Homemade egg noodles
Homemade (at Tony's) beef stock from bones.
Sirloin. I think. Two proper steaks. You don't do this to proper steaks but I'm doing it anyway.
The steak is done and perfectly good to eat right now,
Water added, pressure cooked to softness.
Twenty minutes later the dough is a different substance. It's softer and it rolls more easily.
Labels: beef and noodle soup
You got your milk and your cream and you mix your favorite things into it.
* powdered mustard
* chipotle chile powder
* garlic powder
* coarse sea salt
* freshly ground pepper
* dry oregano
* two types of random cheese in case one type isn't good enough.
Bake an hour at 400℉.
Plate, top with sour cream.
Labels: potato in cream
This is a multi-grain bread so heavy with non-gluten material that it hardly works with yeast leaven. The proportion of oatmeal and amaranth is greater than reasonable for this type of thing. The dough also has a lot of egg and a lot of butter and those things interfere with gluten development. The crumb is dense and tight and light and dry. There was no second rise. The tight crumb is like synthetic sponge.
Instructions were received by radio signal across a mini wireless speaker. It plugs in and switches to battery when needed and its bluetooth turned on itself.
You're not going to find bread like this anywhere, I don't think, if you want some you'll just have have to make it per instructions from moons around jupiter.
Plus, and this ain't nuth'n to sneeze at ...
... you'll show you know how to put out an acceptable Jovian tea.
Yellow mustard in a gigantic garish harsh yellow plastic squeeze container. The sort of thing you avoid because it's so common. It says French's but it is American as all hell broken loose. I squeezed some on my finger and taste it and the flavor is spectacular. A bit vinegar-y, but a very nice and light vinegar. And I thought, wow, this stuff should be famous. Oh. Wait. It is.
Roast beef from the deli. It's very good roast beef. Rather expensive. I like tearing into it as an animal. It's cooked perfectly. But honestly, it has hardly no flavor at all. It does need a lot of help. And I mean a lot. It is the help that makes this sandwich, not the low-flavor roast beef.
I was considering horseradish but the mustard comes very close to that and it's in the same family.
Horseradish (Armoracia rusticana, syn. Cochlearia armoracia) is a perennial plant of the Brassicaceae family (which also includes mustard, wasabi, broccoli, and cabbage).
Kaboom. Anchovies right there. Tamarind. Now who would think of that? Someone who spent time in Asia and who loves food and pursues their interest where it takes them over there.
Bread and butter pickles, and honestly, after all that these crazy things make this sandwich. The Worcestershire is spread on the bread to soak in, not on the meat where it rolls off.
Sometimes I don't know if the thing really is this outstanding or if the pleasure I have eating this is due to being so starved all the time. My body was so happy to have food it was shaking. Then had to wait to continue. Often, even so, it happens I cannot finish the whole thing but this time I kept wishing there is more.
And there is!
Labels: roast beef sandwich
The vegetables are cut so they lay flatly in the pan. The heat is high, the pan is hot, a pat of butter sizzles immediately. A lid is slapped on. The pan is tilted to distribute the butter that is 20% water and you can hear it pop and sizzle and fry in oil and steam. The pan is not shaken, the contents are not stirred. They just sit there and burn and steam. A char is put on one side of the vegetables and they are fantastic. And you must trust. You cannot see any of this.
Tomatoes are raw.
The steak is cooked as chefs do in restaurants.
How is that?
It's brutal. A poor innocent cow is cut up into pieces macabrely and expertly and its meat chunks are seared on high heat, branded again even more cruelly this time, fast and hot on both sides, then taken off, and the whole thing is still smoking dramatically, covered and allowed to rest and suffer its pain in quiet while the heat of the insanely cruel second and third branding creeps to the center of the meat without denaturing it further nor discoloring its red.
And your guests are going, "Bloody hell, how'd he do that?" And you have nothing to add beyond demonstration, "Eh, I don't know, it's a knack." This is New York steak because the cows grew up in New York. They even moo with a New York accent. Sounds like this, "Moo, get outta here."
"Where should I go?"
"Moo, I don't know.
Bos Creek, seems a lot of possibilities, just moo-oove."
Labels: NY steak
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