Summertime is salad time

 

By now, most of us know that the Caesar salad was invented in a restaurant in Mexico, but how many know about the Columbia 1905 Salad that legend says a waiter developed in 1940s for the Columbia, a Spanish restaurant in Sarasota, Florida. The salad eventually became standard at the Columbia, and they used it to combat the popularity of the salad bars that sprang up everywhere. It’s called their 1905 Salad, and if I have my facts in order, that’s because one family owns or owned a group of restaurants they called the 1905 restaurants. This recipe makes a main salad for two or a side for four. You could substitute shrimp or turkey for the ham

For the salad:

4 cups iceberg lettuce, torn into small pieces

1 ripe tomato, diced

½ cup baked ham, julienned

½ cup Swiss cheese, julienned

½ cup green Spanish olives, sliced

 

Toss ingredients in a large bowl. When ready to serve, make dressing.

 

1 cup "1905" Dressing

 

For the dressing:

½ cup Spanish olive oil

4 garlic cloves, minced

2 teaspoons dried oregano

⅛ cup white wine vinegar

Salt and pepper to taste

 

Finally, add to the salad and toss: Serve immediately

 

¼ cup Romano cheese, grated

2 Tbsp. Worcestershire Sauce

Juice of 1 lemon

 

This makes a great, refreshing summer supper for two!

 

An old favorite – recycled

 

Tuna Florentine with crumb topping

It’s kind of hard to come up with new recipes when you’re on a soft diet, at least I find it hard. I am hoping my current disinterest in food is temporary, and I count it as a good sign that I am still collecting new recipes off the web and out of magazines. But today I want to share an old favorite. Before the world crashed in on me recently, I was expecting a good friend from the Houston area to come visit, and I planned to fix this for her. In retrospect, it’s a good thing that won’t happen, because my co-host for that little dinner doesn’t eat cooked greens, a fact that I, a confirmed spinach lover, conveniently forgot. But if you’re okay with spinach and with the bit of extra work required for this, it really is good. And it’s a nice, light dish for a summer evening.

Tuna Florentine

2 Tbsp. butter, divided use

1 small onion, minced

2 10-oz. pkgs. frozen chopped spinach

2 tsp. salt, divided use

½ tsp. ground nutmeg

2 7-oz. cans tuna, packed in oil

3 Tbsp. flour

Pinch of mace

½ tsp. white pepper

Spinach cooking liquid plus enough milk to make 1½ cups

1 c. grated Swiss cheese

2 Tbsp. Parmesan

2 Tbsp. white wine

Topping

1½ c. soft bread crumbs

1 Tbsp. grated Parmesan

2 Tbsp. melted butter

Melt 1 Tbsp. butter; add onion and sauté until brown. Separately, cook the two packages of frozen spinach in less water than the directions call for, breaking the frozen spinach up with a wooden spoon. When tender, drain thoroughly, reserving the liquid (spinach should be very dry). Add butter and onion to spinach. Season with 1 tsp. salt and nutmeg. Simmer briefly to blend flavors.

Add milk to spinach liquid to make 1½ cups.

Drain tuna, reserving 2 Tbsp. oil; flake.

Put 2 Tbsp. tuna oil and remaining Tbsp. butter in saucepan and melt butter. Blend in flour, mace, remaining salt, and pepper. Add spinach liquid/milk mixture and stir over heat until thick and smooth. Remove from heat and add cheeses and wine. Heat until smooth again, and fold in tuna.

Layer spinach in bottom of shallow casserole. Top with tuna mixture. Mix topping ingredients together and spread over tuna layer. Bake, uncovered, at 350° until bubbly and lightly browned (35-40 minutes).

For the spinach lovers among us: if you like this, next time you fix Eggs Benedict, makes them Eggs Florentine!

 

 

 

The wonders of smoked salmon—and a quick, easy tart

 

Photo by Judy

I can’t believe I was grown before I tasted smoked salmon. It’s the kind of thing my mom would have loved, though my Anglophile dad might have declined to try it. Note that I am talking here of cold-smoked salmon (lox is one version); hot smoked salmon is an entirely different thing and tastes, to me, liked regular cooked salmon with an overlay of smoky flavor. I eat it, it’s okay, but I have a passionate love for cold smoked salmon. You can almost always find a pack of it in my fridge—a fishmonger once told me that the packaged smoked salmon is fresher than what he lays out on the counter as fresh-cut. So I buy packaged—there are several good brands, including Ruby Bay, St. John’s Smokehouse, Spence & CO. Ltd. and others.

You can do so many things with smoked salmon, though I think most people tend to think of it as lox and cream cheese on a bagel with tomato and onion slices (I prefer a sandwich on good Jewish rye—bagel is too much chewy bread for me). Try a twist of smoked salmon on top of a deviled egg; make a spread of it with cream cheese and onion (I have a recipe I’d gladly share) and serve with crackers, or stuff in a tiny puff pastry shell with a dab of caviar for (optional) elegance; serve it as the centerpiece of a salad plate, with lettuce, tomato, onion—and scatter capers across it. I like just a plate of smoked salmon with crackers. Or you can try lox and eggs—dice up some salmon into your scrambled eggs. It’s extra good if you also toss in some diced tomato and green onions—just be sure the onions get cooked.

My local family won’t eat smoked salmon—I know, growing up in my household, Jordan has tasted it and doesn’t care for it. I wouldn’t be surprised if Christian has not tried it, and I could almost guarantee Jacob hasn’t, though sometimes he surprises me. So, dishes with smoked salmon are things I fix for happy hour or light supper for friends. Mary V. particularly likes it, and I have more than once served her a flour tortilla spread with crème fraiche, topped with generous smoked salmon, and that dab of caviar in the middle for elegance. (You can get a small jar of caviar for ten dollars—it’s not Beluga, but it’s acceptable).  Recently though I ran across a recipe for a smoked salmon tart and served it to Mary. She loved it—and so did I.

Ingredients (for four servings)

½ small red onion, thinly sliced, previously pickled

1 sheet frozen puff pastry, thawed

1 cup crème fraiche or sour cream

6 oz. sliced smoked salmon

Persian cucumber slices, previously pickled

Capers as garnish

Fresh dill as garnish

Chopped tomato as garnish if you wish

Lemon for serving

Directions

Line a sheet pan with parchment paper and lay the puff pastry on top—no need to roll it out first. I usually use Pepperidge Farm puff pastry, but when Trader Joe’s had theirs on sale (winter holidays only) I bought some to keep in the freezer. It’s turns out really flaky. Poke it all over with a fork to eliminate air pockets. Your pastry should turn out crisp but not puffy-mine actually was puffy and I had to poke it again after baking.

Follow baking instructions for pastry sheet and then let cool to room temperature.

Spread sour cream or crème fraiche over pastry sheet. Top with generous smoked salmon. Arrange garnish vegetables in a decorative pattern if possible and scatter with either caviar or capers.

Serve with lemon.

How to pickle red onion: slice onion into a small bowl; toss with a pinch of salt. Sprinkle with white vinegar until covered and toss again. Let sit on kitchen counter for twenty or thirty minutes. Leftovers? Refrigerate and use another time

How to pickle cucumber: mix 1 cup water with 1/3 cup white cider vinegar, a pinch of sugar, ½ tsp. salt; slice two Persian or one English cucumber and stir into vinegar mixture. Add a sliced green onion if you wish. Let sit at room temperature for 30 minutes to use immediately; otherwise refrigerate. Keeps well and is a hand accompaniment (or ingredient) of sandwiches, etc.

A  couple of quick notes that have been on my mind:

Why are so many recipes calling for jammy (perfectly set whites but with slightly cooked or jammy yolks) eggs? If I want a hard-boiled egg, I want the yolk cooked!

Speaking of eggs: if you don’t want to try salmon in your eggs, try cottage cheese. Seriously! It gives them a rich and hearty flavor. For two eggs (one person) stir in a heaping Tbsp. of cottage cheese. My mom did that and I loved it; thanks to Jordan’s friend Amy for reminding me the other day.

And a whine: if I saw one more pink-and green-kitchen, I may scream. No, I don’t think it’s a great makeover!

And on that note, happy eating.

 

 

 

Never order fish on Monday

Even the best cooks like to dine in a restaurant occasionally—it’s a break from cooking, a chance to experience new tastes (and maybe pick up some new ideas), and it’s fun to have someone else plate your food. But chefs caution there are several things to remember not to order or eat. Herewith just a few. Some have to do with weight control, others with hygiene and food safety.

For the sake of your waistline, do not order those “endless” or “all you can eat dishes. For instance, chips and salsa that is constantly replenished. As you sit and visit, waiting for your food, you almost unconsciously keep nibbling on what’s in front of you. Before you know it, you’ve consumed so many chips you’ve compromised your appetite for the meal. And those fried chips are not innocent—they have probably been fried in trans fats. The same is true for bread with olive oil dipping sauce, although in this case, it’s the oil and not the bread that you should suspect. Olive oil may be heart-healthy, but it has more calories than butter. And then there’s endless pasta—your bowl will be refilled as many times as you want. The thing is most restaurants serve huge portions of noodles to begin with, so if you ask for more, you’re eating two meals.

The same is true for entrée salads. Restaurants load them with lots of dressing (learn to ask for it on the side) and toppings that are high in calories—cheese, bacon, croutons, etc. So that salad you thought would be healthy, may end up with more calories than a Big Mac. Salads to watch are Cobb, taco, and crispy chicken—where the chicken is fried.

Speaking of a Big Mac, it’s best to avoid all fast food, no exceptions. That burger, fries and a shake can end up well over a thousand calories, too much of it from trans fat. Also to avoid trans fats, which can raise cholesterol levels and promote heart disease, avoid fried foods—that chicken-fried steak you love, fried chicken, French fries. It’s hard but you can do it.

Avoid creamy soups. Many have as much as 500 calories per bowl and filling enough to be a main dish. If you want soup before your meal, stick to clear broth. Watch out for soup of the day or house soup—it’s often a mishmash of leftovers.

Restaurant deserts have hidden dangers too. They are usually loaded with fruit, artificial sweeteners, and lots of plain old sugar.

Switching to hygienic hazards, you know those lemons and limes you like to add to your water or tea? Don’t do it. They are big germ carriers, either because your wait person doesn’t use tongs and gloves to transfer them from container to your glass or even because you yourself squeeze them, letting the juice run over your hands (when did you last wash your hands?)

Unless you’re going straight home to the refrigerator, don’t ask for a to-go box or doggie bag. Food left at room temperature for two hours is considered a hazard. For the same reason, avoid buffets—those dishes may be set out piping hot but over time they cool to room temperature and ou can’t be sure how often they are rewarmed. Also buffets present the situation of many hands dipping into a common bowl—a huge opportunity for transferring germs.

Some dishes that may carry food-borne illnesses—those sprouts in your sandwich, raw oysters, certain fish, ground meat such as medium-rare hamburgers. Avoid Hollandaise sauce—it is difficult to make, so chefs make it in large batches—what you get on your Eggs Benedict may have been sitting out for hours. Order bottled water instead of tap water, avoid ketchup in the bottle (chefs tend to combine half-full bottles at the end of the day), and bread baskets—if you think they don’t go from table to table you’re wrong.

All this is enough to scare you off restaurant trips forever, but it shouldn’t. Exercise caution and common sense. And never order fish on Monday—the markets are closed, so that fish has sat all weekend.

I like to leave with something positive, so here’s an easy good chicken recipes I’ve just discovered

Chicken Caesar salad

Ingredients

Chicken tenders

1 cup bottled Caesar dressing

1/3 cup fresh grated parmesan

Parsley (optional)

Romaine lettuce

Directions:

Pound chicken tenders if too thick. Mix Parmesan into dressing and combine. If using parsley, stir in 2 Tbsp. chopped. Coat both sides of each piece of chicken. Broil until chicken is cooked through—it should brown slightly. Spread lettuce into soup plate or dinner plate; top with chicken pieces. Add more dressing if necessary. Add croutons if you wish.

Serve to family raves!

 

Aunt Amy’s Giant Hamburger

 

A reunion of New York and Texas Alters
April 2017 in Tomball, Texas

We were in a classy Italian restaurant, contemplating the selection of appetizes with the thought of some shared plates. But when I suggested meatballs, I was astounded that my friend said, “You go ahead. I don’t eat ground meat. Thoughts of all she was missing ran through my brain. We eat a lot of ground meat at my house, partly because it’s easy on the budget and partly because of its versatility.

Aunt Amy’s Giant Hamburger is a recipe that has stood the test of time for me—like probably fifty years. It’s written in Amy’s careful hand on a 5 x 8 notecard which now makes me wonder if she was in school when she wrote it. The card is yellowed and stained with splashes, the ink fading and smudged. It’s a recipe that I’m glad to share with you because sharing puts it into my computer and a more permanent form.

Aunt Amy is the wife of my late ex-husband’s only brother. Despite divorce and death, my family has stayed close to the New York Alters, who live in the Bronx. I have not been to NYC since Mark and Amy’s wedding which has been a lot of years, but my children have all visited them. And the New York Alters (almost the entire three generations) have been to Texas for reunions at least twice. I’m not sure Amy knows I still cook her giant hamburger, but I will send her this column.

A word about technique: if you have a fish grilling basket, that makes it easier to make this hamburger. Double bonus if you can do it on the grill and get that good smoky flavor. But don’t despair if you don’t have the grill or the pan. Broil the burger on both sides, being careful with the flipping process. I’d suggest using a couple of plates rather than trying to flip it with spatulas as you do a smaller hamburger. I’ve also discovered that many dishes, like meatballs or salmon patties, hold together better if refrigerated before cooking. My mom’s trick was to throw in a handful of dry tapioca, but I can’t find that on the market these days. Also you’ll note the recipe calls for a three-oz. jar of chopped mushrooms, which dates it. I gave up buying canned or chopped mushrooms years ago—just chop a quarter lb. of fresh mushrooms. I’ve also written out the margarine in favor of butter.

Ingredients (makes six servings):

2 Tbsp. butter

1-1.5 cups seasoned herbed stuffing mix, crushed (about ¾ cup)

3-4 oz. chopped mushrooms

1/3 cup beef broth

¼ cup sliced green onions

¼ cup sliced almonds, toasted (I don’t like nuts in a lot of things and omit these—you do you.)

¼ cup snipped parsley (also optional)

1 tsp. lemon juice (do not omit—makes a big difference)

1 egg, beaten

2 lbs. ground beef

1 tsp. salt

Directions:

Melt butter in a medium saucepan. Remove from heat and add stuffing mix, mushrooms, beef broth, onions, parsley, almonds if using,  and lemon juice. Thoroughly stir in the beaten egg. (Add it last so that other ingredients will cool the butter and not let it cook the egg.) Set mixture aside.

Combine meat and salt and divide into two equal portions. On sheets of aluminum foil, pat each half into an 8” circle. Spoon stuffing over one circle of meat, leaving a half-inch margin at the edges. Top with second circle and peel off the top piece of foil. Seal the edges of the two patties by pressing together. Invert the meat pattie onto a well-greased grill basket or sheet pan and peel off remaining foil. Grill over medium coals 10-12 minutes on each side or until done. (See above for doing in the broiler.)

Cut into wedges, like a pie, and serve with ketchup. Aunt Amy suggested warmed ketchup, a nicety I’d never thought of. Potato salad would be a good side, because it seems like a picnic meal.

And on another note: Did you know you can still buy original Tupperware? Simply search Heritage Tupperware on Amazon. Now if Amazon would only do that for Corningware!

 

Soup for the soul—and the body

 

January marks the beginning of what poets and novelists often call “the bleak midwinter.” It’s a time when we too often regret the excesses of the holiday season. Did you gain pounds? I never pay attention to that, but I know well the feeling of having had too much rich, heavy food (and there’s still eggnog in my fridge, begging to be drunk). I have friends who annually foreswear alcohol and snacks for the month of January, another resolution I ignore, though I know I drank more wine and ate more chocolate in those days in Santa Fe with my family.

And yet, January can be blustery and cold. In Fort Worth, we call that stock show weather, because sure as rain the annual Southwestern Exposition and Livestock Show (no, it’s no longer called the Fat Stock Show) brings ice, sleet, and cold temperatures. And the weather is in true form this year—the stock show parade (no motorized vehicles) is Saturday, and the temperature is predicted to plunge to ten degrees by Monday morning.

Clearly, it’s soup weather. What’s your favorite? Split pea? Chicken and noodle? Cheeseburger soup? They all sound a bit heavy to me at this point, but I made a pot of chicken soup this week that was flavorful and warming yet light and low in calories. I don’t remember where I got the recipe nor what it was called, so for simplicity’s sake, I’ll call it chicken/avocado/lime soup. Bonus: it’s easy. Here’s what I did:

Ingredients

1-1/2 lbs. boneless, skinless chicken breast

1 Tbsp. olive oil

1 cup chopped green onions (white and green parts)

2 jalapeños, seeded and chopped (leave the seeds if you want your soup hot—if you know me, you know I omitted the peppers)

2 cloves garlic, minced

4 cans low sodium chicken broth (I made four cups with Better than Bouillon and could have used more)

2 Roma tomatoes, seeded and diced

½ tsp. ground cumin

Salt and pepper to taste

1/3 cup chopped cilantro

3 Tbsp. fresh lime juice

3 medium avocados

Optional for garnish: corn chips, sour cream, shredded jack cheese

Directions:

Heat one Tbsp. olive oil in your soup pot and sauté green onions and jalapeños until tender, adding minced garlic at the end—do not let the garlic burn. Add chicken broth, tomatoes, cumin, salt and pepper, and chicken. Bring to a boil and quickly reduce heat to simmer (I wasn’t paying attention and let it boil a bit, which toughens the chicken). Put the lid on the pan and cook until chicken is thoroughly done. Stir from time to time.

Remove chicken from pot and let cool. Keep soup warm on a low setting. When chicken is cool enough to handle, use two forks to shred it and then return it to the soup. Heat to serving temperature. When removed from burner, add cilantro and lime juice. Add avocadoes and any other garnish to individual servings.

This is a lot like tortilla soup but easier to make. And it’s delicious.

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.

Let’s have a lucky 2024

 

Hoppin' Uncle John
image by Freepik

By this time, most of us have that big Christmas dinner planned (except maybe my daughter who says she missed the planning-ahead gene). But we will roast two smaller turkeys for seventeen people, and serve with mashed potatoes, gravy, green bean casserole (made according to Campbell Soup’s classic recipe), dressing (not stuffing), and, we hope, fresh dinner rolls following my mom’s classic recipe. Nobody ever eats dessert, but we may have one or two pies. The non-planning daughter usually makes one of her lattice apple pies.

But now, since I do have the planning gene, it’s time to think about New Year’s. Having spent the first twenty years of my life in Chicago and then a couple of years in northeast Missouri, I’d never heard of black-eyed peas, let alone the tradition about them bringing good luck until I came to Texas. In fact, I came from a household where the only beans we had were northern sweet beans, so I was suspicious of these things—they might be called peas, but they looked like beans to me.

For several years, I just avoided the whole subject, but I’m a sucker for traditions, and eventually I was drawn in. I heard of something called Hoppin’ John. My kids were used to stews and soups, and I thought they might like Hoppin John, with it’s rice, better than a straight serving of peas. So I investigated recipes, adapted one to our taste, and fixed it. The kids called it Hoppin’ Uncle John, in honor of my brother (I don’t know that he was particularly honored!). Here’s what I did:

Ingredients:

4 Tbsp. butter

1 large onion, diced

4 cloves garlic, minced

2 stalks celery, diced

1 lb. black-eyed peas (there’s no shame using canned peas—just use two 15oz. cans, and you don’t need to drain off the liquor—it’s full of taste and vitamins; you also probably don’t need to cook the peas as long)

5 cups chicken broth

1 whole ham hock (you can also use bacon or salt pork, but I like ham best)

1 14 oz. canned tomatoes, optonal

Salt and pepper to taste

Cayenne pepper to taste (optional, and I don’t do it)

2 Tbsp. white vinegar

Rice

Directions

If using dried beans, soak in cold water at least six hours, drain and rinse. Pick out any bad or shriveled peas.

Melt bitter over medium heat, and sauté onion and celery until tender. Add garlic and cook for a couple minutes, stirrng to be sure garlic doesn’t burn. Add peas, broth, and ham hock. Season with salt and pepper and cayenne, if using. Bring to a boil and then simmer for 30-45 minutes.

Remove the ham hock and let cook until you can handle it. (I used to think we needed a whole, bone-in ham, but they are expensive and not popular with my family.) Trim skin and fat off hock and get as much meat as you can. If necessary, chop into small pieces.

While ham hock is cooling, check the pot for liquid. If there’s too much, cook on low wth the lid off until it thickens up; if it’s too thick, add more broth, a bit at a time. You don’t want soup, but you do want enough pot likker to pour over the peas.

Return ham to pot and heat through. Add the vinegar. Serve over rice. If you like, you can mix the rice in, but if you expect to have leftovers, I’d keep it separate. Rice, like pasta, tends to soak up liquid. Garnish with chopped parsley if you’re feeling fancy.

I haven’t made Hoppin’ John in years. I served whole hams and a separate pot of peas, but I think this is the year I’ll try Hoppin’ John again. Serve it with leafy greens (spinach for me, no kale or turnip greens) which represents paper money and cornbread which symbolizes gold. I’ve heard you will earn a penny for every pea you eat on New Year’s Day (hard way to get rich), while others say you should eat 365 peas that first day but leave three on the plate for good luck. You do you—I guess it all depends on how superstitious you are.

Here's to a joyous 2024 with plenty of money, food, and comfort for all!

Green noodles

Sounds a bit like Dr. Seuss’ Green Eggs and Ham, doesn’t it? Don’t be misled. When Jordan was recovering from Covid this week, the first meal she wanted was green noodles, a favorite of both my girls since their schooldays. I don’t remember the boys liked it as much. But it’s such an old recipe that I’m sure I’ve presented it here before, and I make it from scratch, so amounts will be approximate. Adjust to the number you’re serving.

There is a story behind this: Chefs don’t just follow recipes from Julia Child and James Beard and others—they develop their own recipes. Me? I follow other people’s ideas, which is why I’m a cook and not a chef. But green noodles is one recipe I can claim to have developed. The story begins when I was in graduate school and living with my brother and his then-wife in a small, Missouri town.

She told the story of one evening, before they married, when John was coming for supper, and she had no grocery money. She cooked with what was in the fridge and pantry, and the result was spaghetti in lemon butter—she called it meatless spaghetti. John and her children liked it well enough that she fixed it often, and when I left, I took the idea (it wasn’t really a recipe) with me in my head. Gradually over the years, I added things. First, was to substitute spinach fettucine for spaghetti; then I added sliced mushrooms (they soak up the lemon and are delicious); because we love them, I chopped and drained a can of artichoke hearts and added that; next came chopped green onions and a fat garlic clove sliced; then I added an ice-cub size hunk of pesto (I sometimes freeze it in an ice cube tray). Somewhere along the way I began to  sprinkle fresh grated parmesan on the dish just before serving (these days I prefer pecorino). And that’s it—my signature dish!

Ingredients

16 oz. Spinach fettucine (will serve four generously)

1 stick real butter, salted

1 fat garlic clove

4 green onions, chopped

1 can quartered artichoke hearts (not marinated)

½ lb. baby Bella mushrooms, wiped clean and sliced, stems discarded (you can choose to include the stems if you trim off the end)

1 Tbsp. pesto (optional)

Juice of one lemon (you might start with less and taste—a whole lemon gets it very lemony)

Fresh grated parmesan or pecorino

Cook, drain, and rinse noodles. Melt butter in a skillet. (Megan, weight-conscious in high school, used to insist that was too much butter, and it may be, but it’s so good.) Sauté the mushrooms, artichoke hearts, scallions and garlic in the butter. Add lemon juice and pesto. Finally add noodles and toss to coat. Reheat just until noodles are warm again. Top with Parmesan. I serve it in soup plates and often offer crusty baguette slices.

A meatless, one-dish meal.

 

Chicken tetrazzini, chicken spaghetti—or whatever your mom called it

 

 

Image for the algorithms

We didn’t eat much pasta in our house when I was growing up. Dad was a roast beef man, and Mom brought her German heritage to the kitchen. The closest I came to pasta was Franco-American spaghetti in a can. But as a young adult, I had a friend who was much my senior—probably close to fifty years. Freda Powell taught drama at the college level—with some famous students, notably among them Dan Blocker. And she entertained those drama majors in her home frequently. Her go-to dish was chicken tetrazzini which she would make in huge batches. We all loved it.

Recently I had some cooked chicken that I wanted to do something with, but what? It wasn’t enough for a full meal, so I was looking for something for one. And came across a recipe for tetrazzini that I could cut down to fit my need. Aha! Freda’s dish. Finding the recipe was like a reminder of meals from the past. When I made it, it turned out enough to feed me and Christian, who said he didn’t think his mom made tetrazzini. But when he tasted it, it was familiar.

Chicken tetrazzini or whatever you call it is easy, quick, and adaptable. You can make it for two or twenty. And you can make it ahead. Sometimes it just takes a little reminder to put a familiar dish in your dinner rotation. So consider this your reminder.

 

Chicken tetrazzini or chicken spaghetti (or whatever your mom called it)

Ingredients

16 oz linguini

½ cup butter, softened

4 half chicken breasts, cooked and chopped

2 cans cream of chicken soup

2 cups sour cream

1 tsp. garlic salt

½ tsp. dried parsley

½ tsp. pepper

1 cup chicken broth

2 Tbsp. Parmesan cheese, grated (fresh)

2 cups Mozarella cheese, shredded

Directions:

Cook noodles al dente, drain, and set aside

In a large bowl, combine chicken, soup, sour cream, butter, chicken broth, garlic salt, parsley, and pepper. Mix together thoroughly and then stir in the cooked, drained noodles.

Pour into a greased 9x13 baking dish and spread evenly. Sprinkle both cheeses on top.

Bake, uncovered, in 350^o degree oven 35-40 minutes or until cheeses are melting and bubbly. Let it collect itself a bit before serving.

Serves 8. Leftovers will keep in the fridge, well covered, for three day. Frozen leftovers in air-tight contained may be kept for two months.

If freezing uncooked casserole, do not add cheese. Thaw in refrigerator, add cheese, and bake as above.

You may have garlic salt with parsley in your cupboard. That’s what the recipe specifies, but I don’t think it’s worth buying just for this recipe when you can combine dried—or fresh—parsley and garlic salt. That’s a bit of my mom’ d Depression-era frugality coming out in me.

A different salad

I forgot to take a picture, 
so this is borrowed from kathleenashmore.com.
You'll note it shows chickpeas, which I omitted

.

A high in the eighties is a cool snap if you’re in Texas, and we’re having said cool snap today after thunderstorms and brief but heavy rain last night. But I’m always on the lookout for new salads that will serve as the main dish for family meals. So when I came across this one, called LaScala Chopped Salad, I was intrigued by ingredients I don’t usually think of with salad.

The salad has nothing to do with the famous theater in Milan but everything to do with a Beverly Hills restaurant called, appropriately, La Scala and famed for its chopped salad. According to rumor, the Kardashians are extremely fond of this salad, but it is not the famous Kardashian salad which has chicken and carrots and who knows what. Frankly, I don’t care what the Kardashians eat. I am one of those who has never watched the show (it is a show, isn’t it?). But the salad, aside from the source of its fame, was surprisingly good—and popular with my family.

Here's the recipe:

Ingredients:

1 head iceberg lettuce

¼ lb. salami

¼ lb. shredded mozzarella

1-1/2 can chickpeas, drained (I don’t happen to care much for chickpeas and didn’t have any on hand, so I omitted this)

3 Tbsp. olive oil

2 Tbsp. red wine vinegar

1 tsp. Dijon mustard

½ tsp. each salt and pepper

Dressing:

½ cup olive oil

¼ cup red wine vinegar

2 tsp Dijon

½ tsp. each salt and pepper

¼ cup grated pecorino

Sound like the salad gets dressed twice, doesn’t it? Bear with me. Cut the salami into thin strips, not so long as to be difficult to eat. Chop the lettuce.

If you’re using chickpeas, whisk together the oil and vinegar, mustard, salt and pepper listed in ingredients and toss in the chickpeas. Trust me, it was good without them.

Mix together the dressing ingredients and shake or stir to emulsify.

Put the lettuce in a large bowl and toss with half the dressing. Add the salami and mozzarella and taste to adjust the seasoning. Add remaining dressing but be careful not to make your salad soupy.

Presentation is complicated if you use the chickpeas: drain and put in the bottom of a bowl. Pack your salad on top. Then, using a plate to keep everything in place, flip it so that the chickpeas are on top for serving. See? I told you it’s easier to leave out the chickpeas.

Not using the chickpeas? Serve in soup plates and top each serving with a bit more pecorino for appearance sake.

Chicken and eggplant—but not together

 

Eggplant parmagiana
The stack fell over, but that didn't affect the taste. Scrumptious but rich!

For some time now, I’ve been exploring alternatives to rotisserie chicken for use in casseroles and salads. Rotisseries chickens are expensive, but more than that, they are usually loaded with sodium and other flavorings. Plus I find boning them a pain, though Jordan has taught me that they are much easier to bone when they are warm from the store rather than cold from the refrigerator.

Years ago I used to put a piece of frozen chicken—I bought bags of it at Sam’s—in the microwave with salt, pepper, and a slice of onion. Add a dash of bouillon, cover, and microwave. That was when I had teenagers to feed, not much time, and a microwave. Now I realize that was compressed chicken, not real breast pieces, the teenagers are grown, and I have no microwave. When I first gave up rotisserie products, I poached but the chicken was tough. Then I learned there were better ways to poach—barely simmering for ten or fifteen minutes. Better. Then I saw yet another method, which I tried recently for a Cobb salad. Bring a pot of water, covered, to a boil. Immediately turn off the heat, slide the chicken breast into the water and cover. Leave for at least 25 minutes. The chicken was tender, but so pale it had little eye appeal and the flavor was sort of bland.  

So yesterday I was following an old recipe (you can tell by the look of the paper) for a chicken and blue cheese composed salad. It called for coating the chicken breast pieces with cooking spray, salt, and pepper. No kidding? Spray it? My first idea was to put olive oil in the skillet as usual, but then I thought if I was following a recipe, I should do it all the way. I sprayed and used a heavy hand with salt and pepper. I did not pound or flatten the breasts. Once they were suitably browned, I put them on a sheet pan, covered it with foil, and baked (I don’t have an appropriate covered dish in my small kitchen or I wouldn’t have resorted to foil). Although the recipe didn’t call for drippings, I added a bit to the pan. Baked it 15 minutes at 350 and as soon as it cooled, whisked it into the fridge. At dinnertime, I sliced it on a slant, and came up with lovely pieces for a salad. At least for the time being, that’s my preferred method.

The salad I made last night? Tear up some lettuce, dice a green onion, slice a bit of cucumber. Put that in a bowl and dress with vinaigrette. I didn’t like the recipe dressing—olive oil, balsamic vinegar, and mustard was too sweet. Next time I’ll make an oil and lemon dressing. Divide the salad evenly among plates, top with sliced chicken and sliced tomatoes. Sprinkle with crumbled blue cheese.

Wow! I had no idea I had so much to say about chicken. The recipe I meant to share this week is for a quick Eggplant parmigiana, and I stole it from Martha Stewart. Eggplant parmigiana is a chore to make and no one else here will touch eggplant, so I was delighted to find this quick method. You have to start this the night before. Here’s what you need (serves two):

1 medium eggplant

Salt and pepper

Thick tomato sauce (I used crushed tomatoes, Pomi label)

Sliced mozzarella

Parmesan

Italian herb seasoning

Bread crumbs

The night before serving, slice the eggplant into six slices, lay slices out on paper towels on a sheet pan, and salt lightly. Cover and refrigerate. Next day, rinse slices and pat dry.

Heat oven to 400. Replace paper towel with parchment paper. Brush each slice with olive oil and bake 20 minutes.

Make two stacks: eggplant slice, mozzarella slice, tomato sauce, sprinkling of Italian herbs, salt and pepper, and Parmesan; repeat layer, ending with third piee of eggplant. Cover that top slice with fresh bread crumbs. You may want to use toothpicks to hold stacks upright.

Bake at 350 for 20 minutes. Martha says you can serve hot or warm.

Eggplant stacks ready to go in the oven.

Lazy Lady’s Peach Pie—and a comment on cooking shortcuts

 

My not-so-pretty but oh-so-delicious peach galette.

A couple of weeks ago a friend brought me a bounty from her family’s farmer’s market in Rio Vista—a cantaloupe, yellow squash, zucchini, tomatoes, and two huge but rock-hard peaches. I used most of it up immediately, but I kept eyeing those peaches. They were ripening, and I needed to do something with them, but what? We are not dessert eaters, but Christian said he’d eat a peach cobbler with me.

So Saturday morning, I looked up several recipes for peach cobbler. To my dismay, each called for at least two cups of sugar. Way too much! I decided against cobbler for that reason, plus if I were to make it, I’d have to ask Jordan and Christian to drop everything they were doing and bring me a list of ingredients plus a dish. I did not have enough flour or sugar, and I think milk may have been involved.

I thought about what I could do with what I had and my brain hit on the puff pastry in the freezer. I decided to make a galette, a sort of free form pastry where, instead of a trim pie crust, you pile ingredients in the middle of the dough and pull the edges up and over the fruit. It called for one tablespoon sugar. Much more my style. So here’s what I did:

Peach galette (serves six)

1 sheet puff pastry

2 Tbsp brown sugar

½ tsp. cinnamon (optional, but I recommend it)

¼ tsp. salt

1 Tbsp. lemon juice

1 tsp. vanilla extract (I used a scant tsp. almond, and it was delicious)

2-3 large peaches, ripe but still slightly firm, sliced

2 Tbsp. melted butter

Thaw the puff pastry sheet, and when thawed, roll out on a lightly floured board. Roll until thin and roughly in a circle. Line a baking sheet with a pastry sheet and transfer the pastry to it.

Whisk together brown sugar, cinnamon, lemon juice, salt, and flavoring in large bowl. Add sliced peaches, tossing gently but thoroughly to be sure each slice is coated.

If you are a compulsive neat baker, line peaches around pastry in concentric circles. If you’re like me, dump the peaches into the middle of the pastry and even out, leaving a good overlap of dough at the edges. Pull the edges of the pastry up and over the outside of the peaches. Brush all pastry edges with melted butter. Score the outer edges of the pastry.

Bake at 375 until the pastry puffs up and is golden—about forty-five minutes but watch it closely. If the pastry starts to turn too dark, remove from oven. Let sit twenty minutes before cutting into wedges. Serve with whipped cream or a dollop of ice cream, though it is good plain—and makes a great alternative breakfast.

I call this a lazy lady’s pie, because it means, at least to me, that I was too lazy to roll out a proper dough for a two-crust pie. Truth is, I have rarely made a scratch pie crust but have used a lot of frozen ones in my long years of cooking. And that leads to yet another confession: though I pride myself on being a scratch cook who would never, for instance, serve a frozen prepared meal, I am not above shortcuts. My most glaring sin in the eyes of purist cooks is that I used canned soups in casseroles. Granted, I am perfectly capable of making a white sauce and seasoning it until it adds perhaps more flavor than the canned soup, but I don’t do it. I used dried pasta (albeit a good brand from Central Market) rather than make my own pasta—yes, I’ve tried it, and it was a pain. I do draw the line at some things: instant mashed potatoes are a no and Minute Rice only goes into one recipe that I can’t figure out how to make without it and the dish is a family favorite.

Part of my philosophy about cooking—and behind my Gourmet on a Hot Plate columns—is to make home cooking easy enough for the home cook that’s it’s pleasant and not a chore. And it should never be a source of guilt. If you want to make tuna casserole with Campbell’s cream of mushroom soup, go for it. Don’t let some purist shame you because you use canned soup and who eats tuna casserole anyway? It’s so fifties. Well, I for one love tuna casserole—and make it with cream of mushroom soup.

And I’m going to keep on making galettes instead of pies. They may not be pretty, but they taste good, and they are easy.