Sous Vide Pork Shoulder-getting the hang of it

In front of each student, neatly laid out, were identical tools: a small scale, a beaker of water, and a cup of ball bearings. It was seventh grade. The class was Intro to Physics, and it was an exam, partly testing your grasp of displacement of water. I’d never taken a paperless exam, and I was less than thrilled. There was only one correct path. Spill water, take the wrong measurement, and it was all over.

Science, as demonstrated by my entire academic history, was never my strength. Kitchen chemistry doesn’t interest me either. The science of a biscuit and the culinary appliations of liquid nitrogen bore me. But I do like to tinker in the kitchen, and I’m a sucker for new tools such as our sous vide machine (see previous post). Sous vide cooks food at a maddeningly low temperature, and as such, I’ve discovered that, more than anything, it’s really the science of waiting around. The device should come with a subscription to the New Yorker so you have something to read while your duck breast takes a warm bath. Like anything else, to get it right is tricky, and though I’ve only just begun, already I’ve learned a few things.

Without a doubt, sous vide works for meats and poultry as well as dense seafood, such as octopus. The flesh is silky and perfectly cooked without any hint of bruised muscle fibers associated with even the finest grilled steak. In fact, save for the ultimate meat at Strip House (but they’re geniuses) I’m starting to feel my whole meat-eating life has been a farce. To date, I’ve been little more than a caveman grunting over a bonfire, ruining a perfectly good buffalo roast.

In his sous vide book, Thomas Keller asserts that virtually everything he serves-from asparagus to watermelon-is cooked sous vide. He claims a sous vide bath transforms, say, a carrot which, when freed from its bag, becomes a wondrous distillation of carrot flavor. The explanation makes sense: simmering water leaches flavor, leaving you with a bland carrot and a pot of carroty water.

Hence our experiments with carrots and sweet potatoes. But I’m not yet a believer.

My sous vide veggies tasted like regular veggies, though Keller’s rutabaga recipe (I made it with sweet potatoes) makes a delicious dish (see below for the recipe). And while I’m loathe to suggest scientific theories, here’s a layman’s hypothesis for why meat works and why veggies are more or less indifferent to the process.

Meat is more complicated structurally. Not only is one cut vastly different from the next, but the end result depends entirely on the cooking method. Braise vs. sauté, roast vs. grill, etc. An animal is a seriously complicated thing. If you believe in evolution, it took a long time for us to arrive where we are today. Thanks to natural selection, each cell has a purpose, and therefore, what you do to those cells, tissues, and organs has a transformative effect.

A carrot, on the other hand, with its less dramatic history, is not as sensitive to kitchen technique. If anything, as the carrot remained historically static, animals have had to evolve in order to allow them to digest veggies such as the carrot. A glazed, simmered carrot may be tastier than one boiled to death and dished up in the high school cafeteria, but that’s more an issue of refinement and skill. Even a delicious roast carrot doesn’t taste more carroty. Rather, its caramelized sugars have made it sweeter, but inside it still tastes like a carrot.

A sous vide bath works strange wonders with meat and poultry, manipulating the muscle fibers, crafting a piece of flesh into something entirely different from that cooked any other way.

This week, we made a pork shoulder, sealing it with sage and olive oil before slipping it into its bath, resulting in a semi-confit texture. Oddly, years later, I’m back to displacing water, only this time with pork shoulder rather than ball bearings. I’m much happier this way.

Sous Vide Pork Shoulder

Serves 4

2 ½ pounds pork shoulder in one piece.

6 sprigs sage

1 tablespoon black peppercorns

1 tabespoon coriander seeds

1/3 cup olive oil plus 4 tablespoons

salt and pepper

1. Place the pork in the vacuum bag along with 2 sage sprigs, peppercorns, coriander, and the 1/3 cup olive oil. Seal and slide into the water, cook at 185 for 8 hours.
2. When done, transfer pork to an ice bath. Remove and refrigerate.
3. When ready to cook, drain the pork and dry well. Slice or break apart the pork gently with your hands. You should be able to do this along the natural seams. The pieces will be irregular, but we like that rustic look. Season the pieces well with salt and pepper.
4. Add the remaining oil to a large pan and heat on medium high until almost smoking. Add the pork and let sit in the oil for about 2 minutes or until crisp. Add the remaining sage. Turn and cook on all sides to achieve the same color. If it sticks, just scrape up the bits and reserve: they’re tasty.
5. Divide the pork among the plates, top with the fried sage and mostarda and serve.

Sweet Potato Mostarda (adapted from Under Pressure, by Thomas Keller)

2 medium sweet potatoes, peeled in ½ inch dice

2 cups simple syrup (dissolve 1 cup sugar in 1 cup water in a pot, warm and whisk to dissolve the sugar)

½ tablespoon Coleman’s dry mustard

1 teaspoon turmeric

1 tablespoon mustard seeds

¼ cup horseradish

pinch crushed dried chiles

1 tablespoon unsalted butter

salt and pepper

1. In a medium pot, bring the syrup to a simmer. Whisk in the next five ingredients (spices) and let cool off the heat. Let the flavors infuse for at least half an hour at room temperature then chill in the refrigerator.
2. In a medium pot, add the potatoes with just enough water to cover. Bring to a simmer and cook through. Season lightly with salt and pepper and reserve in a bowl.
3. Remove the syrup and strain through a fine strainer into a small bowl and pour into a large sauté pan. Boil over medium high heat until reduced to a syrupy consistency. Whisk in the butter. Add the potatoes and roll around in the glaze until warmed through. Season with salt and pepper.
4. Serve on the plate with the pork, spooning the sauce over the potatoes and around the plate.