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.

Turkey Noodle Casserole

It's Thanksgiving week, the great week of culinary traditions and improvisations. My friend Heather came over with eight fully cooked boneless turkey breasts, and so we're doing turkey leftovers early.

Simple Turkey Leftovers

Rip off a hunk of turkey meat.

Squeeze on some mayo -- preferably Duke's or Hellman's/Best Foods.

Eat.

Repeat.

That got us through a few days.

Tonight, however, I put together a turkey noodle casserole. Now, I'm no stranger to tuna noodle casserole (though I rarely bother to put it in the oven after mixing), but this is my first ever turkey one. Why? Because I usually am through with my turkey leftovers after sandwiches and simple turkey leftovers like above. With 20 or so pounds of meat to get through, I've plenty.

Turkey Noodle Casserole

Roasted turkey meat, roughly diced --at least two cups and up to five
"Cream of" -- one can (I used cream of celery)
sour cream -- 8 oz.
peas and carrots -- one can, drained, or 1-2 cups frozen
Egg noodles, cooked and drained -- one box or bag (I used spätzle)
black pepper -- to taste
your favorite casserole topping -- to cover (I used seasoned bread crumbs drizzled with olive oil; feel free to use corn flakes or what have you)

Preheat your oven to 350°F. In your favorite 9" x 13" pan, mix together the first five ingredients, thoroughly. Taste. Add pepper to your liking. Odds that you'll need to add salt are slim, what with the canned goods in play here. If it needs salt, though, have at it. Smooth the casserole down so it's level all over, and cover in your topping.

Pop into the oven, and leave it there until your topping is crisped, or until your house smells amazing, or until you can't wait any longer. This takes about 20-45 minutes.

Serve hot, serve cold, serve however. Tastes good with pinot noir.

And that's dinner. Well, and lunch for the next few days, too.

Noodles!: Dragon-Fire Noodles with Shrimp

I love noodles. I love every darned thing about noodles. I love them hot. I love them cold. I love them buttered, sauced, and naked. I love them bland and comforting, and, yes, I love them spicy as all heckfire. Noodles! And, it's been a long while since my noodle love got to shine through here at Take One Cookbook. So, let's take a look at The Wine Lover's Cookbook: Great Recipes for the Perfect Glass of Wine and see what noodly goodness we find.

Dragon-Fire Noodles with Shrimp
Recommended Wine: Pinot Gris/Grigio
Alternative Wine: Riesling

This dish is an adaptation of a recipe from my friend Barbara Tropp, whose former China Moon restaurant and incredibly wonderful cookbooks set the standard in contemporary Chinese cooking. This fiery noodle recipe demonstrates how well a fruity wine with good acidity can counterbalance chile heat. A very light, crisp Italian pinot grigio would be the best choice here.

1/4 cup hot chile oil
1 tablespoon toasted sesame oil
1/4 teaspoon Thai chile paste
2 1/2 tablespoons reduced-salt soy sauce
2 tablespoons chopped pickled ginger ...
2 tablespoons juice from pickled ginger
1 1/2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
2 1/2 tablespoons seasoned rice-wine vinegar
1 1/2 tablespoons chopped fresh mint
Minced zest of 1 lemon
1 pound shrimp, shelled and deveined
1 pound Chinese egg noodles
1 roasted red bell pepper, peeled and chopped ...
1 roasted yellow bell pepper, peeled and chopped
1 cup loosely packed cilantro leaves
Garnish: white or black sesame seeds and minced green onions

In a large mixing bowl, combine oils, chile paste, soy sauce, pickled ginger and juice, lemon juice, vinegar, mint and lemon zest and whisk together. Adjust seasonings; mixture should be hot and spicy but not tongue-numbing. Add shrimp to mixture and refrigerate for 1 to 2 hours.

In a large soup pot, bring salted water to a gentle boil. Carefully add the noodles and cook for 2 minutes, or until the noodles are al dente. Strain noodles thoroughly and return them to the pot. Add about a tablespoon of the marinade to the noodles to prevent them from sticking, and combine well. Cover.

In a large sauté pan or skillet over medium-high heat, add shrimp along with marinade and simmer for 1 to 2 minutes until shrimp are just cooked through. Add shrimp and marinade to the noodles and heat the entire mixture.

Just prior to serving, add the roasted peppers and cilantro leaves and mix thoroughly. Garnish with the sesame seeds and green onions. Serve immediately.

This dish can be served in smaller portions in a wine-friendly Asian meal with the Asian-Style Grilled Squab with Fennel, Bok Choy, and Chanterelle Mushrooms ....

Serves 2 to 3 as an entrée or 4 to 6 as an appetizer.

Finally, a serial comma! Just the one, though.

I don't believe in noodle dishes as appetizers. I believe in noodle dishes that fill the plate and the belly. So, um, don't think about serving 6 with this, if I'm coming over.

I've recently finished reading the Temeraire books by Naomi Novik (on my Kindle, which I love, even though/because it makes getting the next book in a series (any series) so darned easy). If you're unfamiliar with them, basically, it's about a British naval officer during the Napoleanic war, and, well, there's aerial support for the navy battles...from dragons. Trust me, it actually works. The main dragon enjoys Chinese food (really, in context, it makes sense), and likes it hot and spicy; I love that this fiery dish tips its hat to dragons.

I'm not usually a big pinot gris fan. Pinot noir, sure. Pinot blanc, naturally. But pinot gris reminds me of working on a Christmas tree farm--the smell and taste of dirt. So, I'd go with a riesling, but your mileage may vary. The key descriptors are "light" and "crisp"--stay away from any oaky, buttery white.

Let's talk food safety for a bit here; unless you're going to cook the noodles with sauce and shrimp for a good long while (more than just heating through), you need to change the method. After you make your marinade, take some out and put it aside (in the fridge) before you put the shrimp in the remaining marinade. You don't want to have shrimped marinade going on your food w/o thorough cooking. It's not as bad as doing that with chicken--which you'd never do, right?--but it's still not the wisest course of action. Be safe, and plan for food safety.

Why, Yes, We Are From North Dakota: Knephla Soup

One thing you should know: I come from North Dakotan, German-by-way-of-Russia folk. My family left the Alsace, moved to Russia, and then left Russia for the wilds of the North American Midwest. (Well, the part of the family that didn't come over from Iceland at about the same time. Or Ireland fifty or so years before that. Or, you know, England, pre-Revolution -- yes, I could join the D.A.R.) Anyway, the Germany/North Dakota connection shines through in a lot of the Spratt/Bachman & Mellberg/McKenzie Family Cookbook 2008 recipes. Take the North Dakotan soup:

Knephla Soup
Anthony Bachman

4 qts water
1/4 cup + 1 T. chicken bouillon
5 med. Potatoes
1 c. dice Carrots
1 c. diced ham
1 small onion
2 bay leaves
Simmer until potatoes and carrots are soft

Knephla

2 c. flour
1 egg
1 t. salt
1 t. baking powder
1/4 c. milk or enough to make a soft dough

Mix knephla dough together with a fork and add enough milk to make a soft dough. Roll into a quarter inch rope and snip off with kitchen shears or knife. Drop into soup and cook for 10 to 15 minutes.

Aaaah, farm food! Hearty, cheap, easy to make in large quantities. I'd eschew the bouillon, and just use 4 quarts of good chicken stock. I'm torn between calling the knephla (spelled elsewhere as knoephla) "dumplings" or "spaetzle" or "gnocchi," but whatever you call 'em, they're going to be tasty little blobs of carby goodness, and I'd wager they'd make you feel better when you're recovering from a cold.

Knephla seems to come from the German word "knopf," which means button, or knob. So, wee knobby buttons, in your soup -- an interesting image. Though some recipes call for adding milk or cream to the broth, you're going to get some creaminess from the knephla themselves -- the flour will thicken the surrounding broth somewhat. I'm tempted to throw in a hearty knob of butter to enrich the soup, myself, and if I did feel a need for more dairy, I'd go to the Irish side of my family, and open a can of evaporate milk to pour in -- it's a staple for our family's potato soup.

The Germans from Russia Heritage Collection in Fargo, N.D., has a great foodways section with links to cookbooks for sale, recipes, and articles on food culture in the German-by-way-of-Russia community. Check it out, especially if you want to see other ways to make knoephla/knephla.

Spaghetti With Onions

And, we're back! The Georgetown Gilbert & Sullivan Society's production of "Urinetown" was a blast, but very time-consuming, and I've spent the time since the show closed to catch up on the rest of life. One big wonderful thing: my kitchen's recovered! I can cook, whenever I like, with a clean kitchen and a shiny sink.

I just had dinner, a simple spaghetti with olive oil, garlic, and freshly crushed red pepper (a reminder of this summer's harvest, and the coworkers who have abundant gardens). Last night, dinner was ziti with some doctored up jarred sauce. It's just a few days until Thanksgiving, and this week seems to be about keeping it really simple before the big feast. If you're of the same mind, try this recipe from Moosewood Restaurant Low-Fat Favorites:

Spaghetti with Onions

We modified this recipe from Ed Giobbi, who found it in a very old Italian cookbook. Just as he says, it's a winner.

The pasta is only partially cooked when you add it to the sauce, so as it finishes cooking, it releases the rest of its starch, creating a sauce so thick and unctuous you'd swear it had cheese in it -- a bit of kitchen wizardry at work!

4 large onions
2 teaspoons olive oil
2 teaspoons ground fennel (optional)
1 pound spaghetti
1 cup skim milk
1 cup canned tomatoes, crushed or coarsely chopped (8-ounce can)
1 teaspoon salt
ground black pepper to taste

Slice off the ends of the onions. Cut each onion in half lengthwise and remove the peel. Lice each half lengthwise into strips.

Bring a large pot of water to a boil.

While the water heats, pour the oil into a large skillet or wide soup pot and add the onion and fennel, if using. Sauté, stirring occasionally to prevent sticking, until the onions are translucent, about 10 minutes.

Ease the spaghetti into the boiling water, stir, and cover. Cook the spaghetti for just 10 minutes.

Meanwhile, add the milk and tomatoes to the onions. The milk will curdle, but don't worry. Cover and gently simmer.

When the spaghetti has cooked exactly 5 minutes, drain it and add it immediately to the onion mixture. Simmer the spaghetti in the sauce for about 5 minutes, stirring constantly, until the pasta is al dente and the sauce is smooth. Drizzle in a little more milk if the sauce becomes too stiff. Add the salt and pepper to taste. Serve immediately.

Serves 4.
Total time: 40 minutes.

Here's for a spaghetti recipe that acknowledges that one pound of pasta is NOT eight servings! Hurrah for a really big plate full of noodles so unctuous the recipe actually uses the word "unctuous."

I'm fond of this recipe in part because of the phrase "don't worry." It's reassuring at a point that most cooks would probably freak out. "Holy crap, it's CURDLING!!!" you might shriek (if you were me) as you then dumped out the entire mess, served the spaghetti with a (large) pat of butter, and uncorking a bottle for a big consolation glass of wine. But no. The Moosewood folks want you to know that you're on the right track, even when it looks like you're not. Good times.

We'll finish up with Moosewood this week, before Thanksgiving. On the big day, I'll share recipes not from a cookbook, but from our table. And then we'll start anew, with a cookbook a week, and a recipe a day.

Take One Cookbook is back!

Pasta with Chickpeas

One of the signs of a well-loved recipe in a well-loved book: pencil marks. Today's recipe from Moosewood Restaurant Low-Fat Favorites has calculated Weight Watchers Points next to all the ingredients, and then a total-points-for-the-whole-recipe in the upper corner. See, though the recipe may say it serves 4 to 6, it has pasta in it, and that makes it a crazy guessing game for serving size around me. Pasta = more, please.

Pasta with Chickpeas

Pasta with Chickpeas is considered an unusual dish in the United States, but this combination is very common in Italian cuisine. In ancient Rome, Horace wrote about it with longing and glad anticipation. Tomatoes are a relatively recent addition to the sauce.

Our tasty sauce, thick and substantial with a high protein and high fiber content, is quickly produced from economical pantry items. There is just enough rosemary to make it interesting without being overpowering; use fresh rosemary so that the whole sprigs can be removed from the sauce.

1 1/2 cups finely chopped onions
2 large garlic cloves, minced or pressed
3 fresh rosemary sprigs, 2 inches each
2 teaspoons olive oil
4 cups chopped fresh or 3 cups canned tomatoes (28-ounce can, undrained)
3 1/2 cups cooked chickpeas (two 15- or 16-ounce cans)
salt and ground black pepper to taste
1 pound short chunky pasta, such as ditalini, tubetti, or orecchiette
2/3 cup crumbled feta cheese
chopped fresh tomatoes (optional)

Combine the onions, garlic, rosemary, and oil in a well-seasoned skillet or nonstick saucepan and sauté on low heat for about 10 minutes, until the onions are soft and golden. Add the tomatoes and half of the chickpeas and cook for another 10 minutes. Remove the rosemary sprigs and discard (see Note). In a blender, purée the tomato-chickpea mixture until smooth. Return it to the skillet, stir in the remaining chickpeas, and add salt and pepper to taste.

Meanwhile, bring a large covered pot of water to a boil. When the water boils, add the pasta, stir, cover the pot, and return to a boil. Stir the pasta again and cook, uncovered, until al dente. Drain the pasta. In a large serving bowl, toss the pasta with the chickpea sauce and serve immediately. Sprinkle with feta cheese or pass the feta at the table and top with tomatoes, if desired.

Note: For a stronger rosemary flavor, strip the leaves from one of the rosemary sprigs and add them to the blender with the tomato-chickpea mixture before puréeing.

Serves 4 to 6
Total time: 20 minutes

So quick! So easy! So darned tasty!

But...Horace and chickpeas? Turns out, he does mention them. And why not? Chickpeas (or garbanzos, or cecis) have a long history. According to Wikipedia, there've been 7,500 year old chickpeas found. And, no, they weren't in my cupboard (oldest chickpeas there: probably about 7 years...).

What I love about this recipe: It's got pasta. And tomatoes. And chickpeas. What's not to love?

Okay, it doesn't freeze well. And it really is better hot, though it will do a passable reheat in the office microwave. The cheese melts, though; you figured that one out already, I bet. It's easy as pie to make a huge batch of for a really cozy if somewhat last minute dinner party; if you invite friends over for an unexpected game night, you can all sit around with big bowls of this and not make as much of a mess as you would with a saucy dish of longer noodles. Pairs great with a medium-bodied red wine, too.

Really, the more I type, the more I think this has "game night" written all over it.

I'm a linguistic chameleon on the chickpea vs. garbanzo divide; I grew up referring to them as the former, and now tend to go with the later.

When Is A Sundae Not A Sundae?: Chinese Sundae

Sometimes, if an item resembles another item in any way, it will take the name of what it resembles. Take, for example, the Appletini -- an Apple Martini that is apple-y, and alcoholic, and served in a cocktail glass, but is in no way a combination of gin and vermouth. Or, take this recipe, from the Milwaukee Ward Relief Society Cookbook:

Chinese Sundae
Carol Meyer

Make sundae in following order:

1. Rice
2. Chow mein noodles
3. Chopped chicken
4. Chicken gravy
5. Chopped tomatoes
6. Chopped celery
7. Grated cheese
8. Chopped green onions
9. Pineapple chunks
10. Coconut
11. Chopped almonds
12. Maraschino cherries

So... this could go in a sundae glass. Sure. And it's different food substances, layered together. It has pineapple. Coconut. Nuts. It's topped with a cherry.

Other than that, it sounds like a hot nightmare. I was going along with it until item 4. Chicken gravy? Oh, no... And cheese? In a "Chinese" dish? I'm skeptical.

I wonder... if we took out the gravy, and layered the chow mein noodles a little higher up, how this would work out. Ditch the cheese. And the cherry. Use a little soy for moisture, if needed, or, heck, some plum sauce or duck sauce. There's got to be potential for layering stuff like a sundae for dinner.

The 1980 publication date hides the fact that these recipes are very, very, very 1970s.

These Are A Few Of My Favorite Things: Noodles with Sour Cream and Cottage Cheese

People are often surprised when I say what my favorite food is. I guess they expect me to say seared foie gras, or lamb in a coffee, chocolate, and pinot noir sauce, or some such rich and beautiful thing. It's true, I do love those things, but if I had to choose one favorite food it would be...

...noodles.

Noodles. Noodles of all kinds. I adore noodles! They are perfection. So, when The Kitchen Survival Guide pairs noodles with two other loves of mine, I have to stand up and shout "huzzah!"

Noodles with Sour Cream and Cottage Cheese

This is a traditional Sunday night supper in our house. You can throw it together in 5 minutes (not counting the time it takes to cook the noodles). Substitute plain yogurt for the sour cream and use low-fat cottage cheese, if you wish.

Preparation time: 15 minutes, including the time to cook the noodles
Cooking time: approximately 10 minutes following the directions on the noodle package
Yield: 4 to 6 servings
Can be made ahead? No.
Can be frozen? No.
Can be doubled and tripled? Yes.
Good for leftovers? Okay.

1 teaspoon salt
8 ounces wide egg noodles
1 cup (8 ounces) sour cream or plain yogurt
1 cup (8 ounces) creamy style or low-fat cottage cheese
Salt and pepper to taste

Bring a large pot with 2 quarts of water and the salt to a boil. Add the noodles, and stir for a moment to separate them. Cook for the minimum time recommended on the package.

While the noodles are cooking, empty the sour cream and cottage cheese into a serving bowl and mix together. When the noodles are cooked drain them, then mix them gently with the sour cream/cottage cheese mixture. Add salt and pepper as desired.

It's official: I want to live at Lora Brody's house. At least on Sundays around dinner time.

Egg noodles and sour cream always get me to thinking of beef stroganoff, but this gem of a recipe is much more likely to be pantry cooking for me than stroganoff. I just don't keep fresh mushrooms in the house all the time, nor, frankly, beef. I shop for those for specific recipes. But, creamy yummy dairy goods? Always in the fridge! Egg noodles? Always in the pantry!

There's not a thing about this recipe that doesn't make me think "warm," "cozy," "homey," or "soothing." I can't imagine it being good for leftovers...

...mostly because I can't imagine leaving any to be left over.