An Open Letter to my Marvelous Mother

Photo Credit, SC Johnson, Right@Home

Dear Mom,

Culling out a single food memory from my childhood would be impossible as there are so very many, so here is my open thank you letter to you.

Thank you for our family field trips to farm stands on the east end of Long Island. At the time, I had no idea how important it was for me to see real food in its natural state.

Thank you for being a gracious and creative hostess. I couldn't possibly remember all of your parties, but some of my best memories are of making and serving dinner by candlelight for a Colonial Williamsburg dinner, clambakes, and cocktail hours that lasted several hours on our boat. But of course, I'd be remiss in not recalling your very popular, annual survival party - an outdoor event on New Year's Day. Yes, you served too much food and people drank too much. But the laughter that you inspired will ring forever in my ears.

Thank you for taking risks. What were you thinking when you taught a group of 4th graders to make croissants for a French class project with no oven. (Oh, yeah, I would probably do something so silly these days).

Thank you for your willingness to experiment. While you'd never touch a roll of sushi, you exposed me to so many different cuisines as a kid - I remember the fondue pot, the wok, the crepe pan, and of course your famous krumkakers filled with sweetened whipped cream.

Thank you for showing me the importance of family dinner. While I may forgo the candles that you set out, we continue this tradition every night, one that keeps our family strong.

Thank you for not being perfect, for the occasional Dorito, coke and McDonald's visit. Although you made what we may now consider mistakes, it's comforting to know that if you get all the big stuff right, things will probably turn out okay.

Thank you for birthday cakes, raucous parties, cooking lessons, nourishment and nutrition, and of course for soft-boiled eggs.

I'm pretty certain that I have never pulled out an egg cup in my own home. I've scrambled, poached, hard-boiled, omeletted, fried, even coddled, but never made myself a soft-boiled egg with sliced buttered toast like you served me on a many a cold morning before school. Thank you for that memory, so simple, so unspoiled and yet so profound.

Thank you most of all for being my mom.

Love,

Me

Soft-Boiled Eggs
Do I really to give a recipe for this? Probably. Because many people weren't lucky enough to have a mom like mine to show them the ropes in the kitchen.

3 eggs

Bring a pot just large enough to hold the eggs filled with water to a hard boil. Add the eggs and cook between 3 and 4 minutes or until done to your preference. Cut of about a 1/4-inch of the egg's top with a serrated knife. Serve with thinly sliced buttered toast.

If you're looking for a home run recipe to make for your marvelous mom, try the Orange Delight Pancakes pictured above, a recipe I created for SC Johnson's Right@Home website.

Best Steak Sauce Ever: Staking My Reputation

I hate superlatives in food.

When I see a restaurant touting "the best [fill in the blank]," I turn on my heels and look for another.

"Best" in a subjective realm like food is a matter of taste. My best chocolate chip cookie is super thin, with crispy edges and soft chocolate chips. Yours may be soft and chewy with the addition of chopped nuts.

That being said, after dinner tonight, I need to share with you the best steak sauce ever or at least the best steak sauce I've ever made.

I'd been hesitant in the past to share this recipe because it has a secret ingredient. I'm not keeping it a secret, it's simply one that you likely won't have readily at your disposal. However, given that the raw material for this secret ingredient is now in season, I thought I'd share with you with my best steak sauce ever.

Strip Steaks with Special Steak Sauce

 Serves 2-3

2 strip steaks

2 teaspoons grapeseed or vegetable oil

¼ cup red wine

2/3 cup chicken or beef stock

1 teaspoon balsamic

1 ½ teaspoon Dijon mustard

2 pickled ramps (recipe available at The Local Beet)

1 teaspoon sour cream

Heat a cast iron skillet over high heat. Add oil and heat until smoking.  Sear seasoned steaks on each side. Reduce the heat to medium heat and cook until 120° F about 7 to 10 minutes total.

Remove the steaks to a plate and cover with aluminum foil. Pour in the red wine and reduce slightly. Add stock and reduce until there’s only about 3 tablespoons of sauce in the pan. Add balsamic, mustard, and finely chopped ramps. Cook for 2 minutes.  Reduce the heat to medium and whisk in sour cream and any juices that have accumulated on the plate.  Serve the steaks drenched with sauce.

Snow Days and Rice Crispy Treats

Certainly, I'm not the only one with fond memories of listening to news radio on snowy mornings for school closures. Snow days were one of the great pleasures of my childhood, time spent alternating between outside snow play and indoor lazy day activities. Given that my mom was a school teacher, she too would have the day off so we could host friends, build snowmen, make cocoa, and, of course, play around in the kitchen.

As a parent, it was a sad day when I realized that here in Illinois we don't get snow days. We're a tough bunch here in the Midwest. No matter how deep the accumulation or how low the wind chill, school must go on. As a working parent, I know I should be grateful, but still . . .

So when Saturday's weather reports predicted our first snowstorm, I didn't think as an adult about errands not run or sidewalks to shovel. Instead, I was as giddy as Thor about the possibility of a snow day that we could actually enjoy. We made snow angels, took a long walk, had a snowball fight, made hot cocoa, and made a giant mess in our kitchen. Within four hours, we'd prepared brownies, cashew brittle, gingersnaps, oatmeal cookies, marshmallows, and the very pinnacle of nostalgic indulgences: Rice Crispy Treats.

I have not made them since high school, but one nibble of one recently sent me in a swoon and it got me thinking - why must they be made with margarine and bagged marshmallows? How awesome would they be if I used the real deal - butter, sugar, and real vanilla? Suspicions confirmed. Even my husband who originally pooh poohed my suggestion because he "never liked them" rated them tops among the days baking experiments.

I brought them that evening to a friend's Chanukah party and apparently, without my knowledge, she too was guilty of Rice Crispy nostalgia. I'd wished I'd made more because they were the first to depart the dessert tray. At least I'd saved some for the little locavore who rated them tops as well.

Cheers to snow days!



Little Locathor and his snowSam.

Rice Crispy Treats

1 envelope (1 scant tablespoon) unflavored gelatin
3/4 cup granulated sugar
1/3 cup light corn syrup
1 pinch kosher salt
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
Vegetable oil cooking spray
5 tablespoons butter
5 1/2 cups puffed brown rice

Spray two 9 x 13-inch baking pan with cooking spray. Line with parchment and spray with more oil.

Pour 1/4 cup cold water into the bowl of an electric mixer. Sprinkle with gelatin.

Mix together sugar, corn syrup, salt, and 1/4 cup water in a medium saucepan. Bring to a boil and cook, swirling the pan occasionally, until syrup reaches 238 degrees (soft-ball stage) on a candy thermometer.

Fit the mixer with the whisk attachment. Begin whisking gelatin mixture on low speed. Gradually pour the syrup in a steady stream down the side of the bowl. Increase the speed slowly to high and then beat until is thick, opaque, and has almost tripled in volume. Don't overbeat. Add vanilla, and beat just to combine.

Spray a rubber spatula with cooking spray and scrape the mixture into the first prepared baking pan; smooth with a greased offset spatula. Let stand at room temperature, uncovered, until firm, at least 3 hours or overnight.

Scoop the marshmallows into a large saucepan, add butter, and cook over medium heat until melted. Add rice and stir strongly to combine. Press into the second prepared pan and cut into squares.

Best served on the same day that they're made, if they last that long.

Indian Summer, Global Warming and Grilled Currant-Mustard Chicken Thighs

It was a fine weekend in Chicago full of endless blue skies and autumn trees in full plumage. It was also hot, the thermometer hovering near 80 F. With fall duties on my agenda, including planting mums and changing over closets, this spike in temperature was not welcome. Then there's the suggestion from our friendly neighborhood weathermen that these warm days are with us for a little while, about a week they say.

Of course, we've always had Indian summer, a day or two of unseasonable warmth in autumn. But this is more than that and it seems to underline recent assertions by Chicagoans in the know that in 20 years our weather will be more like that of Arkansas. That may sound nice to those of us who've survived a Chicago winter or two, but let's not forget what that means for Arkansas and rest of the southern states of this country, much less that of the southern hemisphere. And still politicians debate about the existence of global warming.

Not wanting to fire up the air conditioner again, we threw open all the doors and windows. For dinner, we lit the fire in our Big Green Egg so as to avoid the oven and served a meal of fall ingredients cooked summer style, including Grill Roasted Butternut Squash Served on Mustard Greens with Goat Brie and Walnuts and Red Currant-Mustard Chicken Thighs.

Red Currant-Mustard Chicken Thighs
Serves 6

1/2 cup red currant jelly
2 tablespoons Dijon mustard
1 tablespoon white wine vinegar
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
6 boneless skinless chicken thighs

Combine the first 4 ingredients in a small saucepan and bring to a boil over medium-high heat, whisking frequently. Turn the heat to medium and reduce by half to a sticky glaze. Fire up a grill or heat a non-stick grill pan. Brush the glaze all over the chicken thighs and cook until they reach 165 F. This won't take long at all. Serve warm or at room temperature.