Food For The Greedy

An oldie goldie on this snowy day.  Not only is this book old, but it is a reprint of an even older version.  Why Nancy Shaw chose to title this cookbook Food for the Greedy is beyond me.  She states in her introduction:

The receipts which I have assembled in this small book are ones which I use regularly in my own home. I think that, at any rate, half of the receipts could not be met with elsewhere, as I have collected them for many years, from many people, in many lands.

They are indeed as strange mix of recipes culled from a lifetime of thinking about food.  The Cambridge Guide to Women's Writing in English posits that food writing or cookbooks, as one would think about them today, began in the 1920's.  During this period, society ladies began to organize their recipes into collections and they often wrote columns in local papers.  Cambridge is quick to point out that virtually none of these women could actually cook.  This was a trend that continued through the 1930's when Food for the Greedy was originally published.

The very first recipe in the book is for a dish called Potassium Soup.  This hardly sounds like a dish served for some greedy foodie. It also calls for canned okra.  I can honestly say that I have never seen canned okra, but, in my defense, I rarely spend time in the canned vegetable isle of the grocery.  I was so interested that I checked to see if there was still such a thing as canned okra.  To my surprise, there is indeed canned okra and now I feel obliged to buy a can for my own edification, but I digress...

Potassium Soup

Cut up small: 3 carrots, 2 onions, 1 large head of celery, 1/2 can of okra and one kernel of garlic, and place them in 2 quarts of water.  Boil for 17 minutes. Then add one handful of parsley and one green pepper, and boil again for 7 minutes.  Add a large tin of tomatoes and boil up again.  Strain through a sieve to the desired thickness.

American receipt, said to ensure longevity!

The "Okra" can be bought at good class grocers who stock less well known canned goods.

Well, it turns out that "Okra" can be bought at good class grocers who stock less well known canned goods or at Amazon.  Clearly, with the help of Amazon we can all be greedy!

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The Trout Point Lodge Cookbook

The guys behind Trout Point Lodge are an interesting lot. Daniel Abel, Charles Leary, and Vaughn Perret came together to become food entrepreneurs. . Two boys from Louisiana and one from Oregon who had studied law, worked in politics, and studied Chinese history; guys who had lived in China, New York City and Ithaca. The suits fell in love with farmer’s markets and were called back to the Crescent City.

Soon they were raising chicken and goat, planting a garden and foraging both literally and figuratively for traditional Creole and Cajun ingredients. Soon restaurants in New Orleans were featuring their produce and cheeses. And then they took a trip to Nova Scotia.

Nova Scotia was no accident. The original Cajun came to Louisiana from the Arcadian region of Nova Scotia. The French settlers who founded Nova Scotia were expelled and made their way to Louisiana. Arcadians who became “Cajuns” possessed an innate ability to live off the land and a remarkable respect for that land.Trout Point Lodge became their new venture. They built a cultural center, cooking school, and resort. The Pacific Northwest offers up a bounty of natural ingredients. In the Trout Point garden they grow fava beans.Here is a soup that can also double as a dip.

Chilled Fava Soup

6 cups fresh fava beans, shelled

1/2 cup plus 2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice

2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil

1 1/4 teaspoon ground cumin

1 1/2 cup medium tomatoes, pureed

1/4 cup chopped fresh flat leaf parsley

2 tablespoon chopped fresh mint

2 cups heavy cream

1 cup Crème Frâiche

1. Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil, add the fava beans, and cook for 30 seconds. Drain and rinse under cold water.

2. Place the beans in a food processor and process into a paste.

3. Transfer the paste to a large mixing bowl, and stir in the lemon juice and olive oil until smooth. Add the cumin, tomatoes, parsley, mint, and cream. Stir well. Cove and chill in the refrigerator for at least 1 hour, or as long as 24 hours.

4. Serve cold, with a dollop of Crème Frâiche on top of each serving.

Add a bit less cream and you have a great dip. Versatile and tasty.

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New American Table

Everyone knows Marcus Samuelsson's story by now. Born in Ethiopia, adopted and raised in Sweden, ventured to America to train, but stayed to find his fortune. With such a varied background, one can see how his take on the "American" table might be just a bit different than most.

Samuelsson is rather obsessed with the immigrant experience and that intense interest is displayed in The American Table. Samuelsson draws recipe inspiration from the vibrant ethnic cultures he sees in New York and beyond. In this book one can find green salsa, breakfast burritos, salmon flatbread, doro we't, tempura crab, soy-glazed dumplings, garlic feta dip, turkey meatloaf and the list goes on.

While it is a bold way to look at cuisine in America, it makes for a bit of a disjointed cookbook. If you are looking for international ideas, this is the place to go, even if the title is a bit misleading. If you are looking to plan an entire dinner, this might not be the best fit. From a personal standpoint, recipes with dozens of ingredients are often off-putting, and Samuelsson loves long lists of ingredients that might be easy to find in New York City, but in most places, putting together one recipe will require a bit of specialty shopping.

If you are undaunted, check out his veggie soup. I love orzo and feel it is one of those ingredients that needs to be used more.

My Veggie Soup

1/2 cup orzo
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 red onion chopped
1 tablespoon mild chile powder
1 3-inch piece ginger peeled and minced
2 green Anaheim chiles seeds and ribs removed, chopped
4 garlic cloves minced
1 teaspoon yellow mustard seeds
1 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon white pepper
1 tablespoon white miso
2 tablespoons mirin
1 tablespoon soy sauce
2 cups baby spinach
2 tomatoes coarsely chopped
2 , white and green parts chopped scallions
1 avocado halved, peeled, pitted, and cut into 1/4 inch cubes
Juice of 2 lemons
2 tablespoons chopped cilantro
2 tablespoons chopped Thai basil leaves

1. Bring 3 cups salted water to a boil in a medium pot. Add the orzo, and cook until al dente, about 7 minutes. Strain, and set aside.

2. Heat the olive oil in the same pot, over medium heat. Add the onion, chile powder, ginger, chiles, garlic, and mustard seeds, and saute until the onion is softened, about 5 minutes. Add 4 cups water, season with the salt and white pepper, and bring to a simmer. Stir in the miso, mirin, and soy sauce and simmer for 10 minutes. Add the spinach, tomatoes, scallions, avocado, lemon juice, cilantro, basil and orzo, and simmer until heated through.

I, of course, feel a ham hock would be a great addition to the ingredients list, but that's just carnivorous old me.

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An Appetite For Passion

Sometime people write cookbooks because they love the food and sometimes because they get paid.

Today at Lucindaville, we wrote about Ivana Lowell's memoir. Lowell is the daughter of Caroline Blackwood. An Appetite For Passion was written because Lowell got paid... here is the story.

Ivana Lowell worked for Harvey Weinstein (oh yes and she was dating his brother, Bob). Miramax, the Weinsteins company had acquired the movie, Like Water for Chocolate and they were about to do a special-edition DVD release. Harvey wanted a cookbook tie-in and he enlisted Ivana Lowell.

"I had loved the movie, and the idea of a cookbook seemed like a terrific one until I looked at a copy of [Laura] Esquivel's book... The book was divided into twelve sections, one for each month of the year, and each section began with a recipe.
I went back to Harvey with the bad news. "It already is a cookbook, " I told him. He flew into a rage. "I don't care if it's already a fucking cookbook! Write another one. Call it a sequel! I want a Miramax book to tie in with the movie."

Like her mother before her, Lowell collected recipes from friends and other sources to compile the book. Her sense of humor was always at the forefront as she presented dishes like Root Vegetable Ménage à Trois, Spice Massaged Tuna in Bed with Greens and her mother's recipe for lamb meatballs, Lady Caroline's Lamb with Three Byronic Sauces. Here is a recipe from The Four Seasons:

Lush Peach soup

6 ripe peaches, peeled and pitted
1 small orange, halved and seeds removed
1/2 lemon, seeds removed
1 bay leaf
1 cinnamon stick (You may substitute 1 teaspoon ground cinnamon)
4 whole cloves
2 cups dry white wine
2 cups water
1/3 cup sugar
1 teaspoon cornstarch
3 tablespoons peach brandy
7 ounces ginger ale

Place the peaches, orange, and lemon in a large saucepan and add the bay leaf, cinnamon, cloves, wine, water, and sugar. Bring to a boil over medium heat. Reduce the heat slightly and simmer for 1 hour, or until the ingredients are very tender.

In a small bowl whisk the cornstarch into the brandy. Stir the brandy mixture into the peach mixture and return to a boil. Remove from the heat and allow to cool. Remove and discard the orange and lemon rinds, bay leaf, cinnamon stick and cloves. Puree the mixture in a blender or food processor until smooth.

Push the mixture through a fine sieve into a bowl. Divide 1 cup of the soup into 4 small ramekins and freeze. Chill the rest of the soup and add ginger ale just before serving. Serve in chilled bowls and float the frozen soup on top.

Check out Caroline Blackwood's cookbook, Darling, You Should'nt Have Gone To So Much Trouble.

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Saved By Soup

My friend, Ann, who doesn't cook, has several cookbooks with the full intention of cooking. Recently she chastised me for stealing her "soup" book. She said she brought it out for me to see, but she never got it back. I thought that was odd. I am very much a "stew" kind of girl. A "chowder" girl. But really, soup is not my thing. So I checked the soup/stew category on my book shelves to no avail. I searched low then high. Tucked away high, high on a shelf (where I usually put books I don;t really think I will ever cook from!) sat Ann's soup book, Saved By Soup by Judith Barrett. Judith Barrett has written several risotto books (which I might add, sit within easy reach on the shelf.) which I love very much.

Anyway, if you insist on soup, this book is pretty good. My favorite section s on fruit soups, which I am more inclined to like than say, Asian broths of which there are several. Here is the closest thing to a stew you will find in Saved By Soup.

Home-style Chicken and Vegetable Soup

1 teaspoon olive oil
1/2 pound boneless, skinless white-meat chicken, cut into 1-inch pieces
1 medium-size onion, finely chopped
2 medium-size carrots, chopped
1 celery stalk, trimmed and chopped
1/4 pound fresh fennel (about half a small bulb), tall stalks and leaves discarded and bulb finely chopped
1 medium-size zucchini, trimmed and diced
1 large Yukon Gold potato (about 1/2 pound), peeled and diced
2 cups canned chopped tomatoes, with their juices
4 cups chicken stock
1/4 cup chopped fresh parsley

Heat oil in a heavy 4-quart saucepan over medium-high heat. Add chicken, season with salt to taste, and cook, stirring, until all pieces have turned white and are beginning to brown, about 5 minutes. Remove chicken with a slotted spoon and place in a small bowl.

Add onion, carrots, celery, fennel, and zucchini to the pan and cook, stirring, until vegetables begin to soften, 2 to 3 minutes.

Stir in chicken pieces, potato, tomatoes, and broth and bring to a boil. Partially cover, reduce heat to medium-low, and simmer until potato is tender and the chicken cooked through, about 30 minutes. Season with salt and pepper to taste. Stir in parsley, and serve.

OK, Ann, you were right! I did have the book. I am returning it pronto!

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The Somerset Club Cook Book

The Somerset Club began informally in the mid- 1820's. It was known as the Temple and the Beacon and finally the Somerset Club. It's present location combines two townhouses built roughly at the same time the club formed.

In 1819, David Sears built a townhouse at 42 Beacon Street on Beacon Hill that was designed by Alexander Parris. An addition was built in 1832, followed by an adjacent house at 43 Beacon Street for his daughter, known as the Crowninshield-Amory house.



In 1851 the Somerset Club purchased the Crowninshield-Armory house and dubbed it the Beacon Club until it was renamed the Somerset Club in 1852. In 1871 the Somerset Club purchased the David Sears townhouse, combining the two into one big clubhouse.



John Sears, great-great grandson of David Sears said of the club,

“It’s a place where you go to have a pop and talk about whether the salmon were biting and whether or not you’ve navigated the pond ‘round the fourth hole and how are the kids."

In a 2002 article marking the 150th anniversary of the Somerset Club, it's then President Samuel"Spike" Thorne laid out the rules.

For those who can make the cut, the Somerset affords an escape from the all too oppressive present. Here there are no baseball caps worn backwards, no harried wannabes, no remarkably rude teenagers sprouting metal from their faces. The club, of course, has its rules, and they’re strictly abided by. For example, a tie is a must. Work papers are forbidden in the dining room and almost everywhere else. And no electronics are allowed.

“Somebody comes here and opens up a cell phone, we tell him to put it away or get out,” says Thorne. Also, it is to be remembered that this is a social club — no touchy talk of politics here. “One does not enter the dining room or the bar with the idea that one has to bring forth a stimulating point of view on a hot topic of current interest."

From 1904 until 1944, the Somerset Club kitchen was helmed by Chef François Lombard, who kept detailed notes. In 1963, the club assembled a collection of recipes with the help of cookbook writer, Charlotte Turgeon.
Here is a lovely soup made from Jerusalem artichokes.

Crème Palestine

4 Jerusalem artichokes
5 tablespoons butter
4 tablespoons flour
3 cups chicken broth
1 cup cream
salt and pepper

Pare the artichokes and slice quite thin. Cover with water in a small saucepan, dot with 2 tablespoons of butter, and stew for 20 minutes or until the artichokes are tender. Melt the rest of the butter in another pan. Stir in the flour, and when it is well blended stir in the broth gradually until it is all incorporated into a smooth sauce. Force the artichokes through a fine strainer or spin in the blender. Combine with the sauce and simmer 30 minutes. Stir in the cream and season to taste with salt and pepper.

Tasty and brahmin!

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The Hot and Hot Fish Club Cookbook

In reading through my pile of Alabama cookbooks, I couldn’t help but think of that old adage, “Everything old is new again.” That could be a problem.

Every chef waxes poetic about the vegetables at the Farmer’s Market, how they are fresh and organic and beautiful. They speak as though this is some new phenomenon, an amazing discovery on their part. I worry that this comes from a “fashion” in food as much as a love for the product. I can’t think of a living soul, especially a chef, who would pass up fresh black-eyed peas for canned ones. All those farmers in Alabama with amazingly beautiful fruits and vegetables have always been there. As a child, my great-uncle had a huge organic farm. I can’t remember buying vegetables at a store once we moved to Alabama.

When my Uncle Knox reached his 90’s and was no longer able to keep his garden going, he rose early three days a week all summer long and met a truck farmer from Chilton County to get his vegetables and their extraordinary peaches. When he moved into town and could no longer drive, he told the farmer he wouldn’t be seeing him. The truck farmer asked where he moved and each day he drove into town, he stopped at the curb in front of the house so Uncle Know could come out and get his vegetables.

In 1884, Orange Judd published Truck Farming in the South, detailing how farmers could move their produce to buyers in the North. Southern farmers have always been there, providing amazing produce to everyone, not just chefs.


I am trilled that farmers are getting their due, but let us never forget that they have always been there, feeding the nation. That is a fact and not fashion. What does make me happy in all of these Alabama cookbooks is the celebration of the traditional foods and the love of family that has always been at the forefront of Southern culture. No one celebrates that more than Chris and Idie Hastings.

In 1995 they opened The Hot and Hot Fish Club. While the restaurant might be new, The Hot and Hot Fish Club is over 150 years old. As articles and profiles are written each week about those “culinary pioneers” who gather in homes to prepare meals for cooking clubs and roaming restaurants, and formal gatherings, truth be told, it has been done before.

Chris’ great-great-great-great-grandfather, Hugh Fraser, was a founding member of The Hot and Hot Fish Club in 1845. After meeting informally to discuss the weeks work, fishing and planting, one person would offer up his catch and vegetables and the men would enjoy a simple meal among friends. After a time they decided to become a formal epicurean gentleman’s club complete with rules, regulations, and dues.

There were eighteen rules for The Hot and Hot Fish Club. Six of the rules involved baskets of champagne. That's my kind of club. Here are two of the rules outlining officer's duties.

RULE V DUTIES OF THE PRESIDENT

Each member, in rotation, and in order of residences, shall act as President. He shall furnish a ham, and good rice, and also attend to the preparation for dinner, to be on the tables a 2 o’clock p.m., or not later than half-past 2. He must preserve order, and select sides with the vice-President for games. If absent he must send his ham and rice.

RULE VI DUTIES OF THE VICE-PRESIDENT

The Vice-President shall, in addition to his dish and wine, supply the Club with water and ice, and attend the games. If the President is absent, the Vice-President will preside, and his next neighbor officiates for him. He must also announce whether champagne will be brought at the ensuing club.

When the The Hot and Hot Fish Club Cookbook was published, the rules from 1845 form the decorated endpapers. Clearly, this cookbook is worth the price just to read those rules. But it is not the only reason. In his introduction writer and sportsman Charles Gaines writes,

“The recipes here are as elegantly form-following-function contrivances as a Le Corbusier chair; unprissy, unhistionic, uncomplicated, and honest.”

“Unprissy” is the key. If I have a complaint about many Southern cookbooks, it is that prissy, often-precious quality they seem to have, as though that is the norm. The Hastings take the indigenous food of the South and make it unprissy and honest. Why argue with Charles Gaines. There is grouper, dove, bobtails, okra, muscadines, green tomatoes, and hot and hot fish of every kind.


As a testament to this cookbook, it took me forever to pick a recipe. I finally chose one of my favorites. In the introduction to the recipe the cook is told not to tell anyone what the soup is as one might lose the chance to impress your diners of you tell them this is just cauliflower.

Cauliflower Soup with White Truffle Oil

2 tablespoons unsalted butter
1 1/2 cups sliced tallow onion, about 1 medium
2 teaspoons chopped fresh thyme
1 pound white cauliflower florets
2 cups vegetable stock
1 cup heavy cream
1 teaspoon kosher salt
1/4 teaspoon freshly ground pepper
White truffle oil (optional)

Melt the butter in a medium stockpot over medium-low heat. Add the onion and thyme and cook, stirring occasionally, for 10 minutes or until the onion is softened and translucent. Add the cauliflower and stock and bring the mixture to a boil; reduce the heat to medium low and simmer for 20 minutes. Add the cream and cook for an additional 15 minutes or until the cauliflower is tender and the mixture is slightly reduced.

Transfer the cauliflower mixture to a blender and process until pureed. Season the soup with the salt and pepper. Ladle 3/4 cup of the soup into six bowls and drizzle each serving with 1 to 2 drops of truffle oil, if using. Serve immediately.

For some really wonderful recipes, check out The Hot and Hot Cookbook. Remember, when you are getting all misty-eyed about those fresh carrots at Whole Foods, Napa did not invent fresh farm produce, it has always been there.

Also, when you visit me in Shirley, bring a basket of champagne. It’s a rule!

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A Surprise in Every Dinner

Sometimes when I pull a cookbook, I find that I end up looking several cookbooks by the author. I drag them out and then they end up still sitting on my desk some time later. A short time ago, I featured Edwardian Glamour Cooking Without Tears by Oswell Blakeston and got to do a post featuring the poet H.D., which doesn’t always happen in cookbook blurbs. I will spare you the modernist poetry this time, but I did want to share this recipe from Blakeston’s, A Surprise in Every Dinner.

In this book, Blakeston is not really concerned with cooking times or amounts of ingredients. (He’s my kind of cook!) He states:

“In the old days cooks would weigh out materials as carefully as chemists and then time the cooking to the fraction of an ounce. Today one cannot expect such time-consuming precision.”

His favorite time saver is the modern butcher who should be able to allay any fears you have when cooking pork chops or lamb. He will sell you the proper joint and give you the time it takes to cook prepare it properly. (This book is from the 1960’s; good luck finding that butcher, today.)

I went meatless with this recipe, however. You will need a good florist instead of a good butcher. It is that tie of year when mums are everywhere, and here is a recipe that incorporates them into you dinner meal instead of simply in your decorating scheme.

Chrysanthemum Soup

chrysanthemums, 4 blooms
milk, 1 pint
butter, 1 tablespoon
salt
pepper
cornflour, 2 tablespoons

Soak the chrysanthemums in boiling water for two minutes. Take them out and pull off the petals. Chop the petals. Warm up the milk, and dissolve the butter in it. Season with salt and pepper. Add the cornflour, and stir till the milk thickens. Add the chopped petals, and cook for two minutes.

Here is the COOKING WITH FLOWERS caveat: Know where your flowers come from. Your yard is the best location. What you don’t want is soup of boiling pesticide, so ask questions before you cook.


In the meantime, now when see pot after pot of chrysanthemums you can think: "Maybe I’ll have those for dinner."

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