Soy-Braised Lamb Shanks

from Home Cooking with Jean-Georges: My Favorite Simple Recipes by Jean-Georges Vongerichten

• Grapeseed or other neutral oil
• 4 whole (2-pound) lamb shanks, trimmed and patted dry
• 2 medium yellow onions, sliced
• 2 medium shallots, sliced
• 13 garlic cloves, sliced
• Kosher salt
• 2 Asian pears, cored and cut into 2-inch chunks
• 1 bunch scallions, green parts only
• 2 lemongrass stalks, smashed and thinly sliced
• 5-inch piece fresh ginger, peeled and chopped
• 1 fresh long red (finger) chile, stemmed, seeds, and sliced [Neglected to remember this one]
• 4 whole star anise
• 1 1/4 cups semidry Gewurztraminer or Riesling [I used a random white wine I had already opened rather than going out to buy the right kind of 2 servings]
• 1 cup champagne vinegar [They only had normal white wine vinegar at Stop & Shop]
• 3/4 cup soy sauce
• 1/2 cup honey

Cut the portions of lamb shank in half since I was only cooking for 2.  I would have had to brown them in batches clearly if I had purchased more.  They barely fit.

Mise en place.

Cooking the onions, garlic, and shallots until golden brown and tender.

Dump the braising liquid in, bring to a boil, and then throw in the oven for about 3 1/2 hours.

Reducing the resulting liquid.

Resulting dish alongside parmesan encrusted summer squash from the same cookbook.  The squash is not really complicated enough to warrant the usual blog treatment but it was tasty.  The suggested side for the dish was a Jalapeno and Green Apple Duo but I'm not going to approach a side dish for 8 while cooking for two.
The braised meat was nice enough for braised meat, but I wish the flavors had been a bit more in my face.  The chile probably would have helped.

Ori said he liked watching me cook with such determination.

Lemongrass Chicken (BRW)

• 2 lemongrass stalks, trimmed and thinly sliced
• 2 large shallots, roughly chopped
• 2 garlic cloves, roughly chopped
• 1 small fresh red chile, stemmed and roughly chopped, or 1 teaspoon hot red pepper flake
• 1 tablespoon nam pla or nuoc mam [Thai and Vietnamese fish sauce, respectively]
• 1 chicken, 3-4 pounds, cut into serving pieces, or 2 1/2 to 3 pounds chicken parts, trimmed of excess fat
• Salt and black pepper to taste
• 1 tablespoon corn, grapeseed, or other neutral oil.
  

Everything but the front piece that I've tried from a stalk of lemongrass is inedible. Sometimes I wonder how it occurred to someone to eat a particular vegetable or fruit or herb that doesn't seem inherently obvious.
Maybe I'll understand after reading Harold McGee.

Puree the first 5 ingredients for the marinade. Bittman suggests doing this a day in advance if possible. I don't usually re-read recipes until the day I cook something. is that so bad?

The chicken should preferably also be allowed to sit in the refrigerator for several hours before cooking. Didn't plan for this one either.

Browning the chicken in my cast-iron skillet which I'm using way more often these days.

The dish was very reminiscent of food memories of my mother's cooking. The recipe is basic enough that maybe it's more or less the exact recipe for whatever this reminds me of.
It probably would've hit me harder in the flavor department if I allowed all that time for flavor-melding and marinating.

Apparently this is based on a dish from Bittman's long-time friend Jean-Georges Vongerichten. I wonder if Jean-Georges' take is more elevated. On a recent trip to NYC, I had the prix fixe lunch at his ABC Kitchen.
It was quite a beautiful environment, and the waitstaff wore a casual uniform of jeans and well-fitting, bright country checks. I had the gazpacho with cherry tomatoes and watermelon (good and bright), ricotta and farm egg raviolo with a rich pork ragu, and the zucchini cake. I wasn't blown out of the water (though I'm always looking for that kind of experience), but the tiny candied lime on top of the cake was quite lovely.