Tuesday, September 15, 2009

Stewing Over Señor Suavé

Ohmygosh. That lemon pasta sounds incredible. My dilemma: Do I cook pasta for a visiting Italian man I am just getting to know? He makes his own pasta. His own homemade pasta! He's talked about his mother's meatballs and makes my mouth water simply describing his favorite Italian dishes with names that are totally incomprehensible to me.
I'm thinking I should steer clear of Italian on the first visit. Don't you?



So who is this guy? Here's the short version of the story.
This past summer Mama Mia encouraged me to join her at Homeslice Bakery in the tiny cowboy town of Dubois, Wyoming for several days. We worked our buns off as baker's apprentices in between gigs hand-feeding the baby goat, Billy the Kid, (me in top photo, Mama Mia below) and tag-teaming dinner prep. We even helped make goat cheese and goat milk ice cream for the 4th of July celebration. (But that's another story.)

Along comes a friend of the baker: Senor Suavé. He happens to be a guy from Brooklyn. Retired at 55 from teaching high school English in NYC. The Grand Tetons called to him. So he moved West. He is a fly fishing guide. A mountain biker. A hiker.

So when he offered to take us on a wilderness hike I was happy to dust the flour off my clothes and head for the hills. Mama Mia, ever the conscientious one, opted to continue baking while I slacked off.

Señor Suavé rescued me twice from the rigors of kneading zillions of pounds of dough and making dozens on dozens of French rolls and taking the goat family for a walk to greener pastures. And the hiking, despite the 9,000 ft. altitude (I live in the flat heartland of the Midwest, after all) was, well, good. Very very good.

So the Italian New-Yorker-turned-mountain-man is coming to visit.
And here's what I'll fix on his arrival night. It's my go-to dish when I want to wow guests with new flavors. The recipe was created by fellow food editor extraordinaire Stephen Exel when we worked together at Better Homes and Gardens magazine:

Pork and Carrot Stew over Mashed Sweet Potatoes

2 lb. pork or lamb stew meat, cut into 1-inch cubes

1/4 tsp. salt

1/4 tsp. pepper

2 Tbsp. cooking oil

2 Tbsp. flour

2 14-oz. cans vegetable or chicken broth

1 12-oz. can apricot or mango nectar

2-inch stick cinnamon or 1/4 tsp. ground cinnamon

3 cloves garlic, minced

1/2 tsp. ground cumin

1/2 tsp. ground cardamom

1/8 tsp. thread saffron, crushed

3 medium carrots, cut into 1/2 inch pieces (1 1/2 cups)

1 1/2 cups frozen pearl onions

1 cup dried apricots

1 cup dried pitted plums (prunes)

Mashed Sweet Potatoes

1. Season meat w/ salt and pepper. In a 4-quart Dutch oven brown meat, half at a time, in hot oil over medium-high heat. Drain excess oil. Return meat to pan. Sprinkle meat with flour, stirring to coat. Add broth, nectar, cinnamon, garlic, cumin, cardamom, and saffron; stir to combine. Bring to boiling; reduce heat. Simmer, covered, for 1 hour or until meat is nearly tender.

2. Add carrots, onions, apricots, and plums. Return to boiling; reduce heat. Simmer, covered, about 30 minutes more or until vegetables are tender. Remove stick cinnamon. Serve over mashed sweet potatoes (Peel and cook chunks of sweet potatoes. Mash with butter—or yogurt—until smooth.)


3 comments:

  1. Still figuring out how to upload and place pictures in these blogs. Obviously these photos didn't lad where I thought they would. Mama Mia is in lower photo w/ Billy the Kid. I'm above.

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  2. Jeanne, thanks for the overview of Senor Suave and the fantastic go-to recipe.

    Do you find it a challenge to get your hands on apricot nectar or saffron threads? Sounds like a trip to Central Market or Whole Foods here in Dallas.

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  3. Apricot nectar is everywhere. Most major markets/grocery stores carry it. Sometimes in glass bottles, often in cans. I often by a 6-pack of 5.5 oz. cans. Mango or peach nectar can be substituted.
    Saffron threads are a little pricey but worth it. However, the flavors in this stew are pretty awesome so don't let a lack of saffron stop you from making it. Leave it out. No one but the purists will notice.

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