Italian Sausage w/Onion and Jalapeño Chowchow
In the nick of time, I discovered this recipe yesterday, before our evening meal…
The weather has been a little unusual here lately, in the low 70’s, so it’s still grilling season until the deck is empty in another week or two, making way for snow.
Bill grilled delicious spicy Italian sausages last night and I made the recipe that I saw here on Nee's blog and here on the Food and Wine site, to accompany it.
I may be a little lazy ~ I adapted the recipe slightly by sautéing Vidalia onions and jalapeños in a large skillet, instead of using skewers, and charring them on the grill; then, cooked the sauce in the same skillet.
It’s a year-round relish to side with sausages cooked indoors, especially since heartier food in this neck of the woods gets a bit humdrum toward the end of winter.
This chowchow is a chunky tangy tart-sweet relish: I can think of a lot of other uses for it ~ hot dogs, sloppy joes, burgers, omelets, a topping for whitefish or salmon, or shrimp, it could be mixed with tuna salad, chicken salad, or pasta, or stirred into rice for a little kick, you get it…
Onion and Jalapeño Chowchow
2 tablespoons olive oil
2 Vidalia onions, large chop
2 jalapeños, seeded and chopped
½ cup cider vinegar
¼ cup plus 2 tablespoons brown sugar
¼ cup grainy mustard
¼ cup Dijon mustard
¼ teaspoon caraway seeds
¼ teaspoon turmeric
1 teaspoon cornstarch dissolved in 2 teaspoons water
Salt and pepper, to taste
3 pounds Italian sausages
Heat oil in a large skillet.
Sauté onions and jalapeños until crisp-tender, about 6 minutes.
Transfer to a plate and set aside.
In the skillet, combine vinegar, sugar, both mustards, caraway seeds and turmeric.
Bring to a simmer, add onions and jalapeños, and cook over medium heat, stirring frequently, until the liquid is reduced, about 10 minutes.
Stir cornstarch and water together, add to skillet, and stir mixture until slightly thickened.
Season with salt and pepper.
Serve with sausages.
Note: The chowchow can be refrigerated for up to 1 week.
Having passed the grain stalls they came to the fritanguerías – the fried stalls – where sweaty, plump women dropped thick pieces of fish into enormous frying pans. Laid out on the wooden trays that served as counters, the fillets of fried fish immediately cooled to take on an almost mineral appearance while thick slices of fried plantain – patacones – were heaped around them.
Tomás González, In the Beginning was the Sea