Mothers' Day 2017

It has been a while since I discussed the origin of Mother’s Day and thought it was time for a refresher.

Ann Jarvis, in 1907, wanted to establish a National Mother’s Day in honor of her mother who worked in West Virginia to improve the health and sanitary conditions of that state before the civil war. During the war she declared neutrality for her organizations and regularly aided soldiers in need on both sides of the struggle. Ms. Jarvis persuaded her mother’s church in Grafton, West Virginia to celebrate Mother’s Day on the second anniversary of her mother’s death, which happened to be on the second Sunday of May.

Not content to rest on her laurels, Ms. Jarvis and her supporters began to write to ministers, businessmen, and politicians in their quest to establish a national Mother’s Day, and in 1912, the Mother’s Day International Association was incorporated for the purpose of promising the day and its observance. In 1914, President Wilson made it official by proclaiming it a National holiday to be held on the second Sunday in May.

In planning my menu for Mother’s Day I could not help but see the nice appetizer in the May issue of ‘Southern Living’ using deviled eggs and asparagus. Also since we have snow peas galore I choose my favorite snow pea recipe which I had used before but is good enough to use again.

Happy Mother’s Day!

‘Southern Living’ May 2017

Deviled Egg Salad and Asparagus Tartines (an open faced sandwich)

Serves 8

6 hard cooked eggs, peeled

3 Tbsp. mayonnaise

1 Tbsp. Dijon mustard

1 ½ tsp. finely chopped fresh dill

1 ½ tsp. finely chopped fresh chives

2 scallions, finely chopped

2 tsp. dill pickle brine or fresh lemon juice

1 tsp. hot sauce

½ tsp. kosher salt

½ tsp. black pepper

1 lb. asparagus

3 Tbsp. salted butter, at room temperature

8 white sandwich bread slices, crusts removed, toasted

Using a fork, finely crush eggs in a medium bowl. Stir in next 9 ingredients.

Bring a medium saucepan of salted water to a boil over high. Fill a large bowl with ice water. Cut tip ends of asparagus spears into 4-inch lengths (the same length as the bread slices); reserve remaining spears for another use. Cook asparagus tips in boiling water until tender-crisp, 30 seconds to 1 minute; drain. Place in ice water; drain and pat dry.

Spread the butter evenly on toasted bread slices; cut bread slices in half lengthwise. Spread egg mixture evenly over butter; top with 2 or 3 asparagus tips. Serve immediately, or cover with damp paper towels, and chill up to 1 hour.

 

Rice Salad with Sugar Snap Peas, Mint and Lime

6 servings

Bring to a boil in a small saucepan 2 cups water and 1 teaspoon salt.

Stir in 1 ½ cups rice, reduce heat to low, cover 15 minutes. Let stand 5 minutes, fluff with fork and cool completely in a large bowl.

Cook in boiling salted water, 2 cups sugar snap peas, for one minute. Dain and rinse under cold water.

Mix into rice:

½ cup chopped fresh mint leave

½ cup chopped green onions

3 tablespoons olive oil

2 tablespoons fresh lime juice

2 tablespoons julienned peeled fresh ginger

1 teaspoon sugar

Cooked sugar snap peas

Salt and pepper to taste

Delicious and decorated with flowers and mint; it is a winner.

 

 

Weekend Tenderloin Tapa, Spiced

As my husband and I continue on our low-carb diet I am looking for ways to prepare meats and vegetables. I received a new magazine called ‘Milk Street’, named after a street in Boston, and founded by Christopher Kimball who founded Cook’s magazine in 1980. It is a magazine of techniques and methods but I find these very useful as I continue on my cooking journey.

In the U.S. we have reduced tapas to almost anything served in a small plate, but in Spain it is as much about the experience as the food---simple bites with big, friendly flavors, consumed with others. These pork tapas are from the Basque region of Spain, where skewered meats are a common pintxos, as tapas are known there. Loosely translated as “Moorish bites impaled on thorns or small pointed sticks,” pinchos morunos is a dish of seared pork tenderloin rubbed with a blend of spices, garlic, herbs and olive oil. The recipe dates back generations, boasting influences from Spain and North Africa.

This tenderloin is cut into small cubes, so it cooks quickly. It gets deep flavor in little time from a seasoning rub. Classic versions skewer the meat, which is seasoned with ras el hanout, a Moroccan spice blend. This recipe does not use the ras el hanout which can be found in most grocery stores these days but went with a blend of cumin, coriander, and black pepper. A bit of smoked paprika added a Basque touch. Adding a bit of honey worked well with the pork. The beauty of this little tapas is it can be served over rice, served in lettuce cups, or with some steamed or roasted vegetables.

I loved this recipe because it was fast and tasty and something different from your usual pork. Good enough for company! It would be perfect for a cocktail pickup at a Kentucky Derby party or a Cinco di Mayo party.

 

From ‘Milk Street’ Magazine, Charter Issue, Fall 2016

Pinchos Morunos

(Spanish Spice-Crusted Pork Tenderloin Bites)

Serves 4

1 ½ teaspoons ground coriander

1 ½ teaspoons ground cumin

1 ½ teaspoons smoked paprika

¾ teaspoon each kosher salt and coarsely ground black pepper

1-pound pork tenderloin, trimmed and cut into 1-to-1 ½ -inch pieces

1 tablespoon lemon juice, plus lemon wedge for serving

1 tablespoon honey

1 large garlic clove, finely grated

2 tablespoon extra-virgin olive oil

1 tablespoon chopped fresh oregano

In a medium bowl, combine the coriander, cumin, paprika, salt, and pepper. Add the pork and toss to coat evenly, massaging the spices into the meat until no dry rub remains. Let the pork sit at room temperature for at least 30 minutes and up to 1 hour. Meanwhile, in another bowl, combine the lemon juice, honey and garlic. Set aside.

In a large skillet over high heat, heat 1 tablespoon of the oil until just smoking. Add the meat in a single layer and cook without moving until deeply browned on one side, about 3 minutes. Using tongs, flip the pork and cook, turning occasionally, until cooked through and browned all over, another 2 to 3 minutes. Off the heat, pour the lemon juice-garlic mixture over the meat and toss until evenly coated, then transfer to a serving platter. Sprinkle the oregano over the pork and drizzle with the remaining 1 tablespoon of oil. Serve with lemon wedges.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Brussels Sprouts

Brussels sprouts season is coming to an end, according to my husband, so I thought I could get in this last article before it ended. They do not do well for us in the garden, but we do love seeing them in the stores when in season.

Done well, roasted Brussels sprouts shine with a balance of sweet and savory, but nailing that perfect balance calls for a long stay in a hot oven. Even if you are willing to put in the time you can be disappointed because they can become bitter and dry.

I found a new way to do these sprouts which uses less time and lets them turn out properly charred and delicious. The secret is a cast-iron pan. The pan takes some time to heat up, so you have some time to make a simple sauce to go over the Brussels sprouts. The sprouts are tossed in olive oil and a little honey to boost the flavor and retain their moisture. Also the use of garlic and anchovies added a meaty flavor to the sprouts. Adding some honey at the end of the cooking locks in the moisture and makes the sprouts tenderer.

You must use a cast-iron skillet since a stainless steel skillet does not hold the heat well enough to properly char. You need a 12 inch skillet so they will have plenty of space. Use small to medium sprouts since the big ones take too long to cook. If you do this you will have a wonderful Brussels sprouts recipe that you can use over and over. They are really good!

 

Charred Brussels sprouts

Serves 4

Start to finish: 25 minutes

1 pound small to medium Brussels sprouts, trimmed and halved

4 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil

4 teaspoons honey

Kosher salt

4 garlic cloves, minced

4 anchovy fillets, minced

Red pepper flakes

2 teaspoons lemon juice

In a large bowl, toss the sprouts with 1 tablespoon of oil, 2 teaspoons of honey and ½ teaspoon of salt. Set aside.

In a 12 inch cast-iron skillet, combine the remaining 3 tablespoons of oil, the garlic, anchovies and ¼ teaspoon of pepper flakes. Set over high heat and cook, stirring occasionally, until the garlic begins to color, 3 to 4 minutes. Scrape the mixture, including the liquid, into a bowl and set aside.

Return the skillet to high heat. Add the sprouts (reserve the bowl) and use tongs to arrange them cut side down in a single layer. Cook, without moving, until deeply browned and blackened in spots, 3 to 7 minutes, depending on your skillet. Use the tongs to flip the sprouts cut side up and cook until charred and just tender, another 3 to 5 minutes.

As they finish, return the sprouts to the bowl and toss with the garlic mixture, the remaining 2 teaspoons of honey and the lemon juice. Season with salt and pepper flakes.

 

 

 

 

Dewberries

When the dewberries come in you really know it is spring. I was reading an article about dewberries written about 10 years ago and the title was, “Are dewberries worth the trouble?” The dewberry picker who has just finished a morning rooting through brambles only feels like it is worth it if there is a dewberry cobbler within a few hours of picking!

Although the berry is smart enough to have survived for centuries in the wild, it cannot survive the modern fruit packing process. Dewberries are a cousin of the blackberry, and long admired for their tenacity and sweetness. The thick and thorny brambles are usually found on untended land, like the right side of way along state roads and railroad tracks, and often have a healthy collection of worms, fire ants, spiders, and spittlebugs. (Add barbed wire on our farm.)

At the start of the 20^th century, the berry was well known and loved. Texas began including the dewberries along with blackberries in the 1900 census, and the crop increased over the next 30 years, especially far north and along the sandy eastern counties.

During the 1940’s, Texas moved almost 3.5 million quarts of the two berries each year, but the crop slowly declined when packing became more prominent after World War II. Even though the dewberry is sweeter and larger than the blackberry, the dewberry fell out of favor as supermarkets began selling frozen or canned produce, or even fresh fruit out of season.

Southern dewberries, or rubus trivialis, are often called running blackberries because their vines creep along the ground, continually replanting and regrowing without help. Although dewberries were always around, they did not begin to grow rampant on these shores until the first European settlers deforested parts of the land for pasture, clearing the way for the brambles to grow.

William Shakespeare has the first know reference to the work “dewberry” in his comedic fantasy, A Midsummer Night’s Dream, when the fairy queen Titania falls into a love potion-induced spell for the foolish weaver Nick Bottom, whose head –unknown to him-has been tuned into the head of an ass. “Be kind and courteous to this gentleman, “she tells her fairies. “Hop in his walks and gambol in his eyes; feed him with apricocks and dewberries, with purple grapes, green figs, and mulberries.”

The English did not particularly care for the dewberry. The language of flowers was a Victorian fancy in which every plant represented a different attribute combined to create a symbolic code; roses meant love and pansies meant thoughts. Dewberry brambles meant lowliness, envy or remorse---although the only real remorse comes from the lowliness and envy of not having any.

The origin of the name is unknown. Some think it is a version of “doveberry,” the traditional German name for the fruit. Others are more romantic, citing dewberries as the only berry dark enough to reflect the morning sky when covered with dew.

The only true thing that can be said of the dewberry is that it can only be enjoyed through a bit of inconvenience. So when my husband comes in hot and a little scratched up, I am ever thankful for that basket of berries. It is perhaps a rare example of country living that still exists.

We mainly eat dewberries out of the basket but sometimes with some cream. The dewberry cobbler is a treat. The season lasts about three weeks or so. We pick them fresh every day or two.

Dewberry Cobbler

Makes 6 servings

4 tablespoons butter

4 cups dewberries

¾ cup sugar, plus ½ cup for the berries

¾ cup flour

2 teaspoons baking powder

Pinch of salt

¾ cup milk

Juice and zest of 1 small lemon

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Place butter in a baking dish and melt in the oven.

In a large bowl, toss dewberries with ½ cup sugar.

In a separate bowl, mix ¾ cup sugar, flour, baking powder and salt. Add milk to dry ingredients and blend thoroughly. Pour into baking dish. Add fruit, but do not stir. Bake about 1 hour or until cooked. Cover baking dish with foil if top browns too quickly. Serve with cream or ice cream.