What you knead

It’s been quite the day of culinary experiments in my house. Hubby decided he was in the mood to expand his already-respectable cooking repertoire and settled on Gordon Ramsay’s pork belly recipe as his adventure of choice. However, he quickly found out pork belly is harder to find in Indianapolis than a shred of hope for this year’s Colts team. The guys at Kincaid’s finally came through with a cut and I was subsequently banished from the kitchen while hubby got down to business.

Once the belly had baked, an afternoon-long waiting period ensued. I took this as my cue to get into the kitchen for some baking of my own. Wracking my brain for something to do with the fresh dill in my refrigerator, I recalled a card in my recipe box for dill onion bread. Or, in my house, dill bread. (Tangent – I fed the toddler his first taste of onions the other night in an omelet, and he loved them. But I digress…)

If I remember correctly, I believe I got this recipe from my mom years ago, but I don’t recall her ever actually making it. Thinking it would be a fun activity to share, I enlisted the toddler to help. My little sous chef did a surprisingly good job, and was pleased as punch to help me measure out ingredients, stir them together and even knead out a little loaf of his very own.

Recipes that require things like yeast and precise timing intimidate me a little bit. Even though I’ve made bread before, I couldn’t help but fear throughout the whole process that I was doing something terribly wrong and would wind up with flat loaves as hard as hockey pucks. Have to admit, I was pleasantly surprised at how simple this bread was to make. There’s not much to it, really, not many ingredients and quite a bit of downtime in the middle. I mixed the dough, kneaded it smooth (a very soothing tactile motion, if you ask me) and put it in a bowl on top of the stove to proof.

bread dough on the rise

Happily, it rose like magic. I let it double and punched it down as per the directions, brushed it with egg white and let the toddler sprinkle sesame seeds on top. Into the pans for a second rise, and then into the oven it went.

Thirty minutes later, voila. Real live actual bread. Somehow, we managed to resist cutting into the fragrant little loaves as soon as they came out of the oven and instead, saved them for dinner.

fresh baked dill bread hot out of the oven

The results: the pork belly was wonderfully flavorful, but extremely rich. There’s really very little meat to be had on this cut of pork; it’s mostly fat. Imagine a big slab of roasted bacon and you’ll start to get the idea. I can’t imagine how Gordon fans eat big squares of this stuff. The English cuts must be much leaner is all I can figure.  Still, it tasted yummy and the crunchy greasy crackling on top was delicious, a huge hit with the toddler.

pork belly and roasted veg a la hubby

The bread was the teensiest bit dry (I think I got worried that it would still be gummy inside and left it baking a little longer than I should have), but basically it was good. Nice and crusty on the outside, tender and soft within. The dill flavor was very subtle, and went perfectly with the pork belly and the fantastic roasted vegetables hubby served alongside.

sliced dill bread

My son was super proud of “his” bread, and declared it much better than “mommy’s bread.” Watch out, Gordon. You might just have some up-and-coming competition…

the toddler enjoying the fruits of his labor

Anthony and Eric come to Indy

Last night, hubby and I had the pleasure of attending “An Evening with Anthony Bourdain and Eric Ripert” at Clowes Hall on the lovely campus of Butler University. I saw this event touted in Indianapolis Monthly a few months ago and immediately clipped the item and taped it to my desk at eye-level so I’d remember to buy tickets as soon as they went on sale. Good thing I did, too — the hall was PACKED. Having lost a lot of faith in the local food scene in light of the recent downtown cupcake controversy (a whole other blog entry to come), it was somehow heartening for me to see such a huge number of passionate fellow foodies turning out for this occasion.

I’ve been a fan of Anthony Bourdain’s ever since I got my hands on a copy of his opus, “Kitchen Confidential,” years ago. (I could kick myself for forgetting to bring it along; of course, there was a booksigning session after the show. Duh.) Anthony’s behind-the-scenes glimpse into the steamy, seedy underbelly of the New York restaurant world is a must-read for anyone considering a career in the culinary arts. Don’t be fooled by what you see on Food Network; for most, the life of a chef is a difficult, terribly unglamorous proposition literally full of blood, sweat and tears.

I must confess, I don’t watch Anthony’s Travel Channel show “No Reservations” religiously, but I make sure to set the DVR when he’s visiting a destination I’m interested in. Such as the recent 100^th episode filmed in Paris with Eric Ripert — the dishes and restaurants featured made my mouth absolutely water.

In so much as Anthony Bourdain is a rock-and-roll chef, French born and bred Eric Ripert is a rock-star chef of another ilk – earning all kinds of accolades at his NYC-stationed Le Bernardin, easily regarded one of the best restaurants in the country, if not the world. While Ripert does have his own show on PBS called “Avec Eric,” he’s perhaps gaining the most recognition and popularity thanks to his frequent guest judging appearances on “Top Chef.” He’s cute, charming and got a killer French accent.

Hubby and I weren’t sure what to expect from this event format-wise, but were both plenty amped about it. There was a great buzz among the audience before our culinary idols even took the stage, and the excitement was palpable. I half expected to see some half-crazed women rushing the stage to throw their panties. I was tempted. Heck, I think even hubby was tempted.

The duo was introduced right on time and took the floor, set up living-room style with a couple comfy chairs flanked by ferns. A small table in between held an iced selection of local Sun King beers (awesome product placement on their part), which Anthony and Eric took turns cracking into as the evening rolled along.

Anthony Bourdain is one long, tall, lanky drink of water. He’s got to be 6’ 3”, but I doubt the guy weighs more than 175 soaking wet. He isn’t what you’d call classically handsome, but damn, he is ruggedly sexy. He came out dressed in jeans, white shirt, sport coat and his trademark dusty cowboy boots, looking like a renegade who’s decided to make an effort to clean up and look respectable, but not too much. Ripert, on the other hand, cut a dashing figure in a dark gray Armani suit and white shirt, but still managed to appear totally comfortable, casual and not at all the French chef with an attitude he has every right to be.

Together, Anthony and Eric have a terrific rapport and banter back and forth with plenty of well-meaning digs and teasing like good friends do. It’s all very amusing to observe, as if you’re eavesdropping on the two of them carrying on heated, philosophical discussions over pints at their favorite tavern.

The “discussion” started by Anthony interviewing his buddy Eric with a series of playfully skewering questions, even going so far as to touch upon Eric’s recent dressing down of Gordon Ramsay for his use of bullying tactics to instill fear and worship. Eric’s much more a believer in treating underlings with respect and earning their praise through inspiration, not intimidation. Well said, my man. I couldn’t agree more. In the small handful of professional kitchens I’ve had the privilege of working in, I’ve never seen an executive chef throw plates or call anyone a donkey.

Ripert then returned the favor with his own interrogation, looking every bit the prosecutor, asking Anthony to state his age for the record (54, btw) and asking him to define exactly what his job is. It was all in good fun, and the audience enjoyed plenty of laughs as a result.

Hot-seat questions completed, Anthony and Eric both took a chair and leapt into a lively conversation covering a variety of food-related topics including sustainable-fishing and snout-to-tail practices, the dumbing down of ethnic cuisines in America (particularly Olive Garden-variety Italian – Anthony’s wife is a native of Sardinia and this is obviously a hot-button topic for him), what country you’d like to die in, the movement toward localvore products, and the importance of honing a set of basic cooking skills (bring back home ec classes!!). Anthony is sure the world would be a better place if prior to having sex with a new partner, you also have the talent and the wherewithal to prepare a proper omelet for him or her in the morning.

The two play off each other like comedians with perfect timing. Charming Ripert comes across as thoughtful, intelligent and intense, while the abrasive Bourdain lightens the mood with his no-holds-barred-style delivery of opinions sprinkled with curses and bold assessments. He’s brutally honest in his views, but even so, he still comes across as a nice guy. A nice guy who’s not afraid to say exactly what’s on his mind, and doesn’t care who he pisses off. He loathes Rachael Ray, and don’t even get him started on poor Alice Waters.

Anthony and Eric each have a young child at home and their views on American fast food, McDonalds in particular, are hilarious. As you’d imagine, these fine chefs would rather die than feed their kids a Happy Meal, and Anthony admits he’s not above resorting to scare tactics to prevent his daughter from developing a taste for McFries, etc. For instance, Anthony and his wife will stand outside their daughter’s bedroom door loudly discussing Ronald McDonald’s alleged involvement in the mysterious disappearances of small children. He also suggests bundling a favorite doll’s head in a hamburger wrapper for the child to discover in hopes that the ensuing trauma will scar her into eschewing McDonalds forever.

After an hour or so of back-and-forth talk, Anthony and Eric opened up the floor to questions from the audience. With the number of events these guys do, you can be sure they’ve seen and heard it all before. I had been racking my brain all week, trying to come up with an utterly original query that would make the two of them fall back in amazement, compliment me on my insight and then invite hubby and I out to drinks after the show to continue our dazzling exchange. I came up with nada. I did mentally formulate a few mealy-mouthed questions that I thought were somewhat intellectual, but the two of them managed to cock-block me by hitting upon every item I was thinking of asking about within the framework of their conversation. Sigh. So I just sat back and listened, hoping some local yokel wouldn’t embarrass us all with some inanely stupid comment or request.

The questions were pretty much what you’d expect – people asking for NY restaurant suggestions, commentary on whether or not to go to culinary school, who’s your favorite blah, blah, blah. The best question, in my opinion, was the last one of the evening before time ran out, asked by a young lady who couldn’t have been more than 10 or 11 years old. She was curious about what each chef had wanted to be when he grew up. Anthony said he’d wanted to play bass for a funk band, but Eric, oddly enough, had visions of becoming a park ranger if his chef career didn’t work out.

Anthony expressed amazement that the young questioner was even in attendance (and so did I). Her mother then took the mike to ask whether Anthony used the f-word in front of his daughter. He proudly admitted that he did, both in English and Italian.

With that, the dynamic duo of Bourdain and Ripert rose to their feet, waved, and bid us all a fond farewell. I know they must be on the road doing these kinds of events quite frequently and answering the same questions over and over ad infinitum. It’s a testament that they still managed to make the discussion sound fresh and interesting. All in all, a great evening full of laughs and smart insight into all things food.

… and to all a good meal!

This Christmas has been one of relaxation in our household, which is not a bad thing at all considering the busy year it’s been. The week has been very low-key, filled with cooking, shopping and lots of cozy fires in the fireplace. Nice.

During the past 10 days or so, I’ve been busy making holiday treats of various shapes and sizes — milk chocolate pots de crème for our Christmas dinner finale, white chocolate Oreo fudge and peppermint meringues to name a few. I found this recipe for cookies and crème fudge on allrecipes.com and have been making the heck out of it this season. With just three ingredients to worry about, it’s super easy to make, looks very pretty all packaged up in a holiday tin and tastes awesome. For the last batch I made, I used the holiday Oreos with the red filling, thinking they would look beautiful nestled into the white chocolate fudge. However, the color ended up bleeding out into the fudge, turning it sort of an alarming shade of red, but I threw in a little peppermint extract and called it festive. A brilliant and quick-thinking move on my part, if I do say so myself.

Since it was originally just going to be a quiet Christmas Day with hubby, the toddler and me, I didn’t go overboard on my dinner plans. My dad ended up joining us, which was fine, but for once, I was secretly glad not to have to cook a big meal for a tableful of folks.

For our main course, I ended up buying a turkey breast, which I stuffed with lemon slices and thyme sprigs and threw into the crockpot. It was delicious – moist and juicy with great savory flavor, and I used the stock that was released to make a scrumptious gravy. For sides, we had wild rice with dried cherries, apricots and almonds, and a panful of Brussels sprouts that I sautéed with garlic and olive oil, then steamed and topped with bacon. I’m telling ya, if you don’t like Brussels sprouts, I can convert you. Really, you can’t go wrong with almost any vegetable by sautéing it in olive oil and garlic, then topping with bacon or cheese. Alternately, roasting it in the oven until it turns brown and crispy works, too. Try it next time you have broccoli or asparagus on hand. Yummy.

Christmas dinner spread

Hubby really wanted to make Yorkshire puddings, something we’ve talked about for ages but never actually tried. For non-British readers, Yorkshire puddings aren’t really puddings at all, they’re like a popover/dinner roll thing that caves in the middle to create a little bowl of dough, into which you then spoon a big ladleful of gravy or jus. You see them often served abroad at carvery lunches in England or with roast-and-potatoes-type meals.

I looked up a few recipes and thought they all sounded deceptively simple. Hm. This immediately made me somewhat suspicious, but I was willing to give it a try. The batter is just milk, egg and flour, stirred together and left to sit for 30 minutes or one hour, depending on the recipe you’re using.

The next step is to coat your muffin tins with oil or a little of the drippings from your roast (I used bacon grease), spoon in a little batter and off you go. The puddings are supposed to puff up as they bake, then collapse in the middle as they cool to create the bowl shape. Mine didn’t collapse; they just stayed puffy in the middle. They tasted good, but there was no way you’d have been able to use them as edible gravy vessels. I’ll try them again, though, maybe throwing in some parmesan cheese and herbs next time.

the failed Yorkshire puddings

I spent a good chunk of my Christmas loot on new cookbooks! Shock of shocks, I did not previously own a copy of Mastering the Art of French Cooking by Julia Child, but I do now. Along with an awesome slow cooker recipe book I found on the bargain rack for $5, and a series of Culinaria books on Germany, France and Italy. What could be more perfect! They contain not just recipes, but tons of cultural information and profiles on various cities and regions. I can’t wait to dig into them.

Elsewhere in the week, we’ve been talking about making paella for awhile. I researched online and came up with a Gordon Ramsay version that sounded promising. Gordon definitely hooked us up on the shepherd’s pie, so I figured his paella would fit the bill as well. Plus, he’s looking kinda hot now that he finally got those weird craggy lines fixed on his chin… His recipe called for a slew of shellfish, which I had to leave out if I had any hope of hubby eating it at all. And the onion as well, of course, but that goes without saying.

Gordon’s paella calls for rice, tomato, spices, chicken, chorizo and some veg. That’s about it, really. Nothing too intimidating. I’d never cooked with chorizo before, and I had exactly one kind to choose from during my shopping excursion at Kroger, so I hoped for the best. It looks like a regular cased sausage, but I found as I sliced it up and tossed it into my pan, it completely melted away into the sauce. It definitely left a kicky flavor behind, but no chunks of nicely browned sausage to bite into like I was hoping for. Alas. Next time I’ll know to use a hard sausage or include some chunks of ham as well for texture. Everything else came together nicely. It was really just exactly like a risotto, which I’ve made many times over.

As I was stirring hot stock into the rice, chicken and veggies, I was struck that many different cultures share a go-to chicken and rice comfort food just like this. In America, what is possibly more comforting than a steamy bowl of chicken and noodles? In Italy, you’ve got risotto; in France, coq au vin; in India, chicken tikka masala. There’s arroz con pollo, pilaf, dumplings, chow mein, you name it. Wherever there is chicken, there is chicken and rice.

The paella turned out very spicy, but good. We enjoyed it with a bowl of olives, garlic bread and some Manchego cheese (that was the only disappointment of the meal). I stirred through a handful of shrimp into my own bowl, which added a lot, I thought.

Paella

my bowl

Would love to make paella again, this time with all the seafood… maybe a girls’ night dinner in the offing?? Although I still need to have the gals over for an Italian spread inspired by our trip to Milan. I’ve already got that one all planned out in my head – bruschetta, pasta, grilled steak with parmesan and arugula, and tiramisu for dessert.

The New Year looms ahead. I’ve been writing my blog now for a whole year! Here’s hoping my few and faithful readers have enjoyed hearing about my food exploits as much as I’ve enjoyed experiencing them. Happy 2010!!!

Where’s the boeuf?

Last week marked my second attempt at Julia Child’s Boeuf Bourguignon recipe (and will I ever learn to spell “bourguignon” without having to look it up on Google?). There are two things you should know about preparing a Julia Child recipe. One, it will taste delicious. Two, it will be a pain in the ass. The only other Julia Child recipe I can recall ever making is a cheese souffle, which I assure you easily met these two criteria.

My first boeuf bourguignon recipe attempt was about a month and a half ago. After seeing “Julie & Julia,” my friend and sous chef extraordinaire Gillian and I decided to host a French-inspired dinner party for several girlfriends. I knew Boeuf Bourguignon was the entree I wanted to make; G tackled a Julia chocolate almond cake. We rounded out the spread with Brie, baguette, salad and tons of red wine.

The boeuf started off innocuously enough. The base of the stew is the same one I’ve used for several other dishes as of late – Gordon Ramsay’s shepherd’s pie and Melissa D’Arabian’s braised pork come to mind. When you’ve got a good thing going, apparently chefs want to apply it to as many different kinds of meat as possible. Garlic, onions, carrot, tomato paste, thyme (my herb garden produced an abundance this year, so I’m happy for chances to use it as often as possible), red wine and beef stock. Insert meat, cover, braise for a couple hours and you will eat WELL. It’s a cheap concept, too. Beef stew meat is one of the most affordable items you can buy at the butcher’s counter, and if you use a Charles Shaw Shiraz (which is HIGHLY drinkable, trust me, I speak from experience), you can get away with spending about $3 for the wine.

Anyway, back to the recipe… Julia’s version calls for the addition of bacon, a note I found intriguing. However, she instructs you to boil the bacon for 10 minutes first before browning it for the stew. So there’s one dirty pot right off the bat. I’m not sure what the reasoning is – if anyone owns a copy of Mastering the Art of French Cooking, are there any liner notes of explanation?? I seem to recall something about making the flavor of the bacon less overwhelming, as if that’s a BAD thing? Anyway, not one to argue with the master, I boiled. Then browned. No biggie, I suppose.

A useful tip I learned – dry your meat completely with paper towels before browning it in oil or fat. I don’t think I’ve ever done this before, and it really did make a huge difference. The meat browned up quickly and beautifully, leaving behind tons of those yummy brown bits on the bottom of the pan that eventually incorporate into your sauce and make it that much better.

So I browned the meat, then the vegetables. Keep in mind, you’re constantly removing whatever you’ve just cooked to another dish while you prepare the rest. More dirty dishes. But that’s ok. Once everything is browned, you dump it all into your casserole dish. Then you pour your red wine and stock into the browning pan, scraping up every bit of those brown bits as you go. Pour the sauce over the meat and veg, cover it and throw it in the oven for about two hours. When it comes out, the meat is almost obscenely tender and the sauce smells so good, you’ll want to dab a little behind each ear. Mix in some sauteed mushrooms and there ya go. Not exactly a user-friendly dish, but wow, is it good.

Last week, hubby was returning from a business trip and I decided boeuf bourguignon would be a nice way to welcome him home. He was still a little pissed off that I included onions in my first version for the gals, immediately disqualifying him from any leftovers. Not that there were any… This time, however, I took a few short cuts. For starters, there wouldn’t be any onions to chop or worry about. I also decided to make the whole dish in the crock pot. I still had to boil the bacon and brown everything on the stove top, but with the crock pot, I knew I could let it go for awhile in case hubby’s flight was delayed and not worry about anything overcooking. I dare say it was every bit as good as the traditional method.

Julia suggests serving the stew with boiled potatoes, but even after four years of marriage, hubby still doesn’t trust me to boil potatoes (he’s Irish, what can I say?). I opted for buttered egg noodles instead. The overall effect turned out to be a fabulously rich beef and noodles. We froze the scant leftovers and I zapped a portion for myself tonight in the microwave. Nice thing about stews, they reheat perfectly.

So if you’ve got a few hours and a bunch of pots and pans, I recommend this recipe. You can easily find it online, and I have to say, it really is worth the trouble. Make Julia proud.

Boeuf Bourguignon over noodles, second time around

Where's the boeuf?

Last week marked my second attempt at Julia Child’s Boeuf Bourguignon recipe (and will I ever learn to spell “bourguignon” without having to look it up on Google?). There are two things you should know about preparing a Julia Child recipe. One, it will taste delicious. Two, it will be a pain in the ass. The only other Julia Child recipe I can recall ever making is a cheese souffle, which I assure you easily met these two criteria.

My first boeuf bourguignon recipe attempt was about a month and a half ago. After seeing “Julie & Julia,” my friend and sous chef extraordinaire Gillian and I decided to host a French-inspired dinner party for several girlfriends. I knew Boeuf Bourguignon was the entree I wanted to make; G tackled a Julia chocolate almond cake. We rounded out the spread with Brie, baguette, salad and tons of red wine.

The boeuf started off innocuously enough. The base of the stew is the same one I’ve used for several other dishes as of late – Gordon Ramsay’s shepherd’s pie and Melissa D’Arabian’s braised pork come to mind. When you’ve got a good thing going, apparently chefs want to apply it to as many different kinds of meat as possible. Garlic, onions, carrot, tomato paste, thyme (my herb garden produced an abundance this year, so I’m happy for chances to use it as often as possible), red wine and beef stock. Insert meat, cover, braise for a couple hours and you will eat WELL. It’s a cheap concept, too. Beef stew meat is one of the most affordable items you can buy at the butcher’s counter, and if you use a Charles Shaw Shiraz (which is HIGHLY drinkable, trust me, I speak from experience), you can get away with spending about $3 for the wine.

Anyway, back to the recipe… Julia’s version calls for the addition of bacon, a note I found intriguing. However, she instructs you to boil the bacon for 10 minutes first before browning it for the stew. So there’s one dirty pot right off the bat. I’m not sure what the reasoning is – if anyone owns a copy of Mastering the Art of French Cooking, are there any liner notes of explanation?? I seem to recall something about making the flavor of the bacon less overwhelming, as if that’s a BAD thing? Anyway, not one to argue with the master, I boiled. Then browned. No biggie, I suppose.

A useful tip I learned – dry your meat completely with paper towels before browning it in oil or fat. I don’t think I’ve ever done this before, and it really did make a huge difference. The meat browned up quickly and beautifully, leaving behind tons of those yummy brown bits on the bottom of the pan that eventually incorporate into your sauce and make it that much better.

So I browned the meat, then the vegetables. Keep in mind, you’re constantly removing whatever you’ve just cooked to another dish while you prepare the rest. More dirty dishes. But that’s ok. Once everything is browned, you dump it all into your casserole dish. Then you pour your red wine and stock into the browning pan, scraping up every bit of those brown bits as you go. Pour the sauce over the meat and veg, cover it and throw it in the oven for about two hours. When it comes out, the meat is almost obscenely tender and the sauce smells so good, you’ll want to dab a little behind each ear. Mix in some sauteed mushrooms and there ya go. Not exactly a user-friendly dish, but wow, is it good.

Last week, hubby was returning from a business trip and I decided boeuf bourguignon would be a nice way to welcome him home. He was still a little pissed off that I included onions in my first version for the gals, immediately disqualifying him from any leftovers. Not that there were any… This time, however, I took a few short cuts. For starters, there wouldn’t be any onions to chop or worry about. I also decided to make the whole dish in the crock pot. I still had to boil the bacon and brown everything on the stove top, but with the crock pot, I knew I could let it go for awhile in case hubby’s flight was delayed and not worry about anything overcooking. I dare say it was every bit as good as the traditional method.

Julia suggests serving the stew with boiled potatoes, but even after four years of marriage, hubby still doesn’t trust me to boil potatoes (he’s Irish, what can I say?). I opted for buttered egg noodles instead. The overall effect turned out to be a fabulously rich beef and noodles. We froze the scant leftovers and I zapped a portion for myself tonight in the microwave. Nice thing about stews, they reheat perfectly.

So if you’ve got a few hours and a bunch of pots and pans, I recommend this recipe. You can easily find it online, and I have to say, it really is worth the trouble. Make Julia proud.

Boeuf Bourguignon over noodles, second time around

The good shepherd

Hubby, a native of Ireland, and I have talked about making shepherd’s pie for ages. Tonight, we decided, was the night to tackle just such a feat.

The only time I have ever eaten shepherd’s pie was the last time we were in Ireland. After begging my mother-in-law to show me how to make it, she finally agreed. It’s a fairly straightforward dish – a mixture of hamburger or ground lamb (or “mince,” as you’d say in Ireland), carrots and onions in a tomatoe-y sauce; poured into a casserole dish; topped off with a thick layer of mashed potatoes and baked in the oven until bubbly and browned. How could THAT be bad? I’ve yet to meet a mashed potato I didn’t like.

Hubby came across a shepherd’s pie demo this week while watching an episode of Gordon Ramsay’s “The F Word” on BBC America. For those of you who’ve only watched Gordon on Hell’s Kitchen, it might surprise you to see him in the F Word light. He’s a kinder, gentler Gordon; not so intent on being a dick, as I’m sure he amps up for ratings on Hell’s Kitchen. Seriously, does he really need to scream “I’ve had ENOUGH, you donkeys!” in every single episode?

Believe it or not, Gordon does have an actual soul, and in the F Word, you get to see glimpses of him outside the kitchen. For instance, you might see him visiting the homes of lucky viewers to teach them to prepare a dish they want to learn to make, or even hanging out with his kids and pet sheep in the spacious backyard of his spacious home. There’s still plenty of kitchen action as well; Gordon occasionally even takes it on the chin when he goes head-to-head with visiting cooks competing with him to make the tastiest version of a given dish.

Anyway, hubby saw Gordon whip up a scrumptious-looking shepherd’s pie that didn’t look too terribly difficult to make, and we were thus inspired to try it out for tonight’s dinner. We took a spin through Marsh for the ingredients, where I was happy (and slightly surprised) to find very fresh ground lamb in the butcher’s case. Gordon’s recipe calls for minced lamb, but I’m sure my mother-in-law made hers with ground beef and I remember it being perfectly delicious. Of course, Gordon’s recipe also calls for grated onion, which, as you can imagine, was duly omitted in tonight’s effort.

The cooking was a team effort — hubby peeled, boiled and made the mashed potatoes (a rich and creamy version with butter, egg yolks and Parmesan cheese) and I handled the lamb. It was pretty easy – you just brown and drain the meat, add carrot, garlic, red wine, tomato paste and chicken stock. Not much different from the base for a boeuf bourguignon or Guinness beef stew. Then you cook it down until the sauce reduces and thickens, dump it all into the casserole dish and spread the mashed potatoes on top. Twenty minutes in the oven, and the top of the potatoes gets all golden brown and crusty. It looked and smelled GORGEOUS. We could hardly wait to dig in. I served it up with some steamed green beans and slices of delicious Irish brown bread that my hubby threw together this afternoon, and it was PERFECT.

Next time you’re in a meat-and-potatoes mood, I urge you to give this dish a try.

Gordon can shepherd me anytime.

tonight's dinner - shepherd's pie, green beans, Irish brown bread and red wine

my plate, for the first serving of shepherd's pie

Watch and learn

I think I’m addicted to television cooking shows. For a long, long time, the Food Network was my go-to channel. I’d simply flip on the TV and leave it going in the background for hours, picking up a tip or two by osmosis as I’d go about my day. I got very used to the voices of celebrity chefs infiltrating my consciousness. However, thanks to the proliferation of reality TV cooking competitions, I hardly ever watch it anymore. Namely, my must-see TV now consists of Top Chef, Hell’s Kitchen and Next Food Network Star.

Random thoughts about each series: Next Food Network Star would be the competition I’d be most likely to enter if I could. The challenges seem to be the most up my alley, although I have absolutely no desire to host my own television cooking show. The contestants seem to be fairly normal people and there’s not nearly as much of the high drama you find in some of the other series.

This past season’s winner, Melissa D’Arabian, was my top pick all along. The network promoted that runner-up guy as some kind of Zen food yogi, but he always just seemed half-stoned to me. Come to think of it “Let’s Get Baked” wouldn’t be a bad name for a cooking show… but I digress. Although she seemed a little hyper at first, I liked Melissa’s French-inspired food best; it looked the tastiest and the dishes she cooked often seemed like things I could see myself making at home. She’s already busted out several little cooking tips and hints that I have found extremely useful and am likely to remember forever. Plus, the woman has four little girls, all under the age of 5 (including 1-year-old twins!). Anyone who has time to deal with that AND cook gourmet dinners complete with do-it-yourself French pastry is my hero.

Hubby and I taped one of Melissa’s first shows on the DVR and were very impressed with it. On the season finale, part of her show demo meal was an individual potato gratin made in muffin tins. I downloaded the recipe and hubby and I have made it twice within the past week. It is ridiculously easy, and super tasty. Tonight, we’re going to give her crispy-skinned chicken breast a l’orange a whirl.

I like Hell’s Kitchen, but sometimes the drama gets to be a little much to bear. It’s like the American Idol of cooking shows with Gordon Ramsey cast as a foul-mouthed, hot-tempered Simon Cowell. I know it’s all about ratings, but seriously. I’ve worked in a handful of restaurant kitchens with all different kinds of culinary personalities, and I’ve never seen anyone act that way. I’d certainly never want to work for someone who’d get in my face and call me an effing donkey, and I have to question the mental stability and sanity of anyone who does. Then again, some of the HK contestants are complete whack-jobs anyway.

Gordon Ramsey is obviously a good chef and has made a career out of being an uncompromising perfectionist. I suppose it’s a bit like playing basketball for Bobby Knight. I know he’s a good coach, (my fellow IU alumni are probably going to bust my balls for even making this comment at all) but aren’t there just-as-effective leadership techniques that don’t rely on fear, intimidation and masochism? I’ll watch Hell’s Kitchen, don’t get me wrong, but I don’t take it seriously.

Top Chef is perhaps my favorite cooking competition to watch. There’s no golden post or television show prize waiting, the winner simply gets a buttload of money to use to further their own culinary dreams and aspirations. In my book, that’s awesome.

These are hardcore, serious chefs and it’s fun to see what kinds of dishes they manage to produce. I don’t kid myself that I could hang with this level of crowd for a second; they cook using products and techniques I’ve never seen, hear of, or know how to spell. Last season, though, it was cool to see caterer Carla give fly-under-the-radar Hosea and snooty Stefan a run for their money in the finale by staying true to herself and her simple, cooking-with-love style. That’s the approach I’d take; I was sorry to see her lose it in the end by letting her sous-chef rattle her self-confidence.

Some of these chefs show off creativity that is truly stellar. In each episode, at least one contestant makes something that leaves me seething with envy and renews my interest in going to culinary school. For example, in this week’s episode, two of the top-rated appetizer dishes included a savory macaroon filled with avocado guacamole, and an apple sorbet in a little shot glass with a goat cheese cracker/cookie. YUM.

As an added bonus, I love, love, love the judging panel. Gail Simmons is like your best girlfriend, Tom Colicchio knows his shit but conveys criticism in a way that’s not soul-destroying, and Padma Lakshmi is a tasty visual treat that whets the appetite anytime she appears onscreen. (How in the world do these people eat all of that food without making themselves completely sick or gaining 200 pounds?)

Too early to make a prediction yet about this season, but I seem to think it’s going to be one of the two brothers.

Fellow foodies, leave me a comment! Your favorite cooking show and why????