The Good, the Bad, and Sometimes, the Ugly

I don't know what went screwy with cooking in the 60's and 70's.  I almost came to you empty-handed this week, admitting failure to find a recipe from the 70's.  I spent the past few days going through not one or two, but five cookbooks, looking for something.  It was not easy.  My friend in Ohio graciously put up with my texted photos of dishes from the 'Better Homes and Gardens Salad Book', where there's a chapter called, 'Salads from the Freezer.'  And despite her insistence that I make a frozen salad...I just couldn't.  I couldn't.  But...hey, it's not summer yet, I may be inclined give it a go in a month or two...we'll see.

The decade strikes me as a time of brown food.  I know I've mentioned it before.  Look through any illustrated cookbook from then and tell me if you don't agree.  Everything has a brown or overly warm tint.  A very unappetizing tint, like they were trying to coordinate with every kitchen done in paneling and full of appliances and kitchenware in avocado green, mustard, or chocolate brown.  

After trying to find a feasible recipe in book after book, I pulled the 'Tassajara Cooking' book down from the shelf.  It even has a brown cover!  Released by the Zen Center of San Franciso, it is a vegetarian cookbook that is more guide than traditional step by step recipes.  From the first page, the laid back attitude is in evidence:  'The way to be a cook is to cook.  The results don't have to be just right, measuring up to some imagined or ingrained taste...Just feed, satisfy, nourish.'

The recipe I chose is the Bulgur-Tahini Casserole.  (Casseroles are so 70's.)  As written, the ingredient list and directions barely make a full paragraph, with an additional two longer paragraphs of variations!   So I varied.  I substituted red winter wheat berries for the bulgur.  The dish is not an attractive one once ready.  It was very brown from the wheat berries.  I'm tempted to try again using rice or millet.  It's got a quiche-y kind of consistency from the eggs, but has a chewiness from the wheat berries.  The tahini is a winning ingredient, because sesame is one of my favorite flavors.   Serve with a salad and you're good to go.

If you decide to give this a try, I would LOVE to see photos or hear what you think of it.  

Wheat Berries-Tahini Casserole

Adapted from the Bulgur-Tahini Casserole recipe in the Tasajara Cooking book

Serves 4

1 cup wheat berries (dry)

3 cups water

1 tbsp olive oil

1 small onion, diced

2 cloves garlic, minced

1/3 cup tahini

1/2 tsp salt

2 eggs

1/4 cup milk

Bring water to a boil in saucepan, add wheat berries, and cook over a low simmer until done to chewiness.  Drain any remaining water.  Grease a casserole pan (I used an 8 inch round Pyrex baker), and preheat oven to 350 degrees.

Saute onion and garlic in pan until translucent, remove from heat and let cool for a few minutes.  In a medium bowl, crack eggs and beat lightly.  Add milk, tahini, and salt, whisking until relatively smooth.  Add onions and garlic, mixing well, then add wheat berries, stirring to thoroughly combine all ingredients.  

Pour mix into casserole and bake for 25-30 minutes.  Remove from oven and let cook for a few minutes before serving.  

Right On Time

If I had stayed on schedule with the 'Throwback Thursday' posts I started in February, I should be posting a recipe from the 1980's this week.  Everything happens for a reason though, right?  Maybe it's not a coincidence that there were a couple of hiccups along the way and the week I cover the 60's is the same week that the final episodes of 'Mad Men' begin to air.  I am a huge fan of the show and well, I have yet to fully admit to myself that after these last seven episodes, it will be over.  Sometime in the near future, you may find me in a darkened room, bingeing on the series all over again.

This recipe is exactly the kind of dish I could see Betty Draper making as part of dinner where Don brings home a client to sweet talk into letting Sterling Cooper run their next advertising campaign.  She'd be wearing something pastel with a coordinating chiffon hostess apron--a cigarette in one hand, a potholder in the other as she opens the oven door and pulls out a Pyrex casserole filled to every nook with onions, golden and baked to perfection.  Simmering in a sauce of stock, honey, lemon, and butter, baked long enough that the onions keep their shape, but soften to the point where they practically melt in your mouth with each bite.  A dish so simple to pull together, just right to serve with roast chicken.  No...scratch that.  Not chicken.  Cornish hen.  Each guest made to feel special by having their own.  The kind of special gesture that convinces you that Don is your man.

The Spice Islands Cookbook, originally published in 1961, is a perfect example of a cookbook from the 60's.  Kitschy graphics, helpful charts, and lovely recipes such as Eggs in Aspic.  I wish I was kidding about that one.  I'm not.  But don't hold that recipe against the book.  It was the 60's, after all.

Baked Onions
Adapted from a recipe in The Spice Islands Cookbook
Serves 2-4

2 large yellow onions
1 cup vegetable or chicken stock
1 1/2 tbsp butter
1/2 tsp salt
1 tsp honey
1/4 tsp lemon zest, grated
1/4 tsp paprika
2 tbsp panko bread crumbs
1 tsp black sesame seeds

Pre-heat oven to 350 degrees.  Peel outer skins from onions and slice in half.  Place in casserole of baking dish, large enough to hold onions, but not so small that onions are crowded.  In a small bowl, whisk together the stock, one tablespoon of the butter, salt, honey, paprika, and lemon zest.  Once mixed, pour oven onions.  Cover baking dish with foil and bake until onions are tender, 50 minutes to an hour.  In a small skillet, melt the remaining butter, adding the panko and sesame seeds, heating until slightly toasted.  Remove foil from baking dish, sprinkle bread crumbs over onions, and bake uncovered for an additional 10-15 minutes, until crumbs turn golden brown.

Serve on their own or over rice.