Tossed salad classics

 

Caesar Salad appetizer

When I was growing up (I realize I say that a lot about food!), we had a leafy green salad on the dinner table almost every night. I notice now that my family has cut way back on such salads. We’ll sub a green vegetable, like asparagus or green beans, or the other night it was a marinated cucumber salad. We also really like main-dish salads—Big Mac salad, taco salad, Columbia Salad. I have mixed feelings about this because I think there’s a real place on the table for a salad that highlights lettuce and dressing, maybe with a bit of bleu cheese, avocado, tomato, but the focus is on greens and the  dressing.

According to internet wisdom, whatever that is, home cooks should be familiar with two classic dressings: Julia Child’s Sauce Vinaigrette and the original Caesar from Cesar Cardini. Ladies first.

Julia Child's Sauce Vinaigrette

2 tablespoons wine vinegar or a combination of vinegar and lemon juice 

1/4 teaspoon dry mustard

1/8 teaspoon salt

6 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil and/or salad oil, such as grapeseed oil

1 1/2 teaspoons minced shallot or scallions and/or ¼ teaspoon dried herbs, such as tarragon or basil

Big pinch of freshly ground pepper

Directions

Combine vinegar, mustard, and salt in a bowl; whisk until dissolved. Whisk in oil, shallot (or scallions and/or herbs) and pepper. (Alternatively, combine all ingredients in a screw-top jar; cover and shake vigorously for 30 seconds to blend thoroughly.) Taste carefully and adjust seasoning as desired.

Traditionally, the oil/acid ratio in a salad is 3:1, so it’s of note that Child calls for 5:1.

Caesar Salad

If you’re ever on a quiz show and asked, “In what country was Caesar salad invented?” be sure to say Mexico. The salad was a last-minute inspiration by Caesar Cardini at his restaurant in Tijuana in 1924. Traditionally, it is tossed tableside. There is much controversy today over the use of the raw egg yolks—I use them, figuring in the US the egg has been pasteurized (mostly I wish they weren’t but this is an exception) and the vinegar will “cook” it. You do you.

Ingredients

2 egg yolks

¾ cup extra virgin olive oil

4 anchovies, chopped

½ Tbsp. Dijon mustard

1 Tbsp. Worcestershire sauce

2 cloves garlic minced

1 Tbsp. fresh lemon juice

¾ cup freshly grated parmesan

¼ tsp salt

½ tsp black pepper

Directions

Whisk two egg yolks in a bowl until creamy (about two minutes). Add the olive oil and whisk until well combined. Stir in the anchovies, Worcestershire sauce, Dijon mustard, and lemon juice until completely combined. Add salt, pepper, and parmesan cheese. Serve with romaine lettuce (no other), croutons, and shaved parmesan cheese.

Some culinary experts claim the original Caesar was no tossed at all, but individual leaves were served, each tipped with a bit of the dressing. I have had it served that way in restaurants. It makes good finger food. We experimented with it as an appetizer (photo above).

Wilted lettuce

Let me add one more that I think should be classic, especially if you can get spring lettuce freshly pulled from the ground.

Ingredients

6 strips bacon, diced and fried – reserve the grease

2 Tbsp. vinegar

4 cups leaf lettuce

Some people add mustard, brown sugar, onions, radishes, etc. but this is the way my mom did it, and I prefer.

Fry the diced bacon until crisp. Remove from skillet to drain on paper towel. Meanwhile tear four cups lettuce into your salad bowl. Pour warm bacon grease over lettuce (if you need to heat it a bit, do so—it must be warm). Splash vinegar over salad and toss until every leaf is coated. Taste for seasoning—adding salt, pepper or sugar, more vinegar or more oil, is up to you.

 

Intimidation in the kitchen

 

Our potluck lunch
Clockwise, from 12:00: tuna salad, marinated tomatoes slices,
cheese snacks, Greek salad, pesto/challah

I let myself get intimidated in the kitchen today. A former student was coming for lunch. When I knew Heather, she was an English major at TCU and an intern at TCU Press. She went on to work for Harcourt in downtown Fort Worth, but then she disappeared off my radar only to reappear a few years later, having studied at the Culinary Institute of America. Today, as a classically trained chef she is part of the food service team at a local retirement community. For a while a few years ago, Heather and I had lunch regularly as she helped me with my cookbook, Gourmet on a Hot Plate. The cookbook was finished, we discovered we had severe political differences, and the lunches just sort of drifted away. But Heather called last week to say she’d written and published a children’s book and wanted to brag to me and bring me a copy. She would bring lunch. Let me add she did absolutely nothing to intimidate me—I did it to myself.

Letting her provide lunch seemed inhospitable to me, so I suggested we each contribute something—we’d have a potluck lunch. What do you fix when a chef comes to lunch? I found instructions for a tomato/spinach/cheese thing and thought that was unusual and creative enough. So I ordered frozen chopped spinach with my groceries—and Central Market cancelled it. No sub, just no spinach. Punt! By then I had no shopping options (not driving is sometimes a relief, occasionally a pain). I finally told her I would make my signature tuna salad. So, I have two sort-of recipes for you this week:

The tomato/spinach/cheese thing

Sliced heirloom tomatoes

Balsamic vinegar

Spinach – I think creamed would be good, but just cooked with butter, salt and pepper would be good. Sauté with garlic.

Cheese – the recipe called for mozzarella, but I think I’d use good old sharp cheddar

Marinate tomato slices in Balsamic. Bake at 350 for about 7 minutes.

Top tomatoes with spinach and then with grated cheese.

Broil until cheese melts and is golden.

I will order spinach again this week and plan to try to fix this to a friend Monday, so I will report.

A friend asked me this morning why I applied the word “signature” to my tuna salad (I think she thought I was being pretentious). But Jordan doesn’t like anybody else’s tuna, so here’s what I do. It begins with good tuna, and I’ve mentioned this before. I order tuna from the Pisces fishing vessel in Oregon—it is line caught (no nets) while dolphins swim unharmed next to the boat. The tuna is heated only once in the canning process (most fish is canned twice) and seasoned only with salt. So good. You can get albacore in water or smoked albacore. I prefer the plain.

1 6-oz. can tuna, flaked (today I gave it a spin in my counter processor to make it light and fluffy)

1 large green onion, sliced

1 stalk celery, finely minced

Salt and pepper

Juice of one large lemon—lots of juice

Mayonnaise – just enough to bind; don’t make tuna soup out of it

Mix thoroughly and chill before serving.

No nuts, no grapes, no pickle, no mustard. It’s a simplistic tuna salad.

Heather brought Greek salad, a wonderful challah with pesto rolled into the dough, and berry muffins. Our plates overflowed and looked gorgeous besides. We talked books and writing and cooking—and politics. We differ, but we were able to talk reasonably about it and to some extent express why we feel the way we do. That’s what this world needs more it—calm discussion. It was a lovely lunch, and I look forward to another visit with Heather. I may let her fix the whole thing next time.

A note about food safety: I’ve had two events recently that made me conscious of food safety. One was my own fault: I had put a lb. of hamburger out to thaw around supper time, intending to refrigerate it before I went to bed. Only I forgot and woke at six in the morning with the clear thought that the hamburger was still on the counter. We froze it until we could put it out with the garbage today.

I mentioned this on the blog, but I was opening a jar of pickled herring for Mary D. on Tuesday night. As I cut off the cellophane collar, I realized my fingers were wet and smelled like herring. Sometimes it’s hard to get the lid off jars like that, but this time without my touching it, the lid popped off. I screwed it back on, washed the counter and the outside of the jar with soap and water, and then washed my hands thoroughly. Next day I called Central Market: they told me that someone else had lodged a similar complaint, the product had been removed from their shelves and the manufacturer notified, and they would credit my account. The credit was the least of it, but I was pleased that they took action on keeping others safe.

As we move toward warm weather, I am much aware that food poisoning can attack when you’re the least bit careless. So, watch your potato salad, devilled eggs, and, yes, tuna salad—plus a lot of other dishes.

Stay careful and safe!

 

Notes on spring lamb

 

When I moved to Texas a century ago, I was surprised that few people ate lamb. In our Chicago household, a good leg of lamb was a frequent entrée, and the cold lamb sandwich with mayonnaise the next day was a special treat. For those who don’t know, it’s important to distinguish between lamb and mutton. Lamb comes from an animal less than a year old; mutton is from any older than that, though some people put an intermediate year in there and say mutton comes from three-year-olds. Lamb has a distinct but pleasant taste, though I know some who can’t be in the same room with it; mutton is decidedly gamey and tough, requires long cooking.

Long ago I once bought a leg of lamb in cryovac at a local grocery store; when I opened the packaging, it smelled awful. I rushed back to the grocery, where the butcher said it was mutton, not lamb, from either Australia or New England. That’s funny, because parts of West Texas have long been known as sheep country, more than cattle. But I’ve read that lamb consumption and wool production have both declined since the post-WWII day. For me these days, lamb is a rare treat mostly because it is expensive. Also I’m not sure I could cook a leg of lamb in a toaster oven—it would have to be a small, boned roast. I do make it a point to buy fresh, never frozen lamb from Central Market. If you have a dedicated butcher’s store nearby, you can usually get it there too.

In my years in Texas, I’ve learned there’s more than a leg of lamb, though someday I will share my $8,000 leg of lamb recipe. Meantime, when I want a lamb sandwich I buy sliced Greek-seasoned lamb at Central Market. A lamb loin chop makes a nice meal for me if I’m eating alone—I sauté it in butter until it’s medium rare, remove from skillet, and make a sauce of a bit more butter and an anchovy filet. I don’t do it for the family because Jordan and Christian would need two chops each, and that gets to be an expensive meal. I do think we should try grilling them sometime. You can also buy sirloin chops, a variety of roasts beyond the leg, stew meat, and ground lamb. Rack of lamb is considered a great delicacy and is, unfortunately, priced to show that. If you buy a shoulder, have the butcher bone it—I did it myself once, and it was a lot of work plus I cut myself.

Today I want to leave you with two recipes for ground lamb. The first is a ragu that is quick and easy, and my family likes it a lot.

Lamb ragu

2 Tbsp. olive oil

1 medium sweet onion, finely chopped

4 garlic cloves (I have recently discovered frozen, pureed garlic cloves at Trader Joe’s—so easy and timesaving!)

Salt and pepper to taste

2 anchovy filets or one tsp anchovy paste

2 Tbsp. tomato paste (this about uses up the small 4 oz. can but you can also buy it in a tube)

1 28-oz. can crushed tomatoes.

Parmesan or Pecorino cheese for serving.

Sauté onions and garlic in oil and season with salt and pepper. When onions are soft, add anchovies and cook stirring until they melt in—it doesn’t take long. Add tomato paste and cook, stirring occasionally, for two or three minutes. Season lamb with salt and pepper and add to skillet, stirring until it releases its fat and crumbles into small bits. Add tomatoes and half a tomato can of water, being sure to get all the tomato bits left in the can. Cook on medium-low until sauce thickens, about half an hour.

Caution: although recipe calls for salt twice, do use a bit of caution, because the anchovy is salty.

Serve on pasta topped with grated cheese. I have recently learned about bronze-cut pasta, which is a rougher texture and holds a sauce better. With this ragu, I prefer a thick noodle like pappardelle.

Lamb burgers

Every time I see a new recipe for lamb burgers, I clip it. As a result, I’ve got five or six recipes we’ve tried. My big mistake is that I didn’t make notes on each as to how much we liked it. The other night we tried a new recipe that both Jordan and Christian declared the best so far.

1 lb. ground lamb

1 shallot, finely chopped

2 Tbsp. Worcestershire sauce

1 Tbsp. Dijon

¾ tsp, dried thyme

Salt and pepper to taste, divided use

Optional sauce:

½ cup mayonnaise

¼ cup sour cream

1 garlic clove, grated (see above recipe for frozen garlic)

Optional: 1 Tbsp. Dijon or 1 tsp. horseradish—I liked the horse radish

Mix burger ingredients together with a bit of salt and pepper and shape into four patties. Refrigerate at least 30 minutes. Sprinkle lightly with salt and pepper before cooking. Christian grilled these but I imagine you could do them in a skillet. The refrigeration gave them a lighter texture than usual.

Serve on buns spread with sauce. Top with feta and red onion slices. The recipe recommended brioche buns, but we did not like them and will not do that again. They were too much bread. Next time I’ll go back to good old potato bread buns.

 

                                                                                                                                                                                                    

The Noble Sandwich

 

When I was growing up, sandwiches were for lunch, never dinner. And were, according to my father’s rules about table manners, the only food you picked up with your hands (we never, ever had fried chicken). But today, my family enjoys a good hearty sandwich for supper. And with summer coming, we’re looking for lighter meals. We may be fooling ourselves about lightness, but it’s a change from casseroles or meat and potatoes.  Here are some of our favorites—note that these are what I call knife-and-fork sandwiches and wouldn’t be good picnic fare. I have excluded a Dagwood because it’s complicated, and I think I’ve shared it before. These suggestions are all for one sandwich.

The Colonial Open-Faced Sandwich

I think this is pretty universal, but I always associate it with Colonial Country Club because that’s where I first ate it more years ago than I care to remember. I haven’t been there for quite some time, but last I knew it wasn’t on the menu, but you could ask for it.

Ingredients:

1 slice rye bread

Sliced ham

Sliced turkey

Sliced Swiss cheese

Thousand Island dressing

Sliced hard-boiled egg.

Layer ingredients in the order listed. Whether to toast the bread or not, is up to you. At Colonial, it’s served with a pickle spear and cole slaw.

Sub sandwich Alter/Burton style

This is a copy of our favorite sandwich at a local chain. We vary the ingredients to suit each person’s taste.

Ingredients:

Hoagie roll coated with mayonnaise, mustard, Thousand Island dressing, ketchup, whatever you want. I prefer mayonnaise.

Meat – your choice. Jordan, Christian and Jacob like turkey and pastrami; I prefer ham and capricola or mortadella; you can sub deli roast beef, roast lamb, salami, whatever you want.

Cheese – we generally use provolone, but you can use Swiss, cheddar, etc.

Shredded lettuce

Chopped tomato (except for Christian)

Splash of red wine vinegar

Scattering of dried oregano

Parmesan

Layer it in the order given

The Marshall Field Sandwich

Growing up in Chicago, Marshall Field and company was a magic place. I’m pretty sure I ate this sandwich in their restaurant called The Verandah. I was delighted to come across it recently.

Ingredients:

Thousand Island dressing

2 Tbsp. butter

One slice rye bread

Shredded iceberg lettuce

2 slices Swiss cheese

3 slices deli turkey breast

1 slice tomato

Pitted black olives (I omit because olives and I are not friends)

Sliced hard-boiled egg

8 slices bacon

Butter the bread and then layer ingredients as listed through turkey breast. Cover with Thousand Island dressing

Use tomato, egg, olive (speared on a toothpick) and bacon as garnish

Roast beef sandwich

This has a more descriptive name, but I can’t remember it and can’t find the recipe.

1 slice rye bread (you can easily make this a regular sandwich with two slices bread or a hamburger bun; we found the recommended brioche bun was too much bread.

A couple slices deli roast beef (lamb would be good, if you like it)

One or two slices cheddar

Sliced tomato

Thousand Island dressing

Sauteed shallots – I keep quick-pickled red onion in the fridge and found them tastier than the shallots. But to sauté shallots, slice very thin. Spread olive oil in skillet and put sliced shallots in cold skillet. Raise heat to medium high and cook, stirring frequently, until they are browned and caramelized. They burn quickly, so don’t step away from the skillet. Drain on paper towels before using to garnish sandwich.

Quick pickled red onion

Slice one red onion thinly, making uniform slices if you can. Pack into a glass jar. In a small pan, heat 1 cup white vinegar, 1 cup water, 2 Tbsp. sea salt and 1 Tbsp. sugar (you might increase sugar, depending on your taste). Heat until sugar and salt are melted. Cool slightly and pour over sliced onion. Let sit uncovered until room temperature. Then add cover to the jar and refrigerate. Will keep in fridge for some time.

Thousand Island dressing

These sandwiches call for Thousand Island, and I never ever buy commercially prepared. You do you, but here’s a basic recipe:

1 cup mayonnaise

2 tsp. Dijon mustard

1 tsp. apple cider vinegar

½ tsp sugar

2 Tbsp.  chili sauce

2Tbsp. pickle relish

1 tsp. Worcestershire sauce

1 hard-boiled egg, minced

Salt and pepper to taste

Spring is salad time

Panzanella

With flowers blooming and trees leafing out, days growing longer, and weather warming, my mind turns to lighter foods. Much as I love them, I pretty much put stew and casserole recipes aside to wait for next winter. Salads are high on my menus. In the household of my childhood, we had a green salad with homemade vinaigrette almost every night. Fortunately, my family likes salads. I always have leaf lettuce on hand for a quick salad to round out a meal, but lately I’ve noticed that we aren’t eating as many green salads. On the contrary, we’ve enjoyed several no-lettuce salads. Here are two of my favorites (note that you have to prepare some ingredients in each well ahead of time):

Pea salad

This is strictly an adult discovery for me, not something I grew up eating. I first found it at the deli counter of local grocery stores, but I soon learned that making my own was better. Commercial versions have bacon bits which I consider a discordant taste, and the cheese was often small chunks of processed cheese like Velveeta. So I adapted the recipe to my tastes, specifically adding hard-boiled eggs. With cheese, eggs, and peas, this can qualify as a light lunch that hits the major food groups.

Ingredients

1 lb. frozen peas (petite are best)

½ small red onion, sliced

3 hard-boiled eggs, chopped

½ small bunch parsley

2 oz. sharp cheddar, grated

¼ cup sour cream

¼ cup mayonnaise

1 Tbsp. apple cider vinegar

1 tsp. Worcestershire

1/4 tsp, each salt and pepper

Directions:

Let peas thaw on counter for about three hours.

Put sour cream, mayonnaise, vinegar, and Worcestershire in large bowl. Add remaining ingredients. Stir thoroughly to be sure all ingredients are coated with dressing. Chill at least four hours before serving.

If you want to add bacon, I would suggest frying 6 slices; drain and crumble into salad just before serving.

Panzanella (or Italian bread) salad

This is another one I’ve only discovered in recent years. It speaks to my love of croutons that soak up a good vinaigrette. The recipe I have serves 10-12, way beyond any entertaining I can do in the cottage. I have halved it here.

Ingredients

4-5 cups cubed artisan bread

4 cups (one large or two medium) heirloom tomatoes, chopped

1/3 cucumber, sliced

½ medium red or yellow bell pepper, cut in bite-sized pieces (I omit this—bell pepper and I are not friends)

½ small red onion, thinly sliced

¼ cup good olive oil

1/8 cup red wine vinegar

1/4  tsp. salt

Pepper to taste

1 tsp. dried basil or ½ cup thinly sliced fresh basil

Directions:

Spread bread cubes in a single layer on a cookie sheet and let sit on counter, uncovered, overnight to dry and harden. Or, you can bake them at 300^o F. for 15 lor 20 minutes, stirring a couple of times.

Chop the vegetables, An extra trick: soak onion rings in cold water for ten minutes to soften their bite.

Combine bread and vegetables in a large bowl, preferably non-reactive like glass. Pour vinaigrette (oil, vinegar, salt and pepper) over mixture. Be sure to mix thoroughly.

Let salad stand at room temperature anywhere from half an hour to four hours, stirring occasionally. Add basil just before serving.

Leftovers do not keep well.

I’ll be keeping an eye out for other salads for your spiring enjoyment. Happy eating!

 

 

An old-fashioned breakfast that makes a great dinner

 

Picture courtesy Freepik.com

Today’s recipe, Farmer’s Breakfast, is a memory from my mom’s kitchen. As many of you know, I’m slowly putting together a cookbook of food we ate in the fifties (my teen years), and I’ll call it, I think, Mom and Me in the Kitchen. It turns out so far to be a whole lot of recipes from my mom and, in truth, a tribute to her. So a bit about Mom is maybe appropriate.

Alice Marie Peterman Peckham MacBain was born in Kankakee, Illinois, in 1900. Grandpa Peterman was an engineer on the Illinois Central line and Granny (Anna) was a housewife. The couple were first generation Germans. Mom never talked about her childhood much, but I gather the food was heavily influenced by German dishes. I know she loved sausages and hated sauerkraut. I think today’s recipe traces back to her childhood. I can easily imagine Granny Peterman cooking it, though by the time I knew her Granny did little but sit in a chair.

Mom lived through the Spanish Flu epidemic, two world wars, and the Depression. The Great Depression left an indelible mark on her. I never heard her mention what life was like in those years. But when I was with her in the kitchen, I saw the clear signs. We saved bits of string, tied into one huge ball; bits of foil, rolled into a ball for the war effort in the Forties though I have no idea where or how she delivered these treasures.  We massaged color pills into blocks of—lard, I guess. It was white, and those little red pills were supposed to turn it the color of butter so we would be fooled. In her new 1950s kitchen, Mom had a special space for storing used paper towels—she would wipe a counter with a clean towel and then stash it; next time there was a floor spill, she pulled out that once-used towel. She countenanced no waste: when I had my own home, feeding a family of six, I didn’t save tiny bits of leftovers—it was pointless (until I learned to make soup). Scraps wouldn’t feed all of us, but when visiting Mom would say sarcastically, “I know. Just pitch it.” In her last years, when we moved her out of her house, we found tiny baby food jars in the back of the refrigerator with who knows what—whatever it was, much of it had begun to mold. I am, by contrast, not a frugal cook but sort of living alone, I save leftovers for lunch and hate to see food wasted. Mom’s saving ways definitely have had an effect on me.

Soup of the week illustrates Mom’s frugality. She put those saved leftovers to good by using them in what I came to call soup of the week. A dab of this, a bit of that meat, a few spoonfuls of a casserole, some fresh vegetables—it all went into the soup pot, perhaps augmented with chicken broth or canned tomatoes. I used to do that for my kids. Even though it almost always turned a muddy brown in color, they liked it.

Mom had a lot of sadness in her life, but she kept a positive outlook on life. Through the death of one husband, the loss of an infant of six months, the prolonged death of her sister due to cancer, Mom mostly kept a wonderful sense of humor. I can still see her telling stories of when all the aunts and uncles were young—tears of laughter would roll down her cheeks as she told those stories. And I have my own stories of Mom’s laughter in the kitchen—it is probably my best memory of her.

One of the frugal dishes I remember was what she called farmer’s breakfast. Mom fried some bacon, then fried potatoes in the grease. She added sliced green onions and grated cheddar cheese and then stirred up some eggs and poured them over the mixture. Once the eggs solidified and held together, she served it. I loved it, and when it came my turn and I served it to my children, they too loved it. What’s not to like? I somehow forgot all about it until a recent email from America’s Test Kitchen (one of my favorite sources) featured Bauernfrühstück (German Farmer’s Breakfast). There it was—Mom’s dish. So, here’s my adaptation of the recipe, a blend of my memories of Mom and the amounts recommended by America’s Test Kitchn (not all ingredients are the same):

Farmer’s Breakfast (serves four)

Ingredients

4 slices bacon

Four green onions, chopped

2 llbs. Yukon Gold potatoes

1 cup cheddar, grated

6 eggs, beaten

½ tsp. salt

¼ tsp. pepper

Ketchup

2 Tbsp. butter, if needed

Directions

Fry the bacon until crisp. Removed from skillet and drain on paper towels.

Peel the potatoes or not—Yukon gold have such thin skins. I’m sure, however, when I was a teen, we never heard of Yukon gold and Mom used good old Russet or Idaho potatoes which she would have scrubbed and peeled. Dice the potatoes (you might want to sprinkle an extra bit of salt on them) and fry in the bacon grease, getting as good a crisp crust as you can. IF there is not enough grease, add a Tbsp. of butter. Stir in green onions and sauté briefly. Stir in grated cheese.

Separately add salt and pepper to eggs and beat until well blended. Over medium heat, stir eggs into potato mixture, stirring to make sure the eggs are well incorporated. While they eggs cook occasionally use a spatula to lift up the mixture and let uncooked eggs run under it where they will cook. When eggs solidify to the point you want (don’t get them too hard), crumble the bacon in and stir again. Serve hot immediately with optional ketchup.

This is like spoon-feeding your family cholesterol, and I recognize it’s not a dish any of us should eat often. But sometimes, it’s just perfect. A few of our neighbors occasionally get together for an event we call “Brinner” (breakfast as dinner). The next time we do, this is what I’ll bring.

 

 

 

 

 

Calf fries and sauerkraut soup

 

Before I ask how you weigh in on either of these dishes, let me give you a bit of history: About 1912, a young immigrant arrived in New York from Macedonia (a country now gone that was in the Balkans). By the 1920s, Theo Yordanoff had opened a “hole in the wall” restaurant on Exchange Avenue in Fort Worth, close to the packing houses. When a customer asked for calf fries, which were not on the menu, Yordanoff did some investigating and found that the packing houses would give him, at no cost, all the calf testicles he wanted. He battered them like chicken-fried steak, served them with cream gravy, and his restaurant immediately became part of Fort Worth history.

Confession: I have never eaten calf fries. I have eaten turkey fries and enjoyed them—obviously much smaller. But neither one are what I remember about the Saddle and Sirloin. I went there a few times in the Seventies and Eighties, before it closed, and had the sauerkraut soup, called kapusta. Loved it. Today, Riscky’s Steakhouse has replaced the Saddle and Sirloin, but they still serve calf fries and kapusta.

My history with sauerkraut: I never tasted it until I was grown and away from home. My mother was of German ancestry and apparently had to eat sauerkraut as a child. She despised it but loved German sausages. In my twenties, my brother was married to a woman who caramelized kraut in a skillet, slowly and patiently cooking it with butter and sugar. It was delicious. Since then, I’ve learned to love kraut on hot dogs, sauteed kraut with onions and wine, Reuben sandwiches, kraut almost any way you can fix it.

My friend Mary V. comes for dinner every two or three weeks, and bless her, she eats whatever my experimental dish of the day is. So one day I asked if she liked kraut, and she replied that she loved it. I fixed something with kraut (now I can’t remember what) and had a lot left over. So I decided that next time she came for supper, I’d fix sauerkraut soup. I studied online recipes for kapusta but didn’t find any that sounded just right. Most didn’t have the tomatoes that I remembered. So I printed off a basic recipe and decided to take off on my own. I’m not a chef who writes recipes, but I do often adapt. In this case, I adapted both quantity (I aimed for two servings, ended up with three or four) and taste. Here’s what I did:

Sauerkraut soup

Ingredients:

1 Tbsp, vegetable oil

1 small onion, diced

½ lb. ground beef

8 oz. sauerkraut, drained and rinsed

½ cup white wine

1 cup beef broth

1 14 oz. can diced tomatoes, undrained

Salt and pepper to taste

½ tsp. sugar

Sour cream for garnish

Brown onion in oil until soft and translucent. Add meat, breaking up into crumbles. Brown and drain if needed. Add remaining ingredients except sour cream. Bring to a boil and simmer, covered, for 45 minutes to an hour.

Serve hot in soup plates with a dollop of sour cream. Rye bread is a nice accompaniment.

Jo étvágyat