Recipes for Life (29 page)

View of the terrace from the lake.

No kidding, JZ really did win an award for this pie when she was young. And I have to say it is the best I’ve had in my life.

4 eggs, separated, yolks slightly beaten

¼ teaspoon cream of tartar

2½ cups granulated sugar

¾ teaspoon vanilla extract

½ cup cornstarch

4 tablespoons (½ stick) unsalted butter

2 teaspoons grated lemon peel

⅔ cup freshly squeezed lemon juice

1 or 2 drops yellow food coloring

1 9-inch baked pie shell (page 209)

Preheat oven to 400°F.

Make the meringue first: Beat egg whites and cream of tartar until frothy. Beat in ½ cup of sugar, 1 tablespoon at a time. Continue beating until stiff and glossy; do not under beat. Beat in vanilla. Reserve.

To make the filling, blend the remaining 2 cups of sugar and the cornstarch in a saucepan. Gradually stir in 2 cups of water. Cook, stirring constantly, over medium heat until mixture thickens and comes to a boil. Boil 1 minute, stirring. Gradually stir at least half the sugar mixture into the egg yolks, then blend all of the egg yolk mixture back into the sugar mixture in the pan. Boil and stir for 2 more minutes. Remove from the heat; stir in butter, lemon peel, juice, and food coloring. Immediately pour into the baked pie shell.

Heap meringue on the hot pie filling; spread over the filling, carefully sealing the meringue onto the edge of the crust to prevent shrinking or weeping. There will be extra filling and meringue for your own enjoyment.

Bake about 10 minutes, or until delicately browned. Cool the pie away from any draft.

1 cup all-purpose flour

½ teaspoon salt

4 tablespoons (½ stick) butter-flavored shortening, chilled, cut into ½-inch cubes

4 to 6 tablespoons water, ice cold

In a chilled mixing bowl, blend flour and salt. Cut the chilled cubes of butter-flavored shortening into the mixture using a pastry blender, until the mixture resembles course pea-size crumbs. Sprinkle half the iced water over the mixture and mix gently with a fork. Add additional tablespoons of iced water one at a time, until the dough holds together.

Quickly mold the dough into a ball, then flatten into a disk. Wrap in plastic wrap and refrigerate for at least 30 minutes.

Preheat the oven to 450°F.

Place the dough disk on a lightly floured surface and, with a rolling pin, roll dough outward from the center into a circle 2 inches wider than the pie plate. Gently ease the crust into the pie plate. Fold the edges under and crimp onto the edge of the pie plate.

Bake for 20 minutes or until a light golden brown. Remove from the oven and cool for 30 minutes.

S
HORTLY AFTER
I purchased Villa Madera, a friend told me she’d uncovered plans to dump sludge next to a pristine river where the dwindling salmon spawn. She asked if I could help bring this potential disaster to the public’s eye. So, JZ, I, and a group of our friends marched together on the state capital with hundreds of caring protesters.

Not only did we win the day, but also the Reagan Administration, having heard about the event, thought I’d be the perfect spokesperson for the president’s environmental program, Take Pride in America. It was such a pleasure for me to meet the thousands of Americans that took part in the program over the years—beautiful, caring people who volunteered to help clean up our rivers, parks, and cities.

John and I hosting the gala for the Reagans at the Ford Theater.

Take Pride in America was such a success that the Bush administration kept it alive for another four years. Sadly, and quite surprisingly, the so-called environmental administration of Clinton and Gore decided to dismantle it because “it was a Republican program.” I tried telling them that the environment isn’t a Republican or a Democrat (which and, by the way, I happen to be), but they just didn’t care.

Taking Pride in America with President Bush.

It’s sad that even as far back as that, partisan politics have created more harm than good. Here they were calling themselves the “Environmental Group,” but only supported programs they personally implemented. I’m thrilled about all the great work that Al Gore has recently done on behalf of climate change; it’s just sad that such a worthy project had to be shelved more than a decade ago, when it could have done so much good if given a chance.

When I was in Washington, D.C., I fell in love with the crab cakes they made in the restaurant of the hotel where I stayed. When the chef found out how much I loved them, and how I also liked to cook, he invited me into the kitchen to watch him make them. What a wonderful experience that was! Through the years, with much trial and error, I think I finally came up with my winning version, which I serve with a creamy wine, shallot, and mustard sauce. I hope you like them, too!

1 pound scallops

½ pound lump crabmeat

2 egg whites (plus 1 egg yolk, if mixture is too thin)

1 to 2 tablespoons heavy cream

½ pound cooked lobster meat; cut into small chunks (I use the much less expensive slipper lobster tails, ¾-pound uncooked to yield this much meat, see Note on page 214)

1½ to 2 cups panko breadcrumbs

¾ cup clarified unsalted butter (page 29)

Salmon caviar, optional

Chopped chives, optional

FOR THE SAUCE

¾ cup dry white wine

¼ cup white wine vinegar

2 tablespoons minced shallot

2 tablespoons heavy cream

1 pound unsalted butter, chilled, cut into small pieces

2 teaspoons whole-grain mustard (I prefer Pommery), or to taste, at room temperature

Pat dry the scallops. Pick through the crab to take out any shells.

Pulse the scallops in a food processor until finely chopped. Add egg whites and blend. (Only add the egg yolk if the mixture appears runny at this point.) With the machine running, slowly pour in the 1 to 2 tablespoons cream and blend until it has the consistency of thick mayonnaise. Pour into a bowl and fold in the crab and lobster meat.

Preheat the oven to 180°F.

Place the panko breadcrumbs on a large plate. Take a portion of the crab/lobster mixture with a ladle, enough to form a 3-inch crab cake (this mixture will not be stiff). Gently place the mixture on top of the panko breadcrumbs. With your hands, form it into a round cake and coat on the top and sides with the breadcrumbs, gently pressing the panko to adhere to the cakes. Place the coated cakes on a clean plate until they have all been formed and breaded.

Add a few tablespoons of clarified butter to a nonstick skillet over medium heat and sauté the cakes in batches, adding a little more butter as needed, until brown on both sides, 2 to 3 minutes altogether. Keep finished cakes warm on a cookie sheet in the oven.

To make the sauce, put the wine, vinegar, and shallots in a heavy-bottomed, medium saucepan over medium heat. Simmer until reduced to about 1½ tablespoons. Add the cream and reduce slightly as well. Remove the pan from the heat, and slowly add the chilled
butter, one piece at a time, whisking constantly. If you need more heat for the butter to soften, hold the pan briefly over
very
low heat. Never let the butter melt completely or the sauce will separate. (If the sauce starts to separate, take it off the heat and let the warmth of the sauce soften the butter. You may have to repeat the process of heating and cooling so sauce does not separate.) Stir in the mustard to your taste.

Place a little sauce on each plate and place the crab cake on top.

Serve the sauce and the crab cakes immediately. If you must wait, hold the sauce over water that’s just warm enough to keep the butter from separating.

Note: If you are using the slipper tail lobsters for the lobster meat, put them in a small frying pan with 1 tablespoon of melted butter and cook for a few minutes. Put on a plate lined with paper towels and pat dry. Three-quarters of a pound will cook down to half a pound of lobster. The pieces of meat will be perfect in size, so you do not need to cut them.

I
T WAS LIKE
a fairy tale to be invited to the White House for the first time, though I’m sure you can understand why I was nervous about taking Bunky with me to meet President and Mrs. Reagan. The way Bunky tells it, I threatened her within an inch of her life to behave. I probably did, but I also knew it wouldn’t stop her if she’d made up her mind to do something outrageous.

At the White House, while the Marines were escorting us to the Blue Room, I kept asking Bunky what she was going to say to the President when they met. But all the little brat would say is: “I’m not gonna tell ya.”