Get creative with tuna

 

One of the shortcomings of the tiny kitchen in my cottage is the lack of storage space. And one of the things I need to store is a case of tuna—that’s twenty-four cans. I order it from a mom-and-pop fishing vessel in Oregon. It’s canned the day it’s caught, in water, only heated once. Delicious. Storage is only a problem for a while, because we eat a lot of tuna. (I also buy canned salmon from the same source—love it!)

Jordan, the resident daughter, loves the tuna salad we make, but she won’t consider tuna served any other way. In contrast, I am happy with tuna casserole, creamed tuna on toast, tuna Florentine (a complicated dish I just made for company), and I’m willing to try new ways with tuna. I think two or three weeks ago I mentioned a tuna/bean salad that didn’t come out the way I wanted. Here’s a version that did turn out right and couldn’t be easier—Megan, the Austin daughter, and I had it last weekend and gave it high marks, after I fiddled with it a bit.

Tuna/bean salad

1 15-oz. can white beans (should be cannellini, but I had navy beans and they worked just fine)

1 7 oz. can tuna (original recipe called for oil-packed, but I prefer to use water-packed and compensate with extra olive oil)

1 lemon, including zest.

¼ c. pesto

2 Tbsp. olive oil, or more to make up for using water-packed tuna.

1 tsp. Dijon mustard

Salt and pepper to taste

Drain and rinse beans; drain tuna; grate the lemon zest and then squeeze the lemon, saving the juice. Stir everything together. Chill before serving.

Want to do a sandwich something with a can of tuna? A tuna sandwich that is not tuna salad? Make it into a composed salad on bread—at least that’s the best way I can describe it.

A different tuna salad

Four ciabatta rolls or one loaf of French or Italian bread

1 7 oz. can tuna

4 hard-boiled eggs, sliced

Salt and pepper

Watercress; if not available, arugula or romaine lettuce (watercress adds a nice, peppery taste)

Salsa Verde (recipe follows)

Directions

Split rolls or bread; some might use a baguette, but I find them too skinny. If using French or Italian bread, cut into four serving-size pieces and split. Arrange lettuce, tuna, eggs artfully on one side of bread. Salt and pepper to taste. Cover generously with salsa. Either top with the other half of the bread or serve the sandwich open-faced.

Salsa Verde

1 c. parsley

½ c. good olive oil, more if needed

2 garlic cloves, micro planed or minced.

3 or 4 anchovy filets

1 Tbsp. capers

Zest of a lemon

Salt and pepper

Mix parsley and olive oil thoroughly in food processor. Add remaining ingredients by hand. Taste for salt and pepper. Add more olive oil if needed for a spreadable consistency. You want it thin enough to generously top the sandwiches.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Don’t throw away those old recipes

 

Recently a search for a much-used crockpot pulled pork recipe sent me prowling through old files of recipes I’d clipped and served over the years. My great downsizing several years ago had involved heavy thinning of my appalling collection of recipes, but there were some I just couldn’t part with. They went in file folders to be tucked away in the filing cabinet in my closet—don’t ask! Looking for that barbecue recipe, I came across several treasures that were familiar down to the stains that indicated they had been well used.

One was a recipe for pork medallions with a tarragon sauce. It’s from a page in a September 1984 issue of Woman’s Day. It’s on a page titled, “30 Minute Meals.” The paper is yellowed and fragile, and I photocopied it for safety’s sake.

Food writer Mark Bittman has a version of this that calls for browning the entire tenderloin before cutting it into medallions. I tried his version a few days after the older one from my files, and while I agree with him about browning the whole piece of meat, I liked the original recipe best. I did substitute sour cream for heavy cream, mostly because that’s what I had on hand. It worked well. Here’s what I did.

Ingredients

Pork tenderloin, about 1-1/2 lbs.

1 Tbsp. Dijon mustard

2 Tbsp. butter

½ c. beef broth

½ tsp. tarragon

½ c. sour cream

Directions

Brown the tenderloin on all sides in butter; you can curve it to fit the skillet. When it has a nice sear, remove from skillet and cool enough to handle. Slice into medallions, about 1-1/2 inch thick. Use meat tenderizer or other tool to flatten the medallions just a bit.

Spread thin layer of mustard on one side of each medallion. Brown the medallions, mustard-side down, in same skillet. You may want to add a bit more butter, but remember that pork makes it’s own fat. It should only take three or four minutes to get a nice brown in one side; turn and brown the other side. Remove medallions from pan and keep warm (I put them on a cookie sheet in a cold oven; if you heat the oven keep it low, like 200^o—pork dries out easily.)

Add beef broth and tarragon to skillet and scrape browned bits off bottom of pan. Cook gently until broth reduces by a third. At this point, you can put dinner on hold if necessary, if the meat is kept warm. When ready to serve, add sour cream to broth, stir to blend, and then put medallions back in the sauce. Do not let it boil or the cream will curdle.

Good with mashed potatoes or egg noodles for the gravy and a green vegetable such as beans or asparagus. This served four easily.

Would you believe I forgot to take a picture? The image above is close but not mine.

 

A twist on the hamburger

Today I’m breaking all my own guidelines for recipes for this weekly blog. The recipe I offer is neither easy nor quick; you cannot cook it on your hot plate and doing it in the toaster oven will require some adjustments. And no, it’s not something I just cooked. I haven’t fixed it for years but looking for a particular recipe—barbecue for Mother’s Day—I came across several old friends, recipes that I fixed for my kids, years ago, and now want to make again. This is one of them.

My sister-in-law, Amy Alter, sent me this. At the time she lived in an apartment in the Bronx and did not have a grill. So she cooked it in her oven. Now she has a lovely house and probably can grill outdoors. My copy of the recipe, a bit battered and stained, is in her handwriting on a 5x8 notecard which makes it a treasure. We call it Aunt Amy’s Giant Hamburger.

Just to point out how old it is: it calls for a small can of sliced mushrooms. I don’t know about you, but it’s been years since I bought mushrooms in any form except fresh. Here they are optional, and I will omit them—we have a non-mushroom person in the family. It’s that texture thing again. I have also omitted margarine as a possible substitute for butter.

Aunt Amy’s Stuffed Hamburger (six servings)

Ingredients

2 Tbsp. butter

1-1/4 c. herbed stuffing mix, crushed (3/4 cup)

1 egg, beaten

1 3-oz. can chopped mushrooms, drained (1/4 cup)

1/3 c. beef broth

¼ c. sliced green onions

¼ c. chopped almonds, optional

¼ c. snipped parsley, optional

1 tsp. lemon juice

2 lbs. ground beef

1 tsp. salt

Directions:

Melt butter in medium saucepan and remove from the heat. Add stuffing mix, egg, mushrooms, beef broth, onions, almonds, parsley, and lemon juice. Mix well.

Separately season beef with salt and divide in half. On sheets of waxed paper or aluminum foil, pat each half into an 8” circle.

Spoon stuffing mix over one circle of meat to within one inch of the edge. Top with second half of the meat. This is best done by keeping it on the paper or foil, flipping it into place, and then peeling off the covering. Use your fingers to seal the edges of the meat.

The easiest way to do this is to invert the patty, bottom sheet of covering still in place, and flip it into a grilling basket. Peel off the remaining paper or foil and grill over medium coals about 10 or 12 minutes on each side or until done. Let it sit to “collect” itself and then cut into wedges. (At least one member of this household will want ketchup, which is fine. Aunt Amy suggests warming it.)

No grill? The grilling basket will not fit in your toaster oven, but all is not lost. I hope you have a jellyroll pan for your oven—like a cookie sheet with a rim. Instead of a circle, make your two patties to fit your pan. (This may take a little figuring.) Broil each side until done. (You will have to watch it and cook longer, as I’ve found my toaster oven does not broil things very fast.)

A bit of trouble, yes, but this is so good. Serve it with a green salad, and you’ve got a meal. Enjoy, and drink a toast to Aunt Amy.

 

Lazy cooking

 

When I was young and newly married, my mom gave me a copy of Peg Bracken’s I Hate to Cook Cookbook. I remember I thought Lazy Day Beef Stew was the best thing ever. Fast forward to retirement, after over the years I’ve become much more of a foodie and have been researching Helen Corbitt (think Neiman Marcus, although there is much more to her story) and the food culture in our country in her day—the fifties and sixties. It was the era of Bracken and Poppy Cannon. Never heard of Poppy?

If Julia Child championed French cooking and Corbitt shed light on the beauty of American cooking, Poppy Cannon was the queen of convenience cooking. At various times, she was food editor of Ladies Home Journal and House Beautiful, and she published several cookbooks, including The Can Opener Cookbook, The Bride’s Cookbook, and Poppy Cannon’s all-time, no-time, any-time cookbook.

It’s no secret I love to cook. I am more on the side of Corbitt and Child than Cannon and Bracken. But occasionally, inspiration fails, and I want quick and easy. All my principles go out the window, and I even resort to the packaged and prepared foods so beloved by Cannon. Such was the case the other night when Jordan was going to be out, and I was to feed Christian and Jacob. I needed something both would eat, and I wanted something quick and easy. Coincidentally I had six chicken thighs that were a product of my continued inability to order the chicken I really want from Central Market online—I wanted bone-in, skin-on thighs to roast. I got boneless, skinless, and wasn’t sure what to do with them. Google came to my rescue. Here’s what I did:

Stuffed chicken thighs

Six boneless, skinless chicken thighs

1 box Stovetop chicken stuffing

1 envelope Pioneer chicken gravy mix

Make the stuffing and gravy following instructions on the package. The nice thing about boneless thighs is that they automatically have little pockets. Put chicken thighs in a greased baking pan just big enough to hold them comfortably. Spoon stuffing into the thigh pockets and don’t worry if you’re a bit sloppy and some spills over. Pack it in, because you’ll still have leftover stuffing that you have to figure out what to do with. Pour gravy even overall. The thighs will end up sitting in a sea of gravy. No problem. Bake at 375^o for 30 minutes or until chicken is thoroughly cooked through. Let sit five minutes and serve. Both boys ate heartily, and Christian commented on how tender the meat was.

In our house, an entrée like this and a salad is enough for dinner. So here’s my new favorite quick-and-easy creamy salad dressing:

Creamy salad dressing

2 Tbsp. sour cream

1 Tbsp. mayonnaise

1 tsp. Dijon mustard

1 Tbsp. white vinegar, either cider or wine (you can also substitute lemon juice—just get that acid in there.

Pinch each of sugar and salt

Whisk together until thoroughly blended. Like blue cheese in your salad dressing as much as we do? No problem—just add some crumbles to taste.

You’ll probably have leftover chicken thighs, leftover stuffing, and no dressing, but that’s okay because it’s so easy to make. Enjoy!