Home cooking is alive and well in Maine. Like most of my Islesboro island neighbors, and many others in Down East and inland Maine, I am a home cook with no professional culinary training. Being a food writer has required me to pay attention to some aspects of professional food practices, but in my heart of hearts, cooking is how I take care of family and friends, use what I grow in my island garden, and live responsibly on the earth. Like you, I have the daily chore of figuring out what to make for dinner. I never think of myself as a chef: to be a chef means you are the boss in the kitchen, with someone to do what you say, and I don’t know about you, but there are only cats in my kitchen, and they don’t take orders.
I hear a lot about how no one cooks any more. Some of my friends even tell me they don’t cook, but I notice they are feeding their families and they look reasonably healthy to me. When I ask how they do it, they say, “Well, I just roast a chicken and boil some potatoes and make a salad.” Why they think they aren’t cooking baffled me until I realized that they thought cooking was assembling twenty-seven ingredients and spending half a day in the kitchen, plus probably getting a fry pan to flare up suddenly like TV chefs do.
Lots more people cook in a modest, daily, simple fashion than the professionals give us credit for. If you picked up this book, I’ll bet you are a home cook, too.
Ironically, in daily home cooking, I don’t often use recipes. I open the fridge, pantry, or look in the garden to see what is ripe and ready, and throw it all together. For many people, cooking is slavishly following a recipe, but I can hardly discipline myself to stick to one. Still, here are lots of recipes. You will see I spend as much time explaining how to work around the recipes as how to follow them. Some in this book are barely recipes at all. Feel free to tinker with them, substitute, add, and subtract.
Don’t worry too much about details. For example, a recipe might call for one-half cup of a vegetable, but if I end up with a dab of something leftover or conversely come in a little shy, I round quantities up or down to the nearest whole vegetable. Veggies and most meat products don’t come with little marks showing the half-cup line, so I decided long ago not to sweat the details, and nothing terrible has ever happened because of it.
Cook to taste. If you don’t like a certain seasoning or minor ingredient, leave it out. If you really enjoy one, add more. Don’t eat onions? Unless onions are the whole point, leave them out. Really like garlic? Add more. If you have a sweet tooth, use the sugar quantity recommended; if you prefer it less sweet, cut it back.
If you don’t cook much, or even feel a little shy about it, but want to do more, get back in the kitchen, open this book, and let all the home cooks quoted here coach you along.
Please just let these recipes inspire you and help you make that daily what-to-have-for-dinner decision just a little more easily.
I believe in frugality, using leftovers, and not eating junk. Sure, you can make an exquisite dish if you use pricey ingredients imported from far away or wildly out of season. I’d rather use fruits and vegetables in season. I prefer to grate my own cheese over buying pre-grated bagfuls. I add my own water to orange juice concentrate rather than buy bottled orange juice that is made from concentrate. I seldom if ever recommend a particular brand, so you are free to buy just about any brand you prefer or can afford and you should get a satisfactory result.
I like having leftovers because they can save prep time and can serve as a starting place for menu planning. I throw away precious little, and even then my chickens get to eat it. Lots of recipes in this cookbook suggest ways to use leftovers.
If I can’t pronounce the ingredient named on the package, I don’t eat it. I prefer to use ingredients that have an identifiable source in nature—animal, vegetable, or mineral. I prefer using the least processed food possible and so always prefer butter over margarine and real whipped cream over that frozen whipped topping.
Otherwise, I try not to be too snooty about my grub.
As you read along, you’ll find boxes marked “History and Memories” of some dishes. Why do I include these? I’ve stopped more conversations dead by answering the “what-do-you-do” question by saying that I am a food historian and freelance writer. Obviously, this is a modern cookbook, and not a work of history. Part of my work is writing about modern food and living sustainably. And I have been researching and writing about American food history for over forty years, specializing in food of New England, where I grew up.
Most of the time in this book I keep the history down to a dull roar, but whenever I think you might be interested in the back story on a particular recipe or foodstuff, I’ve shared what I’ve learned. I hope you enjoy it. If you find what I say is interesting, check my biography for the other books I’ve written. I give talks in Maine and New England on food history topics and teach anyone who is interested how to cook in a fireplace or how to conduct food history research.
If you are watching your diet for calories, cholesterol, carbohydrates, sodium, and all that, you probably are one of the people who reads the nutrition label on the back of most food products in the grocery store, everything except things like heads of lettuce or apples.
Some cookbooks and magazine recipes will sum up nutrition information, made possible by a special software program, at the end of the articles. I had a note from Florence Turek, in Garland, who suggested that I provide nutrition information for the recipes I offer you here. I understand many people like to have that information, and I also understand that many of you, like me, hardly ever follow recipes as written, so with a mere tablespoon of butter we are likely to blow a recipe’s fat grams right out of the water or tip over the fiber percentage by a substitution of brown rice for white. The good news is that if you want to calculate nutrition facts you can do it by going on-line to one of the many recipe analysis sites, like recipecalc.com. If you cook professionally, there are many software programs you can buy, some quite inexpensive, through which you can run your recipes to obtain the nutrition facts.
Of course, you don’t have to live on an island to have a garden and kitchen like mine, and I’ll bet a fair number of Mainers live as I do, heating with wood, gardening all summer to produce food for the year, raising chickens and occasional livestock, even butchering their own meat. One of the great things about moving here twenty-two years ago from Connecticut, where I grew up, was discovering that lots of my peers made pickles, put up preserves, canned, and froze produce. I had been a bit of an oddity in Connecticut, where the only people I knew who did that were all forty years my senior.
My house dates to the very early 1870s and the kitchen has barely been changed since the 1940s, in some parts unchanged since the early 1900s. Most days I like that. My eighty-year-old Dual Atlantic combination wood and propane stove keeps my kitchen and adjacent spaces warm in winter while I make soup at the same time. In summer, I use gas. An electric oven in an adjacent space compensates for the inefficiencies of the gas stove whose oven I gave up on.
There is a generously sized pantry with my gram’s old canister set and glass jars full of flour, sugar, rice, beans, oatmeal, corn meal, nuts, and seeds. I have oils, vinegars, and various sauces on hand as well. There are two stores on our island, and I can usually purchase whatever I need in either place as long as I think of it before closing time, although I am a member of the Belfast co-op, where I do my shopping for bulk items like rice and nuts.
The house is blessed with a stone-walled and dirt-floored cellar perfect for storing winter vegetables. In addition, I have a pair of freezers. I do my food shopping in my garden in summer and in my cellar in winter.
The two-thousand-square foot kitchen garden is literally a stone’s throw from the kitchen door. It is fenced to exclude the too-numerous deer that, frankly, I’d prefer to eat than watch grazing. I grow all the usual suspects as far as beans, peas, onions, corn, potatoes, salad stuff, broccoli, cabbage, beets, carrots, summer and winter squashes, cucumbers, and spinach are concerned. I also have a hoop house where I can grow greens in winter and heat-loving tomatoes, eggplants, peppers, and cantaloupes in summer. Peach trees, high-bush blueberries, strawberries, and asparagus occupy a second garden space. I pick apples in my yard and in abandoned orchards on the island.
Like many rural places, the island has a small population of folks who work together to make the community a good place to live. We know each other by sight, if not by name. Most of my friends and neighbors have contributed recipes. They know if they see me barreling down on them at a potluck supper or refreshment table, I am very likely to solicit the recipe for something I just ate. I’ve learned a lot about cooking from them.
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SHELF ONE: Couscous, Jacob’s cattle beans, white and brown rice, and popcorn for watching movies, all are part of my staples. SHELF TWO: Cornmeal, rye meal, and homemade granola are in easy reach. SHELF THREE: Bread and cake pans, two kinds of salt, one a coarse sort, the other, fine sea salt. The instant coffee is for flavoring icing or puddings. SHELF FOUR: You never know what size baking dish or pie plate you will need. Don’t forget Bakewell Cream from Maine. |
Instead of trotting out recipes in the old usual soups, main dishes, and salads fashion, I think you will enjoy reading this cookbook organized according to themes. If you are looking for a particular recipe, or have a specific ingredient you want to use, you will want to turn to the index right away instead of thumbing through the whole cookbook.
The first chapter is about Maine’s classic recipes, like chowder, baked beans, lobster stew, and whoopie pies, as they are still being made in Maine. I often add bits of information about the history of some of these dishes, because over the years people have asked me questions about them, and I think you may be curious, too.
The next chapter is called “Homey Favorites” and is mostly about comfort foods, plain, tasty, home-cooked fare for families. My goal with this chapter is to provide simple recipes for basic dishes that even a new cook can follow painlessly. There’s lots of advice in here from cooks who have years of practice with economical, uncomplicated, and popular dishes.
“Contemporary Maine Cooking” follows, and here are some dishes that have cropped up in the past thirty or so years, lots of ethnic contributions and new wrinkles of the sort that I encountered in my middle age but never knew about in my youth. Some of you will have grown up with pesto, salsa, and sushi, but most of these recipes will not have appeared in, say, a charity cookbook in Maine before the 1970s.
After some homey favorites like scalloped potatoes and some modern fare like enchiladas, we will want dessert! The “Desserts of Maine” chapter includes all sorts of cakes, cookies, pies, crisps, and puddings. Even though I no longer eat dessert as often as I prefer, I turn to this collection all the time for recipes like the kick-butt Key Lime Pie or the Golden Glow Cake, both so good they’ll knock your knee caps off!
Because I cook all the time from my garden and my winter-stored supply of vegetables, I offer you a chapter called “Fresh and Seasonal” that walks you through the year with recipes for all sorts of vegetables straight from the garden. That chapter is followed by “Well Preserved and in a Pickle.” I hope I am well preserved, and often find myself in a pickle, especially when there are too many vegetables at once and I have to get them into jars or the freezer tout suite or feed the fruit flies. This chapter tells how I do it and how you can, too.
The very last chapter is “Do It Yourself,” with collected advice and wisdom for making home versions of some commercial products. You will also find some other good cooking ideas that readers have shared over the years.
Why does Maine still have a strong home cooking tradition? Much of Down East, Maine, like swaths of Middle America, is still rural, and fast-food alternatives are fewer and farther between. Some of us think we’d rather spend our hard-earned cash on stuff besides food we think we can make ourselves. You’d expect older people like me to be home cooks, but I find even younger Mainers will cook a meal for their families after a day’s work. They prefer, as much as they are able, to be in charge of what goes into a meal and their children’s mouths.
I know this because readers of my weekly Bangor Daily News column, “Taste Buds,” responded enthusiastically whenever I put out a call for a recipe for the kinds of dishes we all make for our families. Not only did they send recipes, but they also sent stories about how they learned to make the dish, or recalled a memory of eating it or the person who taught them how to put it together. Recipes became mini-memoirs, and Down East, Maine, is rich in personal cooking stories, as you will soon see.
I have numerous co-authors, the wonderful folks who have shared recipes and ideas, memories and advice. Since April 2006, these cook-contributors to the “Taste Buds” column have taught me a lot and inspired me every week. Some of these folks are my neighbors and friends on Islesboro Island. Others are old friends, many from Stonington and North Stonington, where I lived for twenty years. Many more are “Taste Buds” readers in the Bangor Daily News.
Some of these folks wrote me letters sent through the mail. Some sent emails. In some cases, especially emailed letters, I did not discover what town they lived in and so that information is omitted.
I have tinkered with their recipes, averaged them out, and offered up their collective wisdom. To all of them, thank you. Without you, there would be no book for us all to share. I am delighted and proud to be associated with all of you. For a full list of my co-authors see page 276.