Earning the right to eat

I’ve flirted with vegetarianism.  Given veganism my number.  Even had a steamy, tawdry affair with raw foods.  I do keep coming back to meat, though.  In different degrees, and based on an intuitive sense of what I can bring myself to consume.  I expect I’ll repeat the foray into meatlessness again at several points in the future.

Sometimes it was based on a certain guilt about consuming other creatures.  At others it was an issue of the quality of the products (non-organic, medicated, living conditions, processing techniques, ethics, etc).  Yet, something always brings me back to the land of the meat devourers.  Usually bacon.  Smoky, salty, sultry seductress…

I’ve set a few guidelines for myself as well, or rather, the guidelines have revealed themselves as personal truths.

For starters, I can’t bring myself to eat anything I’ve had as a pet.  Aside from the obvious dogs and cats, which can breathe a sigh of relief at this stay of execution, this also includes ducks and rabbits.

Technically we had chickens growing up, too, but they never responded to me (cold, distant snots) so apparently I’m fine to consign them to a roasted-until-golden gallows.

Personally, I think we should be made aware of food processing.  Even (no, especially) if it involves horrible, traumatizing, graphic visuals.  If you can see these things, and reconcile them with your own ethics and acceptability, then congratulations, you’ve earned the right to eat it!  Meat doesn’t grow in shrink-wrapped trays in the back of the grocery store.

On my recent time spent in Morocco this was blaringly displayed in the food markets where your meat is often freshly killed for you.  We had enrolled in a cooking course, which included shopping for the meal ingredients.  Knowing that I can’t bear witness to the carnage, I voted to go for the beef dish, as we didn’t have to make eye contact with our meal beforehand.  Only to reconcile the pieces being cut from the hanging carcass.

Yes, this was a wuss-out on my part.  I mean, it still came from SOMEwhere.  I’d just prefer my food to not have any memory of having seen me.

It’s easy enough to disassociate oneself when on unfamiliar territory, though.  Even back on the home front, however, this was brought into crisp focus when, on a trip to the JN&Z Deli on Commercial Drive, they were loading the pre-processed pigs into the store.  I watched as passerby quickened their step, averted their eyes, and generally pretended not to witness the offloading.

Photos courtesy of Michael C.

We like end results, and prefer ignorance to process.

I don’t claim to have achieved any sort of resolution within this post.  I don’t expect to do so until I have either a) become a complete devout vegetarian, or b) become a disconnected sociopath with no value for other creatures.

I do, however, allow these reflections to influence my/our eating habits.  There is an INSANE amount of time and thought put into sourcing the ingredients with which I cook.  At times, yes, it would be far easier to buy the warehouse pack of chicken pieces, or pre-seasoned miscellaneous meat appetizers.  Yet, if I am to wield totalitarian control within my kitchen, then I also need the same absolute control of what enters it. 

Simple.

A concerned parent wouldn’t enroll their child in a school without at least having some clue of the reputation of the teachers.  And so it is for me.

Now, I'm not quiiite as bad as these two... yet.  Give me time.

Rice, twice. This time nice.

In this house the words “Spanish Rice” tend to elicit an outburst of laughter.  This reaction is based on the fact that the one time previous I had made said dish it was spicy to the point of inedibility.  Like, 5-alarm, mouth-searing, tear-inducing pain.  I won't even get into what it did at the other end.  Who would’ve thought that a ¼ cup cayenne pepper may be too much?  Okay, it wasn’t THAT much, and to be fair I’d thought it was paprika.  I was mistaken.

It took me a while to work up the courage to attempt it again.  Napoleon didn’t exactly rush back to Waterloo.  No, my tail was between my legs and I just pretended it didn’t happen. I even considered exile on Corsica.

Recently, I was at my favourite meat shop (JN&Z Deli), and I noticed they made a chorizo.  Since I’d worked my way through a large portion of the rest of their menu of smoked and stuffed delights I figured it was high time to give the Spanish another try.

Upon returning home, though, intimidation set in.  Not only because of my previous experience with making Spanish rice, but also because I was then faced with the potential going the extra step and making paella.  I quickly dismissed the paella idea (although, since I don’t have a proper paella pan I could’ve blamed any failure on that fact).  Either way the task felt daunting and, like 97.3% of the rest of my life, it got procrastinated upon.

By the time I summoned up the muses to bite the bullet and give it a try days later, the chorizo in the fridge had desiccated to a leathery, wizened phallus.  Far be it from me to allow anything to go to waste.  Some of my greater successes have been the results of using up the questionable items in the crisper drawers.  A soup out of yellowing broccoli, and wilted-on-the-outside leeks?  Garbage soup.  A salad from the greens that may be a day or two past their optimum freshness, topped with cheese which you’ve excavated from within a moldy parka?  Garbage salad.

Since the recipe calls for a fair amount of liquid, I decided to reconstitute the chorizo beforehand, reserving the water to be added to the pan.  Trust me, when it comes to JN&Z’s creations I’m not about to pour ANYTHING down the sink.

 

Spanish Rice - the edible way

·      Chicken  - I used 2 breasts, but thighs would be yummers, too

·      Olive oil1 tbsp olive oil Olive O

·      Chorizo – 1 or 2 sliced into rounds8 oz chorizo sausages , cut in 1-inch (2.5 cm) piecesCoriz

·      1 onion , chopped1 1oniononions - chopped

·      Garlic – 1 or 2 cloves… I most likely used more3 cloves of garlic , mincedGGG

·      Turmeric – Just less than 1 tsp

·      Diced tomatoes – Ideally canned, but I used 2 fresh

·      3/4 tsp pepper 3/4 tsp turmeric Just less than 3/4T1 can (28oz) diced tomatoes , drainedTomato3 cups chicken stock 2 cups long grain rice 2 2cups rice – long grain

·      3cups3 cups stock (chicken or veg)– or whatever quantity stock plus the water used to rehydrate the jerky-fied chorizo

·      111 sweet pepper – chopped 1 sweet yellow pepper , chopped

·      11 cup frozen peas 1 1cup cuppeas – frozen is fine

·      chopped parsley

·      salt & pepper

·      Optional: additional paprika (hot or smoked) about 1-2tsp (less if using smoked)

Heat oil in a large skillet (I used the cast iron base of my tagine), and brown the chicken.  Remove and set aside.

Add veggies (except garlic and sweet pepper) chorizo and turmeric to pan.  Sprinkle with a pinch of salt, and cook over medium heat until onion is softened.  Add garlic, stir in and cook for about 1 minute more. Paprika may be added at this point, too.

Add tomatoes and stir.  If using fresh, cook slightly until the moisture starts to come out of the tomatoes and they soften slightly. 

Add stock and chicken.  Bring to just below a boil, cover, reduce heat and simmer for 10-15 minutes.

Next, add rice, stir in and cover.  Cook for 20 minutes.

Finally, add peas, sweet pepper, parsley and cook (covered) until the rice is tender.

Adjust salt & pepper and serve.

This was a pretty brilliant one-pot meal.  The chorizo was gorgeous!  This made enough to feed a small army (or normal sized family).  I found myself returning to the pan, and later to the reserved leftovers in the fridge, to fish out the chorizo.  Along with it’s own spicy brilliance, it absorbs the garlic and onion flavours gorgeously.

As for the turmeric, well, I’m still not entirely what it does other than add some great colour.  Since I’m a bit superficial when it comes to the appearance of food, though, I admit I’m a fan.