Field Notes
A Journal of Food for Those Who Pay Attention
This isn’t a cookbook.
It’s a record of moments, sharpened by fire, softened by butter, and written down before memory forgot the measurements.
Here you’ll find recipes, but not just the kind you follow. These are the kind you feel out—like the tension in dough, the quiet pause before a boil, the voice in your head that says not yet.
Some are meant for late nights. Others are morning rituals.
All of them carry a piece of me—R.C. Hollows, the cook who listens while he stirs.
This is where technique meets memory.
Where taste has a backstory.
Where every dish is both offering and artifact.
I write these notes for those who keep the old ways close but still throw their own flare into the pan.
For the ones who want more from food than just flavor.
For the ones who know the kitchen can be holy ground—messy, real, and full of ghosts.
Welcome.
Open-Face Sardine Sandwich with Pickled Peppers, Onions & Toasted Sesame
It all begins with an idea.
I jarred the peppers and onions in late July,
sweating through my shirt,
hands stained from slicing and brining,
whispering you’ll need this when it gets dark again.
I didn’t know if I’d still be here to open the jar.
But winter came.
And so did I.
This sandwich is a spell.
A bite of sunlight pulled from vinegar and time.
A reminder that I once grew something,
saved it, and waited long enough
to taste it again.
Recipe
(Serves 1. Keeps the cold at bay.)
1 slice fermented rye or sourdough, pan-grilled in olive oil until crisp and golden
Half a tin of sardines in olive oil
Homemade pickled peppers and red onions (a bit of summer, bottled)
1 garlic clove, halved
Lemon wedge
Olive oil
Sea salt & cracked pepper
Toasted sesame seeds - just enough to feel cared for
Optional: a sprig of parsley or dusting of sumac
Optional: avocado smashed on the bread
Assembly
Rub the hot bread with garlic—slow and stubborn.
Lay down the sardines, whole and unapologetic.
Spoon on pickled peppers and onions—tangy, bright, sharp.
Add a squeeze of lemon, a drizzle of oil.
Season with salt, pepper, and toasted sesame seeds—that little crunch that says: I’m still here.
Eat standing up, by the window, while the wind scratches at the glass.
What I Put Away For Later
It all begins with an idea.
Pickled Peppers & Onions
For Cold Storage or Safe Canning
This is poetry with rules.
Because if you don’t get the acid right,
someone can get hurt.
And I’m not writing an elegy for a sandwich.
Yields: About 4–5 pint jars
Ingredients:
1½ to 2 lbs Anaheim chilies, washed and sliced into rings or strips
2 large Vidalia onions or red onions, slivered thin
3–5 carrots, peeled and cut into sticks (1–2 per jar)
4–6 garlic cloves, lightly crushed
4–5 bay leaves
1 tablespoon whole black peppercorns per jar
3 cups raw apple cider vinegar (at least 5% acidity – check the label)
3 cups filtered, non-chlorinated water
3 tablespoons kosher or sea salt (non-iodized)
2 tablespoons white sugar (optional)
Sterile pint mason jars
Fresh sterile lids and rings
Tongs, towel, ladle, clean workspace
Safety First:
Your brine must contain at least 50% vinegar with 5% acidity.
Do not reduce vinegar or salt if canning.
If not canning, store in the fridge and consume within 2 months.
Instructions:
Make the brine:
In a stainless steel saucepan, combine the vinegar, water, salt, and sugar.
Bring to a boil, stir to dissolve salt and sugar, and simmer gently. Keep warm.Pack hot, sterile jars:
Divide peppers, onions, carrots, garlic, bay leaves, and peppercorns evenly.
Leave ½ inch headspace.Add hot brine:
Pour brine over vegetables, covering them fully while maintaining ½ inch headspace.
Remove air bubbles with a non-metallic tool. Wipe jar rims and seal with lids and rings.Processing Options:
A. For shelf-stable canning:Process jars in a boiling water bath for 10 minutes (for pint jars).
Remove and cool. Check seals after 12 hours.
Store sealed jars in a cool, dark place for up to 12 months.
B. For refrigerator pickles (no canning):
Let cool at room temperature.
Store in the refrigerator.
Allow to cure at least 3 days before eating. Use within 2 months.
Kitchen Note:
This isn’t a casual kind of magic.
It’s intention, science, and memory held in balance.
I don’t play loose when someone might open this jar
and trust what I made.
A good sandwich starts in summer.
With salt, acid, clean hands,
and the will to keep going
even when the cold’s still months away
Keys in a Winter Jar
It all begins with an idea.
A Midwestern creamed corn recipe, preserved with memory
Before this was ever written down, it was just something we did.
Late summer meant picking corn from my grandfather’s field. We’d load it into the bed of the pickup—full to overflowing—then ride home slow with the sun on our backs and dust rising behind us.
We’d sit in the shade, husking corn together. The kids on buckets. The aunties with knives, cutting the kernels off the cobs. And my grandmother at the stove, working from memory, not a recipe.
If we behaved, she’d give us a spoonful and ask, “Is it sweet enough?”
She could always tell by the way we smiled.
The cellar had dirt floors and smelled like aging potatoes, must, and time. Handmade shelves lined the walls, built from old barn wood. The jars were neatly stacked and labeled in her handwriting—“Corn, August ’82.” “Beets, July 79.” “Chow Chow 84.” “Tomatoes 77.”
Those shelves held summer in glass. More precious than jewels. More beautiful, too.
Yield 8-10 cups or 2-2.5 quart jars
Ingredients
10–12 ears of sweet corn (or about 7–8 cups kernels)
½ cup unsalted butter
1 small yellow onion, grated or finely minced
1 Tbsp sugar (adjust to taste)
1 tsp kosher salt (or to taste)
2 cups whole milk
1½ cups heavy cream
¼ tsp white pepper
¼ tsp freshly grated nutmeg
Optional: 2 oz cream cheese or mascarpone for added richness
Optional: pinch of paprika or splash of vinegar for balance
Optional: 2 Tbsp flour or cornstarch if freezing/canning for better texture
Instructions
Cut the Corn
Shuck the corn and remove the kernels. Scrape down the cobs to collect the corn milk—this adds flavor and body.Start the Base
In a large pot or Dutch oven, melt the butter over medium-low heat. Add the grated onion, sugar, and salt. Cook gently for about 10 minutes, stirring often, until the onion is soft and fragrant. Do not brown.Add the Dairy
Stir in the milk, cream, pepper, and nutmeg. Bring to a gentle simmer.Add Corn
Add the corn kernels and corn milk. Let it simmer, uncovered, for 25–30 minutes, stirring occasionally, until thickened and tender.Finish & AdjustOptional: For a silkier texture, purée 1–2 cups of the corn mixture and return it to the pot.Optional: Stir in cream cheese or mascarpone at the end for added richness. Taste and adjust seasoning. Add a pinch of paprika or a splash of cider vinegar, if needed.
To Preserve
Canning
Ladle hot corn mixture into sterilized pint jars, leaving 1-inch headspace.
Pressure can at 10 lbs for 55 minutes (adjust for altitude).Freezing
Let cool completely. Portion into freezer-safe bags or containers. Label and freeze flat for easy stacking.
To Reheat in WinterWarm slowly on the stove with a splash of milk and a small knob of butter. Stir gently until heated through. Serve with roast chicken, pot roast, biscuits—or just by itself.
This is comfort food, made with hands and seasons. It’s what you open when the snow is thick and the sky goes gray. It’s what you serve when you want to feel close to where you came from.
Argyle & Oak
It all begins with an idea.
The first time I tasted the idea behind this dish, I was standing in the back of a Texas kitchen beside a Vietnamese sous chef who barely spoke but carried the calm of someone who knew exactly when things were ready, brisket, tempers, you name it.
He smoked meat like it was meditation. Taught me, without saying a word, how patience could taste like lacquered bark and rendered fat. He used hoisin in his mop sauce, five-spice in his rub, and had a way of turning scraps into something sacred.
Years later, I lived off Argyle in Uptown Chicago. Right off the Red Line. Summer there smelled like grilled pork, garlic, and the distant brine of fish sauce wafting from pho shops and family kitchens. There was joy in the smoke. Stories in the air. I used to wander that street just to breathe it all in.
Somewhere between those two worlds, Texas oak and Vietnamese caramel, this dish was born.
It’s not fusion. It’s not some clever mash-up.
It’s what happens when you’ve lived enough to know that fire speaks many languages.
And that sweetness and char belong to all of us.
These burnt ends are a handshake between places, pork belly or brisket glazed in fermented bean curd, hoisin, and honey. Smoked slow. Glazed with fish sauce caramel until they sizzle and stick to your fingers. You eat them outdoors if you can. On a hot day. With cold beer. And someone nearby who knows the good parts are found in the silence, the scrap ends, and the waiting.
This one’s for him.
And for all the things we learn in kitchens that never make it onto paper—until now.
Char Siu-Style Burnt Ends
Target Cooked Yield: 3.75–4 lbs finished glazed product
Raw Weight Needed (with trim/yield loss): 6–7 lbs pork belly or brisket point
Meat Options
Pork belly (skin off, center-cut, 1.5–2 inch strips)
Brisket point (fat cap on, trimmed and cubed post-smoke)
Char Siu Marinade (24–48 hrs)
50g red fermented bean curd (with a touch of its brine)
60g hoisin sauce
45g honey
20g soy sauce
15g dark soy sauce
15g Shaoxing wine
10g five-spice powder
25g minced garlic
20g grated ginger
Optional: 5g white pepper or Korean chili flakes for heat
Blend all marinade ingredients until smooth.
Toss pork belly or brisket thoroughly in marinade. Place in a non-reactive container or vacuum bag. Marinate under refrigeration for 24–48 hours.
Smoking
Wood: Oak with cherry or apple
Temp: 250°F smoker
Time: 3–4 hours until internal temp hits ~185°F and bark is formed
Optional wrap for moisture: butcher paper after 2–2.5 hrs, if bark is set
Remove from the smoker, rest 15–20 minutes, then cut into 1.5-inch cubes (if brisket). Pork belly may stay whole for glazing or be portioned before.
Vietnamese Caramel Fish Sauce
100g sugar
50g water (initial)
30g warm water (to stop caramel)
15g fish sauce
10g tamarind concentrate or paste
Optional: small squeeze of lime juice
Caramelize sugar and initial water in a saucepan until deep amber. Carefully deglaze with warm water to stop cooking (stand back). Stir in fish sauce and tamarind. Reduce slightly if needed. The glaze should coat the back of a spoon.
Glazing
Return meat to a shallow hotel pan or grill-safe tray. Toss gently with glaze. Finish on hot grill, salamander, or 450°F oven until edges sizzle and lacquer. Turn and baste once or twice. Hold warm and glazed for immediate service, or chill and reheat gently with extra glaze before plating.