But, somehow, if you add a little Marsala wine or Gran Marnier, and some mustard, well is that another story all together?

So if you add it like that, with a little unsalted butter, refrigerate it, and serve it on Rosh Hashanah, are you being creative, or totally out of your mind?

Just wondering…

Walk into your kitchen. Open the cupboards. Pull out a little of this and a little of that. Tarragon is underrated, dill overrated – use sparingly. Chicken breasts, sauteed onions, wilted spinach, garlic, shallots, cream and grand marnier. Butter up the pan first, Salt and pepper the chicken. brown on both sides in a frying pan. Transfer to glass pan, cover with the shallots, spinach, etc. sauce. Bake until yummy.
enjoy. Whatever I did wrong, do it better. It’s late and I’m tired. Maybe tomorrow’s recipe will be more inspired. It will! It will!
loving dishes,
Margie

So, I moved to California (where else?), and instead of a dormitory, moved in with 2 other girls. I’d actually never cooked at all up to this point, and when we started talking about each taking a night to cook, I thought – “Oh my god! they must know what they’re doing!” (not exactly so, but I was a kid & have a tendency to take things at face value anyway)

It just so happened that my grandmother had written/edited a cookbook. It was called the “Jewish Home Cookbook” so named because it was actually a charity effort to support the jewish nursing home, referred to as the ‘jewish home’. I called her, and she sent it pronto.

As I said, I took them at their word that they meant cooking and they knew what they were doing, so I went and bought the ingredients for blintz’s. I don’t know why I started there, but I did.

Most of you know that cheese blintzes are very thin pancakes (crepes, basically) filled with a mixture of farmer’s cheese, cream cheese (equal parts), an egg, some good vanilla, and some cinnamon & sugar.
That may not sound like a very specific recipe, but you can get plenty of the traditional stuff anywhere. I do it to taste. So you combine the 2 cheeses, add the rest, and taste. You’ll know if a little more vanilla would give it that extra rich taste, or if it needs to be sweeter, etc.
Assemble them – edges first, then envelope and roll.

Then, I fry them! Really. I thought everyone did this, but apparently not. And use butter. There is nothing that is like butter, that isn’t butter.
So, hot frying pan, butter browning, but not boiling, the put them in, folded side down. Flip over when they’re ready, and when everything is golden brown, it’s time to eat. Serve with whatever you like. Sour cream is very nice, or fruit.

So, to the dinner with the girls. I went to all of this trouble and made these things with meticulous care, and they were perfect. We sat and ate, and it was lovely – more or less. They thought it was very good, and then we talked about other stuff. (fine 0 I didn’t expect applause, really!)

The next night it was Priscilla’s turn, and she threw together some tacos, and we ate. No big deal! Well, I was a little let down and a little confused. On the other hand, I was having fun, and decided to keep exploring.

The other story I have about blintzes is about my grandfather, but it’s for another day. I have to get back to work.

loving dishes,
Margie

Yikes.

Suffice it to say that it was a month before our first actual official date, and that Gail was a bridesmaid in our wedding. (don’t know what happened to the boyfriend once he stopped crying into the telephone for the 10th night in a row!)

The dinner was great, though complicated, given the personal dynamics. We went on our first date on Memorial day weekend, and got married 11 months later.

So far, so good.

Oh, – I still make great chicken soup.

loving dishes,
Margie

So, here goes:

I’m starting with mine, not the traditional. Those abound.
Butter and olive oil in a pot – get it hot – add kosher salt, fresh garlic, pepper, & some grainy mustard. Stir until browned, then throw in the onions you’ve cut up in which ever way you like. (this can depend on your mood. It does for me for some reason). Generally 2 big onions. the flame should be medium. You want to ‘caramelize’ them, because it add so much sweetness to the soup. Chop up some celery and add it when the onions are on their way.

Always, feel free to taste. It tells you everything.
Now, add water. A few cups to start. Then throw in the chicken – the whole chicken, fat trimmed (to some degree) and no liver. (sautee it later for yourself if you like chicken livers, or save it for pate.)

Then add enough water to cover the chicken. Light flame temperature, cover pot, and go read a book. (in the same room.)
Oh! – Carrots! Add carrots before the book part. Any size you like. I sometimes use those little ones that come in bags, my great aunt used to grate them. Her soup was incredible.

O.K. Now, go relax with your book. That was the work of it.

Let it boil for a few hours, taste-testing occasionally. What I’ll do, is once the chicken itself is cooked, I take it out, bone it loosely, and throw the bones back in. That way I have perfectly cooked chicken for sandwiches or salad. If you leave it in too long, it’ll get all dried out.
You’ll want to add salt, and when it’s near completion tarragon is nice, a little dill, and a pinch of sugar.
You’ll know it when it’s ready.

Did I leave anything out?
Matzo balls coming next post.

loving dishes,
Margie

I’ll start with my grandmother, who I’ve been thinking about a lot lately, in particular a saying she had. No matter what was going on, we’d talk about the latest crisis engulfing us, and then she’d say, “but other than that, everything’s fine” It has summed up my life lately. The details will hopefully be funny one day, but for now all I can say is, a teenage boy in heartbreak is a terrible thing. (it’s worse for the mom – I don’t know how much more of this brooding i can take!)

So he’s moping in the basement, and every so often he throws something (so far it’s the remote and other harmless items) – and my dad (he’s 89) calls and he wants to know what he should do about Tiger Woods losing a golf tournament. What should I say? I told him to yell at the TV, trying to be humorous, and inject a little reality, but all he said was – “I don’t think you’re taking this very seriously.” Well, I had to agree with that!

So, other than that, everything’s fine.

Back to chicken soup.

Here’s how I met my husband: (you may think I’m rambling way off topic at this point, but it may not be so)

It was Passover, and I was having about a dozen people for seder. My friend Gail called to ask if she could bring ‘someone’ with her. Of course. (In case you thought this was going to be a straight forward simple story, I’ll tell you that I was living with a man at this time, and it was not going well. But, as I am fond of saying, I like to clean up one mess before I make another.

So I mad a turkey with a matzo stuffing with Italian herbs. (don’t ask!)

But, of course it was the chicken soup that did it. I don’t even remember, but Doug says that it was love as soon as he saw me coming out of the kitchen with a big bowl of chicken soup. I guess the recipe doesn’t really matter at this point, does it?

What I’ve done:

I saute onions and celery in olive oil, butter and salt.(kosher salt – the best) I might add some tarragon and a touch of dill. Tarragon is great with anything chicken, but a little dill goes a long way. What else? Maybe some ground pepper, and some sweet mustard. (don’t tell anyone I said that)
I do the sauteeing in the same deep pot that I’ll boil the chicken in, so all the flavors

It’s written wonderfully, with great humor and style. I love this quote:

“There are a great many cooks whose background is ahead of them.”

…could be a lot of us!

loving dishes,
Margie

I always loved being at her house, and though I though her food was great, that wasn’t where I actually learned to cook. At her home, I learned about the joy of ‘serving’, feeding people to nourish and delight. (My mother’s refridgerator was always filled with vitamins, but that’s another story for another day – maybe)

Back to the nourishment, the nourishment of the soul through food, through a meal enjoyed together, and the supreme contentedness on my grandfather’s face.
That’s the seed.

More later,

loving dishes,
Margie

I always loved being at her house, and though I though her food was great, that wasn’t where I actually learned to cook. At her home, I learned about the joy of ‘serving’, feeding people to nourish and delight. (My mother’s refridgerator was always filled with vitamins, but that’s another story for another day – maybe)

Back to the nourishment, the nourishment of the soul through food, through a meal enjoyed together, and the supreme contentedness on my grandfather’s face.
That’s the seed.

More later,

loving dishes,
Margie Mintz