September 15, 2015

Crab Soufflé

September 15, 2015/ Blair Cowan

I know what you're thinking: this is gonna be some kind of weird knock-off of a soufflé made with canned soup and Velveeta. But you are wrong.

There are things we all have irrational cooking fears about: my mom was terrified to make lasagne until she was well into her 30s, I was nervous about making crepes until my 29th year when I learned how easy they were, mussels always alarmed me until my dear husband bought me an entire cookbook of Italian seafood recipes, and Judson always had a phobia of making crackers until I convinced him to do it for a New Year's Eve party one year... but those are all irrational fears, because, eventually, we made the dishes in question and learned that they were insanely easy (crackers literally only have two ingredients!).

On the other end of the spectrum are the rational cooking fears: things like soufflés, molecular gastronomy, crème brulée, and anything with foam go on this list. It's not often that I attempt things from this list. Don't get me wrong, I make complicated recipes in my non-blog life (and occasionally in my blog life), but I tend more toward long and arduous recipes with lots of ingredients rather than recipes that require specific techniques. (That's probably a failing on my part.) As it turns out, though, Eleanor's cooking style must have mirrored mine-- at least somewhat-- because most of her recipes, even the difficult ones, are only difficult because of how many ingredients they have-- not because of the techniques required.

Which is why I was as surprised as you were when I found the recipe for this soufflé in the box-- and I was anticipating a massive failure. I've only made a soufflé once (and as such, I remain the youngest/only person I know who has ever made one), but it was under the tutelage of an elderly French woman and so it wasn't exactly a solo venture. This one, though, I attempted on my own and it still came out a total win (though, alas, not particularly beautiful).

The texture gets ickier after adding the yolks, but it'll be worth it!

If you've never had a soufflé, might I encourage you to try this one? If you don't like seafood, you can just leave out the crab for a ragingly awesome cheese soufflé that would be perfect for lunch or even weekend brunch. The crab, though, is easy to get since you can use canned crabmeat, and it's also less expensive than using fresh would be. (Though seriously, if you made this with lump crabmeat, I might just invite myself over for dinner because yum.) This is the kind of recipe to make when you've got company coming. It's easy, delicious, cheap, and everyone will be so impressed. You'll be The Girl (or Guy) Who Makes Soufflés. No one has to know that it uses two canned ingredients and the recipe came off a blog that nabbed it from the 1959 edition of Kraft Cookery. If there's one recipe in this box that proves some things are just timeless, it's this one.

Some technique advice (not that you need it):

Whip 'em. (Whip 'em good). Those egg whites are what's going to make this a soufflé and not just a quiche, so whip them until they are super stiff. (Like, when you pull your beater out, they should stand straight up and be nice and shiny. Not foamy, and not slumped over like waves at the beach).
This would be amaaaaazing with a tiny sprinkle of chili powder for heat, or nutmeg for spice. Or even some dried dill to make it more like a crabcake.
As written below, this makes 2 main-course sized portions or 3 petite side dishes. Easily doubles to feed 4-6, but then you'll need a standard loaf pan instead of the silly wee one I used. As with any soufflé, it's best eaten fresh, so scale according to your needs.

The verdict:

5 spoons out of five.Even Judson, who doesn't dislike seafood but would never go out of his way to eat it, loved this. It's super easy, even on a weeknight, and you don't need any special equipment. An electric mixer is super helpful for beating those egg whites, but not technically necessary. This is as close to a foolproof recipe as I've come across in the box (except for the 3-ingredient bread recipe, because come on).

The recipe:

Crab Soufflé

the directions:

Preheat oven to 160C/325F.
Heat evaporated milk over very low heat until bubbles form around the edge of the pot.
Add cheese, salt, pepper, and any other herbs and stir until melted and smooth. (Try not to dig in at this point.)
Allow to cool to lukewarm.
While cooling, beat the egg whites until very stiff and glossy, then set aside.
After cheese mixture has cooled, stir in egg yolks, one at a time, stirring until smooth.
Fold egg whites into cheese mixture with a spatula, using spatula to 'turn' mixture very gently.
Mixture should not be smooth, but egg white should be thoroughly blended into batter.
Place crabmeat in bottom of loaf pan.
Gently top with cheese mixture and smooth the top with spatula.
Bake for 35-45 minutes until risen and brown and crisp on top.

Serves 2 as a main course, or 3, petitely.

the ingredients:

¼ c evaporated milk
½ c sharp cheddar cheese, grated
½ tsp salt
½ tsp black pepper
3 eggs, separated, both parts reserved
1 c crabmeat

September 14, 2015

Spicy Spaghetti

September 14, 2015/ Blair Cowan

There's a stereotype in Europe that Americans are weirdly quick to point out their heritage to anyone who will listen. We've all heard someone explaining 'I'm 1/16th Irish, and ¼th English, and 1/8th German...,' and, inevitably, it turns out that the person explaining all of this was born to American parents who were born to American parents.

Over here in Scotland, everyone makes fun of Americans who do this. But when Scots ask me where I am 'originally' from and I answer with 'Florida,' they give me the side-eye and then every single time they ask 'but where are you really from?' because they want to know where my European roots lie. It's a no-win conversation, really.*

I always claim to be American as far back as the Revolutionary War, because my grandfather has traced one side of my family history back that far. But that's not a completely fair statement because Eleanor was born in 1920 in Brooklyn to parents newly-emigrated from Poland. Whenever anyone in my family talks about this (which isn't often), it's always phrased as 'they fled Poland,' or 'they escaped from Poland.' Recently I realised I know almost nothing about 20th century Poland before World War II, so I did some research and learned that 'escape' was definitely the right word for what Eleanor's family did: Poland had so many wars that overlapped so significantly in between 1900 and 1920 that I can't really figure out exactly what was going on except to say that life was probably better outside it than in it during those years.

Here's what I know about their move: my great-grandparents brought with them their oldest child Mary (the only one to be born outside of the US) and their sterling silver tea set, minus the tray that went with it because, according to family lore, it wouldn't fit in the single bag that they were taking with them. Somewhere along the trip, the handle broke off of the creamer so it just sits loose inside the creamer, and I'm always looking for a cool silver tray to replace the one left behind a century ago.

I don't know much else about the way they arrived here, but I'm fascinated by the details I imagine went into the trip-- deciding what to take, booking passage on a ship, knowing that they would arrive in New York without a plan or a penny to their names. Eleanor's parents must have spoken English because Eleanor didn't speak Polish, but even that fact just brings up even more questions: how did they learn it? Why didn't they teach their children to speak Polish? Did her parents miss it? Did they have family here, or were they always on their own? Also, I've always wondered if they came through Ellis Island-- because wouldn't it be cool if they did? However they arrived, one thing is for certain: her parents may not have changed their names on arrival, but they did give their children new names. On Eleanor's birth certificate, her last name is spelled differently from her parents'.

These are the stories that have become stereotypical in the US: ancestors coming through immigration with only the clothes on their backs, changing their names and learning English as they went along. But it's rare you find someone in your family tree who did just that, which is why I'm glad I know at least the miniscule details about Eleanor's life that I do.

If you noticed that the onion powder and the red pepper are from Target, you're right. I stock up every time we're back in the US because I can't find them here.

In Scotland there is a huge Polish population-- or at least, huge in comparison to anywhere I've ever lived. The neighbourhood where Judson and I first lived after moving here was full of Polish delis (best pickles ever!), bakeries (that bread!), and hair salons (…?), and I've loved trying out new Polish foods I'd never otherwise have tasted. Incidentally, my grocery store has, evidently, stopped carrying tomato paste except for the Polish kind, so that's what I made this recipe with. This spaghetti is good, but I can't help but wonder if tomato paste back in the 1960's was thinner than it is today, because although this was delicious, the sauce was definitely more of a paste than a liquid. Because it was supposed to be made with 'the spice packet that comes in the box,' I had to wing it. Made as below, it's a thick, spicy bolognese sauce, but if you're missing some of the spices listed, feel free to leave any of them out or add in your own. Basil would be perfect here, but mine, as previously noted, seems to have turned into oregano and frustratingly refuses to turn back.

*This isn't the first time I've had this conversation with people. When I lived in France, my host mom patiently explained to me one day that 'no one is actually from America. You're all from here, so where is your family originally from?' Knowing that she wasn't a huge fan of the Germans (my heritage on my dad's side), I told her my background is Polish (which it is, technically, through my mom) and she shook her head, patted me on the shoulder, and gave me her condolences for what Poland had gone through during the war.