foods from my childhood

I've loved cooking and preparing food all my conscious life, as I know I've mentioned often.

Some, many really, of the foods I ate as a child will never be in my kitchen again. Some by choice, some by necessity, some simply don't seem like food anymore. But so many are still part of everything I enjoy about cooking and serving good food. I love to cook for friends and family, the notorious tapioca incident aside; it feels like a really intimate, loving act. Mostly these days, I'm cooking for one or two, plus Coco, of course. We still have dinner parties, guests for wine and munchies, and big holiday dinners, but the day-in, day-out kitchen activity is on a very small scale. Even so, sometimes the sight or smell, even the thought, of a specific food from my childhood takes me on a daydreaming journey and transforms our meals.

This morning was one of those times. My plan was to make a quick breakfast while GK took Coco for her morning walk. I was thinking simple scrambled eggs with avocado on the side for me and hash brown-like potatoes for him. While pulling eggs from the refrigerator, I noticed the avocados from last week's farm delivery had ripened and decided to use one of them instead of those in the fridge. So far, nothing exciting, but as I picked up the avocado, a fuerte, I was swept back to my childhood. My mom never used California's Hass avocados. I think she thought they were ugly or something. If we had avocados in the house, they were big, beautiful, smooth-skinned, green fuertes. And they always and only went into salad. In our house salad only meant one thing: iceberg lettuce, diced tomato, minced onion, olive oil, salt, dried mint, and avocado on very rare occasions. That was the only salad I knew of, other than tabbouleh, which was for special occasions only. I don't remember when I found out about salad dressings. I do remember they seemed foreign and I was smitten with them.

Still, I digress. As I thought of the only avocados I knew and the only salad I knew, my mind naturally (for me anyway) ended up with the only omelet I knew. At our house, the word omelet meant only one thing. Always. Eggs and milk, beaten with a fork and seasoned with salt, a tiny bit of pepper, and dried mint. We always had mint, lots of mint, growing in the yard. My mother would dry a big batch every couple of years and run it through her Foley food mill. There was never a time that we were without dried mint, a habit that I took into adulthood with me.

So the scrambled egg plan gave way to omelets. Not the omelets of my childhood, but mushroom and avocado for GK and shrimp and mushroom for me. We had exactly 3 shrimp (from US Wellness Meats) leftover from last night's visit with Erika and Kristen. It felt silly saving them, but I was not about to throw them away. Three was a perfect number. After I chopped them into large chunks, every bite had a taste of the garlicky shrimp. And right next to my omelet sat one half of a large fuerte avocado, a reminder of childhood. Though in my childhood, half an avocado would have made a salad for six. No way would it ever have been a side dish for one person's breakfast.

bean salad, a salute to summer's end

Canned beans are fine, but in the summer, why not start with fresh?

Possibly, probably, my hardest sell for the Paleo diet at home is giving up beans. We both like beans and have used them often to replace other, likely worse, food choices. Still while I like beans; GK, LOVES them. He can wax poetic over beans, really. It is an experience to behold. He listened, somewhat intently, as I described some of the tenants of Paleo eating, nodded acceptance at the inclusion of leafy greens and fish, grimaced a bit over what he considers a high fat content, then turned white as a sheet before turning completely away from the discusssion when I mentioned the avoidance of beans. Did I say hard sell? I do so like understatement.

Though I can understand the argument against them when one is moving toward eating only foods that can be safely eaten raw, it's going to be an uphill battle on the homefront. Success will come in time.

Today, however, is an ode to the bean, in this case the bean salad. As we say goodbye to summer, I'm likely also saying goodbye to a favored salad, so please indulge me while I revisit it here one more time.

Three Bean Salad

For the dressing

• Crush one clove garlic and macerate in 2 tablespoons balsamic, 2 tablespoons red wine vinegar, and 1 teaspoon salt. 
• Whisk in about 3 to 4 ounces of good olive oil, add pepper to taste. 

• 1 pound fresh green beans, preferrably organic
• 1 can kidney beans, rinsed and drained
• 1 canned garbanzo beans, rinsed and drained
• 1/4 cup finely diced onion, or 1 tablespoon dried minced onion

• Cut fresh green beans in 1 inch pieces, then boil or steam until tender.
• Combine all beans and onion in large bowl.
• Pour dressing over beans and onion.
• Allow flavors to develop in refrigerator for 4 hours or overnight.
• Can be made a day or two ahead.

This recipe can easily be doubled or tripled. Feel free to substitute beans of your choice.

Goodbye beans. 

making the most of a cobb salad

Of course, I've mentioned my lack of grace when it comes to my need to give up cheese. I love cheese. Though it may seem surprising, salads are often where I miss cheese the most. Surprising partly because salads usually have so much already going for them, you'd think you'd hardly miss the cheese. That, of course, is the goal, but it is not always a given.

In the past, when I wanted a simple dinner salad, I'd almost always think blue cheese dressing, maybe with some tart vinaigrette thown in for a piquant touch. If not that, then a Greek style with feta. Caesar salad, of course, features cheese, as does my favorite salad-as-a-meal, Cobb Salad.

It was with a bit of hesitation that I approached the idea of a cheese-less Cobb. A salad like this is not something I'd be comfortable ordering at a restaurant. Not that I'm ever too comfortable ordering anything at a restaurant. Still, this scares me a bit more than other dishes with so many opportunities for cross-contamination. So preparing it at home was and is my only reasonable option. And of course, I love playing with food, so that's not such a bad option.

At the same time, since I like to make the same meals for both of us and avoid feeling like a short-order cook, I had to consider other substitutions. I have to be careful about bacon, since all manner of additives can find their way into some of it. GK will eat beef or turkey bacon but not pork. I can't stand beef or turkey bacon. Oops, that wouldn't work. This time I settled on bacon-less for him and bought pre-cooked nitrite-free, pork bacon for me. He did, after all, get lots of beautiful raw-milk blue cheese that would be absent from my plate. (sigh) I may plan on keeping some pre-cooked turkey bacon in the freezer for him if this salad becomes a stand-by. I settled on fresh lemon juice with organic olive oil, salt, pepper, parsley, and chives from the garden for the dressing. From my daughter Kristen's kitchen garden, were the cherry, grape, and pear tomatoes.




My salad, almost complete, it just needs some perfectly ripe avocado slices and a bit more dressing..





Eggs were a little over-cooked, but that blue cheese looks great.


The meat in these is the roasted turkey breast described a few days ago. This is quick and easy to prepare, though you can also buy turkey from the deli or use chicken breasts. Add sliced or quartered boiled eggs, slices of avocado, and red or green onion. I like to decorate a plate of leafy lettuce (a combination of red leaf, better, and red butter lettuce is great) with each ingredient piled separately and dressed on the plate. They can all be mixed together and served mounded in a bowl or plate, as well. It's just not as pretty that way.





It's hard to tell these are different salads until you look closely.