Category: Food

I plead guilty


Photo by Woody Welch

Every serious cook has a trashy side. Or ought to. Julia Child said, “In cooking you’ve got to have a ‘What the hell?’ attitude.” Yep. Or as a friend of mine says, “Anything’s good if you put enough butter in it.”

So it is without shame that I post the photo of the cake I made last week for Valentine’s Day — chocolate apple sauce cake with maraschino cherry icing. It was all made from scratch, though of course the cherries came out of a jar. I looked for maraschino cherries at Whole Foods, but they didn’t have them. So I stopped at the Dollar General.

Ken Ilgunas stopped at the abbey overnight last week on the way to the Washington for the rally against the Keystone XL pipeline. He was traveling with Woody Welch, a professional photographer who had with him an awesome Nikon D4 camera with some interesting lenses. Woody took the cake photo. Ken will return to the abbey next month. Stay tuned.

Update: Several people have asked about the recipe for this cake. I shall do my best. I got the recipe from my mother, who I believe got it from her mother. If I recall the family lore correctly, my version of the recipe is an alternative version. I believe the original included walnuts and even raisins. But I suspect that my mother eliminated those ingredients because they weren’t popular with the children. This is the cake that I and my siblings requested on birthdays. My copy of the recipe is written on a piece of notebook paper, in pencil, and lives inside my 1943 edition of The Joy of Cooking. Even this notebook-paper version is probably 40 years old. It contains a list of ingredients, nothing more. It’s just assumed that people know how to mix up a cake. I will add in some basic instructions here.

If you like light, ethereal cakes, this may not be the cake for you. There are no eggs. The only liquid ingredient is apple sauce. It makes a dense, moist cake that will easily keep three days.

First bowl:

1 cup sugar
1/2 cup butter
1/2 cup cocoa
1 1/2 cups apple sauce

Cream the butter and sugar together. Add the cocoa and apple sauce and mix well. Really well.

Second bowl, larger:

2 cups plain flour
2 teaspoons soda
1 1/2 teaspoons cinnamon
1 1/2 teaspoons nutmeg

Sift the flour and soda into the bowl. Mix in the spices. Stir in the liquid ingredients. Beat briskly until everything is well mixed. This will be a fairly thick batter. Divide the batter into two 9-inch cake pans that have been buttered and dusted with flour. Spread the batter fairly evenly into the pan. It will even out while it’s baking.

Bake in a 350-degree oven. Use the toothpick test to determine if the cake is done. Insert a toothpick into the center of the cake. When the toothpick comes out clean, the cake is done. This should take about 15 minutes. Be careful! The easiest way to ruin this cake is to underbake or overbake it. I start the toothpick test after 12 or 13 minutes, then retest every minute until the cake is done. Take it out of the oven as soon as a toothpick (or match stick) comes out clean.

Empty the cake pans onto two pieces of waxed paper on a flat surface and let them cool thoroughly.

Icing

I think this cake works best with a simple, uncooked, white icing. I usually cream 2 cups of powdered sugar with 1/2 cup of butter. Add just enough milk or cream to get the right consistency. Add a teaspoon of vanilla extract. A teaspoon or so of nutmeg works great in this icing. For Valentine’s Day, drain some maraschino cherries, chop them, and add enough cherries to the icing to get the color you want.

Umami again: pasta (or rice) with seared cabbage


Like most photos on this blog, clicking on the image will bring up a higher-resolution version.

Searing cabbage is an Asian touch, and it’s smart. Searing brings out the best flavors in cabbage. Nor do you have to scorch it. Cabbage browns easily with moderate heat and no smoking, as long as you use an oil (such as sunflower oil) suitable for the heat.

I made this dish with pasta. My Celtic digestive system gets along with wheat much better than with rice, but your mileage may vary. Slice the cabbage as thin as possible. Sear it in a skillet until it’s nicely browned. Proudly sneak in some monosodium glutamate, about 1/8 or 1/4 teaspoon per serving. You don’t need to add any salt. Make a sauce by trickling water into miso until it’s the thickness of gravy. Proudly sneak in a dash of ketchup. To the cooked pasta, add olive oil, some toasted walnuts, some parmesan, and some raisins. Pile the pasta and cabbage on a plate, then spoon some of the sauce over both of them. There’s more than enough salt in the miso alone.

The umami here comes from the monosodium glutamate, the miso, the parmesan, the ketchup and probably from the browned cabbage as well, since the umami flavor is a very brown flavor. I’m not going to include any apologetics here on the use of monosodium glumatate, which I’ve blogged about several times. In fact, I’m creating a new category of posts named “Umami.” I am of the opinion — until I see scientific evidence that might change my mind — that monosodium glutamate is a natural and harmless product that can do wonders for food and that deserves to be rehabilitated. I’m on a quest to get more umami into my cooking. Being snobbish about things like ketchup or monosodium glutamate serves no purpose. Are the Scottish snobbish about sheep bones? We must work with what’s available.

What young'uns used to eat


The school cafeteria staff, circa 1960. Mrs. Martin is on the left.

When I was in elementary school, we called the school cafeteria “Miss Martin’s Slop Shop.” Mrs. Martin has gone on to her reward, but we all owe her such an apology.

I have often thought about Mrs. Martin’s made-from-scratch cooking and how lucky we were to have it. I remember many times walking in line with the other kids, outdoors to avoid making noise inside the school building, to the side door of the cafeteria. The wonderful smells wafting out the open windows of the cafeteria would hit. I particularly remember Mrs. Martin’s scratch-made rolls (I always had seconds and thirds), her amazing vegetable soup, and her apple crisp.

An alumnus of the school recently put out a book of old photographs made between 1927 and 1967. I cannot find a single overweight child in this book, and certainly not an obese child. We did have snack foods in those days — chips, Moon Pies, and all that. And all kids got snack food and candy, though never at school. We had ice cream in the afternoons. And desserts. But everyone was lean.

I’m not going to get into a rant about our industrialized, de-localized, factory-driven food system. But here’s a plug for cooking from scratch…

By the way, the scraps that the kids didn’t eat were collected into a large container, and a farmer in the area fed the scraps to his hogs. Nothing went to waste, either.


The serving line at Courtney School, circa 1960. Courtney school is in the heart of the Yadkin Valley.

In search of umami, first follow-up

In my first post on umami, I mentioned that I would see if I could find some MSG at Whole Foods and also pick up some kombu seaweed, which is said to be high in umami.

Whole Foods is just about as MSG free as it is possible to be. I asked a spice captain if they carry any form of MSG. He was vaguely aware of the concept of umami and the doubts about the decades-long demonization of MSG, but the answer was still no. No MSG.

When the the guy at the cash register asked me if I found everything I was looking for, I said, “Everything but MSG.” He looked me like I was an alien. When I gave him a brief summary of the case that MSG is not as bad as we’ve been taught to believe and said that I want to experiment with it, I think he thought I was some kind of crank. Oh well. I did at least get some kombu seaweed.

Then I started shopping on Amazon for MSG, reading the reviews and other material to see if any brand said explicitly that it’s made by natural fermentation. One brand, Aji-No-Moto, does say on its web site that the MSG in the United States is made from the fermentation of corn sugar. Still, I wanted to buy MSG from an American company. McCormick & Company sells MSG. They’re an old American company, started in Baltimore, and still have their corporate offices in Maryland. I called them up, told them I’m a blogger, and asked about the source of their MSG. The consumer division passed me to the commercial division, and the commercial division passed me to the regulatory division. They were all very nice, but no one seemed to have any information about the source of their MSG. I decided to just go ahead and order some McCormick MSG from Amazon. I’ll post in the future about my experiments with MSG and what kind of alchemy it’s capable of in the kitchen.

But I can tell you this. MSG is sold in very large commercial quantities to somebody, and I seriously doubt that only Asian restaurants use it. Restaurants that use it probably have to keep it secret. But the demonization or even the rehabilitation of MSG is not my agenda. It’s just that I can’t help but be interested in a natural, apparently harmless substance that apparently can make such a difference in food. I’ve just got to experiment with it in my own kitchen…

Crimes against coffee


Wikipedia: Note the color. Note the small, heavy china cup.

Finally, someone who can be considered authoritative on the subject of coffee says it: black-roasted coffee is wrong, and disgusting.

Let me hasten to add that it’s also wrong of me to refer to someone being authoritative on coffee, because that’s part of the problem. It ought to be self-evident whether coffee is good, without our needing to know what the authorities think. Then we would just take a sip, spit it out, and know that over-roasted coffee is terrible, that coffee drunk from paper cups is terrible, that milk (as opposed to cream) in coffee is terrible, and so on. But I fear that people get their attitudes about coffee in two basic ways. They either like and drink what everybody drinks in their local culture (like the pale, dreadful stump water swill that is drunk around here). Or, aspiring to a higher (or at least more costly) level, they think that the black-roasted stuff sold in places like Starbucks is good. It’s supposed to be fancy, so it’s got to be good, right? Wrong.

Though I have experimented with cheap coffee, to try to keep the coffee bill down, I end up back at Whole Foods. But even Whole Foods doesn’t get it and goes with the fads. Most of the coffees they sell have been roasted black, burnt to a crisp. They dropped one of the two medium roast coffees they’d carried, the one I happened to buy. I had to talk nice to (and try not to talk down to) the coffee captain to get her to start carrying it again. I made a point of saying that all the rest of this stuff is roasted black and has been turned to charcoal. I’m sure she thought I was an alien, or a hick. Doesn’t everybody know that black-roast coffee is all the rage these days?

Starbucks? I won’t drink that stuff. It tastes like charcoal, and you can only get it in paper cups. I was horrified when I first learned that in a Starbucks you don’t even have the option of a china cup. I had been spoiled by the San Francisco coffee houses.

One more rant about coffee, then I’ll shut up and stop trying to be a coffee authority. Throw out your automatic coffee maker if the decanter sits on a hotplate. I don’t understand the fetish for coffee that is boiling, scaldingly hot. It’s too hot to taste (maybe that’s the point). After coffee is brewed, if it is heated from the bottom it blackens in the pot. Or, to say it another way, heat your water, but never heat your coffee. I brew mine by slowly pouring hot water from a kettle into a simple filter cone, from which it drips into a Thermos-type coffee decanter. Then sit down and stay sitting. Relax. Don’t go anywhere. The only other acts you are allowed to indulge in while having your coffee is reading, or talking with someone whom you like to talk with. Drink your coffee out of a heavy china cup or mug that holds no more than 6 or 7 ounces. Then pour another cupful. If you possess a mug that holds more than 6 or 7 ounces, smash it. Don’t give it to Goodwill; that will just keep it in circulation.

There. I got that off my chest. Now go smash your coffee mug and start searching eBay for a decent coffee cup. Institutional cups, the kind they used to use in hotels and restaurants before the big-mug era started, work great. If you buy coffee in bulk, as I do, smell the beans. The scent should be rich and bursting with coffee flavor. If you smell any hints of charcoal or ashes, look elsewhere.

In search of umami


Dingle, County Kerry, Ireland, where I’ve had some wonderful meals and long for more.

As I recall, I encountered the idea of umami a few years ago, but I didn’t pay much attention because I assumed that it was not for real. But this week, while having an email conversation with a friend (thanks, Dean) about my post on Scotch broth, I realized that the idea of umami as a “fifth taste” is very real. The concept of umami also explains some major mysteries in the kitchen.

First, so that I don’t have to repeat the basics about what umami is and what kind of foods contain it, here are links to a couple of articles. The first is the Wikipedia article, and the second is a Wall Street Journal article from 2007.

Aha! Now I know why that sneaky, barely noticeable dash of ketchup wakes up certain dishes. Now I know why I can’t reproduce Scotch broth without sheep bones. Now I understand why it’s difficult to reproduce Asian cooking at home. Now I know why I look longingly at that bottle of tamari (soy sauce) in the refrigerator door but avert my eyes for fear of adding too much salt. Now I understand why miso is so addictive.

And now that we understand umami, what are we going to do about it, especially those of us who tend toward vegetarianism?

For one, it may be time to rethink our demonization of MSG (monosodium glutamate). Though the chemical name sounds scary, it’s actually made from natural fermentation, and it seems that no studies have confirmed its bad rap. So I think that on my next trip to Whole Foods, I’ll see if they carry some form of MSG that is guaranteed to be naturally fermented rather than synthesized. And though I’m no great fan of the taste of seaweed, I also will get some kombu and see what I can do with it.

The theory of umami also explains a mystery about the British Isles that I’ve puzzled over for a long time. Why does English and Welsh cooking tend to be so bland and Irish and Scottish cooking so savory? Solution: The Irish understand umami — in particular the arts of broth-making and sauce-making. Umami probably has to do with why Christopher Kimball, editor of Cook’s Illustrated, says that cooking isn’t easy. You can get cooking 99 percent right, but without that tiny kick of umami, food fails to be thrilling.

Broiled tomatoes


Broiled tomato. Click on photo for larger version.

What are winter tomatoes good for? Not much.

But they are pretty good for one thing: broiling. The unnatural firmness of winter tomatoes actually becomes something of a virtue when the tomato is broiled, because the tomato holds up under the broiler and doesn’t collapse into a puddle. Broiled tomato adds a nice zing to a winter breakfast, not to mention a dose of potassium and lycopene.

Scotch broth (sort of)


Scotch broth. Click on image for larger version.

The best soup I ever had was a bowl of Scotch broth. That was in Edinburgh, in a second-floor restaurant where the waitress called me honey just like they do here.

Like all home cooking, there is no one way to make Scotch broth, and it varies widely. Some has peas, some not. Some uses a stock made from sheep bones. Some uses lamb and is almost a lamb stew. It pretty much always, I think, includes barley. And even though it’s called broth, it’s a thick soup.

I prefer Scotch broth with peas. Start with a good stock. Boil sheep bones if you want to, or some lamb. You want some onions, some celery, a turnip, some carrot, and of course some peas and barley. I have no idea how it’s done in Scotch home kitchens (maybe by simmering it all day?), but to thicken the soup I strain out about two-thirds of the solids, whiz it in the blender, and add it back to the soup. Even so, you’ll still need to simmer the soup for four to six hours or more, as slowly, slowly as possible. You can’t rush Scotch broth.

Though I don’t think it would be done in Scotland, where Scotch broth strictly involves winter vegetables, I like to add some tomato or even tomato paste.

Miso

Only recently did I realize that miso is a living fermented food, like yogurt or sauerkraut. I had observed for many years that recipes usually warn you to add the miso last to soups and not to boil it, but no recipe ever said why, and it had not occurred to me to wonder. I figured it was just one of those things that recipes thoughtlessly repeat though no one knows a reason for it, like not lifting the lid on rice while it’s cooking.

But now I know. Miso is a living fermented food, therefore we must eat it, even if it is salty. But eating miso is not a chore. It makes a great stock for soups. It also enables quick winter soups, because you don’t have to simmer all day to get a proper stock. A friend recommends borscht made with miso. I will try that later today. Miso also makes a great little cup of hot broth. Just add a teaspoon or so to hot water.

The stuff is pricey. I paid more than $9 for a pound of miso yesterday at Whole Foods. Partly I think this is Whole Foods’ high markup. A friend gets the same brand in Asheville for between $6 and $7 a pound. But a little miso goes a long way, and it will keep in the refrigerator for half of eternity. Whole Foods carries about four varieties of miso, I believe, made by Miso Master in Asheville.