Tag Archives: main course

Pork Roast with Apples and Onions

This lovely post on the P-Dub’s site caused some swift action in my kitchen. I wasn’t going to put this on my list of recipes-to-make and let it sit around for months, waiting its turn. I had to make it immediately. So I bought the ingredients and bellowed “Haruzziah!”

All Sunday afternoon it cooked away in the oven, infusing our apartment with the most delectable smells. And the flavors! Onions cooked to sweetness, tart apples, rich, tender pork with its flavor deepened by the beef stock . . . aaaah!

Plus, this is one of those meals that keeps excellently in the fridge and just gets better with time. Granted that the leftovers resemble a pile of brown who-knows-what, but once you take a bite, you won’t be complaining!

Ingredients

( Serves 8 )

3 TBS olive oil
1 3-4 lb pork shoulder roast (pork butt)
Salt and pepper, to taste
4 cups apple juice
1 cup beef stock
3 apples
3 onions
2 bay leaves

As you can see, I went ahead and sliced the onion up for the ingredients picture. I was in maximum efficiency mode. Stomachs were growling, hunger was churning.

Core the apples and cut them into wedges.

No need to peel ’em!

Sauté the onions in a large Dutch oven until brown.

I should note that this is optional—you can also just add them raw to the roast. Set the onions aside.

Sprinkle the meat all over with salt and pepper.

Heat the oil in the Dutch oven, and when hot, sear the pork roast on all sides, sprinkling it liberally with more salt and pepper as it cooks.

I chose to take care of this in the cast iron skillet as the onions cooked in the Dutch oven, once again in the interest of time.

But ideally you’ll sear it in the same pot it’s going to slow-cook in, so that all the flavor is contained.

Looking brown and glorious!

At this point it became apparent that with the size of the hunk of pork and the bounty of apples and onions, the green Dutch oven was not going to cut it. So we made a move that is now becoming strangely familiar . . .

. . . and divided it into 2 Dutch ovens. Double the ovens, double the fun.

In retrospect, I think everything could have fit it the black cast iron Dutch oven, which may be slightly bigger. But no harm done either way! The result was delicious pork, and I have no regrets.

Lower the heat, and add the apple juice, apple slices, onions, beef stock and bay leaves.

Try and make sure the meat is as submerged as possible., then cover and either simmer it on the stove or place it in the oven at 300 F for 3 hours.

You can use this time to crochet, watch an episode of 30 Rock, do some Pilates, or work on your photo album. Or lie in a salivating stupor on the couch, awaiting the moment when the pork will be yours. Though I don’t recommend that last option–it could make those 3 hours feel like an eternity. Here, I’ll make up an annoying poem:

Busy hands make time go fast
so do some work and have a blast
but if you lie upon the couch
you will just become a grouch

No more moralizing, I promise–but that poem just had to come out.

You can also use this time to cook up a batch of wild rice:

When the roast is done . . .

. . . you must examine the tenderness of the meat. I broke this one apart a little, but the other roast stayed magnificently in one beautiful piece. Either way works, depending on the kind of presentation you’re going for.

Remove the meat to a serving plate along with the onions and apples.

But we’re not done yet!

 Yes, it looks and smells delicious–but we’re about to take the yumminess up a notch. Actually, more like ten notches. So cover that meat with foil to keep it warm while we begin the final and imperative step.

Turn the heat on the stove to high, and violently boil the remaining liquid in the pot for about 15 minutes, until thick. Here are some before and after pictures so that you can see how quickly it reduces:

Is this really necessary? someone may ask. (They will especially ask this if the growling roars in their stomach have graduated from kittycat to mountain lion levels.)

And the answer is: YES! This part is essential!

Don’t even think of skipping it.

Think gravy, but even better. This makes the dish. Spoon the sauce over the pork, and serve it all over rice! Only then will you understand. See, I considered skipping the sauce step, but after one bite, I became a true believer.

Spoon it generously, people! I want to see you swimming in sauce.

These pictures can’t possibly convey what I want to convey.

It’s just too brown.

But your taste buds will sing!

Adieu.

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Weeknight Butterflied Chicken with Rosemary, Garlic and Lemon

Welcome to another recipe from our cooking class the other week. Cassia and I were both excited to include this recipe on the menu because it’s so dang easy to make. I have to admit that I have been among the ranks of people intimidated by the idea of roasting a chicken–but no longer!

Let me put it this way: the first time I butterflied a chicken and tossed this together, I was able to get home from work, put it in the oven, change my clothes, and dash out the door again to get to my yoga class all in 15 minutes. For realz. I left a note for my husband (due to get home shortly) to turn off the oven after 35 minutes. When I got back from exercising, the aromas that awaited me were mouth-meltingly good. And I realized that roasting a chicken is a fabulous weeknight meal–almost no prep time, and a very modest cooking time. Plus, butterflying a chicken is kind of . . . fun. As long as you own some hefty kitchen scissors, this neat trick will reduce the roasting time and get the chicken to cook evenly.

It’s also a great trick for the summertime, when the flat surface created by butterflying a chicken will allow you to slap ‘er on the grill. Brilliant! Maybe some day I’ll own a grill and I can experience the wonder for myself.

Let’s do this thang!

Ingredients

(Serves 5)

1 whole chicken (3-4 lbs), giblets removed

2-3 TBS olive oil

3 sprigs rosemary, leaves torn off 2 of them

1 head garlic

1 lemon, cut into 6 pieces

Salt

Pepper

1 lemon, for garnish

First, preheat the oven to 400 F. Then, rinse the chicken (including the cavity) and dry the beast thoroughly with paper towels. Place it on a cutting board (with an optional sheet of wax paper underneath for cleanliness), breast side down and backbone side up. Arrange it so that the neck is facing you.

Now it’s time to butterfly!

Cut along either side of the backbone:

You’ll hear some crunches, but shouldn’t encounter any major obstacles. If you do, adjust your course accordingly. Above, I’m cutting along the right side of the backbone. Once you’ve cut all the way through, cut through the left side as well and simply remove the entire backbone. Remove the backbone and throw it away.

At this point you’ll see some extra skin and fat hanging around the bottom–cut that out.

Ta-daa!

Turn the chicken over, and firmly press on the breastbone to break it.

There I am dangling it from a casual hand during the cooking class.

I’m pointing to the breast bone, which we just broke. Your chicken should now look like this:

Now that the chicken is splayed out, pat it dry again with more paper towels (the drier you can get it, the crisper the skin will bake up).

Spread a layer of parchment paper on a large baking sheet, and slap the butterflied chicken on it, skin side up. Pour the olive oil over the chicken, sprinkle on the rosemary leaves, and generously season it with salt and pepper, spreading the oil and seasoning over the entire surface with your fingers.

Break apart the head of garlic (but you don’t need to remove the papery skins on the cloves).

Roughly chop the lemon:

Distribute the garlic and lemon all around and underneath the chicken.You don’t have to stuff anything under the skin, but I kinda felt like it.

I’m sorry if this grosses you out–but after 35 minutes in the old cooker, your chicken eeblie-jeeblies will turn into pure, unedited hunger.

I call dibs on that piece of lemon up in there!

We’re almost done–toss a couple whole sprigs of rosemary underneath it.

And ready to roast!

Roast it for 35-45 minutes (test for doneness at 35). And let me add–please don’t overcook it. If the juices are running clear, you’re probably good to go. But the difference between a chicken overcooked by 10 minutes (starting to get dry and fibrous) and a perfectly cooked chicken (think al dente pasta) is amazing. When it’s moist and just done, it’s an experience to be treasured bite by bite. Overcooking makes it mediocre and blah. The USDA will tell you to go to 170 in the breast, but keep in mind that their recommendation errs on the high end. The dry end. The fibrous end. I cooked my chicken to 160 in the thick part of the breast. For my taste, perfect!

Optional step: 10 minutes before it’s done, you can grab a stick of butter and smear it over the top. This will give the skin the lovely golden brown color that you see in these pictures.

Let it rest for about 10 minutes before carving and serving. Serve with fresh wedges of lemon, and the roasted lemon as well (the pulp will melt like butter!). And in the name of all that is good in the world, please don’t forget to squeeze the roasted garlic out of the skins–it’s to die for.

We served this chicken with the brussel sprouts and a creamy goat cheese polenta. What a perfect combination.

So, my friends–roast a butterflied chicken on a weeknight! It’s easy to prepare, quick to get on the table, and oh-so-satisfying to eat.

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