Thoughts on Thanksgiving

Perhaps the most important food holiday ever created, Thanksgiving inspires more anguish, hand-wringing, and contradictory turkey advice than any other single meal of the year. I, frankly, am sick of reading the "brine your turkey, don't brine your turkey, baste every fifteen minutes, don't open the oven door until it's done" arguments. All these "experts" and their absolute certainty that their way is the only way to cook a turkey advice make me a little crazy! I have spent inordinate amounts of time reading all the different advice for Thanksgiving dinner. I have used several different methods for cooking the bird and have found some better than others. SO, I have developed my OWN annoying litany of turkey do's and don'ts. And why should you follow my advice as opposed to Alton Brown's or Martha Stewart's? Because I am the goddess of real world cooking, that's why. Plus I am always right about everything. The sooner you realize that, as I tell my husband, the happier we'll all be.

Turkey do's:

• Brine. It actually does make the turkey moister. Just make sure you keep it cold while you're brining. You can put the turkey in one of those really big ziploc bags and add a brine of 2 cups of kosher salt and 1 cup of brown sugar with some peppercorns thrown in and dissolved in 1 quart of boiling water. After it cools, add about one more quart of cold water. Then put the whole thing in a cooler and surround with ice. Or if you live in a cold climate like I do, put it in a big pot and leave it in the 35 degree garage.
• Give the bird a good massage. With butter that is. All over. Season with salt and pepper. If you're feeling adventurous, you could rub some of that butter, mixed with herbs of your choice under the skin of the breast.
  
• Stuff. I know, I know, you've read all the Cassandra warnings about not stuffing your turkey. Guess what? We've all been stuffing our turkeys for at least as long as I've been alive and I don't know anyone who's died from eating turkey. Just make sure you cook the damn thing long enough. To 165 degrees in the center of the stuffing. Nobody wants to eat the stuffing that's not cooked inside the turkey anyway.
  
• Baste. Every fifteen minutes. A lot. I start with a stick of butter until the turkey starts to render some of its fat.
  
• Put cheesecloth on the breast. You are pretty much trying to cook two different kinds of meat (white and dark) at the same time. Soak a piece of cheesecloth in butter and lay on the breast. Then baste both under and on top of the cheesecloth. Take the cheesecloth off for the last twenty to thirty minutes.

Turkey don'ts

• Don't use one of those awful turkey bags. You are then not roasting, you are steaming.
• Don't cover with foil. Again, you are then not roasting. You are steaming.
• Don't even think of using Alton Brown's method of not opening the oven door. I did it once. Most dried out turkey I ever made.
• Don't deep fry. While it is delicious, this is Thanksgiving. Save that for your Super Bowl party or something. Have a little self-respect!
  

That is about all there is to it. Pretty simple, really. For straightforward directions on how to roast a turkey, consult the Joy of Cooking. Call or email (jsantini1@msn.com) if you need help. I'm more fun than the butterball hotline. Plus, my first piece of advice will be to tell you to open a bottle of champagne and have a glass. You can't cook a turkey if you're all stressed out, can you?

Teriyaki Sauce

My friend Denise tells me that in Japan people use Kikkoman teriyaki sauce. And I nod and say, "Oh really? That's nice." I don't think she has ever tasted my mom's teriyaki sauce. It is the most incredible marinade in the world! You can marinate just about ANYTHING in it. Steaks, chicken, lamb, you name it. It makes that stuff in the bottle taste like watery brine.

Once, when Steve and I still lived in California, his parents were visiting and so we were obligated to either drive all over the Southland visiting their various siblings, nieces, nephews, and cousins, or get it over with in one fell swoop by having them all over to our place for a barbeque. If you have ever navigated the traffic for hours on end in LA, you know I chose to have a barbeque. I bought some huge piece of beef or another and sliced it paper thin. (You can do this by partially freezing the beef, making it pretty simple to slice with a knife.) I put it in a huge vat of some sort and poured the teriyaki over it. Now you may think that buying the bottle is so much easier, but let me assure you, it is just as simple to whip this up. It is THAT easy. And so delicious. If you read the comment from my last post, you'll notice my mom said that flank steak is the best cut to use and I will certainly defer to her experience and wisdom on that point, but I think I used sirloin.

Now Steve is from an enormous Italian family. They are a great bunch, for the most part, like any huge family. But there has been very little non-Italian intermarrying until the last fifteen or twenty years. So they had a different set of food expectations than I had anticipated. I remember some crazy uncle coming in and anouncing, "Oh boy, I get sausage!" Because to Italians, if you're going to have a picnic, and you're going to grill, you're going to grill sausage. Still a young bride, I blanched a bit and swallowed hard and said, "Um, we're having teriyaki." Nobody said much of anything else, and one of Steve's cousins took me aside and told me not to worry about it, Old Uncle So and So would be fine. If this happened today, I would probably look at him and say, "Sorry, you want sausage you better go the deli down the street. We're having steak. And if you don't like it, oh well." Or I'd at least think it while smiling and shooting fireballs out of my eyes.

So I proceeded to thread the steak onto bamboo skewers that I had soaked in water for a while. Steve fired up the grill and started laying them on the grill. He started flipping the first ones he placed as soon as he filled up the grill, these babies only take about two minutes or less. Total. Not per side. You can overcook these into dried out beef jerky really quickly. But it's not that hard to turn out moist, succulent morsels of meat really quickly. You simply must try this recipe. It is that good. Oh, and the Italian relatives raved about it. They had never had anything like it and it was a HUGE hit. Just like it is everytime I make it. Thanks, Mom!


Mom's Teriyaki Sauce

1 C brown sugar
1 C soy sauce
8 T lemon juice
1/4 C vegetable oil
1 tsp ground ginger (this is the only place I don't follow Mom's recipe: I use fresh ginger. I'm sure she doesn't mind!)
1 clove minced garlic

Mix together: For flank steak, slice on bias and marinade for 3 days in a plastic bag

What Will I Ever do About Priscilla?

Picture of Hannah and Priscilla at Starbucks.

I must reiterate to you all that Priscilla is a really good cook. Which is why I get so annoyed when she does stupid things in the kitchen.


A couple of days ago, I was over for a cup of tea (okay wine) and she was starting to make dinner. (I had already made most of my dinner, tacos, and I just had to go home and fry up the taco shells. You don't actually think I would use taco shells from a box, do you? Or salsa from a jar? Do you? How long have been reading this blog?) Prissie was trying to decide whether to cook the filets she had, or some pasta. Did she have any bacon to wrap around the filets, I asked? No. Any great ideas about a quick sauce? No. She thought she might marinate them in teriyaki sauce (one of my mom's recipes) but they could only soak for forty-five minutes. STOP RIGHT THERE, YOU GOOBER! Teriyaki is a great marinade, but it needs at least four hours, preferably longer. So she mixed up the teriyaki and put the steaks in to soak until the next day. Good thinking, Priscilla, glad I could help. (We won't go into why she shouldn't use $9.00 a lb filets for teriyaki. That was a losing battle with her, I assure you. She hates beef and so she must do anything she can to disguise its taste.)

So, she was going to make some pasta. Now, I learned ninety percent of what I know about Chinese cooking from Prissie, but Italian is NOT her forte. She overcooks pasta until it is mush. She mostly uses sauce from a jar. Her pastas come out with some really weird sauces she makes up on the fly. So anyway, she starts throwing pasta in a pot of boiling water and overcooking it. But guess what? She still hasn't decided how to dress the pasta! Here is a tip for Italian cooking: put the water on to boil and start making your sauce. Most pasta sauces can be made in under twenty minutes. Put the pasta in to boil just at the last minute and cook it a minute or two under what it says on the box. It should still be a little firm to the bite. Just tonight I made a sauce with sauteed shallots, porcini mushrooms, sage, and cream. I also added fresh cracked pepper and some of the porcini soaking liquid. I simmered it until the cream had reduced by about half and topped some homemade gnocchi with it and a grating of parmesan. Yummy!

Sorry I have neglected you

Oh Faithful Reader, oh my raison d'etre, how could I have been so callous, so hard-hearted to neglect you for two long weeks? I was freakin busy, that's how. Get over it!

While I was away from my blog I attended a little soiree at my friend Laura's house. It was Halloween and the livin was easy. I whipped up some Sweet and Spicy Popcorn Balls to bring and headed over in time to shove Alex out the door with Laura's husband for some ritualistic pagan candy gathering. Steve was late as usual. Laura had been stressed out about her party for a few days. I tried to calm her. "It's an after trick or treat party", I told her,"You don't have to make dinner; just put out a few munchies!" I gave her a recipe for Chicken Wings Pacifica and told her to put out a few chips. Nobody, I knew, but didn't tell her, would have high expectations.

Well, lo and behold! She pulled off a great party with some RATHER impressive snacks. I especially liked her Apricot -BlueCheese- Honey-Pistachio-Pepper Thingys. There is no recipe, just smear some dried apricots with a good quality blue cheese, sprinkle with salted, roasted, pistachios, drizzle with some honey and finish with a grinding of fresh pepper. They were yummy. And here is photographic proof of her prowess:

BTW, that's my plate.

Too Busy to Blog

I have been too damn busy to blog. I am also too busy to cook, but I have been doing it anyway. I made Thanktober dinner last Saturday for my family since neither my son or daughter will be home for Thanksgiving. It was pretty good, not my best effort. I couldn't get any chestnuts for the stuffing, it was too early. And I overcooked the pumpkin pie for reasons too complicated to explain.

I will leave you with a cool recipe though. This is from my dear, dear friend Diane in California. It is deceptively simple. It is sooooo good. She made it for me once while she and her husband were visiting. We cooked while drinking copious amounts of champagne, my VERY MOST FAVORITIST DRINK IN THE WHOLE WORLD. Course, I drink copious amounts of champagne ever weekend, but Diane is the only one who likes it as much as I do.

Diane's
Balsamic Glazed Scallops

16 Sea Scallops
seasalt, white ground pepper
1/2 c Balsamic vinegar
1 tsp very shap dijon mustard
1/2 tsp tamari or soy sauce
dash cayenne
4 Tbs unsalted butter
1 Tbs chopped chervil

Pat scallops dry and season with salt and pepper In small bow, whisk vinegar, mustard, tamari and cayenne Heat butter in large skillet over medium high heat. Lay scallops in sizzling butter and cook until crusty brown on first side (about 1 to 2 minutes) Turn each scallop over Immediatly pour vinegar mixture over scallops.
Cook 2 to 3 minutes, until just cooked through spoon remaining glaze around scallops and sprinkle with chevril Serve immediatlely.

A blogger's dilemma

Writing this blog has been more fun than I could have imagined, so far at least. I really need to thank Laura for getting me started on it, as well as for being a good sport about me making fun of her cooking.

(Oh, BTW, guess what I caught her doing NOW? Using lemon juice from a bottle. You know, the concentrated, stale, shelf-stable stuff that never goes bad? Can you guess what I think about that? I would never deny myself the pleasure of reaming a lemon up the behind and smelling its fresh scent as I pour it into or onto whatever it is I am cooking. I LOVE lemons. Remember what Martha Stewart said she missed while in prison? Lemons. Not her family. Lemons. Five days a month, I'm sure I would give the same answer, unless I wasn't properly medicated with large amounts of wine and chocolate.)

All that aside, here is my dilemma: my friends are becoming afraid of me. Prissie and Laura are the only ones about whom I can write with impunity. Within the last two weeks, I ran into the same friend three times at the grocery store. I know this friend doesn't like to cook; she has a great career, and she doesn't have time. I don't care if she doesn't cook, I love her. I love having friends that worship my kitchen abilities. It gives me a way to feel slightly superior. (kidding) So I do my best not to look in her cart. But, inevitably, I can't help but seeing what is in her cart. And I don't say ANYTHING. Nothing. No comment. But she goes pale, and says, "My husband really likes this. You can't use his real name." As if I would skewer him for LIKING some disgusting, pre-packaged dinner. Not so. There is no accounting for taste. Okay, I might skewer someone for liking that stuff, but only if I knew them intimately and knew they could take my (sometimes) good-natured ribbing.

And then there is another good friend. I have been friends with her for years. She is a decent cook. She makes some really good things. I have eaten them. She even invented a meal herself that her husband absolutely loves. He asks for it regularly. And the only reason I would make fun of it is because she calls it "fajitas" although it bears no resemblance to fajitas. Whatsoever. But hey, her family likes it, so what the heck? Anyway, I asked her if I could write a description of it and she said, "No!" Next time, I won't ask first.

You guys gotta loosen up. It is all in good fun. At least until you start making fun of my cooking. But then, there's nothing really to make fun of, is there?

Pie Crust

Beautiful fall weather returns and our thoughts turn to pie. Nothing says "get out your woolies, winter is on its way" quite as much as hot pie. Okay, that was way too sappy for me, but you get my drift.

So, I tried to drag the kids out to the apple orchard last Sunday, but no luck. Seems my two youngest have even now outgrown the simple pleasure of plucking apples direct from the tree, biting into its juicy crispness, and eating it right there in the orchard, thus stealing it from the farmer. I guess I'll have to wait for grandchildren to have the fun of seeing the little kids get excited by a wagon ride again. Time to get crackin', Meagan. Oh wait. You're not married yet. Well, the wedding's next summer, so I'm sure it won't be long after that. No pressure though, honey. Anyway, since I couldn't persuade any kids to go with me, Laura went. It wasn't quite the same, since she didn't want to take the wagon ride and we had to HIKE up the hill to the orchard. I hate hiking. But, I showed her, I complained the whole time, so she'll never ask me to go hiking with her again!

Having lugged home twenty pounds of apples, I had no choice but to make pie.I read a recipe for Ginger Apple Pie and was a little intrigued. But of course I didn't follow the recipe. Instead, I made my Super Simple Pie Crust and threw a filling together. For the filling, I peeled and sliced five apples and then tossed them with 1/2 c brown sugar, 1 tsp cinnamon, 3 T cornstarch (I was out of tapioca starch) 1 T lemon juice, 2 T apple cider and two heaping spoonfuls of ginger preserves. Next time I am going to try crystallized ginger instead of ginger preserves.

I actually made two pies and took one of them to a meeting I had to go to. One of the people there was very impressed that I had made my own pie crust. Now ordinarily, I would sneer and say, "Well, of course I made it, what kind of person do you think I am?" but my journey to homemade pie crust has not been easy. I tried and failed many times to make good crust, and once when I used pre-made crusts in desperation, my huisband couldn't tell the difference. So I didn't make pie crust for fifteen years. And then I got sick of paying too much for packaged, and having to go to the store to buy them. I sent my friend this pie crust recipe later that night:

Here is super simple pie crust. I used to use packaged ones, but I read and read many pie crust recipes until I understood what actually needed to happen to have great pie crust. Now, I cannot make a beautiful pie crust to save my soul, one summer I even decided to make a pie every day until I had mastered rolling out crust. Alas, I couldn’t keep up with a pie a day, (putting aside completely my families’ collective waistline) but I did make some progress. Tonight’s crust was not one of my better, and I don’t think I really like the ginger preserves in the pie, but as I said, it was an experiment.

Super Simple pie crust:

2 Cups cold flour (I use pastry flour when I can get it. I store the bag in the freezer so it is ready to go when I am)

1 stick cold butter cut into small pieces

1 tsp vinegar

2-3 T ice water

Put the flour into your food processor, add the butter and process with on/off turns until butter is thoroughly cut in. With processor running, add vinegar and just enough water so that pastry clumps into a ball. You can wrap in plastic and keep for a day or two, or roll out immediately. I use this crust for everything. Most crusts have 2-3 T of sugar added, but I find it unnecessary. I always brush the crust with cream and dust with sanding sugar, which I think adds crispness. My other tip is to use powdered tapioca instead of cornstarch in your filling. It thickens a little better. I hate runny pie!