Wednesday, March 20, 2019

Trudy's Pierogi With Kraut From Sts. Peter & Paul in Detroit


My boyfriend gave me a cookbook that was his mother's called "Wildlife Chef".  Tucked inside was a yellowed piece of paper, very neatly folded into thirds.  Written in his grandmother's beautifully meticulous cursive handwriting was this recipe.  Of course, I had to make it!  And it was wonderful.  


For the Kraut:

1 large jar of kraut
1 onion, sliced
1 tablespoon butter
1 tablespoon oil
Salt & pepper, to taste

Drain juice from kraut.  Put in boiling water for 5 minutes.  Drain in a colander under cool water.  Squeeze dry. 

In a fry pan, melt butter and add oil.  Sauté onion, and cook over medium heat until a little caramelized. 

Put kraut in frying pan with sautéed onion.  Add salt & pepper to taste.  Cook until a little brown. 

(Filling for pierogi, or can be served as a side dish)

For the Pierogi:

2 cups flour
½ cup warm milk
1 whole egg + 1 yolk
2 tablespoons sour cream
½ teaspoon salt
1 tablespoon butter for richer dough (optional)

Mix ingredients and knead into a soft, pliable dough.  Let rest for 10 minutes covered with a warm bowl. 

Divide dough into halves and roll thin.  Cut circles with large biscuit cutter. 

Place a small spoonful of filling a little to one side.  Moisten edge with water.  Fold over and press edges together firmly.  Be sure they are well sealed to prevent the filling from running out. 

Drop pierogi into salted, boiling water.  Cook for 5 minutes.  Lift out of water carefully with a slotted spoon.

Serve with melted butter. 

*********
Beth's note:
When I make pierogi, I melt butter in a fry pan, then add the boiled pierogi to the butter.  Cook on one side until they are browned, then flip and fry the second side.  I like to serve them with a dollop of sour cream.  

Also, if you are not eating them all right away, place on a cookie sheet lined with waxed paper or parchment paper dusted with flour.  Put in the freezer until well frozen and stash in a large ziplock bag.  They will keep for at least a month.


Wednesday, June 13, 2018

Hey, AB



Hey, AB.
It’s me, Beth.  We never met, but I am pretty sure we should have.  Pretty sure we would have shared some amazing meals together, not to mention loads of laughter, not to mention drinks!  You got me through the grueling experience of culinary school,  as I went through a divorce and watched my mother slowly die.  Working in the kitchen sucks, but I somehow find the chutzpah to suffer through it.  Also, I have been to 47 states, 5 Canadian provinces/territories (I've smuggled in pot and alcohol), Japan (solo trip!  I smuggled drugs in there, too!), 9 European countries (also some solo adventures there), not to mention Mexico (I've bribed security guards at the airport!), various Central American countries and the Caribbean.  I love people and I love food.  The hours I spent in front of the TV watching No Reservations are countless.  We are kindred spirits.  You turned me from a cook into a chef; from a tourist into a traveler.  Even in my home town of San Diego, I talk to everyone and love every soul I come in contact with.  That was the gift you gave me. You may be gone, but I’m not.  You left a mark on me ; you affected me.  All I can say is thank you.  We all have our struggles – me too.  But thank you.  Your influence in my life was and is a gift.   

Wednesday, May 30, 2018

7 Kitchen Tasks and Recipes I Hate!

This may come as a surprise to you, but there are days I want to rip my hair out in the kitchen.  I absolutely love what I do, but there are a few things that I hate.  Some are certain recipes I have to cook at work, and others are prepping tasks that make me want to blow my brains out.  Here is a short list of examples:

  1. ANYTHING regarding chocolate.  Anyone that knows me, knows I hate it.  The nasty smell of it, the feeling of it when it melts on my fingers, the gross way it leaves a chocolaty trail in my mouth when I attempt to eat it.  It's disgusting.  Even thinking about it gives me the chills.  In a bad way.  This is #1 on the list for a reason.  I hate touching it, chopping it, smelling it.  Yuck.
  2. Cleaning spinach.  My clients have me make creamed spinach at least once a week.  They buy 4 giant bunches that are more often than not coated in dirt and mud.  I have to soak them in the sink at least twice to get rid of the grit.  Then, most tedious of all, I have to remove the stems from the leaves, one at a time.  It takes like 30 minutes.  There is no sense in buying the fresh spinach.  First of all, it's expensive.  Secondly, frozen spinach is exactly the same thing.  It would save me time and them money, but for some reason they opt for the fresh stuff.  I get paid, so I can't complain I suppose.
  3. Touching chicken.  Even at home, I always use gloves.  The skin, the fat, the flesh ... it is so nasty.  And I clean everything with bleach afterward that the chicken could have possibly breathed its salmonella on.  As a side note, I will say that I got a 97% on my chicken fabrication final in culinary school.  But, ew.  Raw poultry is for the birds.  
  4. Prepping shallots.  Random, I know.  But they are a pain in the ass.  The skin is super thin and sometimes impossible to peel off.  Then you get shallot twinsies that have the space in between them that is coated in black mold that is super nasty.  It gets on your fingers, it stinks .... Ugh.  I hate those things.  
  5. Cooking rice on the stove.  This is my Achilles heal.  For some reason, I always screw it up.  It ends up an over cooked, starchy mess and scorched to the bottom of the pan every time!  I have a rice cooker now, which is the secret to my rice cooking success.  Well worth the investment.
  6. Noodle Kugel.  That makes me dry heave just thinking about it.  It's supposedly Jewish comfort food, but that is highly debatable.  It's egg noodles, baked in a dish with this nasty custard laced with raisins and cinnamon.  Imagine creme brulee with pasta.  I take so much pride in what I do, but I made this the other day and I gagged as I was plating it.  It's so awful.  I can't even taste-test it, and I feel badly serving it.  But my family loves that stuff.  Go figure.
  7. Martha Stewart's Oven Baked Sweet Potato Fries.  I saved this for last because these things are the bane of my existence.  I must have made this recipe 50 times, but 25 of those times were fixing the recipe so it worked.  The "fries" would come out mushy every time, or they would stick to the pan.  One has to first pre-cook them in the microwave, then plop them onto a cookie sheet so the excess moisture can steam away.  Then you whip egg whites with brown sugar.  Coat the "fries" in the mixture then bake them off at a very high temperature.  They'd come out masked in a cloak of scrambled egg whites.  And mushy.  Way to go, Martha.  Recipes are a suggested guideline, people.  They do not always work and you have to use common sense and instinct to fix them.  
Don't get me wrong.  I love what I do.  I love the people I cook for, and I usually wake up in a great mood knowing that I am blessed to be able to earn money at what I am passionate about.  But there are days I want to cringe.  

Monday, May 14, 2018

Tomato Sauce 101


There are 3 things I do not mind buying in a can:

  1. Chipotle peppers in adobe (smoked jalapeno peppers in a lovely tomato sauce) -- they are a great addition to marinades, baked beans, chili, taco meat ... you name it!
  2. Beans -- I never cook beans from scratch.  The canned versions save me so much time and they taste perfect.  Just give them a good, healthy rinse with cold water and proceed.
  3. TOMATOES! -- most especially the Italian variety (they just taste better!).  Even in California, with our year round growing season, the time of year when tomatoes are at their peak is limited.  And the ones you buy at your random supermarket most likely were picked before they were ripe in some far-off land, so they are mostly water and zero flavor.  The canned ones are optimal, especially for soups and sauces!

Beth's Super Easy, Homemade Tomato Sauce

Chef's note:  You can easily double or triple this recipe.  It takes just as much time and energy to cook 2 quarts as it does a gallon.  Just put it in pint-size containers and store it in the freezer for when you need it.  Making tomato sauce from scratch is much easier than one would think.  It not only tastes better, but it is much better for you than the processed stuff in a jar.

2-28oz cans canned tomatoes (preferably Italian, whole; crushed by hand)
1/3 cup extra virgin olive oil
8-10 garlic cloves, smashed with skins removed
1/2 teaspoon dried chili flakes (plus more to taste, at the end)
A big handful of basil
1" square of Parmesan cheese rind, or just a chunk of Parmesan cheese
1 teaspoon of sugar, or to taste
Salt & pepper, to taste




Heat oil over medium heat in a pot that will fit the tomatoes.  Add the garlic cloves and fry them until they are golden brown.  The best way to achieve this is to tip the pan so the cloves are essentially deep-frying.  Once they are starting to brown, use a spoon to pull them out and discard them (or you can leave a few -- it's a matter of taste!).  What you are doing is making sure that the garlicky flavor gets infused with the oil.  

Sprinkle in the chili flakes and cook for about 30 seconds.  Don't let them burn or the sauce will be bitter!  


Very carefully, slide the tomatoes into the oil.  It will spatter, so use caution.  Stir well, and bring to a simmer.  Add the basil and Parmesan bits, and stir to incorporate.  Reduce heat to low, and stir frequently.  Do not allow the bottom to burn!  Continue cooking until the sauce is nice and thick, about 30 minutes or so.  It should coat the back of a spoon.  

Once it is nice and thick, you can either leave it chunky or you can use an immersion blender to puree it a little bit.  (Or carefully pulse in a food processor).  Just be sure to remove the chunk of parmesan.

Season to taste with a little sugar, salt & pepper, and even additional chili flakes if desired.  

Makes 2 quarts.

Saturday, March 31, 2018

My Birthday Tribute to My Mom


My mother was amazing.  She was very artistic and could do wonders with her needlework.  She was patient, kind and never panicked, which made her an amazing nurse (not only professionally, but also to her daughters).  I don’t ever remember her yelling at me – I loved her too much to do anything that would get me into any real trouble.  She was my best friend and, at any age, I felt like I could tell her anything.  She had beautiful blue eyes that she rolled at the world often.  But for her girls, she was always there with a shoulder to lean on or, worst case, to cry on; there was never a shortage of hugs, or encouragement.  The pride that she had in both my sister and me alike often gives me the motivation to keep going and to strive to be the best that I can be. 


However, we all have our Achilles heel, and she was a terrible cook.  For example, a typical meal might involve something Stouffer’s refers to as S.O.S.  It’s shaved “meat” of some kind in a creamy sauce.  Stouffer’s packages it conveniently in plastic so you bring a pot of water to a boil and cook the S.O.S. in it until it is warmed through.  Meanwhile, make toast.  Place the toast on a plate, with the S.O.S. on top.  For those of you not in the know, “S.O.S.” stands for “shit on shingles”.  Pretty accurate.

Another one of our staple meals was Tuna Noodle Casserole.  While the exact details of this recipe are lost, I know it included condensed-cream-of-something-soup, canned tuna, egg noodles and (ew) potato chips to give it that nice crust on the top.  My mother would cook this in an orange oven-safe, round dish that was reminiscent of Le Creuset (but way not).  This was not one of my favorite meals.  When I asked what was for dinner, and she said “Tuna noodle casserole”, I actually cringed. 

Also, macaroni and cheese was another favorite.  Not just straight up from the box (although it was), but she would add things to it.  Sometimes it was sausage, which was OK.  Other days it was Spam, which, even as a child, I was not OK with.  My dad would alternate his condiments on such meals between ketchup and syrup.  As an adult, I alternate my Mac N Cheese topping between the two.  I know how gross that sounds, but it’s pure nostalgia to me!  (Minus the Spam, of course).

Lunch items were often grilled cheese sandwiches (with Miracle Whip), Lipton chicken noodle (from the packet), Stouffer’s French bread pizza, and pizza rolls.  As an adult, after a long day in the kitchen, these are tried and true guilty pleasures (although I take a giant pass on the Miracle Whip).  Not every day staples in my diet, but I admittedly indulge in them from time to time. 

Other entrees included (but were not limited to) meatloaf, which made me throw up once.  Slumgullion, which was not always that terrible.  It’s kind of a chili-mac thing – browned ground beef, kidney beans, tomato sauce and some kind of pasta like macaroni or shells.  I am still a sucker for crunchy tacos which, out of the other possible dinner options was always a welcomed treat!  I would take tacos any day over uber dry pork chops or Salisbury steak.

Side dishes were often frozen veggies heated in the micro with butter.  Salad always included iceburg lettuce with a ketchup-based dressing that was a recipe of my Aunt Elsie’s.  On holidays, the go-to side dishes were green bean casserole (the old-school one with the cream-of-whatever soup and the canned, fried onions) and sweet potato casserole (again, old-school with the marshmallows).  Her potato salad was always a hit, with celery, onion, bacon, hard cooked eggs, mayo … my grandmother’s recipe, which I have actually adapted and improved a little bit.

But let us not forget dessert.  If it was your birthday, she would more often than not cook a cake from a box.  Nothing wrong with that!  As kids, we never complained.  The problem was that sometimes the cakes were raw in the middle!  She would just cover up the sagging middle with more frosting.  My poor mom. 

And then there was her famous jello mold with the pineapple chunks.  She had a special Tupperware mold she used, that had interchangeable bottoms that you could swap out according to what holiday it was.  If it was Christmas, there was a Christmas tree one, etc.  It went on the bottom of the bowl, so when you unmolded it, the selected design was on the top of the mold.  She was a nurse, and her first Thanksgiving with my dad, she made her jello mold.  She took it to work with her and left it in the hospital refrigerator.  After her shift, she went and had dinner at my dad’s with my brothers (I was not born yet).  The following day, one of the doctors she worked with approached her, giggling like a school boy.  “SANDY!  So who got the suppository????”  The answer was “no one”.  My mother was mortified.  As soon as she got off of work, she went to my dad’s house to inspect the remaining jello mold and she saw the suppository right on the edge, next to where the very last scoop had been taken.

Her food was not always terrible.  In the summer, she liked to barbeque.  We had a charcoal grill and she made pretty good hamburgers and grilled a killer New York steak.  In the summer, we would go to farm stands where she would buy corn on the cob, tomatoes and green beans.  Those meals were my favorites. 

In short, people are always asking me what got me into cooking.  One would assume I was in the kitchen with my mom, propped up on a stool and helping her bake chocolate chip cookies.  That pretty much never happened.  We made sugar cookies together one year for Christmas and I got so frustrated at the end that I ended up mixing all the food coloring together to get black frosting.  No, I knew from a young age my mother could not cook.  I also knew I liked food and my palate was pretty well developed at a young age from, well, being force-fed things. I knew I wanted to cook better, so I learned.  I started reading cookbooks.  I traveled.  I went to culinary school, and upon graduation was the recipient of The President’s Award.  My motivation throughout school was to make my mom proud.  Like I said, she always taught us to work hard and to try our best.  Although she was a terrible cook (and a victim of 70’s and 80’s cuisine), she inspired me to become a better one.    


Tuesday, February 13, 2018

Beth's Chicken Noodle Soup

This is another recipe of mine that is really not a recipe at all.  I play around with it every time I make it, and I would encourage you to do the same.  Let's face it:  there is nothing more comforting on a cold day than homemade soup.  This is a little labor intensive, but make a big batch and keep some in the freezer for days you really don't feel like cooking or for when the kids get sick.  It is well worth the effort and it smells really good!  And for best results, cook the noodles separately so they don't absorb all that wonderful broth. 

Ingredients for stock:

1 large chicken, excess fat removed (and don't forget to take out the neck and nasty bits!)
1 large onion, cut in half crosswise (don't bother peeling)
2 large carrots, peeled and cut into 2" chunks
2 celery stalks, cut into 2" chunks
4 garlic cloves, smashed (don't worry about the skin)
4 whole cloves
A 3" section of ginger, cut into 1/4" slices (don't bother peeling)
5 sprigs of parsley
(Optional:  I sometimes get a jalapeno, cut it in half lengthwise and toss that in, too).


1.  Rinse the chicken with cold water and put it into a pot large enough to hold it comfortably and fill the pot with enough water to cover the chicken.  Very slowly, bring the water to a simmer (uncovered) and skim the foam that rises to the surface. 

2.  Meanwhile, in a cast iron skillet or grill pan (or grill for that matter), you want to burn the cut side of the onion.  This sounds odd, but it adds a ton of flavor in the end. 

3.  Throw the onion and the remaining ingredients into the pot with the chicken, continuing to skim the foam.  Maintain a gentle simmer and do not stir.  The foam is the impurities rising to the surface (blood and fat), which you want to get rid of in order to end up with a nice, clean, clear chicken stock. 

4.  After about 30 minutes, the chicken should be pretty much cooked.  Remove from heat and allow to cool.  Once cool, pick the meat off the bones and set aside.  Depending on my mood, I sometimes dice the chicken into little chunks or I shred it.  Makes no difference.  Set aside and refrigerate.

5.  Return bones to pot and bring back to a slow simmer.  Cook for about 2 hours, uncovered, checking for foam and skimming as needed periodically.

6.  Strain through a fine-mesh strainer or through a colander lined with a few layers of cheesecloth, discarding the solids.  Allow to cool in the refrigerator.  Any remaining fat will solidify on the surface and you can just pick it off.



Ingredients for finished soup:

Finished chicken stock (you'll have about 2 quarts at least)
2 large carrots, peeled and small diced (1/4" cubes)
2 celery stalks, small diced
1 small onion, small diced
1 Tbs minced fresh thyme or 1 tsp dried
Reserved chicken meat (diced or shredded)
Juice from 1-2 lemons, to taste
Salt & pepper, to taste
Cooked egg noodles (desired amount, cooked according to package instructions)
2 Tbs minced parsley

1.  Place chicken stock in a large pot with the rest of the veggies and the thyme.  Bring to a boil until the veggies are tender.  Add reserved chicken meat.

2.  Turn off heat.  Add juice of 1 lemon and season with salt and pepper.  Depending on the tartness of the lemon, you may want to add more.

3.  To serve, place desired amount of cooked egg noodles in a bowl and ladle soup over the noodles.  Garnish with parsley.

NOTES:  If freezing, stop at step 2 and portion into containers.  Reheat and continue to step 3 before serving. 

Also, a few splashes of Tabasco or Sriracha are great if you like a little spice in your life!

If you have any mushroom trimmings hanging around, you can throw those in too.  Leeks are a nice addition as well.  Rosemary would probably be good in the stock part of the process ... Or tomato, or tomato paste.  Instead of lemon, you could use lime and swap out the parsley for cilantro.  Chipotle would be great in there, too!  Again.  This is not really a recipe; it's a guide line.  Feel free to tinker with it!

Monday, February 12, 2018

A Day in the Life of a Private Chef


 When I first met the couple that I cook for in La Jolla, I will admit I was a little intimidated.  They have a gated, gravel driveway that is lined with perfectly manicured trees.  At the end of the driveway is a brick courtyard with a fountain and more perfectly manicured trees.  Their house is beautiful and it is accessorized with a tennis court and swimming pool.  The first day I went there, I had no idea what to expect.  The lady of the house (Eileen) and their standard poodle, Wrigley,  greeted me at the door.  The door, mind you, is about 10 feet tall and glass with beautiful ironwork.  She was wearing a gorgeous navy blue ensemble that was perfectly tailored and 100% wrinkle free.  Her hair and makeup were flawless.  We sat down in the kitchen and swapped stories about food, cooking and travelling; we immediately connected, and I was hired.  I will never forget that day. 

That, unbelievably, was 5 years ago.  In that span of time, I came and went twice.  The first time I was overwhelmed with other clients.  My replacement ended up being a disaster, so I agreed to come back.  The second time I left was for reasons in my personal life.  Anyway, I have stayed in contact with them and for the past few months I have been back under their employ. 

Cooking for people on a level that is that personal is extremely rewarding.  It is challenging at times (trying to sort out recipes that don't work, or figuring out substitutions for certain ingredients, etc.), but a very close relationship develops between myself and those I cook for.  With my La Jolla family, I arrive around 3 in the afternoon.  The housekeeper, Denise, does all the food shopping and by the time I get there, she has my station all set up for me and has pulled all the ingredients I will need in order to prepare dinner.  I measure, I dice, I make salad dressings and sometimes a soup for them to stash in the freezer.  Eileen gets home usually by 4:30 and we talk about that night's meal and menus for later in the week, or even the following week.  Usually, I finish cooking by around 5:30.  I plate the courses and Denise serves it to them in their formal dining room.  What makes my heart melt is when I can hear them ooh and ah over how pretty something looks on the plate -- Leonard, the husband, especially.  He gets excited like a little boy over dinner sometimes! 


Most days, they start with a soup or a salad and then there is a main course.  After the main course is served, I do what I can to help Denise break down my station and I make my way into the dining room to see how everything is.  Wrigley, the poodle, comes to me for pets and more often than not jumps up with his giant paws on my shoulders and gives me kisses.  While I get my daily dose of dog loving, I talk with Eileen and Leonard about their dinner and make sure everything tastes OK.  Seeing them truly enjoying something I made for them makes me so happy.  My smile grows even bigger if it is a recipe that is mine that they agreed to let me make for them, or if it was a recipe that totally didn't work, that I was able to salvage.  But, hands down, it is the most gratifying job I have ever had in my life. 

And not only do I have a bond with Eileen and Leonard, but also with Denise.  She is amazing at her job and could not possibly be any sweeter.  We help each other.  I know when she is busy or is having a bad day, so I will clean up the dishes I use.  If a recipe isn't working, I ask her advice on how I should fix it.  I have my own ideas usually, but her second opinion is  always invaluable to me. 

Over the years, I have accrued many fond memories with this family.  One year, Eileen and I cooked Thanksgiving dinner together -- I will never forget it.  We even set a turkey on fire!  This is one of the previously mentioned recipes we had to fix, but everything turned out fine in the end.  My favorite spoon in their kitchen is one that is bent all out of shape.  It's the one Eileen dropped down the garbage disposal one day!  And then there was the time Leonard was trying to show Eileen how to make the dog food and she failed.  I was making risotto and, defeated, she leaned against the stove next to me and said under her breath, "I f&%$ed up the dog food." 

How does one measure success?  Without a doubt, it starts here.  Every day, I leave their home totally in love with what I do.  To enjoy something, to be good at it (or at least I think I'm good at it), and to be able to share that with others is without a doubt one of the most gratifying things on earth.