SAUCES, DRESSINGS, CONDIMENTS, RUBS, AND PRESERVES12 SAUCES, DRESSINGS, CONDIMENTS, RUBS, AND PRESERVES
| —1870s— | • The golden era of marmalade: pumpkin, pineapple, quince, rhubarb, and lemon are common. |
| —1876— | • Make-your-own Worcestershire Sauce (here). |
| —1878— | • Dulce de Lece (here), 125 years before Häagen-Dazs discovers it. |
| —1880s— | • If you grow too much cabbage, you shred it and turn it into the pickle Chow-Chow (here). • Tomato Figs (here), sweetened sun-dried tomatoes, are a popular preserve, as is Tomato Jelly (here). • Americans know their way around ketchup, and mushroom ketchup is as common as tomato. Heinz Ketchup, introduced in 1876, eventually changes this. |
| —1881— | • Hollandaise is a fancy party sauce. |
| —1897— | • Smucker’s is founded, and home preserving begins its shift from necessity to hobby. |
| —1909— | • Tartar Sauce (here). |
| —1939— | • Harbinger of a grilling nation: Barbecue Sauce (here). |
| —1940s— | • The pickles decade. |
| —1966— | • Spiced Hard Sauce (here) harks back to British Colonial days. |
| —1969 — | • Lorane Schiff’s Pesto Genovese (here) is the first pesto recipe to appear in the Times. |
| —1970s— | • No savory dish can’t be improved with a few dashes of Tabasco and Worcestershire sauce. |
| —1980s— | • We discover guacamole, then salsa, and, as a result, consume a whole lot of chips, garlic, and beer. |
| —1983— | • Brie Butter with Fresh Bread (here). |
| —1990s— | • Preserved lemons (here) fascinate but never really catch on. • Dry rubs replace marinades. • It’s fashionable to make your own mayonnaise. |
| —2002— | • Romesco Sauce (here), a delicious tomato and bread sauce from Spain, emerges. Cooks wonder how they’ve lived this long without it. |
| —2005— | • Salsa verde replaces pesto in restaurants. |
| —2007— | • Homemade Butter and Buttermilk (here). |
| —2008— | • Sriracha sauce makes a bid to become a mainstream condiment. |
SAUCES, DRESSINGS, CONDIMENTS, RUBS, AND PRESERVES
In some ways this is my favorite chapter in the book, because it gathers up all the kitchen’s toothsome marginalia, the pungent sauces and rubs, the preserves and handmade condiments. These foods are like the invisible seam work underpinning a good dress, making it hang just so.
In addition to classics such as New England Grape Butter (here) and Cream Dressing for Salad (here), here are a few unusual gems, such as Tomato Figs (here), made by cooking tomatoes in syrup and then drying them in the sun; Homemade Butter and Buttermilk (here), whipped together in a mixer; and Worcestershire Sauce (here), mixed up in a Mason jar. You’ll notice that there’s a preponderance of nineteenth-century recipes in these pages: cooks then needed to store more food than we do and they were good at it, which made for recipes that lasted. I am indebted to Eugenia Bone, a preserves expert, who vetted (and often rewrote) the preserves and canning recipes—from the Rhubarb Marmalade here to the Bread-and-Butter Pickles here—to make sure they were up to USDA safety standards. What’s here includes just a sprinkling of jams and pickles and syrups; if you want to learn more about preserving food, pick up Bone’s book Well-Preserved.
Salad Dressings
Savory Sauces and Condiments
Sweet-and-Pulpy Tomato Ketchup
Homemade Butter and Buttermilk
Ravigote Froide (Herbed Mayonnaise with Cornichons)
Tartar Sauce (for Soft-Shell Crabs)
Tartar Sauce (for Fried Oysters)
Rémoulade Sauce (for Crab Cakes)
Sauce Bordelaise (A Red Wine Sauce)
Demi-Glace (A Basic Meat Glaze)
Sweet Sauces
Jams, Jellies, Compotes, Chutneys, and Marmalades
Green Tomato and Lemon Marmalade
Grapefruit and Meyer Lemon Marmalade
Florence La Ganke’s Three-Day Marmalade
Preserved Lemons with Cardamom and Bay Leaves
Pickles and Preserves
———
2½ pounds rhubarb, trimmed
3 oranges
4½ cups sugar
1. Cut the rhubarb into ½-inch-thick slices; you need 10 cups. Peel the zest from the oranges with a vegetable peeler, and cut the zest into small pieces; you need ½ cup. Cut the pith from the oranges, then slice the oranges in half like a grapefruit. Remove and discard the seeds. Cut the orange pulp into small chunks; you need 2½ cups.
2. Combine the rhubarb, oranges, and orange zest in a large heavy enameled cast-iron or other nonreactive pot, add the sugar, and bring to a simmer. Cook, stirring occasionally so the fruit doesn’t stick to the pan; you’ll need to stir more often as the marmalade thickens. Skim the foam as needed. The marmalade is ready when a spoonful dropped onto a plate sets when cool.
3. Have ready 6 scalded half-pint jars and screw bands, with new lids (see Cooking Notes). Simmer the lids in hot water to soften the rubberized flange. Ladle the marmalade into the jars leaving ¼-inch headspace. Wipe the rims. Put the lids on and screw on the bands fingertip tight.
4. Place the jars on a rack in a big pot and add water until it is 2 to 3 inches over the jars. Cover the pot and bring to a boil over high heat, then lower the heat to medium and boil gently for 15 minutes. Remove the lid and then, after about 5 minutes, remove the jars. Allow the jars to cool, untouched, for 4 to 6 hours.
5. Check the seals, and store in a cool, dark place for up to a year. Refrigerate after opening.
MAKES ABOUT 6 HALF-PINTS
COOKING NOTES
Always use a heavy nonreactive pot for preserves. I like enameled cast-iron because it holds heat well and the preserves tend not to stick or burn so easily.
To scald preserving jars, simply dip the jars in boiling water.
To sterilize preserving jars, boil the jars in water to cover for 10 minutes.
“Fingertip tight” means the band is screwed on as tight as you can when screwing on a band using your fingertips—in other words, not super-tight.
When filling jars, if you can’t completely fill the last jar, don’t sweat it—just put that one in the fridge and use it up in a week or two.
To check the seal on a jar, remove the band and lift the jar by its thin lid. If it’s sealed properly, it will hold.
To lessen the incidence of foam, add ½ teaspoon butter to the marmalade while it is cooking.
APRIL 16, 1876: “THE HOUSEHOLD.”
—1876
WORCESTERSHIRE SAUCE
This is a fun recipe because you discover that the mysterious dark sauce you’ve been dousing on burgers and adding to Caesar salad and Chex Mix your whole life is actually easy to make at home.
The original Lea & Perrins, made in Worcester, England, was fermented and contained, according to Wikipedia, “malt vinegar, spirit vinegar, molasses, sugar, salt, anchovies, tamarind extract, onions, garlic, spice, and flavouring.” Lea & Perrins’ American version leaves out the malt vinegar and substitutes high-fructose corn syrup for the sugar. This version is better than both—it’s sharp and peppery and much looser than commercial Worcestershire.
———
¼ pound shallots, chopped
2½ tablespoons ground allspice
1 tablespoon ground mace
2 teaspoons cayenne pepper
¼ nutmeg, grated
1 tablespoon plus ¾ teaspoon salt
One 2-ounce tin anchovy fillets, drained
6 tablespoons soy sauce
3 cups cider vinegar
1. Combine all the ingredients in a sterilized (see Cooking Notes, this page) 1-quart glass jar and screw the lid on tight. Refrigerate for 1 month, shaking the jar every other day or so.
2. Strain the sauce into another sterilized jar (or jars), and it’s ready to use. Keep refrigerated.
MAKES 3½ CUPS
SEPTEMBER 10, 1876: “THE HOUSEHOLD.”
—1876
———
2¾ pounds plums, halved and pitted
½ cup water
1 cup sugar, or as needed
1. Place the plums and water in a medium saucepan, cover, and bring to a boil, then reduce the heat and simmer until the plums are soft. The time will depend on the ripeness and variety of the plums.
2. Press the plums through a sieve into a bowl to remove the skins. Measure the juice and pulp; you should have about 2¾ cups. Combine this with 1 cup sugar in a medium heavy enameled cast-iron or other nonreactive saucepan. (If you have a different amount of juice, adjust the sugar accordingly.) Bring to a simmer over medium heat and simmer, stirring occasionally, until the jam thickens. To test it, spoon a little onto a plate and let it cool: if it sets, it’s ready.
3. Have ready 2 sterilized half-pint jars with screw bands and new lids (see Cooking Notes, here). Simmer the lids in hot water to soften the rubberized flange. Ladle the marmalade into the jars, leaving ¼-inch headspace. Wipe the rims. Put the lids on and screw on the bands fingertip tight.
4. Place the jars on a rack in a big pot and cover with 2 to 3 inches of water. Cover the pot and bring to a boil over high heat, then lower the heat to medium and gently boil for 10 minutes. Remove the lid and then, after about 5 minutes, remove the jars. Allow the jars to cool, untouched, for 4 to 6 hours.
5. Check the seals, and store in a cool, dark place for up to a year. Refrigerate after opening.
MAKES 2 HALF-PINTS
COOKING NOTE
Slightly underripe plums will make the jam thicken faster than ripe plums (green skins are higher in pectin, the thickening polysaccharide in fruits). A combination of ripe and underripe is ideal.
JULY 8, 1877: “RECEIPTS FOR THE TABLE.” RECIPE FROM BUCKEYE COOKERY.
—1877
STRAWBERRY JAM
This recipe was presented as instructions for jam made with any kind of fruit. Notice that the proportions of fruit to sugar are 1 to ¾; most modern jam recipes are 1 to 1, a ratio that masks the flavor of the fruit with sweetness. Another reason to restore the original ratio, according to Eugenia Bone, the author of Well-Preserved, who vetted this recipe for me, is that the gelling success rate will be much higher.
———
2 pounds strawberries (about 2 quarts)
1½ pounds sugar (3 cups)
1. Place the strawberries in a medium heavy enameled cast-iron or other nonreactive saucepan and gently mash the fruit with a potato masher or fork. Start over low heat and as the strawberries release their juices, increase the heat until the liquid simmers. Cook for 15 minutes.
2. Stir in the sugar and continue simmering, skimming often. The jam is ready when spoonful dropped onto a plate firms up when cool.
3. Have ready 3 sterilized half-pint jars with screw bands and new lids (see Cooking Notes, here). Simmer the lids in hot water to soften the rubberized flange. Ladle the jam into the jars, leaving ¼-inch headspace. Wipe the rims. Put the lids on and screw on the bands fingertip tight.
4. Place the jars on a rack in a big pot and cover with 2 to 3 inches of water. Cover the pot and bring to a boil over high heat, then lower the heat to medium and boil gently for 5 minutes. Remove the lid and then, after about 10 minutes, remove the jars. Allow the jars to cool, untouched, for 4 to 6 hours.
5. Check the seals, and store in a cool, dark place for up to a year. Refrigerate after opening.
MAKES 3 HALF-PINTS
To lessen the incidence of foam, add ½ teaspoon of butter to the marmalade while it is cooking.
JULY 8, 1877: “RECEIPTS FOR THE TABLE.” RECIPE FROM BUCKEYE COOKERY.
—1877
TOMATO FIGS
These are odd, and wonderfully so. You simmer tomatoes in a sugar syrup to candy them, dry them in the sun for 2 days, and then dust them with confectioners’ sugar. The reader who contributed this recipe (several versions of which show up in the nineteenth-century archive) said their flavor “is nearly that of the best quality of fresh figs.” I’d say they’re just as great, but much more acutely sweet and assertive.
———
4 pounds small slightly underripe plum tomatoes (about 24 tomatoes)
1½ pounds granulated sugar (3 cups)
Confectioners’ sugar
1. Core the tomatoes, then peel them by cutting a shallow X in their rounded end, dipping them in boiling water for 30 seconds, and slipping off the skins.
2. Place the tomatoes in a large heavy enameled cast-iron or other nonreactive saucepan, pour in the sugar, and bring to a simmer over medium heat, stirring to dissolve the sugar. Cook gently until the tomatoes are translucent on the edges and candied, 45 minutes to 1 hour.
3. Use a slotted spoon to lift the tomatoes from the syrup, lay them on a baking sheet, and let cool. Let the tomato syrup cool, then bottle it and keep refrigerated (for up to 3 months). Cover the tomatoes with another baking sheet and gently press on the top sheet to flatten the tomatoes and press out excess juices.
4. Brush a wire rack with oil and lay the tomatoes on it. Wrap the rack in cheesecloth (or if you have some other netting contraption to keep out flies, feel free to use it). Put the rack on a baking sheet and set it out in the sun for 2 days to dry the tomatoes, bringing them in at night.
5. Unwrap the tomatoes. Dust them with confectioners’ sugar, tapping off the excess. You can store them between layers of wax paper in plastic containers or tins in a cool place for up to a month, or you can devour them right away.
MAKES 20 TO 24 TOMATO FIGS
COOKING NOTES
Check the weather before planning a batch. You’ll need 2 straight sunny, nonhumid days to dry the tomatoes.
Select slightly underripe tomatoes, which hold up better when simmered.
SERVING SUGGESTIONS
Eat the figs like candy. My sister, Rhonda, who also made them, served them with a platter of cheeses. Use the leftover syrup for sprinkling on ice cream. Or add it to salad dressings. Brush it between layers of cake. Sprinkle a few drops into a vodka cocktail. Slip some into the broth you use to braise short ribs.
JULY 22, 1877: “RECEIPTS FOR THE TABLE.”
—1877
TOMATO KETCHUP
If you don’t love the pungency of Worcestershire and Tabasco, this may not be your thing. For everyone else, this is your dream ketchup and hot sauce rolled into one. First, you’re slapped by cayenne, then numbed with clove, then shaken back awake with mustard vinegar. It’s masochistic, and invigorating. And the dish is the perfect accompaniment to a lamb burger.
Not that that’s what Mrs. William Craren, the author of this recipe, had in mind for it. Everyone in the late nineteenth century had a recipe for “catsup,” and many versions ended up in the paper. Most were variations on the same theme—tomatoes boiled down with spices such as nutmeg, clove, cayenne, and pepper, then finished with vinegar. With Mrs. Craren’s recipe, you end up with a sauce that’s dark, incisive, and a little looser than Heinz.
I did not provide canning instructions here because the recipe doesn’t contain enough vinegar or onion to be considered safe by today’s standards, but I didn’t want to fiddle with the flavor, which is terrific as is. So make this and keep it in your fridge. It doesn’t yield much anyhow—a few barbecues, and it’ll be gone. (For a larger amount, simply double or triple the recipe.)
———
4 pounds tomatoes, peeled, cored, and sliced
About 1 tablespoon kosher salt
1 small onion, finely chopped
3 tablespoons cider vinegar (5% acidity)
2 teaspoons dry mustard
1½ teaspoons ground cloves
½ teaspoon cayenne pepper, less if you don’t like heat
¾ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1 teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg
1. Layer the tomatoes in a bowl with a sprinkling of salt. Using a potato masher, lightly squash them. Cover and let sit out overnight.
2. The next day, pass the tomatoes and juices through the finest plate of a food mill. Measure the juices and pulp. You should have about 6 cups. Pour into a medium heavy enameled cast-iron or other nonreactive pot, bring to a boil over medium-high heat, and reduce the juices by half.
3. Add the onion, vinegar, and mustard and boil for 30 minutes, stirring occasionally.
4. Add the cloves, cayenne, and black pepper and continue cooking for a few minutes, until the ketchup is a consistency that you like. Stir in the nutmeg. Add more salt if needed.
5. Ladle the ketchup into a jar and let cool, then seal and refrigerate. (The ketchup will keep for a month.)
MAKES 1 CUP
COOKING NOTE
If you want a smoother sauce, pass the finished ketchup through a food mill.
PERIOD DETAILS
Another common condiment of the time was “tomato soy,” which combined tomatoes, vinegar, sugar, and cloves, cooked down to a thick sauce. (The proportions: 16 pounds tomatoes, 1 quart vinegar, 3½ pounds sugar, and 1 ounce cloves.)
In the nineteenth century, Times recipes were lumped into a weekly Sunday column called “The Household” that often contained domestic remedies as well. This one appeared a few recipes away from the following entry:
To Rid a Dog of Fleas: Wash him thoroughly with common soft soap, such as they use onboard ships; or place him on a newspaper and rub Persian Insect powder well over him, and the fleas will drop out on the paper and die almost immediately. This method is also effective with cats. —Bow Wow.”
AUGUST 26, 1877: “THE HOUSEHOLD.” RECIPE SIGNED MRS. WILLIAM CRAREN.
—1877
CREAM DRESSING FOR SALAD
Many old school dressings were as hearty as mud. You didn’t so much dress a lettuce leaf, you clobbered it, which meant a salad could not only fill you up but make you want to lie down. This egg-and-cream-thickened dressing is relatively light, and incredibly delicious.
Although it’s still too hefty for sweet, fragile lettuces, it’s endlessly handy. I used it on arugula, romaine hearts, and seeded and slivered black tomatoes; as a sauce with roasted lamb; to bind a salad of roasted chicken and arugula; and with arugula and artichoke hearts. And then it was gone. If you’ve never made a cooked dressing before, it’s a treat. As you whisk the dressing, it foams and thickens, like warm pudding.
———
3 large eggs
6 tablespoons heavy cream
3 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted
1 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon Colman’s prepared mustard
½ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
¼ cup cider vinegar
Whisk together the eggs, cream, butter, salt, mustard, and pepper in the top of a double boiler set over medium heat. Once the mixture is warm, whisk in the vinegar and continue to cook, whisking. After a few minutes, the mixture will foam and then quickly thicken; it’s done when it’s the thickness of crème anglaise. Be careful not to curdle it: pull it on and off the heat as you go if necessary. Let cool. The dressing keeps, refrigerated, for up to a week.
MAKES ABOUT 1 CUP
APRIL 7, 1878: “THE HOUSEHOLD.” RECIPE SIGNED NELLIE.
—1878
BORDEAUX JELLY
Wine jellies (which are more Jell-O than jelly) tend to be found chopped into Lilliputian cubes, speckling the edge of a dessert plate as an adornment to pies, cakes, or confections. Here, however, you end up with a mold too large, bouncy, and boozy to serve as a sidelight. Yet I wasn’t quite sure I had the nerve to serve the jelly as is—it’s wonderfully intense, but it needs a counterpoint so it doesn’t become too monotonous. I suggest Sour Cream Ice Cream (here), Lindy’s Cheesecake (here), Chamomile and Almond Cake (here), or New Jersey Blancmange (here).
———
1 (750-ml) bottle dry red wine, preferably Bordeaux
6 tablespoons Cognac or other brandy
Juice of 1 lemon
1 cup plus 1 tablespoon sugar
Two ¼-ounce packets powdered gelatin, dissolved in 2 tablespoons water
Bring the wine, Cognac, lemon, and sugar to a boil in a medium saucepan. Add the gelatin and stir until dissolved. Pour into a round (or any shape you like) mold. Let cool to room temperature, then refrigerate overnight.
MAKES ABOUT 5 CUPS
COOKING NOTE
You can halve the recipe if you don’t want to be eating wine jelly for the next 2 weeks.
MAY 11, 1879: “RECEIPTS FOR THE TABLE.” RECIPE SIGNED LE DOCTEUR DE M.
—1879
DULCE DE LECE [SIC]
“This is a Spanish sweetmeat, and can be used as a sauce for pudding, or can be spread on bread for children,” wrote B. C. Orange, a reader who contributed this recipe in 1879. B. C. Orange, you were way ahead of your time!
———
4 cups whole milk
2 cups sugar
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1 teaspoon all-purpose flour
Whisk together the milk, sugar, cinnamon, and flour in a medium heavy saucepan. Bring almost to a boil, then reduce the heat and cook at a slow simmer, stirring every 10 minutes or so, until the mixture thickens and turns a leathery brown, 2 to 3 hours. It’s done when a spoonful dropped onto a plate sets up like jelly.
MAKES ABOUT 3 CUPS
COOKING NOTE
In the beginning, the mixture has a tendency to boil over. Keep the heat low and keep an eye on it. If it boils up, whisk it back down.
DECEMBER 14, 1879: “RECEIPTS FOR THE TABLE.” RECIPE BY B. C. ORANGE.
—1879
CHOW-CHOW
A classic chow-chow—a pickled vegetable relish—with an emphasis on clove, the trademark flavor of the 1880s.
———
4 cups sliced cabbage (about ¼ head)
2 cups sliced green tomatoes
2 cups sliced onions
6 cups sliced Kirby cucumbers (about 8 cucumbers)
¼ cup sliced red and green bell peppers
¼ cup kosher salt
1½ teaspoons black peppercorns
1¼ teaspoons whole cloves
1 teaspoon mustard seeds
1 teaspoon dry mustard
1½ teaspoons turmeric
½ cup packed dark brown sugar
¼ cup grated fresh horseradish
4 cups cider vinegar (5% acidity)
1. Set a large plastic or other nonreactive strainer over a bowl and add the cabbage, tomatoes, onions, cucumbers, and peppers. Toss with the salt, cover, and let stand in a cool place overnight.
2. The next day, discard the drained-off liquid. Transfer the vegetables to a large enameled cast-iron or other nonreactive pot, add the spices, sugar, and horseradish, and pour in the vinegar. Bring to a boil and cook for 20 minutes. The cabbage and onions should be tender but not falling apart. Continue cooking if needed. If not, remove from the heat.
3. Have ready 10 sterilized half-pint jars with screw bands and new lids (see Cooking Notes, here). Simmer the lids in hot water to soften the rubberized flange. Ladle the chow-chow into the jars, leaving ½-inch headspace. Remove any air bubbles trapped in the jars by running a sterilized butter knife between the sides of the jars and the chow-chow. Wipe the rims. Put the lids on and screw on the bands fingertip tight.
4. Place the jars on a rack in a big pot and cover with 2 to 3 inches of water. Cover the pot and bring to a boil over high heat, then lower the heat to medium and boil gently for 10 minutes. Remove the lid and then, after about 5 minutes, remove the jars. Allow the jars to cool, untouched, for 4 to 6 hours.
5. Check the seals, and store in a cool, dark place for up to a year. Refrigerate after opening.
MAKES 10 HALF-PINTS
COOKING NOTES
I quartered the original recipe. Old canning recipes were not meant to be a soul-replenishing weekend project, but were regarded as a necessity to carry you and your seven children through a long, barren winter, and so the amounts involved were often colossal.
SERVING SUGGESTIONS
North Carolina–Style Pulled Pork (here), the ‘21’ Club Hamburger (here), French Fries (here), and other barbecue foods.
OCTOBER 3, 1880: “RECEIPTS.”
—1880
HORSERADISH SAUCE
This republished recipe from Mary Lincoln, presumably conceived before she lost her mind, is one of a handful of recipes from First Families and their cooks that have been printed in the Times. See Huguenot Torte, served in the White House during Martin Van Buren’s presidency, here; Roman Punch, here; and Nancy Reagan’s Monkey Bread, here.
This is essentially whipped cream seasoned with salt, pepper, and horseradish, which means its moussey texture conceals a good punch of flavor. You’ll want to eat it with a spoon. By yourself. I make a similar sauce to serve with smoked salmon, although I add fresh herbs and capers to it. Keep it chilled, or the horseradish will cause the cream to weep.
———
1 cup heavy cream
½ teaspoon salt
½ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
3 tablespoons prepared horseradish (drained a little if watery)
Watercress for garnish
Whip the cream until it holds soft peaks. Fold in the salt, pepper, and horseradish. Serve in a shallow dish, garnished with watercress, if desired.
MAKES ABOUT 2 CUPS
SERVING SUGGESTIONS
Use in cold roast beef sandwiches, or serve with smoked salmon, Braised Stuffed Breast of Veal (here), leftovers from High-Temperature Roast Lamb (here), or Ann Seranne’s Rib Roast of Beef (here).
APRIL 11, 1897: “SOME SEASONABLE RECEIPTS: HOT CROSS BUNS FOR GOOD FRIDAY—MAKING OF EASTER EGGS—JOLLY BOYS AND TWISTERS.” RECIPE ADAPTED FROM MARY LINCOLN.
—1897
This is essentially tomato aspic. Served with cold meats, this jelly, the story said, “will prove both decorative and tasty.” If you suffer from aspicaphobia, a common affliction, keep in mind that vegetable aspics shouldn’t be lumped with meat aspics; while the latter bring to mind bones and marrow and gelatinous substances, the former are just your favorite vegetables, seasoned and mixed with gelatin. How bad could that be?
———
4 cups chopped tomatoes
⅓ cup chopped onion
1¼ cups water
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
Paprika
Worcestershire sauce
One ¼-ounce packet powdered gelatin
1. Combine the tomatoes, onion, and 1 cup water in a saucepan and bring to a boil, then reduce the heat and simmer for 10 minutes. Strain into a bowl. Season generously with salt, pepper, paprika, and Worcestershire sauce.
2. Pour the remaining ¼ cup water into a small bowl and sprinkle the gelatin over the top. Let sit for 5 minutes.
3. Stir the gelatin into the tomato mixture until fully dissolved. Pour into a 9-inch pie plate or other mold and let cool, then refrigerate until set.
4. To unmold, dip the bottom of the pie plate in a bowl of hot water, then flip the tomato jelly onto a cutting board. Finely chop and pile into a bowl. Serve as a condiment.
MAKES 2 CUPS
COOKING NOTE
I used a pie plate to mold the jelly because I was in a summer house when I made it, and my selection of molds was boring at best. Pull down that mold you’ve been using for decoration, dust it off, and make it proud with some aspic.
SERVING SUGGESTIONS
Serve with Roast Chicken Salad (here), leftover High-Temperature Roast Lamb (here), Cold Beef with Tarragon Vinaigrette (here), Elizabeth Frink’s Roast Lemon Chicken (here).
OCTOBER 6, 1907: “TURTLE AND PARTRIDGE FIND MANY PATRONS.”
—1907
RAVIGOTE FROIDE (HERBED MAYONNAISE WITH CORNICHONS)
Ravigote and tartar sauce (see this page) are very similar except that ravigote is more about herbs (parsley and tarragon) and tartar is more about pungency (capers and shallots).
———
½ cup mayonnaise
2 tablespoons chopped flat-leaf parsley
1 tablespoon chopped tarragon
2 tablespoons finely chopped cornichons
Stir together the mayonnaise, parsley, tarragon, and cornichons. You’re done.
MAKES ABOUT ¾ CUP
SERVING SUGGESTIONS
Use ravigote as you would tartar sauce, with chilled lobster and shrimp, fried oysters, or soft-shell crabs. I also like ravigote with sliced cold chicken and lamb.
MAY 23, 1909: “SECRETS OF FRENCH COOKING,” BY LAURA A. SMITH.
—1909
TARTAR SAUCE
What’s great about this tartar sauce is that instead of the usual arrangement—capers and shallots lost in a sea of mayonnaise—here there are so many capers and shallots that the mayonnaise merely dresses them.
———
2 tablespoons chopped capers
2 tablespoons finely chopped shallots
Stir together the mayonnaise, capers, and shallots.
MAKES ¾ CUP
SERVING SUGGESTIONS
Serve with Crab Cakes Baltimore-Style (here), or Deep-Fried Soft-Shell Crabs (here).
MAY 23, 1909: “SECRETS OF FRENCH COOKING,” BY LAURA A. SMITH.
—1909
BARBECUE SAUCE
8 tablespoons (1 stick) unsalted butter, melted
1 teaspoon dry mustard
Dash of cayenne pepper
1 teaspoon Tabasco sauce
2 tablespoons ketchup
2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
2 tablespoons cider vinegar
½ teaspoon onion salt
½ teaspoon garlic salt
1 tablespoon tomato sauce
2 tablespoons finely chopped flat-leaf parsley
¼ cup water
Combine all the ingredients in a bowl, blending well.
MAKES ENOUGH TO BASTE 2 CHICKENS OR PROPORTIONATE QUANTITIES OF MEAT
JANUARY 8, 1939: “IN HARLEM NEW FRONTIERS AWAIT THE GOURMET,” BY AUGUST LOEB.
—1939
SCHRAFFT’S MINT SAUCE
Schrafft’s, a popular restaurant in New York City, served this sauce with lamb, but it’s not the kind of mint sauce you’re picturing. Here the emphasis is divided between orange and mint, with a background scent of currants. I served this with High-Temperature Roast Lamb here, cold and sliced. But I’d also happily eat it spread on toast with salted butter.
———
ORIGINAL RECIPE
“At Schrafft’s mint will come to the table chaperoned by currant jelly. Into a glassful of the jelly, two tablespoons of grated orange rind and six of finely cut mint leaves are gently folded to complete a trinity of color, flavor and fragrance as sweet as a Spring morning.”
MAKES 1 CUP
COOKING NOTE
I took a “glassful of the jelly” to mean 1 cup.
MARCH 17, 1940: “VICTUALS AND VITAMINS,” BY KILEY TAYLOR.
—1940
SAUCE SUPRÊME
This eggy, boozy sauce, adapted from Schrafft’s restaurant in New York City, was supposed to be served with blueberry waffles, but it would go well with almost any dessert. It is nearly the same as the Foamy Sauce here, but I included them both because this one contains an important distinguishing ingredient: salt.
———
2 large eggs, separated
5 tablespoons light brown sugar
1 cup heavy cream
3 tablespoons rum
¼ teaspoon salt
1. Whisk together the egg yolks and ¼ cup sugar in a large bowl until thickened. Whip the egg whites with the remaining tablespoon of sugar in another bowl until they form stiff peaks. Whip the cream in another bowl until it also holds stiff peaks.
2. Fold the whites into the yolks, followed by the cream. Fold in the rum and salt, blending well. The sauce will keep in the fridge for up to a week.
MAKES ABOUT 6 CUPS
SERVING SUGGESTION
If you’d like to serve this with waffles, try the Amazing Overnight Waffles here.
JULY 7, 1940: “VICTUALS AND VITAMINS,” BY KILEY TAYLOR. RECIPE ADAPTED FROM SCHRAFFT’S RESTAURANT IN NEW YORK CITY.
—1940
FRENCH DRESSING
The classic proportions, in case you don’t already know them.
———
1 clove garlic
¼ teaspoon salt
Freshly ground black pepper
½ teaspoon Colman’s prepared mustard
1 tablespoon red wine vinegar
3 tablespoons olive oil
Lettuce, including some watercress
Rub a salad bowl with the garlic clove. Add the salt, pepper to taste, and mustard. Stir in the vinegar until the mixture is smooth. Gradually whisk in the olive oil until thick, shiny, and emulsified. Adjust the seasoning.
MAKES ¼ CUP
COOKING NOTE
After the dressing is made, Kiley Taylor, a Times columnist, instructs you to add lettuce, “washed and dried and chilled,” to the dressing and turn and toss “until each sprig glistens. And be sure to put in some watercress.”
VARIATION
For sauce vinaigrette, Taylor said to replace the red wine vinegar with 2 teaspoons cider vinegar and 1 teaspoon tarragon vinegar and add chopped pickles and green pepper (no amounts given) and 1 teaspoon each chopped parsley and chives.
APRIL 13, 1941: “VICTUALS AND VITAMINS: THE QUESTION OF OIL AND VINEGAR,” BY KILEY TAYLOR.
—1941
GREEN MAYONNAISE
If you’re using store-bought mayonnaise—I used Hellmann’s—season it with lemon juice before adding the herbs. If you’d like to make your own mayonnaise, there’s an excellent recipe here.
———
1 tablespoon thinly sliced chives
1 tablespoon finely chopped tarragon
1½ tablespoons finely chopped flat-leaf parsley
1 teaspoon finely chopped chervil
1 teaspoon finely chopped dill
About ½ cup mayonnaise
Lemon juice to taste (if using store-bought mayonnaise)
Salt
Combine the herbs in a bowl. Add the mayonnaise (blended with lemon juice if using store-bought) a little at a time, tasting as you go, until you have something you like. Season with salt if needed.
MAKES ¾ CUP
SERVING SUGGESTIONS
Spread on sandwiches, dollop on a warm, ripe tomato half, or use as a dipping sauce for artichokes and asparagus.
APRIL 13, 1941: “VICTUALS AND VITAMINS: THE QUESTION OF OIL AND VINEGAR,” BY KILEY TAYLOR.
—1941
———
2½ pounds medium green tomatoes
6 tablespoons kosher salt
2 cups cider vinegar (5% acidity)
¾ cup granulated sugar
½ cup packed dark brown sugar
2 tablespoons mustard seeds
1 teaspoon celery seeds
1½ teaspoons turmeric
2¼ pounds onions, sliced
2 large green bell peppers, cored, seeded, and chopped
1 hot red chile, chopped
1. Slice the tomatoes into wedges (8 to 10 per tomato). Toss with the salt in a bowl, cover, and let stand in a cool place overnight.
2. Bring the vinegar, sugars, mustard seeds, celery seeds, and turmeric to a boil in a large enameled cast-iron or other nonreactive pot. Add the onions and cook for 5 minutes. Add the tomatoes and peppers and bring to a boil, then reduce the heat and simmer for 5 minutes, stirring often.
3. Have ready 12 sterilized half-pint jars with screw bands and new lids (see Cooking Notes, here). Simmer the lids in hot water to soften the rubberized flange. Ladle the pickle into the jars leaving ½-inch headspace. Remove any air bubbles trapped in the jars by running a sterilized butter knife between the sides of the jars and the pickles. Wipe the rim. Put the lids on and screw on the bands fingertip tight.
4. Place the jars on a rack in a big pot and cover with 2 to 3 inches of water. Cover the pot and bring to a boil over high heat, then lower the heat to medium and boil gently for 10 minutes. Remove the lid and then, after about 5 minutes, remove the jars. Allow the jars to cool, untouched, for 4 to 6 hours.
5. Check the seals, and store in a cool, dark place for up to a year. Refrigerate after opening.
MAKES 12 HALF-PINTS
SEPTEMBER 19, 1944: “NEWS OF FOOD: GREEN TOMATOES PUT TO GOOD USE IN MAKING OF PICKLES AND RELISHES,” BY JANE HOLT.
—1944
PICKLED WATERMELON RIND
The rind is to the flesh of a watermelon as mace is to nutmeg—it retains the crispness of the flesh, but it has a tart vegetal flavor. Here the rind is suspended in a sweet and tart syrup, infused with allspice, cloves, cinnamon, and lemon zest.
This recipe was part of a story geared toward city dwellers who didn’t have the space necessary to make large batches of pickles and preserves. Jane Nickerson, the Times columnist who wrote the story, made the still-valid point that pickling and preserving can be done in small batches so the work is more like darning a sock than sewing a pleated skirt.
———
3 pounds watermelon rind (from a medium watermelon)
6 cups cold water
¼ cup canning salt
1 tablespoon allspice berries
1 tablespoon whole cloves
2 tablespoons broken cinnamon sticks
½ cup water
1½ cups cider vinegar (5% acidity)
2 cups light corn syrup
1½ cups sugar
Zest of ½ lemon—removed in strips with a vegetable peeler
1. Cut the watermelon rind into large pieces. Use a vegetable peeler to remove the green skin. Use a spoon to scoop out any remaining pink flesh. Cut the rind into 1-inch squares and measure: there should be about 8 cups.
2. Mix the cold water with the salt in a bowl large enough to hold the rind. Add the rind and allow to stand overnight.
3. Drain and rinse the rind. Place in a large saucepan, cover with water, and bring to a simmer. Simmer until tender, 8 to 10 minutes. Drain.
4. Tie the spices in a piece of cheesecloth. Combine the spices, ½ cup water, vinegar, corn syrup, sugar, and lemon zest in a large enameled cast-iron or other nonreactive saucepan and bring to a boil. Add the watermelon rind and simmer until translucent, about 45 minutes. Remove the spice bag.
5. Have ready 5 sterilized half-pint jars with screw bands and new lids (see Cooking Notes, here). Simmer the lids in hot water to soften the rubberized flange. Pack the pickle into the jars and cover with the syrup, leaving ½-inch headspace. Remove any air bubbles trapped in the jars by running a sterilized butter knife between the sides of the jars and the pickles. Wipe the rim. Put the lids on and screw on the bands fingertip tight.
6. Place the jars on a rack in a big pot and cover with 2 to 3 inches of water. Cover the pot and bring to a boil over high heat, then lower the heat to medium and boil gently for 10 minutes. Remove the lid and then, after about 5 minutes, remove the jars. Allow the jars to cool, untouched, for 4 to 6 hours.
7. Check the seals, and store in a cool, dark place for up to a year. Refrigerate after opening.
MAKES ABOUT 5 HALF-PINTS
COOKING NOTE
Do not process a half-packed jar, or you risk compromising the seal. If your rind doesn’t fit evenly into jars, fill up as many as you can, and eat the remaining rind—problem solved!
SERVING SUGGESTIONS
Mint Julep (here), North Carolina–Style Pulled Pork (here), Old South Buttermilk Biscuits (here), Summer Squash Casserole (here), Fresh Succotash (here), Docks Coleslaw (here), Buttermilk Pie (here)
JULY 17, 1946: “NEWS OF FOOD: PICKLING AND PRESERVING IN SMALL LOTS NOW ECONOMICAL FOR CITY HOUSEWIFE,” BY JANE NICKERSON.
—1946
BRANDIED PEACHES
Canning fruit, like many domestic arts, has traveled the diminishing path from a technique universally practiced to a craft reserved for those with the luxury of time. But time is all we have, and I vote for spending that time eating delicious food.
The time it takes to can a few peaches will be rewarded with hours of eating well. Think of it this way: if you choose to watch a rerun of Friends rather than whip up some canned peaches one night this summer, in the middle of February you’ll find yourself eating Chunky Monkey for dessert when you could be indulging in a bowl of juicy peaches, lightly glazed in syrup.
Many of the traditional modes of canning peaches—peach jam, peach chutney, canned peach halves—are still common today. Brandied peaches, however, which were popular as far back as the nineteenth century, are now a relic of old cookbooks. It’s time to rectify this historical misjudgment: brandied peaches not only taste better than other canned peaches—with each bit of sweetness, you get a little zing—they’re remarkably handy. For a simple dessert, I like to spoon the peaches into small bowls and splash them with cream. You can also blend them into ice cream, add them to a drink, or slip a few into a sauce for pork.
When I tasted a batch of these with Eugenia Bone, the author of Well-Preserved, she said, “Can’t you see people having them after some continental-style dinner in Westport?” It’s true: they’re boozy and restrained, and they’d go perfectly with chintz.
———
3 pounds ripe peaches
3 cups water
3 cups sugar
About ½ cup brandy
1. Bring a large pot of water to a boil. Using the tip of a paring knife, make a shallow X in the bottom of each peach. Add the peaches a few at a time to the boiling water and cook for 1 minute, then plunge into a bowl of ice water. Peel the peaches, then pit and quarter them.
2. Combine the 3 cups water and sugar in a large pot and bring to a boil, stirring to dissolve the sugar. Add the peaches and cook until just soft (time will depend on the ripeness of the fruit).
3. Have ready 2 scalded pint jars with screw bands and new lids. (To scald, see Cooking Notes, here.) Simmer the lids in hot water to soften the rubberized flange. Using a slotted spoon, gently pack the peaches into the jars.
4. Boil the poaching syrup until it thickens slightly, then spoon it over the fruit, filling the jars three-quarters full. Remove any air bubbles trapped in the jars by running a sterilized butter knife between the sides of the jars and the peaches. Pour in enough brandy to fill the jars, leaving ½-inch headspace. Wipe the rims. Put the lids on and screw on the bands fingertip tight.
5. Place the jars on a rack in a big pot and cover with 2 to 3 inches of water. Cover the pot and bring to a boil over high heat, then lower the heat to medium and gently boil for 20 minutes. Remove the lid and then, after about 5 minutes, remove the jars. Allow the jars to cool, untouched, for 4 to 6 hours.
6. Check the seals, and store in a cool, dark place for up to a year. Refrigerate after opening.
MAKES 2 PINTS
COOKING NOTES
Three pounds of peaches yielded 1 quart of brandied peaches. The recipe can be doubled, tripled, even sextupled!
If there’s no brandy in your house, substitute bourbon, rum, or an eau-de-vie.
SERVING SUGGESTIONS
Keep the canning syrup simple, and get creative once you open the jar. Slice the peaches and arrange them between layers of a cake. Douse them with cream and accompany with ginger cookies. Add some to your granola for a breakfast of champions.
AUGUST 18, 1946: “PUTTING UP PEACHES,” BY JANE NICKERSON.
—1946
BREAD-AND-BUTTER PICKLES
The molasses turns the pickles the color of stained wood, which may needlessly alarm anyone who grew up on the golden green kind. If you want them golden, use regular sugar.
———
4 cups thinly sliced Kirby cucumbers (about 2 pounds)
2 cups sliced onions
¼ cup kosher salt
Ice cubes
2 cups white vinegar (5% acidity)
¾ cup molasses or 1½ cups sugar
2 teaspoons celery seeds
2 teaspoons mustard seeds
1½ teaspoons turmeric
1. Combine the cucumbers, onions, and salt in a large bowl and stir to mix. Cover with ice cubes and refrigerate for 4 to 8 hours. Drain.
2. Combine the vinegar, molasses, celery seeds, mustard seeds, and turmeric in a large pot, bring to a boil, and boil gently for 10 minutes. Add the cucumbers and onions, and slowly bring to a boil again.
3. Have ready 3 sterilized pint jars with screw bands and new lids (see Cooking Notes, here). Simmer the lids in hot water to soften the rubberized flange. Pack the pickles into the jars and cover with the pickling solution, leaving ½-inch headspace. Remove any air bubbles trapped in the jars by running a sterilized butter knife between the sides of the jars and the pickles. Wipe the rims. Put the lids on and screw on the bands fingertip tight.
4. Place the jars on a rack in a big pot and cover with 2 to 3 inches of water. Cover the pot and bring to a boil over high heat, then lower the heat to medium and gently boil the jars for 10 minutes. Remove the lid and then, after about 5 minutes, remove the jars. Allow the jars to cool, untouched, for 4 to 6 hours.
5. Check the seals, and store in a cool, dark place for up to a year. Refrigerate after opening.
MAKES 3 PINTS
AUGUST 28, 1946: “NEWS OF FOOD: HOW TO SELECT VEGETABLES FOR PICKLING, AND SOME TIPS ON CANNING THEM AT HOME,” BY JANE NICKERSON.
—1946
NEW ENGLAND GRAPE BUTTER
Among common American grape varietals, the Concord is probably the most peculiar, a “slipskin”—its tart covering acts like a separate shell encasing the fragrant pulp and seeds, so with a gentle pinch, you can pull the skin from the fruit. In a perfect world, the grape would lose its seeds as well, and you’d just eat the fragrant pulp. However, the Concord became popular not because it’s easy to eat, but because it was one of the few varieties that could survive New England’s harsh winters. It was bred for hardiness in the nineteenth century by Ephraim Wales Bull, a farmer outside of Boston, who, despite honors from the Boston Horticultural Society, apparently never felt he got the credit he deserved. His tombstone bears the inscription “He sowed—others reaped.”
Concords are best pressed into juice or cooked. As Jane Nickerson, the columnist who wrote the piece, noted, grape butter is a good use of the fruit because it’s “easiest to make and useful in these days of high prices for dairy butter.” Grape butter is a little thicker than jelly, and it’s hard to ruin.
———
Concord grapes stemmed
Sugar
1. Place the grapes in a sturdy pot, large enough that the grapes come just halfway up the sides. Add cold water to barely cover the bottom of the pot, place over medium heat, and cook until the skins pop and the pulp starts to break down. Let cool slightly.
2. Pass the grapes and liquid through the finest plate of a food mill. Measure the liquid and pulp. Clean the pot and add the grape juice and pulp. Add half as much sugar. Place over medium heat, bring to a simmer, and simmer, stirring occasionally, until the mixture is thick enough to spread. As it gets closer to being done, turn the heat down to avoid scorching the butter. The thicker the butter gets, the greater the chance it will scorch. Test it by spooning a small amount onto a plate and letting it cool: it should be a little stiffer than jelly.
3. Have ready 1 sterilized half-pint jar with a screw band and new lid for every 1½ pounds of grapes (see Cooking Notes, here). Simmer the lids in hot water to soften the rubberized flange. Spoon the butter into the jars, leaving ¼-inch headspace. Use a sterilized butter knife to remove any air bubbles that may have become trapped in the jars. Wipe the rims. Put the lids on and screw on the bands fingertip tight.
4. Place the jars on a rack in a big pot and cover with 2 to 3 inches of water. Cover the pot and bring to a boil over high heat, then lower the heat to medium and gently boil the jars for 10 minutes. Remove the lid and then, after about 5 minutes, remove the jars. Allow the jars to cool, untouched, for 4 to 6 hours.
5. Check the seals, and store in a cool, dark place for up to a year. Refrigerate after opening.
COOKING NOTES
This recipe can be prepared with any amount of grapes. I started with 1½ pounds. After the initial cooking and straining, this yielded 3 cups of juice. I added 1½ cups of sugar to the juice. Once reduced and thickened, this made about 1¼ cups of grape butter.
Fruit butters are best cooked in a heavy pot, such as enameled cast-iron, to reduce the risk of scorching.
Fruit butter is ready when it mounds on a spoon and when a ring of liquid does not separate around the edge of the butter.
PERIOD DETAIL
The 1947 grape crop was a whopper, according to Nickerson’s article. California produced 3,000,000 tons of grapes, 600,000 tons of which were eaten fresh. You would think that with huge growth in the wine industry over the most recent decade, those numbers would be much greater today, but the total grape harvest in 2005, another record year, was just 4,300,000 tons.
OCTOBER 4, 1947: “NEWS OF FOOD: THIS IS THE SEASON FOR GRAPES, AND CROPS ON EAST, WEST COASTS MAY BREAK RECORDS,” BY JANE NICKERSON.
—1947
SAUCE RÉMOULADE (FOR SHRIMP)
———
¼ cup Creole mustard
2 tablespoons chopped cornichons, or other sour pickles
¾ cup French dressing
2 tablespoons chopped scallions
2 tablespoons prepared horseradish (drained a little if watery)
⅛ teaspoon cayenne pepper
Mix all the ingredients thoroughly. Chill and use to dress shrimp for a first course. Garnish with lettuce.
MAKES 1 CUP
Serve with shrimp, of course, and with Fried Green Tomatoes (here) or Deep-Fried Soft-Shell Crabs (here).
NOVEMBER 16, 1947: “FOOD: CREOLE FLAVOR,” BY JANE NICKERSON.
—1947
TOMATO PRESERVES
Time has a way of winnowing recipes, leaving behind the forlorn and ill-conceived, those requiring pot-washing marathons. And because time doesn’t look back, great foods occasionally get lost along the way. But, really, how could we have let tomato preserves slip away?
A few years ago, I began spotting marmellata di pomodori, tomato marmalade, a seemingly exotic novelty from the land of culinary wisdom in New York restaurants and shops. It seemed so perfectly Mediterranean, emitting warmth, intensity, and the promise of a lifestyle we will never have. Only we didn’t actually need to import it, because we had already done so long ago.
“Americans were big preservers,” said Stephen Schmidt, a culinary historian and the author of the forthcoming book Dessert in America. Homemakers going back to the eighteenth century put up tomatoes in syrup, then served them on their own with custard or as a condiment for desserts like sago pudding, a tapioca-like dish. Later came tomato jelly and jam (sometimes called marmalade). These tomato recipes, which appeared in many cookbooks, including The Virginia House-Wife and The Fannie Farmer Cookbook, often contained lemon or ginger, and the preserves in syrup were sometimes made with yellow tomatoes. “One of the criteria for these preserves was for the syrup to be clear,” Schmidt said. “That was a point of pride. Women clarified the sugar before making the preserve.” (Clarifying is no longer necessary now that sugar is commercially produced.)
In 1948, the heyday of canned foods and the sunset of tomato jelly and preserves, Jane Nickerson wrote up this recipe, which could have been dated a century earlier. You begin by peeling tomatoes and simmering them whole in a syrup scented with lemon, cloves, cinnamon, and slivers of fresh ginger. The tomatoes tint the syrup the color of embers and, if cooked correctly (that is, gently), never become part of it. Instead you simmer until the tomatoes’ flesh brightens and becomes translucent at the edges. Then you pack them into jars and cover them with the syrup. They are sublime looking and tasting: tender like a plum, with a concentrated, persistent fragrance like jasmine.
Not every fruit can be made into a preserve. You need a fruit whose structure is strong enough to withstand the long simmering. Tomatoes are perfect because they have a firm flesh that likes to soak up syrup and spices, and juice that readily thickens.
The best tomatoes for this recipe are firm plum tomatoes—Nickerson even called for slightly underripe fruit—but you can use almost any type. Just avoid mushy, soggy heirlooms, which would be pointless here (and generally).
As with some of the other preserve recipes in this book, the quantities are dependent on the number of tomatoes you want to preserve. Seven pounds will yield approximately 8 pints of preserves. But you can use any amount you like—it’s all about proportions.
———
Small slightly underripe plum tomatoes
For Each Pound of Cored and Peeled Tomatoes
¾ pound sugar (1½ cups)
3 whole cloves
1 cinnamon stick
¼ lemon, thinly sliced, seeds discarded
One ¼-inch slice peeled fresh ginger
1. Core the tomatoes, then skin them by cutting a shallow X in their rounded ends and dipping them in boiling water for 30 seconds. Peel. If the tomatoes are large, slice them in half across the middle and remove their seeds. Weigh the tomatoes, then measure the sugar and spices.
2. Leave tomatoes that are smaller than an egg whole; if they’re larger, thickly slice them. (If using round tomatoes, cut the halves into thick wedges.) Arrange the tomatoes and sugar in layers in a deep heavy pot (enameled cast-iron works best). Cover and let stand overnight—no need to refrigerate.
3. The next day, tie the spices in a square of cheesecloth. Add the spice bag to the tomatoes, along with the sliced lemon and ginger and bring to a simmer over medium heat. Cook, stirring occasionally, until the tomatoes have become slightly translucent and the syrup is thick and beginning to gel—it’s ready when a spoonful dropped onto a plate sets when cool. Don’t boil the syrup, or the tomatoes will fall apart. If the tomatoes become translucent before the syrup thickens, remove them from the pan with a slotted spoon and reduce the syrup over medium-high heat until thickened, then return the tomatoes to the syrup and bring to a boil. Remove from the heat, remove the spice bag, and skim off the foam.
4. Have ready 1 scalded half-pint jar with a screw band and new lid for every cup of preserve. (To scald, see Cooking Notes, here.) Simmer the lids in hot water to soften the rubberized flange. Using a slotted spoon, fill the jars three-quarters full with tomatoes and lemons (or save the lemons to eat separately), then cover the tomatoes with syrup leaving ¼-inch headspace. Remove any air bubbles trapped in the jars by running a sterilized butter knife between the sides of the jars and the preserves. Wipe the rims. Put the lids on and screw on the bands fingertip tight.
5. Place the jars on a rack in a big pot and cover with 2 to 3 inches of water. Cover the pot and bring to a boil over high heat, then lower the heat to medium and boil gently for 20 minutes. Remove the lid and then, after about 5 minutes, remove the jars. Allow the jars to cool, untouched, for 4 to 6 hours.
6. Check the seals, and store in a cool, dark place for up to a year. Refrigerate after opening.
1 POUND TOMATOES MAKES 1 CUP
COOKING NOTES
This is best made with at least 3 pounds of tomatoes. Using level pounds makes the math easier. Buy the smallest plum tomatoes you can find so you can leave them whole.
The tomatoes can easily burn, as I learned. Once most of the liquid cooks off, stay close to the stove, and stir gently now and then to prevent the tomatoes from sticking and caramelizing.
If you don’t have cheesecloth, a tea ball works well for holding the spices.
If you cut the tomatoes into wedges, they may fall apart during cooking. No worries, your preserve syrup may not be clear, but it will taste just as good.
SERVING SUGGESTIONS
Spoon this onto toasted country bread, spread with European butter or fresh ricotta. Finish with a pinch of fleur de sel. Or spread on a corn-bread biscuit with a thin slice of country ham.
AUGUST 1, 1948: “COUNTRY PRESERVES,” BY JANE NICKERSON. RECIPES BY RUTH P. CASA-EMELLOS, THE HEAD OF THE NEW YORK TIMES TEST KITCHEN.
—1948
FOAMY SAUCE
What this recipe produces is at first neither foamy nor sauce-like. But foamy sauce is what the mixture becomes when you spoon it on top of a warm pudding and the tight bond of meringue, whipped cream, and brandy slowly dissolves into a creamy, foamy river of sauce.
———
1 large egg, separated
½ cup confectioners’ sugar
¾ cup heavy cream
½ teaspoon vanilla extract, or brandy, sherry, or rum to taste
Beat the egg white in a medium bowl until it’s stiff. Gradually add the sugar and beat until the mixture forms stiff peaks. Beat the egg yolk and fold it into the meringue. Whip the cream to soft peaks, then fold into the meringue. Add the vanilla.
MAKES ABOUT 2 CUPS
SERVING SUGGESTIONS
Spoon this over Aztec Hot Chocolate Pudding (here) or Indian Pudding (here).
DECEMBER 12, 1948: “CHRISTMAS SAUCES,” BY JANE NICKERSON. RECIPE ADAPTED FROM RUTH P. CASA-EMELLOS, THE HEAD OF THE NEW YORK TIMES TEST KITCHEN.
—1948
Hard sauce is really just sweetened and spiced butter. Pass it at the table with a warm pudding or cake (such as the ,Indian Pudding here or Mary Ann’s Fruitcake—warmed—on here) so when guests shave off a slice of sauce, they can watch it collapse over the dessert.
———
12 tablespoons (1½ sticks) unsalted butter, softened
1 cup confectioners’ sugar
½ teaspoon ground cinnamon
½ teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg
1 teaspoon bourbon, rum, or vanilla extract
Cream the butter with an electric mixer in a medium bowl. Gradually beat in the sugar, cinnamon, and nutmeg and continue whipping until very light. Add the bourbon. Chill until firm.
MAKES ABOUT 1 CUP
PERIOD DETAIL
In a story from 1880, when a female writer took a tour of Delmonico’s kitchen, she wrote that she was “amazed at a man who patiently turns the handle of something which looks like a churn. ‘What might that be?’ he is asked. ‘Hard sauce,’ is the reply. ‘Fifty pounds of the best fresh butter, about the same of sugar, and a pound of nutmeg, with four quarts of lemon-juice; it takes three hours hard working; the boss do say he is going to run her by machinery, and I wish he would,’ and the hard-sauce compounder wipes his forehead.”
DECEMBER 11, 1966: “SEASON FOR SWEETS,” BY CRAIG CLAIBORNE.
—1966
FLORENCE LA GANKE’S THREE-DAY MARMALADE
Florence La Ganke, a food editor for the Cleveland Plain Dealer, published this marmalade recipe in 1929 in Patty Pans, a cookbook for children. The recipe resurfaced half a century later, when it was printed in a cookbook intended for people with small kitchens, called Claustrophobic Cooking. Marmalade can be prepared surprisingly easily in a tiny space if you use La Ganke’s method, which involves the use of a knife, a single pot, a wooden spoon, and a jar.
———
1 grapefruit
1 orange
1 lemon
Sugar
1. On the first day, slice the fruit as thin as possible; discard the ends and remove the seeds. Barely cover with cold water in a china or enamel bowl. Leave overnight at room temperature, covered.
2. On the second day, put the mixture in a medium heavy enameled cast-iron or other nonreactive saucepan, bring to a boil, and boil for 30 minutes. Cover and leave at room temperature overnight.
3. On the third day, measure the fruit mixture and return to the pan. Add an equal amount of sugar (decrease the amount by half a cup overall if you prefer a tart marmalade). Cook over low heat, stirring frequently to prevent burning. After 45 minutes, test on a cold saucer for thickness. If it is still runny, cook a little longer. The marmalade will take on a dark golden color as it cooks longer.
4. Have ready 5 sterilized half-pint jars with screw bands and new lids (see Cooking Notes, here). Simmer the lids in hot water to soften the rubberized flange. Spoon the marmalade into the jars, leaving ¼-inch headspace. Remove any air bubbles trapped in the jars by running a sterilized butter knife between the side of the jars and the marmalade. Wipe the rims. Put the lids on and screw on the bands fingertip tight.
5. Place the jars on a rack in a big pot and cover with 2 to 3 inches of water. Cover the pot and bring to a boil over high heat, then lower the heat to medium and boil gently for 10 minutes. Remove the lid and then, after about 5 minutes, remove the jars. Allow the jars to cool, untouched, for 4 to 6 hours.
6. Check the seals, and store in a cool, dark place for up to a year. Refrigerate after opening.
MAKES 5 HALF-PINTS
I had 4 cups of fruit mixture and used 3½ cups sugar, which made a pleasantly tart marmalade. The original recipe yielded 1 pint. This may be because citrus fruits were smaller then. My batch made 2½ pints.
JANUARY 31, 1974: “A WOMAN WHO LEARNED TO COOK HER WAY OUT OF TIGHT SPOTS,” BY CRAIG CLAIBORNE. RECIPE ADAPTED FROM FLORENCE LA GANKE.
—1974
CREAMY SALAD DRESSING
Explaining the difference between what the French call dressing—a standard vinaigrette—and French dressing, Craig Claiborne and Pierre Franey wrote, “What Americans call ‘French dressing’ is a creamy concoction which coats the greens in a way that the basic French dressing does not. It is made of oil, vinegar, a trifling amount of egg yolk, plus a touch of heavy cream to thin it. It is, in fact, like a mayonnaise. The heavy cream tends to give a smoothness to the dressing, and it also prevents the dressing from ‘breaking down’ or separating once it is made.”
———
1 large egg yolk
2 teaspoons Dijon or Düsseldorf mustard
Tabasco sauce
½ teaspoon finely chopped garlic
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
1 teaspoon vinegar
½ cup peanut, vegetable, or corn oil
2 teaspoons fresh lemon juice
1 teaspoon heavy cream
Beat the egg yolk, and add 1 teaspoon of it to a bowl (discard the rest). Whisk in the mustard, a dash or two of Tabasco, and the garlic. Season with salt and pepper. Add the vinegar and whisk vigorously to blend. While whisking, gradually add the oil, beating until thickened and well blended. Add the lemon juice. Beat in the heavy cream. At this point you should taste the salad dressing. Add more of the following to taste: salt, pepper, mustard, or lemon juice.
MAKES ABOUT ¾ CUP
APRIL 30, 1978: “FOOD: COATING THE GREENS,” BY CRAIG CLAIBORNE WITH PIERRE FRANEY.
—1978
SIMPLE COOKED TOMATO SAUCE
———
6 ripe tomatoes
4 tablespoons unsalted butter
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
1. Cut an X in the bottom of each tomato. Put enough water to cover the tomatoes in a pot and bring to a boil. Turn off the heat, drop the tomatoes in, and let stand for 1 minute. Drain the tomatoes, rinse under cold water, and peel off the skins.
2. Coarsely chop the tomatoes and put them, juice and all, into a saucepan. Bring to a boil and cook down, stirring often, until reduced by a third or half. If you like a smoother sauce, pass the tomatoes and juice through a food mill.
3. Turn off the heat, stir in the butter until all is well blended, and season with salt and pepper. The sauce keeps in the fridge for up to a week; it can also be frozen for up to 3 months.
MAKES ABOUT 2 CUPS; SERVES 2 TO 4
AUGUST 21, 1983: “THE SEASON OF VEGETABLE EXTRAVAGANCE: EXPLOITING THE RICH DIVERSITY OF SHAPES,” BY ROBERT FARRAR CAPON.
—1983
BRIE BUTTER WITH FRESH BREAD
If all goes well, you will experience bliss. If your Brie is at all bitter (make sure you remove every last bit of the rind), you will experience slightly bitter Brie butter.
———
8 tablespoons (1 stick) unsalted butter, softened
¼ cup dry white wine
Sea salt
1 loaf bread
1. Remove the rind from the cheese and bring to room temperature.
2. Blend the Brie with the butter and wine in a food processor until very smooth. Season to taste with salt. Spoon the cheese into a crock and chill to firm up.
3. Serve with sliced bread.
MAKES 1½ CUPS
VARIATION
Bryan Miller, a Times food writer and former restaurant critic, included this alternative: “This compound butter can be made with any combination of cheese and liquid—another possibility is Cheddar and beer, a kind of Welsh rarebit butter. It will last a long time and freezes well.”
OCTOBER 23, 1983: “TAILGATE FEASTS,” BY BRYAN MILLER.
—1983
CRANBERRY CHUTNEY
Cardamom, honey, and apricots give this chutney a sweet, exotic flavor without overriding the tartness of the cranberries.
———
1 cup orange juice
One 12-ounce bag (3 cups) fresh cranberries
1 juice orange, halved, seeded, and finely chopped (skin and all)
1 tart apple, cored and chopped
12 dried apricots, chopped
Approximately 1¼ cups honey
½ teaspoon ground cardamom
1. Place the orange juice, cranberries, and chopped orange in a saucepan, bring to a boil, and cook over medium heat until the berries begin to pop.
2. Add the apple, apricots, 1¼ cups honey, and the cardamom and cook for 10 to 20 minutes, until reduced a bit and more of a uniform sauce, as opposed to fruit and liquid. Adjust the sweetness if desired.
MAKES ABOUT 6 CUPS; SERVES 8 TO 10
NOVEMBER 25, 1987: “THE NO-PANIC, COOK-IN-A-DAY THANKSGIVING MEAL PLAN,” BY FLORENCE FABRICANT.
—1987
SCHRAFFT’S HOT FUDGE
Schrafft’s, a candy company that opened in 1861 and had a restaurant in New York City, finally shared its recipe for hot fudge an arbitrary 127 years later. As it turns out, it’s actually two recipes in one. I first followed the original instruction, which said to cook the fudge sauce to 220 degrees. But if you do this, you no longer have sauce, you have caramelized fudge candy. I poured the hot mixture onto a baking sheet, and once it cooled and firmed up, I snipped it into pieces and ate it as candy. (I recommend trying this.) Then I remade the recipe, this time cooking the mixture to a tamer 150 degrees, which produces a glossy, limpid sauce.
———
2 tablespoons unsweetened cocoa powder
¼ cup sugar
¾ cup heavy cream
½ cup light corn syrup
1 ounce semisweet chocolate, chopped
1 tablespoon salted butter
A few drops of malt or cider vinegar
½ teaspoon vanilla extract
1. Mix the cocoa, sugar, and ¼ cup heavy cream in a heavy saucepan until smooth. Stir in the remaining ½ cup cream, the corn syrup, chocolate, butter, and vinegar and bring to a boil, stirring. Boil over medium heat for 7 to 8 minutes, until smooth and glossy, or until the mixture reaches 150 degrees on a candy thermometer.
2. Remove from the heat, stir in the vanilla, and allow to stand for about 3 minutes before serving.
MAKES 1 SCANT CUP
Strawberry Ice Cream (here), Tea Ice Cream (here), Sour Cream Ice Cream (here)
JUNE 15, 1988: “SCHRAFFT’S HOT FUDGE, TO MAKE AT HOME.” RECIPE ADAPTED FROM SCHRAFFT’S RESTAURANT IN NEW YORK CITY.
—1988
JOHN BERWALD’S DRY RUB
There is nothing exotic or esoteric about this recipe, and that’s why it’s great. It’s a straight-shooting rub that’s spicy but not unbearably so and would make any grilling fanatic happy. It comes from John Berwald, a former art gallery owner who started Armadillo Willy’s Real Texas BBQ, a chain on the West Coast.
I spread about ½ cup of the rub on a rack of baby back ribs, laid the ribs on a baking sheet lined with foil, and baked them for 3 hours at 225 degrees. They were superb, and they didn’t lack the smoke or crispness you get from the grill (though that wouldn’t have hurt).
———
½ cup packed brown sugar
½ cup salt
½ cup freshly ground black pepper
½ cup paprika
2 tablespoons garlic powder
2 tablespoons onion powder
1 tablespoon cayenne pepper
Combine all the ingredients and stir well. Rub the mixture on beef, poultry, and pork before barbecuing. It keeps indefinitely, tightly sealed.
MAKES ABOUT 2½ CUPS (ENOUGH FOR ABOUT 6 BRISKETS)
JULY 3, 1988: “SAVORING BARBECUE,” BY MARIAN BURROS. RECIPE ADAPTED FROM JOHN BERWALD.
—1988
RHUBARB-GINGER COMPOTE
You might have read the title of this recipe and thought, oh, I’ve made that, but chances are you haven’t. First of all, this is not a dessert sauce. Second, it’s exceptionally good, much better, in my view, than most rhubarb and ginger recipes. The compote (the English language’s horrible word, not mine) seems at once sweet and savory. You almost want to put it on ice cream, but then you find yourself thinking of fatty pork belly, and then toast, and then cheese, and finally salmon. Most savory rhubarb sauces aren’t quite good enough to make that critical leap from brief fascination to enduring standby. This one does.
———
2 teaspoons olive oil
2 shallots, minced
2 cloves garlic, minced
2 tablespoons grated fresh ginger
2 cups water
1 cup sugar
4 cups ¼-inch-thick slices trimmed rhubarb
2 tablespoons plus 2 teaspoons rice wine vinegar
⅛ teaspoon salt
Freshly ground black pepper
1. Heat the olive oil in a medium saucepan over medium heat. Add the shallots and garlic and cook until softened, about 2 minutes. Add the ginger and cook, stirring, for 45 seconds. Add the water and sugar and bring to a boil, then reduce the heat so that the liquid barely simmers. Add the rhubarb and cook, without simmering, until the rhubarb is tender but still whole, 8 to 10 minutes.
2. Using a slotted spoon, remove the rhubarb to a bowl. Bring the liquid to a boil over medium heat. Cook, adding the juices that accumulate from the rhubarb (you will need to do this several times), until reduced to 1 cup, 30 to 40 minutes. It’s done when it starts to bubble up the sides of the pan. Set aside to cool.
3. Stir the vinegar, salt, and pepper to taste into the reduced liquid. Stir in the rhubarb. Serve, or store in the refrigerator.
MAKES 2½ CUPS
MAY 15, 1994: “RHUBARB BITES,” BY MOLLY O’NEILL.
—1994
If you’ve never pickled before, this is a great warm-up recipe because it doesn’t involve boiling vinegar and hot-packing and all that. You just brine the cucumbers with a few aromatics and wait until they’re pickled to your liking. Salted pickles won’t store as long as those cured with vinegar, but these are so addictive they won’t last long anyway.
———
⅓ cup kosher salt
1 cup boiling water
2 pounds small Kirby cucumbers, washed and cut into halves or quarters
5 cloves garlic or more, smashed
1 large bunch dill, with flowers, or 2 tablespoons dried dill plus 1 teaspoon dill seeds, or 1 tablespoon coriander seeds
1. Combine the salt and boiling water in a large bowl, stir to dissolve the salt. Add a handful of ice cubes to cool down the mixture, then add all the remaining ingredients. Add cold water to cover. Use a plate slightly smaller than the diameter of the bowl and a small weight to hold the cucumbers under the water. Set aside at room temperature.
2. Begin sampling the cucumbers after 2 hours if they are quartered, 4 hours if they are halved. In either case, it will probably take from 12 to 24 hours, or even 48 hours, for them to taste “pickley” enough to suit your taste. When they are, refrigerate them, still in the brine. The pickles will continue to ferment as they sit, more quickly at room temperature, more slowly in the refrigerator.
MAKES ABOUT 32 PICKLE QUARTERS (OR 16 HALVES)
SEPTEMBER 13, 1995: “PICKLES: HOLDING THE COOKING, CANNING, VINEGAR, AND SUGAR,” BY MARK BITTMAN.
—1995
HOLIDAY CRANBERRY CHUTNEY
Although we may like traditional English-style chutneys, the message they convey isn’t optimistic. There is a suggestion that whatever you’re eating the chutney with isn’t good enough on its own, that it needs this aggressively spiced condiment to mask its dullness. So why not rethink chutney, and employ it as it’s used in Indian cooking, to complement an already full-flavored main dish? If your Thanksgiving turkey is boring, no chutney—not even this delicious one—can save it!
The chutney, which comes from the novelist Lee Smith, uses a smart technique: the fresh cranberries are added in three stages, so some berries are completely broken down while others are plump and full with juice. And the other fruits—raisins, apricots, lemons, oranges, and apple—act as a sweet counterbalance to the tart berries.
———
½ cup cider vinegar
2¼ cups packed light brown sugar
¾ teaspoon curry powder
½ teaspoon ground ginger
¼ teaspoon ground cloves
¼ teaspoon ground allspice
½ teaspoon ground cinnamon
1½ cups water
2 lemons, zest finely grated, white pith discarded, and fruit cut into sections
2 navel oranges, zest finely grated, white pith discarded, and fruit cut into sections
1 tart apple, peeled, cored, and coarsely chopped
Two 12-ounce bags (6 cups) fresh cranberries
½ cup golden raisins
½ cup dried apricots
½ cup chopped pecans
1. Combine the vinegar, sugar, curry, ginger, cloves, allspice, cinnamon, and water in a large saucepan and bring to a boil, stirring until the sugar is dissolved, about 3 minutes. Add the lemon zest and lemon sections, orange zest and orange sections, and apple, reduce the heat, and simmer for 10 minutes.
2. Add 3 cups cranberries, the raisins, and apricots and simmer, stirring occasionally, until thickened, about 35 minutes.
3. Add another 2 cups cranberries and simmer for 10 more minutes.
4. Add the remaining cup of cranberries and the pecans and simmer the mixture for 15 minutes longer. Pour the chutney into a bowl and let cool. Refrigerate overnight (or for up to 2 weeks) before using.
MAKES 6 CUPS
SERVING SUGGESTIONS
Serve this with Roasted Brine-Cured Turkey (here) or Slow-Roasted Duck (here).
READERS
“Besides using it instead of ‘regular’ cranberry sauce, I have used leftovers as a filling for crumb bar cookies.”
Sherine Levine, Brooklyn, NY, letter
DECEMBER 22, 1996: “BELLE LETTERS,” BY MOLLY O’NEILL. RECIPE ADAPTED FROM LEE SMITH, AUTHOR OF THE CHRISTMAS LETTERS.
—1996
SWEET-AND-PULPY TOMATO KETCHUP
Andrew Smith, author of Pure Ketchup, tells us that the word “ketchup” means any sauce made from a single ingredient that is spiced. It derives from the Chinese ke-tsiap, fermented fish sauce, a variation of which the British discovered in Indonesia in the seventeenth century. They began making the sauce with their own ingredients—like anchovies, mushrooms, and spices—eventually expanding the ingredients and definition of the sauce.
Commercial tomato ketchup arose from the thrift of tomato canneries. Irregular or damaged tomatoes unfit for canning were used to make a ketchup so cheap and convenient that by the end of World War II home production had almost died out.
This ketchup is a convincing antidote to the commercial stuff—it has texture, a nod to sweetness, and a bright infusion of spices that are steeped in the ketchup rather than cooked until they have nothing left to say.
———
10 medium ripe tomatoes, peeled (see Cooking Note, here), cored, and quartered
2 medium onions, minced
2 red chiles, seeded and minced
1½ teaspoons kosher salt
½ cup sugar
½ cup cider vinegar (5% acidity)
1 teaspoon paprika
1 teaspoon prepared horseradish
½ teaspoon black peppercorns
½ teaspoon allspice berries
½ teaspoon celery seeds
½ teaspoon ground cinnamon
½ teaspoon ground mace
½ teaspoon chopped fresh ginger
½ teaspoon chopped garlic
½ teaspoon whole cloves
1. Place the tomatoes in a large pot and simmer over low heat, stirring frequently, until they’re soft. Press the tomatoes through a coarse sieve into a bowl; discard the seeds.
2. Combine the tomatoes, onions, and chiles in a large heavy pot, bring to a boil over high heat, and reduce until slightly thickened, about 10 minutes.
3. Reduce the heat to medium-low, add the salt, sugar, vinegar, paprika, and horseradish, and stir until the sugar is dissolved. Simmer, stirring occasionally to prevent scorching, until the ketchup is slightly looser than bottled ketchup, about 2½ hours.
4. Combine the peppercorns, allspice, celery seeds, cinnamon, mace, ginger, garlic, and cloves in a square of cheesecloth and tie it closed with kitchen string. Add to the ketchup and continue simmering, stirring to prevent scorching until thickened and no longer drippy, about 25 minutes. Remove the spice bag and discard.
5. Ladle into jars and let cool, then seal, and keep refrigerated. The ketchup will keep for up to a month.
MAKES 1½ CUPS
COOKING NOTE
The ketchup can be used immediately, but it improves with 2 to 3 weeks’ rest, it can also be frozen for up to 6 months.
OCTOBER 22, 1997: “ADVENTUROUS CHEFS POUR THE GLORY BACK INTO THE KETCHUP BOTTLE,” BY AMANDA HESSER. RECIPE ADAPTED FROM PURE KETCHUP, BY ANDREW SMITH.
—1997
PRESERVED LEMONS WITH CARDAMOM AND BAY LEAVES
If you’re planning to make a tagine, you may want to start 14 days ahead of time—seriously—by preparing these preserved lemons. Store-bought preserved lemons, if you can find them at all, are rarely anything you actually want to eat. The traditional recipe for preserved lemons is monastic: lemons, salt, and nothing else. Times Magazine food columnist Molly O’Neill’s is more enthusiastic, with bay leaves and cardamom added for depth. You can dice them up to go with roasted chicken or grilled lamb or use them in O’Neill’s Asparagus and Bulgur with Preserved-Lemon Dressing here or her Fettuccine with Preserved Lemon and Roasted Garlic here.
———
6 medium lemons, scrubbed
½ cup kosher salt
1 tablespoon cardamom pods
3 bay leaves
1 cup fresh lemon juice (from about 4 lemons), more if needed
1. Cut the lemons lengthwise into quarters, leaving them attached at one end. Rub the flesh with a little of the salt. Place 1 tablespoon salt in the bottom of a sterilized wide-mouth quart jar or 2 sterilized wide-mouthed pint jars (see Cooking Notes, here). Place the lemons in the jar alternately with the remaining salt, cardamom pods, and bay leaves, pressing on the lemons to fit them snugly into the jar(s). Pour in enough lemon juice to cover the lemons. Put on the lid(s) and screw on the band(s).
2. Refrigerate, shaking the jar(s) daily, for 2 to 3 weeks before using. Covered with liquid and tightly sealed, preserved lemons will keep for several months in the refrigerator.
MAKES 6 PRESERVED LEMONS
COOKING NOTES
Because lemons vary in size, you may need more than 1 jar (I did), and if you do, you’ll need more juice to fill up the jar—I needed the juice of 12 more lemons.
Over time, you may see some white residue on the lemons. It’s OK: it’s just a precipitate of salts, oil, and whatever is drawn from the pith by the salt.
You can leave out the cardamom and bay leaves if you want a classic preserved lemon.
MARCH 7, 1999: “FOOD: CURIOUS YELLOW,” BY MOLLY O’NEILL.
—1999
ROMESCO SAUCE
Romesco, the pesto of Spain, is a synthesis of the best local ingredients: tomatoes, chiles, garlic, olives, nuts, and wine vinegar. Each is first elevated: the tomatoes and garlic are roasted. The chiles are soaked. The olives are made into oil. The nuts are toasted. Then they are all blended together into a puree, which can be coarse or silky, depending how you like it.
I’ve had the sauce in many versions, sometimes loose and sweet, sometimes thickened with bread. Once it was served alongside mayonnaise with fat, firm asparagus. Another time it was spooned over braised cod. And in several instances, it was dolloped onto a salad of frisée with black olives, white beans, and slivers of salt cod.
In and around Barcelona, they eat romesco with grilled calcots, a wintered-over onion. You can grill spring onions instead.
———
5 baseball-sized ripe tomatoes, cored and halved
8 large cloves garlic, unpeeled
Olive oil
Sea salt
⅓ cup blanched whole almonds
10 blanched whole hazelnuts
1 dried ancho chile pepper, soaked in very hot tap water for 20 minutes
2 jarred piquillo peppers
Aged sherry vinegar
Dry red wine, preferably from Priorat or Rioja
1. Heat the oven to 400 degrees. Place the tomatoes, cut side up, and garlic cloves in a medium roasting pan. Sprinkle with olive oil and season with salt. Roast for 15 minutes.
2. Reduce the oven heat to 350 degrees and roast the tomatoes for another 60 to 75 minutes until shriveled and concentrated. The garlic should be soft after 20 minutes; remove it and let cool.
3. Meanwhile, coat a small sauté pan with ⅛ inch of olive oil and place over medium heat. When the oil shimmers, add the almonds and hazelnuts and cook until toasted a golden brown, about 2 minutes. Remove and cool on paper towels.
4. Remove the seeds from the ancho chile and discard. Scrape the thin layer of flesh from the skin. Place this pulp, along with the tomatoes, nuts, and piquillo peppers in a food processor. Squeeze the garlic from its skin and add it. Pulse a few times to blend and then, leaving the processor on, pour olive oil through the feed tube in a thin stream. The sauce should become thick and creamy, like a mayonnaise; about 1 cup oil should be enough. To sharpen it, season with salt and add a tablespoon or two of vinegar and red wine.
MAKES ABOUT 2 CUPS
COOKING NOTE
Jarred fire-roasted piquillo peppers are available at www.tienda.com and many gourmet markets.
SERVING SUGGESTIONS
Romesco is delicious with any roasted or grilled fish and vegetables. Or serve with grilled spring onions: Brush with olive oil, season with salt, and grill until charred and soft, or roast in a 350-degree oven; peel to the tender part.
JULY 14, 2002: “FOOD DIARY: UNDER THE SPANISH SUN,” BY AMANDA HESSER. RECIPE ADAPTED FROM BILL DEVIN, AN EXPAT WHO LIVED IN SPAIN.
—2002
KATTA SAMBOL
A Sri Lankan condiment built for cast-iron stomachs.
———
2 tablespoons Maldives fish flakes or small dried shrimp, soaked in warm water for 10 minutes and drained
10 small red chiles, or to taste, halved
1 shallot, thinly sliced
Sea salt
With a mortar and pestle, pound together the fish, chiles, shallot, and a pinch of salt. Taste and adjust the chiles and salt as needed; the mixture should be hot, fishy, and slightly salty. Serve as a condiment.
MAKES ABOUT ⅓ CUP
COOKING NOTE
Fish flakes and dried shrimp are sold in Asian markets.
SERVING SUGGESTIONS
Hoppers (Coconut Crepes; here), Tuna Curry (here)
OCTOBER 13, 2004: “JUST OFF INDIA, KISSED BY EUROPE,” BY AMANDA HESSER.
—2004
GRAPEFRUIT AND MEYER LEMON MARMALADE
Preserves would seem a difficult food to make distinctive, yet June Taylor, a preserves expert in Berkeley, California, manages to make hers unforgettable. They are unlike any commercial preserves, not simply because she uses esoteric fruits like bergamots, Kadota figs, and Santa Rosa plums—virtually all of them organic—but also because she cooks them in a way that underlines their individual essence. Her silver lime and ginger marmalade has a sting to it; her grapefruit and Meyer lemon marmalade is bright, concentrated, and vigorously bitter.
Taylor prepares her jams in small batches in large pots so they cook rapidly and reach the gel point before they taste cooked. She uses only the fruit’s natural pectin and incorporates sugar not as a crutch but a tool to bring out the nuances in the fruit’s flavor. Christine Ferber, a French preserves maker, wrote in her book Mes Confitures that jams should be 65 percent sugar. Taylor’s jams are about 20 percent; her marmalades are about 50 to 60 percent.
For this marmalade, she includes grapefruit rind and both the flesh and squares of Meyer lemon rind, so when you eat the marmalade, she said, “you get a burst of Meyer lemon.” Taylor stirs in water, lemon juice, and a jelly bag filled with the grapefruit and lemon membranes (for extracting pectin) and simmers the mixture.
Marmalade is the most difficult of the preserves, Taylor said, because you must balance so many things at once: acid, sugar, pectin, and water. In the final stage, you want the marmalade to cook quickly—about 30 minutes is ideal—so the water evaporates and the flavor crystallizes in a fresh state.
When the marmalade is ready, Taylor works at a table covered with jars, fresh from the oven. “Hot jar, hot product, work fast, don’t take phone calls,” Taylor said.
———
5 pounds grapefruit (about 5 grapefruits), rinsed
1 pound Meyer lemons or small regular lemons (about 5 lemons), rinsed
2½ cups water
½ cup fresh lemon juice
2½ pounds (5 cups) sugar
1. Remove the grapefruit zest with a vegetable peeler. Cut the zest into ⅛-inch-wide slivers; stop when you have ¾ cup, and discard the rest. Slice off the ends of the grapefruit and the remaining grapefruit pith. Remove the grapefruit segments by using a sharp paring knife to slice between the membranes—reserve the membranes. Stop when you have 5 cups of segments.
2. Cut the ends off the Meyer lemons, deep enough so you can see the flesh. Cut off the remaining peel and reserve it. Remove the segments of lemon, reserving the membranes. Cut the lemon peel into ½-inch squares. Cut the segments crosswise into ¼-inch pieces. Put the membranes from the grapefruit and Meyer lemons in a jelly bag and tie with kitchen twine.
3. Combine the grapefruit segments, grapefruit zest, lemon segments, lemon peel, and jelly bag in a wide deep enameled cast-iron or other nonreactive pot. Add the water and the lemon juice, bring to a simmer, and simmer until the grapefruit peel is tender, 25 to 30 minutes. Let cool.
4. Working over a bowl in your sink, squeeze the liquid from the jelly bag: keep squeezing and wringing it out until you extract ⅓ to ½ cup of pectin—the creamy white substance. Add the pectin and sugar to the pot. Attach a candy thermometer to the pot, place over high heat, and boil, stirring now and then and skimming off the foam, until the marmalade reaches 220 degrees or passes the gel test. It’s ready when a spoonful dropped onto a plate sets up when cool.
5. Have ready 6 sterilized half-pint jars with screw bands and new lids (see Cooking Notes, here). Simmer the lids in hot water to soften the rubberized flange. Spoon the marmalade into the jars, leaving ¼-inch headspace. Remove any air bubbles trapped in the jars by running a sterilized butter knife between the sides of the jars and the marmalade. Wipe the rims. Put the lids on and screw on the bands fingertip tight.
6. Place the jars on a rack in a big pot and cover with 2 to 3 inches of water. Cover the pot and bring to a boil over high heat, then lower the heat to medium and boil gently for 10 minutes. Remove the lid and then, after about 5 minutes, remove the jars. Allow the jars to cool, untouched, for 4 to 6 hours.
7. Check the seals, and store in a cool, dark place for up to a year. Refrigerate after opening.
MAKES 6 HALF-PINTS
FEBRUARY 13, 2005: “THE WAY WE EAT: JELLY’S LAST JAM,” BY AMANDA HESSER. RECIPE ADAPTED FROM JUNE TAYLOR, THE OWNER OF JUNE TAYLOR JAMS IN BERKELEY, CALIFORNIA.
—2005
RANCH DRESSING
———
1 cup mayonnaise, preferably homemade (here)
½ cup buttermilk
¼ cup buttermilk powder
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
¼ cup chopped chives or flat-leaf parsley
Put the mayonnaise, buttermilk, and buttermilk powder in a medium jar with a tight-fitting lid. Sprinkle with a little salt and lots of pepper. Add the chives if you like, put the lid on, and shake vigorously for 30 seconds or so. Taste and adjust the seasoning. Use immediately, or store in the refrigerator for a few days; it will keep longer without herbs.
MAKES 2 CUPS
COOKING NOTE
Buttermilk powder can be found in the baking aisle of many grocery stores. I didn’t believe Mark Bittman when he wrote this in his story, but it’s true.
OCTOBER 25, 2006: “THE MINIMALIST: THE WELL-DRESSED SALAD WEARS ONLY HOMEMADE,” BY MARK BITTMAN.
—2006
CLEMENTINE PEPPERCORN GLAZE
This may be used in place of the glaze for Monte’s Ham here.
———
1½ cups packed light brown sugar
2 clementines, stemmed if necessary, quartered, skin left on
2 fresh green serrano chiles or 1 jalapeño chile, stemmed, seeded, and coarsely chopped
2 tablespoons white wine vinegar
1 tablespoon plus 1 teaspoon crushed red peppercorns or peppercorn blend
1 tablespoon Dijon mustard
½ teaspoon ground cinnamon, preferably freshly ground
Combine all the ingredients in a food processor and pulse until the chiles are reduced to tiny green flecks. Transfer to a jar with a tight-fitting lid and store in the refrigerator until needed. Making the glaze a day in advance allows flavors to bloom and thickens the glaze, which makes it easier to apply.
MAKES 1¾ CUPS, ENOUGH FOR A WHOLE HAM
DECEMBER 20, 2006: “FANFARE FOR THE CITY HAM” BY MATT LEE AND TED LEE.
—2006
HOMEMADE BUTTER AND BUTTERMILK
As Daniel Patterson, a chef and contributor to the Times, summed it up: to make butter, all you do is “Beat cream until it curdles, expel liquid, and presto: butter.” And oh, is it extraordinary, especially with some flaky sea salt and a crust of bread. The buttermilk doesn’t have the tang or sloppy thickness of the commercial kind; homemade, it’s elegant and a little creamy.
———
6 cups organic heavy cream
Sea salt (optional)
1. Leave the cream out of the refrigerator for a little while first (it works best when it’s around 50 degrees). Fill a mixer bowl with the cream, insert the whisk attachment, and be sure to cover the bowl with plastic wrap, or it will look as if a milk truck exploded in your kitchen. Turn the mixer on medium-high, and then do that thing professional cooks live in fear of being yelled at for: overwhip the cream! As you peer through the spattered plastic, you will see the cream thickening and getting progressively more yellow. This will take several minutes—when it starts to look like a solid mass of golden pebbles, it’s almost done. After another minute or so, the mixer will start pelting the plastic with liquid. That’s your cue to turn it off. Quickly.
2. Two more easy steps will bring you to butter nirvana: Set a strainer over a bowl and empty the contents of the mixer bowl into the strainer. The white liquid that drains into the bowl below is real buttermilk, nothing like the cultured processed stuff that goes by the same name. Its sweet, delicate flavor is great in shakes, oatmeal, and soups or even in coffee or tea.
3. Let the butter drain for a few minutes. Then comes the fun part: kneading the butter. This will push out much of the buttermilk and consolidate the remaining liquid and fat. Taste as you go—you will notice the flavor getting less diluted, the texture more lush and velvety. After about 5 minutes, you should be done. If you want salted butter, you can mix in some sea salt. Transfer to an airtight container and refrigerate.
MAKES ABOUT 16 OUNCES (2 CUPS) EACH OF BUTTER AND BUTTERMILK
JULY 1, 2007: “THE WAY WE EAT: CURD MENTALITY,” BY DANIEL PATTERSON.
—2007
GREEN TOMATO AND LEMON MARMALADE
Green tomatoes are lemony, so this is like a double lemon marmalade with an underlying vegetal aroma, courtesy of the tomatoes.
———
1 lemon, thinly sliced and seeded
2¼ pounds green tomatoes (about 5 large tomatoes), cored and thinly sliced
3¼ cups sugar
¼ cup water
2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
Pinch of salt
1. Bring the lemon slices to a boil in a pot of water. Drain.
2. Combine the lemon slices and all the remaining ingredients in a medium heavy enameled cast-iron or other nonreactive pot and bring to a simmer, stirring to dissolve the sugar. Cook at a bare simmer until the tomatoes and lemon slices are translucent and the syrup thickens, 1 to 1½ hours. Cool completely. Store in a refrigerator for up to a month.
MAKES 1¾ CUPS
AUGUST 22, 2007: “A GOOD APPETITE: SO MANY TOMATOES TO STUFF IN A WEEK,” BY MELISSA CLARK.
—2007
LAST-OF-THE-SUMMER PESTO
A more intensely bonded, more modern oil-based pesto than the one here.
———
½ cup pine nuts
¾ cup extra virgin olive oil
4 ounces basil, stemmed (about 5 cups loosely packed leaves)
2 cloves garlic, coarsely chopped
½ teaspoon salt, or to taste
1. Heat a small skillet over medium heat. Add the pine nuts and toast them, shaking the pan and stirring, until golden brown all over, about 3 minutes. Pour the nuts onto a plate to cool.
2. Combine the nuts and all the remaining ingredients in a blender and puree until smooth, stopping occasionally to scrape down the sides with a spatula and work the basil toward the blade. Use immediately, or store in the refrigerator for up to a week; or freeze for up to 6 months.
MAKES ABOUT 1 CUP
OCTOBER 10, 2007: “A GOOD APPETITE: THE URBAN FARMER’S AUTUMN RITUAL,” BY MELISSA CLARK.
—2007
FRESH RICOTTA
By 2008, asking a home cook to make dinner every night was out of the question, but asking him to make his own crème fraîche or butter (see here)—anything elemental or artisanal—was somehow reasonable. Homemade ricotta, then, had a ready audience. As it turns out, ricotta is much more rewarding to make than crème fraîche, because it goes through a vast transformation from milk to curd. As Julia Moskin, a Times food writer explained, all you need to do is “apply heat and little bit of acid to milk—whether grass-fed, organic, or supermarket—and it separates with startling obedience into curds and whey. The ‘cheesemaker’ has only to stand there with a ladle, a colander and some cheesecloth.”
Pure and bouncy, the ricotta’s flavor comes in the finish, although you’ll want to include some salt, either sprinkled on top or added in abundance to whatever you’re pairing the ricotta with. I spread it on my morning toast with fig jam and a pinch of fleur de sel. Andrew Carmellini, one of the New York City chefs Moskin interviewed for her story, serves ricotta mixed with fresh thyme and dried oregano atop grilled country bread that has been brushed with olive oil and seasoned with salt—see here.
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2 quarts whole milk
2 cups buttermilk
1. Line a wide sieve or colander with cheesecloth, folded so that it is at least 4 layers thick, and set it over a bowl. Pour the milk and buttermilk into a heavy pot and attach a candy thermometer to the pot. Set the pot over high heat and cook, stirring frequently; scrape the bottom of the pot occasionally to prevent scorching. As the milk heats, curds will begin to rise and clump on the surface. Once the mixture is steaming, stop stirring. When the mixture reaches 170 degrees, the curds and whey will separate. (The whey will look like cloudy gray water underneath a mass of thick white curds.) Immediately turn off the heat, and gently ladle the curds into the sieve.
2. When all the curds are in the sieve and the dripping has slowed (about 5 minutes), gently gather the edges of the cloth and twist to bring the curds together; do not squeeze. Let drain for 15 minutes more. Discard the whey.
3. Untie the cloth and pack the ricotta into airtight containers. Refrigerate and use within 1 week.
MAKES ABOUT 2 CUPS
MAY 28, 2008: “SUDDENLY, RICOTTA’S A BIG CHEESE,” BY JULIA MOSKIN. RECIPE ADAPTED FROM MICHAEL CHIARELLO’S CASUAL COOKING, BY MICHAEL CHIARELLO.
—2008
