|
Once
again, brought to you in living color with far, far too much
detail...
Yet
Another Episode of Dashboard Dining!
(Noch eine weitere Episode von
Dashboard Dining!) |
|
Welcome
once again to the Ninth Ring of Hell, cleverly disguised
as Phoenix. When
it was forecast that the gala occasion of the First Day of
Summer was going to be a suitably roasting 121 degrees,
complete with airline cancellations to commemorate the
melting of asphalt, it became clear that Dashboard Dining
was going to have to be dragged out of storage once more.
For
those just tuning in, Dashboard Dining started as a
project that helped me cope with the utter shock of moving
from God's Backyard to the Ninth Ring of Hell.
I elected to amuse myself with the escalating
temperatures by proving that the sizzling noise when my
butt hit the car seat wasn't my imagination -- it was
indeed so hot that I could cook in the damn car.
With the help of the trusty probe thermometer, I
experimented first with the Dashboard
Egg, moved on to Car-Cooked
Chicken En Papillote, and rounded out the
season with a coffeecake. 2006
saw a complete Fatty
Beef dinner, 2008's outing was a meal featuring
Apricot
Pork, and in 2013 it was BBQ
Ribs.
A
suitable theme for this new outing was lacking, though,
until a kind friend suggested that perhaps a German dish
could commemorate the dearly departed FPOGE (Fine Piece of
German Engineering, aka the vintage diesel Benz of earlier
episodes). Well.
That unleashed a cascade of inadequately repressed
childhood memories, and I am completely down with
endorsing the alternate reality of Oktoberfest in June.
|
|
|
Now
then.
The day prior, I took the Land Schooner to the
wash, so that every bit of sunshine could find its way
into the cabin to cook the project.
As you can see, it was a balmy 118 degrees in the
cool shade of the car wash.
But when I got up this morning, the day was dawning
with clouds screening my solar cooking source! |
|
|
A
quick check of the weather showed that we were
nevertheless supposed to have good heat until nearly
sundown, so I put my faith in the Land Schooner preheating
nicely at the curb, and aimed for a 10AM start time. |
|
|
|
So.
One of the few German dishes that featured in my
SoCal upbringing was Rouladen, little "beef
birds" made of thinly sliced and pounded round steak
smeared with mustard and rolled around bacon, onion and a
tiny pickle spear. The
Rouladen of my childhood's kitchen were browned and then
finished in a pressure cooker, but usually they're baked
at low heat in a moist environment until tender -- which
sounds like a vacuum bag on the dashboard to me!
I'd
bought round steak that was already sliced pretty thin,
but in my memories there's pounding involved, so pound
away I did. Another
advantage of pounding the meat is that you can
"help" all the pieces to become exactly the same
size and shape, from which I derive a distinctly Teutonic
satisfaction. |
|
|
Old
school would be to fasten the rolls with a toothpick, but
they weren't fighting the roll so I figured the vacuum bag
would keep them in shape just fine.
Into a cuffed bag they went, and got sucked and
sealed. |
|
|
Next,
it was time for Kartoffelsalat -- the classic warm,
vinegary German potato salad.
Normally the potatoes are cooked first and then the
dressing poured over, but for the dashboard method all the
ingredients are just going to steam all together. |
|
|
And
it just wouldn't be dinner without some Rotkohl, purple
cabbage with apples and onions.
Because I needed the cabbage to really sweat, I
elected to vacuum-bag it as well. |
|
|
And
of course there has to be Kuchen.
I remember making various iterations of fruit
kuchen, and there was one in particular that had tart
cherries dropped into a not-terribly-sweet cake.
I had some fresh black cherries on hand, and
elected to use those.
Various forms of white death were combined into a
batter, a smear of cherry jam went on top, then the pitted
cherries and finally a sprinkling of streusel. |
|
|
Prep
completed right on time, and a quick check of the temps
showed that we were a hair shy of 110 degrees at 10AM.
I've never yet had a vac bag fail in the car, but
from an abundance of caution the various dishes went onto
rimmed, foiled pans in case of a leak, and out I went to
the curb to begin the cook. |
|
|
A
cooking note:
I didn't bother with a probe thermometer on this
cook, as previous episodes have shown that the car will
heat to within the USDA
Food Safety and Inspection Service's
range of safe temperatures for slow cookers (generally
between 170°F and 280°F) even on days lower than today's
forecast.
That's right, a vehicle is a giant crockpot!
Kinda.
I mean, you know you feel like you're simmering in
there.
Now
all I had to do was wait.
And wait.
And visit a cool bath, and eat popsicles, and wait
some more. A couple of hours on, I got brave enough
to skate outside to check on progress.
The meat had given up quite a bit of liquid, the
vegs were steaming away in their respective containers,
and the little kuchen poofed up nicely.
|
|
|
At
4:30, the temp was hovering around 120 still; I went
outside to take a look and damn if it all didn't look
done!
Armed with silicone potholders, I retrieved the
pans from the Land Schooner.
Since our front door faces west, by that hour you
know those potholders were just the thing for the front
door's knob, too. |
|
|
So
I plated it up, poured a beer and took pix. |
|
|
Then we tasted:
VQ,
all surprised: Hey, these are good!
Me:
OMG! Those taste exactly like my mother used to make them!
VQ:
They're a little dry.
Me:
That's exactly how my mother used to make them!
Guten
appetit!
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Click
here to return to the Ninth Ring of Hell
|
|