Thursday, January 19, 2012

This One's Really Corny

Welcome to "Ordinary Time". 

We're eating well at home, and often, but truthfully, if I plan 5 meals each 7 days, we need only three.  I can shop and chef and create all I wish, but we only need new meals three out of five days.  Our schedules are so crazy that "heat and eat" is often the best we can do.

On a good Saturday, I'll prep and prepare meals for the seven-day stretch ahead.  When I'm chauffeuring on Saturday, it'll be my Sunday project.  When I'm busy BOTH days, we're not eating any sort of way I'm pleased with.  Our schedules have made "family meal time" an unusual experience.  Woe to us.

That said, after more craziness claiming our "free" time to create meals for the days ahead, I turned to my slow-cooker and my go-to recipe collection for a nutritious, made-from-scratch meal for our family on a busy, busy day.

We've finally had a cold stretch which tells us it's Winter.  Winter means soups, stews, and chowdahs.  I've been in the mood for a good chowdah (corn chowdah is the only one I care for).  We have ingredients in our refrigerator and freezer just waiting to be used up, and I have a fantastic recipe.  Didn't pass up the two-for-one 5# bags of potatoes at the grocery yesterday.  Hooray!

While I'm at it, I'll include a from-scratch recipe for corn muffins I've adopted recently.  We grew up with the blue-boxed Jiffy Baking Mix, a less-expensive version of another popular mix in a yellow box.  We used it a LOT, mostly for pancakes.  We also used the little blue boxes of corn muffin mix, prepared with simple ingredients (egg, milk) from the refrigerator and baked in the cast iron muffin pan.  Crunchy outside, soft and sweet, but a bit dry on the inside, just asking for a tiny bit of melting butter.  Leftover Jiffy corn muffins were great "grilled" - cut in half and toasted with butter on the griddle until slightly brown and crisp.

My food kitchen friends, two lovely old southwest VA ladies, detest Jiffy corn muffins.  TOO sweet for them.  They prefer a savory, somewhat dry buttermilk cornbread baked in a cast iron pan laced with hot oil.  I've made this a few times myself, and I love it too.  My offspring, though, prefer the sweeter muffins from the mix.

SO, I found a recipe for "cheater" mix on the internet.  Basic ingredients, excellent results, no preservatives.  It's here, with Substitution Queen's influence.

Crock Pot Corn Chowdah
based on a recipe from Fix it and Forget it Lightly by Phyllis Pellman Good

1/4 lb. turkey bacon, cut into 1/4" strips
2 c. potatoes, diced (about 3 fist-sized potatoes) - a little extra is better.
1 c. onions, chopped
1 bay leaf
1 c. plain yogurt
3/4 c. skim milk
1 recipe homemade cream of chicken soup* (link below)
1 1/2 c. frozen corn kernels
Ground pepper and salt, to taste

*Prepare homemade soup mix according to previous post.

Cook bacon in large nonstick skillet until brown and crispy.
Place bacon, potatoes, bay leaf, and onions into slow-cooker.  Add a generous grinding of black pepper.  Cover with water.  Add the homemade soup mix and corn.
Cook on LOW 6-8 hours, until the vegetables are done to your liking.
Thirty minutes before serving, stir in yogurt and milk.  Continue cooking on LOW.
When soup is heated through, remove bay leaf.  Place 1/2 of the chowder mixture in a blender and puree until smooth.  Return blended ingredients to crock pot and stir thoroughly.  Add salt and additional ground pepper, to taste.

Skip the blending step if you wish; I find it thickens the chowdah up a little and I like it that way.

Serve with a dash of nutmeg or paprika on top and boiled hot dogs with toasted Yankee buns OR Janet's Mixed-Up Corn Muffins (see below).

Janet's Mixed-Up Corn Muffins
makes 2-dozen mini-muffins or 1-dozen regular muffins

This muffin recipe is REALLY flexible.  Add any sort of cheese and relatively dry vegetable you wish to the mix, and it'll be fine, as long as you don't add too much additional liquid.  Try muenster and leeks, cream cheese and chives, pecans and bleu cheese.  YUM.

Start with Faux-Jiffy-Muffin-Mix (my non-preservative version):
2/3 c. all-purpose flour
1/2 c. yellow cornmeal
3 T. sugar (less if you prefer your corn muffins less-sweet)
1 T. baking powder
1/4 tsp. salt
2 T. oil (if you plan to store this mixture, otherwise, substitute 2 T. yogurt with the wet ingredients)

Note:  You can make this recipe in triplicate (up to this point) and store it for later if you wish.  If you do, add the vegetable oil per the recipe and mix until it's completely incorporated.

Add to dry ingredients:
1 c. cheese, shredded (I used cheddar)
1/4 c. jalapeno peppers, diced (from one of DH's experiments)
1 c. frozen corn
If you have them, add a few diced pimentos as well.  Nice color!

Mix thoroughly.

Make a well in the center of the dry ingredients.  Add:
1 egg
1/3 c. milk

Mix ingredients lightly, until most everything is incorporated.  Scoop into greased muffin tins.

Bake at 375 degF for 8-10 minutes (mini-muffins) or 15-20 minutes (regular sized muffins), until muffins are lightly browned and crusty on top.  Let cool for a few minutes (until cool enough to handle) before unmolding, but be sure to get them out of the tins before they cool completely (and stick to even the best non-stick muffin pan).

* See previous post

Monday, January 9, 2012

Reality Check

I remember when this intended artisan blog turned into a food-and-social-commentary blog.  It began just over a month ago with a whim to clean out my refrigerator and freezer.  To reduce the store of perishable goods which crammed our life full.  To focus more on what we have than what we want or what's easy or what's convenient.  To use what we already have and give the rest to those who need it more.


My friend FJ put much more eloquent words to this notion here (despite or in spite of her description of a questionable taco meal):  http://janetlindseyhanks.wordpress.com/2012/01/04/resolution/

It's amazing how an inanimate 26-cubic-foot appliance rules our life.  Don't think so?  Recall how stressed the family got last time the power went out for a few hours.  This appliance speaks to us.  It saves the day.  It's definitely an elephant in our kitchen.  Maybe those science experiments growing in its recesses are what's speaking.
ANYWAY, here's the check-up.  Six weeks into my pledge to clear out the refrigerator and freezer: we're still a long way from clear.  I cheated.  I AM using up food in creative and nutritious and wonderful ways, but I'm also buying groceries.  Maybe not at the original pace, but I'm still procuring ingredients to suit our palettes, fill our bellies, and satiate our minds.  We're so fortunate to be able to do so.  At least I recognize and appreciate this.  Maybe one day those "starving" teens of mine will get it.  In the meantime...


A sneaky leaky pan of lasagna caused me to inventory what's left today.  Inventory - as in, wash every single item in the fridge because it has tomato sauce all over it.  We have 1/2 gallon containers of milk (that'll be gone after breakfast tomorrow) and maple syrup (thank you MOM!!).  We have 10 carrots, 9 tangelos, 8 stalks of celery, 3 crowns of broccoli, a discolored lime and a partially-shaved lemon.  One beautiful Harry and David pear (no partridge): the last of TWO boxes sent by Mom.  Thanks MOM!!  A bunch of slimy parsley which moved directly to the compost bin.  Several cheeses (thanks, Sis).  Dairy products I picked up yesterday in my quest to healthify some baked goods recipes.  A package of chicken for Thurday supper.  Leftovers packed for lunches and dinners between now and Thursday.  A door full of condiments - although a mere half of what was there a month ago.


What we are out of: meat.


What we have LOTS of:  frozen veggies and refrigerated condiments. 


That bottle of pickled ginger and DH's garden experiments are still with us.  Well, some of the pickles made it onto my plate last night.  Not too bad.  With us as well is the cheese-making kit and a package of egg roll wrappers.


Oh, this is going to be a fun month of menus.  Everything Must Go.  What began as a social justice effort has become a creative game.  I never said it would be dull.

Today I "unloaded" a couple of fun freezer items.  The frozen peaches, brown-ish apple slices from the fridge, and some of the bottled ginger were cooked down, pureed, and baked into bread.  The loaf with pecans was devoured by the largest Sunday School class I've ever seen.  The nut-free loaf became my first pay-it-forward homemade gift of 2012.  The rest went into muffins, an attempt to make over the original recipe.  Most of the fat was eliminated and additional grains introduced.  The muffins went back into the freezer for breakfasts later in the week.

I also used up the last pie crust.  I found a nice, heart-healthy recipe for frittata on the WWW and adapted it into a pseudo-quiche.  Sunday brunch and breakfast this week.

Tonight's no-boil lasagna used up the rest of the tomato sauce (what didn't leak all over the refrigerator), meatballs, and mozzarella cheese.  We also had salad (diet salad); I think ONE of the two blue cheese dressing containers is finally empty.  We're getting there, even if the original point has been mislaid somewhere along the way.


Here's where we're going:  a much, much more intentional eating plan.  I love that word, "intentional."  I really mean it.  Not a diet in the deny-yourself-of-the-things-you-love diet, but an eating plan to adapt to our physical challenges (which includes active teenagers and the death of the family mealtime) and our nutritional needs.  That, and a clean fridge.  Shine on!

Canadian Bacon and Potato Quiche
adapted from http://www.bettycrocker.com/recipes/canadian-bacon-and-potato-frittata/55c1cd46-ab83-42fd-bba6-c7dcaf912c5c
Serves 4 to 6, depending on what else is served with it.

1 prepared pie crust, baked until golden (about 8 minutes in a 375degF oven)

6 eggs

2 T. fresh chives or 1 T. freeze-dried chopped chives
2 milk
1/4 tsp. salt
1/8 tsp. dried thyme leaves
1/8 tsp. pepper
1/4 c. red or green bell pepper, chopped
2 c. refrigerated southern-style hash-brown potatoes (or one fist-sized potato, shredded)
1/2 c. Canadian bacon or cooked ham, coarsely chopped
2 T. Cheddar cheese, shredded
Paprika (for dusting)

Beat eggs, chives, milk, salt, thyme and pepper in medium bowl; set aside.


Spray a nonstick skillet with cooking spray. Add bell pepper; cook and stir over medium heat 1 minute. Add potatoes; cover and cook 8 to 10 minutes, stirring frequently until potatoes begin to brown. Stir in Canadian bacon; cook and stir 1 to 2 minutes or until thoroughly heated.

Spread mixture into pie crust.  Pour egg mixture over pie crust.  Sprinkle with cheese and paprika.

Bake at 375degF for 45-50 minutes, until quiche is set and a knife inserted in the center comes out clean.  Cut into wedges and serve.

Sunday, January 8, 2012

Grammar School

Toe-may-tow, toe-mah-tow, poe-tay-tow, poe-tah-tow.  Same thing, right?  Sure.

How about Appalachian?  I can spell it, but don't ask me to pronounce it.  If it's a Trail, it's "The AT."  If it's a University, it's "Appy State."  If I make the mistake of saying this proper noun aloud, in its entirety, a chorus of "you're not from around here, are you?" questions, smirks, or other peculiar noises result.  Ayuh, I'm not from around hey-ah.

I received quite an education in mid-Atlantic colloquialisms my first year or two in Virginia.  I recall writing a top-ten-type translation dictionary for my Northern family one holiday season.  One of the finer points was that here in Virginia you carry your friend to the grocery, where they pack your goods in a sack after you tote them around the store in a buggy.  In Maine, buggy (as in, "a little bit buggy") refers either to the density of the black flies in the neighborhood or someone who's a few sandwiches short of a picnic.

My favorite, though, BY FAR (eclipsing even "over yonder", which is away to the left or to the right or even both at the same time), is "barbecue".

I came to Virginia in the mid 1990s, a month short of my daughter's first birthday, just in time for the winter holidays.  One of my inaugural activities was the rather large Engineering Department's Christmas feast, a "covered dish" (translation: pot luck) mid-day meal held at the office.  This is not to be confused with the department Christmas Party to which spouses were invited, ties and fancy shoes were worn, and "set-ups" provided (translation: drink mixers).  Navigating the first two MONTHS was an education in learning a new language by "full immersion."

I remember bringing the very large, extremely delicious fruit cake (I am NOT kidding about the fruitcake) which my mom sent from Maine that year.  Snicker all you like, but this was a super-delicious fruit cake.  A Jimmy Howard fruitcake.  More cake than fruit.  Shaped like the State of Maine.  Or, as one engineer noted, North Carolina (the border of which was just a few miles away).  Who knew?  Turn Maine sideways and it looks like North Carolina.  At least to an engineer.  Fit right in, yes I did.

Until they uncovered the chafing dishes and presented "Barbecue."  What?

The same geographically-gifted engineer translated:  I'm from The North.  Where barbecue is a verb, meaning "to cook outside."  I now live in The South.  Where Barbecue is a noun.  A slow-cooked pork product.  Oh, by the way, there's Virginia Barbecue and North Carolina Barbecue and all kinds of other pretend-Barbecues.  Or BBQ, as I've seen it lately.  Maybe the abbreviation distinguishes it from the verb; it certainly fits on a roadside stand more efficiently.

Celebrity chefs and food critics share a passion for barbecue - either as a verb or a noun - and embrace their own version as they would a signature.  Bobby Flay's barbecue involves cilantro and southwestern spices which make me think of black beans and corn rather than slow-cooked pork.  Steve Raichlin, with whom I've worked (once, anyway) and associate more with rich Alsace-Lorraine foods than with cooking outside, has made his fame and fortune grilling anything and everything.  He's written several BBQ Bibles, even.  He is a verb-barbecue King.  He has a FABULOUS recipe for root beer barbecue sauce.  Somewhere.

Jane and Michael Stern, of http://www.roadfood.com/ and regular guests on The Splendid Table, discuss barbecue and its regional flavors often.  The noun barbecue.  Some have more vinegar taste, some are sweeter.  Some are made with barbecue sauce (think sweet and bottled), some are not.  If I spent as much time on the road as they do, I'd probably see the patterns and understand which ingredients indicate which region of origin.  I don't, though, and so I focus on what I think tastes great.

I'm not exactly sure why Z, a Pennsylvania boy by birth, is my King of Barbecue, but he is.  Z and Mrs. Z enjoy what I lovingly refer to as a "mixed marriage."  He is a Virginia Tech grad.  She is an alum of the University of Virginia.  For many, this is a rivalry which challenges Alabama/Auburn or Ohio State/Michigan in ferocity.  They are the most fun, most generous, most caring people I know.  Period.

When DH and I announced our intention to wed and relocate, the House of Z geared up for a party in our honor.  House of Z parties are, simply, phenomenal.  Great guests, abundant food and delicious drink, all set on beautiful grounds.  These folks throw a fabulous party.  All this after being up the entire night babysitting the barbecue - in both the noun and the verb forms.

Z made what seemed like TONS of his famous slow-cooked pork delicacy.  His process involves soaking Boston Butt in a delightful concoction, then slow-cooking on the grill.  All night.  There is typically a generous amount of beer involved, too, although the recipe he provided indicates that the beer is for the chef, not the pork.  When it's ready, Z slices this delicious dish and piles it high on the table for all to admire.  Moaning is appropriate.

Not sharing this same penchant for overnight slow-roasting on the grill, I've adapted Z's recipe for the crockpot.  Rather than slicing the finished product, I find it's perfect for "pulling", or shredding.  I finally understand where the term "pulled pork" comes from.  Add a little of the cooking liquid back in and it's EXACTLY the noun I enjoy on a bun with coleslaw on the side.

Z's Boston Butt (or, Chateau Jeaux-Naus Pulled Pork)

Boston Butt (about 5#), rinsed and patted dry.  Place in slow cooker.

Combine in this proportion:
1T each garlic (raw, pressed), olive oil, Worcestershire sauce, paprika, and Essence
Add two times as much Coke as vinegar to cover pork in slow cooker.

Cook on LOW for 8-12 hours.

When done, remove pork to a clean pan.  Shred (I use two forks and pull the pork apart).  Add enough cooking liquid to bring to desired consistency.  Discard the remaining liquid and rinse slow cooker.  Return pulled pork to slow cooker to keep warm until serving.  Serve on hamburger buns with hot sauce.

Chateau Jeaux-Naus Cole Slaw

1/2 head cabbage, shredded
1 carrot, shredded

1/2 c. mayonnaise
2 T. horseradish
2 tsp. cider vinegar
1 pkt. sweetener
1/2 tsp. celery seed
freshly ground pepper, to taste

Combine dressing ingredients and mix well.  Add to cabbage and carrots and mix well.  Serve with additional mayonnaise, if desired.


My kids like this dish because it's the only time I'll spring for a big pack of soda and leave it mostly unattended for them to pilfer at will.  I know there's a whole Coke-vs.-Pepsi cola war out there and one's preference indicates their region of origin.  I've been known to use Coke, Pepsi, Dr. Pepper, and even root beer (a nod to BBQ King Raichlin).  Oh well.

Not-so Extreme Makeover, Menu Edition

There's nothing like a little hospital drama and a surgical procedure to steer things back into focus.

DH has two sets of parents (well, four, if you count the two older sisters and their significant others, but I'll leave that one for another time).  Both sets of parents have passed their 80th year and have substantial medical histories.  One ushered in the New Year with an emergency heart procedure.  After a single night of "recovery" in the hospital (as much as one can recover in a bright, noisy place like a hospital), this inlaw was sent home with an arterial stint, a nice big bruise, and a healthy diet plan.

DH remarked that any individual on the other side of 80 might have a difficult time changing practically everything about their diet.  A change like this might be good for someone, oh, say, in their mid-40s who's been having trouble sleeping and was told by the doctor to lose weight and exercise more.  DH and I both have heart disease, diabetes, and blood pressure complications in our family histories.  The first recommendation for prevention of each of these conditions is to eat less and move more.  Eat better, eat healthier.  Move under your own power.  We can do this.  Our lives depend upon it.

The Dog is COMPLETELY on board.  Walk, walk, walk.  The Dog knows the word "walk" and practically leashes herself when she hears it.  Wag, wag, wag.

Truthfully, this won't require much change around our kitchen, because (as we've demonstrated well already) I love to cook.  From "scratch".  I'm a veteran of many, many diet plans (mostly healthy and focused on fresh foods and portion control) and a life-long Weight Watcher.  When I heard this buy-in from DH, I sprang into action.  Well, not really, but it's given me something to really sink my teeth into.  Figuratively, at least.

Seeing myself not only as the feeder of the flock but the caretaker of their nutrients and physiology has given me pause.  I appreciate the daunting task ahead.  Not only will I love my people by cooking them tasty food, I will cook them healthy food so I can love them all that much longer.  Scaling back on the fats, sugars, and meats is a challenge, but not one we can't overcome.  This does not mean a constant menu of diet salad (hold the mayo) and cottage cheese.  Portion control is the elephant in the room.  So to speak.

Well, this artisan blog has turned into a food blog as well, so why not?

How do you eat an elephant?  One bite at a time.

Today's bite is to reduce chemicals in our lives.  Specifically, the additives and preservatives prevalent in prepared foods.  I'm not a big fan of prepackaged food or mixes or anything, well, "convenient" because I find them high in sodium and other chemicals.  That's not to say I'm a purist, and certainly not perfect, because you are still likely to find convenience foods in my cart on any given trip to the grocery.

However, as I cook more and experiment some and consult the world wide web of electronic information, I'm getting better at this.  Better at finding healthy, tasty substitutions for some of the more-convenient and less-nutritious products out there.  I get frustrated by company websites which use more prepackaged ingredients (which, of course, they sell) than what I call "elemental" ingredients, or food in its somewhat close-to-basic form.  I'm not grinding my own wheat for flour, at least not yet, but I am perfectly capable of mixing flour and baking powder together.  I don't need to buy it in a box and pay for the brand name and the chemicals required to give it a long shelf life.  In the box.

As we cook more at home with fresher or simpler ingredients, we find it increasingly difficult to accept the saltiness of prepared-by-others foods.  This means eating out less, because our choices here are limited.  That's OK, too.  We'll save the eating out for when we travel.

So, here's my favorite make-from-scratch, save-the-sodium, love my heart and DH's blood pressure substitution for... condensed cream of chicken (or cream of anything) soup.

Many, many of the working-mom-time-saving-recipes out there call for some sort of condensed cream soup.  I've jettisoned a host of recipes simply because I refuse to keep these little cans of high blood pressure bait in the pantry.

Hold on, though.  These little conveniences, laden with so much sodium one bite makes my body feel like it's at high tide, came from somewhere to fill some need.  They were canned to replace something that was important to a lot of someones before they became so convenient.

That something is White Sauce.  Sauce Bechamel, if you would like to be fancy - named for 17th-century French financier and courtier Louis de Bechamel.  Probably found its way to the United States via Monticello.  It has an "unassertive characther and smooth texture, which make it the ideal agent to thicken and bind a wide range of dishes".  Thank you, Ethan Becker and Joy of Cooking

If you make Bechamel the Joy way, it takes about 30 minutes and involves simmering milk gently to infuse the taste of bay leaf and cloves.  I've done this and it makes a truly lovely sauce.  It's worth it if the sauce is for finishing a dish.

If it's used for a binder in a casserole or a thickener for soup, however, the Joy version is far too fussy.  Noted author and voracious reader Madeleine L'Engle wrote in her autobiography that she read constantly, even as she stirred the white sauce for dinner.  That is the sort of not-fussy thickener/binder I want.

Here's what's in a white sauce:  a little flour, some butter, some milk, some stock, and a little elbow grease.  That's all.  Maybe a dash of nutmeg to finish it up.  No more time required than it would take to open and scrape out a tin can.  A few fat calories and a couple of carbohydrates, but nothing a portion-controlled diet can't accommodate.  Easy peasy lemon squeezy.  Hold the lemon.

Cream of Chicken Soup Substitute (for healthy hearts)
from http://bunsinmyoven.com/2011/05/04/cream-of-chicken-soup-substitute/

1 T. flour
3 T. butter
1/2 c. chicken broth
1/2 c. milk
salt and pepper (and a grind of nutmeg), to taste

Melt the butter in a small sauce pan over medium-low heat. When melted, whisk in the flour and continue whisking until smooth and bubbly.
Remove from the heat and slowly whisk in the chicken broth and milk. Return to the heat and bring to a gentle boil, whisking constantly, until the soup thickens.
Add salt, pepper, and nutmeg to taste.
Substitute this for one can of cream of chicken soup.

Substitution Queen thinks cream of celery or cream of mushroom are just as simple, with a little simmering of the vegetable in slightly salty water to make the veggie stock, then continue as written. I'll let you know.

Saturday, January 7, 2012

Primarily New Hampshire

Ah, Silly Season.


I'm not referring to the off-season of professional sports when drafts, posturing prior to contract negotiation, and other crazy team changes are made. Nor do I refer to the time when nothing happens in Parliament due to recess. Nor do I refer to an alien invasion unrealized until it's too late. My Silly Season is definitely IN season and completely in the realm of the realizable for those who consult any sort of mass media.


This is the season when two American states with tiny populations and a mere 11 Electoral College votes between them become the focus, and in some cases deciders, of the candidates opining for a place on the ballot for our next Presidential Election. This is the time when folks throughout the world, even here in southwest Virginia, learn that New Hampshire is, indeed, in the United States of America and is not a Canadian Province.


Having spent the majority of my formative years a resident of New Hampshire (who can resist the State Motto: Live Free or Die!), I feel at liberty to make some tongue-in-cheek observations about this very Silly Season.


Outside the single week following the Iowa Caucus and prior to the New Hampshire Primary, the population in New Hampshire is around 1.3 million*. People. Not counting moose, who are hard-pressed (haha) to hit that VOTE button with their cloven hooves. During Silly Season, though, you'll be looking for hotel rooms in Boston, because all those in (southern) NH are filled with the swelling population of candidates' entourages and mass media representatives.


Folks from "New Ham-sha" can be a fiercely independent bunch. Witness their state laws permitting voters to register as Undeclared and vote for whomever they choose, regardless of party affiliation, in whatever primary or election they wish. Freedom of choice: freedom to choose any candidate out there. Imagine my shock and disbelief when handed a primary ballot with only one party's candidates on it in a large mid-western state. New Hampshire also has the country's highest density of Libertarians. Live Free or Die.

As tiny as NH is in population, so is it in size. NH covers a mere 9,000 square miles, ranking 45th of the 50 US states. At its widest point (its border with Massachusetts), NH is only 68 miles wide. It has only 16 miles of Atlantic Ocean coastline, and a 58-mile meandering border with Canada. There are only 190 miles between its borders with Canada and Massachusetts.


That's not to say that presidential hopefuls criss-cross every part of New Hampshire, attempting to shake every hand and meet every primary voter. Most candidates, particularly the serious ones, spend the majority of their time in the southern portion of the state where the majority of the population resides and the Boston stations cover news. Occasionally presidential hopefuls make that long trek (about 30 minutes on I-93) North to be seen in Concord, the state capital. Any candidate seen north of Concord has obviously lost their way and been separated from their entourage.


Outside Silly Season, in many ways New Hampshire's two distinct parts (Southern NH - that is, where the population is, south of Concord - and "The Boonies", all parts North) take on the appearance of their nearest neighbors, Massachusetts and Maine. Middle school students here in Virginia can't distinguish it from Vermont (in fact, they don't think of VT as a state at all but as the local Polytechnic University).


Again, though, the Granite State and its residents are very, very independent. Strongly independent. New Hampshire has a very high population of families from 'old colonial' ancestry, descendants from those original colonists who fled European tyranny. Several towns in NH carry my father's family name; I come from this stock, flavored by grandparents from Northern and Eastern Europe. Certainly this explains a lot.


NH is the only state in the Union which allows for revolution. There you go.  Live Free or Die.


Remember that term "rugged individualism"? Herbert Hoover, our 31st President, from (coincidentally) Iowa, is remembered for this term and his belief that those in trouble should help themselves rather than expect others to help them. To me, rugged individualism is status quo in New Hampshire, or at least in our corner of it. Help yourself. Make a change if one is needed. Take charge of your own fate and fortune. Be responsible. This doesn't mean you oughtn't help others less fortunate or accept gifts gratefully, because folks in New Hampshire, despite the hard granite exterior, do have a deeply-seeded tradition of helping neighbors. Helping neighbors helps community. Helping community helps individuals. It's a wonderfully supportive concept. Just don't expect it. Help is a gift, not an entitlement. Now THAT explains a lot.


This isn't to say that New Hampshire folks are all the same, because they're certainly not. They're independent. Sometimes fiercely so. Right, wrong, rarely indifferent. Do not stereotype New Hampshirites as clothed in plaid and fur, huddled around a potbellied stove, riding snowmobiles to school. The political pundits know this, and recognize the power in the independent nature of the New Hampshire primaries. We'll know who wins the primary when all the votes are counted. Not one minute earlier. I'll be right here in my corner of Virginia rooting for my New Hampshire friends to make their choices honestly and independently, and to bask in the limelight before it turns away for another four years and New Hampshire goes back to the beautiful, quiet, unknown state I love.


Saturday's Weekend Edition on NPR brought back one of the fondest memories from my elementary school years: a field trip to a nearby sugar house. Many who travel to New England during the fall are taken aback by the beautiful colors deciduous leaves will turn when the weather becomes crisp. Much of New Hampshire's brilliant color (and subsequent tourist income) comes from the cascade of maple trees dotting its mountainsides. These trees also provide the clear-colored sap which, when collected and distilled in the sugar house, becomes rich, dark maple syrup. I can still smell the vats of syrup and wood fires burning.


I'm spoiled by many great memories and a taste for the finer things I've discovered while travelling through life. Fortunately, my family in Maine feeds some of these tastes regularly. We particularly appreciate the gallons of pure maple syrup which find their way via post to us here in Virginia around the holidays. I've never been able to tolerate the maple-flavored high fructose corn syrup, and as such, I don't order pancakes at a restaurant. So when we have them, it's at home and with The Real Thing.


Today, in honor of New Hampshire's brief 15 minutes of fame and in the spirit of using up what we have (the rest of the 2011 maple syrup stash), it's pancakes for breakfast at Chateau Jeaux-Naus.


Multi-Grain Flapjacks
based on a recipe from Joy of Cooking c1997.

Whisk together the following:
1 c. whole wheat flour
1/2 c. all-purpose flour
1/3 c. cornmeal
1/4 c. rolled oats (old-fashioned or quick-cooking)
1/4 c. wheat germ
2 tsp. baking powder
1/2 tsp. salt
1/2 tsp. baking soda
1 tsp. cinnamon and a pinch of freshly-grated nutmeg


Whisk together in another bowl:
1 3/4 c. milk
4 T. butter, melted and cooled
1/4 c. honey
3 eggs

Pour wet ingredients over dry ingredients and gently whisk them together, mixing just until combined. Spoon onto hot, seasoned griddle. Cook until the top of each pancake is speckled with bubbles and some have popped, then turn and cook until underside is lightly browned. Serve immediately or keep warm in a 200degF oven.


Serve with pure maple syrup. Nothing else tastes quite right. Or left. Or undeclared.


*Facts from www.statemaster.com


Christmas Dinner for Two

Here's another of my favorite sayings:  Portion Control Begins at the Grocery.

While it seems odd to be discussing portion control amidst the year-end holidays, here we are.  As I've been focusing on using up the contents of our refrigerator and freezer, I've been working on a better sense of portion control for myself, for my family, and for my food storage goals.  Too much food results in overstuffed folks; too many leftovers result in science experiments located in the back of the refrigerator.  All of this is waste, one of the main things I'm resolving to reduce drastically.

This year we didn't bother much about the holidays.  We didn't bother to put up the tree.  More accurately, we didn't bother hauling the tree down from the attic, a cumbersome task on the best of days.  We didn't bother to do any decorating at home, didn't bother to send cards, didn't bother much with gifts.  We didn't find the time. 

My children spend their holidays with the OP (Other Parent).  Our family traditions are folded into the every day "regular time" experiences we share, rather than saved up for specific days and times.  This a mixed-up, messed-up time of year for me. 

The lack-of-bother helped me clarify the value of some tradition and the ridiculousness of much of the rest.  This year, I focused more on what each of the holidays means to me and which parts of our family tradition I don't want to let go.  It was much, much, much less about things and much, much, much more about love.  For me, a big part of love is food.  Food = Love.  In so many, many ways.

Food has always been a large part of our lives, and never more so than at Christmas.  During my youth, we spent many Christmas holidays at my grandmother's house (yes, over the river and through the woods, but the horse was a V8, it took 3 hours to get there, and it only snowed about half the time).  Those are my favorite memories, by far, of Christmas.  Most of my mom's immediate family would be there in my gram's big New England house and we'd spend a week preparing and playing.  There would be skiing, hot chocolate, shopping, snow forts, decorating, and (of course!) baking and cooking.  There was always plenty of food, and every family member's favorites were solicited and prepared.  We ate and snacked and nibbled and ate again.  Constantly.  My Oldest Uncle once advised "You can't leave Dot's kitchen without a calorie," as he stuck his hand into one of the storage tins, winked at me, and raised another treat to his mouth.

The highlights of this wondeful season are numerous and polished well with the passing of time.  There are too many to share in a dozen posts, although a 12-memories-of-Christmas essay sounds like fun.  In the future. 

This is a which-traditions-I-kept-this-year-when-I-skipped-Christmas post.  This month's theme is food.  This is where we hit the EASY button.  I promise.

When I planned my Christmas escape this year, I planned activities and menus.  I love making menus, copying recipes, and making shopping lists.  Love, love, love.  Two summers ago we vacationed for a week in a State Park cabin, and I had a four-meal-a-day-for-a-week menu plan, complete with recipes and shopping list, and as many pre-made food kits as possible.  I planned to shop once and not leave the Park after we arrived.  No doubt I'm my mother's daughter: we did this often as we prepared for camping or backpacking deep in the Maine woods, nary another human for miles, let alone a supermarket.

My menu focus this year was on using what we have already, PLUS easy-peasy-lemon-squeezy recipes which allow more relaxing and less working.  Pack what we need, make one small grocery run for the things which don't travel well, and live with it once we're there.  I had a great plan. 

We spent $200 at the grocery store.  So much for portion control.  So much for packing what we needed.  Note to self: Take the day off to pack and stick to the plan.  Throwing everything together in 10 minutes before take-off doesn't work for air travel, nor for this sort of trip.  It does result in many miles of aggressive silence during the ride.

I digress.  Again.

We had two big meals at Gram's during the Christmas season:  the Christmas Eve Smorgasbord (a nod to my grandfather's Swedish heritage) and Christmas Dinner, usually mid-afternoon on Christmas Day.  I wasn't giving either of these traditions up, but they were going to get a serious makeover.  Rather than feeding a dozen or more and needing a week's worth of leftovers to feed our largish extended family of Christmases past, this year we'd be feeding two, no leftovers required.  Rather than a month of preparation, we had a day.  This is a serious makeover.

Christmas Dinner at Mama Dot's was a huge affair.  She had the biggest, longest dining room table I've ever seen.  The menu included ham and turkey, sausage stuffing, mashed potatoes, green beans with almonds, carrots with orange and brown sugar, home made yeast rolls, pearl onions in a cream sauce, and many other dishes I'm forgetting.  When Aunty was alive, she hosted Christmas Dinner and it included onion soup.  Dessert included pies, cookies, and candy.  It all came from Gram's tiny kitchen (no bigger than mine), and many, many hours of loving preparation.  It was truly wonderful.  Particularly because in those days my only responsibility was "stay out of the kitchen."  Whew.

These days I prefer everyone else to stay out of the kitchen and let me chef.  Call me selfish, silly, or simply controlling, but I love to cook.  Even more, I love to feed.  Feeding people = LOVE.  Love people.  Cook them tasty food.  (Thanks, Penzey's Spices, for another great slogan).  It's one thing I CAN do for those I love.

So here we are.  Christmas Dinner for Two.  Easy Peasy Lemon Squeezy (hold the lemon).  DH LOVED it, particularly because it was done so quickly and effortlessly.  He kept saying "this is done already?"  This may have been commentary on how long it takes me to prepare things at home.  No comment!

Pork Tenderloin with Cardamon-CranApple Jam and Winter Vegetables
Serves more than two, with plenty of leftovers

Pork tenderloin (rinsed, patted dry, and butterflied)
Fresh rosemary sprigs
Fresh garlic, sliced
Olive oil
Salt and pepper

Sweet potato, baked and mashed
Parmesan cheese, grated (about 1/4 cup)
Salt and pepper (freshly ground, to taste)
Maple syrup (about 1 T.)

Brussels sprouts, trimmed (about 1/2 lb. fresh)
Carrots, peeled and sliced (2 or 3 carrots)
Onion, sliced (about 1/2 c.)
Dill (about 1 tsp.)
1 tsp. sugar
Olive oil

Take-and-bake loaf of bread
Butter, softened for spreading, or oil-and-balsamic-vinegar for dipping

Cardamom CranApple Jam (see previous post) or any other sort of chutney, jam, sauce, etc.

Preheat oven to 350degF.

Rinse pork tenderloin and pat dry.  Butterfly.  Line inside with sprigs of rosemary and sliced garlic.  Add a few grinds of salt and pepper.  Close up tenderloin (tie if you wish, but we didn't).  Place in oiled baking dish.  Grind a little more salt and more pepper on the top.  If you have pancetta or another sliced, cured meat, layer it on the top of the pork loin.  Cover with foil and seal well (to keep juices inside and pork moist). 

Wash sweet potato.  Prick skin with fork several times.  Wrap in foil (this prevents any of the potato juices from escaping onto the oven bottom or coil - this is a holiday; you don't want to be cleaning the oven when dinner's over).

Place both pork and sweet potato in oven.  Check sweet potato after about 30 minutes (it's done when you squeeze it gently and it gives); remove when done and let it sit until cool enough to handle. 

Mash sweet potato and mix with salt, pepper, and parmesan cheese.  Add a little butter if you wish.  Place in greased baking dish.  Drizzle maple syrup on top.  Cover with foil.

Prepare carrots, brussels sprouts, and onions; place in a large skillet.  Add about 1/2 c. water (about 1/4 inch in the skillet).  Cover. 

Check pork after about an hour (cooking time will depend on size of tenderloin).  Remove foil and allow to brown on top (or the cured meat on top to crisp), another 15 minutes or so.  Remove from oven and allow to rest.  Internal temperature will continue to rise.  Pork is done when internal temperature is 170degF.

While pork is resting, braise the vegetables and bake the bread:

Crank the oven up and bake the bread according to package directions.Bring the water in the skillet to a boil over high heat, then turn the heat down and simmer the vegetables for about 5 minutes until crisp-tender (longer if you like them softer), then turn off the heat.  Add the sugar, dill, salt and pepper (if desired), and drizzle with olive oil.  Stir to combine.  Cover until ready to serve.

When bread is done, remove to cutting board and turn oven off.  Put sweet potato "casserole" into oven to heat through.

Remove rosemary sprigs from pork before slicing.  Serve with sweet potato, winter vegetables, a dollop of Cardamom Cran-Apple Jam, and bread.



In the spirit of full disclosure, I'll confess that we made this dinner the first night we dined at the cabin, Christmas Eve Eve, anticipating leftovers (the only pork loin the grocery had was large enough to feed Gram's extended family).  We noshed on it the rest of our time there and a while longer.  We came home with leftovers and leftover leftovers, but we ate every single bite. 

So THERE! for portion control.  Sort of.

This One's Crummy

What did I do with the leftover applesauce cake?

While I had a LOT of recommendations to make bread pudding, I didn’t think the cake would hold together enough, nor did I expect anyone (other than me) to eat it. Since the cake was so dry and crumbly, I crumbled it all the way and toasted it, like fine grit bread crumbs, in a “slow oven” (about 200degF) for well over 30 minutes. Then the idea of a fruit crumble with a breadcrumb-like top occurred to me.

Well…! The fridge still had some fresh cranberries, a couple of apples, and sweet potatoes. There’s all this vanilla syrup around. Let’s experiment!

It worked surprisingly well. It smelled delicious. It must be terribly sweet. I don’t know… had to leave the warm crumble on the stove for DH to take to our Sunday School taste-testers. We’re off to the pool…

Harvest Crumble Sweet potato, cranberry, apple with crumb topping and white sauce

(inspired by Food Network’s Apple Crumble with Cardamom-Vanilla Caramel Sauce from chef Melissa d’Arabian)

Sweet potato (about 2 c.), diced small (about ½” cubes) and par-cooked until soft
Apple (2), sliced thinly
Cranberries (about 1 c.), chopped
Lemon (zest and juice)

Mix ingredients together and place in baking dish. Mine fit in a standard quiche pan.

Crumb topping:

I used 4 T. butter, melted,
mixed with about 2 c. leftover applesauce cake, crumbled and toasted.

Sauce:

1 c. vanilla syrup
1 T. butter
½ c. yogurt (the recipe called for cream, but I was out… so I substituted!)

Warm vanilla syrup gently in small saucepan. Add butter; when butter is melted and bubbly, remove from heat. Add yogurt and whisk until smooth. Pour over crumble.

Bake, covered, at 325 degF for about 30 minutes, until it is heated through and smells delicious. Remove cover and bake another 10 minutes until top is crispy.

Prepare sauce and pour over top. It’s VERY sweet; enjoy with coffee and milk!

It's All My Fault

Another Pesto Post.

I wrote this post back in mid-December (during Marathon Swim Meet, I'm sure) but didn't get it posted for one reason or another (probably because it mentions a gift I still haven't given). Ah, whatever. Welcome to my world.  Here it is:



I had a poll going, over in the right column. It caused me to change my blog format because it was unreadable.   It asked the question: which of these items will be the most difficult for me to use up?  Cocktail onions?  Easy - marinated olives (which, by the way, turned out to be a BIG hit).  The lemon balm wasn’t a big concern. At least for you, dear readers (all four of you who voted in the poll!). For me? I’m stumped. Or, I was.

I harvested a huge batch of lemon balm from my garden. It took to our clay soil and my farming plan called “neglect” – and we had a huge crop. Problem is, I had no idea what to do with it. I tried a few things, but they were horrid. Still, I packed it away in the freezer for an inspired day.


That day is here. My friend (First Janet) brought it on this week when we caught each other two-timing at our regular sushi restaurant (there is one here in our corner of southwest Virginia, in a former Golden Corral building – what a vast improvement). I was there with DH, she with a gaggle of girlfriends.

FJ has taken up the refrigerator challenge with me, making MUCH more progress than we have. I’d like to think it’s because she has a large tribe which eats as much as a small army and pretty much cleaned her out after Thanksgiving when they and their significant others rolled out. My tribe is both small in number and rather finicky.



Apparently FJ has a sparkling white, empty refrigerator, anticipating the coming holidays, when it will be filled in preparation for the return of her tribe. In the meantime, there’s nothing to eat but ketchup, mustard, and some other stray condiment. It’s all “my” fault that she had to go out to lunch with her friends. Sure it is.


Well, to take care of my pal, I’ve decided to give her a care package: two pastas and two pestos. Score three for me: a holiday gift for my friend, and two more items leave my fridge disguised as gifts. You’ve already met Sun-Dried Tomato Pesto. Here’s Lemon Balm Pesto, courtesy of allrecipes.com. Just in time to rescue FJ, her Beloved, and my family for a quick supper during this exceptionally busy week ahead.

Lemon Balm Pesto Spaghetti
(from www.allrecipes.com/recipe/lemon-balm-pesto-spaghetti)


2 c. lemon balm leaves
½ c. olive oil
4 cloves garlic

Combine these three ingredients in a food processor. Process until combined but still slightly chunky. Reserve in glass jars for up to two weeks (in the refrigerator).


1 (8 oz.) pkg. spaghetti, cooked al dente (about 12 minutes) and drained well.
1 (16 oz.) can whole tomatoes, undrained
3 onions, chopped
5 dried shiitake mushrooms, stemmed and diced
½ tsp. arrowroot
½ tsp. salt


Combine tomatoes, onions, and dried mushrooms in a large skillet over medium-high heat. Bring to a simmer, breaking up the tomatoes with the back of a spoon. Cook until the tomato liquid has partially evaporated, about 15 minutes. Stir in the arrowroot, salt, and prepared lemon balm pesto. Simmer to blend the flavors and thicken the sauce, about 5 minutes.


Serve the lemon balm pesto sauce over the hot cooked spaghetti.


Substitution Queen's Notes:


1. Arrowroot powder is used as a thickener. I don’t have any. Substitution Queen would use corn starch or flour dissolved in a little cold water. According to my new favorite book, The Food Substitution Bible (Second Ed.) by David Joachim (had to get this the minute I saw it!), 2 tsp. arrowroot thickens 1 c. liquid, as does 1 T. quick-cooking tapioca (don’t have that either), 1 tsp. instant mashed potato flakes (ditto), 1 ½ tsp. cornstarch (now we’re talking) or 1 heaping T. all-purpose flour. Since the recipe calls for ½ tsp. arrowroot, or about ¼ the portion size in this Bible, I’ve decided to use about 1 tsp. flour (about ¼ a heaping T.) dissolved in a little water.


2. Dried shiitake mushrooms are difficult to find here in southwest Virginia. The Food Substitution Bible suggests substituting 8 oz. sliced fresh mushrooms for 1 ½ oz. dried. Since the recipe didn’t give a package weight for the dried mushrooms, I say go for it – add the whole package of fresh mushrooms if it looks right to you. One consideration is that the fresh mushrooms will add liquid to the sauce while the dried mushrooms would have the opposite effect, so you might want to bump up the thickener a little, but I probably wouldn’t. Depends on what it looks like!


3. I already have a nice batch of leftover spaghetti sauce, with onions and mushroom and some errant meatballs, in the fridge, so I plan to use it up instead. Another win!


If I’d been thinking, I would have taken my entire jar of pickled ginger with me to the sushi place. Now THAT particular refrigerator gem has me worried. Pickled ginger chips? Hmm…