Food for Thoughts

Jeanne, tell us what you know about edible flowers. I took this photo outside Peter's Market at the Weston Center. Just wondering if any of it is edible. Soups, salads, muffins? What can you tell us?

Granola Cruncher vs. Cap'n Cruncher

Guy Fieri makes a mean Cap'n Crunch French Toast, but I lean toward Granola Crunch French Toast. It's not as tooth achingly sweet as the Cap'n Crunch version. But I like my sweets on the not-so-sweet side.

Got the recipe when I was a food editor at Better Homes and Gardens magazine for a story about the food at Timberline Lodge in Oregon. Chef Leif Benson, who oversees the restaurants at the lodge, shared the crunchy French toast recipe from the menu.

Slices of of baguette get dipped into an egg mixture laced with cinnamon, vanilla, and orange peel. The top side is covered in granola and cooked til toasty-crispy-warm. Drizzle it all with a Cinnamon-Yogurt sauce. Add a cup of hot chocolate and enjoy the view of Mt. Hood from the picture window in your mind.

Here's Chef Benson's Granola French Toast recipe that appeared in Better Homes and Gardens magazine several years ago.
Granola French Toast Recipe

A Great Guy

I thought I was wild and crazy about food and football, but I've met my match in Guy Fieri, the chef, restaurant owner and hot-cha-cha TV personality of the Food Network show "Diners, Drive-Ins & Dives."

Guy is just back at his Northern California home from a lei-over in Honolulu, where he did cooking demos for 1,200 troops (he is pro-soldier to the core) at Pearl Harbor. After wheeling his son to school, he fielded my call from Dallas, and he was extremely generous with his time, talking about who quarterbacks his team, the fried butter at the State Fair of Texas, Eli Manning taking his front line to the Kentucky Derby, his upcoming book "More Diners, Drive-Ins & Dives" (set for release Nov. 3; please pardon the screenshot) and his groundbreaking 21-city "foodapalooza" tour Guy Fieri Roadshow. It's 21 cities in 30 days, complete with what sounds like the world's biggest margarita machine - able to churn 25,000 servings in 4 minutes. His passion and fire shoot right through the phone - he credits his family, buddies and his pro team for making it all come together. Love that Guy!

Guy's first book, "Diners, Drive-Ins & Dives," a New York Times bestseller, started at 40,000 copies and has topped 400,000. I tell you this because if "More Diners" is anything like the first, grab it for the behind-the-curtain stories from his "Kulinary Krew," new leads on more Triple Ds across America and more jaw-dropping recipes.

Why should we care? Because spotlights on small businesses help us preserve what is good in this country, built with tradition and sweat and family values in the face of mass marketed, corporately commonplace chains. I could chew on this topic, but I'd rather go follow his lead to Twisted Root Burger, a place I've never heard of in Dallas. Just so you know, Guy doesn't pick the locations for the Triple D show, but he vets the food, characters and stories, and his research team is on site more than an ESPN College GameDay crew.

Here's a recipe from Guy's first book that had me running to the cereal aisle. The results, in my non-chef professional opinion, were off the plate!

Cap'n Crunch French Toast
(adapted from a recipe courtesy of Blue Moon Cafe)

4 to 5 Servings

3/4 cup heavy cream
3 large eggs, lightly beaten
2 tablespoons sugar
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
3 cups Cap'n Crunch cereal
8 to 10 slices bread, such as Texas toast or French bread
Butter for cooking

Topping
1 cup heavy cream
2 tablespoons confectioners' sugar
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
2 cups assorted fresh seasonal berries

1. Mix the cream, eggs, sugar, and vanilla in a large bowl and whisk until combined.
2. Put the cereal in a storage bag and use a rolling pin to crush cereal until it resembles cracker meal. Transfer the cereal to a shallow dish.
3. Dip a couple of slices of the bread into the cream mixture until soft but not completely soaked. Let excess liquid drip from the bread, then press into the cereal crumbs to coat evenly. Place on a sheet pan and repeat with the remaining slices.
4. Heat a large skillet or griddle over medium heat, add butter as needed, and cook the bread until caramelized on both sides, about 6 to 8 minutes total.
5. For the whipped cream topping: Beat the cream, confectioners' sugar, and vanilla in a large bowl with a hand mixer to soft peaks. Dollop on top of the French toast and serve with the berries.

(reprinted with permission from "Diners, Drive-Ins, & Dives: An All American Road Trip with Recipes, William Morrow, 2008)

For tailgating, I like the Black Bean Hummus. See page 92.

May the road rise to meet you, Guy. Keep putting the "badda" in the badda-bing.

Fooding Around

The Tuba Guys have come and gone, and there is that hollow "after the dance" feeling about the place. They came, they chowed on Tex-Mex, Frito Pie and pulled pork, also snow cones, State Fair ice cream, Kellogg's cereal packs and miles of soda. The weather must have been beautiful in Dallas; they all had red necks from the Texas-OU game.

Meanwhile up in Manhattan, my NYU frosh thought we should check out Mexicana Mama Centro in Greenwich Village. Our first surprise came with the salsa, which looked like queso to these Texas women and therefore, a kitchen slip-up. Our mistake, as it turned out. The dish was not melted Kraft but a smooth sauce that took its color from habanero peppers, the king of heavyweight on the pepper scale. It was spiky and flavorful, hot but not burning, and passed the real test - worth carrying back to the dorm. My burrito, expertly chopped into small portions that looked like spring rolls, was also a pleasure. My daughter dispatched the queso flameado - melted cheese covered with chorizo and held her thumb toward heaven for the fresh pico de gallo, better than many we've had in Dallas. This is a cash-only place, and visiting moms do like to use the credit card as much as possible, saving the dinero for street fare like fresh fruit crepes and emergency cab rides in a nor'easter, but we managed the cash flow. This was one of those times when I just wanted to sit and savor the moment with my girl, not get into judging the food, service and ambience, so I didn't do the Ruth Reichl due diligence and focus too much on how everything worked. I just lived and listened.

Speaking of Ms. Reichl, her former home base New York Times had a nice interview with her in the Sunday magazine. Warm your coffee and take a moment to read it.

I'd like to tell you about the dinner at a certain scenic spot in Weston, Conn., for my high school reunion, but the report would not be sumptuous. If you can't say something nice, it's better to say nothing, and that's where I leave it (though the outside waterfall and the inside fireplace are still cozy attractions. The staff was very accommodating: They gave me a broom so I could sweep the floor before guests arrived. I don't mean this in a disparaging way, um, but the floor should be free of M&Ms, straw papers and Chex Mix before I enter a room.)

At the reunion I re-met Craig Jervis, a former classmate whose restaurant in Nashville The Mad Platter has me thinking about dropping in when I drive through on the way to Knoxville (for Homecoming at my alma mater, the University of Tennessee, where band director Gary Sousa is also from my home town in Weston, Conn. But I digress.) Craig and I talked about how he got his start in the eat, drink and be merry biz, something about his doing the meals for rock 'n roll bands including The Stones and Michael Jackson. He's devoted 20 years to The Mad Platter and the type of restaurant he wants it to be. I wish him well in his endeavors. Keep swinging, Craig. Let's learn how to throw pizza dough together.

All too soon it was back to Dallas, where I had a strong craving for Taco Joint. The two guys who run it, Austin transplant Corey McCauley and long-established Chuy’s Mexican restaurant alum Jeffrey Kowitz, offer Dallas’ best basic breakfast-and-lunch tacos and burritos (not open for dinner). These guys have that wonderful ability to serve good food at a reasonable price using outstanding customer service. Guy Fieri and the Food Network, are you hearing me? The tacos are money. Get Taco Joint on your map. It's not a diner, drive-in or dive, but it has all the elements of those places that give them their loyal customer base.

Pounding the streets of New York will take the stuffing right out of you, and the "State Fair" plate at Taco Joint is the stuff you need to get back in the game.

Stella and Squash Chili

Mama Mia! I took that Devil May Care Chili recipe of yours and tweaked it to suit my pantry.

Because my garden exploded with butternut squash this year, I'm using it everywhere. My favorite is still roasted chunks o' squash, parsnips, carrots, and onions with a little olive oil and sea salt...and fresh rosemary, if I've got it.

But last night was a chili kinda nite. So I added lotsa squash and eliminated the ground beef. I started with a spicy chili-flavored olive oil too. And I sprinkled in some smoked hot paprika because I love its smokiness. But mostly I love to stick my nose in the paprika tin and breathe in the smoky aroma.

Oh, and I used Stella Artois beer because I had some bottles of it left from Gentleman Caller's visit. It's one of his brands of choice. And since I'm not a beer drinker, why not cook with it? Besides the name whisks me away to that classic movie, "Streetcar Named Desire" and the scene with Marlon Brando at the bottom of the staircase: "Stella!" Ever the romantic, all I need is a bottle of beer used in a chili recipe to send me into a heart-throbbing swoon.

Stella and Squash Chili

2 tablespoons chili-flavored olive oil
1 cup chopped onion (about 1 large)
3 cloves garlic, minced
2 teaspoons chili powder
1 teaspoon hot smoked paprika (if you don't have any, just use 3 teaspoons chili powder)
1 teaspoon ground cumin
3 cups chunks of butternut squash, fresh or frozen
1 28-ounce can of tomatoes
2 19-ounce cans navy and/or pinto (rinsed and drained)
1 12-ounce can of beer, like Stella Artois or whatever's in the fridge
1 8-ounce can tomato sauce
1 cup water
1 teaspoon salt

Lime sour cream
1/2 cup sour cream
1/2 teaspoon lime zest
2 tablespoons fresh lime juice

Optional Toppings
Grated sharp cheddar cheese
Chopped red onion
Snipped cilantro

1. In a big ol' pot, heat oil and cook onion, garlic, chili powder, paprika, and cumin over medium heat until onion is tender. Stir in the squash,undrained tomatoes, beans, beer, tomato sauce, water, and salt. Bring to boil, then reduce heat. Simmer, covered, for 45 minutes to 1 hour.

2. Meanwhile, make Lime Sour Cream by combining sour cream, lime zest, and juice.

3. Serve chili with a dollop of Lime Sour Cream. Pile on additional toppings of your choice. Or take Mama Mia's suggestion of serving the chili over a handful of Fritos.

Home Sweet Home

The tuba guys from Tennessee arrive in 2 days to share in the madcap milieu that is Texas-OU Weekend, so now it's time to marshal those "do ahead" recipes that are the lifesaver of pearl-wearing moms everywhere.

I wouldn't think of opening the front door without a big supply of chili, barbecue, queso, cold drinks, salty chips and bacon standing by. When my Young Prince and his friends march in, there'll be a new batch of what I call "Ooey Gooeys," my son's favorite sweet treat. Every kid has one, and this "bar type" confection is Hunter's. I use the recipe from Bon Appetit, called "Chocolate Caramel Oat Squares," a name which accurately describes the thing but fails to capture the rich, chewy, ooeeness of this little gem. What's not to love when you introduce chocolate to caramel and throw them on a buttery brown sugar and oatmeal bed? This is a Tailgate Treasure.

A word here about recipe permissions: Jeanne and I have publishing backgrounds, so we always strive to respect the creative intellectual property of others - that is - we publish recipes here that belong to us, we've received permission to use or are available to you online via links to sites we trust. The actual brown sugar crusted, sticky, chocolaty recipe in my July 1992 Bon Appetit is not available as of this writing (what I'm saying is, the pages are stuck together, even if I DID have permission to use the recipe). But I've located virtually the same approach for Ooey Goeys on Cooks.com.

Get to know this crowd-pleaser. It stores brilliantly in the fridge or freezer and travels well if you keep it out of El Sol - it really goos out if you make this misstep.

I carried a box of Gooeys up to Tennessee (do not confuse them with Goo Goo Clusters, available in every Cracker Barrel wherever you roam) one Saturday in the fall and handed them off to my son, to take to the band hall. What a joy it was to walk into a rehearsal room and have the tubas spontaneously shout "Thank you, Mrs. Mamma Mia," in that delicious, obsequious Eddy Haskell tone. Seriously, they polished them off.

This is the treat that mysteriously vanishes the moment you make it known you've got some. My mother had a culprit she used to blame in these occasions. She called these nameless brigands the "Poco Pico Mites." I'm already suspecting these snatchers are circling the kitchen, and the guys aren't even across the state line yet.

Snowflowers

October 10 and we have our first snowfall. But when it lands lightly on top of the flowers in a flaunty fashion, who can complain? And the snow dusting the red-gold-yellow leaves on the trees--stunning.
I don't think the butterflies will be visiting this butterfly bush again this season tho.
Debating whether to pull on my warm, toasty clothes and go out for a run...or stay inside and make apple crisp. Run first and then crisp? Fine. Fine.

Am toting the crisp to a friend's 70th birthday party. A surprise. If I run, then I can skip the moderation rule tonight, right?

Went to the Des Moines Farmers Market in a snowstorm this morning scouting for apples and bittersweet (for a photo shoot). Good news: no crowds to fight. Bad news: few farmers braved the weather so pickin's were slim. But I bought a peck of Jonathon's and Cortland's (were they Cortlands?) One tart. One sweet. I'll mix 'em up in the crisp.

Here's the recipe I'm trying, thanks to Ina Garten. Ina combines lemon zest and juice with orange zest and juice to toss with the apples. The reviews say it is too lemony and I'm not a big fan of orange zest, so I'm ditching the orange zest and juice and opting for fresh squeezed lemon juice and no lemon zest.

Do I really have to run? I suppose since I'm in training for Race for the Cure in a couple of weeks, I ought to get another run in this week. Here I go. (The sun is shining and the snow is almost all melted now.)

Feeling Devil May Care

Three young men are coming to La Casa Dulce for the rowdy slugfest that is Texas-OU Weekend in Dallas, or as my Sooner buddies remind me, OU-Texas Weekend. (Please note my little devil in the photo is wearing Sooner Red, not burnt orange. This is a Longhorn household.)

Three college men, to be exact. My son, plus two of his guarda from the "Pride of the Southland Marching Band" at Tennessee. That means they will be hungry, thirsty and stopping at Whataburger on the way to the house. I have one week to prepare for them before I do as the horserati in Louisville do for Derby Week - they skiddoo. How shall I begin my mad, feverish stocking of the fridge?

With chili, baby. This is Texas, and that means get the grill going, crush the onions and shout "Ole!" as you douse the pot with big heat - splashes of fiery red peppers. Jeanne and I teamed up years ago to create a great "pot of red," and that's where I'll start for my Texas-OU victuals. They COULD get chili at the State Fair of Texas, where the annual gridiron clash is in the Cotton Bowl, but not like this - and no fried food was used in the preparation of this dish.

Chili for Three Young Men

3 cloves garlic, minced
1 cup chopped onion (about 1 large)
3 tablespoons cooking oil
2 14 1/2-ounce cans tomatoes
1 12-ounce can of beer, like Shiner
1 cup water
1 8-ounce can tomato sauce
3 teaspoons chili powder
1 teaspoon toasted cumin seed*
1 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon sugar
2 19-ounce cans cannellini or white kidney beans
1/ 1/2 cups chopped squash, fresh or frozen
1/2 teaspoon dried, crushed chipotle chili peppers, or a little adobe sauce from the canned peppers (for added heat; this is OPTIONAL)
4 patties of ground beef, which has been grilled

Topping:
1/2 cup sour cream
2 tablespoons fresh lime juice
1 tablespoon chopped fresh parsley, cilantro or chives

1. In a 4-quart pot, heat oil and cook garlic and onion over medium heat until tender. Stir in the undrained tomatoes, beer, water, tomato sauce, chili powder, cumin, salt, sugar and beans. Bring to boil, then reduce heat.

2. Stir in squash. Simmer, uncovered, for 1 hour or more (to intensify flavor). If the mixture is too tame, add a little dried chipotle pepper or adobe sauce, but go slow. Once the heat is in, there's not much you can do to reduce it, so be careful when adding peppers or adobe sauce; a little goes a long way.)

3. While the pot of red is doing its deviltry, go outside and grill the ground beef as you listen to "March Grandioso". When the meat is grilled, bring inside and stir into the pot. This will give your chili a smoky flavor.

*To toast cumin seed, place seeds in a skillet over low heat. Cook, stirring often, until seeds begin to brown, about 8 minutes. Avoid overcooking seeds, which can make them bitter. Remove from heat, grind a little with a mortar and pestle, and toss into the pot. No mortar, no pestle? Just say a few incantations over them like "strawberry shortcake, gooseberry pie, V-I-C-T-O-R-Y!" and throw them into the pot.

Topping:

Mix together the sour cream, the lime juice and a fresh herb such as parsley, cilantro or chives.

Serving:

Give the guys a bag of Fritos, and let the chips fall where they may. They can fill their bowls with chips, add their chili, then the topping, and toss on a few chopped siders, like fresh tomatoes, chives, cilantro, green onions, what have you.

If age is not an issue, leave them some Shiner or Hefferveisen.

One dish down, queso to go!

Apple Cake and Capt. Morgan

If you've been following this blog, you'll have figured out that Gentleman Caller has come and gone. But I will update you because I wrote the following, the morning of his arrival. By the time I took a photo to match the topic, it was time to dash to the airport. Didn't get the photo or the blog loaded up. Here it is now.

This is it.
Gentleman Caller arrives in a few hours.
It's 8 a.m. I've decided to greet him with a little aromatherapy. So I am making Emeril's Apple Coffee Cake with Crumble Topping and Brown Sugar Glaze. Just as I'm stirring the apples into the batter, the phone rings. It's from one of my clients for whom I've just finished a major project. Or I thought I'd finished. Turns out he needs the files again. And he needs them NOW. Now. Now. NOW.

What the font? Gentleman Caller arrives in about 5 hours. I need to primp and fuss and bake. Who has time for work? There's baking to be done.

I decide to pop the cake into the oven and then hop onto my computer to assuage the client by sending him a massive file folder that should keep him busy the rest of the day. Phew. Only took 15 minutes. I saunter to the oven and take a peek at the cake.

Drat! I've pulled a Julia.

In my haste to get the cake baking before turning to my freelance work, I forgot to add the crumb topping. I yank the half-baked cake out of the oven and throw together brown sugar, flour, and butter—which I've hastily softened in the microwave. I fling the crumbles over the hot cake and shove it all back in the oven.

At this point, I've decided to call upon Capt. Morgan. I know, it's only 8ish in the morning. But still. The baked apple cake gets a brown sugar glaze on top, so—says I—why not replace the water with spiced rum? Yum. Rum.
(I also tinkered with the cake batter too by cutting out 1/2 cup of the brown sugar and adding 1/2 teaspoon grated fresh ginger because I'm in love with ginger these days.)

The Apple Cake is out of the oven. It's drizzled with the giddy glaze.

The house smells great.

I must stop channeling Julia Child. But. Lah-de-dah. It looks good and if it doesn't work I'll add a nice soft plop of freshly whipped cream.

(Note after tasting: Great when warm. Not very exciting the next day, even when warmed up. It doesn't make my MUST-KEEP recipe list.)

Miss Daisy Jones

Jeanne, remember my idea that old recipes could be a form of food genealogy? Follow the recipes and you might find a time machine to the past? Stuffed in old cookbooks or notebooks, you might locate actual notes about family history?

Recently I found a recipe in my stash that came from my grandmother, Daisy. Many times I scoured her house, looking for clues to her past. I found them, too, in the form of a stack of letters written between Daisy and my future grandfather, Curtis. In the 1920s, if you were in love and not living in the same state, you waited for the trains to bring your messages of love, marriage and new cars with closed carriages. Daisy had saved many letters between herself and Curtis, as well as those from her parents (who were divorced, scandalous!) and her closest friends. I'll share a piece of one of those letters because it transports us to another time and feeling - and that is what food can do, given the chance. Daisy wrote to Curtis on Aug. 2, 1927, the following:

Mother brought me some huge elberta peaches from her tree. She is lamenting the fact that I don’t have some peach preserves she made just before she left Vernon.

Picnics! Aren’t they fun? Let’s do have some more steak fries. I have a longhandled frying pan with a “cool” handle that would just love to go a-picnicking up in the hills. You have to promise to clean it, though; because they’re awfully messy, frying pans are, when they are not kept clean. I like the little picnics best. The kind that one prepares for by standing over a hot stove, frying chickens, baking cakes and pies and spending hours making countless sandwiches. No, I’m not such a great enthusiast for those, because part of the picnickers are tired and cross, with reason, before they have a chance to start.

Tired as we were, we dropped into the funny little Crazy Theater last night to see Lillian Gish in “The Scarlet Letter.” There was a vaudeville bill but we didn’t stay for it. I was too sleepy. The night before in the Pullman, I’d had intermittent rounds with an intrusive mosquito that disturbed my otherwise rough train slumbers, at frequent intervals. I suppose you’ve gathered that I hadn’t such a pleasant trip down? I didn’t. But from now on – oh this is fine! It’s worth it too.

You should get this (letter) Friday. I’ll not be writing letters to you longer than a week more, will I? You’re going to like Texas. Crops seem fine, breezes blow, sun shines, life swings high-low for some, and just drowsily in between for others. For us – but that will soon be here, won’t it?"


Now here's the scrap of recipe that stirs up my memory of Daisy. It's written in that run-on style that was popular in yesteryear.

Hello Dolly

1 stick margarine
1 cup graham cracker crumbs
1 cup coconut
1 cup chocolate bits
1 cup butterscotch bits
1 cup chopped pecans
1 can Eagle brand

In a 9-inch square pan, melt a stick of margarine; then add a cup of graham cracker crumbs. Don't stir - just sprinkle the crumbs on top of the margarine smoothly; then a cup of coconut, spread on top of that; and on top of that spread a cup of chocolate bits (Nestle's - half of a large package or 1 small package) then a layer of butterscotch, a layer of chopped pecans; then open a can of Eagle Brand condensed milk (NOT evaporated milk, but condensed milk), and pour it smoothly over the top of the pecans. Cook at 350 degrees for 30 minutes. Remove from oven and cool on a rack until room temperature. Cut in 1-inch squares. This is VERY rich and oh so good!

Daisy was the first to teach me all about bread, but that's another story.