I was a lucky little girl. My neighborhood friends were envious when my mom invited me to be in the kitchen with her. It was during our kitchen sessions together that she taught me the tricks of the home-cook's trade. By the time I was 12 years old, I knew how to make macaroni and cheese from scratch. I realized later in life that not only was I creating one of my favorite meals, I was practicing the art of French cooking.
The base of the creamy cheese sauce loaded with cooked elbow macaroni was béchamel sauce. Béchamel (bay-shah-mell), one of the mother sauces of French cooking and probably the easiest to make, starts with melted butter and flour and ends with milk and cheese.
The other day I made croque monsieur, French-style ham and cheese sandwiches topped with thick, cheesy bechamel. I made more of the gruyere and parmesan-spiked sauce than I would need for the sandwiches just so I could make baked penne.
Years ago I lived on Aquidneck Island (home to Newport, Rhode Island) and every June we’d head over to Quonset View Farms, high up in the middle of the island where the cold fog off the ocean just kisses the plants and fades away in time for daily sun baths. The soil must be pretty special there, too, as I swear I’ve never tasted strawberries so sweet and juicy. At Quonset View, it was hard to get out of the field without eating most of your berries.
Cobbler, slump, or grunt; have you heard of these desserts? Most people can recognize a cobbler, a fruit dessert baked in a casserole with a dough topping but with no bottom crust. A slump or grunt is almost the
same thing except that they are simmered on the stove, resulting in a
steamed dumpling-like top. Supposedly one dessert is named after how
the dumplings look (they slump) and the other after the sound the
bubbling fruit makes (it grunts). All three are considered New England
specialties dating back to Colonial times, when they would have been
made in a cast-iron pan over a fire. Luckily we now have the luxury of
using a stove or oven.
Even though spring is officially here, I'm still craving comfort foods,
like stews and braised meats. Since cold weather isn't a prerequisite
for braising, this past weekend I braised short ribs. After a low, slow
braise, the meat turns buttery, soft and absolutely tender enough to cut
into with a fork. With Passover and Easter just around the corner, a
braised meal is just right for a holiday dinner with family. Instead of
the more typical brisket for Passover, why not bring braised short ribs
to the Seder table?
In Italy's Piedmont region, where polenta may be better loved than
anywhere else on Earth, the cornmeal mush is a food of the fall. When
the air turns crisp with the first frost and people await the arrival
of snow, housewives labor over their cooking pots, stirring, stirring
as coarse meal slurried in water gradually thickens and becomes sticky
and delicious. To serve, it's poured out onto a wooden board in a rich
golden puddle like a harvest moon.