Tradition: Ravioli with spinach-tomato sauce

The spinach, tomatoes and basil complimented the cheese ravioli nicely.

Okay, the meal might not be entirely a tradition, although my college roommate and I certainly ate enough refrigerated ravioli to make it one.

Unless you make it yourself, pasta is pasta, as far as I am concerned. What sets it apart is the sauce.

Now, I've made some mean spaghetti sauces in my day, including one when I was a teenager that basically includes large chunks of whatever fresh vegetables we had lying around and a can of chunked tomatoes, spiced up with some herbs and a pinch of cinnamon. It was good, I promise.

Last night, having realized that I recently bought two packages of pasta and no sauce, Carl and I got creative.

What we ended up with was a spinach-tomato sauce that complimented the cheese ravioli perfectly. It also went nicely with Newcastle.

Spinach-tomato pasta sauce:

Dice half a small onion and a couple large cloves of garlic and saute in a bit of olive oil until the onions are clear.

Using your kitchen shears, cut apart whole tomatoes. One can is enough, depending on how much you like tomatoes. Add the tomatoes to the pan with the onions and garlic.

In the meantime, put a package of frozen spinach in the microwave to thaw. Two minutes or slightly more should be enough. Empty the package into a clean dishcloth (preferably not white!) and squeeze the water out of the spinach. Add to the pan.

Add a fourth of a cup of fresh, chopped basil, a teaspoon dried oregano, a fourth of a teaspoon salt, a fourth of a teaspoon pepper, a pinch of nutmeg and a small pinch of sugar.

Add a teaspoon of capers, with liquid.

Add about a cup of water (more if necessary), bring to a boil, then lower the temperature, cover and simmer for 10 minutes.

In the meantime, cook the pasta. By the time it is finished, the sauce should be ready.

Add fresh parmesan as a topping.

Adventure: Acorn squash

When Carl and I got married, his dislike of bell peppers and sweet potatoes were high on my list of things I was unhappy about (it was a short list).

Two and a half years later, he’s conceded that sweet potatoes are good if roasted with salt, pepper and a little olive oil instead of covered in sugar and marshmallows, and even bell peppers are edible if cooked.

But, one of the biggest concessions – even bigger than that kale now appears regularly on our table – is squash. Acorn, spaghetti, butternut or pumpkin, winter squash is a fun and tasty vegetable just perfect for cool evenings.

Carl has never been quite sure though.

The first time I fixed acorn squash and served it, he looked skeptical, especially when he saw me spoon a little honey over top. He chose to try it with a little salt and butter and a lot of pepper, his face slowly changing from dubious to neutral to not-quite-happy-but-far-from-disgust. “Hey,” he said. “This isn’t too bad.”

A slight victory, perhaps, but a victory nonetheless.

If you look at an acorn squash in bewilderment, here’s how to cook it:

Cut it in half from top to bottom using a large, sharp knife. It’s a bit like cutting a melon, except the squash is a lot denser.

Put the two halves, cut-side down, in a microwavable dish. I use a 9x9 glass baking dish.

Add just a bit of water to the dish. A fourth to a half of a cup should do it.

Cover the pan lightly. If you use plastic wrap, be sure to leave a corner slightly open so the steam can escape.

Microwave for about 12 minutes. The flesh of the squash should be tender and easy to mash with a fork when done.

Add a bit of salt, pepper and butter or butter and honey (or brown sugar) and eat straight out of the shell. 

Tradition: Cast-iron skillets

I admit, I wouldn't know how to make several dishes without my cast-iron skillet.

German pizza, sausage, breakfast steaks and spaghetti sauce all necessitate Carl and I pulling out the cast-iron.

But, the main item that just isn't the same without a cast-iron skillet is cornbread.

No matter what kind, the trick is to put a thin layer of vegetable oil in the bottom of your cast-iron skillet and put the skillet in the oven while it pre-heats.

Once the oven is hot, take out the pan (remember the handle is hot!), and carefully pour your batter into the hot oil.  Put the skillet directly back into the oven and set your timer.

It comes out beautifully crisp on all sides and wonderfully moist inside.

And, the best part is, the oil helps keep your cast-iron skillet in top shape.

I learned when I was young that proudly showing Mom the cast-iron skillet I scrubbed and scrubbed at meant I was in trouble. Funnily enough, Mom has a similar story of the time she worked and worked to get all that built-on grease out of Boo Boo's iron skillet.

In case you have a child who is so proud of having "helped" or new to the iron skillet world, here's what you need to know about seasoning your skillet.

Lightly coat the entire skillet with vegetable oil and wipe out the excess. Put your skillet upside down in a 250 degree oven for 20 to 30 minutes. Let it cool, then repeat the process three more times.

Don't clean your skillets too aggressively. A nice layer of grease is what gives cast-iron skillet cooking its distinctive flavoring. Instead of soap and steel wool, use sea salt for any stuck-on food. Otherwise, just use hot water and rinse well.

Once clean, wipe a thin layer of oil on the inside of the skillet to keep it from rusting. If you have a lid, store the skillet with the lid askew so the pots can breathe.

Adventure: Maple syrup brunch

Looks tasty, but ended with maple syrup overload.

Carl and I got ambitious this morning thanks to our latest Food Network magazine and a half- bottle of pure maple syrup in the 'fridge.

You see, last spring, the magazine included a recipe for Maple Oatmeal Scones, which sounded delicious. In October, they included Spiced Maple Sausage, which also sounded pretty good. So, since we had the maple syrup, we decided, why not?

On a side note, when I was in Germany, I attempted to explain biscuits to my Scottish and Irish friends by explaining that they were similar to scones. They aren't really. Scones and biscuits have entirely different textures. But, they sort of look the same. And, it is really hard to explain biscuits to someone for whom that word means "cookie."

But, back to brunch.

While tasty, the meal ended in maple syrup overload.

Unlike biscuits, the scones were much drier and more crumbly. They sort of fell apart in an almost cake sort of way. We made a powdered sugar, maple syrup and vanilla glaze to spoon over the top, then sprinkled a few oats on that. I liked the oats. It made them look healthy.

Before baking, we brushed the scones with an egg and milk mixture.

The sausage was where we went wrong. The original recipe called for 1 3/4 pounds of pork sausage. We only had one pound and that conversion gets a little sticky. What ended up happening is that not all the ingredients, including the maple syrup, got cut as they should have.

After you mix all the ingredients, including the maple syrup into the sausage and cook it, it ends up concentrating the syrup. Since we had too much in the meat, that was not a good thing. The end result was too sweet, and with nothing savory to contrast, the whole meal just didn't quite come together.

Never mind, though. We will try again another day.

After all, the scones were delicious!

If you want to try them for yourself, the recipes are here: Maple Oatmeal Scones and Spiced Maple Sausage Patties.

Tradition: Pantry meals

A regular occurrence at our house is pantry meals. You know, the type of meals that you throw together out of whatever you have in the pantry because you haven't gone to the grocery store in awhile and/or it is too late to make anything too complex.

The other night, this ended with pantry enchiladas.

First, you have to understand, they aren't exactly enchiladas. And, they weren't entirely from the pantry either, although if I hadn't had left-over rotisserie chicken in the 'fridge, they would have been.

Here's what you do:

Mix chicken (about 1 1/2 to 2 cups of shredded left-over chicken or one large can, drained) with a can of some sort of cream soup. I used mushroom the other night, but cream of chicken is a good option.

Add about a cup of any of the following: small can of diced green chili peppers, small can of diced tomatoes (drained), canned or frozen corn, canned or frozen green beans, etc. Really whatever vegetable-like item you have will work, including spinach (If frozen, thaw in microwave, then squeeze out as much liquid as possible first). A drained can of Ro-tel adds a nice kick.

Then, add lots of grated cheese. At least a cup and more, depending on how much other stuff you have added. Use your judgement.

Spoon the mixture into the middle of large tortillas and fold over like a taco. Put enough in there to fill it out well, but not so much that it immediately squirts out the sides.

Put the tortillas on a cookie sheet with a raised edge and bake in a 350-degree over for about 10 minutes.

Top with salsa and sour cream.

The entire process takes about 20 minutes and that recipe will serve fill about three large tortillas.

Adventure: Blintzes

These lovely concoctions are blintzes, which we made for the first time Sunday. Basically, they are crepes with a cheese-based filling inside. It reminded me of the cheese-filled pastas at cheap Italian restaurants.

In other words, tasty.

Carl and I love crepes, so when faced with the prospect of filling a crepe with cheese, we were excited.

We had a recipe, but, as usual, ended up improvising. Turns out, farmer's cheese just isn't a staple food item for us. It's a type of cottage cheese from which most of the liquid has been pressed out, according to my handy Food Lover's Companion.

Okay, we said, we're hungry. What DO we have? The answer was Neufchatel, a softer type of cream cheese. Not the same, but it has worked quite well in creamy eggs recipes before, so we tried it.

At first, as Carl blended the cheese with a couple of eggs, it looked like it could be a disaster. But, the eggs helped the mixture firm up considerably once we cooked it, and the soft cheese gave the filling a nice texture.

Meanwhile, I was making the crepes. I inherited/claimed a crepe pan from my mom minutes before it was consigned to the garage sale box several years ago. She has no idea how much I have used that pan. It's a metal pan with some sort of coating that makes it extraordinarily non-stick. It fries beautiful crepes.

Once the crepes and the filling are both cooked, you put some filling in the middle of the crepe and fold it up like a burrito. Then, you fry it again until it crisps up a bit.

We topped ours with various jams, our favorites being apricot, which brought out the tartness of the lemon zest in the filling, and a jalapeno-blueberry that Carl puts on everything.

As always, we made too many even though we cut the recipe by a third. But, not to worry, you can re-fry them again the next morning. They were just as good today topped with the strawberries we froze last spring!

Blintzes

Crepes:
3 eggs
1 3/4 c milk
1 c flour
4 tbsn melted butter
Pinch of salt

Mix with a hand-mixer until smooth.
Pour about 1/4 of a cup of batter into a medium-hot non-stick pan, making sure to tilt the pan a bit to spread the batter out as thin as possible. Cook until set (this batter doesn't bubble as much as pancake batter, so watch it closely), then flip and cook just until slightly browned (literally 20 or 30 seconds).

Filling:
1 8-oz package Neufchatel cheese
2 eggs
3 tbsn powdered sugar (or a little less)
Zest of one lemon
Cinnamon (how much do you like cinnamon? Add that much.)

Mix together, then cook like scrambled eggs, until the mixture thickens. It will look a bit like Ricotta cheese.
Spoon the mixture into the center of the crepes, and fold like a burrito.
Brush a little egg white onto the last fold, and fry in a hot buttered skillet, folded side down first, until crisp.
Top with jam, jelly, preserves or fresh fruit or whatever else you think would be good.

You can alter the recipe by adding herbs instead of the powdered sugar, lemon zest and cinnamon, to make it more savory instead of sweet.

To warm them back up, just re-fry in a buttered, non-stick skillet. I used a slightly lower temperature so as to warm the filling without burning the outside.

Tradition: Steak and baked potatoes

There's a comedian who made a point once about grilling and who gets all the credit and praise.
The woman buys the groceries, marinates the steak, preps the sides, makes sure condiments are available, pours drinks and cleans up after dinner.
The man turns on the grill and cooks the steak.
The man gets all the compliments and thanks for the meal.
While that's probably true in many households, it doesn't usually fit mine, where my husband and I cook together.
Last night, as far as the job divide is concerned, was the exception.
I pulled the steak out of the freezer yesterday morning, put a marinade together in the afternoon, so it was ready to throw on the grill.
When Carl got home, he got the grill going and cooked the steak, while I washed and baked the potatoes and steamed some broccoli.
Both jobs ended up taking about the same amount of time, but we still laughed about that old joke.
There was one big difference in the joke and what happened in our home last night though - Unlike the husband lapping up all the praise and ignoring his poor overworked wife, Carl made sure to thank me for making the rest of the meal.

Quick steak marinade:
Worcestershire sauce
Pepper
Garlic
Salt

Rub the steak with the pepper, salt and garlic on both sides, then pour Worchestershire sauce over the whole. I marinate in a zippered bag so as to easily flip the steak after about an hour.

Adventure: Century eggs

The recent egg recall due to salmonella concerns reminds me of an egg adventure I had several years ago in Germany where I experienced hundred-year eggs, otherwise known as century eggs.

No, they are not actually 100 years old.

According to The New Food Lover’s Companion, duck or chicken eggs are treated with lime, ashes and salt and then shallowly buried for 100 days.

Although they are considered a great delicacy, it wasn’t to my taste.

The shell of the duck egg was a moldy green color and the smell matched.

As the egg was peeled, revealing that the part of a boiled egg that should be white was dark green to black, the “bad egg” odor intensified. The normally yellow yolk was swamp-water green.
It tasted just as bad as that description implies.

Since the Companion indicates the outer layer of the egg should be amber colored, not black, I am going to assume that the egg I tried might not have been a prime specimen.
Plus, it definitely is different than the normal Americanized foods we eat, and the dubiousness with which I approached the egg probably colored my perception.

With a couple of years spanning between then and now, I could even be persuaded to try century eggs again.

Maybe. 

Tradition: Chicken, cabbage and cornbread

Probably one of my favorite meals is this: baked chicken, steamed cabbage and cornbread.
The meal reminds me of rainy evenings at home in Memphis with my mom and brother and I all hanging out in the kitchen, drinking a beer and watching the pots steam, as it were.
We never boiled cabbage in our house.
Instead, we steamed it with just a bit of water until it was tender enough to be cut with a fork, but not so limp it went to mush. Then, we added butter and lots of pepper and ate it fast. Cold cabbage is nobody's favorite.
We were a split family when it came to cornbread.
My daddy and I loved sweet cornbread, while Mom and my brother would rather eat the savory version.
Nowadays, I appreciate both types and keep a bag of plain cornmeal in the freezer, while the little boxes of Jiffy corn muffin mix are in the pantry.
From my great-grandmother, Sherli Dedrick, and her sister, Jane Blair, comes the baked chicken recipe that is simplicity itself.
Since it isn't a written recipe, some of the directions are not exact.

What you need:
2-4 thawed chicken breasts, with or without bones
2 eggs
1 cup flour
Cavender's All Purpose Greek Seasoning mix or salt and pepper to taste

What to do:
Preheat the oven to about 375 degrees.
Beat the eggs together in  shallow bowl large enough to fit the chicken breasts in.
Mix a tablespoon or so of Cavender's  (or salt and pepper) into the flour until evenly distributed.
Pour the flour mix onto a couple of layers of paper towel.
Dip the chicken breasts into the egg mixture, then into the flour mixture until covered. This step may be repeated if desired.
Place the chicken into a baking dish, and add water to cover the bottom of the pan. Don't add too much. You are not boiling the chicken, just keeping it moist.
Bake for 30 minutes to an hour, until chicken is cooked through.

For a different taste, add fresh rosemary to the flour mixture instead of Cavendar's and a decent crisp white wine to the pan instead of water.

For the quick version of this meal, grab a rotisserie chicken from the grocery store, throw a batch of Jiffy cornbread muffins in the oven and steam your cabbage. It's not cheating, it's expediting.

Choose your own...

Adventure or tradition?
It's a question that doesn't just strike when we are planning our next vacation or weekend jaunt.
There's a chance to venture out into the unknown at every meal - or sit back and relax knowing that the steaks will come off the grill perfect as always and the potatoes will bake just so.
I'm not one to say either way is the best - in fact, a healthy dose of both will keep your meals fun, relaxed and interesting.
Too much adventure is generally hard on the pocketbook and the stomach, I've found, but too much tradition can be boring.
Whether you are looking for a quick snack or have time for some serious cooking, grab your skillet and check back often as I post about my own endeavors in the kitchen through old recipes, family traditions, new cookbooks and experimental ventures.