Archive

the main event

It was the night before Thanksgiving (yes, I am still blogging about Thanksgiving) and I wanted to eat something my mom would make. Let’s say I was attempting to summon some kind of culinary genius to aid me in the following day’s demands.

My mom has the gift of transforming simple ingredients and techniques into a dish greater than the sum of its parts. Take baked ziti, for example. She makes a slow-cooked sauce rendered with neck bones that coats noodles that are cooked just right. She experiments with ratios and ingredients, but it always comes out smashing.

Here is my attempt at, not replicating her baked ziti–but hoping that it would be half as good as hers.

Make the sauce: sweat onions and garlic in olive oil. Add sausage (casings removed) and cook until no longer pink. Add a can of San Marzano tomatoes and simmer for 30 minutes. Blend in a blender or with an immersion blender so that the sausage is in small, uniform pieces.

While the sauce is simmering, cook pasta of your choice till just under al dente. Then, season ricotta cheese with S & P, and herbs of your choice.

Next, layer the ziti: sauce, pasta, ricotta. Repeat until there’s nothing left, and top with mozzarella cheese. Bake in a 375-degree Fahrenheit oven until hot and bubbling.

It seems the holidays have snuck up on me. Wasn’t it just last weekend that I prepared my first Thanksgiving dinner?

The one with herb-mustard butter for the chicken (yes, chicken–there were only three of us!)? With white gravy, green bean casserole, and scallion mashed potatoes? Wasn’t it just last weekend I made homemade cornbread for sausage stuffing? And wasn’t it all washed down with pumpkin custard?

Am I showing off? A bit. Believe me, it didn’t all go as smoothly as I’m making it seem. But in the end, after all the profanities, I managed to produce a Thanksgiving dinner that I was proud to share.

And I can’t believe it’s already over.

Yesterday was dedicated to making sweets. And watching football and drinking beer. But mainly making sweets.

Breakfast was simple yet elegant–crepes with blueberry compote. I handed this dainty breakfast to my six-foot, bearded, mid-western S.S., who gobbled it down in mere seconds. I tried to be a bit more refined about it but failed miserably, and the whole thing was gone in less than two minutes.

I used this recipe for the crepes. The compote was easy to prepare and took no time at all: in a small saucepan over low heat, combine blueberries (I used frozen, but fresh is preferred when in season), sugar, the zest and juice of a lemon, and a small pinch of salt. Cook until the blueberries just begin to break down.

Spoon the warm compote generously over crepes (or waffles or pancakes or, hell, even ice cream).

One of the most comforting foods I’ve ever known is cinnamon toast. Growing up, my dad was the one to make my breakfast. Often it consisted of a Breakfast Hot Pocket, or a Toaster Strudel, but on a good day, my dad would make cinnamon toast. Last week, in an effort to ease my pre-midterm nerves, I whipped up a few slices:

My parents had made me a loaf of homemade white bread, which I toasted and then topped it with a generous smear of butter and a good sprinkling of sugar and pumpkin pie spice (though, as the name suggests, cinnamon is the more traditional route).

There was little in my fridge to write home about, except for the makings of a mire poix–carrots, celery and onion. Oh, and in the freezer: chicken drumsticks that have been patiently awaiting my attention. Since I had nothing to do all day, I committed to making chicken soup.

After defrosting the legs, I browned them real good in the pot on all sides. Removed the legs, browned the veggies well, filled the pot with water, and added aromatics (garlic, parsley stems, peppercorns, etc.).

Simmered the stock and skimmed skimmed skimmed all the foamy crud that collected on the surface. About 20 minutes later, I removed the legs, pulled the meat off the bone and reserved for later; replaced the bones in the pot. After a couple of hours, I strained the whole bit.

Next, I transferred the stock to a clean pot, boiled thinly sliced carrots and celery, and, once cooked through, added the chicken meat.

I then seasoned the soup with salt, garnished with parsley, and cozied up on the couch with a steamy hot bowl. It was worth all the effort.