Slow Smoked Leg of Lamb
It’s after Easter here in Massachusetts and the weather held out long enough this past Sunday to allow me a whole day of barbecuing. And since it’s after Easter that means there is a good amount of leftover lamb on sale.
It’s after Easter here in Massachusetts and the weather held out long enough this past Sunday to allow me a whole day of barbecuing. And since it’s after Easter that means there is a good amount of leftover lamb on sale.
I apparently can’t stick to just one hobby. Brewing, cider making, cooking, video games, occasional painting, (theoretical) woodworking, barbecue, and now the latest: cigars.
Whelp, that didn’t turn out as expected.
After about three months burping away in our little study in the depths of winter, my second round of ciders are, uh, complete. Insofar as they are complete failures. Mostly.
It’s been a few years and a few blogs since I’ve contributed to The Session, a roundup of writers expounding on a shared beer topic of the month.
Recently I decided to get back into making hard cider and figured this would be a good time to go over the basics of how it works. While a lot of purists will tell you only orchard-fresh, unpasteurized juice made from a blend of specifically cultured apples is the only way to “true” hard cider, a damn good drink can be made with regular store bought juice and a few techniques.
Cold miserable weekend? Check. Football consistently playing from the living room? Check. Cold beer in the fridge? Check. Well, guess the only thing missing is some chili.
Callah and Matt from the Tiny Acre in Woodstock, CT dropped off some awesome baby eggplants, so naturally I fired up the grill. I had some tomatoes as well, so I figured a quick tomato sauce over some pasta and some simple grilled chicken would round out the menu. Check out the video and the…
Barbecue is supposed to be simple. Make fire. Add meat. Wait. Eat. The rest are just bells and whistles to make what is essentially one of the first human examples of cooking just that little bit better. What really matters is technique, and understanding exactly what is happening to that meat.
I had seen this during one of my late night cat video hunts on Youtube, but didn’t realize it was as popular as it was. When I saw that one of these shops was opening right in my old neighborhood, I had to check it out.
Sour beer is a new frontier. Governed by forces that are as mysterious as they are fundamental. What causes different flavors in sour beer is widely unknown to the drinking public.
No, Brett isn’t the name of some bearded, flannelled brewer somewhere in the Pacific Northwest (although it probably is). It’s the nickname brewers have given to brettanomyces, a unique and still not completely understood genus of yeast that produces a set of flavors that, in some circles, are to be avoided at all costs.
A hot day in NYC on our “mini-moon” so some indoor, out of the sun, semi-air conditioned fun was in order. My preparatory Googling came up with Chelsea Market, and after about a few seconds of looking over what they had I knew this was going to be a blogging-rich environment.
One of the main things I was intent upon doing for our wedding was brewing the beers for it. And if you want to do the same, God help you.
Sour beer is, for me, the next great thing. It’s the new frontier, a view into a wide world of flavors that have only just begun to be discovered. It’s a beer style that needs to be sipped and appreciated and did you say NINE &*@%ING DOLLARS!?!!?!?
The beer bar of New York acclaim has opened a location down the street from where I work and I’m screwed. A converted old bank (in the Financial District? Who knew) with huge ceilings and a private room in what used to be the vault, Ginger Man has managed to adapt to the local aesthetic…