Goats Hopping on the Roof

A month or two ago, I was reading the Food and Wine section of The New York Times. I tend to do that a lot when I am bored, in case you haven't noticed. There was a pretty interesting article on goat meat that convinced me I had to try it. The article touted numerous benefits--more protein than beef and less fat than lamb. And wouldn't it be stupid not to try the source of meat that most of the world actually eats on a regular basis? Of course it would.

But when I was little, my mom used to tell me about a pet goat she had growing up. Apparently this goat climbed the barn's roof and ignited quite some anger within my grandpa. Curses were cast. Expletives were muttered under his frustrated breath. And this quirky, lovable portrait of goats was all I really had to go off of when I thought of goats.

At the farmer's market a week or so ago, though, one of the farmers was selling goat meat. Because I'd made Jim read the article, he too was swayed to give it a try. So we went for it and bought four goat chops for $10, which was a little bit pricey given the size of the chops (which were a lot tinier than I'd expected). Adventure in cooking, however, has no price.

And finally, on Sunday, we cooked them. Jim's brother gave us a recipe for Goat Curry that would take about 4 hours, which is exactly what's needed to make the meat as tender as possible. Our apartment smelled delicious for the better part of the day. Nothing like smelling something all day to make you crave it.

Or so I thought. The entire time Jim was making the curry, I kept thinking about a cute and friendly goat hopping all over a roof. I knew that the curry would be amazing, but I was nervous to try it. When Jim pulled a chop out of the curry to check its tenderness, he pulled a little piece off for me to try. I went to take the piece, then changed my mind and squealed. "A goat??? I'm going to eat goat?" I thought. But it looked and smelled great, so I ate it. And it was great. It tasted just like spicy pot roast, honestly.

The added effect of imagining a goat climbing up a barn only made it taste better!

Goat Curry

4 goat chops
3 large yellow onions
2-3 tablespoons oriental curry
1 tablespoon chili powder
2-3 potatoes
2 carrots
2 tablespoons Canola oil

Chop up onions very finely. If you have a food processor, put them in there to make a paste. Heat the oil in a stock pot. When oil is hot, put onions in pot. Cook until they are golden brown and smell slightly nutty. Add the curry and chili powder to the onions and stir.

Salt and pepper the goat chops. In a separate skillet, sear the goat chops until brown crust develops. Put seared chops in with the onions. Add water until the chops are covered. Cover the stock pot and let simmer for three hours, stirring occasionally.

After three hours, cut up potatoes and carrots and put in the pot. While vegetables cook, make rice and serve curry over the rice. When vegetables are cooked, you can take the chops out to pull the meat off of the bone and put back in the pot.

Note: When eating the curry, watch out for bones. Because goat meat isn't very popular, they don't butcher it very well. We found a couple bones in the curry even after we took the meat off the bones. If you'd rather, and what I'll do next time, is to take the meat off of the bones before I sear the meat.

Catching Fire: How Cooking Made Us Human

From Lauren:

I was reading the New York Times Food and Wine section at work today--yes, I know, but I was bored. Anyway, there was a post on their Bitten Blog about Richard Wranham's book, Catching Fire: How Cooking Made Us Human. Wrangham's book suggests that cooking, and not anything else, separates us from animals.

Wrangham writes that cooking influenced our evolutionary progress and development in many ways. Most importantly, our ability to obtain and conserve more energy from cooked food than uncooked food led to a change in our physical bodies and mental capacity. Stomachs took less energy to process the food, leaving our brain open to receiving the excess energy and attention. It also promoted more refined social practices. The act of cooking food brought people around a fire, and this simple act of gathering could have calmed the nature and disposition of humans.

While I have yet to read the book, I know I will probably love it. He dismisses vegetarianism and the raw food diet, which I always love because I think both food movements can be harmful and don't make much sense.

The review brought up a lot of other interesting and valid points as well. One, for example, was especially striking to me. Wrangham suggests that the emergence of cooking started gender roles because females needed protection from being exploited as cooks while men did the hunting. Can't wait to read more on that.

Wrangham is a primatologist and biological anthropology professor at Harvard. Most markedly, he studied under Jane Goodall and wrote another fascinating book, Demonic Males: Apes and the Origin of Human Violence. It too, is now on my list of books to read. He writes with such a conversational and personable tone that it's hard not to love it. And I've only read excerpts!

So, I'm going to go buy this book. Hopefully within the next week or so because I really cannot wait to start reading. As I read, I'll write about the book and my comments.
Note: The picture of Wrangham was published in NYT's Bitten Blog and was taken by Rick Friedman.

Sidenote: The 63 Diner is now open again. We went last night, and it was delicious. Fried chicken, mashed potatoes, biscuit, and vanilla milkshake. Perfect for a date night...except for the grease dribbling down my chin. I don't think Jim minded though!

Columbia's Farmer Market

The start of the Columbia's Farmer's Market is a perfect reason for me to start writing again.

What I love about the Farmer's Market is how community-oriented it is. The grocery store is an errand. You want to get in there, get what you need (and you know exactly what that is and where it is), and get out. At the Farmer's Market, it's a conversation. You ask the woman selling cute jade plants how to care for it, and she tells you. She tells you that it is the hardest plant to kill. It doesn't even matter if that isn't true. What matters is that you are actually conversing with the person who is providing what you want to buy.

And, when you're done talking to her, you talk to the guy selling homemade pasta, which starts a conversation about how people cook pasta wrong more times than not. Too little water. Not enough salt. Way too overcooked. It's refreshing.

And the breezy air and sunshine can't even begin to compete with supermarket lighting and stuffy air.

Needless to say, I'm more than excited that the Farmer's Market is open for the season. I plan on visiting more than I should, considering there is a stand with homemade mini pies that are delicious.

Reclaiming my Passion for Food

For about four years straight now, I have been the sous chef. Yeah, sometimes I take the lead if we are baking. And sometimes, if it's been a hectic day, I'll make the standby chicken and rice casserole. But I rarely get the opportunity to take the lead and experiment in the kitchen.

It all started about four years ago. I've always had an interest in food. My step mother made everything homemade. Bread, pie, casserole, every dinner--all from scratch. She taught me a lot, and I've always remembered it, but it seems that every time I am in a relationship and I introduce the other person to the wonders of food, they take over. Before Jim, the person I dated fell in love with food and has now been accepted to the Culinary Institute of America. I remember every time we tried to make dinner, that person would find the recipe, go grocery shopping, and then proceed to make the entire thing, barking orders in my direction the whole time.

Then I started dating Jim. While gentler, it's been about the same. We started cooking together. I would make the food and find the recipes at the beginning, vowing what had happened with my first relationship would not happen again. But then he wanted to get better at cooking, learning everything there was to know about anything he could get his hands on, so I took a step back, because he really enjoyed it and I was glad he found something that made him happy. In the process though, my love for cooking took the back seat. I found myself cutting veggies while he did everything else, and then eventually when he was practicing knife skills, I wasn't even doing that.

I'd pretty much given up, conceding in this fight to be head chef. Whenever I did attempt to try and make something I knew how to make, he would just watch, and then next time, he knew how to make it and he took over. Or whenever I was making dinner, he would comment on everything I was doing wrong and how the way he did it was much better. "You really didn't the get the oil in the pan hot enough." So I grimaced and turned the heat up. "You should really try cutting it like this." So I stepped out of the way while he showed me how to cut the damn peppers in perfect julienne strips, all the while finishing the whole dish. Let me say just this: I hate perfectly cut vegetables. Yes, I know. It cooks evenly. But it feels so pretentious and anal. I like rustic, simple looking food, and that means rustic cuts.

At that point, I knew it was hopeless. I would just enjoy being cooked for instead. But every time he would cook, I always wanted to be in the kitchen, trying it out for myself. I should have said something, and I tried several times, but he never really got the message.

For Christmas, my dad got me a cookbook. It's a great cookbook. It's Ina Garten's "Back to Basics". The recipes are so elegant and simple and I spent several days studying all of the recipes and photos before I realized that this was my very first cookbook. For four years, I watched both of my significant others receive cookbooks and kitchen tools and gadgets as gifts, wondering why no one ever thought I liked cooking as much as they did. Well, I'm done with that.

World, I love cooking. I love cookbooks. I love recipes. I know how to cook just as well as the people I've dated. I just cook differently. And with this new cookbook, I intend to let everyone know.

Besides, neither of them could ever pull off my amazing roast chicken. : )

"Cooking" By James Peterson

From Jim, my cooking partner-in-crime:

I thought I'd review what I think is the very best cookbook and general kitchen manual there is on the market. Simply titled "Cooking", this book by James Peterson covers almost everything you need to know in the kitchen. The subheading on the outside of the book says it all: "600 recipes, 1500 photographs, one kitchen education." Because this book really is so much more than a cookbook, it's more of a intro education to the culinary arts.

So what sets this cookbook apart? First off, the pictures, all 1500 of them. They are big or small, sometimes there will be 10 on a page and sometimes there will be none. But nevertheless, the pictures are a godsend. Most, if not all of the pictures were taken by James Peterson himself, as he is, among other things, a food photographer. And because of his intense background as a chef and culinary instructor, he knows just how to take pictures that show exactly what he wants the reader to see for the greatest visual comprehension for beginning chefs.

There are countless step-by-steps in this book, all with superbly photographed instructions. That is this book's strength, the step-by-steps. From how to properly dice an onion, to how to make a soufflé (from before the eggs are cracked until after they are out of the oven...superb), Cooking covers how to make terrine fois gras and how to make that thanksgiving roast turkey with prep, cooking, and the carving. All covered with photos.

One thing that I most surely miss from the circa 1975 Good Housekeeping Illustrated Cookbook that I grew up with in my parents home, are the pictures of every dish. I know, I know 1500 photos... 600 recipes... there should at least be room to have a picture of every dish so you know what you're making right? Wrong. Sorry. I wish it were true as well, but that would almost undermine the idea of this book. It isn't written as an end all cookbook, but a stepping off point. The idea is that with the detailed instruction for how to do one task, you can then take that knowledge and run with it, preparing other dishes that are similar without any actual need for a picture of the other dishes for guidance. And if given a chance, this method works very well (at least for me) and encourages a little more confidence with newly learned skills.

Welcome to Hungry in Columbia

After viewing many different food blogs for Columbia, MO, I've decided to start my own. To start off with, I am a self-proclaimed addict of all things food related. I love Food Network. I save up what little money I have as a young college student for one superb dining experience every two months or so with my boyfriend, Jim. An evening in includes trying new recipes, and a slow afternoon means new baking experiences.

So, if you care or if you love food as much as I do, I hope you'll learn from my experiences. I'm down to earth, fairly easy to please, and will give great perspective on the food in this town and my kitchen.

Sometimes I'll let my cooking partner in crime, Jim, write a post. He's really into kitchen gadgets and tools and the techniques and processes that go along with gourmet food.

In any case, what I hope to bring is a new viewpoint on cooking and reviews on Columbia area restaurants when I have the money to go out to eat!