Old Grand-Dad

One of the best decisions I've made all week was making a pot of chili the other night. It's the perfect sort of comfort food for the weather that has descended upon us in the past few days; outside it's crisp and cold and clear, and pretty thoroughly October.

I think I have discovered a new fondness for making things with beans, and its because I've finally made a transition from using them canned to going through the steps of soaking and cooking them. This process takes about 8 million hours, which flies in the face of the prevailing convenience food culture. While it's tempting to try and speed up the soaking or the cooking, I think there is some sort of value to engaging in the long slow process. It's similar to the sort of feeling when you're waiting for bread to rise. It's nice to find these certain realms where you can just set something off to do its slow and sure magic, and by taking part in this it reminds you that you don't need to be in such a hurry about everything either. Also, it's not like soaking beans is hard or anything. You just soak them. AND, they are a lot cheaper than buying the beans in cans. For a dollar fifty I can get a bag that is I dunno, maybe three or four cans worth. I'll start soaking on a Monday morning, cook them in the evening, and then have a ready supply for the whole rest of the week.

That is exactly what I did this past Monday, and so on Tuesday, after a cold and windy bike ride home from work, I decided it was time for some chili. The main inspiration in my chili making was this bottle of Old Grand-Dad whiskey that had about 1/2 a cup left in it. This is my second recipe this month to whiskey. I think that it is a crucial additive to fall and winter cooking, and there are probably only a few things that wouldn't benefit from it. One of my housemates just shared a weekend camping anecdote about cooking apples and peaches over a fire in aluminum foil and their own inspired moment of adding whiskey to the fired fruit mix. There is no way that doesn't sound delicious.

In the chili wanted something that would be deep, dark, and sweet, so in addition to the whiskey some of the other important tones came from brown sugar, blackstrap molasses, tons of cumin, cinnamon, oregano, and rosemary. It was also a really great way to use some stray peppers and eggplant I had lying around from the garden, as well a pile of tomatoes given to us recently from some other gardens. My own tomato supply is now a thing of the past, and has been replaced by rows of radishes.

Old Grand-Dad's Chili
Red and black beans cooked (I made about 3 dried cups worth)
Corn or vegetable oil
2 Onions, diced
1 tsp. salt
Green peppers (I used 2 bell and 3 or 4 banana peppers), chopped
1 small eggplant, chopped
4 carrots, chopped
1 Serrano chili, minced
3 garlic cloves
2 rosemary sprigs
3 oregano sprigs
3 T. cumin
2 tsp. chili powder
1tsp. cinnamon
3lbs tomatoes, chopped
(You can always use a canned tomatoes if you don't have fresh. In fact, if they are out of season definitely used canned tomatoes. When the product is canned, it is canned in a ripened state, whereas the fresh ones you buy in stores are only fake ripe and kind of gross.)
1 can tomato soup
2/3 cup brown sugar
2 T. Blackstrap Molasses
1/2 cup whiskey
Salt and pepper to taste

Cook the beans in a big pot. Set aside.

In a large skillet, get the vegetable oil going and saute the onions with the salt until they are nice and translucent. Add the rest of the vegetable, first the peppers, then the carrots, then the eggplant, and finally the garlic along with the herbs. You can add some of the cumin and chili powder at this point, but I usually reserve the bulk of this until the mixture is in soup form. Cook for another 5 minutes. When everything starts to look a little brown dump in your chopped tomatoes, and then the tomato soup. At this point you should add the rest of your cumin, chili powder, and the cinnamon.

This should simmer in the skillet for 15 to 20 minutes. While it's sitting there, you can mix in the brown sugar and the molasses. The molasses really helps give it a deep rich tone. Also, the whiskey can go in at this point. Once things are really smelling good, add the skillet contents to the big soup pot full of beans. Everything should simmer together for another 20 minutes. Feel free to adjust the sweetness, spiciness, and saltiness of it all as you see fit.

I paired it with toasted bread and some garden lettuces. This makes a lot of chili so there will be leftovers for the coming week.

A Letter to the next president

By Michael Pollan. So good.

http://www.nytimes.com/2008/10/12/magazine/12policy-t.html?pagewanted=1&_r=4&ref=magazine

October's Beginning

I think that October is marking a very positive time for me. The growth in the garden is mirrored by my increasing excitement over things to come in my own life. First of all, it's fall which means really exciting things in the realm of root vegetables, my favorite things ever. The carrots, turnips and exotic radishes are doing so well, and I got a new area all ready yesterday to plant some more. I will have to pull out the tomato plants soon, and while this seems to mark an end to some sort of era, I am happy for the space to plant new and different things.

Also, it means sweaters, and soups, and trees changing color, blankets, bundling, and reading. Also writing more. It means I finally feel like doing things, and really loving a lot of the things I'm doing. Oh, and sweet potatoes. Maybe an outing into the mountains, and a cabin weekend. Music. Also apples! The real stuff, not that stuff found in grocery stores. I am hoping to delve into the unexplored realms of pastry, and hone my bread baking. In one of my more momentous moments, I just bought two tickets to India for next February, which marks the start of a new sort of life that I will be so happy to live with my companion.

One of my first culinary homages to the fall came last week, inspired by a visit to the Williamsburg, VA farmer's market. I was down there to visit one of my best friends who decided to move a little further south. The market was so great. It had everything I could have wanted but without all the alienating bustle of the Washington DC markets. I came away with so many treasures: goats' milk soap, delicious cheeses, spelt bread, orchard apples, and 3 pounds of sweet potatoes. My first sweet potatoes of the year! I bought the apples and potatoes together, and new instantly how I wanted to handle them:

Whiskeyed Appled Sweet Potatoes

3lbs Sweet potatoes

2lbs Apples

2/3 cup brown sugar

1 tsp cinnamon

1 pinch nutmeg

1 Cup cheap whiskey

1/2 Cup butter (1 stick)

Salt and pepper

Preheat oven to 350 degrees

Start out by piercing the skins of the sweet potatoes, and then microwaving until they are softened slightly. I had two large ones, and it took about 6 minutes each. Slice them into a good eating size. Then, core and chop the apples, placing all this into a 9 X 13 baking dish. Sprinkle the brown sugar, cinnamon, and nutmeg on top, mixing it in a bit among the slices. Pour the cup of whiskey over the ensemble. Dot with slices of butter. Top with salt and pepper to taste.

Cover the mixture with tin foil, and place in the oven for about 20 minutes. Take the foil off, and bake for 15-20 minutes more, until everything is soft and done looking.

Bear in mind that the quantities here are very general, and can be changed according to taste. The most important aspect is having good base ingredients. I find there is a huge difference between store sweet potatoes, which are pretty bland, and locally grown ones raised on a smaller scale. In fact, I hated sweet potatoes until I started digging them up for myself on a farm. I wish I had gotten my act together and started planting my own sweet potato slips this year. The farmer's market product made a fine replacement though, and made a really simple dish that evokes so much of the goodness of fall.