The Greasy Bookshelf: Home Cooking by Laurie Colwin

With the temperatures in the teens earlier this week, I felt like a character in a Jack London story. Feeling this way is understandable when I'm outdoors, but I also feel this way indoors, which is pitiful. As I get older, it seems like it becomes more of struggle to maintain my core body temperature. I'm sure I'm imagining this, but it's becoming a problem because I've actually contemplated purchasing one of those Snuggie blankets, a sure sign of madness or that I'm one step away from joining a cult. I've resisted such drastic measures though. Instead I bake, prepare a good soup, or distract myself by curling up with a good book.

I usually don't curl up with a cookbook because they tend to be bulky and cumbersome. Recently though I encountered Laurie Colwin's cookbook/memoir Home Cooking. The book fit snuggly into my hand, and in the opening she writes, "Unlike some people, who love to go out, I love to stay home." At that point this this homebody realized he had discovered a kindred spirit and a perfect book to distract me from the cold.

The book's casual delivery put me at ease. Her recipes are more casual suggestions rather than rigid instructions. Throughout the book, she gently nudged me to contemplate the possibilities each recipe might offer. This is an approach I need to adopt, for I too often cook by the book and find myself getting uptight about following a recipe verbatim.

This book also contains a dash of gentle humor, which is nice respite from the in-your-face, cynical humor that is in vogue. Do yourself a favor? Visit a bookstore or library and read pg. 150, where she describes some bad home-cooked meals she's had the misfortune of eating. She doesn't merely lambast these meals; instead, there's a certain reverence for such meals. She writes:

There is something triumphant about a really disgusting meal. It lingers in the memory with a lurid glow, just as something exalted is remembered with a kind of mellow brilliance. I am not think of kitchen disasters - chewy pasta, burnt browneis, curdled sauces: these can happen to anyone. I'm thinking about meals that are positively loathsome from soup to nuts, although one is not usually fortunate enough to get eith soup or nuts.

Bad food abounds in restaurants, but somehow a bad meal in a restaurant and a bad home-cooked meal are not the same: after all, the restaurant did not invite you to dinner.

Then she goes on to describe some of the worst home-cooked meals she's encountered. The following is a little taste from one of those meals:

At the door, our hostess spoke these dread words: "I'm trying this recipe out on you. I've never made it before. It's a medieval recipe. It looked very interesting."

Somehow I have never felt that "interesting" is an encouraging word when applied to food.
In the kitchen were two enormous and slightly crooked pies.

"They're medieval fish pies," she said.

This book is triumphant indeed and provides the perfect companion for some under-the-cover reading on a cold, winter day.

take care,
muddywaters


PS. . . Checkout the Snuggie blanket parody at YouTube.

40-Hour Week Dinner Rolls A.K.A. Scoop-and-Bake Dinner Rolls

We love music here at The Greasy Skillet. There are days when carefully selected playlists are as essential in the kitchen as sharp knives.
We don't discriminate when it comes to music. We spin an eclectic mix of music in our kitchen.

I love songs that mention geographic locales. I trace this love back to singing Woody Guthrie's "This Land is Your Land" back in my elementary school days. When I hear a song that mentions a dot or squiggle on a map, I start thinking about the possibilities the road has to offer. Of course, some of those possibilities involve food.

However, I've noticed songwriters often ignore the state of Kansas. They seem to favor those Southern states or California, and if I had a dollar for every song that mentioned Texas, I could retire and blog full time.

I have encountered a few songs that mention the Great State of Kansas. Over the next few weeks I will spotlight some of those songs, and since this is a food blog, I'll throw in a recipe to accompany each song.

When I told Mr. Crankypants about this feature he actually smiled and seemed excited - something I rarely see from him. When I revealed the song I would use to kickoff this feature, he threw a fit and screamed, "Nooooo. You can't feature that song. It's crap. It's schmaltzy drivel. It has slick, over-produced sound that sounds canned. In fact, it's the equivalent of canned mushrooms. You wouldn't use canned mushrooms in a recipe."

I then explained to him that this song was part of my youth, and here at the The Greasy Skillet I strive to be honest, even if it is a bit ugly. I told him that a people shouldn't have to defend their musical tastes. I also told him that I don't have a problem occasionally using canned mushrooms when I cook. To conclude my argument, I simply informed him that this was my blog and I would do whatever the heck I wanted to do and schmalty drivel is redundant.

He simply grimaced through my whole explanation.

Today's featured song is "40-Hour Week" by Alabama. I have fond memories of this song. When I was in middle school, I'd spend the weekend with my cousin who lived in Quenemo, Kansas. In the afternoons, we take a pocketfull of quarters and head down to the travern, where we'd waste away the afternoon shooting pool, playing Galaga, and eating junk food. We'd also pump quarters into the jukebox. Between cuts from Def Leppard and Pat Benetar, we'd play some Alabama

The song "40-Hour Week" praises the hard workin' folk across American. It's just one of many country songs that explores this theme, but at one time I really loved the song because it was the first song that mentioned my home state.

There are people in this country who work hard every day
Not for fame or fortune do they strive
But the fruits of their labor are worth more than their pay
And it's time a few of them were recognized

Hello Detroit auto workers, let me thank you for your time
You work a forty hour week for a livin', just to send it on down the line
Hello Pittsburgh steel mill workers, let me thank you for your time
You work a forty hour week for a livin', just to send it on down the line

This is for the one who swings the hammer, driving home the nail
Or the one behind the counter, ringing up the sale
Or the one who fights the fires, the one who brings the mail
For everyone who works behind the scenes

You can see them every morning in the factories and the fields
In the city streets and the quiet country towns
Working together like spokes inside a wheel
They keep this country turning around

Hello Kansas wheat field farmer, let me thank you for your time
You work a forty hour week for a livin', just to send it on down the line
Hello West Virginia coal miner, let me thank you for your time
You work a forty hour week for a livin', just to send it on down the line

This is for the one who drives the big rig, up and down the road
Or the one out in the warehouse, bringing in the load
Or the waitress, the mechanic, the policeman on patrol
For everyone who works behind the scenes

With a spirit you can't replace with no machine
Hello America let me thank you for your time

You wont' find this song on my Ipod, but if I heard "40-Hour Week" blaring from a bar jukebox, I'd hoist a beer and heartily sing that line about Kansas wheat field farmers.

Here's a recipe for those who people who work hard each day and find it difficult to fit a little baking into the schedule:

Scoop-and-Bake Dinner Rolls

Ingredients:

• 2 1/4 cups all-purpose flour
• 14/ cup sugar
• 1 teaspoon salt
• 1 envelope (2 1/4 teaspoons) instant yeast
• 1 cup warm water
• 6 tablespoons unsalted butter, softened
• 1 large egg

Preparation:

1. Grease a twelve-cup muffin tin.
   
2. Whisk 1 1/4 cups of the flour, salt, sugar, and yeast in a large bowl. Whisk in the butter, egg, and water until it is smooth. Add the remaining 1 cup of flour and mix until it's combined. Cover the bowl with plastic wrap and place in a warm place until the batter has doubled in size. This will take about 30 minutes.
3. Preheat the oven to 375 degrees. Punch the dough down. Scoop the batter evenly into the muffin cups. I use a large ice cream scoop. Cover the muffin cups with greased plastic wrap and let rise at room temperature until the batter reaches the rims of the muffin cups, about 15 minutes.
4. Remove the plastic wrap and bake the rolls until golden, 14 to 18 minutes. Allow to cool for about 10-15 minutes before removing.
   
5. Serve

What's your favorite song that mentions a geographic locale?

May your tank always be full,
muddywaters

Next week Josh Ritter's "Lawrence, KS" will be in the spotlight.

Greatest Hits: Mahnomin Porridge

My first album I ever purchased was Shaun Cassidy's Da Doo Ron Ron. My first cassette purchased was Queen's Greatest Hits. My first CD was The Ramones' Greatest Hits. Since I seem to be a fan of greatest hits compilations and since some of my earliest posts wallowed in obscurity, I thought I would periodically feature some of my favorite posts in a segment called Greatest Hits. Today I serve up a piping hot bowl of Mahnomin Porridge:

At the table in the kitchen, there were three bowls of porridge. Goldilocks was hungry. She tasted the porridge from the first bowl.

"This porridge is too hot!" she exclaimed.

So, she tasted the porridge from the second bowl.

"This porridge is too cold," she said

So, she tasted the last bowl of porridge.

"Ahhh, this porridge is just right," she said happily and she ate it all up.

***From "Goldilocks and the Three Bears"

I always found this story disturbing, especially the part about her sleeping in their beds. That's downright creepy. I bet she rifled through their underwear drawers also. However, her greatest atrocity came when she ate their breakfast. Eating another man's (or bear's) breakfast just ain't civil.

This story first introduced me to porridge. I had no idea what it was, but I thought it was similar to oatmeal. It turns out I was right. According to wikipedia, porridge is a simple dish made by boiling oats and sometimes a mixture of other grains in milk or water. I also learned the following interesting facts about porridge

1. In parts of Asia porridge is fed to horses and donkeys (This fact just makes me smile. "Honey, I'm going out to the barn to feed the donkeys their porridge.").
2. Gruel is a form of porridge, but it's usually a thinner consistency, so that people can drink it (I might make some gruel for my daughter because I think it would be fun to scream, "Drink your gruel, or you'll get no dessert!).
3. Every October Scotland hosts the World Porridge Making Championships, where contestants battle for the Golden Spurtle Trophy. A spurtle is a special spoon used to stir porridge. For you curious souls, here's a picture of spurtle (I won't comment on the phallic nature of it. I'd be embarrassed to whip this out of my kitchen drawer):
4. Many cultures use porridge to nurse the sick back to health.

When I read on roadfood.com about the Mahnomin Porridge served at Hell's Kitchen in Minneapolis, I thought it sounded interesting, but something I'd never try. For the record, I've never craved porridge. I've never been fan of hot breakfast cereals like oatmeal, mush, or grits. However, I think some of it has to do with its unappealing name. I think the name porridge turns most people off to the dish. In fact, very few people ordered it when it first appeared on Hell's Kitchen's menu. Then they started giving it away, but people still balked at trying it. Eventually, people tried the dish, realized it was heavenly, and now it's a popular menu item.

Last week I had the privilege of eating at Hell's Kitchen, and I was still reluctant to try it. However, the snowy weather and my lumberjack attitude prompted me to give the porridge a try, and when I tried the first bite I was a porridge convert. At that moment I wanted to be porridge's new PR man, spreading the gospel of this great dish. So here I am blogging about it.

Like most restaurant dishes that bring a glint to my eye, I'm always inspired to replicate the dish at home. This drives my wife nuts. She doesn't understand why I would go to all the trouble. She doesn't understand why I just can't enjoy the dish at the restaurant, where it's something special, a treat. Now my wife is partially right. For some reason she's always right and I'm wrong. This is the gospel truth. However, believing that I'm right, I usually respond with a two-pronged response:

1. I could make this dish for a fraction of what they're charging me at the restaurant.
2. What if someday we live somewhere like Moscow, Kansas, where there's not a wide range of restaurants.? Wouldn't it be nice to have a husband, who can prepare a huge repertoire of dishes?

In which she responds:

1. We'll never live in Moscow, Kansas.
2. We can afford to occasionally eat a meal at a restaurant. There's nothing wrong with occasionally treating ourselves.

She's probably right, but I still insist on replicating recipes I encounter on restaurant menus.

This morning I made the Mahnomin Porridge.

Mahnomin Porridge

(Photo from roadfood.com)

Ingredients

• 4 cups cooked wild rice
  

• ¼ cup pure maple syrup

• ¼ cup dried blueberries

• ¼ cup craisins

• ½ cup roasted, cracked hazelnuts

• 1 cup heavy cream
  

Preparation

1. In a heavy non-stick sautee pan, add the cooked wild rice, heavy cream, and maple syrup, and warm through.
2. Add the blueberries, craisins, and hazelnuts, and stir to mix well.
3. Serve in a bowl with sides of warm heavy cream and maple syrup.
   

Now my attempt at Mahnomin Porridge wasn't quite as good as Hell's Kitchen, but it still was pretty darn good. I think, there are three things I could do to improve the porridge:

1. I used half and half, and using heavy cream would improve my porridge.
   
2. I could toast my hazlenuts in a skillet. I stepped this step, so I could stuff my face. Toasting or roasting nuts would definitely give the nuts a more pronounced flavor.
3. I could use a better quality maple syrup. I don't really know anything about maple syrup, so I just grabbed the cheapest bottle, a $3.50 bottle of Maple Grove Farms: U.S. grade A Dark Amber. I've been cooking long enough to know that sometimes the quality of ingredients does matter, so I'll research maple syrups and find a better one to use with this recipe. This might be the most important thing I could do to improve the recipe.

I also think you could experiment with the ingredients a bit. Pecans would work in place of hazlenuts. If you don't have wild rice, you could probably use a white rice. Also, you could add a little cinnamon, nutmeg, or vanilla to change the flavor of this recipe. Overall, I'm happy with my results, and I look forward to enjoying this porridge on a cold, snowy, day.

Happy eating,
muddywaters