Since parenthood came into my life, so has weight gain. It hasn’t been all that bad but I think I weigh a bit more now than I did in the days after I pushed that child out. Why? Because the gym is now a long-distant memory. Since we clearly like to eat, the gym was once my very good friend four or five times a week pre-child. Now, I’m lucky to even get a long walk to the park. If I still have energy after a day of chasing after a 1 year old, I’ll may pop in a yoga DVD, but I now realize that “5 Minute ABS” only works when you are doing more than just “5 Minute Abs”. I refuse to stop eating or drinking wine but I miss those carefree days of hitting the gym whenever I wanted to sweat off my stress and weekend steak and potatoes.

So how does Mariah Carey fit into this post? Well, recently, Mariah debuted her “post baby body” – a phrase I’m kinda getting sick of seeing on magazine covers. Yeah, yeah, she did it through diet and exercise and did gain like a million pounds while on bedrest with her twins but she has a FLAT STOMACH AGAIN! How about this chick - she did a Vickis Secret bra and panties modeling shoot a few weeks after giving birth. I was still wearing my “belly band” at that point.

But, it’s never too late to try and lose a bit of that baby weight, huh? This ceviche is the perfect way to attempt to do so without getting depressed that all you are eating is salad and brown rice. This ceviche is a bit different than the ones you may have had in the past. Normally, ceviche’s fish/shellfish is “cooked” by lime or lemon juice acid that it marinates in. This particular ceviche requires one to actually cook the seafood first. It is inspired by street food we had in Brooklyn several years ago. We have remembered it all this time – it was the type of NYC street food that is very hard to find these days (one that is probably illegal and delicious). With street food becoming a weird trendy thing, possibly because of the invention of the Vendy Awards and the infiltration of slick food trucks, it is sometimes hard to find street food that isn’t overdone or trying too hard. This particular hot summer day, we discovered a woman on her stoop with a little table containing a large, plastic vat, a tupperware filled with avocados and two bottles of hot sauce. For $2.50 we received half a perfectly ripe avocado filled with shrimp ceviche in a spicy tomato sauce. It was served on a white napkin with a plastic fork. The avocado skin served as it bowl. We happily sat on the neighbors stoop inhaling this amazing snack.

Five years later, we finally got around to trying our hand at the ceviche. After a bit of research, we discovered that this ceviche is closer to an Ecuadorian ceviche which is different from the Peruvian type most are accustomed to. The main difference between the two is 1) a tomato-based marinade with a “soup like” consistency 2) most often made using shrimp that is cooked/boiled first and 3) served with popcorn and fried plantains. We played around a bit with our recipe, adding some things that are probably not traditional. For instance, the tomato base of the Ecuadorian ceviche “sauce” is often made with ketchup and doesn’t have olives. We used some Goya tomato sauce and added olives for briny-ness. We also had some baby octopus that needed eating up, so we threw that in there too.

A few weeks of this as a weeknight meal and I may not have a stomach like Mariah or legs like that Victoria’s Secret model but who cares. It’s the trying that counts, right?

When our readers actually read our posts, it feels really good. Because we often write a lot in our post, it is understandable why some may choose not to actually read our words. We understand how many blogs exist, and many only have time to do the “blog drive-by” (you know what I’m talking about – the “I’m going to just look at the pictures quickly then comment something like damn! that-looks-deeelissssh!” drive by? We’ve all done it). But the thing we love the most about writing a blog about food from all over the world, trying to infuse history, cultural anecdotes and as much authenticity as possible, is when we get schooled. It’s almost like a sick, food-centered type of masochism. It’s almost as if we are bent over some Argentinian, Spanish, French or Italians knee as they spank us very hard telling us how wrong we were about _______________ (insert ethnic dish of choice here). Knowing we have people actually reading what we write (and telling us how we can do things better) makes us feel all warm and fuzzy inside. It shows us that people are actually reading our words and are interested in enlightening people about their culture. When we get something wrong on the blog, getting schooled helps us learn and grow and we love it.

One may think that one of the best perks of having a food blog is getting free truffle products (ok, that friggin rocked), free yogurt (didn’t rock as much as the truffle) or free seasoning packets (that basically sucked) but my favorite “freebie” actually came in the form of a scanned in family recipe. A bit ago, we received an email from a reader that asked us when we were going to take a stab at featuring “Arroz con Gandules” on the blog. He read the blog and understood the research we do in regards to authenticity and asked us to please try his “Puerto Rican Lady Friend’s” recipe. It happened to be a dish we had on that lovely “list of things to make for the blog” so, once we received this, we figured to look no further. We tried the recipe (even having to email the reader back to make sure I could understand his handwriting correctly) and didn’t even bother with any more research. It was that good and that easy to make and a perfect weeknight meal. If you want to mix it up a bit, do as our reader Christine does and serve it along with Puerto Rican slow roasted pork shoulder, Pernil, instead of the bits of pork.

Arroz con Gandules is often thought of as Puerto Rico’s national dish. It is the dish that will most often be made for the Christmas dinner table and after one taste, you will see why. What could be better than a one-pot meal with layers and layers of flavor?  What could be better than looking around at your kitchen thinking you have opened up a Goya shop (that is if you don’t make your own sofrito, sazon or use canned peas)  What could be better than being able to create a delicious crust of crunchy rice and spices goodness that can form at the bottom of the rice called “pegao“?(**We aren’t talented enough yet to get the pegao right, but I’ll be working on it as soon as we pony up and buy a real caldero). So, here’s to Robert – the reader who so graciously supplied this recipe. We may never have met you, but we think of you every month we make Arroz con Gandules!

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.

So, lately we’ve been experiencing a certain degree of apathy with regard to food. Maybe it’s the time of year or the grind of work, either way, it’s not a great place to be for us, and hopefully somewhere we will leave soon. Nonetheless, sometimes inspiration can strike, and delicious, seasonal citrus fruit can be the spark.

Now, I use the word inspiration somewhat liberally here because really, all this dish is, is lightly fried monkfish medallions over a mix of Israeli and regular couscous. The “inspired bit”, if you will, is the sauce, an olive oil, tangerine, and Marcona almond emulsion.

Fried Monkfish Medallions with Mixed Couscous & Almond Sauce

Ingredients

• 1lb monkfish tail, sliced into 1 inch (2.5cm) medallions
• 3oz Israeli couscous
• 3oz regular (or flavored) couscous
• 1 large bunch white chard or escarole (chicory)
• 2tbsp golden raisins
• 6 tbsp whole marcona or other whole large almonds (1 tbsp chopped)
• 3oz your best extra virgin olive oil
• 1 tangerine, supremed, and juiced
• 1 handful good black, or kalamata, olives
• 3tbsp flat leaf parsley, finely chopped
• 12 oz vegetable or chicken stock
• 1 egg, beaten
• 4tbsp plain flour
• juice of 1/2 lemon

Recipe

1. Cook couscous with stock according to directions on package, or eyeball it if you’re feeling fancy.
2. In a blender grind all but 1 tbsp almonds, before drizzling in olive oil and tangerine juice. Taste and correct seasoning accordingly.
3. When couscous is cooked, stir in parsley, olives and remaining lemon juice. Correct seasoning if necessary.
4. Heat a frying pan to medium-high and add 2 tbsp regular olive oil
5. Sprinkle with salt and a squeeze of lemon juice, before dredging monkfish medallions in flour and egg.
6. Gently fry monkfish until golden brown on all sides, and remove to a cooling rack.
7. Add another tbsp olive oil to pan and add chard. Sweat until limp before adding golden raisins, tangerine segments and the chopped almonds.
8. Arrange all these delicious elements artfully on a plate before wolfing it down with a chilled Albarino.

Note: prepare for a very long read or click here to skip forward to the recipe.

In the same way that there is probably some truth in the Chinese claim to have invented the noodle that became the ubiquitous Italian pasta, the origins of the archetypical British dish of fish n’chips seems to stem from Sephardic Jewish and French Protestant immigrants to the UK. In the mid-18th century, fishing trawlers became large enough to catch significant numbers of North Sea bottom-feeding white fish and domestic railroads expanded so that much of the UK began to have cheap and regular access to this fresh bounty. Also at this time, the potato-cooking skills of French Hugenot immigrants and the fish-frying traditions of Southern European Jews came together in what was to be a lasting and wildly popular marriage.

The French fry had been invented years earlier when the poor had first ventured to cook this new world tuber - originally only thought good enough for animal feed – and these techniques have continued to be refined to this day. Jews immigrating to the UK and other areas of Northern Europe having been expelled from Portugal and Spain brought matza (matzo, matzoh, matsah,) with them, which they knew to be an excellent coating for fish when ground or crumbed. Combining these two techniques with the endemic British passion for beer and deep-frying, resulted in one of the most famous exports from the British Isles since limey sailors began spreading a horrifying variety of VDs in port cities the world over. 

Today’s fish n’chips (depending on where you go) still closely resemble the original ideas found in Portuguese fried fish dishes pescado frito, in which strips of fish are dunked in a light batter of water, matzo flour and salt, then rolled in crumbed matzo before deep-frying in a cauldron of hot oil. In fact, the Portuguese are sometimes credited with having introduced this technique to Japan where it developed into the extremely delicious tempura style. In the UK, beer was often added in place of water to the flour (typically plain flour nowadays, rather than matzo) and salt, with the resulting batter being richer, but somehow lighter, frothier and more golden colored.

The British habit of “chipping” potatoes into larger batons than the continental Europeans, and now the Americans, and only frying them once, appears to just be a local habit. Some have suggested that the UK picked up on an early potato-cooking technique and kept it while the more culinarily-advanced French and Belgians continued to experiment with thinner-cut potatoes and double-frying, so that they perfected the golden and crunchy frites of today. I prefer to think of the British technique to be based not on ignorance, but on textural appreciation. For why have a crispy deep-fried fish and pair it with something else crispy? Why not pair it with something softer and more unctious?

My Life with Fish n’Chips

Anyway, fish n’chips became incredibly popular in the UK and its colonies around the world, with the chip shop still a fixture on virtually every town’s high street in the UK, Ireland, Australia, New Zealand and South Africa. For much of my youth, growing up in provincial England, it was one of only two choices for cheap, take-away/out food – the other being the uniformly foul and greasy hole that was the Golden Lantern Chinese take-out, so fish n’chips played an important role in our Friday night social traditions. After choir practice at our local church, we’d often hit the chip shop for a “slap-up” dinner of cod & chips with mushy peas, and bread & scrape (sliced white bread with lard), all washed down with our weekly soda allowance – a can of Lilt (a pineapple and grapefruit flavored soda).

Mr. Chips, the snappily-titled chip shop in my Cheshire town was universally known as just “the chippy” and, correspondingly - demonstrating some terribly enlightened feelings towards the town’s tiny, but most obvious, ethnic population - the Golden Lantern, was referred to as “the Chinky”. Subsequently, this ordinary little town has gentrified virtually beyond recognition, with all manner of ethnic restaurants elbowing aside these two bastions of atherosclerosis. However, echoes of these former times can still be heard in local parlance. Sadly, the Golden Lantern is gone, replaced by Slow Boat and Treasure Village, which now, demonstrating how times have changed for the better, are referred to as “the Chinese”; Mughli, an Indian restaurant, is either ”the curry house” or “the Indian”, and Est! Est! Est! is “the Italian”.

Fish n’chip restaurants still play a significant role in British gastronomic and cultural life. As with many countries, the UK has recently undergone a revolution in its food traditions, returning to basics and local ingredients and striving for sustainability. This has led to a re-evaluation and revival of many traditional dishes, including the hugely devalued fish n’chips. With North Sea cod stocks (like cod almost everywhere) having crashed due to overfishing, some traditions have had to change, and now other white fish are used including hake, halibut and haddock in its place, but the typical methods of beer and matzo batter, quality malt vinegar, fine sea salt and first-class British potatoes cooked in beef tallow (beef lard) are emerging again, much to my delight.

We’re heading to London to visit my new nephew in a couple of weeks, and will be hitting up arguably the finest chip shop in the capital, Fryer’s Delight in Holborn, which you will be the first to hear about right here in these pages. To date though, the best fish n’chips I ever had was at a very dodgy-looking chippy in Fleetwood, Lancashire (NW England, about 1.5hrs north of Manchester). Overlooking the grey and miserable-looking Irish Sea, I ate perfectly fried, golden cod, soft and salty chips and deliciously thick marrowfat mushy peas. It was a glorious, all-English experience.

But don’t think that fish n’chips only comes with mushies – oh no, variations abound in dressings. While the traditional is the simple sea salt and malt vinegar with a side of tartar sauce and M.P’s, others include, parsley sauce, brown gravy, curry sauce, garlic sauce, piccalilli, mayonnaise, Henderson’s relish, Worcestershire sauce, pea wet or pea’s water (liquid strained from peas during the creation of mushy peas) which is often free, baked beans, cheese or cheese curds, coleslaw, ketchup, chilli sauce, thousand island dressing, salad cream, chip spice, brown sauce, and summer savory (turkey stuffing & gravy), to name but a few.

Ever striving for the traditional in our take on the dish, we went with a pale ale batter, beautiful Atlantic cod (yes, i know it’s unsustainable, but our fishmonger doesn’t sell haddock or hake) thick cut chips, homemade mushy peas, homemade tartar sauce and, perhaps excessively, homemade curry sauce – my wife being a huge fan of dipping sauces. In fact, all of them are fiendishly easy to make, but as with most simple dishes, the key is high quality ingredients. Old potatoes and a shitty piece of fish even when perfectly fried will still taste like a turd. Similarly, beautifully fresh potatoes and cod fried in rancid old oil will be a disaster. Make sure you buy everything as fresh as possible. Fresh potatoes have very few “eyes” and yield a nice sheen of liquid when peeled, and fresh cod or haddock (hake is fine also) will have wonderfully shiny skin and nice firm flesh. If it’s already flaky and soft do not buy it, instead sharply reprimand your fishmonger for having the temerity to sell such tat.

Fish n’Chips with Mushy Peas, + Tartar and Curry Sauces (serves 2-3)

Although we were the lucky recipients of a gorgeous red tagine as an engagement pressie from my parents friends a few years ago, we decided to forgo using it in the 95 degree heat New Yorkers were forced to endure last week. For those who may not know, a tagine (or tajine) is a clay vessel used for the North African dishes of Moroccan cuisine. It’s a two-parter type of deal – the bottom is like a heavy clay pot about five inches in depth and the top is a cone-like lid. There are no air holes in a tagine and this is specifically for keeping the steam inside. It almost creates a small clay oven on your stovetop or in the oven. What’s absolutely brilliant about this cooking vessel is that, due to its conical shape, it retains the moisture which is emanated from the ingredients inside and as it rises, it gathers on the conical top and falls right back into the food braising perfectly. This creates real depth of flavor as well as moist and delicious meats, especially those cuts that are tougher or cheaper. Tagines are really made for slow and low type of cooking and are used for a variety of different types of meals including meat or fish tagines and even soups. I highly recommend getting one of these babies for your kitchen and trying it out – but wait until it’s not 90 degrees outside.Which brings me to the actual recipe portion of this post – it’s friggin/freaking/fricking/fuggin/fucking (however the heck you express it) hot here in my neck of the woods. H-O-T. The last thing I felt like doing was turn on my oven. Luckily, on a shop-a-holic spring weekend in April we got summer-fever and spent about $300 we don’t really have at Lowes. At that time (and in my “holy s&it it’s the first 60 degree day” happiness fog), I thought it would be a great idea to purchase a $99 gas grill for our “backyard”. Somehow, miraculously, we shoved this very large gas grill in our small ‘backyard’ in Brooklyn (I use the word backyard lightly considering our plot of bricked-over land is about 7 feet by 3 feet – but I AM NOT COMPLAINING… honestly!). It’s the best financial investment I’ve made since buying my husbands greencard 5 years ago!

I’m rambling. Apologies. I’m writing this as I’m at the beach, pink with a light sunburn, and I’m 3/4 of the way down a very strong vodka tonic (twist of lime, thank you very much!). Anyways, it was freaking hot in New York, I was craving a tagine and I did not want to turn on my oven or stovetop. What’s a girl to do? Buy all the ingredients for a tagine and cook them on the grill separately. So, that’s what I did and let me tell you kind readers, it was freaking fabulous. We grilled every bit of what I would’ve put in a tagine and we served it with a nutty and fruity couscous. It’s been done time and time again, but, like I’ve mentioned before in another “deconstructed meal”, sometimes you just want to cut into things with a knife and fork. This meal was super easy and obviously much quicker to cook than a tagine. It’s perfect for the hot summer. Just rub your favorite Moroccan spice blend over your lamb (or use chicken if you’d prefer!) like a Ras el hanout, and grill along side fresh apricot and olives. Yes, we grilled olives. Although I don’t think it’s necessary to grill, the olives did take on a nice flavor by grilling them. Throw it all together with some cous cous and (as my British husband would say) you’re laughing.

I have submitted this dish to Grill It! this months “Monthly Mingle”. 

TAGINE-STYLE MOROCCAN LAMB WITH GRILLED APRICOTS AND OLIVES – serves 2

Ingredients:

• 2 lamb shoulder chops
• 1 large onion, cut into thick slices (about 1 1/2 to 2 inches)
• 10 large whole green olives
• 2 apricots (you can use dried apricots or other stone fruit like plums if it’s not the season)
• For Moroccan Spice Mix:
  • 1 teaspoon cinnamon
  • 2 teaspoons coriander
  • 1/4 teaspoon nutmeg
  • 2 teaspoon cumin
  • 1/2 teaspoon ginger powder
  • 1/2 teaspoon chile powder or cayenne
  • 1/2 teaspoon paprika
  • 1/2 teaspoon tumeric (optional)
  • 1 teaspoon kosher salt
• For Cous Cous
  • 1 cup of couscous (your favorite brand – if it’s packaged, no problem
  • chicken stock to cook it in
  • 1/2 onion, minced
  • handful of fresh coriander, minced
  • 2 tablespoons pine nuts, toasted
  • 1/2 lemon
  • 1/2 cup raisins
  • 1 teaspoon of the moroccan spice
  • 1 can chickpeas
  • 1 teaspoon lemon zest

What do to:

1. Add all the spices together and mix with a fork or spoon to create your Moroccan Spice Mix.
2. Rub spice mix generously on lamb and allow to sit for at least 30 minutes using a little olive oil to help it adhere.
3. Make sure to reserve at least one teaspoon of the mix to flavor your couscous.
4. Heat grill to medium-high and grill your chops for at least 4 minutes (perhaps as many as 6 minutes – use “poke” test to check) per side for a nice medium-rare pink.
5. After a couple of minutes, oil the onions and begin grilling. These need around five minutes per side and be careful turning them as they tend to separate.
6. After turning your chops over, add the olives, neatly threaded on some skewers. These don’t need that long, they just need to blister a little on all sides.
7. Remove chops to a plate, cover with foil and allow to rest.
8. Oil, salt and pepper the asparagus and begin grilling them.
9. Add chicken stock to couscous, cover and let absorb.
10. When stock is absorbed, add pistachios, spice mix,herbs and lemon zest and fluff together. Aromas will be wonderful!
11. Remove onions, asparagus and olives from grill. Add all to plate and sprinkle generously with some more pistachios. Enjoy!

Check Out Some Other Posts You Might Enjoy:

Knowing Your Tagliatelle from Your Tagliolini
At the Desk Gourmet: It’s the Future
Free Lunch for Inner-City Kids: Does Free Mean It Needs to be Crap?
I’m Dreaming for Some Cured Pigs Cheeks

It’s the Thursday after Easter and most people out there are still picking the candy and chocolate out of their teeth having just gorged themselves on all manner of Easter Bunny-shaped confectionery. Ever the destroyers of convention, we have been doing something altogether more real and, some may say, sinister. Yes, friends, cover your children’s ears, for over the weekend, we — like Glenn Close in Fatal Attraction — put the Easter Bunny in the pot.

Easter traditions have a lot to answer for in the removal of rabbit from the American table. It is no coincidence that around the turn of the 19th century, fifty years or so after German immigrants had brought the habit of fashioning rabbits out of chocolate and sugar to the New World at Easter-tide, the amount of rabbit being eaten in the US fell into an almost terminal decline. It is only really in the last fifteen years that it has returned, and even now is commonly regarded with suspicion and, in many cases, horror. For what could be crueler than eating a lovely, cute and furry bunny?

Now, lest you think us heartless carnivores, I should point out that I am a big fan of rabbits – and I mean live ones. Not only did I have rabbits as pets for many years as a child and have very fond memories of how much fun they were, but I also believe that contrary to public perception, rabbits are in fact quite intelligent creatures with individual personalities and do make excellent pets.

So, you ask, how could I possibly, as my vegetarian sister puts it, “eat my friends”? Well, readers, first of all, sadly, my rabbits both died nearly twenty years ago, so I am not (and would not) eat the rabbits that were my friends, and secondly, we did not put a pet rabbit in the pot as Ms. Close did, but rather we bought two skinned, headless and footless rabbits (at quite a hefty price) from a local butcher, rather like you would a couple of chickens. And, few, save perhaps fellow poultry, mourn the passing of a couple of chickens.

Then, to immortalize this fortunate (it was making an important contribution to our dinner – what an honor!) and extravagantly-priced creature, we prepared a delicious Provencal-style stew with olives, capers and tomatoes, the making of which we recorded to fashion our first We Are Never Full podcast! What better way to give thanks for the life of a noble beast than to prepare it for the hereafter with a savory, herby sauce and record this event for posterity in mp3?

But, regardless of your feelings about eating rabbits, it really was a truly memorable meal and an excellent recipe (see below). We hope you’ll listen to the podcast and let us know what you think about our first, amateurish foray into the world of multimedia production. We’re planning more podcasts for the future and expect to get much better at it with every attempt.

Provencal Rabbit Stew with Olives and Capers (serves 4)

Rabbit can dry out quickly when cooked because it lacks fat, so this stew works perfectly to keep the meat moist and to tenderize it through long, slow cooking. We ate it with some boiled potatoes for the first meal, then over some tagliatelle as a ragu the second time. Either way it’s delicious and would also work well over rice or just served with some crusty country bread.

Ingredients

1 large rabbit (2-3 lbs)
2-3 tbsp olive oil
½ cup plain flour
½ cup smooth Dijon mustard + 2 tablespoons extra
2 cups coarsely chopped onion
½ cup coarsely chopped carrot
1 cup white wine (whatever you plan to drink with the meal)
1 large sprig thyme
1 medium sprig rosemary
1 bay leaf
1½ tsp tomato paste
5 finely chopped garlic cloves
3-4 cups chicken stock
1 16-0z can of whole, peeled tomatoes (tomatoes only, no juice)
¾lb brine-cured green olives (without pimentos)
1 can black olives, drained
¾ cup capers (large, not nonpareils)
¼ cup finely chopped/chiffonaded parsley

Recipe
1. Preheat oven to 375F
2. Cut rabbits into 6 pieces: hind legs (2), forelegs (2) and center-loin/spine (cut in half) or have your butcher do this for you.
3. Brush the rabbit pieces with mustard and then dredge them lightly in flour, shaking off excess.
4. Put a large, high-sided ovenproof pot (we used our big enameled cast-iron Le Creuset) over medium heat and add olive oil.
5. Add rabbit and brown on both sides – 2-3 mins per side or until golden brown. Remove and set aside
6. Add the onions and carrots to the pot and cook over a slightly higher heat until onions have some color. Sprinkle in the leftover flour, if any remains, and stir well into onion. (Additional oil may be necessary here if pan is dry.)
7. Deglaze pot with white wine over high heat and mix well to get all the crusty bits off.
8. Add the thyme, rosemary and bay, extra two tablespoons of mustard and tomato paste and garlic. Mix well.
9. Return rabbit to pot. Add plum tomatoes, olives and capers and add enough chicken stock to cover meat and vegetables by about an inch. Bring to a boil. Cover and braise in oven for 1½ hours or until meat has begun to pull away from bones.
10. Return pan to stove top and reduce sauce by about half. You may also thicken sauce with flour, if desired.
11. Check seasoning and sprinkle with the parsley.
12. Serve. Bowls are best, we found. Enjoy!

Thanks to Dean & DeLuca for the base of this recipe.

Please note that we are FINALLY up on iTunes. Check out all our podcasts

CHECK OUT SOME OTHER POSTS YOU MAY ENJOY:

• Spanish Easter Bread – Hornazo
• The Wrong Message from a Former Prophet (Delia Smith Jumps Ship)
• Fabada: A Mortal and Corporal Sin – But Worth It!
• Jamon, Jamon
• FRITO MISTO DI MARE (FRIED MIXED SEAFOOD AND VEGGIES)
• PERFECT BROCCOLI DI RAPE WITH SWEET SAUSAGE
• ROASTED PORK SHOULDER (Pernil) – The Low and Slow Method
• PAPPA AL POMODORO (Tuscan Tomato and Bread Soup)

TORTILLA SOUP (feeds 4)

• 1 hot pepper (cayanne, scotch bonnet, jalapeno, etc.), thinly sliced
• 3 cloves of garlic, diced
• 1 onion, thinly diced
• 1 teaspoon of chipotle seasoning powder
• 4 cups of chicken stock
• 2 cans of spanish tomato sauce (I prefer Goya’s brand)
• 1 large piece of skinless, boneless chicken, boiled in hot water for 10 minutes, cooled and then shredded
• big palm-full of cilantro
• juice of one lime
• 2 sliced scallion
• 4 corn tortillas (can use flour), thinly sliced into strips and deep fried for 2-3 minutes till golden brown ***NOTE: You can cheat and buy a good brand of tortilla chips if you really have to
• GARNISH: extra cilantro, a dollop of sour cream, diced avocado, sliced green olives (optional), some shredded cheese (I prefer Mexican cotija if you can get your hands on it).

What to do:
+ + =

1. Boil some water (or use chicken stock) and boil your large piece of skinless, boneless chicken until cooked – about 10 minutes (depends on thickness). Cut in half to check if it’s done. If it’s not, throw it in the boiling water/stock for a few more minutes. Take out to cool.
2. Heat up your chicken stock or if using the same chicken stock your boneless chicken cooked in, make sure it stays warm (and that you have enough!).
3. Heat up a big soup pot to medium and heat up some olive oil. Add your garlic and onion and cook till medium-soft. Add your diced hot pepper and allow to heat for another minute or two to soften a bit.
4. Add your teaspoon of chipotle seasoning powder to the onions, garlic and hot peppers and stir around for a few seconds, releasing the flavor.
5. Add your chicken stock and stir.
6. Add your Spicy Spanish Tomato Sauce cans and stir.
7. Squeeze a bit of lime in the mixture, throw the palmful of cilantro in and allow the soup to simmer for about 20 minutes.
8. **OPTIONAL STEP – Feel free to use some store-bought tortilla chips if you really dont’ have the time/means to make homemade ones, but you know how I feel about it! It tastes better w/ the homemade kind.*** Meanwhile, heat up some veggie oil in another pot. Using corn or flour tortillas (I prefer corn for this), thinly slice up some up so that each long slice is about 1/2 and inch wide. As soon as the veggie oil is hot, throw in your slices and fry till golden brown. When done, remove with slotted spoon and allow to drain on some paper towels. Sprinkle with some salt and a small bit more of the chipotle powder.
9. Now that the chicken is cooled, shred the piece into many bits for the soup.
10. Assemble your bowls by adding some of the topping ingredients in the BOTTOM of the bowl. Add some (only a bit!) tortilla strips to the bottom, enough shredded chicken to satisfy, a small dollop of sour cream, some cilantro, a bit of diced avocado, scallions, optional sliced green olives and cheese.
11. Spoon some of the reduced soup into your bowl over the toppings.
12. Add one more squeeze of lime to each bowl and then your final garnishes on top (more tortilla strips, scallions, bit of cheese, cilantro, avocado and another dollop of sour cream). Enjoy this comforting bowl of hearty, spicy soup!

CHECK OUT SOME OTHER POSTS YOU MAY ENJOY:

• CLAMS WITH WHITE WINE AND CHORIZO
• SQUID WITH GOLDEN POTATOES
• BRAISED PORK CHOPS WITH LIME AND OLIVES
• ROASTED PORK SHOULDER (Pernil) – The Quicker Version
• ROASTED PORK SHOULDER (Pernil) – The Low and Slow Method

The recipe is actually one of my originals, although I’m sure there are others out there with similar ingredients. I was probably influenced in my choice of ingredients by Daisy Martinez who uses alcaparrado with virtually everything, and by my version of Lidia Bastianich’s method for braised lamb chops, but I am proud to say that this recipe and its accompaniments are mine, all mine (evil laugh).

So here’s the deal:

Braised Pork-Chops with Lime and Olives

Ingredients:

• 2-4 large pork shoulder chops
• 2oz plain flour
• 1/2 large onion, thinly sliced
• 3 large cloves garlic, thinly sliced
• 1/2 hot jamaican pepper/habanero, finely chopped
• 4tbsp alcaparrado (pickled capers, olives and pimentos) chopped roughly
• 1 cup of no salt added chicken stock
• 2tbsp olive oil
• juice of 1/2 lime + 2tbsp sour orange (naranja agria) juice
• 1tbsp cilantro (leaves and stalks), finely chopped
• salt and black pepper to taste
• sliced avocado (garnish)

Mashed Yuca with Sour Orange and Allspice

• 1 large yuca or cassava, peeled and chopped into 1 inch chunks
• 4 pints boiling, salted water
• 3tbsp olive oil
• juice of 1 large lime
• 3-4 large allspice berries, finely ground or 3 tsp allspice
• 6 tbsp sour orange (naranja agria) juice
• black pepper to taste

Recipe:

Add the yuca to the boiling water, bring it back to a boil, cover with a lid and lower heat to medium.

Heat skillet to medium high and flour pork chops. Shake off excess, add half oil to pan and then add chops to pan. Brown on both sides – 4-5 mins/side. Remove chops to a plate, add rest of oil and put start sauteeing onions.

As onions start to brown, add garlic, chilli and alcaparrado. Cook for no more than two minutes before re-adding the chops. Turn up the heat to high and add enough stock to almost cover, but not quite, your chops. Stir and cover. When liquid boils, reduce heat and simmer for twenty minutes.

After the yucca has been boiling for thirty minutes, test it for softness with a knife. Just like potatoes, if yucca slips off knife, it’s done. If not, keep cooking until it does. Drain done yucca and put back in pan with olive oil. Mash like crazy until yucca is smooth and difficult to mash more. Add allspice, lime juice and sour orange and stir in. Correct seasoning and add chopped cilantro just before serving.

After twenty minutes, remove the lid from the chop pan and add lime and sour orange juice. Reduce liquid to about half of original and add cilantro. Correct seasoning and serve on a bed of the mashed yucca.

CHECK OUT SOME OF THESE OTHER POSTS YOU MAY ENJOY: 

• KOREAN-STYLE PORK RIBS IN PRESSURE COOKER
• ROASTED PORK SHOULDER (Pernil) – The Quicker Version
• TOAD-IN-THE-HOLE (Sausages Nested in Batter)
• WINE-BRAISED LAMB SHANKS WITH ROSEMARY AND THYME IN PRESSURE COOKER