Chapter 38 After The Circus continued

How It Tasted

Cold Sliced Ham

Despite its war torn appearance the ham was amazingly good—possibly the best meat that has ever appeared on a Bettina menu. It was so tasty that DH and Son didn’t insist their portions be warmed up in the microwave—high praise indeed as both have a real aversion to cold meat.

Despite my best efforts the slices couldn’t be described as elegant, but the meat itself was attractively colored and succulent—a dish I wouldn’t hesitate to serve to guests.

Boston Brown Bread

Milomir: Why is it black?

I was pretty embarrassed by the appearance of this bread but, much to my relief, everyone was a good sport.

Popping the slices in the oven for a few minutes did in fact dry them out quite a bit, but I can’t say this bread was a success. It was simply too odd looking and (once over that hurdle) too dense and sweet to be served with the main course. Spread with lots of butter it was edible, but I could tell by the looks on everyone’s faces they really didn’t enjoy it.

Blackberries/Cream

Despite the berries’ incredible tartness they were a genuine success—primarily, I believe, because I added some powdered sugar to the cream served along with them. Eaten together the two made up an unusual sort of pudding and, happily, every last spoonful was consumed.

Spiced Cake

Yet another Bettina brick of a cake apparently hacked from the fireplace. The spiciness was appealing and the frosting excellent, but the cake itself was what I’ve come to expect: dense, doughy, and remarkably un-tender.

This spice cake is probably what was once known as a “keeper”—baked goods that could last the week without growing noticeably stale or moldy. In fact, this cake was so sturdy I'm sure it could survive far greater trials—say, traveling through the Sahara on the back of a camel.

Iced Tea

This really is an ideal beverage to serve with cold ham, and I certainly found it simple to prepare. I also pre-sweetened it, and that seemed to make it more popular with the family. Usually my husband and son don’t show a great deal of interest in the stuff, but this time around they both wanted refills.

Would I Make This Again?

Absolutely—but with a couple of exceptions.

Even a truly delicious frosting couldn’t make that doughy cake more appealing, and DH in particular seemed disturbed by the appearance of the bread.

But the rest of the meal was a success—the meat especially. I’m still amazed that such delicious ham cost less than five dollars. Certainly buying the shanks was a far better deal than an eight- or ten-pound chunk that would take us days to consume.

So hats off to Bettina...for once her promise of both a quick and economical meal came through. Bravo!

Chapter 38 After The Circus

Introduction

A circus may be exciting, but clapping seals and red-nosed clowns can’t compare with a Bettina supper!

Such an exhausting day calls for a “cool and appetizing” meal, and Bettina has matters well in hand. In the blink an eye the tired circus-goers find a feast spread before them: cold sliced ham: brown bread, blackberries, and enormous tumblers of iced tea!

Part 1

The Menu

Cold Sliced Ham

Boston Brown Bread

Butter

Blackberries

Cream

Spiced Cake

Iced Tea

Sliced Lemon

Reading over the chapter’s recipes one can’t help notices a major domestic upheaval in the period between the two world wars. Although the menu itself never changes, in the original edition of the book the miracle device is a fireless cooker…but by 1942 the pressure cooker is the wonder gadget: “cooler and more economical” Bettina gushes.

Of course I own a thermal cooker (the modern equivalent of Bettina’s “fireless”) but have never had the courage to purchase (much less use) the pressurized variety. In fact, I can’t even imagine cooking bread under pressure—is that even possible?

Seems like a true Bettina devotee would see that as a challenge, but loading a lump of heavy dough into a pressure cooker seems like a feat best left to the aforementioned circus—as big a draw, no doubt, as firing daredevils out of cannons.

Cold Sliced Ham

As usual the main ingredient of this allegedly easy dish was anything but simple to locate. After much searching for a decent (and affordable) chunk of uncooked ham I gave up.

Precooked smoked ham shanks—not exactly what the recipe calls for, but the best I could do (short of sawing parts off a live pig :) )

This “ham” actually looks pretty nice, but there’s far more bone and fat than I expected.

How much meat will be left after I finish trimming this?

Not a whole lot, as it turns out. Still, this ham looks plump and juicy and, as it’s already been smoked, it should be pretty tasty.

Boston Brown Bread

As mentioned above I plan to cook this in my thermal cooker, which relies on trapped heat.

The first step is to sour some milk by adding a tablespoon of vinegar to it.

The baking tin (really an aluminum can that once held baked beans).

Somehow I doubt the colonists who developed this bread had time to sift the dry ingredients, but Bettina’s wish is my command!

As one can see, sifting the flours turned out to be a good idea. These leftover grains and husks might be useful for polishing our tooth fillings, but I imagine they wouldn’t taste very good.

The sour milk and molasses added to the dry ingredients.

Mixing the batter up. Not surprisingly the combination of rye, cornmeal, and wheat made for a resilient dough that gave my mixing arm a real workout.

Looking good!

Adding the raisins.

Of course the baking can no longer has a top, but some parchment paper tied down with butcher’s twine should do the trick.

The filled can can’t rest directly on the bottom of the thermal pot, so I improvised a trivet of sorts. This is a mini-sized cast iron skillet I picked up at a yard sale.

In this step the thermal cooker’s inner pot is placed on the burner of the stove, filled with water, and boiled for thirty minutes.

Well, the dough is more 'lively' than anticipated. After just ten minutes of boiling it rose over the top of the can! I had no choice at this point but to remove it from the boiling water, cut off the paper and the twine, trim the top of the loaf, re-wrap it, and place it back in the pot.

The bread can’s ultimate resting place. After thirty minutes of boiling on the stove it’ll continue cooking for another five to six hours in the thermal cooker.

Later

Unfortunately I left the bread in the thermal cooker too long. Consequently the top of the loaf was over steamed—wet to the touch, in fact. I can only hope the inside of the loaf stayed dry.

Trying to pry the bread out of the can with a knife.

Didn’t work. I'll to take the bottom of the can off with an opener and push the bread out.

Ugh. No doubt this would make the colonists blanch--then sentence me to a day or two in the stocks!

Unfortunately the inside of the loaf was almost as soggy as the outside. I’m going to put these slices on a baking sheet and then into the oven in hopes of drying them out.

Blackberries

What could be sweeter than fresh raspberries?

Lots of things…if the berries have been purchased in November! The pucker power of these small sphere is astounding—I’m going to have to sugar them.

Spiced Cake

It seems a bit odd to see spiced cake and Boston brown bread (heavy with raisins and molasses) on the same menu, but perhaps it will turn out to be some unbeatable combo and/or taste sensation. We’ll see.

More sour milk required. OK, get the bottle of vinegar back out.

Creaming the butter and sugar.

Sifting the dry ingredients and then adding them (alternately with the sour milk) to the butter/sugar mixture.

Whipping the egg whites…

…and then folding them into the batter.

Bettina has an aversion to greasing and flouring baking pans and insists that parchment paper be used instead to line the pans. I sometimes ignore this (trying to fit paper into a Bundt pan is a one-way ticket to Crazyville) but decided this time to give it a try.

The cake is to be cooked in a “moderate” (325 degrees Fahrenheit) oven for approximately 25 minutes.

Well, aside from that fissure running across the top the cake looks fine.

Now for the brown sugar icing…

Cooking the brown sugar with water and 1/8 teaspoon cream of tartar. Thanks heavens for that last ingredient…any kind of stabilizer is welcome in a cooked frosting.

Whipping the eggs whites while the sugar syrup boils. When it reaches the soft ball stage I’m to pour it “gently” over the stiffened whites.

Not sure the beaters on my electric mixer are capable of “gentle” motion, but I need to hurry and get this meal on the table…the troops are starting to grumble!

I’m impressed. This is by far the best cooked icing I’ve ever made—the brown sugar prevents it from being overpoweringly sweet, and the texture seems perfect.

Iced Tea

I thought I’d grown forever tired of Bettina’s iced tea, but tonight it sounds like the perfect beverage...easy to make, too.

My 5-5 rule: steep five teabags for five minutes in a pot of boiling water. Simple…and caffeine in any form should help power me through the post-meal cleanup!

How It Looked

Chapter 37 The Big Secret continued

How It Tasted

Creole Lamb

Milomir: Well, the sauce is good.

Indeed the vegetable-laden sauce was extremely good: nice color, snappily seasoned, all in all a very fine dish. But the same can’t be said for the cubes of rubbery lamb (polyurethane chunks?) that festooned it. It would appear that poaching lamb is not the way to go—unless of course one’s jaw muscles need a serious workout or there’s a mattress to be stuffed.

Potato and Green Corn Croquettes

There wasn’t a speck of meat or fish in these deep-fried cylinders, but nonetheless they tasted uncannily like the codfish balls I prepared a couple of weeks ago.

Although they held their shape well they really didn’t bear much resemblance to ears of corn, and the creamy smoothness of the mashed potatoes seemed to predominate. But in truth that blandness was something of a relief after the spicy lamb stew—certainly a tongue-soother that helped to mitigate the bite.

Rhubarb Sauce

Milomir: Pass the jam, please.

Even craftily spooned into a dish and beaten with a fork this rhubarb “sauce” didn’t fool anyone—one glance was enough to reveal that it was in fact jam.

Still, as bottled fruit spreads go it was rather nice. Its tart flavor is far more appealing to us than the more common (and much too sweet) strawberry and grape jams and jellies. And, like the croquettes, it helped dilute the spicy wallop the lamb…a bland palate-pleaser which, at this point in the meal, was desperately needed.

Bread and Butter

As it turned out this commercial loaf was perfectly suited to a meal based on leftover lamb and corn—economy was the order of the day here, and inexpensive bread certainly fit the bill.

Moreover, the precut slices served a double purpose: perfect vehicles not only the rhubarb jam but the sauce coddling the lamb. Usually no one but me pays much attention to the bread, but during the course of the meal we collectively consumed almost half the loaf.

Head Lettuce with French Dressing

While preparing this dressing I marveled at how easy it was but, as it turned out, even measuring the four ingredients into a jar and shaking it proved to be something of a waste--just dumping straight vinegar on the salads would have had the same general effect and saved precious minutes in the bargain.

It seems impossible that I failed making something this simple, but it’s also hard to believe that the inventor of this dressing had any enamel left on his or her teeth by the time the recipe was perfected. It really was strong—almost unbearably so—and a definite no-no for anyone without cast-iron choppers and a stomach to match.

Lemon Chiffon Pie

Filip: It’s melting.

Yes, like the cinematic Wicked Witch of the West this pie literally disintegrated before our eyes (no bucket of water necessary to achieve the effect, just the touch of a fork).

But despite its (nonexistent) texture this pie was actually something of a hit—it had a good citrus flavor, a nice color, and a much-appreciated whipped cream garnish. I’ve never before served a pie that had to be ladled up with soup spoons, but everyone seemed to enjoy it and, thanks to the commercial crust binding it together, these oozing slices weren’t completely unmanageable.

Cheese

Alas the cheese was overlooked until the meal’s conclusion—a good thing, perhaps, as in some thirty minutes at room temperature it somehow turned to rubber. Not surprising that this cheapo cheese was less than satisfactory…it was a store brand and suitable only (in my opinion) for luring rats into traps.

Would I Make This Again?

As so often happens the answer to this question is less than clear cut. Yes, I would make this meal again, but not without some major deletions from the bill of fare.

The sauce the lamb sat sulking in was excellent, the bread and the jam very good. The croquettes are harder for me to give either a yay or a nay…at the time they seemed to compliment the meal, but in retrospect I wonder if their bland creaminess was only attractive in contrast to the rawhide-like qualities of the lamb.

The pie received a mixed review from the troops: tasty, but so unattractive we couldn’t enjoy it properly.

And the salad dressing? Definitely a thumbs’ down—even days later the very thought of it sends chills down my spine. It really was a horror and something appropriate for only a couple of occasions: a plumbing emergency, or when varnish needs to be stripped from the floors.

Chapter 37 The Big Secret

Introduction

The secret is out, and newly-engaged Alice wastes no time staking out Bettina’s kitchen.

“I have all this to learn, and I’m depending on you to help me,” she pleads, knowing full well soon-to-be Hubby’s animosity toward “frivolous” women.

Never one to shrink from a challenge, Bettina generously invites her friend to dinner, agrees to provide a crash course in cooking, and volunteers to host an announcement luncheon for the newly betrothed.

“Why, Alice, I just enjoy that kind of work,” she avows. “I’m sure between us we can think up just the prettiest, cleverest way of telling it that any prospective bride has ever had!”

Part 1

The Menu

Creole Lamb

Potato and Green Corn Croquettes

Rhubarb Sauce

Bread

Butter

Head Lettuce

French Dressing

Lemon Chiffon Pie

Cheese

Preparing the Meal

Creole Lamb

As this dish is made from leftover lamb I can the basic ingredient any way I please and hopefully come out with a tender chunk of meat to work with.

After some thought I decided to brine and then poach the lamb with the same technique I use for skinless chicken breasts. I discovered this process on thekitchen.com and, as the author asserts, it almost never fails.

Since only ½ cup of leftover lamb is required I felt that two chops (riddled unfortunately with more fat and bone than expected) would be sufficient.

As the meat’s already been brined in salt water I only need to season it with pepper.

Heating up the oil in my Dutch oven…

…and into the pot the chops go.

The technique is pretty simple: lower the heat, brown the meat for one minute, turn, clap on the lid…

…and let poach, undisturbed, for ten minutes.

It’s been about five minutes, and these chops still look quite raw. ☹

As per the recipe given by thekitchen.com I’ve pulled the pan off the burner and reset the timer for another ten minutes.

It’s been twenty minutes since I slapped the meat in the pan, and I believe these chops are cooked (not a problem if they’re still slightly underdone—the meat will cook a bit more after it’s been added to the sauce and reheated).

Later

Chilled and chopped…now to brew up the sauce!

Melting butter over low heat.

Chopping onions and peppers.

Sautéing the vegetables.

Adding and then letting brown some flour.

Adding water (I had the option here of using beef stock but unfortunately had none in the pantry).

Now some tomato pulp…

…and lemon juice.

Adding horseradish (alas not the plain root I’m sure Bettina uses—the prepared stuff was all I could find).

And of course the “leftover” lamb. I’m not sure yet how this will taste, but it smells fantastic.

Potato and Green Corn Croquettes

I’ve seen many recipes that call for “green corn” but never exactly understood what that meant or how unripe vegetables could possibly be fit to eat.

But, according to The Free Dictionary, green corn simply means “young, tender ears of sweet corn.”—that “green” is definitely a misnomer!

But even with that mystery solved and Bettina’s avowal that Bob is very fond of these croquettes, I’m still a little uncertain. I really don’t see how on earth I’m going be able to get the pulp out of a hundred or more corn kernels without driving myself insane.

As corn season is long past I purchased a pack of frozen.

“Press out the pulp with the back of the knife”…umm, OK.

To heck with this…I’m going to toss the corn in my electric chopper and hope for the best.

The “pulp” is now to be cooked in butter…hard to tell though when it’s officially “done”.

These are the mashed potatoes to be mixed with the corn. They’ve been sitting in the refrigerator for several hours and need to be warmed up.

Adding spices.

As per the recipe I shaped the mixture into cylinders—an odd shape, I thought, until I realized they’re supposed to resemble ears of fresh corn.

Rolled in bread crumbs…

…and then dipped in egg.

Hmm…even with the coating these croquettes seem alarmingly soft. I’m going to refrigerate them and then fry them at the last minute.

Rhubarb Sauce

Like fresh corn rhubarb is not be had in November. Faced with that undeniable fact I had no choice but to substitute rhubarb jam.

Bread and Butter

It really didn’t seem appropriate to serve expensive breadstuffs at a meal made from leftovers. In this case pre-sliced commercial French bread will do just fine, I think.

Head Lettuce and French Dressing

Wow, this has got to be the easiest dressing ever.

Olive oil, vinegar, paprika, and salt.

Simply measure the ingredients into a jar, shake, and refrigerate until ready to serve.

Lemon Chiffon Pie

Well, A Thousand Ways To Please A Husband has certainly perfected the art of giving with one hand while taking away with the other…this fiendishly difficult pie more than balances out the oh-so-simple salad dressing.

The first thing I noticed was that Bettina forgot to include a recipe for a pre-baked pie shell…no choice here [insert crocodile tears] but to use one purchased at the supermarket.

Squeezing the lemon.

Scraping two tablespoons of lemon rind.

Beating egg yolks.

The beaten yolks added to a mixture of flour and salt, and then sugar, the lemon juice and rind, and a cup of milk.

Now the eggs whites have to be whipped. I won’t even bother to justify my use of an electric mixture for the job…simply don’t have the time or the patience to manage without it.

Folding the beaten whites into the lemon mixture.

I’m rather surprised to see that this is the perfect amount of filling for the crust. Generally when I make a pie there’s either too little or too much.

And that’s about it. The pie is to be baked in a “moderately slow oven” for thirty minutes, allowed to cool, and then garnished with whipped cream.

Cheese

Lemon pie served with cheese? I definitely thought this a bit strange, but after a quick Internet search The Huffington Post assures me (“Cheese And Dessert Pairings That Will Blow Your Mind”) that both cheddar and/or gruyere are suitable. As I already have a block of the former in my refrigerator guess I’ll use that.

How It Looked