Ruth Reichl's Blog, page 4

A Country Weekend

It's the weekend.  And you are - if only in your dreams - in the country.  In June 1984 Gourmet offered a few recipes to celebrate summer. 

I particularly like the idea of this cold lettuce soup - accompanied by what were - at the time - very racy hot pepper toasts.  Today I'd probably use Sriracha - and top them with some of the fresh hot peppers which are starting to fill the stands at the farmers market.

And for dessert - how about this frozen cappuccino?  You'll note two things about this retro recipe: it was long before the coffee craze, so it asks for nothing more than instant coffee powder.  (The truth is that instant espresso powder was a Gourmet staple for years.)  It also predates the egg crisis, when salmonella became a household word, so while the whites remain raw the recipe lacks the now-ubiquitous warning about danger lurking in uncooked eggs.  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Cowless Curds

It���s 1952 and Gourmet columnist Lawton Mackell is about to try tofu for the first time. The host of Ho-Ho restaurant, George Seto, has persuaded him to deviate from his usual favorite, winter melon soup, and order dow fo choy sum instead. What follows, under the title ���Cowless Curds" is pure delight - and a reminder that the magazine was ahead of the curve in acknowledging New York's culinary diversity: 

���Abandoning the idea of winter melon soup, a specialty which the Ho Ho���s chef does superbly, I put my soup fate into their hands. Result: Chinese tureen of dow fo choy sum��� clear, flavorful chicken broth containing sliced water chestnuts, hearts of bok choy (Chinese cabbage), julienne of pork, and quite a few cubes of delicate bean curd.  Though the admission came hard, honesty compels me to acknowledge that the opaque white cubes were as fascinating in taste and texture as the translucent green ones of my yearning and that the soup was an equal success.

 I was puzzled, though, by soy bean���s ability to be always dark in soy sauce and always snow-white in curd.  Host George explained that soy sauce, besides being a vehicle for salt, contains caramel. The curd, on the other hand, is made from crushed bean sans coloring.  It comes from the manufacturers in square flat cakes which, even under refrigeration, deteriorate within twenty-four hours. Hence, they are a rarity in restaurants anywhere outside the radius of an active Chinese colony. I might add that cubed curd melts in the mouth."

 

More Vintage Ads from the Fifties

 

Sometimes the ads are as interesting as the editorial.

We're still in 1951, here, still in that same issue of Gourmet.  I don't think I need to explain why each of these ads delights me.  Although it's possible you'll miss that little line in the Blue Nun ad about vintage 1937 Auslese. Blue Nun, incidentally, was the largest international wine brand in the fifties. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

What is a Fireplace Oyster?

Sorry - can't seem to get enough of this January 1951 issue of Gourmet.  There's a delight - and a riddle - on every page.

Consider, for example, this ad for "fireplace oysters" from the "oldest oyster cultivators in U.S.A."  I hoped that the J & JW Elsworth Company was still cultivating their oysters, but the only oystermen I could find in Greenport Long Island were Little Creek Oyster and Widow's Hole.  Neither, sadly, offer "fireplace oysters." I did discover that Fireplace Oysters were served at the Plaza Hotel in 1951 - presumably from the Elsworths.  But I could not find a single other reference to this particular creature.  If anybody has any information on them, I'm curious. 

 

Then there was this interesting ad for a "yogurt incubator"; who knew Americans were making their own yogurt in 1951?

And finally, a recipe I find hilarious for so many reasons.  Dating from a time when skinless, boneless chicken parts were not a supermarket staple, a time when white bread stood in for rice, it's hard to imagine that this simple dish was actually served in a restaurant. Should you be wondering about that "Key Sauce," it's nothing other than a Pakistani brand of soy sauce.  (My guess is that it's made mostly from water, sugar and caramel coloring, but I couldn't find a picture of the back of the bottle.)

And then, just for fun, an interesting remedy for ailing cats.

 

 

As Promised....

Without any fanfare, here is the Angel's Tit as published by Gourmet in 1951.  I can hardly think of anything that sounds worse.

Well, to be honest, these other Angel Drinks sound equally loathsome.

There were, however, some really good suggestions in this issue - often in the form of ads.  This, for instance:

Since I've become increasingly interested in whole grain, stone-ground flours, I went online to see what I could find out about Bear's Mill.  I was expecting nothing - but I was wrong. Bear's Mill is still a working grist mill, still grinding flour, still selling it.  There is, it seems, some hope.

And then I found this: an ad for the first electric coffee grinder.

 I happen to have one, and like it very much.  Kitchen Aid started making this retro model again about ten years ago.  Apparently it was not a huge success and the model is now discontinued. But you can still find it in a few places.  Here, for instance. 

And then there is this interesting ad.  My mother used to buy ripe black olives, but it's been years since I've even thought about those bland black orbs. This recipe brought back a sharp taste memory; I'm pretty sure my mother once made this dish.

 

A Few Blasts from the Past

It's 1951 in Gourmetland, and Chiquita Banana is wiggling her hips (and cooking with coconut), men are (to everyone's apparent amazement) washing up,

and inquiring minds want to know how to cook peacocks.

 

Tomorrow, from this same issue, a recipe for haunch of wild chamois and, I kid you not, a drink called "Angel's Tit."

Something Fishy from the Past: Eel Mania

It would be hard to imagine a mainstream epicurean magazine running an entire feature on eel recipes - but that's exactly what I found in the August 1951 issue of Gourmet.  After an opening ode to the eel, the magazine offered a number of recipes.  I liked these two best:

And in case you've been thinking that Rheingold was the only beer that ever advertised in Gourmet, here's a word from their competition.

My Favorite Weed

Purslane!

I love this crisp, juicy, slightly lemony green - and I was thrilled to find it at the farmer's market today.

To my mind purslane makes every salad taste better - simply wash it well (the leaves tend to cling to dirt, so don't be careless about this), and strip the leaves right into the bowl alongside your garden-variety salad greens.  It makes terrific tacos, quickly steamed,  stirred into a quick green salsa and topped with queso fresco.  Steamed and mixed with tomatoes and olives, it makes a fine Moroccan salad. 

But today, I think, I'm going to mix it into a cucumber and tomato salad with a very lemony vinaigrette.

Begin by peeling, seeding and dicing a few cucumbers until you have about 2 cups.  Dice a pound or so of tomatoes, until you have an equal amount.  Add some chopped scallions or a half of a diced red onion, and a cup and a half of coarsely chopped purslane leaves. 

Now stir in a cup of chopped Italian parsley and then mix it all with a lemony vinaigrette (2 tablespoons of lemon juice whisked into 3 tablespoons of olive oil, along with salt and pepper). If I have the time, I think I'll add a few whole pieces of lemon as well, although peeling lemon sections can be annoyingly time-consuming.

Past Peppers

You and I are going to live longer!  

That's the takeaway from a new scientific report that eating spicy food reduces your risk of death by ten percent.  If you're a hot food fan - and that includes just about everyone I know - this is great news.

But it turns out that Gourmet got there first.  Trolling through a vintage issue of the magazine, I came upon this article on chili peppers - an upbeat users manual - in a thirty-one year old issue (June 1984).

Carolyn Dille and Susan Belsinger walk us through a market in Guadalajara, describing the different notes of each pepper they come across. It���s totally instructional. Better yet, they offer this very appealing recipe for a corn and chili pepper souffl��. 

 

The authors throw in a well-meaning (if patronizing) note of caution. Their disclaimer: 

���Some cautionary notes are in order for novice chili pepper consumers. In cultures where large amounts are eaten, people develop a tolerance for their pungency.  The best way to achieve this tolerance is to begin by eating small amounts frequently.  If you are not accustomed to eating hot peppers, consuming a large amount at one time can cause a great deal of unpleasantness." 

Related articles

The Intriguing Link Between Spicy Food and a Longer Life
Eating Spicy Food Protects Against Premature Death

Things I Love: Roe Rocks My Boat

This is Mentaiko - spiced pollack roe.  Originally Korean, it's become a Japanese staple. I think of it as soft Asian bottarga with a little chile kick.  And I use it in almost everything I'd use bottarga in. Sometimes it stands in for uni, although more for texture than for flavor, and it makes a really delicious pasta dish.  You can find mentaiko at most Asian markets; I bought mine at Sunrise Mart.

But my favorite way to eat mentaiko?  Very simply.  Squeeze the roe out of the sac onto a small bowl of hot rice and mix like crazy.  

If you're looking for a good pasta recipe, here's one I like very much from Grace Keh: it's not only an excellent recipe, but a very good explanation of exactly what to expect when you're using mentaiko.

And while we're on recipes I like.... A recent post on Zester about savory peaches intrigued me too much to resist. I've never thought of using peaches as if they were a vegetable and the result was really fantastic.  The peaches I used were hard as rocks - so hard I peeled them like apples - but in the end they were tender, fragrant and absolutely delicious.  If you've never thought about peaches with ginger and garlic, they're a fine surprise.  They made a perfect accompaniment to a bowl of spicy Chinese noodles.