Before Julia, salad was a wedge of iceberg lettuce topped with bright orange salad dressing poured on top. Cakes, either chocolate, yellow, or spice came as a mix. Mayonnaise was not something one ‘made’. Onion soup was a brown powder to be mixed with sour cream as a dip for potato chips. Cheese was American, Swiss or cheddar. Seasoning consisted of salt and pepper and perhaps a decorative sprig of curly parsley that was pushed to one side before whatever it was decorating was eaten. Shallots, capers, garlic, leeks, fresh herbs, and olive oil were exotic ingredients found in foreign kitchens.

In 1967, newly married and living across the road from The French Market, in the Georgetown section of Washington, DC, I considered lunch from the French Market a treat. It might be a sandwich on a crusty baguette with rare roast beef, salami, brie, or pate, with butter, or Dijon mustard. Some days I chose an assortment of salads – mushrooms a la Grecque, carrots in mustard vinaigrette with fresh dill, marinated green beans with olives, and potato salad in lemon vinaigrette. I was hooked.

I loved the scent of garlic, lemon rind and parsley that the market’s butcher minced for the lamb roasts he skillfully turned into perfect replicas of duck decoys that waited in the meat case until clever cooks roasted and served them.

Another man prepared escargot. He pushed cooked snails into shells and then filled them with a mixture of sweet butter, garlic, parsley, and ground almonds. I knew I was a foodie, an term that did not exist in 1967, when I bought two metal snail pans, two small forks, and two snail holders, metal tools that looked like eyelash curlers gone wrong. Snails were easier than macaroni and cheese.

Other than snails, I cooked simple dinners, familiar fare – pork or lamb chops, hamburgers, or chicken breasts, boiled, baked or mashed potatoes and frozen corn or green beans. The only cook book I owned was a paperback called Cook Book.

Then, on September 27th, 1967 Julie Child came into my kitchen when a friend gave me Mastering the Art of French Cooking.  Until that moment, I hadn’t occurred to me that I could cook the sort of food that came from the French Market. I began reading and discovered that I had already met the first requirement – I was indeed “servantless”.

I read ‘Mastering’ as if it were a novel, struggling with the weirdness of spelling and pronouncing French words such as pâte à choux and crème pàtissèrie. I discovered that vegetables could be carefully cooked, and sauced, and read about complex desserts with amazing names.

I decided that bifteck hachè à la Lyonnaise would be my first Julia dinner. Yes, I was feeling bold, but after all, its English subtitle was Ground Beef with Onions and Herbs. French hamburgers!

Here’s how I did it.

Bifteck hachè à la Lyonnaise - French Hamburger

I cooked half a cup of diced onions in a tablespoon of butter over medium heat until they were translucent, about ten minutes and then combined them with three quarters of a pound of lean ground beef, a tablespoon of butter, half a teaspoon each of salt and pepper, a pinch of thyme (purchased from the French Market), and one egg. I used a wooden spoon to mix it all together, and then made four patties that I chilled for half an hour.

Carefully following directions, I rolled the patties lightly in flour and dusted off the excess. The floured patties went right into a tablespoon each of butter and oil that had begun to foam in my cast iron skillet. I followed Julia’s directions, cooked the hamburgers for about two minutes on each side and then put them on a platter while I finished the sauce.

It was simple, pour out the fat, add half a cup of liquid and boil rapidly until thickened. The recipe suggested either stock, beef bouillon, red wine, white wine, dry white vermouth, or water.  I used red wine and remembered to scrape the bottom of the pan to dissolve the tasty brown bits into the sauce. Finishing the sauce meant removing the pan from the heat and swirling in two tablespoons of butter that thickened the liquid into a light sauce. With mashed potatoes and green beans waiting at the table, I poured the red wine sauce over the hamburgers and dinner was ready.

Wine sauce – red wine sauce on a hamburger – Who knew that it could be so simple, so tasty, so French?

Download and print cookie recipe with an ingredients list here.

To receive occasional emails from me,  click here and subscribe to the newsletter from Carol’s Kitchen.

I was intrigued, I had never been to Europe, I was living on my own, in my first apartment, hoping to become a sophisticated cook able to make elegant food. She talked about and promised Dutch Soup at every opportunity.

When she finally invited me to dinner, I was shocked. Rather than being served Dutch Soup, she served meatloaf – Meatloaf! She called it DUTCH MEATLOAF – but it was meatloaf. It was tasty and filled with lots of vegetables and unexpected spice but it wasn’t the international delicacy I was hoping for. She shared her recipe and promised that one day she would make Dutch Soup for me.

Julian was a creative and energetic artist and cook. Her pantry was her palette and each meatloaf was an original. It might be an all beef meatloaf, or it might include sausage, ground veal, pork or chicken. Day old bread, crushed crackers or rolled oats might be substituted for breadcrumbs. Once she added grated raw potatoes instead of carrots to the mix and occasionally she slathered the meatloaf with that classic Dutch condiment, Heinz catsup.

I realized that, at least to Julian, everything that was labeled Heinz was Dutch when months after the meatloaf party she relented and invited a group of friends to dinner for Dutch Soup. When we arrived, she opened a couple of bottles of wine, not Dutch, and set out some cheese, Dutch, and crackers, origin unknown, and disappeared into her kitchen. She insisted on privacy in the kitchen while she cooked. In about fifteen minutes, we were called to the table and she proudly served the Dutch soup. It was thick, brownish-greenish-red and had lumps. It was steamy hot and tasted terrible. I had managed to swallow a few spoonfuls and politely asked if she would share the recipe. She was pleased, delighted to be asked and generously explained how to make this Dutch classic.

I will share her recipe with you but only if you promise not to invite me to dinner when you make it or tell anyone where you got the recipe. Here’s how she made it: Into a large pot, it need not be a Dutch oven, dump one can of Heinz Tomato soup, one can of Heinz Split Pea soup, one can of milk, half a can of water, half a can of dry sherry, two cans of cocktail sausages and one large can of vegetables, peas, corn or tomatoes will do. Heat until steaming, serve and try to figure out why she called it Dutch Soup. I never have – figured out its name or made it.

I used Julian’s recipe last Saturday as the centerpiece of a cozy, traditional American supper for two. Here’s how I did it:

Meat Loaf a la Julian

I put one pound of ground chuck and one twenty-ounce package of ground turkey in a large mixing bowl and added half a cup of coarsely grated carrot, one large, minced garlic clove, one large onion, cut in quarter inch dice, one medium red pepper, diced, one medium green pepper, diced, half a cup of loosely packed, chopped parsley, one and a half cups of bread crumbs, half a teaspoon of thyme and one tablespoon of dried dill leaves.

I dissolved one beef bouillon cube in half a cup of hot water and added one tablespoon of Worcestershire sauce, one teaspoon of dried ginger, one tablespoon of grainy mustard, one beaten egg, a quarter of a teaspoon of kosher salt and half a teaspoon of black pepper.

After I had combined the meat, vegetables and seasonings, I formed the mixture into two loaves. I wrapped one in foil and put it into the freezer to be cooked another day. I put the other loaf into the oven that had been preheated to 350º.

In order to be certain that the turkey was cooked, I used an instant read thermometer and declared it ready fifty minutes later, when the internal temperature was 160º.  I cut the meatloaf into thick slices after it had rested under a tent of foil for ten minutes. The high proportion of vegetables in this recipe makes slicing a challenge. Although each serving was more a pile than a slice, Charles and I enjoyed our classic American supper while we watched A Streetcar Named Desire, another American classic.

Julian was a creative and energetic artist and cook. Her pantry was her palette and each meatloaf was an original. It might be an all beef meatloaf, or it might include sausage, ground veal, pork or chicken. Day old bread, crushed crackers or rolled oats might be substituted for breadcrumbs. Once she added grated raw potatoes instead of carrots to the mix and occasionally she slathered the meatloaf with that classic Dutch condiment, Heinz catsup.

Meatloaf List

• Ground Beef
• Ground Turkey
• Carrot
• Garlic
• Onion
• Red Pepper
• Green Pepper
• Parsley
• Bread Crumbs
• Thyme
• Dried Dill Leaves
• Beef Bouillon
• Worcestershire Sauce
• Dried Ginger
• Mustard
• Egg
• Kosher Salt  & Black Pepper

When tenderloins were on sale, I stocked up. I prepared them for roasting by removing the silver skin, a shiny membrane that is attached on one side. I slipped the tip of a sharp paring knife under the silver skin and removed it in long strips. If it is not removed, the silver skin shrinks, becomes tough and makes the tenderloin curl when it is cooked. It took less time to do than to describe and the reward is succulent roast pork without a tough piece of silver skin attached to each slice. I put the trimmed tenderloins into individual re-sealable plastic bags.

The next step was the preparation of the marinade. A marinade is a liquid, similar to a salad dressing, used to flavor and tenderize meat. It is a mixture of an acid – citrus juice, vinegar, or wine; an oil – olive, grape seed, or vegetable; flavorings – herbs, spices, citrus zest, flavored oils; something sweet – brown sugar, honey or maple syrup; something spicy – garlic, ginger, chili, mustard, or horseradish; and, something savory – soy sauce, Worcestershire sauce, or fish sauce. A marinade can be as simple as vinegar, oil, salt and pepper or a complex mixture of many flavors. Measurements need not be precise. Generally I use half as much oil as acid, and no more than two tablespoons of sugar or honey for each 1 cup/240 ml  of liquid. Creating a marinade is fun and an opportunity to experiment. I taste as I go and keep notes, the possibilities are endless. I’ve found that it takes about 1/3 cup/80 ml of marinade for 1 pound/500 gr of meat.

I create marinades with combinations of ingredients that suggest particular cuisines. I have used white wine, olive oil, thyme and parsley when I wanted something that tasted French. When I was wishing I were in Morocco, I mixed pomegranate molasses, orange juice, cinnamon and grape seed oil. Vietnam came to mind when I used lemon grass, fish sauce, lime juice and green chilies. The tenderloin I took to the party had been seasoned with a bold, spicy Korean marinade. Here’s how I made it:

Korean Marinade

I mixed together 1/3 cup/ 80 ml of soy sauce, three tablespoons of red wine vinegar, one tablespoon of brown sugar, one tablespoon of honey, two tablespoons of grated fresh ginger, one tablespoon of dark sesame oil, half a teaspoon of crushed red pepper flakes and one tablespoon of minced garlic. I stirred the marinade until the sugar and honey were completely dissolved.

I poured the marinade over the tenderloin in the plastic bag, massaged the marinade into the tenderloin through the bag, sealed the bag, labeled it and put it into the freezer.

The night before the party, I took a tenderloin out of the freezer and put it into the fridge so that it would thaw and absorb the flavors of the marinade.

As soon as we got to our friends’ house, I asked the host to turn on the oven to 425º F/ 220º C. I poured the marinade into a small saucepan, dried the tenderloin with a paper towel and put it into a shallow, ceramic baking dish. After eighteen minutes in the pre-heated oven, the internal temperature of the tenderloin was 140ºF/60ºC. I took it out of the oven and I covered it with foil so that it could rest for five minutes before I sliced it. A five-minute rest allows the juices to be re-absorbed by the meat and results in juicy slices rather than dry ones. To add more flavor I made a sauce with the reserved marinade. I brought it to a boil it in a small saucepan, reduced the heat and simmered it for three minutes before I poured it over the thinly sliced meat.

Pork is one of the leanest cuts of meat, nearly as low in saturated fat as chicken breasts, and its mild flavor means that it can be seasoned to suit your palate and menu. Whenever you marinate meat there are a few important points to keep in mind. The marinade should totally cover the meat. The meat should marinade in the fridge not on the kitchen counter, in a non-metal container, either glass, ceramic, plastic or food grade plastic bags that can be sealed. Marinade that has been in contact with raw meat must be boiled and then simmered for at least three minutes if it is reused as a sauce. Marinating meat tenderizes it and may shorten the cooking time. Use a meat thermometer to determine cooking time. The magic temperature for safe pork is 137ºF/59º C.

I’ve posted a Pork Roasting Chart. To print it – Go to the PIN – Print It Now Page listed in the left hand column under the blog title and down load it.

Korean Marinade List

• soy sauce
• red wine vinegar
• brown sugar
• honey
• fresh ginger
• dark sesame oil
• crushed red pepper flakes
• garlic

With preserved lemons and a combination of spices that would added flavor, a bit of heat and the warm glow of Morocco, I had all I needed. Here’s how I did it:

Cbicken Tagine

I rinsed and dried one three pound chicken that had been cut into eight pieces and put it into a large, plastic bag along with two teaspoons of paprika, one teaspoon of ground cumin, one teaspoon of turmeric, half a teaspoon of cinnamon, half a teaspoon of ground pepper  and a teaspoon of kosher salt and two tablspoons of grape seed oil. I closed the bag and massaged the spices and oil into the chicken.

After the chicken had bathed in the spice oil mixture for an hour, it took about eight minutes to brown the chicken pieces in two tablespoons of grape seed oil in a cast iron skillet.  I did this in two batches and transferred the browned chicken to a plate.

While the chicken browned I diced two medium onions and one red bell pepper, rough chopped half a cup of green olives, rinsed and sliced half a preserved lemon and  minced three cloves of garlic.  I sauteed the onions and red pepper along with a pinch of salt for about eight minutes before I added the olives, lemon and garlic and then sauteed for about three more minutes before added half a cup of water and  the chicken and the juice that had accumulated to the pan.

I topped the chicken with five stalks of fresh cilantro and five stalks of flat leaf parsley, covered the pan, reduced the heat and simmered the mixture for about thirty minutes.

I put two tablespoons of honey, a cinnamon stick, one and a half cups of water and half a cup of dried apricots, diced, into a small sauce pan and simmered the  mixture, uncovered, until the apricots were tender and the liquid had reduced to a glaze.  I discarded the cinnamon stick, added the apricots and glaze to the chicken for the last ten minutes of cooking. I removed the wilted cilantro and parsley and served the chicken with brown rice and a green salad.

I  was able to attend two evening meetings, see a funny play and serve three hearty dinners for two with a minimum of kitchen time.

This recipe can be the beginning of a traditional North African Dinner party if you serve it on a bed of couscous and accompany it with spicy harissa sauce.

To receive an email notification of my next post, click here and subscribe to the newsletter from Carol’s Kitchen.

Moroccan Chicken Tagine List

• 1 3-pound chicken
• 2 t paprika
• 1 t  ground cumin
• 1 t turmeric
• 1/2 t cinnamon
• 1/2 t ground pepper
• 1 t kosher salt
• 2 T grape seed oil
• 5 stalks fresh cilantro
• 5 stalks flat leaf parsley
• 2 T honey
• 1 cinnamon stick
• 1/2 c dried apricots

They were married in the Borgia del Casale, on the Piazza Duomo, in Ortigia and guests were given a cookbook filled with their favorite recipes. This fresco is on the ceiling of the room were dinner was served.

Here is a sample page. 

To receive an email notification of my next post, click here and subscribe to the newsletter from Carol’s Kitchen. Note: There is a print link embedded within this post, please visit this post to print it.

The plan was to celebrate the Fourth at a potluck picnic with friends. Having run out of time, I decided to ‘cheat ‘ by doctoring canned baked beans. At the grocery store, I picked up a rack of spare ribs and and small head of cabbage along with the beans in case the picnic was the victim of yet another downpour. I got ready while the beans where baking, (heating) in the oven. You don’t need a recipe to doctor canned beans but here’s how I did it:

Baked Beans

In a baking dish, I combined two varieties of baked beans, a can of drained and rinsed kidney beans, a heaping tablespoon of grainy mustard, a good dose of hot sauce and a medium onion, chopped. I put it all into the oven at three hundred and fifty degrees while I got ready for the picnic.

The beans were ready, I was ready and then Charles wrenched his back and headed for the pain meds and a hot bath. I called our friends to express regret and then I headed into the kitchen to pull together an easy, quick (at least in prep time), dinner of spare ribs, baked beans and coleslaw.

A meal that says summertime, picnid and fire works.

Never mind that it was raining, AGAIN, cold enough to need a woolly sweater and the fireworks will probably be cancelled.

Baked Spareribs

I put the ribs on a rack in a baking dish lined with aluminum foil, tented them with more foil and baked for an hour at three 350 degrees. Then, I removed the foil, and used a silicon basting brush to apply a layer of barbecue sauce, (right from the bottle), to the ribs. I baked the ribs for another forty-five minuets, adding more barbeque sauce every fifteen minutes.

On to the coleslaw while the ribs cooked.

Coleslaw

I transformed half a small head of cabbage into fine shreds, combined it with a tablespoon of kosher salt and left it to wilt and soften. After half an hour, I rinsed the cabbage with lots of cold water and then squeezed it to get it as dry as possible.

In the bottom of a serving bowl, I made a dressing consisting of half a cup of mayo, a teaspoon of red wine vinegar, a big pinch of sugar, one shredded carrot, and a teaspoon of celery seeds, added the cabbage; stirred it up – done!

Dinner was picnic worthy.  The ribs were tender, tasty, not greasy; the beans had the right amount of zip and the coleslaw added a fresh kick.

This was not a fussy meal made with loads of planning, preparation and fancy techniques; but just right for a ‘last minute, sore back, rainy night with no fire works expected’ dinner at home.

Happy Independence Day!

To receive an email notification of my next post, click here and subscribe to the newsletter from Carol’s Kitchen. Note: There is a print link embedded within this post, please visit this post to print it.

I decided that the menu would be lamb burgers, hummus, yogurt, butternut squash and pita bread.  Here’s how I made it. [/donot print]

Lamb Burgers

I heated one tablespoon of olive oil in a frying pan and added one diced, medium onion, two cloves of minced garlic, a pinch of red pepper flakes and put it on to saute.  While that was cooking, I hydrated three sun dried tomatoes in a half a cup of boiling water, chopped eight calamata olives, and then drained and chopped the tomatoes. When the onions were translucent, I took the pan off the heat and added the tomatoes and olives along with a pinch dried rosemary and half a teaspoon of ground cumin.

When this mixture had cooled, I combined it with three quarters of a pound of ground lamb, shaped the meat into four patties and reused the frying pan, I had cooked the onions in, to cook the burgers. I find that olives make additional salt unnecessary.

The multi-national, Middle Eastern theme with squash seasoned with cardamom – inspired by a recipe for pumpkin from Afghanistan, hummus – perhaps the glue that could hold this part of the world together, yogurt cheese, sliced cucumbers and toasted pita bread.

Yogurt cheese and hummus are both subjects of earlier posts.

To receive an email notification of my next post, click here and subscribe to the newsletter from Carol’s Kitchen. Note: There is a print link embedded within this post, please visit this post to print it.