Tuesday, October 23, 2012

Jungle Cat Short Rib Mac and the Claque's Mac Off!

The Story
Winners' Circle!

It's no secret: we love good cocktails. One of our favorite neighborhood haunts is Huckleberry Bar. They have an amazing spicy tequila cocktail ("The Sampogna"), friendly bartenders who actually know our names (and high-five us.... and give us shots... and maybe think we're crazy), and their food smells amazing. 

During a post-work cocktail, we noticed that they were hosting a a macaroni and cheese cook-off. Of course, we decided to enter (i.e., we sent in a last-minute entry request weeks after official entry had closed, and sent enough emoticon-laden emails that they allowed us in).

Flash forward to this weekend: we buy a ton of cheese, and we make a plan, and then, life happened. Well, our cluster-f*ck dinner party happened, and J fell victim to the weekend work plague. After Saturday's festivities, J arose and made it in to work by 8am, where she slumped over her desk, wrote a memo, and reassessed whether being a corporate lawyer was truly worth it. I slept in, called J to ascertain that we were really doing it, and went to buy the remaining ingredients.



I began braising the short ribs on the stove, and boiling a huge pot of water for our 3 pounds of orecchiette, and slicing shallots to caramelize (so annoying, but so worth it), and began making the bechamel. However, I was a bit off kilter, and wasn't quite up to measuring- I essentially just decided to use everything we bought, working under the assumption that more cheese = more better. 

Important Lesson #1: As long as it tastes good, you can salvage almost any cooking disaster.

Well, I went to combine the orecchiette and shredded cheese and bechamel, and it was a disaster. A lumpy, weirdly colored, gluey mess (albeit a delicious-tasting clumpy mess). I texted J, who was on her way to buy aluminum pans and then return to the apartment: "This is a disgusting disaster, it's so gross I am crying with laughter." J called:

J: Ummmm. So?
K: It's so..... (dissolves into laughter)
J: Kristin, stop it. You're cackling, I can't understand you. Stop!
K: Ok, ok (still laughing). I think we need to thin out the bechamel... (more laughing).
J: Kristin! Should I buy more supplies?
K: We don't have time, I am going to shower, because I reek of butter, and when you get here, let's reassess the situation.

J's assessment upon arrival: "I don't know what to do. They didn't have aluminum plans, and this is.... it's not, we are just not doing it." If only the "Julian has to take a tequila shot whenever she says anything negative" rule had extended to Sunday...

Well, I thinned out the bechamel, she shredded the braised short ribs and adjusted the seasoning, and we re-established our resolve to enter, and more, importantly win.

Important Lesson #2: Entering cook-offs = an amazing way to feel completely validated!

We got there, and.... people thought we were awesome! There was definite buzz about our "Jungle Cat Short Rib Mac." 

Even though ***none*** of our friends made it (several had work, Better Schmidt had a Tough Mudder, Tammiest got lost by going to Grand in Manhattan and not Brooklyn, and Truppman got impatient while waiting in line and left), we managed to get third:

Our lovely prize (we didn't know there was a prize).

We felt very good about our win, as we only missed second by one vote (and we're not holding it against our friends), and some professionals were competing. People even asked us if we had a restaurant (it's pretty awkward to reply: "Um, we are both lawyers..."). Having several hundred people tell you how phenomenal/ awesome/ delicious your cooking is can send your self-confidence sky-rocketing and convince you that competitive cook-offs should be your next new hobby (which they will be).

One of our favorite HB bartenders, "The Est," high-fived us and gave us celebratory shots, and then we went home to celebrate with some sparkling rose while J finished reviewing a work memo (boo, corporate law). Our celebration may or may not have ended with nonsensical texting about bacon and rom-coms, and some interpretive flashlight dancing, but we made some new friends, and have a new hobby!

The Food

We combined our two favorite macaroni and cheese recipes, added a few twists, and came up with a macaroni and cheese composed of a cheddar and goat cheese bechamel, orecchiette, and braised and shredded short ribs, topped with carmelized shallots and a layer of crumbled goat cheese. It was delicious and complex and VERY cheesey. 

We made a huge amount to give approximately 200 people samples (we ran out before the end), but here is what we did:

Step One: Braise short ribs. Brown short ribs in bottom of large pot (we used a little over 4 pounds).   Season lightly with salt and pepper. When both sides have been browned, add bay leaves, and add enough red wine and beef stock to cover the ribs. Cover the pot, and simmer on low (just barely bubbling), for about three hours, when the beef should be falling off the bone.

Step Two: Boil water. No explanation needed. Just make sure you have enough water for the pasta.

Step Three: Caramelize shallots. Cut up a TON of shallots. I thinly about six cups total (they cook down like crazy). I used about 3 tablespoons of butter, plus a touch of olive oil, and added salt and pepper to taste. I cooked at a higher heating, stirring every 2-3 minutes, for about 20 minutes, then set the heat setting down to low to let the shallots sit and finish, stirring every ten minutes, until the topping was needed. 

Step Four: Make the bechamel. I started with about 16 tablespoons of butter (maybe more, but I had trouble following directions and keeping track of things). I melted it down until it started to brown, then slowly shook in about 3/4 cup of flour in 3 batches, making sure to stir and combine completely between additions. After the roux had cooked for a bit, I started adding in half and half. I added in about 7 and 1/2 cups total, making sure to combine completely and bring almost to a boil in between addition. If you don't want to have our cluster-f*ck experience, you should add about another 3-4 cups of milk after the half and half to ensure that the bechamel can handle the cheese without becoming gluey or clumpy. After you have stirred in all of the milk and half and half, add in about 1 cup of crumbled goat cheese and 3/4 cup of grated pecorino romano, and stir until smooth. Season to taste with salt, pepper, and cayenne pepper.

Step Five: Cook the pasta. We used 3 pounds of orecchiette, but you could use any other kind. Cook, and drain, according to directions

Step Six: Combine. AND FIX.  Put the pasta back in the cooking pot. We used five 16 ounce bags of shredded cheddar for our mac, but if you wanted it to have a more specific flavor profile, you could shred your own favorite cheese for use. Sprinkle the grated cheese on top of cooked pasta and stir to combine. Pour on the bechamel, which should still be very hot, and stir to combine and melt the cheese in the bechamel. If needed, thin the sauce with milk (we needed to, but we didn't add milk after the half and half). Drain the short ribs, pull the meat off of the bones, shred, and stir into the pasta and sauce mixture.

Step Seven: Top and broil. Pour the pasta, cheese and meat combination into two very large pans. Thinly spread the caramelized shallots on top of the macaroni and cheese, making a complete layer of shallots. Crumble goat cheese on top of the shallots (we used about 3 and 1/2 cups for our two pans). Broil for approximately 5 -10 min, until goat cheese starts to brown. 

Julian serving up some "Jungle Cat Short Rib Mac."

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