Duck Prosciutto Bread

In my experimentation with the duck prosciutto, I think this is my favorite thus far. Back in the day (that's about eight years ago) I used to live in NYC, Brooklyn to be exact, and I used to get some really exemplary prosciutto bread. Maybe it was Joe's Busy Corner in Williamsburg, or perhaps it was Caputo's in Carroll Gardens, I really don't remember. But it was chewy bread, with a good crust, studded with prosciutto and cracked black pepper. (You know things are good when they're studded!) Meaty, spicy, salty and chewy bread. That's what makes a girl happy. So, when seeing the duck prosciutto in the fridge the other day, it dawned upon me that I could make prosciutto bread. I can get nice prosciutto, but if I'm laying out the cash for it, I'm having it sliced in see-through slips with nothing else (sounds dirty, doesn't it?). But the duck prosciutto? It's perfect for cubing and stuffing it into dough.

For bread,  I usually use the guidelines for the basic dough in Artisan Bread in Five Minutes a Day. I make it and leave it in the fridge in a large food-grade plastic container, and when I'm ready I can throw together a quick loaf of bread. In this case, today's bread began with a look out the window to see more snow pouring down ceaselessly. An ice storm is due tomorrow. If this meaty bread doesn't cure my winter time ennui, I don't know what will. Maybe those three boxes of wine I have down in the basement. Yes, boxes. Don't knock it!

One loaf I rolled out and sprinkled cubes of prosciutto over it, adding fresh ground black pepper. Then I rolled it back up and pinched the ends. The other one was more focaccia-style. The rolled one steamed the meat, and made the inside all nice and duck-fatty. The focaccia one made the duck get all crispy crackly on the top. I really think the best way to approach would be to start with a new batch of bread, so that when incorporating the flour, you can add the prosciutto, so that the meat and dough cling to each other. But this is certainly not a bad place to start.

Duck Prosciutto

This post is my first installment of the meaty, year-long extravaganza called Charcutepalooza, co-created by the amazingly dedicated and hard-working Cathy Barrow of Mrs. Wheelbarrow and Kim Foster of the Yummy Mummy. There will be monthly postings by over a hundred bloggers on curing, smoking and salting all following recipes from the wonderful book Charcuterie by Michael Ruhlman and Brian Polcyn. Check out the Facebook page for Charcutepalooza and see what others are up to!

I already told myself that this would be the year that I would focus on preserving meat and making cheese, and it looks like I'm certainly not alone in this endeavor. About 90% of the meat our family eats is locally-sourced. And we've worked really hard at cutting down the meat consumption, both in portion size and how many times a week we eat it. Where I live in the Hudson Valley of New York, I find it's been really simple to source great local meat. Fleisher's in Kingston, the Hudson Valley Food Network's Split and Share discussion group, and wonderful farmers and their markets every week have made it easy for me to have amazing quality local meat. (Sadly, due to where I live I can't join the Charcuterie CSA at The Piggery, based in Ithaca, with CSA drop-offs in NYC). 

However, the real reason I want to make charcuterie is because I love it. Like, a lot. I have many fond memories of standing on a chair with an apron wrapped around me twice, the gunmetal-colored meat grinder attached to the sink, a bowl beneath, watching, mesmerized by the meat being forced out the holes. (Best play-doh ever!) My parents always ground their own meat, and made sausages. We always had casings in the fridge. I love this stuff. It's in my blood. Last year I made bacon and gravlax, both amazingly delicious. And let's not forget the cost in purchasing charcuterie. So there you have it. The motivation is there. But sometimes even then I need a little kick in the pants.

Bresaola and duck prosciutto in Peter's kitchen.

Rewind. Back in June, I had the good fortune to attend a meat curing class taught by Peter at cookblog. Aside from learning something every time I read his blog, Peter also writes a great column in the local magazine Chronogram. I was totally excited to be in his gorgeous new kitchen (that he built) among a group of like-minded folks learning about curing whole-muscle cuts. My brain sort of short-circuited when I tasted some of the lovely things he served us, like the duck prosciutto and amazing bread (made by a friend of his, if I recall correctly) or the miso-cured bacon we gorged on at the end of the class. There was a good deal of eye rolling going on, and not in the sarcastic way. In the oh-my-god-did-I-just-eat-some-salty-heaven?? kind of way.

That bacon was dangerously good.

Like the good-natured dork I am, I asked the group (was I on a salt high?) "Who's going right home and making this stuff??" And everyone looked at me like wha? So, yeah, I didn't go right home and make the five things we learned, but I have an excuse. Did you happen to notice what kind of summer it was in my area? Probably not, but it was HOT. So hot that having hanging meat around was probably not the best thing in the world. Add that to the canning frenzy I was in, and I was a goner from the get go. But now it's winter, and I'm ready to make and eat some salty meat. So.

Salt - a player.

A few notes about making the prosciutto itself. First off, do you know Cooking Light has a recipe for this online? I was sort of surprised! It's basically just salt and duck, and some pepper or what have you. I chose black pepper instead of white pepper (um, didn't have white pepper...). I sort of timed this wrong by making it on New Year's Eve while busily preparing for the evening. No cheesecloth? No problem, I used an old linen. (I never buy cheesecloth; instead I use old, worn (clean) linens instead.) I hung them in the basement. Our basement in that corner is consistently 60 degrees. I'm not positive about the humidity, but I'm guessing it's about 60%. I based that on using our de-humidifier to roughly guess. So, I think it's okay barring the two little windows which let in a bit of light. I might need to shade them off if I do any more hanging of meat. (My fig tree is in that area, and it was supposed to be dormant but I just found a shoot coming off of it!)

One of the things I learned was the importance of weighing the meat before you hang it, as you can judge when your meat is done by how much weight it lost during the hanging. You want to look for a 30% weight loss. I didn't weigh the breasts until they were already hanging for two days. And I'll be honest, I'm not too scientific. I pulled them a week and two days after they were hung, and I thought they felt good (not too hard, not too soft). Once unwrapped the outside seemed like it was getting a little "jerked." Once sliced the inside was garnet, and I felt maybe a hair too pink. I think it was done though, and chose not to rehang them and risk drying them too much. I'm still wondering if I pulled them too soon; I've been known to do that. A day in the fridge has toughened them and made them darker. It tastes outrageously good, duck-y, prosciutto-y, and rich. Ta da!

A little bit of jerkification on the fat-less side.

I don't have a recipe with which to showcase this, though I'm sure I'll just invite some friends over and eat it up, tout suite. Maybe with a champagne cocktail with elderberry syrup in it. Or in a risotto. That sounds just perfect.

Baked Sweet Potato Fries

I actually saw another blog had posted about this today, and I know this isn't anything original, but did you know that baked sweet potato fries are the bomb in early spring? Peeled and sliced like fries, tossed in olive oil on a baking tray, seasoned with salt and pepper, and put in a 400 degree oven for about thirty minutes. Make sure to flip them once or twice so all the sides get baked. These hit the spot for both adults and little babies. Well, maybe not little babies. Toddlers who eat everything in their path, like the kind I have. And paired with some steaks on the grill (from Cedar Hill Farms in Amenia), caramelized onions doused with pomegranate vinegar, and some horseradish cream to dip the fries in, that is what I call "being in business." Isn't it disgusting that I even put a pat of butter on the steak? I guess I was thinking I was in Peter Luger's or something, excepting the service was super attentive. Not that I don't appreciate a surly waiter. I do. I was one once!

Beef Kofta Curry

I spend a good amount of time looking for deals on Craigslist. I really like the Farm and Garden section. I also love the Free section; it's hilarious and sometimes rewarding. I'm always looking for one thing or another. Or waiting for something to find me. A lot of the time it doesn't pan out. But you've got to keep on looking. The other day I saw an ad for local grass-fed grass-finished Black Angus beef that was an incredible deal. One of the things that I find most expensive in trying to keep to a more local diet is meat. There are ways around that. One is to obviously eat less meat. And another is to be more creative in seeking it out.

I connected with Eric Eschbach of Cedar Hill Farms in Amenia, NY. His farm is a good hour from where I live and he graciously offered to meet me half way. I rustled up some friends to make an order that was worth his while. We met in a parking lot of a library. Now, doesn't that seem incredible? Eric is an utterly respectable person, who is working constantly to create a great product. He had a lot of interesting information that I would have liked to learn about meat, how it's processed and the rules and regulations surrounding it all, but I had a wiggly toddler to chase after. It doesn't lend to thoughtful conversation, unfortunately. However, I was thrilled with the transaction, and I intend to visit his farm stand in the summer time, where he sells vegetables as well, and get a lay of the land he works.I came home with a cooler full of meat and a feeling of intense satisfaction.

My first meal was with the ground beef, and I used a recipe with which I took some crazy liberties. Ellie, of Almost Bourdain, does some amazing stuff. All of her elegant food is photographed perfectly---you always want to just sit right down, and tuck in to whatever it is that she is making. There is no pretension, and her writing is thoughtful and often from the heart. And, her precision and attention to detail is pretty much the exact opposite of how I roll. So, although I ogle her site I often think: I'll never make that. (Which is how I feel when I read a lot of blogs, come to think of it.) But, the other day there was this recipe for Beef Kofta Curry that seemed level to my playing field so I affectionately butchered it and in doing so probably took it down ten notches on the superlative stick, but still, it was delicious. In the original recipe it is served with pasta, but I did wild rice.

It's not that I'm lazy, it's just that I don't have the time (miniature violins, please) to attend to much else but the little toddler that keeps me busy all day. Which is just fine. In a few years I'll have plenty of time. I'm sure I'll miss making crock pot meals and cheesy pasta. Even making meatballs took a little precious time. So, in that vein of laziness, I'm not even going to write my version of the recipe, because really, why bother? Visit Ellie's blog and check it out. It's a simple recipe to begin with, I just amended it for what I had. There are a billion spices in this recipe! And I didn't have all of them. But that's okay. That's what cooking is about for me. Getting close. Helping things along. When you have really good local beef, that's a great start, isn't it?

Greek Roasted Lamb and Potatoes

A couple of years ago (okay, more than a couple, but hey, who's counting?) I had the extreme good luck to get a New Year's visit from my friends Eve and Adam. Eve is an incredibly talented and intuitive cook who I've learned tons from. I often wish she'd start a blog cataloguing what she eats, because it's always the best stuff. She has turned me on to so many great things, from Hog Island oysters to Seattle's finest Dan Dan Noodles. When I lived with her in Oakland, Ca., she would take me everywhere. This was her home turf. I was a New Yorker, new to the Bay Area. Her curiosity and unrelenting spirit for all things good is unparalleled. Wine and cheese, falafels stuffed with french fries, Walnut Grove's best burger joint, the Cheese Board, Berkeley Bowl and Berkeley farmer's markets are just some things that come to mind from the distant past. A few years after the Greek New Year's we had, they visited again. This time Eve packed her suitcase to fly across the country with the most incredible oysters I've ever had, Totten Virginicas. I mean, need I say more?

Back then on that New Year's Day, Eve showed me how to make a Greek New Year's Day meal. I wish I had documentation from that day so long ago, but all I have are some scattered doodles on notecards. I'm sure I've lost some nuances but I'm never disappointed, so I'm doing something right. Right now I'm nursing the first of the year's colds, so I won't go into detail, but we had a lovely local lamb roast, with lemon potatoes, creamy tzatziki, and feta. This is somewhat truncated (what? no olives??) but we relished it nonetheless.

Thanks, Eve! And, Chronia Polla!

Short Ribs Braised in Wine with Mashed Potatoes

Let me start off by saying that photographing food is extremely hard, and this photo illustrates that sentiment. Especially meat with some dark gravy. It just looks awful. Meat must be the hardest thing to photograph. Have you ever seen those new-ish meat print ads that say something like, "Welcome to the Land of Beef," and it's a landscape, a diorama, if you will, made of a large cut of beef with gravy as the sea around it. It's disgusting. That said, this meal was very far from disgusting. The first braised meat of the season the day before autumn was officially here. It's a welcome taste.

Braised meat is incredibly easy as long as you have the time to let it do its business in the oven. All I did was brown the meat in a sturdy dutch oven, then removed it to make room for sauteing red onions, then carrots. Then two cups of red wine to deglaze. Slowly added two cups chicken stock. Returned the ribs to the mix, arranging them just so, covered the whole shebang and stuck it in a 325 degree oven for 2-3 hours. Voila, you are done. I mashed potatoes with skin on, some butter and yogurt, salt and pepper.

Welcome, to the land of beef!