Jambalaya

When I lost my job in January and had to cut back on expenses, our food budget went on the chopping block. I had to get creative, if I was going to keep buying organic produce, beef from a small sustainable farm, and local free-range chickens. 

I quickly realized:

1. I have a lot more food than I thought.
2. I prepare a lot more food than we can eat.
3. We probably eat more than we should anyway.

Today’s story has to do with Item 1. We have Costco quantities of canned green beans. A dozen cans of low-cal soup left over from two diets ago. Chicken broth by the gallon because if I’m going to pay for free-range chickens, I am using every single part of those expensive birds.

Last week I found rice in the freezer where I had stored it after some long-ago sale. I also had a couple of cans of Healthy Request Soup “Maryland Crab” which I really didn’t care for. I had refrigerator leftovers: some roasted chicken, a couple of green peppers I had roasted because they were about to go bad. I was inspired to make Jambalaya.

When I told my husband what I was making, he dashed to the bookshelf and pulled down Charles Kuralt’s “ America.” In the New Orleans chapter, he learns about Jambalaya - rice, trinity, and "whatever you've got!.” I rustled up some celery and onions and was on my way.

Here are the ingredients:

Uncle Ben’s boil-in-bag Brown Rice
Zatarain’s Red Beans & Rice
2 cans Special Harvest Maryland Crab soup
About a cup of roasted chicken, cut into cubes
2 roasted peppers
Onion
Celery

I prepared the Red Beans & Rice according to the package directions. Did the same with the Brown Rice, and then mixed them together.

I cooked the celery and onion in a little olive oil, then added the chopped roasted pepper. I used a small enamel cast iron pot and let everything simmer while I prepared the soup.

I made a roux with butter and flour in a soup pot, then added the chicken and the two cans of soup. Tossed in the cooked vegetables and let it simmer for about 20 minutes.

The crab soup gave the dish a good seafood flavor, and with the added chicken, it was quite hearty. I planned to mix the rice into the stew, but decided to serve it separately and I think that turned out better.

I heated up some French bread that went stale over Christmas and I had put in the freezer. Ran a little water over it, wrapped in foil and baked. It went well with the Jambalaya and was a great snowy day meal.

We still had lots of leftovers, which I have squirreled away in serving-size containers in the freezer. Item 2 still needs some work.

The good kind of pork

Pork-barrel spending was in the news today, as the U.S. House cut a budget item for a military airplane project the Defense Department didn’t want, but Speaker John Boehner did. Coincidentally, his state is where the manufacturer is located. I guess it’s right what they say – it’s only pork if it’s in someone else’s district.

Pork is political. Not just in the metaphorical pork-barrel spending kind of way, but in how pigs are raised, what they eat, how they’re processed, and what kinds of destructive environmental impacts are wreaked by factory farms. (In 1999, Hurricane Floyd hit North Carolina and caused massive manure lagoon flooding and overflows. Millions of gallons of raw manure polluted the rivers.)

The new wave of small livestock farms means most of us can get good quality pork. It’s not cheap like the <name brand redacted to avoid lawsuits> industrial chops and ribs you get in the supermarket. It is flavorful and nutritious, and for me, it makes a difference knowing I am eating a happy pig.

I get my pork from Sequatchie Cove Farms, which delivers to Birmingham about once a month. There are several Alabama producers including Goose Pond Farm. If you are a meat eater, you should support these small-scale pork producers, for your health and for the environment. If cost is a factor, just eat a little less of it- that’s better for you anyway.

This is what I made from my most recent pork roast. It was quick and delicious, and a little bit of pork went a long way. I used a leftover baked acorn squash and pork roast I made the day before.

Happy Pig and Squash

Acorn squash, cooked, cut in cubes

Roast pork, cut in cubes

Olive oil

Garlic

White wine

Orzo pasta, cooked

Acorn Squash

Put the olive oil in the pan then press two cloves of garlic into it. Cook a little, and then add the acorn squash. I cooked it for about five minutes until it was soft. Then add the pork, stir it up and listen to the sizzle. It looked like it needed something else, so I grabbed the bottle of white wine in the cupboard and splashed about an ounce into the dish. (And yes, I used the measuring cup as a shot glass and had a little bit myself!). Cooked it for a few more minutes – probably 15 minutes cooking time total.

I used orzo because I had a little bit of it in a big jar and it was taking up a lot of room in my cabinet. It turned out to be an inspired choice, because the small noodles were a similar size to the other ingredients and we could get all the flavors in one spoonful.

 

Pork & Squash

Orzo

The pork and squash worked well together – I think winter squashes can handle the fattier meat without being greasy. The wine mellowed the flavors together nicely. I’ve tried pork and sweet potatoes, but I prefer squash for a firmer texture and a lighter flavor.

What happens in Book Club...

...gets shared and enjoyed! This month’s Foodie Book Club reading was Cherries in Winter: My Family’s Recipe for Hope in Hard times, by Suzan Colón.  

Our author’s family faced tough times by putting up soup. Me, I fix pasta. Her mother and grandmother share expensive cherries in winter: “the snap of the skin, the tart juice tasting of summers past and the summer to come.” For my part, it’s capers and good olive oil.

In keeping with the theme of the book, we brought “comfort food” to our gathering: something that got us through hard times or was a family favorite. My offering hearkened back not to the Depression or to a deprived childhood (mine wasn’t) but to my days as a college student.

I ate a lot of pasta. (For you young people, pasta was my generation’s Ramen.) But since I have an Italian mother, you know I wouldn’t settle for spaghetti and Ragú. It didn’t cost any more to buy capellini or mostaccioli or my favorite, farfalle. I could toss it with some tuna, sprinkle a little cheese, or add some of those cheap onions. I would indulge in a little jar of capers, because they added a lot of flavor and always seemed so elegant.

 

Book Club Pasta

1 box Farfalle (Bow Tie Pasta)

2 cans diced tomatoes

Olive Oil

Sea Salt

Italian Herbs

Capers

Cook the pasta, drain. Pour in the tomatoes including liquid. Add olive oil, salt and herbs to taste. Add capers, heat until warmed through.

Cover with foil, put in a box or bag and head to Book Club. Eat leftovers for lunch the next day.