Our Fake Fireplace

No, it doesn’t roar, and neither does it hiss and crack and pop. In fact, it sounds something like an electric fan, and that’s because it’s fake! But we really like it.

We got on this bandwagon last winter, and I think it’s a bandwagon worth getting on. We have a drafty old house, and a space heater for the living room is much better than cranking the thermostat for the whole house.

And the timing for our purchase last winter was just right: Sue had the flu, and I could feel myself starting to come down with it. So, knowing I was running out of time (“it’s now or wait until after we’re both well!”), I went to a nasty big-box store and got our little imported fake fireplace.



Drove it home in the backseat of my little Honda, wrassled it up all the steps to our second floor (where the living room is)—Surprise, Sue! Look what I got for us!

We pulled it out of the box, and . . . Oh, no. It had been damaged. The hole in the box should have been a clue that it might be damaged inside. But I’d been in a hurry. So back in the box it went; I worked it back down our steps, back into my car, and back to the big box store, where the employees helpfully assisted me in opening the box of another one (because all the boxes had tears in them) to check it before I dragged it home.

Got the new one into my Honda, carried it through the front yard to our door, and wrassled it up the steps again—and voilà!



Our fake fireplace is small enough there was no assembly involved—just had to plug it in!

With all that work, all in cold weather, my flu symptoms then came on with a vengeance, and it was compounded with strained back and shoulder muscles from all that wrasslin’ and liftin’!

But somehow, it didn’t seem so bad at that point to have the flu, since I could sit by our fake fireplace and warm my aching bones. It’s amazing how the image of a flickering flame makes a regular ol’ space heater seem not only warmer, but cheerier.

We haven’t had a TV in our living room for some years, now, and our fake fireplace offers a nice alternative—movement, a mild focal point but without the crying or yelling for your attention of a TV.

Anyway . . . it’s been really nice this winter, too, with all the snow and cold weather we’re having.

Now, I need a few more, for a couple of other rooms in the house!

Today, There Are Only Hungry Birds

Boy, we’re having a genuine winter this year, aren’t we. Sue and I just got in from shoveling our six or so inches of snow, which, thankfully, was fluffy stuff and easy to toss away from our sidewalks with my trusty lightweight aluminum coal shovel (which came with the house).

While the sun was out, and while we were getting our workout, it actually didn’t feel that cold. But now that we’re inside with damp hair, and not moving anymore, now that the sun has gone behind a cloud, it’s starting to feel like that zero-degree weather we’re supposed to be having.

A look out our bathroom window, and I noticed more and more starlings perching on the small length of horizontal drain pipe connecting one section of gutter to another, in a place that’s sheltered by the eaves and out of the wind.

At one point, I counted fifteen of them, huddling together.

Now: I’m far from being in love with European starlings—they are exotic, invasive, noxious weeds of the bird world—but when it’s this cold, this bitter, this deadly, things are different. I’m on the side of life.



It reminded me of something my hero Edwin Way Teale wrote in his book A Walk Through the Year (New York: Dodd, Mead, 1978), for his entry for “January 4” (p. 326):

When we put out bird food these winter days we are as impartial as nature. The varied species compete, as they compete in the wild, for seeds scattered on the stone wall under the hickories and along the lane, for suet hanging in mesh bags from the apple tree, for food filling our different feeders. Bluejays share the sunflower seeds with chickadees and evening grosbeaks. Cowbirds feed among the tree sparrows. In these bitter winds of January, there are no “good” or “bad,” “beneficial” or “harmful” birds for us. There are only hungry birds.

Aside from the gray squirrels that we see coming in from the woods, bounding across the glitter of the ice crust, the birds, in their varied shapes and colors, are the most evident form of warm-blooded life today. And they will remain so all during the rest of the weeks of cold. The “dead of winter”—how much more dead it would be each year without the birds!

Birds can survive winter, provided they have enough food to stoke the fires of their metabolism. When there’s snow on the ground, birds can’t find food very easily. If you haven’t done so yet, go get yourself a bird feeder and some seed.

Because today, there are only hungry birds.

Aloo Keema (Plus Matar): Pakistani Meat 'n' Potatoes

Hi, folks! The recent breathtakingly cold temperatures have had me in the kitchen making “cold weather” food like soups and casseroles. It’s partly to satisfy our cravings for nice hot meals, but also to make the house smell excellent!

If you like hearty, spicy foods, you’ll love this. It’s an easy, quick, one-dish meal. If you can make Hamburger Helper, if you can follow directions, this isn’t too much harder.

Before I go further, the following is based on a recipe shared by Mrs. Sahar Khan, owner of SK Kitchen Store here in Jefferson City. You’ll find SK Kitchen Store in the shops next to Schnuck’s on Missouri Boulevard. Sahar, her husband, and her son are usually there, ready to help you pick out quality cookware and find what you need in a cavalcade of fun kitchen gadgets. They also sell Pakistani and Indian foods and cooking ingredients.

Sahar leads occasional cooking classes at her store, and if you’re interested in this sort of thing, I encourage you to call her and get on her contact list. Part of the “mystery” of this cuisine is in the technique, and she shows you: When has the masala cooked enough? How hot should the oil be before you add the spices? Also: Her graciousness is very welcoming, and her enthusiasm is contagious!

This recipe calls for only one special ingredient that probably is not in your spice cabinet—black cardamom pods. Don’t worry! You can buy black cardamom at SK Kitchen Store! If you’re not in Jefferson City, look for it at any good international store with a decent selection of Indian spices. (If you really can’t find it, then I suggest using green cardamom pods, but then, use about four, since they’re smaller and not as powerful. Black cardamom is entirely unique; uncooked, it kinda smells like turpentine. But trust me, you want it in this dish!) This is what black cardamom looks like:



I understand that aloo keema is a favorite dish in Pakistan, a “mom” food. Comfort food. “Aloo” means potato, and “keema” means meat, particularly minced or ground meat, as in beef (or possibly veal, mutton, goat, or lamb—think red meat here). So it’s meat ’n’ potatoes! The “matar” I mention in this post’s title is green peas—an optional addition that I like. Aloo keema matar: Potatoes, meat, and peas.

It’s the spices, of course, that set it apart from drab old American chow. The cinnamon is distinctive, but Sahar told me the key ingredient in her recipe is the black cardamom, and I think she’s right. Looking at other recipes for this dish online, few seem to include it. I encourage you to get some and use it. It imparts an unusual (and perfectly wonderful) flavor!

Again: This is adapted from a recipe from Mrs. Sahar Khan. Thank you Mrs. Khan! (Teach me more and more!)



T. = tablespoon
t. = teaspoon
Adjust all chilis to taste.

-------------------------------------------

Aloo Keema (+ Matar)
Potatoes, Ground Beef (+ Peas)

1 T. oil
1 medium onion, chopped

2 cinnamon sticks
2 black cardamom pods (I carefully pierce them once with the point of a knife)
2 bay leaves

1½ lb. ground chuck, lean (“ground beef” is just scary)

3 T. fresh ginger, grated
2 T. garlic, minced or pressed

1 t. crushed red chilis
1 t. ground red chilis
2 t. turmeric
3 t. ground coriander seed
3/4 t. salt (or to taste; check at end and add more if necessary)

2¼ cups water, divided (¼ cup + 2 cups)

2-3 medium potatoes, ½ inch dice (about 2½ cups) (I suggest Yukon Gold)
15-oz. can diced tomatoes (I like fire-roasted)
2 t. tomato paste (I’ve found this is optional)

1 cup frozen green peas, thawed (optional)
½ cup fresh cilantro, chopped
2 green chilis, chopped

Step one: Read through recipe and measure and set out all ingredients beforehand. Don’t be daunted by the number of ingredients. This recipe is easy and goes pretty quickly! The extra line spaces in my ingredients list represent things that can be added all together. Organization is good!

In a large, heavy, wide-mouth cooking pan that has a lid, heat the oil, add the onion, and cook on medium-high heat, stirring, until it starts to brown. Add cinnamon sticks, black cardamom pods, and bay leaves, and fry for about a minute. (It will start to smell really good!) Add the meat, stirring to break up the chunks, and cook until the water mostly evaporates. (If at any point it starts sticking, just sprinkle a little water in the pan to loosen it up.)

Add the ginger and garlic; stir and cook a few minutes; then add the spices: crushed red chilis, ground red chilis, turmeric, ground coriander, and salt. Add a ¼ cup of water, now, too. Cook this for about three or four minutes, to meld the flavors and form the “masala.”

Add the potato, tomatoes, and tomato paste, stir to combine, then add 2 more cups of water. Cover and simmer, stirring occasionally, until the potatoes are just done (don’t overcook potatoes; there’s still about 5-10 minutes of cooking left). (Cooking with the lid on is probably optional, but it makes the potatoes cook faster. But then you have to cook off the extra water; read on.)

When the potatoes are just done, uncover and cook to evaporate the moisture in the pan. You want it to be moist and still rather bubbly, but it shouldn’t be soupy. When it’s no longer watery, stir in the peas, cilantro, and green chilis. Cover again and cook about four minutes, to heat through. Taste and adjust salt.

(If your guests aren’t accustomed to having whole spices in their food, then fish out the cinnamon sticks, black cardamom pods, and bay leaves before serving.) Serve and enjoy!

-------------------------------------------

Suggested accompaniments are raita and naan.

Raita is a lot like a Greek tzatziki sauce. It complements hot, spicy food with its cool creaminess. You can make some very quickly: plain yogurt plus grated cucumber, pressed garlic or sliced green onion, cumin, and a pinch of salt. Good raita recipes abound. . . . Or you could just use plain Greek yogurt.

Naan is a lot like pita bread, a warm, soft, rather puffy flatbread. (It’s not like that dried-out “pocket” stuff some groceries carry.) Alternatively, you can approximate another traditional flatbread, chapati, by using whole wheat tortillas (heated up, of course).

I like cilantro or mint chutney as a relish, too. And I don’t think anyone would throw a fit if you served this with white rice, either.

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Cooking with fresh ginger: make it easy on yourself; prepare a bunch of it and freeze it ahead in zip bags. Click here for more tips on "convenient Grated Ginger" (Plus a recipe for cantaloupe-ginger sorbet!)

Icy Day

Hi, folks! Today, we’re experiencing one of the lesser-celebrated forms of wintry precipitation here in Central Missouri: an ice storm!

Fortunately, it’s not exactly stormy. Fortunately, “ice storm” is just the generic term for this kind of freezing rain. It’s rained mostly all day, and so far, here in Jefferson City, only elevated objects (tree branches and twigs, porch railings, and power lines) seem to have acquired a glaze.



But it’s after 3 pm, now, and temperatures will be falling. In the time it’s taken me to write this, the icicles have lengthened! Our yew trees are getting all splayed out from the weight of the ice.

It’s supposed to change over into snow at some point, though most of the precipitation is supposed to be north and west of us.

Even though we’re safe inside, we’re a bit on edge about the possibility of breaking branches and downed power lines. But it’s also very beautiful. I’d rather focus on that.



I feel sorry for people who have to travel through this today. Even if you manage to stay on the road and reach your destination, it’s not going to be very fun.

Here’s a view from our front windows, looking south on Broadway. (Here are some older posts with pictures of the same overall view, both from the big snowstorm in January 2011: here and here.)



So it’s a good day to stay inside! We have so much food around here I didn’t even go to the store to get the requisite “milk and bread.” For lunch, I had leftovers from Jefferson City’s new Indian (and Nepalese, and Korean) restaurant. I’ve got the lights on the Christmas tree turned on, and our little electric fake fireplace space heater is on, too.

I’m all warm and cozy. Soon I’ll make myself a nice hot cup of masala chai—thanks to my brother for sending us some boxes of easy-peasy instant chai packets, I don’t have to do anything but heat up water, dump in some powder, and stir! (Click here to learn more about this instant chai.)

Maybe I’ll even have some lebkuchen or springerles with it!

As you can guess, this ice storm is feeling like a really nice thing!

Let’s hope the power doesn’t go out! And if you’re planning to travel on these icy roads? . . . Stop it! Find a way to just stay home, be safe, and enjoy a quiet evening!

Take care, my friends!

Get Out the Decorations!

I’m not usually one of those people who have Christmas all “put up” the day after Thanksgiving. I grew up listening to things like “When we were kids, we didn’t get to see the tree until Christmas Eve!” (That was back when the trees had candles on ’em, and you had to keep an eye on the thing while they were burning!)



But I am a little ahead of my usual schedule, because this year my brother’s coming for a Christmas visit—early. He’ll be here tomorrow! It’ll be an “early” Christmas. I’m excited because he’ll be able to help set up the family Christmas tree—Grandma’s Christmas tree—which he hasn’t done since . . . when? Undergraduate days? I hope he remembers the German lyrics to “O Tannenbaum”!

And I’ll make sauerbraten and red cabbage while he’s here, and hopefully we’ll just have a really fun time.

Meanwhile, I’ve been baking cookies, so I’ll have a respectable tray to pass around with eggnog or sherry, and we’ve been getting the outside decorations squared away. Don’t get too excited about this, but look! I put extra lights up in our front dormer window (in addition to Grandpa Thomas’s star).





I also put a string of lights in the top side window, facing Broadway Street. (It looks better in person. My camera is not the greatest!)



The picture at the top of this post shows what our front dormer window looks like from inside. I love the way multicolored Christmas lights (the “old” kind) make the entire room glow warm orange and pink at night.

Our Christmas lights are lame, lame, lame, compared to some of our neighbors. We have two good ones across the street—on both sides! (We live on a corner.) It’s really fun to look out the windows and see pretty decorations. Yay!





Meanwhile, across town, the people who have the huge light display programmed to flash in synch with rock and pop Christmas music are “at it” again. They won one of the citywide decorating contests last year—they’ll probably get a prize again.

Here’s part of their display from last year.



To see a sample of their 2013 display and learn about where and when to see it in person, look at the Facebook page for “Holtmeyer Christmas Lights.”

Lines of cars accumulate politely on the street outside 3023 Mercedes Lane as people tune their radios to the appropriate frequency and listen to the music the yard flashes to. It’s not quite what touches me, Christmas-wise, though I have to admit it’s quite “festive”!

(Hey! Maybe we can go see that audio-visual extravaganza when Paul’s here!)

French Hunter’s Dinner—Retro Recipe

This post follows up on my previous one. It’s a recipe from Leota Busch’s personal cookbook, and she got it from my dear friend, the late Maryfrances (Schwartz) Ridgeway. I had to make it—for personal reasons. Because, I suppose, it connects me in a tiny way with someone who’s gone. Someone I miss.



The recipe itself? Well, at a glance you might think it’s one of those midcentury “culinary atrocities,” with the chop suey vegetables and such.

Somewhere, this recipe got pretty far away from anything French. (Unless French hunters shoot cattle and mix it with Italian spaghetti and American Campbell’s tomato soup!) It is what it is. As they say, boney patoots! (—Or something.)

But you know what? It’s pretty darned good! It’s kind of like a pre–Hamburger Helper hamburger helper. Unlike the prepackaged stuff, you control the sodium and fat. And it tastes much better.

It’s hearty, tasty, and good! Perfect for this time of year, as the weather gets cold and colder, and we get busy and busier. It makes a lot, and the leftovers are even tastier the next day.

I give you two versions: first, the original as it appeared in Mrs. Busch’s recipe book. Then, my interpretation. (No, I didn’t change it too much.)




French Hunter’s Dinner
(Original Version)

Ingredients:

Garlic buds
1# hamburger (twice ground)
Suet (about a cup, diced)
1 medium onion
Chili powder
1 box spaghetti*
1 can lima beans (medium)
(Seaside brand at Piggly-Wiggly)
1 can tomato soup
1 can mushrooms (Sutton, or sliced; may be omitted if desired) (20¢)

Procedure:

Boil & blanch one box of spaghetti, while hamburger is being prepared. Rub bottom of skillet with 1 or 2 garlic buds. Render suet & remove “cracklings.” Brown hamburger, & stir constantly to keep particles segregated. Sprinkle about 1 teaspoon of chile powder in. Add salt & pepper (about teaspoon of each). Dice onion, & stir into browned hamburger. Stir into this the spaghetti. Then the can of tomato soup. Let cook for a while. Add lima beans. Mushrooms.

* One can of spaghetti in tomato sauce may be used in place of “fresh” spaghetti.

This serves 5 or 6.

One can of “vegetables for Chop Suey” makes it extra good and increases the portions. these vegetables have to be sliced or diced, as they are large-sized in the can (Delmonico).

Serve with hot rolls, relish, coffee, and dessert.

Prepare in advance, & re-heat for serving, for best results.

--Maryfrances Schwartz





My mom is always quick to correct people when they say they’ve used “So-and-So’s” recipe but then admit that they’ve changed things. To Mom’s thinking, if you changed it one tiny bit from the original, it’s no longer “So-and-So’s” recipe.

But who’s so anal to follow instructions to the letter, especially when casserole-like dishes are concerned? Also, since apparently all of the brands specified in the recipe are defunct, there’s already no way to follow the directions completely.

Plus, prices and packaging have changed, so quantities must be interpreted. And if you’re gonna go that far, might as well make a few other changes for modern cooking methods. Like, get rid of the lard, and use the whole two cloves of garlic, pressed.

So, here’s my rendition. Because otherwise, I wouldn’t have made it. And what’s closer to the original recipe: tweaking it for 2013, in my kitchen, or never cooking it at all?




French Hunter’s Dinner
(Amended)

1/2 of a 16-oz. package of spaghetti
1 lb. ground chuck or ground round (beef; get the lean kind)
1-2 tsp. chili powder (to taste)
1 medium onion, chopped
2 cloves garlic, pressed, crushed, or minced
1 16-oz. can lima beans (frozen and thawed would be fresher-seeming)
1 10-oz. can condensed tomato soup
1 4-oz. can mushrooms (drained)
1 14-oz. can chop suey vegetables (“Fancy Mixed Vegetables” or “Stir-Fry Vegetables”) (drained)

Start the spaghetti and prepare according to package instructions. Meanwhile, in a large sauté pan with a lid, start browning the meat (if using lean beef, you might use a little vegetable oil). Sprinkle in the chili powder and add salt and pepper (about 1 tsp. of both; to taste). As meat begins to brown, stir in onions and garlic. When the meat and onions are cooked, stir in the can of tomato soup. Then add the (drained) spaghetti and stir gently to combine. Cook, half-covered, to meld flavors. Then add lima beans, mushrooms, and (if using) chop suey vegetables. Cook a little longer to heat through.

Oh yeah! And serving with hot rolls and relish, and ending with coffee and dessert, as instructed, is pretty darn good!



(—Boney patoots!)

The Personal Recipe Book of Leota Busch

I’ve recently been looking through the personal recipe book of one of Jefferson City’s (and Munichburg’s) notable residents. It belonged to Leota Busch. Leota was the wife of Arthur Busch, and the two ran Busch’s Florist from the early 1940s until his death in 1990. She continued to own and run the florist until 1996, when she sold the business. She kept working, though, doing flower arrangements for another eight years.

Busch’s Florist is just about two blocks away from my house, and it’s still gloriously in business, a true anchor for our neighborhood.



Busch’s is where my dad and his brothers used to buy my grandma flats of pansies for her birthday each March.

If you read Leota Busch’s obituary, you’ll see that she was a pretty neat lady, who lived a long and full life.

She and her husband didn’t have children, however, and when she passed away in 2011, she remembered the Old Munichburg Association in her will. When officers of the Old Munichburg Association met with Mrs. Busch’s bank, they were told that her survivors had declined to take some items that had belonged to Mrs. Busch, and her personal recipe book was one of these items.



I don’t suppose it has any real “value,” in any monetary sense. But then, I’m a collector of old church-ladies cookbooks, and I’m intrigued about anyone’s personal recipe collection.

As I’ve noted before, in prior generations, a lady’s ability to cook was a big part of her “job,” and her recipes reflected her and her family’s tastes. They reflected her triumphs, and they give insights into her creativity, her thought processes, and to some extent, her interactions with her family. It’s almost like a diary. I like reading “between the lines” in recipes. The things not said, because they are so well known, shows areas of special culinary prowess. The recipes splotched and stained with food spills were probably special favorites.



This little recipe book was meticulously prepared. Each recipe was typed (yes, on an old-fashioned manual typewriter!) with an admirable degree of stylistic consistency. She used asterisks as a stylistic way of denoting the ends and beginnings of sections.



It is neatly bound in a quarter-page-size, six-hole looseleaf notebook. There are thumb tabs for the different sections: meat, salad, vegetable, dessert, cake, candy, cookies, and “misc.”



(Yes, there are four entire sections for what amounts to desserts and sweets! Ha ha, take that, you ol’ “food pyramid”! Leota Busch lived to be ninety-nine!)

Anyway, there’s a lot in the recipe book that looks like a vintage church-ladies cookbook. Stuff we’d laugh at today, or cringe at, thinking about cholesterol and sodium and such. There’s a recipe for “Liver Cakes.”

Of course, times and tastes change. As expected, there are plenty of “ethnic” recipes done per mid-twentieth-century, midwestern style, and we’re all familiar with recipes like Leota’s “Spanish Steak,” which is “Spanish” by virtue of its having tomatoes, green and red pepper, onion, and optional “pimentos.”

Likewise, there is the de rigueur midcentury heartland recipe for “Chop-Suey” (from Clara Weber, Leota noted): “Have butcher cut meat into small pieces; put on stove to cook with just a little lard, salt & pepper.” In addition to onions, canned mushrooms, and celery, the recipe also calls for sorghum, a bottle of chop suey sauce, and “1 Can (Chinese) Chop Suey Vegetables.”

And the spellings—well, I shouldn’t talk. I’m an editor, and if it weren’t for the difficulties of writing in our language, I wouldn’t have a job. But I did almost snicker when I saw Leota’s big heading on one page: “Schrimp Salad.” She noted she got the recipe from a Mrs. Kimmel.



But no matter who decided to spell “shrimp” with a “c,” I have to bow to her and say, I can’t blame you, if you lived among German-types all your life!

And who wouldn’t spell it “Orange Sherbert” and “Pineapple Sherbert”? Isn’t that how you say it? (Well, against all reason, that’s how we say it around here!) And we’re not going to laugh at “Angle Food Cake,” because people still make that mistake nowadays, even people who “know better,” because we rely too much on our spell-checkers. And Mrs. Busch was a busy woman!

But I did finally laugh out loud when I saw the following recipe. I haven’t tried it yet, and I certainly wouldn’t serve it to any actual Arabs:




Arabian Stew

6 Pork chops placed in casserole after being seared.
1 slice onion on each chop
1 slice tomato on each,
1 ring green pepper on each,
1 tablespoon rice in pepper ring.
Salt and pepper.
3 cups hot water and bake.

Use raw rice.



Yes! Pork chops! It’s Arabian stew with pork chops! I hope you’re laughing, now, too!

Meanwhile, there are some awesome-looking recipes, too, no matter how they’re spelled or whose ethnicity they stumble over: “Carmel ice cream” must’ve been a favorite, as there are two versions of it.

. . . There was one recipe, though, that I had to try. According to the note at the end of the recipe, it had been given to her by Maryfrances Schwartz. Imagine my surprise, when it registered that that is the maiden name of a woman who was my closest friend my grandparents’ age.



Mrs. Ridgeway—Maryfrances Ridgeway—lived in my Columbia neighborhood when I grew up, and soon after her husband passed away, we became friends.

She owned a large tract of land. She rented the fields to others to grow soybeans, corn, and sorghum. (Or was it millet?) The forested areas were the magical green places of my childhood. The places I would go to think, to explore outside and in.

Her property was basically where the Columbia Menard’s is, and her lake—Lake Ridgeway—was bulldozed and remade into Bass Pro Shop’s “test drive your boat” lake.

Mrs. Ridgeway’s long gone, and I miss being able to ride my bike down the gravel lane to her house and talk to her. We used to talk for hours.

She’d grown up in Jefferson City, here in this Munichburg neighborhood, only a few blocks from where I’m typing this right now. She must’ve been friends with Leota Busch before marrying George Ridgeway and moving to Columbia.

. . . And so I had to make the recipe.

My next post will tell you how it turned out.