A trip down my kitchen memory lane

I keep my appalling recipe collection in a series of battered folders labeled Entries Tried, Entrees Not Tried, Vegetables and salads, Appetizers, and Desserts. There's also a ring binder into which I throw soup recipes, sauce recipes, breads, etc.--kind of a catch-all that I don't consult often because it's not as easy to get to as my folders.
This morning I set out to go through my Entrees Tried looking for a recipe for green enchiladas that I haven't made in years. Betty and I went to Tres Joses for spinach enchiladas tonight (I had a Groupon discount--I'm a big fan of Groupon and have enjoyed some good meals with its benefits). Made me think that spinach enchiladas would make a good blog post. And that post coming next Sunday night.
But this morning's prowl brought back so many memories of when I cooked this or that or how good I thought such-and-such was that I pulled a bunch of recipes to cook soon. (My Burton family will be coming for dinner some week-nights since I will be keeping Jacob after school--some of what I pulled are approriate but others would appall Christian.) For them I'll fix things like Judy's Sloppy Joe, which is really a hamburger/red wine casserole.
For instance, I found one page with tuna tonnato with eggplant salad and smoked salmon with egg salad and green beans, a couple of Salisbury steak recipes (I've been meaning to fix that for Christian because it's beefy and rich with sauce, and he'd love it).  I pulled some recipes that I could cook for myself or when Linda comes to dinner on class night--like a simple spaghettis sauce wtih tomatoes in juice, onion, garlic, salt, sugar and olive oil. What could be easier and healthier? (Helpful hint: my mom said to always add at least a pinch of sugar to tomato-based sauces to "round them off.")
 There's a tuna salad I found in the cookbook I dropped in the sink--had to photocopy all the recipes I wanted to save! This salad calls for a can tuna packed in olive oil (I have to much water-packed on hand I simply drain it and add a bit of olive oil), a tomato seeded and chopped, capers, salt, pepper, basil, and olive oil.
How about quick muschroom and bacon pasta? Or a 20-minute black bean soup? The recipe I'll share tonight comes directly from Krista Davis at Mystery Lovers Kitchen--my favorite food blog. Krista got it from Jaden Hair at SteamyKitchen.com who apparently got it from Chef Jesse Thomas. As always, I've adjusted it. Krista used chicken legs but I love thighs--and I have two in the freezer. The original recipe calls for ten chicken legs, so I cut to approximate proportions.

1/2 tsp. dried oregano
1/2 tsp. dried rosemary--I used fresh from my luxurious bushes
1/4 tsp. Kosher salt
1/4 tsp. cumin
2 chicken thighs
1 Tbsp. olive oil
1/4 tsp. garlic powder
1/8 cup grated Parmesan
1/4 tsp. seasoned salt

Preheat oven to 425. Put chicken legs on a rimmed baking sheet so juices don't run all over the oven. Krista suggests a broiler pan, but grease it with olive oil first so your chicken doesn't stick. Mix oregano, rosemary, salt, and cumin. Sprinkle on chicken. Bake 45 minutes. Keep an eye that it doesn't get too brown, and decrease heat if necessary.

Just before the chicken comes out of the oven, mix garlic powder, salt, melted butter, and Parmesan. Toss the chicken in it--I usually just smear it on top since thighs don't "toss" like legs.

Tastes great the next day if you nibble on a cold piece.

What about you? Do you have recipes tucked away in your kitchen memory lane that you'd share? I'd love to have them. Send to me at j.alter@tcu.edu.

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. .

My "Appalling Collection"

Here it is—the debut of my food column. For me cooking and writing go together perfectly. I read somewhere recently that working with your hands engages the left brain, so your right brain is free to wander around and capture intuitions. In simple words, you might have plot inspirations while cooking.

            Thanks to Beth Knudson and Weldon Adams for naming the blog. They suggested that potluck might convey the community feeling I want. I do want to hear from you, have your contributions, be they recipes, thoughts on cooking, a guest column, whatever. Leave a comment, and if you want me to get back to you, please leave an email address.

            Let me stress that I’m a hobby cook, not a professional; cooking is my avocation. I once considered naming the cookbook I wrote, The Faux Gourmet, but an editor nixed it. So the cookbook is Cooking My Way Through Life with Kids and Books (available on Amazon.com or call 1-800-826.8911 or ask your local bookstore). But don’t look to me for perfection or ultimate authority, and do feel free to question ingredients and amounts and methods. This is all just fun.

            The other night I spent about two hours making two dips to take to a memorial reception for a friend’s mother the next day. After my offer of food was graciously accepted, I went to my appalling collection. My mom had an appalling collection--a black, three-ring notebook for each category of food—main dishes, cookies, salads, and so on. When we were cleaning out her house, I started to go through those notebooks and gave up. It made me sad, and I figured I already had most of the recipes I wanted. But it also made me sad to throw out all those notebooks she had carefully kept all those years—“Aunt Ruthie’s Frosting” or “Gladys Delavan’s Salad” or “Elizabeth Jackson’s Molasses Cookies,” most of them handwritten though some were pulled from newspapers or magazines and carefully pasted onto notebook pages.

            My own appalling collection isn’t quite that organized or neat. It’s in a series of folders that take up two drawers in Mom’s secretary, which now stands in my bedroom. The recipes are in five folders: Entrees Tried, Entrees Never Tried, Appetizers, Salads and Vegetables, and Desserts. My method has several problems—the file folders are stretched beyond capacity and are probably at least twenty years old, so they are fraying and falling apart and some are Scotch-taped together. And the recipes are in no order, except that the ones I’ve used or looked at most recently tend to be on top. But we are talking thick folders here. So if I want a specific recipe, I sometimes have to thumb through the whole darn file to find it. I know so many of the recipes by sight and feel that sometimes I thumb through too fast and have to go back and start over again.

            Dinner guests? No problem. Depending on my mood and how well I know the guests I may go to the Entrees Tried or Entrees Never Tried folder. The latter is so thick I will never try them all in this lifetime, but it is rich with recipes that sounded good. Sometimes, though, as I go through I think, “I’ll never fix that” and I do a bit of judicious weeding. Today I added Paula Deen’s scallop sliders with cilantro-lime mayonnaise to the Never Tried folder. I’ll fix it for Jordan one night when Christian is busy—she’d love it, and he is a beef-and-potatoes guy.

            I subscribe to three food magazines—Food & Wine, Bon Appetit, and Southern Living. When a new issue arrives, I spend a delightful hour leafing through it, idly marking recipes I think are interesting. A few days later, I go back for a serious review, tearing out the pages I want and discarding the rest of the magazine. I learned I had to do that once when I had accumulated abou six years worth of Bon Appetit.

            Cookbooks? Oh yes, I have one long, overcrowded shelf of them in the playroom—but I most often go to my appalling collection unless I want something specific from one of the books. So here are the two recipes I took to the reception.

Reuben dip

Includes all the ingredients of a Reuben sandwich. Serve it with cocktail-size pumpernickel.

4 oz. cream cheese (low fat preferably)

½ cup Thousand Island dressing—I made my own of ½ c. mayonnaise, 2 Tbsp. ketchup, 1 Tbsp. each dill pickle relish and grated onion, 1/8 tsp. each salt and celery salt

1/3 lb. corned beef – put it in the blender to shred it

8 oz. Swiss cheese, chopped into small pieces

¾ cup drained sauerkraut – leaving it drain in a colander is not enough; you’d be surprised at how much moisture you get out when you squeeze by hand . . . .and squeeze and squeeze.

Soften cream cheese and mix with Thousand Island dressing. Blend in remaining ingredients and pour into a pie shell. Bake at 350 for 20 minutes. Serve warm.

Got leftovers? Spread them on a piece of toast (rye is best) and broil—great lunch. I left the remaining dip with the hostess, but today I made a great open-face sandwich of sourdough bread, kraut, corned beef, and Swiss cheese, topped with the sauce.

Dried tomato dip

1 garlic bulb

1 tsp olive oil

11 oz. goat cheese

8 oz. low fat cream cheese

2 Tbsp. chopped chives—except in the dead of winter I always have a pot on the porch

½ c. sun-dried tomatoes packed in oil; drain, rinse, and chop in the blender

A pinch of salt

A pinch of finely ground black pepper—you can use fresh coarse ground, but personally I don’t like to bite down on a big piece of pepper.

Cut the pointed end off the garlic, put it in foil, drizzle with olive oil, and bake at 425 for 45 minutes. Let cool, then squeeze garlic out into mixing bowl. Add remaining ingredients and mix well.

Serve with crudities and crackers; I used broccoli, snap peas, carrots, and some tomato-basil Wheat Thins.

I hope you’ll leave a comment. If you are a foodie, this blog is for you and is yours as much as mine.