Yup, Rain Still Sucks
(Note: The folowing notes are for an article I'm working on wherein I cook nothing but recipes from Betty Crocker's 1962 "Good and Easy" cookbook for one week. Every night after dinner I've been recording observations and reactions...but last night I was too sleepy. Today I's going to be my blog entry.)
Day 4: Sweet Lemon Spareribs, Creamy Coleslaw, Hurry-Up Potatoes
Sweet Lemon Spareribs were attractive because of the shock value, in that the main ingredient (other than pork ribs) was a can of frozen lemonade concentrate. This has been done before: cocktail meatballs in a sauce of grape jelly, cakes made with tomato soup, ham braised in Coca-Cola. The latter I am especially fond, of, though, so repeating the pork-prepared beverage concept held promise.
The method called for simmering the ribs in water for an hour, draining them, and adding the can of lemonade concentrate plus two cans of water, along with assorted tablespoons of catsup, soy sauce, and vinegar. Then simmer for an hour.
Looking into the pool of thinnish orange-red liquid bubbling away, it seemed a little...watery. A little investigation reveled that I had used a 12-ounce can of frozen lemonade concentrate, not the perscribed 6-ounce can. Hmm. I figured I'd just double the sauce ingredients so that instead of winding up with a sauce that was twice as sweet, I'd wind up with twice as much sauce.
Meanwhile, I made the coleslaw. It was like normal Mom-stlye coleslaw, very reassuring and comforting. Hurry-Up Potatoes I was much more skeptical of. The recipe called for paring potatoes, slicing them thinly, brushing them with melted shortenng, and broiling them for about 6 minutes a side. This, to me, sounded like a shortcut to bland, semi-raw potatoes. So I par-baked them (whole, as imagining the crispy potoato skin to come), *then* sliced them thinly, and then brushed them not with melted shortening, but butter (shortening is good for some things, but melting and brushing across potatoes is not one of them).
Not long into the broiling process, glowing red embers of potato skin proved the need for paring the potatoes. A few open windows, though, and the smoke was remidied.
The Verdict: Our dinner guests were much pleased by all items on the menu, but the Sweet Lemon Spare Ribs were clearly the hit. "These taste like lemonade" was a common sentiment. Another good reference point is lemon chicken, that gooey yelow favorite of Chinese take-out menus. The slow-cooked, melt-in-mouth porky richness really came through, though. Hurry-Up Potaotes I was vastly pleased with as well, despite the flaming bits of skin: their surfaces were a wonderfully crisp goldren brwon, and thier interiors had a hint of that fluffy, flourey baked potato flavor. Creamy Cole Slaw: tasted like cole slaw. We all had seconds.
Day 5: I am in the early stages of meat fatigue.
Day 4: Sweet Lemon Spareribs, Creamy Coleslaw, Hurry-Up Potatoes
Sweet Lemon Spareribs were attractive because of the shock value, in that the main ingredient (other than pork ribs) was a can of frozen lemonade concentrate. This has been done before: cocktail meatballs in a sauce of grape jelly, cakes made with tomato soup, ham braised in Coca-Cola. The latter I am especially fond, of, though, so repeating the pork-prepared beverage concept held promise.
The method called for simmering the ribs in water for an hour, draining them, and adding the can of lemonade concentrate plus two cans of water, along with assorted tablespoons of catsup, soy sauce, and vinegar. Then simmer for an hour.
Looking into the pool of thinnish orange-red liquid bubbling away, it seemed a little...watery. A little investigation reveled that I had used a 12-ounce can of frozen lemonade concentrate, not the perscribed 6-ounce can. Hmm. I figured I'd just double the sauce ingredients so that instead of winding up with a sauce that was twice as sweet, I'd wind up with twice as much sauce.
Meanwhile, I made the coleslaw. It was like normal Mom-stlye coleslaw, very reassuring and comforting. Hurry-Up Potatoes I was much more skeptical of. The recipe called for paring potatoes, slicing them thinly, brushing them with melted shortenng, and broiling them for about 6 minutes a side. This, to me, sounded like a shortcut to bland, semi-raw potatoes. So I par-baked them (whole, as imagining the crispy potoato skin to come), *then* sliced them thinly, and then brushed them not with melted shortening, but butter (shortening is good for some things, but melting and brushing across potatoes is not one of them).
Not long into the broiling process, glowing red embers of potato skin proved the need for paring the potatoes. A few open windows, though, and the smoke was remidied.
The Verdict: Our dinner guests were much pleased by all items on the menu, but the Sweet Lemon Spare Ribs were clearly the hit. "These taste like lemonade" was a common sentiment. Another good reference point is lemon chicken, that gooey yelow favorite of Chinese take-out menus. The slow-cooked, melt-in-mouth porky richness really came through, though. Hurry-Up Potaotes I was vastly pleased with as well, despite the flaming bits of skin: their surfaces were a wonderfully crisp goldren brwon, and thier interiors had a hint of that fluffy, flourey baked potato flavor. Creamy Cole Slaw: tasted like cole slaw. We all had seconds.
Day 5: I am in the early stages of meat fatigue.
posted by Lefty at 9:29 AM
1 Comments:
Meat fatigue causes you to miss your fiance's band while they played a show at the BOTH in SF with the weird Xiu Xiu. Oh well, next time go vegetarian and you won't be as tired. Eh!
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