taco Tag

Overnight Taco Meat and Dripping Tortilla Non-recipe

This is an easy, and my first “non-recipe” that I’m leaving you with before heading off to Scotland on a hubby-forced whiskey tour.

What’s a non-recipe you ask.  Well, to my understanding, it means it’s a general guideline of techniques that one can use to adapt to a variety of ingredients.  In fact, I wasn’t really planning on publishing this as a post, as I was simply putting a random dinner together and mid-way through, thought that this is actually a great way of anxiety-free entertaining  so why not share it.

So essentially, blah blah blah, what I’m talking about is this.  You take a big hunk of fatty cut of meat, in this case, beef short ribs, but it could be pork belly, whole duck, ox tongue or whatever available in other marvelous circumstances.  Then you leave this hunk of meat alone in its marinate for a good 12 hours, in this case, a red wine concoction, but it could be whatever bath of flavors that you could humanly imagine.  Then the night before you serve, you wrap it in foil and throw it in utter abandonment inside a low-heat oven and then, you go to sleep.  The next morning, it is removed from the oven and left in neglect in room-temperature until two hours before your serve this baby, you take its insanely aromatic fat from the dripping to make a stack of beautiful flour tortilla before you return the meat back into a blazing oven, just briefly, until the exterior of the roast is gloriously caramelized and the interior is warmed through.  Chop chop chop with a big scissor and toss loosely and triflingly with mustard and pickled peppercorns, then salsa, hot sauce, nadi-nadi-nah, you know the drill.

I don’t feel like I need to explain to you what happens when a well-marinated fatty protein gets broken down low and slow inside its own rendered fat and dripping, and that liquid roast really, is recycled into the carbohydrate that’s going to be used to wrap the protein as a vehicle into your mouth.  I don’t.  I really don’t.

So as a token of gratitude, please leave in the comments of places where a pissed wife stuck with a drunk husband can go for a good haggis in Edinburgh.

Overnight Taco Meat Non-recipe

This being a "non-recipe" means that it's a general guideline/technique which you can adapt to many other types of proteins and marinates, as long as the protein of your choice has a good ratio of fat and is suitable for roasting. For example, instead of beef short ribs, you can use beef tongues, pork belly, or pork butt/shoulder, or fattier cuts of lamb. Marinate them however you see fit, and cook them and the tortilla the same way according to the instruction.

Ingredients

    SHORT RIBS AND MARINATE:
  • 3.5 lbs (1.5 kg) bone-in beef short ribs
  • 1 cup dry red wine
  • 1 small onion, roughly cut
  • 7 cloves of garlic
  • 3" (7.5 cm) rosemary sprig
  • 2 fresh bay leaves
  • 4 tbsp kosher salt
  • 1 tbsp fish sauce
  • 1/2 tbsp light brown sugar
  • 2 tsp pickling spice, or black peppercorns if unavailable
  • 5 tbsp Dijon mustard
  • 1 1/2 tsp pickled green peppercorns, drained and finely crushed
  • MEAT DRIPPING FLOUR TORTILLA:
  • 2 cups (250 grams) all-purpose flour
  • 4 tbsp (56 grams) fat from the dripping
  • 1 tsp light brown sugar
  • 3/4 tsp kosher salt
  • 1/2 cup + 2 tbsp (150 grams) warm water at 120 F/50 C

Instructions

  1. YOU NEED TO START ONE OR TWO DAYS BEFORE SERVING: When choosing short ribs, pick parts that has a good fat-slab covering the top surface. In a blender, blend red wine, onion, garlics, rosemary sprigs, bay leaves, kosher salt, fish sauce, light brown sugar and pickling spice (or black peppercorns) until smooth. Place the short ribs in a heavy-duty zip-lock bag and pour the marinate inside. Seal the bag, squeezing out as much air inside as possible, and give it a gentle, even rub. Place on a tray and inside the fridge for at least 12 or up to 24 hours.
  2. THE NIGHT BEFORE SERVING: One hour before you go to bed, preheat the oven on 215 F/100 C. Remove the short ribs from the marinate and wipe off any excess liquid all around. Place them on large sheets of triple-layered aluminum foil and rub 3 tbsp of Dijon mustard evenly on the entire surface. Bring the foil upward and tightly wrap the short ribs inside, then place on a baking sheet on the middle rack inside the oven, and slow-roast for 8 hours. This is when you go to sleep and completely forget about it.
  3. THE DAY OF SERVING: In the morning, take the baking sheet out of the oven, do not remove the foil, and just leave the whole thing at room-temperature.
  4. 2 hours before serving, remove the short ribs from the foils and place inside another baking sheet. Position nubs of foils underneath the ribs so that the top fat surface is facing upward, and cover with a plastic wrap. Collect all drippings from the roasting pan and inside the foil into a bowl. You should have a thick layer of fat floating on top of some roasting juice. Skim off the fat from the juice, and keep both in separate bowls.
  5. MAKE THE TORTILLA: In a large bowl, mix AP flour, 4 tbsp of the fat from the dripping, light brown sugar, kosher salt and warm water (120 F/50 C water would be 2 cups of water microwaved on high for 1 minute, or the hottest tap water). Knead vigorously for 5 minutes until a sticky and elastic dough forms. Divide the dough into 16 equal portions, and roll it in between your palms into a smooth ball, dusting with a little flour as needed to prevent sticking. Cover with plastic wrap and let rest for 30 minutes.
  6. Heat a flat skillet over medium heat. Roll the ball out into an extremely thin, flat disk. Toast on the skillet, flipping a couple times, until both sides are spotted with brown spots and puffy. Repeat with the rest. Cover with a towel to keep warm until needed.
  7. 45 minutes before serving, preheat the oven on 450 F/230 C. Remove the plastic wrap and roast the short ribs in the middle rack of the oven for 10~15 minutes until the exteriors are browned and the interiors are warmed through. Remove the bone and place the meats inside a large bowl, add the remaining 2 tbsp of Dijon mustard and pickled green peppercorns, and the reserved roasting juice. Use a large scissor to cut the meat into random big and small pieces, then toss evenly.
  8. Serve the taco meat with the meat dripping tortilla, along with your favorite salsa and hot sauces. This kiwi salsa verde recipe, http://ladyandpups.com/2015/03/25/jerked-sriracha-roast-pork-tacos-w-kiwi-salsa-verde, for your consideration.
http://ladyandpups.com/2019/06/25/overnight-taco-meat-and-dripping-tortilla-non-recipe/
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THE WORLDLY PULLMAN-TORTILLA TACOS

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IS IT,

LET’S EAT NOW AND KILL EACH OTHER LATER?

What has this world come to?  Or, all along, this is how we always have been?

I know.  This is a food blog, rainbows and marshmallows and summer noodle salads.  Politics, world affairs… are not palatable, instead, I should be talking about pumpkin pies.  But you see, this is the thing.  Talking about foods, in a time like this.  How can we, so at ease, not taste the irony between the bettering tolerance for flavours on our dining tables, and the boiling hostility on just about everything beyond?  Food-wise, in the history of mankind, the world has never come so open-minded, so intimately close to sharing and tasting the very same beliefs that are being enjoyed from the other side of the map.  We can all agree on the cold silkiness of a piece of raw fish on a small nub of tangy rice.  The cool creaminess of hummus meandering around the sizzling spiced kebabs.  The good funk of cheese melting into the chewiness of a hand-torn crusty baguette.  A sip of wine.  It registers the same.  The contentment in common.  The smile radiating from our torsos.  Ah, yes, that wonder you’re tasting over there, I’m feeling it right here too, understanding, happy-ing, at the same time, over the same things.  How is it that we could relate so much in happiness, and yet, empathise so little in suffering.  Can we really talk about foods, without thinking about politics?  Or is it, let’s eat now and kill each other later?

Really bad things happened in Paris.  Here we all mourned, in shock, in disbelief, compassionate.  Meanwhile, the exact same really bad things, just as bad, sometimes worse, happens not that far away almost every week on that side, perhaps your side, stacking up silently like morning pancakes.  Beirut 3 days ago, Ankara last month, other cities of dwindling lights.  But… that was just inks on newspapers, no hashtags in its grief.  Has even my sympathy, where I decide to spare it, become part of the problems?  Why is it only you and I, yours and mine, and nothing in between?  We’re all micros teeming on a speck of dust in this universe, but somehow, we still manage to divide beyond our means, to sever what is better as one, to split the atoms.  I don’t.  Wanna.  Exist like this.

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JERKED SRIRACHA ROAST PORK TACOS W KIWI SALSA VERDE

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 WHY CAN’T WE ALL JUST BEHAVE LIKE TACOS?

I don’t know, if there was any other single food-item in this world that, in the best sense possible, welcomes manipulations as much as say, tacos.

I mean think about it.  In this world where the not-so-secret food-police who enforces the law of authenticity, still patrols much of the way we perceive and evaluate what and how we eat, this iconic Mexican establishment seems to be freely, and deliciously if I might add, looming well outside of its strict jurisdiction.  They have applaudedly gone over and beyond their traditional origins, shown more adaptability and dare I say, humour, that’s unbound by the narrowness of ethnicity without muss or fuss.  How does it do it?  This means, to me at least, more than eating.  If you just take a look at this mad house we’re all living under now – where you can’t cook a pot of bolognese sauce without turning some Italian nonna in her graves, or enjoy any other blurred out version of mapo tofu without stepping on some bitches’ toes (who me?), or fucking crack a joke without hate – it would appear that, fingers crossed, the modern tacos are practically a beacon for social miracles.  This is not me saying pure authenticity, in food or anything else, is bad, nor is it good.  I guess, it’s only natural, a mean for us to identify with something, to belong, to cling onto a place in this world where we could find familiarity, call it pride, then do things to defend it.  But here we are stuck, on this globe that we were told is supposed to be getting smaller and smaller by the days, and inherently for the same reason, more and more hostile by the minute.  Diehard authenticity can taste more intolerant than delicious.  And I mean that in a lot more ways than foods.  So I guess here’s my question:

Why can’t we all just behave like tacos?

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VIETNAMESE Chả Cá FISH TACO

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WE FOUND OUR WEAKENED FOOTSTEPS AT ITS TURQUOISE COLORED DOORWAY

THE official statement is, that like all other celebratory spirits who paint golden eggs on Easter, play Frank Sinatra on X’mas and wash their faces with Buffalo wings on Superbowl, we the family of forever-festivity, ate tacos on Cinco de Mayo and danced to a whirlpool of margaritas this past Sunday.

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