Sour Cream Raisin Pie

February 11th, 2009

The Ford Treasury of Favorite Recipes from Famous Eating Places

1955

I should just give up the whole pie thing.  The problem is I don’t get it.  The recipe says “stir until thick” and I do just that but it still comes out like soup.  You will recall both the chiffon chocolate pie and the maple syrup pie ended poorly and now we can add Sour Cream Raisin to the list.  Of course, all of these pies tasted delicious, they just looked dreadful.

This recipe is credited to The Hawthorne Room of Indianapolis, Indiana and really seemed easy enough even for a pie-failure like me.  Combine 1 cup brown sugar, 2 Tbl flour, 1/2 tsp nutmeg, 1/2 tsp cinnamon and 1/4 tsp salt in the top of a double boiler and stir until thick (argh).  Then beat 2 egg yolks, temper them with some brown sugar mix, and add them to the pot.  Cook for 5 more minutes and add 1 cup of raisins (I soaked mine to plump them).  After the mixture cools you pour it into a baked pie shell, cover it with meringue made with 2 egg whites and 6 Tbl sugar and brown it in a hot oven. I’m even getting good at the meringue part! Look! I made peaks!

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First cut, no problem:

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Slice, yum:

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15 minutes later, pie swamp:

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Of course I would like to blame the the editors, recipe testers, stove, or ingredients but clearly I have some pie issues I need to work out with a pie therapist.

Squash Pie

February 4th, 2009

Favor-Eats

A community cookbook by The Women’s Society of Christian Service, Vincent Methodist Church, Nutley, NJ

1965

One of my great passions is old community cookbooks.  I just love the way they look, the way the read, the way they reflect.  Unfortunately as far as cooking tools go though, they pretty much suck.  The beauty is the homespun quality, the downside is that recipe writing is a skill most people don’t have.  What I look to them for is ideas and new flavors.  Like this oddly named “Squash Pie” which does not contain any squash but, rather, eggplant.  A note here to say that if I were forced to become a vegetarian (through what would obviously be horrible and dire circumstances), I would live on eggplant.  I LOVE it.

In this “recipe” the eggplant is peeled, cubed and boiled in salted water.  Ugh.  Has anyone ever tried to boil eggplant? It’s like boiling a sponge.  The cubes float on top and I kept having to shove them into the water with a spoon.  Finally, I just covered the pot.  After the cubes are cooked they get processed with one chopped onion, three Tbl melted butter, salt, pepper, two eggs and five slices of toast that have been softened in a little milk.  I decided to cook the chopped onion and added a crushed clove of garlic in the pan.  I also drained the eggplant and dried it out in a hot oven.   The mixture is then poured into an oiled baking dish, sprinkled with two Tbl cream and baked for 35 minutes at 350 degrees.  During the last five minutes I used the broiler so the top would brown a little better.

The color was a little greenish:

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The look improves when I plated it with my lamb chops and purple barley:

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The texture was wonderful, but the taste was only eh.  I can’t explain why but it tasted a little fishy to me. I would definitely do this again because it was easy and different but next time I’m going to roast the eggplant and add more spices like cumin and coriander to give it some oomph.

Maple Syrup Pie

February 1st, 2009

How America Eats

Clementine Paddleford

1960

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I know I’ve already done the maple dessert thing but this one sounded SO good and had the added benefit of not requiring me to make my own dough.

Obviously this recipe comes from the Vermont chapter of the book and from the way Paddleford writes it, Vermonters pretty much do everything with maple syrup but bathe in it.  According to her those jolly folk from the North use it for everything from breakfast cereal to dunking buttered bread.

Unfortunately my pie didn’t work out so well.  The first step is to combine 1 1/2 Tbl of butter with 2 Tbl flour in the top of a double boiler then add 1 cup maple syrup, 2 egg yolks and 1/2 cup water.  Then you’re supposed to stir until it gets thick.  The problem for me is that it never got thick enough and I don’t know why.  After about 15 minutes I gave up and just threw in the nuts (1/2 cup chopped walnuts which I toasted) and let the mixture cool.  While it cooled I made a meringue with 2 egg whites, 1/4 cup sugar and 1/4 tsp vanilla.  Fill your store-bought shell, shmear the meringue, bake for 25 minutes and chill again.  Listen, it’s not that it wasn’t tasty (it was), it’s just that it was very, very drippy.  It was like eating big spoon-fulls of maple syrup which, even if you love syrup (I do), becomes nauseating after three bites.  Sorry Clem.

Oxtail Ragout

January 26th, 2009

Savory Stews

Mary Savage

1969

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My daughter trusts me implicitly.  If she could have a mini-me on her shoulder guiding her all day long she would be perfectly happy.  She’s nearly seven and I still pick out her clothes every morning which is fine with her.  I could say something banal like “This will probably continue until she goes off to college” except that she’s already told me that she plans to live at home for college.  And after she’s married.  It’s very flattering.  My son, on the other hand, does not trust me at all and announced last year that as soon as he was an adult he was leaving.  Since he was very little he has had distinct ideas about everything and so when I tell him those little mom-white-lies like “It’s going to be fun!” or “You’ll love it!” or “Don’t worry!” he ignores me.  Except in the realm of food.  When it comes to food my little boy belongs to me.  This was our conversation last night:

Me (with enthusiasm): “Nicky! We’re going to have oxtail for dinner!!”

Nicky: “What’s that?”

Me: “It’s the tail of the cow.  It’s delicious.”

Nicky: “OK.”

And that was that.

There is nothing extraordinary about this recipe but I was in the mood for oxtail.  The tail pieces (2-3lbs) are dredged in seasoned flour, browned in bacon drippings and set aside.  Then the vegetables (1 med onion, 2 stalks celery, 2 med carrots, 1 large garlic clove) are browned in the same pot.  The meat gets added back and then the pot is de-glazed with 1 cup beef broth and 1 medium-sized can of tomatoes.  Then you plunk in a bay leaf and some herbs and let it cook for three hours.  Nothing earth shattering here, although I like the fact that it’s cooked without wine.  I took the oxtail out at the end to reduce and thicken the sauce which becomes rich and sticky as only the sauce from gelatin-rich bones can.  Wonderful, and even better for lunch the next day.

Fondue Neuchâteloise

January 22nd, 2009

A Quintet of Cuisines

Time-Life Foods of the World

Michael and Frances Field

1970

It’s amazing I haven’t made fondue earlier.  I mean, seriously, what dish could possibly be more retro than fondue?  I even have a fabulous vintage fondue pot that I bought on ebay, along with vintage teak fondue forks (also ebay).  Plus I love it and it reminds me of my childhood. Although the Gourmet  books had a few fondue recipes, as did James Beard, I thought I would go to “the source”: Time Life Foods of the World. A Quintet of Cuisines must have been the last in the series for two reasons: most of the others are dated 1968 and I think the lumping together of five regions signals that they had pretty much wrapped it up.  The big countries/regions were covered (America, France, Russia, Italy, Spain, Japan, China, Scandinavia, South America, the Caribbean…) and this was a nod to some less well-known areas that, in their minds, didn’t merit an entire book of their own.  The “quintet” is made up of Switzerland, The Low Countries, Poland, Bulgaria and Romania, and North Africa.  Of course if you went into Barnes & Noble today all of those areas merit much more than one cookbook each.

I’ve made fondues before, but the recipe for this one had methods that were unfamiliar to me.  Instead of rubbing the pot with garlic you boil two cups of dry white wine with 1 garlic clove for two minutes and then remove it. One half pound of Gruyère is combined with 1/2lb of Emmentaler and tossed with one Tbl cornstarch.  I’ve never added cornstarch before but it’s a great idea - the cheese clumps less and doesn’t separate from the liquid.  After the cheese is added handful by handful the fondue is flavored with two Tbl kirsch, nutmeg, salt and pepper.  It was delicious.  My favorite trick with fondue is to vary the breads.  This time I used olive bread and raisin/pecan bread along with a baguette, cherry tomatoes and cornichons.  I think the ratio of liquid to cheese also made it lighter which I appreciated, particularly the next day!


A big vat of melted cheese doesn’t make for the best photo so here’s one from the book of some random Swiss kid:fondue-006.JPG

Here’s my awesome fondue pot with forks:

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And, for no reason whatsoever, here’s some Dutch dude with sausages around his neck:

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Senate Bean Soup

January 15th, 2009

Woman’s Day Cook Book of Favorite Recipes

1958

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This small book, which was published to commemorate the twentieth anniversary year of Woman’s Day magazine, is not part of the Encyclopedia about which I have written much.  This was printed eight years earlier and is infinitely less interesting as far as recipe content, illustrations or general culinary interest.

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I don’t know if this was their first attempt at cookbook publishing but by 1966 I can say with certainty that they had definitely gotten it down.

I’m having an Alexander-variety week (terrible, horrible, no good, very bad) so I’m going to be brief here and then take a long, hot bath.  The Senate Bean Soup appealed to me for its simplicity and because I have come across bean soups with the moniker “Senate” and was curious about them.  Read more about the mythology here.  At its essence it is a bean soup with a ham bone, what makes it Senatorial is the addition of mashed potatoes.  It goes like this: soak 1 lb navy or great northern beans overnight, drain then cover with  enough water to make five quarts.  Add a smoked ham bone (I used a hock) and cook for two hours.  After two hours, tip in 3 medium potatoes which have been cooked and mashed, 1 cup chopped onion, 1 cup diced celery and 2 minced garlic cloves.  I also added 1 cup of chopped carrot because it seemed like the right thing to do.  The vegetables and beans mingle over low heat for an hour at which point you remove the bone, cut the meat and add it back.  It was delicious and soothing with a pure, ham-flavored broth that I could not stop sipping.  Because the vegetables are only cooked for the last hour they act more like seasoning and the addition of mashed potatoes gives the whole cauldron some body.  But despite the soup’s bi-partisan approval, it was not enough to improve this god-awful week so off I go to immerse myself in bubbles.

Hasenpfeffer

January 13th, 2009

Recipes from Great American Inns

Presented by Benson & Hedges

1981

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Of course, this cookbook is not particularly old nor does it have oddly-styled photos filled with neon-colored fruit and extraneous statuary.  What’s fascinating to me is that it was sponsored by a CIGARETTE COMPANY.  While I could explain the last entry as a travel guide disguised as a cookbook, I can’t quite figure this one out.  How did Benson & Hedges benefit by producing this book on behalf of the inns? Did the inns all have cigarette machines? In 1981? Was the book sold or just distributed at the inns? The mystery deepens on the inside cover where Evan Jones, celebrated cookbook author and husband of Judith Jones, is listed as editorial consultant.  I’m very confused.

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The recipes are decent, though, and cover the spectrum of classics such as red raspberry soufflé, cream of broccoli soup, and veal piccata.  And for any one who needs a hint as to why I chose this particular recipe I have two words for you: Laverne. Shirley.

The hasenpfeffer calls for two rabbits, cut up, that are first marinated for 2 days in 2 cups wine (no specification red/white, I used white), 1 cup water, 1/2 cup vinegar, 1 Tbl lemon juice, 12 peppercorns, 4 cloves garlic, 1/2 tsp each thyme, rosemary and marjoram,  and 1 cup clery leaves.  The problem was that after one day the acid in the marinade had started to “cook” the rabbit so I decided to go ahead and cook it rather than wait another day.  First, 1 1/2 cups of chopped onion, 1 cup quartered mushrooms and 4 slices of bacon are cooked until soft and put aside.  Then, the rabbit gets lifted from the marinade, dried, sprinkled with salt, dredged in flour and browned in butter in the same pan.  When brown on both sides the onion/mushrooms are added back and the pan is deglzed with the strained marinade.  Then its simply covered and simmered for an hour.  The final step is to combine 1/2 cup of flour with 1/2 cup of sour cream and two tsp of salt and stir it into the cooking liquid.  The result is a creamy but distinctly tart sauce which I enjoyed but which Doug found to be too strong.  Also, I had to lie to the kids and tell them it wasn’t a bunny like the ones they have in class.  I’m going straight to hell.

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