Writing With My Mouth Full

Your Favorite Meats from DeBragga.com

It felt like Christmas morning when I received a Styrofoam box in the mail that was filled with two racks of lamb, four pork chops, four rib steaks and a container of fleur de sel. The Rack Pack grill kit from DeBragga.com was the only thing I was waiting for before I could begin my long weekend. When it arrived and I saw how beautiful the choice cuts were inside their vacuum-sealed plastics, I couldn’t wait to start cooking and grilling them for myself and my friends.

You know when they say you pay a price for something premium? This rack of lamb is it. In Austin, we bought the same size of rack for about $50; it would be a little more than that in New York City. If you think about the grill kit’s price, you already know you have a good deal if two racks will cost you at least $100 at your supermarket. But this is not your supermarket’s lamb–they had a good amount of fat and we only needed some salt and pepper to make a meal out of each rack.

For the beef steaks, we used the oil it rendered after roasting it in the oven and cooked it with some garlic, shallots, thyme and a splash of red wine to make an accompanying sauce. The steaks were delicious with the sauce, but I also found that they were rich and succulent on their own. I know you’re not supposed to say never, but after these DeBragga meats, I think I can comfortably say that I will never become a vegetarian.

Squid Stuffed Squid

Seriously, what did people do before Google? When I bought several squid from Chinatown, I wasn’t exactly sure if they were squid or cuttlefish. They looked bigger than the squid I’m used to and if you’ve been to any of the stores in Chinatown, you know it’s hard to get a straight answer from any of the clerks. The squid were already cleaned off the plastic-y spine inside and that was my only way to tell one from the other: the cuttlefish “skeleton” is wider than that of a squid’s.

So I Googled and found several indistinguishable photos of squid and cuttlefish-looking things but then finally discovered this short paragraph from EnchantedLearning.com: The body of the cuttlefish (the cuttle) is flattened and has fins that extend along the entire length of the mantle. There you go; mine didn’t and that settled the dilemma of naming this recipe.

They were also butterflied open which required some butcher’s twine to close them up again after being stuffed. If you can get your squid cleaned but intact, you can easily stuff them through the head opening where the tentacles used to be.

Ingredients:
5 squid, cleaned, kept whole if possible, tentacles separated and finely chopped
1 small carrot, finely chopped
5 pieces of string beans, chopped
1/2 cup of bread crumbs
1 medium can of crushed tomatoes
2 stalks of parsley, finely chopped
2 stalks of scallions, finely chopped
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 red chile, crushed
oil, salt, pepper

1. Preheat an oven to 375º.
2. Heat some oil in a large skillet over medium heat. Saué garlic until brown and then the scallions until translucent. Add the chopped squid tentacles, the carrots and beans and cook for about 5 minutes by frequently tossing. Season with salt and chile. Add the bread crumbs and the parsley and mix to toast. You should now have a somewhat sticky mixture for your stuffing. Remove from heat and set aside.
3. On a large chopping block, lay the butterflied squid open. Spoon some of the tentacle mixture and spread all along the cavity. Grab one end of the squid and roll over the other. Wrap and tie to close with butcher’s twine. Gently move stuffed squid to a baking dish. Pour crushed tomato sauce over them.
4. Bake in the oven for about 15 minutes. To serve, carefully slice each squid into 3. The twine should easily come off so you can discard.

Penne with Roasted Eggplants and Tomatoes

I started my Saturday famished. The last of my wisdom teeth was extracted and the only thing I could eat was soup for my last two meals. The Vicodin didn’t quite affect me the way I wanted it to so I was left to fend for myself when I woke up. There were only a couple of eggplants in the fridge and one large tomato, but there were plenty of fresh herbs on the counter. When I have to create a quick meal without using too many ingredients, I usually turn to pasta–there’s always a box of some kind of pasta in the cupboard. I had some leftover pesto in a jar so I decided to add a dollop of that, too, to add some basil-y taste to the dish. I recreated one of my favorite sandwiches, pressed pesto and Gruyere-Parmesan, to match.

Ingredients:
2 cups of penne
2 eggplants, cut lengthwise then halved
1 tomato, quartered then halved
1 sprig of rosemary, roughly chopped
1 sprig of sage, roughly chopped
1 tbsp of pesto
1/4 cup of red wine vinegar
1 dried Thai chile, crushed
lemon juice
oil, salt, pepper

1. In a large mixing bowl, toss eggplants and tomatoes with vinegar, olive oil, salt and pepper. Transfer vegetables onto a baking sheet, flesh side up. Roast in the oven for about 15 minutes or until tomatoes are soft and a little burnt on the outside. Remove from oven and set aside to cool a little bit.
2. Meanwhile, cook penne al dente. Drain and transfer to a serving bowl.
3. When ready to serve, add the vegetables with the pasta. Toss with rosemary, sage and pesto. Squirt some lemon juice and sprinkle with chile to taste.

Rellenong Bangus, Stuffed Milkfish

Relleno in Spanish food generally means stuffing, usually a meat mixture that’s been breaded and then fried. It’s applied in Filipino food using the same concept but in this recipe, the meat of my country’s national fish, milkfish or bangus, is removed from the cavity, tossed and stir-fried with other ingredients, stuffed back in the fish and then sealed before roasting to a golden brown color.

I grew up eating this stuffed fish at family birthday parties. The kids always enjoyed the fried red hot dogs and marshmallows in skewers while the adults ate the “real” food like rellenong bangus. Milkfish is extremely bony and one needs a lot of patience to remove the very fine threads of bones but I’ve always thought the reward was much greater than the work. I gently pounded the fish using the smooth end of a tenderizer mallet to loosen the meat from its skin and then I sliced off the meat from its skin using a very sharp boning knife. A little maneuvering near the tail helped break off the larger bone in the middle. I knew that knife had its purpose!

The entire process took 45 minutes–not bad for an amateur. I left the sewing of the fish shut to my mother who is lighter handed with a giant needle and butcher’s twine than I am. The result, a cleanly sutured stuffed milkfish.

Ingredients:
1 milkfish, thawed if previously frozen, scaled, cleaned, sliced open along the stomach
3 tbsps ground pork
1 small carrot, finely chopped
a handful of raisins
1/4 cup bread crumbs
1 stalk scallion, finely chopped
3 stalks of parsley, finely chopped
1 clove of garlic, minced
oil, salt, pepper

1. Using the smooth end of a meat tenderizer mallet, gently pound the milkfish on a chopping block. Be careful not to pierce the skin. With a sharp boning knife, begin to separate the meat from the fish’s skin. Remove fish bones as you see them.
2. In a large skillet, heat some oil. Sauté garlic and scallions until scallions are soft. Add ground pork and fry. Add carrots and parsley and continue to toss until the ground pork is brown.
3. Add the fish meat with the raisins and toss to continue cooking. Mix in the bread crumbs. Season with salt and pepper. Remove to a bowl and let cool to room temperature.
4. Stuff the milkfish by spreading the meat and fish mixture evenly inside the fish cavity. Hold the seams together and sew close using butcher’s twine and needle. Brush the outside of the fish with some oil and put on a roasting pan.
5. Roast one side of the fish for about 10 minutes. Carefully turn the fish and roast the other side for another 7. Remove from the oven and let the fish slightly cool before slicing to reveal the stuffing inside.

L’Ecole at the French Culinary Institute

462 Broadway corner of Grand Street
212/219.3300
about $120 for two, with four drinks, with tip
♥

L’Ecole’s five-course dinner is probably the city’s lowest-priced prix fixe at $40, but at that unbelievable price, how does the food taste? Well, like $8 apiece. The restaurant prides itself in using sustainable seafood but I missed any information about their meat and vegetable sources. I assume they buy everything from the farmers’ market, but I wonder how they afford to charge less than $10 a plate if that was the case.

An appetizer of asparagus with crumbled chorizo sounded great but came out tasteless. I understood that the pan tomate with Manchego cheese was included to round up a Spanish-inspired dish, but they were disconnected here and the triangle of a sandwich needed to spend a little more time on the grill press.

The scallops were presented well in a row of shells topped with roe. They would have made great amuse bouches as they were actually lighter than the ones we received made of pancake batter.

I looked forward to my trout served in a curried mussel broth on a bed of baby bok choy, but the fish was under-seasoned and no amount of curry rescued it from blandness. The fluke was immemorable with braised cabbage and mushrooms. My Cornish hen needed some sauce to make the white meat taste like something. I thought the rhubarb that came with the duck would have been a perfect accompaniment because I’ve always cooked and eaten Cornish hens with tarty flavors like pomegranate. The duck triumphed as the best dish of the night. The duck breast was perfectly seared while the leg was braised with rhubarb presented, oddly, like Lincoln Logs. However, the bottom half of a side of rice was dipped in the leftover duck sauce and was an unnecessary addition.

We were pretty much satiated with mediocrity by the time we had to order our desserts, so we opted to share the cake with blueberry compote because it came with olive oil ice cream. We just didn’t want to waste any more food.

At L’Ecole, the ingredients used were not a problem. I’m sure there are talented students at the International Culinary Center, but they need to tighten their execution and add some finesse in their cooking to translate what they want to convey on their diners’ plates. I half-expected a professor in the kitchen tasting everything before going out, but it seemed like the students were pretty much on their own. Our waiter was really accommodating, but his every move was ruined by the too-lazy busboy who haphazardly stacked up all our utensils on our plates before briskly taking them way after each course–he just couldn’t wait to get out of there. We couldn’t either.