Comfort Foods and Indulgences

People are surprised when they discover I don’t care for mushrooms. I’ve had difficulty getting enthusiastic about the earthy-flavored fungus from the forest. I haven’t developed an appreciation for their texture that feels like rubber bands in my mouth.

My repugnance toward mushrooms took a surprising turn last Friday evening when I had my first taste of freshly foraged chanterelles.

I was in Duluth for a weekend of touring urban vegetable gardens and dining on remarkable food with friends, all of us members of the Minneapolis-St. Paul chapter of Les Dames d’Escoffier International (LDEI). Les Dames, as members affectionately refer to the organization, is a world wide philanthropic society of professional women leaders in the fields of food, fine beverage and hospitality.

I was staying at the home of Beatrice and Dick Ojakangas, tucked into a wooded acreage in the countryside several miles outside the city of Duluth.

You’ve seen recipes for triple chocolate cookies, right? Well, why not triple peanut butter cookies?

I come from a long line of peanut butter-lovers. My uncle was so consumed with the creamy, sticky stuff, he named his dog Skippy. My mom made sandwiches with peanut butter so thick, each bite would take several minutes to finally swallow, let alone try to get a word out.

I grew up on my mom’s peanut butter cookies. They were crunchy and sweet and the little criss-cross marks made with a fork on the top of each cookie glistened with crystals of sugar.

Of course, I married a peanut butter-lover. Nothing makes him happier than a bag of chocolate peanut butter cups.

When I discovered the bags of Reese’s mini peanut butter cups at the store, I knew at least one bag of the adorable, bite-sized p.b. cups would go home with me to get chopped up and stirred into cookies. And how easy it is to do, because the tiny chocolate peanut butter cups come unwrapped.

Cheddar is one of the most popular cheeses in the world and one of my favorites. It originally came from Somerset, in England but is now produced in many  parts of the English speaking world and beyond. But only 14 makers are licensed to use the EU Protected Designation of Origin “West Country Farmhouse Cheddar” which indicates it's still made in the traditional way.

The process for making cheddar is similar to other cow's milk cheeses, with the addition of a unique process that has taken on the name "cheddaring." Slabs of curd are stretched, then piled on top of each other to help drain the whey. This helps to harden the cheese and develop acidity and flavor. Farmhouse cheddars are traditionally wrapped in cloth and then aged. Good English cheddar should be buttery and nutty in flavor and should have a soft crumbly texture. Cheddar improves with age, developing those crunchy crystals of calcium lactate you find in other aged cheese, like Parmigiano Reggiano.

I recently got a chance to try some Westminster cheddar, and am happy to report that it is very widely available in supermarkets. Westminster aged cheddar cheese is made on England’s oldest cheddar making farm in North Somerset only 15 miles from the village of Cheddar. The Barber family has been making cheddar since 1833 and is reputedly to be the oldest cheddar making family in the world.

We made these for a crowd and watched them vanish in five minutes…My husband and I do not need brownies; we’ve eaten enough of them already to meet our lifetime quota and to account for certain body changes that I will not describe here. But Tom is a hopeless chocoholic, so on the occasions when I make brownies to curry favor with my kids’ friends, I have to keep an eye on them.

For a long time, when brownies disappeared from the cooling rack and my husband seemed the obvious perpetrator, he would issue a denial and look meaningfully in the direction of Oliver, our dog. So I thought the golden retriever was both amazingly athletic (how did he reach the brownies I placed behind the kitchen sink?) and had a remarkable tolerance for chocolate, a substance that is notorious for making dogs ill.

But then, on a recent occasion, I left a hot brownie batch on the counter to cool and took Oliver for a walk. When I returned and noticed that the baking pan was half empty, I did a breathalizer test on napping Tom. Sure enough: chocolate breath. (And a messy crime scene: brown crumbs on the sofa.)