Jiggly Bits

Back in the day (which, thanks to my non-native English speaking friend who once stopped me in mid-conversation to ask why I always talk about "bacon days", is now and forever referred to as such) I worked in the produce department at our local grocery store.  My shifts were spent sweeping up onion skins, promising customers that we honestly weren't hiding more tomatoes in storage and keeping my eye on the apples (and removing the many with toddler sized bite marks).  My best friend (The Other Hannah) worked in the bakery, conveniently located at the far end of the produce aisle (which wasn't very far, because the store was very small).  When she wasn't busy squeezing fillings into danish or spraying imitation kirsch on black forest cakes, she'd wander in to my section to see what was new and good.

Apart from the typical fresh fruits and vegetables, our produce department sometimes stocked specialty items, often some sort of confectionery, and, for a long while, we two Hannahs debated whether sharing the cost of some Aplets & Cotlets (apparently a Pacific Northwest delicacy) would merit each of us chipping in thirty minutes of wage.  The packaging promised tidbits of apples or apricots and pieces of walnuts that were magically suspended in a glistening gel candy then dredged in a powdery sugar coat.  They were totally intriguing - in a not exactly appetizing kind of way.  But still...

apples, walnuts, powdered sugar

This memory resurfaced last week as I passed by the dining room table, our fruit basket filled with apples aside an overflowing bowl of mixed nuts.  Out of sheer curiosity I returned to my laptop, Googling "Aplets" to see if they were still in existence (they are) and, to my surprise (or perhaps my demise), I also found an online recipe.  Figuring that Aplets might be a possible way to integrate a tiny taste of home into my Christmas treat baskets this year, I read through the ingredients in this posted version and, with great excitement, confirmed that I had everything on hand that I'd need to make them.  Then I got cracking...

And when I say I got cracking, I should eliminate your notion that I ran to the kitchen and whipped up a fantastic batch in the 25 minute prep time as listed.  No, when I say I got cracking, I mean I got cracking; sack of walnuts in one hand, nutcracker in the other, I extracted and chopped until I reached one cup of nuts.

cracked walnut

one cup of hand cracked walnuts

The next morning, while sipping my first cup of coffee, I re-read the recipe, consciously aware of the footnote suggesting that lemon juice, of which I have an endless supply, would be a suitable substitute for rose water, of which I have none.  My half-caffeinated brain argued otherwise. Replace roses with lemons?  While lemons and roses are both deliciously aromatic and both have quite distinct flavours, they are so far from being the same that I just wasn't buying the trade.  And so, before coffee number two, I was Googling "how to make rose water".

fresh cut red rose

I know what you're thinking.  Oh my-lanta!  She made her own rose water!  Yes, and I could let you go on believing that I'm some culinary chemist wizard, but instead I'll tell you the truth.  I learned, through a terrific tutorial at We Like Making Our Own Stuff, a blog with straight forward instructions and a helpful pictorial, that making rose water is a cinch.  Using six basic items (a pot, water, roses, ice, a bowl and a rock - it doesn't get much simpler than that), and with my lovely assistant, "honey" (to keep the lid from getting pushed off the pot), I distilled myself a batch.

pot with inverted lid, ice pack and my lovely assistant, "honey"

Now that I had my rose water, I was ready to go nuts with my Aplets.  I peeled my apples, simmered and pureed them, and continued to follow the recipe as instructed.  When all was said and done, I had a shimmering pan full of apple-walnutty goodness; I couldn't wait for it to set.

I waited...

And I waited...

And I waited some more.

Humidity and gelatin are not good playmates.

pan of apple walnutty goodness

The next day (and more than 24 hours after I'd poured my jelly to set), I decided that whatever will be, will be.  With a sharp, oiled knife I began to slice and carefully lifted the long strips of confection out of the pan.  I chopped each strip in to bite sized squares and started to roll them in sugar.

Here's when things got sticky.

After the first few pieces were rolled, they immediately soaked up the sugar.  Observing my syrupy mess of squares, I opted to leave them to set for yet another day.  Perhaps they'd firm up, or dry out... or something?  I placed them gently on a paper towel lined tray, covered them with a mesh dome and left them alone 'til tomorrow.  

sugar coating:  round one

One week (yep, you heard me) and one roll of paper towel later, my Aplets were ready (in other words, I was sick of seeing that tray).  My patience had prevailed.  They had (sort of) firmed up.  As I finally began to roll them in sugar, I rewarded my own perseverance by plucking a finished-as-it's-ever-going-to-get candy from the cup and popping it in my mouth.

And I was instantly reminded of the ending to the story of us coveting those cotlets 'bacon days' at the store.  We did end up buying them.  We did end up eating them.  I did not end up liking them at all.  And why would I? Jell-O makes me gag.  Molded salads scare me.  I obviously don't. like. gelatinous. foods.  Double U Tee Eff was I thinking? ...

aplets

In all fairness, there are a plethora of people who adore Aplets & Cotlets and my personal distaste should not reflect poorly on the original product as sold.  If jiggly bits are your thing, the recipe I used is probably even adequately delightful;  but, defeated by humidity and (still!) dissolving sugar, I just could not bring myself to gift these away.  Suddenly, like the eight year old me who once begged my mom for a can of TaB, even as she insisted I wouldn't like it, and only because the can was pink, I was stuck with a tray of nutty applish jelly goo squares that, one cup of hand cracked nuts and a small bottle of homemade rose water later, I couldn't let go to waste and would need to choke back on my own.  Ugh.

At least I learned how to make rose water.  I'll be using the rest in our New Year's Eve champagne.

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Comfy Cabbage Rolls (Unrolled)

I'm a big fan of cabbage rolls.  I'm not a big fan of making cabbage rolls.  Okay, honestly?  I've never actually made cabbage rolls... (no, that wasn't me, that was Saša who made the sarma); just thinking about the process of individually stuffing cabbage leaves completely puts me off.  I prefer to practice a literal approach to comfort food; I seek comfort while the food cooks itself.

But I'm a big fan of cabbage rolls.  I needed to find a way to work this out.  And, without using any boyfriend bribery, I eventually did. Woot!

I'm going to tell you a secret.  You can get all of the flavour (and infinitely more comfort) of traditional cabbage rolls by using the same ingredients sans stuffing and rolling.  Yes, really.  Don't tell your amazing cabbage roll making friends and/or relatives because they'll never make the real deal for you again if they ever find this out.

This dish is embarrassingly simple to prepare (as in you need the cooking skills of a thumbtack) and requires very few ingredients (most of which you probably have on hand).  If you are longing for a lazy afternoon but still want to impress those around your dinner table (with flavour - not with presentation... because honestly it looks like a pile of slop) then grab your aprons and let's go...

You will need an average size head of green cabbage (or 2 small ones... or part of a massive one...), a couple of onions, about a pound of ground meat (I use mixed pork and beef), raw white rice, 2 x 500 g cartons of tomato sauce (that's roughly 3.5 cups for the imperialists - based not on mathematical conversions, but rather by pouring water in to my empty cartons to measure it just for you), honey, lemon juice, soy sauce, salt, pepper and garlic powder.  You will also need a large pot (my 5.5 litre is just large enough to make this) with a lid.

chopped onions

Once you have gathered your ingredients, heat a small amount of fat (butter, lard, oil... whatever makes you comfy) in your large pot over medium-low heat.  Chop up your onions and add them to the pot.  You don't want to fry or brown the onions, you just want to heat them until they are soft and infuse the fat with their flavour - adjust your burner temperature accordingly.  

softening the onions

While your onions are softening, cut your cabbage into large chunky pieces.  Loosely separate the cabbage leaves to break apart any too chunky chunks and give them a nice rinse under your kitchen tap to get rid of any residual yuck.

  

chunky cabbage

Add the cabbage to the pot, a few handfuls at a time, stirring to mix with the onions.  Don't freak out if you can't fit all the cabbage in to the pot right away as it will shrink while it heats and will create room for more.

green cabbage and onions

Once you have added the cabbage to the pot (or in between adding handfuls), combine 4 soup sized spoonfuls of honey with 60 ml (1/4 cup) of lemon juice.  I recommend squeezing two medium sized lemons because fresh is always best - but use what you've got.

  

juicing lemons

Mix the honey/lemon with 500 ml (2 cups) water (I did mine right in the honey jar because I only had about 4 spoonfuls of honey left in there).  Add the tomato sauce (1 kg or 750 ml-ish or 3.5 cups-ish...) and season with salt, pepper and garlic powder.  Your seasoning will depend entirely on your taste (and whether you used salted or seasoned tomato sauce) BUT... don't get too heavy with the shakers as you'll be adding some seasonings to your meat as well... and you can always add more later if needed.  You have been warned.

salt, pepper, tomato sauce, garlic powder and honey (with lemon juice and water)

Pour the sauce over the cabbage in the pot, increase the burner temperature and bring to a boil, stirring occasionally.  When the sauce begins to boil, cover the pot with a lid and simmer while you make the meatballs.  Don't worry if your sauce isn't covering all the cabbage - it will be eventually.  As your cabbage simmers away in the sauce, it's time to make the meatballs. 

tomato sauce poured over cabbage and onions

seasonings, ground meat, uncooked white rice

Combine your ground meat (excuse the brown bits in the photo - I left it to defrost in the microwave a few seconds too long) with 50g (1/4 cup) of UNCOOKED white rice, a splash of soy sauce (or worcestershire if you'd rather...), garlic powder, pepper and salt.  As with the tomato sauce, the seasoning level is left up to you.  Don't over mix or squeeze the meat, just gently toss the ingredients together until everything is combined.  Speaking of meatballs, I should probably mention that,unless you don't mind having a layer of fat floating on top of the pot as you get ready to serve your meal, using lean ground meat will be your best choice.

ground mixed meat with uncooked rice, soy sauce and seasonings

By the time you finish mixing your meat and carry it over to the stove, you will notice that your simmering cabbage is now nicely covered with sauce (see?  I told you it would happen!).  

simmering cabbage (now nicely covered with sauce)

Form the meat mixture in to small meatballs and drop them in to the pot on top of the cabbage.  When all the meatballs have been added to the pot, press them gently with the back of a spoon to cover them with sauce.  Bring the sauce back up to a gentle boil (if it isn't already), cover, reduce the heat and simmer for 2 hours. Two whole hours!!  That's ample time to get comfy.  You may now kick back and relax while your home fills with the cozy scent of comfortable.

meatballs and cabbage simmering in tomato sauce

As your meal makes away on the stovetop, do peek under the lid every so often to ensure that you are still at a simmer and to give it a gentle stir.  My 'stirring' involves sliding a large wooden spoon down the side of the pot and stirring along the bottom so that I don't disturb the meatballs.  Don't panic if (and when) your meatballs crumble... in the end you will have some random meaty bits throughout the sauce, but you will still have some nice big chunky lumps.  After two hours of simmer (or longer - that's okay too), call everyone to the table and enjoy your comfy cabbage not-rolls.  Serve with mashed potatoes and sour cream.

random meaty bits and big chunky lumps

As promised, this dish is the epitome of comfort food and is sure to please the masses.  I assume it will freeze well (we just eat it for three days straight... and it gets better and better each day).  I did already tell you that this meal isn't pretty... but that's comfort food.  You probably don't look your finest when you're donning decade old sweatshirts, flannel pajama bottoms and mismatched wool socks... but the way you feel when you're wearing them best explains my point.

comfy cabbage rolls (unrolled), mashed potatoes and sour cream

Seriously Curious:  What's your all-time, absolute favourite comfort food and what makes it so deliciously comforting?  Shoot me a short comment below or answer my question @ The Perfect Avocado on Facebook.  I really want to know!

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Chicken of Circumstance

Sometimes I'm completely backwards with my meal planning method. Instead of taking meat from the freezer and finding something to accompany it, I will decide I'm in the mood for, say, pineapple, and then work out a meal to incorporate it. Such was the situation a few days ago when I found myself at the market, blindsided by a basket of beautiful beans.

green and gorgeous

But this is not about the beans. Their duty is done. They sat in wait in their raw wooden crate being all green and gorgeous until I just had to have them.  They were the bait that lead to the switch in the story of meal planning backwards.

Bag in hand, knowing that I couldn't just serve up a plate full of green beans for dinner (though, I actually could - and would be perfectly happy with it), it was now my job to drum up the rest of the meal.  I began by banging my green bean repertoire around in my brain - sauteed? steamed? side dish? stir fry? lemon? garlic? almond? sesame? SESAME! oh-yes-a-me.  And the rest came tumbling after.

This simple sesame chicken, victim of my vegetable circumstance, is a delightful dish that can be made in the same amount of time it takes to cook some rice and steam some beans (and half the time it takes to read this article). If you don't require an obscene amount of meat, it can also be quite economical.  One half of a large boneless, skinless chicken breast feeds the two of us.  If you are a raging carnivore, or are feeding a family of more, feel free to double, triple or mass produce. It will all work out fine (and leftovers are always nice too).

beans on board

First, rinse your breast (the chicken.. the CHICKEN!) and pat dry with a paper towel  Here we could insert an entire conversation about whether we should or shouldn't rinse our chicken prior to cooking - but, since it's my blog, and I do, that's the first step. I guess some may argue that the probability of cross contamination increases if you rinse due to water splashing on to items within close proximity, but I'm not recreating a scene reminiscent of Flashdance here, I'm simply running a single breast under a slow flowing tap, wrapping it in a double paper towel and placing it on my glass board - sans splash - zero drips.  What more can I say? I like my breasts bathed and swaddled before they hit the pan.  Anyway... do rinse or don't rinse, then, if your breasts are thick like mine (stop now), slice through horizontally to make two pieces of equal thickness, then cut into a-bit-smaller-than-bite-size cubes.

one half boneless, skinless chicken breast...

Now, I'm fairly confident that most of you (aside from, perhaps, the raging carnivores) will share my opinion that raw meat is generally not an attractive subject matter for photographs; but, after a recent conversation in which a friend could not grasp, through my words, the concept of horizontal slicing (forgive her, English is not her first language), I have reluctantly decided to illustrate. Please bear with me. Cooking isn't always pretty.  Besides, all this talk about breasts and photos of naked chicks should get me a few extra hits on my blog; my Naked Noodles post is extremely popular, and not because Googlers are searching for plain ol' spaghetti (sorry to disappoint, folks).

... horizontally sliced becomes two...

...and then cubed.

Ok, back to the task at hand.  Sauté a handful of diced onion and a couple cloves of chopped garlic in a small amount of oil (I use olive - and just enough to coat the bottom of the pan and to carry the flavours).  When the onion is soft, add the cubed chicken and allow to cook through until no longer pink.

sesame seeds, dried chili pepper flakes, honey, sesame oil, soy sauce

While the chicken, garlic and onions are happily cooking on the stove, make your sauce.  In a small bowl or cup, stir together a large spoonful of honey, an equal amount of soy sauce, a touch of sesame oil (depending on your taste because it is powerful stuff... I probably used about 1/4 tsp) and 75mL (ish) of water.  Add 1/4 tsp powdered ginger (unless you are lucky enough to have fresh) and 1 tsp cornstarch; whisk until smooth then finish with a dash or two of dried chili pepper flakes (according to taste).  Remember that this is enough sauce for one half chicken breast - increase the amounts if you'll be using more.

When the chicken is cooked through, add the sauce to the pan and stir until it becomes slightly thickened (add a bit more water if the sauce is too thick).  Stir in a small spooful of toasted sesame seeds; cover and simmer for about ten minutes (or until your rice and green beans are done).

Assemble.  Serve.  Love.

sesame chicken w/ green beans and rice

I generally lack imagination and enthusiasm when my starting point is meat.  Backwards works best for me. Instead of torturing myself with "what should I do with this chicken?" while pacing from cupboard to cupboard with occasional stops at the fridge, I'll take a trip to the market (or garden!), allow myself to be swayed by a seasonally spectacular vegetable and become inspired to create a meal. 

Seriously Curious:  Do you rinse your chicken before cooking, or is it just me?!  Shoot me a short comment below, or visit The Perfect Avocado on Facebook to tell me why you do (or don't).  I've really got to know!
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When Life Gives You Lemons...

One of my favorite things about island life is the abundant supply of lemons and, with our own little tree in the garden, the availability of freshly squeezed juice just mere steps away.  As a long time lover of lemons (and generally all things tart), I've been using them wherever I possibly can.  Lemonade, cake, chicken, rice, bars, tea, fish... The list goes on, yet still I continue to search out new ways to cash in on our yellow bounty.

our little lemon tree

The other day a friend asked me if I had any good dessert recipes.  With my standard disclaimer that I am more cook than bake, I asked him what type of desserts he liked.  When he responded with liquid-ish items, including yogurt and vla, my interest peaked; these are the types of desserts that are right up my alley.  For those who don't know what vla is (don't worry, neither did I), it is a Dutch custard product that, to the best of my wiki knowledge, is similar to flan. This same friend, just moments before posing the dessert question, had recited a recipe for eggs that incorporated lemon juice.  I took a quick mental stock.  I knew he liked lemon.  I knew he ate eggs.  I knew he enjoyed the consistency of custards.  I knew exactly what to make.

bowl of lemons

Lemon curd (or spread) is one of those items I always find myself stopping to look at in the grocery store. I consider it and then put right back on the shelf.  Aside from the exaggerated price, I am generally disappointed with products containing prefabricated pie filling (blame my mom for spoiling me with homemade lemon meringue) and I am quick to assume that the fancy jelly aisle jars contain precisely that.  It looks good in theory, but I know better than to be tempted by pretty packaged promises.

juicer w/cut lemon

Fresh lemon curd is seriously as simple as zesting a couple of lemons, squeezing out the juice and mixing it with sugar, eggs, and butter.  I'm not going to go through the motions of telling you exactly how to make it, instead I will just cut to the chase and suggest that you use the recipe posted at joyofbaking.com; the results were simply to die for and I couldn't explain it any better myself.  Do yourself one better and bake her cream scones too.  You'll thank me (and Joy of Baking) for it later.

lemon curd

At first taste, I immediately announced that the spread was way too sweet.  Then I instantly changed my mind and deemed it far too tart.  My confused mouth sent mixed messages to my brain, and I took a good couple of minutes to battle it out in my mind; Sweet?  Tart!  Sweet!  Tart?   I argued with myself as I continued taking tastes.  Whatever it was, it was good, so we loaded our basket with scones and went out to the terrace to enjoy the luscious lemon curd in all of its full flavoured glory. 

lemon curd w/cream scones

Sweet...  Tart...  Sweet... Tart...  I honestly couldn't decide.  That's how I knew it was perfect.
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This Is How I Roll

For almost seven months I have been tortilla free.  This is not a lifestyle choice, it is a situation of circumstance.  On the odd occasion that I do find a package for purchase, at more-than-meat prices for a small bag of eight, I've been forced to go without (aside from the ones my sister sent at Christmas!) for the duration of my island life.

Last October, when I first learned of my unfortunate lack of wrap, I searched for (and found) a recipe for flour tortillas.  Since then, I have been in a constant conflict with myself over whether or not I should try. "There must be some secret formula for tackling tortillas or everyone would always be making them," I thought to myself while reviewing the way too simple steps and, even though my printed copy omitted any mention of a proper press mechanism, I was stubbornly insistent that one was needed in order to make them right.  Each time I considered giving it a shot, I quickly talked myself out of it, balking at the imminent disappointment for lack of the "real thing".

Now, all these months later, with my travel plans recently confirmed for a return trip to the lovely land of groceries, one would assume that I could hold out for just a few more weeks (wrong!)  In recollection, perhaps it was even because of that; the knowing that an actual burrito was in my foreseeable future was the straw that finally broke this camel's back.   Whatever the case, I was bravely inspired.  Besides, other than a couple hundred grams of flour, I really had nothing to lose.

The following photos were taken from my second batch of tortillas, not because the first ones were a flop, but because they were so terrific that I just had to make them again (along with a spelt-wheat batch for a friend). I will likely never buy tortillas from the grocery store again. Yes, really.

Flour Tortillas

rolling pin

To make six medium sized tortillas, combine 225g (1½ cups) flour, ½ tsp baking powder, a little less than ½ tsp salt and a pinch of sugar in a bowl. Cut in 1½ Tbsp of lard until well blended. Gradually add 125 mL (½ cup) lukewarm water, mixing to form a crumbly dough. I find that my hands are, by far, the best equipment for this.

crumbly dough

Once you have a nice crumbly dough, form it together into one large ball and knead very well until smooth. Form the dough to a cylindrical shape and cut into six equal pieces; roll each piece into a ball and set them aside for about fifteen minutes. This is the perfect time to prepare whatever you will be filling your tortillas with once you finish cooking them.

six equal pieces | resting dough balls

After their rest, place a seriously generous amount of flour on your counter. Working one at a time, flatten each of the dough rounds with your hand, flip it over, then roll it out flat with a rolling pin. Use a good amount of pressure and roll the dough as thin as possible, continuing to flip as necessary and keeping your work area well floured so your tortillas don't stick to the counter or the rolling pin.

dough ball flattened by hand

rolled out thin

Cook each tortilla on an ungreased griddle or cast iron pan over medium heat, flipping when the first side begins to blister and brown. As your tortillas puff up, keep them pressed flat with the back side of a spatula, spoon or flipper. When they become too bubbly to keep flat, they are done. Total cooking time will be roughly 1½-2 minutes each. As you remove your tortillas from the pan, wrap them in a dry towel to keep them warm.

before flipping the blistering tortilla

pressing down bubbles

I could not, in good conscience, pass along this recipe without first ensuring that these tortillas had endured a full range of qualification tests to prove their worth. Having now used this recipe to make tortillas for soft wrapped burritos, fried quesadillas and baked enchilada-ish style wraps, I can confidently encourage you to try these easy, delicious and low cost replacements for any flour tortilla variety that you'd normally buy at the store.  Olé!

warm tortillas

white flour and spelt wheat tortillas

Recipe for Tortillas De Harina (Flour Tortillas) as originally posted at Recipezaar.
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Braised Blackberry Pork

On our last trip to the "big" market, we bought a large jar of blackberries and, while I typically find the preserving liquid too sweet or the fruit too mushy in factory processed canned fruit, I was extremely impressed with both the quality and the flavour. These whole, firm berries, preserved in their own juice without added sweeteners were a surprise find indeed.

After eating most of the berries with yogurt, the jar still remained half full of juice. Sloshing it down the sink seemed such a waste so I challenged myself to find something to do with it. After spending some time searching recipes online, I became inspired by a mishmash of possibilities and created a pretty incredible dish. So incredible, in fact, that I made it two days in a row.

Braised Pork Rolls with Blackberry Gravy

To begin, brew a half cup of strong black tea.  Unlike the wine in last month's Drunken Applesauce, this tea is all for the recipe so, if you would like a cup to drink, be sure to brew more.  Once your tea is steeped, remove the tea bag or tea leaves and add one half of a vegetable or chicken bouillon cube.  Add one cup of blackberry juice and two tablespoons of balsamic vinegar.  Stir and set this aside.

Next, finely dice one small onion (reserving half of it for later), a bit of celery and some fresh parsley; sauté in a small amount of butter until the onions are soft.  Remove from heat and stir in some salt, pepper and poultry seasoning (I use Vegeta but I know this is not possible for everyone so the former will suffice).  Toss in a good handful of torn up day old bread and stir to mix well.  If the mixture seems a bit dry you can add a touch of water (or some of the juice as prepared above) but avoid making it too wet as it will end up very soggy after cooking.  Making this two days in a row, mine was too moist on day one; I opted for more butter and no liquid on day two and it was perfect.

torn bread, diced onions, celery, parsley

Now take your boneless pork chops and pound them to make them fairly flat and thin.  I just used two random pork chops and deboned them before hammering; they didn't look so pretty and were irregular in shape, but it didn't matter in the end.  Divide your bread mixture to cover both flattened chops, then roll them up, tucking in the edges to make sure the stuffing stays inside.  If your chops are very fatty around the edges they will curl some while they cook which might make them come a bit undone; you can tie them up with strings, but I don't like to mess with them afterward so I just don't bother.  Once your little rolls are tightly packed and well formed, dredge them in flour and set aside.

flattened pork chops with stuffing

dredging stuffed pork rolls

In the same saucepan that you used to make the stuffing mix, sauté the reserved half of the onion plus a teaspoon of thyme (I used dried - if you have fresh, adjust accordingly) in a small amount of fat (I used pork lard) - just enough to keep the onions and thyme from burning.  Add your pork rolls and lightly brown on all sides; leave them seam side down and then add 1/3 of the the tea/juice mixture you have prepared.  Stir around the pork to mix the juice with the onions, bring to a gentle boil, cover, reduce the heat to low and simmer for an hour.

browning pork rolls with onions and thyme

stuffed pork ready to simmer

Once you put the lid on the pan, you have time to clean up your mess, peel potatoes and put them on to boil, fix your salad or prepare your vegetables.  Every 15 minutes(ish) stir the sauce, lifting the pork to scrape any stuck bits off the bottom of the pan.  Add a tiny bit more of your reserved juice to the pan, drizzling over the pork and bringing the sauce back up to a boil each time before replacing the lid.

After an hour, remove the pork from the pan, place on a plate and cover with the lid to keep warm.  Mix a tablespoon or two of flour (I just used the rest from the dredging) with an equal amount of the reserved juice and mix well.  Slowly add your floury juice to the sauce in the pan, whisking constantly, to make the gravy.  Add the remaining tea/juice and continue to stir, allowing it to boil for about five minutes to reduce and thicken (and cook away any raw pork 'ick' if you used the dredging flour like I did).  Remove from heat, stir in a few whole berries, return the pork to the pan and serve  (alternatively you could arrange on plates or place in a proper serving dish - we aren't always so civilized).

braised pork rolls w/blackberry gravy | horseradish mashed potatoes

This very simple stove top meal will be on your table in just over an hour and the simmering time, which allows for full kitchen cleanup plus meal accompaniment preparation, is actually a time saving bonus.  An easy way to make your everyday pork chop extraordinary, giving you plenty of time to relax and enjoy these individual tender braised pork rolls packed with fresh stuffing smothered in rich burgundy blackberry gravy.

stuffed rolled pork w/ blackberry gravy | horseradish mashed potatoes

Drunken Applesauce

Sometimes deciding what to make for dinner is somewhat of a backwards task.  I never seem to say, "lets have chicken" and then figure out what to make with it.  No, instead it's more like, "I feel like gravy" or "sauteed mushrooms would be nice" and then build a meal from there.  This happened the other day while staring at my overabundance of apples which, unlike my disappearing banana problem, seem to magically multiply like rabbits by some unexplained (but seriously true) phenomenon.  I am certainly not complaining; I love apples and eat them almost daily - I just have no idea why that bowl never gets empty.  Anyway, as I picked through the bowl of apples looking for a prime choice to snack on, I was struck by an incredible craving for applesauce.

Because applesauce is so embarrassingly easy to make, I am actually baffled as to why anyone (including myself) bothers to buy it in cans or in jars.  Aside from easy, and even better, is the ability to tweak it specifically to your exact taste or accompanying meal by using different varieties of apples and experimenting with a countless combination of spices, juices and/or additional fruits.  Most recently I chose wine because, as with the apples, I am blessed with an ever-flowing supply.

Drunken Applesauce

First, pour a nice large glass of dry red wine.  This is (mostly) for you to enjoy, though some is for the apples, so don't drink it all in one place.  Skipping this step is not optional; if you don't have wine that is good enough to drink, this applesauce isn't for you.  So go ahead and pour; I'll wait.

peeling apples

Good.  Now that you have your glass (cheers!), select four large apples.  I'm not picky about type, but I do prefer firm, crisp apples rather than soft, mealy ones.  Peel, quarter and core the apples, then slice each quarter in to a medium saucepan.  Add about 1/3 cup (80 mL) of your wine to the apples.  It will seem like the wine disappears (actually, I meant the wine in the pot of apples, not your glass - but by all means, top yourself up.  I'll wait). Anyway, don't worry about the seeming lack of liquid; it is more than enough to make a good saucy sauce. 

Sweetness is something you will need to determine for yourself depending on the variety of apples used and what level of sweet/tart you desire.  For average's sake I will say add one level soup spoon of sugar (about 1 Tbsp); I use less (just a sprinkle of turbinado) and you may want more or maybe even none.  My advice is to aim for the lesser side of sweet - you can always increase it later.

precooked drunken applesauce

Add a bay leaf to the pot, then cover and cook over medium heat, stirring occasionally.  As the apples begin to soften, mash them a bit with your spoon.  After about 20 minutes, remove the lid and the bay leaf; simmer and stir to reduce the liquid to desired consistency.  Add a small spoonful of salted butter (about 1 tsp) and stir until melted - trust me, it's worth it.  Your applesauce will be chunky (that's how I like it) but can easily be processed until smooth with a hand blender or potato masher.

after twenty minutes

Drunken Applesauce is delicious both hot and cold.  If you are like me and have planned a meal around the sauce, be sure to sneak a little bit out of the pot for later so you can try it both ways.  Better yet, double or triple the amounts of everything - just please don't forget that you've got this on the burner (or blame me for tomorrow's headache) if you also double or triple the amounts of nice large glasses of dry red wine for yourself.  Cheers!

oven crisp pork chops | drunken applesauce | green peas | garlic roasted potatoes

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