Too Much at Stake (24 page)

Deb put the date on her calendar, smiling at the mental image of a startled skier crashing into the wooden carving that Pat had suggested only as a joke.
At least there won't be a murder involved.
Then she knocked on her wood table ... just in case.

(or Northern or Musky)

Linda's story and recipe from the church cookbook:

When I was a young girl growing up in northern Canada, my favorite place to go for lunch wasn't to the city with my mum, although that was fun, going on the train. No, my favorite was going to the lake. My dad and I would take our poles early on a sunny morning, with snacks and a thermos of hot tea, and while away the time, fishing. There we would be, sitting on the dock, reading the paper and arguing politics. By lunch, we would have torn apart many a politician and managed to catch a few fish, too. Off we'd head to Gilbert's, a place filled with men and great stories. The air was permeated with the smell of cooked fish.

Gilbert himself would greet us at the door, taking our fish and our newspaper, as we found a seat in the popular place. While we laughed and joked with Dad's friends, he would clean the fish, wrap it in our newsprint, and poach it. I can still see and smell it as if it were just yesterday. He would come back with it just a few minutes later, still wrapped in our newspapers, with plenty of chips and malt vinegar for each of us on the side. Gently, I would pull off the now-soggy paper, as if unwrapping a special present, and the skin would come off with it, leaving just the beautiful steaming white of the fish. It was so hot that I had to be careful not to burn my tongue, but so good, I didn't care if I burned it a little.

But what is the double-poached part, you may be asking, if you have read the recipe? Why, what every good Canadian knows. The fish was caught out of season, of course!
Poached!

Whether fish is to be poached in a
court bouillon
or in plenty of salt water, or whether it is whole fish or simply a piece, it should be tied in a cheesecloth, leaving long ends free so that the fish can be lifted from the hot liquid without breaking.

The liquid must never boil but should always be kept at a simmer for perfect poaching.

A
court bouillon
is made with water, onions and carrots, herbs, wine or vinegar or lemon juice, and seasoning to taste. There must be enough liquid to completely cover the fish. Use two tablespoons wine, vinegar or lemon juice to half-cup of water (unless a recipe calls for other proportions). Lemon juice or vinegar is preferred with salmon; vinegar is used more often with shellfish.

Place all flavoring ingredients in the saucepan, add the liquids, and boil uncovered for twenty to thirty minutes before adding the fish.

If plain salted water is used for poaching, bring it to a full, rolling boil. When you are ready to put in the fish, remove the
court bouillon
or water from the heat. Once the fish has been added, bring the liquid to a simmer and continue to cook, covered, over low heat. Figure six to eight minutes per pound of fish, or allow ten minutes for every inch of thickness.

When the fish is done, remove it from the cooking liquid. To serve the fish cold, cool fish and liquid separately until both are tepid, and then pour enough of the liquid over the unwrapped fish to cover completely. Another method is to reduce cooking time and let the fish complete its cooking as the
court bouillon
cools. Refrigerate until cold. Unwrap and serve.

Poaching can also be done in the oven. Assemble the ingredients for the
court bouillon
; boil as above; strain. Then pour the liquid over the cheesecloth-wrapped fish in a baking pan. Cover the pan and place in preheated 375° F. oven. Poach for about ten minutes per pound or until the fish flakes easily when tested with a fork.

2 carrots, sliced

2 medium-sized onions, sliced

6 shallots, chopped

4 Tbsp. chopped parsley stems

1 tsp. minced fresh thyme

or 1/2 tsp. dried thyme

2 bay leaves

12 peppercorns, crushed in a mortar

1 Tbsp. salt

4 C. white wine

4 C. water

Other herbs or seasoning can be used. Also, the boiled
court bouillon
can be strained for top-of-the-stove poaching as well as for oven poaching.

Pastor Pat's story and recipe for the church cookbook:

I know that every restaurant now serves wild rice soup, but the soup I remember comes with the memory of riceing.

When I was quite small, maybe five years old, I went riceing with my mother and her friends. I remember sitting in the strange boat that sat low in the water, going among the rice plants. The day was warm, and it could be that I was taken along simply because there was no one to watch me, but I didn't care. To me, it was an adventure!

The lake was called Rat Lake, and I spent some time looking for the creatures until I was assured by an auntie that there were none. The women were quiet, gliding among the plants, pulling them over the boat and knocking the heads with flat sticks. After a while, I fell asleep in the boat, lulled by the sun and the breeze and the swish of the rice.

I woke up at the dock pulled up to the house. I was suddenly really hungry, as only children seem to get.

"Can we have wild rice soup?" I asked.

The women laughed.

"Not today; this rice isn't ready yet," said Auntie. "But I'll make you some Sunday if you want." And she tousled my hair.

Forever after, I have loved wild rice soup and the memories of a riceing day!

In a big pot, melt the butter over medium heat; add onion. Cook and stir about five minutes until goldeny beautiful. Add mushrooms and celery; cook and stir. Mix in flour, little by little. Gradually add broth, stirring all the while, until slightly thickened. Stir in cooked rice, and spices. Reduce heat to low. Stir in half &half and, of course, the sherry. Bring to simmer, stirring occasionally. And it's ready to eat! If you want to be fancy, after you put it in bowls, throw a little parsley or chives on top. You can also put in two precooked cubed chicken breasts, if you feel you have to, but the soup is great without them.

1/2 cup butter

1/2 tsp. each: salt, curry powder,

1 lg. onion, chopped paprika, dry mustard

2 1/2 cups sliced mushrooms

1/4 tsp. white pepper

1/2 cup sliced celery

2 cups half&half (don't use milk!)

1/2 cup flour

2/3 cup sherry

6 cups chicken broth

fresh chopped parsley or chives

2 cups cooked wild rice

A Chapple Avenue favorite

Story and recipe from church cookbook:

A great French stew for a hungry crew. And since it can be made without meat, a wonderful dish for those holidays when the college daughter comes home, announcing she is vegetarian.

I remember going to school, somewhere around third grade, and being offered—and then forced to eat—squash at hot lunch. Our teacher sat at the end of the table and gave everyone the eye and said, "Eat it and like it. It's good for you." Do you recall that yellow-orange leftover Elmer's gluelike stuff? All I recall is gagging it down and swearing off squash for life. That's it; I lumped all squash together as one inedible vegetable group. This was reinforced a few times later, as I was offered other nasty attempts at squashes, usually mashed, usually bland, and always overcooked mushy
blech
—a hard conception to overcome. Squash joined eggs and cheese as evils to be avoided.

Somewhere in my twenties, I was offered a zucchini and tomato dish that my mother had recently discovered, and it was not like anything I had had before. At first, I just ate the tomatoes, then wandered warily into what was left ... and I liked it. It was crisp, flavorful, and actually delightful. The zucchini mostly carried the flavor of its neighbors, garlic, fresh basil, fresh tomatoes, onions. Simple, straightforward, inoffensive. Since then, I have been able to discover other joy in the squash family, though when it is done poorly, it still repulses me and sends me back to third grade, as I look for a corner under the table that needs caulking. I can't say that I have been as fortunate with eggs (still horrible) and cheese (please be kind and hide it well).

A good-sized skillet, 10-12" helps. Cook on high heat.

Heat 2 Tbsp. olive oil in skillet until hot but not smoking.

Add 1 large onion sliced into large pieces. Fry 60 secs.

Add 2-3 sliced zucchini (round slices fairly even)

Stir quickly in, not over 60 secs more.

Add 2 medium very fresh tomatoes cut in wedges and 2-6 cloves diced or crushed fresh garlic

Cook another 60 secs until all heated through.

Black pepper to taste

Salt to taste

At the end, add a handful of fresh basil chopped (a must).

Add a splash of good balsamic vinegar (if you like) or fresh Parmesan cheese chips (you will like this better than I do).

Let it rest a few minutes off the heat to meld flavors—in the pan if you like it softer, out of the pan if you prefer crispier.

Nice additions at times:

Fresh red sweet pepper, or a touch of hot banana pepper.

Fresh oregano

Walnuts

Yellow squash

Deb's story and all-time favorite

beer-herb bread recipe from church cookbook

One of my fondest childhood memories is of my mother baking fresh homemade white bread every Saturday. White bread was
the
thing in those days. A very early childhood memory was not of what doll I got for Christmas but of the wonderful, yeasty smell of rising dough.

When Marc and I first married, we lived in Ohio. In the fall of our first year there, an elderly woman in our community shared this recipe with us for beer-herb bread. I baked it for our Thanksgiving dinner that year, and we all loved it. It has been a staple of our Thanksgiving dinner ever since, as well as a standard comfort food for other times of the year. And of course, I'm always delighted when the kids get off the bus, running into the house, yelling, "I smell bread!"

From early fall to late spring, we observe "soup and bread" Sundays. Sunday evening dinner is always soup and bread, oftentimes, using this recipe.

We often use fresh herbs from our garden for this bread. It is fabulous slightly warm and with leftover turkey.

2 pkg dry yeast

1/2 C. lukewarm water

1/4 C. sugar

1 Tbsp. salt

1 12 oz. bottle/can of beer, heated to lukewarm

2 Tbsp. melted butter/margarine

2 eggs, lightly beaten

1 tsp. sage

2 tsp. thyme

3 tsp. savory

1 small onion, grated

7 C. flour (approx.)

Sprinkle the yeast over the lukewarm water and stir to dissolve. Combine the heated beer, sugar, salt, and melted butter with the yeast mixture. Add the eggs, sage, thyme, savory, grated onion, and 4 cups of the flour, and beat until the mixture is smooth. Add enough remaining flour until the mixture becomes difficult to beat. Turn dough out onto a lightly floured board and begin kneading, adding enough of the remaining flour so that the dough does not stick to your hands or the board. Continue to knead until the dough is smooth and elastic. Place the dough in an oiled bowl, cover it with a damp cloth and let rise in a warm place until doubled in bulk, about 1-1/2 hours. When the dough has risen, punch it down, and let it rest for 10-15 minutes. Divide the dough in two pieces and shape each one into a round loaf. Place each in a loaf pan and let rise until double. Bake the loaves in a preheated 400° oven for 35 minutes. Remove the loaves from pans, and let cool on wire racks. This bread should be served slightly warm. You may also freeze the loaves and reheat as needed. This dough also makes wonderful dinner rolls or hamburger buns. Makes 2 loaves.

(Paraguayan Corn Casserole)

Bruno's story and recipe from church cookbook

This recipe is from my mom in Paraguay. It is her family's version of a very traditional Paraguayan dish. It's delicious, sort of a cross between corn bread and a corn souffle or pudding. You can eat it alone, like a casserole, or kind of like polenta, topped with or alongside a stew or chili.

My mom says, "I don't really have set measurements, but it's one of those can't-mess-up dishes. It always tastes good, even if it's not exact. It's great in the summer, when corn is cheap and abundant, but it's good in the fall/winter, too. This dish is always served at special holidays in Paraguay. This recipe will make a large Pyrex dish of chipa. You can halve it for a smaller batch.

8 or more ears of corn (you can use frozen or canned if you must, but even out-of-season, fresh is better)

1 large sweet or yellow onion diced fine

1/3-1/2 cup corn oil

1/2-1 cup water

salt

6 eggs, separated

1-2 cups grated cheese (depending on how cheesy you want it)—any kind that melts well, like Colby jack or Muenster

1 cup milk, half&half or cream (depending on how rich you want it)

1 cup corn meal, regular flour, or a mix (corn meal makes it taste cornier, but flour works, too)

Cooking spray or a little more oil for the Pyrex

INSTRUCTIONS

1. Preheat the oven to 400°. Clean off the corn, and cut off kernels. Make sure to scrape the cob. If you want, blend all or
³
/4 of the kernels in a food processor or blender, for a creamier texture. If you prefer chunkier, leave the corn kernels whole. Put in a really big bowl; you'll mix everything into the corn.

2. Heat the oil in a deep frying pan on medium-low heat. Add onions before the oil is too hot. You do not want the onions to brown. You just want them translucent. Add enough water so the onions are submerged. Add 1 or 2 tsps. of salt, or as much as you think you'd like. You add it here so it dissolves and brings out the onion flavor. You may have to add more water as the onions cook down and the water evaporates. This is to keep the onions from browning. Cook the onions until they are very soft and practically invisible, about 10-15 minutes on very low heat. Take off the heat and let cool while you do the next steps. There will be about 2-3 teaspoons of oil left with the onions, which will be added to the corn.