Arroz con Pollo

The "No Box/No Restaurant" Challenge is still in effect.  Except I'm sucking at it.  It's harder than I thought.  Especially since, when I threw my back out, my mom brought me a box of Cheez-Its to cheer me up.

Blessed woman.

I am proud to say that I haven't yet eaten those Cheez-Its as a meal, though.

While trying to not eat out unless necessary for social/business purposes, I've been taking advantage of the stockpile of leftovers in my freezer.  Among them was a portion of  Arroz con Pollo leftover from a dinner party.  I was delighted to find I had enough for two meals, and since I live alone, I don't have to share.

Living alone is flipping AWESOME!

Until you find yourself congratulating yourself for a meal well cooked.  Out loud.  To yourself.  As in, "Awesome job, Shan!"  But I digress.

Arroz con Pollo is, simply, chicken and rice.  Most Hispanic cultures have a version of this.  I make a Puerto Rican version that is really delightful.  I actually learned how to make this in the first place, not from my island-born Grandmama, but from an episode of "Throwdown with Bobby Flay" a handful of years back.  This is a fantastic one-pot meal that feeds a large crowd and freezes beautifully.

See the recipe after the jump...

Four-Part Harmony Brownies

This ain't yo momma's brownie



The four secret ingredients in these brownies will make you want to sing! 



I wanted to bring my choir an easy-to-make treat for a long day of rehearsing, so brownies seemed like a good idea.  I'll admit it - I was planning to use a mix - but I looked at the ingredients on the box when I was at the store, and just couldn't bring myself to buy it.  I quickly found a basic recipe online (on my phone, in the middle of Target, thanks to the wonders of technology and all that), purchased the ingredients I didn't have on hand already, and scurried home to make a delicious pan of brownies from scratch.

But since I'm...well, how I am...I had to modify the recipe to suit my whims and preferences. 



My version yields a velvety, dense chocolate brownie that is crunchy on the outside and full of rich, gooey goodness on the inside.  These brownies have an exotic flavor, thanks to the addition of muscovado sugar, cinnamon, coconut oil, and fleur de sel; however, I wouldn't call them "salted cinnamon coconut brown sugar brownies" because the flavors are subtle, playing a supporting role to the chocolate and making a basic, classic dessert just a little more sophisticated.

I'd use an obvious choir metaphor about all the parts blending perfectly in tune, but why embarrass myself?

Read more after the jump...

Roasted Poblano Salsa

I had some poblano peppers (courtesy of my CSA box) that weren't long for this world, and a bunch of cilantro that needed purpose, so I had to come up with something that used them both.

A sassy salsa seemed to fit the bill.  This recipe is really easy.  Serve it with chips, or mix into some rice with shredded chicken/beef/pork, whole beans, and monterey jack cheese. You can also mix this salsa into cream cheese for a really hearty dip.




Extreme closeup!

 

Pollo en Fricase

One of my favorite places to visit is the beautiful island of Puerto Rico, which I've written about before (many times).  I'm not ashamed to say that one of the reasons I love to vacation there is the food.  My beautiful grandmother is from San Juan, and I was no stranger to Puerto Rican cooking, but it wasn't until I visited the island and ate traditional dishes with the smell of the ocean in my nose and the sound of the Coqui frog in my ears that I really experienced Puerto Rican cuisine.

On one trip, my good friend Cindilah and I were ravenous after a morning spent wandering around Old San Juan, and found ourselves in a little cafe near or on the Plaza de Colon (I think it was there, anyway, because no matter where we went, we somehow always ended up in that Plaza).  We took a chance on the day's special, pollo en fricase.  It was a thick and hearty stew with a rich, flavorful base, chicken, potatoes, and spices - perfect for two hungry sight-seers.  We spent the lunch in relative silence, punctuated with a lot of "OH MY GAW!" and "mmmmm..."  That was a good day.

Out of nowhere, I had a hankering for the stew the other day.  One can make and eat stew in summer, right?  I searched for a recipe online, found I had all of the ingredients on hand, and decided to go for it.  I adjusted the recipe based on what I had, what I prefer, and how my grandmother taught me to cook Puerto Rican food. 

Shannie Git Your Goat

Goat came in the CSA package last month. GOAT. I mean, I knew it was coming, but I'd hoped it wouldn't. In vain.

For a month, it sat in my freezer untouched. I toyed with the options. There were two - cook and eat the goat or not eat it and let the misery and mystery of the unknown meat continue until I descend into madness.

I chose the former.

Today was the day.

I gathered from my fridge what I thought were complimentary ingredients, formulated a plan, and drove to my mom and stepdad's house. If I was going to try goat, so were they.

I had four small racks of goat (frenched - so fancyyyy) I had to deal with. I decided to braise them. In a pan, I browned the meat on all sides in olive oil, removed the meat, and poured in about a cup and a half of Douro vinha grande (some Portuguese red wine I picked up somewhere) while scraping up the bits of meat stuck to the pan. I added a cup and a half of water, a palmful of smoked paprika, a handful of chopped red onion, and the meat, and covered. After simmering for about 20 minutes, I removed the meat, added 1 tbsp tomato paste and a little more paprika and reduced down into a rich sauce, and coated the meat in it.

I served the racks over browned cabbage and kalamata olives. It looked pretty enough. But how would it taste?

I watched the faces of my family as they took their first bites. And then their second bites. I waited for protests that the ribs tasted of tin cans and bad attitude, but the eating continued without incident, so I tried it. (close eyes, deep breath)

It was good. No, for real.

The goat meat was not gamy at all, as I thought it would be (unlike the goat yogurt I ate once - that's a story for another time, my friends). It tasted like beef that had been hiking in the mountains. Aside from the toughness of the meat (due in no small part to my overcooking it), it was flavorful and rich and meaty and hearty and delicious.

Hmmfph. Who knew?

However, we probably won't tell Grandmama what we fed her. It's just better that way.