Dishing About Dad

One of my earliest memories—maybe the earliest—is a weekend morning in the kitchen with my dad, making breakfast. I couldn’t have been more than three years old. He wanted to teach me how to make scrambled eggs but I wasn’t tall enough to reach the stove, so he picked me up and securely held me over the skillet, instructing me how to slide the spatula under the eggs and push them over to gently form the curds.

My dad, Mort, has always cooked. He's always loved being in the kitchen. And, why not? My Grandma Anna was a marvelous cook and taught him well. From the time he was a child, he would make dinner for himself and his younger brother, my Uncle Dave, if my grandparents were going out for the evening. But just as important, he grew up as the oldest grandchild of Henry Denmark, owner of The Park Manor, “the” kosher catering hall in Brooklyn, back in the late 20s, 30s, 40s and 50s. This was the hot spot for Jewish boys in New York City to be bar mitzvah and Jewish couples to be married. In fact, we have pictures of its gorgeous marble staircase, with my grandparents posed in all their wedding finery.

It was an elegant place, but my dad’s favorite spot to hang out as a child was the kitchen, where he would surreptitiously snare a new, green pickle or two from a nearby barrel or learn how to make appetizers from Rosie, one of the ladies who worked in the kitchen. He obviously learned a lot. When I was growing up and my folks were entertaining regularly, usually it was my dad who made the hors d’oeuvres.

Here’s his memory of this: “One of the hors d'oeuvres that I loved consisted of a rectangular piece of crustless white bread on which was spread a mixture of skinless and boneless sardines, mashed with lemon and mayo. Then cuts of the white of a hard boiled egg were placed on the sardine mixture with a garnish of pimento and green olive. To this day I still love skinless and boneless sardines served this way.”

Growing up, I found Dad to have a great way in the kitchen. You could—and can—rely on him to make a delicious sautéed rainbow trout, linguine with white clam sauce, or steamed mussels and clams. When it comes to seafood, his gurus are Jacques Pepin and Legal Seafood in Boston But he doesn’t need fine ingredients. On Saturday afternoons after religious school, Dad often made us lunch. It could be thin jelly omelets; grilled bratwurst smothered in mustard, chopped onions and sauerkraut; or gooey cheese rarebit from pieces of cheese that let’s just say had passed their prime. “Just cut off the bad stuff,” he’d say. “It’s fine.” And, it was. His lunches always have been utterly delicious.

Back in the ‘70s, our friend Tom van Leeuwen, who lives in Amsterdam, taught Dad to make Dutch pancakes—what we call “Tom-Aches”—and the recipe (see below) remains simply a list of unmeasured ingredients with my dad magically turning them into thin crepes onto which we spread melted butter, squeeze lemon juice and then sprinkle with powder sugar.

Dad’s our grill guy, although I wouldn’t say that’s his specialty. His specialty was and remains to introduce us—first his kids and then his grandkids—to wonderful food, whether it was a Japanese tempura bar in L.A.’s Little Tokyo in the ‘60s (long before sushi appeared in the U.S.), roasted street chestnuts in Manhattan in the ‘70s or dim sum in the ‘90s through today. I continue to mash canned red salmon with white vinegar and chopped onions, and mound it on a toasted bagel in a summer heat wave; it’s a reliable meal that’s a relief from cooking in a hot kitchen and has the added benefit of taking me back to my childhood. Our first house had no air conditioning, so he would whip that up for us when he got home from work, along with a big pitcher of the best egg cream in the world, using Fox’s U-Bet chocolate syrup, of course. Thanks to him, my nieces and nephews know from egg creams, and still adore his grilled cheese sandwiches, or “toasties,” and “eggie on toast.” And, of course, whenever I scramble eggs, he’s giving me directions in my head.

I’m not the only daughter with great memories of their dad in the kitchen. Here are some others:

From San Diego chef Diane Stopford: My Dad is probably the single biggest culinary influence in my life. If it wasn't for my Dad's love of food, cooking and travel I probably would never of pursued a career in food and moved across to the U.S.

Some of my earliest memories of cooking in the kitchen involved baking on Sunday afternoons. Rhubarb crumble, apple sponge, scones, chocolate cake and of course Yorkshire puddings for the Sunday roast, these are some of the first recipes I remember making . I was given free range of the kitchen but needed help reading the weighing scales (we don't use measuring cups in Ireland) so my Dad would take a magic marker and mark off 2,4 and 8 oz on the scales so I could weigh out the ingredients without constantly interrupting him reading the Sunday papers.

Diane's dad, Peter Stopford, with a roast leg of lamb

As a teenager while my siblings and peers were competing on the sports field, I was competing in cooking competitions. My parents were extremely supportive of me entering these events, constantly buying the ingredients and equipment for me to practice. It was always my Dad who took the time off work and accompanied me to the competitions, helped me set up, smiled, gave me the thumbs up and and when it was all over did the most important job, the washing up!

From Sandi Timberlake, owner of A Little to the Left greeting cards: My dad was not really much of a cook. He worked 2 and 3 jobs at a time to support the family. But he did a few things that I will always remember.

First, he always had one glass of chianti with dinner—no matter what we had for dinner. Second, whenever we had steak for dinner, he had a habit of taking a piece of fresh Italian bread (the likes of which I have never found in any other place in the world except for the town where I grew up) and tossing it into the "juice" of the steak on the platter and saying "Ooops!" as if it were an accident that the bread "fell" into it. Third, in the summer, he would sometimes cut up a peach into chunks and immerse them into a glass of Tawny Port—dessert!
Or—he would manually crack ice and put it into a short glass and pour Crème de menthe over it, sipping it slowly to "settle his stomach."

It makes him sound like a real drinker, but really, he wasn't. What you see above was the sum total of his drinking habits. He was a great guy, a hard worker, a wonderful father and a real saint. I miss him still.

From Leslie Wolf Branscomb, editor of San Diego Uptown News: My dad made a classic BBQ sauce we use to this day. (Secret ingredient: Grand Marnier) However, now that Dad's gone, we've recently come to debate the name and source of the sauce recipe, and whether Dad actually made it or Mom did. Brings back memories of the backyard barbecues, which, in our household of lawyers and journalists, always included a cheerfully robust, wine-fueled debate or two.

Leslie's dad, Bob Wolf, taking on the Thanksgiving turkey

From Debbie Petruzzelli, media relations for Balboa Park: Saturday lunch dad would throw every leftover in fridge in blender & make burrito filling. UGLY but tasty!

And, finally, from one of my favorite people, my 13-year-old niece Samantha Golden: It is amazing how people stereotype men and women. They say that the woman spends her time in the kitchen while the man is making the money and working hard. In this century stereotypes are being proved wrong; women go to work and men cook. I absolutely know that my dad is a better cook than my mom is. That being said, I know everyone says my dad makes the best ribs (at least in our city). Unfortunately, being a teenager restricts the areas where I am allowed, such as the grill, so that has inhibited my rib-cooking skills. On the other hand, he has taught me how to make a recipe that has been passed from generation to generation… egg on toast. Although I know how to make it I prefer making instant rice. I suggest to everyone out there to learn how to cook from their fathers.

Samantha and her dad (and my brother), Jay Golden

You heard her, learn to cook from your father! Dads, teach your kids one of the best life skills they can possibly have.

And, to my dad and to all the dads, stepdads and granddads out there who are so adored by their kids, thank you for all you do to show us how much you love us!

Happy Father’s Day!

Tom-Aches

Ingredients:

Flour
Salt
Water
Milk
Beer
Butter
Eggs (1 per person)

Mix flour and eggs in large bowl. Smooth with water and milk, plus a little beer. The batter should be as thin as light soup. Let sit for awhile. Add salt and more beer.

Heat frying pan. When it's hot, add butter to melt. Then ladle the very thin mixture into the pan as you would a crepe. It just just cover the bottom of the pan. Tilt the pan around as it cooks, to spread the uncooked batter so it will cook evenly. If bubbles appear, brush them with melted butter.

Serve with melted butter, lemon juice and powder sugar.


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The Gourmet Club Strikes Oil

t'll be a gusher this week when we welcome Thom Curry, owner of the fabulous Temecula Olive Oil Company. Thom will be in studio with Robert and me (Maureen is off to some amazing location again) to talk about the art of making olive oil. Okay, and vinegars too.

If you're not familiar with Temecula Olive Oil Company you should be. Thom is certified by the International Olive Oil Council as a Master Taster and sits on the California Olive Oil Council's Taste Panel. They have about 100 acres northeast of San Diego County, where they farm their own groves sustainably, harvest the olives from October through March and hand blend the oils.


I'm a big fan of their late harvest, more mellow Mission Olive Oil and Roasted Garlic Reserve Olive Oil, but I'm eager to try the younger, stronger grassy Rotture di Oro, or "tears of gold." The oils are easy to pick up, either at their shop at Old Town's Plaza del Pasado or Old Town Temecula. Or you can order them, along with olives, soap, vinegars and more, online.

And, as long as we're talking oils, I'm bringing in some bottles of other edible oils I've been discovering. Such as Stony Brook's Butternut Squash Seed Oil.

I got a sample of the oil recently from the company, Stony Brook Cookie Company. It comes out of the Finger Lakes region in Geneva, New York, from seeds leftover from nearby Martin Farms in Brockport. They're the processing remains of the farm's squash for a ready-to-cook preparation sold to grocery stores. The seeds are roasted in Stony Brook's ovens and then cold pressed. The oil is then lightly filtered. They claim that each 375 ml bottle of oil contains the seeds of 10 butternut squash.

The oil is astoundingly flavorful -- very rich and nutty, like sipping roasted pumpkin seeds. I've used it in vinaigrettes, drizzled it on squash soup and over roasted vegetables. You can cook with it, even at high heat, but you will lose some of that gorgeous flavor. You can order it online from Stony Brook Cookie Company.

I'm also going to bring in some avocado oils. Bella Vado is a local avocado oil produced by Corrinne and Cid da Silva. The couple bought their 40-acre Valley Center avocado grove several years ago. With no dedicated machine for avocados, they do the job using an olive mill and press. Currently they have two varieties of oil, regular and lemon flavored (the lemons are pressed with the avocados to extract the oil, not infused into it).

A good avocado oil is rich and buttery tasting, like a good avocado, of course. And the most remarkable green color. I'm especially fond of the Bella Vado lemon-flavored oil, which I recently tried with a new favorite recipe, roasted Swiss chard, which I got from the wonderful Chef Jennifer Goldman Carden of Todder Cafe. Just roughly chop up the chard, toss it with a few tablespoons of the oil, along with minced garlic, salt and pepper. Spread the mixture on a baking sheet and roast it at 400 degrees for about 10 minutes. Watch it so it doesn't burn. It comes out very crispy and, with the lemon-flavored avocado oil, has a hint of citrus to it.

You can buy Bella Vado oils at both Whole Foods stores in San Diego, as well as at the Little Italy Mercato on Saturdays, At Home on Main Street in Fallbrook and The Temecula Valley Cheese Co. in Temecula. Cid just told me that at some point before Christmas, you'll also be able to order it online.

I also like the Pacifica Culinaria line of avocado oils. My favorite is the blood orange, which is delightful on salads and in preparing fish, like salmon or cod, as well as shrimp. I also like the roasted chili oil. The company is local, based in Temecula, but I believe they bring these oils in from Mexico and then infuse them with flavors. So, it's a different process than what the da Silvas and Thom Curry do. I've bought the Pacifica Culinaria oils at the Ocean Beach and La Jolla farmers markets from the Peggy's Pasta stand. And I just bought a bottle at Whole Foods.


We'll sample all these oils, which I think will end up making you pretty hungry. The Gourmet Club is the tastiest meeting in town. Join Robert Whitley and me this Wednesday morning on signonradio.com from 11 a.m. to noon Pacific. You can also podcast the show and listen at your convenience.

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Finally Fall! So, Roasted Squash Soup

It took until today, Sunday, for San Diego to finally get a full-on dose of blustery fall weather and I've been more than ready for it. Yesterday, I'd gone to Nijiya Market on Convoy for a few things, including a Kabocha squash. This Japanese squash is sweet, almost like a sweet potato, and I wanted to pair it with an acorn squash and some root vegetables for a roasted squash soup.


Now, I don't usually just post a recipe, but I'd mentioned on Twitter that I was planning on making the soup, which is a riff on my friend Karina Allrich's roasted vegetable chowder, and I'd gotten some Twitter requests to write it up. So, here we go, with apologies to my more competent recipe blogging friends.

I've been making winter squash soup for years and years but usually I peel the squash, cut it up, get rid of the seeds and cook it in stock before pureeing it. That's perfectly fine, but I wanted to find out if roasting the vegetables would bring out a more intense, earthy flavor.

So, instead of peeling the squash, I simply cut them into pieces, saving the seeds for toasting later, and also cut up a sweet potato and several carrots. I love roasted garlic, so I used the peeled cloves of half a head. All this went on a large baking sheet, tossed with olive oil, dried thyme and kosher salt. Ordinarily I would also include pepper but I'm giving some of this to my mom, who can't eat pepper. I then poured homemade chicken stock and Manzanilla sherry over the vegetables.


The vegetables went into a pre-heated 400-degree oven and roasted for about 45 minutes, until they were brown, soft and caramelized.


Once the vegetables cool a bit, you can easily pull the skin off the squash. While they were cooling, I pulled out my favorite blue Le Creuset dutch oven and added some olive oil. Once that had heated up, I added chopped leeks, minced garlic and grated ginger, sauteeing until they were just starting to turn golden. With the squash peeled, I added the roasted vegetables to the pot, incorporating them into the leek mixture. Then I added a quart of chicken stock and brought the soup to a slow boil. I turned down the heat and covered the pot, letting the soup simmer for about 15 minutes.


At that point, it's time to pull out the immersion blender and puree the soup. I like to leave it just a little chunky. Taste and adjust the seasonings, perhaps even add some water or more sherry if it's too thick.

And, remember those squash seeds? Don't let them go to waste. Rinse them thoroughly in a colander, removing as much of the stringy pulp as you can. Let them dry, then toss them in a bowl with just enough olive oil to coat them and perhaps some garlic salt (you could use any spice or herb, actually).


Spread them on a baking sheet and toast them for about 30 minutes at 350 degrees, periodically stirring them around. You want them nice and golden brown.


These are great for snacking, but, of course, I'm serving them on top of my soup, along with some sour cream (no time to run out for creme fraiche) and fresh thyme leaves from my garden. Thanks to my friend Angela, who is stopping by for dinner, I'll have a warm sourdough baguette from Bread & Cie to dunk with, along with butter from Spring Hill Jersey Cheese.



And, yes, roasting makes a big difference!

By the way, if you really have a fixation on squash soups, take a look at my Gourmet Club co-host Maureen Clancy's write up of her experience with Austrian kurbiscremesuppe (roasted pumpkin, butternut squash soup). It sounds amazing!

So, here's the recipe:

Roasted Winter Squash Soup

Pre-heat oven to 400 degrees.

Step 1:

1 kabocha squash (about 3 lbs.)

1 acorn squash (about 1.5 lbs.)

1 medium-size sweet potato

5 carrots

½ head of garlic, peel cloves but leave whole

½ cup chicken stock

½ cup sherry (I used Manzanilla sherry)

¼ cup olive oil

1 tsp. dried thyme

½ tsp. kosher salt

¼ tsp freshly ground pepper (optional)

Cut squashes in half and spoon out seeds. Save seeds for later. Cut squash halves into quarters. Put on large roasting pan or large heavy sheet pan. Wash and cut carrots into 1-inch pieces. Add to squash pieces. Wash and cut sweet potato into large chunks and add to pan. Toss in garlic cloves. Drizzle olive oil on vegetables. Sprinkle thyme, salt and pepper on vegetables. Toss mixture with hands to coat vegetables. Add stock and sherry. Roast for 45 minutes or until the vegetables are soft and caramelizing, stirring about halfway through. When vegetables are out of the oven, let them cool, then pull off skin from squash pieces and discard.

Step 2:

2 leeks, trimmed of green, cleaned, and chopped

5 cloves garlic, minced

½-inch piece of ginger, peeled and grated

¼ cup olive oil

1 quart chicken stock

Roasted vegetables from Step 1 above

1 tbl. fresh whole thyme leaves

Crème fraiche or sour cream

*Roasted squash seeds

In large heavy-bottom pot, heat olive oil and add leeks, ginger, and garlic. Saute until just turning golden. Add roasted vegetables and stir to mix. Add stock and bring to slow boil. Then cover and lower heat to simmer. Gently simmer for about 15 minutes. Using an immersion blender, puree the soup. Taste and adjust seasonings. If it’s too thick, add a little water to reach right consistency.

Serve with a dollop of crème fraiche and sprinkles of thyme leaves and roasted squash seeds.

*Roasted squash seeds

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

Rinse seeds thoroughly in colander, removing stringy pulp. Let dry. Toss seeds in a bowl with just enough olive oil to coat along with a dash of garlic salt. Spread seeds in a single layer on an oiled baking sheet. Roast for about 30 minutes, stirring every 10 minutes, until golden brown. Great snacking but if you can hold out, sprinkle on the soup.

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