Kurobuta Ham and Mustard Sauce

When I first started watching the TV Food Network, in its infancy, I really enjoyed David Rosegarten. He had a half-hour show every day around noontime, and regularly I tuned in while I had my salad or half a sandwich. He no longer has his own gig, although I guess he’s still a guest on some of the other Food Network shows. He’s moved on to bigger and better things, I suppose. He had a monthly food (mailed) news magazine, but now it’s an e-zine (The Rosegarten Report - available for a fee online). But you can subscribe (free) to his e-newsletter called Tastings, which arrives in your inbox every week. He scours the hills and dales of the world for the best food things, whether it’s caviar, olive oil, or in this case, ham. His endeavors tend toward the very high end, and I’ve reluctantly deleted most of the e-newsletters because of the costs.

But the story behind this ham was different. It hit a strong note with me. I’ve been, just like David Rosengarten, very unhappy with the state of the ham industry in the last 20+ years. Once the processors began injecting hams with water, I knew we, as consumers, were on a downhill spiral toward something that really isn’t ham anymore. I kept looking, but everywhere it was injected with water (with salt, surely, or sometime sugar too). Hams tended to be excessively salty – to me, at least. And yes, I’ve bought Honey Baked Ham multiple times. It’s okay if you like a really sweet ham. Somehow I think the sweet – the sugar and spices – just masks whatever taste there is underneath. And with my DH being a Type 1 diabetic (60+ years and counting), pouring sweet sauces or glazes on a ham make it very undesirable for him.

So, when I got David Rosengarten’s epistle recently, about ham, my ears (so to speak) perked up. I read avidly through the article about ham. Got to the bottom line and found that one ham, a half ham at that, was $100.00 plus shipping. Once again, I was ready to delete the message. $100 for a half ham? You’ve got to be kidding? But somehow my fingers just couldn’t press the delete button. I decided to think about it.

David Rosengarten was disappointed in the ham industry too. He kept seeking out hams everywhere he could find them. He read up about the pig farmers around our nation. He called and spoke to some of them. He bought hams everywhere from small farmers, hoping to find that elusive taste he remembers from his childhood. Nothing. But he kept working at it, and finally decided 3 years ago to go into business with a pig/hog farmer in Idaho called Snake River Farms, willing to raise the animals with his specific standards. I don’t now remember all the details, but it’s back to the basics, grass feed, no additives whatsoever, no hormones, butchered differently, smoked differently, but fresh, always fresh. Here’s what David Rosengarten’s e-zine had to say about this Kurobuta pig:

About Kurobuta Ham: The breed actually arose in England, where it’s called “Berkshire” pork. But the English, in the 19th century, sent off a shipment of Berkshire hogs as a gift to Japanese diplomats—and the Japanese really flipped out. They gave the breed the name “Kurobuta,” meaning “black pig” (its coat is basically black), and developed an international reputation for Kurobuta pork, much as they did for Kobe beef. And Why Are These Porkers Superior? As you might expect, Kurobuta pigs yield meat that is indeed fattier than American supermarket pork. But—here’s the really cool thing—Kurobuta, though richly endowed with intramuscular fat, is not among the fattiest of breeds, which means that you never get a fatty, greasy taste when eating the pork. Instead, the real distinction of Kurobuta pork is a shorter, rounder muscle fiber—which, incredibly, leads to a much higher retention of moisture in the meat.

A week or so went by and I conferred with my DH about splurging on a special ham. He liked the story I conveyed about David Rosengarten’s Kurobuta hams too. So, I did splurge and buy one of these babies. It arrived on Thursday and into the refrigerator it went, where it sat until Easter Sunday.

Included in the box was a brochure with some of David Rosengarten’s favorite holiday recipes (to serve with a ham), and details about how to prepare this ham, this very special ham. My daughter, Dana, made the mustard sauce on Saturday – a very easy preparation, although it does have to be cooked. It thickens some once it cools off, but it’s best served warm. There’s nothing unusual in it at all – dry mustard, sugar, vinegar, cream and egg yolks. It was just delicious. David Rosengarten’s recipe came from his grandmother-in-law, Mrs. Hitchcock, so I continued with the name. Need to give proper credit here, where it’s due.

The ham, well, what can I say. It was absolutely wonderful. Worth $100? Yes, it was. Certainly more expensive than a whole chicken for Easter Dinner. We paid upwards of this amount for our kosher turkey just before Christmas, so spending $100 for the ham doesn’t seem quite so exorbitant. But yes, it was expensive. Too bad all the pig producers don’t learn a lesson from this, but their greed for more poundage and speed to market, means we’ll never have pigs like this unless someone like David Rosegarten produces them. Will I order it again? A resounding YES. The family is clamoring for leftovers.

Cook’s Notes: This combo – ham and mustard sauce – is pretty straightforward. The ham is nothing but easy. It’s heated in a 275 degree oven for several hours. That’s one of the “secrets” to the pork – you don’t want to heat it in a hot oven. Slowly, you bring it up to 135 degree internal temp and that’s it. No added seasoning. No glaze. How much simpler could it be?

David Rosengarten’s Kurobuta Ham with Mustard Sauce

1 half or whole Kurobuta ham

Grandma Hitchcock's Mustard Sauce
Recipe By: David Rosegarten's grandmother-in-law
Serving Size: 12 [this is just a guess, no servings were shown on the recipe, although it makes 2 cups]
DRY INGREDIENTS:
1/4 cup dry mustard -- Colman's preferably
1/2 cup sugar
2 teaspoons kosher salt
1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
WET INGREDIENTS:
1/2 cup white vinegar
2 cups heavy cream
4 whole egg yolks -- beaten
1. Combine the dry ingredients in a saucepan.
2. Whisk in the vinegar, cream and egg yolks (beaten), blending well to combine. Place over low heat, stirring constantly, until thickened and smooth. Serve warm.

Per Serving (just the mustard sauce): 197 Calories; 17g Fat (74.9% calories from fat); 2g Protein; 10g Carbohydrate; trace Dietary Fiber; 125mg Cholesterol; 331mg Sodium. Exchanges: 0 Grain (Starch); 0 Lean Meat; 0 Non-Fat Milk; 3 Fat; 1/2 Other Carbohydrates.

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Mustard-and-Herb Chicken

Here's the mustard and herb chicken as it was served on the plate, on a bed of red onions, with cauliflower on the side.


Here's the chicken after baking. Note bread crumb crust.

Those of you who regularly read my blog will remember that a few days ago I felt so proud of myself after spending many hours clipping and filing recipes. It needed doing. Then yesterday I went into our laundry room, which has two tall shelves that are completely full of kitchen equipment that won't fit in my kitchen. And I went to a 8-inch stack of handouts from cooking classes I've been to, and was hunting for a specific recipe that was lacking a topping. Out came the stack and I set it on the washing machine and began looking for the Joanne Weir class where she served that particular dish. And what did I find in this stack? Oh my. More recipes that had been torn out of magazines and newspapers. From about 2004 and 2005.

And yet again, one recipe floated its way to the top and said "fix me." I've only begun sorting and piecing together recipes in this new stack.

Sometimes the simplest of recipes are just over-the-top good. That's the story about this recipe. It came together in less than 30 minutes, and while the chicken was baking I was able to throw together some pan-sauteed cauliflower to serve with it. And to saute the onions that served as the bed under the chicken. The recipe came from Food & Wine, February 2006. According to F&W's website, this was a "staff favorite." I understand why.

You make a crumb crust from fresh bread. The recipe calls for 2 slices of country bread. Well, we don't have country bread on hand in our house - I buy good multi-grain bread at the Corner Bakery every week or so and slices are individually wrapped and frozen. So I used one slice of that bread plus some panko crumbs to make the topping, which also contains Parmesan cheese, garlic, fresh rosemary (I dashed outside, in the dark, mind you) and a bit of olive oil to hold it together. The chicken thighs (I only had skinless, boneless, not what's called for in the recipe) are seasoned, then browned briefly in a large saute pan that can go in the oven. Once you flip them over you slather them with some Dijon mustard, then carefully mound the crumb mixture on top before popping the pan in the oven at a high temp to bake for about 15 minutes.

Meanwhile I started the cauliflower, and about 7-8 minutes before the chicken was done I sauteed the onion, sugar and lemon juice mixture that goes underneath the chicken. DH and I both just l-o-v-e-d it. Really l-o-v-e-d it. I'll make this again and again. The thighs were perfectly cooked. And the onions were still just slightly crunchy, which we both liked. The best part is that it came together in 30 minutes.

Cook's Notes: The recipe says it served two (two thighs each) but for us, one thigh, with the onion bed, and another veg on the side was plenty. So for me, I'd say it served 4 if the thighs are moderate sized. I used a red onion. Any kind would likely work.

Mustard-and-Herb Chicken
Recipe: Stuart Brioza and Nicole Krasinski, Food & Wine, 2/06
Servings: 4
1 slice country bread -- crusts removed, bread torn
1/4 cup panko [my addition in lieu of a 2nd piece of bread]
2 whole garlic cloves -- minced
1 teaspoon fresh rosemary -- finely chopped
1/4 cup Parmesan cheese -- finely grated
Salt and freshly ground pepper
1/4 cup extra-virgin olive oil
4 whole chicken thighs
2 tablespoons Dijon mustard
2 tablespoons unsalted butter
1 small onion -- thinly sliced [I used a red onion]
1 Pinch sugar
1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
1. Preheat the oven to 400°. In a food processor, pulse the bread until finely shredded. Add the garlic, [panko], rosemary and Parmesan, season with salt and pepper and pulse until combined. Add 2 tablespoons of the oil olive and pulse just until the crumbs are evenly moistened. Transfer to a small bowl.
2. In a medium, ovenproof skillet, heat the remaining 2 tablespoons of olive oil until shimmering. Season the chicken thighs with salt and pepper and add them to the skillet, skin side down. Cook over moderately high heat until golden, about 6 minutes. Turn the chicken and spread the skin with the mustard. Carefully spoon the bread crumbs onto the chicken, patting them on with the back of the spoon. Transfer the skillet to the oven and roast the chicken for about 15 minutes, until the crumbs are golden and crisp and the chicken is cooked through.
3. Meanwhile, in a medium saucepan, melt the butter. Add the onion and sugar, season with salt and pepper and cook over moderate heat until softened, 6 to 7 minutes. Add the lemon juice and cook until the liquid has evaporated, 2 minutes longer. Spoon the onion mixture onto 2 plates, top with the chicken and serve. NOTES : This recipe makes a strong argument for using fresh bread crumbs. Unlike store-bought ones, which can be powdery, fresh bread crumbs get toasty and crispy in the oven, making them especially delicious as a coating for these mustard-smeared chicken thighs.
Per Serving: 425 Calories; 36g Fat (75.3% calories from fat); 20g Protein; 7g Carbohydrate; 1g Dietary Fiber; 98mg Cholesterol; 271mg Sodium. Exchanges: 0 Grain(Starch); 2 1/2 Lean Meat; 1/2 Vegetable; 0 Fruit; 5 1/2 Fat; 0 Other Carbohydrates.
Printer-friendly recipe, click title at top.

Dinner at Cindy's Back Street Kitchen

Years ago I began following the cooking of Cindy Pawlcyn. She cropped up on the Napa Valley radar when she opened Mustards, in the early 1980's. She is an innovative chef, but rounds out her food with all the trappings of comfort food. As I believe I mentioned earlier, this was where I first tasted roasted garlic. Since it was very difficult, then, to even get into Mustards, one always had to wait for a table, even with a reservation. While waiting, what more obvious a thing to do than have a glass of the ubiquitous white wine of the decade (chardonnay, of course, because just about everybody was drinking the varietal at that time), and as you became more and more hungry watching and smelling the trays of food whisked from kitchen to tables, you might order a little something to slake your raging appetite. I remember asking the barman what we should have. He grinned and said, "the roasted garlic, of course." I'm sure I must have made a face: even though I love garlic, I knew nothing about roasting it and about how the flavor changes so dramatically. To utter smoothness, to cream.

So anyway, that began my enjoyment of Cindy Pawlcyn's food. And discovering how terrifically easy it is to make roasted garlic. Years have gone by, and I did enjoy many a dinner at Mustards, although now it's been some years. But when I began planning this trip, my friend Darlene raved about Pawlcyn's newer place, Cindy's Backstreet Kitchen. The name is thus because the restaurant sits in a cute and funky little house on the next street over from the main drag through St. Helena. The town itself is small. There's really just the one road that wends through the town, Highway 29. Tra Vigne is at the southern end of town, and Cindy's place is about in the middle of town. A month ahead it was difficult getting a reservation here, but I was successful only with an early hour. Our waitress was funny as a stitch. She told us about the specials of the day and went non-linear about the soup. She just insisted we
HAD to try it - a Tomatillo, Poblano and Asiago Soup. She said the wait staff was in love with it. So, what could we possibly do? We each ordered it. Oh - my - gosh! I cannot begin to tell you. I wanted another bowl. I did my best to get information about what was in it, other than the obvious. She didn't think there was cream, although she said it was thickened with masa. (To me, it looked like there was some cream.) So, today I did a search on the internet, and lo and behold I found a recipe from the chef at Stephan Pyle's restaurant in Dallas. I've never been there, but have certainly heard a lot about Stephan Pyles over the years. I haven't tried this yet, but I will. I can promise you I will because Cherrie and I went nuts over this soup. I'll let you know whether it compares with Cindy's. When I make it I'll try it without the flour, but with masa, and I'll taste it before adding any cream.

Cherrie ordered one solitary oyster with spinach, shallots and a melting cheese. I ordered the stuffed zucchini blossoms (with Jack, cheddar and Asiago, with a dollop of guacamole) lightly sauteéd. We also ordered a delicious grilled chicken dish, Chicken Pollo Loco (we shared one order) that was moist and tender.
It was stuffed with Jack cheese and California chiles and spinach, maybe flash fried with shallots and extra virgin olive oil.

Cindy's Backstreet Kitchen is a winner. The food was outstanding. The wait staff was very fun. The atmosphere very enjoyable. Where I was sitting I looked out a window - isn't this cute?

Cindy's Backstreet Kitchen, 1327 Railroad Avenue, St. Helena, California