The evolution of a recipe

 

This is the tuna I order by the case 
from a small fishing vessel in Oregon.

In working on my possible cookbook about my mom and me in the kitchen and the food of the fifties, I’ve been fascinated to realize that while I often use Mom’s recipes just as she did, I also sometimes adapt a recipe to tastes seventy years later. Few things in life are more trendy than foods, so it’s fun for me to rescue some old goodies from undeserved obscurity or to see how things change. My pot roast, for instance, builds on what Mom did but I add my own touch. Or meatloaf—she made it one way but I have three or four choices I like, all of them family favorites.

So I was interested when a friend sent me a recipe for a tuna spread, along with an explanation of the changes she made. I followed her recipe last night—but made some of my own changes. Tuna and cream cheese are the base for all three versiions. Here’s the original recipe:

Tuna spread

Ingredients

2 (6-1/2 oz,) cans tuna, drained

8 oz. cream cheese, softened

1 tsp. grated onion

Salt and pepper to taste

½ cup mayonnaise

3 Tbsp. hot sauce

2 Tbsp. chopped fresh parsley

Dash of lemon-pepper seasoning

1 tsp. Worcestershire sauce

Chill overnight before serving.

Updating the recipe

Anne wrote that she halved the recipe and used less hot sauce and what she had was old, so not too potent. She added a sprinkle of cayenne. She also stirred in some lemon juice and grated parmesan.

My first thought was that Anne was absolutely right to halve it. Two cans of tuna and a whole package of cream cheese would make enough for a large party. Almost as quickly I thought that 3 Tbsp. of hot sauce would render anything inedible for my palate—like Anne, I’m a wimp about hot things. I don’t even keep hot sauce in my kitchen, nor do I have lemon-pepper seasoning. And I don’t grate onion. For dips, I always use one or more green onions. Then I found I had a partially cut lime in the fridge, so I substituted that for lemon. It struck me that Worcestershire was an unusual ingredient with tuna, but I used it and believe it added a bit of depth to the spread.

The result of all my adapting was good—I served it with wine and after my guest left made myself a sandwich. But I thought it a bit bland. For one thing I should not have been so hesitant about the cayenne. Here’s the recipe I would recommend.

Judy’s revised tuna spread

Ingredients

1 6-1/2 oz. can tuna in water, drained

4 oz. cream cheese

1 green onion, including most of the top, minced very fine

Salt and pepper to taste

¼ cup mayonnaise

¼ tsp. cayenne

Juice of one lime

2 Tbsp. fresh parsley plus some for garnish

1 tsp. Worcestershire

Blend all ingredients and chill at least four hours.

A note about my sandwich: I remember having chicken salad sandwiches at Neiman Marcus—there was always a slice of bacon in the middle. Last night I was frying bacon for Jacob’s supper and thought why not? So I put a slice of bacon in my sandwich. Delicious! The flavors didn’t fight at all, and the crunch was nice. Reminded me that I sometimes put potato chips in a tuna sandwich for the crunch.

I have sons-in-law, two of them, who won’t touch canned tuna. I can’t imagine a kitchen without it!

 

 

One dish two ways and a quick hint

Pictue from Freepik

Stuffed mushrooms are a classy appetizer in my mind. Maybe it’s because they take a bit of work—it shows that you didn’t just buy a packaged mix at the grocery for your guests. Maybe it’s because they look pretty. And maybe it’s nostalgia on my part because that’s what my mom fixed on special occasions. Perhaps, though, the best stuffed mushrooms I ever had were served at a small diving resort on Grand Cayman. My son was managing the place and hired a Jamaican cook who made these mushrooms up out of her imagination. Since she was also given to chasing people with a butcher knife, I never did ask for her recipe. Recently though my friend and fellow author Susan Wittig Albert posted her recipe on her Substack column, and I think it’s almost as good as Mom’s.

There used to be lots of theories about cleaning mushrooms. Mom swished them around in salted water to remove loose dirt and then rinsed them. Someone who’d been to culinary school told me that is all wrong because mushrooms already have a lot of liquid and if you submerge them, they just absorb more. Lately I’ve heard that it’s fine to rinse them under running water. I prefer to take a damp paper towel and gently clean them.

Susan also had a cooking hint. One problem with stuffed mushrooms is often that the filling cooks before the mushrooms soften. Since the filling usually has cheese in it, it runs all over while the mushrooms are still raw or almost so. Susan’s advice: stem the mushrooms (save the stems to chop into the stuffing) and turn the caps stem side down in a baking dish. Bake at 350^o for 10-15 minutes. Pour off any liquid that accumulates.

Mom’s filling (with no exact measurements—sorry!):

8 oz. whole mushrooms—I like Baby Bella, but button are fine, stems removed

Grated sharp cheddar cheese, probably about a cup

One or two green onions, finely minced

About a half teaspoon dry mustard

Several shakes of Worcestershire

Mayonnaise to bind, but don’t let it get soupy

Bake at 350^o until cheese melts and is just browned on top. Serve immediately, wth plenty of napkins.

You can also serve Mom’s recipe unbaked as a spread or spread it on toast points and bake until brown and bubbly.

Susan’s recipe (she attributes it to Jane Clark)

For 2 dozen large mushrooms:

½ cup dried breadcrumbs, plus more for topping

½ cup pecorino or parmesan cheese

1/3 cup finely chopped onion (I’d probably use green onions)

Finely chopped mushroom stems

2 Tbsp. fresh parsley, chopped

1 Tbsp, fresh sage, chopped

2 Tbsp. olive oil

Salt and pepper

Mix ingredients thoroughly and spoon into caps. Bake at 350^o until mushrooms are tender, filling is heated through and topping is golden. About 15-20 minutes.

Susan’s quick tip: Use a packaged, seasoned stuffing mix instead of bread crumbs and herbs. Mix with cheese, onons, and chopped stems. (Probably add the olive oil to bind it all together).

 

Easy stuffed mushrooms

 

As some of you may remember, I am working, now and then, on a cookbook based on the theory that the food of the Fifties has an ongoing effect on the way we cook and eat today. It’s easy to scoff at the idea of food of the Fifties—all those jellied salads and prepared foods. Yet there were dishes that many of us treasure to this day—meatloaf, salmon croquettes, tuna casserole, chicken Divan, steak Diane, deviled eggs, green salads—the list is long but maybe someday you’ll read the book. I think it’s going to be titled Mom and Me in the Kitchen, because it’s turning out to be a tribute to my mom who was a great cook, not a chef but just a darn good cook.

Perhaps all this is on my mind this morning because I’m still getting back to reality after a wonderful Christmas with seventeen of my family. The girls have taken over the kitchen, and as I watched them cook, I realized that they were doing things the way my mom taught me and I, in turn, taught them. They stuffed a turkey with onion and celery and made dressing on the side (okay, it was cornbread whereas Mom’s and mine were always white bread—I guess we have to give in to Texas on some things). They made classic green bean casserole and apple pie. And best of all, they used Mom’s recipe for yeast-rising dinner rolls (the altitude in Santa Fe did them in a bit, but they were still good). One of the delights of Christmas Day was watching my oldest son and his daughter roll out the dough, watch it rise and shape the rolls.

One of Mom’s signature dishes was stuffed mushrooms. Far as I know, she invented the cheese mixture she used for stuffing them. So imagine my surprise this week when I was reading Ruth Reichl’s Substack column and found something she calls Poor Man’s Tarte Flambée. Reichl as you know is the chef/editor/author/restaurant critic who critiqued restaurants for the New York Times and led Gourmet Magazine until its demise. She is one of the premier figures on today’s American food scene. Her recipe calls for grated sharp white cheddar, diced raw bacon, onion and horseradish, salt and pepper. This mixture is spread on toast and broiled. I laughed aloud: it was so close to Mom’s stuffed mushrooms, which she was making long before Reichl picked up a measuring spoon.

Here’s what she did for mushrooms (sorry, but there are no precise measurements):

Mom’s stuffed mushrooms

Large mushrooms, de-stemmed and wiped clean—I figure about three per person

Grated sharp cheddar, probably about a cup

Green onion, sliced thin, both white and green parts; if it’s a big one, cut down the middle, before slicing

A couple of dashes of Worcestershire sauce

Dry mustard—careful, this is potent stuff and too much can ruin a dish. I’d guess use a half teaspoon.

Just enough mayonnaise to bind.

If you are stuffing mushrooms, fill each cap with the mixture and place on a rimmed baking sheet. The cheese will inevitably run over so it’s best to use parchment paper if you can. Bake in a slow oven, maybe 300 or 325—you want the mushrooms to soften before the cheese gets too brown. Serve warm.

This is also good spread on toast and broiled; for a side dish, top it with lightly cooked fresh asparagus.

Need a quick appetizer for an unexpected guest? Just whip up a batch of this and serve it with crackers.

And raise a toast to my mom—a cook who was ahead of her times. You might also toast Reichl because she’s pretty inspirational in the kitchen.

My favorite new discovery

 

My coaster turned dipping dish.

What’s your favorite part of a good meal at a fine Italian restaurant? If it’s not the tiramisu, mine may be the seasoned olive oil for dipping those crusty bread slices. And now I’ve discovered how to do that at home.

It should be no surprise that one day I was browsing Central Market’s web site looking for an appetizer. A new guest was coming to the cottage for happy hour, along with a good friend who I know needs carbs on a strict schedule. What to fix that would provide carbs and be a little bit showy, just a tad sophisticated? I came across a jar of dipping spices—you know, the small bottle most spices come in. And right next to it were dipping dishes—small, white, round. Eureka! I’d order that and a sliced baguette.

But when my order was delivered (by grandson Jacob) they had removed the dishes and listed the spices as out of stock—they still show on the site. This was the day before the happy hour, and I was fixated on serving that. I decided to go online for a recipe—found one that looked interesting. And realized that those pretty blue and white coasters I keep on the coffee table would be perfect dipping dishes. It was a hit, and I’ve served it twice more to raves—even had to make a second batch. Who knows? Tiny jars (it goes a long way) may make great Christmas gifts. It does store well and doesn’t necessarily have to be refrigerated.

Dipping spices

(Note that these are all dried flakes of spices; you do not want moisture to get into the mix.)

1 tsp. garlic powder

1 Tbsp. oregano

1 Tbsp. basil

1 Tbsp. parsley

2 tsp. onion powder

2 tsp. freshly cracked black pepper

½ tsp. red pepper flakes

1-1/2 tsp. kosher salt

1 tsp. thyme

½ tsp. rosemary

           Most of us have these spices in our cupboard, refrigerator, or freezer. The great thing about this recipe is that if you’re missing one or two ingredients, no one will ever know. It is what I call a forgiving recipe.

To serve, pour olive oil into a small pitcher. Put a basket of baguette slices on the table, and a small jar of the spices. If you want, you can also offer a small dish of grated Parmesan or Pecorino. If you have tiny serving spoons, like demitasse or espresso spoons, they are perfect for serving. Each guest can experiment to determine their favored spice to oil ratio and whether or not they want cheese (the cheese does tend to thicken the dip.)

Warning: I served this one night recently and ate so much I couldn’t even finish my salad for supper. And no, you don’t have to have an Italian entrée with this.

Another warning: Christian says not to put any unused dip with spices in it down the sink or disposal. Throw them in the trash.

Buon appetito!

*Recipe adapted from rachelcooks.com

A quick appetizers moms should love

This will be brief, because thoughts about Mothers Day, my mom, and my children are rattling around in my brain, and I'll post them later on Judy's Stew. But I'm having a good Mother's Day weekend--yesterday Jamie and his three girls (that includes my lovely DIL Melanie) came for an early supper between Maddie's basketball games in a tournament--she was wiped out but the rest of us had a good time. And I was, as always, delighted to see them. When the girls were little I saw more of them but now they are both so busy with activities and school and friends, there's precious little time.
Today I go to Jordan's for a gathering with Christian's family. It's pot-luck and I'll take an appetizer. His dad doesn't eat anything with onions; his sister is a vegetarian; he doesn't like mushroom or artichokes. There went some of my standard recipes.
So I made a Taco dip--taco seasoning in mayo, sour cream and buttermilk, but I made my own taco seasoning thereby avoiding the sodium in the packaged kind--and forgetting the doctor said I need sodium. It made a huge amount of dip. Then I made a ranch dip from scratch--recipe sounded good but I neglected to figure out that it would barely make 3/4 cup. Guess it will balance out.
Anyway, for my recipe of the week, here's one that I just had last week and I love. Thanks to Linda Preston who got this from her friend Judy Coats.

You'll need:
One log plain goat cheese
Wasabi paste
toasted sesame seeds
Soy sauce

Split the goat cheese horizontally and drizzle the bottom half with wasabi paste in sort of an "S" pattern, then put the other half of the log back in place. Roll in toasted sesame seeds (watch them carefully--I often have to toast them twice because I don't just stand there and watch every minute). Refrigerate. Just before serving, douse with soy.

Nice with rice thins or rice crackers.