November Project: Two Thanksgivings

Ok, y'all. It is even more dringend - urgent. I am cooking two Thanksgiving dinners this year: my traditional family and friends dinner and a pre-Thanksgiving dinner with a few modern twists. Recipe testing begins immediately. And I think I am going to start here: Mashed Potatoes with Caramelized Onions and Goat Cheese.


Image via Sarah Shatz, Food 52

They look pretty amazing, no? I am drooling. But would they go well with turkey? Or would they be too tangy? Would it be better to stick to something more traditional, buttermilk, garlic.

Sonali's Mashed Potatoes with Caramelized Onions and Goat Cheese from Food 52

Serves 4

• 4 tablespoons unsalted butter, divided use
• 1 tablespoon olive oil
• 1.5 pounds yellow onions (approximately 2 large onions), thinly sliced
• Kosher salt
• 1/4 teaspoon sugar
• 3 pounds Russet potatoes, peeled and cut into 1-inch pieces
• 1.5 cups half and half
• 1 clove garlic, smashed
• 1 bay leaf
• 3 ounces goat cheese
• Black pepper

1. To make the caramelized onions, heat 2 tablespoons of butter and the olive oil in a large sauté pan over medium heat. Add the sliced onions and stir them to coat with the fat. Add 1/4 teaspoon salt and the sugar and cook, stirring frequently, until onions are golden brown and caramelized, about 30-40 minutes. If the onions get too dry, add a small amount of water to deglaze the pan. Set aside.
2. Place the potatoes in a large pot of cold, salted water. Bring to a boil and cook until fork tender.
3. While the potatoes are cooking, heat the half and half, garlic, bay leaf, and remaining 2 tablespoons of butter in a small saucepan over medium heat.
4. Drain the potatoes and return them to the hot, dry pot. Stir them over low heat for 2 minutes until they are dry. Pass the potatoes through a ricer into a large bowl. Gently stir in the hot cream mixture a little at a time until the potatoes are smooth and creamy (discard the garlic and bay leaf). You may not need to use all of the liquid. Set aside a small amount of the caramelized onions for garnish and stir the remaining onions into the mashed potatoes. Crumble the goat cheese into the potatoes and stir to combine well. Season with salt and black pepper to taste.
5. Spoon the mashed potatoes into a serving bowl and garnish with the remaining caramelized onions. Serve hot.

The November Project

At 2.25 years old, my twins are finally at an age when they are beginning to understand and appreciate tradition. They have learned to sing "Happy birthday to youuuu!" although they still occasionally sing it to themselves. They tear into wrapped presents, and show great restraint when watching someone else open a gift. They swarm around the chocolate Santas already stocked in the grocery store and yell, "SANTA! HO HO HO!" before they fall upon them. And as of yesterday, they have a deep love for Halloween, or at least for asking strangers for candy. Watching them divvy up the spoils last night, skillfully bartering with friends to exchange a package of gummi bears for a coveted chocolate bar, I had flashbacks to my own childhood.

After scouring the neighborhood, house to house often through three foot snow drifts (back when it used to snow...), we would reconvene in the living room by 7pm, emptying pillow cases filled with mini Baby Ruth bars, circus peanuts and candy corn, Twizzlers, and the occasional tooth brush from the neighborhood (smart ass) dentist. We'd shed our costumes, outfits that mom often made herself, projects she worked on painstakingly for weeks, and sit by the fire, admiring the towering mountain of sugar we had amassed before mom would make us put it all in a big Tupperware container; she would ration out a few pieces each day, depositing them into our school lunches.

Halloween for me heralded the beginning of the real holiday season - the Thanksgiving/Christmas season. Thanksgiving meant heading up north to our (other) cousins' cottage where we would play football in the snow all afternoon while my mom and aunt slaved away at the stove. We would tuck into the turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, cranberries, green bean casserole and pecan pie around 5 pm, the kids and adults at one long table. I'd have already prepared my soliloquy when it came time to share one thing I was thankful for. We would retired to the living room after dinner for a raucous game of Family Feud, the board game.

My family rituals frame my childhood memories. And now that I am a parent myself, I realize how important it is to carry on these traditions - not only because I enjoy them, but for my children, for their memories. And while they may not really be old enough to remember going trick or treating last night, they woke up talking about it this morning. And when we look at the photographs, we will talk about it again. And when we remind them about the time we carved a face into a pumpkin and got chocolate from the neighbors, they will ask when they get to go again.

And so it is for the kids (and mostly probably, admittedly, for ME), that I begin planning my 4th annual Thanksgiving Extravaganza. For the fourth year in a row, I will squeeze over thirty people, mostly Germans, into my living room and present them with a traditional holiday spread, scenes from the Macy Thanksgiving Day parade and will force them, and some do need serious cajoling, to participate in what has become known amongst past participants as Dankbarzeit, literally, thankful time, and for the record, a German word of my own invention.

Only a madwoman would take on cooking for 30 people on her own and I like to think I still have some of my wits about me. Therefore, I assign recipes to anyone who asks, "Can I bring anything?" Yes, they get assignments. This is not a free-for-all potluck. German kartoffelsalat is NOT allowed on my American Thanksgiving table. Last year, diners paired up and together made a double portion of their assignment - garlic mashed potatoes, stuffings, pumpkin pies, gratins, and more. SO, the November project will be a prelude to Thanksgiving, a love letter to one of my favorite American holidays, and an incentive to prepare my recipes, decoration and logistics. I would also love to hear from YOU - variations on a traditional recipe that have become staples at your Thanksgiving table? A recipe that you tried that was a huge success or a miserable failure? I need to know! After all, I have traditions to create for these two....

Dia de los Muertos

Watching people mourn their loved ones, whether they are drinking tequila while doing it or not, seems like a bizarre way to spend an evening, but we were in Mexico and it was Dia de los Muertos, so that is what we set out to do.

The large indigenous population of Patzcuaro promised all-night cemetery vigils and ghoulish revelry—eating, drinking and dancing with the dead. Hoards of Mexican and international tourists flock to the colonial lakeside town every year, and we were among them—sitting in traffic, miles from our destination. Anxious to get out from under the shadow of the tour buses, we took a spontaneous turn down a narrow road, following close behind a mud crusted pickup truck over-flowing with bright orange marigolds. A canopy of colorful paper flags hung low over the crumbling residential street which dead ended at an inconspicuous cemetery.

Buzzing with activity, the cemetery had a cheerful mood. Families were scrubbing tombstones and landscaping graves with fresh flowers and candles in preparation for a night of remembrance and rejoice with their deceased loved ones. Adoration and tenderness were channeled through their deeds. A vibrant blanket of marigold petals was laid out to welcome the souls home. Our serendipitous turn had derailed us from the spectacle of Dia de los Muertos and gave us an intimate peek behind-the-scenes. Leaving the iconic glamorous skeletons and sugar skulls far behind, we had the privilege of experiencing the true spirit of the holiday.

This post has been entered into the HomeAway UK Grantourismo travel blogging contest for October. We would love to hear your comments.

Breaking Fast

The Fez medina

We didn’t intend to fast. Trolling Fez’s medina during the holy month of Ramadan, we found sweet shops shuttered and restaurants baron. Shortly before sundown, our rumbling stomachs encouraged us to follow a group of Moroccan women carrying Tupperware containers as they weaved through the narrow alleyways. Their final destination: a soup shack.

We nuzzled in between diners at the countertop and were promptly presently with a steaming bowl of harira. Behind the counter, a man stood over a 40-gallon tub, ladling spoonfuls into containers for the women to take home to their families; for those of us who didn’t have families waiting, the camaraderie at the countertop among fellow fasters emulated a familial bond. We spoke little as we sat elbow to elbow, spoons poised at our lips, eyes fixed on the setting of the sun, which was broadcast on the television screen above. As the last glimpse of the glowing orb disappeared, the cook exclaimed “Aiwa - Bismillah!” In the name of God! And 50 people crammed in a closet-sized restaurant simultaneously slurped.

As everyone handed in empty bowls and zipped up jackets, we smiled at each other. The cook asked if we had fasted all day too and when we said yes, the other diners nodded in approval. For a few minutes, we were part of a collective ritual of breaking fast, and in doing so were adopted into a new family - if only for the three minutes it took to slurp a bowl of soup.

This post has been entered into the HomeAway UK Grantourismo travel blogging contest for October. We would love to hear your comments. 

Flying Jacob

Chicken breast + Bacon + Bananas + Whipped Cream + Peanuts +  Chili Sauce = Flygande Jakob, Swedish for Flying Jacob. (Though known in some parts of the country as "Jumping Jacob").

Yes, a Swedish dish. Though the combination of bananas, chili and peanuts made me think, "West African?"

As the story goes, the dish was named for its inventor, Swedish freight pilot Ove Jakobssen and published by his chef friend in the magazine, "Allt om mat" in 1976. It became an overnight sensation and took Swedish households by storm. A family favorite in Sweden to this day, although every family apparently has their own slightly different version of the recipe.

The rather odd sounding combination reminded me of the sandwiches (remember peanut butter and marshmallow fluff?) and casseroles (the excellent macaroni, canned tuna, frozen peas, canned cream of mushroom soup and - the best part - crumbled potato chips - variety) I used to eat as a kid growing up the Midwest.

They may have sounded odd, but they tasted fantastic.

And so did the Flygande Jakob at Café Frau Larsson. The recipe came from Frau Larsson herself, i.e. it is the one Annika's Swedish mother served to enthusiastic eaters at the family dinner table.

If anyone is interested in Frau Larsson's fabulous recipe, perhaps Annika will share it. Otherwise, below is the original recipe, published in 1976 in "Allt om mat" (issue 13).

Original and traditional Swedish Flying Jacob (serves 8)
Ingredients:
4 rotisserie chickens
1 tsp Italian salad spice
4-5 bananas
4 dl double cream
2 dl "ketchupish" chili sauce
2 packages bacon
1 dl salted peanuts

Instructions:
1. Set oven to 225 degrees celsius.

2. Strip all the meat of the chickens and put in an oven pan. Taste the chicken and if needed season with salt and pepper. Sprinkle the salad spice on top.

3. Peel the bananas. Cut them first once in half and then split them length wise making four pieces of each banana. Put on top of the chicken.

4. Whip the cream lightly and mix with the chili sauce.

5. Distribute cream and chili mix over the chicken and banana. Bake in oven about 20 minutes.

6. Meanwhile, cut bacon to small pieces and fry until crispy.

7. Spread crispy bacon and peanuts over the baked chicken.
Serve with a salad and boiled rice.

Delicious!!!

Wednesday Snapshot(s): The Virgin Is Coming! The Virgin Is Coming!

A grumpy, yet surprisingly festive pilgrim.

Yesterday Carter, Oscar and I joined hundreds of thousands of pilgrims in the Procession of the Virgin of Zapopan. October 12th of every year the Virgin returns to her home, The Basilica of Zapopan, from her grand church tour. Starting in June, she visits every church in Guadalajara for a week, inciting mini-fiestas along the way. Her last stop is the Cathedral of Guadalajara and from there she is escorted through the (roughly) five miles of urban boulevards by revelers hoping for a miracle or just a good time. 

Schools are closed for the day and with so many families milling in one relatively concentrated area, the vendors are out in force. There is no celebration in Mexico without an impressive showing of ice cream carts, taco trucks, fry vats, card tables loaded up with slices of flan, wheel barrows pushing containers of fresh fruit, donuts and sticky sweet coconut macaroons.

Due to the crowds, our late start, and the sinful culinary offerings tempting us at every step, we didn't actually make it to the church. My faith was tested by a street taco, and (surprise!) the street taco won! My opportunity to worship in the local tradition of walking on my knees from the gates outside the church to the front pew was blown by tacos barbacoa. (It is said that some walk on their knees for the whole procession, but apparently the die-hards were way ahead of me, because I didn't see any one with such pure devotion.) What I did witness and could totally get on board with was lots of eating and drinking in the streets!

The paper reported a turn-out of 1.8 million people!

To You, Frau Larsson

 

Zimtschnecke at Frau Larsson's

This post goes out to my friend Annika who, last week, opened her own Swedish café in Hamburg, Frau Larsson. In doing so, Annika did something that few of us do: she not only talked the talk, she walked the walk. I've listened to her describe her idea for a Swedish café for the last three years - the concept, what she would bake, the menu, the decor, a location. And I'd  respond with plans for my American style breakfast place - french toast, eggs benedict, etc. And I still talk about it, - that AND my cookbook-slash-test kitchen restaurant AND my import shop with textiles from women's coops in Afghanistan, and and and.... 

But last week, Annika OPENED FRAU LARSSON. She did it. She realized a dream. And I am so very proud of her.

Frau Larsson: Kaffee, Kuchen, Köttbuller - coffee, cake and swedish meatballs. Sounds better in German...

Frau Larsson's sells delicious Swedish specialties like Blabärssylt (that's blueberry jam to you and me)

And Swedish mustards...

And of course, a mean latte macchiato..

Congratulations Frau Larsson! Wishing you many full tables, happy customers and permanent place on the Schinkelplatz scene!