Until recently, I didn’t have a lot of respect for paprika.  My mother only seemed to use it when a dish needed “a little bit of color” and then she would sprinkle it on whatever (usually deviled eggs), and it looked nice and didn’t really have any flavor that I could tell. And once upon a long time ago, I had to go to Budapest on a business trip — where everybody talked about paprika and it was everywhere to buy.  So I was all set to become an enthusiast.  I brought back 4 cans of the spice, 2 sweet and 2 hot, all set to try recipes using the “really good stuff.”  Then, literally the morning after I got back from my trip, my husband read an article in the paper about some blight on the paprika harvest—advising everyone to throw away their Hungarian paprika (note:  this really was a long time ago—everything is fine now—I don’t want to be sued by Hungary for asking people to throw out their paprika….) And so I forgot all about paprika for a long time.

And then, a few months ago, I was thinking about pork chops and lamenting how they never turned out tender enough for my taste—and I came across a way to make them that after trying and tweaking a few times–has solved the tenderness problem, is easy, can be make-ahead, and is very nice to look at—using paprika.  What more do I want from a recipe?  Nothing much–and now I have a lot of respect for paprika.

Braised Pork Chops in Paprika Sauce

Serves 4

Preparation time: 20 minutes
Cooking time:  1 and 1/2 hours
Total:  Almost 2 hours

Ingredients:

4 Pork Chops, 1-inch thick
Salt and freshly ground pepper
Flour to coat the pork chops
3 tablespoons olive oil
2 medium or 1 large onion, chopped
1 clove garlic, chopped
3 tablespoons sweet paprika
1 cup chicken stock
1/3 cup heavy cream
1/3 cup sour cream

Preparation:

Preheat the oven to 300 degrees.

Sprinkle the pork chops with salt and pepper and dredge them in the flour to coat them lightly on both sides.  Heat the oil in an oven-proof skillet or a Dutch oven with a lid.  Add the pork chops to the pan and cook them for 3 or 4 minutes per side until nicely browned.  Transfer the chops to a platter.

Add the onions to the oil and cook them for about 8 to 10 minutes or until they are lightly browned.  Add the garlic to the pan and cook another 30 seconds. Move the pan off the heat and add the paprika, stirring until the onions are well coated.  Return the pan to the heat, pour in the chicken stock and bring to a boil.  Return the pork chops to the pan, cover, place in the oven and cook for one hour.  Test the chops with a fork—they should be tender.  Remove the chops from the pan to a platter or individual serving plates.  Put the pan back on low heat on the stovetop and stir in the heavy cream and the sour cream. Simmer for another minute or two while stirring until the creams are incorporated.  Pour some of the sauce over each pork chop, and serve the remainder separately.  The sauce is so tasty that you may want to serve this with mashed potatoes, good crusty bread or noodles—and steamed broccoli is a good vegetable accompaniment.

There are so many cookbooks, so many cooking shows, and so many cooking blogs, because, obviously, for so many of us—the subject of our food is endlessly fascinating.  I have spent many pleasurable conversations (usually over a meal) with friends, recounting food memories, comparing techniques and ingredients for favorite recipes, and good naturedly arguing about the “right” way to do things. Example:   “You mean to say some people put dark meat in their chicken salad?  Oh yuck!” says one of my best southern-belle-raised friends.
The other day, I was flipping through an old cookbook by James Beard, James Beard’s American Cookery, and came across his recipe for a Club Sandwich.  He wrote by way of introduction:
“… It is one of the great sandwiches of all time and has swept its way around the world after an American beginning. Nowadays the sandwich is bastardized because it is usually made as a three-decker, which is not authentic (whoever started that horror should be forced to eat three-deckers three times a day the rest of his life), and nowadays practically everyone uses turkey and there’s a vast difference between turkey and chicken where sandwiches are concerned.”   Wow.
Intrigued by his passion about this, I “googled” club sandwich to see what “they’re” saying out there.  And I find that no one seems to really know where the club originated, although everyone does seem to agree that it is American.  Here are a few of the most-cited origins of the club sandwich:
One goes all the way back to 1894 at the Saratoga Club-House in Saratoga Springs, New York.  The story is that a man named Richard Canfield purchased this gentlemen-only gambling club, and that the sandwich was invented in its kitchen under his watch.
Another is that of the accidental invention of the sandwich by some man, somewhere who came home late at night and hungry, stumbled into his kitchen, starving for something to eat…and the only thing he could come up with was some stale bread (which he toasted) some leftover chicken, bacon, tomato, etc. etc…you get the idea.
And another is that it came from the dining menu of the Club Car of a train somewhere.
All credible…none proven…. oh well.  After all of that reading, I was hungry and it was lunchtime and a club sandwich sure sounded good.   The clubs I like the best include avocado and some southwesterny flavors, and the star here for me is the Cilantro-Chili Mayonnaise.  We enjoyed this with a glass of iced tea and a few potato chips of the thick, kettle-fried variety.

Santa Fe Club Sandwich
Serves 2

Ingredients:

2 Ciabatta rolls (shown) or 4 slices sourdough bread
6 slices bacon
8 slices cooked chicken breast meat (a rotisserie chicken is great for this)
4 thin tomato slices
½ avocado, pitted, peeled and sliced
Romaine lettuce leaves
Cilantro-Chili Mayonnaise (see below)

Preparation:

Lightly toast the rolls or the bread and spread with Cilantro-Chili mayonnaise.  Layer the turkey, bacon, tomato, avocado and Romaine on one slice of the bread, cover with the other, and cut in half.

For the Cilantro-Chili Mayonnaise:
Mix together:

4 tablespoons mayonnaise
2 tablespoons chopped fresh cilantro
1 large garlic clove, pressed
1 small jalapeno chili, minced
½ teaspoon ground cumin

Chicken Divan was the signature dish of the Divan Parisienne, a restaurant in New York in the 1950s.  My mother used to make this from scratch; this was one of her favorite leftover chicken recipes.  But somewhere along the line in the 60s or 70s, she threw out her old recipe in favor of a “much easier” version that relied on mayonnaise and cream of chicken soup.  Of course, it was delicious too, but now that we’re worried about things like salt and fat, and processed foods, recipes like that have to be used pretty judiciously, if at all.  So I pulled out my mother’s original recipe and made it, and wow, was it good.  The fat and the salt haven’t been eliminated, but it’s all made from scratch and well worth the trouble and the calories.   If you’re in a time squeeze, you can make this with a rotisserie chicken.

Chicken Divan

Serves 6

Preparation Time:  30 minutes
Cook Time:    30 minutes
Total Time:    1 hour

Ingredients:

1 large bunch of broccoli, cut into 5-inch spears (I peel the ends a little so they won’t be tough)
4 tablespoons butter
5 tablespoons flour
2 cups chicken broth
½ cup heavy cream
3 tablespoons dry Sherry (optional)
1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
1 cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese, divided
2 whole boneless, skinless chicken breasts, cooked and cut or shredded into chunks (or the meat from 1 rotisserie chicken)

Preparation:

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.  Steam the broccoli for about 8 minutes, or until it is tender, and drain it well.  In a saucepan, melt the butter over medium low heat; add the flour and cook, stirring, for 3 minutes until the mixture is a golden brown.  Add the chicken broth and continue to stir until the mixture comes to a boil.  Reduce the heat and simmer, stirring occasionally, for 10 minutes.  Meanwhile, in a bowl, beat the cream until it holds stiff peaks.  Stir the cream, the sherry (if using), the lemon juice and ½ cup of the Parmesan into the sauce.  Taste and season with salt and pepper.

In a 2-quart casserole dish, arrange the broccoli around the edges, stems pointed toward the middle of the dish.  Arrange the chicken on the broccoli.  Spoon the sauce over the chicken (I like to leave the floret part of the broccoli uncovered) and sprinkle the remaining ½ cup of Parmesan cheese over the sauce.  Place in the oven and bake for about 30 minutes until the cheese and sauce are golden and bubbly, about 20 to 30 minutes.

Brad Kessler has given us a book which combines the literary pleasure of reading words strung together in a lovely, simple, and artful way—with the occasional action of a best selling adventure–and frequent “I didn’t know that” moments of illumination. In the way of Thoreau or Kingsolver, the book is deeply satisfying on several levels.
At the beginning, it draws us into the romantic fantasy that Kessler and his wife lived by throwing it all up and moving from Manhattan to Vermont to buy a farm, raise goats, and make cheese. As Kessler and his wife Donna build their fence, renovate a chicken coop into a goat barn and load their first 4 goats into their vehicle—they are revealed as brave and capable and their growing love, respect, and admiration for their animals is contagious.
Just about every page is a feast for the wordsmith or the sociologist.  Through meticulous research, Kessler has developed a deep knowledge about the history of man and goat and the symbolism and spiritualism of this ancient shepherd and herd relationship.   Interesting facts abound (the kind you read aloud to whomever will listen), as do beautiful turns of phrase, and revelations about living kindly—alone and with neighbors.
At times the book is a real page-turner.  The tending and raising of goats has its raw, gritty, and not-so-nice elements—and the description of the process of goat breeding is both x-rated and hilarious.  And Kessler’s exploration of the ancient nature of man as shepherd is an intriguing facet of our current culture and language.
And finally, the book is a gift to the senses.  The sights and smells of mountains, meadows and animals living their daily lives–the sounds of the goats and the developed touch of the harvesting of their milk are vivid.    The discovery of how goat cheese is made in the most basic, yet skillful way—is fascinating and mouthwatering. And the joy of the two of them sharing their first cheese—laying out the bread and the wine and savoring their first creation…makes you want to run right out and buy a goat, or at least read everything Brad Kessler ever writes.
I highly recommend this book.

Goat Song: A Seasonal Life, A Short History of Herding, and the Art of Making Cheese
By Brad Kessler; 2009, Scribner

Yesterday, we had time to make a nice brunch, –but we wanted something different from our usual pancakes or French toast.  I’ve made a cake before with this mascarpone cream as the filling between two layers of vanilla cake, and I thought it would be delicious as a crepe filling.  It is.   The crepes and the cream and the berries can all be made a few hours ahead of time and refrigerated.  Bring all to room temperature before assembling.  If you don’t have a lot of time and you do have a few extra dollars, you can sometimes buy prepared crepes in your market—not quite as good, but you can put mascarpone cream and berries on a roof tile and it will taste pretty delicious.

Crepes with Mixed Berries and Mascarpone Cream

Makes 12 Crepes

Time:  30 minutes to make the crepes
10 minutes to prepare the berries
10 minutes to make the cream
plus assembly time
Total Time:  1 hour

Ingredients:

Crepe Batter:

1 ½ cups flour
2 eggs
2 egg yolks
2 cups milk
1 teaspoon sugar
¼ teaspoon salt
2 tablespoons butter, melted

Mixed Berries:

½ cup dry Sherry (optional)
½ cup sugar
4 cups mixed berries, rinsed, dried and cut if large

Mascarpone Cream:

8 ounces Mascarpone
1 cup chilled heavy cream
¼ cup sugar

Preparation:

For the batter:  Blend the flour, eggs and egg yolks with a wire whisk.  Add the milk, sugar and salt and whisk together until all of the ingredients are well blended.  Heat a 6-inch non-stick skillet or crepe pan (if you have one) over medium heat.  Brush the pan with a little of the melted butter.  Quickly pour in 1-2 tablespoons of the crepe batter and swirl it immediately to coat the entire bottom of the skillet.  Cook the crepe just until the batter sets—this will probably take about 30 seconds.  Flip the crepe over and cook the other side until just golden.  Repeat this process until all of the crepes are cooked, stacking them on a plate.  If you are making them in advance, place pieces of waxed paper in between them so they won’t stick together.

For the fruit:  In a small saucepan, heat the sugar and the sherry together and bring the mixture to a boil, stirring until the sugar has completely dissolved.   Put the berries in a bowl and pour the hot syrup over them and stir gently so all of the berries are coated.  Let stand at least 15 minutes and up to 3 hours.   (If you don’t want to use the sherry, just toss the berries with the sugar without melting it first).

For the mascarpone cream:  Place the mascarpone, cream and sugar in a large bowl and beat together until the mixture just holds peaks (the consistency of a thick custard).

To assemble the dish:  Lay a crepe on a plate and put a generous tablespoon of the mascarpone cream on the lower right hand quarter of each crepe.  Top with a spoonful of berries.  Fold the crepe in half, then in half again to make a triangle.  Top with an additional small spoonful of cream and berries.

Notes:  The crepes and the cream and the berries can all be made a few hours ahead of time and refrigerated.  Bring all to room temperature before assembling.  If you don’t have a lot of time and you do have a few extra dollars, you can sometimes buy prepared crepes in your market—not quite as good, but you can put mascarpone cream and berries on a roof tile and it will taste pretty good.

Here in Florida, September is still a very hot month.  And while the kids are back in school and the stores inexplicably have started selling sweaters and jackets (which we can’t wear here for about another two months), we straddle the line between feeling like fall and still wearing shorts and t-shirts.  And since it’s Friday, and no one in the family has any plans other than to be home for dinner—we’re having one of our favorite combinations, ribs and potatoes—both slow roasted in the oven—with the ribs finished briefly on the grill afterwards.

Of course, you can serve either of these recipes on their own.  But you’ll notice that both of them require 2 hours of slow cooking at the beginning.  So, this meal is good to make when you’re home for the afternoon, but you have things to do other than cook too much.  And the  smell of the ribs and potatoes that slowly comes into the kitchen while they’re cooking makes everybody feel hungry by the time everything is done.  I like to make a green salad to go along with this meal too—and I serve extra barbecue sauce on the side.

Grilled Baby Back Ribs
Preparation Time:  15 minutes
Cook Time:  2 hours and 10 minutes

Serves 4

Ingredients:

2 slabs of baby back ribs, each slab cut in half (about 5 or 6 ribs per piece)
Kosher Salt
Fresh, coarsely ground black pepper
½ cup of your favorite barbecue sauce
Heavy Duty Aluminum Foil

Preparation:

Preheat the oven to 300 degrees.  Cut four pieces of aluminum foil, each one big enough to completely wrap one serving of the ribs.  Place one-half slab of ribs on each of piece of foil.  Salt and pepper both sides of the slabs.  Wrap each one up with a tight seal and place all four packages on a baking sheet.  Bake in the oven for 2 hours.

Preheat or light your grill.  Remove the ribs from the oven, open each package and put the rib slabs back on the baking sheet.  Brush both sides of each slab with the barbecue sauce.  Grill for 5 minutes per side until the sauce is nicely browned on the ribs.  Remove to a platter and serve.

Slow Roasted Potatoes
Preparation Time:  10 minutes
Cook Time:  2 hours

Serves 4

Ingredients:

2 pounds small white or  red potatoes
4 cloves garlic, minced
½ cup olive oil
¼ cup mint, packed, leaves only, finely chopped
1 tablespoon kosher or sea salt
Freshly ground black pepper to taste

Preparation:

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.

Wash the potatoes well, dry them thoroughly and prick each one with a fork a couple of times.  (You do this to keep them from exploding in your oven.)  Put the potatoes in a roasting pan and roast for 2 hours.  Remove from the oven, cool for about 10 minutes and cut each potato in half.  Put the potatoes in a bowl big enough to toss them thoroughly.

Mix together the garlic, oil, mint, sea salt and pepper and pour over the potatoes while they’re still hot.  Correct the seasoning to your taste. Let the mixture stand for a while—at least 30 minutes, but they can rest longer.  Serve at room temperature or, if you’d like them warmer, run them back in the oven for about 10 minutes to heat them up.