Retro Recipes and Traditional Fare

There is food that sustains us and then there are foods that make us happy, content and "primally" nourished. I don't eat food that has any labels or tags to read. I just eat the raw ingredient that has a little story to tell me quietly about how I should best cook it.

Whether it be vegetable or fish or meat or grain looking at it inspires me to figure out how best to prepare it in this moment. Recipes are only a guideline. It is the cook's choice to have a little fun or a burst of creativity and I guess that depends on the ingredients in front of you and how deeply you react to them.

I have to admit I am a veal chop junkie and I am verbalizing it to the world! I LOVE VEAL CHOPS, HOPELESSLY!!!  Whenever I say that, which is rarely I look around like I was talking about George W. Bush because everyone has a reaction to veal and I am sure that it isn't fifty fifty.

From the LA Times

The first time I met chef Paul Prudhomme, he was peering over the stove in his narrow test kitchen, a converted shotgun house just outside the French Quarter in New Orleans. Chef was heating oil in a large cast-iron skillet, and when he saw me, he invited me over to watch him fix gumbo.

When the oil was smoking hot, he quickly whisked in flour to form a roux — "Cajun napalm," he called it — the bubbling mass darkening to a deep chocolate brown in minutes. He stirred a trinity of vegetables into the roux to stop the cooking — onions, celery and bell peppers — then added the roux to a pot of boiling stock. Chopped andouille sausage and garlic went in as he patiently watched the stew, tasting occasionally, over a slow, quiet hour while it gently simmered away. When the rich aroma was almost too much to bear, Chef added chopped chicken, and soon the gumbo was ready.

I can't say which I savored more: the depth of flavor from a seemingly simple dish or the unhurried quiet, almost sacred, time spent preparing it.

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What is the all-time best dunking cookie? Italian biscotti. Whether it's a glass of sweet wine or a mug of steaming coffee, biscotti's firm, crunchy texture stands up to dunking like no other cookie I know.

Biscotti, (pronounced bis-caught-tee), have been around since Roman antiquity. The name is from the Latin biscoctus, meaning "twice-baked," since they were baked twice in the oven. Originally, biscotti was a practical food; because they were dry and sturdy, they were easily transportable for long journeys.

It wasn't until the Renaissance in Tuscany, that biscotti became considered a treat. They were served and often dunked in wine, such as vin santo. Because of biscotti's hard, crunchy texture, people eventually people began dunking them in hot drinks such as coffee as well.

Though original Tuscan biscotti were made with almonds, today's biscotti come in an endless array of flavors. Some are made with anise, others with coffee. Many are studded with nuts and dried fruit while others are dipped in chocolate. There really is a biscotti to please everyone.

Ahh souffles. I love them fluffy and I love them dense. I love them sweet and I love them savory. Airy chocolate ones and oozing cheesy ones...But before this turns into a souffle love letter, I have to say, I don't actually love making souffles. Too much work. Tricky ingredients. Specialized equipment. All sorts of things can throw them off, the egg whites not being whipped properly, the oven temperature not quite right, overmixing, I could go on and on. But they are so tasty, every once in a while it's worth doing anyway. Because nothing quite gives the sense of satisfaction to a cook, as a successful souffle. Making a souffle is magic.

I made a souffle I think is great for breakfast. But you could also make it as a light supper with a salad. It's an indulgent kind of meal, perfect for lazy weekends. Just make sure your dining companions are seated when it comes out of the oven; souffles waits for no one.