UnRecipe: My Dinner With Cthulhu

It starts out simple enough, a basic craving for a basic dish... sear up some steak, fry a few eggs, an ad hoc hash of whatever vegetables are around... and then it gets weird. Downright Lovecraftian. And before you know it, a humble breakfast-for-dinner meal has a science fiction Chimera of your worst nightmares showing up on your plate, a culmination of humanity's anxious energy, a fear of the unknown... Hold fast, kids, you're Cookin' with Cthulhu.

Baked eggs with hash, before a mythological beast crashes the meal - Photo by Wasabi Prime

The desire to make steak, eggs and hash wasn't some culinary ritual to call up H.P. Lovecraft's creature of the eponymous story, Call of Cthulhu. It just sort of  happened on a quick plating of leftovers, and I'm saving that photo for last because it's freaky-deaky, and I don't want it to ruin the telling of a genuinely tasty breakfast hash. Honestly, who wants some skeevy tentacle-faced winged leviathan muscling-in on your quiet meal at home? I'm pretty sure he wouldn't say "please" when asking for seconds. He'd just pulverize your sanity and leave you an empty husk of a human being while he threw on extra dashes of Sriracha on your serving of Brinner. He'd probably watch all your DVR-ed episodes of Glee and just delete everything before you saw them. He'd even drink all the OJ and just leave one swallow in the carton before slinking off back to R'lyeh like a total d-bag. Thanks for nothing, Cthulhu.

Brinner done right - with steak and bad-ass hash - Photos by Wasabi Prime

I just wanted to make a Bad-Ass Breakfast Hash. Yes, that's a thing. It's a delicious thing. The CSA had a lot to do with it, providing a bevvy of veggies to play with, but I found a nice combination of produce that makes for a delicious and colorful hash. I like to start building the perfect Bad-Ass Breakfast Hash with the perfect bad-ass base, which is of course: Bacon. A couple of slices rendered in a large pan on a burner set to medium-low. Get all that delicious swiny fat pulled out, it's liquid cooking gold. Remove the crispy slices and set aside, they'll get thrown back in later if you don't just eat them as you cook, which is totally understandable if you do. Toss in some diced red potatoes with the skin still on, let them get a nice browning with the bacon fat. Start building flavor with diced onions and let them sweat and slowly caramelize. The next vegetables are as much for color as they are for flavor -- bell peppers (red and yellow are best, as they're sweeter) and the chopped stalks of rainbow chard. You'll throw in the green leaves of the chard later, but the stalks are edible, they need extra cook time to get tender, and their color stays for the most part. It kind of reminds me of cooking rhubarb; you don't keep the intense color, but it won't brown, instead mellowing to a pastel color. I get a lot of crap for cooking Brown Food, and while there's some brown/neutral tones in this hash, the peppers and chard keep it pretty. Adding the chopped greens of the chard towards the end, just to wilt, keeps the hash  looking fresh. A nice addition for keeping the flavor bright is finely-chopped preserved lemon rind -- I know, not a super common ingredient, but if you feel the hankering to jar up some excess lemon with a ton of salt, just check out the We Can Portlandia That post about pickling everything. I have to say, I'm addicted to the use of preserved lemon rind. I don't always have fresh citrus to zest, but a jar of salted lemons is mightily convenient for these UnRecipe MacGyver meals that  often come together with little planning or grocery shopping.

The hash that makes you hollaback fo' more - Photos by Wasabi Prime

You can't have steak and eggs without steak, of course. I used a flank steak. It's one of my favorite cuts, just because it's got a nice flavor and there's never a doubt over which direction the grain of the meat goes. As long as you're slicing across the lines of the grain, you will not get a tough bite. Getting a nice sear in a pan, ideally in the rendered bacon fat, is a good start. You just want to cook it rare and it will continue to steam a little, wrapped in foil, resting while the hash is getting cooked. You could skip the steak altogether, just going with eggs and bad-ass breakfast hash, but I had a hankering for red meat. When the hash was done, I sliced up the end cuts of the flank and tossed that into the hash, just because I could.The center rare part of the steak was saved for thin slices to go with the finished eggs and hash. I cracked eggs into ramekins of hash, baked in the oven. It's kind of like a mix between poached and fried eggs; still runny but sunny-side up with the yolk staring at you. If there's any crisps of bacon left, sprinkle as a garnish.

Sunny, runny egg yolk, is there nothing better in the world? - Photos by Wasabi Prime

Despite all the Lovecraft pre-func on this post, it really wasn't until we had Brinner leftovers of steak, eggs and bad-ass breakfast hash that Cthulhu made an appearance. A lame attempt at being artsy, fanning out the reheated steak slices before topping everything with a couple of fried eggs had us staring right into the Face of Madness, before it was devoured by the Mouth of Madness. Such is the pitfall of our love of putting eggs on... well, everything. Call it Cthulhu, call it Dr. Zoidberg from Futurama, call it whatever you like. We just started into its terrifyingly mad sunny-side-up face and devoured the devourer of souls because dang, we were hungry.

Let's be honest, if this were the first photo, you'd have stopped reading the post - Food photo by Wasabi Prime





Mixed Plate: Feast of the Beast

I could have used that age-old Prince reference and say we were partying like it was 1999 when the year came to a close, but it was more like, it was around midnight when the Meat Sweats kicked in. For whatever flash of temporary insanity my court-appointed lawyer would insist I plea to, a brief moment of madness is all I can come up with to explain why our New Year's Eve became a carnivorous meat feast, which included a 10-pound smoked ham, 16 pounds of roasted turkey flesh (and a fake inflatable bird for show), a large London Broil, platters of charcuterie, and a sweet finish of bacon brownies and bacon/chocolate chip cookies. Are your pores weeping animal fat yet? Mine are.

We Wish You a Happy New Year and a Night of Meat Sweats - Photo by Wasabi Prime

This sounds like a fearful New Years Eve gathering, no? Sinewy cuts of muscle and tendon, tender rivulets of fat and the crackle of salted crisped skin... mmmm... tasty. Maybe I watched too many episodes of The Walking Dead, but the desire to leave out platefuls of fleshy protein goodness was a temptation too good to pass up. A typical New Years Eve gathering with a single roast and some fussy stuffed mushroom caps just seemed "been there, done that," and we owed some friends who have always hosted holiday get-togethers a proper "thank you." We had a few folks come over, a group of full-on Meatatarians who didn't have any big NYE plans and just wanted to keep it intimate, casual and totally carnivorous. It was also a safe option, as we are all hearty boozejuice imbibers, and while our livers are strong with The Force, having it at a house made it easy for people to stay over and not take any unnecessary road risks. We could all Release the Kraken with abandon, with a hearty supply of protein to slow the inevitable demise of brain cells into 2012.


Meat o' Clock... and all's well! - Photos by Wasabi Prime

To be honest, all that barnyard animal fodder wasn't eaten in a single night. Yes, I cooked a 16-pound turkey, but after you break it down and remove the non-meaty parts, you're left with maybe 13 pounds of the edible stuff, likely less once it's cooked. I did a dry rub of Southwestern spices on the bird and let it marinate in the fridge for about two days. I seared everything off in a hot pan and then finished it in the oven. Once it was cool enough to handle, I pulled every scrap of meat off the bones and sliced down the breast into bite-sized chunks. The bird was literally shredded apart, and the meat was used to stuff tacos for the party. Turkey tacos -- Turkos, as Mr. Wasabi was calling them. I know it's not as pretty as showing off a centerpiece roast, but most casual parties are grazing events, you want something you can snack on. The soft corn tortillas got messy towards the end, but I left forks out for easier eating. I did something similar with the large London broil I cooked -- it was seared and sliced thin, then stuffed into a baguette smeared with Dijon mustard and an herb/oil/citrus sauce similar to chimichurri, which was a nice alternative to typical mustard and mayo on bread. The sauce gave the sandwich some bite and the ability to enjoy steak wrapped in bread is a little easier for casual grazing.


Heavenly Smoked Ham, the Menu for the Night and a Classy Fireside View - Photos by Wasabi Prime

The smoked ham, purchased from our local BBQ-erie, Armadillo BBQ, right on Main Street in Duvall, was a bone-in half ham, and I cut more than three-quarters of the smoky delicious ham up for the party, but saved a chunk or three for us, frozen/hoarded away for later use. I also removed the bone and froze it, to be used for what will I'm sure be a delightful soup at a later date. The big meaty chunks of ham were so delicious -- they were eaten with no extra seasoning, enjoyed hot and cold, a perfect meat to just leave out at a party and let guests pick away. My mother would do the same thing for her holiday parties, just leave a giant spiral-cut ham or two out, and people would pick at it when it was still hot, but it became ravaged by a hungry meat-zombie horde, later in the evening when it was cooled and perfect to make ham sandwiches, piling on slices of cheese and other meats from the cold cuts platter. Ah, memories...
 

Party Prep, Enjoying the Last of the Holidays and Indy gets VIP Seating - Photos by Wasabi Prime

 For all the scary meat-zombie references and the savaging of barnyard beasties, I did make an effort to make the house party-ready. I even wore a funny hat. We didn't have enough seating for a sit-down meal, so I purposely spread all the chairs around the house to create cozy gathering nooks for people to sit, as guests often tend to break off into smaller sub-groups. The buffet table was meant to be a fueling spot, and the kitchen countertop became an open bar, with easy access to opened bottles of wine, beer, a very boozy cider and yes, even mead! We are lucky to have friends who not only make beer but cider and mead as well, which they were kind to bring. People also brought bottles of Scotch, which was very nice, plus it was an invitation for Brock to pull out his own supply of good liquors, like his special bottle of Pappy Van Winkle and a variety of Scotch he's collected. Again, this is why we have a spare bedroom, a fold-out couch and a downstairs area with plenty of room to set up a fold-out bed -- although one guest had the preparedness to bring his own air mattress. Party Professional.

Releasing the Kraken with a Variety of  Drinks, and Archer Episodes Aplenty - Photos by Wasabi Prime

When I say parties often mean guests branching off and having their own mini social gatherings, I mean the girls went off and drank wine while the boys sat and watched Archer episodes on Netflix. Don't worry, we all came together in time to see the bell toll 2012, but there was a lot of raunchy laughs throughout the night, and that's just how things go at Casa de Wasabi, love it or leave it. This might sound appalling to party planners and etiquette mavens, the watching of naughty cartoons during a gathering, but by the time I was several glasses into the rum-spiked hot cider, I fully accepted that the party was no longer within my OCD planner control, it was a creature existing on its own. So I let it run free and wild like some rabid ferret in a yarn store. I tipped a tipsy glass in honor of the party gods, cried, Havoc! And let loose the Bacchanalian dogs of war - 2012 was greeted with only a partial sense of awareness.

Meaty Just Desserts - Photos by Wasabi Prime

I didn't let dessert go untouched by The Magical Animal. I meant it when I said I made bacon brownies. I took a favorite dark chocolate brownie recipe and sprinkled in crisped bacon crumbles before baking off the batter. I've made variations of bacon brownies before, and they're pretty rich and often times the chocolate can overtake the bacon, so you kind of miss the fact there's little porcine bits of goodness in there. Although that's kind of a good thing, because a big ol' greasy bite of bacon in a brownie is a little gross. But the real treat was the browned butter bacon and chocolate chip cookies. This was a recipe I got from Edible Seattle Magazine and it's a winner. Honestly, add browned butter to anything and it makes it better, but in this recipe, it heightens the savory-ness of the cookie, which works well with the chunks of bacon. Yes, browning the butter takes an extra step, and it will make the batter extra sticky, so you'll need to give it some time in the fridge to cool and harden before forming into the cookies, but the flavor impact is worth it. When cooking off the bacon, I actually reserved and strained the fat, adding some to both the brownie and cookie batter, to add even more pork flavored goodness. I know this sounds like a criminal act, all this use of lard, but I figure, it's not something I make every day and at least with a party, the naughtiness is spread out across a group. Much like Avian Flu. Plus, I sent the mister off to work with the leftover brownies, so we wouldn't be totally buried in temptation. But I admit, chocolate chip cookies (bacon or not) are my weakness, so I kept those leftovers for myself. If you don't hear from me in a few days, call 911, I've probably keeled over from a massive coronary.

2012's Arrival, Along With a Hangover Brunch and Leafy Satsumas - Photos by Wasabi Prime

And so 2011 came and went -- in like a lamb, but out like a lion, as the party kept going past 2am. People spent the night and somehow through some delayed hangover effect, I got a stick-to-your-ribs breakfast of leftover meat, hash and eggs on the table. I say delayed hangover effect, because by around 11:30 in the morning, my energy faded and I was bedridden for the rest of the day, watching a Star Wars marathon through a haze of aspirin, water and my own cursed miserable existence. But hey, I can't say New Years wasn't memorable, and supposedly this is my big year, as it's the Year of the Dragon. It must be, because man... was I draggin' on New Years Day.

UnRecipe: Rolling With the Meaty Punches

A few years ago, I remember seeing a preview for a John Woo movie called Paycheck, where Ben AFLAC-Affleck is this super-geeeenius who can reverse engineer technology from other companies and he sells this information to the highest-bidding competitor for gobs of moolah. How many zeroes in gobs? A lot. There was also a lot of stuff blowing up, high-tech looking computer animation to visually represent the interworkings of  The Affleck's mind under the suspension of belief that he can do this all in his noggin' without pausing to count using his fingers, and a whole bunch of fast cuts to try and hide the fact that the movie probably wasn't very good, its adaptation from a Phillip K. Dick short story notwithstanding. Honestly, has Hollywood done anything right with Philly-D's work? But I digress. The movie was silly, yet the even sillier reverse engineering aspect came into play when Mr. Wasabi described a meal he had and I decided to try and recreate it from description alone. The result? Proscuitto-Wrapped Cheesy Steak Rolls.

Reverse engineer this, Ben! - Photo by Wasabi Prime

Fine, so it's nowhere near as exciting as high-tech futuristic espionage directed with a Hong Kong-style action flair. Was it more satisfying than watching a half-baked sci-fi adaptation with The Affleck? Yes. Don't get me wrong, I love me some Good Will Hunting, Chasing Amy, or even a silly romp with a giant meteor hurtling towards the planet with Michael Bay-melodrama, but Ben-jammin trying to get all reverse engineer on me? Hell-to-the-no. But I put memories of bad movie previews to good work when Brock described a meal he had with friends that was, as he described it, "steak pinwheels," involving spinach, cheese and bacon-wrapping. I don't care if the bacon trend is "so yesterday," bring on a log of hog any day.

From his meal description, I used some thinly-sliced steak, laid a thin layer of cooked spinach over the top, rolled them up, wrapped with proscuitto, and baked before pulling them out when they were still rare. Letting them cool slightly, I cut the beef logs into thinner slabs, laid them flat with a sprinkling of cheese and placed them under the broiler to finish off. Placed artfully over some roasted asparagus, anything can look all artsy-like. But steak pinwheels, I have conquered thee. And found you to be delicious without the help of Ben Affleck's reverse engineering movie brain.