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Thursday, September 28, 2023

Scallops and sardines

 


Scallops on spinach
(a leftover half a small potato snuck in there too)

The title of this post alone should clue you in that I’ve been eating quite a few meals in solitary splendor because the Burtons’ schedule is busy this time of year. Sardines and scallops are two things I would never serve for family dinner.

Sea or ocean scallops because they are expensive, about $40 a lb. I find I am satisfied with a quarter lb. which gives me three fat scallops. For the family I’d probably have to have a pound and a quarter—not sure if Jacob would surprise me or not. But either way that’s beyond the budget for a weeknight dinner.

I have a friend who assures me that when I think I’m buying scallops, I’m buying shark. Not true if you shop with a respectable fishmonger—I shop at Central Market and trust them. But there are unscrupulous fishermen who flavor shark or skate to taste like scallops. These substitutions are caught in unsustainable ways, so you take a risk with your health if you eat them. How can you tell? Fake scallops are perfect cylinders, as though they’d be stamped out of a machine. Nature never creates two things quite alike, so real scallops are not uniform in size or appearance. Also they have a small muscle on the side that can be removed before cooking.

Scallops are versatile You can cover them with a gratin sauce or make traditional Coquilles St/ Jacques, which puts the scallops in a wine-and-mushroom sauce, with mashed potatoes piped around the edge of the dish (my mom had a huge shell dish she used for this). But to me, nothing beats sauteed scallops in lemon butter sauce, So the other night I had a terrific dinner. Here’s what I did.

Sauteed scallops with fresh spinach

I forgot one stop: refrigerate scallops for 20-30 minutes, uncovered, before cooking. This lets them dry out a bit and makes it easier to achieve a brown crust.

I sauteed spinach in a generous amount of butter, added some salt and pepper, drained it, and put it in a soup plate (you can use a regular plate—I’m just having fun using my soup plates for a lot of things these days).

I added more butter to the skillet and heated it to high. I seasoned with salt and pepper and, when butter was really hot, placed them in the skillet. It’s important not to move them at this point so that a crust forms. Some chefs say one minute on one side. I did two minutes on one side and then flipped them for one more minute. The big thing about scallops is you don’t want to overcook them because they’ll turn to rubber. For years, Jordan would never eat them outside my kitchen for fear they were overcooked. I was careful dislodging scallops from skillet, but I still left some brown behind. A real chef who has mastered this can get a nice crisp uniform crust. After putting the scallops on the spinach, I lowered the heat a bit and squeezed the juice of about half a lemon into the remaining butter, scraping up any brown bits. I poured that sauce over the scallops and spinach.

Sardines

Sardines are a different matter entirely—no one else in the house will eat them, though I doubt they’ve ever tried (they are good at deciding ahead of a taste that they don’t like things). People sometimes get sardines and anchovies mixed up—anchovies are much small, much saltier, and stronger in flavor. The milder sardines are a good substitute for tuna—the meat is mild, rich in protein and omega-3 acids which improve your cognition and general health. They’re generally salty to some degree, but they do not have high levels of mercury as tuna does. I’ve had sardines packed in mustard sauce and tomato sauce—the latter was surprisingly good—but I’ve never had fresh. I buy them canned in oil.

You can broil or roast sardines with lemon and herbs, put them in pasta, add them to salads, grill them, put them in puff pastry. On one of my home alone evenings recently, I had sardines on toast. Here’s what I did:

Toast baguette slices—I think I fixed four. While they are still warm, rub them “aggressively” with a cut garlic clove. Then butter lightly. Top with a tomato slice, sardines (they are hard to get out of the can, especially the first one, so you may get bits and pieces, but that doesn’t matter). Top that with slivers of sweet onion—I happened to have pickled onion in the refrigerator so that’s what I used. Drizzle with lemon and olive oil. These are messy to eat but oh so good!

My ex-husband used to make sardine salad, an idea I’m sure he got from his mother who cooked a lot of traditional Jewish food: Drain and mash a can of sardines with salt, pepper, and lots of lemon. Good as a spread on crackers or a sandwich filling.

Don’t let the fishy notion scare you away. Sardines are great for a snack, an appetizer, or dinner alone.

Sardines on toast

Thursday, September 14, 2023

Welsh rarebit

 


Picture from Hertfordstreet.com

Welsh rarebit

My mom used to make a dish she called Welsh rarebit. As a child I thought she was saying rabbit, though I knew there was no bunny in this dish. It was, as far as I could tell, melted cheese poured over saltine crackers. To this day I don’t know if there was any more than that to Mom’s version. But I do remember serving it once to my four teens, only to have Colin, my most outspoken food critic, asked queriously, “This is dinner?”

Well, I’ve learned a thing or two since then, and the other night I served Welsh rarebit, garnished with pickled onion and fresh watercress, to a guest who loved it. To make Welsh rarebit you pour a cheese sauce over toast and then grill or broil it. No one is sure that Welsh rarebit traces to Wales, but we do know that it first surfaced in Great Britain in the eighteenth century. It was, indeed, called Welsh rabbit, but the name was changed to avoid confusion. Apparently, Brits also eat a dish simply called cheese on toast (they put everything on toast and mostly, it’s delicious). I’ve also heard it said that rabbit or rarebit is a variation of the Welsh “rare bit,” or small bite.

Here's what I did the other night. This is supposed to serve four. Leftovers do not keep well.

Welsh rarebit

1.5 Tbsp. butter

1.5 Tbsp. flour

½ tsp. dry mustard

1.5 cup stout or beer (I usually use stout, but next time think I’ll use a lighter ale because the stout makes the sauce an unattractive muddy brown)

½ cup water

2 Tbsp. brown sugar, packed

½ tsp. Worcestershire sauce

Thick slices peasant bread, such as sourdough

½ lb. extra sharp cheddar cheese, grated

½ Tbsp, olive oil

Toast the bread

Melt butter in heavy saucepan. Whisk in flour and mustard and cook a couple of minutes, whisking. Stir in beer, water, brown sugar, and Worcestershire sauce. Stir until sauce is thickened and smooth. Season with salt and pepper to taste.

Separately toss watercress with olive oil, a pinch of salt, and pickled onions.

Pour cheese sauce over toast on plates and garnish with watercress mixture. Serve while hot.

Note that I didn’t feel it necessary to put the cheese toast under the broiler. Plain cheese sauce on toast doesn’t have much eye appeal but the garnish took care of that. And the crunch and tang of the onion was a nice contrast to the rich and velvety sauce.

Optional: you can top the cheese toast with a fried egg –this is a buck rabbit or golden rabbit; if you mix a little tomato or tomato sauce with the cheese, it is a blushing bunny.

Mom used to serve this in front of the fireplace on winter Sunday evenings when we traditionally had a lighter supper. It’s fairly rich, so you don’t really need a side dish. If you want to serve something else with it, I’d make it a salad.

How to quick pickle onion

Use pickled onion any time you want that contrast of taste and texture—great on burgers, grilled cheese, salads, you name it.

1 medium red onion, sliced thin

½ cup water

½ cup vinegar (you may use all cider vinegar or half cider and half distilled white)

1.5 tsp. honey

1.5 tsp. fine sea salt

Red pepper flakes (optional, and I didn’t)

Slice the onion and pack it into a pint canning jar, such as a Mason jar—just be sure it is heat-proof.

Heat remaining ingredients to a simmer and pour over onion, being careful to avoid splashes of hot vinegar. Let it sit without top of jar for at least half an hour at room temperature. Then put the lid on and refrigerate.

Mwynhewch eich bwyd (happy eating in Welch!).

 

 

 


Thursday, September 7, 2023

It’s almost chili season

 


Chili cheese hot dog bake

Last night as we talked about a grocery list, Jordan said, “We need to get the ingredients for chili, because when the right day hits, it will be sudden.” I used to make what I thought was a pretty good pot of chili. In fact, in a cookbook, Cooking My Way through Life with Kids and Books, I called it “Judy’s mild and tentative chili,” and it got a nice mention in a couple of reviews. But then Christian took over as the chili expert in our compound. He rarely makes the same chili twice. He’s a great experimental cook, though he always follows a recipe. Well, mostly.

By happenstance, I wrote a sourcebook for him several years ago. Texas Tech University Press published Texas is Chili Country, a compilation of chili history (no, it isn’t Mexican and Mexicans don’t want to claim it—it’s purely Texan), information about chili cookoffs, an entire chapter on Wolf Brand chili, and lots of recipes from vegetarian to chili made with game, Cincinnati chili (with pasta no less) and the chili for a Coney Island dog. Christian still has lots of recipes to try and we are looking forward to cool weather and that first pot of chili.

Meantime, here’s my chili. I’m standing by it.

Judy’s mild and tentative chili

1 lb. ground beef

Enough oil to sauté onion, garlic, and beef

1 large onion, chopped

1 clove garlic, chopped

1 8-oz. can tomato sauce

1 cup beer

4 tsp. chili powder or to taste

½ tsp. Tabasco

2 tsp. salt

2 c. beans

Brown onion and garlic; add hamburger and cook until all pink is gone.

Add everything else except beans and simmer for 60 to 90 minutes. Stir occasionally, and add more beer as needed (you’ve got that open warm beer anyway). Taste and add more chili powder as needed. Add beans and heat just before serving.

My family likes to top it with chopped purple onion and grated cheddar.

 

Labor Day isn’t quite cool enough for a pot of chili, and this year it was certainly too hot. But the holiday that kicks off Fall is a traditional time for hot dogs. I had invited a friend for supper, cautioning that I didn’t know what we’d have—maybe hot dogs. She wrote back and said, “I love hot dogs!” When I answered, “Kosher,” she replied, “Of course!” So here’s what I did.

Chili Cheese Hot Dog Bake

Hot dogs (I prefer Hebrew National; there were seven in a package, so that’s what I cooked)

Hot dog buns (I used split top, but I’m not sure it matters)

2 Tbsp. butter

2 cloves garlic

1 15 oz. can chili without beans (I used Wolf Brand)

Grated sharp cheddar cheese

Chopped green onion

Chopped tomato

Place the hot dog buns in a baking dish and put a hot dog in each.

Melt butter in a small skillet and sauté garlic until soft. Brush garlic butter over hot dogs.

Spoon chili over hot dogs, distributing as evenly as you can. Cover with grated cheese.

Cover baking dish with foil and bake at 350o for 25-30 minutes.

Garnish with chopped onion and tomato. It not only tastes good, it makes a pretty casserole.

Don’t you just love Fall? Watch for more about chili, because I’m remembering some good stories from the book, including a mini cookoff in my living room.  

Texas Is Chili Country: A Brief History with Recipes: Alter, Judy: 9780896729469: Amazon.com: Books