Retro Recipes and Traditional Fare

There is something indulgent about starting the day with a cup of rich dark coffee, (no cream or sugar, thank you), and a big, warm, moist scone that is loaded with dried apricots and a generous amount of big chunks of nuts and maybe, sometimes, still-soft morsels of dark chocolate that melt on the tongue with each bite.

But, the coffee must be aromatic and wonderful. These days, my morning coffee is French press. And the scone, well, it can’t be just any old scone.

The scones I eat must be my own homemade variety. Yes, they are full of fat. That’s why they are pure indulgence. And, that’s why I make them only as a special treat once in a while. But, it is the fat that makes them so moist and flavorful.

My girlfriend took one bite of these and said, “this tastes like Mac ‘n Cheese”.  Voila, the Mac ‘n Cheese cracker was born.

I had been wanting to make more savory snacks and this was a really great place to start.

What I love most about this recipe is that these can be made in big batches, baked right away or frozen for future use, making last minute entertaining, either in our own home or at others, easy and stress free.

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.

After cooking up a bunch of boneless and skinless chicken thighs the other day, I decided to turn some of them into chicken a al king. I don't know what made me think of this dish from the past – white sauce with chicken and vegetables stirred into it. For one thing, I've never really cared much for it. It brings back bad memories of creamed chipped beef and canned peas that my mom used to make when I was a child. She'd serve it over toast. The peas were mushy, the toast was soggy and the chipped beef was – well – chipped beef. I did not like it. Not one bit.

So, why would chicken a la king even drift through my mind? I used to make it every once in a while, but that was years ago. When I mentioned chicken a la king to my husband the other day, he said it had been so long since he'd even heard of it that he'd forgotten all about the creamy gravy-like dish.

I dug out my old recipe and gave it another try. I have to say that on a cool autumn evening, the dish was very satisfying. And quite tasty. I made toast cups to serve with the a la king. I didn't have one, (remember, I don't care for soggy toast) but my husband was raving about what a great match the crunchy toast cups and the hot, creamy chicken a la king were.