Knife-Fork-Spoon

Bruschetta, Anyone?

Let’s hear it for September! You’re one of my favorite months.

Summer is my least-favorite season. I hate the heat and humidity. And I’m sorry weatherpeople, but 70 and 80 degree temps are hot–not comfortable. Well, unless the norm is in the 90s and 100s. I guess it’s relative. September is back to school time (oh how I miss school) and cooler temps. Of course, it might take until late September for the cooler weather, as we’ve had some very hot weather in Septembers past. But, there is hope.

I don’t hate everything about summer. I mean really, how can anyone not love the fresh produce. I was driving the other day and found another farmer’s market. Of course I had to check it out. I love that besides the “formal” farmer’s market, there are several that just seem to pop up all over town.

Farmer’s markets aren’t the only places to get fresh, locally grown produce in my city. Two of our local grocery stores claim to have locally grown produce. In one, there’s no real proof; we have to take its word for it. The other, Wegman’s, lists the name and address of the farm that provided the locally grown fruits and vegetables. I try to buy local when I can, whether it be at Wegman’s or one of the farmer’s markets.

Oh How I Love Bruschetta

I love to cook (obviously), even in the summer. But, I also live in an apartment that gets hot quickly and stays hot for a long time. That’s great for winter, but in the summer, not so much. One of my favorite summer meals is bruschetta. It’s easy, it’s quick, and it tastes wonderful.

I’m guessing there are as many recipes for bruschetta as there are people who make it. Here are the ingredients for mine:

fresh tomato

fresh basil

garlic–chopped fine

Italian bread

Parmesan cheese

red onion

olive oil

butter

You’ll notice there are no amounts listed. That’s because it all depends on the size of your bread and the number of bruschetta you’re making. This is more about technique.

Bruschetta with Braised Cucumber

1. Prepare tomatoes

Half and deseed. Chop into small to pieces. Place in a strainer and add a small amount of salt. Stir and let drain. This removes extra liquid, and you really don’t want soggy bruschetta.

2. Prepare the other toppings (except Parmesan)

Chop a small amount of red onion and fresh basil. Add to the tomatoes after they have drained and set aside.

3. Cooking

Heat a large skillet over medium heat. Slice the bread into 1/2 inch thick slices. When skillet is hot, add about 1/4 inch olive oil and 2 tablespoons of butter. Allow the oil and butter to get hot, but don’t let the butter burn. Add the bread, a few slices at a time (don’t crowd). After it browns on one side, turn over and brown the second side. When golden brown, remove. Immediately top with Parmesan cheese and the rest of the toppings. If desired, drizzle with extra virgin olive oil. Enjoy!

Bruschetta Options

If fresh tomatoes are not available, use canned, diced tomatoes. Be sure to drain well.

Dried basil can be used, but it has a stronger flavor than fresh, so add cautiously.

Don’t like basil? Use fresh spinach.

Bread can also be prepared in the broiler.

Don’t want a really strong garlic flavor? When bread is ready, rub each slice with a cut garlic clove.

Experiment. Make it your own.

Yes, I’m Back

To say it’s been a while would be a major understatement. My lack of posting on this blog was not borne of a sudden lack of interest in food, cooking , or eating. Actually, I’m not sure why I stopped. These things happen. But, regardless of the reasons, I’m back. And so is talk of food, cooking, and eating.

As much as I hate the heat and humidity of summer, I love it’s bounty. There’s not much better than homegrown tomatoes. Not much at all. For as long as I can recall, they’ve be high on my list of favorite foods. When I was a child, I had to limit my intake of tomatoes, as well as oranges and other high-acid foods. If I didn’t–and it was hard, because I considered catsup a beverage–I’d break out in hives. I no longer get hives, but I do sometimes get heartburn if I partake of high-acid foods.

I also love fresh cucumbers. My mother used to make wonderful bread-and-butter pickles from the cucumbers we grew in our garden. I asked her for the recipe a while back, and she told me she couldn’t find it anymore. The same goes for the cold ketchup she made from the tomatoes we grew. (I’ve never been able to find anything like her cold ketchup; the closest would probably be salsa but without the spices). I make refrigerator dills. I love pickles, so I make them by the gallon. Unfortunately, it’s been almost impossible to find fresh dill in the market. Plenty of cucumbers, but little fresh dill. I’m still looking, because I have a gallon jar just waiting for the next batch.

On Pickled Pigs Feet and Cheddar Cheese

Another holiday season has come and gone. Funny how fast it seems to come and just how quickly it’s over. I’ve loved reading posts about family celebrations, and, of course, it’s made me remember mine. We’ve never been particularly close, but it didn’t stop us from enjoying the holidays.

Our holiday celebration was usually low key. My father worked as much overtime as he could at his job and then worked odd jobs to supplement his income. We didn’t have a lot of extras, but his hard work made certain that we had food on the table and a roof over our head. There was always a Christmas tree, usually a wreath of some kind, and assorted holiday statues placed around the house.

And presents. There were always lots of presents under the tree. Though there were presents from my brother and I to our parents, as well as all of our presents for relatives we’d see on Christmas Day, most of the gifts were for us. My parents tried to spend the same on both of us, and they made sure each of us had the same number of gifts under the tree. Sometimes, that meant wrapping a couple of gifts in one package, but my parents didn’t want it to seem as though they were playing favorites.

When it comes to presents, I mostly mean my mom. She was in charge of choosing, getting, and wrapping most of the presents that would come from her and my father. After all, Dad was busy working. When he wasn’t working at his full-time job or an odd job, he spent hours in the garage, tinkering on one thing or another. Family time centered mostly around meals and Sunday trips to my paternal grandparents’ house. I had friends whose fathers were more involved in family time, but that wasn’t our family. And there was seldom any overt signs of affection–you know, hugs and kisses–between my parents and my brother and I. It wasn’t a matter of whether our family was the way we wanted it to be, it’s just the way it was.

One Christmas there were 2 extra gifts under the tree. My mother said she had no idea what they were. My brother and I kept close tabs on what gifts were under the tree from the first night the tree went up. And, in all honesty, I became quite adept at opening and reclosing packages; there were few surprises for me when we gathered to open gifts. My brother and I were certain those 2 gifts had not been there the last time we had investigated. I knew that I hadn’t had a chance to perform my clandestine package surgery on the one marked “To Ida from Santa.”

As we settled in to unwrap presents that particular Christmas Eve, my father told us to leave those 2 packages for last. So, we opened all the others (and I acted appropriately surprised). We got most of what we wanted, and we knew that when we awoke the next morning, the “real” gifts–the major gifts–would be there from Santa. Finally, it was time for the mystery gifts. My brother and I tore into the packages and there they were: a bottle of pickled pigs feet for my brother and a package of cheddar cheese for me.

These might seem like odd gifts to you. OK, they would probably seem like odd gifts to anyone. But in truth, these were very special gifts, though it took me several years to realize just how special they were. My mother was not an imaginative cook. She’s gotten more experimental over the past few years, but when we were all at home, meals were pretty plain. My dad knew what he liked, and that’s what she fixed. Hamburgers, hotdogs, beans, and chicken were mainstays on the menu. And usually fixed only one or two ways. Canned soup was the usual lunch, but she would occasionally make a big pot of chili or what we called “gunk,” which was actually vegetable soup. We didn’t have pizza at home until I was in my early teens. And then, my father put butter on his. (No, I can’t explain it.)

When it came to treats, special foods, there weren’t a lot. But my dad loved his pickled pigs feet. This was an attraction he passed along to my brother. Though I tried them and liked the pickled flavor, I just couldn’t get past the fact that they were pigs feet. They were kind of expensive, and since my father and brother were the only ones who ate them, Mom didn’t buy them very often.

My culinary guilty pleasure at the time was cheddar cheese. Now, that might sound strange to you, after all, it’s not exactly an exotic cheese. To my family, however, cheese was either Velveeta, faux American cheese that came individually wrapped, or hunks of longhorn. There was also the occasional can of Parmesean cheese. One of my father’s handyman clients gave him a box of assorted cheeses one Christmas. I was in cheese lover heaven. My favorite was the cheddar, and happily, none of the others liked it. But, since it was just me, and it was expensive compared with the other varieties, the only time I had it was when someone else served it.

So, why were the gifts of pickled pigs feet and cheddar cheese so special? They were things we loved but rarely had. It meant Dad was paying attention to us. (We sometimes wondered, as he seldom called us by our names, just nicknames only he used.) There was real thought put into those gifts. It’s odd, but I have absolutely no recollection of what else we received that year. But the thrill of the pickled pigs feet and cheddar cheese is as intense today as it was then.

My father died 12 years ago, during the holiday season. And though we were never really close–especially during the last several years of his life–I smile when I remember that one particular Christmas. For at least that one moment, we shared, we were close, there was love.

On Milkmen, Fudge, and Snow Ice Cream

I often find myself getting all nostalgic this time of year. For some reason, many of my memories seem to pop out of nowhere. In the case of others, like milkmen, fudge, and snow ice cream, something will happen to trigger the memories. And it can make me downright homesick.

On Milkmen

I drink a lot of milk. In truth, I probably drink more than I should. But it could be worse. At least my milk of choice is fat-free milk. (And incidentally, when did they stop calling it skim milk?) My last couple of trips to the market have been to pick up milk. These trips made me long for the days of home milk delivery. When I was growing up in Iowa, it was always fun to go out, open the aluminum box emblazoned with the dairy logo, and talk out what he had left us that particular day. Where I grew up, we had a choice of Wapello Dairy and Meadow Gold Dairy. From what I can tell, these dairies no longer have a presence in the Hawkeye State.

That’s sad. So is the demise of the milkman. Yes, milkmen were the butt of many jokes that questioned a child’s parentage, but they provided a valuable service. Some dairies offered a wide variety of products available for home delivery, including milk, cream, eggs, and butter. We usually stuck to the milk and butter. If your household didn’t have a car or, as in my case, a mother who didn’t drive at the time, it was so convenient to step outside and find your dairy needs replenished.

Thinking about home milk delivery reminded me of something else I miss: glass bottles. There was nothing like getting ice cold milk from a glass bottle. Oh sure, sometimes it might have been difficult to pull of the paper tab to open the bottle, but it was well worth it. Eventually the dairy went to paper cartons, and well, it wasn’t the same.

Home milk delivery ended in my hometown long before my childhood. Today, it probably wouldn’t be good business practice to try and start it up again. Where I live now, it’s impossible to get grocery delivery, so it’s a sure thing that milk delivery would be scoffed at. Oh, there was a store that had grocery delivery, but it stopped when the largest grocery store in town changed its policy against being open on Sunday. They claimed that people could now get to the store whenever they wanted.

When I was being nostalgic about home milk delivery, it made me think of dairies in general. One of my favorite childhood memories involves another dairy: Williams Dairy. You could go buy your milk and cream there (and you could return the glass bottles for a refund), but the big attraction was the ice cream! There weren’t a gazillion flavors to draw you in, just really good ice cream. It was always a treat when our parents took us there for a cone. And it’s funny, I can still remember the smell as you opened the door, and it has been decades–I mean DECADES–since I was there. I really can’t describe the smell, but it meant that something good was on the way. Sadly, like many small businesses over the years, Williams Dairy was forced to close because it couldn’t compete with the large dairies. As I grew up, other businesses took over the space. The last one I remember was an auto parts place. It just doesn’t seem right.

On Fudge

My family wasn’t big on homemade sweets, but around holiday time, that changed. My mom made cookies (all right, she usually bought the Pillsbury cookie dough rolls), peanut butter fudge, and occasionally divinity. I loved making peanut clusters. And Dad made chocolate fudge. Now, there are lots and lots of recipes for chocolate fudge, but I still think the best one has always been the one on the can of Hershey’s Cocoa. For some reason, we never wrote down the recipe, so that meant going in search of a can of cocoa that had the recipe. And trust me, that wasn’t always easy. I could never understand why Hershey’s would make a can without the recipe; that would be like a bag of Nestle’s Chocolate Chips going out the factory door without the recipe for Tollhouse Cookies on it.

We had a special fudge pan. Well, it also doubled as the bean pan and the stew pan, but I prefer to remember the beat-up aluminum pan as the fudge pan. Dad would stand guard over the pan of fudge in the making, and I would be in charge of getting the water so he could do the “ball” test to see when it was done. Then it was stirring, and stirring, and stirring until it was just the right consistency and had that perfect amount of sheen. There was always fudge left in the pan, and my brother and I would share–yes, actually share.

I haven’t made chocolate fudge in many years. For one thing, my childhood love of chocolate is no longer there. And I don’t have one of those beat-up aluminum pans. No, I have nonstick, and maybe it’s me, but it just doesn’t taste the same. I haven’t seen the fudge recipe on a can of Hershey’s Cocoa for a long time, but I’m sure I could find it online. But I know I’d be disappointed. Some things just can’t be repeated.

On Snow Ice Cream

There were certain things that my father was in charge of when it came to cooking. He had been, after all, a cook in the army, so cooking for a few hundred less was nothing for him. Sunday night pancakes and french toast were his domain, as was chocolate fudge. And while those were good, my brother and I were especially fond of his snow ice cream.

Snow ice cream?

Yes, snow ice cream. Now, you have to know that this was back in the 1960s for the most part, and in Iowa. Today, I’m not sure I’d make it, at least not where I live in New York. But as a child, snow ice cream was another reason to look forward to heavy snowfalls. There were rules for making snow ice cream. There had to be at least 4 inches of fresh snow. After all, you had to make sure that the ground was completely covered; you didn’t want grass or dirt in your ice cream. And it had to be fresh, as the longer it was on the ground, the more chance there was for “things” to get in it. And it should go without saying that yellow snow was a definite culinary no-no.

Of course we had a specific pan for making snow ice cream. Mom had “earned” a large (and I mean large) roaster by hosting Stanley Parties and selling their products. This was also the pan for gunk–what we called Mom’s vegetable soup–but I digress. You need a lot of snow, so, obviously, you need a large pan. The ingredients are simple: snow, milk (Dad always used 2% or evaporated milk), sugar, and vanilla. You have to eat it fast, so an ice cream headache is often included as part of the experience. The mouth feel is unique, nothing like more traditional ice cream.

It’s unfortunate that many people will never have the experience of snow ice cream. I was going to post a recipe, but I’m not sure it’s a safe thing to make anymore. Even if you have a clean patch of snow, I worry about the atmosphere the snow traveled through on its way to the ground. It’s sad, but snow ice cream may be relegated to my memory of childhood.

Taking Stock

It’s that time of year. You know the time–the one when we take stock of the things we’re thankful for. Yes, we should do this year-round, but many of us don’t. It’s easy to understand why. We get caught up in everyday trials and tribulations, what’s wrong and not what’s right. And this year, for many of my online and virtual friends, there has been many hardships this year. Unless you’ve been living in a cave, the economy has been less than stellar this year. This has, of course, meant that many have lost jobs or had their hours cut–sometimes drastically. In many cases, this has also meant that much-need health insurance has been lost. It also means that, according to a recent report, 1 in 6 Americans have experienced hunger this year. And I’m not talking about people who have to go without dessert or must choose ground beef over ground round or chicken over beef. No, I’m talking about people who do not have enough food to eat. Period. As hard as it may be to believe, in this land of plenty, there are thousands of people who go to bed hungry from a lack of food.

Another thing a poor economy means is that some who have generously donated to charities in the past are unable to do so this year. Or perhaps their donations are drastically reduced. I know mine are, and I think that saddens me the most. This has been a difficult year for me financially, but I’ve been fortunate to be able to feed me and the cats who share their home with me. So, I will continue to make donations, but they will be much smaller.

There are many ways you can help feed those in need in your community and the country as a whole. Figure out how much the per person cost of your Thanksgiving meal is, and donate that amount to your local food bank or Feeding America. You might think that amount really won’t make a difference, but it will. Many grocery stores allow you to “round up” your bill, and the amount over is donated to a local food pantry. You’ll find many collection points for canned and other nonperishable food items. Pick up a few extra items during your next supermarket visit and donate them. You may make the difference between someone going to bed hungry and one who has had enough to eat.

Of course, there’s always places to volunteer your time. Many organizations have holiday meals; help serve or set up and clean up. Keep in mind that food pantries and kitchens often need volunteers throughout the year, not just at holiday time. Your help will be appreciated. You’ll make a difference in someone’s day.

So, Why Is It so Hard to Get a Good Can Opener

I don’t use canned items often, usually just tomatoes and black olives. I’ve been happy to use hand can openers on those rare occasions when I have to open a can that hasn’t been changed to the easy-open pull tabs. Because I use them so rarely, I’ve never really felt the need for an electric can opener. First, I don’t really have the counter space, and I hate unitaskers. Yes, I know that many electric can openers come with a knife sharpener, but I’m picky about what touches my knives.

For many years, I had a handy-dandy hand can opener. It wasn’t pretty, but it worked well. At least it did until recently. After many years, I finally had to admit that the time had come for a new one. So I replaced it. The replacement opened a few cans, with the emphasis on few. I replaced it with the one shown here. That can opener opened even fewer cans. What in the world had happened to the hand can opener? Have companies forgotten how to make one that works for any appreciable length of time?

Sadly, and kicking and screaming, I was dragged into the world of the electric can opener. If it was going to become part of my culinary life, the thing had to be able to do more than one thing. So, I looked around, did my research, and settled on the Hamilton Beach Openstation (I apparently have a thing for that company’s “station” products: my coffeemaker is its Brewstation). I suppose that technically speaking it is a unitasker, but there is an onboard bottle opener and jar opener. So far, so good. Let’s hope it lasts longer than my recent hand can opener purchases.

An Update

In a previous post, I mentioned that there is now a hand-held version of the Food Saver vacuum sealer. When I was looking for a can opener, I happened to see it at Target. It’s a nice-looking product, and the price was right at about $20. Well, it probably would have come home with me–if they had any. There were none available–not even a designated space on the shelf. There was nothing saying it would be out soon, just the display item. Seems silly to me; this would be a perfect time of year for such a product.

Oh, and there seems to be a conspiracy to make my Thanksgiving Day cooking more difficult. Besides my can opener problems, I broke my Kitchen Aid Hand chopper. Can I just say, “Crap”? So, I decided to replace it with the 3-cup Chopper. I have a 14-cup Cuisinart food processor, but this will be great for small things. Problems with my hands sometimes make knife work difficult, so this should be a great help. I REALLY wanted red but had to settle for white. My disappointment in that is, shall I say, pathetic.

Have a great Thanksgiving, everyone!

Taps for a Vac–and a Handi One at That

I am the queen of kitchen gadgets, although space and finances limitations have forced me to curtail my collection of said items. Yet, when I found the Reynolds Handi-Vac in a local supermarket, I couldn’t resist adding it to my collection.

Ours was a beautiful relationship from the time we met. Oh, this wasn’t my first food sealer, as I have one of the first home versions of the Food Saver. But while it was almost too large to keep on my limited counter space and bags could be purchased only online or locally at Walmart (which limited its use), I could pick up the Reynolds bags at almost any grocery store in the area. The Handi-Vac could fit easily in a kitchen drawer, but I preferred to keep mine in easy reach on top of the refrigerator. You might wonder if a $10 Handi-Vac works as well as my more than $100 Food Saver. I found it did, so I was a happy camper.

Fast forward.

For the past few months, I’ve found it increasingly difficult to find the bags for my Handi-Vac. There were plenty of the starter sets on the store shelves, but no bags in sight. Since my usual market had been purchased by another chain and its selection had suffered greatly since, I assumed that was why I couldn’t find the bags. But then I went to another store, and there it was: a sign on the shelf by the starter set. Imagine my shock and heartbreak when I read that dreaded word, “Discontinued.”

I couldn’t believe it. How could something so integral to my cooking life be discontinued? Is there no justice in the world? Is this a joke? As soon as I got home, I rushed to the computer and called up the Reynolds site. It was there that I learned my culinary life would no longer be the same. Why? It was true. Reynolds had decided to discontinue my beloved Handi-Vac. And who was responsible for this? The U.S. consumer. According to the notice on its website, the Handi-Vac didn’t catch on with the consumer.

That is a tragedy, an outright tragedy. Did consumers automatically assume that such an inexpensive product couldn’t work as advertised–or as well as the Food Saver and other similar products? Were consumers taken in by can-crushing demonstrations of the Food Saver? How sad, how very sad that consumers will not have the opportunity to get to know such a wonderful product as the Handi-Vac.

Now, don’t get me wrong. The Handi-Vac wasn’t perfect. Well, the bags weren’t. First, I could only find them in the quart size. I would have loved a bigger size. And though they were advertised as reuseable, I seldom used ones in which I stored meat more than once. It could be difficult to get the liquid from the meat (OK, the blood) out of the waffled section at the top of the bag. Still, it was a product that I used almost daily. Oh, and the vaccuum is extremely durable. Mine has survived several drops to the floor.

I saw where Food Saver is now offering a handheld version. And for now, at least, Handi-Vac bags are available on eBay. Still, it’s not the same. For me, losing the Handi-Vac is like losing a sous chef.

Happy National Pumpkin Month

Yes, indeed. Happy National Pumpkin Month. I love pumpkin. I have since I was a child. My mother knew that no matter what other kinds of pie she had, I had to have a pumpkin pie. For many years, that was the only kind of pie I would eat. I’m not sure why. It wasn’t because of whipped cream. Well, not technically; it was Cool Whip in our house. But, I even loved pumpkin pie without the topping.

To be perfectly honest, it wasn’t the entire pie that I longed for. I wasn’t a big crust eater. In fact, I ate the pie “innards” and left the crust. Of course, there was never any lack of volunteers to eat the crust. I just knew it wasn’t going to be me. Even today, I make the pumpkin pie filling as though I am going to make a pie, but then I pour it into a dish and bake the innards.

I loved making jack-o-lanterns, too. I’m not much of an artist, and the face-carving knife always felt unwieldy in my hands. But, when it came to scooping the insides from the pumpkin, there was no one better than I. Oh, and I didn’t need a spoon or ladle; I preferred to use my hands to clean out what I affectionately call the pumpkin “goo.” For some reason, and I do admit this is rather strange, I loved the feel of the seeds and the stringy pumpkin components, as they oozed between my fingers. I don’t carve jack-o-lanterns anymore, and I seldom use fresh pumpkin in baking or cooking. Oh how I miss the pumpkin goo.

Most people seem to think of pumpkin only at Halloween, Thanksgiving, and Christmas. Though I roast turkey throughout the year, for some reason, I don’t often think of making a pumpkin “pie,” custard, or cookies. Lately, when I seem to use pumpkin, it’s because one of the cats has an intestinal issue. But, when I heard there was going to be a shortage of pumpkins this year–including canned pumpkin–I went into pumpkin baking mode. I stocked up on canned pumpkin at the grocery store, and I baked pumpkin bread.

It is very good, if I do say so myself. You can find the recipe under Pages in the sidebar on the right. I tend to like my pumpkin bread spicy. If that’s not your preference, feel free to adjust the spice level to your tastebuds. Some people like cream cheese, ice cream, or whipped topping on their pumpkin bread. Me? I like mine plain–with a big glass of milk–or maybe with a thin schmear of butter (homemade is best, of course).

The next time a pumpkin craving hits, try pumpkin bread. It makes a wonderful breakfast, dessert, or snack.

(Oh, and National Pumpkin Pie Day is December 25. Thanksgiving would have made more sense to me but then that moves every year.)

Soup Is Good Food–Especially if there are noodles

The Slurp Factor

Today is National Noodle Day. To celebrate, I pay homage to one of the world’s greatest inventions: Campbell’s Soup. Especially the Chicken Noodle.

Let me preface this by saying that I believe my childhood preceded the invention of Lipton’s Cup a Soup. I think ramen noodles have been around since the beginning of time; I haven’t. But, I have been around longer than Cup a Soup.

My mom was a big fan of Campbell’s soup. It was easy to prepare, and all you needed to add was a supply of crackers to have an entire meal. (Mom was never a master cook.) It was inexpensive; we never had a lot of money, and their tomato soup could often be found for twenty-five cents a can. Plus, to quote a TV commercial from my childhood, my mother married my father for better or worse–and got him for lunch, too.

Sometimes my mom decided to treat us to a “higher class” of soup–boxed soup! Now remember, Cup of Soup wasn’t available. This was one of the original boxed soups. You bought a box containing an envelope containing dried soup mix, which you added to boiling water. My personal favorite was the chicken noodle soup.

Ahh, I can still remember it. As it simmered on the stove, the light chicken smell filled the kitchen. Unlike our more usual Campbell Chicken Noodle soup, this version didn’t leave a yellow ring-around-the pan (and later the bowl). It had a much lighter taste, and it was fun chasing the small pieces of parsley around the bowl with our spoons. The noodles were very short and very, very thin. And sadly, the noodles were the most disappointing part of this special lunch treat.

Chicken noodle soup is one of the world’s best inventions. It can help cure all ills, or at least make them a bit more tolerable; it didn’t earn the name “Jewish penicillin” for nothing. As an adult, I count chicken noodle soup as one of my specialties. Still, it’s not the same as Campbell’s.

Why? I use fresh ingredients, the best stock, and add that extra touch of love. And, my soup has chicken in it; the Campbell version of my childhood might have had three or four pieces of something called chicken in the entire can. What could I be doing wrong?

Nothing. Most of the time I prefer my version. Then there are those other times when nothing but Campbell’s Chicken Noodle soup will do. Even other canned soups don’t have the same effect. What is it about Campbell’s?

Well, there is the yellow ring, but the real difference is the noodles–the slurp factor. What greater joy was there as a child than to lift a soup spoon to my mouth–filled with broth and noodles–and slurp the noodles into my mouth? The sound of the slurp; the sensation of the noodles against my teeth and to my tongue, which caressed the noodles before releasing them down my throat. It was even better when the loss of childhood teeth left a direct path to the gums and a louder slurp. Of course it also meant a bigger laugh from my brother and father; Mom failed to see the humor.

As an adult, I’m not supposed to play with my food. I now know that the yellow residue probably means Campbell’s Chicken Noodle soup isn’t the most healthful food I can eat. But then, sometimes you just don’t care. You just have to slurp. And with 32 feet of noodles in every can (at least according to the commercial), that’s a mighty fine slurping time.

A Product Plug

Is it possible to love a product? Oh, I think so.
As a purist (hey, I make my own butter), I love making stock. However, I often don’t have time to do so, or I sometimes don’t have all the goodies I love to put into homemade stock. But, I still want the taste that comes with homemade stock. So, I have discovered a company that has done the work for me–Better than Bouillon (BtB).

I discovered this product on QVC. At the time, you received three jars of the paste and a cookbook. I don’t believe it’s available on QVC anymore, but most grocery stores seem to carry at least some of the flavors. And there are many flavors are available, including chili, beef, pork, ham, vegetable, clam, and my favorite, chicken. There are also organic and kosher varieties. If your store doesn’t carry BtB, it can be ordered online.

The paste easily dissolves in water, and the flavors are to die for. They really do taste and smell as though you’ve been cooking all day. Most are either low or no fat, and the sodium count is extremely low–no more eating a salt shaker with a little bit of flavor added. One word of caution, however. Start with an amount LESS than what is recommended on the label. The flavors are so intense that the suggested amounts can be a bit too strong. If you’re making something like soup, that’s easily remedied by adding more water, but it’s still best to start out on the cautious side. After all, it’s easier to add more than to remove excess.

As I mentioned, my favorite is the chicken base. One of my favorite weekend meals is Saturday Chicken Soup–with or without the noodles. With the intense flavor of the base, you really don’t even need the chicken, and more often than not, that’s how I prepare it. The recipe is in the Recipe section in the sidebar.

I happened to mention BtB on Plurk the other day. It seems to be a popular product for many of us who love to cook. It’s convenient, it’s tasty, and for me anyway, the results are much more reliable than when I make my own stock.

Hail to KitchenAid and Cooking to Win

The other day I asked some friends what their favorite kitchen appliance was, not counting stove and refrigerator. Among the favorites were counter ovens (such as Cuisinart’s Brick Oven), immersion blenders, a good set of knives (love my santoku), food processors, and blenders. But, the hands-down winner was the KitchenAid Stand Mixer. It didn’t seem to matter what model they had, those who own one find it indispensable. And, of course, I have one. Her name is Fiona. She’s one of KitchenAid’s Professional models with a bowl that lifts into place.

Fiona

I recently rearranged my very limited counter space to bring Fiona to the front. I don’t use her as much as I should but am hopeful that her more prominent position on the counter will change that. In fact, I used Fiona yesterday to make cookies. Yes, it was very hot in my house, but I had a cookie craving. And I caved.

Fiona is not my first KitchenAid Stand Mixer. My first, which was lost in a move, was the more “traditional” white. One of the main selling points of the KitchenAid Stand Mixer is its longevity. The other day, I was looking at an ad for the mixers. Yes, there were colors our ancestors knew–white and off white (now almond)–but there are so many others from which to choose. Now personally, I don’t know why anyone would want a gunmetal gray, but if you do, it’s there. And the green apple is gorgeous, as are the blue willow and buttercup. I wonder what those who bought the first model back in 1919 would think about the colors today’s cooks have available.

In order to be a kitchen workhorse, the KitchenAid Stand Mixer has had to prove its sturdiness. And these mixers are no lightweights, as anyone who has had to lift one very often can attest. But, did you know that the first one weighed 69 pounds! The Hobart Company, maker of industrial mixers, wanted to give restaurants an alternative to the large mixers that sat on the floor. And with that, Fiona’s ancestor was born. And we thank them for that. That and making it a more manageable weight.

Cooking to Win

Many of us who like to cook fantasize about entering cooking contests. Some do more than fantasize and actually enter a recipe–or several. Alas, few of us ever have a recipe chosen. We keep trying and pass the time watching cooking competitions on television. Whether you watch the various competitions on the Food Network or shows such as Bravo’s Top Chef, we all have the chance to live vicariously through the competitors–amateur and professional.

(Incidentally, am I the only one who is amazed when someone on, say, a Food Network burger competition, admits to not actually cooking the burger before sending in the recipe?)

The other day, I was watching a rerun of the Pillsbury Bake-off. I searched online for the next one and found that you can now vote for finalists. Check it out on the Pillsbury Bake-off site.

Here are a few cooking contests you might consider entering. You never know when your’s might be the prize-winning entry.

Best of the South Recipe Contest

Deadline is October 1, 2009. Grand prize: $5000.

1st French’s LIVE National Cook-Off

Grand Prize: $25,000

Submissions end October 31, 2009

Selection period runs November 8 through November 25 and includes online voting.

There will be a live cook-off in February or March.

Jif Most Creative Peanut Butter Sandwich Contest

This one’s for kids between the ages of 6 and 12. Deadline: November 13, 2009.

First prize is a $25,000 scholarship. Four runners-up will receive $2500 scholarships.

If you know of a cooking contest, please e-mail foodies@knife-fork-spoon.com with details, and I’ll post it here.