The Trial and Error Contessa: Because being barefoot is overrated

Zak Pelaccio's Pork Belly (and my fear of frying)

As a part of my blog I will be featuring the occasional "Trial and Error Contessa" posts. These posts will be dedicated to a particular dish, as well as my failures, triumphs and downright missteps while attempting to make it. It is my hope you won't make all the mistakes I have... but what is a little kitchen fire among friends?

There are few things that make my heart sing like pork belly. I know, there are those of you out there who are thinking, "That is not your heart singing. That is your heart screaming from cholesterol toxicity." Well, consistent with Rule #14, Subclause 8a in The Courtney Guidebook:

My body is not a temple. It's a circus.

I can wax poetic about pork belly for rather absurd lengths of time and still not get enough. Pork belly is bacon's sophisticated older sister. There is a special part of my coronary arteries reserved for pork belly. There was a time in my life when I was vegan. I realize in hindsight that it was a rather ill attempt to avoid my mother's roast beef and pork chops, but it seemed like a good idea at the time. Spaghetti and eggplant all day? What could be better?

But, alas, as a wise soul once said, "Bacon is the gateway meat." (You'll notice I'm getting all of the sage quotes that I had once intended for my inaugural blog entry, out here.) And if bacon is the gateway meat, then pork belly is full on porcine heroine. And thus, bacon called me back to the land of omnivores.

Now unlike sea urchin and heirloom tomatoes, pork belly is best not eaten raw... ever. And while there are several ethereal iterations of pork belly, none, in my humble opinion, quite matches Zak Pelaccio's Pickled Watermelon Rind and Pork Belly Salad. The first time I had it, I was with a friend who puts anything in his mouth... including his foot... a lot. Needless to say, the appetizer course went by without a sound uttered between the two of us: the pork belly was crisp on the outside but soft, sweet and salty all at once on the inside. The pickled watermelon rinds were cool, crunchy and tart and the watermelon itself was refreshing and juicy.

And then it was gone.

I, of course, had wrongly assumed that I could have this pork and fruit delicacy whenever my heart felt a little too healthy (or my stomach felt a little too pork-less). But alas, the  lines are always long at Fatty Crab and watermelon season is just a blip on the seasonal vegetable radar. And so, as quickly as it came, the pork belly salad went. Apparently I am not alone in my Pelaccio Pork Belly Mania. And finally, Melissa Clark (who is at once a food and diet book author, cook in her own right, and overwhelmingly thin) convinced Mr. Pelaccio who is  a generous and kind soul, to share his recipe with the world.


http://www.nytimes.com/2006/08/16/dining/16chef.html


I ran home with the recipe, printed in triplicate, just in case the New York Times were to pull it off their site.

Now the first time I made this, I had read the recipe 50 times and had a 3 day game plan laid out. And yet, it somehow did not quite work. The pork belly skin was a little tough. The pickles were a little unpickled and the watermelon fell apart. The dressing came out perfectly.

But what is 3 days? And it certainly did not involve the "You must be Hannibal-ette Lecter" looks that you get on the subway when you are carrying 10 pounds of veal bones home from Lobel's to make Veal Demi Glace. (That epic disaster shall be the subject of another blog).

Attempt #2 (which occurred after hours of therapy and self affirmation in front of the bathroom mirror) was only slightly better. I let the pickles brine longer which was critical. The dressing was good again. But again... the pork belly meat was a little tougher than it should be and the skin was a little chewier than I would like.

And one day, at Minetta Tavern, Zak Pelaccio walks in. I quickly (and admittedly, slightly drunkenly) barraged him like a 12 year old girl in front of Miley Cyrus with my two moderately failed attempts at his recipe. Without a drop of annoyance, he starts politely, "Don't be afraid to fry the meat really well." Well maybe those weren't his exact words but they were close.

Now as a child of the 80's, I was raised with a dollop of corn oil and a shmear of margarine. There would be no lard or butter in my mother's household. Now that we understand the lies that hydrogenated fats tell us, I keep containers of rendered duck fat in my freezer and bottles of olive oil and sticks of butter all over my kitchen. But frying has always eluded me. Deep frying has downright frightened me. Yes I am kitchen-frying-phobic. I eat fried foods. I like them more than I should. There, no doubt, will be a whole blog dedicated to Balthazar's french fries. However when it comes to frying at home... well I guess I was a fry-phobic living under the cloud of the omnipresent fry-guilt (a very distant cousin of Catholic guilt), both of which were burned into my brain by my mother.

So last Sunday I overcame these fears and dumped 3 bottles of oil and a thermometer into a pot and voila! The pork belly I longed for, finally came out of my kitchen.

The Trial and Error Contessa's Saga of

Zak Pelaccio's Pork Belly and Watermelon Salad

My random mental wanderings, useless suggestions and occasional bad jokes are in red
Adapted from the New York Times... in case you didn't read the above part
Published: August 16, 2006
Time: 4½ to 5½ hours, plus at least 24 hours’ marinating

FOR THE PORK BELLY:

3 pounds raw, uncured pork belly, skin on (I get this at Deluxe Food Market at 79 Elizabeth, skin on, boneless)


2 cups kecap manis (This is sweet soy sauce. NO! Normal soy sauce will not do! This is thick and sweet and delicious. I buy it at Asia Grocery at 7 1/2 Mulberry, near Bayard Street.)


6 tablespoons Chinese black vinegar (I get this at Asia Grocery too)


3 tablespoons dark soy sauce

3 tablespoons Thai or Vietnamese fish sauce (You can get this at most grocery stores now, but the Kikkoman version is pretty gross. Get Tiparo's or something good, please)


Freshly squeezed juice of 1 lime

Canola oil or peanut oil, for frying

All-purpose flour, for dusting

Salt, if needed


FOR THE WATERMELON SALAD:

5 pounds watermelon (doing this out of season from the pre-packed Whole Food variety is not advised... see below for my off season adaptation)


2 cups rice wine vinegar

3 shallots, sliced

2 Thai bird chilies, sliced (I grow these... but small hot chilis will do in a pinch)


2 kaffir lime leaves (These things are a bitch to find. Asia Grocery has them (you have to ask) and Whole Foods will rarely have them. They keep rather well in the freezer. Unfortunately lime really won't do as a substitute)


1 ounce (2 inches) fresh gingerroot, peeled and sliced (Do not use powdered ginger.)


½ round (1 ounce) palm sugar or 2 tablespoons light brown sugar  (This I get at Asia Grocery too. Buy the individual disks unless you use it a lot because the big fat jar of it dries out faster than I eat french fries.)


1 tablespoon kosher salt

FOR THE DRESSING:

1½ rounds palm sugar (3 ounces) or 6 tablespoons light brown sugar (see the above note about this)


1 cup rice wine vinegar

½ cup freshly squeezed lime juice (Don't use the bottled lime juice or Rose's lime juice. Squeeze a lime. Come on. You can do it. Pick limes which are not dehydrated and seem to have thin, smooth peels. These seem to be the best for juicing)


6 ounces gingerroot, peeled and sliced (Do not, I repeat do NOT, use powdered ginger.)


6 cilantro roots and 1 inch of stems, cleaned and trimmed (Yeah... bet you've never used the root before. Try to buy cilantro bunches that have the root, dirt and all attaching the bunch at the bottom. Chop off the root part and scrape the outer tough/dirty part off with a knife. Voila. Once you try them, you will never waste a part of the cilantro plant again)


2 garlic cloves, roughly chopped

¾ teaspoon kosher salt

3 scallions, trimmed and sliced, for garnish


1 cup torn Vietnamese coriander (rau ram) leaves, for garnish (Asia Grocery has these too... cilantro, whose roots you used above, is an okay sub)


1 cup torn Thai basil leaves, for garnish (I grow this, but Asia grocery has it. I've never used normal Italian basil. It has a very different taste. I'm not sure I'd recommend that)


Sesame seeds, for garnish (optional) (I've gotta admit, if I add sesame seeds to anything I toast them a little bit to give them more flavor. Otherwise, the only purpose they serve, IMHO, is to get stuck in your teeth and make you look like a baleen whale.)


1. Crosshatch pork belly skin with sharp knife, making cuts ½-inch apart. Place pork belly in non-reactive dish. Combine kecap manis, vinegar, soy sauce, fish sauce and lime juice, and pour over pork belly. Chill for 24 to 48 hours, turning several times. (Okay I cheat and don't turn as much as I should. I use a pyrex and I wrap it well with Saran Wrap because the pork bellies can float up a little out of the marinade and not soak up the gooey goodness. Also when you put this in your refrigerator, I tend to put the pan in a slightly bigger pan. My pork belly has a habit of swelling causing the marinade to overflow... all over my refrigerator.)


2. Preheat oven to 275 degrees. Place belly, skin side up, in baking pan with 2 cups marinating liquid and 2 cups water. Liquid should come halfway up the pork; if not, add more water or use smaller pan. Cover pan with foil. Bake until a skewer penetrates the belly with little or no resistance, 3 to 4 hours. Remove pork from liquid and let cool. Leaving skin on, slice belly into 1-inch chunks.
Suggestion #1: Don't overcook the meat or the bottom of the meat will be tough and dry. And if your oven runs a little hot, back it down to 250 degrees. High heat will kill your pork belly. Do NOT rush this, or you will hate yourself.
Suggestion #2: As a child of the 80's (though born in the decade before), I was born with the the MORE=BETTER gene. This is not a time for that. As your belly cooks it will release a lot of fat which will float to the top of the marinade. If you overfill the marinade you risk overflowing all this fat straight into your oven. This is not a mess. It is a flat out disaster like Bush Part Deux's regime. Only fill the marinade to half and if possible put your baking dish in a rimmed baking sheet or container to catch spills and bubbling.


3. To make salad, cut watermelon flesh into 1-inch cubes (discarding seeds). Reserve rind. Refrigerate flesh until ready to use. With sharp knife, remove outer green skin of rind, reserving white part. Dice white rind into ½-inch cubes. Transfer to a heatproof bowl. (Trimming watermelon rind is not fun but it is worth the pickly goodness. I promise.)


4. In a saucepan over medium-high heat, combine rice wine vinegar, shallots, chilies, kaffir lime, ginger, palm sugar, salt and 1 cup water, and bring to boil. Cook until sugar dissolves. Strain liquid over white rind. Let cool, then chill for at least 1 hour or as long as 2 days.
Rule #1: Okay. You know how in lab class, your teacher told you to NOT breathe in the hydrochloric acid fumes? Well really your teacher told you not to sniff anything unknown. Yeah, well clearly I didn't learn anything in this class. If you take a sniff of the pickling fumes while they are heating, your nose hair will promptly fall out of your nose and your eyes will run screaming to the back of your head. Vinegar is acid. Enough said.
Rule #2: In my opinion one hour is NOT enough. Really. Neither is two hours. Or three hours. I had a pickle brining tasting. They really do need at least overnight to reach maximum pickle potential.

5. To make dressing, roughly crush palm sugar using a mortar and pestle or place in a plastic bag and crush with a hammer or heavy can. In a food processor, combine sugar with vinegar, lime juice, ginger, cilantro, garlic and salt, and blend until smooth. (Yeah... good luck doing this with petrified Cane Sugar)

6. In medium saucepan or wok, heat 3 inches canola or peanut oil to 375 degrees. Lightly dust pork belly cubes with flour, shaking off excess. Working in batches, fry pork belly until dark golden brown and crispy, 6 to 7 minutes. Transfer to a paper-towel-lined plate. Season with salt, if necessary. (This, my friends, is the key. The secret. The Holy Grail of Pork Belly. It takes very little flour and a decent amount of oil. Thank you, Mr. Pelaccio)

7. In a mixing bowl, toss the watermelon flesh with just enough dressing to coat. Divide pork among serving plates, and top with watermelon flesh and a few cubes of pickled rind. Drizzle additional dressing around plate. Garnish with scallions, coriander leaves, basil, and sesame seeds, if using.

Yield: 8 servings.

Now I've doubled and tripled this recipe with success, but what do you do outside of watermelon season? My solution? If the David Chang Pork Bun marries the Zak Pelaccio salad, the marriage is one that will withstand 18 kids, the recession and 500 pounds of "Fat N' Happy" weight gain.


For a quick party dish, prep the pork belly as above up to the part where you cut it into one inch cubes the night before. Refrigerate.


Buy the buns (like the Momofuku Ssam buns) at your local Chinese Grocery. I use Hong Kong Supermarket. Slice cucumber into thin disks. A mandolin works well, or if you value your finger tips and you are as coordinated like me, a plain old knife is fine as well. I peel about 60-70% of the cucumber peel off in alternating strips. Along with cucumber, you can serve your buns with washed and thoroughly dried cilantro leaves. Or a little chopped boiled egg. Or combinations thereof. Basically, whatever suits your fancy. I bet some toasted pignoli nuts might be interesting. Or a basil, cilantro, and mint salad.
Take the pork cubes out of the refrigerator at least an hour before frying. Fry up the pork the day of. Warm the buns in the microwave for 2 minutes. Serve the pork in a dish with the warm rolls and accoutrement for a build-your-own-belly ssam. Serve with the watermelon dressing, Sriracha and Hoisin sauces on the sides. 


I wish I could say that I had learned some deep life lesson from this pork belly saga. Maybe you will. If you do, please share. I guess I've overcome my fear of frying. But really, maybe it is just one of those life experiences where it is the pork-alicious adventure and not the destination that really matter.