Not my day in the kitchen

Today was one of those days I just should have stayed out of the kitchen. I was making a meatloaf that called for two eggs. Cracked one egg into the bowl and put the shell on a nearby paper towel headed for the trash; cracked the second egg--right into the paper towel. So I carried the whole sodden mess to the trash, hoping it would drip, and got a third egg--three eggs to get two. Then I was frying bacon for a one-person wilted lettuce salad--and I burned it. So two pieces of bacon to get one usable one.
I will says the meatloaf was delicious. Lamb, with a bit of ground pork--yes, greasy, and a mess to clean up after, but because I put it on a rack, the grease all dripped down and the meatloaf itself was not greasy at all. Simply seasoned with parsley, basil, parmesan, salt and pepper but it had a great flavor. And I used a trick I learned from a Paula Dean recipe--use Ritz crackers for crumbs instead of bread. Not non-fat and I know it, but it gives great texture and richness. I forgot my mom's trick of throwing in a handful of instant tapioca to make it hold together, but the meatloaf had great texture and didn't need it. Should make great sandwiches tomorrow.
There's a great history of mystery novels and cooking. The two seem to go together, and I think sometime I'll do an article on it. You can call up several theories--in a world of blood and murder, people want comfort is one of the most common. Several classic mystery sleuths have been cooks and you can get their cookbooks today--there's a Nancy Drew cookbook and one of Nero Wolfe's recipes, along with one by Patricia Cornwall. And many more. But the recipe I used tonight was a modernized version from Nero Wolfe's book. It reminded gently that you could put crackers or bread, parley, and chopped shallots in a food processor but pointed out that in Nero Wolfe's days that gadget didn't exist. Anyway, if you want to try it, the cookbook is available online and I found the actual recipe online.
With my meatloaf, I had canned corn--left over because my daughter opened too many cans for a party dip last night--and wilted lettuce.

Wilted lettuce is an old and simple recipe from my mom:

Fry bacon (and try not to burn it--classic wisdom is when you fry bacon, stand there and watch it; do not wander away to your computer).
Drain bacon
Tear up fresh leaf lettuce into bite size pieces
Put vinegar in the bacon drippings (about 2/3 drippings to 1/3 vinegar); heat
Pour hot oil/vinegar over greens.
Crumble bacon into salad.

Optional: after bacon is fried, sauté a chopped scallion or two in the grease.

You can do this with fresh spinach, and my son-in-law, Christian, particularly likes it if I do it with canned green beans.

Happy cooking--and watch your bacon!

Eating Locally

Please welcome my guest, locavore Edith Maxwell. Her Local Foods Mystery series (Kensington Publishing) lets her relive her days as an organic farmer in Massachusetts, although she never had a murder in the greenhouse. A fourth-generation Californian, she has also published short stories of murderous revenge, most recently in Best New England Crime Stories 2014: Stone Cold (Level Best Books, 2013) and  Fish Nets (Wildside, 2013).

 

Edith’s alter-ego Tace Baker writes the Speaking of Mystery series, which features Quaker linguistics professor Lauren Rousseau (Barking Rain Press). Edith is a long-time Quaker and holds a long-unused doctorate in linguistics. The second in the series, Bluffing is Murder, releases in November, 2014.

 

A mother and former technical writer, Edith is a fourth-generation Californian but lives north of Boston in an antique house with her beau and three cats. She blogs every weekday with the other Wicked Cozy Authors, and you can also find her at @edithmaxwell, on Facebook, and at www.edithmaxwell.com

 

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Thanks for letting me contribute to Potluck with Judy!

 

I write a local foods mystery series, and the books follow organic farmer Cam Flaherty through the vagaries of growing and selling locally. Most of her farm customers are eager to make local foods as much of their diet as they can.

 

Traditionally, of course, everybody ate local. If it didn’t grow in your region, you didn’t have access to it. New Englanders didn’t eat oranges and southern Californians didn’t eat apples. And if a crop could be harvested only in June and it was January, you still didn’t have access to it unless you had canned it or stored it in the root cellar. Slowly, with transcontinental transport systems, like trains and trucks, we started being able to buy anything we wanted any time of the year we wanted it. Now, of course, you can get grapes from Chile, clementines from Morocco, shrimp from Thailand.

 

These days more and more folks are interested in eating primarily foods that come from within, say, a fifty- or hundred-mile radius of where they live. Barbara Kingsolver’s non-fiction book, Animal, Vegetable, Mineral, describes the story of her family doing exactly that in Tennessee (with one exception for each person: Coffee! Chocolate! Olive oil!). They belong to a local farm-share program like Cam’s, they shop at the weekly farmers’ market. They even seek out locally brewed wines and beers. They are locavores.

 

I love this idea, although I don’t love eating sagging root crops out of storage in March or not being able to have some fresh citrus fruits in December. But I do try to use as many local crops as possible, and several local farms in my area have been growing fresh greens all winter long in high tunnels (greenhouses).

 

The second book in my series, ‘Til Dirt Do Us Part, came out at the end of May (Kensington Publishing, 2013). It starts at a fall Farm-to-Table dinner, with a local chef cooking Cam’s produce in her barn and a bunch of guests eating under a big rented tent on the farm. Days are getting short and the mood at the dinner is unseasonably chilly.

 

When one of the guests turns up dead on a neighboring farm the next day, even an amateur detective like Cam can figure out that one of the resident locavores went loco – at least temporarily – and settled a score with the victim. The closer she gets to weeding out the culprit, the more Cam feels like someone is out to cut her harvest short. But to keep her own body out of the compost pile, she has to wrap this case up quickly. A subplot features rescue chickens, which Cam finds both delightful and problematic, but at least she’ll have local eggs to sell.

 

I hosted a Labor Day cookout last fall and was pleased that I could present my guests with all kinds of locally based dishes. And doubly pleased that nobody turned up dead the next day!

 

One of the dishes I served was one I call Fall Locavore Orzo. Use fresh local ingredients wherever possible. We don’t grow wheat in New England, so the pasta is never going to be local!

 

Ingredients:

½ box orzo

2 T good olive oil

1 pound washed and drained kale leaves stripped off stems, cut into ribbons

2 cloves garlic, minced

½ lb green beans, cut into inch-long pieces

1 handful fresh basil, cut into ribbons

1 T. rice wine vinegar

bottled hot sauce

 

Directions:

1. Cook orzo according to directions on box until al dente, then rinse in cool water and drain. Transfer to medium serving bowl.
2. Heat oil in a sauté pan over medium heat.
3. Sauté the beans and kale in the oil until tender.
4. Add the garlic and sauté one more minute. Do not let brown.
5. Remove from heat and add vegetables to the orzo.
6. Add basil, salt and pepper to taste, and a shake of hot sauce.
7. Add 1 T. vinegar and toss all. Add more oil or vinegar to taste.
8. Serve at room temperature.

 

Good as a side dish. To make into a main course salad, add cubed feta cheese or some diced ham or chicken. Can also serve hot if you omit the vinegar.

 

Readers, what’s your favorite local food? Or the one you most like to read about?

 

 

 

 

Two spllinters, three burns, and a great educaiton

Please welcome my guest,KB Inglee, with a really fascinating contribution to my potluck posts. KB writes short historical mystery fiction and is currently at work on a collection of stories set between 1870 and 1890. She works at two living history museums where she learns what she needs for her writing. The staff historians and an archaeologist are founts of information. She tends a flock of heritage sheep and works a water-powered gristmill that was built in 1704. Her joy is showing off the sheep, the mill and the miller's house to school kids. For more pictures check out: Newlin Grist Mill at www.newlingristmill.org and Greenbank Mill and Philips Farm at www.greenbankmill.org. Leave her a message.

 "Joseph's Captivity," her story, set in Colonial America, is a combination of Bible story and myth about colonial life. Joseph is a grumpy hero who undervalues what he has until he is about to lose it. You can find it at: http://store.untreedreads.com/index.php?main_page=advanced_search_result&search_in_description=1&keyword=KB+Inglee

 KB lives in Wilmington, Delaware with her family, one dog, four cats, three birds and four turtles. She has been a member of Sisters in Crime, and two chapters, Delaware Valley and Guppies, for ages.

 Two Splinters, Three Burns and a Great Education

First off let me tell you that I am not a cook. I can’t light and maintain a fire, nor can I get the lumps out of cake batter.

Never let it be said that this failure ever held me back from doing anything historical. For years I taught kids how to make Jumbles (snickerdoodles) in a Dutch oven and soap over an open fire. I believe that I can’t write historical fiction successfully unless I have done what my characters do and live as they have lived. I actually believe that no one can. I often find errors in historical fiction that wouldn’t be there if the authors had spent a little time in the century they are writing about.

I was delighted when the mill where I worked added a wood-fired oven. I cherished the opportunity to help fire it up (see above about lighting fires), to clean it out for baking and especially to eat anything baked in it. If you are going to bake at nine in the morning you have to start firing it at five. I am an early riser so this was no problem for me.

All of us who used the oven got together to experiment. We brought our favorite recipes (or to be historically accurate, receipts) from home, along with all the equipment we needed. We mixed up whatever we chose to make and cooked it in the oven. I chose a spice cake that my protagonist Emily makes for special occasions (c 1890). I brought a leg of lamb as well. When everything was done we feasted. The food was spectacular. Maybe it was because we had labored long and hard in the cold, because we all had burns and splinters, or because we were in good company. While all of those are true, it may have been simply that food cooked in a wood-fired oven tastes better.

Making cornmeal mush is great fun. You mix cornmeal, salt and water, then sit by the fire and stir it constantly for two to four hours until it is done. I learned something unexpected from doing it. I was wearing jeans and the fire heated the cloth that was right next to my skin to unbearable. I had to keep shifting sides to avoid real burns. When I cook at the mill, I wear a petticoat which doesn’t touch my skin and so I am protected from the heat. Who knew?

I once trekked with Lewis and Clark. I was the head cook for this weekend adventure. The kids learned surveying and mapping, how to keep a journal, do cyphers, and how to keep a camp. The biggest eye-opener for us all was that they had to barter for food. There was nothing in the camp kitchen, so if they didn’t get it we didn’t eat. The trader was kind enough to remind them that food tastes better with salt. He explained the other reasons we use salt in cooking. I’m sure they wouldn’t have thought to get salt, especially since it cost one knife. I'm also sure they would have complained about the taste.

I spend a lot of time trying to convince people that food doesn’t start out wrapped in plastic. When I tell kids that the cute fluffy white animals in the pasture are both meat and wool sheep, they are appalled. Most of them have never eaten lamb or mutton; most of them don’t believe food lives in

pastures and is cute. On the same Lewis and Clark adventure we had to butcher chickens. Every one of the kids was excited and volunteered to help. When it actually came down to doing harm to the birds, or worse yet putting your hand inside to get the guts out, they were nowhere to be found. They did show up at the dinner table.

Me? Cook? Never! I do experimental culinary archeology.

 

 

Reciepts

This is my own version of Lobscouse. I believe the copy I got from another museum interpreter was based on the receipt from Lobscouse and Spotted Dog: Which It's a Gastronomic Companion to the Aubrey/Maturin Novels, by Anne Chotzinoff Grossman.

I like the spice mixture so much that I make it up in quantity and keep a jar around. This stew is much better the second day.

 Lobscouse

2 lbs. beef cut in 2 inch cubes                           

2 lbs. smoked ham

1 bay leaf                                                        

6 lg. potatoes   

3 ½ cups ship's biscuit (around 8 oz.)   

½ tsp. ground cardamom

1 tsp. ground allspice                          

1 tsp. mace      

salt                                                                  

4 lg. onions

4 leeks                                                            

1 tsp. ground nutmeg

½ tsp. ground cloves                                        

dash cayenne

freshly ground pepper

I leave out the ground cardamom. The original calls for ship's biscuit. You can actually buy or you can get or make yourself. I use stale bread crumbs or saltines.

[Editor’s note: ship biscuits are hard, non-perishable biscuits good for long sea voyages; also known as hardtack.)

Place the meat in a pot with bay leaf and cold water to cover. Bring to a boil and cook, covered, over medium-low heat until tender (2 ½ to 3 hours). Remove the meat from the pot and discard the bay leaf. Skim and reserve the slush (fat). Reserve 3 cups of the cooking liquid.

(If you are using smoked ham instead of corned pork, the texture will be improved by pre-cooking it with the beef for an hour.)

Trim the meat and cut it into ¼ inch dice. Peel the onions and potatoes and cut them into ¼ inch dice. Put the potatoes in cold water to cover.

Remove the root tips and the tough green ends of the leeks. Cut the remaining portion in quarters, lengthwise, and wash thoroughly under running water, separating the layers to remove any grit. Cut into ¼ inch slices.

Place the Ships’ Biscuit in a plastic bag and pound it into coarse crumbs.

Heat 6 Tbsp. of slush in a large frying pan over high heat. Add the meat and cook, stirring occasionally, until it begins to brown (10 – 15 minutes). Remove the meat from the pan and set aside, draining as much fat as possible back into the pan.

Sauté the onions over medium heat in the same pan (adding a little more slush--I use bacon fat if needed) until they start to soften. Add the leeks and cook until the onions start to brown. Drain the potatoes, add to the onion mixture, and cook, stirring often, about 5 minutes. Add the browned meat. Cover and cook over medium-low heat until the potatoes are almost tender (5 - 10 minutes).

Stir in the pounded biscuit and 1 ½ cups of the reserved cooking liquid. Add the spices, and salt and pepper to taste. Mix well. Cover and cook another five minutes.

 Aunt Caddie's Cake

From Boston Cooking School Cookbook by Fannie Farmer, 1896, as updated in 1962. Miss Farmer is considered the mother of the level measure.

Sift together

            2 cups flour

            1 tsp cinnamon

            1 tsp powdered cloves

            ½ tsp allspice

            ½ tsp salt

            1 tsp baking soda

            2 tsp baking powder

Beat two eggs until thick and lemon colored

Beat into the eggs

            1 cup sugar

            2 tablespoons molasses

Beat alternately into the egg mixture the flour mixture and 1 cup sour milk or buttermilk

Stir in lightly 2/3 cup melted shortening or oil

Bake in a moderate wood-fired oven 'til done, or in a modern oven set at 375 degrees for 25 minutes. Chocolate frosting makes it perfect.

[Editor’s note: No sour milk on hand? Stir on tsp. vinegar into a cup of milk.]

 

Cranberry Corn Bread

I have a friend who sends me a pound or so of cranberries from a local bog every year and I send him two pounds of corn meal ground at the 1704 water-owered gristmill where I work. This is a pleasant combination of both gifts.

About one cup of cranberries, cleaned and sorted

About half a cup of molasses

About half cup of water

Any standard cornbread recipe

Boil the cranberries in the molasses adding enough water to keep it from caramelizing. Cook until the berries have popped, and it has thickened. Stir the sweetened cranberries into the cornbread mixture once it is in the pan and bake as directed.

If you find errors in these recipes, remember I already told you I am not a cook.

 

Quick summer meal

 

Please welcome my guest chef, Judy Copek. An information systems nerd for twenty-plus years, Judy is a survivor of Dilbert-like re-engineering projects, 3:00 a.m. computer crashes and the Millennium Bug. In her writing, she likes to show technology’s humor and quirkiness along with its scary aspects.

Occasionally Judy takes a vacation that spins off into a novel. World of Mirrors was born when Judy and her husband visited the Baltic island of Rugen shortly after the reunification of East and West Germany. Time stood still on the idyllic island, yet all the elements of suspense were there: the Soviet Navy, ex-Stasi, Vietnamese “guest workers,” a dog that had formerly patrolled the Wall, and bad vibes from the days of the DDR.

 Judy is a member of Sisters in Crime, Mystery Writers of America, New England Pen, and Toastmasters International. She has published poems, short stories and memoir as well as an earlier novel, The Shadow Warriors.

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Sometimes one needs to produce a tasty meal when the “to do” list is long and devoting a lot of time to the task is impossible. Steak on the grill?  What about veggies? Salad? Dessert?

 Browsing through the newspaper ads, I saw shish-kebab meat on sale for $3.99 and I recalled an excellent recipe from days of yore, a recipe I have kept for over thirty years and still resurrect at least once a year. When I found the recipe, it was only for the marinade, not the cooking itself, with a cryptic note: Marinate 2 hours. 

 Not only did our local supermarket have the meat on sale, they had red bell peppers, baby bella whole mushrooms, cherry tomatoes and Vidalia onions on sale, too. I had some cooked rice in the freezers and a whole garden full of fresh herbs. Lots of lettuce, and a ready-made piecrust with some fresh rhubarb, strawberries and raspberries.  The fastest dessert ever is a crostata. 

 I’d make rice aux fines herbes, (sauté herbs with a little spring onion and garlic, add rice and heat). We are talking easy here.

 Sad experience has taught me that the vegetables I use for kebabs don’t always cook evenly. What happens is that the tomatoes fall off the skewers and the onion and peppers are half-cooked. A remedy is at hand. But first:  the ever-important marinade.

 Shish-Kebab Marinade for four shish kebabs

 Juice of ½ lemon

1/3 c. olive oil

½ cup sherry  (you can use white vermouth if no sherry)

1 T. Worcestershire sauce

1 T. salt  (I use about half that much).

½ t. freshly ground black pepper

1 t. curry powder

1 clove garlic (I’ll use two and smash them)

½ t. ground ginger  (by all means use fresh if you have it—this recipe predates assuming you can get fresh ginger)

1 small onion grated

Mix everything together in a large bowl, add cubed meat and toss. Marinate two hours.  Refrigerate, but remove ½ hour before you plan to grill.  Drain meat. There’s something about this combination of ingredients in the marinade that makes me keep coming back to it.

 About the grilling:

Cook the meat, the tomatoes, the onions and the red (you can use any color) pepper on separate skewers. This solves the problem of the overcooked tomatoes and undercooked onions. We remove everything from the skewers and serve meat and veggies together on a large wooden platter. 

 Let’s review the menu:

Shish kebab with onions, peppers, mushrooms and tomatoes

Rice aux fines herbes (chives, thyme, oregano and a leaf or two of sage)

Green salad (your favorite lettuce)

Crostata of rhubarb, raspberries and strawberries

For the crostata, I always mix sugar to taste and either cornstarch or instant tapioca with the fruit so the juices don’t run all over creation. This is the time to line your baking sheet with baking paper for easy cleaning and ten put pie dish on the baking sheet. 

 The meat is lean and you’re ingesting lots of fruits and vegetables. Tastes terrific, too! 

Bon Appétit!

 

 

 

Those ubiquitous green salads

For most of my life, I considered a green salad an essential ingredient of a meal, and I made them the way my mom did: put chopped tomatoes, scallions, maybe red onion, whatever else in the bottom of a wooden bowel (always unfinished wood), season with salt, pepper, garlic, whatever and toss. Mom was creative--sometimes there's be avocado, frequently blue cheese, sometimes parmesan for variety; she went through one spell of using smoked salt until I think we both overdid it. But you put the lettuce (preferably home-grown) in at the last minute and tossed it with vinaigrette--a standard homemade dressing but in those days we didn't use olive oil--always Mazola, which she claimed was healthy. We never had head lettuce, let alone a wedge with Thousand Island (never saw that in my house though occasionally I like it now as a topping on an open-faced sandwich--but I make my own--never comes out that same way twice).
In recent years I've grown tired of the usual tossed salad and stopped fixing them. But three salads remain favorites:

The first is wilted lettuce, for which you need very fresh leaf lettuce. Fry some bacon (maybe two pieces per person), drain and reserve grease. Heat together about equal parts bacon grease and cider vinegar; just before serving, pour hot mixture over the greens (not so much that you drown them) and crumble bacon over it.

The second salad is Jordan's to make whenever I cook dinner and salad is on the menu. Rub a wooden bowl thoroughly with a cut garlic clove; then with salt, pepper, and dry mustard (Jordan sometimes has a heavy hand and gets the dressing a bit stout); pour some vinegar in the bottom of the bowl--and here I'm lost for measurements. Not too much, because you'll need to add 1/3 again that much olive oil--if you end up with too much dressing, refrigerate; it keeps. Crumble blue cheese into vinegar and whisk with a fork until it's a fairly smooth mixture. Add olive oil and whisk again. This can be done a bit ahead but not too far because you don't want that good wooden bowl to soak up all your dressing. Tear lettuce leaves and toss just before serving. I suppose you could add croutons--we never do since Jordan is perpetually on a no-carb diet.

And the third: an overnight salad I have in the fridge right now. I get the recipe from a neighbor who

got it from a friend, but I feel like it's mine now since I've made it several times. Today I made it early this morning, so by supper it will have been refrigerated overnight. This is the salad before tossing.
You need:

3 Tbsp. fresh lemon juice
9 Tbsp. olive oil
6 green onions, chopped
1 tsp. seasoned salt (I used regular salt)
4-6 cloves garlic, minced--I mashed four because I don't like finding little bits of garlic in my mouth, and I don't mince well
2 avocados, peeled and cut into chunks
I head romaine
3/4 c. grated Parmesan

Use a 9x13 glass baking dish (never metal or aluminum), combine lemon juice, oil, onions, salt and garlic. Add avocado chunks and stir until all is coated well. Tear romaine and layer on top of mixture. Cover with Parmesan. DO NOT STIR AT THIS POINT.
Seal tightly with plastic wrap--I used two layers and then a layer of foil--and refrigerate. Stir just before serving. Left is the salad on a pate after tossing, with meatloaf and corn casserole.

And these days, I kind of like a wedge of head lettuce, with a blue cheese/tomato/bacon dressing. But it's not as healthy as the salads above. Okay, maybe wilted lettuce isn't too healthy.
 

Is St. Louis in your travel plans? If so, read this!

Please welcome my Potluck with Judy guest, Holly Gilliatt. A self-confessed music, movie and accessories junkie, Holly's passion has always been writing. Give her an algebra quiz and she'll curl up in the fetal position. But throw a test requiring all essay answers her way and she's in heaven. Between the day job, husband, three kids, two dogs and cat—it’s not easy to find time to write. So she sacrifices the laundry pile to spin her tales of laughter, friendship and love. She's proud to call the St. Louis area her home.

I’m especially proud to welcome Holly because I have edited both her books in print, Til St. Patrick’s Day and Love in Sight, as well as the forthcoming Dreams, Interrupted. Holly nails it for the generation of thirty-to forty year olds, from music to attitude. She’s an incurable romantic, and sometimes I try to rein her in, but not too much. Her enthusiastic attitude toward love and life is infectious. Read her books for a good, warm feeling.

Tonight she introduces us to some foods unique to her beloved home town of St. Louis. I think I’d like to try Provel cheese…but I’m not sure.

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Judy—thank you so much for having me on your blog! Anyone that knows me knows that food is near and dear to me. If my boss at the day job wants to guarantee my participation in a meeting, all it takes is the mere mention of free food. I’m there.

So in my writing, it’s no surprise that many scenes revolve around cooking or dinners out or other meals. Eating is something that we all do, something that we all have in common. But one thing that’s so great about food is that different cultures, different parts of the world, or even different regions or towns in our country have such diverse culinary delights.

I live in St. Louis, Missouri and my hometown certainly has its share of dishes or cooking styles unique to this river town. You may be familiar with some of them like St. Louis-style bar-b-q, St. Louis-style pizza and we’re even credited with creating cotton candy—thanks to the 1904 World’s Fair. But there are also some food items originating from the Gateway city that you may not be familiar with, even though anyone hailing from St. Louis has certainly tasted them.

The first one that comes to mind is toasted ravioli. Ever heard of it? This delicious deep fried

St. Louis staple was once exclusive to the Midwest, but has made its way across the country (though I don’t think it’s very common elsewhere).

It’s widely accepted that toasted ravioli originated in St. Louis, but there are disputes as to who actually created it. Apparently it was by accident, when a ravioli was inadvertently dropped into a deep fryer sometime in the 1940s. Who knew it would start a St. Louis food sensation? It’s been delighting palates in this city ever since. You’d be hard pressed to find a buffet of appetizers in this town without crispy ravioli sprinkled with parmesan cheese with a side of marinara sauce. Whether they’re made fresh or you buy them frozen at the local grocery store to heat up at home, they make a great main dish when paired with a crisp salad topped with Italian dressing.

Another unique-to-St. Louis concoction is Gooey Butter Cake. Like toasted ravioli, it is believed to have been created by mistake, during the Great Depression. Since money was tight, it was decided that the flawed batter be baked instead of thrown away. Thus St. Louis’ love affair with Gooey Butter Cake was born. It’s not a typical type of cake; it’s more of a coffee cake since it is fairly flat and dense, usually only about an inch tall. It’s made with flour, butter, sugar and eggs, and covered on top with copious amounts of powdered sugar. Some versions add cream cheese, you know, to make it healthier. Like a brownie, it’s served cut into square pieces but not too big—it’s very rich and sweet. And don’t even think about looking at the fat or calorie content.

Here in St. Louis it’s common to see Gooey Butter Cake on the dessert table of potluck dinners or at a brunch, and I’m pretty sure on any given day you can walk into a local grocery chain in town and they’ll have several fresh and packaged up, ready for sale. In the last ten years or so, this sweet delight has worked its way into other parts of the country. But make no mistake…it started here where we like our food decadent and full of flavor. Here’s a link to a recipe you really ought to try: http://tidymom.net/2011/st-louis-gooey-butter-cake-recipe/

I’m sure there are many other food stuffs indigenous to this town, but the last one I’ll talk about is Provel Cheese. I’m used to Provel cheese, but unlike toasted ravioli and gooey butter cake, I can’t say that you’ll love it. In fact, many people—St. Louisans included—differ on whether or not they like Provel cheese. It may be an acquired taste.

The most famous use of Provel cheese is on St. Louis style pizza, popularized by the Imo’s Pizza chain. Everyone here knows their pizza, and most locals like it, but again—not all. Provel cheese has a distinct flavor and is known for sticking to your teeth. Cheese that could double as glue isn’t everyone’s idea of tasty. One of our famous exports, Jon Hamm (television and movie actor best known for portraying Don Draper on Mad Men), had to defend Imo’s Pizza to Jimmy Kimmel during an interview last year. It’s pretty comical, and he stays true to his hometown. You can see a clip here. They start talking Imo’s at 1:46 into the interview.

This controversial cheese is a unique combination of Swiss, cheddar and provolone cheese. Its low melting point makes it a very gooey cheese, even just at room temperature before it is melted. It is often used in pasta dishes, on cheese garlic bread, salads and of course pizza. Like toasted ravioli, it is generally believed to have been created in The Hill neighborhood—St. Louis’ section of town that was settled by Italian immigrants and still boasts Italian bakeries, stores and restaurants on nearly every street. It’s also responsible for raising baseball greats Yogi Berra and Joe Garagiola.

I don’t believe Provel cheese has migrated past St. Louis…I think this is one delicacy that most people are fine with St. Louis keeping to itself.

I hope you enjoyed this culinary trip through my hometown. Does it make you think of some dishes or treats unique to where you live?

 

If you’d like to connect with Holly (she loves hearing from her readers!) or just find out more about her books, you can find her here:

Website | Blog | Twitter | Facebook | Goodreads

Buy: Love in Sight

Buy: 'Til St. Patrick's Day

 Her latest release is a women’s fiction e-book boxed set—a great collection of 4 full-length novels for less than a dollar! Or if you like your books made of paper, she has two novels available in paperback with another due out in July. Here’s info on the boxed set:

Buy it for only $.99 for a limited time:

AMAZON | BARNES & NOBLE | IBOOKS | KOBO | SMASHWORDS | ALL ROMANCE EBOOKS

 

A cooking confession and a chicken salad casserole

I have probably been cooking sixty-five years--yes, thanks to my mom, I started early. But tonight I did something I've never done in all those long years--worked with a fresh jalapeno. I may never do it again. I followed all the precautions--washed my hands (repeatedly), did not touch my face, especially my eyes. Still, an hour later and two applications of hand lotion, my hands still sting. While I was cutting and chopping (in blender) my eyes watered, my nose dripped, and I coughed.
Usually I substitute canned chilies, but I recognize there's a flavor difference. I actually don't like pepper heat, though I can eat quite a bit of wasabi. Tonight I was making Dean Fearing's Texas Caviar--smoked salmon base. I've had it before, and it's wonderful, so I didn't want to substitute. I don't feel free to share Chef Fearing's recipe but you can easily find it online. It's good. And I suppose my hands will stop singing by the time I take it to neighbors' tomorrow night.
I have a sinking feel summer is here--early. It's to be 92 tomorrow and in the 80s all next week. You suppose it's wishful thinking to suggest this early heat spell forecasts a cool, pleasant summer? I know, I know
I had luncheon guests one day this past week and served a chicken salad casserole I've long fixed and liked, accompanied by fruit salad, fresh asparagus, and dinner rolls. Here's the chicken salad recipe.

3 c. cooked chicken, diced

2½ c. sliced celery
2 tsp. curry powder
1 tsp. lemon juice
¾ c. mayonnaise
½ c. sour cream

Topping

2 c. crushed potato chips

1 c. shredded sharp cheddar

Mix everything but chips and cheddar and refrigerate overnight in a refrigerator-to-oven dish. Just before serving, mix crushed potato chips with grated sharp cheddar. Top casserole and run under broiler until browned and cheese is melted. Chicken salad should still be cold. Serves six. You need a good freezer-to-oven dish to do this, but a cat broke the Corning dish I always used. Hint: refrigerate the salad in an icebox container; just before broiling, transfer to a pie plate, top with potato chip/cheese mixture and broil just until cheese melts and begins to brown.
Lovely summer dish!.