Venison bourguignon (aka How to make the best out of a roadkill situation)

Dinner parties are one of my favorite things in the world. I love to plan the meal, turn on the backyard twinkly lights, and spend the whole day cooking something fabulous. When a hunk of deer turns up in your neighbor’s freezer, you know it’s time for a dinner party of your own.

My own dear neighbors offered up some of their venison (not roadkill, sadly) for last night’s soiree and it was pure perfection. We found a tasty looking recipe on Pinterest and, with a few tweaks, it was soon our very own:
Venison bourguignon with crispy roast potatoes. 
This meal was fantastic and is now firmly established as one of my favorites. The stew was so flavorful (thanks to the fine piece of meat and the entire bottle of wine) and proved to be the epitome of comfort food. The potatoes were crispy yet soft and had a delightful melt-in-your-mouth quality with just a hint of thyme. It was relatively easy to make, but took about 4 hours total (1 hour prep and assembly; 3 hours simmering with the occasional stir).
The recipe was originally blogged by A Spicy Perspective. I chose to cut down the carrots by half, since 2 pounds not only seemed a bit excessive but simply wouldn’t fit in my Le Creuset (hint hint-gift idea-hint hint). I also took a page out of my friend Lydia’s book and shredded the carrots, as opposed to chunking them. I love me some carrots, but three hours in a simmering bath of wine robs them of that delightful carrot crunch and usually just makes it easier for people to push them out of the way on their way to the meaty goodness. Since they are necessary for adding flavor throughout the cooking process, shredding them gives the final product a delightfully thick and luscious texture.
I also omitted the mushrooms (since they are evil and must be stopped) and brandy (since we didn’t have any). I am now remembering, as I write out the ingredients, that I forgot to add tomato paste! It was fantastic without it, so if you forget, too, then don’t worry: no judgement here.
Olive oil
1 large onion
1 lb carrots
6 cloves garlic
12 oz bacon (the recipe originally called for 8, but who doesn’t love more bacon?)
3 lb venison
1 bottle dry red wine
2 cups beef broth
1/2 cup brandy, if you have it
2 T tomato paste, if you remember it
2 sprigs thyme
1 bay leaf
S & P
3 T flour
3 T butter, softened
Chop up your bacon
And brown it in your dutch oven (medium heat)
Meanwhile, cut up your venison into small, bite-sized chunks. I made my chunks smaller than usual, since venison is a bit gamey and could probably use the extra surface area while cooking.
Remove the bacon from the pan and set aside to drain.
Pat the venison dry with some paper towels, season with salt and pepper, and brown them in the rendered bacon fat (medium-high heat). NOTE: drying the chunks is very, very important. If you place wet meat in the pan it will not brown!
It took about 4 rounds in the pan to brown all of the meat; set aside.
While the venison browns, prep your veggies:
Shred the carrots and finely dice the onion and garlic.
If, like me, you end up with a very brown pan after browning the meat, then reduce it with a bit of wine or brandy and pour it into a small bowl. That reduction is intensely flavorful, so don’t throw it out! Save it to add back to the pan with the other liquids.
Add a bit of olive oil to the pan and add your veggies (medium-high heat).
Cook until softened, then add the meats back to the pan:
Add your wine, broth, herbs, 1 t each of salt and pep, and optional brandy + tomato paste to the pot and bring to a boil.
Reduce to a simmer and let cook for 3 hours, stirring occasionally.
While that did it’s thing I whipped up a chocolate cake
And got the potatoes ready for the oven (they took about 1.25 hours, so plan accordingly!)
After 3 hours of simmering, the stew looked and smelled fantastic.
It had cooked down considerably and all the flavors had melded together like a big vat of gold. I removed the bay leaf and thyme sprigs, then added a paste made from the flour and butter:
This thickened the stew up quite nicely and gave it a wonderful creaminess.
Enjoy your noms!

Nonnie Sauce (Majorly delicious spaghetti and meatballs)

This is a very old Pelliccia family recipe that my dear father has consented to promote on the interwebs via my blog. Consider yourselves quite lucky, because this meal is a real treat!

The recipe was created by my great-grandmother Rosa, a southern Italian from Vico Equense whose family immigrated in the late 1860s on their very own vessel. She married my great-grandfather, Orlando, whose family was from Verni, a small town in northern Italy right outside of Lucca. I was actually fortunate enough to meet this branch of our family a few years ago, where we learned that Orlando was born in the Puccini house. No one knows why, but it’s our claim to fame!

“Nonna” means grandmother in Italian, which is where the name “Nonnie sauce” comes from. My dad and his siblings were far too American for such a complicated Italian word.

This is not your average sauce, which should be obvious because I don’t promote just anything on my culinary adventures. I have standards, people.

The real key is the cinnamon that is added to the meat balls. It may sound a tad strange, but you will thank Nonnie once you taste it and realize her true brilliance!

You will need:
Sauce
2 28 oz cans of plum tomatoes
1 28 oz can of diced tomatoes
1 small can tomato paste
2 bone-in pork chops, thick cut
1 large yellow onion, chopped
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 bay leaf
Meatballs
1 lb hamburger meat
1 egg
5 tsp sugar
1 slice good, stale white bread, rubbed between hands into bread crumbs
1/2 c grated parmesan
5 good shakes of ground cinnamon
S & P

To get started, dry the pork chops and brown them in a hot dutch oven pan with a bit of oil (1-2 T). Pork is fairly fatty and will provide most of the oil you’ll need to keep it from sticking, so you don’t need to add as much to the pan as you would for chicken.

After they are nice and brown, add the onion and garlic and lower the heat to medium. Add the bay leaf.

After the onions have softened, add all the tomatoes and S & P to taste.

My sister Emily is very excited to be holding a can of the finest tomatoes. It was the highlight of her Saturday evening (she’s obviously not old enough to pound a few drinks during cocktail hour, so she gets her kicks where she can).

While the sauce cooks

You can work on the meatballs! Add all of the ingredients to a bowl.

Since ground beef gets very tough if worked too much, I would suggest mixing the other ingredients together in a separate bowl before adding it to the meat. This will help you get consistency without doing too much kneading.

Mix everything together (don’t over mix!!) and form about 1 in balls. Set them aside to add to the sauce later.

The sauce should cook for about 3-4 hours, so it’s a good idea to either prepare these closer to the end or pop them into the fridge until you’re ready for them.

After a few hours, gently add the meatballs to the sauce. This should occur about 30 minutes before you intend to eat, since it only takes a half hour for them to fully cook.

You can also encourage your younger sisters to do the work for you, while the parental figure supervises and you enjoy a beer:

Do NOT stir the simmering sauce for at least 10 minutes, or else the meatballs will break apart. Be very gentle when you do stir it!

When you have 10 minutes to go, cook your spaghetti:

When you’re all set, pour yourself some nice red wine and settle in for major noms!

I’ve been having a lot of fun with my hipstamatic camera app. Aren’t I just so artsy?

Homemade Pasta

No more boxed pasta for you, trooper. This is the real deal, the stuff Kraft workers dream of and only experience in fantasty (fantasy + tasty) worlds. So come on down for some

Homemade Pasta.

I’ve taken a culinary adventure trip to upstate New York this week, which is as wild and crazy as it sounds. Not only do they know how to party like rockstars up in here, but they’ve got snow. I haven’t seen any yet, but I’m holding on (Wilson Phillips style).

As my little family unit discovered tonight, the arduous task of rolling out the pasta dough is made much more enjoyable when done with a bunch of people you like being with for 45+ minutes.

The recipe itself is insanely easy– all you need is three ingredients:
2 cups semolina flour
2 cups all-purpose flour
1-1.25 c lukewarm water

Mound the flours together on a work surface and make a well in the center. Slowly pour the water into the well while swirling the flour inwards, forming a very messy mass. It’s good to have a buddy so that you can focus on the flour as they pour the water.

As you can see, you’re just moving from the inside out in a helter-skelter fashion. Once you have cohesive dough (add enough water to pull it all together, but not so much that it becomes sticky) knead it for 10 minutes. This is very important to develop the gluten and make the dough nice and silky.

Camilla, my lovely sister, did the honors for us.

Spray some saran wrap with olive oil and tightly wrap the dough. It becomes very sticky, so the oil will prevent you form pulling your hair out when you unwrap it later. Let it rest for 30 minutes.

Take small (large marble) bits off of the dough and roll them into long strands. Cut into the desired length (you could do tiny bits or long, spaghetti-like noodles) and lay on a baking dish with semolina flour (prevents sticking).

We thought flour would help the rolling process, but it actually made it very difficult to roll the dough properly. Using a dry surface with no flour worked very well and allowed for the correct shape.

Boil a large pot of water with an ample amount of salt. Dump the entire contents (including the semolina you used to dust the baking sheets) into the water and let cook for about 6 minutes. It depends on how thick your pieces are and how firm you want it. Remember– this isn’t like dried pasta, so don’t expect al dente!

When it’s ready, drain and toss with your favorite sauce.

We went with my dad’s famous Vodka Pasta (which I will debut here soon!) and ate ourselves silly.
Nom!