Those of you familiar with this blog should be well aware of my serious obsession with pork. ‘Cause if pork were a person, I’d stalk it!
So when I recently spotted the most bea-U-tiful, locally-raised 4.43 pound Boston Butt with an Animal Welfare Rating of 4 I have ever seen in any Whole Food’s butcher’s case, naturally, I snagged first and planned later. The snow white fat rind covering the roast’s top and sides enrobed evenly-marbled pink flesh. I expected great things of this roast.
A quick Google search on my craptastic Blackberry turned up a John Folse recipe for “Soul Pork Roast.” It seemed like a good start. The “suggested” cook time was 2 to 2-1/2 hours in a 375 degree oven, but I had a better idea: 40 minutes in the ole new pressure cooker! So I promptly e-mailed to myself a link to the recipe’s site before setting off to find all remaining ingredients.
The roast came enrobed in one of those elastic nets, which I promptly replaced with a length of butcher’s twine. (No nasty rubber aftertaste.) I followed the rest of the recipe using lard as the oil and with only a two modifications—(1) instead of waiting to the green onions, parsley, and the dash of hot sauce, I included them with the stock, and (2) I added an extra cup of water to compensate for the loss of liquid through steam. (The extra water was likely unnecessary, however, given the relatively short cooking time.)
I didn’t wait to bring everything to a boil as suggested by the recipe either, and closed the pressure cooker right away, bringing the whole thing to full pressure at a medium high heat. Like last time, when I prepared beef short ribs, the pressurizing procedure took about ten minutes.
When the little yellow button popped up, I started a ten-minute timer and lower the burner temperature to slightly less than medium. After ten minutes elapsed, I checked the steam level to be sure it was steady and then reset the timer adding another half hour.
When the timer alerted the second time, I removed the cooker from the heat and performed the depressurizing procedure. I then plated the roast before carving.
In hindsight, the roast probably should have been cooked another ten minutes for a total of roughly 50 minutes as the very center of the roast was still a bit rare. Because I was serving only two, however, I simply saved that rare part to reheat the following day by searing it in a dry skillet.
The outside parts of the pork, however, were soooooo delicious! Tender and juicy, the roast’s thick, white rind had melted to a soft buttery consistency infused with the flavor of the stock and aromatics.
As with the beef short ribs prepared on my first foray into the world of pressure cooking, all of the seasoning penetrated the surface of the roast and seemed to infuse every bit of it in a way I never achieved using a mere Dutch oven.
All things considered, this really cheap cut of pork—already my favorite readily-available part of the pig—was just as fabulous a subject for pressure cooking as was cheap beef. And feeding four in about an hour for less than $25, the Fagor Splendid 10-Quart Pressure Cooker/Canner proved itself once again to be an appliance I should never have waited to try!
Okay, so even though I grew up in a farming family, until last year I had never orchestrated the whole symphony on my own, so to speak. So I got in small and decided to stock my 0.00023 acres with as many herbs in containers as I could decoratively manage.
I decided to use no pesticides, synthetic fertilizers, or soil additives. I scoured the Internet for information on companion planting, and finally, I selected the soils, containers, and plants. And it was a good introduction. I managed to start enough herbs to make Kentucky Fried Chicken (eleven) plus Roma tomatoes.
Then came the challenges. First, was the historically high heat last summer, frequently topping 100 degrees here in Birmingham, which all but killed my tomato production. Second, came 31 tobacco hornworms, voracious little nasties I had to hand pick and squish (eww) lest they strip my tomato plant bare and eat up what little green fruit I had. Finally, came this white, fuzzy stuff with little black ant-like bugs on the herbs in my “shady,” rather air-circulation-free porch corner, as well as the sticky, spider-web like egg sacks on my rosemary.
Between and before the heat waves and pests arrived, however, I made batch after batch of fresh pesto, drank mint juleps, and supplied my husband with all the fresh thyme, oregano, and sage he could use. And each plant cost about the same as we would have paid for just one of those plastic packages of fresh herbs in the grocery store. You know, the ones that go bad in about three to five days.
If you are like us and absolutely love cooking with fresh herbs, there is no substitute for a constant, use whenever you want, right out on the front porch supply! Assuming we would have kept a stock of about six herbs at all times, each with a shelf life of five days, and a cost of $3.99 per package, that little herb garden saved us about $700 plus tomatoes. Hey, even if I paid $11 per bag of soil and $30 per container, I still came out ahead and then some.
Additionally, my herb pots were very pretty. In fact, other than a few box hedges, all of my ornamental plantings last year were totally edible. And my front porch smelled fabulous, making evenings spent there even more special.
Fast forward to last weekend. Having come through what should be the last frost (Easter weekend) and most of the last cold fronts expected for the year, including some pretty fierce straight line winds and tornadic near-misses, I figured it was time to roll so I went about unloading the containers of any old soil and debris they may still contain and rinsing each thoroughly to eliminate any dormant nasties from last year. I also cleaned out a couple of my now-root-bound box hedges to make room for my latest evil scheme.
Then I went shopping. First stop was Hanna’s Garden Shop on Highway 280. They have a huge selection of plants and landscape materials and are conveniently located on my side of town. And they were having a sale!
Although I was able to find organic soil and organic chicken poop fertilizer, none of their herbs were organic.
I did find a lovely San Marzano tomato plant and decided to get it regardless of its parentage, as this variety is a family favorite. (The variety is only half of the story, however, as the official “San Marzano” designation is an Italian certification that indicates not only the variety of the tomato, but also that it was grown in the San Marzano region. Hey, hopefully, one out of two ain’t bad….)
So I moved on down the line. After returning home to deliver the goodies I had accumulated thus far, I decided to let my fingers do the walking because I could already see this was going to be a long day of driving otherwise.
You see, last year, I planted basil as a companion to my tomato. The basil was intended not only to improve the flavor of the tomato but to repel the tobacco hornworm’s larger and even nastier cousin, the tomato hornworm. And, who knows, maybe it worked as I did not get tomato hornworms. But this year, I was looking for a companion plant besides basil for my tomato in the hopes of avoiding the procreative efforts of any stray tobacco hornworm moths as well.
I consulted The Oracle (okay, the Internet) to check my recollection that marigolds might fill the bill. Some very convincing sources argued, however, that regular marigolds would not only not prevent hornworms but might actually attract things like white flies. That sounded pretty bad. Instead, these sources recommended calendula or “pot marigold” saying the popular marigold advice was just so much mistaken nomenclature. Sadly, calendula doesn’t grow here until Autumn so nobody had it.
One lady I spoke with believed companion planting zinnias might repel hornworms and advised that zinnias were plenty hardy through our hot summers. Although a subsequent consultation with The Oracle indicated zinnias were good at repelling lots of bad stuff and attracting plenty of good stuff that killed other bad stuff, hornworms were not specifically mentioned. So, I’m hoping for the best.
This lady’s shop, Libby’s Plant Odyssey, also had a wide variety of organically- and locally-grown herb plants, so I drove up to the Lakeview District to look around. At the end of the day, I purchased the following additional plants—
two rosemary plants;
one each gray sage, spearmint, English thyme, Italian oregano, Genovese basil, French tarragon, marjoram—all of which I planted last year; and
one each of a few newcomers, specifically, French lavender, savory, a serrano pepper, and a four-pack of pink zinnias I thought would look nice with the cobalt blue containers on my porch.
Admittedly, several of these herbs can grow to a great scale if spaced properly. And also admittedly, I only had one 18″ round faux stone fiberglass pot for the tomato, two basils, and two zinnias; one two gallon round number for the serrano pepper and two of the same for the two rosemary plants; and finally the aforementioned pair of blue 18″ square containers into which I placed four herbs each with a zinnia in the middle. What can I say? I’m a maniac.
I won’t bore you (further?) with details about how to remove a plant from a plastic container and place it uninjured into a hole in some dirt. Instead, I will leave that bit to your imagination and/or whatever training the sales person at your local garden center decides to provide at no additional cost to you.
One tip, though. Shopping locally and staying out of the “big box hardware with occasional garden center attached” stores is a real help in this respect—the people who work at local shops do this gardening stuff all year long, most work in their gardens and at these local garden shops out of a passion for the subject, and many of these folks have done so for longer than they can remember. They are an amazing resource and good people to get to know. And they didn’t used to work in the plumbing or hardware department last week!
From time to time, I plan to revisit this chronicle of garden misdeeds so stay tuned for updates from Foodiesaurus, Weekend Warrior Princess.