This is not a new thing this time of year; I get that. Turkey, turkey, turkey! Thanksgiving is behind us now (and a special one it was)! I reflect now on what this time of year means and what it is for others. We make a trek each year to Bainbridge Island to be with family. We are grateful to have the amazing family we have that welcomes us and invites us for all the special moments in our lives. This includes recitals, births, celebrations, and just because.
The best thing about Thanksgiving, for me, as my young self, was a turkey sandwich. In my opinion, dinner came way too early in the day. It was basically lunch. I’m still a fan of said sandwich, but now if comes the next day because dinner at my brother’s house has been right timed to a more appropriate hour. Also, the turkey is always perfectly done (by Joe, the next-door, head of family neighbor, who quietly became part of our family twenty some years ago).
Now, a turkey sandwich can wear many hats and take on many flavors, but after Thanksgiving, I think there are two essential ingredients, besides turkey that is: horseradish and cranberry sauce. The bread of my youth was usually Wonder Bread, but I’ve grown up and my tastes have too. I like bread with a good tooth to it, dense but airy, slightly sour but slightly sweet. In the absence of the perfect slice of bread to slap the fixings between, a good dinner roll will do the trick. This year, I used a buttermilk dinner roll from Macrina Bakery in Seattle.
The cranberry sauce has to be fresh. It is so easy to make, I always wonder what stops me from making it all year long. Just simmer the fresh cranberries with a little fresh orange juice, orange zest and a smattering of sugar; just enough sugar to make take the edge off the tartness of the cranberries. I do like to add a dash of prepared horseradish to the sauce, but I also slather it on my bread. Another must, in my book, is lettuce, preferably something with a crunch. I just happened to have some clover sprouts, which I’m glad I decided to tuck in under my lettuce; the flavor added that earthy crunch that recalls the days when sprouts were available everywhere. Oh, I forgot to mention mayonnaise, just a little bit, it helps calm the horseradish down. I also like to add a slice of Swiss cheese, but this is not critical for me, but it is for Tom.
If you feel like making a Thanksgiving turkey sandwich at another time of year, may I suggest roasting a turkey breast, let it cool and then slice. I learned this trick making food for our dogs. I just roasted it in the oven at 350-degrees F, no seasoning at all (bone in and skin on though). I started snacking on it as I was taking it off the bone to make their food and thought, “Wow, this is really good!”
For those that do know (and remember), my love affair with fried chicken, you will need to recall where said love of fried chicken stemmed from? (ahem, The Lucky Wishbone).
I need to back up to give context before sharing the “news”. Lucky Wishbone, Anchorage, is the restaurant my grandparents built (by hand), then owned and operated for the rest of their lives. It is an Alaskan institution, still family owned; in fact, in November they will celebrate 70 years of providing the community with a place to congregate, receive genuine hugs, eat comforting food (including the best fried chicken), and feel a sense of family and belonging. Generations of families have worked there, in fact, their first employee, Agnus, worked there her whole career, starting as a waitress and ending up as head cook before she retired. Heidi has also worked there her whole career, having been hired (at age 16) after my grandma saw her sitting on a rock outside a clothing store. Heidi had applied for a job there and was treated rudely by the clerk. My grandma hired her on the spot. Decades later (now a grandma herself) she is part owner (true story).
When my grandpa passed away, he sold the restaurant (for a song), to two of his longtime employees, Carolina Stacey and Heidi Heinrich-Lavaag (the Heidi referenced above). At the time, my mom (Patricia Brown-Heller) was given 10% ownership, and she and her brother still own the land that it sits on. Recently, my mom became the majority owner and partners with Carolina and Heidi.
In a nutshell, Mom called to tell me that The Lucky Wishbone was the recipient of a James Beard Award!!! Again, my response was:
“What? Wow! How?”.
Turns out, there is an “America’s Classics” award, which is (and I quote) “A category of the James Beard Restaurant and Chef Awards, the America’s Classics Award is given to locally and independently owned restaurants with timeless appeal and beloved in their region for food that reflects the character and cultural traditions of its community”.
The Lucky Wishbone in Anchorage, Alaska, was this year’s Northwest & Pacific region recipient.
Again:
“What? Wow! How?”.
Turns out, we don’t know how, it was nominated, somehow, by someone, and WON!
I am a huge food person (and hate the label “foodie”). I have been all about food for most of my life. The Lucky Wishbone is NOT a “foodie” place; it is more of a “yummy and comforting food” kind of place. Think pan-fried chicken (like grandma used to make), local fresh-ground beef burgers steamed on the griddle, home-made onion rings, chili, corn bread and buttermilk biscuits. Oh, and don’t forget the milkshakes, hand-spun, with multiple flavor options; my favorites being the fresh strawberry and the hot fudge shake! I used to make myself mini-shakes during my shift as a waitress. I would set them on the shelf around the corner and steal a moment to take sips between trips from the customer’s table to the kitchen.
I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention the strawberry shortcake, made with home-made buttermilk biscuits, heated and paired with fresh strawberry sauce, vanilla ice cream and topped off with whipped cream. The hot fudge sundae was (and still is) a favorite. Most of our family dinners ended with hot fudge sundaes using hot fudge from the Wishbone. They were topped with both whipped cream and chopped peanuts (with a cherry on top).
What the Lucky Wishbone is famous for though, is the fried chicken. Back in the day, it was hard to come by certain ingredients in Alaska so my grandparents would have the chicken flown in fresh, not frozen.
The Travel
This past Spring, I got a text from mom, asking if I wanted to be her plus-one at the awards ceremony in Chicago. (Um) Yes, please!
For those of you that don’t know, this is like going to the Oscars but for food. I didn’t even know what to expect until I got there and actually experienced it first-hand (more on that in another post).
Since this is a delayed account of the news (if you have been reading for awhile, you might remember that I am a procrastinator), because, well, I procrastinated.
All right, I am super stoked to go and then I get another text from mom saying she wants to go to a Michelin star restaurant while we are there and can I please make the reservations. Yes again! In fact, I was happy to take charge of all the dinner reservations. Unfortunately, the timing of this text was pretty close to the time of travel, therefore, being as our travel coincided with THE JAMES BEARD AWARDS, a few food savvy people were going to be in town and had already scooped up some of my prime targets.
Not to worry, there are plenty of fabulous places to eat in Chicago and we did just fine. We also did a lot of walking (even though I was just 30 days past ACL surgery!), a tiny bit of shopping, and a good deal of mother/daughter bonding.
All-in-all, I would say, this was a peak experience. Thanks to mom and congratulations to all that have put in the work to make the Lucky Wishbone so special. It was a team effort, and I could not be prouder. To learn more about this, check out my mom, Heidi and Carolina on Culinary Characters podcast.
Me and mom on the red carpet.
Back to chicken, I am a thigh girl. When I eat at the Lucky Wishbone, I have a very specific order: a Cheeseburger Deluxe, an order of fried gizzards, 2 onion rings, a small salad with roquefort dressing, a “Mom”, all thighs (this equals 3 pieces of chicken, fries and a fresh made biscuit), and a side of roquefort dressing (for dipping).
Now that I have made myself a bit hungry, it is time to make some fried chicken! But not before I wish mom a Happy Birthday! Happy Birthday, Mom!
I crave fried chicken ALL the time. When I make it at home, my go-to is oven-fried chicken because it makes less mess and feels just a little healthier, plus, my husband really loves it and it makes the house smell damn fine.
This is pan-fried chicken, similar to how they do it at the Lucky Wishbone. I finish it in the oven, so the crust does not burn before the chicken cooks through, and it spends less time in the oven.
Author:Stacey Bender
Ingredients
Scale
6 chicken thighs (or whichever pieces you prefer)
2–3 cups buttermilk
2 cups flour
1 tsp baking soda
1 tsp salt (or more to taste)
fresh ground pepper
2 tsp smoked paprika
canola oil
Instructions
In a large bowl, soak the raw chicken in the buttermilk, covered in the refrigerator. I like to do this overnight, but at least 2 hours will do just fine too.
Preheat oven to 375 degrees F.
Set a wire rack over a pan. Pull each piece of chicken out of the buttermilk bath and pat them dry. As you dry each piece, place them on the wire rack.
In another large bowl, mix the flour, baking soda, salt, pepper and smoked paprika.
Dredge each piece of chicken through the flour mixture and place back on the wire rack. Let them sit for 10-15 minutes.
Dip each piece of chicken into the buttermilk again, letting it drip off as you pull it out of the bowl (you might need to add more buttermilk).
Dredge each piece of chicken through the flour again, setting them back onto the wire rack.
In a deep cast iron skillet or Dutch oven, heat 1″ depth of canola oil until it is 350 degrees F.
Add the chicken, skin side down, to the pan (without crowding; you might need to do this in batches).
Let cook for 9 minutes, or until browned.
Using tongs, turn the chicken over and cook another 2 minutes.
Remove to the wire rack and let chicken rest for 5 minutes.
Finish the chicken in the oven (375 degrees F) until it is cooked through (internal temperature should be 163 degrees F), approximately 15 minutes
Notes
This is easily scalable so if you want to do more chicken to feed a crowd, adjust the flour mixture accordingly.
I have also successfully used olive oil instead of canola.
If your pan has higher sides, it helps keep the splatter in check!
Don’t let the oil go below 325 degrees F or you risk greasy chicken. Don’t let the oil go above 375 degrees F to keep the crust from burning.
I do not inherently like to fish but I have done some fishing in my life, both for actual fish and for arbitrary inquires to life’s conundrums. I love to eat fish, or at least I used to love eating it quite a lot. I used to cook fish, more nights than not.
These past years since I last wrote here, in my little corner of the internet, my tastebuds, appetite and desires for cooking have gone through several resets. It has been a long time since I have occupied this writing space and a lot of life’s contradictory events that tend to happen to one during a lifetime have, in fact, occurred for me within a short span. My desire to cook and eat the foods I once loved did not exist anymore, which was very troubling for someone who used to live to eat. I have slowly come back to my old self again and most notably, just recently for me, I have finally, once again, had the desire to eat (and cook) fish (whew)!
On Thursday I was gifted a very fresh, rather large piece of fresh king salmon. It came unexpectedly from my hardwood flooring installer, George (who I highly recommend if you are in need of anything to do with hardwood floors and live in the Seattle area). So here I was, a sunny afternoon and a beautiful slab of freshly caught salmon; only one thing to do. Get out my cedar plank and give it a spin. This was a peak salmon experience.
CEDAR PLANK SALMON, FRESH PEACH, CORN ON THE COBB AND BUTTERED BREAD
Tangy mustard glazed salmon cooked on a cedar plank for that oh-so-perfect smokey flavor and fuss-free grilling. Topped with peak-of-season fresh peaches; served up alongside freshly grilled corn and a slab of buttered bread, just perfection.
Author:Stacey Bender
Prep Time:10 minutes
Cook Time:25 -30 minutes
Total Time:35 - 40 minutes
Yield:41x
Category:Seafood
Method:cedar plank
Diet:Low Fat
Ingredients
Scale
1 1/2 lbs (or approximately 6 oz per person) Fresh King Salmon, skin and bones removed
2 TB Dijon Mustard
1 TB Orange Blossom Honey
1 tsp Smoked Paprika
1 Lemon, thinly sliced
Salt and Pepper
Olive Oil
(4) Fresh Corn Cobbs
(1) Large Fresh Peach, Skin Removed
(4) Slices Potato Bread
Butter
1 Cup Baby Arugula + Spinach Mix
Instructions
Prep your board! On a sheet pan with edges, fill with water and add a tablespoon of kosher salt (or so) and put your plank in the water, weighed down with an object (such as a can of tomatoes or a drinking glass). If there is room, add your corn to the water too (or alternatively, put corn in a separate bowl of water).
Once you have prepared your fillet by removing the skin, and tweazering (yes, that is a word) out the bones, rinsed and patted dry: using your fingers, sprinkle with a dusting of sea salt and freshly grind over some pepper. Slather each fillet with the mustard, drizzle with honey, then sprinkle with the smoked paprika.
Heat the grill until 400 or more degrees.
Empty the water from the sheet pan and put the plank on the grill, lid closed, for 5 minutes or until you smell the scent of cedar.
Remove the plank, drizzle the burnt side with olive oil and add the salmon.
Drizzle the salmon with olive oil and top with the lemon slices.
Turn the middle two burners off (for indirect heat) and place the plank on the grill over the indirect heat. Put the Corn on the rack above and close the lid.
Cook for 15 minutes before checking in on the salmon. I like mine medium rare but cook to your liking and remove the plank from the heat along with the corn.
Remove the husks and silks from the corn.
Slather four bread slices with room temperature butter (whipped if you like).
TO PLATE
Put three to four lemon slices down on each plate and top with a salmon fillet
scatter some peach slices over (scantily on top or to the side)
Tuck a handful of greens under each fillet
Add a slice of buttered bread and a corn cobb to each plate
Enjoy + Cheers!
Notes
If you don’t have Orange Blossom honey, you can use whatever you have; I just happen to love the subtle nuance that the orange blossom honey provides.
King Salmon if preferred and from the middle is most desired. You can keep it in one piece or, to make it easier to plate, cut into (4) equal size fillets. Your seafood monger might be willing to do this for you.
I don’t always soak my corn before grilling, often times I just rinse well under water before adding to the heat. Use your judgement and discretion. The corn is sweet and perfect without the addition of salt or butter. The corn and silks slide easily away so no need to do much else other than let them steam within their natural packet.
Keywords: cedar plank salmon, corn-on-the-cobb, fresh peach, king salmon, no-fuss seafood
On another, life-changing note, we had both a loss and have a new addition to our family last year. Dear Winston passed last August and then we brought home sweet Milo in September. We are pretty sure this was by some cosmic plan (?).
Introducing Milo – shhhh, don’t wake him; more later.
I always felt squash blossoms were a special and coveted find at the farmer’s market. It wasn’t until Tom and I started planting squash ourselves last year, that we realized how readily abundant and available they could be (particularly if grown in your own backyard).
Similar to a parent; they are there…and available, if only you pay attention to look, reach out. My Dad, as I mentioned previously, passed away on my birthday this summer. He was always there for me and willing to lend an ear, a hand and even a handout when needed in my youth.
I took for granted that he would always be there to talk to, in good times, and bad. I always remember his strengths, even though, as with all of us humans, were equaled by his weaknesses, even if unperceived by most.
Today would have been his 82nd birthday. Last year for his 81st, we celebrated over a Zoom call with most of the guest list who attended his special 80th birthday party at my brother Scott’s house the previous year. I thought about making some banana dessert today in his honor, as I did last year. He was famous for his love of banana cream pie and for his 80th, my sister-in-law Christine, had a cake made based off a recipe I found on the internet called Banana Cream Cake. The recipe was for a small cake so it was, I don’t know, quadrupled (!!!) in size? That Cake was quite the star of the party (other than Dad, of course) and continued to feed the group of house party attendees that had flown in for the event, and stayed over to keep the party going all weekend.
This year instead, I am celebrating with squash blossoms, to remind me how fragile life is and yet how exquisite it can also be.
The squash blossom is dynamic. The full, vibrant, yellow beauty is best when picked at peak color and scale, because soon after, it collapses into a watery mess. The flower is both delicate and sturdy, yet should be handled gently and with care. It has many talents but is best known for it’s affinity for being stuffed with soft cheese and quickly pan-fried.
Dad’s talents, accomplishments and contributions to society were impressive and many, but his greatest hit of all wasjust being Dad! Happy Birthday Dad; I love and miss you.
Just Dad!!!
Young Kent
An up and comer, kicking ass and taking names!
The good life…at home in Ajijic, Mexico, with wife/step-mom, Linda and beloved dogs Sophie and Sasha
The now-infamous banana creme cake
Fire Dogs standing by… (Photoshop mastery by PB Woychick)
A special shoutout for MY BROTHER MARK AND HIS WIFE IRMA who have been in Mexico helping to make sure our step-mom is both healthy again and sorting out the remains of his life from memorabilia. They are, the unsung hero’s and so appreciated. Mark met his wife, Irma, in Ajijic and is now surrounded by extended family (on her side) to rally and support. A big shout out to all – THANK YOU!
Fresh from the garden and quick to the plate. This is an easy, ad-hoc appetizer for any night of the week, or even every night of the summer while your garden is feeling generous. Since you might have only 4 blossoms to work with or you might have as many as 12 or 16, I will give a rule of thumb on the ingredient quantity, but feel free to scale up or down as needed. Left-over batter and stuffing can be stored, covered in the refrigerator for several days.
Author:Stacey Bender
Ingredients
Scale
Freshly picked squash blossoms
Smoked goat cheese (soft); assume approximately 1 oz., per 4-6 blossoms (depending on size of blossom)
Grated parmesan cheese (just a sprinkle, or up to a few TBSP if making 12-24)
Egg yolk (1 yolk for 6 oz. goat cheese, or just a portion of the yolk if doing a small quantity)
Freshly ground pepper to taste
Sprinkle of smoked paprika (more if using non-smoked goat cheese)
Cooked beets (particularly yellow), skin removed and sliced thin
Arugula, lemon juice, salt and pepper
Green Sauce (enough to dollop each plate)
FOR THE BATTER
Flour (1/2 cup or so)
Salt and pepper
Sprinkle of parmesan
Enough soda water to resemble pancake batter
FOR SAUCE
3 Gigante beans (in vinaigrette) from the olive bar (I said it was ad-hoc but you could use a little tahini or another handful of white beans from a can)
1/8 cup fresh basil leaves
3 green Castelvetrano olives
1 TB lemon juice
3 TB olive oil
3 TB water
Sea salt and pepper to taste
Instructions
Check each blossom for bugs and gently part the outer pedals to create a cup for the filling.
In a small bowl, mix the goat cheese, parmesan, egg yolk, pepper and paprika.
Gently fill each blossom, leaving the tips empty enough to twist closed.
Twist the tips closed and set aside.
Meanwhile, make the batter by mixing all the ingredients together.
Add enough olive oil to cover the bottom of a sauté pan and heat until hot but not smoking.
Dip each blossom into the batter while holding the tips and drop them one-by-one into the heated oil.
Let the one side crisp to a golden brown (1-2 minutes) then, using tongs, flip them over to heat through (30-60 seconds more).
Put sliced beets onto a plate.
Toss arugula with sea salt, pepper, and lemon juice and put a mound over each plate of beets.
Top with the cooked blossoms and spoon a bit of the green sauce around the plate.
GREEN SAUCE
Simply put all ingredients into a blender/Vitamix or food processor until smooth.
I haven’t visited this space for awhile now and although I’ve had a lot to say, now is not the time to to say it all; I will however, say just enough.
I (we, actually) lost our father recently.I have two brothers and a step-brother, so I really can’t say it was just I who lost my father.My step-mother also lost her husband, of 34 years. Our extended family and many friends, lost a generous man, mentor, confidant, and dear friend.
I don’t feel the need to elaborate anymore on the specifics; they are private, and hard to relive. Certainly, at least hard to speak about here, a space where the focus is (primarily) food, but as it always takes a personal slant, as good a place to continue this journey as anywhere.
My father loved food.As do I (so the apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree). Eating is a big part of (all of) our lives. Eating involves many things, such as sustenance, satisfaction, necessity, conversation, controversy, love, happinesses, losses, and so much more…
My dad loved eating.One of his favorite foods was pork. And banana cream pie, and chicken fried steak (I’m still not sure which he liked more), but that is another discussion.
Linda, his dear wife, my step-mother and friend, will eat pork, but, she prefers so many other things more; such as, any kind of vegetable, muesli, crab cakes, basted eggs, duck à l’orange, leg of lamb, and..yes, polenta.The first time I ate polenta was with her, during one of our first outings, just us two gals! We ate at a (then) new place in Pioneer Square called Carmine’s, owned by the late Carmine of Il Terrazzo Carmine’s, which was(and still resides) just across the street from the new place and a block east of my, at the time, loft.
I met Linda at the entrance after work, while Dad was in attendance of a ballgame at the old Kingdom (long before it was imploded). The brick arches, low light and casual air about Carmine’s was in stark contrast to the formality of it’s mothership across the street; a place known by those with old money and (some of) Italian decent. It is still favored by those in-the-know who have been in residence here for awhile. Even us without said old money or Italian heritage.
Linda and I were seated at a booth, down the narrow hallway toward the back, but still central to the fantastic chaos of casual kitchens. We both ordered wine, white wine is all I remember of that. Then the waiter, with dark hair and a thick mustache rambled out the specials of the evening. I had barely heard a thing when Linda said we would take the bruschetta. And so it was then, that I was first introduced to polenta. The special appetizer du jour: polenta bruschetta, which consisted of grilled bread, topped with grilled polenta and a smattering of cheese, surely a heavy dose of garlic, and perhaps herbs? To me at the time, it was a revelation.I wanted to know what this marvelous food was and how I could make it for myself. I have never replicated that bruschetta, but polenta has been in my repertoire ever since I was able to figure out the best way to make it (hint: proportions are critical, as are consistency and seasoning).
Had Dad been dining with us, he would have asked that the bread be burnt. Dad liked his toast burnt, and the more burnt the better.I share this trait with him, but I am more of a timid toast burner, with tendencies toward the slightly-charred side of the spectrum, rather than the actual blackened end.Actually, had Dad been dining with us, he would have ordered the mussels to start and proceeded to eat each and every one, sopping up the sauce with (burnt) toast. He would have done this, all the while looking across the table at us as he made a crack or two about our plain, uncolored plate of polenta. He would have spoken in his light-hearted, sarcastic voice, right eye lit with a slight sparkle under his enormous eye brow, squinting disapprovingly, with just enough of a snicker at the end that let us know he was having a wonderful time. The waiter would arrive back and Dad would ask him to leave the pitcher of ice tea right before ordering a pork chop, double-cut and sauced in whatever it was sauced in, or served with at the time. To finish would be a monstrous dessert, especially if there was one on the menu with bananas, and especially if it was also accompanied by creme.
The coffee must be hot, the milk in it warmed, and if he were drinking that night, a long pour of whiskey, two pieces of ice and water, just so.
I raise my glass to Dad, and finish with a meal that he would have surely and thoroughly enjoyed, polenta and all.
In fond remembrance of G. Kent Edwards (aka: Dad, Father, Kent, Grandpa Kent, Friend), 1939 -2021 – Salute!
Sous Vide Pork Chop over Creamy Polenta, Puddletown Apple Chutney & a garnish of fresh herb salad
French for “under vacuum”, sous vide is a remarkable way to cook and an ironic way to describe my emotions at this moment. I know my father would have loved this pork; so tender, simple and delicious. A large, gregarious man with a huge appetite but simple tastes, this dinner would have made him rave (although, he might have preferred tater tots to polenta…talking to you brother Mark).
Author:Stacey Bender
Ingredients
Scale
PORK
(2) 1 inch thick boneless pork rib chops
1 tsp “Stacey’s Magic Mix” (aka: 1 part each Maldon’s sea salt, black pepper corn, coriander seed, cooked in a low oven temp until fragrant, grind fine)
1 clove garlic, minced
1 TB butter and 1 TB olive oil
Herbs (whatever you have fresh or none at all), chopped
POLENTA
1 1/2 cups water
1/2 cup corn meal (preferably…)
1 TB butter
1/2 tsp salt
2 cloves garlic, slightly crushed
1/4 cup grated mozzarella (optional)
SALAD
Chopped fresh herbs and greens such as:
Baby kale
Thyme
Basil
Arugula
Green onions
Tarragon (but Dad was not a fan of this herb)
Italian parsley
Instructions
Polenta
Bring the water, salt, butter & garlic to a simmer.
In a slow stream, whisk in the cornmeal.
Turn the heat to low, continuously stirring until it thickens. Stir in the grated cheese and keep warm until serving.
Salad
Clean and chop enough for each plate to have just enough (this is a personal decision as to how much is needed).
PORK
Dry each chop with paper towel and sprinkle with the magic mix.It should evenly coat each chop but not saturate.Rub this in and let sit until you are ready to cook.As everyone who knows me knows, I am not one to hurry.Dad often ate well past his mealtime.
Heat a pan on high and add oil to just coat the bottom of the pan.Add the pork, turn the heat to medium and scatter the garlic over tosear (a minute or two).
Turn and turn off the heat. You might choose to lift the chops so as to sear the edges as well.
Meanwhile, fill a stockpot with water, insert your Joule or other sous vide device and set heat to 144 degrees F.
Add the meat and juices to a sous vide bag, add a smidge of maple syrup and seal the bag, sealing out the air.
Put the bag in the water and turn in the timer.
When done, remove from bag and pat meat dry.Sear in butter, slice and serve over polenta, alongside a nice apple chutney topped with the herb salad.
Notes
At a time like this, shortcuts are necessary and in this case, very welcome. Puddletown Pub Chutney is a chutney of apples, onions, coffee and beer (seriously). A perfect combination for many occasions, I think. It is delicious alongside this pork and polenta as well as many other things. Check it out, I don’t get paid for promoting anything here.
It was nearly 20 years ago when I first wrote a recipe for Snow Day Chili. That was the first chili I ever made as an adult which was not from a can. Several years later, I journaled about my updated chili titled, Snow Day Chili – Part Deux.
I am a big fan of chili, mostly because I am a lover of beans, and spice. I love that it is so flavorful, satisfying, works well with various toppings and can easily feed a crowd.
I don’t usually feed a crowd when I make chili however. When entertaining, it seems much too pedestrian to serve for as little as we entertain. Although, last year, right after Christmas, we hosted an après ski party that consisted of three kinds of chili, a whole host of go-withs, and numerous (quantities and types of) drinks. We had hoped it could be an annual *thing* but then, well you know the rest; COVID-19 decided to put the ka-bash on that idea (for now).
So here we are in February, one long year later, and not so long after Punxsutawney Phil came out of his blasted burrow and yet again, proclaimed us to have 6 more weeks of winter. Varmint.
It had been a mild winter thus far, so to speak (as long as we don’t speak of the larger world affairs). So 6 more weeks of status quo seemed doable to me.
The sun has been coming out more often and it has stayed lighter out even almost past 6pm, at least enough to notice a change in the right direction. This is the time of year when I usually begin to see the end of the cold and begin dreaming of once again living outdoors more often than living in the confines of a dwelling.
Our garden still had greens and living things. Our Rhododendrons began blooming and it was exciting to think of pulling off the covers to our patio loungers and spiffing up the surfaces that have patina from the harsh conditions of our Pacific Northwest weather. The tropical beach that we missed visiting this year would soon be substituted with kayaking on a lake, basked with sun.
Tom kept informing me of an upending forecast for snow; as it usually does sometime far too long past Christmas. I couldn’t imagine that this year it would. The forecast came and went with no snow and more sunnier days. Finally a breath of relief for a soon to be Spring dream.
As that little boy that cried wolf, Friday came around and yet again Tom swore this time it would snow. I looked outside and while hoping per chance, maybe, I just couldn’t imagine it would.
I woke up early Saturday morning to the sound of Winston’s usual high-pitched bark indicating it was time to relieve himself from his 3rd late-night snack. I stumbled out of bed scooping him up and carried him to the back door, when I noticed it was brighter out than usual and as I stepped onto the deck. I then realized why. Snow was piled so high that I was wet up to my shins as I carried him down to the yard to under his canopy where it was clear. Or clear-ish.
That night, grilling burgers had been planned for, but in light of this new predicament, I decided it was time to bring out my journals and look up my snow day chili recipe instead.
I found it on page 118 of volume 4, and after reading it through beginning to end, I decided that I was apparently much too fussy back then. This recipe needed a rewrite and so rewrite is what I did.
So, I now offer a simpler plan.
Snow day is for PJ’s!
Can we make snowball soup? Dad says we just need to bring it inside!
A classic chili made with beef and beans. Feel free to add additional vegetables such as bell peppers and zucchini to round out the nutrition. As with most hearty stews/chilis/soups, it is best served the next day, but can be enjoyed right away too.
I enjoy a thick dollop of sour cream and diced avocado, but it is also wonderful to top with grated cheddar or mozzarella and scatter in chopped, green onions and cilantro as well or instead.
Author:Stacey Bender
Ingredients
Scale
1 1/2 cups mixed dry beans
1 bottle beer
2 cups water
1 TB veal demi glace
1 tsp ancho chili powder
1 TB ground cumin
1 tsp adobo sauce from chipotle chilis
1 wedge lime squeezed of juice
1 tomato, diced
2 TB olive oil
1 1/4 lb ground beef
Sea salt and pepper for seasoning
1 tsp ground chipotle chili powder
1 red or white onion chopped (approximately 2 cups)
3–5 cloves garlic, chopped
1/2 raw jalapeño, seeds and stem removed, chopped
2 stalks celery, chopped (approximately 1/2 cup)
2 carrots, peeled and chopped (approximately 1/2 cup)
2 (14 1/2 oz) cans diced tomatoes
1 large jalapeño, roasted over flames or under broiler, skin on, stem and partial seeds removed, chopped
Instructions
Put beans though tomato ingredients in pressure cooker and cook on high for 18 minutes
Heat oil in a sauce pan and add beef with a sprinkle of sea salt and pepper. Let brown without stirring for approximately 10 minutes or until it is brown and is no longer sticking on the bottom side. Stir and add onions letting all brown another 5-10 minutes, stirring once or twice.
Add garlic, celery, carrots and peppers. Continue cooking over low until they begin to tender, approximately 15 minutes.
Add the cans of tomatoes along with the roasted pepper and bring to a simmer. Adjust seasonings as needed.
When the beans are done and pressure is released, add 2 tsp salt and a drizzle of olive oil. Let sit for 1/2 hour or so the take in the seasoning. Taste and adjust as needed.
In a large, oven-proof vessel, combing the bean mixture with the meat mixture and bring to a simmer, stirring occasionally.
Cover the vessel and transfer to the oven to let cook for 1 hour or more to develop flavor. Uncover and continue to let thicken until your desired consistency.
Notes
If you don’t have a pressure cooker, you can soak the beans overnight and let cook over the stove until just tender (approximately one hour).
Dreaming of Spring (and butterflies and squirrels, oh my)!
Reflecting on an unusual year, I felt it would be fitting to do something a bit unusual myself.
So, because this is not what you would expect from me and it is not something I would have expected to like SO MUCH, I give you a nostalgic throw-back hors d’oeurve which was hand-delivered to our doorstep by none other than the man behind this blog’s banner, our good friend Pete.
Pig in a pinwheel.
Yes, you heard me correctly.
Come on, let’s face it, we could all use a little nostalgia right now and a hot, cheesy hors d’oeurve! One of the best things to come through in 2020.
I am not sure I’ve ever eaten ham from a can. If I made these myself, I’m not sure I would use ham from a can. But these were tasty and unexpected…
…and as you might note, not exactly as pictured in the article (for the better) from which they came – written in the Men’s Health (?!) magazine, circa December 2002. Obviously, men will think anything they want to be healthy… is.
Who knew that Pete could improvise in the kitchen? Kudos! As stated in his text to me after I requested the recipe (which first came with the above attached article).
“This is the original … then improvised with seasonings/additions.”
The next text said this:
“(This time) mine had ham, cream cheese, shredded cheese, green onion, jalapeño, mustard, salt, pepper in crescent roll dough”.
I know, not very specific but the result was delicious.
What kind of shredded cheese and how much?
Jalepeño – seeds in or out? Chopped, diced or just the slice? After delving in, it appears to be seeds out (except 1 or 2 left in for good kick), plus some small chopped in along with the slice on top.
Dijon mustard or do you only have French’s Pete?
The point here though is this: Don’t sweat the small stuff. These would be pretty hard to mess up, make to taste.
So to all you men out there grab a can and make your plan!
On another note, my furry little man turned 14 today and as the clock struck midnight, he rang in the new year in his usual dapper dude style.
That man has no can, but always a plan for eating his next meal. Today, it will be roasted pork tenderloin with green beans and squash.
Sleepy towns and big parades. The fourth of July is synonymous with fireworks, firetrucks and pancakes. At least it used to be before the summer of 2020. My brother and his Family used to have a vacation place in the seaside town of Manzanita, OR. In winter, a quiet place where you might not see a soul unless you were having dinner at the local pizza joint.
In the warmer months, it comes alive and is filled with the cries of happy children playing on the beach, racing their bicycles up and down the main drag or simply running amuck the way kids do when they are allowed to be kids.
The sidewalks are filled with people and strollers and dogs. Lots of dogs. The people stroll breezily along, dodging in and out of the many shops or carrying boogie boards and kites as they make their way to the beach.
The beach is at the end of the main street, right near that pizza place, which is also the doughnut shop and the coffee stop (next door). All three reside under the same roof with two or three manning the one cash register and a buzz of activity in the kitchen beyond. I have yet to have a better pizza elsewhere and don’t consider it an official start of the day until I’ve sat outside on the bench, with my dogs, my brother and a bag of breakfast. Sometimes a doughnut and cappuccino, other times the breakfast croissant and fresh orange juice. Either way, after a bike ride on the beach, stopping at Marzano’s makes me feel like it is the beginning of a glorious day!
On the fourth of July, all those people could be found at the firehouse, eating pancakes before the big parade. I have never actually eaten pancakes at the firehouse, but I couldn’t help but remember the many years of riding my bike past the sign that announced that particular big pancake feed. The night before, there were already chairs lined up and down the streets to await the parade that followed. It was tradition. I hope it still is.
Yesterday, I awoke to the sound of people walking by our house, in packs. I sat at my desk watching them carry folding chairs. Some wore masks and some did not. The chairs were set up on the corner, just past our street.
Even our sleepy town has a fourth of July parade and this year, even though it was not the usual gathering, the firetrucks, the medics, the police and even the Mayor, did a drive by through the neighborhood, honking horns and sounding the sirens to the delight of the children, young and old.
Pancakes, hot cakes, breakfast cakes. Easy to make and perfect for a lazy Sunday morning or a quick bite before heading off to the Fourth of July Parade.
The batter can be used a day or two later as well. The cooked pancakes can also be frozen to pop in the toaster for that quick, off-to-work kind of affair too. Just add syrup, berries or both.
Author:Stacey Bender
Ingredients
Scale
1 1/4 cup bread flour (or all purpose flour) 1 TB brown coconut sugar 1 tsp baking powder 1 tsp kosher salt
2 eggs, separated 1/2 cup whole milk 1/2 cup cream on top, plain yogurt 1 tsp apple cider vinegar 1 TB maple syrup 2 TB butter, melted and cooled slightly
Blueberries, optional
Instructions
In a large bowl, sift together the dry ingredients.
2. In a medium bowl, whisk the egg whites to fluff and then whisk in the milk, yogurt, vinegar and syrup.
3. Whisk the egg yolks and then whisk in the melted butter.
4. Add the egg white mixture to the dry ingredients and stir just unit it comes together (lumps are okay).
5. Stir the egg yolk mixture into the other mixture.
6. Cover and refrigerate for at least 15 minutes.
COOK
On a hot griddle wiped with some coconut oil or other non-burning fat, plop spoonfuls of the batter spaced an inch or two apart. If using berries, drop the berries onto the wet surface of the pancake now. Let cook, undisturbed, until bubbles form on top.
Using a spatula, flip the cakes over. The tops should be golden. If not, add a little butter to the pan and let it seep underneath. Continue cooking a few minutes more.
Serve with butter and a good-quality maple syrup, or topping of your choice. Grilled pork sausages or bacon and fresh peaches are a flavor explosion not to be missed in these lovely months of summer.
In this crazy world, I feel less like I ama nut (there are plenty of thosecrazy kind of nuts to fill that bill; you’ve been reading the news?!) and more like eating a big handful of them (the edible variety, that is).
One of my favorite things, lately, is to start my morning with a semi-small bowl of really good (high emphasis on that), full-fat, plain, Greek-style yogurt mixed with Vital Proteins collagen powder, tossed about with blueberries and (wait for it…) finally, topped with a healthy scoop of my homemade granola. My granola, by the way, is chocked-full of three kinds of nuts and four kinds of seeds. Healthy stuff here!
I mix up the batch with just enough sweetener (maple syrup and coconut sugar) to counter-balance the tartness of the yogurt, but not enough to make me feel like I am eating something you know, overly sweet. There are coconut chips in there too, which crisp up to the perfect texture and leave you fully satisfied about not having added more sugar! Trust me on this. Just wait and judge me later. If you are on the sweet tooth train, by all means, add more. I don’t think it is needed. My humble opinion, not everyone else’s.
My fat of choice (to create the toasty qualityneeded for a proper granola), is olive oil. Why, you ask? Because that is usually the most appropriate oil I have in my pantry. Yes, I suppose I could use butter, but I’m thinking that could easily burn and I have been known to forget to check in on the items in the oven (as my husband likes to remind me; don’t ask about last night’s soup prep, but I digress). I sometimes mix in little dabs of coconut oil too, but lately I have been keeping it a little less coconut intense. That might change at any moment, but for now I leave it sitting on the sidelines for cooking something else.
If I were treating my granola like my smoothies, there would be ample bits of ginger to add a fiery heat. Instead, I choose cardamon, cinnamon and vanilla to tweak the flavor bursts instead.
I mixed my last batch nearly 2 months ago, so it was time to make another batch. This never went stale, by the way. It was good to the very last bit.
Did I mention how easy this is to make? I usually refrain from saying that because that statement is usually met with the rolling of eyes, “oh, please…”! But this one really is easy!
My current favorite yogurt is Alexandre (CA), followed closely by Ellenos (WA). These are available locally to me, Ellenos is local. Sorry. I bet you also have some great yogurt local to you. Try that one.
I have worked at my share of Italian restaurants over the years and eaten at even more.
The first (that I worked at) was Umberto’s, which used to be in Pioneer Square next the Kingdome. For those that don’t know, the Kingdome was the home to Seattle Mariners long before we had Safeco Field (now T-Mobile Park with it’s Gawd-awful pink sign), but I digress. The Kingdome has been gone so long now (via a staged explosion that will remain a historical event) that many of the (newer) current residents of Seattle, might never have attended a ball game at the “Dome”..
At the time, I lived down the block from Umberto’s, in a loft overlooking Waterfall Park. I loved going to work each day, which was less than a 3 minute walk through (back then) fresh air. I was usually welcomed into the space with the enchanting (and delightfully fragrant) smell of garlic, still cooking.
Our clever chef welcomed in the lunch crowd by first, heating several pans of olive oil with chopped garlic, then immediately walking about the restaurant, infusing it’s tantalizing smell around each table before opening the doors for service.
It was at Umberto’s that I perfected my cooking of swordfish (after an emergency visit to the kitchen while preparing my first roof top dinner party; our chef helped me make the sauce 30 minutes before my guests arrived; a sauce I still prepare today (except using fresh orange juice rather than from concentrate).
I also learned to make my favorite pasta, radiatori pepperoncini which kept me baffled by how damn good it was, how light it seemed and (later learned) how bad it was for my fat watching, calorie counting, 1990’s twenty-something-self. I ate it anyway, demi-glacé, heavy cream and all.
Next up was The Poor Italian, a humble, family-owned place where Grandma was the main chef in the kitchen and all recipes were hers. Well she was the owner’s-wife’s-mother and well, he was kind of a jerk. The staff was very close though and we all felt a little bit like family.
We hung out together, ate together and generally looked out for one another. The music for dinner service came from a CD player behind the service bar, where each of us had to keep feeding it, one CD at a time; the good ‘ol days.
The Poor Italian is where I was introduced to Stan Getz, along with an “almost” affection for some opera. I also learned how to properly pound a chicken breast for Italian chicken classics and the most delicious way to make calamari (calamari steak, doré-style).
As it turned out, I didn’t learn “Grandma’s” technique well-enough because even though calamari doré was my favorite thing on the menu, when I cooked it for my future husband, while we were still dating, it went immediately into the trash. This was one of only a few meals that went the same way in 27+ years. Needless to say, I have never made it since. No complaints being heard either.
I moved on to Ristorante Buongusto, a neighborhood joint owned by two Italian brothers who couldn’t have been more different from one another. One was the executive chef, a smart-ass, loud-mouth womanizer, whose wife left him for another woman. The other was the front-of-house guy; sweet, elegant and wildly charming; his wife was none of those things. The food was un-fussy but superb. Buongusto gave me an appreciation for simple food with lots of flavor. I learned of a mixture called battuto which consisted of olive oil, chilis, garlic and herbs which was used for dipping bread. Tom loves this. I also learned to make tiramisu, aglio e olio and fresh puttanesca sauce, plus gained a lot of fond memories of the neighborhood where my husband and I first lived for years before and after we were married.
Then was my time at Italia. I adored working at Italia. Italia was a lovely, quaint, authentic restaurant/retail venue owned by then, Mayor Paul Shell. It was located in a terrifically quaint building clad in brick, ivy and history, just north of Pioneer Square. It was there that I learned how to make tomato sauce that was authentic, pepperoni pizza that was superb and appreciate sweet breads without knowing what they actually were at first. I ate the sweet bread pappardelle every night for a week before realizing I was eating, well, you know. Talk about an education. If you have to look it up, don’t. Just go to a great restaurant and try it. Poor Tom ate that pepperoni pizza every night I worked, after I finally came home late at night, no wonder he has reflux.
What I will pass onto you, from my experience, is this:
Restaurants will always be a fabric of our society, even in the wake of the current pandemic that is threatening their very subsistence.
The fabric is different now, that much we know. The question isn’t will they go on (?) but how (?) and in what form (?).
I hope the generations that are yet to come will be able to find the same joys that I and many others have found in the existence of restaurants, both working and dining.
I hope they continue to be a “necessary business” because they make all of our lives more educated, civilized, social and enjoyable.
Salute!
As a last word, I will also say this:
All you need to know about making great food is to keep it simple, keep it real and the rules are not always best to be followed.
Are we Italian?
What’s not Italian about my medallion?
I have the wink down! Still working on the paw gestures.
Spaghetti Aglio e Olio is a traditional Naples staple. Garlic is sautéd in olive oil and chili flakes before tossing with fresh cooked pasta. As delicious as this is, it is far too simple for me. Here I have combined the simple preparation of that dish with the added flavors of my beloved radiatori pepperoncini. The combination of techniques results in a highly flavorful and fully satisfying pasta dish that you can tweak to your own liking, by removing or adding ingredients at your whim.
Author:Stacey Bender
Yield:2 servings 1x
Cuisine:Italian
Ingredients
Scale
1/2 lb fresh spaghetti
1/4 cup olive oil
5 cloves garlic, chopped
1/4 tsp chili flakes
5 pepperoncinis, sliced
1/4 cup fresh, diced tomato
6 oz torn or cubed roast chicken, skin removed
1/2 cup veal demi-glacé
a few tablespoons heavy cream (indeed)
1–2 oz grated Parmigiano-Reggiano (or to your liking)
1/4 cup chopped, fresh parsley
Instructions
Cook the pasta and drain (saving a little pasta water if you prefer to use that over demi-glacé or stock.
Meanwhile, heat the olive oil to hot, but not burning and add the garlic and chili flakes. Cook a minute or two, being careful not to let it brown.
Add the tomatoes and pepperoncini, then the chicken; cook another minute or two.
Add the demi-glacé (or stock or pasta water) and heavy cream.
Simmer a few minutes to thicken.
Stir in the pasta to coat and heat through.
Toss in 1/2 the parmesan and 1/2 the parsley to coat.
Divide amongst warm pasta bowls and garnish with the remaining parmesan and parsley.
Notes
For the pepperoncini, you could substitute fresh chopped chilis, such as jalapeño or you could use a roasted hot pepper, such as from the brand “Jeff’s Garden”.
For the chicken, you could also grill, poach or sauté fresh skinless, boneless chicken breast, or omit it altogether for a vegetarian meal.
I’ve also omitted the pepperoncini and used Nicoise olives instead if you prefer to keep it on the not-so-spicy side.
