Eat Boutique

I don’t believe I ever shared photos of my big, gigantic, cheesy, lopsided burger:

• It’s nestled in a slightly-over-charred bun with butter lettuce leaves from my garden.
• It’s filled with gorgonzola cheese and topped with caramelized red onions.
• It’s thick and rich and lopsided, but perfect. Perfectly not perfect.

And it looks damn pretty, albeit not so perfect, on a plate with my Lemon Cilantro Potato Salad.

I set to cook on the morning of July 4th with so many meals in mind. So. Many. Meals. While I knew I was serving blue cheese filled all-natural burgers for the holiday barbecue, I had a two-pound piece of pork from the rear of the piggy that I wanted to smoke. It was a holiday and I had the time so the smoking commenced.

First, I prepared the meat. For any other occasion, I would typically marinate the meat 24 hours ahead of time. I’d use a dry and a wet rub to help tenderize the meat. As I decided to make this pork butt at the last minute, there was little time to tenderize so I had to put lots of flavor into both the meat and the smoking liquid.

Now, the smoking liquid goes into a pot in the bottom of your smoker. We have three different smokers. Yes, we’re a tad bit obsessed. Being that it was a holiday and we were also feeling a tad bit lazy, we decided to use the gas-powered smoker so that the temperature was regulated without us having to monitor the fire all morning. Don’t hate us because we have a gas-powered smoker.

Our smoking liquid starts with water and is peppered with goodies. I needed to pack in a lot of flavor in a short period of time, so I layered in multiple items. First, I added some classic flavors like bay leaf, cinnamon, dried thyme branches (from a friend’s organic garden in France, she snuck them on the plane) and juniper berries. Then I turned up the heat with Thai dried chilies and garlic cloves. Lastly, I tossed in a large chunk of ginger for spice just before pouring in a small splash (err, river) of whiskey. You may choose to omit the liquor, but I must ask - why? Seriously, the alcohol burns out and the hint of flavor is amazing.

The meat was equally inundated with flavor. I rubbed these small slabs with olive oil, salt and pepper, and added some fennel seeds, black peppercorns and a little more of that Thai chili, chopped coarsely. Isn’t it pretty?

After a quick rub, we put the pork into the 225 degree smoker and waited. (I didn’t really wait. I got on with the rest of my cooking and didn’t have to think about the pork.) Pork cooks at about 1.5 hours per pound. As this meat was a mere two pounds, we didn’t have to wait long. Around lunch time, we pulled the meat out and admired it’s crusty goodness. But we’re not done yet!

I set the kitchen oven to a low 225 degrees and before wrapping the pork in some aluminum foil, tossed in a few splashes of malt vinegar. Malt vinegar and pork just marry well, especially with ginger and chili. I popped in the wrapped pork into the oven for a short while, less than an hour. When the meat emerged, it still had that crusty goodness, but with a little shine.

I grabbed two forks and proceeded to pull the pork apart. This meat was tender to the bite, but a touch snug to the touch of the fork. Snug meat reminds you to always plan ahead and marinate the meat 24 hours ahead of time. Still, the meat was succulent and shiny. The pink smoke ring was perfect and so mesmerizing that two vegetarians at my table had to sneak a bite.

In case you can’t see that smoke ring or the luscious shine, look a bit closer. I chose to not serve this for our barbecue. This succulent meat adorned some toasted buns as pulled pork sandwiches, and the flavors that lingered long after each bite were rich, tangy, sharp and filling. I am in love with the rear of the pig, and so were my guests.

My husband loves potatoes. It’s a true love that began when he was a wee one fed piles of the mashed kind by his grandmother and mother at every meal. Every. Single. Meal.

I’ve always been wary of attempting his family’s mashed recipe. I’m equally shy of his family’s potato salad recipe, a dish his aunt always brought to my home for special summer events, sweetly covering for my fear of the notorious creamy potato goodness. I’m not scared of potatoes or mayonnaise. I’m more scared of not getting it right in front of his gigantic Irish-American family.

Today, with his family no where in sight, I wanted potato salad, damn it, so I decided to make up my own recipe. As I boiled and chopped and mixed, my husband inquired as to the whereabouts of the mayonnaise. I reassured him, “No mayo. No problem. You’ll love it.” He buried his head in his coffee mug and muttered something about his grandmother, but I simply said, “I can’t hear any mumbling right now!” He shuffled out to the barn and left me to my mission.

I created this recipe on the fly and really adore it. I can actually taste potato, two kinds, red and purple. I lick my lips to the lemony flavor absorbed into the salad due to loads of lemon zest and juice. The chopped vidalia onions are soft and sweet, while the chopped garlic scapes provide a snappy crunch. After much internal debate about basil or cilantro, I decided my tomato bruschetta would swim in basil, so these potatoes deserved some of that fresh cilantro.

You can really mix these ingredients together to your taste. I’ve provided some guidelines and what I did, but it’s fun to add and taste as you go along.

My husband enjoyed this side dish very much. He easily got past the no-mayo thing. Alas, he couldn’t get past why I wouldn’t think to add crumbled bacon to the dish. He’s right; I bet that would taste great. But while bacon is pleasing even to many vegetarians I know, the sort coming to dinner today were “real” vegetarians who couldn’t be bothered with pork products. He feels there’s something intrinsically wrong with anyone who won’t eat bacon, but that’s another post for another day.

Try this dish; it’s delicious.

Lemon Cilantro Potato Salad

• 3-4 lbs potatoes, both purple and red
• 4 garlic scapes, chopped
• 1 large vidalia onion, finely chopped
• 1 small bunch cilantro, roughly chopped
• Lemon zest, from 2 lemons
• 4 tablespoons lemon juice
• 1 tablespoon, dijon mustard
• 6 pours, olive oil (about 6 tablespoons)
• Salt and pepper to taste

Place the potatoes in a pot of cold water. Bring to a boil and cook until tender to a fork. These took different times as the purple potatoes were much smaller. In general, the potatoes were fork-tender within 15-25 minutes. Drain the potatoes in a colander. As they cool, make the vinagrette.

Put the lemon juice, dijon mustard, olive oil, salt and pepper in a little jar that has a lid. I used about 1 teaspoon of salt and 1/2 teaspoon of freshly ground black pepper. Put the lid on the jar and shake until well combined.

Chop or slice the potatoes into your desired shape. I cut them into quarters. In a large bowl, place the potatoes, scapes, onion, cilantro and lemon zest. Pour the vinaigrette over the top and watch as the warm potatoes suck up the tangy dressing. Toss everything very well and leave to marinate at room temperature until the rest of your meal is ready to be served. Taste just before serving and re-season, as needed, with salt and pepper.