Metal Recipes: Ov Fire, and Fucking Pigs
‘Fucking’ is not a verb here, children.
Greetings, Toileteers. Last time in Metal Recipes, we explored how to get a cheap and tasty Asian-ish / fake Asian (Fasian?) noodle dish quickly and with minimal fuss. I’m sticking with the approach of keeping things relatively simple, not requiring any fancy cookware or strange techniques, and being kind to our wallets. My goal here is not to be some fancypants chef showing off, but to provide some useful approaches to food to help us save some money while getting the satisfaction of cooking for ourselves and doing it well. Plus, you can play whatever you like while you cook, which is a big step up from the almost invariably abysmal playlists found in many restaurants. You know what I’m talking about: The Spin Doctors, Train, all that shit that was popular seventeen years ago and still has yet to be consigned to the void.
This time, I’m going for something that has a slightly higher outlay cost and takes a little more time to make, but will easily give you a [work]week’s worth of dinners. Here is a slightly unorthodox take on green chili, which is a staple in Colorado, where I used to live, but is a rarity here in New England. Done right, this dish can be eaten on its own or as a side, and delivers a deep hit of meaty richness with a nice citrus bite. All told, I think it probably comes out to about $20 total, which for five or six meals (or possibly more) ain’t bad.
Normally, green chili is made with pork butt. Factoid: a butt is an actual unit of measure, which means that “buttload” is a perfectly acceptable scientific term to use in all situations, including formal dinners and/or meeting your significant other’s parents for the first time. Anyway, since I only had pork belly on hand, I used that. Some chefs will say that belly is too fatty for green chili. Those chefs are wrong, and they listen to Creed. Pork belly, being that from which bacon and pancetta are made, and being the raw material for samgyeopsal– which is fucking delicious- is a sacrament and is never wrong to use. Pork belly is the Deathspell Omega of pig products, and practically melts in your mouth when prepared properly. It also takes less time than pork butt, which is so tough as to often take a whole day of slow-cooking to properly tenderize.
You will need:
1 ½ – 2 lbs pork belly (available at most butchers and Asian markets)
1 28-oz can tomatillo puree (available in some grocery stores and most Mexican markets)
2 – 3 small cans diced green chilis
1 beer for the stew (lager or pilsner recommended, though I used Kirin and that worked fine)
Plenty more beer for yourself
1 large yellow onion
4 garlic cloves
~1 lb potatoes, preferably small potatoes with waxy skins. Russets don’t work for this.
2 – 3 large dried chili peppers (anchos, pasillas, chipotles, etc)
Whole peppercorns
Salt
Sugar
Fish sauce
Vinegar (I used apple cider vinegar)
1 lime
Instructions:
- This recipe was made up on the fly, and being thereby mindless, must be dedicated to the glory of Azathoth, the blind idiot god. Sacrifice a potato to Him, and despair at the prospect of crawling chaos about to engulf your kitchen.
2. In a small bowl, mix ½ cup salt and ¼ cup sugar together. Sprinkle generously over all sides of the pork belly, rubbing it into the meat, until the entirety of the belly is coated. Pour any leftovers over the belly as well. Place in a Tupperware container or ziploc bag, and leave in the fridge overnight. The salt will draw moisture out, while itself sinking into the meat, which seasons and helps tenderize the belly. The sugar will help to caramelize the belly when it’s time to cook it.
3. Chill out for the rest of the evening, or pillage and burn until the world is cleansed of those who listen to Sugar Ray.
4. The next day, rinse the remaining salt and sugar off the belly, and pat dry with paper towels. Put a medium saucepan of water on to boil, and while you wait, slice the meat into 1 – 1 ½ inch cubes.
5. When the water’s boiling, dump the cubed meat in and let boil for 20 minutes. This is parboiling, which reduces the time the meat needs to cook in order to become tender.
6. Rage.
7. While the meat is boiling, roughly chop the onion, garlic, and potatoes. The latter should be in small chunks, about ½ inch. Put each in its own bowl and set aside, like so.
8. When the meat’s done boiling, drain it but save the water. Cut the cubes into slices about ¼ inch in width.
9. Heat a large skillet (cast iron preferred) over medium heat, then add half the meat. Cook each side about 2 – 3 minutes, or until browned. The meat will spit and pop, so be careful! This is the father of bacon we’re talking about here. When it’s done, scoop out the meat and dump it into a large saucepan or small stockpot. Or Dutch oven. Whatever you have that will fit everything.
10. Congratulate yourself, because you deserve it.
11. Dump the onions into the skillet and return it to the burner. Stir well to ensure the rendered fat coats all the onion. Cook for about 5 minutes, stirring occasionally.
12. When the onion begins to turn translucent, add the garlic and cook 1 minute more, then dump it all into your big saucepan / stockpot / Dutch- oh, fuck it. Let’s just call it The Large Receptacle.
13. Beer time for yourself.
14. Add the rest of the belly into the skillet and repeat step 9.
15. Dump the potatoes into the skillet and fry about 6 minutes, stirring occasionally, until lightly browned. Sacrifice them to The Large Receptacle.
16. Remove the stems from your dried chiles, chop the chiles roughly, then assimilate them into The Large Receptacle.
17. Slice up the lime and do likewise.
18. Add your tomatillos, green chiles, a beer, a cup or so’s worth of the pork water (that is not an appetizing term), 2 tablespoons fish sauce, 2 tablespoons salt, a small splash of vinegar, however much garlic powder you want, and a tablespoon of peppercorns. Anything else you like, also; I put a couple teaspoons of gochujang in, for added depth. Stir it all together.
[NOTE: the red things you see are dried red peppers, which are entirely optional. I added them because I like heat and because they were gathering dust in my pantry, aka the cupboard into which I cram more food than I probably need.]
19. Put The Large Receptacle on the stove and turn on high. When it begins to boil, turn the heat down to low, and let simmer for 2 – 3 hours. If you lose too much liquid, add more water, but remember that this is supposed to be stew, not soup.
20. Let cool (this will take awhile, so go do something else), then scoop into containers. You should get about 5 meals’ worth, maybe more. I’d recommend mixing a cup or two of rice into this as well, to make it last even longer.
21. Consume.
