Stuffed Peppers for Light Summer Dining

 

As a kid, I first encountered green bell peppers stuffed with ground beef and rice and topped with sweet-sour tomato sauce at my German-Polish neighbors’ house. I subsequently experienced various types of stuffed peppers, from Mexican Chiles Rellenos to lamb-stuffed Turkish Biber Dolmasi in tomato sauce to Chinese minced-fish stuffed pepper quarters in brown bean sauce.

 

Peppers are a popular summer vegetable, now available year-round. But botanically they are actually “fruits,” members of the Nightshade family. They are technically “berries” because of their fleshy exteriors, contain seeds, and each fruit developed from a single flower. So are many other “vegetables,” including tomatoes, eggplants, cucumbers, pumpkins, squash, okra, and even snow peas and green beans.

 

Chili peppers, cultivated at least 6000 years in Central and South America, were once uniformly hot and spicy due to their capsaisin content. Over time, increasingly mild and fleshy pepper varieties were selected by farming people for cooking, while the hot peppers remained valuable for seasoning. Our familiar sweet “bell” peppers are a relatively recent development, a hundred years or a little more. Sweet peppers are generally the type used for stuffing.

 

For stuffing, peppers can be halved lengthwise, their seeds and membranes removed, then stuffed. Alternatively, they can be kept whole, their tops sliced off, seeds and membranes removed, and stuffed. Then with their tops replaced, the peppers are simmered or baked. Either way they are usually cooked in then served with a sauce. I now make a lighter sauce than I used to.

 

The recipe serves 3-4. Stuffed peppers be eaten fresh from the oven or baked ahead and reheated in the microwave for serving.

 

2 large bell peppers, red and/or green

Salt for sprinkling

 

Filling:

1 pound ground beef, pork or lamb

1 cup cooked unsalted rice (or if salted, reduce salt in filling by 1/8 teaspoon)

1/2 small onion, very finely chopped

1 medium clove garlic, minced or put through a garlic press

1 egg

3 tablespoons white wine or water

1 tablespoon olive oil

Juice of 1/2 lemon (the other half for the sauce, below)

1 1/2 teaspoons salt

1 teaspoon paprika

1/2 teaspoon dry oregano

1/2 teaspoon ground black pepper

1/2 teaspoon ground coriander

1/2 teaspoon ground allspice

1/8 teaspoon cayenne

 

Toppings:

1 Roma tomato sliced crosswise into 4 slices, or 8 grape tomatoes halved lengthwise

Minced parsley for topping, optional

Olive oil for drizzling

 

Sauce:

3 tablespoons ketchup or tomato paste

Juice of 1/2 lemon

1 teaspoon sugar

1/2 teaspoon salt

1 cup water, plus more as needed

 

Cut peppers in half lengthwise through the stem. Cut across upper part of core, inside the pepper, leaving a thin wall of the stem and upper core. Remove seeds and membranes. Place pepper halves cut side down on a plate. Wet with several tablespoons of water, and microwave until fully tender and collapsing a little (try 6 minutes, touch for tenderness, then another 4 minutes, then 1 minute at a time, until done). Alternately, in large baking dish with 1/2 inch water, bake, cut side down, at 375 degrees for 25 minutes, or until fully softened. Cool. Sprinkle the insides of the peppers lightly with salt.

 

In a bowl, thoroughly mix ground meat and remaining filling ingredients. Pack filling carefully into the prepared pepper halves and place them, filling side up, in a baking dish large enough to just hold them. Smooth the rounded filling surfaces. Place a slice of tomato or four grape tomato halves, cut side up, on each pepper filling and press tomato in lightly. Sprinkle a little parsley, if used, on tomato. Drizzle lightly with olive oil.

 

Mix sauce ingredients and pour it around the stuffed peppers. Add more water, if needed, to come up a quarter of the height of the peppers.

 

Bake at 375 degrees until filling is firm, about 35-40 minutes.

 

Serve hot, with the sauce to spoon over them. Or cool and refrigerate them and microwave to reheat for serving.

 

¡Tapas!

 

Tapas nowadays are highly varied, savory small dishes to nibble with alcoholic beverages, particularly wine. Spanish in origin, they remain most common in that country. But they’re also found here and in Latin America.

 

Tapas in Spain date from as early as the 13th century, and started as a slice of bread or dry ham the bartender placed on your filled wineglass, maybe to keep the fruit flies out. “Tapa” simply means “lid.” But bars or restaurants offering huge selections of small accompaniments for wine date only from the 20th century.

 

Almost invariably, tapas in Spain include small plates of Marcona almonds, olives, thin-sliced dry ham, and sliced wedges of tangy cheese such as Manchego. More elaborate classics are garlic prawns (“Gambas al Ajillo”), spice-roasted potatoes (“Patatas Bravas”),“Tortilla Española” (Spanish potato fritata) and little meatballs (“Albóndigas”). Tiny skewered pork tenderloin kebabs seasoned with smoked paprika, lemon juice and olive oil (“Pinchos Marunos”) come from the Basque region, duck braised with cherries from the south. Sardine and anchovy dishes appear along the Mediterranean coast. Beyond the standards it’s the chef’s imagination plus regional and seasonal ingredients that determine the dishes. In recent decades fashionable centers like Madrid and Barcelona have produced wildly creative tapas.

 

Here are two versions of an elegant, but easy, modern tapa containing dark chocolate and, optionally, chorizo sausage. This, along with a selection of olives, roasted almonds, sliced cheese (like Manchego), and maybe sliced dry ham like Serano (or Prosciutto), plus your choice of wine (I’d choose a red like Rioja or other Tempranillo) will make a delightful tapas gathering. It can be a light evening meal in itself, or the substantial starter course for a memorable dinner.

 

“Tostada de Chocolate y Chorizo” is simply dark chocolate melted onto a slice of Melba toast along with fried crumbled chorizo sausage. I use readily available chorizo from Mexican markets rather than try to find Spanish chorizo. The meatless version of the dish is just “Tostada de Chocolate,” chocolate melted onto Melba toast and drizzled with extra virgin olive oil and dusted with sea salt. Dark, slightly sweetened chocolate, up to as high as 70% cocoa, is about right to my taste.

 

The recipe is a method rather than precise measurements. The quantities depend on the number nibbling -- from a stealthy, self-indulgent party of two to an entire crowd.

 

Baguette (skinny type preferred) sliced 1/4-inch thick, 2-3 slices per person

Bar of Ghirardelli, Lindt or other fancy dark chocolate, up to 70%  cocoa

Optional: up to 1/2 pound cooked chorizo sausage (casing removed and the meat fried and crumbled, use any leftover on a taco!)

Extra virgin olive oil (if not using chorizo)

Sea salt (if not using chorizo)

 

Heat toaster oven or regular oven to 300 degrees. Lay out bread slices on the rack or a baking sheet and toast them in oven to pale golden. Let cool.

 

Lay out toasted bread slices on cookie sheet. Place an approximately 1-inch square of chocolate on each slice. If using chorizo sausage, put a small spoonful of cooked chorizo on the chocolate. Put into oven and let it heat just until the chocolate melts.

 

Remove from oven. Press chocolate (and chorizo, if used) lightly with a spoon out toward the edges of the toast. If not using chorizo, drizzle chocolate lightly with olive oil and sprinkle lightly with sea salt.

 

Platter and serve warm.

 

¡Buen Provecho!

 

 

Emergency Steaks: From a Time of High Beef Prices

 

 

With beef prices seriously rising, I recently retried a recipe I used to make for my family when I was an early teenager. “Emergency Steak” was developed during World War II by the Betty Crocker team at the General Mills Corporation as a way of stretching the rationed, limited food available during wartime. The Betty Crocker Cookbook was published a few years after the war, and was my first personally owned cookbook. It contained the wartime recipe, which must have been where I learned it. It became one of “my” dishes served often to the family.

 

It turns out I had combined elements of two historic ground-meat dishes, Emergency Steaks and Salisbury Steaks. My recipe, which I still call “Emergency Steaks,” reflects that hybrid style. I made the steaks round rather than in the single T-bone steak shape of the original recipe. I wrote up the fuller story for an article in Boom Magazine, where I have a regular food column (see Boomathens.com, and scroll down to the “Readers Write” section to find my food articles.

 

Here is my recipe for Emergency Steaks as I’ve reconstructed and updated it from recall. As during my childhood, the “steaks” go well with mashed potatoes (seasoned grits work, too) and a green vegetable. Salad completes a nice, fairly nostalgic, supper meal. Nowadays, I’d have a glass of red wine with it.

 

1 cup Wheaties cereal

1/4 cup yogurt plus 1/4 cup milk

Half of a pack (4 1/2 teaspoons) Lipton’s Instant Onion Soup mix

1/2 teaspoon salt

1/4 teaspoon black pepper

1 pound ground beef chuck (85% lean)

 

Place Wheaties in mixing bowl. Lightly crush them (for example with the bottom of the measuring cup). Add remaining ingredients and mix well with your fingers.

 

Apply bakers’ spray or oil to a flat pan with edges. Shape meat mixture into 4 round patties (or one t-bone steak shape for historic interest). Make the meat evenly 3/4-inch thick.

 

Heat broiler.

 

Swedish Apple Pie

 

 

Here’s a great apple dessert that’s shamelessly easy to make. “Swedish Apple Pie” has it all, including a misleading name. It is Swedish (called smulpaj, meaning “crumb pie”) and contains apples. But it’s more of a crustless torte than a traditional “pie.” I adapted this recipe from that of my non-Swedish sister-in-law Carol. Simple, inexpensive, and with everything basically thrown into the baking dish, it’s unbeatable. When served, it should be topped with either whipped cream or vanilla ice cream. The most elegant is heavy cream whipped with a little powdered sugar then a little rum or Bourbon folded in at the end.

5 cooking apples (like Gala or Granny Smith), peeled, cored, in 1/2-inch slices
1 tablespoon sugar for apples
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon grated lemon zest

2 tablespoons lemon juice
1 egg, lightly beaten

1/3 cup butter, unsalted preferred
1/4 cup oil (not olive)
1 cup flour
1 cup sugar for batter
1/2 teaspoon salt

1/4 cup walnuts or pecans, chopped

Whipped cream or vanilla ice cream for serving, optional

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Butter an attractive 10-inch shallow casserole.


Place sliced apples in a bowl. Mix the tablespoon of sugar with cinnamon and lemon zest. Sprinkle evenly over apples. Sprinkle on the lemon juice. Toss to mix and spread out the apple slices in the baking dish. Then use the bowl to beat the egg.

In a different bowl, glass or ceramic, melt butter in microwave, about 1 minute. Add oil, flour, sugar, egg, salt, and nuts. Stir until combined. Spoon batter over apples and spread evenly.

Bake 45 to 55 minutes, or until golden brown. Serve warm. When serving, top, if desired, with whipped cream or vanilla ice cream.

 

Ragú Bianco, Italian “White” Meat Sauce for Pasta

 

I used to think Italian meat sauce for pasta was just what gets called “Bolognese,” more correctly “Ragú alla Bolognese,” after the northern Italian city of Bologna. It’s hearty and red and can be quite satisfying. (A recipe for that dish has long been in this blog.) But when I was in northern Italy several years ago, Cortona, in Tuscany, more specifically, I learned of another hearty meat sauce made with cream or milk rather than tomatoes. It is also called “ragú” (the Italian spelling of the French word for stew, ragoût), but is Ragú Bianco, or white ragú.

Ragú Bianco traditionally contains light-colored ground meat, particularly veal or pork. Here, good veal is hard to find and has ethical complexities plus expense. Pork is my favorite. But ground turkey or chicken can be used instead. The sauce often has a little cured pork cooked into it, like pancetta, bacon or even sausage.

 

A spice that is common, though used sparingly, in both the better-known red Bolognese meat sauce (Ragú Rosso) and white ragú is fennel. It gives a subtle, warm, faintly licorice-like essence. Both red and white ragú typically have wine cooked into them.

 

In Italy, the pasta for this ragú is generally an egg-containing flat pasta like taliatelle or fettucine or, wider yet, pappardelle. But, here, an easy-to-get short pasta that the sauce will cling to, like rigatoni or penne rigate, can also work.

 

With pasta in general I like the hearty sheep’s milk cheese, Pecorino Romano, no doubt due to my culinary exposure to Southern Italians when I was growing up. However, for northern Italian dishes, like ragú, the lighter and more elegant cow’s milk cheese Parmesan (Parmigiano-Reggiano) is preferred.

 

The recipe makes enough sauce for a pound of pasta, to serve six or more. But leftovers make a great snack.

1 medium-small carrot, finely diced
1 medium stick celery, finely diced
2 shallots or 1 small onion, finely diced
1 strip of bacon or 2 thin slices of pancetta, finely diced
4 tablespoons olive oil (5 if not using bacon or pancetta)

1 pound ground pork, turkey or chicken

1/4 teaspoon crushed red pepper or cayenne
1/8 teaspoon nutmeg

1/8 teaspoon black pepper

1/8 teaspoon whole fennel seeds or ground fennel

1/8 teaspoon dry thyme
1/2 cup white wine
1/2 cup chicken broth, unsalted preferred
1/2 teaspoon salt, plus more to taste

3/4 cup sour cream or heavy cream

1/4 cup milk

1 pound pasta (such as rigatoni or penne rigate)
1/3 cup grated Parmesan cheese for topping

In a heavy pan, gently fry the diced vegetables and bacon or pancetta in the olive oil, stirring occasionally, until carrot is tender but not browning. 

 

Raise heat and stir in ground meat, breaking it up as it heats. Add herbs and spices, but not the salt When the raw meat color has fully changed, add wine and simmer several minutes. Then add chicken broth and salt and simmer 10 minutes, covered. Add sour cream or cream plus the milk. Simmer 10 more minutes, stirring occasionally.

 

Taste and add salt if needed (this will depend on whether the bacon and/or the chicken broth were salty). Keep (or reheat) the sauce hot when cooking the pasta.

When sauce is done, cook pasta in a large amount of boiling lightly salted water, stirring frequently at the beginning, so pasta does not stick together. When just tender to the bite, drain pasta well in a colander, but do not rinse.

 

In large serving bowl, toss most of the heated sauce with the freshly cooked, drained pasta. Top with remaining sauce. Sprinkle generously with grated cheese.

 

 

Texas Enchiladas -- Pat’s Easy Specialty

 

I learned this Texas-Anglo enchilada dish during my Atlanta days from a friend who had grown up in Dallas. Pat, a professional woman and avid soccer player, professed to dislike cooking. She certainly disliked being fussy or spending unnecessary time in the kitchen. But her “go-to” guest dish, a Mexican-influenced, family favorite from her childhood, made Pat seem quite the chef.

 

Enchiladas, traditional in Mexico and the American Southwest, and a mainstay at Mexican-American restaurants, are basically tortillas wrapped around a filling and baked covered with a chile-containing sauce and cheese. Mexican enchiladas are typically made with corn tortillas. Pat’s use flour ones. And enchiladas would generally be baked covered with cheese plus a red or green chile sauce. Pat’s are covered with a dairy and cream soup mixture. In Mexico, white enchiladas, though infrequent, are made, though with corn tortillas. They are sometimes called  “Suizas” (meaning “Swiss-style”), indicating milk and cheese rather than red or green salsa.

 

Pat’s time-saving ingredients include prepared foods: canned soup, canned green chilies, packaged shredded cheese. And if it were available back then, she probably would have used a rotisserie chicken. The mildly spicy chicken enchiladas below are based on Pat’s recipe, but I modified it somewhat.

 

Beer would be the drink for a dish like this in either Texas or Mexico, a lager type of beer, not a hoppy IPA. But a Chardonnay will work too.

 

The recipe serves a crowd, at least six people, generously. Leftovers are nice. A colorful vegetable, some avocado, and maybe a simple lettuce and tomato salad would be attractive accompaniments.

 

1 rotisserie chicken

1-1/2 teaspoons salt for chicken

3/4 teaspoon black pepper

2 (4-ounce) cans jalapeño peppers, diced or sliced

8 (8-9-inch – fajita size) flour tortillas

1 (10-1/2-ounce) can Campbell’s condensed cream of chicken soup (if unsalted, add extra 1/2 teaspoon salt)

1 soup-can’s volumn of water

1 soup-can’s volumn of milk

1/2 teaspoon salt for the sauce

12 ounces shredded Mexican-style cheese or mixed mozzarella and cheddar cheese

Sour cream for serving

 

Cut meat off chicken. (Reserve skin and bones for broth for other uses.) Pull meat apart into long pieces. Sprinkle chicken evenly with the salt and pepper. Toss to mix.

 

Drain jalapeños. If slices, chop them coarsley.

 

Lightly oil a 9 by 13-inch casserole dish or pan. Set oven for 375 degrees.

 

Lay tortillas out on flat surface. Place chicken down the middle of each. Sprinkle evenly with canned chilies. Sprinkle with half the cheese. Roll up tortillas and arrange in a single layer in the pan, seam side down.

 

In bowl, whisk together condensed soup, water and milk, plus 1/2 teaspoon salt. Spoon mixture evenly over the enchiladas. Sprinkle with the remaining cheese. (If desired, the casserole can be refrigerated at this point and baked closer to dinner time.)

 

Bake until thoroughly heated, bubbling and beginning to turn golden on top, 35-45  minutes.

 

Serve, accompanied with sour cream.

 

 

Chicken Alfredo Pasta

 

One of my grandkids’ favorite meals is “Chicken Alfredo,” a pasta dish that has evolved far from its origins. As a style, “alfredo” is an elastic, and much-abused, term in Italian-American cooking. And I am as happily guilty as anyone, making Pasta Alfredo with highlights as varied as lemon zest, sun-dried tomatoes, peas, asparagus or even smoked salmon.

 

The original dish, a combination of fresh egg pasta, butter and cheese, dates to 1914, when ALFREDO di Lelio served what he called “Fettuccine ALFREDO” at his restaurant in Rome, “ALFREDO alla Scrofa.” Obviously he liked his name.

 

Cream, not part of the original, is now typical in the dish. Many chefs cook heavy cream down to make the sauce even richer. I use part half-and-half for a lighter version.

 

The recipe serves six. With both chicken and cream, the classic pairing wine would be a chardonnay.

2 cups 1/4-inch-cubed roasted chicken (can use freshly herb-roasted chicken breast)
1 large clove garlic, minced
2 tablespoons butter
1/2 cup white wine

1 cup (1/2 pint) half-and-half cream

1/2 cup heavy cream
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/8 teaspoon black pepper
1/8 teaspoon grated nutmeg                                                                                    

3/4 pound fettucini, or a short pasta like penne rigate
6 tablespoons grated Romano or Parmesan cheese, plus more for serving                                                                                                                                                                                          

Boil four quarts of water in large pot. Add 1 teaspoon of salt. Keep hot. Prepare meat and other ingredients before cooking pasta. Have a large serving bowl ready for mixing the past and sauce as well as serving it.

 

In medium-sized pan over gentle heat, fry garlic in butter until softened but not browned. Add wine, half-and-half, cream, salt, pepper, and nutmeg. Bring to simmer (not a boil), and simmer 4 minutes. Add chicken and heat just until it’s are hot. Remove from stove. Taste and add salt, if needed.

 

Meanwhile raise heat under pasta water. When it boils rapidly, add pasta and stir well for half a minute so it does not stick together. Boil, stirring occasionally, until pasta is just tender when you bite a piece. Drain in colander but do not shake out water. Transfer to large serving bowl.

 

Add sauce and cheese and toss everything together with two spoons. Taste, and add salt if necessary.

 

Chickpea Salad for Maria – Insalata di Ceci Maria

 

 

With my daughter Maria and her family coming over this evening for a Mediterranean dinner, I had to come up with one more dish to complement the others I had. Those other dishes included marinated roasted chicken kebabs, of Turkish origin, Ratatouille, the Provençal medley of summer vegetables, and rice. Still having fresh herbs in my garden, I opened a can of chickpeas and highlighted them, salad style, with olive oil, wine vinegar, fresh parsley and basil, black olives, tomato, garlic and sea salt.

Bowl by Maria Dondero, Southern Star Studio

 

All of those ingredients are common in Italy, where Maria often teaches ceramics both through the University of Georgia art program in Cortona, in Tuscany, and as part of a women’s cooperative clay studio in the same city. Chickpeas as a major food item go back to at least Etruscan times in central Italy, well before the Romans took over. Chickpea salads are made in various parts of the Mediterranean, including Italy. So this convenient, easy to make, dish seemed to fit geographically and historically, as well as culinarily, into what I needed to balance tonight’s meal. I’ll serve it from a ceramic bowl Maria made.

 

The recipe serves four to six as a side dish.

 

1 (14-ounce) can chickpeas, drained and rinsed twice

1 small tomato, cored and cut in narrow wedges

12 pitted black olives (such as Kalamata), halved crosswise

1 medium large clove garlic, finely minced

3 sprigs fresh parsley, leaves coarsely chopped

8 medium-large leaves fresh basil, coarsely chopped (or 1/2 tsp dry oregano)

2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil

2 tablespoons wine vinegar, white or red

1/2 teaspoon sea salt, plus more to taste

1/8 teaspoon black pepper

 

In a mixing bowl, combine the chickpeas with the remaining ingredients. Stir well. Allow the mixture to sit for at least half an hour, mixing it occasionally. Taste and add salt and/or a little more vinegar to your taste.

 

Serve in a shallow bowl.

 

Deviled Ham Spread

 

 

I fondly remember Underwood Deviled Ham from my childhood, from the small round can with the iconic perky little red devil on the label. It’s still available, but the Underwood Company, founded as an innovative food canning company by William Underwood in Boston in 1822, was bought by a series of other big food companies beginning in 1982. Underwood’s Deviled Ham was created in 1868 as a mixture of ground ham, mustard powder, and various other spices. The culinary term “deviled” typically connotes seasoned with mustard, hot and black pepper.

I’ve made my own deviled ham spread occasionally as a buffet appetizer, but most recently at a family gathering where my daughter Anna and I prepared a number of spreadable salads – chicken, tuna, egg, as well as deviled ham – for a luncheon served with artisanal breads and crackers. It reminded me of how easy this version of deviled ham is to make from ingredients available at the supermarket.

 

Here’s my recipe. It will serve six to eight or more people as part of a buffet meal, or can be made into sandwiches with or without lettuce. The recipe is easily multiplied to serve more people at a gathering. The spread should be made ahead, maybe the day before serving, and allowed to mellow and blend its flavors.

 

1/2 pound smoked ham  thinly sliced at the deli counter

4 teaspoons Dijon or spicy brown mustard (not yellow hot dog style)

3 teaspoons mayonnaise

1/4 teaspoon vinegar

1/4 teaspoon sugar

1/8 teaspoon black pepper

1/8 teaspoon cayenne

 

Finely mince the sliced ham, either on a cutting board with a chef’s knife or in a food processor (keep it a little coarse, not turned into a paste).

 

Combine the minced ham with the remaining ingredients in a bowl, mixing well. Cover and store the mixture in the refrigerator for a few hours, or preferably overnight. Mix well before serving in a shallow bowl.

 

Serve with interesting bread or low-salt crackers.

 

Basil-braised Baby Potatoes

 

 

I was sort of aware of baby golden potatoes, but hadn’t really cooked with them. That is, until one of our daughters this summer gave us half bag of them, along with other perishable loose ends, to use up as she and her family headed off on vacation. Now I’m trying to figure which preparation with them is my favorite.

 

While Italian-type basil still flourishes in my garden, braised baby potatoes with basil is my new go-to easy side dish. It nicely accompanies grilled meat or salmon and doesn’t need any gravy or sauce. Maybe in winter some other version will emerge, since these potatoes are so simple to prepare and so delightful.

 

The recipe serves 4-6 as part of a dinner meal. The potatoes can be cooked fresh before dinner or prepared ahead and quickly re-fried to serve.

 

3/4 pound (12 ounces) baby golden potatoes

1 small shallot or 1/4 of an onion

3 tablespoons olive oil

2 tablespoons water

1/2 teaspoon salt

1/4 teaspoon black pepper

Small pinch nutmeg

Small pinch cayenne

10 medium-sized fresh basil leaves, sliced

 

Rinse but do not peel potatoes, rubbing the outsides well. Cut potatoes into halves then each halt across into half. Peel and finely chop the shallot or onion. Have the other ingredients ready.

 

Heat to medium hot a heavy frying pan or sauce pan that has a lid. Add the olive oil and potatoes. Stirring very frequently and scraping the bottom of the pan with metal spatula, fry for 2 minutes.

 

Add water, shallot or onion, salt, spices and sliced basil leaves. Stir then fry 2 minutes, covered, then stir and scrape again. Cover and fry another 2 minutes. Continue the alternating frying and stirring until the potato is tender when tested with a toothpick. If potatoes are drying add a tablespoon of water as needed. Taste and if needed add a little salt.

 

Keep warm if to be eaten soon, or cool, refrigerate, then re-fry to heat for serving.

 

Gourmet (“Best Damn”) Sloppy Joes, to Feed a Crowd on the Cheap

 

With prices on beef rapidly rising, maybe it’s time to crank back out the casual dish that used to feed a lot of people for limited money. Its a fun dish I always liked, whether at the high school cafeteria or at home feeding a crowd.

 

“Sloppy Joes” emerged, obscurely, from Depression-era America as a way to season and stretch ground beef. It’s a sort of cheeseburger with all the fixings thrown together while cooking. Spooned onto a bun, the savory mixture is irregular and can drip a little as you eat it. Thus, I guess, the “sloppy.”

 

Decades ago, when my wife graduated from college and we had little money, Christina’s rich relation, the substantial Aunt Babby, came to the graduation and to our celebratory picnic after it. I served Sloppy Joes. Having grown up with Old Money in New York City, fed sumptuously by family servants and at classy restaurants, Babby announced gamely, “Well, I don’t believe I’ve ever had a Sloppy Joe before!” Returning vigorously for seconds, she declared, “Well, that’s the best damn Sloppy Joe I ever ate!”

 

Sloppy Joes combine hamburger (or ground turkey nowadays) with onions, ketchup, mustard, cheese and seasonings. I stretch it even further with bulgar wheat. They’re are served on hamburger buns or Kaiser rolls. Pickles, coleslaw or salad accompany the dish well. Sloppy Joes cry out for beer, especially at a picnic or tailgaiting. But hearty, not too pricey, red wines also do fine.

 

The recipe serves 6 people. Leftovers keep and reheat well.

 

1/3 cup bulgur wheat (available at whole food and health food stores)

1 pound ground beef (80 % lean or more) or ground turkey

1 large onion, finely chopped

1 small or 1/2 large carrot, grated

1 large bay leaf

1 medium-large clove garlic, minced or put through garlic press

5 teaspoons chili powder

1 teaspoon paprika

1 teaspoon oregano

1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon

1/2 teaspoon ground allspice

1/4 teaspoon black pepper

1 tablespoon tomato paste or 2 tablespoons ketchup

1 1/2 teaspoons Dijon mustard

1 1/4 teaspoons salt, plus more to taste

5 teaspoons sugar

7 teaspoons cider vinegar

3 ounces cheddar cheese, cut in small cubes or grated

 

Soak the bulgur wheat in about 3 cups of hot water for 30 minutes. Drain in a sieve. Meanwhile, fry the meat in a heavy, non corrosive pot, breaking up the meat and stirring frequently. When the juices start to dry down, set the pot off the heat, make a cavity in the meat, and spoon out and discard the majority of grease. Return the meat to the heat and add the chopped onions. Stir frequently, cook until the onions are translucent. Add the grated carrot, bay leaf, and garlic. Cook over medium heat, covered, stirring from time to time, until the carrot bits are tender. Lower the heat, add the dry seasonings, and cook, stirring, for a minute. Add the tomato paste (or ketchup) and mustard. Simmer, stirring occasionally, for several minutes. Add the drained bulgur, and cook, stirring occasionally (the bulgur makes the mixture stick to the bottom a little), for 5-10 minutes, until the bulgur is tender when you bite it. Do not add water unless the mixture is very dry. Stir in the salt toward the end of this cooking. 

 

Add the sugar and vinegar, and let simmer, stirring occasionally, for several minutes. Taste and add salt if needed. Stir in the cheese, and heat, stirring frequently, until the cheese is melted and no longer is stringy. Remove the bay leaf. Taste a final time and add salt if necessary. You can also add a little sugar or vinegar, to taste.

 

It’s best to make the Sloppy Joes a few hours or up to several days ahead of time, refrigerate, then reheat to serve. Check the salt before serving.

 

Serve on Kaiser rolls or burger buns, A little grated cheese can be served on top of the mixture, if desired. Accompany by coleslaw (or salad) and/or pickles.

 

 

 

Chopped Pork braised with Peaches, for Georgia

 

 

Prices are getting higher as we appear headed into inflation at the grocery store. It’s feeling once again like the recession we experienced in the early 2000s. That’s when I started my first recipe blog. I named it “Gourmetfauche,” which is French slang for the broke, or impoverished, gourmet. In it I used virtually no nice cuts of beef or lamb and no shrimp or salmon, except around St. Patrick’s Day (despite my Italian surname, I’m mostly Irish). There was plenty of ground meat and chicken thigh.

 

Right now I’m feeling like I did back then. And I created an inexpensive dinner dish with my adopted home state of Georgia in mind: braised chopped pork with peaches. It goes well with seasoned (“dinner”) grits and a green vegetable. It’s a little reminiscent of “Breakfast for Dinner,” since the pork is flavored like breakfast sausage.

 

I initially tried a barbecue-flavored pork with the peaches, but without the long moist smoking it wasn’t very successful or convincing with the chopped pork. So I switched the seasonings to resemble breakfast sausage. With grits, such as dinner grits (described elsewhere in this blog, July 30, 2023) or simply white breakfast grits, and a green vegetable, it makes an economical but tasty evening dinner. And it suggests, if not celebrates, Georgia.

 

The recipe serves four to six people. Accompany with seasoned grits plus a green vegetable. Salad would also accompany it well.

 

1 pound ground pork, not too fatty

1 large peach, peeled and stoned, finely chopped

1/4 small onion or a small shallot, finely chopped

1 hot pepper, finely chopped or 3/4 teaspoon crushed dry pepper

1 teaspoon paprika

3/4 teaspoon ground black pepper

1/2 teaspoon dry thyme

1/2 teaspoon dry marjoram or savory

1 teaspoon salt

Parsley for garnish, minced or in small pieces

 

In a heavy pan, place pork, peach, onion or shallot, and all seasonings except salt. Heat and stir very frequently until the pork’s color fully changes. Add salt, and cook over low heat for 15 minutes or until tender. If the meat dries, add a little water. Taste and add salt if needed.

 

The dish can be served now, or refrigerated and reheated (microwave or stove top). Either sprinkle with minced parsley or place a few small pieces of parsley on top. Accompany with grits (fancier dinner grits or simpler breakfast grits) plus a green vegetable.

 

Figs with Prosciutto – Prosciutto e Fichi

 

At peak season right now in northeast Georgia, figs are luscious. We have two very productive trees at the restaurant. Most of the harvest (that survives eating right off the tree) is destined for fig chutney, which stores well and is used in some of our baked goods and appetizers. But for several weeks fresh figs lend themselves to a special treat from northeastern Italy, served cut into halves (quarters if larger than ours) and topped with a small curl of dry-cured Italian Prosciutto ham. 

 

Figs are one of the earliest fruits domesticated by humans, dating back about 6500 years in the Near East. Prosciutto is pretty ancient too, dating back to at least early Roman times, with several written descriptions from that era. The city of Parma was noted in 200 BC to be a center of the production. Prosciutto di Parma, is still one of the most valued of the dry-cured hams from Italy.

 

Making prosciutto is simple in concept, though complex in practice. Hind legs from specially reared pigs are skinned and deboned then cured in salt for one to two months to extract all liquid and to prevent spoilage or harmful organisms. The hams are then rinsed off and hung to dry for many months, up to three years..

 

Prosciutto is typically sliced and sold paper-thin. It’s fairly expensive, given the long curing process. But it is used in small quantities as charcuterie and to highlight pasta dishes, fresh mozzarella and other cheeses, and fruits like melon, peaches and figs.

 

Other than finding fresh tasty figs, and the sometimes painful price on prosciutto, making Prosciutto e Fichi is simple. The dish serves as a starter course or an antipasto.

 

The recipe is based per person, but the quantity is easily multiplied according how many people are eating.

 

For each person:

4-5 small figs or 2-3 larger ones

1 thin slice prosciutto

 

Cut stems off figs. If using smaller figs, split them in half lengthwise. For larger ones cut them lengthwise into quarters. Lay them out on an attractive plate or platter.

 

Cut 1 slice of prosciutto per person crosswise into the number of pieces needed to cover the fig pieces for 1 person. Either drape a piece of prosciutto over fig piece, or roll or fold the prosciutto piece and place on top of the piece of fig, whichever method looks better for the figs used.

 

Allow to sit at least ten minutes for flavors to blend a little. Serve at room temperature.

 

 

French Cucumber Salad with Sour Cream and Dill

 

 

I first had this dish many years ago in Lyons, France. It was prepared by an excellent cook who was also a medical researcher I was visiting. The salad was the cooling starter course for dinner on a warm summer evening. It’s easy to make, particularly if you use a vegetable slicer for slicing the cucumber. Although the salad was originally finished with crème fraiche (French cultured heavy cream), American sour cream or plain Greek-style yogurt do almost as well.

 

The recipe serves six as an appetizer course or side dish for dinner.

 

2 large regular cucumbers or one long (plastic sleeved) cucumber

8 ice cubes

1/2 teaspoon salt for preparing cucumber plus 3/4 teaspoon for seasoning the salad

1 small shallot or 1 large scallion (green onion)

1 tablespoon white vinegar (wine or distilled)

1 teaspoon sugar

1/8 teaspoon black pepper

2 tablespoons freshly minced dill (reserving 1 teaspoon of it for garnish)

1/4 cup crème fraiche, sour cream, or Greek yogurt

 

Peel cucumbers thinly, leaving some green color. Quarter them lengthwise. If the seeds are large, cut off and discard seed section. Slice cucumbers very thinly (a vegetable slicer makes this easier). 20 minutes before serving time, mix sliced cucumbers with ice cubes, enough water to reach the surface of the cucumbers, plus 1/2 teaspoon salt. Mix together gently and allow the mixture to sit for 5 minutes. Drain well.

 

Slice shallot or scallion (green part also) very thinly and add to the cucumber. Add vinegar, sugar, pepper, most of the dill, and 3/4 teaspoon salt. Stir well. Allow to sit at least 10 minutes, stirring occasionally. Taste for salt and add a little if necessary.

 

Just before serving, drain away the juices. Add crème fraiche, sour cream or yogurt and mix in well. Taste and adjust salt, if necessary. Spoon into a shallow, attractive dish and dust with the reserved dill.