Getting Ready for St. Patrick's Day: Home Cured Corned Beef

Okay friends, if you're going to cure your own brisket for St. Patrick's day Corned Beef and Cabbage, you need to start TODAY. That baby needs at least 5 days of salt-curing before even going into the pot.  I may not be of Irish descent, but one of the great things about growing up in New York is that no matter where your parents are from, having Corned Beef on St. Patrick's day (or any day of the year for that matter) can be just as close to your heart as Roast Pork on Chinese New Year.  I'm drooling already, just thinking of Reuben sandwiches and fresh corned beef hash I'm going to make from the leftovers. Even though it's one of my favorite foods, this is the first time I've ever made Corned Beef (yeah, you boil it for a really long time, not rocket science) let alone cured my own brisket.  So I started curing a brisket earlier this week for a test run.

Corned beef is basically a brisket that has been preserved in salt (and spices).  Incidentally, pastrami is simply corned beef that has been smoked.  As with most foods that originated out of necessity (before refrigeration and refrigerated transport of course) we still continue this tradition for love of the the unique flavor and texture that salt-curing imparts.  The tradition of having corned beef and cabbage on St. Patrick's Day is apparently of American origin.  According to the history channel, Irish Americans in the late 1800's substituted corned beef for the bacon that would have been traditional to their homeland.

For my maiden voyage into making Corned Beef and Cabbage, I went to my most reliable source - America's Test Kitchen Family Cookbook.  I used their recipes for both the cure and the cook and true to their word, it was practically foolproof and had really great flavor.  Oh, by the way I didn't have plain paprika on hand, so I used smoked paprika, which added just a hint of smokiness.  One of the things about home-curing your brisket, of course, is being able to control the seasoning - a longer cure will result in a more flavorful brisket but too long a cure and it will be overly salty.  I went with a 5 day cure myself  and after taking the cured brisket out of the ziplock bag, you could even feel the difference.   I was fortunate enough to find a thicker well-marbled point cut brisket (as opposed to the thinner and leaner flat cut that is more widely available).  After curing, the once supple bright red piece of organic Whole-Foods, locally raised brisket had released most of it's moisture and was firmer, almost leathery.  This was a good sign of course.

As directed I simmered that sucker for 3 hours after which the recipe says a fork should slide easily into the center of the meat.  Hmm.  not quite.  It probably could have gone longer, since it would take much longer to overcook the brisket to the point that it would fall apart, but I thought a little resistance was better for slicing - and it was fine.  It sliced really nicely across the grain and the flavor was spot on.

By the way, the recipe calls for a 3-1/2 to 4-1/2 lb. brisket, but between curing and cooking, there is a lot of shrinkage, so it's actually not as much meat as it sounds like.  Oh, and don't worry if your home-cured corned beef is not as pink as store bought - you won't miss those nasty nitrates and nitrites that are sometimes commercially added to preserve color.

SOURCE: Adapted from the America's Test Kitchen Family Cookbook

YIELD: Approximately 8 servings

INGREDIENTS:

for the cure:

1/2 c. kosher salt

1 Tbsp. cracked black peppercorns

1 Tbsp. dried thyme

2 tsp. allspice

2 tsp. paprika (or try smoked paprika)

2 bay leaves, crumbled

1 3-1/2 to 4-1/2 lb. beef brisket, trimmed

for cooking:

3 bay leaves

1 Tbsp. whole black peppercorns

1 Tbsp. whole mustard seeds

. Water

1-1/2 lbs. baby red or baby yukon gold potatoes

1-1/2 lbs. carrots, peeled and cut into thirds

1 2 lb. head of cabbage, cut into 8 wedges

Spicy deli-style mustard, for serving (I prefer Koscuisko brand for it's sharp horseradish-y flavor)

PROCEDURE:

1. Cure the brisket. Mix all the salt and spices together in a small bowl. Spear the brisket 30 times on each side with a meat fork or metal skewer. Rub each side evenly with the salt mixture then place it in a ziplock bag, forcing out as much air as possible. Put the brisket on a rimmed baking sheet and cover with a second one. Tape or tie the whole thing together and weigh it down with two bricks or large cans. Refrigerate, weighted, for 5 to 7 days. Rinse and pat the meat dry before cooking.

 2. To cook the brisket, add the corned beef, bay leaves, peppercorns, and mustard seeds in a large dutch oven or pot and cover by a 1/2 inch of water. Simmer for 2-3 hours until a fork slides easily into the center of the meat.

3. Transfer the meat and 1 cup of liquid to a baking dish and keep warm in a 200 degree oven while you cook the vegetables. Add the potatoes and carrots to the cooking liquid left in the pot and simmer until they begin to soften (10 minute). Then add the cabbage and simmer 10-15 minutes more or until all the vegetables are cooked.

4. To serve, remove the meat from the liquid and slice against the grain. Arrange the meat on a platter with the cooked vegetables and moisten with additional cooking liquid. Serve with spicy mustard on the side.

Note: Spearing and weighting down the brisket are essential steps for proper curing. I tried this once forgetting these steps and the cure didn't take so the brisket became rancid. Not pretty nor edible.

Braised Pork Belly Tacos

I’ve been getting quite the education on Mexican food and culture at work, since many of the kitchen staff and runners are from Mexico. Every Sunday, during their break between brunch and dinner, one of the runners picks up tacos and tortas from a nearby Mexican joint for the staff. My favorite is carnitas, or slow roasted pork, with a simple traditional garnish of lettuce, onions, cilantro, lime, and a choice of red or green salsa.

At home, I like to make soft tacos with braised pork belly. Yes, pork belly has become almost a culinary cliche and it seems every day another restaurant in the city jumps on the bandwagon. But it is a wonderfully forgiving and flavorful cut of meat and slow braising pork belly makes it ultra tender and moist.  It is the cut of pork that bacon is made from, so there is a lot of fat, but slow braising renders out a good deal of it anyway.  The acidity of salsa verde, pickled onion, and lime juice, and the bright citrusy flavor of cilantro balance out the rest.  This recipe is adapted from a demonstration given by Aaron Sanchez at the French Culinary Institute while I was a student there.

You will  note that the recipe calls for annatto paste.  Derived from the seed pods of the achiote tree, it is commonly used in Central and South American cooking to add color and flavor.  I find it adds more color than flavor so you can omit it if you don't have any on hand.  Incidentally, annatto is also the pigment that gives Cheddar cheese it's orange glow.

Ingredients, for 4-6 servings

For the pork:

2-½ lbs. boneless skinless pork belly, cut into large chunks approx. 4 oz. each

1 c. fresh squeezed orange juice

1 c. white distilled vinegar

4-6 cloves garlic, crushed

1-2 Tbsp. annatto paste

crushed red pepper (optional)

salt & pepper

vegetable oil

For the garnishes:

thinly sliced lettuce

fresh cilantro leaves

tomatillo salsa (salsa verde)

pickled onion, finely diced

lime wedges

2 dozen soft corn tortillas

Procedure:

1.  Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F and position the rack in the center of the oven.

2.  Lightly score the pork belly on the fat side by making a few 1/8" deep cuts.  Generously season the pork belly with salt and pepper.  Heat a few tablespoons of oil in a large skillet or flame-proof roasting dish over medium high heat until it shimmers.  Lightly sear the pieces of pork belly on each side.

Pork Belly, skin removed and cut into chunks

3.  Drain the excess fat from the pan and position the pieces of belly with the fat side down.  Add the orange juice, vinegar, garlic, annatto paste, and a pinch of crushed red pepper so that the liquid comes halfway up the pieces of meat. Cover the pan tightly with aluminum foil and bake in the oven 1-1/2 to 2 hours until the meat pulls apart easily with a fork.

Annato Paste

4. While the pork is cooking, prepare the garnishes.

5.  When the pork is cooked, let it rest covered in the cooking liquid for 5-10 minutes before pulling apart.  Once it has rested, shred the meat with a pair of forks, or your fingers and mix it with just enough of the braising liquid to coat each morsel.  Add salt to taste.

Braised Pork Belly

6.  Heat the tortillas one at a time in a dry skillet (cast iron works best) over medium-low heat until they are soft and keep them warm, wrapped in aluminum foil or a clean towel.

7.  To serve, place a little lettuce in a tortilla and top with pork.  Squeeze a little lime juice on the pork, and garnish with some pickled onion, salsa, and fresh cilantro leaves.

Quick Pickled Onions

A brief soak in a salty brine mellows the flavor of finely diced raw onion by essentially "cooking" it. Here is an easy recipe for quick pickled onion, that can be used as a classic garnish for Mexican tacos, Texas Chili, or Rhode Island Hot Weiners.

Ingredients:
1 cup white or yellow onion, finely diced or minced
1 tsp. kosher salt
1/2 to 3/4 c. white distilled vinegar

Procedure:
In a clean, non-reactive container, toss the onions with the salt.  Pour in enough of the distilled vinegar to cover the onions.  Let sit for 10-15 minutes before using.  Store tightly covered in the refrigerator for up to 10 days.

Tomatillo Salsa (Mexican Salsa Verde)

Though related to tomatoes, tomatillos should not be mistaken for green unripe tomatoes.  Unlike tomatoes, tomatillos have a thin papery husk that breaks open as it ripens.  The fruit itself has a tart citrus like flavor that is the signature of Mexican salsa verde.   The skin of the tomatillo is somewhat tough so it needs to be blanched in boiling water to soften the skin before using.

Fresh tomatillos

This is a basic recipe for tomatillo salsa (Salsa Verde) adapted from the one my fellow cooks use for family meal.

Ingredients, makes about 2 cups:

1 lb. fresh tomatillos, husks removed (approx. 4)

1-2 fresh jalepeno peppers (more if you like it hot)

1 small onion, chopped

1 bunch of fresh cilantro leaves, finely chopped

1/2 tsp. cumin

1 Tbsp. lime juice

salt, to taste

Procedure:

1.  Bring a large pot of water to a boil.  Add the tomatillos and jalepenos and cook until the tomatillos turn yellow.  Remove both the tomatillos and the jalepenos and cool them in ice water. Drain.

Blanched tomatillos

2.  Remove the stems from the tomatillos and jalepenos.  Combine all the ingredients in a blender or food processor and pulse until the mixture is a rough puree.

3.  For a more chunky salsa, blanch only the tomatillos, cool them in ice water, drain, then dice.  Stem and de-seed the jalepenos and finely dice them.  Combine the diced tomatillos and jalepenos with the remaining ingredients.

Learning to Love Queens: Flushing, NY

I got into a car accident a little over a month ago, which left the driver's side of my vehicle pretty banged up.  The repairs were just completed, so I went to pick up my car at the collision shop in Queens.  When I got there, I found they still needed to make some adjustments so I had about a half hour to kill and scope out some cheap eats for lunch.  Queens is the largest and most ethnically diverse borough in New York City, so there are a lot of options.  This post barely begins to scratch the surface of what's available out there.

the bustling intersection where Main street and Kissena Boulevard merge

The shop is located at a bustling commercial hub right at the end of the no. 7 subway line in the heart of Flushing.  One of the largest communities in Queens, Flushing boasts a larger Chinese population than Manhattan's Chinatown, and for $2 a ride, you can take a shuttle bus directly from one to the other.  The neighborhood is home many other ethnicities though:  Korean, Vietnamese, Indian, Mexican, Colombian, and West Indian, just to name a few.

Growing up, I spent many Sunday afternoons here, accompanying my mom as she did her weekly grocery shopping.  I had forgotten how crowded the streets were - there is definitely a different perception of personal space and many of the immigrants who live and work here are accustomed to overcrowded cities such as Hong Kong, Shanghai and Mumbai.  Indeed, to look around at all the different faces and storefronts bearing signs in an array of foreign languages, one might even feel as if he or she had been transported to another country.  There is a vibrant yet frenetic energy that can be somewhat overwhelming.  Nobody thinks twice about crossing against the light, double-parking or stopping in the middle of an intersection.  I couldn't help feeling a little like the foreigner here, cheerfully walking around with my earth-friendly canvas bag from Whole Foods as other pedestrians shoved past me, chattering to their friends in languages I couldn't understand and hurrying about their business.  Yet despite their differences, the many ethnic groups have found a way to co-exist here.

Get your noodle fix til 5 a.m.

The first stop on my half-hour mini-tour was a tiny dumpling stand next to the commuter rail station.  I was craving a roast pork bun - marinated roasted pork tenderloin, chopped and baked inside a brioche-like bun.   So I asked for a "cha tsu bao."  Instead the clerk handed me a small Styrofoam box containing four small pork dumplings.  I explained that I wanted a pork bun and he said it was called "da bao."  I was confused.  "Cha tsu" definitely means roast pork, "bao" means bun, and that's what I've been calling them all my life.  "Da-bao" turned out to be a doughy white steamed bun filled with a pork meatball, still not what I wanted.  I tried to explain again and the clerk finally told me that they didn't make "cha tsu bao."  So I paid for my "da-bao" and continued along my way.  Despite the confusion my "da bao" was delicious.  Even though the stand is tiny, all the dumplings appear to be made on a couple of stoves behind the counter.  And what a location!  I imagine the stand must be pretty busy during the morning rush hour, with commuters lining up to grab a quick "bao" before getting on the train.

Forget about doughnuts and coffee, this trainstop stand sells tea and dumplings instead

So, nibbling on my "da bao" I continued up Main Street past several shops selling knick-knacks (and knock offs too, probably), and a number of small groceries with outdoor fruit stands.  There were also a couple Chinese herbal shops displaying boxes of dried ginseng, seaweed, mushrooms and gobi berries outside.  It reminded me of mom's medicinal broths - bitter brews of chicken stock, ginseng and all manner of dried roots and mushrooms.  One formula was supposed to be good for your immune system, another "cleansed your blood" and yet another was "good for women."  As a child I often had to hold my nose to drink them down, but now I was making a mental note to learn more about these traditional remedies.

Just a few storefronts south of the big public library on Main Street, I found a little Latino eatery nestled among all the Asian ones.  The awning simply read "Latin Bakery & Restaurant" then underneath "Pollos y Carne a la Brasa."  Hmmm.  I suddenly had a craving for empanadas, so I checked inside to make sure there were indeed Spanish speaking patrons and employees inside (I've seen way too many Chinese-run "Tex-Mex" take-out joints in Queens that make burritos strangely reminiscent of moo-shu).  This place seemed promising.  All the menu offerings were listed in Spanish and included lunch specials of roast chicken, chicharron (fried pork rind), and tongue, with rice or potatoes and salad - all for under $10.  But I wanted empanadas, so I ordered one beef and one chicken empanada with salsa - both for about $3.  The chicken and the beef were really tender, moist and flavorful, and I appreciated that the two had different seasonings. I did happen to be in the neighborhood again that week and stopped in a second time at the Latin Bakery to get my empanada fix.  Maybe they had been sitting in the case for a while, but for some reason the pastry on the beef one that day was a little tough and chewy.  Boyfriend was with me and he ordered some chicarrones, which were not that crispy, also probably from sitting under the heat lamps.  The soup that day, Sopa de Tostones seemed to be flying across the counter, so I asked for a cup to go.  It was a comforting stew of green plaintains (tostones), potato, and beef that was so tender it just fell apart.  Hearty and delicious, with topping of their cilantro salsa verde, it was clear why this sopa was so popular with the regulars.

Beef empanada

Munching on my empanadas, I rounded the corner at the library and headed up Kissena Boulevard.  As I finished the last bite of beef, I noticed a little stand selling bubble tea -the perfect dessert drink to finish off my wanderer's lunch.  My personal favorite is the taro milk tea and every time I'm in the neighborhood I have to have one.  The creamy iced milk drink has purple tinge from the taro and comes with a giant straw to sip up chewy marble sized pearls of black tapioca from the bottom.  Aside from the fact that I love the flavor, there's a strange, childish appeal to sipping the flavored milk, then fishing around with the straw for the bits of tapioca.  It's kind of like drinking Nestle Quik with bits of Jello, but not gross like that sounds.  Anyway, bubble tea in hand, it realized it was time I made my way back to the collision shop to retrieve my car.

Taro milk bubble tea

Another day I met my parents in Flushing for lunch at Phô Vietnamese noodle house on Prince Street.  My mother ordered classic phô: thin rice noodles in a clear broth with thin slices of beef.  My father had phô with marinated grilled chicken, and I ordered a beef satay noodle bowl instead.  A tray on each table held the usual condiments:  siracha, chili sambal, fish sauce, soy sauce, sugar...oh, and salt and pepper of course.  The waiter also brought a plate of fresh bean sprouts, cilantro, and lime wedges for the phô.  My beef satay noodle bowl came with a generous portion of tender, thinly sliced beef atop a heap of wide hand-cut rice noodles (chow-fun) in a thick curry-like gravy of peanut and coconut milk.  The flavor was an aromatic combination of sweet and creamy coconut milk, and salty peanuts and sesame.  A generous garnish of chili sambal for that spicy punch, and some lime juice to cut through the creaminess of the gravy and it was perfect.  My mother's phô was lighter option.  It had an equally generous portion of beef and noodles, but was in a clear broth instead.  The flavor of the beef was good and it was tender, with a hint star anise and fennel flavor not unlike Chinese Five Spice powder.  But in the broth, I found this classic phô seasoning was so overpowering that none of the beef flavor came through.  The same broth was used in my father's phô, but the grilled chicken was delicious.  It was a lot of food, and for $6 a bowl, this place was definitely a bargain.

Classic pho (top left), fresh garnishes (top right), sauces and condiments (bottom left) and satay beef noodles (bottom right)

After lunch I accompanied my mom as she did some grocery shopping.  When I was a kid, there were always small grocery stores, fish markets, and butcher shops catering to the Chinese and Asian population, but Kam Man was the only big Chinese supermaket in the area.  Now there are several options for Asian supermarkets and they carry an even wider array of items.  There is the Korean chain, Hmart, and Hong Kong supermarket, but my mom prefers the Gold City Supermarket.  I could see why.  The produce section is huge, and stocks both familiar and more unusual items. The same is true for the meat and fish departments.  Behind the meat counter, I think I counted four or five clerks taking orders, and three other butcher staff portioning and keeping the cases stocked.  If you know how to de-bone a fish, you can take home a whole fish for about $3.00 /lb, and everything seemed really fresh.  There were fish on ice as well as live fish in a wall of tanks behind the counter.  I stood by and watched as one fishmonger wrangled some live prawns into a net for his customer.

Imported mangosteens (top left), kohlrabi (top right), burdock (bottom left), and the dreaded and infamous durian fruit (bottom right)

There is also a good selection of Asian dry goods and specialties.  The tea selection ranged anywhere from $3 for a box of green tea bags, to $18 for a tin of specialty loose tealeaves.  I have to admit one thing that did skeeve me out a bit was using the rest room there (What is it about Chinese bathrooms?  I never wanted to use the scary bathroom at Grandma's).  Maybe it was a fluke, but the soap dispenser was empty, so I really hope there is another hand washing station for the employees, and that they use it.  Anyway, online reviews of the Gold City Supermarket warn that weekends are madness, especially in the parking lot.  Thankfully, one of the perks of restaurant life is that I have weekdays off, so I can avoid the usual crowds at places like the grocery store, the bank and the post office.  So lucky for Mom and me it was a Tuesday afternoon.  It was busy, but the store wasn't crowded or overwhelmed with shoppers, so we were able to find parking easily, and didn't have to wait in line to check out.

I'm going to have to find a recipe for these!

Yes, that is what it says

A wide array of fresh fish and seafood

Fishmonger wrangling live prawns into a plastic bag for a customer

So, after Mom finished her shopping, we headed next door to a crowded little Chinese bakery so I could finally satisfy my craving for "cha tsu bao," and get another bubble tea, of course.  As I made my way up to the counter, I overheard one of the clerks at the counter was chatting with an older woman.  "There you go mammy," she said as she handed the customer her goods.  "See you next time."  I smiled to myself upon hearing this Latino term of familiarity emerge in a Chinese accent as the clerk addressed a regular customer - an older Caucasian woman picking up some of her favorite Chinese baked goods.  So there was Flushing, summed up in this brief exchange - a deliciously random confluence of culture, food, and language.  Maybe just maybe, there's something to the melting pot theory after all.

Latin Restaurant & Bakery
4141 Main St
Flushing, NY 11355
(718) 961-8900

Phô Vietnamese Restaurant
3802 Prince St
Flushing, NY 11354
(718) 461-8686

Gold City Supermarket
4631 Kissena Blvd
Flushing, NY 11355
(718) 762-7688