Come Into My Kitchen |
| Cookbooks should be read in bed. Never in the heat of the moment when you're desperate for a different way to cook something that has been too long in residence. You don't have time to search for a salvaging operation. The time to read cookbooks, I reiterate, is when you're in bed. This piece of wisdom applies equally to the treatment of what the medical profession insists on calling "the common cold." In my family it was always called "a Mennen cold." (I was a Mennen before I became a Marks.) The Mennen cold is the aristocrat of the cold genre. It's the kind of cold in which your nose drips like a faucet turned on in icy weather to prevent pipes from freezing; your throat is as raw as an uncooked steak; your eyes are as pink-rimmed as a white rabbit's and you're bursting at the seams with self-pity. Anatomically, nothing actually hurts enough to justify calling your ailment the flu-so you can't expect any sympathy from your friends and well-wishers. After all, it's just a cold, no big deal. This is how we Mennens deal with our ailment: We rub our chest with smelly Vicks, rub some more on our throat, gargle with hot salt water and drink lots of liquids. But most important of all, we go to bed. I have had major illnesses as well as minor. But none provided me with the self-pity I feel when I am in the throes of a true Mennen cold, when I accidentally glimpse myself in the mirror, all senses affected, the torrent at full tide, the Kleenex manufacturers made happy and rich. If you can't claim to have the authentic flu, the kind that makes headlines every winter under different names, you can still go to bed armed with a trashy novel. In my case, I take four or five cookbooks (they're more fascinating than any Agatha Christie mystery), pencil and pad, and jot down the recipes I might make when I return to normalcy and the kitchen. I didn't say actually cook them, mind you; just jot down the page number and title of the book. That should suffice. That way my time in bed isn't really wasted. I'm tasting with my mind and finding grist for my mill. With my system, You don't feel guilty about lolling in bed all
day; it comes under the heading of research. Whether you actually prepare
the recipes is immaterial. Your cold may not be healing, but you're
at peace with your conscience. Skillet Cheese Omelet 3 eggs Heat oven to 35O degrees. Separate eggs. In small bowl, combine egg yolks, seasoning salt, summer savory and milk or cream. In small bowl of electric mixer, beat egg whites with cream of tartar until they form stiff peaks. Gradually fold in egg yolk mixture until blended. Gently fold in 1/2 cup cheese. In medium-size, ovenproof skillet, melt butter over low heat but do not brown. Pour in egg mixture, cook 2 to 3 minutes until bottom of omelet is just set. (You can pull a little back with spatula and peep). Place in preheated oven and back 10 to 12 minutes until set but not
dry. (Test with knife inserted in center.) Remove from oven and sprinkle
with remaining 1/4 cup cheese and serve at once. Serves three. Guiltless Chocolate Mousse 1 Tablespoon unflavored gelatin In blender, sprinkle gelatin over cold milk, let stand 2 minutes.
Add hot milk and process at low speed until gelatin is completely dissolved,
about 2 minutes Cocktail Cheese Wafers (These are good and simple to make since they are formed and baked like refrigerator cookies. They may be frozen either before or after baking. If frozen before, allow to thaw in refrigerator before slicing.) 3/4 cup butter or margarine In large bowl or electric mixer, cream butter, cream cheese and cheddar
cheese until smooth. Blend in all other ingredients. Shape into 1-1/2
inch rolls, wrap in waxed paper and chill thoroughly. Slice about 1/8
inch thick and bake on ungreased cookie sheet in 350 degree oven for
10 to 12 minutes. Do not over bake. Yields 8 to 10 dozen. White Bean and Vegetable Soup 1 lb. dried white beans (Great Northern) Place white beans in large pot. Add enough cold water to cover by 3 inches; soak overnight; drain well. Return beans to pot, add 10 cups water, stock, ham hocks, whole onion, garlic and herbs. Bring to boil; reduce heat, partially cover and simmer until beans are tender, stirring occasionally (about 2 hours). Add potatoes and carrots and simmer 30 minutes. May be prepared one day ahead. Cover and chill. Bring to simmer before continuing. Bring large pot of water to boil; add cabbage and cook about 8 minutes;
drain well. Add cabbage and lima beans to soup; simmer 10 minutes. Season
to taste with salt and pepper. Discard onion, bay leaf, remove ham,
cut meat from bones and cut into small pieces. Return meat to soup and
reheat. Serves 10. Freezes well. Ginny's Vegetable Casserole Supreme (All measurements are approximate and flexible; use whatever you have)
Combine all above in large bowl. In a small bowl, combine 4 Tablespoons melted butter; 1 Tablespoon sugar; 2 Tablespoons tapioca and 1 tsp. salt. Pour over vegetables, stir gently and turn into buttered casserole. Cover and bake 1-1/2 hours at 350 degrees. Serves 6, 8, maybe 10.
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