Adventures Down Under: Cooking Kangaroo

It all started at the meat counter.

Well, the meat counter at St. Lawrence Farmer's Market, to be honest. J and I were browsing through the various vendors, pausing to look into the display cases as we chatted. Most of the fare was pretty standard: bright red slabs of beef ribeye, rows of marinaded and stuffed chicken breasts, and pale rounds of pork tenderloin. The selection is plentiful, and a couple vendors also sell some less common offerings, namely, game meats: bison striploin, rack of venison. But one counter in particular caught our eye.

This particular butcher imports some pretty exotic stuff. Well, exotic to me at least: camel, wild boar, ostrich (though I'm aware you can buy emu from a local farm just outside Calgary). J and I looked at the meat. We looked at each other. I don't know who came up with the idea first, but the question hung in the air:

What if we tried to cook one of these meats? What if we tried to cook, say... kangaroo?

At first we balked and laughed as we walked away. But the idea was there, and suddenly it didn't seem like such an impossibility. Half an hour later, we'd agreed that we'd at least try it out, and made plans to try it out the next week. In the end, we had to wait two weeks for the next shipment to come in, and then we were off on our Australian adventure.

I did do some research online about how to cook kangaroo. Sadly, the information seems a little sparse, and what little I could find seemed somewhat non-specific. A few sites suggested I import Australian marinade. Others just vaguely indicated that I should marinade in "Australian flavors". A couple sites had some recipes, where I figured that they were treating the kangaroo the same way they would any other red meat. The only consensus was that since kangaroos are a game meat, not to cook it past medium rare (would that even be possible if you bought ground kangaroo?).

The big day arrived. We stood nervously at the counter, and a butcher with a friendly smile came to help us.

"We want to cook kangaroo," we declared. "We have no idea what we're doing."

The butcher was pretty patient with us. He asked if we'd rather cook the ground kangaroo (apparently very versatile, one of the few recipes I found was from Emeril Lagasse, and he made kangaroo pie-- by pie, he really means dumplings though) or the loin. We went with the loin, because really, who doesn't love a good, thick piece of meat? He gave us some suggestions for a marinade (apparently regular BBQ sauce would work just fine), and reminded us not to overcook it or it would get tough. Just under a pound of kangaroo meat cost us $20. J claimed it looked like liver.

In the end, this is the marinade I came up with. Measurements are approximate, since I really just poured things in randomly and hoped for the best.

1/4 cup red wine
2 sprigs fresh rosemary
2-3 tablespoons soy sauce
3 cloves of garlic, sliced
pepper
(I'd also throw in some crushed red pepper flakes next time)
1 tablespoon olive oil

After thawing the meat, we let it marinate for about 2 hours in the fridge.

Then, we stuck it into a 400 F oven for just over 20 minutes, and the meat came out slightly more rare than medium rare. The entire time we were preparing the meat, J let out some sounds of distress. I guess I sympathize. When I was trying to figure out how to cook the kangaroo, I read somewhere that kangaroos have to be left wild. Apparently they can't be farmed because herding them causes them to keel over and die from fear. That piece of knowledge seemed rather depressing.

In the end the marinade and the cooking method both worked out. We had some braised swiss chard and steamed rice for side dishes; the chard was a particularly good choice since it's earthy flavor really stood up to the taste of the kangaroo. The truth is, both J and I sat looking at our plates in silence for a long time before we worked up the nerve to try it. I was terrified it was actually going to taste like liver.

Kangaroo, it turns out, has a texture similar to most red meats. J's roommate and her boyfriend said it was more tender and juicier than beef (though that might have been more of the cooking method than the truth of kangaroo). Even though it was extremely lean, it wasn't very chewy; I also tried a small piece that had fallen off the main loin and ended up cooking faster, but that wasn't especially chewy either. The taste is definitely gamy, and somewhat musky. Oddly, it did remind me vaguely of liver, although that might have been because J kept insisting it looked like liver earlier. It definitely didn't taste like anything I've ever had before; you'll have to try it for yourself to know for sure.




Overall, it wasn't unpleasant, and I'm glad we ended up trying it. Next time, I'd like to try a marinade that compensated a little more for the gaminess of the meat. I'd eat kangaroo again, but it wouldn't be my first choice on the menu.

The Turkey Misadventure

I don't eat a lot of turkey, except MAYBE at Thanksgiving. At Christmas, my family usually does some kind of roast (roast beef, roasted leg of lamb, etc.). Furthermore, I've never been the kind of person who sees turkey as an exciting substitute for chicken, or likes turkey burgers. I've never even tried turkey bacon (can anyone who has tried both tell me if it tastes remotely similar to the real thing?). Nevertheless, one of my recent goals has been to learn to cook non-holiday turkey. This of course means cooking a turkey part, rather than the whole bird, and my first project was to master the turkey breast.

By the way, I'm sorry for all the random rotation on my images. I can't figure out how to fix it yet.

For the prep
I spent: $10
Ingredients: 2.5/5
Before I moved, I could never find bone-in turkey breast at the store. After I moved, I was able to find it, but the truth is, most supermarkets don't seem to always have it. This is probably because most people like boneless meat these days (it's getting harder to find bone-in chicken breast too). Then I went to the farmer's market on Saturday (one of my favourite places to visit back home AND in Toronto) and l0 and behold: turkey breast! Everywhere! With the bone-in, and of the 5-6 lb variety described in the book! But, I did have to go out of my way to find it in abundance. Furthermore, it was the most expensive item by far: over $7 for a piece that was about 700 g.
Everything else was pretty easy to find except all-spice berries. In the end I gave up and just used ground allspice.

Cooking
I used the recipe from foodie Ted Allen's book, "The Food You Want To Eat". I adore this book, mostly because I adore Ted Allen (B can attest to my squeals of joy anytime he appears on the Food Network). I didn't make the chutney he recommended with the recipe, but I followed the brining procedures. I halved his recipe, because my turkey breast was less than 2 lbs, and the recipe was recommended for up to 6 lbs.

You'll need:
Water
1/4 c. salt
1/4 c. honey
half a head of garlic
3 sprigs fresh thyme (which I didn't have so I used dried rosemary)
2 bay leaves
1 tsp black peppercorns
1 tsp allspice berries (which I substituted with ground allspice)
1/4 c. white wine
1/4 c. celery leaves (I plucked them off the celery I had in the fridge)
1 tbsp margarine/butter
Your turkey breast

The first step is to brine the turkey breast. People have told me about brining and the wonders it's supposed to do for meat texture and flavour, so I've really been wanting to try this out.

Take your salt, thyme, bay leaves, peppercorns, allspice, garlic, and honey and combine them in a small saucepan. I couldn't figure out if I should take the peel off the garlic or not, so I left it on. Add enough water to cover halfway up the garlic. Bring the mixture to a simmer, stirring to dissolve the salt.
This was where I went wrong first. When I made the brine, it was 11 PM, and I was dead tired. Without reading the recipe I added the wine to the mixture at this point. Don't do this, the flavours changes just slightly, and it makes your kitchen (and in my case, the entire apartment) smell like fermenting alcohol. Also, keep an eye on your mixture. Mine didn't slowly start to simmer and then come to a happy roll: I turned around to put away the honey, and when I looked back an unhappy brown froth was threatening the edge of my pot. Bad news. It looked and smelled weird.


Stick the pot into the fridge, let it cool for about 30 minutes. The book recommends using ice cubes to help the process, but I have no ice tray to make ice cubes, so I just left in the fridge for a little longer. Meanwhile, take your turkey breast and fit it snugly into a large pot or bowl. Pour your chilled mixture over it. Add the celery leaves and wine. Add enough cold water so that it covers the meat. Put it into the fridge overnight.

When you're ready to cook the turkey the next day, take it out and dry it a little. Pre-heat your oven to 400 F. Brush or spoon the 1 tbsp of margarine (melted) over the skin and put it in a V-rack in a pan. A V-rack is an adjustable metal rack shaped, surprise surprise, like a V that you can buy at most department stores; it's shape holds up whatever you're cooking and allows the grease and fat to drip off the meat and into the pan below. For this reason, don't forget to line your pan with some foil for easy clean up.

Here's where things got tricky for me. The recipe was for a big piece of meat; mine was almost 3 times smaller than the cited bird, so obviously I would need to make some changes. No one cooked turkey exactly the way Ted Allen does, so the internet was no help. This is actually the second time I've tried this and the first time I overcooked the thing. This time, under my dad's advice, I stuck the bird in for 10 minutes at 400 F to sear the skin. At this point I set off my fire alarm, probably because the grease was smoking in the oven and had filled my apartment. This resulted in frantically opening the window (thankfully it wasn't too cold out) and fanning the alarm.
I reduced the temperature to 350 F and cooked for another 20 minutes. This was not sufficient: the meat near the bone was not cooked. I stuck it in for another 10 minutes, but even so, I ended up eating the meat further from the bone and saving the bone and residual meat for soup and pasta. Also, the skin didn't crisp up the way I hoped.


I also discovered I have NO IDEA how to carve turkey breast. There seems to be no logic in getting nice, even slices, especially with that bone in the way. My efforts are so laughable, I have not even provided you with a picture of my finished result. I also really hope I didn't give myself salmonella.

The Result
Based on what I had been told, I was really expecting more pizazz from the brining. The flavours were nice, but nothing mind blowing. The turkey seemed moist, and is probably protected a little from overcooking due to the brining, but at the same time, if you know what you're doing you should be able to come up with moist meat anyways, right? I'll take my dad's Thanksgiving turkey over my meagre attempts to date. In the future, I might keep the temperature at 400 F for 15 minutes and cook for 25-30 minutes at 350 F after that.

Guilt factor: Low. Turkey is relatively good for you, the breast is white meat. I had it with some garlic dill mashed potatoes and steamed broccoli with Parmesan cheese.
Servings: Close to 2 lbs of meat is A LOT for one person. I'm going to say 3 for the size of breast I used; I did only eat one serving of the breast though and relegated the rest to pasta later on.
Leftover rating: 3.5/5. Unless you're planning to save the rest of your sides to keep along for second meals, it's hard. You could always make turkey sandwiches though!
Taste: 3/5

Overall: 75%

The good: Healthy, easy day-of cooking.

The bad: Requires day-before prepping (although it is easy), flavours aren't super great, turkey breast a little hard to find. Here, at least.

Chocolate Souffle

Welcome to the new decade!
A bone of contention in my family has always been over soufflés and whether or not there's an easier, more foolproof way to do them. Soufflés in general are one of those notorious culinary items that seems to have red warning lights all around it. Popular belief is that so much as looking at the thing the wrong way can result in a deflated dessert. My dad is a staunch believer that soufflés can only be made to order, just before baking and serving them. This seemed to be a popular sentiment I found on the internet while researching this recipe. But that can't be completely true, can it? I mean, some restaurants serve soufflés not only for dessert, but as savoury main courses as well. Making each of them to order just wouldn't be practical. Thus, this Christmas, I set out to see if I could create a soufflé that would rise even if the batter had to sit over the course of Christmas dinner (about 6 hours).

For the prep:

• I spent: less than $5
• Ingredients: 4/5 (because of special equipment deduction)
  

Soufflés, in general, seem to have a pretty simplistic ingredient list. I made enough soufflé for four people for a reasonable price. My recipe didn't call for any unusual ingredient items that you wouldn't be able to find in your pantry or at your local supermarket (for those of you who don't keep chocolate stocked in your kitchen at all times).
One thing you will have to invest in, however, is something to bake your soufflés in. I used the ones I found in my parents' kitchen, which were about 10 oz in size (or even a little larger than that). A good individual serving sized ramekin would be 6-8 oz (or 3/4 to 1 cup). You can find them at supermarkets (the ones I actually own, I bought from Superstore) or department stores, and I found them to be quite inexpensive (a couple dollars each for a 6 oz ramekin). On the bright side, these ramekins can also be used for other desserts (like molten lava cakes!). Or for chip dip, if your soufflé doesn't turn out and you vow never to attempt them again.

Cooking:

• Easiness: 2/5

I used this recipe from Epicurious.com to get me started on my attempt. Here's what I ended up needing:

• 1/3 cup sugar, plus about 2 tbsp extra
• 5 oz bittersweet chocolate (this is the equivalent of 5 Baker's Squares)
  
• 3 large egg yolks
• 6 large egg whites
• 1 tsp vanilla extract
• Butter or margarine
• Milk
• Lemon juice

As it turns out, soufflés aren't really as horrible as people make them out to be. This was my second time making soufflés, and I didn't find it to be as touchy as I'd always thought it would be. However, there ARE certain points where it's possible to botch things, and there are a few techniques that are handy to hang onto during the course of the recipe.

First you want to prepare the ramekins you're going to bake the soufflé in. This wasn't recommended by the particular recipe I followed, but several other sites included the following advice: coat the inside of the ramekins with a thin and even layer of butter. Add a spoonful of sugar to each ramekin and shake around to cover the layer of butter with a layer of sugar. Supposedly, this helps give the soufflé a bit of a crust. Put the finished ramekins into the fridge (I don't know if this is necessary or not, but it seems to be a good way to prevent a warm kitchen from ruining your work).

Separate your eggs. Be sure to remember you need SIX whites, but only THREE yolks. Put the three extra yolks away where there won't be confusion later. You can use them in something like scrambled eggs or molten lava cake later.
Separating eggs always makes me nervous, mostly because a bad break can mean spilling a pierced yolk into your already separated whites (especially horrifying when you're only had one egg left to separate). I used to try to separate my yolks out by passing it between the two halves of the egg shell while simultaneously pouring out the white, but my ability to make a clean break in the centre of the egg is questionable. Although it's a lot oogier, it's much easier to break the egg, pour the entire thing into your cupped hand, and gently shake your hand back and forth to coax the egg white off of the yolk. This can sometimes take a bit of time (and pleading), as part of the egg white inevitably clings to the yolk. Be patient and gentle. So far, I've found this to be the best way to separate eggs.

Heat a pot of water on the stove so it's barely simmering. Place a bowl to cover the top of the pot (you're essentially creating a double boiler; the bowl should fit snugly over the pot, so be sure not to use on that's too small). In the bowl, melt the chocolate, stirring occasionally. When I did this, my chocolate mixture seemed to be kind of thick and chunky, and it only got worse the more I tried to heat it. Since I knew that the mixture would thicken even more later, I added about a teaspoon of butter and a splash of milk to smooth the chocolate out. I also added a teaspoon of vanilla to enhance the flavours.

Remove the bowl from the heat (be careful not to burn yourself on the steam from the simmer water below!) and add the three egg yolks. They say to add the yolks at room temperature, but I kind of just added them in while they were still a little cool. Stir to combine. The mixture will stiffen; set it aside.

Now it's time to beat your egg whites. The eggs whites are essentially what will make your soufflé rise in the oven. Beating egg whites causes them to be fluffy, essentially because you're creating a lot of tiny air pockets. Putting those air pockets into the oven (i.e. when baking the soufflé) will cause the trapped air to expand due to the heat, thus causing the soufflé to rise. Thus, it's important to get the right consistency of egg white in order for the physics of the soufflé to work. The issue with doing soufflés in advance is that long periods of waiting time allow the opportunity for all those little air pockets in the batter to deflate, leaving no air to expand and push the soufflé up. (Check out Lex Culinaria as my source for this soufflé science tidbit). Deflation can be avoided by adding a stabilizer (in this case, an acid) to the egg whites. This will encourage the air pockets to keep their shape over time.
Using a large mixing bowl, use an electric mixer to beat the egg whites (I found this site to be really helpful with guides for different consistencies to look out for). You can also do this with a whisk and some elbow grease, but it'll be a lot easier with the joys of modern technology. Before you get started, add a pinch of salt and some lemon juice to the egg whites. The recommended amount of lemon juice is about 1/4 tsp of juice per egg white, or 1.5 tsp total. Start with the mixer on medium speed and beat the whites until they can just hold soft peaks (there will be a peak when you lift the beaters, but, it will flop over limply; I know of no other way to check your egg whites than to stop the beaters and lift them). At this point, start adding the 1/3 cup of sugar slowly. Once you've added all of the sugar, turn up the mixer to high and beat the egg whites until they hold stiff peaks: this is when you can lift the beater and the whites hold a firm point. I've read that you should be careful not to over beat your eggs, since they can get dry and lose their elasticity, which will result in flat soufflés. You'll know you've gone too far if your whites look dull instead of glossy.

Add a big scoop of the whites to your chocolate mixture. The actual amount is not important, you just want to add a little bit of the whites to the chocolate to make it easier to work with. Fold in the whites to chocolate, then transfer the chocolate mixture to the bowl with the rest of the egg whites. Fold in the egg whites so they're thoroughly mixed in, but don't overwork the batter! If you're unsure of how to fold in egg whites this is a pretty good video demo, just remember your egg whites should be a lot stiffer than hers are (I don't fold exactly like this, but whatever). The consistency of your batter should be reminiscent of chocolate mousse.
Once the batter is finished, spoon them evenly into the prepared dishes. The dishes should be at least 3/4 of the way full (this is so when it rises, you'll get enough volume to get that nice cap on top). I wasn't baking my soufflés for about 5 more hours, so I just covered them with saran wrap (with the wrap NOT touching the batter) and popped them into the fridge.

I was a little unsure of the baking time required, since I was using a smaller dish than the posted recipe. I preheated my oven to 400 F. Before I popped them into the oven, I ran my thumb around the edge of the batter; this is to ensure even rising for the soufflé (thanks to Gordon Ramsay for that pro tip :p). I baked them for around 15 minutes; a more appropriate time (especially since my batter had been in the fridge) would have been closer to 20-25 minutes. My soufflés ended up a bit undercooked; hopefully if I had cooked them a little longer I would have gotten a bit more height.

The Result:
Well, as you can see, my soufflés did rise, despite having been in the fridge for several hours, so apparently you can make soufflés ahead of time (MYTH BUSTED!). The flavour was pretty good, and using the bittersweet chocolate ensured that it wasn't too sweet. In the future, I'll be sure to adjust my baking time accordingly. If someone can tell how to tell the soufflé is cooked without opening the oven, I will be eternally grateful :)
In summation, to make a successful soufflé, the key is in the egg whites! The flavour base is really just an incidental. The next challenge: savoury soufflés!!

Guilt factor: Eh, it's dessert, what do you expect? I'd say pretty low, considering everything. Besides, chocolate is supposed to be good for you isn't it? (Yes, yes, I know. That's mostly only true for dark chocolate).
Servings: 4
Leftover rating: n/a. Who eats leftover soufflé??!
Taste: 3.5/5

Overall rating: 60% (for the recipe I used, not the result).

The good: Easy to find ingredients.

The bad: I ended up making quite a few modifications to recipe to suit my purposes. A couple things came up during the baking that made me alter the recipe on the fly, and if I hadn't done research before hand, I would have run into quite a few stumbling blocks using the Epicurious recipe (for example, when the chocolate didn't melt smoothly). It's good if you've had a lot of experience with soufflés before, but it's pretty bare bones so I'd supplement it with other resources.

Stay tuned to Food-to-nom! Coming soon: an exciting and exotic food experience :)