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.

*Image: Lewis W. Hines, American (1874-1940). Series Title, "Presto-Lite Co." ca. 1920. Image property of George Eastman House, International Museum of Photography and Film.

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.

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!

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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. 

Image from The Wine Bottega

When it comes to the Contadino 7, made from Nerello Mascalese, Coda di Volpe, Alicante and other local varietals too old to identify, I’m with the fans. This is red with a difference. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you that this natural, biodynamic wine from the naughty Sicilian, Frank Cornelissen, really is unusual. I think it makes a stunning summer wine, served lightly chilled.

Peony pink in its clear bottle and ever so slightly cloudy (handle it carefully since there’s lots of yeasty sediment) the Contadino 7 is the color of the best Bandol rosé. The aromatics driving this wine are powerful, surprising, and ground-breaking. You’ll find plenty of fruit and flowers to fall for, most notably bright red cherry intermingled with fresh pomegranate kernels. Laced in the nose and across the palate are subtle hints of rose petal along with delicious freshly baked bread. Those toasty yeasts might surprise you when you find them for the first time. You’ll taste them, too, right through the bubbles. (Yep, there's a good bit of fizz here.) With terrific, balanced acidity and a crisp, clean finish, this wine makes a good show on the palate while remaining remarkably light bodied. 

When it comes to natural wine, it helps to have an open mind because words like funky, unpredictable and weird are going to find their way into your tasting vocabulary – if they aren’t there already. I think this is a good thing. In a world of sterile, dull, predictable mass production, the Contadino 7 is its own girl. 

Cornelissen makes his diverse wines not far from Mt. Etna, about 1000 meters above sea level in Sicily. He’s a big believer in the idea of nature and time as key elements in his winemaking process. Sure, most vintners embrace these ideas through a wine’s vintage and through their understanding of terroir. From what I’ve read, Frank takes both concepts to the extreme. He considers variables of time and nature as essential elements in shaping his wine at every stage. From the length of the growing season through fermentation and elevage he lets time and nature have their way. That means no refrigeration, no pesticides, herbicides or additives and generally very little manipulation of the natural product. By the way, Cornelissen really means it when he says he doesn’t use sulfur (or any other additives). He doesn’t use it in the vineyard or in the winemaking process and he doesn’t even use it to clean anything in the winery. Instead, he uses grappa (made from his own grapes) and steam.

One the best things about this wine – and there are plenty – is just how versatile it is. I want to have it with everything from spicy Thai cucumber-chicken salad to a Szechuan hot-pot, from a fish taco to cheese cake with fresh raspberries. In other words, it’s as versatile as beer – but way better! The wine is imported by the quirky, cool, sweet Zev Rovine of Zev Selctions. 

*If all of that is too vague, the recipe is in my first book, The New Steak. It's easy, with a big wow factor. I promise. 

If you have a garden, you have zucchini. Rather than boring yourself with it every night for dinner, eat it for breakfast. Cut the zucchini into bite-size chunks (no peeling or other fuss required) and throw the pieces into a saute pan with a splash of great olive oil ( Tenuta Il Poggione is awesome on, in and under everything from mozzarella to that kick-ass Afeltra pasta from Eataly). Cook for 2 to 5 minutes over high heat or until it's hot but not cooked through. Take the zucchini out well before it starts to give up its water.  (Once the water leaves the cells, you've got mush!)

Dump the cooked zucchini in a pasta bowl and fry up an egg or two using the leftover slick of olive oil in the same pan. Plop the egg on top of the zucchini, add a pinch of fleur de sel and sprinkle on some summery herbs. (I used Globe basil -- delicate and fragrant.)

Now that's breakfast! 

Days passs. I am despondent. But wait, I think. Wait..Krups is a German company and the Germans, and the French and the Dutch and the Euro-crowd in general supposedly love this steam-driven machine. "It was very popular in Europe." (So was DSK, but hey.)  My hunch hits the sweet spot. There, scattered over German eBay like so many bratwurst in the Marienplatz, is the replacement carafe I demand. Shopping victory is mine, minus international shipping, bien sur. 

One of the reasons I don't like frozen meat is the decline in quality that occurs when you thaw meat in the refrigerator. Often, a full 24 hours later, the meat has aged enough to be less than fresh. Because water conducts heat more efficiently than air, even a cool water bath in the sink will thaw meat much more quickly than the 37 to 40 degree air in your refrigerator will. But the process is still slow enough to require your attention over the span of several hours. (You don't want the meat to sit for hours in warm water, especially in a hot kitchen.)

I'd much prefer to thaw my meat in 100 degree water for just 20 minutes or so, as McGee advocates, and be done with it.

Here's to filling your freezer with local meat!