1000 pizza doughs

Church Ladies: The Original Fusion Cooks?

As I type this, I have a “Quick – Easy – Delicious Cobbler” in the oven.  This recipe is by O’Dene Suggs (the punctuation is hers too).  I’ve never met Ms. Suggs, but she is part of my heritage. 

While cleaning out the garage, I found what at first glance appears to be an unremarkable cookbook: “Our Cherished Recipes” published in 1993 by the Union Grove United Church of Christ.  It has bunnies on the section dividers (but, alas, no hasenpfeffer recipes).

This cookbook was a high school graduation gift from an aunt.  (I want to say Aunt Carolyn, but as my mother has eight sisters, one cannot be entirely sure.)  Flipping through the pages immediately transported me to 1983.  I was running around the church yard with my sisters at a pig pickin’—a whole hog smoking on the enormous grill.  We would grab a bottle of grape soda from the big metal bathtub, and ask a grown-up to open the cap.  We’d eat a token amount of deviled eggs and pulled pork (with Carolina-style sauce, of course), and then get a second, larger plate and fill it sky high with desserts.  In the pages of this cookbook, I can see that laden table:

Annie Ruth’s Chocolate Pies

Chocolate Chess Pies (three separate varieties)

Coconut – Pineapple Pie

Fried Pies

Pecan Pie

And it goes on.

But before the pie section comes “Main Dishes.”  It is obvious that the women who contributed to this section know how to cook.  One of the most common ingredients is “a whole chicken, cooked and deboned” with no further explanation.  (There are at least 13 variations on chicken pie.)  But, strangely, most recipes also call for at least one can of something; cream of mushroom is a clear favorite.  Casseroles are in great abundance.  “Cabbage Casserole” anyone?  Um, anyone?  There are also a suspiciously large number of “salads” containing Jello and/or marshmallows.  And fancy chefs… not the first to coat chicken with breakfast cereal: “Rice Krispie Chicken,” page 35.

I just noticed another recipe from Ms. Suggs, who I am betting had a garden. Fried Squash Patties.  But that’s for another day.  If you’ll excuse me, I’m off to enjoy some Quick – Easy – Delicious Cobbler.

(Addendum: It’s not fancy and won’t win any beauty contests, but Ms. Suggs, marketing genius and church lady extraordinaire, your cobbler was indeed as advertised.)

One Great Local Food Day

Alternate title: The Day I Became "Crazy Farmer's Market Lady"

I spent most of Sunday on my favorite pastimes: shopping for food, cooking and, of course, eating!

First, I awoke to "Mommy, I want to be awake now" at 6:40 a.m.  (Getting up early on weekend: NOT a favorite pastime, but had enough coffee to compensate, eventually.) 

Baked some whole wheat zucchini bread, in an attempt to curb the ever-growing mountain of summer squash (found the link/idea at Pink Stripes).  Not too sweet, but not savory either.  Just right, even though I forgot the raisins.

Had an awesome tomato sandwich with basil and mayo on leftover naan for lunch, with homemade lemonade. (Embarrassing fact: I had to look up how to make lemonade. Tried Paula Deen's with half the amount of sugar she recommended, and it was still too sweet for me.)

Later in the day walked to the farmer's market in Urbana (open Sundays 1-4).  I thought (alas,  incorrectly) that I would be able to keep myself from buying everything in sight if I had to carry it home.

On the way to the market, stopped to forage for some blackberries in the "wilderness" areas of the neighborhood.  Caught a few thorns, but managed to pick about a cup of little guys, which will have to do since none of the farmers had blackberries, and the fledgling bush in my backyard has yet to produce anything that looks remotely berry-like.

Then on to market.  By this time I am drenched in sweat, with purple fingers.  I am also wearing a giant yellow sun hat.  (A younger friend's brush with melanoma changed my priority order between fashionable and cancer-preventing.) 

So now I think I might officially be "crazy farmer's market lady," as I was taking photos of pretty squash, having promised my husband I wouldn't actually bring home any more.  In response to the inquiring stares, I responded, "I'm writing about this for my blog." 

I am not sure anyone actually believed me, but oh well.  At some point I guess we all become our crazy Aunt Sally* (*name changed to protect, well, me, as "Sally" knows how to use a computer).

After the walk home (during which I swear each of my arms grew about an inch thanks to the overloaded bags), I got to work on some corn chowder.  As far as soup recipes go, this one is The Iliad, so that's for another post.  And a rustic peach/blackberry tart, mostly following this King Arthur recipe.  Yes I went a little heavy on the blackberry "garnish," but darn it, I earned those suckers.  (Shannon, here's another "recipe card" for you!)

I'll post more photos and notes about some of the awesome Urbana Farmer's Market vendors soon, since this is getting long.  For now, I'll leave you with this very nice guy whose sister runs Loveydoodle Cookie Emporium.  The full-sleeve tattoos were a little incongruous with the name, but he makes a mean snickerdoodle! (Loveydoodle contact: Kelly Branthover, 240-793-2780, [email protected])

 

Yard Sale-o-Rama (Gadgets I Should Have Lived Without)

Over the years we have moved into houses with progressively bigger kitchens, so I haven’t been forced to pare down my gadgets, tools and appliances.  I did, in deference to my husband’s inexplicable loathing for it, get rid of my college toaster oven several years back.  (I think he only hated it because I used it to make cheese sandwiches with mayonnaise, which sounds gross until you try it.) 

The gadget problem began with a mixer: my first Kitchen-Aid stand mixer (ah, the memories).  I had coveted this mixer for years, and one Valentine’s Day, hubbie surprise me with it.  His friends all though he was crazy, as in “you’re-giving-her-a-household-appliance-are-you-insane!?!?”  But, he knows me well.  It was the best Valentine’s present ever. 

And so it began.  Every major holiday, birthday or anniversary, I would receive something for the kitchen.  Small things (pan scrapers, spoon holders, ramekins).  Medium things (grind-n-brew coffee maker, espresso machine, immersion blender).  Big things (set of All-Clad pans, a 14-cup food processor, a bigger Kitchen-Aid mixer).  Some of these I cannot live without.  Here are the dust-catchers:

1. The fajita set.  This was a very well-intentioned gift from my sister, who doesn’t cook.  (Her kitchen cabinets—I am not kidding—have decorative books and silk flowers inside!)  I’m not even sure I am calling it the right thing.  It has a plug, a tortilla warmer and a “cooktop” that only gets hot enough to keep things warm (not the cast iron restaurant-style fajita pan).  While it is cute, its functionality is limited to serving things requiring a fajita-sized tortilla after they’ve been warmed using another method.  We do eat our fair share of tortillas, but not enough to merit a special apparatus.
2. The crock pot.  This is my most recent gadget purchase, bought solely to shuttle jambalaya to work for an office Mardi Gras cook-off (yes, I work in a cool office).  I’ll use it for the chili cook-off later in the year, I suppose, but I don’t actually cook either of those things in the crock pot; I put them in there when they’re done (my favorite chili is vegetarian, so it doesn’t require all-day simmering).  I have a really good beef stew recipe that takes about 3 hours, but that works best on the stove, where I can adjust the heat incrementally, vs. high or low.  The only thing I’ve cooked successfully all day in this crock pot is pulled pork.  We just don’t eat a lot of “big hunks of meat.”  Maybe I’m missing something… any veg-head crock pot lovers out there? 
3. The espresso machine.  Like the next normal person, I cannot function fully before having at least half a pot of black coffee in the morning.  Sort of like my stir fry (until the good one, anyway), I just can’t make a decent espresso myself.  It tastes much better in a small Italian café, served with lemon zest and biscotti, some tiramisu and a rakish waiter.  (OK, so maybe I’m just in it for the tiramisu… a girl’s got to have some vices!)
4. The bread maker.  This one’s not actually mine to give away.  It was my husband’s before we met.  Eight years ago.  (A gift from his mother, which he swears he really did use.)  When I don’t have 24 hours and still want fresh bread, every so often I am tempted by this little seductress.  Fresh bread with one push of a button?  Now that I’ve tried hand-kneading, I just can’t go back.  The machine might be good for quick breads or breads with heavy add-ins like cheese.  Or realtors who want that “fresh-baked bread” scent. 
5. The grill pan.  We have a nice heavy non-stick one.  I like to cook with it.  The problem?  Smoke detectors!  Unless you have an industrial-grade exhaust fan, it is nearly impossible to use a grill pan indoors without alerting the neighbors.  In Maryland, it’s not too cold most of the year to grill outside, and it’s easy enough with a gas grill (I know, I know, charcoal-grilled food tastes better… but I am rather attached to my eyebrows, so I’ll stick with the gas grill for now, thanks).

Even if I did have a yard sale, I’d still have cabinets full of gadgets, or my husband would buy me some new ones to fill the void.  So, for now, I will keep them and try to find new uses for these lesser-appreciated gadgets.  Ideas welcome! 

Blackberries and red-eye gravy

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about grandparents.  I’ve seen both financial and food advice that says, basically, just act more like your grandparents and you’ll be OK.  The Cheapskate Blog advises people to save up for big-ticket items.  In the food realm, I believe it was Michael Pollan who advises eating more like one’s grandparents (though it’s been a while since I read it… it might have been Mark Bittman).  In some cases, he notes, even our grandparents have forgotten how to eat, thanks to such “innovations” as Wonder Bread.

Some of my earliest memories are foraging with my grandmother in rural North Carolina.  We would collect persimmons from her prized tree, and turnips, radishes, beets and cabbages from the garden.  My favorite time of year was the hottest days of summer, when we would walk about a half mile down our dirt road (nope, not a street) to pick the biggest, juiciest blackberries on Earth.  Or maybe they just taste that way when eaten straight from the briar patch.  We would head home with purple fingers and teeth and a multitude of scratches and welts thanks to the thorns and chiggers.  And then my grandma would bake pies.  The best blackberry pies ever made (and nothing will ever change my mind about that).

My grandmother also made real Southern food.  She percolated coffee every morning for the boys, and for the red-eye gravy with country ham (sheer artery-clogging bliss).  And she made biscuits every single day.  I don’t know how many times I watched her make them.  No measuring or tools.  Just a big bowl, flour, buttermilk and lard (although I believe she did eventually switch to Crisco, perhaps for no other reason than the canisters, once emptied, made convenient spittoons).  She mixed the biscuits with her hands while talking to anyone who would listen about whatever the neighbors "down yonder" were up to, or, if the neighbors had been too upstanding recently, she would tell dirty jokes in a stage whisper.

Now I live in Maryland, in suburbia.  I have a blackberry bush in my back yard, just planted this May.  So far it has one single berry.  I suppose it will never live up to my childhood memories—does anything, ever?—but I did see some promising wild blackberries on my running trail the other day.  Here’s to hoping the neighbors don’t mistake them for raspberries and pick them red (yep, that happened last time we had what looked like a promising crop).  Maybe I’ll actually beat the Japanese beetles to some wild blackberries this year.  I’ll eat some straight from the bush and think of my grandmother.  They don’t make ‘em like her any more.

Kitchen gadgets for healthy eating, and a Fat Cat

Putting away dishes after dinner this evening... realized I have a LOT of kitchen gadgets.  And it fortuitously occurred to me that I also had a nice bottle of 2005 Fat Cat Cabernet.  For less than $10/bottle (thanks Frisco's) it is really a good wine.  [Disclaimer: I am not a wine snob... I just know what I like when I taste it, and this cab rocks.  Plus their Web site is keeping me entertained with funky jazz tunes in the background.  I have to admit though... I chose it because, well, the label is cute.  A friend who works in marketing at a wine company told me that in this, I am not alone.]

So back to gadgets.  Here's the short list of Gadgets I Cannot Live Without for Healthy Cooking:

1. Microplane grater.  This one is always in the dishwasher.  I use it mostly for grating parmigiano reggiano.  (It's pricey, but a little goes a long way.  Adds great flavor to all the leafy greens from the CSA boxes -- try it if your family won't eat them plain.)  I also use it for zesting and mincing.  It works really well for recipes that call for minced ginger.  [Ginger tip: buy it fresh, remove the skin with a vegetable peeler, then freeze -- grates beautifully from frozen.] I caught my father-in-law, an avid woodworker, eyeing it for his workshop (the grater, not the ginger).
2. Cutting boards and a sharp chef's knife.  My husband, who still doesn't know where all the "gadgets" live after residing in this house for nearly four years, perplexed, asked, "Do you really need 14 cutting boards?"  Strictly speaking, I could live with, say, a dozen.  But cooking healthy, fresh food requires chopping.  Lots and lots of chopping.  I do have one really large cutting board, which I use for things like whole watermelons, but day to day I prefer a bunch of medium-sized ones that can fit in the dishwasher, because as much as I enjoy cooking "manually," I prefer leaving as much clean-up as possible to the machines!
3. Citrus press.  Not the fancy electric juicer, but a handheld "squeezer."  This is in the love it or hate it category.  While its only purpose is to squeeze the juice from citrus, which you could do with your hands ala Jamie Oliver, it's worth investing the $15 if you use a lot of fresh lemon or lime juice (another good way to add flavor without fat/calories), or if you have skin issues.  (I have eczema on my hands, so squeezing citrus with my hands is not only not recommended... it burns!)
4. Blender.  A good one that can crush ice.  As the weather has heated up, so have my smoothie cravings.  The Common Market in Frederick has a great smoothie bar, but I can't make it there as often as I'd like, so I tried to make my favorite "peach dream" smoothie at home.  Frozen peach slices, half a frozen banana, about a cup of plain yogurt and enough milk or soy milk to mix it up.  It's not exactly the same (probably because I didn't add sugar or honey), but it's darn close.   [Bonus: helps use up all those mushy brownish bananas... just peel, break into chunks, freeze, and you have instant smoothie starters.]
5. Flour power.  Even if I never made anything with it besides my whole-wheat pizza dough, my KitchenAid stand mixer (mixer 3.0) would be worth the investment just for the (eventual) savings over pizza delivery, and the benefit of knowing exactly what's going into this food my family refuses to live without.  I'm not the best baker, but even I can make buttercream frosting in this mixer. And real whipped cream.  As in Heavy. Whipping. Cream.

Hmmm.... seems my gadget list just took a sharp left into, um, indulgence-land with that last item.  But hey, in moderation, real honest-to-god whipped cream is better than that mystery "whip" that comes in a bowl.  So let's put it in the healthy category, because it's good for the soul.

Stay tuned for a future post on Yard Sale-o-Rama (Gadgets I Should Have Lived Without).

Leftoverama

I'm a real person, with a 40-hour-a-week job, a teaching gig on the side and a toddler... so I don't always actually cook dinner.  Tonight we had what my mom always called "pick up supper," which translates to "fix it your d#$% self!"  (Except my mother, being a proper Southern lady, would never say that.) 

Some days I want to be the 1940s housewife in the kitchen all day.  But then I think about all the other stuff they had to deal with -- husbands who never help, fighting for the right to vote or even work outside the house -- and a woman president, well, they probably never thought that could happen.  Without getting into politics, the little girl inside me screams "YES I CAN!" remembering when she was told, "you can't do that because you're a girl" when I see how close we are to a female president.  I am grateful to the women who came before and made it possible for me to choose.  I cook because I choose to... not because that's my lot in life.  Not anymore.

(On a side note, I love the yellow kitchen!)