The Go-To Snacks of Literary Greats

Wendy MacNaughton loves to snack on garlic croutons when working and began wondering about what the literary greats snacked on.

Walt Whitman began the day with oysters and meat, while Gustave Flaubert started off with what passed for a light breakfast in his day: eggs, vegetables, cheese or fruit, and a cup of cold chocolate. The novelist Vendela Vida told me she swears by pistachios, and Mark Kurlansky, the author of “Salt” and “Cod,” likes to write under the influence of espresso, “as black as possible.”

Luckily for us, she did a charming sketch of some of the great writers' favorite snacks. Check it out at the New York Times.

Via Scott Danielson on Google+

CSA Story: Potatoes, Basil, and Creativity

There's a certain sense of accomplishment I feel when I am getting dinner ready, realizing that somehow I should be working in disparate ingredients from the CSA cooler. It's like being on one of those cooking shows, handed a box of odd ingredients and told to make dinner with it.

Certainly it pushes me out of my comfort zone and into inspiration. And sometimes ... every so often ... it pushes me into a place where my family is delighted with the inspiration.

Yesterday, for example, I was making Baked Salmon with Horseradish Sauce. I had picked up some fresh green beans at the store last weekend but was wondering what starch to have with the meal. Then I remembered the red potatoes from the CSA, some of them were fairly small. I could have potatoes and green beans.

Super simple in first boiling a pot of water, then putting in the potatoes, and toward the last 10 minutes or so dropping in the tailed green beans. (If the potatoes are different sizes, I just pull the smaller ones when they are done and pop them back in to warm up right before I drain the whole thing.

When I opened the fridge to get the beans out, I smelled the fresh basil that the farmer also brought last weekend. Basil. When was I ever going to use that? Pasta was my usual use for basil and that wasn't in my sights until way after that basil went bad.

And then I remembered. An Italian region makes green beans, potatoes, and pesto. Or at least it seemed as if I had read something about that. But I had no time to look up recipes and, truth be told, no inclination.

I pulled the basil, washed and dried it, threw it in the food processor along with a pinch of salt, a clove of garlic, and a small handful of walnuts. I whirred it until everything looked as small as it was going to get (pretty grainy, not smooth) and then I glugged in some olive oil until it was less solid but not really runny. Then I threw in a couple handfuls of grated Parmesan and whirred again. Done.

Yes, all of this was off the cuff so those are the best descriptions you're gonna get. Blame Nigel Slater and my ongoing reading of Tender.

When the potatoes and beans were tender (should've snapped those beans in half, but there's always next time), I tossed them with the impromptu pesto.

And nervously put it in a dish in front of Tom.

Who tentatively tried it, said, "This is really good!" and reached for more.

It was really good.

The chances would have been slim of me actually looking that up in the cookbook and deliberately getting the ingredients to put that dish together.

But thanks to the mystery box each week from the CSA, we got a delicious, semi-authentic Italian dish and I had a sense of creativity that is all too rare.

Aperol, St. Germaine, and Mrs. 404

Some time ago the Wall Street Journal ran an article featuring cocktails made with Aperol and St. Germaine.

What was interesting about this article is that both Tom and I read it. Our usual practice is to bring up articles, discover that the other person never read it and then to fill each other in. Was it because it was about cocktails? Was it because the Aperol just could not possibly be that vivid orange color? Was it because we both think of "Your Mother was a hamster and your father smells of elderberries*" when we see the word elderflowers (prime ingredient in St. Germaine)?

We will probably never know.

What we do know is that at the end of our discussion we had gotten interested enough to go out and buy a bottle of each. Frustratingly, though I remembered having seen Aperol as a mystery ingredient of practically every other recipe in our Mr. Boston: Official Bartender's Guide, now I could find none of them.

The Aperol is vividly orange both in color and flavor, but with an underlying bitter anchor of rhubarb. St. Germaine liqueur tastes, as the liquor store stockboy surprisingly and eloquently told Tom, "Fresh." Fresh as a spring day, one might say, with the full realization that such a description is not at all evocative on the mind's palate.

At any rate, eventually we made an Aperol Spritz and an Aperol Sour, both of which I will supply recipes for in the future.

Rose discovered the Mr. 404 because she chooses cocktails for their names. It is a Vodka cocktail containing both Aperol and St. Germaine. Tasty enough, but I do not favor Vodka, feeling that I enjoy flavor from my alcohol as well as a buzz.

Therefore, I took the creative license of substituting Gin for the Vodka and, in the age-old cocktail tradition, renaming the drink somewhat after myself.

Thus was the Mrs. 404 born. And there was great rejoicing.* We all preferred it to the original and it has become a mainstay among our weekend cocktail choices.

Try it and see what you think.

Mrs. 404

1-1/2 ounces Gin
3/4 ounce lemon juice
3/4 ounce St. Germaine
1/2 ounce Aperol
1/2 ounce simple syrup**

Shake with ice and strain into a chilled cocktail glass.

**Simple Syrup
Equal parts water and granulated sugar, heated over a flame, and then cooled and stored in refrigerator until needed. Keeps indefinitely refrigerated in a scrupulously clean container.

*Monty Python and the Holy Grail

How to Kill E. coli on Vegetables

Monica Reinagle, The Nutrition Diva, has the answer and it is not the one that I thought I knew. Everyone ought to get this information and be sure you listen to it all.

I wondered whether these very toxic strains of E. coli might be especially hard to kill. It turns out that they’re not really that invincible—they’ve just developed some very clever survival tactics. “If these E. coli bacteria were just floating around in a bucket of water, a little bleach or even some vinegar would kill them right away,” Dr. Brackett explains. “But once the bacteria have attached themselves to the surface of a vegetable, they become much harder to kill.”

You may read or listen to her information at the link, which I heard on her podcast.

What I'm Reading: Tender by Nigel Slater (UPDATED)

Tender: Volume I: A Cook and His Vegetable Patch by Nigel Slater

My rating: 5 of 5 stars


Nigel Slater transformed his back yard into a garden. Not a fantastic, provide everything he eats garden ... but the sort of garden that someone who doesn't mind some failure does. And, of course, someone who likes to cook and eat. So we reap the benefit of his observations about gardening overall and then specifically about all sorts of vegetables. With recipes.

I like Slater's informal style and also his honesty about personal quirks. For example, he is determined to be organic and yet frustrated by slugs. One of the most charming stories is about how he loves to see the little family of urban foxes that lives next door but is simultaneously driven crazy by the fact that he knows they will eat some of his most treasured plants when his back is turned ... and the fact that the cubs love to lie right next to the keep-foxes-away speakers he bought.

This is one of those books that I will read through in order while flipping around to find recipes for produce received in my CSA cooler (what Slater calls his "organic box"). For example, I just have to go pick up some bell peppers and then am going to roast them with the tomatoes I got ... and some anchovies ... or mozarella ... or black olives. Mmmmm ...

UPDATE
I also meant to praise the book itself. It is printed on good quality paper, with cloth binding, has a bound-in ribbon marker, and contains some of the most beautiful photography I have ever seen in a cookbook. If you have Kitchen Diaries, the photography and layout style is very similar, which makes it an aesthetic pleasure to pick up and read as well as to cook from.

Texas Enchilada Casserole

This year Rose didn't want to go out for her birthday dinner. She had just gotten home from Chicago and she wanted homestyle cooking ... Tex-Mex style. She wanted Texas Enchiladas.

For the uninitiated, that means cheese enchiladas in a red sauce with some chopped onion on top.

Once again, as so many times before, I have been making a simple, yet flavorful, version of this from one of Matt Martinez's cookbooks.

To make it even easier, I stack the enchiladas instead of rolling them. I've been told that this is how they do it in New Mexico, but we'll keep it simple and just call this a casserole.

Enchilada Sauce

Step 1:
1/4    cup lard, shortening or vegetable oil
1/4    cup flour

In a large skillet, heat lard to medium hot. Stir in flour and continue stirring until it turns a very light brown (3-4 minutes.)

Step 2:
1/2    teaspoon pepper
    1    teaspoon salt
    2    cloves minced garlic
    2    teaspoons ground cumin
    2    tablespoons chili powder
1/2    teaspoon oregano

Add all and continue to cook for 1 minute. Constantly stirring and blending ingredients.

Step 3:
    3    cups water or chicken broth

Add and stir until sauce thickens slightly, 1-2 minutes. Turn heat low and let simmer for 15-20 minutes. Add water if necessary to keep sauce very thin.

Texas Enchiladas

Step 1:
        Vegetable oil
    8    corn tortillas

Lightly brush tortillas on both sides with oil and heat briefly on a griddle until soft and flexible, stacking on a plate as you work.

Step 2:
    2    cups (8 ounces) grated mild cheddar
1/2    cup finely chopped white onions
    1    batch Enchilada Sauce, warm

Mix cheese and onions and set aside. Dip tortillas into sauce, fill with  cheese, roll tightly and arrange in an oven-proof dish. Spread remaining sauce on top and sprinkle with cheese. Bake 10-15 minutes at 350° until cheese is completely melted. Serve immediately.

Casserole: instead of filling tortillas with cheese and rolling them, just dip them in the sauce, lay down a layer across the bottom of a baking dish, and sprinkle with some of the cheese/onion mixture. Continue making the layers (3 or 4 depending on the size of the dish), topping with a sprinkling of cheese. Bake as above and cut in squares to serve.

The Amazing Chocolate Pie

For my birthday, I had a hankering for chocolate pie. Specifically, I was curious about the technique mentioned in the most recent Cooking Light which combines some melted chocolate with the chocolate crumbs for the crust.

Rose volunteered to make the pie and was astonished by how easily it went together. She and a friend had a little pie business during their freshman year of college and Rose made many a chocolate pie during that time. She says that she never had a pie recipe work so well or be so quick as this.

This was an amazing pie. A deep, rich chocolate flavor; perfect texture with no lumps; just firm enough. Truly a superior dessert experience.

We did take two liberties with the recipe. We had whole milk and so used that instead of 1% milk. And we used real whipped cream instead of fat-free Cool Whip. Also, I didn't have any raspberries. They would have looked pretty but they weren't missed.

Cooking Light named this Rich Chocolate Pudding Pie. We call it ...

The Amazing Chocolate Pie

YIELD: 10 servings (serving size: 1 pie slice, about 1 tablespoon berries, and 1 tablespoon whipped topping)
HANDS-ON: 20 MINUTES
TOTAL: 4 HOURS, 45 MINUTES

Ingredients

CRUST
30 chocolate wafers (such as Nabisco's Famous Chocolate Wafers)
3 ounces bittersweet chocolate, melted
1 tablespoon canola oil

FILLING
3/4 cup sugar
1/4 cup cornstarch
1/4 cup unsweetened cocoa
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 3/4 cups 1% low-fat milk, divided (we used whole milk)
2 large egg yolks
4 ounces bittersweet chocolate, finely chopped
1 tablespoon white rum
1/2 cup fresh raspberries
10 tablespoon fat-free frozen whipped topping, thawed (we used whipped cream*)

Preparation
1. To prepare crust, place wafers in a food processor; process until finely ground. Add 3 ounces melted chocolate and oil; process until blended. Press into bottom and up sides of a 9-inch pie plate. Freeze the 15 minutes or until set.

2. To prepare the filling, combine sugar, cornstarch, cocoa, and salt in a large saucepan; stir with a whisk. Add half of milk and 2 yolks; stir with a whisk until smooth. Stir in the remaining milk. Cook over medium heat for 5 minutes or until thick and bubbly, stirring constantly. Remove from heat. Add 4 ounces chocolate, and stir until smooth. Stir in rum. Pour filling into prepared crust. Cover with plastic wrap; chill 4 hours or until set. Serve with raspberries and whipped topping.

* To whip cream, we poured about a cup of heavy cream into a bowl, sprinkled in a spoonful or so of powdered sugar, picked up a whisk and whisked it all together briskly until the cream held its shape. Easy as ... wait for it ... pie!

When You Can't Wake Up and Smell the Coffee (Or Taste It Either): Reviewing "Season to Taste" by Molly Birnbaum

Season to Taste: How I Lost My Sense of Smell and Found My Way by Molly Birnbaum

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Having been admitted to the Amazon Vine Program I was eager to find a book to try that I would not normally come across. This one, in which Molly Birnbaum relates her loss of smell due to a head injury and intersperses her story with delving into the science of smell, filled the bill. What makes Birnbaum's loss of smell, and subsequent almost complete loss of the ability to taste, all the more painful is that she was set to go to the Culinary Institute of America to begin training as a chef. Watching her learn to deal with her unexpectedly debilitating infirmity is fascinating and is making me more aware of all the scents that make the pattern of my life.

Birnbaum is an unexpectedly good writer. Possibly because she had to focus on the visual and textural aspects of food and the world around her after losing her sense of smell, she describes her environment and experiences in a way that takes the reader into her world. This can be unexpectedly jarring when she points out aspects of scent that affect us daily in ways that we never thought about. For example, if one isn't smelling pine or mint or some other vivid fragrance, can we remember what it is like? It was rather disturbing to realize that I couldn't actually do so in the way that I can recall a flavor. These experiences enhance our appreciation for what Birnbaum and others deprived of scent go through. The science of the book was interesting and I appreciated the fact that it was interwoven with the personal story. This added gravity to Birnbaum's story and lightened the science enough to take it all in. Her quest takes her to science labs, Ben and Jerry's ice cream factory, perfume experts, and a chef who managed to keep cooking despite developing tongue cancer. One of the most fascinating sections of the book was when the author went to perfume training school in France in an attempt to give her olfactory neurons additional stimulus and herself extra training to help her recognition of scents.

My one negative feeling about the book was that Birnbaum kept on worrying about how much of her sense of smell would return, even after much of it had come back. While understandable on one hand, and probably an accurate accounting of her feelings, the overall effect was to make the book was to become tedious and whiny seeming at times.

I did wonder, as the book went on and time seemed to be passing year by year, was how Birnbaum was supporting herself. A job or two is mentioned but only ever as a method of helping to cope with or try to train her limited sense of smell. At other times, she clearly is not employed and I wondered how she was able to afford living in New York City or traveling to France to attend perfume school. It didn't detract from the story but it did occur to me forcibly from time to time.

Overall, I recommend the book to anyone who is interested in cooking, taste, perfume, and the science of scent. Oh, and an interesting story well told.

View all my reviews

The Package That Can Put a Big Smile on Your Face

That's probably only if really true if you're a certain age.

Because this is the original packaging.

But when I found it at Krogers this weekend it made me smile and not only because this is Hannah's favorite flavor which can be hard to find.

Tom, helping me unload groceries, held up the bag with a broad grin, "Hey! This is classic!"

And so it is.

Both on the inside and the outside.

Evidently these are available for a limited time. Why limited! We want them always!

Learning to Cook

This one's for Margaret who wished I would blog from the kitchen more.

I actually have a couple of little tidbits about cooking lately, but no time to commit them to pixels at the moment (no wonder this poor little place is so neglected). 

So here are a couple of cookies to tide you over till dinnertime. Enjoy!

Learning to Cook

from the comic genius that is xkcd

The Art of Eating In

Cathy Erway needed an interesting subject for the food blog she was considering beginning. She decided to give up eating out, though that would be difficult for a young twenty-something in New York City, and begin cooking her meals at home. What began as an interesting experiment became something of an obsession. As Cathy's blog, Not Eating Out In New York, grew in popularity, she threw herself into the project with an increasing passion that lasted two years.

The Art of Eating In chronicles that two year period. The book isn't composed of blog entries but is a memoir with recipes of Cathy's journey of discovering the wide world of cooking and the myriad forms it can take on in New York City. This leads to her participation in such adventures as cook-offs,  underground supper clubs, urban foraging, and joining a freegan group for some evening foraging (dumpster diving, etc.).

For our next stop on the tour, we walked a few blocks south to a small upscale grocery store. The store was closed, its dim lights exposing the aisles of gourmet food inside. The store was closed, its dim lights exposing the aisles of gourmet food inside. At the curb in front lay our target—a disheveled heap of black garbage bags.

The group began tearing into the bags with a careful, yet determined dexterity that must have come from much experience. They would feel around the outsides first, then untie the top and take a peek in. I helped open one bag, which was filled with a variety of produce. Hands reached in from all directions around me, and one by one, fruits and vegetables were removed. Finally, I stepped back and surveyed what had come out of the group of bags so far. Along the sidewalk, the group had lined up a cluster of several decent-looking apples, some with bruises here and there. Many more spotted bananas were recovered, some good-looking pears, and several tomatoes, which looked wet on their surfaces, probably from condensation and being squashed beside something else, but otherwise fine. I was amazed to see bag after bag of prewashed mixed salad greens emerge from the garbage as well. The bags were sealed shut, and through the clear plastic, the greens still looked perfectly crisp. But the telltale expiration dates on their packages were one or two days past. Chatter floated around about what to set aside for the freegan group dinner the next evening. ...

I enjoyed reading about Erway's more unconventional adventures such as the quest to find a good theme for a supper club. I found it amusing when reading about her friends' dedication to truly test menudo's fabled qualities as a hangover cure (they went out the night before and got well and truly drunk so they were hung over the next day). Erway's research into subjects like the history of restaurants seemed sound as did her other forays into discussing food history.

The personal improvement into a confident cook was less interesting because anyone who has read much food writing  has encountered this sort of story often. They generally follow the same developmental track and Erway is not unique in her story. It is not badly written; it is simply not that unusual. The story sparkles much more when reading about the investigation of the different ways New Yorkers express themselves through food (the supper clubs, foraging, etc.)

Erway also relates her personal dating life, evenings spent drinking, various hook-ups, and other such details of her life. These I could have done without. The cooking and other food related activities were plenty interesting without having to slog through the loss of her boyfriend and dating adventures. They weren't that unusual and didn't add anything to the overall story. It is too bad the editor didn't use a firmer hand in directing the book's focus. However, these are not difficult parts to skim over and the book is interesting despite them.

Note: This was a review book. I'd have said the same either way.