This story also appears in the OC Weekly

This week’s recipe goes out to disgraced ex-Orange County Sheriff Mike Carona, who began serving a five-and-half-year prison sentence yesterday in the minimum-security federal pen in Littleton, Colorado. Since prison will present Carona so much time and so few outlets for cooking, here’s something to try once he unpacks the bags and sorts out the sock drawer.

Sure, it’s illegal to brew alcohol in prison. But when has “illegal” stopped Carona before?

It’s easy to brew alcohol, Mike. Just fill an open container with a sweet liquid such as apple or orange juice, leave it in a warm place near an open window for a week, and voila! Hooch. Wild yeast spores in the air will find their way into the juice, and nature will have its way with it, much like you had with the public’s trust.

Archaeologists believe spontaneous fermentation was employed by the ancient Babylonians and Egyptians who first discovered brewing. Vessels with bread scraps were filled with water, and the mash began to ferment. If the ancient Egyptians can brew with nothing more than a clay pot and some coarse bread, so can you.

For everyone else reading along: Uncontrolled fermentation can produce unpredictable and dangerous results if unwanted bacteria colonies set up camp in your brew before the desirable yeasts do. We’re talking about severe gastric distress or death, so don’t try this at home, underage kids.

Since spontaneous fermentation is sketchy, and smuggling commercial yeast into prison is forbidden, it’s better if you surreptitiously cultivate your own culture of wild yeast and use it for a more reliable fermentation. Chef Nancy Silverton offers a method to start a wild yeast culture in her book Breads From the La Brea Bakery. Take fresh grapes (organic, if possible), crush them coarsely into a jar, and the natural yeast on the grape skin will start to ferment the sweet juice. Surely you can get organic grapes in Club Fed?

Maybe I’m overestimating the comfort level you’ll enjoy in the Littleton lockup, Mike. If it turns out that conditions resemble the harsh Central Jail you used to run in Santa Ana, then you might want to follow the “prison rules” recipes outlined by Steve, one of the first and funniest food bloggers, of The Sneeze. Crazy bastard that he is, Steve actually made two batches of pruno and blogged it.

Steve quotes Jim Hogshire’s book You Are Going to Prison

“Prison hooch can be made in your cell toilet (as long as you don’t mind using other people’s toilets or finding some other solution), or more often, in plastic trash bags. The recipe is simple: make a strong bag by double or triple-bagging some plastic trash bags and knotting the bottoms. Into this, pour warm water, some fruit or fruit juice, raisins or tomatoes, yeast, and as much sugar as you can get ahold of (or powdered drink mix). Now tie off the top of the bag, letting a tube of some kind protrude so the thing won’t explode while it gives off carbon
dioxide. Now hide the bag somewhere and wait at least three days. A
week is enough.“

Here’s another method using a jug and a rubber balloon as an airlock, which lets out the carbon dioxide safely without letting in the unwanted microflora. Filter the brew through a sock, and enjoy.

Making alcohol is easy. Making tasty alcohol is not. Let us know how your pruno works out, inmate # 45335-112.Who knows? If you get good over the next five years, you might have a new career upon your release. That small blot of a felony conviction when you approach the state’s Alcoholic Beverage Control board? Nothing a little bribery can’t fix, Mike. Better luck on that next time.

Asian pears at UC Irvine farmer's market

This story also appears on the OC Weekly food blog.

If you’ve been to our local farmer’s markets in the past three weeks, you’ll have noticed that Asian pears have arrived. As with the apples they closely resemble, the new crop is packed with lightly sweet nectar. Their firm crunch adds a great texture to a cheese sandwich, and the sweetness is a nice counter to the lightly salty, slightly lactic tang of an aged cheese. This week, here’s a few ideas for making killer grilled cheese sandwiches.

Grilled cheese is easy enough that a child can make it, yet sophisticated enough that high end restaurants like Campanile dedicate one dinner a week to them, and a food truck built its entire business around it.  You already know how to make grilled cheese, so today’s post is not so much a recipe, but a few ideas to consider.

1. Shred semi-soft cheeses yourself so they melt quickly. Avoid pre-shredded cheeses. While convenient, pre-shredded cheeses contain anti-clumping agents. For the same reason they keep shreds from sticking together in the package, they also don’t melt as well when you want them to. Use a box grater and shred your own cheeses.

2. Try a sandwich with a crispy Parmigiano-Reggiano crust on the outside. Mario Batali correctly calls Parmigiano the king of all cheeses.  The  imported stuff definitely tastes more distinctive than domestic Parmesan. The real deal will have the words Parmiggiano-Reggiano hot stamped into the wax shell of the cheese wheel.

3. Use whatever bread you prefer, but I like a white bread with pull and texture for this gig. Instead of regular, squishy white  bread, I use a Pullman loaf white bread, that perfectly square loaf that used to be popular before the 1950′s and the advent of Wonder bread. It’s still found at Japanese, Taiwanese, Chinese and Korean bakeries. You might also see it called by its French name, pain de mie. Buy yours at Cream Pan, Diho Bakery, 99 Ranch, JJ Bakery, 85C Bakery, J Sweet Bakery, Mitsuwa, Marukai, Ebisu, Freshia, or other Asian bakeries and supermarkets.

Ingredients:
One Asian pear, peeled and sliced into 1/8″ thick slices
Bread, such as a pullman style white bread
Easy melting semi-soft cheese, like Brie, Muenster, Jack or Fontina. If using a mildly flavored melty cheese, consider adding a second, more sharply flavored soft cheese like chevre, blue cheese, Raclette or Morbier for a deeper cheese funk.
Parmigiano-Reggiano, for crusting on the outside of the sandwich
Butter

1. Peel the Asian pear with a vegetable peeler – the skins are thicker and more fibrous than apple skins. Cut into 1/8″ thick round slices, cutting north pole to south pole.
2. Preheat a nonstick pan over medium-low heat.  It’s much easier to make the Parmigiano crust with a non-stick pan. A too-low heat is better than too-high heat.
3. Lightly spread some butter on the outside of the bread and lay it on the pan. Sprinkle melting cheese inside the bread,  a slice of Asian pear, more cheese, and another slice of bread.
4. After four of five minutes, the soft cheese should start melting. Lift the sandwich up, and sprinkle some Parmigiano in a thin layer in the middle of the pan. Flip your sandwich over, then lay the uncooked side on top of the Parmigiano.
5. After another four minutes, the Parmigiano should be toasty and crisp. Scrape under the cheese crust with a spatula, lift the sandwich, then repeat the Parmigiano step on the other side.

Nothing says Independence Day like slow smoked barbecue, American style. Hope everyone had a good Fourth. Beside the requisite burgers and dogs, I cooked brisket and pork ribs on the Komodo Kamado to celebrate our glorious release from British tyranny.

This is the best brisket that I’ve ever made, thanks to the steady temperatures held by the Komodo. I haven’t cooked all that many briskets in the past because my Weber Smokey Mountain doesn’t accomodate their large size, but with the Komodo, cooker capacity isn’t an excuse to avoid cooking this most difficult of traditional barbecue cuts.

The second session on the Komodo fared far better than my first. Dennis, the owner of the Komodo company, gave me some tips, and the cooker stayed pegged at 200 degrees F for many long hours.

I’m taking the next few days off. Going to race cars up in Northern California. Keeps tabs on my race team at the 24 Hours of Lemons!

Live fire is a fickle mistress. Her gentle embers caress us into barbecue bliss. Or she can burn the bejeesus out of beef brisket.

I started my first cook session in the Komodo Kamado and set off to my job. The fire burned unattended with a twelve pound slab of meat. Results fell somewhere between bliss and bejeesus. The cooker temperature had climbed up from 230 degrees to 300 while I toiled for lucre, and the brisket had speed-cooked to slightly overdone by the time I came home. Not the optimal slow and low cook, but it turned out still edible.

A little more time spent twiddling the vent controls, and I’ll learn to better manage the fire in this new piece of equipment. Should’ve known better than to leave her burning without me.