I'm Just Here for the Food_ Version 2.0 - Alton Brown [82]
4:15 P.M.
Less than three hours to go. Most chili recipes require that long just to chop the ingredients. The actual cooking could take days, what with all that connective tissue to break down. Clearly, the pressure was on—heck, working under pressure had been the plan all along.
I broke out my heavy-duty 8-quart pressure cooker and poured in the salsa (16 ounces—I measured) and the rest of the beer (1 cup—again, I measured). Then I added the meat, along with all the juices that had accumulated at the bottom of the bowl. I stirred in a fat tablespoon of the tomato paste and then added 15 corn chips (did I mention these were the triangular kind?), which I broke to bits by pushing them down into the meaty melange with a wooden spoon.
4:18 P.M.
Lid on. I let the cooker come to full pressure over high heat, then backed off the heat until the steam dropped to a bare hiss and set the timer for 15 minutes.
4:33 P.M.
When the timer went off, I released the pressure valve and dumped the steam. (This always reminds of that scene at the end of Alien when Sigourney Weaver flushes the alien from its hiding spot on the shuttle.) I then added 1 tablespoon of chili powder, 1 teaspoon of ground cumin, 2 of the canned chipotles (chopped) along with 2 tablespoons of the accompanying adobo sauce. I stirred the whole thing, decided to add another handful of chips (the first load had disintegrated), lidded up, and brought the cooker back up to pressure for another 10 minutes. I then removed the cooker from the heat and allowed the pressure to abate on its own. When I removed the lid, the meat was fork tender and the sauce pleasantly spicy and thick.
7:00 P.M.
Back on my friend’s porch, I served the chili with a dollop of sour cream and chopped green onions and won the bet. Total bill (including the tomato paste I already had): $7.74.28
CHAPTER 7
Brining
There are lots of ways to get flavor into food, but brining is the only way I know to season, enhance texture, and add weight to a piece of meat.
Have a Soak or Maybe a Rubdown
Like humans (or most of us), the words “marinade” and “brine” evolved from the sea: marinade’s root is marine, and brine’s—well, you know, briny deep and all that. Over time, marinade came to mean just about any flavorful liquid you soak a food in, and marinate came to mean the act of soaking a food in a flavorful liquid. Brine is both a noun and a verb: a salt solution and the act of soaking in said solution. It stands to reason, therefore, that while you can marinate a pork chop in a brine you can’t necessarily brine a pork chop in a marinade—unless, of course, that marinade is a brine. Got it? If you haven’t got time for a lengthy soak, try a quick rubdown—with spices, of course.
Marinades
Marinades have long been hailed as “tenderizers.” They’re not. Sure, acidic liquids (most if not all marinades contain an acid component such as vinegar, wine, or citrus juice) can dissolve proteins and even plant cellulose, but the effect is localized to the surface of the target food. Some food scientists even argue that the tenderizing effect doesn’t kick in until the meat crosses 140° F, but that’s not to say that marinating in the refrigerator is useless.
The reason that marinades seem to tenderize has more to do with flavor than any actual textural alterations. Most marinades contain salty, sweet, acidic, and spicy components. When these compounds are drawn into meat via capillary action,29 they strongly season the meat. Then you cook it, slice it, and put it in your mouth. Immediately the salt and acid flavors divebomb your taste buds, which in turn tell your saliva glands to start pumping. By the time you’re onto your third chew your food is thoroughly lubricated, and since saliva contains enzymes like amylase, the meat is already well on its way to becoming an easy-to-digest goo. Marinades may not actually do much in the way of tenderizing meat, but their use does help us to tenderize it.
Brine
A brine is nothing more than a solution of salt and sugar dissolved in water.