bechamel layer, noodles, Bolognese (heated through with some leftover sausage and mushrooms), noodles, spinachy-tofu smoosh, noodles, then all remaining sauce, topped with shredded mozz and parm*. Bake for 45 minutes to an hour. Wait, it looks like I had to cook after all...

Serve with a juicy Spanish grenache and unmitigated languor.






*Note: this got a little on the extra-browned side of melty, but was still good. I just added extra cheese when it came out of the oven. Next time I'll cover to bake.

Bacon cheeseburgers on green onion brioche

Last night we went to see the Department of Eagles play at the Doug Fir. I love that band so much, and it was a really great show (though they pretty much stuck to In Ear Park and mocked my cries for Forty Dollar Rug). Before the show, I didn't really know what to make for dinner, but had a pound of ground beef (the last of the grass-fed beeve we bought last summer) and two days-old green onion sweet buns from the Vietnamese bakery. I kept forgetting to take them to work for breakfast, and boy howdy! Am I ever glad about it.


Those Vietnamese really know how to bake. They don't, however, seem to be too fond of printing the name of their food on labels or the internet, because I have no idea what they call these buns. They're slightly sweet and tender like brioche (or Hawaiian sweet bread), and come in a variety of flavors like sweet bean, ham and cheese, hot dog and corn (a personal favorite), or green onion. I usually go for the green onion, because I'm a slave to green onion on sweet pastry (which reminds me, I'm overdue for some dim sum).

I sliced the bánh-something (I'm pretty sure these are actually Chinese in origin, but who knows) in half cross-wise and assembled them: first, a little mayo and mustard; then the mammoth gluttony burgers (a whopping half pound each); a slice of thick, smoky bacon; sauteed mushrooms and onions; a slab of Madrigal cheese and barbecue sauce. If they weren't $2 each, I'da put some avocado on there too. I know the purists are giving me that look. Don't look at me like that, this is my way of a burger. Besides, if you're using fancy scallion buns you've already ruined everything. Fucking live a little.

Serve with blue box and not a shred of irony.

Swedish meatballs with buttered noodles and nutmeg gravy

Wow, what a week. Not even a (much-needed, and well-spent) paid holiday or a sexah new president could shake the funk of cold weather and crampy ladytimes. I made it to the gym again, to try to run off some of my shitty attitude, but it just made me more tired. When push finally came to shove, dinner had to come with gravy.

You love those Ikea Swedish meatballs so much, don't you. Of course you do, you're not made of stone. You don't, however, love driving through traffic to circle the 50-acre parking lot, or swimming through the crowds of mouth-breathers that hoved in from the suburbs to buy exquisite plywood shelving with sleek birch veneers. What in the fuck can you do, though? You love those meatballs.

So make them your damn self already. Mix together some ground chuck and ground pork (about 3:1, respectively, for about a pound total), an egg, a half-handful of plain bread crumbs, a quarter of an onion (minced), more nutmeg than you think you should (at least ten scratches across your microplane zester), four or five good cracks of pepper, and a few pinches of crunchy salt. Mix only until combined, and use a little ice cream scoop to perfectly portion out meatballs onto a silpat. Roast these at 400 for about 20 or 30 minutes, until they're browned and lovely.

Whilst the meatballs are roasting, get a roux going. When it's nutty, whisk in milk until the lumps are all gone, and it is creamy and gravylike. Add some cracks of pepper (white is nice, if you have it), salt and 10 or 15 scratches of nutmeg. After it's bubbled for a spell (and the floury taste is gone), add some minced fresh thyme and a generous spoonful of creme frâiche, and taste. Whilst the gravy is simmering, boil some egg noodles. When they're done, toss in a knob of butter to coat. Toss a squonch of chopped parsley at it artfully.


Serve with a mug of hefedunkel and bork bork bork.

Beef sirloin meatloaf with mashed potatoes and gravy

There's just no way to make meatloaf look pretty, is there? Too bad.

In an attempt to make room for all the pig that I just bought, I had to pull a couple things from the freezer, among them a 3-lb sirloin tip roast from the half beeve that I split with Greta and Matt last spring. Matt is always good for going in on meat en carcasse - it's good to have coworkers and friends who give a shit about where their food comes from.

Normally, I'd never do such a thing as grind a lean cut of meat like sirloin tip roast, but I also didn't want to wait another day to roast it on the weekend, nor did I want to slice steaks off it. And I have meat coming out of my ass right now anyway, so why not a meatloaf? It's cold out, and gravy is the cure.


I ground the roast (and some ends of bacon for fat) on the coarsest grind, added an egg, a slice of stale wheat bread and a small onion (these went in the grinder, too), the last blob of gochujang and some squirts of Worcestershire sauce, some fresh thyme and parsley, some paprika and lot of salt and pepper. Mix gently and just enough - overworking makes a tough meatloaf. Form into a babyloaf shape and bake on a sheet in a 375-degree oven for about 45-60 minutes.

I never use a loaf pan to make meatloaf anymore because that juice will sit in there and boil the meat, which is not tasty. Also, when you try to cut a slice, it falls apart like loosemeats. The baking sheet technique is just way better, trust me on this.

I mashed some boiled white and russet potatoes with cream and butter, then folded in some grated cheddar because I am evidently trying to get a big, fat ass. I honestly don't know why I added cheese, I was like on autopilot or someshit.

Serve with an ice cold Coke and The Office.

Shanghai-style nian gao with soy-braised short ribs and broccoli

I dunno. I totally made this up. A few weeks ago Scott and I ate at Castagna, in the more casual cafe (we save the restaurant for fancy occasions). Scott had the cassoulet (of course) and I had their pasta dish de la saison: maltagliati with braised short ribs and turnip greens. It came sauced in butter thickened with Parm Redge. It was fucking insane, and a perfect toe-curl, and I knew I had to recreate it with Asian flavors. It was such a logical translation - the bitter greens with the sultry beef and chewy, stubby noodles.

A few months ago, Claudia (the sylph behind cook eat FRET) tried some nian gao in Cleveland right about the time I first saw them at Fubonn. I knew then that I needed to try them, but wasn't really feeling the arbitrary purchase at the time. It took me this long to get around to actually picking some up to experiment.

I also picked up a couple pounds of rough-cut flanken-style beef ribs (labeled "back ribs" - I think these were the castoffs from cutting galbi), which were comprised primarily of sinew, tallow and bone. The meat that remained was sufficiently laced with connective tissue and marbling that a 4-hour braise melted it to goulash. I browned the ribs in a Dutch oven with a knob of young ginger and half a head of garlic, a couple bay leaves and some peppercorns, then covered it in soy sauce (laochou that I thinned with some water), Chinese black vinegar, mirin and a spoonful of veal demiglace. When it came to a simmer, I plunked it into a 250-degree oven and went about my day.

I actually shopped for this dish a week ago, and it took me this long to muster the motivation (and time) necessary to properly execute a braise. During this time span, I used up almost all of the Shanghai pak choi (qingcai ). I buy these greens by the bagful, and usually never use up the whole thing until they're almost compost. My garden greens got pwned by snow, and I didn't want to make another trip to the store just for greens, so I gave a "meh" and used broccoli.

The nian gao cooked up in about a minute, then I tossed them with the beef, broccoli, and a ladleful of the braising liquid to coat. At the last minute, I decided it needed a shred of omelet on top. I cooked the egg with a little sugar and chile flake, and it lightened up the dish nicely.

My mental picture of nian gao as the Asian answer to bite-sized maltagliati (translates to "badly cut") proved eerily accurate, and this odd dish worked, rendering this disjointed, disorganized conversation about it a propos. I'll try this again, with an easier cut of meat (maybe pork - we bought a quarter pig yesterday) and the shred of greens for which the nian gao's density yearns.

Beef Stew

You know when you're feeling kinda tapped out, and multitasking isn't doing you any favors, and you just wanna curl up in a bowl and call it a night? Yeah, it's that time of year, isn't it. Scott made this stew the other night (he actually cooked!) for when I got home from the field, and after the gym I thought it'd be nice to just reheat a bowl of something instead of cooking. There wasn't quite enough for two full servings, so we decided to eat it on some nice, buttered egg noodles.

I was totally gonna make some croutons to go on top, but the batard was way too stale even for that, and I had to process them into crumbs and fry them to render them edible. The night Scott made the stew, I made thick croutons broiled with shredded fontina, but it was much soupier then and really needed it. The sad thing about stew is that although it tastes so much better a day or two later, the peas go all peaked and look like really sad shadows of their verdant selves.

Pickle-making isn't really a one-day feat, is it? I've been doing small batches every day, but the eggplant chutney set things off on sort of a bad foot. It's too thick to really get all of the air out, and so of course one of the jars blew out its bottom in the pressure cooker. I didn't realize it until I went to vent off some of the pressure when I smelled the chutney that should've been sealed up in the jar. Finally, everything cooled down enough to handle, and I was able to see the carnage of oily eggplant shreds floating around inside the pressure cooker. Ick. I had to wash all the remaining jars in soapy water to get the oil off, and scrubbed the pressure cooker before getting the next batch in last night. Tonight will be the red onion pickle.

Steak and chanterelle pasties with brown gravy and glazed carrots

I swear, I've almost worked through all of my chanterelles. I'm actually getting tired of eating them, being too much of a good thing. I've been craving pot pies and brown gravy and all that, and thought I'd give making pasties a go. It's pretty much just an empanada, so I used the dough recipe from last year's buffalo and chanterelle empanadas with mole.

I diced up some chuck steak, coated it in a little flour and browned it with some onion. This made a sticky (but savory-smelling) mess in the pan, so I removed the brown steak and added the chanterelles. Chanterelles, like all mushrooms, are almost all water and release copious liquid when cooking. This liquid deglazed the pan nicely and stirred up into thick gravy with the toasty brown fond-roux. I added some finely chopped thyme and rosemary, a squirt of Worcestershire and some salt and pepper, and stirred in one diced, boiled Yukon gold potato.

I spooned the filling into rounds of dough, sealed the edges with a little eggwash and then pinched the edges up into cute little pocket pies. I sloppily brushed the remaining eggwash on top of the pasties to brown and sent them to a 400 degree oven for about 30 minutes.

Meanwhile, I peeled and sliced some Sweet Nantes carrots and browned them in a little butter and sugar, then added a splash of chicken stock and simmered over a low flame until the carrots were tender and shiny. I added a pinch of kosher salt and fresh-crushed celery seed. The gravy was just beef stock (fortified with a bit of veal demi) shook up in a jar with some flour and simmered until the flour cooked and thickened.

The crust was nice and flaky, unlike the leaden pasties served up at the Horse Brass (who have the best fish and chips in Portland, but terrible pasties), and the silky gravy not at all like library paste. The filling was tender, moist umame. I'll definitely make this again.

Bibimbop

Meeehhhhhhh. Weh!

An ass-busting week in the field, an all-night Halloween bender followed by an all-day wicked hangover, then I started my woman times yesterday. I have not given less of a shit about blogging since I chopped off the tip my pinky last spring. I haven't blogged in more than a week, and no one has even noticed! Cue tiniest violin in the world playing my fucking song.


Needless to say, I need a little hug. Sure, the husband is good for a pitying hug when I give him that look (he has a special way that makes you feel comforted, but not patronized, even when you know you're being an unfuckable hag), but nothing can hug my insides like a bowl of bibimbop.

Bibimbop is the ultimate Korean comfort food - I surmise it's what Korean moms make their rainy-day kids instead of grilled chee and Campbell's tomato soup by the fire. A hot bowl of steamed rice top with bits and ends: leftover steak, thinly-sliced and dressed with black vinegar and sesame oil (throw some leftover eggplant in there too to soak up some beefy juice); some sautéed shiitakes (from my shiitake logs) marinated in mirin, sugar, thick soy sauce and black pepper; thinly-sliced cucumber quickled in rice vinegar, sugar, salt and black sesame seeds; some wilted bean sprouts hit with a splash of mirin and sake; yam boiled in soy sauce and sugar; and red bell pepper and onion browned with sesame oil, chile and garlic. I have some leftover gai lan with oyster sauce, throw that on there too. Oh, and you can't forget a spanky wad of kimchi. Top with an egg fried over easy (stir the raw yolk into the hot rice) and a blob of gochujang. Commence toe-curl.


Now if you'll excuse me, I have some Gossip Girl and Heroes to watch.

Buffalo burgers with smoked gouda

Yeesh, it took me a week to post this dinner I made last weekend! I woulda done it earlier, I swear, but these photos are pretty bad. I was too busy enjoying a perfect day to bother with things like Sensitivity and Exposure. Bah, who needs good photos anyways? My words paint the picture for you.

Last weekend, we had a blast on Sauvie Island. It was an idyllic Perfect Saturday. After getting scratched up and sticky picking fat blackberries (and stuffing ourselves with them, still sun-warm), we headed down to the boat launch to cool our toes in the Mighty Columbia. Sadly, we had a cooler of beer, but no bottle opener! But necessity being the mother of invention, I was able to hoist the caps off using the rim on the bottom of a can of mosquito repellent. Because I'm a good German girl.


After we'd had some nice ones, we mosied over to Kruger Farm Market for some perfect apples, peaches, mini avocados, good dill Havarti, and some baby okra (which is pickling with some green tomatoes in a nice curry brine as we speak). We hurried home with our booty, but stopped on the way to pick up a cheap ($15) tabletop gas grill and some ground buffalo.

I mixed the mince with salt and pepper, a few squirts of Worcestershire, and some garlic powder (which is about twice as many ingredients as I usually add to ground meat). I mixed it and formed four small patties - since we only had soft wheat dinner rolls, I decided to make sliders instead of buying buns. I made a small foil pouch for some hickory chips, and another to hold some tender green beans, minced red chiles and baby pattypans from the garden (butter and chopped herbs, a squirt of lemon and seal the pouch).

After tossing the (perforated) bag of wood chips onto the burner and letting it get good and smoky, we tossed on the veg and burgers and got some corn going on the stove. That chipotle butter that you keep seeing in Gourmet is good shit - just a little adobo from a can of chipotles and melted butter does the trick. Also, I have now converted from a "Coal Only, the Fuck You Using Gas to Grill" girl to "Bitch, If You Make Some Smoke You Can't Tell the Difference So Get Off Your High Horse, Already" type of person.

I was shaking with anticipation and, coupled with terrible lighting in our TV room, mustered only this poorly-focused and dimly-lit photo of the most delicious burger.

Pulled the burgers at medium-rare, and top with slices of smoked gouda. Toast the rolls on the top of the grill lid. I topped my burger with a light shmear of spicy brown mustard, a little Jufran banana ketchup and some mayo, slices of avocado, minced onion, sliced tomato and baby arugula. Scott skipped the avocado and onion. A perfect accompaniment to a bourbon and Coke and a movie. Although Gone Baby Gone was only aight, in my opinion. I think he shoulda let Morgan Freeman keep the kid.

Steak Berbere with celery remoulade and panmolle

...or Perfect Summer Dinner v2.0

Today is (hey shorty, it's; we're gonna party like it's;) my birthday! The hubz, some homies and I decided to let me cook last night instead of going out - I know that sounds like Opposite Day, but I was really feelin' it, so we rolled with it.

Look at these brontosaurus steaks! I initially had been planning on making some African chicken stew and collards (I'm really into the Naija thing right now), but cooking stew didn't sound good when it's so hot in the house. So I made some Ethiopian berbere spice, which is basically two ingredients away from my secret rub (the two other ingredients are fenugreek and dried onion). I'll do my African post next week, I have something up my sleeve.

Bottom round is a slightly chewy cut, but where it lacks in tenderness it more than compensates in flavor. And isn't that what it's really all about? I smeared the berbere into those thick-ass steaks with a bit of salt and let them sit for awhile while I prepped the sides.

I really can't get enough tomatoes this time of year, but talk to me in a month, when all ten of my tomato plants are fruiting and I'm scrambling to get them into everything we eat (I tried to stagger my plantings with varieties that fruit at different times, but a cold spring really fucked that all up). I picked up a tub of perlini mozzarella and made a simple vinaigrette of good red wine vinegar, olive oil, minced thyme, basil and oregano, some lemon zest and S&P. Toss the perlini with cubed heirloom tomatoes and let it sit and marinate in the dressing for an hour or so. Serve over thinly-sliced, grilled levain for a sort of deconstructed panmolle.

I had some celery root that needed eating, and decided to keep it classic instead of coming up with some precious reinvention of the wheel (as is my wont). But tragedy! Just as I had my heart set on celery root remoulade, I realized that the celery root in my fridge was spongy and slightly lignified (i.e., not tasty). I tried to score some more at the store, but they only had two tiny ones. I supplemented the celery root with some shaved tender, white inner celery ribs and leaves. The ribs were an ideal, refreshing accoutrement to the dense, earthy root, and added a bit of crisp, mineral salinity to cut through the rich remoulade.

Remoulade, by the by, is just an emulsion of egg yolk, white wine vinegar and/or lemon juice and olive oil, whisked with a bit of Dijon and grainy mustard. It sounds fussy to make homemade mayo until you realize that it's perfectly acceptable to use your immersion blender to do the heavy lifting (fuck sake, you're making homemade mayo - you really got something to prove, whisking that shit by hand?). Add some chopped cornichon, shallot and capers, and some minced tarragon and parsley. I added some minced fennel flowers for a nice touch of anetholic sweetness - they taste like fresh Good & Plenty candies in flower form (the nectar was in full production), and compliment the tarragon perfectly.

Corn on the cob went on the grill and took a slather of compound butter. The only thing better than fresh, grilled corn on the cob is receiving a neck rub, or possibly a foot massage. Just shuck (but don't jive) it right over the compost heap, and wash it with the garden hose. Brush with a little olive oil (help flare up the coals a bit), and cook until golden brown and chewy.

The perfect summer meal, good enough to cook on one's birthday.

We enjoyed this with a precocious Walla Walla cab, a gift from Norm for Scott's birthday. I intended to make a simple dessert of grilled peaches and mango nectarines with a sliver of brie, but it was getting dark and I was getting buzzed - but this is on the List! I also grilled the back of my pinky fucking with the corn, and decided that I'd had about enough of standing in front of a hot grill anyways.

Yay, birthday!