Cumin and Rosemary Rubbed Pork Loin

I’m just back from my 3 month sojourn to India. I was meditating and asking forgiveness for what I did to that poor beast. Not only did I select the finest Red Wattle from a corral of heirloom hogs, but after I kissed his soft, moist snout and gave him a slap on the right hind quarter, I had him butchered into the finest cuts you’ve ever seen.

I don’t touch the stuff myself, David, but when that tall brunette with the fangs saunters across Broadway, grabs you by the hair and says, “Cook me dinner, He-Man” you’ll need a recipe to satisfy her meat lust.

These are the lengths to which I go to help a friend. God forgive me.

Cumin and Rosemary Rubbed Pork Loin with Roasted Pear and Madeira Wine Reduction

You can use a 2 pound loin to feed a small harem or if it’s just the two of you, ask your butcher to cut two – 2 inch thick slices from a well manicured loin.

1 teaspoon cumin seeds toasted and ground
1/2 teaspoon smoked paprika
1 large bunch of Tuscan Blue rosemary
2 Bosc pears cut in half and cored1 piece of La Tur, 1/2 pound Nevat or another creamy mixed milk cheese
Zest of an orange
1/2 to 1 cup of Madeira Wine
Sea Salt
Pink Peppercorns

Massage the Meat
Cover the bottom of your marinating dish with rosemary needles. Rub the fillets with cumin and smoked paprika. Season with salt and gently press the fillets onto the bed of rosemary. Cover the top of the fillets with additional rosemary needles and gently press on them. Cover the dish and let it rest in the refrigerator for 24 – 48 hours turning the fillets over once.

Roast the Pears
Preheat the oven to 375. Season the pears with sea salt, cracked pink peppercorns and orange zest. Bake uncovered for about 15 – 20 minutes or until soft.

Sear and Deglaze
Turn the oven up to 425. Turn the flame on your sparkling stainless steel range to medium high and temper a large fry pan. Sear the pork loin for about 4 minutes per side, then pop it in the oven for about 10 minutes to finish it.

Meanwhile deglaze the pan. Turn the flame to medium, toss in half a cup of the madeira. Drink the other half cup. Stir and reduce the sauce until it’s just a few tablespoons.

If you use a meat thermometer, cook the loin to 150 degrees, remove from the oven and let stand for a few minutes. Slice the loin in half and if it’s still a little pink you can put it back in the oven for a minute or two. If her fangs are dripping serve it pink.

Plate It
Spoon the sauce on the plate. Fan the loin slices on top of the sauce. Put a dollop of room temperature La Tur on top of the pear. Serve with a Tuscan red. Follow it with raw figs and Parmigiano Reggiano.

4th of July in Long Island

The beginning of July kicked off Tuna season on the Eastern tip of Long Island. We landed at JFK on July 1 with Gucci sunglasses and Manolo boat shoes. The helicopter whisked us off to Montauk. I chartered a two day trip to The Canyons where the big boys bite. Jennifer decided to forage for fresh vegetables in a blue and white striped number.

I landed a goodly-sized Bluefin, just slightly larger than the 60 foot fishing yacht we were aboard. A carrier gull brought the news to Jennifer.

She found wild greens and turmeric root in the forest. When her blue and white stripes emerged from the edge of the woods into a meadow filled with wildflowers, she found an organic farmer who was more than happy to dig baby potatoes while her dress floated on the breeze.

Jennifer mentioned the farmer’s daughter was cute, David. You could pick her up on the way to Montauk when you try this dish. Makes for a great 4th of July cookout or Labor Day garden party. Tuna season is on through the beginning of October.

Grilled Yellowfin Tuna and Just Dug Potato Salad with Tarragon Aioli
Serves you, David and 3 natural beauties

The Tuna
1/2 teaspoon black mustard seeds
1 teaspoon cumin seeds
1/2 teaspoon coriander seeds
1 teaspoon fresh grated turmeric root
Sea salt
Olive oil
Minced habanero for garnish
Fresh squeezed lime for garnish

Heat the seeds on medium in a cast iron skillet until fragrant. Remove and grind in your spice mortar. Add the turmeric root and a tablespoon of olive oil Rub the tuna steaks with the spice mixture, cover and refrigerate for at least an hour.

The Aioli
1/2 cup Sweet Sicilian olive oil
1 farm fresh egg yolk
1 clove crushed garlic
1/2 tsp dijon mustard
1 tsp fresh lemon juice
2 tablespoons tarragon cut fine with your herb shears
Zest of lemon
Pinch or two of salt

Don’t bother coddling the egg. If you using a farm fresh egg, you’ll have no worries. You’ll know it’s good when you crack and separate it.

Mix the egg yolk, lemon juice and mustard in a bowl. In the tiniest, slowest stream, whisk in the olive oil. If the olive oil doesn’t completely combine with the egg, stop pouring and keep whisking. When combined, continue whisking and pouring in a slow steady stream until thick.

Add the crushed garlic and salt. Cover and store in the fridge for at least 30 minutes.

The Potato Salad
2 pounds of just dug baby potatoes, mixed varietals and colors
1 bunch of spring shallots, trimmed and minced
A hand full of basil leaves, sheared

Bring a large pot of spring water to a boil. Cut the cute little baby potatoes in half. Add the potatoes to the pot and simmer boil for about 7 to 10 minutes or until fork tender, not mushy.

Submerge the potatoes in a bowl of iced spring water to stop the cooking and then allow to rest and cool for several minutes.

Toss the potatoes, spring shallots and aioli. Add the basil and toss once more.

Plate it
When your potato salad is ready to go, throw the tuna on the grill. Cook for about 2 minutes per side, then remove from the grill and cut the steak in half. If you like it slightly less rare, put in back on the grill for no more than 1 minute per side Whatever you do, don’t turn this fresh fish into shoe leather.

Mound the potato salad on the plate, top with tuna steak and garnish with wild baby greens. Squeeze a little lime juice and fleck the tuna steak with minced habanero. Pour a glass of Nero D’Avola or a Belgian Blanche. Cheers.

Grilled Octopus with Chayote, Lemon Basil and Mint

When you awake from your post lunch slumber a day later with a sex hangover, you’ll be famished David. Don’t forget you saved the octopus tentacles with thick, fatty skin for this very moment. Don’t even bother getting dressed. Just grab your black silk robe, hand Galen her Pucci throw and head for the veranda to light the grill.

The Chayote Salad
1 chayote, pitted and cubed
1 ripe xcatec chile deseeded, deveined and minced(should be orange or red)
A handful of lemon basil leaves
A smaller handful of mint leaves
Olive oil
Sea salt

Toss, cover and refrigerate for 15 minutes while you wrestle the octopus.

The Octopus
You seasoned the octopus with sea salt and pink peppercorns before your love nap so you should be ready to throw these on the grill. Brush them with a little more olive oil just before you do.

Plate it
Cut the octopus on the diagonal into manageable pieces. Mound the chayote salad in the center of the plate and arrange the octopus on top. Feed her the octopus with your strong, yet tender man hand in between sips of a light Sardinian Red or a Southern Italian Rosato.

Octopus Salad with Heirloom Potatoes and Salted Capers

You don’t have to beat your octopus against the white washed wall of your home in the Cyclades Islands, David, but you’ll look manly when you do it. Make sure you spray a little Evian Brumisateur on your brow to simulate sweat just before you begin. The sunlight will make you glisten.

You could also set your washing machine for the delicate cycle and give the 8 tentacled beast a whirl. Personally, I don’t have the space in my kitchen for a dedicated octopus machine and my guess is that your island retreat is humble, yet well appointed.

Instead, I opt for cooking these mystical creatures slowly, just beneath a simmer, in white wine until knife tender. I’ve thrown a cork in now and then as I was shown on the shores of the Adriatic, but only for an excuse to open another bottle of wine. Jennifer’s grandmother says it must be two corks, just pulled from the bottles.

However you decide to man handle your octopus, look good when you sit down to lunch. I would consider a lightweight cotton shirt with a tight weave so it snaps in the breeze.

The Octopus
Rinse a 2 kilo octopus in spring water. Bring a bottle of dry white wine, the octopus, 2 bay leaves and 10 pink peppercorns to a gentle simmer, slowly. Cook for about 45 minutes to 1 hour until the largest part of the tentacles around the skirt yield to your sharp knife. Reserve the broth and cool.

Remove the skin and cut the tentacles on the diagonal. Save the pieces of tentacles with thick, fatty skin for grilling tomorrow. Juicy.

The Potatoes
Clean 1 pound of Dark Red Norlands, French Fingerling or some other firm and creamy varietal. Cut into 1/2 in cubes and boil in the octopus broth with 2 pinches of salt until fork tender. Drain and cool.

The Toss
In a large glass bowl, combine the potatoes, the trimmed octopus, a handful of salted capers and a deseeded, cayenne minced finely. Add a pinch of smoked paprika, a handful of fino verde and some leaves of flat parsley. Drizzle 2 tablespoons of olive oil and another drop. Squeeze in half a lemon to brighten the flavors. Taste for salt. You shouldn’t need much if you didn’t rinse your capers.

Serve with Il Mimo Nebbiolo Rosato. Finish the lunch with fresh figs, Parmigiano Reggiano and finally a small glass of calvados or Poire William.

Old San Juan

The 55 foot cabin cruiser maneuvered through the cut and entered the Xcalak Bay in high winds. A man in a white blazer and cap held his drink high and shouted “Double Nickels” as the Ocean Angel surfed in on 12 foot waves.

The crew of women looked like the United Colors of Benetton. These beauties came in all skin tones from the palest pink to the richest ebony. Through my binoculars, I could see their glasses all held the same garnet hued liquid. They sipped with passion, licking moist lips.

My attempts to secure an invite to cocktail hour were squashed both on the marine radio and in person. I was politely spoken down to in my humble dingy. Only women with bare toes were allowed on board. It was on these words that I caught the first scent of this mysterious elixir — orange bitters!

The third day I paddled up to the cruiser’s bow I found a deep mocha crew member with a glass to her lips. When she spoke, a tiny garnet drop launched from her perfectly pink tongue and landed on my cheek. I lashed my tongue like a lizard to capture the drop — dark rum and Dubonnet!

I’ve done my due diligence, David. After many hours in the cocktail lab, I’ve recreated magic potion. It’s a strong concoction, so sip it slowly. I enjoy mine with pistachios.

The Orange Bitters
I began with the recipe for Regan’s Orange Bitters No. 5 and made some modifications to taste. If you didn’t plan four weeks ahead, you can always buy commercially produced bitters. The final effect may not be as intense, but you’ll still win the prize.

8 ounces dried clementine peels chopped very finely
1 teaspoon cardamom seeds removed from the pods
1/2 teaspoon caraway seeds
1 teaspoon coriander seeds
1 teaspoon quassia chips
1/2 teaspoon powdered cinchona bark
1/4 teaspoon gentian
2 cups grain alcohol
4 1/2 cups spring water
1 cup raw granulated sugar

Place the peel, cardamom seeds, caraway seeds, coriander seeds, quassia, cinchona bark, gentian, grain alcohol and 1/2 cup water into a half-gallon mason jar, push the ingredients down so that they are covered by the alcohol and water. Seal the jar.

Shake the jar vigorously every day for a fortnight while dancing in a circle.

Pour the concoction through a cheesecloth. Squeeze the cheese cloth tightly to extract as much alcohol as possible. Reserve the alcohol in a clean, sealed mason jar.

Muddle the seeds and stems in a or mortar, then bring to a boil in a sauce pan with the remaining 3 1/2 cups of water. Reduce heat, simmer for 10 mins and allow to cool.

Place the seeds, stems and the water back in the original jar. Do the agitation dance for 7 more day

Pour the water through a cheesecloth. Discard the dry ingredients and add the water to the alcohol.

Place the sugar into a small copper saucepan and place over a medium-high heat. Stir constantly until the sugar becomes liquid and turns dark brown. Allow to cool for several minutes.

Pour the sugar into the alcohol/water mixture and allow the mixture to stand for seven days. Skim off any sediment from the surface and be careful not to stir up the bottom sediment.

Add four ounces of spring water, shake well and bottle.

Viejo San Juan
3 ounces of 7 year old rum
1 ounce Dubonnet
2 dashes of orange bitters

In a cocktail shaker, pour the rum and the Dubonnet over cracked ice. Add the orange bitters and gently shake. Pour into a large glass. Garnish with an orange slice.

Ripe Quince

We arrived at Gualberto’s ramshackle rancho in Noh Bec just after 9 am with rumbling stomachs. We could smell fresh tortillas from the casita. The conversation danced around what he would grow for the restaurant and the quantities, but I couldn’t focus. There were many distractions like purple hued pitaya, a tree full of ripe mango and again the wind tickled the follicles of my nose with the scent of hand made pure corn tortillas.

The closest edible was a fuzzy looking yellow apple dangling to the right just above my head so I pretended to absentmindedly pick it and take a bite while agreeing to a weekly delivery of 1000 kilos of cilantro. The sweet, juicy flesh exploded with a floral bouquet and a slightly tart undertone as I looked longingly at the yellow fruit and swallowed. I agreed to 6000 kilos of tomatoes and picked another.

All the fresh quince I’d ever encountered were rock hard and astringent, much too bitter to eat raw. These were crisp and soft and the flavor filled my palette with fields of flowers. I looked up from the quince to Gualberto’s daughter and winked.

We served a salad of shaved red cabbage with quince and creamy blue goat cheese for first course at the wedding reception.

Serves 2
About a quarter of a goodly sized head of red cabbage shaved on the mandoline
1 Chile Xcatec or Santa Fe deseeded and slivered
1 avocado cut into small cubes
1 ripe Pineapple Quince or a seasonal D’anjou pear if your jet is in the shop and you can’t make it to the Caribbean
A nice hunk of blue goat cheese from Gualberto’s rancho or Blue D’Auver
1 teaspoon of balsamic vinegar, the real thing
A fruity, peppery olive oil
Sea salt

Toss the shaved red cabbage with chile, salt, olive oil and vinegar. Cover and refrigerate for 15 to 30 minutes while you pour an apertif and chat.

Peel and cube the quince. Feed a morsel to your beloved and hand her the glass of Lillet. Add the avocado and the quince to the cabbage and toss gently.

Plate the salad and top with a thin plank of blue cheese. Talk passionately about the rich black soil from whence the quince came, but be brief. Pour a Cabernet, no oak.

A Late Lunch in Belize

Sometimes, David, Lunch can sexier than dinner. Especially if lunch is late and extended.

Jennifer and I decided to test the recently repaired Yamaha 40 on the Golondrina. We packed the coolers with tomatillos, avocados, pomegranates and rosé, skirted around Margo’s Garden at Sin Duda Villas and headed South for the cut into the Bay of Chetumal. Jennifer bathed in the morning sun light from the bow of the boat while I piloted in the nude.

When we spotted a goodly-sized yellowtail, I powered down and dove from the side of the boat. Jennifer cheered me on when I surfaced with the fish in my teeth.

After some searching and a chase from private property, we finally found a secluded beach on the Belize side of the border to prepare our lunch.

Yellowtail Ceviche with Sour Orange, Cardomom and Pomegranate

1 goodly-sized yellowtail pulled fresh from the Bay of Chetumal, trimmed and and cut into 1/4 – 3/8 inch cubes
Zest and juice of 3 limes
Zest and juice of 3 sour oranges
1 pomegranate
1 small red onion, cored and minced
1 clove garlic, cored and minced
1 ripe habanero, minced and deseeded
1/2 cup basil, sliced fine, plus several leaves for garnish
3 cardomom pods, toasted and finely crushed
pinch of turmeric
sea salt
—

Fill a bowl with cool water. Cut the pomegranate in quarters. Remove the pomegranate seeds in the bowl of water by peeling the skin back. Remove the pith that floats to the top.

Zest the citrus into a large bowl, then juice them into the same bowl. Combine the red onion, garlic, habanero, cardomom, turmeric, salt. Add the fish, basil, 3/4 of the pomegranate seeds and mix gently. Cover and store in the fridge your cooler for 2 hours. Taste and adjust salt.

Serve with a dry rosé or if you’ve forgotten your corkscrew, a cold Belekin. Follow with a chilled tomatillo, avocado soup and a crusty baguette. Then, lay about naked.

Le Petit Oeuf Bleu

 

These little bites should be fed to your date on Valentine’s Day while she lounges on a brocade chaise in between raising the glass of champagne to her generous lips. Her raw silk robe will melt and hydrate her supple brown skin.

Don’t eat the whole dozen while you’re daydreaming, David. Save some for later.

A dozen quail eggs
1 teaspoon tarragon mustard
2 Tbs Roquefort or Bleu D’ Auvergne
2 teaspoons olive oil
Sea salt
Hungarian Hot Paprika
Parsley leaves for garnish

Bring a small pot of water to a boil. Add the eggs and boil for 2 and one half minutes. Remove and submerge in cold water immediately for 5 minutes.

Peel the eggs and  slice in half. Remove the yolks and set the whites aside. Combine the yolks with the mustard, olive oil and cheese. Taste and adjust salt.

Fill the whites with the yolk mixture, dust with paprika and garnish with parsley. Pop the Champagne.

Pan Seared Lobster with Pimentón de La Vera and Arbequina Olive Oil Mashed Potatoes

We finally made it to Xcalak, David, after a grueling road trip through Guanajuato, Oaxaca and Chiapas. We were looking forward to enjoying Veracruz fare, but the floods detoured us to the Pacific side. The only thing we found to nibble on were some ears of roasted corn that were unsuitable for horses. The fires smelled good and the Mezcal was wonderful.

Here in Xcalak, we quickly met an elderly Spanish woman named Inéz. The local men flock to her home, lured by the aroma of fresh seafood from her kitchen and the sweet citrus perfume wafting from her cleavage. She makes them wait in pairs by the door until the previous pair stumbles out the door.

Jennifer and I were last in line and when 2 very drunk men stumbled out, she wiped her brow kindly invited us in for a glass of Sherry. “Este noche cenamos con langosta,” she boomed and with that we were surrounded by 5 beautiful young ladies busily refilling our glasses and bringing little tastes of grilled sardines, shrimp with spicy tomato and fresh goat cheese.

Inéz ordered the girls around while whisking the olive oil into the mashed potatoes and when I asked if I could help her in the kitchen, she was more than willing to order me around as well. The 8 of us sat down to the most wonderful lobster I’ve ever tasted. More wine flowed and it was a happy ending.

Serves 2

The Lobster
1 large lobster tail, about half a kilo. I prefer spiny lobster, but use what’s local
Couple pinches of Pimentón de La Vera picante
Sea salt
1/2 cup of white wine
1 Tbs Olive oil

Cut the lobster tails in half lengthwise. Clean and pat dry. Season with sea salt and Pimenton.  Cover and refrigerate for 30 minutes to 2 hours.

When the potatoes are ready, heat the olive oil in a saute pan and add the lobster flesh side down. Sear for  about a minute and turn the lobster shell side down.  Add a little bit of the wine and drink the rest. After the alcohol has burned off, about a minute, baste the lobster with the sauce and cook for about 3 minutes more until just opaque.

The Potatoes
2 Arran Victory, Golden Wonder or your favorite mashing potatoes cut into cubes
1/4 cup Arbequina olive oil
2 Tbs butter
1 clove fresh garlic, core removed and minced
Sea salt

Add the potatoes to a pot of water with 2 pinches of salt and bring to a boil for 15 minutes or until fork tender. Drain and  push through a fine mesh sieve. Add the butter, garlic, a pinch of salt and whip the olive oil in a slow drizzle.  Taste and adjust salt.

Mound the mashed potatoes in the center of the plate and top with one half of the lobster tail. Garnish with cilantro and serve with a medium bodied white from Rueda or a light bodied Sicilian red.

The Magic Banana Tree

 

Our search led us from New York to Barbados, Guadeloupe, Puerto Rico and finally to a small island within sight of Jost Van Dyke. After a burping puddle jumper and a cargo ferry filled with chickens and ducks, we arrived in a small skiff piloted by a scraggly rum runner that bore no resemblance to Johnny Depp.

We told Captain Jack we were newlyweds looking for a secluded beach and some fine snorkeling. He was hesitant when we showed him the little speck on the map, but was swayed by the sight of Jennifer in a see-through Gaultier 2 piece. I shook his stump goodbye and thanked him for the lift. He made gratuitous pirate sounds as he sped away leaving us on the most beautiful, white sand horseshoe I had ever seen.

The color of the water was intoxicating and we lounged for hours before our stomachs began to rumble. I pulled a lobster from below, the GPS from my pack and trekked into the jungle, clearing a path with a small machete while Jennifer lounged under a palm. The coordinates were off by a few degrees, the sweat was pouring from my brow. My Iridium rang. Jennifer was growing impatient. I tried to swat the mosquito from my cheek and saw a tiny, naked, Keira Knightley fly just above my head. She darted behind me like a humming bird. I wheeled and hung up the phone.

There, next to a thicket of bamboo, surrounded by thousands of winged Keira Knightleys stood The Tree. Branches hung low to the ground, heavy with ripe fruit. I plucked the nearest bunch and rubbed my eyes. When I opened them again, the Keira Knightleys were still naked, darting from branch to branch. I hesitated, pushed my walking cane to the right, then turned and headed back to prepare lunch.

Tostones con Guacamole Picante
Even if you don’t have a magic banana, David, these spicy little bites will excite your saronged lovely.

Los Tostones
1 green plantain, just starting to yellow.
A bowl of sea water or 4 cups of spring water and 1 Tbs sea salt
4 Tbs Vegetable Oil

Peel the plantains and cut into 1 inch pieces. Soak in sea water for 15 minutes. Remove and dry the plantains, reserving the seawater.

Heat the vegetable oil and fry the plantains on the flat sides until lightly golden. Drain on paper towels and cool.

Using a spatula or the bottom of a flat glass, smash the plantains into small coins. then soak for 2 or 3 minutes more in sea water.

Reheat the oil and fry on both sides until golden and crisp. Sprinkle with sea salt.

Guacamole Picante
1 ripe avocado
1 ripe habanero pepper, deseeded and minced
1 clove garlic, minced
1 Tbs red onion, minced
1 Tbs cilantro, chopped
Juice of one lime
A little olive oil
Sea salt

Mash the avocado with a fork and whip until creamy. Stir in half the minced habanero, half of the lime, and all of the remaining ingredients. Taste for salt, heat and add more habanero if she likes it spicy or if you think she’ll need the coaxing of an extra michelada or two.

Top each of the tostone coins with a dollop of guacamole and serve with a michelada while you whip up the lobster cocktail.

Coctel de Langosta
2 spiny lobster tails
12 ripe plum tomatoes
1 clove garlic
1 jalapeño
1/2 small red onion
Juice of 1/2 lime
Juice of 1/2 orange
Handful of Fino Verde or cinnamon basil leaves
A little olive oil
Sea salt
1 cup white wine

Put the white wine in a large pot and bring to a boil. Add the lobster tails, cover and steam until they begin to turn bright orange, about 10 to 12 minutes. Remove them from the pot and cool. Cut the meat from the shell with kitchen shears. Cut the tails into bite sized pieces and refrigerate.

Bring a large pot of water to boil and add the tomatoes. Simmer until the tomatoes are soft, but not falling apart, 8 to 10 minutes. Drain the tomatoes and remove the skins. Cut in half and remove the seeds and core.

Put the tomatoes, garlic, onion, jalapeño, habanero, lime and orange juice in a blender or food processor. Blend to a smooth sauce. It should be thick without being sticky. Taste for salt and lime.

Toss the lobster pieces and the basil with the cocktail sauce. Serve in hand blown glass or half a coconut shell. Pour an Albariño or a non oaked Sauvignon Blanc.