Ham Hock with Potatoes and Apples

The proud Hock o' Ham

What was I saying about "proteins with stuff"? Well, this certainly qualifies. Actually, this recipe alone could be the reason why I still call myself a proud meat-eater. Apart from the fact that this dish takes forever to make (no last minute weeknight dinners here), this dish has little to complain about.

The featured meat is what is usually termed in my world a ham hock, but is to the Brits apparently a pork knuckle. Who knew? Anyway, it's one of the cheaper cuts of meat around and just one of these puppies will easily feed three people. You have to make sure to get the uncured kind for this recipe. This took a bit of searching for me, but it will let the flavors of the caraway seeds and garlic really shine through. Nothing, however, will explode if you can't find one and must use a cured one instead. Such is life, right?

This recipe combines all things British and American in my mind. A ham hock will quintessentially be Yankee fare, but the "roasting" element of this recipe does waver towards the British side of things. It also (as a bonus) features a make-your-own-pork-crackling element. Well, if I wasn't sold before...

Nigella Lawson, also, the reigning sultry queen of the British kitchen must be thanked for this recipe. Oh Nigella, the things you do for us. All while wearing revealing clothing.

Ingredients

2 tsp sea salt flakes (or 1 tsp pouring salt)

1 tsp caraway seeds

2 garlic cloves, crushed or grated

2 pork knuckles (also called hocks), rind scored

2 onions, peeled and sliced into rounds

2 eating apples, cored and quartered

4 baking potatoes (or 1kg/1lb 2oz other main-crop potatoes), cut into quarters lengthways

500ml/17fl oz good-quality amber or dark beer (not stout, I used Wychwood amber beer)

500ml/17fl oz boiling water

Method

Preheat the oven to 220C/425F/Gas 7. Put the salt and caraway seeds into a bowl, add the minced or grated garlic, and mix everything together. Rub the pork knuckles with this mixture, getting right into the slits in the scored rind.

Make a bed or platform of the onion slices in the bottom of a deep-sided roasting tin. Sit the pork hocks on this onion layer and cook them in the hot oven for 30 minutes.

Take the tin out of the oven and quickly arrange the apples and potatoes around the pork knuckles. Carefully pour over 250ml/9fl oz of the beer, aiming for the pork knuckles so they’re basted as the liquid is poured into the tin. Return the tin to the oven, turning this down to 170C/325F/Gas 3. Continue to cook at this lower temperature for two hours.

Turn the oven up again to 220C/425F/Gas 7, pour the rest of the beer over the pork knuckles, and continue to cook at the higher temperature for another 30 minutes.

Take the tin out of the oven and transfer the apples and potatoes to a warmed dish. Lift the hocks onto a carving board, leaving the onion and juices in the tin.

Put the tin on the hob over a medium heat and add the boiling water, scraping any burned onions up from the bottom of the tin using a wooden spoon to de-glaze the tin and make a gravy.

Meanwhile, take the crackling off the pork knuckles and break it into pieces. Pull apart or carve the meat and pile it onto plates with the apples and potatoes. Pour over the gravy and serve with some German mustard.

Four-Spice Salmon

I'm all about easy proteins right now. A full day at work doesn't inspire the kinds of long-simmering stews and fussy pastry that were getting my appetite going during the winter months. I usually shy away from the "meat with stuff on it" preparation method, but in recent weeks I've been won over to the cause. A pork tenderloin with a bit of mustard and oil on it can be delicious and the same goes for a spice-rubbed salmon. Dishes that can be made in the space of 10 minutes flat and you have yourself a hearty main dish.

Thus it was that I tried Bittman's Four-Spice Salmon, something he insists is the best thing ever. I had not had spice-rubbed anything in recent memory so I was keen to give it a try. The dish gets absolute points for ease in preparation but, while I gleaned over his wordy paragraphs about the need to grind your own spices and harvesting your own local fillet from the salmon farm down the street, I realized that in this case, he may have been right.

This dish needs oomph. Ooomph it does not get from pre-ground spices and Tesco-brand salmon. Believe me, the flavors are there, hidden in the background. You know that there's potential for spicy extravagance as you bite into your fillet.

But it needs a kick, and unless you can do the aforementioned grinding and harvesting, my solution to this problem is to nudge the spiciness quotient up a notch. I suggest some chili flakes or powder, just to add a bit of heat to the dish. It doesn't mask the other delicious combination of flavors of the spice rub, but if you, like me, are stuck with brand X spices, this may bring out a tad more flavor in the dish than otherwise.

Having done that, the dish is an absolute win. A main course that is not your standard boring salmon fillet "with stuff on it". It's a beauty. One I will be using again.

Ingredients

4 6-ounce, skinned salmon fillets
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
1 tablespoon coriander seeds or ground coriander
1/4 teaspoon whole or ground cloves
1 1/2 teaspoons cumin seed or ground cumin
1 teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg
1 tsp chili flakes or power (or to your taste)
2 tablespoons peanut oil, grape seed or other neutral oil, or clarified butter

Method

Season fillets on both sides with salt and pepper. If necessary, combine spices and grind them to a coarse powder in a coffee or spice grinder. Press some of the mixture onto the top of each fillet.

Preheat a large nonstick skillet over medium-high heat for 2 to 3 minutes. Add the oil or butter and, when it shimmers, place the fillets, coated side down, in the pan. Cook about 2 to 3 minutes, or until the spice mixture forms a nicely browned crust.

Turn the fillets and cook for another 2 to 3 minutes, or until the salmon just slightly resists when pierced with a thin-bladed knife.

Skillet-Baked Asparagus and Eggs

It took me some time to get on the asparagus bandwagon. In Arizona, where seasons are practically non-existent (unless you count hot and, well, hotter), one doesn't grow up with the amazing produce which summer is associated with in most of the rest of the world.
While our plants and trees withered and died in the ever-increasing temperatures of May, June, and July, the rest of the world was feasting on summer produce. So I never realized just how thankful you can be, after the dregs of winter (what, another butternut squash dish?), that you now have an entirely different and varied repertoire of vegetables to play with in terms of cooking.

And thus, asparagus. The summer vegetable loathed by children the world over. I was no different. They looked like trees and if you overcooked them, well, they were a mushy mess. No. Thank. You.

But, done right, they're amazing. I mean, really amazing. And paired with eggs? Game over. I'm not sure what it is about the two that make them perfect for each other, but you can literally put almost any egg dish with a properly roasted asparagus or two, and you have perfection on a plate. Trust me, the NY Times devoted an entire article to it. It's that good.

And thus I present skillet-baked asparagus and eggs. If I hadn't sold this meal enough on just the virtues of asparagus and eggs alone, this is also a one pot dish. Roast asparagus. Add eggs (and a touch of cream). Stick in oven. Eat. Simple as pie.

Ingredients

3 tablespoons olive oil, more for drizzling
3/4 pounds asparagus trimmed and cut into 1/2-inch pieces
2 scallions, white and light green parts, thinly sliced
8 large eggs
6 tablespoons roughly chopped soft herbs like basil, cilantro, chives or parsley (use at least 2, I used basil, cilantro, and parsley, which was an absolute win: don't hesitate to add the herbs liberally.)
1/3 cup heavy cream
2 tablespoons grated Parmesan
Salt and black pepper, to taste
Lemon wedges, for serving
Flaky sea salt for sprinkling.

Method

Heat the oven to 300 degrees. In a large skillet over medium heat, warm the olive oil until shimmering. Add the asparagus and the scallions and cook for 5 minutes, stirring occasionally, until asparagus is browned and tender.

Whisk together the eggs, 4 tablespoons of the herbs, and cream. Whisk in Parmesan, salt and pepper. Pour the egg mixture over asparagus and place the skillet in the oven.

Bake for about 17- 20 minutes, until set, but still slightly jiggly in the center. Cool in the pan for about 10 minutes before serving. It is best warm, not hot.

Squeeze one or two lemon wedges over it, drizzle with olive oil, and sprinkle with flaky sea salt and remaining herbs. Cut into wedges.

Yield: 4 servings.

Sugar Snap Pea and Cucumber Salad

Summer means salads. As the sun doesn't set now until at least 9pm, it means that dinner is a much more relaxed affair, taken in the conservatory, and made while listening to the music of the ice cream truck go tootling by.
Ah yes, summer.
And salads.
In a perfect world, I would say that all the ingredients for this salad come straight from my garden (including walnuts from my generations-old walnut tree). Alas, my "garden" in this case is the friendly neighborhood Tesco but the turn of the seasons means that sugar snap peas, asparagus, and all the glories of summer produce are at my beck and corporate call.

I was looking for a perfect side salad to go with some hearty protein-y main course, but in the end, this little number became the star of the show. Blanching the peas is by far the hardest part of this dish (and in and of itself doesn't take more than 10 minutes) and you end up with the freshest "summeriest" salad you could hope for. Protein was forgotten instantly as my roommate and I munched on this salad for days.

The other great thing about this salad is that it's light on the oil. The dressing contains barely a tablespoon, helped out by some added water/chicken broth. I thought I'd be able to taste the difference, but the dill, lemon juice, and cayenne go a long way with these vegetables, and you don't end up with a cloying dressing.

I also added in some extra cayenne, dill, and walnuts to boost the flavor. We're all about bold flavors in our house, but tone down the spice if you really want the fresh veggie taste to come shining through.

Active Time: 30 min
Total Time: 30 min

Ingredients
1 pound sugar snap peas, trimmed
2 tablespoons chopped walnuts, toasted
1 tablespoon fat-free chicken broth or water
2 tablespoons walnut oil
1 1/2 teaspoons fresh lemon juice
1/2 teaspoon cayenne
1 tablespoon chopped fresh dill
1 English cucumber, halved lengthwise and cut crosswise into 1/4-inch-thick slices

Method

Have ready a bowl of ice and cold water. Cook peas in a large saucepan of boiling salted water until bright green and crisp-tender, about 2 minutes. Drain and immediately transfer to ice water. When cold, drain well and pat dry.

Mash walnuts to a paste with a mortar and pestle and whisk in broth, oil, lemon juice, cayenne, and dill until blended. Season with salt and pepper. Toss walnut mixture with peas and cucumber until vegetables are coated.

Nutritional Info: Each serving has about 59 calories and 3 grams fat.

Asparagus with Scallops and Black Beans

Well, it's official. It's asparagus season. Now you can't move for the green stalks of veggie delight. Unlike so many other items that you can now buy 12 months out of the year, I think asparagus has retained its hold as the fleeting food of summer. Like strawberries, you have to appreciate it while it's here, for it before you know, it'll be gone. 

So in honor of summer (well, late spring) and the joys of warmer weather, I decided to invest in the asparagus craze. As it is such a fleeting food, I've never felt comfortable cooking it. Asparagus is notoriously easy to overcook and there is the ever-increasing threat that you might end up with limp, bland stalks, at which any self-respecting 10 year old would balk. Keeping them nice and crisp is always a challenge. But, as always, Bittman to the rescue. Stir-fried with black beans and scallops, this recipe took about 10 minutes to do and was a perfect way to usher in spring. 

I thought, living in a multi-cultural hub of activity, buying the fermented black beans would be a piece of cake. On my road there are no less than four different Asian groceries. And so, heart in hand, I went off to each one, asking about the ingredient. No luck. No one seemed to have the faintest idea what I was talking about. In one store I was cautiously show the "beans" aisle, which indeed have black beans, but in the most standard dried variety. I felt absurd asking the kind and obliging shopkeeper (whose English was about at the same level as my Mandarin) if they had any beans that were..."Well, you know, fermented. Old. Do you have any old beans?"

No, silly woman. Why would we have old beans?

Sigh. There was no way of explaining this. I had a sneaking suspicion that the item that I was looking for was the equivalent of butter or sugar in an Asian market and was sitting front and center on the shelves. But no matter how I tried explaining it, I just ended up looking more ridiculous in front of the shopkeeper who was probably wondering why this bizarre American wanted "old beans" from his shop.

So I left. And marched straight into Tesco and, with a heavy heart, bought some "Asian black bean stir-fry sauce", which proudly proclaimed on the package to have "real pan-Asian flavors". 

Fabulous.

The moral of this story? If you either a) know Mandarin or b) have a reputable fermented black bean source, have a blast with the original version of this recipe. I was forced down the stir fry sauce road with this one, but I can't *really* complain, as the dish turned out to be delicious anyway.
Ah well, time to brush up on those language skills...

Ingredients
1 1/2 lbs of asparagus
2 tbsp toasted sesame oil
1 tbsp fermented black beans (or, see story above, 3 tbsp black bean stir fry sauce)
3 tbsp white wine
1 tbsp minced garlic
2 tbsp soy sauce
2 tbsp water
1/2-1 lb scallops
Optional: Chopped chives and/or toasted nori (seaweed)

Method
Heat 2 tbsp sesame oil in a large pan. Soak 1 tablespoon fermented black beans in sake or white wine to cover while pan heats (or simply combined the stir fry sauce with the white wine). Add asparagus and minced garlic. Cook until the asparagus looks dry and is starting to brown. Combine soy sauce with water and add to pan.  Add black beans and 1/2 pound sliced or cubed scallops to pan along with soy sauce and water. Cook for about five minutes or until the asparagus is still firm to the touch but tender.
Garnish: Chopped chives and/or toasted nori.