Chickpea Stew

Me and cumin get along well.  I love the way it smells, I love the way it tastes.  If you could really form an opinion on the way a spice feels, I would probably love that as well.  Cumin is, with very little question, my favorite spice.  And my spice cabinet has seen it's fair share of spices.  I love how smokey and deep it is.  It is, in my humble opinion, the spice of mystery.  Yes, that is right, if mystery had a spice essence, it would be cumin.  Now go sniff you own bottle of cumin and tell me that I'm not on the nose with this one.  A bottle of cumin is essentially extract of mystery.

Ok, maybe that's a little bit of a stretch.  The takeaway there is that I love cumin.  So, when I saw a recipe in this month's Bon Appetit that used 2 tablespoons of this extract of mystery, I got a little excited.  As someone who usually doubles the amount of cumin called for in a recipe, even I thought 2 tablespoons might be just a little much, just a tad overpowering.  I had to try it immediately.  Even if it did call for 2 cans of chickpeas and to my knowledge, I have never eaten a chickpea in my life.  You can't turn your back on a recipe that calls for 2 tablespoons of cumin.

So on Wednesday (also now known forevermore as the glorious day that my silverware drawer return to me, hallelujah!), I got out my island spice red Dutch oven and whipped this up.  Well, not whipped, it took me a little longer than the 25 active minutes that BA suggests.  But I really didn't mind; I had knives, a glass of wine and my entire kitchen smelled of toasted cumin.  I was quite the happy camper.  And then I sat down to dinner.

It. Was. Amazing.  Ha, did you think things were suddenly going to turn for the worst?  Not so, my friend, not so.  Chickpeas, in case you are in my old camp of never having tried them, are quite tasty.  Granted, I am quite the fan of all beans, pinto, cannellini, and my all time, dark red kidney beans.  I can now knowledgeably add to that list chickpeas, as well as a few cans to my pantry.  The roasted red peppers were chopped small enough that they simply complimented the stew, and didn't try to become the star.  There was a small amount of chicken, (only two thighs for the whole pot, and we know how much I love my chicken thighs) enough that you know it's there but not enough that it's the main component of the dish, something that those of us that indulged a bit while training for a week in Houston definitely need to be conscience about.  The bread crumbs soak up the delicious broth that is more spicy than I anticipated, delicious beyond anything you may imagine and chock full of mystery.  That's right, we're back to the cumin (full circle people!)  Smoky, toasted, deep, glorious cumin.  It's the foundation of the flavor and just oh, so, wonderful.  If you are a cumin junkie like me, you have got to try this.  Tomorrow, today, or if you are lucky enough to work from home, immediately, at this very moment, make it for lunch.  I promise, it will not disappoint.

Obviously, this one is getting pasted into the big old green cookbook, unlike our more recent cheesy potato soup.  If I were more blog-literate, I would figure out a cool way to document which ones have and have not made the cut.  But I'm not.  So for now, you'll just have to settle for a BGCB label.  Guten Appetit!

Chickpea (and Cumin) Stew

Adapted hardly from Bon Appetit's Feb. 2011

2 Tbsp. olive oil

2 skinless, boneless chicken thighs

3 large garlic cloves, minced

2 Tbsp. cumin

2 Tbsp. tomato paste

3/4 tsp. crushed red pepper flakes

2 bay leaves

2 15-oz. cans chickpeas, drained

1/2 c. roasted red peppers, drained and chopped

2-3 Tbsp. fresh lemon juice (I only had Meyer's on hand)

Country style bread, cubed

In dutch oven pan set over medium high heat, heat oil.  Season chicken well on both sides with kosher salt.  Add chicken to pot and cook for 8-10 minutes turning once until browned.  Transfer to plate.  

Reduce heat to low and let oil cool for a few minutes.  Add garlic and saute until fragrant, about one minute. Add cumin, tomato paste and pepper flakes and stir well with a wooden in spoon, until mixture is a smooth paste.  Add 4 cups of water, chicken with any juice collected on the plate and bay leaves.  Mix well, scraping up brown bits that have accumulated on the bottom of the pan.  Bring to a boil.  Reduce heat and simmer mixture, uncovered about 20 minutes or until chicken is cooked through and tender.  Stir occasionally.

Drain and thoroughly rinse chickpeas.  Remove chicken from pot and transfer to plate again.  Add chickpeas to stew and bring to a simmer.  Cook for 5 minutes.  Meanwhile, shred the chicken into bit sized chunks.  Add chicken and red peppers to stew.  Season stew by adding 2 tablespoons of lemon juice to start with.  Simmer a minute, then adjust salt, lemon juice and/or olive oil to your tastes.

In serving bowls, place a handful of bread cubs.  Spoon stew over top and serve with a slice of bread to soak up any stray juices.  Enjoy!!

Balsamic Pepper Pork

There's not much of a story behind this recipe here.  Last weekend, after a long Saturday of hiking through southern Indiana among beautifully colored leaves and a tiny bubbling creek, I made Ben this recipe.  It was taken from my most recent issue of Cooking Light, which had a section devoted to pork tenderloin which I will be revisiting soon.  It was only a little bit of a pain and, spoiler alert, it was only ok.  

I'd be more excited to talk about the hike Ben and I went on through and all around McCormick's Creek.  It was beautiful as the leaves were starting to change, the creek was tiny and running and much more warm than I ever would have expected.  There were flowers and I collected a little bouquet of orange, yellow and red leaves to bring home.  My pictures from the hike are much, much prettier than my pictures from dinner afterwards.  So, I'll spare you and give you pretty pictures of fall instead.  Happy October!  

By the way, the pork tenderloin was ok.  I think I would have enjoyed it more without the kalamata olives.  Ben liked it more than I did, but he really loves roasted red peppers.  But even he gave it just mostly, yeah, it was good.  If you like balsamic, roasted red peppers and kalamata olives, give it a go.  Otherwise, I'll have to work on some of those other pork tenderloin recipes for you!  Because, I don't know about you, but I really do like pork tenderloin.  I promise, we should be seeing it again soon.

Balsamic Pepper Pork
Adapted from October's Cooking Light

1 c. roasted red peppers, roughly chopped
2 Tbsp. balsamic vinegar, divided
1 lb. pork tenderloin
1/4 tsp. salt
1 Tbsp. olive oil
2 c. low sodium chicken broth
1 tsp. flour
1/3 c. kalamata olives (optional)

Mix roasted red peppers and 1 tablespoon balsamic vinegar.  Set aside.

Butterfly pork tenderloin so that it opens like a book.  Cover with strong piece of plastic and pound until pork is 1/2 inch thick all around.  Pour pepper mixture over pork and spread evenly, leaving a 1/2 inch border around the edge.  Starting at the long side, roll pork tenderloin.  Secure roll with toothpicks.  (Remember to count and remember how many you used!)  Season outside of pork with salt. 

In large dutch oven over medium-high heat, heat olive oil.  Add pork and brown on all sides, about 6 minutes.  Once browned, add chicken broth and bring to a boil.  Reduce heat, cover and simmer 20 minutes, until a meat thermometer stuck in the center reads 145 deg.  Remove pork from pan and let rest for 5 minutes.  While resting, combine flour and remaining tablespoon of balsamic vinegar, whisking well.  Add flour mixture and olives, if you want, to pan.  Reduce sauce to about half, around 15 to 20 minutes.  Slice pork into 1 inch rounds and serve with sauce.