Made during the horrid, self-reflective, and, frequently, gassy hours aboard a trans-Atlantic flight this past weekend, our New Year’s resolutions swore us to no less than three weeks of Spartan, monkish grazing on whole grains, green vegetables and lean protein in order to trim ourselves of burgeoning, lumpy mid-sections brought on by the combined Holiday calories of three Thanksgiving dinners, two Christmas roasts and a New Year’s trip to France.

However, we have since surprised, or dismayed, even ourselves with the deplorable level of willpower demonstrated in abandoning our resolutions after just three days. Only slightly less amazing is that three days of salads could drive us to such an extreme. Perhaps the only positive we can draw is that at least we’re starting 2010 with a gastronomic bang instead of whimpering abstemiousness.

The chivito is, informally, the national dish of Uruguay and legend has it that it came about when an Argentine tourist from the city of Cordoba, visited the establishment of restaurateur Antonio Carbonara in the beautiful beach resort of Punta del Este, and asked for a sandwich of roasted young goat meat (a specialty of her native province), known as chivito*. Having no goat, Senor Carbonara proceeded to prepare a steak sandwich for his Argentine guest, topping it with just about everything he had to hand in his kitchen. The resulting sandwich was such a great success that it became a permanent item on Carbonara’s menu, and its fame spread across the country like wildfire, becoming known in the process as the chivito.

As with nearly every “national” dish, there are a few variations on the theme, but the chivito is basically a sandwich made of a thin piece of beef, often skirt steak (churrasco) topped with melted mozzarella cheese, grilled or pan fried red pepper, bacon, ham, egg (either boiled or fried), lettuce, tomato, sliced onions, mayonnaise, sliced pickles and olives on a bread roll. The two principal variants on this theme are the Chivito Canadiense (Canadian chivito) which substitutes Canadian-style bacon for the crispier kind, and the chivito al plato, a deliciously messy platter of all the typical ingredients served without a bun on a plate and often with fries, or, maybe even more commonly, with ensalada rusa (Russian salad – potatoes, mayonnaise, carrots, peas, tuna, onion, parsley, and, occasionally, boiled egg and sliced beets). Note: Chivitos may also substitute chicken or veal escallopes for the steak.

On our final night in Montevideo last spring, instead of our usual giant steak dinner at one of that city’s wonderful parrillas, we tasted our first chivito at a small sidewalk cafe in the quiet neighborhood of Pocitos. Until that moment, we had been led to believe that the United States was the home of the world’s most ambitious and artery-busting sandwiches — indeed, it is home to most of them — but we now know that the Uruguayans, in their charmingly understated and apparently ego-less manner, have created something which can challenge for that title.

Whether you choose to make yourself a chivito now or later, as a reward for an extended period of fasting, is entirely up to you, but since last night’s regimenal aberration we have remade our vows to gastronomic penitence. How long we keep them this time is, as yet, unknown, but the mere sight of a chivito tends to focus your mind on, ahem, one’s weighty personal issues.

*The word chivito refers, specifically, to a young goat that has been weaned and fed on solid food. It, therefore, differs from the cabrito, or baby goat – an unweaned animal – by being some months older.

Anyone who takes even the briefest glance at our body of work on this blog cannot fail to notice that we have a definite proclivity towards the porcine, and so it is that this top five is perhaps the most hotly contested monthly selection thus far.

The pig is, in our humble opinion, the greatest animal on earth, and picking only five products made from its wondrous bounty was a difficult thing. Beatific smiles spread across our faces as we considered our porky love and suggested different products and cuts of the beast, but, after much debate, a surprising consensus form between us, with only two points of disagreement.

Let us know what your favorite pork products are and win a package of pork-related kitchen goodies.

Amy & Jonny’s Top Five Pork Products:
1. guanciale (cured pig’s jowls) - Jonny: switch out for Spanish cured lomo
2. chorizo (pimenton flavored cured sausage)
3. jamon iberico (special Spanish ham)
4. chicharrones (fried pork rinds)
5. scrapple (a Philadelphia tradition made with lots of bits of pig and cornmeal) - Jonny: switch out for unsmoked English back bacon rashers

So, it might be tempting fate, but an unusually warm spell of late in New York has had me craving cooler, more autumnal weather. I bought a scarf and gloves that I’ve been unable to wear unless standing in front of an open fridge, which has annoyed my wife and caused our apartment to smell of blue cheese.

So in an effort to usher in more normal weather we made a creamy rabbit stew. But you don’t need to be craving a crisp fall morning to enjoy this dish. You could just be tired and in need of some TLC.

Forget the all-in-one massage chair with natural-feeling temple flexion-pads and built-in footspa, and the crack-team of velvet finger-tipped Chinese feng-shui massage therapists, this rabbit, mushroom and tarragon stew is so soothing we’re considering bottling it and selling it at CVS (or any other cheap store of your choice). It’ll not only soothe the turmoil in your mind and body, but it’ll almost certainly relax you and help you off to a restful 9-hour sleep (or at least it did for us).

Here’s how to do it:

RABBIT, MUSHROOM AND TARRAGON STEW

What you need:

• 3 rashes of bacon, cut into pieces
• 1 small onion, diced finely
• 3 cloves garlic, minced
• 1 box of button mushrooms, cleaned and sliced lengthwise
• 1 whole rabbit, cut into pieces
• 3 sprigs of tarragon – 2 with tarragon leaves removed and chopped and 1 left whole, bruised by back of a chef’s knife
• 2 1/2 cups of white wine
• 2 heaping tablespoons of dijon mustard
• 1 1/2 cups of chicken stock
• 1/2 cup light cream

What to do:

1. Heat heavy-bottomed pan/pot to medium-high and cook bacon pieces until almost crispy. Remove with a slotted spoon and set aside.
2. Pour bacon fat into a bowl and, starting with one tablespoon, add the fat back to the pot. Cook onion, garlic and mushroom in the bacon fat until medium-soft (about 5-6 minutes). Remove and set aside in the bowl with the bacon.
3. Season the rabbit pieces with salt and pepper. Add a bit more bacon fat (or butter if you’d prefer) back to the heavy-bottomed pan and add your rabbit pieces. Sear the outside on all sides of each piece until they are nice and golden brown (about 6 to 8 minutes). Remove to a plate for a moment.
4. I know, I know… lots of removing of food from the pan. They’ll be back soon. Deglaze the bottom of your pan with wine – keep heat up to medium and scrape all the bits from the bottom of the pan. After about a minute or so, add your chicken stock, tarragon, bruised tarragon sprig and mustard. Stir.
5. Now, add back everything – rabbit, mushrooms, bacon, onions, garlic, etc. – to the pan. Bring to a boil and then lower to medium/medium-low and simmer, covered for 30 minutes. After that, continue to simmer the dish uncovered for another 20 to 30 minutes. It will cook down to a thicker sauce.
6. Finish by stirring in the cream and fishing out the loose tarragon sprig. Enjoy!

Check out some other posts you may enjoy:

• “OPEN” RAVIOLO WITH HARE AND JUNIPER BERRY RAGU
  
• PROVENCAL RABBIT WITH OLIVES AND CAPERS
• ARROZ MARINERO (SPANISH SEAFOOD AND RICE)
• KILLING ANIMALS: HOW DO YOU REALLY FEEL ABOUT IT?

It was as if it was divine intervention. We finally found morcilla (see picture of sausages below – it’s the black one) in a specialty store up the block but we weren’t prepared to make a fabada or cocido – two other Spanish dishes which call for morcilla. I picked up one of my favorite Spanish cookbooks, The Food & Wine of Spain by Penelope Casas and looked up morcilla in it’s index. One recipe caught my eye, so I turned to the page and everything in the world just seemed be right. The recipe was for a traditional Spanish Easter bread called hornazo – basically a sausage-stuffed country bread. Whoa, sausage and bread all in one? Here in New York City there’s sausage rolls similar to this one from Proud Italian Cook. There’s also stromboli’s and calzone’s that can be stuffed with sausage, but they will also include sauce and/or cheese and maybe some extra ingredients.

What really drew me to this recipe, besides the use of my beloved morcilla, was the timing. Easter’s almost here and as you can tell we’re mildly obsessed with Spain… this recipe just seemed special. I really love authentic food traditions because, in America, we’re losing them every year. This month, Saveur magazine had a fascinating article about the southern Italian bread called pane di San Giuseppe (Saint Joseph’s bread) eaten in Sicily on the Feast of Saint Joseph on March 19th. The article was particularly interesting to me because as an Italian-American, I’ve always been intrigued by my Italian background and I always wished my grandmother offered up more stories growing up. Like some other first-generation Americans, my grandmother “conveniently” forgot certain parts of her history as she got older. It was as if the past was the past and they needed to look ahead. Anyways, according to the Saveur article, Saint Joseph’s bread was very popular in Italian communities in the US until recently, when most of the first-generation Italian-Americans died off. Many southern Italians living in America do not make this bread anymore – the tradition is dying off with the generation that used to make it. It just made me think about how sadit is that we all came from immigrants from various countries and it’s important to hold on to some of the traditions of the past. Talk to your grandparents. Ask them to share stories. Write things down. My grandmother is not around anymore, but my mother shares things with me – like my grandmom’s famous (well, famous in our family at least!) sausage and peppers sandwiches.

But, back to Easter and bread made around the world during this time. Easter bread is different in depending on the country. The Russians have kulich, the Ukranians have paska, the Greeks have tsoureki, the English have hot cross buns. The Spanish have hornazo. According to research, this Salamancan bread is traditionally eaten to celebrate the end of Lent. Obviously, a great way to celebrate a fasting of meat is to eat lots of it (with the sausage). Back in the day, eggs were looked at as a ’sort of meat’ since they came from chickens and were not allowed to be eaten during Lent. They were preserved by hardboiling them and used in hornazo. Legend has it that this may actually be the beginnings of the term “easter egg”, according to Wikipedia. Also back in the day, during Lent, prostitutes in Salamenca were ordered across the river so that the men in town were able to concentrate on their religious observences. The men celebrated their ho’s coming home after Easter was over by partying and eating hornazo (maybe the word hornazo comes from what the men got when their ho’s returned?). This is how the “Monday of the Waters” festival began. Gotta love how Christianity puts a temporary bandaid on lustful thoughts and actions.

Even if you can’t find morcilla to add to your hornazo, you could still use this fabulous bread recipe and stuff it with whatever you choose. I know I’m going to make it all year round – why wait for Easter!? Happy Easter, everyone!

HORNAZO (SAUSAGE AND EGG-STUFFED EASTER BREAD) (makes 1 loaf)

Ingredients:

For bread:

• 1 1/4 cups warm water
• 1 package dry yeast
• 3 1/4 cups unbleached, all-purpose flour
• 3 teaspoons coarse salt
• cornmeal or breadcrumbs for sprinkling
• 1 egg white for brushing (optional)

For stuffing:

• 3 tablespoons olive oil
• 1/4 pound bacon, sliced into bits
• 2 links of morcilla sausage, cut in half crosswise
• 2 links choizo, cut in half crosswise
• 2 hardboiled eggs, shelled

What to do:

1. Mix 1/4 cup of the warm water with the yeast. While this sits, mix the flour and salt in a large bowl and then add the softened yeast along with the remaining cup of water. Mix this with a wooden spoon until it’s all combined then turn out on a floured working surface.
2. The dough at this stage will really not hold together well, but as you knead it, it will become perfect. Knead dough for 10 (YES, 10) minutes, adding more flour if necessary.
3. Place the dough in a bowl greased with olive oil, roll the dough in the oil and cover cover with a towel. Allow to rise in a dark, draft-free and warm spot for about 3 hours, or until it doubles in size.
4. While the dough is rising, saute your bacon first, then save the crispy bits and the rendered fat (this is very important). Next, saute your morcilla and chorizo, put the rendered fat in the bacon fat to keep. Allow to cool. Make sure you hard-boil your eggs and allow to cool.
5. After the 3 hour dough resting period, punch down the dough and add a few tablespoons of the rendered fat to the dough as well as the bacon pieces. Knead this all together for awhile, adding more flour as necessary.



6. Shape into a ball once the oil and bacon is all incorporated. Next comes the interesting part. Using a knife, make slits in the dough and push in all the pieces of sausage as well as the whole eggs into them. You may need to pinch the dough to create a “seal” around the eggs/sausage. When this is done, you should not really see any of the fillings. It may seem impossible to fit all of these bits, but it really is. The more filling you have, the better the bread is. Don’t worry if some of it pops up. **NOTE: If I can, I recommend putting all the pieces of sausage in the same way so when you cut into the bread, you don’t cut length-wise, but cross-wise so it stays together a bit more easily.
7. Place the dough, pinched side down on a baking tray sprinkled with cornmeal. Flatten the dough slightly and allow to rise for another hour in a dark, warm, draft-free spot. It will double in size again.
8. Place the bread on the top shelf of a 450 degree oven with a pan of water on the bottom shelf of the oven, for 5 minutes. (OPTIONAL STEP: Remove the pan of oven and the mix the egg white with 1 teaspoon of water and brush on the bread.)
9. Continue to bake the bread 15 minutes more, or until well browned.

CHECK OUT SOME OF OUR OTHER POSTS YOU MAY ENJOY:

• CHORIZO, CHICKPEA AND POTATO SOUP
• WHOLE FISH BAKED IN SALT
  
• FRITO MISTO DI MARE (FRIED MIXED SEAFOOD AND VEGGIES)
• Fabada: A Mortal and Corporal Sin – But Worth It!
• The REAL Cocido of Spain
• Jamon, Jamon
• Pictures of Madrid
• Unusual Tapas We Ate in Madrid
• Vermut (Vermouth): Rediscovering an Old Classic
• Daily Bread: Still Eaten Daily In Some Parts
• Could Cheap White Bread Be the Answer to the End of World Hunger?

Another meat-free meal (with exception of our bacon crumbles garnish) once we returned from our pig-fest in Madrid. This one was a winner! The fried leeks added a bit of crunch (if you want to take the extra time to do this). We added a bit of sour cream for a bit of extra creaminess, but a half cup of heavy cream would be luxurious. In fact, the potatoes are so starchy that you don’t need to add any cream at all.

POTATO AND LEEK SOUP

• 4 potatoes
• 2 leeks, cut in half and sliced in half-moons (reserve 1/4 of a leek, for garnish – cut into 1/8 inch strips)
• 2 cloves of garlic, minced
• 6 cups of chicken or vegetable stock
• 2 tablespoons of sour cream (optional – depends on how thick you like your soup – the potatoes alone make it pretty thick as is)
• Salt and pepper
• 2 rashes of bacon (for optional garnish – leave out if you want a veggie meal)

1. (OPTIONAL) Slice your bacon into 1 inch pieces and cook over medium heat until crispy. Remove bacon and reserve on side. When cooled, crush to crumbles. Leave the bacon fat in the pan – this will give your soup a deeper level of flavor
2. Peel potatoes and cut into small pieces.
3. Saute leeks and garlic in the rendered bacon fat, if you use bacon, or some olive oil until soft.
4. Add potatoes to the sauteed leeks and pour in the chicken or veggie stock.
5. Bring to a boil and then lower heat and simmer for 20 minutes, or until potatoes are falling apart.
6. Add your two tablespoons of sour cream if you prefer a thicker, creamier soup (you could choose to blend first and see what the soup looks like and then add the sour cream and blend again). Add some salt, if necessary, and pepper.
7. Using a stick blender or a blender, puree the soup. I prefer a bit of chunks in my soup so I often take a bit of the chunky potatoes out while I blend the rest. I then add the chunkier bits back and crush with a fork.
8. (OPTIONAL) In another pan, saute your leek ’strips’ in some olive oil until crispy for an optional garnish.
9. Dish up and top with some crumbled bacon and fried leeks.

CHECK OUT SOME OF THESE OTHER POSTS:

• TORTILLA SOUP
• LA RIBOLLITA (Tuscan Vegetable and Cannelini Bean Soup)
• AVGOLEMONO SOUP (Greek Lemon-Egg Chicken Soup w/ Orzo)
• LIVORNESE FISH STEW
• PAPPA AL POMODORO (Tuscan Tomato and Bread Soup)

I’ve just died and gone to heaven. I just cooked with guanciale (cured pigs jowels/cheeks). I just ate guanciale while sitting back on my couch in my crowded, rent-is-just-too-damn-high apartment watching TV. If only every night could be like this.

If you read our blog (or know us personally) you will know how important Italy is in our lives. We were engaged in Rome and married in Tuscany. Because of our wedding, we ended up spending a total of almost 6 weeks all over Italy starting with our engagement in May, 2006 until our wedding in June, 2007. It has a very big place in our hearts and our stomachs! I think we each gained nine or ten pounds during our three week wedding/honeymoon this past summer. And I do not care that I probably still have not lost all of it. We ate two large meals a day and always had wine with our lunch, there ain’t any amount of walking that’s gonna melt those calories away.

One of our favorite places to eat while in Rome is right across the river from our favorite Roman neighborhood to stay in, Trastevere. We take the short walk across the Tiber to the Jewish Ghetto and up the building stairs to Al Pompiere. Al Pompiere is frequented by locals as well as smart tourists (you should not see any sneakers, oversized t-shirts or fanny/bum bag-wearing toolbags). Their food is very tradional Jewish-Roman cuisine. They have excellent Fried Artichokes and we’ve tasted about 6 of their pastas – all excellent. But, this is where we first tried Bucatini Al’amatriciana – a classic pasta dish from Lazio. It is named after a small town called Amatrice. Supposedly there are different ways to prepare this dish. In Amatrice they do not use onions, but in other areas you will taste them in the dish. Purists do not add garlic and purists would also only use guanciale. I love garlic and guanciale is often difficult to find in the States, so you can choose to be a purist or not. I’ve read others make this dish here in America with pancetta (next best thing to guanciale) or bacon (I guess it’s the second best thing to guanciale). Personally, after eating this dish in Italy many times and now creating it myself with guanciale, I can not imagine substituting it with anything else. I think I’m officially an Al’amatriciana snob, but maybe that’s because the last 4 times I’ve eaten this dish has been with guanciale.

After our honeymoon, I decided to (sneakily) smuggle a 3/4 pound slab of guanciale in my suitcase back to the US. At the airport, we had on our best “no, we don’t have any meat products in our possession” faces while we got through customs. But that was 6 months ago. The beautiful pig cheek slab has sat in our freezer in shrinkwrapped plastic waiting until the day was right to bring smiles to our faces and our guts. We couldn’t resist any longer – we finally ripped it open and created a pretty bang-on variation of the dish we ate many times in Italy. I know hands – down it was the guanciale. GOD BLESS PIGS JOWLS!

But, readers, PLEASE don’t think this dish wouldn’t be absolutely delicious without guanciale and with pancetta. It just may not have that specific rich, porky flavor that the pig cheeks have. We have about 1/2 of our slab left, so after one more meal 1/2 it will sadly be gone forever. Until my local butcher starts selling it, I will too be making this with pancetta.

PERCIATELLI (OR SPAGHETTI/BUCATINI) AL’AMATRICIANA

Ingredients

• 1/2 pound cured pigs cheeks (guanciale) or pancetta, thinly sliced
• 2 onions very thinly sliced (use a mandolin if available)
• 2 garlic cloves, thinly sliced
• 1/2 cup Pecorino Romano cheese
• 2 1/2 cups Amy’s Tomato Sauce (see below)
• 1 pound perciatelli, bucatini or spaghetti

What to do:

1. Reheat your Tomato Sauce, keep warmed on low.
2. Take your sliced guanciale or pancetta and cook on both sides on medium to medium-low. You want to just render some of the fat, not completely crisp up. After a few minutes, take the strips out and let drain on a paper towel. DO NOT THROW OUT ALL THE RENDERED FAT! Put most in separate bowl, keeping about 1-2 tablespoons in the pan.
3. On medium-low heat, throw in your thinly sliced onions and slow cook these in the rendered guanciale/pancetta fat. This process could take up to 25-30minutes to sweat them down, but it’s WORTH it. The sweetness of the onions when cooked this way can not be duplicated without slow cooking them. You want to make sure you keep stirring them every once in awhile. Add more rendered pork fat if the onions look like they need it.
4. Boil water for your pasta. Add your pasta to cook.
5. Meanwhile, when guanciale/pancetta is cool enough to handle, cut into chunks about 1 inch long by 1/2 inch wide pieces.
6. Add the garlic to the pan and then the guanciale/pancetta pieces. Allow to cook along with the onions for 3 minutes. Continue to stir.
7. Add 1 1/2 cup of pasta sauce to the pan. Stir the sauce.
8. Drain pasta, reserving a few tablespoons of the pasta water. Add the pasta to the pan along with the pasta water. Toss with the sauce. Add more tomato sauce if necessary — remember never to oversauce your pasta!
9. Allow to cook in the pan on low for a minute and then add pecorino. Toss and serve! Sprinkle some parsley on top for some green.

AMY’S TOMATO SAUCE (makes 3 1/2 cups):

• 1 28-oz. can of crushed tomatoes (san marzano preferred)
• 1 onion, diced
• 4 cloves garlic, minced and 2 cloves garlic, smashed w/ back of a knife
• olive oil
• salt
• 4-5 basil leaves, torn
• peperoncino (optional)

What to do:

1. Saute your onions in olive oil until slightly soft (4 minutes).
2. Add your minced garlic and saute for another minute or so.
3. Add the can of crushed tomatoes and stir. Add one teaspoon of olive oil, a pinch of salt and the crushed garlic allow to simmer for 30-40 minutes. The flavors will reduce together. Add peperoncino if you want a spicier sauce. Finish sauce with a little bit of olive oil and stir in torn basil leaves.