BingoFest

6 January Friday

Happy New Year. Let´s start again. The holiday season took some twists and turns, and here we are on the other side. The season was filled with festivity, and many good things were eaten. I´m not into looking back today, but I did learn a couple things.

The Christmas menu was a bust in that I didn´t make it at once. The upside is that we enjoyed it over several days. Christmas Day was Shepherd´s Pie, a slam dunk in the comfort food department. The chocolate orange marmalade cake came next. Touchdown. The Three Kings salad was a surprise delight. Napa Cabbage with Lychee fruit and kiwi fruit, toasted nuts, vinaigrette. Home run. The salad was the perfect companion to the surprise Kung Pao Shrimp I stir fried.

You know how people always tell you that the wok needs to be really hot and no Western stove-top can handle the size of the wok and it always takes longer, ya da ya da ya da? Well, it turns out, in my case at least, to be bunkiss.

I got that wok so hot that when I threw the chiles and Sichuan peppercorns in there, they INSTANTLY blackened, burned, and emitted something that police use to break up protesting crowds. We all began coughing, crying, the nostrils burned, the windows and doors were flung wide open to the winter cold, the guests fled into the streets, screaming, pawing forward into evening traffic. Some of them ended up at the taqueria across the street, the rest of us waited for the room to clear and tried again. So, word to the wise, watch that wok. If the peanut oil smokes on contact, it´s too hot. If I´ve learned one thing in my years of cooking, it´s that you don´t want your family and friends to evacuate the premises at the scent of your dishes. It´s almost as bad as killing people. Don´t do it.

Above are the Three Kings Salad, and the Shrimp Stir-Fry, both apparently taken with the impressionist painting filter on.

Pork and sauerkraut for New Year´s, Pineapple upside down cake for my birthday, and of course, the beloved taco dip, not once, but twice.

Now, the tree is drying out, and it´s time to let the old year go and look forward. What cooking adventures are you looking forward to this year? Now we all know that life is what happens while you make other plans, but I do have a couple of goals. 1. Start using tofu as an ingredient. 2. Make laminated yeast pastries like Danish. 3. Choose one cookbook a month that I haven´t made anything from and, ya know, do it. 4. Cook more. 5. Make bread on a regular basis. 6. Make a galantine of turkey.

20 December Tuesday

Should it taste like Christmas? What does Christmas taste like? This has been a strange holiday season, slow moving yet suddenly upon us. I feel as though I am looking forward to a celebration that has already happened. There have been a few celebrations here and there, but still the streets are mostly quiet. Well, it’s the Tuesday before Christmas. I’ m stuffing the stockings and trimming the tree, the songs blast out day and night.

21 December Wednesday

After a brief and very informal survey of my family and having made it clear that I did not want turkey, Shepherd’s Pie was nominated from a short list of suggestions. Great.

Before I write at length about the shepherds and their dishes, I am going to write about these last few nights before the festivities descend and everything goes mad. A festive platter of nachos, festive nachos.

Now nachos are wonderful and can be a really fun way to get your veggies in. I use my mostly vegetarian system, expect of course, it is entirely vegetarian because there ain’t no meat in it. Here’s the first point on which many have opinions. Sports bar nachos, smothered in low quality chili, then with a layer a third rate pulled pork carnitas crap. This stuff makes me sick, and I hate it. I guess it’s pulled pork sealed in a plastic bag and I hate it. Third rate, gray guacamole, and cooled, melted cheese that has coagulated and holds the other mess in suspension. If it’s particularly disgusting, it will have pickled jalapeno slices all over it.

I’ll admit to a love of chips and dip. I love dips. I remember when salsa got big. Microwave cheese dips. French Onion dip. Hummus. I’ve tried em’all baby. But you know, nothing compares to a boy’s first dip. My mother makes one with refried beans, sour cream with taco spices, shredded lettuce, diced tomato, sliced black olives, scooped up on a tortilla chip. I think she made two pans of it, one for the party, and one for me. I would request this dip on death row, honestly. We’re going to make it for New Year’s, that’s for sure.

Tonight’s nachos need to be heartier; a meal. Here’s what I improvised, I’m gonna try to write this recipe with as few words as possible. A pan, heat, oil, wooden spoon. Tumeric, cumin, smoked paprika, red chile, chili flakes, coriander, black pepper. Pureed together-tomato, cilantro stems, onion, into the pan. Diced green pepper, black beans, salt. Simmer till hungry.

Bowl, chips, bean chili, lettuce, diced onion,tomato, cilantro, sour cream, shredded cheese. That’s not very original, you exclaim. It’s the spice mixture, you must figure out your own. I have mine. I keep it a secret, even from myself. I’m just saying, you’ll be surprised by how much you like the result with homemade nachos.

Now speaking of keeping secrets, I have now half decided on a first draft of our simple, intimate, yet surprising Christmas dinner. Because my guests, my mother, father, brother, sister-in-law, niece, nephew represent ninety percent of my readership, it would be foolish to use this platform to share my menu and recipes, so I’m not going to. However, in the ensuing days and hours, I shall reveal little clues, like opening the doors of an Advent calendar. There are a couple of sides in the works, one of which is a surprising salad that I can’t wait to try. It does not contain lettuce; it’s based on a different winter vegetable. Can you guess which one? It is, oddly and purely coincidentally, named after other characters of the Nativity. Can you guess which one(s)? BTW, Shepherd’s Pie is not named after the shepherds in the bible story. That too, is pure coincidence.

13 December St. Lucy’s Day

Yes, I made a plan. And as soon as I set it, life laughed. I was invited across the bay to visit friends, have dinner, and soak in the hot tub. Yes please.

Remember that wonderful menu list I put up in my kitchen? All those wonderful menus? I got home on Sunday and discovered that the freezer was filled with bags of frozen spinach tortellini, the bulk of which make it impossible to store anything else, gotta make a little room in this baby. So, pasta it was, not the polenta. I also didn’t get around to the tart. For some reason, I don’t know, it sounds good, but I don’t really want it right now. Never mind, I thought, when I cross the bay, I’ll bring the polenta sans sausage cause they’re vegetarian and the tart.

The following morning, there was a significant BART delay, making traveling back East less appealing and potentially a lot more difficult. It was suggested that I consider the ferry, and consider the ferry I did. Not only consideration either, I rode it. Wait a moment, a delicate tart will not survive such a journey. One heavy whiff of salty brine and it will wilt to sand in my helpless spread fingers. I began to rethink the polenta too. I imagined I was a portly Italian grandmother with a steaming cauldron of hot cereal in front of me, one hand stirring with a wooden spoon, the other grasping my headscarf to keep it from blowing into the cold sea. If I squint my eyes, I can see Lady Liberty, Ellis Island floating on the distant horizon. So, no polenta.

What to do? I wasn’t gonna show up empty handed. This is where that menu really came in handy. I looked at it and saw that I intended to make a carrot cake later in the week. I also remember that I enjoyed a wonderful carrot cake at my host’s birthday party several years ago. Carrot cake it is!

It was wonderful. Now I called this post Bending with the Road because of the funny little change in plans. The other thing of it is, this is the third time I’ve written this post. Something upset my computer or something, and the first two drafts were deleted. Since the original writing, I lost a little interest in this story, although I will say with great pride that I can make a cake that can survive harsh maritime conditions. I guess could say “she’s seaworthy”! Ha!! Anyway, I’ve moved on, and we need to get seriously serious about Christmas, which is chasing us like the devil.

11 December Sunday

I’ve had it with Ina Garten. She’s built an entire career advocating for the homemade meals, recipes, cookbooks, shows devoted to cooking at home, finding great ingredients, serving them to our loved ones? Now, she is advocating pre-made foods, even saying she loves Trader Joe’s Apple Tart. Now, I’m not saying there is anything wrong with Trader Joe’s Apple Tart, I am saying that Ina Garten is a home cook, a passionate advocate for home cooking, someone who is trying to help you develop your cooking creativity. It’s not that we don’t find little short cuts here and there, get the frozen phyllo!! That’s not what’s up with Ina these days. She’s saying, pre-made dishes and meals are ok. She said it saves a lot of stress. For those of us that still love cooking, it is not stressful. Going to a restaurant or having one delivered does not make anyone a cook. I don’t understand. Maybe she doesn’t understand. If she is getting tired of always making the food, if she’d rather shake a martini and hang out with her husband, I completely understand that. But don’t tell your public, who are younger and looking for solid, home cooking advice from a well known expert, that it is just as good and less stressful to buy ready made meals as it is to make one. It isn’t.

10 December Saturday

At six this morning, it started drizzling. I could hear it gently tapping on the tin rooftop of the parklet in front of my building. It was calling me. I put on my shoes and scarf and went for a second predawn walk. No one was out at all, I actually walked down the center of Valencia Street, letting the little droplets bead on my face. It was so lovely. I came inside, with a new idea, more on that in a moment.

I was going to run to the grocery store, but it’s seven thirty now and the wind is howling with rain drops like cold little darts. Gotta stay in, but here’s the idea:
I have a little bulletin board which I have affixed to the kitchen door. Affixed to this affixture with little tacks are two sheets of paper-one that has my dinner menus and the other with shopping needs. It is the product of vision, I saw it perfectly as if in a dream. Every color, detail, and symbol rich with meaning. Here it is.

It fell off the door. Nothing stays put anymore. If you can read type that small you’ll see that tomorrow night for dinner we’re having Baked Polenta with sausage and cheese roasted Brussels Sprouts, and finishing with an Apple almond custard tart. Boo-hoo. Let’s finish with a little Christmas cheer.

9 December Friday

One Christmas, a friend suggested I think outside the so-called box when planning my dinner and directed my attention to a website where I could purchase whole saddle of kangaroo. I checked out the site, and there were many zoo animals one could purchase as food. I was forced to admit an uncomfortable truth- I am not that adventurous in the kitchen. Fortunately for me and at least one kangaroo, this deal was not available in the United States. We went with chicken.

I think I’ve got what you’d call the Old rotten prune blues. It happens. It happens to a man. Here I am, facing a stuffed pantry, almost overwhelming. Here I am, a man with time on his hands to devote to cooking and writing. Here I am, a man of limited means and limitless imagination. How to make the most of what we have is the key to artistry. Leonard Bernstein said something great about it once, but I can’t remember exactly how it goes.

If I’m honest, I still smart from that pack of sour prunes that ruined my Thanksgiving stuffing. I woke up at four thirty this morning and lay in bed listening for the rain. Silence. I get out of bed, put the coffee on and my shoes. I put the tv on very quietly, and it is presenting Laurel and Hardy’s Way Out West, one of their best, with the famous dancing scene. The storm is moving in, scheduled to arrive by six. I’ll have to take my morning walk now, in the dark. I go outside, and it has rained, the sidewalks are damp, and the air smells so clean and fresh, the perfect accompaniment for a hot cup of coffee. It is quiet, I am alone. My thoughts turn again to spoiled prunes. Why can something so sweet and lovely turn rancid and heinous as though on purpose? And in front of guests? What are these prunes trying to teach me? There is no joy in hiding treasures, you can’t enjoy tomorrow what is only fresh today.

In my fruit basket, there are a dozen fresh apples, picked right off a tree in Oakland. They are firm, crisp, incredibly juicy and completely natural, having never been sprayed or treated in any way. They have the occasional worm, and they deteriorate as things do in nature, which is to say quickly. Life is like this, now isn’t it? Eat the apple today, there is no later.

Inspired by mortality, I decided to do a pantry inventory of chocolate, nuts, dried fruits, and flours. All is good and well and right, but I must make use of these ingredients while we’re still in our prime. Let’s see what I come up with. My food is teaching me so much this week!

In the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia, on the trail of the lonesome pine. This is one of Stan and Ollie’s best films, it seems more improvised and free, the great James Finlayson at his mustache twisting villainous best.

29 November Tuesday

Deep golden broth gently rolling, tossing little colorful pieces of celery and carrot around. A small mountain of rich turkey thigh and leg, and long pieces of fusilli. Turkey Noodle Soup. Eat well, that’s what I do.

Days later, we are in December. The 6th to precise. The turkey noodle soup was wonderful, as was the dish I made last night with the very last of the turkey. You probably have never heard of it, I found it in a cookbook from 1951 called French Country Cooking by the great Elizabeth David. It is intended to be made with the “old and cold” end of the turkey, its final bow. I cooked the bones and veg to make a stock, cooked some vegetables in a pan added whatever meat I managed to scrape off the bones which had also been finely minced. Then, add the sauce ladle by ladle full. It thickens. Yes indeedy yes, it thickens. Then take a pot of cooked rice and make a ring of it in a dish, then fill the center with the turkey. In a final dash, add a handful of crisp cooked bacon, and a scattering of parsley. The dish is called Turkey a la Chevalerie. I can’t find any recipes online or anywhere. I found it in my collection by typing “old turkey” in the subject line of the database.

Now the fridge is emptying out again, getting ready for the next big festival. Where Thanksgiving is somewhat rigid in its food traditions, Christmas is anything goes.

28 November Monday

Well you can guess what happened after that last blog post. My sleeve caught fire stirring the potatoes, I knocked over the stock pot, slipped in it and fell into the window which ignited the curtains, and as I was screaming to be rescued, the neighbor broke in and saved me but sadly lost his own life as the entire building was consumed in flames. I am using my savagely charred hands to eke out one more writing before expiration.

Not really. I just got busy with the food preparation and didn´t have time to write. I think these things are better afterwords anyway as the play by play can get boring fast. So, then, here´s how everything turned out.

Pictured above is the turkey if my memory serves me. Tom turned out great as did most everything else. There were two stand outs and one disaster.

Because the horseradish was flavorless, I didn´t make the shrimp cocktail. I also didn´t make the Gourgeres because the turkey and sides were ready to go early. I decided to serve the sweet potatoes as an appetizer. This is wonderful. Peel and cut the sweet potatoes into wedges. Fry up some bacon cut into pieces, plenty of it. Roast the sweet potato wedges after they´ve been tossed in the bacon fat. Make a dressing- olive oil, vinegar, dijon mustard, salt, pepper, pour over the sweet potatoes then sprinkle with bacon pieces and parsley. Eat it.

Simply fantastic. The next great surprise made me so happy, it was so thrilling, the guests cried out in marvel.I feel I have invented a most excellent dessert, I´m afraid to write about it even, because someone may take it and sell it to Ben and Jerry´s or some such thing, and my fortune will be lost. I am actually sitting here, debating whether or not to tell you about it. OK, here goes.

The pumpkin raisin tart was very good. Putting it on the hot baking pan did get the bottom crust nice and brown. Putting it in the tart pan instead of a pie plate made it easier to spread the cream cheese layer all around. I make my own pumpkin pie spice blend which is more all-spice and ginger than cinnamon and nutmeg. It was yummy. The next step took it to another level. The tart is not sweet, it´s tangy, and very pumpkiny. I put a scoop of vanilla ice cream on top of the tart, then generously drizzled it with cranberry sauce. This is everything. Everything. It was so so good. I should mention that I made the cranberry sauce which is low in sugar and has orange zest and juice in it, which is amazing with the sweet ice cream and woodsy tart. Please don´t tell anyone about it, but if you do, please credit me, it would mean a lot to me right now.

Having made Thanksgiving dinner in my apartment before, I should remember that not all of the sides fit in either oven at the same time, so there will always be a dish that comes to the table late. The last few years it has been the stuffing. Unfortunately, for this reason it has been unfairly relegated to secondary status. There were two things that disappointed me about the stuffing. First, the bread. It wasn´t sturdy enough and got a little soggy. The second, because it was an apple, prune, and sausage stuffing were the prunes. I hadn´t had them long, they were in a sealed package, and I´d eaten them many times before, and Paul Newman himself vouches for the quality of these prunes. They looked ok, they didn´t have an off scent, but my goodness, did they ever taste foul. In the spirit of generosity, good will, and full disclosure, I reluctantly brought the dish to the table. ¨If you are enjoying your meal, I recommend you not eat this.¨ I announced as I set the dish down. ¨It is terrible.¨ One guest immediately said he must try it if it´s terrible. He pensively chewed a forkful and said, ¨It´s not bad. It´s unusual. Are those olives in there??¨ ¨No,¨ I replied. ¨Those are not olives.¨

Another Thanksgiving behind us. It´s time for turkey noodle soup, one of my favorites and get ready for Christmas. The chaos, the mess, the triumphs and the disasters, they are all part of the sacred magic.

24 November Thursday

Happy Thanksgiving!! I was up before dawn, with strong coffee, pie crust and other things. Auntie Mame is on TV, so it´s today, let her inspire us!

After the dough was put in the fridge, I went to put everything else together. Forgotten ingredient!!! Tale as old as time, evaporated milk vs. sweetened condensed milk. I always have one when I need the other. So, I had to wait till the store opened to get a can. So, now all is well.

The pie ever so delicately went into the oven about four minutes ago. It´s a tricky little thing, this tart. After all these years, a detail we overlooked. It will be interesting to see how it all shakes out, but this year, for the first time I put the tart on a pre-heated baking sheet.

This movie is hilarious. I´ve never seen and I can´t take my eyes off it now. But my eyes are on the clock. Ten minutes till ten the tart should be done. It took a few more minutes to bake, put the pie is out and cooling. I will pull the turkey out of the Fridge at 12:30, which gives me two and a quarter hours to do other things.

23 November Wednesday

I heard on the news this morning that two and a half million people are expected to visit the Atlanta airport this weekend. Two and half million at one airport? Why? I can´t answer this, but I can tell you one thing- I am so so grateful this Thanksgiving to not be flying anywhere. Holiday travel is exquisitely painful. We spend so much money and the time isn´t quality because there are so many people that aren´t normally together trying to catch up. The dinner is over in just a few hours and everyone goes back to as before. Then, you fly home, wondering what happened to that time and you go back to work on Monday, disoriented and with a bit of an emotional hangover.

Now- the battle plan. What must be done today? Anything that can´t wait until tomorrow and things that will make tomorrow more difficult. First, the former. The turkey must be encased in salt today. Cranberry sauce needs to macerate. Cocktail sauce needs to mature. Pie dough needs to rest, and the pie should be made tonight. Bread pieces for stuffing need to dry out. Today. Mashed potatoes will keep beautifully overnight, they make the should do category. I will make the turkey stock for gravy tonight too. Green bean casserole can be assembled tonight and cooked tomorrow. Everything else is tomorrow.

Tom was pulled from his wrapper, and is now exfoliating comfortably back in the fridge. His innards and bits are simmering on the stove top with vegetables. The Russets are in their water but haven´t started bumping around yet. I will finish the cooking day with cranberries and pie.

For the most potatoey tasting potatoes, simmer them without peeling them, peel and mash them when they are cool, then add salt and two cups at least of half and half. No butter!! Wacky I know, but the potatoes will be snowy white and taste earthy like potatoes should. Oh yes, and white pepper too. Julia would be so proud.

Do you remember any Christmas commercials from your childhood? There´s one I always remember- it was the Folgers coffee one where the son comes home as a surprise before the folks get up and only the little sister knows he´s there. Then he makes the coffee, mom wakes up confused, rubs her eyes and descends the staircase. Peter!! She shouts and embraces him as though he´d come back from the dead. It´s here that we are reminded about the best part of waking up.

And oh!!!! the house is filled with the rich scent of turkey stock. The potatoes are soft and ready for the food mill, and I am listening to some favorite things. Right now it´s Lily Tomlin as Ernestine interviewed by Joan Rivers. YouTube. Check it out. Ha! now there´s a great diversion. What do you like to listen to while you are cooking? A lot of music is too distracting to me, I will sing along, hear a favorite piece and need to go back to that wonderful moment. Music is an event. I like to hear people talk, so podcasts, interviews of all sorts fit the bill.

Last year I was in Akron for Thanksgiving, and I woke at around six in the morning to the very same smell I am smelling now. Celery, onion, turkey neck. I went downstairs where my mom was already well underway with the food prep and listening to Bob Dylan. I happened to come down during one of his groggier offerings, and decided to go back to bed. I have nothing against anyone´s musical choices, and mom had been up for a while, probably had a cup of coffee or two, and was ready to hear him.

Night before last, I had a dream that the family was gathered for a holiday feast when my brother put on a new album. It was titled-Bob Dylan and Louis Armstrong Together at the Holidays, and a picture of both exchanging presents in front of a roaring fire graced the jacket. The music that followed was extra-terrestrial, a prerecorded orchestra playing saccharin arrangements of familiar Christmas Carols while these two groan and gravel their through one unintelligible chorus after another. I guess the point is that neither one is known for their singing per se, yet I find artistically that both possess a certain…..Oh wait, my stock is boilng!

The potatoes are finished. The cranberries too. The stock has been strained and is cooling. The bread pieces are drying out and everything is laid out for tomorrow. All the vegetables are prepped and ready for assembly. What? No pie, you ask? No, not yet. The tart is easy to put together and better suited for the early morning, when I am fresh. This is a great start, time to clean up and get ready for bed.