Lamb Patties in Bacon with Dill Sauce

My mother-in-law and I recently bought half of a lamb from the University of Illinois meat science lab. The lab opens a meat counter three days a week, selling fresh cuts of the livestock they “harvest.” This is what a half lamb looks like:

Dorothy loves lamb the way some people love good chocolate, and she swears she would enjoy it three times a day.  She called me last night, excited to share a recipe she found in her old edition of the Better Homes and Garden cook book. I could hear her mouth watering over the phone, as she told me about the lamb patties wrapped in bacon. I made it tonight, and much to my surprise even my kids enjoyed it.

I served it with mashed potatoes, fruit salad, and a mixed green salad with home-made Caesar dressing.

Easy Japanese Dinner — Gyoza (potstickers)

 

Mr. Sugiyama, the former Miss Gordon, Mr. Walker, Mrs. Sugiyama, Sept. 2, 1990, Glencoe, Illinois.

 

Mrs. Sugiyama, my karate teacher’s wife, taught me  Japanese cooking in 1989. I went to their house every Friday morning to help Mr. Sugiyama paste up his new karate book, 25 Shotokan Kata. This was in the dark ages when we used a waxer to coat the backs of the pages and an x-acto knife to trim the edges. After I arrived at 10:00, we would have some tea, and then Sensei and I would get to work on the pages, while gossiping about the people in the dojo. “Gordon-san,” he would ask me, “How do you think of Miss Fallon? Who would be a good match for her?” And so we would talk about good match-ups for all of his students. At around 11:00 it was time for a break, and my cooking lesson with Mrs. Sugiyama began. I would go into the kitchen where she taught me the art of stuffing and hand crimping the little dumplings, and frying-then-steaming the little pot-stickers or gyoza. She used fresh pork and cabbage, seasoned with green onions. They were lovely. I remember how to make them, and every couple of years I will go to the small effort, but the easiest way to capture that crunchy, chewy dumpling experience is to head to your nearest Asian grocery store, and buy a bag of the frozen. That’s what I’m doing tomorrow. I’ll post a picture after I fry them up. Go out tomorrow and buy a bag — you can get vegetarian ones as well — and we can enjoy them together (virtually). Also, pick up some soy sauce, rice vinegar and some chili oil so we can make the dipping sauce.

My most memorable gossip session with  Sensei Sugiyama was when I asked him what he thought about Mr. Walker. “As a boyfriend, Gordon-san?”

“Yes, Sensei.”

“I can not recommend him. There is a certain sharpness in his eyes.”

While I respected Mr. Sugiyama, thankfully I did not follow his advice, and 20 years later Mr. Walker and I are still enjoying gyoza together. And, I should add, that when Mr. Walker announced our engagement right in the middle of a karate class, Sensei ran over to him and gave him a big bear hug.

 

Prepared, frozen gyoza. For the sauce mix 1 part soy sauce with 1/2 part rice vinegar and just a few drops of chili oil. Adjust to taste.

 

Very-Veggie Pasta with Cheese

DSCN0380pretty pasta w vegies sm

Don’t  buy boxed macaroni and cheese. Instead, make this from scratch in 30 minutes. It’s kid friendly and they get all of their vegetables right in the dish. This is one of the few dishes that all three of my children love, and even their pickiest of friends have asked for seconds.

  • 4 cups chopped vegetables
  • 1/4 onion, finely chopped
  • 4 Tbs. butter
  • 4 Tbs. flour
  • 2 cups milk (you can use soy milk)
  • 3 cups grated cheese (Use what you works for your crowd: – Kids like cheddar or cheddar-jack blend.  – Mix in some Swiss or goat cheese to suit your taste. – Tonight I used Havarti and cheedar.)
  • 1 large, fresh tomato, chopped.
  • about 1 pound of mixed pasta
  • 1 tsp. basil
  • salt and pepper

1. Get your water boiling.

2. Start the sauce:

  • Cut up the vegetables into little pieces. I like to use broccoli and/or zucchini, and mushrooms. I’ve also used thinly sliced kohlrabi, very thinly sliced carrots, cauliflower or chopped spinach. Use your favorites.
  • Saute the vegetables along with the onion in the butter until the vegetable are slightly soft. They’ll cook a bit more after you add in the milk and cheese.
  • Sprinkle the flour over the vegetables and stir it around. It will be a little pasty.
  • Slowly add the milk, a little at a time.
  • Mix in the cheese and let it melt, and add the tomatoes.
  • Season with salt, pepper and basil.

Keep this over the lowest possible heat while you boil the pasta.

  • Pick 2 or 3 different kinds of pasta shapes (bow ties, rotini, etc.). One of them should be a long shape like spaghetti or linguine, which you’re going to break into about 3″ segments before boiling. That way all of the pasta pieces will be of similar size. Boil them all in the same pot of water, taking note of cooking times and adding them one type at a time with the longest-cooking pasta going into the pot first.

Get out your biggest serving bowl, and pour the sauce over the pasta.

 

I’m thrilled to announce that The Plate is My Canvas is now available as a book, and includes many recipes from this blog.
The Plate is My Canvas: Recipes and Stories from My Family’s Interfaith Kitchen, 222 pages.

I’ve also published two books that are excerpts from “The Plate.”
—For just the Passover recipes, most of which are included in the “The Plate,” Essential Passover from Scratch: Recipes and Stories from My Mother’s Kitchen, 72 pages.
—For the very best of my baked goods—cookies, bread, coffee cakes, etc., You Can’t Have Dry Coffee: Papa’s Excuse to Have a Nosh And Nana’s Perfect Pastries, 86 pages.

These projects started as this food blog! From there emerged the iNosh iPad app (no longer available), and now the books. My goal in making printed copies of The Plate is My Canvas was to pass down my family’s traditions to my children, and I presented them each with the big volume in December of 2018. It’s taken a while, but now the books are available to others.

Homemade Caesar Salad Dressing

The star of tonight’s meal was the salad dressing. I remembered my mother’s Caesar recipe and threw this together in just a couple of minutes. Yes, the salmon was lovely, broiled with just a splash of soy sauce and a squeeze of a lemon; I love the brown basmati rice which is full of flavor and a little gritty; and sweet potato is a treat now that they tell us it’s healthy; but the Caesar dressing was the most exciting flavor on tonight’s plate:

  • 1 cup mayonnaise
  • 1/2 cup Parmesan cheese
  • 1/2 teaspoon Worcestershire sauce
  • 1/2 clove fresh garlic, crushed
  • 1-2″ anchovy paste

Mix it all together, adjust any of the ingredients to taste, and stir in a little milk if you like it thinner.

Gefilte Fish

For favorite Passover recipes from my kitchen, please see Essential Passover from Scratch: Recipes and Stories from My Mother’s Kitchen

I couldn’t end Passover without posting about our gefilte fish and horseradish. I’ve never eaten jarred gefilte fish. My mother and grandmother always made it fresh, so now my sister and I try and duplicate their efforts. This is the batch of 46 pieces that we made this year.

Gefilte fish are fish patties, served cold and topped with prepared horseradish. It’s made from a combination of white fish and pike. We modern women will sometimes include some salmon. The proportions are variable, but 2/3 white fish to 1/3 pike would be a good place to start. If you have a good fish counter at your grocery store, ask if they can take the fish off the bones, grind it, and then give all of it back to you — fish bones, head, tail and all.

Step 1: Make the yuch. Yiddish for broth, the “u” is pronounced with the sound of the “ou” in the word “would.” Make the yuch by boiling up all of the fish bits — skin, bones, head, tail — with an onion, some celery and carrots. The end result is a fish stock. After draining out the yucky stuff, you’re left with the yuch.

Step 2: Mix up the fish. Take the ground fish and mix in egg,  matzo meal, white pepper,  salt and  grated carrot. Mix this up in your mixer. Add just enough water to the mix for it to be a consistency that is slightly wetter than hamburger meat.

Step 3: Shape the patties. With a bowl of water near your pot of simmering stock, wet your hands, form the patties and then gently place them in the stock. Cover and let cook for 45 minutes to 1 hour. Transfer to a container to let cool. You can freeze the stock and use it later for bouillabaisse or other fish-based soups.

The finished product on our Seder table.

Making the horseradish was quite an experience! We started with a fresh horseradish root, peeled it, chunked it and put it in the food processor with some apple cider vinegar, some sugar, a little salt and a can of beets. Add and taste, add and taste. It did, as they say, clear our sinuses.

Here’s the recipe for gefilte fish:

Ingredients

For the fish

Order 5 pounds whole fish*, to include whitefish, trout, and northern pike, filleted and ground, with approximately the following breakdown:

  • 2½ pounds whitefish
  • ½ pound trout
  • 2 pounds northern pike (carp or salmon may also be used)
  • 1 carrot, grated
  • 2 eggs
  • 2 Tbs. matzo meal
  • ¼ tsp. white pepper
  • 1 tsp. salt
  • 1/3 c. water
  • For the broth
  • fish trimmings
  • 2 onions
  • 2 stalks celery
  • 2 carrots

*When you order the fish, ask to have it ground. Also ask that they reserve the tails, fins, heads, bones and skin—you will need all to make the fish broth.

Directions

1. Prepare the fish: If the fish store is not able to grind the fish, remove it from the bones and grind it in a food processor or meat grinder. Even after it’s filleted (by either you or the fish store) there will be fish left on the bones, so scrape off as much as you can, and combine with the rest of the ground fish.

2. Make the fish broth: Peel the onions and cut in half, peel the carrots and celery and cut them in half. Place the vegetables along with all of the fish trimmings into a large pot, and cover with about 4 quarts of water. Add 2 Tbs. of salt. Cover, bring to a boil, then reduce heat and let simmer for 2–3 hours.

3. When the broth is nearly ready, prepare the ground fish: In a large bowl, or mixer, combine all of the ground fish, the grated carrot, the eggs, matzo meal, pepper, salt, and water. Mix well.

4. Strain the broth: Set a strainer inside a large pot. Pour the fish broth through the colander to strain out the solids. Set aside the carrots; toss the rest of the solids. Bring the broth back to a simmer.

5. Prepare the fish patties: Fill a small bowl with water—you will use this to wet your hands as you work. Take about ½ cup of fish mixture into the palm of your hand, and form into a smooth, oval patty. Place gently into the simmering broth. After all patties are made, cover the pot and cook gently for 45 minutes. Remove from broth into airtight container, cool and serve with slice of cooked carrot and a dollop of ground horseradish.

Matzo Apple Soufflé

For favorite Passover recipes from my kitchen, please see Essential Passover from Scratch: Recipes and Stories from My Mother’s Kitchen

My mother baked this once a year, using the recipe as a way to use up leftover Passover charoset. If you don’t have that then use some grated apples and cinnamon.  We loved it as kids, looking forward to it every year.  And now my kids do too! It’s an apply souffle, but don’t be scared off by the word souffle since it’s simple to make.

 

Ingredients

  • 2 pieces matzo (or 1 heaping c. matzo farfel)
  • 3 eggs, separated
  • 2 c. charoset

or

  • 2 c. peeled, grated apple
  • ½ tsp. cinnamon (omit if used in your charoset)
  • ¼ c. oil
  • ¼ c. sugar

Directions

1. Crumble up the matzo in a bowl. Run warm water over the matzo until wet, then drain.

2. Mix together all of the ingredients except the egg whites.

3. Beat the egg whites until stiff and fold into the mixture.

4. Bake in a greased, 2-quart round soufflé dish at 350° for one hour or until golden brown. Serve hot.

 

The art of soup, as learned in the Alaskan wilderness

I learned to make soup in Alaska, the summer after graduating from college. Hired as a waitress at the Mt. Haus Restaurant, I was wearing the tan, polyester peasant top, tucked into my fitted, polyester, brown skirt uniform on the day the cook walked off in the middle of his shift. Kaye, the elderly manager, was frantic in the kitchen, with orders up and no cook for 20 miles. The Mt. Haus sat on the highway between Anchorage and Fairbanks, located 100 miles south of Mt. McKinley. On a clear day we had a terrific view of the mountain. We had no phone. No one there had a car, as most of the staff lived above the restaurant. The other two cooks lived 20 miles away and we had no way to contact them. But after two weeks of watching Lil’ Bit and Jane plate up the orders, I knew the drill. I grabbed the frozen chicken from Kaye, and for the rest of the summer I was the new cook, and I never had to wear the tan or brown polyester again.

Our big draw was the mountain, and tour buses drove up and down the highway all summer. Tourists stopped for lunch and we had a soup and sandwich line all ready. The soup of the day was at the discretion of the cook. Living above a restaurant in the middle of the wilderness with not too much to do but read thick James Michener novels gave me a lot of practice making soups.

I was a decidedly poor soup artist at the beginning of the summer. One of my first creations became my opportunity to sprinkle in whatever spice looked nice. Whole cloves proved to be a mistake. Which I realized in time, and alone in the kitchen, I secretly strained through every bit of soup solids and removed by hand every spec of clove from the pot.

Making soup without a recipe is like making an abstract painting. My palette usually consists of a colorful variety of fresh vegetables, with handfuls of dried legumes, rice or oats, and maybe a dash of meat, used moderately as one would use a condiment. I try and steer clear of frozen vegetables, but will use frozen beans, peas or corn. I rarely, if ever, use bouillon or canned stock — the vegetables and spices will make a perfect stock and you’ll know exactly what you’re eating.

I’m often asked for my recipe for a particular soup, and often I’ll just have to guess what I did. My general plan and advice to soup makers are some of the lessons I learned in the Alaskan kitchen:

  • Take a moment to visualize the soup, imagine the flavor you have a taste for, and then start creating.
  • If there’s a soup you love, ask the chef what spice they used.
  • Look at some recipes to get a starting point.
  • As a general rule of thumb, you can’t go wrong by starting out by sauteing an onion in a little olive oil, adding a chopped carrot and some celery.
  • If you like a tomato flavor then throw in a can of chopped tomatoes.
  • Then start adding from your palette — from the vegetables, legumes, rice, oats, spices and meats in your pantry —  cover with water and let it simmer for several hours.
  • A sweet potato is brilliant in many soups, and you can smash some of the cooked potato against the side of the pot with the back of a spoon to thicken the broth.
  • Look through your spice drawer, open some jars and take a sniff. Imagine if they’ll compliment your ingredients. Try  a pinch and see if you like it.
  • Press in a clove of fresh garlic, and add salt.
  • Sometimes a tablespoon of sugar will bring out the flavor.

My friend Melanie, an artist herself, made an amazing soup last week. She started out with a potato-leek soup in mind, but decided to add some left-over mushrooms, then some beets and fresh grated ginger. Wow! I never would have thought of all of that. She reports that it was amazingly delicious.

Last night I made my very favorite soup, turkey soup. There’s nothing as wild and as inventive as Melanie’s soup, just turkey, carrots, sweet potatoes, celery and parsley, but still rich and delicious. I added matzo balls because it’s Passover.

Nicole’s Charoset (and the art of making guest cooks feel welcome)

For favorite Passover recipes from my kitchen, please see Essential Passover from Scratch: Recipes and Stories from My Mother’s Kitchen

I became an aunt when I was still a teenager when the idea of someone calling me “Aunt” Dori felt terribly wrong to me. My sister suggested her kids just call me Dori, and so it has been all these years. Now, at 52 years-old I wish I were that lovey-huggy-Auntie, complete with the honorific. And now, thanks to my new niece, Nicole, I am a born-again aunt, Aunt Dori.

Nicole married my nephew Ari in August. They are freshly minted newly weds. Raised in an Orthodox family, a daughter of South African Jews, I imagine that Nicole’s first Passover away from home as a married woman might be a little lonesome. I asked if there was a food that she’d like to have at our Seder, something that she would ordinarily have at her family’s celebration, and she suggested this charoset. Her mother, Jane, sent the “recipe,” which, in true Jewish mother tradition, is nothing more than a list of ingredients: dates, figs, almonds, dried apricots, honey and wine, with sometime the addition of raisins, apples or walnuts. With no set quantities, I went to our local organic food shop and bagged and labeled the various ingredients. Laying the plastic bags with their long, white, coded twist ties on the counter, all in a misshapen jumble, I thought about how inelegant this would be to work with. Nicole was arriving the next day and would assemble the charoset in my kitchen. Embracing my Auntie-ness I emptied the items each into their own mason jar and arranged them in the pantry. I loved the effect so much that I then emptied out  onions and sweet potatoes from their  bags and made a little arrangement in the big red bowl in the butler’s pantry. I loved how inviting the kitchen looked, ready for the women to work together, to share some old traditions as well begin some new ones.

Seder Salad

For favorite Passover recipes from my kitchen, please see Essential Passover from Scratch: Recipes and Stories from My Mother’s Kitchen

Making a Passover Seder meal generates a lot of disparate left-overs. This curried chicken salad made delicious use of the following:

  • Chicken used to make the matzo ball soup stock.
  • Green onions. My sister introduced a new Seder activity this year whereby we whipped each other with green onions to simulate the slaves being whipped. The kids, as you might imagine, enjoyed this.
  • Lettuce left over from decorating the gefilte fish plates.
  • Apples from the charoset ingredients.
  • Hard boiled eggs. We boiled some extra for a certain appetizer that never quite got assembled. Maybe next year?

I really hadn’t planned what to make for dinner until about 6:15 tonight. I stared in the fridge and the left-overs told me what to do. I know it’s soup night at the Walker Cafe, so we also had some of last night’s left-over asparagus soup — something else made from Seder extras.