May, 2010

  1. “Mike’s Cole Slaw”

    May 31, 2010 by Tarrant Figlio

    Some months ago @nakedjen tweeted me-asking for my address. She had seen two cookbooks and couldn’t resist picking them up for me and sending them to me. I was delighted. The Working Wives (Salaried or Otherwise) Cookbook, 1963, by Theodora Zavin and Freda Stuart showed up at my door along with a dinner party cookbook. This week, we are having meals out of this cookbook-not quite Julie and Julia. (The mess! The weird foods! The rollicking good time and busted grocery budget!) We  have a range from the cookbook on our menus though.

    First up-Mike’s Cole Slaw. Named for one of the author’s children? husband? neighbors? I don’t know-I lost track of the men in the story. and told with a story of vanishing slaw. Not one of my children-they didn’t touch the slaw. If it isn’t L.A. Slaw-they aren’t interested.

    Like the other recipes, I cheat. I didn’t want to shred the cabbage or the carrots-so I bought the preshredded stuff. I realized it wouldn’t be enough for the 2 lb cabbage and 2 carrots called for in the recipe-so I cut the recipe for the dressing into thirds. I, however, didn’t consider this when portioning the green pepper, so we had a whole, rather lovely green pepper addition to dinner.

    The original recipe calls for

    2 lb head green cabbage
    2 carrots
    1 green pepper
    3 tablespoons vinegar
    1/3 cup sugar
    1 1/2 cups Miracle Whip (a condiment never bought in this house and bought in the smallest jar they had-Miracle Whip is only appropriate for Maryland tomato sandwiches on Wonder Bread-nothing else-except maybe this recipe)

    So, the night before, the good Working Wife should shred the cabbage and the carrots and chop the green pepper. Then combine the vinegar, sugar and Miracle Whip together and pour over and toss with the vegetables. We are warned it won’t look like enough dressing but by magic or science the dressing becomes exactly right-and not like that luncheonette version you may have had in the past.

    Like I said, I cut the dressing ingredients by 2/3 s and there was more than enough.

    How was it? Denise said “It tasted like cole slaw” (and indeed-it did taste very much like what you get if you buy the creamy cole slaw dressing at the store or you get cole slaw while out) I liked the green pepper in it very much.

    Category retro food | Tags: | No Comments

  2. Cookbooks Change Lives

    May 28, 2010 by Tarrant Figlio

    Share the cookbook or any book that changed your life to help give books to children in need (or just go read and comment on other books that changed lives. The comments are important) ! http://www.blogher.com/books-make-difference-share-which-book-changed-your-life-donate-book-child-need

    Category retro food | Tags: | No Comments

  3. Happy Beaning Day

    May 24, 2010 by Tarrant Figlio

    On this day in 2002, I asked Denise to be mine. At that point, a mere formality, plans were being made to combine households. I had chosen a home. But, I then, still, was that woman I am seeing-TW. We had lines we didn’t cross-despite the river rush of our love…the riptide that held us pulling us parallel yet not quite the same as the life before.

    This, like all love stories does have a food tie-in. We could speak the words of love spoken with mushrooms, we could speak of biscuits and hash browns. By Beaning Day, we could even talk of Angel Hair Onion Rings, maybe. Perhaps not, the child of the Angel Hair Onion Rings definitely did not believe that love for her had anything to do with the plans. She did not know of the 3 am search for cheerleading, for schools, for the right words to bring her to a new home in Florida. She did not know that yes, she meant a lot in all of it. Such is the nature of being her age, of the inexplicable nature of love.

    But, a tiny gold coffee bean had been bought-it had actually resided in a pocket of the weekend suitcase that made numerous trips back and forth to South Carolina. The time not right, the reasons not right, but the us felt right enough to order, then purchase the gold charm. A coffee bean-for Denise’s endless coffee habit-or a coffee bean for so much potential in a tiny bean, a brew that some love and can’t wake up without or one others loathe. A coffee bean for strength, some bitter notes, some smooth, for being alive and the sheer shape of it-a cleft, smooth on the outside, a rough side.

    While all the rules had yet to be met-it finally could not wait. I gave up incredibly “romantic” ideas-no limo, no roses, no surprise. Instead I insisted on breakfast at Waffle House. No, I couldn’t just get something out of the fridge. She knew something was up and she didn’t like it.

    We went into the Waffle House. I handed her the bag. She looked at the jewelry box inside with alarm. She’s not the marrying type and she knew it wouldn’t be a varsity ring. She opened. I asked. She rolled her eyes. But she knew, I knew. Waffle House. A coffee bean. Each other.

    It wouldn’t always be easy-but it would be official-as official as we wanted-as unique a memory and anniversary as we are a family.

    Last week, someone spoke of Denise and how they hadn’t seen her ever in a dress. I said I had, two different dresses. One a blue striped sundress she sometimes wore. Another she wore for me once-the first time she came to see me in Florida. I described how incredible she looked in it-my breathlessness at seeing her-but added that at that point she could have worn anything or nothing-since I was that taken with her. The person I was speaking to said she hoped I always felt that way about Denise. It was a toss off comment-from someone who knew us both-but you know what? I do. When I spotted her as I rode down the escalator to baggage claim on Friday evening, I grinned, wanted, and loved her-not just as much-but more than I had when she stepped off that plane in Orlando.

    So, there-a Beaning Day story for you…marshmallow fluff because that is what she makes of me. I am besotted all these years later. She wears a coffee bean around her neck and holds my heart even tighter.

    Category retro food | Tags: | 8 Comments

  4. A Family Story

    May 18, 2010 by Tarrant Figlio

    I have posted the recipe for Mama Mediterranean Salad before-but I was just thinking about it. I am about to go on a business trip and was looking at the online menus. One restaurant features so many things I love that it will be hard to choose. Among them, crab soup and “Maryland Crab Cakes” but since the restaurant is in Atlanta and a fussy one-they won’t be anything like a real Maryland crab cake-so I am safe there. (good thing, since crab turns my chin purple-not the look for a business meeting)

    Then a friend and I were discussing Virginia, Maryland, DC and my being “home sick” though home hasn’t been there in 20 years. I said flying into National was at once wonderful and horrible. It truly is one of the best places to land-at least I think so.

    I explained that DC to me is the museums my parents took us to constantly. My father wanted educated, knowlegeable children and the museums were free. He saw no reason why this activity was not part of all my classmates weekends. Now it has been forever since I have been to the museums-close to the two decades since I moved away…I feel uneasy when I look at the Smithsonian sites and see that things have been rearranged, remodeled, changed but still know that I can count on that magic that those museums hold for me.

    I spoke about my family’s Independence Day routine-in the city early, fruit from the fruit stall, visit the Archives, watch the parade, hear the Declaration of Independence read-complete with cannon fire. Then museum break, followed by the folk life festival on the Mall. Then grab the picnic from the car-visit the botanical gardens and use the bathroom. Then a picnic on the Capitol lawn-with the symphony, the guest stars, and fireworks over the Washington monument. Our family-in later years dressed in matching red, white and blue shirts. Usually a boyfriend or two in those years as well.

    The salad linked above is part of that story-a very small part of it…but a token to remember it.

    Category retro food | Tags: | 2 Comments

Older Entries