The Road Taken

I started writing this post over a month ago. Since then I have started and stopped quite a few times. Then I just stopped. And stared. Nothing. Then I started again, but didn't know where to take it. I wasn't sure why. Normally once I start something, anything, I stay right with it until I finish. But this one is different. Change is afoot.

Like many writers, I often grapple with how much, or how little, to expose about myself here. To you. I like to talk, I like to tell stories, I like to share. It helps me process. It helps me see. I used to be religious about writing in my journals, almost excessively some days. In a sense, this has become my journal. The big difference is there is now an audience. An audience with reactions I cannot gauge while I 'talk'. For the most part I keep things on the lighter side, but I assure you that this voice is mine and mine alone. If you met me, that would be clear within moments. This voice is more disciplined, however, and part of an identity I am able to control.

Here I tell you about me, but within the framework of food and within the realm of my kitchen, or, perhaps, someone else's kitchen. I will tell you about Fred, or Besito, or anecdotes about any number of members of my family and certainly friends that come in and out of the spotlight at any particular time. And from all of that, and the years we've known one another, I can imagine you have gleaned quite a bit about me.

I have been hinting about some big news and I'm finally ready to tell you about it. At the end of September, after twelve years in the City of Angels I will be moving back home. And by home I mean Richmond, Virginia. I will not be alone, however. My love, Fred and our pups, Besito, Eduardo and our newest addition, Byron, will all be moving together. Our little family is going to join my Richmond family and the horizon is enormous.

I am not sure if you knew this, because I know I've never told you, but I have owned a dog walking businessfor the past decade. It has been quite successful and very good to me. This business has been the most solid, consistent, dependable and reliable thing I have known during my life in Los Angeles.

So, at almost forty years old, I am selling my business and am moving clear across the country. To do what? I'm not entirely certain, but the idea is a lot more of this. Writing. Cooking. Eating. Food. Recipes. Pictures. With Fred.

And there you have it.

I feel a little bit naked now. But good naked.

And relieved.

One very, very fun and exciting part of all of this is the actual journey. We will be driving and taking our time. Specifically, this will be a culinary journey from California to Virginia with a huge focus on the South. In the cities where we don't know people, we hope to rely on folks we know via social media to assist us in finding our next meal, or interview, or as Fred wants to do, a place for us to cook with locals; both home and professional chefs, and in both homes and restaurants. Part of the thrill of our cross country trip is the serendipity involved. We know that we will have food adventure and discovery that we are not even aware of at this moment. The best part is that we will be documenting everything as we go along.

I hope all of you get involved. Tell us where to go and what to eat. Better yet, if our paths cross, let us meet! And cook! And eat! Let's all do this together, shall we?

And, OMG, what should our hashtag be?!

In honor of this post I thought long and hard about what dish to share with y'all. Fred suggested I make something I've never made before, in the spirit of the unknown road ahead (very Robert Frost of him). I wanted to do something that represents what is happening with food here in LA then and now, so to speak, and food that signifies where I'm from and where I'm going: The South.

I settled on what I will call a Low Country Benedict: fried green tomatoes with Smithfield ham, poached eggs and a pimiento cheese hollandaise. Oddly, I have never made fried green tomatoes. And this summer my fecund garden is bursting with tomatoes – red, yellow, orange and green. When I think of eggs Benedict I think of the LA from the eighties, think LA Story and people lingering over coffee, mimosas and bloody marys and fancy, bougie French fare wearing sunglasses, white linen and big hats. That said, southern food is so, so, very, very en vogue here in LA (and everywhere) right now. Think Willie Jane and The Hart and the Hunter's entire menu, , A-Frame's fried chicken picnic, Son of a Gun's pimiento cheese with Ritz crackers, Lucques' annual rib-fest, everyone's deviled eggs, and so on. And perhaps most obviously, fried green tomatoes are, and have been for quite some time, very prominent in the south.

And so without further ado...

Fried Green Tomato Benedict with Smithfield Ham & Pimiento Cheese Hollandaise

Makes 4 servings

Ingredients

4 thin slices of Smithfield ham

2 tablespoons chopped chives, for garnish

4 eggs

2 teaspoons white or rice vinegar

4 large slices of fried green tomatoes

Salt & freshly cracked pepper

Pimiento Cheese Hollandaise

8 tablespoons (1 stick) unsalted butter

4 egg yolks

1 tablespoon lemon juice

4 teaspoons powdered cheddar cheese (found in your standard mac n' cheese package)

1 4 ounce jar of pimientos, chopped

Dash of cayenne or tabasco

Dash of Worcestershire sauce

Salt to taste

Directions

Start with the fried green tomatoes. Recipe below. Once they're cooked, keep them in the oven on warm until you're ready to assemble the dish.

Next bring a large saucepan two-thirds-filled with water to a boil, then add the vinegar. Bring the water to a boil again, then lower the heat to a bare simmer.

Make the pimiento cheese hollandaise. Vigorously whisk together egg yolks and lemon juice in a stainless steel bowl until the mixture is thickened and doubled in volume. Place the bowl over a saucepan containing barely simmering water (or use a double boiler); the water should not touch the bottom of the bowl. Continue to whisk rapidly. Be careful not to let the eggs get too hot or they will scramble. Slowly drizzle in the melted butter and continue to whisk until the sauce is thickened and doubled in volume. Remove from heat, whisk in powdered cheese a teaspoon at a time, Worcestershire sauce and cayenne. Stir in the pimientos. Cover and place in a warm spot until ready to use for the eggs Benedict. If the sauce gets too thick, whisk in a few drops of warm water before serving. Salt to taste

Poach the eggs. Here is  an easy method for poaching eggs. Essentially, working one egg at a time, crack an egg into a small bowl and slip into the barely simmering water. Once it begins to solidify, slip in another egg, until you have all four cooking. Turn off the heat, cover the pan, and let sit for 4 minutes. (Remember which egg went in first, you'll want to take it out first.) When it comes time to remove the eggs, gently lift out with a slotted spoon. Note that the timing is a little variable on the eggs, depending on the size of your pan, how much water, how many eggs, and how runny you like them. You might have to experiment a little with your set-up to figure out what you need to do to get the eggs exactly the way you like them.

Gently remove the eggs from the poaching water and set in a bowl. 

To assemble the eggs Benedict, put two fried green tomatoes on each plate and top each with a thin slice of Smithfield ham. You can trim the ham to fit the tomato if you’d like. Put a poached egg on top of the ham, pour hollandaise over. Top with sprinkles of chives and fresh cracked black pepper. Serve at once.

Fried Green Tomatoes

Ingredients

1  large egg, lightly beaten  

1/2 cup  buttermilk

1/2 cup  all-purpose flour, divided

1/2 cup  cornmeal

1 teaspoon  salt

1/2 teaspoon  pepper

1/4 teaspoon red pepper flakes

3  medium-size green tomatoes, cut into 1/3-inch slices

Vegetable oil

Bacon drippings

Salt to taste

Directions

Combine egg and buttermilk; set aside.

Combine 1/4 cup all-purpose flour, cornmeal, 1 teaspoon salt, red pepper flakes, and pepper in a shallow bowl or pan.

Dredge tomato slices in remaining 1/4 cup flour; dip in egg mixture, and dredge in cornmeal mixture.

Pour oil/bacon dripping to a depth of 1/4 to 1/2 inch in a large cast-iron skillet; heat to 375°. Drop tomatoes, in batches, into hot oil, and cook 2 minutes on each side or until golden. Drain on paper towels or a rack. Sprinkle hot tomatoes with salt.

Printable recipe.

One year ago: Anuradha Rice

Two years ago: Yerp: Part 7 - The End.

Three years ago: Great Balls on Tires

Four years ago: For the love of TOMATOES!

White Beans with Prosciutto

For dinner it always seems like I work really hard on a main dish, but then my side dishes always end up being...how you say...LAME.  It usually ends up being a mess of veggies roasted on a cookie sheet, or on my most desperate nights, some medley from a can or frozen bag.  I let it pass on the merit that we actually have some sort of green on our plate at all, but sometimes it's nice to have a thought out side dish to really complete the meal.

I rarely serve beans as a side dish, which is a shame, because they're awesome.  They're creamy, filling and lend themselves to a ton of possibilities.  I loved these white beans with prosciutto.  They are packed with flavor, but aren't too overpowering to sit alongside the main course.  The fresh herbs and white wine make them taste very fresh and bright, with just a hint of smoky/salty from the prosciutto.  Enjoy!

White Beans with Prosciutto
From The New Way to Cook Light

Ingredients

2 teaspoons extra virgin olive oil
1/4 cup finely chopped red onion
2 teaspoons minced fresh garlic
1/2 teaspoon minced fresh rosemary
2 tablespoons dry white wine
3 tablespoons fat-free chicken broth
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
1 can cannellini beans, rinsed and drained
2 tablespoons chopped fresh parsley
1 ounce thinly sliced prosciutto, chopped

Directions

Heat a large skillet over medium heat.  Add oil to pan; swirl to coat.  Add onion to pan; saute 2 minutes.  Add garlic and rosemary; saute 30 seconds.  Add wine; cook until liquid evaporates.  Add broth, pepper, and beans; cook 3 minutes or until beans are thoroughly heated.  Stir in parsley adn prosciutto.

Serves 4: 1 serving is 1/3 cup

Per Serving: 94 cal, 31g fat, 5.9g prot, 10g carb, 2.9g fiber

Leftovers

Christmas has come and gone. The gifts have been thought out, purchased, wrapped, received, unwrapped and put away. The guests have come and gone. What remains, however, is a lot of leftovers. Fred and I have done all sorts of things imaginable with all of the leftovers in the fridge - the most creative being a shepherd pie of sorts. We took the leftover prime rib, chopped it up with some carrots, celery and red wine and turned it into a boeuf bourguignon. Then we took the scraps leftover from the domino potatoes, boiled them and made a mash. We put the remains of the winter greens gratin in the mash and stirred it all together. Then we put the bourguignon in a casserole, topped it with the mash and baked it. That was dinner one night. And a snack the next day. The funny thing is that now we have that leftover in the fridge.


I feel like Sisyphus, but my rock is leftover food. Actually, my rock is the ham. We weren’t entirely certain we would have enough food to feed our seven, possibly eight, guests for Christmas dinner (a thought, that in hindsight, was absurd) so we asked Fred’s mom’s boyfriend to bring a ham (he had offered). Needless to say, the ham never even saw the dinner table on Christmas as we had an over abundance of food.


So I sent everyone home with some ham that night. And the next day there were ham sandwiches. And some ham biscuits the day after that. We even had ham and eggs for breakfast the next morning.


But even yesterday, when I opened the fridge, the ham was still there. And a lot of it. I wanted to get the hock to make ham and beans, but there was still so much ham left to use. So, I did what I often do in these situations; I called Mom. You see, my mom makes a killer ham salad.


My mom is also moving back to Virginia in less than two weeks. So right now, any excuse to see, or talk to her is welcomed. In fact, lately, we’ve been talking about five or six times a day. Yesterday it was about ham salad. She told me her recipe and her technique, and while Fred watched football in the den, I took every last shred of meat on that ham, got two chefs knives, and went cray cray on some ham salad. My mom told me Uncle Dougerton especially loves her ham salad, so I delivered some to him today. I also took some to my girls at Lindy & Grundy, since they love anything my mom makes.


Today is New Year’s Eve, and I’m sitting on the sofa, writing this, completely swaddled in the blanket my mom knitted me for this Christmas. She has been working on it for well over a year and it shows. It’s huge. It’s like twenty feet long huge. It’s bright and colorful and filled with different textures and shapes. I know it will be in my life forever. My kids and grandkids will love this blanket. I look at the blanket and I know she touched, and thought about, and poured love into every thread, every millimeter of it. Did she know what she was giving me right before she is moving away? My favorite leftover of them all. An heirloom.


And this recipe for ham salad.

Kathy's Deviled Ham Salad

Ingredients:
2 cups ham, really finely chopped
1/4 cup sweet onion, finely diced
1/4 cup celery, finely diced
1 large dill pickle, diced
3 tablespoons mayo
1 teaspoon dijon mustard
Dash of sherry vinegar
Salt and black pepper to taste


Directions:
Mix all the ingredients together until blended but not too smooth as you want a bit of texture. Taste and adjust any seasoning or add more mayonnaise if you like. A little drizzle of pickle juice is excellent as well.


Yield: About 3 cups. Keeps in the refrigerator for a few days.

Printable recipe.


One year ago: Domino potatoes
Two years ago: Linguine with pancetta mushroom cream sauce
Three years ago: 2009: The Year of the Food Truck

Chicken Provolone

I find weeknight meals to be a bit tricky sometimes.  After a long busy day, I rarely want to spend an hour plus in the kitchen.  However, I also don't want to always be turning to boxed pizzas or takeout whenever I've had a long day.  I just want a delicious, home cooked meal that I can whip up in twenty minutes or less, with little cleanup afterwards.  Is that asking too much?

The good news is, thanks to amazing bloggers such as yourselves, AND an endless variety of cookbooks and magazines, there are a ton of ideas out there.  This I found from an old Taste of Home magazine that I'd managed to hold on to.  Seasoned chicken breast, baked with basil, ham and provolone makes for a gooey and flavorful main dish.  Throw in some rice and a side of seasonal fruit and dinner is served in no time.  Now, back to homework, dishes, reading to the kids, cleaning the house, bathtime...

Chicken Provolone
Taste of Home, Healthy Cooking July 2008

Ingredients

4 skinless boneless chicken halves 4 oz each
1/4 teaspoon pepper
cooking spray
8 fresh basil leaves
4 thin slices prosciutto or deli ham
4 slices Provolone cheese

Directions

1.  Sprinkle chicken with pepper.  In a large nonstick skillet coated with cooking spray, cook chicken over medium heat for 4-5 minutes on each side or until juices run clear.

2.  Transfer to an ungreased baking sheet: top with basil, prosciutto and cheese.  Broil 6-8 minutes or until cheese is melted.

To Everything, There Is A Season.

According to my calendar it is officially Fall. But according to the thermometer, leveling at a tranquil 90 degrees today (or, it was when I started writing this), it is still very much Summer. Most people don’t think LA really has seasons, but we do. The changes are subtle and nuanced for the most part: June Gloom and the ocean layer, the smell of Night Blooming Jasmine, a shift in the quality of light, the Santa Ana winds (and the wildfires fires that follow), and perhaps most obviously, the produce at the markets. The Halloween (and some Thanksgiving) decorations are in the stores and all my magazines are showing up in my mailbox with pumpkins, fall leaves and all manner of oranges and browns on their covers. Except Vogue.  You can always tell it’s the beginning of Fall when you get the tome that is the Fall Fashion issue of Vogue. Tolstoy, step aside.

This is my favorite time of year. I never liked back to school (except the movie), but I always loved back to school shopping. Trapper Keepers, pens, notebooks, rulers, I coveted them all. Argyle, wool, jaunty hats, layers, scarves - who doesn’t get excited for all that? And, though we don’t exactly get vibrant yellow, orange, and red leaves falling from trees here in LA, we do have little pockets, stretches of streets that give us but a glimpse of that. Most of Halloween was filmed less than a mile from my house. And that’s certainly all Fall-y looking. But I can’t lie, I miss the East Coast this time of year. I would love to feel that clean, crisp bite of cool air on the tip of my nose as I walk down the street on my way to meet friends for a welcoming glass of red wine and perhaps a cheese plate. Wearing some cute, little layered number. With my Trapper Keeper.

This always seemed like it would be the best time of year to fall in love. Actually, I suppose it was this time last year that I did just that.

This year, ushering in Fall, has been a bit wonky. Which is why, perhaps, I have been seriously absent here in my blogland. Beso, my dog, my baby boy, my mascot, and my constant companion for the past twelve years, is sick. Again. He has had the worst luck in the huge-things-that-can-go-wrong-in-the-health department. And he is one tough nut. This sick is a bad one and one that will always be with us from here on out. Poor little guy just has too big of a heart. Literally. Anyway, he’s standing strong and getting even more mountains of love than usual, so we won’t dwell on that anymore here.

As an adult, the thing that I geek out about the most with that which is Fall is that it lends itself perfectly to my kind of cooking. I like to cook big. And not just quantity, I like to cook big, comfortable, classy, confident and strong food. I’ve said it before, food that loves. Food that hugs. And even though the past week has been hotter than the devil’s oven, I just couldn’t help myself - I made lasagne and then I slow roasted a chicken for five hours. Additionally, I’ve got all the fixins to make another lasagne with butternut squash and rapini. In the lineup this week I will also be making a chili and the most exciting thing, a Lima bean and ham hock pot, with a real, Southern Smithfield ham. I see lots and lots of brown butter and sage on my horizon. And pasta. And red, red wine. And snuggling with my Autumn love, Fred, my spunky, firecracker of a pup, Eduardo, and my sweet, little Beso - who, I suppose is in the Autumn of his years. And sort of looks like a Lima bean. 

Ham Hock & Lima Beans

Serves 8-10 (12?)

1 Large, meaty ham hock

3 Cloves garlic, minced

2 Medium onions, chopped

2 Lbs. dried large Lima beans

3-4 Stalks celery, cut into pieces

4-5 Carrots, cut into pieces

2 Bay leaves

Celery salt to taste

Kosher salt & fresh , black pepper to taste

Clean and soak Limas. Drain and rinse beans.

Cover beans and ham hock with water, add onion, bay leaves and garlic and simmer until tender (about 2 hours). Add celery, celery salt and carrots for last hour of cooking. When ham is done, and falling off the bone, remove from pot and cool. Remove skin and bone and cut into bite-size pieces. Return to pot and continue cooking until beans are done.

Salt and pepper to taste.

Serve with a crust of bread and a big glass of big, red wine. Or a hearty stout. Enjoy!

Printable recipe.


One year ago: Cousin Flonnie's Spoon Bread
Two years ago: Spaghetti & Meatballs
Three years ago: Roasted Cauliflower Soup with Saffron & Asiago Cheese Crisps

To Everything, There Is A Season.

According to my calendar it is officially Fall. But according to the thermometer, leveling at a tranquil 90 degrees today (or, it was when I started writing this), it is still very much Summer. Most people don’t think LA really has seasons, but we do. The changes are subtle and nuanced for the most part: June Gloom and the ocean layer, the smell of Night Blooming Jasmine, a shift in the quality of light, the Santa Ana winds (and the wildfires fires that follow), and perhaps most obviously, the produce at the markets. The Halloween (and some Thanksgiving) decorations are in the stores and all my magazines are showing up in my mailbox with pumpkins, fall leaves and all manner of oranges and browns on their covers. Except Vogue.  You can always tell it’s the beginning of Fall when you get the tome that is the Fall Fashion issue of Vogue. Tolstoy, step aside.

This is my favorite time of year. I never liked back to school (except the movie), but I always loved back to school shopping. Trapper Keepers, pens, notebooks, rulers, I coveted them all. Argyle, wool, jaunty hats, layers, scarves - who doesn’t get excited for all that? And, though we don’t exactly get vibrant yellow, orange, and red leaves falling from trees here in LA, we do have little pockets, stretches of streets that give us but a glimpse of that. Most of Halloween was filmed less than a mile from my house. And that’s certainly all Fall-y looking. But I can’t lie, I miss the East Coast this time of year. I would love to feel that clean, crisp bite of cool air on the tip of my nose as I walk down the street on my way to meet friends for a welcoming glass of red wine and perhaps a cheese plate. Wearing some cute, little layered number. With my Trapper Keeper.

This always seemed like it would be the best time of year to fall in love. Actually, I suppose it was this time last year that I did just that.

This year, ushering in Fall, has been a bit wonky. Which is why, perhaps, I have been seriously absent here in my blogland. Beso, my dog, my baby boy, my mascot, and my constant companion for the past twelve years, is sick. Again. He has had the worst luck in the huge-things-that-can-go-wrong-in-the-health department. And he is one tough nut. This sick is a bad one and one that will always be with us from here on out. Poor little guy just has too big of a heart. Literally. Anyway, he’s standing strong and getting even more mountains of love than usual, so we won’t dwell on that anymore here.

As an adult, the thing that I geek out about the most with that which is Fall is that it lends itself perfectly to my kind of cooking. I like to cook big. And not just quantity, I like to cook big, comfortable, classy, confident and strong food. I’ve said it before, food that loves. Food that hugs. And even though the past week has been hotter than the devil’s oven, I just couldn’t help myself - I made lasagne and then I slow roasted a chicken for five hours. Additionally, I’ve got all the fixins to make another lasagne with butternut squash and rapini. In the lineup this week I will also be making a chili and the most exciting thing, a Lima bean and ham hock pot, with a real, Southern Smithfield ham. I see lots and lots of brown butter and sage on my horizon. And pasta. And red, red wine. And snuggling with my Autumn love, Fred, my spunky, firecracker of a pup, Eduardo, and my sweet, little Beso - who, I suppose is in the Autumn of his years. And sort of looks like a Lima bean. 

Ham Hock & Lima Beans

Serves 8-10 (12?)

1 Large, meaty ham hock

3 Cloves garlic, minced

2 Medium onions, chopped

2 Lbs. dried large Lima beans

3-4 Stalks celery, cut into pieces

4-5 Carrots, cut into pieces

2 Bay leaves

Celery salt to taste

Kosher salt & fresh , black pepper to taste

Clean and soak Limas. Drain and rinse beans.

Cover beans and ham hock with water, add onion, bay leaves and garlic and simmer until tender (about 2 hours). Add celery, celery salt and carrots for last hour of cooking. When ham is done, and falling off the bone, remove from pot and cool. Remove skin and bone and cut into bite-size pieces. Return to pot and continue cooking until beans are done.

Salt and pepper to taste.

Serve with a crust of bread and a big glass of big, red wine. Or a hearty stout. Enjoy!

Printable recipe.


One year ago: Cousin Flonnie's Spoon Bread
Two years ago: Spaghetti & Meatballs
Three years ago: Roasted Cauliflower Soup with Saffron & Asiago Cheese Crisps

Risotto with Pesto and Peas

 How can you not love risotto?  It's like giving your tummy a big warm hug.  The creamy, rich, goodness is enough to make anyone feel loved and well cared for.  Which is why I mourn the fact that NO ONE IN MY FAMILY likes it!

 Never mind them.  Usually I try to be accommodating, selecting only dishes that I know will be enjoyed by all (or at least by most).  However, as the designated cook of the family, every once and a while, I'm making what I want.  And if they really can't get behind it, well, that's why God invented PB&J.

I think this has been my favorite risotto so far.  I love just about anything that is blanketed in pesto.  Add cheese, wine, ham and peas, and you have heaven in a bowl.  And I'm happy to add that my family did eat this one, my Risotto Reluctant Husband even said he wouldn't mind if I made it again.

Risotto With Pesto and Peas
Food Network Magazine April 2012

Ingredients

3 leeks (white and green parts only) thinly sliced
2 tablespoons unsalted butter
1 cup arborio rice
1/2 cup dry white wine
1 cup frozen peas, thawed
3/4 cup diced ham
3/4 cup pesto
1 cup small fresh mozzarella balls or diced fresh mozzarella
1/2 cup grated Parmesan cheese

Directions

1.  Make the broth:  Bring 6 cups water and 1 teaspoon salt to a simmer in a medium saucepan over medium heat.  Add the leeks and cook until tender, 3 to 4 minutes; remove with a slotted spoon to a bowl.  Adjust the heat to keep the broth at a gentle simmer.

2.  Meanwhile, heat 1 tablespoon butter in a wide saucepan over medium-high heat.  Add the rice and cook, stirring, 1 minute.  Add the wine and cook, stirring, until almost evaporated, about 1 more minute.

3.  Add 2 cups of the hot leek broth to the rice; cook, stirring occasionally, until almost absorbed, about 6 minutes (adjust the heat to keep risotto at a simmer).  Add 1 more cup broth and cook, stirring, until almost absorbed, about 5 more minutes.  Add the leeks, peas, and 1 more cup broth and cook, stirring until almost absorbed, about 5 more minutes.  Taste the rice: if it is not fully cooked, add a little more broth and continue to cook, stirring, until al dente.

4.  Stir in ham and remaining 1 tablespoon butter.  Remove from the heat; stir in 2/3 cups pesto, the mozzarella and Parmesan.  Season with salt.  Divide among bowls, and top with the remaining pesto.

Pasta with Ham and Leeks

My mom, who as you know by now, is also a great cook. We love to share ideas and recipes with each other and will go as far as to call each other JUST to talk about some amazing thing we made for dinner last night.

But there is a big difference between my mom and I.  While it's very rare for me to make the same thing twice, even if I love it, my mom will repeat recipes over and over.  I love to tease her about it, but the advantage to repeating recipes several times is that you have those particular dishes down to a delicious art.  It's like going to a restaurant with a really small menu, you know that whatever they do serve is going to be phenomenal.

My mom made this pasta for us the last time we were home and I scarfed it down as if I hadn't eaten in days.  The flavors, the richness, I mean, THIS is a bowl of pasta.  Knowing how much my husband would love it, I made it for him shortly after going home.  Guess what, it wasn't as good.  I hadn't fine tuned it like my mom had.  It's inspired me to work on recipes a bit more when they don't work out as well as I'd like the first time.  Touche mom!

Pasta with Ham and Leeks 
Women's Day Magazine April 2012 

Cream Sauce
Ingredients


1 tablespoon olive oil
1 medium onion, finely chopped
kosher salt and pepper
3/4 cup whole milk
4 oz cream cheese, cubed
1/4 cup grated cheese
pinch of nutmeg

Directions

1.  Heat oil in a large skillet over medium low heat in a large skillet.  Add onion and 1/4 teaspoon each of salt and pepper.  Cook, covered, stirring occasionally until tender, about 6-8 minutes.  Stir in the garlic and cook 1 minute.

2.  Whisk in the milk and bring to a simmer.  Whisk in the cream cheese, Parmesan and nutmeg and simmer, stirring occasionally until thickened, 2-3 minutes.  When adding cream sauce to pasta, add reserved pasta water if sauce is too dry.

Pasta
Ingredients

1 lb Fettuccine, cooked according to directions, saving 1 cup pasta water
1 Tablespoon olive oil
2 leeks, cleaned and chopped into half moons
1 cup frozen peas, thawed
6 oz ham, chopped (I just used deli meat)

Directions

Heat oil in large skillet until hot.  Add leeks and saute until tender, about five minutes.  Add peas and ham and toss to combine.  Add pasta and cream sauce.  Add pasta water if sauce is too dry.  Serve immediately.

What recipe have you mastered?

Cheesy Ham and Potatoes

You may notice a trend here at A Blog About Food. Most posts will be clean and healthy, since that it how we strive to eat in our home. And then every once and a while I post a not so healthy recipe like this when I hit a "healthy brick wall" and lose my freaking mind.

I've been asked a few times what I miss the most since eating healthier. While it seems natural to say things like "chocolate, cake or french fries," what I have missed more than all of those things is CHEESE. Cheddar, Mozzarella, Havarti, Gorgonzola, Parmesan, Brie, to name only a few. I am a total cheese head and I LOVES my cheese.

So, during Christmas, whilst I was on my brief healthy eating hiatus (I refuse to use the word diet, it's a lifestyle, right?) I made these potatoes. We had a ton of ham leftover and this was the perfect thing.

The tangy and delicious flavor is actually inspired by my blog buddy Kim at Stirring the Pot. She talks often about her love for mustard, and has even featured an amazing Dragon Ale mustard cheese from Whole Foods, which I now purchase every Christmas. While I was making the potatoes I felt the sauce was a bit bland and definitely needed a kick. In goes the rest of that creamy Dragon Ale cheese, along with a couple tablespoons of yellow mustard and we were all in cheesy, hammy (it's a word), heaven. Thanks Kim, your love for mustard saved our meal!



Ham and Potatoes
Adapted from Cooking Light June 2005 (see, it's Cooking Light, not too bad, right?)

Ingredients

2 teaspoons butter
1 medium onion (about 5 1/2 ounces), thinly sliced
3 garlic cloves, minced
4 cups 2% reduced-fat milk
1 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
3 ounces all-purpose flour (about 2/3 cup)
6 ounces extra shredded sharp cheddar cheese (1 1/2 cups), divided (or Dragon Ale mustard cheese if you have it)
1-2 tablespoons yellow or Dijon mustard, to taste
6 ounces diced ham (about 1 1/4 cups)
3 pounds peeled baking potatoes, cut into 1/8-inch-thick slices
Cooking spray

Directions

Preheat oven to 350°.

Melt butter in a Dutch oven over medium-high heat. Add onion and garlic; sauté 5 minutes or until onion is tender. Combine milk, salt, pepper, and flour, stirring with a whisk. Add milk mixture to pan. Bring to a simmer; cook until slightly thick (about 2 minutes), stirring frequently. Add 4 ounces cheese, mustard and ham, stirring until cheese melts. Stir in potatoes.

Place the potato mixture in a 13 x 9-inch baking dish coated with cooking spray. Sprinkle potato mixture with remaining 2 ounces of cheese. Cover with foil coated with cooking spray. Bake at 350° for 45 minutes. Uncover and bake an additional 30 minutes or until lightly browned and potatoes are tender. Let stand 15 minutes before serving.

What I'm Reading

Technically I'm not reading this, I read it a few months ago, but even if I'd read it a few years ago, I'd be completely remiss not to share it with as many people as possible. It's easily one of the best books I've ever read.

Usually after a read a book, I smile, close the book, and start thinking about my next one right away. This was one of those books that I closed and then sat on the couch for about fifteen minutes absorbing the amazingness that was this book. I then had to get online and find any extra info, photos or interviews that I could.

Whether you are a WWII buff or not, read this book. It follows the life of Louis Zamperini from childhood, into the war, and then his life after the war. It is gripping, intense, inspiring and so touching. His experience as a bombardier, fighting on the Pacific side are just incredible. I also loved learning more about what happened in Japan during the war, where most of my WWII books are centered around the Holocaust.

Read it, and then let me know so we can cyber-highfive about how great this book is.

Back to the Basics. Holding on. Letting go.

Over a girls' night out with Maggie last week I lamented the recent loss of a t-shirt that had significant sentimental value to me (and was super cool). A boy I once cared for deeply had sort of permanently loaned it to me and I, of course, kept it forever, until I just lost it a short time ago. I suppose it is one of the only things I had left of him, besides my memories. That whole thing was years ago, now.

Maggie just blinked at me and flatly told me to forget about it. She said I keep too much stuff. I don’t need all of the stuff. It doesn’t necessarily need to have the gravity I have assigned to it. 

It’s a shirt.

Admittedly, that smarted a bit. But she’s right. As tidy as I am and as often as I clean out my closet of clothes, shoes and accessories that I don’t want, or no longer fit, I have a ton of stuff. In addition to that signature t-shirt left behind from most of the boys that have meant something to me. I have a Steeler’s glass that was Sam’s. I’ve carried it with me for a decade. When it was broken last year so was I. I have cards Paz made for me from twenty years ago, a matchbook with a joke written in it from Michael Fancini from fifteen years ago, I have kept every journal I’ve ever written, have busted up furniture from my grandparents, and even have a hat pin, all bent and rusty, that was found in a jewelry box my dad gave to my mom long before I was born. Let’s not even mention the decrepit strainer, shaped like a triangle, with rust, from my dad’s house from way before my time, that sits on a chest in my dining room, never used, yet has no real, actual, sentimental value to me that I’m aware of. But I love it.

What you own eventually owns you, right?

I’ve never actually shed all of my stuff before. And as a result, perhaps I find myself trapped in the past a bit. “I used to do this with that person”, “I used to do that this way and this that way back in the day.” You know?

We can’t completely shed everything really. Actually, even if we get rid of it, we still have all of our stuff anyway, tangible or not. Everything is part of the mosaic that makes all of us who we were, are and will be.

These thoughts coupled with this time of year have harkened me back to thoughts of my family, my roots, my parents, the James River, youth, spirit, innocence, thunderstorms, cicadas, Yo! MTV Raps, Ca-Ca the Clown, The Magic Pumpkin, lighting bugs at dusk, Dinosaur Jr., my back deck; Richmond and Grove Ave. Where I became me.

Those of you that read me on the regular probably know all of this about me already. This is what I do periodically (maybe this is my new stuff).

But man alive, I also miss that food.

Where is it here, dear City of Angels? Where can I find brilliant (and unabashedly Crisco’ed) fried chicken, meatloaf, roast beef, fried catfish, chicken pot pie, chicken livers, collard greens, green beans, fried green tomatoes, pimiento cheese, deviled eggs, mashed potatoes (with mountains upon mountains of butter), corn on the cob, parker house rolls, tomato aspic, corn bread and sweet tea under the same roof? With a twist. In the right place. And wine, too, please. WHERE?

Because I want it. And I’m pretty sure I’m not alone. Sometimes tried and true, and sometimes with a twist. In the right place.

 

I’ve mentioned this previously - but I’m redundant and you all know it – the South actually created the only cuisine that is indigenous to this country. Yes, it’s true. Look it up.

So last week Doug, Maggie and I had a Southern feast: fried chicken (cooked with Crisco AND butter, mind you), buttermilk biscuits, slow cooked collards, and sliced heirloom tomatoes with a dollop of Duke’s Mayonnaise, sun tea and, of course, wine. For dessert we had buttermilk pie (recipe coming soon).

I want more. I’m going home in October. I want my emotional Snuggie. I want to talk to Aunt Babe. I’m going to ask her everything about everything. And I’m going to talk about her food. And I’m going to hug her.

And then I’m coming back here to you, my City of Angels. And I’m going to make you some food.

Shirt? What shirt? I’ve got cooking to do.

Classic Southern Fried Chicken

Serves 6 

 

2 small chickens, broken down
2 large eggs
1 cup buttermilk
2 cups all-purpose flour  

2 tablespoons seasoned salt, such as Lawry's
1 tablespoon fresh cracked black pepper
24 ounces Crisco 

1 stick of unsalted butter

Pat the chicken pieces dry and line a baking sheet with wax paper. In a large bowl, whisk the eggs with the milk. Add the chicken. In another bowl, whisk the flour with the seasoned salt and seasoned pepper. Dredge the chicken in the seasoned flour.

Dunk chicken back in buttermilk mixture and back into flour mixture.

Transfer to the baking sheet.

In a 12-inch, cast-iron skillet, heat the Crisco and butter to 365°. Add all of the chicken and fry over moderate heat, turning occasionally, until deeply golden brown and an instant-read thermometer inserted nearest the bone registers 170°, 20 to 24 minutes. Drain the chicken on paper towels and serve right away.

Printable Recipe