Comfort Foods and Indulgences

Levi has been begging for brownies. I had to honor his wish. Upon walking up to my large bookcase that holds my vast collection of cook books, it was Ad Hoc at Home that jumped out at me. I turned to the back of the book and I instantly opened the page to the brownies.  I had no choice. Along with laundry, preparing my meals for the week, brownies had become part of my Sunday morning routine.

Brownies are effortless. One bowl, few ingredients, a pan of some sort, and a short baking time. Unlike cookies, where every seven minutes you have to rotate the sheets, scoop and drop your batter, brownies are the equivalent to a one pot dish.

I have made a lot of brownies in my day, but these are not only super moist, but light and fudgy all at the same time.  So, I say thank you to Levi for making me cook from this book that I don’t nearly use enough and for sharing your smile when you walked into the kitchen that morning, bed hair and all!

“So I’ve been eating butter.” I said this to some friends in Alexandria, Virginia the other weekend and they stared and laughed at me when I revealed this fact. Yes, I’ve been eating butter. I’ve sampled it plain, cold, room temp, melted, salted and unsalted, cooked and clarified. I have also scheduled an EKG, stat!

Growing up enthralled with all things pertaining to food, I have instinctively and educationally been instilled with the how’s, when’s, and why’s concerning butter. True, it IS a Southern staple, but every region and culture has a form of this delectable condiment and ingredient. The Brits, the French, the Danes and Italians all boast their own better butter and in my lovely corner of the world, I wanted to very well understand and comprehend why I like the butters I use.

I have watched Mimi, Mrs. Mary, and Mama throw in butter here and there, melt it down, dice and cube it for pie crust, garnish biscuits with pats of it, and even top off filets with a dab just before removing them from the iron skillet or grill. I have listened to Granddaddy’s stories from his childhood on milking the cows and churning said milk into butter. Butter “back in the good ol’ days” was moreover a country family’s chore or farming family’s answer to “what to do with all this fresh milk?” Cows had to be milked and nothing was wasted…butter could be consumed and stored for a bit. City and townsfolk had to buy their butter –those living in bucolical settings made it!

Lobster's back. First there was creamy lobster risotto for Father's Day. Now it's Lobster Fra Diavolo, a treasured Italian-American dish characterized by a spicy sauce for pasta or seafood.

Fra Diavolo, was the king of pasta in the 1990's. (I know this because it was Jeff's favorite entree to order at a "nice" restaurant when we were dating.)

The last time Jeff ate lobster fra diavolo, Whitney Houston's "I Will Always Love You" was a number one hit. Though Jeff will always love lobster fra diavolo, he doesn't feel similarly toward Whitney, so I decided not to invite her to our lobster dinner.

I played Sinatra, our oldest and most favorite crooner, instead because Italian food always tastes better with ol' blue eyes.

I like Worcestershire Sauce.  I admit it.  One of the things I like about it is its name – how it was that extra thing in it – wor-cest-er-(shur)-ire sauce. I like the bottle, how it comes wrapped almost like a present.  It’s almost a guilty pleasure, a secret ingredient that you don’t necessarily want to reveal, like sugar in spaghetti sauce, or sour cream in anything, or ketchup on a steak which I don’t feel guilty about, at all. 

I don’t pour Worcestershire Sauce on top of steaks and grill them, the way my Dad used to in the backyard.  But sometimes I just have to make my mother’s cottage cheese dip.  It’s really great.  And it’s really soothing.  And I fool myself into thinking that it might even be good for you, well, sort of.  But take my advice, if anyone asks you what’s in it, you might consider saying, “You don’t want to know.”