Menudo Rojo [Red-chile Tripe Soup with Fresh Garnishes] (AM)

• 2 pounds beef tripe
• About 1 tablespoon salt
• 1 large lime, juiced
• 1 small cow's or medium pig's foot, split lengthwise
• 1 pound marrow bones, cut in 1-inch cross sections
• 6 cloves garlic, peeled and chopped
• 1/2 medium onion, chopped
• 2 teaspoons dried oregano
• 4 medium (about 1 1/3 ounces total) dried chiles cascabeles nortenos or California/New Mexico chiles, stemmed, seeded and deveined [Couldn't find those special peppers.  Used New Mexico chiles instead.]
• a general 1/2 teaspoon cumin seeds, ground
• Salt, about 1 teaspoon

Wash tripe in multiple changes of warm water.  Sprinkle over with salt and lime juice and scrub the tripe vigorously against itself.  Let sit for 30 minutes.

By this time, the tripe is actually starting to smell a bit funky, but you're going to have to do the multiple changes of warm water stuff all over again anyway.

Cut tripe into pieces about 2 inches long and 1/2 inch wide.  Bring to a boil and simmer for 10 minutes, then drain.

I suspect there are quite a lot of ways to clean tripe.

Add more water, the marrow bones, and the pig's foot.  Bring to a boil, reduce heat to medium-low and skim off the foam for a few minutes.

Add half of the garlic along with the onion and oregano.  Partially cover and simmer until tripe is tender, 2-3 hours.  I used Mexican oregano since after all this is a Mexican dish.  I might have blanked on getting the oregano in the pot, but it was disappointing to pick out all these still unsoftened herbs out of the dish when I ate it.

Toasting the chiles.  I may have over toasted some of them.

Soak toasted chiles in boiling water for 30 minutes.  I think the overtoasted ones resisted complete softening.

Blend chiles, 1/3 cup menudo broth, remaining garlic, and cumin.

Strain through a sieve into the stockpot.

I knew I was taking a risk by making a dish that is far from being a "whole" meal, but I've been curious about this dish for a while and honestly where am I going to be able to order this?

The dish is often eaten for breakfast and is considered a hangover cure by some.  I did feel as if the dish felt pretty restorative, but since it didn't seem to make sense as something that I would bring to work and eat on its own for lunch, I wound up throwing a lot out.  By the fifth day, the texture of the tripe had softened so much that it was simply disagreeable to me.  After a lifetime of eating dim sum tripe, I think this cut of an animal should spring back in your mouth at least a little.

All in all, it wasn't a total failure, but it definitely wasn't a dish that falls under my usual criterion for actually wanting to execute something with the good faith that I might eat most of it.  Amusingly enough, for 10 seconds I tried to listen to Menudo while preparing menudo.  This did not work.

Oh and I guess I'm thankful that unlike some traditional recipes I had heard of while googling this dish, Rick Bayless's recipe does not take 7 hours to make.

Adobo de Pollo, De Lujo (Red Chile-Braised Chicken)

Most likely my last Rick Bayless entry for a few months since I cooked through all the main course recipes from his iPad app. However, his Authentic Mexican cookbook is lined up for a few months from now.

• 1 1/2 tablespoons vegetable or olive oil
• 1 2 1/2- to 3- pound chicken, cut into quarters [I just used a bunch of chicken thighs. Chickens sold at conventional grocery stores that my parents take me to are twice as heavy. Someday I'll be able to afford real meat.]
• 1 medium white onion, sliced 1/4- inch thick
• 8 unpeeled garlic cloves, roasted in their skins, then peeled
• 4 ounces (about 8 medium) dried ancho chiles, stemmed, seeded, toasted and rehydrated
• 1 1/2 teaspoons dried Mexican oregano
• 1/2 teaspoon black pepper, preferably freshly ground
• 1/8 teaspoon cumin seeds, preferably freshly ground
• Scant 1/4 teaspoon cloves, preferably freshly ground
• 2 2/3 chicken broth, plus a little more if necessary (divided use) [I reserved a full 2-cup Pyrex of chile soaking liquid)
• 1 pound peeled sweet potatoes, boiling potatoes (like the red-skin ones) or chayote, peeled if you wish, pitted and cut into 1/2 inch pieces
• 4 cup sliced (1/2-inch-wide slices), full-flavored greens (choose chard, beet, or turnip tops, lamb's quarters, collard or the like), well-rinsed (optional) [At least I know now, that a bunch of collards is pretty much 4 cups and I really didn't need that red chard.]
• Salt
  

I got both of these packs of dried ancho chiles for about $4.50. Far less than what it would have cost me for one pack at Whole Foods.
I love my recent discovery of honest-to-god well-stocked bodegas in East Boston. Such places were ever present in my part of Brooklyn, Sunset Park and Bay Ridge. The former is one of the biggest neighborhoods for Mexican in NYC.


Cleaned according to Rick Bayless' direction which make somewhat more sense than those provide for Bittmans' Enchiladas with Mole a few weeks back.


Argh, I'm throwing out all this spicy goodness


The cleaned bodies of the dried chiles.


I toasted the chiles until they lightened in color and became more aromatic. I soaked them in hot water while I prepped everything else.


Unpeeled cloves of garlic.


I dry-toasted them in my cast-iron skillet, and in some areas, the skin and flesh fused together


I gave up at this point, figuring the sauce would be strained at some point anyway.


Spices.


Mise en place.


Browning the chicken.





The remaining fat was still so hot that it continued to sizzle even after I turned the burner off.


Frying the onions. Ten minutes at medium in such an amount of hot oil strikes me as a little excessively hot, but they weren't burnt to a crisp.


Garlic, chiles, oregano, black pepper, cumin, cloves, and 2/3 cup of liquid pureed in a food processor. Though the recipe only called for a medium strainer to press the sauce through my roommate had moved out with that, and at some point I did spend the extra money to get a fine one for purposes like straining sauce.
Which I had never done before and I now realize is totally worth it. Well I guess I always knew it but hadn't gotten around to buying the equipment yet.


Stirring the SMOOTH sauce into the onions. Cook down until thickened and noticeably darker.


Stir in broth and vinegar and simmer for 15 minutes.


Adding in the sweet potatoes and chicken and cooking for 15 minutes on medium-low.
I had to add a lot more broth that suggested to reach what I thought a normal height for braising.


Add in greens and chicken breasts (if I was using them) and cook for 20 more minutes.


Set aside the chicken.


And boil down the vegetables and remaining liquid to a medium consistency.


A good dish though still not quite what I had back in Chicago.

Camarones Enchipotlados (Chipotle Shrimp)

from the Rick Bayless iPad app:
recipe to follow as per Joe A's request

• 1 15-ounce can diced canned tomatoes in juice (preferably fire-roasted), drained OR 1 pound (about 2 medium-large round or 4 or 5 plum) ripe tomatoes, roasted and peeled [They didn't have fire-roasted tomatoes at Stop and Shop, so I broiled some cheapo tomatoes since the techniques really concentrates their flavors anyway]
  
• 2 or 3 canned chipotle chiles en adobo
• 1 tablespoon chipotle canning sauce
• 2 tablespoons vegetable or olive oil
• 3 garlic cloves, peeled and finely chopped
• About 1 1/2 cups fish or chicken broth or water [Somehow didn't really occur to me to boil the shrimp shells from prepping the dish and making a broth from that. Silly Judy.]
  
• Salt
• 1 to 1/4 pounds medium-large shrimp (21 to 25 shrimp per pound), peeled and deveined, tail left on if you wish
• About 1/4 cup (loosely packed) fresh cilantro leaves for garnish

1. Puree the tomatoes and chiles. Pour the drained tomatoes into a blender or food processor. Add the chipotle chiles and chipotle canning sauce and process until smooth.
2. Sautee the garlic. In a very large (12-inch) skillet, heat the oil over medium. Add the garlic and stir until fragrant and golden, about 1 minute.
3. Cook down the base for the sauce. Pour the tomato mixture into the pan. Cook, stirring frequently, for 5 minutes as the pureee thickens and the flavors meld.
4. Finish the sauce. Add enough broth or water to achieve a light tomato sauce consistency. Taste and season highly with salt, usually about 1 teaspoon.
5. Cook the shrimp. Add the shrimp to the pan. Cook, stirring nearly constantly, until the shirmp are cooked through, about 4 minutes. Stir in a little more broth or water if the sauce has thickened too much. Scoop onto dinner plates and sprinkle with cilantro leaves.

Tomatoes on my trusty quarter-sheet cake pan.
Which will soon get a couple workouts for its intended purpose this month. Blog entry on Apple Cake (MMB) quite soon.


About 15 minutes under the broiler. It would have probably been easier to core the tomatoes when they were raw, but... Next time.


The peeled shrimps and their shells. I read somewhere that leaving the tails on promotes better cooking of the shrimp.
Should've used those shells to make stock for the broth but I just threw them out.


Blended sauce.


Sauteing garlic for the Nth time.


Cooking down the sauce a bit to concentrate the flavors.


Thinning out the resulting mixture with boxed chicken broth and cooking the shrimp.


Mmm, quite good and simple to put it off. I will definitely cook it again.
Joe A. was there and the recipe struck him as simple enough that he would want to cook the dish. When asked if he could help, I had him pick off the cilantro leaves.
However, I realize that every time I use fresh herbs I should practice chiffonading them.

Cochinita Pibil (Slow-Cooked Achiote Pork)

from the Rick Bayless iPad app

• 1/2 3.5-ounce package prepared achiote seasoning paste
• 3/4 cup fresh lime juice (divided use)
• Salt
• 1/2 1-pound package banana leaves, defrosted if frozen
• 3 pounds bone-in pork shoulder roast
• 1 large white onion, sliced about 1/4 inch thick
• 1 large red onion, thinly sliced
• 2 large garlic cloves, roasted in their skins, then peeled
• 8 medium (about 3 ounces total) fresh habenero chiles, roasted and stemmed
• 2 tablespoons fresh lime juice
• 24 corn tortillas, heated (optional)

An awful lot of limes to make out to 3/4 cup lime juice. I had bought a bottle of juice earlier in the event that I'd be lazy.


Mise en place.
Threw a few radishes in the mix because my red onion wasn't all that large. Also, quick lime-pickled radishes are pretty much my go to garnish/vegetable with Mexican food. Which it appears I will be doing more often in the near future.


Lime juice, salt and El Yucateco achiote paste. It struck me as weird that it is also known as annatto paste when I've been led to believe that annatto is only used for color.
After eating this dish and researching on Wikipedia, recado rojo (Yet another name for this!) is:

a popular blend of spices from Mexico. Originally a Mayan blend, it is now strongly associated with the Mexican cuisine of Yucatan and Belizean cuisine. The spice mixture usually includes annatto, Mexican oregano, cumin, clove, cinnamon, black pepper, allspice, garlic, and salt.^[1][2] The annatto seeds dye the mixture red, and this gives the meat or vegetables it seasons a distinctive red hue.

And there I was wondering how the hell the dish was seasoned with just annatto. Silly me.


Blended until there were no obvious lumps and about ten more seconds. (Though some remained)


Lining my Cuisinart Multi-Clad stockpot with banana leaves.
It somehow got left off my shopping list, but shopping for them at Chinatown would have given me the same anxiety even if I had thought ahead. I didn't notice until I had pretty much given up that there's another freezer by the produce section at C-Mart and a frenzied phone call to my mother (I swear to God I've seen her use them on occasion). Ask the employees she says, but I only get dull stares and then I get ignored.
I'm sure this asking them is an okay proposition if you speak the language.


Pork shoulder, onion, and what I had no reason to believe was a sauce made of anything but annatto at this point.


Banana leaves folded over and then into a 300 degrees Celsius oven for 4 hours.


Thinly slice red onion and radish. Oh, and I sliced my finger too. Next time I use a mandoline, I'm going to wear a band-aid before I hurt myself as armor.


Yumminess.


Pan-roasting habaneros and garlic in a pan.


Softened and charred.


In the blender. I'm not sure why Rick Bayless suggests to start the blending before adding the liquid (lime juice). Reading what must be countless recipes at this point, this makes no sense since a blender can't do its job without liquid.


I had lost a few habaneros to decay in the fridge, but this salsa is mostly likely the spiciest thing I've ever made.

Not the spiciest thing I've ever eaten. I'd probably give that award to the first time I had Jerk Beef at Davis Square's Redbones. I couldn't believe how a restaurant served a dish that was inedibly spicy and that this was a popular dish to boot. Over the years, I've ranted about it, but never dared to order it again.
A couple years ago, I met up with friends there, and though I wasn't hungry, I ordered a slider of the meat. It was a perfectly palatable heat level. My lord, I wonder if they ever realized how bad that batch from five years ago was and if they threw it out or just keep serving it to dumb people like me.


Cooking has happened! The banana leaves lost their vibrancy of color.


Shredded the meat with a wooden spoon.


And I had some beautiful tacos. Still not a Bayless dish that I'm utterly in love with, but at this point I realize I'm looking for the chipotle. Not that I'm knocking the tacos that harshly. Although I probably wouldn't pass up Taco Bell if I came across one (They've disappeared in the Boston area), I've had authentic tacos at least five or six times in the couple years which is kind of a lot. And these totally stood-up among the best tacos I've had. Plus, two tacos were sufficient unlike what I imagine would've taken 6 tacos at Lone Star.

on chipotle: Surely I'll solve this issue when I make Camarones Enchipotlados (Chipotle Shrimp) in a couple weeks.