Archive

somethin’ on the side

Whenever I buy celery, I wind up using two measly stalks and find the bunch weeks later, somewhere in the dark part of the refrigerator, flavorless and pliable. My celery intentions always begin pure, but I usually screw them up along the way.

Not this time.

No, this time I was going to let this fibrous vegetable shine in a simple side dish of braised celery. Cut the celery on a bias to the desired length. In a deep pan, heat a bit of butter and sear the celery on both sides. Once browned, add stock (I used chicken) to just cover the vegetables. Bring to a boil, reduce to a simmer and cover. Braise until the celery is cooked to your liking (I like it pretty soft).

Remove the celery and reduce the stock to thicken. Season to taste with S & P and pour over the celery.

Warning: This is a healthy recipe. You may find it’ll cause you to feel good about the way you look, and, subsequently, you may end up removing your pants. Go with it.

The candied bacon made in the previous post is as versatile as regular bacon. My friend and culinary classmate Sonia suggested making a cake ball of corn bread, rolled in maple frosting and topped with said candied bacon. She is a genius.

I did something a little simpler, but definitely worth trying. Make popcorn (the real way, on the stove. Or if you can find micrwave popcorn with no salt or flavorings, that’s fine, too) and toss with finely chopped fresh rosemary, melted butter and crumbled or diced candied bacon. Season with S&P to taste.

I don’t know who to thank for contrasting sweet with savory and balancing the two in a single dish. I can’t even take credit for inventing candied bacon. I can, however, claim responsibility for the candied bacon I made last night.

Lay bacon slices (I prefer thick-slice) on a cooling rack over a baking sheet. Sprinkle generously with brown sugar and freshly ground black pepper. Bake in a 425-degree Fahrenheit oven for 10-15 minutes, or until crispy.

This is a prime example of a food that demands you take off your pants. Eat the candied bacon alone or get creative and add to other recipes. (Tune in to tomorrow’s post where I tell you about my bacon popcorn experience.)

One of my favorite veggies, Brussels sprouts are quirky, adorable, stinky and–gulp–healthy. They are surprisingly versatile, but for this preparation, I stuck to simple.

Steam the Brussels sprouts whole until tender. Saute over high heat in brown butter, adding thinly sliced garlic about halfway through. Once the garlic is golden brown and the outer leaves of the sprouts have blistered, season with S & P and be done with it.

And here it is, the final component to the perfect roasted chicken. Okay, so it has nothing to do with the actual roasting process. But I guarantee* that this is such a magical addition, it will become an essential part of the dish.

We’re talking about gremolata, typically a combination of garlic, herbs and zest. In this version, finely minced garlic is combined with finely chopped fresh parsley, minced lemon and orange zests, S & P.

*This is based on nothing. In fact, I don’t really guarantee anything. You may not even like the thing. It doesn’t really matter, because if you don’t like it, it’s safe to say that I don’t like you.