29 March 2025 Saturday

It’s good to let go of things sometimes. I have too many books always, and have practiced the art of giving away ones I care about to others, to open the door for a new opportunity, a new slice of life for me and the books. I always tell myself that if I ever want to see that book again, it’s always at the library or book store. Generally, when I get rid of a cookbook, I forget about, never giving it another thought. Sometimes, I am delighted to get rid of a book. I remember one cookbook that was meant to be “healthy” and every recipe was a total dud, not one thing worked. I don’t miss that one. There was another book, by a famous chef I shall not name as Jacques Pepin, and it too was low-fat, low-sugar, low-everything, low-flavor, low-joy. Every recipe I tried tasted the same, like nothing. I remember one egg white pudding with blueberry syrup, which, according to Pepin, was blueberries soaked in water. Jacques, please!!! Licking stamps is more flavorful.

There is one cookbook that I gave back to the world many years ago that I have thought about and thought about and always said to myself that if I ever found it in a 2nd hand book shop, where I buy most of my books, I would get it again. Cut to ten years minus one week later, and I saw a pristine hard covered copy of the book on the shelf at Community Thrift. It’s A Book of Jewish Food by Claudia Roden. It’s a thoroughly researched history of the evolution and dissemination of the foods of this (these) culture(s). It divides into two main sections: The Ashkenazy cuisine that originated in Eastern Europe, and Sephardic cuisine which has its origins in the middle-east.

I made two loaves of Rye bread, which was deliciously tangy and bitter. I didn’t make the dough the day before, which would have made it more sourdoughy, but i did make it in the morning. I put in a can of peanut butter stout beer, which is the perfect use of the stuff. It went beautifully with the mushroom soup I served next. Mushrooms, a potato, water, parsley, lemon juice. So yummy.

Amazing and mind numbingly simple red cabbage and apples: Let them soak and stew in red wine, apple cider vinegar, SandP. then steam it on up. So so good.

And Chicken Paprikash. Oh, boy, yet another dish mired in saucy controversy, and I do mean sauce. People go bonkers, the paprika must be Hungarian, it must not have tomatoes in it, it must have tomatoes in it, there is no fresh pepper in it, it must have fresh pepper in it. And why must everything Hungarian have sour cream in it? If I think about it, it might be the most divisive issue in the world today. Well, here’s something wack-a-doodle, the recipe in this book has both fresh tomatoes and fresh pepper, and NO SORU

No sour cream. Forgive the strange typo above, which I am unable to delete for some reason. Anyway, no sour cream. Actually, no dairy of any kind. Absolutely delish. Here’s a tip when cooking from cookbooks of other cultures, I think I’ve written this before: You usually want to triple the amount of spice in almost anything. So, 4 heaping tablespoons of paprika at least, at least, to get a good taste on that.

Now, a large pot of chili is simmering on the stove top. And on PBS, speak of the devil, Jacques Pepin is cooking salmon in water. I don’t really understand him, honestly. He clearly knows how to cook, and he must have a very sensitive palette his is food is so lacking in flavor. Not like my chili.

It was purely coincidence that this chili ended up clearing a pantry. I bought a freshly ground pound of beef chuck, and the meat man asked if I wanted another pound for free. Why yes, Mr. Meat Man, I would love more meat at no cost. But wait a minute!! What’s the catch? Well, Mr. Meat Man said that is was the tray of meat that he’d taken out of the window only a moment ago, and that it had lost its pink, youthful color and had grayed. No one would buy it, Meat Man saith. I will take the rejected meat and provide a home for it, I said.

Come on now, this is exactly what I mean. Jacques just put these strange little strips of salmon into a dry non-stick skillet with no seasoning or anything. It just looks so weirdly unsatisfying. With sorrel leaves soaked in light cream. blah.

OK, back to the chili! Having secured a large envelope of surplus beef and, having walked it home, gently, I was now in a position to decide what to cook with it. I’ve been “in the mood” for lasagna lately, but chili won. So, more beef=more spices needed to give it the good flavor. I pulled my signature blend: lots of cumin, lots of Italian seasoning, lots of smoked paprika (it’s a real paprika fest around here lately!), lots of red pepper flake, medium amounts of cayenne, medium amounts of garlic powder ( I like this sometimes because it has a little toasty flavor distinct from fresh garlic), black pepper, salt, and i think that’s it. I ended using up all of most of the above things. I know have a small army of empty spice jars. Spring cleaning means eating out the spice rack. It is not a cemetery, the spice jars are not tombstones. And Colorado Green Chile!! I’ve written about this before, the greatest of all chili blends. What a dish. What a day.

OOh, I just snuck into the kitchen for a taste of that chili. it sure is good. When I was a young fool, I would smother my chili in crackers and cheddar cheese, but now that I am an old fool, I think I like it plain. Which is, of course, not plain at all. OK, maybe a few crackers.

Finally, an editorial note before I hit publish. I always proofread this memo before sending it out and try to catch as many boo boos as I can. Lately, I’ve hit a problem: Word Press does not permit me to change anything after I’ve written it. So, the above text is completely unedited and I know there are mistakes. I regret not being able to change them. I might have even changed my phraseology or syntax and stuff. I was able, mercifully, to add this additional paragraph clarifying the reason for unaltered errata. Have a good day now.