Return to the Burners; Croatian Burek Party

If you were wondering why there has been scant-to-nil cooking content here so far, it's because until very recently, the kitchen in Maison Extreme Fixer-Upper looked like photo number two. It still looks exactly like photo number one, but at least it's now usable. (And check out that ten thousand pound Viking range, which was the one cool thing to remain from the last owners — no doubt because it cannot be moved.) If you are into kitchen remodel chatter, sound off, and you shall receive an earful. And look forward to more cooking stuff, because it's on. And it will get more usable and detailed than the following rambling list. 

This week, to inaugurate the homiest of home-based activities, I disassembled and grilled a lamb roast from Grocery Outlet, which I had marinated in freshly ground coriander, white pepper, fennel, some pre-ground garam masala, olive oil, and mustard. The next day I chopped the remaining lamb into a canned corn/chili chowder that I thickened with waxy potato, shallot, and some kind of Lebanese yogurt sauce from Nicholas restaurant, all of which got topped with a cilantro/radish/feta/olive oil/lemon juice relish. The wheels are groaning back into action, much like the sourdough starter which is currently producing hesitant, unambitious loaves. (I bake these in the green cast iron you see above.)

To keep me inspired, my friend and cooking mentor Neven invited us to his holiday burek party (see photos). Neven, who is from Croatia, is constantly flexing his old-school technique chops, which has been hard to endure without a kitchen of my own. Typically his favorite dishes involve small, oily canned fish and deeply sour dairy products, but the burek is a fairly unchallenging coil of dough, beef, and onions, which I studied for recreation back at MEF-U. Thank you, Neven, for helping me say goodbye to the local burrito restaurants of my remodeling days.   

Over the holiday I am hoping to document my mother and me making the family pozole, but hope to photographically capture at least the process of my father frying his annual gift of Nueske's bacon. 

What are your idiosyncratic holiday mains? Our table is never complete without garfinkles (Cookbook II).