'menu' blog posts

Shrimp Po’ Boy

Saturday, November 10th, 2012

When pondering ideas for our fall lunch menu, we wanted to step into po’ boy territory a bit, it’s something to which we’ve given a lot of thought, and peacemakers have been top sellers the one time of year we have traditionally offered po’ boys, Mardi Gras. Po’ Boys are such an iconic and historically important food in New Orleans since their beginning during a railcar strike in the 1920′s that I’ve sort of decided it’s a shame we never have them available.

The bread is very important, and we’ve selected a lean, fluffy bread with a crackly crust, the closest we’ve found in Chicago. It’s a tough prospect because Nola’s French bread evolved in a hot, humid climate that impressed on the loaf a high risk of overproofing, and bakers there increased gluten in the dough to stand up to a faster, higher rise. That’s a tough texture to match, but by selecting a bread made from a poolish starter and high gluten flour, we think we have a loaf that is true to the sandwiches roots and keeps the spirit alive.

The shrimp are breaded in a traditional Cajun fry dredge – about half each corn and rice flours, and seasoned high with cayenne. They’re flash fried until crisp on the outside and toothsome but tender inside. It’s a fine line. Presentation-wise, we’re going with the new po’ boy phenomenon where restaurants in Nola are adding artisinal ingredients and getting more creative with their fillings. We’re not too far off from tradition here and well within keeping with the new po’ boy, dressing with lots of butter lettuce, even more remoulade, and a generous sprinkling of piccalilli for sweetness and acidity.

The shrimp po’ boy is available Monday-Friday from 11 am – 4 p.m., and like any true po’ boy, could easily feed two.

A Special Dinner with Slow Food Chicago: Low on the Hog in the Lowcountry

Wednesday, April 20th, 2011

I studied Southern food for many years, on and off with varying degrees of intensity, before ultimately deciding that Southern cooking – Coastal Southern specifically – was where I wanted to focus my energy. I can talk forever about the thoughts and inspirations that led me to that realization, but at the moment I find myself thinking a lot about where my cooking is today and where it’s going. In the three years since Big Jones opened, I am more and more interested in the African diaspora largely because of the profound influences African cultures had on cooking in the coastal regions of the South from the very beginning. I’ve always known the influence is there, but I’m continually amazed at how little of the real story of American cooking is told.

I’m endlessly fascinated with the cooking of slave cabins, freedmen’s homes, and the rural South in general because a sense of kinship begins there, rooted in the simplest joys of life, the little pleasures, and the way life is structured around the quest for food when your means are modest, as was the case in my own family during my early years. My family, while of modest means, never knew the struggle of chattel slavery or life as sharecroppers during reconstruction, but all the same it was a great occasion in our home when squirrels, rabbits – or even better, deer – were shot and bagged in the woods that surrounded our home, because they were free and delicious. A mushroom hunt was always a great occasion, and so was a great day fishing that brought home sustenance for little other cost than time and some effort. Grandpa always brought in a couple of pigs every year for the larder.

In the foreword to Sallie AnnĀ  Robinson’s wonderful cookbook, “Gullah Home Cooking the Daufuskie Way,” author Pat Conroy describes the year he spent on Daufuskie Island as “one of the best-fed years of my overfed life.” Of course, he was describing a time spent as a teacher in a little schoolhouse on a tiny island inhabited by Gullah off the coast of South Carolina. Life on the island meant a life of poverty, but it also meant great eating because beautiful seafood, game, and forage were free to anyone with the motivation, and generations of saved seed meant vegetables and fruits were free but for the work of gardening. Finally, a few animals kept in the yard would mean a supply of eggs, poultry, and pork in season. This sounds so much like the best memories from my family and I hope through this dinner I can show you a taste of real home cooking – which by necessity meant whole animal cooking – from our common American history with the Lowcountry as our springboard.

Ultimately this means we are cooking from the same roots as soul food, but I would define soul food as the urban offspring of this kind of deep country cooking, soul food being much more limited in scope because urban markets by the 1950′s and 1960′s, when the term was coined, were not supplying the incredible variety of foods available in the back country of the South where the cooking has its roots.

Our intent of keeping this dinner as local as possible meant pork would be the focal point, rather than seafood as those are the main proteins besides wild game in the Lowcountry. During the dinner I’ll talk about the phrase “high on the hog” and its cultural roots in slavery and reconstruction, while we eat delicious food as close to the land as possible.

Finally, there is an unseemly irony about the price of $49 to feast upon offal, vegetables, peas, and rice. Only the irony isn’t there. Many of you reading this will declare this a huge bargain (and it is, this dinner is about community building and not about profit – I have 30 other days in May to worry about that) but the truth is $49 is a hell of a lot of money for dinner for most of the world. The real irony is that it costs us this much to eat clean food, while industrial garbage is cheap. In the past, and even in the present day to folks with the land, food of this quality is free but for the time and effort to raise it, hunt it, gather it, or grow it.

Please join us for what will be a wonderful meal.

Low on the Hog in the Lowcountry

Thursday May 19, 2011

6 p.m. reception, 7 p.m. dinner

Amuse
Fried chitterlings, turnip & scallion slaw, rhubarb vinegar

Bread Service
Awendaw spoonbread with crackins and palmetto honey

First
She-crab soup, crispy trotter, spicy chicharrones, wood sorrel & lemon

Second
Dandelion & mizuna salad, poached farm egg, smoked jowl & oyster vinaigrette

Third
Pecan wood roasted collar & grilled blood sausage, reezy-peezy, turnip greens, potlikker

Dessert
Pecan praline pie, leaf lard pastry, lemon curd, chicory coffee, vanilla ice cream
-and-
Sea Island Bennecake Cookies

 

Featured producers include but not limited to Gunthorp, Werp, Seedling, Genesis Growers, Three Sisters, Kilgus Farmstead, Miller Family Farm, Anson Mills

 

$49 includes tax, gratuity, and a $10 donation to Slow Food Chicago. For reservations, call 773-275-5725.

A few of our new dishes as Spring nears!

Wednesday, March 16th, 2011

Even as this can be a farm to table cook’s most trying time of year, it is fun for me nonetheless. The summer and fall seasons in the Great Lakes region are so abundant with beautiful local produce that they challenge me to utilize all that is available, and that is a major driver of Big Jones’ menus during those seasons. This time of year, as all but a trickle of the last harvest is gone and we can get a little local lettuce and some herbs, at this time we have no choice but to look outwards to fill out our needs for fresh produce. We still have lots of preserves, pickles, and the like that we put up last summer and fall, and those pop up all over the menus and will until this fall harvest comes in. We just sold our last brandied Harrow’s Delight pear last weekend but there are still blueberry preserves, raspberry preserves, pepper jelly, preserved blackberries, dried raspberries, brandied cherries, and at least a half dozen varieties of pickle and relish. As the harvest moved South for the winter, we spent some time putting up preserved Meyer lemons, kumquat marmalade, and candied citron to keep some interesting things in the larder for the leanest preseason weeks. So, lots of great stuff to offer even in March when it’s still (!) 40 degrees outside.

I’m a fairly fervent advocate of the Certified Organic label when we can’t buy something directly from a local farmer we know and trust. Goodness Greenness is our go-to supplier on that front, hooking us up with everything from gorgeous citron and kumquats to chervil and collard greens so very nearly tasty as the ones we buy from Genesis, Green Acres, Ridgeland, and Tipi in season. Right now the artichokes are beautiful and I have to say that once in a while it’s nice to work with some produce that is alien to our northern climes. We have some beautiful snap peas in house from Blue Sky Organic Farm to finish our current Gunthorp Farm chicken dish, and we’re looking forward to peas and fava beans in the near future. Then, our local harvest should be in swing with ramps, morels, rhubarb, spinach, and garlic scapes and my favorite time of year to cook is underway!

We have one last major menu change to carry us through until the Spring harvest and it’s underway now. I hope to be making a big announcement soon, but that will have to wait. Here are a few of the dishes gracing our menu the next few weeks:

This is a fried organic artichoke with black garlic & sherry vinegar emulsion, mustard greens, and redbor kale. The breading is a combination of sea island bennecake flour and Carolina gold rice flour. Bennecake is a fairly recent project and success of Anson Mills, a reproduction of an old staple of slave cooking. They start with heirloom sea island benne (aka sesame seeds) which are lower in oil than modern industrial sesame seeds, and higher in protein. The seeds are steeped in water to remove more of the oil (to be used in cooking) then redried and ground into flour. The texture is rich and fine, the flavor intensely nutty and buttery, the perfect foil for the green bitterness of artichoke. We poach the artichokes in barigoule, a classical French preparation, to flavor them and ready them for the deep fryer. The condiment is cross-cultural, but we thought the sweet earthiness of aged black garlic and the gentle yet forward acidity of sherry vinegar would tie it all together. The greens keep it fresh and add a peppery note on the top.

I’ve wanted to do split pea soup for the longest time, and the dearth of local produce this time of year seems like the perfect time to cook it up, especially with the chilly rainy months ahead. Rather than do the obvious ham pairing, we are searing pig trotter rillettes and pouring the soup tableside. A small salad of toasted almonds, parsley, and garlic (think pistou or persillade) adds some crunch and green notes.

You might not know that historically peas were cooked with fat to supplement their lean nutritive properties with another element essential for human health: fat. In the old days, the fat was likely to be whale blubber since ordinary folks couldn’t afford meat. Over the centuries as pork gained influence as a source of both lean protein and fat, pork became the choice for cooking with peas or beans for complete nutrition. Trotters make one of the most nutritious and delicious additions because they do contain some fat but are also a truly rich source of collagen, a fantastic dietary protein that is a major key to keeping lean and mean. It’s not coincidence that societies and social classes that eschewed the most nutritious (and flavorful) parts of their animal foods also experience high rates of obesity.

This is a frozen citron cheesecake with basil sorbet, oat scone shortbread, blueberry preserves, candied coconut, and sansyo pepper. While this is a chance to play with exotic ingredients, it also incorporates preserved local basil and blueberries. Citron is so fantastically aromatic it was a joy to score some organic fruit to work with, and it continues to amaze me that it’s not more widely used and available. Sansyo pepper is a Japanese preparation of the more widely-known Sichuan peppercorn. The Sichuan is toasted and has darker, toastier properties, while the Sansyo pepper of Japan is simply dried and features bright, woodsy, lemony flavors and aromas. They both share that classic sparkling, numbing tingle that is unique and sets it apart from ordinary peppercorns.

Toasted pimiento cheese and tasso sandwich with chow-chow and eggs on marbled rye. You can get this during brunch and lunch. As a total egg and cheese sandwich whore, I endorse this with every fiber of my being. Just do it. It’s pictured here with fried okra pickles and house bread and butter pickle spear. During brunch it’s served with potatoes O’brien, but if you ask the okra pickles are yours.

There’s more on the docket, so stay tuned. I also promise a new Anatomy of A Dish post, as well as some pointers on how to make your own awesome jambalaya.