Category Archives: Cooking

The Most Amazing Chocolate Cake

25 Wednesday Mar 2020

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The Most Amazing Chocolate Cake is here. Moist, chocolaty perfection. This is the chocolate cake you’ve been dreaming of!
— Read on thestayathomechef.com/the-most-amazing-chocolate-cake/

Zachary chose this recipe for his birthday cake this year. We had so much fun putting this together. We chose to make the 2/3 recipe because a three layer cake seemed like too much. Afterthought: One could not get enough of this cake or the luscious frosting.  Next time we will make the whole recipe and have three yummy layers instead of only two!  We would keep the cake from slumping next time by inserting some chopsticks to hold it in place after frosting it with the creamy, buttery rich icing.

This is what the cake was supposed to look like!

This is how it turned out!

Happy New Year!

02 Friday Jan 2015

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There are two New Year’s Day traditions in our house. James must have his black-eyed peas and I must have pork and sauerkraut. Ever since 1997, we have been enjoying both the Pennsylvania Dutch and the Southern dishes on New Year’s Day, and it is something that we both look forward to with a great deal of happiness.

So this morning, as soon as we had our morning coffee and polished off the delicious fried grits and fluffy cheese omelets that James served up, we got busy with the holiday meals. James rinsed off the peas he had soaking and got them cooking in the electric kettle. I pulled out the zip lock bags that held our garden-grown, home made sauerkraut and poured the contents into our biggest crockpot.

Usually we have pork with the sauerkraut and the leftover ham bone from Christmas for the peas, but today all we had was a whole ham that Colette and I had never cooked for Christmas, determining that the twenty-something pound turkey was plenty for the twelve of us. James took one side of the ham for his peas, and he cut off a generous bit for sandwiches and supper steaks and then gave me the other end for the sauerkraut.

We cut up our ham and put it in our dishes and it was the easiest meal ever. All James did was add some jalapeno and salt and pepper to the peas and they cooked all morning and then got put in the cast iron kettle on top of the woodstove to keep warm for the rest of the day. I added nothing else to the sauerkraut, not even pepper and that cooked in the crockpot into the afternoon and then I put the crock on top of the woodstove as well to stay warm.

Meanwhile I made several batches of bread dough. I froze three batches and kept two out for the rolls that go with the dishes. The dough was rising so fast, so the oven got turned up as high as it could go and 20 rolls were balled up and patted and poked and buttered and baked. It didn’t take long until they were nice and brown on top.

The red potatoes were diced and placed, soaking in lightly salted water, to cook later for mashed potatoes. Yesterday Jared was put in charge of dessert, so no need to bake a pie or make applesauce. However I did cook a dish of whole cranberry sauce because every single bit of it was gone from Christmas and it is everybody’s favorite. The sugar syrup was almost gone, so more of that was made for the iced tea.

Meanwhile, James gathered the eggs and fed the chickens and ducks. Today’s offering was over a dozen beautiful brown eggs. He stoked the woodstove, and burned the trash. Then he started working on our new bookshelf.

We have this extra room off our current bedroom that leads to the new construction. It was my idea to take the wall where the French doors used to be and make a primitive style bookcase out of the cavity – just leave the existing two by four frame and put some more two by fours up to hold all my paperbacks that do not fit into the glass-cased bookshelves in my office. It was James’ idea to use two by sixes for the “shelves,” and it was his expertise with the saw, level, and hammer to make it happen. We started it last night and he said that he would finish it today. I resisted his efforts to beautify it. I love primitive rustic things – taking something old and worn out and getting a second use from it – and in this case, he put aside his own preferences and made me the style of bookcase I wanted. I could not be more thrilled.

A reading nook.

While the dishes were cooking themselves in their separate electric pots, I was busy toting my paperbacks over from the old part of the house where they had been stashed all these long months. When the case was finished, James sat down and had a cold beer, while I cleaned up the splinters and shavings and wiped the boards down and put all my beloved books on the shelf. “Are you going to put them in any kind of order?” he asked. I said no.

Just touching them and reading the covers of my ragged collection brought me such joy! Books have always been my best friends. Sinking into a book is one of my biggest pleasures. My dream is to have a house with walls made out of bookshelves. And here was a wall and my paperbacks. There were shelves for the kids’ Golden Books. As broke as we were, every time I went to the grocery, I bought Golden Books for Jared and Manda. The books have stayed with me.  Memories of sitting up in bed with them, one on each side, brought tears to my eyes. And now the grandkids get the same stories read to them! We would love to be around for the great grandkids and do it again. Wouldn’t that be lovely? But we don’t want to rush things.

So all the books fit and even James had to agree with me, it looked nice. I sat down in my new black leather swivel chair (a surprise Christmas present from my darling) and instead of reading, I just looked at them all. It was a reunion with old chums.

Jared had gone snowboarding with friends; Lisa had taken the two youngest grandsons to see “Night in the Museum 2,” and David had worked at McDonald’s. They weren’t getting here until 6:00 or so, and so there was plenty of time to get a little reading in. I could not settle myself down to read though, so I folded laundry and we tucked into the sauerkraut and beans for a light lunch. I made James a buttered roll and he said they were delicious – all yeasty and warm and just the right texture.

Later, the Curry’s got here at different times. Jared and David showed up first and we sat around the table and chatted and drank iced tea and talked about New Year’s resolutions. Lisa and Jonathan and Zachary came later. We served ourselves plates of food whenever we felt like eating and it was casual and fun. Everybody admired my new bookshelf. “It looks like you,” said Jared. “It looks like your house,” said Jonathan. “It fits.”

Zachary and Jonathan and Lisa tried out my new chair. It was not Zachary and Jonathan’s first time, but it was Lisa’s first time. She did not seem anxious to move once she got in it. You would have to sit in it to see why. She showed me her new tattoo. A lovely blue flower on the top of her foot. She said how much it hurt when she got it. I can only imagine. David showed me his tattoo – it says Tai Kwan Do in Korean. (They both have their black belts.) Jared showed me his new tattoo – a frightening  face on the side of his original one on his upper arm. Although I personally would never get a tattoo, I admired theirs.

We had plans to watch a movie or play games, but everyone was tired and some of us have to get up and go to work tomorrow! So we called it a night and bid each other farewell. It was a really nice day – there was a Denzel Washington movie to watch but I got sleepy and so I kissed my darling goodnight and came upstairs to go to bed.

The house still smells of ham and sauerkraut, black-eyed peas and fresh baked yeasty buns.

What a nice way to spend the first day of the New Year.

When Gumbo Calls My Name

22 Tuesday Jul 2014

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I never heard of gumbo or even okra for that matter before visiting New Orleans back in the early 90’s. I was there with a friend and while he attended conferences, I met a fun-loving woman from Connecticut whose husband was attending the same conferences. Although I forget her last name, I will forever be indebted to Cheryl because she had done her research, and in my rental car and with her directions (this was before we had the GPS, mind you) we traversed New Orleans and the surrounding countryside touring mansions, plantations, swamps, and graveyards, all the while scarfing down native dishes and alcoholic beverages. Amid all that flurry of fun and food and fast friendship, I had a taste of gumbo, and I liked it. However, back in Pennsylvania raising Jared and Manda, attending night classes, working as an executive assistant – a time in life where meatloaf, tacos, enchiladas, and pizza were our mainstays, I promptly forgot any impact that the dish made upon my taste buds.

Then in the late 90’s, I met the man of my dreams, got married, and together we cultivated and celebrated a shared passion for good food. James did not mind my initial disasters in the kitchen; he encouraged me to take a devil-may-care approach and have fun with it. Giving me that kind of leeway eventually led to an absolute passion for cooking.

Fast forward to the year 2001. We were living in Shanghai and friends with a self-professed Cajun who was vastly impressed with the fact that I was growing okra in pots on our patio there at W-9 Tomson Golf Villa. Why was I growing okra? Because fried okra was one of James’s favorite dishes and I set out to grow our own. It makes me happy to grow things, and the weather – hot, sunny, a bit on the humid side – was perfect for growing just about anything we wanted.

Licking his chops over my okra, Bubba said he would teach me how to make gumbo. Now James and I were already belting out our favorite Jimmy Buffet song called I Will Play for Gumbo; our favorite line being – it’s a little like religion and a lot like sex, you should never know when you’re going to get it next. But all I recollected about the legendary dish was a vague memory of something rich and savory in a bowl from some obscure roadside diner in or around New Orleans with Cheryl from Connecticut.

Since I am game for trying anything new, I went on several shopping trips to the Metro, Carrefour, and the Chinese market and purchased the many ingredients from the list that Bubba gave me. Crab, shrimp, chicken, Andouille sausage, celery, onions, green peppers, garlic, cayenne, thyme, paprika, flour, butter – I still have that list scribbled on a back of an envelope. Anybody living in Shanghai in 2001 will appreciate my efforts to find Andouille sausage! We sent out word that there was going to be gumbo at W-9, and that Saturday morning Bubba shows up with his cigarettes and a bottle of rum, and we set to work.

First there was the roux. I did not know a thing about roux. An indeterminate amount of butter and flour went into the big super-size pot over medium heat. Then there was a good two hours of near constant stirring. We took turns until it was the color of a penny. Meanwhile we gave each other cigarette breaks. I have never been a big smoker, but that day in the spirit of camaraderie, I smoked Bubba’s cigarettes on our back porch, flicking my ash in a little jar lid, and we made each other rum and cokes to drink. Such a deal, as Bubba was fond of saying.

While one of us stirred the roux, the other one chopped the onions, celery, peppers, parsley, and garlic. The roux finally took on the deep inviting color of copper and filled W-9 with a most wonderful nutty, caramel aroma. We added the chopped veggies and let them spatter in the hot, bubbling mass of butter and flour meld. It sizzled and popped and there were a few hot spots on my arm, but no worries because our gumbo was finally coming together. We had a big pile of sausage and chicken to throw in the pot along with the seasonings – paprika, salt and pepper, a bit of cumin, a bay leaf.

I was trying to take notes as we went, but finally gave up and just went with the flow. During the last ten minutes we added the fresh shrimp, crab legs, and okra. At the very end we threw in chopped fresh parsley and a generous sprinkle of file powder. By this time it was early afternoon. We had pots and pots of it. We had about a dozen loaves of French bread to sop it up. The rice cooker was put to good use. I made a few big pans of orange marmalade bread pudding for dessert, and that night we had a party. Everybody raved about the gumbo. There were some Chinese guests who ladled their gumbo over the bread pudding; the rest of us had it over white rice and sopped up the broth with warm French bread.

My first experience with making gumbo filled me with a sense of happy accomplishment. Since then I have made some changes each time we put it together. For instance I skip the crab legs. James and I agreed that as much as we enjoy eating crab legs, we like using a spoon, not our fingers when it comes to gumbo. I also use peeled and deveined shrimp for the same reason. And, if I cannot find Andouille sausage, I don’t sweat it. I substitute a good smoked pork kielbasa and add a few extra pinches of paprika. If I am short of one ingredient, I add a bit more of something else. As of yet, no complaints.

We have okra growing in our garden right now, and so the other night, after looking at pictures of our times in Shanghai, a craving for gumbo began to stir. James’s eyes lit up when I mentioned it and so, I harvested a meager five pods of okra from the garden and began to make it.

Yes, I know, five pods of okra are not enough to make a reasonable amount of gumbo. And why would anybody go to all that trouble for a small pot of gumbo? So I substituted minced baby zucchini for the rest of the okra, and it turned out delicious. I made a big pot of grits for my southern guy, and we ate that with the gumbo rather than rice. I shared a quart with my cousin Bonnie and her husband PD. James had the next to last bowl for his lunch today.

While I was stirring the roux, I thought of different times I have made gumbo since that first time with Bubba. There was the time I made it for our Mardi Gras party a few years ago, and our friends the Appleman’s brought jambalaya and our friend Becky brought the most delicious French bread and a variety of herbed butter. My sister brought one of her specialty salads. What a celebration. There was the time I made it for my friends and coworkers at Northumberland County Head Start. What fun that was to enjoy each other’s cooking on our lunch hour! My friend Ann took some home for her husband, so he could get a taste. Last fall, when Colette and Coltin were staying with us I made it for the family – and all four of the grandsons, including the little fellow gobbled it up and wanted more. Talk about gratifying!

While I was washing and slicing the five freshly picked okra, Jesus came to mind and how he fed the five thousand on two fishes and five loaves of bread. Now would that not be something – to have that miraculous ability to multiply food. We would not have to wait for the rest of the pods to spring forth – we could have gumbo any time we pleased! No making do with minced baby zucchini. My mind circled around this would be happy scenario. However, it did not take me long to realize that as enjoyable as gathering all the fine fixings, chopping, mincing, crushing, and stirring can be, the joy of these culinary rituals would be lost on a daily, or even weekly basis. I want to make gumbo when the mood strikes me, when the memories begin to tease my taste buds and gumbo calls my name. Jimmy Buffet is right. It is a little like religion and a lot like sex; you should never know when you’re gonna get it next.

Sausage Egg and Cheese Minis

07 Monday Jul 2014

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The first Sunday we attended the Mooresburg Presbyterian Church, there was a delicious fellowship brunch after the church service, and for some reason I had the impression that they did this every Sunday. I was enamored with the idea of breaking bread together on a regular basis, and the next week I prepared food to contribute, and since we live a little over a mile away, I kept it at home, intending to go back to the house and get it.

A good thing, because come to find out, it was only the last Sunday of the month that they hosted the fellowship brunch. One of the few times that I prevented showing my ignorance of people and their customs, we shared them with our son and his family, and we breakfasted on minis for the rest of the week – they were wonderful wrapped in a paper towel and warmed in the microwave for 25 seconds.

In any case, we continue to attend the church. We grew to love the pastor and his wife; we enjoy the people who are welcoming and friendly. While we both agreed that if we ever join a church, it would certainly be this one, in the end, we decided to hold on to our autonomy as non-denominational Christians and be friends of the church. This, thankfully, did not seem to pose a problem to the majority, and we continue to enjoy fellowship (and the fellowship brunches) at Mooresburg Presbyterian. It took me a while to get used to their style since I was raised Pentecostal. There are times I want to clap my hands and throw my arms up in the air and wave them around, but I save that for my private devotions! I joined the choir and help out with Vacation Bible School, and I like to think that this approach is helping me to develop a healthier and more realistic approach to Christianity.

I love to make bread and any recipe that involves dough is always a joy for me to make. So I have cultivated the habit of taking what I call, Egg Sausage and Cheese Minis as our contribution to the brunch. (My friend Beckie Bourbeau calls them sliders, which is also a cool name.) The Presbyterians seem to enjoy them as much as I like making them, so I would be loath to take anything else. I have been asked on a number of occasions for the recipe, so I thought I would include it on my blog.

Sausage Egg & Cheese Minis

For dough:
3 ½ cups of all-purpose flour
1 tsp. salt
1 T. sugar
1 T. yeast

Mix 3 cups of the flour, and the rest of the above ingredients together, then add at the same time:

1 ½ – 2 T. oil (I use olive oil)
1 cup warm water

Add the warm water and oil liquid to the dry ingredients and mix together. You can do this by using your hands (well-greased) or a food processor or a dough hook of a mixer. I use a food processor and pour the water into the processor slowly while the machine is on.

The dough should eventually form a ball and pull away from the sides of the bowl. When this happens, gather the dough together and place on a floured surface. (Use the other ½ cup of flour to flour your surface and hands). Knead the dough by hand for several minutes until smooth and a bit shiny. Place in a greased bowl and cover with a piece of plastic and a damp t-towel. Place it in a warm (not hot) place. Let it rise until nearly double in size. Then punch it down and let it rise again.

If you are making more than one batch of dough, make only one batch at a time. For multiple batches, I use oiled gallon-size zip-lock bags and put my dough in there to either freeze for later use or to let rise. This way it is easier to punch it down and let it rise for the second time.

For the filling:

1 pound of loose sausage
1 pound of shredded mild cheddar cheese
Six large eggs

Fry sausage in a lightly greased pan over medium heat. Break the sausage up into little pieces. The sausage will make its own grease. You can choose to let this in or drain it. I usually let at least a little bit of the fat in because it adds flavor. After the sausage is no longer pink (but not brown) add six eggs and scramble lightly. Do not cook the eggs completely. While they are still a bit moist, add the cheese and incorporate it thoroughly throughout the mixture. Set aside to cool.

Preheat oven to 450°. Line a baking pan with parchment paper and grease and lightly flour.

When your dough has risen for the second time, divide it into 16 equal size pieces. Roll out each piece on a floured surface and add a generous spoon of the meat and egg and cheese mixture to the middle. Then gather up the sides of the dough like a money bag and twist. Or you can roll the dough up like a pinwheel. Whatever works for you. Just make sure the dough is sealed so that the filling cannot get out during the baking. Put the seam side down on the parchment paper. When all the pieces of dough are filled and ready to bake, prick the top of each mini with a fork and spray lightly with oil or rub a little butter or oil on the top of each one. Cover with plastic wrap and a warm, damp towel and let rise again for about 10 minutes. Take off the plastic wrap and the towel and place in the warm oven. Bake for about 12 minutes or until tops are golden brown and have a hollow sound when you tap the top.

Some notes:

I usually make up several batches of dough ahead of time and keep them in the freezer. I get them out the night before I need the dough and let them thaw in the zip lock bags over night in some dark and slightly warm place. For the church fellowship, I use two batches of dough and double the meat and egg and cheese mixture.

I also use this dough for dinner rolls, pizza, sticky buns, and all sorts of other applications. It’s fun and easy, and I use whatever is on hand for the filling.

Under the weather

19 Thursday Jun 2014

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Whenever I am under the weather the only thing that sounds the least bit appetizing to me is applesauce.

Incredibly easy to make, applesauce is a dish that I love to keep on hand. While it is a lovely stand alone snack, it is also a tasty accompaniment to yogurt and cottage cheese, a perfect side dish for any kind of meat, and it can be used in place of oil for baking cakes.

Today I was under the weather. We can’t figure out what caused it – my husband is feeling fine. We eat the same foods and go the same places – but something I ingested did not agree with my system. So all last night and about all day today I spewed forth foul stuff from both ends. Not a pretty sight. I had fever and chills. I had terrible pain in my stomach. It was no fun. No fun at all.

It was probably little surprise to James, when he asked me what I wanted to eat after such an ordeal, that I said applesauce. He was calling from town and though it would have been easier to just pick up a jar of Musselman’s, being the kind of fellow he is, he offered to make it. We have all those good Fuji apples from the market after all. So he came home and gave me a glass of Sprite, then set to work.

I heard a lot of chopping coming from the kitchen, however I usually forgo all that chopping. Here is how I make it:

Wash the apples in a weak vinegar solution, rinse them, quarter them and take out the core. Leave the peels on.
Cut the quarters in half and put them in the electric kettle on low. Add a generous amount of cinnamon. Give them a good stir every once in a while. Let them cook until they become soft and mushy, about an hour on low. (You can speed things up and crank up the heat and stir more often if you are in a hurry.) Run the hand-held blender through them until desired consistency. If you don’t have a hand-held blender – get one! They are one of the most useful kitchen tools ever.

(My son told me that applesauce does not need added sugar. So I tried it without sugar and it not only tastes better but is healthier.)

I was on the phone with my aunt when James brought me a steaming dish. I took a tiny bite. It was delicious. And easy to digest. On the road to recovery!

Getting Started

17 Tuesday Jun 2014

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Today stretches out before me as I sit here in bed with my laptop in front of me, the hazy sun pouring in the north facing windows, my empty coffee cup beside me.  I woke up this morning after my husband left for work and had to get my own coffee.  Usually he brings it to me, hot and steamy with just the perfect amount of evaporated milk and one packet of Stevia thoroughly stirred in, each morning.  It is hell, I tell him, having to get my own coffee in the morning.  But of course, it is not hell.  It is a joke.  There are times I like getting my own coffee and bringing it back to bed with me.

I write in my journal and look out the window at the same black walnut tree that has been there since I was born. When I was little, my aim was to take the beautiful designs that the leaves made, and paper my walls with it. Now I realize that I don’t have to do that – I live in the same house with the same tree outside my window. There was talk earlier this spring of taking the old tree down. It sheds the most irksome litter which seems unending at times. Black walnuts are, even in their prime, tedious to harvest – first there is that stain-producing hull that has to be removed, then the hard shell to crack open, and then the tiniest bit of flesh inside. My mother, sister, and I used to spend hours picking out walnut flesh to add to sand tarts. Now the tree gives forth mostly prunish walnuts. I have given up on collecting them because the meat is shriveled and sour.

Still, I told my husband and son not to have the old tree cut down. It still means something to me. This time of year at least, before all that debris, it is beautifully leafy, branching out in all directions, affording shade for the lower half of the front yard. Instead of getting lost in my affection for the tree however, I will get back to Tuesday.

My friend, Kim, plans out her day ahead of time. This never seems to work for me. I sort of take it as it comes. Still I am plagued with a feeling of not getting things done. Aside from taking care of our feathered fowl and the normal household routine – here are the things I want to get done today: We owe some local taxes, so a check must be cut first thing. Then there are Ritter Reunion invitations to get out in the mail. So a trip to the post office. There is a trip to the bank to deposit a check. There are cucumber, mariogold, and okra seedlings to plant today – a small heap of mushroom soil has survived the driving rain we had yesterday, and I will use that. Tonight there is a gathering at a cousin’s house to see her son and his family who are visiting from Tennessee. I want to take something good to share – but haven’t decided yet what that will be. She asked me to bring a dozen duck eggs for her son, but what if I make a duck egg custard as well? Silky smooth and with only a scant amount of sugar – what a delicious dessert to take for a cookout!

Recipe for Duck Egg Custard

(Get a head start and preheat the oven to 375 degrees. Sometimes I forget this part and am always sorry.)

Ingredients:
8 duck eggs
1/2 tsp salt
5 cups of milk
2 T. vanilla
1/2 to 3/4 cup sugar
1/2 tsp nutmeg

Blend the eggs, sugar, and nutmeg.
Scald the milk and salt (scalding means bringing the milk to just under boiling).
Slowly add the hot milk to the egg mixture, blending carefully.
Pour into a two-quart baking dish or pan.
Sprinkle the nutmeg on top.
Bake in a preheated oven at 375 degrees for one hour.
The custard will keep baking as it cools.
You can substitute large chicken eggs if you do not have duck eggs.
Duck eggs make this rich and silky – I swear.

Last time, James made a banana foster type topping for it, and that made it even more special.