Mrs. Buckley's Stuffing

     Page One Hundred Sixty-Three.
     About 18,500 or 18,501 years ago, I lived across the street from the Buckleys. This was in Ireland. It wasn't called Ireland at the time, of course. It was called "Honolulu" by its contemporary inhabitants in the native language. But it was what we call Ireland today, none-the-less. It was an idyllic neighborhood. Almost everybody was charming and redheaded, the hills were a vibrant green and everybody wore beautiful sweaters.
     The only "less than fuzzy" element on the entire street were a family of druids who lived down the way. They drank excessively and rented out their upstairs apartment to a bunch of frat boys who were always having wild parties. But, except for that one house, it really was just a lovely area.

     So one evening I was out raking leaves and Mrs. Buckley walked over and invited me to join her family for dinner. Never one to turn down free food, I accepted. She'd made a very good meal that I can still taste today. It was spiral sliced emu; stuffing; quinoa with morel mushrooms; falafel; creamed jicama; fried plantains; pad thai and rolls with butter. Then, for dessert she made a Chocolate Decadent Cake. The entire meal really was great.
     What made the greatest impression on me at the time was the stuffing. My family was Orthodox Jewish. So, if my mother was required to have a stuffing-type item on the table for a given holiday, it was matzo farfel. I'll talk about my mother's matzo farfel more in another blog, but what you need to know for the sake of this blog was that it was awful. Basically, it was dead, dry, flavorless chunks of Soylent Green. So when Mrs. Buckley explained that this stuffing was gentile-style food, I just quivered with glee. It was great!
     I innocently asked her how to make it. She graciously responded and I've been making a similar version ever since. Here 'tis. Fry up an entire log of Italian seasoned sausage in a very large pot or stock pot 'till brown. (I think the log will be a pound. But you'll see it in the store.) Remove sausage to a bowl. To the sausage drippings, add 1 large finely chopped onion, 2 finely diced celery ribs and 1 finely chopped red pepper. Saute 'till soft. Add a stick of butter and let melt slowly. Replace cooked sausage and stir. Pour in 2 cups of chicken broth and heat 'till warm. Dump in a large bag (12-16 oz.) of seasoned bread croutons or stuffing mix. Stir thoroughly. Dump into a couple of casseroles and bake, 325 for 20-25 minutes or so. Eat and enjoy. Serves a small army- maybe 10 or 12.

Tomato-Pepperoni Soup

     Page One Hundred Thirty-Three.
     So, I'm still dog-sitting Archie the dog. One week down, two to go. The tomatoes in the backyard are taking over the city and I'm trying to eat them or give them away as fast as I can, but there are just sooooo many of them I finally had to get serious.
     I picked all the ripe Roma (plum) tomatoes and cooked them up, or cooked them down, however you want to phrase it.
     I sauteed some carrots, onions, celery, garlic, parsnips and red pepper. Simultaneously, I parboiled and peeled the tomatoes. I then added the peeled tomatoes to the vegetables, then put in some some pepper, basil, oregano, sage, thyme, bay leaf, anchovy pates, beef concentrate and sliced pepperoni. That all cooked for a long time. Then, I removed all the vegetables, leaving in the pepperoni and viola! tomato-pepperoni soup. It was just about one of the best things I've ever eaten. It's basically just pepperoni pizza minus the dough and cheese. In fact, if eaten with some cheesy focaccia bread, the mouth experience would probably be quite similar to pizza. But this was substantially reduced fat. And it was just too tasty to be true.

Frech Bread Pizzas

     Page Ninety-Three.
     I'll tell you what ALWAYS sells when trying to feed hungry teenaged boys. Fresh French Bread pizza. And they're just about the easiest things to make, too.
     Go to your favorite bakery or grocery store and purchase a couple of fresh, full-sized loaves of French bread. Also, buy a couple of cans of your preferred pizza sauce, some mozzarella cheese and whatever toppings your kids like: pepperoni, sausage, onions, mushrooms, olives, what have you. Bring the whole mess home and put everything out on your counter.
     Slice the loaves in half and the top half you'll have to level off. So, put the top half on the counter, crust side down and look to see what you'll have to carefully trim off so it sits evenly. Once that's done, just assemble everything as you like. If you go in for onions or sausage, you'll have to cook those things up. But that notwithstanding, put on the sauce, then cheese, then everything else. Place on a cookie sheet and then pop in the preheated 425 degree oven for about 13 minutes.* Viola! These things are so good it's just crazy. They're surprisingly economical, too.
     There's a very famous brand of frozen French Bread Pizza. Those are perfectly okay for a teenaged boy... until he tastes the real thing. Be prepared, once he tastes the ones that you make fresh, he'll never go back to frozen. You'll have to make these things a lot. But his birthday gift to you will be bigger. He'll still be a bi-polar teenaged boy, but he'll occasionally be a little nicer to you, when he wants these things.
    



*Trick #1: Assemble pizzas on the cookie sheet so you don't have to move them around too much prior to baking.
 Trick #2: Don't overload stuff on the bread. It'll just fall off. Use just a little of this and just a little of that. Don't worry, it'll add up.

Gomorran Stew

     Page Sixty-Seven.
     Some time ago, I was traveling in the Middle-East. I'd stayed in Gomorrah for a couple of days and then I went on to Sodom. As those two cities were known for not being hospitable to strangers, I was a bit nervous about visiting them. But like so much gossip and hearsay, my experiences were nowhere near as bad as I was anticipating. In fact, I did actually make some friends with whom I stayed in contact for many years following.
     I was staying in hostels on my trip, just to save money, and one night in Sodom, my roommate was Florence Nightingale. We talked until all hours. Then, on another night, I had two roommates, Thomas Jefferson and Angela Davis, who were traveling companions. (I was really surprised by how much they argued, considering the fact that they chose to travel together.) While staying in Gomorrah one night I met Rudolph Valentino. He wasn't staying in my room but he was in another room on my floor and I met him downstairs in the lobby. (Everybody was fawning all over him but he didn't seem to mind.)
     The highlight of the trip though, was one evening when I was out dancing at a disco in Gomorrah. I happened to meet a young women named Pipsi who was in University to become a social worker. She'd just taken her finals earlier that day and was out blowing off steam. We got to talking and she mentioned that she wanted to work with disturbed youth. I told her of my experiences as a live-in nanny and we instantly had much in common. (Though none of the kids I've even nannied were certifiably "disturbed", working so closely with youth is a distinction, none-the-less.) After the disco closed we went to this little place around the corner. It was really a hole-in-the-wall, but it was the only place that was open, so in we went.
     Pipsi ordered some taco-style pizza and I got some stew. Well, I have to tell you this was some of the best stew I've ever had in my life. I simply inhaled the stuff. It was too good for words. I just couldn't figure out what it was about the stuff, so I asked the waiter. He told me that this stew was one of the house's signature dishes and it was really very well known. In fact, every time Genghis Khan came to town he ordered it for his entire army. The stew was served with hot, seeded rye bread and a very good side salad which was unusual in that it was topped with cold, cooked green beans, peas, asparagus and feta cheese.
     But, really, I couldn't get over how good the stew was. After much badgering, the waiter finally gave me the secret. (The waiter knew 'cause his father was the chef/owner of the joint.) Here it is:
     Fry up a few pieces of bacon. Then remove the bacon to a separate dish and add one whole sliced onion to the bacon fat and saute until glossy. (If there isn't enough bacon fat to comfortably saute, add a little butter to the pan.) While the onions are cooking, chop the bacon into small pieces. When the onion is done, add it along with the bacon to a typical stew recipe. Then to the stew add one can of beer, one tablespoon of brown sugar and a few shakes of caraway seeds. Cook this stew for a normal amount of time, until the beef is tender. (If your stew recipe calls for onions omit them, because of the cooked onions you've just added. Also, omit some of the cooking liquid from your recipe 'cause of the 12 ounces of beer in the Gomorran recipe.)
     That's it. I'm telling you, this combination of stuff is deadly good.
     I kept in touch with Pipsi for a while, but she eventually married and moved to Machu Picchu to work with Incan youth. Just recently we friended each other on Facebook and she wants me to come for a visit. Maybe one of these days...