Roast beef, vinegar green beans, and southwestern potatoes

We had a p re-Thanksgiving dinner tonight with semi-family, people who have come to be family to us. Jordan, Christian, and Jacob were here, along with neighbors Jay and Susan and temporary tenant and longtime friend Elizabeth. I admit, this dinner was a lot of work, most of it done last night, but the raves it got were worth it. Jordan said tonight, "It felt like Thanksgiving." Since she will miss Thanksgiving with the family due to another obligation, I thought this was particuarly appropriate.
For years I have had a roast beef recipe in my "Entrees Not Tried" file. I finally decided I had to try it or discard it. When it was published it said this was a reasonably priced cut of meat--not so when I bought it, but hey! Beef and all groceries ahe gone up. The roast required three garlic preparations--first you sauteed garlic cloves in olive oil, poked holes in the beef, and stuck the cloves in. My mom used to do that! Then you made a rub of mashed garlic, powdered thyme and salt, rubbed it all over the meat, and let it sit in the fridge overnight. Next day you rub the seasonings off with a paper towel, brown the meat in a 450 overn, and cover with garlic oil (you've made that by sauteeing 12 garlic cloves, split, in olive oil with bay leaves and thyme sprigs). Make a paste of those sauteed garlic cloves and a bit of the olive oil. Brown the roast on all side in a really hot oven, then reduce to 300, rub that last paste on the fat top, and roast until thermometer reads 120. We actually took it out at 116 and it wasn't nearly as rare as I'd hoped. But it was darned good.
I made Christian's green beans--bacon, chopped scallions sauteed in the grease, 2 huge cans of green beans, vinegar over all, and then the bacon sprinkled on top. He loves them.
And then there were southwestern baked potatoes--I didn't feel too bad about eating a twice-baked potato since there were small--the biggest red potatoes I could find.

Southewetern Stuffed Potatoes

Scrub six good-sized red potatoes, cut a bit off the bottom so they'll sit flat, rub with oil, and bake at 350 until tender.
When cool enough to handle, scoop out the insides (carefully) and mash with 1/2 c. shredded cheddar, 2 Tbsp. sour cream, 1 Tbsp. melted butter (I left it in the microwave and forgot it), 2 Tbsp. buttermilk, 1/2 tsp. each salt and pepper or to taste, and 1 4-oz. can chopped chillies. Carefully stuff mixture back into the potatoes and bake until bubbly. I took the roast out to rest, turned the oven up and reheated the potatoes while the roast rested.

Here's Susan's picture of her full plate and her after picture.

At the risk of sounding immodest about my cooking, I have to say it was a great dinner. But the company and the sense of family really made it perfect. We are blessed to have these people in our lives.

Sunday night suppers

My mom used to fix Sunday night supper when I was a kid. My brother was long out of the house, so Mom, Dad, and I had supper on a tea cart that she rolled in front of the living room fireplace. We had light meals--spinach soufflé (to this day I wish I had the recipe), cheese strata, sometimes Welsh rarebit, and always a big salad. Those were calm, peaceful evenings, and I remember them fondly.

But when I had a houseful of teenagers and Mom was no longer able to cook for all of us, Sunday dinner moved to my house and could include as many as twenty people. It was rowdy, noisy, and anything but the peaceful suppers of my childhood--I loved it. Over the years various individuals have said to me that they remember so well having Sunday dinner at my house--I guess I lost track of who joined us when. But it was always my four kids, Mom, my brother and his two kids, and assorted boyfriends, girlfriends, etc. Frequently Carole and Bill, a couple I was very fond of, joined us with their infant, my god-daughter Kate (now twenty-three)--we swore Bill would never learn to stand still because he stood in the corner and bounced the baby all evening. My longtime friend Mary Lu usually joined us.

We always held hands and said the grace the chldren had learned in preschool. John would say, "Start 'em out Jame," and we'd all recite,

“God is great, God is good;

Let us thank him for this food.

By his hand we are fed;

Give us, Lord, our daily bread.”

My brother, John, made it a habit to go around the table, asking everyone to tell about their week. And then there was that notorious Thanksgiving when Megan brought a new boyfriend. John asked us all to tell what we were thankful for. Megan had brought a new boyfriend to dinner, and when it was his turn, he stood and said, "I am thankful for Megan and her beauty." Well, her siblings and cousins had to cover their mouths to keep from guffawing, and to this day someone will say, "I'm thankful for Megan and her beauty," and everyone is off in gales of laughter, Megan included.

I cooked a lot of soups, stews, and casseroles in those years. Once when I was working on a historical cookbook, I fixed hamburger corn bread from the manuscript. John looked at me and asked, "Sis, is the budget the problem?" Sometimes I fixed leg of lamb (I must have been feeling plush) or such standards as King Ranch Chicken or a Tex-Mex casserole that feeds an army. I remember stuffed turkey breasts (a lot of work) and a stuffed pork roast.

But one recipe I wish I'd had in those days is now a favorite of mine.



Tamale pie with polenta

1 lb. ground sirloin, as fat-free as possible (now I use buffalo)

1½ Tbsp. chili powder

1 Tbsp. ground cumin

1 16-oz. bottle medium hot salsa (Pace picante preferred)

1 15-oz. can refried beans (original flavor or lowfat)

1¾ c. chicken broth (preferably from organic carton rather than canned)

½ c. chopped cilantro

2 1-lb. rolls prepared polenta, sliced ¼ inch thick

3½ c. shredded sharp cheddar

Brown beef, breaking up clumps. Add chili powder and cumin. Stir briefly. Add salsa, beans, and broth. Simmer until thick, about 10 minutes. Add the cilantro. Salt and pepper to taste.

Layer half the polenta in a greased 9x13 baking dish. Top with sauce and 1½ c. cheese. Top with remaining polenta and then remaining cheddar. Bake uncovered at 350° for 35 minutes. Let it sit a minute before serving.

Serves 8 generously.

I still like to make an occasion out of Sunday supper. Jordan, Christian, and Jacob often join me and I try to cook things that both Christian (a challenged eater, particularly of veggies) and 5-year-old Jacob will eat. If they're not coming to supper, I usually invite company. This Sunday, they're coming, and I think a longtime good friend will join us. I'm going to try Cleo Coyle's recipe for chicken parmesan from that wonderful blog, Mystery Lovers Kitchen. .