The Art of Eating In - Cathy Erway [122]
Sarah’s Super-Secret Menudo
This recipe is actually improvised from the one that my coworker gave me, written by his wife, Sarah. I added one pork trotter to the broth to give it extra flavor; for the faint of heart, a few pork soup bones can be used instead.
(MAKES ABOUT 4-6 SERVINGS)
2 tablespoons vegetable oil
1 large onion, finely chopped
5-6 cloves garlic, minced
Salt and pepper to taste
1 pork trotter (or substitute 3-4 pork bones)
½ cup red chili powder2
1 teaspoon oregano
1 teaspoon cumin
1 bunch cilantro, chopped
1½ pounds honeycomb beef tripe, cut into 1-2 inch squares (they’ll shrink)
2 cans hominy, drained and rinsed
In a large pot, heat the oil and sweat the onion over medium-low heat until translucent, about 6 minutes. Add the garlic and a few pinches of salt and pepper. Add the trotter or pork bones and cook, stirring, another minute. Stir in the chili powder, oregano, cumin, and half the chopped cilantro. Add the tripe and enough water to cover. Bring to a boil, then reduce to a simmer; cover and cook for 1 hour. Add the hominy and continue cooking 20-30 minutes. Taste for seasoning, adding extra salt or spices as desired. Serve in bowls with the reserved cilantro for garnish.
Blood Orange and Bacon Hangover Salad
The various and unusual mixture of textures and bright, punch-in-the-face flavors is bound to wake one up in the morning after a rough night out. This salad combines spicy radishes, tart blood oranges, savory bacon, and a crumble of roasted pistachios in a salad that’s as visually stunning as it is wake-worthy.
(SERVES ABOUT 3-4)
½ cup shelled pistachios
1 tablespoon red wine vinegar
Salt and freshly ground pepper to taste
1 teaspoon Dijon mustard
3 tablespoons olive oil
1 head Boston lettuce (or another leafy green lettuce, such as green leaf or red leaf)
1 large or 2 small blood oranges, peel removed and slices cut out without the pith (membrane that separates the slices)
3 strips bacon, cooked to crispy
2-3 small radishes, quartered to wedges
In a small bowl, combine the red wine vinegar, mustard, and a couple of pinches of salt and pepper. Drizzle in the olive oil while whisking rapidly until mixture is emulsified. Gently tear lettuce into bite-sized pieces. Toss in a large bowl with the dressing and remaining ingredients. Serve immediately.
CHAPTER 13
Cooking Up a Storm
COMPETITIVE COOKING AND COLLABORATIONS
I lay on my back in a shady patch of grass in Prospect Park alongside Karol, staring up at the sky. It was clear blue, with just a few wispy clouds like tautly pulled lambs wool. I could think of no better way to spend the warm June day than like this: surrounded by friends sitting on a pastiche of blankets in a clearing of trees, nibbling at homemade cookies and sipping on iced caipirinhas. It was a warm but breezy eighty degrees in the sun. There was a fountain bursting with a tall spray of water in the center of the large lawn where we’d staked our picnic, creating a constant tinkling noise behind the chatter. I could smell the sweet clover from a small patch in the grass beside me. Occasional shouts could be heard from friends who were playing Frisbee down the mead—did I just say “mead”? I think I did. Basically, it was pure heaven in Brooklyn.
As I closed my eyes, Karol yawning at my side, I conjured images of an outdoor picnic in the English countryside. Victorian straw hats, girls fluttering fans before their coyly pressed lips as male suitors stretched on the grass, peeling slices of apple away from their cores and presenting them to the damsels. I imagined spreads of fruit from the Dutch masters’ paintings, or Manet’s Luncheon on the Grass with its lone nude female seated front and center. Only we were fully clothed. Well, all but one. A tiny elderly woman had stepped into the park a short while ago, and promptly into the fountain. She began to strip to her underpants and a long button-down shirt, then continued to stand there in the sprinkling pool for a few minutes, absent-looking and utterly silent.
But aside from