Weekly Dish

I grew up in a house where medicine was practically non-existent. My mother believed in the power of orange juice to cure a sore throat, a Sprite-and-crackers diet to get rid of a stomach bug. Looking back, it seems as if food cured many ailments–if I had a bad day at school, we baked cookies. If I broke up with a boyfriend, I ate mint-chocolate chip ice cream for dinner…or breakfast. Often, when I was in college, my mom would drop off homemade muffins just to say she missed me. 

Perhaps in light of my upbringing, then, food for me has not only the power to sustain, but also to heal, to comfort, and to cheer me up. People in the South often talk of “comfort food,” and this time of year, when the outside world starts to appear lifeless and cold, I find myself standing over the stove to warm myself and my husband with the healing power of food.

This week, I offer recipes that I have turned to at one time or another for comfort, either for me or for a loved one, in hopes of spreading food’s magical, healing power. Of course, in order for these recipes to be effective, you must also sprinkle in a healthy dose of care and love. Believe me, people can taste it.

This first recipe belongs to my mom. Anyone that has ever been to her house in the winter knows about Mom’s Spiced Tea. For as long as I can remember, she kept this warm drink on hand during the cold months to offer to guests and to drink on dreary afternoons. When David and I were dating, it became a running joke: whenever he came to visit, she offered him spiced tea until he finally said yes (sometimes 4 or 5 times in the course of 1 visit!). He eventually learned just to accept on her first offer, for his drinking spiced tea was inevitable.

Since we’ve been married, I have followed her tradition of keeping this warm drink on hand. This very day, you’ll find a big pot of it on my stove, and late in the afternoon, David and I will probably take a break from our studies, and let ourselves be rejuvenated by Mom’s Spiced Tea.

Mom’s Spiced Tea

4 quarts water

2 cinnamon sticks

2 dozen whole cloves

3 family-size or 7 regular tea bags

3/4 - 1 cup sugar

1 46-ounce can pineapple juice

1 12-ounce can frozen orange juice

1 12-ounce can frozen lemonade

Fill a large stock pot with the water, and add the cinnamon sticks and cloves. Bring to a boil, and boil for 15 minutes. The aroma of this step alone is worth making the tea! Add the tea bags, turn off the heat, and steep, covered, for 15 minutes. Sweeten with the sugar (I usually end up adding closer to a whole cup, but I add 3/4 to begin with and then taste after I’ve added the other ingredients. You can always add more later), stirring to dissolve. Turn the heat to low, and add the juices, stirring to combine. At this point, you can taste it and adjust the sweetness. I leave it in the pot on my stove because our house is old and drafty, so it stays very cool. If you live in a well-insulated house, you may want to refrigerate it. To serve, just reheat and stir well (all the pulp settles to the bottom). It has been known to cure many a cold in my family, but that could be purely psychological. Which is fine by me.

A strange cat has been hanging out at our house lately. He’s pretty cute, brown and gray tabby with really bright green eyes, but Chester and Carmela are having a hard time adjusting to his presence. We often hear the yelps and hisses of kitty violence in our backyard, opening the door just in time to see our cats ganging up on this wandering neighbor.

A few weeks ago, I had the back door open because it was so nice outside, and I came into my kitchen to find a cat on the floor, one that doesn’t belong to me. He quickly sauntered back out when he saw me, but he isn’t afraid to intrude. His favorite spot in the backyard is near our enormous basil plants, so in honor of his persistent presence around our house, I named him after another constant in our kitchen: Pesto.

I’ve never had basil plants (or strange cats, for that matter) hang around this long. I don’t know if it’s because we planted them late in the season or because of the near-tropical climate, but they show no signs of fading any time soon. And so, I’ve had a never ending supply of pesto in my fridge (as I’m sure you’ve noticed!) and am trying to find new ways to use it. This soup is perfect for a fall use of the usually summertime herb; it’s warm and creamy but not too heavy. I adapted it from the recipe for Basil-Eggplant Soup in Martha Hopkins and Randall Lockridge’s Intercourses; my version differs only slightly from theirs.

Eggplant Basil Bisque

1 medium eggplant

1 medium yellow onion, chopped

2 cloves garlic, minced

Olive oil

4 large tomatoes, or 1 14 1/12 ounce can whole tomatoes, drained

1 1/2 cups chicken stock

1/8 t. cayenne pepper

1/2 t. Kosher salt plus more to taste

Cracked black pepper

2 ounces goat cheese

2 tablespoons basil pesto

Peel the eggplant, and cut into small chunks. Boil in salted water until tender, about 10 minutes. (The original recipe calls for grilling the eggplant, which I’m sure would impart lots of flavor. I keep meaning to try it that way.) In a large saucepan, saute the onion and garlic together over medium-low heat until the onion is translucent and very tender but not brown. Dice the tomatoes and add them to the pot; cook for another 5-7 minutes, until the tomatoes are soft. Add the eggplant and chicken broth; season with cayenne, salt, and pepper. Simmer for about 45 minutes. Remove from heat to cool a bit. Mix the pesto and goat cheese in the blender to form a greenish paste. Remove the pesto paste from the blender, leaving a little sticking to the sides. Puree the soup in batches, but be careful! Hot soup will blow the lid right off your blender. Reheat the pureed soup if necessary; serve with a spoonful of the basil paste on top. I didn’t have goat cheese when I made the soup you see in the photo, so I just used pesto. It was still good, but the goat cheese adds a nice creaminess that I like, so if you have it, use it. Serve with crusty bread and a salad.

There are so many different versions of curry that you really never know what you’re going to get if you order it at a restaurant. What kind of restaurant helps–Thai curries are generally made with coconut milk, Indian ones with yogurt–but even then, some Thai curries contain potatoes, some contain eggplant; you really just never know. Which is part of what I love about ordering them–always a surprise.

A bowl of curry on a cold night is a richer, heartier version of chicken soup for me: comfort food. I like mine with coconut milk, which gives the broth a silky, creamy texture, and David likes it with beef to give the dish some protein-based substance. I’ve tried a number of different recipes, and this one is based on the Chiang-Mai Curry recipe from Naomi Duguid and Jeffrey Alford’s lovely book Hot Sour Salty Sweet. Many of the ingredients their original recipe are difficult for me to find on a typical Saturday shopping trip, so I’ve adapted the recipe for what I can easily buy from my local grocer. My version is quick and easy, but I often wish that I made my own curry paste–I haven’t been able to find a store-bought version that I really love. Maybe in another life. If you’re interested in making your own, you should check out Thai cook extraordinaire Chez Pim; she has many versions with excellent instructions for the pounding of the curry.

If you’re looking for an Asian dish to try, this might be a good choice–it’s not any more difficult than chicken soup, and it’s much more flavorful. The fried noodles on top are completely optional–Duguid and Alford’s recipe calls for them, and I like the extra crunch. Also, you may need to adjust the amount of curry paste depending on how spicy you like your food and how hot the curry paste you use is. A good way to decide is to start with less and taste; you can always add more later. Here’s the method:

Curried Noodles

12 ounces egg noodles, 1 cup reserved if you’re frying them

1 T. peanut oil

4 cloves garlic, minced

2 serrano chilies, minced (seeded if you don’t like your food too spicy)

1 t. turmeric

1 T. sugar

3/4 pound beef, small-diced (meat cut for a stew works fine)

1 1/2 T. red curry paste

14 ounces coconut milk

1/2 cup water

3 T. fish sauce

2 limes

Cilantro, for garnish

Other optional garnishes: bean sprouts, slivered ginger, shredded cabbage, crushed peanuts

Cook the noodles until tender; drain, and set aside. In a very large skillet, sauté the garlic, chilies, and turmeric in the oil until the garlic is tender but not brown, about 4 minutes. Add the beef, sugar, and curry paste, stirring frequently until the beef is coated with the paste mixture and begins to turn brown. Add the coconut milk, water, and fish sauce. Simmer for 20-30 minutes. Taste and adjust seasonings if necessary. Stir in the juice of 1 lime before serving. While the curry is simmering, you can fry the reserved noodles in 1 cup peanut oil for about 1 or 2 minutes, until they turn golden brown. Salt immediately. To serve, fill bowls with egg noodles. Ladle the curry on, top with cilantro and fried noodles, and garnish with lime wedges and any other toppings you like.

You know that feeling you get when it’s about an hour after dinner and you just NEED something sweet? Whenever that craving strikes at our house, I usually ransack the pantry, knowing all the while that I’ll not find anything. But, if, by some chance, I happen to have a banana and some ice cream, my night gets a whole lot better.

Aunt Jennifer, for whom I was named, gave this recipe to me in the Aunts’ Recipe Book when I got married. On the recipe card beside the title–Bananas Foster–she wrote in parentheses: our favorite dessert! After I made it the first time, I knew why. She and I share that love of very, very sweet things, and this dessert fits that description perfectly. If you don’t like your treats ultra-sweet, this is not the dish for you. But, if you do, here’s the easiest dessert I know how to make! I copy the recipe verbatim from Aunt Jennifer because it has not once failed me:

Bananas Foster

bananas, split lengthwise

cup of brown sugar

1/2 stick butter

dash of cinnamon

Melt butter in pan. Add brown sugar and stir until smooth and un-grainy. Put bananas in gently and heat through. Sprinkle cinnamon on. Serve over really good vanilla ice cream.

I have lived in Louisiana for almost three months now. In the course of the last one, my new state has been hit by two hurricanes. The response from the American community on the whole has been overwhelming; so much money has been given to the Red Cross, and so many people have turned their outrage into positive energy through the act of giving. In the food blogger world, as a matter of fact, Adam of The Amateur Gourmet is hosting a cook-off of sorts to raise money for the hurricane victims. The contestants have been cooking New Orleans-style food, and it all looks fabulous (you should check out the beignets and vote for your favorite).

Although I am not an official part of the festivities, this sandwich is the one that comes to my mind when I think of New Orleans. My mother, a Louisiana native, has a particular affinity for muffalattas (I have no idea whether I’m spelling that correctly–don’t tell my students!), so I think of her when I make them. You can buy olive salad in the grocery store, but I really like to mix up my own. The best muffalattas I’ve had are crunchy on the outside and warm and gooey on the inside, so I attempted to recreate that texture with this one.

If you haven’t ever eaten in New Orleans, please put it on your list of things to do when the city is rebuilt–it is a culinary city like no other. In the meantime, perhaps you can bring a little of the Crescent City into your kitchen with these sandwiches (or with the po’boys and beignets cooked up by the contestants and their coaches on Adam’s site–go William, Melissa, and Jason!).

Muffalattas and Oven Fries

1 potato per person (fries don’t keep well)

Rosemary, minced

3 cloves garlic, minced

Olive oil

Kosher salt

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees. Wash and dry the potatoes; slice them into fry-like wedges. Place them on a baking sheet and toss with oil, so that the wedges are coated on both sides. Sprinkle with rosemary and garlic. Bake for 20 minutes; then flip the potatoes and bake for 10-15 minutes more. Meanwhile, prepare the sandwiches.

1 loaf crusty French bread

Genoa salami

Ham

Provolone cheese

1 cup green olives

1/2 cup black olives

3 cloves garlic

Fresh oregano, a few sprigs

Olive oil

Combine the olives, garlic, and oregano in the food processor until very finely minced. Drizzle with a little olive oil (about a teaspoon) to bind, and pulse a few times. Carve out the top of the bread loaf, leaving the sides in tact (so that the filling doesn’t spill out). Remove the top and fill with the olive mixture. Line with Provolone slices, salami, and ham, and then drizzle the inside with a little more olive oil. Replace the top of the sandwich and wrap in foil. Bake in the oven with the potatoes for about 10-12 minutes, until the cheese is melted and the outside is crunchy. Cut into sandwich portions and serve with the fries, which should be crispy on the outside by now. Sprinkle them with Kosher salt. And, if you’re so inclined, this meal works nicely with Abita beer, bottled right here in Louisiana. Eat, drink, and think of New Orleans.

When I was making my first attempts at meal planning, I often ended up buying lots of ingredients that I used only a little of, and then I wouldn’t know what to do with the rest before it went bad. This resulted in expensive grocery bills and a crowded fridge. One of the ways that I learned to compensate for such excess was to plan a week’s worth of meals using similar ingredients and flavors. Planning this way also allowed me to become comfortable with one method of regional cooking by practicing on it for a whole week. Italian week was one of my earliest themed endeavors, and it has stuck around. Tomato-based sauce is so versatile, and so I make a ton of it at the beginning of the week, and use it for different dishes as the week goes on. This week’s menu also serves to prove that I can, indeed, go at least one week without cooking chicken!

Here’s the basic sauce recipe, and then, as the week continues, I’ll tell you how I modify it:

Oven-Roasted Tomato Sauce

3-4 large tomatoes, chopped

Olive oil

Kosher salt

Cracked black pepper

1 large yellow onion, chopped

4-5 cloves garlic, chopped

1 28-ounce can crushed tomatoes (I like the Contadina roasted garlic ones)

Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Arrange the tomatoes on foil-lined baking sheets in a single layer. Drizzle olive oil onto the sheets, and then toss with your hands to make sure all the pieces are coated with oil. Sprinkle liberally with salt and pepper. Roast for about 45 minutes, until beginning to blacken around the edges and fall apart. Meanwhile, heat 1 tablespoon of oil in a large saucepan (this will hold all of the sauce, so use a big one). Add the chopped onion and garlic and cook over medium-low heat until very soft, but not brown–about 20 minutes. Season with salt and pepper. If they soften before the tomatoes are done, turn the heat off. When the tomatoes are done, scrape them and all their juices

into the pan with the onion and garlic. Turn the heat back up to medium-low, and stir, pressing the tomatoes with the back of your spoon to crush them. Add the canned tomatoes, and simmer this mixture for about 20 minutes.

This sauce will serve as the foundation for all the other mixtures this week. For the lasagna, you will need about 1 1/2 to 2 cups of sauce.

Italian Sausage Lasagna

1 1/2 pounds Italian sausage links (I buy a package of 5 links and use 2 1/2 of them)

2 cups oven-roasted tomato sauce

9-12 uncooked lasagna noodles

1 cup ricotta cheese

1 pkg. sliced provolone (6-8 ounces)

2 cups shredded mozzarella

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

Remove the sausage links from their casings, and cook in a large skillet over medium heat until brown, breaking them into small pieces as you cook. Drain off all but about a teaspoon of the grease from the sausage, and add the tomato sauce to the skillet. Cook and stir for about 5 minutes, so that the flavors are combined.

Cover the bottom of a rectangular baking dish with 1/4 of the sausage-sauce mixture. Lay 3-4 noodles directly into the sauce, pressing a bit to make sure they are nestled down nicely in the liquid. Onto each noodle, spoon a few dollops of ricotta cheese. Lay Provolone slices on top of the ricotta, pressing to flatten it. Cover the Provolone with sauce, and start the layers over again. End with the ricotta, and cover the whole dish with the shredded mozzarella. Cover tightly with foil and bake for about an hour, until the cheese is beginning to brown around the edges and bubble.

This is an easy recipe to double and either freeze or take to a neighbor or friend. If we were in Jackson, I’d take the second one to Jessie and Jerrod, but we aren’t, so I took it over to my next-door neighbors who have been housing refugees from New Orleans. I usually make it in a disposable aluminum pan, cover with foil, and write the cooking directions on the foil. That way, the recipient can cook it whenever she feels like it, or freeze it for another occasion.

Reserve the rest of the sauce for the linguine marinara, calzone, and eggplant parmesan.

I love to make quesadillas. I love the idea of making an interesting filling, placing it in a tortilla, frying it, and voila! — a crispy, melt-in-your-mouth-good combination of flavors. This recipe is inspired partly by the Black Bean Enchiladas in Intercourses, which are also delish, but more labor-intensive and partly by a smoky black bean pizza that the pizza chef at the Brick-Oven used to make. For these, you just need some good salsa, leftover chicken, a can of black beans, some bacon, and some cheese. My husband really likes these, and the filling makes enough to have plenty of leftovers.

For the filling:

6 slices bacon

1/2 yellow onion

1 cup chopped green onion

4 cloves garlic, chopped finely

Chicken (I had 2 breasts leftover from grilling, so I used them, chopped, but shredded cooked chicken would also work)

1 can black beans, drained

1/2 cup salsa

Monterey Jack cheese (with peppers if you like spicy)

Tortillas (burrito-sized work well, but if you have the smaller ones, just use 2, instead of folding them in half)

In a skillet, cook the bacon slices until done. Remove, and drain off all but about a tablespoon of the grease, and sauté the onions and garlic over medium-low (be careful not to let the garlic burn). Add the diced chicken, black beans, and salsa. Cook over low for about 10 minutes, until you can begin to mash up the beans to get a good, thick consistency. Crumble in the reseved bacon. Remove the filling from the skillet. Fill tortillas with the chicken mixture and top liberally with cheese. Fry the tortillas in a little bit of oil (I use the same skillet–mindful always of my sweet husband who cleans up my messes!). Serve with salsa and guacamole (Ina Garten’s recipe in The Barefoot Contessa is my favorite–chunky, with lots of lemon and salt). The citrusy flavor of the guacamole works well with the smoky intensity of the quesadillas. We like to drink a spicy wine with a meal like this also–Zinfandel is our favorite. Or, of course, margaritas if we don’t have school the next day. Tequila and early mornings, in my experience, are not a favorable combination, but hey, if it works for you. . .