January 25, 2011
I can honestly say, that there are not many foods out there that I won't try. Don't worry, I'm not going to go all Anthony Zimmern on your ass and start picking up random insects off the ground and create a simple, yet spicy marinade - yet if you put something in front of me that should be edible, I will most likely give it a shot. There are two food products, however, that I will not touch . . . ever. There is a story behind one, and the other I think is just gross.
Mushrooms - I have tried mushrooms about a thousand different ways, give or take about 980. I have eaten them on pizza, fried, marinated, sauteed, steamed, on salad - no. I have tried Shitake, button, sliced thin, sliced thick, made into Disney characters, from a cow field - no (except the last one made me feel pretty funky). No matter what I have tried, I cannot get into the mushroom. There are people out there that think I am nuts. They say that this spore-bearing fruiting body of a fungus is something to be savored. I say, it's a fungus that smells and tastes like its scientific moniker - Agaricus Bisporus - yummy. I know that mushrooms are full of great vitamins, minerals, etc, but I am willing to forgo those healthy nuggets in order to avoid sticking this poo-enhanced gritty plague of a food product in my mouth. This does pose a slight problem at home. My wife loves them, and me being the chef of the household, I refuse to allow them to touch my cutlery. If you have noticed, there has not been a single recipe that involves the shroom, and much to the chagrin of my wife, there won't be. I just can't take the smell.
Speaking of smells . . .
Liver and Onions - I do like onions, in fact, I am a huge fan. But there is not a top chef in the world that will convince me that liver is the perfect complement. My mom was a huge fan of chicken liver. We used to go to the Grand Union down the street and I would watch my mom peruse over the selection of internal chicken organs like she was picking the perfect melon. All I could see was round, gooey intestinal pieces of "food" that should have been buried with the rest of the chicken. Sometimes, the Chinese-like Tupperware would leak blood all over my Capri Sun's - nothing like a little fruit punch cocktail Nosferatu would dig.
The worst was when she cooked them, and she made these little blood bombs the same way every time. She would take the livers and place them in a Pyrex. Then, she would cover them with lemon pepper and onions and bake them for what seemed like days. I also think she used to put little dabs of butter in there, so they wouldn't "lose any moisture." I say that since they were immersed in the blood of a once clucking bird that any more moisture might make this vile dish a soup. Anyway, this smell would permeate the house, much like a steaming turd might if it sat on your dining room table. It got to the point where I would hole myself up in my room and huff Lysol, just to keep the liver smell from burning my nose hair. I said at the beginning of this post, that I would try just about anything. I was even given the parental handbook statement of "You can't knock it, if you don't try it," which is the equivalent of "I double dog dare you." I did, I can knock it. The liver tasted like lemony chalk, with a hint of undercooked crunchy onion. After brushing my teeth for about an hour, give or take, I went back to huffing my Lysol.
Of course, my wife likes liver too. She even tried to get me to taste pate for the first time. She told me that this way really fine pate, and that I should like it. As I spread the pasty whitish, brownish substance over a piece of bread, my mind flash backed to the smell that used to take over my olfactory factory (I used to hire alley cats to come piss in my house just to change the smell, it's not hard, the liver smell kind of just brought them in). I bit, I chewed, I smiled, I gagged. Unfortunately for me, there was nary a Lysol can on the buffet table. RIP, liver.
Now for some edible food. I took a page out of a Cooking Light magazine and went for one of their 20 minute cooking recipes. I immediately do not believe any mag, book, TV cook, that says things are SO easy, and take the time they allot. For one, these food gurus can cut, chop, mince, and slice without even looking at the cutting board. They "eyeball" everything, and always get the spices just right, or so we think. We never get to taste the final product, so for all we know, each dish could be a salty mess. I measure everything to the T, and make sure I have the correct amount of each ingredient. Sure, I play around with spices, may throw a little more or less, but overall, I am pretty anal about what goes into a dish. But I digress. This meal does not take too long, and is pretty good for you.
Ingredients:
1 pound of pork tenderloin - make sure you do not get one that is pre-marinated. I got a Hormel plain tenderloin that was exactly one pound. Although Publix did have some nice tenderloins on sale, most of them were 3-4 pounds which would have left me eating pork till next Xmas.
.5 tsp of kosher salt
.5 tsp ground pepper
1 TBS of extra virgin olive oil
1.5 tsp of fresh rosemary, chopped
2 TBS of capers - The recipe called for 4 anchovy fillets, mashed. I said no, and went with something salty, but not fishy.
3 garlic cloves, thinly sliced - see "Goodfellas" for slicing techniques.
1 red bell pepper cut into 1 inch strips
1 yellow bell pepper, ditto
2 tsp of balsamic vinegar.
Take the pork tenderloin and cut it into 1-inch thick rounds and sprinkle each side with a little bit of salt and pepper. Heat a good sized skillet over medium-high heat and then add the oil coating the pan all over. Place the pork in there and cook for 5 minutes, don't move it around, just let it cook. When the timer dings, reduce the heat to medium and flip the pork over. Add only 1 tsp or so of rosemary, capers, garlic and bell peppers and cook for 7 more minutes. Don't move it all around to mix, that will come later, just make sure the peppers are on the heat source and not on top of the pork. When the pork is done (take a piece out, cut it in half, taste it. Is it good? Done), drizzle the vinegar on top, now mix away. For appearances sake, throw the rest of the fresh rosemary on top. It is a really nice dish that makes for some great leftovers. A couple of flour tortillas heated up in the toaster oven, the leftover pork cut into smaller pieces with the pepper (you could saute some onions), beautiful.
On a side note, I spent this past weekend with some special friends. There is a little boy by the name of Jake that has to spend some time in the hospital this week. He is a vibrant, special child that I have the pleasure and privilege of knowing. I can't wait to see him catch a duckish pass from his crusty old uncle Ferg.
Peace
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