Hipster Brussels Sprouts
I just made really good dinner. And I thought I'd share. For a few reasons: I'm obsessed with braising, I want to teach you about a point of traditional French cuisine, and I have successfully and satisfyingly substituted something for bacon in a recipe that usually calls for it.
I've been making a bunch of braises recently; they're really easy, they're really tasty, they use only one pan, and they're good for you and for a bunch of different foods. One of my major strategies has been just to caramelize the hell out of some onions, and use that as the basis for tasty braisy insta-stock.
But I've been looking to branch out into other directions, as well as searching for recipes for vegetarian cassoulet. My friends who are dedicated to pork products (hi, latemodel!) will aver that the very thought of vegetarian cassoulet is an abomination,* and indeed I am tempted to invoke the bacon exception---especially in light of a number of other exceptions (parental, happy-animal, and somebody-else-is-paying) to my somewhat less-than-total vegetarian proclivities. (To wit, when a friend of mine informed me he had cured his own bacon at home, I promptly demanded to be fed said bacon.) But I'm looking for ways of not giving into different exceptions.
So before I made a totally vegetarian cassoulet which would leave all involved dissatisfied and myself both dissatisfied and deflated, and as a way of branching out my braising, I decided tonight I would experiment with mirepoix. Mirepoix is the starting point for a huge number of traditional French dishes, many of which I'm not in the habit of eating (braised veal head is not my cup of tea, even when I'm eating meat).
Now, traditional mirepoix, strictly speaking, is onion, carrot, and celery only. But in the wild, and especially in cassoulet, mirepoix finds itself alloyed with garlic, herbs (usually thyme and parsley, but also possibly rosemary, oregano, sage, etc.), and, especially, cured pork products. It's that rich bacony goodness that cassoulet requires that I was aiming at, and I think I did pretty well. (And for such things, fake bacon [=industrial chemistry] won't cut it, not even close. I'm tempted to say something like vegetarians need fake bacon like a fish needs a bicycle, but that would be abusing that metaphor.)
So, what I came up with, after some internet research: Use a little extra olive oil, a few kalamata olives, and just a few drops of liquid smoke (okay, apparently I'm not that opposed to food chemistry). It's subtle, and it doesn't taste like bacon. But it gives the food a different kind of really satisfying salty smoky richness.
The reason these are hipster brussels sprouts is that I decided I needed to braise them in something other than water, if I was going to put the work into the experimenting with the mirepoix. And so, I decided that brussels sprouts + mirepoix + beer would be just fantastic. And what beer did I have sitting in my fridge? PBR.
Yes, folks, I made vegetarian mirepoix + PBR braised brussels sprouts. PBR is actually kind of the perfect beer for this, although something like Sam Adams would probably work well. (PBR is secretly not shitty beer; it's just cheap. Although, to be fair, I'm not claiming it's good.) It's full-bodied without being overbearing, not at all hoppy, and a little bit sweet.
HIPSTER BRUSSELS SPROUTS
1 small onion
2 small carrots
1 large celery stalk
(NB: The ratio for mirepoix is about 2 parts onion to 1 part each carrot and celery, this really depends on the size of veggies you're using.)
~6 sprigs each of parsley and thyme
4 kalamata olives, pitted
2 large cloves galic
> 1/4 tsp liquid smoke (I imagine this will vary depending on how concentrated your liquid smoke is)
2 small tomatoes, diced
1 lb brussels sprouts
~6oz PBR
1. Make the mirepoix: dice very finely: onion, carrot, celery, olives, garlic. In a large skillet over medium heat with a perhaps overly healthy amount of olive oil, salt and pepper and a maybe a few shakes of dried herbes de provence, sweat the veggies + herbs + liquid smoke. Don't overcook them; soften them, don't pulverize them. (I'd guess about 5 minutes, possibly less.) Once you've softened the veggies, remove the herbs from the pan.
2. Add the brussels sprouts. Clean & halve the brussels sprouts. Really big ones, you might want to cut into thirds or quarters. Turn the heat up to medium-high, and lightly brown the outside of the brussels sprouts. (Tongs are really useful for this.)
3. Once they're browned, start the braise. Add the tomatoes (dice them), beer, and about 4 oz. water. Simmer until brussels sprouts are just tender all the way through and the liquid has reduced to a really flavorful sauce; it will be slightly thick. (I'm guessing about 10-15 minutes, but I'm bad at the whole timing thing; I just know when things are done. Keep checking.)
Serve over brown rice, and garnish with minced parsley. Serves 2 for dinner. Preferably in front of a reasonably kitschy 70s movie. Perhaps The China Syndrome.
Apologies for the at-times fuzzy instructions; it's when I try to narrate what I've done that I realize how much I proceed by touch and feel and smell and tooth.
* To be totally fair here, no cassoulet any sane person would make at home is real cassoulet, anyway. It involves bacon and duck confit and sausage and frequently pork shoulder. And whatever other parts of ducks, pigs, and geese you have lying around. And it takes days to make. So even my "real" cassoulet isn't real. And never will be. I'm not totally crazy.
Nom.
I've been making a bunch of braises recently; they're really easy, they're really tasty, they use only one pan, and they're good for you and for a bunch of different foods. One of my major strategies has been just to caramelize the hell out of some onions, and use that as the basis for tasty braisy insta-stock.
But I've been looking to branch out into other directions, as well as searching for recipes for vegetarian cassoulet. My friends who are dedicated to pork products (hi, latemodel!) will aver that the very thought of vegetarian cassoulet is an abomination,* and indeed I am tempted to invoke the bacon exception---especially in light of a number of other exceptions (parental, happy-animal, and somebody-else-is-paying) to my somewhat less-than-total vegetarian proclivities. (To wit, when a friend of mine informed me he had cured his own bacon at home, I promptly demanded to be fed said bacon.) But I'm looking for ways of not giving into different exceptions.
So before I made a totally vegetarian cassoulet which would leave all involved dissatisfied and myself both dissatisfied and deflated, and as a way of branching out my braising, I decided tonight I would experiment with mirepoix. Mirepoix is the starting point for a huge number of traditional French dishes, many of which I'm not in the habit of eating (braised veal head is not my cup of tea, even when I'm eating meat).
Now, traditional mirepoix, strictly speaking, is onion, carrot, and celery only. But in the wild, and especially in cassoulet, mirepoix finds itself alloyed with garlic, herbs (usually thyme and parsley, but also possibly rosemary, oregano, sage, etc.), and, especially, cured pork products. It's that rich bacony goodness that cassoulet requires that I was aiming at, and I think I did pretty well. (And for such things, fake bacon [=industrial chemistry] won't cut it, not even close. I'm tempted to say something like vegetarians need fake bacon like a fish needs a bicycle, but that would be abusing that metaphor.)
So, what I came up with, after some internet research: Use a little extra olive oil, a few kalamata olives, and just a few drops of liquid smoke (okay, apparently I'm not that opposed to food chemistry). It's subtle, and it doesn't taste like bacon. But it gives the food a different kind of really satisfying salty smoky richness.
The reason these are hipster brussels sprouts is that I decided I needed to braise them in something other than water, if I was going to put the work into the experimenting with the mirepoix. And so, I decided that brussels sprouts + mirepoix + beer would be just fantastic. And what beer did I have sitting in my fridge? PBR.
Yes, folks, I made vegetarian mirepoix + PBR braised brussels sprouts. PBR is actually kind of the perfect beer for this, although something like Sam Adams would probably work well. (PBR is secretly not shitty beer; it's just cheap. Although, to be fair, I'm not claiming it's good.) It's full-bodied without being overbearing, not at all hoppy, and a little bit sweet.
HIPSTER BRUSSELS SPROUTS
1 small onion
2 small carrots
1 large celery stalk
(NB: The ratio for mirepoix is about 2 parts onion to 1 part each carrot and celery, this really depends on the size of veggies you're using.)
~6 sprigs each of parsley and thyme
4 kalamata olives, pitted
2 large cloves galic
> 1/4 tsp liquid smoke (I imagine this will vary depending on how concentrated your liquid smoke is)
2 small tomatoes, diced
1 lb brussels sprouts
~6oz PBR
1. Make the mirepoix: dice very finely: onion, carrot, celery, olives, garlic. In a large skillet over medium heat with a perhaps overly healthy amount of olive oil, salt and pepper and a maybe a few shakes of dried herbes de provence, sweat the veggies + herbs + liquid smoke. Don't overcook them; soften them, don't pulverize them. (I'd guess about 5 minutes, possibly less.) Once you've softened the veggies, remove the herbs from the pan.
2. Add the brussels sprouts. Clean & halve the brussels sprouts. Really big ones, you might want to cut into thirds or quarters. Turn the heat up to medium-high, and lightly brown the outside of the brussels sprouts. (Tongs are really useful for this.)
3. Once they're browned, start the braise. Add the tomatoes (dice them), beer, and about 4 oz. water. Simmer until brussels sprouts are just tender all the way through and the liquid has reduced to a really flavorful sauce; it will be slightly thick. (I'm guessing about 10-15 minutes, but I'm bad at the whole timing thing; I just know when things are done. Keep checking.)
Serve over brown rice, and garnish with minced parsley. Serves 2 for dinner. Preferably in front of a reasonably kitschy 70s movie. Perhaps The China Syndrome.
Apologies for the at-times fuzzy instructions; it's when I try to narrate what I've done that I realize how much I proceed by touch and feel and smell and tooth.
* To be totally fair here, no cassoulet any sane person would make at home is real cassoulet, anyway. It involves bacon and duck confit and sausage and frequently pork shoulder. And whatever other parts of ducks, pigs, and geese you have lying around. And it takes days to make. So even my "real" cassoulet isn't real. And never will be. I'm not totally crazy.
Nom.