Crab and Tasso Stuffed Pork Chops

I became enamored with the food of the low country while working on Fripp Island, South Carolina. There are some similarities with cajun food, both have a heavy African influence mixed with a melange of other cultures. Serve over puree of yucca and celery root with bourbon glazed roasted carrots.

Photo by Chris Kohanek

6 pork center loin chops -- about 8 to 10 ounces each

Brine

• 2 quarts water
• 2 lemons -- thinly sliced
• 6 sprigs thyme
• 2 sprigs rosemary
• 6 sprigs parsley
• 2 bay leaves
• 1 teaspoon peppercorns
• 1/4 cup table salt
• 1/4 cup sugar

Stuffing

• 2 tablespoons olive oil
• 1/4 cup red onion -- diced
• 1/4 cup celery -- diced
• 1 clove garlic -- minced
• 1 jalapeno -- seeded and diced
• 1/4 cup tasso ham -- diced
• 8 oz crab meat -- picked clean
• 1 cup fresh bread crumbs
• 1 egg yolk
• juice of 1/2 lemon

For the Brine:

Put everything in a stockpot and bring to a boil. Remove from the heat and allow to cool. Refrigerate until cold.

Place pork chops in brine and allow to brine for two hours in the refrigerator.

Meanwhile, make the stuffing.

Heat the oil in a saute pan until shimmering. Add onion, celery, pepper, and garlic. Saute until softened, but not browned, about 5 minutes.

Remove from heat and add remaining ingredients. Toss to mix and season with salt and pepper. Place in the refrigerator until needed.

Remove the pork chops from the brine and pat dry with paper towels. Discard the brine.

Slice a pocket into each chop. Fill each pocket with the stuffing.

Preheat a grill or grillpan. Grill the chops, about 5-8 minutes per side, until cooked through.

Recipe by Dan Turro

Bourbon Glazed Roasted Baby Carrots

• 3/4 pound carrots, baby
• 1/4 cup brown sugar
• 1/4 cup bourbon
• 1/4 cup butter
• salt -- to taste

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.

Peel the carrots and place in a baking dish.

Place the remaining ingredients in a small saucepan and bring to a simmer. Cook until the sugar dissolves.

Pour the glaze over the carrots. Bake until the carrots are tender, about 20 minutes.

Celery Root and Yucca Puree

A Delicious Alternative to Mashed Potatoes

• 1 celery root -- about 1 pound
• 1 yucca root -- about 1 pound
• 2 tablespoons butter
• 2 tablespoons cream

Peel both roots, roughly chop, and place in separate pots. Cover with water and season with salt.

Bring both pots to a boil and simmer until very tender. Drain.

Mash the yucca root with a potato masher until smooth. Pass through a food mill.

Process the celery root in a food processor until smooth. Combine with the yucca root.

Add butter and cream. Adjust seasoning as necessary and serve.


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NOTES : Yucca roots can have woody, fibrous little sticks in them. Passing it through a food mill is a crutial step. If you do not have a food mill you can force it through a colander.

My Background

My first culinary job was in a privately owned restaurant in Shelton CT, where I started as dishwasher and moved into a prep cook position. That was in 1982. Since then I have worked as a manager, waiter; line cook; broil cook; soup and sauce cook; fry cook; sauté cook; expediter, chef, and more.

I have expertise in Italian coffee. In addition to managing Starbucks retail locations; I have also sold Italian espresso machines and coffees. I have trained many people over the years in the art of Italian coffee beverages.

A lifelong desire coupled with a convergence of circumstances allowed me to attend Le Cordon Bleu College of Culinary Arts, in Atlanta GA. My culinary externship brought me to San Domenico, a fine dining Italian restaurant on Central Park South, in Manhattan. After graduating Summa Cum Laude from Le Cordon Bleu, I worked briefly in La Taberna Vulgi, a restaurant in Santo Stefano del Sole, Italy. This small town is located about forty kilometers inland from Naples. After my brief stint at La Taberna Vulgi, I traveled around Italy for a while. Having previously spent time in Japan, Thailand, Italy, Germany, Austria, Switzerland, Belgium, France, Ireland, and the UK for brief periods as a tourist, I found my time in Italy as a worker and guest to be very rewarding. I also had the opportunity to hone my Italian language skills. I have successfully completed the certification courses for wine fundamentals 1 & 2 from the International Sommelier Guild. I am certified in both servsafe and nutrition.

Upon returning from Europe, I found myself on Fripp Island, South Carolina as the interim food and beverage manager. A stint as a wine sales representative for an Italian wine importer / distributor followed.

I am currently the Southeast Regional Sales Manager for Alto Shaam, a premier American manufacturer of commercial culinary equipment based near Milwaukee, Wisconsin. This followed a very successful couple of years in a similar position of Regional Sales Manager and Chef for a multi-national manufacturer of combi-ovens based in Germany, where I consistently exceeded my sales goals and grew the territory by one million dollars. 

Cold Gingered Galia Melon Soup Shooter

An Interesting Appetizer served with Basil Gelée and Myer Lemon Oil

I was shopping in Whole Foods Market yesterday and I was inspired to make this soup shooter. Soup shooters are popular as amuse bouche in restaurants or as passed hors d'oeuvres at catered functions. They are a great way to greet guests as they arrive at your house for a dinner or cocktail party.
A galia melon is similar to a cantaloupe. You could use any melon you wish for this recipe. Meyer lemons are a hybrid of a lemon and an orange. They have a sweeter flavor than traditional lemons. You can find meyer lemon oil alongside other gourmet flavored oils in your favorite market.

Gingered Galia Melon Soup

• 1 ounce candied ginger
• 1/4 cup filtered or mineral water
• 2 tablespoons sugar
• 1 Galia melon, about 2 pounds
• 1 Meyer lemon, peeled and seeded

Place the ginger, water and sugar in a small saucepan. Bring to a boil and cook until the sugar is dissolved. Remove from heat and set aside. Peel and seed the melon and place in a blender along with the lemon. Pour ginger mixture in and blend on high until very smooth. Pass through a strainer and chill.

Basil Gelée

• 1 package gelatin (1/4 oz)
• 1/4 cup mineral or filtered water
• 1 cup basil, packed
• 1 cup mineral water
• 2 tablespoons champagne vinegar
• 1 teaspoon sugar
• pinch salt

Sprinkle the gelatin in a small pan and pour the 1/4 cup water over. Allow to bloom for 5 minutes. Meanwhile, place the remaining ingredients in a blender and blend on high until smooth. Strain. Place the gelatin over medium low heat until dissolved. Add to the strained basil mixture.
Pour into a rectangular baking dish. If there are a lot of bubbles on the surface, lay a paper towel down on the surface and gently remove. This will remove the bubbles. Place in the refrigerator until set up.

To serve: cut 1/4 inch bars from the gelée and then cut into cubes. Place about 8 cubes into a tall shot glass, fill with soup and drizzle with meyer lemon oil and serve.

I Just Wanted a Pizza

Frutti di Mare Pizza, Pisa Italy

Photo by Dan Turro

After catering a brunch last Sunday, I did not feel like cooking dinner. I also did not feel like going out. I decided to get a pizza and bring it home. There are not many pizzas worth eating in Atlanta, and even fewer in my immediate area.

Mama Mia’s in Stone Mountain Village does a decent job, although they do not deliver. I called to order a pizza, which I would pick up. The woman on the other end of the phone apologized and said they close at 4PM on Sunday. She was there for a private party.

Bambinelli’s is another acceptable pizza. They, like the folks from Mama Mia’s, are transplants from New York. Both families have been in Atlanta for more than two decades.

I called Bambinelli’s in Lilburn, a location that has not been open that long. It is located 6.1 miles from me. The man on the phone informed me that they would not deliver to me, but the original location at Northlake would. I found it strange that they would not deliver to me because they are not that far, about ten minutes away. The man assured me that the original location would deliver to me. He used to deliver for them.

I called the original location and was asked for my phone number and address. The man then said, “You know we don’t deliver there?” Well, of course I know that! I was just bothering random retards on the phone and you are the object of my attention. Lucky you! Actually, no, I don’t know that you don’t deliver here. I told the guy that the man at the other location said I could get delivery from the original location. The next stunning response was; “Well, he doesn’t work here!” Really, both are Bambinelli’s restaurants owned by the same family. Somewhat taken aback by the employee’s curt attitude, I said the other man told me he used to deliver for the original location and he assured me that I could get delivery.

The next response was simply dismissive - “Well, I don’t know what that’s about.”

At that point, I simply hung up. It was not because I wanted to be rude; it was because I saw no merit in continuing the conversation. There was obviously no desire to secure an order from me, let alone provide any level of customer service. Here is the kicker; I started my search for an edible pizza with the intention of picking it up. Mama Mia’s does not deliver and I was prepared to drive there. I would have done the same for a Bambinelli’s pie. Perhaps a better approach would have been to apologize for the confusion and ask if I would like to place an order for pick up. Maybe they could have even delivered the pizza. I live ten minutes away.

This should not have come as a big surprise. Some time ago, while eating at Bambinelli’s, I ordered a bottle of Banfi wine and was delivered a bottle of Il Villagio wine. I informed the waiter and he apologized. He went to investigate and returned with the stellar answer – “That is our Banfi.” Really! I would like to sell you a Mercedes Benz. Yes, I know the car is a PT Cruiser, but is our Mercedes Benz. Both manufacturers have the same owner, but they are differing quality levels and therefore have different names. THEN, my wife found a large shard of hard plastic in her food. All the while, the owners where sitting at a table and enjoying themselves. No follow up was attempted, and the management never visited us once. It is a mystery to me how such a place can stay in business.

I ate polpette di melanzane (eggplant meatballs), and rigatoni with a spicy sausage and onion sauce; food that I made myself in less time than it would have taken to get a pizza delivered or picked up. I was just looking for a bit of convenience and a pizza.

A Good Samaritan Fest in North Georgia

All Photos by Doug Boyle

I am not a real outdoorsy person. During my twice-per-decade overnight camping outings, I always choose a campsite near the bathroom. I usually decide where to hike based on some other aspect of the area, such as easy driving distance, historical buildings nearby, or the food and drink I will have after the hike. Last weekend I embarked on a hike based on the last criteria.

Two of my friends and I decided to go hiking in White county, just north of Helen, Georgia. The seventh highest peak in Georgia was intriguing, as was hiking a portion of the Appalachian Trail. But, I had not been to Helen in a couple of years and that was the dominant determining factor. For those of you who are not familiar with Helen, it a strange little town in the North Georgia Mountains that looks like a Bavarian Village. More than three decades ago, in an effort to revitalize the economy of this logging town, they decided to give the town the appearance of an alpine village. My battle cry became “ I am just here for the beer!” as our day descended into chaos and uncertainty.

Our plan was to park at the Andrews Cove recreation area and hike to the top of Tray Mountain. The hike is seven miles round trip and the trail head is just north of Helen. But much to our chagrin, the Andrews Cove recreation area was closed. So continued up the road looking for another trail access. We came upon a parking lot were the Appalachian Trail crosses route 75. There were serious hikers here, the kind that hike to Maine. One of our group, naturally the female, asked a seasoned looking hiker about the trail. He informed us that Tray Mountain was 5 ½ to 6 miles away, making the round trip nearly 12 miles. As I was only there for the beer, this seemed like much too large of an investment. Another option was to hike to the top of Rocky Mountain, which was much closer. On the return trip we could come straight back or we could choose the Blue Trail, which would loop us around back to where we started. At least this was what our seasoned hiker-friend told us. The trail was beautiful and the hike was strenuous enough to feel like work. We reached the top of the mountain and rested while taking in the vast beauty of the mountains. Other than my new boots causing me some discomfort, all was beautiful until this point. Our trek back to the Blue Trail was easy enough. We ran into other hikers, both casual and die hard, and chatted a bit. One guy was headed to Maine and would arrive there in August. And I thought a Greyhound bus was slow.

We then embarked on Blue Trail. It was more pleasant than the way up, with gentler slopes and easier footing. Our conversation turned to the seasoned hiker, and the fact that we did not ask how long the trail was. Surely, I reasoned, it cannot be outrageously long because the hiker knew we had no interest in hiking the 12 miles back and forth to Tray Mountain. Certainly, he would not suggest a trail that is just as long. And we walked. Then we walked some more. By now the irritancy of the new boots was progressing into pain. We finally came upon a gravel road that was mentioned by our now disparaged hiker-guide. At least we should not be too far from our car.

As I sat to try to alleviate the discomfort caused by my boots, an old two-door Nissan with a young twenty-something couple stopped to chat. As it turns out, we were still some distance from our car. We were not sure how far, but it was clear that we were not close. They offered me a ride in their small car, so I grabbed the car keys from my friend and jumped in the car. And we drove down the gravel road. Then we drove some more, and then some more. We traversed a shallow stream in the old Nissan, causing steam to pour out from under the hood. And then we drove some more. Finally, we came to the road. We took a left and headed up the mountain. After about two more miles, I finally arrived at the car. I thanked the young couple profusely. I also mentioned how thankful my friends would be. They had no idea of how far they still had to go.

Limping towards the car, I became concerned when the remote wouldn’t unlock the car. My concern heightened when the car would not start. It seemed to be locked out by some security function. I called my friends, but they had no signal. I found the manual and read about a security feature that could cause the car not to start. I followed the instructions to overcome this feature, but to no avail. I called the dealership for guidance but the service department was closed. I continued to call my friends. A hiker was hanging out waiting for a friend and we chatted a bit. Finally, he could wait no more and disappeared up the trail to find his friend. “Hopefully you won’t be here when I get back,” he said as he left.

I was sure it was a security feature and not a dead battery. A dead battery usually gives some sign of life. Besides, why would my friend have the lights on during the day? While that question was never really answered, the lights were left on and the battery was dead. It was getting very cold and my left foot and ankle hurt quite a bit. And I could still not get in touch with my friends.

A short while later a car pulled up and out jump my friends. I informed them of our car dilemma. We had no jumper cables. I wrote on a piece of paper “JUMPER CABLES?” with lipstick and stood on the side of the road. The hiker had returned with his buddy. We asked the buddy if he had cables the response was “in Alabama.” There was a sign that listed phone numbers for the Ranger’s office and the Sheriff’s office. The Ranger’s office is closed on the weekend. That makes sense because probably no one hikes here on the weekends; it is mostly a Monday through Friday hobby. After overcoming my disbelief, I called the Sheriff’s office. The number was invalid, another fine example of our tax dollars hard at work!

The Alabamian hikers were on the other side of the road, hitchhiking. As one of them was snapping a picture of me with my little sign, I asked them to mention our predicament to their Good Samaritan, when someone stopped to give them a ride. A short while later, an SUV stopped to pick them up. Fortunately, they had cables. Long story short, the cables were short, the car was large, and we could not move our car because we could not get it out of park. I started to pull cash out of my pocket, to buy the cables from the man so at least we could get a jump later, as another car pulled into the parking lot. I approached the new car and explained the predicament. They were nice enough to pull into the space next to our car. The battery was on the closer side, and the car was much smaller than the SUV. Problem solved. The car started and everyone went on his or her way.

The lessons here are many, but the primary two are basic. Just like the scouts say, be prepared. Do not go out without maps. We had a compass with us but it was not consulted until we were very far into our journey. Wear boots you know to be comfortable. Secondly, people are good. Four carloads of people and a hitchhiker came to our rescue. Even our seasoned hiker-guide was probably well intentioned.

All is well that ends well. The Altstädter Weinstube & Biergarten had opened since my last visit. The food was authentic and delicious. The beer list was nearly all German. There are few stresses in life that can not be solved by good food and drink. We even stopped by their sister restaurant, Edelweiss, and stocked up on German sausages.