Tag Archives: recipe

Corn “Quiche”

Annual holiday conundrum. New apartment, great building, maintenance service that actually saved our lives when a holiday sauce I was making boiled over, flame went out but gas was on all night. I hate the impersonal nature of giving cash, or gift cards. So what can I do?

I looked up recipes online and found this corn casserole that looked good for “my guys.” It’s on Epicurious, look up Corn Custard with Chorizo for the recipe. It’s still there all these years later! They won’t let me print it and I don’t want to get sued so I’ll just point you in the right direction.

I made them a casserole and they loved it. Jeff loved it so much that the next year I made him a mini-custard just for himself. He got another job and told his replacement, Tom, that he could stay in his apartment for the weekend and when he returned, Tom had eaten the entire casserole. Uh oh. Big stink.

Post-Jeff, I kept making the recipe for Tom (and the guys) every year until he got another job as well. I had the recipe, just hadn’t dusted it off in a while. The boys always called it “corn quiche.” Manly men that they are, I thought the term quaint.

In the boonies, you can’t get cured, smoked Spanish chorizo, so I decided to make my own Mexican choriizo. It’s from a recipe on daringgourmet.com. Note that if you want to make this recipe, you have to mix the pork sausage meat with the spices and leave it in the frig for three days before using. Don’t let it become a timing issue! I cooked it up and we tasted it, not too spicy and very flavorful.

Tonight I’m using my brand new 3-day old homemade chorizo (doubled the meat for the hard-working ranchers) for dinner at my in-laws. I’m serving it with a plain green Romaine salad with sherry vinaigrette.

This post is for Jeff and Tom, wherever you may be. Sorry I haven’t been around much. Lots to do and like everyone, I’m overwhelmed by the politics of everyday living. Cheers! Dee

Recipes

Got any good ones? I mean any good, badly written ones. Permit me to elaborate.

My m-i-l is known for her delicious potato rolls. She’s always baking five dozen or so at a time for church event or family get-together, no matter who’s the host. Could you bring your potato rolls, sandwiches for fifty guests? Please?

She first showed me a recipe for these refrigerator rolls a couple of decades ago. It gave a few steps then said “go to church. When you get back, they should be ready.” What?

She just shared with me the original, published in a local paper decades earlier. Not only does it call for shortening twice, the second time it appeared it was in place of sugar. Then it goes like this: “Work it up good and put in refrigerator to rise until light. Put a wet cloth over it, then work down, and fix out anyway you want to cook it.” Huh? To someone who’s never made bread before, it must be like reading ancient Greek.

I had the luxury of putting myself through cooking school so I know a lot about how food works. I’ve never been much of a baker because my mother and sisters were, and that’s more of a science with exact rules to make something rise, for instance. Many of my recipes are familial lore, oft-practiced creations or seat-of-the-pants creations. I’m loath to write them in a recipe for a friend because it’s so difficult to put a feel (of dough) or taste in writing and make it come through understandably.

When a recipe is printed in a newspaper, however, one would think it would have some vetting, editing for clarity’s sake at least. So, I’m not speaking to you as a recipe-writing expert. Here I’m just trying to show how not to write a recipe.

Yesterday, at an alt-family Thanksiving my m-i-l was hand-writing her potato roll recipe for yet another guest, a wife of twenty years who has raised a family and still doesn’t know how to cook, especially making bread, so the recipe had to be exact. Two recipes, one with ingredients and the other with each detailed step described. I felt for her, knowing that no matter what the recipient did with the recipe, it would never have the je ne sais crois that M’s has for the past fifty-plus years she’s been making them. I’ve been cooking with her for twenty years and I’d never try to make her potato rolls.

This weekend we tried my seat-of-the-pants version of a breakfast bread. One recipe of M’s potato rolls, rolled out and spread with my cranberry sauce (that I also used for my creation of a Cranberry-Orange Trifle for the gang), then rolled up, made into a ring and split partway into 1″ slices before baking. It was gorgeous and very tasty, topped with a sheen of leftover buttercream. Yum.

My version, a riff on a published lemon blueberry trifle, mixes lemon-orange (7-Up) cake, orange syrup, cranberry sauce (homemade), homemade orange curd and whipped cream/orange curd mix garnished with candied orange slices. It was a hit. No, I’m not giving you the recipe. A fun thing to do, however, when you know the basics for a simple English trifle, is riffing on flavors. My most recent starts with a Ghirardelli brownie mix substituting espresso for the water. sliced in half crosswise. Layer brownie half in a trifle bowl (c’mon, it’s the easiest dessert and looks difficult and presents magnificently so spend $30 for a proper trifle bowl), spread on raspberry pie filling from a can, add a layer of homemade whipped cream and repeat. Top the upper layer of whipped cream with cocoa powder or chocolate curls. If the brownie mix is stale, no problem, brush some simple syrup on each layer before the berries and cream. Voila. Looks and tastes great.

It was a good weekend until my transmission failed on the trip home As Scarlett O’Hara would say, “tomorrow is another day.” Indeed. Cheers and submit Oopsie Recipes to me if you wish. Dee

Gourmet

Ruth Reichl, I love you!

A dear friend gave my mother Gourmet in the 70’s and she transitioned from cream of mushroom soup to souffles.

When I first read it, the recipes were all written without an ingredient list and everything in paragraphs. I remember one for a tagine that at the last moment called for lemons that had to have been prepared and marinated for three weeks.

Bummer. Get to the end of a recipe and have to wait three weeks to make it.

I always loved Gourmet in whatever incantation and wish it were alive today, but I must confess that in my blog I talk it through just like you did back in the day.

There’s no list of ingredients or amounts, as some strange lawyer says “This sounds like a recipe of my Aunt Millie from Arkansas from the 1940’s. I’m suing you.”

I don’t publish recipes online, except the ones I create. Photos are essential, I know. As the fog comes in and off the lake and the trees and moon emerge from time to time, I think it’s going to be a good day. Except the birds start chatting at 4:05 now talking about who Kathy went out with last night and why was Kyle working late again.

Yes, I speak dog and cat and am learning bird. Cheers! Dee