A Migration Celebration With Marination

 

Hi folks, I'm your host, Chef G., and I'm happier than a pelican with a dozen perch in his pouch.  The reason for my pelican joy is that I'm about to share another very special recipe right here on my amazingly successful cooking show--The Chef G. Cooking Channel.

Would you like to know how successful the show is?  It's SO successful that we are now airing our 74th episode.  That's one more than the beloved show "Game of Thrones."  I've never seen a single minute of that show, but I do know it was wildly popular.  It wasn't popular enough, though, to get past the 73-episode mark.  Tough luck.

Anyway, my ratings are better than ever, thanks in particular to my food poisoning episode.  That one pulled in over a hundred viewers, which is a number that Chef Gordo Ramses and all my other celebrity chef competitors can only dream about.

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I'd like to go back to the subject of happy pelicans for a minute.  I was out riding my bike along the Mississippi River yesterday and I saw many of those big white birds gleefully soaring all over the sky.  Ah yes, that reminded me the fall migration season is in full force.  

Next, I passed an island just offshore.  It was filled with thousands of birds representing several different species.  I was so impressed with the scene that I filmed and narrated a couple of 90-second videos.  They have nothing to do with cooking, but I hope you watch them anyway.

Okay, I admit the first video wasn't all that exciting.  The real action takes place in the next video.  Check it out.

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If you watched the videos, you're probably thinking the main dish for today's episode will be grilled pelican or grilled seagull.  I'm happy to say you'd be wrong.  

Today's show will be all about grilled pork chops.  I know, I know, ANYBODY can grill pork chops.  But the real star of the show is what separates MY pork chops from the pork chops grilled by the average backyard chef.  That would be the delicious marinade I concocted for maximum flavor enhancement.  

The marinade idea came from a comment I received on my last post.  It got me to thinking--have I ever marinated anything in the past 73 episodes?  If so, it didn't immediately come to mind.  Therefore, to celebrate migration season, here we go with my latest creation: 

HONEY-SOY-GINGER MARINATED PORK CHOPS a la CHEF G 

With a title like that, the first step HAD to be the preparation of the marinade.  It's a Chef G. original.  I could make a lot of money by charging a fee for the recipe, but I'm going to provide it to my loyal fans for free.  So, all I can add is that it will be worth your time to pay close attention. 

I'm a hands-on chef, so I put the ginger and garlic in my hand before mincing up a half-tablespoon of each.

These are the liquids I used.  One tablespoon of red wine vinegar, 1/4 cup of honey, 1/4 cup of full-sodium soy sauce, and 3 tablespoons of olive oil.

Hands-on display of a pinch of black pepper and a pinch of red chili pepper flakes.

Put all the ingredients into a bowl and whisk the hell out of the mixture.

I gotta tell ya, my marinade looked good enough to drink right out of the bowl.  Good thing I had enough self-restraint to save it for the next important step.

I put a couple of pork chops into a zip-lock baggie and added the marinade.  I soaked the pig meat in the marinade for two hours.  The pork chop in the other baggie is for Mrs. Chef G.  She is a fine gal in so many ways, but her food tastes are rather bland.

After the two hours of marination, I transferred the meat to my charcoal grill.  Immediately, the hot coals got to a-sizzling my tasty pork chops.  It smelled so good.  Yet, I felt sorry for Mrs. Chef G's portion.  I mean, it looked sickly and pale.

Well, if that's how she likes it, that's how she likes it.  Who am I to contradict her?

In the end, Mrs. Chef G. enjoyed her plain pork chop, and I absolutely LOVED my enhanced pork chops.  Like a wolf, I gnawed the meat right down to the bone after taking this picture.

My dog, Arlo, took one look at my pork chop and also wanted to gnaw it to the bone.  I restrained him, but I must admit I gave him a couple of small pieces.

That concludes Episode #74 of The Chef G. Cooking Channel.  Episode #75 is next, and it seems worthy of an extra special dish for an extra special occasion.  A 75th celebration is often called a "diamond jubilee."  I'm open to food suggestions for the big event.  Thank you.

Fishy Chef Grills Fish

Hi folks, Chef G. here with a new post, and that makes me happier than a brook trout snapping its jaws onto a big, juicy Mayfly.  The fish simile seems appropriate today because I actually am going to be cooking fish.

I should warn you not to get your hopes too high.  I will be stretching my amazing celebrity chef skills to the limit.  This will be the first time I've ever worked with a fish called "red snapper."  Making it even more of a challenge is that it will be the first time I've ever charcoal grilled ANY kind of fish other than salmon and tuna.

Many things could go wrong. I know that.  Salmon and tuna are relatively easy to grill due to their rich, fatty flesh.  Fish with white meat, on the other hand, requires extra care and precision to avoid a complete disaster.  Undercooked red snapper could be slimy and yucky at best, and, at worst, might give me a case of food poisoning that would make the one I had last month look like a toilet seat joy ride.  

Overcooked red snapper could be worse yet.  The disappointment I'd feel with dry, rubbery, flavorless fish would be almost overwhelming.  

Wish me luck.

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I purchased my red snapper at a local Coburn's Grocery store.  I liked that the seafood case had it displayed on ice with a little sign stating it was "fresh" and "wild caught" and "not previously frozen."  

Okay, I live in the Midwest--more than a thousand miles from the nearest ocean--so I had a reasonable skepticism about the actual freshness of the fish.  I gave them the benefit of the doubt though and bought it anyway.  Who knows?  Maybe they had it flown in from the gulf coast this morning.  (I didn't ask about that because I wasn't sure I really wanted to know the truth.) 

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The first step in preparation is to get the coals fired up.  Crumpled up newspapers in a charcoal chimney eliminates the need for a stinky petroleum-based charcoal starter.  I've been using the chimney for a couple years now.  You'd think a famous chef like me would have learned about such a thing long before I did, but no, I squirted what amounts to paint thinner on my coals for almost 30 years.

Plus, the chimney ensures charcoal heating efficiency.

The second step was to bring the Red Snapper filets to room temperature.  That only takes about 15 minutes.

The third step was to season the filets.  In my case, it's a thumbs-up blend of salt, pepper, garlic powder, paprika, and more salt.  Feel free to use whatever herbs and spices you want though.  That's the way it should be.

The fourth step was to give the Red Snapper filets a nice extra virgin olive oil shower.

The fifth step is to pour the coals from the chimney to the grate.  I'm grateful they look great on the grate.

The sixth step is to place the filets skin-side-down on the grate.

Regarding that last step, I recommend putting the fish NEAR the source of heat, but not directly over the coals.  I don't know why I recommend that.  I guess my chefly instincts told me it seemed right.

  

Then I put the lid on the grill and let the red snapper filets cook for about three more minutes.

The seventh step was to remove the lid and flip the filets to skin-side-up for another three minutes.

During that final three-minute interim, I poured a delicious glass of Duluth, Minnesota beer.  To hell with a wine pairing.  I like to think of myself as a child of chaos, so I thought the Ursa would be a perfect pairing with my rather chaotic fish dish.

After a swig of the Double Hazy IPA, I went back to the grill and used a spatula to transfer the fish to a plate.

Then I made a video of my official Chef G. taste test.  Like every single celebrity chef on earth, I proclaimed its deliciousness.  You can watch my video here.

Despite my praise, I have to admit my red snapper wasn't all that flavorful.  I blame the grocery store, not my grilling expertise.  The excellence of my cooking is well established, the grocery store's "freshness" claims are not.  Thank you for tuning in to The Chef G. Cooking Channel.

 

CHEF G.'S BIG TIME COMEBACK: Russian Cuisine For The Common Man

Hi folks, Chef G. here, and let me tell you I'm happier than a rattlesnake with a mouthful of field mice to be back with a new episode of The Chef G. Cooking Channel.  

Speaking of snakes, I should probably thank the reptillian Chef Gordo Ramses for filling in for me last week while I was recovering from food poisoning.  True, I SHOULD thank him, but I WON'T.  Far from thanking him, I CURSE him for telling the whole world about every embarrassing detail of my bout with stomach cramps, fever, barfing, and diarrhea.  And when I find out which one of my staffers leaked all that information to Chef Gordo, he or she will be given a scolding and a 10% cut in pay.

Anyway, I survived the ordeal and I'm ready to get back to my job.  It's the work for which I was put on this earth by the heavenly food gods.  (Um, that would be creating and cooking exquisite food recipes.)  

Today, I'll be sharing a dish I dug up from a secret vault hidden deep in the castle of the Stroganov family of Russian oligarchs.

I conducted a little research on that family and I learned I have a few things in common with them: 

• They became super rich in Tsarist Russia because they built a salt manufacturing empire.  In much the same way, I became super rich because I built a food blogging empire.
•  Given that the Stroganovs invested in the salt industry, it's obvious they liked the stuff.  I, too, really, really, really like salt.  It's easily my favorite spice.
•  The Stroganovs were patrons of the arts and fine foods.  I like art too.  And I like food. 
•  The Stroganovs have a famous dish named after them.  Likewise, I've named many of my dishes after myself.

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From Left to Right: Chef Rasputin G. and Count Boris Stroganov

According to Russian lore, the family's French chef created a dish with noodles, beef, onions, garlic, mushrooms, butter and creme fraiche, and he named it after the Stroganov family.  Unlike the Stroganov's, I don't have a French chef on staff.  I have French heritage though, so you know that I know what I'm doing.   My version of beef stroganoff has some of my own variations. I call this dish "Boeff Stro-G-Noff."

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It begins with the slicing and dicing of garlic and onions.

It continues with melting butter in a skillet.  When the butter is sizzling, throw the onions and garlic into the pan and stir frequently.  Oh man, that frying is the best smell in the world.  (For extra richness, add sliced mushrooms to the onions and garlic.  I didn't do that today because I was cooking for a couple of nieces who detest mushrooms.)

When the onions become translucent, remove the mixture from the pan and set aside.

Then put 1-1/2 pounds of lean ground beef into the same pan.  Break up the meat into small chunks, but not too small.  When most of the meat's redness is gone, add one cup of beef broth.  Add a healthy amount of salt--Stroganov salt if you can find it--and a tablespoon of soy sauce.  (I use soy sauce because I hate Worcestershire Sauce.)  Heat to boiling, reduce heat, and then simmer for 15 minutes.

Here is what the beef will look like when you move on to the next step.

Measure out a half-cup of flour.  Also, start boiling some water to cook up a batch of egg noodles.

Whisk the flour into another cup of beef broth.  When thoroughly mixed, add it to the ground beef.  Then grab the onion, garlic, butter mix that you had set aside and add it to the beef as well.  Bring it to a boil and stir constantly for one minute.

Stir in 12 oz. of sour cream.  The sour cream will produce creamy creaminess.  Ooooh, that creaminess is sublimely creamy . . . and tasty.

To serve, scoop the creamy creaminess over the egg noodles.  The flavor of this dish will make you wish you were a Russian.  On the other hand, there is Putin. 

 

CHEF G. GETS FOOD POISONING (By Chef Gordo Ramses)

Hi folks!  Today's episode of The Chef G. Cooking Channel will be presented by me, Chef Gordo Ramses.  As you may remember, I'm Chef G.'s arch-rival in the world of celebrity chefs.  Ironic that his enemy is now his replacement, isn't it?

If you think THAT'S ironic, try THIS on for size:  The reason I'm here is that the so-called "America's Greatest Celebrity Chef" got a nice little case of food poisoning and--get this--it probably came from his own miserable cooking.  As soon as I heard the news, I jumped at the opportunity to be a substitute host and give a full report on his gastro-intestinal ordeal.  

Excuse me if I sound like I'm gloating, but, well, how can I help but gloat?  This may be a disaster for him, but it's a godsend for me.  Plus, nobody deserves such a malady more than the obnoxious Chef G.

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(Parental Advisory: The Following Report Contains Subject Matter That May Be Considered Too Graphic for Younger Viewers)

DAY ONE: Friday

Chef G.'s ordeal began soon after he and Mrs. Chef G. got home from a dinner date at a popular nationwide chain restaurant.  The first symptom to reveal itself was large volumes of very foul-smelling gas.  (Not much of a problem, since, based on my experience, that clown always smells bad.)  The gaseousness was followed closely by mild stomach discomfort and a general feeling of weakness & tiredness.  As a result, he went to bed early that night.

That brings us to the really fun stuff.  In the middle of the night, Chef G. woke up with pain in his gut and an urgent need to visit the loo.  In case you didn't know, "loo" is the British term for what you Americans call the "bathroom," though I assure you, his urgent need wasn't to take a bath.

The hapless bastard barely made it to the throne before a gusher of semi-solid fecal matter burst out of his intestinal tract in a most violent way.  Little did he know that the semi-solid stool he produced would be the last one with any semblance of solidity at all for the next four days.  Thus began his special new relationship with his toilet.  (Are you folks getting as much glee out of this as I am?)

Chef G.'s constant companion for nearly a week.

DAY TWO: Saturday

After an hour of fitful sleep, a feverish sweat broke out on Chef G.'s face, head and neck.  He was so tired.  All he wanted to do was lie there in the broth that was seeping out of his pores and go back to sleep.  Unfortunately for him, another emergency colorectal event was about to happen.

He sprang from his bed and, again, barely made it to the porcelain bowl before the poop shot out of his rear with a blistering vengeance.  Only this time the dookie had the same viscosity as urine after a long night of beer drinking.  About the same volume too.  This scene repeated itself every one or two hours throughout the night.  Except for the one time when he didn't quite make it to the doo-doo depository in time.  Ho ho, that must have been quite a sight to see the mighty Chef G. changing out of his soiled boxers like a little toddler. 

Later in the morning, Mrs. Chef G. added to his indignity when she went out and bought him a package of Depends.  (Disposable briefs for adults with incontinence.)  The Depends did make him feel a little more secure though, having learned that the diarrhea was pretty much impossible to hold in once it got to a certain point.  In addition, he found they were fairly comfortable and felt nice against his skin.

Chef G. did a little on-line research.  He learned there were several different kinds of germs and bacteria that cause food poisoning, and almost all of them usually go away in 5 to 7 days with no doctor visits, drugs, or antibiotics.  The most important thing is to hydrate frequently, which the dorky chef was already doing.

Of course, he didn't eat anything because he had no appetite whatsoever.  To the rescue came Mrs. Chef G. . . . again.  She convinced her husband, The Cuckoo of Cooking, to try a little chicken broth for some sustenance.  The soup went down his gullet so soothingly.  Within ten seconds, Chef G. was stumbling back to the lavatory.  The soup came back up his gullet so abrasively.

There were all kinds of other things mixed in the vomit as well.  As much as I'd like to humiliate my enemy as much as possible, I'm not going to describe the intensity or contents of his puke.  Doing so would probably make me barf myself.

And the liquid crap continued to flow throughout the day & night, almost hourly.

DAY THREE: Sunday

Chef G. was feeling a little better this morning.  Sure, the liquid-y shits were still there, but the fever and dizziness were gone.  In fact, he felt well enough that he took a chance on taking his daughter, Kaylo Chef, to the airport.  The trip would have been very easy if he could have simply dropped her off at the terminal and driven straight back home, but he knew he had to go inside to help her straighten out a ticketing SNAFU.

Before he could deal with a Delta Airlines ticketing agent, however, he wisely made a stop at the men's room and ducked into a stall.  Of course, the second he pulled down his Depends, the stream of watery fecal matter hit the toilet water with the same sound you hear when a man takes a whizz.  Except that he was sitting.  And anybody who was nearby probably thought there was a woman peeing in the stall.  

DAY FOUR: Monday 

Chef G.'s personal waste materials never thickened one iota--not yesterday, not during the night, and not this morning.  And the frequency of dumping it never abated, resulting in another very poor night of sleep and an increasingly sore rectal area from all the wiping.

Mrs. Chef G. intervened once again.  The Shitting Chef G. tried to tell her about how Google said the food poisoning would likely go away without medical attention, but she insisted he go to Urgent Care to diagnose exactly what the hell was invading his bowels--bowels that normally seem to have a steely armor against whatever nasty, dirty, unhealthy, spicy, over-processed, under-cooked, garbage he crams down there.

As expected, the urgent care doctor gave him an examination and confirmed the entire checklist of what Google said about food poisoning.  Just when Chef G. thought he was about to get released, the doc added, "but just in case, let's just get a stool sample."

Chef G. wasn't too pleased about providing a sample, but he knew he could pretty much do so on demand.  So, he dutifully went to the bathroom, put on a pair of latex gloves, squirted out a sample into a large plastic container, poured the liquid into a sample cup marked "hazardous waste", screwed a lid on the cup, and deposited it into a metal box.  From there, some poor lab technician would gather it up for testing.

And the diarrhea continued . . . 

DAY FIVE:  Tuesday

The crapper visits were far less frequent last night. The runniness was still there, but Chef G. had gotten better at predicting when they were coming.  He felt pretty good about himself for transitioning back to big boy underwear.

Around noon, he got a phone call from the lab.  The results were in: Chef G.'s bug was a thing called "campylobacter jejuni." 

Can you imagine these things being in your intestines?  Gross!

 

Chef G. was sure it would be something more glamorous--like salmonella, e-coli, botulism, or listeria--but, unlike a lot of people these days, he was willing to accept actual medical science.  He learned campylobacter is the #1 food-borne bacteria in the world, so he felt not-so-alone.

The thing I take the most pleasure in, as Chef G.'s celebrity chef nemesis, is that he most likely brought this upon himself.  He was so ready to blame the fish he ate at the restaurant on Friday night, but it turns out campylobacter takes a couple days to kick in.  And campylobacter is most commonly the result of consuming raw or poorly cooked chicken . . . or poor kitchen habits--like not washing knives and cutting boards after cutting or chopping chicken.

Guess what Chef G. prepared two days before the onset of his food poisoning.  Yup, fried rice with chicken.

This revelation will set Chef G.'s rise to celebrity chef prominence back several years.  I don't know how he can come back from this culinary disaster.  Better than that, it will propel ME--Chef Gordo Ramses--back to the #1 position I so richly deserve.

DAY SIX: Wednesday

Chef G. proudly took his first solid dump this morning.  Later in the day, he prepared his first full meal in nearly a week.  In celebration, he made his signature dish--PASTIES.

Damn, I gotta admit, nobody can make pasties like Chef G.  And I oughtta know, I'm from England.