Brisket tacos, Dallas style

When it comes to Super Bowl food, people usually make culinary specialties from the hometowns of the opposing teams. With no disrespect to this year’s contenders, Green Bay and Pittsburgh, at my Super Bowl party I’m going to honor Dallas, this year’s host, instead. And while there are several dishes that remind me of Dallas, one I love the most is a large plate of brisket tacos.

Brisket tacos, if you’ve never had them in Dallas, are soft tortillas stuffed with succulent strands of brisket, pulled from a roast that has been braised overnight. The brisket isn’t smoky nor is it fiery—instead it’s tender and juicy, with a rich depth of flavor that can only come from cooking the meat low and slow.



Another hallmark of Dallas’s brisket tacos is that there’s always melted Monterey Jack on the tortillas, and each taco is topped with strips of sautéed onions and poblano chiles. Some places also include a small bowl of the pan juices, turning the brisket taco into a Tex-Mex beef sandwich au jus.

Dallas-area restaurateurs love to argue over the invention of the brisket taco. I had my first one at Mia’s, but the owners of Avila’s have also laid claim to its provenance. Sure, these restaurants may have popularized the specific style of brisket tacos found in Dallas, but I think that it’s silly to assume that these places were the first to make such a simple dish.

That said, you don’t usually find brisket tacos on the menu in other Texas cities. I’m not sure why this is the case, but as Tex-Mex cuisine has many region-specific dishes—Houston's green sauce, for instance—it certainly doesn’t surprise me. The Dallas-Fort Worth area has long been associated with cattle, so it makes sense that a big, beefy taco would be an integral part of this town’s Tex-Mex scene.



As for the Super Bowl, I’ve heard some people laugh about how two of the Dallas Cowboys’ biggest rivals will be fighting each other in Cowboys Stadium. Of course, it would have been great to have the Cowboys play, but with the year they had that wasn’t an option. But that’s okay—I think that Dallas is ultimately the winner of this year’s game, as it gets to show thousands of visitors what Texas hospitality is all about, such as this plate of tender and flavorful soft brisket tacos.

Brisket tacos, Dallas style

For the brisket:
3 pounds brisket, from the flat cut
Salt and black pepper to taste
1 tablespoon vegetable oil or bacon grease
1 large yellow onion, cut into quarters
8 cloves garlic
1/4 cup red wine vinegar
2 cups beef broth
1 teaspoon ground cumin
2 jalapeños, seeds and stems removed, cut in half, lengthwise
2 leafy stems cilantro
1 bay leaf

For the tacos:
2 poblano chiles
1 teaspoon vegetable oil
1 large yellow onion, cut into slivers
1 cup shredded Monterey Jack cheese (4 ounces)
Corn or flour tortillas
Salsa

Method:
Preheat the oven to 250 degrees.

Sprinkle the brisket with salt and black pepper. In a large ovenproof pot, such as a Dutch oven, heat up the oil on medium-low, and brown the brisket on both sides, about 5 minutes per side.

Remove the brisket from the pot and add the onions. While occasionally stirring, cook until they begin to brown. Add the garlic cloves and cook for another 2 minutes. Turn off the heat and pour into the pot the red wine vinegar, scraping along the bottom to loosen all of the pan drippings.

Return to the pot the brisket, fat-side up. Pour in the beef broth and add the cumin, jalapeños, cilantro and bay leaf. Cover the pot and place in the oven. Cook the brisket for 6 hours or until it’s fork tender. When you take the brisket out of the oven, let it rest in the pot uncovered for 30 minutes.

Meanwhile, to make the taco toppings, roast the poblano chiles under the broiler until blackened, about 5 minutes per side. Place chiles in a paper sack or plastic food-storage bag, close it tight and let the chile steam for 20 minutes. Take the chiles out of the bag and rub off the skin. Remove stem and seeds and cut the chiles into strips. Heat up the vegetable oil in a skillet on medium low, and add the onion slivers. While occasionally stirring, cook until softened, about 10 minutes. Add the cut poblano strips and cook for 1 more minute.

After the brisket has rested, remove it from the pot, cut off the fat cap and shred the meat with two forks until it’s in long strands. To make the gravy, strain the cooled broth, throwing out the vegetables. Remove the fat from the broth with a gravy separator. Or alternatively, you can take a quart-sized plastic storage bag and pour some broth into it. Snip a bottom corner of the bag and drain the broth, stopping when you get to the fat layer that is on top. Add 2 tablespoons of the gravy to the shredded brisket, reserving the rest for serving. Taste the brisket and adjust seasonings.

To make the tacos, place on one side of each tortilla some Monterey Jack and slide the tortillas under the broiler for 30 seconds or until the cheese is melted. Fill the tortillas with shredded brisket and top with some of the onions and poblano strips. Serve with the pot juices and salsa.

Yield: 4-6 servings

Keep reading...

Boudin recipe, pork and rice Cajun sausage

A few years ago, a friend was visiting Toronto and found a Cajun store. He had grown up in Louisiana, so he called me, thrilled that he had discovered a source in the Northeast for some of his favorite Cajun ingredients. And yes, on hand were plenty of Cajun spices, store-made gumbos, and alligator meat. But the one thing this store didn’t have was boudin—a Cajun sausage that you also can’t find in New York.

“No boudin?” I said. “That’s a shame. Perhaps I should just try to make it myself.”

It took me a while, but five years later I finally did.

Boudin (also spelled boudain), if you’re not familiar with it, is a sausage that’s stuffed with pork, liver, rice, and a host of aromatics and spices. It’s what fuels road trips heading east on I-10 from Houston into Louisiana, as almost every gas station worth its salt will have poached or smoked boudin on hand, ready for snacking.



After you fill up the tank and stretch your legs, you grab a link, lean against the counter and squeeze the sausage until the filling oozes out the end, like toothpaste out of a tube. You take a big bite, wash it down with a cold beverage and continue eating until nothing but the casing remains. (The casing, which most don’t eat, is thrown away.) Of course, there are some fastidious types who prefer to eat boudin with a knife and a fork, but where’s the fun in that?

While it’s a Cajun dish, boudin is also found in Southeast Texas where the cultures of Louisiana and Texas collide. I’m partial to boudin that’s found at gas stations, but you can also buy it at meat markets, seafood shops, and grocery stores. You’ll seldom see it at proper sit-down restaurants, however, as boudin is regarded as stand-up, on-the-go food. And that’s probably why you don’t see it outside the Southeast Texas/Louisiana region, as even though there may be Cajun restaurants, boudin is not usually part of their repertoire. This used to upset me, but it’s no longer an issue since I’ve learned that the best boudin can be made at home.

The basic recipe for boudin is a mix of finely diced cooked pork, chicken or pig’s liver, rice, bell pepper, celery, green onions, parsley and cayenne. From that base you can tailor it any way you wish. I like to add a bunch of jalapeños to mine, and I know people who will throw in some shrimp and crawfish, too. Boudin is usually poached though you can smoke it, as well.

Making a batch of boudin is a snap—the most difficult part of the process is stuffing it into the casing. Though if you don’t have a sausage stuffer, you can still eat the filling as a dressing, or whip up a batch of boudin balls, which are rolled portions of the filling that have been dipped in crushed crackers and fried.



Now, while I associate boudin with quick stops on the road, it’s also mighty fine for home eating. It’s terrific to serve to friends when you’re watching the big game, and at holidays, my family has been known to add it to our festive buffet. But no matter when or where you eat boudin, know that you’re in for a spicy filling treat.

Boudin

Ingredients:
2 pounds pork shoulder, cut into 1-inch pieces
1 stalk of celery, diced
1 medium yellow onion, chopped
4 cloves garlic, minced
1 bell pepper, seeds and stem removed, chopped
1/2 pound chicken livers
2 cups cooked rice
2 jalapeños, seeds and stems removed, chopped
1 teaspoon dried thyme
1 teaspoon dried oregano
1 teaspoon paprika
2 green onions, chopped (green part only)
1/2 cup parsley, finely chopped
Salt, black pepper and cayenne to taste

Method:
Place the pork shoulder, celery, onion, garlic and bell pepper into a large pot. Cover with 2 inches of water, bring to a boil and then turn down the heat and simmer uncovered for 1 hour. After an hour, add the chicken liver to the pot and continue to cook for 45 more minutes or until the pork is tender.

Strain the meat and vegetables, reserving the liquid. Finely dice the meat and vegetables with a knife, in a food processor or in a meat grinder set for a coarse grind. Once diced, place meat and vegetables in a bowl.

Add to the bowl the cooked rice, jalapeños, thyme, oregano, paprika, green onions and parsley. Stir in 1 cup of the reserved cooking liquid and combine until the filling is moist and slightly sticky. If it appears too dry, add more of the reserved liquid. Taste and adjust seasonings, adding salt, pepper and cayenne.

To make boudin sausage, stuff into casing (see below for instructions) and then poach in boiling water for 10 minutes.

Alternatively, you can either serve the filling as a dressing, or you can roll it into walnut-sized balls, dip into finely crushed crackers and fry in 350 degree oil for 2 minutes or until brown to make boudin balls.

Yield: about 12 sausages or 5 cups of filling

Note: If you have any concerns about cooking the chicken livers in the pork pot, by all means you can cook the livers separately, and then mix them with the cooked pork and other pot vegetables when you dice them or run them through the food processor.

How to stuff sausage

What you’ll need:
4 feet of hog casing, sized 32/35mm
1 tablespoon vegetable oil
A sausage stuffer

Method:
First, rinse the outside of the casing and then place it in a bowl of water for 30 minutes to soften. Drain the soaking water and then rinse the inside of the casing by placing one end on the kitchen faucet, turn the water on low and allow it to flow through the casing. The casing will blow up like a balloon—this is fine.

Lightly oil the stuffing horn on your sausage stuffer with vegetable oil. Tie a knot at one end of the casing. Take the other end and gently slide the entire casing onto the horn, leaving the knot plus an additional 4 inches hanging off the end of the horn.

Place the filling into the feeder and push it through until it starts to fill the casing. Go slowly at first and note that you’ll need to massage the casing as the meat goes through it so it fills the casing evenly.

Once you’ve filled the casing, to form links, pinch it every 5 inches and then twist it until it’s secure. You can then cut the casing to form individual sausages.

Before boiling or grilling, poke holes into the casing to get rid of air bubbles and to keep the sausage from bursting.

Keep reading...

Steak fingers with jalapeno cream gravy

“You’re not a fan of ‘Friday Night Lights? I can’t believe it!’” said a Texan friend to me, shaking her head.

Then there was my native New Yorker friend who said, “‘Friday Night Lights’ has made me fall in love with Texas. Tell me again why you don’t watch it?”

Finally, my dad threw his hat into the discussion. “Lisa, I tell you what! If there’s only one show you should watch on TV it should be ‘Friday Night Lights as it’s the best.’”

It soon became clear to me that by not watching “Friday Night Lights,” I’d been missing out on something important. So last week I got a Netflix online subscription and began viewing this show. And you know? Everyone was right—I am in love. The writing, the acting, the characters and its portrayal of small-town Texas life always remind me of home.

Now, I’m only halfway into the first season but this show set in the fictional town of Dillon, Texas has the power of making me laugh, cheer and cry—sometimes all at the same time. My high school days are long past but I know these characters, I know this way of life.

Take the Alamo Freeze—the ice cream and hamburger place on the show that is a fictional stand-in for a Dairy Queen. Many small Texas towns often will have only one dining option and it will be the Dairy Queen, which often serves as both a place to eat and as a community-gathering place. As Larry McMurtry has written, “Dairy Queens combined the function of tavern, café and general store; they were simple local roadhouses where both rambling men and simple stay-at-homes could meet.



Now, when you go to a Dairy Queen you may order an ice-cream cone dipped in crackling, crisp chocolate, a thick Blizzard milkshake chock full of goodies or a cheeseburger, both juicy and fat. But whenever I visit, I always order one thing: a basket of steak fingers.

Steak fingers, if you’re not familiar with them, are simply pounded, breaded and fried strips of beef. Yep, it’s basically chicken-fried steak made into finger food, which is probably how they got the name instead of their resembling a certain part of the body. (At least, that’s what I like to think, as it seems a bit more appetizing.)

Of course, you can find steak-finger baskets at all sorts of small-town cafes, truck stops and drive-ins across Texas, not just at the local Dairy Queen. But I always thought of them as eating-out food, not something to be made at home. Until my old friend Eleanor set me straight.

Eleanor and I grew up together in Houston, though like me she moved away and now lives in California. She was visiting New York last summer and we were sitting in Central Park talking about the foods that we missed. “I’d have to say that steak fingers are near the top of my list,” she said, staring off into the distance as she contemplated said steak fingers. I agreed with her and then asked her if she was partial to Dairy Queen’s steak fingers are some other restaurant’s version of the dish.

Eleanor gave me a funny look. “I miss my grandma’s steak fingers,” she said. “She’d always fry up a batch whenever I came to visit. Steak fingers for me are home cooking, not restaurant food!”

Steak fingers as home cooking? That was a revelation. Sure, I had toyed with making steak fingers but always thought it might seem out of place—especially as I don’t have any paper-lined baskets, which always seemed like a vital part of the steak-finger experience. But you know what? Since you can’t find steak fingers in New York I decided to make a batch based on my dad’s chicken-fried steak recipe. And sure enough, homemade steak fingers are pretty darn good. To complete my meal, I added roasted jalapeños and garlic to my cream gravy, making these home-cooked steak fingers just as good, if not better than what you’d find at a Dairy Queen or a roadside café.



I still have endless hours of “Friday Night Lights” ahead of me, which makes me smile, as each episode is a quick trip to Texas. And while my apartment might not be the Alamo Freeze or the Dairy Queen, but you can bet that I’ll sometimes be munching on steak fingers as I watch.

Steak fingers with jalapeño cream gravy

Ingredients for the jalapeño cream gravy:
2 jalapeños cut in half lengthwise, stems and seeds removed
2 cloves of garlic
2 tablespoons bacon grease or oil
2 tablespoons flour
1 1/2 cups whole milk
1/4 teaspoon ground cumin
Salt to taste

Ingredients for the steak:
2 pounds top round steak or cube steak
1 1/2 cups flour
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more to taste
1 teaspoon black pepper, plus more to taste
1/4 teaspoon cayenne
2 eggs
1 cup whole milk or buttermilk
Oil for frying

Method:
To make the cream gravy, place the halved jalapeños skin-side up and the garlic on a sheet and place under the broiler for 5 minutes or until jalapeños and garlic are blackened. Remove from the oven. Rub off the blackened jalapeño skin and then dice. Mince the roasted garlic.

In a large heavy skillet, heat up the bacon grease or oil on medium-low heat. Whisk in the flour and cook until fragrant and lightly browned, about a minute. Slowly pour in the milk and stir until thickened, which should take a couple of minutes.

Turn off the heat and stir in the diced jalapeños and garlic. Add the cumin and add salt to taste. If too thick for your tastes, add more milk. Reheat on low for serving.

To make the steaks, if you using top round steak, you’ll need to pound it with a meat mallet until flattened and doubled in size. If using cube steak, you can skip this step. Cut the tenderized steak into 16 strips.

Mix together the flour with the salt, black pepper and cayenne and place on a plate. Whisk together the eggs with the buttermilk. Lightly sprinkle the steak strips with salt and pepper then dredge each strip in the flour. Dip the flour-coated steak into the eggs and then dredge again in the flour.

Heat up the oven to 200 degrees. In a large heavy skillet, such as a cast-iron skillet, heat up an inch of oil to 300 degrees. Place 4 strips into the skillet and cook until you see red juices bubbling on top of the meat, about 2 or 3 minutes. With tongs, turn over the fingers and cook for another 3-5 minutes. Drain on a paper towel and place in the oven while you fry the remaining strips.

Serve with jalapeño cream gravy and buttered slices of Texas toast.

Yield: 4 servings

Note: I keep my flour seasonings simple but feel free to jazz yours up anyway you choose. Other seasoning you could add are paprika, granulated garlic, oregano or chili powder.

Keep reading...