During the fall 2018 semester, I had the heaviest teaching load of my semester, and though I continued to cook a lot, I did not take much time for innovation. I apparently took even less for blogging about it -- not only did I fall off my share of the once-per-week blogging, but I even did cook a new recipe and forgot what it was before I could get it into this space. Sorry, dear readers.
With grades (though not grade-haggling) from that semester behind me, I am happily embarking on a very different sort of semester: a sabbatical! I will still teach an online course (the chance to do extra work is my university's approach to equitable pay), but will have no in-person classes. I have plenty of academic work to do, but at my own pace. Which means more blogging, including food blogging.
It is perhaps appropriate that my comeback recipe is from fellow academics. Some time in the early 2000s (no publication date is given), the International Club of the University of Massachusetts Medical School self-published Mélange (An International Cookbook). The publisher -- Fundcraft -- is still very much in business, but its on-line ordering is not working at the moment, so it is not clear whether the book is still available. I have no idea how or when we acquired it.
These are not professional cooks, but rather professional students sharing their favorite recipes and, by extension, their cultures from throughout the world. It is a wonderful little volume we should consult more often! As far as I can tell, its only previous appearance here was Pam's 2013 Syrian Rice post.
So, what did I cook? Contributors Fiorenza and Erdem Orberk call it Cerkez Chicken, in reference to the Caucasian people who were displaced to Turkey by the Russian invasion of the 1830s. Herewith, the recipe as they wrote it:
Click to enlarge
I was looking for this because we had several boneless chicken breasts that I needed to prepare; I used these instead of a whole chicken, and assumed that "simmer" in this case is equivalent to poach. I simmered them until cooked through. Because this did not yield a genuine stock, I substituted a vegetable stock. I should probably have used less than the 2 cups called for.
We had chopped walnuts onhand, which I further minced, along with half a red bell pepper. (The other half went into our dinner salad.) With no old bread on hand, I used a couple handfuls of Triscuits.
Otherwise, I followed the directions above and added one step that I assume was intended: I put this in a small casserole dish, with the pepper-butter mixture drizzled on top, and baked at 350 for 25 minutes. Honestly, it could have used a bit more heat and a bit less liquid. Still, this was a lean, delicious meal that we will be repeating.
I will also be browsing Mélange in some of my upcoming spare time!
Readers of this blog know that we enjoy cooking and that we cook often. Our kitchens are full of cooking tools and staples; when we shop for food, it is ingredients that we buy. Because most people do not have a blog on "making food" (as it is called), we already knew that we were outliers.
But today's rebroadcast of the Future of Food Shopping story on The Innovation Hub suggests that we -- and people who use this blog -- are becoming quite scarce. Industry analyst Eddie Yoon found than only 15 percent of adults in the United States both enjoy cooking and do so regularly.
He replicated that research more recently -- in a time with more cooking shows on television than ever before are reaching record audiences -- and found that the number had dropped. Only 10 percent of us enjoy cooking and do it regularly. His discussion with Boston-based journalist Kara Miller examines both the decline in interest in cooking and the fact that those who do enjoy cooking are doing so less. They move on to discuss how the food industry might respond to these trends, and none of what they suggest is very encouraging!
As we discuss often with our friends in the Equal Exchange Action Forum, industrial food systems already prioritize convenience at the expense of environmental health, economic fairness, and community development. We hope that some of the hundreds of cooking stories in this blog can help readers find their way to a greater interest in -- perhaps even a passion for -- the preparation of their own food. And whether you cook more or not, please consider joining the Forum.
Lagniappe
The discussion with Eddie Yoon is one of three segments in an hour-long episode entitled Watch What You Eat. One is about the growing importance of cooking on television; the other is about the role of the car in making restaurants the leading source of food for people in the United States.
When James and I bought our beach house one of our intentions was that on Thursday nights we would buy some fresh seafood for me to prepare there while he went out on his whaleboat row and then we would have dinner together when he returned from the sea. We actually pull this off quite infrequently, but last night we managed to make it happen.
Our dinner preparations started with a visit to the fishmonger. Traffic at rush hour wasn't too bad, but was made worse by the fact that we were three cars behind a "texter" at the traffic light in the left-turn lane who was oblivious to the fact that he had a green arrow despite the fact that multiple cars were honking at him. He finally made his turn just as the regular green light came on, the rest of us in line then took our chances going through the light behind him. As it turned out he was going to the same place we were, so we caught up with him at the store, which we we were afraid might be closed because as we approached we saw the parking lot was empty - an unprecedented situation in our experience. The texter pulled up just ahead of us, but did not immediately get out of the car (likely to finish whatever conversation he was in the middle of at the light). I told James to get out fast, so he could beat him inside. No telling what the texter would find to distract himself with once he had his turn at the counter. James headed inside and several other cars then pulled into the lot as well. The texter eventually got out of his vehicle and went inside, too. I waited in the car with our crazy dog and couldn't understand why James was taking so long, so long in fact that someone who went in after him came out ahead of him.
It turned out that there was a new person (a young woman) working at the counter who offered to remove the skin from the salmon filet James had selected, but she really didn't know how. Another employee (a young man) offered to help, but the young woman insisted on trying it herself. Finally an (older, male) employee, one James recognized from our many visits took care of it. Then he had the young woman weigh the filet again "just for this customer" which saved us $3. James also had to make a final statement to the young male employee, admonishing him for calling the other employee a "girl". The young woman, I was happy to learn, also stood up for herself on that one.
Anyway, once James had done his part to smash the patriarchy, we were headed home and I began preparations for the meal, which came from the New York Times Cooking page.
Our indispensable cast-iron skillet was put to good use. First I heated some olive oil and then added a variety of spices (see recipe below). Once the oil was cooked with the spices the filet was placed in the pan, basted with the oil, and then put into a 300 degree oven.
The fish cooked for about 20 minutes, with occasional additional basting. Meanwhile I peeled and diced a cucumber. Once it was cooked the fish was broken into segments and placed onto our official fish platter along with the cucumber chunks. We had ample additional olive oil for dipping the fine bread James had also picked up at the fishmonger.
This was quite delicious. The many herbs and spices, along with the feta cheese (recently purchased from a farmer's market) gave the dish a lot of flavor.
This recipe came from the New York Times Cooking. The online recipe was accompanied this lovely photograph, which looked only a little bit like my finished product. The color of the cake and icing are the same, and I did have three layers. Although mine were rather lopsided, and the caramel cream did not ooze down the sides in quite so perfect a manner. I am sure however, that mine tasted just as divine as this one must have.
With a rather ambitious ingredient list and a whopping 15 steps it was a good thing I left work early on the day before Thanksgiving to get started on this. The first problem I encountered was that I did not own three round cake pans. In fact I had zero. Off to the store went my wonderful husband to bring back the necessary baking items.
Once the appropriate equipment was procured I started mixing the ingredients for the cake. The instructions regularly refer to a stand mixing bowl, and its various attachments. In our house we have only hands, arms, and muscles for mixing. Mostly it wasn't a problem, but I will admit that in making the buttercream frosting it did present a bit of a challenge. Thankfully, my wonderful husband is also a rower and has Popeye-the-Sailor-man-type biceps and forearms (sans anchor tattoo). Ultimately I did have to pick out some biggish chunks of butter from the frosting so that I could more evenly spread the buttercream. Our college child was home for the holiday and suggested using store bought caramel sauce and/or frosting. I explained that was not an option because "on Thanksgiving we go all in". Said child also made a comment along the lines of "what, no pie!" which the New York Times Cooking page actually indicated was a possibility. Fortunately, there is always more than one dessert at Thanksgiving, and a pie was offered by one of the other families with whom we spent the holiday.
In the end the entire family had some hand in preparing this delicious dessert, and it was a hit on Thanksgiving day.
New York Times Cooking doesn't generally fool around with clever names for its recipes. The name of the dish typically accounts for most of the main ingredients. And so it is for Pasta with Mushrooms, Fried Eggs, and Herbs(although it also has some cheese, not accounted for in the name).This was a bit more complicated than I expected. It required two skillets, as well as a pan to cook the pasta, so there were a lot of dishes to wash afterwards as well. I was amused by the recipe's admonishment "red wine not optional" as James and I so often enjoy a Malbec with our meal. This time though we paired the food with a red blend that had a bit of a kick, and frankly weren't thrilled with it. Perhaps if we had just stuck with our old favorite we would have enjoyed it more. The dish wasn't bad, but it is unlikely we will have it again. Too much work for the a dish we didn't really love.
Last Christmas our wonderful child gave us this cookbook as a gift.
We've used it once beforewith good successand last weekend we pulled it out again in an effort to get back to the original purpose of this blog. We had already bought some salmon from our local fishmonger so we selected the recipe based on the type of fish we had.
We immediately noticed that the recipe called for salmon steaks, and we'd bought a fillet, but just decided to go for it anyway. The braising actually worked to our advantage as it served as a quick way to remove the skin.
I was pleased that the recipe called for moving the fish to a platter once it was braised because it provided me with the opportunity to make good use of this special "fish dish" which we got at a yard sale when we bought our beach house. The fish was seasoned with salt and pepper while it "waited."
Once the fish was removed from the pan the aromatics (rosemary, thyme, garlic, and lemon peel) were cooked and simmered with a bit of butter, olive oil, soup stock and white wine (we used a dry Riesling).
Then the fish was placed back into the pan and covered to finish cooking.
Each fall I feel compelled try at least one thing from The Pumpkin Cookbook.This year's recipe was pumpkin scones. It is important to note that none of the recipes in this book are created with canned pumpkin, each recipe calls for an actual pumpkin. The ingredient list for this one says to use 1/3 of a small pumpkin, "about six ounces". I did not weigh the pumpkin I bought. Rather I guesstimated.
Once I took out the seeds and fibers, I cut the pumpkin into wedges, removed the skin, and grated the flesh. Next I blended together 2 cups of flour, a pinch of salt, 1 t. baking powder, and 1/4 c. of butter. I did actually use my electric blender because the recipe said to use a food processor (and such an apparatus I do not own). I won't be trying that again. What a mess, and so unevenly mixed. Next time I will simply use a pastry cutter.
3 T. sugar was added to the mix and then 1/2 c. chopped candied ginger, along with the grated pumpkin. I added 1/3 cup of evaporated milk, but the mix was too sticky, so I had to add some more flour until the dough was a better texture for rolling. I rolled out the dough and used a the edge of a glass in lieu of a cookie cutter to cut out rounds, and then brushed the top of each scone with milk. The scones baked for 10 minutes at 425.
Not much flavor from the "essence of pumpkin" but a seasonal ginger spiciness came through nicely.
It turns out that October is National Cookbook Month - who knew? James and I were glad to discover this in time to be able to take advantage of it, since we haven't been keeping up with this blog every week of late as was the original intention.
I pulled out a never-before-used cookbook - Screen Doors and Sweet Tea: Recipes and Tales from a Southern Cook by Martha Hall Foose. I don't remember when or where we picked this up, but it is definitely one of the newer additions to our collection. This looks way more complicated than it is, and was fun to make, too.
The recipe calls for Catfish, but it was unavailable at our local fishmonger, so we bought some haddock fillets instead. In lieu of lunch sacks, I found two plain brown gift bags in my closet (reused from gifts I'd received - I try to reuse resources whenever possible) and then followed the instructions to spray the bags with cooking spray and then created the sauce with melted butter, olive oil, garlic, salt, lemon juice, and lemon zest. I poured some of the sauce over each filet, along with some pepper. Then then carefully placed each fillet into it's own sack along with a slice of lemon and a sprig of dill. I pulled out the twine handle from each bag and used them to tie the end of the bags closed. The fish baked at 350 for 10 minutes.
The bags puffed up in the hot oven making for a lovely effect when serving.
As the recipe directed I sliced the bags open at the table "for maximum effect".
My last post told of my adventures in apple harvesting and a simple bread-machine recipe using some of my bounty. Over the weekend I used some more of the fruit to make applesauce. I found an easy recipe in my trusty old Deborah Madison Cooks at Home cookbook. After peeling and slicing the apples I put them in a big pot with a bit of water, lemon juice, honey, brown sugar, cinnamon, and ground cloves. Madison suggested using sugar or honey, and cinnamon or cloves, but I knew more was better in this case. I let the ingredients cook on the stovetop until the apples broke down into a chunky sauce.
We had some as a side dish for the tuna steaks with mushroom sauce James made for dinner, and also used it as a topping on our waffles the next morning.
The last bit of sauce was added as an ingredient to a big skillet cake that we shared for breakfast on Monday.
Many years ago (perhaps 14?) we planted two apple trees in our backyard. A few years ago we noticed one apple on one of the trees, and expected that there would be more, but, alas, we waited in vain. Then, a few weeks ago, James came in from the yard with a surprise. He had picked five apples off one of the trees. And a few days later we noticed that the tree was bursting forth with fruit.
We were undeterred by the fact that they were too high for us to reach because Pam knew that the Maxwell Library (where she works) had an apple picker that could be checked out! Off we went to the library and returned with said picker and with such Pam picked a basket full of apples! Of course we returned the picker the next day because that's how libraries work.
Of course it is no good to pick backyard apples without using them in a new recipe!
We marvel that our 21-year old bread machine still works. And fortunately the tattered manual includes a recipe for Apple Walnut Loaf. Still more good news - we already had walnuts, as well as all the other ingredients we needed. This was a "Quick Bread" so it needed no yeast and only took 100 minutes in the machine once everything was in the pan.
Fresh from the machine!
We both enjoyed a slice with a dollop of vanilla ice cream!
On Saturday we planned a picnic dinner to take to theWestport Rivers Sunset Musicconcert. We reprised a favorite from last summer - Ham and Havarti Sanwiches with Peach-Mustard spreadand had stopped at the Huttleston Marketplace in Fairhavenbeforehand in hopes of buying some good bulkie rolls from Cyd's Kitchen. Alas, they had no rolls, but the proprietors did manage to talk us into buying some sweets for dessert - brownies and "brookies" (a combo brownie/chocolate chip cookie bar - which was divine)!
We still had two brownies left on Monday, and I (Pam) realized that we had some vanilla ice cream in the freezer. All we needed was some chocolate sauce in order to make brownie sundaes for a special Labor Day treat. I knew we had some cocoa powder in the cupboard, so I checked online for a simple chocolate syrup recipe. Allrecipes came through with an easy recipe that included only ingredients I already owned.
A perfect treat for a hot end of summer day. So glad I thought of it!
I am the first person to admit that I am hard to buy presents for, which is why I tell people not to get me gifts. I already have more than enough stuff, and I can afford to buy myself just about anything that anyone I know can afford to buy for me, so if I want or need something I will just take care of it myself. With this said I have to say that my in-laws really came through with a recent gift of a variety-pack of flavored salts. Each flavor also had a recipe card, so when James asked what he should pick up at the fishmonger on Tuesday I suggested shrimp so I could try my hand at the Grilled Coconut Shrimp (see photo below), even though I wouldn't have a grill.
Instead of skewering the shrimp (as indicated) with the pineapple and scallions, I stir fried everything in our indispensable cast-iron skillet. It didn't take long. I heated some basil-infused olive oil in the pan, while I whisked the salt, honey, chopped scallions, and soy sauce together. Once the mix was in the skillet I added the shrimp and cooked for two minutes, then turned the shrimp over and added the pineapple chunks and cooked for one minute more. All flavors came through for a sweet and savory meal.
As a rule I don't like coconut (or pineapple), but I do like coconut shrimp (and piña coladas)!
We sometimes include local breakfast sausage in our weekly order fromCrescent Ridge (yes, an old-school milk truck comes to our house every Monday morning). We usually use it in just that way -- as patties with waffles or other breakfast food.
When thinking about our food options last night, however, I decided to look for a way to make dinner from breakfast sausage. It was our salon date night, which usually involves supporting a local restaurant. Because we had been dining out nearly non-stop during our recent vacation in the Maritimes, though, I wanted to make a nice date-night meal at home. And because this is the canicula, I wanted stovetop cooking only -- no oven. This meant that my favorite dinner use of sausage was out of the question.
Rather than opening some cookbooks -- which would have been true to the original mission of this blog -- I did what we often do in such situations. I browsed the results of a search of "sausage" on the AllRecipes web site. I looked at a few options, and settled on Bow Ties with Sausage, Tomatoes and Cream -- one of those recipe titles that essentially is the recipe.
I digressed from the recipe only slightly. I used thin spaghetti instead of bowties or penne, either of which would have held the sauce better. I also used fresh tomatoes instead of the canned equivalent. The preparation was simple and the results -- while not photogenic -- were quite delicious!
It took us two attempts to make this "Start of Summer" meal. Our first attempt was thwarted when we arrived at the fishmonger only to discover that they were out of scallops! We made a plan to be there when they opened on Saturday so as not to be disappointed a second time. James was in charge of the kabob-less Old Bay Scallops. Pam was the chef for the side dish - a tomato-pasta salad recipe from Mary Kay Andrews The Beach House Cookbook.
Being far from Maryland, I could not find a real container of Old Bay. But I did find this juvenile specimen, which proved serviceable.
The side dish was simple enough. While the spaghetti was cooking I chopped some tomato and onion. The chopped tomato was placed in our row boat shaped salad and some olive oil. red wine vinegar, and salt and pepper were added. Next the chopped onion some baby arugula, and shaved Parmesan cheese went in. The cooked pasta was mixed in with everything and some additional shaved Parmesan was added to the top. A lovely cool salad for a very hot day.
James adds: Let's not underestimate the significance of Pam's second line above. This was no ordinary fishmonger -- this was Kyler's Catch, located at the head of the most important scallop harbor on planet Earth (or any other planet, as far as we know). When we found the scallop bin empty -- and its void status was confirmed -- we had no Plan B. We simply backed slowly away from the counter. So it was with some trepidation that we returned yesterday morning!
We did find the scallops, and used the Old Bay scallops recipe we had found on the McCormick web site last week. When we returned to Whaling House, I trimmed and rinsed them, while melting about a stick's worth of butter. To this I added a heaping helping of Old Bay -- about half of the miniature found above, far more than called for in the recipe, which trifles in fractional teaspoons. As if.
In place of the dried parsley, I used a generous heap of finely chopped fresh parsley. The most important departure, though, was that I eschewed skewers. Rather, I placed the scallops on a baking sheet and brushed them liberally with the butter mixture. I broiled them (not to close to the top) for 5 minutes. I then removed the tray, turned each scallop with tongs, and returned the tray for 2 more minutes. The key with scallops is not to over cook. These turned out perfectly, and as Pam notes above, they paired beautifully with the cool pasta she had prepared, and the even cooler Chardonnay from our favorite vineyard.
Lagniappe
The day after we enjoyed this meal, Pam found a remarkable article about the origins of Old Bay, the National Spice of Maryland. Among other things, the article is a reminder of the value of being a country that welcomes migrants in general and refugees in particular. Without asylum, Old Bay itself would be impossible!
Gotta love a recipe with two hyphens in its name. This one showed up on my Facebook feed from the New York Times Cooking pages and I made it for dessert Saturday evening. It is simple to make, but since much of it is cooked on the stove top it has to be watched carefully, or burning on the bottom can be a potential issue. The recipe calls for ground almonds which I was able to take care of rather easily with my blender. The recipe also calls for four eggs, which gives it a custard-y look and flavor, albeit with a denser texture. I don't usually take seconds on dessert, but I did on Saturday!This was really good.
To celebrate the first day of summer I got out my handy Wicca Cookbook and found a recipe for Cucumber Salsa in the Summer Solstice section. It calls for only six ingredients: chopped cucumber, chopped jalapeño (I substituted peperoncini), chopped cilantro, fresh squeezed lemon juice, and salt and pepper. The cookbook says it is "delicious over fish, pork, beef, chicken or salad". We were already planning on preparing fresh fish for dinner, so the salsa was enjoyed on top of some haddock cooked in olive oil.
I also discovered that Baltimore's Mayor Catherine Pugh had proclaimed June 21 to be Old Bay Day. As a native Baltimorean I had no choice but to find a second recipe that called for Old Bay. We had already decided on pasta as a side dish, so I adapted a recipe I found online (by entering the ingredients pasta and Old Bay into allrecipes.com) and prepared cooked rigotoni with chopped cucumbers, red pepper flakes, chopped queso blanco, olive oil, lemon juice, and of course some Old Bay seasoning.
This all made for a simple, yet satisfying and refreshing summer meal.
James adds:
This meal paired well with a (not-too-sweet) Riesling from Westport Rivers Vineyard & Winery. We took the rest of the pasta there as part of our picnic last night for the Sunset Music series.
I was walking through a book store with my mother the first time I learned of Black Eyed Peas, the band. I noticed a display of CDs with the great Sergio Mendes, who was very familiar to me as a fan of Brazilian music. Black Eyed Peas and Fergie were just the people playing along, as far as I was concerned. I did start listening to their music in its own right, and as a featured act, they made me one of the more willing parents attending a day-long concert with my kid a few years later.
I realized just today that it must have been around the same time I learned about the band that I quit encountering the eponymous legume. As I was growing up -- mostly in rural northern Virginia (that used to be a thing) -- we had black-eyed peas frequently. In a sense, my mother introduced me to both kinds.
I do not know whether they are common in some corners of New England, but since coming here, I do not think I have encountered them much at all, nor have I sought them out.
This is all background to why the "Delta Beans and Rice" recipe caught my eye as I was looking through Screen Doors and Sweet Tea this morning, in search of something new and not too heavy for this afternoon's linner. (Since brunch was to be waffles and bacon.)
Martha Hall Foose introduces the recipe with a brief essay, subtitled "Where I Cook," that is rich in cultural geography; I cannot resist sharing it in its entirety:
I once did a presentation at a conference of the International Association of Culinary Professionals, entitled "The Rhythm of the Kitchen." Leonard "Doc" Gibbs of Emeril Live Band fame provided informative foot-tapping commentary on playing music to cooking. For my part, I tried to stump the audience by making my version of perhaps the most ubiquitous dish in the world, rice and beans, and seeing if people could place its origins just by tasting it. And sure enough, guesses ranged from the Caribbean and Africa to the Carolinas and Portugal. Then the audience got to sample the dish while riffs of classic blues music filled the air. That did it: they all knew and understood where the dish was from, and people were calling it Delta peas and rice all over the place. The dish tastes a little like all the places guessed first and it tastes a lot like the one named last.
Reading this, I knew I had found our meal. Now to find black-eyed peas. She calls for frozen, which I have never seen. For me, this has always been one of those foods grown in a can. After my morning row, I scoured the freezers at the local grocery to no avail. I eventually found a few cans of the store brand, from which I learned the Spanish name: frijoles caritas (little-face beans).
To prepare the dish, I queued up this collection:
Then I began to follow the simple directions for the dish itself, and organic, oven-baked chicken to go with it. Enough preamble; here is what I did:
I opened, rinsed, and drained two small cans of black-eyed peas, skipping the cooking instructions provided by the author (since these were already cooked), and set them aside. I also cooked 3 cups basmati rice and set aside.
I then heated 2T olive oil (she calls for soybean oil) and cooked a chopped onion until tender. Then I added 2 cloves minced garlic and cooked just a minute more.
Then I added 2C diced, peeled tomatoes, 1t thyme leaves (I actually put in a lot more than this), 1T apple cider vinegar, 1t sugar, and 1/4t red pepper flakes (again, I did quite a bit more). I simmered this mixture for 15 minutes, then added the peas for a further 15 minutes. At the end, I added the rice to the mixture, heated through, and added 1/4C fresh parsley.
The result: tea-licious! I had included a little bit of thyme and parsley among the seasonings for the chicken, for a perfect pairing. And we were very fortunate that Pam had selected just the right tablecloth for this meal.
Lagniappe
Since this post has turned into a memoir of my life with black-eyed peas, I should add one more account for completeness. When we lived in Tucson, we noticed cans of black-eyed peas with jalapeños in our local grocery.
Like this, but without the bacon
More accurately, we noticed cans of black-eyed peas with jalapeños on the label. Being fans of augmented flavor -- and just wanting the company to know there was a problem -- I sent a letter (this was before food companies were online) explaining what had happened. I included all the details I could think of.
A couple off weeks later, I received a letter from Bush's Best, in box containing various cans of beans and an excellent can opener. The letter included an apology for the mishap and a request for more information. From this I learned that even when there is no obvious date on a food package, there is a date encoded on the label that allows the manufacturer to track all kinds of quality issues.
We had long since discarded the can, but I went back to the store and bought another can. Again it has jalapeños on the label but not in the can. I sent the code, and maybe the whole label, to the company. Another week passed, and I received another letter in a gift package as thanks.
From this I learned the importance of writing effective, polite letters when there is a problem -- both Bush's Best and I had done so. I also learned a little bit about food packaging, which would become a major part of my life just a few years later when I worked for the Wornick Company.
As for those beans, I always buy Bush's Best if it is an option (I checked yesterday -- only baked beans). And we used those well-made, manual can openers for over 20 years. The free ones were better than any we have been able to buy since, and definitely better than any electric can opener.
When I started this blog lo these seven and a half years ago my intention was to make good use of my cookbook collection. Too many of my gems were being underused. Over the years I have found myself using the cookbooks less often, as I find more recipes online. This post pays homage to the original intent of my project. I got out one of my oldest cookbooks New Recipes forPasta, Rice, and Beans - one of those flimsy magazine-quality numbers you can find at the grocery store checkout line, which I am sure is where I picked this one up, sometime in the '90s. We use it often for its stuffed pepper recipe, but I decided to find a "nueva receta" this time and selected "South-of-the-Border Bean and Bacon Pizza". I frankly don't believe that this is a Mexican dish by any stretch, but I didn't come up with the name. The little cookbook is from Pillsbury, and therefore every recipe includes some name-brand ingredients. I ignored this, and certainly wasn't about to use pre-prepared pizza crust in any case. I made the dough in my bread machine. Nor did I use Joan of Arc Spicy Chili beans. I did used canned kidney beans, and then added some chili powder and other spices. Otherwise, I followed the recipe. It was a tasty and filling meal.
When we first started this blog we found this website that lists American Food Holidaysfor every day of the year. We discovered that James' birthday is Home Brew Day which is the main reason why we now own home brewing equipment (and actually use it too!). My birthday, however, is Grape Popsicle Day, and up until this year I just haven't been interested in celebrating my birthday with stupid grape popsicles. But then, sometime between my 53rd and 54th birthdays it dawned on me that wine was made from grapes, too. And so I googled "wine popsicles" and 10 recipes appeared before my very eyes. This year I was in Maryland celebrating my birthday with my extended family so my sister and I selected the Red Wine Fudgesicles to make together. We used the Zinfandel wine recommended, and then followed the simple steps to heat the wine, and add chocolate chips and milk. They tasted just like you would expect fudgesicles to taste, with just a hint of the wine flavor coming through as well
Blogger and her sister enjoying the fruits of their labor.
Lagniappe: My niece made me a Boston Cream Pie for my birthday cake!
See the recipe she used here.
Epilogue:
What started out as a steamy day (perfect for a frozen treat) in western Howard County Maryland turned ominous when the heavy rains began. The mood at the party quickly turned as we all watched the videos one of our favorite places - Main Street Ellicott City - flood for the second time in 2 years.
A brunch guest with gluten sensitivity pushed us out of our usual waffle routine. I know: waffles can be gluten-free, but not in our routine. Rather than taking a chance on redesigning my waffles with visitors coming, I retreated to a relatively simply solution: cornbread.
At first glance, this would be simply simple, not relatively simple. But the scrumptious cornbread that Pam often makes for us (which seems to be missing from this blog) uses some wheat flour along with the cornmeal. Information specialist that she is, she quickly found a gluten-free recipe for Southern (With a Twist) Cornbread on the Fountain Avenue Kitchen site.
Readers will see that blogger Ann has taken a great deal of care with this recipe, and has incorporated feedback from some of her readers. I prepared it almost exactly as written, with two small changes.
I heated our indispensable cast-iron skillet in the oven before adding the oil, which was simply a matter of not reading that part of the directions carefully. The pan was so hot, though, that I think the effect was exactly as intended. The recipe calls for 2T coconut oil and invites substitutions. Pam recommended chipotle-infused oil from our friends at L.O.V.E., and I decided to use one tablespoon of each -- some heat but also some extra crispiness.
The other departure from the recipe was to use a 12-inch pan instead of 10-inch. I am glad that I did not really think this through, because the resulting thinner bread should have made me check for doneness a bit early. I let it go all the way to 18 minutes, though, and the result was perfect crispitiness! (Patent pending on that Hayes-Bohism)
Penguin Christmas potholder is always in season.
Even more than perfect, in fact. We live in a crooked, circa 1885 house, which means that our oven cannot be made level. This caused a bit of the oils to accumulate on top of one side of the bread, and I greedily selected a piece from that side!
Everyone agreed that this was a delicious cornbread, and it went perfectly with the kumquat-habanero marmalade that our guest brought for us.
Lagniappe: Cornmeal
A note about the cornmeal: following the guidance in the original recipe, I selected a medium-ground cornmeal. I looked at several brands, but could not find any without a caution about the possibility of wheat contamination because of shared equipment. So I made the bread and saved the package to show our guest before serving it. This was OK in her case, but I can imagine some gluten-related conditions requiring more careful sourcing.
We have spent each of our 21 Easters in Massachusetts with various members of the same extended family, local friends who have taken our family under their wing each spring. This year, we decided to contribute two sweet items to the feast: the hot-crossed buns about which Pam wrote last week, and my first flan. I had made flan from an instant mix once before, but this was my first real flan, and both of our dishes qualified as first-time-ever for us.
Our hostess had mentioned that some spicy, Latin-American food would be on the menu, which is what inspired me to seek a flan recipe, and to use "spicy flan" in my online search. In preparing to write this blog, I realized that this brought me to a lavender flan recipe, not for the spiciness of the flan itself, but for the name of the recipe site on which it is found. In any case, it turned out to be an excellent find, though I had to substitute a key ingredient and change the baking method in a substantial way.
First, the substitution: I could not find lavender in either of the forms suggested, so I used cardamom at the same juncture in the instructions. This worked very well, but I am curious enough -- and this flan turned out well enough -- that I will seek out lavender and try this again. I describe my equipment change further below.
I began this recipe with the caramel (a word I really don't know how to pronounce). I opted not to follow the multi-tasking instructions at this point. The 10-minute prep time on this recipe is completely bogus in any case, but I prolonged things by simmering the sugar solution first, and not doing anything else until it had turned a sweet, sticky brown. I did this in part because I only have one suitable saucepan, and in part because I have only two arms, not the six required to do things in the sequence described.
My caramel was much darker than that shown on the recipe page, but I have no regrets. It did, indeed hardened immediately when poured out. And I managed not to burn myself or the dog (who lingers in my kitchen sometimes).
The main part of the flan batter is made in two stages, and this does seem to matter. I did make a minor substitution, one that I make in most of our baking endeavors.
In place of an electric mixer with a whisk attachment, I used a standard whisk with a rower attachment.
Pouring the batter onto the caramel was much easier than I expected, the caramel having hardened so quickly.
The main equipment change had to do with ramekins, which are essentially individual, ceramic muffin tins. They come up in recipes every once in a while, but they are one kind of kitchen equipment for which we have not yet taken the plunge. The recipe details the complicated placement of ramekins in a larger pan to ensure very gentle heating of the flan. Instead, I created what was essentially a double pie pan, with warm water and a wet towel between a glass pie pan and a ceramic serving dish.
I added the hot water between layers carefully.
The result: a delicious flan, but one we had to serve pie-style, with the caramel serving as a crust rather than a topping. Our hosts were sufficiently enthused that they are on the lookout for after-market ramekins to get into our kitchen before next Easter.
