1861 Carrots in the German Way

I promised to start a Throwback Thursday series, where once I week I'll cook a recipe from one of my vintage cookbooks, covering each decade of the 20th century through the present.  Within a few hours of making this declaration, I discover that I have nothing to cover 1900-1910.  Granted, my 1914 copy of The Boston Cooking School Cookbook has copyrights from 1896 to 1914, but I'm leaving that book in the second decade.

What I do have is a 1968 edition of Beeton's Book of Household Management, which was originally published between 1859 and 1861.  Yes...we're throwing it back to the 19th century for the first #tbt!  The 1968 edition is a facsimile of the original 1861 version, it's small in stature--just about 5 x7 inches--and comes in at a whopping 1100+ pages.  The Table of Contents covers everything from the duites of a home's mistress, what is expected of the housekeeper, the arrangement and economy of the kitchen, and 'observations' and recipes for every game bird you can think of, boiled calves heads, and veal cake (promised to be a convenient dish for a picnic).

I began flipping through the desserts sections, but figured that with half a cake still in the fridge, I should probably opt for something that wasn't  a cake, cookie, or pudding.  Maybe something a little healthier, but not a venture into how to stew pigeons or roast a haunch of venison.

Vegetables seemed a safe route to travel and after bypassing 'Artichoke Pudding',' 'Potato Snow,' and a few other recipes, I settled on 'To Dress Carrots in the German Way.'  Honestly, I'm not sure what makes this the 'German Way'...maybe the nutmeg?  I don't use nutmeg too often and usually it's in sweets, but this...this is a great dish even after 150 years.

I'm going to spend a little more time in this book.  An explanation of the duties of the laundry-maid.  Advice on child rearing and dealing with infantile fits.  And where else would you learn about a mesurement called a gill?  (And then have to Google to find the answer.  It's a quarter pint!)

To Dress Carrots in the German Way
Adapted from 'Beeton's Book of Household Management'
Serves 2-4

3 medium to large carrots, washed and cut into short pieces
3 tbsp butter
1/4 tsp nutmeg, freshly grated
1 tbsp parsley, minced
1 tbsp onion, minced 
1 1/2 cups veetable or chicken stock
1 tbsp flour
salt

In a large skillet, melt 2 tbsp of the butter over medium heat.  Add the carrots, onions, parsley, and nutmeg.  Stir to coat the carrots and cook until onions begin to turn translucent and carrots begin to soften.  Pour stock into skillet and simmer until carrots continue to tender.  In a small saucepan, melt the remaining tablespoon of butter, then add the flour, stirring until mixture begins to brown.  Add the liquid from the carrots and bring to a boil for a minute or two.  Return stock to skillet and simmer until sauce reduces and thickens.  

A perfect side for roast chicken or over a bed of rice.

A World Away

In what seems a world away, a century ago, I remember the first tentative forays into foods that were unusual, foreign, and exotic to me.  Growing up in the suburbs of Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, there were a lot of weekends after I graduated from high school when I would take the train into New York City with a friend or two to see bands play at the Ritz or visit penpals (turned friends) who lived on Long Island.  I loved walking through Greenwich Village, down Canal Street, record shopping, vintage shopping, just hanging out and taking everything in.  

The first time I had Indian food was in New York City.  My girlfriend at the time, our friend from Long Island, and myself found ourselves hungry after a serious day of shopping and walking around.  Somehow we decided on Indian and thanks to Sue's love of roses we picked The Rose of India.  Yes...for the name and maybe an agreeable cursory glance at the menu posted near the door.  This place was truly awesome once we walked inside and let our eyes adjust to the serious change of lighting from outside to in.  It was a long and narrow space with a center aisle and tables that hugged the walls on either side.  Strands of Christmas lights (there must have been a few dozen) reached from the entryway to the kitchen, criss-crossing across the ceiling and winding their way up and down the wall.  Even more amazing was the fact that it seemed as though every square inch of exposed wall was covered in artificial flowers.  Silk, plastic, single blooms, garlands, bouquets, leaves, petals...all somehow attached or glued, making the dining room feel like a very dimly lit, strange 'garden' space.  Sue could not have chosen a better place.  We had a feast that evening, dish after dish after dish...curries, fritters, rice, fruits, vegetables, meats.  To this day, I think fondly of the banana fritters we had for dessert and the fact that our whole bill was just $22!  Even in the late 80's  that was a serious score. 

Of course, I had friends that lived in Philadelphia around this time too.  There was lot of time spent on the campus of Temple University, on South Street, and in Old City...hanging out in dorm rooms,  searching through the bins of Thrid St. Jazz, or dancing nights away at Revival.  But there was also a little spot, if my memory serves me right, on Fourth Street, just off of South, called Tuly's Middle Eastern restaurant.  Another restaurant in a small space, but bright and white.  Maybe 8 or 10 wooden tables and chairs populated the space as you walked in the entrance, past the small take-out counter.  More times than not, I wound up here with my friend, Amy, and we regularly took the table against the back wall.  It was a great vantage spot to watch the goings on or to lean up against the wall as we ate, smoked, and talked for hours.  We'd start every visit here with a plate of feta and Kalamata olives, drizzled with olive oil, and generously sprinkled with oregano.  My choices were usually lamb or falafel.  Falafel...who knew that chick peas could be that good.  Up until then, they were something that I would pick out of any salad I found them in, thinking their large, bumpy appearance was truly unappetizing.  I loved the crunch of each deep fried falafel ball, giving way to a chewy interior, mixing with the tang of the yogurt sauce.  

Over twenty plus years later, I finally took it upon myself to even try making Indian food.  But I did.  And it was really good.  Coming close to a year and a half later, I made falafel.  Now this isn't the first time I made it...but it is the first time where it didn't come from a boxed mix.  I know.  For some reason, I thought it would be one of those things that would be difficult.  Silly me.  I also don't do a lot of deep frying at home.  You know how the scent of frying oil just tends to linger in the air for a day or two?  Yeah...that.  It was worth it though.

Falafel

From a recipe on Epicurious

1 15 oz can garbanzo beans, drained and rinsed

1/2 cup onions, chopped

2 tbsp cilantro, chopped

1 tbsp parsley, chopped

1 tsp salt

1/2 tsp red pepper flakes

4 cloves garlic

1 tsp cumin

1 tsp baking powder

6 tbsp flour

oil for frying

Yogurt Sauce with Celery

1 cup plain yogurt

1/4 cup celery, finely minced

1 tbsp olive oil

Sumac

Add all the falafel ingredients, except the baking powder and flour, to the bowl of a food processor.  Pulse until ingredients come together, but are not pureed.  Add baking powder and flour, again pulsing to bring ingredients together.  The mix should still feel a little chunky, but not too sticky.  Refrigerate for a couple of hours to overnight.

For the yogurt sauce, mix the yogurt with the celery and olive oil until well blended.  Sprinkle generously with sumac and refrigerate to let flavours mingle.  

To fry the falafel, form into small walnut size balls or patties.  Bring oil to 375 degrees in a large saucepan.  Only fry 3 or 4 at a time to keep oil temperature from dropping.  Fry until golden brown (about 2 minutes each side), flipping to fry evenly.  Remove from oil with slotted spoon and allow to drain on paper towel lined plate.  

You can serve the falafel in a pita topped with the yogurt sauce or do what I did and top a bed of romaine with falafel and yogurt sauce.   

A Taste of Summer

If there are two foods that have Summer emblazoned across their tiny little foreheads, they are corn and tomatoes.  There is nothing like biting into a home-grown tomato.  This year I actually ate tomatoes that I grew right outside my front door.  There weren't many (two), but I did it!  I've also been lucky to be given tomatoes from a friend's garden.  And I've picked up a few heirlooms at the farmers' market here and there.

Corn makes me think of family cookouts, messy fingers, and butter sliding off the cob faster than you can bite into it.  I've grown to like corn more and more over the years.  I'm pretty much a purist eating it off the cob with nothing more than butter and a sprinkle of salt.  That's nostalgia more than anything else.  Though what I really dig these days is corn salsa, bringing together both corn and tomatoes in one dish.  Fresh flavours at the height of their season.  

Here in Los Angeles, every Saturday morning from 10am to noon, you can tune into KNX on the AM dial (yes, radio!) and listen to Melinda Lee do her show, 'Food News.'  She's been on the air for years and has years and years of experience in food.  I love listening to her.  She's engaging, educational, amusing, and full of information.  Each week her show has a theme and listeners are invited to call in to ask questions...any question dealing with food and not necessarily on that week's topic.  Last week's topic was, you guessed it, corn!   I went to her website and checked out the show topic's collection of recipes and made a riff on the corn salsa recipe she posted.  It's a recipe that comes together very quickly.  Just be sure to let it sit for at least an hour after you make it, so all the flavours can mingle.

Grill some chicken, tear it into pieces...top a tostada with the chicken and the salsa and you have something really magical and full of Summer in each bite.

Corn Salsa
(Adapted from Melinda Lee's Roasted White Corn Salsa) 
Makes about 1 1/2 cups

1 cup cooked corn
1 small jalapeno, minced
1/4 cup onion, minced
1/4 cup tomato, chopped
juice from one lime
1 tbsp sherry vinegar
1 tbsp rice vinegar
1 tbsp honey
2 tbsp parsley, minced

Mix all ingredients together in a bowl and stir well.  Set aside for at least an hour, letting flavours mingle and develop.