Showing posts with label Mom. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mom. Show all posts

Wednesday, October 3, 2012

Cook of the Month! That's Me!



I'm Cook of the Month here in (not so) sunny Newburyport! The Daily News featured me in today's newspaper: Inspired to become a Foodie

Yippee!

I'm very happy with the article, but hope that my Mom won't be offended by the few lines mentioned about the cooking I remember from childhood. Loyal readers of this blog know that she is a beloved guest blogger who has posted several recipes here.

(She also gave me the pig plate shown holding braised pork in the picture above.)

As you'll see if you take a read, I focused on cranberry recipes, because tis almost the season. Also because I love them.

It was great to spend time with Features Editor Katie Lovett, and photographer extraordinaire Jim Vaiknoras. They made me feel very relaxed, as if I was merely having a few friends over for dinner.

Thanks Daily News! You made my Wednesday!

Thursday, September 13, 2012

Goodness How Delicious

A few years ago in Florida, while driving from Jacksonville to the center of the state to visit my mom, I came across an entirely new culinary masterpiece. A southern tradition:


Yep, that's right: boiled peanuts.

They were sold off the tail gate of a pickup truck in a dusty spot on the side of the road.

I liked them. A LOT. They are salty, oddly meaty, slightly strange, and weirdly delicious.

They are also very easy to make if you can find raw peanuts in your neck of the woods. All you do is take 4-5 pounds of peanuts in the shell, cover them with 6 quarts of water, add a cup of salt, and boil them for 2-4 hours (or longer if you like them sooooooofffftttt.)

But don't take my word for it. Just listen to Burl and Johnny:


Goodness how delicious!

Sunday, February 26, 2012

Guest Post: Mom's Cinnamon Buns

A few weeks ago I asked my Mom to do a guest post about the cinnamon rolls she used to make when I was growing up. She agreed, and her recipe is below.

Thanks Mom!

It's funny how your mind plays memory tricks on you though. I could have sworn her rolls were made of biscuit dough, but apparently not. That just might explain why mine never turn out like hers... Ya think?

Cinnamon Buns  
One of the things I enjoyed doing in the 1970's was, making homemade yeast cinnamon buns.

In order to bake something that took hours to make, involved a strategy on my part.

1. There would have to be enough uninterrupted hours
2. The laundry would have to be caught up
3. The antique kitchen hutch would have to be ready for bread making.

Editorial Note: Here's a picture of a hutch that looks a lot like the one we had:


I used to sit at the hutch with an old mechanical adding machine and pretend I was a secratary. Très glamorous!


I’m sure this list will seem strange (to the average baker) but, alas, as a working mother & wife (who also worked Saturday mornings). This is how I figured that... Sunday was The Day.

I think any yeast bread recipe would do for cinnamon buns; I just needed to make a sweeter dough, by adding 3 tablespoons additional sugar with the other ingredients. ( I used the recipe for bread from the Betty Crocker Cookbook.)


Here’s a tip for using the yeast. One package of yeast is dissolved in ½ cup of warm water 110-115 degrees; let this wait for about five minutes before proceeding.

After all the ingredients were mixed together, it was time to manually knead the dough for 10 to 15 minutes. Then, I shaped the dough into a ball, and place in greased bowl, covered by a hot, wet, clean dish towel. I needed a nice warm spot, for the dough to rise, so I placed it on the floor next to the floor furnace. Depending on how warm the spot was, the dough would rise enough between an hour to an hour and a half.

After the dough had risen to about double in size, it was time to punch it down. Then I rolled the dough into a large rectangle, about 24 inches long and 16 inches wide. Next I buttered the dough throughly with softened butter and sprinkled a mixture of brown sugar (about 1/2 cup) and cinnamon (about 2 tablespoons,) and raisins (about one cup) over the top (this is the time to add chopped nuts, if you like, although I never used any nuts.) I then rolled up the rectangle, starting with one long side and working toward the other long side. I pinched the edge, and the ends of the rectangle to keep the filling from falling out.

Now it is time to cut this dough into the cinnamon buns. I found that a long thin bread knife, makes a nice clean cut. I made the cuts about one inch wide, placing the cut side down touching each other on a large cookie sheet. The buns are now ready to rise for another hour, so I covered them with a hot wet cloth, as before, and then down next to the furnace to rise for the last time.

When the rolls had risen for an hour, I lightly touched a roll to check to make sure it does not dent in when touched. Time to bake. 425 for 20-25 minutes.

As the buns baked, the smell in the house and outside the house was so wonderful; voices were often heard asking, "Are they done yet?"

Time to eat cinnamon buns!

Saturday, February 25, 2012

There's No Place Like Home

I've been traveling, with no time for posts. Or not enough discipline for posts. Not sure which.

It was a good trip, with much that was accomplished. But it is so very good to be home.

Big news! My Mom sent me her cinnamon roll recipe, which I'll be posting shortly. YAY!

Thursday, November 10, 2011

Special Guest Blogger: Mama K on Boiled Dinners!

I wanted my Mom to write a guest blogger post, and thought about the dishes that most represented the cooking from my childhood during the 1970s. What came to mind? Boiled dinners!

While Googling about these culinary creations I stumbled across a cool cookbook mentioned in the Cookbook of the Day blog:

Now it's on my wishlist.

My memories of these dinners was that they were simple but had complexity of flavor (not that I knew what that meant at the time). Mom's versions were very straight forward. No Old Bay or garlic. No herbs. The smell would be enticing, filling the house with the promise of something good to come.

But let's hear what Mama K. has to say.
As a young girl growing up in California, I had no idea what a boiled dinner was. Eventually, a person from the East showed me his version of a Boiled Dinner. It consisted of a piece of beef, vegetables, lots of liquid and cooked in the oven.

Several years later, I was married with two children. The four of us arrived in Hornell, New York, from France, after my husband (at that time) was discharged from the U.S. Army.

There were many differences for this California girl to get used to, after landing in New York. Boiled Dinner was my favorite.

So, this is what I learned about a Boiled Dinner:

The ham (at that time) was so salty, that it was ALWAYS boiled in a large pot on the the top of the stove for a few hours, until the ham was falling off the bone. At that time, chunky cut-up vegetables such as, cabbage, carrots, turnips (optional), and onions are added. When vegetables are about half done, the potatoes are added; as they cook fairly quickly, they will totally fall apart if added too soon.

The ham provides a lot of flavor (and salt) to the vegetables. Each person at the meal can decide if butter, pepper and salt needs to be add to the dish. This dish can be served with or without the liquid.
(Editor comment: I don't remember a single turnip.)

I hadn't realized that the hams of the day were saltier than the ones we find now, but it helps explain why you'd want to boil the daylights out of it. Today's hams are so lean and tender that I hate to think what a few hours in bubbling water would do to the texture. I'll have to try it with a smoked picnic shoulder, assuming I can find one.

The other style of ham I remember from the era is canned.

Fortunately for me, time heals all memories, and my recollection of them was significantly more appealing than this.

(BONUS LINK: Turns out canned ham is strongly associated with camping trailers, at least according to Google images. Click here to check it out.)


Tuesday, August 2, 2011

Angel Pie ala Apology

Here's another recipe for Angel Pie! Wonder which one is the most authentic?

I think this comes from Ann Ewing, Staff Writer for Science Service. But a certain Violet Faulkner also has credits at the end of the recipe, so I figured I should mention them both.

I like that you don't fuss with a crust at all. That makes me happy. Not to mention my mom.

But I don't get the apologetic tone regarding graham crackers. What gives?

Here's the story, and the recipe. I think I'm going to try it.
Angel Pie has saved many a day for me when I needed a dessert in a hurry. It looks very festive when garnished with a ruff of whipped cream and shaved chocolate curls. You'd never dream it is made with graham cracker crumbs.

Angel Pie
11 graham crackers, crushed fine
1 cup sugar
3 eggs
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 cup chopped walnuts
Pinch salt

Beat egg yolks until light; add sugar and beat again until mixture is well blended. Add cracker crumbs and baking powder. Add nuts. Fold in stiffly beaten egg whites. Pour into buttered pin pan and bake 30 to 40 minutes in 375 degree oven. Cool. Cut into pie-shaped wedges; flute rum-flavored whipped cream around edges and decorate with shaved unsweetened chocolate. Serves 6.

Sunday, July 3, 2011

Charlie Chaplan's Missing Nephew's Fear-free Swiss Apple Pie


The first thing that struck me about this page is the artist's resemblance to Charlie Chaplan:




Mere coincidence? I don't think so.

The second thing I noticed is that this pie is crustless!

Eureka!

Mom, we are saved!

Swiss Apple Pie

1 large egg, 3/4 cup sugar, beat well and add the following: 1/2 cup flour, 1 tsp. baking powder, 1/8 tsp. nutmeg or cinnamon, 1/2 tsp. vanilla, mix all together. Add 1 heaping cup of apple (chopped fine), pour into greased pie plate, bake 30-40 minutes at 350 degrees. Forms own crust, serve warm or cold.

Thursday, June 16, 2011

More recipes for ladies who lunched: Fonduloha

I'm starting to see why my Mom might have been intimidated by cooking for a ladies event. If the menus in the 1962 Betty Crocker's Cooking Calendar cookbook are any indication, ladies luncheons were not casual affairs. Clearly the menus were meant to impress.

Take the one below for example.

The name of the main dish alone is intimidating: Fonduloha. I can't pronounce it.

The book contains 7 or 8 ladies luncheon menus, and each of them is heavy on presentation. It must have been a lot of pressure.

Here's the recipe, in case you have a few friend's coming over later this week.

Fonduloha
Chicken Salad in Pineapple Boats

2 fresh pineapples
2 1/2 cups diced cooked chicken or turkey
3/4 cup diced celery
3/4 cup sliced bananas
1/3 cup salted peanuts
3/4 cup mayonnaise
2 tbsp. chutney or 1/2 tsp. salt and 1/4 tsp. pepper
1/2 to 1 tsp. curry powder
1/2 cup shredded coconut
mandarin oranges

Cut pineapples into quarters lengthwise, leaving green tops on. Cut around edges with curved knife, remove fruit, and dice. Drain pineapples and pineapple shells very well on absorbent paper. Combine pineapple, chicken, celery, bananas, and peanuts in 3-qt. mixing bowl. In small bowl, blend mayonnaise, chutney and curry. Lightly toss mayonnaise mixture with pineapple mixture. Fill pineapple shells. Garnish with shredded coconut and mandarin oranges. 8 servings.

Wednesday, June 15, 2011

This is the way men like onions...

My mom occasionally made liver and onions when I was young, though if I remember correctly it was a dish she enjoyed solo.

The thing I love most about the recipe below is the caption under the title, which reads "This is the way men like onions--smothering tender slices of liver."

Ain't that the truth.
Fried Liver and Onions

Peel and slice medium sweet onions. Cook in hot bacon fat until golden. Cover and cook slowly until tender. Season with salt and pepper. Remove to warm plate and keep warm while frying liver.

Dip 1/2" thick slices of calves or baby beef liver (allow 1/4 lb. per serving) in flour. Brown in hot fat. Season. Cook over low heat 10 to 15 min., turning once. Serve hot, topped with onions.


Tuesday, June 14, 2011

Turkey Divan and fear of pie-ing

When I was growing up, my mother was a competent cook who presented the simple, basic foods of the day. She didn't experiment much but stuck to her familiar repertoire. We had homemade sloppy joes, chili, boiled dinners, fish sticks, awesome potato and macaroni salads, and the occasional breakfast for dinner (which began my guilty love affair with Spam).

I still occasionally get a craving for macaroni mixed with sliced hot dogs and tomato soup or stewed tomatoes.

She occasionally made homemade bread, pickles, cinnamon rolls, and the best brownies I've ever eaten.

At the time I couldn't tell how she felt about cooking. It seemed like something that just needed to get done, and registered a sort of emotional neutral.

With two notable exceptions.

First, pie crust. For some reason making pie crust sent her into a tizzy. She had a primal fear of tearing. I eventually learned to leave the house when pie was in the making.

The results always turned out beautifully; the fluting on the crust looked like a picture from a magazine. I can't replicate it.

But was it really worth it?

Keep in mind, this was before the days of Xanax, and she wasn't a drinker. Where was all that angst supposed to go?

To this day, the legacy of crust avoidance continues. I still fear the pie shell. I can only pray that my children will break the cycle and step into tart freedom. But only time will tell.

The second example of Mom's emotional cooking was the day she made chicken divan for a ladies event.

My mother was never the kind of woman who attended bridge parties or things of that sort. She was too busy working. I'm not sure what event therefore prompted the divan debacle, but it did involve ladies. And so I couldn't help but notice the recipe below, the starring dish of a Ladies Luncheon menu.

Looking back I know that it wasn't the recipe itself that gave her agita. Especially now, when I see her making spinach souffles, marinated asparagus, complicated desserts and many other dishes.

It was Something Else.

I'm guessing her fear was all about expectations. She didn't want to disappoint anyone. Same as with the pies.

Luckily she no longer seems to be burdened with such unnecessary food fears. Cooking after all is about love, and sharing. It is a gift of self, and should be judged as such.

That being said, I don't think I've ever made chicken divan. Nor am I planning to.

But for those of you adrenalin junkies who like to live on the edge, here's the recipe from the book.

Turkey Divan

1 1/2 lb. fresh broccoli or 2 pkg. (10oz. each) frozen broccoli spears
6 slices turkey (about 1/4" thick) or 1 1/2 to 2 cups pieces of turkey
6 slices cheese
1 can (14 1/2oz.) evaporated milk
1 can (10 1/2oz.) mushroom soup
1 can (3 1/2oz.) French fried onion rings

Heat oven to 350 degrees (mod.). Cook broccoli to crisp-tender stage. Put turkey in bottom of oblong baking dish, 11 1/2 x 7 1/2 x 1 1/2". Cover with broccoli; top with cheese slices and cover with mixture of milk and soup. Bake 25 min. Cover with onion rings and bake 5 min. more. 4 to 6 servings.