In 2009, I traveled to Umbria with my mother and sister on a culinary vacation. We ate at and cooked in small restaurants and homesteads; along the way, we learned techniques and recipes. One evening, we rolled up to an Agriturismo run by a woman named Elena. Elena lived alone in a small brick farmhouse surrounded by beautiful hills and a forest of olive trees. We were there to learn lasagne Bolognese–traditional with spinach pasta and besciamella heavy with nutmeg–it was rustic and delicious.
There are as many recipes for bolognese as there are cooks. This one is very simple and will work in a lasagne and as a sauce for pasta. Truth be told, many nights we eat it piled on thick slices of toasted bread topped with mounds of parmesan.
Each time I make this, I think of that wonderful holiday all those years ago. After all this time, it is still my favorite version of a classic sauce.
Simple Bolognese
Elena’s Ragu alla Bolognese
1 carrot
1 celery stalk
1 medium onion
1/2 lb ground pork
1 lb ground beef
1 cup red wine
1 cup tomato sauce
1-2 cups vegetable or meat broth
1 clove garlic–thinly sliced
extra virgin olive oil
salt and pepper to taste
Mince onion, carrot, and celery rather fine. Drop them in a pot with enough olive oil to cover the base. Don’t let them swim in the oil, but don’t skimp. Add a pinch of salt. Fry lightly for about 10-15 minutes, stirring occasionally. You do not want the vegetables to brown. Add the minced meat and mix well until the meat browns a little. Stir occasionally. When the meat is cooked, add the red wine and let it cook into the meat allowing the excess to evaporate. Add the tomato sauce, 1 cup of broth and flavor with a bit of pepper. Add the sliced garlic. Cook the sauce very slowly for 2-3 hours, covered. Stir occasionally and add additional hot broth if the meat looks dry or too thick. Use this sauce for pasta or lasagna.
Cladia Fleming’s recipe with a little update by me
My first edition of “The Last Course” by Claudia Fleming is well-used and slightly abused. The pages are spattered and worn, and the entire book looks older than its 20 years. It is a great book; if you can find it, I suggest you grab a copy.
These little cookies are delicious, just as Claudia imagined them. As one does, I am giving them a holiday gild. The glaze gives them a few extra days of “freshness” and a distinct citrus punch. Drop them onto your holiday cookie platter, gift them with your favorite tea blend, or drop a few in your glove box for any cookie-related emergency.
Gingersnaps
1 3/4 cups firmly packed dark brown sugar
1 1/2 cups unsalted butter-softened
1 large egg
1 Tbs grated (peeled) fresh ginger
1 1/2 tsp lemon zest
3 3/4 cups all-purpose flour
2 Tbs ground ginger
1 Tbs ground cinnamon
1 1/4 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp ground white pepper
1/4 tsp ground cloves
1/2 tsp kosher salt
Beat sugar and butter until smooth. Add egg, fresh ginger, and lemon zest and beat well. In a bowl, whisk together flour, ground ginger, cinnamon, baking powder, white pepper, cloves, and salt. Beat until well combined. Form into a large disk, wrap in plastic wrap, and chill for at least 4 hours or overnight.
Preheat oven to 350F. Scoop out 1 tsp of dough at a time and roll between palms. Flatten with the base of drinking glass dipped in flour. Bake 8-10 minutes until crisp or browned. Let cool completely before glazing
Lemon Glaze
2 cups powdered sugar
1 Tbs agar agar
1 Tbs lemon zest
1 Tbs lemon juice
candied ginger, slivered for decoration
Place sugar in a bowl, add the agar agar and lemon zest. Slowly add the lemon juice until you get to your desired consistency. If additional liquid is needed, use cream or water (your choice). If you make it too thin, add more powdered sugar. Dip each cookie into the glaze, add a tiny sliver of candied ginger, and let sit at room temperature until the glaze is set. Store in an airtight container at room temperature.
*if you make ahead, you can bake and freeze the cookies without glazing. Defrost and glaze.
**If you want to be very clever, sandwich a bit of ice cream between a glaze and an unglazed cookie and act like it “was nothing.”
Thomas Lux and his words of encouragement
Something about me…
because really, we who write these things, this words, these blog posts
no matter humility
are longing to share
So
Something about me
I can be very polite; my manners scream of finishing school. When I employ them
I can also be very sharp; my manners scream of an animal caged without water or light
I can be somewhere in between; delightful and distasteful in the same paragraph
My mother used to call me “the girl with the curl”
it was a poem reserved for me and all other little girls with a temper
All this has nothing to do with Thomas Lux except that it perhaps will serve to explain what happened next
For no reason other than because, I found myself with my nose a bit out of joint. It could have been the chest puffery or the perhaps the cigar puffery
there was puffery
Or it could have been the suggestion that the men gather at the bar and the wives find their way to the parlor
I think it might have been the filter of “I have more than you–which makes me better than you” through which he seems to see the world
that set me off
I managed through the use of my love for words and my appetite for words around food, to out snob the snob. Thomas Lux came to my rescue as I turned my nose at the cherries presented with the over fussy (and frankly not so enchanting) cocktail.
When I served this small sip at my Easter gathering this year, I gave it a cheeky name. It was clever, but wholly inappropriate and not for public airing. I’m serving in small coupes which are perfect for a delicate sip, but as this is delicious and refreshing, I wouldn’t blame you if you took a straw to the shaker and called it a night.
The Passion
Fill a shaker with ice. Pour in 2 ounces of vodka (i’m partial to Chopin) and 2 ounces of Chinola (passionfruit liqueur). Add a sprig of fresh thyme and a squeeze of lemon (approx teaspoonful). Put the top on securely and shake it until your arms are toned and your hands are frozen.
Strain an equal amount into 3 small coupes and top each with a generous swig of Fresca. Grab a jar of amarena cherries and tip a drop or two of the juice and a skewered cherry into each glass. If you’ve a patch of edible flowers, they make a beautiful (but not necessary) addition.
aka puddin’
I came a little late to the pudding game. If you have been following along for any amount of time, you know that I grew up in a only homemade, no convenience food home. Pudding stayed in its box, on the shelf of the grocery store. And…to be honest…whenever I had it a friend’s house, I kinda didn’t see the allure. Don’t even get me started on banana pudding–talk about gaslighting.
I knew pastry cream, because my mom would make it to put in her eclairs, but it took me a while to realize that pastry cream and pudding are basically the same. Except pastry cream uses whole milk enriched with egg yolks and butter, rather than only relying on cornstarch to thicken.
This recipe is very easy and will have you whipping up puddin’ on the daily. It is basically breakfast food
try and convince me otherwise
I enjoy it topped with gently whipped {unsweetened} cream or creme fraiche and a brandied or Amarena cherry for further indulgence
3 cups full-fat milk
3 duck egg yolks, or 5 large chicken egg yolks
1/2 cup granulated sugar
1/4 cup cornstarch
1/2 tsp kosher salt
1 tsp vanilla extract
7 oz bittersweet chocolate chips or chopped bar (63-70%)
1 oz unsalted butter at room temperature
So tell, me. Are we fans of Valentines, Galentines, Palentines Day?
I kind of am; in the way that it is hard for me to say yuck to pink and red and conversation hearts AND giant boxes of chocolates AND flowers AND testimonies of love.
I’m also kinda not. In the way that I don’t want anyone to feel obligated to spend money or insist there is a right way to spend the 14th of February
In this house, we celebrate with lunch. Sometimes it is a picnic, sometimes it is a restaurant, sometimes it is kraft mac n’ cheese while watching Newhart on DVD. Mike and I swap planning from year to year. Sometimes, we shift it to another day if something comes up or the restaurants get savvy to the tradition and only offer a special Valentine’s Day prix fix meal.
This year, I will be out of town on the 14th. Also, it lands on a day I observe a fasting tradition, so I planned Saturday lunch at a great little fish house in a nearby town. We make a little effort for Valentine’s. Even though we show our love for each other every day, we don’t show it like this. Sometimes, it is nice to shake off the norm and proclaim a day of love designed around commercialism instead of deep and abiding tolerance (she says with tongue firmly planted inside cheek).
If you feel like doing something a little extra for yourself or yourself and someone else, might I suggest a few of these fun and delicious treats?
Make a surprise visit to my place (how dare you).
Seriously, don’t.
I hate the pop-in and chances are I won’t answer the door.
You wouldn’t.
I live too far out and the idea that you would be anywhere near my place, willing to shell out the gas money, scale the fencing, make it up the drive in your fancy “city” car then get past the livestock and their guardians, is pretty much zero.
But let’s pretend that you mentioned to my husband that you were going to be in town, and he forgot to tell me. Then (and only then) I do take smug satisfaction in knowing that with a quick rummage through my pantry and a few bits from the fridge, I can put together a modest but delicious spread.
Here is the thing. I have learned over the years that having staples on hand is important, but not as important as knowing how to use them. A simple biscuit recipe can go a long way in the entertainment canon. I used this one twice in the past two days; first as breakfast with butter and jam then as a way to sop up spicy gumbo. Sometimes I add a little sugar, occasionally a heap of parmesan. The mainstay is good butter and confidence
Sour Cream Biscuits
makes 9 large or 12 modest squares
2 cups all-purpose flour
4 tsp baking powder
3/4 tsp kosher salt
1/2 tsp baking soda
6 Tbs unsalted butter cold and cut into small pieces
3/4+ cup heavy cream
1/4 cup sour cream
-Flaky sea salt to accent the top
Place the dry ingredients in a bowl. Quickly mix together to evenly distribute. Use your fingers to rub the butter into the flour (or use a pastry knife to cut it in). The goal is to have some chunks the size of garbanzos, others like a BB, and everything in between. Don’t go crazy, this should all happen quite quickly. Add the cream/sour cream and mix so that it just comes together. You may need to add more cream but don’t make a wet dough. Turn it out onto a very lightly floured surface; gently pat into the shape of a square.
Using a rolling pin, roll out to about 1/4″ thick. Fold the dough in thirds (like a letter), give it a quarter turn, roll, and fold again. Give another quarter turn, fold. Roll out into a 9-inch square (about 1/2″ thick) and cut evenly into 9 pieces.
Adequately space on a lined cookie sheet. Brush with cream and with a light hand, dust with flaky sea salt (such as Maldon). Bake at 375F until slightly past golden. Check the bottom to make sure they have color. Let cool fully or just warm. Best eaten the same day. A better idea is to, make a few batches to keep in the freezer and bake off as needed.
For a sweet version, add a few tablespoons of sugar and omit the dusting of salt–serve with creme fraiche, strawberries, brown sugar, and a touch of balsamic for an impressive afternoon tea.
One evening this summer Mike and I found ourselves in a fancy hotel bar hungry and slightly bent on strong cocktails. We had hit the bar too early for supper and too late for lunch. The bartender offered to wrangle up some smoked swordfish dip from the restaurant next door. Hazy and hungry we thought it a capital idea.
One year, well before the millennium, I spent some months working and living in a beach community in North Carolina. It seemed every restaurant had an award winning crab dip recipe they were eager to highlight. I fell for it every time but never was all that impressed. With that in the back of my mind, I was pretty sure, the fancy bar swordfish dip was going to be more of the same heavy on the mayo, scorched under the grill, molten cheese fonduta. Not complaining, but low expectations.
I was wrong. Dead wrong. It was delicious and haven’t stopped thinking about it yet. Fast forward a few months and I was presented with a similar made with smoked trout. Light on the mayo, served chilled with salty crackers it rang a bit different than the swordfish, but just as delicious. At the New Year I thought it time to crack on with coming up with my own version of a smoked fish dip.
What I like about this dip is that it isn’t “dippy”. The fish is the star of the show and keeping it in larger chunks with a light hand on the “dressing” keeps this on the lighter (and dare I say) healthier side. Measurements are approximate. Guide yourself on your personal taste…and in order to do that, you need to taste as you go. Be warned, smoked fish can be very salty…keep that in mind as you add ingredients that may also be salty. The creme fraiche in this recipe will help tame the brine, but if you taste as you go you can help mitigate having to play the balance game.
If you use a tinned fish packed in oil, draw off as much of the oil as possible, but don’t worry about blotting the fish. Some oil is fine and will add a nice touch to your dip. If you are using refrigerated fish, make sure, when you pick it, that you discard any of the pin bones and skin.
Smoked Trout Dip
8 oz smoked trout–picked through and left in nice-sized pieces
1/4 cup celery–minced
1/4 cup green onions (white and light green parts)–minced
1/8 cup finely chopped parsley
2 Tbs chopped chives
zest from 1/2 lemon
For Dressing
2 Tbs prepared horseradish
1/4 cup mayo
1/4 cup creme fraiche
2 Tbs pickle juice
1/2 tsp garlic powder
1/2 tsp onion powder
1/4 tsp paprika
1/4 tsp white pepper
3-4 shakes green tabasco (more to serve)
Pick through the trout discarding skin and any pin bones you may find. Drop into a bowl. Add the celery, green onion, parsley, chives, and lemon zest. Lightly stir to not “mush” up the fish. In another bowl, whisk the horseradish, mayo, creme fraiche, pickle juice, garlic powder, onion powder, paprika, and white pepper. Taste. Add a couple of shakes of the green Tabasco. Taste and adjust. Being prudent, add to the fish in increments. You only want enough dressing to coat the ingredients well, not drench them. If you have dressing left, it makes a nice sandwich spread (more on that in a minute).
Pop in the refrigerator for the flavors to meld and chill. Best eaten on the day it is made and tastes delicious on simple saltine crackers. Serve with (green) Tabasco.
Will last another day or two in the refrigerator.
If you like a hot melty sandwich, any leftovers of this will do right by you. Use any leftover dressing as a sandwich spread. If you don’t have any left, a good dollop of mayo will do. Pile with trout dip, top with a nice melty cheese like Gruyere, pop it in the oven until it is hot, the bread is crispy, and the cheese is just threatening to roll off the mound. Sling a few shakes of the Tabasco and thank me later.
The small suburb of Los Angeles where I spent my youth was a bedroom community with nice plots and manicured front lawns. Children were everywhere and we all seemed to be just about the same age. Most everyone was a transplant from the East or Midwest, so to stave off suburban boredom, our moms would conspire; making plans for treks to the beach, the mountains, the desert, museums, theme parks, and everything in between. A favorite place which was annual event (including the time I had a terrible toothache and was being melodramatic in the back of the station wagon) was what we called Apple Country. It has been over 30 years, but I’ve been chasing the memories ever since.
I am someone who cannot resist (and why should I?) a long country road, a farmstand, or a run-down shack with a hand-lettered sign selling ANYTHING. If it is open, I’m stopping; apple farms included. Freshly pressed cider and warm donuts made with it is a fall treat that everyone should be so lucky to come upon.
We are not an apple farm. We grow apples, but none more than to press for our use and to make the odd batch of donuts or two. Sometimes our neighbors will off load a few tons of fallen fruit for us to feed our pigs; and truth be told we skim off the mildly bruised and press those into juice as well. We have our own small press and it is a handcrafted machine that I, with just a few hours of bending, twisting, and turning, can turn a dozen pecks of apples into gallons of cider. We pull it out Mid-October, and return it to storage by Thanksgiving.
While the act of pressing cider isn’t quite as magical as an outing with neighbors eating apple pie, donuts, ice cream, butter, and cider made by someone else’s hand without any concern of calories or affect, it brings me joy. Through the course of fall, I will make all of the things and I will eat all of the same; just not in one sitting.
Where a rye old-fashioned donut meets the classic cocktail
Listen, I am a donut person. As a self-proclaimed donut person, I can, with much authority, tell you that not all donuts are equal. You can line a path with warm raised, and I could easily crawl through, nose to the ground, without even stopping for a sniff. Switch them out with buttermilk bars, glazed old-fashioneds, even a jimmie-covered cake, and I’ll have crumbs in my hair within minutes.
The old-fashion cocktail has been having its moment lately, and its flavor profile quite nicely translates to the sweet side. Use a nice rye and fancy cherries to up the snob factor.
Old Fashion Donut
1/2 cup pumpernickel rye flour–toasted
2 3/4 tsp baking powder
1/4 tsp baking soda
1 1/2 tsp kosher salt
3/4 tsp ground nutmeg
4 Tbs unsalted butter-melted
1/2 cup packed dark brown sugar
1/2 cup granulated sugar
2 Tbs rye syrup (see note)
1 large egg
3 large egg yolks
3/4 cup buttermilk
Mix the dry ingredients: flour, baking powder, baking soda, salt, nutmeg and set aside. In a stand mixer, using the paddle attachment, beat the butter and sugars until fully incorporated but not yet fluffy. Beat in the egg, egg yolks, and rye syrup and mix until they lighten. Add the flour and buttermilk alternately, beginning and ending with the flour. Scrape from the bowl onto a lightly floured workspace. Form into a square, wrap in plastic, and place in the refrigerator to rest for at least 1 hour or as long as overnight.
When ready to make the donuts, remove the dough from the refrigerator onto a lightly floured surface. Dust the top with flour and roll out to 3/4″. Cut into bars. Using the back of a knife or a bench scraper, make a deep line down the length of the bar, careful not to cut all the way through. Place back into the refrigerator until ready to fry.
Place enough oil in a heavy pan to at least 2″. Heat oil to 325F. Remove the dough from the refrigerator and fry in small batches, remembering that the cold dough will reduce the oil heat. Let the oil come back to temperature between batches. Fry for about 2-3 minutes on each side. The internal temperature of the donut should be 185-190F. Place on a cooling rack. Dip in the old-fashioned glaze.
Once the glaze is hardened, decorate with amarena or luxardo cherry and candied orange piece.
Rye Syrup
1 cup rye
1/4 cup (or so) candied orange peel
2 Tbs lemon-lime soda (optional)
Pour the rye and soda into a saucepan and add the candied orange peel. Heat over low heat for a minute, turn off the burner, and light the liquid on fire. Let the flame go out naturally. Remove the orange peel and place it in a dish of granulated sugar. Coat and use to decorate completed donuts. Use in donut dough and glaze.
Old Fashion Glaze
3 cups powdered sugar
1 Tbs tsp agar agar*
3 shakes of Angostura bitters
few drops of Fiori di Sicilia or a bit of orange zest
rye syrup
Place the powdered sugar and agar agar (if using) into a bowl. Add the Angostura bitters and the flavoring (and/or zest) and mix well. Add enough rye syrup to make a glaze slightly thinner than heavy cream.
*I use agar agar for my powdered sugar glazes as it hastens the hardening of the glaze. It can be an allergen, so use it with caution.