Strawberry-Rhubarb Puff: A Reminder About Altering Recipes All You Want

It's time for our semi-regular reminder about how most recipes are more about method and less about specific implementations. The Betty Crocker's Outdoor Cook Book has more than its fair share of brand-specific recipes, and relies a bit more on canned/tinned/processed foods than modern sensibilities tend to allow (in public, at least -- in private, even Chefly Husband eats ravioli right out of the can sometimes).

Thing is, all the glorious 1960s short cuts? Can be slowed down. And, really, if you're picnicking, sometimes it's all about reclaiming an older, slower, simpler something.

Strawberry-Rhubarb Puff
Ideal to carry to picnic site and reheat.

1 pkg. (16 oz.) frozen rhubarb, thawed
1 pkg. (10 oz.) frozen strawberries, thawed
1/2 cup sugar
1 can Betty Crocker Bisquick Refrigerated Biscuits
1/4 cup butter
1/4 cup sugar
1 tsp. cinnamon

Heat oven to 375°F (quick mod.). Mix rhubarb, strawberries, and 1/2 cup sugar in sq. pan, 9x9x1 3/4". Cook 5 min. over medium low heat. Place biscuits on top of hot fruit. Make hole in each biscuit and put a little butter and mixture of sugar and cinnamon in each hole. Bake 25 to 30 min. Cool. Cover top of pan with aluminum foil; place pan on outdoor grill. Heat until aluminum foil feels hot. Uncover and serve with cream or whipped cream, if desired. 8 to 10 servings.

Let's give a bit of thanks that the temperature is given in degrees, and not just with the guidance of "quick moderate." Even "hot" and "very hot" temperatures vary depending on who's judging. I trust that it's good to know how long one can put one's hand in an oven of a certain temperature, but as I don't cook in a wood stove, and don't intent to, I'm happy with °F.

I've not seen refrigerated Bisquick biscuits before. If you want to be a recipe purist, your best bet is going to be "can o' biscuits" -- choose your favorite brand.

If we're slowing down this recipe, though, how's about making your own biscuit dough? Use your favorite recipe that makes 8 or so big biscuits. No need to worry about cutting the dough into rounds; you can cobble the top with little bits of dough you tear off.

Did I say "cobble"? Well, sure. The recipe may say "puff," and I'm not going to say the dough won't puff, but it's a cobbler. Cobble away.

Other ways to slow this down: don't use packaged frozen fruit. Go to the store. Rhubarb's in right now, as are strawberries. Get a pound of one, and a pint or quart of the other, and slice up into nice even-ish chunks. If there's no rhubarb, you can choose some other fruit. Or, if you're not a strawberry person, how's about some nectarines, or blueberries?

I'm not opposed to frozen fruit. I have lots in my freezer right now. But it takes only a smidge longer to use in season fruit and feel a touch more connected.

Stuffed Acorn Squash, or Every Vegetable Is Even Better With Butter And Sugar

Barbequeing isn't all about the dead beasties. Sometimes, you need something more vegetal. Betty Crocker's Outdoor Cook Book gives several options, including this recipe that makes me think of Halloween and Thanksgiving more than Memorial Day or the Fourth of July.

Stuffed Acorn Squash
Apple and brown sugar caramelize as squash bakes. Good with pork or baked turkey, as pictured on pages 34-35.

Select 3 medium acorn squash. Cut into halves; remove seeds. Place each half on a double thickness of heavy-duty aluminum foil. Put 1 tsp. butter and 2 tbsp. brown sugar in each half, add mixture of 3/4 cup chopped apple and 2 tsp. chopped walnuts. Dot with 2 tsp. butter and wrap securely in foil. Barbecue on briquets 40 to 50 min., or on grill about 1 hr., turning once. Squash is done when it feels soft when touched with an asbestos-gloved thumb. 6 servings.

Please tell me you're not actually having an asbestos-anythinged anything in or near your food. Use a heat-proof glove. It could be an Ove' Glove or something your great-aunt crocheted for you, as long as it's thick enough to keep you from burning yourself and, oh, yes, not carcinogenic.

I know that I said that barbeques weren't all about the dead beasties, but you know how we are around here at Take One Cookbook... we love the dead beasties, and really think that this would be even better with a good crumble over of crisp bacon. If you're not adverse to pork products (yummy, yummy pork products), I highly suggest crisping some up and adding it in here.

Butter and brown sugar and orange squooshy vegetable goodness reminds me of candied yams. This makes me want to add mini marshmallows to the squash.

Yes, even with the bacon.

Ooo.

Especially with the bacon.

I was going to prattle on about the fact that there's no list of ingredients for this recipe, but then I got distracted by the spelling of "barbecue." I nearly typed "misspelling" there, because to me, "barbecue" is spelled "barbeque." A little Googling shows me, though, that I have evidently embraced a "popular spelling variant." I say, it's abbreviated "BBQ" not "BBC," so I'm sticking to my popular variant.

I'll save the BBC for my Doctor Who needs.

Gender at the Grill: Rumaki on the Hibachi

I'm pretty much assuming that anyone reading a rather-colloquial English-language blog in 2011 knows what a barbeque is, and doesn't need a history lesson about the word's French roots or a detailed description of what a kettle grill is. Betty Crocker's Outdoor Cook Book makes no such assumptions, coming as it does from that time before blogs and ubiquitous suburban Webers.

The barbecue at home is the aristocrat of outdoor meals. though its mood is informal, food often is as sophisticated and service is as elegant as in a dining room--but much less trouble if plans are carefully made.

This is where women, experienced in the day-to-day organizing of menus and meals, shine. They know the importance of the complete shopping list; of cleaning, or peeling, or otherwise preparing vegetables in advance; of having tools sharp and handy; and of not asking one burner or one oven to produce a whole meal at the same time. There is plenty for everyone to do before and during a big cookout. Most women I know are quite content to concentrate on advance preparations and the duties of a hostess, and leave the more dazzling duties over that hot bed of coals to the males.

...I don't quite know where to begin with this pretty little insight into women's happy role of prep cook. No, really, I don't, because as much as I like to rail against outdated sexist gender role expectations, I have to admit: when it comes time to slap the meat on the grill, I'm usually handing the tongs off to Chefly Husband. So, boo on the gender role expectation that I fully embrace in real life!

If there's a broiler around, though, I'll reclaim the same dishes that otherwise I'd get all Donna Reed-y about outside.

Rumaki on the Hibachi
A delectable do-it-yourself chicken liver appetizer for guests to prepare while host or hostess finishes dinner preparation. Pictured on page 139.

6 chicken livers
6 strips of bacon
water chestnuts
brown sugar

Cut chicken livers in half; slice water chestnuts (about 3 slices per nut). Marinate in Teriyaki Sauce (p. 94) for 4 hr. Drain; cut 6 bacon strips in half. Wrap chicken liver pieces and water chestnut in bacon strip. Fasten with toothpick and roll in brown sugar. Arrange appetizers on hibachi over hot coals. Grill until bacon and liver are tender, 15 to 20 min. Turn often. Makes 12.

Variation: Appetizers may also be baked in the oven. Place on a wire rack over a shallow roasting pan. Bake at 400° (mod. hot) 20 min., or until bacon is crisp. Turn occasionally for even browning.

I remember the first time I had rumaki. It was in a tiny rowhouse on Capitol Hill, in a teeny kitchen that, frankly, looked a bit scary. But my friend Nancy was working magic with water chestnuts and teriyaki sauce, and bacon. Bacon! She popped her liver-less rumaki under the broiler and I was hooked. So tasty. So salty. So sweet. So crunchy.

I like chicken liver, but have never had rumaki with chicken livers. I did find out that some of our good friends are chicken liver fans--Chefly Husband was talking about making a strawberry risotto with grilled chicken livers, and they swooned--so maybe this recipe will come out and play soon.

7 Rules for Grilling: Controlling Kibitzers & Fire

While I love the recipes in old cookbooks, I really love the non-recipe content. Odd illustrations, weird apostrophes (figure of speech, there, not punctuation) (though there's strange punctuation, too), and tons of tables, tips, and rules to keep you from killing yourself or others in your quest for keeping folk fed.

It's 95°F here in Washington, DC today, so there's no way in heck I'll be standing over a fire. So, it's virtual barbeque time for me. The steak on coals method isn't for me, but Betty Crocker's Outdoor Cook Book has lots of other tidbits to try, and tons of info to help you along the way. This afternoon, let's look into Betty Crocker's fire rules, kicking off with one of Tom Funk's illustrations -- he doesn't exactly put the funk in funky, but his midcentury drawings appeal.

The basic rules for fire building and control that follow will give you a fast start in the right direction, but only by firsthand experience does anyone develop that second sense that tells the expert how to make the outdoor grill produce reliable results.

Rule One: Before you light your fire, collect or have easily at hand all of the fuel you expect to use--and a little more!

Rule Two: Once your pilot fire is kindled and burning well, add as readily as possible all of the rest of the fuel so that it can burn down all at once to an even bed of coals.

Rule Three: Use a little more fuel than actually necessary. Nothing is a wider open invitation to trouble than a fire that is too small.

Rule Four: When necessary to add fuel to a well-established fire--as it sometimes is during a long cooking period--add it at the edges and rake it in when well kindled. Never put the fresh fuel in the center as this reduces heat rapidly.

Rule Five:Allow plenty of time for the fire to reach its proper cooking heat. Half an hour is the minimum for charcoal briquets, and 45 minutes to an hour is safer.

Rule Six: Once your fire is well under way, disturb it as little as possible. Constant poking and raking breaks up pockets of heat and lowers temperature.

Rule Seven: Develop some stern method of kibitzer control. People who would not dream of regulating your kitchen oven seem unable to resist "helping" the oudoor chef by stirring up his fire. They mean well. Indeed, such activity usually shows the first gleam of determination to try outdoor cooking for themselves. But threaten them off with the tongs, if necessary. two firemasters is one too many.

So, the first four rules are Do This; Seriously, Do This; No, Really, Do This; So You Didn't Do What We Told You To....Here's How To Fix. Then, two rules covering Leave Well Enough Alone, Already.

I don't know that I've ever had a small fire be a wide open invitation to trouble before. Large fires, sure. There was a fire pit in Northern Ireland, and that was a wide open invitation to some contemplation. Well, for me, contemplation. For Alex, a teen pilgrim and firebug, I suppose a small fire is in fact a wide open invitation to, if not trouble, at least to a bigger fire.



Here at Take One Cookbook... we like to think thoughts of peace and not of affliction, so I would like you to disregard Betty Crocker's advise to threaten people with tongs. It's not very civil. Plus, you use those tongs on food -- don't muck 'em up on overly eager "firemasters."

Steak on the Coals; Meat Marinade: Impressing At The Grill

Happy Memorial Day, folks. We had a huge, beautiful meal of pork with cabbage & white beans last night, followed by strawberry shortcake (the strawberries were macerated with sugar, fig balsamic, and fresh thyme), so we've no immediate grilling plans for today, but my mind goes to the grill nonetheless.

I like cooking over a grill. Anything tastes better after some time above the coals. Betty Crocker's Outdoor Cook Book challenges my belief, though, and suggests "above" isn't the way to go.

Steak on the Coals
This method startles those who see it for the first time, but it draws ecstatic praise from those who like an emphatic grilled flavor.

Use a large piece of lean, tender steak, such as sirloin, weighing at least 3 lb., 1 1/2 to 2" thick. Place steak in baking pan and cover with Meat Marinade (recipe below). Refrigerate 3 hr. Turn meat occasionally to thoroughly over with marinade. Drain steak and allow to come to room temperature.

Have a bed of white-hot charcoal briquets about 3" deep. A shallow layer of coals will not serve. Remove the grill. Place the meat directly on the fiery coals. Turn every 10 min. to another white-hot area. Allow 12 to 15 min. per side for the center to become
rare, hot, and juicy. Allow 1/2 to 3/4 lb. per serving. Makes 6 servings.

Ooo, a bonus recipe!

Meat Marinade: Combine in bowl 1/2 cup vinegar; 1/2 cup vegetable oil; 1 small onion, minced; 1 tsp. salt; 1 tsp. dry mustard; 1/4 tsp. each mace, nutmeg, and cloves; 1 clove garlic, crushed; and 1/2 tsp. Tabasco. Pour over meat. Serve meat with remaining hot marinade.

Before we go any further, let's point out one important thing: you can not serve that leftover marinade unless you cook it. Cook it. Yes. Cook it. I've nothing against a good steak tartare, but I value your health and don't want you slopping raw meat juice over your Flintstones-esque slab o' meat. Food safety: It's not just for 4H geeks.

It's for 4H geeks, too -- just not ONLY for 4H geeks. (Go, 4H!)

I have no doubt that this method of steak cookery will yield a cooked piece of meat. I do, however, doubt that this is the best way to treat your 3 pounds of sirloin. The very phrase "emphatic grilled flavor" sends shivers of horror down my spine. In fact, according to my handy dandy Google-fu, I find that there's only one place "emphatic grilled flavor" comes up in this world of ours, and it's right here, in this recipe, in this cookbook. When phrases occur only once? I think it's because they shouldn't occur again... Ban the "emphatic grilled flavor"! Embrace some frickin' subtlety!

And yet... it does have a primitive sort of allure...

Here's my final take on this: If you have absolute faith in your cooking fuel, and know for a fact that there aren't weird waxes and chemicals and flammable liquids going on, then fine. Try this. But if you're using briquets and a can of fire starter and God knows what else, put some distance between the unknown and your beef.

Betty Crocker's Outdoor Cook Book; Good 'N Easy Potato Salad

It's Memorial Day Weekend, and with Memorial Day Weekend comes summer, gatherings with friends, picnics, barbeques, and all sorts of outdoorsy goodness. That, plus Chefly Husband's newly-started blog (Mastering Wine) has inspired me to grab a cookbook, dream of dishes fascinating and horrifying, and type away.

Welcoming us back into the fold is Betty Crocker's Outdoor Cook Book, illustrated by Tom Funk, © 1961 by General Mills, Inc. This is a great hard cover, spiral bound gem with two-color silly illustrations and four-color glossy pictures of stylish 60s folk, cooking outside. There is a facsimile edition available, but my copy is first edition.

I knew I wanted the first recipe up to be a potato salad recipe, as potato salad and Memorial Day just go together for me. But... which one? Potato Salad, Good 'N Easy Potato Salad, or Potato Salad For A Crowd? Chefly Husband suggested "whichever one doesn't have yellow mustard, because yellow mustard is disgusting."

He has many fine qualities.

And I like yellow mustard.

But I'm leaning towards "disgusting" anyway.

Good 'N Easy Potato Salad

1 pkg. Betty Crocker Scalloped Potatoes
3 cups water
2 tbsp. butter
2/3 cup water
1/4 cup mayonnaise
1 tsp. prepared mustard
2 hard-cooked eggs, chopped

Empty potatoes into saucepan. Add 3 cups water. Bring to boil. Reduce heat and simmer until tender, about 15 min. Rinse with cold water; drain throughly. Put in bowl, cover, and chill. Melt butter. Blend in contents of seasoning pkg. Add 2/3 cup water all at once. Heat over medium heat until mixture boils, stirring constantly. cover and chill. (Lumps are onion pieces.) When cold, blend mayonnaise and mustard into sauce. Fold into potatoes and eggs. 4 servings.

Any time a recipe has to tell you that what you're looking at is intentional and vaguely vegetal, back away slowly...

This may well taste very good. Lord knows I'm not opposed to cooking shortcuts. But if you're going to take the time to hard-cook eggs (and, let's take a moment for three cheers, for Betty Crocker calls 'em as they are: hard cooked, not hard boiled), then you can take the time to boil your own potatoes. Heck, you can boil them in the same pot as your eggs. One pot! One boil! Then you'd be able to identify your own lumps.

As for the mustard issue -- yes, I use yellow prepared mustard in my potato salad. You can use your favorite mustard, be it Dijon or brown or horseradishy, but to be truly 1960s vintage scary, use the yellow mustard, and the boxed potatoes.

If nothing else, file this one away for your next Mad Men theme party. Betty Draper would have had this cookbook.

Plan For Future Happiness: Tutti-Frutti

I've been gorging myself on berries lately; 'tis the season, after all. Blueberries with breakfast. Blackberries with lunch. And while I'd love to tell you about how you can set up jar after jar of preserved summer splendor, let's face it: I live in a tiny 1937 apartment, I have no storage space for such bounty, and my stove top lacks the oomph needed to efficiently get a big kettle of water boiling sufficiently to make preserving jams and jellies and whatnot a pleasant experience. Also, unless you've gone out and picked your own fruit, odds are you don't naturally have enough fruit on hand at any given point to do a proper day of canning. Favorite Recipes from Matinicus Island Maine has the solution for you: preserve the fruit you get as you get it, in a crock, no fuss, no muss.

Tutti-Fruitt

Put 1 pint brandy into a stone jar, add various fruits as they come into market. To each quart of fruit add same quantity of sugar, stir mixture each morning until all fruit has been added. Strawberries, raspberries, apricots, peaches, cherries, pineapple are the best to use.

-- Mrs. Day's Mother's

Aaaaah, tutti-frutti. All fruits. Let's get this out of the way: Yes, you can purchase the fruit especially for this.

You can also use this as a way to keep the fruit that you bought too much of at the store that day you swore you were going to drop thirteen pounds before your high school reunion.

Strawberries should be washed and hulled; you needn't slice them up. Raspberries should be washed. Halve your apricots and take the stones out; you don't need to skin them. Peaches, on the other hand, you'll need to peel (it's not as hard as it seems, but it does involve a big pot of boiling water and a big bowl of ice water; ask if you have questions). Cherries should be washed, stemmed, and pitted. Pineapple should be purchased already cored and peeled.

Okay, the last one was a joke. Though I won't mind if you do buy it pre-prepared. But you can honestly do it yourself.

You can use other berries (blue, black), or other stone fruits (plums, plums, plums) (and nectarines). Use the juicy soft fruit that you have on hand.

All that stuff is easy. The stone jar might be a bit more difficult. If you're lucky, you'll have a big 5 gallon pickling crock at hand. I have one, and yes, you may be jealous. My mother-in-law gave it to me. Okay, she might have given it to us, but I've thoroughly claimed it. To do this recipe up right, you're going to need at least a 3 gallon non-reactive container. You also have to be able to disinfect the hell out of that beastie; fermentation is our friend here, but mold is definitely not. You're also going to want to keep this puppy in the dark, and keep it covered; bugs and vermin are also not our friends.

When is it ready? Well, one could argue that it's always pretty much ready. But if you want to make it extra super duper special, keep it fermenting away until Christmas time. Yes. Really. Even if you started it with the very first strawberries of March. December. And wouldn't you appreciate a taste of spring and summer in the bleak mid-winter?

Now, you might be asking yourself how to serve your tutti-frutti. Try it over ice cream. Try it under whipped cream. Try it whooshed up a bit in a blender with some cream cheese and yogurt to make a dip for gingersnaps. Try it on pancakes or pound cake or chocolate cake. Try it in a cake -- perhaps we can scrounge up a good old fashioned tutti frutti cake recipe from someone's grandma in one of these books.

When the fruit's all gone (or even before), use the syrupy liquid as, well, syrup. Your waffles will thank you.

Matinicus Islanders Don't Need Instructions: Grapenut Puddings

Today, two recipes, one key ingredient, and not a lot of instructions to get in the way. The Ladies Aid really do expect you to know what the hell you're doing in a kitchen... many of the recipes in Favorite Recipes from Matinicus Island Maine have only the vaguest sketches of a method to guide you.

Baked Grapenut Pudding

4 eggs
1 quart milk
1 cup grapenuts
1 cup sugar or sweeten to taste
Pinch of salt
1 teaspoon vanilla

Bake like custard in moderate oven. Test as for custard. Serve with whipped cream.

--Carrie Ames

Got that? Good. That's all you're getting out of Carrie Ames. So, if you're not up for doing anything "like custard," hop on over to What's Cooking America to read up on Old-Fashioned Baked Custard. If you've ever made a creme brulee, you've made a baked custard. Is the recipe a bit less scary if I say "Bake like a creme brulee"? We're a long way from Matinicus in the 60s.

If the whole custard/creme thing is making you shy away from the potential wonder of baked cereal desserts, try this:

Grapenut Pudding

Put 1/2 cup minute tapioca in 3 cups cold water. Cook until clear. Then add:

1/2 cup grapenuts
3/4 cup brown sugar
1/2 cup raisins or dates
1/2 cup walnuts

Cook a few miutes -- Cool and serve with whipped cream.

This recipe isn't attributed to any particular Matinicus Ladies Aid member. Is it because the author knew her Grape-Nut pudding to be less decadent, less tasty than Carrie Ames's? Did they have a bet, and she who won a Grape-Nut Pudding Off got to have the glory?

Grape-Nuts was my favorite cereal when I was a kid. Yes, really. I love the sweet malty goodness of it. I love when the crispiness starts giving way to soggy soggy bliss. I love it hot. I love it cold. I love thinking of it as a big "screw you" to Kellogg and his comparatively insipid corn flakes. I think it's kind of cool that the ladies of Matinicus treat Grape-Nuts as a generic ingredient. I know the good people at Post cereals probably wouldn't share that glee, so be sure that you always respect brand trademarks.

Unless you're quoting a cookbook, of course.

Substitution Time: Joe Bunkers or Brambles

When I was a wee tyke, and my mom would make pie, my sister and I got to have the crust scraps. Sprinkled with cinnamon sugar, baked up, tasty as all heckfire. So, when I saw the recipe for Joe Bunkers or Brambles in Favorite Recipes from Matinicus Island Maine I knew it had to be featured here. I don't know if the name options are "Joe Bunkers" and "Brambles" or "Joe Bunkers" and "Joe Brambles." I'm going to be a rebel and say that you can call 'em any of the three, or even call 'em "Joes." Substitute the name you prefer. Substitution is going to be key for this recipe.

Joe Bunkers or Brambles

Make rich pie crust. Roll thin. Cut in large squares. In center of each square put in a spoonful of filling.

Filling
2 eggs
1 cup sugar
Juice and grated rind of 1 lemon
1 cup chopped raisins
5 or 6 Royal lunch crackers, rolled fine (If too moist take more crackers.)

Fold corners of square up to filling. 400° oven -- Bake until lightly brown.

--Carrie Ames

Now, you should know, there's no such cracker as a Royal lunch cracker anymore. They aren't being made anymore, and the first choice substitute is also not being made anymore. You can try your hand at making your own milk lunch cracker or buy the next best to the next best thing: the Vermont common cracker.

I'm here to tell you: the Vermont common cracker has next to no flavor. If this is what milk lunch crackers tasted like, I'm not at all surprised they're off the shelves. I had assumed that the crackers were a local type of Ritz cracker. I thought the recipe was for a sort of mini Mock Apple Pie. I'm a big fan of Mock Apple Pie, and a big fan of mini whatnots.

My advice: unless you're from New England, and have been raised to love (or even tolerate) the incredibly bland blandness of a common cracker, boldly substitute. Boldly substitute! Do the recipe as written, but crush up a bunch of Ritz crackers. Bring their buttery goodness to your Joes party.

Not the New Fashion: Old Fashion Pork Cake

I'm hard-pressed to come up with a suitable introduction to today's recipe from Favorite Recipes from Matinicus Island Maine. It's a war-time cake, though would work for any time the cows aren't giving milk or the ferry isn't bringing dairy goods over to your island. Other recipes for cakes like this include dried fruit...you may do so if you wish. In this case, I back down off my "raisins aren't optional" stance.

Old Fashion Pork Cake

2 cups molasses
2 cups salt pork, cut fine
2 cups boiling water, turn over pork
2 cups brown sugar
2 teaspoons soda
2 teaspoons cassia
2 teaspoons cloves
2 teaspoons allspice
2 teaspoons nutmeg
2 teaspoons ginger
3 eggs
8 cups flour

Makes 4 loaves, bake 1 hour, not too hot an oven.

--Mrs. Raynes

Yes. Pork cake. Pork. Cake.

I think one of the reasons this is of the old fashion is the amount of ingredients. See that nice long list of twos? Easier to remember a recipe if you can just say 2, 2, 2, 2, 2; 1/4s and 1/3s and 1/8s and whatnot are much more fussy. I'd be willing to hazard a guess that it was originally two eggs, too; the third egg will make the cake rise a bit more, though, so stick to it.

With this entry, I'm going back and editing the publishing date for Favorite Recipes from Matinicus Island Maine from 1970s to 1960s. See, I found Verna Ames who gave us the Tomato Soup Cake recipe--I love the internet. She wrote back and said that she remembered the book being from the 1960s, and I trust her memory.

Glory, Glory, Halleluia: Glorified Apple Pie

It's a hot, sunny fourth of July here in Washington, DC. Chefly Husband and I took our dog down to the Palisades parade, bought lemonade from a lemonade stand, ate sausages off the grill, and shouted "votes for candy" at more than one passing politician. Yes, it's a right proper Independence Day! In light of that, we'll take a slice of Americana from Favorite Recipes from Matinicus Island Maine-- apple pie.

Glorified Apple Pie

Prepare McIntosh apples as for regular apple pie, and place on bottom crust. Mix 3/4 sugar and 1 package of strawberry jello. Add this to apples, put on top crust and bake as usual. Wonderful served with ice cream.

--Adella Ames

Baseball, hot dogs, apple pie, and Chevrolet, folks.

Adella Ames (yes, another Ames...the same surnames repeat throughout the cookbook. It's a small island, after all.) assumes you have a usual way of making an apple pie. I assume nothing of the sort.

You need pie crust enough for a bottom crust and a top crust. Use your favorite pie crust recipe; of course, if you have a favorite pie crust recipe, you probably don't need to be told how to make a pie. So, you know, feel free to use the pre-made crust in the refrigerator section of your local grocery store. I won't tell, and as long as you use the fridged stuff and not the frozen stuff, odds are no one will really notice you didn't make it yourself. Line your pie plate/tin with one of the crusts, and then put it in the fridge to stay nice and cold.

Next, take a big ol' mixing bowl, and put it near your apple peeling and chopping station. Don't have one? Of course you do. Any cutting board will do, and I'd recommend using a vegetable peeler to peel your apples, but if you want to pare your apples with a paring knife, more power to you. Extra style points if you get the peel off in one long spiral (though, again, if you're that practiced, you're probably not in need of a walk through of pie making). You'll need about 8 apples. Peel 'em, cut 'em into quarters, and cut away the seeds and core. The seeds and core go in your compost bin or trash bin, not the pie.

Use your handy dandy paring knife and cut the apple quarters into bite-sized chunks, and put the chunks in the bowl. Sprinkle on 1/4 teaspoon nutmeg, and 1/2 teaspoon cinnamon. Sprinkle over that a couple tablespoons of flour -- the flour will help the pie set up, though I'm guessing that with the Jell-o, you're not going to really need it. I often forget it; it will still taste good. Squeeze in about half a lemon worth of lemon juice. Mix it all up, take the pie plate out of the fridge, and pour the apple mixture out into the crust, mounding it up in the middle if you have extra. Take a tablespoon or so of butter, and cut it into little chunks, and put those chunks sort of randomly over the apples. That's called dotting with butter. Now you know. At this point, you've prepared a pie "as usual," and can pick up with the instructions from Adella.

The top crust will need to be vented -- you need to make vents in it to let out the steam of the apples cooking. You can get all sorts of fancy, cutting out shapes, making a lattice out of strips of pastry, or whatnot, but for your first pie, I'd say just cut a few slits in the crust with your paring knife. Lay the top crust over the apples, and seal the edges of the two crusts together, either with your fingers or the tines of a fork (pressing down with the flat bit). A 350°F oven is your friend, and cook until your crust is pretty and brown and there's appley goodness coming out a bit.

Now you, too, have a usual apple pie method. You'll get fancier as you go, with the aforementioned crust treatments, egg washes, crumble topping, mixed fruits, etc., but this gets you going.

Happy Independence Day.

Favorite Recipes from Matinicus Island Maine, by the Matinicus Ladies Aid Society; Tomato Soup Cake

I love The Wine Lover's Cookbook but have to admit that after a week of glossy pictures, perfect binding, and lengthy descriptions of every little thing, I'm psyched to go a little more rustic. So, it is with more than a little bit of glee that I present Favorite Recipes from Matinicus Island Maine by the Matinicus Ladies Aid Society.

Matinicus Island is a small island off the coast of Maine, about the size of Rathlin Island in Northern Ireland -- the comparison might not mean much to you, but I had a heck of a wonderful day tromping about Rathlyn last summer. Anywho.

I've never been to Matinicus Island (or any other part of Maine), so have to assume that my friend Jeannette's grandparents went there at some point. I owe much of my cookbook collection to Jeannette's grandmother's pre-move book culling. Many of those books are comb- or spiral-bound fundraiser fodder, and old enough that the regional books still have some regional flair. Too often nowadays, collections from all over are woefully homogenized. Not so with Favorite Recipes from Matinicus Island Maine -- the recipes use both local ingredients and, vital for a remote island, canned goods. Yes, canned goods. Nothing wrong with a canned good or three! And, if you're on an island in New England during a winter storm, when boats aren't going out and ferries aren't coming in, what the heck else are you supposed to use to feed your family. Canned goods, for the win.

Tomato Soup Cake

8 tablespoons shortening
2 cups sugar
2 teaspoons soda
4 cups flour
1/2 teaspoon salt
2 teaspoons cinnamon
2 teaspoons soda
2 teaspoons cloves
2 teaspoons nutmeg
1 can tomato soup
1 can water
2 cups seedless raisins and fruit

Cream shortening and sugar; then add soup and soda; then add the water gradually. Bake 1 hour in 350° oven. I use the candied can fruit.

--Verna Ames

We're back in the land of assuming you know how to cook, folks. If you're used to making cakes, you don't need step by step here, just the skeleton to show how and when you're adding the liquid to the mix. I'll step by step it a bit more for you:

Cream the shortening and sugar together in a big mixing bowl. Add the soup and the 2 teaspoons of baking soda -- though the recipe as printed calls for a total of 4 teaspoons soda, we're pretty safe in guessing it's just a misprint. The soup and baking soda are standing in for eggs in this recipe, so they go in when eggs would go in otherwise. Have you stirred in the soup yet? Stir, baby, stir. Then, add the water, and stir some more. Sift all dry ingredients together, and then add the dry mixture to the sugar/soup mixture, but not all at once. Add in a quarter of the dry, stir. Add another quarter, stir. You get the gist. Once that's all come together, add the fruit and stir some more. Ta da! Cake batter. Pour that into a prepared cake pan -- butter and flour it, or spray it with baking spray. Size of pan we'll have to guess at: I say try it in a 9 x 13, but that surprises you not in the least.

I think it bears saying it in its own paragraph: the soda in the ingredients list is baking soda. It is a dry ingredient, and is added with the liquids, not sifted in with the other dry ingredients (unless the aforementioned typo wasn't actually a typo -- if your cake comes out a little flat, add the extra soda to the dry ingredients next time). Baking soda, not club soda. All clear? Good.

This recipe is vegan-friendly, as long as you're grabbing a vegan-friendly tomato soup. No, really! Vegan cake! That will taste good! That you can serve to your vegan friends and make them feel pampered and loved, and you'll still want to eat it, too! If you're in/from the US, you might want to try this out for your Independence Day party this weekend.

It Had To Happen: Tart Burgundy Gelatin Salad

I hail with joy -- for I am a temperance man and a friend of temperance -- I hail with joy the efforts that are being made to raise wine in this country. I believe that when you have everywhere cheap, pure unadulterated wine, you will no longer have need for either prohibitory or license laws.
-- Louis Agassiz, American naturalist

I'm not quite sure why more wine would be a good thing for a temperance movement, but I'm all for cheap, pure unadulterated wine bring tidings of joy. Adventures in Wine Cookery has two pages of nothing but toasts and wine quotations, which is why every post this week has started off with a quote of the day.

Take One Cookbook... has been going for over a month now, and there hasn't yet been a recipe for the cornerstone of any 1920s-1970s community cookbook. It had to happen some day; that day is today. Today, I give you: a gelatin salad.

Tart Burgundy Gelatin Salad

(6-8 servings)
Mrs. William V. Cruess, University of California, Department of Food Science & Technology, Berkeley

1 (No. 1) can shredded beets
1/2 cup California Burgundy, Claret, or other red table wine
1 (3-oz.) package lemon-flavored gelatin
1 cup grapefruit juice
1 clove garlic, crushed
1 teaspoon horseradish
1/4 teaspoon salt

Drain beets, reserving 1/2 cup liquid. Combine beet liquid and wine; heat to boiling. Add gelatin; stir until dissolved. Add grapefruit juice, garlic, horseradish and salt. Chill until slightly set; fold in beets. Chill until set.

Wine Dressing: Combine 1 cup bottled mayonnaise dressing with 1/2 cup California Burgundy or Claret. Makes about 1 1/2 cups.

Note: This refreshing and easy salad would be very attractive made in individual molds, with a topping of the Wine Dressing, though plain mayonnaise or sour cream might be used if desired. Any left-over Wine Dressing would be delicious over a plain fruit salad. Wine accompanying the menu would depend on the main course -- probably a red table wine, if a hearty meat dish is served.

Yes. It's a Jell-O salad. Like I said, it had to happen. There will be more to come, oh, yes, mostly because I'm utterly fascinated by the molded salads of yore.

What's a No. 1 can mean? Think "Campbell's Condensed Soup" size. And, though it doesn't specify, I'd say you're safest using grated horseradish, not creamed. If you're looking for a specific grape for your red table wine, try a light/cheap Pinot Noir.

I did a little research on Mrs. William V. Cruess. Of course, the first rush of information was all about her husband, Mr. William V. Cruess. He was a leading food scientist whose accomplishments include promoting flash freezing to preserve fruits, and, yes, inventing the fruit cocktail. (I've never put Wine Dressing or plain mayonnaise on fruit cocktail, but I have to bet that Mrs. Cruess at least tried it.)

But what of his wife? His obituary mentions her warmly: "In 1917 he married his charming and devoted wife Marie Gleason Cruess, his constant companion and true helpmate for the rest of his life."

Okay, that melts me more than a little. "Constant companion and true helpmate."

Turns out that Marie Gleason Cruess was an artist. She painted landscapes, and had a few exhibitions. She and her husband were married for over fifty years.

I'd have thought a beet/pinot/grapefruit/lemon/horseradish/gelatin/mayo salad wouldn't contribute to marital harmony. I'm glad to be wrong. ... though part of me feels like writing a story wherein they thrive in spite of such dishes.

Hoppety: Frog Legs In Wine

Wine rejoices the heart of man, and joy is the mother of all virtue.
-- J. W. Goethe

One more froggy recipe from Adventures in Wine Cookery

Frog Legs in Wine

(4 servings)
Mrs. Alvin Ehrhardt, United Vintners' Community Wineries, Lodi

12 pairs frog legs (small)
2 tablespoons butter
2 tablespoons flour
1/2 cup California white table wine
2 tablespoons minced watercress
2 tablespoons minced scallions
Salt
Freshly ground pepper
1 egg yolk
1 tablespoon cold water
Cayenne

Soak frog legs in cold water for 3 hours; drain on cloth. Melt butter in top pan of chafing dish over medium flame. Add frog legs; sauté 3 minutes on each side. Sprinkle with flour, mixing constantly. Add wine, watercress and scallions; season with salt and pepper. Simmer 15 minutes. Remove frog legs to a warm platter. Whip egg yolk with cold water. Spoon a bit of wine mixture into egg and beat well. Remove wine mixture from heat; add egg mixture and stir well. Return pan over flame. Stir sauce constantly until thickened to desired consistency. Pour over frog legs and sprinkle with cayenne.

My choice of wine to accompany this dish: California Chablis or Dry Sauterne, Chilled

So, what do you do if you don't have frozen froggie legs, or your legs are small instead of large? Use this recipe instead of the previous one! Nothing out there in 'net-land on Mrs. Alvin Ehrhardt, and precious little just on United Vintners... once you take into account their take-over by Allied Grape Growers, though, you can find out a lot. For example, did you know that 1968 was the last year in the wine industry in which the sales of Dessert Wine exceeded the sales of Table Wine? So, Adventures in Wine Cookery is sort of a harbinger of the future of California wine... far more time is spent on table wine recipes than dessert wine recipes. And yet, it's also the end of an era for some. United Vintners was sold in 1969.

I've never had frog legs. Doc Hopper would be ashamed.

Hippety: Frog Legs Pinot Blanc

I drink to the general joy of the whole table.
-- William Shakespeare

As promised, today we'll have two, two, two posts from Adventures in Wine Cookery. Moreover, we'll have a Theme Ingredient... Frog Legs!

Frog Legs Pinot Blanc

Norbert C. Mirassou, Mirassou Vineyards, San Jose

As far as we know, this is an original recipe.

1/4 cup butter
1 teaspoon minced garlic
4 pairs frozen frog legs (large)
1/2 cup chopped parsley
1 cup California Pinot BLanc or other white table wine

Preheat electric skillet to 320°; add butter and garlic. When butter is melted, add frog legs. Cover and cook at 320° with vent open for 10 minutes. Sprinkle parsley over frog legs; add wine. Recover pan, with vent closed, and lower heat to 280°; cook until tender, about 15 to 20 minutes. Place frog legs in serving dish and pour over remaining pan juices. Serve with rice, squash cooked with mushrooms and tomatoes, and heart of lettuce salad.

My choice of wine to accompany this dish: California Pinot Blanc

Mirassou claims to have the oldest wine family in California, dating back to 1854. Norbert and his brother Edmund ran the winery together several generations in, and "Mr. Norb" is credited with developing the first overhead sprinklers for vine irrigation. Why was that extra super duper important? Well, seems that if you wanted to grow vines in Monterrey, you needed better irrigation, and you really, really wanted to be able to grow vines in Monterrey, because Monterrey was Phylloxera-free.

Thank you, Mr. Norb! Also, thanks for championing Pinot Blanc, in this recipe and in the state. I really recommend following the link to the oral history I linked to above; after the obituaries for both brothers, there's a transcript of an interview with them, talking about their lives, work, etc. I can't even begin to sum it all up for you (beyond, "mmm, wine!"). One thing that stands out for me: talking about when "the market broke." Not "crashed"...broke. Also, ever wonder how delicate produce got from California to New York in the 20s? You can find out...

Wine Country Soap Opera; "For Leg Of Lamb"...

Wine can clear
The vapors of despair,
And make us light as air.
-- John Gay: "The Beggar's Opera"

There's not a lot of context given for the recipes in Adventures in Wine Cookery. But, oh, if you go hunting, you find all sorts of soap opera!

FOR LEG OF LAMB that is just a bit different, and easy to do, Mrs. Robert Mondavi, Charles Krug Winery, St. Helena, suggests this interesting treatment: Cover leg of lamb with California red table wine; add 1 onion (sliced), 2 cloves garlic (halved) and 2 bay leaves. Marinate several hours. Drain, reserving marinade. Sprinkle lamb with salt and freshly ground pepper. Place bacon strips over lamb. Roast in moderately-slow oven (325°) about 30 to 35 minutes per pound, basting with reserved marinade.

VARIATION: Make slits in meat; insert rosemary and garlic. Sprinkle with salt and pepper; top with strips of salt pork. Roast (as above), basting with California white table wine.

At first blush, I don't see anything "interesting" in this treatment; that's pretty much the way I was taught to cook a pork roast. Tasty, sure, and nice to show that you can do it with white wine or red wine, and needn't get too fussy about amounts of anything used, but nothing much there except name recognition for the contributor.

That's where the fun comes in. Mrs. Robert Mondavi... the first Mrs. Robert Mondavi. This book came out two years before Mr. Mondavi would meet the second Mrs. Mondavi... whom he wouldn't marry until the 80s, right after divorcing our Mrs. Mondavi. (ooooo!)

I wondered why a Mondavi was working at Krug... a little Google-fu filled me in on the fact that the Mondavis (Robert, along with Dad and brother) bought Krug, and it was under that name they started making their own wine. Not very soapy, that, except for the whole Glamorous California Lifestyle setting. But, oh! Ever so shortly after this book gets published.... scandal! Arguments! Dissolution! Robert fights with his brother and storms off to start his own winery (and wine empire). (oooooo!)

It's easy to find little stories about many of the contributors to Adventures in Wine Cookery; it makes me wonder what stories there are behind the contributions to all the small community cookbooks I've got on the shelves. What tart swooped in on someone else's husband (and made a mean layered salad)? What tomato was known for more than just her generous wassail bowl?

And how many food words are also pejorative slang for loose women?

Breakfast With The Winemakers: Sunday Morning Sausage

If food is the body of good living, wine is its soul.
-- Clifton Fadiman

Let's start by stating our position on Sauternes one more time: Sauternes is for sipping, beautifully, in a glass, with maybe some seared fois gras on toast points or a heavenly blue cheese, or some pears on the side. We do not, normally speaking, think it should be used in cooking, because, well, it's too damned tasty on its own.

We'll make an exception for today's recipe from Adventures in Wine Cookery, as it calls for so very little, leaving plenty more to drink after.

Sunday Morning Sausage

David E. Gallo, E. & J. Gallo Windery, Modesto

This recipe is a Gallo family favorite for Sunday morning brunch.

4 lbs. pork loin (boned, medium fat)
1 tablespoon fennel seed
1 teaspoon crushed dry hot red chili pepper
Salt and pepper
1/4 cup California Sauterne

Coarsely grind pork loin. Season with fennel, chili pepper, and liberal amounts salt and pepper. Add wine; mix thoroughly. Cover and let stand at room temperature 1 hour. Pack in foil, rolled tightly like a casing. Store in refrigerator 12 hours. When ready to cook, form sausage into patties and fry over low heat. Baste with Sauterne during last 5 minutes of cooking. Serve piping hot.

My choice of wine to accompany this dish: California Rhine Wine.

See? It's not all about the little women writing in with their recipes, sometimes the kids do, too! David Gallo was the son of Ernest Gallo and Amelia Franzia. You remember Amelia... she was the Franzia who married into the Gallo family and brought screwcaps to the Franzia line as a result.

This sounds like a completely tasty breakfast sausage. I like that it's veering to the spicy instead of the sweet, and let's be completely honest: This makes me want to have biscuits and gravy.

The "California Rhine" young Mr. Gallo recommends is going to be mostly Riesling, and very light in body. Right now, Chefly Husband and I are on a 2003 Alsatian and German Riesling kick -- if you can find a bottle, give it a try.

Say It Five Times Fast: Nutty Cheese Ball Cucamonga

Where there is no wine, there is no love.
-- Euripides

There are far too few crazy recipe titles in Adventures in Wine Cookery. No, this is a Serious Cookbook, and has Serious Titles, that are Entirely Descriptive And Not At All Fun.

Well, except this one:

Nutty Cheese Ball Cucamonga

(Makes 1 ball, 1 1/2-lb. size)
Mrs. Frank Pilone, Cucamonga Vineyard Company, Cucamonga

4 ounces blue cheese
6 ounces Cheddar cheese, grated
4 (3-oz.) packages cream cheese
1 tablespoon grated onion
1 teaspoon chopped parsley
1/2 teaspoon Worcestershire sauce
3/4 cup finely chopped nuts
1/4 cup California Sherry

Soften cheese to room temperature. Combine cheeses with onion, parsley, Worcestershire sauce, 1/2 cup of the nuts and Sherry. Shape into ball. (If too soft to shape, chill a while.) Roll in remaining 1/4 cup nuts. Chill. Remove from refrigerator about 1/2 hour before serving. Serve with any favorite crackers, letting guests spread their own.

My choice of wine to accompany this dish: California Sherry or Champagne

NOTE: Chopped pecans are particularly fine for this, although walnuts, almonds or other nuts are also good. Slightly toasting the nuts first brings out the flavor and helps keep them crisp.

Okay, so the recipe itself doesn't sound anywhere near crazy; the title carries all the crazy for this dish. And, I suppose, if you're from Cucamonga, it doesn't seem crazy to call a dish Something Something Cucamonga, any more than Walla Walla, Washingtonians would think it weird to call something Something Something Walla Walla. Some things are funny only if you're not there...

A little Google-fu, and I learned that Cucamonga Vineyard Company was a part of Padre Vineyard Company, an old and storied vineyard. Fabulous, legendary wines.... a long time ago, and then a decline and bankruptcy and they are no more.

Frank Pilone was the winemaker for Padre/Cucamonga, no mention on Google about his wife who contributed the Nutty Cheese Ball Cucamonga. If she recommends sherry and bubbly for the dish, you might remember her for being loyal to her husband's work: though they did produce still table wines, they were known for their sparkling wine, and to a lesser degree, their dessert and aperitif contributions.

The semantics geek in me quibbles a bit with the inclusion of this recipe in Adventures in Wine Cookery -- there's no application of heat here. It may be an adventure in wine usage and assembly, or adventure in wine mixing and stirring, but "cookery"?

Adventures in Wine Cookery, by California Winemakers; Mulled Sauterne Cup

In water one sees one's own face; but in wine, one beholds the heart of another....
--French Proverb

Adventures in Wine Cookery by California Winemakers, collected and published by the Wine Advisory Board in 1965, came to me through my friend Jeannette's grandmother. Actually, she gave me two copies of the book; the second has long since been passed on to a friend. Mrs. MacCutcheon (grandma in question) received the book from her son, Lloyd, and his wife, Barbara (Jeannette's parents), for Christmas that same year; part of the gift tag is still attached to the title page. Tucked into the book is this note:

I haven't tried too many of these but watch out for the amount of wine. 1/2 of the required is plenty.

Barb

Now, I have nothing but respect for Jeannette's mother in almost every thing in life, but I must warn you: Do not heed Barbara on this! We are not here to be stingy with wine. Indeed, Take One Cookbook... encourages wine cookery whenever possible, and wine consumption, too. Just a half hour ago, Chefly Husband opened up a 1998 Châteauneuf-du-Pape, and I can't wait to give it a slow and loving sip as soon as it has had a chance to breathe. Back to the book...

The Wine Advisory Board in San Francisco gathered recipes from "winemakers, their wives, families and colleagues," including "professors and other staff members of the Department of Viticulture (grape growing) and Enology (winemaking) and the Department of Food Science and Technology of the University of California." Oh, and the folks at Fresno State. Part of the fun in some of these recipes is the name recognition: who's wife contributed, who's son contributed, who was at one vineyard then yet owns his own now...

And, as is true for almost any cookbook, some of the fun comes from well-meaning horror.

Mulled Sauterne Cup

(About 10 servings, 3-oz. size)
Mrs. Frank Franzia, Franzia Brothers Winery, Ripon

1 (6-oz.) can frozen pineapple juice concentrate
3/4 cup California Sauterne or other white table wine
2 1/2 cups water
1/8 teaspoon ground cloves
1/8 teaspoon ground allspice
Dash of salt
1 tablespoon sugar
Combine all ingredients. Heat slowly to just below boiling. Serve hot in preheated cups.

NOTE: Hot wine drinks are becoming more and more popular for all cold weather occasions. This one is different, and good.

I love mulled wine, so thought this might be a good choice. I mentioned it to Chefly Husband who gasped in the horror mentioned above. "Why? WHY??? It's SAUTERNES! Just SIP it!"

Point taken.

Perhaps we should expect such blasphemous usage from the makers of boxed chillable red: Franzia. But, no! The boxed wine came after the family sold the rights to the name, and started Bronco Wine Company. So, Franzia wasn't the cheap lowbrow butt of humor back then... at least not for using boxes; they did, however, use screw caps instead of corks. And why? Because a Franzia sister married into the Gallo family! The Franzia family history is well worth a read, and the next time you buy Two Buck Chuck (or, heck, Four Buck...) at Trader Joe's, remember: You've a Franzia to thank.

We're going to have fun learning about midcentury American wine making this week.

Cooking the Books: Popovers for Piglet

This is what happens when popovers don't pop over. Epic failure.

I'm at a loss. This recipe has never failed me. Ever. My chefly husband tried to console me with a well-meant, "Popovers are notoriously difficult!" Yes, well, this recipe has never, ever failed.

Lessons learned: I may well have figured out how to bake in my tiny tiny half-sized oven, but the tricks needed can't be used on popovers. Anything that requires me to not open the door for 25 minutes is just going to bomb.

:sigh:

I was really looking forward to the popovers. Not only for beautiful blog fodder and a great wrap up to The Pooh Cook Book, but because I was craving them. For breakfast.

:sigh:

Trust me: it does work, this recipe. But you need enough room in the oven for good air circulation. And it wouldn't hurt to have a window on your oven door.

Chefly Husband says that, since the only leavening agent is the eggs, the oven must have been too cold. Since the bottoms are burned, I'm thinking that, in theory, the oven temp was just fine...until the pans went in and blocked all circulation. So, hot on the bottom, cold on the top, not good for popovers.

When I try it again -- and I will -- I'll either cook 'em one pan at a time, or try stacking them... it is entirely possible, however, that my oven is not meant for popovers.