Smith Family Recipes & Stories

I know!

2009-10-14T14:52:00.002-05:00

It's been forever. Yes, we did go to L20. Yes, it was more fabulous than we imagined. And yes, I am soooo swamped with grad school and everything else that I have not been prioritizing this blog. Some day, I will write recreationally again. For now, I must make a living and earn this degree. But much thanks to my beloved Tim for taking me L20 for my birthday, and to all you lovely friends and readers who keep asking me when I'm going to post again. Big kisses!

Northern Exposure

2009-07-28T00:24:00.003-05:00

Bourdain, you got me. We're going to L2O for our one night in Chicago. More later on that, of course. And to take it the Smith Family direction, there's a plan to make Bill's Best Damn Coffee Cake when we get to Michigan. It really is unbelievable. So, perhaps I'll have time while lolling around over the semester break to report, and post that recipe.

And yes, I'm rather glad to be going away on my 50th birthday.

Big year, this.

Grilled Corn on the Cob with Coconut Butter

2009-07-13T21:04:00.003-05:00

Yum, yum, yum! Corn on the cob with coconut butter, cilantro, Thai spice, and lime. Just the right heat/sweet/tang/salt chord.

Not cocoa butter. CocoNUT butter. Oh. My. God. This is the new magic ingredient. I ran across it at Whole Foods today. I swear the makers aren't paying me to say this. This stuff is tastes like dinner on the beach.

It's not coconut oil*, either (which I do love). It is made from whole coconut flesh. It's raw, organic, and does not stand up to a lot of direct heat. You won't be frying in it.

You will, however, be slathering it on the ears of corn your going to wrap in foil and put next to the coals in your grill.

Here's how:

Slather each shucked ear of corn with a tablespoon of coconut butter.
Dust moderately with the Thai spice*.
Lay the ear on a foil rectangle.
Lay a handful (about 5 tablespoons) of chopped cilantro on one side of the corn.
Seal up the foil.
Put the packages right down next to the pre-readied coals on the grill.
Cook them about half an hour, then open up the foil to let the steam out.
Squeeze a 1/4 of fresh lime over each ear just before serving.

* If you're worried about the fattiness of coconut oil, remember that olive oil is a fat, too. And them google "coconut oil"+nutrition. You'll be surprised. It's a very healthy oil.

** I used a mixture I found at Whole Foods, called "Thai Garden Sweet Heat Asian Blend." It's a combination of coriander, red pepper flakes, cumin, nutmeg, cinnamon, garlic, black pepper, basil, cardamom, and cloves.

Stella Artois Dinner Kicks It Good

2009-06-25T17:30:00.024-05:00

June 22, Stella Artois Dinner, Luciano's Trattoria, St. Louis
Hosted By Belgian Beer Sommolier Marc Stroobandt

Sponsored by Anheuser-Busch and Sauce Magazine

Marc Stroobandt gives me a private pour before the dinner, including hot sauce.

St. Louis, my home town. Beer headquarters of the U.S.A. I ask you, Town, am I a traitor for jumping on my chance to cover the Stella Artois Dinner at Luciano's Trattoria for Foodbuzz? Am I a bad citizen for embracing their Belgian beers, so soon after the still-mourned hostile takeover of Anheuser-Busch by Stella's Belgian beer conglomerate parent, InBev? Maybe I am. But if I'm mad at anyone it's our flimsy legal mechanism that allows what should be taken care of by anti-trust laws to go through so easily. I'm not a fan of hostile takeovers generally. They just seem mean to me. And I don't like it when people lose jobs so fat cats can make more money they don't need. But I have to tell you, I have never been fond of A-B beers. Sorry. Bud gives me a headache. Same for Busch. As for flavor, I just don't see the charm. Sorry, A-B loyalists.

However, I was a Stella lover already when the Belgians came to town, though. And after a decent hiatus period I started ordering it again. So, truthfully, I didn't hesitate at the opportunity to cover the dinner. As a matter of fact I leaped it like a starved hound dog. And am ever glad I did!

The three course dinner of coriander spiced scallop salad, chamomile encrusted veal loin with chanterelle mushrooms, and a hop infused panna cotte to finish included tastings of the Stella, and two other small Belgian brands (yes, owned now by ABInBev), Hoegaarden and Leffe Blonde.

Beer sommolier Marc Stroobandt was visibly pumped about chef Mark Del Pietro's menu when I chatted with him before dinner. "I could tell immediately when I talked to Mark that he'd really tasted the beers," Stroobandt said in his fancy Belgian accent. "Sometimes we send out beer and the chefs don't really taste them. From conversations with Mark, I could tell he was very tuned into the flavors."

Pre-dinner cheese plate.

Stroobandt sat me down before the meal with a plate of cheeses, some chocolate, a little spicy tomato broth (to which he added Tabasco) and three different bottles of beer. We tasted: beer; food; beer. Tune in, he instructed. How does the beer change the taste of the food? And does the food change the taste of the beer? It was magical. Every bit as fun as playing with wine.

"Drink more beer, save the planet," he said.

"OK," I smiled back.

I began to favor beer over wine two winters ago when, at a friend's house, my tummy was rumbly and I just couldn't manage my glass of wine. I asked for a beer and, voila! Tummy all better. No wonder. According to Stroobandt, beer is the food of the earth. It begins with barley. Barley can be grown quite environmentally soundly, he says. Then it's off to the brewery, through the process it goes, and then back again to cows in the form of feed. Interesting.

As I nibble on a beautifully crystallized piece of Parmesan and sip the lovely coriander and citrus infused Hoegaaden, I think I'd like to be a beer sommolier. Stroobandt has just finished dining and educating the privileged masses at the Aspen Food and Wine Festival, and now has landed here to try getting through to me and my sister St. Louisans with yummy beers and food. Tough work.

Table setting includes a variety of glassware shapes. Each beer has its needs.

The pre-dinner tasting over, it's time to sit down for dinner. The table is set with at least six shapes of glassware. Stroobandt starts by having us nose some Hoegaaden in a tumbler, and also a wine glass. The scent of the beer is very different in each glass -- the wine glass releases a lot more aroma. Lesson: Put your beer in its proper glass. If you don't know what that glass is, find out. Go to a good room like 33 Wine Bar in Lafayette Square, or The Stable, which has the venerable Jerad Gardner (sometimes called "The Hop Prophet") buying beer, and he and people like him can tell you exactly how to get the most out of a pour. And pour, you should. Release those essences. Let them play. This is only part of what I learned.

Chef Mark Del Pietro talks about the courses before they're served.

Foam is another part. One should sample the foam before drinking the beer, Stroobandt says. I don't remember why, exactly. But I'm certain it had something to do with enjoying the beer, so why argue?

After the foam, Del Pietro sent out his wonderful, perfectly done coriander spiced scallops. Sitting on a bed of baby arugula, sprinkled with toasted almonds and pecorino cheese and lightly swept through a drizzle of orange vinaigrette, it really did pair perfectly with the coriander and orange scented Hoegaaden. The scallops were as tender as any I've had, and the coriander crust had just the right crisp toothiness.

Del Pietro came out again before the main course and spoke a bit about how well the chamomile worked as a crust on the veal loin, with its sweetness and texture. I was disappointed that the crust was missing on my cut, and on all the others I could see. Kitchen snafu? I would have liked to have known the story. Nonetheless, it was delicious, and I was happy chanterelle mushrooms on the plate, as I had bought some at market Saturday. Perfectly in season, they were so earthy and sweet with the rich vegetable broth reduction. I thought the Stella was a nice choice with this course. It lightened the earthiness, lifted it. A less imaginative chef might have done a fish, or something more obviously suited to the dry, light Stella flavor.

My Stella foam, upon a black spoon. I was instructed by Stroobandt to always carry this spoon with me, and to never fail to taste my foam before sipping.

I also learned that one of my tablemates thinks Del Pietro is a genius hottie (her husband told me this), and that the true way to pour a Belgian beer is through The Pouring Ritual, a nine-step process that I was sad Stroobandt didn't demonstrate. Here did go through other basics of good pouring technique, however, including how to get the perfect two fingers of head.

Stroobandt introducing the dessert course.

Part one of the dessert course.

Chef Mark Del Pietro's hop infused panna cotte, paired with Leffe Blonde

And then dessert. Another thing I learned: I'm not the only one who thinks beer and dessert go together like evening grass and fire flies. This was fun. A nice swirl and sip of Leffe Blonde -- a full bodied, filtered beer with some malt, some sweetness, and a nice hoppiness. Imagine, sweetness and hoppiness together. If you were a chef asked to pair this with a dessert, what would you do? Stroobandt talked a lot about chocolate and beer, something he sees as pretty unexpected. And perhaps it is. (Unless you me, who decided one day in her 20s that beer and warm chocolate chip cookies might be the perfect combo.) Anyway, Del Pietro said he tried several chocolate approaches and didn't like any of them. Then he tried panna cotte. I adore panna cotte. 1111 Mississippi does a nice one, especially if you get to it the same day it's made. This one was better. Infused with hops, it was bitter, and sweet, and creamy, just like the Leffe Blonde. After me taste of beer, the dessert changed flavor on my tongue about thirty times in the first 10 seconds. Then another sip of Leffe. Ya. Now the beer is running through flavor dimensions like Einstein through sub-atoms. This was working. The rhubarb and strawberry bed was a nice, tart contrast, and woke my mouth up from its super-dimensional dreaminess, but it was the Leffe infused whipped cream on top that bowled me over. How could something be so delicate and so abrasive at the same time? Nice. But do I really have to wake up now?

Want to see the Nine Step Pouring Ritual? Take a look here.

The Best Dessert in Town -- at Agave!

2009-06-19T22:23:00.015-05:00

I'm really not kidding.

I've been looking for this since Oaxaca, 1991. A real flan. With real cajeta, the dolce de leche caramel heaven made from goat's milk (usually condensed). Agave's flan is rich and dreamy and way beyond the offensive flan-in-a-sombrero caricature we're subjected to around here. And because Agave is Agave there's tequila in there, too. Anejo, to be specific, which I'm told is aged for a year in small oak casks. Wait until you get a whiff of the swirly sauce of cajeta and tequila the lovely little custard allows itself to sit upon. Just wait.

Agave is on Manchester in The Grove

I remember lingering at an outside table, in a restaurant on the zocolo in Oaxaca town, writing a poem, trying to capture the essence of what my time there felt like: the blues and the greens, the iron-caged doors, the gardenias, little children, all of it. And I ordered a flan to go with my cafe con leche and it came out on a plate, as a slice, with caramel sauce, and from the first bite I knew I would never capture the sublimity of that moment in any poem. I just couldn't; I wasn't talented enough. So I ate it really, really slowly, and forgot everything else. This flan at Agave will take you close to there if you let it. But with a small, sweet tequila kick, and its own little mystery. Honestly, it's pretty hard to get my attention like this. The last time was Natalia's Bienmasabe cake and that was, I don't know, two years ago or something.

OK, Maybe the Stella Artois People are OK After All (or am I just an easy sell-out?)

2009-06-18T14:58:00.005-05:00

K. So I'm really thrilled that FoodBuzz is sending me to the beer tasting dinner with Belgian beer sommelier Marc Stroobandt. I've been a lazy lazerton with the food blogging since I began this darnbeloved MSW program at Wash U, and am tired of feeling guilty about it all the effing time. Since nothing motivates me as thoroughly as free food and publicity, I know this dinner will get me at least posting regular photos of my latter-day college girl eats once a week or something. I still can't believe I didn't put up any food photos from the NOLA Jazz Fest! Bad me!

The dinner is Monday June 22^nd at Luciano’s Trattoria in St. Louis. According to my dear friends the foodbuzzers, "Marc will be pouring Anhueser-Busch Belgian beers and discussing how to properly pour, taste, and pair these delicious beers!"

My job is then to report my findings to you, photos and all. Be thrilled. :-)

A little piece of the Mosaic

2009-06-17T17:23:00.004-05:00

The other day, walking along Washington Avenue after interviewing Matthias at the Pulitzer, and really, really wanting a bite to eat, I stopped at Mosaic. To which I had never been, it should be noted. (My sadness at the late afternoon closure of so many restaurants on Wash Ave should also be noted.) I had a pretty decent Mojito, and some competent fried dumplings with a fruity sauce. Nice enough for the moment.

Just a little afternoon in the city.

1111 Miss Fava and Corn Cannelloni

2009-04-18T18:50:00.004-05:00

Stopped by 1111 Mississippi for an appetizer and a glass of wine. I found the Fava and Corn Cannelloni to be quite delightful. Fresh, whole fava been were all cuddled up in some creamy ricotta (maybe homemade?), inside a nice folded, ridged pasta shell, itself swimming in a very fresh and acidic, and runny, tomato sauce. I really liked the strange fava/ricotta play. It was a texture thing. Texture things are, I think, the new frontier, and this dish is a pretty safe way to play that game without going into the big leagues, where you'll have to deal with the utterly unfamiliar, and likely enter there into the animal kingdom. As an appetizer it's pretty darn hearty. I could only eat one of the two in the order (though I had eaten every bite of my smallish spinach salad, prior). A nice round glass of Malbec went well with the cannelloni, but I think a bright white would do nicely, too. Oh, yeah, and if there was corn in there I didn't see it.

This Fake Hollandaise Sauce Kicks Butt

2008-12-17T11:52:00.004-06:00

Last weekend I had a brilliant idea: Falafels Benedict. Like Eggs Benedict, only with a thin, crispy falafel in place of the ham, on a warm pita bread bed rather than the English muffin.

I screwed up the Hollandaise sauce, though, which created an emergency situation, obviously. But of course I'm real fine in an emergency.

And really, it was pretty delicious. My falafel was a little too crumbly, and could have been thinner, but overall I think with some tweaking this assembly could be a keeper. The Hollandaise was really nice, the creme fraiche making it tangy and smooth.

Here's what I did:

1/2 cup creme fraiche
1 egg yolk
1 Tablespoon melted butter
dash of Worcestershire sauce

Optional: if you haven't used all your lemons ruining your Hollandaise, add a teaspoon of fresh juice. Otherwise, the creme will give you the tang you need.

With a fork or small whisk, whip the yolk into the creme, then the butter, then the lemon juice and Worcestershire.

Warm the mixture in a small dish set over warm water, stirring frequently.

Serve.

Christmas Morning Make-Ahead Breakfast Casserole

2008-12-09T10:44:00.005-06:00

Perfect for Christmas morning! This recipe calls for the assembled dish to be refrigerated overnight. In the morning you pop it in the oven for an hour, then take out the warm, hearty result. Known in my family by the anti-hyperbolic name of Breakfast Casserole, I really think it's essentially a stratta.

When Allana Kellog put out a call on twitter for make-ahead breakfast dishes for Christmas morning, it justsohappened that I'd made this most perfect and spectacularly delicious dish this weekend for company. As a matter of fact, if I had eaten breakfast this morning after looking at my facebook page I would have had a picture to post here. Alas, that last leftover piece is warming my tummy as I write.

I can tell you without reservation that this recipe is foolproof, easy, and flavorful beyond belief. The ingredients are simple. Bread, eggs, cheese, milk, sausage, scallions, a little salt. But something magic happens in the process and the thing comes out tasting marvelously complex.

This recipe comes from my mother. She doesn't know where she got it.

Breakfast Casserole

16 oz day old bread, cubed
10 eggs, lightly beaten
3 cups light cream or whole milk
1 teaspoon salt
1 cup cheddar cheese, shredded
1 cup Swiss cheese, shredded
1 pound sausage, cooked, crumbled and drained
1 bunch scallions, chopped

Butter 9 -by 13-inch baking pan.

Place cubed bread in the pan.

Sprinkle with cheeses.

Combine wet ingredients, and pour over the bread and cheese.

Top with sausage and scallions.

Cover tightly and refrigerate over night.

In the morning, heat the oven to 350 degrees.

Uncover the casserole, and bake for an hour, or until golden brown.

Enjoy!

Notes:

I like to use a good, firm bread.

I really, really like to use a maple sausage in this dish! This weekend I used an andoullie, which I took out of it's casing, browned, then drizzled with a little real maple syrup. Yum!

The Secrets of Natalia's Way, Bienmesabe Cake

2008-11-25T09:02:00.010-06:00

Hold on tight to your mixers and bags of sugar, because in this post I'm revealing local St. Louis chef Natalia Penchas's secrets for her favorite dessert (and mine), the Venezualan Bienmesabe cake. And you can't do the cake justice without these secrets, believe me!

Natalia, with the finished Bienmesabe

Once upon I time, at the St. Louis Food Bloggers' Potluck, I met my Latin lover, Beinmesabe, a Venezualan pastry. She is a light, amusing sponge cake soaked in coconut milk and rum, covered in piles of cinnamon-dusted meringue; intense, unforgettable.

The only creatures in the Universes who will not like this cake are those who (still inexplicably, as far as I'm concerned) do not like coconut.

I tried making her from Natalia's recipe, and, well, my creation was adequate, but she was not my Bienmesabe. Specifically, two things went wrong: rather than a soaked sponge cake I ended up with a cake sitting in a puddle of liquid (this problem was so acute that I put the cake back in the oven and baked it off until it seemed edible); and though I followed the meringue instructions in Natalia's recipe, my meringue was just not as structured as hers, not as much a part of the cake, if you will.

And so, because of my weeping upon the internets, Natalia graciously offered to come over and teach me to make the cake of my heart, properly. Watching and listened to her, all problems were solved. It turns out there are a couple of secrets, important secrets not included in her recipe.

These are important secrets. Believe me. And Natalia has given me permission to reveal them here, to you! Natalia's recipe for the Bienmesabe is posted on her web site, Zinur.

Here I have simply reposted and edited the recipe (we must remember that English is not Natalia's first language), made some "corrections" based on what she did in her demonstrations, and inserted the secrets, which are in bold italic type.

Somewhere in the process.

Bienmesabe

Here's the basic deal: you're going to bake a sponge cake, trim off the top of that cake, pour a fabulous coconut and rum liquid into it the well, top it with tons of Italian meringue, and sprinkle it with sugar.

Instructional photo #1: sifting the flour over the egg mixture

Instructional photo #2: Cake with the top, caramelized part peeled off, leaving the side walls and an upper lip for structure

Preheat the oven to 350° F (180° C).

Sponge Cake

(Makes one 9-inch round layer cake or two 6-inch cakes; if you make the two, freeze one)

6 eggs
1 1/4 cup of Sugar
a dash Vanilla extract
1 cup all purpose flour (you'll need a sifter)

Butter and flour the cake pan, and tap out the extra flour.

In a large bowl, beat the eggs with an electric mixer. For a long time. 7 minutes, 10 minutes. A few minutes in, all the vanilla. Beat until the eggs are fluffy and forming up as if you'd beaten the yolks and whites separately. Seriously. (If you're more comfortable you can do them separately, as Natalia says to in her instructions; I'm just telling you what she did in my kitchen).

Instructional photo #1:

Slowly sift the flour directly over the bowl of egg mixture, letting it fall like a gentle snow.

Now fold the flour into the eggs. Be very gentle, and very careful not to activate the gluten.

Spread the mixture in the prepared baking pan(s).

Do not tap the pan(s). Keep the bubbles in the batter intact.

Bake for 25-30 minutes, or until lightly golden and springy to the touch.

Leave the cake(s) in the pan for 5 minutes, then flip onto a sugar covered surface.

Place the cake into a nice deep round platter.

Instructional photo #2:

Now you are going to prepare the cake for the liquid by removing the caramelized top of the cake, but leaving the outer edge of the cake, and about a 1/2-inch rim of horizontal cake surface around the whole cake. This will insure the cake retains structure (see photo).

To remove the top of the cake, lightly drag a fork across the surface so that the brown part begins to peel off. At some point you can start using your fingers. But remember to leave an edge intact so the cake doesn't fall apart!

Filling

1 can of coconut milk (just the standard stuff, like you use for Thai or Indian cooking)
1 14 oz. can of sweetened condensed milk
1/4 cup of dark rum (optional)

Mix these together.

In batches, and slowly, pour the milk mixture into the well of the cake, saturating evenly. Here's the trick: as you pour in batches, watch how it absorbs. When it stops absorbing, stop pouring. There will still be some liquid running out from the bottom of the cake.But you are minimizing that, and keeping the structure of the cake, by watching and regulating the liquid. We had about a 1/4 left over. But it's going to be different every time, so just trust your eyes.

Put the cake in the fridge to chill while you make the meringue. Here I am disregarding the recipe Natalia has on her site altogether, because we didn't use that one. She said she put the standard French recipe up so as not to make it all too complicated. But the Italian version is definitely what works for this cake! It's more stable and structured. Italian meringue is made by pouring hot simple syrup into beaten egg whites and continuing to beat. Here is a Tyler Florence's standard recipe. Note, however, that Natalia did not use cream of tartar. I don't see how it can hurt, though.

Meringue

1 cup superfine sugar (we used regular sugar)
1/3 cup water
5 egg whites, at room temperature
1/4 teaspoon cream of tartar
Cinnamon

In a small pot over low heat, combine sugar and water. Swirl the pot over the burner to dissolve the sugar completely. Do not stir. Increase the heat and boil to soft-ball stage (235 to 240 degrees). Use a candy thermometer for accuracy. Wash down the inside wall of the pot with a wet pastry brush. This will help prevent sugar crystals from forming around the sides, falling in and causing a chain reaction.

Prepare your meringue.

In the bowl of an electric mixer, whip the eggs whites on low speed until foamy. Add the cream of tartar, increase the speed to medium, and beat until soft peaks form.

With the mixer running, pour the hot sugar syrup in a thin stream over fluffed egg whites. Beat until the egg whites are stiff and glossy. Spread the meringue over a hot cake or pie, and bake as directed.

Assembly

Once the meringue is ready, immediately take the cake from the fridge and start piling it high with the meringue. Use a rubber spatula to make little peaks of the meringue.

Dust the top with cinnamon, through a sifter. Serve, and watch your guests just die from pleasure!

A couple of notes: Natalia has some pretty cool projects going, including a catering business with local restaurantuer Michael Johnson, and a pastry, soup, and sandwhich shop to be nestled in an antique store in my very own Lafayette Square, Rue La Fayette.

Visit Me After The Election, K?

2008-10-13T15:52:00.002-05:00

Food blogging suspended until after the election. Working full time on the Obama campaign. First things first. This is Missouri, after all. Come on by November 8 and maybe I'll tell you about the celebration party!

Franco and The Sous Chefs

2008-10-08T19:12:00.007-05:00

So how's Franco doing without former chef Justin Keimon? Today I decided to find out. After a blood sugar rattling deprivation trip to Mount Pleasant Valley in Augusta (fun because of the good company and the gorgeous view -- their wish to make us buy wine glasses to drink the bottle we bought? tacky) the lack of food available on a weekend? ridiculous), I decided to conclude the hours before Atonement by stopping by Franco for a much needed light supper.

I was a little worried, given Justin's recent departure. But I need not have worried. So far, the Sous Chefi are doing fabulous work without him.

I was in need of a vegetable infusion, since our picnic had consisted of cheeses, salami, braunschwager, a little fruit, and bread (yummy though). So, after consider the Caesar salad and sweet potato bisque (still kind of sad about that one), I ordered the entree of grilled zucchini, lentils, and creamed mushrooms and spinach.

Here's the thing about Franco: I've heard people complain that they weren't "wowed." But Franco isn't were you go for that. Franco is where you go for simple, classic, perfectly seasoned, perfectly prepared bistro food.

My zucchini was, indeed, the perfect temperature, had the perfect bite, was not watery or limp or too crispy; it's natural mildness was totally in evidence, and showing off like an ephemeral girl against the wall at a dance. The lentils were a very familiar stew, just the right form to softness ratio, with diced carrots and onions and a little thyme, . The crimini mushrooms and fresh spinach were just sublime, mild and salty and buttery and bright.

That the entree made me forget the chili and cheese biscuit, with the sweet butter at it's ideal just-preceding room temperature (that's the kind of detail these guys do perfectly) is a telling enough miracle in itself.

If you haven't been to Franco yet, please go. If the guys running the kitchen are still sous-chefs, sooner or later they may be called away, were surely at least one of them deserves a better title and salary.

(I know, I know. Leave me alone. I can break my own self-imposed repressive paradigm if I want to. )

Debate Night Party

2008-09-26T23:40:00.002-05:00

So I made non-gumbo (because I didn't have the energy to make sure it was authentic); cornbread with cream, sour cream, chilis, and raw goat cheddar; steamed Swiss chard and beet "greens"; roasted beets with sour cream; forbidden rice; and warm chocolate chip cookies. We were in Mississippi, virtually, after all.

Here are our takes on the food and the debate:

Me on food: Food was good, not great. But it was Southern.
Me on politics: It's time to sit down with our enemies. That's the core of all problem resolution.

Simone on the debate: Dear John, Please stop repeating ad slogans.
Simone on food: It was poetically just to be eating cornbread and watch a black man debate his way to the Presidency.

Tim on the debate: The most vibrant thing about John Macian was his tie.
Tim on food: At least the food was satisfying.

Robin and Steve: Their quotes later, they left already.

Cupcakes Galore, and Many Frostings

2008-09-17T23:38:00.002-05:00

By Saturday, for Poetry and Light, Cupcakes and Cocktails (to which you're welcome to come) I will make 400 mini cupcakes, and a plethora of herb and flower and fungus and fruit flavored buttercreams. The herbs will be made with herbs from the community garden (devising a method that involves simple syrups and infusing -- I'll let you know how it goes) . Trying Cupcake Project's saffron.

Also experimenting with rose, basil, lavender (but very, very mildly lavender), truffled honey, chocolate with lotus nut, rosemary mint (if it comes out tasting like Aveda shampoo it's out), and lemoncello. I would do more research on Cupcake Project but I kind of want to try these straight from my imagination.

More later.

The Pad Thai Magic Four: It's So Simple

2008-09-07T22:24:00.005-05:00

Palm sugar
Fish sauce
Sweet dried radish
Fresh squeezed lime juice

That's the sauce, the base, the Thing That Makes Pad Thai What It Is.

You cannot make a Pad Thai sauce properly without these. You can make it wonderfully with them. And I think they also contain the magic properties that sooth my babygirl's tummy.

The thing is, there are a gazillion Pad Thai recipes, maybe one for every Pad Thai cook, so its impossible to know which one to use and you could spend the rest of your life playing around with them. Which wouldn't be that bad. But I have a feeling that a lot of people stay away from making it at all because the plethora of recipes and confusion of ingredients is just overwhelming.

Those ingredients seem to vary wildly, and of course every cook thinks theirs is the best.

Some call for galagal. Some call for lemon grass. Some call for a lot of garlic, some none. Or ginger, or not. Or teensy dried shrimp, or not.

But I've figured out something really important:

There are four basic ingredients in Pad Thai sauce that are absolutely necessary. Everything other ingredient the gazillions recipes call for in the sauce is optional.

I'm going to tell you what those four ingredients are, and once you have that information you will be able to make a good Pad Thai from pretty much any authoritative Thai cooking source. After I tell you the magic ingredients, I'll give you a couple of other basics, and you're off.

Should you doubt me, please know that I have now pleased the most difficult of Pad Thai critics, my teenage daughter. And she knows her Pad Thai. It soothes her tummy, so we've eaten a lot of it over the last year.

So:

Palm sugar Fish sauce Sweet dried radish Fresh squeezed lime juice

That's your sauce. Those are the totally wonderful magic flavors that make the dish the mysteriously wicked taste fest that it is. And they CANNOT be substituted. Period. You must find the authentic versions. Mail order them if you have to, but you cannot use soy sauce in place of fish sauce, nor any other sugar in place of the palm. Don't leave out the sweet dried radish, and don't even consider lemon for lime.

Look at a recipe for ratios. They are just about in agreement on that.

Then add what you want to, or not, according to the recipe you've chosen.

The other basics are of course:

Rice noodles, soaked in water until they are nice and soft (45 minutes works well for the ones I use, but it will vary by noodle)
Peanut oil
Mung bean sprouts
One or two dried chilies
An egg
Tiny dried shrimp (not too many)
A protein (I use The Best Tofu Marinade in The World, of course, then oven fry it), but if you treat it right any meat will be great
Fresh cilantro
Fresh basil

I like to saute a couple cloves of garlic and the chilies (I grind these two up in a mortar and pestle first) in 1/3 cup of peanut oil, then add the scallions, the drained noodles, then the palm sugar, radish, fish sauce, and dried shrimp all quickly one after another, tossing with each, moving pretty quickly; then toss real well; then move the noodles over to fry the egg, then mix it in; turn off the heat; toss in the sprouts and lime juice and the protein and the fresh herbs, then serve with ground nuts and lime slices and some hot sauce.

That's it. But that's just my version. There is a secret ingredient, but it is so kick ass that I can't believe it, and I've never seen it in any recipes, and so I'm going to hang on to it for the cookbook. Or the noodle shop. Something that will make me some money. Any noodle shop investors out there?

I know that's not a proper recipe, but I don't mean it to be. I don't want to give you a recipe. I want to tell you how easy it is, once you know the magic sauce ingredients, and let you go from there.

One more thing I'll say: don't skimp on the oil. The noodles need it for that slipperiness that's so much fun, and that facilitates all the other flavors.

Go at it.

The Beets Are Fantastic

2008-08-28T15:26:00.007-05:00

Maybe I like pickled beets after all.

My pickled beets. I think they look a little like very fine nigiri tuna.

These are the perfect texture. Firm, with just the right amount of bite, not too much, and not too little. There is no sense of mushiness about them at all. The spice is just right. I was worried, because the recipe I used (see yesterday's post) called for a whole T of cinnamon, some allspice and some clove. I cut back on the clove a tad and made up for it with more allspice, I'm not that fond of clove. But the spices meld wonderfully into the acid of the liquid and, most poignantly, into the red taste of the beets. And either my taste buds have evolved (become less sensitive?) or this recipe, or these beets as they come from the ground are more to my liking than what I've had in the past, primarily as a girl. But not exclusively.

I have eaten pickled beets in my adult life and not been that crazy about them. Whatever the reason, these taste refreshing and delicious to me.

I hope my mommy likes them.

Zee beets! Fini! Oila! Finally!

2008-08-27T23:40:00.008-05:00

Ah, God, finally. It was a labor of love, but I think it took more energy worrying about them while I was sick than it did for either round of actual canning. Today I went at it slowly and methodically, enjoying the textures and colors. Not a lot in the way of scent, barring the pickling liquid. Enjoy.

My babies. I couldn't be more proud.

A beet, the skin falling off since I'd already boiled it. They were very easy to peel.

The liquid, a fragrant mix of vinegar, water, sugar, and spices. Bring to a boil, then cool.

A beet, halved, then sliced, then cut down the middle again. Trying to keep slices as uniform as possible.

The first beet goes into the first jar. It's a moment.

Now I'm really cooking, doing them in batches; I create a beetscape. They are very pretty, aren't they, on the blue cutting board? These have been peeled, and the roots and tops cut off. They're ready for slicing.

But I got all set up this afternoon, and everything went quite well. I maintained all sterile protocol and technique, the beets did not seem mushy -- well, a couple of them did but I rejected them immediately and chose only the firm ones.

I did one jar of just tiny ones, uncut, except for the tops and roots cut off. I think they're pretty.

I'm not going to do a total blow-by-blow, since I totally used the instructions at a guy named Paul Noll's blog. (The link is underneath all the pictures. Ya, I want you to look at my photos and my pretty beets before you go over there!) My mom could not remember the recipe, and this one had lots of helpful pictures. So.

Tomorrow I will taste them. Tonight, though, they must cool. I will let you know. Here's the link to instructions: http://www.paulnoll.com/Oregon/Canning/canning-pickled-beets.html

Wherefore Art Thou, Beets?

2008-08-25T16:03:00.003-05:00

Actually, that's more like what they're saying to me, from their refrigerated prison in the blue ceramic bowl that Leigh gave me forever ago. I just don't have it in me yet to finish canning them. I'm weak as an overcooked dumpling. I think by tomorrow maybe I'll be well enough. I'm coughing much less, maybe because Molly brought me some leftover prescription cough syrup she had that stopped the cough last night and allowed me to actually sleep for the first time since, like, I started the darn beets.

So, lets consider this an experiment called -- oh, I don't know, how about "How Long Can Beets Wait Between Initial Boil and True Pickling?"

If I do them tomorrow and they turn out well then the answer will be: at least 96 hours.

Tune in, ye curiosity seekers. We shall see.

Lemon Ginger Toddy with Hot Pepper: Recipe to sooth a cough while the beets rest.

2008-08-24T18:13:00.007-05:00

Should the beets rest? I don't know. But they have no choice right now because I have to.

I am a cough machine, fueled by the inconvenient necessity of oxygen. I would be sad to be sick all alone if it weren't for the equally inconvenient reality that before the heartbreak I was just as alone when I was sick so screw all that. And Molly's on her way over and that will be nice. And Pam and I did go out for a mimosa this morning -- a slight trail given my feverish state, ;-) but one I entered willingly (that's meant to be an obvious understatement -- I was to get out of the house) and have a mimosa)).

So the beets are still resting in the fridge and I'll tell you what: it's hard to find a medicine to make my coughing stop long enough to sleep! I'm trying all sorts of over the counter suppressants and none of them work at all. I just get groggier. Turns out, the old stand-by works. And it works like magic. I drink this, nice and hot, and the loveliest warming happens in the top of my chest, where the persistent tickling lives, and I stop coughing. Only trouble is, it wears off and I don't have the energy to keep myself in supply, jumping up and down to make the concoction over and over again. That's the Catch-22. Unlike what's in a bottle, unless you have someone around to make it for you, it runs out. But, if you have a loved one with a chest cold here's your ticket to soothing their cough. Just be sure that if you're giving it to a child you leave out the rum and the hot pepper, duh.

Honey, lime, rum, and cup of heaven. Below are the ginger and pepper after boiling in the pan, the water poured off of them.

This recipe is based on the classic Lemon Honey Tea that I brought my children up on. It is what should be given to children sick with colds. That over-the-counter stuff is crap. I never game them that stuff.

I'll give you both recipes. First, the basic one. Then, be punched up version. Both are fantastic.

Basic Lemon Honey "Tea"

1 T honey
juice of 1/2 to 1 lemon (or lime)
hot water

Stir together and drink up. Feel Better.

K, that was the basic. Here's the ultra-enhanced grown-ups only version:

Lemon Ginger Toddy with Rum and Red Pepper

And if you don't think this will put the whammy to a cold you're just nuts.

1 1/4 cups water
1 T honey
juice of 1 lemon or lime
several slices fresh or candied ginger
1 tsp rum
1 fresh or dried red pepper, undisturbed

Boil the ginger and the whole pepper together in the water for ten minutes or so.

Put honey and lemon juice in a mug, and pour the hot ginger-pepper water in.

Savour.

Sorry, Beets On Hold

2008-08-22T22:36:00.006-05:00

I hope they'll be ok in the fridge.

I got them trimmed, cleaned, and through their initial boil when my chest cold and sadness and the compelling prospect of drinking wine with a kind friend who'd come to cheer me up due to this current romance trouble of mine did me in. So I drained them off, sealed them up in a ceramic bowl and plastic wrap, and put them in the fridge. I hope they don't get mushy.

Reminder to all: grief settles in the chest. Take a rest if you need to. Better the beets bleed.

Love & Peace,

M

Mojitos and the Canning of Beets for Mamma

2008-08-21T15:55:00.005-05:00

My mother loves pickled beets. I don't so much, for I am more of a Borscht kind of woman myself, or even a shredded upon the scape of a salad sort. But I do love my mother and she is now too feeble to can and I can't stand the thought of her subsisting on whatever she gets packed in metal from The Wal-Mart and 'tis the season of her birthday and I have beets in the garden begging to be eaten and so. You get the idea.

This is stage 1. Sterilizing the cans and lids and making the mojito. Tune in a couple hours from now and I'll show you Step 2. Woo!

My mess of beets, fresh from the garden this morning and rinsed. But they still gotta be scrubbed!

The modern canner's tableaux: large canning pot, smaller pot to sterilize lids, and laptop with the instructions up!

The cans waiting to be boiled. This enameled pot takes ages to come to a boil!

And at last, the Mighty Mojito!

Beef Pizzaiolla, from Cheryl Richter

2008-08-20T13:55:00.006-05:00

Cousin Cheryl often claims to be an inadequate cook, but every morsel of hers I've ever sampled has been delicious. She did say of late that divorcing her first husband, a controlling kind of guy who liked to hover and criticize while she cooked, had a side of effect of making her a better cook. Maybe because she could follow her own instincts without distraction from some nutty jerk? Maybe. No offense, ex-husband.

So Cheryl's mommy is Italian. Old New York family. I won't name names. Let's just say I've been told not to sit next to the restaurant window when dining out with them. There's some cooking going on there, and no matter what Cheryl says she got the gene.

Since it's tomato season, here's a little beauty from Cheryl I think you might love:

Beef Pizzaiolla

Cheryl says: This recipe an be made with beef or veal, but I prefer the beef. I suppose you could do it with pork chops or chicken, but I haven't had it that way. Save any leftover tomatoes sauce and use it on a macaroni as a side dish.

Ingredients

2 pounds beef -- round steak cut 3/4" thick, or veal rib or loin cut 1/2" thick
1 1/2 pounds fresh or 1 20 oz can of good plum tomatoes
2 cloves minced garlic
1 tsp dried oregano
1/2 tsp chopped fresh parsley
salt and pepper to taste
grated Parmesan or Romano
good olive oil

De-seed the tomatoes, and put them through a food mill (alternately, put them through a food processor, then strain) until liquid but not mushy. Set aside.

Add the garlic, oregano, parsley, salt and pepper to the tomatoes, and stir.

In a large skillet, heat 1/4 cup of olive oil over medium high heat.

Sear the meat on both sides, lower the heat and leave in the pan.

Top the meat with the tomato mixture.

Let simmer on low heat for about 45 minutes, until the meat is fork tender.

Top with the grated cheese.

Serve with a nice rusty bread and a bottle of red wine.

Where Did You Go, Aunt Margaret?

2008-08-18T17:55:00.010-05:00

I'm right here! And presenting the last of the Zach Week reports. In these photos of him eating spaghetti you can see that he's moving so fast, twirling the spaghetti noodles around and trying to get them into his mouth, that they make this really odd digital blur or transparent impression, or something. Check it out!

Can you see it? He's holding the noodles in one hand, and trying to spear them with his fork with the other. Quite an interesting experiment in physics.

Life has continued and now I am alone again, the blissful independence, the silence, the security. It was really, and I am not kidding, a true joy/Zen challenge to spend the week with my two-year-old nephew, and I am the better for it. I hope he is, too. We forged a bond, built of repetitious food choices and much time spent in the water; of lessons learned again in how to make for a toddler a rhythm of days that's comforting, interesting, and contained enough to feel secure and his experience that here is another adult who can be counted on to be always present and responsive; and of pure proximity. A whole 'nother part of my brain it took to do this job of "mothering" that I haven't done in, well, 16 years, quite this way. So I apologize for the lapse of four days here, but things did become a mite overwhelming there at the end, and there was no real moment at which available time and creative impulse converged.

Just couldn't get a clear shot. But I think you can see the layers of sauce on his happy visage.

After exploring the MOBOT Childrens' Garden (wow -- I highly recommend it, even though I haven't liked the way it looks in the Garden, from the outside) we had our most exiting meal of the week at Mama Campisi's on The Hill. I ordered him a child's meal of chicken tenders and fires (homemade, nice looking), but he was only interested in the comp bread and my spaghetti , big shock! I loved it when he said, after picking up a piece if the pre-meal bread and taking a bite, "Dis is good. Tank you!" Smile.

Is it actually raining noodles?

Surprise! Free spumoni!

Check out the smile behind the digital blur. He was having fun! Thank goodness the waiter was understanding.

So now back to my news cycle awareness and yoga and Tony Bourdain and long periods of undisturbed time. It's bitter-sweet, actually. Kind of makes me wonder if I wouldn't make a pretty good (& expensive of course) nanny.

It's a Zoo Around Here!

2008-08-14T11:37:00.004-05:00

The zoo! I haven't been there since my kids were little, regrettably. Not to whine, but it's getting hard to see the animals for the vendors. You can't get to any exhibit without passing junk food and kids' shops. Zach, being a water fiend, adored the fountains, and spent more time playing with the streams of water and getting soaked than he did looking at animals. Excepting the penguins, which utterly fascinated him. They, as does he, like to shriek!

These were a huge hit with the little snicky-poo! I did cheat: I showed him the box before serving him the pasta. I'm wasn't born yesterday.

The presentation.

Food-wise, the child's zoo preference went toward the red, white, and blue popsicle, which I can only conclude is a ritual when visiting with he parents, who are zoo members and presumably frequent visitors. Other items were limited to snack we'd brought: shredded carrots and Pirate's Booty and cashews.

He had no interest in the corndog I offered, which was sad to me, since I adore the corndog and would have been thrilled to share one. However, in my quest to discover food he'll ear -- he's soooooooooooo much pickier than my kids were! -- I made a hit with Annie's Arthur-shaped mac and cheese. I know. It's still processed "kid" food. But at least it's organic and come from the health food aisle! Right? That I served with sausage links, which widely he loves, and more steamed broccoli, which he didn't touch this time.

Tonight: dinner at the grandparents'. I'll photograph and report.

Note: If you're in need to adult cuisine fix, feel free to travel to my other foodie stop: Food.

Zach, Day 2: No Help From Anthony

2008-08-13T19:48:00.006-05:00

Ya, Anth came over, but was helpful only in that he stayed all night and warded off invaders. Ha ha. Basically sat on the couch and complained. Thanks, Bubby. When will he stop acting like a teenager?

I braised some chicken breasts in water, salt, and pepper. I know, bland. That was the intention. To get the little guy to eat some quality protein. You know, that hadn't been processed into the land of the mummies. And then there was Anthony who is not eating carbs past 6PM. So that did it for sauces, more or less.

Braised chicken, steamed broccoli, corn. A meal fit for a baby.

Zack ate the corn and two pieces of broccoli. He would not touch the chicken. I set the little bowl beside his plate for the bits he didn't want, to prevent him throwing them across the room.

Zach, Day 1: Molly Helps

2008-08-12T15:35:00.004-05:00

OK, not really Day 1. Night 1. We got here yesterday evening, around 6. Molly, my teenage daughter, took the reigns of dinner without prompting in order to avoid having to watch Zach while I cooked, looked through the fridge, found a eggplant, and proceeded to make eggplant Parmesan with just a little consultation of me. She winged it, in other words, and it was excellent.

Molly fried up the eggplant in olive oil, which she'd dredged in eggwash, then in flour seasoned with some unexpected spices, like clove.

She puts the eggplant in the baking pan, then tops with warmed marinara sauce from a jar.

Then she spread so fresh ricotta I'd brought, left over from a cheffing gig, some pre-shredded cheddar and some Swiss cheese that she found in the fridge and asked me to slice.

Baked at 350 for about half an hour, it came out bubbly and beautiful.

She served it with rotini and marinara.

Zach, however, was uninterested it and opted for pseudo-food in the form of dinosaur-shaped "chicken" and orange slices. My theory, as of today, is not hold up (see yesterday's post).

My Week With The Two-Year-Old Nephew. What Will I Cook? How Will I Survive? Tune In To See!

2008-08-11T00:46:00.012-05:00

He's Zach. He's two. He's my Godson.

I am staying in an undisclosed suburban location with him for a week, while his parents and older sister cavort around the Virigin Islands. Which end of the stick am I holding, here. :-)

Zach's improvisational pacifier design. Germs be damned.

I haven't spent more than an hour alone with a two-year-old in 16 years (since Molly was two). And the suburbs? Don't even talk to me about it. So here's my plan: Two-year-olds have to eat, right? And I have to blog. So, I'm going to cook for him. And I'm going to post same here. What will he eat? What will he not eat?

Thought:: Wasup with people always thinking there are certain things little kids will and will not eat, anyway? I am FULL of stories about kids suddenly eating things I've cooked that caused their parents to just fall over sideways in awe. Personally, I think that kids eat what they grow up eating, and are curious little monkey scientists just waiting to put new things into their mouths to see what they're made of. It was thus with my own two, who are now grown up and proud possessors of quite fearless, diverse pallets. I mean, really, what did cave people do? Run out for Gerber's and toaster pizza when the kids didn't like the roasted boar and root vegetables? Somehow, I doubt it.

Not that I'm going to torture Zach by making totally unfamiliar foods! That would be cruel. He'll probably be missing Mommy and Daddy, anyway. And food is a big source of comfort and familiarity. I'm going to play it by ear and see what arises. Make him his favorites, and then mix it up a little to see what he does without mom's and dad's expectations.

It's a mystery, right? Will he go for my variations on familiar dishes? Will he opt for only the packaged mac & cheez? Will he try the escargot or the beer braised brats? Alright. Kidding. I know better. The real point is, this week is going to be an example of love and care and nurture, and I'm going to catalog it here.

AND -- will I survive the week?

What could be more family-recipe-oriented than me cooking for little Zach Attach? He's a wild one. If I didn't love him (and my brother and his wife), I would even consider doing this (even though they are paying me pretty well). And, well, maybe the swimming pool and the Wolf cooktop help a little.

So tune in. I may not have time to write a million words, but I will post pictures and results.

And in the mean time, will you please pray/light a candle/cast a friendly spell/dedicate your yoga practice to me? Out there, in the suburban wilds, alone with a toddler, I may need it.

Remember the Sex And The City episode where Samantha sat for Miranda's baby? And then, remember when all the women went to visit their friend, who used to be a wild city girl but then got married and moved to Connecticut or wherever? And they show up out there for her baby shower, all of them dressed in black and looking all pale but then there were all the the suburban moms in their pastel outfits. I'm just saying.

A New Blog For My Birthday

2008-08-03T18:23:00.003-05:00

It's my birthday. I'm 49.

Fabulous gifts: a Virginia Wolf doll, new copy of Mrs. Dalloway, NIN tickets, and visits or promised visits from my darling children.

And this official launch of my new blog so that this one can go back to focusing on family recipes and stories and I'll still have a venue for my narcissistic need to share my cooking adventures and photos with you (whomever you are): Food.

Weekend Herb Blogging: Texas Tortilla Soup, Featuring Cilantro

2008-08-01T19:18:00.015-05:00

It's my pleasure to present, in simultaneous return to the families live for food and stories theme of this blog and Kelly's at Sounding My Barbaric Gulp! hosting of Kalyn's Kitchen's Weekend Herb Blogging, my cousin Nancy's Texas Tortilla Soup.

This recipe features cilantro, an herb common in a lot of Tex-Mex and some Mexican cuisines. It's also used in Asian, Spanish and Latin American, Vietnamese, Indian, and other Southeast Asian cuisines. A lot of people like cilantro, but then a lot of people don't. There are actual groups dedicated to the hating of it. Seems odd to me, because I like it pretty well.

Why? Is it really awful? Not to me. I don't find it any stronger than most other common herbs. Maybe there's some chemical particular to cilantro that some people's tongues just react against. Anyway, I like it. It has a brightness that really sets off the Mexican flavors, too. And of course it's full of vitamin C and stuff.

Cilantro, an annual herb of the family Apiaceae, is easy to grow in most climates that have a warm growing season. It just needs well drained soil, and can take a little shade in the hot afternoon. And if you let it seed out, you get coriander (the seeds).

A note on the cilantro salmonella recalls: I'm getting to where I don't buy vegetables and herbs that I'm going to eat raw from the grocery stores. I either get them from local growers, or I grow them myself. If you notice, most of the trouble foods (if not all) come from big growers and distributors. But before I eat any raw food with the peal on it I soak it in a mix of water and vinegar, threeTablespoons to a gallon.

Here is the recipe. The story I'm associating with it is below that.

Texas Tortilla Soup
from Nancy Thompson

Nancy Says: This recipe is adapted from one published in a newspaper, by the Houston' restaurant Rotisserie for Beef & Bird.

Ingredients:

2 tablespoons oil

1 large onion, chopped

1 fresh jalapeno, seeded and chopped

4 cloves garlic, minced

2 large carrots, diced

6 ribs celery, diced

1 teaspoon each: ground cumin, chili powder, salt, and lemon pepper

2 teaspoons bottled liquid hot red pepper sauce (such as Tabasco)

1 pound diced, skinless, boneless chicken breasts

1 can RoTel (tomatoes with green chilies)

4 (10 1/2 ounce) cans chicken broth, or equivalent homemade stock

1/2 cup flour

1/4 to 1 cup fresh cilantro, chopped

8 corn tortillas, cut in strips

oil for frying tortillas

salt to taste on tortilla strips

garnishes: diced avocados, grated cheddar cheese

Heat oil in large skillet

Saute chopped onion, jalapeno, garlic, carrots, celery, and chicken, and
Simmer 5 minutes

Add the measured spices and flour, and

Cook, stirring, for five minutes

Add RoTel, cilantro, and chicken stock, and

Simmer for 1 hour

In a heavy skillet, heat oil to medium-high

Carefully lay tortilla strips into the hot oil, and

Fry until crisp, then

Drain on paper towels and salt to taste

To serve, put a few tortilla strips into the bottoms of your soup bowls, ladle the soup over, and garnish with the cheese and avocado. Serve with some longnecks, and lemonade for the kiddies!

The Story: Texas Camping Masacre

Nancy Thompson is my first maternal cousin Danny Thompson's wife. Thompson is actually her birth name, which was handy when they got married, I guess. I don't know if she was like me and not into changing her name, or if she wouldn't have minded, but either way it was a non-issue, obviously. They live on a ranch right outside scenic Fredericksburg, TX. Which means they eat Tex-Mex. They're both good cooks.

I'm sorry to say that I haven't been down there to visit them. Yet. And I don't know if the email address for them I have is a good one or not, because they never answer my emails (I'm not kidding) and they don't bounce back. Therefore, I will have to give you my own Fredericksberg, TX story, to set the scene. Maybe some day it will mean something to my children, if nothing else.

And there is a helpful hint in this story that could save your butt one day, if you're attacked by a skunk. And hint is food based.

I know.

Anyway, back in the early '80s my friend Carol and I went camping by the Guadeloupe River, in those gorgeous dessert-brushy hills west of Fredericksberg. Carol drove a brand new Porsche. She worked for Exxon. (I know.) We took my dog, Missy, with us. It took some talking to get Carol to let Missy in the Porsche. I sold the idea on guard dog grounds.

Missy was a Beagle I'd found roaming around a lake in Illinois, and taken home with me out of mercy and greed. She was a sweet, good natured thing. Not very old. Innocent and energetic. When we got to the hills and starting making camp, Missy instantly lit out chasing those fabulous TX jackrabbits, with their ears as tall as their bodies. Who cold stop her? There was hardly anyone out there right then, anyway, so I just let her run.

We lit a fire, made with mesquite we gathered from the brush. The river rushed through the valley down the hill from us, reminding me of all the time I'd spent with my grandparents canoeing in the Ozarks -- to me, a sound of happiness. On the fire, I showed Carol how to make the taquitos my Mexican boyfriend Rudy had shown me how to prepare on another camping trip in the Guadeloupe mountains: slice avocado; pull cilantro leaves off the stem; in iron skillet: cook chorizo and potatoes cooked over the fire, add Chiquaqua cheese at the end; on big flat rock: heat the tortillas; put chorizo-potato-cheese yumminess into tortilla, add avocado; eat. Wow. She liked it. Missy liked the leftovers. The longnecks (that 'beer' to you non-Texans) went well with it.

Then darkness, and bedtime. The tent. Carol had big ole six-shooter with her. Some guy she was seeing talked her into bringing it, in lue of talking her into bringing himself. In the tent, a little two-man pup, we kept it there between our two heads. I was more afraid it would go off accidentally and cause I big, messy tragedy than I was that some gruesome creature-man would come in after us. Wasn't that what the dog was for? To warn and snarl and attack?

But in the end it wasn't the gun or the creature-man that got us. It was the dog and the rain the skunk, it exactly the right combination.

The night wore on past midnight. Missy chased jackrabbits. It started to rain. There was a yelp. There was a terrible smell. Missy came back and wept outside the tent, dragging with her the strongest smell of skunk I can remember smelling.

Good Lord. Now here's a mess. The dog is whining and wet and sitting outside the tent. Now it's starting to thunder and lightning. The only possible shelters for Missy are the tent and the Porsche. I look over at Carol, and she shakes her head No. She has her hand on the six-shooter. That's not really necessary, I think. But I'm quiet. I can here her thinking: I didn't want to bring the d**n dog in the first place.

There was no immediate solution. She wouldn't let me put the dog in the car until I got the smell of her, and we were miles from everything and in the middle of a huge storm.

Waiting for morning. A long wait. Whining dog and skunk smell. Carol with gun. I didn't sleep much. Finally, it's dawn.

Rocky hills, mesquite, stinky dog, air that smells like fresh linens and moving water. The river down the hill. Angry friend with fancy car, no other way home (remember kids, there were not really any cell phones in the Old Days). What am I going to do?

Then I remember! My grandma Nonie, Ozark Lady (read: nature-loving hillbilly) that she was, had given me before she died the solution to nearly every problem in the universe. And sitting there nearly crying in the golden Guadeloupe morning her visage came back to me like a glowing Virgin with her foot upon a skunk, uttering the magic words: tomato juice.

I need to borrow the car. You wait here with the dog. I said to Carol. She made me explain. She gave me the keys. I drove down the blacktop and in short order saw a little country store, went in, bought six big cans of tomato juice, drove back.

I had to hold my breath while I pulled Missy into the Guadeloupe by her collar, but the pried-open cans of tomato juice were sitting on the near back, ready to go. I poured them, all of them,. all of the cans of tomato juice over the dog, one at a time, while she stood in the clear moving water and looked at me with her giantly soft brown eyes. Whata girl. I felt like defending her from mean TX women too attached to their cars, but didn't dare, considering.

Then I rinsed her off. She smelled wonderful! Clean and perfect. Tomato juice = goodbye skunkstink!

And off we all went in the car. Carol and I explored wonderful Fredericksburg, ate a German meal, looked in shops, and then headed toward Austin in search of a hotel that would let a dog in. We found one, and went immediately to sleep.

And so, in the the theme of Fredericksburg and tortillas and Texas and cilantro, we have Nancy's Tortilla Soup. Enjoy.

A Re-Ordering, & Return to Original Purpose

2008-08-01T17:21:00.012-05:00

Ya, ya, I know. Where's my focus gone? Why have the family recipes been supplanted by my own wanderings through the landscape of this food and that one, with only occasional, lame references to something that might, at least in my own fevered mind, qualify as a family connection? Why?

Son.

I don't know. But I'm going to fix it now. I'm unveiling a second food blog, Food, on which I'll do all the things foodyrandom that have ADDed me over here. And Smith Family Recipes and Stories will return to its purpose, Smith family recipes and stories. Now that's some rocket science for you.

Daughter.

Sidebar: Wonder how many meals it took to grow these kids to these sizes? Not only that, they were raised on a fairly high percentage of organic stuff and fresh produce. Just think. And on an adjunct instructor's salary, too. OK, so maybe they seem a little quirky. So what? They're cool! And they're good people.

I'll be posting my family recipes, even though, given the sad lack of "typing" my extended family appears willing to express ("Oh, we love the idea, Margaret, thank you so much for doing this! We'll be sending in lots of things, very soon! And by the way, how do you work those internets, again?" NOTE to family: no internets or googles skills required; you can put it in an envelope and mail it to me if you want! Or call me on the phone! Like I've said a million times! And anyway, if you're emailing me to tell me you don't know how to do it, you're already doing it! Just put the recipe in the email! mygaud)(OK, sorry. I weakened and allowed myself to feel the frustration there for a minute).

Most of recipes will come from our photocopied family cookbooks. But what's wrong with that? That's ok, right? Maybe I'll just have to call people when i can't remember a story for the recipe. So tune in. Maybe the new direction will cause my darling son to quit aspiring to look like he's from New Jersey, or my darling daughter to (finally) quit growling at me.

Put de Lime in de Coconut!

2008-07-30T11:52:00.009-05:00

I'll tell you, I'm so enamoured with the lime and the coconut (and the various other Southeast Asian flavors), I can't stop putting things together randomly to see how they turn out. Here's one that's so simple, and works so well, is so refreshing and unexpected and comforting, you're just crazier than me if you don't try it.

This recipe will serve four. If you want to make it for one or two, just use fewer bananas and store the left over coconut milk in the fridge for later.

Banana Towers in Coconut Sauce

1 can coconut milk

2-4 bananas, depending on size

1/4 cup sugar

2 limes

Nut butter *-- tahini, cashew, or other favorite (optional)

Heat the coconut milk over medium heat.

Add the sugar, and wisk until disolved; set aside.

Slice each banana.

Pour about 1/3 cup of the coconut mixture into a bowl.

Make two "towers" of the banana slices in the pool of coconut milk.

Squeeze 1/4 slice of lime over the whole.

Drizzle on about a tablespoon of nut butter, if using.

Set a slice of lime on top.

Serve immediately.

* If your nut butter is too thick to drizzle, thin it down by blending in a little coconut milk or citrus juice. I like to use a runny tahini, myself.

Note: You are putting de lime in de coconut here. It may in fact settle an upset tummy.

Dishy Italian

2008-07-22T21:24:00.003-05:00

Remember back when I made the Unnamed Italian Dish for the STL Foodbloggers' potluck? Well, I made an extra pan of them and put it in the freezer. Last week I got it out, and had it now and then until Frank came over for the weekend and I fried an egg, warmed a serving of the IDICR, stacked and sprinkled the two with salt and pepper and Parmesan, drizzled on a little olive oil, and knocked his hungry socks off.

So now I'm wondering how many baked dishes and casseroles have the potential to become fabulous breakfast dishes is a flash, like this one. Seriously. "Add An Egg 101." Maybe we should do it.

How to Survive Baseball in 111 Degree Heat

2008-07-21T11:42:00.007-05:00

Quick answer: walk over to J. Buck's and get a cold cocktail. Stay and enjoy the game on the big screen TV until your super-sweet fiance comes in after the game to share a nice dinner with you. I like to think this is what any reasonable person would do. I did stick it out until the top of the 9th inside the big concrete, heat-absorbing bowl of a stadium that turned the 99-degree outside air into a 111-degree killer. I really think that's plenty tough-dame of me, don't you? Time to chill!

I chose to indulge myself with the marvelous Island Blue Martini, pictured above. Isn't it lovely? And so very delicious. The waitress said the bartender said the recipe goes like this:

Equal parts Malibu Rum and Blue Coraco

A splash of pineapple juice

Shake, of course, then pour.

Coconut. Pineapple. Blueness. Sweet anticipation; ordering this little drink was a joy. Like running toward the sea. Drinking it was even better. I'd have loved it just as much alcohol free. As a matter of fact, if someone could figure out how to make exactly this flavor and color purely, without chemicals, I'd -- she'd -- make a million bucks.

Stretch toward family recipe/story connection? My family loves baseball (yes, Cardinals baseball). My family loves cocktails. So there you go.

I know, I'm veering off focus here from the family thing. My darling relatives are really not engaging as fully as I'd hoped, with the exception of Ms. Lisa, and she has been busy with a new job lately. Therefore, I'm going to take a new approach to getting our family recipes and stories blogged here properly, which I will unveil in the coming weeks. In the mean time, the stretching toward connections will continue.

Travelogue: Detroit Rocks -- and Eats!

2008-07-12T22:48:00.027-05:00

Frank standing under one of the massive tigers at Detroit's Comerica Park

Home of Elmore Leonard and Kid Rock. Francis Ford Coppola and Toi Derricotte. Leonard still lives here. People are moving downtown. I thought I'd be cowering in my room waiting for the zombied homeless and cracked-up gangs to break the door down (sort of, really I had kind of an open mind, but I was ready for the worst given the press coverage and my boss's assertion that I should "take a firearm").

Comerica Park. Our hotel is the very narrow red brick building directly left of the upper tip of the left tower behind the scoreboard. You can see how gorgeous is the skyline. And that's Canada in the background.

What I found instead was that I was cool about walking around by myself (just like Mexico!), even at night, sort of (there's no where I really feel totally safe walking around at night -- that's just me). Tons of fun. Character. Don't forget the current Stanley Cup Champions; those pesky Tigers, who almost robbed our Cardinals of the MLB World Championship in 2006; and well, I think they have a football team, too.

Plenty of good food in Detroit. The best? A little snacking we did at Vincente's Cuban Cuisine. The best mojito I've ever had, no kidding (matching price at $8 -- I had one), and a small plate of Cuban sandwiches and omelets, compliments of the tour company with whom we finished our three hours of purposeful downtown Detroit walking at Vincetne's. In retrospect I wish I'd gone ahead and had dinner there, even if it isn't native (to Detroit) cuisine.

Detroit Beer Company. Yum. My favorite?
The one on the left: People Mover, named after their mass transit train.
Ya, which I rode.

From there I took off on my own (Frank went to the ballpark, of course) for further adventures. After walking the floridly post-apocalyptic city streets for a bit in the dusty light of the fading sun I settled on trying some local beers, rather than the small plates place next door to it (called Small Plates). You know, I've had a lot of small plates lately and the menu looked pretty standard. And at $12.95 on apparent average for a small plate, I thought my money'd be better used sampling several small beers! I was right, and really too full to want much more to eat right then, anyway. I think I'd gone a little farther with the Cubans than I'd first realized.

In the Detroit Beer Company I ordered a flight, though it wasn't on the menu. The bartender forgot, and after 15 minutes I reminded her. It was quite busy, and I think (hope) she was new. By then I'd met a gaggle of local business men who'd gone to high school together (one had come in from Chicago) all of whom reminded me of my brother, on their way to the Tigers game. They were every bit as polite and fun as every other Detroitite we met on the trip. Just really gentlemanly. The beers on the flight, once I got them, were delicious. The glasses were a little larger than the usual flight-sized jumbo shot glass size, and there wasn't a key (like I'm going to remember what the bartender told me as she set them in front of me). But that was ok, because I got help from up and down the bar -- everyone wanted to know what I thought of the stout (yum, Guiness-y) or the cloudy wheat (fruity, sharp, hops coming up as an after thought). So that was cool, too. I was there to dig the local color, after all, and this was it.

(Side bar: I have really been way more into good beer lately than wine. I'm just liking how it sits in my tummy and makes me feel nourished. Plus, there's something very fresh-born and living about a good beer, brewed right there where your drinking it. In the STL I'm constantly craving Square One Brewery's Spicy Blond, with its ginger and creamy foam.)

Comerica Park is just a couple of blocks from the hotel we stayed in -- a basic Hilton. It's a pleasant walk. Detroit has a definite Bladerunner feel about it, gritty and gorgeous. Major pre-Depression, Gilded Age, and Art Deco architecture from Gordon Llyod and Louis Kamper. But some of the most important buildings are vacant, the windows blown out, story after story of broken glass. How many vandals does it take to break out 33 floors of windows? Or was it some unnaturally strong wind that blew through, then was forgotten?

Of course, Detroit is a water town. The name comes from French Rivière du Détroit, i.e. "River of the Strait." Standing high inside the Book-Cadillac building on our architectural-of-sorts tour, Canada was clearly taunting from the other side, all health-carded up and non-violent. It's kind of like a reverse-Juarez/El Paso situation, only no one seems to realize it. On the other hand, the city dwellers I met were passionate about the revitalization of their downtown. There is a new central plaza at Campus Martius Park -- yes, that's Latin for Field of Mars. And yes, it was, in 1788, a military drill ground. There are restaurants and coffee shops and music at noon and festivals.

Lafayette's, Our Coney Dog Tasting Winner

And there are scads and scads of (oddly cheerful) homeless people, everywhere. One downtown business keeps it's doors locked -- has to let you in to eat -- to keep the homeless people out. A Coney dog stand. Not a swanky joint at all.

But the homeless people I encountered seemed somehow to be taking themselves with a grain of salt. They were sort of laughing as they asked for a dollar, and if you declined they'd just offer an optimistic sports prediction (like, after a losing Tigers game, "We'll get 'em next time!")

Back to the ball park, here are Coney dogs. Tons. As well there should be, and prominently, since they are THE native food of Detroit. Sure, there's fried ravioli in my home town's Busch stadium, but you can hardly find it. And when you do it's not the real thing! It's some sort of cross between a fried rav and a Fig Newton. But you can get a Coney dog lots of places in the Tiger's den.

And local ice cream. And local soda. Local microbrews! And freshly made elephant ears! These things were fantastic! I don't know if they're native, but they sure beat the pants off the frozen-then-fried funnel cake they feed you at Busch. An elephant ear is a lot like a funnel cake, in principle: both are made from a basic batter of flour and water, then dropped into a hot deep fat and fried until they're golden brown, then sprinkle them with powdered sugar so that it melts into the surface. But the key to tasty in both instances is that you eat them immediately after they come out of the frier. Frozen then fried, they're ok, but there is nothing sublime about them. And sublime is, after all, what we're going for, right? The fresh elephant ear -- a large misshapen disk of half-inch thick, hot fried dough, topped with sugar and cinnamon, is really, really sublime. Comerica also offers cherry and apple topping. But I opted for the sugar-cinnamon so I could eat it with my fingers. Yum!

Yip, that's it, the Coney Dog

Now, apparently the question of deep food related importance to Detroit dwellers and visitors is the relative merit of Coney Dog offerings. A true, traditional Coney has a hot dog on a bun covered in chili, onions, and mustard (the mustard goes on top of the chili). There are loyalists for both American and Lafayette's, the two oldest venders in town. The stores are neighbors and once were owned by the same family. Naturally we had a tasting, and Frank and I agreed, Lafayette's is the best, in spite of being the younger pretender. The dog itself had a more "homey" look, with its hand crimped ends, and a bit more bite-back. There was more chili, and the chili itself was just slightly spicier -- though beyond that feature it really did seem like the same recipe. Also, more plentiful onions and mustard. And maybe I dig the smaller, stranger space, too.

So why go to San Fran or Maui and blow your carbon footprint out of the water? Why, when there are undiscovered crazy-interesting places near-ish to home. Like Detroit. I feel a little bit like a maverick, having vacationed there. And that makes me happy.

I Heart The Missouri Botanical Garden!

2008-07-02T13:21:00.014-05:00

My little bed in the Lafayette Square Community Garden won an award!

Clockwise from the lower right corner: sorrel, pansies, a little wildflower mix, a broccoli, a rhubarb (the tallest plant), beats, and finally the tall, orange poppies. There are carrots hidden behind the beets, and a couple of Cherokee Purple tomatoes that will have more room once I harvest the root vegetables in about a week.

Thank you, Missouri Botanical Garden and Gateway Greening, for recognizing so many community gardeners from around the city. And for the free one year membership to the MOBOT! I've been wanting to get one since I moved into the city! I'm so happy! The garden is less than four miles from my house.

It was totally fun and inspiring to get my little Outstanding Bed award, and to drive around on the bus with all the garden lovers and gardeners looking at other neighborhoods lovely gardens. My great friend Robin showed up at the bus, and we had a wonderful time on the tour and at the luncheon.

Dr. Raven's remarks about community gardening were wonderful. 270 pounds of produce from a typical individual bed in a season? I can believe it. Just think. Community gardening could be a real god-send, now that we've exited the Holocene (see Davis in The Nation). Growing our own food here in the urban jungle may not be just a pretty pastime, any more. As fuel gets more and more expensive, fresh food that doesn't have to be shipped? Well, it's obvious. And the dearth of grocery stores in most city neighborhoods has been a reality for some time, ensuring the poor have yet another hurdle to good health (fast and packaged, processed food is always available).

And ya, I come from a family of gardeners. It's second nature. It's my link to the earth, the seasons, what anchors me on the planet. Guess what? Good gardens, good food. It's the most perfect equation in the world.

A view of my bed, with my name tag visible. At this angle the sage is right up front, with winter savory behind it, and the carrots to the left, beets to the right, the rhubard looking all tall -- oh, ya, and the sunflower that volunterred, and a couple of poppies peaking out!

Me accepting the award from Dr. Peter Raven, Director of the Missouri Botanical Garden. What a really sweet, rather brilliant man. He was just glowing. I know, horrible photo of me.

A bed in the Monsanto YMCA Garden. East bed has a really cool personalized sign.

Ladies of Wells Community Garden won the First Place Ornamental Garden Award.
Notice the blown-out house behind it. This north St. Louis community garden is a true oasis for
the neighborhood.

Gorgeous, huge hydrangea in the Ladies of Wells Garden. This garden reminded my of my grandma Nonie's yard.

My Little Award. I'm know, I'm a real nerd for showing it off. But I'm so proud!

Thai for Molly and Me

2008-06-26T21:36:00.023-05:00

Speaking of family. What do you do when your babygirl gets nauseous from your French cooking? Switch to Thai, of course. When she loves Thai and so do you. See, fats just do not agree with her, and she doesn't like eggs. I know, there is plenty of French cooking based on fresh foods. But she loves the flavors of the Thai, the sweet-salty of from the play of palm sugar and fish sauce, the tang of the wild lime. These flavors are unique to the far east, and a far cry in another direction from even the most perfectly roasted vegetable.

So off I went tonight to take cookbook author Naam Pruitt's Thai class at Kitchen Conservatory. It was my first class there. It was pretty fun. The food definitely rocked.

This is Naam Pruitt with her lovely cook book, in the also lovely Kitchen Conservatory kitchen.

She looks sweet, but you should see her swing a clever!

We began with a Green "Papaya" (som-tom) salad.

Since somehow the shopping before Naam arrived went astray, and several "wrong" ingredients were brought back, what would have been green papaya in the salad became cucumber, the long beans were left out (ickily aged), and there were no dried shrimp (when you go to get your own, be sure to get the little tiny unshelled ones, not large ones in the shell, which Naam sampled and pronounced to taste "like fossil"). Nonetheless, the little salad, now with cucumber and cherry tomato as the main veggies, and the flavors of palm sugar, fish sauce, garlic, fresh lime juice, and peanuts was in spite of all the grocery glitches, fantastic.

Northeastern (Essan) Beef Salad (nua-naam-tak)

This delicious collage of fesh mint, cilantro, shallots, green onions, garlic, fish sauce, lime juice, sugar, dried chilis, and grilled steak was quite yummy. Naam put the beef in a bowl to cool after taking it off the grill, then used the juices that bled out in the dressing. Anything that has so many fresh herbs in it is called by Thais a "salad." For us it would probably be a main course. In Thailand, though, meals tend to be lots of little dishes set out, eaten with the fingers together with sticky rice. I like it!

Grilled Chicken (Gai-yang)

This simple dish was fantastic. Whole chicken was marinated in a scant coating of sugar, light soy sauce, white pepper, and garlic, then flattened on a rack and broiled on both sides. Naam let it cool, then attacked it with the clever (see above). She served it with sticky rice. I was, really, juicy and perfect.

Sticky Rice and Mangos (kao-neow-mah-muang)

Coincidentally, I tried making this wonderful rice pudding at home over the weekend. I don't know for sure what my guests thought of it, but I feel hard in love. (I seem to have a thing for coconut, if you haven't noticed.) I used the black glutenous rice the other recipes I'd seen called for. Poor Naam was surprised by a Japanese sushi-style rice in the kitchen, but I have to say she managed to get it just right, just the same. It wasn't as dramatic looking as the black rice (which is purple and makes a purple broth), but it was every bit as flavorful. I mean, really, this is just about the most comforting thing I've ever eaten outside of my mother or grandmothers' kitchens.

No, I take that back. The most comforting outside of. I learned a trick or two of course watching Naam prepare it. The method is simple: cook four cups of sticky rice; boil a can of coconut milk and a half cup of sugar; set aside a little bit of the milk to pour over; add the rice to the rest of the coconut milk and let it cook until it thickens a bit. Now serve this in bowls, with chunks of mango and, if you want, some freshly toasted sesame seeds. In Thailand this is a summer dish (March and April; April and May? which did she say?). That's it. I have some in my fridge now. I'm going to have it for breakfast!

I want to get Naam's book. So should you. She's a sweetie, and I watched her overcome several obstacles, including a little bit of spaciness (just like mine!) to produce some fabulous, authentic Thai food. The bonus? She learned these recipes from her mother. Let your imagination take you to how many generations back those "recipes" might go. They weren't recipes until Naam wrote them down, of course. They were teachings. And now I will teach them to my daughter. And help her tummy. And her taste. And her understanding of how much I love her.

Go see Naam Pruitt's cookbook, Lemongrass & Limes.

Special Guest Column from Melissa Dommert: Mama’s Strawberry Jelly, In Loving Memory of Patsy Marie Paul

2008-06-19T19:56:00.012-05:00

Many times the heart of a recipe is one of the most important ingredients included. The memories and the love are just as important as the sugar, flour and butter, etc. This is how I feel about Mama's Strawberry Jelly.

Mama

Mama passed away in 1995, leaving behind a husband, 6 children and their families to cherish her memory. She also had her first great-grandchild on the way. That little one is now 12 years old. Her name is Hannah Marie (the Marie is after my Mother) and I am her godmother. My goal has been to make my Mother as real to Hannah and the other grandchildren as possible by sharing recipes and memories.

Aunt Missy (Melissa) & Hannah

Mama’s Strawberry Jelly

In Loving Memory of Patsy Marie Paul

by Melissa Dommert

Baytown, Texas

Please accept this special gift of Mama’s strawberry jelly recipe as a token of our love. For you see, it’s the result of group effort. First, God grew the ripe, fragrant berries and Mama loved them so much that she wanted to have enough to last through the winter months. So, she sent Daddy to the store to buy an ample supply. Next, we washed and sliced them and put them in the freezer. Mama enjoyed them until she was called away to Heaven. After she was gone, the berries waited patiently to be used, but I left them alone. I made the excuse that I was to busy to do anything with them. But, now I realize that I just wanted to keep something that Mama had touched and enjoyed. Preparing those berries was one of the last projects we did together.

Several years earlier, when I was a young bride, Mama had bought me my first canning equipment. She was always interested in what kind of jam, jelly or pickle I was trying out at the time. What could be more fitting than to make jelly out of Mama’s strawberries? While I made the jelly, my heart was happy and sad all at the same time. My heart ached because I missed her so much (it still does). My heart also sang because nothing would make Mama more happy than to share another gift with the ones she loved. She would be grateful to touch our everyday life in a way that we could see, smell and taste.

I shared the jelly with my family and I hoped that as they enjoyed it they would remember the light in Mama’s eyes and see her beautiful smile. I hoped they would feel the warmth of her hand close to their heart. Those little jars of jelly were packed with Mama’s love! She wanted to be remembered. She loved everyone so much and she would never want to be forgotten. She would want her memory to live on even as she is alive in her new life in Heaven. I couldn’t bring myself to open my jar of jelly. It was too precious. What could I do with it? It had to be something special. I decided to enter it in the fair we used to have here in town very fourth of July. For years I had entered lots of cakes, pies, jellies and preserves and Mama always insisted that I call as soon as I had found out where I had placed in each category. To my surprise, mine and Mama’s jelly won a third place ribbon! I know she was proud of us.

The strawberries are gone and the jelly is gone but Mama’s love is still shining brightly in my heart. The best way that I can honor her is by doing my best every day and by trying to uphold the values her and my Dad taught me. As long as I’m alive, her memory will live on and I’ll never look at a jar of strawberry jelly the same way again!

MAMA’S STRAWBERRY JELLY

3 quarts strawberries
3½ cups prepared juice
4½ cups sugar
1 box powdered pectin

Wash and remove caps from berries. Crush berries and simmer for 10 minutes or so, covered, stirring occasionally. Strain juice through several layers of cheesecloth. Measure sugar; set aside. Stir pectin into prepared juice in a medium size pan. Bring to a full boil over high heat. Add sugar, return to a full, rolling boil. Boil hard 1 minute., stirring constantly. Remove from heat. Carefully ladle into hot, sterilized jars and seal (process if desired). Store in a cool, dry place.

Yield: 6 to 8 small jars.

Poppies Among the Beets

2008-06-17T22:42:00.008-05:00

Beet greens are the dark purple in the top left, and in the way top right of the photo. You can also see some tucked there near the pansies. To the right of the photo, out of the frame, is a huge field of them (at least three by three feet!). -- Photo by Molly

My little garden is so lush, it's amazing the birds can find the bugs in it. Babygirl and I took some more beet tops, cooked them with a little Thai fish sauce, garlic, and rice vinegar. Then served them over some, again, Thai Black Sticky Rice. Yum! Now that is some fabulous rice. It needs soaking before cooking, but it's worth it. (I want to get one of the steamers shown in that link a couple of sentences back.) Apparently, though, while the rice is eaten throughout Indonesia in many recipes, in Thailand it's made into a pudding, with coconut milk. Yes, I plan to make that! It would probably be very soothing to Babygirl's tummy. Wish I had a photo of the rice and beet greens... reds, but, well, the camera was temporarily borrowed by someone. And so, please, content yourselves with this gorgeous poppy, taken by, again, Babygirl, as it was growing in my garden just yesterday afternoon, there among the beet greens and fading pansies.

Love,

M

Mamaw's Strawberry Filled Angel Food Cake

2008-06-06T20:05:00.010-05:00

The cake, as drawn by William "Shane" Smith, my uncle.

I remember my Mamaw's lemon-filled layer cake as my very, very favorite little girl aspiring-to-be-a-princess dessert, and I think it was frosted in whipped cream. Can anyone tell me for sure what exactly she did to summon that cake from Cakeland Nirvana? Was it lemon curd between all those layers? Was it really whipped cream? And what kind of cake was it? No way you could get prepared lemon curd in Salem in the '60s and '70s, so it had to be a fairly focus-centric recipe. You couldn't even get salsa in Salem until the '80s, for god's sake.

I do know that once I got cognisant I sensed that my requests for the cake, while not unwelcome or necessarily blown-off, were not met with an, "Oh, sure, that would be a snap!" response. So there must have been some work involved.

Does anyone out there have my grandma's lemon-filled cake recipe? I had always thought it was angel food, but I think I remember now being told that she didn't fill the angel food with lemon, that was some other kind of white or yellow cake. Whatever it was, it was sublime, and I'm pretty sure I got to eat it into my 30s.

Now comes her Strawberry Filled Angel Food Cake. This is extant in my Mamaw's own type-written hand in her booklet MY COOKIES, AND MORE, from 1993, which she put together to save us from the fate of losing her recipes when we lost her. Good grandma-ness. And as a side note, once I get the time I intend to scan the pages of that book, for two purposes: to have them in PDF electronic copy for archiving; and to get the really cool little hand drawn illustrations [see example above] into a form I can convert to jpeg and then use here to accompany the recipes as I post them. My mom says that Uncle Bill Smith did the drawings! There are very sweet.

A couple of note: This calls for frozen strawberries. There must be a reason for this. Because it's not like we weren't swimming in fresh strawberries from Grandpa Trout's garden! So it must be that Mamaw thought the frozen ones superior for this cake! This theory is further supported here by the absence of other short cuts -- real whipped cream, for instance. And unflavored gelatin. So I'd suggest hanging with the recipe at least the first time around. Brainstorm: she may very well have been using her own frozen strawberries that did in fact come from Grandpa Trout's garden. Also, I have made only one small edit to the recipe, in brackets below. The formatting is original.

Here is the recipe. It's perfect for spring. Enjoy.

STRAWBERRY FILLED ANGEL FOOD CAKE
from Wanda Lucile Smith

Split large angel food cake into 3 layers with sharp, long knife. Thaw 10 oz. package frozen strawberries. Drain juice, add enough water to make 1/4 cup and heat. Soak 2 packages plain (Knox) gelatin and dissolve in hot juice. Mix in strawberries which have been mashed with a fork. Do not cook berries. Cool. Whip 2 cups whipping cream. Add 1/4 cup sugar and mashed berries. Spread between layers and on top and sides of cake.

Chill whipped cream-strawberry mixture a while [or it will be] too soft to put on cake. Keep cake chilled.

Then the Beet Tops with Coconut Milk

2008-06-06T15:43:00.009-05:00

I saved the beautiful beet tops (see the red leafy matter in the post before this one), chopped them up, and cooked them thusly:

I heated some olive in a large sauce pan, added coarsely chopped onions, put on the lid and sweated them. Then I added the "reds" (beet greens), a cup of red quinoa, a cup of red lentils, a nice chunk of peeled fresh ginger, two cups of water, a can of coconut milk, and salt and pepper, let that all come to a boil, then lowered the heat and simmered it, covered, for just under half an hour.

Once the quinoa had opened and become pretty tender, I added the zest of a lime, and the juice of two.

This is really, really yummy! It is full of wonderful textures, creamy lentils and the unmatchable comforting interest of the bursting quinoa, like vegetable caviar. The "reds" might be added later in the process though, as I think they could have been more prominent in the dish. I added some Thai hot sauce and a little more fresh lime juice at serving. And of course the dish is magnificently good for you. It's low in calories and very filling. I've taken it to lunch two days in a row, and it's kept my very low-tending blood sugar stable until well into the evening.

Mixed Blessings, Beautiful Tiny Harvest

2008-06-02T20:38:00.018-05:00

The green side of the bouquet of Bull's Blood Beets and Dragon Blood Carrots.

Recipe: Quick and Crunchy Pickled Baby Beets and Carrots
(& Accidental Ruby Dressing for Salad Greens)
Slice your vegetables into nice even bits on put them in a heat-proof bowl. Boil some vinegar and turbino sugar, then pour it over the vegetables while it's still boiling, then cover the bowl with a plate and let the vegetables steam for at least an hour (I left mine overnight). I put them on my salad, and used the juice as dressing after adding a little almond oil!

Today I pulled the first of my precious Bull's Blood beets and Dragon's Blood carrots from the loose and most perfect soil of my little community garden plot. Tiny, so tiny, and now bathing in an Icelandic bath of vinegar and turbino sugar, overnight, to be added to the salad I'll take to work tomorrow, the salad of the dewicious wettuces I picked from thence as well. And a little savory. And the orange California poppies look hearty and lush and I hope they bloom, for they will remind me of my Mamaw, and the long driveway down the hill, and the poppies that grew there for so many years, along the southern side, on the slope, like something from Dorothy, seeding themselves almost into eternity, but not quite, and I couldn't understand Mamaw's calm when I asked her where the poppies were and she said, simply, "They're done."

I thought they were magic(al). In my mind they share a dreamscape with my other grandmother's (Nonie's) Giant Globe Alium, both tall, one orange, one purple, one related directly to the culinary (alium/onion), the other to vice and ecstasy and decline (poppy/opium). And both of them forbidden by either grandmother for picking.

Of course all this pointing to the last walk through the last house, the only house that ever was always there in our gypsy family. The walk I took yesterday through the empty and clean 1157 North Franklin after the estate sale was over, and one day before the closing of the sale of the house, walked through that center of the universe that was my mother's parents' house, now gone the way of the poppies, following them, another moment of "they're done," my grandparents' deaths a few years apart, the rapidity of the sale as my mother, who lived there with my grandfather at the end, reached to digest the death of her father whom she'd cared for every day for three years asking no thanks and getting little understanding of what she was so deeply taking responsibility for, even in her own feebleness. The burning off of karma. The giving. And it's alright. Because death is a release from the cycle that the garden justifies, and the karma needed burning off. And we all have more that is precious than we can ever count, of what they left us, what we are, what we pulled from the ground, the deeper bloodiness of the reaching toward character, just us, pulling out all that chickweed and Bermuda grass that would strangle that memory of goodness and trying to wrench from the natural goodness of our souls that which are grandfather wanted us to be -- which was what he was. And it was good.

Good bye old house. Good bye old grandparents. Hello bloody carrots and beets. I say good bye to you because you are my blood. And I plant you because someone named you: blood. May your rich and obscene dyes redden my mouth and drip down my chin and mark me forever as one who eats, well, from the earth, and knows it's good.

Bouquet of Bull's Blood Beets and Dragon Blood Carrots.

May Table of Contents

2008-05-12T22:23:00.007-05:00

1. Margaret Makes Dolce de Leche Brownies for Cinco de Mayo
2. Cousin Lisa's May Memories
3. Cousin Cheryl's Cheesecake Memories of Mamaw
4. Mother May I -- May Introduction and Call for Stories

May is a Mexican Dessert?

2008-05-12T21:29:00.008-05:00

Ya. Take a look at that sweet bambino of a dolce de leche brownie, baby.

I wanted to make some of these to take to my mom for Mother's Day, but the time, the time it just fizzled away. We moved her this weekend, though. And there was an IGA-bought chocolate cake involved (I know, sometimes you just have to do what you have to do).

My dad, though, was enamoured of all things Latino Americano. I don't think he knew about Cinco de Mayo, did he? Does anyone remember him throwing that particular party? it's hard to believe he wouldn't have if he were aware. Still it's impossible not to think of his bad boy party self. It doesn't matter any more, our differences, because he's gone to that great pontoon boat in the sky, and now I can love a more perfect version of him. Having gotten my mom initially installed in her little retirement apartment, here I introduce you to the best brownie in the world, made by Myself two weekends ago. Here is the secret ingredient, amigas y amigos:

Yes, dolce de leche. The nector of the milky caramel gods, up there skirting the cosmic lakes in their sparkly-lighted boats. Or something. For once in my life invited to a Cinco de Mayo dinner party (thanks, y'all! it was fun!), I made dolce de leche brownies from David Lebowitz's angelic recipe. Finally, a brownie I like that's not The Barefoot Contessa's boxed mix (ya, it's fantastic, when you want a mix -- the only one on earth that's worth buying). Ledowitz's brownie recipe rocks even without the dolce de leche. And with it, wow. Ultimato.

In the STL you can buy the Argentinian dolce de leche at Straub's, for $11. I'm betting it's in Mexican markets on Cherokee Street, too, for about a million dollars less, but I haven't made it over there yet. There is also a method I'm entirely curious about, wherein one covers a can of sweetened condensed milk with water and simmers it for three hours, then lets it cool in the water for another three hours. Easy enough. But I wanted a taste of the yummy stuff made by experts before I embarked on the expedition myself.

Of course this reinforces my recent feeling that I have some karma with Argentina emerging, given Natalia's cake and all.

David Lebowitz's Dulce de Leche Brownies

8 tablespoons (115 g) salted or unsalted butter, cut into pieces
6 ounces (170 g) bittersweet or semisweet chocolate, finely chopped
1/4 cup (25 g) unsweetened Dutch-process cocoa powder
3 large eggs
1 cup (200 g) sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla extract

1 cup (140 g) flour
optional: 1 cup (100 g) toasted pecans or walnuts, coarsely chopped
1 cup Dulce de Leche (or Cajeta)

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees (175 C).

Line a 8-inch (20 cm) square pan with a long sheet of aluminum foil that covers the bottom and reaches up the sides. If it doesn't reach all the way up and over all four sides, cross another sheet of foil over it, making a large cross with edges that overhang the sides. Grease the bottom and sides of the foil with a bit of butter or non-stick spray.

Melt the butter in a medium saucepan. Add the chocolate pieces and stir constantly over very low heat until the chocolate is melted. Remove from heat and whisk in the cocoa powder until smooth. Add in the eggs one at a time, then stir in the sugar, vanilla, then the flour. Mix in the nuts, if using.

Scrape half of the batter into the prepared pan. Here comes the fun part.Drop one-third of the Dulce de Leche, evenly spaced, over the brownie batter, then drag a knife through to swirl it slightly. Spread the remaining brownie batter over, then drop spoonfuls of the remaining Dulce de Leche in dollops over the top of the brownie batter. Use a knife to swirl the Dulce de Leche slightly.

Bake for 35 to 45 minutes. The brownies are done when the center feels just-slightly firm. Remove from the oven and cool completely.

May Memories From Cousin Lisa

2008-05-11T22:19:00.000-05:00

May and Memories. When we lived on Aberdeen Proving Grounds [near Baltimore] in the military duplexes, my father kept a garden, as he usually did wherever we were living. I was always a gung ho harvester at dinner time. Sometimes it was zucchini, (or the blossoms to fry in cornmeal, yum...) or tomatoes, cukes, beans, all kinds of peppers, and more. At this particular warm dusk, I went out along the side of the house and brought in a bowl of fresh lettuce and other add-ins for a nice green salad with our meal. I washed and prepped and dished it up.

As I was I was munching away, I looked down at my plate and saw a little green inchworm mixed right in... I was horrified! My fork almost touched it! What if I had eaten it? Look at his little black eyes! Eww. What if I already DID eat another one! My heart was pounding. I couldn't eat. My Dad said, "Well, you wouldn't want to eat any lettuce that a bug wouldn't eat, now would you?"
When the oogy feeling went away, I knew he was right; but I don't think I ate any salad again that summer.

Summer is dancing before us again, and I love salads. And I still eyeball my salad plate thoroughly to this day.

I had a salad the other day that had mixed greens, arugula, candied walnuts, sliced strawberries, and goat cheese, with a chambord balsamic vinegrette. I don't know the proportions, but it was refreshing and delicious on a hot Florida day. It's perfect for summer. This would be a perfect side salad with pasta or chicken marsala, as I enjoyed it, or as a meal in itself with a hunk of bread for soaking up the last goodness of that dressing. Mmmmm. Now I can't wait to have it again. Give it a try and see if you can come up with some proportions for the vinegrette. Bet you'll like the flavors.

Cousin Cheryl's Cheesecake Memories

2008-05-11T10:00:00.000-05:00

Of course, my memories of Mother's Day and Mamaw have more to do with the garden and the blooming Dogwoods, which are in full bloom here and always remind me of her. She and Pawpaw instilled in me such a love of gardening, and I think it's my most peaceful, love-filled hobby. Spring and mother's day are such a beautiful time!Me with food? Not so much. I'm not like you and Cindy and Lisa.

But if I were to be pressed, it would have to be her cheesecake. That's a story I remember so well!. When she baked one one summer, and the boys got in earlier than I did. They ate the whole thing before I even got there from the airport. For an entire day I whined and whined. "You love the boys more..." "They're your favorites" Of course the boys lapped it up and told me all about how she made it for THEM. etc., etc.

So the next day they were gone fishin' or something stupidly boy-ish. And when I finally got out of bed Mamaw (of course) was already up and baking..."Whatcha doin?" I asked..."making you a cheesecake" she said with her little grin... IT WAS MINE ALL MINE!

Mother May I

2008-05-08T10:47:00.006-05:00

May -- Early Garden Veggies (Asparagus, Peas, Strawberries, Rhubarb, Early Greens, Lamb, new potatoes, Mother’s Day meals, spring desserts)

Here’s what I think would be totally cool to do: Everyone, think of your favorite thing Mamaw or your own mother (if Mamaw wasn’t she) made with any of these ingredients or for a Mother’s Day meal. It doesn’t matter if you have the recipe or not! Just write and tell me what you remember! If I must, I will research to find the recipes! We need more stories up here, more memories. I’m hoping this will cue some!

And yes, the final move out of our beloved grandparents’ house is happening this weekend, and it’s a painful dawn. Something entirely new is emerging. Not to be too cliché, but it is like a birth I suppose, all things new born out of great pain. Appropriate enough that it’s happening in spring. But I hope my mom will be happy in her little retirement duplex. And I know our hearts will bear the sad goodbye to the house that, for all of us I think, signifies love and stability. I know for me Mamaw and Papaw’s house has been the center of the universe, almost literally. The one place that, through everything, never moved or changed. The immovable mover, if you will. It’s hard to imagine now a world without access to it.

Also, Bill, Kristy and the kids are moving back to St. Louis at the exact same time. Woo-hoo, are they hanging on by a thread! Maybe I should make some dolce de leche brownies for them, if I can figure out how to get there with the major highway leading to their house totally closed down. Geez.

In the midst of this, here’s May, and time for the May recipes. Last month I got one from Lisa, and one from Aunt Janey, though it was May by the time hers came in, and so I’m saving it for the next seafood round. I took one of Nancy Thompson’s out of the cookbook, which was a big help. I do wish I could hear from you, Danny and Nancy and Courtney and Connor, more often – I’m not even sure it I am sending to the correct email. I know everyone is busy. Anything from any of you is a dear blessing.

Good news: I was, with the combination of the grant from Foodbuzz and the President's generous suspension of the paying down of the national debt by giving us that extra money able to buy a laptop, which is on it’s was to me now through the mails, and so I will be able to work on the blog at some other time than lunch hour at work! I am totally psyched about working at home on this blog (and other projects). I haven’t had a computer at home in more than three years, and you can imagine the crimp in my style this has caused! So, thanks Ben and George.

So, love to all. Send me a memory. Any time. Live in blissfulness. It’s spring.

M

I have several photos cached away waiting for upload, as I know have my honey digital camera in my possession for that explicit purpose. A new dawn is coming, full of lollipops and honey. Hang on.

April's Table of Contents

2008-04-30T11:04:00.000-05:00

1. Rhubarb & Rose Bread Pudding with Vanilla Bean, Rose, and Rhubarb Coulis
2. The Unnamed Italian Dish -- Requested by Iron Stef
3. Secret Shrimp Throw-Down -- Bill, let's have a tasting contest
4. St. Louis Food Bloggers Potluck -- Gorgeous Photos by Jonathan Pollack
5. Lisa's Favorite Spicey Tilapia with Pineapple-Pepper Relish
6. Nancy Thompson's Grilled Salmon
7. Seafood for Book Clubs
8. How It Went -- Seafood for Book Clubs
9. Report on Making the Cake I Want to Marry
10. Blueberry Crisp (a little riff) -- Eat it or Suffer It's Lack

Blueberry Crisp (a little riff off apple crisp)

2008-04-19T20:00:00.009-05:00

Blueberry crisp, hot from the oven.

Ya, so I had some leftover crisp topping from the apple crisp I made bookclub night, and a bag of frozen wild blueberries in the freezer. So I thawed the blueberries a bit, then treated the whole thing pretty much exactly as I did the apple crisp. I warmed the berries a bit in some butter and cinnamon. I did add two or three TBLS of arrowroot powder to the berries toward the end of that warming, as they'd made a lot of juice and I didn't want the final dish to be too runny. How was it? Perfect. I served it warm, in bowls of cool, slightly thickened (through a breif hand whipping) organic cream. My God. I don't think it gets more blissful than this.

Warm blueberry crisp sitting in a bowl of slightly whipped cream.

Cream is so pretty, isn't it? Even all alone. Like snow with fresh butter.

How It Went -- Seafood for Book CLubs

2008-04-18T12:28:00.003-05:00

1. I am giving up on Alton Brown's bean method. I love him, but this thing just never turns out the way I want it to. Who has a recipe they like?

2. The clam chowder went over really well. I wasn't that thrilled with it myself, but the crowd seemed rather wild for it. Again, I used frozen clams in the shell, and left out the pork.

3. The slaw was just fine. I followed the recipe, but had to drain it through a colander there was so much excess dressing.

4. No matter what anyone tells you when you're out shopping at the lovely little organic store for ingredients to make something wheat free for a guest and they don't have barley flour, do not substitute arrowroot powder for the barely flour! It does not work. Your cornbread will turn out like a brick. (Also, masa flour does not work for cornbread -- but that was my own fault. )I scrapped the cornbread altogether it turned out so badly (which is weird beyond measure, because I am an ace cornbread maker). I love Local Harvest, but sometimes they are missing the oddest items. Luckily Rebecca had some decent bread in the house!

5. OK, this apple crisp is to die for. My own recipe:

2 cups Trader Joe's Maple Pecan Granola
1 cup pecan meal (ground pecans)
1/2 cup dark brown sugar
1/2 cup turbino sugar
1 1/2 sticks unsalted butter + 4 Tablespoons, melted separately
2 Tablespoons cinnamon
2 Tablespoons arrowroot powder
a pinch of salt
8-10 apples (I used Granny Smiths and some little red ones from Local Harvest)

1. Cut the apples into slices.
2. Saute the apples in the 4 Tablespoons of butter and 1 Tablespoon of cinnamon until they're just turning soft; set aside.
3. Lightly toss together all the remaining ingredients, minus the butter.
4. Pour the butter over the granola mixture.
5. Slide the cooked apples into a large flat crock or pie pan.
6. Press the granola mixture on top of the apples, then sprinkle with a Tablesppon or so of turbino sugar.
7. Bake at 350 degrees for half and hour to forty minutes, until the apples bubble and the topping is brown.

I served it warm from the oven with heavy organic cream. It really was wonderful.

Report on making The Cake I Want to Marry.

2008-04-15T16:00:00.005-05:00

Hmm.

In my first attempt at making this cake love me back, the following faux pas were encountered:

1. 9-inch cake pan? I don’t think so. The batter totally filled it. I went ahead anyway, and of course a giant muffin was created that spilled over the top of the pan and needed to be baked an extra half an hour.

2. Natalia says, “With a brush wet the cake” with the coconut milk/condensed milk/rum mixture. That's it! No more detail than that! Natalia! Are you trying to drive me insane? Keep me away from my beloved Bienmasabe? Ai! What she doesn’t say is how long that brushing is going to take. You’ve got about two cups of liquid. I say it will take all day, at least. Maybe two. Unless you can stand there for several hours and do nothing else. Like that French rum cake that you have to brush the rum on day after day; let it soak in slowly. Cause if you do what I did -- just pour the liquid over the cake and then stick in the refrigerator – you’ll end up with a cake sitting in a puddle of very, very sweet liquid. The whole cake ends up to be quite cloyingly sweet this way, and too wet.

I was able to (more or less) solve this the next day, but too late for the party, by baking it again! I put it back in the oven for at least another half an hour. The liquid went into the cake (or the air) and the lovely, complex flavors of the Bienmasabe emerged.

Here’s what I’m going to do next time:

1. Use two 9-inch cake pans.
2. Leave time to slowly brush the cake with the liquid.
3. Beg Natalia to allow me watch her make this cake!

I’ll let you know.

Seafood for Book Clubs

2008-04-15T13:43:00.005-05:00

Serendipity. This month the Lafayette Literary Society (my neighborhood book club) is reading Ann Patchett’s Run, set in Boston (seafood!); Rebecca is hosting at her house, and I’m cooking. Sometimes the host will make an effort to coordinate the food with the book, sometimes not. I of course wildly prefer the coordinated version of book club dinners. I just love how it deepens the experience of the book, the connection to place, my feeling of connection to the characters. While the only food Patchett lets us see Run’s characters eating is peanut butter toast (though cereal, coffee, and tea are mentioned) it seems to me that there’s no harm in making a stab at the Boston thing, especially since there are a couple of defining, simple dishes: clam chowder and baked beans. (Ya, there’s Boston Cream Pie, too, but I’ve got a guest with wheat allergy and no real time to pull it off, so I’m going with apple crisp instead.)

Book club is tomorrow night, so I’m prepping. I’m going to so the Oyster House Clam Chowder, substituting arrowroot for wheat flour, and clams in the shell for clam juice and canned clams. Around Christmas I bought some frozen homogenized clams in the shell from a little vendor at the Soulard Market, did the trick I read about in Heat of tossing them into the fettuccini and cream and butter and wine at the last minute, and I’ll tell you something, it was divine. The idea is that when the clams open up they let go their juices, and those juices are the whole point, nearly, they’re so good. It seemed to work! So, I figure, why not do it for chowder?

For the beans I’m modifying Alton Brown’s Once and Future Beans, which I’ve made before. You let them cook all night long (or all day) in a slow oven. I’m going to switch it up a bit, though, leaving out the jalepenos, and using ketsup instead of tomato paste, olive oil instead of pork fat (weeping: vegetarians will be present).

For accompaniment, corn bread using arrowroot flour instead of wheat, and slaw. I'm worried about the arrowroot. The guy at Local Harvest suggested it, but I've only ever heard of it being used as a thickener. Come to think of it, I amy make a small pan of that and a larger one with regular flour, just in case. Again, the apple crisp for dessert. I’m pretty good at a crisp. I have a couple of tricks. I’ll let you know how the whole thing goes.

Nancy Thompson’s Grilled Salmon

2008-04-09T11:14:00.002-05:00

No story with this one. I got it out the hard copy "The Smith Family Cookbook." If anyone talks to Nancy can you please tell her that we'd love to have a little story to go with this one? All I can say is that it's hard to beat grilled salmon!

“An original recipe.”

Fresh salmon filets, cut into single serving-sized portions
Olive oil
Balsamic or white wine vinegar
White Worcestershire sauce
Seasoned salt lemon pepper

Wash the salmon fillets, leaving the outer skin on. Place them on a platter, and sprinkle with all the marinade ingredients. Let sit, in the refrigerator, for at least an hour.

While the salmon is marinating get the grill going. Set a serving platter to warming.

Grill over high heat, starting with the fish (non-skin) side down for 4 to 5 minutes, then carefully flipping the fillets to the skin side and grilling for another 6 minutes (this method retains the juices and makes the fish moister). Remove from the fill, remove the skin, and place the salmon on a warmed platter.
This salmon may be served with a variety of sauces, Fischer and Weiser’s roasted raspberry chipotle sauce being a good one.

Spicy Tilapia with Pineapple-Pepper Relish

2008-04-08T14:29:00.001-05:00

Our darling cousin Lisa sends this recipe from Cooking Light, saying:

The first time I had a sweet/spicy relish with talapia I adored every bite and thought about it for months until I had the opportunity to order it again. I have to admit that I have not attempted to make it from scratch at home- have to hone my fish-cooking skills, but I will definitely learn to cook this one, eventually, so that I can have it when I get a craving. This combination of sweet pineapple and hot pepper flakes is also scrumptious with coconut fried shrimp.

Fresh pineapple chunks, now widely available in supermarkets, speed the prep for this relish. Serve with coconut rice (substitute light coconut milk for some of the water to cook it). Round out menu with a romaine lettuce salad tossed with lime dressing.

Ingredients
2 teaspoons canola oil
1 teaspoon Cajun seasoning
1/4 teaspoon kosher salt
1/4 teaspoon ground red pepper
4 (6-ounce) tilapia fillets
1 1/2 cups chopped fresh pineapple chunks
1/3 cup chopped onion
1/3 cup chopped plum tomato
2 tablespoons rice vinegar
1 tablespoon chopped fresh cilantro
1 small jalapeño pepper, seeded and chopped
4 lime wedges

Preparation
Heat oil in a large nonstick skillet over medium-high heat. Combine Cajun seasoning, salt, and pepper in a small bowl. Sprinkle fish evenly with spice mixture. Add fish to pan, and cook for 2 minutes on each side or until fish flakes easily when tested with a fork or until desired degree of doneness.

Combine pineapple and next 5 ingredients (through jalapeño) in a large bowl, stirring gently. Serve pineapple mixture with fish. Garnish with lime wedges.

Yield
4 servings (serving size: 1 fillet, about 1/2 cup relish, and 1 lime wedge)

Kate Washington , Cooking Light, APRIL 2007

Rhubarb & Rose Bread Pudding with Vanilla Bean, Rose, and Rhubarb Coulis

2008-04-07T10:09:00.017-05:00

For Abby's Monthly Mingle, Spring Friut Sensations!

There's not a lot of fruit ready around St. Louis in the spring. But there will be rhubarb, soon. So, here's something else non-seafoody for spring. I made this a couple of years ago for my Brunch of Flowers, which I threw the day of the Lafayette Square House and Garden Tour. It went over with my guests spectacularly, even the one notorious very narrow eater. The barely (consciously) discernible flavor and aroma of rose is a stunningly perfect match for the rhubarb. I have a rhubarb plant in my garden this year, planted at a couple of years maturity. If it bears enough stalks to do this recipe, I will, and then I'll put up photos.

This based on a recipe by the French Gardener.

Pudding:
1 pound rhubarb
4 cups brioche, crusts removed and torn into chunks
2 cups good (non-ulta-pasteurized) cream
2 fresh eggs
2 fresh egg yolks
1 Tablespoon rose water

Sauce:
1 vanilla bean
Reserved rhubarb liquid
1/2 cup cream
2 egg yolks
1 teaspoon rose water
1 Tablespoon butter

The night before, chop the rhubarb into 1/4-inch chunks and toss with 1/2 cup sugar. Let this sit overnight. When you're ready to prepare the pudding, drain off the and reserve the liquid.

Chop the rhubarb further, into a medium-course texture.

Put the brioche chunks in a bowl and toss the rhubarb into it.

Combine the cream, eggs, egg yolks, remaining 3/4 cups of sugar, and 1 Tablespoon of the rose water. Pour the cream mixture over the bread and toss gently.

Pour into a buttered ceramic baking dish; set the first dish into a second, larger baking dish, pour hot water around into the larger dish.

Bake at 350 degrees for about an hour, until a knife inserted into the center comes out clean. Let cool until just warm.

Prepare the Sauce

Warm the cream. As the cream is warming, add the internal scrapings of the vanilla bean, and the rose water, then gently whisk in the egg yolk (be careful not to let it turn into a cooked egg dish).

Add the pat of butter and let it melt in as you whisk. Take a deep inhalation – the steam is probably smelling pretty divine right now; you deserve a bit of aroma therapy.

Stir until the sauce is the thickness you desire.

Put a ribbon of sauce on each plate, and set a serving of pudding upon the ribbon. Serve.

Organic rose petals, or really any organic edible flower makes a very nice garnish.

The Unnamed Italian Dish

2008-04-03T10:51:00.006-05:00

I can't remember what this is called! I've resorted to making it from memory.

This isn't seafood, but since Iron Stef requested the recipe I am happy to put it here -- it's the dish I took to the St. Louis Foodbloggers Potluck last Sunday (see Jonahtan's fantastic photos on this page). Thanks, Stef! Request away!

I used to have this darling, teensy little Italian cookbook. I don’t know where it went. But it had the most authentic recipes, and this is one of them. I don’t know for sure that I’ve remembered it all exactly, but it’s one of those dishes you can fudge on and adapt a bit without dire consequence. It’s pretty basic. I’d love to know what region of Italy it hails from, but I don’t remember that, either. I’ve been making to a good 20 years, though, and I never grow tired of it. I find it very comforting.

Essentially what you're doing here is making a filling of ricotta, spinach, parmesano-reggiono and cooked chicken livers; rolling it up in buckwheat pancakes; pouring a béchamel sauce over it; and baking it for an hour.

You’ll need a 3-quart baking dish, oiled or buttered.

For the Filling:

2 pounds ricotta cheese (use the best you can find)
1 pound organic chicken livers, cleaned of connective tissue
3 spring onions, finely chopped
2 pounds fresh spinach, washed, steamed, and chopped (frozen is OK, too)
Two eggs
½ cup grated parmesano-reggiono
Olive oil
½ teaspoon grated nutmeg (I grate my own)
Salt
Pepper

Sauté the onions in ¼ cup olive oil until the just begin to get transparent. Add the chicken livers and to cook medium well. Set aside to cool a bit. Once it’s cooled a bit, put the liver in a small, hard bowl and chop with a pastry cutter until they’re roughly chopped and slightly pulverized – but don’t turn them to mush. You want them to have some texture.

In a large bowl, toss together the ricotta, eggs, and parmesano; add the spinach, nutmeg, salt and pepper. Taste, and adjust the seasoning. Add the liver mixture, toss with your hands, and taste again for seasoning.

Let the bowl sit at room temp while you make the pancakes. Obviously if you have toddlers and it's going to take you two hours to make the pancakes between chasing them around making them dinner then refridgerate the mixture.

For the Pancakes:
Whole Foods 360 Organic Buckwheat pancake mix
Olive oil
Water
Eggs

Have your pancake skillet or griddle heating to medium high while you mix the batter. Also, heat the oven to 375 degrees.

Note: Big rolls will require 8-10 pancakes for the 3-quart dish. If you want smaller rolls adjust accordingly.

Make the pancakes according to the direction on the package, but double the eggs and double the water. It should be runny enough to spread easily around the pan. You can make larger or smaller pancakes, depending on how you prefer the finished dish to look and taste. I do it either way, depending on my mood. The ones I took to the potluck were very large, covering more than half of the bottom of a 12-inch non-stick skillet.

Stack the pancakes as you remove them from the pan in such a manner that each has a little channel to vent steam.

--> Now get your assembly line together. You’ll make the béchamel after you’ve assembled the rolls. From left to right, line up the pancakes, liver-cheese mixture, a board to roll on, and the baking pan. Unless you’re good at estimating volumes, you may want to use my method for uniformity of filling: lay the pancakes out in a line and distribute the filling evenly between them. Then roll them up and begin placing them gently in the pan, touching one another, but not squished together. It’s ok to leave a little room around the outside; it makes a nice repository for some béchamel. That done, do your sauce.

For the Béchamel Sauce:

4 tablespoons unsalted, cultured butter (you can use regular unsalted butter)
4 tablespoons unbleached white flour
2 cups half and half (organic or local -- just don’t use the ultra-pasteurized kind)
Quick grate of nutmeg
Salt and pepper

Heat the half-and-half over medium heat. You’re going to bring it almost to a boil.

Melt the butter in a large, heavy saucepan over medium heat until foaming.

Add the flour and whisk until smooth. Keep stirring with the whisk for a minute or two, to cook the floury taste out of the flour.

When the half-and-half is almost at a boil, pour it in a stream into the flour mixture, whisking all the while. Simmer and whisk over medium-low heat until it’s thickened to a custard consistency, stirring constantly, about 10 minutes.

Stir in nutmeg and salt. Season with ground pepper. Cool sauce slightly.

Pour the sauce over the rolls in the pan. There should be enough sauce to cover the rolls to ¾ of their height, and fill the gaps at the edges of the pan. Make sure to put some sauce directly over the top of the rolls, too.

Sprinkle the top with ¼ parmesano.

Oil enough foil to cover the pan, and set it loosely on top of the dish. Put the dish in the center of the oven and bake for half an hour. Remove the foil and bake for another 15 minutes. The sauce should be bubbling vigorously.

Cool for 15-20 minutes or so, and serve. A very fresh salad with and warm crusty bread goes well. For wine, I'd do sparkling (when wouldn't I?) or maybe a nice white Burgandy if you want depth, or a half-dry Reisling if you want a crisper counterpart.

Note: Everything I used in the dish for the potluck was organic, except the ricotta, which was local and hormone/antibiotic free, but not organic. For all of this I went to whole foods. The difference in the quality of the dairy products is huge.

Secret Shrimp Throw-Down!

2008-04-02T16:17:00.007-05:00

Once upon a time, my dad took me to a certain restaurant in a certain small town, Illinois, for my sixteenth birthday. This was a big deal. The restaurant had been “written up” in the New York Times, he was proud of saying, for the very dish we were going there to eat. They called it their House shrimp, and it was fantastic. Super-jumbo tiger shrimp or prawns -- in the shell -- lounging deep in a bowl of buttery, deeply tomato-and-spice sauce, with tons of crispy-soft bread for dipping. Ya gotta eat it all with your hands. It’s sublime. They bring you a big bib, a stack of cloth napkins, and a bowl of clear water to help clean yourself up as worked. I even remember what I wore that night. The only pink dress I ever owned. It was a very soft pink, crisp cotton, with eyelet lace on the shoulder straps and here and there. There’s no doubt that my dad managed to procure some wine for me (duh). This is one of my best memories of life with my dad. As everyone who has known me truly well knows, there was a lot of difficulty between my dad and I. And this makes every good memory precious, indeed. I think of him always when I make this dish. It was one of his all-time favorite, it’s a New Orleans-style dish, and he is the man, after all, who claims to have dated Ernest Hemmingway’s maid when he lived in the B.E.

This recipe was held secret for many, many years. We used to try to replicate it at home with varying degrees of success. Then, a good friend of mine married a line cook from that restaurant! And bingo! he told me how to make it. Now, I have no way of confirming this is the recipe ver batum. Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t. As it stands right now it’s just something this one guy told me one time. But as y’all know it’s become a tradition at the Smith Family Reunions whenever it’s my brother Bill’s and my turn to cook. It’s fast, simple, and fabulous. You really can’t screw it up.

However, you can mess it up a bit. There are tricks. My brother and I make this recipe differently, too. He had an odd experience that I think has ruined his judgment in the matter. Last year, after our father’s death (as I remember it) Bill decided to go to this nameless restaurant and have the shrimp. He’d never had it! I had no idea. My dad never took him there? I thought I remembered Bill being there with us on my birthday, but who knows. Memory is as unreliable as a cheap aluminum soup pot.

Anyway, they must have been out of the huge shrimp that night, and they served it to my bro out of the shell, over rice. What!!!!???!!!! Nu-uh. And what did he say? “It was good!” No it wasn’t! No one in their right mind eats The Secret Shrimp out of the shell over rice! Fogettaboutit [said in Cajun mafia accent]!

Does anyone ever listen to Car Talk on NPR? And you know how there are two brothers, the mechanics, and one of them always says at the end of the show, “… and whatever you do, don’t drive like my brother!” and the other replies, “No, don’t drive like MY brother!” Yet of course it’s obvious that they do love and respect one another, ya? *Well, this is the spirit in which I make this comparison between my version of this dish and my brother’s.

So now he thinks it’s ok to serve it that way. Not me. Not in a million years. And so I am giving you the “real” version, my version, the one you get when the chef is motivated enough to get the real ingredients, for Heaven’s sake.

And Bill? I challenge you to send me your instructions. We’ll see if a throw-down can ensue.

Secret House Shrimp

12 Super Colossal Tiger Prawns (6-8 per pound), deveined and left in the shell, thawed if bought frozen
4 jars Heinz Chili Sauce
1 pound salted butter
1 bunch fresh parsley, roughly chopped
1 Tablespoon chopped dried oregano
1 cup sweet vermouth

Put everything in a large, heavy pot, like a Dutch oven. Turn the heat on low. Let the whole thing simmer relatively undisturbed until the shrimp are cooked through and the sauce is quite hot, but not boiling. Serve in bowls with a good French bread for dipping.

TIPS: Warnings toward the avoidance mistakes (*made by my brother, though he doesn’t know it):

1. Do not boil the sauce! You don't want it to emulsify!

2. Let it all cool significantly before serving. This means, from piping hot (but not boiling) cool it 20-30 minutes. The shrimp will hold onto a lot of heat, especially if they're big. Of course you don’t want it to be cold, but the shrimp need to be almost room temp so they can be handled easily.

Making sure that you follow the above Tips 1 & 2 will have this magical effect: The butter will stay to more or less separate from the tomato sauce, almost, and it will be clear. This makes for a marvelously varied dipping adventure, and your bread swaths through the degrees and ratios and combinations of butter, chili, herbs, and combinations thereof.

There now. The challenge is set. Bill? :-)

St. Louis Food Bloggers Potluck

2008-04-01T22:00:00.008-05:00

These wonderful professional photos from the Food Bloggers Potluck were taken by Jonathan Pollack, the spouse of Stef from Cupcake Project. Go check them both out. If you type the word "FOODBLOG" into the little field at the bottom of Jonathan's home page you can see lotso' photos from the potluck!

Check out the ooing and ahing expressions on these faces!

The cake I want to marry.

Kelly and I listening, perhaps.

Me, eating mine.

Close up of my dish. Chicken livers, white sauce. Nirvana.

What's a Food Blogger's Potluck? Well, maybe it's something like a Teddy Bears Picnic! A lotsa fun! I fell in love with a coconut cake by Natalia. She has a restaurant in downtown St. Louis, and I can see why because this cake is just, I don't know how to say it. I want to marry it. Those were the only words I could think of while I was eating it there. Natalia has a recipe on her web site! Go get it! It's like a drunken heaven in the tropics, only in wedding lace.

Kelly was there with her mac&cheese, which was of course super-yum. There are she and I, apparently listening intently to a nice young woman who's name I cannot recall, but my hands are certainly blurring around the wine, now aren't they? Action, anyone?

I took the Italian blini-like dish (as Alanna tells me), which is the thing I am slicing here, and of which you can see a close-up. There were rather more vegetarians than I expected at a foodie event, so next time I'll take something meatless.

Ah, Goodbye March

2008-03-27T18:12:00.007-05:00

I know. More or less I took February off. And most of March. My Papaw's departure sort of took the wind out of my writing sails, if you will, but things are leveling out now and the bees and back in the hive. And if you can straighten out that pastiche à la métaphore I'll make you one for dinner.

So, it's been kind of roasted meat weather around here. But I haven't really roasted a meat this month, as my day job is impossible and is requiring that I work absurde hours for no good reason and I haven't much of a life on account of it. One hates to complain when apparently we're entering the Second Great Depression or at least mini-D, but then it's not my job here to complain, I do that on another blog and here I am really to enliven you with deliciousness, aren't I? So let's just be grateful for employment and -- oh, by the way, my friend Kelly, another fabulous St. Louis food blogger, is starting as a cook's assistant at Kitchen Conservatory. She makes a wonderful blog, and is pretty mean at cutting up a lobster, too. Though not mean enough to drop it in the pot, oddly. I had no problem with it. This is not what was expected.

So, in honor of Kelly's burgeoning foodie career, I am referring you, my darling monkeys, to Kelly's page for a lovely Quick Cassoulet, complete with roasted chicken, and thus our meat for the last few days of March is presented. Thank you Kelly.

For April, though we haven't Easter in that month this year, we shall still have cupcakes. And, hey, why not send the recipes you liked this Easter? I made an asparagus casserole that I rather loved. I will post it. In the meantime, thank you for tolerating my completely ignorant attempts at French, and for being away, and for all other follies I surely must have enacted upon you, My Loves.

Adieu, je reste --

Margaret

Free Rice in Honor of Our Papaw

2008-02-20T12:09:00.011-06:00

Our Papaw passed away at home with his loved ones around him on February 6, at 5:05 PM, having reached the fabulous age of 98. He was a wonderful man, a true gentleman. He taught us love and respect and acceptance and how to enjoy a good meal and to thank the cook properly every single time without fail.

In honor of his passing, this month I am posting a link to the charitable organization, Free Rice. Go there, look at the word, chose its correct synonym, and Voilà! they will donate 20 grains of rice -- for each word you synonymize correctly. Yes. 20 grains. It adds up, OK? Cool too that it looks like their ap tracks your vocabulary level and feeds you appropriately difficult or easy words while it keeps a running count of the grains of rice you've donated, as well.

http://www.freerice.com/

Later on, when we're all healed up a little, I hope to make a whole month of Papaw Favorites here. Maybe next February, or even January, which is his birthday month. Anyway, right now I don't quite know what else to do. I don't have the heart to send out a call to all the relatives for recipes. So here it is. Papaw loved words, and food, and was a good, solid Democrat who believed that giving up a little of what one has to make others' lives better was just the right thing to do. As a matter of fact, shortly before he died he voted (absentee) to increase the sales tax in his town so that the kids could have more funds for the city swimming pool. I know he would be all for sharing some rice by playing an educational word game.

January, Comfy Casseroles for All

2008-02-01T07:47:00.000-06:00

Casseroles. Cheryl's idea. Perfect. Warming, comfy, traditional casseroles for January. I want to make one every day, had I only the time. But send in your favorites, boys and girls, and let's see if we can call upon the the Muse of One Dish Sublimity to help us, at least a time or two this month, comfort our loved ones and one another over the miles. Kisses to you all for the new year. --M

January Casserole Contents:

1. Our Mothers' Meat Pie -- from Margaret
2. Cindy Sends Several -- Cindy
3. Hungry Man's Linguini -- Young Frank (out of context but our first non-family post so I'm going for it!)
4. Cindy's Several More -- Baked Ziti, Good Old Tuna/Chicken Noodle Casserole, Three Cheese Pasta Bake
5. A Pennsylvania Mom's Roast Beef Casserole -- Young Frank

A Pennsylvania Mom's Roast Beef Casserole

2008-01-29T07:25:00.000-06:00

I have another very simple casserole dish I wanted to share. This was my mother's Roast Beef Casserole that we ate for years. Just a few basic ingredients that can be combined and improvised as to one's taste.

1. Take enough rice for 6 – 8 servings, any rice, she used long grain wild rice. Set that boiling away.

2. Take (2) cups of cubed roast beef and put in a pan, with butter or oil and brown. You can add chopped onions for flavor.

3. Steam about two cups of peas, cut carrots, and corn kernels.

4. When everything is cooked, combine into a casserole dish and mix together.

5. Once mixed, top with one can of cream or celery soup or Parmesan cheese and bake for 20 minutes, then it’s ready to serve.

Hope you enjoy,

Young Frank

Cindy's Several More

2008-01-18T19:08:00.000-06:00

Baked Ziti

1 (16 oz) box of ziti pasta
1/2 medium onion, chopped
1 T olive oil
2 garlic cloves, minced
1 lb lean ground beef
1 (26 ox) jar tomato and basil pasta sauce
3/4 t salt, divided
3 T butter
3 T all purpose flour
3 cup milk
1 cup grated Parmesan cheese
1/2 t pepper
1 (8 oz) package of shredded mozzarella cheese

1. Cook pasta in a large Dutch oven or pot according to packagedirections. Drain and return to Dutch oven.
2. Meanwhile, saute chopped onion in hot oil in a large skilletover medium-high heat 5 minutes or until tender.
3. Add garlic, and saute 1 minute.
4. Add beef, and cook, stirring until beef crumbles and is no longer pink.
5. Drain beef mixture, and return to pan. Stir in pasta sauce and 1/2 t salt. Set aside. [Margaret's Note: It is my opinion. and my mother's too, by the way, that any ground beef sauce is vastly improved by simmering over a low heat for an hour or two; the value of this practice cannot be overemphasized).
6. Melt butter in a heavy saucepan over low heat; whisk in flouruntil smooth. Cook, whisking constantly, 1 minute.
7. Gradually whisk in the milk; cook over medium heat, whisking constantly, until the mixture is thickened and bubbles.8. Stir in the Parmesan cheese, the remaining 1/4 t salt, and the pepper.
9. Pour sauce over the pasta in your Dutch oven, stirring until the pasta is evenly coated.10. Transfer the pasta mixture to a lightly greased 13 X 9 in baking dish.
11. Top evenly with beef mixture; sprinkle evenly with mozzarella cheese.
12. Bake at 350 degrees F for 20 to 25 minutes or until the mozzarella is melted.
13. Remove the casserole from the oven and let stand 10 minutes before serving.

Serves 8 - 10.

Good Old Tuna/Chicken Noodle Casserole

1 can (10 3/4 oz) cream of mushroom soup (you can use eitherregular or the fat free)
1/2 cup milk
1 cup frozen peas
2 cans drained canned tuna or chicken (you can always useleftover chicken or even turkey instead of the canned)
2 cup hot, cooked medium egg noodles
2 T dry bread crumbs
1 T butter, melted

1. Stir soup, milk, peas, tuna/chicken, and noodles in 1 1/2 qtcasserole dish.
2. Bake at 450 degrees F for 20 min or until hot.
3. Stir.4. Mix bread crumbs with the melted butter in a cup and sprinkle over the mixture.
5. Bake for 5 additional minutes or until golden brown.

Serves 4.

Three Cheese Pasta Bake

1 bag (16 oz) ziti (you can also use penne or rigatoni)
2 10 oz containers of refrigerated Alfredo sauce (if you areambitious enough you can always make your own)
1 (8 oz) container sour cream
1 (15 oz) container ricotta cheese
2 large eggs, lightly beaten1/4 cup grated Parmesan cheese
1/4 cup chopped fresh parsley
1 1/2 cup mozzarella cheese

1. Prepare pasta according to package directions, drain and returnto pot.
2. Stir together Alfredo sauce and sour cream; toss with pastauntil evenly coated.
3. Spoon half of the mixture into a lightly greased 10 X 9 in bakingdish.
4. Stir together ricotta cheese and next 3 ingredients; spreadevenly over pasta mixture in baking dish.
5. Spoon remaining pasta mixture evenly over ricotta cheese layer;sprinkle evenly with mozzarella cheese.
6. Bake at 350 degrees F for 30 minutes or until bubbly.

Serves 8 - 10.

That is it for now. You can use any, all or none of them. You dowhat is best.

Love you and hope to see you soon,
Cindy

Cindy Sends Several

2008-01-15T08:02:00.000-06:00

Our esteemed Nashville contingent, Ms. Cindy, has sent several yummywarm casserole recipes, and they will all of course appear here as shortly as I can manage it. Which may not be as shortly as I usually do due to the insaneness of my day job at present. Anybody out there want to pay me to do this full time? I'm as available as an alley cat.

In my posting madness I shall first give Cindy's crab offering, because it sounds so good and because I find the story she provided with it highly amusing, disjointedly. See, she's sent one story for the several casseroles, not specifying which casserole the story belongs to, so I get to take my pick! I pick crab!

Best Darn Crab Casserole Ever

My best friend on the planet, my mom, made this dish during the fall and winter months in Rolla, Missouri when it was just her, Danny and I at home. We didn't have much we had each other. I have so many good memories of those days, all the good times growing up, and this casserole always takes me right into those feelings of comfort and home.

1/2 ( 6 1/2 oz) can of crabmeat, drained (don't skimp on this and don't use fake crabmeat!)
1 cup mayo
1 cup soft bread crumbs, plus 1/2 cup buttered soft bread crumbs
3/4 cup half-and-half
6 hard boiled eggs, diced
1 cup chopped onion
1/2 cup sliced stuffed green olives, plus extra for garnish
1/2 cup chopped fresh parsley leaves
3/4 t salt
Pinch of pepper

1. Preheat over to 350 degrees F
2. In a large bowl, break the crabmeat into chunks.
3. Add the mayo,1c of the soft bread crumbs, half-and-half, eggs, onion, olives, parsley, salt and pepper; fold together.
4. Divide the mixture among greased individual ramekins or spoon itinto a 1 qt casserole dish. 5. Top with buttered crumbs
6. Bake for 20 to 25 minutes.
7. Garnish with olive slices.

Serves 4-6.

Hungry Man's Linguini

2008-01-14T08:41:00.000-06:00

Ok, so here it is, our first non-family submission! Let us consider this a great advance toward fame and fortune, for it is direct evidence that someone other than ourselves is reading and -- yea, participating in our endeavor. Ok, so ya, it's someone I know and all that but, I mean, so, like, still...um, right? It's good!?! And he promises from now on to send in posts that are actually in the theme on the month. Why deny our first non-family applicant, then? When we are heartfully soliciting wildly profuse readership? We shan't. Besides, this particular imperial We is pleased that this submission comes in the form of a story -- for while the rest of Us are pretty good and getting a few recipes sent in to Us, We are still struggling with the story part, now aren't We, Dears? And so:

Hungry Man's Linguine

I would like to share with you and your readers my adventures in the kitchen with a modified version of one of the recipes you shared with me. I know that this month’s theme is casseroles, but I figured that they wouldn’t mind a little deviation in the spirit of good food. Now I must preface this by admitting that I am no expert in the art of cuisine, in fact I am quite the amateur. I also used ingredients found in my humble bachelor refrigerator. The ingredients I used could easily be substituted or improved upon by others as they felt necessary. Now that I have exhausted the excuses and disclaimers I will tell you what I’ve created.

I call it the “hungry man’s” linguine. The portions can be varied depending upon the number of servings. I used a box of linguine noodles that can be purchased at any market and added to a large pot of water and set them it to boil; adding enough salt to the water for flavor and just a bit of olive oil to prevent sticking. While that is boiling I put two pounds of ground chicken in a pan to brown. Chicken was used because of its low oil content, and so as not to overpower the rest of the ingredients. I chopped a whole onion into very small pieces, and sautéed them. While the meat is cooking, I added salt, pepper, oregano, and garlic. Your readers could use additional spices to season as their taste’s desire, but shouldn’t over power the meat. Once the noodles have boiled, they where drained, and then put back in the pot at low heat. To them I added a pint of heavy cream, a can of cream chicken, and approximately one cup of powdered Parmesan cheese. These are mixed together until all the noodles are coated.

Once the noodles are coated, slowly add the fully cooked meat. Stir constantly until everything is coated with the cheese and sauce mixture. I let this continue to simmer for about five more minutes until the sauce was not liquid anymore. After that it is served, or in my case it was put into containers and saved for lunches and dinners for several days. This made between four to five healthy servings. I also added some string beans as a side but any green vegetable would be just as good.

The total cooking time was about 30 minutes, probably due to my inexperience. The time is probably only limited by the noodles and the cooking of the meat, everything else should be fairly quick. I really enjoyed it, and I hope that you would share this on your blog. Next time I’ll try and stay within the boundaries of the current month’s discussion. I really enjoy what I’ve read so far, and will continue to try out your recipes.

Thanks for getting me started,

Young Frank

Our Mothers' Meat Pie

2008-01-05T13:37:00.000-06:00

+NOTE: I talked to my mother over the weekend, and she tells me that she and one of her sisters had already decided (prior to this post) to have this dish for Papaw's 98th birthday meal. I just think that's really sweet and fitting. Happy 98th birthday, Papaw! Only two more till you're 100! Hand on, I know you can do it.

This is my very favorite in all the world comfort food one dish casserole meal. This dish of my mom’s has a biscuit crust baked on top of a browned ground beef and vegetable mixture, with a little salt and pepper. That’s it. The secret is to cook the beef on the stove top for an hour or so, keeping it covered with water, to tenderize it. Over lo these many years I have tried various enhancements to the recipe, but as soon as any other ingredient is added it’s not the same dish. So I leave it alone. No tomatoes, no cheese, no mushrooms. I like a little hot pepper sauce on it after it’s on my plate. And I tell you, I love this dish so much that I can only make it when there are plenty of hands and mouths to help me eat it. Otherwise I will overeat, stuff myself, eat half the casserole in one sitting, the other half for breakfast in the morning. It tastes to me of all my wishes and dreams of a mother’s love, of the memories of my mommy holding me “like a baby,” back before I was “too big” to be help that way anymore, that feeling of being encompassed and nurtured and loved for no good reason whatsoever. Even against all odds. Maybe that’s how I’ll know when I have finally come to a fulfilled heart: I will be able to eat just one serving of My Mother’s Meat Pie, then stop. I've called this "Our" Mothers' Meat Pie, because my mother and my aunts' and uncle's mother both made it. And if you are my cousin you can tell me if your mother and father made it. I would really like to know.

Our Mother’s Meat Pie

One pound of good ground beef *
One bag of frozen mixed vegetables, rinsed in a colander and drained a bit
Water
Salt and pepper
Bisquick or your favorite short biscuit recipe

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.

1. In a large Dutch oven or other heavy, deep skillet, brown the ground beef over medium heat. Make sure it stays soft – don’t let it get crispy. If the beef is too lean to get a good sizzle going add some olive oil or butter.

2. Add water to twice the depth of the meat and simmer on medium for an hour, checking frequently to make sure it doesn’t dry out. Keep a kettle of water steaming on the stove to add as you need it.

3. In the last few minutes before the beef’s cooking time is up allow the water to reduce, but leave enough to make sure that there is a nice gravy in the bottom of the dish after is comes out of the oven.

4. Add the vegetables. Cook for a few minutes, letting the vegetable thaw and warm.

5. Turn the heat to low.

6. Prepare your biscuit batter.

7. Turn off the heat under your pan.

8. Spoon the biscuit batter over the meat mixture, and spread it out a bit. Don’t worry about getting it too even, part of the charm of the dish is its peasant look.

9. Put in center of the preheated oven until the biscuits are browned. This will take longer than if you were cooking the biscuits by themselves, maybe twice as long. Just keep an eye on them.

10. Remove from the oven, let cool for 10 minutes, then serve. Mashed potatoes and a crisp lettuce salad make perfect accompaniments. A beer, or a light red wine won’t hurt, either.

*I like to use a combination of very lean and medium lean cuts; if it’s too lean the dish will be too dry** The basic ones: peas, carrots, potatoes, green beans, maybe lima beans in there, but stay away from broccoli or any of the more exotic mixes.

Mamaw, says my Mom, served these with the mashed potatoes, as did she. This is a great combination, and you’ll love the meat and gravy mixed in with your potatoes, as you’ll love the sticky bottoms of the biscuits and how they combine with the gravy to make this really sublime combination of flavors -- even though all this is going a bit heavy on the starches, obviously, given the already wondrous presence of the biscuit topping, but it’s worth it, just as having foi gras and caviar on top of your steak is worth it, so just keep a stiff upper lip and dig in. Eat fruit and fish for a few says after if you want to counteract the effects.

Further notes on the etymology of “casserole.”

Is My Mother’s Meat Pie a true casserole? I found myself wondering. Which lead me to wonder: what is a casserole? Really?

So off I went to the web – finding what Wikipedia says (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Casserole):

Casserole
In cooking a casserole, from the French for "sauce pan,"[1] is a large, deep pot or dish used both in the oven and as a serving dish.

The word casserole is also used for the food cooked and served in such a dish. These foods usually consist of meat and/or vegetables and sometimes bulked with pasta, potato, rice or other grains cooked slowly in sauce or other liquid, and may be served as a main course or a side dish.

What I like about this is the Frenchness of the whole thing. And of course, mon amis, casserole is a French word. What is French for “duh?”

Casseroles originate from the ancient practice of stewing meat slowly in earthenware containers. Types of casserole include ragout, hotpot, cassoulet and carbonnade. A distinction may be made between casseroles and stews: stewing is a cooking process whereby heat is applied to the bottom of the cooking vessel (typically over a fire or on a hob), whereas casseroling in done in an oven where heat circulates all round the cooking vessel.

One could argue in either direction the continental flavor or none of this really simple, really Anglo-Americanized dish. In reality, I suppose, if it’s not Native American or Asian or African or Aboriginal or a hybrid this by default is European, right? I mean, where did we get our recipes, from Space Aliens?

Bon Appettite.

December Contents: Cookies, Hot Toddies, Syllabub!

2007-12-31T15:42:00.000-06:00

1. Cookies, Hot Toddies, Syllabub! -- Margaret
2. The History of the Syllabub, and a Tudor Recipe -- Margaret
3. Hot Toddie from Lisa: Minted Mocha Hot Chocolate for Grown-Ups -- Cousin Lisa
4. Sugar Cookies That Work, With Four Variations -- Aunt Janey, Aunt Nancy, Margaret
5. London Fog -- The Wilbois' Traditional Christmas Eve Party Drink -- Kristy
6. Evelyn's Honey Bars & An Excellent Hot Chocolate Mix -- Aunt Janey
7. "The Recipe" from Our Mamaw, and Jam Thumbprints -- Margaret and Nancy
8. Updated Magic Bars with Ginger and Dark Chocolate -- Margaret
9. Cheryl's Hot Mulled Wine -- Cheryl

Cheryl's Sugar Cookie Icing (Plus)

2007-12-21T12:49:00.000-06:00

Nothing says the holidays more than taking three evenings to make one type of cookie, but I like to spread the work out so I'm not standing all night. This iced sugar cookie and recipe is everyone's favorite. I make other kinds, but this is the one I'm demanded to make by family and friends, especially by Kyle who won't let me make anything else for his class and parties. I have lots of cookie cutter shapes for the each of the holidays, because a I think variety on the plate looks festive. And although there's an extra step in this cookie method (freezing the dough over night), it all goes fast once you get the hang of it.

Here's how I do it:

Day 1. I make I make Mamaw's sugar cookie dough and freeze it overnight (freezing makes it less sticky and much easier to roll it out really thin, tomorrow).

Day 2. The next night, I roll the cookies very, very thinly and wafery and bake them so they're still dough-colored, barely browned (so watch them carefully).

Day 3. I ice the cookies.

Cheryl's Sugar Cookie Icing
3 cups confectioners sugar
3 tablespoons butter (melted and hot)
1 1/2 tsps flavoring extract (vanilla, lemon, orange, etc.)
Food coloring as directed below
Approximately 6-7 tsps of milk

1. In large bowl, sift confectioner's sugar.
2. Mix in very hot melted butter.
3. Stir in the extract.
4. Add food coloring.*
5. Add the milk 1-2 tsps at a time while stirring with a spoon, and mix until it's thick enough to coat a cookie, excess can drip off, but not run off like water!

NOTE: Extract and food coloring will thin the icing, so for every few drops, you need one less tsp. of milk to thin it. Too thin and the icing will turn speckle-y when it cools.

6. Place cookies one at a time upside down in bowl on top of icing. Remove and let excess drip off.
7. Place icing side up on cookie sheet and refrigerate overnight. Once hardened, transfer to air-tight tin.

*If making multiple colors of icing, separate the icing into equal amounts into wide bowls. Add the different food colorings to each bowl and blend until you have the color you want.

The icing isn't only for Christmas. Depending on the holiday, I use different food coloring and flavoring:
Easter = Lemon extract and an assortment of light pastels (just 2-3 drops of yellow/green/blue/red)
Thanksgiving & Halloween = Orange extract and orange food black, browns and purples.
Valentine's day = red and vanilla; I've even made purple hearts for Memorial Day.
Christmas = Vanilla with 3 colors: red, green and white.

To make the colors darker and richer, I mix them like this:
Green = 2 drops of red for every 6 drops of green to make a rich forest green
Red = 2 drops of green for every 6 drops of red makes cranberry
White = The vanilla extract colors it a rich ivory color

Cheryl's Hot Mulled Wine

2007-12-18T13:54:00.000-06:00

Here is a drink that makes me feel warm and cozy inside, and always reminds me of Christmas. A friend of mine introduced me to this, oh, about 10 years ago at a Christmas party. She's from England and apparently this is a yuletide staple there. Later this friend gave me a spice mix to add to the warmed wine, but after some experimentation I came up with this version, my very own Mulled Spiced Wine. Funny thing is, after all those years, she and I went through our separations and divorces at the same time. Now we have become great friends. As have our exes.

In a pot on the stove, or in a crock pot, pour a magnum of merlot or cabernet, and warm on med/low.

Add:
1/4 tsp. nutmeg*
1 tsp cinnamon*
1/4 tsp cloves* (or more or less to your taste)Orange or clementine rinds (optional)
1/4 teaspoon vanilla

Warm (remember, don't boil it or you'll lose the kick when the alcohol evaporates out) and serve with a ladle. Mmmm....

*Spices may be loose or put it in a tea strainer [or cheese clothe]. If you put them in loose be sure to strain the liquid before serving.

21st Century Magic Bars, with Ginger and Dark Chocolate

2007-12-15T14:14:00.000-06:00

The gingeriness of these irresistible bars makes them taste really Christmasy to me!

I love Magic Bars but I always feel like I’ve overdone it after eating them. I don’t remember, even, anyone in the family ever making them. Maybe that’s why. Maybe they are a little over the top for the Methodist sensibility (though anyone who knows me knows that I don't suffer much from that malady, myself). But with the recipe below I think I’ve managed to bring the traditional Magic Bars into the 21st century, and it came about through my effort to do something with those failed butter/sugar cookies (from the random recipe) that turned out like rocks. I mean really, how can one just through away the 2 ½ sticks of butter it took to make them? In a nutshell (so to speak), I crumbed the cookies in the blender and used them to replace the graham crackers in the traditional recipe. This version is not nearly so cloyingly sweet as the original, and the bite of the ginger takes it yet further to the side of decadence without toothache.

Magic Bars with Candied Ginger and Dark Chocolate

Ingredients
1 1/2 cups cookie crumbs (you can use graham crackers here, or crumb some butter/sugar cookies)
1 Tablespoon ground ginger
1/2 cup (1 stick) butter, melted
1 1/3 cups sweetened flaked coconut, halved
1/3 cup candied ginger bits
1 (14-ounce) can sweetened condensed milk (NOT evaporated milk)
1 cup chopped pecans

For Ganache
1 pound dark chocolate, broken up into chunks (the better the chocolate, the better the dish)
¾ cup heavy cream

Method
Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

1. With a whisk, combine the ground ginger with the crumbs.
2. Add the candied ginger.
3. Add half of the coconut.
4. Pour the melted butter over the crumb mixture, and toss.
5. Press firmly into a square brownie pan.
6. Pour the sweetened condensed milk over the pressed crumbs.
7. Top with the remaining coconut and press down with fork to compact.
8. Bake for 20-25 minutes, until lightly browned.

Ganache:
9. While the baked part is cooling slightly, put the chocolate chunks in a heat-proof bowl.
10. Boil the cream.
11. Pour the boiling cream over the chocolate and let it sit, undisturbed, for five minutes.
12. Whisk the warm mixture until it is homogeneous.
13. Pour it over the baked crumb part.
14. Chill in the refrigerator for an hour, then remove and cut into squares.

Yum! Yum! Yum! Yum! Yum! Yum! Yum! Yum! Yum! Yum! Yum! Yum! Yum! Yum!

"The Recipe" from Our Mamaw, and Jam Thumbprints

2007-12-12T09:10:00.000-06:00

I'll get to the cookies on the right in a sec. First, "The Recipe." This is the coolest story, and we totally have to have this as a "syllabub" option this holiday. Here's how my mom tells it: Aunt Janey was cleaning out the downstairs freezer at the Smith Estate (smile), and in it she ran across a peanut butter jar labled, in masking tape, with the simple moniker: "The Recipe." Apparenlty all three sisters were in attendence at the house, and with a little reflection it hit them what this was.

Mamaw, "Mother" to them, had when she was living of course belonged to the Desk & Derrek Club, an organization for women who work in the oil industry. The Club had conventions, as clubs tend to do, and Mamaw's friend Ola Chapman every year brought "The Recipe" as her contribution to the refreshment table. Mamaw brought frozen strawberry daquiries. Sounds like rather a lively convention of ladies, no?

At any rate, of course, Mamaw has been gone a while, and my own mother says that the best they could figure it was at least 10 years before her death that she'd attended a Desk & Derrek convention, as she had natuarally been retired for some time. Nonetheless, the sisters opened the peanut butter jar with its Masonic-secret sounding label and toasted their departed mother with its contents, "The Recipe." It was quite fine. They could not, however, find the recipe for The Recipe.

But not to despair. Ola Chapman is still living, and quite present in my mother's weekly bridge club. Ola filled my mother's request for the recipe, and so we have it here. I think you'll agree, The Recipe sounds fantastic. As a holiday syllubub I can't see that it can miss. I beleive that we should honor Mamaw, her long working life, and the little-seen fun loving side of her that would, according, again, to my mother, most years bring home a jar such as this filled with this drink and in the evening walk a few steps through the kitchen while prepairing dinner for "just a spoonful" of The Recipe. Cheers, Mamaw.

The Recipe

1 12 oz. can frozen lemonaide
1 12 oz. can frozen limeaide
2 10 oz. bottles of Squirt
1 quart ginger ale
1 quart whiskey

Mix in an air tight container, then transfer to the freezer. Don't thaw -- just serve it directly from the freezer.

____________________

On another subject, just a quick note about these delicious little jam thumbprint cookies. I've adapted Ina Garten's recipe for the ones pictured. Essentially, it's the same. But I added an egg (this might not be necessary, but I was having trouble that day getting the dough to come together), made them smaller than hers, and used lingonberry jam. I love the little sheen and very, very slight crispness the egg wash gives them. Making them small like this means that each one is a single bite, and so each bite has jam in it! The lingonberries of course are a nod to Scandinavia, which is forever in my mind as the most beautiful place to spend Christmas in the entire world (besides, other than grape it was the only jam or jelly I had on hand!).

Jam Thumbprints
adapted from Ina Garten

3/4 pound (3 sticks) unsalted butter, at room temperature
1 cup sugar
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract (I use the preserved vanilla bean paste)
3 1/2 cups flour
1/4 teaspoon kosher salt
1 large egg
1 egg beaten with 1 tablespoon water, for egg wash
7 ounces sweetened flaked coconut
Lingonberry jam

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees F.
2. Cream together the butter and sugar until just combined, and then add the vanilla.
3. Separately, sift together the flour and salt.
4. With the mixer on low speed, add the flour mixture to the creamed butter and sugar.
5. Add the egg. Mix until the dough starts to come together.
6. Dump on a floured board and roll together into a flat disk.
7. Wrap in plastic wrap and chill for 30 minutes.
8. Roll the dough into 1-inch balls (I used a teaspoon to measure them out).
9. Dip each ball into the egg wash and then roll it in coconut.
10. Place the balls on an parchment lined cookie sheet and press a light indentation into the top of each with your finger.
11. Drop just enough jam into each indentation to fill it.
12. Bake for 20 to 25 minutes, until the coconut is a golden brown.
13. Cool and serve.

Evelyn's Honey Bars & A Homemade Hot Chocolate Mix

2007-12-12T08:59:00.000-06:00

Long time friends of ours, Evelyn and Paul Bostick, had a B & B in a small town outside of Waco, Texas, Clifton,in the central Texas hill country. She is an excellent cook and this was one of her very quick and unusual cookie recipes. Clifton is the Norwegian Capital of Texas - they have great annual festivals there. Clifton also has been recognized as one of the top 100 small art communities in the nation on several occasions. Think you would like it, Margaret. Small college town.

No, John and I didn't make it to their B& B. They both were corporate or medical people - wanted to get out of the hustle and bustle of the DFW area so bought the B& B. However, they found it tied them down and so sold it. Paul had continued to work for the health insurance, etc. Back to the recipe. Paul and Evelyn are Methodist, we became friends, enjoyed going to a Cowboys game or two and exchanging recipes. They live several hours from us so we don't get to see them too much. Just good folks. She would often bring these cookies to potlucks (we Methodists love to do potlucks, of course), and this is her most requested recipe. I truly don't know where it came from originally, but sure is good. I just pulled a batch out of the oven. A quick 15 minute or less preparation -- and it bakes in 20.

Evelyn's Honey Bars

Mix together:

1 cup sugar
3/4 cup cooking oil
1/4 cup honey

Mix together and add to oil mixture:

3 cups sifted flour
1/4 tsp. salt
1 tsp. baking soda
1 tsp. cinnamon

Add:

1 egg, beaten
1 cup chopped nuts (walnuts seem to be the best)
Press dough into a cookie sheet with sides.

Bake at 325 for 20 minutes and glaze while hot.

Glaze:

Thoroughly mix:

1 cup powdered sugar
1/2 teaspoon vanilla
2 Tablespoon mayonnaise (not Miracle Whip)
1 Tablespoon water

And there is an good hot chocolate mix that can be made up and kept on hand:

3 Cups powdered milk
3/4 Cup good cocoa
3/4 cup fine sugar

Stir thoroughly.

Mix 4 Tablespoons with 8 oz.. of hot water and enjoy.

London Fog -- The Wilbois' Traditional Christmas Eve Party Drink

2007-12-12T07:16:00.000-06:00

London Fog

Ingredients:
1 gallon of vanilla ice cream
2 cups of gin
½ cup of cream of sherry

Blend all the ingredients thoroughly with mixer or immersion blender, then put it in an air tight container and back into the freezer for at least an hour. Remove it from the freezer 40 minutes before serving to let it soften up.

You can always mix in more ice cream if it is too strong for your taste (or visa versa).

Kristy's Story: This drink has been the house drink every year at my mother’s annual Christmas Eve open house party. It was always a big hit and people would look forward to having it each year. It packs a powerful punch, so be careful! One year my sister was in town from Minnesota. It was Christmas Eve and we would make an enormous amount of London Fog to accommodate all of the guests. We would put the buckets of it out on the back porch to keep them cold because we wouldn’t have enough room in the freezer. This particular Christmas my sister’s schnauzer, Ashley, was let outside to do her business. She evidently, however, got into our business!

Somehow, apparently, she got the lid off of one of the containers of London Fog, and, unbeknownst to us, decided to help herself to the holiday cheer! When we let her in later, we noticed she was behaving very oddly. She was running into things and acting quite “out of it.” She tried to go down some stairs but her front paws were glued to the floor and she lifted her back legs up in the air trying to move-- she was doing a hand-stand (or paw-stand)! When we went to get the London Fog from the porch we saw that over a cup was missing, explaining the dog’s behavior. Most of us thought it was hysterical, but my sister didn’t see it that way. She thought Bill and I intentionally got her dog drunk! Poor dog, the whole next day she didn’t even move!

The sad part of it is that my sister and her family moved to Florida and Ashley was eaten by an Alligator. It lived in the pond very close to their house. I guess Ashely is one of those dogs who would have been better off staying inside.

Sugar Cookies That Work, with Four Variations

2007-12-11T09:52:00.000-06:00

Here is my mom's favorite sugar cookie recipe. If it's the one I think it is (and I'll tell you on Monday), it will make perfect cookie-cutter cookies. I needed this recipe badly, since my efforts have been less than stellar on the decorated Christmas sugar cookie front.

Yes, of course there is lots of Christmas cookie baking going on at the Waverly Place residence -- at least as much as the mandatory 60 hour work week I'm operating under in my day job allows (sorry, just had to add a little whine). I cannot say that I'm yet an expert cookie baker, but I'm learning. Last night a metrosexual man friend (and yes, I mean friend) came over and we played with making fun cookie glaze colors, painting the sugar cookies in all sorts of child-like, crazy ways, and generally discovering that our lack of talent was not a detriment to cookie decorating enjoyment. I'll take some pictures! I love most, I think, the red-headed angel I made for my red-headed daughter (see the picture? isn't it pretty?). Or, from my friend, the purple mane and tail he painted on my sky-blue pony.

But the trouble is finding exactly the right sugar cookie recipe. I've tried two in the last two days. One just wouldn't come together, so I added a whole egg to the one yolk it called for, and still the dough would not roll out, so I made little balls that I then pressed with a cookie form. They taste like rocks. The batch I made last night rolled great, tastes great, but the cookies puffed up upon baking a lot more than my mother's or Mamaw's ever did. I know this beyond a doubt, because I am using the cookie cutters that my mother used when we were growing up, and her angels and Santas and bells and stars and odd Celtic cross thingy were always quite well formed, almost identical to the mold, and mine came out looking like cloud forms that one, with enough leisure to stare at the sky, might imagine were angels and Santas and bells and stars and odd Celtic crosses.

Nicely, though, this morning I received an email from Aunt Janey sending me, at her request, my mother's favorite sugar cookie recipe. Thanks, Mom. You heard my plea. I thought at first this was the recipe from our childhood cookies, but here's what Aunt Janey says about it: "I believe the recipe came from the Midwest Living Magazine. I made them for the first time two years ago, took Christmas cut-out cookies to Salem, that was when your Mother first tasted them and said she liked them better. I don't decorate them at all - just don't take the time. Guess the cream cheese takes some of the sweet out and may be the reason I like them over the traditional sugar cookie. Mother's sugar cookies were always so delicious - sometimes my stuff doesn't turn out like hers."

I hope to make these this coming Sunday. Can you believe I have something booked every single night from now until Saturday? My God. Here's the cookie recipe. If you try it before I do I know we'd all love to hear and see your results!

4-in-One Cookie Dough

The cream cheese adds richness and flavor to this simple, versatile recipe.

1 pkg (8 oz) Philadelphia Cream Cheese, softened
3/4 cup butter(1 1/2 sticks)
1 cup granulated sugar
2 tsp. vanilla
2 1/4 cups flour
1/2 tsp baking soda

1. Beat cream cheese, butter, sugar and vanilla in large bowl with electric mixer on medium speed until well blended.
2. Add flour and baking soda, mix well.
3. Wrap and refrigerate for half an hour.

Proceed below to the variation of your choice. They look great on their own or together on a tray.

Pinwheel Cookies

1. Divide above dough in half.
2. Add 2 sq. melted Bakers Semi-sweet Baking Chocolate to one half of dough, mix until well blended.
3. Divide each half into 2 equal parts (you should have 2 white and 2 chocolate pieces).
4. Roll 1 of the white and 1 of the chocolate dough pieces each into a 10 x 8 inch rectangle on floured surface.
5. Place rolled out chocolate dough onto rolled out white dough and press gently to form even layer.
6. Starting from the short side, roll up dough tightly to form a log; wrap in plastic wrap. Repeat with remaining dough.
7. Refrigerate 1 hour.
8. Preheat oven to 350 F.
9. Cut dough into 1/4 inch thick slices; place on ungreased baking sheets.
10. Bake 10 to 12 minutes or until lightly browned.

Makes about 5 dozen cookies.

Thumbprint Cookies

1. To the basic dough recipe above, add 1 cup finely chopped pecans.
2. Refrigerate 30 minutes.
3. Preheat oven to 350.
4. Shape dough into 1 inch balls. Place on ungreased baking sheets.
5. Indent centers.
6. Bake 10 minutes.
7. Fill each cookie with about 1 tsp. of your favorite preserves.
8. Continue baking 8 to 10 minutes or until golden brown.

Sugar Cookie Cut-Outs

1. Preheat oven to 350.
2. Roll basic dough recipe above to 1/8 inch thickness on lightly floured surface.
3. Cut into assorted shapes and place on greased baking sheets.
4. Bake 10 to 12 minutes until edges begin to brown.
5. Transfer cookies to wire tack.

You can frost these when they cool, or sprinkle with colored sugars before baking - use your imagination!

Pecan Bars

1. Preheat oven to 350.
2. Press dough firmly onto bottom of ungreased 15 x 10 x 1 inch baking pan (cookie sheet).
3. Bake for 20 minutes or until lightly browned.
4. Meanwhile, combine until well blended:

2 eggs
1 cup firmly packed brown sugar
2/3 cup light corn syrup
1/4 cup (1/2 stick) melted butter
1 tsp. vanilla

5. Stir in 3 cups chopped pecans.
6. Spread the egg/nut mixture evenly onto the warm crust.
7. Bake an additional 20 to 25 minutes or until the topping is firm around the edges and slightly soft in the center.
8. Cool and cut into 60 bars.

All this from one recipe! No wonder it's my mommy's favorite!

Hot Toddie from Lisa: Minted Mocha Hot Chocolate for Grown-Ups

2007-12-10T12:22:00.000-06:00

Lisa says: This is a delish spiked hot chocolate. Doesn't get any easier. You can make hot choc from scratch, or just heat milk and add Hersheys syrup, or buy the envelopes [see Margaret's recipe below]. A candy cane stirrer looks festive, too.

Ingredients:
1 oz. peppermint schnapps
Hot chocolate
Whipped cream

Mixing instructions:
Add the schnapps to the hot chocolate and stir. Top with whipped cream.
Option: Sprinkle with chocolate

Lisa's story: This comforting hot chocolate was served to me by my freelance writer friend, Carol. It was a chilly (for FL), very windy evening last December. It was already dark out when I got to her house, and the kettle was whistling invitingly. Expecting a hot cup of tea, I was pleasantly surprised when she set down this fragrant mug in front of me. It smelled like a peppermint patty, a favorite candy of mine. She winked and lifted her cup, "Cheers, dear!"

We took a long drawn out sip and in unison, sighed, "AAAhhhhhhhh."

That warm break from routine was special, unexpected, and made our quick hello a festive little visit. I have made it since, and it always leaves me feeling like it's holiday time!

Margaret's Note: Here's my favorite way to make hot chocolate (adapted from Ina Garten), which I think would work fabulously with Lisa's Minted:

2 1/2 cups whole milk
2 cups half-and-half
4 ounces chopped bittersweet chocolate
4 ounces chopped milk chocolate
1 tablespoon sugar

Heat the milk and half-and-half in a saucepan on medium heat to just below the simmering point. Remove the pan from the heat and add both chocolates. When the chocolates are melted, add the sugar and vanilla extract and whisk vigorously. Reheat gently and serve immediately.