Chinese New Year Recipes (3)

WARNING: This recipe is HOT. If it's not your taste, cut back on the ginger root or leave it out altogether.

(For Year of the Tiger)

Fish with Ginger

500 g (1 lb.) cod or haddock, 4 fillets
2 tablespoons oil
90 g. (3 oz.) butter
1 tablespoon grated ginger root*
4 springs parsley
4 lemon wedges

Wash and dry the fish. Heat the oil in a wok and fry gently until tender. Melt the butter in a small pan, add ginger, stir until well mixed and pour over the fish. Served garnished with the parsley and the lemon wedges.

All original writing and art copyright A. Dameron 2000-2010

Chinese New Year Recipes (2)

This is for the Year of the Rooster

Chicken Fuyung

1 sprig fresh parsley
7 eggs
1/4 teaspoon salt
pinch of black pepper
150 g (5 oz.) cooked chicken
1 large mushroom
3 spring onions
1 tomato
2 tablespoons cooking oil

Chop the parsley finely. Beat the eggs well, add the salt, pepper and parsley. Stir. Shred the chicken, chop mushroom, onions and tomatoes, mix all together and stir-fry in the oil over high heat for about 2 minutes. Add egg mixture and continue to stir fry until egg is set. Sever immediately.

All original writing and art copyright A. Dameron 2000-2010

Recipes from Hubby's Grandmother's Recipe Box (8)

Handwritten index cards, two connected recipes:

Gingerbread

Grease and flour a 9x9 loaf pan.

Sift together: 2 c. flour 1 1/2 tsp sugar, 1 1/2 tsp baking powder, 1/2 tsp cloves, 3/4 tsp baking soda, 1 tsp salt.

Add 1/2 c. shortening 1 egg unbeaten, 3/4 c. molasses, 1/2 c. sugar, 2/3 c. boiling water

Beat for 1 minute + blend thoroughly. Back at 350 degrees for 40 min.

*****

Upside down Gingerbread

Slice thin 2 c. apples. Line bottom of 9x9 loaf pan with apples. Add 1/2 c. orange juice, 1/3 c. raisins, 2/3 c. brown sugar. Pour gingerbread batter over mix. Bake at 350 degrees for 40 min.

All original writing and art copyright A. Dameron 2000-2010

Recipes from Hubby's Grandmother's Recipe Box (7)

Another handwritten card from the file box. It took me a minute to decipher Hubby's grandmother's handwriting, but this is copied word for word, with no editing:

Drop Dumplings

2 c. flour

1 egg well beaten

2 t (teaspoon) baking powder

1 T(tablespoon) melted butter

1 t. salt

1 c. milk

First beat egg, next add milk + butter, add flour, bking soda + salt, stirring thoroughly. Drop from tablespoon into lather containing boiling beef or chicken. Cook rapidly for 15-20 minutes.

All original writing and art copyright A. Dameron 2000-2010

Recipes from Hubby's Grandmother's Recipe Box (6)

This one is from a recipe card from a collection from Sun-Maid Raisins. On the back of each card is a fact about  raisins. I've included the one with this recipe.

Wrangler Barbeque Sauce

(Makes 1 3/4 to 2 cups)

1/3 chopped onion

1/2 cup chopped celery

1/3 cup chopped green pepper

1 minced clove garlic

2 tablespoons oil or drippings

1 cup (8-ounce can) tomato sauce

1/2 cup water

1/2 cup Sun-Maid Seedless or Golden Seedless Raisins

1/2 teaspoon chili powder

1/4 teaspoon salt

Saute' onion, celery, green pepper and garlic in oil until transparent. Add remaining ingredients and simmer slowly 15 to 20 minutes. Serve hot with spare ribs, meat balls, etc. (A contemporary recipe based on the campfire barbeques of the Old West).

Fact on the back of the card:

All of America's raisins come from the fertile San Joaquin Valley in California. This lush valley is surrounded by towering mountains. With water cascading from the Sierra Nevada Range, plenty of sun and little rain, the San Joaquin Valley provides ideal conditions for growing raisin grapes.

All original writing and art copyright A. Dameron 2000-2010

Recipes from Hubby's Grandmother's Recipe Box (5)

This recipe was cut out of The Virginian-Pilot, dated Thursday, March 6, 1980. I think it was an addition by my mother-in-law. Makes sense...Hubs' dad's family is from the South.

Judy's Pork Steaks

4 pork shoulder steaks

4 T. butter

2 large onions, coarsely chopped

Few drops of worcestershire sauce

1 cup consomme or stock

2 T. flour

Salt, Pepper to taste

Use a little pork fat to grease lightly a heavy skillet large enough to hold mean in one layer. Brown the steaks slowly in the greased skillet, on both sides, then turn heat low, cover pan and cook gently for about 2o minutes, adding a few drops of water to pan if necessary to keep meat from drying out.

Melt the butter in the saucepan and cook the onions in it gently until just golden. Add 2 or 3 drops of worcestershire and the mustard. Cook down a litter, then stir in the flour and cook and stir to blend and thicken slightly. Add consomme and salt and pepper to taste. Stir to mix well and cook down until of a good sauce consistency. To serve, simply spoon sauce over cooked pork steaks on serving plates. Serves 4.

All original writing and art copyright A. Dameron 2000-2010

Recipes from Hubby's Grandmother's Recipe Box (4)

This recipe was jotted down on the back of a receipt from a laundry/dry cleaners place in Sioux City, Iowa, where my mother-in-law's family is from. Cusack-Baumann, on Pearl Street.

Again, this is typed directly from that receipt, with no editing.

Tinted Rice

Use Coloring as desired: (2 tsp yellow, tsp. blue, 3 tsp green, or 3 tsp red)

3 c. cold water, 4 c. uncooked rice (1 # 12 oz.)

Mix desired coloring with water. Add rice and soak until desired shade is obtained. Drained tinted rice, saving colored water for re-use if needed. Few drops of perfume or cologne may be added to water after coloring as been blended. Spread tinted rice on cookie sheet and dry in oven @ 250 degrees for 15 minutes. Makes ab. 32 bags (2 tbsp ea.) Use regular milled white rice for pastel colors. Parboiled rice best for deep colors.

Rice favors: place on small squares of net or tulle, line with polyethelene and tied with ribbon.

Can be glued for decorative projects--or layered or mixed in clear vases or jars.

Can be used for mosaic paintings or caught up in net for corsages.

All original writing and art copyright A. Dameron 2000-2010

Recipes from Hubby's Grandmother's Recipe Box (3)

This recipe was printed on a card from a homemaker's magazine. I assume it's from one of those inserts that you can detach and put in a recipe box, book or folder. I've never seen this one before...it's a main dish.

Tuna Curry in Rice Ring

1/4 cup snipped parsley

5 cups hot cooked rice*

2 7-ounce cans solid-pack tuna, drained

1 tablespoon lemon juice

1/2 teaspoon celery seed

1/2 teaspoon dry mustard

1 teaspoon minced onion

1 tablespoon minced parsley

                                                       6 tablespoons PREAM (Annie's note: I had no idea what this was, so I looked it up. It's coffee creamer.)

4 tablespoons flour

1 teaspoon salt

1 teaspoon curry powder

1 3/4 cups water

With fork, lightly stir 1/4 cup parsley into hot race; gently pack rice mixture into greased 1-quart ring mold**. Let stand 1 to 2 minds.; invert onto heated platter and keep warm while preparing Tuna Curry. In a small bowl, combine tuna, lemon juice, celery seed, mustard and 1 tablespoon parsley; let stand for 5 mins. In saucepan, combine PREAM, flour and curry powder. Add water; cook and stir until mixture boils and is thickened. Add tuna mixture; blend and heat thoroughly. fill center of rice ring with Tuna Curry. Makes 5 to 6 servings.

*Use 1 1/4 curs raw regular or processed rice or 2 1/2 cups packaged precooked rice prepared according to package directions. 

**If ring mold is not available, spoon rice onto heated platter to form ring.

All original writing and art copyright A. Dameron 2000-2010

Recipes from Hubby's Grandmother's Recipe Box (2)

Today's recipe from Hubby's Grandmother's Recipe Box (directly from a handwritten card):

Scones:

2 c. sifted flour

4 tsp baking poweder

1 tsp. salt

4 tbsp shortening

3/4 c. milk

Beat all ingredients for 1 min. Throw on floured board and roll 1/2" thick. Cut with round cutter, bake on griddle until golden on both sides. 

All original writing and art copyright A. Dameron 2000-2010

Recipes from Hubby's Grandmother's Recipe Box (1)

Hubs inherited the recipe box that holds his maternal grandmother's recipes. It's a simple green file box, crammed with handwritten recipes and ones cut out from magazines. The paper's yellowed with age, but still readable. It's fascinating to see some of the recipes from 50+ years ago...the more things change, the more they stay the same.

This week, I'm featuring some of those recipes, copied directly from the cards. This one is "Popovers"

Popovers

Blend 2 eggs, 1tsp salt, 1 c. sfted flour, 1 tbsp melted shortening 1 c.milk.

Beat until thoroughly blended. Pour into 8 custard cups about 1/3 full. Bake at 459 degrees for 20 minutes. Turn down to 350 degrees for 20 minutes longer.

All original writing and art copyright A. Dameron 2000-2010

Christmas Memories, Part II

The children of St. Francis of Assisi Catholic Church (Naples, Italy) took part in a re-enactment of the manger scene. There were Mary, Joseph, Baby Jesus (represented by a doll), the Three Wise Men, angels, shepherds, donkeys, sheep, and townspeople. Yes, it was a major production, and all the Sunday School teachers made sure everyone had a part.

By this time, I was considered too old to dress up (I was in my early teens, so I didn't mind being excluded). My two younger sisters were angels, with white robes and halos made with bendy wire and gold tinsel. Another friend dressed up in the blue robe of one of the Wise Men, and his brother was one of the townspeople. He chose to be a cook, complete with apron, spoon, chef hat, and bowl. We asked him, "Why a cook?" His answer? He admired my dad (who was a cook, or formally a "mess management specialist") and wanted to dress up just like him. Aw!

The production was a great success, even if there were a few stage miscues. After Mass, all the fledging actors and actresses all went home for presents. I was proud of them all for their thespian skills, and even though I wasn't directly involved with the production, it remains one of my fondest Christmas memories.

All original writing and art copyright A. Dameron 2000-2010

Original Fiction: My Father's Legacy

My father’s favorite place has always been the kitchen. On the days when he was home, the scent of coriander wafted through the air with an invisible smoke that caressed my nose. The sizzle of vegetables in oil filled the tiny galley. Dad whipped eggs with a strong hand and sliced onions and zucchini with a master’s confidence. I watched him at his own private dance, as he moved from stove to counter and back again.


"Can I help, Dad?" I asked him, time and time again.


His answer was always the same. "No, just watch for now. You can learn a lot by watching, you know."


So I watched, the desire to copy him tingled through my fingers. He contended that the old apprentices spent years watching their masters, until the masters judged they were ready for the first step. They wanted to make sure the need to create was there. Sometimes that took years. My father was of the old school. Tradition needed to be preserved.


Eventually, he allowed me to boil the water, chop the vegetables, and scrub the cutting boards. As we worked side by side, he told me about his father. Ming Tsao had been a personal chef for one of the wealthiest families in China. Ming Tsao’s father, and his father before him stood over their apprentices in the same way. I listened to these tales as the luscious smells rose from the ovens.


We presented the family with dishes of spiced beef in brown sauce. Dad arranged red, green, and orange peppers in geometric patterns. The dishes, such as bok choy in broth and noodles mixed with carrots and beans, were unveiled at the dinner table with great fanfare.


Mom looked at the spectacular array and shook her head. "Too much," she pronounced. "It’s too much." Then she picked up the chopsticks and ate anyway.


Dad always cooked enough to feed a thousand armies. It was his way of taking care of us. No one noticed as age crept up on him. The supple fingers still worked their magic, but his dance slowed, much like an old clock winding down. Finally, he taught me to make soups and main courses, as well as appetizers and desserts. As I was making dumplings for a party, he stood there, just watching me. This time, the light burned within his dark eyes and a smile trembled on his lips. He walked forward and laid a hand on my shoulder.


"You are ready," he said. Then we went to check on the sweet-and-sour fish in the oven.
The party was a success, but somehow, I knew it was the beginning of the end. My father’s limbs shook like rushing leaves. He forgot where he kept his special spices and ingredients. 


More than once, I turned off the oven after he was finished baking, because he did not remember that he had left it on. He came to the kitchen less frequently, until he could only stand there at the door, an old king surveying his kingdom. Dad needed to pass the kingdom to the next generation, but until then, he reigned.


One night, Dad asked for a simple bowl of broth. I added extra mushrooms and onions, just as he liked it. He finished the entire bowl and put it aside. Then he called Mom into the room and whispered something into her ear. She gazed at him with a questioning look.


"Are you sure?" she asked in Cantonese.


"Yes," he replied.


She left the room, but quickly returned with a simple, worn, wooden box. The gold leaf on the lid no longer shone in the lights. I recognized the characters etched into the side of the box. Ming Tsao. It was the name of Dad’s father, my grandfather, the esteemed chef of the family.
Mom gave him the box with the reverence of a priestess. He carefully blew the dust off the lid and traced the characters. Then he looked up at me. Again, I saw that burning light in his face, and I realized that light was the only thing that kept my father alive.


"I give this to you," he said in a formal tone. "It will help you."


I accepted the box with the same gravity. My hands shook as I touched a piece of family history. Mom stifled an audible sob as she said, "Open it, Mei. See what is inside."


I slid the cover off the box. Folded pieces of parchment lined the inside of it. They surrounded a stack of cards written in Chinese. I held one up to the light; it read "Szechwan chicken." 


They were recipes, all in my grandfather’s hand. I bowed my head in gratitude.


"There is more," Dad said. He pointed out all the additions and revisions he had made over the years. Black and white photographs were scattered among the recipes. One of the photos showed my father as a young man, standing next to another man who was my grandfather. There was a strong resemblance between the two. Dad kept meticulous notes on every party he had catered, and ever new dish he had tried. It was as if the years had finally granted him permission to share his vast knowledge. Why had he held back all these years?


"I wanted to make sure you wanted to continue the tradition," he explained. "I wanted to make sure you had the choice."


Tears streamed down my mother’s face. I noticed she held my father’s hand while he talked. I felt a definite sense of finality in the air with the passing on of those traditions. I reached over, took his other hand, and brought it to my lips. He smiled as I said, "Thank you, Father."


He nodded and said, "Go to bed now."


I took the precious box with me. That night, I spent hours looking through every card and every photograph. They were the ingredients of my father’s life story. There was so much to absorb; it would take me a lifetime. I did not mind. It was like food for my soul, the encouragement to further my dreams.


Mom came to my room at dawn. She did not have to say a word. I knew.


In the cold light of sunrise, I crept down to the kitchen. Soon, the word would spread and the house would be filled with visitors. But now, I turned on the flame of the burners and poured oil in the wok. The smoke rose to meet my father’s spirit as I cooked, and tears sizzled in the heat.


copyright 2006 by Annie Dameron