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.

 

 

 

 

An Italian Easter

In thinking about my Easter dinner I decided to pick a country and cook something from that country. In Italy, Easter is a big deal, since 90 percent of the country are Roman Catholic. But they do not celebrate the same way everywhere and the boot-shaped country has its own set of traditions around one of Christianity’s biggest holidays.

Here are some things you should know about Easter in Italy. The Easter bunny does not exist in Italy, so there are no chocolate bunnies begging to be bitten off. In Italy it is all about the eggs, the symbol of rebirth and renewal. The Italians do go all out for the chocolate eggs, which can range from tiny solid ones to beautifully wrapped foot-high hollow eggs, which hide a gift inside. Most chocolate shops in Italy will custom stuff a chocolate egg. The customer brings the gift to the shop---anything from an engagement ring to black lace lingerie---and wait for the chocolate to be enclosed within the two halves of the chocolate egg.

A popular expression throughout Italy goes like this, “Spend Christmas with your family, but Easter with whomever you want.” No Italian would want to miss his or her nonna’s Easter feast, but Italians use the holiday to reach out to friends, too, for a coffee or a glass of wine.

Colomba is the word for dove and also the name of a dove-shaped yeast cake traditionally served at Easter. It is studded with candied orange peel, then topped with almonds and a sprinkling of sugar to form a crisp, nutty crust. Myth goes that the city of Milan was defending itself against invading forces on Easter Day in 1176. Just when the Milanese seemed destined to lose the battle, three doves flew over the city. Soon after, the battle shifted and invaders were vanquished. Legend holds that after the victory the Milanese celebrated by eating cakes shaped like their savior doves.

Another traditional Easter dessert that is popular in Naples and southern Italy is pastiera, a ricotta and whole-grain pie with a mouthwatering aroma so distinctive, that any blindfolded Neapolitian could instantly identify it. Pasteira is considered by many to be one of Italy’s most important desserts. It is prepared in special pans, whose edges angle out slightly. The pie is often given as a gift and always in the pan it was baked in because of its fragile pastry. The pie needs to rest for two days for the flavors to meld, so it is finished on Good Friday so that is will be ready for Easter.

Scoppio de Carro, which translates as the “Exploding of the Cart,” is an unusual custom in Florence. A huge, decorated wagon filled with fireworks is pulled by white oxen through Florence to the Basilica di Santa Maria del Fiore in the city’s historic center. Near the end of the Easter mass, the Archbishop sends a dove-shaped rocket (a symbol of the Holy Spirit) into the cart to ignite the fireworks. If everything goes as smoothly and spectacularly as planned, it is considered an omen of good luck for the year.

The day after Easter is Italy is known as La Pasquetta or (Angel’s Monday). It is a national holiday with everything closed. The Italians go on a picnic that day, often their first outdoor excursion since the start of winter.

Typical foods in the picnic basket include raw fava beans eaten with pecorino cheese as well as salami, bread, and other cheeses.

It is traditional to serve dishes that contain eggs like this egg-rich easy-to-make baked pasta. This is the dish I chose to cook since it seemed delicious and would be great for an Easter buffet or just a simple Easter meal instead of the traditional ham and all the sides. We enjoyed it also for breakfast.

Pretty Easter Pasta Pie (Crostata di tagliolini)

Serves 8

Olive oil

1 small onion, minced

2 ounces pancetta or prosciutto, minced

8 ounces baby peas

12 ounces fresh mushrooms, any type, thinly sliced

1 garlic clove, minced

½ cup homemade breadcrumbs, toasted

7 tablespoons butter

¼ cup all-purpose flour

2 cups milk, warmed

1 pound tagliolini, or other thin egg noodles

½ cup chicken or beef stock

½ cup grated parmesan

12 ounces burrata or mozzarella cheese, diced

8 ounces thinly sliced ham, cut into strips

In a small pan, heat 1 tablespoon oil over medium-high heat. Cook the onion and pancetta until the onion is softened, about 5 minutes. Add the peas and a few tablespoons of water, and cook until the peas are tender, about 5 minutes. Season with salt and pepper; set aside in a bowl.

In the same pan, heat 2 more tablespoons oil over high heat. Cook the mushrooms and garlic for a minute or two, until tender. Season with salt and pepper; set aside.

Preheat the oven to 350°F. Butter as 8-9 inch nonstick spring form pan and dust it with breadcrumbs.

In another small pot, make béchamel: Melt 4 tablespoons of the butter over medium heat, stir in the flour, and cook, stirring constantly with a wooden spoon, until smooth. Add the milk and bring it to a boil, stirring until thick, about 2 minutes. Season with salt and pepper. Set aside.

Boil the pasta in salted water for 3 minutes less than the package directs. Drain and toss with the stock.

Layer the bottom of the prepared baking pan with one third of the pasta. Dot with one third of the béchamel, sprinkle it with 2 to 3 heaping tablespoons Parmesan, scatter on the pea mixture, then scatter on one third of the diced cheese. Spread out a second level layer of pasta, dot with one third of the béchamel, sprinkle with 2 to 3 heaping tablespoons Parmesan, and scatter all the mushrooms, ham and remaining diced cheese. Top with the remaining pasta and any unabsorbed remaining stock, dressing down to compact the layers. Dot the top with the remaining béchamel, Parmesan, breadcrumbs, and remaining butter, very thinly sliced.

Bake for about 25 minutes, until the pie is set and golden. Let is rest until it comes to room temperature before slicing.

Happy Easter!

My husband doused his liberally with Tabasco, not Italian but he liked it.

Miss Ella

I have just finished reading a great book about Ella Brennan called “Miss Ella.” She is of course the Ella Brennan who as an 18 year old worked in her brother’s bar and spent her professional life in the restaurant business with her crowning achievement being Commander’s Palace restaurant. We ate at Commander’s Palace just a few Sunday’s ago and it meant more to me after reading her book.

Miss Ella trained at the school of hard knocks in Depression-era New Orleans and viewed herself as “a little sawed off kid” from a nondescript restaurant in the French Quarter. And yet, Ella Brennan with the support of a colorful, industrious---and sometimes contentious---Irish family, an insatiable desire for learning, and hurricane-strength will, blossomed into one of America’s most celebrated restauranteurs.

Her career began in the 1940s and still she was considered a pioneer of the modern American food movement, fostered the careers of chefs such as Paul Prudhomme and Emeril Lagasse, and befriended many Hollywood stars, and became the matriarch of a bountiful family of restauranteurs.

There are too many good stories in the book to repeat here, but this woman was something else. Her brother Owen, who was 15 years older was the first Brennan to own a restaurant. It was called The Ole Absinthe House on Bourbon Street. Ella began working for him, and one morning he came waltzing in and said he was having a dinner honoring his friend Richard, who had just been appointed the chairman of the new vice commission. He wanted Ella to create a new dessert to honor him. She was taken aback that she had to do it that day, but she looked around at all the bananas in the kitchen and she thought everyone loved bananas and they were cheap. Ella’s mother would sauté them with butter and brown sugar. She also knew that everyone loved the baked Alaska at Antoine’s and love seeing it flamed, so she decided to sauté her bananas in butter and brown sugar and add some cinnamon and flame it and pour over ice cream, and yes, that night Ella showed off her dessert to Mr. Foster. Bananas Foster was born.

Ella was also the reason the jazz brunch was created. She said, “I don’t want a restaurant where a jazz band can’t come marching through.” The secret of her success is that she lets people feel important and you are greeted when you enter her restaurant. There is a rule that a BOD (Brennan on Duty) must be at any Brennan restaurant at all times. Commander’s Palace is where you come to have fun. Everyone is part of the party.

The last chapter is about the “saloon” in the sky. Her brother Owen loved the word saloon. In his mind, it was a gathering place for interesting people who were just enjoying themselves. Ella’s picture of the saloon in the sky will be food—New Orleans food; eggs and sautéed bananas for sure. Maybe Jamie Shannon is riding his motorcycle in and out of the kitchen, waving to Paul Prudhomme. Louie Armstrong will be playing, “Do You Know What It Means to Miss New Orleans”, one more time. There will be after dinner drinks. She will have a stinger or two. She will not be sitting on a stool telling people what to do. She will be just having a good time. There is no BOD in the saloon in the sky. In the saloon in the sky, nobody works. You just enjoy.

Ella and her sister Dottie live in a house next door to Commander’s Palace. They call over to Commander’s every night and tell Tory McPhail, the current chef, what they want for dinner. Mr. McPhail stops whatever he is doing to give “room service” for the queens. They even send the dishes back to be washed. So as Ella would say about her life, “Lucky, Lucky Me”.

This book is a must read for anyone interested in the food of New Orleans and the Brennan family. I found it a delicious read!

 

A recipe for any occasion that is always good!

From the Commander’s Palace New Orleans Cookbook, by Ella and Dick Brennan

Bananas Foster

Serves 2

4 tablespoons (1/2 stick) unsalted butter

4 tablespoons brown sugar

2 ripe bananas, peeled and sliced lengthwise

½ teaspoon cinnamon

2 tablespoons bananas liqueur

3 ounces light or dark rum

1 ½ cups French Vanilla Ice Cream

Melt butter in a flat chafing dish or skillet. Add brown sugar and stir until sugar is melted. Add bananas and sauté until tender, about 3 minutes on each side. Sprinkle with cinnamon.

Pour bananas liqueur and rum over bananas, shake pan to distribute the liquid, and flame. Baste bananas with the flaming sauce until flames die out.

Serve immediately over the ice cream.

 

Laissez les bon temps rouler!

 

 

 

Southwest Eats

On our trips out west we always stop at two of our favorite restaurants. Andele, in Las Cruses, New Mexico, is special because of its posole. Always spicy and delicious. La Gloria, in San Antonio, is great for tacos, ceviche, and Mexican pizza. This time we added Hugo’s in Houston which serves really good Mexican food. In the summer they serve squash blossoms on their menu, which I have talked about before.

On returning home I saw that some of my favorite cooking magazines were featuring Mexican cooking which shows that Mexican food is still popular and the magazines are always trying new ways with tacos and Mexican pizza. ‘Fine Cooking Magazine,’ added kimchi to their tacos and this added a tangy, spicy flavor for some flank steak tacos. A take on Mexican pizza was the use of chicken thighs cooked in a slow cooker. These recipes are good and you should add them to your list of Mexican recipes.

 

‘Fine Cooking Magazine’ April/May 2017

Korean Flank Steak Tacos

Serves 4

2 Tbs. rice vinegar

¾ tsp. Asian (toasted) sesame oil

1 tsp. plus ½ tsp. granulated sugar

Kosher salt

½ medium English cucumber, quartered lengthwise and thinly sliced

1 Tbs. soy sauce

1 tsp. grated fresh ginger

Freshly ground black pepper

1 ¼ lb. beef flank steak, cut with the grain into 3-inch-wide pieces

Vegetable oil, for the grill

8 6-inch flour tortillas, warmed

1 cup prepared cabbage kimchi, coarsely chopped (in most grocery stores these days)

Chopped fresh cilantro for serving (We have lots that self-seed in the garden this time of year.)

Whisk the vinegar, sesame oil, ½ tsp. of the sugar, and ¼ tsp. of the salt in a medium bowl until the sugar and salt are mostly dissolved. Add the cucumber and toss to combine. Let sit at room temperature for 25-30 minutes.

Meanwhile, whisk the soy sauce, ginger, the remaining 1 tsp. sugar, and ¼ tsp. black pepper in a small bowl to combine. Brush the steak on both sides with the soy sauce mixture. Let sit at room temperature for 30 minutes.

Prepare a medium-high (400°F to 475°F) gas or charcoal grill fire. Oil the grill grate with the vegetable oil and grill the steak, turning once, until medium rare (130°F), 4 to 5 minutes per side. Transfer to a cutting board, cover loosely with foil, and let rest for 5 minutes. Slice the steak thinly against the grain. Serve in the tortillas with the cucumbers and kimchi. Top with the cilantro if you like.

Tlayuda: A Mexican Pizza

Serves 4

4 chicken boneless skinless chicken thighs

1 tsp. cumin

1 tsp. coriander

1tbsp. paprika

1 tsp. chili flakes

1 tsp. cayenne

½ cup salsa

6 small corn tortillas

1 ½ cup refried black beans

½ cup Queso fresco

½ cup Oaxaca cheese (similar to mozzarella)

Shredded lettuce

Guacamole for topping

Add the chicken thighs, cumin, coriander, paprika, chili flakes, cayenne and salsa in a slow cooker. Cove with the lid and turn heat to high and let cook for 5-6 hours until the chicken is easily shredded. Shred the chicken with two forks and set aside.

Preheat the oven to 450 degrees.

Place corn tortillas on a baking sheet. Evenly spread some of the refried black beans on top of each tortilla. Add the shredded chicken. Transfer to the oven and bake for about 10 minutes until the tortilla is slightly crisp. Add the cheese, lettuce, and guacamole on top.