Reason for comfort food

September 5 - 9:18 am (original post)

My husband – my fiercely independent and stoic husband – has been fighting an infection lately. We’re at the end of a month of hospitalizations, doctor appointments, and visits to three area emergency departments (you can tell someone who’s been in the hospital because they know to call it the ED instead of the ER). To top it off, my baby puppy (now 4 years old but you better not laugh at me) hurt himself jumping into the car yesterday. And when I say hurt, I mean screaming pain. Between Mr. Stoic and my baby, I finally fell apart yesterday.

But it’s always darkest before the dawn. I fell apart, gave all this crappy stuff back to God and asked for help with the practical details. I dropped Zaq off at the vet for a day of pampered observation (THANK YOU, Dr. Becky!), dropped Buster off at the office (YOU ARE AMAZING, Debbie!). Fought my way through lingering traffic to the huge teaching hospital to find that Mr. Stoic’s fever broke in the wee hours of the morning. Whew! He was discharged, prescriptions picked up, dogs picked up from the office and the vet. After a simple dinner, I fell into bed, exhausted. It’s strange how stress can just whip you physically.

Today is the first in a three-day weekend, which I need. It is the first day to start rebuilding Mr. Stoic and Zaq from their various medical challenges. Neither one of them are out of the woods, but I can take care of them better at home. Comfort food is definitely in order for all of us. Swedish pancakes this morning with Mr. Stoic’s Strawberry Freezer Jam were a good start. Later, I’ll make Dad’s Macaroni & Cheese. For us, it’s a step in the direction of familiarity, home, and health.

I call this "Dad's Macaroni & Cheese" not because he created the dish, but because I developed it for him. In my family, the best macaroni and cheese has a cheesy-crunchy top - not leathery as melted cheese can sometimes get - but light, crunchy and full of flavor (and layered over creamy pasta).

Dad’s Macaroni & Cheese

1 1/2 cups elbow macaroni

2 tbsp butter

2 tbsp flour

1 1/4 cups whole milk

1/4 tsp paprika (I add more)

dash of freshly-grated nutmeg

1/2 tsp freshly-ground white pepper

3 cups grated sharp cheese (I use Tillamook aged white cheddar)

generous handful of panko crumbs (a scant cup)

salt to taste

Hot sauce (Tabasco style)

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Boil macaroni according to package directions and drain. You want the pasta fairly al dente since you’re going to bake it further. Meanwhile, melt butter in a medium saucepan over low heat. Blend in flour, stirring constantly. Gradually stir in milk and cream. Cook, stirring constantly, until mixture boils and thickens, about 2-3 minutes. Remove from heat and add paprika, nutmeg, pepper and 2 cups of the cheese; stir until cheese is melted. Gently stir in macaroni and adjust seasoning to taste. Place in a buttered 1-quart casserole dish.

Toss panko crumbs with remaining grated cheese. Sprinkle over the top of the macaroni & cheese. Bake 25-30 minutes or until golden brown. Let sit for 5 minutes or so after removing from the oven. Serve with hot sauce on the side. Serves 4-6 (with no leftovers).

NOTES: I double this recipe most of the time, as the leftovers are sublime. A riff on this dish is to add a little protein (this is a trick from a fine Louisiana chef). After you get the mac and cheese into the casserole dish, gently stir in one beaten egg. Add panko crumb topping and bake. This dish is a great one to send over to a friend who's just had a baby or has been sick. Bag up the panko/cheese topping separately and have them add it just before the dish goes in the oven.

Dad came to visit

August 17 - 9:39 pm (original post)

My Dad came to visit last week. The last of his older brothers passed away and it was time for the memorial service. I didn't have much of a relationship with my uncle or his family when he was alive, but I learned during and after his memorial service what a great guy he was and how nice this part of the family.

I decided before he arrived that I wanted to present my Dad with the flavors of home that he might not be able to enjoy in his new home back east. Though I can get lost in the details sometimes, I was determined to stay relaxed and enjoy his visit - and I did.

Shooting high on the first meal, I made ciabatta bread to use for Torta rolls. Tortas are a Mexican sandwich - and a wonderful treat from my childhood. When I was a kid in San Diego, it seemed like Dad would find any excuse to go to Tijuana. He took cars to be worked on, bought bricks to use in landscaping the front median strip, had furniture reupholstered, hair cut, purchased tortillas by the kilo and bolillos by the dozen (at 4:00 pm, sharp). For those rare few of you who appreciate the crusty, chewy goodness that is a fresh bolillo, you know that they must be purchased when hot from the oven. Just what you need for that day and the next morning - like buying baguettes in Paris.

A torta makes use of a bolillo-like roll called Telera. It's flatter than a bolillo and usually has three sections. We supplemented the homemade ciabatta with a couple telera from a local Latin bakery. I flash-grilled ranchera de res, beef sliced so thin you can see through it, seasoned only with sea salt, cracked pepper and fresh lime juice. I chopped the meat into smaller pieces and piled it high on a platter. We assembled our own tortas at the dinner table with fresh avocado, mayonnaise (a classic torta ingredient), home-grown tomatoes, roasted jalapenos and... watercress.

Yeah, watercress. I'd planned to use rocket (arugula), which adds a spicy pepperiness to the sandwiches. Silly me, I thought I'd be able to find this vegetable at the store. I have before, so it made sense to think this ingredient would be available. Turns out the local stores now sell it in tiny packages, along with the other fresh herbs they carry (buying enough for a salad at those prices would set you WAY back). And when I say "local stores," I mean EVERY local store. I wanted rocket for my Daddy and I didn't get my way (take note as the princess stomps her virtual foot).

Watercress has a sort of radish-like tang to it. I skipped the fresh radishes I'd planned to serve on the side and stuck with the watercress. It was a judgment call I hope I don't have to make again. It worked, but just barely (and mostly because I had a friendly audience).

We had fried plantains to accompany the tortas. This is not another treat from my childhood, but something I've really enjoyed lately. Finally, we are seeing ripe plantains in local markets (yes, the same local markets that don't have arugula). I fried little mashed patties (a la Alton Brown - love ya, man!) and seasoned them lightly with sea salt. What a lovely fragrant side dish. Dad was enchanted!

Dessert is important to me, so I made a fresh peach cobbler that didn't turn out well. It's pretty hard to mess up anything with fresh peaches, so I served the best parts of the cobbler with a special huckleberry ice cream. I could tell you more, but then I'd have to kill you. Suffice it to say that the meal lived up to the company. We lingered around the table for hours. It was… well, it was unbelievably wonderful.

One more thing. I just have to share how much my Dad rocks. He introduced me to languages, foods, and a whole world that many of my suburban-safe friends never knew. I will always be grateful for the richness of those experiences - and I marvel still at how they are so foundational to who I am as an adult.

Berner Boys

August 10 - 10:03 pm (original post)

I often feel like my life is really fragmented. I have work, along with friends and acquaintances who know me only through work. I have church and all those wonderful saints who know me from there. There's the subgroup of musicians who know me through years of listening, playing, writing, recording and generally rocking out together. All you musicians out there know that you end up in various bands for various reasons. Things peter out after a while and you eventually find yourself playing with a new band.

Back to the subject, Ruth. Focus. There's home and family and hobbies. And there's these two furry boys that rest their giant chins on my lap and look soulfully into my eyes at every opportunity. They sit on my feet to make sure I don't go anywhere without them being the first to know. They cuddle with me when I'm trying to read my Bible in the morning or typing something on my laptop. Big paws and computer keyboards don't go together, I tell these gentle sweethearts. No, your paw cannot go there.

We have two Bernese Mountain Dogs. To put it more accuractly, they have us. They're not the biggest dogs out there, but they're on the large side. Buster, in particular, is pretty tall in the leg. My frame of reference has so shifted that I often have difficulty seeing small dogs when they're walking under my feet. Zaq is slightly smaller, but is long in the body. He's only 4 years old and bright as a shiny new penny.

Buster is eight and aging. The first white hairs have appeared on his muzzle. He still wants to be part of everything, but can't really keep up on the second long hike of the weekend - only the first. More and more, I'm treasuring the time we have together... especially these quiet moments when he lays at my feet, peaceful.

Buster is on the left and Zaq on the right. Buster is actually taller, but he is sitting down a bit on the riverbank.

10:03 PM