I’d give up most of the cooking equipment in my house in exchange for my grill.
I went two years without one and once I bit the bullet and bought a new one, even I’m amazed at the sheer magnitude of food that can grilled. Clearly cake is a good illustration of that. But I’m also fairly smitten with grilled corn with sriracha butter, and grilled salad (for real), and even pizza (especially pizza).
Because grilling isn’t just about the food, it’s about the process, it’s about the atmosphere, and it’s about the fact that you can. Winter has lifted, you are now free to cook your food outdoors over an open flame. It’s healthy, but that’s not the point. And of all the beer related food, grilling just demands beer.
Grilled Angel Food Cake with Beer Macerated Strawberries
There’s a beauty and effortlessness in the collaboration of beer people. It’s an illustration of the spirit of community that exists in the world of craft beer. And indicator of how brewers are fans of each others, how the idea of competition is so so faint, it almost can’t be felt, how beer people cheer each other on and push each other forward.
Beer week, regardless of the city you’re in, has a way of brining these collaborations to the years giddy apex. This year Seattle beer weeks collaboration may be the largest yet. Six different breweries, Black Raven, Pike Brewing, Naked City, Georgetown, Schooner Exact, and Elysian brewing, all came together to brew one beer. A great session IPA that has a beautifully well balanced hop flavor that’s insanely drinkable.
Lucky for beer people, as well as those just looking to explore hopped up liquors, Beer Weeks are popping up all over the country. If you’re in the Pacific Northwest, check out Seattle Beer Week May 8-18th. If you aren’t make sure to check out the beer week in your area and support local brewers, local beer and local economy, with the added benefit of a day full of great beer in your pint glass.
Heat the olive oil in a pan over medium high heat.
Sprinkle the shrimp all over with salt and pepper. Add to the pan, cook until pink on all sides, remove from pan, set aside.
Add the onions and red pepper, cook until softened and slightly caramelized, about 8 minutes.
Add the pineapple, pepper, 2/3 cup beer, honey, vinegar, and cornstarch, cook over a low simmer until pineapple has broken down and sauce has thickened, about 10 minutes.
Add the shrimp back in as well as the remaining 2 tablespoons beer, stir until combined, remove from heat. Serve over rice, sprinkle with green onions prior to serving.
Don’t roll your eyes at me. I’m not even sorry that I keep making you skewers.
I’m in a mood to put meat on sticks these days, and the grill is officially open. I’ve also discovered that filet tips are perfect for getting soaked in beer, stabbed with a metal skewer and thrown on a hot grill. Which makes them my new meat best friend.
Let’s talk about those tips I speak of for a second. When you decide it’s a good day to throw a Hot Meat Party (normal humans call these "barbecues") and invite your friends to partake in said hot meat for the price of some (hopefully good) beer or other edible offering, you should choose your meat carefully. You want something that’s going to impress, but feeding an army of hungry beer thieves takes a lot of meat. Tips can often be less expensive than buying a whole filet and better flavor than buying a cheap cut.
Beer marinading is a must with Hot Meat, the natural meat tenderizing properties of beer give the meat an added ability to stay tender and full of flavor even when exposed to high levels of grill induced heat. It also makes your beer bearing friends so impressed with your grill skills, they’ll bring better beer next time.
Grilled Beer Marinated Prosciutto Wrapped Filet Tip Skewers
One of the perks of blogging is the invitations for the behind the scenes tours of places you’d never be allowed in otherwise, to fully indulge the Food Geek in all of us in the how it’s made process that thrills and fascinates those of that have dedicated our loves to internet food. The vast majority of these invites I turn down. The ones I accept are only from companies I can get behind.
Harry & David is a fantastic Pacific Northwest company. Although I choose to highlight their pears and Moose Munch, they’re so much more. They even have a well stocked bottle shop section of their Harry & Davids company store in Medford Oregon, I picked up a bottle of Alameda My Bloody Valentine and Walkabout Jabberwocky Ale. I was also amazed that this company that does such large volumes or candy, fruit, wine and gifts was run by a small and dedicated team. They all seemed to know each other, support each other and value the quality of their products. It’s exactly the type of company I want to support. Plus there is talk of beer cheese dip and beer bread mixes making their way into the Harry and David baskets, something I’m definitely keeping an eye out for.
Until then, I’ve poached some pears in beer and smothered them with beer chocolate sauce and topped it with some of that famous Moose Munch for a little texture.
Beer Poached Pears with Chocolate Stout Fudge Sauce and Moose Munch Crumble
In a large pot over medium high heat add the beer, 1 cup sugar, vanilla, cloves. Bring to a simmer. Add the pears and enough hot water so that pears float. Cook until the pears are fork tender, 15-20 minutes.
In a separate pot add the chocolate stout, corn syrup, remaining 1/3 cup sugar and cocoa powder, bring to a simmer. Cook, stirring occasionally, until thickened, about 8 minutes.
Drain the pears and add to small bowls. Drizzle with chocolate sauce, sprinkle with chopped Moose Munch.
Notes
*For the poaching liquid you want a malty beer, but not a dark beer (dark beers may change the color of the pears). Look for a Belgian ale, brown ale or amber ale.
*You can also use regular caramel corn in place of Moose Munch.
Harry & David paid all the expenses for the trip , but this post was not sponsored or expected.
If I’m feeling stressed, or overwhelmed in any way, it’s my go-to liquor of choice. There is a comfort and familiarity a good stout brings. It’s the cable knit sweater of the beer world. And maybe that gives me the beer soul of an old man, but I’ll take it.
Lucky for me the Pacific North West is a hot bed of great dark beers, from the tried and true Black Butte Porter, and the hard to find Big Lebrewski, to the award wining Shakespeare stout, I’m in a good place now that my stress level has been turned to 11.
I do strange things when I’m at maximum stress level, like make flavored salt. Because really, I don’t NEED flavored salt, I just need to make it. I need to know that I can take refuge in a ridiculous creation of a flavored salt that I made just because it tastes like one of my favorite beers.
Shakespeare stout is a great choice, it’s a fantastic beer.
Shakespeare is a great guy to have around, this is a beer that wins awards, show up when you need him and is easy to find from San Diego to Kansas. Maybe I just need a guy who show up when I need him, is that too much to ask?
The salt that resulted in my high heat abuse of our good friend Shakey, has some nice beer flavor. It makes a fantastic rim salt for your Beer Bloody Mary, or any savory cocktail. I might also suggest sprinkling it on a crostini with goat cheese and smoked salmon, or salting your beer marinated steak with it before it hits the grill. But it’s your call.
I’ve decided that the grill is officially open. Regardless of the weather, regardless of the time constraints, regardless of the lack of Meats on Sticks occasions in my near future. The grill needs to be open. Maybe it’s the catastrophic levels of stress in my life right now, maybe it’s my severe vitamin D deficiency since leaving Southern California, or maybe the grill should never be closed at all.
There’s a therapeutic quality to the first grilled food of the season. That delicious char you’d almost forgotten about. Cooking in the great wide open with sun on your face, beer in one hand, ridiculously oversized tongs in the other. And the realization that winter has passed. It all adds up to one of the most satisfying meals of the year.
Although I am considering not closing the grill at all next winter, but I’ll report back to you once the snow hits.
1 ½tspsweet smoked paprikaor 1 tsp sweet and ½ tsp smoked paprika
2tbstomato paste
2tspkosher salt
1teaspoonfreshly ground black pepper
4large garlic clovesgrated with a microplane
2 1/4poundsskinless boneless chickenthighs or breast, cut into cubes
vegetable oil for the grill
2tbschopped fresh parsley
Instructions
In a large bowl stir together the yogurt, beer, red pepper, paprika, tomato paste, salt, pepper, and garlic. Add the chicken cubes, stir until fully submerged and coated. Cover and refrigerate for at least 2 hours and up to 24.
Preheat grill to medium high.
Remove chicken from marinate and thread onto metal skewers (or presoaked wood skewers), discard marinade.
Brush the grill with oil to prevent sticking.
Grill the chicken skewers on each side until cooked through, about 5 minutes per side.
Sprinkle with chopped parsley before serving, if desired.
Everyone wants to feel like they have things figured out. That they have everything in it’s designated box. You’e made decisions, said decisions help you navigate the world.
And every once in a while that comfortable social constructionists gets a bit rocked. You hate country music but you find yourself sinfully signing along to Devil Went Down to Georgia and really enjoying yourself. And you watch the entire last half of Pitch Perfect when it comes on HBO and will never admit that you YouTubed the last performance three times the next days.
Which is the same reason you barely glance at the Vegetarian section of the menu at resturants. Because you’ve decided that you like meat, and that section doesn’t apply to you. And then an ice cream comes alone and it’s better than any other chocolate ice cream you’ve had and it’s vegan. Which makes you wonder about those line dancing bars you’ve avoided and the American cars you never test drove.
Because it’s just plants and beer and it’s better than the "regular" ice cream your usually drawn to. And that makes you want to explore the other things that just aren’t you. Which may be a good thing, but they don’t always end this well.
Chocolate Stout and Toasted Coconut Ice Cream (vegan)
In a large sauce pan over medium high heat add the coconut milk, sugar, stout, and cocoa powder. Bring to a simmer. Cook, stirring occasionally, until slightly thickened, about 8 minutes.
Chill for at least 2 hours or until cold to the touch.
Preheat oven to 350.
Add coconut flakes to a baking sheet. Bake for 3 minutes, stir and continue to bake until golden brown, about 3 additional minutes.
Churn in ice cream maker according to manufactures specifications until a soft serve consistency, about 15 minutes.
Add to an air tight container, stir in the coconut flakes.
Chill until firm, at least 2 hours.
*While sugar is inherently vegan, some companies use processes using animal bones. If you’re concerned about it, look for a company that produces vegan sugar, like the Whole Foods 365 brand.
Beer is similar, to make sure the stout you choose is vegan check Barnivoire to make sure.
When I was 19 I thought it was a great idea to drive a 20-year-old Ford Bronco nearly the entire length of the 5 Freeway to be my primary means of transportation.
Slow, old, unreliable, often ticketed, frequently towed, it didn’t end well. I was broke and had barely enough money to fill the gas tank, let alone maintain it. Which lead to finding creative ways to deal with the mechanical issues that arose. When one of my headlights went out, I discovered that the brights still worked just fine. So I never turned them off.
Late one night, headed to Hollywood on the 101 I was behind a well cared for vintage Cadillac, my brights reflecting off his rear view mirror. He slams on his breaks, skids slightly towards the median. I do the same. Luckily the breaks on the Bronco were still going strong and I stop inches from his bumper.
In the middle of late night Los Angeles on the far left lane of the freeway, he gets out of his car and heads toward my door, cars whizzing past us at 70 miles per hour. I was too close to him to drive around, just inches from his bumper. As he gets closer I can see he is still wearing dark sunglasses, the stems tucked under his red dew rag. I can’t see his eyes.
He walks to my window and motions for me to roll it down. As I crank the window down, heart racing blood pumping in my ears, he pushes his black and white plaid shirt back, just the top button is buttoned, the rest open. He puts his hands in the pockets of his black Dickies pants and I can see his white tank top and the butt of silver pistol in the waist band of his pants. I know instantly that he wants me to see it.
"Your brights" he says, swaying slightly so that I can see the light reflect off his gun. "They are on."
"Yeah. I’m sorry…" I don’t know what else to say.
"You need to turn them off."
"Ok." I’m frozen. I can’t move.
"Now. Turn them off now."
"Ok. Yeah." I’m shaking. I reach up and switch them off, my left headlight going dim completely.
"Thank you. Have a nice evening." He waits a beat before smiling, covering the gun and walking back to his car.
Nothing really happened, but I was shaken. I immediately got off the freeway and stopped at a roadside taco stand to catch my breath. And I asked the lady behind the counter the question I always ask at a new place, "What do you eat?" She said she eats the stuffed peppers. They aren’t on the menu, but she’d make them for me. I was grateful. I never ended up making it to The Troubadour that night, but those stuffed peppers were worth it.
No matter how great beer is in meat recipes, bread will always be it’s culinary kindred spirit. Because the heart and soul of bread and beer is the same: yeast. The beast that gives us bread, also gives us beer. A few months ago I was interviewing a brewer at an LA brewery who told me how he really feels about his job, "I don’t work for the brewery, I work for the yeast."
It might sound intimidating, but really, nothing will work harder for you in the kitchen than yeast. It’s the most active ingredient you’ll ever work with, it becomes a cooking partner if you can just follow it’s rules and it will do more for your bread than you do.
And there is something about watching yeast dough rise, smelling it bake in your kitchen, and tasting it fresh from the oven that just has healing powers. Just follow the simple steps: make sure the yeast hasn’t expired, make sure the temperate is correct (use a cooking thermometer), and make sure your kitchen isn’t too cold, and you’ll be fine. You’re yeast will work for you to make a gorgeous loaf.
Then theres the beer, that has it’s own yeast, and it’s made from bread like ingredients. It’s a bread makers dream when it comes to baking the perfect batch of cinnamon rolls. You’ll get more than what you’ve worked for, and a batch of unforgettable rolls that are more than worth the effort they took. Plus you’ll be able to serve beer for breakfast, and that’s a dream all on it’s own.
In the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with a dough hook add the flour, sugar, rapid rise yeast (do not use regular dry active yeast), and dry milk powder. Stir to combine.
In a microwave safe bowl, melt the butter. Add the cream and stout, microwave for 15 seconds, test temperature and repeat until the temperature of the liquid reaches between 120 and 125 degrees.
Add liquid to the mixer and stir until incorporated.
Add the egg yolk and salt, mix on medium high speed until dough comes together and gathers around the blade.
Place the dough in a lightly oiled large bowl, cover with plastic wrap and allow to sit in a warm room until doubled in size, 1 ½ to 2 hours.
On a lightly floured surface roll out the dough to an approximately 12 inch by 16 inch rectangle.
In a bowl stir together the butter, granulated sugar, brown sugar, and cinnamon.
Spread the cinnamon-sugar butter evenly over the dough. Cut the dough in half, lengthwise.
Starting at the long end, roll each half into a tight log.
Cut each log into 1-inch rolls, place cut side up in a mini muffin tin (or tightly into a baking dish) that has been sprayed with cooking spray. Cover and allow to rise until doubled, about 45 minutes (to make ahead, the second rise can take place over 12 hours in a refrigerator. Remove from fridge and allow to come to room temperature the following day prior baking).
Heat oven to 350. Bake until golden brown, about 22-25 minutes.
To make the frosting, beat the softened butter and softened cream cheese until well combined and fluffy. Add the powdered sugar and mix until well combined. Add the beer and mix until light and fluffy. Spread frosting on rolls prior to serving.
When I was a kid I thought you grew up, picked a life and that’s were you sat. You stayed in this grown-up place, and that was it. You’d found your grown-up life and you were done.
But my grown-up life seems to go through a comprehensive metamorphosis every few years. New city, new job, new people. For a natural-born gypsy with the soul of a wanderer, this isn’t a bad thing. Experiences are satisfying and change can be cleansing.
But then there are times when it seems catastrophically difficult, even when it’s necessary. Like cleaning out road rash so the wounds of a bike crash will heal. Sometimes it’s the cleaning that hurts more than the crash. But it’s part of the process, part of the evolution, part of necessity of growth that keeps us from the stagnation that will kill our souls.
Growth, change, healing, just because it hurts doesn’t mean it isn’t the right path. Keep moving forward, keep breathing, know that it isn’t selfish to fight for your own happiness. Know that it’s hard because it’s worth it.
These are the days I bake. The days I cover fruit in sugar. The days I open a beer, grab a friend and take stock of the things I’m truly grateful for. Because no matter what is on the the hard list, the good list can always be longer.
Lime Sugared Blackberry and Coconut Pale Ale Pastry Cream Tart
Add ¾ cups of flour, salt and sugar to a food processor, pulse to combine. Add the butter and egg yolk, process until well combined and dough gathers around the blade.
Add the remaining flour and pulse 6-8 times or until all the flour has been coated.
Transfer to a bowl. Using a rubber spatula, stir in the beer until completely incorporated into the dough (don’t add the beer in the food processor or your dough will turn into a cracker). Dough will be very soft.
Lay a long sheets of plastic wrap on a flat surface.
Place the dough onto the plastic wrap, form into flat disks.
Wrap disk tightly in plastic wrap, chill for 1 hour and up to 3 days.
Preheat the oven to 350.
Roll the tart dough into an even circle on a lightly floured surface. Line a tart pan with the crust. Prick bottom of the tart with a fork several times, adding pie weights if desired.
Bake at 350 until lightly golden brown, about 15-18 minutes. Allow to cool.
In a sauce pan off heat add the milk, cream, coconut milk, vanilla, egg yolks, Saison, sugar and cornstarch, whisk until well combined. Add to medium heat, whisk until thickened, about 10 minutes.
Pour pastry cream into crust. Chill until set and cooled, about 3 hours.
Add the sugar and lime zest to a food processor, process until all the lime oils and sugars have been well combined, about 3 minutes (this can be done days or even weeks in advance, keep in an air tight container until ready to use.)
Just prior to serving, add the blackberries to a bowl, pour the sugar over the berries, toss until well well coated.
I know the google stalking that goes on. But don’t think it’s one sided. I see the key word searches, or the things you post about me on Facebook, but I do the same thing.
I’ve clicked over to your page too, seen the vacation photos and the fact that you also have a mild obsession with Bill Withers too, and I’ve wondered if we’d be friends in real life. I’ve clicked over to your Pinterest page after you’ve re-pinned one of my pins and thought we could hang out. Have some beers and talk about those rustic modern houses we love but will probably never have. Or the make up tutorials that we will never even attempt.
The breweries we’ve been to and the ones still on our lists. The places we’ve been, the place we want to go and the places we wished we’d skipped. We would laugh and talk and share some beer, if we knew each other in real life. I’d tell you all the things I’m afraid to type out loud and you’d understand.
Because beer people are that way. We like each other, we get along and we root for each other. If only we knew each other in real life, we’d each pick up a round of pints and hang out in person. Beer does that, it seems to level the playing field and make us all friends.
1cupfresh orange juiceabout 3 large naval or cara cara oranges
2tbssoy sauce
½tspred chili saucesuch as sriracha
1tspred chili flake
¼tspsmoked paprika
½tsponion powder
1/3cupbrown sugar
½cupporter
1lbsboneless skinless chicken thighs4-6 large
salt and pepper
Rice for serving
Instructions
In a medium bowl whisk together the garlic, orange juice, soy sauce, red chili sauce, red chili flake, smoked paprika, onion powder, brown sugar and porter.
Sprinkle the chicken thighs on all sides with salt and pepper.
Add chicken to the marinade, cover and chill for at least 2 hours and up to 8 hours.
Preheat oven to 400.
Pour the chicken and the marinade into a cast iron skillet.
Bake at 400 for 15 minutes. Turn chicken over and continue to bake until cooked through, about 15 additional minutes.
Remove chicken from the skillet and transfer to a serving platter.
Place the skillet and the marinade over high heat, stirring occasionally, until reduced and thickened. Pour glaze over chicken before serving.
Note: if you don’t own a cast iron skillet, pour the chicken and marinade into a baking dish. Once the chicken is cooked through, pour marinade into a pot and cook until reduced to a glaze.
Note: If glaze becomes too thick and sticky, return to heat, stirring in a few splashes of beer to thin.
I was in a port town in Greece, waiting for a boat to take me back to Italy, when I decided to spend the last bit of money I had with me on Baklava. This was the moment I realized how important food had become to me. I had just spent my last year of college working three jobs in order to save enough money to buy a plane ticket to Europe and hope that my Europe On A Shoestring guide book would get me through the trip with enough money leftover to make my first student loan payment when I got home. Like any great obsession, there is very little choice in the matter. It either grabs you or it doesn’t, and it often isn’t until it’s too late that you see that the shark has your leg.
A side effect of this affliction is an extraordinary fixations that it creates. Sometimes it’s a dish. Sometimes it’s an ingredient. Sometimes its a cooking method.
I have in no way been saved from these fixations. It’s gnocchi, and goat cheese, and roasted chicken, and the perfect dinner rolls, and caramel, and so many more.
I started making caramel a few years ago, it’s simple. You just need a candy thermometer and the patience not to walk away, since that will always be the moment the sugar burns. Caramel has become an obsession, what I can put in it, or on it, or with it, or how many times I can make it during Christmas before people start to roll their eyes.
Don’t leave me alone with sugar and a pot. You never know what you’ll come back too, but it’ll probably be a dark amber color and taste like beer.
In the bowl of a stand mixer with a whisk attachment add the butter and brown sugar, beat on high until well combined.
Add the egg, yolk and vanilla extra, mix until well combined, light and fluffy.
Add 2 tablespoons stout, stir until combined.
Sprinkle the flour and salt over the butter mixture, stir until combined.
Spread evenly into a greased 8X8 baking pan.
Bake at 350 for 22-25 minutes or until the top is golden brown. Allow to cool completely.
In a pot over high heat add the butter, brown sugar, white sugar, corn syrup, heavy cream and ¼ cup stout. Stir until the butter has melted and the sugar has dissolved.
Allow to boil until a dark caramel color and reached 248 degrees on a candy thermometer, about 8 minutes. Allow to cool for ten minutes.
Pour over the blondies layer, chill until set, about 3 hours.
A few days ago I was given word that I’m a finalist for a Saveur award for BEST Original Recipes. Best on the entire internet and in the entire world. Out of the millions of food blogs out there and out of the 30,000 they considered, they chose The Beeroness as one of the six best.
I’d love to tell you that I feel justified, or vindicated. But really, I feel humbled. I feel honored. I even feel a little overwhelmed.
I want you to like what I’m doing. I want you to make my recipes for your family, I want them to become your recipes, for these recipes to be a great excuse to explore craft beer. But I never really needed it to be more than that, more than just me and you making some beer food and sharing it over a few pints.
And the Saveur goes and makes me want this too. I want to win it, for us, for the love of beer food.
Heat the chicken broth, water and beer in a pot over medium heat. Add the polenta and cook over a low simmer, stirring occasionally, until creamy. About 30 minutes. Stir in the butter and cheese, add salt and pepper to taste.
While the polenta is cooking, make the shrimp.
In a small bowl stir together the chili powder, garlic powder, onion powder, red chili flavors, smoked paprika and salt, set aside.
Melt the 2 tablespoons of butter in a skillet over medium high heat. Add the garlic and stir until fragrant, about 30 seconds. Stir in the beer.
Add the shrimp, sprinkle with seasonings.
Cook the shrimp until pink, remove from heat.
In a small bowl stir together the crema and lime.
Plate the polenta, top with shrimp and avocado slices, drizzle with crema.
I use Bob’s Red Mill Polenta (affiliate link), it’s non-GMO, organic, very consistent and really high quality.
I have this idea that breakfast is a mark for true culinary hospitality. It’s much more intimate than dinner, it’s more vulnerable in a way. You’ve had dinner with hundreds of people, but how many people have you had breakfast with?
How many times have you made breakfast for someone? How often do you get up early, put on a larger pot of the good coffee, mapped out several dishes to serve someone just past dawn?
Those people are the special ones. I bet the people you’ve done that for are the ones you keep in your life, keep with you through the hard times. The ones who help you move, the ones who’s weddings you’ve gone to hung over from the festivities of the night before, the ones who show up at the hospital, the ones who don’t forget your birthday.
So when we make these breakfast, for those Breakfast Worthy People in our lives, it should be something great. Something unforgettable. Something that we need to schedule a mid day run to work off.
And beer is absolutely acceptable during these breakfast festivities.
In a medium bowl add the cream cheese, melted chocolate, granulated sugar and salt. Using a hand mixer, mix until well combined. Add the 3 tablespoons chocolate stout, mix until well combined and creamy.
Slice the bread into 4 inch slices (about 6 total).
Using a sharp knife, make a slit in the center of the bread slices, forming a pocket for the filling.
In a medium bowl add the eggs, cream, ½ cup chocolate stout, vanilla, and sugar, whisk until well combined.
Add the graham cracker crumbs to a shallow bowl or a plate.
Melt the butter in a large skillet over medium high heat.
One at a time spoon the filling into the bread slices. Dip in the egg mixture, making sure to coat well. Allow the liquid to drain off the bread, then place on the graham cracker crumbs, turning over to coat the other side as well.
Place the French toast in the hot pan, cook on each side until golden brown, about 4 minutes per side.
This blog has always been about pushing craft beer forward. The importance of the flavors that come with good beer, and how to explore those in a new way. From the beginning you got that and you stood next to me, exposing people to craft beer through food by sharing the recipes I’ve posted.
And today, we got a win. Just hours ago Saveur, a leader in field of culinary exploration, announced the finalist for the Best Food Blog Awards. Out of the 1.3 million food blogs world wide, The Beeroness was nominated along with just 5 others as one of the Best Original Recipe Blogs.
That’s us. You, me, good food and great beer. It’s a huge step when it comes to showing the world how important good beer is. It’s a huge indicator that "cooking with beer" is no longer seen as beer can chicken made with a pale macro lager. It’s important flavors and practical applications. It’s us pushing beer onto the same playing field as wine.
Let’s show people that craft beer is a culinary force to be reckoned with.
4large bonesless skinless chicken thighscut into small cubes
½cupBelgian ale
13.5fl oz coconut milk
3tbsthai red curry paste
1tbsfish sauce
1tbslime juice
pinchcayenne pepper
¼cupcilantrochopped
3tbsroasted peanutschopped
Rice or Rice noodles for serving
Instructions
In a large skillet or wok heat the olive oil over medium high heat. Add the onions and sauté until soft and slightly brown, about 3 minutes. Add the chicken, cooking until browned on all sides.
Add the beer, scraping to deglaze the pan.
Lower the heat, add the coconut milk, curry paste, fish sauce, lime juice and cayenne pepper. Simmer until thickened, about 10 minutes.
Serve over rice or rice noodles, garnish with cilantro and peanuts just prior to serving.
When I first got into cooking, I was terrified of pronunciation. There is this huge gap between reading a word, knowing it, being able to cook the crap out of it and being about to say it out loud. To other humans. Who have ears.
I spent an entire summer making Galettes. Look at these! So cute and rustic! With a homemade crust! and I can’t talk about them in public because I don’t know if it’s Guh-Lay or Gal-Let. DAMN IT!! (By the way, it’s Gah-Let).
Then came the Great Quinoa Explosion of 2007 and I wasn’t sure about that one either. Jesus Christ why is there so many vowels?! (It’s Keen-Wa, by the way).
So then we all get fancy and stop calling them green beans and the words haricots verts start coming my way. And even after I figured out it’s pronounced "ah-ree-koh-ver" I still can’t bring myself to say it that way, they are French green beans. Because I grew up on a farm and I drink beer.
A few years ago I decided that I need unbiased proof that I was actually good at this recipe development thing. That my recipes were good, not because the photos were pretty, or because they sounded good, or because some guy on twitter said he wanted to marry me.
But that an unbiased panel of experts thought they were good.
My solution to my self-esteem crisis was to enter recipe contests. The second one I entered was a chicken cook-off. Of course I choose chicken thights, and added a chipotle béarnaise and a few months later I got a call: I was in the finals. The unbiased panel of experts had chosen my recipe, along with 4 others, out of thousands of recipes that were submitted as the best that were entered. A few weeks later they shipped me off to San Diego to compete in a Chicken Challenge that ended with a giant foam core check with my name on it. I’d won.
Of course the $1000 check and trip to San Diego was a great prize, but the real trophy was the validation that I was actually good at this thing I want to dedicate my life to. At a post Winner Winner Chicken Dinner press conference I’d asked one of the chefs who had been a part of the original selection process what he looked for in a recipe, clearly he didn’t make all thousand submitted recipes.
He told me that all great entree recipes have these elements: fat, acid, protein, and a fresh herb. That’s what he looked for. Maybe that’s why I always reach from something green to sprinkle on top of the entrees I make.
Although he didn’t say anything about beer. Maybe he should re think his strategy.
Porter Caramelized Onion Flatbreads with Smoked Gouda and Roasted Tomatoes
In the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with a dough hook attachment, add the flour, yeast, sugar and garlic salt. Mix until combined.
In a microwave safe bowl add the beer. Microwave on high for 20 seconds, test temperature with a cooking thermometer and repeat until temperature reaches between 120 and 125 degrees Fahrenheit.
Add the beer to the stand mixer and mix on medium speed until most of the flour has been moistened.
Turn speed to high and beat until dough is smooth and elastic, about 8 minutes.
Transfer dough to a lightly oiled bowl, tightly wrap with plastic wrap. Allow to sit in a warm room until doubled in size, about 45 to 60 minutes (while the dough rises, start the onions).
Remove from bowl and add to a lightly floured surface. Knead several times, cut into 6 equal sized pieces.
One at a time form the dough into 6 inch circles. Place on a baking sheet that has been covered with parchment paper.
While the dough is rising, make the onions. In a saucepan or Dutch oven melt the butter with the olive oil over medium heat. Add the onions with a pinch of salt and sugar, cook until softened, about 10 minutes. Add beer and cook, stirring occasionally, until the beer has mostly evaporated and turned to a glaze about 20 minutes. Make sure to keep the heat low or the onions will burn before they caramelize.
Preheat the oven to 400.
Add the tomatoes to a small bowl. Toss with olive oil, salt and pepper, set aside.
Top the 6 flatbreads with slices of Gouda, then add about ¼ cup of caramelized onions, then tomatoes.
Brush exposed crust with olive oil.
Bake at 400 for 12-15 minutes or until crust has turned golden brown.
There is one thing I can’t stop doing every time I travel.
And not just when I get to leave the country, but even when I just leave the state. I just need to wander around a market. A locals only place, stocked with whatever people who live in the neighboring streets like to eat. Once while in Costa Rica, in a small and run down town, I found myself in a small market that had just lost all power.
"It happens," the shop owner told me, "We just stay open, hope the light from the door can reach to the back." I made a mental note not to buy any thing perishable, but did leave with 3 bags of coffee and an unidentifiably spice that I later used on roasted vegetables.
Sometimes these little adventures just bring me back to an ingredient that I forgot that I loved. My recent trip to a local market in a neighborhood heavily populated with Italian imigrants lead me to buy a bag of farro. I love this little grain, much more than rice, much more than quinoa and I can’t understand why it isn’t used more often. It doesn’t get mushy the way that rice can, it has a nice almost chewy texture, tons of those vitamins/protein/ health benefits that people seem to like, and much more flavor than other trendy grains.
Plus it cooks up really well with beer. Which means it wins.
Servings 4entre sized portions, 8 side dish portions
Ingredients
For the Risotto:
2cups15 wt oz faro
6cupslow sodium chickenor vegetable broth
3tbsolive oil
½white onionchopped
3clovesgarlicminced
3tbsunsalted butterdivided
1cupplus ¼ cup brown ale, divided
¼cupheavy cream
2wt ozabout ¾ cup fresh grated parmesan cheese
For the Mushrooms:
8wt oz assorted wild mushrooms
3tbsolive oil
½tspsea salt
1/2tsppepper
Instructions
Add farro to a large bowl. Cover with luke warm water, let stand for 30 minutes to 1 hour. Drain well.
Preheat oven to 425. Line a baking sheet with aluminum foil. Add the mushrooms, drizzle with olive oil, salt and pepper. Toss until well coated. Roast for 15 minutes, stir and roast for an additional ten minutes. Drain the liquid off the mushrooms, set mushrooms aside.
Place the chicken broth in a saucepan and bring to a low simmer, keeping to warm, but not boiling.
In a separate pot, heat the 3 tbs olive oil over medium heat. Add the onions and cook until softened, but don’t allow to brown. Add the garlic and cook until you can smell it, about 20 seconds
Stir in the faro and 3 tablespoons butter, cooking until the farro is completely coated with butter and it smells slightly nutty, don’t allow to brown. About 2 minutes.
Add 1 cup of the brown ale and cook until the pan begins to dry, stirring frequently. About 6 minutes.
Add about ½ cup of broth into the farro. Stir frequently until the farro is almost dry, and then add another ½ cup and repeat until the farro is cooked. This process should take about 30 minutes. Don’t leave the risotto while it’s cooking, the farro on the bottom of the pan burns easily. (if you run out of broth, just use hot water the same way you would broth)
Once your risotto is cooked through (taste it to verify that the farro is cooked and not crunchy), turn heat to low and add the cheese, cream, remaining 3 tablespoons butter and ¼ cup brown ale and salt and pepper to taste. Stir in the roasted mushrooms just prior to serving.