I’ve been using the sous-vide as regularly as I can. The friend who introduced me to the sous-vide, Anne, called The Splendid Table last week to ask what she could do with fresh bay leaves, so now I’m two degrees of separation from Garrison Keillor.
I’ve tried some new recipes. Of the many sous-vide resources, the best so far has been Will It Sous-Vide, written by Claire Lower, who refers to her boyfriend as “ofClaire” ala The Handmaid’s Tale, and it’s been nice seeing you here, bye for now while you visit over there. She sous-vides Hot Pockets and turkey legs. It’s delightful.
Grits.
Not what I would have expected to be my favorite, but after three hours my Old Fashioned grits tasted like they took a slow bus up from Nashville and ate butter sandwiches the whole way.
Scrambled eggs. They came out a little soupy, even after 30-45 minutes. And I know, scrambled eggs should take less than five minutes, and I even did a final sear as you would for a steak because I didn’t trust the egg whites. Was it worth it? Best eggs ever. Beat the Starbucks eggs by far.
Frozen chicken. It did indeed thaw when I extended the cooking time by 50%. But it had some slight – very slight – strangeness of texture. Gary didn’t notice it. It encouraged me to try a frozen butterfly pork chop which was insanely good, like, $17 restaurant pork chop good. I can’t tell you what Gary thought because I made it and ate it while he slept because I knew I’d have to sear it after, and that produces smoke, and that produces an interrogation.
My heart failed me on two of my attempts, pudding and brisket.
Pudding. I cooked it for hours, I refrigerated it, I popped the vacuum seal, I jiggled it. I took a bite. I jiggled it again. The jiggle was suspect. I took another tiny bite. Some deep innate caveman voice said “Don’t eat that.” I can’t really explain what turned me against the pudding, or if the pudding had turned itself, but down the drain it went.
Brisket. This was the one that called for FIVE DAYS OF BRINING and then TWO DAYS OF COOKING. I ended up doing seven days of brining, and then … I just couldn’t. I worried about the temperature stability of the garage fridge where I done the brining. I pictured all the little microbes climbing up on the brisket and diving off. So instead I pulled out my old slow cooker recipe and stupidly doubled the cook time. It was awful. I mean, it was fine after we smothered it in barbecue sauce once and gravy another time, but it was so overcooked the $25 brisket shriveled down to six servings.
I need to skip the brine and toss a chuck roast in there. That only takes a day.
Bottom Round, Revisited. Editing this post to add that I cooked bottom round at 135 degrees for 24 hours instead of 180 for 8 hours and it is completely different. Well, duh, know, but this wasn’t a rare round steak, it really tastes like a less fatty prime rib. It’s amazing. I gave Gary a bite, and when he wandered out twenty mintues later it was all gone. As we know, you gotta eat that sous vide stuff immediately.You snooze, you lose, no sous.