Cooking lessons

 

salmon cakes
Yes, I till eat them!

With my “away” kids visiting serially last week, I tried to cook according to each one’s taste—and taught myself some cooking lessons along the way. Jamie was first, and I fixed two old favorites the way I always have—squash casserole and green noodles. No lessons there.

But for Colin, who came next, I tried to experiment. Colin and I both love salmon and have together just invested in a case of wild-caught canned King salmon straight from a fishermen’s coop in Alaska. For his dinner, though, I used a couple of Wild Planet cans I had on hand, also labeled wild-caught (I do not want farm-raised salmon which I believe has health hazards). I found a recipe that called for smoked salmon mixed into the cakes. Why not? We both love lox. At first, I thought I’d make the cakes my usual way and just stir in the smoked salmon. But then I decided to follow the recipe and also add capers and dill—I think it was the capers that did it in, though Colin gamely said the more he ate, the better he liked it. I threw the recipe away. (This is my second try at smoked salmon in salmon cakes, and I hereby give up--each is too good to mess with it by mxing them.)

But there was a take-away. All my life I’ve used egg to bind salmon patties—that’s what my mom did. Believe me, I’ve made a lot of them over a long lifetime. Disgusting Vintage Foods Facebook posts occasionally show salmon cakes and ask querulously, “Does anybody still eat these?” My answer is a resounding “Yes!” I love them. But the unsuccessful recipe used mayo instead of egg to bind—small amount of both mayo and dried crumbs.

I tried this last night with the first can of the good new salmon, and it was great. Cakes held together better. All you need is salmon, salt and pepper, crumbs, and mayo, though I added a dash of Worcestershire and a pinch of dry mustard.

Lesson two came with Megan, who likes light, summer salads and who loves Asian food. I found an easy Asian chicken salad. For some time, I’ve been unhappy with boneless, skinless chicken breast that I cooked for salads, casseroles, etc. It was tough, no matter how I cooked it, so I used rotisserie chicken which is generally high in salt and cost. This recipe had directions for cooking chicken, and I followed them: dry the chicken with paper towels, salt and pepper generously, and get a good sear, a nice brown crust, on one side only. Reduce heat, turn chicken, add ¼ cup water (I had one whole breast), cover and simmer until tender and done. Much better. And the salad was delicious—Megan loved it. (A side lesson: Napa cabbage, which the recipe called for, is $11/head! Megan had to settle for plain, shredded cabbage.)

My third lesson came just two nights ago, with the Burtons back home and our first meal together. They love a pork tenderloin, but I find the meat dry (I think the same thing about a plain chicken breast). Usually I don’t buy tenderloins, but they were on sale, already marinated. First part of the lesson: most recipes call for marinating the meat yourself, which surely makes the cut cheaper. Besides, if it’s pre-marinated, you’re committed to a flavor before you begin. This one was marinated with herbs and Dijon mustard, and it was good, but I won’t routinely buy pre-marinated.

My mother taught me to save bits and pieces of this and that, a habit that sometimes frustrates Jordan as my small icebox dishes jump out of the freezer at her. But Mom lived through the Depression, and she saved every tiny leftover. I had saved the juice from cooking chicken for Megan’s salad, and I found one other similar, small container in the freezer. So I defrosted them.

Chicken fat rises to the top when refrigerated or frozen, so I scraped it off into a skillet, melted it, and added enough flour to make a roux. Then I made a sauce with the drippings. I had some chicken broth ready to go but didn’t need it. The sauce was good, the pork tender and moist. It was a win!

I had tucked potatoes and carrots around the tenderloin as it cooked, and the sauce/gravy was good on them too. I meant to eat the leftovers last night, but I ate two salmon cakes and all the leftover roasted baby carrots (I love cooked carrots but its one thing I can’t serve the family) and I was full. So lunch today is the remaining salmon cake and potatoes in gravy. Sounds good to me!

As I read more and more about Helen Corbitt, I find little nuggets that she called cooking hints. I guess that’s what today’s Gourmet on a Hot Plate column is: gourmet hints. We’re never too old to learn.

A hodgepodge and an old recipe

 

I thought at my age I knew how to cook, but it amazes me how many things I discover daily that make kitchen life and meals better (I feel the same way about computers!). Jordan is the one who figured out my latest lesson: because of the compact space of my toaster oven, when baking or roasting I need to put things on a lower rack and adjust the temperature and time downward. She pointed this out after I overcooked some pigs in a blanket—edible but not as soft as they should be. Her theory: not as much room for air and heat to circulate.

My other lesson was about using leftovers. Last week I made the best sheet pan chicken—pardon me for bragging but it was really good. I mean, the chicken was fine, but the vegetables—carrot, potatoes, and sweet onion—were out of this world. The trick was lots of salt, an olive oil drizzle, and then place the chicken right on the vegetables so that the meat juices drip down and flavor the potato, carrot, and onion. (See the recipe here: Gourmet on a Hot Plate: Chicken thighs and sheet pan cooking) We ate all the chicken but there was a generous helping of vegetables left over—I ate it for a vegetarian lunch the next day.

A couple of days later, I started to scramble some eggs, using olive oil instead of butter (I’m avoiding dairy these days, but that’s another story!). Just in time I remembered there was a tiny two bit of vegetables and some of the juices in the fridge. I dumped it all into two eggs, soft scrambled them, and had a winner of a dinner. (Honest, I did not do that rhyme on purpose.)

I’ll make that chicken again, although I have a new idea. Much as we liked the sheet pan chicken, we also like an herbed butter spatchcocked chicken that I make. So why not put a spatchcocked fowl on the vegetables? Some of my family prefer white meat, which I often find too dry, so this would satisfy everyone.

And the whole thing reminded me of a recipe I’ve cooked over the years. A friend once dubbed it the $8,000 Leg of Lamb because that’s what she said she’d pay for the recipe. You can have it free. It uses the same principle of letting meat juices drip into vegetables. If you like lamb, you’ll love it; if you don’t, just pass on by.

$8,000 leg of lamb with vegetables

About 5 white-skinned potatoes, peeled and sliced

3 onions, thinly sliced (these days I buy only sweet onions)

3 tomatoes, thinly sliced

Salt and pepper

Dried thyme

Chopped garlic to taste

¾ c. white wine

⅓ c. vegetable oil

6-7-lb. leg of lamb, excess fat trimmed but bone in

Grease a 9x13 pan and layer the bottom with sliced potatoes. Add onions and then tomatoes. Sprinkle each layer with salt, pepper, dried thyme, and a little chopped garlic. Pour white wine and vegetable oil over the vegetables. Cover pan with a cake or oven rack.

Season lamb to taste with salt and pepper and set it on the cake rack. Roast at 400° until meat thermometer registers 145° (about 75 minutes—the lamb will be medium rare; roast longer for better done, but don’t overdo it!). Turn the lamb every 20 minutes or so and baste with liquids from the vegetables. Remove from oven and let it collect itself before carving.