Nostalgic Sunday Brunch

On a lazy Sunday, after the guests have checked out of the Inn; when John is watching the big screen and the kids are battling it out over Monopoly, I love to rattle the pots and pans. Here are two of my favorite (and simple) comfort food classics.


HAM AND SPINACH ROULADES

24 slices boiled ham, thin cut
2 (10-ounce) packages frozen chopped spinach, cooked, drained
2 cups packaged cornbread stuffing
2 cups sour cream
1/4 teaspoon kosher salt
1/8 teaspoon nutmeg

Cream Sauce:

8 tablespoons butter
8 tablespoons flour
4 cups whole milk
1/2 cup sharp Cheddar cheese, grated
Paprika
Parmesan cheese, grated

Combine well drained spinach, stuffing, sour cream, salt and nutmeg. Spread a moderate layer on each ham slice. Roll up and place seam-side down in buttered casserole dish. In a saucepan, over low heat, melt butter then whisk in flour. Blend well. Add milk and continue stirring over medium heat until thick. Add Cheddar cheese and remove from heat. Stir constantly until all the cheese is melted. Pour over ham roulades. Sprinkle with paprika and grated Parmesan cheese. Bake at 350 degrees F. for 15 minutes covered and another 15 minutes uncovered. Makes 24 rolls; allow four roulades per person. Serves 6.

Wine Suggestion: Beaujolais, Burgundy, dry red

STRAWBERRY BETTY

1 quart strawberries
Juice of 1/2 lemon
2/3 cup brown sugar, firmly packed
4 cups bread cubes, without crust
1/4 cup sugar
1 teaspoon grated lemon rind
2 tablespoons butter
Heavy cream for garnish

Wash and hull berries, mix with lemon juice and brown sugar. Put berries in a shallow
1-1/2 quart baking dish. Mix bread cubes, white sugar, and lemon rind. Sprinkle mixture over strawberries and dot with butter. Bake in preheated oven at 350 degrees F. for 25-30 minutes. Serve warm with heavy cream. Serves 6.

Wine Suggestion: Monbazillac, Bordeaux, sweet white

In the Kitchen with Risotto

I've decided once a week to hang up the tried-and-true; procure an ingredient that I had never cooked with, and let the creativity flow. So many times I fall into the rut of cooking what is familiar...definately the dark side of being a Comfort Foodie! But I've been reading Amanda Hesser's novel "Cooking for Mr. Latte" and today it has inspired me to try "risotto". I once caught Giada on FoodTV's Everyday Italian making a sweet risotto with raspberries for Valentine's Day - which wasn't enough to convince me. I'm the queen of pilaf, a brown rice babe - till now, risotto, has been foreign territory (is it pasta or is it rice ?). Amanda's "Creamy Risotto with Lemon" (page 141) jumped off the page and turned out to be a fabulous initiation. The secret to making great risotto is not to oversaturate the grains with liquid while it is cooking. Only add more broth (chicken or beef stock) once the previous amount has been absorbed. Sticking to this method will conjure a fluffy grain that is still firm to the bite. I adapted her recipe by adding 1/4 cup reconstituted Porcini mushrooms (with the water for soaking) half way through the process and substituted sour cream for the creme fraiche. This fabulous dish was served with grilled wild mushroom chicken sausage, and a simple salad of Vidalia onions and fresh garden tomatoes. Delicious! Italian cooks have recognized risotto as a comfort food for centuries.

Mom's Remedy for the Blue's

As puberty crept up and I became a passive passenger on the roller coaster of hormones, there’d come days that I just couldn’t shake the blues. It was a Jekyll and Hyde scenario that would haunt me for most of my fertile years. I never thought to look at the cause: my body was gearing up for a wham-bam of reproductive activity. I would only treat the symptoms, which were moodiness and the ability to bite someone’s head off. My mother, Champion of Chocolate, held the key to my happiness.
We were driving in her car one night, my mother in that flame red Cadillac sedan Deville, when she turned to me and said, “How’s about a hot fudge sundae?” They were words of salvation as we pulled into Turner’s ice cream parlor. That old building, near Hyannisport, with its clapboard siding and rickety double-hung windows, had been written about by JFK. A yellowed note signed by the former president hung in a frame on one of the “if-these-walls–could-talk” walls. I don’t know if the gray-haired woman who sat behind the counter, in her starched man tailored blouse and apron, was Mrs. Turner—I just assumed it. Both the building and the woman were relics of the “Olde Cape Cod” that Pattie Page sang about. It was decades before Ben met Jerry, and imported ice cream was nothing but fiction. This was honest to goodness homemade stuff, with flavors like penuche pecan, fresh summer melon, and the unicorn of all delights, frozen pudding—a concoction of cream and dried candied fruit that seemed like a cross between holiday eggnog and cannoli filling.
We’d sit in that quaint shop that had never been renovated, to look the part, and be served hot gooey chocolate fudge, the kind where you can almost taste the sugar granules between your teeth rather than the pasteurized goop that floats over soft serve today. A young girl, working her summer job, would open a refrigerator and pull out a large stainless steel bowl with a spatula stuck right in it. She’d give the contents a few turns and top the heavy glass dish that held our overflowing dessert with a healthy dollop of freshest whip cream on Earth.
We made outings to Turner’s a weekly event. Mom always went for the fudge. I experimented with ice cream and topping combinations, growing particularly fond of ginger ice cream with claret sauce. The spicy bits of candied ginger were tempered by the sweet red sauce that tasted more like jelly apples than wine. I brought many of my girlfriends to Turner’s – girls that hadn’t yet found a food outlet for their hormonal highs and lows. I was very surprised when my senior year science teacher didn’t accept my thesis topic on “The Science of Ice Cream and Emotions”. I suppose it was too far-fetched a topic for the times. In 1972, PMS was only an acronym used for “post meridian standard”.
Over thirty years later, mom’s remedy for the blues, i.e. hot fudge, along with its curative powers, still has the ability to pull me out of the lion’s den of emotion.


Mom’s Remedy for the Blues Hot Fudge

4 ounces unsweetened chocolate
1 cup sugar
4 tablespoons butter, unsalted
1/2 cup milk
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon vanilla

Directions:

1. Melt chocolate, sugar and butter in top of double boiler over low heat, until sugar is dissolved.
2.Stir often to avoid burning.
3. Slowly add milk. Stir till blended smooth.
4. Add baking powder and vanilla. Stir till thick

Recipe Riddles - August

In honor of National Peach Month! If you've never tried making this, your in for a surprise; it's the one-pan wonder of the dessert world! Hint: Just what kind of truck is it?