In the Beginning - Hints of Green at Restoration Farm

The storm is hellacious – belligerent wind and soaking rain. Nature is throwing a chilling late-winter tantrum. Yet, in a well-lit basement work area, a small group of volunteers is painstakingly focused on the promise of sun-drenched organic vegetables. The first CSA pickup is months away. Sometime in early June, members will arrive at the Restoration Farm distribution tent, and delight in that first look and taste of tender greens. Some may never consider how the journey of that verdant lettuce, hearty kale or sweet crimson beets began.

Head Grower Caroline Fanning is instructing a group of volunteers in the process of seeding. She is carefully organized with detailed lists, labeled flats and packets of seeds grouped together. Seed flats are stacked tall throughout the room, each packed with soil and designated for a specific food crop, herb or flower.

I’m given the task of sowing seeds for Red Ace beets. Each compartment of the flat must be “dimpled” to receive the seeds. I plunge an index finger into the cold soil to make the indentation. Larger seeds require deeper holes.

Caroline gives me an index card folded into a v-shape. From the index card holder, two gnarled beet seeds are dropped into each hole. I seed eight flats in total. If all goes well, once the Red Ace seeds germinate and are planted at Restoration Farm they should be ready for harvest in mid-June for use in a Roasted Beet and Goat Cheese Salad. Can’t you taste it already?

Head Grower Dan Holmes arrives with Glen and Caroline’s grandfather George. They work to finish the flats – topping them off with more soil. There are flower seeds to be sown. It is eye-straining work. The flower seeds are tiny – some even dust-like.

Restoration Farm Head Growers Dan Holmes and Caroline Fanning, George and T.W. in the greenhouse.

Outside in the greenhouse, onions, leeks and scallions seeded several weeks earlier have begun to sprout.

The aromatic onion is the foundation for so many dishes. The onion has been cultivated for more than 5000 years, but even today is still seeded by hand at Restoration Farm. The fragile green tops of these aromatics are just one signal of the cultivation, the labor and flavor still to come.

©2010 T.W. Barritt All Rights Reserved

Weekend Cookie Classic

I’m learning the temperament of the new stove, one recipe at a time. Next up is a little cookie baking experiment. How will this hot shot oven affect the browning, crispiness and texture of a very traditional oatmeal cookie recipe?

My recipe comes from a 1983 pamphlet from Quaker Oats called “Simply Great Cookies.” It is one of several heirloom recipe pamphlets that I received from family and friends for my birthday. This was part of my mom’s collection and came from my parents.

The recipe is a classic –“Easy Chocolate Chippers” – but I can’t resist the urge to improvise.

Instead of chocolate chips, I add a cup of cinnamon chips that I purchased last fall at Charles H. Baldwin & Sons in West Stockbridge, Massachusetts. If you are ever in the area, you should visit this charming, historic flavor and extract company tucked away in the Berkshires.

The batter comes together quickly in the stand mixer, and two trays of cookies slide into the oven.

Within 15 minutes the cookies are ready – plump and chewy with a slightly crisp edge.

The cinnamon chips are subtle, sensual and mildly sweet. Not exactly a chip off the old block, but an intriguing update for a classic cookie recipe. Is it necessary to tell you that I couldn’t stop at one?

My Cinnamon Chippers fit nicely into a new addition in my kitchen, a sunny golden pineapple cookie jar.

It’s a gift from my good friend Joan Licursi. Joan explains, “I wish I had a lot to tell you about the cookie jar that I knew to be fact. It was likely a wedding gift to native New Yorkers Mary and Fred Roeben (Joan’s parents) in 1934, and has always resided in the West Village (first on West 12th Street and then for at least 50 years on Bank Street) before its move to Long Island this year. It sat in a place of prominence on a built-in shelf in my parents' kitchen for as long as I can remember (up to my eviction in 1993!). Humorously enough, I never remember there being any cookies in it as my mom was not exactly a Betty Crocker type. That may be why it's still in such good shape after 75 years!”

I’ve know Joan for more than 20 years, so it should be no surprise that the pineapple is a symbol of friendship. I am so pleased to be the new caretaker of one of Mary and Fred Roeben's prized possessions!

©2010 T.W. Barritt All Rights Reserved

Half-Baked No More

Baking has been around since the dawn of time. There are pictures of bakeries depicted in ancient Egyptian tombs. Larousse Gastronomique cites the baker as the oldest of the food professions. As long as humans have ground grain into flour, we have been baking.

Baking is in my DNA. My grandmothers both baked and my mother provided me with my early training. I remember an elementary school homework project where I baked a simple butter cookie called Petticoat Tails. Somewhere in my unwieldy files, I still have the handwritten recipe sketched out in my expressive grammar school penmanship.

I love the tactile feel of baking, the soothing rhythmic motions, and the sensual aroma of anticipation that fills the room. Early on, I became quite fond of licking the beaters. I own so many different types of baking pans that the closet where they are stored resembles an abstract work of art.

I grew up using a gas oven, and I was more than a little dismayed to discover when I moved into my house that the oven was electric. For the first time in my life, I started to experience “baking flops.” The temperature was never right, and forget about browning. The oven was temperamental to say the least. Cakes looked pale and anemic, and there were times when cakes would fall, or even burn. There were too many times when I was forced to throw out the first attempt and start all over again. Eventually I learned to develop a certain empathy with the electric oven and produced some pretty good results, including a popular line of Retro Cakes.

I love the tactile feel of baking, the soothing rhythmic motions, and the sensual aroma of anticipation that fills the room.

But life in the kitchen is all about the journey and now I have traveled back to baking with gas. The electric oven is just a memory, replaced with a shiny new Viking Stove.

It’s a gentle giant with a traditional baking setting and one for convection baking as well. Handing someone like me a convection baking setting is like giving someone who writes on a chalk board an IPad, just to see what will happen. I may actually have to read the instruction manual.

This Apple Crumb Pie is one of my first forays into the brave new world of baking in a gas oven. The raisins plump up from the juice of the apples, and I’m kind of reveling in the golden bronze color and the delicate, buttery crunch of the crumb topping – something I wasn’t able to achieve with an electric oven.

I’ve got gas, and it’s a good thing.

©2010 T.W. Barritt All Rights Reserved

No Pressure

It was the culinary bogeyman of my mother’s kitchen when I was growing up. It would hiss like a demon and often appeared on the verge of exploding. And, there was usually some strange orange substance hidden in its bowels.

Beware the dreaded pressure cooker!

Some years have passed, and one would hope I have shed my fears of kitchen gremlins and foods that are a good source of Vitamin A. For the most part I have, but old habits die hard. Although I’ve been intrigued by the promise of lightning-fast preparation of food, the classic pressure cooker that I picked up at a tag sale sits idle (and depowered) in my basement.

All I need is a good suggestion to take action (the power of suggestion may be my Achilles heel), so when I read a post by Debby at Feast for the Eyes that mentioned her electronic, programmable pressure cooker, it was enough to inspire some online research and a purchase. About a minute-and-a-half transpired and I was the proud owner of a Cuisinart Electric Pressure Cooker.

In my defense, this was not a typical impulse purchase. I have been considering the idea of pressure cooking for years, and I even read the Consumer Reports product evaluations online before purchasing. So it was a well-informed, lightning-fast purchase. And, it was on sale.

So what might you expect if “Kid Flash” joins your culinary team?

Imagine fresh lentil soup in about 15 minutes, where the lentils are tender but firm and you can taste the flavor of the carrots:

Homemade chicken stock is produced in about 90 minutes on a weeknight:

Various recipes using beans and legumes – like this hearty “Chili Con Chickpea” come together quickly. The beans require no pre-soaking:

White rice comes out sticky and firm like the takeout variety, and brown rice takes only about twenty minutes. Vegetables, like butternut squash (which I now actually like) cook in about 3 minutes. Cannellini beans for a White Chicken Chili can be made the day before, in just under 45 minutes, and stored in the refrigerator until it’s time to prepare the dish.

The best news is that the device is programmable, so everything cooks according to the exact time needed. The lid locks into place during the cooking sequence, so the possibility of a Mount Vesuvius -style eruption is unlikely.

It’s kind of become my go-to kitchen pot, which is weird, since I just had a new gas stove installed (a behemoth - more on that later).

And, with the time I’ve saved in cooking, I’m already feeling a lot less pressure. Although on occasion, I still peek under the bed before I go to sleep at night.

©2010 T.W. Barritt all Rights Reserved

Colonial Carrot Cake, a New York Tavern and a Future President

The phrase “Let them eat cake” may have fanned the flames of the French Revolution, but according to legend, a slice of carrot cake served to war hero George Washington in New York City in the year 1783 marked the close of the turbulent years of the American Revolution.

The location was Fraunces Tavern - on Pearl Street in Lower Manhattan – and the occasion was a lavish reception for the future American President, French Ambassador Luzerne, and more than 100 generals, officers and civilians. The distinguished guests had gathered at the tavern - then known as “The Queen’s Head” – to mark the evacuation of British troops from New York City on November 25, 1783. Several days later, Washington would say farewell to his officers at the newly-renamed Fraunces Tavern.

American Patriot Samuel Fraunces was renowned for his excellent taste and culinary abilities and his tavern was a center for fine dining in colonial New York. The Thirteen Colonies Cookbook from the Montclair Historical Society (1975) reproduces the menu from that 1783 banquet which included Fresh Sorrel Soup with Sippets, Roasted Lamb with Oyster Forcemeat, Tipsy Squire and Carrot Tea Cake. For a time, Fraunces served as steward for President George Washington.

America’s Best Lost Recipes (2007) from the Editors of Cooks Country Magazine includes a recipe for “Real Carrot Cake” in the spirit of that early American celebration – a fitting indulgence to celebrate President’s Day 2010. The recipe is said to be similar to colonial spiced oil cakes, and the cake is brushed with dry vermouth and topped with a buttermilk rum glaze.

Real Carrot Cake - Adapted from “America’s Best Lost Recipes” 2007

Ingredients:
3 cups, plus 2 teaspoons all-purpose flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
2 teaspoons baking soda
2 teaspoons ground cinnamon
½ teaspoon salt
1 cup walnuts, chopped
1 cup raisins
5 large eggs, room temperature
1 ¾ cups granulated sugar
1 cup vegetable oil
1 pound carrots, peels and grated in a food processor

½ cup dry vermouth
1 cup confectioners’ sugar
2 tablespoons buttermilk
1 teaspoon dark rum

Place the oven rack in the middle position, and preheat the oven to 325 degrees. Grease and flour a 12 cup Bundt pan. Using a whisk, combine three cups flour, baking powder, baking soda, cinnamon and salt in a medium bowl. Toss the walnuts, raisins and 2 teaspoons flour in small bowl and coat well.

Using electric mixer on medium high, beat eggs and granulated sugar until combined. Reduce speed to medium and slowly add oil until incorporated. Increase speed to high and beat until light and creamy. Using rubber spatula, stir in flour mixture, walnuts and raisins, and carrots until combined. Scrape batter into cake pan and level. Bake 60 minutes. Test for doneness with toothpick. Remove from oven and cool in pan for 30 minutes. Turn out of pan to cool completely, at least one hour.

When cake is cool, brush the vermouth over the cake until it is absorbed. Wisk the confectioners’ sugar, buttermilk and rum in a medium bowl and drizzle over cake.

You can dine at the restored Fraunces Tavern in New York and visit the “Long Room” where George Washington bid farewell to his officers. There was no carrot cake served, but numerous toasts were offered on behalf of the 44 war officers in the room. They had been away from their families and homes for seven years. General Washington was quoted as saying:

“With a heart full of love and gratitude, I now take leave of you. I most devoutly wish that your latter days may be as prosperous and happy as your former ones have been glorious and honorable.”

For more on Carrot Cake, check out the tasty information provided by Louise at Months of Edible Celebrations!

©2010 T.W. Barritt All Rights Reserved

The Oracle of Food History – Lynne Olver of The Food Timeline

Lynne Olver’s Food Timeline website presents a chronology of food from the dawn of time.

If you crave details on the origin of Cracker Jacks or Underwood Deviled Ham, can’t seem to locate the perfect recipe for Cape Breton Pork Pies, or need a lead on the menu served at “The First Thanksgiving” of 1621, ask Lynne Olver. She’s sure to uncover the answer.

In March 1999 the Morris County New Jersey reference librarian created the website, The Food Timeline, a list of web links on food history. The citations fit neatly on one sheet of paper. More than a decade later, the site features scores of links to sources on the origins of foods and historic recipes, and Olver is a trusted resource for thousands of students, chefs, food writers and culinary historians who seek information on the topic. If you have a question on food history, she promises an answer to most questions in 48 hours, and she does the leg work for free.

Her inspiration for the website came from James Trager's The Food Chronology [Henry Holt, 1995].

“I was editing a reference newsletter in the late 1990s and thought it might be fun to feature food history sources,” she explains. “There were several excellent food history books but precious little online that was usable for reference purposes. In my profession, citing sources, especially primary sources, is critical to responsible research. When the initial timeline was uploaded, it included a handful of links to vetted sources and could be printed on one 8 1/2 x 11 sheet of paper. As time progressed, and questions came pouring in, it became evident that the only way to continue was to do original research and upload the content. For me, this was the ultimate convergence of professional vocation and personal passion. I was hooked!”

She seems to enjoy the thrill of the hunt, and admits she has always been naturally curious. “That's one of the reasons I became a public reference librarian,” says Olver. “We get to investigate new things every day.”

Olver is not a trained chef or an academic, but she has more food information at her fingertips than most of us encounter in a lifetime. And, with a reference librarian’s mind for details, she quickly cites the Food Timeline’s vital statistics, and notes that she rarely goes off duty.

“Librarians count everything,” says Olver. “From March 1999 to January 2010, I've answered 21,239 food history questions. Questions are cataloged and answers retained for future use. New content is uploaded weekly. Our FAQs reflect our most popular questions. Uploading them for ready access saves time for everyone. And yes, when I go on vacation I take the laptop and flash drive.”

Olver’s Food Timeline Reference Library in New Jersey contains over 1,500 books.

Olver says inquiries sent to the Food Timeline have been all over the culinary map from Day One. She recalls a notable early question from an elementary school student who wanted to know what "pease porridge" was (from the Nursery Rhyme). Food Timeline questions generally fall into nine categories: requests for old recipes (Pineapple Daisy Chiffon Cake), historic company/product information (Vita Boy potato chips), general food history (bananas), recipe origins (Beef Wellington), historic menus (1960s cocktail party), period foods (Shakespeare's foods), old prices (how much did food cost in WWII Germany), famous people's favorite foods (U.S. presidents), and place-specific food traditions (St. Louis Toasted Ravioli).

She says she was drawn to the topic of food because “it is a common denominator of humanity that binds us all together.”

“Food transcends history, geography, technology, social class, and economic status,” says Olver.

The Food Timeline is divided between links that describe the “beginnings” of food, and a chronology of historic recipes.

Far from being a dusty antiquarian quest, Olver thrives in a digital world of technology and delicious data bytes.

“Technology plays a significant role preserving and sharing information in all topics,” she says. “Digitized collections have made primary materials more accessible. Databases facilitate identifying and obtaining articles from newspapers, magazines, and scholarly journals. Ebay, blogs, company webs, and foodie chat boards complement standard research sources by offering product information and local history. We've been Tweeting since last April. It's a great way to share notes of popular interest and spread the word that food history information is out there! The Internet is also a great way to connect with experts. We reach out to culinary and scholarly experts regularly for assistance with complicated questions.”

She sometimes forsakes the library for work in the field. “The best part of food research is sampling dishes in their natural habitat. Dungeness Crabs in Seattle; Philly Cheese Steaks at Pat's, Fra Diavolo at Patsy's, cherry pie in Michigan, lobster rolls in Maine, wine tasting in Sonoma & Napa, experiencing the waiters at Musso & Frank's...”

Is there any piece of information, she can’t find?

“Yes,” she admits. “Among the most vexing are: (1) Definitive origin of the phrase Monkey Dish (a perennial culinary school assignment (2) What was Guildmaster Sauce (served in Pullman dining cars) (3) Who coined the phrase "Changing the Lady," (refers to chef's jackets). If any of your readers can provide these answers we’d be much obliged.”

Olver has uploaded hundreds of historic recipes. A recipe for James Beard’s Zucchini bread is a personal favorite – one of the earliest and most influential of the many zucchini bread recipes that proliferated in the 60s and 70s.

As long the world community continues to cook and eat, Olver will add links, building out The Food Timeline. She sees the project as a public service.

“I love connecting people with information,” she says. “Sharing food history is my way of giving back to the community. Over the years I've had several offers for commercial partnership and I've turned them all down. My public librarian core believes information should be available on a fair and equitable basis to everyone.”

©2010 T.W. Barritt All Rights Reserved

For the Man Who Has Everything – Esquire’s Handbook for Hosts (1949)

I recently celebrated a birthday and received several brilliant gifts that are older than I am. From my most organized friend and decluttering guru Rosemary, came an old and venerable edition of Esquire’s Handbook for Hosts, published in 1949. The handbook’s mantra - “Eat! Drink! Be Merry!” That’s sound advice, no matter what the era.

The dust jacket features a star-studded collection of guest whom I’d love to welcome to Suburban Long Island. Imagine sipping cocktails with Bette Davis, Bob Hope, Cary Grant or Lauren Bacall?

Esquire’s Handbook for Hosts is a classic domestic manual with a shot of testosterone – a manifesto for real guys who aren’t afraid to entertain and do it with style. The opening pages pull no punches:

“The world’s greatest cooks are men. Since the beginning of time, he-men have always prepared the savory dishes that caress the palates of epicures of every nation … You won’t find doily tearoom fare here: no radish roses, no menus designed for their calorie content. Esky has concentrated on food of, for and by MEN.”

Take that, Julie & Julia!

The handbook is chock-full of manly entertaining advice:

• Your kitchen-conquest will go for naught if you fluff the follow-through.
• No furred animal or feathered fowl should ever be fried.
• Ah, steak – plain, unadulterated beef – is paradise enow.
• An orderly conversation has a beginning, a middle and an end.
• The mark of a perfect hose is that he has a good time at his own party – but not too good. For though he seems to be just another guest, he is really very busy staying sober enough to continue his subtle hosting.
• And who is a good conversationalist? His talk is casual, easy, varied. He rarely talks for more than three minutes at a time unless others ask questions to keep him going. He suits his topics to his audiences. He does not drag out his personal affairs or innermost convictions for casual acquaintances. With them, he can keep up a perfect, enjoyable chatter about the weather, the caprices of Rhode Island Reds or yesterday’s front-page murder.
• Canasta is a rummy game of Argentinian (some say Uruguaya) origin. It has been touted as the hottest thing in card games since gin and the best partnership game ever. Its publicists and enthusiasts claim it will decimate the ranks of bridge players, convert pinochlers and bewitch poker hounds. Time will tell.
• You’ve had a few if … There is a fly in your drink, but instead of taking the trouble to remove it, you quaff down your drink, merely taking the precaution to avoid consuming the fly in the process.
• The only thing more horrible than a really first-rate hangover – one with long, matted hair and a guttural voice – is the hangover remedy which well-meaning friends force down your gullet the morning after.

Since undoubtedly, the cocktail still stands as a key component of the male entertaining repertoire, here’s a drink from Esquire’s Handbook for Hosts that you might consider serving at your next gathering:

Brandy Daisy (from Esquire’s Handbook for Hosts ©1949)

2 oz. brandy
½ oz. Grenadine
Juice of 1 lemon

Shake with finely cracked ice; pour unstrained into ample highball glass; decorate with fruits ad lib. Harpoon with straw.

If the Brandy Daisy isn’t enough of a reason to get a party started, here’s one more incentive. Esquire’s Handbook for Host also includes 365 Excuses for a Party (as if we needed more than one?). Today’s excuse? On this day in '42 Ann Shirley sued for her divorce.

Cheers!

©2010 T.W. Barritt All Rights Reserved

The Classic Covered Dish – Mary D’s Notoriously-Good Rice Pudding

I won this recipe in a blind, white wine tasting contest about ten years ago. It would have been a better story if it were a poker game, but what can you do? I’m not bad at wine tasting – better at red than white – but I had incentive to succeed. At stake was Mary D’s famous Rice Pudding Recipe, the most closely-guarded secret since Batman’s alter ego.

I’ve been friends with Mary D for more than a decade. She’s a classy, sassy blonde who teaches math to kids on Long Island (don’t mess with her), sings choral music and is an accomplished guitarist who does a kick-ass rendition of the theme from “Secret Agent Man” (among other more traditional works). She also has a wicked sense of humor. Some might call it notorious.

Mary’s Rice Pudding recipe is a classic – a signature dish and crowd pleaser that became a hotly-anticipated offering at pot lucks, holiday parties and buffets as we forged our way through life on Long Island in the mid-1990s.

There it was again at my brother’s annual Carols and Carousing party just after Christmas. Mary had brought her Rice Pudding – covered in foil – in one of those archetypal Pyrex oven-proof bowls. She’d thought of everything. Half of the pudding contained raisins, and half was plain, in case somebody at the party didn’t like raisins (try and figure out that technique!).

Some time later, I decide to give it a try and dig out the recipe, long-buried in my somewhat poorly organized “historic recipe” file. The directions are exactly what you’d expect from Mary – straight-talking and to the point. It’s not a simple recipe – and requires more than an hour of hands-on preparation.

When the pudding comes out of the oven, I dial up Mary.

“Are you ready for a rice pudding break?” I ask. “I made your recipe and I thought you might like to check it out.”

“Because I’m the Alexa Hente of rice pudding?” she asks.

“Actually, I’m a little nervous,” I admit. "You're the master."

“I’d hate to be you right now,” says Mary.

I show up on Mary’s porch that afternoon, covered dish in hand. She passes out bowls and she takes a taste. I hold my breath. Mary is not the type to gush with praise. She nods slowly and approvingly. It is good. That’s praise enough for me.

I ask her why the rice pudding became her signature dish.

“It’s traditional,” she says. “But, people don’t make pudding much anymore. I serve it warm, which is nice. It’s very comforting.”

She tells me she got a version of the recipe from a colleague some twenty-five years ago and “changed it up” a bit to make it her own.

“Most people bring Entenmann’s or Dunkin Donuts to a party,” she says. This takes time. It’s unique.”

For years, Mary has kept this recipe under lock and key, awarding it only to me after proving my nose for white wine. She’s now graciously agreed to share it with the readers of Culinary Types. And, you don’t even have to know the difference between a Pinot Grigio and a Sauvignon Blanc.

As the rice cooks, it takes on the characteristics of a creamy risotto. When the eggs are added, and the pudding is baked, it emerges from the oven a glowing, sunny-golden color. The raisins add a little attitude. Mary recommends serving slightly warm, or at room temperature.

I think you'll agree that it's a classic - just like Mary D.

Mary D’s Notoriously-Good Rice Pudding

2 cups water
1 cup rice
Dash salt
5 tablespoons butter
5 cups milk
3 eggs
¾ cup (plus a bit more) sugar
Vanilla to taste (about 2 teaspoons)
½ cup raisins (optional)

1. Boil the water. Add the butter, salt and rice. Continue boiling mixture for 7 minutes stirring often.

2. After the 7 minutes, stir mixture again making sure none is stuck to the bottom. Then add 5 cups of milk and turn flame on high for a few minutes to get things going. Keep stirring.

3. When the mixture heats up pretty well, turn heat way down and simmer covered for one hour, stirring often.

4. While that is simmering, combine eggs, sugar and vanilla and beat with a whisk until well blended. You’re gonna bake in this so you should be using a large oven-proof bowl or casserole.

5. The rice mixture is done when you’ve got a nice thick consistency. At that point, pour the rice mixture into the egg mixture stirring vigorously. When that is thoroughly mixed, add raisins and bake for 20-25 minutes at 350 degrees.

©2010 T.W. Barritt All Rights Reserved

Teaching Kids to Appreciate Food – Andrew Kaplan of Yum-o!

Andrew Kaplan is Director of Rachael Ray’s Yum-o! non-profit organization.

“Food has an impact on everyone,” Andrew Kaplan tells me as we chat over coffee on a cold and dark winter evening in New York City. “Everyone’s got that story growing up – a smell they remember, a favorite dish their mother or father made, or a favorite restaurant in their town. It’s something everyone relates to and it brings people together.”

Growing up, food was central in Kaplan’s family. His father worked in the food industry and was a health enthusiast, and his mother got him involved in the kitchen at an early age.

“My mom was the chef of the family, so she always cooked, and I always watched her cook,” he says. “I’d sit on the chair and watch her, and help her stir and help her make something.”

Today, the CIA-trained chef creates familial connections to food for kids and parents across the country as Director of Rachael Ray’s Yum-o! foundation. Yum-o! has a three-part focus – Cook, Feed and Fund – with an overall mission of empowering kids and their families to develop healthy relationships with food and cooking.

Kaplan speaks thoughtfully about the work of Yum-o! There is a quiet tenacity and commitment evident as he talks about his work. At the center, is getting kids involved in the kitchen.

“That’s what got me interested in food. Let them stir a sauce, let them chop a little,” he says. “When you cook your own meal it’s healthier. You know what ingredients you’re using and what ingredients you’re putting into it.”

Kaplan has worked frequently with kids and he learned early on that ignorance about food and nutrition was complex and not simply defined by socio-economic factors. He recounts the story of a time – working in Miami – when he was preparing to take a group of underprivileged kids to a restaurant for a food experience they would not normally have. The owner of one establishment asked, “Why inner city or underprivileged kids? We’ve got the wealthiest kids in Miami right down the block and they don’t know crap about food.”

Sometime after, Kaplan was producing a cooking demonstration for Rachael Ray and they began talking about kids and food. Ray also started cooking at an early age, and grew up with a strong appreciation for the role of food in family life. “We had very similar visions and she expanded them more,” Kaplan says. Out of that discussion more than three-and-a-half years ago, Yum-o! took shape, and Kaplan moved to New York to start up the not-for-profit organization. The mission is extremely important to Ray. “Food is the way she gives back,” says Kaplan.

Issues of health and wellness in America certainly help to drive Yum-o! programming, but underlying it all is a steadfast belief that food is all about family and enjoyment.

“For us, it’s the joys of food and cooking – the fact that we’re motivated by it and we can share it with other people,” says Kaplan. “It’s making food fun for people, getting them into the kitchen, and in turn they’ll eat healthier and the obesity rate will go down.”

The philosophy extends to creating recipes where even the names inspire a smile. Kaplan cites Rachael Ray’s recipe for Buffalo Chicken Chili as a recipe with plenty of family-appeal that’s also wholesome, flavorful and easy to prepare. Fun recipe names get kids interested in cooking, get them involved in the kitchen, and get them to eat good food. There are hundreds of kid-friendly recipes available on the Yum-o! website, many contributed by members of the online community. There are also tips and tools, and stories about individuals and organizations making a difference through food and nutrition in local communities.

Yum-o! looks to reach kids where they eat. A partnership with the New York City Department of Education Office of SchoolFood focused on changing the image of cafeteria food, led to the creation of a delicious and nutritious Yum-o!-inspired lunch menu that was served last October in schools in all five boroughs. Nearly 700,000 meals were served to students and teachers who lined up for NYC Sizzling Soft Taco with Southwest Roasted Chicken and Corn Relish.

“This was a healthy meal that met the USDA and New York City SchoolFood guidelines, but they were so excited about it. That’s what food should be, food that kids get excited about,” says Kaplan. Plans are in development to work with other school districts in the future.

While cooking is the educational component, the Yum-o! platforms of Feed and Fund also address an overall relationship with food. Kaplan explains that there are over 13 million kids who go to sleep at night and wake up not knowing where their next meal is coming from. Yum-o! works to create awareness about the issue of hunger in America. He says the foundation has helped to feed well over a million people and Rachael Ray’s presence brings significant attention to the issue. “We’ve gotten letters from people that say I never knew the issue of hunger existed in America until I saw Rachael talking about it.”

Yum-o! also funds cooking scholarships for public school kids who aspire to a career in the food industry and has awarded nearly 30 scholarships for students who hope to cook professionally or manage a hotel or restaurant.

Kaplan has clearly found his calling and savors the organization’s power to transform. “I thought I had a lot to share and give back and teach people about food and cooking. One of the main ways that I wanted to make a difference was with kids.” He sees food and the dinner table as central to family life – a place where memories are created – and has set a scrumptious community table that allows him to share that experience with others.

“I still cook and love cooking, but I’d rather make a difference – serve if you will,” says Kaplan. “It’s changing lives one recipe at a time.”

Photos courtesy of Lisa Plotnik

©2010 T.W. Barritt All Rights Reserved

Potatoes, Ham and Eggs - Hungarian Style

Some recipes achieve a timeless distinction within families. You might not eat them very often, but they’re part of the fabric of your lineage. There’s a story or person connected to the best family meals. You might recall that the first time Mom ever served a particular dish, she mentioned that it was her mother’s or aunt’s recipe, and for some reason that legacy stuck with you, forever attached to those flavors and sensations.

Hungarian Ham Casserole has that kind of association in our family. It usually appears after a holiday, when there might be an abundance of leftover ham. It’s a simple, layered casserole and a hearty winter dish – both tangy and savory – composed with potatoes, sliced cooked eggs, ham and sour cream. A casual mention brings a smile, and almost guarantees a craving.

My mom’s father emigrated from Hungary, so there were influences of Hungarian cuisine in the food we ate. The Hungarian Ham Casserole was something my mother remembers growing up. She explains:

“Aunt Rose (my Godmother) mad this casserole, and my Mother made it. I always loved it. Red or Yukon Gold potatoes work well – but any potato will do. If I don’t have bacon, I dot with butter – but the bacon adds flavor. I have always used no seasonings, but you might want to sprinkle some seasonings between layers. This is good for using leftover ham, but a cut up ham steak works, too.”

In recent years, my brother Jim made this recipe for a New Year’s Eve dinner, and we talked about our memories of the dish, but I never really knew what made it Hungarian beyond its inevitable journey through Ellis Island. The recent Christmas dinner left me with a plethora of ham, so I decide to make the dish and a little online culinary sleuthing adds some new elements to the story of this recipe. I find numerous references for a Hungarian recipe called Rakott Krumpli – a layered, meatless potato casserole. Wikibooks suggests the recipe could have originated from a traditional Jewish meal, eaten during the "nine days.” These are the first nine days of the month of Av, when orthodox Jews refrain from eating meat, in remembrance of the destruction of the Temple.

The reference notes that ham and sour cream would not have been eaten by Jews because the ingredients are not kosher. As with so many recipes, variations are inevitable over generations, and many of the versions – also called Rakott Krumpli – now found online do contain sour cream and ham. Most are almost identical to the recipe below which my mother transcribed for me, although some omit the ham for a final dish that is more like a gratin, add sautéed onion or use sausage in place of ham.

For me, the Hungarian Ham Casserole evokes rustic peasant cooking, as leftover ham, as well as potatoes, eggs and sour cream would have likely been prevalent ingredients in a European farmhouse.

And – even today – there’s still a generous helping of family warmth and affection in every serving.

©2010 T.W. Barritt All Rights Reserved

The Grit and Wisdom of Chef Candy

Chef Candy Argondizza was my Chef Instructor at the French Culinary Institute in 2005

When the going gets tough and temperatures rise, my thoughts turn to Chef Candy Argondizza, my Chef Instructor at the French Culinary Institute during my La Technique sequence in 2005. Chef Candy had a bullet-proof exterior, Teflon hands and a heart of pure edible gold.

I think of Chef Candy every time I tackle a kitchen project.

The first morning I arrived at FCI, I was wondering what I’d gotten myself into. Twenty-two sessions in as many weeks, La Technique course taught the fundamentals of French cooking and was designed for talented amateurs. Well, the first thing I learned was that I wasn’t as talented as I thought, and I was definitely an amateur.

There were more than twenty students, and we were each issued a professional chef uniform, a portable portfolio of chef’s knives and our very own instant-read thermometer and wire whisk. Once outfitted, we were introduced to Chef Candy. She was petite, athletic and wiry with salt and pepper hair and a piercing gaze. I was absolutely terrified.

The first few classes were comparable to boot camp. We set up our stations and began to focus on chopping and knife skills. Chef Candy would stroll past my work station and scrutinize my technique. Immediately, she noticed that I was handling the chef knife too delicately, as if it were a magic wand. She showed me how to “choke” the knife at the base of the handle, and it instantly became an effective tool. Soon, I was learning how to surgically remove the gills from a fish. Sometimes, when I close my eyes, I can still see that fish staring up at me from the chopping block.

Early on, I developed some interesting psychological afflictions in the kitchen. I was craving the approval of Chef Candy. Whenever someone else’s entrée was trumpeted as an example of perfection, I was wracked with jealously and was determined to try even harder to get Chef Candy to notice my work.

After several weeks, I got my wish. I still shamefully refer to this as the “pea soup incident.” The topic was “Preserved Foods” and we were simmering split green peas with bacon, stock and bouquet garni for a recipe of Potage St. Germain aux croutons, or Split Pea Soup with Croutons. My soup pot had been simmering on the stove for some time. It was then that it happened. Chef Candy tapped me on the shoulder and said, “Bring your pot to the front of the class. We’re going to demo how to puree the soup.”

I was ecstatic. Finally, my food would be headlining a class demo! I grabbed my side towel and grasped the pot, falling into step behind Chef Candy as she headed towards the industrial strength blender. In my zeal, I lost my grip on the pot and it tumbled to the floor. Green slime went everywhere and it looked like the set of a Nickelodeon game show.

Chef Candy stood there with her hands on her hips, staring at the expanding soup puddle on the floor and shaking her head. Finally, she said slowly, “Get a mop. I guess we can still get one bowl out of what’s left in the pot.”

It was many weeks after that before I was once again chosen to do the class demo, and I never again picked up a heavy pot without a hand towel and one hand supporting it underneath.

Several of us chefs-in-training quickly banded together and became a cooking team. Lars was a lawyer, Carol was a mom and Serap was an engineer. We learned to understand each other’s strengths and rhythms. Serap was highly organized, Carol was meticulous and precise with a paring knife, Lars was fearless and gamely took on acts of kitchen bravery like flambéing and I seemed to excel at plating and presentation.

My fellow chefs at the French Culinary Institute

Over time, we became a highly efficient team and were so well-tuned that we were often able to produce more food under deadline than the other cooking teams. And, our team often earned the praise of Chef Candy. Well into our studies I was also thrilled and flattered when she took special note of my pastry skills.

There were certain slogans she would call out as we cooked, that I still hear today.

“Taste your food!”

“Season your food!”

“Clean as you go!”

“Hot plates for hot food, cold plates for cold food!”

“Listen to your food!”

She constantly reminded us that cooking is a total physical experience that demands use of all the sense. Proper technique was critical, meeting deadlines was expected, and food needed to look appealing on the plate. But, Chef Candy always took time to talk about the history of a recipe or share her personal favorites. She enjoyed simple, traditional dishes like Brandade de Morue (Puree of Salt Cod and Garlic) and confessed a great love for the grand Canard Roti a l'Orange (Duck with Orange Sauce).

Chef Candy celebrated failures and said that there was always something to learn from a culinary disaster. We would scrutinize flattened layer cakes, wilted sauces and scorched cuts of meat to learn how to do it better next time.

Chef Candy maintained that you will get cut and you will get burned, but you’ll know why. It’s usually because you didn’t handle a knife correctly, or you didn’t use a towel to pick up a hot pot. I quickly learned that nicks, cuts and burns are preventable, if you make a concerted effort to focus on your technique.

Classes were rigorous, but there was an underlying sense that you should always take time to savor what you’d created. In the end, that’s what cooking is all about. And, even when your Hollandaise sauce breaks, if you look it over and taste it, you’ll learn how to do it right the next time.

Our final La Technique class with Chef Candy was August 6, 2005. We were tasked with preparing an elaborate seafood feast of lobster, oysters, seas scallops, mussels and other delicacies. There were no recipes to follow. We were to use the knowledge and techniques we had amassed over the past 22 weeks.

Our team was assigned to scrub the oysters. Carol asked – only somewhat in jest – “Why is Chef Candy punishing us?” But, in fact, the less-than-sexy assignment was indicative of exactly the kind of teamwork that we had learned to embrace in the professional kitchen.

The feast was exhilarating. It remains one of the best days of my life, for the exquisite flavors, the camaraderie, the accomplishment and the celebration of all that we had learned from Chef Candy over many grueling weeks.

The final La Technique Class - August 6, 2005

I returned to the French Culinary Institute several times after for additional intensive course work with other instructors. Despite the fact that she worked with hundreds of students, Chef Candy always remembered me and greeted me warmly in the halls.

It’s been nearly five years since I spent time in Chef Candy’s kitchen, but I still think of her often and hear her wise counsel in my head, whether I’m preparing a simple supper, a layer cake or an elaborate dinner for eight. In my opinion, Chef Candy is the Top Chef of all time.

©2010 T.W. Barritt All Rights Reserved