Turn the Beet Around - Roasted Root Vegetables

The weekend we were in Georgia for the wedding went far too quickly.  We like Georgia, a lot, and have spent more than a casual amount of time in and around Atlanta and Savannah.  The wedding venue was a little too far from Atlanta to hit some of our usual haunts, like Thompson Brothers BBQ in Smyrna, the Varsity, right smack downtown near the site of the 1996 Olympics, or even the Dekalb Farmers Market, but that just give us an excuse to come back.

Having said that, everything having to do with the wedding was perfect.  The weather, the location (gorgeous), the service (just the right length of time and sweetness), the food (delicious) and the two glasses of white zinfandel.  The groom was the younger son of dear friends and we were honored to have been invited.

I loved the smoked salmon roll-up, with its delicate wrapper and a touch of cucumber in the filling.  Back in the days when we would attend the Disney Food and Wine Festival, one of our first stops was always at Norway, so I could enjoy their gravlax salmon wrapped in lefse, a potato flatbread.  I have tried to replicate the gravlax rolls over the years, but tortillas lack the delicacy of the lefse, so while my version is good, it's not great.  The wrapper on the wedding canapé gave me another idea (lefse still being unavailable in Central Florida), and I will be testing out my theory.  You can expect my full report sometime in the future.

I also loved the side dish of roasted root vegetables, their exteriors perfectly caramelized and their flavors perfectly intensified.  This glorious melange included potatoes, carrots, and beets, and I ate the beets and the world did not end nor did I have to run to the restroom to relieve myself of an offending mouthful.

But I hate beets.  Don't I?

Apparently not, at least not if they are roasted.  I've always liked to roast vegetables like potatoes, carrots, brussel sprouts and onions, so why not throw a couple of fresh beets into the mix?

1/4 cup olive oil
2 tablespoons pure maple syrup
3 garlic cloves, minced or micro-planed
3 beets, peeled, quartered
2 Russet potatoes, cut into eights
2 carrots, peeled, cut diagonally into 2-inch-long pieces
2 parsnips, peeled, cut diagonally into 2-inch-long pieces
1 large sweet potato, peeled, cut into 1 1/2-inch pieces
1 rutabaga, peeled, cut into 1 1/2-inch pieces
1 large onion, peeled, quartered through root end
1/3 cup chopped green onions

kosher salt and ground black pepper

Preheat oven to 350°F. Mix oil, syrup and garlic in small bowl. Place all remaining ingredients except green onions on heavy large rimmed baking sheet. Pour oil mixture over; toss to coat. Spread out vegetables in single layer. Sprinkle generously with salt and pepper. Roast until tender and golden brown, stirring occasionally, about 1 1/2 hours. Transfer vegetables to platter.  Sprinkle with chopped green onions.

Well, I made a few minor changes to the original recipe.  I also used the oil and maple syrup a bit too generously, not bothering to measure.  Not sure the green onions added anything; next time I might use another fresh herb or skip it all together.  This makes a huge amount, which is great for Thanksgiving,  not so great for at-home during the week.  It was still pretty good, and I would definitely make it again, especially for a crowd or a potluck.

The Artist Formerly Known

I am an artist and my medium is food.  Well, sometimes it is yarn, but for the purposes of this post, it is food.

Yesterday, a Monday, went surprisingly well.  I came home with enough energy to fill the manicotti shells and slice the pork loin.  I am enjoying my accomplishments, but not getting ahead of myself.   There is beef stew to skim and a sage cream sauce to create.  I would like to try the Thanksgiving stuffing bread again, because it could benefit from a few tweaks and fiddles (which is why it hasn't been posted yet.)  There is also an application to be filled out for passport renewal (those were the fastest ten years of my life) and plans to be made for the Big Pig Jig in Vienna (pronounced Vy-Anna) Georgia.  My evenings are nothing if not interesting.

Is that not a gorgeous hunk of pork loin?  Seriously, look at that appetizing glisten of the maple barbecue sauce!  And I cannot help but admire the consummate skill of the carver who wielded that vintage 1974 electric knife with such success!  (Cooking and carving is so much better than watching an endless parade of political ads, by the way.)

A photo of the 1974 electric knife with the 1977 crockpot. Old friends. No, I mean it, really old friends.

That was the cooked pork loin I defrosted the other day, and it was as delicious as the day I originally made it, maybe even better.  The Thanksgiving stuffing bread recipe, including the tweak and fiddle has finally been posted.  And on a more serious note, thank you to everyone who said a prayer for Peter.  Reports from Tennessee are good.

Finally, tomorrow is Election Day.  Regardless of your preferences or party affiliation, please get out there and vote - it reminds the politicians that we're paying attention.

Giving thanks for Thanksgiving - Thanksgiving Stuffing Bread

"The Y2K problem is the electronic equivalent of the El Niño and there will be nasty surprises around the globe." — John Hamre, United States Deputy Secretary of Defense^[5]

Hmmm ... well, that certainly explains how the year 2000 played out for my family.  Not that it started badly; on the contrary.  First, as New Year's Eve rolled along, I got a phone call from my childhood friend, Bethe.  We had only recently found each other after a 30 year lapse.  She had already celebrated the New Year - in Romania! - and called to send her love and good wishes.  I was looking forward to seeing her in about a month, at my son's bar mitzvah.

The next day, the sun rose, the sky was blue, the World Wide Web neither crashed nor burned, and my husband became a godfather when our dear friends Laura and Jay were blessed by the birth of their second child.  Eight days later, I sighed with relief as my husband carried his godson to his grandmother's arms on his way to the bris.  He neither dropped the baby nor passed out during the actual circumcision, and that was a good thing.

The year moved along with happy occasions and family celebrations.  My son's bar mitzvah was everything I had hoped it would be.  My Number One Niece graduated high school.  My Number Two Niece celebrated her bat mitzvah.  2000 was tricking us into thinking that everything was going to be alright.

Our First Cruise - Thanksgiving 2001

But there was a problem brewing that year which unfortunately upset a lot of apple carts, and made us want to be somewhere else for family gatherings.  Thanks to our friends Jay and Laura (Jay had to stage an intervention, as I had not been on a vacation in 10 years) we traveled with their family to St. Croix over Thanksgiving, and then with Bethe and her family, continued to travel at Thanksgiving for a few years afterwards.  That first Thanksgiving, though, went out with the Year 2000 slide into hell.  The trip to St. Croix was glorious, but we spent a lot of time watching hanging chads, and then on November 27, our last evening on the island, we got a call that my grandmother had passed away in her sleep.

Ah, Venice - Thanksgiving 2004

In addition to St. Croix, we traveled to Mexico and the Caribbean, and even twice to Europe.  Oh, those trips were wonderful, and I will treasure the memories, but I never did get over a weird feeling at eating something other than turkey and stuffing at Thanksgiving.  My son, on the other hand, had no problems eating warm water lobster and squid ink risotto on that most American holiday.

At the Acropolis in Athens, Greece, Thanksgiving 2005

The trips stopped after a while - work schedules and competing financial obligations, and the original problem had sort of resolved itself - and although Bethe and I talked about possibly starting up again for Thanksgiving 2012, we were not able to make it happen.  So I've gotten back into the habit of wrestling a turkey and making too many side dishes, and I'm okay with that. Thanksgiving remains my favorite holiday for cooking and eating.  I love the planning stages and I love the execution. 

Cory eating spiny lobster for dinner in St. Croix, Thanksgiving, 2000

Now, the question remains - what about baking a bread with certain herbs and spices, specifically for the purpose of preparing the stuffing (or dressing, I'm not fussy) for the turkey?  It so happens I came across such a recipe while looking through one of my bread machine cookbooks, and the bread machine was out on the counter anyway from the Hungarian onion bread, and I still had yeast available, and you know what happened - I tried the recipe.  Maybe I made a few minor changes - added a couple of herbs, doubled the amount of one or two spices, that sort of thing - and then there was that small stalk of celery - well, we will just have to wait and see.  It just seems to me that most American recipes are woefully under-seasoned, which is why you should taste, re-season, and taste again when cooking.  But you can't do that when baking, so I am taking a chance upfront.  If it works, I will happily share the recipe with you, and if not, we'll pretend this conversation never took place.

A little later ... 

Better than expected.  I was concerned when the top inexplicably sank, but it did not affect the flavor or texture.  This is definitely a great bread for stuffing (and for eating, I keep picking at it.  Tasty.)  The flavor of the spices and herbs is very pronounced, but not obnoxiously so.  Cut into cubes, dried out a bit, and mixed with cooked sausage and maybe some apple, celery and onion sauteed in a little butter, an egg to bind it - I look forward to experimenting.  

Thanksgiving Stuffing Bread

This is a recipe for a bread machine, so add the ingredients to the bread pan in the order given, unless your manufacturer suggests otherwise.

1 1/3 cups water
1 extra large egg
4 tablespoons butter
1/2 cup diced onion
1 small stalk of celery, chopped
4 teaspoons sugar
1 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon black pepper
2 teaspoons rubbed sage
1 teaspoon dried thyme
1 teaspoon dried rosemary
1 teaspoon celery seed
1 teaspoon poultry seasoning
2 teaspoons granulated garlic
1 cup precooked cornmeal (masarepa, masa de harina)
3 1/3 cups bread flour
1 packet of Rapid Rise (Highly Active) Yeast

Set your machine for White or Basic Cycle.  Let the bread bake according to the machine manufacturer's directions.  Cool, slice, and store for Thanksgiving.

November 3, 2014

I was not totally satisfied with the recipe, so I re-ran it tonight, with a couple of important adjustments.  I really think part of the problem with the first bread was that I misjudged the amount of liquid by using a sweet onion, uncalled-for-chopped celery, and an extra-large egg.  

Here are all of the changes I made:

Make sure that you are using a regular yellow onion, and measure exactly 1/2 cup
Use 1 large egg instead of an extra-large
Eliminate the celery
Add 1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper (optional)
Use coarse yellow cornmeal instead of the masarepa
Use just 2 teaspoons of yeast, instead of the entire packet

Now I'm just waiting for the baking to be over.

Isn't that perfect?

Apparently not.

The last time I saw a sinkhole like that was on the 5 o'clock news.

(It still tastes good.)

False Bravado

All day long, wearing a mask of false bravado 
Trying to keep up the smile that hides a tear 

I had some serious cooking plans for this weekend, even after paring down the list once I gathered all available ingredients.  There were two shopping trips, one to BJs and one to Publix, but that's pretty standard  But coming on the heels of my freaky Friday which ended with me crashing on my couch for 6 hours, I should have known better.  All my brave words about telling fibromyalgia to kiss my grits were for naught.

The beef stew went swimmingly, but by the time we hit the produce section at Publix, my legs felt as heavy as tractor-trailers attached to my hip bones, and my back was hurting.  So was my head, but these days, that's standard.   Once home, I researched the best way to peel beets in anticipation of a dish I call Oven Roasted Russets, Beets, and Sweets, and armed and ready to do battle with root vegetables, promptly landed back on the couch in pain and frustration.  And exhaustion, did I mention exhaustion?

So as I sit here right now, there will be no sweet and tangy chicken, fall harvest manicotti, pickled pasta salad, roasted root veggies, or apple cake.  Not that my family will starve, far from it, and considering the multiple world crises of Ebola, ISIS, economic recession and the Ukraine, this is hardly a big deal. Well, the cooking is hardly a big deal.  The fibromyalgia had been giving me a pass recently, and I guess I got used to feeling normal.

I'm beautiful in my way
'Cause God makes no mistakes
I'm on the right track, baby
I was born this way

Until next time ...

Pork Belly Politics - Root Beer Braised Streak o' Lean

I am so sick of good cheap foods being suddenly and dramatically overpriced because celebrity chefs are (wisely, for them) finding ways to use them in their high-end restaurants.  The only exception to this is chicken liver, and I don't want to say that too loudly, because my husband and I love chicken liver.  But beef short ribs, lamb and pork shanks, pork belly, a simple beef brisket, and even the humble oxtail are being priced right out of my food budget.  If my grandmother could see the current-day price of brisket, she would roll over in her grave, but for the fact that she was cremated at her own request.

Over the past few years, I have had the opportunity to savor absolutely sublime pork belly prepared in different ways at different venues, including Emeril's Tchoup Chop, Artist Point at Disney's Wilderness Lodge, and at an incredible Savannah treasure with the unusual name of a.lure. Served with seared foie gras and a deep-fried Krispy Kreme doughnut, that dish has made the menu of my Last Meal, which contains elements such as lobster, chocolate, and even osetra caviar.  Pork belly is a formerly super cheap cut, used in Chinese cuisine for a dish called Shanghai-style braised pork belly, red braised pork belly, crispy pork belly, and the like.  I love love LOVE it, and that means I really want to be able to cook it at home.  But I have yet to see pork belly in the meat refrigerators at Publix or BJs or Walmart, at any price.

On our way home from Georgia, we stopped at Carroll's Sausage and Country Store in Ashburn.  Besides an amazing selection of fresh and smoked sausage, I picked out a small piece of streak o' lean to experiment with.  I had never heard of streak o' lean until, years after my relocation to Florida, I happened upon My Mother's Southern Kitchen by James Villas.  He explains how his mother, like s many other southern cooks, uses streak o' lean when cooking green beans, baked beans, and leafy greens southern style.

What I found, after a little online research, is that cuts like pork belly, salt pork, and streak o' lean are all related to our American bacon, cut from the same or close to the same part of the pig.  Bacon and pork belly are actually fraternal twins. Streak o' lean is very similar to salt pork, except it has a higher meat-to-fat ratio.  Both streak o' lean and salt pork are salted, which pork belly is not.  So what I wanted was to try a little Harry Potter magic and turn the streak o' lean back into pork belly.

Prior to developing my cooking strategy, I cut off a very thin slice of the pork and fried it briefly.  There's a pretty good meat-to-fat ratio, and nice texture, but without a doubt, it was too salty to be used without a culinary intervention.  So I soaked it overnight in milk; if I was to try this again, I would soak it longer, and would change the soaking liquid a few times, much like you would do with bacalao (salt cod).  I would also switch to a salt-free seasoning, or just combine a few spices like black pepper, granulated garlic, onion powder, and sweet paprika.

I cooked this in the crockpot, but you could probably cook it, tightly covered with foil, in a slow oven as well.

Root Beer Braised Streak o' Lean

1/2 pound square chunk of streak o' lean
2 cups of whole milk (plus more for repeated soakings)
Crystal hot sauce (to taste)

2 tablespoons light brown sugar
2 tablespoons Emeril's Essence (spice blend)
small amount of Wondra flour
1/2 tablespoon olive or canola oil

1-12 oz. bottle A&W root beer (I had diet in the house)
Worcestershire sauce
a few drops of Crystal hot sauce

I removed the skin carefully, leaving the top fat layer intact. and then placed the pork in a ziptop bag with the milk and enough Crystal hot sauce to turn it a very pale pink.  I soaked the pork overnight, then removed it from the bag, patted it dry, and discarded the milk.

Once it was dry, I rubbed it with a spice paste made by combining the brown sugar, Emeril's Essence, and the oil.  Next, I dusted all sides of the pork with a very small amount of the Wondra Flour, and placed the pork at the bottom of a crockpot.

I poured the A&W into the crockpot around the meat, and added about two or three glugs of the Worcestershire and a few drops of the Crystal hot sauce.  Cover the crockpot and cook on low for 4 to 5 hours, until the pork is meltingly tender.  Don't cook any longer than that, as the pork will become more like corned beef, which isn't bad, but also not the purpose of the recipe.

You won't need any kind of sauce to enjoy this.  Trying serving it as a lunch or appetizer with a starchy side like rice and some fresh green beans that have been steamed or cooked in a little butter.  If there are any leftovers, do not store the pork in the cooking liquid, as it retains a good part of the salt.

I liked it, and next time I can find a piece of streak o' lean, I will definitely try it again.

Rock Around The Clock - Beef Stew in Red Wine and Sofrito

I had trouble sleeping for the stupidest reason imaginable - I was cold.  My feet, my hands, my whole being, all uncomfortably freezing cold.  Every part of me except for the back of my neck, and that was because Woody settled down there to sleep.

I finally added layers to my nightclothes, a sweater, yoga pants, a pair of handknit socks, and crawled under the blanket, covering most of my head in the process.  I would have added a hat to my ensemble, but my superstitious nature would not allow me to put a hat on the bed.  It never got below 55 degrees out there, by the way.  Once I fell asleep, I slept well, especially as I luxuriated through that extra hour that magically appeared about 2 AM.  If I didn't know I have to give the hour back come next spring, I'd be even happier.  But I'm the person who gets jet lag from driving back and forth to the Central Time Zone, and happiness is relative anyway.

This morning, feeling reasonably rested, I set out to tackle some of the items on my cooking list. I had 4 pounds of gorgeous stew meat, already cut into nice big chunks, and some fresh vegetables I picked up at BJs yesterday, and other vegetables in my fridge - those were looking a little limp, past their prime, so to speak, which made them perfect for the stew.

I must have a dozen different recipes for beef stew, but I felt like doing something a little different, and that was where the sofrito and the Tuscany chicken broth came in.  This is the result, and it is quite tasty.  I cannot, incidentally, emphasis enough the need to taste and season throughout the entire cooking time.  According to my own personal cooking god, Emeril Lagasse, this creates layers of flavors which you can't achieve by seasoning just at the beginning or the end.

Somewhere out there rages a huge debate over whether to include potatoes in beef stew.  Potatoes stretch a stew to feed even more people.  They taste good, having soaked up some of that luscious sauce, but they also thicken the stew more than desirable by soaking up the same sauce.  Most importantly, potatoes do not freeze well at all.  If you do freeze leftover stew containing potatoes, once it defrosts you will be left with pockets of watery, unappetizing potato sludge.

I would rather choose from any number of side starches to accompany the stew, like poppy noodles with peas, kasha varnishkes, arroz con gandules (keeping with the sofrito mood), homemade spaetzle, or any of their less ethnic cousins.  If it is potato you crave with your stew - and I often do - boil, bake, roast or mash them and let the gravy flow.  Anyway you choose, you are going to end up feeding a lot of happy people.

Beef Stew in Red Wine and Sofrito

4 slices bacon, large chop

2 tablespoons butter

1 large Vidalia or other sweet onion, large chop

3 celery stalks from the heart (center - this will use up any remaining stalk)

3 carrots, large chop

2 parsnips, large chop

3 large cloves garlic, chopped

Seasoning - all to taste:

kosher salt

ground black pepper

granulated garlic

onion powder

dried thyme

dried rosemary

sugar

paprika

Goya sofrito, tomato cooking base

4 pounds beef stew

1 cup red wine

1 - 32 oz. container Progresso Tuscany Broth

1 tablespoon soy sauce

2 bay leaves

1 large green bell pepper, cut into large squares

1 large Vidalia or other sweet onion, halved and sliced

1 pound whole baby bella mushrooms, quartered

2 tablespoons olive oil

In a large deep pot, over medium high heat, render the bacon until a good amount of fat appears.  Do not brown the bacon all the way.  Add the butter, then add the vegetables. Lower the heat to medium and cook the vegetables for about 10 minutes.  Add about 1/4 cup of sofrito and 1/4 cup water and cook another 2 minutes until the vegetables are coated with the sofrito.  Remove from the pot and set aside.

Add a little more butter to the pan, and working in batches, brown the beef cubes on all sides.  Don't worry about washing out the pot first, and don't overcook the beef; you just want a light sear.  When the last batch of beef is removed, pour the wine in and stir to deglaze the pot, and then add the broth and the soy sauce.  Taste and season the cooking liquid (not too heavily) and then carefully return the cooked meat and vegetables to the pot, including any liquid that has collected.  Add the bay leaves.  Cover the pot and simmer the stew until beef is tender, about 1 1/2 hours, adding the green bell pepper after the first half hour.

In a large skillet, heat the olive oil and add the onions.  Cook over medium for 10 minutes or until the edges show some browning.  Add the mushrooms and cook another 10 minutes.  Once the stew is at the 1 1/2 hour mark, add the onions and mushrooms, cover and cook for another 15 minutes.

If you have the time, refrigerate the stew overnight and remove the solidified fat layer.  Warm the stew slowly, and serve over the starch-of-your-choice.  Heartwarmingly delicious, I promise.

To round out the meal, start with a wedge salad and hot rolls or biscuits.  Enjoy!

It's astounding, time is fleeting - Maple Barbecue Sauce and a Sweet Sweet Potato Casserole

Whatever my little wake-up-and-feel-awful incident was yesterday, it got worse.  One hour in the office, one hour in my car, eyes closed, but the weakness would not pass.  I went home and crashed on the couch for 6 undisturbed hours.  A truly rotten day.  And it could have been caused by anything, I suppose, because in the past I have tested low for iron, vitamin D, and vitamin B-12.  Low blood sugar has plagued me over the years, as has fibromyalgia, the never-ending menopause, and that pinched nerve in my upper spine.  What a drag it is getting older, eh?

Having said all that, I still consider myself to be in pretty good health.  I hate to be slowed down, and when it became obvious I could no longer take Lyrica, a wonderful drug for nerve pain, because my weight was racing to the top of the charts at an alarming rate, I told fibromyalgia it could kiss my grits, and kept marching forward.  Most days are pretty good, it's just that yesterday was not one of them.

Someone who could use your prayers is my godson Peter, seen here with his sister and their dad, the Headless Horseman.  Monday, Pete is having open-heart surgery up in Tennessee.  Peter was born with a congenital heart condition which has caused him to have to endure multiple surgeries over the years.  Even as I write this, his mom, my cousin Sheryl, his dad, the Headless Horseman (or as we usually refer to him, Gary) and his sister Stephanie, are on their way north to be with him.  Love and prayers for Peter and the entire Depp family.

With last weekend being our wonderful mini-vacation in Georgia, I've let the cooked food supply approach zero, and that means this is a food-shopping and cooking weekend.  Whoo hoo!  The menu is going to be driven by what we find on our shopping expedition in the Expedition, but just in case nothing inspirational jumps out of the case, I pulled plunder from the freezer, a delicious pork loin, and set it out to defrost.

That pork loin was roasted with a generous coasting of my mother's barbecue sauce, which is good enough to serve on wood chips, but does better on succulent pork, as you will see if you try it.  I also found another fine find in my freezer, which will go perfectly with the pork:

That's a sweet potato casserole, sweeter than it probably needs to be - I prefer a baked sweet potato topped with butter - but it happens to be perfect for upcoming Thanksgiving tables, when everyone expects their yams to be topped with a thick layer of melty marshmallow.

Before those recipes, a peek at the rest of my weekend:

There will be some sort of beef stew with baby bella mushrooms, sweet and tangy chicken,  and yet another pasta salad, this one with marinated bocaccini (baby mozzarella).  I'm hoping to do some other stuff; at the top of that list is a very special apple cake, made with the very special apples I picked up in Georgia this past Monday.  So many recipes, so little time ... no doubt my cooking plans will slop over into the work week.  Won't be the first time.

Pork Loin with Maple Barbecue Sauce

I like to buy one of those enormous cryovac'ed pork loins that I find in BJs warehouse.  I cut them right down the middle, and if I am planning on using a fruit stuffing, I freeze one of those halves uncooked.  This time I skipped the fruit stuffing, cooked both halves at the same time, and froze one of them for future use.

Pat the pork dry and season with anything that suits your fancy.  Kosher salt, ground black pepper, sweet or hot paprika, granulated garlic, and the list goes on.  Or pick your favorite commercial spice blend, or google Steven Raichlin and try one of his spice blend recipes.  Pork is so versatile, you can cook it right away or put it into the fridge for a couple of hours or overnight.  If you are using my grandmother's barbecue sauce, I would recommend you don't use smoked paprika or any smoke-infused blend, as it will totally override that nice maple flavor.

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees (375 works also) place the loin on a rack in a nice aluminum tin (I love you, Cousin Steve!) and roast it for about 45 minutes.  Check your temperature with a meat thermometer - it will probably read between 95 and 105 degrees - pour on some of the sauce, and return to the oven.  Check the pork every 15 minutes.  Pour on a little more sauce, and watch the internal temperature.  Once the pork reaches 145 degrees, it is done and you can remove it from the oven to rest.   The sauce should be nicely glazed but if it needs a little nudge, turn on the broiler for just a moment, keeping the oven door open and never taking your eye off of it.   When the sauce is set the way you like, take out the pork roast and let it rest.  I  like to do the slicing with an electric knife, and slice it fairly thin.  Serve the pork with some of the sauce spooned over.

Maple Barbecue Sauce

2/3 cup Log Cabin Original maple flavored syrup

3 to 4 tablespoons Heinz ketchup

2 tablespoons French's yellow mustard

2 scant tablespoons fresh lemon juice

1/2 teaspoon granulated garlic

1/8 teaspoon cayenne pepper

a few drops Tabasco sauce, optional

kosher salt and ground black pepper, to taste

Place all the ingredients into a screw top container.  Shake well to combine.  Refrigerate for several hours or overnight before using.  Always shake the container before using the sauce.

Don't bother trying this with real maple syrup, it doesn't work.  It's got to be the maple flavored syrup and it's got to be Log Cabin.  Also, don't put this in a blender nor use beaters or a whisk to combine.  That will cause the mixture to emulsify, which will turn your nice pourable barbecue sauce into edible sludge.

The sauce works on any kind of pork dish, and on chicken as well.  And now, the sweet potato casserole.  I found this in a cookbook written by Carnie Wilson.  I'm not sure if anybody except other post-surgery gastric bypass patients ever bought it, but it has quite a few delicious recipes in it, and almost none of them are dietetic.  This is one of them.

Sweet Sweet Potato Casserole

2 large cans cut yams (Bruce's), drained

1 - 21 oz. can apple pie filling

1 - 21 oz. can cherry pie filling

2 tablespoons butter, cut into small pieces

1 teaspoon cinnamon

1 tablespoon brown sugar

1 bag of small marshmallows

dried apricots, prunes, and/or raisins, to taste (I like raisins)

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.  In a greased baking dish, layer the sweet potatoes with the apple and cherry pie fillings.  Dot with butter, sprinkle with some of the cinnamon, and throw some of the dried fruit and marshmallows over, then sprinkle with some of the brown sugar.   Repeat the layers until everything is used up, ending with marshmallows.  Bake for an hour; if the marshmallows get too dark or start to burn, cover with some aluminum foil to finish baking.  Let this cool down a bit before serving.

Morning Has Broken

Another Friday morning in paradise ... I watch as Anakin Skywalker, The Last Cat Standing, stretches his way out of his bed on the floor by my side to begin his morning routine.  An extended morning greeting follows, complete with head bumps and loud purring.  I swallow a hydroxyzine, which is supposed to give me some relief from the chronic itching in my hands and arms, without knocking me on my ass.

There seems to be an insurmountable distance between my eyes and my brain, as though my senses are operating on automatic while my brain remains disengaged.  I have been awake since 5:30, and have crawled back into bed to soak up those last precious minutes of semi-sleep.  From under my eyelids I can see Anakin riding my husband's shoulders as they head downstairs for tea and kitty treats.  In my half-wake, headachy state, Anakin resembles an Egyptian Pharaoh, borne upon the Royal Litter to the Nether Regions of my home's first floor.  He plays his part with panache, his silky black-and-white head held high and proud, perusing his kingdom.

Comforting rituals which do nothing to assuage that vague feeling of dread that causes me a stubborn reluctance to leave the sweet emotional safety of my bed.  My "boys" - Woodrow, Indiana, and Romeo - are prowling the halls and stairway, heading first to the kitchen to stand in line for their morning snack, and then back upstairs to check on my progress.  Chelsea sleeps through everything, that lucky dog.  Eventually Chelsea and I make our way down the dark stairway.  I am carrying her, all six pounds of short-legged little Yorkie, teetering on the edge of early old age.  We teeter together.  She is rewarded with extra treats for using the pee-pee pad,  For me, it's all about that first cup of coffee.

My weight, which I monitor daily, is like an old Barry Manilow song:  "I'm lost, I'm found, I'm up I'm down, but somehow I survive ..."  I understand my sudden rapid weight loss even less than I understood the sudden rapid weight gain.  Could it have all been related to the start and stop of the Lyrica?  Is my body undergoing another one of those momentous hormonal shifts so prevalent among Woman of a Certain Age?  Have the scars from my 2003 gastric bypass surgery woken up and rearranged my digestive system yet again?

There are no court hearings scheduled today, but a truckload of office work which must be addressed expeditiously.   I sense a disturbance in the Force, and try to beat down my anger at the recent advent of the office dementor ("sucking the joy out of people's lives since 1632.")  And worst of all, the coffee is not working.  My eyes continue to spin in their sockets, while my eyelids droop uselessly.

Happy Halloween.  Let's have another cup of coffee.

Deer Readers ... (Mexican Chicken Meatball Enchilada Soup)

I would be lying if I told you I'd had absolutely no worries about our recent drive to Georgia.  Last time we attempted a night trip up I-75, we had an unfortunate encounter with a deer.  Unfortunate for the deer, who likely did not survive, and unfortunate for our brand-new car.  It took us 2 days to get home, by way of Albany, Georgia, and cost a whole lot of money we did not have.  

The weekend of the wedding, because of other commitments, we could not leave home until quite late, meaning we did not reach our destination outside of Atlanta until somewhere around 3:00 in the morning.  That was a lot of time spent on dark roads bordered by woods on both sides.  Deer live in those woods; we could not help but hope that none of them were related to the guy who plowed into us last November.

Thankfully, this trip was deer-free.  I was looking forward to this wedding for quite a while, and on the trip back, we had stops planned at the peach farm and the sausage place and maybe the nut place.  I had my knitting and my iPad and I was going to relax if it killed me. 

Eating on the way up the interstate, dinner was a chicken salad sandwich for Rob, and a cup of seafood chowder for me, straight from Wawa.  That reminded me that I haven't made soup in a couple of weeks.  I like to keep soup in the fridge the way my grandmother liked to keep a container of tuna fish salad.  Nobody was ever going to go hungry in her house, no matter what the hour or the circumstances. There is no better snack, in my opinion, than solid albacore tuna mixed with a lot of Hellman's mayonnaise piled on a piece of matzo.  Unfortunately, unlike my grandma I'm not real diligent about the tuna (or the soup, for that matter) and in lieu of tuna, I've been known to turn to chocolate for my 3 AM snacks.

This wasn't a cooking weekend for me, which didn't stop me from planning what I was going to cook when I get back.  Like chicken soup, with tiny chicken (or turkey) meatballs.  With a decidedly Mexican flavor, offering a good excuse to eat more sour cream.

Mexican Chicken Meatball Enchilada Soup

1 pound ground chicken (not all white meat)
1 egg
1/2 cup seasoned bread crumbs
2 teaspoons kosher salt
1 teaspoon black pepper
1 teaspoon granulated garlic
1/2 teaspoon McCormick's Montreal Chicken Seasoning
1/2 teaspoon cumin
1 tablespoon dried cilantro leaves
2 tablespoons grated Pecorino Romano cheese

1-32 oz. carton chicken broth
1-32 oz. carton chicken stock
2-10 oz. cans mild green chile enchilada sauce
1 cup diced fresh tomato
1 large onion, diced
1 large carrot, chopped
1 celery stalk, with leaves, chopped

In a medium pot, bring the chicken broth to a steady simmer.  Combine the first 10 ingredients and make very small meatballs, not more than an inch across.  Place the meatballs into the simmering broth and poach gently.  When they are all poached - there should be no more pink color showing - add the enchilada sauce, and the tomato, and turn off the heat.

In a large pot, heat a small amount of corn oil, and add the onion, carrot, and celery.  Season with a little salt, pepper, granulated garlic, and a pinch of sugar, and saute' until the onions are just beginning to color.  Add the chicken stock and bring up the heat.  Then very carefully transfer the meatballs and cooking liquid from the medium pot into the large pot, and bring to a simmer. Adjust the seasoning.  I used salt, pepper, garlic, a small amount of cumin, and a sprinkle of the cilantro leaves.  Cook the soup partially covered for about 15 more minutes. 

There is a small amount of heat from the 'mild' enchilada sauce. I recommend that you stir in a spoon of sour cream into your soup bowl, and garnish with tortilla strips.  This soup is both light and filling.  Please enjoy.

Serves 8-10

#TBT - Apple, Pear and Peach Strudel

Inspired by a pie, only better. This recipe yields four medium sized strudel rolls.  This is such a good idea for Thanksgiving dessert, I expect there to be a run on frozen fillo!

Come to think of it, I haven't seen strudel on a dessert menu for many, many years.  Creme brulees and bread puddings galore, molten chocolate cakes, tiramisu, cobblers ... but no strudel.  I also just checked a couple of celebrity chef cookbooks, and no strudel, not even in my much-loved Emeril's Potluck.  We used to serve apple strudel at the kosher catering hall in New Hyde Park, but that was over 20 years ago.  The strudel came from a kosher bakery, and it was, in my opinion, just "all right."

A search of the Food Network site pulled up only 57 recipes for strudel, more than half of those for savory versions.  Of the sweet variety, a number used puff pastry instead of fillo.  The most recent entry is from 2008, a pear and pineapple strudel courtesy of Guy Fieri, which he makes with puff pastry.  In 2007, Paula Deen prepared a rather delicious sounding apple strudel on an episode of Paula's Home Cooking, and she did use fillo (phyllo) leaves.  I don't recall ever seeing any sort of strudel on the menus at The Lady and Sons Restaurant, nor at Uncle Bubba's Oyster House, which is a shame.  Banana pudding and Gooey Butter Cakes and Key Lime Pie are undoubtedly sweet Southern treasures, but I'm betting that a lot of diners would really enjoy a slice of sweet and crispy strudel. (This is a #TBT entry, and since I wrote it, Uncle Bubba's has been closed.  Now that's a real shame - his chargrilled oysters were to die for!)

Apple, Pear and Peach Strudel

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Line two baking sheets with parchment paper or with a silpat.

Ingredients for the Filling:

1 lemon

6 medium to large apples, Golden Delicious, or Granny Smith

3 pears, Anjou or Bartlett 

2 ripe peaches

1/4 cup zante currents

1/2 cup dried cranberries, soaked in a little Grand Marnier or other liquor of your choice

2/3 cup sugar

1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon

1 tablespoon crystallized ginger, finely chopped or 1/4 teaspoon ground ginger

1/4 teaspoon cardamom

1/4 teaspoon fine salt (table salt, not kosher salt)

Generous pinch freshly grated nutmeg

1/4 cup unsalted butter (1/2 stick)

1/4 cup all-purpose flour

1/2 teaspoon pure vanilla extract 

Prepare the filling:

Finely grate the lemon zest and set aside. Place the dried cranberries in a 1-cup glass Pyrex measuring cup.  Pour over just enough Grand Marnier to reach about 3/4 up the cranberries.  Heat in the microwave for just 30 seconds.  Remove and set aside.  Peel the peaches:  bring water to a boil in a medium saucepan.  In a bowl place cold water with some ice in it.  Cut a small "X" in the bottom of the peach.  Using a long fork, carefully place the peach in the boiling water for 1 minute, then immediately place into the ice water.  Repeat for the second peach.  Using a small paring knife, remove the skin from each peach starting at the "X".  The skin will come off very easily.  You cannot core a peach, and it is now too slippery to safely cut in half to get at the pit, so with a chef knife, carefully cut off the peach flesh on either side of the pit, similar to how the flesh is removed from a mango.  Once all the peach flesh is removed from around the pit, slice into 1/2-inch slices.  Core, peel and then slice both the apple and pear into 1/2-inch slices. Place all the cut fruit into a large mixing bowl.  Squeeze the lemon juice over the fruit, then toss fruit with the sugar, cinnamon, cardamom, salt and nutmeg.

Melt the butter in a large deep skillet over medium-high heat. Add the fruit and cook, stirring until the sugar dissolves and juices simmer, about 2 minutes. Stir in the crystallized ginger, the zante currents, and the cranberries with any remaining liquid. Reduce heat to medium, and cook, uncovered, until the fruit softens and the juices evaporate some, about 10 minutes. Evenly mix the flour into the fruit (I recommend putting the flour into a small wire strainer and gently shaking it over the fruit, this will minimize clumping); then cook about a minute more to thicken the juices slightly. Stir in the vanilla and lemon zest; and remove from the heat. When it has cooled slightly, taste and adjust the spices, if desired.  I liked a bit more cinnamon, but do not go overboard.  No one spice should dominate.  Cool completely. This can be made and kept covered in the refrigerator up to 2 days before completing the strudels.

Ingredients for the strudel leaves: 

1-1 pound box of fillo (phyllo, filo) leaves, defrosted in refrigerator overnight
1/4 cup cornflake crumbs
8 tablespoons (1 stick) butter, melted for brushing
Granulated sugar

Make the first strudel: remove the fillo dough from the box, unfold, and cover with a damp towel. Place a large piece of wax paper on the work surface, then place 2 sheets of fillo on the wax paper and brush lightly with melted butter. Sprinkle lightly with cornflake crumbs.  Now using single sheets only, repeat 4 times for a total of six stacked leaves, brushing each addition with melted butter and sprinkling with crumbs.  Be sure to keep the unused fillo covered.  (It occurred to me, while editing this to publish, that using additional layers of fillo leaves might alleviate the problem with the leaking filling.  Next time I make this, I plan on repeating the layering of fillo leaves at least 2 more times, so that I have a total of 8 or possible even ten stacked leaves. )

Place one-quarter of the fruit mixture along the long edge of the fillo stack, being sure to leave a 2-inch border. Using the wax paper as needed to help roll and fold the fillo, gently lift the bottom edge of the  stack to cover the filling and fold the side edges over. Continue to roll the stack away from you until the filling is completely sealed in and the seam is on the bottom. Transfer to the prepared baking sheet, leaving room for the second strudel. Brush the top with melted butter and sprinkle with granulated sugar.  Repeat with the second quarter of the remaining fruit and six more fillo leaves.

Bake for 30 minutes, until golden brown. Watch it carefully for the last 10 minutes (which I did not do) and if the filling is starting to bubble and leak, take it out of the oven, it is done.   Let the strudel cool down on the baking sheet, then remove from the baking sheet using a long spatula.   Let cool before slicing. While the first two strudels are baking, prepare the remaining two strudels, then bake as directed.  Any remaining strudel should be refrigerated, and a slice can be reheated briefly in the microwave to get that just-baked experience.  You can serve this beauty au naturel, with a sprinkle of powdered sugar, or go whole hog with vanilla ice cream or real whipped cream on the side.

Salad Days - In Celebration of the Wedge and the Chop

From earliest memory, until the day I left home for good at the age of 22, my grandmother served a 3-course dinner 5 nights a week.  Being able to feed her family, and as she put it, to set out a nice (read: food-filled) table every night was her raison d'etre.  

My grandmother was old-fashioned in many ways.  Born in 1907 - or 1912, if you are into revisionist history - she was a very young woman when she raised her first family, my Uncle Martin and my mother Joyce.  Whatever mistakes she made in child-rearing (their numbers are legion) she never lost the ability to nurture through her cooking.  Unlike some mothers of her generation, she really liked to cook, and she was really good at it.  Although she was filled with many resentments and endless regrets, cooking for family was not one of them.  My Uncle Marty talked about her seafood casseroles with longing.  My Grand Uncle Red, her brother, would travel on subway and the Long Island Railroad to enjoy her chopped eggplant.  She could taste a dish in a restaurant and replicate it at home for us.  Oh yes, she was that good.

If there was any time in our long, contentious relationship that we were singing in the same key, it was while cooking or eating was going on.  Food was the common denominator that drew us together, despite so many other issues tearing us apart.

Her 3-course dinners consisted of an appetizer, entree with vegetable and side dish, and dessert.  Portions were big!  Back then, I could eat it all.  Today, I wouldn't get past the appetizer.  Youth is definitely wasted on the young.

The first course was pretty straight forward - a small glass of tomato juice, half of a fresh grapefruit, one of those little shrimp cocktails that came in a glass jar, maybe a scoop of her awesome chopped liver, or a salad.  Not just any salad, but a gorgeous 50's style iceberg wedge, accompanied by mini wedges of tomato and maybe a slice or two of cucumber.  Russian dressing, homemade.  I loved that salad, and when iceberg lettuce was declared déclassé, and no restaurant worth its Himalayan sea salt would be caught dead with such an item on its menu, I was sad.  Very sad.

Eventually, I found comfort and enjoyment in Caesar salad, baby mesclun, spinach salad with hot bacon dressing, dark salad greens topped with duck breast, foie gras, or quail eggs.   I still had iceberg, albeit as the base of an Asian salad with ginger dressing at any number of teppanyaki restaurants. My guilty pleasure.

At some point in this salad evolution, I met my first layered salad and my eyes opened wide.  The variations were endless, the ease of preparation was breathtaking, and results were delicious.  Same with chopped salads, full of meat and cheese and spicy vegetables, with or without romaine lettuce.

Finally, Wolfgang Puck, that clever clever man, brought back the wedge salad (with blue cheese dressing, which I hate) and suddenly iceberg was elevated back into the stratosphere.  Fortunately, Russian dressing had never gone out of style.  As that old song tells us, anything goes.  (Sorry for the ear worm.)

Fast forward to June of 2003. I've just had my entire digestive system renovated in the hope that I would finally lose a great deal of excess weight.  I am literally craving salad.  Because I cannot absorb most nutrients at this point, I can enjoy them with full-fat dressing and still lose weight.  Russian dressing, here I come!

Eleven and a half years later, I am 135 pounds down.  Kept the weight off, although I still have to make a conscious effort to do so.  As much as I love salad, it doesn't love me.  Try as I might, that delicious bite of iceberg and dressing is not going to stay down.  And that's all I am going to say about that.  Doesn't stop me from eating salads, though - I just have to confine myself to small amounts.  Very small amounts.

If you want to serve a wedge to your family and friends, buy a whole head of iceberg lettuce at the grocery.  Turn it to look at the core.  If it is darkened or rusty in appearance, keep searching.  When you are ready to serve, rinse the head, pat dry, and using a very sharp knife, cut it in half, right through the core.  Cut each half into 3 or 4 wedges.  Place the wedge on a plate, and add whatever extra vegetables you like - tomatoes, cut into wedges, or cherry or grape tomatoes, left whole; a few thin slices of bell pepper or cucumber ; a radish.  Don't overwhelm the salad with piles of accoutrements; this is, after all, all about the wedge.

Now, as to dressing.  There are so many really good bottled dressings on the market that it seems almost silly to make your own.  My two favorite brands are Ken's (on the shelf) and Marie's (in the refrigerated section of the produce aisle.)  I find ranch dressing insipid, but apparently the rest of the world likes it.  Hidden Valley is still the best choice.

And my grandmother?  She passed away in her sleep over the Thanksgiving weekend in 2000, about a month after her 93rd birthday.  She was far gone in the ravages of senile dementia, and had been for years.  I was the last person she remembered, and the last person she forgot.  Sometimes, just sometimes, I miss her.

Because this is a cooking blog, I hate to leave you without a real recipe, so here is one of my favorite salads.  It takes longer than a wedge to prepare, but it is really worth it.  Easy to pack up for an office lunch, great for a potluck. And even I can eat it!

For the dressing, I used Ken's Lite Northern Italian.  You can make your own vinaigrette, but why?  Just asking ...

1-10 oz. bag of Italian salad mix (romaine and red cabbage), finely chopped
1/3 bag of Angel Hair Cole Slaw, finely chopped
1 large or 4 baby cut carrots, freshly grated
4 red radishes, grated
3 shallots, finely chopped
1 small green or mixed colors of bell peppers, finely chopped (I used about 6 mini-sweet peppers)
1/3 of a large cucumber, seeded and patted dry, finely chopped
8 black olives, cut in quarters lengthwise
8 grape tomatoes, cut in quarters lengthwise
1-8oz. container Cedar's brand Fresh Chick Pea Salad, or 1-7.75 oz. can chick peas, drained and roughly chopped

Thinly sliced Italian cold cuts, chopped - I used hot calabrese, pepper salami and hot capocollo, but you can use whatever you like.  I think I used a total of about 10 thin slices
shredded extra sharp Cheddar cheese - to taste
shredded Asiago cheese - to taste.  Again, you can use any cheese you like; provolone is a natural with this, as is mozzarella

Place all the salad ingredients in a large bowl and toss gently.  Add the meats and cheeses and toss again.  No doubt you can already see where you might like to make substitutions or revise the amounts uses.  Go for it, this is a virtually no fail salad.

Now just before you are ready to eat, take your portion and place it in a deep bowl.  Drizzle on just enough dressing to moisten the salad, and toss it gently.  Once you have dressed the salad, eat immediately.