Showing posts with label food. Show all posts
Showing posts with label food. Show all posts

Wednesday, November 24, 2021

A Rafter of Turkeys - Happy Thanksgiving

charlie the attack turkey 20061122

 A group of turkeys is called a rafter because they like to roost in building rafters if they can find them. Otherwise, they will fly up into tree branches at night to sleep in safety.

Wild turkeys are native to North America. The Spanish brought them to Europe in 1519, so REVENA would not have had turkey on her dinner table. She would have chicken, partridge, geese, duck, and pheasant.

What might be the menu of one of REVENA's holiday meals? 

Menu items: pickled vegetables, cabbage chowder, creamed fish, roasted venison, mushroom pasties, mutton stew, haddock in brown ale, cherry, plum, and pear compote, custard tarts and pudding, and mulled wine. And bread.

You can find the recipes for these medieval foods on The British Museum's blog or check out Castle Life - Medieval Food & Cooking.

Here are the members of my rafter from oldest to most recent. This year's version is at the bottom.


turkey soylent green 20071122

turkey tail_thumb 20091123

turkey color 20091125

turkey relax 20101125

turkey glove 20131127

turkey nekked 20131128

turkey race 20171023

turkey parade rest inflated 20171122

turkey run forrest run 20171123

turkey dressed for the kill 20171123

turkey visitor 20180320


turkey collage 20181122

turkey cock of the walk 20191128

turkey zendangle 20201126

turkey purple nurple 20211124

Sunday, November 07, 2021

Favorite Childhood Feel-Good Foods

 


I associate specific foods with certain people. All of my comfort foods come matrilineally. 

My Uroma (we’re Austrian on my mother’s side) lived in a communal farmhouse called Kaserermühl along the Mühlbach (mühl means mill.) She was born in 1891. When I stayed with her, she had the baker deliver Salzstangerl for me for breakfast. Uroma made the best broths, clear and rich with flavor.

My Oma and I went to the butcher often because back then you bought your food fresh for the day’s meals. He always had Leberkäse, still warm from the oven between two slices of fresh bread, ready for me for our visits. On really special occasions, we went to the Konditorei in Hallein for a Heiße Liebe (Hot Love), warm raspberry sauce over vanilla ice cream.

My mother bequeathed me Zúckerbrot, bread, butter, and sugar, a combination that is better than any drug to calm and soothe. She gave us Schmandi, eggs, milk, and a little flour cooked in butter and topped with sugar. I have yet to find it on the internets. The closest I have gotten so far is the Kaiserschmarrn, but that’s way more work than our humble fare.

I’ve given my daughter Sick Peoples’ Soup, basically a chicken broth egg drop soup with cream of wheat that I made her the many times she wasn’t feeling well. 

My grandson requests a plain toasted bagel topped with whipped cream cheese and cut into 6ths. According to him, this is perfection.

What do you consider the perfect feel-good food?

Sunday, June 07, 2020

The Briny Deep

"She loves the serene brutality of the ocean, loves the electric power she felt with each breath of wet, briny air." - Holly Black 'Tithe'

Canning weights. I like pretty, shiny things.

A year ago, I attempted to brine some carrots, for probiotics.

I used pre-sliced carrots. I was lazy. Everything I read told me not to use them. They wouldn't come out well.
They didn't. They tasted like soap. But I think there's lots of bacteria growing in there.

It could be carrots weren't the best choice, or that the chlorine wash killed the good bacteria, or the jar was wrong.

But I really wanted to do this, so I bought a canning kit.
A pretty canning kit because I need pretty things.
A beautiful wooden tamper for things like sauerkraut. Glass weights, lids that allow the gases to escape during the fermenting process, hemp ties, and tags.

And here are the beautiful Wide Mouth Ball jars, 32 ounce size.

I'm fermenting cucumbers and radishes this time.
Three Chinese cucumbers filled two jars.
The brine is very simple. Two tablespoons of Kosher salt and four cups of water.
It wasn't until just now that I found out I put the weights in upside down. The flat side is meant to go down as the groves are handles to lift the weights out of the jars.
I didn't think I had very many radishes, but they filled one jar perfectly.
Weighted, before sealing.
Sealed and ready for three days of "no touchy."
They are in a pan because they might bubble over.
Let the countdown begin.

Sunday, September 18, 2016

built like a brick house

Lancaster, PA, (pronounced LANK-aster with the middle part distinct yet said together by the locals) was originally called Hickory Town and is one of the oldest inland cities in the United States. The center of town, a single block of mostly brick buildings, is formed by King Street, Queen Street, Orange Street and Prince Street. These names hearken back to a time when we were still The Colonies.


The corner of King Street and Queen Street forms the bottom left corner of The Box, a square circle with a monument in the middle.



There is parking on the edges of the streets but those spaces were quickly taken. I parked in one of the convenient parking lots in the middle of the block. The price for my short Sunday stay was $6.00 for less than two hours.

I parked, grabbed my Shunk backpack filled with my iPad and notebook along with my camera and phone and headed for King Street where I picked one of the many restaurants in the area to have brunch.

I immediately found Steinman Park, a hidden garden created by the surrounding buildings. It’s a brick courtyard with outdoor seating for eating called The Pressroom. A beautiful fountain formed the base end with a bar off to the side. The fountain end had raised bar tables, the area closest to the entrance had regular height tables.




 When I got there around eleven am, only one outdoor table was occupied. I took pictures, found a table right near the fountain and settled in. I ordered a virgin Bloody Mary and coffee and Scallops and CornedBeef with a Poached Egg to eat (they forgot the corned beef, but I didn’t notice until I wrote this.) They were playing 70’s and 80’s music at just the right sound level. My Bloody Mary tasted like a shrimp cocktail. Perfect amount of horseradish.




Kevin, my waiter/bartender, was friendly, efficient and attentive without hovering.

After dining, I walked around the block filled with quaint shops and plenty of eateries.






Lancaster is definitely worth a re-visit. 

Sunday, August 28, 2016

Tomcatting in PA

If you ever find yourself in Sinking Spring, Pennsylvania, (near Reading) you have to have breakfast at The Tomcat Cafe'. This place will rock your socks off. All they do is breakfast. But man, oh, man, alive, what breakfasts they do.



It's in a small corner house and it is small. Be prepared to wait. But it's worth the wait. And I don't like to wait. You might need to sit outside for half an hour. There are benches and something bean bag toss games. Plus a busy street to watch. 

They will be renovating starting in the beginning of September, but not increasing in size. I figure they seat about 60 people in this little place.  

It's got a kitschy music vibe, but don't expect to hear any tunes. All you'll get is a loud human buzz.




Wall paintings in the ladies' bathroom.

The cooks and the waitresses in this place are some of the hardest working people I've ever seen. And very friendly. They run around like crazy and still manage to smile.

The menu is huge. It's eight pages of small print. Each item has a catchy sort of name and there are no substitutions along you can build your own omelette. The prices are very reasonable, too. We were five people and it cost $70 without tip. 

My daughter had a Brass Monkey: pancakes topped with caramelized bourbon bananas and walnuts. There are sweet offerings and savory tastes. I usually want three different things. It's so hard to choose. Check out the online MENU HERE.

This time (my second visit) I had a bread bowl: It Really Tied the Room Together: shrimp, lump crab, asparagus, tomatoes and scrambled eggs topped with a white wine tarragon dijon cream sauce.










Saturday, July 04, 2015

food fantasies


My favorite food is my mother’s spaghetti. Spaghetti noodles topped with a sauce more beefy than tomatoey. Definitely not Italian in nature. At least, not that I know of. My mother was Austrian which I think has a more meat heavy food culture than the Italians.

She would brown a couple of onions and garlic with a lot ground beef. Crusty brown. The kind of brown that leaves tasty bits on the pan. Then some tomato sauce was added. The resulting sauce was more brown than red and very thick and heavy.

An ice cold glass of milk was a mandatory accompaniment. Yummers.

Leftover spaghetti noodles were used the next day to make a decadent treat. Bread crumbs browned in butter get the noodles added in to warm. Top this with sugar and you’re in carb heaven.

Lots of things got covered in butter browned breadcrumbs.

Zwetschgenknödel are German potato plum dumplings. We didn’t get them very often because they are really hard work but when she did make them, she made loads and we gorged. A mashed potato dough was wrapped around a pitted, ripe plum and boiled. Once cooked, these dumplings were rolled in brown butter breadcrumbs and topped with sugar.

Cauliflower heads got topped with brown butter breadcrumbs, too. No sugar, though.

When she fried foods, like chicken, I would steal the browned flour/breadcrumbs in the pan. That is unless the now flavored oil wasn’t needed to fry up some potato pancakes. She always put some butter in the oil to give it extra flavor.

We ate pancakes, too. My vision of breakfast always includes pancakes, especially blueberry pancakes. I could go for some blueberry pancakes right now, with some bacon or ham or both. All drenched in melted butter and maple syrup. Add some home fries with lots of onions and garlic and you’ve got breakfast perfection.

My father used to make homemade ice cream. He had an old-fashioned ice cream maker that he had to crank forever. It seemed like hours before the ice cream would be done. He’d put strawberries in it. I preferred plain vanilla but fresh strawberries weren’t too bad.

My father’s favorite dessert is strawberry shortcake. My mother cut up tons of strawberries and marinated them in lots of sugar so there was plenty of sweet juicy liquid with the berries. Then she baked Bisquick as a sheet cake. This was cut warm, topped with the cold sweet berries and juice and freshly made whipped cream.

Food was so good before we all had to get healthy.

I always have a craving for something and I never know what it is. I like eating appetizers at restaurants because I’m always searching for a certain taste to satisfy this vague, elusive hunger I have for something. I wonder if I had a table in front of me laid out with fifty distinctly different foods and I nibbled on all of them would I be satisfied.

Nothing ever quite hits the mark though.

I suspect I’m trying to satisfy the wrong hunger.

Monday, March 02, 2015

#Menu #Monday #Food #Planning

Yesterday:

Meatloaf: QV, my husband, made two last month. We froze one. Brown gravy. Roasted butternut squash and golden potatoes: sprinkled with Italian dressing mix. Crescent rolls baked in cupcake tins with fresh blueberries and honey, topped with whipped cream.

Leftover meatloaf makes lunchbox sandwiches.

Monday:

Crockpot sweet and sour pineapple pork chops, green and wax beans and carrots over rice.

Tuesday:

Taco pie. Spicy ground turkey in a mashed potato pie crust topped with fresh onions, tomatoes, cheddar cheese and sour cream.

Wednesday:

Crockpot Italian chicken thighs over pasta with rolls. Broccoli. Because Wednesdays are spaghetti night. I have no idea where that rule came from because it wasn't my mother's habit.

Leftovers are frozen for a future meal.

Thursday:

Cabin stew with biscuits. Ground beef, black-eyed peas, beefy onion mix, diced tomatoes, mixed vegetables and red wine. Travels well and is hearty and tasty.

Leftovers are frozen for a future meal.

Friday:

Crescent roll pizza pockets. Tonight is pizza night but my father doesn't like our local pizza places. I made pizza pockets last Saturday in Pillsbury pizza dough and they were a big hit. The dough was annoying though so I'm trying crescent rolls this time.

Saturday:

Bread fish and steak fries. Baby peas. Too-Tired-To-Cook Night.

Friday, May 16, 2014

Foodie Friday - Devishly Good Meatballs

I mentioned these in my post called Thursday’s 3rd° under Yummy Foods I Make.

They are called Devilishly Good Meatballs because they are sinfully good, they contain beer and the ingredients come in 666 amounts. 



6 quart slow cooker (Turn it on high to heat that sucker up.)

6 pounds, fully cooked, frozen, Italian style, cocktail size meatballs (I think they are 5/8 of an ounce.) You can call them hors d'oeuvres size if you are the snooty type. My aunt, who originally gave me this recipe, made the meatballs from scratch and you can do that if you are an overachiever, but your efforts will not make them taste any better.

60 ounces ketchup (Use Heinz because I own stock in the company. No, see there I lied. Sorry.)

6 times 4 ounces of beer (QV says I am "wasting" his beer but so is he, really, when he drinks it.)

6 dashes of garlic powder (I like garlic, so I add lots and since everyone will eat it, the kissing later won't be too awful. Oh, you know you have those kinds of parties.)

6 shakes of onion powder (Make sure you are not using garlic salt or onion salt. You will get plenty of salt in the ketchup and blowing up like a water filled balloon is not attractive at parties.)

Start this as early in the morning as possible. I usually begin them around 6am.

Open the bag of frozen meaty balls. Dump them in the slow cooker. Put the lid on.

In a big sauce pot, empty the entire contents of the ketchup bottle. Pop open a beer. (Drink it if you have relatives coming over during the day. If you do this step, you'll need extra beer.)

Open another bottle of beer. Pour some in the ketchup bottle, put the lid on and shake the bottle. This is so much fun. When you open the bottle, ketchup will explode all over the kitchen. I guess I should have warned you, huh? Pour the fizzy beer from the ketchup bottle into the sauce pot. Add the rest of the beer from the can. (We use both bottled and canned beer in our house, at the same time.) Add a second bottle of beer to the ketchup in the pot.

If you like things on the milder side don't add the garlic and onion powders. Otherwise, shake in however much you like. I do about a good heaping tablespoon of each. Use a whisk and swirl it around.

Turn on the flame and boil it for a few minutes, mostly just to make it hot. You don't want to cook out all of the alcohol. You'll need to calm the children down later. Oh, and watch out for the lava like bubbles that can erupt on the surface.

Pour the hot sauce over the meaty balls. Ooops, I forgot to tell you to uncover the slow cooker first. That's what beer at the crack of dawn does to you. Cover the slow cooker back up when you have the sauce in there.

Leave it on high for a couple of hours, then turn it down to low for another six. They will then be ready to eat at 2pm, which is perfect for me, because I am usually napping by then and my guests can take care of themselves.

The longer they cook, the better they taste. I would try to describe the flavor but it can't be done. They do not taste like ketchup and they do not taste Italian. They are truly different.

Eat them on club rolls or by themselves, so you can eat more of them.

They freeze well too but you really won't have any left. People will take them home if they haven't eaten them all.



Sunday, September 01, 2013

"F" Food

"Cornucopia"
opaque watercolor on pressboard
July, 2009

“F” Food


Food is fuel.
Food is fun.
Food is flavorful.
Food can be fattening.
Food can be fatal.
Food can be frightening.
Food is family.
Food is a fiesta.
Food is fabulous.
Food is filling.
Food is feeling.
Food is fault.
Food is faithless.
Food is familiar.
Food can be a fad.
Lack of food can make you fade.
Too much food can make you fade.
Food can be a friend.
Food can be a fiend.
Food finds me feverishly looking for freedom.
Food is fuel.






Oopsy!


a woman tried to do her wifely deed
by making a fresh batch of mead
she made it quite strong
which might have been wrong
since her hubby fell from his steed

You Can Play Limerick-Off Monday Here