They Really Do Have the Meats...

Aside from Chipotle and Starbucks, I haven't eaten at a national fast food chain in, well, let's just say I can't remember the last time.  I learned too late that Arby's occasional foray into deer made a brief appearance at the newest Manhattan Arby's.  The Gothamist folks reviewed it, and very favorably.

I'm so bummed I missed it. I don't often eat venison, but I'd totally go to Arby's for this. I'd love to see more unusual meat at the nation's fast food chains. Everyone remembers Krusty Burger's Ribwich, for as long as that lasted.

One of my favorite things about my annual trip to visit my family is the opportunity to cook stuff I wouldn't otherwise make, for a willing audience of eaters.  For Christmas Eve, that thing was my first ever porchetta.  Hawaiian food culture excels at slow-roasted, super tender pork, but doing it Italian style is uncommon there.  Cook's Illustrated has an excellent recipe, involving a super-herby, garlicky paste, an overnight in the fridge to make sure the flavors get fully diffused into the meat, and a long, slow roast in the oven.

Several things went awry with this, most notably that I misread the pork shoulder we bought; I thought the B/I was a B/L.  Really easy mistake to make, who would label something that way?  But anyway, although a boneless roast would've cooked faster and been easier to carve, that was a small thing in the grand scheme. (And Big Boy, the family dog, got a nice treat in the bone.) Also I got a much later start getting it into the oven than I would've liked, resulting in a late Christmas Eve dinner.  My thanks to the family for their patience.

However, the wait was amazingly worth it.  I wish I always had time to cook like this!  The meat was just, well, perfect.  One of the best pork roasts I've ever had, anywhere.  Tender but not too tender, so flavorful, and the drippings made a phenomenal gravy.  And we had just a ton of leftovers, too.

I roasted some potatoes and onions and made a simple salad to go alongside.  And there was bread.

Like I say, this wasn't a fast recipe, and it was somewhat involved.  But it wasn't hard, and you can't argue with results as tasty as this.  I'd totally make it again the next time I need to impress people with a large hunk of flesh, perfectly roasted.

How to Get a Head in New York City

The Cannibal.  Conjuring images of human steaks and a high risk of catching kuru, I love this beer-and-meat-centric pub, sister restaurant to the late lamented (by me anyway) Resto, and the second best food thing about working in Murray Hill (proximity to Kalustyan's is number one).  I was there a couple of months ago with some work friends and we made a plan to come back for the half pig's head. Because when you see half a pig's head on a menu, I think you're sort of duty-bound to order it.

It took a while to schedule, but today was the day for it.  And it almost didn't happen!  In the interim the Cannibal took it off the lunch menu; normally it's only available as a dinner item now.   Good to know. Fortunately, the server helping us out asked in the back and they had one head (like, two half-heads) that they could make for lunch, if we were willing to wait.  And we were willing to wait.  We ordered some sausage and Brussels sprouts and other stuff, and some beer.  And lo and behold, in due course this beauty came and joined us at the table.

The Cannibal does their half pig's head General Tso's style -- lots of peppers and green onion and a sweet-and-spicy sauce with anise and Szechuan peppercorns and whatnot.  And served with some greens and thin pancakes for wrapping in. 

Wow.  I've had whole pigs a couple of times, but never dug into a head (or half a head)--we focused mainly on the rest of the animal.  And those were suckling pigs, not a grownup.  Half a pig's head is  daunting.  And carving something's face up to eat it can't help but evoke, let's call them "Lecterian" thoughts.  Especially given the name of the establishment.

 
Once we got going though, wow.  My second reaction was, it was surprisingly fatty.  I suppose I shouldn't be surprised, jowls and all.  But lots of fat.  Almost to the point where I'd say belly has nothing on face.  It was interesting from a purely anatomical perspective exploring the head to find the meaty bits (the underside, like I guess the bottom of the jaw muscles?, was particularly good.  And cheeks of course.).  I didn't really love the ear.  I have had stellar pigs' ears before, and was looking forward to this one.  But it was a little too chewy for my taste -- I like them when they are super super crisp.  Maybe a pig versus piglet, size thing?  The skin was phenomenal, though.  Despite the glaze, it was crisp and flavorful, absolutely perfect. 

Lastly I'd say that if you ever want to follow in my dining footsteps, bring a group.  We were four and ordered several other things, and the head was plenty for us.  A smaller group would definitely have had leftovers.  And as with other major carnivorous experiences, I found that all I really want for the next 24 hours or so is, like, a salad or maybe a little sushi.  Balance must be restored!

My sincere thanks to M., E., and L., for their dining adventuresomeness.  Looking forward to eating with you again!

Sous Vide Pork Tenderloin

Greetings campers.  The unpromising shrink-wrapped thing to the left of this text is a sous vide-d pork tenderloin.  A little seasoned salt, some olive oil and not much else in there with it.  The bend in it is a little weird, I'd be the first to admit, but I don't have super long bags, and I didn't want to cut the raw tenderloin in two.

Anyway, as with all things sous vide (and all things pork tenderloin, too), it's not the most exciting thing in the world to watch it cook.  But here's a shot of it cooking just the same.

Eagle-eyed readers may note that I'm using Celsius on the immersion circulator.  I was feeling European.

And below is the finished product.  One of the sides is a little roasted butternut squash I made myself, topped with some seasoning mix from Kyoto.  The other is some gratineed cauliflower, frozen from Trader Joes.  Not bad, though I'm not sure I'll run out and buy more of it.

Anyway, of all the things I've cooked in a bath so far, pork tenderloins are second only to chicken breasts as far as this is really the only way you should ever ever cook them.  It didn't take a huge long time, the meat came out perfect, and it was quick and easy to get a nice sear going via a quick visit to the skillet.  Total and unqualified success.

I am really looking forward to making another one of these!