Category Archives: News

SPRING IS ON THE WAY

There is still snow in the backyard—the front yard is even worse—but today, sunny and windy, it felt as though spring might finally be on its way. It seemed to me that the clothesline was at last getting enough sun, and I took a chance and hung laundry on the line.

Few things cheer me up more than seeing laundry flap in the wind. Encouraged, I took some pictures, threw the ball for the dog, and clipped some prickly canes growing in a straggly bunch at the edge of my lawn.

By the end of the day, all the laundry had dried, and feeling festive, I decided to make bean burgers from Mark Bittman’s How to Cook Everything Vegetarian. Another success! So good that we’ll try grilling some of those bean burgers this summer.

 

 

CLAM BISQUE CHALLENGE: INCLUDES RECIPE FOR CLAM BISQUE

I just finished reading Joan Reardon’s As Always, Julia: The Letters of Julia Child and Avis DeVoto. The book is fascinating on many, many levels—food, politics, women’s issues, the nature of friendship, and how even great people need a helping hand. But I will be going into this in a future post. In fact, I am planning on writing an honest-to-God book review, something I haven’t done for quite a while.

But for this post, I want to delve into clam chowder or clam bisque or whatever you want to call it. I got the idea from one of Avis DeVoto’s letters, dated January 9, 1953. (Please keep in mind that this is way before Julia Child became JULIA CHILD. Mastering the Art of French Cooking would be published in the early 1960s.) DeVoto, an editor as well as a dedicated home cook wrote, “A firm called Snow is canning minced clams and they are absolutely wonderful. (Send you a sample?) Add thin cream, butter, freshly ground black pepper and you have the most wonderful bisque, strong of clams.”

This started me thinking about clam bisque. In fact, this made me want to eat clam bisque. As a Mainer, I know very well that fresh, steamed clams make the best bisque or chowder. But let’s face it, in the everyday scheme of things, we don’t always have the time or the energy to steam and shuck clams and then clean up the mess. So I asked myself, could I make decent clam bisque using canned clams, as Avis DeVoto suggested?

I decided to find out. At first, I was going to do exactly as DeVotto did, using only clams, light cream, butter, and pepper. But I wanted a little more. In my imagination, the bisque had potatoes. It also had more to flavor it than pepper. Perhaps sherry and Worcestershire sauce.

Next came the second challenge. Onions are commonly used in chowder. I love the taste they bring to chowder, but unfortunately onions don’t agree with me unless they are very well cooked. (A terrible handicap for a foodie, and a subject that will be explored in some later post.)

Fortunately, my digestive system can handle garlic. Could garlic be substituted for onion? Would the bisque still be flavorful?

With two challenges in mind—canned clams rather than fresh and garlic rather than onion—I poked around the Internet for a clam bisque recipe, and I found one on Epicurious to use as a guideline. I added this, I took away that, and the results were just what I had hoped for—rich and flavorful. Really, even with the canned clams, this bisque is good enough to serve as a first course to guests or to make as a meal for a light supper.

Clam ChowderMy husband, Clif, concurred, and we slurped every bit of the chowder. I only made enough for one meal. Without a husband like Clif, this recipe might serve three or four people, depending on serving size. So if you have hearty eaters or are feeding four or more people, this recipe should definitely be doubled. Also, next time, I’m going to try using a can of whole clams along with a can of minced clams, just to see what the texture is like.

With the butter and cream, this is obviously a very rich dish and one I will only make occasionally. But in Maine, March and the beginning of April are dreary beyond words, and sometimes what is needed is a nice, rich bisque to perk things up.

Clam Bisque

2 (6.5 oz) cans of minced clams, juices reserved
1 clove of garlic, minced
1 tablespoon of butter
1 tablespoon of flour
½ bay leaf
½ teaspoon thyme leaves, chopped (See note below)
3 medium potatoes, peeled and diced
1 ½ cups of half and half
2 tablespoons of dry sherry, or to taste
Salt, to taste (With the clam juice, little should be needed.)
F
reshly ground pepper, to taste
Tabasco sauce, to taste
Worcestershire sauce, to taste

Place the reserved clam juice in a two-cup measuring cup. You want to have 1½ cups of liquid. You won’t have quite enough clam juice, but it will be close. I added a bit of water to the clam juice so that I would have 1 ½ cups of liquid.

In a medium-sized saucepan, melt the butter, add the garlic and flour and stir until it’s a little bubbly, a minute or two. Whisk in the clam juice/water mixture, bring to a simmer, and cook for five minutes, stirring occasionally. The clam juice/water should have the consistency of heavy cream. Add a little water if the mixture is too thick. Add the bay leaf and thyme, then the potatoes. Simmer until tender, about ten or fifteen minutes.

When the potatoes are nearly cooked, place the clams and cream in another saucepan, and bring to a gentle simmer, for about five minutes, until the clams are thoroughly heated.

When the potatoes are tender, add the cream and clams to the soup base. Simmer for 1 or 2 minutes or until the bisque is as hot as you like it. (Don’t bring to a full boil.)

Stir in the sherry, and season to taste with salt, pepper, Tabasco, and Worcestershire sauce.

Need I add that plenty of saltine crackers should be served with the bisque? Not really, but reminders never hurt.

And, as Julia Child would say, bon appétit!

Note about the thyme: I debated as to whether I should use fresh thyme, which is obviously superior to dried thyme. But, oh the price of herbs in those little plastic containers. Then, on top of this, the herbs are not always as fresh as they should be. So I used ¼ teaspoon of dried thyme, and although I thought the bisque was good enough for company, it seemed to me that the dried thyme was the least successful part of this recipe’s adaptation—there was just a touch of bitterness. You might want to spring for fresh thyme. Next time, I am considering trying a bit of dried tarragon, to see if it is more satisfactory than dried thyme.

I’ll keep you posted.

Addendum: The dried tarragon was indeed more satisfactory than the dried thyme, and the whole clams gave the bisque better texture.

WHEN BRIE WAS KING (OR QUEEN!): FOOD FADS

Today, in the New York Times, I read a piece called “The Fickle Fashions of Food” by Jeff Gordinier. The piece focuses on food fads, when once upon a time, it was the height of sophistication to serve pasta salad as part of a buffet. (Full disclosure: I like pasta salad.) Next came Brie, served as an appetizer and considered oh so elegant. (Full disclosure: I like Brie.) For sophistication with chocolates? Godiva. (Do I really need to add that I like Godiva chocolates?) 

Well, fads come and fads go, and this is certainly the case with food. As primates, we humans are endlessly concerned with status and novelty, which are often twined together. Old-fashioned is hardly synonymous with hip, and while old-fashioned might be a compliment in some circles, it also has a dusty, poky sound.  

And let’s be honest—most hosts and hostess want to impress their guests with the quality of the food, and, yes, even the novelty. Plus, it’s just plain fun to discover new trends and perhaps add them to the family’s food repertoire. Once upon a time, Godiva chocolates and Brie were new to me, as were chorizo, prosciutto, and even tortellini.  

In fact long, long ago, pizza was new to me. I think I was ten or eleven before I tasted my first pizza. I remember thinking: Wow, that’s good! I won’t say pizza was exotic in central Maine in the 1960s, but it wasn’t exactly commonplace, either. My family didn’t eat it, and as far as I know, none of my friends did, either.  

How times have changed. Is there a ten-year-old child in central Maine who hasn’t eaten pizza? If there is, then that child is certainly in the minority. 

But novelty can also become ridiculous. The current trend of putting bacon in everything, from chocolates to cupcakes strikes me as just plain bizarre. And please keep in mind that I am someone who loves bacon, who could easily eat half a pound of thick, crisp strips and then idly wonder about eating a bit more. But bacon has its place, and in my opinion it’s not on cupcakes or in chocolate.  

So what’s a foodie to do? In the comment section of “The Fickle Fashions of Food,” a writer called “Paladin” wisely noted, “Some of what’s good in every decade is good in any other.” 

Paladin is right. And my way is to be open to it all—the old-fashioned and the new. Some things I will like; some things I won’t. Some food, such as Brie, will never go out of style in our household. Some food, such as clam dip, will even make a reappearance. Some trends I will reject. I will never put bacon on a cupcake. But bring it all on, and I will at least consider it. 

What I hope to never become is a food snob, which is what can happen with an undue concern with trends and novelty. Snobs drain the joy out of whatever is they are snobby about, be it food, fashion, or art. And food without joy is dismal indeed.

 

 

MONDAY, APRIL 4: WHAT I’VE BEEN READING

Here are a few pieces on the Internet that might be of interest to readers.

First, from the food writer Mark Bittman, who fasted last week to protest proposed budget cuts to the food stamp program as well as other programs that help the poor. In the opinion section of the New York Times blog, Bittman has written several pieces, all worth reading, and one of them includes a great link to the Center for American Progress, which gives some interesting facts and figures about budget cuts and tax breaks for the wealthy.

Second, a sweet little piece from the Bangor Daily News about migrant workers in Down East Maine and how those workers are builidng “bridges with food.” (I just love that idea!)

Finally, wonderful writing from Fran Claro’s blog, The Italian Pantry. Her description of pizza rustica made me long for some, and the weaving of the Easter palms reminded me of my Catholic girlhood in Maine. This was a ritual in our house, too, albeit not as fancy as what Claro describes. And, darn it all, we never made pizza rustica, either. We just had plain old ham.

THE LET THEM EAT BREAD REPORT

Bread CartoonThe Project: To bake and give away at least one loaf of bread each week in 2011. 

The Reason: A personal protest against the rampant selfishness of our society. 

The Bonus: It’s great spiritual practice, as well. 

Loaves of Bread Given Away So Far This Year: 20  (I counted several times, just to be sure I was right.) 

************************************************************************

Actually, last week I goofed with the weeks. (Counting is not my best thing, not even when it’s easy.) I put down that it was week 12 of my Let Them Eat Bread project when really it was week 11. This is week 12. Ah, well!  

This week I gave two loaves of bread away: one to my friend Diane Friese, whom I wrote about in a recent post, and one to my friend Sherry Hanson, who is unfortunately struggling with a recurrence of ovarian cancer. 

I have been friends with Sherry since the early 1990s, and I met her through a group called Maine Media Women. Sherry is one of those rare souls who is both creative and organized. (Those traits often do not occur in the same person.) Her house is shining and clean, but has funky, decorative touches that make it interesting. Sea glass, fish she has made from driftwood, and the color blue ripple through her house. Sherry teaches writing classes, is a fine poet, and has also written nonfiction for various magazines. She runs, she bikes, she roller blades, and Sherry must be as trim now as she was when she was a young adult. 

It seems grossly unfair that this creative, energetic person should be fighting ovarian cancer. As a matter of fact, it is unfair. No other way to put it. But she is, and it’s back on chemotherapy for her, back to not feeling well, back to not living a normal life. 

“But I’m hoping it will give me more time,” she told me. 

Yes, more time. As we age, that is what we all want, and I sure hope Sherry gets it. 

I must say that bread seems like a small thing to give to someone who is quite literally battling for her life.

 

 

ANOTHER ANNIVERSARY MEAL

Yesterday, my husband, Clif, said, “I wish wedding anniversaries happened more than once a year.”

I could see his point. On Sunday, Shannon and Mike came over to our house to cook us something special in honor of our thirty-fourth wedding anniversary.

Oh, the food they made: puff pastry cheese straws; sausage simmered in wine and spices; homemade tortilla chips; curried pancakes; pork moo-shu; plum sauce; and rice. For dessert—a layered parfait consisting of pound cake pieces spread with raspberry jam, whipped cream mixed with lemon curd, and strawberries.

Clif and I ate and ate. Maybe it’s just as well we only have one wedding anniversary a year.



HOW SWEET IT IS: MAINE MAPLE SUNDAY AND A TRIP TO MIKE SMITH’S SUGARHOUSE

Alchemy in the sugarhouse

For our family, March has two events that perk up an otherwise dreary month—the first is my husband, Clif’s, and my wedding anniversary and the second is the beginning of maple syrup season. The fourth Sunday of March has been designated as Maine Maple Sunday, and on that day, Clif and I always like to go visit a sugarhouse where the precious substance is being made.

This year we went to Mike’s Maple House, which is off the Holmes Road in Winthrop, right around the corner from us. (Had it not been so cold and blowy, we could have walked.) We went midafternoon, and cars were lined along the side of the dirt road, a little squishy despite the chilly weather. No surprise that there was a crowd. Mainers are crazy about maple syrup, and they prefer the real stuff—strong and sweet with an intense maple flavor.

Forty gallons of sap equals one gallon of syrup

The sugarhouse, a good-sized brown building, was an easy trip down an equally squishy driveway. The sugarhouse had steam pouring out a vent in a cupola on top of the roof, and alongside the driveway were stacks and stacks of wood used for boiling down the sap. By the side of the building is a huge barrel—one that can hold forty gallons—with a gallon maple syrup jug sitting next to it. Yes, readers, this is how much sap, collected from maple trees in the spring, is needed to make one gallon of maple syrup. A very good visual.

Inside the building, visitors could witness the birth of maple syrup. A huge wood-fired evaporator dominated one side of the room, and between the flames, visible through cracks in the wood box, and the steam of the evaporating sap, it felt as though we were in some kind of alchemist’s workshop. In a way, I suppose we were, with maple syrup rather than gold being the product. The sweet scent of sap filled the sugarhouse, and when combined with the smoky smell of the fire, the effect was intoxicating, producing a nearly irrational desire for maple syrup products.

A table, of course, with such products was set up on the other side of the room. But before whipping out my checkbook, I spoke to Mike Smith, the genial, outgoing owner, and his equally friendly children, Christy Andrews and Ryan Smith. Christy was handing out samples of vanilla ice cream topped with maple syrup, and Ryan was tending the evaporator.

Mike told me that unlike last year, this was a good year for syrup, and he expected to get at least 125 gallons. (Go ahead. Do the math and figure how much sap needs to be boiled down to get this much syrup.)  Mike has been boiling sap since he was small, and for years his family did it for home use. Now Mike makes enough to sell. One year, with the help of an old farmer to collect the sap, he and his family made 210 gallons of syrup. Mike mentioned how his oldest boy has caught on with making maple syrup, and that his youngest son was catching on, too.

Good! May the Smith tradition of boiling sap continue for a long, long time.

Before leaving, I bought four maple whoopie pies—I can’t get away from them, and I’m not sure I want to. The whoopie pies were made by Steve’s Snacks Bakery in Skowhegan, Maine. I also bought a jug of extra-dark maple syrup. While both Clif and I like any grade of maple syrup, even the light, we prefer the rich, dark amber syrup.

I’m thinking I might save this syrup for dessert, to be combined with roasted walnuts and then ladled on vanilla ice cream. So good! And then perhaps invite our friends Diane and Sybil to come over and share the treat. Shannon and Mike could be included, too, if they are free. There is plenty to go around.

HOW SWEET IT IS, PART II

More pictures of Mike’s Maple House in Winthrop, Maine.

Mike's Maple House
Mike's Maple House

 

Ryan Smith explains how sap becomes syrup

 

Tubes for collecting sap

 

The wood-fired evaporator requires a lot of wood

 

 

THE BEST KIND OF DAY: LUNCH WITH DIANE AND THEN A TRIP TO THE BOWDOIN MUSEUM OF ART

LunchYesterday, my husband, Clif, and I had the best kind of day. Our friend Diane invited us over to her house for lunch, and what a terrific time we had. As my daughter Shannon put it when I told her about our day, “You always have a great time when you got to Diane’s house.”

Yes, we do. Not only is Diane an accomplished cook, but she is also such a gracious hostess. She has the true knack of making guests feel special, at ease, and cared for. In addition, the conversation is always lively, revolving around movies, the environment, books, and art.

TableFor lunch, Diane served a baked cheese dish with vegetables, baked sweet potato fires, and a salad to go with it. I brought bread, and we went to one of my favorite places for dessert—Gelato Fiasco. I love ice cream, but I adore gelato, and whenever we visit Diane, we plan to go to Gelato Fiasco.

As if all this weren’t enough, Diane has a real artistic flair with food presentation. I hope the pictures give an idea as to how beautifully she arranges the food on the plates.  

Passive solar heating panelThen there is Diane’s dedication to the environment, which always inspires us. Here is a passive solar heating panel (a hot-air solar panel with solar electric thermostat controlled circulating fans). Diane has installed three of them to help heat her house. Diane tells us those panels have made a real difference in the amount of fuel she uses. With the panels, Diane uses a third less propane–what she uses to heat her house—than she did before having them installed. These panels are not very expensive, and anyone who has a house facing the sun should consider installing them. Diane’s panels are from a company called ClearDome Solar Thermal.  In fact there are many simple do-it-yourself plans for similar passive heating panels available online. A couple of examples are the plans from Worcester Polytechnic Institute or this one from good old Mother Earth News.

In between lunch and gelato, we went to Bowdoin to check out two exhibits at their Museum of Art—Medieval English Alabaster Sculpture from the Victoria and Albert Museum and comic book artist Robert Crumb’s rendition of Genesis. Both were worthwhile. I was more impressed with Crumb’s work than I was prepared to be. No point in mincing words—Crumb is not my favorite artist. His work is too angry and too obscene for my taste. However, he seems to have been sincerely fascinated with Genesis, and except for a few naughty pictures, his rendition is straight up. It’s a rather mind- boggling exhibit, with the original full-size drawings, complete with text, for the whole book being on display.  

But the best part of the Bowdoin trip was an exhibit of Inuit Art at the Peary-MacMillan Arctic Museum. Oh, the exquisite carvings—some of animals, some of people, some of spirits. Large or small, they had true power. I hope to get back to Bowdoin for a second look before the exhibit is taken down—next December, I think.

Another excuse to go for gelato, and, if we’re very lucky, maybe Diane will invite us over for lunch.