Showing posts with label Soups and Stews. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Soups and Stews. Show all posts

Friday, January 8, 2010

Dinner in Woodstock: A Tribute to My Grandmother

Since my subject is the old-timey menu served up today by my 98-year-old grandmother, I’m using the word “dinner” in the old-fashioned sense of the midday meal. My grandmother, Mescal Hornbeck, who will turn 99 in June, honored my visit with a highly genteel and refined luncheon with four of her closest friends, plus the fiancé of one of the ladies. The theme of the menu was food from her childhood, and so we had Oyster Stew and Indian Pudding. Those members of the party who were over 60 – three of our guests, as well as Mescal herself – recognized right away just what she was trying to do here, saying they hadn’t had either of these dishes in ages.

Grandma Mescal was born in 1911 in West Shokan, a rural outpost in upstate New York. She has lived in New York most of her life, except for a period spent in Lexington, Kentucky, for my grandfather’s career. (That’s how I come to have a family from Kentucky and a family from New York.) Bemoaning the demise of oyster stew in popularity, she says that oyster stew used to be “the big thing” served at “all the restaurants all around the country.” When I suggested that perhaps it was a northeastern thing, she said, “You wouldn’t know, you’re too young to remember.” (This is one thing I love about my grandmother, she always reminds me how young I am!)

Indian pudding, well, maybe it has a more PC name nowadays, but I’ve never tasted it before by this or any other name. It was tasty, and reminded me of my great-grandmother’s puddings I used to have as a child.

Grandma Mescal talks a lot about how different things are from when she was growing up, which is endlessly fascinating. It’s remarkable that she has such detailed memories of so many of her past experiences. She tells me that “a woman 50 years ago wouldn’t have been caught half dead” serving string beans dry scattered around on a plate and only half cooked; veggies were cooked until they were "DONE - not mushy" and served in their juices, and you often had a sauce with them, based on milk being added to the cooking juices to bring out the flavor. “A lot of things tasted better then than they do now,” according to Grandma; there’s no denying that cooking styles and tastes have changed considerably.

After dinner I served a bowl of my candied walnuts that I had made for Mescal, and her friends honored me by saying I had inherited my grandmother's love of cooking. Thank goodness for good genes.


Grandma Mescal’s Oyster Stew

Quantities are determined by the number of people dining. Start with at least 5 oysters per person (6 or 7 per person on average), and the oysters have to be FRESH! Get them shucked specially for you. Grandma thinks the ones that come pre-shucked in the market (which are much cheaper) aren’t worth spit.

Cook the oysters and their juice in the top of a hot double boiler, cooking them just until the edges get a little crinkly – not very long.

Meanwhile heat your milk – about two ladles full per person – and add a chunk of butter and some salt and pepper. For the milk you can use whole milk, two percent, half-and-half, or whatever you like.

Then pour the oysters into the milk and get it warm, but you MUST be sure you DON’T BOIL THE OYSTERS! There’s nothing worse than overcooked oysters.

That’s all there is to it!


Indian Pudding

Mix 5 Tablespoons stone-ground corn meal to 1 quart of cold milk; scald the milk, then cook in the top of a double boiler 20 minutes. Then add 2 Tablespoons of butter, 5 oz. molasses, 1 teaspoon salt, 1 teaspoon cinnamon and 2 eggs well beaten. Turn into buttered pudding dish [she used a glass loaf pan] and pour 1 cup cold milk over mixture.

Bake 1 hour in moderate 350 degree oven. Delicious served with vanilla ice cream. Servings: 8.

(The recipe called for a cup of molasses, but Mescal thought this was way too much; she used just over half a cup and it had a very nice flavor.)

Friday, September 4, 2009

Catfish Gumbo

It's okra season, and gumbo is a good way to use up this abundant vegetable. One of our neighbors keeps bringing us bags of okra from his garden, which is such a treat! What I learned, growing up in the South (first Texas and later Kentucky) is that any gumbo has to have okra in it; without okra, it's just not gumbo.

This recipe comes from The Little Gumbo Book by Gwen McKee (Quail Ridge Press, 1986), which has 27 different gumbo recipes. I've made this one twice, and it is a very reliable recipe -- meaning the end results are reliably good. The book raves about all its recipes with the same level of glowing endorsement -- i.e., "This is incredibly delicious – try it! Easy to make, incredibly delicious!" In this case, I agree.

2 lb. catfish fillets or nuggets
6 c. water
1 1/2 tsp. salt
1 stick butter
3 Tbsp. flour
1 c. chopped onion
1 c. chopped bell pepper
2 c. chopped celery
1 lb. chopped okra
1 (28-oz.) can tomatoes, chopped
1/2 tsp. K’s Cajun Seasoning (or salt, pepper, and red pepper)
1/2 tsp. thyme
1 Tbsp. chopped parsley

Cook cleaned fish in boiling, salted water till it breaks apart with a fork (only takes a few minutes). Remove fish, debone, cut in chunks, and reserve stock.

Melt butter in skillet; add flour and stir till lightly browned. Toss chopped vegetables into roux and heat sill softened, stirring often.

Mix everything together – except fish – in a pot with stock and simmer about an hour.

Add fish and simmer 30-45 minutes. Serve over rice with a sprinkle of chopped parsley. Serve gumbo filé on the side. (Filé is a powder made from ground sassafras leaves, and has a delicate flavor; it also thickens the gumbo.)

Serves 8.

Friday, January 23, 2009

Hot and Sour Soup with Asparagus and Wild Mushrooms

This recipe comes from Hugh Carpenter, a professional chef who specializes in Asian fusion cuisine; I took a class from him in Santa Monica a long time ago. He used to own a chain of dim sum restaurants in Los Angeles; I used to go to one in West Hollywood, back when Melrose Avenue was really hot.

This recipe is virtually foolproof; the only potential problem is overcooking the asparagus, which is why I tell you to add the asparagus at the very end of the cooking time. The other vegetables aren't as delicate, but of course you can add them gradually according to the required cooking time (carrots first, etc.).

1 small bunch asparagus, diagonally cut
4 oz. shitake mushrooms, stemmed and slivered
1/2 box bean curd (use very firm)
1 cup slivered carrots
1/2 cup slivered green onions
1 boneless chicken breast, skinned
6 cups chicken broth (of course, homemade chicken stock gives the best results)
2 eggs
2 Tbsp. cornstarch

Seasoning Mix

6 Tbsp. vinegar (white, red wine, or cider vinegar)
2 Tbsp. dry sherry
1 Tbsp. heavy soy sauce
1 Tbsp. toasted sesame oil
1 tsp. finely ground white pepper
1 tsp. salt
1/2 tsp. Chinese chili sauce

Advance Preparation

Prepare asparagus, mushrooms, bean curd, carrots, green onion. Cut chicken breast into very thin spoon-sized pieces; marinate it with some sesame oil for a couple minutes so it doesn’t stick together. Set aside broth, eggs and cornstarch. In small bowl, combine Seasoning Mix.

Last-Minute Cooking

Bring broth to low boil. Add chicken and give soup a vigorous stir to separate the meat. Add vegetables [except asparagus] and seasoning mix. Combine cornstarch with equal amount cold water. Bring soup to low boil and stir in the cornstarch mixture. Beat eggs well. Bring soup back to very low boil. Add 2 Tbsp. soup to eggs, then slowly pour eggs into soup while beating soup with a fork where the eggs hit the hot broth. [Add asparagus for the last few minutes of cooking.] Remove from heat and adjust for salt, spiciness and tartness. The soup can be made several hours in advance and just reheated. Turn into soup tureen or individual bowls. Serve at once.

Serves 4 as the main entrée, or 6 to 8 as the soup course.

Other possible additions: bean sprouts, red cabbage, bamboo shoots, peas

Friday, January 9, 2009

Middle Eastern Chard and Lentil Soup

I know there are lots of lentil soup recipes out there, but this one is outstanding. The broth comes out incredibly rich, it must be from sauteeing the greens and garlic separately. This recipe comes from Paula Wolfert’s Mediterranean Greens and Grains, and was sent to us by my cousin L. as part of our wedding gift, which included a large clay cazuela and other cooking implements and ingredients. It has become one of the mainstays of our family menu for the past 5 years. Wolfert claims the recipe is from Syria.

Makes 10 cups, serving 8.

Wolfert writes:

"Here’s a light soup for all seasons: in summer serve it cool or at room temperature to refresh; in winter serve it hot to nourish. It’s delicious with grilled bread topped with crushed oily black olives and sprinkled with oregano."

"This soup is even better when you add another green to the chard. In early spring I combine chard and dandelions; in summer, chard and arugula; in winter, chard and spinach."

"Use any lentil you like. For me the most savory is the small Spanish pardina lentil available through Phipps Ranch (by mail order) or the small brown lentils available at Middle Eastern and Indian groceries. "

[Note: I almost always use chard and kale in combination, and I never serve it cool or room temperature. I always use the miniature green lentils from France, which are available at Clover's. EH]

"A potato, cut paper thin so it will dissolve, is cooked along with the lentils to thicken the soup and give it a rich creamy texture."

1 c. dark mini-lentils such as Spanish pardina or Egyptian, Ethiopian, or Indian whole masoor dal
1 tsp. salt
2 quarts light chicken stock (optional) [or vegetable broth, of course; my favorite is the "No-Chicken" broth. EH]
1 medium potato, peeled and sliced paper thin
1 c. chopped onion
3 Tbsp. olive oil
8 large Swiss chard leaves
1 lb. leafy greens such as spinach, dandelions, arugula, watercress, beet greens, kale or a mixture
1/4 c. roughly chopped fresh cilantro leaves
1 Tbsp. minced garlic
1/3 c. freshly squeezed lemon juice

1. Wash and pick over lentils. Place lentils in a saucepan and cover with the stock or 2 quarts water salted with 1 tsp. salt. Bring to a boil and skim off any foam that surfaces. Add the potato, partially cover, and cook for 20 minutes.

2. In a large skillet, slowly brown the onion in the olive oil. Meanwhile, wash, stem, and roughly shred the greens. You should have about 1 packed quart. Add the cilantro and garlic to the skillet and sauté for a minute or two, then stir in the greens and allow them to wilt, covered. Scrape the contents of the skillet, including the oil, into the saucepan and continue cooking another 20 minutes, or until thick and soupy. Stir in the lemon juice and serve hot, lukewarm, or cool.

[Note: I have made this without the potato, and even without the cilantro when necessary; but the lemon juice is crucial! EH]