Flashback Friday - Ribs and Dry Rubs

This flashback only goes back to early last year, but it's a post on ribs and dry rubs, and since tomorrow is the Fourth of July, I thought it could be appropriate. Last minute, but appropriate.

Happy Fourth!

This post was originally published on  February 28, 2014.
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Ribs and Dry Rubs

Some time ago, oh, 20-odd years or so, I took a long overnight drive with a couple of friends. After 16 hours of No-Doz and coffee, griping, bitching, and desperately trying to keep one of us (not me) from popping a Dylan tape into the cassette deck, we found ourselves at our destination--Chicago. There, after a much-needed nap, we indulged in some of the things the Windy City is most famous for: Cubs baseball, Chicago dogs, blues music, and barbecue.

One of our evening excursions during our stay involved both blues and barbecue. As this was long before teh Innernets, I'm not sure how we discovered that a restaurant called Brother Jimmy's had both the ribs we were craving and live music, but we found the joint and paid it a visit. The place was packed, but we squeezed into three seats and ordered a bunch of food. We decided to try every type of ribs they offered, and that included their sauce-less dry rub ribs. Now, this was back before my palate was used to eating spicy food on a regular basis, and I could swear that my nose hairs were singed a bit when I lifted one of those dry rub ribs to my lips. They were incendiary, at least to us, but they were so good. I think I ate the majority of them, even though my mouth went numb after the second one.

I've eaten a lot of ribs since then. Heck, I've cooked a lot of ribs since then. I use Alton Brown's method of steaming the meat in foil with a bit of liquid before putting them under the broiler (or on the grill) to char with a little sweet sauce. The ribs are moist and succulent that way, but much of the dry rub seems to wash off, leaving them on the bland side. I decided to change the method a bit to see if I could keep the rub from coming off yet cook the meat in the same way.

The first step: make a dry rub. I usually just toss some seasonings with kosher salt and brown sugar (I do not use Alton's recipe--it is outrageously salty). This time, I wanted to achieve some nice heat, so I piled on the chiles.

The second step: cut back on the liquid used for steaming the ribs. Alton puts his ribs into little foil packets with a half cup of liquid in each. I used a scant quarter cup. The ribs still were very tender, but the liquid didn't wash off the spice. Remember--while the ribs are cooking, they produce still more liquid, so they really don't need all that much to start with.

While these ribs weren't nearly as spicy as the dry rub ribs from Brother Jimmy's, and I did coat them with a sauce later, I think they were some of the best ribs I've made to date.

Spicy Ribs

1 rack of St Louis-style or baby back ribs

For the dry rub:
3/4 cup brown sugar
4 teaspoons kosher salt
1 tablespoon paprika
2-3 teaspoons ground chipotle powder
2 teaspoons onion powder
1 teaspoon garlic powder
1-2 teaspoons ground pasilla negro
1/2 teaspoon allspice
1/2 teaspoon ground black pepper
1/4-1/2 teaspoon cayenne pepper
1/4 teaspoon dried thyme

For the glaze:
3 tablespoons reserved dry rub
1/4 cup ketchup
2 tablespoons cider vinegar
4 tablespoons honey

To make the rub: Combine all ingredients in a bowl. Reserve three tablespoons for glaze.

Place a sheet of aluminum foil on a large rimmed baking sheet and set close by.

If you're using a slab of St Louis-style ribs, cut the slab into three pieces. Tear three large sheets of heavy-duty aluminum foil, each large enough to hold one of the slabs. Place the sheets, one on top of the other, on the counter in front of you, horizontally. Place one slab of ribs on the top sheet; coat the top and bottom of the ribs liberally with rub, pressing it into the meat. Take the top and bottom edges of the foil and bring them together like a tent. Fold the edges together and roll them down towards the meat to make a package. Roll the open sides of the package up toward the center to seal all sides. Repeat with other two slabs of ribs. Place all three wrapped packages on the prepared baking sheet.

(If you're using baby backs, leave them whole and use only one large sheet of aluminum foil.)

Refrigerate ribs for 6 hours or overnight.

To make the glaze: Place all ingredients in a small saucepan. Heat until warm, stirring to combine. Remove from heat and set aside. Refrigerate until ready to use.

To cook the ribs: Preheat oven to 300°F.

Gently unroll one short end on each package. Pour in a scant quarter cup of liquid of your choice--apple juice, Dr Pepper, water, whatever as long as it's not alcohol (you don't want to tempt a fire)--and re-roll the end. Keeping the packets on the rimmed baking sheet, put the whole thing into the oven.

Cook 1 1/2 - 2 hours, until meat is fork tender.

Remove tray from oven and turn on the broiler. Gently unroll one end of each package and pour out the liquid. Cut ribs into two-rib pieces. Place the ribs on a foil-lined baking sheet and brush the top side liberally with the glaze. Broil for 5-8 minutes, until sauce is bubbling and charred in spots. Turn meat, brush with more glaze, and repeat broiling.

Serve with wetnaps.



Posted on Minxeats.com.

Minty Pea Pesto with Risotto

We got two pounds of organic sugar snap peas in our farm box not long ago, which is a lot of peas. I suggested that Mr Minx make a cold salad with some of them because I really prefer my sugar snaps raw. He brilliantly threw together the peas, roughly chopped, some cucumber, and tons of mint, with a Asian-style dressing. Wow. It was so good! Sweet, crunchy, refreshing. I really loved the combo of mint and peas and decided that it would make a fine pesto-type concoction. So on the weekend, I cleaned the other pound of peas, picked some of our proliferating mint, and dug a handful of pistachios out of a bag of deluxe unsalted mixed nuts. No cheese, no garlic. I just want to taste the peas and mint, with a little earthy nuttiness for balance.

So what to do with what ended up being a pinto of pesto?

I decided to stir it into a risotto. I planned to make the risotto for dinner on one night, then to  make fried chicken (my first time) on the other. But then I was lured away from the kitchen by a soft shell crab po' boy and had to make both the risotto and fried chicken on the same day. I didn't want to stir risotto while a freakishly hot cast iron skillet full of grease and chicken parts bubbled away like a witch's cauldron  mere inches away. One, I figured I would do something stupid and burn myself, and two, it was already too hot and humid outside. Didn't need the kitchen to feel the same way.

So I thought I maybe could try making a risotto in the rice cooker. I Googled it, and found that Wolfgang Puck said it was ok. And so it was. It was as good as my non-rice-cooker risotto, which is occasionally very good but most often only decent. In any case, it certainly helped keep the kitchen cool and allowed me to avoid the scary two-pan scenario.

You can certainly make risotto the old-fashioned way and stir the pesto in afterward. Up to you.

Rice Cooker Risotto with Minty Pea Pesto

For the pesto:
1 lb sugar snap peas
1/4 cup shelled unsalted pistachios
1/2 cup packed mint leaves
Extra virgin olive oil
Kosher salt to taste

For the risotto:
2 cups (the ones that come with your rice cooker) Arborio rice, rinsed and drained
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 cup chicken or veg broth
Freshly ground pepper
Freshly grated Parmesan

To make the pesto: Remove stems and strings from peas. Open several of them and reserve the peas for garnish. Put the rest in a food processor with the pistachios and mint. Add enough olive oil to allow you to puree the peas, nuts, and mint into a chunky paste. Season with kosher salt and refrigerate in a tightly covered container until ready to use.

To make the risotto: Put the rice in the rice cooker and fill the bowl with water to between the 1 and 2 marks and add the salt. Cook rice for 20 minutes, then turn to the "keep warm" setting.

Open the rice cooker and pour in the chicken broth, stirring vigorously. The rice should be creamy. Season with pepper, adding more salt if necessary.

Stir several tablespoons of the pesto into the risotto. Scrape into a serving bowl and top with the reserved peas and some Parmesan. Garnish with mint, if desired.

**You'll have tons of pesto left over to smear on fish or chicken or whathaveyou. It's great with ricotta on thickly sliced, lightly-toasted, country-style bread, too.



Posted on Minxeats.com.

Cyrus Keefer @ 13.5% Wine Bar

Although we'd written about Hampden's 13.5% Wine Bar not all that long ago, we felt we had to visit and write again, now that Cyrus Keefer was running the kitchen. We knew Cyrus from his delicious work at Fork & Wrench, and we supported his efforts to open his own Hampden restaurant, Pique. That didn't pan out, but we're happy that he did end up in the neighborhood. He's doing his own thing at 13.5% which means clever techniques and lots of big flavors with a touch of Asia here and there.

We started out with a dish of crispy brussels sprouts that had been given a Mediterranean flavor treatment. The sprouts had been fried to a dark brown, but they were somehow still fairly light in texture, and served with chopped cucumber, pine nuts, grapes, oregano, lemon peel, and feta cheese. It was one of the more unusual brussels sprouts preparations in a town full of brussels sprouts preparations. We loved the textures and the pop of sweetness from the grapes.

We also tried the lamb meatballs, which were delicate and very juicy. They also came on a flaming hot plate that the runner did not warn us about. Consequently, I burned my fingers moving the plate because my OCD needs everything to be centered if it can be centered. So, you are forewarned. However, the balls were great and we could have eaten more.

Because we're piggy like that, we also ordered the pork belly spring rolls. The tender pork was bound with shrimp puree, which gave the rolls a briny fragrance and a dense meaty texture. They weren't much to look at (hence no photo), but they were lovely in flavor and had a nice crispy texture.

For his entree, Mr Minx enjoyed the squid bolognese, which was both expected and unexpected. Expected in that it was a straight-up sort of tomatoey bolognese sauce, unexpected in that the pasta was a tagliatelle made with squid ink. The dish was topped with a tangle of barely-cooked squid that had been cut to mimic the shape of the pasta. Mr Minx dispatched it post haste (after sharing a few bites with me).

I also liked my dish, a "congee" made with barley and creamed corn, topped with a wonderfully meaty soft shell crab, and fried mushrooms. The creamy and crunchy textures plus the flavors of land and sea were a delight to my palate. My only issue with the dish is that it had a few too many chili threads on top. They're fine, flavor wise, but not necessarily texturally.

Photo credit: someone at 13.5% Wine Bar. My pic was horribly blurry, so I swiped this one from FB.

I have been eating a lot of soft shell crabs recently, because it's the season and because I usually feel deprived of them. Cyrus' version was one of my top 5 ever. It didn't hurt that they were the plumpest, meatiest, crabs I've encountered.

We didn't order dessert, but the three or four on the menu looked like they had potential. Next time. And next time we'll be sure to get octopus (Cyrus does wonderful things with the cephalopod) and I am curious about his taken on ramen as well.

13.5% has just revamped their front, opening it up wide and adding outdoor seating. The extra light and warmth should be popular now that summer is finally here.



Posted on Minxeats.com.

Flashback Friday - Morimoto

This post was originally published on July 26, 2007.
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Morimoto

When presented with an opportunity to go to Philadelphia, I immediately jumped on the idea of eating at Morimoto. DH and I have long watched Iron Chef, both the original Japanese and current American versions. Although we usually think the food Masaharu Morimoto concocts seems a bit weird (and in some cases, possibly inedible), we've wanted to try his restaurant for years now.

On Tuesday the 24th, after an afternoon of King Tut and friends at the Franklin Institute, we entered our long-awaited Chestnut Street destination. The lime green glass doors revealed a long, high-ceilinged room with undulating patterns on the walls and light-filled Lucite booths that changed color. The place was nearly full and extremely noisy, as techno music from the sound system did battle with diners who yelled to be heard over the din. A particularly noisy party of six was unfortunately seated at the booth next to ours, and all evening long we were subjected to the wincingly-loud kookaburra-like laugh of one of the women who was trying entirely too hard to impress her date.

A shot of the sculpted wall, the booth in a blue mood, and the noisy woman, caught uncharacteristically with her mouth (and eyes, heh) closed.

Hubs and I, after about 30 seconds of discussion, went for the omakase option. There were $80, $100, and $120 price points, the difference being in the exoticness of the ingredients rather than the number of courses. For comparison's sake, we chose to order an $80 and a $100 version. Our friend Kate, not being a fan of raw fish, went for a more conventional appetizer/entree approach.

First up for her was the "10-Hour Pork 'Kakuni'" - a dish of rice porridge, or congee topped with a chunk of braised pork belly. Unfortunately I didn't get a photo of it before she dug in, and the after photo wasn't nearly as appetizing, so I'll spare you that. The pork was tender and juicy, and the congee was well-flavored and not as bland as versions I've had in the past. It was a oddly haute-Asian version of comfort-food, and possibly a perfect lunch for a chilly autumn day.

For her entree, Kate chose the seafood tobanyaki:

It came in a vented, celadon-lidded, clay pot that emanated a fantastic aroma. Inside was a bounty of seafood in a citrus-soy butter: New Zealand green-lipped mussels; large scallops; snow crab legs; shrimp; plus oyster mushrooms and baby bok choy. Everything was perfectly cooked. I particularly enjoyed morsels of crab and scallop. Kate enjoyed it all.

As for the omakase...some courses were different, some were similar or identical. All were delicious.

First up: Hamachi Tartare - crispy shallots, caviar, fresh wasabi, soy broth
The tartare was a marvel of textures and flavors. The slightly cold and bland hamachi was finely chopped (by that famous Morimoto "double-barreled chopping action" done with two cleavers perhaps?) and blended with crispy shallots. Molded into a timbale shape, it was topped with caviar and rested atop a very salty miso soy broth that was to be spiced up by adding some of the fresh wasabi. Each taste was a melange of cold, soft, crispy, salty, warm, and pungent. I was most pleasantly surprised - remember that I am not the biggest fan of raw seafood, but I was going to be game for Morimoto, since I knew the quality would be impeccable. Plus, if I really hated it, I'm sure I could foist it onto my raw-loving hubby. Raw or no, I think this was my favorite dish.

The little pink fruit is a mountain peach. Our waiter had asked if we had any food allergies, so I made sure to tell him about my problems with stone fruits and soy milk. He realized the peach mistake as he was telling us about our dish, and whisked mine away to be replaced with a tiny dish of chopped pineapple. Hub says the peach tasted like a raspberry.

Our next courses were similar. DH was getting the more expensive dishes, so he was presented with thinly sliced scallop carpaccio drizzled in warm oil with soy, while I received striped bass. As he's not a big fan of scallop, we traded. The seafood was tender and delicious, subtly flavored with soy and yuzu. As you may be able to see in the photos, the warm oil cooked the flesh a bit in spots, giving it slightly different textures.

The "salad" course was next. Unfortunately, the restaurant was so loud, I couldn't hear the components of every dish, so I'm probably missing something here and there. My salad had slices of kingfish (Spanish mackerel) that had been seared on the skin side, leaving the flesh raw. There was a small mound of baby greens, lightly dressed and garnished with bonito shavings and what seemed to be a finely chopped onion confit. The mackerel was suprisingly delicious, rich and not at all fishy, and the bonito was chewy with an earthy flavor.

DH got Alaskan sockeye salmon, and his greens got a creamy yuzu dressing that was a real knockout, flavor-wise. I think I heard that his dish also contained udo, a Japanese vegetable, but I didn't taste that.

The three of us were next brought an intermezzo of "sour strawberry soda" - tall shot glasses with a bit of strawberry puree at the bottom, topped off with club soda.

Hot entrees were next. Mine was black cod with miso, garnished with a bit of sweet pepper and three huge sweet black beans. The cod was perfectly cooked, a little on the rare side, and sweet. We were all enchanted by the way the sugary glaze worked with the fish. I know this is a traditional Japanese recipe that can be found online, and I am sorely tempted to try this dish at home.

The pricier entree was wild halibut wrapped in nori, topped with a bit of lobster claw meat, and garnished with a crispy object somewhat like a wonton. I didn't catch that part of the description, nor did I get a chance to taste it. Although complicated, this was probably the most boring dish of the evening. The seafood was well-cooked, and the nori was remarkably un-fishy-tasting (I dislike nori for that reason), but it was altogether unremarkable.

Next, I was presented with a bowl of soba carbonara, with tiny scallops, bacon, and parmesan. My pasta-loving husband looked at it longingly. I ate half, enjoying its unusual buckwheat-and-bacon flavor (which Kate did not like), before trading it for his panko-crusted baby lamb chops. They rested upon a dark substance that I think was finely ground black olives mixed with something else that I couldn't quite make out (and of course did not hear), and a dab of sauteed spinach. On the side was a small dollop of sunchoke puree garnished with sunchoke crisps. The lamb was cooked to about medium, and in itself was quite good. However, there was a weird sweetness about the dish that seemed out of place to me.

Our last savory dish was a selection of nigiri-style sushi. Mine included giant clam, Spanish mackerel, Japanese whitefish, hamachi, and maguro tuna. Hub's was similar, but his tuna was the pricier and fattier otoro. All were very fresh and clean-tasting, served with more of the fresh wasabi (the real thing, not green-tinted horseradish) and very spicy pickled ginger. My biggest problem with this style of sushi is that the pieces of fish always seem far too large, and I have a hard time stuffing it all into my mouth at once and chewing daintily.

Last, but certainly not least, was dessert. Because the blueberry dish contained a little soy milk, that one was placed before my dear husband. The guy who doesn't particularly like blueberries. He said the dish was somewhat like very gelatinous cheesecake (or panna cotta) and, although edible, wasn't anything special. I got the Morimoto brownies. They were rich and fudgelike and completely delicious, especially when dipped in the accompanying Suntory whiskey-flavored caramel and rolled in nutty cookie crumbs.

Kate went for the lemon sesame creme brulee. The unctuous cream was deeply flavored with lemon, and I believe the sesame must have been in the broiled sugar topping. We all loved this dish, and I think it's one of the best versions of creme brulee I've ever eaten.

Because there was a very long wait between the last entree course and dessert, we were given complimentary glasses of slightly sweet champagne. The rest of the meal was washed down with a bottle of Iron Horse Tin Pony chardonnay and many glasses of tap water.

I was very happy to have had the opportunity to finally eat at Morimoto, and would definitely consider going back. Perhaps to the NY outpost. And I'd go for the $120 omakase - from photos on the Web, I see that there's lobster involved.....

Morimoto
723 Chestnut St
Philadelphia, PA 19106
(215) 413-9070



Posted on Minxeats.com.