Gourmet, Unbound: July
My grandma Trader Joanna moved out of her house and into an apartment this year. Like anyone who has lived in the same house for 60 years, she had filled it with artwork, papers, tschochkes and memorabilia. Even amongst the junk, there were some great pieces of history, as I found out when I was helping my mom clear things out a couple months ago. On a bookshelf in the study, I found three issues of Gourmet magazine from 1967 and 1968. My grandma was never a great chef, but she was a classy hostess and had some special dishes she knew how to make very well, which she would whip out for parties. She doesn’t remember whether she made any recipes from these issues, but she obviously knew Gourmet was the magazine to turn to when looking for entertainment quality recipes.
For my July Gourmet, Unbound entry, I selected a recipe for ratatouille from the July 1967 issue. Unlike today’s recipes, the recipes in old Gourmets tend to be elegant dishes made in the classic style— no twists or fusions necessary. They are also written in paragraph form with less detailed instructions and fewer steps. This basic, yet delicious, recipe follows in that tradition. It consists of slowly stewed vegetables and minimalist spicing—salt, pepper, basil and marjoram. The resulting flavors evoke the French countryside in their warm, robust, simplicity. Ratatouille makes a nice side dish and a great main course, served with crusty bread and topped with a poached egg. I have been making pisto manchego, the Spanish version of ratatouille, since I got back from studying abroad in Spain in 2003. I may now have to add this French version from Gourmet history to the regular rotation. And even if she never made it, I can always imagine my grandma whipping this up to show off her European flair to the guests at one of her parties.
Ratatouille
In a large saucepan cook 2 large onions, thinly sliced, in 1/2 cup olive oil until they are transparent. Stir in 2 green peppers, seeded and diced, and 2 eggplants, peeled and cubed, and cook the vegetables for about 5 minutes. Add 4 small zucchini, cut in 1/2-inch slices, 2 cups sliced celery, and 5 ripe tomatoes, peeled, seeded, and cut into cubes. Stir the mixture thoroughly, cover the pan, and cook the ratatouille over low heat for 45 to 60 minutes, stirring occasionally. Season it with 1 garlic clove, mashed, a pinch each of basil and marjoram, and salt and pepper to taste. Cook the ratatouille about 5 minutes longer and serve it hot or chilled.
See my other Gourmet, Unbound posts:
June 2010, Potato Salad with Olives and Peppers
May 2010, Moroccan-Style Mussels
April 2010, Shrimp Scampi Pasta
March 2010, Chicken with Black Pepper Maple Sauce
February 2010, Mexican Chocolate Ice Cream
January 2010, Roasted Brussels Sprouts with Garlic and Pancetta
December 2010, Walnut Spice Cake with Lemon Glaze




Empanada Boy and I love ice cream, and unlike some people, we have no problem eating it in the depths of winter. It’s been in the 20s and low 30s for about a week here in New York, but we have still been craving it. Luckily, we got our ice cream maker out of storage when we moved. For my February tribute to Gourmet magazine, I wanted to make a special, seasonal ice cream flavor, so I hunted down a Feburary 2003 recipe for
Empanada Boy and I are ringing in the new year in Evanston with his sister Sous Chef, our brother-in-law Slim McDinner, our niece the Reading Corndog and our nephew Lobster Bisque. Slim McDinner has been busy perfecting the art of curing his own pork products, including sausages, bacon and pancetta. He grinds meat with his Kitchen Aid mixer and ages his creations in the basement utility room. I wanted my January tribute to Gourmet to be a vegetable dish because we had already decided to make handmade pasta with Bolognese sauce (including the homemade pancetta) for our main course. As I scanned the vegetable sides on Epicurious, I noticed a simple, but delicious looking, Brussels sprouts recipe that called for pancetta. At first it seemed like too much pancetta for one meal, but then I reconsidered: How could there be too much pancetta? It is New Year’s Eve, after all.
As most of you know by now, I am still in mourning over the
Empanada Boy was feeling sick this weekend. His appetite wasn’t up to its normally vigorous level. By dinnertime last night, the only thing he had eaten was a few pieces of French toast at breakfast. When I asked him what he wanted for dinner, he said: soup. As I’m sure the Jewish mothers that came before me would agree, soup is indeed a marvelously curative dish. Thanks to Mango Mama, I have a number of great, hearty recipes that I can usually whip up with what I have around. I have been doing some of my own research this winter, experimenting with fish stews.
I found a recipe on the Internet and made it with a few modifications when Mango Mama and Daddy Salmon came to visit. I had some cod fillets in the freezer, so I decided to make the stew again. This time, I added celery and used crushed tomatoes instead of whole ones. The result was a smoother, more tomato-infused broth. Not worrying about Lent and with about a half pound less fish than the recipe called for, I also added a couple of pre-cooked chicken sausages. I sliced and browned these in a separate pan. Other modifications could include adding frozen corn or peas or even adding potatoes. Fresh tomatoes would also be ideal during the summer months. I used oregano and thyme, but other spices could give the soup a totally different flair. What follows is the soup I made for Empanada Boy. Adjust, add and subtract as you see fit.
Rosh Hashanah was last week. And when it comes time for Rosh Hashanah, the one thing that I think of most— apart from services, shofar blowing and atoning for sins— is honey cake. It’s traditional to eat honey around this time of year in order to ensure a sweet year ahead. This is an amazing recipe that Mango Mama shared with me, though it has undoubtedly been traded through many hands. It features just about every ingredient under the sun (except butter because it’s dairy-free). Whisky, coffee, orange juice and baking spices come together in a cake that is light, moist and extremely addictive. All it takes is one bite to make the world seem a little sweeter. Try it for yourself!