Questionably Elegant Hostess Gifts; Cuban Diplomatic Bread Pudding

Today's recipe from Hunger No More: Food & Fellowship from the Episcopal Diocese of Washington is a great Washington sort of recipe. It didn't originate here, and it is all about places that you've probably never been, yet it wraps the familiar and mundane in so that it seems all sorts of...normal. Nothing could be more normal and dull than canned fruit cocktail, right?

Cuban Diplomatic Bread Pudding
International: Cuban

1/2 loaf of fresh Ciabatta bread (any bread without a hard crust), cut into small pieces
2 cups sugar
2 cups milk
4 Tbsp butter
4 eggs
2 Tbsp Grand Marnier
1/4 tsp ground cinnamon
1 pinch nutmeg
1 tsp vanilla extract
1/2 tsp almond extract
1/4 tsp of salt
1 cup canned fruit cocktail, drained

Preheat oven to 350F. Caramelize 1 cup of sugar in a shallow 9 inch square baking pan. Tip pan to cover sides, until sugar turns light amber brown. Do not let the sugar foam.

Pre-soak the bread slices in milk. Puree in blender and reserve. Combine the eggs, Grand Marnier, cinnamon, nutmeg, vanilla, almond extract, and salt. Puree in blender and reserve. Pulse 1 cup of sugar with butter in the blender, and combine with egg mixture and puree. Combine with bread and milk mixture.

Put the fruit cocktail in the caramelized baking pan. Pour the batter in the pan. Place the pan in a large glass pan (Pyrex), pour hot water in the large glass pan halfway up the sides of the baking pan. (I prefer a large glass pan as you can monitor the water level from the oven door.) Place the pan in the oven, and bake the pudding for approximately 2 hours. Do not allow the water level to reach the bottom of the pan. You can tell it's done when a knife inserted in the center comes out clean.

Remove the pudding from the oven and allow it to cool on a wire rack. Turn the cooled pudding upside down onto a serving plate and refrigerate before serving.

Serves 10.

This recipe goes along with one of my favorite stories my grandmother used to tell when she made it. In her days in Cuba, a can of fruit cocktail was the most elegant hostess gift; not available in Cuba, it meant you had American connections. This dessert has become my father-in-law's favorite.

Ivonne Burgess
Christ Church, Durham

I'll admit it: I question the elegance of a can of fruit cocktail as a hostess gift. Though, hey, there have been times in my life where a can of Spaghettios would have been seen as a very clever and thoughtful gift indeed... I'll ponder this further.

I love a good bread pudding. They're highly adaptable creatures, and I'd be tempted when tinkering with this dish to do away with the water bath. Yes, yes, it makes the custard set up all smooth and perfect, but we threw caution to the wind over Thanksgiving and did cheesecakes sans water baths, and I'm feeling like tweaking the cooking gods' noses again. Nerds to the water bath!

Consider switching up the fruit here, unless you're making it for an elderly Cuban expat who will recall the fruit cocktail elegance with fondness. I'm thinking that a can of cling peaches would be good here. I imagine it would work with any canned-in-syrup fruit.

Christ Church makes St. Alban's look like a toddler. It was founded in 1661. Not a typo. It came in to being when Charles II was king in England. That, friends, is a very long time ago.

Regionals: Duck's Stuffed Ham

Sometimes, I love having this blog. Turns out, the compiler of the Bachman Family Cookbook found this here blog, and commented. So, now I've met a cousin of some stripe (if we share a great grandparent as our closest common ancestor, we're, what...second cousins?), who works with the county museum back in North Dakota. There's tons of family stuff for me to rifle through, and it's a great feeling. It's not every day one learns more about one's great grandparents, ya know?

Today's Hunger No More: Food & Fellowship from the Episcopal Diocese of Washington recipe was a quick substitute. Originally, I was going to post Southern Maryland Stuffed Ham recipe, because there's a good bit of history included, but I just couldn't bring myself to write about people owning other people tonight. So, suffice to say, there's hundreds of years of history going on with this dish, and more than a little baggage going along with it.

Duck's Stuffed Ham

12 lb corned ham
3 lbs watercress
2 lbs kale
1 small head cabbage
4 onions
4 hard boiled eggs
salt to taste
black pepper to taste
red pepper to taste

Have the butcher debone ham and tie. Slit pockets in ham to hold stuffing, about 1 inch apart. Grind watercress, kale, cabbage, onions, and eggs together (a food processor makes this easy). Season stuffing to taste with salt, black pepper, and red pepper. Stuff into slits, pack them full. Put any leftover stuffing on top of ham. Sew into an old pillowcase or wrap with cheesecloth. Place in a kettle of cold water to cover. Bring to a boil and simmer 22 minutes per pound (a 12 pound ham takes 4 1/2 hours). Cool in liquid. When cool, remove and drain, then refrigerate.

This recipe is best prepared a day and a half ahead. This recipe was given to Lucille by her dear friend, "Duck" Shelton, who is now deceased. It was her mother's recipe.

Lucille Dyson
Recipes compiled by Episcopal Church Women
Christ Church, Port Tobacco

I can't say I've ever run across a recipe that called for stitching anything into a pillow case before. The other stuffed ham recipe sticks to cheesecloth, but as that one calls for a 20 pound ham, it's possible that there just weren't old pillowcases big enough.

Great Closing: Book Group Apple Cake

Today's recipe from Hunger No More: Food & Fellowship from the Episcopal Diocese of Washington is actually from my own church! St. Alban's has been serving DC as a free church for 157 years. (What's a free church, you may ask? Well, back in the day, most churches charged pew rent; St. Alban's never did, by design.)

There's a book group at St. A.'s, and, like book groups the world over, it's at least partially fueled by food.

Book Group Apple Cake

3 large apples, roughly diced
2 cups sugar (I mix white and brown)
1/2 cup vegetable oil
1 cup raisins (soaked in brandy is nice, for adults)
1/2 cup chopped, pecans (optional)
2 eggs, beaten
2 tsp vanilla
2 cups unbleached flour (replace 1/4 with wheat germ for added nutrition)
2 tsp baking soda
2 tsp cinnamon
a few shakes of ground cloves
1 tsp salt

Mix chopped apples with sugars, then add oil, raisins and/or nuts, eggs and vanilla. Mix dry ingredients together and stir into moist mixture. Bake in a 9 inch square pan (or a tube pan) at 350F for one hour, or until done (test with a toothpick). Serves 12.

So named because our parish book group urged its inclusion in the cookbook. We don't know if the cake keeps well, since there's never any left.

Joyce Walker
St. Alban's, DC

To be honest, it's not the St. Alban's connection that made me include this recipe. No, it's the last sentence, the epic closing, that promise of cake so wonderful you'll never have a crumb left.

I dig a recipe with a promise.

I'll wager it keeps well -- so much of the cake is sugar and apples, it's just bound to be moist as all get out.

This week's daily reminder: you can order your own copy of Hunger No More and support feeding ministries in the DC area.

Father John's Christmas Biscotti

Usually, in a church cookbook, the recipes are from the laity. Hunger No More: Food & Fellowship from the Episcopal Diocese of Washington has its fair share of church lady (and church gent) contributions, but also a few gems from the clergy.

Father John's Christmas Biscotti

1/2 cup butter, softened
1 1/2 cup sugar
4 large eggs
1 1/2 tsp grated lemon rind
1/2 tsp vanilla extract
5 cups all-purpose flour
2 tsp baking soda
1 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp kosher salt
1 cup dried cranberries
1 cup shelled (unsalted) pistachios

Preheat the oven to 325F. Beat the butter at medium speed with a mixer or by hand until creamy. Gradually add sugar, beating well. Add eggs one at a time, beating after each addition. Add lemon rind and vanilla extract, mixing well. Combine flour, baking soda, baking powder, and salt (unless the pistachios are already salted) then add the dry mixture to the butter mixture. Beat just enough until the dry ingredients are moistened. Turn the dough on a lightly floured surfave and with floured hands mix in the dried cranberries and the pistachios.

Divide the dough in half or in quarters. Shape each portion into a log and place the logs on lightly greased baking sheets. Slightly flatten the logs and leave room for them to expand. Bake at 325F for 30 to 35 minutes, until golden brown. Let cool for 5 minutes then transfer the baked logs to a wire rack to cool completely.

Using a good serrated knife, with a gentle sawing motion, cut the logs diagonally into thin slices. Place the slices on ungreased baking sheets and bake for 10 minutes at 325F. Turn each slice over and bake the other side for 10 minutes. Makes 48.

Between parts, the dough or baked logs may be put in the refrigerator overnight. Any dried berries or nuts may be substituted. The biscotti keep well and may be frozen. Depending on the size of logs and slices, yield is 3 dozen to 5 dozen.

Many a sermon has been written over the years between the various steps of biscotti-baking. This recipe was a marked improvement over an earlier version that involved green food coloring, yileding a chartreuse and unappetizing cookie that looked like something out of Dr. Seuss. Sometimes packaged as "Father Beddingfield's Twice-Baked Biscuits," this and similar recipes have come in handy for church bazaars and fund raisers, not to mention pastoral calls.

John Beddingfield
All Souls, DC

So, the "Father John" part of the recipe is pretty clear -- this is Father John Beddingfield's recipe. The "biscotti" part is also straightforward -- the twice-baked cookie is a biscotti, plain and simple.

The "Christmas" part is a bit more suited for interpretation. Biscotti are a good addition to your Christmas cookie tray, to be sure. Nuts have long been a part of Christmasy food traditions, too. But I like to think it's the no-longer-a-part-of-the-recipe green food coloring that made this recipe a Christmas biscotti.

All Souls is tucked next to the National Zoo on Cathedral Avenue. It's one of 88 churches in the Episcopal Diocese of Washington, and, I'm kind of embarrassed to say it, but I don't think I've ever laid eyes on it. Why embarrassed? Well, it's all of two miles from my home, and you'd think I'd have noticed a pretty stone church near one of my favorite places in the town I've lived in for twenty one years. You'd think.

But no.

Remember: you can still order Hunger No More: Food & Fellowship from the Episcopal Diocese of Washington and help fund feeding ministries in the Washington, DC area.

Hunger No More, by the Episcopal Diocese of Washington; Homemade Egg Noodles

Today at St. Alban's, we had an Alternative Gift Fair to kick of Advent. One of the tables was for the diocese's hunger fund, which gets money out to feeding programs across the Washington area. I snatched up two copies, because, well, I loves me a church cookbook, and I also contributed a ton of recipes.

Hunger No More: Food & Fellowship from the Episcopal Diocese of Washington was edited by Kimberly Bujak, Lucy Chumbley, and Ann V. Talty, and came out just last month (October 2011). They call it "a cookbook that celebrates food, fellowship and the spirit of friendship and community that abides in the Diocese of Washington."

There's still time to order one if you're looking for a Christmas gift for your favorite cookbook lover--the books are $20 each, $12 of which is tax deductible.

Now, it's the week after Thanksgiving, and you might be in need of some leftovers help. If you've a mind to make turkey noodle casserole, why not try your hand at making your own noodles?

Homemade Egg Noodles

1 egg
cream
salt
flour

This recipe is over 100 years old and was told to me years ago in Colorado by my grandmother. First, you crack an egg into a medium-sized mixing bowl, saving half the egg shell. Measure cream into the saved half-shell and add the cream to the egg in the mixing bowl. Add a pinch of salt and stir with a fork. Add flour and stir until the dough forms a ball, then turn out onto a floured surface.

Roll out the dough to desired thickness and cut into strips. Grandmother used a sharp knife for this and I use a pizza cutting wheel. The raw noodles can be dried for a couple of hours at this point, but it's not absolutely necessary. Grandmother hung the raw noodles to dry on clean tea towels on the backs of her kitchen chairs.

Place the noodles into your pot of chicken soup and let them simmer for half an hour or more before serving. The flour on the noodles thickens the soup nicely.

Donna Courtney
St. Dunstan's

For your casserole needs, you'll want to be cooking these up on their own, not as part of soup. Though, heck, you can cook them in stock--extra flavor is a good thing. I wouldn't go a half hour of cooking time, though. You'll want to test for doneness often, as you don't want them falling to mush in the casserole dish.

A lot of the recipes in Hunger No More have little snippets of stories included, sharing how the dishes show up in the contributors' lives. I don't think I'll be typing out the 4 page recipe for sourdough bread, but knowing that it exists makes me happy -- I like a conversational tone in recipes.

Mother's Fruit Cake: Boozeless (Mostly) Fruit Cake

I love a good fruit cake. I even like a mediocre fruit cake. The fact that so many people mock fruit cake makes me sad, mostly because I really would love to start getting fruit cakes as gifts again as folks did in days of whatnot. We've already covered one fruit cake option (Brandied Fruitcake Drops) here, but Presbyterian Palate Pleasers gives us a proper, mostly-full-on recipe.

Mother's Fruit Cake

1 lb. brown sugar
6 eggs
1/2 lb. butter
1-1/2 lb. flour (6 c.)
1/2 tsp. cloves
1/2 tsp. nutmeg
3 tsp. baking powder
1/2 c. milk
1 c. wine
1 lb. currants
1 c. black walnuts
1 lb. raisins
1/2 lb. dates
1/4 lb. citron
1 lb. English Walnuts
1/4 lb. cherries
1/2 lb. figs
1/4 lb. lemon peel
1/4 lb. orange peel
1 c. flour to dredge fruit

Mix ingredients. Grease and flour one large tube pan and one 9x3" loaf pan. Fill each pan 2/3 full and bake at 275° until a toothpick inserted in center comes out clean. Serves about 25. Old recipe.

Anne Hinkle

Oh, Anne. We had such high hopes, seeing as how your churchly volunteering led you to take a bartending course. One cup of wine hardly seems properly boozy for such a lot of cake. Especially seeing as how the wine is baked with the cake, and so much of the alcohol goes away.

To fix this, I'd suggest basting the finished cake in rum, and then soaking cheesecloth in rum and wrapping the cake up with the cheesecloth and basting it every few days/weeks for a good long time.

My mother, however, prefers her fruitcake boozeless. No, really. She has many other fine qualities, I assure you.

Though the recipe doesn't specify, I'm betting all the fruit in this recipe should be dried and/or candied/glaceed. The cloves should be ground. The nuts can be swapped with other nuts if you're anti-walnut. The wine can be whatever you have -- knowing that it will lend color to the cake if you use red wine. I'd go for a sherry, or a tawny port, likely.

My favorite thing about this recipe has got to be the fact that there are two cake pans in use here. One gives you a big, pretty, take-it-to-the-church-pot-luck sort of cake. The other one is what you keep for yourself, to nibble on next to a cup of tea or a glass of sherry or port.

Ham Loaf, Redux: Presbyterian Ham Loaf

It's been a while since we contemplated on how fun it is to say "Sheboygan." Presbyterian Palate Pleasers has brought it back for me, for, lo, there's a ham loaf. Not Ethel Holbrook's Ham Loaf, but the less-eponymous more-institutional Presbyterian Ham Loaf.

Presbyterian Ham Loaf

1 lb. ground ham
1 lb. ground pork
1 c. bread crumbs
1 c. milk
2 eggs, slightly beaten

Thoroughly combine all ingredients. Shape into a loaf by packing mixture into a 5"x10" loaf pan. Then, invert on a shallow baking pan. Score loaf with a knife. Boil ingredients below into a syrup to make the following:

Brown Sugar Glaze:
3/4 c. brown sugar
1/4 c. water
1/4 c. vinegar
2 tsp. dry mustard

Spread loaf with glaze and bake at 350° for 1-1/2 hours. (This loaf will burn easily. Do NOT bake longer than 2 hours.) Baste frequently while baking.

Variations:
To form loaf, use 1-1/2 lbs. of ground pork, 1 lb. of ground smoked ham and salt and pepper to taste. Double the glaze recipe ingredients and substitute 1/2 c. pineapple juice for the water.

To form loaf, reduce breadcrumbs to 1/2 c., leave out the milk, and add 1/3 c. Ketchup, drop of Worcestershire sauce and 2 Tbsp. dry mustard.

Optional Glaze:
Make a mixture of brown sugar, mustard and sweet pickle juice.

Zoe Bowen
Claudia Strite
Anne Hinkle

Claudia's back! Zoe is harder to pin down -- who knew there'd be so many Zoe Bowens out there? -- but Anne Hinkle proves to be an easy find.

Anne Hinkle, 90, makes volunteering her full-time job.

She moved to Washington County in 1938 and has volunteered "since the first Sunday I was in church," she said.

She served as a deacon and an elder and worked with the Sunday school for her Presbyterian church, she said.

Her volunteer efforts recently prompted Hinkle to take a bartending class.

Oh, she seems like our kind of people! I'm hoping she's the one who added the optional glaze with the pickle juice.

But I promised a head-to-head of a sort. First off, and this wigs me out a bit, Ethel uses ground beef in her ham loaf.

Beef is not ham.

Beef is a good and tasty thing, but it's not a pork product.

I'm anti-loaf pan for my own meatloaves (meatloafs?), and while I respect the Presbyterians for not baking their meat in the loaf pan I must wonder at why they use a loaf pan in the first place.

Gentle readers, you do not need a loaf pan to help you shape your loaf. Use your hands. Mound it up in a pleasing loafy shape. Go to town with it. You don't need to dirty yet another pan.

Ethel's glaze is going to be less sweet than the Presbyterians'. I grew up glazing ham and Spam (yes, Spam -- I love it. No shame!) with brown sugar dissolved in white vinegar, so I lean towards thinking Hagerstown has it all over Sheboygan.

Except Sheboygan is more fun to say.

Savory Snacks: Bacon & Cheese Paste, and Scotch Eggs

Presbyterian Palate Pleasers's second recipe sealed the deal on this twelve-and-a-half cent purchase.

C.&.B.'s (Sandwich Filling)

1-1/2 lb. cheddar cheese
2 to 3 slices bacon (uncooked)
1 small onion
Green pepper (as desired)

Place all ingredients into a food grinder and mix well. To serve, spread on slices of party rye or English muffin and place under broiler to toast. Serve warm. Mixture may be kepet in refrigerator in a tight container for a week or two. The above amounts may be varied according to personal taste.

Marie Lockwood

It's bacon paste. Bacon & cheddar paste. You take raw bacon, and you grind it up with cheese, and you call it macaroni. (No, you don't. You call it "C & B.") Me, though, I'm calling it bacon paste.

And there's nothing at all wrong with that.

Okay, there's one thing wrong with this -- odds are, it looks like other processed cheese products one might have in one's fridge, but THIS one has raw pork fat in it. So, put a little warning on your crock of cheesy bacon paste, so that no one confuses Ms. Lockwood's masterpiece with some port wine cheese spread.

There is nothing about that recipe that wouldn't make me want to buy this cookbook. But, just turn the page, and there's another classic savory snack recipe!

Scotch Eggs

4 hard-boiled eggs, cooled and shelled.
Roll lightly in flour.
1 beaten egg with little milk for dipping in before coating.
Fine bread crumbs
8-oz. sausage meat, with herbs added, if desired.
Deep-fat or oil to fry.

Divide sausage into 4 equal parts and smooth over eggs. (Try to cover egg all around.) Coat these with egg and milk mixture and roll firmly in bread crumbs. Deep fry and drain on paper. Remember, the sausage must cook through, so don't rush the frying process. Serve hot or cold. May be cut in half or in large slices. Excellent as an appetizer or on a picnic. This recipe was received from Jenny Cannon, who is from England.

Carol Alphin

First, I must say, the typesetter left out the period after "Fine bread crumbs," not me. Diligently capturing typos makes me twitch.

Now, I love me some Scotch eggs. They remind me of Chefly Husband, who has made them for children's menus and called them "dinosaur eggs." They remind me of the Maryland Renaissance Festival, where, I swear, a day without a Scotch egg is as close to a sad day as one can have at the RennFest.

A bit of hyperbole goes a long way on a blog. The statement above is not hyperbole.

I think it's sweet that Ms. Alphin doesn't claim the recipe as her own, but rather credits a Brit. Does it add authenticity to the Scotch-ness of the recipe?

Ms. Alphin's from the great Pacific Northwest, originally -- even went to Pacific Lutheran College. I don't know what brought her out to Hagerstown, but in Hagerstown she was and in Hagerstown she is. My crazy little brain likes to make up stories to fill in the details and connections, so in that c.l.b., somehow this recipe for Scotch eggs is what inspired the RennFest to have Scotch eggs, and...

It's not at all a likely scenario. But it stars yummy, savory snacks.

PUNCH!!!! No, Seriously. Punch. With Actual Booze.

Presbyterian Palate Pleasers has a metric buttload of punches.

Well... it SAYS it does. It has shockingly few punches with any punch. Thank God the Presbyterians give us at least one punch with some booze in it.

Punch

1 qt. ginger ale
1 can Hawaiian Punch
1 box frozen strawberries
Whiskey (optional)
1 pt. orange sherbet
1 pt. pineapple sherbet

Mix all of the above ingredients, add ice cubes to make cold. Foat orange and lemon slices on top. Serves 12 to 15.

Joyce Stephens

Bless Ms. Stephens's heart, but...no.

First off, for a proper punch, the booze is not optional. I'll admit that the last time I made a punch, it was 2 gallons or more of non-alcoholic beverage, but... it lacked booze, so it wasn't a proper punch.

We of Take One Cookbook... never think that cheese is optional, that bacon is optional, or that booze is optional.

We trust you love us anyway.

Let's look at this and realize this is making 12 servings that are really, really, really small. Like, teacup size, not even coffee mug size. Certainly not Solo cup sized, and when was the last time you were at a punch-worthy occasion that called for less than Solo cup sized servings of anything?

I've never made a sherbet/HawaiianPunch/soda punch with whiskey. I tend to use cheap bubbly. Prosecco, American "champagne," whatever is less than $13 and has bubbles and booze in it.

But, really, let's again look at that size... This is not enough punch for real people. Here's how I'd do it:

4 liters ginger ale or other clear soda
2 liters of Hawaiian Punch or other fruit punch (not a can of concentrate)
1/2 gallon of rainbow sherbet
1-2 bottles inexpensive toasty/yeasty fizzy booze

Plop sherbet in large (I mean LARGE) vessel. Pour non-fizzy liquid over top. Pour non-alcoholic fizzy stuff over top. Pour fizzy booze over top. Serve.

Wendy A F G Stengel

This punch will do sans alcohol if you have a baby shower and a pregnant woman lurking. It does taste good virginized.

But the boozy bubbles make a punch.

Trust me.

Grasshopper Pie & Rhubarb Pie: Pies for Peace

Sometimes, when it seems the whole world is sliding into a cesspit, JJ, Heather and I declare Pies for Peace. Basically, this means we get together and bake pie after pie after pie. Somehow, filling the kitchen with yummy smells makes the world at large seem a bit more cheerful and manageable.

Pies for Peace shouldn't be confused with Piepocalypse, our yearly Thanksgiving glut of pie. One is all about peace and the other is all about topping last year's number & variety.

Like any self-respecting church cookbook, Presbyterian Palate Pleasers has a lot of pie recipes. Today, we'll look at two of them: Grasshopper and Rhubarb.

Grasshopper Pie

Crust:
16 Oreo cookies (crushed)
3 Tbsp. melted butter

Mix and press into a pie pan.

Filling:
24 marshmallows
3/4 c. milk
2 oz. creme de menthe
1 drop green food coloring
1 oz. creme de cacao
1 c. whipped cream

Melt marshmallows in double boiler. Add milk, blend and cool. Add creme de menthe and creme de cacao. Fold in whipped cream; add food coloring. Pour into cookie crust and chill.

Ann Bean

How much do I love grasshopper pie? It was one of my favorites growing up -- the other was coconut impossible pie, which I should really dig up and post here, because...yum. Anyway, I am not quite sure how such a boozy pie became the favorite of a wee child. I suppose it's possible my mom used mint extract and chocolate syrup or some such, but really, I doubt it.

This is one of the easier grasshopper pie recipes you'll see out there. No fiddling about with gelatin, no whipped egg whites. One thing to note: It's 24 big marshmallows, not mini. I advise you to toss the double boiler; you can melt the marshmallows in the microwave. "Less fussy" is usually the way to go.

For the ultimate in reduced fussiness, you could always buy your chocolate crumb crust pre-made. Your pie will lack a certain rustic beauty, though, and you'll miss out on the fabulous catharsis one can find when bashing Oreos into dust.

Rhubarb Pie

3 large c. rhubarb
1 egg
1-1/2 c. sugar
Butter size of walnut

Pour boiling water over rhubarb and let stand 5 minutes; drain. Mix all ingredients well and fill unbaked crust. Dust with flour and put on top crust. Bake at 350°F for 40-50 minutes.

Mrs. George S. Lehner

(Mrs. Lehner and her husband owned and operated the Dagmar Hotel for years.)

Go, Mrs. Lehner! Here's her hotel:


Dagmar Hotel, Hagerstown, MD,
by Mr. T in DC, under Creative Commons license.

The Dagmar Hotel was also the headquarters of the M.P Moller Motor Car Company for a good stretch of time. They made custom cars (called Dagmars, naturally).

Now, I dig that cooks of yore often assumed you knew without being told that you'd need crust for a double crust pie, and that you would know how to make it. I know how to make a really good pie crust.

Confession time: I usually just buy the Pillsbury crust from the refrigerator case. What can I say? It's not as good as homemade, but it's only marginally less good, and it's so fricking easy. So, you can do as I do, and there's no judgement coming at you from this corner. You can rustic it up with your crimping technique, or by being less than anal with straight lines for your lattice strips.

Never done a lattice crust? Don't fret -- it's easy, and there are lots of tutorials on how to make a lattice crust out there.

I will insist upon you having a lattice crust. It's rhubarb pie. I can't imagine a rhubarb pie without a lattice crust. Save your regular top crust for your apple pies, your blackberry pies, your peach pies. Go lattice for rhubarb.

Three cups of rhubarb is about one pound, for what it's worth. Yes, you could buy a pound of chunked up frozen rhubarb -- if you do, thaw it before using -- but it's still rhubarb season. Go buy a pound.

Three Jell-O Salads; Presbyterian Palate Pleasers, The Presbyterian Church, Hagerstown, MD

Chefly Husband and I are headed out to Wolf Trap today to hear the Indigo Girls perform, and to hang out with friends, and to picnic, picnic, picnic. There's lots of cooking going on, and not a little bit of assembly. It's all very summery.

Yesterday, we hit St. Alban's annual sidewalk book sale. I am constitutionally unable to restrain myself at such things. There shall be cookbooks! Oh, yes. There shall. I did show some restraint -- we left with only four new-to-us cookbook treasures. One is a great single-color comb-spined church cookbook from the Presbyterian Church up in Hagerstown, MD. It cost me all of twelve and a half cents. Half a quarter. You can't beat it! So, this week, before I head out to the wilds of Taiwan for a fortnight, we'll be exploring Presbyterian Palate Pleasers. Ya can't beat that title, either.

Going through the cookbook last night with my trusty Post-it flags, I found far too many cool recipes for one week, so on some days, we're going to have multiples. Like...today! Today, you get three -- three! -- molded salads, of varying difficulty.

Cherry-Coke Salad

1-lb. jar red bing cherries
1-8-oz. can crushed pineapple
1 small pkg. orange jello
1 small pkg. cherry jello
2-6-1/2 oz. bottles Coke

Drain juice from cherries and pineapple. Add enough water to make 2 c. liquid. Heat and bring to boil, then add 2 pkgs. of jello. Stir, dissolve and let cool. Add pitted cherries and pineapple. Add Coke and mix well. Refrigerate at least 3-4 hours. Serves 8.

Floyd Bingaman

Now, I like to do a little Google stalking of people who contribute to these great old cookbooks, and I was a bit surprised to see how many Floyd Bingaman hits I got. I mean...it seemed an odd sort of name. Seems that it's a family name in Hagerstown, MD. I'm suspecting that the Cherry-Coke Salad Floyd is the father or grandpa of the unfortunate Floyd who was sentenced for a terrible crime not so very long ago. (What is it with these old cookbooks and the connections with the unsavory? The Maine islanders were all linked to stories of arson and abuse, and now child murder. :shudder:)

I didn't choose this recipe for lurid tales. No, I chose it because it reminded me of a recipe from the Jell-o (let's use the preferred brand spelling, shall we?) cookbook I had as a kid. I remember making a streamlined version of this years ago, with Coke replacing water while making cherry Jell-o. Tasty stuff, and the bubbles seemed sophisticated.

Odds are, you can actually find tiny bottles of Coke at the grocer's these days. I won't think poorly of you, though, if you use the cheaper 12 oz. can. Honest.

Bloody Mary Aspic

1-24-oz. can cocktail vegetable juice
1/3 c. vodka
1-1/2 tsp. Worcestershire sauce
Hot pepper sauce
2 envelopes unflavored gelatin
2 tsp. lemon juice
1/4 tsp. garlic salt
Salad greens

In a 1-1/2 qt. saucepan, over 1 cup cold cocktail vegetable juice, sprinkle gelatin. Cook over low heat, stirring constantly until gelatin is completely dissolved. Remove from heat; stir in remaining vegetable juice and other ingredients, including a dash of hot pepper sauce. Do not add greens. Pour into a 1 qt. mold. Refrigerate until set. To serve, unmold on salad greens. A delicious salad for luncheons and dinners. Serves 6.

Frances Machen

I ran across a chilled tomato and vodka soup recipe the other day, and yelled "Just call it a Bloody Mary In A Bowl and stop with the soup pretense!" No pretense here, though Frances does stop before calling this "big Bloody Mary Jell-o shots." She also gives the helpful advice to not gunk up the salad by putting the veg IN the salad. Trust that this sort of guidance is vital in old cookbooks. You never know what someone is going to tell you to put in there; it's nice to be told to hold something back.

It seems Ms. Machen died a year ago at age 78. She had a music store, and was known as Aunt Fran to her friends' children.

See, that's the happier kind of story I like to associate with cookbooks and Jell-o.

All in all, the Bloody Mary Aspic sounds pretty tasty. You have your V8, your Tabasco...all clean bright colors. But, where is the fearful sort of molded salad we all love to read about and fear will land on our plates? Never ever think the Presbyterians are going to let you down!

Presbyterian Jello Salad

1 can tomato soup
1 box lemon jello
1/3 c. chopped celery
1/3 c. chopped green pepper
1/3 c. chopped onions
1 c. mayonnaise
2 c. cottage cheese

Melt soup and jello together over low heat, stir constantly. Add the celery, green pepper, onions, mayonnaise and cottage cheese. Chill until firm. Serves 6.

Claudia Strite

Oh, Claudia. I suspect this serves a lot more than 6.

Claudia had a big, big heart, from an early age. This, from a 1937 slave narrative:

Henry killed a man in anger and was sent to Parchman. Friends in Pontotoc intervened when they saw Emmeline's tears. Henry was made a trusty, then transferred to Jackson as a chauffer and house-boy to Governor Earl Brewer. Henry became the especial friend of the Governor's youngest daughter, Claudia, former society editor of the Daily News, now Mrs. Samuel C. Strite, of Hagerstown, Maryland.

One day Claudia, a very young miss, stuck a note under her father's plate, 'Please set Henry free.' Governor Brewer when he left office gave Henry a pardon, and the freed negro was hired as strawboss on a delta plantation, 'but I guess he was too biggety by then,' his whitehaired mother says, 'because it wasn't long until he got into another scrape and got killed.' Henry's grave in the delta is marked by a tombstone that Claudia placed there.

Okay, I just teared up. Not ashamed to say it. Much of that tale is sad, too, but the fact that the governor of Mississippi's little daughter was concerned about Henry, and years later still cared enough to place the tombstone? It's touching. And I'm a sap.

This is what this blog is about: scary recipes, warm hearts, and a generosity of spirit that shines across the years.

Cooking the Books: Bacardi Rum Cake

I said it was Cake Day, and Cake Day it is! I decided it was high time to make a Bacardi Rum Cake. I had all the ingredients in-house, including some lovely eggs from Washington's Green Grocer. Though I normally prefer to make a cake from scratch, I honored the original recipe and used a mix.

...Okay, I didn't honor it all the way...

I used half a cup of walnuts, not a full cup, and I'd feel free to omit them entirely if you have concerns about nut allergies (or if you don't know for absolutely sure that your cake audience is allergy-free).

I nabbed a box of cake mix that did have pudding included, and yet, rebel that I am, I added a box of pudding, used 4 eggs not 3, and had a full half cup of oil.

My oil was not Wesson.

My rum was not Bacardi.

And, believe it or no, I used a Bundt pan. I live in a 1937 apartment; my oven is TINY. As much as I love 9 x 13 inch pans, the narrower footprint of a Bundt just works better in my oven -- the heat can actually circulate.

The cake went together easy peasy. It filled the house with amazing scents. I had no problem getting the cake out (my Bundt is non-stick, and I buttered it liberally). And the glaze... well! I've never cooked a butter/sugar glaze before -- most cake glazes I do are water and confectioner's sugar. This took more time and stirring, but turned out beautifully. I poured it slowly over the cake, trying to let it all soak in, but there was still a pool of glaze when I was done -- you can see the pool in the picture above.

No worries. Just keep going back as it cools further, and use a spoon to, well, spoon the glaze from the pool over the cake. The glaze thickens as it cools; after a few times going back to lacquer the cake, there'll be nothing left to spoon.

The cake is gorgeous. It smells wonderful. And I can't wait to try it.

Craving Flaky Sandwiches: Nutty Sweet Potato Biscuits

Wrapping up a week of recipes from The Fruit of the Spirit: 100th Anniversary of Bittinger Lutheran Parish, we turn to the one recipe that my friend Heather had dog-eared herself before showing me the book.

Nutty Sweet Potato Biscuits
Opal Fazenbaker

2 3/4 c. all-purpose flour
4 tsp. baking powder
1 1/4 tsp. salt
1/2 tsp. ground cinnamon
1/2 tsp. ground nutmeg
3/4 c. chopped nuts
2 c. mashed sweet potatoes
3/4 c. sugar
1/2 c. butter or margarine, melted
1 tsp. vanilla extract

In a large mixing bowl, combine flour, baking powder, salt, cinnamon, nutmeg and nuts. In another bowl, combine sweet potatoes, sugar, butter and vanilla; add to flour mixture and mix well. Turn onto a lightly floured surface; knead slightly. Roll dough to 1/2-inch thickness. Cut with a 2 1/2-inch biscuit cutter and place on lightly greased baking sheets. Bake at 450° for 12 minutes, or until golden brown.

Yes, the same Opal Fazenbaker as gave us the "That's It Salad". I suspect if ever you are invited to lunch or dinner at the Fazenbakers, you're in for a heck of a meal.

Use leftover mashed up sweet potatoes, or if you're cooking strictly to make these biscuits, cook up your taters the night before; you want cold (or at least room temperature) mash to make these biscuits. And, for the love of all things holy, ignore the "margarine" option. There is no margarine option here. Use butter. If you can not bring yourself to use butter, use lard. Margarine has no place here. If you can not use animal products, still, please, don't use margarine. Use some vegetable shortening. Margarine is not going to give you the flaky soft texture you want here.

I read this recipe and think, "Damn, I want a sandwich!" I want to pull a biscuit apart, slather it with chicken curry salad, wrap a paper towel around it and run outside to eat it in the soft green grass. With a crisp white wine. Or a beer.

Oh, yes. These would be fine on a holiday buffet (choose your holiday...Easter ham, Christmas or Thanksgiving turkey, Valentine's Day sweet cream butter). They'd be great with a good lashing of Branston pickle and a crumbling of cheddar. They'd be out of this world as the base for a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

...I really need to bake. Soon.

Now All We Need Is A Gang: Grandma's Old-Fashioned Apple Dumplings

I grew up in the 1970s, and cut my entertainment consumer teeth on the offerings of the Walt Disney Company. I saw everything, and loved it all. I didn't necessarily understand it all, but that's part of the fun of a Disney movie -- you can still laugh along. Take The Apple Dumpling Gang. I adored that movie! But... I didn't really know what apple dumplings were. In fact, I didn't have an apple dumpling until ...

Crap. I've never had an apple dumpling. Okay, we'll fix that! And, just because we can, I'll use a recipe from The Fruit of the Spirit: 100th Anniversary of Bittinger Lutheran Parish (Chefly Husband suggests I can try it right away, if I just clean the kitchen! Love is strong in our household, but the cleaning instinct needs a little bit of a push here and there.).

Grandma's Old-Fashioned Apple Dumplings
Kristen Shawley

6 med. sized Granny Smith apples
2 c. flour
2 1/2 tsp. baking powder
1/2 tsp. salt
2/3 c. shortening
1/2 c. milk

Peel and core apples. Cut in half. For pastry, sift flour, baking powder and salt together. Cut in shortening, until particles are the size of small peas. Sprinkle milk over mixture and press together lightly, working dough only enough to hold together. Roll dough as for pastry and cut 12 squares and place 1/2 an apple on each. Fill cavity in apple with sugar and sprinkle with cinnamon. Pat dough around apple, to cover it completely. Fasten edges securely on top of apple. Place in baking pan and cover with sauce (recipe follows). Bake at 350° for 35 to 40 minutes. Baste every 15 minutes, during baking. (Unbaked dumplings with sauce may be frozen. If frozen, increase baking time to approximately 1 hour.)

Sauce:
2 c. brown sugar
2 c. water
1/4 c. butter
1/4 tsp. cinnamon

Combine brown sugar, water and cinnamon in a medium saucepan. Cook for 5 minutes; remove from heat and add butter. Stir until butter is melted.

According to Wikipedia, apple dumplings are a Northeastern thing -- so I don't feel so terrible that my Northwestern self grew up so deprived -- and that they are a common dessert but also breakfast.

Oooo, I'm a fan of hot pastry for breakfast. Hot pastry, with milk or ice cream. For breakfast. Hot, sauce-covered, sugary, healthful apples.

Setting A Man Trap: Blueberry Boy Bait

Okay, okay, once you see the size of the pan required, you may not believe that I chose this recipe based on the name and not the pan. But, really, when I found "Blueberry Boy Bait" in The Fruit of the Spirit: 100th Anniversary of Bittinger Lutheran Parish, I first started giggling madly, then started thinking that I hadn't watched Gidget or Tammy and The Bachelor in far too long, and then that I really needed to post this recipe.

Blueberry Boy Bait
Ethel Buckel

2 c. all-purpose flour
1 1/2 c. sugar
2 tsp. baking powder
1 tsp. salt
3/4 tsp. nutmeg
2/3 c. softened butter
1 c. milk
2 eggs
1 c. blueberries
1/4 c. sugar
1/2 tsp nutmeg

Cream butter and 1 1/2 cups sugar. Add eggs. Combine flour, baking powder, salt and nutmeg in a separate bowl. Add milk, alternately, with combined dry ingredients. Pour into 9 x 13-inch pan. Top with blueberries, 1/4 cup sugar and 1/2 teaspoon nutmeg. Bake at 350° for 40-50 minutes.

Despite the off-putting lack of serial commas, this is just a delightful recipe! I particularly like that instead of saying "1 3/4 c. sugar, divided" in the initial recipe list, they break it out for you, in order and volume of use. Some folks may prefer it the other way, but for me, a serial ingredient list is as important as a serial comma.

Serial commas: they're good enough for the U.S. G.P.O., they're good enough for you.

Back to the title. It seems like this is going to hav eto be something simple enough for a novice cook to whip together on her own (yes, "her"... I think it's safe to say that whomever came up with this recipe was pretty much trying to help a girl get her boy, though I wholeheartedly support boys using it to bait girls and girls using it to bait girls and so and so and so forth) without much supervision from her mother (yes, "mother" ... for the sake of the rest of this post, let's just role play and think that Mrs. Lawrence is trying to help Francie/Gidget to ensnare Jeffrey/Moondoggie -- embrace your 1959 teen romance). It should also be incredibly tasty. I'm surprised there's no vanilla or cinnamon to up the smell of the bait, but nutmeg -- so linked with pumpkin pie -- is going to bring a lot of good baking spice to the man trap.

We're in season for blueberries in the US, and I've seen some great buy-one-get-one-free specials at the grocery store. The pick-your-own farms around DC aren't open for blueberries yet; maybe later this summer I can cook the book on this one, with freshly-picked local (false) berries.

Even if you've already sprung a perfectly serviceable trap, why not try out the boy bait when next you need a 9 x 13 baked good? At the very least, file it away for Independence Day, where the blue will play nicely with some cut strawberries and vanilla ice cream.

Only Enough To Act As A Preservative: Bacardi Rum Cake

Yesterday, I shared my love of the 9 x 13-inch pan. Growing up, all cakes were made in this venerable dish. My sister's must-have birthday cake (Lemon Jell-O Cake, which I'll post when I do the Fishwives cookbook) was always the friendly rectangle. It was only much later in life that I read the full recipe and realized that the cake was supposed to be baked in a Bundt pan. Today's recipe from The Fruit of the Spirit: 100th Anniversary of Bittinger Lutheran Parish says to use a Bundt, too -- but out of cakely familial loyalty, I'd be tempted to use the tried and true 9 x 13.

Bacardi Rum Cake
Linda Thomas

Cake:

1 c. chopped pecans or walnuts
1 pkg. yellow cake mix
1 sm. pkg. vanilla instant pudding
4 eggs
1/2 c. cold water
1/2 c. Wesson oil
1/2 c. Bacardi rum

Glaze:

1/4 lb. butter
1/4 c. water
1 c. white sugar
1/2 c. rum

Preheat oven to 325°. Grease and flour tube or bundt pan. Sprinkle nuts over bottom of pan. Mix all cake ingredients together over nuts. Pour batter over nuts. Bake 1 hour. Cool. Invert on serving plate. Prick top. Spoon or brush glaze evenly over top, allowing cake to absorb glaze. Glaze: Melt butter in saucepan. Stir in water and sugar. Boil 5 minutes, stirring constantly. Remove from heat. Stir in rum. *If using cake mix with pudding already in the mix, omit instant pudding, use 3 eggs instead of 4, use 1/3 cup oil instead of 1/2 cup.

Pudding: the great moisturizer of cake. I like the substitution hints here, as I bet they can be used for lots of other cake-doctoring recipes.

Some of you may not keep rum around the house. If you're one of those people, you might want to know how much, really, you need to buy. Well, a fifth of rum is 750 ml, which is about 25 ounces, or just over three cups. So, one regular-sized bottle of Bacardi is going to get you through this cake and two others (or this cake and several Cuba Libres). Should you go for a light rum, or a dark rum? I leave it to your personal tastes. If you don't think you have personal tastes when it comes to rum, then I suggest going for a light rum, so that your cake color is still light and lovely. You can up the amount of rum you use in the glaze (1/4 cup of rum brings more flavor to the cake than 1/4 cup of water, after all) if you want to have really rummy cake.

I remember my first rum cake (eating, not making). I was over at the Schrader's house, and Martha had made an apple rum cake. It was delicious, and I probably ate too much of it, especially considering that I was a kid. Remember: alcohol can cook out of dishes, and probably does cook out of the cake. However, it's NOT cooking out of the glaze. There's active, boozy rum here; do not serve to those who have medical, religious, or other reasons to avoid, well, Demon Rum.

Not to sound like a complete lush, but a rum cake (be it in a 9 x 13 or a Bundt) would be a great dish to take to your Memorial Day barbeque/picnic/potluck/what have you, if you're going to be around mostly-grown-ups. The pudding guarantees a moist cake, the Bacardi guarantees a delicious one.

Seven Similar Salads: Jell-O and Dairy

Memorial Day is fast upon us, and it's time to think about salads and sides to take to barbeques, picnics, and potlucks. I've always been a fan of Jell-O based salads, be they molded or unstructured. Thankfully, as my friend Heather pointed out, The Fruit of the Spirit: 100th Anniversary of Bittinger Lutheran Parish offers up seven (seven!) similar salads, so we can take our pick of those that fit our needs/desires/fears/etc.

I'm In A Hurry Salad
Linda Buckel

1 (8-oz.) pkg. cottage cheese
1 sm. box orange Jello
1 sm. ctn. Cool Whip
1 can mandarin oranges
1 can pineapple

Mix all ingredients together and refrigerate.

I assume we're draining the liquid on the fruits here. If you're making this for a party that will have rum-fueled punch, I suggest reserving the liquid to throw in your punch bucket.

What?

Yes, I said "bucket." At my last (okay, "only") tiki party, I mixed up my rum punch in a big paint bucket. Worked great.

I'd be tempted to throw shredded coconut and bananas in here, too, but that might just be because I'm fondly remembering the tiki party. On to salad #2!

Jello Salad
Ruth Ann Beckman

1 (3-oz.) pkg. Jello (flavor of choice)
1 (3-oz.) pkg. cream cheese, softened
1 can crushed pineapple
1/3 c. sugar
Dash salt
1 pkg. Dream Whip, whipped

Combine Jello, pineapple, sugar and salt in a saucepan. Heat until Jello is dissolved; cool. Whip Dream Whip. Mix in cream cheese. Add pineapple mixture. Pour into mold.

And here, let's assume we're not draining the pineapple. I know, I'm being all sorts of guess-y about it, but I think the Jell-O needs some liquid to dissolve. Since this involves both cooking and setting, it doesn't get a pithy title like "I'm In A Hurry Salad," above. No, it's more of a "I Knew About This Potluck A Day In Advance, So Actually Did Something Requiring Some Planning" Salad. But what about when you're looking for something a little more festive?

Lutheran Recipe for Holiday Jello
Marvin Beckman
1 sm. pkg. green Jello
1 c. boiling water
1 sm. pkg. cream cheese

Mix these three ingredients together and let Jello set until fold stage. Whip 1 small carton of whipping cream. Add to Jello, along with 1 small can of crushed pineapple and just enough chopped walnuts. Chill and serve.

Hint: Do not use red Jello for this recipe!

...I wonder what happens when you use red Jell-O for this recipe? I also wonder if Marvin is husband, son, cousin, or some other relation to Ruth Ann, whose Jello salad looks to be a bit better documented. Why did Marvin leave out the whipping cream in his list of ingredients?

And what happens if you use red Jell-O?

Orange Jello Salad Dessert
Ethel Buckel

2 (3-oz.) pkgs. orange Jello
2 c. boiling water
1 sm. can frozen orange juice
1 sm. can mandarin oranges
1 med. can crushed pineapple
1 pkg. lemon pudding mix
1 c. milk
8 oz. Cool Whip
Chopped nuts

Dissolve Jello in boiling water. Add orange juice. When jelled, add one small can mandarin oranges, drained. Add pineapple, juice and all. When set, top with one package lemon pudding mix, made with one cup milk. Mix with 8 ounces Cool Whip. Top with chopped nuts. Makes 9 x 13-inch pan.

Blame it on my upbringing, but I automatically think "good food here" when I see something served up in a 9 x 13-inch pan. Salads. Cakes. Casseroles. Lasagnes. If you do it in a 9 x 13-incher, you are clearly thinking of feeding a crowd.

The pudding mix in the recipe is pretty clearly supposed to be instant pudding mix, which makes this a natural for using more than one Jell-O brand product in one recipe. Personally, I'd not be putting nuts on top -- too many of my friends are nut-allergic. I'm thinking crushed Nilla Wafers or graham crackers would add a crunchy component if you think one is missing from the toothless joy of this dessert.

I think the Buckels are orange Jell-O loyalists. I can get behind that. But, let's get back to that maligned red Jell-O...

Star Cranberry Salad
Lois Watson

2 c. ground raw cranberries
2 c. sugar
2 boxes red Jello
2 c. hot water
2 c. pineapple, drained and juice reserved
2 c. celery, cut fine
1 c. chopped walnuts

Mix the cranberries and sugar. Set aside. Mix the Jello into the hot water and pineapple juice until dissolved. Add cranberries. Mix in celery and walnuts. Refrigerate until thick. Best if made a day ahead.

Jell-O and celery, folks. Celery. In your Jell-O.

Maybe that's what happens when you start using red Jell-O. Unexpected vegetables start sneaking in and trying to come to the party. (Okay, actually, I suspect one shouldn't use red Jell-O in the previous recipe because the salad has no cranberries in it, and a holiday table with a red gelatinous salad should have cranberries...)

Not sure why this is "star" cranberry salad. Should one use a star-shaped mold? Is it the star of any buffet table it graces?

We'll close out the Jell-O parade with a salad that seems a lot like our first option at first glance.

That's It Salad
Opal Fazenbaker

1 pkg. Jello (any flavor)
1 sm. can crushed pineapple
1 sm. ctn. cottage cheese
1 sm. ctn. non-dairy whipped topping

Transfer pineapple to microwave-safe container and heat in microwave, about 90 seconds. Dissolve the Jello mix in the hot pineapple; let cool to room temperature. Add cottage cheese and mix well. Add the whipped topping and mix well again and that's it!

How's it different from "I'm In A Hurry"? Well, there's no mandarin oranges (I'm sure the recipe could take 'em, though, if stirred in at the same time as one of the white and creamy elements -- just drain first). Also, the heating and dissolving is going to give a different texture. As for me, I'll admit it -- I really do like salads that have Cool Whip and undissolved Jell-O powder. They remind me of my childhood, and they make me smile. If the idea of seeing grains of fake coloring and gelatin in your salad makes you a little squeamish, try "That's It," instead.

Bug Juice? No, Green Punch!

I had half a mind to be high-minded about the The Fruit of the Spirit: 100th Anniversary of Bittinger Lutheran Parish recipe selections. I really thought I wanted to prove that community cookbooks were treasure troves of fabulous recipes you might otherwise never find.

And then I found Green Punch.

Green Punch
Lottie Brenneman

2 pkgs. lemon-lime Kool-Aid
1 (46-oz.) can pineapple juice
2 quts. water
1 qt. 7-Up or ginger ale
Mix together and add ginger ale or 7-Up last. Sherbert may be added.

Oh, hell, yes. It's nearly Memorial Day weekend, it's going to be in the mid-80s here in DC, and Green Punch? Green Punch sounds like icy cold perfection.

I'm assuming that the packages of Kool-Aid are the "add 1 cup of sugar" kinds...one envelope each, which would normally make 2 quarts of Kool-Aid. I also assume that, with the soda and the juice, there's no need at all to actually add sugar, so the omission in the ingredient list is not so much an omission as a nod to not developing diabetes. Personally, I find diet 7-Up and diet ginger ale to be perfectly acceptable substitutes for the full-sugar variety, so you could shave a couple hundred calories off every serving if you want to make a substitution.

Then again, on the same page, there's "Easy Punch," which has Kool-Aid, pineapple juice, water, 7-Up, ice cream and 3 cups of sugar. If you want to get your sugar high on, you certainly have options in The Fruit of the Spirit.

Green drinks make me think of camp (but in a good way), picnics, birthday parties, field days... It's the sort of thing that feels fancy when you're five. As summer comes on, I think that fancy-for-a-five-year-old is well worth embracing in our culinary endeavors. Cheers.

The Fruit of the Spirit: 100th Anniversary of Bittinger Lutheran Parish; Poor Man's Crab Cakes

Last night, at a lovely supper with friends (pork roast, scalloped potatoes, roasted asparagus, pinot noir), our hostess took out The Fruit of the Spirit: 100th Anniversary of Bittinger Lutheran Parish (Morris Press, 2008). Seems her mom gave her this church cookbook, and she knew of my love for all things cookbook-y, so we started going through it. Community cookbooks can get a bad rap; people think everything's going to be "take four cans of this sodium bomb and twelve cans of this mushy veg and call it a casserole." There's so much more that can be found, though! Take the first recipe I stopped at:

Poor Man's Crab Cakes
Glenne Blocher

2 c. grated zucchini squash
1 c. bread crumbs (plain or Italian)
1 tsp. mayonnaise
1 T. Old Bay seasoning
2 eggs

Mix squash, bread crumbs, mayonnaise, Old Bay seasoning and eggs. Shape into small patties. Dip in flour. Fry until brown. Serve hot or cold.

I don't know that I'd bother calling it a crab cake, but this sounds darned tasty. And, though right now you'd probably have to go to the grocers for some zucchini, we're not so far from the bumper crop times where you'll be finding zucchini in big bags on your desk or stoop if you even mention in passing that you'd be willing to take some off a gardener friend's hands. File this away until you have a surplus, and have fun with it. Perhaps make a nice remoulade for dipping or garnish...

Chefly Husband says that he's never heard of a recipe that used 1 teaspoon of mayonnaise. "What's the point of 1 teaspoon of mayonnaise?" I kind of agree with him, and would be tempted to reduce the number of eggs and up the amount of mayo for taste purposes. It's worth tinkering with.

You can't find a copy of The Fruit of the Spirit through Amazon yet, but you can still get a copy for $10 from the fine folks of Bittinger Lutheran Parish in Bittinger, MD. It's out in Garrett County, Maryland. As my friend says, "You know, where Maryland gets skinny, and then gets fat again?" Garrett County.

This week, we'll look at the happy surprises in this community cookbook.