Cree LeFavour

I'm enough of a snob not to own a pressure cooker and, as much as I'd like to, I'm too cheap to buy expensive, tempting gadgets like this sous vide calculator from Williams-Sonoma. Maybe that's why I love Melissa Clark's steak recipe/video that made the rounds about ten days ago via The New York Times. In it, Nathan Myhrvold of Modernist Cusine fame, demonstrates a brilliant technique for cooking a biig, thick steak.

First, freeze the steak for 20 minutes or so. Next brown the exterior to get the flavor that the famous Maillard reaction produces. (Read: yummy crusty browned bits.) You can use a blow-torch (fun!) or a plain old cast-iron pan. Next, take your still semi-frozen steak and put it in what is basically a warming oven (he recommends 200 F. or as low as your oven will go). The magic? After about an hour you end up with the pretties, most perfectly rare, evenly cooked steak you can imagine.

If I could, I would go back and rewrite the instructions for cooking all the big, fat steaks in my first cookbook, The New Steak. (I'd leave all that lovely Skirt steak alone, it cooks perfectly in a cast iron pan.) Why would I do such a thing? Because when you've got a thick-cut T-Bone or a big, meaty Porterhouse it's almost impossible not to get a little of that gray, overdone meat just benath your browned surface, even if you're cooking the steak to just 125 F. -- or rare.

I strongly receommend trying Myrhvold's method. It's weirdly effortless since there's no splattering fat or painful anxiety about overcooking your meat. (Damn! I hate an overdone steak.) Whip up some Montpelier Butter for a Rib steak (recipe is in my book) or some other lusty sauce and give a try. You won't be sorry and it might just change the way you cook a steak -- forever. Now that's what I call The New Steak.

A FEW TIPS: Test the steak after 30 minutes with a digital thermomter. The first time I used this method, the meat cooked faster and to a higher temperature than I expected. It was still outrageously delicious. Variations in oven temperture, thickness of the steak, fat content and how frozen your steak are will change the cooking time. That said, the beauty of the method is that it's very forgiving even if you do leave it in the oven too long.

Why is it so difficult to cook a turkey? Because -- in a scenario that is equivalent to roasting a chicken squared -- the thigh and leg meat need to cook to at least 170 F. to have the texture and look of cooked flesh. (That is, NOT slippery and shiny.) The breast, on the other hand, is beautifully done at 160 F., which means that if you take it out of the oven at 155 F. and let it rest for 10 minutes, it will be lovely, moist and flavorful. 

How to solve this problem or at least mitigate it? I have 3 suggestions that, taken together, will add labor to your day but will -- I promise -- produce a memorably tasty bird.

1. Brine the bird. Most people are familiar with this procedure and it does help get a moister, more flavorful (saltier) bird. I think brining is a good practice. I have a basic brine in my book, but there are any range of brines: Herbs, 1 cup or more of salt, 1/4 cup of sugar, plenty of cold water to cover. Let it soak for 24 hours. Keep it cold. 

2. Stuff the bird's breast with herb butter. In "Poulet" I give a couple of recipes for stuffing the breast -- one involving truffle butter. For a turkey, I'd suggest combining a stick of butter with fresh thyme, parsley, black pepper, and shallots. Loosen the skin and work your fingers across the breast under the skin. Once the skin is loosened, use a paring knife to make a slit right along the top of the breast bone, creating a pocket. Stuff that tasty butter down in the slit on each side of the breast. Press the skin back in place. Be sure that the bird is dry and that you've coated it all over with butter. 

3. Use a deep roasting pan or a large Dutch oven and cook the lower-half of the turkey in chicken stock. The liquid conducts heat much more effeciently than air, which means your dark meat (legs and thighs) will cook faster. The internal temperature of your bird's breast and thighs will reach their respective temperatures as measured in the oven at much closer to the same moment (155 F and 165 F), with a 10 minute rest on the counter bringing them to "done" (160 F. and 170 F).

BASIC ADVICE ON COOKING A TURKEY:

*Buy a great bird -- USDA certified-organic or anti-biotic free. "Natural" means next-to nothing when it comes to food labels. If you buy your bird from a farmer, great. You know (or can ask) where it came from and how it was raised and processed. 

*Let the bird lose the chill of the refrigerator before you cook it. I'd say at minimum an hour on the counter before you dry it off and rub it down with butter and then give it a good coating of kosher salt and black pepper. (Crispy, gorgeous skin involves dry skin, fat and high temperatures.)

*Start the turkey at a high temperature -- 400 to 425 F. Leave it there for 30 minutes or until the skin has gotten a little color. Turn the oven down to finish the cooking. If you haven't taken any of the steps above, consider starting the bird breast down and then turning it upright after about an hour. This will help with that uneven cooking issue as well.

*Be sure the bird's flesh measures 160  F. before you eat it. Whether it seems cooked or not, it will be safe to eat at this temperature.

May your table be happy and your turkey ridiculously delicious!

*Photo courtesy of Minnesota Historical Society.

Thanks to a VERY SERIOUS pay wall, this little tease is all I can link to. The headline alone is enough to make any author blush: The World's Best Chicken Recipes.   Tony Turnbill goes on to cook a bunch of recipes, including Mulligatwany with Onion Flatbread, Crispy Roast Chicken with Watercress Vinaigrette, and Jerk Thighs with Jamaican Peas.

I adore chicken; mostly whole birds and thighs, usually organic, always with the crispy skin on. My latest cookbook, "Poulet," is my paen to all the fine birds out there, destined for pots everywhere. It's a stunning book desgined for cooks who want to approach their meal as an elegantly balanced whole. You won't just find a recipe for Tuscan Thighs, you'll find on the same page the Wild Mushroom Risotto and Brussels Sprouts Ribbons to make a complete plate.

I think in regions when it comes to cooking. That's why what you'll find in Poulet are five chapters based on broadly defined regional cuisines and the styles and flavors that define them -- American, Bistro, Latin, East Asian, South Asian, and Middle Eastern & African. From Spicy Roast Chicken with Arepas, Avocado Butter, and Blackened Peppers to Black Soy Thighs with Shell Beans and Coconut Rice, I think you'll find fresh approaches and unexpected combinations. 

Here's to Poulet and to a chicken in every pot!

 Tweet

The branches of my giant row of tomato plants at the Frenchtown Community Garden are hanging low with clusters of Sungold Tomatoes. They're my favorite tomato to grow because they deliver acidity and bright, citrusy flavor. They come in prolific waves of orange that start early and keep going all summer long.

I can't imagine the mozarrella-tomato-basil combo that makes an almost daily appearance at my table this time of year without the venerable Sungold. When not paired up with mozarrella and basil, I eat Sungolds out of hand, pop them on pizza, gobble them between bread with avocado and mayo or cut them in half and sprinkle them on Breakstone's large curd cottage cheeese with flaxseed oil, salt and black pepper. (Try it!) After all of that, when there are yet more Sungolds on the kitchen counter, I make sauce. The idea is to capture that super-fresh flavor by JUST cooking the fruit. Add the basil if you're going to eat the sauce; if you're freezing it for later, wait.

SUNGOLD TOMATO SAUCE

3 tablespoons great olive oil

1/2 head local garlic, peeled and thinly sliced

3 cups Sungold tomatoes, cut in half

Pinch kosher salt

Large sprig fresh basil, chopped

Combine the oil and garlic in a large saute pan set over medium heat. When the oil starts to sizzle after about one minute, add the tomatoes and salt. Cook, stirring now and again with a heat-proof rubber spatula, for 8 to 10 minutes or until the sauce begins to stick to the bottom of the pan.

Sprinkle on the basil after you sauce your pasta. Or, if youwant to freeze the sauce, transfer it to a freezer-worthy container. Put a date on the container and bury it in the bowels of your freezer. You'll be deeply grateful to discover it when the last of your tomatoes are a lovely memory, merged in your mind with the smell of wet bikinis and the taste of lime and beer on ice.