Previous | Home

May 23, 2008 – Miss Francis

Last month, I had the pleasure of going back to Florida to visit my family. My parents still live there. My brother Rick and his wife Margie with their now adult children and a growing number of grand children all live there. My sister-in-law, Mary, the wife of our deceased brother Paul, lives there with her children and grandchildren. And, wonderfully, my brother Mike and my sisters Pat and Diana all flew down at the same time so we had the time to share together. Such times as those are more valuable than – I don’t even know the metaphor. (I believe I need a poet here, but I don’t have one, so there you go.)

Anyway, I’m not really here to talk about that. I’m here to talk about Miss Francis.

I’ve never been a mother. I’m an aunt. But, as an aunt, I never had to truly deal with the issues of being a mother. One of the key issues that mothers deal with is how your kid is doing in school and, closely connected to that issue is, apparently, periodic parent-teacher conferences. I don’t ever recall my parents being involved with one of these conferences back in my school-hood days and I’m quite sure I was never a participant in one. But, apparently, they happen these days and everybody (parents, teachers and kids), at least these days, may be included.

And happen it did while visiting in Florida . With Miss Francis.

I won’t go into great detail regarding the situation leading up to this particular parent-teacher conference. As far as I know, they might just happen on a regular basis. But, in this case, there were some problems that resulted in this meeting being scheduled. Basically, the child in question – let’s call her “L” – had screwed up a bit. “L” is a very bright child who, now in middle school, is working on that identity issue-thing that is one of those developmental issue-things that one deals with at that age. She enrolled mid-year in this new school. They placed her in a lower-level English class – a level below her ability. Her grandmother, Mary, had protested and got her moved to an advanced English class, so she arrived in that class even later in the year.

That class belongs to Miss Francis.

I arrive in Florida and, per usual, stay over at Mary’s. The first night I’m there, Mary tells me about the situation leading up to this parent-teacher conference and asks if I wanted to attend as well. I say, “Sure.” What the hey – I’ve never been to one of these before. Plus, I care about “L” a great deal.

The second day, I see “L” who tells me a little about the events leading up to this conference from her perspective which, you have to understand, comes from a middle school girl’s perspective. She says, “Oh that Miss Francis! You turn in something and if you have even a corner of the page folded back, it’s not good enough!” A little bit of eye-rolling - but not too bad. And, she also says, “But, I’m doing good now.”

So, the morning of the conference rolls around. We are hustling around the house getting ready. “L” says to me, “You’re going too??? I’m going to be soooo embarrassed.” We all roll into the car together and head off. You can tell that “L” is a little anxious about this whole thing. She’s talking a lot. I mean, non-stop. Mary and I, the two adults in the car, are also a bit grim and anxious as well. I mean, although I don’t ever recall having a parent-teacher conference, I do recall being taken to the principal’s office once for a mutual-pinching-girl-fight in assembly. (I didn’t start it. Really!!!) This felt a little like that. I didn’t know what to expect.

Arriving at the school, we start the purposeful march toward Miss Francis’s classroom. It’s early, before regular school classes start, and I think “Well, at least we are on time!” A few students are milling about but we stay focused on our march to get to our meeting. We arrive a few minutes early and enter the classroom of Miss Francis. She is already there and seems a little bit disconcerted about our early arrival but recovers quickly and offers us seats. We are waiting for Mr. “O” – I was never quite sure who he was. Perhaps the Department head. So we sit there, waiting, all a little uncomfortable.

Let me describe Miss Francis here. Miss Francis is an extremely poised, very attractive African-American woman with intelligent, piercing eyes. Polite, but a little cool, and appropriately so. If you ask me, the most terrifying job in the world is stepping up to the front of a classroom teaching children who have gotten out of that very cute stage and into this “other” developmental stage which, don’t get me wrong, I love but, then, I’m not stepping up in the front of any classroom with them either. I mean, that can be just scary. Big time. And parent-teachers conferences? They’ve got to be tough as well.

Let me also speak a bit about what I’ve heard about public education in Ft. Pierce , Florida . All of which I hear from Mary and my brother Rick’s family living there. Now, I grew up in public education in Ft. Pierce . I didn’t think it was so bad. But, I guess, times change and, what do I know? I don’t live there and I’m not a parent. All you hear nowadays is how awful it is. It’s talked about as a thing to avoid at all costs. All of Rick’s kids went to private schools. Up until “L” returned to Ft. Pierce this year, she and her brother attended private schools. “L” CHOSE to go to public school when she came back this year. Her reason? She says that it is good to learn how to deal with the situations that one faces in public schools. She says it will teach her more about how to deal with life as an adult.

So we are all sitting there. Miss Francis is shuffling through some papers she wants to use during the conference. “L” is sitting there alertly with a very straight back. I’m looking around the classroom to get some idea of, really, what do classrooms look like these days. And I am astonished! It was a celebration of diversity of cultures and races. Everywhere you looked there was something to think about. There were lists of new vocabulary words for the kids to absorb (and some really hard ones!) There was informative stuff about a whole range of different countries. But, best of all, the room was speckled with inspiring statements and quotes that just impressed the heck out of me. I started surreptitiously writing them down so I could tell my brothers and sisters about them.

Here are my notes:

• “Attitudes are contagious. Is yours worth catching?”
• “The three D’s to success: Desire, Discipline, and Dedication.”
• “Whatever you are, be a good one.”
• “Success is impossible if you fail to try.”
• “Your teacher’s goal is simple – to help you reach yours.”
  

And then Mr. “O” got there and the conference began. Miss Francis started. (Did I tell you how poised she is?) (I mean, really, really poised!) She recounts the circumstances of how “L” got into her classroom. She identifies the things that she (Miss Francis) could have done to make it go a little easier. She outlines “L’s” many attributes; how things started out pretty well; and then how problem behaviors began. Then she and Mr. “O” both do this discussion about how “L” is very capable of better things than she is doing but it is really her choice. She could make the effort and stay in this classroom or not. They list the upsides and the downsides of that choice. Then Miss Francis talks about how she has observed “L’s” behavior outside of the classroom and was a little astonished by it. She says that “L” has to get beyond “ghetto” behavior and needs to act more like a “lady.” She says that “L” is capable of doing that but, again, it was her choice. I thought this was really straight-shooting language. I endorsed it. I was astonished. I was amazed.

In fact, at this point, I was sitting there just trying to keep my jaw closed. I was in absolute awe of this woman and her direct and open honesty. I am sitting there feeling honored to be in the presence of this woman. And her positive, yet also neutral (not a cheer-leader) approach. I am sitting there thinking this woman ranks with some of the few, very few, greatest teachers I’ve seen. I am sitting there inspired by her greatness. Well, to be absolutely frank, I’m sitting there imagining that me, Mike, Pat and Diana are in the back of the classroom quietly singing gospel and patriotic music because this whole scene really, really needed a soundtrack. It was that kind of scene.

I did manage to keep my mouth closed through this conference. “L” sat there in rapt attention and acknowledged her failures and reiterated her intention to make up for her failures. We ended on that note and Mary and I headed back to the car while “L” headed to class.

On the way back across the campus, Mary says to me, “Well, what did you think?” I say, “I think Miss Francis is the best thing that ever happened to that girl.” Mary says, “I do too!” as we high-fived it weaving through the schoolyard and passing a teacher admonishing a girl student that the girl’s blouse should be buttoned up “all the way and all day!” I thought that made sense as well.

Later, of course, I tell “L” several times throughout the visit how I thought Miss Francis was wonderful and good for “L.” “L”, of course, rolls her eyes and says, “Whatever.” But, at least at that point in time, she was doing the work she needed to do to succeed in Miss Francis’s class. She seemed highly motivated to do so. I haven’t had the recent update so who knows. I do know this. If I was screwing up in school and someone talked to me like Miss Francis did, I’d WANT to do the VERY BEST I could. I’d WANT to prove myself. I’d WANT her to think well of me. She’s just that kind of person. Thank-you, Miss Francis!

While in Florida , we had some really great food as well. I am including the recipe for a Vietnamese Ginger Noodle Salad – a quite refreshing side dish that could easily become a main dish with the addition of your favorite protein such as cooked chicken, shrimp, beef, or tofu. Plus, I’m including the recipe for the Tomato-Chipotle Shredded Pork that you wrap up in homemade corn tortillas to make handheld soft tacos. You could also use this as a filling for enchiladas..

Eat well. Enjoy the Small Things. And to all of the Miss Francis’s of the world, I salute you.

Ginger Noodle Salad
Adapted from The Best of Vietnamese & Thai Cooking by Mai Pham
Yield: Serves 6-8

• 1 pound dried chow mein-style noodles, cooked until just done, rinsed and drained
• 2 Tbs minced fresh ginger
• 1/3 cup sugar
• 1/3 cup rice wine vinegar
• 1 Tbs dried chili flakes
• 1/3 cup dark sesame oil
• ½ cup dark soy sauce
• 3 cups broccoli florets, blanched, rinsed in cold water and drained
• 1 red pepper, cut into 2 inch long strips
• 3 cups rinsed bean sprouts
• 4 green onions, thinly sliced on the diagonal
• 2 handfuls (or more) of herbs including basil, cilantro, and mint, roughly chopped

Combine the cooked noodles with the soy sauce in a mixing bowl. Refrigerate for at least 2 hours.

To make the dressing, either whisk together or use the food processor the ginger, sugar, rice wine vinegar and chili flakes until creamy. Slowly pour in the sesame oil continuing to whisk or running the food processor briefly until blended.

To serve, gently toss the noodles with the dressing adding a little at a time until evenly coated. Gently fold in the broccoli, red pepper, bean sprouts and onions until combined. Add in the chopped herbs just before serving.

Tomato-Chipotle Shredded Pork
Adapted from Rick Bayless’s Mexican Kitchen by Rick Bayless
Yield: 4 cups of filling

• 1 ½ pounds boneless pork shoulder, trimmed of fat and cut into 2-inch cubes
• 5 garlic cloves, unpeeled
• 1 large white onion, roughly chopped
• 3 dried, stemmed chipotle chilies
• 1 generous pound ripe tomatoes
• 2 ½ Tbs olive, vegetable oil, or rich-tasting lard
• Scant ½ tsp salt
• ½ tsp cinnamon, preferably Mexican
• ¼ tsp black pepper
• 1/8 tsp ground cloves
• ½ cup currants, plumped in water then drained
• 1 cup almonds, toasted in the oven then roughly chopped

In sauce pan, cover meat with heavily salted water. Peel and roughly chop 2 cloves of garlic and add along with ½ of the onion. Bring to a gentle boil, skimming off any grayish foam that rises. Partially cover and simmer over medium-low until thoroughly tender, about 1 ½ hours. If time permits, cook the meat in the broth. Remove from broth, draining excess liquid, and shred it either with your fingers or with two forks. Reserve the broth for soup, sauce, or for steaming rice.

Toast the dried chilies on an ungreased griddle or heavy skillet over medium heat, turning regularly and pressing flat, until very aromatic, about 30 seconds. In a small bowl, cover chilies with hot water.

Roast the remaining 3 cloves of unpeeled garlic on the griddle or skillet, turning occasionally, until soft, about 15 minutes. Cool and peel the garlic. Roast the tomatoes on a rimmed baking sheet that has been covered with aluminum foil below a very hot broiler until blackened on one side Flip and roast the other side. Cool, then peel, collecting all the juices with the tomatoes.

In a food processor or blender, pulse the tomatoes, rehydrated chilies and garlic to a medium-fine puree. Heat 1 Tbs of the oil or lard in a heavy, medium size saucepan over medium-high. Add the puree and stir for about 5 minutes until it sears and thickens. Taste and season with salt.

In a large heavy, well-seasoned or nonstick skillet, heat the remaining 1 ½ Tbs oil or lard over medium-high. When hot, add the shredded meat an remaining half of the onion. Fry, regularly stirring and scraping up browned bits from the bottom until the whole mixture is crispy and golden, 12-14 minutes.

Sprinkle the cinnamon, pepper, cloves and currants over the meat then pour on the tomato-chipotle sauce. Reduce the heat to medium and simmer briskly, stirring occasionally until nearly all of the liquid has evaporated, 4-5 minutes. Stir in the almonds. Taste and season with salt if necessary.

Scoop the filling into freshly made corn tortillas. Add hot sauce if desired.

May 31, 2008 – The Bok-Choy Challenge

“Remember that I’m having the bridge girls over here tomorrow night,” I reminded Steve as we sat down with an evening martini and a crossword puzzle challenge in front of us.

“Oh, right,” he responded, “Hey, can you use up all of that bok-choy out there. It needs to be used.”

By “out there”, he was referring to one of the raised beds in our back yard. And by “all of the” he was referring to an entire three by three foot section of the bed filled with bok-choy. And by “needs to be used”, he meant it was at its prime, about to be over its prime, and that he had other plans for that bed at this point so was there any way I could possibly find a use for it.

Well, I like bok-choy a lot, don’t get me wrong. But I was a little stumped about how to weave in an entire mini-field of bok-choy into our typical bridge night fare. It’s not that we are anything like a watercress-tea-sandwich type of crowd. We are ethnically diverse in our culinary tastes. But, frankly, the usual bridge night menu leans more to finger food. Something one can pick up and munch while pondering a response to your partner’s bid. Bok-choy, as good as it is, just didn’t seem to fit the bill here.

But, there was bok-choy to be used and when you make a commitment to grow as much of your own food as you can, as we have done, that means you also make the commitment to using what you grow when it’s ready and not just when it is convenient for you. So the “Bok-Choy for the Bridge Girls” challenge was on.

I mulled the challenge in the back of my mind while sipping my martini and doing the puzzle. It continued churning back there while watching the Daily Show re-runs and Letterman that evening. I dreamt of bok-choy that night.

Rising the next morning, I announced to Steve, “Rice Bowls!”

“Huh?” he understandably responded.

“Rice Bowls for the Bridge Girls,” I explained and went on to describe a plan for putting out individual small bowls that could be filled with rice and topped with a variety of choices, one of which would be, of course, pan-braised bok-choy with garlic. Other choices included Chinese braised pork, a carrot and Daikon radish matchstick salad, Vietnamese dipping sauce nuoc cham, and piles of herbs including basil, cilantro, and mint. You could make yourself a small bowl of various choices and go back and make yourself another one with different choices. Play bridge in between. Okay, okay, I know. It’s not finger food but it is like foodcart food and that’s the closest I could come up with to match the bridge night theme.

So, that’s what we did and it turned out pretty darned good. I’m including the recipe for the braised pork and the nuoc cham sauce below. (Pronounced nook chahm.) If you cook this version of pork, your home will be filled with fabulous odors of star anise and ginger that will greet your guests at the door inviting them in. And you should definitely add the nuoc cham sauce to your repertoire if you have not made it before. It’s a traditional and very versatile sauce that serves both as a condiment and seasoning. You can make a batch up and keep it in your refrigerator for a couple of weeks. A very common use for it in Vietnam is a cool noodle salad (also called “bun”), which is basically a variation of the rice bowls we served to the bridge girls. It uses Vietnamese vermicelli-style noodles made of rice flour (the white-looking kind) and is composed by creating a layer of cool chopped vegetables and herbs (cucumbers, lettuce, mint, cilantro, or whatever) topped with a pile of room temperature cooked noodles. Drizzle the nuoc cham sauce over this, then top it off with something warm (grilled meat, grilled shrimp, the braised pork we used, or just sautéed vegetables.) You can add some chopped peanuts too. It’s fabulous! A great summer dish!

Eat well. Enjoy the Small Things. And go have yourself some “bun”!

Chinese Braised Pork
Adapted from The Shun Lee Cookbook by Michael Tong

• 4 lbs pork butt (or similar cut such as pork belly) cut into 1-2 inch cubes
• ½ medium onion, sliced
• 1 cup dry sherry
• 1/3 cup sugar
• ½ cup soy sauce
• 1 ½ inches fresh ginger, sliced into 8 pieces (you do not need to peel)
• 1 tsp ground black pepper
• ½ tsp sichuan peppercorns (optional)
• 5 whole star anise
• 8 small dried hot chilies

Fill a pan big enough to hold your meat with water and bring to a boil. Add the pork and cook for 3 minutes to remove some of the fat from the meat. (If using a less fatty piece of pork, you could skip this step.)

Put the meat in a heavy dutch oven or similar pan and all of the rest of the ingredients. Add enough water to cover the meat by about and inch. Bring to a boil then reduce heat and simmer until meat is tender, about 2 hours.

When meat is done, remove the chunks using tongs leaving behind all of the flavoring “chunks” and set aside in a shallow dish (a size that will hold them snugly.) Boil down the remaining liquid with all of the flavoring chunks until somewhat reduced. Strain the liquid. Discard the flavoring chunks. Degrease the liquid. Then pour the liquid over the pork.

Note: the amount of liquid to pour over the meat depends on when you will be serving it and how you will be serving it. If serving over rice, as we did, you’ll want it pretty liquidy. The meat will absorb some of the liquid as it sits anyway. If serving as a separate meat dish, you’ll want less liquid but could serve liquid as a side to pass around.

Nuoc Cham
Adapted from The Best of Vietnamese & Thai Cooking by Mai Pham
Yield: 2 cups

• 5 garlic cloves, minced
• 2 fresh small thai chilies (or whatever fresh chili is available), minced (if using a chili substitution, you may want to adjust quantity depending on the size and heat level of the substituted chili)
• 2 tsp ground asian-style chili paste
• ½ cup granulated sugar
• 1 1/3 cup hot water
• ½ cup fish sauce
• Lime juice from 2 limes along with the pulp (about 4 Tbs) (Scrape as much pulp as you can from the juiced lime halves)
• 4 Tbs shredded carrots (optional)

Using a mortar and pestle, pound the garlic, chilies, and chili paste together until it becomes pasty. (If you do not have a mortar and pestle, make sure your mince is very fine.)

Put sugar in mixing bowl and cover with hot water. Stir to dissolve. Add the garlic-chili mixture along with the rest of the ingredients and stir together.

December 15, 2008 – Trapped

“Ohhh, no! We’re going to lose our electricity! The pipes will freeze!” This is Steve’s typical response to any weather forecast of snow. Me? I’m like, “Oh, boy! I hope it snows!” In this area, just because there is a forecast of snow doesn’t mean that it will actually come through. In fact, the last big snowfall we had took our local forecasters by surprise. Since that one, we’ve had a few forecasts of snow that never came through. So, for someone like me, I don’t get my hopes up too high.

But we got it this time. The snow began yesterday morning and continued through most of the day. I walked up to the grocery store in the morning reveling in the winter wonderland. I saw the beginnings of cars not being able to make it up hills and, soon after, the Oregon Department of Transportation put out the requirement for chains on all highways. The radio announcers were saying, “If you don’t need to go somewhere, stay at home.” I liked my sister Pat’s standard of, “Well, I don’t have appendicitis so I’m not going anywhere.” Clearly, we were going to hunker down.

Whereas, I don’t share Steve’s visions of doom and gloom, I don’t ignore him either. So, I decided to bake up a big dish of eggplant parmesan early in the day just in case we did, in fact, lose our electricity. I’ve included that recipe below. We were using our frozen roasted tomatoes from last summer’s crops but you can substitute canned.

We were also using frozen basil leaves leftover from our garden – something we just tried this year and is possibly a worthwhile technique for those of you who grow your own basil. We usually just make pesto with the end of the year crop and freeze packets of it. But, we frequently have more pesto than we use. So this year, we washed a bunch of basil leaves; dried them really, really well; and stuck them in the freezer in a plastic bag. They get all crackly dry and I just pull out some, crumble them up, and add them to whatever - soups, stews, sauces, and, in this case, eggplant parmesan. Has seemed to work out pretty well.

This morning when I got up, Steve says to me, “Well, it was 42 degrees in the house this morning so I thought I would turn on the heat.” That seemed reasonable to me. I brewed my coffee and settled in to watch NEWS CHANNEL 8 - ARCTIC BLIZZARD! I love those guys (or, at least for 20 minutes or so.) All those bundled-up reporters; standing at highway junctions; having trouble speaking because their lips are so cold; saying things like, “Look at that bush! See how the wind is blowing!” and “Look! There is somebody going by with chains on!” They do tend to speak with exclamation points. When they can actually capture some car skidding on film, it’s a big fest!

But it is darn cold today. It was 18 degrees out there this morning with the wind chill at 5 degrees. (I now know what “wind chill factor” means because our weather guy graciously explained it to all of us on TV this morning.) (That was just a wee bit sarcastic.) On our street, there is usually a parade of people walking their dogs or just out exercising. Nada, today. We are trapped - unless, of course, we have appendicitis.

Here's a link to a Word document that's a holiday cookie cookbook that I put together for my friend Joanne this year. She is an inveterate cookie baker at Christmas time. She also enjoys comparing different recipes of the same type of thing so I’ve provided her with some duplicate recipes in her ongoing quest for the perfect “something.” If you are a baker, you might enjoy this.

Eat well. Enjoy the Small Things. And be prepared for the electricity going out!

Eggplant Parmesan
Adapted from How to Cook Everything by Mark Bittman
Yield: 9 by 13 inch baking dish

• 2 medium to large eggplants (2-3 lbs total)
• Salt
• ½ cup olive oil plus a little more for sautéing
• 6-8 cloves of garlic, minced
• 1 medium to large onion, chopped
• A little bit of red or white wine or water
• Canned or home-roasted tomatoes (you want to end up with about 3 cups of sauce so
• I suspect about 28 ounces canned tomatoes)
• ½ half pound grated mozzarella cheese, about 2 cups
• 1 cup grated Parmesan cheese
• Basil leaves (Bittman calls for 30 fresh ones. I probably used about 15 crumbled frozen leaves)

Slice eggplants into ½ inch slices. Lay out on towels or paper towels. Salt both sides with coarse salt and let sit for 30-60 minutes. (I have a pile of old, raggedy looking towels that I call my kitchen towels that I use for things like this or for drying large quantities of veggies that I’m prepping for cooking. Very handy.)

Add about ½ of the minced garlic to ½ cup olive oil in a liquid measuring cup and set aside to let it infuse.

Heat just a bit of olive oil into a large saucepan at medium-low heat and throw the onions in when hot. Stir, then toss in a bit of wine or water. Cook, stirring occasionally and adding more liquid as necessary until onions are soft. Add the remaining garlic. Cook stirring until raw garlic smell is gone then throw in the tomatoes. Cook at medium heat, stirring occasionally, until thickened. Set aside.

Rinse the eggplant slices under running water and press them dry using two layers (top and bottom) of fresh towels or paper towels.

Turn the broiler on with rack placed at highest level. Lightly oil a big sheet pan (one with lips) with olive oil. Spread the eggplant on the pan and, using a brush, lightly oil both sides of each slice with the garlic infused olive oil leaving the garlic remaining in the bottom of the cup. Broil the eggplant until lightly browned, turning the sheet around midway. Flip the slices and broil the other side until equally done. Remove from oven. Place rack to the middle and set oven at 350 degrees.

Meanwhile, while eggplant is cooking, add the remaining garlic and oil to the tomato sauce along with another dollop of wine and cook at medium-low heat until absorbed and somewhat thickened again.

Lightly oil 9 by 13 inch baking pan (spray oil here is fine.) Ladle a bit of the tomato sauce into the pan and spread around. Begin with a layer of eggplant (about half); about half of remaining tomato sauce; about half of the mozzarella; about half of the parmesan; then all of the basil. Finish with remaining eggplant, then tomato sauce, then mozzarella, then parmesan.

Bake 20-30 minutes until bubbling. You can eat it then or wait until the electricity goes out.

December 17, 2008 – Chicken Noodle Soup

My niece, Kellie, is ill. The flu, I suppose. She sounds like a frog. She is a mere fraction of her usual self. She is miserable. Poor thing!

“I wish I could bring you some chicken noodle soup,” I say to her yesterday on the phone. “Meee tooo!” she moaned, “That is EXACTLY what I want right now.” Her husband had offered to warm up a can of chicken soup for her but she retorted, “That is just NOT the same thing.” I imagine this retort was accompanied with a disdainful look but I wasn’t there to see it because, yes, we are still semi-trapped by weather here in Portland . Which is why I couldn’t deliver soup to her even though I would have liked to.

As it happened, I was planning on making chicken noodle soup that night anyway and it is perfect weather for all kind of soups. But the prime reason for my wanting to make chicken noodle soup specifically was to try out a variation of an “updated” version of it that was in the recent Cook’s Illustrated magazine. “What needs to be updated about chicken noodle soup?” you might ask. A reasonable question. It is, after all, fairly straight-forward. Well, the guy who wrote this article was trying to achieve the type of stock that you get typically from hours of cooking chicken pieces and carcasses with stock-type vegetables, skimming and stirring, then carefully straining the stock. He wanted to get that same taste in a faster more convenient way.

The technique he finally arrived at was basically doctoring up store-bought chicken broth with the usual stock-type vegetables but adding the secret ingredient of ground chicken. He found that increasing the surface area of the meat extracts more flavor out of it more quickly. By doing this, he achieved a much tastier broth with more depth by essentially making broth out of broth. I already knew that part but I hadn’t thought about the surface area concept.

So Steve and I bundled up and, with backpacks donned, slowly and carefully trudged up to a nearby grocery store. (We didn’t have any Sherpas with us but we did look like we could be climbing Mt. Everest .) That’s where I found out that ground chicken is not necessarily readily available although you can get ground turkey. However, that ground turkey, at this store anyway, was going for about four bucks a pound. I just wasn’t going to do that! I mean, I look for those 59 cents a pound whole chickens and 69 cents a pound turkeys to make our home stock. I save all of my chicken and turkey bones, carcasses, and spare body parts (poultry parts, that is) in the freezer to throw in when making stock. Four bucks a pound? What’s that all about!

So, back at home, I resort to Plan B. I pulled out the big bag of Costco brand boneless, skinless chicken thighs that we stock in our freezer for quick meals and, while still partially frozen, finely chopped some of them up as a substitution. I also used home-made stock instead of purchased broth but, nevertheless, I ended up agreeing with him about that whole surface area thing. This soup was really good and the broth was much better than the stock we started out with. You could easily use purchased broth and still follow the recipe I’ve listed below. And if you prefer chicken breasts, use them instead. Also, the cabbage is optional or can be substituted with swiss chard or spinach.

I also added my own two current soup “secret ingredients” at the end to create more depth and complexity. The first we learned from the owners of our local Caprial’s Bistro and that is Tom Yum paste. You can get this at Asian stores. You don’t need much of this, so add just a little dab at a time then taste before adding more. The second secret learned from Lynne Rossetto Kasper of The Splendid Table radio show and that is Vietnamese Fish Sauce. Again, add sparingly and taste before adding more. (A third “secret ingredient” for soups is a bit of good-tasting vinegar at the end. I didn’t use it for this soup but you should think about trying it in other soups and stews.)

But back to the phone call with Kellie. You gotta love this! She ends that call saying to me, “Hey I saved a chicken carcass for you. Do you want it?” Now THAT’s what I call a fine niece! Of course I wanted it!

Eat well. Enjoy the Small Things. And send your carcasses my way (poultry, that is.)

Chicken Noodle Soup
Adapted from Cook’s Illustrated, January-February, 2009
Yield: 4-6 servings

Stock

• 1 Tbs vegetable oil
• 1 pound minced boneless skinless chicken thighs or breasts (or ground chicken)
• 1 cup chopped onion
• ½ cup peeled, chopped carrot
• ½ cup chopped celery
• 1 quart water
• 2 quarts low sodium chicken or turkey broth
• 2 bay leaves
• 2 tsp salt
• 5-6 thawed boneless, skinless chicken thighs or breasts (or substitute about 24 ounces of bone-in chicken breasts, skin removed

Soup

• 2 Tbs cornstarch
• ¼ cup cold water
• 1 cup onion, that has halved vertically, cut in half horizontally, then thinly sliced vertically
• A generous cup of peeled carrots that have been halved lengthwise and cut crosswise in 3/4inch pieces
• A generous ½ cup of celery rib, halved lengthwise and cut crosswise into ½ inch pieces
• About 8 ounces Yukon Gold potato, peeled and cut into ¾ inch cubes
• 4 ounces Italian pasta or egg noodles
• About ½ Savoy cabbage (about 2 cups), halved lengthwise, core removed, sliced vertically into 1 inch slices, the cut horizontally into 2 inch pieces
• Tom Yum paste and Vietnamese fish sauce to taste
• Salt and pepper to taste

Heat oil in large Dutch oven on medium low heat. Throw in minced chicken, onion, carrot and celery. Cook stirring frequently until chicken is no longer pink but is also not browned

Add water, broth, bay leaves, salt, and chicken thighs. Cover and bring to a slow simmer or soft boil. Check the whole chicken pieces periodically because you want to pull them out as soon as they are done. You don’t want to cook them to pieces. When they are done, set them aside to cool. (May want to refrigerate when somewhat cool.) Shred or chunk up these chicken pieces when cool to add to the final soup. The original broth will simmer for a total of about 30 minutes covered. Then remove cover and, adjusting heat as necessary, continue to cook at a slow boil for another 20 minutes.

Strain stock into a bowl using a fine meshed strainer or colander with smallish holes. Press solids with a wooden spoon to extract all of the juices. Allow liquid to settle. If you used chicken pieces with skins on, you may want to skim off a bit of fat after settling about 5 minutes. Using skinless chicken pieces, you probably don’t need to do this. You do want a bit of fat left on the surface for a flavor enhancer.

Return stock to the Dutch oven and set over medium heat. Make a slurry of the cornstarch and water and stir into stock. Bring to a gentle boil. Add onions, carrots, celery, potatoes and Italian dried pasta. (If you are using regular egg noodles, you may want to hold off adding them for a little bit because they will cook faster than the dried Italian kind.) When potatoes are almost done, maybe 10 minutes, add the sliced cabbage. Continued cooking until everything is done then add the Tom Yum and fish sauce to taste. Finally, salt and pepper to taste if needed.

April 26, 2009 – Brats and Baseball

“You’re right,” I say to Steve, “They’re just not as good as the old ones.”

This comment specifically referred to the two bratwursts we were chowing down on at the moment and, more generally, to the bratwurst brand that PGE Park has switched to in this brand new, wonderful season of baseball. I’m talking Portland Triple A Beavers baseball. Small, open air stadium. Daytime games. “Lucky”, the acrobatic mascot. A cadre of devoted fans. Pretty good IPA beer. School days with screaming kids. Stupid contests between innings all in the name of fun. Bravely sung national anthems. Bad squawking intercom system. And young players with high hopes, the glint of the future in their eyes, and a prideful strut in their stride. The only things missing are real grass and, now, this year, sorrowfully, good bratwurst.

We are Beavers fans. Our goal is to make every daytime game they play. The old guy at the entrance gate recognizes us and chats. The woman who monitors the section we go to is on a first name basis. The beer section ladies greet us warmly and know what we drink. And, I could walk up to the grill section and they would ask, “You want two brats, extra crispy, with toasted buns, Deb?” And, I’d say yep. And they would proceed to cook it. And, when they thought it was done, they’d show it to me and ask, “Is this okay?” And I’d say either “sure” or “maybe a little bit more” depending.

But, alas, no more bratwurst. After two tries this year, we have definitely concluded that the problem is too little fat content. Yes, I said fat content. I mean, if you are going to eat a brat, which we don’t much do except at baseball, I want a crispy crunch and a squirt of flavorful juice. Don’t give me dry stuff. I want it charred, cooked until it splits, still juicy, and lying proudly on a toasted bun that is at least some caliber above your usual hotdog bun. (And, in the best of worlds, I want mayonnaise available in the condiment section as well as mustard. And,well, in the very best of worlds, I want sliced tomatoes there as well to pile on the top.)

So, I’m now resigned to grilled franks at PGE Park , which are pretty good but not like the old bratwursts. (I can get pretty obsessed about baseball franks as well. Much to Steve’s amazement, I’ve been known to take one bite out of a hotdog at a stadium, not PGE, and hand it over to him to finish. Don’t give me any of those wimpy steamed franks on a flaccid ho-hum bun. No time for them.)

Fat, in moderation, is a very, very fine thing. While olive oil is our general “fat du jour”, I also keep duck fat that I have rendered in our freezer. There is also rendered lard from a Hispanic market I frequent. I’ve also started storing bacon fat separate from the other fat we discard. All of these, occasionally used, can make a dish transcendent.

The bridge girls were over the other night and along with the Kale, Potato, & Sausage soup, we had cornbread studded with chunks of bacon cooked in a scant layer of bacon fat in a cast iron frying pan. (This is when I started saving my bacon fat. Not that we have much bacon anyway so all the more reason to save the fat.) Anyway, I thought you would enjoy this bread.

So eat your fruit and veggies. Try using meat as a supplement rather than the main course at every meal. But do save room for the fat – of course, in moderation.

Cornbread with Bacon
Adapted from Mark Bittman’s, How to Cook Everything
Yield: about 6 servings

• 1 ¼ cup half and half or milk or combination
• 1 Tbs white vinegar
• 6-7 ounces thick sliced bacon
• 7 ounces medium grind cornmeal
• ½ cup all-purpose flour
• 1 ½ tsp baking powder
• 1 tsp salt
• 1 Tbs sugar
• 1 egg

Preheat the oven to 375 degrees.

Heat the milk for one minute in a microwave then add the vinegar to it. Set it aside. (You an use buttermilk or yogurt as a substitute for this “soured milk.”)

Fry the bacon in a medium-sized cast iron skillet (or other type of oven-proof skillet) until it is brown and crisp. Remove with a slotted spoon and drain on paper towels. Drain the bacon fat from the pan into a container and measure out 2 Tbs of bacon fat and return to the pan. Set aside. When the bacon is cool enough to handle, cut up into approximate ¼ inch size chunks.

Using a whisk, combine the cornmeal, flour, baking powder, salt and sugar in a bowl. Whisk the egg in a separate bowl and add to the milk and vinegar. Gently fold in this liquid along with the crumbled bacon bits into the dry ingredients using a rubber spatula and stopping as soon as no more dry bits appear. Don’t worry about lumps. If you need to, add one or two more tablespoons of milk.

In the meantime, warm up the bacon fat until quite warm. Turn off the stove top heat. Pour the batter into the warmed fat smoothing out the top. Put into the oven and cook for 30 minutes until browned, the sides have pulled away from the pan, and a toothpick inserted into the center comes out clean.

Previous | Home

© 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008 Deborah Young