Another Day, Another Way Pork Tenderloin
Since it's summer and it's BBQ season and I missed the kid like crazy, I decided to reinvent my son's Cuban pork dish for the grill. It was EPIC!
3 pork tenderloins, trimmed of visible fat
8 cloves garlic
2 tsp. dried oregano
salt and freshly ground pepper, to taste
2 bay leaves, crushed
1/4 c. fresh grapefruit juice (can also add a little lime juice if you like)
1/4 c. fresh orange juice
1 c. red wine
A few tablespoons of olive oil
1 tsp. grated orange zest
In a mortar, combine the garlic gloves, 1 tsp. oregano, and 1 tsp. salt and mash into a paste. Rub the garlic paste all over the pork tenderloins, and place into a large non-reactive container. Season liberally with pepper, and sprinkle the crushed bay leaves on top. Combine grapefruit juice, orange juice, and the red wine, then pour the combined liquids over the pork. Cover and refrigerate for at least two hours, turning several times.
Combine remaining 1 tsp. oregano, 1 tsp. salt, 1 tsp. freshly ground pepper and the orange zest in a small bowl. Remove pork tenderloins from the marinade, and pat dry. Coat lightly with the olive oil. Sprinkle liberally all over with the oregano mixture, pressing to make sure the spice mixture adheres to the pork. Cover with plastic wrap and set aside while you heat the grill.
Heat your grill to about 350. Place pork on the grill, then cover and cook for 4-5 minutes. Turn tenderloins over, and cook for another 4-5 minutes on another side. Turn again, and cook for another 4-5 minutes. This should take about 12-15 minutes total.
Remove to a rimmed baking dish and allow to rest for 10 minutes. Pork will continue to cook, and will release some juices into the pan. Slice and serve, drizzling pan juices over. Delicious with Israeli cous-cous salad and fresh corn.
* To be fair, it took my son three days to go from these texts:
"Thank u for sending me to a camp where can't really make friends cause I can't relate to anybody. Thank u for sending me to a camp where my counselor is a girl who talks like a stereotypical valley girl and works in the fashion industry. Really, thank u, this is exactly what I wanted to do with my summer. I honestly can't think of anywhere else i would rather b. Also, thanks for sending me to a camp without wi fi. Ur the best mom, have a nice time without me in san francisco."
"i wanna be home. this sucks."
to these texts:
"Today was MUCH BETTER! I hung out with these other guys and it was okay."
"hahahahahahaha went to the counter without you!"
And ten days to get to this report, when he got home last night:
"I actually really enjoyed it. Thanks for sending me."
For the first time in living memory, thanks to overlapping sleep-away summer camps, we have a kidless house.
It's been liberating and thrilling and romantic. We snuck away for an overnight date. Took long walks and lingered over dinners in restaurants our kids would have hated. There may have even been some mortifying pda involved, since it turns out that I have a very cute and cuddly husband.
It's also incredibly unsettling. I'm vague and aimless and foggy. I'm forgetting things* and driving in circles. Losing sleep and making busy work. This time around, I'm at such a loss that I can't even bake.
I feel exposed.
Like part of me is walking around here with nothing on, while the rest of myself is out there in the world, going it alone and unprotected. Both parts are vulnerable and nervous, scared and excited, brave and capable, but nonetheless out there. Apart.
Completely, terrifyingly, exposed.
I know this is what parenting is. And what growing up is. Me letting go. Them leaving the nest**.
But I'd still rather expose a couple of pounds of potatoes to a hot oven, and have the whole family sit down together, at home, and eat them. So I'll be making these as soon as the kids get back.
Mustard and Garlic Roasted Potatoes
The trick to great roasted potatoes is to maximize the surface area that gets exposed to heat. That means both cutting the potatoes into good shapes, and giving them enough room in the pan. This simple strategy will pay off, big time, no matter what you choose to do in terms of flavoring. Feel free to try different herbs, melted butter instead of olive oil, different salts, etc. The mixture below is one of our favorites, as the mustard gives the potatoes a nice little kick to go with the garlic and smoked salt.
2 lbs. small Yukon gold potatoes
1/2 c. olive oil
2 Tbs. Dijon mustard
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 tsp. smoked salt, if you have it, kosher salt if you don't
Freshly ground black pepper
Preheat oven to 400. Wash and scrub the potatoes, but leave the skin on. Cut into quarters, or even smaller wedges if some potatoes are larger than others. Basically, try to have uniformly sized pieces, with a lot of sides exposed.
In a mixing bowl, whisk together the olive oil, mustard, garlic, salt and a generous grating of pepper.
Stir in the potatoes, until completely coated.
Turn into a large roasting pan, much bigger than you think you need. Spread the potatoes out, so they have lots of room.
Roast for 35-40 minutes, without disturbing them, until they are deeply golden brown, salty and crispy on the outside, and melt in your mouth soft on the inside. Serve immediately!
* My camera, under a museum bench. And one of my online passwords. The password was recovered. The camera was not.
** Nest photos courtesy of my sister. She and my niece found this robin's nest in a flowerpot on their porch. But in their case, the mommy bird was there helping her kids learn how to fly.
A quick note before the post: The events depicted here occurred almost two weeks ago. However, I have been going through my now-standard but nonetheless still utterly debilitating freak out over my children leaving me for summer programs and camps. It is only after receiving a glimmer of hopeful communication from my first-born, stranded 3000 miles from home, that I was able to rally enough to get this critical information out at last.
OK. I'll have the cheeseburger.
We were visiting the nation's capital, and everyone knows the way to judge a town is not by the number of shining white marble buildings or world class museums it has, or its famed and gorgeous cherry blossoms, its suitability as a setting for marches and moving speeches, or its silent and moving memorials to tragic times in history. Even the fact that the leader of the free world happens to reside there should not color your thinking.
The true measure of a town is its burgers.
That's why LA rules, by the way. We have long history of great, great, burgers here*, and we can get In-N-Out anytime we want**.
Could the capital possibly compete? We did our best to find out.
The first stroke of luck was finding an outpost of New York's cult burger joint, Shake Shack, smack in the middle of Dupont Circle.*** I excitedly posted pics of the exterior signage to facebook as we stood in line, ready to taste the burger that de-throned the double double.
Initial signs were positive. The place was great looking. There was a line out the door, but it moved quickly. The staff was friendly and very patient with the starry-eyed Californians who crowded up to the counter, cameras in hand, when it was our turn to order****.
When the (adorable! real cookie sheets! cool logo parchment paper!) trays arrived, overflowing with food, the anticipation of burger nirvana had almost reached a fever pitch. We put aside our dismay at seeing the crinkle cut fries***** and focused on the gorgeous burger specimens in front of us. The lettuce was green and leafy! The tomatoes were red and ripe! The onion was crisp and crunchy! The bun was warm and golden! The cheese was all melty and gooey! The patties were thick and well browned and nubby! Oh, baby!
Oh! Oh. Um. Er. What the...? This burger was a total poser! Underneath those magazine cover looks was a pile of flavorless, unseasoned meat, oozing equally flavorless meat juice. Couldn't taste the toppings. Couldn't taste the cheese, or the sauce, or anything but hot, bland (admittedly freshly ground, moist and well-cooked) beef. Really? I am fraught with disappointment. Now I have to eat the stupid crinkle fries.
Everyone at the table agrees. No need to come back to the Shack. Strike one.
Next up? A true pretender to the In-N-Out throne: Five Guys Burgers and Fries, founded originally in Virginia, but now spreading like wildfire across the country. There's even one back home in Culver City now, but we felt it was only fair to judge the hometown outpost.
The first thing you notice about the place is the bags of potatoes piled up when you walk in. There's even a sign telling you what farm they came from. Nothing crinkle cut about these fries, thank you very much! Score one for the guys. Especially since the guys making the fries also seem to have access to salt and pepper shakers. Are some of the fries a little soggy, a little greasy? Yeah. But they're a big step up in freshness, so we're OK with that.
The second thing you notice is that you can put A LOT of stuff on your burger, for no extra charge. Jalapenos. Bacon. Grilled mushrooms. Grilled onions. This sounds awesome to us! We build away. We retreat to a table and mull over why there would be barrel of peanuts around the corner from the bags of potatoes. Ingredients as decor? Free bacon and free peanuts? Very strange, but this could be the secret to their surging popularity.
It certainly can't be the actual burgers. Maybe they were good in the kitchen, but every burger is wrapped in paper, and then foil, so it's effectively steaming itself soggy on the way to the counter. Then, even if you are eating in, it goes into a paper bag. The bun arrives deflated, the army of toppings are all a bit flat and colorless, and the meat itself is boring.
But there is free bacon, so some people are OK with that.
Sigh. Guess we'll stick to the fries. Good bye, Five Guys!
Was there no hope of getting a great burger in DC? A change from these less-than-satisfying lunches? A burger we could believe in?
Hope. Change. A burger we could believe in?
That sounds familiar. Let's ask Barack.
Mr. President! Mr. President! Where should we go for a burger in this town?
The vanilla shake here kicked some Shake Shack butt! Creamy, rich, and homemade...
Now these are french fries! Crispy on the outside (hear that, Five Guys!), generously salted, and piping hot. But the burger was so good I barely had room to eat them.
The Au Poivre burger, peppercorn encrusted, with swiss cheese. All the burgers are 10 oz. of prime filet, the toppings not only look great, but they're hand cut, utterly fresh, and taste terrific.
And the burger itself was one of the best I've ever had it my life. The meat was freshly ground, rich, full of great beefy flavor, charred on the outside, done to perfection on the inside, and as juicy as can be. In the best sense of the word.
Next time I go to DC, I'll still have the cheeseburger. But only at Ray's. It's a one burger town.
* Additional reading on this important topic: 30 Burgers in 30 Days - LA Weekly eats through LA's burger scene, a day a a time. Burger City - The history of the burger's roots in LA. Did you know that the cheeseburger was invented in Pasadena in 1922? Gourmet Burger Battle - An intrepid blogger visits some of the best in town.
The Foodie Girls - Episode 6, Episode 9 and Episode 19
** Unlike these previously deprived people in Texas:
*** OK, my sister looked it up the night before, we made an extra metro stop, then walked about 8 blocks using a cell phone as a gps. Then we happened to run into it.
**** For example, asking "Do the T-shirts shrink much?" and "How can you be out of the Fair Trade Shake? It's not even a special, and you have a logo for it and everything. What's up with that?" before paying and going to find a table. *****I have yet to have a great crinkle cut fry. Whatever machine makes them crinkled must also automatically erase every shred of real potato flavor out of the fry, so it's hopeless from the start. But I digress. Hence, this universal truth is being placed in a footnote.
****** He speaks with his feet (or his motorcade). Not only has he treated the press corp and Joe Biden, he took the Russian president here for lunch, too.
Can you find the peaches in this picture? Of course not!
Because they're down here.
A bushel's worth of peaches. Half-eaten, on the ground. When I looked out of the window this afternoon, there was a full buffet line of the little bushy-tailed varmints clustered about the bounty on the lawn, sitting up on their hind legs, peaches between their cunning paws, chomping away and having a good old time.
Clean as a whistle.
When I went to investigate*, I discovered this peach pit, placed in clear view on a planter ledge.
...then another, poised neatly on the arm of a comfortable chair.
Peach pit as side table decor.
Beautifully balanced on the back of the couch.
Slyly dropped behind the cushions.
Maximum human discomfort. Maximum squirrel amusement.
Sure enough, there he was.
Lounging. On my FENCE!! I mean, just look at that foot position, people. Not an ounce of respect!
Yeah, you better run.
I'll get you next year, buddy. Bet on it! Grrrrr!!!
* Should read, "shake my fist and yell impotently at the bushy tails disappearing into the distance,"
We're in DC on vacation this week, sightseeing and sweating a lot*, but mostly visiting my sister.
My sister, aka FG4.
Love that this runs in the family!
Fresh off a tour of the Capital, we walk a few short blocks to Eastern Market, a 136 year old continuously operating public market. FG4 had unearthed this place in her pre-visit research. She done good.
After a severe fire in 2007, the market's been restored and is now populated by a handful of gourmet food vendors, including a butcher with an incredible array of artisan sausages and prime beef, a fresh pasta stall with about 10 different flavors of hand-formed ravioli and fresh sauces, a woman selling fruit and flowers, another with rows of cheeses, cured meats, and chocolate...the list goes on.
It has none of the foodie elites of the Ferry Building or the toursits of Faneuil Hall. Instead, it feels just like a great neighborhood gathering place for people who like to eat well.
Our objective, however, was not fixin's for cooking dinner. It's VACATION, for heaven's sake. No, we were headed to the one place in the market that serves hot lunch. Suitably named: The Market Lunch. Due to an unfortunate encounter with a wharf full of live crabs and mediocre dinner yesterday, the kids recoiled instantly at the thought of anything from the ocean coming within shouting distance of their plates, so they headed across the street for burgers while we lucky two lined up to place our order.
Famous for their breakfasts (fried green tomatoes, blueberry buckwheat pancakes, and crab cake benedict) that reputedly draw lines out the doors on Saturdays, they are nearly as well known for their lunch menu.
Upon finding out we are newbies, the chipper guy at the cash register (later identified online as Tom, the owner), advises trying the crab cakes and the soft shell crab. My sister orders the cod sandwich. He's slightly offended, until I step up and order the crab/crab cake combo. "That's a lot of food," he says. We know. We don't care. We live 3000 miles away from each other, and this is a special occasion**. Throwing in two sweet tea/lemonades and a Diet Coke, we move down to wait at the pick up window.
Everybody here is loud. When she hands you the red tray, it comes with a brassy, "You want tartar sauce or hot sauce with that?"
The glorious $7 fish sandwich!
With which we DO want tartar sauce. Homemade, creamy, tangy, and fantastic.
The cod was melt-in-your mouth delicious. So fresh that it was practically still swimming, flaky but substantial enough to taste each piece of mild, creamy fish within the crispy, well-seasoned batter. The bread was yeasty and just chewy enough to contain the ingredients and make each bite better than the last. This dish was our favorite.It was also a total steal, price wise.
Oh my goodness! This plate of food is testament to how well the fryer works at The Market Lunch. Not cheap at $20, but the quality of the ingredients is amazing. The soft shell crab, in the foreground, was just barely dusted with cornmeal, crunchy on the outside and sweet and briny inside. A great example of why people wait for these to come into season every year. And the fries? Seriously decadent. Skin on, hand-cut, cooked to perfection. Wow!
The true test was, of course, the crab cake. This one was very, very good. Full of sweet lump Dungeness crab, still in chunks, and laced with bay seasoning and perhaps a hint of curry. One of the best I've had that I didn't make myself. Particularly when paired with their "pink sauce": hot sauce mixed with mayo and lemon juice. Mmm, mmm!
The happy sisters, after the feast!
Lest you worry that all we did was eat, here are a few of my other favorite sights from these past few days in the nation's capital.
Giant panda, on the move
Our old house
Public transportation! What a concept...
Decoding a message during our undercover spy mission
Quack!
Touching a piece of the moon
Lending support
Although it has stood on its own for quite a while
Breathtaking
Seeing the monuments at night is stunning. Plus its much, much cooler out, and the crowds have died down. Highly recommended!
Freedom, looking a bit shell-shocked by the number of 8th graders thronging the visitor's lobby at the Capital
On the steps of the Supreme Court, making a mockery of things
Sunset over the Potomac
* The weather here is truly awful. I love LA.
** This was such a special occasion that we also had a lot of dessert its honor:
Pecan Brown Sugar Brownie, Apricot Crumb Bar, and Oatmeal Sandwich Cookies, also from Baked &Wired. We did try their cupcakes, but their brownies are what we'd go back for.
The assortment at the good, but not worth waiting more than 5 minutes for, Georgetown Cupcakes
Combine remaining 1 tsp. oregano, 1 tsp. salt, 1 tsp. freshly ground pepper and the orange zest in a small bowl. Remove pork tenderloins from the marinade, and pat dry. Coat lightly with the olive oil. Sprinkle liberally all over with the oregano mixture, pressing to make sure the spice mixture adheres to the pork. Cover with plastic wrap and set aside while you heat the grill.
Remove to a rimmed baking dish and allow to rest for 10 minutes. Pork will continue to cook, and will release some juices into the pan. Slice and serve, drizzling pan juices over. Delicious with Israeli cous-cous salad and fresh corn. 
