Thursday, March 23, 2006

This One Time, at Restaurant Camp...

First, some background:

Spring break was approaching, and I wanted to try something new. I emailed a friend who'd moved to Amelia Island to start a restaurant, bought a plane ticket, and two weeks later debarked at Jacksonville Airport. Scotty's restaurant was not yet open, due to the delays that seem to be inherent in historic districts, but he'd farmed me out to his friend, Chef Richard Grove, at PLaE. PLaE is an acronym for People Laughing and Eating; it's received a great deal of favorable press (go here, here, and here). I also got to witness firsthand the minutiae of opening a restaurant, hanging out with Scotty and Mardie (his GM, and Richard's girlfriend). This is an account of my time there.




Day One:



Shortly after Scotty and I arrived at his restaurant, Richard rode up on his motorcycle. We shook hands and he said that he had some "fun" things planned for me, with a smile that implied that we might have differing opinions on what exactly "fun" entailed.




Most of the morning was spent editing the server training packet, including the wine list descriptions, the menu descriptions and the server's manual. I hadn't edited anything but schoolwork in awhile, and for a moment I got just a little nostalgic for the old office job (selling restaurant equipment).




At about noon, we undertook the most serious responsibility of a restaurateur: wine tasting. The wine rep arrived with a winery rep, and we tasted about six wines, including an old vines Syrah. Three stood out: a light-bodied white that I believe was a Fume Blanc, a red table wine, and a Cabernet that was more tannic than any I'd tasted before. I tend to stay away from tannic wines, but I was surprised to find that I didn't mind the heavy tannins. Go here for information about the wines, sold at Viola in Decatur (full disclosure: this shop is owned by a family friend).




Lunch followed, then a little more time at the restaurant. Afterwards, I took out Scotty's bike and did little exploring, annoying the locals. I am not an accomplished cyclist. We met up after an Historical Development Committee meeting; Scotty, who came to Amelia expecting to live a reasonably quiet life with his restaurant has found himself embroiled in island politics: he's attempting to build a condo behind his restaurant and had to get approval for the building height. Many people signed a against approving the building plans, despite the fact that the building height will be within the zoning requirements. One of the signatures? his girlfriend.


We went out to a few bars. I was amazed at how quiet Amelia Island was. I walked from one bar to another for a Red Bull, without telling anyone where I was going (bad city-dweller!). I felt like a rebel, but very few people were out, and no one bothered me.




By the way, the best part of the evening? Getting an after-hours tour of a store called the Snack Shack, newly relocated and expanded. The amount and types of food, drinks, and nostalgic candy paraphenalia (current want: a moon pie throw pillow) was staggering, as was the proprietors' expertise and the amount of work that went into finding much of the wares. We sampled flavored Tootsie Rolls and we each got a Cherry Mash, a seriously old-school Southern confection made of chocolate, ground peantus, and cherry nougat. It's about the size of a racquetball, and I was a little too intimidated to dive into mine immediately. The phrase "kid in a candy store" was appropriate more than once. I only wish I had a picture of Snack Shack Jack, the fiberglass mascot for the store, who has an ass that many a round-posteriored starlet would envy.

Monday, March 06, 2006

This post was originally written on 3/6. Look for more excitement in the next day or two.
Carnitas


Having been raised the South, I am a fan of slow-cooked pork. Having recently become attached to Chipotle, I have become a fan of carnitas. Finally, having gotten a mixed bag of Berkshire pork from the CSA, I have a little bit of Boston Butt (really, it's the pig's shoulder, but that's an aside) to cook. So today I went to the expeditor at work, and asked him how to make carnitas. "You take your pork, and put it in oil, and cook it over a medium high flame for thirty, forty-five minutes." I'm told. No seasonings? "No, just salt and pepper, the pork has enough flavor." Having cooked the Berkshire chops recently, I believed him, but I was dubious. My beloved Chipotle makes a carnitas that has a hint of citrus flavor to it, and I'd imagined that carnitas was a braised dish. But the idea of oil-poaching has been teasing me lately, so I decided to give in. I went and bought a frying/candy thermometer, and a gallon of peanut oil (low smoke point), and now my pork is merrily burbling away, albeit for longer than my expo suggested, mostly because my electric burners give me no indication of their gas-flame equivalent.

Prep:

Zest 2 limes and one orange, and slice 2 garlic cloves. Add to cold oil. Heat oil to about 210 Fahrenheit. Add pork, trimmed and boned (I need the practice; I'm not entirely sure that you need to trim and bone.) Cook at around 210-220, for 45 minutes to an hour.

I'm making a salsa to go with it:
About 2.5 poblanos, one jalapeno, and 1.5 serranos, all roasted, some tomatoes (canned, fresh tomatoes aren't worth the time or grief right now), a little bit of garlic and onion and some lime juice.


And beans:

Chop 1/2 onion and two cloves of garlic. Saute with two strips bacon, add 1/2 roasted poblano and 1/2 roasted serrano, sautee some more. Stir into 1.5 cups pinto beans, cooked. Add sofrito to taste, and correct seasoning.

What Have I learned?


1.Keep the oil temperature low, and constant. I let the temperture get away from me a couple of times; the first time it browned the meat, which made me happy. The second time, it dried out the meat to a depth of 1/4"-1/2", and the muscle fibers locked up toward the surface, producing a tough texture. The temperature also destroyed the flavor from the citrus zest and garlic. My old chef suggested I get into sous vide, wherein the pork, oil, and seasonings go into a vacuum-sealed bag, which then goes into boiling water. The fact that it's boiling water means that the temperature would never get above boiling, which is ideal. It means more money on stuff to cram into my tiny kitchen, but I'm strongly considering it.
2. I need jars and bottles. I'm reusing my frying oil, and need a place to put the (as yet) unused quart. Also, see the Sofrito note below.

New Favorites:


1. My candy/fry thermometer, which when attended to, allows for a great deal of control in cooking. It's not one of these , but it's a start.
2.My citrus juicer. I'd been eyeing this at the Viking Store, but it being the Viking Store, I hated the price. I found this one at Marshall's for about 1/3 of Viking's price. The label will tell you that it only works for oranges, but the makers just want you to buy all three sizes.
3. Sofrito in a jar. It doesn't taste as good as I'm sure homemade would, but it does act as a good starting point and quick flavor injection. In an attempt to cook more, I'm trying to find good jarred and canned ingredients. Hopefully soon I'll have a brand that I can definitively say makes great sofrito. Or perhaps I'll come up with a good recipe and storage method.
Hopefully I'll have lots of exciting news and pictures over the next few days, or possibly by next Tuesday.