A grilled cheese sandwich, fried in butter to crispy perfection and sliced diagonally, sits on a wooden plate on the bright oil cloth table. Next to the sandwich, a bowl of Campbell's tomato soup is classic, placid, delicious. Outside the rain falls on the Oregon woods. I am six years old.
My mother made me grilled cheese sandwiches and Campbell's tomato soup, and the meal still seems like the ultimate comfort food. In theory, I love Campbell's tomato soup. But I can't remember the last time I bought a can of Campbell's or any other type of canned soup. I detest the metallic can flavor, most canned soups have questionable ingredients (hello, high fructose corn syrup), and I consider making soups from scratch a form of leisure entertainment. Enter the flu and my friend Cornelius, who brought me a can of Amy's Thai Coconut Soup, claiming it made him feel better the last time he was sick. Cornelius has pretty good taste in sustenance (his devotion to Chock Full o' Nuts Coffee aside) and the soup is organic and made of whole, recognizable ingredients, so I approached the can with a relatively open mind. (Plus I was really too sick to have any desire to cook anything from scratch.) I found the coconut broth tasty--light, aromatic, pleasantly spiced, and remarkably free of any "can" flavor. It tasted even better when I added a lime, a teaspoon of chili oil, and a few leaves of cilantro, but that's true about homemade Tom Kha too. The soup contains shitaki mushrooms, sweet potatoes, green beans, shallots, tofu, and even kaffir lime leaves. The mushrooms were good (and I don't even like shitakes), and the tofu was chewy, but the vegetables were predictably mushy--the carrots, in large slices, being the worst offenders. That said, I ate the contents of the can in one sitting. Cornelius was right--I did feel better. Overall, a good product, and at 280 calories for a whole can (2 servings) a pretty healthy choice.
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As described in my previous post, I'm trying some recipes from The First Ladies Cookbook. Are you waiting with baited breath? Hayes triumphed over Jefferson in my roast beef conundrum. Weird, I know. I'm fairly certain Jefferson normally trumps Hayes in any category (pesky slave owning aside) and clearly Jefferson could give all of his presidential cohorts a run for their money foodwise. Half the people in this country (this may be a generous estimate) probably wouldn't be able to name Hayes as a president, and when he is remembered, I'm pretty certain it's not as a foodie. Whereas Jefferson is famous for his devotion to the culinary... However, I'm feeling distinctly lazy and Lucy Hayes' recipe looks easier. Also, this is about first ladies right? Jefferson didn't even have a first lady, so Lucy Hayes would triumph by default in a Hayes/Jefferson first lady smackdown.
So roast beef ala Hayes it is. Because I'm feeling lazy, the aforementioned potato puffs will have to wait for later. Roasted potatoes will do. Life is full of hidden challenges. I choose a seemingly unchallenging recipe only to feel the cold snap of Lucy Hayes' teeth on my Achilles tendon. Let's get down to brass tacks: restraint is not one of my more evident qualities as a cook. Although I have learned that moderation in spicing can be a good thing, I tend to make up for any (modest) restraint in that area by using tons of flavorful ingredients: garlic, leeks, scallions, wine, capers, olive oil, Parmesan, bacon grease, chicken stock. Did I mention bacon I rarely cook anything that has fewer than eight ingredients. The ingredients for Lucy Hayes' roast beef? Four. Flour, beef, salt, and pepper. Five if you count hot water. The bland recipe seems fairly in keeping with the Hayes white house. Although Lucy Hayes was the first college graduate first lady, she wasn't exactly a firecracker. The chapter on the Hayes white house is peppered with phrases such as: "Virtue became fashionable, and Lucy was hailed as its defender", "Then to the blue room for family prayers", and "Every night the family gathered in the Red Room to sing old ballads, hymns, and Stephen Foster songs". Lucy became known as "lemonade Lucy" because the Hayes White House had a strict ban on alcohol. A number of ingredients spring to mind as I ready the roast. Ingredients I have around that really would add to the recipe...Perhaps a sprinkle of smoked paprika? Some fresh rosemary? Leeks couldn't possibly hurt...Do I really have to put hot water in the bottom of the pan? Wouldn't stock or wine be better? I heat the oven to 450 degrees. For some reason it has never occurred to me to cook a roast at this high of heat. At first I want to consult other recipes, but as I think about it, it begins to make sense. Steaks are good cooked at high heat for short periods of time, after all. Speaking of short periods of time, the recipe claims that a roast this size (3.5 lbs) should be done in 45 minutes, which seems impossible. I am used to making pot roast, which takes all day. I resist the temptation to add any spices or additional ingredients and dump the floured and salted lump into a pan, ringed only by the potatoes I'm roasting. I do cheat a little and add a splash of wine, my rationalization being this: Lucy and Rutherford B. were teetotalers, so of course it wouldn't occur to them to add wine to a recipe. But probably anyone else cooking this recipe at that time would have added wine as a matter of course, right? Jefferson's recipe calls for wine. I can't be a slave to their inhibitions. Also, I don't want the potatoes to be too dry... After 45 minutes, I check the roast. It smells good and the outside sizzles crispy, but I am still suspicious of the timing. I like rare (read: raw) meat myself, but my roommate Cornelius (purchaser of said roast) eschews bloody beef. I plunge the meat thermometer into the roast, and the arrow doesn't waver. According to the thermometer, the meat doesn't even qualify as rare yet. I cook until I get a rare reading, another 45 minutes. And the results? The roast, like the Hayes administration, is unremarkable. It's tender and juicy enough and doesn't seem to suffer terribly from the lack of spices. However, truth be told, the extremities are overdone. I should have listened to Lucy Hayes. ![]() Two of my great obsessions, cooking and presidential history, collide in the remarkable The First Ladies Cook Book: Favorite Recipes of All the Presidents of the United States, which was published in 1969. A wedding gift from a dear friend of mine, the book is satisfying in so many ways. The aesthetic is very much a product of the era: saturated color prints amp the surreal kitsch of White House interiors, and the photographs of food are reminiscent of old Betty Crocker cookbooks: lurid, glistening roasts flanked by sinister jell-o molds. Nonetheless, the historical research is sound and the book is reasonably well-written. Though as far as I can tell, the most interesting thing about Rutherford and Lucy Hayes was their taste in china patterns (amazing paintings of American flora and fauna, particularly the excellent plates featuring bucks poised in a majestic tableau). But then there's juicier fare: Theodore Roosevelt, for example, was fond of whole suckling pigs. Are you surprised? Perusing the volume is a pleasure and offers piquant lines: "for the stuffing, simmer heart and liver together";"Mrs. (John Quincey) Adams received her guests resplendent in a gown of steel-colored llama cloth with cut steel ornamentation"; "these feet must be well boiled the day before they are wanted"; and the following quote from poor, doomed James Garfield, "It was a pleasant relief from the monotony of the White House to get out for an evening." Today I will be attempting my first recipe from the book. I would, of course, gravitate toward Abigail Adams, but the main recipe in her chapter is salmon stuffed with oysters, which seems a bit fancy for a Tuesday night with no guests, and also requires you to 'lard the fish with skinned eel', whatever that means. I happen to have a roast on hand, so it's either Jefferson's Boeuf a la Mode (Jefferson is, of course, one of my presidential obsessions, and the recipe involves bacon) or Hayes' Roast Beef with Potato Puffs (the roast recipe sounds easy and the potato puffs sound delicious). Updates pending. Bourdain intersperses stories from his culinary life with essays (read: rants) on the restaurant business. His descriptions of kitchen life and the patois of kitchen crews are hilarious, and reminded me of the insane chefs, restaurant owners, and kitchen minions who are near and dear to my own heart. The book would have been better as an actual memoir (with the essays published separately), but the somewhat random structure didn't ruin the read. Although Bourdain can come off as a blowhard, it's clear that he is also thoughtful, introspective, and genuinely, sometimes hazardously, curious. Curiosity rates high on my list of admirable qualities. I'll be keeping an eye out for his other titles.
Most of my favorite cooks belong to my parents’ generation. It makes sense---even if you do go to culinary school, learning to cook is a trial-and-error process, and so of course older cooks are going to have more impressive arsenals of tricks. Rachel Mercer, who is around my age, is an exception to this rule. Not only is she a creative, knowledgeable cook, but she has a culinary philosophy that rings true with me. She has an appreciation for and knowledge of fine ingredients, but she’s not a snob. She has an incredible depth of knowledge about the wine industry, but she’s doesn’t necessarily equate good with expensive. When Rachel comes to visit, she always brings interesting food or wine—a batch of freshly made scones, a platter of obscure and wondrous cheeses, ingredients for stir fry, or an excellent cava (make that several bottles—I don’t think Rachel has ever arrived on my door step without several bottles of wine). I’m making it sound as though I just like Rachel because she brings me stuff, but I’m trying to get at something deeper—I see food as a kind of communion. Consuming (and appreciating) truly delicious food and drink with friends and potential friends is my way of celebrating being alive. Rachel, with her culinary adventurism and generosity, makes that happen. When she’s not busy catering, pontificating on wine, teaching wine and cheese classes, baking bread for a local tasting room in Eastern Washington, making cool jewelry, or getting in ongoing arguments about history with her friends (ahem), Rachel works on her nascent business: raising sheep and making artisan cheeses. In the following interview, she shares cooking secrets and talks about her master plans. When did you start cooking and why? I don't remember. When I was a kid--and I mean perhaps as young as four--I'd play restaurant with my parents. If they were gone I'd set up a menu for them, and set the table. It was always a set menu (and probably something along the lines of hot dogs and grilled cheese). I was really young when I started doing that; so I know that my mother let me use the stove at a very young age. I also was a very, very picky eater as a child. As I grew up, I figured out that I'm a super-taster (thanks biology class!), so that might have had something to do with being picky? I could taste things really well...also had a keen sense of smell. Regardless, I was picky (ironic since I'm not picky now) and my mother's attitude was "you don't eat it, fix something yourself". We were not a family of TV dinners or even a microwave for a large part of my early childhood. Therefore, 'fixing' something usually meant that it did need to be cooked. Did someone teach you how to cook? My mom. But I don't recall 'cooking lessons'. I'd watch and duplicate, later. My mom is an amazing cook, it should be noted. We lived in the middle of nowhere, miles from any city, and I grew up eating stir-fry and curries. Which is somewhat typical these days, but this was atypical when I was growing up. Most kids had no idea what a wok was, let alone vindaloo. My parents had been part of the beatnik house boat generation in Seattle and had learned to cook 'exotic food' with their crazy friends. My mother took those skills back to the desert and could whip up amazing dishes. The biggest lesson I learned from her (whether this was taught or just learned by watching) was the ability to really understand flavors. Because of the distance to town, if we were short on an ingredient (or more often the case--no access to the exotic ingredient in the first place) she knew something to substitute. Always. Still does. Who or what has influenced your cooking the most? Hard to say, but I think where I live. I've noticed changes in my cooking styles as well as in my food, depending on where I live. And with each move I've become a better cook, thanks to these influences. I think because I grew up watching a great cook (my mom), I can't help but watch other cooks and seek them out no matter where I live. The two key places being Singapore and Austin. In Singapore I learned A LOT for lots of reasons...but it's a city of really good street food. And all kinds: Chinese, Indian, Malay, Thai. In Austin, I was working and living around brilliant chefs (executive chefs who graduated top of their classes at NY and London Cordon Bleu). We all threw elaborate house parties, and it was always a comforting environment. Austin's a southern foodie town. People are really into food (whether it's barbecue or classically trained French cooking), but it's the south. They're really excited about food, any food, and want to share the food and the knowledge of how to cook the food with everyone and anyone. There's little of that snootiness that I've seen in other food towns. Can you tell me a little about your professional history with foods and beverages? When I moved to Singapore, I ended up getting various jobs, including cooking for a family. They paid me a ridiculous amount of money to cook for them. I wasn't making anything fancy, but they missed 'American' cooking, and I could make food that the kids actually liked to eat (even the vegetables). I liked that job. A lot. It also amazed me that someone would PAY me to cook for them. What a concept. It took me a few years to actively seek out more work in this industry. I ended up working for a winery in Wenatchee, WA. My parents had a winery in the early, active, years of the WA state wine industry. (The industry goes back to the late 1800s here, but it took about a century for a real wine culture to develop.) I knew wine, liked wine, but also knew it to be heart-breaking industry so I had avoided it until that point. Since then I've had various jobs in the food and beverage business. Worked for a few other wineries (everything from winery management to just harvesting grapes and working crush), managed a wine bar in a grocery store (best idea...who doesn't want to shop with a glass of wine?), and now I'm trying to do more with cooking--I'm the summer cook for a local winery while working with a friend catering. What is your favorite dish to cook? I don't think I have 'a dish' but more of a genre. I love cooking soups for people; they're comfort food, tend to be really forgiving (so if you forget something, add too much of something else, want to chat with your guest more...), and a lot of people don't love soup the way my family does. There are a lot of really horrible soups out there, and I usually never order soup when eating out (unless, of course it's pho or Korean or laksa), because I'm more disappointed than not. But that's why I like to make soup. I make really good soup, and I like to surprise people with how good soups are. I often force them on entire groups of unsuspecting patrons. Can you share some favorite strategies or culinary secrets? Boil firm tofu. In fact, boil the hell out of it; then stir-fry it or add it to your soups, etc. What are your favorite tools or pieces of equipment? Cast iron skillet & dutch oven. The non-enamel kind. I don't know how many one-pot dishes I've made in my trusty skillet--and you can take it camping with you or use it as a weapon. When you feel a dish needs a little something extra, what are your go to spices/ingredients? Fish sauce. I put it in everything--it's salty and savory and very useful outside of Asian dishes. But I also love spice--so a dash or 5 of chili sauce/powder is nice. I also find myself stuck on certain specific herbs. Right now? Cardamom and thyme. At one point I'm fairly certain I was addicted to nutmeg (it's great on roasted chicken thighs!). Any culinary pet peeves? Food snobs. Oh, and fucking prime rib. Everyone wants prime rib when you're catering a meal. It's not THAT good and it's freaking expensive....when I could do a barbecue braised brisket, or slow roast a cheaper cut of roast in a thick sauce of wine and onions--that'd taste better as a catered meal (prime rib is often cold by the time it's served to everyone), and save you that cash. If I have to cook one more prime rib and salmon meal... Any words of wisdom on the wine front? Nothing specific....but it's in our (the consumers) favor right now. There's a lot of wine out there; too much wine. I suspect there will be a fairly major shift in the industry in the next four years...The consumer probably won't notice it a whole lot besides more affordable wines. And as a rule, don't listen to wine critics--besides me. Oh, and if you've lost your taste for white wine--start working on developing it again. That'll be the new trend, and I'm excited for good, interesting white wines to take the spotlight. Making white wine is a lot more difficult than making red wine, and it's time that good white wine makers got their moment in the sun. Any interesting wine/food discoveries/obsessions of late? I just went to Taste Washington in Seattle and there were a fair number of hard cider producers there--most of them really good. One cider house made a champagne style cider (with champagne yeast) that I loved-- www.finnriver.com . What are your culinary/business goals? I have more than a few. But the two biggest ones are to complete a vegetarian/carnivore comic adventure story cookbook that I've started with my vegetarian friend, Michele, and to make farmstead cheese (with milk from my sheep). What is your most indispensable ingredient? Salt and pepper. Probably why I love fish sauce so much (it's salty). But I don't know how many times I've thought "this dish needs something extra" and before I start adding in exotic curries or smoked paprika or Tapatio...I just salt and pepper the dish and--bingo. That's it. I think that because we've had this (much needed) foodie revolution in America we forget how to use more traditional spices. Less is more, often. If you could cook dinner for one person living or dead, who would it be? And why? Oh man....I can think of a bunch of dead people I'd love to cook for (Thomas Jefferson being a the front of that list) but...I have a hard time with these kinds of questions. Because, let's face it. It's completely theoretical, yet I can't help but think about it as if it'd really happen. I'm female and a cook...so I get to cook for some famous dead guy. That'd be the end of the story. In ye olden days cooks were not praised for their food--the master of the house was praised for the food. Not that I’d like to be praised, so much as sit down and break bread with him...But that wouldn't happen. So a living person I'd like to cook for? Anthony Bourdain because I may or may not have had a crush on him for the past 12 or so years and I love how he loves food...and drinks. I think we'd have fun drinking together, if not stuffing our faces while we're at it. You can read some of Rachel's recipes here. |
Consumption
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