Bunny Up

Posted in Recipes, Side Dishes, Whimsies by kzmclain

I think Easter has gotten to be kind of a complicated holiday. Perhaps it’s because it really has become so secularized that we’ve lost our focus on what’s actually important about this holy day. But that’s perhaps a post for another time.

This photo is of no one I know, but the Easter bunny is the scariest thing I’ve ever seen. Just why do we do this to our children?

Easter was a pretty big deal for our family when we were growing up. This was in large part because we attended Catholic school where we weren’t allowed to forget the meaning of Easter. But we were children, after all. So there’s no denying that one of the most awesome things about Easter was our new finery.

In the 50s and early 60s, our Easter finery included a sport coat and tie for my brother (along with a fresh crew cut) and a fancy new dress for the three girls. And of course, the Easter bonnet. It was a must. For one thing, back in those days we were required to cover our heads when we entered the church. Most of the time we did this by wearing a chapel veil, which was a small round lace cloth that we pinned to the top of our heads. But on Easter, we wore a bonnet.

As a small child, Mom kept our hair short. A pixie cut, and my bangs were always crooked. As an aside, the woman who cut our hair – Fay – must have hated children, or at least cutting children’s hair. She would use a razor and literally yank, yank, yank at the hair. I hated getting my hair cut ALMOST as much as I hated going to our also-children-hating dentist. In fact, the first time my current hair stylist brought out a razor to cut my hair, I began screaming uncontrollably. (Not really, but I did feel compelled to tell her about my childhood experience.) But I digress.

I don’t know how my sisters felt about their short hair, but I yearned to have long hair. So when it came time to buy my Easter hat, a requirement – non-negotiable – was that it have a long grosgrain ribbon going down my back. When wearing the hat, I would swish my head back and forth so that the ribbon would sometimes flip over my shoulder, you know, like a pony tail. Pitiful, no?

Gloves and patent-leather shoes with white anklet socks were also a requirement with our finery. I loved wearing my white gloves. In fact, I wish women still wore gloves when they dressed up. There is nothing more elegant. One year I even had white gloves with pink flowers embroidered on them. Sigh.

When we walked into St. Bonaventure Catholic Church, it was filled with men, women, and children dressed to the hilt in similar Easter finery. We would look around to see if our friends had prettier hats and dresses than we. We would make sure we walked up the aisle in such a way that our new patent leather shoes click-click-clicked on the hard floor.

Nowadays kids mostly get the finery and forgo the church service. That makes me sad.

What has gotten complicated nowadays – at least in my opinion – is that it is another excuse to give children gifts and take children to organized activities. When I was young, we got an Easter basket and that was it. We would color the hard-boiled eggs the night before and place them in our basket. When we awoke on Easter morning, the Easter bunny had come, filled our basket with candy, and hidden the basket – in its entirety – somewhere in the house. I’m pretty sure our Easter bunny didn’t have the patience to hide each individual egg. Our bunny was a little cranky.

We did have an Easter egg hunt, however, at Pawnee Park. For whatever reason, Grammie loved Easter. And she loved hiding the little plastic Easter eggs in the trees and bushes around this pretty park. There were no organized eggs hunts. We saw many other families doing the exact same thing. Such fun.

Then we would make our way home to another feast prepared by my mother that always included a ham and creamed potatoes.

A feast fit for a king. And fit to celebrate the Risen King.

Creamed Potatoes

Ingredients

6-7 russet potatoes, peeled and cubed

3 T. butter

1/4 c. all-purpose flour

1 t. salt

1/2 t. pepper

2 c. milk

Chives and/or parsley

Process

Place cubed potatoes in a large saucepan and cover with cold water. Bring to a boil. Reduce heat; cover and cook until tender, approximately 15-20 min. In a separate pan, melt butter. Add flour, salt and pepper, and whisk until smooth. Gradually add milk, whisking as you pour. Bring back to a boil; cook until thickened, about 2 minutes.

Drain the potatoes and place them in a serving bowl. Pour the cream sauce over the potatoes and gently stir to coat. Sprinkle with herbs if desired.

2Apr2014

Pranked!

Posted in Recipes, Side Dishes, Whimsies by kzmclain

If you look up the word gullible in the dictionary, you will see my face. I’ve been this way since I was a small child I’m afraid. My childhood best friend – who had a wicked pranking streak – had a field day with me. She could convince me of anything.

April Fool’s Day was made for people like me. To be the victim, that is. I don’t know how many April Fools jokes have been played on me, and I’ve fallen for them all. Look, it’s Haley’s Comet! Yep. I looked every time.

I often tried to be the April Fools prankster, but it never worked. I’m not sure if I was simply not creative enough to come up with a good joke or if I just gave it away by blinking too hard while making the play. No matter. It rarely worked for me.

A couple of years ago I was driving my granddaughter Addie home from piano lessons on April Fool’s Day. April 1^st. In Colorado. Might even have been some snow on the ground. Anyway, we are driving out of the neighborhood where her piano teacher lived when suddenly Addie says, “Nana, did you see that back there?”

“See what?” I replied.

“A huge yard of daisies,” she said. “They were really pretty.”

Again, it’s April 1^st. Spring has barely sprung in Colorado. But she’s my granddaughter and I didn’t doubt her for a minute. I sincerely believed her. I quickly did a U-turn and went back down the block.

Oh. My. Heavens. Did that girl ever laugh! “April Fool’s Day!” she happily chirped.

Ladies and gentlemen, I haven’t heard the end of that since that day. She tells the story to everyone who will listen (she is a McLain, after all). So yesterday, it being April Fool’s Day and all, I concocted a scheme that would prank Miss Adelaide Grace.

I decided to send her a photo of me with a scorpion tattoo. One, she would be shocked that her Nana got a tattoo. Two, ooooooo, a scorpion. I sent a text to her mom letting her know my plan so that she wouldn’t be shocked when she got a photo of me with a tattoo.

Of course, I didn’t want to actually get a real tattoo. So I began the hunt for a temporary tattoo. I checked the party store. They had them but Cinderella was not the look I was going for. I called tattoo parlors to see if they would have temporary tattoos. No go. I even went into what is referred to as a “Smoke Shop.” In my high school and college days we would have called that a head shop. You know, where they sell tobacco wrapping papers and hookah pipes and pipes for other uses as well.

As an aside, let me just tell you that the young man working in this so-called smoke shop was quite surprised to see me walk in. But he was as nice as could be to me. It was a no-go on the tattoos and he referred me back to the party store, likely thinking a Cinderella tattoo was just what I was looking for.

In the end, Bill printed out a scorpion and we glued it to my arm. He took my photo and we sent it to Addie via her mom’s phone, and waited for the reply.

It came a bit later. A text from her mom’s phone:

“Nana, this is Addie here. Nice try. I knew you were lying so I scrolled up only to find your earlier conversation with mom. You two should have made this a separate text.”

See? Getting pranking lessons from my 11-year-old granddaughter.

Anyway, she went on to say, “Maggie fell off the zipline this morning and broke her arm. She chose a purple cast.”

Panicked, I telephoned immediately to find out little Maggie’s broken bone status, and was greeted with nothing but laughter. Yes, my friends, April Fools. A new story for Addie to tell.

Today’s recipe is a grilled side dish.

Grilled Garlic Potatoes, courtesy Allrecipes.com

Ingredients

6 medium baking potatoes, peeled and thinly sliced

1 large white onion, sliced

3 T. butter, sliced

3 cloves garlic, minced

1 t. chopped fresh parsley

salt and pepper to taste

1 c. shredded Cheddar cheese

Process

Preheat grill for high heat. Arrange potato slices, separated by onion and butter slices, on a large piece of aluminum foil. Top with garlic, and season with parsley, salt, and pepper. Tightly seal potatoes in the foil

Place on the preheated grill and cook 20 minutes, turning once, or until potatoes are tender.

Sprinkle potatoes with Cheddar cheese,reseal foil packets, and continue cooking 5 minutes, until cheese is melted.

20Mar2014

Two Miles High

Posted in Main Course, Meat Dishes, Recipes, Side Dishes, Whimsies by kzmclain

Between my freshman and sophomore years of college, my parents moved to Leadville, Colorado. My dad had sold the bakery in Nebraska and bought another one in Leadville. Living in the mountains of Colorado had been a lifelong dream of both Dad and Mom.

It hadn’t, however, been a lifelong dream for me. I was perking along happily at the University of Nebraska when they announced they were going to leave. So long, farewell, auf wiedersehen, goodbye.

Whaaaaat?

So I scrambled to find an aunt and uncle that would allow me to use their address as my home address so I could continue to pay in-state tuition at NU (not kosher then; not kosher now; sorry state of Nebraska). I drove out with my family to Leadville when they moved all their things from what had been home for almost all of their lives. Dad was the only one who had seen the bakery and the town. The rest of the family was moving sight unseen.

It was the first week in June, and as we came down the pass from Dillon to Leadville, it was snowing. I will never forget that. Snowing in June. I had a bad feeling.

We drove past the molybdenum mine outside of town (which employed probably 95 percent of the working population). The mine had taken over the mountain and pretty much destroyed the landscape (as mines do). It was not very pretty. My bad feeling grew.

We pulled into the town of Leadville, and it seriously might as well have been 1890 instead of 1974. Though fairly close to Aspen as the crow flies (though a difficult drive over a serious mountain pass to get there), unlike that ritzy mountain town, Leadville’s founding fathers had done very little to spruce the town up. They were likely too busy working in the mine. Leadville was not a tourist community. It was a mining town.

I eventually saw the prettiness in the Mosquito Range surrounding the town and even in the town itself. But it was a big leap from what I was used to in Columbus, Nebraska.

It was a mining town.

I know I keep saying that, but mining truly defined the town. And the people.

I lasted one more year in Nebraska before following my family to Leadville. I lived in Leadville for a year or so before moving to Boulder and completing my education at the University of Colorado. That year in Leadville is one I seriously will never forget. I have been talking about Arizona being the Wild, Wild West. Let me just tell you that the residents of Leadville still had gunfights.

The folks that worked in the mine made pretty good money. It was Union work. Hard work which you couldn’t pay me enough to do, but really good cash. They got paid every two weeks.

Here’s how it went down, at least for many of the Leadville residents.

They would get their paychecks Friday afternoon and make their way to the Safeway (where I spent a year working). They would cash their checks at the service desk, and then buy their groceries for two weeks. They would proceed to the electric company, the bank that held their mortgage, the gas company, etc., and pay their bills with cash. They would then spend the rest of the night — well weekend really — getting drunk and into bar fights.

My mom and dad’s bakery was right on the main street across from the court house. Every other Friday on payday they would lay awake in bed and listen to the fighting going on across the street. Generally knife fights but there was the occasional gun fight.

And then Sunday morning the miners would go to church and Monday morning it was back to work and a normal life.

The mountains outside of town (and they really were walking distance) were dotted with old abandoned mines. At one time, Leadville had been second only to Denver in population because of the gold and (mostly) silver mining. Prior to moving to Leadville, I had never heard of Horace Tabor or his pitiful wife Baby Doe. The Unsinkable Molly Brown’s husband made his money from a mine outside of Leadville.

I loved taking a lunch out into these mountains and sunbathing next to an old mine shaft. Sunbathing season was limited because remember that snow in June?

I have mentioned before that my first taste of real Mexican food was in Leadville. It was at a restaurant called The Grill. I used to order two cheese and onion enchiladas with a fried egg on top. In 1974, the restaurant was kind of sketchy, bordering the unsafe neighborhood (as if our “safe neighborhood” across from the court house, where you had to literally dodge bullets, was so much better). Still, it was not a lovely restaurant but it had very good Mexican food. Thus began my love for Mexican food, the spicier the better.

I returned to Leadville recently and noticed the town leaders are making a concerted effort to clean up the town and attract tourists. The need for tourist dollars became critical when the Climax mine’s business plummeted in the 1990s. I was happy to see the improvement, but somewhat sad to see that The Grill had cleaned itself up and become just another Mexican restaurant. What’s the fun if you don’t have to worry about a potential stabbing?

Living in Leadville changed me in many ways, but not the least is in my food taste. I simply couldn’t live now without Mexican food. It’s one of the things I missed most when we were in Europe for three-and-a-half months. I probably eat Mexican food in some form or another three or four times a week both in Arizona and Colorado.

I recently had my brother over for dinner where I made pollo asado. What an absolutely delicious dish and so pretty to look at. Because the invitation was last minute, I didn’t have time to make the homemade refried beans I had been eager to try after watching a recent Pioneer Woman episode. So I Googled “refried beans canned pinto beans” and came up with what turned out to be a great recipe.

Pollo Asado, courtesy Ree Drummond and Food Network

Ingredients

½ c. olive oil

½ c. orange juice (freshly squeezed if possible; save juiced orange halves)

¼ c. lemon juice (save the juiced fruit)

¼ c. lime juice (save the juiced fruit)

1 t. salt

1 t. black pepper

4 whole garlic cloves, peeled and smashed

16 whole chicken legs

2 whole onions, peeled and quartered

32 soft taco-size flour tortillas

Process

In a bowl, combine the olive oil, orange juice, lemon juice, lime juice, salt, pepper, and garlic cloves. Whisk together.

Place the chicken legs, juiced pieces of fruit and quartered onions in large plastic bags or a bowl. Pour the marinade over the top tossing to combine. Cover with plastic wrap (if using bowl) or seal the bag up and marinate for at least 2 hours. Several hours is better. Toss a few times during the marinating process.

Preheat a grill. Grill the chicken legs until cooked all the way through, turning occasionally so the chicken is cooked on all sides, 10 to 12 minutes.

Separate the tortillas into piles of 16, and then wrap each pile in foil and warm over the grill for 10 to 15 min.

Serve the chicken legs with the warm tortillas.

Quick and Easy Refried Beans, courtesy Allrecipes.com

Ingredients

2 T. canola oil

2 garlic cloves, peeled

2 15-oz cans pinto beans

1 t. cumin

1 t. chili powder

Salt to taste

½ lime, juiced

Process

Heat canola oil in a heavy skillet over medium heat. Cook garlic cloves in hot oil, turning once, until brown on both sides, 4-5 minutes. Smash garlic cloves in skillet with a fork.

Stir in pinto beans, cumin, chili powder, and salt into mashed garlic and cook until beans are thoroughly heated, about 5 minutes. Stir occasionally. Smash bean mixture with a potato masher to desired texture. Squeeze lime juice over smashed beans and stir until combined.

Nana’s Notes: I didn’t use chicken legs for the pollo asado; instead, I used boneless, skinless chicken thighs because I like to cut or tear up the meat and eat it inside the tortilla. Also, keep in mind that Ree Drummond cooks for a large number of people, so adjust your recipe accordingly. I made the same amount of marinade, but cut down on everything else. I marinaded the chicken for 2 hours, and it was absolutely delicious. As for the beans, they are so simple to make and I thought they were really tasty – better than store-bought refried beans. Finally, here in Arizona they have something new and awesome — uncooked tortillas that you simply cook in a fry pan or on a griddle for 30 – 60 seconds until they begin to bubble and brown. They are so simple and so delicious. I found them where they sell the canned biscuits and bread. I’m not sure if they sell them elsewhere. Hope so.

24Feb2014

Man of Many Talents

Posted in Side Dishes by kzmclain

When Bill and I got married, he told me flat out that he didn’t cook. “I will take you out to dinner any night that you don’t want to cook,” he said. “Or we can order pizza any time. But you should know starting off that I don’t cook. I never will. I don’t know how and I don’t care to learn.” Boom.

Fair enough. He has always taken care of the yard and maintained the house splendidly. Now he does that for two houses. I have no complaints. I enjoy cooking, so it all works out.

The other night I was in the mood for a hamburger and onion rings, and we have a Fuddruckers very near our house here in Mesa. I think Fuddruckers is my favorite hamburger joint, and they all went away in Colorado. So we eat at our Fuddruckers here fairly often.

But I started thinking that maybe instead of going out for hamburgers, I could make hamburgers right here in our little home on our little grill. I would get good ground beef, bleu cheese crumbles, and all of the fixins’ that we like at Fuddruckers. Why, I could even make onion rings!

“I’m going to make onion rings,” I said to Bill.

“Great,” he replied. “I’ll help.”

What the……? I’m not sure he has ever offered to help cook. He doesn’t even grill. I think the fact that he currently has no major projects to work on has left him totally confused. Has too much idle time made him forget that he doesn’t like to cook?

“Seriously?” I asked him. “But you don’t like to cook.” Perhaps he’d forgotten.

He proceeded to tell me that when he was a freshman at the University of Illinois, he worked as a bartender at a joint that specialized in homemade onion rings. He claimed he could fry up onion rings as quick as a short-order cook, and he told me they were delicious. Cut-up rings of onions soaked in buttermilk, dipped in a beer batter, and then fried to a golden brown crunch. Wow.

So, he and I made onion rings to accompany our hamburgers that I grilled. He did indeed make up the batter, dip the raw onion rings into said batter, and then drop them into the hot oil on our stove. He fried them to a crispy brown, salted them, and served them up with our burgers.

My friends, they were magnificent. Golden rings of yummy onion. Maybe the best onion rings I’ve ever had. Who knew?

I’m hoping there are perhaps other epicureal mysteries he will yet reveal to me.

Beer Battered Onion Rings, from Recipes Every Man Should Know

Ingredients

1-3/4 c. all-purpose flour

1 t. seasoned salt

1 t. baking powder

½ t. black pepper

1 12-oz bottle beer, preferably dark

2 large sweet onions, such as Bermuda, Vidalia or Walla Walla, slicewd into ½ in. thick rounds and separated into rings

Canola oil for frying

Process

In a medium bowl, combine the flour, seasoned salt, baking powder, and pepper. Slowly add beer. Set aside.

Place onion rings in a bowl of ice water and let chill for 15 minutes. Remove onion from water and pat dry with paper towels. Fill a medium heavy bottomed pot with 2 inches of canola oil and heat to 370 degrees. (It’s ready when a little batter dropped into the oil bubbles amd floats immediately to the top.) Dip each onion ring in batter, letting excess drip into the bowl.

Fry onion rings in batches, being careful not to over crowd. Cook 1-2 minutes per side or until golden brown. If they’re too dark, lower the heat. Transfer to a paper-towel-lined plate to drain.

Nana’s Notes: In deference to Bill’s gig at the college bar, instead of soaking the onion rings in ice water, I soaked them in cold buttermilk. He removed them from the buttermilk, placed them in the batter, let the excess batter drip from the onion ring, and then placed them in the hot oil. Immediately after removing them and placing them on the paper-towel-lined plate, he salted them. They were delicious. But my grease-covered stove afterwards reminded me why we won’t be making homemade onion rings frequently!

4Feb2014

Hail Mary, Full of Grace

Posted in Side Dishes by kzmclain

As I said at the beginning of the year, instead of making vague and mostly unrealistic “New Year’s Resolutions” I was going to set a goal at the beginning of each month, and see if I can meet my goal. For January, I vowed to increase the level of water I consume. I was very specific, as I vowed I would be. I said my goal was that I would drink eight glasses of water a day.

So, how did I do? So-so, really. I definitely increased the amount of liquids I consumed. I seldom actually drank eight glasses of water a day. I did, however, almost always drink at least six glasses of liquid a day (and that didn’t count wine or martinis, Smarty Pantses). I had a rather lively conversation this month about what can count as liquid, and I refer you to this article on WebMD. See? Coffee DOES count. Neener, neener, neener. (This, by the way, is probably what Eli Manning is saying to his brother Peyton these days when talk turns to Super Bowl rings. But, I digress.)

By and large, I am more aware of my body’s need for fluid. In fact, I bought the water bottle pictured above at Target. It holds 24 oz. of liquid. I try, and am almost always successful, to drink one bottle each day. Big improvement.

On to my February goal……

This month I am dedicated to work on my prayer life. I want to pray more and better. I don’t think I’m a great pray-er. Each time I pray, in the back of my mind I am thinking, “Why would God listen to me when so many people are praying right now, right this very minute?” I know the answer is Because He’s God, but I can’t seem to shake that thought.

Since I am committed to making my goals specific, I plan on adding a specific prayer to my day – a daily rosary. My non-Catholic readers are saying, “Oh, bah!” My Catholic readers are smiling. In my way of thinking, the rosary is nearly perfect prayer. Keep in mind, I’m not saying IT’S THE PERFECT PRAYER. I am saying that the rosary is nearly perfect, at least for me.

People who don’t understand the Catholic faith often misconstrue Catholics’ devotion to Mary. Catholics do not pray to Mary, we pray with Mary. We ask Mary to pray for us. In the same way that we might ask a friend or sister or priest to pray for us or for a special devotion, we ask Mary to pray for us. That’s it. It’s not complicated. I have always had a special devotion to Mary because she is a woman – like me – and a mother – like me. When I had issues with my son as he grew up, I loved being able to ask Mary to pray for me because she knows what it is like to worry about your children and want to prevent them from making mistakes. God answers prayers, not Mary. But Mary is a good person to have in your camp, no?

The rosary is simple: In its most basic form, it consists of four prayers – the Lord’s Prayer, the Hail Mary, the Glory Be, and the Apostles Creed.

The Apostles Creed is simply a declaration of our beliefs as Christians. The Lord’s Prayer is Jesus’ own words of prayer, how he taught us to pray. The Glory Be is a simple prayer to God in the Blessed Trinity. Hail Mary is a prayer encompassing the Biblical words of Elizabeth to Mary when she came to call on her: Hail Mary, full of grace; the Lord is with you. Blessed are you amongst women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb. It ends with us asking Mary to pray for us.

With each rosary, you go through a period of time in Jesus’ life on earth. Each rosary looks at a different part of Jesus’ life and work. As you pray, you ponder. The prayer is repetitive and therefore meditative, at least to me. Yesterday morning, out of curiosity, I did a test. I took my blood pressure before I said my rosary, and then again just after. My blood pressure decreased by 20 points. I kid you not. I’m not implying that this was any kind of miracle; I’m only saying that the rosary provides 15 minutes of peace in my life. It calms me.

As I say my rosary each day this month, I will be saying it for a specific intention. And Mary will be at my side.

As an aside, my mother was a big fan of the rosary. She said it often. Her rosary, at least the rosary she had in the final years of her life, was silver, with the tiniest little beads you can imagine. It made sense because my mother was a tiny woman with small fingers. The rosary was perfect for her. Square beads, as I recall. She died with it in her hands. It is remarkable and sad to me to recall that we all neglected to ask for that rosary after she died. I’m sure it got lost somewhere in the hospital laundry. I hope someone found it and uses it with the same devotion as Mom.

How do you pray? Do you pray? Does it come easy for you?

For dinner last night, given the chilly 50-something degree weather in the evening, I made a pot of chili. To go with it, I made Toasted Cheesy Bread.

Toasted Cheesy Bread

Ingredients
Texas Toast
Butter
Seasoned Salt
Mozerella cheese, shredded
Parmesan cheese, grated

Process
Preheat oven to 400 degrees.
Take out the number of slices of toast you wish to make. Spread generously with butter. Sprinkle seasoned salt onto the bread. Cover with both cheeses.

Bake for 5 – 7 minutes, until cheese is melted and browned.

Nana’s Notes: I put the bread on a pizza stone to crisp up.

24Dec2013

Grinch

Posted in Recipes, Side Dishes by kzmclain

Then he slithered and slunk, with a smile most unpleasant
Around the whole room, and he took every present!
Pop guns! And bicycles! Roller skates! Drums!
Checkerboards! Tricycles! Popcorn! And plums!
And he stuffed them in bags. Then the Grinch, very nimbly,
Stuffed all the bags, one by one, up the chimney!
Then he slunk to the icebox. He took the Whos’ feast!
He took the Who-pudding! He took the roast beast!
He cleaned out that icebox as quick as a flash.
Why, that Grinch even took their last can of Who-hash!
Then he stuffed all the food up the chimney with glee.
“And NOW!” grinned the Grinch, “I will stuff up the tree!” – From How the Grinch Stole Christmas by Dr. Seuss

Well, today is Christmas Eve Day, and I feel like the Grinch. I’m going to spend much of the day taking down Christmas.

I am undecorating the house, of course, because we are leaving very early tomorrow for our drive to Arizona for the winter. I will start the day by cleaning out the refrigerator, throwing out every last thing that won’t last until we get back. Just like the Grinch. Then I will remove the ornaments and stuff the tree up into the attic (again, similar to the actions of the Grinch).

The winter of 2013 was the first in which we spent the entire first four months of the year in Arizona. Up until then, we had spent a few weeks here and there. Last year we committed. So taking down decorations Christmas Eve, packing up the car, and leaving Christmas Day is our new tradition. As long as the weather cooperates. This year it will.

As I approached Christmas Eve this year, I recalled a funny Christmas Eve tradition we had when I was a child. For some years, Santa came Christmas Eve night while we slept, just as tradition dictates. But at some point my mom and dad, for reasons unclear, decided Santa should come Christmas Eve before we went to bed. So, around 5 o’clock, we would pile into our car to drive around town and look at the Christmas light displays. Every year, Dad would have a reason to go back into our house, where he would spend a bit of time taking all of the presents that he and Mom had hidden in their bedroom and putting them under the Christmas tree. He would come out looking very innocent, and we equally innocently never suspected a thing. We would spend about an hour looking at lights, and would return to find that Santa had come to our house when we were gone!

I asked Bill yesterday if he remembers the feeling of coming into the living room and seeing that Santa had come. Despite his 71 years of life, he admitted that he remembers that feeling as if it were yesterday. What magic. He also shared that he remembers being 30-something and putting together bikes or game tables or scooters in his pajamas at 2 o’clock in the morning. “And there were always screws missing,” he recalled. No magic there.

Last night I made my own version of a Who Feast and our son and his family came for dinner and gift-opening. And a feast it was. Racks of lamb, shredded brussel sprouts with pine nuts and bacon, mashed potatoes, cream puffs for dessert. Yum. Sent the Who Feast leftovers home with the kids.

And gifts – dolls and pjs and sock monkeys and ornaments – lots of happy faces. Then goodbye to more grandchildren until we see them again.

Bill and I will be busy packing up our things today for our time in Arizona. Sad to say goodbye to this home, but happy to say hello to our other home.

Hope Santa finds his way to your house, and here is my recipe for the delicious brussel sprouts. Try them even if you think you don’t like brussel sprouts. They’re delicious.

Shredded Brussel Sprouts (from allrecipes)

Ingredients
½ lb. sliced bacon
¼ c. butter
2/3 c. pine nuts
2 lbs. Brussels sprouts, cored and shredded
3 green onions, minced
1/2 t. seasoning salt
Pepper to taste

Process
Place bacon in a large, deep skillet. Cook over medium-high heat until crisp. Drain, reserving 3 t. grease, crumble and set aside.

In the same skillet, melt butter in with reserved bacon grease over medium heat. Add pine nuts and cook, stirring, until browned. Add Brussels sprouts and green onions to the pan, and season with seasoning salt and pepper. Cook over medium heat until sprouts are wilted and tender, 10 – 15 min. Stir in crumbled bacon just before serving.

26Nov2013

Abbodanza!

Posted in Recipes, Side Dishes by kzmclain

I have told you how much I love Thanksgiving, but I’m aware that this holiday isn’t as happy for some people. Perhaps, for example, they live far away from home and are looking at the grim prospect of eating a turkey TV dinner in front of their television, all by themselves.

It is for that very reason that I have often included non-family members at my holiday table. Perhaps one of our kids’ college roommate who can’t make it home for Thanksgiving, or a newly-divorced friend facing their first holiday alone. When it comes to our holiday table, anyone who lands there is part of the family.

When Bill was much younger, he was faced with the prospect of a Thanksgiving alone. For most of the time that he was in the Army, he was stationed at Frankfort Arsenal in Philadelphia. It was too far for him to make it home to Chicago on that first Thanksgiving that he was away. He was kindly invited to eat Thanksgiving dinner with the family of a friend who was of Italian descent.

Bill says he sat at the enormous table surrounded by the raucous and joyful family, and he really felt at home. The first food to come out of the kitchen was a huge antipasto plate filled with roasted red peppers and salami and cheese and tomatoes and spicy peppers and artichoke hearts and olives. Delicious, he recalls. He filled his plate.

Soon after, his friend’s mother brings to the table a huge platter of spaghetti and meatballs. Bill says he clearly remembers thinking, “Well, this is certainly not the traditional Thanksgiving meal that I’m used to, but boy, is it ever delicious. I’m just going to enjoy it.” He commenced loading his plate with a big helping of the delicious pasta, and eating and loving every bite.

He was really getting going on the spaghetti when he hears his friend say to his mother, “Mama, how is the turkey coming?” Bill said he laughed out loud, amused at the joke about having turkey after all of the food they had already eaten.

But he laughed too soon, because Mama got out of her chair, went into the kitchen, and began bringing out all of the traditional Thanksgiving food – a great big turkey, dressing, mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, green beans, and so forth. Poor Bill; all that food and not much more room in his stomach!

The meal, he recalls ended with Mama bringing out platters of dates and candied fruit and nuts in addition to the traditional Thanksgiving pies. The meal concluded with cigars and Bushmill’s Irish Whiskey for the men, and washing many, many dishes for the women. Some things are the same in all cultures!

His story always reminds me that every family has its own traditions, even if they aren’t quite as unique as Bill’s meal with the Italian American family. We all have our own dressing recipes. Some families have a special cranberry salad; others open a can of jellied cranberries. Sweet potato casseroles can be sweet or savory. Jello salad or no jello salad?

But what is generally the same, no matter the traditions, is the family and friends gathered together, thankful for the gifts they have been given over the past year. The sound of children playing and noisy kitchens. Football games as background noise. Leftovers somewhere around 9 o’clock. Even if the leftovers are warmed up spaghetti and meatballs.

Now for another Thanksgiving recipe…..

My mother never, as far as I recall, made her gravy any way except from the little packets. I don’t know why this was so, though it perhaps had something to do with the fact that she mostly prepared the meal all by herself. Perhaps making turkey gravy from scratch just felt to her like the straw that broke the camel’s back. All I know is that I grew up thinking that gravy must be really difficult to make, so for many years I did the same thing – gravy from the little packets.

Now I know that making gravy is really very easy, and I do so often (though I must admit that I still occasionally use the packets if I am making something just for Bill and me). But a number of years ago, I found this recipe for gravy that you make ahead, and it is such a cinch that I have done it every year since.

Make-Ahead Turkey Gravy, Women’s Day Magazine, November 15, 2005

Ingredients
4 turkey wings (3-4 lbs.)
2 onions, pulled and quartered
8 c. chicken broth
¾ c. chopped carrots
½ t. dried thyme
¾ c. flour
2 T. butter
½ t. freshly ground pepper

Process
Heat oven to 400 degrees. Have ready a large roasting pan, a 5-6 qt. pot and a 3 qt. saucepan. Put wings in a single layer in the roasting pan, scatter the onions on top. Roast 1-1/4 hours, or until wings are browned.

Put wings and onions in the pot. Add 6 c. broth (refrigerate remaining 2 c.), the carrots and thyme. Bring to boil, reduce heat and simmer uncovered, 1-1/2 hours.

Remove wings and allow to cool. When cool, pull off skin and meat. Discard skin; save meat for another use. Strain broth into saucepan, pressing vegetables to extract liquid. Discard vegetables; skim fat.

Whisk flour into remaining 2 c. broth until blended and smooth.

Bring broth in the saucepan to a gentle boil. Whisk in the flour mixture and boil 4 – 5 min. to thicken gravy and remove floury taste. Stir in butter and pepper.

Freeze up to one month. When serving, add pan drippings from the turkey to the hot gravy.

Makes 8 cups.

Nana’s Notes: I frequently have been unable to find turkey wings, so I substitute turkey legs. Also, since I am generally cooking for the mighty hordes, I have to at a minimum double the recipe. That has always worked fine. Finally, make sure you strain out the grease from the pan drippings if you use them at the end. Making the gravy ahead is just one less thing you have to do at the very end when it seems so chaotic getting the food on the table, and the gravy is really very good.

25Nov2013

Thanks for the Memories

Posted in Recipes, Side Dishes by kzmclain

Thanksgiving has always been my favorite holiday. I like that it’s all about food and family. No need to worry about gift buying for a few days yet. At least, there’s no need to worry about gifts in my world. I recognize that there is an ensuing controversy about stores opening on Thanksgiving. I’m not going to weigh in. I would never choose to shop on Thanksgiving, and never have been one to shop on Black Friday. I would rather watch football any day.

This week I’m going to reminisce about three Thanksgiving memories. I will be taking the remainder of the week off to spend with family and football!

The week of Thanksgiving was always a really busy time at the bakery when I was growing up – probably the busiest time of the year. I can’t even begin to think how many dozens of Parker House rolls we sold the Tuesday and Wednesday before the holiday. And bread. And pumpkin pies. And sweet rolls to munch on for breakfast before the great feast.

So Mom and Dad were very tired by time Thanksgiving Day hit. Nevertheless, my mother put on one heck of a spread each year, and set a beautiful table. If we ever ate elsewhere, it was only once or twice throughout my entire childhood.

Our home was small – probably 1,200 square feet. It had three bedrooms, one bathroom, a kitchen with room for a small table, a living room and a dining room. The dining room was formally used three times a year – Easter, Thanksgiving, and Christmas. Informally, that’s often where I did my homework.

My mom and dad earned a modest living. They ably supported their family, but I doubt there was a lot left over. Nevertheless, I recall my mom had nice dining room furniture, all a light colored wood. She had a table that had several leaves which would come out on holidays, and a matching buffet. The room was pretty, with a big window that faced our back yard, and a blonde spinet piano on which each of the girls learned to play (some better than others – sigh). The piano stool had a secondary use as a spare chair on holidays.

Mom didn’t have fancy china. However, one of the grocery stores in town, as part of a promotional effort, offered pretty Currier & Ives dishware. Spend a certain amount and you earn a dinner plate, or a cup and saucer, or a salad plate, and so forth. Over a long period of time, Mom completed a set of 12, and that became our “good china.” She used it only on those same three holidays. One of my sisters has the set. It’s funny; I have a lovely set of Royal Doulton china, but I’m ever so happy when I go to my sister’s house for a holiday and see the Currier & Ives laid out.

We had no surprises as part of our Thanksgiving meal. The feature item was an oven roasted turkey, with traditional sides of mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, broccoli and cauliflower in a cheese sauce, and her delicious dressing, with the recipe below. Every family has their favorite. For my family, it’s not Thanksgiving without Mom’s sausage dressing. No fancy cranberry salad – just sliced jellied cranberries from the can, and Mom smeared hers with mayo. Yuck. For dessert, pumpkin pie and freshly whipped cream. (By the way, we always used granulated sugar – and lots of it – for our whipped cream. To this day, if I can’t feel a little bit of sugar between my teeth when I eat whipped cream, I’m disappointed. No powdered sugar for me!)

And no Thanksgiving memory is complete without mentioning that the Nebraska v. Oklahoma game back in those days was almost always held the Saturday after Thanksgiving. Man, now that was a rivalry.

As I recall Thanksgivings over the next couple of days, I would love to hear from some of you about your Thanksgiving memories.

Mom’s Sausage Dressing (exactly as written on the recipe card)

Ingredients
1 lb. pork sausage (not hot)
½ c. chopped onion
1 c. chopped celery (some leaves)
7 c. dry bread cubes
½ c. milk
1 can Golden Mushroom Soup
1 T. parsley (dry will do)
½ scant t. salt
¾ t. poultry seasoning
½ t. leaf sage

Process
Brown sausage. Add onions and celery. Cook until tender. Add 3 c. bread cubes. Cook until moistened. Stir frequently. Combine soup and milk. Heat, do not boil. Stir until smooth. Add seasonings to remaining bread cubes. Combine mixtures.

Nana’s Notes: That’s how my mother’s recipe ends. However, I place the mixture in a large aluminum pan and put it in the oven for 30 to 45 min., depending on the amount of dressing and whether or not it was prepared earlier and refrigerated. If that’s the case, you might want to bring it to room temperature before putting it in the oven. Remember, it is completely cooked, so you only are aiming to heat it through. I think my mother ended her recipe where she did because for many years she would then stuff the turkey with the dressing, leaving a bit for a separate casserole dish. She stopped doing that when they began warning about the possibility of food poisoning.

19Nov2013

Kitchen Update

Posted in Main Course, Meat Dishes, Recipes, Side Dishes by kzmclain

Some friends of ours are selling their beautiful loft/condominium in the Golden Triangle area in downtown Denver. It’s interesting that some of the feedback they are getting is that the kitchen is supposedly in DIRE need of updating. The condo is 15 years old or so, and really lovely. The countertops are granite, the floors are hardwood. Apparently the fact that it has an electric stove and the appliances aren’t stainless steel makes it a no-go, my friends.

Bill and I recently talked about people’s varying needs to update their kitchens as we were discussing his mother’s cooking. Wilma, who is an amazing 96 years old, now lives in an independent apartment in a retirement community. Prior to that, she lived in their family home in a beautiful old neighborhood on the south side of Chicago. They moved into that home somewhere around 1952 or 1953. Envision the appliances in a kitchen circa 1952. Fast forward to the year 2000, and imagine that those very same appliances are in that house. And they all work perfectly. We were at a museum recently that featured a 1950s kitchen and Bill said, “Look, it’s Mom’s kitchen appliances!” And it really was.

This is not particularly a commentary on how in 2013 we all need the best and coolest kitchens available. It’s really more of a testament on how well things were built years ago compared to today. For example, Bill’s parents received a toaster as a wedding gift when they were married in 1939 or 1940. Until eight or nine years ago, Wilma used that very same toaster. It would break; Rex would fix it. Can you imagine taking the time to fix a toaster today? It was with great consternation that Wilma finally agreed to buy a new toaster. I remember Bill saying to her, “Well, Mom, you could call the manufacturer and see if they have the parts for a GE toaster, Series ONE.” She, as I recall, was not amused.

Bill’s father Rex loved nothing more than to fix things. Wilma has told me that when Rex would come home from work and she would tell him that her washing machine was making funny noises, he could hardly contain himself through dinner in his eagerness to get downstairs and start taking the washer apart. I can understand because the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, and Bill is a fixer himself.

Occasionally I will look at my quite dated kitchen and start thinking about updating it. Bill will listen to me, and then he will say, “WWWD?” That’s our code for “What would Wilma do.” My appliances work, the marks on my hardwood floor show it’s been well used, my kitchen table has knicks in it and stains on it because kids and grandkids have colored, played with play dough, pounded their baby spoons, and otherwise been comfortable sitting there. I guess I don’t mind the weathered look of the table.

No updates to my kitchen for a while.

This week I’m not really following a cooking theme; I’m just cooking what sounds good to me. And today Beef Stew sounded good. I saw Ree Drummond make a stew with root vegetables recently, and that’s the recipe I used. It was every bit as good as it looked.

Beef Stew with Root Vegetables, courtesy Ree Drummond

Ingredients
3 T. olive oil
1 T. butter
2 lbs. beef stew meat
3 cloves garlic, minced
1 medium onion, diced
1 can or bottle beer
4 c. beef broth, more as needed
1 T. Worcestershire sauce
2-3 T. tomato paste
1-1/2 t. sugar
½ t. paprika
½ t. kosher salt
Freshly ground black pepper
2 carrots, roughly sliced
2 parsnips, roughly sliced
1 small turnip, roughly sliced 2 T. flour, optional
Minced fresh parsley, for garnish

Process
Heat the oil and butter in a pan and brown the beef. Remove the beef from the pan, throw in the garlic and onions and cook until softened, about 3 min. Pour in beer, beef broth, Worcestershire sauce, tomato paste, sugar, paprika, salt and pepper. Then return the beef to the pan, cover and simmer on a low heat until the meat is very tender, 1-1/2 to 2 hours. If the liquid level gets too low, add more broth as needed.

Add the carrots, parsnips and turnips and continue to simmer until the vegetables are tender and liquid is reduced, about 30 min.

If the stew is still too liquidy, remove a cup of cooking liquid from the pan and stir in the flour, Add flour mixture back into the pan and stir. Simmer for 10 minutes until the stew is thick. The meat should be very tender; if it’s tough, let it continue to cook.

To finish, add the parsley and stir through the stew.

I also made a batch of Kentucky Biscuits, from a recipe I found on Pinterest.

Kentucky Biscuits

Ingredients
2 c. flour
1-1/2 t. baking powder
½ t. baking soda
2 T. sugar
Dash of salt
½ c. butter
¾ c. buttermilk (Don’t have buttermilk? No problem, just add 1 or 2 T. vinegar to milk)

Process
Mix dry ingredients. Cut in butter, add milk and knead into soft dough. Do not over knead! Pat into an ungreased 6 X 6 pan. I use a pie pan. Cut into serving size portions before you cook. Bake at 400 degrees for 15-20 min. or until done and golden brown.

Nana’s Notes: I halved the beef stew recipe for Bill and me, and it worked great. Enough for two large bowls of stew. As for the Kentucky Biscuits, they were delicious; however, I’ve never made them before so I have no idea if they were the right consistency. Mine were sort of like corn bread. Also, next time I would grease the pie pan. Very good drizzled with honey.

29Aug2013

Eating With Bugs

Posted in Recipes, Side Dishes by kzmclain

When it comes right down to it, I’m not sure why people like picnics. While you have the opportunity to eat your food at a clean and dry kitchen table without getting bitten by mosquitoes, you choose instead to eat at a very dirty table surrounded by bugs and other of God’s not-so-stellar ideas (though I’m sure they are all part of his plan and he didn’t ask me), eating with and on plastic.

Having said that, I will tell you that I love picnics. Always have. Always will.

My mom was a good picnicker. Several times in the summer she would pack up a basket or box of picnic standbys — fried chicken, cole slaw, deviled eggs, and her Three-Day-Dill pickles – and schlep it all out to Pawnee Park, along with the rest of us. She would lay a tablecloth on the picnic table and set out the picnic. My brother and sisters and I would play on the playground toys for a bit and then join her and my dad for our picnic dinner.

My husband and I picnicked our way through France a few years ago. We speak no French, and since the language is not intuitive to me (what with all them thar silent letters), and the French people have little-to-no interest in helping out, ordering food in a restaurant was a bit intimidating. Picnics were the answer. We could sign language our way in the grocery markets to getting a baguette, some pate, some olives, a hunk of smelly cheese, and some wine. Many a meal was spent at a table along the side of a road (ideally underneath one of the really beautiful crucifixes many French grape growers had at the corner of their vineyards) or even just on the bed of our hotel room.

I’m happy to say that my love for picnicking has been passed on to my grandkids, all of whom love to take food out to the nearest park and eat. They agree with me that, despite the bugs, everything tastes better outdoors.

Here is my mom’s cole slaw recipe.

Nana's Whimsies

Musings of a Baby Boomer….

Category Archives: Side Dishes

Bunny Up

Pranked!

Two Miles High

Man of Many Talents

Hail Mary, Full of Grace

Grinch

Abbodanza!

Thanks for the Memories

Kitchen Update

Eating With Bugs