Cooking The Books

Buttermilk Biscuit, Fried Chicken, Cheese and Fried Onions

Sometimes a dish is so ridiculous you have to give it a go.  This is one of those times.

For anyone reading in the US, or Asia for that matter, the idea of fried chicken for breakfast won't sound so ridiculous, but over here in the UK it's simply unheard of.  Sticking it in a scone (a biscuit for our transatlantic cousins) adding some cheese and some fried onions just takes it to whole new levels of crazy.  My kind of crazy.

I found this whilst browsing the 19 best breakfast sandwiches on Serious Eats.  All the way through I kept thinking how great the sandwiches looked compared to our boring (albeit tasty) offerings over here.  This one particularly caught my eye though, mainly due to my fried chicken fetish.

 
I've made buttermilk biscuits and fried chicken before.  I used the prior biscuit recipe but decided to spice the chicken up a bit and as I sit here with slightly tingling lips from the chili (I've not hung around before blogging) I think it was a wise move.

So how does it taste?  Pretty much as you'd expect it to really.  Like a KFC that's been given the fairground burger van treatment, cheese slice and browned onions style.  Damn tasty, but I did feel a bit dirty whacking all that down having only been up 45 minutes.  I guess you can eat it whatever time of the day you please though.

Buttermilk Biscuit, Fried Chicken, Cheese and Fried Onions

Makes 2

2 Chicken Breasts

1 1/2 medium onions

200ml of buttermilk

Pinch of thyme

1 cup flour

1 ts garlic powder

1 ts chili powder

1 ts white pepper

1 ts salt

1 portion of biscuit recipe, here

2 cheese slices

Method

The night before eating finely slice half an onion, place in the buttermilk with the pinch of thyme and stick the chicken in to marinade.  It tenderises the chicken (not that a chicken breast isn't tender) and adds a lovely faint onion and thyme taste to it.

In the morning the first thing to do is make biscuits, instead of cutting into 4 though shape into a pair the right size for chicken breasts.

Whilst the biscuits are cooking slice the remaining onion and fry on a low heat for about 15 minutes, till brown and sticky.

Heat 1.5cm of oil in a frying pan to about 160 C.

In a big bowl or bag mix the flour with the garlic, chili, pepper and salt. Remove the chicken from the marinade, scraping off the excess, and dump it into the flour mixture, coating well.  Fry for 5 minutes on the first side followed by 4-5 minutes on the second side until golden. Drain well on kitchen paper.

Split your biscuit, place one chicken breasts on the bottom piece followed by a cheese slice, half the browned onions and then the top.

Eat.

Exercise.  Exercise lots.  Then exercise a bit more.

Mexican Chorizo and a couple of uses for it

During the Spanish invasion of Mexico in 1519 Cortes and his conquistadors did a lot of taking, whether it was of gold or local lives.  It wasn't entirely one way traffic though as they gave them chorizo (and the rest of the words in the Spanish language for that matter too), but 500 years is a long time and now what constitutes chorizo in Spain and Mexico differs greatly.  Maybe the heat of Mexico doesn't bode well for the long cool periods required for curing as the Mexican version is a fresh sausages, spiced heavily with chili, paprika and garlic.  Whilst the Spanish slice their cured sausage thinly and eat it as is - or in a bocadilla or on tostada - the Mexican affair is more a flavouring.  Small amounts of the pungent minced meat are fried then added to scrambled eggs or quesadillas, transforming them with spice and heat - a little goes a long way.

My recipe is based on a recipe from Lourdes Nichols and it has served me well for near two decades.  Her 1980s Mexican cookbook doesn't look remotely dated today, and it's only a little paperback from Sainsbury.

Mexican Chorizo

300gr minced pork, fatty is better than lean

3 TB malt vinegar

1 ts salt

1/2 ts black pepper

2 cloves of garlic, crushed

2 ts powdered de arbol chili, or other hot (assuming you like the heat) chili powder

1 TB paprika

1 ts coriander seeds, ground

1 ts oregano, preferably Mexican but normal will suffice

Pinch of grated nutmeg

2 cloves, ground

Method

Mix well, leave overnight in the fridge to mature, use.

I split into 6, approx. 50gr portions, wrap in clingfilm and freeze.  I find these portions are suitable for knocking up something for 2 people, whether it's scrambled eggs, quesadillas or fried cheese tacos.

Here's a couple of serving suggestions, they're more ideas than recipes as I knock them up on the fly.  Hopefully there's enough info to repeat them though.

Scrambled Eggs with Chorizo

This is one of my favourite breakfasts.  Fry the chorizo in a little oil till browned.  Remove from pan, add a little more oil and scramble the eggs in it, add the chorizo once set.  Warm a wheat tortilla till soft, spread with frijoles refritos (refried beans), top with the chorizo scrambled eggs, some fresh salsa (diced red onion, tomato, coriander and lime juice), a little grated cheese and hot sauce of your choosing, here I went for a green habanero based one.

Fried Cheese and Chorizo Tacos

These aren't tacos in the Old El Paso deep fried basket sense, just soft tortillas (wheat or corn) wrapped around a filling.  My nan always used to fry cheese as part of a fry up, I grew up thinking everyone did it but have literally never met anyone else that ate it.  Big handfuls of cheddar were dumped in a frying pan were they separated, bubbled and eventually rejoined into a crisp around the edges but chewy slice, kind of like a lump of cheese pulled from a pizza.  Judging by the amount of yellow fat left in the previously dry frying pan it must be one dish were frying reduces the calories.

Normally I do the same, just frying a lump and having it as part of a breakfast, but I recently read of a Mexican dish of fried cheese rolled around homemade chorizo so gave it a go.  The results are similar to quesadillas, obviously, but the frying concentrates the cheese flavour and gives it a decent bite in the middle of the tortilla.

To make simply heat a dry frying pan and dump in a big handful of grated cheese.  As it melts and spreads keep pushing it into a nice shape with a spatula and hopefully after a while it should come together enough that you can lift the slice out.  Place it in a small tortilla, sprinkle browned chorizo on top then add fresh salsa, roll up and enjoy.  As before some hot sauce is always a welcome addition.

Chorizo and Potato Quesadillas

I've blogged about these before so the recipe is here and just needs the chorizo above, remember to fry it till cooked before using though.

Meatloaf Sandwich

If you're anything like me - and I assume if you're reading this then you are - food takes up a disproportionate amount of your thinking time.  Whether it's a previous meal, a random ingredient, a possible recipe or a new kitchen gadget it's always on the mind, a mention of something by someone will spark a quick browse of the internet, halfway down a page about said something you'll spy a link to something else and before you know it your six degrees of separation away from where you started - still on the topic of food obviously - and you've planned the next week's worth of meals.  I guess, if we could remember them, all meals would have some path through which our mind travelled before deciding upon them.  For this meal I actually remember how I got there though. 

It started off some months a go - back in September as I travelled through Vietnam.  I'd been given a book - The Invisible Man - by a traveller I met and as I sat reading it I came across mention of a breakfast I liked the look of - pork chop and grits.  Knowing how my my mind works, the constant thoughts of food and search for new tastes and dishes to cook, I was well prepared and carried a notepad to list any dishes I wanted to cook once I returned home and was finally out of my self imposed kitchen exile.  In the book pork chops and grit went, ready for my return home.

Upon arriving back in England it didn't take long before the grits came out, ready for their pork chop, but before cooking it I had a little search on Google to see if it was a traditional breakfast.  In typical fashion the link clicking kicked in and before I knew it I was reading this review of a Brooklyn restaurant.  The pork and grits had gained traditional status but another dish had grabbed my attention and meat loaf sandwich had joined the to-cook list - one on one off it would appear.  I'm not even a big fan of meatloaf but the thought of a burger-like slab of it with melted cheese and a fried egg seemed the perfect mix for a hungover breakfast. A few months down the line and I've finally cooked it. 

I didn't have any recipes for meatloaf but this one looked flavoursome and not too heavily spiced for breakfast.  When you're making this purely for the leftovers it's a two day dish, started on Friday for Saturday's breakfast, and once cooked it went in the fridge ready for the next morning.  To construct the sandwich just take a slice of meatloaf (maybe 2cm thick) and grill till browned and warmed through, top with mature cheddar and then get it back under the grill till that is starting to bubble.  In the interim toast some bread and fry and egg.  Put it all together, adding some mustard or ketchup if you see fit.

Even without a cultural link or childhood memories this is seriously comforting stuff.  The meatloaf was moist and meaty with a sweetness from the 1/2 cup of ketchup.  The melted cheese and runny yolk helped bring it all together - moving it from leftovers in bread to a dish of its own merits - and upped it to the prerequisite lard requirement of a post-drinking breakfast.  With 2.5 lb of meat in the meatloaf recipe and just me eating it there was rather a lot leftover, I now have 6 slices individually wrapped in the freezer though so I can have the pleasure without the previous night's effort.  They definitely won't go to waste.

Texas Red

I'm a big fan of knowing the proper way to cook stuff, where recipes come from and how they were originally made.  Due to this a recipe that I've been fascinated by ever since hearing of it is Texas Red.  Everyone's heard of chili con carne, that Tex Mex dish that has conquered the world. We've all stuck minced beef in with tomatoes, chilies and kidney beans and served it over rice - right?  Well it might be right around the globe but it doesn't appear to be right in Texas, where Texas Red rules the roost.  A quick Google of this name brings back a mass of results with people debating (or maybe stating) what is and isn't allowed in one.  I first started looking in to the dish ages ago and my favourite site is this one - Texas Red - The Makings.  Even though I'd read about it many a time, frequently revisiting to jog my memory as to the proper ingredients, it took me years till I got around to making one for the first time. 

I've never been a fan of the mince, tomato and bean combination so was more than happy to omit all three (and the onions) and go for cubes of beef in a spiced gravy but whilst it may have been proper I was having trouble with the idea of such a sparse dish.  Could beef, chilies, garlic, oregano and cumin really taste any good?  Especially if I followed some of the hardcore and used black coffee as the liquid.  One thing was for sure and that was with such a pared down list of ingredients the chilies really had to add something more than heat and it was the gift of some ancho and chipotle that were the catalyst that finally got me cooking it. 

My first attempt was tasty, very tasty in fact, just with my two dried chilies and a fresh red chili or two.  Tasting the Texas Red early in to the cooking process made me think my reservations were warranted as it was thin and quite bitter.  The prolonged cooking sweetened the sauce though and the beef released much flavour so at the end I was left with a glossy red gravy that clung to tender lumps of beef, a richly spiced and hot beef stew more than the spag bol with heat and kidney beans I'd become accustomed to.  There was no way I was returning to the exported recipe but I still wanted to go further so I put in an order for some more chilies, looking forward to the sweetness, colour and variety of flavours (tobacco, liquorice, chocolate...) that they promised to bring with their fire.  Luckily for me my old boss makes frequent trips to Phoenix and he returned with New Mexico, De Arbol, Pequin and ground Pasilla to take the total number of chilies I could use to six (there's plenty of online Mexican places if you don't have someone who pops back and forth to Phoenix).

I Googled around some more, took bits from a few recipes and ended up with this recipe below, one I hope is in keeping with the Texas Red purists' views.  The combination of shin and braising steak gives a lovely texture as after three hours the braising steak is falling apart, becoming the sauce almost, yet the shin is merely lovely and tender, still in cubes that the gravy and striations of braising steak can cling to.  The depth of flavour is immense with the chllies all adding their nuances - chocolate, tobacco, liquorice, smoke - and some heat, a delicate hint of coffee from that strange addition and the ever present cumin taking you back to familiar territory.

Regarding things to eat with it if you read The Makings already then you know that rice is a no go and you want some soda crackers to both crumble in and scoop with.  Saltines aren't available over here but some expat American forums suggest the Doriano crackers available in supermarkets are a near identical substitute.  If the thought of a bean free meal is too much then you can always have them on the side and boiling up some pinto beans with an onion and a green chili makes a nice bland foil.

Don't worry about the seemingly huge amount of chili in this recipe, most are very mild and are there for flavour, the only ones with much heat are the De Arbol and Pequin and there's only a few of those.  This recipe was served to a group of 6 and everyone was happy with the heat, bar me who sprinkled a few crumbled Pequin on top to give it some oomph.  As with most stews this will benefit from a day of rest and a reheat, it's damn good straight out the pot too though

Weird And Wonderful: Part 3

Tripe.  No one food stirs up so many emotions in me.  The first emotion is joy, there's nothing quite like it to eat - the firm bite (like well cooked squid), the interesting texture, the way it soaks up flavours.  It's hard to describe just how good it is and why it's that good. 

The next emotion is anger.  If there's one thing food related that winds me up more than anything it's folk (adults really - one needs to cut kids a bit of slack) saying they don't like something before they've even tried it.  Nothing sums this attitude up more perfectly than offal, in general, and, more specifically, tripe.  So many people over here, if asked, will reply 'No, I can't stand tripe', so you reply 'What don't you like about it?  The flavour?  The texture?' to which you get in response 'I've never had it, it's just horrible and I know I wouldn't like it.'  How exactly I wonder, as I've just said tripe is quite unlike most other foods.  Plus what's the harm in trying?  It's hardly poisonous, as demonstrated by the continued survival of the billions of folk around the world who do eat it. Even if they did stick it in their mouths and found it unpleasant I've read various research claiming it can take anywhere up to 10 times of eating for a person to like something.  How many folk enjoyed beer the first time they had it?  Are you glad you went ahead a few more times?

Following the anger is shame, embarrassment in my lack of understanding for these people because, if I'm honest, I was in exactly the same position three odd years ago and for the 28 years preceding that.  The thought of tripe turned my stomach.  I remember being in a restaurant with my girlfriend, it was the Green Dragon on Gerrard Street, and it was the first time she'd met my mum and stepfather.  I'd recently made the conscious decision to broaden my tastes, to put reason above any irrational or learnt dislikes, and a dish sat on the table full of wobbly white rectangles.  We'd not ordered tripe but I had an inkling that was what it was and it took me a long time to put it in my mouth.  I finally did though and was met with a lovely, gelatinous texture and meaty taste - alas a chat with the waiter revealed all I'd eaten was a it of boiled pigskin, different but nothing I'd not eaten before, even if prior to that it had been attached to a bit of pork.  Soon after that though I did order some steamed tripe with ginger and from that point on I was a convert.

Embarrassment is soon followed by pity because I know that not everyone will indulge in such a journey of self-discovery that I did, three years (and counting) of force feeding myself everything I was given the chance to, and because of that a lot of people will miss out on so many wonderful culinary delights.  I've found my tastes are far from set in stone and if I put my mind to it I can eat, and normally enjoy, pretty much anything.  It's so liberating.

Back to tripe anyway.  When tripe first sprang to mind, being offal, the obvious cookbook choice was the wonderful Nose to Tail Eating written by Fergus Henderson.  Cited by many as one of the greatest cookbooks of our time, and legendary amongst chefs, it is full of traditional British dishes using everything from an animal one can.  Flicking through the pages though the only recipe for tripe was tripe and onions and, as much as I like to eat everything, I think of roux-based white sauces as one of the low points of any cuisine.  Back to the drawing board.

All these decision, and most of this post for that matter, have been in my head for about 6 months and about 5 months ago, as mentioned here, I went to Peru and encountered a national dish called Cau Cau, a tripe and potato stew delicately flavoured with cumin and herbs.  Fast forward to last weekend and I looked in my Peru cookbook and there was a recipe for Cau Cau and so I decided to give it a go and blog it.  One word of warning though, last Sunday was the day after my girlfriend's birthday and so I was very hungover.  As much as I like tripe it isn't the most pleasant smelling thing whilst cooking and on top of the hangover it really turned my stomach.  If you are going to follow suit then bear this in mind.  Also I don't think tripe is the easiest thing to get hold of for most people.  This country isn't blessed with the tripe stalls shown at the top of this post (this was Lima Market, Peru) but I managed to pick some up in London's Chinatown.