ruth cooks |
||||||
|
June 18, 2003 Miss Marigold, a highly opinionated lady of uncertain age, is a composite of several wonderful tell-it-like-it-is people who have served as culinary mentors and inspiration over the years. Miss Marigold Does the ABC’s
Miss M and I sat on her back porch having fun making up imaginary policy rules for the ABC restaurants: Applebee’s, Bennigan’s, Chili’s, and the like. We had just gotten to the show-and-tell part. “Just for fun, Miss M, let’s see how many of our rules they followed,” I said. “Rule number one: ‘The menu must be very long, so long that it no restaurant could possibly make anything from scratch; it all has to come frozen off the restaurant supply truck.’” “To a T, my dear. It also followed the Rules Two and Three: ‘There must be at least 37 deep fried items on the menu’ and ‘At least half the menu items must come with French fries or be smothered in American cheese or both.’ My hosts ordered two appetizers, the onion rings fried in slightly rancid grease and the inferior spinach dip—there’s your cheese—served with soggy flatbread. “And how about Rule Number Four?” I asked. ‘No entrée shall be accompanied by a green salad, thus requiring the customer to pay extra for anything remotely fresh.’” “By the book! My order did begin with a salad. Salad Woebegone, it should have been called. It consisted of iceberg lettuce, two wedges of over-the-hill supermarket tomato, two slices of pithy cucumber, dry croutons, a few fake bacon bits, and something that turned out to be hard cooked egg white. I thought it was tasteless bleu cheese until I actually found one solitary piece of bleu cheese the size of a pea. Dismal. “And,” Miss Marigold continued, “they continued with Rule Six: ‘The more expensive entrees shall come with a choice of two ubiquitous and boring side items.’ Like baked potatoes, coleslaw, baked cinnamon apples (no doubt canned, hard centered and loaded with sugar), green beans, some other vegetable, and rice. This time they had something called Gerald’s Broccoli, which I ordered under the mistaken impression that if a vegetable is named for someone it’s because he has invented a new and wonderful dish. No such luck, it appears that Gerald prefers his broccoli barely steamed, barely seasoned and barely warm.” “I think we’re getting ahead of ourselves, Miss M, what did you choose for an entrée?” I asked. “Well, of course, I never order the fake Chinese, fake Italian or fake Mexican entrees. And my primary aim was to eat as cheaply as possible—better to spend $10 on a bad meal than $25—so I ordered a single grilled chop. As it turned out, the chop was done perfectly and was the only edible portion of my entire dinner.” ”And your second side item?” “There I also went wrong, as if there’s any way you can go right in this kind of place. I ordered the garlic mashed potatoes. Or was it smashed? That word smashed usually means they don’t bother to peel the potatoes or do a good job mashing them. They were nearly cold, dry and tasteless. The garlic had evidently taken a hike, along with butter and cream and anything else to make them palatable.” “Did anyone else fare better with their choices?” I asked. “The children’s father did like his Monte Cristo sandwich. I thought at first he’d ordered a Monte Crisco! But it was deep fried and came with French fries to boot.”` Miss Marigold went to answer her doorbell, and I sat there trying to remember Rule Number Seven. Oh, yes, it was: “Dessert choices should be limited to frozen desserts: two to three ice cream extravaganzas, key lime pie, cheesecake. One dessert of any kind may be designated Death by Chocolate.” Of course it is permissible, even desirable, to slop chocolate sauce all over anything. Back came Miss M. “It was my sister, Mamie, leaving me a mess of spring peas from her garden. Why don’t you stay for supper and we’ll have some?” “I’d be delighted, Miss M, I’ll help shell. But first, tell me about dessert at the restaurant.” “I dodged that particular land mine. We all went back to my house for homemade chocolate fudge cake and the birthday girl brought her new Cuisinart ice cream maker and made strawberry sorbet. But I just thought of something else.” “What’s that, Miss Marigold?” “Perhaps we needed a Rule Eight: ‘If the restaurant is not impeccably clean, put 20 watt bulbs in the light fixtures.’” “Eeeeuw! Which chain was it?” I asked, resolving to never darken their doorstep. “I don’t recall the name of this restaurant, only that it
was Irish themed. Let’s just call it This recipe is a spoiler: once you’ve tasted them, you’ll be spoiled for any restaurant’s version. Make a lot, because your oil won’t be good for anything else after onions are fried in it. One warm spring day in Nashville I plugged in my little deep fryer outside on the patio and let these star as appetizers for company. One of my guests had always claimed she couldn’t eat onions, but you should have seen her scarf these down. Any onion will do, as the ice water treatment makes them sweet as Vidalias. 3 large onions, sliced ¼” thick or a little smaller Batter: Cover the sliced onions with ice water and let soak for two hours. Just before frying, heat oil to 375 degrees. Drain onions well. Beat egg with buttermilk. Combine flour, soda and salt and stir into milk. Dip rings in batter, letting excess drip off. Fry in small batches.
When light brown, drain on paper towels and lightly salt, preferably
with sea salt. I’ve been making this cookie since the 1950s, when as a pre-teen and teen I worked my way through both the Betty Crocker and Better Homes and Gardens cookbooks and my mother’s handwritten recipe notebook. Though simple, these baked-on frosting bars are curiously satisfying, even without the nuts. If you use almonds, add a drop of almond flavoring with the vanilla. 1/2 cup butter, softened Topping: You may use the conventional mixing method (cream butter and sugar, add eggs, stir in dry ingredients and vanilla) or just throw everything in the food processor and process until just mixed. Spread dough evenly over a 10” x 15” buttered or sprayed cookie sheet with sides. In a small bowl with an egg beater or hand held mixer, beat egg whites until they hold a soft peak, then beat in brown sugar. Spread over first mixture. Sprinkle with nuts, if desired. Bake for about 30 minutes at 325 degrees. Cut into squares.
©Copyright 2003 - All Rights Reserved
|