Stop Thinking Outside the Box

We refer to cars we don't like the look of as boxy. We tell people to think outside the box when they're being dull and boring. Where's all this box negativity coming from? When it comes to wine, it's time to turn away from box hatred and embrace a greener package: the wine box. Foodbuzz kindly set me up with a box of Black Box Sauvignon Blanc, and I have to say the box makes perfect sense for this drinkable, basic, dry wine made from New Zealand grapes.

The secret to box wine isn't really the box, it's the mylar bladder. The liquid is packaged in an air-impermeable plastic bladder with a nozzle. The bag prevents spoilage because, as you drain it, it's deflating shape conforms to the contents perfectly without allowing air in. Bottles can't do that, unless you fill them up with glass pebbles... and we all know how much of a pain that can be.

That means you never have airspace, so you get much less spoilage, less waste, and pretty much always have something to serve stashed in your fridge. The wine doesn't last indefinitely, but it lasts long enough to make the lack of traditional packaging well worth it. The box holds 3 liters, so you get 4 bottles worth in one package. The packaging ensures that, once opened, the wine will survive under refrigeration for at least the length of time it would take you to get through 4 bottles, and at about $6.25 per bottle, that's hard to beat.

About the Beverage

The Black Box wine is a highly produced commercial affair, and as a result, doesn't have a lot of character. There's no terroir in the box, if you will, but no scary surprises either. It's perfectly drinkable, pleasant and refreshing on a hot afternoon. It has a lot of acid, some floral aromas, and no residual sugar that I could detect, making it an acceptable pairing with casual food or on it's own as the sun drops behind the horizon from a vantage point your local green space.

I'm not going to say that Black Box rivals the finest Sauvignon Blancs produced in Bordeaux, but it's not trying to, and the wine is certainly none the worse for being transported in an earth-friendly box as opposed to a traditionally packaged rival. In short, the quality of the wine is good enough to serve at a picnic lunch in the park or at your sunset backyard BBQ party without a moment's hesitation... it's floating far above Franzia in terms of quality, the other box wine. But would I serve it with sixty dollar per pound Dover sole flown in from the white cliffs? Not likely.

Mineral Oil's Mysteries

Mineral oil is one of those kitchen oddities: as far back as I can remember my mother has admonished me to "feed" my wooden cutting boards and utensils with the stuff. I'm not sure if it's feeding anything, but it is good at preserving, and just as importantly, sure makes them look good.

So, what is mineral oil anyway? Is it food? Is it natural? I wondered why it was called mineral oil; are there any minerals in it? And why people eat it, rub it on metal to prevent rust as well as all over their babies (baby oil is just scented mineral oil) to prevent diaper rash?

Firstly, It Comes from the Ground, But It's Not Natural

Mineral oil, contrary to it's nutritional-sounding name, is a by-product of petroleum distillation. And there are no minerals in it. The term mineral has been attached to this colorless, flavorless and non-reactive lube because of it's origins. Crude oil is found among subterranean rocks--you know--like minerals.

Mineral oil is definitely not food, but because it's non-reactive and indigestible, but it's also not inedible. Think of mineral oil as a hitchhiker that's just passing through the honky tonk town that is your body. It'll go to the saloon, end up in jail, but only stay there until morning. Or you can think of it as vaseline, but runny. They're actually very close from a chemical perspective, as is paraffin, which may be starring in a candle near you.

Fire Eaters, Sufferers of The Grip, and Sugar-Crazed Children

Mineral oil can't be absorbed by the body, so if your guts are bound up from drinking creek water or taking too much Vicadin, sucking down a tablespoon or two can help get things moving. And I mean that in the most literal of senses...think about an orange inside a nylon sock. Now think about an orange in a nylon sock but covered with mineral oil. See? That's what happens, roughly.

If you don't like the idea of ingesting a petroleum distillate, and I don't either mind you, you should also stop eating that nice shiny candy you just bought. Some soft gummy candies are made with mineral oil as an ingredient, and some are just coated with it to create a nice sheen. Bleh.

Fire eaters use mineral oil on their crazy batons because it burns at a low temperature, but simultaneously has a very high flashpoint, meaning it won't light unexpectedly by simply coming into contact with a flame like gas or kerosene would. And it's not poisonous, of course, so it's perfectly safe for fire eating. Whew!

What About Wood?

Yes, you should use mineral oil on wooden utensils. For one thing, it repels water, so it can help to seal out moisture and the bacteria that would enjoy bathing in it. By making your wooden stuff a bit more water repellent, they may also last a bit longer, too.

Finally, it brings out the natural grain in wood, which in turn makes you feel like you're more at one with nature as you microwave your teriyaki bowl and adjust your hearing aid so you can listen to Fred on YouTube more clearly. So yes, mineral oil deserves a place under the sink, just remember to take it out and apply to your wooden boards and utensils every few months.

Indulge in a Classic Negroni with Special Red Vermouth

Nothing says summer sunset like a chilled, sophisticated and delicious Negroni cocktail. It's got a refreshing bitter bite, a citrus sparkle from fresh orange, and a heady blend of aromatics from the gin and sweet vermouth that never fails to refresh before dinner.

The Negroni is built on a platform of three complex flavor families, one of which is bitterness contributed by Campari. I'm a big fan of bitter liqueurs like Campari, Cinzano, and Cynar. Bitter liqueurs are described more fully in this post, but basically, they're alcohols steeped with enigmatic herbal blends. The recipes are often closely-held secrets (as it is for Campari) and bitters were often originally developed for medicinal purposes or digestive aids.

The Negroni
This classic gin cocktail is bursting with infused herbal flavors. Comprising gin, Campari and red vermouth (all infused alcohols, though sweet–or red–vermouth is infused wine), the Negroni's bursting with resinous juniper berry, caraway, and all of the mysterious herbs secreted into the proprietary gin, Campari and vermouth recipes.

Which Gin?
Gin comes in several styles, but because the Negroni contains so many other herbal notes, I like to keep the gin classic and simple. It's not the starring ingredient the way it would be in a martini, so using a top quality, very distinct gin like Junipero, Lot 209 or Hendricks would be like using extra virgin olive oil for frying. If you're loaded with cash, go ahead and indulge, but I think you can go with a solid standby like Bombay Saphire. If you want to try this but can't stand gin, you can subsitute for vodka.

Which Red Vermouth?
When it comes to red vermouth, everyone thinks about that green bottle with the old school label. Of course, I'm referring to Martini & Rossi. But I think this brand is the weakest link. The secret to a superb Negroni is to switch up the sweet vermouth for Punt E Mes (pictured above). Punt E Mes is chocately and syrupy with a dense mouthfeel and dark, rich flavor and color. Unlike Martini & Rossi, you can't see through Punt E Mes when you hold it up to the light. It's about $20, and you can find it in specialty wine shops or online.

The Negroni Recipe
1.5 oz Gin
1.5 oz Vermouth
1.5 oz Punt E Mes

Shake over cracked ice and serve in a chilled tumbler over more cracked ice with an orange wheel as garnish.

Kick Ass Smokey Pork Shoulder, Made Inside on a Rainy Day

In these days of wintery wet days (at least in my corner of the world) as well as a rapidly shrinking meat budget, doing pork shoulder inside has become more than wishful thinking: it's become an anti-downturn salve to the soul.

The Why of Pork Shoulder
Pork shoulder is relatively inexpensive, very flavorful, and blissfully simple to make. The only problem with doing inside, in fact, is that I'm in love with that smokey charcoal flavor I get by grilling it outside. But since it's been raining for days on end, I was driven to alternate means, and it turned out pretty well. Here's what I came up:

The How
Buy a 2-pound pork shoulder and season liberally with salt and pepper. Next, find a heavy, oven-safe high-sided pot-with-lid that will provide a pretty tight fit for your pork. Add a little flavorless, heat resistant oil like grapeseed or highly refined canola.

Next, crank your stovetop to medium high and wait until the pot is fully energized. Once up to searing-temp, induce a nice rich brown on all six sides (if the piece you have is cube-shaped enough to be able to do all six). Return it to a rimmed plate or shallow bowl.

Let it cool quietly on some desolated part of your kitchen counter where it will be undisturbed as you prepare for the next phase: the rub!

Here's the Rub
While the shoulder loses energy, make the spice blend. I put all of this into shallow bowl that allows me to mix the spices and also coat the pork.

1 tablespoon of ground, smoked paprika,
1 teaspoon of sugar
1 teaspoon of salt
1 teaspoon of dried oregano
1 teaspoon of ground tumeric
1 teaspoon of ground cumin.
Several grinds of black pepper
Ground cayenne to taste (I like about 1/4 tsp)

Optionally, you can add coriander and crushed garlic.

Rubbed the Right Way
The rub is where you can tinker as much or as little as you like, but make sure you've got at minimum the salt and smoked paprika if you want to replicate some of that grilled, smokiness. Granted, it's not really going to taste grilled (though you could experiment with liquid smoke), but it will have a smokey depth that I personally love, and the red color doesn't hurt.

Get the rub together, and once the meat has cooled enough to handle, coat it thoroughly on all sides. If you have trouble with the rub adhering, coat your pork with a tiny bit more flavorless oil.

Re-Pot and Fire It Up
Now comes the tricky part. Return the pork to the tighly fitting pot you used to do the sear and cover the meat with enough tinfoil to create a pretty tight seal over the pork, making sure to fill up the gaps around the meat as much as possible. You're looking for a dome of foil that leaves as little airspace as you can around the pork. These close quarters will allow steam from the pork to remain in close proximity to the pork and assist with the braising process. You may think I'm just making this up, but for real, Madeleine Kamman taught me this trick and it really works!

Next, cover the pot with it's oven-safe lid (on top of the tinfoil, which will be lower down in the pot) and put the entire contraption in a slow oven (about 325 degrees) for 1.5 hours. Once the initial time is up, flip the shoulder, replace the foil, and go again for another hour. The flipping, while a pain, ensures that one side doesn't dry out. Don't fiddle with the meat during the flip...just flip, recover with foil and the lid and return to the oven as fast as possible.

Once the hour is up, check out your pork and see how 'falling apart' it has actually gotten. If the texture isn't right, keep cooking until it is.

The Shredder or Whatever...
Once you pull it out of the oven, let it rest and cool for a while, transfer the meat to a plate and shred it or prep it in whatever way makes sense for what you're doing (I use it to add to bean dishes or for burritos or just on it's own with some sauteed vegetables, so shredding is usually what I do.)

You'll notice that there's a lot of nicely flavored and beautifully colored liquid left in the pot, along with a huge layer of fat. Degrease as best you can and return as much of the remaining liquid to the meat without drowning it...there's a lot of tasty gelatin and spices in there, so don't waste it!

That's it! Since this recipe requires some tending, it's a perfect one for a quiet afternoon at home on a rainy day. Personally, I like to run a couple of old movies in the background, make some rice and beans and do this pork shoulder. But you could also break this recipe up into phases and cut down your stay at home time, though I never recommend leaving an oven untended.

More About Sweet Lime, Courtesy a Reader

This illuminating note and great photos from an intrepid reader who went to India, ate the fruit, and happened across the Sweet Lime posting here. Thanks for your note and photos, Dave!


"I was in India in November for about 10 days. I was introduced to sweet lime there and fell in love with it. It is mildly flavored and yet full-flavored at the same time. The best way that I can describe it is if you had an orange with no orange flavor but still robust and sweet. At the hotels I stayed at they served slices of sweet lime as well as sweet lime juice and a mixture of orange and sweet lime juice, which was heavenly. The sweet lime juice that I had was pure juice, no sugar added, according to the hotel staff. They fresh-squeezed it at the hotels. I’ve attached a few pictures that I took when I was there. The plate picture shows some pieces of sweet lime flesh that were cut up and served in a breakfast fruit buffet in Hyderabad, India. The sweet lime is at the top. The other fruits on the plate are papaya and pineapple. The containers show sweet lime juice in a dispenser as served at a hotel in Agra, India. The street picture shows a vendor in Agra selling sweet limes and sweet lime juice. Note the juicer on the left and the glasses. I never had the courage to try anything from a street vendor because I feared getting sick, but it was tempting.

Sincerely,

Dave Johnson"