Retro Recipes and Traditional Fare

When I think of casseroles, I imagine layers and layers of meats and vegetables slowly cooking together until fork tender. Baeckeoffe is that casserole; it beats all other casseroles. Beef, lamb, and pork are combined with onions, leeks, and carrots, then drowned in wine, and slowly braised for hours in the oven until just perfect. Baeckeoffe, which translates to baker's oven, originates from Alsace, France, a region that has changed hands many times between France and Germany. In many ways, especially gastronomically, it maintains a German identity. Here you will find beer, sausages, sauerkraut, and vineyards growing typical German grapes like Riesling and Gewürztraminer. Many dishes are specific to this region, Baeckeoffe being one of its most famous traditional foods.

The most appealing features of the dish are its minimum supervision to make and ability to feed a large, busy family—of particular interest in olden times. As the story goes, Alsatian women would drop off their casseroles with the local baker on Monday, which was the day set aside for doing laundry. The baker, who may have had many casseroles in his oven at one time, used a rope of dough between the rim and lid of each casserole to form a tight seal and keep in moisture. The low, steady temperature of the baker's oven was the ideal environment for cooking the Baeckeoffe.

When my friend Sara from Culinerapy visited Concord, Mass. last year, she made a reader’s pilgrimage to Orchard House, the historic home of Louisa May Alcott. Since Sara and I (and half the women we know) share an abiding love for Alcott’s 1868 novel Little Women, she sent me a thoughtful souvenir: the author’s recipe for Apple Slump. It’s a homey, deliberately simple dessert, comfort cousin to fruit buckles, bettys, cobblers, grunts and pandowdys. Still, reading the calligraphy-script recipe, I could see where I might tweak it. And I thought, who am I to edit Louisa May Alcott?

Not editing, really. Finessing. Alcott may have mastered prose at the desk, but in the kitchen she was likely closer to Jo March, for whom the “bread burned black” and the “cream turned sour.” Making Apple Slump would be like cooking with Ms. Alcott’s domestically-challenged ghost, and while I cored and sliced I considered my years reading and rereading the March girls, picturing Amy’s limes, Meg’s vain high heels and lonely Jo in the attic with apples, writing and cursing scarlet fever, the villain that stole Beth. I regretted that my little tweaks – dash of vanilla, an extra apple – could not make Laurie come to his senses and dump Amy. Pecans would add crunch but they would never make Jo marry Laurie, nor bring Beth back. They’re a matter of personal taste, like my feelings about Meg wedding that dull John Brooke, and while they won’t change the story they can at least enhance Ms. Alcott’s kitchen legacy, and certainly perk up the Slump.

I've loved peanut butter sandwiches as long as I can remember. And I don't know anyone who hasn't eaten them as kids or even adults. Most people owe their school lunches to peanut butter and jelly. But somewhere down the line I had lost my interest in the sandwich and peanut butter in general.

It wasn't until my travels in England that I really had a strong craving for a real pb&j.

 For me the sandwich was never complete with just any jelly—it always had to be Concord grape jelly. I was inconsolable that in London I couldn't find a jar of Concord grape jelly (because Concord grapes are only native to America). So my only substitute was blackcurrant jam, which wasn't bad but it didn't hit the spot.

It took a trip far away from home to help me realize how much I had missed a peanut butter sandwich. 

In New York there's a place that specializes in peanut butter sandwiches. But I had never managed to eat there, that is until recently. Peanut Butter & Co. has everything a peanut butter lover could ask for in their massive variety of sandwiches all using peanut butter. But my favorite is one that the King himself loved—and by king I mean Elvis.

November 15th is National Bundt Day. Duty calls. I need to make a bundt. I am trying to stay seasonal, so what would make the most sense? You guessed it, pumpkin! When I want to make a bundt, my first stop on the internet is always Mary’s blog. She could be considered the queen of bundts and boy does she love pretty much all things bundt related.

She recently posted this recipe for Sour Cream Pumpkin Bundt which she got off of the Libby’s website. I would never in a million years think to pull something off of a branded website.

Since reading Mary’s post, I have actually perused a few of the sites, just to see what their ideas are for the holidays. Some interesting, some not so interesting. Yet, none the less, good info and always inspires new ideas.

Regardless, this cake is a winner. And as I have mentioned in the past, bundts are easy and they are always a crowd pleaser. This one certainly pleased a crowd. I made three minor alterations to the recipe. I added dried cranberries to the streusel, cut back a little on the streusel ingredients, and replaced sucanat with white sugar.

We are having friends for brunch Thanksgiving weekend. I may just have to make this again!