Search for goat chops - 29 results found

roasted marinated goat loin; tomatoes; celtuce sauté, pinoli

When I spotted Lynn Haven’s stall in the Greenmarket on Wednesday I was reminded that I hadn’t even thought about goat meat in quite a while. After a discussion about what was inside the freezer boxes that day, and a reflection on how much cooking heat I might be able to tolerate in the kitchen on a July night, I decided on one of her tiny racks. I picked the loin, mostly because it looked so perfectly compact, but also because its weight seemed just right for a modest serving of meat for 2 people.

  • one goat loin rack (.82 pounds) from Lynn Haven in the Union Square Greenmarket, dry-marinated in the refrigerator for almost 4 hours in a mixture of rosemary leaves from Stokes Farm, removed from their stems; one medium crushed bay leaf from Westside Market; a bit of zest from an organic lemon from Whole Foods Market; a small part of one crushed dried dark habanada pepper; sea salt, and freshly-ground Tellicherry pepper, allowed to sit, covered, inside the refrigerator for a few hours, then brought to room temperature over an hour before ready to be roasted, at which time it was dried with paper towels and coated lightly with olive oil, the oven preheated to 425º and a heavy oval enameled cast iron pan placed inside for 10 minutes, the goat arranged one of its flesh sides down inside the hot pan and roasted in the preheated oven for about 15 minutes (for rare to medium rare doneness), allowed to rest 7 minutes or so, the ribs separated into 4 chops with a heavy knife and arranged on 2 plates, finished with a squeeze of the lemon from which the zest had been removed earlier, drizzled with a bit of olive oil, garnished with ‘Bull’s Blood’ micro beet from Windfall Farms
  • four large cherry tomatoes from Alex’s Tomato Farm, in Carlisle, NY, from Chelsea’s Down to Earth Farmers Market, halved, placed cut side down inside the pan from which the goat had just been removed and allowed to begin to soften, turning once, arranged on the plates and sprinkled with Maldon salt and Tellicherry pepper
  • two thick stalks of celtuce from Mountain Sweet Berry Farm, the leaves removed from the ‘stalks’ and washed several times, wilted in a bit of olive oil and set aside, then the stalks themselves peeled and cut into discs, briefly par-boiled in a low-sodium vegetable broth, drained, dried, and sautéed in a little olive with a tiny amount of finely-chopped red spring onion stems from Alewife Farm over a moderate flame for a minute or two, then tossed with a sprinkling of pine nuts which had earlier been heated in a cast iron pan until they had begun to brown, the celtuce leaves reserved earlier now gently reheated and distributed onto the plates and the sliced stalks and pine nuts placed aside and a little on top of them

paprika-rubbed braised goat; sweet/sour parsnips; mizuna

It was a Sunday dinner, but only remotely related to the kind Mom served in our midwestern dining room in the middle of the last century.

I’ve liked preparing and have enjoyed eating goat in the past, although it hadn’t shown up on our table in a year. Then, a couple weeks ago, on a visit to the Union Square Greenmarket I saw that Consider Bardwell Farm was advertising meat. I’ve bought veal and goat from them before, and the quality of both the meat and the butchery has been excellent. They’re really focused on the production of some very fine cheese, so the goat [chevon] and the veal is something of a special event (I once heard a farmer who only made ewe’s cheese tell a puzzled customer, explaining the appearance of goat meat at her stall, “have to do something with all the boys”).

I asked Paul, of Consider Bardwell, about goat chops, maybe a partial rack, or perhaps some ribs, but he was out of all those cuts by that time of the afternoon, so I picked up with a small roast, a boneless shoulder, to be precise; it weighed but one pound. I had never cooked a goat shoulder, but I knew it would require a long, slow braise to tenderize the meat. I hit the files, came up with this recipe, and it was more or less the process I used.

It was an interesting operation, and the chevon tasted very good, but neither of us thinks the time and the effort it required would be worth repeating.

Unfortunately (or not) there was too much liquid remaining in the pot to be quickly reduced for a sauce, so I improvised and produced something more like an au jus, enriched with a little rich Kerrygold Pure Irish Butter. It was actually very good (see the mention of veal tongue stock below, in the list of ingredients).

The next time I’ll hold out for those chops, maybe a partial rack, or perhaps some ribs, and yet I know I’d still be a sucker for something different.

  • the ingredients for the tiny braise included a one-pound boneless rolled goat shoulder from Consider Bardwell Farm, which I daintily bound in butcher’s twine (I should have taken a picture of the neat pattern); Pimentón de la Vera dulce, in which the roast was rubbed, along with salt and pepper, and left for an hour before the cooking began); garlic and onion from Lucky Dog Organic Farm; celery from Foragers; carrot from Norwich Meadows Farm; chicken broth made with Better Than Bullion chicken base; and, instead of veal stock, veal tongue stock remaining after this March meal and frozen at the time; and parsley from Eataly
  • about a pound of parsnips from Tamarack Hollow Farm, cooked along the lines of this recipe, using local Linden blossom honey from Tremblay Apiaries; Aceto Cesare Bianco white wine vinegar from Buon Italia; and chives from Two Guys from Woodbridge
  • mizuna from Norwich Meadows Farm, wilted in a little olive oil, seasoned with Maldon salt and freshly-ground Tellicherry pepper
  • the wine was a California (Lodi) red, Karen Birmingham Zinfandel Lodi 2014, from Naked wines
  • the music was Paul Dessau’s 1974 opera, ‘Einstein’, a 1976 recording from its premier production in East Berlin, Otmar Suitner conducting the Berlin State Opera ChorusBerlin Staatskapelle members; it’s a very interesting artifact, with some “bleakly expressive” [Gramophone] music; the text and the music are discussed in these three contrasting reviews: Complete Review, Gramophone, and Suppressed Music

Paul Dessau, Los Angeles 1948, photographed by Curt Bois

 

[image of Dessau from kuenste-im-exil.de]

goat ribs, green beans, plum tomatoes

dinner, 8/3/11

An article in the New York Times last year described goat as the most widely consumed meat in the world, but I’ve seen any number of sources on line disputing that.  I think the explanation may be in the phrasing:  The world may consume more pounds of pork or beef or poultry, but goat is what is eaten by a lot of people who are only able to eat meat on rare occasions (goats are very economical, naturally free-range, famously mobile, and they give excellent milk).  So it may be true that more people around the world consume goat than any other meat.

In any event, you’d never suspect goat had any importance in the world’s diet if you started searching for recipes, as I have, especially recipes treating it as anything but stew meat.  In spite of this handicap, I’ve actually been cooking goat for a year or two (see chops entries here and here).  At first I was pretty much on my own, unable to find much information even on the internet.

But I was determined to check out cabrito, or kid, for myself (ourselves), and at least try preparing simple goat chops or racks.   Yet while I was getting a bit of advice, and encouragement, from purveyors in the Greenmarket who specialized in milk products, I was afraid I was going to screw up and dishonor this wonderful animal.  Goat is very forgiving however, and once I realized I was able to pretty much follow the approaches I use to cook lamb, I was home free.  Goat and sheep are relatives, after all, as both belong to “the goat-antelope subfamily Caprinae.”

I recently picked up a copy of a new book called “Goat:  Meat, Milk, Cheese,” and I expect to be consulting it a lot, but even Weinstein and Scarbrough didn’t help me out with my latest adventure in goat cookery:  No mention of spare ribs.

Neither it nor anything I had learned up to two days ago could keep me from being at least a little stressed out about what I was going to do with the 21-oz. frozen rack of spare ribs – in lieu of a package of 5 chops (what were two guys going to do with an odd number?) – I had picked recently from Patches of Star Dairy in the Union Square Greenmarket. I had in fact never cooked spare ribs of any kind, and I couldn’t even locate basic instructions for lamb ribs on line, to say nothing of cabrito.

I wanted to avoid heating the oven on a very warm summer day, so I hoped to pan-grill the meat.  I was reassured about how quickly the ribs might cook by their pale color.  It was almost veal-like.  I decided to use my square enameled cast-iron ribbed grill pan and in the end I pretty much winged it, grabbing some hints about timing from several recipes which were mostly devoted to spicy Indian or Moroccan cooking (I was trying for a more-or-less Italian concept, as usual, one which could be put together with ingredients I had on hand in my small kitchen).

Since the dinner description made it to the blog, it means it was yummy, but I’ll add: “really yummy”.

I have to say however that the Puglian wine with which we accompanied it, which is excellent, which we have always enjoyed many times, and which I’d buy again if I could (I think this was the last bottle from a case we had gotten from Astor Wines), just didn’t seem to stand out with this meal. And yet everything we had loved about it in the past was still there when we savored it alone.

  • cabrito spare ribs from Elly Hushour’s Patches of Star Dairy, cut into four pieces and pan-grilled for a total of about 15 minutes, basting all along with a rosemary bouquet/bunch dipped in a mixture of oil, red wine vinegar, salt and pepper (and replacing a very loose cover of tin foil between each herb sweep); accompanied by green beans from Berried Treasures in the Greenmarket, parboiled, drained, dried, then reheated in oil; and small plum tomatoes (Juliet) from Lani’s Farm (again, the Greenmarket), which halved and briefly pan-grilled then brushed with oil and a bit of balsamic vinegar
  • wine:  Italian red, Canusio Troia Puglia IGT Rosso Diomede 2005 from Astor Wines & Spirits

balsamic veal chops, pumpkin, greens

dinner, 11/3/10

  • raw wedges of Keith’s Farm classic Japanese Hakurei turnip greens from the Union Square Greenmarket
  • Veal Loin Chops with Balsamico, meaning two small seasoned natural veal rib chops from our local D’Agostino market, browned 3-4 minutes each side (once the pan and the bit of oil coating it has gotten pretty hot), over medium-high heat, the chops removed and allowed to rest five minutes, then each drizzled with a teaspoon of good Balsamic vinegar; accompanied by a savory sugar pumpkin casserole which included, in addition to the two-pound squash/fruit from the Greenmarket’s Paffenroth Gardens, one large yellow onion from Pennsylvania’s Berks County Eckerton Hill Farm, also in the Greenmarket, two eggs from Knoll Krest Farm, and 6 ounces of Patches of Star goat cheese ricotta (both ingredients from the Greenmarket); and a small serving of sauteed turnip greens (the tops of Keith’s turnip roots as well as some of their red radish tops, wilted in a bit of oil along with two small bruised and heated garlic cloves
  • wine:  Italian, Valpolicella, D.O.C. 2008 Brigaldara from Pasanella and Son

lamb chops, eggplant with mint 7/31/10

  • heirloom tomatoes from Bodhitree Farm in the Greenmarket, with oil and torn basil;  accompanied by thin, toasted slices of ciabatta
  • drink:  Pernod and water
  • two pan-grilled loin lamb chops from Citarella [a total of only 10 ounces or so, only $8.84 for both – and, without exaggeration, I’d call them the best chops ever!], finished with oil, thyme from the Greenmarket, and drops of lemon;  accompanied by Japanese eggplants, also from Bodhitree , which were halved, scored, coated with chopped garlic and mint (both from the Greenmarket) and then grilled on another ribbed cast-iron pan
  • cheeses:   “Dorset” a soft washed-rind cow’s milk, and “Manchester”, an aged goat’s milk, both from Vermont’s Consider Bardwell Farm, which has a stand in the Greenmarket;   also accompanied by toasted thinly-sliced ciabatta
  • wine:  Rhone, Belleruche Côtes du Rhône 2007 M. Chapoutier from from Philippe Wine
  • slices of a Korean melon called Sun Jewel, from Norwich Meadows Farms in Norwich, New York, purchased at the Union Square Greenmarket
  • dark-chocolate-covered espresso beans