October 30, 2012 ~ Creamy Comfort

I am pretty sure I live a good life. I don't have shiny things to show you to prove it or overflowing accolades or a Butler to get you tea; but I have the love of people who I care about and I know loved ones who want the best for me and worry about me when it rains. Even more, I have have an opportunity in this life to love and worry about others when it rains. And these past few days, boy has it rained on some of my loved ones!

Hurricane Sandy, and some crazy cold front stretching to Wisconsin combined to leave me glued to the weather channel and Facebook so I could see what was happening to my loved ones in their towns and then of course what they had to say about it...!!!  

Because so many of these loved ones are family, I decided to make cod fish stew; it is a recipe that Grandma Bortle brought us; but I believe my Dad perfected it; because I thought he was perfect. So this one is for you, my loved ones...

Just a few ingredients - potatoes, cod fish fillets, onion, garlic, shallots, milk, whipping cream, salt and pepper.

And a lot of butter...hence, the comfort!

Saute the Shallots, onion, garlic and salt and pepper.

Then add your cod fish.

Meanwhile, boil your potatoes. I used red here because I had them and kept the skin on to shake things up. Then combine with cream, milk and cod fish mixture.

I find you have to continually add salt and peeper as it all blends. I also do a butter/flour melted mix in the microwave to help thicken the stew. I do that mixture in the microwave...and am realizing that is all I use the microwave for. 

My dad always toasted white bread, topped it with butter then coated it with the stew. I can just think about it and feel safe, comforted. Maybe it was just my Dad that made me feel that way, but I am hoping it is also the stew...and if I could, I would have it delivered to every one of my loved ones who are dealing with the aftermath of this crazy storm! Or, the aftermath of any other devastation ...and would hope, for you, comfort. 

October 15th ~ Looked Him Straight in the Eye and Lied

Do you remember that crush from high school that you just adored. You thought about them everyday and you dressed with them in mind every morning. You thought they were the cutest and coolest and that they were looking at you just now when you were walking down the hall.You played a different kind of Four Square with your fold out paper game determining how many kids you would have; what your house together would look like and where you would honeymoon. You stood in giddy suspense as they signed your yearbook; feeling confident that "You are sweet, good luck next year" translated to "I am going to marry you some day."

And only in hindsight do you realize that they never even knew you existed.

Fast forward to years down the road; and you run into this boy you spent four good years of your life addicted to. You can't see the resemblance; clearly, the one you crushed on never really existed.

Well I have been crushing on Bob's Small Town Grille in Royston for a few years now. Clearly, high school taught me nothing. Bob doesn't know I exist and I gush over his restaurant and food as if he just wrote "Will you come and work in my restaurant some day?" in my The Professional Chef workbook.

But this past weekend, I ran into Bob and his grille. I couldn't see the resemblance. There was a festival going on in downtown Royston; which can be lent to forgive some of the reasons' the Grille didn't resemble anything I had been crushing on; like the flies covering our corner booth; or the straw, silverware, and pile of crumbs and cracker wrappers I had to step over in order to get into the seat. I mean the day must have been busy; although it is Royston. The festival was a block or two long; not Athfest after all.

There was a limited menu, understandable again; by all accounts this festival was going to bring a lot more patrons then a typical Saturday. Only 5 or 6 items on the menu. I ordered the Jerk Chicken and Black Bean Wrap. My friend ordered a bowl of chili. When our food arrived my friend's chili was in a bowl that it only half filled. Which I didn't really think to judge the portion as much as I just wondered why the bowl was allowed to arrive at a table showing signs of already giving out 10 to 12 test taste bites. There was no garnish, no crackers or cornbread offered to give the chili companionship. And visually; it clearly needed a companion. My wrap arrived on a clear plate with obvious fingerprints all around the plate. Like the glass door at the store after story time toddlers have had their way with it. It was tightly wrapped and straight up cut in equal halves, the wrap that is...and that is as exciting as the presentation was going to get. Part way through the first half I found a tomato; and likewise after I dug through a bit of the second half I discovered lettuce. Which combined made me wonder who ran into who in the kitchen. Before long I could hear Bob at our table asking 'how is everything folks?' oh no; keep your head low Sharyn. 'Good'; says my friend.

'How is that wrap?' counters Bob; I am screwed. I raise my eyes to meet his and I say ~ 'Great, thanks.'

Looked him straight in the eye and lied.

Now I know that I am not intimidated by Bob's Small Town Grille anymore. I don't need to practice different cooking techniques or out do his cheesy grits. I don't need to make a better burger or serve a better table. I saw Bob's Small Town Grill in its bald, overweight, mid life crisis state; the one you don't recognize from your crush. He still doesn't know I exist, I presume; but I am a lot less intimidated by his (restaurant's) existence and a lot less concerned that he ever write in my yearbook (cookbook).

October 6th, 2012 ~ Cooking with Purpose

Some of my favorite memories of my Dad are when we would be driving in the car together and have our own father daughter chat time. I had a catering job this week that, for me, was big. And I so desperately wanted to take a ride with him and have him tell me how I was going to pull it off and that everyone was going to love my food. I wanted to tell him my recipes and ask him if I should add more sweetened condensed milk to the banana pudding or does he think my beans will have enough spice. He was the best cook. And the best part of his cooking was just how much thought he put into the person or people he was cooking for.

The catering job I had this week was for the agency I used to work for. It was their Employee Appreciation Picnic. I knew this food was going to be for workers with genuine hearts for serving others. Workers who live in the trenches with people at the lowest moments of their lives. These workers do not make a lot of money. They don't receive grand accolades. They quietly go about doing the work of angels. So I did my best to channel my Dad and care about each and every one of these workers as I made what otherwise could be phoned in.

They asked me to make potato salad:

When you are asked to make 300 servings of anything, you have to find a way to love it. Maybe it is just loving the opportunity. But I wanted each hard worker to know there was something special about this potato salad. It was especially made for them.

They asked me to make 150 servings of Baked Beans, exact same recipe as last year please; same as last year. That is a complement!

They asked me to make 150 servings of corn on the cob:

I was most excited about this. I thought when I was wrapping it up to take to the picnic this is the most special; no one will see it coming...that white stuff is cheese!

They asked for 210 servings of Banana Pudding:

This is the single greatest dessert I have ever made. Yes, I admit I suck at making desserts. But I really spent time on this. And when my nephew said it was the best thing ever, I knew it was ready to show appreciation to the employees at the picnic.

They asked me to make 105 servings of Oreo Chocolate Pudding:

How can you go wrong!

I enjoyed every opportunity to care for the people I was cooking for when I made these dishes. I understood why my Dad loved to cook so much. When it was time to deliver the goods I could not help but take a couple pictures of my grand finale:

The puddings

And everything else.

My brother helped me deliver the food as it was too much to fit in my car. And when I said, hang on just a minute, I want to take a picture; he asked if I wanted to take all the lids off. I said no; I loved seeing the pans all tightly secured in surprise. I walked away wishing for the all the people who were about to eat my food to feel the appreciation they deserved for the work they do. I hope it tasted like they were cared for. I hope it tasted like I appreciated the opportunity I was given.