Retro Recipes and Traditional Fare

I had a cooking breakthrough this past week that I want to share with you. Because Jill is eating more and more veganly and handling a lot of her own shopping and preparation, I end up cooking a lot of dishes for myself. And I’m finding this has liberated me in a number of ways.

Instead of measuring or checking the recipe for amounts, I just say to myself, “How much of that do I feel like today?” And I throw in just that much.

Without having to worry about this person’s salt problem, that person’s meat problem, this person’s wheat allergy, that person’s fat phobia – my dishes are turning out just the way I like them.

A recent carbonara is a perfect example: Carbonara is an emotional dish – it’s bacon and eggs, on pasta, with cheese, with lots of black pepper.

One theory is that the name “carbonara,” which means, “in the style of the coal-workers” really comes from the fact that the black pepper scattered on top looks like coal dust. I’m going with that theory. I think a lot of pepper makes this dish.

Allora.

I make soup every Sunday. Along with my pre-made grains, a legume, some roasted chicken(or sauteed sausages), cleaned and prepped veggies, soup is always simmering on Sunday mornings. I meal plan. Shopping lists are written on Fridays, shopping is done on Saturday, thus the organization begins. Simply, it makes weeknight meals easier, quicker, and nutritious.

Soups are the best way to use up those veggies that get somewhat neglected or pushed aside in your vegetable drawer. Soup is one of those versatile meals, served with a salad one has the perfect meal. Barley soup is made with homemade chicken stock,prosciutto, leeks, potatoes, carrots, and celery. Before serving, I add some sauteed chicken sausage and chopped chard. Lentil soup is a staple and corn chowder is household favorite.

But, it’s my tortilla soup that is number one on the soup list. This soup was conceived over 20 years ago while spending weekends on a friends estate in Jackson Hole, Wyoming. In the winter months, I would occasionally ski, but it was nesting in their cozy home that I embraced most. Summers were spent on the lake, hiking, horseback riding, and eating; lots and lots of eating. It was one of those lazy days, reading and napping. Dinner was approaching so I accessed the provisions. Onions, garlic, tomatoes, chicken, stock, spices, tortillas, and an avocado. I started chopping, roasting, mincing and my tortilla soup was born.

“We would have salmon croquettes and biscuits for lunch or finely-chopped roast, drizzled in au jus gravy and bourbon colored syrup and eat the meals with delight. As domestic deity, Mary was unrivaled.” – From my memoirs...

Mrs. Mary made salmon croquettes for lunch for us many times during my childhood. Often during the summer when we were out of school and in her hair, she’d send us to the garden to pick vegetables and then we’d “help” her make lunch.

Her croquettes were more so of a crispy salmon patty, not greasy, and wonderfully delicious. Many times we would have sliced cucumbers and Vidalia’s in vinegar with them or some other fresh veggie medley...okra and tomatoes, skillet corn, or browned squash.

I’ve often tried to recreate hers, and, as with her biscuits, I just don’t hit the mark. I have discovered, though, a modern twist on this classic that is quite divine. My Mimi, a fantastic cook herself, had a hankering for salmon croquettes and I was glad to oblige – wanting to try a twist on croquettes, we began thinking...a dangerous kitchen pastime!

A couple of summer months filled with many beachside lunches of paella so good and so long ago that I am still chasing the memories of a perfect paella. My sister and I were in the Catalonian village of Arenys de Mar for a good part of the summer. On the wide, white beach surrounded by rugged hills were a handful of rustic 'restaurants' that made only paella over wood fires. They were makeshift structures covered with bright pieces of miss-matched canvas tacked down to keep the strong Spanish sun and ocean breeze at bay. These little makeshift restaurants were always busy for lunch, the only meal that they served and I had my favorite one.

The beach side paella restaurateurs were waiting like gulls as the little boats motored back to port around 10 o’clock in the morning. Each boat filled with the fresh caught fish and shellfish still moving violently seeking to be set free. There was fish to fillet and chunk, stock to make, onions and peppers to chop and most importantly the wood-fire had to be started, time was of the essence.

My favorite restaurant had a round stone fire pit built on the sand. A variety of wood collected from the beach was piled into the pit covering yesterday's scrunched up newspaper which was barely visible in the center. A wooden match was struck and the day's cooking commenced. When the flames burned down, the cook balanced a grill on top of the stone pit.