Basic Braise (Plus Pudding)
Have you ever gone to the market with a list and a plan, only to find that the main event is not available? I wanted to roast a pork tenderloin on Sunday, but couldn't find one. The butchers at the markets in my area seem to get knife-happy with this cut and slice it up into chops as soon as it arrives. So I didn't have a pork tenderloin. I did, however, have a chunk of pork loin that had such an odd collection of bones in it that it is impossible for me to identify. Seemed like a good braising candidate, though.
I actually found a recipe in Chez Panisse Cooking, which I got for Christmas but hadn't cooked from yet (thanks Linda), for braised pork with fennel, tomatoes and olives. I omitted the fennel and olives, and I used canned tomatoes instead of fresh. (The fennel and olives were because of Todd; the tomatoes were because I can't find good fresh.) I guess I just used the technique, and made a basic sauce that was pretty good.
Todd seared the meat, first on the fatty side and then on three more sides, while I chopped up carrots, celery and onion. Then he took out the meat and I sauteed the vegetables. Once the vegetables started to brown and had picked up the stuff on the bottom of the pan, I studded the pork with garlic slices and plopped it on top of the vegetables. Added water and whole canned tomatoes I had cut up, put a tight lid on the Dutch oven, and put it in a 350 oven for two hours. Then I took the pork out, fed about half of the vegetables through the food mill and back into the sauce, and reduced the sauce until it started to get thick. (I never have the patience to fully reduce a sauce; in What Einstein Told His Cook, Wolke says "you might have to simmer for an hour or more to accomplish the simple-sounding recipe instruction to 'reduce by half.'" Apparently it takes the same amount of energy to boil off a pint of water as it does for a 125-pound woman to walk up stairs for 18 minutes.) Serve with bread to mop up the juices and maybe something green (we had asparagus).
It was snowing, so I felt the need to finish the meal with a light chocolate pudding recipe that I got from the Cooking Thin cookbook: Mix 1/4 cup sugar, 1/4 cup cocoa and 2 Tbsp cornstarch. Put over medium-high heat and slowly stir in 2 cups lowfat milk. Stir until it starts to thicken, about 5 minutes, then add 2 oz semisweet or bittersweet chocolate. Stir 5 more minutes until chocolate has melted. Take off heat, cool for 5 minutes (I stir during this time to keep the skim from forming), stir in 1 tsp vanilla extract and scrape into 4 cups. At this point I like to eat the warm pudding, but Todd prefers his cooled in the refrigerator (again, to avoid the skim on top I cover the pudding with plastic wrap, making sure the wrap touches the entire surface of the pudding).
Love your site. I was skimming the archives and when I got to this post I had to ask:
Am I the only one who loves the skin on top of pudding? I adore it, and have ever since I was a child. It's my favorite part of the pudding.
I think the world is divided evenly into those who love the pudding skim and those who hate it. I, unfortunately, fall into the latter camp, but I have all kinds of weirdness about pudding anyway: I have to eat it in tiny bites because I don't like a mouthful of pudding, it can't have things in it (tapioca, yuck), there can't be too much there. Although I will eat a slice of pudding pie, which is basically pudding combined with other textures. A giant dollop of whipped cream does wonders, too.