1966 WDEC - Hot Chutney and Bacon Fingers

I skipped the Woman's Day Encyclopedia of Cookery Cheese Canapes in the "Appetizer" section because they were all fairly ho-hum mixes of cheese and butter or cheese, butter, nuts, and herbs, or broiled combinations of the same. From there the section progresses to hot canapes, of which the Hot Chutney and Bacon Fingers caught my eye.

Hot Chutney and Bacon Fingers
(to make 20 - 24; may be scaled)
20 - 24 toast fingers (one slice of toast makes about 6 - 8)
10 - 12 slices bacon
1 cup well-drained chutney, chopped fine

Cut toast fingers the width of a [cooked] slice of bacon and half the length. Cut bacon slices in half crosswise; fry over low heat until half done, but not brown. Spread chutney on toast fingers and top each with half slice of bacon.  Broil 5" from heat until bacon is crisp. Serve hot.


Cooking Notes:  I scaled this down for one, using 4 slices of bacon and 1/4 cup of chopped chutney. Had I used bread, it would have required one slice of toast cut into 8 pieces.

Having some lovely pork jowls on hand and not really wanting to make bread, I decided to cut the bacon thick enough that I wouldn't need to use any other base. I used Major Grey's style chutney, figuring this classic mango chutney would be about the only kind of chutney a middle-class suburban housewife of 1966 would have known. The brand I got, as shown below, had very thick juice and was reluctant to drain well.

I stirred it in the sieve until the chunks were dry enough to chop fine.

Because I was using the bacon as a base, I cooked it all the way through, tending it carefully to make sure it crisped up well, but not so much as to become crumbly. I then briefly heated the chopped chutney in the microwave for about 15 seconds and spooned a little on to each bacon piece, as shown in the first post pic.

Eating Notes: Nice hot or cold. I ate one hot, but by the time I found the camera, took pictures, and brought the food to the table the rest were room temperature. The hot ones had a little more mango-y sweetness but the cold ones were just fine. The combination of mango pickle and bacon is excellent. Toast would be perfectly acceptable with it, but was unnecessary. The thick jowl bacon made a sturdy base and to my palate the chew of the bacon more than made up for the absence of a chewy bread.

Pork Jowls - Better than Bacon

Had guests staying over this weekend and was dismayed to find I hadn't laid in any breakfast meat. And then I saw the package of pork jowl from Babes in the Woods and my heart rose. Here they are in the package:

And next, out.

It's easy to see the resemblance to bacon - nice and fatty and streaky.

Slices are smaller than bacon and each piece has a layer of moist matter that has a texture in between muscle and fat.

I find the jowl is a lot more flavorful than belly bacon, and my guests were impressed as well. It's more meaty and also has a softer texture to the fat.

There are a few occasions where I really need the thin slices I can't get when I hand carve, and sometimes one wants the flavor of smoked or cured bacon. Otherwise I strongly recommend jowl as a traditional fresh side bacon alternative.

1966 WDEC - Appetizers - Flavored Butters for Canapes

The Woman's Day Encyclopedia of Cookery specifies quite clearly that "canapes are small hot or cold appetizers served on bread, crackers or a pastry base..." so as someone who doesn't really want to eat huge amounts of carbs and minimizes gluten in my diet, I was a bit hesitant about trying any of the 18 suggestions they give for canape butters--until I saw the suggestion under Anchovy Butter to serve with a slice of hard-cooked egg. With, on, there really is so little difference.

Many of the suggestions were for things with which I'm well familiar - onion, herbs, garlic and cheese. A couple (sardine butter and pate butter ("good on its own" - I'll bet it is!)) called for ingredients I don't have on hand. Five seemed appropriate to serving with eggs and were things I could make easily. Presented from left to right in the picture above, they were:
Anchovy butter, with anchovy paste and lemon juice
Curry butter, with curry powder (I used homemade given to me by my friend Sokhama)
Chili butter, with chili sauce (I used my homemade from the "Oklahoma" recipe)
Horseradish butter, with prepared horseradish (be sure the horseradish hasn't lost its bite)
Shrimp butter, with ground cooked shrimp and a bit of Tabasco.

Cooking notes: I creamed all the butter first with the electric hand mixer and then pulled out what I wanted and used custard dishes to mix the individual batches shown in the picture. Because I needed to grind the shrimp in the food processor before mixing it in, I made a larger batch of that and saved some, covered and in the refrigerator. I creamed that batch using the hand mixer; the rest I just mixed with a fork. For spicing, I recommend doing everything by taste rather than following specific directions. I thought their suggestions were far too judicious in spice/flavoring use, especially since these are meant to be eaten alone with the base. So I am not including amounts in my instructions.

Eating Notes: Any of these would be great as a canape and would work with a cracker/pastry base. The sampling made a really nice warm weather dinner for one. The butter melts in the mouth, which lends an overtone to those ingredients, such as horseradish, that do not (and that accentuates the silkiness of other ingredients, like anchovy paste and curry, that do). The only one that suffered was the anchovy butter, which separated into butter and anchovy liquid at warm (80F) room temperature.

Cookbook Launch Reception for Capital Cooking Cookbook

Especially because Food for Real doesn't focus particularly on the DC foodie scene, I was pleasantly surprised to get an invite to the media release reception for the Capital Cooking Cookbook by local cooking show host Lauren DeSantis. The event looked promising, offering selections from the cookbook, plus offerings from a broad variety of local kitchens, from the Panamanian embassy to 1789, a venerable DC upscale restaurant, to Mallow Drama, a local bakery and cake designer.


The event was interesting. It was held in a very nice but much smaller space than I'd imagined; the main room was hardly bigger than my 1941 standard Colonial house living room. I was worried about it accommodating everyone, but no need; attendance numbered only about 30 people, maximum, mostly all women (and most of the men seemed to be guests of a woman). This surprised me, because I expected a larger crowd, and when I've been to foodblogger events, the gender mix has been a lot more even, more like 70/30 or so.

Not watching any TV that isn't bittorrented from Japan, I had never seen Ms. DeSantis, but she seemed younger than she appears in the picture above, with the high-voiced chirpy exuberance of a figure skater. In other words, perfect for the job, and a bit overwhelming for those of us with secret hikikomori tendencies. So I didn't actually talk to her. I did talk to an absolutely charming young writer/blogger for a local magazine, who was enthusiastic and obviously working. She was great and we exchanged notes on a number of the samples.

Which brings me to the food. I confirmed (one chef admitted) that for functions like this most chefs bring their "b list" offerings. It showed. Some of the dishes were a bit dry, or overcooked, or just more meh than I'd been expecting from people highlighting their restaurants. Some failed for opposite reasons - because it seemed like the chefs were throwing together too many things too fast, and each ingredient was clamoring for its own 15 minutes of fame. Two offerings, though, rose above that bar to stand out.

The first (in the clear plastic spoon in the picture above; apologies for the cell phone photo) was the Local Asparagus with Big Eye Tuna, Surryano Ham, and Smoked Paprika, but Daniel Guisti of the aforementioned 1789. Everything was hidden under the greenery, with tempting hints of salmon-orange peeking out from below. Served in the spoon, you had to eat it all in one bite, and it came together magnificently. Knowing the ingredients (especially the smoked paprika), I just said "aha, of course," but nothing individually jumped out unless I was looking for it. The ingredients were perfectly proportioned so that it was one delightful meld. I watched Guisti assembling each spoonful with a care that made me wonder if he, too, has some secret hikikomori tendencies. His care was rewarded, because it was the assembly that portioned everything properly for both the palate and the eye. It made me really happy to watch (and eat).

The other winner was the one recipe taken directly from the cookbook (page 43), Panamanian Shrimp and Fish Ceviche with Pixbae (shown above in another horrible iPhone picture) as made by chef Ana Victoria Mas of the Panamanian Embassy.  The ceviche itself was not terribly unusual, but the addition of the pixbae (also available as chontaduros) lended an unusual fibrous starchiness that, included as it was in small little cubes, really made the whole dish shine. Chef Mas said that the fruit is available throughout Central America, but pixbae is claimed by Panamanians and, in fact, it does seem that at least the name pixbae is specific to that country. I was surprised that this was the only recipe lifted directly from the book. At the same time, they picked a winner to showcase, and I am going to try to get some pixbae and make this recipe to see if I can do Chef Mas justice.

1966 WDEC - Appetizers

Skipping "a point" - just a definition of the cooking term meaning that something is cooked just to doneness and going to the Appetizer cookbook (fortunately not as long as American Cookery. Nothing could be as long as "American Cookery." The editors of the Woman's Day Encyclopedia of Cookery include several types. No pickled fish heads, as shown above in the 1867 illustration from The Cook's Guide and Housekeeper's and Butler's Assistant (via Wikipedia).

What they do have:
Canape: small hot or cold appetizers served on a bread, cracker, or pastry base
Cocktails: not the liquid kind, but appetizers served with a sauce or dressing
Dips or dunks: what it says, in 1966 these were "typically American and not used in European entertaining" (I've had my share of dips in Europe and will say that tradition has changed)
Hors-d'Oeuvres: cold or hot appetizers that do not have bread or crackers as the base and (again according to the 1966 editors) "usually eaten at the sable, with a knife and fork, before the main part of the meal."
Nibbles or Tidbits: "colloquial expressions...that can be picked up with fingers or with a cocktail fork or toothpick." The cite almonds, nuts, relishes, fruit pieces and cheese as examples.
Spreads: What it says; they limit the spread base to crackers, bread and toast.

I will address each type, which has its own sub-entry, individually, picking and choosing along the way. This may be one entry where my status as a family of one comes in handy; some of the recipes look like they'd make a decent main course with leftover lunch for me.

Roast Lamb a la Mechazawa-san's Inspiration

When Phil first told me that he wanted to get a Big Green Egg, it was after having had barbecue at his colleague Keith's house. I was skeptical - after all, $700 is a pretty big price tag for a charcoal grill! But Phil never really asked for bunches of things for himself, so why not? And for us and meat, that was all she wrote. I became a true convert the first time I used Mechazawa-san, even before he told us his name.

That was years ago, and in all that time I never did have barbecue at Keith's. I think we went one time and got rained out or something, but it never came together until last weekend when he and his wife had me and a bunch of other people over for some roast lamb and conversation.

Keith gave the lamb a basic garlic, salt and pepper rub and let it sit on his Egg (which, I'm told, never has revealed its name) for a couple of hours. The result was perfect for the crowd - a bit more cooked than I would make it for myself, but still a bit pink on the inside and, as expected, moist even where it was well done.

Thanks, Keith, and thanks, Proto-Mechazawa-san. It was a lovely meal.

Slow-Cooked Spleen with Bacon

Spleen recipes are almost non-existent. But spleen (at least pork spleen, the only kind I've had) is so fabulous I will not be deterred.For this recipe, I wanted something beyond simple that would enhance but not at all interfere with the delicate taste of the spleen and that would be ready for me when I needed it, since I had an uncertain ending time at my client's.

Courtney's Slow-Cooked Spleen with Bacon
(To serve 1 as a main course; just use more spleens to increase the recipe)
1 pork spleen, trimmed of fat (save the caul fat (the lacy stuff) if desired)
4 pieces of thick bacon (I use fresh side)
1 approx. 11-oz container of coconut water

Lay out the trimmed spleen (see below; you can see I didn't try to get every bit of fat off, just the bulk of it. I used both scissors and a knife for various sections).

Place 2 pieces of bacon on it lengthwise. Roll it up and wrap, if desired, in caul fat. Tie it, as shown, stuffing in the bacon so it's completely hidden in the roll of spleen.

Put in the bottom of a crock pot. Put 2 slices of bacon over the top. Pour coconut water over. Cook on low all day. Turn crock pot off about a half hour before serving to let it cool slightly and rest.

Result shown above. Slice the roll into spirals about 1/4" thick

Cooking Notes: I took the spleen out of the freezer the night before. In the morning it was still slightly frozen, which made trimming the fat much easier. I was running a bit late, so unfortunately I just discarded the caul fat (a crime, I know) rather than take the time to run it under water (to defrost it the rest of the way), trim it, and wrap the spleen with it.

Eating Notes: My day was so distracting that I'd completely forgotten about the spleen until I came into the house and was greeted by this absolutely heavenly smell of bacon tinged with sweetness and a bit of a meaty odor. Even before slicing, the spleen was gorgeous. The taste didn't disappoint. Spleen, to me, is best characterized as liver with a more delicate texture and without the strong iron taste. Its mouth feel is unparalleled. Braised, it is amazingly light and tender but holds its shape when sliced. It balances the meaty unction of the bacon, and the coconut water added just the right hint of sweetness to make it all come together. Definitely a winner, and something I'll try experimenting with over time.

1966 WDEC - Apicius

The Woman's Day Encyclopedia of Cookery gives Apicius an entry as "the author of the one and only Latin cookbook of antiquity, The Roman Cookery Book, that has come down to us." Wikipedia disagrees, saying that while Marcus Gavius Apicius was indeed a gourmet and something of a Roman celebrity of the time, he was not the author of the book in question. Either way, the man seemed to be a bit of a character, a sort of pompous gourmand for the era. It's a fun, short read, perfect if you are waiting for some ancient Roman recipes to finish cooking.

1966 WDEC - Antipasto - Pickled Green Peppers

Preserved roasted red peppers are fairly easy to find in a jar. But pickled green peppers are new to me. And the recipe was very simple

Roasted Green Peppers
(to serve 6 - 8 as an appetizer)
3 - 4 Sweet green bell peppers
3 - 4 Tbsp olive oil
3 - 4 Tbsp lemon or lime juice or white wine vinegar
Salt and pepper to taste


Put green bell peppers under broiler and turn often until they blister. The tough skin can be peeled off with a knife when  peppers are held under running water. Or bake in a moderate oven (375F /190C) for 30 - 40 minutes and peel under running water. The first method is quicker. Cut peeled peppers into halves and remove the core and seeds. Then cut into strips about 1/2" wide.

Mix the other ingredients together into a marinade. Put the pepper strips in a dish and pour the marinade over them. Cover and refrigerate for at least 2 hours before serving.

These peppers will keep for 1 month, covered, in the refrigerator.

Cooking Notes: I wanted to have roasted marinated peppers rather than raw, so I used the longer, oven-roasting method. All else to spec (with the recipe cut in half).

Eating Notes: Very close to the pickled roasted red peppers I get in the store, but with just a little more bite, and with a bit more firmness to the pepper flesh. I really liked them and can see using them as an antipasto, garnish, or ingredient (they're shown above garnishing a fried whitefish fillet - the peppers and a bit of marinade were all that was needed for a sauce). I am usually careful about whether I use red/yellow bell peppers versus green ones because the chlorophyll taste in the green peppers is so much more pronounced with the green. These, though, were extremely mild and I'm not sure I could have told the difference between them and the roasted red pepper variety if I were blindfolded.

These were so easy and keep so long without having to can them that it's definitely worth doing oneself rather than buying in the store, and I have a feeling this will become one of my staple recipes. Next time I'll try a different vinegar or mix it up some other kind of way.

Update: Lane pointed out to me that he prefers to peel the roasted peppers without the running water to preserve more of the natural oils and flavorings. This is a good point; additional time would just needed to be added in to let the peppers cool. For use alone or in a mild marinade, I'd definitely do it that way. I'm not sure, given how strongly citrus this marinade was, if it would have made a real difference for this particular recipe. 

He also mentioned I didn't provide a price point. I buy whole roasted red peppers at the co-op, where at about $7 a jar they aren't cheap, but they are still a cheaper than making them from scratch - there are usually 3 or 4 whole pimiento-type peppers in the jar, probably the equivalent of about a pound fresh. Fresh red and yellow peppers run about $8 a pound at the co-op. Green peppers are much cheaper, and there is the advantage, as noted, that roasted green peppers in a jar are hard if not impossible to find.

1966 WDEC - Aperitif

James Beard (Wikipedia) wrote the "Aperitif" article in the Woman's Day Encyclopedia of Cookery, which I find interesting because I associate him with cooking, especially French cooking in America, and not with drinks. I suppose, though, that to appreciate dinner one must have a good appetite. So. (Photo of Campari and club soda served as an aperitif with appetizers via Wikimedia)

Aperitifs are alcoholic beverages taken before the meal to stimulate the appetite; digestifs follow the meal to help, as the name suggests, with digestion. Beard divides aperitifs into four categories:
1. The Vermouth group, which he epitomizes with Cinzano drunk straight and without ice ("Iced Cinzano is the American version." Need one say more?)
2. The Quinquina or or quinine group, characterized in the U.S. by Dubonnet (the blond variety, he specifies) and St. Raphael, both drunk on the rocks with a strip of lemon peel.
3. The Bitters group, exemplified by Campari drunk straight or with club soda
4. The Absinthe group, an eponymous group.

He lists other liqueurs and liquors, the most surprising to me being straight vodka, which it is hard for me to imagine sipping before a meal.

I've never had any of the liqueurs on the list of exemplars, and as a family of one I'm not likely to buy a whole bottle just to try. Perhaps when I know I'm having company. I do have an abstract fondness for Cinzano, born of being the sole person at a sidewalk cafe in an off hour, drinking espresso and awash in seas of Cinzano umbrellas. I was just out of high school, and I felt horribly romantic, like I somehow could have been part of the backdrop for a movie. And I can say with authority that the experience definitely was an appetite enhancer.

1966 WDEC - Antipasto - Ceci All' Olio (Chick Peas in Olive Oil)

This recipe for very simple, very quick antipasto appealed to me.

Instructions: Use canned or home-cooked chick peas (also called garbanzo beans), well, drained. Saute them in a little hot olive oil and sprinkle with a little garlic powder. Season to taste with salt and pepper. Serve from a relish dish.

Cooking Notes: I used one can of chick peas and five fresh garlic cloves (put through a press) instead of the garlic powder. I sauteed it all in about 2T olive oil until the chick peas were just starting to brown. Didn't add any salt or pepper.

Eating Notes: If the blog offered smell-o-rama there would be a stampede for this recipe. Garlic sauteeing in olive oil is compelling enough; adding the chick peas gives a slightly earthy nuance that makes it really hard not to turn the heat up to high in an effort to eat it sooner. And it tastes just as good. The slightly caramelized umami of the garlic combines with the earthy chick peas and the warm but clean taste of the olive oil. Total yum.

Antipasto is supposed to be small portions consumed before the meal. I had all good intentions of eating about a third of the can before dinner and then saving the rest for subsequent meals. Instead, I ended up eating the entire can before, during, and after dinner. And I don't have a single regret for having done so.

Strongly recommended. Just be sure everyone in the group has some - the garlic rules the day.

1966 WDEC - Antipasto

Next up in the Woman's Day Encyclopedia of Cookery is Antipasto (picture of a classic tray lifted from Calabria Imports website). "Antipasto is one or several foods served in small quantities as a first course. It is essential that the foods be attractively arranged," note the editors. With all my challenges plating foods, that's the last thing I need. But what the heck. That's what trying this stuff out is all about, right?

In addition to suggesting a spoke-like arrangement of various meets, pickles, and relishes, they give six recipes, a couple of which I will try:
Antipasto Variato: The classic arrangement as shown above, but with canned solid pack tuna in the middle, coated (like frosting) with mayonnaise. I am confronted with this at many a party, so no need to make it myself.
Ceci All' Olio (Chick-Peas in Olive Oil): A very simple dish of chick peas sauteed in garlic and olive oil. I will try it because it just sounds good.
Maionese di Scampi e Cavol Fiori (Shrimp and Cauliflower Salad):  Cooked shrimp and cauliflower covered with mayonnaise thinned with lemon juice. I'll pass.
Caponatina: An eggplant relish that keeps for several weeks and may be really good, but I'm just not enough of an eggplant-lover to invest the time in making it.
Pickled Green Peppers: Green peppers roasted and pickled in a simple citrus/vinegar sauce. I think I will try it.
Tomato and Mushroom Salad: What it says. Not really sure why it merits a recipe.

So. Off to the kitchen.

Horseradish-Mustard Dressing for Meat Salads

I have enough antelope to choke a horse. I'm whittling away at it by having it breakfast, lunch, dinner, and snacks. To get a little variety in my life I made a leftover antelope salad with a very basic dressing that would work well on almost any kind of salad featuring mammal (the possible exception being pork).

Proportions are 1 part strong prepared horseradish, 1 part brown mustard, 1/2 part olive oil, 1/2 part brown rice or cider vinegar. Mix and spoon over. For a one-person main dish salad, the "part" was a generous tablespoon. Preparation is speedy and the results are excellent, making it an excellent use for leftover cold meat.

Angelica Cooking Trial - Not Worth the Money

The candied angelica was touted by the Woman's Day Encyclopedia of Cookery for its "bright green color." I can imagine only that in the mid 60s they added some sort of food coloring, because the candied angelica I received would be most charitably described as "celery" as shown below.

I tasted a small piece but could only taste sugar with the faintest hint of a floral odor. So I decided to use some to make a simple vanilla pudding by infusing the milk with the angelica through the cooking stage and then garnishing the finished product with bits of the candied product.

The recipe I used (from the 1970's edition of The Joy of Cooking) did not call for you to temper the eggs - in other words, rather than mix a little of the scalded milk into the eggs and then mix that back into the hot liquid, they just had you put the eggs into the milk. I've always tempered eggs, but who was I to argue with The Joy of Cooking, so I just put the eggs into the sauce. They curdled. The sauce still thickened into a nice custardy consistency, but there was no way it would pass for pudding.

Undaunted, I made a simple, unspiced buttermilk coffee cake and served the custard sauce over it as shown above. It was incredibly good; creamy and rich but not cloying. Unfortunately, we really couldn't taste the angelica. There was possibly a nuance that maybe sorta coulda been it, but probably not.

I'll rarely admit that trying something odd and new isn't worth it. In this case, though, I will be using the angelica up and moving to something else for the next experiment. I will try infusing the rest in vodka, just as a last chance for it, but I'm not holding out hope.

Broken Arrow Ranch Saddle of Antelope

The Woman's Day Encyclopedia of Cookery had an entry for Antelope and a recipe for roast saddle of antelope. I've never had or cooked antelope, so cost be darned I was going to get some. I was resigned to not getting a saddle, because this old-fashioned cut (it is essentially the backbone and loin and ribs on each side) rarely is available. Even without that, there were not too many sources. Broken Arrow Ranch was one that seemed responsible in terms of how their commitment to only using truly wild ranging creatures, killing them humanely, and processing them well. Their website listed many cuts of Nilgai, or South Texas Antelope, and I was prepared to select a loin or something.

Instead, I decided to call them to see if something else was available. I explained what I was looking for and was put through to the butcher. He knew the cut right away, described it to me to be sure I knew what I was asking for, and then threw me for a loop by asking (in a wonderful Texas accent) what kind of antelope I wanted. (??!!) Until that moment I had just thought "antelope." He helpfully explained that the saddle cut on a Nilgai would be about 40 lbs; the same cut on a Blackbuck would be about 10 lbs. "Ten pounds!" I said as emphatically as I possibly could. "Definitely. Ten pounds. Not Forty." Then he asked when I wanted to serve it and was very happy when I said about 10 days from the call.

It turns out I was in luck. Broken Arrow doesn't often get Blackbuck, but they just had two come in that he hadn't started breaking down yet. He would special cut the saddle for me and it would have the perfect aging time to get to me the following Wednesday so I could serve it on the weekend. He explained how he would fabricate it. He was very clear that any further cuts I had to do would not require a saw. I proudly proclaimed that I have a saw (although I am sure it is not anywhere near as nice or well-used as his). He said more, but I was so happy I was only half paying attention.

When the meat came, I about jumped up and down. It was packaged and then wrapped in butcher paper, so it only came out one parcel at a time. First I pulled out the saddle (in the middle of the picture above). I wondered if that was it, but the saddle was just under five pounds, and I knew the box weighed more than that. Then I pulled out the two other packages and went from happy jumping to a near swoon. They were two absolutely gorgeous rib racks. The part of the conversation I'd tuned out came back to me and I realized that for my money I got art as well as meat. The cuts are simply elegant.

I put the saddle in the fridge to roast on Mechazawa-san for Sunday dinner following the instructions in the Woman's Day Encyclopedia of Cookery. When I opened it I was again just thrilled by how lovely the cut was (shown below).

The recipe called for it to be grilled 25 minutes at high heat followed by an hour and a half at low. An unexpected trip out led to it sitting on Mechazawa-san for an extra hour, so the meat was dryer than optimal, but still it was excellent. The meat was incredibly lean but not at all gamy. The flavor would please people who like more exotic meats and still be accessible to people who are less adventurous. Picture below shows it.

The rib racks have gone into the freezer for future use. The website for Broken Arrow has been bookmarked.

1966 WDEC - Antelope

The Woman's Day Encyclopedia of Cookery doesn't seem to anticipate that one will be encountering antelope frequently. Their brief entry explains that there are no true antelope native to the U.S. The pronghorn, shown above, is often called an "antelope" (and the creature indicated in the famous line "where the deer and the antelope play") but it is not a true antelope. Nonetheless, I believe it is the pronghorn they are considering when they give the roasting instructions for the creature.

What they do not say is that two true antelope species, the Nilgai (above) and the Blackbuck (below) were imported to Texas from India as game animals in the 1930s, and have continued to thrive there.
The Nilgai has become so successful that it is commonly called South Texas Antelope.

I learned this in my quest to order some antelope to try roasting the saddle of antelope per the WDEC instructions. I found a source from Broken Arrow Ranch and will blog that (extremely positive) experience separately. They offer both imported species of true antelope, although they have a more ready supply of Nilgai. As a family of one, I decided my stomach and my wallet would both prefer the Blackbuck (saddle cut weight approximately 10 lbs) to the Nilgai (40 lbs for the same cut).

The WDEC editors consider the meat too lean to cook without larding. I may or may not lard it depending on how I feel.

1966 WDEC - Annatto

I wasn't going to post anything about annatto (photo by Leonardo Re-Jorge via Wikimedia), which the Woman's Day Encyclopedia of Cookery editors dismiss as a coloring agent used mostly in cheese. But Wikipedia indicates it has much more broad uses, especially in Latin American cooking, and really does deserve mention as an important culinary spice in that area. And Amazon offers several types of annatto for sale, in both seed and powdered form. It looks as though I should be able to get annatto seed fairly easily in the Latin American section of my local Giant. The Food Network has an interesting recipe for making an annatto-seed infused olive oil that I am going to make and then use as an ingredient or marinade depending on the taste.

Liver with Anise-Basil Butter

Wanting to try something different with anise was a bit difficult, since I use it frequently in baking, stews, and sauces. Then I stumbled across a very simple flavored butter featuring aniseed and fresh basil at Epicurious and I was sold. I decided to spread the butter over some really nice beef liver from the farmer's market (I forget which vendor) and serve that with some kale cooked in ghee.

Cooking Notes: I tweaked the Epicurious recipe a bit by using a heavy hand with the aniseed. Still I felt it could use a bit more anise taste, so I added just two drops of anise oil. Epicurious had it as a steak sauce, I served it over liver and, as shown above, with a side of kale (cooked with a bit of spring onion and parsley). The liver was sauteed in ghee for 1-1/2 minutes per side and was done perfectly to my taste.

Eating Notes: Such a nice combination I'm surprised I've not run into it before. The basil has a sharpness that complements the sweetness of the anise, and there is just enough lemon to bring out the flavors of both. Serving it against the backdrop of the iron-rich liver made the sauce even more compelling; I was afraid the lemon would end up competing with the sharp iron, but the butter/herb mix kept the flavors under control. The result was unexpected and very good.

Guest Post! 1966 WDEC - West Virginia - Pot Roast with Apple Cider

[Today I am beyond pleased to feature Food for Real's first Guest Post! Our contributor is Jess, a dedicated foodie (and beerie), who co-blogs at my hoppy place. I've put the recipe itself at the end, so you can get to the good part (Jess's notes) first. So, without further ado... ]


My freezer is full of wonderful beef from a local farm in Sharpsburg MD. This is grass fed, grain finished, locally processed, damn tasty cow. We call it "Happy Cow" because this cow had one bad day. Granted, it was a really bad day, but its life up to that point was pretty awesome. The steaks have just enough marbling for great taste and nice mouth feel. The ground beef is lean and pink. The short ribs were in-freakin-credible slow cooked in a Korean sauce.

So here I am with a recipe from the West Virginia hills and an eye round from the Happy Cow. First things first, read the recipe. Simple, straight forward: Marinate, brown, braise. Into a container went the cider, cloves, salt, ginger, beef, and cinnamon, to marinate overnight. You see that I missed something, right? Well, so did I...later. Crap. Ok. Fine. In the words of my mother's GPS: Recalculating. So what do onions contribute to a marinade that I can't get from browning them before braising?

Step two: Brown beef in fat (Courtney would use lard or butter, I used vegetable oil). Caramelize onions in remainder. Add beef and marinade back in. Cover, reduce heat (not an easy task with a ceramic cooktop), cook until done. What's done? I like rare beef, but this is a pot roast. How long should it burble away? I gave it an hour, turning it occasionally. Maybe more. Until the internal temp was in the 140s. Remove from heat and let it rest while I cooked up local broccoli from the first installment of my CSA.

How'd it turn out? The cider marinade definitely worked its way into the beef. The taste was pleasantly apple-y without being cloying. The beef was tender-ish. The spices clung nicely to the onions. It was a very fall dish. In retrospect, I should have done this in the slow cooker. Set it for 4 to 6 hours and leave it alone. Something to remember for next time!

That was a hoot! Thanks!!!

Pot Roast with Apple Cider
(to serve 6 - 8)
3-1/2 to 4-lb eye round of beef
1 onion, sliced
6 whole cloves
Piece of gingerroot
Small piece of cinnamon stick
1-1/2 tsp salt
2 cups apple cider
2 tbsp shortening or lard

Put beef with onion, seasonings, and cider in a large bowl in refrigerator. Let marinate overnight. Wipe meat; brown slowly in fat. Add marinade, cover and simmer over low heat for about 2-1/2 hours, or until meat is tender. Serve with pan juices.

1966 WDEC - Anise

Anise, I learned from the Woman's Day Encyclopedia of Cookery, belongs to the parsley family, which makes sense given the shape and structure of the leaves and plant (picture via Wikimedia). It is, says the WDEC, one of the earliest aromatic plants for which we have an historical record. The WDEC further claims anise was popularized in Europe by the Emperor Charlemagne in the 8th century when he caused it to be grown in his garden in Germany.

The editors recommend using aniseed liberally in appetizers, seafood cocktail sauce, stews, pot roasts, Chinese food (?), baking, and mixed into soft mild cheeses. They give a recipe for a Chinese Roast Goose that if I might try if I wasn't a household of one, and for springerle, stamped shortbread cookies I used to make as a kid.

The WDEC mentions only aniseed. I also use anise oil, shown above, and really like it. It is very intense, and a couple of drops go a long way. I use it both in baked goods and in cooked foods where for whatever reason a bunch of whole seeds will detract, or when the cooking time is going to be short and at a relatively low temperature. (Phil give me the tiny bottle I have as a stocking stuffer me several years ago and only now is it starting to run out. I noticed when I took the picture that it's from Lorann, the same firm that does the orange emulsion I liked so much. This pleases me, since I know I'll be able to get more when the bottle does finally empty.)

I wanted to make some new anise-related thing, so I tried an anise butter, which I will separately blog to post tomorrow.

Leftover Cream of Caper Sauce Soup

Needed a fast dinner and was planning to have liver and onions, but the liver was still a frozen brick. What to do? I still had a full cup of leftover caper sauce from the Boiled Leg of Mutton recipe I made last week. So I stirred in milk until the mixture took on a nice cream soup consistency, heated it up, and added a parsley garnish. Results shown above.

The amazing thing was that while I made this for quick nourishment, it was really good. It didn't taste like thinned-out sauce, it tasted like a true cream soup. The salty capers and fresh parsley balanced the rich soup and the combined whole had a great mouth feel. Makes me wonder what other sauce leftovers could get a similar treatment.

1966 WDEC - Angelica

Angelica (illustration from Prof. Dr. Otto Wilhelm Thomé Flora von Deutschland, Österreich und der Schweiz 1885, Gera, Germany via Wikimedia; Permission granted to use under GFDL by Kurt Stueber) is next in the Woman's Day Encyclopedia of Cookery. I learned a couple of things in this short entry. Supposedly the herb, which is native to northern Europe and the European mountains, was a folk remedy/protector against "witches and fearsome creatures" and was held by some in Elizabethan England to be a cure to the Plague. All parts of the plant are aromatic, and are variously used as flavorings in cakes, candies and liqueurs. The WDEC recommends using candied angelica as a garnish for desserts and cakes.

Use by home cooks appears to have been limited in the mid 60s: "It is not readily available as other glaceed or candied fruit, but food specialty stores carry it." This is just as true now. While angelica oil is readily available as an herbal remedy, angelica as a food is hard to come by. The only source I found is Market Hall Foods, and their entry implies even they don't always have it in stock. I ordered some and when it comes will see what I can do with it, either as a garnish or as something more interesting.

In the interim, I suppose I could buy some Benedictine, which includes angelica as a flavoring. My mother used to favor B&B (Benedictine and Brandy) as an after-dinner drink for holiday dinners (I think one bottle lasted about a decade), but I don't know that I've ever had it.

1966 WDEC - Angel Food Cake

The Woman's Day Encyclopedia of Cookery waxes most poetic about angel food, "one of the most glorious of American cakes." We are also told that "women used to be judged as bakers based on the quality of their angel food." I've had angel food cake tons of times, but I never made it. Now that I know I can bring baked goods in to my client site, where they will disappear almost instantly, why not?

Basic Angel Food Cake
(Serves 10 - 12)
1 cup sifted cake flour
1-1/2 cups sugar
1-1/2 cups egg whites (10-12 medium-size eggs)
1/4 tsp salt
1-1/2 tsp cream of tartar
1-1/2 tsp vanilla extract
1/2 tsp almond extract

Preheat oven to 350F (180C). Sift flour and 3/4 cup of the sugar together 3 times. Beat egg whites with salt and cream of tartar in large bowl at high speed of mixer until light and fluffy.

Sprinkle remaining sugar over egg whites, 2 tablespoons at a time, beating thoroughly after each addition. Continue beating until stiff peaks form. Fold in extracts.

Sift dry ingredients, 2 tablespoons at a time, over beaten egg whites. Fold in gently but thoroughly with a wire whip or rubber spatula.

Pour batter into ungreased tube pan (10 x 4 inches). Make sure that there is not a trace of any fat or grease in the pan or the cake won't rise. Cut gently through batter to remove large air bubbles. Bake 40 - 50 minutes or until crust is golden brown and cracks are very dry.

Invert pan immediately and place on funnel or bottle (see pic above). Cool cake in upside-down pan for at least 1 hour. Cut cake out of pan with a sharp knife. (Note: My angel food pan is in two parts, as shown below.

This made it really easy to get the cake out. After cutting around the outside edge, the bottom/spindle portion, with the cake on it, lifted out cleanly. I was then able to slice between the bottom and the cake, and finally around the spindle. The result was a cake that was remarkable unmarred, as shown in the next picture.

Using 2 foks, separate cake into pieces or slice with a sawing motion using a knife with a serrated edge.

Cooking Notes: I cut the recipe in half but otherwise followed all the instructions exactly, using the convection oven setting (to promote a more even rise). Making it was not at all as fussy as the instructions make it look, and it came together quickly. The time involved really is in the baking and cooling. Even with the half-cake, it still baked just over 40 minutes before the crust was golden and very dry. And then it had to cool an hour before I could separate it from the pan.

Eating Notes: As good and less dry than angel food cakes I've had in the past. I like the half-height cake because it makes nice coffee-cake sized portions. The texture was uniform, pleasantly spongy, and melted in the mouth like a nice meringue. I didn't put any glaze, frosting or filling on because I wanted to be sure I got the flavor of the cake itself. I was very happy with the simple almond-vanilla flavor. I read someplace that incorporating spices into angel food cake is a trend, and I immediately thought cardamom would be really nice as an addition. You'd only need a very light hand.

Easy and Versatile Japanese-ish Sauce

Doing the recipe testing project for The Japanese Grill turned me on to mirin (Wikipedia), which is essentially sweet Japanese rice cooking wine. I've come up with a pretty simple recipe that can be scaled at will:

Courtney's Maybe-a-bit-Japanese Versatile Sauce
(to make as much as you want)
1 part soy sauce (standard Kikkoman type)
1 part mirin
1 medium garlic clove for each tablespoon of liquid, put through a press
Approximately 1/4" piece peeled fresh gingerroot for each tablespoon of liquid, sliced thin

Mix all ingredients and let sit for at least a half hour. Can be used as a marinade, a cooking sauce, or a dipping sauce at will. I've used it to marinate duck breasts, strained and poured over rice, as a "dip" for radishes, and as a cooking sauce for bok choy - it was fabulous in all applications.

1966 WDEC - Anchovy; Anchovy and Potato Casserole

Hooray for the Anchovy! Not so much for the anchovy itself, versatile and tasty though it is, but for it being the first Woman's Day Encyclopedia of Cookery entry after the long journey through "American Cookery."

The WDEC gives anchovies the standard treatment, recommending using a "judicious hand" -  1/8 tsp of anchovy paste per 1 cup of food - to "add zest to a sauce or a dull dish" and "pep up leftover foods."

While I do use anchovy paste frequently, it's something I used with a very judicious hand while Phil was alive, because it was one of the few things he didn't care for. When we still ordered pizza, I'd always get the anchovies on the side. There was one place I loved because they'd give me a huge supply of fillets, enough for the pizza and a week of salads. Then they changed managers or something, and started providing instead a little cup of chopped fish meat. It was a sad day.

The recipe the WDEC gives for the little fish is for a potato casserole that looked good enough that I said why not.

Anchovy and Potato Casserole
(To serve 4 - 6)
Buttered Crumbs
6 medium raw potatoes, peeled
12 flat anchovy fillets, drained (about 1 2-oz tin)
1 onion, minced
2 cups light cream
1/4 cup butter or margarine
Pimiento
Parsley

Preheat oven to 350F (180C). Grease a casserole. Sprinkle bottom and sides of the greased casserole generously with buttered crumbs. Cut potatoes into paper-thin slices. Chop 10 anchovies. Place alternating layers of potato slices and anchovies in casserole, sprinkling each layer with minced onion; the top layer should be potatoes. Pour cream over mixture and dot with butter. Bake 35-40 minutes or until potatoes are tender and the top is delicately browned. Garnish with remaining anchovies, pimiento, and parsley.

Cooking Notes: To scale this to something more appropriate for a single-family household, I used one Yukon Gold potato and quartered the other ingredients -- except for the anchovies, which I kept full strength. All else to spec, except that I didn't have any pimientos for garnish. Picture above shows the finished casserole, which was perfect for one as a generous single-dish dinner, or would have served 2 as a side.

Eating Notes: Perfect comfort food. Even leaving the anchovies at full strength they were not overpowering, and the long cooking with the potatoes and cream drew out and distributed their saltiness. I think even the WDEC editors knew they were perhaps using too judicious a hand on this, because the picture of the casserole in the book shows it with six anchovies as garnish, not the mere two called for in the recipe.

My advice would be, if you don't like anchovies, follow their suggestions, but if you do, embrace the fish and you will not be disappointed.

1966 WDEC - American Cookery - Sigh of Relief

Yowzers. If I had known back on July 4, 2009 (an appropriate day to begin) how long it would take to slog through the "American Cookery" section of the Woman's Day Encyclopedia of Cookery I would have been tempted to skip it altogether. But I'm glad I persevered. Despite a lot of "meh," I did manage to learn a bit of food history and to try some things I otherwise would not have. And that, after all, is the point of this exercise.

Phil started getting psyched when we got to "Virginia" about finishing up and wanted us to write a comprehensive summary. As a consequence my heart isn't really in doing something full blown without him, so this will have to suffice. Ironically, he repeatedly joked that we would spend the rest of our lives working on this section.

So. I will raise a special glass when I move on to Anchovy.

1966 WDEC - Wyoming - Apple-Butter Pie

Closing out the "American Cookery" section for me is this pie, which I think of as a sort of classic of the era, when stand-ins were needed because fresh fruit just wasn't available year-round.

Apple-Butter Pie
(To make 1 9" pie) 
Pastry for 1-crust 9" pie, unbaked
1/2 cup sugar
3 Tbsp all-purpose flour
1/2 cup apple butter
2 Tbsp melted butter
2 eggs, well beaten
1-1/2 cups milk
1 cup light cream
1/2 tsp ground nutmeg

Preheat oven to 350F (180C). Use pastry to line a 9" pie pan, fluting a high edge. Mix sugar with flour. Gradually stir in apple butter and melted butter. Beat eggs with milk and cream. Beat into apple-butter mixture. Pour into pastry-lined pie pan. Sprinkle top with nutmeg. Bake 50-60 minutes or until a knife inserted comes out clean. Cool on a rack.

Cooking Notes: Once again The Japanese Grill project rubbed off on me and I basically followed the recipe without even cutting back on the sugar. I did use heavy cream instead of light, because I like it better and it was what I had on hand. For the nutmeg, I grated fresh directly onto the pie using my Mouli grater. I also had enough scrap pastry left over to make a tart crust, so I cooked a tart in addition to the pie (see picture below). I ate the tart myself and brought the pie in to my client's.

Eating Notes: Surprisingly good and not too sweet. The apple butter itself was excellent, with a depth of flavor that almost felt caramelized. Made into the pie, it was decadent, rich, and refreshing at the same time. The fresh nutmeg made a difference, filling the house with an unseasonable but welcome Christmas-y smell. As a custard pie, it's a lot less messy than a traditional apple pie, which also makes it ideal for bringing to work and other events where sloppy may not be a virtue.

Nice to end the "American Cookery" chapter with a winner.

Next up: Anchovy. Hooray!

1966 WDEC - Wyoming - Boiled Leg of Mutton with Caper Sauce

I didn't have mutton, but I did have a nice small leg of lamb.

Boiled Leg of Mutton with Caper Sauce
(To serve 10)
1 leg of mutton, shank end removed
1/4 cup fat
2 onions, cut in quarters
1 bay leaf
1/2 tsp peppercorns
2 tsp salt
6 cups boiling water
1/4 cup all-purpose flour
1 tsp cider vinegar
1/2 cup light cream
1/2 cup drained capers

Brown meat in hot fat in large heavy Dutch oven. Pour off excess shortening. Add onions, bay leaf, peppercorns, and 2 tsp salt. Add boiling water. Cover and bring to a boil. Reduce heat and simmer until tender, about 3 hours. Remove meat to large platter and keep warm.

Skim off fat from liquid. In small saucepan, mix flour with 1/4 cup of the fat. Gradually stir in 3 cups of the liquid, stir over low heat, and cook until thickened. Add vinegar, cream, and capers. Reheat but do not boil. Serve at once.

Cooking Notes: I made the lamb in the crock pot instead of a Dutch oven. Because of some prior commitments, I ate half the lamb the first day, just out of the crock pot and with some of the juices. It was fabulous. The next day I reheated the lamb and used the rest of the juices (about 1-1/2 cups) to make the sauce, with about 1/2 rations on the sauce ingredients. The lamb juices didn't have a lot of fat, so I used lard to make up what I needed. I also used heavy cream instead of light. All else to spec. I had about a cup of the caper sauce left over; it will be great on more lamb, beef, or pork.

Eating Notes: After my experience testing for The Japanese Grill I have been more patient about sticking to the recipe, and held off of my urge to add more spice to the sauce recipe. This was a good thing. The capers added plenty of salt and a clean taste to balance the rich fat and cream. The lamb was just gamy enough to add a third pleasant taste dimension. The peppercorns (left in from the original cooking) added little bursts of slightly hot spice. Simply fabulous.

Ant Invasion

Above: the first kitchen ant of the season. In response, I mopped, I put the cat food dishes up on their little moat-stands, I have pulled out the dedicated sealed "garbage" container (an empty lard bucket), and I wiped everything down. Four hours later, invasion of the dishwasher. I will co-exist with the ants for the next 6 months, and my karma will decrease bit by bit every time I wash one down the drain or hit the "rinse" cycle on the dishwasher in frustration. We will do our little dance, me cleaning up and they pointing out the spots I've missed; the cats dropping tithes around their bowls throughout the day; the occasional forgetfulness on my part that leads to a little ant Mardi Gras. And some time in October they'll just disappear as suddenly as they came.