Turkey Tips Appleton

Appleton is two of my favorite places, though I have only been to one of them. Appleton, Wisconsin is home to many of Pam's cousins, and we enjoy visiting there -- almost always in summer -- every three years or so. When this plague ends, I hope to squeeze in a visit with all the Lauermans and Lauerwomen there. The other Appleton is an estate in Jamaica that produces one of my favorite rums: Appleton Reserve, a blend that is aged six-ish years.

Because Pam and I (mostly Pam) have been careful to map out our food purchases and meals, I knew that turkey tips were on the menu for yesterday evening, and I had only vague plans to prepare them with some kind of sauce. Previous successes were a barley soup Pam made earlier in this lockdown and a bourbon turkey bourbon I made last year.

This time, I knew that I had relatively few resources for a sauce, and somehow the term "deglaze" hit me in the middle of the afternoon. Whatever I did with this turkey, deglazing our indispensable cast-iron skillet would be involved. As would some sliced mushrooms we had on hand.

So I dethawed (as we say in our kitchen) the Dole & Bailey Bourbon Street Turkey Tips from Crescent Ridge, and cut them into what I would call tip-sized chunks, about 1-1/2 inches each. These are marinated and incredibly tender; as a substitute it might be helpful brine some high-quality turkey breast or tenderloins (if that is even a thing).

I started cooking organic, whole-grain Carolina brown rice because we have plenty of time on our hands, and let the marinated turkey drain while waiting about 15 minutes before starting the rest. I then heated a bit of olive oil in said cast-iron until it was quite hot. I added the tips and seared them on one side before turning and allowing to cook through but not overcook -- probably around five minutes total.

I then removed the turkey to a warm bowl and deglazed the hot pan with a generous splash of aged rum (in this case, Appleton) and added about 8 ounces of sliced mushrooms.  I reduced the heat and added a dollop of butter, a glug of Worcestershire, and a dash or three of Tabasco. I simmered until the mushrooms were softened and the sauce reduced.

We then plated the tips and spooned over the mushroom and sauce. The result was savory and tender; it was nice to have the more substantial rice; we usually use a very light basmati.

Regular readers will not be surprised to learn that this paired well with a Malbec, in this case Broquel (shield) Malbec from our favorite Trapiche vineyard in Mendoza. And in this case the pairing claim is not just me -- the tasting notes from Trapiche specifically mention mushroom sauce! We are fortunate that our wine tastes have become so narrow -- social-distancing now involves curbside delivery of Malbec by the case from a wonderful local shop, which was nice enough to find us this wine.

Pam noticed this bonus right away -- a map to the vineyard!
(See our Malbeclipse story for more detailed direction.)

Mint Mocha Milkshake

James bought these funky flavored coffee beans a few weeks ago for fun. As coffee snobs it is anathema to us to do much with coffee flavors, but he knows I like mint chocolate ice cream, and I also like the visual appeal of the color combination of mint green and chocolate brown so he made an exception. We drank the coffee for our morning beverage the weekend before last, but didn't finish all the beans so I got the idea to use them in a milkshake (aka a "coffee cabinet") since we had some coffee milk (for those who don't live in Massachusetts or Rhode Island this is a specialty in these parts) and some vanilla ice cream. I ground the beans then added them to a blender with the ice cream and milk. I had hoped the grinding along with the blending would reduce them to something that wouldn't be noticeable in the final product, but in fact they left a rather grainy texture to the shake. It was good in any case and a fun way to use the beans.

Salmon a la Pamela almondine

We recently discovered that our favorite fishmonger (Kyler's Catch) was indeed open. We should have known since the place has always been impeccably clean. They have done everything right in order to keep the retail side of their business going: masks for employees, sneeze guards, and chairs spaced six feet apart for waiting. It is also still impeccably clean. James donned his own mask and went over on Friday evening and brought back salmon and scallops. I was in charge of preparing the salmon on Friday, and he made dinner with the scallops on Saturday.

I poached the salmon in some leftover Malbec we had in the beach house refrigerator from the previous weekend. I also added some orange slices to pan. Meanwhile, I toasted some sliced almonds in some butter and honey. Once the salmon was cooked I divided it onto our plates and topped them with the almonds. Mashed potatoes made for a dandy side dish and a garnish of orange wedges completed the meal.

I had no recipe for this. I put it together with ingredients we already had. We both enjoyed the meal and will likely make it again, that is if we ever have leftover wine again. Once a bottle gets uncorked at our house it is unlikely to get re-corked. The only reason we had some in this case was because last Sunday we opened a second bottle. Fortunately, we also had a full bottle of the same wine to drink with the meal.

James wore this special nautical-themed face mask for his trip to the fish monger

Chili

Chili is hardly a "nueva" recipe in our house -- I have made chili in essentially the same way since I first started cooking, though I have gotten increasingly adventurous in the seasonings. I notice, for example, that in my 2014 post entitled "Heritage Chili" I spend several paragraphs telling the story of one ingredient -- and hinting that "some day" I should reveal the overall approach. So here it is, albeit in the process of describing a significant departure.

The first consideration is time. As I wrote in our Celebrating Silver post, chili should be started 24 hours ahead of time. I exaggerated -- usually I will start chili around 9 pm for use at 5 or 6 the next evening. In a pinch, I'll make it right after breakfast of the day we're to eat it, and such was the pinch for yesterday's chili.

Herewith, my "recipe" for chili. It starts with the beans; if I do not plan ahead, I use a couple of cans of kidney beans. This week, I did plan ahead. The night before making the chili, I rinsed one pound of dry kidney beans in a colander. I think put them in boiling water in a large stock pot, boiling, covered, for a full two minutes. I then turned off the burner and left them on the stove overnight to soak and expand. In the morning, I rinsed them again in a colander and set them aside. I also set aside the stock pot -- I do not use it for chili.

The next step is almost always to brown -- in our heavy, indispensable cast-iron skillet -- about a pound of ground turkey, ground beef or sausage. In recent years this has often been sweet and/or hot Italian sausage, casings removed. In this case, however, the chili was Pam's recommendation for doing something a bit different with the steak leftover from what I had grilled on Sunday. In this case, I had given it a good rub of coffee and chili powder before grilling it to medium rare, using some very delicious bottled sauce. I grilled that to medium rare, and we had a delicious linner on Sunday, but with far more steak than we needed.

Hence, a departure from the usual ground meats -- I cut the steak into small cubes, heated up a bit of olive oil in the skillet, and browned it while chopping the veg -- onion, red and green bell peppers, a jalapeño (should have used two), and a few cloves of garlic. These I sauteed until just slightly softened, adding a bunch of seasonings -- black pepper, cayenne, cumin, basil, oregano, and a bit of cinnamon. This last was just a pinch (and actually, there had been some in the original steak rub); for measuring the other spices, the question is only whether to pour it on with an overhand or underhand shake.

My chili is another one of those dishes that is more photogenic at some stage
 in the middle of the process than it is as a final product.

I spooned all of this into our 1987 wedding-gift crockpot and then added the beans, a few cans of crushed,whole, and diced tomatoes, and a couple of bay leaves. I stirred thoroughly, cutting the larger tomatoes with the side of the spoon, and simmered -- covered -- on high. I restirred every hour or so and declared this chili ready after only 6-7 hours.

Near the end, Pam made simply splendid biscuits on our baking stone and we enjoyed this with some  -- as one might guess -- Malbec from Mendoza. We agreed that the chili was tasty, though with a notably different texture. It was a very good use of the steak, but I'm still partial to the sausage version.

Lagniappe

Leftovers from our leftovers: After having chili for a couple of days, Pam suggested an easy lunch: nachos. I preheated the oven to 350F and spooned chili over a layer of chips. After it heated for about 10 minutes, I added a freshly-shredded mix of cheddar and pepper-jack. At the table, we added salsa and sour cream.

It was a good excuse to use one of our cool talavera plates. We store them on the kitchen walls for easy access and decorative value between uses.

Chicken Parm

This is what Whaling House smelled like on Friday night -- in a good way. When we started isolating for the Coronavirus before it was mandatory, the first step was to change our grocery-shopping routine, which in normal times involves James finding his way to the local Roche Brothers a few times each week. But knowing that we would be reducing this as much as possible, the strategy has changed -- go in quickly with a list on which we know everything must be considered aspirational. And if I see something not on the list that I can imagine getting a couple of good meals out of, grab it!

(Note: and anything I touch, I buy. It is Typhoid Mary-level reckless to "shop" by picking up and putting down items we are considering.)

During my first such outing, when I got to the poultry shelves I noticed a much-reduced selection and entire chillers that were empty. Boneless chicken thighs were abundant, so I bought two packages (staying on the polite side of the line between "stocking up" and "hoarding"), with no particular objectives in mind. I used the first for two dinners right away, and froze the second.

I enjoy chicken parmesan at restaurants not at all infrequently, but it had never occurred to me to make it myself until I saw a post on one of the local home-cooking groups I follow online. I realized that one of my neighbors was making this at home and decided it was time for me to try. But where to begin? I had no idea how to answer the most basic question: "Is it fried or baked?" Turns out the answer is: "Yes." But I'm getting a bit ahead of myself.

As I got ready to plan the meal, Pam fired up her iPad and pointed it to New York Times Cooking, from which she read me Freestyle Roasted Chicken Parm, a non-recipe recipe by Sam Sifton. It sounded delicious and I could have made it work, but I noticed to thing that caused me to ask Pam to keep looking: Sifton's concept had no breading, and I was in the mood for breading. And it sounded like it would really be good with some fresh basil and greens -- we were not going to break quarantine for that. Watch this space, though -- we will definitely return to this.

Next Pam read aloud from the simply-titled Chicken Parmesan by Melissa Clark. Again, this is a recipe for a different day -- it calls for chicken breasts, panko crumbs, and fresh mozzarella, none of which we had on hand. But the recipe answered a few basic questions that allowed me to get started on my own version: it calls for frying the chicken first, using egg, and spreading sauce on the bottom of the baking pan AND over the top of the chicken.

Chicken Parm in progress -- in the galley at
Whaling House

So this is what I did, in less time that it has taken me to write the tale: I heated oven to 400F, and heated some sauce (I blended a can and a half-jar to finish up some leftover sauce from another meal) in a small saucepan. I poured about 1/3 of the sauce (roughly one cup) into a casserole and spread it thinly.

Then I beat two eggs in one bowl; in a second bowl I whisked together flour with ample amounts of pepper, oregano, basil, and probably a few other spices. I heated a generous layer of olive oil in a skillet (I'll use our indispensable cast-iron skillet next time, but I was in the wrong kitchen for that). I dredged the chicken in the egg and then the flour mixture, and cooked until crispy on both sides. I placed this on top of the sauce, and it looked just lovely.

Then I spooned the rest of the sauce on top, adding thin shavings of parmesan. I then baked it at 400F for 40 minutes. Near the end, I cooked up a small amount of ziti to serve on the side. The result was delicious, and the aromas inviting.

Chicken Parm, Plated
In the Whaling House Chartroom

This was clearly a meal for four, with only two of us sheltering, so this was our Saturday linner as well. To reheat it, I put all the leftovers in a skillet, covered, with a tiny amount of water under the chicken and a tiny amount of olive oil over the ziti. I overdid it a bit so there was some scorching -- all the better!

CODA
After spending decades enjoying this dish only when made by others, I will be making it again. And next time we'll be serving it not only with candlelight but also with The Stranger.

Alternative

Thanks to social media, we have this alternative recipe, with really alternative vocabulary. It is apparently quite popular. I only clicked on it because it begins with a close-up of an indispensable cast-iron skillet.

Ginger Ginger Ice Cream Soda

James added a little surprise to a recent dairy delivery - ginger ice cream from Crescent Ridge Farm. And then I remembered we still had some Fever Tree Ginger Beer from our last (pre pandemic) Costco run. It occurred to me that a double-ginger ice cream soda would be a good use of these ingredients. Turns out I was right.

A new twist on an old favorite

A favorite comfort food for our family is Crusty Mexican Bean Bake which comes from the More-With-Less Cookbook. It is essentially sloppy joes baked in a casserole on a simple crust. We typically make it with ground turkey and kidney beans, but we had some unused sausage so I browned that in lieu of the turkey. As would be expected it made for a much spicier dinner. It was good, but I prefer the old way. The other change I made was in place of the 6 oz. can of tomato paste called for in the recipe I used some jarred tomato sauce from Johnny Macaroni's restaurant. We almost never buy pre-made jarred sauce. We typically buy canned tomato sauce in bulk at Costco and add our own ingredients if we want to make pasta sauce or pizza. James found the sauce on his most recent grocery run though, and since Johnny Macaroni's (a local Italian joint where James and I occasionally eat) is closed except for carry out during the pandemic he decided it was a way to give a local business some business.

The original recipe, from our well used cookbook, is shown below.

Egg Cream

Yesterday an article from Gastro Obscura on the egg cream showed up on my Facebook feed, and so I got a bee in my bonnet that I needed to make some. I had heard of them before, and knew that they were made with neither egg nor cream, but had never had one. They are super simple to make at home, and we had all the ingredients we needed: fizzy water (made with our SodaStream); milk, and chocolate sauce. I used the egg cream recipe from Ina Garten and made my own chocolate sauce with the recipe from Barefeet in the Kitchen. I have discovered that we can make chocolate sauce faster than it takes to make a grocery store run to buy it, and of course these days we are avoiding grocery runs as much as possible anyway.

We weren't totally sold on the egg creams. They looked pretty cool with their frothy tops, but as James pointed out, they are essentially homemade Yoo-Hoo, and we both outgrew that about the time our ages hit double digits.

It will probably be a hit with children though and it is rather easy to make.