Lest you should begin to think the Food Network and the internet are the only places to unearth horrifying recipes, I bring you a creation of my own imagining. Last night I had a dream that I was the challenger contestant on a new show called Iron Chef Amateur. As my opponent, I chose a large, boisterous, carnivorous fictional blogger (think Mario Batali with a Macbook, except mean and more pompous).
Just like the actual Iron Chef shows, we were given access to every ingredient, gadget, and method imaginable. But, because this was the amateur version, there was no secret ingredient, the show was thirty minutes long, and you needed only to complete one dish.
On the other side of Kitchen Stadium, there stood a rotund and bombastic man, armed with a meat mallet, three pounds of veal, and a vat of oil. I cowered in my corner, tempted by some wild asparagus, beautiful morels, a huge basket of lemons, and among a plethora of other options, a veritable garden of herbs.
Soon I heard the slamming of the baby cow flesh on the butcher block, I smelled the oil starting to cook, I heard Alton Brown’s voice out of my left ear, and Kevin Brauch came over to bother me. I was paralyzed with fear. I could feel my confidence shrinking with each crash of the mallet and each glimpse of the dredged meat. And the next thing I knew, ten minutes had elapsed and I hadn’t even so much as lifted my knife.
Somehow I pulled myself together, and pulled out what seemed at the time, to be a simple and fresh answer to Big-Bad-Blogger’s Weiner Schnitzel. I put on a pot of water, chopped up a handful of parsley, threw in a handful of salt and boiled the hell out of it for ten minutes. Then I came to my senses, and realized this was going to be the foulest thing to have ever graced the lips of any of the esteemed judges, so I threw in a minced carrot. I don’t even remember if I washed it. But wait! I should also add that I also toasted some sliced bread in another salvage attempt; at this point, it is pretty clear that I was unredeemable.
Now it was time for judgment. The arbiters were a Ted Allen impressionist, the actual Jeffrey Steingarten, and some other forgettable airhead. After attempting to sample the platter of schnitzel laid before them, Steingarten overturned the judge’s table, sending schnitzel pucks and wine goblets all about, stood up and bellowed, ‘This is not cuisine, this is a breaded hockey puck! Never before have I been so disgusted by the maltreatment of an animal!’ This outburst ate up a good portion of time, so I was miraculously saved from public ridicule, and the outcome of the battle was ruled a first in Iron Chef history: a draw by inedibility. 
Salted Parsley and Boiled Carrot Soup
Recipe courtesy of my imagination, insecurities, and some unconscious trauma
Ingredients
6 cups water
1 cup flat leaf parsley, chopped
1 generous handful sea salt (approximately .5 cups)
1 carrot, possibly unwashed, minced
Boil water, parsley, and salt for 10-15 minutes.
For the last 5 minutes, add the carrot.
Serve with sliced bread toast.
Recoil with embarrassment.
comic by hannah
There comes a time in every man's life when he must throw off the shackles of tradition and move to something more revolutionary. I speak, of course, of Latin American food.
When I think Latin American food, my journey takes me no further south than Tijuana, home of tequila, tacos, burritos, enchiladas and other such combinations of tortilla, beans, rice and meat. After a while, one begins to get the feeling that perhaps the Central and South Americans over-produced tortillas and didn't know what to do with them. Call me ethnocentric, but you know you're thinking it, too.
Thank heavens for chef and Food Network personality, Tyler Florence. I didn't see this recipe on TV, but Hannah did and told me that I had to make it because I have had an organic free-range pork tenderloin in the freezer for the past three or four months. I remembered how good it was the last time I made it and said, "YES, by gum! I shall make this!"
And I didn't regret it.
You see, what he made was a pork tenderloin marinated in a lime, jalapeño, spice, vinegar, olive oil mixture called chimichurri. This is an Argentinian sauce that has several origins, all of them involving an English colonist with a name not dissimilar to "Jimmy Curry" preparing the sauce and everyone just calling it thus. This leads us to the original Argentine recipe, which involves chopped parsley, dried oregano garlic, salt, pepper, onion and paprika with olive oil. Citrus juice and vinegar are added for pep. Clearly, Tyler made a variation of this with loads of pep and a Mexican influence.
This has simple ingredients. Everything you need is in your produce aisle (assuming you, like me, store your pork tenderloin for months at a time). And it's easy peasy, too. It's an hour, tops.
Pork Tenderloin with Chimichurri
From Tyler Florence
Chimichurri:
6 garlic cloves, peeled and minced
2 jalapenos, seeded and minced
1/4 cup red wine vinegar
About 1/2 cup finely chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley
About 1/2 cup finely chopped fresh oregano leaves
3 limes, juiced
1 cup extra-virgin olive oil
1 teaspoon kosher salt
1 teaspoon whole black peppercorns
2 pork tenderloins (about 1 pound each), trimmed of excess fat, patted dry
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
Extra-virgin olive oil
Lime juice, for drizzling
Parsley sprigs, for garnish
Combine the garlic, jalapeno and vinegar in a bowl. Stir in the parsley, oregano, and lime juice. Whisk in the olive oil and season with salt and pepper. Mix well and set aside at room temperature to allow the flavors to marry.
Reserve 1/2 cup of the chimichurri to serve and marinate the pork in the rest. Put the pork and marinade in a sealable plastic bag and set aside in the refrigerator for 30 minutes.
Preheat an outdoor charcoal grill or oven broiler to high.
Remove the pork from the marinade, wiping off any excess. Season both sides with a generous amount of salt and pepper. Drizzle with olive oil and place on the grill. Grill the pork on the hottest part of the barbecue for 4 minutes per side, until well charred. Allow the tenderloin to rest for about 5 minutes prior to slicing. Spoon some chimichurri over the meat, drizzle with lime juice, garnish with parsley, and serve with the remaining sauce at the table.
We served this with beans and basmati with cumin seeds and boiled and roasted carrots. I was stuffed all night. I made two tenderloins and only ate one. So the next day, I made Tenderloin salad for a sandwich:
Tenderloin Salad Sandwich
My own recipe
1 Pork tenderloin, grilled and cubed
1 Tbsp mayonnaise
1 Tbsp sour cream
2 or 3 Tbsp chimichurri sauce (from the previous night)
Salt and pepper to taste
Combine the mayo, sour cream and chimichurri. Add the meat. Season to taste. Place it on a sandwich. Eat.
I got two days of sandwiches out of this. It is fabulous. And if you make this meal, you will never EVER have anything better.
Unless perhaps...a picnic.
