Sunday, May 10, 2015

Mechitza and The Shoe Crew - Choucroute Garnie

Saturday - Back walking with a cane today.  Damn!  Oops, sorry about the cussing.  I shouldn't be cussing - I went to services this morning, and it was good.  They were good. It's all good.


All good, all the time

If you know me, and I realize you might not, you know that everything you really need to know about me can be summed up in the name of the hospital in which I was born: Brooklyn Jewish.  Never mind that I haven't lived in Brooklyn since I was nine years old.  Never mind that I've never been bat mitzvah'ed, that my knowledge of Hebrew is disgraceful, that I don't fast on Yom Kippur, and I eat all things "pig" enthusiastically, except on Jewish holidays.  The container of bacon fat and the container of chicken schmaltz share shelf space in my screamingly non-kosher fridge.  Makes no difference.  "My father was Jewish, my mother was Jewish, I am Jewish."  And I do not say that flippantly, first of all appreciating these words were among the very last spoken by Daniel Pearl, and that the late Mayor Ed Koch, one of my heroes, had those words inscribed on his headstone. 

Our friends Vicki and Dan have been living in the same house since 1977, and have belonged to the same Conservative synagogue almost as long.  During the same period of time, Rob and I have lived in seven different homes in two different states and four different counties, and have belonged to four different congregations, and three different denominations - Reform, Reconstructionist, Not-So-Egaliterean Conservative.  We are the quintessential Wandering Jews.  Formally, we identify as Reform, and for me, that was after a lot of reading, research, and soul-searching.  Reform is the most liberal denomination - the first women cantors and rabbis, counting women as part of a minyan, calling women up to the bimah to read the Torah blessings, the acceptance of Jewish members of the LGBT community into the Reform mainstream, outreach to mixed-religion families, redefining "Jewish" to include children whose father is Jewish and who have been raised as Jewish - all of that comes out of the Reform movement.  We have a very different approach to observance of the commandments, which is why I don't keep kosher but do have mezuzot hung on the doorposts of our home, as well as my office over at City Centre.




So what was I doing attending services at the South Orlando Chabad this morning?  Sitting with other women on the distaff side of the mechitza?  Me, the social liberal, the seventies feminist?  Railing against the glass ceiling, declaring that women were the last disenfranchised group in American society?  I've been ready for Hillary since 2008!  Hell, I was ready for Geraldine Ferraro in 1984! And the last time I sat separate from the men, I was at my friend Mark's brother's bar mitzvah.  It was 1972 or -73.  I was confused, but not offended.  When in Rome, or the Avenue O Jewish Center.  Besides, I had experienced separate seating, sans mechitza, at the Sephardic Temple, during the months I had attended services there at the invitation of a high school friend.  Didn't bother me then at all, but that was in my prefeminist days. 

I have to admit to having some weird Jewish throwback hangups, like my Aunt Ceil's unwillingness to eat shellfish even though she did not keep a kosher home.  First one: I could not bring myself to put on a tallit (tallis, prayer shawl) even though I wanted to in the worst way.  I have admired women's talliot wherever I saw them - in the Judaica store, in Jewish catalogs, and being worn by women at services - but it just did not feel right to actually put one on.  Second: holding a Torah during Simchat Torah festivities, although that may have to do something with my fear of dropping it, which act of desecration would require that I fast for 40 days.  However, I even found it difficult to "touch" the Torah scroll with the corner of Robert's tallit when we were called up together for an aliyah, an honor, during services or a bar mitzvah. We were the most famous husband-and-wife team since Burns and Allen; we even took it on the road a couple of times. I would chant the blessing in Hebrew, and Rob would wear the tallit, since Rob can't read Hebrew and I won't wear a tallit.

What happened is that I really wanted to go to services at the Chabad, and I knew that meant dealing with the realities of separation of the sexes. It may have helped that neither Rob nor Cory accompanied me, so none of us would feel like our family was going to be torn apart and sent to different foster homes, albeit for just three hours.  When I walked into the shul, I saw that the mechitza was made up of a long row of carefully positioned silk trees.  I liked it, very much.  Very graceful, restful on the eyes, and it did what a good mechitza should do - allowed me to hear and see the Rabbi while helping me focus away from distractions.  Everything distracts me - children's voices, chickens crossing the road, a minyan of men who cannot stand still.  I went to pray, to contemplate, to focus on the words and the rituals, and the mechitza made it possible.  Very good Shabbos, indeed.


"Shoe Crew"

The day before that, I indulged in a cooking frenzy of trief (non-kosher foods) - choucroute (pronounced "shoe crew") garnie, an Alsatian dish of specially prepared sauerkraut served with a vast variety of pork products.  If you are planning on feeding an army, this is one of those dishes that does it best.

Choucroute GarnieReprinted from "It's All About the Food"- Recipes from Inspiration Nation - 6/12/11

I first tried the recipe for choucroute garnie from a big paperback cookbook called Great Dinners from Life, by Eleanor Graves.  I remember the first time I tried it, in my kitchen in Ronkonkoma, to serve at dinner where Kathy and Alan were our expected guests.  It was fussy but delicious.  One thing I remembered was wondering why the choucroute was cooked as long as it was, and why the bacon had to be blanched first, and over the years, I made some changes which I think better represent today's tastes in food, both in terms of technique and choice of ingredients.

I have to speak about brands here as well.  You know I am obsessed on the topic of Hellman's mayonnaise and to a lesser extent, Heinz ketchup.  At the same time, I have no problem using store brands for certain items when I feel quality has not been compromised.  When it comes to the individual sausages for this dish, I have previously chosen the Usual Suspects - brands like Hillshire Farms, Johnsonville, or Hebrew National.   I think, though, that this is one of those dishes where the meats should shine, and after many years of using those familiar brands that are, for this dish, "just okay", I would like to recommend you try the brands I am recommending today, and see if you don't enjoy this dish even more.  Some of them are pricier, I admit.  But worth it.

The choucroute:
4-14.4 oz cans Bavarian style sauerkraut, drained (Silver Floss brand)
4 tablespoons butter
1-12 oz package of bacon, cut into one inch pieces
4 carrots, thinly sliced
2 large onions, halved and thinly sliced
Bouquet garnie: thyme sprigs, bay leaf, 6 peppercorns, 2 large cloves peeled garlic, lightly cracked; place in a small piece of cheesecloth and tie closed with kitchen string
1/2 cup gin
1 cup chicken or beef stock
1 cup white wine or 1/2 cup each white and red wine
1/2 cup water

The garnie:
1- 2 to 3 pound smoked pork shoulder butt (Freirich brand)
1- 1 pound ring Polska kielbasa (Hillshire Farms)
4 beef knockwurst (Boar's Head)
4 cooked bratwurst (Boar's Head)

Additional seasonings and cooking fats are indicated by underlining within the body of the recipe

Allez cuisine, y'all:

Over medium heat melt the butter in a large heavy deep pan. Add the bacon and raise the heat to medium high. As the bacon cooks, use a wooden spoon to separate the pieces. When the bacon has rendered a good deal of fat and is about half cooked, add the onion and carrots. Season the vegetables with kosher salt (not too much, as the ingredients are all salty), coarse black pepper, a touch of sugarsmoked paprika, and a small amount of cayenne pepper. Cook over medium heat for about ten minutes until the onions have softened, bit are neither browned nor mushy.


Squeeze out most of the remaining liquid in the sauerkraut, and then stir it into the bacon-vegetable mixture in the pan so that each strand of sauerkraut is coated with some of the fat. Sprinkle some caraway seeds over the sauerkraut and stir them in.


Pour in the gin, stock, and wine, and water and bring to a boil. Transfer the sauerkraut to a very large casserole dish, bury the bouquet garnie in the sauerkraut, cover tightly and bake in a 325 degree oven for 2 hours.

In a large deep pot, place the smoked pork shoulder butt (leave the netting on) and cover with water up to one inch above the pork. You can just cook the pork in water, but I like to add bay leaves, some garlic clovespeppercornssmoked or regular Tabasco to taste, and a heaping tablespoon of beef bouillon granules. Bring to a boil, then reduce heat and cover. Simmer about 1 1/2 to 2 hours. Remove from the water and let cool slightly so that you can handle to remove the netting. Also, about 1/2 hour before the pork will be done, add the kielbasa to the pot and simmer with the pork. At the same time, in a large pan, melt a couple of tablespoons of butter, with a drop of olive oil added, and slowly brown the knockwurst and bratwurst on all sides, and when done take off the heat and set aside. This will bring everything to completion at about the same time.



To assemble the dish:
Remove the casserole from the oven, remove the bouquet garnie and discard. Stir the choucroute. Arrange slices of the pork shoulder, the kielbasa ring, and the knockwurst and bratwurst on top of the choucroute. If you like you can cut the kielbasa and sausages into large chunks or let your guests do so as they serve themselves.


This dish screams out for some sort of rustic potato side dish.  Baked, boiled, oven-roasted - you can't go wrong with any of them.  Mashed - utterly sublime as an accompaniment.  I really want to be able to make potato dumplings, but in their absence, I plan on serving potato gnocchi that I did NOT make from scratch, boiled, drained, and served with shallots sauteed in butter.

I love bread with dishes like this, and I sort of imagine thick slices of chewy, crusty rye bread with caraway seeds, or a Jewish corn bread, or pumpernickel.  Lots of sweet butter.  For drinking, offer iced tea (this is the south, after all), beer, and some more of the wines used in the cooking.  My white wine was a pinot grigio and my red was a cabernet sauvignon.  Just happened to be what I had open in the house, but you can always plan ahead.


Now then - preparing this on Friday, May 8, 2015, I made some additional changes, mostly due to my  wanting to prepare a larger amount.  I used three 2 pound bags of Boar's Head sauerkraut, and increased the other ingredients proportionately.  I used 12 ounces of salt pork instead of the bacon. Instead of making a bouquet garnie, I cut up a lot of garlic and added it to the cooking onions and carrots.  I threw the thyme and bay leaves directing into the sauerkraut, and removed them when the cooking is done (the thyme leaves will have fallen off the stem).  I made up for the peppercorns by adding a lot of black pepper. I also cooked the sauerkraut for six hours on low in the large crockpot, letting it continue on warm for a couple of hours after that.  Finally, I added a couple of thick smoked pork chops in with the simmering kraut, for the last hour or two of cooking.


This time, I made the fried potato cakes to accompany the choucroute, making for a very happy combo platter.  I could also see myself making spaetzle to go with this, and one day, I'm going to figure out how to make a potato dumpling like the ones they used to serve at the German pavilion in EPCOT.

Saturday, May 9, 2015

Please Remind Me Who I Really Am - Latknishes, aka Mashed Potato Cakes

Oh oh oh, there's a place that I know
It's not pretty there and few have ever gone
If I show it to you now
Will it make you run away?
Or will you stay
Even if it hurts
Even if I try to push you out
Will you return?
And remind me who I really am
Please remind me who I really am



Elliot and Cindy Osher

(Warning: If you're not in the mood for existential blah-blah-blah, scroll down to the recipe. If you are in the mood for philosophical whining, keep reading.)


Cindy Morris (And to think those eyeglass frames are "in" again)
I've been trying to find myself for over 60 years. Who am I?  Good question.  I was born Cindy (no middle name) Osher, but in May, 1962, she ceased to exist when she (me) was adopted by my maternal grandparents. Then in May of 2013, she was resurrected.  Back from the dead, although you still can't get her birth certificate, the one that gives her parents' names as Joyce Nathan and Meyer Osher.  But you can get a birth certificate for her doppelgänger, Cindy (still no middle name) Morris, whose parents happen to be Beatrice Albert and Hyman Morris. Then on October 20, 1974, while waiting to walk down the aisle to become Cindy Rothfeld, my father, with tears in his eyes whispered, "Goodbye, Miss Morris."

Cindy and Robert Rothfeld

Pop always was a sentimentalist, and I'm sure he had no idea that less than a year later, I would go back to being Cindy Morris.

Cindy Morris, again

On April 30, 1978,  I remarried Robert, but decided to keep my maiden name at work. Which thoroughly confused a very dear lady who sometimes answered my telephone, and who for years, had told callers that this was "Miss Morris' wire."  She knew that I remarried my first husband, but wasn't going to use my married name at work, which somehow equated to her telling callers that this was "Mrs. Morris' wire."  I did tell her, gently, that Mrs. Morris was my mother, but she never did get it straight, and after a while I gave up and became "Mrs. Rothfeld."  Since she was an old-fashioned dear, this might have been her intention all along.  The marine insurance industry was not tainted by the least bit of feminism back then.  There were only two female average adjusters in the whole world, and no females working at an executive level.  It was even worse in London, at Lloyd's, where all marine insurance was ultimately connected.  Never mind that a year after I remarried, Margaret Thatcher became the Prime Minister of Great Britain; that was fine for the British Empire, but not for the Marine Insurance Division of Lloyd's of London.  Or Alexander & Alexander.  Or the American Hull Insurance Syndicate.

Robert and Cindy Rothfeld, Take Two

How did I get off on this topic? Well, that glass ceiling was part of the reason Mrs. Rothfeld went to law school in 1987.  After 3 1/2 grueling years (I worked full time), I graduated, mirabile visu!   When asked what name I wanted to appear on my diploma,  I realized that I wanted to honor my father, Hyman Morris, who had  passed away in 1983 and who would have been immeasurably proud to know I made it through law school. Enter stage left, Cindy Morris Rothfeld.  She's the one who took the Florida Bar exam and who was admitted to practice in Florida and before the Supreme Court of the United States, and she's the one who has a passport.

Cindy Morris Rothfeld at Children's Legal Services, 2012

Cindy (finally has a middle initial) M. Rothfeld is the one that signs pleadings and has appeared in court before some good and not-so-good and even the occasional godawful judges.  (One day - not today! - I'm going to indulge in a full-fledged, no-holds-barred, names-will-be-named judges rant, covering 23 years and four different counties.  Let me just say that I have personally met two U.S. Supreme Court Justices, and had the thrill of being admitted to practice before that Court during a ceremony in which all nine Justices were on the Bench.  Each and every one of the Justices was incredibly kind, and more importantly, respectful to everyone seated in their Courtroom.  Having experienced that, and also having heard Antonin Scalia tell a small group of us that Supreme Court Justices were just like regular people, and still had to put their pants on one leg at a time, I want to throw this question out there to those Florida judges who have been an embarrassment to the Bench and the legal profession: Who the hell do you think you are?  What part of "Professionalism Demands Courtesy" don't you understand?  Do you really think that a courtroom is the right place to exercise your pitiful little egos?" )

Third Place Winners at Moot Court Competition, 1990. I was still Cindy Rothfeld, and he is  Supreme Court Justice Antonin Scalia.  We were both thinner then.

Cindy Morris Rothfeld with The Notorious RBG and Cory Rothfeld, 2003

Cindy M. is the one who is winding down after a long career.  She's getting ready to rest on her laurels.  Soon she will become a living memory, not all that different from Cindy Osher.  She's there, she'll always be there, just not necessarily accessible.

The resurrected Cindy Osher with Cousin Steve Schneider, 2013
His mother and my father were siblings.  Osher siblings!  There you go ...

Now, that Cindy Osher chick is the one who is hoping to plan the First Ever Family Road Trip to Brooklyn.  She is honing to meet with a whole bunch of Osher relatives, establish family bonds, break bread together, that sort of thing.  Cindy Morris is going to tag along to hopefully see friends from high school and college and friends from the days of the glass ceiling. Cindy Rothfeld will be there as well, waving her baton and playing Pavel Chekov to Robert's Hikaru Sulu.

Cindy Osher Morris Rothfeld Morris Rothfeld née Osher

Are you following this?  I know that there are times my writing is a bit esoteric, and my mental meanderings are being understood by maybe five other people.  But I do not think it is unusual for People of a Certain Age to ask these questions: Who was I - Who am I - and, Who will I be?  That's the tough one, for me at least.  I know that I came out of the crucible of law school a completely different person.  I had a plan, a purpose, and the confidence to move forward on it.  But that was almost 25 years ago.  That law school graduate, along with the overachieving workaholic she became, is gone forever.  Thanks to fibromyalgia, I couldn't get her back if I wanted to. And I don't want to, because after Bethe died in 2013, I came to realize that overachieving workaholics do not necessarily live long and happy lives. (Perhaps it was also no coincidence that the same day Bethe died, the supervisor announced that she was reassigning paralegals to different attorneys, and that a partnership that had worked with the utmost success since 1996 was being destroyed for no good reason at all.  Having your heart ripped out twice in the same day is too much for even the strongest among us.)

I do go by one other name: "Mom"

Many years ago, a friend and colleague of mine found his practice had been negatively (and perhaps unfairly) impacted by a case in which he represented someone who had committed an unspeakable crime.  But this is a small community; emotions ran high, and memories are long.  After the dust settled a bit, he surveyed the damage, and said, "Well, I guess I'll just have to reinvent myself."  And he did, quite successfully, going on to hold an important position doing important work.  But I've had to reinvent myself too many times over the years, and I'm running out of ideas.  Then again, I'm the Navigator, so I suppose I'll eventually find where I'm supposed to be heading.

Is this what Frank Sinatra meant when he sang "I'm in the autumn of my years?"  Food for thought, and speaking of food, my big cooking plan is to make an enormous choucroute garnie, and serve these potato cakes on the side.


So I came across a recipe for something called a mashed potato latke, which caught my interest because such a thing cannot exist.  A mashed potato cake is not a potato latke anymore than Chicago deep dish is a pizza.  I reworked the recipe from scratch, and came up with something delicious.  It tastes like the inside of a good knish, and it's fried in oil like a latke.  But it's NOT a latke.  Make no mistake about that.

Latknishes

4 large potatoes, peeled, cut into cubes
6 tablespoons chicken schmaltz, butter, or a combination
1/2 cup sliced green onions, green parts only
kosher salt and ground black pepper
1 egg
6 tablespoons all-purpose flour
1/4 cup griebenes (optional)
canola oil for frying
additional flour for coating the potato cakes

Boil the potatoes in salted water until done, about 20 minutes.  Drain well. Mash together with the schmaltz and/or butter.  Don't fret if there are some lumps.  Lumpy mashed potatoes, like bow ties, are cool.  Stir in the green onions, salt, and pepper.  Let the potatoes cool down, and then add the egg, stirring  constantly until it is fully combined.  Stir in the 6 tablespoons of flour, then cover and refrigerate for several hours or overnight.


When ready to fry, heat the canola oil in a skillet over medium-high.  Form the potato cakes by using a medium sized ice cream scoop; gently drop the scooped potatoes onto some flour; flatten with a fork dipped in flour, then carefully turn and repeat. Immediately slip the potato cakes into the oil; lower the heat to medium. Depending on the size of the skillet, you can fry 4 to 5 at a time.  Drain on paper towels.  These are delicious with the usual latke accompaniments - applesauce and sour cream - but they are not latkes.  I can't emphasize that enough.


Friday, May 8, 2015

Six Degrees of Onions, No Bacon, Part II - Creamy Six Onion Soup

Still having sleepless nights, except when I pass out on the couch.  I'm taking hydroxyzine and Benadryl, which are barely affording me any relief. I am spraying myself with anti-itch sprays as lavishly as from a bottle of Cachet from Prince Matchabelli (I know, I am dating myself here.)  The itching is so brutal, I haven't really noticed that my back also hurts.  Last time the itching was this bad, I was dealing with chicken pox.  Yeah, I'm a mess.

\

Yesterday was a rough day.  Panic attacks -1, Cindy - 0.  For me, anxiety is worse than depression.  Oh yeah, I had that too.  Anxiety destroys my ability to function.  I'm not sure I can even describe how it feels.  During one of my earliest, and most severe, episodes with anxiety, I sat in a chair in the corner of my dorm room, for most of the semester.  Sat and wrote and suffered.  I was simultaneously frozen and hysterical, a condition that caused my organic chemistry professor to have his teaching assistant walk me over to the on-campus psych services, while he called over there and told them to see me NOW. (I wonder sometimes where I would be had it not been for the kindness of teachers. Let me thank them here and now - Ron Friedman, Marvin Waks, and Steve Erlich from Lawrence High School, and Professor Larry Altman from SUNY Stony Brook.  And maybe a shout-out to Professor P.D.G. Brown from the German Department at New Paltz, who took me to his office and gave me a sudafed to help with a really rotten cold I could not get rid of.  This was 1972 and nobody had ever heard of meth and other misuses.)

All of this has led me to make the decision I had to make.  Which is official, at least in my mind, since I told Rob and my therapist.  Now I just have to do my research, get my ducks in a row (no Muscovy ducks, those guys don't play well with others) and make it happen.  Not easy when the very symptoms underlying the decision are preventing me from doing research and organizing ducks.  I can do this, just very slowly.

By the way, today is May 7th - Happy Birthday to my sister Nora, and my friend Chris A.


Yesterday was not without its high spots.  I had a productive therapy session (they usually are). I went to Toojay's and picked up tongue, pastrami, chopped liver, whitefish salad, fresh rye bread and a dozen miniature black and white cookies.  I went home and ate some of the tongue.  Yes, tongue.  It was heavenly.  I also made a completely impulsive stop at the new site of Chabad of South Orlando, and spoke for a good while with the Rebbetzin (Rabbi's wife).  I have been looking for someplace to go to services, and for some reason, trying this out seems a good idea. If nothing else, it will be an interesting experience.  Although being Jewish in Central Florida has always been an interesting experience.

Don't knock it till you try it, you sushi-scarfing sissies!

This is the onion soup recipe I made using Martha Stewart's recipe as the starting point.  It is delicious, incredibly rich, and does remind me of the soup we had at the Brown Derby at Disney-MGM Studios many years ago. I tried it with one of the cheese toasts, from yesterday's post, and it was complete overkill.  I wouldn't even use the extra caramelized onions that Martha recommends, although tossing in some griebenes couldn't hurt. Save the cheese toasts for a traditional onion soup that doesn't included a stick of butter and a cup of heavy cream. (Unless, like my son Cory, you think the cheese toasts are perfect with the soup.)

Math isn't my strong point, but even I can count and yes, I know there are actually seven types of onions in this recipe.  Let me say this about that:



Creamy Six Onion Soup

3 large green onions, sliced  (if the onions are skinny, use the whole bunch, which is usually 5-6 onions)


3 oz. shallots (about 3 shallots), halved and sliced


1 large leek, halved, rinsed to remove all of the grit, then sliced, white and pale green parts only


1 large red onion, halved and sliced
1 large white onion, halved and sliced
2 medium yellow onions, halved and sliced
1 medium Vidalia, or other sweet onion, halved and sliced
1 head of garlic, cloves separated, peeled, and sliced
1 stick butter
2 tablespoons roasted garlic extra-virgin olive oil
salt and ground white pepper
sugar (optional)
6 cups chicken stock
1 cup vermouth (I only had red, so that's what I used and it was good)
1 cup heavy cream



Heat the butter and olive oil together in a large pot, over medium-high heat.  Add all of the onions and the garlic.  Cook, stirring constantly, for about 10 minutes, then reduce the heat to medium-low, add the salt, pepper, and a tiny pinch of sugar, and continue cooking for 25 to 35 minutes more, until the onions are golden brown. Add the chicken stock and the vermouth and simmer for 15 to 20 minutes.  Take the pot off the heat, and with an immersion blender, puree the onions.  Put the pot back on low heat, and add the heavy cream.  Stir well and bring up to temperature so that the soup is hot.  Do not boil it - if you boil it, you spoil it.  Serve it as is, or topped with griebenes.

My favorite photo from our tour of Carambola Gardens

Thursday, May 7, 2015

Oh, Go Stuff It - Beef Stuffed Baby Bell Peppers with Jubilee Rice and Zante Currents


I have been thinking too much, and it depresses me.  The world is a strange and scary place.  So many young people have become disaffected.  There is no such thing as patriotism among members of certain generations.  The United States have become increasingly Balkanized; people no longer identify as Americans, but as members of some other religious or racial or ethnic group just happening to live here.

All those misfits, which in another generation might have retreated to the family basement, or ended up in jail or a mental health facility or as a talking head on some cable news show, are heading to Syria to join ISIS. Imagine factoring "terrorist" into your list of career choices.

I don't think it is jingoism to consider this the very best country in the world.  There is no place else on earth I would rather be from, or return to. Unfortunately, the old "love or leave it" attitude is causing unforeseen problems as all those misfits leave it, only to join some radical terrorist group bent on our destruction.  I still tear up at the singing of the Star-Spangled Banner; I hope the day never comes that my patriotism will label me the misfit.




I wasn't planning on making stuffed peppers, but I saw these baby bell peppers when we were in BJs this past weekend, and had a sudden inspiration.  These make a particularly nice presentation for dinner guests. There are around 16 baby bells in a 2 pound bag.  They were so adorable I wanted to pinch their little cheeks, but instead I attacked them with a tomato shark.  Now, don't report me to Animal Services, just keep reading.





Beef Stuffed Baby Bell Peppers with Jubilee Rice and Zante Currants

2 pound bag baby bell peppers (not mini peppers)
1 pound ground beef
3 tablespoons bacon fat
1 small onion chopped small
1 carrot, grated
1 tablespoon minced garlic or Gourmet Garden chunky garlic paste
kosher salt, ground black pepper
granulated garlic
1 tablespoon dried tarragon
1 teaspoon dried thyme
1 teaspoon dried marjoram
4 - 8 shots of Worcestershire sauce
2 tablespoons zante currants
1/4 cup Lundberg Jubilee Rice
1 - 12 oz. bottle Heinz chili sauce
1/3 cup wildflower honey
2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice

Cook the rice in almost-boiling water for 30 to 40 minutes, then drain well. Remove the stem and core from each pepper, then shake out seeds,  Use your fingers to pull out the white veins (what the seeds are attached to), and set aside.



Use Heinz Chili Sauce for this, please

Prepare the filling:  cook the onion, carrot, and garlic in hot bacon fat until softened.  Add the beef, and cook while breaking up with a spoon.  Add the seasonings, then simmer together for 10-15 minutes.  Taste and adjust seasoning.  Don't leave out the Worcestershire.



I used pieces of carrot, parsnip, and even celery to keep the stuffed peppers upright

Stir in the rice and the currants.  Refrigerate the filling overnight, or at least for several hours before stuffing the peppers.  I like to use a demitasse spoon, or a baby spoon, to fill the peppers.  When they are filled, arrange them upright in an ovenproof baking dish or pan.  Combine the chili sauce, honey, and lemon juice and whisk together to combine. Pour the sauce around and over the stuffed peppers.  Cover and bake in a 350 degree oven for 30 to 45 minutes until peppers are tender and done to your liking.  Baste occasionally with the sauce while cooking.




Wednesday, May 6, 2015

Six Degrees of Onions, No Bacon, Part I - Reddish Onion Soup and Float 'Em If You Got 'Em Cheese Toasts

Rob and Mayan Ruins on Isla Roatan

Sunday, 3:21 AM - There is no pain, only itching. There is no sleep ...

This is so freaking maddening!  It has gone on for hours, despite the hydroxyzine.  I am about to give in and take two Benadryl, but that is sure to knock me out cold and leave me feeling stupid.

Sunday, 10:38 AM - As predicted.  Got some sleep even though I woke up at least once.  Feeling stupid.  Still having brutal itching, but I can't take Benadryl all day.  Not if I want onion soup and freshly baked bread.  I have been over-thinking the whole onion soup idea for three days, resulting in something  called analysis paralysis.  In the end, the winning recipe will be decided by the contents of my kitchen.  I am too tired to food-shop today, and besides, there are two NBA play-offs today, starting at 1:00 this afternoon.  I'm happy to see I can still set priorities.

I've been crying at commercials lately, a sure sign that I am no longer on Cymbalta.  Yesterday, Equality Florida's #Love Must Win ad had me leaking tears.

Agave Plants in Cozumel, used to make tequila

I don't feel good, folks.  This itching has been so bad, I cannot stand to have a light blanket on my legs.  This is new for me, as the itching has always been an arms and hand thing, sometimes scalp and  trunk.  I guess that goes along with my sensitivity to any kind of touch or even the lightest pressure on my skin.  I keep chasing the dogs away; Romeo is not longer smiling, while Indiana is in his own bed, glaring at me with one eye.  The only good news is that scratching my legs has not caused welts to rise.whereas my forearms still look like they spent some time passing through a meat grinder.

Anakin keeps trying to stand on my chest and stomach while I am sitting in bed,   Ouch, damn it.

Okay, about the onion soup - I was in the mood for a soup that would go down easy and stay down.  A straightforward broth, like chicken or French onion, or an uncomplicated cream soup like carrot or potato.  I kept leaning towards French onion soup, for which I have a classic recipe everybody loves, and then I remembered a four- or five-cheese onion soup we had a few times at (I think) the Brown Derby Restaurant at Disney-MGM Studios.  We're talking way back when that park first opened.  Unfortunately, I could not find the recipe, either online or in one of the four (yes, four) Disney cookbooks I have in my collection.  With all of my cookbooks, I probably have more soup recipes than Campbell's, but I was having no luck until Martha Stewart came through for me.   Her recipe for Creamy Caramelized-Onion Soup looked like it would produce a soup that would taste like the one from the Brown Derby, even though she only used three onions.

Croaking in Carambola Gardens

Monday - I'm getting tired of reading myself kvetching all the time.  So let's move right on to the recipes.  This is my variation on the French Onion Soup recipe I've preparing for 40 years.  Both are very easy; this is the one I made last night, along with a bread that I think works well as the cheese covered crouton.  First, the soup:

Reddish Onion Soup

2 tablespoons butter
1 red onion, halved, sliced thin (about 2 1/2 cups)
1/2 tablespoon finely minced garlic or chunky garlic paste
1/4 teaspoon dried thyme
1/4 teaspoon kosher salt
freshly ground mixed peppercorns (about 10 grinds)
1/2 teaspoon Cento Double Concentrated Tomato Paste (from 4.56 oz. tube)
1/4 cup white wine (I used Pinot Grigio)
2  cans Campbell's beef broth
1 tablespoon sherry

In a medium saucepan, melt the butter, then add the onion and garlic. On low heat, cook together slowly, stirring occasionally, for 15 minutes.  Add the thyme, salt, and pepper and continue to cook on low for another 15 minutes. Now add the tomato paste, stir thoroughly, and cook over medium heat for 5 minutes.

Add the white wine and stir so that the tomato paste is completely dissolved.  Add the beef broth and cook for 30 minutes. Stir in the sherry, and adjust the seasoning.  If you can, refrigerate the soup overnight.  Reheat in the microwave, and serve with the cheese toasts.


Float 'Em If You Got 'Em Cheese Toasts

1 loaf Cheese Wine Bread, sliced into 1/2 inch slices (8 or 9 slices, save the remaining bread for breakfast), recipe below
2-3 tablespoons butter, melted
grated Pecorino Romano cheese
6-8 ounces shredded cheese (Italian blend, cheddar or jack cheese blends, Swiss, Gruyere)


With a cookie cutter, cut rounds (or hearts, or stars) out of each slice of bread.  Toast lightly under the broiler on one side, first brushing the tops with some of the melted butter.  Turn the bread, brush with the remaining butter first.  Top each toast with the Pecorino Romano cheese first, and then whatever shredded cheese you choose.  Place back under the broiler just until the cheese melts.  Set aside until ready to serve the soup.  Float one cheese toast in each bowl of this soup, or on the side.


Cheese Wine Bread (Bread Machine) - from The Bread Machine Cookbook V by Donna Rathmell German

I prepared the 1 1/2 lb. loaf:

1/2 cup white wine (Pinot Grigio)
4 tablespoons butter
3 eggs
1 cup shredded cheese (I used half each Italian blend and Mexican four cheese blend)
1 teaspoon salt
2 teaspoons sugar
3 cups bread flour
2 teaspoons bread machine yeast

Place the ingredients in the bread machine in the order recommended by the manufacturer.  Bake on the Sweet or Basic setting.  I also recommend using the Light crust setting.



Tuesday, May 5, 2015

Mocked by Bananas - Soused Banana Bread

Saturday April 25 - By now, all the advance food preparation has been done, because today, this very morning, Rob and I are outta here, headed to Port Canaveral where the best Carnival ships live and sail.  Let me tell you, it was a damn close call on the food.   To put it simply but succinctly, I was mocked by bananas. So I got them drunk and had my way with them.


The original recipe is pretty darn good.  I have to assume that the author's bananas were quite a bit better behaved than my three, as she was able to hold the line with vanilla extract.


Tuesday May 5 - Now that I've returned to this post, I realize that I have inadvertently discarded my notes of the changes I made to the recipe.  I hate when I do that, but I did do it and there is nothing I can do about it.  If memory serves me correctly, and I would not want to bet  on it, the only change I made was to add two tablespoons of banana liquor.  I believe I used the full cup of sugar, as the bananas were resistant to ripening, no matter how long I gave them to do so.  I like this recipe because it is incredibly easy and virtually impossible to screw up.  It's also delicious.



  • 3 very ripe bananas, peeled
  • 1/3 cup melted butter
  • 1 cup of sugar (can use 3/4 cup)
  • 1 egg, beaten
  • 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
  • 2 tablespoons banana liquor (optional)
  • 1 teaspoon baking soda
  • Pinch of salt
  • 1 1/2 cups of all-purpose flour


  • Preheat the oven to 350°F, and coat the inside of a 4x8-inch loaf pan with no-stick spray.  In a mixing bowl, mash the ripe bananas with a fork until smooth. Stir the melted butter into the mashed bananas.

    Mix in the baking soda and salt. Stir in the sugar, beaten egg, vanilla extract, and banana liquor. Mix in the flour.

    Pour the batter into your prepared loaf pan. Bake for 1 hour to 1 hour 10 minutes (check at 50 minutes) at 350°F, or until a toothpick inserted into the center comes out clean.

    Sign at one of our stops in Belize.  

    I know you are going to be shocked, but I used an aluminum loaf pan.  It worked just fine.  


    Depression is a funny thing, but nobody's laughing.  I know it takes time for a new medication to build up in one's system, and that it can take weeks to become fully effective.  Knowing all that does not make me feel better.  In the here and now the depression is wearing down my resistance and so I am overwhelmed by sadness and ennui.  Getting out of bed has been difficult.  Sleep continues to be elusive.  Paresthesia, that terrible, intense burning and itching of the skin,  is driving me past-the-point-of-no-return crazy. Brain fog is dulling my senses and preventing me from doing even simple tasks.  Preparing the onions for today's test of an onion soup recipe is going slow; I feel clumsy using the knife.  God willing, I won't cut off anything more serious than an acrylic fingernail.

    Tropical fruit in Belize, at Carambola Gardens Tour

    Sunday, May 3, 2015

    Getting A Little On the Side - Coconut Jasmine Rice and Schmaltzy English Peas

    The AAA truck was there in no time and we were back on our way home, so forget all that boding stuff from the end of the last post.  I walked into a clean home, empty kitchen sink, and four crazed Yorkies.  The cat was a bit more reserved, but clearly also glad to see us, as was our son.  The weather is nice, and I don't miss the oppressive Caribbean humidity.  My hibiscus are gorgeous and I received two new bread machine cookbooks I'd ordered just before the cruise.  There were unopened bags of Cheesy Puffs, Cheez Waffies, and Barbecue Popchips.  It's good to be home.



    The cruise was nice.  The staff was wonderful as always, the shore excursions are a mixed review. The food on the Carnival Sunshine keeps getting better, for the most part. The kitchen still needs to work on its treatment of sauces, and for God's sake, if you are going to put super-spicy items on the menu, mark them as such!  Seafood Newburg and Bouillabaise are not interchangeable recipes and Grand Marnier Souffle does not have the same texture as Grand Marnier Bread Pudding. I'll be directing my comments to Carnival as usual.  Someone must be reading them, because Oysters Rockefeller is no longer on the menu.  


    Arriving at Cozumel

    I'm glad it worked out that one of the recipes I had ready for today's post is for English peas.  Happy Birth Day to the newborn Princess of Cambridge. Even if you are not a Royal Watcher, you must like William and Kate. They are so darn normal.  And with everything bad going on in the world, we all really need some good news.  Welcome to the world, Princess Name-To-Be-Announced-In-Due-Course, and God Save the Queen.

    This is what Amarillo looks like in Mexico

    Before we left on the cruise, I had been cooking like a lunatic, and so there were recipes that did not get published contemporaneously with their preparation.  These are two of them from my coconut milk and chicken schmaltz phase.

    I get some of my recipe inspiration from other food bloggers.  Sometimes it's just a general idea, other times I use the recipe as a solid starting point, making a few changes.  Other times, the recipes come to me out of nowhere, and I develop a lot of my recipes out of my own experience with foods and flavors.

    When it came to the rice I wanted to serve with the coconut curry chicken, I came across a particular recipe that was so perfect, I did not change a blessed thing, except to increase the amount of toasted coconut.  I had never tasted jasmine rice before, and I can't imagine why not because it is amazing, especially when cooked in rich coconut milk.  This recipe is from Jaden at the "Steamy Kitchen" blog.

    Coconut Jasmine Rice
    1 tablespoon butter
    1 tablespoon brown sugar
    1 teaspoon kosher salt 
    2 cups jasmine rice, washed and drained well
    1 - 13.5 oz. can Badia coconut milk (shake can to mix well before opening), poured into a 4-cup glass measuring cup
    1  1/2 cups water plus a small amount of additional water added to the coconut milk to make a total of 3 cups of liquid
    3/4 cup sweetened coconut flakes

    Heat butter in a medium sized, heavy saucepan over medium heat. When butter is melted, add brown sugar and salt, stir until dissolved. Turn heat to high, add rice and stir until all grains coated evenly. Add coconut milk and water. Stir. When boiling, immediately cover with tight fitting lid, turn heat to medium-low and simmer undisturbed for 20 minutes. Remove pot from heat but do not open lid. Really, no peeking! Let sit for 10 minutes. 

    While the rice is cooking, toast coconut flakes on a dry skillet over medium high heat. Stir frequently to avoid burning, remove from pan as soon as coconut is golden brown, about 2 minutes.  When the rice is completely done, remove the lid and fluff the rice with a fork.  Stir the toasted coconut into the rice, saving some to scatter on top.


    I love the combination of green peas and rice, but I did not want to detract from the whole coconut experience, so I created this little vegetable dish.  Instead of bacon, I used schmaltz and griebenes and I think it worked.  If you forego the coconut rice for regular long grain white rice, you might want to combine it with these peas.


    Schmaltzy English Peas

    1 - 6 oz. microwave bag English peas
    1 generous tablespoon chicken schmaltz
    2 generous tablespoons griebenes 
    a splash of chicken stock or broth
    kosher salt
    freshly ground mixed peppercorns
    a pinch of sugar

    Cook the peas in the bag, according to package directions, for 2 to 3 minutes.  Melt the schmaltz in a skillet, add the peas and cook until tender.  Add the remaining ingredients and simmer together another minute.


    From the Wide, Wide World of Sports:  I'm hoping Pacquaio wins tonight.  And yes that was me you heard screaming when the L.A. Clippers won the seventh game against the San Antonio Spurs.  With J.J. Reddick, Big Baby Davis, Hedo Turkoglou, and even head coach Doc Rivers all veterans from Orlando, it's the closest us Magic fans are going to get to a win.

    Monday the Clippers start the next series, against the Houston Rockets.  You know, where Dwight Howard lives and plays.  Should be fun.

    Tomorrow I have to do some serious thinking about the rest of my life and onion soup.  Oh crap, I just saw that Mayweather won by unanimous decision.  

    (I apologize for any problems you might have reading this post.  Occasionally the Blogger format takes an unscheduled trip around the Milky Way and lands on the wrong planet. This happens to be one of those days.)

    Saturday, May 2, 2015

    Reality Bites

    Saturday - This completes a baker's dozen of cruises for us on Carnival (the 14th cruise was on Norwegian in 2002 - meh) and as always, I could have used a few more Fun Days at Sea.

    Things I learned on this trip:
    1. Never ever ever order any sort of Thai dish from the menu.
    2. I can make my traditional toast to Bethe and Maurice with a Mai Tai as easily as with a Cosmopolitan.  Either way, I'm still going to cry.
    3. I can and will feel motion sick on the 4 mile tender trip from ship to shore.  Best to leave the wristbands on.
    4. Never try to make major adjustments to happy pills or neuropathy medication while on a vacation.
    5. There is no longer a good reason to get off the ship in Belize or Isla Roatan.
    6. My taste in music was canalized in the seventies.  Disco will never die.
    7. I can wear a baseball cap now.  Baseball caps are cool.
    8. Never add mussels to your seafood newburg (and as a side note to Carnival, doing so does not then transform it into bouillabaisse.)
    9. I am always going to run out of Cheesy Puffs, no matter how carefully I pack.

    I already have three posts with recipes in the hopper, including the magnificent coconut rice I should have given you before I left.  Better late than never, and you can think of it as a good excuse to make the coconut curry chicken again.

    I am coming home to more doctor appointments and a mini-procedure this week, so expect the usual degree of kvetching and complaining. Complaint Numero Uno:  We just ran out of gas despite the gauges indicating we had enough to drive another 16 miles.  This does not bode well for the rest of the week.