Get Out in the Orchard (Apple Fritters)

French cooks would call these Beignets aux Pommes, but damn it, while I’m a French chef, I also grew up in Pennsylvania where huge Deitsch women cook apple fritters in vats of oil, bringing delight to us all.  This is a seasonal variation on my standard fritter recipe.  Don’t be scared by how the batter will look.  It should resemble taffy, however when you drop it in a fryer, you’ll get a crisp, airy, misshapen bit of dough, packed with concentrated apple flavor. 

If you would prefer to cook the fritters on a buttered griddle, deep frying can be scary, add an extra 1/2 cup of milk to the recipe and cook them like small pancakes.  Avoid the temptation to add “Apple Pie Spices” to the fritters.  While that might seem like a good idea at the time, they will burn in the oil and give the fritters a nasty acrid taste. 

October and November is the time to get out in the orchards and support the farmers.  Buy pumpkins and squash with the intention of eating them.   Ask the orchardists for the apples that they don’t normally offer to customers.  Their favorites, the ugly, spotty and streaked fruit is often the best.   

_____

Apple Fritters

2 cups flour

½ cup milk

1 egg

1 tablespoon baking powder

2 teaspoons melted butter

1 cup sliced apples, sautéed in butter

a pinch each of sugar and salt

powdered sugar for dusting the fritters

Peel, core and thinly slice 2 medium sized, crisp, tart apples.  Here is one place where Jonathans or Macs are a good choice.  Sauté the apples over low heat in 1 tablespoon butter.  You want to soften them, but not cook them so much that you make applesauce.  Refrigerate to cool the cooked apples while you make the batter. 

In a large mixing bowl, combine the milk, egg, butter, salt and sugar.  Mix with a wooden spoon to combine.  Add the baking powder and flour.  Mix the fritter batter until it pulls away from the sides of the bowl.  You’ve done nothing wrong.  It should be a sticky mess.  Fold in the cooled apples.  Rest the batter for 10 minutes. 

Heat a three inch deep pot of oil to 375°.  The oil must not be too hot or the center of the fritters will not cook.  With a small spoon, drop one teaspoon of batter into the oil.  Turn the fritter when one side is cooked.  Fry for about three minutes until brown and crispy on the outside.  Remove from the oil with a strainer and drain on some newspaper.  Fry the fritters in small batches. Hold the cooked fritter in a 165° oven.   

Dust with powdered sugar before serving hot.  It is unlikely that they will get to cool, since children, spouses and strays normally grab them up as soon as they clear the oil.

A critique (Pork Tenderloin)

Recipes that you pull down off the interwebs can sometimes be first-rate, but there is no guarantee.  A reader sent a pork and apple recipe that seemed to have all the right ingredients; however it did not come out right.  Her comment was “the meat seemed more steamed than roasted.”  Additionally, she thought that it would be good with some kind of crust, a good idea.  The reason that this recipe did not work is that there is a real jumble of technique.  If the author had simply decided whether he was making a sauté or stew, the results would have been satisfactory.  Since he didn’t, the result is not as good as the ingredients would suggest.  Also, pork tenderloin, or any lean cut of meat, should not be cooked in liquid.  It should be roasted quickly.  More on that later.

I haven’t a clue where this recipe came from.  It is probably not from Rachael Ray, because I don’t see any place where she suggests coating good food in some kind of crap carbs like corn flakes or Doritos.  It is doubtful that it is Paula Deen’s, since there is no diabetic-safe deep fryin’ or overt racial insensitivity.  I normally do not present other’s recipes, but this will be instructive.  It’s time to be a cook/nerd.  Here is a rundown of what was recommended.  I’ve cut out any info that your really don’t need.  Make notes.  See if you can spot the problems.

2 (1- to 1-1/2-pound) pork tenderloins

2 tablespoons vegetable oil, plus more as needed

  1 1/2 teaspoons salt, plus more as needed

  1 tablespoon Dijon mustard

  1 tablespoon chopped fresh thyme leaves

  1/4 teaspoon ground black pepper

2 apples, cored and sliced

2 onions, sliced

1 cup chicken stock

1 tablespoon butter

1. Heat oven to 425°F.

2.  Trim each tenderloin of any silver skin.  Pat pork dry with paper towels.

3.  Then, using your hands, rub the tenderloins all over with 1 tablespoon of the oil,    sprinkle with 1 1/2 teaspoons of salt, and rub until both tenderloins are evenly coated.

4.  Heat a tablespoon of oil in a large cast iron skillet or heavy-bottomed oven-safe frying pan over medium heat. You will know when the pan is ready when the oil shimmers.

5.  Add the pork tenderloins and cook, turning occasionally, until evenly browned all over. Transfer the browned pork to a large plate or cutting board.

6.  Add apples and onions then cook, stirring occasionally, until lightly browned around edges, about 5 minutes.

7.  While the apples and onions cook, coat the pork all over with the mustard, sprinkle it with 2 teaspoons of the thyme and black pepper, and rub until it’s evenly coated.

8.  Add the remaining teaspoon of thyme to the apples and onions, stir. Then, place pork tenderloins on top of apples and onions and slide into the oven. Roast 10 to 15 minutes or until an internal thermometer inserted into the thickest part registers between 145 and 150 degrees F.

9.  Transfer pork to a large plate and cover with aluminum foil. Let rest about 10 minutes.

10.  While the pork rests, place the pan with apples and onions back onto the stove and turn heat to medium. Add chicken stock and use a wooden spoon to scrape the pan, lifting any brown bits from the bottom. Bring to a simmer and cook until reduced by half. Add butter and stir until melted.

11.  Slice pork into 1-inch slices then serve on a bed of the apples and onions with pan sauce drizzled on top.

Crack open a jug.  This might take a while.  I’m drinking a Cab from Wycombe Vineyards in Bucks County, PA.  Here is my point-by-point critique.  Excuse me for being picky.  It’s sort of what I do.  This is how chefs think.

·         -The chef who wrote this recipe assumes that the reader is able to competently clean the sliver skin off the tenderloin.  Additionally, he thinks that a reader will know that a pan is hot by the look of the oil heating in it.  I would never take that sort of thing for granted.  Both of those things take training and/or experience. 

·         -Don’t rub the meat with oil, you’ll make a mess.  Just season it and sear it in the hot pan with oil.

·        - The author is correct.  The meat should be seasoned and browned on all sides.  Instead of searing the pork, then reserving it until later to finish, why not put it in the oven to finish cooking it now?  

·         -That’s a lot of onions!  Half of that amount would give you a better apple character.  You could cook the apples and onions in the pan where you seared the pork.  That way, they would pick up the pork flavor; however apples and onions have completely different cooking times.  Apples will cook through in ten minutes or so, while onions need at least thirty minutes.  The better way to do this would have been to stew the onions down in a separate pan, add in the apples (which you should have peeled) and cook them until they are soft, preserving their aroma.  Deglaze the pan with white wine or even better some hard cider, then stir the apple/onion compote in.  You are making a sauce, not just cooking up some stuff.

·         -Apples and mustard do not go together.  They are good in separate sauces.  Also you should never cook mustard for an extended amount of time since it will get bitter and acrid, like most cooks.  

  

·         -When the pork is returned to the pan with the steaming apples and onions, you are stewing it.  It will get tough and stringy.  The color will be pale, rather than browned.  That’s not what a cook wants to do with a fine cut of meat.  It is good that author suggests searing the pork.  It should then be cooked fully and rested while the sauce is finished.  Just before serving, the meat should be sliced across the grain then sauced.  The unbending rule is that cheap cuts are cooked at a low temperature for a long period of time, while expensive cuts get quick cooking at a high temp.  Actually, pork tenderloin is best sliced and pounded into paillards and sautéed.  Chef Ted used to do that and call it veal.  He always made his food cost.  He was not particularly ethical.

·         -Covering the pork with foil only continues the cooking, essentially steaming the meat, making it tough, ruining the browning that you worked so hard to do.  Instead set the meat in a warm place while you prepare the sauce.

·        - Ignore the whole discussion about a pan sauce.  Anything you would get out of the pan is already in the puree.  Skip that and make the best puree possible.  Oh, and why do Americans put chicken stock in everything?  Pigs have bones.  

·         -I would either mash or puree the apples and onions, then adjust the consistency with water, pork stock or cream.  Remember you are making a sauce, so it should be a thin coating texture.  Alternatively, it would be nice to heat the thick puree and flambé it with applejack or brandy.  Do like the recipe says, slice the pork and lay it on top.  

_____

Pages back, it was suggested that a crust baked on top would be interesting.  I agree.  Here are two ways you might do it.  For both preparations, sear the tenderloin in oil, place it on a broiler pan, brush it with something to hold the breading then add the crust.  Bake at 400° for about 15 minutes.  Remove from the oven, rest for 5 minutes, slice then serve.

Mustard Crusted Pork Tenderloin

1 cup bread crumbs

1 tablespoon unsalted butter

1 tablespoon Dijon mustard

1 teaspoon black or yellow mustard seeds

1 teaspoon fresh sage, chopped

1/4 teaspoon kosher salt

a few grinds of fresh black pepper

In a medium sauté pan, melt the butter over low heat.  Add the mustard seeds, sage, salt and pepper.  Sauté until the seeds begin to brown.  Add the bread crumbs, mix thoroughly, remove from the heat.  Brush the tenderloin with the Dijon mustard.  Top the pork with the mustard crust.

Parmesean Cheese, Black Pepper and Thyme Crusted Pork Tenderloin

1 cup bread crumbs

1 egg, beaten

2 tablespoons grated Parmesean cheese

1 tablespoon unsalted butter

1 teaspoon coarse grind fresh black pepper

1 teaspoon fresh thyme, chopped

1/4 teaspoon kosher salt

As in the previous recipe, melt the butter, add the seasonings and the bread crumbs.  Away from the heat, blend in the Parmesean.  Brush the tenderloin with the egg, then top with the crust.

Well, I hope you have had fun.  The above recipe is not a bad one, but if you have a little technique under your belt, you’ll be able to see through the problems and make a better dish.

The Formation of a Chef, and Pigs (pork roasted with apples and red cabbage)

Years in the restaurant biz will teach you that titles mean very little.  I started cooking in Pocono hotel kitchens when I was a kid.  While the food may not have been fancy, those ladies behind the stove blew out a large quantity of good, family style eats for an unrelenting five months a year.  It was impressive.  They had their weekly menu and roared it out of the kitchen.  Later I went to seafood houses, burger joints, grille rooms and corner bars.  In those kind of places, it was rare that anyone would call himself “chef,” because they were just doing journeyman work.  Get it out, make it consistent, give the customer value.

That changed with Philly’s “Restaurant Renaissance.”  For the first time, high quality ingredients were available from the farms in Bucks, Chester and Lancaster Counties.  New kinds of produce from Jersey started making it to the city.  I remember getting fresh basil for the first time in 1983.  Independent folk like Roy, “The Mushroom Man” showed up on our loading dock with a basket, really a wicker basket, filled with fresh mushrooms that he had either picked or grown.  We bought everything he had.  It took months before he gave us a phone number.  It took even longer to find out that his last name was Bjornson.  He was just the guy who came to the back door with fungus.  Mark and Judy Dornstreich were heroes.  On their Branch Creek in Farm in Perkasie, PA they grew the best baby lettuce and herbs.  My favorite thing that I got from them in the early years was miniature leeks.  Beautiful leeks, perfect, no bigger than a scallion that begged to be braised in fish stock and served with seared red mullet and a buerre blanc.  Their peas, always the first of the year, still make me remember why I love spring.

The downside of the new availability of all this good stuff was that few knew what to do with it.  You learn to cook through an extended period of apprenticeship.  With the explosion of new restaurants, the pipeline of quality cooks was sucked dry by the mid 1980s.  Consequently, entrepreneurs read a couple of Jasper White or Alice Waters cookbooks, got a loan from Dad and called themselves Chef, always with a capital “C.”  And always with a worse attitude than the guys who really knew what they were doing.  The most talented French guys insisted that they be simply called cooks.

Everyone had their own “cuisine.”  I don’t know how many people told me that I would have to be completely retrained to learn their technique.  For one guy, who got quite famous, his Thai-French Cuisine consisted of making a traditional French sauce and hitting it with Tabasco and lemon juice.  Even the paté.  Another, a former pastry cook who went yahoo, put on overalls and killed goats in the alley behind his kitchen.  Elaine Tate was the Inquirer’s food critic at the time.  She was a miserable, barely human thing, a former fashion writer, who panned every restaurant that didn’t have Asian food on their menu.  Me, I was running country French places.  Not much room on the menu for wontons and hoisin, so I got slammed every time she came in my place.  In fact, I got fired twice after her reviews.  Witch!

I was in no mood for this.  I had worked with a guy from Maxim’s.  If you play the Kevin Bacon game, I am five steps away from Escoffier and already had my gig down.  We put up with grand egos, slimy investors and paychecks that bounced.  It was tough to put out a quality product when the owner was wacked, snowblind on the Bolivian stuff, completely out of control.  People who ate out at this time always seem to remember what a creative period this was in Philly’s restaurant history. 

Working cooks, well we have a different take.   We saw lots of bad food.  Does anyone else remember grilled rosemary chicken with a strawberry confit?  Salmon skin, fried and dusted with chocolate powder?  The guys on the line, yes it was almost all men, developed a quick way to weed out the pretenders from the real cooks.  First, you had to have a serious recommendation.  You had to have worked with someone that I got drunk with in the very recent past.  Secondly, you had to know how to boil a chicken, one of the most basic things that cooks do and also one of the easiest things to screw up.  Lastly, finally getting to today’s recipe, you had to know how to roast pork. 

Pigs were sent directly from God to humans for our enjoyment, to be honored and savored.  A pork roast was the most common thing served at the staff meal, which was prepared by junior members of the staff.  The 1^st cooks and the chefs were normally too busy setting up the evening mise en place or doing pre dinner shots and coffee.  If that young cook screwed up his peer’s dinner, he might find his prep trashed or his uniforms customized.   Something well prepared and tasty would win accolades and mercy for most of the remainder of the shift.  Here's a typical staff dinner.

_____

Pork Roasted with Apples and Red Cabbage serves 10

3# pork loin roast

1 medium head red cabbage, chopped

6 large apples, Jonathon or Braeburn, sliced

1 cup onion, diced

1 cup cider vinegar

1 tbs. salad oil

1 tbs. unsalted butter

salt and black pepper

 Trim any excess fat from the outside of the pork roast.  Season with salt and black pepper.

 Heat the oil and butter in a large roasting pan.

 While the pan is heating, deeply core the red cabbage...

 and chop it into 1/2 inch chunks.

 Sear the seasoned pork roast on all sides.

 Roast it for 20 minutes at 400° F.

Peel and core six apples.  Slice them thin, about 1/4 inch.

 Dice the onions, then...

sauté them in the oil and butter.

 Add the apples.  

 Remember to compost the peelings.

 When the onions and apples have cooked down...

add the diced red cabbage.  Sauté the cabbage until it wilts.

Add the cider vinegar.  scrape the bottom of the pan to release the caramelized bits.

 Reduce the oven heat to 350° F.  Return the roast to to the pan.

Roast the pork until it is 160° F.  About one hour.
Remove the roast from the oven.  Rest for 10 minutes.

 

Slice the roast and serve on top of cabbage.