Last week I attended a cooking class that was all about pork. Five full dishes using pork (4 entrees with chops or tenderloins) and an egg frittata that I posted about already. I may not make these dishes anytime soon, just because I’ve had enough pork to last me for a couple of weeks. The photo was one I took at the class. A very easy, easy recipe, and had delicious flavor.

When you cut up a pork tenderloin into small medallions, if you cook them just until they’re to the pink stage, they’ll be very tender. It’s easy to tell when they’re done because of the texture – as you press on it with a pair of tongs, it will still have some give to it. Past that, it begins to get more firm, and finally it gets to be like shoe leather. Certainly not something I want to eat. It takes no time at all to cook them anyway, and these take a max of about 10 minutes of cooking altogether. The sauce is very tangy. The kind you would really like to get every last drop, so would make great juice to have over mashed potatoes, perhaps. Or rice.

In this particular dish, you want to have browned bits in the bottom of the pan, so don’t use a nonstick pan, but a good, heavy duty skillet where you can get good browning and the fond will contribute to the flavor. If you like ginger, add more. I also thought garlic would be a good addition, but not a lot, since you wouldn’t want it to overpower the other flavors.
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My DH (that’s dear husband) always thought he was the king of the grill. Well, he still is, but it’s been a circuitous route. All these years he’s told me he knew what he was doing, knew how long to cook a chicken breast. Mostly I believed him, but then we’d have a disaster on the grill. But then he’d do a perfect steak, and my faith was renewed. Seems like it was always the chicken breasts that got us.

So I signed up to take a grilling class (and took my DH Dave along). He got a lot out of it too. But whether he’d actually do all the different techniques we learned, well, I wasn’t altogether sure. But I figured if I did all the prep work – and set up the meat thermometer so it’s all ready to go, set for the interior grill temp and the meat temp, AND tell him what the drill is, he’d be willing.

My first attempt after we’d gone to the class was on . . . guess what? . . . chicken breasts. I’d learned that the temperature needed to be 155 when you take them off the grill. I’d bought a good probe meat thermometer (the one in the picture above), fiddled with the darned thing until I got it set properly, and we began. My thermometer happens to be a Polder brand, but there are others out there. I highly recommend buying one that takes both temperatures (interior oven/grill and meat). They’re more expensive, but worth the expense, I think.

The Polder thermometer only has a couple of things I don’t like about it: (1) the temperature rolls only in an up direction, and it goes clear to 600 degrees, so it takes a long time to scroll it through that; (2) the metal wire connector has to drape from the meat in the oven and gets squished in the oven door a bit . . . over the years I’ve had it, it now has flattened, and sometimes works erratically. But that has to do with the firm seal on my Dacor oven, I think, and can’t be helped. Not Polder’s fault.

So, here’s the very basic stuff we learned at the class: (1) Mark the meat. That can be done with almost any meat, poultry or fish. You need to have the grill temp set high enough so it will make marks on the meat. So, it’s like browning the meat in a skillet, but you brown the meat at a fairly high temp.

(2) Reduce the temp and move most of the meat types to indirect heat to finish cooking. The first try at chicken was sensational. Amazing what you can do if you cook the meat until it’s JUST done. You just have to learn when that is, and the meat thermometer will let you know (mine has an alarm) so when it reaches temperature you can remove it immediately. We moved on to trying some other meats, and I kept having to look it up – what temp does that meat have to be when it’s medium rare, or just cooked? So I started compiling a list. I took the notes from the grilling class, referred to several other books I have, and came up with my own chart. It’s what I rely on all the time now. Most of the temperatures and notes come from Hugh Carpenter, but I’ve added some others. My roasting grilling chart, that I created using Excel, is converted to a pdf – a one page sheet. If it will help you with your grilling and roasting (use it for oven roasting too), just download and print. Bottom line . . . it’s been like an aha moment. The techniques work. My DH has been a convert to the use of the meat thermometer, marking the meat, then using indirect heat. In fact, if he doesn’t think I’m listening he’ll likely tell everyone it was all his idea. <big grin>

UPDATE: Since I wrote this post, I’ve added a few more meat types and some added instructions on the roasting and grilling chart. It’s printed out and taped inside a kitchen cupboard door so both my DH and I can refer to it very easily. In addition, I have also purchased a Splash-Proof Super-Fast Thermapen (Gray) Instant Read Thermometer, Perfect for Barbecue, Home and Professional Cooking, a very expensive tool, but we’re converts to its use in all manner of things (including cakes and breads). If Amazon doesn’t have it, you can find it on many other websites, just search for “thermapen.”

If you don’t think you’re getting just the best results from grilling or roasting, I’d recommend you begin cooking by temperature (finished) and invest in a really good thermometer for sure.

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Ever find that someone prepares a dish that combines some flavors you didn’t usually think about for that food? That’s this dish. I wouldn’t have thought of using maple syrup with pork. Often I think of sweet things – like fruit – but not maple syrup. There’s not a lot of it in this dish, 1/3 of a cup to serve 6, but the combination of that with good full-of-character aged balsamic vinegar and whole grain mustard. Ah, a great match.

This came from the pork cooking class I went to recently. I’ll definitely be making this again. And I might even increase the amount of sauce since I liked it that much, since you’ll want to serve it with some kind of carb, like rice or mashed potatoes.

Once you brown the pork tenderloin in a skillet (in the whole form), it roasts further in a hot oven. Meanwhile you use the same pan to make the maple mustard sauce, which is very easy. Just have all the ingredients ready when you start and it comes together in a hurry. I’d recommend you serve this with some kind of carb that will soak up some of the sauce, as much of it will puddle on your plate. It’s too good to leave behind. The onion, which still has some texture, gives the dish some crunch. Not raw crunch, but a bit of tooth.

The instructor talked about trichinosis in this class. I learned something else – I knew that trichinosis is not much of a concern anymore, BUT nevertheless you will want to cook the meat enough. Once pork reaches 137 degrees, you’ve killed the bug. So there’s your chemistry and biology lesson of the day.
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I made these cookies a couple of weeks ago. Our son-in-law, Todd, was still here (he’s since gone back home to his family), and he let it be known, every so subtly, that the freezer was out of cookies. Those of you who read my blog regularly know I like crisp cookies. So these wouldn’t have been something I’d make for myself. But I’ll have to admit, they’re very good. Toothsome. With just a bit of chocolate in them, and the addition of dried cherries is interesting. Good kind of interesting. The little dark items you can see in the cookies are both the dried cherries and chocolate chips. Todd took a bag of them home with him when he left last week. The recipe came from Bake or Break, a blog I read regularly. But Jennifer got the recipe from the website for Schokinag, the chocolate manufacturer.
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Last week when my friend Cherrie and I attended a cooking class in San Diego, the instructor, Phillis Carey, mentioned another recipe in the course of conversation, saying that it was one of her very favorites. That she can eat it once, twice, three times in a row, it’s so good. It was similar in style to a recipe she made at the class. My ears always perk up when I hear statements like that – a cooking instructor mentioning one of HER favorites.

Since I have Phillis’ cookbook, Fast & Fabulous Chicken Breasts (only available in and from the stores where Phillis teaches), when I got home I looked up the recipe. Since I had all the necessary ingredients, I made it for dinner. Oh my. Oh my. It was absolutely scrumptious.

It’s like the ubiquitous cream of mushroom soup, except it’s the real thing – a cream sauce with mushrooms. And bacon. And onions. And the delicious paprika in the sauce itself. Of course, the use of cream can make almost shoe leather taste good, but this is a really, really lovely preparation. I used half and half, not cream, and it seemed perfectly rich enough. And I used half-sharp paprika, which gave the sauce a bit of bite.

I know I’ve mentioned paprika here before, but if any of you are new to my blog, I’ll just mention that the paprika you buy at the grocery store (always store in the refrigerator, by the way, because it gets bugs otherwise) bears so little taste resemblance to the real thing, you’d be amazed. Buy a better paprika. Having visited Hungary and having enjoyed some of their paprika-influenced cuisine, I learned that paprika is just a wonderful flavoring agent. And coloring agent too. The pinkish tinge you see in the photo is from the paprika. What we Americans think of paprika is a very bland red powder that has virtually no flavor. But there are lots of different kinds of paprika out there, including the sharp (hotter) and half-sharp (in between), which I use regularly in my cooking. Certainly, if all you have is regular, go ahead and use it. But next time you have to buy some, get a good brand, or order it from Penzey’s, my favorite herb and spice supplier.

On to the recipe. Sorry for the detour, but I needed to get on my paprika bandwagon there. This recipe is VERY simple. Once you cut up the onion and mushrooms and gather the ingredients around you, it comes together in nothing flat. Only about 20 minutes of cooking. Hardly time to make a salad or boil some noodles or rice to serve with this.

First you flatten (pound) the chicken breasts to an even thickness, season, then brown in a bit of butter. Brown the mushrooms, then the bacon and onions, and make the cream sauce. Add everything back into the pan and cook JUST until the chicken is cooked through (so it’s still tender and moist) and serve. Cinchy. This is going onto my fix-this-often list. My DH loved it (well, he adores chicken with mushroom and cream sauce anyway). I served it with a bit of fresh zucchini on the side. I didn’t make a carb, but am sure it would wonderful with noodles, or mashed potatoes or rice.
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We  had our friends, Bud & Cherrie, over for dinner the other night, and I pulled out some old favorites to serve as part of the meal. First, I wanted to serve them some of the Kurobuta Ham that I wrote up last week. Since I’m now a big fan of the David Rosengarten specialty ham, I wanted Cherrie to taste it. I had some of the mustard sauce leftover, which I included in the post about the ham. I’d stored it in a heavy-duty glass container, so I plunked it into a pan of water and brought it up to a simmer until the sauce just warmed through and thinned out.

I made a new cauliflower dish, which I posted a day or so ago, and a big green salad with some dressing I’d made a week ago. And I had a tube of Pillsbury biscuits in the refrigerator. Now I must tell you, I don’t use package mixes or ready-made food much. In fact, very rarely! But these biscuits I’ve been making for about 35 years are an exception. I posted about them last summer, but I didn’t have a photo. Now I do. I won’t re-write the post here, but will just tell you that these are so awfully good. They’re slathered with an herb and lemon butter before baking. Cinchy easy. If you want to read the post and try them, just click on the link above. The recipe was given to my by a friend named Zelda, in Oklahoma, eons ago.

I didn’t want to make a dessert, but my standby in that department is a chocolate sauce I’ve been making also, for about 35 years, to drizzle over vanilla ice cream. It was also given to me by a friend, and even after trying at least a dozen other combinations of chocolate, cream, butter, etc. I revert to this one as my favorite. It’s made with German’s sweet chocolate, and keeps in the refrigerator for ages (you just have to reheat it whenever you want to use it). Here’s photo of that one. I posted the recipe last year HERE. It’s so very easy to make and blows away the competition, even Hershey’s Syrup, which is pretty darned good considering that it’s a bulk-produced sauce.

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This recipe requires the telling of a travel-related story. Some years ago (I’m guessing it was about 15) my DH and I went on a white-water rafting trip in Idaho. My DH was quite surprised when I mentioned the trip to him. What, he said? You WANT to go camping in the remote wilderness? I said, well, yes, because the guides do all the work, all the cooking, and we’re just there to immerse ourselves in the scenery and enjoy the food. The relaxation. The clean air.

I have fond memories of my childhood when my parents and I went camping in the High Sierras (the inland ridge of mountains that divide, almost, California from Nevada). My dad loved to fish; my mom not so much, but she enjoyed lazy days in the camp, reading magazines, a book, playing games of Scrabble (which I still love to this day). Sometimes I went fishing with my dad, but usually got bored after awhile. I had my own pole, usually a hand-me-down from my dad. We fished for trout in those cold, crisp mountain streams, seeking out the deep pools of water, near rocks, where the trout loved to hide. We tent camped, but my parents did 99% of the work, so I didn’t realize until I was an adult about how much effort was involved in setting up the camp, or cooking meals. Or doing dishes. Or laundry. Or even the packing that went on at home for a couple of weeks before the trip.

Since those days I haven’t camped much, and would prefer to do it in a camper or trailer if the option were to come up. My DH, however, has no interest in camping, even in a luxury vehicle. He likes water. The ocean, mostly. (We have a sailboat, and that’s HIS idea of camping.) But when I suggested the Idaho river-rafting trip, maybe it was the water that intrigued him. At any rate, we went, and signed up for a trip that was not only a “gourmet” trip, but a wine-tasting trip as well. Salmon River Outfitters had been written up in Gourmet. That’s all the mattered to me – if Gourmet thought it was a great trip with great food, surely we would too. And indeed we did. SRO has new owners, but I’d suspect they would have continued the tradition.

I could write up an entire post about the week-long trip itself (the wildlife, the hikes, the campsites, the conviviality of the small group, the thrill of the rapids, and even getting to the imbarkation point too) but for now I’ll just talk about the food. To say I was amazed at the food is an understatement. Here we were, out in the middle of nowhere (on the Salmon River, the South Fork, with nothing but ice chests of food and camping gear – no roads – no civilization whatsoever – no supply boat or car to deliver food to us) and the group of guides (four on our trip). We rafted the river for a couple or three hours in the mornings, then they’d spy a favorite sandy bank and our three rafts would pull in. They’d set up comfy chairs right at the riverside, bring in the potty box (which went with us on the trip from beginning to end) and set up a small secluded toilet for the group, then they’d start preparing lunch. Lunch was usually cold food – salads, sandwiches, and maybe brownies, fruit and cookies, hot coffee in thermoses from breakfast, soft drinks. We stopped long enough to enjoy more of the scenery and let our lunches settle, then we’d pile back into the rafts and off we’d go for the afternoon run. Another couple or three hours on the river, more rapids perhaps, maybe a hike into an abandoned gold rush era village, and we’d stop again for the day. They had their favorite spots. There are a few other river outfitters plying the same waters (the state mandates a limited number of rafts on the river at any time), so everyone jockeys for their favorite sites. (And, incidentally, every single minute amount of detritus we had on this trip – dirty tissues, paper towels, wrappers, was all taken along on the trip and disposed of properly – nothing, absolutely nothing – was left on the river or in campsites.)

The weather was unseasonably cold the year we went (in July), and we were very, VERY limited in what we could take with us (they had mailed us a small waterproof cloth duffle bag and everything, absolutely everything we took had to fit into this bag). We slept in sleeping bags they provided with a small 2-man tent that goes up in nothing flat. We were required to set up our own tents and if rain threatened, we needed to dig small drainage ditches around the tent. We did have rain a couple of times, so it was a good thing we dug the ditches. A couple went along on that trip from Granite Springs winery (in California gold country, and now part of Latcham winery), and every night they provided some delightful wines for all of us to enjoy before and during dinner. The meals the guides prepared were positively amazing. I don’t remember now what all they made, but they were outstanding. The guides set up a couple of small camping prep tables and two kerosene stoves, and from those limited resources, they prepared meals you’d think were from a gourmet restaurant.

So, one night, they made this pasta dish. And everyone just adored it, me included. Toward the end of the trip they told us they had a “book” they’d sell us for a fee. It contained the story of Salmon River Outfitters and some, but not all of the recipes, but the most popular ones, this pasta dish one of them. So, of course, I had to buy the book. And I’ve made this pasta numerous times since, and never fail to remember the fun we had on that river rafting trip, and how scrumptious this tasted as we sat by the burbling river, listening to the hawks, the birds, the bees, spotting eagles soaring at high elevations too.
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After Easter I must say, I didn’t cook much for several days. I was on overload, but not really because of the cooking I did. If you want to get right to the recipe, skip down to the 5th paragraph.

I bought a new computer for myself. Mine was a 7 year old XP machine, but the motherboard and RAM died. Then, within days I had to buy another computer for my DH too. His laptop was about 10 years old and slow-slow-slow. My new machine, the XPS from Dell, is just gorgeous. I’ve never used Apple, except for my ipod, but others have told me this new machine is much like an Apple. Everything is contained in the monitor, and it happens to be a media center also, so am able to watch TV on it, if I choose to. It even has its own DVR inside (that would make three in our house, and I’m the only one who uses them). No big CPU box to hide, with cables draping from every direction. I have a big (wide) monitor with amazing clarity. It’s sleek, pretty. It worked seamlessly the minute it was out of the box. But my banking software didn’t work. Because of Vista, I thought. Well, maybe not, after a 95 minute phone call to my bank’s customer service folks, then to Microsoft Money people on a conference call (who are in Mexico), which finally got resolved. Then, I bought the 2nd new computer, also a Vista machine (an HP, low level, since my DH doesn’t really spend much time at the computer). But I have to do all the work to get it running correctly, connected, with his Outlook contacts and email moved to the new machine. I managed. Vista actually has a very slick transfer program that walks you through the process. Not difficult, but it was a bit time consuming using my keychain drive and going back and forth from old machine to new machine. But before that, almost right out of the box the computer didn’t run; it was stuck in a loading loop. Only after a 65 minute phone call to HP customer service (those folks were in Argentina) did it work. Two days in a row my ear and arm hurt from holding the darned phone.

Finally, both computers are working well enough. There are still a few things left to do, but at least both new machines are functioning. My beloved MasterCook program is not working well under Vista, however, and am still trying to tweak it per instructions I found on the internet. THEN, you throw in the stress of moving my blog to this new site, and the inherent blips and valleys of it working smoothly. It’s been a very stressful couple of weeks.

So, you see why I didn’t do much cooking. My office was in a turmoil (box after box after box piled in vacant spaces on the carpeting, documentation, Styrofoam inserts, cables, plastic bags, twist ties by the bushel, cords all over everywhere), and that makes me crazy. Our son-in-law, Todd, helped me get some of the cables in the right places behind our large office/bookcase unit. He installed all new cabling outside our house a few weeks ago, so we would have better internet connectivity. Our exterior cables were very old and the connectors rusty since they lie inside the rain gutters. So, all this is probably more than you ever wanted to know about what went on in our house in the last week or so. Right?

Finally, it was time to fix a nicer meal (other than leftovers). I brought out a pork tenderloin from the freezer and used a cooking class recipe. It was from 2003, and I suspect it came from Great News in San Diego. I liked the recipe. It wasn’t a wow, but it was good.

However, one never knows when one will learn a lesson. I trusted the instructions on the recipe – to cook the pork to an internal temp of 155 to 160. I forgot to go check my chart. I’m going to write up a separate posting about my meat roasting chart. You’ll be able to print it out, but keep watching – I’ll discuss it in a day or so.

I made the lemon herb pesto and slathered it all over the roast for awhile and let it rest in the refrigerator. I inserted a meat thermometer and set it for 155. (Mistake.) I got the rest of the meal all ready, popped the roast in the oven and set the timer (the recipe said about 20 minutes). I made the sherry sauce (chicken broth and sherry reduced down to a kind of syrup), popped the leftover scalloped potatoes in the microwave. The meat thermometer started beeping early meaning it had reached 155 internal temp. Quick. Toss the dressing on the salad. My DH sliced the meat, after it had rested for about 4-5 minutes. The meat was overdone, but the flavor was good. That’s when I went to my trusty chart and sighed in dismay. Why didn’t I read it first? No wonder the meat was overdone – about medium – rather than medium rare, the way I like it. You’re supposed to cook to 150, not 155. So, I have a few cook’s notes for you this time.
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Eating an egg dish for dinner is just not something I seem to think about. It never even flits across my recipe-thinking radar. Eggs are for breakfast or brunch. Maybe, possibly, for lunch. But just not for dinner. Maybe it’s because we think we (maybe) had eggs for breakfast, and eggs are a treat these days, what with cholesterol, etc. Although what I’ve read most recently indicated that all these years we’ve been avoiding eggs was for the wrong reasons. They’re not so bad for us after all. But I buy those Omega-3 eggs, with added Vitamin E, or something. They’re supposed to be healthier for us. Less of the bad cholesterol. We don’t eat eggs for breakfast, so why not have them for dinner?

This frittata was prepared at a cooking class I went to this week. Given by one of my favorite cooking instructors, Phillis Carey. The subject for this class was pork, and ham was included in the frittata. An ideal combo – ham and cheese in an egg dish. Like ham and cheese in a sandwich, or a ham and cheese omelette.

I had most of the ingredients for this in my larder, so it was an easy decision, that we’d have this for dinner. Everybody loved it, me included. Asparagus is in season, and I think it would be just the best in this, and it’s what Phillis served in hers. I didn’t have any, but did have some sugar snap peas, and they worked just fine. Gave a little crunch to the dish, which is a good thing. I still had some of the fabulous Kurobuta Ham (I posted about it last week) that I bought for Easter, which was delicious in this dish. I still can’t rave enough about how fabulous the ham was.

• A frittata, by definition, is a bit different than an omelette. It’s an Italian omelette that frequently features filling such as meats, cheeses and vegetables. Like a French omelette, a frittata is prepared in a skillet. Where an omelette is cooked on a stovetop, a frittata is first partially cooked on a stovetop and finished under the broiler and served open faced. (mostly from Wikipedia)

I was first introduced to frittatas, a long time ago, by my Aunt Jan. She’s now gone, but she used to make a very good frittata with zucchini and cheese. I hadn’t made it in years, so the one today tasted particularly good. Phillis encouraged us to make this for a brunch. She suggested that, like the Spanish tortilla (an egg – and often potato – dish), the frittata can be served at room temperature or just warm. Ideal for a brunch. And vegetables certainly can be varied, based on your family’s likes or dislikes. Mushrooms weren’t in Phillis’ version, but several of us decided they’d be a welcome addition. And Phillis also mentioned serving this with a red pepper (bottled) – mayo sauce dolloped on top of each serving, something you could easily just mix together minutes before serving.
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Cauliflower sometimes gets short shrift. I do like it. But I don’t like it plain, steamed. It just doesn’t seem to have much going for it – to my taste buds anyway – just plain. So I enjoy trying new and different ways to make it. This recipe came from Cooking Light, June 2005. I found it online also, to somewhat mixed reviews (only two; one liked it, the other liked it but found it too much work).

Since my DH does all the dishes, usually, I don’t worry much about how many pots and pans I’m using when I cook. A nice thing when I’m in a frenzy getting dinner on the table. But this used an excessive number of pans and bowls and dishes. And it took an inordinate amount of time to make. There are several steps to it. It tasted very good. Everybody liked it (we had friends over for dinner) – in fact everyone went back for seconds. If you’re a particular lover of cauliflower, you’ll likely enjoy this dish a lot. And perhaps the amount of work involved won’t bother you much. The rest of the meal wasn’t too labor-intensive, so I didn’t mind spending more time on this.
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