Comfort me good
When the dog sheds on freshly washed white pillow cases, when the cat turns that cranny behind the computer table into her indoor commode, when that final, intractable cold germ sets up shop in your sinuses and refuses to leave, it’s time for comfort food.
Comfort foods (or so they say) have everything to do with two things: childhood memories, and that sweet/fat combo that acts as an instant stress-reliever (well, at least until the next trip to the scales). Mac and cheese, chicken soup, a big dish of chocolate ice cream… All good, but when I reached back to my own childhood, I couldn’t come up with a solid list of traditional comfort foods. Instead, I remembered two things: One, the daily after-school snack of saltines and Nestlé’s Quick, and two, cottage cheese and shrimp stuffed blintzes.
Both involved ritual. The first began with a tumbler. Not any tumbler, but a Coca Cola tumbler — the kind with the stained-glass pattern in black and red (free at Chevron stations everywhere!). The key to the snack was this: fill the tumbler with milk, then dump heaping spoonfuls of Quick into the milk and watch as the lumps of chocolate drizzle to the bottom. Do not stir until the layer of chocolate almost reaches the lower edge of the stained-glass pattern. Add two more heaping teaspoons of Quick, then stir — carefully — so as not to disturb the inch-thick of chocolaty goodness. This is your dessert. Set tumbler of Quick onto the arm of the couch, next to a stack of saltines, at least eight crackers high. (Ten, if you can manage to keep them from toppling.) Turn on the TV to channel 12, and enjoy the afternoon of Gilligan’s Island and I Dream of Jeannie reruns.
The second ritual wasn’t nearly so complicated. All I remember is that blintzes were my favorite. I’d beg Mom to make them as often as possible, and when she did, I’d help with the filling (typically cottage cheese, shrimp, and celery), and I’d fold the wrappers and pin them together with toothpicks. The fun came in seeing how many I could eat; lining them up on my plate, then counting the toothpicks at the end of dinner to determine if I’d achieved true gluttony that night.
On Chopper Dave’s end of things, it’s all about the traditional comfort foods: mashed potatoes, pot roast, meatloaf. This past couple weeks of high-stress living we tackled two on the classic list: Chicken and Dumplings, and Fried Chicken in a Buttermilk Marinade.
The buttermilk marinade threw me. It’s just not something I’ve run into before, and I — not knowing the science behind milk (other than whey and I do not get along anymore at all) — didn’t realize that buttermilk was acidic. So, the cook starts with the marinade and I have to ask, will this actually work?
Sure, he says, and goes on to explain about emulsifiers and the creation of lactic acid. I’m lost, two sentences in. “Perhaps we need Alton Brown to explain,” I say.
“But then we’d need actors.”
“Yes, in cow suits, I know, I know. Okay, I’ll take your word for it.”
I do take his word for it, trusting that buttermilk is indeed acidic enough to make a good marinade (after all, yogurt works for Tandoori, right?), but because I’m also into the geekery of it, I google and discover this site, courtesy of a PhD in Biology and Chemistry, that explains it all. And more. Check out the cheese page. Really.
Meanwhile, we’ve got this delicious fryer, all tendered up with buttermilk. Now what? Collard greens and mashed potatoes, of course.
Chopper Dave has a thing about braised greens. Kale, chard, collard greens — he nails it. Seriously, I used to hate the stuff. Maybe it was all that frozen spinach I was subjected to as a small child, or maybe it’s just that Mom never quite understood that adding things to vegetables (and not over-cooking them) can actually make them taste better. Either way, I am now, at long last, in love with braised greens.
And dumplings. Don’t get me started on dumplings. It’s not that I ever disliked dumplings, it’s that I’ve always had the kind made with flour, water, and just about nothing else. Comfort food, yes, but oh so boring. Bring on the thyme and polenta, baby and comfort me good.
Of course, now that I’m writing this, the leftovers are all eaten, and the chef is off at work, cooking for other people, not me. I need comfort and I don’t even have any Nestlé’s Quick to add to a glass of soy milk. Time to seek out dark chocolate, pour myself a nice cup of tea, and daydream about cottage cheese and shrimp blintzes.
Chopper’s Chicken and Dumplings
For broth and meat
- 2 whole fryer chickens
- 3 stalks celery, sliced
- 4 carrots, diced
- 1 large onion
- 4 ounces mushrooms (variety up to availability and cost)
- 3 teaspoons kosher salt
- 2 bay leaves
- 1/2 cup all purpose flour
For Dumplings
- 1 cup all purpose flour
- 1/2 cup partially cooked polenta
- 2 teaspoons baking powder
- 3 tablespoons fresh thyme, minced
- 3 tablespoons melted butter
- 1/2 cup water
- 1/2 cup other flavorful liquid
Method
- Place chickens in a large pot, and add enough water to cover. Place on medium high heat.
- As the pot is heating, lightly caramelize carrot, celery, and onion in a separate pan. Add caramelized vegetables and bay leaf to pot. Cover and bring to a boil, then reduce to a simmer. Season with salt. Continue simmering for 2 hours.
- For dumplings; combine flour and polenta, baking powder, 3/4 tsp kosher salt, and thyme in a bowl. Mix until fully combined.
- Combine liquids and melted butter, and add to other ingredients. Stir until flour is fully hydrated.
- Strain contents of the pot, reserving liquid. Measure 6 cups into a saucepan and return to a simmer.
- While broth is simmering, remove the cooked chicken meat from the bones by hand, and tear into bite sized chunks. (If you want to watch your calories, I would advise removing the skin too.)
- Using a tablespoon, drop dollops of dumpling mixture into the simmering pot. Cook for 10 minutes.
- As dumplings are cooking take the last 1/2 cup of flour and mix it with enough water to make a slurry. Gradually add the slurry to the simmering broth while stirring constantly. Add chicken meat, in order to bring it up to heat. Continue stirring until the sauce gets to the desired consistency.
Braised collard greens
Ingredients
- 5 bunches (in supermarket terms) collard greens
- 1 quart beef stock, or broth
- 1/4 cup pomegranate juice
- 1 tablespoon lemon pepper
- Oil (any kind will do, as well as butter) as needed.
Method
- Cut greens into strips, making sure to separate leaves from stems.
- In a stainless steel pot over medium heat, add oil (or butter), and greens. Toss greens in the oil until all are effectively coated, adding oil if necessary.
- Add stock, pomegranate juice, and lemon pepper. Bring to a simmer and cook until greens are tender. (About 10-20 minutes, depending on how old/young they are.)
April 15th, 2005 at 4:53 pm
yum! Especially appreciated the cheese link - a great find. I endorse the whole buttermilk chicken thing. I have been doing it for a while and even persuaded renee at shiokadelicious to give it a try
April 16th, 2005 at 2:10 pm
I’ve barely begun to explore the cheese page, but it looks great, eh? Chopper Dave wants to try some cheese making soon — I just hope I can pursuade him to start with goat’s milk so I can actually eat the results!