A lot of hamburger!

Yesterday was Annette's art show. We decided to eat dinner with a friend after the show, but nobody wanted to go out. So, our friend said he'd bring some ground beef. He did. Three pounds of it. We already had one pound. The expiration date on this stuff comes up fast, so it's time to be creative.

Today after running errands, I checked the expiration date on one pack of ground beef. Sell by today. Joy! Hamburger again! No time to make buns, since we were already hungry. So what if I made an arepa heavily spiced with pimentón pepper and a bit of salt... fry it off, slice it in two and use it instead of a bun. Then some of that Australian blue cheese, some uncured bacon, some sautéd onions, a bit of arugula from the garden. The result: something thinner and easier to eat than a bun, with a great crunch factor. Lots of umami richness from the cheese, smokiness from the bacon and pimentón and a bitter counterpoint from the arugula.

We were more or less traditional yesterday with our friend. 140g patties made into maxi-sliders, with sesame seed mini-buns, garlic aioli, fresh tomato relish, lettuce. The meat was really a tower of beef mixed with bacon and garlic and char-grilled. The buns got sliced in thirds, the burgers in half, the tomato and aioli sauces slathered on, everything stacked and held together somewhat tenuously with toothpicks.

Now we only have about 1-1/2 pounds left to go. This pack has a later sell-by date, so it looks like we'll be able to take a burger break and eat something else. Not that I'm getting really tired of burgers... yet.

Venezuelan style arepas with pork

 

Leftover slow-cooked pork shoulder. Arepa flour. That skinny chili from the back of the garden. A leftover carrot. Some cilantro. The other half of the onion I used for some stock. Sounds like a recipe.

This time, Venezuela is the starting point. The formula for the arepas is even simpler: 1/2 arepa flour, 1/2 water. Some salt. Mix. Sit. Mold. Fry. Bake. Slice open. Fill. Eat. Burp.

I think a bit of cheese in the arepa dough wouldn't hurt them, so more experimentation will happen in the future. Maybe some dry goat, Parmesan or a mix of Mozzarella and dry goat... or maybe it's time to clean out the cheese drawer in the fridge and see what happens.

This is the slow cooked pork from a previous posting. Pork shoulder, white wine, garlic, more garlic, onions, fresh thyme, fresh oregano, the tomatoes that needed to be used, pronto.

The relish is chopped raw onions, cilantro, carrots, that funny red chili that was supposed to be hot but wasn't, and a garlicky herbal vinaigrette.

Chicken breasts with Hatch chili verde and Colombian arepas

Mesquite. Just repeat this word. Mesquite. Chunks of Mesquite. Glowing hot coals, sparks, smoke. This is how Hatch chilies should be blistered. As their skin blisters, cracks and darkens the smoke filters in, permeating the flesh. Bringing a hint of the wild, another level of flavor, the song of coyotes singing in the moonlight.

Now imagine chili verde made with this manna. A dash of heat, a soupçon of smoke, the tang of tomatillos, essences of herbs and garlic. A desert chorus like the smell of sage and flowers wafting across the desert on the night wind. Then a new element, perhaps an herbal bite of cilantro. A crispy, cheesy arepa lightly coated in green. Neutral white rice that carries the other flavors around your palate in a celebratory tango.

The Chicken.
Very simple. The chicken doesn't get, need or want any special treatment. It's just there as a meaty foil for the sauce.

• Boneless chicken breast
• Salt
• A bit of oil for a quick saute.

1. Pre-heat the oven to 425°. Ready a baking pan and a sheet of parchment paper.
2. Salt the chicken, then sauté it, skin side down in hot oil.
3. Once the chicken has browned a bit, flip it over briefly to sear the other side, then slide it onto the parchment paper and pop the sheet in the oven for about twenty minutes, depending on how thick the breast is and if you decided to pound it before cooking (I didn't).
4. When it's done, put it aside in a bowl to cool a bit.

The Sauce.
Get some Hatch chilis, straight from New Mexico. This year, they showed up stacked in a pile at the supermarket. Buy a case. Like chili verde? Buy more. They'll cook down, or you can make a few ristras for decoration and chili powder.

• Blister the chilis over mesquite, let them steam a bit. Peel, seed and core them. Chop them up.
• Pick some tomatillos from your garden where they're growing with mad abandon
• Chop up some onion
• Chop and paste some garlic
• Add some kosher salt
• Have some chicken stock on hand (or pork stock, if you're doing a piggy version)

1. Throw the onions in a pan to sauté. Add the garlic, the chopped chilis and the salt. Let it simmer a bit. 
2. Drop the mixture in something tall that holds hot sauce and blend it smooth.
3. Add the juice that sweated out of the chicken as it sat, blend it in. Check for saltiness, adjust. Set aside.

The Arepas
Don't use masa harina for arepas. They have their own kind of flour: pre-cooked corn flour that's not nixtamalized like masa harina. So, it's not as good for you, because nixtamalization uses lime to eat away part of the corn kernels and free up vitamins somehow. Of course, that lime also changes the flavor, and you don't want that corn tortilla taste here.

1. The formula is simple: 1/3 arepa flour, 1/3 water, 1/3 grated mozzarella. Plus an additional dose of grated pecorino romano cheese just for fun. A bit of salt, but be careful since the cheese is already salty.
2. Mix all this stuff together until it forms a sort of pasty dough. Set it aside a bit to equalize the moisture content.
3. Scoop out enough to make a small ball, about 1-1/2 inches in diameter, then smoosh the ball down into a flattish disc. Smooth the edges as you go.
4. Pop the discs into hot oil, brown one side. Flip. Brown the other. Place on a parchment paper lined baking sheet, and when it's full into the oven it goes for about 15 minutes at 425°F. 
5. The arepas should be crispy on the outside, light and a bit chewy on the inside. They should have a light cheese flavor backed with a subtle hint of corn.

If you've timed everything right, the sauce was ready first. Then the rice. Then the chicken. Then the arepas. That way, you get chicken juice to add to the sauce at the end and the arepas are red hot. Garnish with some cilantro and serve.