Ms Cook’s Table

A minister has to be able to read a clock. At noon, it’s time to go home and turn up the pot roast and get the peas out of the freezer. Garrison Keillor

Just because my freezer has been empty most of my adult life doesn’t mean that I don’t appreciate a well stocked larder. Just the same, a quandary is present whenever I consider the order and the down right science that comes with freezing food.

My heritage is deplete of positive freezer therapy. One grandparent kept a gigantic freezer chest in an isolated hallway. Once the heavy top was flung back for all of its worth, I could peer inside to preview the cavity contents, darkened with net bags of unshelled pecans and rump roasts that were on special from the Jitney Jungle. This would leave me in a cold sweat.

But that was then and this is now. Today the thing that holds me back from enhancing my food preservation skills is my friend, the freezer genius. The contents of her appliance can provoke intimidation and down right tears of envy. Masterpiece comes to mind.

For many years she has tested various concoctions in icy suspension. Knowledge of her special powers have grown exponentially and she is now a trusted source for many who prefer consulting a live expert with their freezer queries.

Of course, it doesn’t hurt that she is a sublime chef. Even so, the roles of exalted cook and freezer artist entail separate gifts. Her freezing penchant requires a obsession with being prepared, putting her in the category of Martha Stewartness. Only my friend doesn’t have a staff. She prepares and freezes every single morsel on her own. Joyfully, I might add.

Anecdotal evidence is strewn about the country. Ask anyone who knows her and has experienced duress. She is often the first to assuage a furrowed brow with delivery of a complete meal, instructions taped to the top in her small, neat script. And by complete, I mean – main dish, sides and dessert.

I admire that her family is able to shop her stash – appetizers, casseroles, breads, and desserts. Her legacy is without equal. She has a deeply practical grip on life, most likely gifted to her by who else, but a grandmother.

She recently honored me with a peek at the family jewels, beautifully wrapped and labeled plates of food – gourmet TV dinners. With that I knew that I had no choice but to gather some self respect, up my game and learn to freeze like the artist.

Cottage Pie

The fact that this dish freezes for up to 3 months makes it the perfect vehicle to stow away. (Thaw in the refrigerator, cover with foil and bake for 20 minutes, then uncover and bake for 45 minutes more.) All ingredients can be interchanged for whatever is in season, creating an ever changing way to utilize the items that come with your CSA or with your farmers’ market purchase.

3 pounds new potatoes (about 30)
salt and pepper to taste
1 cup whole milk
4 tablespoons unsalted butter
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 pound chopped onions or frozen pearl onions, thawed
1 1/2 pounds ground lamb (or beef chuck)
1/4 cup tomato paste
1 tablespoon Worcestershire sauce
1/4 cup all-purpose flour
2 cups low sodium chicken broth (or homemade)
1 medium butternut squash (about 2 pounds), peeled and cut into 3/4 inch pieces
1 cup frozen peas

Heat oven to 350. Place the potatoes in a large pot, add enough cold water to cover by 1 inch, and bring to a boil. Add 1 teaspoon salt, reduce heat, and simmer until tender, 15 to 18 minutes. Drain and return the potatoes to the pot; add the milk, butter, 1/2 teaspoon salt, and 1/4 teaspoon pepper and mash. Meanwhile, heat 1 tablespoon of the oil in a Dutch oven over medium heat. Add the onions and cook, stirring often, until beginning to soften, 5 minutes; transfer to a medium bowl. Heat the remaining tablespoon of oil in the Dutch oven. Add the lamb (or beef), 1/2 teaspoon salt, and 1/4 teaspoon pepper and cook, breaking the lamb (or beef) up with a spoon, until no longer pink, 5 minutes; mix in the tomato paste and Worcestershire sauce. Sprinkle with the flour and cook, stirring for 1 minute. Add the broth, squash, peas, and onions and bring to a simmer. Transfer the lamb (or beef) mixture to a 9 by 12 inch (3 quart) baking dish and top with the potatoes. Bake until the potatoes are golden, the filling is bubbling and the squash is tender, about 45 minutes. Let cool for 5 minutes before serving.

Resources

Milk – Hatcher’s Dairy – Buckhead Coffee and Whole Foods Grocery
Potatoes and Squash – Bountiful Blessings Farm – bountifulblessingsfarm.com – 931-583-2795 – Edwin Dysinger
Lamb – Glendale Farm – glendalefarmtn.com – 931-215-5117 – Sam Kennedy

Skidamarink – a dink – a dink
Skidamarink – a do
I love you

The month of March brings in some rare air. In like a lion, out like a lamb – for me, March cradles the promise of birth and the finality of death highlighted with the dates of my beginning and my mother’s passing.

Last week I officially outlived my mother. At the time of her departure, I considered this day, hovering in the future, a possibility not to be conjured.

She left abruptly. Frozen in exquisite detail, I caught up to her and snatched a glimpse of what we would be like as contemporaries, only to have a one way conversation. As usual, I did the talking.

During this past year as I approached her in age, I prepared to close the gap and give her a high five as if to say, “I did it without you, but it was not easy”.

The tears have come and gone. Now I’m moving on into older age, as I did once before, but this time, I head for uncharted waters.

During a 57 year life span, we shared anticipation of certain markers: a girlhood in Mississippi, marriage to a good man and devoted children. We are linked by the busyness of daily tasks and the exhaustion that comes from living out of others.

Unwilling to move on in a world without the defenses of youth and physical beauty, she unconsciously halted the march of time, but not before passing along some things that I needed.

I cling to her distinct brand of intelligence: a curious nature, a desire to make home a haven, delight in the world of miniatures, love of a good story, ambition for hand made gifts and the proper tools for appropriate dress and good manners to honor the day.

For contrast she lent me a modicum of stormy thoughts and a smidge of the paranoid to frame my hunger for a better world.

These matriarchal gifts often materialize into a scene where I go for mother love. Sitting at the kitchen table, we are eating bowls full of rice and vegetables that she made. I feel the security of her happy mood as she begins to teach me the words of a song.

She insists that I learn each word, as I will have to sing them, on my own, for a lifetime.

Barley-Sweet Potato Hash

This hash is tasty, topped with a couple of fresh eggs, poached or fried over easy. The addition of ham or chicken make it a heartier meal but it is a choice bowl, as is.

1/2 cup pearl barley
2 tablespoons olive oil or vegetable oil
1 small onion, coarsely chopped
1 sweet potato, peeled and cut into 1/4 inch pieces
2 cups vegetable broth
salt
freshly ground pepper

Put the barley in a saucepan over medium heat.
Cook, shaking the pan often, for 5 minutes, or until toasted.
Remove the barley to a bowl.
In the same saucepan, heat the oil over medium heat.
Add the onion and sweet potato and cook, stirring occasionally, for 5 minutes until lightly browned.
Add the barley and broth.
Bring to a boil over high heat.
Reduce the heat to medium-low, cover, and simmer, stirring occasionally, for 30 minutes, or until the barley is tender but firm and the liquid is absorbed.
Season with salt and pepper.

From ghoulies and ghosties and long leggety beasties and things that go bump in the night, Good Lord, deliver us!

Have you ever noticed that some people have magnetic qualities when it comes to children? I wonder if children, closer to the creation source, instinctively are drawn to those souls whose grand purpose is the nurture of neophytes.

Such choice folk have a specialty; they are empowered with an effortless empathy for youngsters. In turn, these grownups are rewarded by attention from the ones who must crane their necks for tete-a-tete.

One such person recently mailed a gift to my 2 year old granddaughter as a consolation prize in honor of her status change to big sister. The gift arrested her complete attention. Inside a small pink hat box was a crowd of hand knitted finger puppets.

As she pulled each colorful being out of the container, she squealed a laugh of happy discovery until the last one, who we all recognized as a mouse. The mouse, unlike the others, was resplendent in white – white body, white ears, white tail, white whiskers.

And….white granddaughter. She flung the mouse puppet from her tiny hand. “I do not like that one – it’s scarey,” she said tearfully.

Well now, to me, that episode explains a lot about the human condition. As much as I would love to think that our evolutionary goal will someday present with international campfire singing and s’mores; we have to admit to the inherent lead of our reptilian brains, the part of us that smacks of survival with cries of “no breaks for thems that are different!”

Undoubtedly Ms. Cook prefers a message of expanding horizons, even so, today I submit a recipe for the survivalist in all of us. The 2 -year-old harbinger of what is safe and what is not will unconditionally vouch for mashed potatoes, as I am quite sure would the rest of the world.

Mashed Potatoes

Nothing suspicious about this worthwhile comfort food

2 pounds potatoes (preferably Yukon Gold)
1/4 cup milk
1/4 cup chicken or vegetable broth
2 tablespoons unsalted butter
1 1/2 teaspoons Dijon Mustard
1 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon freshly ground pepper

Bring a large pot of water to boil over high heat.
Add the potatoes, reduce the heat to medium, set the lid ajar, and boil until the potatoes are tender when pierced with a fork, about 20 minutes.
Meanwhile, stir the milk and broth in a small pan and warm it gently over low heat.
Do not simmer.
Drain the potatoes in colander and set in the sink.
Place them in a large bowl or back into the pan you just used.
Mash with a fork or beat with an electric mixer if a creamier version is preferred.
Pour in the warm milk mixure, then add the butter, mustard, salt and pepper.
Mash or beat until smooth but with chunks of skin visible.
Serve warm.