The famous Blackhawk Salad

 

When I was young, single, and working in Chicago, I was very much in love with a medical student a few years older. In retrospect, I think he tried to teach me a little sophistication. I clearly remember that the first time I was ever asked what I wanted to drink before dinner was at a restaurant dinner with his friends. I opted for a Tom Collins because I knew it was like lemonade (later found out gin gives me a headache). He was relieved I didn’t ask for a Coke. He took me to upscale restaurants and smokey bars that I would have never known about, and one of our favorite places was Chicago’s downtown Blackhawk Restaurant. I remember one night I wore a new blouse to the Blackhawk—I had spent an astounding $20 on it and felt very extravagant. This would have been in the late fifties.

The Blackhawk, opened in 1920 on North Wabash in the Loop, which meant the elevated roared overheard. Once inside, you never heard the trains. The Blackhawk was famous for its two specialties—the prime rib and the spinning salad bowl.for many years, they featured live music including big bands. Name entertainers appeared there, some like Mel Torme (he had gone to my high school) and Doris Day making their debut appearances, thers such as Kay Kyser, Chico Marx, Louis Prima, and Ish Kabibble were household names. You have to be really old to recognize these names. By the time Tom and I dined at the Blackhawk, the music was gone and the focus was on food. I don’t remember ever eating prime rib, but oh did we love that salad!

A waiter—always a dignified, elderly gentleman—wheeled a cart to the table. On it was a bed of ice and a large salad bowl that he spun on the ice. As he made the salad in front of you, he talked about what he was doing. Today I can still hear those men saying, “We toss it gently three times so as not to bruise the delicate greens.” I don’t remember about this, but I suspect the cream cheese/blue cheese mixture and the vinaigrette were pre-made in the kitchen. If you’ve ever ordered a Greek salad at Pappadeux, you’ll recognize the at-the-table technique.

Christian made this for us one night not too long ago and it was as good as I remembered. In the directions, you’ll note that this was pre-food processors, and the dressing was made in a blender. Today I think you can use either one. Don’t be intimidated by the long list of ingredients but do take heed of the warning that comes at the top of the recipe: Do not skip or substitute a single ingredient or change the proportions.

Blackhawk Salad

Ingredients

3 oz. cream cheese, softened

3 oz. blue cheese, crumbled

5 Tbsp. water

1 raw egg

1 Tbsp. plus 1-1/2 tsp fresh lemon juice

1 cup vegetable oil (In those days, we didn’t use olive oil as much as we do today, and I think olive oil might change the flavor of the dressing.)

2 Tbsp. mayonnaise

¼ c. red wine vinegar

1 Tbsp. sugar

2 Tbsp. chopped chives

1-1/2 tsp. Worcestershire sauce

¾ tsp. salt

¾ tsp. paprika

½ clove garlic

1-1/4 tsp. white pepper

¼ tsp. hot mustard

8 c. torn salad greens (romaine)

1 chopped, hard-boiled egg

Salt and pepper to taste

Mix cream cheese and blue cheese until smooth; add water, a Tbsp. at a time until the mixture is pourable. Set aside.

Combine raw egg, lemon juice, and ¼ c. oil in blender or processor—blend on medium for 15 seconds. Increase speed to high and blend in remaining oil in a steady stream. Stop to scrape down sides of container as necessary. Add mayonnaise, vinegar, sugar, chives, Worcestershire, salt, paprika, garlic, white pepper, and mustard and blend until smooth.

Toss greens in a large bowl with enough of dressing to coat. Sprinkle with chopped egg, salt and pepper, and toss gently. Do not bruise those tender greens!

Add 1 Tbsp. cheese mixture and toss again.

Find a Mel Torme concert online, listen to the “Velvet Fog,” and enjoy a Blackhawk Salad.

 

 

A Potato Salad Mystery

Potato salad isn’t just for July 4^th and Labor Day picnics. In some form or another, it’s with us year-round for family meals, restaurant meals, whatever. It’s a staple of the American diet—and yet, few people agree on the “best” potato salad. I once knew a man who ordered cheesecake everywhere it was on the menu because he was always looking for the “perfect” cheesecake. That’s sort of how I feel about potato salad.

I have my likes and dislikes: generally I don’t care for the heavy-on-the-mustard potato salad my daughter likes. Nor do I care for the mashed potato salad that is so common in barbecue joints. I like the version offered at Red, Hot, and Blue because it has large chunks of potato and hard-boiled egg. My son-in-law on the other hand would recoil from any dish that had had-boiled eggs in it. I think my favorite, make-it-at-home recipe is the County Line potato salad—from the Texas barbecue chain with that name. It has lots of dill relish in it. My daughter-in-law Lisa has a similar recipe that uses the relish and pickle juice and is delicious.

And then there’s potato salad without mayonnaise, usually with a vinegar and oil dressing. I make a hot German potato salad that Christian loves. It has a sauce thickened with flour and based on, gulp! bacon grease. Which reminds me that Jordan found a recipe for potato salad with bacon in it. She was intrigued; me, not so much. But you see the wide variety of things that fall under that oh-so-general label of potato salad.

My friend Elaine has no problem deciding which is the “best” potato salad. Elaine grew up in Sweetwater and pretty much longs to live there still. She makes frequent weekend trips to her hometown and when there, always eats at a place she refers to as Mrs. Allen’s. Actually it’s Allen’s Family Meals, a small building on one of the main roads through Sweetwater. Inside, diners sit at a common table and strangers soon become friends. Food is served family style.

It’s the potato salad that draws Elaine. In fact, I’m not sure but that it’s what draws her back to Sweetwater. The trouble is Mrs. Allen apparently doesn’t give out her recipe, and Elaine can’t duplicate the dish. So she brought me some potato salad and a list of ingredients without any quantities or proportion. I can’t duplicate it either. It’s a mashed potato salad and one look identifies the pimiento, but the other ingredients are more elusive. Elaine’s note says “a capful of vinegar and sugar to taste” but there’s no indication of how many potatoes take a capful of vinegar. Here’s Elaine’s list:

Mayonnaise

Sugar

Vinegar

Pimientos

Onions

Eggs

Potatoes

I can definitely taste the vinegar and sugar—a tiny bit too sweet for me—and there is the occasional crunch of minced onion. But the mayo is pretty well masked, and if there are eggs, they must be pulverized. The salad is creamy smooth.

If it were up to me, I’d cut back just a bit on the sugar and add more crunch—green onions and finely diced celery probably. But I haven’t a clue how much vinegar, sugar, and mayo are really in it. And as Elaine’s note says, the vinegar and sugar are what distinguish this version of the staple.

Elaine and I would appreciate any help, so if you come up with an approximation of Mrs. Allen’s potato salad, please write me at j.alter@tcu.edu. I’ll ask Elaine to be the official taster.

Happy to be home

Sophie and I had a wonderful, terrific, marvelous week in Tomball—okay, except for the dogfight which maybe taught her she is not invincible nor is she the biggest kid on the block. But she loved being in the middle of an active household, where she was on constant alert lest she miss something. Tonight, we are happy to be home in the cottage, which is pretty dull and quiet.

Colin, Kegan, Sophie, and I left Tomball just before 10:30 this morning. A glorious day for a drive. There had been heavy rains throughout Central and South Texas Wednesday night—as usual I heard the thunder but not the rain, but in the morning the lake was really high, and the lowest portion of the patio was under water. This morning, with bright skies and blazing sun, we saw water everywhere—stock tanks were overflowing and creeks had burst their banks. At some points on Highway 6, around Marlin, there were sudden new lakes lapping the road on either side. I’ve seen it before on that stretch of highway, but it always surprises me. The road from College Station to Waco is one I traveled so often for sales meetings when I was working that I have all the landmarks memorized. I particularly love going through Calvert, that funky town full of old shops and antiques and falling down buildings.

We met Jordan and Jacob in Waco at a place my kids all rave about but where I had never been before. A tiny hole-in-the-wall with outdoor seating, so we could take Sophie. Called the Health Camp, it’s everything but. What it is, is greasy hamburgers. Through a mix-up we got a BLT for Colin, but I knew he had his taste buds ready for a cheeseburger, and I didn’t, so we traded. It was one of those sandwiches grilled on the outside so that everything about it is greasy, and some of the bacon was undercooked. It is not, however, the kind of place where you call the maître d’ and complain about your food. Kegan got a chili/cheese dog which I would not have known how to attack—he waded in and did a credible job on it. The best thing about the experience was the milkshakes—Jordan and Jacob had chocolate, Colin had strawberry, and Kegan had cookies ‘n cream. Being a novice, I didn’t know to order a milkshake, but I tasted, and they were thick and creamy and good.

An aside: when I was a kid there was an ice cream parlor (those shops we unfortunately don’t have anymore) about eight blocks from our house. They served milkshakes so thick the straw stood straight up in them. My mom would sometimes give my friend Eleanor Lee and me money for shakes for lunch, and we rode our bikes up to 53rd Street—a busy commercial street. Being allowed to do that was a big deal, and the shakes were the best thing we’d ever eat—or so we thought. A win/win deal. Today’s didn’t quite meet that standard, but they were good.

Health Camp is on the roundabout with the old Elite Café, that Waco traditional landmark. I had heard that Chip and Joanna Gaines had bought it, and today, lo and behold! It had a sign boasting, “The Magnolia Table.” Next time through Waco I’m going to lobby for that, but I may be unsuccessful. My family is really sold on the greasy spoon hamburgers.

Jordan, Jacob, Sophie and I got to Fort Worth a little after 3:30, and Jacob had a 4:00 p.m. orthodontist appointment, so Sophie and I got to sit in the car for half an hour. It was okay. She was a bit anxious; I calmly read emails. Jacob got the worst of the deal because something on his braces had broken and had to be repaired.

And then, before 5:00 p.m., we were home. I’ve turned on my Christmas lights and started unpacking, but I’m going to have a late version of my afternoon nap and then worry about dinner. My cupboard is pretty bare.

What wonderful Christmas memories I brought home with me. And now, on to the New Year.