© 2012 The Joy of Cooking Trust and the MRB Revocable Trust
Thanksgiving is over a month away. Chill out, y'all.
A package of fresh chorizo will make a girl do wild things.
It might just prompt her to create a slightly offbeat Thanksgiving side dish.
There's nothing wrong with Thanksgiving as it stands. The turkey, the stuffing, the cranberry sauce, the pumpkin pie.
But do you ever feel, in the part of your soul that loves spice and surprise, that Thanksgiving is a little...bland?
One of the most iconically-American (and especially Southern) condiments is salt-brine-fermented hot pepper sauce. Usually made from tobascos (the pepper variety, not the brand), this kitchen staple and table condiment is a snap to make, especially if you have a glut of chiles on hand. Here in East Tennessee, chile season is still in full swing, and many varieties thrive here.
Well-marbled short ribs turn into a luxurious treat after a long braise. The flavorful meat falls off the bone, and the pan juices from short ribs make for an exceptional, velvety sauce. We opted for red wine as the braising liquid and a large addition of mushrooms—which gets reduced into a classic marchand du vin (mushroom wine sauce).
I hadn't thought about it until recently, but our apartment in Portland is the first place I've ever lived that doesn't have a yard. No grass, no trees, not even a balcony for potted plants.
Years ago, but not so many years ago, I stood watching a team of draft horses turn a sorghum mill. The slow plodding of the horses and the gentle creak of the mill as we fed the cane through was the soundtrack of the day. Bright, June bug green liquid, thick with sugar, flowed from the mill to a vat beneath which we stoked a hot fire.
I've followed Autumn's blog for a while now. She is my favorite kind of blogger--she focuses on straightforward (but never boring), seasonal food made from fresh ingredients, and her photography is simple and utterly gorgeous. She also has a knack for creating fabulous boozy treats, which I appreciate.
I don't fry things often.
I find that fried things, like most indulgent foods, taste best when savored occasionally. But even that isn't the main reason I shy away from frying.
John and I started working for the Joy of Cooking in the fall of 2010. I had just graduated from college that spring, and John and I decided to work for his family's business. Neither of us had ever thought we'd find ourselves in such a line of work, but Joy has a way of sucking you in.