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Last Saturday night, while we were out for our weekend date, my husband informed me that he’d like to have a go at vegetarianism…and then he even said veganism.  He said this while we were munching a beef quesadilla, by the way, with our respective orders of chile relleno con queso and enchiladas mole fast approaching.

I was less surprised at his idea than you might think.  Only that afternoon, we’d read an article in the weekend Wall Street Journal about a nearly-vegan pro football player, Tony Gonzalez.  The story chronicled Gonzalez’ road to eliminating meat and dairy from his diet, what worked for his training and health, and what didn’t. 

Truth be told, my husband does not adore vegetables in the same way I do, so if one of us would decide to be a vegan (I was at various points in my impressionable youth, a vegetarian), it would probably be me.  Moreover, my family would eat meals based around vegetables, especially in the summer.  My husband did not grow up doing that.  To me, sitting down to a table covered in steamed corn, sliced tomatoes, and zucchini pancakes seems downright tantalizing.   

Cooking this way will be a challenge.  I’m going to avoid too much “faux” this and that, but I am willing to try meat and cheese substitutes to see which brands are acceptable.  I’ll chronicle our vegan adventures in following posts, but for right now let me just say that last night I found myself searing Italian-flavored soy sausages to go with our whole-wheat pasta and pesto.  I used fake parmesan cheese to make the pesto, I’m ashamed to say. It wasn’t hideous. It was pretty good.  All the other ingredients were real and fresh, right down to the basil, toasted pine nuts, garlic, and olive oil.  But I’m sure Mario Batali would have slapped my face had he been there.

By way of confession, I have no desire to eliminate meat and dairy completely from my diet, and haven’t.  Yesterday I ate two barbecued spare ribs for a mid-morning snack, quickly chased by a full-fat plum yogurt.  But I gladly enjoyed almond milk instead of organic two-percent.  Almond milk is totally delicious, if you haven’t tried it, much better mouth-feel than soy.

If ever I should fail at my lofty goal of snail farming, I’m thinking that a fun and lucrative enterprise might be a gourmet hot dog place.  When I say gourmet, I’m not fooling.  My idea is to make EVERYTHING the place sells from scratch.

Sound ambitious?  Well, I suppose it is.  But when I think of the peculiar culinary skill set I’ve had the chance to develop, it’s really not so crazy an idea.  If you look at my past blogs, you’ll see I already know how to make sauerkraut.  And my chili recipe is rockin’, if I may say so.  I also know how to bake bread, so we’re good on the buns as well. 

You may be saying to yourself, “What about the ketchup and mustard, smarty pants?”  It’s true I’ve never tried to make ketchup at home, but Jeffrey Steingarten gives detailed instructions in one of his books.  That should do, because he wouldn’t have published the recipe if it sucked.  As far as mustard goes, that’s a snap, but the key to it would be making a mustard that’s both unique and accessible to the palate of the average hot dog eater.  Onions?  I’ll grow them, or at least buy local and/or organic ones.  Relish?  I’ll put up the pickles myself and take it from there.

Last but not least, lurks the main matter, the hot dog itself.  I believe with perseverance, excellent equipment, and the best locally-raised pork that money can buy, I could make outrageously good hot dogs.  Oh, and I’d probably need a little smokehouse built, too, to give the dogs some extra nuance.  I happen to know of a farmer in my area that sells butchered hogs that are quite literally the best I’ve ever tasted.  Maybe he has the facility to pre-smoke the meat for me!

I’m getting very excited about my idea.  The snails might have to wait.  They’re good at that, though.  They’re never in a rush for anything.

My very generous boss Doreen treated us to a really lovely meal to celebrate the holidays and the six-month anniversary of Green Harvest Food Emporium, the place she owns and where I work.  She solicited our ideas about where we’d like to have dinner about a month and a half ago.  The general chatter was, “Why don’t we go somewhere we’ve all wanted to go but never have?”  Oddly enough, that’s a tall order to fill when you live in a fairly insular region and are trying to accomodate a bunch of foodies who have for years considered dining out their first choice for entertainment.

Doreen settled on Cavallo’s, a slightly mysterious villa I’ve passed by many times.  It’s considered more of an inn/event space.  It’s not quite a house, nor quite a hotel, and it’s not open regularly for dinner.  Nevertheless, the owner of Cavallo’s, Shirley, agreed to cook for us last Saturday night.  Doreen brought a selection of excellent wines along, and we arrived at Cavallo’s eagerly awaiting a special meal.

Much to our surprise, the space was open to only us that night.  The outside gate was closed after we entered the driveway.  Each table was impressively and expensively laid (a wedding was to happen there New Year’s Eve), but one was set aside for our party of six.  We settled in, all of us oohing and aahing over the odd yet grandiose surroundings.  The inside of Cavallo’s is largely an enchanting series of rooms and halls, decorated with amazing antiques and marble floors and staircases.  Shirley encouraged us to explore between courses, and thank heavens she did.  The meal she prepared was delicious, ENORMOUS, and the little walks in between were quite necessary.

Shirley began by serving us a roasted vegetable stack, a fabulous piece of homemade sausage, all accented by vin cotto.   Next came meltingly tender winter squash ravioli in a carmelized onion and muscat grape sauce.  The third course was prawns and langoustines in a lobster reduction, served with a butter-toasted baguette for scooping up the sauce.  And then came the entrees, where we all had a choice of dishes.  I chose the two-inch veal chop with demi-glace, which was just yummy.  But one of the funniest moments of the evening came when my husband’s entree was set before him.  He had chosen the half duck, which arrived in all its burnished, glazed glory on, no kidding, a PLATTER!   It was surrounded by whole roasted fruits and vegetables, easily enough food for three people.  Dessert was comparitively simple, but delicious, a fresh orange cake with lemon curd, strawberry coulis, and whipped cream.

So if you’re ever coming to Easton, PA, consider seeking out Cavallo’s on route 611.  If you’re lucky Shirley will let you in for dinner, and with advance notice you can stay in one of their suites for the night.  You’ll probably need to after the coma-inducing meal.

I cooked a really delicious dish to bring to a New Year’s Eve party.  It was inspired by a recipe that came in a pamphlet featuring beer as a cooking ingredient.  I rarely cook to recipes verbatim because it’s boring, and sometimes you just KNOW by looking at a recipe that it can be improved.  The dish I made is Shrimp in Habanero Cream Sauce with Carribean Yellow Rice. 

I started with a pound and half of 16/20 Gulf shrimp.  I peeled them completely, putting the shells into a saucepan as I went.  After deveining the shrimp, I laid them into a nine by thirteen baking dish, and covered them with three chopped garlic cloves, half a sliced yellow onion, and a bottle of beer.  I covered the dish with plastic wrap and put it in the fridge to marinate overnight.  In the saucepan of shells, I added a teaspoon of sea salt and two cups of water.  I brought it to a boil, and then simmered it for an hour.  I strained out the shells, and put the finished stock into the fridge until the next day. 

So cut to the next day…I pulled the shrimp from the marinade and discarded it.  In a large pot I prepared yellow rice (any good recipe will do, or a high-quality packaged one from Spain or Mexico).  While the rice cooked, I made the cream sauce.  In a saucepan, saute five chopped scallions in one tablespoon each of butter and olive oil.  Mince one or two dried habaneros, and add them to the pot.  Season with salt.  Sprinkle in a quarter cup of flour and cook to a light roux.  Zip the heat up to medium high and whisk in the reserved shrimp stock, two tablespoons of tequila, and one cup of heavy cream.  When the sauce is thickened and glossy, turn the heat to medium and add the shrimp.  Cook them until just opaque.  Turn off the heat and cover to keep warm.

When the rice is done cooking, stir in a good teaspoon of finely minced fresh lime zest and a couple tablespoons of fresh chopped cilantro.  Put it on a platter, and pour the sauce and shrimp on top.  Garnish with well-toasted coconut and a little more fresh cilantro.

The partygoers LOVED this dish, and I have to say it was pretty tasty.  It was fiery, yes, but that could easily be adjusted to your tastes by simply using less dried habanero.  This is a keeper.  Call it Camarones Crema de Habanero con Arroz and impress your friends!