Home Cookin’

I don’t cook nearly as much as I should, nor as much as I’d like to. I have the incredible talent of making something much bigger than it is. Some people call this laziness. I call it over-thinking. It’s probably a bit of both. Maybe mostly laziness. Cooking has always been one of those things that I can justify forgoing without fail. But then, when I do take the time to cook, I genuinely enjoy it. Ah, paradoxes.

Anyway, about a week ago, I was digging through the recipes I brought with me from home, and it got me thinking as well as cooking. I feel like we are all destined to spend our lives attempting to recreate dishes we grow up with that warm us up from the inside and now serve as gateways to simpler times. Regardless of how great a cook your mom or dad was, there’s some taste that makes you think of home. I lucked out with a line of great cooks in my family. As such I’m both blessed with and stuck with a huge number of meals that bring me back home, but also bring me to the point of insanity trying to get them “just right.” Here again my inner perfectionist gets a workout. The outsider has no point of comparison. So many of the Memphis dishes I’ve made for Montrealers have gone over incredibly well, and while I can always enjoy them, there’s something in me pining for that little thing that made it Mom’s s0-and-so rather than mine. Sometimes I can pinpoint it – and sometimes it’s not even the dish itself that’s lacking. It’s the deep blue and white soup bowls with the lids that I miss. It’s the dog barking at my feet. Thankfully, in these moments when I can pick out the memory that’s nagging at me or when I can quiet down the perfectionist, it’s not a sad kind of missing. It’s a way to think back to the small things that maybe you took advantage of way back when.

I seriously miss my mother’s cooking. Both the childhood staples with and the innumerable dishes she’s researched and successfully undertaken since then, even the ones she didn’t deem good enough to repeat. So going into it with the knowledge that it wouldn’t taste “just right” but would, all the same, bring a bit of my family and of my Memphis home up to me, I made taco soup the other night, and I’ll leave you the recipe now, or at least my modified version of it, for you to make it your own. And you’ve got it easy, what without ever having known the best.

Taco Soup:

1 whole rotisserie chicken, torn apart into bite-sized pieces

1 can of pinto beans (undrained)

1 can of red kidney beans (undrained)

1 large can of whole kernnel corn (undrained)

1 large can of tomato sauce

1 large can diced tomatoes (or two regular sized cans)

1 can of Rotel tomatoes (if you can find them – if not, any kind of stewed tomatoes with seasoning or chilis will do)

1 package of Ranch seasoning

1 package of taco seasoning

2 cups of chicken stock

1 cup of water

Fritos

 

Easiest recipe ever from here – throw everything into a big pot (aside from the Fritos), bring it to a boil, and let it simmer for around 2 hours. Top with Fritos in your individual bowls. Makes quite a bit and is awesome the next day, too. You could also make it with ground beef, though I never have. In that case, I’d use three cups of water and no chicken stock. But the chicken version is pretty much perfection, so I suggest that. Anyway – I hope this warms you up on an unseasonally chilly evening this spring. =)

Hot n Fresh Happiness: Biscuits

Can’t go any further without expressing my complete and unfailing shock whenever someone (namely, these crazy Canadians up here) stare back at me blank-faced after I mention spending a wonderful afternoon making biscuits. Yes, this has happened more than once, folks. No warm smile creeping up on their face, no eyes tearing up, full of memories of these flaky bits of heaven. NOTHING. To think that there are people in the world that have to ask, “What are biscuits?” makes me feel like I’ve failed as a Southerner, as if our mission is to spread peace largely by means of our usually buttery and always sinfully good food. Hearing, “You mean cookies?” does not help, let me tell ya. And I’m sorry, but calling them ‘dinner scones’ does not give them enough credit. They are in a league of their own.

Anyway, the colder it gets, the more I crave these bad boys. They simultaneously heat up our wonderful but drafty apartment while at the same time making the place smell of yummyness in such a wonderful way as only a great baking sesh can. Basically, it’s a good time. The process is always hectic but oh so worthwhile. The perfectionist side of me has to take a chill pill as flour spills over and the dough doesn’t come to the perfect thickness. Regardless, the end result has yet to disappoint.

Yesterday was the perfect biscuity day. Nice cold Halloween afternoon. I’ve never been much of a sweet tooth, so I thought I’d indulge not in candy but in biscuits. The recipe I like to use, which I’ve typed up below, comes courtesy of Alton Brown from the Food Network, though my sister and I have a few special somethin’s we like to add in, including cheddar cheese, garlic powder, dried parsley, possibly some Old Bay or cajun seasoning. Kind of going for those delectable little Red Lobster biscuits, for which there are recipes, but I’m not a big fan of using Bisquick. I feel like such a little kid waiting for these guys to finish up in the oven, which seems to take a century though it’s actually more like 15 minutes. Always worth the wait, though. And always best right out of the oven. Burning your tongue has never felt so good.

Southern Biscuits

Ingredients

• 2 cups flour
• 4 teaspoons baking powder
• 1/4 teaspoon baking soda
• 3/4 teaspoon salt
• 2 tablespoons butter [very cold! cut up into cubes]
• 2 tablespoons shortening [or vegetable/canola oil ... or you can just do 2 more tablespoons of butter]
• 1 cup chilled buttermilk

Directions

Preheat oven to 450 degrees F.

In a large mixing bowl, combine flour, baking powder, baking soda, and salt. Using your fingertips, rub butter and shortening into dry ingredients until mixture looks like crumbs. (The faster the better, you don’t want the fats to melt.)

Make a well in the center and pour in the chilled buttermilk. Stir just until the dough comes together. The dough will be very sticky. [This is where I add shredded cheese and spices, before you handle it too much. The less, the better!]

Turn dough onto floured surface, dust top with flour and gently fold dough over on itself 5 or 6 times. Press into a 1-inch thick round. Cut out biscuits with a 2-inch cutter, being sure to push straight down through the dough. [You could use anything here, from an actual biscuit cutter to a round cookie cutter to a tin can, if need be!] Place biscuits on baking sheet so that they just touch [or not...]. Reform scrap dough, working it as little as possible and continue cutting. (Biscuits from the second pass will not be quite as light as those from the first, but hey, that’s life.)

Bake until biscuits are tall and light gold on top, 15 to 20 minutes, depending on your oven.

Then sit back and savor!