Simpletons, Jason's Pleasure. Recipe #3

What follows might seem a little crazy, what with my passion for details. So here's the short form, in case you're hungry NOW.

Cook an egg.
Briefly sauté a couple slices of tomato.
Make the two be friends.
Eat.

Now for those of you who like the details and the story, or perhaps you've just quenched your hunger and have more patience now...

I like eggs. I make no apologies for that. Do you remember when everyone ran from egg yolks as fast as their stubby legs could carry them while screaming, "I'll have the egg white omelet!" Even at that their friends would give them a sideways glance. Well, my egg devouring didn't skip a beat. Later, when the mighty Experts recanted their foul oaths, I stopped eating them. It's true. I went egg-less for a time, but I returned to my old favourite about three years ago. Since that time, I've usually made eggs in four different ways: over easy, over-cooked over easy, hole in the middle, and scrambled. Tonight I decided on a variation. (Yes, sometimes eggs at night. It's an appetiser; I was too hungry to wait for the rest of my food.) The idea came to me while I pondered my lack of bread and unwillingness to fry potatoes. It's a tip of the hat to the tomato, Peterborough, Jeff, and the East City Diner.

So like, get an egg or two, man. My fave egg is deliciously over easy. Yes, the timing is important, but really, it's all in the pan. For all you saps using Teflon(C), good luck getting this right. Cast iron, baby. It's just as important as a quality, razor-sharp chef's knife. I found my favourite pan at an outdoor flea market. It's your standard 10" model, except it has rounded sides. This way I can get my exercise while tossing my food. If you are one of the unfortunate ones who either don't own or understand cast iron, there are two things you need to know. Most important, don't use a thin pan. (That's fine if you are sautéing something and constantly tossing it, but call me before you toss an egg. I wanna watch.) On a thin pan the heat is very uneven. It's difficult to cook a good egg, and absolutely impossible to cook a decent Reuben sandwich on one. They are the scourge of most kitchens. Second, use a bit of your fave oil or perhaps even butter. (I prefer olive oil.) "Dry" eggs just aren't my thing. They look like they've been tortured, and they lack flavour.

Okay. Down to brass tacks.

Cook an egg in your favourite manner - obviously over easy.

I throw a bit of salt, a lot of coarse pepper, and a healthy dose of cayenne pepper on my eggs. BUT, if you use cayenne don't put it on the egg while it's cooking. Doing so will mute the flavour of the spice and reduce its heat level. I know you don't want that to happen.

And now, the coup d'état.

Get a couple slices off a good size tomato. Don't go too thin. About 1/2" is great.

Get your pan smokin' hot, but don't wreck your fancy Teflon. You release poisonous chemicals into your food if you crank Teflon too high. But please, keep supporting the use of industrial products in cookware.

Hot, but not so hot that your oil is setting off the fire alarm. Keep in mind the differing
smoke-points of oils. Sunflower oil has a very high smoke-point, so your pan will be too
hot when that starts smoking. Olive oil is more mid-range, and butter is lower.

With my cast iron I put the burner at max (but stoves vary) for about 30 seconds with a bit of oil in it. This was right after doing the egg, so the pan was already heated. Then I tossed down my tomato slices, counted off 20 seconds, flipped, counted, removed, and put the egg on top.

Let me tell ya. It's the simple things, baby.

Recipe #171: Jason's Indignation

I just love the pasta genre of cooking. Of course when North Americans hear the word "pasta", we usually envision meat balls or salads. A long time ago I realized that it was an injustice to limit staple foods to only a few areas. My continuing pasta fetish happens to be in the curry-ish realm. Since I prefer savoury to sweet, they usually carry a decent bite. Now, a word of caution.

There are two primary types of cooking. The most common one is mass production, and I'm not just referring to restaurants and processed quasi-food. I'm not dissing it -- except for the quasi-food -- because it is necessary, but it's not my favourite. The less utilised type centres on the artistry of food. That's where I live. So, since I cook by feel, well mostly by smell, it's difficult for me to precisely pin down quantities. Of course this results in three types of meals.

1. Hot Damn! J, you are a food god.
2. This is okay.
3. What is this crap?

I'm most often in the range of number 2. But there are those moments...mmmm, I love fresh, spicy food.

Jason's Indignation is such a moment. The best part about this is the distinct flavours. Please don't feel that you need to exactly follow this. That's not how I cook, and good luck following me anyway. Adjust spices as you feel necessary. I seldom measure, so my listed amounts are very approximate. Give more attention to the idea than the number.


Fresh ingredients:
Lamb *
Carrots
Red Bell Pepper
Green Bell Pepper
Garlic
Ginger Root
Tomato

Stored Ingredients:
Brown Rice Pasta (spaghetti in my case)
Apple Juice
Canned Crushed Tomatoes

Spices:
Chili Powder
Rosemary
Mace
Garam Masala **
Dried Mustard
---
Salt
Black Pepper (preferably ground)


I recommend preparing all the fresh ingredients before beginning to cook, but that depends on your speed and ability. All that I use in the preparation of these fresh ingredients is a sharp chef's knife (8") and a cutting board. Anything else is a marketing ploy designed to steal money that should be spent purchasing gorgeous spices. Technique is important, and a dull knife is your enemy. My favourite cookbook gives basic instructions: "Bake It Like a Man" (ISBN - 10: 0688155804)

The person who came up with the concept of sautéing food probably had an angelic visitation. Just saying the word makes me hungry. I prefer using olive oil. Use whatever your little health conscious heart desires, but olive oil is a decent option, and using anything else does impact the flavour. That's right. My palate is that keen.

I would guess that I use a 6 oz. piece of lamb. Slice it into small chunks or strips so that you can sauté fairly quickly without overcooking. I use a bit of olive oil because I'm a huge believer in cast iron pans and its flavour, but you don't have too. Unless you've purchased a hyper fat-pared meat, it won't stick to the pan for long. Before sautéing I add salt, pepper, and rosemary. Don't go overkill on the rosemary: perhaps just over 1/4 teaspoon. Once the meat is very nearly done, I toss in about three cloves worth of finely diced garlic. Make sure it mingles well. You want the garlic to slightly brown, as it does wonders for the flavour. Keep all this separate for later.

For a single serving I use an average sized whole carrot sliced into 1/8" thick (3mm) "coins". Toss these into a hot pan with a bit of oil. Throw down salt and pepper, and watch those babies sizzle. I don't actually cook them 'till they go brown. It's a fine line. I don't want them burnt, but I do want them fairly soft and nearly browned. Keep the carrots separate. This is full-on flavour apartheid.

Slice and dice however much bell pepper tickles your fancy. Fresh garlic is my friend, so I finely dice another two cloves, and they're not tiny. Ginger is very provocative. I dice a chunk roughly 1" by 1/2". Tomato will brighten your day, so I slice a whole one into strips. A good tomato isn't bashful, after all. You want to bite down on a reasonable piece, since we are adding some crushed tomatoes anyway. Whatever you do, try to use a properly ripe one.

For myself, one serving of spaghetti almost fits between my thumb and index finger. A circle roughly 1 1/4" in diameter. I cook my rice pasta at a strong boil for 5 - 6 minutes, then off it goes. Strain and briefly rinse in cold water and return to a decent sized pot. Now we get exciting. Throw the entire last paragraph into the pot with the pasta. Dole out a few tablespoon's worth of the crushed tomatoes, but contrary to typical pasta wisdom, we are not looking for a tomato dictatorship. Too much, and you'll lose the effect of the spices. Now the apple juice. Don't go crazy, but remember that we will be boiling this mixture at about medium for five minutes. If I haven't added enough initially, I add more, ending up with something rather in the stew range of sloppiness. I would guess that I use roughly 3/4 - 1 cup of AJ.

While this is boiling, throw in chili powder, mace, and dried mustard. I love the CP, so I probably put in 3/8 of a teaspoon. Mace requires care, just like you didn't mess with a guy carrying one in the Middle Ages. At most I use 1/8 of a teaspoon. Add the dried mustard, probably just over a 1/8 tsp. Perhaps a minute before this last boil is done, throw in almost 1/2 a teaspoon garam masala and mix well.

Just before you serve this breathtaking mixture, we end apartheid. I'm so progressive. Join all the brethren together in a well stirred mix. Although now all in one mass, each separate element will maintain a distinct flavour adding that extra punch to Jason's Indignation.



* I purchase inexpensive cuts of shoulder arm chops at A & P, of all places. They aren't the most tender choice, but they are nonetheless flavourful and don't break the bank. The price falls between chicken and lean beef, surprisingly enough. In North America most Caucasians grossly underestimate or misunderstand lamb. For one thing, it should never be cooked more than medium, or it becomes dry. It happens to be my favourite red meat, but not everyone appreciates the strong smell as it cooks.

** Garam Masala is a somewhat complex blend. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Garam_masala