Retro Recipes and Traditional Fare

When ever we go out for barbque, I always, choose baked beans as one of my sides. There is something so satisfying and so comforting in eating a dish like this along with my tri-tip sandwich and a double portion of asian slaw.

I have had this particular recipe for baked beans in my repertoire for over 25 years. They serve a crowd – a very large crowd. Therefore, I only have a few opportunities through out the year to make this dish. Using only 5 ingredients, cooked slowly in the oven for about 5 hours, these baked bean are always the star of the evening.

This past July 4th, we celebrated the day with our good friends and 60 of their nearest and dearest. When I heard the number of people I asked if I could make my homemade baked beans. My friend, B, responded with, “my husband will love you and covet the whole pot, please do”.

What a perfect time to declare it to be New England clam chowder week because the temperature here in Maine has been zero degrees at night and the wind has been a howling! Recipes for chowder are pretty personal  around here. Some old salts would never use rendered bacon fat to sauté their onions in, they'd stop listening to you, roll their eyes and turn up their noses. Salt pork is how the old timers started chowder, period. Quahogs, not likely, either.

I'm telling you from experience you can't please too many people here in Maine with chowder because it's never like their mother's. Perhaps they will taste it, but if you leave the room they all will be chatting about "where did she learn to make chowder, Howard Johnson's"?  But, I'll take a shot at MY way of making it and hope that I don't take too much heat for it.

First off, you need 2 1/2 to 3 pounds of steamer clams, yup, steamers. What's a steamer clam, you ask? It's a soft shell clam that lives in sandy or muddy Atlantic shoreline. If you're lucky enough to have a choice, pick the mud clams. Nothing complicated, the mud washes away after several soakings, but God couldn't get all the grit and sand out even with an army to help. There's alway some crunchy grit left, period! Clean the fresh steamers well and go directly from the sink to a waiting large 6 quart heavy bottomed pot, turn the heat on medium and cover. You caught me, no water! Be brave...

Babka (cake) is a big part of my childhood memories.  If you don't know what babka is, I guess the best way to describe it is a very spongy, brioche-like yeast cake.  It's sweet and usually has a fruit filling such as golden raisins.  It's a very dense cake and the dough can be very finicky and easily over-mixed.

My grandmother and my mother always had a babka marathon leading up to Easter Sunday.  A recipe only makes a few loaves and it seemed 10 or 12 were always needed for family, friends and church bake sales.

Babka is definitely not for the novice baker.  It helps to make it a few times with someone who is used to working with the dough.  It's one of those doughs that benefits from a familiar touch of knowing when to stop mixing or to add more flour.

My mom had been using the same babka recipe for years, but recently we were treated to a babka made my friend's mother Sharon.  The babka was fantastic.  It was the perfect texture and sweetness and just really stood out as an excellent example of what a good Polish babka could be. 

For me there's nothing more representative of the ocean than shellfish, particularly the beautiful blue mussel. I have always had an affinity for the ocean, and before my foray into marine biology, I was first and foremost a young curious kid who avidly collected shells to learn all about them. As a kid though I wouldn't eat mussels, or any shellfish for that matter; I thought they were just too beautiful or too gross. Now I can hardly remember a time that I didn't love eating shellfish. Ever since my first time having moules marinière, I have been in love with the sweet briny flavor of mussels. With a slice of crusty bread in hand, I now dive into a bowl of mussels with conviction.

That flavor marries perfectly with white wine and garlic, the basis for preparing moules in any of the Mediterranean countries. In this recipe, I augment those traditional flavors with the addition of slowly sautéed leeks for a sweet onion flavor and a unique fresh celery-like herb, lovage. This cousin of celery most resembles a cross between celery and parsley, both in appearance and in taste. An interesting fact is that the spice commonly sold as dried celery seed is actually lovage seed. As a fresh herb, lovage lends a bright flavor to foods, and just a few sprigs can add wonderful flavor profiles to soups and stews. Here in this recipe, it replaces the more traditionally used parsley just for one final twist.