Showing posts with label meat loaf. Southside Virginia Recipes and stories. Show all posts
Showing posts with label meat loaf. Southside Virginia Recipes and stories. Show all posts

Thursday, February 23, 2012

Okra - Poor Maligned Veggie.

Will everyone who considers okra inedible please say "aye"? Now, how many of you have actually tried it? Ha! I thought so. Many of you have just been put off by by what you've heard - mushy, stringy, slimy. I have even heard an indelicate person use a slang word for that which is produced by a runny nose.

Del and I grew up eating okra. Mother either fried it or made it with tomatoes. She also made okra pickles with dill. By the time I came into the family, Mrs. Williams put it in soup or stewed it. She usually put whole pods on top of her butter beans, but she always took them out and served them in a separate dish because Mr. Williams didn't like the way okra made the beans taste. Or he did if he knew they had been cooked together. Just one of the little secrets cooks keep from their families.

Both our families grew okra and used it fresh. I buy it frozen, and usually keep both the sliced, but unbreaded, and the whole pods in the freezer. When David, Tracy and Rosa come, I usually fry it, but I also use it in soup and stew whole pods or cook them on butter beans.

Here are the ways I learned to cook okra. If you try them and still aren't converted, you might want to grow a few plants anyway, because dried okra pods are beautiful in arrangements. When picking fresh okra, you might want to wear long sleeves and gardening gloves, because it is an itchy plant.

Fried Okra (Serves 6)

1 lb. frozen sliced okra
1/2 cup white stone ground corn meal
1/2 tsp. salt
1/8 tsp. black pepper
healthy shake of ground red pepper
Oil to barely cover bottom of iron frying pan or other pan large enough to to hold okra in a single layer (You know your frying pans. Some may require more oil than mine do,)

Remove okra from freezer to refrigerator to partially thaw. When ready to cook, put into paper bag with meal and seasonings. Shake, shake, shake.

Put enough oil into frying pan to cover bottom of pan. It will be shiny but not of any depth. Turn onto medium high heat. Check temperature by putting a tiny pinch of meal into pan. If it sizzles, shake bag again and pour everything into the pan. Spread okra into single layer, if possible. Cook on medium heat, turning as it begins to brown. Much of the meal will fall off the okra, but that is to be expected. Continue to cook, turning frequently, until the meal is brown. You may need to turn the heat down if it browns too quickly. You want the okra to be tender and the meal brown, not burned. Taste from time to time to check texture.

Note: This will not look at all like the okra you get in Cracker Barrel and such, but the green taste of the okra comes through and it is not greasy.

Boiled Okra

Fresh or frozen okra pods, partially thawed, if frozen

Salted and peppered water to barely cover


Depending upon size of okra pods, allow 3-4 per person. Simmer, covered, for 5 -10 minutes. The okra is done when the tip of a paring knife pierces it easily. Start testing for doneness after 5 minutes. You want it to be tender but not cooked to death. Do not let it come to a full boilor cook it too long, and do be sure to gently turn it instead of stirring because the pods will break and the result will be slimy and mushy. I'm okay with that, but I expect that for the uninitiated, it would be rather like eating a raw oyster, without risking Hep whichever letter. Because of my work and our travels, I've had my shots, but here are not enough shots in the world to persuade me to eat one of those, so I can't say for sure. Apply some kind of heat, however, and it's a whole other story. But I digress.

Note: You can also lay the pods on top of your fresh/frozen butter beans (baby limas), but be sure to check often because they will cook much quicker than the beans. To be fair to Mr. Williams, the flavor of the beans will be slightly changed.


Stewed okra

Mother didn't write down a recipe for stewed okra, so this is a method based on my memory of what she did, substituting store bought/short cut ingredients.

1 can stewed tomatoes
1 cup frozen sliced okra
1/4 cup frozen corn (my addition)
salt and pepper
hot sauce

Combine tomatoes and okra and simmer for 3-5 minutes. Check after 3 minutes for tender/crisp texture. Add corn and simmer for 2 minutes. Add salt to taste and a good bit of black pepper. You can also add some garlic powder and onion powder if you like. Add a couple of big shakes of hot sauce or allow each person to add it at the table.

Okra in Soup

Add either okra slices or pods to soup during the last 10 minutes of cooking. I prefer slices because they are more forgiving of over cooking and freeze well if you make a big batch of soup.

Dilled okra

I haven't made pickles or canned anything else since I used to help Mother, so I don't know the modern rules for safety, and would hesitate to tell anyone how to proceed, except to the grocery store. Up Nawth, you may have to go to a fancy store, but I used to buy them in Ohio without difficulty.

Tuesday, October 18, 2011

Lemon Chess Pie/ Computer on the Blink

When we moved to Macomb, Illinois, we found a sweet cherry tree full of cherries in our back yard. A neighbor asked David, aged 10, if he liked cherry pie. He said that he really didn't know because he had only ever had pecan or lemon chess. That wasn't qauite true, I don't think, but he wasn't off by much. Berries and other fruits were usually made into cobblers.

This pie is just about as rich as a pie can get, rivaling pecan pie, in my opinion. It is pretty much a special occasion pie and served in thin slices. Mother made it frequently for holidays, but I don't think Mrs. Williams did.

One year when we were living in Huntsville, Uncle Hubert, his daughter and several grandchildren came up to visit while Mr. Williams was there. We had people all over the place. It was lots of fun, but a bit confusing for the cook. I put two lemon chess pies into the oven and not until 15 minutes later noticed a bowl with sugar in it sitting on the counter. Not knowing what else to do, I took the pies out of the oven, scooped all the pie part out into the bowl of sugar, stirred vigorously, poured it back into the crusts and put them back into the oven. They were the strangest looking lemon chess pies I ever saw, but they tasted okay.

Lemon chess pies as made by members of our family are quite tart. We really are happiest when they make your lips pucker, but after serving them uncomfortably tart to Tracy's family, I have toned things down a bit.

When we were growing up, Southern Baptist receptions, showers and other celebrations in Jarratt usually had lemon crust tartlets and pecan tassies with cheese straws or wafers and tiny salty country ham biscuits to "take the sweet taste out of your mouth." I can't prove that this expression was invented by our family, but the Robinsons certainly took it to heart. A small plate of country ham slivers was passed around after every holiday meal when ham was served. Bubba and I agreed that even when you were so full you couldn't eat another bite, you could still find room for a bite of ham to "take the sweet taste out of your mouth."

Sister in law Dianne and I are going to make lemon chess tartlets for niece Sarah's wedding in Virginia a week from Saturday, and since I haven't made them in a long time,I decided to make a practice batch for Del and the three men who are building the humongous closet in our basement. They passed the wedding worthy test, so here is the recipe.

As you will notice when you read the recipe, this pie is quite rich, so cut it into thin slices, and be sure to refrigerate. All those eggs could could cause problems if you don't.

Recipe:
2 c. sugar
2 T. finely grated lemon zest
1 T. flour
1 T. white plain stone ground corn meal (or additional T flour)
4 beaten eggs
1/4 cup melted and cooled butter
1/2 c. fresh lemon juice, or a little more for puckery lips
1/4 c milk

Whisk all ingredients until thoroughly combined. Pour into 9" pastry shell. Bake 50-60 minutes in preheated 350 degree oven. Tooth pick will come out clean.

Tartlets:

One recipe of filling will make 69 tarts when baked in shells approximately 1 and 3/4" across and 1" deep. I use a scoop that holds almost 1 T. filling. Two pie crust sheets from the refrigerator case (one box) will make 48 shells when cut with a 2 and 1/4" cutter.

Note: If buying pans, I suggest you try to get this size for optimum lemon filling/crust ratio. I also recommend getting the 48 cup pans. It makes it so much easier when making a big batch of tartlets.

My computer has gotten indigestion or something. Maybe it's being exposed to all this food talk. I'll be sharing with Del for a bit, so things will be somewhat sporatic. We'll also be in Virginis for a couple of weeks, so I may not have internet access.

Tuesday, September 27, 2011

Why Mema Plus Mother's Meatloaf

The story of how Mother became Mema has absolutely nothing to do with her meatloaf recipe, but digressing is one of my talents/weaknesses.

When nephew Monte was a young toddler, his granddaddy Ashby had a stroke and was quite ill for a long time. He and Mrs. Ashby lived on the Eastern Shore before the bridge-tunnel was built and getting to them on the ferry took so long. Pat needed to be with them during this difficult time, so Monte shifted between our house, his house and the Eastern Shore quite a bit during that time.

Unfortunately, it did not occur to us that my calling Mother Mama would carry over to Monte, but it did. We tried changing to Grandma, and every other name we could think of, and Mema was the one that worked. Since both Monte and later Melissa said Mema, it was only natural that David would when he came along. Monte and Melissa called Pat's mother Mama Duck, and David called Mrs. Williams Grandmother. When he was just starting to talk, he called Mr. Williams Man. It embarrassed Mr. Williams to have this little kid yelling "Man" across the church yard. We could not figure out why David had picked this name until he got old enough to say longer words and changed to saying "Man Daddy." (Granddaddy) Now if we could just figure out why the baby Rosa called Del Bepo. I thought it was so cute, but it disappeared one day to be replaced by Granddaddy. Tracy's dad is Grandpa.

I became Mema because the first time David put her in my arms he said ”Here’s your Mema.” I have to confess that I almost turned around to look behind me, even though Mother had died when David was in college. I felt quite honored that I would be called Mema, but I knew that no matter how hard I tried there would be no way that I'd be the Mema she was. What a lady!

Back to meatloaf.

I love meatloaf, and I love cold meatloaf sandwiches. I don’t know that Mother ever had a formal recipe for her meatloaf, but this is my adaptation of what she taught me to do. Many people use ketchup or barbecue sauce in their meatloaf, but Mother always used home canned tomatoes. As mentioned in the scalloped potato post, she almost always served scalloped potatoes and string beans with her meatloaf.

Recipe

2 lb. ground beef or turkey
1 medium onion, finely chopped or equivalent of onion powder
1/4 medium green pepper, chopped
¾ cup raw oatmeal
½ tsp. salt
¼ tsp. black pepper
Dash red pepper
2 lightly beaten eggs or equivalent of substitute
28 oz. can diced tomatoes, divided

Scoop half the tomatoes from the can with a slotted spoon and mix with other ingredients. Shape into a loaf and place in sprayed baking dish.
Bake at 350 degrees for 30 minutes. Pour remaining tomatoes over meatloaf and cook another 30-45 minutes or so, checking for doneness after 30 minutes. Remove from oven, place on platter and allow to rest while you make the gravy.

Spoon off all but 2 T of drippings into a small bowl, and add 2 T of flour to the pan. Place on eye of stove and brown the flour, being sure to scrub up the bits at the bottom of the pan.

Remove as much fat from the drippings as possible and add beef broth to make a cup. Pour into the pan and stir until thick.

This makes at least 8 servings. For Del and me, I shape two loaves and freeze one raw for later. If I do that, I put half the remaining tomatoes into a freezer bag and wrap it up with the second loaf. Half the mixture leaves us plenty for sandwiches. I imagine you could cook both loaves and freeze one and half the gravy, but I have not actually tried that.

In case you would prefer to make the meatloaf exactly as Mother did, here’s how our recipes differ:

She did not put any tomatoes in the mixture itself. She just poured all of them over and around the loaf.

She did not make gravy. She served the meatloaf from the baking dish and we just scooped the tomatoes from the pan if we wanted to and put them over our meatloaf.