1966 WDEC - Minnesota - Liver Pudding

Bit of a cheat, because I already made this Woman's Day Encyclopedia of Cookery recipe, before I started this project. The dish shown above is the leftovers of that dinner used as a stuffing for butternut squash.

One of my favorite uses of leftover stews and casseroles is as a stuffing for winter squash. It's easy to do - you halve the squash and oil the cut sides, then roast it cut side down at 375F or so for 30 - 60 minutes depending on the thickness of the squash (this butternut squash went for 45 min at 375F). Warm up the leftovers (I put them, still frozen, in a small covered casserole and they were perfectly reheated when the squash was done) and put them into and around the finished squash.

I also toast the seeds alongside on their own piece of foil for about 20 minutes or until they are popping and then pull them out to use as a garnish. Sometimes I spice the seeds, sometimes I just add a little salt or MSG. In this case I spiced the seeds with cumin, paprika, and some Jamaican pork seasoning, which is what adds the blackness - the seeds themselves are not burned.

The liver pudding held up very well to being frozen and reheated - little if any of the original flavor was lost. Kitchen Goddess Nadja, who I am certain believes there should be feast days devoted to both liver and squash, received her tithe and strongly approved.

1966 WDEC - Minnesota - Pickled Fish

With ten pounds of whitefish in the freezer, I'm happy to be able to use some. And I've always wanted to make my own pickled fish, so this Woman's Day "American Cookery" recipe comes at the right time.

Pickled Fish
(to make 2 lbs fish)
Water
1 tsp salt
1/4 tsp pepper
celery tops
parsley
2 lb small white fish
1 lg onion*
Additional salt and pepper to taste
1 cup vinegar
1 onion, sliced
1 red pepper, cut into strips
1 Tbsp whole pickling spice
*I believe this is a mistake and only one sliced onion is intended

Boil 3 c water; add 1 tsp salt, 1/4 tsp pepper, celery tops, and a few parsley springs. Add fish and, if needed, additional boiling water to cover. Cover and simmer over low heat for 5 min.

Remove fish to covered casserole, discarding liquid. Sprinkle fish with additional salt and pepper to taste. Mix remaining ingredients. Pour over fish. Cover and refrigerate for a day or two, turning fish once or twice. Serves 8 as an appetizer.

Cooking Notes: Nowhere in the instructions is the first onion called for. While it is possible that you are supposed to boil the first onion with the fish, I find it unlikely given the short cooking time and relatively small quantity of water. So I decided it was an error and used only the sliced onion.

I cut the recipe in half but kept the quantity of pickling liquid the same. Even so, the liquid did not come up to cover the fish. I decided this was ok because they do call for you to turn the fish, and over the course of a couple of days the pickling liquid would spread. Picture shows the fish on the left and the pickling material on the right.

I used cider vinegar instead of white, and decided that "red pepper" meant a hot red pepper and not a red bell pepper. Because my whitefish fillets were thin but not small, I cut them into smaller pieces as shown below.

Mixing the sliced onion and pepper in with the vinegar and spice was fine, but of course it was not possible to "pour" sliced onions and peppers over the fish. Instead I layered the fish and onion/pepper mixture and then poured the vinegar and spice over the whole lot.

I pickled the fish for 2 days, turning it midway through. Because I used a casserole too small to easily stir or turn the food, I lifted it gently into another bowl, turned it, and put it back into the casserole.

Eating Notes: The finished product was really good, but it packed a lot more heat than the pickled fish I'm used to. For us, this was a benefit, but people looking for a more traditional taste might want to use less fiery red peppers in the mix. Too late I thought of turning it into a salad with some mixed baby greens. Next time.

1966 WDEC - Minnesota - Rutabaga Ring

Rutabagas seem like a lowly vegetable to make all this fuss over, which was why I couldn't resist.

Rutabaga Ring
(Serves 4 - 6)
3 Tbsp all-purpose flour
2 Tbsp light brown sugar
2-1/2 Tbsp bacon fat
1 cup milk
4 egg yolks, beaten
2 cups mashed rutabagas (yellow turnips; about 2 md)
salt and pepper
5 egg whites, stiffly beaten

Preheat oven to 375F. Generously butter 1-1/2 quart ring mold.

Melt bacon fat. Stir in flour and brown sugar. Gradually stir in milk and cook, stirring, over low heat until thickened and smooth. Remove from heat. Gradually stir hot sauce into egg yolks. Add rutabaga and seasonings. Stir in about 1/4 of the egg whites, then gently fold in the rest. Pour into mold. Picture below shows it ready to go into the oven.

Bake 30 - 35 min. Next picture shows it just after baking.

Remove from oven, cover with a towel and let rest for 5 min. Unmold on a heated serving dish.

Cooking notes: I cut the sugar in half and used san on tou (Japanese brown sugar). Instead of wheat flour, I used gluten-free all purpose flour (mine was a blend of mostly chickpea flour). I was very tempted to add some curry or cayenne, but in the spirit of doing my best to emulate what the Woman's Day editors of the time would have wanted, I held back. Not having a 1-1/2 quart ring mold on hand, I used my standard bundt pan on the theory that it's better to underfill than overfill a mold. Start to finish took about 1 hour and 45 minutes, including baking time, so it was a bit ambitious for a weekday evening, but we still managed to eat at a reasonable time. I could have sped the final process up quite a bit by cooking the rutabagas ahead.

Eating Notes: Phil said this was unlike anything he's had before, and I was hard-pressed to find a comparison. Eggy and light, it was still quite filling. As it turned out, I was glad not to have spiced it up, because aggressive spicing would have completely obliterated the subtle taste of the rutabagas. It would be perfect stand-in for mashed potatoes, or just as a new twist on a root vegetable side dish. I think it also would work well with standard white turnips or with jicama, and may try it with jicama for Thanksgiving dinner.

1966 WDEC - Minnesota - Norwegian Fish Pudding

Let's see. Whitefish, molded dish, something new. No way could I resist this Woman's Day Encyclopedia of Cookery recipe.

Norwegian Fish Pudding
(to serve 4 - 6)
1 lb halibut or other delicate fish
3 egg whites
1 c heavy cream or undiluted evaporated milk
1 tsp salt
1/2 tsp white pepper
Cayenne, ground nutmeg, and celery salt to taste
Few drops of onion juice

Put fish through a food processor or blender until almost smooth. Put fish in a bowl set in a pan of ice water. Slowly stir in egg whites, beating with a wire whisk to keep the mixture smooth. Stir in cream very slowly. Add salt and pepper. Season to taste with cayenne, ground nutmeg, and celery salt. Add onion juice. Let stand 1 hour. Picture below shows it after stirring the egg whites in. It is thick but not frozen or anything.

Preheat oven to 350F. Pour mixture into a well-greased 1-1/2 quart mold or individual timbale molds as shown above. Set in a pan of hot water 1" deep. Cover with foil. Bake until firm. Picture shows it just out of the oven.

Cooking Notes: I made only minor changes to the recipe. Changes included cutting the salt in half, using celery seed instead of celery salt, and dusting the finished affair with a bit of paprika. I also used some of my Lake Superior Whitefish from Walleye Direct instead of halibut. Since halibut, an ocean fish, is not exactly a Minnesota traditional food, I don't apologize for that substitution. My mold baked 40 minutes. It was perfectly set and came out of the mold with no fuss at all.

Eating Notes: Surprisingly nuanced and complex. The cayenne/nutmeg/celery seed combination gave it a bit of a punch and made it the kind of dish that you have to really think about to pick out the ingredients, but once they've been identified you can find them right away. Definitely a keeper. Kitchen goddess Nadja, who was tithed the food processor bowl, approved and closely supervised the posting of this entry.

There is Still a Woman's Day

I got a very nice email the other day from a member of the Digital Outreach Team for WomansDay.com. You could have knocked me over with a feather. I had no idea Woman's Day was still around, but they're hanging in, offering the traditional mix of food, home, family, relationships, etc. that have been the hallmark of such magazines for a hundred years. They've kept up by adding things like an iPhone cooking assistant app and community pages for comments and ideas.

The team member pointed me to several Thanksgiving ideas - they have hundreds at the site - and I checked a few of the food ones out. Recipes are solidly within the canon of traditional American feasts and are definitely not intended for paleo or low-carb food fans. They also call for low-fat, non-fat and "light" ingredients far too often for my taste. That said, the site gives decent and useful advice. Examples for this holiday week include a menu and timetable for getting a Thanksgiving dinner for 12 on the table with minimal headaches and a set of Thanksgiving menus that likely would satisfy most families. The Sweet Potato Pear Gratin (which calls for butter and not margarine) from the "Gourmet" feast looks pretty interesting, and I may give it a try.

In sum, while I have to pick and choose my way around the site, if the editors of my 1966 Woman's Day Encyclopedia of Cookery were to meet the people running the WomansDay.com website, I think they'd feel right at home.

Vinegared Red Cabbage with Sausage

The day one returns from a vacation, at least for me, is not a day for ambitious cooking. Thus, a nice cabbage dish of my own making, incorporating Mechazawa-san (the big Egg) sausages.

Courtney's Vinegared Red Cabbage with Sausage

(to serve 4 generously)

1 md head red cabbage

1/2 cup cider vinegar (approximate)

1/2 tsp anise seed

1 tsp Worcestershire sauce (Lee & Perrins type)

1 tsp san on tou (Japanese brown sugar) or light brown sugar

(few drops juniper extract)

6 mixed sausages (I used 3 chorizo and 3 bratwurst)

Grill the sausages.

While the grill is heating and the sausages are cooking, core the cabbage and cut into large pieces about 1" x 2" or so. Combine the vinegar, anise seed, Worcestershire, sugar, and extract if desired in the bottom of a large saucepan. It should cover the bottom with a depth of 1/8" or so. Don't worry if it's a bit deeper; add some more vinegar if it's a bit shy. Add the cabbage. Cover and cook over low-medium heat until the cabbage is mostly wilted, about 10 - 15 minutes. Stir to combine the juices. Cook another five minutes or so, until well wilted.

Take the cooked sausages, slice them approximately 1/2" thick, and stir them into the cabbage. Serve hot. Saves and reheats well.

Cooking Notes: You could just as easily omit the sausage and make this a side dish or vegetarian entree. Also, it keeps warm on the stove really well, so is forgiving if you have to make it a bit ahead and then wait for people to be ready for dinner.

Eating Notes: Nice, easy comfort food with enough of a tang to it not to make you feel bloated. Having two very different sausages added dimension, as did separately grilling the meat so that it brought in the outside tastes of carbon and fall.

CSA Report Week 26

Lane was kind enough to pick up the CSA this week while, so while it was a little late, it's in good shape and saves me a trip to the grocery. In the Spiral Path box: red beets; sweet potatoes; kale; lettuce mix; small head of red lettuce; broccoli; amazing bunch of beets; acorn squash. With a butternut and another acorn already on hand from weeks past, I am almost overrun in squash and must eat them.

1966 WDEC - Minnesota

The next state in the "American Cookery" entry of the Woman's Day Encyclopedia of Cookery is Minnesota, "where the loons cry." Picture of Temperance River State Park from the Visit Minnesota Website. The recipes reflect the Scandinavian heritage of the state:

Pickled Fish: Whitefish pickled for a couple of days. I love pickled fish and have never made them myself, so I'll try it.
Norwegian Fish Pudding: More whitefish, mixed with egg whites and cream and baked in a mold. Sounds really interesting.
Liver Pudding: I've already made this and still have some frozen leftovers, so I'll pass.
Wild Rice Casserole: Casserole of onion, pepper, rice, almonds and chicken broth. It's a standard dish I've made before so I'll probably pass on this one, too.
Rutabaga Ring: Baked mold of rutabagas. I cannot resist.
Swedish Rye Bread: Looks like a nice rye bread recipe, but I have made rye bread before. If I weren't reducing my gluten intake, I'd try it, but as it is I won't.
Prune Kolache: Yeast-raised cookies with prune filling. I have never made yeast-raised cookies, so may use this as my gluten allotment.
Bishop Whipple Pudding: Named for Minnesota Bishop Henry Benjamin Whipple, an otherwise unremarkable baked nut and date pudding with a brown sugar sauce. I'll pass.

So. Back from vacation and off to the kitchen!

Croaker and Caviar

Planned to be blogging a couple of high-class dinners out from my vacation. Instead, emergency nirvana. Fresh croaker from the Rehoboth Giant, pan-fried in butter and spiced with Italian herbs, served with caviar and steamed broccoli with butter. Inside, a book to read, a fire in the fireplace and the sound of the rain.Outside, the weather bold and gray.

Off Topic, On Vacation

So. My vacation. Apologies for it being long and off-topic, but it was amazing. Picture above shows the view from our loft window on Thursday. Yes, those are breakers in the background.

Being at the ocean makes me feel insignificantly wonderful. We’ve lived within a 2-½ hour drive of the ocean for 13 years, and this is the first time we’ve had the time to get there - “there” in this case being Delaware Seashore State Park, encompassing a barrier beach with an inlet into Rehoboth bay and featuring self-catering bayside “cottages” that are more like vacation condos.

It’s November, so I was looking forward to no crowds and no traffic. What I didn’t anticipate was the remnants of Hurricane/Tropical Storm Ida mixed with a Nor‘easter. Wow. We got here Wednesday afternoon and after a bit of concern checking in (the office was closed for the Veterans’ Day holiday and it was a while before we figured out how we were supposed to get in to our cottage) took an excursion to the ocean side of the barrier beach.

The storm was still on its way, not anywhere near where it would be by tonight (with tonight into tomorrow expected to be the high point). I parked the car in the empty access lot and we walked over the dune to the ocean. The waves were incredible for Delaware - dark, foamy gray-green breaker on breaker stretching out and out. My coat was torn open and I just stood there, gripping it close and hoping I wouldn’t lose my keys. Old receipts and bits of paper were ripped from Phil’s pockets. My face was sandblasted and I worried about my glasses. We were very glad the camera and binoculars were left in the car. I had wanted a walk, but we both agreed it was out of the question, and after a long look around we headed back to the car, sandy, a bit wet, and grinning. I made a warm goat stew when we were back at the cottage and it was perfect with the weather.

I expected the brunt of the storm would blow over by this morning,  So we listened to it howl against the loft ceiling in our bayside cottage and felt cozy and warm all night. I was still grinning when I woke up, and the wind was still blowing. If anything, it was stronger. checked the weather (no Internet but I can surf in a 2” by 3” kind of way on my phone) and learned the real weather wouldn’t be coming through until late tonight.

We decided to travel while we could, took an excursion to Lewes and did a bit of shopping to get Phil better situated for a rainy walk. Seven dollars at the thrift store bought him a storm-proof hooded jacket and a pair of ankle-high overboots. We had lunch and a bit of a stroll around Lewes. Rehoboth, more strolling, and a nice dinner out was the original plan, but we were both feeling vacation-like and wanted to do absolutely nothing but sit in our cottage and look at the incredible weather, so we headed back, planning to get some fish for dinner back at the marina.

Unfortunately, the Delaware Seashore Marina bait and tackle, which sells fresh fish, was already closed because of the weather. I had a steak in the fridge, but we were (and remain) concerned that we would not be able to get out at all on Friday if they closed Route 1. With the steak gone tonight, we’d be limited to a cabbage and an acorn squash on Friday. Either is great when it’s what you want, but not so good when it’s your only choice. So it was back out on the highway.




It was now pushing 2:00, but as dark as early evening. The weather was steadily worsening; the tide was coming up. Sheets of sideways rain billowed across the road, and where there was no vegetation barrier, the beach was doing the same, sandblasting the car as we drove across the drifts. We decided to stop at the very first grocery we saw, get some fish, and get right back to the cottage.

The grocery was the Giant; the only wild-caught fresh fish available was croaker. Fine. Split it, give me the head, and we’ll be on our way. A half hour after our northbound passage we were back at the sandblasting dunes. The sand spillage now completely covered both the northbound (Oceanside) and southbound (Bayside) lanes of the highway. The water was higher, but not yet at the level of the road.

We unpacked the groceries, and I just had to have a walk. Suited up like potatoes we ventured out for a great excursion - about 100 meters up and down the bay directly at the back of our cottage. Picture above shows it but doesn't do it justice. The inlet should be smooth. Instead, the bay was the same wonderful muddy gray-green as the ocean. The wind came at us in wonderful distinct blows, slamming our backs and then rushing around so that we could see the same gust as it grazed the bay, picked up the water, and blew it into whitecaps. We walked until we came upon four or five flocks of birds grouped in the marina parking lot and margins. Not wanting to startle them into trying to fly, we turned back at that point. Ten minutes, maximum, outside, but enough to be dripping wet and grinning from ear to ear all over again.

As I write this it’s almost 7 p.m. A couple of hours ago the night watchman came by to let us know not to leave - Route 1 was closed about an hour after we got back and if we do manage to make it out, we won’t be able to get back in. Good thing we decided not to have that dinner in Rehoboth.

The flood advisory is in effect until tomorrow at 11 p.m. so maybe we can get out tomorrow, maybe we can’t. By Saturday things should be passable. The wind is ever-present; rain needles the roof and walls. We have storm gear. We have a dry and happy place to sleep. We have two good books to read. We have a steak in reserve for tomorrow night. And our kitchen fronts on a white-capped bay.  I believe I have won a lottery without buying a ticket.

Friday Morning Update: From our loft we can see where the emergency vehicles are blocking the road and pushing sand around with bulldozers. We also can see across the corner of the bay and over the dunes, where the breakers are crashing on the dunes. The wind has dies down enough for us to light the fire, and the bay is quite steel gray, undulating impressively but without the whitecaps of yesterday evening. We’re riding out the back side of the storm, our vacation enforced by state police keeping us from venturing more than walking distance from the snug cottage. The wind has dropped enough that birds are flying, and we’ll go out for that walk soon.

Friday Evening Update: Took two walks and read a book by the fire today. For its part, the wind picked up a bit. First walk was on the bay side, at about low tide. Crossed a small walkway that definitely will be underwater at high tide, hoping to access the nature trail on the other side. The trail, though, was no more than a wide trench of water. “Trail closed beyond this point,” read the helpful sign.

In the afternoon, we ventured out again a couple of hours before high tide. This time we took the road toward the ocean. Some of our fellow captives pointed us to a walkway/trail that would take us under the inlet bridge and to the ocean side of the beach. So we went.

Even on the bay and along the inlet the waves were crashing over the cement of the walkway and onto the small strip of sand behind it. At a couple of points we had to pick our way across areas too deep for our boots. It was a little scary, with the wind wanting to blow you toward the water, but mostly it was fun. And then we got to the ocean. I’m a verbal person but it’s really hard to describe. The surf was pounding -- wild,  majestic and exuberant. Great gobs of sea foam, like stage set Styrofoam rocks, blew around frantically. When one hit smack in the face, the taste of sand and sea and wind was a tonic.

We stayed and watched as long as we could and then turned back and headed toward the road. Bulldozers were plowing sand back into a makeshift dune/barrier. From the patterns on the access road, it looked like the water had made it over to where we were during the last high tide. By now we were pretty wet and buffeted about, and we headed back to the fire.

Just after sunset one of the rangers stopped by to make sure we had food and to let us know we’re likely not getting out tomorrow, either. It seems the dunes did breach last night, and the road is a mess. The ranger said he had just come from the vulnerable spot and it looked like there would be another breach at this high tide, and probably a third at the next tomorrow morning. They are hoping that will be the last, but the storm is hanging on.

Apparently, there hasn’t been this level of damage and breaching for more than a decade, and it’s very unusual for this time of year. We’re safe where we are, but they have evacuated the small strip of expensive second homes across the inlet from us. He’s asked DelDOT to let us back if we need to go out for food tomorrow. So that’s the situation for tonight. And they just keep extending the coastal flood advisory.

Me? I’m happy as a clam, going back to my latte and my book.

Final update:  Saturday was incredible. It was nice enough to take a walk, and the park and the road were still closed. So we walked a couple miles along the beach, watching the waves, and running into exactly one other person. Once we left her and her metal detector behind, it was just the sand and the water an ourselves. Coming back we took the road, two miles along the Coastal Highway, and saw exactly three cars.

The intrepid staff at the Marina had managed to make it in. Cottage guests were being allowed to come in if they could show a reservation receipt, but she warned us the water would be too deep for us to go out in a car. I’d seen the Matrix from Cabin 5 on the road earlier, though, and thought it might be fine, especially as we were at low tide right then. We ran into one of the rangers and he confirmed that yes, with the tide down the roads were mostly dry; if we could be back by 4 or 5 we should be fine.

We used the window to take an excursion to downtown Rehoboth Beach and pick up a couple of new books to read and some foodstuffs. I just didn’t feel like cooking. Again, luck was on our side - a true New Jersey Italian salumeria opened just a month ago. The place was crowded for good reason. We laid in some olives, cheese, prosciutto and mortadella, got back into the car and headed home. The DelDOT and police checkpoint staff remembered me and didn’t even ask to see the reservation, they just smiled and waved us through. Two firsts: being waved through a police checkpoint, and driving the wrong way down a divided highway. We saw nobody else but staff on our way back to the cottages.

This morning the road and park were still closed, so we were able to take our time leaving the cottage and ignore the 10:00 checkout rule, since nobody was coming in. Leisurely breakfast, a final walk on the beach, and we cleaned up and got out, stopping to say goodbye at the office. “These are the people who like excitement!” enthused the woman at the desk to a colleague. If having an entire seaside park basically to yourself for several days is excitement, then I guess she’s right.

And now I’m back to my own kitchen, with the Kitchen Gods on my lap making it difficult to blog, and getting back to the routine with a clear mind and salty hair.