Pork adobo

The Filipino flag
Source: https://publicdomainvectors.org/en/free-clipart/Philippines-Flag/18868.html

There is a quote about Mexico attributed to its former president, Porfirio Diaz, which is "¡Pobre México! ¡Tan lejos de Dios y tan cerca de los Estados Unidos!" which means "Poor Mexico! So far from God and so close to the United States!" Obviously, the country of Mexico is literally nextdoor to the United States, geographically and it is something of the bitch to the US, providing cheap labour and a destination for cheap healthcare but also lending them some great genuine cuisine from the New World (and probably providing a lot of drugs for them too). The country isn't the only one that has been culturally overwhelmed by the USA. Another more geographically remote and recent addition to this list is the Philippines. 

The Philippines
So many islands
Source: https://www.gov.uk/foreign-travel-advice/philippines

The Philippines is a huge archipelago of 7641 beautiful tropical islands in the South China Sea. It's an interesting country in that it's the only Christian country in Asia, thanks to being a former Spanish colony (to be fair, pretty much every country in the region, with the exception of Thailand, was colonised by Christian European powers, but retained their culture and religion largely intact. However, no-on expects the Spanish Inquisition). It came under the influence of the US after it became a prize in a war between Spain and the US and, later, as a place from which the Americans would launch attacks on Japan in WWII. It's also a very poor country, which is why Filipino nurses staff hospitals the world over, Filippino sailors man ships traversing the world and Filipino bands play in bars across SE Asia. The other reason for this is because English is so widely spoken (again, relating to the American influence). As much as I dislike sweeping generalisations and at the risk of being patronisingly colonial, the Filipino people are actually lovely: friendly, fun and happy, like those of many other countries in the region. Sweeping generlisations are seldom universally correct, and this is true of the Filipino people. As well as being ruled as a colony, they've had more than their fair share of in-house despots, such as Ferdinand Marcos and current populist "hard man" Rodrigo Duterte. Both Filipino, both tossers, along with their cronies who have enabled them to gain and retain power.

The Terminator has let itself go
Roberto Duterte, Self-styled hardman and wannabe dictator president of the Philippines

As much of a tropical paradise and as wonderful the Filipino people are, unlike many other countries in the region, the Philippines are not renowned for their cuisine. If you think of the food of SE Asia, you think Thai curries, you think Malaysian satay, you think Singaporean noodles (or chicken rice, truly one of the pinnacles of world cuisine, for that matter), but nothing from Manila. I know a little about Filipino food. I visited Manila once (I mentioned it here), and, as great as it was, I don't recall any outstanding food I ate (pork scratchings aside). It's not too surprising as the capital, at least, is swamped with US fast food restaurants

As far as we ignorant Westerners are concerned, Filipino food is probably noteworthy for three dishes: balut, pagpag and adobo. Balut is a steamed, fertilised duck egg, so basically a boiled egg with little-biddy chick inside it. Pagpag is the shit McDonalds and KFC, or any food outlet, throw out after its best before date, reheated and served to the poor; and then there's adobo, a rich stew that is unctuous and comforting, giving lie to this idea that the Philippines don't have any decent food (which makes them the Britain of Asia in that respect, because our food is laregly crap, but we have our moments). 

Adobo is a pretty simple dish, without any fancy spices or obscure ingredients. However, it's got a lot of the elements that are common in Thai, Chinese and other cuisines with simultaneously being sour, sweet, salty and umami

TIMING
Preparation: 10-15 minutes plus marination
Cooking: 3½ hours

INGREDIENTS
4tbsp dark soy sauce
6 cloves garlic, crushed
3 tbsp white wine vinegar
1tsp whole black peppercorns
5 bay leaves
250-300g belly pork, cut into bite-sized chunks
1 medium onion, sliced
1 medium sweet potato, peeled and cut into 2cm chunks
2 tsp sugar
½ tsp ground white pepper

RECIPE
Put the soy, vinegar, garlic, black peppercorns and bay leaves into a dish and add the pork, tossing to ensure it's well covered.

Marinating away

Cover and marinate in the fridge for at least a couple of hours, or, ideally, overnight.

Heat the oil in a heavy pan and, using a slotted spoon, remove the pork from the marinade and fry for a few minutes until browned, about 10 minutes.

Remove the pork from the pan using the same slotted spoon

Add the onions to the pan and gently fry the onion until soft, about 5-10 minutes.

Add the sweet potato and cook for a further five minutes

Return the pork, pour in the remaining marinade to the pan plus 150 ml water, the sugar and white pepper and bring to the boil

In the pot

Pour into the slow cooker dish, cover and set to medium for 3-4 hours. Alternatively, you can do this on the hob for an hour or two

Serve up with plain boiled or steamed rice

A bowlful of satisfying, meaty, Filipino goodness

NOTES
You could add some chilli, as either a pinch of dried chilli flakes and a chopped fresh chilli if you want add a bit of a kick to this.

Belly pork is nice and moist, thanks to the large amount of fat it contains. You could use pork tender loin instead which is leaner and takes less cooking, so you can reduce the cooking time. The dish would also work with chicken, in which case I'd suggest skinless, bone-in thighs which have a bit more flavour than breast fillet. Beef would also work.

Sweet potato works quite well, though if cooked too long can go quite soft. Like many of these slow-cooked stews, root vegetables stand up to long cooking, so carrots work well, regular potatoes would also be good. Otherwise, that old standby of squash or something like celeriac perhaps would work.

As I mentioned above, I have visited Manila. As much as the American influence in the Philippines is all permeating, but they have found some great ways to subvert it. Take, for example, the Jeepney. A surplus of WWII Jeeps were taken and converted into small buses which have been a vital form of public transportever since. They are usually colourfully decorated, and as individual as their drivers. They are the Philippines' answer to Thailand's tuktuks or India's bicycle rickshaws. Given the horrendous traffic in Manila (the 2nd worst in the world), there is no better way to experience heavy air pollution than in the back of a pimped out former wartime military vehicle.

Jeepneys
Source: http://www.positivelyfilipino.com/magazine/riding-a-filipino-jeepney-101

When I was visiting Manila, we were sat in a bar enjoying a beer, and there were hawkers coming round to sell all sorts of things such as pork scratchings (awesome), other snacks, eggs, live snakes and knock-off viagra. How could I tell it was counterfeit Viagra? It wasn't hard.

Source: https://giphy.com/gifs/drum-tsss-badum-kPIswn0RfPTGxOvDj5

This is another of those amazing, comforting stews that I've done a few of (here, here and here, for example), that are from Asia, based around some sort of fermented soy beans. It's interesting that such food that we might consider as being winter staples are so common in a lot of countries that are actually warmer than our own.

I mention that the Philippines is the only predominantly Christian country in Asia, but they have their very own style of Catholicism, analagous to the Thaipusam festival celebrated in the Hindu faith, where, on Good Friday every year, some people are so taken in their religious ecstasy that they actually have themselves crucified. Personally I prefer the Easter Bunny as a way to celebrate Easter. Anyway, this is my in for the obliquely relevant music video that has become a feature of this blog. Get a load of this slice if camp 90s Europop from Swedes Army of Lovers which was written about this practice in The Philippines.

I'm crucified
Army of Lovers

I'm obviously doing a major disservice to the country. With a huge number of islands, covering huge metropololises of Manila, Quezon and Davao to relatively unspoilt jungle and untold kilometres of coastline populated by a huge variety of indiginous peoples, there is a rich and diverse culinary culture to be explored, so if anyone wants to fund me a trip to go over and discover this, all donations will be gratefully received. You can guarantee the resulting TV series would be more entertaining and a damnsight funnier than anything that Rick Stein has come up with, but you might not want to watch it with your Mum.

Pork in cider

Cider in rock
The Worzels

Traditionally, cider has the reputation as being something associated with country bumpkins in the West Country. The Worzels even did a song about it, parodying Una Paloma Blanco (see above). More recently, however, its image is very much Janus-faced. At its best, it's a wonderfully refreshing drink, catching the best of the British summer in a glass, and can have depth and complexity similar to wine. At its, worst it's diabolical, mass-produced. massively over-strong and is directly responsible for a torrent of tramp piss in public spaces across the country. As booze goes, cheap white cider offers the very most bang for the buck, being able to buy a big bottle of a couple of litres of 5% cider for about £2 which is why it's the tipple of choice for the itinerant and teenagers alike. No park is complete without an empty plastic bottle of White Lightning, along with the dog ends of a couple of spliffs. It's a scene that, were they alive today, JMW Turner or especially John Constable would have immortalised in oil on canvas.

Wivenhoe Park by John Constable (1816)

If you look closely, you can see the two guys in the boat are getting wankered on cheap cider

Source: https://www.atlasofplaces.com/painting/landscape-and-place/

It's fair to say that, in the UK at least, many people's first exposure to alcohol is with a cheeky sip of Woodpecker Cider when they're a teenager (or, heaven forbid, Babycham, which is not actually cheap champagne, but is in fact cider's pear cousin, perry). Woodpecker is dreadful. It's largely tasteless, but sweet enough to give you a molar cavity by just thinking about it. Couple this to the myriad of sweet fruit ciders that abound today, it's like the alcopop explosion of the 90s all over again. Those were the days. Hooper's Hooch, Metz, Bacardi Breezers. Many a teenager will have woken up with a splitting headache and the flavour of one of these aberrations in their mouth from the night before (usually mixed with the taste of vomit), and mushrooms growing on their teeth because of the sugar content. What goes around, comes around, but with a slicker marketing spin on it. Just don't get me started on Snakebite and Black

Cooking with booze is a great thing. If I'd bothered to do any research, I'm sure I'd find it's to do with the huge variety of chemicals produced during fermentation and the same thing could be said of recipes with other fermented ingredients, like gochujang soya bean paste as used here, for example. I've already featured a few dishes that include some sort of alcohol, by way of beer, wine or even rum and I've previously used cider in pulled pork. Like that recipe, it works so well in this dish as apples are a natural partner to pork, hence apple sauce with roast pork. Couple this to the aromatic herbs of thyme, bay and especially sage (again, think sage and onion stuffing), this stew is a wonderful, easy to make weekday dinner

INGREDIENTS

2 tbsp olive oil

1 leek, trimmed and cleaned then cut into 1cm slices

2 garlic cloves, crushed

1 stick celery, finely shopped

200g mushrooms, roughly chopped

1 medium carrot, peeled, topped, tailed and cut into rounds

250g pork tenderloin fillet

200ml decent dry cider

1 vegetable stock cube

Large sprig of fresh sage leaves, finely chopped (about a tablespoon when chopped), or 1 tsp dried sage

Small sprig fresh thyme, leaves stripped from stems and chopped (or a pinch of dried thyme)

1 bay leaf

1 large tsp Dijon mustard

1 apple, peeled, cored and chopped (I used two small Gala, but traditionally it would be a Bramley)

1 large tsp cornflour, mixed with a little water

Salt and pepper

Herbs

Sage and thyme

And, yes, I'm one of those foodie wankers that has a mezzaluna to chop herbs

RECIPE

Heat the oil in a pan and add the leeks, stirring until soft (10 minutes).

Add the garlic and celery and continue to fry for 5 minutes.

Add the mushrooms and continue to fry for a further 5 minutes.

Add the carrot, cider, herbs, stock cube and 200 ml water then gently bring to a boil.

Add the pork and stir.

Stir in the Dijon mustard.

Mix up the cornflour in water and pour into the pan.

Stir well, turn down to low, cover, and simmer for an hour and a half or so (long enough for the carrots to become tender).

Serve it up. Serves two easily and works really well with mashed potato.

NOTES

The leek adds a subtlety that is missing with onion. but you could use an onion instead if you don't have a leek. Likewise, you could use a different form of pork or even braise pork chops in this sauce

Add a splash of cream to make the sauce more rich. Not an option in our house as Mrs Sweary is not a big fan of creamy sauces, but really, it would elevate this dish to something that bit more special

I recall something Delia Smith had written about how pork goes well with apples because they come from the same sort of terrain. Your wild boar, where pigs come from, are very much at home in the old orchard.

Choose a good quality cider for this. Nothing too fancy or expensive, but not Woodpecker or, heaven forbid, some cheap white cider. The offerings from Westons would be good, like the example below. Hell, Strongbow might even work as a budget option, just nothing that's got other fruit in it as it would be too sweet.

Henry Weston's Vintage Cider

A good cider for this recipe

Leek, mushrooms, carrot, pork and cider. This dish couldn't be any more rustic if its parents were first cousins and it was caught fucking a sheep. That's not a bad thing (I mean the rustic thing, not the near incest or the sheep worrying, obviously) as this is good, honest food with no pretence. Indeed, it's a very good thing and adds yet another great recipe to make a lie of my scoffing at the awful cuisine of England which I've mentioned on a few occasions.

I have to do a Rick Stein and twat on about the Constable picture I posted above. This is Wivenhoe Park which is now the site of the University of Essex, where I studied. This was where I spent many years, through two degrees  (and quite a few Snakebites and Black, especially early on), and where I met my wife. I had a postcard of that very paintings on my wall throughout my student days. I did get wankered by the side of that lake on many occasions, though not usually on cider.

Korea advice 1: Yin. Slow cooker pork gochujang stew.

South Korean flag
I kind of like it

It takes a lot to become an expert on a particular topic, especially if you're talking about an entire country. Take knowledge of Korea, for example. I recently got rid of a Hyundai car that I'd had for for 8 years, so that pretty much makes me an expert on Korea. Basically, I'm Kim Jong Un. To be honest, he's probably not the best person to compare yourself to as he's a brutal dictator who's as mad as a hatter, and he's got nuclear weapons. He's basically an oriental, slightly more agreeable version of Donald Trump, with better hair (which is saying something as, let's face it, KJU's hair is fucking terrible) though is less likely to be in jail come the start of 2021 (this prophecy might not age well, so ignore it if I'm wrong). Saying all this, to an ignorant Westerner like me, there's not a lot of choice in well known Koreans in the Western public sphere. Apart from him, there's Psy, who sang Gangnam Style; and there's Oddjob from Bond movie, Goldfinger; and the bloke who created the Moonies, Sun Myung Moon. Oh, and speaking of Moons, there's also Ban Ki-Moon, former UN Secretary General. This is more of a yardstick of my general ignorance of Korean culture, and not of the fact that there aren't large numbers of famous Koreans. I mean, K-Pop alone has probably hundreds of well known people, but I'm not really an afficianado and couldn't name any of them, apart from Psy, if he counts. We do owe K-Pop fans a debt, however, as it was a group of K-Pop fans that sabotaged a Trump election rally to ensure it was less than half full. thus rendering the massive stadium booked for the event looking pitfiully empty

Famous Koreans

(clockwise from top left: Bond baddie, Oddjob (the character is Korean, but the actor is actually Japanese-American wrestler Harold Sakata); Cult leader and self-proclaimed Messiah, Rev Sun Myung Moon; Gangnam Stylist, Psy and former UN Director General, Ban-Ki Moon.

(sources of images https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Oddjob, https://www.imdb.com/name/nm0600671/  https://news.harvard.edu/gazette/story/2014/11/u-n-secretary-general-ban-ki-moon-honored/, https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/technology-20483087

Oppan Gangnam Style!
Apparently it's a satirical song about rich people in Seoul

What else do I know about Korea? Well, obviously, it's not one, but two Koreas following the war in the 50s, or, to use a football cliche, a country of two halves. It's got a lot of contradictions. It's a country that was literally torn apart by conflict, but has given the world a sport that's so violent, its aim is to try and kick an opponent's arsehole out through their mouth, taekwondo. It's a modern, high-tech country that clings onto traditional values, despite having American culture rammed down its throat. Hell, even the flag of S Korea features the yin-yang symbol (see above)

So, this is a cooking blog, where's the recipe? Well, I've covered dishes from at least three corners of the world, if not four, but so far not Korea. To be honest I didn't know much about Korean food, apart from the offerings from a great Korean restaurant in Manchester called Koreana, which I went to a few times and does great food. To my shame, I can't remember much about it (mainly because I was usually pissed by the time I got there), but the barbecued beef ribs were sublime, and Korean BBQ is probably the most well known contribution of Korea to world cuisine. Otherwise the most famous dish of Korea is probably the fermented cabbage of kimchi. The third most famous foodstuff of Korea is probably gochujang, a fermented soya bean paste with chilli. As soya bean products go, it probably just scrapes into the top 10 in terms of international recognition, after soy sauce, hoisin sauce, tofu, black bean sauce, yellow bean sauce etc. Don't be fooled by the fact you might not have heard about it before, it's a fantastic ingredient, with the rich flavour of fermented beans and a deep, but subtle, chilli heat which makes for wonderfully warming and filling stews like this. This is another of those recipes that you try once and know it's a keeper, and that you'll make again and again.

TIMING

Preparation: 15 minutes

Cooking: 30 minutes or so on the hob plus 4 or more in the slow cooker (see notes for alternative timings using hob or oven)

INGREDIENTS
2 tbsp vegetable oil
1 leek, trimmed, tailed, cleaned and sliced into 1cm discs
2 garlic cloves, crushed
A thumb-sized piece of ginger, grated
200g pork loin fillet, cut into bite-sized chunks

250g potatoes, peeled and cut into 2cm cubes

150g mushrooms, chopped

1 red or green chilli, finely sliced (or pinch of dried chilli flakes)
2 tbsp gochujang paste
1 tbsp sesame oil

The main flavours
(from left, clockwise: garlic, ginger, gochujang paste, chilli flakes)

RECIPE
Heat up the oil in a heavy pan and add the leeks, frying to soften for a couple of minutes

Add the ginger and garlic and continue to fry

Throw in the potatoes and mushrooms and continue to sautee for a couple of minutes.

Stir in the gochujang paste and chilli

Pour in 200 ml of water and the sesame oil.

Stir well and bring to a gentle simmer.

Transfer to the slow cooker, if you're using it, cover, and set to medium for four hours or more.

In the pan before putting in the slow cooker

Serve with rice (either plain or egg-fried) to soak up the rich, red sauce.

Makes enough for 2 people easily, with some left over for lunch the next day.

NOTES
I couldn't get hold of actual gochujang paste the first few times I made this recipe, so had to rely on this bastardised version from Blue Dragon. It worked quite well and had the right flavour, but was a bit sweet and didn't have the depth of taste you get with actual gochujang paste. Next time I tried to get it, the supermarket brought sriracha instead of gochujang which is the equivalent of, when you're fixing a bike, asking some one to pass you a particular spanner and them giving you a kick in the bollocks. I did order the real deal from an online Asian food shop and the difference is immense. This BD version still makes a decent version of this stew, mind, and is easier to get hold of.

Possibly your best chance of GCJ
It's not too bad and is available in supermarkets

The original recipe suggests courgette in this dish, and it is a good match, but for the purposes of slow cooking, mushrooms work better as they stand up to long, slow cooking, as would carrots. I've also tried this green beans but add them (or courgettes) later in the cooking so they don't disintegrate. The potatoes are essential though, because they really absorb the flavour of the sauce. Leeks make a nice, subtle change from onion that is in almost every other dish I make. I've not tried it, but you might be able to get away with a good vegetarian version by omitting the pork and upping the potato content or adding a pulse, like chickpeas. Also, feel free to omit the green chilli. Gochujang is not very hot, but it does have some kick if you're not used to spicy food.

In tribute to the South Korean flag, I'm making this dish one of a series of two, designated "Yin", to go with the similar recipe to follow soon, which I'll call "Yang".

I adapted this from a recipe in a cook book I've had for a while of Japanese and Korean dishes. I've tweaked it for making in a slow cooker, and messed with the ingredients a bit.

You can do this on the hob or as a casserole in the oven. On the hob, given it's made with tenderloin fillet, it shouldn't take more than an hour or two. Allow a couple of hours if you're doing it in the oven in an oven proof casserole dish, though make up in a pan (unless your casserole dish is OK for use on the hob).

So, apart fron Psy's opus above, where's the tenuously linked music video that's become something of a regular feature on these recipes? Well, you know me, I'm a Seoul man.

S(e)oul man by Sam and Dave

When I say I'm an expert on Korea, I'm obviously being ironic. However, I did have a job interview some time ago where the interviewer rather pompously stated he was a world expert on the Japanese healthcare system. I popped his ego by saying that he was, apart from a few million Japanese people. Not for the first time, I smart-mouthed myself out of a job, but, call it sour grapes if you like, he was a wanker and I wouldn't have lasted very long with that comany. See, you might get anecdotes from Rick Stein, but not a single one of them ends with him calling the person in the ancedote a wanker

Latino Pork and beans

The loss of Native American territory as the modern United States was settled through the 19th century
http://www.thewire.com/national/2012/07/how-west-was-lost-native-americans/54797/

Commonly spoken about in cowboy films, pork and beans takes its place in culinary mythology as the dish that fueled pioneer America when settlers forged west into unexplored territory. Well, unexplored by white people anyway. I mean, it was already home to quite a lot of people who were living there quite happily already (but not for much longer, see the graphic above) but they weren't white European settlers and their story never made it into films so they were clearly not very important.

On a lighter note, a diet consisting largely of beans does have some unwanted side-effect, and you'd not want to share a tent with anyone who eats like this. 

Cowboys eating beans

 Mel Brooks captures the pain of the human condition that can only be relieved by lifting your buttock and farting

Apparently there is also a tinned version of this famous American staple in the States which sounds quite vile. Rumour has it that the pork content is of such poor quality and so insignificant that you might be suspicious that it's made of the sweepings from the floor of an abattoir. As I say, this is hearsay as I've never tried it, but I'd imagine it's something like the full English breakfast in a can which looks and sounds equally revolting. I've also never tried this and, indeed, wouldn't want to eat it if my life depended on it and the only way to consume it was in suppository form. I think I'd prefer a shit sandwich with hemlock dressing and a polonium salsa

Going from the ridiculous to the sublime, this dish is based on a recipe that appeared in the Guardian Saturday cooking supplement (for example they suggest you soak and boil dried beans when I say, in best Sweary style, fuck that when good quality tinned ones are available) though this itself was actually based on Brazilian feijola. It includes Spanish chorizo, Mexican chipotle and dark (ie British/Irish) beer so it's not quite authentically Brazilian. It's similar in a lot of ways to my chilli recipe but it does taste quite different and is another slow cooked classic made in one pot. There is something wonderful about trying a new recipe and it turning out so great you know it is a keeper, and this is one of those dishes

INGREDIENTS
400g belly pork
2 tbsp olive oil
1 large onion, chopped
4-6 garlic cloves, crushed
1 stick of celery, finely chopped
1 medium sized carrot chopped
50g chorizo, chopped
1 tin of black beans, drained
2 tsp Dijon mustard
1 tbsp cumin
1 tbsp chipotle paste
½ tsp chilli flakes
1½ tbsp tomato puree
1tsp mixed herbs
1 yellow pepper, chopped
1 tin tomatoes
200ml dark beer
500 ml water
1 vegetable stock cube

It's all in the chopping
Celery, carrot, garlic, onion and chorizo

RECIPE
Remove the skin/crackling from the pork belly (I posted a blog mentioning my fatal attraction to pork scratchings recently so you ought to realise there's no way in hell I'm letting this go to waste. See the notes for what you can do with this)

Heat the oil in a pan, add the pork and brown it for a few minutes. Remove with a slotted spoon

Add the onion and garlic to fry for 5 minuted before adding the carrot and celery. Allow these to sweat out for 5-10 minutes before adding the chorizo and fry for another five minutes when the chorizo should colour up the vegetables.

More ingredients ready to go in

From 11 o'clock: mixed herbs, tomato puree, chipotle paste, black pepper, cumin

Add the cumin, black pepper, herbs, chipotle paste, chilli flakes, mustard and tomato puree then mix before adding the chopped yellow peppers to soften for a few minutes.

Pour in the tinned tomatoes, beer, water and crumble in the stock cubes before mixing well.

Add the beans and return the pork to the pan.

Simmer, covered, on a low heat for 3 hours or more (this would be a good slow cooker recipe). The pork should be almost falling apart.

Serve with rice, bread or baked or sauteed potatoes (roasted sweet potatoes would be fucking amazing with this).

A panful of porky joy

NOTES
This is what to do with the crackling:
- Ensure the skin is well scored into 2cm strips (should be done already, but use a sharp knife to do it yourself if not).
-Chuck it in a pan of water, heat it to boiling and simmer, covered, for 45 minutes.
-Pat it dry with kitchen roll, sprinkle salt on it, then wrap it in more kitchen roll for 30 minutes.
-Put it into an ovenproof dish and put it in a hot oven at 200°C for 45 minutes.
That's fantastic pork scratchings right there. In the recipe I adapted for this blog entry it states you use this as a garnish on the stew but I'd say fuck that and eat the scratchings on their own as a snack.

Chipotle chillies are fantastic, and the heat and warm smoky flavour the paste brings the dish is wonderful. On the other hand, chipotle paste isn't that easy to come by in the UK, unless you go to one of the really big supermarkets or some wanky Mexican deli. I mean, I make no secret of the fact that I'm a foodie wanker and I got hold of it, but improvisation is the bedrock of a great dish. Add more chilli flakes and a couple of teaspoons of smoked paprika instead. Damn it, even swap some of the chorizo for smoked bacon to give the same flavour if you can't get smoked paprika.

Mexican delis aren't that common in the UK, mainly on account of there not being a significant Mexican community over here. For example, where I live, the Mexican community is incredibly small. So small, in fact, that he lives in the centre of town and is actually my Spanish teacher.

The recipe would work with pork filet as well as the belly used in this incarnation and this would also be lower in fat and cook quicker.

As I mentioned above, the black beans are available in tins so why bother soaking and boiling the dried variety? Seriously, why make something more complicated than it needs to be? Sure, they'll be a bit cheaper, but how fucking tight are you to want to do that if you're already paying for chipotle paste and pork belly but want to save 10p on the beans? Also, make sure you get black turtle beans, not Chinese black beans which are fermented soya beans and totally different. The tin I bought for this was from Dunn's River (though if you can't find these, red kidney beans would also work):

This is the sort of dish Thomasina Miers might feature in her column. She is one of those trendy celeb chefs, slightly less trendy than the Yott, but she won Masterchef and her speciality is fantastic Central American Latino food that demands things like quail and day-old brioche. It's probably no revelation to say I've never won Masterchef. To be fair, I've never actually applied to enter the show as it's not really my kind of cooking. In fact the only reason I'd try to get on the show might be to try and infect John Torode and Greg Wallace with norovirus.

Pasta with ham and mushrooms

Time for a sweary confession. It's hopefully obvious from this blog that I really love food and, more, that I'm fairly discerning about what I eat. I believe that great meals need good quality ingredients. All this is true, but I absolutely fucking adore pork scratchings. Pig rind, pork crackling, pork crunch, call it what you will, but in my opinion scratchings are the food of the fucking gods. Quite honestly, to me, scratchings are the ambrosia (no, not the rice pudding, you knob) to the nectar (no, not the loyalty scheme, you knob) that is beer. I would live on them if I could, though you would definitely be well advised to stand upwind of me if I did as they do not make a pleasantly aromatic bedfellow with my gut microflora.

I'm so much of a scratchings nerd it's often the second thing I look for in a new pub, after what beer they do. The most exotic of these was when I was getting pissed on San Miguel (Filippino version, not the Spanish version. They are supposed to be the same but they taste very different) it is in a small beach bar in Manila (in a street, not on a beach). They had vendors coming round to sell all sorts of weird things including knock-off watches, knock-off viagra (at least I assume it was knock-off) and even live snakes. Then a guy appeared who was selling actual pork scratchings which were fantastic. Of course, scratchings are also quite possibly the very worst thing you can actually eat: thick with fat, caked in salt and can shatter your teeth if you get bad batch. And don't even get me started on the smell that literally farts from the bag when you open it. Negative points aside, the point of all this is that, with all due respect to my vegetarian, Muslim and Jewish friends, surely pigs are meant to be eaten if even their packaging tastes so fantastic.

Filipino pork scratchings!

Obviously, there is far more to (from?) the pig than scratchings. There is a phrase from Spain saying they use "everything but the squeal" from the pig, (which is also the title of a book by a British expat living in Galicia), in that pretty much the entire animal is used in some way. If you think about it, there are a multitude of things derived from the original pig. Scratchings I've already mentioned, then there's bacon, sausages of various types, uncured pork meat in various forms, a whole anatomy of offal and even the blood in the form of blackpudding. There are less "meaty" products like lard and suet, then there are other uses for pigskin as leather and gelatine. Let's also not forget a wealth of medical uses: porcine insulin is used in treating diabetics and pig skin can be used to make dressings to treat burns patients. Pig products even find their way into cosmetics. 

I couldn't do a comedy/cookery blog mentioning Spam and not put this, could I?

One of the greatest product of the pig is ham. Like any food, ham can vary from the sublime, like Jamon Iberico from Spain, to the revolting, like tinned spiced ham otherwise known as Spam (so bad they named nuisance e-mail after it). In fairness, Spam is not a good representation of actual ham since it is at least partially mechanically recovered meat and not entirely pig in origin. Generally, real ham tastes good however much you pay for it.This is especially true if you intend to use it in a recipe like this rather than stick it in a sandwich. True, cheaper versions are pumped full of water so you're getting less meat per penny, but the flavour should still be there which, for the purposes of this recipe, is all you need.

This is yet another cheap, quick and easy meal. These factors are all well and good, and they form a bit of a theme in many of my blog entries. The most important thing, however is that this dish really tastes fucking fantastic which is a more prominent theme I hope runs through every single one of my recipes.

INGREDIENTS
1 tbsp olive oil
1/2 red onion, finely chopped
3 cloves of garlic, crushed
100g chestnut mushrooms roughly chopped
150g cooked ham, roughly chopped (smoked if you prefer)
pinch of fennel seeds
pinch of mixed herbs
dash of lemon juice
1/2 a vegetable stock cube
100ml red wine
100ml pasata
Black pepper

All ready to cook
From 9 o'clock: ham, mushrooms, garlic, red onion

RECIPE
Heat the oil in a good heavy pan and add the onion and garlic.
Slowly cook the onion for 5-10 minutes then throw in the mushrooms.

Keep sauteing until they are cooked and add the ham to warm through.

Add the fennel seeds, herbs and lemon juice before crumbling in the half stock cube.

Pour in the wine and pasata and stir well, adding freshly ground black pepper. Leave to simmer for 5-10 minutes.

Serve on pasta. Tagliatelle works quite well

Ready to eat

NOTES
You can use smoked or regular ham. The tastes are different but both make a great dish.

For the version I took photos of for this recipe I used a cheap off-cuts pack of smoked ham from my local super market. It's not going in a sandwich and you're chopping it up so the original form doesn't matter too much and this was also quite cheap.You could use panchetta if you were feeling particularly foodie wankerish but it is a little over-powering in this dish.

I'm glossing over the recent WHO report naming  processed meat products such as ham as carcinogenic.

Yet again I need to point out that, while my regular blog guest star, Rick Stein, may mention being somewhere exotic like the Philippines in his painfully meandering stories, he probably wouldn't be talking about getting rat-arsed on cheap local beer and being offered drugs to give you a prolonged stiffy, or indeed pork scratchings. Sweary Chef wins again.

Afelia Pork

INTRODUCTION
As you may have guessed, I have a very British love of the double entendre (and, yes, the irony of something as British as football hooliganism and binge drinking having a French name does not escape me). To really enjoy a good double entendre you do have to need it to be accompanied by the appropriate sound and all the double entendres in this blog update will have a convenient player to give you a sound from that British institution, the Carry On films, to enhance your smutty enjoyment.



Cookery is chocker-block with double entendres from your coq-au-vin...



...to your spotted dick.



Afelia pork is another, though slightly disappointing in the double entendre front. Obviously it would be sound even more rude if it was made with steak and was called afelia rump.



This double entendre-rich blog entry builds on my previous one for pulled pork, though that didn't benefit from the sounds. That recipe is one of the rash of similar dishes that have been doing the rounds for various cuts of meat for a while now, and I can see why they are so popular as I really like my meat pulled.



If that sounds appealing, do look it up. You'll find my entry very satisfying.



INGREDIENTS
1 heaped tbsp whole coriander seeds
Juice of 1 lemon (works out about 2 tbsp)
2 tbsp dry white wine
3 large cloves of garlic, crushed
Salt and pepper
500g lean pork meat in 2-3cm cubes (tenderloin is good)
1 tbsp olive oil 

Meat mixed with the marinade, ready to go in the fridge to steep

RECIPE
Crush the coriander seeds in a pestle and mortar. Yes, I'm THAT kind of cookery prick who has a pestle and mortar. Crushing them between two plates also works if you don't happen to be a foodie wanker.

Mix the crushed seeds with the lemon juice, wine, garlic, salt and pepper and half of the olive oil, then mix well.

Add the pork, and stir so that it's well covered by the liquid, cover and put it in the fridge to marinate for at least a couple of hours. This allows the marinade to tenderise the meat as well as making it taste nicer.

Be aware that your fridge will smell like Dracula's worst nightmare with the garlic.

Pork on the hob, cooking

Heat the rest of the oil in a frying pan or wok on the hob and add the meat plus any remaining  marinade and keep stirring on a medium heat until the pork is cooked, about 20 minutes.

The liquid will reduce down to an almost syrupy consistency.

Serve with roasted peppers and perhaps a rice dish, like my recipe for tomato pilaf.

And here it is ready to eat

NOTES
You could make quite a feast out of this with a starter and dessert. As a starter, a nice soup and it doesn't come any nicer than the wet, fishy mouthful of clam chowder.



A good dessert to have with this dish would be something fruity, perhaps pears poached in port, since there isn't anything nicer than a big juicy pear.



This recipe doesn't have any butter in it, but I do like to stick a knob in when I'm cooking.



Afelia is usually a dish made with red wine from Cyprus but this is Delia Smith's version made with white. You can always rely on Delia but I'm a bigger fan of Fanny Craddock's recipes as well. Delia's are great, but I love the taste of Fanny's.



My wife can't think of double entendres so I had to give her one.



  Thanks to http://www.carryon.org.uk/sounds_frm.htm who I've linked to for all the Carry On sounds

Pulled pork

Not that long ago if you threw a shitty stick down the magazine aisle in Smith's you'd render at least three different magazines containing a recipe for pulled pork unsalable due to contamination with faecal matter. The recipes were everywhere. It's probably less popular now but I thought I'd give it a go because a: I've tried it in a restaurant and the way it melted in my mouth was like pig-flavoured chocolate and b: the name gives the potential to make more double entendres than you can shake the aforementioned shitty stick at, which is ideal for a blog such as this. Combining this with elements of the dish conchinita pibil (slow-roasted pork in banana leaves with orange), originating from the Yucatan in Mexico, and it is potentially a great way to do pork. This was one of my favourite dishes while we were on holiday there.
I fused a recipe from Simon Rimmer (another great opportunity for double entendres) and one for conchinita pibil to produce my version.

INGREDIENTS
Pork rub (ooer, matron)
1-1.5 kg pork shoulder (boneless, rolled. Needs to have plenty of fat in order to keep the meat moist)
1tsp ground coriander
1tsp ground cumin
1tsp dried oregano
1tsp smoked paprika
1tsp chiptole paste
2 garlic cloves, crushed
Juice of half a lime
1tbsp olive oil

Cooking liquid
2 medium onions, thickly sliced
3 cloves of garlic, sliced
1 large orange, juiced and husks retained
200ml cider
50ml white wine vinegar (or cider vinegar)
2 tbsp Worcestershire sauce

RECIPE
Dry off the pork joint with kitchen roll. You could use a hair dryer if torrential diarrhoea is your thing, but I'll stick to the paper towels personally.

Mix together the coriander, cumin. oregano, smoked paprika, garlic, chipotle and lime juice to make a paste and rub it into the pork.

Rubbed and ready for the fridge

Cover and put in the fridge and leave it overnight if possible, or for at least a couple of hours.

Put it in a roasting tin with the onions, the rest of the garlic and the orange husks.

Mix together the cider, orange juice, vinegar and Worcester sauce.

Pour the liquid over the meat, cover the tin tightly with foil and replace to the fridge for another hour or two

Remove from the fridge and put it into the oven at 140 to 150°C.

Roast for at least 3 hours like this.

Under the foil, 3 hours in

Remove the foil and turn the oven up to 220° for 15 minutes to finish the meat off.

Take out of the oven and allow to rest for 20 minutes

I admit this recipe takes a frigging long time, but that's the idea: cook it long and slow so the meat stays moist and tender.

Serve the meat by tearing it apart with two forks in the cooking liquid so it stays moist and bathed in the unctuous, tangy cooking liquor.

You could serve this as a twist to the pork in a Sunday roast, but it really  as something a bit more exotic with buns and coleslaw.

Ready to serve on a bun
(with homemade coleslaw and potato wedges)

NOTES
As I mention, you serve the pork by shredding it with a pair of forks. This is the somewhat disappointing reason it's called "pulled", because you pull it apart, and not because of some revolutionary cooking technique like "jerking", or even an obscene reference to Rebecca Loos. Anyway, the point is there's no need for any of that carving shit. In fact, I do wonder if the dish originated as something to cook for people who weren't allowed to have knives. I served it up with roasted butternut squash and  sweet potato wedges which meant the whole meal had a similar colour to Dale Winton (I believe the Dulux colour chart calls it "Genial Host Orange"), not that this ought to put you off.

One further tip: feel free to take the words "cumin", "paprika", "pulled", "pork" and "Rimmer" and you too can make your own schoolboy-humour cookery blog.