The Great Spaghetti Squash Massacre of 2008

Posted on by
2

I never made spaghetti squash, the Atkins-friendly faux pasta veggie with stringy Muppet hair strands, but it always appealed to me. One winter’s day in 2008, I decided to make spaghetti squash for the first time. Following directions meticulously (as I tend to do with new or unfamiliar things), I pierced the squash several times with a knife and stuck it in the microwave for ten minutes on high.

Sometime around minute eight, Logan walked by and stopped at the microwave. My microwave is mounted above my cook top and below my cabinet, roughly eye level. He asked me what I was making, and when I answered spaghetti squash, he brought his head closer to the microwave to peek in. At that very moment, the microwave door flew open with extreme force, hitting Logan directly in the head and spewing hot spaghetti squash all over him and the floor. It was a heart-stopping and slightly horrifying freak accident, but once we confirmed he did not receive a concussion or third degree burns, it became rather hilarious.

As much as we laughed, I can honestly say I had a bit of post-traumatic stress concerning the preparation of spaghetti squash. It wasn’t until I saw this recipe yesterday, a mere four years later, that I had any desire to try again. This time, I am roasting the spaghetti sauce in the oven per Martha’s method here. Yes, it takes much longer, but, hey, I have nothing better to do.

Cover veggies with enough butter and cheese and you’re probably going to love them; this dish is no exception. It’s also a great way to use up some of those leftover Thanksgiving herbs just sitting around looking pretty. I am very happy to report no injuries were sustained in the making of this recipe.

Roasted Spaghetti Squash with Parmesan and Herbs by Martha Stewart

Ingredients

  • 2 1/2 tablespoons unsalted butter
  • 2 shallots, diced small
  • 2 garlic cloves, minced
  • 1 teaspoon chopped fresh thyme leaves
  • 3/4 teaspoon chopped fresh rosemary leaves
  • 6 cups Roasted Spaghetti Squash
  • 1/4 cup chopped fresh parsley
  • 2 tablespoons grated Parmesan
  • Coarse salt and ground pepper

Directions:

In a large nonstick skillet, melt butter over medium. Add shallots and garlic and cook until softened, 7 minutes. Stir in thyme and rosemary and cook until fragrant, 1 minute. Add squash and toss to combine. Cook until warmed through. Stir in parsley and Parmesan and season with salt and pepper.

Snow Day Brownies

Posted on by
2

Hooray, it’s snowing! I woke up today to this beautiful scene outside my front door:

I can understand being sick of the snow around here by March, but if you’re complaining about the first beautiful snow in late November, I just feel sorry for you. This is a terrible thing to say, but here goes: If you hate snow and you hate dogs, I don’t know how we can ever be good friends. I will reluctantly allow you to hate one of those things, but never both.

Snow makes me want to bake, and I have my mom to thank for that. It’s hard for me to see snow and not automatically think, “Time to bake some brownies!” By now I have accepted that I have a penchant for the unusual, so when I saw David Lebovitz’s recipe for brownies with crushed Altoids, I knew I’d be incorporating that weirdness into my baking somehow. Sorry, can’t help myself. I combined two different recipes plus my own little touch to create the best snow day brownie ever.

I suppose you could omit the Altoids if you want to be boring or if you hate mint or if you don’t happen to have a pack of Altoids laying in your purse, but I really feel like their strong minty freshness adds that extra little touch of specialness to Snow Day Brownies.

Snow Day Brownies

1 1/4 cup sifted all purpose flour

1 teaspoon salt

1 teaspoon instant coffee

2 sticks unsalted butter

4 oz. unsweetened chocolate (this is usually two squares, but verify)

1/2 cup semi sweet chocolate chips

1 1/2 cup white sugar

1/2 cup brown sugar

4 eggs, room temperature

1 tin of Altoids (see above), finely crushed

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Line a 9 x 13 inch pan with foil and lightly spray with oil.

Whisk together flour and salt, and set aside. Finely crush Altoids in a freezer bag with a rolling pin (or similar method) and set aside. Over the simmering water of a double boiler, melt butter, chocolate, chocolate chips and instant coffee. Once smooth, remove from heat. In a large bowl, whisk together melted chocolate mixture and sugars until well combined. Add vanilla and four eggs, whisking in one at a time.

Gently fold in flour and Altoids, being very careful to not over mix. Spread in prepared pan and bake 30 minutes. Allow to cool completely before cutting.

Helpful hint: As soon as these brownies hit the oven, be sure to immediately soak all of your bowls and pans in hot soapy water so that you’re not tempted to consume 2000 calorie’s worth of delicious batter under the guise of “cleaning up.” It’s too late for me, but save yourself.

 

On Hostess Neurosis

Posted on by
5

My friend Sue recently introduced me to a delightful term especially applicable this time of year: Hostess Neurosis. I am sure it is something most readers have experienced at least once; I know I sure have.

Thanksgiving and I are in a complicated relationship. Early on in my hostessing career, I was plagued with much anxiety and perfectionism. While this doesn’t make for a happy, calm person, it certainly helps to produce an amazing overachiever-style meal to remember. Back then, I cooked like my life depended on it.

At some point in my early thirties, I snapped out of it and found what healthy people call perspective. I realized that people will still like me and love me even if I’m not perfect. Even if the stuffing is dry. Even if my silverware has water spots. Even if I’m not a size six.

The downside of this, of course, is that I’m no longer a size six. Ha, I kid! No, the real downside is that when you lose your anxiety, you also lose a lot of your desire to perform at the top level of every single thing in life because you’re in on the secret that it doesn’t really matter. Well, no, that’s not quite right. Things matter, but they start mattering for the right reasons. Things no longer matter out of fear of rejection, they matter because they are truly important to you. This knowledge frees you up a lot. And by you, I mean me.

It’s my long-winded way of saying Thanksgiving is still very important to me, but in a more normal way. I’ve never stopped working hard at planning Thanksgiving. I’ve never stopped making lists, and lists of lists, and attempting to serve The Best Thanksgiving Dinner You Ever Ate. I’m still a little competitive and I still care about doing a good job. It’s still a helluva lot of work and there’s no getting around that part. But finally I can say my Hostess Neurosis has evolved into basic garden variety Hostess Seasonal Stress curable with a little wine. In losing the perfectionism, I’ve lost some of the excellence it once produced, but I’ve gained a lot of joy in the production. I think that’s a pretty fair trade, and I’m thankful for that.

Perfectionism is the voice of the oppressor, the enemy of the people. It will keep you cramped and insane your whole life… I think perfectionism is based on the obsessive belief that if you run carefully enough, hitting each stepping-stone just right, you won’t have to die. The truth is that you will die anyway and that a lot of people who aren’t even looking at their feet are going to do a whole lot better than you, and have a lot more fun while they’re doing it. — Anne Lamott, Bird by Bird

 

 

Our Favorite Ragù alla Bolognese

Posted on by
1

There are as many recipes for ragu alla Bolognese as there are Italian Nonnas making them. For years, I did an adequate job with this sauce, but I always felt it was lacking a certain je ne sais quois (oops, wrong country). Then I read and reviewed Luisa Weiss’s book My Berlin Kitchen (wrong country again!) and tweaked my technique just enough to say with confidence that I’ve finally mastered this.

This is not Luisa’s recipe (and I’m only being clear about that since lately I’ve wound up with a lot of traffic from people who were searching for that recipe online); I have added garlic and crushed red pepper, as well as subtracted some of the meat. The spirit is the same, but the details are different. I do think it’s important to spring for canned whole San Marzano tomatoes (assuming you don’t have tomatoes plucked fresh from your garden, that is). One thing Luisa did drill in my head, however, is that the ultimate secret ingredient in this sauce is time. If you can start this before 11:00 am, you will have a happy family come dinner time.

Mama Dawn’s Ragu alla Bolognese

1 tablespoon olive oil

1 tablespoon butter

1 large onion, minced

1 clove of garlic, peeled and minced

2 large carrots, peeled and minced

1 pound of ground beef/pork blend, or meatloaf meat

1/2 cup red wine

1 28 ounce can peeled San Marzano tomatoes, pureed with juice in food processor

1/2 teaspoon crushed red pepper

1 teaspoon salt

In a food processor, finely chop onions, carrots and garlic clove. In a heavy sauce pan, such as the awesome Le Creuset your mom got you for Christmas last year that you love so much it hurts, melt the butter and olive oil. Add chopped carrots, onion and garlic and cook on medium high for about six minutes, until softened. Add the ground meat and cook for about ten minutes, until it is no longer pink and most of the liquid is cooked out. Add wine, and simmer for about five minutes. Add pureed tomatoes, salt, and crushed red pepper. Once bubbling, reduce heat to lowest setting, cover, and go on with your life. Every so often, give it a good stir. Let simmer between five and seven hours. Serve with favorite pasta and a nice glass of chianti.

The Peculiar Taste of Flintstones Vitamins

Posted on by
6

I heard a story on NPR yesterday morning about memories, but I’ve forgotten most of it already. This might be amusing if it wasn’t actually true. Yes, I can’t even remember any significant details about a story I heard on the topic of memory from one day ago. But I will summarize: You will get old, and your memory will start to suck. The end. I’m sure NPR used classier words, though.

I was always one of those annoying people who claimed to have memories from a freakishly early age. Except for other people who have freakishly early memories, most people don’t believe me, but I don’t know why not. What would I stand to gain by lying? After hearing this story, it did make me start to wonder if my earliest memories would eventually be purged, too. And it got me thinking about some of my remaining early memories. Most of them have to do with food or toys or other material goods. I will spare you my litany of unique personal memories, such as my father waking me up with his off-key rendition of, “Oh, What a Beautiful Morning,” (is there a better line than the corn is as high as an elephant’s eye?) or the opening orchestral strains of the original All My Children theme song, signaling my afternoon nap.

Here are some things I still remember from my early childhood. Perhaps you do, too?

Lemon Up Shampoo – While most of my friends remember the 1970s classic shampoo Gee, Your Hair Smells Terrific, I remember this old gem, usually perched next to the original green bottle of Clairol Herbal Essence.

Silly Putty – Oh, how I loved this stuff. Now that I’m a mother, I understand why my mother hated it. Essentially, it’s like flesh colored chewing gum, only more difficult to remove from carpeting. But an afternoon with a fresh egg of Silly Putty and the comics? Heaven.

Our red Dodge Dart Swinger – My dad always loved cars. I’m pretty sure our red Dodge Dart Swinger wasn’t the Lexus of its day, but I thought it was pretty cool, probably because it was red. Had I any idea what swinger meant, I would have been mortified, even at age four.

The shiny silver knobs of cigarette machines (the only thing available to play with while our father dragged us to new car dealerships for hours on end. See above.)  – When my kids complain that they’re bored, I tell them my only toy on a long Saturday afternoon was a cigarette machine, and that usually shuts them up.

Romper Stompers – Before you start feeling too sorry for me, please know I also had some real toys, such as Romper Stompers, which appear to have been designed by a personal injury attorney. These originally appeared on Romper Room, where Miss Louise NEVER said the name Dawn in her magic mirror, not even once. Thanks, Mom.

Flintstones Vitamins – I loved the edgy humor of The Flintstones cartoon, and I loved my daily chewable Flintstones vitamin. It may have tasted like chalk soaked in Tab cola, but I didn’t care. I looked forward to that thing every single day. Flintstones vitamins remind me so much of my childhood — a little bit kitschy, a little bit sweet, and full of good intentions. I hope I always remember that.

 

 

 

 

Grilled Marinated London Broil

Posted on by
3

I have never been a big London Broil fan, but when one mysteriously showed up in my grocery bag last week (along with a ham steak and filet mignon I also didn’t purchase — score!) I decided to make good use of it. In general, London Broil can be tough, so it’s always wise to marinate it first — and the longer the better.

I set off in search of a recipe that was both highly rated and contained ingredients currently located in my pantry. Not always an easy order to fill, but I got lucky! The boys and I loved this, and there was not a scrap left over. I served it with some green beans and everyone’s favorite potatoes. This is a simple, versatile marinade I will be using again for sure.

Grilled Marinated London Broil from Epicurious, original recipe here

Ingredients:

  • 5 large garlic cloves
  • 1 teaspoon salt
  • 1/4 cup dry red wine
  • 1/4 cup balsamic vinegar
  • 1 tablespoon soy sauce
  • 1 teaspoon honey
  • 1 1/2 pounds top-round London broil

Directions:

Mince the garlic to a paste with salt and in a blender blend with the salt, red wine, balsamic vinegar, soy sauce and honey.

In a heavy-duty sealable plastic bag, combine London broil with marinade. Seal bag, pressing out excess air, and put in a shallow baking dish. Marinate steak, chilled, turning occasionally, at least 4 hours and up to 24.

Bring steak to room temperature before grilling. Remove steak from marinade, letting excess drip off, and grill on an oiled rack set 5 to 6 inches over glowing coals, 7 to 9 minutes on each side for medium-rare. Transfer steak to a cutting board and let stand 10 minutes.

Holding a knife at a 45-degree angle, cut steak across grain into thin slices.

Vote and Eat

Posted on by
4

My first election was in 1988: George H.W. Bush versus Michael Dukakis. I voted, happily at the time, for George Bush. I loved Ronald Reagan, and Bush, while no dynamo, was the next best thing. My father had lived in New England for much of my life, so terms like “Taxachusetts” were part of my vocabulary from a young age. Plus, Kitty Dukakis was a bit fragile. She always looked minutes away from a complete mental breakdown. Definitely not first lady material, not in my book. Poor Kitty.

 

While my political opinions and party affiliation have evolved through the decades (and will continue to evolve), one thing has remained constant: the feeling of pride and patriotism which overcomes me every time I step into a voting booth.

After college, I lived with my mother in Philadelphia, and we had a tradition called “Vote and Eat.” You can probably guess what it involved. After we voted, we went to Nick’s Roast Beef on Cottman Avenue and ate. It was a fun tradition, and I can’t wait until my mom moves closer so our Vote and Eat can rise again.

In the meantime, I’ve been trying to come up with some inspiration to cook something worthwhile for election night, and I’ve got nothing. To be honest, this election has exhausted me. I have seen ugly, hateful things coming from people I otherwise like and respect, and it’s hard to not be changed by that. Even some people I agree with politically have spread panic and paranoia to a degree I consider really unhealthy. I will be so happy when this is behind us.

This morning, I set off to my little country polling place to vote (we still use ink pens around here) and was greeted happily by both the Romney camp and the Obama camp. They were chit chatting with each other before I walked up to them and continued to do so after I left. While I did not know them, these are my neighbors, members of my community. I was happy to see citizens with opposing political opinions treating each other respectfully, as friends, despite all I’ve heard heard in the media. If and when things get ugly, I will hold on to that. And I think I will exercise my constitutional right to order pizza and wings tonight.

Real Proper Southern Lady Cornbread

Posted on by
Reply

Time for a startling confession. As a lifelong Yankee, this has always been my idea of homemade cornbread:

I can’t say it was ever especially good. It was, I suppose, adequate, but just barely. Recently my friend, Southern Dawn of Georgia, shared her famous cornbread recipe, and two key words caught my eye: bacon drippings and cast iron skillet. If there’s anything I love more than bacon, it’s my cast iron skillet. I decided maybe it was time to break out of my comfort zone today and make cornbread the authentic southern way. How can this not be awesome? I felt like Paula Deen, before she turned all skinny and self righteous.

The verdict? Yum! Lovely texture; moist but still firm, not mushy. Easy and delicious. A keeper, for sure, y’all. (And thanks to Southern Sue for correcting my ya’ll. Oops!)

Real Proper Southern Lady Cornbread by Dawn Rogers

2 cups plain cornmeal
1 tsp salt
1 tsp baking soda
1 tsp sugar
2 tbsp baking powder
2 cups buttermilk
1 egg
bacon drippings

Place 2 slices of bacon in the bottom of your pan (cast iron skillet) and put in oven at 450 degrees. Sift dry ingredients together. Beat egg and buttermilk until mixed. Combine with dry ingredients and stir until well mixed. Take pan out of oven and remove bacon, pour batter into pan and cook for about 20 minutes. You can broil it for a few seconds to brown the top.

Two Holiday Helpers

Posted on by
1

If you, like me, sometimes browse through your holiday food magazines and find all of the choices a bit overwhelming and difficult to mentally organize, I am about to share with you a life changing gift. Zach and Clay of The Bitten Word have thoughtfully organized every Thanksgiving recipe from 2012’s Bon Appetit, Cook’s Illustrated, Cooking Light, Everyday Food, Fine Cooking, Food & Wine, Food Network Magazine, Martha Stewart Living, Saveur, Southern Living and Whole Living (that’s eleven magazines!) and with the exception of those snobs at Saveur and Cook’s Illustrated, every single recipe is linked online. Today I will be trying a yet-to-be-determined stuffing recipe from the index, and if it’s worthwhile, I promise I will share it. You can find The Bitten Word’s extremely helpful index here.

Speaking of Thanksgiving, did you know that Thanksgiving Eve is considered the biggest drinking day of the year in terms of liquor sales at bars and restaurants everywhere? I’ll let you draw your own conclusions as to why.

My extremely talented friend Beth, founder and CEO of SIPP, an organic soda company, is a true cocktail savant with genius instincts. She is always creating fabulous, original cocktails which she never bothers to write down, much to my dismay. Last night she whipped up a delicious, fragrant, goes-down-way-too-easy cocktail with apple cider and vanilla vodka, and I insisted she write it down so that I could hopefully serve it again. But what to name it? We had many ideas, ranging from Apple Crisp (too desserty) to Autumn Dream (too Glade air freshenery), and let’s just say the ideas did not improve with each subsequent cocktail. But in the middle of the night, like all good ideas, it suddenly came to me: Holiday Helper! I hope you will try this, and I hope this will help your holidays.

Holiday Helper

1 oz. Vanilla Vodka

2 oz. Apple Cider

Dash of cinnamon

Dash of nutmeg

1/2 oz. ginger ale (preferably SIPP ginger blossom if you can get your hands on some)

Combine vodka and apple cider in a cocktail shaker. Top with sprinkle of cinnamon and nutmeg, then splash of ginger ale. Garnish with apple, if desired. Cheers, friends!

p.s. I finally entered 2005 and created a Facebook page for Mom Mom’s Apron. You can like me by clicking the box in the right hand column. As always, thanks for your support!

p.p.s. If you are having a bit of a hostess meltdown, check out this.

The Blessing of Wind

Posted on by
5

Recently, I had a flashback. My son and I were in the car after preschool, and I was interrogating him about his day. I use the word interrogate deliberately. I still remember how hard it was to get accurate information out of that kid!

My main goal was to find out this: Was he happy? Were people nice? Did his teacher properly appreciate his brilliance? Did anyone make him cry? Was he unjustly accused of any preschool crimes that day?

My witness was rarely cooperative. Good, fine, okay — these were the words I usually got, plus very convoluted tales about Legos and Power Rangers. I didn’t realize it at the time, but looking back, I see I was attempting to rescue my son, right any wrongs, and make his preschool experience happy and easy. Happy and easy, these were my wishes for him back then. Fortunately, this is not what he ever wanted for himself. As always, children show you everything you need to know.

Flash forward to today. I texted my son, now a confident and resilient college freshman, and asked him if he ever wished I intervened more or rescued him. I was pleased but not especially surprised that he emphatically responded NO. Despite my early inclinations, I was not the mom who dropped everything to run to the school with forgotten homework assignments or band instruments or lunches. Like my children, I have changed and I have grown.

I used to hate wind. Unless I’m on a sailboat, I try to avoid it at all costs. It feels unpleasant, and it can destroy things. A gentle spring breeze? Sure. An ocean breeze on a hot day? Delightful. But cold, rainy 30 mph wind? Yuck.

Years ago, I heard a speaker talk about the Biosphere 2 project, and it changed my thoughts on wind forever. I still don’t like it, but I respect its place in nature now.

There are many beneficial affects posed by wind for plants. Wind helps to pollinate many species of plants, spread seeds, remove harmful gasses, bring in many species of animals that are wind-dispersed, and many other forces. Wind is also necessary for creating hardy and strong trees. When it was first created, there was no wind inside of Biosphere 2. Plants grew relatively quickly, but they frequently fell over before they were of reproductive age. After some intensive observations and experimentation, it was determined that the lack of wind created trees with much softer wood than that species would normally make in the wild. They grew more quickly than they did in the wild, but they were harmed in the long run as a consequence. — By Dr. James A. Danoff-Burg, Columbia University

It is one of those things I think of often. While it’s only human to want to avoid the wind (adversity) in life, the reality is that without it, we would be artificially inflated and weak like a tree in Biosphere 2. If we don’t grow up bending and strengthening with the wind, once we are big, the tiniest little breeze will be able to knock us over and completely destroy us. I want my children to have happy and easy lives, but I also want them to be brave and strong. Attempting to shelter children from any wind will only harm them in the long run; a little wind is good for us all. When times are tough, I try to remember this.