Skip to main content

First attempt at plantains

For a reason that is none of your business, I decided to try making some food involving plantains this past weekend. I may have been a little drunk, and I may have been dancing to Spanish language love songs while cooking, but that did not prevent some culinary magic from working itself despite my inebriation, lack of experience with the ingredients, and limited kitchen resources.

The first dish I cooked up involved seasoning some oxtail with a pre-made jerk rub, searing it in olive oil, and braising it in red wine (Apothic Red is my current kitchen red). 
After I had the oxtail on the back burner, I lightly caramelized some chopped green plantain in butter with a light dusting of sugar and allspice. Once the plantain had a nice golden color, I added it to my Dutch oven, put on the lid, and let it sit for a good 8 hours on low heat. 
Unfortunately, there are no pics of the finished product because I devoured it like a drunk fat man.

While the oxtail and plantain simmered away, however, I set to work on the yellow plantain I had also picked up at the local grocery store. I threw two and a half tablespoons of butter into my pan on a low heat and, once it had melted, I dropped in a cinnamon stick for a minute or two before adding in the diced plantain, again with sugar and allspice. I caramelized this plantain a bit more than the first batch, then pulled it all out of the pan.
Once the pan was nothing but melted butter, browned bits, and a cinnamon stick, I added in about a half cup of heavy whipping cream and beat it gently with a whisk for a few minutes to make a nice little cream sauce.
After the sauce thickened a little, it was snack time. I just poured the sauce into a custard bowl (added the cinnamon stick in for a visual touch, as well as helping to scoop...), and put it on the plate with the plantains. Nothing fancy, but it got the job done. I highly recommend giving this a shot.
Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

I don't understand food

Part 1 the morning after, while eating a sausage, egg, and cheese everything bagel from Bergen Bagels Last night, I had the pleasure, privilege, and audacity to eat at a Brooklyn restaurant named Aska . I know it's cliche to refer to a fancy restaurant meal as a life-changing experience, but this was straight up paradigm-shattering. I've written before about food being a medium of communication, about how I strive to reduce food waste as much as I can, about sharing our cultures and stories with each other through the meals we create, but seeing how Chef Fredrik Berselius is able to do this at such an intricate, elegant, and elevated level is both humbling and inspiring. The experience started before the first bite. I walked into the 10 table restaurant, and they knew me by name. I was shown to my table (right in the middle of the place, looking directly into the open kitchen), and they even pulled my chair out for me and pushed it up under me. I was a little uncomfortable with...
Post a Comment
Read more

Why not give a shit?

About a month ago, I cooked up a big pot of a miso vegan stew. It was a Sunday evening, so I knew I needed to cook enough for Sunday night dinner and Monday's lunch. A vendor was taking us out for dinner on Monday, so I needed enough to cover Tuesday's lunch, too. I had plans with a friend on Tuesday night, so I wouldn't have time to cook, so I needed enough for Tuesday dinner and Wednesday lunch, too, so I said, and I quote, "Fuck it. I'll just cook enough for the week." Unfortunately, as I packed away my leftovers that night, I realized that I cooked enough for a week and a half. Normally, that wouldn't be a huge issue, except that I was leaving town Friday morning and wouldn't be back until Monday evening and did not have room in my freezer to store more than a bowl. Luckily, I was able to pawn a few bowls off on coworkers, so it all worked out alright. However, when I told this story to someone close to me, they said I should think about donating t...
1 comment
Read more

Perspective

 I used to drive a 1986 pickup truck that was a heap of trouble on wheels. Mind you, I learned to drive in 2002. That piece of shit loved to just, you know, die. In the middle of intersections. While turning onto side streets. While accelerating from a stop sign. While braking for a stop sign. While cranking. It just died whenever it felt like it. It had AM radio and hand crank windows. That's literally it. No FM, no AC or heat. There were seatbelts for 2 of the 3 seats. I fucking hated that truck. On the other hand, it was my truck. I drove it to church, to work, and to the library; that was as far as I was allowed to take it, and I took it all of those places. I remember the first time I got it to idle while parked. I remember singing "The Prayer" over its dying engine multiple times. I think my younger brother probably has some flashbacks of some of those moments. But, as old, beaten up, shitty, annoying, and objectively terrible as it was, it sure was nice to have it ...
Post a Comment
Read more