That model is exactly what I remember from childhood, wheat and all.
For a couple of decades, I refused to even look at a crockpot, because they sort of took over the world for a while, and it seemed like there wasn’t a meal on earth that hadn’t been cooked to death in one of those things. I felt the same way about casseroles. Crockpots and casseroles both promised one-dish culinary glory, and frankly, life just isn’t that easy. The last straw for the casseroles was a bubbling hot lab-sample of canned asparagus, potted meat, and mayonnaise. That’s a childhood trauma that no therapist can cure. I’m not sure what soured me on crockpots; probably a slopped-up mass of pulped carrots from a beef stew gone wrong.
But about 10 years ago, I took another look at crockpots, and I’ve come to love them for a lot of the foods that really demand and deserve that type of cooking: old hens and tough, gristly meat, both of which are full of flavor but short on tenderness. After several hours in the crock, they make a remarkable meal.
I don’t brown anything before crocking it. I love and embrace the concept of bouilli and bouillon, the wonderful boiled meats and real broth in the truest sense of the word. A hen in a pot with some onion, garlic, celery, peppercorns, a sprinkle of thyme, a bay leaf and a clove will be ready to go after 5 hours on high, and it is fantastic; browning just isn’t necessary. That’s all you need for a great soup; but the flesh makes a fantastic chicken salad, too.
If you like real Mexican food, then you’ll love cochinita pibil and barbacoa cooked in a crockpot—again, with no browning, which would not be authentic. Just a very long, very slow steamy stew.
And by the way, La Julia did use a crockpot. She loved it for New England baked beans!!
For a couple of decades, I refused to even look at a crockpot, because they sort of took over the world for a while, and it seemed like there wasn’t a meal on earth that hadn’t been cooked to death in one of those things. I felt the same way about casseroles. Crockpots and casseroles both promised one-dish culinary glory, and frankly, life just isn’t that easy. The last straw for the casseroles was a bubbling hot lab-sample of canned asparagus, potted meat, and mayonnaise. That’s a childhood trauma that no therapist can cure. I’m not sure what soured me on crockpots; probably a slopped-up mass of pulped carrots from a beef stew gone wrong.
But about 10 years ago, I took another look at crockpots, and I’ve come to love them for a lot of the foods that really demand and deserve that type of cooking: old hens and tough, gristly meat, both of which are full of flavor but short on tenderness. After several hours in the crock, they make a remarkable meal.
I don’t brown anything before crocking it. I love and embrace the concept of bouilli and bouillon, the wonderful boiled meats and real broth in the truest sense of the word. A hen in a pot with some onion, garlic, celery, peppercorns, a sprinkle of thyme, a bay leaf and a clove will be ready to go after 5 hours on high, and it is fantastic; browning just isn’t necessary. That’s all you need for a great soup; but the flesh makes a fantastic chicken salad, too.
If you like real Mexican food, then you’ll love cochinita pibil and barbacoa cooked in a crockpot—again, with no browning, which would not be authentic. Just a very long, very slow steamy stew.
And by the way, La Julia did use a crockpot. She loved it for New England baked beans!!
