As integral to our family life as food was, I didn’t really learn to cook a lot of things growing up. Mom had a system, and it seemed to stress her out to have us in there when she was cooking.
But it’s hard to mess up a salad. We didn’t need a lot of direction (other than the main one of chopping everything into small bits so that a long-ass piece of lettuce doesn’t get dressing all over your face when you’re trying to eat it), so once my sister and I got old enough to wield a knife with minimal risk of peril, making a salad was our job.
I don’t remember a time growing up when there wasn’t a salad in the fridge, and that faithful constant remains true today at the farm. We made one every night at supper with enough left over for lunch or for a snack the next day. To this day, I count salad among my snack food options.
To this day, I also feel compelled to visit the salad bar if it’s available wherever I eat. I don’t always give in, but I feel the tug.
I do not often make a salad at home, though. I have done that enough to last a lifetime. I will buy the bagged salads with the ingredients already chopped and the toppings already prepared (Taylor Farms kits are my faves, particularly the Everything, Asiago Kale, Sweet Kale, and Thai Chili Mango kits) and make a whole meal out of them, but I rarely buy the ingredients alone.
But occasionally, I get a nostalgic urge for a basic green salad and the compulsion to chop it up myself. When that happens, here are my favorite ingredients:
Leafy greens of some sort (usually some type of lettuce, but I also love arugula and kale)
Radishes
Snap peas
Carrots
Whole cherry or grape tomatoes (I do not like tomato juice dripping freely throughout my salad)
Black or Kalamata olives
Dried cranberries or apricots
Some kind of cheese (my typical preferences are a sharp, hard variety such as cheddar, feta, or goat cheese)
A little bit of dressing (specifically French, Russian, Catalina, honey mustard, or Caesar)
[The makers of this cereal saw me coming. And it did not disappoint.]
Growing up, we mostly ate sensible, real food and balanced meals. We regularly ate dinner together as a family, especially when we were young. There was a main dish (typically meat or some type of casserole), a few sides, some type of bread, and usually something for dessert.
For breakfast most days, though, we were on our own while everyone was getting themselves ready, and we needed something simple we could make ourselves. So we almost always had a few boxes of cereal in the house. There are several that hold a bit of nostalgia for me:
Cheerios
Froot Loops
Corn Pops (known as their original name from Mom’s childhood, Sugar Pops, at our house)
Rice Krispies (and occasionally, Cocoa Krispies)
Chex (rice, corn, or wheat, depending on what was on sale)
Grape Nuts (neither grapes nor nuts but a fantastic topping for ice cream)
We also frequently had snack cakes at our house. They were easy sweet treats that no one had to take the time to make. Mom often included them in our lunch boxes. Is it necessary to provide a dessert in a child’s lunch box? No. But when you are raised (as she was) to consider dessert an essential part of a whole meal, well, old habits die hard. We had Zebra Cakes (although they were just called Snak Cakes when we were little) and the Oatmeal Creme Pies and Honey Buns and Swiss Cake Rolls (my personal favorite). Little Debbie’s competitor, Hostess, also made some of our favorites – Twinkies and Ding Dongs (and to a lesser extent, the regular cupcakes).
Today, I try not to purchase snack cakes very often. I will eat too many at once and get that wild feeling behind my eyes that happens when I eat too much sugar. Ditto for sugary cereals (although I usually have some Cheerios or Chex or Kix around for nights when I don’t want to make anything).
But when I saw the Swiss Cake Roll Cereal in the grocery store last week, I just couldn’t resist. Good going, marketing team. Let me introduce you to your target consumer (me). I tried to lower my standards before trying them. I mean, there was a good chance they were not going to be great. Sometimes these things don’t go well at all.
They tasted like Cocoa Krispies. And yes, I drank the faux chocolate milk the cereal made right out of the bowl at the end, just like I did when I was little (including spilling it on my shirt).
Thanks for the memories, Little Debbie and Kellogg’s. 10/10, will purchase again.
In our house on the farm, all the spices were in the cabinet closest to the stove. You open up the door, and there are a couple of Lazy Susans there, laden with every herb, spice, and flavor enhancer you could ever want.
I used to keep all my spices in a cabinet, too, but then somewhere online (probably Pinterest), I saw a picture of a spice drawer, and my brain practically sparkled. So now I have a drawer that I can open and see everything I typically use right there. So convenient! I keep way more than this on hand, and my own blends don’t fit, so they’re still in the cabinet. But the spice drawer is one of the best things I’ve done to my kitchen in a long time.
I add some type of seasoning to everything I make (beyond salt and pepper). I started building my own herb and spice collection when I moved into my first apartment. We had a friend who made us everything bagels by just adding random things from our spice cabinet. It’s my favorite way to make a bagel.
But my experimental tendencies started long before that. Mom usually stuck to whatever the food or recipe traditionally called for, but Dad likes playing around with different flavor profiles. Almost every conversation we have eventually gravitates toward food and the new things we’re trying.
Even when I’m shopping, I keep an eye out for spice mixes and marinades he (or my brother-in-law) might like. For my own usage, I usually like to make my own because most pre-made spice mixes are too salty for my taste. I leave out salt and pepper because I add those to taste depending on whether I’m cooking for myself – little to no salt and lots of pepper – or for others – a reasonable bit of both (or if i’m cooking for my friend Steph, no pepper at all anywhere near the dish). There are several different blends I mix and keep on hand, including…
Italian – oregano, basil, thyme, garlic powder, rosemary
Spicy Italian – same as above but with cayenne pepper
I use curry powder and garam masala pretty often, too, but I just add a little kick (i.e., chili powder or cayenne) to blends that I get at the farmer’s market or grocery store and call it a day. One of these days, I’m going to get my hands on my own copy of Padma Lakschmi’s Encyclopedia of Spices and Herbs, though, and…I may have to clear out another drawer.
Yesterday, I talked a little about making sauces, but what I didn’t tell you is that the way I discovered how easy it was to make your own sauce was by pouring my favorite roasted tomato soup over some pasta because I didn’t want to go to the store to get spaghetti sauce. What I expected to be an it’ll-do-in-a-pinch experience turned out to be one of my favorite a-ha moments to date.
Soup season is a bit of a misnomer with me. All seasons can be soup seasons if you try hard enough. When the weather turns even the slightest hint of chilly (I’ll even take a pleasant, less-hot breeze in July), I make soup. It is easily one of my top five favorite foods. I eat it all year long. I’ve even been known to turn the fan higher or the a/c down so that I can eat it comfortably. Even if it’s not soup weather outside, I can make it soup weather in my apartment.
I often eat it as a side, pairing it with a sandwich or a hearty salad. But the best way to eat soup is by sipping it straight from a cup, only veering from this method to dip a piece of crusty bread into it. No utensils required.
Of course, this only works if the soup is mostly broth or pureed. If you leave big chunks like you see pictured above in it, trying to drink it from a cup is sure to be messy. However, take your trusty immersion blender to that concoction, and soon you have a perfectly sippable and dippable soup.
What I love most about making soup is that it’s difficult to mess it up. I mean, you can – I certainly have – but you really have to try hard to produce a soup that’s just inedible. But most of the time, I can create a warm, wonderful bowl of happiness from whatever I have in my fridge, freezer, and pantry.
Since I don’t always have the same ingredients on hand, it is possible I will make the same soup several different ways. For example, one of my favorites is split pea soup, but I don’t have a set list of ingredients I need (other than split peas, of course) to make it happen. Other than the peas themselves, my last few versions had little in common. But they were all good.
Today, instead of a recipe that tells you one way to do it, I’m going to give you a roadmap for making your own unique soup. Play around with it, and see what you come up with!
Basic steps:
Read through these steps and take inventory of what you have. Once you have decided what you want to put in your soup, chop/dice/mince everything so that it’s ready to be added when its turn comes.
Saute your aromatics – onions, garlic, fennel, celery, bell peppers (or any type of peppers, for that matter). I usually use onions, garlic, and one additional aromatic.
Add your vegetables – carrots, potatoes, tomatoes, corn, any sort of squash, etc. What you add in this step mostly depends on the type of soup you have in mind, but sometimes it’s fun to just throw in whatever is taking up space in your crisper and let whatever happens happen. Let them soften a little before you move on.
Pour in your soup base – some type of stock (veggie, mushroom, beef, chicken, etc.), tomato sauce, or just water. I often dissolve an onion soup packet in water and use that. You need enough to fully cover everything else. Add water if it looks too thick at any point.
Add seasonings – literally anything you want. Oregano, basil, parsley, bay leaves (remove it before eating) – all of these are standard soup herbs. You are certainly not limited to them, though. I have been on a garam masala kick lately. Highly recommend. This is also the time to add salt (to taste).
Bring to a boil, reduce heat, and simmer until you just can’t take it anymore and have to have a bowl.
Optional steps:
Add beans – during step 4. If canned, rinse before adding; don’t just dump in from the can. If dry, you’re going to need to add more liquid and keep an eye on it while they cook (for a few hours) so you can add more water as needed. Ditto for split peas and lentils, although they won’t take as long to cook.
Add carbs – during step 6. After you have a good boil going, slip in some pasta or rice for a heartier soup (you’ll need more liquid if you’re planning on doing this). Follow package directions and cook until done.
Add meat – after step 2 (if raw – cook fully before going forward) or after step 3 (if already cooked – great way to use leftover roast, btw).
Add dairy – during step 6 after you reduce heat and reach a simmer point – really, about 5-10 minutes before serving, just enough to warm and incorporate it. Cream is the traditional favorite, but I’ve used milk, evaporated milk, plain Greek yogurt, and sour cream. My favorite thing to add at this stage is not dairy at all – coconut milk, which is especially good with warm spice blends, such as curry.
I hope you have fun experimenting. I’d love to hear about what you come up with.
I’m pretty sure my mom baked all year long when we were growing up. We always had muffins we could warm up from the freezer for a quick breakfast, and I can’t imagine that we went too many weeks without biscuits or banana bread or something. But I just cannot fathom heating my whole apartment up by turning on the oven when the outside temps reach the upper 80s and above. I cannot take the heat; ergo, I stay out of the kitchen. I mean, I stick around long enough to throw some things in the Instapot or slow cooker or do a quick stir fry, but otherwise, for about half the year, my diet is mostly sandwiches, salads, and charcuterie (whetting your appetite for a future post here).
One of my favorite smells, however, is something baking in the oven. I love that first moment of walking into a bakery. One of the weird, lovely things about living in an apartment is that I get to smell what my neighbors bake, too. It’s a very soothing, very homey aroma, and I adore it.
So by the time it gets cool enough, I usually have a list of the things I’m excited to bake. One of the first things that goes in my oven every year is beer bread.
You can use a mix to make beer bread, but you don’t really need it. It’s just as easy from scratch. All the mix contains is self-rising flour and sugar, and I prefer my beer bread without the sugar anyway. So you just mix 3 cups of self-rising flour with a beer, plop it into a standard 9×5 nonstick loaf pan (or six mini-bundts, if you want to be cute about it, which I absolutely do), pour a ridiculous amount of melted butter over the top, and bake at 375 degrees for 30-40 minutes.
“But Suzanne,” you say. “I don’t keep self-rising flour in my pantry.” Well, if you have some basic baking ingredients in your cupboard (and if you at least keep all-purpose flour, you probably do), you can amend this easily. Just take regular flour and mix in 1 1/2 teaspoons of baking powder and 1/4 teaspoon of salt for each cup of flour. Voila – self-rising flour.
It’s also a good idea to sift the flour before mixing in the beer. This helps you avoid a dense-biscuit situation. I faux-sift, and it turns out great. Instead of scooping the measuring cup, packing the flour in, leveling it, and then sifting it, I just spoon it into the cup bit by bit until it’s full and don’t pack it. I never understood packing the flour just to turn around and immediately unpack it by sifting (if you do understand and want to share in the comments, I would love to learn that). But the spoon method has never failed me, so that’s probably what I’m going to keep doing.
Without further ado – here’s an easy way to make your home smell delicious.
Ingredients
1 stick salted butter (maybe – see note at the end)
3 cups self-rising flour
1 beer (I typically use some sort of wheat ale, but feel free to experiment with your favorite)
Steps
Preheat oven to 375.
Melt the butter. Brush the pan you’re baking in with part of it. Yes, I do this even with my non-stick pans so that the texture on the bottom of the bread comes out similar to the texture on the top. Set the rest of the butter aside.
In a bowl, mix the flour and beer.
Transfer the dough to the pan, leaving at least an inch at the top for it to rise.
Pour the remaining butter over the top.
Bake for 30-40 minutes or until a knife inserted in the center comes out clean (albeit slightly buttered).
Most beer bread recipes will not call for this much butter, but I do it this way because 1) I love butter and 2) I can just eat the bread as is without wanting to add anything to it. I also like the almost-crunch it gives to the outside when you surround the loaf with it before baking. If you prefer a more traditional bread texture, though, simply use unsalted butter, reduce the amount to half a stick, and add the melted butter to the flour and beer when you mix them together, saving a little to brush over the top for browning purposes. In this case, you can also skip greasing the pan (assuming your pan is non-stick – otherwise definitely grease the pan).
One might argue that you truly only need half a stick of butter even if you do pour it over the top. It will still give you that nice crunch. My only concern is…why on earth would you deny yourself extra butter?
My family has an interesting quirk in that, while so many of us grow many of our own vegetables (or trade with neighbors who do), we often resort to canned or jarred sauces. For example, most of the sauce for spaghetti we ate when I was growing up was premade and shelf-stable. Given how many other things we made from scratch, this gave me the idea that sauce was difficult or time-consuming to make.
I was so happy when I figured out I was mistaken.
These days, I make most of my own sauces. Some of them are quick; some of them are slow-cooked and 100% worth the time and effort.
A good tomato sauce can be either.
When I have the time, my favorite way to make a basic marinara is with a bunch of fresh tomatoes, peeled and roasted. Roast some onions, garlic, and a little red pepper. I add some seasonings (see below regarding my own preferences), and then slow-cook it on low for 3-4 hours. So good.
The quicker version is also no slouch, and it only takes about 10-15 minutes.
Ingredients:
Olive oil
As much garlic as you want
1 yellow onion, chopped
1 large (28 oz) can crushed tomatoes (the fire-roasted kind if they’re in stock)
Italian seasoning blend, to taste [you can buy this if you want, but if you have a good herb/spice collection, it’s just as easy to mix your own. Mine contains oregano, basil, thyme, parsley, and red pepper flakes.]
A couple of shakes of cayenne pepper (probably about 2 teaspoons), or to taste
Salt and pepper, to taste
Fresh basil or parsley to serve (optional)
Steps:
Heat olive oil over medium heat.
Saute the garlic and onion together until a little soft (about 3 minutes).
Pour in the tomatoes and let it warm up to a simmer.
Add seasonings. You can do what you want, but my advice is don’t be stingy. Mine has a good layer of green across the top of the sauce before I stir it in.
Add cayenne to give it a little kick. If you’re feeding some sensitive mouths, I recommend starting with a little (1/2 teaspoon), stirring, simmering, and then testing to see if you want to add more. You can, of course, leave it out altogether if you want.
Add salt and pepper to taste.
After the tomatoes have been simmering with the spices for about 5 minutes, it is ready to serve. Use it to top pasta or any other time you need a tomato sauce. It’s a particularly delicious sauce to use when you’re making Eggs in Purgatory (lean toward more cayenne) or Shakshuka (add paprika and roasted red peppers).
I’m so happy it’s Friday. I’ll be even happier when tomorrow is over, because it’s UNT Fall Preview Day, and we are in for a long, busy day. I’m going to have to move comfort food night to tomorrow and sleep in on Sunday.
But right now, it’s 8:00 on Friday night. I’m on my second glass of wine, after having watched a couple of Gilmore Girls eps and eaten a mountain of popcorn, air-popped and then lightly buttered and salted. Today was hectic, and tomorrow will be…whatever it will be…and I am without a working vehicle at the moment…but tonight I don’t have anywhere to be or anything pressing to do, and the wine is good. I’m having the perfect evening.
Here are some foodie things I enjoyed this week:
How To Read a Recipe (Joy the Baker) – I appreciate it any time someone breaks a process down that, on the surface, seems like a no-brainer. Turns out, very few things are no-brainers. I need my brain for most things, including reading a recipe. As always, Joy’s advice is spot on and useful and touches on things that are not immediately obvious to me, even as someone who has been successfully reading and using recipes for decades. And there are other things that are so immediately obvious to me that I do them without consciously thinking of it, and thus forget that other people haven’t learned that yet, which is good to keep in mind when writing my own recipes.
My friend Shadan, leader and host of our cookbook club, has a cookbook coming out soon. If you want a sneak peak of the kind of delicious things you can expect when you buy it, check out her new blog!
The Comfort Food Diaries: My Quest for the Perfect Dish To Mend a Broken Heart by Emily Nunn – I am listening to the audio, but I think I would have enjoyed the print version more. In fact, I feel like that’s a theme with foodie books, especially if they have recipes. It’s also possible that this is a busy month full of many expected and also unexpected stressors, and thus the ability to focus that usually helps with reading via audio is just not there. Anyway, I am enjoying the book so far. She’s telling a lot of stories about how her friends and family rallied around her during a rough time and what she ate, so it’s right up my alley.
Equal Exchange chocolates are among my favorites. Support small farmers and get great treats for Halloween. [This is not a paid advertisement; I just really, really love them.] Speaking of great things to support this weekend, our annual Empty Bowls fundraiser is tomorrow. For the price of a ticket, you get all the soup you can eat and get to pick out a handmade bowl crafted by a local artisan. And you can even buy tickets at the door. If you’re local (Denton), go to Harvest House tomorrow any time from 12p-2p, and tell them I wish I was there.
And finally – I’m staying home all day Sunday to recuperate from this week. I’m going to make a big mess of pasta, maybe some soup. Maybe I’ll take a long walk to the library (the branch I go to is almost exactly two miles from me) to pick up the books I have on reserve. Or maybe I’ll just read what I have here and watch more episodes of The Bear. Or more Gilmore Girls, with their diner and their chef and their Friday night dinners. Even the fictional characters I love are obsessed with food.
I hope your weekend is restful and good, and I hope you eat something wonderful.
I didn’t grow up eating out a lot – my family is very much a part of the We-have-food-at-home crowd. When we did go out to eat, it was usually to the local steakhouse or to the place where MeMaw and Granddad (on Mom’s side) were regulars. While I was not about to complain about this occasional treat, there were elements present that would deter me today.
Most of the days we went out to any restaurant, there were so many people. They all seemed to be talking at once. It was so, so loud.
And the LINES.
We waited in line to get a table.
We waited in line for the salad bar (which we always were compelled to get).
We waited in line for the bathroom when we drank too much tea that was refilled before it was even halfway empty (which, admittedly, is great service).
We waited in line to pay.
So. Many. Lines.
Seeing how much Mom relished becoming an unapologetic homebody who spent a lot of time alone outside once she retired makes me wonder if we have some of the same sensory issues in common. I suspect this is the real reason we didn’t spend a lot of time at restaurants, particularly on Sundays when it was sure to be crowded and loud.
When I lived in various apartments during college, my roommates and I went out to eat a lot. It was convenient and still felt special to me. After a while, it just became a habit. I was having fun, and I learned to ignore the overstimulating environments. And by “ignore” I do mean “refuse to make the obvious connection between them and my increase in nervous gastro issues.”
The stay-at-home portion of the pandemic drastically changed my outlook on going out to eat. I really enjoyed not doing it and not having to explain why I didn’t want to hang out at a loud, busy place. I still supported local restaurants – most of the ones I frequent adjusted to offer some curbside or reliable delivery option – but I got to enjoy the delicious food and drink in the quiet of my own space. My favorite was the local cheese shop that delivered wine and cheese pairings. I spent a ridiculous amount of money on wine and cheese in 2020.
After everything started opening back up again, I just kept…not going out. People can choose whether they want to understand (or not, and thus hurt their own feelings by stubbornly refusing to employ the empathy that’s necessary to do so), but I’m not going back to that habitual torture.
I occasionally find myself in a busy restaurant with lots of chatter and intense, competing smells and loud music and all sorts of other stimuli, but it’s back to being a special-occasion situation like it was when I was a kid. I still love going out sometimes, but I much prefer a quiet place where I don’t have to raise my voice to have a conversation. I want good service that is attentive but not hovering (I tip well regardless, but I am over the top about it if they hit this sweet spot). I don’t want a lot of bright or flashing lights. Just…everybody calm down and have a relaxing time.
If I had to choose a last meal, it would probably be fried eggs on top of some type of fried potatoes (and a strawberry shortcake sundae from Braum’s for dessert, but I digress). If I have these two ingredients at home, there is approximately an 86% chance that it is what I will make for dinner any given night or on Saturday morning. It is my favorite comfort food and – if I’m the one cooking – my favorite breakfast.
[If I’m not the one having to make it, Eggs Benedict is my breakfast of choice. Every time. In fact, I change my answer from above. If it’s my last meal, bring on the hollandaise.]
[But also I want hashbrowns on the side because I will be dragging them through that eggy goodness.]
[And I also require the perfect cup of coffee to go with it, but really, doesn’t that go without saying?]
It’s hard for me to pick a favorite breakfast food. I like most of them. I mean, I’m picky about scrambled eggs, but for the most part? There’s hardly anything on most breakfast menus that I just will not eat.
Eggs and potatoes are the stars of the show for just about any breakfast at the farm. It’s one of the meals that reminds me of home. Bacon, sausage, ham, or steak – toast, biscuits, or tortillas – these choices vary. But there are usually eggs and potatoes.
I don’t often make them for brunch, though. If I’m serving a crowd, I want things that stay good for a while and can stand to sit out a little. That is not the case with fried eggs. Brunch is usually waffles or a variety of pastries, savory scones or biscuits, bagels and assorted schmear. Maybe muffins (both sweet and savory). If I make anything egg-based, it’s typically quiche or frittata bites that I take out of the oven just as everyone is arriving.
Of all the parties to host, I enjoy hosting brunch the most. I think it’s because brunch feels like mine – like something that sets apart the home I’ve cultivated over the years. We didn’t often have company for the first meal of the day at the farm, and all my favorite brunch recipes come from times I’ve fed people in the various places I’ve lived since I’ve been in Denton.
I also think it’s one of the meals I am best at making. It’s certainly the one in which I’m most confident.
What is your favorite meal to host? What’s your signature dish when you do?
I would be remiss if I talked about our family holidays without mentioning the staple that still shows up every time we gather to celebrate. We may not have a pie or even a turkey, but we will have canned cranberry sauce.
I really, really love canned cranberry sauce.
And not just because it taps into whatever nostalgia I feel about the holidays, although that’s certainly true, too. I genuinely love it.
This “Ode to Canned Cranberry Sauce” by Malcolm Venable sums up my feelings perfectly. I will always – without fail – choose it over “real” or homemade cranberry sauce. If I’m coming over, don’t try to impress me with your fancy berries. Save yourself the trouble (or focus it on the potatoes or other sides), and just stick to the canned stuff. It is infinitely superior in my mind.
I know we’ve been talking about holidays in the last few posts, but I don’t even wait until the holidays to have it. I almost always have a can in my pantry – just in case the mood strikes – all year long. I did not even have to go to the store to stage the picture for this post (and yes, I did eat this whole display by myself. No regrets.).
When we are making the family holiday grocery list, I always advise doubling the cranberry sauce we think we’re going to need. Because otherwise, will anyone else get any? I am afraid I can’t promise that.
I eat it by itself.
I eat it with almost every bite of turkey or ham (or whatever main dish we have that year).
I eat it with dressing (or stuffing, if you prefer to call it that).
[Also, be prepared for me not to eat the stuffing if you actually stuffed it inside the animal you cooked. It’s not you, it’s me. And my picky judgment of your bad choices. So…I guess it’s a little bit you.]
I have also been known to spoon a dollop of whipped cream on top of some canned cranberry sauce and call it dessert.
LOVE. IT.
I have had actual arguments over the merits of cranberry sauce with extended family members. I don’t know why I bothered. After all, if others present don’t like it – hey, more for me.
Couple the fact that the cranberry is my favorite berry with the consistent texture and perfect tang of the canned, gelled sauce – our love story was destiny. And over the years, I’ve discovered I’m a purist. I’ve tried putting it in things, like mini-trifles with goat cheese and pecans, and I even tried to use it in a cocktail once (one word – don’t). But the way I like it best is just by itself.
M. Suzanne Terry 