September 11th, again - Okra Fritters, Beta Version

September 11th. I hate this day.

In past years, I have written blog posts to address the events of September 11, 2001, all full of passion and fury, pain and righteous indignation. This year, I just can't do it.  If I start, I'll get angry, and you wouldn't like me when I'm angry.

My thoughts are with you, Denise.

Rest in peace, Mike. 

And that's all I am going to say about that.

Today would have been former Florida Governor Reubin Askew's 87th birthday. One of the few honest politicians any where, any time. Rest in peace, sir.

Right to Left: Her Serene Highness, Princess Chelsea Rose, Reigning Queen of Everything; Ninja Husband; Jedi Knight and Sometime Dark Lord of the Sith Anakin Skywalker, Darth Kitten

It's a lazy day - the office of Taxman USA is closed, and Robert is out helping his mom with a doctor visit.  I am finishing the bake off of the hermit cookies; looks like the yield is 35 cookies, just under 3 dozen.  A night in the fridge did not harm them in the least.

My biggest problem today, if you can even call it that, is what to do with the okra pods I've been religiously harvesting this past week?  I really have to use them or lose them, and the time is now.  I don't want to stew them, maque choux them, or gumbo them. I don't want them playing second fiddle to tomato, corn, or butter beans; I want the okra to shine. This is their last hurrah, as the okra bush is reaching the end of its season. So I give you:

Okra Fritters, Beta Version

1 cup fresh okra pods, halved and sliced (about 3/4 cup sliced)

2 tablespoons finely chopped red bell pepper

2 tablespoons minced onion

1 cup Bisquick

1 teaspoon dry mustard

1/2 teaspoon nutmeg

1/4 teaspoon kosher salt

1/4 teaspoon ground black pepper

1/2 teaspoon dried basil

1/4 teaspoon granulated garlic

cayenne pepper, to taste

1 extra large egg

1 teaspoon Dijon mustard

1/4 cup milk

In a medium bowl, combine the Bisquick, dry mustard, nutmeg, salt, pepper, basil, granulated garlic and cayenne pepper, and whisk until the spices are evenly distributed.  Set aside. In another bowl, whisk the egg, Dijon mustard, and milk together. Add the dry ingredients to the wet, and whisk until smooth. Refrigerate covered for an hour or more.

Hold off cutting the okra until just before you are ready to add it to the batter.

Start heating about an inch of canola oil in a skillet over medium high heat. Fold the okra, red bell pepper and onion into the batter. Lower the heat to medium. Using whatever size scoop you like, carefully drop the okra batter into the hot oil, flatten them out a bit so that the okra will cook inside and fry them on each side until deep golden brown. Break one open to make sure the fritter is done all the way through. Drain on paper towels. Serve warm or at room temperature with a dipping sauce of sour cream mixed with some Gold's horseradish with beets (the red stuff).

I designated this recipe as a beta version, because it needs more work.  Developing a new recipe is an odd thing, and there are no guarantees, no matter how carefully you consider the flavor contributions of each ingredient. These fritters are good, but right now remind me of my ideal okra fritter's timid first cousin.  They are the offspring of the marriage of Bert Greene's recipe for "Ole Miss Okra Fritters" (from his book Greene on Greens and Grains - unfortunately the book is way out of print) and my ever-reliable corn fritter recipe, which I found in a Hadassah cookbook in 1977. A very good first start, and you are welcome to try them, but I know they can be even better.

Next time: Some more of the seasoning from Greene's recipe, a boost from paprika as recommended by my son, who assisted with the taste testing, a good bit more of okra because this batter can handle it, switching out the onions with green onions, and a brief sauté of the onions and red bell peppers and perhaps even the okra before adding them to the batter.

Since my okra plant is now denuded of ready-to-pick pods, this necessitates a trip to Publix for the store-bought variety.  Needless to say I will be planting more okra plants this new season.

SYNC is Sunk - A Mac and Cheese Challenge?

I am sorry to report that there is something General Motors has that I want installed in my Ford Escape: 

ONSTAR!!!

Right now, my boys and I are in the Escape, traveling to Bradenton for a special martial arts event. This is my new baby's first long trip since coming into my care, and I wanted to be prepared, so Rob signed her up with SYNC, Ford's answer to GM's OnStar. And what a wrong answer it turned out to be!

With OnStar, you get a live person who helps you with any number of travel-related issues.  This was particularly helpful when our Chevy Sonic was hit by a deer with a death wish while we were headed north on I-75 on the way to another martial arts event in Perry.  It was dark and deserted and we could not find a sign or landmark to pass on to AAA so we could be located.  Once we called OnStar, the operator located us by GPS, connected us on a 3-way to AAA, explained the situation to AAA and made sure the tow truck operator knew where to pick us up.

With SYNC, you get a computer-generated voice. The computer is hearing-impaired, and can only pick up voices from the driver's side of the car. When I am wearing my navigator's hat, I am usually sitting in the front passenger seat, so this may be a problem.  Voices with a New York accent seem to confuse it. Fortunately Cory was raised in Florida and sounds it, but I can't shlep him along every time I think I might need to use the system. Overall, it is a clumsy system to use, almost as hopeless as our old TomTom unit, code name "Mandy." You may recall that Mandy tried to send us into the Arkansas River, and refused to learn our preference for John Young Parkway over South Orange Blossom Trail, and had otherwise made a number of spectacularly poor navigating choices.  Mandy is in a drawer somewhere, but if we ever make it back to Little Rock I am going to take her along, and throw her into the Arkansas River.

We do get 20 operator assisted calls with our SYNC subscription, but I did not want to blow even one of them on an easy trip going one way on I-4 and then another way on I-75.  Next time we are headed somewhere new or distant, I'll try the operator service; if it is good, I'll look into possibly expanding the services under our subscription, which is currently quite a bit less expensive than OnStar.  Until then, in my opinion, SYNC is sunk.                   

I am not going to be cooking this evening as I expect to get home fairly late, which is to say, past my bedtime.  I do have to finish baking the hermit cookies (what you saw in the photo was the first and only batch, hurriedly baked just in time to take a picture before tumbling into the car for a long ride which is beginning to hurt my back) but that is as far as my plans go.  I got clam cakes and crab claws; what else could I possibly need? The boys are in even better shape with meatloaf, manicotti, mock choux and chicken.  Leftovers are cool.

I did come across a cooking opportunity which piqued my interest, however, and I may take it seriously. On September 26, Vintage Vino is sponsoring a macaroni and cheese challenge.  In all the years I've been cooking, and talking about cooking, and writing about cooking, I have never entered a cooking contest.  It is very local - Vintage Vino is tucked between Three Sisters and Savion's Place on Dakin Avenue, which means they are next to the parking garage for my (former) office building. Very very VERY local.  Part of the proceeds go to a local children's charity - I like that.    

The down side is that participants must prepare enough food for 100 tasters. That requires filling two large chafing dish trays, which is the equivalent of four of the aluminum baking dishes I always use, with macaroni and cheese.  That's a lot of food, but even more, it's a lot of cooking, a lot of time, and a lot of standing on my feet.  Which is why I have to give this a lot of thought.  I've got the perfect recipe, but do I have the energy and fortitude to carry it through?  

In the meantime, despite SYNC's best efforts to route us to Tampa by way of Sea World, we have landed at Dojo Martial Arts in Bradenton, and my boys are already involved in the seminar.  Grown men smacking at and blocking each other, oy.  They enjoy it, and Robert has taken a number of sparring awards over the years at ATA competitions, including 2007 World Champion in his age category.  I despise sparring -  I do like taekwando forms (poomsae)  and don't mind weapons, but I hate sparring and ground fighting with a passion.

First, I dislike rolling around on the floor with anyone I'm not married to, men or women.  I've never liked anyone invading my personal space or touching me; I am inordinately modest and overly self-conscious. I don't like other people's sweat dripping on me, and I certainly do not want to offend them with bodily fluids of my own. Before class I always took the time to clean up and deodorize, but
some people are not so considerate, and I had enough of bad breath and body odor while riding the subways to last me a lifetime.  I know, I'm a bit of a diva, but even more than that, I don't like to be hit. Getting struck with hands brings back bad memories.  Neither Robert nor Cory share my hang-ups, so they are happily hitting and being hit.  Me, I'm just along for the ride, and I've had some awesome rides in the last 10 years - lots of road trips to cities I would not have otherwise seen, so that the boys could compete.  Time for lots of knitting - so many pairs of socks knit on the road to Little Rock, Atlanta, Perry, Miami, Panama City and even Dallas.  Discovering new places to eat, the best part of road trips. Good times, good times.

This dojo is not ATA (American Taekwando Association) but part of the World Warrior Alliance: "Many Arts, One Goal, Many Paths". In addition to being high-ranking black belts, Rob and Cory also happen to be studying jiu jitsu, and their instructor is here as well. I'm curious as to how many martial art disciplines are represented here.  It's an interesting approach, one that is becoming more popular.

"Get his eyes, his eyes - show me how to break his elbow - break his jaw - cut him down." Interesting instructions. "This is how you break his neck and rip out his esophagus at the same time." Oof - these guys don't kid around!

While the men are working on their ground fighting skills, I have a table to sit at and no one is crowding me, and if I had a cup of Wawa pumpkin spice coffee and one of those Lady Hermit cookies, life would be good.  I like what the instructor is saying - "martial arts is physical, mental and spiritual."   It's true - trust me, I'm a black belt in taekwando. No, really I am. Please stop laughing.        

        

Here's my advice to all you parents - send your kids for martial arts training. It's a cold, cruel world out there. Women, too - I can defend myself if I have to. I may have fibromyalgia, but I've got two thumbs and a cane and I know how to use them.

At the end of the seminar, Rob and Cory are inducted into the WWA. Very nice.

So we finally started back home and I finally got my one-for-the-road pumpkin spice coffee at Wawa. None of my Lady Hermit cookies are available but I did snag a bag of hummus chips and a mini Chips Ahoy. For me, that's a fine dinner indeed.

More MEEEEEEMES! - The Happy Hermit Cookies

Memes.You gotta love them. Some really funny ones have popped up on Facebook, poking fun at Kentucky Clerk Kim Davis, the newest martyr to the cause of sexual preference discrimination.

In Osceola County, home of the best bass-fishing lake in the state, this might cause a riot

Just think of the possibilities

Fabulous!!! (You do know that Gillian Anderson is gay?)

And of course, my personal favorite

The mystery of the Leggy Azaleas from yesterday's post was solved by my good friend and former coworker Linda Saez, faster than you can say "mirabilis jalapa", which happens to be its official taxonomic  name. These are Four o' clock flowers, also known as the Marvel of Peru. 

They are easily grown from seed, and I can see working them into some of my flower beds.  They come in a multitude of colors, although I have to say I am partial to magenta. Thanks, Linda!

I suppose there are a number of tasks I could turn my hand to today - that upstairs hallway isn't going to get done by itself, you know - but having had a couple of decent days and not wanting to push my luck, and taking into consideration that I am going to be sitting in the car for long periods of time later today, I am going to take it easy on myself and limit activity to blogging and baking. And cleaning up after my tiny terrors. I mean terriers.  They are paper-trained, except for Chelsea who pees to the beat of her own drummer, and there are always strategically-placed pads available for their use, but sometimes they miss. Other times they get forgetful, or spiteful or even a tad snarky. Every morning is a new adventure.

I decided to bake Hermit Cookies, a favorite of mine.  It's an old-timey recipe and all cookie bakers know it and have some version they will swear is the best hermit cookie recipe anywhere.  Mine is from the 1973 edition of the Joy of Cooking, which means it really is the best hermit cookie recipe anywhere. 

This version, which I came across while teaching myself to cook by reading the Joy of Cooking cover-to-cover, caught my eye because it includes sour cream and coconut, two of my favorite ingredients. When I started baking these back in 1974, I did make one change from the original, substituting allspice for the ground cloves, one of the very few spices Robert does not care for.  Today, as a nod to the 21st century, I have upped the ante by using a better grade of cinnamon, from Vietnam (I can assure you that in 1974 we were not sourcing cinnamon from Vietnam), adding a small amount of baking powder to work with the baking soda (and you have to use baking soda with an acidic ingredient like sour cream) and using a silpat instead of greasing the baking sheet.  I've also set the batter into the fridge to chill out a bit, mainly because I use a scoop now (scoops are cool) to form the cookies, and that always works better if the batter is chilled.

Back in the day, when I first realized how much I loved to feed other people, I would bake something on the order of 50 dozen cookies which I would start in September to bring in for Christmas breakfast in the office.  The late seventies were tasty times for people who worked for Alexander & Alexander on the 34th floor at 1185 Avenue of the Americas. People who didn't really know me knew my cookies.  I still go on cookie-baking binges, albeit not frequently - my last binge was in 2005 - but the quantity and variety remain memorable.

Fold 'em, fold 'em, fold 'em, keep those raisins movin', rawhide ... 

Enjoy the cookies. And the ear worm.

Hermit Cookies from The Happy Hermit

1 stick butter, softened

1 cup brown sugar

1 extra large egg

1/2 cup sour cream

1 1/3 cup sifted flour

3/4 teaspoon cinnamon

1/2 teaspoon allspice

1/4 teaspoon baking soda

1/2 teaspoon baking powder

1/2 cup raisins

1/4 cup chopped nuts (any one or combination)

1/4 cup shredded coconut (I chop the shreds a bit)

Cream together the butter and sugar.  Beat in the egg and the sour cream.  In a separate bowl, sift together the flour, baking soda, baking powder and spice.  Add the flour mixture to the butter mixture in thirds, beating well after each addition.   Fold in the raisins, nuts, and coconut.  Cover and refrigerate for at least an hour.

Preheat the oven to 375 degrees. With a medium cookie scoop, portion 12 cookies on a baking sheet, either greased, sprayed, or silpatted.  These cookies spread quite a bit, so do not place them closely together, and do not try to fit more than 12 cookies at a time.

Bake for 13 to 15 minutes. Remove the cookies from the oven and let them sit on the baking sheet for an additional 5 minutes. with a spatula remove them to a wire rack to finish cooling.  

I think I should rename these "Lady Hermit Cookies" as they are more delicate than the hearty versions those Cape Cod sailing wives would pack up for their men heading out to sea. As delicious as ever.

An Appealing Proposition: Now It Begins - Jewish Sweet and Sour Meatballs

Yesterday was about architecture, today is about horticulture. First, can anyone help me identify this pretty plant?  Besides resembling a leggy azalea, those little magenta flowers give off a delicious scent.

Towards evening the flowers close up

Ready for a good night's sleep

They are so pretty, next to the plumbago

If you happen to know what they are called, please let me know.  Thanks!

I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.
A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
Against the earth's sweet flowing breast;
A tree that looks at God all day,
And lifts her leafy arms to pray;
A tree that may in Summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair;
Upon whose bosom snow has lain;
Who intimately lives with rain.
Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree. - Joyce Kilmer

I love trees, especially our big gorgeous 120-year old trees, and I love this poem.  And that's the end of today's horticulture lesson, except to remind you that you don't have to hug a tree to love a tree.

The State of Florida's Division of Retirement, in its infinite wisdom, politely advised me of its intention to decline my application for disability retirement, but offered the opportunity to present additional information before a final decision is made. Of course this coincided with one of my providers going out on a two week vacation, which is causing a bit of a time crunch, but I'm working on getting his input, as well as some updated info from the others.  Truthfully this is very frustrating - why are medical doctors so reluctant to commit the fact of total disability to paper?  They will verbalize to me that clearly, I cannot return to work in the near or even far future (remember my age), but when it comes to filling out forms, they start hedging their bets.  I suspect that they do not want to be perceived by any government agency as helping to perpetrate a fraud.  I get that and respect the position they are in.

I could just throw up my hands and change my application status to just retirement, but I really am permanently disabled (put me back in a courtroom and see how long it takes for my mental acuity to dissolve along with my ability to stand on my feet for hours), and I still have to deal with this issue in my application for Social Security disability.  State AND Federal - I feel like the Queen of Red Tape.

I will follow up with whatever additional documentation I can obtain, and leave in the hands of the state. Yeah, I know - I'm screwed.  At least I tried.  I also spent close to an hour on the phone today with a staff member at the agency that is helping me deal with the social security disability filing, a whole different ballgame. For one thing, my doctors are not put in the uncomfortable position of having to render an opinion on whether I am personally disabled.  That decision is made by whoever is tapped to review the medical records, and those records can include anyone who has treated me in some way for the conditions underlying the disability (and I had quite a list).  So, we shall see ...

Medication Madness: Now on the fourth medication prescribed to address my depression and anxiety, I am finally seeing (or feeling) some positive results. Or at least I thought I was. Probably I am. The depression and anxiety have abated somewhat, although I can feel them hovering pretty close to the surface. This is just this past week - four days, maybe, after a month on the oddly named Fetzima, which is a good name for a belly dancer, but an antidepressive?  So, as they say, the jury is out on this one. Time will tell ... what? Time will tell what? Some cliches are even boring to me, and I admit my writings are cliche-ridden even on a good day.

Anyway, my doctor asked if I have any side effects from the Fetzima, and so far I don't except I'm feeling a bit snarky and I've turned into a motormouth.  Also, the filters are gone, which means if someone annoys me, I may respond in kind and throw in an elbow strike for good measure.  (No, I'm not going to court to deliver some frontier justice, so stop asking me.)  This is a sort of weird side effect, because sometimes it feels like I am floating in the air, giddy as a schoolgirl, but that never lasts and I always return to earth with a bit of a crash.  Mini Mood Disorder?  Lucky me.

I was going to write a rant about basic personal modesty, breast-feeding in public, and when body-shaming is not necessarily a bad thing, but I need to give that more thought. I am not cooking today, as it is the last thing I need to do - besides having an inordinate amount of cooked food in the fridge, my entire back hurts, with my lower back feeling like it's on fire - but feeling guilty, I am recycling a recipe from 2011, from back in the day I maintained separate but related blogs for discussion and for recipes. This one is fun and easy, and you've probably seen it or eaten it sometime in the past.

From June 13,  2011 "It's All About the Food" - Jewish Sweet and Sour Meatballs

If you are Jewish, chances are you have eaten these, especially around Rosh Hashona.  Don't turn up your nose at the ingredients - it works.  This is my version of the dish, and you will notice there is no grated onion in the meatballs.  You don't need it for this dish, and who wants to grate an onion on a weeknight?

Meatballs

1 3/4 pounds lean ground beef

1 egg

cornflake crumbs (about 1/2 -3/4 cup)

kosher salt, pepper, granulated garlic, onion powder, Emeril's Essence

Mix everything together and make 15 meatballs from the mixture.  Put in a baking pan and bake at 350 degrees for 15 minutes, or just until the meatballs start to firm up.  They will finish cooking in the sauce.

Jewish Sweet and Sour Sauce

3 - 12 oz. bottles of Heinz chili sauce

1 - 18 oz. jar of Welch's grape jelly

juice of half a lemon (or more to taste)

2 shots of Worcestershire sauce

2 drops of Tabasco sauce (or more to taste)

kosher salt, black pepper, granulated garlic, Emeril's Essence - all to taste

2 handfuls of raisins

Empty the chili sauce into a medium deep pot or Dutch oven.  I like to put a little water in each jar, and shake to get all of the sauce on the sides, then add it into the sauce in the pot.  Then take about half of the jelly and add it to the sauce.  On medium to medium- high heat, bring the sauce to a simmer so that the jelly melts.  Add the remaining ingredients.  Taste and add more of the grape jelly if you like to get the right balance of sweet and sour.  I add about half of what is left in the jar.

Carefully add the meatballs to the sauce.  Cover the pot and simmer for 1 1/2 hours.  Serve alone, with challah, or over rice.

The color is off a bit - should be closer to a cranberry color - but the taste is delicious, and a nice change from meatballs in Italian red sauce.  Very easy to make and they will taste even better the next day.

Please enjoy  ;-)

A Walkabout Among Kissimmee Architecture - Creamy Pine Nut Chicken

Today is still Labor Day and I'm playing catch up with the blog posts.  I'm also trying to work my way through tasks on my list, and while I've made good progress on the cooking projects, the cleaning projects are another matter.  I feel like I am a full half day behind myself, and that is resulting in a small but definite panic attack.

In yesterday's blog post I made a brief trip past Lawrence High School in Cedarhurst, my educational home for four mostly happy years.  While doing a bit of googling on my old stomping grounds, I discovered that my alma mater has a school motto.  I don't remember a school motto, so it must be a more recent innovation, but when I read it, it gave me definite pause: "Vestigia Nulla Retrorsum" literally, "I never retrace my steps" or "No Stepping Back". Ha! The course of my entire life might have been different if it had been subject to that train of thought, said the woman who remarried her first husband. (Unlike Kentucky Clerk Kim Davis, I've been married only twice, and both times to the same husband.)

Less specifically, I take it to mean "don't dwell on the past", or maybe "don't make the same stupid mistakes."  Certainly my remarriage was the farthest thing from a stupid mistake.  But I do tend to dwell on the past, excessively, obsessively, and that leads to panic attacks and getting stuck on stupid - I should say stuck on "Stop".  Sometimes I get so wrapped up in what I haven't accomplished in the proper linear order that I can only look backwards, which just compounds the problem. That's what I am trying to avoid today, this Labor Day.  Move forward and keep moving.

I set one task for myself for today, which was to clean and set up the upstairs hallway.  As soon as I came downstairs, I realized there were two or three important things ahead of it, which meant I might not get to it, which sent me spiraling into an anxiety attack.  Crap. 

But I take heart from the completion of those other tasks which were just as important, and much more immediate, and that thought helps me beat the panic back down where it belongs. And there's always tomorrow; it's not like the upstairs hallway is going to disappear by falling into the time-space continuum. Besides, Cory made progress on moving a few things from the hallway, which makes my job much easier.

Whatever you do, DON'T BLINK!

So as the afternoon shadows grew long and my energy level grew short, I gave up on the hallway and went on a walkabout. My daily walk is critical to my health - I get up, I get out, I breathe reasonably clean air. I listen to music, I admire the landscape and architecture, and I think. Bipedal meditation. I have to use my cane, and my speed walking days are over, but that little bit of exercise is officially my daily cardio.  It's all I can do and I'm doing it.

The Weeping Angel of Kissimmee

I altered my route slightly and got photos of some of my favorite places. These buildings, which are behind the new courthouse, are off the beaten path and if you don't know they are there, you will miss them altogether.  Prior to 2000, there was nothing but a badly-paved parking lot with enormous trees where the courthouse now stands, and the objects of my architectural affection were easily visible, but now, tucked between the back of the courthouse and the railroad tracks they are the purview of seekers of the arcane. Like me.

The Weeping Angel spends her days in front of this absolutely fabulous building on Vernon Avenue -

- which happens to be a lovingly restored home turned into a law office.

A goodly number of the homes in the area, including mine, have housed law firms at one time or another, although I'm not sure of the ratio of law office to private home.

Many private homes are well-maintained -

- some not so much, although this house is architecturally incredible -

- or not at all, although this may be a forgotten victim of Hurricane Charley.

This one was a law office when I first saw it; now it is a residence. To its left is a law office. Across the street is the Weeping Angel law office. We are nothing if not "mixed use" zoning in Historic Downtown Kissimmee, which in my opinion is one of the things that makes this area so charming.

This fantastic wreck - literally on the wrong side of the tracks on Vernon Avenue - has a twin that is a law office. Although the beautifully restored and maintained twin building fronts on Emmett Street, it sits on the corner of - you guessed it - Vernon Avenue. It's no mistake that before the new courthouse was built and Courthouse Square created, the old courthouse address was 12 South Vernon Avenue.

And we could park, in precious 1-hour spots, right in front of the courthouse.

One of these days, I'm going to get brave enough to cross Emmett Street on one of my walks, to check out the great buildings on that side.  But, that is another blog post. I hope you enjoyed this walkabout.

This recipe is inspired by James Nair's Creamy Almond Chicken recipe, from his cookbook called, appropriately, Chicken. I don't remember the year of publication, but I do remember typing the recipe into my personal collection in 1990. It's a neat little book.

Mr. McNair's recipe called for 12 oz. of fettuccine, cooked, and some pesto sauce and/or spaghetti sauce for serving.  I love pasta, but it always soaks up way too much of whatever sauce I've prepared, so I tried this with a layer of some of my favorite vegetables instead.

Creamy Pine Nut Chicken

1 stick butter, melted
2 teaspoons celery salt
1 1/2 teaspoon oregano
2 teaspoon paprika
1 1/2 teaspoon curry powder
kosher salt
ground black pepper
2 1/2 pounds boneless, skinless chicken breasts (3 large breasts)
flour
1/4 cup pine nuts
1 1/2 cup half and half
1/2 cup sour cream
1/4 cup sherry

Cut the chicken in half, horizontally, to make 6 thinner cutlets. Combine the butter, celery salt, oregano, paprika and curry powder, and add salt and pepper to taste.  Set aside.  Dredge the chicken in flour, then roll in the flavored butter.  Arrange the chicken pieces in a baking pan. Scatter the pine nuts over the chicken, and then pour the half and half over the top.  Cover the pan with foil and bake in a 350 degree oven for 50 minutes.

Arrange the cooked chicken on top of the vegetables.  Add the sour cream and sherry to all of the cooking liquid from the chicken and whisk together until smooth. Pour this mixture over the chicken (try not to dislodge the pine nuts) and bake uncovered until tender, 15 to 30 minutes more.  Baste the chicken once during this time.  Serve with the vegetables.  If you have extra sauce, you can ladle it over a small side of pasta or rice.  Or egg noodles which go great with a creamy sauce.

Vegetable Layer - Prepare this before the chicken:

1 - 10 oz. package frozen broccoli spears, defrosted and partially cooked (about 4-5 minutes in the microwave is more than enough)

1 Japanese eggplant, sliced thin

1 yellow bell pepper cut into strips

1 shallot, minced

4 cloves garlic, minced

2 tablespoons butter

1/2 pound white button mushrooms, sliced

In a deep baking dish arrange the broccoli spears, then sprinkle with some kosher salt and black pepper. In a skillet, heat a few tablespoons of extra virgin olive oil.  Add the eggplant in a single layer and fry over medium-high heat until just a bit brown and crispy on both sides.  With a slotted spoon, remove from the skillet and spread over the broccoli.  Add the peppers to the skillet and cook for a minute or two.  Add the shallot and garlic and cook another few minutes, just until the garlic is fragrant. Be careful not to burn the garlic.

Lower the burner heat to medium.  Add the butter to the skillet, and then add the sliced mushrooms. Cook for 10 minutes or until the liquid released by the mushrooms has evaporated and the butter is mostly absorbed.  Spoon the cooked mushrooms over the other vegetables, and then set aside this baking pan.

The finished dish, combining vegetable with chicken

The Rain in Spain - I Did Them My Way Clam Cakes

Today is Labor Day, a rite of passage holiday always symbolic of new beginnings.  For us New Yorkers, the official end of summer and beginning of a new school year; for many of us, the start of a new job (I think I mentioned that I had started half the jobs of my life the day after Labor Day); for those of us who are Jewish, a reminder of the period of introspection that is represented by the Days of Awe and our upcoming New Year; for all us baby boomers, the requirement to sit respectfully and watch the entire Jerry Lewish Muscular Dystrophy Telethon; and for me personally the thirty-third anniversary of The Collapse of the Living Room Ceiling at my parent's house on Daniel Street, which occurred during, you guessed it, the Jerry Lewis Telethon. Why this sticks in my head - besides the mess, which was normally never tolerated in that sterile house - was that just as all the sheetrock came crashing down onto my mother's pristine orange carpet, the phone rang for me. It was one of my Lawrence High School classmates, a young man I'd been kind of sweet on, and I had to give him the bum's rush to get off the phone and help with the ceiling post-mortem. Knowing how I was back then, I probably gave him some flippant, disjointed, self-important explanation that failed to convey my delight at his call and my regret at having to cut him short.  Since I was leaving for my sophomore year at New Paltz the next day, I would not be able to easily receive or make a return call, and so we did not speak again. Ever. I told you I was my own worst enemy.  I'm pretty sure he did not attend our  high school's 20th reunion, and I did not attend the 25th, 30th, or 40th.  I'm not even sure there was a 30th, but if there was, I wasn't there. Ah youth!  Not only wasted on the young, but positively misspent and squandered.

While Al Gore and Mark Zuckerberg made it possible for me to reconnect with a great number of Lawrence graduates, he was unfortunately not one of them.  Wherever you are, Richard Nilsson, I hope you are well and enjoying a wonderful life. Sorry for being so abrupt with you on Labor Day 1971, but my social skills were pretty darn shaky back then. (They are a little better now, if you discount my tendency to live like a 21st century hermit.)

Sunday - Yesterday was Clam Fail 2.0, but I am determining to overcome the damn clam.  We shall overclam? Actually, I am beginning to wonder if this is all about the pan, rather than all about the clam.

I was preparing to publish a successful recipe, including photos of the GBD (golden brown and delicious) clam cakes when the unthinkable happened yet again.  While frying gently, the clam cake began to disintegrate, so that all the lovely potato-clam filling slid noisily into popping oil, leaving a crispy panko shell behind. I really could not figure out why, and it was late, so I covered the clam mixture and shoved it none too graciously in the refrigerator for an overnight rest.  

This morning, as I approached the refrigerator, it occurred to me that maybe this had nothing to do with the recipe, which should have worked, and everything to do about my used of a cast iron pan.  I admit to grasping at straws, but in any event, I pulled out a nice heavy nonstick skillet and started heating up more canola oil. I also decided not to try to coat the outside with crumbs or flour; the potato-clam mixture is fragile, even after a sleepover in the fridge, and I was hoping that the less I handled it, the more likely the success. 

Here's your ear worm, duckies - "The rain in Spain stays mainly on the plain ... by George, she's got it!" Yep, I got it.

So - they held together just fine - the texture is beyond delicate; I wish I could have used the panko, but these little cakes could not have withstood the additional handling. As it is, I had to remove them from the frying pan after the initial browning so that they could be finished in the oven.  Timing is critical, both in the skillet and in the oven.  The flavor is absolutely wonderful, and I really consider these clam cakes to be a great success.  You taste each and every element.  If food could sing, this would be a perfect harmony.

There happens to be a recipe for an accompanying sauce in The Nero Wolfe Cookbook, but I keep vacillating as to whether I should prepare it. It's easy enough, and I have the ingredients at hand.  It may depend on which chicken recipe I decide to prepare, as I don't want to overly-replicate creamy textures and dairy-based sauces. 

Hello, my back is breaking. Breaking bad. Badly. I've decided on the chicken recipe - and it does eliminate the clam cake sauce from the menu - but I am going to have to wait before I do any more standing. The Creamy Chicken with Pine Nuts is, as they say, another day another blog post.

I Did Them My Way Clam Cakes

4-6.5 oz. cans minced clams, drained (keep the clam juice for another recipe; I froze mine)

4 large potatoes

1/2 cup cream

4 tablespoons butter

3 tablespoons finely minced shallot

1 teaspoon parsley flakes

1/2 teaspoon Old Bay Seasoning

1/2 teaspoon kosher salt

1/4 teaspoon white pepper

1/4 teaspoon black pepper

1/4 teaspoon dried oregano

1/4 teaspoon dried marjoram

dash of cayenne pepper

2 extra large eggs

1 cup all-purpose flour

Canola oil for frying

Prepare mashed potatoes from the potatoes, cream and butter.  Use a hand masher, but do try to eliminate lumps.  Add in the clams and the remaining ingredients, up to and including the cayenne pepper.  Set aside to cool to room temperature.

Whisk the eggs until frothy, then stir them into the room temperature potato mixture until fully incorporated.  Add the flour, stir well, cover and refrigerate overnight.

The next day, heat the canola oil in a large non-stick skillet.  Using an ice cream scoop (the type with the lever to release the contents) carefully place three scoopfuls into the hot oil.  Let them cook, undisturbed until the bottom is lightly browned and crispy.  Now, very carefully turn over each clam cake and ever-so-gently press down with your spatula just barely enough to flatten the side against the pan.  Cook undisturbed until that side is also lightly browned and crispy.  Move each clam cake to an aluminum baking dish.  Repeat until all are done; you will have between 24 and 26 clam cakes.  Place the baking pans into a 350 degree oven for 15 to 30 minutes, until the clam cakes are hot inside.  Serve immediately.

Commercial accompaniments can include Kraft Horseradish Sauce, McCormick or Hellmann's Tartar Sauce, or McCormick's Cocktail Sauce. A couple of tomatoes from my garden wouldn't hurt either.