Assortment

Peasant Food: Chicken Alfredo Pizza

  

 

I know. 

Sounds fancy, doesn't it? 

Makes me smile to know that I can get away with it in my Peasant Food collection.  At first glance, it doesn't seem like it would belong, kinda like wearing a strand of pearls with a t-shirt and jeans (have I said that before?), or lipstick while mopping the floor, or high heels while folding the laundry.  But, it's amazing how the simplest things, put together with other plain, every-day things can suddenly cause you to feel like you've jumped the caste! 

Flour, olive oil, salt, cream, parmesan, mozarella, basil, garlic, chicken breast, freshly cracked pepper - there's not much to these things, really.  Purely peasant, they are.  But, there, put together like so, they become something you'll never forget (and neither will anyone else who sees you folding laundry in your high heels).

I was inspired to try my hand at this dish by the memory of one such delicious pizza I'd had in a restaurant once.  That, and being that our neighbors were coming over for dinner, and that I remembered my neighbor-friend also pining over a Chicken Alfredo Pizza that she'd had, too, I really had no choice.  So, I pre-heated my pizza stone, and gathered the ingredients.

Were you wondering what I was making in those pictures yesterday?

 
 
 
Chicken Alfredo Pizza

-makes 2 14" pizzas

 

One batch Herbed Pizza Dough

2/3 cup Alfredo Sauce

4 cups shredded mozarella cheese (more if you like!)

Garlic-Basil Chicken

2-3 scallions, chopped

 

Preheat pizza stone in oven to 450 degrees.  On a well-floured pizza peel, roll out half the pizza dough. With back of spoon or spatula, spread Alfredo sauce around dough, staying 1 1/2 inches from edge.  Sprinkle 2 cups mozarella cheese evenly over sauce.  Rough-chop Garlic-Basil Chicken, and add evenly over cheese.  Sprinkle scallions over chicken.  Bake on a pizza stone in a hot oven for 10-15 minutes. 

 

 

 

Herbed Pizza Dough

2 cup warm water (I use hot tap water that I can barely stand to hold my hand in)

1/2 teaspoon sugar

3 1/2 teaspoons active dry yeast

6 cups all-purpose flour

2 teaspoon salt

3 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil

1 rounded teaspoon Italian seasoning

 

In a small bowl, combine water and sugar.  Sprinkle yeast over top, and stir briefly with a fork to combine.  Set aside to activate.  Within a few minutes, yeast will rise and foam on the surface of the water. 

In the bowl of an electric mixer, combine flour, salt, and herbs.  Attach the dough hook, and stir to combine.  Add yeast-water and olive oil.  Knead until dough pulls cleanly from sides of mixing bowl, adding flour 1/4 cup at a time, if necessary. 

Remove dough hook, sprinkle olive oil over the surface of the dough, and turn in the bowl to completely coat all sides.  Cover with plastic wrap and let rise until double, 45 - 60 min.

 

 

Garlic-Basil Chicken

2 boneless, skinless chicken breasts

salt

fresh-cracked pepper

1/3 cup extra-virgin olive oil

1 tablespoon dried basil

3 large cloves garlic, minced

 

Thinly slice chicken breasts against the grain and place in a shallow, sealable dish, season well with salt.  In a small bowl, combine pepper, olive oil, basil, and garlic.  Pour olive oil mixture over chicken, stirring to combine.  Seal the dish, and let marinate in refrigerator for at least 2 hours. 

In a skillet set to medium-high heat, quickly fry chicken until just cooked through.  Set aside.

 

 

Alfredo Sauce - adapted from The New Best Recipe cookbook

 

1 2/3 cups heavy cream

5 tablespoons butter

salt

1 cup freshly-grated Parmesan cheese

freshly cracked pepper

 

To a 1 quart saucepan set over low heat, add butter, cut into chunks, and cream.  Heat until butter is melted and cream has come to a bare simmer.  Add the Parmesan, 1/2 teaspoon salt, and pepper.  Continue cooking over very low heat, stirring gently to combine, until the sauce is slightly thickened, 2-3 minutes. 

 

 

Peasant Food: Hamburger Cabbage Soup

Somehow, she could make something out of nothing, my Grandma.  She wasn't a fancy cook.  She never had fancy ingredients.  In fact, fresh garlic might have been as gourmet as she got.  And I don't remember there being processed or refined food in her kitchen (except for the past-date Hostess goodies that were given to my grandparents by their friends, the Lees, who were the local Hostess distributors.  Oh, yes, and the commodity cheese.  Never one to waste what was given to her, Grandma did use her commodity cheese.)  Her food was fresh in season, or home-canned out of season.  But mostly, it was pure food, simple food, basic.

Like her Hamburger Cabbage Soup.  I wish I knew what else to call it, because that name doesn't seem all too inspiring, but that's how we've always known it, so I'm at a loss for something else.  My memory of eating this soup for the first time is safely couched in that place in my mind reserved for pleasant, comforting thoughts.  Worn and weary from over 2,000 miles of travel one day, I arrived to my grandma's warm hug and a bowl of this warm soup.  It was fresh.  It was basic.  It was simple. 

It was delicious.  

I've found that it fits neatly into a growing repertoire of food that I've been cooking these last few months, which I fondly refer to as Peasant Food.  Peasant Food is simple.  Peasant Food is fresh in summer, and canned goods and root-crops in winter.  Peasant Food is less at the grocery and more in the pot. 

Peasant Food is this soup.  And I can't wait any longer to share it with you.

 

Grandma's Hamburger Cabbage Soup

 

2 Tablespoons olive oil

1 large onion, chopped

2 large cloves of garlic, thinly sliced

1-1/2 lbs. ground beef, browned and drained

4-5 medium potatoes, peeled and cubed

1/2 head green cabbage, chopped

1-2 15 oz. cans diced tomatoes

4-6 quarts of water or stock

1-2 teaspoons salt and pepper to taste

 

In an 8 qt. stockpot, warmed to medium-high heat, brown ground beef.  Season with salt and pepper.  Remove beef from pot and drain.  Return pot to stove, reduce heat to medium-low, add olive oil, then garlic and onion.  Saute until translucent, 5-10 minutes.  Add ground beef back to pot along with potatoes and cabbage.  Fill pot with water or stock until level reaches about an inch above the other ingredients.  Increase heat to high and cover with lid until it comes to a boil.  Reduce heat to medium-low and slow-simmer until potatoes and cabbage are near tender, about 1 hour.  Add tomatoes, and adjust seasonings.  Simmer until potatoes and cabbage are tender, tomatoes are warmed through, and the flavors have melded, 10-15 minutes more. 

Serve with warm, fresh bread.

Oh, yes, and this soup?  It's one of those that's good the first day, but even better the second!

 

Peasant Food!

Enjoy!

 

 

 

Wintering :: 5

  

Pumpkin Muffins

 

6 cups all-purpose flour

8 teaspoons baking powder

3 teaspoons salt

1 3/4 cup granulated sugar

2 teaspoons ground cinnamon

1 teaspoon ground nutmeg

2 cups raisins, dried cranberries, or chopped nuts (optional)

1 15 oz. can pure pumpkin (not pie filling)

1 cup melted butter, cooled

2 cups milk

4 large eggs, slightly beaten

 

Preheat oven to 400 degrees.  Melt butter, set aside to cool.  In a large bowl, combine all dry ingredients.  Add cooled butter, pumpkin, milk, and eggs.  Stir until just combined.  Spoon into greased or paper-lined muffin tins, filling each cup about 3/4 full.  Bake for 15-20 minutes, or until an inserted toothpick comes out clean.  Cool on wire racks, or serve warm with butter.  Makes 2+ dozen.

  
 

 

Wintering :: 3

One winter's night:  popcorn, hot cocoa, a ten-year-old boy (with his comic book), and his Mama.  

He looked at funnies; I looked at him. 
 
 
 

Christmas: Handmade

Turned out, the Christmas handmades for giving this year took on a bit of a different twist than what I had expected (planned?).  As with any creative endeavor, much gets cut and falls to the editing floor, and, in the end, I ended up making less of the wood, metal, paint, fabric variety of handmades, and more of the flour sack variety.  (But, thankfully, those ideas that got cut this year, will keep very well for next year!). 

 

 
 
Oh, but, there had to be pj pants for the fellas to open on Christmas Eve!  Matching pj pants - it's a mama thing.  But, with flannel going for around $10 a yard these days, I had to find a more economical solution for the fabric.  Enter: my fabulous neighbor who snagged a twin set of flannel sheets for less than $10 for me!  Two pair of pjs from the fitted sheet, one pair from the pillowcase, and that left the flat sheet to become a tablecloth, the perfect backdrop for birthday boys' breakfast feasts!

 

For those handmades that came from the flour sack, I loved using cheesecloth to wrap them in!  It works so well for breads, pies, cookies - especially if the baked goods still happen to be hot - no sweating - and wouldn't you say that it looks so much prettier than a ziplock bag?

This sweet ensemble was a gift for our little neighbor girl.  When I asked her what her favorite things were, she said, "Books, foxes, and purple."  Hmm.  A quick phone call to her mom let me know that a gingerbread house for her daughter to decorate would be very welcome.  So, I went to work baking and building and gave it to her like this - undecorated.  Along with it went a bag full of candies, pretzels, and, of course, purple icing!  (And, yes, there was a gingerbread house for our boys to decorate on Christmas Day, too.)

But, what was I going to do about this girl's book love?  A thrifted book might have been okay, but when I saw this ingenious idea, I had to give it a go. 

(This, my trial run, now hangs on the wall in the boys' bathroom.)
 

And, for hers, I used a thrifted book with a purple spine, to match her purple bedroom!  (I apologize for the 15 second video game ad on that link that you must endure before the instructional video starts, but, I promise, you'll be intrigued to see how this little 'bookshelf' is made!)  

And, I must say, thanks to that little girl (and her family) who loves books, foxes, and purple, our boys remained perfectly distracted with delightful fun and play at her house so these handmades could come to life at ours! 

 

It's Christmas! {4}

Caramel corn and gingerbread!  The caramel corn is just as Molly describes it (in her wonderful Molly way); the gingerbread, though, was a bear until I found that chilling the dough overnight, then rolling it between sheets of parchment and baking it on parchment was the trick.  Next time, I think I'll use the recipe from this book (I could easily be the one to add its 263rd 5-star rating; everything I've made from it has been that good). 

It's Christmas! {3}

 
 

We were running out the door for a play date yesterday afternoon, and I needed a gift to take to our new friends.  Hmm...how about Bran Muffin Mix in a jar?

Perfect. 

Flour Sack Birthdays

  

I'll never forget Clair. 

I met her several years ago, not too long after we'd moved to Alaska as newlyweds.  Her brown, naturally frizzy hair was always going its own (usually wild) direction, and she had a personal style that some might describe as trodden and frumpy.  She and her husband drove an older, dirty van full of their passel of jubilant, fuzzy-haired children.  For most of their life, they didn't have much of what many would consider to be of value or worth. 

But, Clair smiled.

She smiled. 

Hers was that rare sort of smile that is made of abundant sunshine and happiness.  Absolutley honest, and thoroughly genuine, the light of her face was reflected by her up-curved lips and shining white teeth.  Her laughter was easy and flowing, like the spilling and splashing of water over stones in a brook.  Contingent on nothing, her joy was of the finest quality; the essence of all that makes beauty and wealth. When you were near her, you instantly knew that this day, this very moment in time, was the best part of her life.  

I remembered a story, the other day, that Clair had once told me.  It was about their family's first Christmas in Alaska.  They had packed their clunky, patched-up car and, with their toddlers and babies, had driven the very long, pot-hole gashed road that is the Alaska highway, all the while looking forward to a new, and, hopefully, more abundant life once they reached their Promised Land. 

But, nothing.  They had come with next to nothing, and had arrived to find next to nothing.  After some wondering and searching, her husband was finally employed to flip pancakes in the greasy kitchen of a local diner, while Clair spent her days and nights caring for their toddlers and babies at home. 

Soon, Christmas was near and their little ones had that look of delight and anticipation in their eyes.  But Clair and her husband had nothing. 

Then, in the light of that beautiful smile, I'm sure, Clair told her husband that everything would be alright, that the holiday would be wonderful, if she only had a sack of flour.  

A sack of flour.

A few days later, here it came, their holiday, tucked under her husband's arm as he walked through the door, stomping wintery snow from his boots.

With her lilting laughter and splashes of smiles, Clair told me about how their holiday literally came out of that sack; salt dough ornaments for their scrubby swamp spruce, a nativity set molded by little hands, cinnamon rolls, bread, cookies. 

As I listened, a knowing impressed itself into my deepest soul: she was talking about the best time of her life.   

I could see it in her smile.

 

So, earlier this month, when there were birthdays on our horizon, I remembered Clair's smile and her sack of flour.  Literally and figuratively, we celebrated our boys' special days with goodness of the sweet and creative variety. 

 

As you know, there were the number shirts that shouted the newest, most fabulous age to be, a big bang for $0.75 thrift store plain-front t-shirts and freezer-paper stencils. 

 

Then, for a birthday breakfast surprise, there were homemade cinnamon rolls, or donuts, depending entirely on the whim of the mama that morning. 

 

There was a fun activity, or two (almost all of which were free!), that were, of course, wrapped in secrecy until just the right moment. 

We had a family of friends (bearing little gifts) over for dinner and cake, lit birthday candles, sang a chorus of 'Happy Birthday', and gave a couple of simple, yet very special presents to each boy.

 

Flour sack birthdays.
  
We're smiling.

When Life Gives You Oranges...

Make orange juice!

With a few twists of a reamer, an ordinary weekday breakfast suddenly becomes sweetly distinguished. 

Like your Grandmother's pearls with a plain t-shirt and jeans.

 
 
 

When Life Gives You Apples...

Make caramel!

   

 

 

 

Want some?

Caramel Apples

adapted from Wayne Harley Brachman, Retro Desserts, Harper Collins Publishers, 2000

8 apples, any variety, though apples on the tart side balance well with the sweet caramel

1 cup heavy cream, divided

3/4 cup light corn syrup

1/2 cup unsalted butter

1 cup light brown sugar

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

 

Wash and completely dry apples.  Insert a stick into the stem end of each apple.

Line a cookie sheet with parchment paper; sift a dusting of powdered sugar over the parchment to keep the finished caramel apples from sticking.

Fit a heavy 1 qt. saucepan with a candy thermometer.  Over high heat, bring 3/4 cup of cream, the corn syrup, butter, and brown sugar to a boil.  Continue boiling until mixture reaches 280 degrees F (firm ball stage), the syrup should be golden.  Remove from heat and carefully stir in remaining cream and vanilla extract.  Use caution; it may splatter.

Let caramel cool to 200 degrees F, then dip and swirl apples, one at a time, in the warm caramel.  Place on powdered-sugar-covered cookie sheet and  immediately decorate with sprinkles or chopped nuts.  May be chilled before eating.