Je Ne Sais Quoi Is Usually Just Pig

 

I grew up in a partially kosher house.  What this means is that my mother, the cook, had grown up in my grandmother’s kosher house.  So, like many Jews, mom grappled with the relevance of kashrut in the modern age: an allegiance to tradition, a respect for Talmudic law, a nostalgia for her Jewish upbringing, and of course the unorthodox deliciousness of such forbidden fruits as lobster, shrimp, scallops, meat with cheese, and yes… pork.

Mom went through phases of being more or less kosher throughout her life.  In the early years, trying to instill Jewish values on her ignorant children, the house was pretty damn kosher.  For those gentiles who may be reading this blog, this means that dairy products were never consumed in the same meal as meat products (or in Yiddish: we do not mix milchik with fleishik).  We used three separate dish and silverware sets for dairy, kosher meat, and “oops, don’t tell” meals.  We did not cook any of the forbidden foods listed above, and while Jewish law also dictates the correct kosher way to kill an animal, we only sometimes bought certified kosher meat, but did generally stick to animals that could be killed and still be kosher – animals with kosher potential, if you will. 

(For more on kosher laws, check out this link: http://www.jewfaq.org/kashrut.htm)

Life events challenge one’s religious beliefs, and mom’s kosher kitchen waxed and waned with her ever-developing religious convictions. 

For my dad’s part, he fully supported mom’s efforts to instill Jewish values in the offspring and to generate a sense of Jewish identity.  However, his role in the kitchen was generally reserved to official table setter and clean-up detail.  He is, as I mentioned in the first post, very responsible for the meals that transpired outside of the home. 

For the men in the family, the lure of sin in a restaurant was just too much to combat.  We fell like wounded animals for the bad stuff: New England clam chowder, baby back ribs, baked stuffed lobster, shrimp scampi, fried calamari, and most everything in a Chinese restaurant. 

My sister stayed kosher, and ultimately adopted vegetarianism.  My brother has held onto the “no meat with cheese” rule, and aside from that, plunged deep into delicious sin.  And as for myself, I found a second religion in food.  I remain a proud Jew, but there is literally nothing I will not eat (at least once).  I have explored animal organs and extremities, and have happily chowed down on cow brains, fried crickets (prepared myself), chicken feet, and the wonderfully flavorful kidney and liver meats.  I have enjoyed llama, elk, buffalo, turtle, frog, goose, and even rattlesnake.  Whenever I see a new food, I need to try it.  I am a masochist for spice, and believe that the proper amount is just a hair under the threshold of pain.  I like bold flavors and interesting textures.  I am absurdly well-traveled for my age (again, thanks Mom and Dad), and have had the pleasure of dining on the regional cuisines of France, Spain, Italy, Switzerland, Israel, Argentina, Uruguay, Mexico and Brazil (and Canada? Hey, Toronto has good Chinese food). 

In any case, the point is, I like food. 

To return to kashrut, or really the lack thereof, I gradually became aware of two new culinary worlds: the world of aquatic crustaceans and the world of the dirty, dirty hog.  My childhood restaurant excursions did a lot to introduce me to tasty sea creatures, but it was really not until college that I learned the true glory of the pig.  For example, the pulled pork sandwich – MY GOD!  I refuse to believe that God does not want me to eat something so amazing.  I believe that God is kind and loving, and believes in an order to this universe.  The existence of barbecued pulled pork on a bun is a testament to God’s vision.

If I may throw in a tangent, last night I went out with an old friend in Stamford, CT to this bar/restaurant called Butterfield8.  Very tasty pulled pork sliders.  Highly recommended.  My friend got diver sea scallops, which was also good (if you’re into black truffle risotto, and all that).

So in college I learned what nice things could be done with pig.  I have Steve largely to thank for that (my housemate/chef/friend).  He is the man who ingeniously combined bacon with a donut bread pudding to create the most caloric, fattening and absolutely richest thing I have ever eaten.  To quote my best friend Warren, commenting on Crumbs cupcakes, “It’s so good.  It tastes like diabetes.”

Steve showed me what you could do with pork loins and pork chops.  I was converted (to pork – still Jewish).  A couple years later, and I have started to come up with some nice pork dinners of my own.  Now with my own kitchen, Vanessa and I dine on swine.  Enjoy the photos:

Sage Encrusted Pork Loin and Roasted Root Vegetables

with Dijon Mustard Reduction

 The sage is from our plant.  We grow very few fresh herbs since we moved into our current apartment at the beginning of autumn, but sage is one of them.  If I remember correctly the root vegetables here were celeriac, turnip, Yukon potato and onion. Also of cool notability, Sarah painted the plate.

German/Chinese Pork Chops with Potato

The pork was marinated over night in a sauce of beer, soy sauce, mirin, cider vinegar, ginger and sugar. While the meat was broiled, the sauce was reduced and thickened into a heavy German style gravy with the help of some cornstarch.  The beer helped tenderize the meat and the sauce was a nice sweet and sour.

Just in case any friends or friends of friends are reading this, I will point out that my housemate Sarah is still very much kosher.  But she is a very workable kosher.  No multiple dish sets, willing to eat around shrimp in a paella – all around good deal.  Sarah is only home for dinner about half the week, so the pork and shellfish meals tend to be on nights when it is just Vanessa and me.  Things work well.  We all eat delicious food.

That’s all for today.  I hope you have enjoyed David’s Plate, and please stop by again to see how the girls and I have been eating. 

Happy eating!

Blogging About What I'm Eating

Welcome to David’s Plate!

As you may have surmised, I am David, the lover of food, the amateur chef, and as of today, the author of this blog.  I have had the intention of documenting and sharing my gastronomic exploits for some time.  However, as my work keeps me in front of a computer far longer than I desire, I approached entering the blogosphere with more than a little hesitancy and trepidation.  From the get go, I will make clear my intentions to share and discuss a few meals per post about once a week.  I would love to do more, but hey – I need time to cook!

So who am I?  And why on Earth do I eat so well?

Well, I cannot claim the authenticity of a professional chef.  I did not come from hardship, scrounge a job one day washing dishes, and slowly work my way up in a restaurant, learning to cook out of necessity.  Nothing so romantic, nothing so bona fide.  In fact, my only brief teenage work in a restaurant was just that, a menial teenage summer gig as a bus boy.  That was where I started in the restaurant business and that is where I ended.  At the time, I was not cut out for it, and though I am a different person now, I still don’t know if it is for me.  My cap comes off to anyone who works in the food industry.  It is a hell of a life, and you need to really love what you do.

I love, but I serve a much smaller clientele.  I am merely a man who enjoys food.  I live in the tiny city of Norwalk, Connecticut (a town with a greatly underrated restaurant scene), and I cook for my beautiful girlfriend Vanessa and our friend and housemate Sarah.   

My first and greatest influence as a chef is my mother, who is an amazing cook and a wonderful baker.  I am also the son of a doctor, which means that growing up, I was fortunate and taken to many nice restaurants.  Mom’s cooking and Dad’s treating at restaurants means that I’ve been eating well my whole life. 

Other food influences include my older brother, who, in restaurants as a boy, I always asked, “what are you getting?”  I learned a lot from his orderings.  Also there was is my aunt Liza, who lived in France, and taught by example how to eat well.  Then there was my college housemate, a real chef.  Many nights I would sit at the kitchen counter pretending to do homework as I watched Steve cook.  I would ask about every ingredient he used and what he was going to do with it.  By the time I graduated college, I was ready to cook on my own.

The results thus far have been rather delicious.

 (I also have a tremendously awesome sister, who, being a vegetarian most of childhood, is not so much a food influence – but she is pretty sweet, and deserves coolness props any way!)

But enough about my peoples, and enough about me.  This blog is not going to be about me.  It is about my plate.  

Let’s get to the meat!