Happy Belated Easter!

This is my Easter Ham and I think it's just lovely. That is all. Hope everyone had an Easter full of good news (He is risen) and great food (like the ham pictured above). Buen provecho.

Super Easy Coconut Curry Chicken Recipe

Last night I set Instagram ablaze with this recipe (20 likes!), but rather than float the recipe into the sea of comments (6 total including mine!), I figured you could get to it much easier if I posted here. I used chicken breasts, but any protein will do (a meaty fish like turbot works very well). If you do make it, constructive criticism/regular criticism is welcome in the comments. Buen provecho.

Easy Ass Coconut Curry Chicken

Ingredients:

1.5 to 2 lb boneless, skinless chicken breasts

1 tbsp vegetable oil

1/2 cup onion, diced

1 tbsp red curry paste

1 cup chicken broth

1/2 cup light coconut milk

2 tbsp lime juice

5 scallions, green parts only, sliced

Roughly chopped cilantro, about 1/2 cup

Salt and pepper to taste

Preparation:

Heat oil in your biggest skillet on high. While the pan heats, cube the chicken and add to pan when oil shimmers. Toss in some salt and pepper, brown the chicken, then remove from pan. Add onions and cook until translucent or slightly browned, then add curry paste and cook until fragrant. Stir in chicken stock, coconut milk, and cooked chicken, then let the broth cook down until desired consistency. Remove from heat, stir in lime juice, scallions, and cilantro. Add more salt and pepper to taste. Serve over steamed spinach if your metabolism runs at a snail's pace and you're sentenced to a miserable life of not eating carbohydrates. Otherwise, serve over a bed of delicious basmati rice.

The Easiest Paella Recipe Ever

Until I realized that being Mexican is actually super awesome*, I would lie and say I was Spanish.  Not that being Spanish made you any less of an outsider in Utah, but bullfighting was definitely more acceptable than low riders (it's a footrace regarding which one is cooler).  I suppose it's not a total lie, but the details on my ancestry are foggy, and that commercial where the white people open up a laptop and have their entire family history after a few clicks is bullshit.  What does it all mean?  Nothing, really.  It's just a roundabout way to introduce you to the easiest paella recipe ever made.  Step-by-step photo instructions after the jump.

The Martini Experiment

Martini on a high chair. Father of the year.

A recent visit from a couple with no kids inspired Mrs. Gastro and I to try out the Southern tradition of cocktails at 6pm.  If you're like them and your list of responsibilities is a little shorter than ours, I highly recommend following suit.  It's a great way to start the evening, and it'll slice the edge off cleaner than the sharpest of Japanese cutlery.  If you happen to have two or more kids, however, the 6pm cocktail hour plays out like a grown-up version of an after-school special. You forget about the meat on the grill, the macaroni for the kids boils to mush because you shifted your attention to the cocktail shaker, and the whole host of shit you need to do once you've finished your neglected dinner is still waiting for you three days later.  With the bender complete, it's safe to say that the martini experiment was as big a failure as my unfortunate run-in with Four Loko couple years back.  Martinis are delicious, but it's probably wise to save it for when the kids are in college and you need to self-medicate to forget about how much it's costing you.  Buen provecho.

My Toddler is Cooler Than Your Toddler

With the advent of technology and the whole "civilization" thing, I no longer have to spend the day hunting to put dinner on the table.  The upside of this arrangement is not getting eaten by a lion.  The downside is that our food is often hyper-processed, with nutrition losing to convenience nine times out of ten.  I've always said that I'm an equal opportunity eater, and I believe that there's a time and a place to eat shit, but I would be very happy if my children didn't make the same mistakes I made, sentencing them to a life wrought with self-consciouness and ill-fitting pants.

Whether or not it's a lucky break, I'm thankful that we're off to a good start.  This past Sunday after our first trip to Elevation Burger (patties needed salt but they might have Five Guys beat in the fry department), I made an Indian-spiced salmon topped with a yogurt sauce, and Toddler Gastro smiled after her first bite and asked for more.  She also ate her broccoli.  This kid rules, and the whole experience was made even better by the fact that it was super easy to cook, so processed foods can suck it.  Buen provecho.

Tortilla Soup All Up in Your Face

Tortilla Soup isn't just my mother-in-law's favorite movie, it's also a soup, and when the cold wind blows through your uninsulated 1800s-era home, it's a welcome wintertime meal.  Growing up, Ma and Pa Gastro opted for pozole and/or chile verde, so I had little experience with the movie soup in my own kitchen.  I did make a shitty batch of it in the early 2000s, but that was so two thousand and late, so I decided to make it again, and this time it was two thousand and great.  I recommend you try it for yourself.  It was a nice way to spend a Saturday afternoon, and there was plenty left over to get out of cooking on Sunday.  Recipe after the jump.  Buen provecho.

Super Timely New Year's Eve Post

I saw something on TV that said if you eat like a pauper on New Year's Eve, you'll eat like a king for the rest of the year.  The classic dish to make is black-eyed peas, but no matter how hard I try to like them, they taste like mushy sand.  They also remind me of the band with the blind guy and the creepy ass dude that dances in the background and whose race is impossible to discern.  Struggling with an idea for poor people food, I happened upon mussels.  At three bucks a pound, they're the 99-cent value menu of shellfish, and at the Top of Hill Seafood Market in Chestnut Hill, they'll even clean them for you, making them that much easier to prepare.  Just saute some shallots and garlic, deglaze the pot with wine, then add the mussels and steam until they open up.  Then drink your face off with all of the booze your guests brought you and give yourself a high five for making such an awesome poor people dish.  Buen provecho.

So What Did You Do With Your Peck of Apples?

Although I may lack the scalp sheen and creepiness of the Sweet Genius guy, it turns out I'm a bit of a sweet genius myself.  How so, you ask?  Well, I just used most of the apples the Gastros picked to make a pie from scratch for the first time.  Since I nailed it, I'm gonna go ahead and hoist that title belt above my head while you guys enjoy the first installment of "Straight Guy Stuff."  Fabulous Baker Bros, you too can harness the power of the pastry, and if you do it while wearing a backwards hat and sports team apparel, nobody will accuse you of being a dandy.  Buen provecho.

I Am an International Rap Superstar

I'm definitely late to the party on this one, but I just discovered that Eater has spent the past two years interviewing bands in a recurring post called Sound Cheque. Typically–and I'm only judging from the headlines and photos–the bands are like, "Tacos rule but there's not much time to eat on the road and my hair only looks like I don't shower and blah, blah, blah."  Pretty cool stuff, right?  Well, I decided to take the concept in a new direction. Instead of interviewing other people who make music, I made some music of my own, and the music is about food, specifically, falafel. From a box.  Part freestyle, part written, all talent, I present to you, "The Falafel Sessions."  Buen provecho.

The Second Annual Pathmark Lobster Special Home Cooking Event

I hate fireworks.  I know that may knock me down a few degrees on the bromometer, but sudden loud noises and the potential for being someone with an awkward handshake after a short fuse mishap keeps me as far away from the rocket's red glare as possible.  So, I've begun a new 4th of July tradition, cooking lobsters.  Last year, I tried my hand at grilling them, and although successful, I wasn't too impressed at the way they turned out.  This year, we are also contending with a very curious and very needy two-year old, so we needed to take the shells out of the equation.  Enter the lobster roll.  Boil and shuck the lobsters the night before, and defer the fruits of your labor until lunchtime the next day.  Mine was a simple preparation, a spoonful of mayonnaise for roughly a pound of meat, a squeeze of lemon, and some salt and pepper.  Not being able to find New England style split-top buns (the ones that look like a piece of Wonder bread folded in half), I opted for Martin's potato rolls, which were buttered and griddled to give them some reinforcement.  Served with corn on the cob, the lobster roll beats the shit out of donning a bib and fighting with your food while being judged by a full dining room.  Buen provecho.

Pumpkin Ale for My Real Friends, Pumpkin Real for My Ale Friends

A very happy new year, dear readers.  In my quest to become a raging alcoholic beer nerd, I have invested a significant amount of time, brain cells, and money on craft beers with neat labels and myriad uses of the word "hops."  I regret none of this, but it's nice to have a bone thrown your way every now and again, so I'd like to give a nod to reader Matt for saving me a bottle of homebrewed pumpkin ale from a batch he and his friends made back in the fall.  Being raised in the good ol' U-S-of-A, I prefer my beers to be ozone-hole-burning cold and soda-pop-fizzy, and this was a great example of that. 

Typically, homebrews err on the side of flatness, making you feel like you're drinking a beer you poured last night but couldn't finish so you put it in the fridge for consumption today because you are too cheap to toss it out.  But this beer, surviving a week in the fridge, was extra cold and nicely carbonated.  You could taste the nutmeg, but it wasn't so overpowering as to remind you of the time you tried to hallucinate/poison yourself by eating a spice jar of it, and it had a malty finish.  Even Bob, a beer nerd before being a beer nerd was cool, gave it the seal of approval.  Buen provecho.

Lazy-O!

Check out Rachael Ray's awesome recipe for "Late Night Bacon." I can't wait until midnight tonight to fire up the microwave. Buen provecho.

P.S. Rachael Ray, please kill yourself.

Beginner's (Un)luck

 This is my shitty ass garden.  It was not organic.  It was also not very successful.  Granted, this was my first attempt at channeling Kingsolver/Pollan/hippies in general, but I make no excuse other than I am equal parts lazy and easily distracted.  Plus, gardening is super hard when you're not paid to write about it.  Hopefully either myself or one of you readers will learn from my mistakes.  Here's what not to do when planting a garden:

1. Do not just go to the hardware store and buy a bunch of crap (who really needs two basil plants?).
2. Do not select a location beneath huge black walnut trees that provide lots of shade and danger in the autumn months.
3. Do not just dig up a patch of grass in the backyard on a whim.
4. Do not take weeks off at a time from watering your garden.
5. Do not plant tomatoes within inches of each other.

I don't have any tips for a successful garden, but at a minimum, I would recommend a smidge more planning before your shovel hits the dirt.  Good luck future green thumbs.  Buen provecho.

Lemonade out of Lemons: Pathmark's Lobster Special

Betting that the blowout sale was primarily a function of the Memorial Day mass exodus and not because they were poisonous, I scooped up three lobsters at $5.99 per pound and upped the fancy ante for Mrs. Gastro and the Gastro-in-laws this past weekend.  It was my first time grilling lobsters, which is somewhat labor intensive, and consequently requires more sobriety than usual at 4pm on a holiday Sunday.  I overcooked the claws (might be a good idea to snap them off before grilling), but the butter-basted tails were resplendent. The crowd agreed that it felt like being down the shore, even though we were nowhere near it.*  Four days later, there have been no complaints about getting sick, so the bet paid off, and I can now add grilled lobsters to my wheelhouse, although I'll probably wait until the next lobster fire sale to do it again. Buen provecho.

Grilled Lobster, adapted (mostly stolen) from Kim Knox Beckius
How ever many lobsters you want to cook (I made three 1-1 1/4# chickens)
3 tbsp butter
Juice of 1 lemon
1 tsp lemon zest
Granulated garlic, salt, and pepper to taste

Bring a stockpot full of salted water to boil. Drop the lobsters in, two at a time, and boil for 5-7 minutes. Remove from water and let cool.  Meanwhile, melt butter and combine with lemon juice, zest, and granulated garlic, salt, and pepper. When lobsters are no longer too hot to handle (nor too cold to hold), use a chef's knife to split the lobsters in half. The easiest way to do so is to stab between the eyes and then rotate the knife down and into the rest of the body. Rinse out the tomalley, pat the halves dry, and baste the tails with the lemon-garlic butter. Place the prepared halves on a heated grill, shell-side down, for another 8-10 minutes, or until meat is white and opaque. Serve with the rest of the lemon-garlic butter, grilled corn on the cob, and whatever else you fancy. We had potato salad and some ridiculous skillet macaroni and cheese. Save the shells to make stock, use the stock to make risotto, extend the fancy bender.

*Conversation may not have occurred

Magnificent Mexican Mush

While the rest of the world is busy being tasered and/or trying to blow up Times Square (dumbasses), I'm using the Mexican holiday that only Americans celebrate as an excuse for some home cooking in front of the camera. Please enjoy this simple recipe for the best guacamole you will ever taste. What's that you say? Guacamole on Cinco de Mayo? Wow, that's original! Buen provecho.

Seriously, the Best Guacamole You Will Ever Taste
2 avocados, cubed
1/4 medium onion, diced
1/4 medium tomato, diced
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 jalapeno, seeds and ribs removed, diced
Juice of 1 lime
Salt and pepper to taste
Cilantro, if you don't think it tastes like soap

Dump all ingredients in a bowl, mash and stir with a fork using whatever technique you think looks cool.  Drink a shot of tequila, then serve with your choice of tortilla chips (except the baked ones; they suck).

Julie & Julia & Julio

Last year's Valentine's Day experience, while not a complete disappointment, was still enough to convince us that cooking at home is the better option on amateur night, so when I saw a hunk of shrinkwrapped chuck roast  at Pathmark, I figured I would try my hand at boeuf bourguignon.  If a six-foot tall lady played by Meryl Streep can do it side-by-side with a food blogger-cum-writer from Queens played by Amy Adams in a really crappy movie, then why couldn't I?  Shit, I could blog about it, too, and change my name to Julio (pronounced "JOO-lee-oh" like this Puerto Rican dude I used to know who really should have stuck with "HOO-lee-oh"), and we can all have a laugh at the parody of it all.

And that's exactly what happened, except I didn't execute very well.  The sauce was flavorful, but the meat was leathery, even after a long and leisurely wine jacuzzi.  The snap judgment--something I'm really good at--is that I suck at braising.  If there's anyone out there that can drop some knowledge about how cooking liquid is supposed to look when you're simmering, please do so.  In the meantime, here's some insight based on hindsight:

1. Make this the day before so you have an easier time skimming the fat.  I skipped this step.  I don't think it helped matters.
2. Clear your schedule. This recipe's a time burglar.
3. Attempting to talk in Julia Child's voice while making this dish does not improve the final product.
4. Watching the movie Julie & Julia doesn't make you a good cook. It just makes you wish you had those hours of your life back.

Best of luck if you decide to give it a shot.  I know I didn't sell it well, but in the end, I had a lot of fun screwing up this recipe.  Plus, it was wonderfully comfortable given the shitty weather.  We served it with slow roasted potatoes dusted with a spice bag I brought home from Morocco, and finally opened up the bottle of Pride 2005 Cabernet Franc that we got on our honeymoon.  Mrs. Gastro has taken to baking cakes, and she made my favorite, yellow with chocolate frosting.  It was a perfect ending to a not-so-perfect meal.  Happy belated Valentine's day.  Buen provecho.

I Am Your Drunk Uncle: Egg Nog

(Apologies for the lack of timeliness on this one)

"Hey, it's the guy that makes the egg nog!"

If this is what you aspire to, continue reading.  If it's not, enjoy your much less flavorful and definitely less rock 'n' roll carton of the storebought stuff.  For the adventurous and attention-starved, you would be surprised how simple it is to prepare egg nog from a dozen eggs, some heavy cream, milk, sugar, and nutmeg, resulting in applause from all who imbibe.  If you can execute, it's a foolproof way to flex some culinary muscle.  I've been making Cyril Collins' recipe for a couple years now, and according to my monther-in-law, it's the best she's ever had:




Start by separating the eggs.  Whisk the yolks with sugar, beat the whites until stiff (and get your minds out of the gutter), combine with the milk, heavy cream, and the booze of your choosing (I opted for a cup each of Sailor Jerry and Jim Beam), dust with nutmeg, and do your best not to puke all over your gay apparel (man, this would have been so much funnier around Christmastime).  Then forget to write about it until after the New Year.  Then forget that you already (sort of) wrote about it a year ago.  Then wish your reader(s) a merry belated Christmas.  Buen provecho.

Squanto Ain't Got Shit On Me: Turkey Day

Holidays kick ass on many levels, but at the top of my list is always the copious amounts of food and spirits, and the way things have gone down in the households I've been a part of, consumption of said food and spirits usually transpires while wearing pants with an elastic waistband.  It puts the comfort in comfort food.  It also saves you from that whole cliche of eating too much and then having to undo buttons that really shouldn't be undone in public.  Even if your family says they don't mind, they're all re-thinking your place setting at next year's table.  Luckily for me, elastic pants or otherwise, my indispensable roles as both stuffing stud and turkey titan (wow, those are both horrible) have hopefully secured me an invite for many years to come, even if I decide to stop wearing pants altogether.

This year I opted for what I'm sure was everybody's alternative to Alton Brown's brining method (which has slayed in the past), the dry-brine (or cure, for all the hair-splitters on Chow.com).  The thought had popped into my head after reading an article by Drew Lazor over at Meal Ticket.  In fact, my man was even the first to respond on Twitter that this has been done before (in Vail, CO, likely sometime between skiing and skiing).  Salting the cumbersome holiday bird and letting it sit in the fridge seemed a lot easier than immersing it in gallons of vegetable stock in a cooler, then balancing it on top of whatever you can find in the garage so the bird will stay submerged for however many hours.  Turns out I wasn't the only one with the idea this year, and the NY Times was gracious enough to both lend me a recipe and make me look like I was jumping on some sort of bandwagon.

So last Saturday, I picked up my naturally raised bird from Fair Food Farmstand and gave it a nice rubdown with salt before throwing it in the fridge for four days (I got stuck with a nineteen lb bird so it needed some time).  I won't bore you with more details, but as you can see, it turned out beautifully, more likely because I got a little nutty with a stick of butter than any method of making the meat more succulent.  Underneath this golden brown dermis resided somewhat of a disappointment, however.  The meat was juicy and flavorful, but nowhere near what I had experienced when I used the same method on the chicken.  Compared to the wet brined turkeys of years past, I prefer this method, but at the end of the day, I didn't taste too much of a difference.  The real game changer was the bird's size.  I just don't like working with such a big bird.  I think next year's festivities will involve two small birds (and perhaps a deep fryer).

On the side should have been a delicious giblet gravy (just look at that stocky goodness), but I really shit the bed on that one.  I need to find some sort of sauce class, or at least get a fat separator.  My attempt at transforming the drippings into something magical and horrible for you ended in Mrs. Gastro saying, "Well, I can taste the grease and the booze from the wine, but that's about it."

My other signature, a pound of sausage intermingled with processed cubes of cornbread and aromatics, came out a tad dry, but still gorgeous and about as Thanksgiving-y as you can get.  And on that note, here's hoping you and yours had a blessed and delicious holiday.  Buen provecho.

To the (not quite 5th place) Victor Go the Spoils

If they had actually tasted the "fajita" roast beef sandwich (not saying they didn't), I'm sure the outcome would have been much more favorable, but I gotta give it up to the folks at Vincent Giordano for softening the "you suck on camera and you're ugly" blow with a $25 American Express gift card. Buen provecho.

Pork Tacos, Bike Shorts

Behold the first (and probably last) installment of "Cooking in Bike Shorts." This episode features a very well filmed (thanks, Mrs. Gastro) but horribly produced (way to drop the ball, self) segment of me making the Homesick Texan's carnitas recipe. Since I do a shit job of explaining what it is that I'm making, I've included the recipe below.

Carnitas is one of my favorite ways to prepare pork, and I love the simplicity of these tacos: a warm corn tortilla is the vehicle for a handful of carnitas, onions, a squeeze of lime, cilantro, and salsa (if you like). I could eat fifty in one sitting. I used to get them at a place called Panaderia La Diana in Salt Lake City for a buck each. It was a tortilla bakery with a small kitchen tucked into a corner of the building, the stuff of legend. I couldn't exactly replicate the flavors, but I think I came pretty damn close. Buen provecho.



Carnitas (adapted from Diana Kennedy)
Ingredients:
3 pounds of pork butt
1 cup of orange juice
3 cups of water
2 teaspoons of salt

Method:
1. Cut pork into strips (three inches by one inch), add to a large pot with the liquids and salt. Bring to a boil and then simmer uncovered on low for 2 hours. Do not touch the meat.
2. After two hours, turn heat up to medium high, and continue to cook until all the liquid has evaporated and the pork fat has rendered (about 45 minutes). Stir a few times, to keep pork from sticking to bottom of pan.
3. When pork has browned on both sides, it’s ready (there will be liquid fat in the pan). Serve either cubed or shredded (pork will be tender enough that just touching it will cause it to fall apart).Goes very well with a green salsas such as Ninfa's green sauce or this tomatillo salsa or this salsa verde with avocados and tomatillos.

Serves 4-6