Team Temple grills these every week. All year. I don’t exaggerate when I say they are the best steaks I’ve ever had. You can use this method for beefsteaks, but why would you? Porksteaks are way more flavourful. It is a sad day indeed when we run out and can’t get more until the farmstand opens on Saturdays. We prefer nice thick t-bone chops with a good mix of white and dark meat and a nice fat-cap (it’ll crisp off).

There are three keys to porkchop nirvanna: DRY, OIL, REST.

1: Marinate

First thing I do is marinate them with a few splashes of Bragg soy/aminos. I don’t marinate long, just enough to get a bit of umami seeping in. Probably if I did longer, they’d be even better. I take the chops straight out of the fridge for this. I don’t bother letting them pre-warm to room temp. I think this helps keep more of the thick chops rare/med-rare while the outside gets the right amount of crisp/char.

2: Dry

Key number one to crispy chops on the BBQ is to dry them off as well as you can. The best way to do this is with a couple pieces of paper towel. If I use the wettest towels on the chops first, working your way to the new, I can get the total down to one small ‘select-a-size’ per chop. Not too wasteful, and the dryness makes a HUGE difference.

3: Salt

Lay the chops in a (dry!) bowl and sprinkle salt fairly liberally on both sides. Koshering salt works best because you can get more coverage. Don’t be shy with it, most of it will drip off, but it’ll really make a difference in the flavour and crispiness.

4: Season

Make up the rub. I just sprinkle some flavours that work well with the chops. Through much experimentation, I’m currently doing the following. Amounts are guesses based on the relative proportions for four large chops. You almost can’t have too much rub, because it will slough-off with the excess oil.

• 2tsp black pepper
• 1 tbsp chili flakes (for citrus high-notes, not spice)
• 1/2 tsp fennel seeds (roughly crushed)
• 1tsp onion powder
• 1/4tsp granulated garlic
• 1/2tsp aleppo pepper (just a touch for the earthiness, not spice)
• 1tbsp clubhouse greek salad seasoning

5: Oil

Key number two is to pour on lots of olive oil, probably half-a cup. Then mix the chops, seasoning, and oil together in the bowl. You want enough oil that they’re well slathered in it, with a bit of standing oil in the bottom of the bowl.

(Aside: Costco’s Kirkland-brand organic olive oil is FANTASTIC, the best tasting we’ve found for under gold-bullion pricing. It’s quite inexpensive, but amazingly good for raw applications, never woody. It’s what we use for cooking too.)

Slathered in oil is the best way to get a good sear on a propane barbecue.

6: Preheat

BBQ prep. Get the barbie REALLY hot. I throw on all burners full-whack with the lid down until the lid-thermometer pegs out, usually over 700f. When it’s up to temp (and the sizzle guards may be glowing orange near the burner), turn off one side of the BBQ, but keep the hottest part going.

7: Burn!

Chops go on the hottest part of the grill with the LID OPEN. Don’t mind if the olive oil is drippy, but don’t bother trying to get extra oil on the chops. Try to put the fattiest parts over the hottest heat. You’re basically trying to render/crisp the fat on the outside as fast as possible. By that time the rest of the meat will have just the right amount of grilling.

Flames will be *much* higher. You'll be too busy to photograph at their height.

Warning! Because the chops are dripping in oil, they WILL BURN! This is the secret to getting those perfectly crispy chops. The oil will burn, turning the chops into a bonfire, but the ablative burning of the oil and fat-cap will actually protect the chops from burning. Or some such. It’s science and it works. Have faith that the divine pork spirits will protect your chops.

Monitor closely, but DON’T PANIC. Watch carefully, because they should only sit in the bonfire for a handful of seconds before the outside is perfectly charred. Also, please don’t burn your house down. Er. Maybe I should have put that warning first. Keep the lid up while the conflagration is happening!

Grill until the outside is perfect, then move to indirect heat. Move the chops around, trying to get each side of each chop to the nicest looking amount of char. It won’t take long at all. Once they look beautiful, move each chop to the side of the grill with the burners off. They’ll still be blue in the middle, but the outside is done.

Total time over direct heat is maybe 3-4min. Keep your eye on the (flaming) prize!

Sear until it looks delicious, then move to indirect heat.

8: Bake

After all chops are moved off the direct heat (and any flash flames have died down) keep the one side of the grill still burning, but close the lid for indirect heat finishing. You’re going to essentially bake the chops until their internal temp is 105°F. Check the internal temp regularly.

(Aside: The best thermometer I have found is the ThermoWorks Thermapen instant-read thermometer. The ThermoWorks DOT is the best leave-in thermometer, which will make every roast and turkey easier and better. These two are in my absolutely essential kitchen kit.)

Sometimes the chops are different thicknesses and will cook at different rates. I put the cooler chops higher up to cook a little faster. My BBQ has a rack along the back of the grill, and on the indirect side, the top part of the rack will get more heat than the grill surface (lid-closed the heat fills from top down).

I like my chops medium-rare, and taking thick chops off at 105F will result in them being closer to medium, but with rarer bits right near the bone. Thinner chops can cook faster, but I don’t like to take them off before the others, because they’ll start to cool. You want them to retain their heat so they can finish cooking while resting. If some are done early, I move them to the cooler parts of the grill (on my grill up at the front corner opposite the side the burners are still going).

Note: The indirect baking accellerates as it heats up. It can take a while for the chops to get from 80-90, but from 90-120 can go fast!

Total time for indirect baking is probably another 4-5min. Less if you don’t open the lid frequently, which I do often to check the temp.

9: Rest

Key number three: they MUST rest to finish cooking. Quickly remove chops to a plate, piling them together to best retain heat (porkies at the bottom of the piggy pile will cook more). Quickly cover tightly with foil and remove to small insulated space. The microwave is a perfect little resting box. Er… don’t turn it on. ;)

After at least 10 min of resting (20 is ideal, we eat salad while they rest), the high heat on the outside will have sunk in to the middle, finishing the cooking to tender perfection. If you cut into them at 105F, they’ll be pretty blue, but after 10min resting, they’ll be at least med-rare. Sometimes I overshoot medium-rare, but they still wind up super tender with this resting method. Plus, with thick, bone-in porkchops, you’ll always have less well-cooked bits near the bone.

Pink pork is good. We buy good pork, and you haven’t really had to worry about rare pork in the past few decades (statistically it’s safer than beef), so we don’t mind it quite rare near the bone. Dial it in to your tastes.

10: Enjoy!

Try not to make obscene noises (unless your dining partner’s into that). And most importantly, I’d love to hear how it goes!    

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Turkey, turkey, turkey! Here it is, my mother’s amazing turkey dinner recipe, straight from the source [with my notes added in brackets].

I know that everybody’s partial to their mother’s cooking, but my mom’s turkey dinner is always outstanding! It’s her secret weapon for getting me over to the Island to visit. I’m a horrible son. (Sorry Mom!)

It’s not as specific as a cook-book recipe, but it doesn’t need to be. Anybody with a cook’s soul should breeze through it (chef-ery not required). Post your questions, and I’ll answer below. (My Mom may even too!)

Stuffing

• italian bread, extra long sliced loaf [D'Italiano works great, so do more squirrely breads]
• onion
• garlic
• celery
• italian sausage [Costco hot italian is outstandingly good italian sausage for any recipe!]
• mushrooms [I use white, but you can use whatever floats your boat]
• red pepper
• eggs
• salt
• pepper
• sage
• poultry seasoning
• butter
• olive oil

Make sure that you freeze the loaf of bread ahead of time so that it is easy to cut into cubes without it getting squishy.

Put some olive oil and butter in a large saute pan. If your italian sausage is in casing, remove and crumble into pan as many to taste, say 5 or 6 for a full loaf of bread [I use 4 or 5 of the big Costco sausages, about 600-700g]. Add onions and brown along with sausage.

In the meantime finely chop one or two celery stalks, loads of garlic, and as many mushrooms as you like [I use lots, you can't have too many!].

When the sausage is browned, turn down heat and add the celery, garlic, mushrooms, some more olive oil and too much butter for anyones good. I use lots of butter as it gives a nice flavour [It's turkey dinner, leave your food-conscience at the door!]. Add quite a lot of sage – again to taste – bearing in mind it will diffuse through the bread so if it seems too strong, it probably wont be. I’d say about 2 tablespoons at least, maybe more. Add about the same, or a little less in poultry seasoning. Grind in some pepper, but don’t use too much salt as the butter is salty. Also at this time add water to the pan, enough to make it all quite moist but not soupy.

Let this concoction simmer while you dice the bread. I use almost the whole loaf for a 20 pound-ish turkey. [I use the whole loaf with all that sausage and mushroom to ensure a side pan of stuffing. It's the best part!]

Place the diced bread in a large bowl and beat about 4 or 5 eggs. Toss the eggs gently into the bread mix then add the sausage/seasoning and toss gently. You may need to add a little more water to the sausage/seasoning mix before mixing with bread. You want a bread mixture that is moist but not soppy.

At this time toss in the diced red pepper and you could add apple or nuts or whatever at this time as well. [I'm preferential to just the red pepper, no nuts or apples.]

Stuff it all into the turkey cavity. [Very Important: Never stuff the cavity full! It will make your turkey take hours longer to cook. Only ever put an inch or so of stuffing in the cavity, make sure there's plenty of room for hot air. Go right ahead and stuff the neck-flap full though!] If you have too much [Likely!] you can put the excess in a buttered oven dish and refrigerate for a while. You only want to cook the stuffing in the dish for about an hour at the end. [I also add some turkey drippings into the extra pan of stuffing to give it that same turkey flavour].

Turkey and Gravy

• butter
• olive oil
• chicken or turkey “Better Than Bouillon” [this stuff (and the veggie one) is magical]
• fresh rosemary
• turkey!

[I always brine the turkey beforehand. It really doesn't take long, and results in an amazingly tender bird. The best brine recipe follows an easy to remember mnemonic: "Quarter-Quarter-Quart". Use a Quarter cup of white sugar and a Quarter cup of table salt for every Quart of warm-to-hot tap water (multiply these amounts for as much brine as you need). This makes a pretty strong brine, way stronger than the overnight varieties. Brine for no more than 45 minutes (three 'Quarts' again!). For smaller pieces of chicken/pork-chops I only do 20-25 min. Very important: After brining, rinse the bird thoroughly, inside and out, to remove all the salt!]

Stuff some butter [and sage, rosemary, and other aromatics] under the skin of the turkey breast. Slather outer skin with a little butter and olive oil and season with salt and pepper.

Now the secret for the BEST turkey…

Place the turkey in a roaster and add about an inch of water to the pan. I also add about a tablespoon of turkey “better than boullion”, then cover the roaster. If you do not have a covered roasting pan, make a tent of foil making sure to make it as air tight as possible. It’s better to have a covered roaster.

Place the roaster in the oven and turn up heat to about 425 degrees. As soon as you can smell the turkey beginning to cook [might be a couple hours if your bird is cold], turn down the heat to about 350 degrees. Depending on size of bird, cook for about another hour or less, then remove the lid. There will now be about two or more inches of water in the pan as all the water they inject into the birds to make them heavier has now leeched out. The bird will also look a sickly white … don’t panic!

At this time remove the lid and cover loosely with a tent of foil … don’t seal … just cover.
Cook for another half hour or so depending on size of bird, then CAREFULLY pour off all the liquid in the bottom of the roasting pan into a saucepan [Best to remove the turkey from the roaster to do this. If you have turkey lifters, great, but if not, you can stick a chef's knife edge-down into the cavity, and lift the whole bird on the back edge of the knife]. Return turkey to oven. The liquid you poured off will be clear-ish … don’t panic. [You can pour some of this liquid into the extra pan of stuffing at this point.]

Boil the liquid VIGOROUSLY in the sauce pan until it renders down to a nicely thick brown goo. Pour this over the turkey and return the turkey to the oven with just a loose cover of foil. By now you should have only about a half hour of cooking left, so it should be browned just perfectly. [After the turkey is done, remove it from the pan and cover to let it rest for at least 15-20 minutes. Best to use a meat thermometer to determine this and slightly adjust the times in this recipe accordingly.]

For gravy, add a little white wine to the roasting pan to deglaze. Then add a little more water, some flour, and some turkey “better than boullion”. Depending on how much dripping there is in the roasting pan, you may have to add some packaged turkey mix to the gravy. [I always add a couple or few packages, enough to make 3-4 cups of gravy. It's got to last all week, and I like lots of gravy! When it combines with the turkey drippings, it's so good.] Reduce this down until it looks like gravy. I also add a sprig or so of fresh rosemary near the end.

How’d it work for you?

Hope that helps! The first time we tried it, it turned out perfectly, and now we make it whenever we have an excuse now!

I’d love to hear how it works out for you. If you have tips or tricks, share them below. I’ll try them out and incorporate them into the above.    

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He prepared the explosives with slight care, quickly, casually, the ritual well-practiced, components proportioned more or less precisely, burner tuned just-so to an unmarked setting, the steel lid lowered for even heating and explosive containment.

Sirens sang, foreboding shrieks and squawks and shearing sounds, as the vessel was shaken and slid across the element, stirring untouched its contents. Intermittently the concoctor ceased his agitation and crooked an expert ear to the silence, listening for sizzling, steady but not slow, energetic but not angry. It mustn’t burn. Burning meant acrid smoke, accusatory smoke, overpoweringly aromatic smoke, smoking evidence that lingered, alerted the neighbours, testified to his activities, testified to his inexpertise.

An explosion surely overdue, his doubts began to mount. Was it too hot? Not hot enough? Was this batch going to explode? *pop* The first explosion always a surprise, always a relief. *pop-pop-pop* The explosions came faster, faster still. The tin-can rat-a-tat-tat of the popping startled his senses, stimulating salivation before sent was detected.

Still shaking, sliding, stirring the pot, he watched, trance-like, the stochastic explosions sending kernels careening, chaotically clanging and caroming off the pot with each pop, pop, pop.

Eyes drying and mouth watering, he stood mesmerized by the turmoil. Blasted blossoms burst like frozen fireballs, each concussion showering the seething mass with corn-husk shrapnel, triggering secondary and tertiary explosions as ticking time-bombs tumbled.

At last the cacophonous barrage began to abate. But not the stirring, shaking, sliding. He knew the risk of burning was highest now, knew that explosive packages had to be sifted toward the heat, had to be detonated before the now-dry pan overheated.

Three seconds. Three seconds without a pop was all that could be afforded. One—*pop* The clock reset. One…*pop* Reset. One… two…*pop* Reset again. One… two…*pop* Too long, three seconds was too long this time. One… two… —burning, it was going to burn— three! He doused the burner, threw back the lid, and dumped the steaming contents into the waiting container.

Perfect popcorn.

–

Prompt: “Exercise One: Being Gorgeous” from Steering the Craft by Ursula K. Le Guin.

Popcorn Colonel image: corn soldier by ~oridan2 on deviantART.

Featured: CBC Canada Writes    

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I wanted to share this amazingly easy, healthy, and unbelievably delicious homemade beef jerky recipe I made the other day. MrsTemple found the recipe in Clean Eating magazine. Despite its suspiciously ‘health-conscious’ approach, the mag is surprisingly full of delicious recipes. I’d recommend it, as it is for food-lovers, not weight-losers.

Spicy Oven-Dried Beef Jerky

Makes 12 oz (about 50 pieces). Hands-on time: 1 hour. Total time: 10 hours.
Nutrients per serving (2 large strips): Calories: 27, Total Fat: 1 g, Sat. Fat: 0 g, Carbs: 1 g, Fiber:0 g, Sugars: 1 g, Protein: 4g. Sodium: 92 mg, Cholesterol: 8 mg

Ingredients

• 2 lb eye of round beef roast, flank steak or London broil, trimmed of visible fat
• 2/3 cup low-sodium soy sauce
• 2/3 cup 1/6 cup low-sodium Worcestershire sauce (1:1 worcestershire to soy is way too much, use 1/4 of the amount of low-sodium soy, and it’s delicious.)
• 1 tbsp raw honey (Rather than honey, I used the same amount of brown sugar.)
• 2 tsp fresh ground black pepper
• 1 tsp onion powder
• 1 tsp garlic powder
• 1 tsp red pepper flakes
• 1 tsp smoked paprika or liquid smoke, optional (I used smoked paprika)

Instructions

ONE: If using a large roast or steak, slice beef into 2 or 3 equal pieces. Wrap beef in plastic wrap and place in freezer for about 1 hour to ease slicing. Remove from freezer and transfer to a cutting board. Using only the tip of a chef’s knife, slice beef along the grain into equal 1/8-inch-thick strips.

TWO: Meanwhile, prepare marinade. In a 2-cup measure, whisk remaining ingredients and, if desired, paprika, until smooth.

THREE: Transfer beef to a large, heavy-duty zip-top bag. Pour marinade into bag, seal tightly and turn
to coat beef. Lay flat in refrigerator and marinate for 3 to 6 hours, turning bag 1 to 2 times (NOTE: Do not exceed 6 hours).

FOUR: Line a large baking sheet with 2 sheets paper towel. Remove beef from bag, shaking or gently wringing each strip to remove excess marinade. Transfer to baking sheet and cover with additional 2 sheets paper towel. Press down through towel to flatten strips and absorb as much marinade as possible. Remove oven racks and place a foil drip pan in bottom of oven, or line bottom with foil. Preheat oven to lowest setting, 140 to 170°F.

FIVE: Thread skewers through 1 end of strips, leaving 1 inch between each strip. Lay skewers horizontally across 1 oven rack. Transfer rack to highest position in oven, allowing strips to hang without touching oven walls. Close oven, propping door open a crack with a small, dry, rolled-up dish towel or a wooden spoon. (NOTE: This is necessary to allow moisture to escape from the oven; the oven temperature is low enough that this is not a fire danger.) Cook for 5 hours.

SIX: Check strips for doneness; remove dry, hard and darkened pieces from skewers and place on a cooling rack. Cook remaining strips for 1 to 2 hours, checking often for doneness. Transfer to cooling racks. When strips are fully cooled, transfer to airtight containers and store upright at room temperature for up to 2 months (NOTE: Do not pack strips tightly). Discard strips that show signs of spoilage (mold or unpleasant odor) over time.

SEVEN: Devour. Then, imagine limitless flavour possibilities. Next time we make this (which will be soon), we’re going to try a curry-spiced variety.    

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I remember when you could get both seedless and true watermelon. I remember trying the seedless version. It was but a pale shadow of the vibrantly red, beautifully sweet, and deliciously refreshing true seeded wonder-food.

A true watermelon was pure ambrosia for a child. Similar in colour and property to the high-octane hummingbird food which fuels their unbounded energy, a watermelon served as the perfect pit-stop for young racing machines. Whether participating at the Picnic Grand Prix, the Baseball 500, or the Beach Superspeedway, every nanosecond spent on pit-row eating or drinking meant that you were missing out on everything that was going on.

In this way, watermelon seemed as if it were purpose engineered to suit the needs of youth. Not only would it provide both requirements of life, sugar and liquid, but your last piece could be taken on the go, shaving precious moments off your down-time.

We were made for each other.

That your hands, face, chest, and right forearm from elbow toward wrist would be smeared with stickiness was inconsequential to a kid. It would be washed off by the next plunge, or covered up by a film of dirt, or perhaps neither. To paraphrase a line from Predator: “Ain’t got time to clean”. It’s not that a conscious decision was made by an elite commando to ignore his wound, nor does a kid intentionally ignore the slathering of gluey juice, rather it simply isn’t on the radar of ‘Things That Are Important Right Now’.

Of course, when that final wedge was finished, you were left with a rind of the perfect size and weight that needed to be hucked into the woods/lake/ocean or sometimes onto the roof. It was food after-all, so it wasn’t littering.

Never throw away a whole watermelon.

When it came to devouring habits, there were two kinds, seed spitters and seed eaters. Kids are universally attracted to any endeavour where normal taboos become socially acceptable; the spitting of watermelon seeds is no exception. However for many, that activity required far too much care and attention to be bothered with.

When you reach a certain age, around eight or so, you’ve pretty well figured out the world. You don’t worry that swallowing the seeds will result in a watermelon growing out of your belly any more than you worry that swallowed gum stays in your stomach for seven years. That’s first-grade stuff. You’re immune to the legends and mythology of watermelons, even if you can’t help but visualize a green vine sprouting out of your belly button each time you crunch down on a big black seed and swallow it. The fact that you don’t eat too far down the rind has much more to do with the nutritive content and huckability of the leftover than with any childish worry that eating too much rind will immediately give you a stomach ache and diarrhea.

There’s more to a watermelon than just its value as sustinance. Even the long, oblong shape of a true watermelon implied a cornucopia of happiness. For days upon days you could cut off a round, seemingly without changing the size or shape of the remainder. The uniformity of each piece was comforting. It was as if the watermelon itself was unconcerned with beginnings and ends, rather it would reinforce the eternity of Summer Vacation through its unwavering consistency.

Neither the anticipatory opening cap of the watermelon, nor the inherently mournful nature of the end of a watermelon capture its true spirit. Emotionality aside, the very shape of each is somewhat dictatorially prescriptive it its available means of slicing and partaking. No, instead it is the middle-part which itself is the watermelon. It is the sweetest and juiciest part, the section in which the fruit-to-rind ratio is maximal, where the geometry of slicing depends upon the mood of the day, rather than upon the needs dictated by the end cap.

Important decisions have to be made which have subtle, yet deep effects on the entire experience. The differences between an extra-thick sixth of a round and a thin twelfth of a round are profound. One can cut methodically, carefully cutting for most efficient eating, or one can take a more free-spirited approach, allowing the knife to expose the sculpture hiding within the fruit. That watermelon can be custom-tailored to suit your exact mood, plays no small part in the everlasting love we have for it.

Play With Your Food

With the seedless facsimile, just as you enter the middle section, just as your sense-memories begin to transport you back in time, the watermelon has already begun to taper off to an end. Lost is its elongated shape, and with that we’ve also lost that time-stretching magic that the middle part of a true watermelon can conjure. Is it that the world is too fast-paced for endless watermelon, or perhaps the other way around? Has the shortening periodicity of our activities contributed to the breakneck speed of life? Could it be that we can extend our Summers, our lives, with something as simple as a true watermelon?

Today though, things are different. In our adulthood, watermelon is no longer the beautifully sticky, pink highlighter which once underscored important events of the days of high adventure that were our Summer Vacations.

The Gilded Age of Watermelon

For many of us watermelon has become a curio, a niche food for summertime barbecues, a fruit we enjoy, but no longer one that fuels the child within us. We eat seedless watermelon, and we enjoy it. Perhaps though, only because we’ve forgotten what a true watermelon tastes like, forgotten its power to change us and how we experience the world.

For me though, when I tuck into a delicious seedless watermelon, I don’t notice anything missing. I still feel sense-memories of its seeded cousin. I am still transported back to the days of carefree and timeless Julys, of the sharp tangy smell of swimming pools mixed with the thickly sweet odour of cut grass, of salted brows, darkly tanned necks, and leathered feet. And yet, each time I reach the rind on a piece of seedless watermelon, I can’t help but wonder:

Is there more?    

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