"My Mother's Secret Recipe File - More than 125 Treasured Recipes From The Mothers Of Our Great Chefs - Sweet 'n' Smoky Chicken - Mother's Day 2017

Date I made this recipe:  May 14, 2017 – Mother's Day

Mom's Secret Recipe File – More than 125 Treasured Recipes from the Mothers of Our Great Chefs, edited by Chris Styler ("A portion of the proceeds from the sale of this book is being donated to the Women's Commission for Refugee Women and Children")

Published by Hyperion

ISBN:  1-4013-+0754-X; © 2004

Recipe:  Sweet 'n' Smoky Chicken – p. 207 (submitted by chicken magnate, Jim Perdue)

Ann's Note:  I had another recipe on deck for Mother's Day, a Caramel Cake from the cookbook/essay  In My Mother's Kitchen.  Alas, while on my third attempt to make caramel for the caramel sauce, I burned my left hand something fierce and one week later, have not been back in the kitchen at all.  Since I am still in pain (burn is infected), I shall turn my back on the recipe but will talk about the book at the end of the blog.

All right then, this Mother's Day, I had a couple of options in front of me and so finally decided upon the chicken recipe that was really good and a caramel cake that sounded good but is still unmade because of my kitchen accident.  I must say, this will forever be a memorable Mother's Day for me for all the wrong reasons!

Let's focus on the positive and talk about the cookbook Mom's Secret Recipe File.  There is a lot to like in this cookbook and I was challenged to select just one recipe.  Thirty three "celebrity" chefs submitted recipes for this endeavor to aid the Women's Commission for Refugee Women and Children (how apt for Mother's Day), and they include:  Lidia Matticchio Bastianich; Jaques Pepin; Marcus Samuellson; Anthony Bourdain and Nieglla Lawson.  What the Table of Contents didn't include, and which irked, was a list of recipes submitted by all these glorious personnel.  I hate that.  It's a small thing, but would it have killed someone – anyone – to put a name and then some bullet-point mentions of the recipes at the front of the book?  Rhetorical question, no need to answer!

Here were some of the recipes up for consideration:

• The Perfect Chocolate Dessert – p. 24-25 from Barbara Kafka
• Spinach and Sun-dried Tomato Strata – p. 67-68 from (editor) Chris Styler
• Spoon Bread with Smithfield Ham and Cheddar Cheese – p. 122 from Chris Schlessinger
• Mushroom-Barley Soup – p. 177 from Mollie Katzen
• Poppy Seed Cake with Lemon Glaze – p. 251-252 from Susan Feniger

 Don't these all sound delicious?  Seeing as how I had just cooked from Moosewood Cookbook by Mollie Katzen for Earth Day, I eliminated that recipe.  I would have loved to have made the "Poppy Seed Cake with Lemon Glaze "recipe as that was my wedding cake, but this was Mother's Day not Ann and Anniversary's Day (May 18^th) so that was out.

So there I was debating about the merits of one of these over the others when I looked through the book again and well, the answer was so obvious to me that I can't even believe I overlooked it the first time:  Sweet 'N' Smoky Chicken.

The backstory:  When my mom turned 80, I made her a homemade birthday card (mini scrapbook) of things that made me think of her and one section was called something like "Jobs my mother could have had."  Included in that was the job of an FDA meat inspector because my mother's fear of germs, especially salmonella from chicken, made her scrub the crap out her kitchen lest we all fall victim to such a terrible illness.  In no way, shape, or form, was my mother going to be responsible for her children's food illnesses, no sir!

And this is why if you came over to our house when she made chicken, you'd see her scrubbing away on her cutting board (a wooden cutting board no less) with Comet cleaner afterwards, followed by a ton of dish soap and hot water until she was assured that whatever might be lurking or fixin' to lurk was dead and gone.  I used to tease her about it to no end until I started cooking and lets just say the apple does not fall from the tree.

Given her rigorous efforts to ensure nothing wicked this way came during prep, it should come as no surprise to learn that if raw chicken was the enemy, undercooked chicken was kitchen Armageddon!  If she cooked the chicken, it sometimes bordered on overdone, something that irked my father to no end.  Dad was a wildlife research biologist and a very practical scientist, whose efforts to try to persuade my mom that "It's fine," failed and failed miserably as did "Some gut bacteria is good." 

When my father cooked the chicken, which he did on a tiny Hibachi grill using his own (and fabulous) BBQ sauce, my mother was all over him with her nagging:  "Are you sure it's cooked?  Well did you check?  Well check it again?"  (Note:  This was often before microwaves saved the day.)

Finally my dad had enough and so he wrote on a Post-it that remained on the refrigerator until the day they both died, "Don't overcook the chicken!" 

And this is how this phrase became the running joke in our household.  Let me just say that it didn't end there though as she moved on to steak and hamburger.  My dad (and I) love a rare steak and I mean rare and I also appreciate a rare burger which really, if you think about it, it steak tartare with a little char.  My mother, fearing total contamination, made my father broil her steak or burger to medium if not medium well and wow, that was a source of contention!

"Ah, come on, honey, you're ruining the meat!," dad would bellow.  "I am not."  "It'll be fine, you won't die."  "Well, I might!" (You should know that whereas my dad often sounded like Star Wars character, Chewbacca when he bellowed, my mother had the daintiest of voices sort of like Minnie Mouse, making the whole exchange even funnier.)

And on and on and on they went but it was adorable.  I am happy to report that my dad usually got his way when it came to his steak (a beautiful sirloin that my mom would "special order" – on sale, always on sale – from the butcher) but had to give it all up when it came to the chicken which is as it should be.

This chicken recipe was delicious, but what really sold the deal was the very last instruction to use a meat thermometer to check the temperature (180°F in the thickest part of the thigh) which was bloody brilliant even though today's chefs and home cooks say "Of course."  Back in the day when my family's chicken-cooking efforts were at an all-time high (60's and 70's), nobody thought to use a meat thermometer and we sure didn't have the internet to fill us on advisable temperatures nor a microwave to cook it further, so it was pretty much eyeball the sucker and hope for the best!

The other day I talked to my brother about the hilarity of all this and we both marveled that nobody in my family ever got sick from undercooked steak or chicken.  Not once because really, with my mother, would the germs even dare?  Nope! 

Here then, is a very good chicken recipe that was "perfectly cooked" and would no doubt have made my mom (and dad) happy this Mother's Day!

Sweet 'n' Smoky Chicken – makes 4 servings

1 large onion, sliced

1 whole Perdue fresh young chicken (about 4 pounds), cut into serving pieces, or 4 pounds of your preferred chicken part (Ann's Note:  I used two chicken breasts for half this recipe.)

2 teaspoons hickory-smoked salt (Ann's Note:  you can make this at home by mixing liquid smoke with sea salt and then letting it dry.  I used 1 teaspoon of sea salt and then a few drops of liquid smoke.)

¼ teaspoon pepper

½ cup ketchup

½ cup maple syrup

¼ cup red wine vinegar

2 tablespoons prepared mustard

Preheat the oven to 350°F.

Scatter the onion slices over the bottom of a shallow baking pan.  Place the chicken in a single layer, skin side up, on top of the onion.  Sprinkle with the salt and pepper.  Stir the ketchup, maple syrup, vinegar, and mustard together in a small bowl and pour over chicken.  Bake, uncovered, until a meat thermometer inserted in the thickest part of the thigh registers 180°F.  (Ann's note:  if you are using chicken breasts, insert the thermometer in the thickest part of the breast.)

And now a word about the book I didn't use and the recipe I didn't make.  In My Mother's Kitchen is an essay with recipes.  The book's subtitle is "Writers on Love, Cooking, and Family," and while the essays were great, the recipes were scarce.  I  counted 12 but I'm not sure it's correct as there is no way to cross check; neither the Table of Contents or the Index listed the recipe names.

I had been wanting to make a caramel cake for some time and thought it would go well with the chicken.  In theory, this is correct, in practice, this is now a cake that I will never bake because of my burn.  And not that I want to lecture you on kitchen safety, but one week after the incident, my hand still hurts like hell.  It was such a stupid – nearly comical – event but one with lasting ramifications!  So if you decided you want to attempt caramel for this cake at home, please be careful out there.

Should you want to see the recipe for yourself, here's the information:

In My Mother's Kitchen – Writers on Love, Cooking, and Family – With contributions from Ruth Reichel, M F. K. Fisher, Maya Angelou, Julie Sahni, Joyce White, and Nigel Slater.

Published by Chamberlain Brothers

ISBN: 1-59609-209-2; © 2006

Recipe (that I didn't make):  Maya Angelou's Caramel Cake – p. 22-23, included in her essay titled "The Assurance of Caramel Cake."

Alternatively, it's also included in Hallelujah! The Welcome Table by Maya Angelou.  I have not cooked from her book(s) yet (I have two) although they are always " on my list."

"No Time for Cooking" by Arlene Francis - Sweet and Sour Skillet - for Mother's Day (with a word or "two" about game shows)

Date I made this recipe:  May 8, 2016 – Mother's Day

No Time For Cooking by Arlene Francis

Published by:  Danfoods Co.

© 1961

Recipe:  Sweet and Sour Skillet – p. 29

And so Mother's Day.  This is one of those "holidays" that leaves me overwhelmed because I could go in so many different directions with my cookbook collection in order to honor my mother that I almost have a complete brain shutdown.  Sadly, very few cookbooks are titled something like "Mother's Day Cookbooks" because that would be too easy, right?

That said, I thought I had a cookbook picked out but then changed my mind after watching late night/early morning episodes of the (vintage) TV show, What's My Line, on BUZZR cable station.  And this explanation will be long so get yourself a beverage and get cozy.

BUZZR is one of those stations that I swear just appeared overnight on my cable lineup and it's all about game shows (thus, "BUZZ[E]R") that ran from the mid-50's (shortly after television started become a household item) to the late 80's.

Included in the lineup of shows are three vintage shows that I watched as a kid:  To Tell the Truth, What's My Line and I've Got a Secret.  Mind you, the episodes I'm currently watching are mostly from before I was born but no matter.  I tuned in from an early age and was fascinated even then. 

Actress Arlene Francis, the author featured here today, was one of four celebrity panelists on What's My Line and I think she holds the record for length of appearances – 25 years.  Wow!  I had no idea.

The premise of What's My Line (CBS -1950-1967), as well as To Tell The Truth (1956-1968 on CBS, 1968-1975 in syndication) and I've Got a Secret (CBS -1952-1967), is simple:  a single guest or a panel of guests (2 fake, 1 real) appear before a panel of four celebrities (celebrities at the time the show aired) and the panel has to decide a) who is telling the truth (To Tell the Truth); what someone's occupation is (What's My Line) or what someone's secret is (I've Got a Secret).  The ones who fake out the panel get money. 

The shows are all hosted by celebrity hosts (again, of the era), are all produced by venerable game show producers, Mark Goodson and Bill Todman.  And because they all ran on CBS and because CBS was the only channel we got for a long, long time (in black and white, no less), we watched these shows.

And since these shows were early evening entertainment, the panelists as well as the guests usually dressed to kill.  The women wore beautiful evening dresses (although some might have worn evening gowns) with beautiful jewelry and the men wore suits, often with bow ties that were all the rage. But it was really the women I wanted to see and who I remembered, especially Kitty Carlisle who appeared on To Tell the Truth.

Now, Arlene Francis (today's cookbook author) was quite beautiful yet the person who sticks in my mind as the embodiment of poise and elegance was Kitty Carlisle. She wore the most beautiful gowns, the most beautiful jewelry, never had a hair out of place and spoke so eloquently that it was hard not to fall is line with her. Kitty Carlisle was an actress, singer and a major patron of the arts in NYC.  I believe she was photographed at one of the New York Public Library fund raisers that I discussed in a blog a few weeks ago.  Kitty was married to playwright and theater director, Moss Hart and for some reason, I keep mixing him up with composer Lorenzo Hart of Rodgers and Hart fame (before Rodgers became Rodgers and Hammerstein). I shall have to work on that.  No doubt if Kitty was alive, she'd set me straight; she passed away in 2007.

If Kitty Carlisle commanded center stage on To Tell The Truth, then Arlene Francis did the same on What's My Line.  On that show, whenever they had a mystery guest (i.e. someone famous and recognizable), the panelists had to put on blindfolds and Arlene's was always so fancy in satin and sequins.  Loved that. 

And since we are walking down memory lane, I hope you indulge me a minute as I have to talk about these three shows:

On To Tell the Truth, three people walked onto the stage and then the announcer said "WHAT Is your name please?"  The force with which he said "What" just slays me.  And so all three said "My name is [fill in the blank].  Then the host, in this case Bud Collyer, asked the four celebrity panelists to read along with an affidavit in which the "real" person said what he or she did.  Then the three guests were asked questions by the panel, said questions designed to trip up the fakers by drilling deep into the topic.  Then the panel voted for who they thought was telling the truth, and then the announcer said "Will the REAL [insert name] please stand up?" and the person did and if the panel got all or some votes wrong, the guests got money as well as "lovely" gifts from the sponsor—things like nasal decongestants and deodorants, I kid you not!

Although many guest panelists appeared on the show, the ones I remember the most (and am watching now) were Tom Poston, Peggy Cass, Don Ameche, and Kitty Carlisle.  A very young Johnny Carson sat in on the panel a few times as did the ageless Betty White.

One interesting note about this show that ties to this blog:  last week, I was watching an episode and after the real person was revealed, the other two stated their names and what they really do for a living and one of them said "My name is Bunny Day and I'm a cookbook writer" and folks, I almost fell out of my chair.  Bunny Day?  THE Bunny Day? (Do we not love that name?)  Oh my gosh, I have two of her cookbooks and cooked from one of them – Crazy-Quilt Cookery – for this blog.  Wow!  I tell you what, I was impressed with myself that I knew who she was!

On What's My Line, the guest has an interesting line of work, ranging from nuclear physicist to female bull fighter to this hilarious one:  sells glasses to chickens (don't ask) and the panel of four has to guess what that line of work is. Each guest is asked to sign in on a chalk board, then the host reads the name, and then the guest is asked to shake hands with the panel so that they can "get a better look at you" which always stops me short because these are humans, not horses!  But anyway...

Sometimes a famous celebrity appears on the show in which case, they are introduced as a "mystery" guest and the panel has to put on blindfolds.  As I mentioned above, Arlene Francis and fellow panelist, Dorothy Kilgallen, have the most lovely blindfolds; the men stick to basic black eye shades.

Most of the "mystery" guests disguise their voices so the panel won't guess who they are but that usually fails and Arlene is often the one to figure it out.  In one instance, the mystery guest was Wilt Chamberlain and the panel guessed who he was right away, likely because the disguised voice was coming from so high up!  The mystery guest is usually someone who is currently starring in a TV show, movie or on Broadway and the panel often keys questions to ascertain who they are – "Are currently in a movie?"  "Have you just arrived in New York?" and the like.  For the regular Joe Schmoes of the world, questions usually start with "Do you work outdoors?"  "Is a product involved in what you do?," or "Do you provide a service?"  The panel often has a harder time figuring the person's line of work just because it's hard to narrow things down in the allotted time. (And in the case of guy who sold glasses for chickens, the panel finally figured out it had to do with chickens but likely never would have figured out the eyeglass part.  I know I wouldn't!)

The "regular" panelists on the episodes I've watched so far are Dorothy Kigallen, Fred Allen, Arlene Francis and Bennett Cerf.  The show's host was John Daly.

And then on I've Got a Secret, the guest(s) do indeed have a secret that they whisper to the host and the panel also has to guess at what the secret is. On this show though, celebrities often appear as themselves and then share a secret about themselves to the show's host (Garry Moore, who also helped give actress Carol Burnett her start when she appeared on The Garry Moore Show.)  On one recent episode, actress Kim Novak appeared and her secret was that she designed the dress that panelist Bess Meyerson was wearing.  Backstage before the show began though, Bess told Kim that she hated the dress, not knowing that Kim designed it.  Apparently, it was quite itchy.  Talk about your awkward moment!

And speaking of awkward, the thing I constantly have to keep in mind about these shows is that the panelists often said things we would now consider to be politically incorrect, such as jokes about ethnic groups or even comments about women.  Sometimes the show hits its own "awkward pause" moment and sometimes I create one by gasping at the comment.

The panelists I've seen so far on I've Got A Secret have been Bill Cullen (who later went on to host other game shows), Betsy Palmer, Henry Morgan (not to be confused with M*A*S*H star, Harry Morgan) and Bess Meyerson.  Bess was also Miss  America 1945 and was the first and only Jewish woman so far to win that title.

Now then, you're probably thinking what does any of this have to do with Mother's Day, my mother in particular, or Arlene Francis?  Well kids, my mother loved watching these shows.  I loved watching these shows with my mother, ergo my walk down memory lane.  But these shows also make me reminisce about my mom's sense of style and how she always dressed to impress.  And when I see all these women wearing beautiful evening dresses, I think of her and it makes me miss her and also long for the day when people dressed up.  Yes, jeans and t-shirts are comfy, no doubt about it, but when people dressed up, it just changed the game.  They walked more elegantly, talked more elegantly and looked like a million bucks.  When mom died, I took a lot of her favorite dresses and eveningwear plus some jewelry to few vintage stores so that they could be worn by someone who could appreciate them.  Sadly, I was a couple inches taller than my mom so nothing of hers fit me.  Happily, I kept some of her vintage jewelry and evening bags though and wear them if the occasion fits.

And so just before Mother's Day, I was watching these shows which air early in the morning, one behind the other, and there was Arlene Francis and I remembered that I had a cookbook by her on my shelf.

So asking myself WWML (What Would Mother Like), I perused the cookbook and after much hemming and hawing, decided on tonight's Sweet and Sour Skillet. I'd have to look but I swear I saw a similar recipe in my mom's handwriting on a recipe card in the  card collection I now own.  Mind you, I have no recollection of her actually making it, but details, details.

Aside from the fact that this recipe was easy to make, it was also somewhat healthy; I can't say that about a lot of other dishes in this cookbook.  It's not that they were loaded with calorie-laden ingredients, it's just that my mom leaned toward leaner recipes.  In fact, I know she would not have made this recipe with salami as called for so I substituted ham.

One dish that I almost made was called "Sunday Cassoulet," a fancy name for baked beans with hot dogs but that just felt too heavy even though mom sometimes made a similar dish. And a "Date Drop Cookies" recipe that sounded similar to mom's was bounced because dates are very expensive. Very.  Sorry, mom!

Two dishes that I could have made had I stopped laughing in time for dinner were "Hurry Curry" and "Delicious Quickie" which, of course, is not what you think but rather a mixture of cream of mushroom soup, diced lunch meat, onions and olives over biscuits.  Don't think so.  And I also passed on "Savory Tongue on Toast" because mother would have as well.  Ew.

The last section of this book – "Arlene's Diet Tips" – made me chuckle because my mother also had a diet tip and it was pretty simple:  "Just push yourself away from the dinner table, Ann."  She wasn't kidding and you know what?  It worked!

In the end, Andy and I were quite happy with the dish (which I served over rice) and I think mom would have been happy as well.  And that's what Mother's  Day is all about, right – making mom happy?  In my family, we also had another rule – "Don't Embarrass Mother" but that's another story for another day.

This dish is no embarrassment to anybody so go ahead and make it and if you get the chance, check out these vintage game shows.  I now dream of evening dresses and glittery jewelry...

Sweet and Sour Skillet – Serves 4

2 tablespoons butter or cooking oil

1 medium onion, chopped

½ cup green pepper

1 teaspoon cornstarch

2 tablespoons vinegar

1 9-ounce can pineapple tidbits, undrained

1 teaspoon soy sauce

1 6-ounce package sliced salami, diced (Ann's Note:  I substituted diced ham)

Salt and pepper to taste

Cooked rice, if you wish

In a large skillet melt butter or oil.  Add onion and green pepper and sauté for 5 minutes.  Blend cornstarch and vinegar and stir into vegetables.  Add pineapple tidbits (and juice), soy sauce, salami (or ham) and salt and pepper.  Bring to a boil, stirring, and simmer for 5 minutes.

Ann's Note:  I served this over rice.

"Cook As I Say, Not As I Do" - Mother's Day Pizza Margherita

Date I made this recipe:  May 10, 2015 – Mother's Day

Cook As I Say, Not As I Do by Margaret Sullivan

Published by:  Chicago Press Review

ISBN: 1-55652-224-X

Purchased at Arc's Value Village Thrift Stores

Recipe:  "Pizza I Would Name After You If I Didn't Think It Already Had A Name" – p. 87 a/k/a "Pizza Margherita," made using "An All-Purpose Pizza Dough for Mother's Day" – p. 85

I seem to be on a roll of finding cookbooks oriented toward younger and budding chefs but this one especially seemed appropriate for Mother's Day.  I mean, the title – Cook As I Say, Not As I Do - says it all, does it not?  (For the record, my mother was one of those women who did not do what she wasn't supposed to do but alas, I cannot say I was like her in that respect.)

Like a lot of people, I posted a couple pictures of my mom on Facebook that day, one of which was me "photo-bombing" my mother when she was making something in the kitchen of a house we rented when I was very young ( we called it "The Little House" – NOT on the prairie).  One of my friends commented that the photo "looked like a very Betty Crocker moment" but that is somewhat misleading.  And that's because my mom was very selective about how much time I spent in the kitchen and on what projects I got to play her assistant.

In my early years, I probably "helped" a lot—until I became a nuisance, that is.  And then there was a good long stretch where I was only allowed to lick the beaters, something many kids of that era remember fondly until early iterations of the salmonella scare ruined everything!

For several years, my mom left my culinary education up to the Girl Scout leaders who taught us how to cook over an open fire.  No doubt my mom thought that if I had to burn something down, it was best to burn down the school that hosted our
Girl Scout Day Camp than her kitchen.  She had something there.

Somewhere around 5^th or 6^th grade, I got on a roll making a very easy applesauce recipe.  Lots and lots of applesauce that we froze in small, neatly-labeled containers – her handwriting, not mine.  Mom handled the canning and/or freezing of all other fruits and vegetables from our garden.  I got to watch. 

One of the things that most fascinated me was my mom's pressure cooker.  A few years ago, they came back in vogue but my mom had a veritable lock and load on both the lid and the process; you do not want to mishandle a pressure cooker, especially the lid, or you will end up with food all over your ceiling.  I let my mom drive the big rig.

So all told, my actual kitchen time at home was limited, and what little cooking I did was in 7^th and 8^th grade Home Ec classes (LOVED the cooking part.), along with a bit here and there in high school and then nothing  until my junior year in college.  That year, I moved to an apartment with three other women and my mom gave me an updated version of her favorite cookbook – Better Homes and Gardens.  My roommates and I cooked the hell out of that book.

Years later, I am pretty handy in the kitchen and also have a "thing" about my kitchen – it's my turf.  My mother was the same way; upon finally getting a kitchen of her own when she got married, she never let up off the throttle until the day she died.

When it came to pizza, my non-Sicilian mother relied on Chef Boyarde's pizza kit that came with the dough mix, canned sauce and even canned cheese.  We didn't have that too often though since my dad's mother, Vita, made the real deal.  The only problem was that she was miles away in New Jersey while we were in Michigan.  So we got our proper Sicilian-pizza fix on once a year and that had to do.

This recipe is very similar to my grandmother's pizza and with a few tweaks, I made it even more so.  When my grandmother taught me and my cousin, Mary Pat, how to make pizza (a disaster on many levels given that most pizza dough should not contain large, gaping holes) she taught us her way:  lightly oil the bottom of the pan, put the mozzarella on top of the dough, sauce on the top, drizzle olive oil on top of the sauce and bake.  Easy as a pizza pie!  And delicious.  I've told my husband, Andy, a million times that if you make it like that, you can eat the pizza cold and it will taste delicious because the cheese remains wonderfully moist instead of congealing into something that could be used as a drain plug. (In my opinion.)

Now because I'm somewhat lazy, I didn't make the pizza dough as directed in this cookbook, instead picking up a small dough from Broder's Cucina Italiana where I used to work.  I don't "do" yeast and this recipe calls for yeast.  Why stress myself out on Mother's Day?

And then – and this was my fault – instead of picking up what I thought was "regular" basil from Lunds & Byerlys, I accidentally grabbed Thai Basil which is similar and yet not. And if I am allowed to vent for a moment – what the heck Lunds and Byerlys?  I had never seen Thai Basil in any grocery store outside of an Asian market ever and the day I shopped, there it was front and center?  The nerve!  So rather than risk ruining my very traditional Italian pizza, I used dried basil, adding it to my sauce to allow the flavors to mellow.

I am happy to report though, that the mozzarella made it through the entire process unscathed.  Well, what was left of it after I nibbled on it the entire time I was cutting it for the pizza. 

And that really, was that.  I could have done a roast, I could have made some toast but instead, I made a quick and easy pizza that reminded me of all the good times spent in the kitchen with all my female relatives, all of whom are greatly missed, Mother's Day and always.

An All Purpose Pizza Dough for Mother's Day – makes 1 12-inch pizza

1 to 1 ½ cups water at bath temperature

1 teaspoon sugar

1 teaspoon dried yeast

2 cups flour

½ cup cornmeal

1 teaspoon salt

1 tablespoon olive oil

Add a little of the warm water to the sugar and yeast, and let it express itself, the way you say you never got to.  It will get foamy when it's ready.  Meanwhile, sift your flour, cornmeal, and salt together.  When the yeast water is ready, combine everything, and knead thoroughly; ten minutes is good.  Leave it covered for an hour to rise.  Then you knead it again.  Some Mother's Day, huh?  At this point, all the handling you do is just for fun.  You could be glamorous wiht it like your Dad and twirl it over your head, but I just move it into a 12-inch round and place it on a pizza pan greased with the olive oil.  Bake according to the pizza recipe you are using.

"A Pizza I Would Name After You If I Didn't Think It Already Had a Name" a/k/a Pizza Margherita – makes enough sauce for 1 12-inch pizza

"Don't buy tomatoes from just anybody."

All-Purpose Pizza Dough for Mother's Day (above)

4 tomatoes, blanched, peeled, seeded, and minced

1 white onion, minced

1 clove garlic, crushed

¼ cup olive oil

12 thin slices mozzarella

12 leaves of basil

Ground white and black pepper to taste

Start your oven at 450 degrees.

Make the sauce by frying your tomatoes, onions, and garlic in most of the oil.  (Ann's Note:  Sautéing the mixture is better than frying and use only enough oil to coat the pan or you will have a very oily sauce.).  When the onions are transparent, the sauce is ready.  Spread the rest of the olive oil on the dough and then spread the sauce on top of it.  Next apply the slices of mozzarella and basil in an artful fashion, as only you know how to do.  Bake for 15 minutes.

And now a word about this cookbook:  it stinks.  I don't mean that the recipes are bad, I mean that it smells as if it fell into a vat of perfume and stayed in it for a year or so. And this is not the first time this has happened with some of the cookbooks I've purchased leading me to wonder just what on earth these women are doing with their cookbooks anyway?  I've tried my usual methods to get the smell out to no avail (a baking soda "bath" then wrap it up in a plastic bag or letting it sit in the sun) and so I spent just about zero time looking for a recipe.  It appears that the author writes "mom" letters of advice to her kids and breaks out the sections by food group and by kid but that's all I can tell you.  'Tis a shame, really, but my nose is already running and all I did was look at the book for two seconds to get clarification on something in the recipe.  Since I have now taken to storing many of the books I've already used for this blog, this one is going into cold storage, still wrapped in plastic, still showered with baking soda because I'll be damned if I let it contaminate my other books! (Or worse, stink up my garage.)

"Rhubarb Renaissance" - Salted Caramel Rhubapple Pie (For Mother's Day)

Date I made this recipe:  May 13, 2012 (Mother’s Day)

Rhubarb Renaissance by Kim Ode

Published by:  Minnesota Historical Society Press

ISBN:  978-0-87351-851-2

Recipe:  Salted Caramel Rhubapple Pie – p. 62-63

Today is Mother’s Day and since my mother is no longer with us, I’m honoring someone else’s mother instead.

Mimi Danicic is the delightful daughter of my friend, Kim Ode.  I’ve mentioned Kim before in this blog but all good things bear repeating:  Kim is an accomplished journalist for the (Minneapolis) StarTribune, author of two cookbooks – Baking with the St. Paul Bread Club and this new one, Rhubarb Renaissance. Kim is also a member of and contributing writer to Facebook’s “Baking 101” group that is filled with very cool people who know their way around baking pans and hot ovens.  Kim is also one very cool bones player (trombone) in my community band, the Calhoun-Isles Community Band.  Kim’s husband, photographer John Danicic, plays trumpet and their daughter, Mimi, has done a few summer stints with the band in the percussion section.  (Mimi also plays a mean string bass!).

When I first met Mimi (and her parents), she was in high school or perhaps just going in to high school and now she has the audacity to being “this close” to graduating from college.  How did that happen?

Mimi apparently inherited her mom’s baking instincts as Kim credits her for coming up with today’s recipe.  This recipe, and Mimi and her very cool parents, rocks!

Now some of you may shy away from rhubarb (for no good reason, if you ask me) but this recipe should get you down off the ledge because the rhubarb is offset by apples and caramel.  Mama Kim did not raise a fool in Mimi as this was one excellent pie!

My mom, Rose Marie, processed a lot of rhubarb back in the day because it was abundant in our garden.  She made and then froze a rhubarb topping for ice cream (talk about delicious what with the tartness of the rhubarb offsetting the sweet taste of ice cream), made rhubarb jam, and rhubarb cookies, cakes and pies.  I think the only reason she didn’t use rhubarb in a savory way was because she didn’t have Kim’s cookbook.  Curses!

Now when it comes to my blog, I tend to err on the side of making a savory dish because typically that constitutes our main dish for Sunday dinner.  But this time around, this pie spoke to me and so I went the opposite route and for once decided to bake something as opposed to roasting something, sautéing something or even crock-potting something.  And this decision was potentially fraught with peril because I am not a baking type of gal.  That role, as well as the title “Pie Guy,” goes to my husband, Andy Martin.

Two things make my Pie Guy giddy these days:  baking a pie and riding a bike.  Neither one has anything to do with the other but so what?  Life is filled with odd couplings.  So for once in my life, I put on my big girl panties and not only decided to bake something but decided to bake a pie (a mile high).

First things first:  buy a frozen pie shell!  Kim’s ingredients list says “pastry for a single-pie crust,” surely intended to enlist all of us in the task of rolling out our own homemade pie dough.  When the Pie Guy is baking, this happens and happens in a good way.  When the Pie Gal is baking, this does not:  this is why my Rainbow grocery store was invented and this was why they had a sale – 2 pie shells for $2.99.  Step one complete!

Step two involved peeling, coring and thickly slicing Granny Smith apples.  “I got this,” I thought because I had an apple corer and slicer tool and how easy would that be?  Except I am sometimes too anal for my own good so I sliced the apples without peeling them first and then – duh – had to peel all the apple slices from the six apples Kim said I should use.  For the record, that is a lot of sliced apples!  But I soldiered on.

I also had to cut the rhubarb so that it yielded 2 cups of 1-inch pieces.  I hate math and I get irritable when I am told to cut things into “x”-size pieces (sorry, Kim) and so I just the pieces all willy-nilly and that worked for me.  (For the record, I can be kind of literal – and anal – about instructions and so oftentimes when it says “1-inch pieces I pull out the measuring tape I keep in my kitchen specifically for those type of instructions. Today was not one of those days.)

And now a word about instant tapioca – am I dreaming or once upon a time was this ingredient pretty inexpensive?  Not so today.  I checked three grocery stores and two of them wanted between $3.59 and $3.79 for the tapioca.  Rainbow came in at a cool $2.99.  You may find this cost-averaging ridiculous but people, the recipe called for a mere ¼ cup and so when I am likely to use up the remaining tapioca?  Besides, three bucks is three bucks but $2.99 is $2.99, right?  (It’s a cooking math thing…)

Okay, so with all my ingredients and instructions, I got to work.  Because I didn’t make the pie crust my counter was devoid of messy flour and whatnot until I got to the streusel and then it looked like a flour bin exploded.  At least I had the good sense to put another pan under the pie tin so my oven wouldn’t look like my countertop.  (And this is why I don’t bake.   Who wants to look like Casper the Ghost after finishing?).

After the required half an hour, I checked my pie and it still looked a little peaked so I left it in for 10 more minutes and then it was perfect.  I drizzled the caramel over the top like the pro I aspire (but fail) to be and proudly served it to my Pie Guy who was so busy inhaling this yummy concoction, he couldn’t come up with a compliment for about five minutes.  But when he did it was glowing and so hooray, we had liftoff!

So thank you Mimi and Kim for coming up with this dish and putting it in the cookbook and making me look like a bona-fide, if not flour-dusted, baker for one, brief moment known as Camelot.  And Happy Mother’s Day everyone! 

Salted Caramel Rhubapple Pie – serves 6 – 8

Pastry for single-crust pie (I bought a frozen pie shell)

½ cup walnut pieces

6 Granny Smith apples (about 2 ¼ pounds), peeled, cored, and thickly sliced

1 tablespoon lemon juice

1 teaspoon cinnamon

1 tablespoon unsalted butter

½ cup honey

½ cup packed brown sugar

2 cups rhubarb, cut in 1-inch pieces

¼ cup instant tapioca

½ teaspoon kosher or sea salt

For the streusel topping:

½ cup flour

½ cup packed brown sugar

4 tablespoons cold butter, cut in small cubes

Line a pie plate with the crust and place in refrigerator while you prepare the filling.  Preheat oven to 375 degrees.  Spread walnuts on a baking sheet and toast in the oven about 5 minutes, until there’s a warm, nutty aroma.  Cool, then chop coarsely and set aside. (Ann’s Note:  I like walnuts but I did not like them toasted. My husband isn’t keen on nuts at all so next time around, I think I’d leave them off.).

Toss apples with lemon juice and cinnamon.  Set aside.

Melt 1 tablespoon butter with honey and ½ cup brown sugar in a large heavy saucepan and heat, stirring constantly, until mixture comes to a rolling boil.  Add apples, stirring to coat them with caramel.  Reduce heat and cook uncovered no more than 5 minutes.  Do not overcook them to mushiness.  (I’m happy to report I did NOT overcook them.  Whew!)

Place rhubarb in a bowl.  Using a slotted spoon, transfer the hot apples into the bowl with the rhubarb.  Add tapioca and stir to combine.  Let sit for 15 minutes.  In the meantime, add salt to the caramel remaining in the pan and cook, stirring often, a few minutes more to reduce it to a thick syrup.  Do not let it scorch.  Remove from heat and set aside.  (Ann’s Note:  it took more than a few minutes to get this to thicken, probably because I was so afraid about scorching the mixture that I turned the flame down really low.  The result though, was perfect!)

Combine streusel ingredients (flour, sugar and butter), pinching the butter with your fingers until it’s evenly distributed.  Stir in the toasted walnuts. 

Scrape the apple-rhubarb mixture into the chilled pie shell and drizzle with 3 tablespoons of the caramel.  Spread the streusel mixture over pie and bake for 30 minutes.  Let cool on wire rack at least 30 minutes.

Just before serving, drizzle remaining caramel (reheating if necessary) over the pie.

"Some Day You'll Thank Me For This - The Official Southern Ladies' Guide to Being a "Perfect" Mother" - Blonde Brownies

Date I made this recipe: May 16, 2009

Some Day You’ll Thank Me For This-The Official Southern Ladies’ Guide to Being a “Perfect” Mother by Gayden Metcalfe and Charlotte Hays
Published by: Hyperion
ISBN: 978-1-4013-0296-2 © 2009

Recipe: Blonde Brownies – p. 26

Boy I tell you what—you go away for a weekend and the cooking enthusiasm about disappeared. (It’s so nice to have someone else prepare food and serve it to me!) Good thing for me it was temporary.

My husband and I were in Chicago over Mother’s Day so I made this recipe a little later than intended. This is the second year without my mom so I didn’t have the celebration some people had with their moms and families but I thought about her the entire day.

In anticipation of Mother’s Day, however I purchased this book/cookbook Some Day You’ll Thank Me For This—The Official Southern Ladies’ Guide to Being a “Perfect” Mother by the authors of Being Dead Is No Excuse Gayden Metcalfe and Charlotte Hays. I showcased the Being Dead book a few weeks ago and always enjoy these ladies’ sense of humor.

But I have to say that although my mother had manners beyond belief, she (and I) were raised in the north and so much of what these ladies wrote about it not stuff that she passed down to me. In fact, I’m not sure she ever uttered “Some day you’ll thank me for this” but it doesn’t matter; I understood that concept from an early age.

The thing that I also realized a few years back, as the author’s did, is that every day I am becoming more and more like my mother. I say things she said, I do things that she did, and on any given day, I am staring back at her likeness in the mirror. Many people commented that I looked exactly like my mother—I always thought it depended on the day but took it as a compliment.

Now I should mention that like most young ladies, I did not, however relish the thought of becoming my mom. She had me in her early 30’s and while these days it’s almost the norm, back then it was harder for her to be an older mom. She grew up during the Depression and was a product of her generation—a little reserved, a little cautious and to me (at the time), a little old-fashioned but always unfailingly polite and charming and sweet. (I wish you could have heard her voice—it’s sort of Minnie Mouse meets Betty Boop and I loved to imitate her, sometimes to her amusement, other times to her chagrin.) And so during the early years, we locked horns all the time over everything from clothing to dating to even TV shows we were allowed to watch. (I’m not sure I ever confessed to her that I watched Dark Shadows while she was out, even though I was expressly forbidden to do so!).

But ah, ladies, all of a sudden that clock speeded up and the next thing you know, I am her.

I have to say the one trait that I inherited (and I can’t believe I’m saying this) is her housekeeping “philosophy.” My mom always vacuumed first and then dusted. My husband will vacuum but the art of dusting is lost on him. My mother never ever, ever, ever used a sponge that had previously mopped up counter crud on her dishes and yet my husband sees nothing wrong with doing the dishes with the same sponge; I haven’t gone so far as to use scalding hot water when dishwashing but I’m close. As much as I try though, he cannot be persuaded that my mother’s way is the better way. To be fair, Andy is much more involved in the household than my dad ever was and so it’s kind of hard to do things “my way or the highway.” But that doesn’t mean I don’t try!

So at any rate, many of the recipes in this cookbook are not ones my mother would have made and so I settled on something that she likely would have made and that is the Blonde Brownies.
This recipe is really easy and yet it didn’t quite come up to expectations. The brownie consistency was a cross between a cornbread, a brownie and a cookie and they were really sweet. But hey, who doesn’t appreciate a sugar buzz now and then?!

In the end, I really didn’t care how the recipe turned out as this was just my way to honor my mother. I can’t credit her with teaching me how to cook as she didn’t really let me into her kitchen, but I can credit her with so much more –how to be kind to people, how volunteering (without ever being lectured) is something we all should do and how a little Comet never hurt anything!

Blonde Brownies – makes one dozen but the recipe can be doubled
1 stick butter
1 cup sugar
1 cup flour
2 eggs
1/c cup chopped nuts
½ teaspoon vanilla or lemon extract

Soften butter, blend in sugar and flour, add eggs one at a time, and fold in the nuts. Pour into 8-inched greased square cake pan. Bake 30 minutes at 350.

Note: The authors didn’t say to use unsalted butter (I did) but I’m wondering if that would have helped? I was surprised that salt was not included in the recipe but maybe it came in via the butter.