A pound (or two) of flesh

It should be noted I am not a prolific cooker of meat. In fact, aside from chicken and fish (OK, a little leeway on "meat," please), I don't really cook it. Partly to blame for my lack of culinary experience in the way of animal foodstuffs is my 4-year old, an incredibly, frustratingly,throw-up-your-hands-in-the-air picky eater. I've been told she consumes more diversely than some of her contemporaries; however, I have yet to meet another child who is so fearful of new foods. So, in terms of protein, we keep it pretty monotonous: chicken, eggs, a handful of lentils pureed and snuck in here or there, Applegate hot dogs, and bacon ( I know, I know, but she claims it makes her happy , and you can't begrudge someone bacon and/or something that makes them happy, can you?). I also cut my dinner-cookin' teeth in college. With the exception of friends who shared hunting spoils and the occasional markdown stew meat, I never cooked much more than bone-in chicken cuts and ground beef because of cost. I preferred liquid meals back in the day, with a food-truck-grease-chaser to help keep it all down.

Now that I have more cash, I have been trying to cook more types of meat. I truly love a great steak or roast, but even now, red meat is a little pricey for me. I choose to only buy free-range meat or from a place I can witness how the livestock enjoyed life before s/he met his demise, so this tends to up the cost of my beef choices. To try and become more proficient in one genre, and also to save some cash and support the local economy, I bought a quarter of a pig from a local farm, Pete and Jen's. I got about 20 lbs. of fresh, apple-orchard-finished pork: chops, ribs, a fresh rolled ham roast. As a rule, ham is not my favorite food. In fact, last year my employer gave us certificates to Honey Baked Ham Company, and I used it to buy tasty mashed potatoes, cornbread stuffing, green beans, and some pecan pie. The unnatural coral color, the weird skin on the edges, the cloves, all of it just kind of grosses me out. That being said, I am a ham picker: if there is hot, freshly-cooked ham on the counter at my grandmother's house, I will pick a piece or two of the warm meat off the bone and delight in it's salty goodness. Small amounts, I suppose, are superb little morsels in my mouth; a slice or two on my plate, not-so-much.

Well, this morning the ham roast screamed at me from the freezer, "SUNDAY DINNER!!!!!!!!!!!!" I shrugged, why not? I remembered a recipe in Nigella Lawson's Nigella Bites, which involved Coca Cola and mustard (two of my favorite things- sweet and savory- and when does one get to combine mustard and Coke???!?!?). I don't know if it was because I didn't have a bone-in ham or that it was fresh and not pre-cooked or if it's not a full-moon or I can't cook with Coke because I don't live in Georgia, but it was terrible. Dry, tough, that weird flaky gross thing pork does when it's cooked incorrectly. I followed the directions to the letter. OK, that's a lie. I never do that. But I did follow them pretty darn close, especially involving time and measurement of the braising in cola. Only on the glaze did I veer, and actually, that part was scrumptious- I scraped it from the top of my rawhide-esque slice and licked it off my fork. Yummmmm, mustard-crystallized-sugar deliciousness.

I also made the recommended corn pudding because what the heck? And I adore Nigella. If she says it's a good match, I trust her. However, Nigella darling has a far greater indulgence of cream and butter than I can handle, so I also subbed some ingredients. I am going to put in parentheses, what I subbed within the recipe, and you can choose. If you're looking for a luxuriously creamy pudding, I would try her version; if you're looking for a richer version of creamed corn with a side dish feel, try mine. Or substitute some more and create your own pudding, Puddin'.

I also served some leftover collard greens (glug of olive oil in a hot pan, simple saute of onions and garlic, add the greens to the pan along with a 1/4 of cup water, cook until greens are tender and all the water has evaporated, season with salt and a squeeze of lemon) and steamed yellow, orange and purple carrots. The veggies were terrific, really pure and clean flavors that I think would compliment a GOOD ham roast. Oh well, they can't all be home runs. To soothe my chapped ego, I beat a tsp of butter, a few tablespoons of powdered sugar and a tablespoon ( or two) of Meyer's rum in a bowl, heated up a slice of my banana bread from earlier this week in a pan a la french toast, and frosted it with my rum "life's-not-so-hard" sauce. The perfect bandaid to my meat mistake, and comforting enough to make me remember I make a mean chicken thigh. Tomorrow, Monday, an exhausting day most weeks, I'll stick to what I'm good at. Sundays are for going big and staying home.

Ham Glaze (for a 2 lb ham)

Handful of cloves
2 tablespoons of Dijon mustard
1tablespoon of molasses
2 tablespoons of brown sugar

This is for a ham that is cooked and hot- just a glaze to finish it off. Heat oven to 500F. Score the ham in a diamond pattern. Stud with cloves. Drizzle molasses over the tops and side. Spread mustard over molasses. Press brown sugar into mustard-molasses mixture. Bake for 10 minutes or until crackling and brown.

Corn Pudding

1 14 oz can of creamed corn
1 18 oz can of fresh sweet corn (subbed 14 oz because that's what I had on hand)
1 1/3 cups of milk (subbed buttermilk because I needed to use it up)
1 1/3 cups of cream (subbed fat-free milk because I have a lot to use up)
1/3 cup all purpose flour
1/2 tsp baking powder
1 tsp salt
5 eggs, room temperature

Heat oven to 375F. Beat eggs together until frothy. Add milk and cream (I used my KitchenAid and streamed it in). Add corn and dry ingredients. Butter 12x6 casserole pan (mine holds about 4 cups), and cook for an hour. The pudding should be brown on top and puffed up slightly.

Rum 'n' Snow

... And I'm back for vacation! We escaped the sunshine and gentle humidity of Florida and the sun-and-rum-soaked shores of the Western Caribbean only to be shaken (via airplane) and poured on ice (er, snow). I don't mind though. I am a bit of an extreme weather lover. Well, perhaps it's best to say I like to "mix it up," so flip flops one day, Uggs the next ain't no thang for this mama.

I had never experienced a cruise before and was nervous/ excited/ dying to get away on "the big motorboat," as H described it. I have some friends who absolutely love to cruise; others, they kind of put the fear of Triton and Montezuma's revenge in me around water transport/ accommodations. I fall somewhere much closer to like than dislike, but I am pretty sure that I will not be joining a frequent cruiser program anytime soon. I enjoy my vacations lazy and beach-filled; working on "ship's time" was not my favorite directive. If you know me, you know that the more I am told to do something, the more I will act like a petulant child: a bratty tween being minded by an overbearing great aunt who thinks you can't walk to the mail box by yourself or fix yourself a sandwich, so said tween rolls eyes, darts in traffic and plays with fire. Maybe that's overly dramatic, but my main motto in college (notice I stated college, not preschool) was: You're not the boss of me. Anyways, all that means is I prefer to wake up when I want, grab a coffee and if in Hawaii, donut (the best I've ever had from some hole-in-the-wall on Oahu), head to the beach with a book, towel and sunglasses, swim/ lounge/ people watch/ sleep all day until the sun sets, then go to bed early (it's vacation- I sleep a lot), and do it again the next day. Cruising doesn't really lend itself to my preferred laziness and own time frame. But I digress.

The employees were incredibly friendly and accommodating; I also noted there weren't too many Americans represented within the staff (just sayin'). There were several days where the drink specials were delectable, and I had quite a few amazingly delish meals. Their prime rib, something I am not one to order, was especially tasty: all buttery soft, a perfect medium rare, great salt crust, and not too much fat. The au jus needed some work, but there was horseradish (sigh of content). I don't cook much red meat because H is not a fan (my daughter is OBSESSED with cows, and it was very traumatic for her to learn the source of beef is her beloved bovine), so I really went to town on the ship with different cuts and beef dishes (Chateaubriand and a great New York Strip/ Black Tiger prawn surf 'n' turf). My cruisemate, friend of forever M, also enjoyed some tasty fillets. She likes her meat a little more done than I, but the bite I tasted still was close-your-eyes-swoon-worthy.

As you can probably imagine, the seafood dishes were also excellent. M and I both dined on an AMAZING brasa dish that I *think* was cooked in parchment, with lemons, fennel, tomatoes (more like a tomato broth than fruit) and black olives. Nomnomnomnom. It was so light, no heavy-handed oil or butter appearance, just the right amount of salt, and the vegetables and fruits were so complex in the sauce. The fennel had mellowed out, and the lemon was all cooked down and squishy and divine. I haven't seen Brasa in my local grocery market, so I am going to do some investigating. It appeared to be like a white fish, so I may try out my ideas on some haddock or halibut or cod, maybe even tilapia. Sole would be good too, perhaps.

There was also an incredible-cannot-even-take-how-good-this-tastes-and-feels-in-your-mouth chocolate lava-esque cake. Chocolate is my homeboy. I am like Glenn Close in Fatal Attraction (prior to going nutso) with chocolate. Oh cocoa, how I love thee? And how I adore thee even more than I thought possible when made molten. I ate, like, 10 of these little melty souffles that were almost like par-baked dark chocolate brownies. You know what I am talking about: those dense little morsels that are all deceptive and appear cooked, but when you break the confectionery-dusted top with your spoon, a black river of ambrosia flows out. Ok, so it doesn't flow it; it oozes like mud, but that's not a particularly nice visual. Whatever. I am obsessed with this dessert, and a recipe is for sure forthcoming...

But I what I love, dare I say, almost equally? Rumcake! Oh yes, rumcake. Alcohol, to me, is so much better when eaten with and cooked in food. Especially when it's all coddled in eggs, butter and flour and baked in the oven at 375 F. Now, what kind of Caribbean wayfarer would I be if I didn't partake in the duty free specialties. I bought a big jug of deep, dark rum, and I intend to drink and cook with it all winter to remind me of the tropics. I am on the lookout for some rumcake recipes, but in the meantime, I had a fruit bowl and refrigerator to clean out upon arriving in my winter wonderland. There were several cartons of eggs as well as some gems of bananas. Scouring the cabinets, there were some leftover prunes and raisins from Thanksgiving, and walnuts from Christmas. Rum-soaked fruits in banana bread it is.

Rum-drunk Banana Bread

This recipe was adapted from Nigella Lawson's How to be a Domestic Goddess (my bible during my Missoula years). Banana bread is so versatile, and the flavors really lend themselves to the vacation nostalgia I was going for. And bananas and rum-soaked fruits? Meyers, take me away...

1/2 cup of prunes, chopped
2 ounces of amaretto
4 ounces dark rum
1/2 cup all purpose flour
1/2 cup plus two tablespoons of spelt flour
2 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp baking soda
1 tsp salt
1/2 cup unsalted butter, melted
1/2 cup dark brown sugar
2 large eggs, room temperature
4 small, very ripe bananas, mashed
1/4 cup chopped walnuts
1 tsp vanilla extract
1/2 tsp almond extract

Put the prunes in a small saucepan with the alcohol. Bring to boil. Remove from the heat, cover, and set aside for at least an hour. The prunes should absorb almost all of the alcohol. When ready to add to batter, drain the fruit.

Preheat the oven to 325 F. Put the flour, baking power, baking soda, and salt into a bowl. In a separate bowl, mix the melted butter and sugar. Beat until well incorporated. Beat in the eggs, one at a time, then the mashed bananas. Stir in walnuts, drained prunes, and extracts. Add the flour mixture, quarter of a cup at a time, making sure all is incorporated after each addition. Pour batter into a buttered loaf pan (9x5 works, make sure it's well-buttered or lined with parchment), scraping out every last delicious spoonful. Bake for 60-75 minutes on the center rack. An inserted toothpick should be near clean when testing doneness. Leave it in for at least 10 minutes to rest and cool in the pan; then, turn out to finish cooling to scarf down, warm, with a smear of cream cheese.

You could sub out spelt flour with whole wheat. I would increase all purpose flour to 3/4 cup, though, and just 1/4 cup plus the two tablespoons of whole wheat. I also think I am going to try and get the bread drunk on rum the next time. If you don't have/ like prunes, try raisins. The prunes definitely added the rummy flavor I was looking for, and the extracts enhanced it, but how awesome would a drunk banana bread be, with eggnog or really strong french vanilla custard or creme anglaise? Or even make rum ice cream and serve the bread warm for dessert? Or you could try some fresh bananas, sauteed in butter, brown sugar and rum, add to the bottom of the bread, and then bake? Oh, the possibilities are endless, and so is my supply of overripe bananas!