Chili verde and what happens when you have a real job.

Last blog post ... 2011.  That's what happens when you land a fantastic job.  Suddenly blogging falls way down to the bottom of "stuff I do with my discretionary time." 

But look, here I am again, and I'm going to talk about making chili verde.  See, I posted some pictures on Facebook and a friend asked for my recipe.  As usual, the answer is just not that simple. 

A lot of times when I cook, it's a matter of finding things in the fridge that need to be used up, or taking advantage of what was fresh at the farmer's market that morning.  I try to make stocks out of the meat and veggie scraps as I cook one meal and often use the stock in the next meal.  So I have approaches rather than recipes, most of the time.

Here's how I happened to make a great batch of chili verde last night.

First of all, I had a container of left over New Mexico style green chili sauce made from roasted hatch chilies.  Earlier this year I bought a 25 pound case of those puppies and spent a weekend roasting and freezing them.  And for everyone who thought I was nuts, be warned, next year I'm probably going to get 50 pounds.

I had a hunk (about 3 lbs) of pork shoulder (aka boston butt) roast.  I trimmed off the excess fat and cubed the meat and sprinkled it liberally with cumin, salt and cayenne pepper.

Pondering the state of my leftover green chili sauce, I decided it had been reheated so often that it had broken down into green chili sludge and that my chili verde would need something chunky in it besides pork.  So I chopped up a yellow onion into a large-ish chunks. 

I tossed the seasoned meat and the onions in pork fat that had been heating slowly in a large skillet on the stove.  Yep, pork fat ... I acquired that by throwing the fat I trimmed off my last shoulder roast into the oven (275 degreed F) and then just pouring the golden goodness into a jar.


As I looked around the kitchen in it's perpetual state of needing to be cleaned, I noticed that we had not eaten all of the cilantro chutney that I made for last night's samosas.  I had made that batch by chucking the following into my food processor:  2 bunches of cilantro, about an inch of ginger, 3 cloves of garlic, 2 green chilies, lime juice, salt and a little sugar.  I say "that batch" because my green chutney is often a matter of what's on hand as well.  My favorite green chutney from an actual recipe is for cilantro mint chutney.

Well, now that I thought about it, those flavors sounded like a good addition to my chili verde.  So in went two tablespoons of the chutney as well.  Once the meat was browned a bit, I added my left over green chili and about 2 cups of homemade pork stock.  (Yay!  Two containers out of the fridge!) 


All that was left to do was let the chili simmer for a couple of hours until the liquid had reduced to a nice thick sauce and the pork was falling apart tender.

We ate it with fresh avocado and yellow corn tortillas.  One of these days I'm going to learn how to make my own corn tortillas.  Until then, I'm a huge fan of La Tortilla Factory's Hand Made Style Corn Tortillas.

And there you have it.  My "recipe" for chili verde. 

I'll try to post again before 2015, but I'm not promising anything.  First I have to update my blog name.  Since our older son moved back home, we're Four in Tulsa these days.

Summer. Saturday. Mornings.

Perhaps the most nourishing thing I do during the summer is start my Saturday mornings at the Cherry Street Farmer's Market.  This is where I feed my soul for the week while buying food to feed our bodies.  So, if you are so inclined, would you join me on a Tulsa Saturday Morning in August?  Even though we're in late September and you are heaven only knows where?

Usually I start at the coffee house on cherry street but it was so hot by nine o'clock this morning that I thought it wiser to hit the market before the mercury hit 100.

The melon truck was still in business and I picked up a cantaloupe that smelled like heat and honey and left me breathless.

I'm flying to Colorado monday morning... driving to OKC after lunch at a friend's house tomorrow so I'm not shopping for much today.  I'm hungry for a good BLT though so I'm looking for tomatoes, bacon, bread.  The lettuce is long gone here.



Pork & Greens is my favorite place for anything from a pig.  sadly, they were out of bacon by the time I got there.  The woman in front of me got the last pound.  Fortunately, they're not the only supplier.  

Greenwood Farms still had bacon.  I didn't need eggs (their's are wonderful) and there's still some chorizo and smoked andouille in the freezer from a couple of weeks ago.  The sweet italian sausage has been eaten up but I'll come back next saturday and stock up on that. 

The only produce I need is tomatoes but I can't help but stop and look, talk and imagine - tucking ideas away in my head for future weeks.  Not too future ... the market closes in October and that will be here before I know it.

My favorite produce vendor is Three Springs Farm.  Some of the local restaurants buy their produce from them.  It makes my day when I'm standing next to someone buying up half the truck and talking about the appetizer they're going to put on the menu that night to take advantage of whatever treasure they've found. 

three springs farm

And yes, I believe we have found the tomatoes for dinner sandwiches.  I feel obligated to note that I didn't edit the tomato picture at all except to crop it.  And yes, the flavor is as intense as the color. I'm happy to just bite into one like an apple and let the juice run all down my face.  There is nothing like a vine ripened tomato.

About this time I was feeling really grateful for the existence of thin, 100% cotton clothing.  I wonder how the farmers are making it this year.  It's been so mercilessly hot and dry for weeks. 

I have my bacon, my tomatoes and I'm hot and hungry.  Thinking it's about time I found my ritual almond pastry and headed to CHOCS to hide from the heat and recharge my body and soul.

mmm ... and there they are ...

So back down cherry street, pick up loaf of sourdough from Farrell Family Bread. The bambino eggplant almost made me cave and buy something I wouldn't be able to do anything with before leaving town tomorrow.  So I settled for admiring them, chatting with their grower, and taking a picture.

Ah ... CHOCS is in sight ... and despite the brutal heat and the fact that my shirt is now sticking to me, i want a hot cup of coffee so i believe inside it will be today.

I duck inside and immediately my soul lifts, my shoulders straighten.  I love this place.  The noise of happy conversation, espresso machines, the staff teasing, a baby laughing, extra fans running in every corner.  I splurge and order a medium cappuccino. For here. This is not the to-go part of my week.

Oh. My coffee is up and it's beautiful.

Excellent.  There's plenty of room left in the cozy reading nook and I score the corner table, cushy chair and footstool.  Fistbump. 

And now - breakfast. 

The man across from me is absorbed in his cup of tea and magazine.  I sit and go through the pictures I just took, hook into the free wifi, hang out on fb. 

I think about my family and friends and what I could have done with those bambino eggplant.  I drift away on my coffee and the torch singer music drifitng through the rooms. Think about my life.  It's good. 

And then.  My coffee is gone.

really completely indisputably gone



So I go.  There's laundry, bills, a dirty kitchen and unpaid rent waiting to be dealt with. 

But it's all good. 

All of it.

Hello, blog.

I haven't forgotten about you.

Really.