Holiday entertaining on my mind …

 

Holidays to me mean lots of grazing food – cheeseballs and dips and spreads for all those buffets and happy hours you’re going to host. For years (probably almost fifty), I hosted some version of an annual tree trimming party. When I was a kid, my dad and brother put lights on the tree and walked away; Mom and I were left to decorate. It was not the jolly family shared experience Norman Rockwall would have us all envision. So I swore when I had my own home, tree the trimming would be festive and happy.

Most years I had anywhere from fifty to seventy guests. The price of admission was always the same: bring an ornament and hang it on the tree. As a result, I have a huge collection of unique ornaments, now stored in the attic, because I have only a small, tabletop fake tree. But I can still tell you the story behind many of my ornaments.

My dining table was extended and full of everything from pate and a caviar dip to bourbon-soaked cocktail sausages and cheeseball. The buffet on the side held cookies, a chocolate Bundt cake, and Aunt Reva’s sheet cake. I began cooking at least by early November, and the freezer was stocked. Some of the things I served are now considered passé, cheeseballs and dips among them, but my family and I still love them. Here are three I frequently served.

Caesar dip

If you love Caesar salad, as I do, this is the dip for you. It’s like eating the dressing.

1 cup mayonnaise

½ cup sour cream

½ cup grated fresh Parmesan

1 Tbsp. lemon juice

1 garlic clove, pressed or grated

1 anchovy filet or 1 tsp. anchovy paste

           Caesar salad was originally finger food—you dipped the base of a leaf of romaine in the dressing. I have had it served that way in restaurants, and at Fort Worth’s Pacific Table where the Caesar salad has uncut leaves, I eat it that way. So a great dipper for this would be small leaves from the hearts of a couple of heads of romaine (use the remaining leaves for a green salad). Other crudities would work well too—carrots, broccoli flowers, green pepper strips, cucumber slices. Baguettes slices and crackers are also perfectly acceptable.

Sherry cheese paté

8 oz. cream cheese

1 cup grated sharp cheddar

1 T. dry sherry (cooking sherry if you must)

½ tsp. curry powder

¼ tsp.

¼ salt

1 8 oz. jar chutney, any flavor you want – I am partial to apricot

2 green onions, chopped

Mix cream cheese, cheddar, sherry, curry powder, and salt. Spread on serving plate and chill. Spread the chutney on top of the mixture and scatter green onion bits for decoration. Serve with crackers and a cocktail spreader or knife.

Caviar Spread

This is the dish that people asked for year after year.

2-1/2 8-oz. pkg. cream cheese, softened

1 c. mayonnaise

1 small onion, grated

1 Tbsp. Worcestershire

1 Tbsp. lemon juice

Dash of hot sauce

1 4-oz. jar black caviar

3-4 hard-cooked eggs, finely chopped

Chopped parsley

Mix first seven ingredients with electric mixer until smooth. Spoon into shallow serving dish. Top with caviar, eggs, and parsley. Serve with small pumpernickel breads or party rye if you can find them. Crackers are good too.

You don’t have to wait for Christmas to serve these. They’d be great for that family Thanksgiving get-together.

          

 

 

 

 

 

A couple of old favorites—and a bit of history

 

Cottage pie
Idea and photo courtesy Mary Kleiner Dulle
the recipe is mine.

My dad loved his afternoon tea with milk, which is the British way. The tea had to be loose leaf, steeped in a proper pot, and preferably presented on a silver service. Tea was always accompanied with a small sweet, although I never saw a scone on the tea tray at home. Today, Dad’s tea has become ultra-fashionable: high tea is a late afternoon luxury, most often served in an upscale hotel. The menu, such as it is, usually consists of scones, fruit, dainty finger sandwiches filled with cucumber and cream cheese, smoked salmon, egg salad, chicken salad, pate, etc.—you can use your imagination. The sandwiches are often cut into fancy shapes and must be crustless. And several varieties of tea are offered.

One story is that as fashionable dinners were served later and later in the evening, ladies needed something to tide them over, lest they suffer a fainting spell from hunger. This light meal was just perfect.

But it was not always so. High tea was first served in seventeenth-century England, and it was a hearty meal for the working class when they got off duty. The menu would been hearty, such fare as stew, meat pies, cottage or shepherd’s pie, and Welsh rarebit.

Recently my neighbor Mary Dulle made a cottage pie and posted a picture on Facebook. It looked scrumptious and reminded me that I haven’t it for a long time. It’s one of those dishes, like meatloaf or tuna casserole, that is scorned by food snobs today, but my family and I love it. So I got out the recipe and have put the ingredients on my next shopping list. One note: cottage pie is made with ground beef; shepherd’s pie is the same dish made with ground lamb. Otherwise, there is no difference.

Cottage pie

Ingredients

Mashed potatoes, made of about 1⅓ lbs. red potatoes (you don’t have to skin them first, though some people prefer that.

½ cup shredded sharp cheddar

Milk, cream, or sour cream – as much as needed to make stiff potatoes

1 lb. lean ground beef

2 Tbsp. flour

4 c. frozen mixed vegetables (I prefer corn, green beans, and sweet peas but packaged mixed vegetables with carrots and lima beans work fine)

¾ c. beef broth

2 Tbsp. ketchup

¼ c. shredded sharp cheddar

Heat oven to 375°.

           Cook potatoes. You might add a cut clove of garlic or two to the boiling water to flavor the potatoes. Instead of milk, trying using cream or even sour cream for added richness. Stir half cup cheese in until melted. Set mashed potatoes aside.

Brown meat in nonstick skillet. Stir in flour and cook briefly. Add remaining ingredients and cook, stirring, for five minutes. Spoon into eight-inch square baking dish. Cover with mashed potatoes.

Bake 20 minutes. Sprinkle remaining cheddar over the top and bake another 3-4 minutes, until cheese melts and casserole is bubbly. Serve six, but only if they’re not hearty eaters.  

 

Welsh rarebit

Welsh rarebit (not, it’s not rabbit) is another overlooked dish today. The name “rarebit” comes from the Welsh caws pobi, which literally means rare (barely cooked) and bit (as in a small serving.) This meatless dish may come in small servings, but it is rich in flavor.

Ingredients

1½ cups sharp cheddar cheese, grated

2 Tbsp. beer

1 tsp. dried mustard

Pepper to taste

Melt cheese and beer in saucepan, add pepper and mustard. Most recipes call for serving it over buttered toast and running it under the broiler to brown it. My mom served it on saltine crackers, and I don’t recall that she broiled it. I have also seen a version—called Scotch woodcock, I think—that added tomatoes. It is a light supper, so much so that when I served it on crackers one night and Colin said, “This is dinner?” That was before he ate it. These days, I broil it and serve it on good, thick artisan bread. Great with a good green salad.

Enjoy high tea—one evening for supper.

 

 

Butter boards—a good idea or not?

 

Not my photo
Butter Board (TikTok Recipe) - Sugar and Soul

Six years ago, when I moved into the cottage, Jordan and I entertained almost every evening because people were curious to see my garage-turned-cozy cottage. We put several cheeses and a couple of sliced meats on a board and barely knew to call it charcuterie. Today, these boards may have reached their peak of popularity. They’ve gotten so complicated and elaborate that there are entire books on how to create them and you can take classes in creating spectacular arrangements of meat, cheese, and vegetables, the latter often shaped into rose blooms.

But there’s a new board that cooks and hosts are just beginning to explore: butter boards. I have to confess that good, rich, real butter is one of my favorite foods. To me, the perfect snack is a saltine cracker with a good-sized slice of butter. When they were little my kids used to say, “Have a little cracker with your butter, Mom.” I am convinced butter boards were designed just for me.

Whereas charcuterie boards seem to grow larger until they are often big and sometimes contain a full meal, butter boards are much smaller. It is just what the name implies: softened butter spread thickly on a small board, usually wooden though a plate could be used. A few years ago glass cutting boards were all the rage—I have two small ones and think they would be good for butter board.

What else goes into a butter board? You are only as limited as your imagination. Originally, the board featured herbs and microgreens. Some people added edible flowers. Then chefs and cooks began to branch out, exploring savory additions—garlic, spices, bacon, some of those charcuterie ingredients, like salami or other preserved meat, finely chopped. Want something sweet? Use jam, honey, fruit, nuts, or seeds. To scoop up the butter, offer crackers, baguette slices, even pretzels. I do think a butter knife would be useful to avoid messes.

An alternative to butter is cream cheese. The obvious toppings would be diced smoked salmon, chopped red onion, a bit of tomato, and capers. But cream cheese would make a good base for toppings like bacon, or cucumber and green onions.  Dream big!

The most important aspect of creating your board is the same as in arranging a charcuterie: arrange things in the most appealing manner. I frequently quote my mom: food is half eaten by the eye.

You probably would not serve boards, either with butter or meat and cheese, to large groups. These are dishes for a small group of three or friends gathered around a coffee table. You might be sure beforehand that your guests like butter.

Not all chefs are enthusiastic about the butter board craze. Some fear it’s unsanitary. They claim smearing butter on a porous wooden board means you can’t clean the board thoroughly and leaves too much room for contamination. I routinely prepare food on a wooden butch block surface, cleaning it thoroughly after each use. I’ve had that same table for years with no problems. Another charge is that a butter board is messy. A way around both of those objections is to place parchment paper under the board, perhaps trimming it around the butter for appearance’s sake. I will also protest that those crowded charcuterie boards are messy too, like a buffet with many hands in the food. That’s why I suggest limiting the size of your party. Finally, those not drawn to butter boards say they can imagine hair, dust particles, and other foreign material floating down onto the board. Doesn’t this happen with any food? Even your dinner plate? Granted, a stray hair is more likely to stick to soft butter, but I think some atmospheric contamination is possible every time we eat, unless we lock ourselves in a bubble. I would remind naysayers that large cheese and fruit boards have been standard at big receptions for years.

Butter boards aren’t for everyone. I haven’t yet had the opportunity to try serving one, but it’s on my bucket list. Here are a couple of combinations that I think sound good. Another hint: be sure to use a rich butter, possibly European. I prefer Kerrygold. And be sure your butter is at room temperature. Then when you put it in the board, give it some swirls and curls for eye appeal.

Basic herbal board:

           Spread your board with 1/2 cup unsalted butter. Sprinkle lightly with kosher or sea salt and a tiny bit of black pepper. Decorate with two tsp. lemon zest, three Tbsp. assorted fresh herbs, chopped; drizzle with one Tbsp. honey.  

Dried cranberry board:

           Spread your board with one-half cup butter. Salt it lightly and drizzle a bit of lemon juice over it. Spread evenly over butter: one Tbsp. chopped walnuts, 2 tsp. diced chives, 2 Tbsp. fresh basil; 2 Tbsp. dried cranberries.

Italian board:

Spread butter and season with salt and lemon zest. Chiffonade five or six basil leaves and spread over butter with two Tbsp. finely chopped sun-dried tomatoes, and one-fourth cup Parmesan or Pecorino.

Be the first to wow your friends with this new trend.

Bon Appetit!

 

Gougeres

If you’ve read the Irene in Chicago Culinary Mysteries, you know that Irene Foxglove may be difficult, imperious, unpredictable, and a faux graduate of Le Cordon Bleu, but she is a good cook who decries instant food and believes the French have perfected the culinary arts beyond any other culture. Last week, I offered recipes from the Texas kitchen of Henny James’ mother. After all, Henny’s TV show is “From My Mother’s Kitchen.” But Henny began her career as a gofer on Irene’s TV show which featured many French recipes. So today, I’m sharing a few of Irene’s recipes.

Irene’s Coquille St. Jacques (scallops in a cream sauce)

This company-style dish is traditionally served in a shell-shaped dish with mashed potatoes piped decoratively around the edge. Irene prefers to use individual gratin dishes with a bread crumb topping.

For the scallops:

12 large sea scallops (count 3 scallops per serving)

3 Tbsp. butter

1 shallot, minced

3 Tbsp. white wine

¾ cup crème fraiche

1 Tbsp. minced parsley

Salt and pepper

For the crumb topping:

1 ½ cups crustless white breadcrumbs or panko

¼ cup minced parsley

5 oz. Gruyere, grated

¼ cup olive oil

Directions:

Pat scallops dry with paper towel and refrigerate, uncovered, for one hour to dry them further. Meanwhile, mince the shallot. Melt butter in skillet and sauté shallot.

Add scallops to skillet and cook until they lose their translucence and are white. Do not overcook—it makes them rubbery. Remove from skillet and cover to keep them warm.

Deglaze the skillet with white wine, scraping browned bits off the bottom of the pan. Let wine boil gently until reduced by half. Add crème fraiche. Return scallops to pan just to mix; do not cook further. Spoon scallop mixture into four individual gratin dishes, top with breadcrumb mixture, and bake at 350^o until bubbly hot and crumb mixture is lightly browned.

From Saving Irene

Gougères

Gougères are small appetizers made of a rich dough called choux pastry and cheese, traditionally Comté, Emmentaler, or Gruyère. The ingredients are simple, but making the pastries involves a lot of beating by hand.

6 Tbsp. unsalted butter, cut into small pieces

¾ tsp. salt, preferably kosher

Pinch of nutmeg

1 c. water

1-1/4 c. flour

4 eggs

1-1/2 c. Comté, Emmentaler, or Gruyère cheese, grated

½ tsp. fine black pepper

One egg yolk

           Combine first four ingredients in a saucepan and bring to a boil. Cook, just below a boil, until butter is melted. Stir in the flour. Cook over medium heat, stirring constantly, until mixture forms a ball in the middle of the pan. Dough should not be sticky. Let it cool slightly, because you will be adding eggs but don’t want the dough to cook them before you can stir them in.

Remove pan from the heat and beat the eggs in one at a time, beating vigorously after each egg until it is thoroughly incorporated into the dough. Do not try to hurry the process by adding all four eggs at once. After last egg, stir in cheese and pepper.

Line a baking sheet with parchment paper. Irene shapes the dough into one-inch balls by hand, but Henny prefers to use a piping bag with the ½” round tip. You may also cut the corner off a plastic bag and use as a home-made piping bag. Place dough balls 2” apart on baking sheet as they will expand.

Make an egg wash with remaining egg yolk and 1 tsp. water. Brush onto gougères before baking.

Bake at 400^o for 20-25 minutes. When done, they will be golden brown. You can test for doneness by breaking one open: it should be dry on the inside.

Recipe makes about 50 gougères, but people will eat several at a time.

From Irene in Danger

Cold turkey with tonnato sauce

Irene serves this cold dish in her café. She roasts and seasons a turkey breast, slices it medium thin, and lays it out on a platter, smothered with tonnato sauce and decorated with microgreens or chopped parsley or watercress. Tonnato sauce can also be served on chicken, veal, fish, whatever you want. But you must like tuna to relish it, and it will not keep long in the refrigerator. You know—fish and guests grow old after three days.

Tonnato sauce

1 cup mayonnaise

½ cup olive oil

6 oz. can tuna in oil, with the oil

3 anchovy filets

2 Tbsp. lemon juice

3 Tbsp. capers, drained

Put it all in the processor and process until well blended. You might want to halve it; then you can use the rest of the tuna for a salad.

From Finding Florence