In honor of the ever-controversial Columbus Day (no longer observed even here at Columbia University) I decided to whip up something Pre-Columbian from Spirit of the Earth, a collection of traditional Mesoamerican and South American recipes (with some awesome bits of history from archaeologist Michael Coe). It’s Monday and I had yoga this evening, so I had neither time nor energy to do serious feast day food like tamales or mole. I did, however, turn up a nice egg recipe in the Aztec section of my book. I love eggs so much that I generally only eat egg whites: otherwise my cholesterol levels would be higher than a Woodstock attendee. Even greater than my love for eggs themselves, though, is the joy I take in the mild transgression of eating breakfast food for dinner. This adapted recipe for Eggs Veracruz (which come out in semi-omelet form) came out so spicy and tasty I’m tempted to give up on real dinner food altogether.
Eggs Veracruz (Serves 4)
2-3 Jalapeno peppers, roasted over open flame until charred on the outside
3 Roma tomatoes, roasted over open flame until charred on the outside
2 cloves garlic
1 white onion
1 c. canned nopales (cactus)
8 eggs, lightly whipped with a fork
1/4 c. water
2 tbsp. chopped cilantro
Salt and pepper
Oil for pans
1. Puree the roasted peppers and tomatoes in a food processor with the garlic and onion. Fry the mixture over medium-high heat for about 5 minutes, stirring constantly, until the garlic and onion lose their sharpness. Salt and pepper to taste, add the nopales, and set aside.
2. Cook the eggs over medium heat in a large non-stick skillet until they begin to set; gather them in the center of the pan with a spatula.
3. Pour the sauce and cactus in around the edge of the pan and use the spatula to drag some of the sauce across the eggs to distribute it.
4. Add the water, lower the heat, and simmer for 8-10 minutes until most of the water is evaporated and the eggs and sauce have begun to set together.
5. Turn the eggs out onto a plate, sprinkle with cilantro, and serve with warm corn tortillas.
“In September and October the household returns to normal after the holidays. Apples and pears will be gathered and stored carefully, winter clothes and bedding got out, summer things washed and put away. This is the time for lagging of pipes and draughtproofing of windows and generally making the house snug for the winter.” – Mrs. Beeton
Two things about this passage struck me: 1) the concern for energy efficiency, 2) the idea of changing your household routine with the seasons. I live in a New York apartment with zero storage and spend all winter beset by overheated radiators and huge drafty windows. I tend to try to transition my wardrobe and bedding between seasons by layering, and there’s not much I can do about the windows and heating without calling my super. Perhaps, though, I’ll try my hand in the coming weeks at some easily storageable apple byproducts. Mrs. Beeton has assorted recipes for pickles, hard cider, and homemade wine…
I was on a roll this morning after Blog Post #1, so I hunted around my books for something suitable. In The Southern Cookbook I found a recipe for a “Rum Omelet” – basically, you make an omelet and flambe it in rum. I don’t have any rum in the house, but I do have copious amounts of bourbon; I make egg white and cheddar omelets for breakfast most mornings, so I figured I’d douse it in whiskey and give it a go…
BAD IDEA. First, the flames on the omelet plate didn’t really seem to take: there were a few flickers, then nothing visible. When I poured some extra bourbon off to see if less liquid would help, I suddenly wound up with flames – in the sink! This wasn’t an issue since my small kitchen fire was right under a water source, but I still had a boozy omelet on my hands. It still wouldn’t light properly, so I ditched the rest of the liquor and just had a slightly bourbon-soaked omelet with ketchup. Not too bad, actually…except for the fact that raw liquor for breakfast has a tendency to make one a liiiittle tipsy…
I’ve been casting around for a recipe suitable for a “first post.” Should I start with a something outrageously kitschy? Resurrect a glorious culinary gem? I eventually thought: what’s more vintage than my grandma’s recipe box? If I’m going to be exploring culinary history, I might as well start by exploring my own. So, my first post is a tribute to my Grandma Viv: Rugelach.
This tribute is not as literal as it could be. I mostly remember my father’s mother making rugelach very simply, from leftover pie dough and cinnamon sugar. With her in mind, though, I’ve cobbled together the following: Joy of Cooking dough (pretty vintage itself), one recipe with a more traditional filling (raspberry jam, cinnamon sugar, shaved chocolate) and one with an original filling (peach jam and candied ginger – I call this “original” but my dad and grandpa would probably condemn it as “goyische”).
I’ve cobbled together a couple of old recipes, and added a new twist. For me, though, “vintage” isn’t just about the publication date of a book: it encompasses old world feelings and traditions, apron-wearing, seafoam green, new wonder at the usefulness of a Kitchenaid mixer. For me, rugelach carry all that and more. So, for my Grandma, for Mrs. Rombauer, and for Bubbes everywhere…
Two Kinds of Rugelach (Makes 24-30)
For dough:
6 oz. cream cheese, softened
2 sticks unsalted butter, softened
2 1/4 c. flour
For filling:
Peach jam or seedless raspberry jam
Cinnamon sugar
Candied ginger, chopped OR bittersweet chocolate, grated
1. Mix the cream cheese and butter until fluffy and well combined (about 20-30 seconds on medium-high in a stand mixer).
2. Add all the flour at once and mix on slow until it forms a solid mass with the butter and cheese. Turn this mass out onto a floured surface and knead it about half a dozen times, until there are no large chunks of butter or cream cheese visible in the dough.
3. Separate the dough into 3 parts and pat these sections into discs about 1 inch thick. Cover the discs in plastic wrap and refrigerate for at least an hour.
4. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.
5. Remove one disc of dough from the fridge and roll it out on a floured surface to 1/8-inch thick circle. Cut the circle into 8 or 10 pie-shaped wedges, keeping these wedges together in their original circle.
6. Spread about 1/4 c. of the jam of your choice on the round of dough, avoiding the center and leaving a band of clean dough about an inch wide at the outer edge. Sprinkle about 1 tbsp. cinnamon sugar over the jam and then 1 tbsp. of chocolate shavings (if using raspberry jam) or 3 tbsp. chopped ginger (if using peach).
7. Starting from the outer edge, roll each slice in toward the center point. Place the resulting roll point-down on a cookie sheet covered in parchment.
8. Repeat for the second and third discs of dough.
9. Bake 20-25 minutes until the cookies are golden brown on top.
10. Cool and enjoy!
History and cooking are two of my main interests, and I’ve been fascinated for years with the history of cooking. When I was about 14 a family friend gave me a collection of historical recipes published by the British Museum; my next acquisition, picked up during my undergrad career as a Classical Archaeology major, was a copy of a 1950s translation of Apicius’s ancient Roman De Re Coquinaria. Within a few years I found my stack of cookbooks expanding in size and scope and definitely taking on “collection” form. I rescued a volume of 70s casserole recipes from a roommate’s Salvation Army box and began scouring thrift stores for kitschy cookbooks. My single shelf of books went from half-full to 2 rows deep.
This collection has been gathering dust on my shelves: I tend to buy these books, flip through and marvel at black & white plates depicting aspics and roasts, and then forget about them. On occasion I find a recipe I think I’d like to try…but I usually get distracted by my colorful, easy-to-use Martha Stewart Cookie/Cupcake books and move on.
I decided this must stop: I will dig back into the culinary past to look for recipe gems and curiosities, and I will document my efforts here. I’m not Julie Powell – I’m not setting this up as a challenge. Think of me rather as a Cookbook Indiana Jones scouring the strata of my shelves in search of any number of Holy Grails: the best refrigerator cookies from the 50s, new flavor combos from Ancient Rome, esoteric country-style forcemeats.
Enjoy and please pass on any of your own recipe finds!
