Squash recipes for summer

 

Zucchini casserole, with a bite  out of it already

If you’ve ever had a vegetable garden, you know how prolific summer squash and zucchini vines can be. There’s an old joke about gardeners who wait til the dead of night to leave zucchini on friends’ doorsteps, because everyone has way too much of it come July. It’s time to take advantage of this abundance, whether it comes from your own garden, a farmers’ market, or the grocery store.

Squash is also something not everyone will eat. My local family will not, so when they went out of town recently, I took the opportunity to fix myself a squash casserole. I spent years trying to duplicate the way it was done at The Black-Eyed Pea restaurants and never quite got it right. Finally, I decided I should stop winging it and use a recipe. Here’s what I did:

Summer squash casserole

1 lb. yellow crookneck squash (about four small squash)

¼ c. water

¼ c. chopped sweet onion

½ tsp salt

1 egg. Beaten

¼ c. dry bread crumbs

2 Tbsp. melted butter

Pepper to taste

½ c. grated cheddar (more if you want)

Combine first four ingredients in a saucepan; bring to a boil, reduce heat, and simmer for about 15 minutes. Let it cool a bit before adding egg mixture below.

Separately combine remaining ingredients. Stir into squash mixture and pour into one-quart casserole dish. Cover with cheddar cheese—I like a good amount of cheese and probably used a cup, grated. Bake 30 minutes at 300^o.

This recipe for zucchini is so much like the one above they could almost be interchangeable.

Zucchini side dish

3 c. sliced zucchini

¼ c. sour cream

1 Tbsp. butter

1 Tbsp. grated Parmesan or Pecorino

           (You could use cheddar if you prefer)

1/4 tsp. salt

1/8 tsp. paprika

1 beaten egg yolk

1 Tbsp. finely diced green onion

Topping:

2 Tbsp. breadcrumbs

3 Tbsp. Parmesan (or whatever you used above)

½ Tbsp. butter

Crisp vegetables are the trend these days, have been for several years, and if you like your squash that way, use it crisp; to my mind, some vegetables ought to be mushy (green beans when eaten with fried chicken, for instance). Zucchini in a casserole ought to be on the mushy side, so I steamed this—doesn’t take long.

Separately melt the butter in a saucepan and stir in cheese, salt, and paprika. Heat until cheese melts. Remove pan from heat and let it cool a bit before stirring in the egg yolk and chives. Gently stir in the zucchini and put it all in a buttered casserole dish.

Mix crumbs and cheese for topping and spread evenly on top of squash mixture. Dot with butter. Bake at 375^o about 30 minutes, until topping is browned.

Happy summer, everyone!

Caesar salad--an experiment and a recipe

 

Caesar Cardini, the chef behind Caesar salad

This is part of my ongoing campaign to vary our salad menu. To my delight, Jacob, who is gradually broadening his list of acceptable foods, loves Caesar salad. Discovered that one night when Megan and I took cousins Jacob and Ford to Pacific Table. So when I recently came across a new recipe that included toasted bread crumbs instead of croutons, I set it aside to try. Jordan doesn’t much like croutons, and I thought this would be a good substitution. Then I read it again. The dressing called for a whole can of anchovies—enough to turn Jacob off Caesar salad forever. I had already committed to making it for supper, so I decided to revert to a standby—the Caesar recipe from The Joy of Cooking.

Either I don’t know where my copy is or I lost it in the downsizing (that excuse is now five years old and wearing thin). But I couldn’t put my hands on the book. And it appears that the Rombauer family does not put their recipes online. As one family member explained it, they are a small business and can’t afford to share their intellectual property. But I did find someone who put their own adaptation of the Rombauer recipe online, and I went with that.

Sort of a major mistake. Jacob said it burned the roof of this mouth, and I admit it was what I could call a “stout” salad dressing; the next day it was really stout. I think the flavors intensified overnight. To me, the problem was too much lemon and vinegar. But here’s the recipe as I followed it.

½ c. olive oil

1 egg, coddled

1-1.5 tsp Kosher salt

½ tsp. black pepper

Half 2 oz. can anchovy filets, well drained on paper towels

1 tsp Dijon mustard

3 Tbsp. red wine vinegar

3 drops (hard to achieve) Worcestershire sauce.

1 whole (small) lemon

Coddling an egg was a whole new experience. Back in the day I used a raw egg and didn’t think twice. To coddle one, you bring a cup of water to a boil (microwave or stove top) and remove from heat. Using a spoon, lower the egg into the water and let it sit five minutes. Once you remove it, with that spoon, it’s best to let it cool a bit. When you can handle it, crack the egg (carefully), spoon contents into other dressing ingredients, and give it a good whir in the food processor.

For the breadcrumbs that got me started on this, I sautéed 1 garlic clove in 3 Tbsp. butter until it softened. Then added 1 cup panko, stirring constantly because it goes from brown to burnt quickly. I let the crumbs cool and topped each serving of salad with crumbs and a generous sprinkle of Parmesan. I did not sprinkle with lemon zest which the original recipe called for.

Do you know the supposedly true history of Caesar salad? It is generally attributed to Caesar Cardini—and  you can still buy the Cardini brand of Caesar dressing in grocery stores--it is good but also a strong dressing. Caesar salad is not for the faint of appetite.

Cardini, Italian by birth, lived in San Diego but opened a hotel and restaurant in Tijuana during Prohibition to avoid the restrictions--and the law. One Fourth of July, the restaurant ran out of food. With limited ingredients, he added a dramatic twist to food service by tossing the salad at the table. To this day, Caesar salad should traditionally be tossed tableside, but it usually isn't. There have been other claims to the invention of this classic salad, principally by some of Cardini's employees, and there is the story of his brother's "aviator salad"--or did Caesar christen his salad "Aviator salad," and it came to be called Caesar in general use? History is once again not precise.

The original salad used lime juice, not lemon, and did not call for anchovies. That slight anchovy flavor supposedly came from Worcestershire sauce. Over time, as the salad became so popular, lemon juice took the place of lime, and anchovies were added--sometimes too many. Some recipes today call for anchovy paste rather than the fish. Another story is that original the romaine leaves were served whole, with a dab of dressing on the tip of each one. The dish was meant to be finger food, and I still eat it that way at Pacific Table in Fort Worth, where they serve a delicious Caesar on whole romaine leaves. But it's hard to reconcile the idea of finger food with the image of Caesar tossing the salad tableside.

You can find countless recipes online that are billed at the "original" Caesar Cardini recipe. Mostly they are variations of the above--some use vinegar, some use lemon, several use both. But basically it's lemon, olive oil, egg, and croutons. I'll stick with the Rombauer version but another time I’ll reduce the vinegar to 1 Tbsp., omit the Worcestershire and the mustard. Or eat my Caesar at Pacific Table. 

So there are some choices: modify the recipe to suit your taste, try Cardini's bottled dressing, or eat at Pacific Table.

Upgrading some childhood staples

 

When I was young two staples of my diet were both canned foods—tuna and spinach. IF my mom was going out for supper, she’d leave a friend and me with a can of Chef Boy-Ar-Dee spaghetti (I have since given that up) and a can of spinach—we were happy. Mom loved to tell the story of the time she had the two of us in a hotel lunchroom in Grand Rapids, Michigan. We each chose a small bowl of spinach as we went through the buffet line. After a while, Mom said to Eleanor Lee, “You’re not eating your spinach.” Eleanor Lee wrinkled her nose and said softly, “I think it’s fresh.”

Today I know a lot of people, particularly men, scorn canned tuna though they’ll eagerly order grilled ahi. Neither of my sons-in-law will touch canned tuna, although my oldest son likes the kind I order from a cannery so much it’s sometimes his birthday or Christmas gift. I can count the number of friends who are appalled at canned spinach. Truth is, I’m not fond of ahi, though I used to like a good ahi sandwich, and fresh spinach, as my neighbor says, makes your teeth feel funny. But those two staples, with their fond memories, go together to create one of my favorite “fancy” dishes—Tuna Florentine.

Basically, it is tuna in a cheesy sauce on a bed of seasoned spinach, topped with bread crumbs and cheese. This is not a quick and easy dish to make, so I save it for company. Recently, with one guest expected, I halved the recipe and still had bountiful leftovers for several days.

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 (I use water pack and add extra olive oil)

3 Tbsp. flour

Pinch of mace (if you don’t have it, don’t worry)

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 breadcrumbs

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).

Leftovers will keep three or four days; should freeze well.

 

Breakfast for dinner

 

Eggs Benedict

We call it brinner. You know, there are those nights when nothing says “dinner” to you, and you just don’t know what to fix. Sometimes sausage and pancakes sound good, or scrambled eggs and bacon. Maybe stir a bit of chopped smoked salmon, or chopped tomato, and a sliced green onion into those eggs before scrambling.

Sometimes if I’m jut fixing supper for myself, a baked egg sounds good. Maybe line a greased ramekin with bread—I often choose a good rye—and top that with spinach and grated sharp cheddar. Crack your egg, carefully, on top of that. Salt, pepper, and a bit of milk to keep it from drying out, and you’re done. Bake until it’s as runny—or not—as you want. I like It runny.

Maybe do your own version of Eggs Benedict—my Colin replaces Canadian bacon with sliced Taylor’s pork roll—yummy. I sometimes do a simplified version—butterr a piee of that rye toast heavily, top with slices of sharp cheddar, and slide a poached egg on top. Again, I like it runny.

Breakfast casserole recipes abound on the internet and in food magazines. Classic stand-bys include a strata, what my mom used to call a sandwich souffle. Layers of bread, cheese, and sometimes ham, soaked overnight in a milk-and-egg mixture and then baked in the morning. And of course, there are casseroles with tortillas and others with potatoes. One with potatoes, cream of mushroom soup, sour cream, cheddar, corn flakes, and onion can legitimately be called ubiquitous—it’s rich, delicious, and so high in cholesterol you may not want to think about it.

The same may bee true of the pork sausage and potato casserole I recently fixed for the family and plan to fix again. Jacob loved it.

Pork sausage and hash brown casseerole

Serves 8

2 lbs. ground pork sausage (you choose the heat and flavoring if any)

1 30-oz. pkg frozen shredded hash browns

2 tsp. salt, divided

1 tsp. pepper, divided

6 oz. sharp cheddar, divided, or more according to taste

6 large eggs, lightly beaten

1 c. whole milk

1 tsp. fresh parsley, chopped

1 tsp. chives, chopped

           Spray a 9x13 pan with cooking spray.

           Cook sausage in skillet until brown and crumbly; drain well.

Cook hash browns in batches, following pkg. directions. Sprinkle with 1 tsp. salt and ½ tsp. pepper.

Stir together sausage, potatoes, and cheese in large bowl. Spread evenly in greased 9x13 pan. Separately whisk together eggs, milk, and remaining salt and pepper. Pour evenly over eggs. Top with remaining cheese. (I’d use more and get a good cheese topping.)

Bake at 350 for 30 minutes or until set. To serve, sprinkle with parsley and chives (optional).