Cranberry-Apple Crisp

Some days it’s hard for a chanteuse not to quote musical comedies. I was reminded recently of a line from The Sound of Music to the effect that when God closes a door he opens a window.

Here’s what happened: I became annoyed with myself a couple of weeks ago. I had been eyeing my neighbor Dennis’s patch of rhubarb with an eye to making rhubarb-apple crisp. (Dennis is always very nice about my incursions into his rhubarb.)

Unfortunately, I waited a little too long to harvest the rhubarb. When I lifted up the rhubarb leaves, I found that the stalks had finally given up the ghost and become soggy. The rhubarb door was closed for this year.

And then … I went to the grocery store and saw my window: the first cranberries of the season! So I decided to pair them with the apples instead of rhubarb. Personally, I think this is an even better combination than the rhubarb-apple one. The color is deep and appealing, thanks to the cranberries. And the apples tone down the cranberries ever so slightly; the crisp is tart but not too tart. The cranberries still dominate since three cups of them are denser than three cups of apples.

Of course, I imagine God has better things to do than entertain me with fruit. But I’m thanking him/her/it anyway, just in case. Come to think of it, this would make a lovely dessert for Thanksgiving Day……

Ruby had never encountered cranberries before.

Ingredients:

3 cups (12 ounces) cranberries
3 cups sliced apples (core but don’t bother to peel unless you’re fussy—use a fairly sturdy apple; I used Baldwins)
3/4 cup white sugar plus 1/2 cup later
2 pinches salt
the juice of 1/2 lemon
1/2 cup flour
1/2 cup firmly packed brown sugar
1/2 cup oats (regular, not steel cut or quick)
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1/2 cup (1 stick) sweet butter

Instructions:

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. In a bowl toss together the cranberries, apples, 3/4 cup sugar, the first pinch of salt, and the lemon juice. Spread them in the bottom of a 1-1/2- or 2-quart baking dish.

In a small bowl combine the flour, the remaining white sugar, the brown sugar, the oats, the cinnamon, and the second pinch of salt. Cut or rub in the butter until you have coarse crumbs. My preference is rubbing it in since I’m a tactile cook. Gently spread this combination over the fruit mixture. (It will be a little messy!)

Bake the crisp until it is brown and bubbly, about 30 to 40 minutes. Serve with the topping of your choice—cream, whipped cream, ice cream, or frozen yogurt. Serves 6.

Upside Down in the Kitchen with Cranberries

Expert baker Nancy Baggett recently wrote on her blog that the U.S. cranberry yield offers a challenging message to cranberry lovers:

EAT CRANBERRIES OR THEY WILL DIE! (The cranberries, that is, not the lovers.)

Apparently, growers have gotten so good at cultivating cranberries that they produce more and more of the things every year. If they can’t sell these tiny red pearls, the growers are told by the U.S.D.A. to let them rot in their bogs.

I was taught by mother that wasting food is a crime so naturally I have to help any crimson beauties doomed to end their lives in the bog like some pathetic monster in a horror movie.

I hope readers will do their part as well. Make cranberry sauce to accompany your turkey for Thanksgiving tomorrow, of course. Also please consider serving it with hamburgers, garden burgers, ham, fish, and eggs. Its flavor is as perky as its color.

See how many baked goods you can create with cranberries or dried cranberries this holiday season—muffins, cookies, scones, pies, cakes, breads.

Finally, think about cranberry-based main dishes and appetizers. I am working on a cranberry pot roast for Christmas Eve. If it tastes as good as I think it will, I’ll share that recipe here.

In the meantime, here is a simple cranberry recipe suited to Thanksgiving or any other day in the next month or so.

Regular readers may have noticed that I have a positive passion for upside-down cakes—pineapple, rhubarb, peach. The other day I got to wondering how cranberries would work upside down.

Of course, they were fabulous. The berries provided a tart contrast to the brown-sugar topping.

Enjoy … and happy Thanksgiving to all………

Cranberry Upside-Down Cake

Ingredients:

for the upside-down topping:

1/2 stick butter (1/4 cup) plus a little more if needed
3/4 cup brown sugar
2 cups fresh cranberries

for the cake:

1/2 cup (1 stick) sweet butter at room temperature
1 cup sugar
2 eggs
2 teaspoons baking powder
1 pinch salt
1-1/2 cups flour
1/2 cup milk
2 teaspoons vanilla

My mother Jan and nephew Michael toast the holiday with a nonalcoholic cranberry cocktail.

Instructions:

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.

First make the topping (which goes on the bottom).

Melt the butter in a skillet—a 9- or 10-inch cast-iron skillet, if possible. Stir in the brown sugar and cook, stirring, until it melts and bubbles—3 to 4 minutes.

If your brown sugar is old, it may have trouble melting properly, in which case you’ll need to add a little more melted butter to it. Try to avoid this if you can; the cake is rich enough without it! I was recently stuck with old sugar, however, and had to punt.

If you’re using the cast-iron skillet you may continue with the recipe at this stage and cook the cake in the skillet. If not, transfer the brown-sugar mixture into a 9- or 10-inch round cake pan. Spread it through the bottom of the pan. Arrange the cranberries on top as artistically as you can.

In a separate bowl cream together the butter and sugar. Beat in the eggs, 1 at a time, beating well after each addition. Beat in the baking powder and salt.

Add the flour and milk alternately, beginning and ending with the flour. Stir in the vanilla.

Spoon the batter over the cranberries in the cake pan or skillet, and place the pan in the oven. Bake until the cake tests done (in about 40 minutes).

Let the cake stand for 10 minutes; then invert it onto a serving plate. You may need help with this if you use the cast-iron skillet as it feels a bit heavy during the inverting process.

This cake is best served slightly warm with or without a little whipped cream.

Serves 6 to 8.

Cranberry Salsa and Procrastination

Regular readers may have been wondering, “When the heck is Tinky going to get around to Thanksgiving?”

I’m a last-minute girl in a last-minute family, I’m afraid. So we’re only now starting—and I do mean starting—to talk about the menu for next Thursday.

In case you can’t wait until Wednesday night at midnight for suggestions, here are a few posts from the past to enhance your Thanksgiving plans (many more can be found on this blog!):

Cyndie’s Cheesy Corn Pudding
Roasted Brussels Sprouts
Cider-Maple Vinaigrette
Cranberry Waldorf Salad
Parker House Rolls
Hush Puppy Pudding AND Cranberry Chiffon Pie
Cranberry Apple Crumb Pie
Pumpkin Gingerbread Pudding
and my personal favorite, Cranberry Cream Puffs

As we contemplate contemplating Thanksgiving my family members are enjoying a combination of two of our favorite foods, cranberries and salsa.

The salsa below is quite mild. At one time, I thought all salsas had to be ultra hot. Lately, however, my palate is craving subtlety.

You may of course add more jalapeño—even more lime and cilantro if you wish.

We’re enjoying this version right now on chips and on crackers with cream cheese. We may even throw it on the Thanksgiving table next to the turkey and see what happens.

By the way, dear readers, I’d love it if you’d take just a moment to support this blog. It’s a finalist in something called the “Blog of the Year” competition. Just go to the voting station at the Blog Revue and click on “In Our Grandmothers’ Kitchens.”

This is a simple vote; you don’t have to register or anything weird like that. I’ll let you know if I win. Thank you—and now here’s the salsa recipe.

Cranberry Salsa

Ingredients:

2 to 3 scallions, chopped (white part and some green)
1 jalapeño pepper, seeded and diced (more if you like spice)
1 handful fresh cilantro, chopped
the juice of 1 lime
3/4 teaspoon sea salt
2 cups homemade whole-berry cranberry sauce (I could give you the recipe, but honestly it’s on the side of most bags of cranberries; just add a pinch of salt to the basic formula)

Instructions:

In a medium bowl combine the scallions, pepper, cilantro, and lime juice. Stir in the salt, then the cranberries.

Mix thoroughly. Chill, covered, for at least 1 hour before serving.

Makes about 2-1/2 cups.

Miss Mogli is not sure what to make of cranberry salsa. The human members of the Weisblat family love it.

Oscar of the Waldorf (and Waldorf of the Tinky)

It has taken me several days to recover from the digestive excesses of Thanksgiving. I went to the store yesterday to buy milk and turned a little green when I saw the cream lurking on the shelf nearby.

So I have vowed to work on simple foods–salads in particular–to get my palate and waist back into line before the latkes and Christmas cookies start flying around.

The trouble with this strategy is that there are still plenty of leftovers from Thanksgiving in the house. I don’t have any trouble avoiding the desserts (most of them are in the freezer at this point anyway), but I can’t really ignore the turkey.

A few days ago I decided to throw some turkey and cranberry sauce into a Waldorf Salad.

I love Waldorf Salads. Actually, I love the Waldorf-Astoria Hotel, period--the chic art-deco trim, the Bauman rare-book display in the lobby, Cole Porter's piano (surely the classiest musical instrument in the world!), the charming waiters and receptionists.

My friend Chikako was married there many years ago. When she explained that according to Japanese custom school friends of the bride always sing at weddings I crooned “Let’s Call the Whole Thing Off” with the band. (It was the only song they and I knew in common.)

Ever since then I have dreamed of calling my autobiography I Sang at the Waldorf.

I also like the Waldorf’s long culinary history, particularly the legend of maître d’hôtel Oscar Tschirky, who worked at the hotel from its opening in 1893 until 1943.

Oscar of the Waldorf, as he was called (perhaps I should rename my book Tinky of the Waldorf?) created the Waldorf Salad, Veal Oscar, and (according to some sources) Eggs Benedict. He also introduced Thousand-Island Dressing to a wider eatership.

He was known for his flair with food and with people. When asked for a testimonial to accompany his application at the Waldorf, he allegedly walked around Delmonico’s Restaurant (his previous workplace) asking his favorite customers to sign the glowing letter of recommendation he himself had written.

The signatures–supposedly from such luminaries as entertainer Lillian Russell, businessman/gourmand Diamond Jim Brady, and railroad executive George Jay Gould–did the trick, and Oscar Tschirky became Oscar of the Waldorf.

A delightful 1931 profile called "Oscar the Epicure" enthused, "Whenever people, in America at least, speak of the art of eating, they invariably mention Oscar."

The profile appeared in a book by Edward Hungerford (published by G.P. Putnam's Sons) titled The Story of the Waldorf-Astoria. (The first edition was published in 1925; I don't know whether the 1931 edition was identical or not.) You may read more of the profile and the book on either of these wonderful web sites: Old and Sold and Boldt Castle.

Oscar believed in the craft of menu construction and amassed an extensive menu collection, which he left to Cornell University's School of Hotel Administration along with his personal papers.

I feel that I have a tenuous connection to Oscar Tschirky through my brother David, who frequently sojourns at the Waldorf on business. We actually often refer to David in the family as “Mr. Waldorf-Astoria.”

The nickname is a tribute not to his connection to the hotel but to his extravagant tastes. My Great-Aunt Charlotte used to call my grandfather the same thing because she thought he had rather “la dee da” ways. (He did, but we loved him anyway–and we love my brother.)

I could write a lot more about Oscar and David and the Waldorf, but this essay has already meandered on longer than a blog post is supposed to. So let me return to the topic of my turkey–or rather Tschirky–salad.

A Waldorf Salad has many virtues. It’s a cinch to throw together. It uses fresh ingredients one has on hand for much of the year. And it illustrates some of the properties that make those ingredients so wonderful.

Apples, celery, and walnuts are crunchy foods. It’s only when eating them together in a salad, however, that one realizes that they’re crunchy in different but complementary ways.

My Thanksgiving salad (also a great idea for Christmas) adds the softness of turkey and the rich red hue of cranberry sauce to this classic dish. I have to admit that the color of the mixture startled me a bit. It’s a very mid-20th century shade of pink.

I’ve always been one to embrace garishness, however. Oscar of the Waldorf had a flamboyant side. Why shouldn't I?

You're the top. You're a Waldorf salad.
You're the top. You're a Berlin ballad........

Garish Thanksgiving Salad from Tinky of the Waldorf

Ingredients:

1/4 cup mayonnaise (low-fat is fine)
2 tablespoons whole-berry cranberry sauce plus a bit more later
the juice of 1/2 small lemon
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 firm apple (I used a gala), cored but not peeled, cut into bite-size chunks
1/2 cup walnut pieces, toasted for a few minutes in a small cast-iron pan (toss while doing this!) to release the oils
2 stalks celery, cut up
1/4 cup dried cranberries (you may use raisins, but these extend the holiday theme)
3/4 cup pieces of leftover turkey meat
lettuce as needed

Instructions:

In a bowl combine the mayonnaise, the 2 tablespoons cranberry sauce, the salt, and half of the lemon juice.

Sprinkle the rest of the lemon juice on the apple pieces and toss gently.

In a larger bowl combine the apple pieces, most of the nuts (save out just a tablespoon or so), the celery, the cranberries, and the turkey. Add the mayonnaise mixture and stir until everything is a bit pink.

Line a serving plate or bowl with a bed of lettuce, and place the salad on top.

Sprinkle the remaining nuts on the top, and put just a dab of additional cranberry sauce smack in the middle (because you need EVEN MORE COLOR!).

Serves 2 generously.

Cranberry Heaven (Cranberry Cream Puffs)

My family and I celebrated Thanksgiving this year at my mother’s home in New Jersey. We hosted a small party on Friday that concentrated on appetizers and desserts.

We served a very small main course (stuffed shells and salad), surrounded by delectable non-“serious” foods. We began the evening with shrimp, bruschetta, lots and lots of cheeses, hummus, my chipotle cranberry sauce, and nibbly nutty snacks.

Later I unveiled my favorite new creation: tiny cranberry cream puffs.

I was inspired to make them by reading about the annual Cranberry Festival in Warrens, Wisconsin.

Warrens doesn’t have a large population. About as many people live there, in fact, as in my tiny hometown of Hawley, Massachusetts (just under 400).

Each September, however, more than 100,000 people visit Warrens for a weekend-long tribute to the town’s signature crop, cranberries.

The festival features marsh tours, sales, a parade, a variety of contests, and of course lots and lots of foods made with cranberries.

Festival manager Kim Billiard sent me The Best of Cranfest. This cookbook offers recipes for cakes, salads, sauces, muffins, and meat dishes (to name a few) using fresh or processed cranberries. I plan to make and post one of these in the near future.

Kim admitted, however, that she didn’t have the recipe for the special cranberry confection I had read about online—the cranberry cream puffs sold each year by the local Sweet Adelines. She put me in touch with Mary Castner of the Sweet Adelines. I asked Mary how she made these treats.

“There really isn’t a recipe,” Mary told me. “All we do is we whip a quart of cream. And after it’s whipped we take jellied cranberries, and we mush them up. And we just swirl about a half a cup of them into the cream.”

She added that the group adds sugar and vanilla to the cream as well and explained that the Adelines put the filling into commercial frozen puffs to ensure uniformity.

“We sell a lot of them,” she asserted.

I decided to make my own cream puffs instead of buying frozen ones (I scoff at uniformity!) and found a simple recipe at the King Arthur Flour web site.

My nine-year-old nephew Michael helped me put them together. He worried a little about his ability to shape the puffs. “I’m not good with spoons,” he declared.

Michael really loved the idea of eating cranberry cream puffs, however, so he conquered his spoon phobia.

Michael stirs the puffs.

I was pretty sure I wanted a higher cranberry/cream ratio than 1/2 cup to 1 quart. So I upped the cranberry ante in our cream puffs.

The resulting puffs were, in Michael’s words, “just about perfect.”

The filling isn’t super stable so guests were encouraged to assemble their own puffs. Some chose a classic cream puff and hid a small amount of filling inside their puffs. Some slathered on the filling so you could see it a mile away.

My friend Wendy told me they were the highlight of her Thanksgiving weekend.

I urge you all to try them this holiday season. They’re easy. They’re festive (SO PINK!). And they’re sheer heaven to eat.

I also urge you to vote for them in the Bon Appétit Holiday Dessert Bake-Off. Bon Appétit magazine is collecting holiday recipes from bloggers all over the United States and asking readers to vote for them.

I know my chances of winning are slight; the contest began on November 1, and I’ve only just discovered it. It never hurts to try, however!

Here’s the link for voting (you have to register in order to vote, but you DO NOT have to subscribe to the magazine). I'm listed in the final category, "miscellaneous desserts."

Voting ends December 13.

Thank you! Now, here's the recipe, It looks long, but it's really a cinch........

Ingredients:

for the jellied cranberries:

1 cup water
1 cup sugar
12 ounces cranberries

for the cream puffs:

1 cup water
1/2 cup (1 stick) sweet butter
1-1/4 cups flour
1/4 teaspoon salt
4 large eggs at room temperature (place them in warm water for a few minutes to achieve the right temperature)

for the filling:

2 cups heavy cream
confectioner’s sugar and vanilla to taste (we used about 1/4 cup sugar—maybe a little more--and 2 teaspoons vanilla)
1 recipe jellied cranberries

for assembly:

a small amount of confectioner’s sugar (optional)

Instructions:

for the jellied cranberries:

Make the jellied cranberries early—ideally the day before—so they will have plenty of time to cool and jell. Yes, of course, you MAY use canned jellied cranberry sauce. It won’t taste as good as the fresh version, however; the canning process and the high-fructose corn syrup in most cans diminish the flavor. And making the stuff is pretty darn easy.

In a medium saucepan combine the water and sugar and bring them to a boil. Add the cranberries, and return the mixture to a boil. Reduce the heat, and boil the sauce for 10 more minutes. (If it gets too fuzzy, add a tiny bit of butter.)

Remove the sauce from the heat, and push it through a stainless-steel strainer. You’ll end up with about 1-1/2 cups of sauce and a small amount of solid matter; you may discard the latter.

Cool the sauce, covered, at room temperature; then refrigerate it until you are ready to assemble your cream puffs.

for the puffs:

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees. Lightly grease two cookie sheets or line them with silicone. (King Arthur Flour suggests using parchment sheets, but mine singed a bit in the hot oven.)

In a medium saucepan bring the water, butter, and salt to a rolling boil. Throw in the flour all at once. Using a wooden spoon stir it in quickly until it becomes smooth and follows the spoon around the pan. Remove the pan from the heat.

Let it rest until it is cool enough so that you can stick your finger in and hold it there for a few seconds (this takes about 5 minutes).

Place the dough in a mixer bowl, and beat in the eggs, one at a time, beating vigorously after each egg. Make sure you continue beating for 1 minute after the last egg goes in. The dough will be stiff.

Drop teaspoonsful of dough onto the cookie sheets, leaving enough space between them so the puffs can expand to golf-ball size in the oven.

Bake the puffs until they puff and begin to turn a light golden brown. (King Arthur Flour estimated this at 20 minutes; my oven is a little hot so it took only 15 for me.)

Remove them from the oven and quickly use a sharp knife to cut a small slit in the side of each puff. (This keeps the puffs from getting soggy.) Return them to the oven for 5 more minutes.

Remove the puffs from the oven and cool them on wire racks. If your oven is hot like mine and you have burned the bottoms slightly, use a sharp knife to remove the blackened portions.

for the filling:

Just before you are ready to assemble your puffs, whip the cream until it is thick and forms nice peaks, adding the sugar and vanilla toward the end of this process.

Use a mixer or whisk to break up the jellied cranberry sauce into a thick liquid (instead of a solid). Gently fold it into the whipped cream.

for assembly:

Carefully cut open each puff in the middle; you will find that each of them has what King Arthur Flour calls a “natural fault line.”

Decorate the bottom of each puff with the cranberry-cream mixture and replace the top. Sprinkle a little confectioner’s sugar on top if desired.

Makes about 40 cream puffs.

Mother Jan was queen of the cream-puff party.

Thanksgiving Report: Cranberry Apple Crumb Pie

Aunt Lura (in seasonal headband) poses with the cranberry apple pie.

Like most Americans, my family can’t imagine Thanksgiving without pie. My Aunt Lura volunteered to bring a pumpkin creation to our table Thursday so our side of the family only had to make two pies.

(Of course, we didn’t actually have to make even two since we were feeding only eight people, but what is Thanksgiving without excess?)

We knew my honorary cousin Eric was coming so we baked our favorite key-lime pie. Eric is the nephew of my late wonderful semi-godmother Dagny Johnson, who lived on Key Largo, so we HAD to celebrate the Florida Keys.

(You can read more about Dagny and get the key-lime pie recipe in this post from April.)

We also wanted to celebrate our local bounty so we made another pie with two fruits native to both my home state, Massachusetts, and mother’s home state, New Jersey—apples and cranberries.

I had the not very bright idea of making the pie crust with apple cider instead of water to enhance the apple flavor. It DID help the flavor. It also made the crust much harder to manage! So I don’t suggest it. Just use your standard pie crust.

In fact, I’m thinking another time I might eschew the pie crust altogether and call the dish Cranberry Apple Crumble. (If I do, I’ll let you know how it turns out.)

Aside from the sticky crust, everything about this pie proved a success—the apple-cranberry ratio, the rich crumb topping, the contrasting textures. My family highly recommends it.

The Pie

Ingredients:

3/4 cup sugar
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1 pinch salt
1 tablespoon flour plus 1/2 cup later
3 medium apples, peeled, cored, and sliced
2 cups cranberries
1 9-inch pie crust

1/2 cup oatmeal (regular, not quick)
1/2 cup firmly packed brown sugar
1/2 cup (1 stick) sweet butter (you could probably get by with less, but THIS WAS THANKSGIVING FOR GOODNESS’ SAKE!)

Instructions:

Preheat the oven to 425 degrees. In a medium bowl combine the sugar, cinnamon, salt, and tablespoon of flour. Add the fruit and toss to combine. Pour this mixture into your pie shell.

In another bowl combine the remaining flour, the oatmeal, and the brown sugar. Cut in the butter. Pour this crumbly topping over your pie.

Bake the pie for 10 minutes; then reduce the oven temperature to 350 and continue baking for 30 more minutes. Serves 8.

Cranberry Corner (Cranberry Chipotle Sauce)

As I type this Tuesday evening I am surrounded by red. I’ve been playing with cranberries today. I can’t resist their deep, rich color and their sweet/tart flavor.

I tried making cranberry vinegar (NOT a success–I’ll try again next Thanksgiving).

I made jellied cranberry sauce for the cranberry cream puffs my family plans to serve at a party on Friday (recipe to follow).

And I made gorgeous, delectable cranberry chipotle sauce.

I’m not serving it with the turkey on Thanksgiving; my family would rebel! (I will try it with meat or poultry one of these days, however.)

Instead, it’s scheduled to accompany crackers and soft cheese as an appetizer for Friday’s party.

Naturally, my family had to try it this evening. After all, we wouldn’t want to serve something to guests that didn’t pass our own test. And to tell you the truth, I tried making it last year with limited success. I diluted the basic cranberry and chipotle flavors with too much onion and garlic.

A cook shouldn’t mess with her cranberries!

Now that I have learned that lesson, here is the simple recipe. You don’t have to make this sauce for Thanksgiving–but it might inspire you to host your own party this weekend (or just sit at home and eat it with leftover turkey).

Have a wonderful day……….

Cranberry Chipotle Sauce

Ingredients:

1 cup water
1 cup sugar
1 12-ounce bag cranberries
2 chipotles in adobo (out of a can), finely chopped, plus about 1 teaspoon adobo sauce from the can

Instructions:

In a nonreactive saucepan combine the water and sugar over medium heat, stirring constantly until the sugar dissolves. Bring the mixture to a boil.

When the sugar water is boiling stir in the chopped chipotles, sauce, and cranberries.

Return the mixture to a boil, reduce the heat, and simmer for 10 minutes (stir occasionally).

Pour the sauce into a bowl, cover it, and let it cool to room temperature. Refrigerate until ready to use.

Makes about 2 cups.

(I told you it was easy!)

Pumpkin Pie Plus

As a child I was the only member of my family who didn’t gravitate toward pumpkin pie on Thanksgiving. The custard filling was just a little too smooth for me.

As a grown up I am more enthusiastic, although the consistency still tends to flummox me. The recipe below solves the consistency issue by addiing other textures to the custard’s custardiness.

The flavors it adds don’t hurt, either!

The pie looks appropriatel festive in my pumpkin-shaped pan from Wilton, but you may of course use a standard pie pan. Here’s the recipe………..

Ingredients:

1-1/2 cups pumpkin or winter squash puree
1/2 cup white sugar
1/2 cup brown sugar, firmly packed
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon ginger or allspice (or a bit of each)
1 cup evaporated milk
1/2 cup water
2 eggs
2/3 cup caramels
3 tablespoons cream
1 handful toasted pecans
1 handful toasted coconut
1 9-inch pie shell

Instructions:

Preheat the oven to 425 degrees. Whisk together the pumpkin, sugars, spices, milk, water, and eggs. Place the combination in the unbaked pie shell. Bake for 10 minutes; then reduce the heat to 350 degrees and bake for another 30 to 40 minutes, or until firm. Allow the pie to cool for a few minutes.

In a small saucepan combine the caramels and cream. Cook over low heat, stirring constantly, until they melt together.

Drizzle the caramel mixture over the pie, and top with the pecans and coconut. (If you’d rather save some caramel to drizzle over the top, please do so!)
Serves 6 to 8.

Pie in the Sky

You will eat bye and bye
In that glorious land above the sky.
Work and pray, live on hay,
You’ll get pie in the sky when you die.

– Joe Hill, “The Preacher and the Slave”

With Thanksgiving just around the corner, I’m ready to devote a few words to pie. Turkey is the center of the traditional Thanksgiving dinner. Cranberries are the jewels that adorn the table. But pie is the not-to-be-missed culmination of this late November feast. It arrives with fanfare and seldom disappoints eaters.

Why pie? Like Thanksgiving itself it’s old fashioned. And (again like Thanksgiving itself) it represents a fair amount of work. Most of us don’t roll out pie crust every day so when we do it’s an event. At their best Thanksgiving pies are a family effort, made with love and many hands.

Pie is also ideal fare for this time of year when skies darken and breezes blow. It fills us, warms us, and comforts us as November chills our bones.

So—my next couple of posts will be pre-Thanksgiving pie recipes. The first one actually isn’t precisely for Thanksgiving proper since it’s a main-dish pie made with ham. (I’m always willing to stray from turkey, but I find that my family simply won’t consider any other main dish.)

It would be great for Thanksgiving Eve, however, or for one of those days after Thanksgiving when you just can’t look at a piece of turkey any longer, let alone consider eating it.

This ham pie is adapted from one created by Lucinda Finck of Heath, Massachusetts. I found it in The Heath Fair Cookbook, a staple of my cookbook shelf. If you don’t have fresh herbs to include, you may do without them or use a smaller quantity of dried herbs. The fresh ones really do taste wonderful in the pie, however.

Herbed Ham Pie

Ingredients:

for the filling:

1/4 cup (1/2 stick) sweet butter
1/4 cup flour
1/2 teaspoon salt (omit if your ham is very salty)
1 teaspoon Dijon mustard
several shakes of the pepper grinder
1 small onion, finely minced
2 cups milk
2 hard-boiled eggs, chopped
2-1/2 cups diced ham
1 cup cooked peas
1/2 cup cooked carrots
1 teaspoon fresh thyme leaves

for the crust:

1 cup flour
1/2 cup grated cheddar cheese
1/4 teaspoon salt
a handful of parsley, minced
1/4 cup cold butter
2 to 3 tablespoons cold water

Instructions:

Preheat the oven to 425 degrees.

First prepare the filling: melt the butter. Blend in the flour, salt, mustard, and pepper. Add the onions and milk. Cook until thick.

Stir in the ham, egg pieces, vegetables, and thyme. Pour the filling into a 2-quart casserole dish.

Next, make the pastry: in a bowl combine the flour, cheese, salt, and parsley. Cut in the butter. Add the water until it forms a ball, and gently roll it out on a lightly floured board until it is large enough to cover the casserole dish. Place it on top.

Bake the pie for 20 to 30 minutes, until most of the crust is golden brown and the filling bubbles. Serves 4 to 6.

Giving Thanks (Part II)

The king and high priest of all the festivals was the autumn Thanksgiving. When the apples were all gathered and the cider was all made, and the yellow pumpkins were rolled in from many a hill in billows of gold, and the corn was husked, and the labors of the season were done, and the warm, late days of Indian Summer came in, dreamy, and calm, and still, with just enough frost to crisp the ground of a morning, but with warm traces of benignant, sunny hours at noon, there came over the community a sort of genial repose of spirit — a sense of something accomplished. – Harriet Beecher Stowe

Here are two additional dishes for Thanksgiving (I’m leaving the turkey to you). The pie may look a little complicated because of its multiple layers. It’s quite simple, however, and can be made the day before. The second layer comes out a lovely pink. Enjoy

Hush Puppy Pudding

In an earlier post I said that I would come up with a non-box-mix-dependent version of Marilyn Pryor’s corn pudding. Here it is. Marilyn originally used 1 cup of cornbread mix instead of half of the flour, the cornmeal, 2 tablespoons of the butter, and the baking powder. You’re certainly welcome to do that if you have cornbread or corn-muffin mix in the house.

One note: although the pudding looks gorgeous in the flat dish that appears in the photo here, it’s even better in a deeper pan, which keeps the pudding moister.

Ingredients:

3/8 cup yellow cornmeal
1 cup flour
3/4 tablespoon baking powder
1 teaspoon salt
1 cup sliced green onions (I used 1 bunch; it didn’t quite make a cup, but it worked)
2 cups plain yogurt
3 eggs, lightly beaten
3/8 cup (3/4 stick) sweet butter, melted
2 10- or 11-ounce cans vacuum-packed corn

Instructions:

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Butter a 2- to 3-quart casserole dish.

In a large bowl, mix together the cornmeal, flour, baking powder, and salt. In another bowl, combine the onions, yogurt, eggs, and butter. Stir in the corn, and add this mixture to the cornbread combination, stirring just until the dry ingredients are moistened.

Spoon the resulting batter into the prepared pan, and bake until golden brown and set in the center (about 45 minutes). Serves 6 to 8 as a side dish.

Cranberry Chiffon Pie

I’m a sucker for cranberries at this time of year when we crave color and flavor. This pie is a little messy when you slice it, but I hate to add gelatin and make it stiff. If you want to make sure it will slice beautifully, use a graham-cracker crust; that way you can freeze the pie until half an hour before you serve it and keep it solid. My family likes goopy delicious things so we use a standard pastry crust.

Ingredients:

for the first layer:

1 cup sugar
1 cup water
3 cups (1 12-ounce bag) cranberries
1 pinch salt
1 prebaked 9-inch pie shell

for the second layer:

3 ounces cream cheese at room temperature
1/4 cup sugar
1/2 cup of the mixture from the first layer
1 cup COLD heavy cream

for the third layer:

sweetened whipped cream to taste

Instructions:

In a medium saucepan, bring the sugar and water to a boil. Add the cranberries and salt, and simmer until the cranberries pop (about 10 to 15 minutes). Basically, you’re making cranberry sauce so if you have a recipe you prefer feel free to substitute it here. Let the sauce cool to room temperature; then set aside 1/2 cup for the second layer and pour the rest into the pie shell.

Next, create the second layer. With an electric beater, whip together the cream cheese, sugar, and reserved cranberry sauce until they are smooth, about 2 minutes. Add the cream, and beat the mixture at low speed until it is blended. Scrape down the sides of the bowl, turn the mixture to high, and beat it until the cream forms pink peaks (1 to 2 minutes). Spread this layer into the pie shell as well.

At this point, you must refrigerate the pie, gently covered, for at least 3 hours. You may leave it for up to a day, however, if you want to make it in advance. Just before serving, decorate the pie with whipped cream (or serve the whipped cream on the side.) Serves 6 to 8.

I love to whip cream!

Giving Thanks (Part I)

Like most of American history, our national Thanksgiving holiday is rich but complicated.

The myth of the first Thanksgiving at Plymouth, Massachusetts, in 1621 has undergone challenges in recent years, thanks to new scholarship and to the inclusion of more diverse voices in the telling of the American story.

We now know that the celebration wasn’t actually a religious Thanksgiving (which was more likely to involve fasting than eating) but more of a harvest festival. It wasn’t necessarily the first Thanksgiving in America; earlier challengers to this title have been identified in Texas, Florida, Maine, and Virginia. The settlers and Indians were as much keeping a wary eye on each other as offering friendship. Moreover, that event in Plymouth by no means started a regular tradition. The Thanksgiving that we celebrate (including most of its menu) is more or less a 19th-century invention.

Many American Indians justifiably resent the idea of a holiday that celebrates the survival of the English on these shores–and the help given to them by the Wampanoag tribe. Each year on Thanksgiving the United American Indians of New England organize a National Day of Mourning in Plymouth to remember the slaughter, intentional and unintentional, of Native Americans by European Americans.

I don’t want to downplay the importance of any of these challenges to the traditional story of Europeans and Indians giving thanks while sharing the fruits of the harvest in Plymouth. I believe that history is most meaningful when it is most complete.

Nevertheless, I do believe that what the capable curators at Plimoth Plantation carefully call “the harvest celebration in 1621” is an important story for all Americans, both as a real historical event and as a symbol.

As a real historical event it commemorates at least limited cooperation between Europeans and Native Americans. Both before and after that date, the two groups (particularly the Europeans) were indeed trying to wipe each other out. During the early days of the settlers at Plymouth and particularly during the three days of the harvest festival in 1621, however, they shared food, shared an acknowledgement of the bounty of nature, and tried to some degree to communicate with each other. Like personal moments, historical moments may be great without being perfect. This was one such moment.

The Thanksgiving story (not just the real event, but the myth) also shows us what a great people Americans can be together if we try to find commonality and share what we have.

Abraham Lincoln declared the first official national Thanksgiving in 1863, during the Civil War. In his proclamation he urged his countrymen not just to give thanks on the fourth Thursday in November but also to use the day to ask God to “heal the wounds of the nation and to restore it as soon as may be consistent with the Divine purposes to the full enjoyment of peace, harmony, tranquility, and Union.” Thanksgiving is ideally about coming to terms with the good and the bad in our nation—and moving on together.

On a more local level, Thanksgiving brings families and communities together. Like the nation and the world, family members don’t always get along. On Thanksgiving Day, however, we try to share goodwill along with the turkey and cranberry sauce. And we do our best to remember neighbors who don’t always have enough to eat by sharing with them as well, just as the Wampanoag and Puritans did.

As composer Alice Parker wrote simply in a benediction response she created for my own Charlemont Federated Church, “We give thanks. We count our blessings. We share them with all the world."

Amen.

In this post and the next I’ll share a few of the dishes that will grace my family’s table this Thanksgiving. None of them is terribly demanding to make. I hope they help spread the Thanksgiving spirit.

Chef Randy’s Dynamite Brussels Sprouts

This simple, seasonal recipe comes from The Artisan Gourmet by Randy Tomasacci, a book I mentioned in my last post. Randy is the demo chef for Bittersweet Herb Farm in Shelburne, Massachusetts, and his new book blends recipes using BHF’s products with humorous stories from his life and cooking career. This vegetable dish is a real winner and looks gorgeous to boot.

In case you’ve never prepared Brussels sprouts before, here are prepping instructions adapted from The Culinary Institute of America Cookbook: Cut off the ends of the stems. Trim off any withered or discolored leaves. With the stem facing up, cut a small incision in the stem of each sprout; this will help the vegetables cook more evenly. Soak the prepared Brussels sprouts in cold water until you are ready to cook them.

NOTE: If you can’t find the Bittersweet products in time for Thanksgiving and want to make this dish on your own, you may play with ingredients. The oil is a mixture of canola oil and olive oil with lemon oil (you could use zest!), bay leaves, peppercorns, and mustard seeds. You could probably get away with just the oil and lemon. The finishing sauce is soy based with a little water, canola oil, and lemon juice plus a trace of balsamic vinegar and herbs and spices to taste. Again, you could probably cheat with just soy sauce, water, and lemon juice. The overall effect is Teriyaki-like: yum!

Ingredients:

1 pound Brussels sprouts
2 tablespoons Bittersweet Herb Farm Lemon Pepper Oil
3 tablespoons Bittersweet Herb Farm Lemon Garlic Finishing Sauce

Instructions:

Blanch the Brussels sprouts for 3 minutes. Drain them and slice them in half. In a frying pan, heat the Lemon Pepper Oil, and add the sprouts to the hot pan. Sauté the sprouts until they are brown, reduce the heat to low, and add the Finishing Sauce. When the sauce is heated, remove the sprouts in their sauce to a serving dish. Serves 4.