About me

Friday, July 15, 2011

Cheesy crackling bread

Some of you are going to wonder if the rest of us have lost our minds. Probably, we have, and do know that you cannot eat like this often unless you're after a slow suicide, but have it now and again, and your soul will hum in resonance with that satisfying moment you haven't felt, but needed and missed, for ages.

When we're done, we'll step back into a healthier, and, likely, somewhat less tum-satisfying world.

We bought a bag of homemade fried pork skins yesterday, and took them to work. A very few were left at the end of the day. I brought them home to use this morning.

Here are the lefgtovers.

I took the crunchiest of the crunchy out, and broke up the rest into relatively small pieces.

I put the little pieces in the big pot (because I don't have room for the large mixing bowl that I also don't have) with a huge splash of olive oil. There was no subsequent explosion. By huge splash, I mean two or three ounces. That emptied the bottle, and being ever the good boy, I rinsed the bottle and put it in the recycling. Well, I'll put it there once it drains and dries.

Now, we need some cheese. I used the last half of the bag of shredded Mexican cheese, which is likely only available in the States. Yes, it was the Food Lion brand.

Stir all that together using the spoon the children found that weekend long ago when we were camping at Jordan Lake. Then, add some buttermilk, probably a pint to start out with, and stir that some more. A lot more.

Find the cornmeal. It's in the fridge to keep the bugs out.

Yeah, I really did get that meal at Food Lion.

You'll find the self-rising flour over in the pantry. We use it to fast to worry about the bugs.

Now, dump in some corn meal and some self-rising flour.

Stir this mess. After two strokes, I discovered I had put in too much meal and flour. Rather than throw the whole mess into the trash, I added more buttermilk, stirred, added more buttermilk, and stirred some more. It was finally about right, and yes, the mix needs to be wet.

Won't that fun?

Find the iron skillet, and splash in a lot of olive oil.

Yes, I have one skillet sitting in the other. Space comes at a premium around here.

Spoon, or otherwise relocate, the batter from the iron pot to the skillet. If you used a large mixing bowl, that's OK. I promise not to hate you. Just move the batter from the bowl to the iron pot so you can then move it to the skillet according to these instructions.

It's important to follow instructions exactly.

Yes, you can pat it a little. I certainly did.

Put it in the oven at about 450 degrees. Those are American degrees, which you might know as Fahrenheit. Aren't you impressed that I can spell that name?

There will be a little left in the iron pot.

Yes, you may lick out the pot. I certainly did. Just don't let Mama find out, or you'll have to listen to it yet again. That's right. She will tell you how raw dough, or batter, causes worms. Yes, we all know better, but there are just some things you don't do, and contradicting Mama is one of them.

After about an hour in the over, it's done. Here's what it look like.

I'm taking this pan to work with a stick of butter.

Oh, about the bigger, harder pieces I took out. They didn't make it though breakfast. Had to keep up my strength, you know. Let's keep this little secret away from the doc. And the dentist.

No comments: