Posted on

Low and slow for larger cuts of beef

A couple of years ago, I got a Power Cooker XL pressure cooker. Fancy lil’ thing, compared to the pressure cookers I have used before. Don’t get me wrong–I love pressure cooking. Let me further qualify that statement–I love pressure cooking certain things. Large cuts of beef ain’t one of ’em. When I was younger and living in Houston, I ate a lot of beef and lamb (with a lot of my friends being from North Africa and devout Muslims.) So to cut down the time to cook it to the desired tenderness, I used a manual pressure cooker. Yeah, the kind with the big gasket in the lid and the weight and the valve and everything. The kind of cuts I would always cook would be of the stew meat variety–small chunks. Never leg of lamb–God forbid! Lamb shanks were always cooked low and slow, and the same thing went for my beef roasts. Well, I guess with the acquisition of this high falootin’ gadget, I thought I was gonna sit back and let this thing bend the time continuum and exponentially accelerate the cooking time for brisket. Wrong. I was SO wrong. Not like eating Velveeta and Steen’s Cane Syrup kinda wrong….it was the worst kind of culinary wrong there is.

Two weeks ago, I got a good piece of brisket and decided to try it out in the pressure cooker. There’s a neat little sauté function that lets you brown the meat or chicken or whatever in the same pot without having to dirty another damn pot to clean. Yay! I browned the brisket thoroughly on both sides. Took no time at all. So far so good. All of the recipes I found said to cook this particular size brisket at 70 kPa (which is the default pressure for the “cook” button) for 40 minutes. Which I did. Upon releasing the pressure and checking the tenderness of the brisket, I found no degree of tenderness whatsoever. At all. Disappointing, to say the least. I put it back in for another 20 minutes. Checked tenderness. Not. Even. Close. At this point, I was ready to chunk it in the trash because I was so disgusted by my arrogance, but I put it in the fridge anyway with the intent of using the slow cooker the next day to finish it.

Folks, I’m not even about to try a beef rump roast or even a seasoned pork roast in it for fear that I might chuck the pressure cooker outside out of disgust. Hard lesson learned: If it’s a large cut of beef, lamb or pork such as a roast or a shank…..low and slow. Low and slow, ladies and germs. My great-grandmother said that there ain’t no short cuts to good cooking, especially with meat. Jesus help me, she wasn’t kidding either. Do yourselves a favor and break out that Crock Pot. You might not have as much restraint as I did to NOT bring that damned pressure cooker to the range and put a 9mm bullet through it.

Posted on

Eggs in Gumbo–A Note

Y’all. I just saw a video of a woman adding eggs to what she called a gumbo. One of my cousins posted it to her page and it’s like a train wreck. I HAD to look. And then I was sorry. Yes, there are some stews to which I add eggs. BOILED EGGS. BOILED.  This woman added cracked raw eggs to her gumbo. Like it was some creole egg drop gumbo or some shit. Y’all, please. Don’t. Use eggs that are already boiled instead. In elementary school, the lunch ladies (we should call them lunch angels, because those women cooked up a storm for us every single day!) would cook shrimp and egg stew. I can still almost taste it. And it was boiled eggs. This is totally disregarding the fact that she had “fresh sarsidge” in her gumbo that wasn’t even cut (and yes it did look like a male appendage) and the “gumbo” didn’t look like a gumbo. The commentator Chilli69Palmer remarked that she “pissed off all Louisiana.” She may rightly have. Lawd Jesus, take the wheel.  The only time you should be dropping raw eggs in hot liquid is if you’re A.) making egg drop soup or B.) poaching the eggs in liquid for a brunch dish. Fa realz. Y’all stop this madness. If you put raw eggs in your gumbo, then like I said before, if the shoe fits, feel free to lace that bitch up and wear it, but I wouldn’t advertise that fact and I certainly wouldn’t be publishing any videos on it. Peace out.

Posted on

A word about the Trinity

I’ve seen a lot of variations of the “Trinity”–onion, bell pepper…..and something else. It’s always the “something else” that’s in contention. Sometimes, it’s garlic. Sometimes it’s celery. In a few instances, I’ve seen parsley. Yeah. Frickin’ parsley.  Personally, I prefer garlic. I’ve never seen my great-grandmother put celery in anything. Ever. I hate the smell of it. I hate the taste of it. I can’t even stand to feel it in my hands. If celery is a quintessential part of YOUR trinity and the shoe fits, by all means, lace that bitch up and wear it. Just not in my house. I would toss my cookies. Fa real. That being said, I’m not going to state “X cups of trinity” in any recipe. I have found that depending upon what your main ingredient is, there is a delicate balance to maintain between flavors. One recipe might call for more onion. Another may call for more bell pepper or garlic. The trinity is not the end-all tell-all one-size-fits-all seasoning for Cajun cooking (or any other kind of cuisine.) Not to get all Miss Science-y Smartass or anything, but there are different moisture contents for different vegetables, and it’ll mean the difference between a gravy that’s of perfect consistency and one that won’t even stick to your rice and drop straight to the bottom of your plate on it’s way to hell where it belongs. Pay attention and observe while you’re cooking. It’s not a Ronco product, for God’s sake. You can’t just “set it and forget it.”