Monday, October 31, 2011

Pancetta - Pork Fat of the Gods


I grew up watching cooking shows. About the time I moved to Texas (’99) Food Network started getting some legs and putting on some decent programming. Some of my favorite shows during that period were the original (Japanese) Iron Chef, and Emeril Live. My whole family would watch football all day on a Sunday, eat some delicious food, and camp our asses on the couch to watch cooking shows later that night – when things like soccer, school or work didn’t get in the way. In retrospect, this may actually explain quite a bit about why I turned out the way I did…

For anyone who watched “Emeril Live” like I did, you know he always had these ridiculous catch phrases that his slack jawed hokie audience would cheer for every time he said them. The guy was/is actually a pretty great chef, and as opposed to Sandra Lee and Rachel Ray, was inspiring people to cook the right way, you know, using actual ingredients, making things from scratch, and understanding technique as opposed to convenience. He dumbed plenty of things down, but all that was easily offset by all the things he did right. One of his favorite catch phrases, and certainly my favorite, was “pork fat rules”. Though I didn’t quite understand it fully until I started cooking for myself – there was just something so inherently wonderful about pork fat that it had to be right.

Yes Please


Around 19 I really started cooking for myself and tried experimenting with different techniques, styles, and flavors that I had picked up from my dad, TV, and magazines. The first recipe I created from the ground up was my attempt at a “sauceless” pasta. Having recently had pancetta for the first time, I decided to base a dish around pancetta, and the liquid gold it renders out. Pancetta – for those not in the know, is an Italian bacon that is cured (but not smoked) and much more highly spiced. I’ve said it’s one of the two greatest substances known to man once, and I will say it rather unashamedly again. The whole concept of the dish was a “pork fat rules” mentality: I was going to make a dish where the “sauce” was a ton of pork fat and some other chunky ingredients.

Bam!ing all the way to the bank

What I came up with is the Farfalle with Pancetta dish listed below. It’s quite a sentimental dish for me – one of the ultimate comfort foods. It was the first recipe I had created of my own volition. It was the first (and sadly last meal) I was able to cook for my Grandpa before he passed and a memory I recall fondly. It’s my favorite person in the whole world’s favorite dish. It’s the first dish I ever taught at a “cooking class”. It’s what I make when I’m feeling really high or really low as food for the soul. It’s going to be the first thing I put on whatever restaurant I open someday. It’s what I made for a bunch of friends last Sunday and something I hope you all enjoy as much as I do.


Farfalle with Pancetta and Chicken

½ lb of Pancetta – sliced on a 4 (about the thickness of your pinky) and cubed
2-3 chicken breasts (about 1.5-2 lbs), cubed
1 white onion, diced
3-4 cloves of garlic, minced
1 10oz container of Cherub Tomatoes, halved
1 can of large black pitted olives, rinsed and halved
1 lb of Farfalle/Bowtie Pasta
Olive Oil
Fresh Basil
Crushed Red Pepper Flakes
Grated Parmesan Cheese

Prep work in this dish is HIGHLY rewarded. It’s a relatively quick and simple preparation – so long as you have your shit together. Do your prep ahead of time, set off to the side, and work in the steps located. It’s a 2 pot meal if done correctly, and can take as little as 45 minutes including chopping and cooking if you can get the prep done quickly.

Start by cubing your chicken into bite size pieces. Set aside in a bowl, season with salt and pepper and a drizzle of olive oil.

Cube your pancetta into pieces about the size of your thumb and set aside.

Mince your onion, garlic, and halve the tomatoes and black olives. Wait to chop the basil until the last minute. It oxidizes and turns brown when you cut it too early in the process, and the fresh lift and color it gives the dish is maximized when you chop at the absolute last second.

Heat your pasta water in one pot. Get a Dutch Oven / large pot heated over medium high heat. When hot, add enough olive oil to coat the pan and add your chicken pieces. Brown on all sides (until cooked), and remove everything into a separate bowl.

Turn the heat down to medium, and add your pancetta. Stir it every minute or two, for about 8-12 minutes until the pancetta has turned golden and crispy, and rendered out most all of it’s fat. If it’s not rendering much fat, add a bit of olive oil to the bottom of the pan after a few minutes and continue cooking. Remove the pancetta from the pan but leave all of the pancetta fat in the pan. The fat from the pancetta is what will basically become your sauce. Don’t lose a drop if at all possible.

Turn the heat back up to medium high and add your onions. Salt and pepper the onions immediately and wait for them to turn translucent – approximately 6-8 minutes. 

Perfect time to add the garlic

Add the garlic and as much red pepper flakes as you think you can handle and let it cook for another 30 second to a minute. If you’re not a spice fan, add at least a little bit. For the rest of you, the crushed red pepper flakes really add a tremendous depth to the dish, so don’t be shy. Add your halved tomatoes and olives and wait for the juices to release on the tomatoes. At this point, you should add your farfalle pasta to salted pasta water.

Continue cooking and stirring the “sauce” as your pasta cooks. Add the chicken and pancetta (along with all of their juices) back to the pot once the tomatoes have started to break down a bit. You can turn down the temperature to medium again once the tomatoes start to break down. If the sauce is looking a bit tight (not much liquid) add a bit of the pasta water. Once the pasta is al dente, drain the pasta (BUT NEVER EVER EVER EVER EVER RINSE), and add the pasta to your pot. Turn off the heat, toss the pasta in the sauce, thoroughly mixing the ingredients together. Add a heavy chiffonade of basil to the pot and a few heavy handfuls of freshly grated parmesan cheese. Stir to combine and serve - or transfer to a large bowl so the noodles don't overcook.

Should this be censored?
Let me know when you have a chance to try this. It will rock your world. Guaranteed.

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