My sister-in-law called me one day, asking for my scalloped potato recipe.
"I don't really have one," I replied.
"What? But you make them all the time!" she said.
"Yes, but hardly ever with a recipe, and never the same way twice. I've just never hit upon the recipe that I like best, so I just continue the hunt every time I make them."
"Oh. Well. Never mind, then, I guess."
As I'm sure you've noticed if you've flipped through this blog at all, I have a love affair with potatoes. I will eat them in a house, and I will eat them with a mouse, I will eat them here or there, yes, I will eat them anywhere. And over the years, I've been fortunate enough to find or concoct recipes for potatoes that I've really loved in every category of preparation.
Except scalloped.
I first had scalloped potatoes as a child, when my family was dining with some friends. They were a potato lover's dream: wonderful flavor, simple, tender... I longed for those potatoes in my adult years, and thinking back to that first dish and how it must have been prepared, I reckon it involved potatoes, milk, flour, butter, and salt and pepper, and that's it. I must have tried every possible combination of those ingredients, but I never made scalloped potatoes that comforted me as much as those first scalloped potatoes. In fact, my sauce either turned out too thick and gloppy, or a more simple pour-the-milk-over preparation favored by many old-fashioned cookbooks yielded a curdled, tasteless mess.
But there's this marvelous magazine called Cooks Illustrated. The idea behind this particular publication is that they test and dissect recipes until they are perfect and foolproof, and they're very often successful. So when I had reached an impasse in my scalloped potato recipe search, I remembered them. They have one of those websites that you have to pay a monthly fee to use, and I wasn't quite desperate enough to pay for the recipe--yet. Frequently, bloggers and other miscellaneous recipe-posters will post notable Cooks Illustrated recipes on other sites, so I went a-Googlin' in hopes of finding it for free, and lo and behold, up popped this recipe.
So I tried it, and I loved it. It is now my scalloped potato recipe, so if Beth ever calls again looking for one, I will give this to her. Actually, come to think about it, I think I already gave it to her, knowing that she'd love it as much as we do. It's a little more detailed of an ingredient list than the flour-butter-milk-salt and pepper recipes I'd been using, but it still wasn't difficult, I usually have everything on the list on hand, and it actually comes together much more quickly than standard scalloped potato recipes, and with infinitely better flavor and texture. If you love potatoes like I do, or even just kind of like them, give this one a try!
Cooks Illustrated Scalloped Potatoes with Thyme and Bay
2 Tbsp. butter
1 med. onion, minced
2 med. garlic cloves, minced or pressed
1 Tbsp fresh thyme leaves, minced (or 1 tsp. dried thyme--that's what I use)
1 1/4 tsp. salt
1/2 tsp. ground black pepper
1 1/2 lbs. (about 5 medium) russet potatoes, peeled and sliced 1/8 in. thick (*note: I don't peel, I just scrub. I like the skins and the flavor and nutrients they add. And to slice, I just run the spuds through the food processor with the slicing blade)
1 c. chicken broth
1 c. heavy cream (or, if you're like me, you use 2% milk, because that's what you have)
2 bay leaves
4 oz. cheddar cheese, shredded (about 1 cup loosely-packed shredded cheese)
Preheat your oven to 425 degrees.
Melt the butter, and sauté the onion over medium heat until soft and translucent. Add the garlic, thyme, and salt and pepper and cook for about 30 seconds or so. Add the potatoes, broth, cream (or milk), and bay leaves, and bring to a simmer. Cover, reduce heat to medium-low, and simmer until the potatoes are nearly tender, about 10 minutes. Remove bay leaves and discard.
Transfer the mixture to a 8x8 baking dish (or whatever casserole dish you'd like). Sprinkle the top with the cheese and bake in the preheated oven for about 15 minutes, or until the sauce is bubbling and the top is golden brown. Cool for about 10 minutes before serving (or not, if you're impatient like me).
NOW, if you want to turn this into a main dish casserole, prepare as directed, except that, before you dump the potato mixture into the baking dish, add some cubed ham or chicken. I'd say about 1 1/2 cups should do it, but it's ultimately up to you. And if you really want to go crazy and make it a one-dish meal, you could add some thawed (but not cooked) frozen peas, too, about 3/4 to 1 cup.
Showing posts with label Casseroles. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Casseroles. Show all posts
Monday, April 28, 2008
Friday, March 14, 2008
Go-To Mac 'n' Cheese
One of the first meals I ever ate with Abe's family included a favorite of his: Baked Mac 'n' Cheese. It's his grandma's recipe, and he has enjoyed it ever since fetus-hood. He would eat (and probably has) and entire pan of the stuff without blinking if the rest of the family, also ardent fans, allowed it. Alas, they do not. They all eat it with great gusto and appreciation.
I, on the other hand, eschewed mac 'n' cheese as a child. I wouldn't touch the stuff with a ten foot pole. (I'm sure my mother was pleased as punch about that. I also never cared for bologna or peanut butter and jelly, but that's better left for another post.) I never ate mac 'n' cheese until I was a starving college student, by which point either a) my taste buds had developed more fully, or b) my poverty-induced hunger and need for a cheap meal trumped my lactose intolerance and general dislike of cheese. Either way, I was a relative mac 'n' cheese newbie well into my adulthood, and when I did eat the stuff, it was usually the neon-orange stuff from the blue box (or its equally-orange but less-expensive generic counterpart) or other saucy versions.
So when I sat down to sample Abe's family's mac 'n' cheese, I was stymied; it looked simply like baked noodles. Plain baked noodles. Later, after inquiring after the recipe, I realized that it was in fact a closer relative to scalloped potatoes than the mac 'n' cheese that I knew and, well, tolerated. I personally found it to be fantastically mushy, indescribably bland, and altogether unsatisfying. This was apparently no problem with the rest of the family--they polished off the entire 9x13 dish in a matter of seconds without needing my help.
Well into our marriage, the subject of baked mac 'n' cheese was a hot-button one in our household. I told Abe that I'd make anything he liked to eat in the kitchen--except his grandma's baked mac 'n' cheese. Of course, that only meant that he'd ask for it more repeatedly. It took me a while, but I finally hit on this solution: I would make a dish that had all of the qualities I thought mac 'n' cheese should have, and would bake it to give Abe the satisfaction of having his requests met. When it comes down to it, this version is neither bland nor mushy, and it is really satisfying--even more than the kind with the bright orange cheese-flavored powder. So I'm totally satisfied by this incarnation, and as for Abe, well--who really cares? He's not cooking anything anytime soon.
I started with Alton Brown's version of Stove-Top Mac 'N' Cheese and modified it slightly--I doubled the amount of pasta, while leaving the rest of the ingredient list intact. And I only use a total of 8 oz. of shredded cheese, putting 4 oz. in the actual pasta, and sprinkling the rest on top before running it under a broiler on low to give the illusion of being baked. (Don't tell.)
So, thanks Alton, for the inspiration (and the recipe).
Go-To Mac 'n' Cheese
1 lb. penne pasta
4 Tbsp. butter
2 eggs
6 oz. evaporated milk
1/2 tsp. hot sauce
1 tsp. kosher salt
Fresh black pepper to taste
3/4 tsp. dry mustard
8 oz. shredded cheddar (or the cheese of your choice), divided
Cook the pasta in well-salted boiling water until JUST al dente. be very careful not to overcook (unless you like your noodles mushy like my husband does). Drain, and return to the pot, tossing with the butter until the pasta is coated and the butter is melted.
In a separate bowl, whisk together the eggs, milk, hot sauce, salt, pepper, and mustard. Stir egg mixture into the pasta, add 4 oz. of the cheese, and put some low heat under your pot. Stir for about 3 minutes more, or until the sauce is creamy.
Spray a casserole dish with cooking spray (you'll thank me later) and add pasta to dish. Sprinkle remaining cheese over top of the pasta, and place under a broiler set at low* until the cheese is as golden brown as you like it.
*Note: if your broiler doesn't have high/low settings, just put the mac 'n' cheese on a really low rack in the oven, and watch it carefully so it doesn't burn. Or, you can actually bake it--I'd suggest about 25 minutes at 375 degrees, or, again, until it's as golden as you like. JUST MAKE SURE that your pasta isn't too done before you start baking, or else you're going to end up with mush during the baking process--the pasta will absorb much of the sauce. If you like it mushy, though, of course, proceed with all manner of overcooking. I will try not to judge.
Serves: I've never gotten an actual count of how many this could feed, since it generally just all gets eaten by Abe. As a side dish, though, I bet it could feed 6. But not in this household.
I, on the other hand, eschewed mac 'n' cheese as a child. I wouldn't touch the stuff with a ten foot pole. (I'm sure my mother was pleased as punch about that. I also never cared for bologna or peanut butter and jelly, but that's better left for another post.) I never ate mac 'n' cheese until I was a starving college student, by which point either a) my taste buds had developed more fully, or b) my poverty-induced hunger and need for a cheap meal trumped my lactose intolerance and general dislike of cheese. Either way, I was a relative mac 'n' cheese newbie well into my adulthood, and when I did eat the stuff, it was usually the neon-orange stuff from the blue box (or its equally-orange but less-expensive generic counterpart) or other saucy versions.
So when I sat down to sample Abe's family's mac 'n' cheese, I was stymied; it looked simply like baked noodles. Plain baked noodles. Later, after inquiring after the recipe, I realized that it was in fact a closer relative to scalloped potatoes than the mac 'n' cheese that I knew and, well, tolerated. I personally found it to be fantastically mushy, indescribably bland, and altogether unsatisfying. This was apparently no problem with the rest of the family--they polished off the entire 9x13 dish in a matter of seconds without needing my help.
Well into our marriage, the subject of baked mac 'n' cheese was a hot-button one in our household. I told Abe that I'd make anything he liked to eat in the kitchen--except his grandma's baked mac 'n' cheese. Of course, that only meant that he'd ask for it more repeatedly. It took me a while, but I finally hit on this solution: I would make a dish that had all of the qualities I thought mac 'n' cheese should have, and would bake it to give Abe the satisfaction of having his requests met. When it comes down to it, this version is neither bland nor mushy, and it is really satisfying--even more than the kind with the bright orange cheese-flavored powder. So I'm totally satisfied by this incarnation, and as for Abe, well--who really cares? He's not cooking anything anytime soon.
I started with Alton Brown's version of Stove-Top Mac 'N' Cheese and modified it slightly--I doubled the amount of pasta, while leaving the rest of the ingredient list intact. And I only use a total of 8 oz. of shredded cheese, putting 4 oz. in the actual pasta, and sprinkling the rest on top before running it under a broiler on low to give the illusion of being baked. (Don't tell.)
So, thanks Alton, for the inspiration (and the recipe).
Go-To Mac 'n' Cheese
1 lb. penne pasta
4 Tbsp. butter
2 eggs
6 oz. evaporated milk
1/2 tsp. hot sauce
1 tsp. kosher salt
Fresh black pepper to taste
3/4 tsp. dry mustard
8 oz. shredded cheddar (or the cheese of your choice), divided
Cook the pasta in well-salted boiling water until JUST al dente. be very careful not to overcook (unless you like your noodles mushy like my husband does). Drain, and return to the pot, tossing with the butter until the pasta is coated and the butter is melted.
In a separate bowl, whisk together the eggs, milk, hot sauce, salt, pepper, and mustard. Stir egg mixture into the pasta, add 4 oz. of the cheese, and put some low heat under your pot. Stir for about 3 minutes more, or until the sauce is creamy.
Spray a casserole dish with cooking spray (you'll thank me later) and add pasta to dish. Sprinkle remaining cheese over top of the pasta, and place under a broiler set at low* until the cheese is as golden brown as you like it.
*Note: if your broiler doesn't have high/low settings, just put the mac 'n' cheese on a really low rack in the oven, and watch it carefully so it doesn't burn. Or, you can actually bake it--I'd suggest about 25 minutes at 375 degrees, or, again, until it's as golden as you like. JUST MAKE SURE that your pasta isn't too done before you start baking, or else you're going to end up with mush during the baking process--the pasta will absorb much of the sauce. If you like it mushy, though, of course, proceed with all manner of overcooking. I will try not to judge.
Serves: I've never gotten an actual count of how many this could feed, since it generally just all gets eaten by Abe. As a side dish, though, I bet it could feed 6. But not in this household.
Monday, February 4, 2008
Stuffed Shells (Grusendini)
I had to double- and triple-check that I hadn't already posted this recipe, because it seems inconceivable that I haven't. This one, I love. It is a part of my childhood. It is a part of me.
Well, that may be overstating things a bit, but I do really, really enjoy these shells.
It had its naissance on Greenleaf Drive in Parma, Ohio. I was probably about 11 years old, and my family had been invited to my Principal's home for dinner. Mrs. Grusendorf, my principal's wife, presented with the challenge of preparing a filling meal for four adults and five children on a meager private school principal's salary, cooked up this delicious baked pasta dish. Now, it seems odd that we had never had these at our own house, for two reasons: 1)they're really simple to make, especially for my extremely talented home-ec major mother, and 2)they're pasta. But, for whatever reason, we had never had these before. We tasted them, and we loved them.
My father liked them so much, he had my mother ask for the recipe. Mrs. Grusendorf gave us the recipe, which she had simply entitled "Stuffed Shells," but my father, well, he is witty and thought the dish needed a jazzier name. So he christened the dish "Grusendini," in honor of the recipe donor, and the name stuck. Years later, when I asked my mom for the recipe so I could have it for my files, she was unclear about which recipe I was requesting until I said, " You know--Grusendini." And she gave me the recipe in a flash.
I'm making this recipe this week for my family, and 20 years after I first tried i, it is a kid- and man-pleasing family favorite. And I know it will be as tasty this week as it was that first night on Greenleaf Drive.
Grusendini
1/2 box large stuffing shells
1 lb. ground beef
1 medium onion, chopped
3/4 c. bread crumbs
1/2 c. Parmesan cheese
1/2 tsp. salt
pepper to taste
2 eggs, beaten
1 jar spaghetti sauce (or 2 cups of your homemade sauce)
1 cup shredded mozzarella cheese
Additional Parmesan cheese (optional)
Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
Brown ground beef with onion until no pink remains. Set aside to cool for a few minutes.
Cook shells until just al dente; drain.
Combine ground beef with the bread crumbs, cheese, salt, pepper, and eggs. Mix well.
Cover the bottom of a 9x13 pan with a thin layer of sauce, just so the shells have a bed to sit on and so they won't get stuck to the pan. Using a spoon, stuff the meat mixture into shells, and arrange them in the pan. Top the shells with remaining sauce, taking care to coat all of the pasta with the sauce. Cover with foil and place in the preheated oven for about 3o minutes.
Remove shells from oven and sprinkle with mozzarella cheese and additional Parmesan, if desired. Return pan to oven until cheese is melted and browned to your liking.
Serves 6 (easily--these shells are filling!)
Well, that may be overstating things a bit, but I do really, really enjoy these shells.
It had its naissance on Greenleaf Drive in Parma, Ohio. I was probably about 11 years old, and my family had been invited to my Principal's home for dinner. Mrs. Grusendorf, my principal's wife, presented with the challenge of preparing a filling meal for four adults and five children on a meager private school principal's salary, cooked up this delicious baked pasta dish. Now, it seems odd that we had never had these at our own house, for two reasons: 1)they're really simple to make, especially for my extremely talented home-ec major mother, and 2)they're pasta. But, for whatever reason, we had never had these before. We tasted them, and we loved them.
My father liked them so much, he had my mother ask for the recipe. Mrs. Grusendorf gave us the recipe, which she had simply entitled "Stuffed Shells," but my father, well, he is witty and thought the dish needed a jazzier name. So he christened the dish "Grusendini," in honor of the recipe donor, and the name stuck. Years later, when I asked my mom for the recipe so I could have it for my files, she was unclear about which recipe I was requesting until I said, " You know--Grusendini." And she gave me the recipe in a flash.
I'm making this recipe this week for my family, and 20 years after I first tried i, it is a kid- and man-pleasing family favorite. And I know it will be as tasty this week as it was that first night on Greenleaf Drive.
Grusendini
1/2 box large stuffing shells
1 lb. ground beef
1 medium onion, chopped
3/4 c. bread crumbs
1/2 c. Parmesan cheese
1/2 tsp. salt
pepper to taste
2 eggs, beaten
1 jar spaghetti sauce (or 2 cups of your homemade sauce)
1 cup shredded mozzarella cheese
Additional Parmesan cheese (optional)
Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
Brown ground beef with onion until no pink remains. Set aside to cool for a few minutes.
Cook shells until just al dente; drain.
Combine ground beef with the bread crumbs, cheese, salt, pepper, and eggs. Mix well.
Cover the bottom of a 9x13 pan with a thin layer of sauce, just so the shells have a bed to sit on and so they won't get stuck to the pan. Using a spoon, stuff the meat mixture into shells, and arrange them in the pan. Top the shells with remaining sauce, taking care to coat all of the pasta with the sauce. Cover with foil and place in the preheated oven for about 3o minutes.
Remove shells from oven and sprinkle with mozzarella cheese and additional Parmesan, if desired. Return pan to oven until cheese is melted and browned to your liking.
Serves 6 (easily--these shells are filling!)
Wednesday, November 7, 2007
Shepherd's Pie and Garlic Smashed Potatoes
Ask my mother what my favorite food is. Go ahead, ask her.
I'll wait.
Mashed potatoes, right? Does she know me, or what? I could eat mashed potatoes almost daily. In fact, I could definitely eat potatoes daily (and I'm sure my husband feels that we do, some weeks), whether they be au gratin, fried, roasted, baked . . . but always and especially mashed. Creamy, hearty, filling, soul-satisfying, and loaded with carbs, mashed potatoes have everything I look for in a food.
So when I met this dish called Shepherd's Pie (in St. Croix, USVI, of all places), whose base is ground beef, gravy, and corn and whose top is--wonder of wonders!--a sheet of fluffy mashed potatoes, I was immediately enamored of it and needed it in my life as a permanent fixture. I guess you could say I enjoyed it.
I then did what any beef/corn/mashed potato-obsessed person would do: I went straight home and re-created the recipe. Now, a disclaimer: this is not authentic Shepherd's Pie. So if you're British and your Mum made this dish for you growing up, you'd better get the recipe from her, because this is definitely an American knock-off, and it probably won't cut it for you. Real Shepherd's Pie has lamb; this does not, because I only eat lamb at the occasional passover or when I'm on a missions trip in the Faroe Islands. And most Shepherd's Pie recipes call for a tomato product in the base, but I don't enjoy the tomato/potato combination, so I leave that one alone. So forgive me for straying so far from the original, but whatever you call it, this casserole is scrumptious, low-brow, and most importantly, easy to prepare.
Below, I've posted three recipes: one for the Original Shepherd's Pie (a la St. Croix), one for Skillet Shepherd's Pie, and one for good old Garlic Smashed Potatoes. Enjoy!
Original Shepherd's Pie
1 lb. ground beef
1/2 lg. sweet onion, minced
1 clove garlic, minced finely (optional)
1 1/2 c. frozen corn (or peas, or a mixture of both)
1 envelope brown gravy mix (two if you like it really saucy; in that case, double the water, and bump the thyme up to 3/4 tsp.!)
1 c. cold water
1/2 tsp. dried thyme
ground black pepper to taste
4 cups prepared mashed potatoes
Butter
Paprika
Preheat oven to 375.
Brown ground beef. Add onion and garlic and saute over medium-low heat until onion is soft; drain.
Push the beef off to one side of the pan. To the pan, add the brown gravy mix, water, thyme, and pepper. Bring to a boil and simmer for a minute or two, until the gravy thickens.
Spread the beef and gravy evenly in the bottom of a casserole dish. Sprinkle the corn uniformly over top of that, and gently spread the mashed potatoes over top of the corn. Dot the top with small bits of butter and sprinkle with paprika. Bake for 35 minutes or until the top is as golden brown as you like it. Then stick your head in it like Mama's Little Piggy and enter a coma of bliss!
Serves 4-6.
Shepherd's Pie Skillet
(see above ingredients)
Prepare ground beef, onion, garlic, and gravy as in the original, but add the frozen vegetables directly to the skillet with the beef and gravy and let simmer for 3-5 minutes. Skip the oven altogether and serve over a big pile of mashed potatoes.
Serves 4-6.
Garlic Smashed Potatoes
6-7 lg. russet potatoes
4-5 cloves garlic, peeled and roughly chopped
3 Tbsp. butter, sliced
1/2 c. warm milk (microwave at medium power for 40 seconds or so)
1/4 c. sour cream
Black pepper
Scrub potatoes thoroughly and chop into roughly 1-in. cubes. Do not peel unless you are motivated to do so--I am most certainly not. Place in a large sauce pan with your chopped garlic and just cover with water. Place over medium high heat. When the potato pot comes to a boil, add a tablespoon or two of salt to the water. Cook potatoes until easily pierced with a fork, about 15 minutes.
Drain well; add potatoes and garlic back to the hot pan and wait 30 seconds or so for some of the moisture to evaporate. Add butter to potatoes, and mash away with your potato masher until they are as lump-free as you like them. (We like them fairly lumpy at our house.) Gradually stir in milk until the potato/garlic mixture is almost moistened enough. (Leave them a little bit stiff and dry, because you're going to add the sour cream next, and you don't want them to end up soupy. You can always add more milk later if the sour cream doesn't get your potatoes to your desired level of creaminess, okay?) Add the sour cream, and stir to distribute it well. Season with pepper to taste.
Serves 6 as a side dish.
(Try these potatoes topped with French's French Fried Onions--delicious!)
I'll wait.
Mashed potatoes, right? Does she know me, or what? I could eat mashed potatoes almost daily. In fact, I could definitely eat potatoes daily (and I'm sure my husband feels that we do, some weeks), whether they be au gratin, fried, roasted, baked . . . but always and especially mashed. Creamy, hearty, filling, soul-satisfying, and loaded with carbs, mashed potatoes have everything I look for in a food.
So when I met this dish called Shepherd's Pie (in St. Croix, USVI, of all places), whose base is ground beef, gravy, and corn and whose top is--wonder of wonders!--a sheet of fluffy mashed potatoes, I was immediately enamored of it and needed it in my life as a permanent fixture. I guess you could say I enjoyed it.
I then did what any beef/corn/mashed potato-obsessed person would do: I went straight home and re-created the recipe. Now, a disclaimer: this is not authentic Shepherd's Pie. So if you're British and your Mum made this dish for you growing up, you'd better get the recipe from her, because this is definitely an American knock-off, and it probably won't cut it for you. Real Shepherd's Pie has lamb; this does not, because I only eat lamb at the occasional passover or when I'm on a missions trip in the Faroe Islands. And most Shepherd's Pie recipes call for a tomato product in the base, but I don't enjoy the tomato/potato combination, so I leave that one alone. So forgive me for straying so far from the original, but whatever you call it, this casserole is scrumptious, low-brow, and most importantly, easy to prepare.
Below, I've posted three recipes: one for the Original Shepherd's Pie (a la St. Croix), one for Skillet Shepherd's Pie, and one for good old Garlic Smashed Potatoes. Enjoy!
Original Shepherd's Pie
1 lb. ground beef
1/2 lg. sweet onion, minced
1 clove garlic, minced finely (optional)
1 1/2 c. frozen corn (or peas, or a mixture of both)
1 envelope brown gravy mix (two if you like it really saucy; in that case, double the water, and bump the thyme up to 3/4 tsp.!)
1 c. cold water
1/2 tsp. dried thyme
ground black pepper to taste
4 cups prepared mashed potatoes
Butter
Paprika
Preheat oven to 375.
Brown ground beef. Add onion and garlic and saute over medium-low heat until onion is soft; drain.
Push the beef off to one side of the pan. To the pan, add the brown gravy mix, water, thyme, and pepper. Bring to a boil and simmer for a minute or two, until the gravy thickens.
Spread the beef and gravy evenly in the bottom of a casserole dish. Sprinkle the corn uniformly over top of that, and gently spread the mashed potatoes over top of the corn. Dot the top with small bits of butter and sprinkle with paprika. Bake for 35 minutes or until the top is as golden brown as you like it. Then stick your head in it like Mama's Little Piggy and enter a coma of bliss!
Serves 4-6.
Shepherd's Pie Skillet
(see above ingredients)
Prepare ground beef, onion, garlic, and gravy as in the original, but add the frozen vegetables directly to the skillet with the beef and gravy and let simmer for 3-5 minutes. Skip the oven altogether and serve over a big pile of mashed potatoes.
Serves 4-6.
Garlic Smashed Potatoes
6-7 lg. russet potatoes
4-5 cloves garlic, peeled and roughly chopped
3 Tbsp. butter, sliced
1/2 c. warm milk (microwave at medium power for 40 seconds or so)
1/4 c. sour cream
Black pepper
Scrub potatoes thoroughly and chop into roughly 1-in. cubes. Do not peel unless you are motivated to do so--I am most certainly not. Place in a large sauce pan with your chopped garlic and just cover with water. Place over medium high heat. When the potato pot comes to a boil, add a tablespoon or two of salt to the water. Cook potatoes until easily pierced with a fork, about 15 minutes.
Drain well; add potatoes and garlic back to the hot pan and wait 30 seconds or so for some of the moisture to evaporate. Add butter to potatoes, and mash away with your potato masher until they are as lump-free as you like them. (We like them fairly lumpy at our house.) Gradually stir in milk until the potato/garlic mixture is almost moistened enough. (Leave them a little bit stiff and dry, because you're going to add the sour cream next, and you don't want them to end up soupy. You can always add more milk later if the sour cream doesn't get your potatoes to your desired level of creaminess, okay?) Add the sour cream, and stir to distribute it well. Season with pepper to taste.
Serves 6 as a side dish.
(Try these potatoes topped with French's French Fried Onions--delicious!)
Sunday, October 28, 2007
Hot Chicken Salad
This is another dish from the "I was just being polite" category. I'm starting to notice a trend here--some of my all-time favorites started out as Things I Will Not Eat. Usually, the only reason I eat them is to be polite, but then, magically, their flavors embrace me and I end up craving them fortnightly. (Except for the unfortunate apple/pineapple/hot dog/curry dish I sampled in the Faroe Islands. I will always have unpleasant memories of that one.)
So this one started with my friend Cathie. She brought the recipe to me and told me it was wonderful. We have a lot of things in common, Cathie and I, so I thought maybe I'd like it, too, if it was her favorite. Except it was a hot casserole with mayonnaise and hard boiled eggs. Ewww. Still, it turned out she was right--it was amazing. (Except for the eggs, which I eventually omitted. But that's just me.) It has it all: warm, crunchy, creamy, hearty, easy . . . so it's a no-brainer as a winner.
I believe I can down a pan of this in one sitting--not that I've ever tried. But I'm sure I could if I had no regard for my waistline, or the fact that the rest of my family needs to eat, too. This recipe is one of the most oft-requested ones in my file, and it's usually requested by people who thought it was weird to begin with but then, like me, were converted by its somewhat addictive flavor. So beware...life will never be the same once you've tried
Hot Chicken Salad
2-3 c. chopped cooked chicken
2 c. cooked rice
1 (8 oz.) can sliced water chestnuts, roughly chopped
1 c. diced celery
1 can cream of chicken soup
3/4 c. mayonnaise
1 tsp. lemon juice
1/2 tsp. rubbed sage or poultry seasoning
salt and pepper to taste
3/4 c. cornflake crumbs
3 Tbsp. melted butter
Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.
In a large bowl, combine the chicken, rice, water chestnuts, and celery.
In a small bowl, combine the soup, mayo, lemon juice, sage, and pepper. Mix well. Add to chicken and rice mixture, combining thoroughly.
Lightly grease a 2-quart casserole dish or a 9x13 pan, and spread mixture evenly in pan.
Combine cornflake crumbs with butter and sprinkle evenly over casserole.
Bake for 30-40 minutes.
Yield: 6 servings
So this one started with my friend Cathie. She brought the recipe to me and told me it was wonderful. We have a lot of things in common, Cathie and I, so I thought maybe I'd like it, too, if it was her favorite. Except it was a hot casserole with mayonnaise and hard boiled eggs. Ewww. Still, it turned out she was right--it was amazing. (Except for the eggs, which I eventually omitted. But that's just me.) It has it all: warm, crunchy, creamy, hearty, easy . . . so it's a no-brainer as a winner.
I believe I can down a pan of this in one sitting--not that I've ever tried. But I'm sure I could if I had no regard for my waistline, or the fact that the rest of my family needs to eat, too. This recipe is one of the most oft-requested ones in my file, and it's usually requested by people who thought it was weird to begin with but then, like me, were converted by its somewhat addictive flavor. So beware...life will never be the same once you've tried
Hot Chicken Salad
2-3 c. chopped cooked chicken
2 c. cooked rice
1 (8 oz.) can sliced water chestnuts, roughly chopped
1 c. diced celery
1 can cream of chicken soup
3/4 c. mayonnaise
1 tsp. lemon juice
1/2 tsp. rubbed sage or poultry seasoning
salt and pepper to taste
3/4 c. cornflake crumbs
3 Tbsp. melted butter
Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.
In a large bowl, combine the chicken, rice, water chestnuts, and celery.
In a small bowl, combine the soup, mayo, lemon juice, sage, and pepper. Mix well. Add to chicken and rice mixture, combining thoroughly.
Lightly grease a 2-quart casserole dish or a 9x13 pan, and spread mixture evenly in pan.
Combine cornflake crumbs with butter and sprinkle evenly over casserole.
Bake for 30-40 minutes.
Yield: 6 servings
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
Bronco Beans
My mom used to make this rich bean dish when I was a kid. I hated it. Of course, I wasn't a very adventuresome eater back then--I didn't let my foods touch each other on the plate, much less in a casserole dish.
Now that I am older and more sophisticated, I recognize the simple beauty of a casserole that includes canned beans, bacon and ground beef. Bronco Beans are not low-calorie, low-fat or low- anything else; they are made up of a veritable truckload of carbs. The recipe calls for ketchup and brown sugar. It is lowbrow food at its sloppy finest, so if you are looking for something to serve at a swanky dinner party, do not make this.
If, however, you are having a barbecue or potluck and want to come home with an empty dish, this is a great go-to recipe.
And a small disclaimer: I lost my mother's recipe (sorry, Mom), so this may not be exactly her concoction per se, but it tastes pretty close. I'm sure if I've omitted anything truly important, she'll comment on it.
Bronco Beans
1/2 lb. bacon, cooked and crumbled
1 lb. ground beef, browned with 1 medium onion, diced
1 can pork and beans, undrained
1 can dark red kidney beans, drained
1 can butter beans (or Great northern beans, if you prefer), drained
1/2 c. ketchup
1 c. brown sugar
3 Tbsp. apple cider vinegar
1 tsp. mustard powder
Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
Combine bacon, beef and onion, pork and beans, kidney beans, and butter beans.
In a separate bowl, thoroughly mix the ketchup, sugar, vinegar, and mustard. Combine with the bean mixture in a large casserole dish.
Cover, and bake for 1 hour.
Serves 8 as a side dish.
Now that I am older and more sophisticated, I recognize the simple beauty of a casserole that includes canned beans, bacon and ground beef. Bronco Beans are not low-calorie, low-fat or low- anything else; they are made up of a veritable truckload of carbs. The recipe calls for ketchup and brown sugar. It is lowbrow food at its sloppy finest, so if you are looking for something to serve at a swanky dinner party, do not make this.
If, however, you are having a barbecue or potluck and want to come home with an empty dish, this is a great go-to recipe.
And a small disclaimer: I lost my mother's recipe (sorry, Mom), so this may not be exactly her concoction per se, but it tastes pretty close. I'm sure if I've omitted anything truly important, she'll comment on it.
Bronco Beans
1/2 lb. bacon, cooked and crumbled
1 lb. ground beef, browned with 1 medium onion, diced
1 can pork and beans, undrained
1 can dark red kidney beans, drained
1 can butter beans (or Great northern beans, if you prefer), drained
1/2 c. ketchup
1 c. brown sugar
3 Tbsp. apple cider vinegar
1 tsp. mustard powder
Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
Combine bacon, beef and onion, pork and beans, kidney beans, and butter beans.
In a separate bowl, thoroughly mix the ketchup, sugar, vinegar, and mustard. Combine with the bean mixture in a large casserole dish.
Cover, and bake for 1 hour.
Serves 8 as a side dish.
Thursday, July 5, 2007
Two-Saucy MockZagna
This recipe started out as Rachel Ray's "Not-Sagna," but I made a number of alterations, including the use of jarred spaghetti sauce, so I changed the name. You can reference her original recipe here. The beauty of this dish is that it has all of the flavor of labor-intensive lasagna, but it takes much much less time and effort, making it perfect for a weeknight meal.
Cori's Two-Saucy MockZagna
1 lb ground beef (with additional crumbled Italian sausage, if desired), browned
1 minced onion
3 cloves of garlic, pressed
1 jar spaghetti sauce
1 can stewed tomatoes
1 lb. short-cut pasta (I used rigatoni, but whatever you've got is fine)
1 c. ricotta
1/3 c. parmesan
1/4 c. shredded mozzarella
2 Tbsp. fresh basil, chiffonaded, or 2 tsp. dried Italian seasoning
1) Brown beef. When it has lost its pink, add the onion and garlic, and let that work for a minute or two.
2) Prepare pasta according to package directions, reserving 1/3-1/2 c. of the water for the ricotta sauce.
3) To the beef mixture, add the spaghetti sauce and the stewed tomatoes (smush the tomatoes up with your hands before you add them), and let this sit over medium heat until you need it.
4) In the bottom of a large bowl, mix together ricotta, parmesan, mozzarella, basil, salt and pepper to taste, and add the reserved pasta water. Stir well.
5) Add the pasta to the ricotta sauce, then add 1/3 of the spaghetti sauce to that; toss to combine.
6) Spoon additional spaghetti sauce over the top and sprinkle with additional mozzarella, if desired.
Serves 6.
So easy, and so YUM! If you put a lid on the pasta pot to bring the water to a boil faster, the whole shebang can go from start to finish in 20 minutes or so!
Cori's Two-Saucy MockZagna
1 lb ground beef (with additional crumbled Italian sausage, if desired), browned
1 minced onion
3 cloves of garlic, pressed
1 jar spaghetti sauce
1 can stewed tomatoes
1 lb. short-cut pasta (I used rigatoni, but whatever you've got is fine)
1 c. ricotta
1/3 c. parmesan
1/4 c. shredded mozzarella
2 Tbsp. fresh basil, chiffonaded, or 2 tsp. dried Italian seasoning
1) Brown beef. When it has lost its pink, add the onion and garlic, and let that work for a minute or two.
2) Prepare pasta according to package directions, reserving 1/3-1/2 c. of the water for the ricotta sauce.
3) To the beef mixture, add the spaghetti sauce and the stewed tomatoes (smush the tomatoes up with your hands before you add them), and let this sit over medium heat until you need it.
4) In the bottom of a large bowl, mix together ricotta, parmesan, mozzarella, basil, salt and pepper to taste, and add the reserved pasta water. Stir well.
5) Add the pasta to the ricotta sauce, then add 1/3 of the spaghetti sauce to that; toss to combine.
6) Spoon additional spaghetti sauce over the top and sprinkle with additional mozzarella, if desired.
Serves 6.
So easy, and so YUM! If you put a lid on the pasta pot to bring the water to a boil faster, the whole shebang can go from start to finish in 20 minutes or so!
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