By Adrienne
Recipe: Plantain Mash
I’m not one for scenes. I don’t like traffic. And pretension at the beach seems ridiculous. Yet for some reason, I decided to take a share at the Hamptons, the elite New York coastal area where heiresses and financiers summer. As I suspected, there are a lot of annoying things about the Hamptons. It can take an hour to get to a grocery store that’s six miles away. Prada flip flops are commonplace. And people wait in line to go to nightclubs. This is not relaxing at the beach to me.
But there is something quite magical about our house on Bittersweet Lane. The small cottage sits on the edge of the Noyack Bay, which glistens on sunny days. We can walk right down to the water or kayak to a nearby wildlife refuge. You can relax on the screened-in porch and listen to the waves. Other than the neighbors—not so affectionately referred to as the Sopranos—the place is idyllic.
Dinners at the Bittersweet house are a communal affair. My first time out, we fed 15 people, squeezing them all together on a semi-broken picnic table and a round metal patio table. Three people shared the cooking duties. I made a pork loan with a cumin rub. Larry made green beans with almonds. And Al whipped up some pasta with shrimp.
This weekend, Jason and I are handling the cooking duties. As per usual, it was a bit of an affair. Jason started cooking shortly after waking up this morning. And other than a break for a dip in the bay and a way-too-long shopping run, we’ve been puttering around the kitchen most of the day. Here’s what we’re making:
The Menu
Steamed Clams with Hot Italian Sausage
Confusion Ribs
Plantain Mash
Guacamole Salad
Goat Cheesecake
Jason and I have made most of the recipes before. But I decided to test out something new today—the plantain mash. Basically, I just like the idea of combining plantains and goat cheese. (Okay, I pretty much like goat cheese in anything). In any case, it took a bit of experimenting to figure out how to cut the sweetness of the plantains, but I managed to do so with a bit of bacon. I’m thinking I’ll want to try chorizo in this recipe next time, just to keep with the Latin flavor. But a smoky meat is a must, otherwise it’s far to sweet a dish.
Plantain Mash
6 plantains
6 pieces of bacon
1 medium onion
½ cup of whole milk
4 oz. of goat cheese
Salt
Pepper
Olive Oil
Dice onions. Chop each plantain into six pieces or so. In pan, sauté olive oil and onions, until translucent. Add plantains and continue sautéing for 10 minutes or until all pieces are somewhat mushy. As plantains browns add a few tablespoons of milk to help deglaze the pan and get all the yummy goodness in the mixture. Continue this process, using about half of the milk.
In separate pan, cook up bacon. When crispy, remove bacon and chop into small pieces. Set aside bacon grease.
In pot combine plantain mixture and chopped up bacon. Add goat cheese and remaining milk. Stir and mash until you reach desired consistency—I tend to like mine on the chunkier side. You can achieve a fluffier version by adding a bit more milk and combining with a hand mixer. Once mashed, add four tablespoons of bacon grease. Stir and serve. (This can also be prepared ahead of time and reheated shortly before dinner.)
Recipe: Plantain Mash
I’m not one for scenes. I don’t like traffic. And pretension at the beach seems ridiculous. Yet for some reason, I decided to take a share at the Hamptons, the elite New York coastal area where heiresses and financiers summer. As I suspected, there are a lot of annoying things about the Hamptons. It can take an hour to get to a grocery store that’s six miles away. Prada flip flops are commonplace. And people wait in line to go to nightclubs. This is not relaxing at the beach to me.
But there is something quite magical about our house on Bittersweet Lane. The small cottage sits on the edge of the Noyack Bay, which glistens on sunny days. We can walk right down to the water or kayak to a nearby wildlife refuge. You can relax on the screened-in porch and listen to the waves. Other than the neighbors—not so affectionately referred to as the Sopranos—the place is idyllic.
Dinners at the Bittersweet house are a communal affair. My first time out, we fed 15 people, squeezing them all together on a semi-broken picnic table and a round metal patio table. Three people shared the cooking duties. I made a pork loan with a cumin rub. Larry made green beans with almonds. And Al whipped up some pasta with shrimp.
This weekend, Jason and I are handling the cooking duties. As per usual, it was a bit of an affair. Jason started cooking shortly after waking up this morning. And other than a break for a dip in the bay and a way-too-long shopping run, we’ve been puttering around the kitchen most of the day. Here’s what we’re making:
The Menu
Steamed Clams with Hot Italian Sausage
Confusion Ribs
Plantain Mash
Guacamole Salad
Goat Cheesecake
Jason and I have made most of the recipes before. But I decided to test out something new today—the plantain mash. Basically, I just like the idea of combining plantains and goat cheese. (Okay, I pretty much like goat cheese in anything). In any case, it took a bit of experimenting to figure out how to cut the sweetness of the plantains, but I managed to do so with a bit of bacon. I’m thinking I’ll want to try chorizo in this recipe next time, just to keep with the Latin flavor. But a smoky meat is a must, otherwise it’s far to sweet a dish.
Plantain Mash
6 plantains
6 pieces of bacon
1 medium onion
½ cup of whole milk
4 oz. of goat cheese
Salt
Pepper
Olive Oil
Dice onions. Chop each plantain into six pieces or so. In pan, sauté olive oil and onions, until translucent. Add plantains and continue sautéing for 10 minutes or until all pieces are somewhat mushy. As plantains browns add a few tablespoons of milk to help deglaze the pan and get all the yummy goodness in the mixture. Continue this process, using about half of the milk.
In separate pan, cook up bacon. When crispy, remove bacon and chop into small pieces. Set aside bacon grease.
In pot combine plantain mixture and chopped up bacon. Add goat cheese and remaining milk. Stir and mash until you reach desired consistency—I tend to like mine on the chunkier side. You can achieve a fluffier version by adding a bit more milk and combining with a hand mixer. Once mashed, add four tablespoons of bacon grease. Stir and serve. (This can also be prepared ahead of time and reheated shortly before dinner.)
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