Bring us some bread pudding

Taking a cue from England, New Englanders have traditionally enjoyed a warm pudding for Christmas. In my household, it's chocolate bread pudding. Now, it's important to note that the Pilgrims didn't celebrate Christmas and didn't have access to chocolate. But they did enjoy bread pudding. In fact, after his first wife jumped ship (some claim she fell) and drowned in the icy waters of the Atlantic, as the Mayflower was anchored off the coast of Provincetown, Gov. William Bradford married Alice Southworth, who became known for her plum pudding, according to the Plymouth Antiquarian Society's Plimoth Colony Cook Book. The pudding was made with bread, milk, eggs, molasses, raisins, currents, citron and candied cherries. Southworth came to Plymouth on the ship "Anne" in 1623.

According to Colonial Williamsburg, the first reference to chocolate in North America occurs in 1641, when the Spanish ship Nuestra Senora del Rosario del Carmen arrived in St. Augustine, Florida with crates of chocolate. In 1670, Dorothy Jones and Jane Barnard opened a public house in Boston to sell imported chocolate. By 1682, a British report detailed cocoa exports from Jamaica to Boston. And we know that early Patriots drank hot chocolate instead of tea to protest taxation without representation.

This recipe for chocolate bread pudding comes from the Gourmet Touch Cookbook by Naomi Arbit and June Turner, published in 1978. The pudding is homely but decadently delicious, especially served with real whipped cream.

Chocolate Bread Pudding

5 slices white bread, cubed

6 ounces chocolate chips

½ teaspoon cinnamon

1-1/2 cups milk

½ cup sugar

¼ cup butter

¼ teaspoon salt

2 eggs, well beaten

Lightly grease a 1-1/2-quart casserole. In a large bowl, combine bread cubes, chocolate chips and cinnamon. In a sauce pan, heat milk, sugar, butter and salt, bringing to a boil at medium heat. Remove from heat. Stir two tablespoons of hot milk mixture into beaten eggs to temper. Quickly beat eggs into remaining milk mixture. Combine milk-egg mixture with chocolate and bread cubes; stir to coat. Pour into casserole. Place casserole in a baking pan filled with a half-inch to an inch of hot water. Bake in a 350-degree oven 40 to 50 minutes. Serve warm with whipped cream, if desired. Serves six.

Cape Cod candies

Looking for an easy-to-make gift for the mail carrier, piano teacher or bus driver? Try these delicious and not-so-sinful treats. They combine toasted almonds, dried cranberries and dried blueberries enrobed in dark chocolate. I developed these clusters two summers ago for the Barnstable County Fair and won a blue ribbon in the candy division.

Cape Cod Clusters

1 cup whole almonds, toasted and coarsely chopped

¼ cup dried cranberries and ¼ cup dried blueberries

8 ounces Ghirardelli 60% cocoa bittersweet chocolate chips or any good bittersweet chocolate (60% to 70% cocoa), finely chopped

In a medium bowl combine almonds and dried fruit. Line two large baking sheets with waxed paper. Melt half of the chocolate in the top of a double boiler over water that is just simmering. Make sure the water does not reach the bottom of the top pan or bowl. If any water touches the chocolate it will seize! Stir chocolate frequently. Remove double boiler from heat. Stir in remaining chocolate until melted. Carefully remove the top pan or bowl and wipe water from bottom. Stir fruit and nut mixture into chocolate. Working quickly, spoon heaping teaspoons of the mixture onto a waxed paper-lined baking sheet, leaving about an inch between each cluster.  Replace the pan or bowl containing the chocolate mixture on top of the pan containing the warm water to keep it at the proper temperature, if you need to. Refrigerate the clusters for at least 20 minutes to cool and set. Remove and store at room temperature. Makes about two dozen clusters.

Into the strata-sphere

As a result of Thanksgiving and then a holiday party, I’ve been faced with a lot of leftover ham. One can eat only so many ham sandwiches. A favorite New England bed-and-breakfast offering because it can be assembled in advance, strata can remake that ham into a tasty meal. Strata refers to the layering of ingredients. The basis for strata is bread, cheese, eggs and milk. For filler you can use ham, sausage, mushrooms, spinach, chard or asparagus. When we kept chickens, I often made strata because of an abundance of eggs.

Ham and cheese strata

6 slices hearty white bread (day-old is fine), cubed

1 cup diced cooked ham

5 ounces sharp cheddar cheese, cubed

3 large eggs

1-1/2 cups milk

Nutmeg to taste

Put a layer of bread in a greased 1 1/2-quart casserole dish. Top with ham and then cheese. Beat the eggs with milk and a bit of nutmeg. Pour the mixture carefully over the contents of the casserole. Bake at 350 degrees for 45 minutes or until the liquid is set and the casserole is lightly browned. Let sit a few minutes before serving. Serves four.

Massachusetts muffin in miniature

Massachusetts claims the corn muffin as its official state muffin. Native Americans cultivated corn here long before the Pilgrims arrived. One of the Pilgrims’ first missteps lay in helping themselves to a stash of corn which the Nauset Indians had buried in the sands of outer Cape Cod, where the English Separatists first landed. This did nothing to foster positive relations between the two parties. In Plymouth, where the Pilgrims found more hospitable habitation, the native Wampanoags showed the English settlers how to plant corn. This staple has been appearing on New England tables in one form or another ever since. For the first course of Thanksgiving dinner, I’ll be serving lobster chowder with mini corn muffins.

Mini corn muffins

2-1/2 cups all-purpose flour

1-1/2 cups yellow corn meal

½ cup sugar

4 teaspoons baking powder

1 teaspoon salt

2 cups milk

2 eggs, lightly beaten

½ cup butter (one stick), melted and cooled

In a large bowl, combine dry ingredients. Make a well in the center. In a separate bowl, combine eggs, milk and melted butter. Add wet ingredients to the dry ingredients and mix until combined. Do not beat or over-mix.

Place paper liners in mini-muffin tins. Fill cups with batter. Bake for about 10 minutes in a 400-degree oven. Remove from oven as soon as a toothpick inserted in a muffin’s center comes out clean. Muffins will be dry if baked too long. Makes about 56 mini muffins.

A seedy snack: roasted pumpkin seeds

After you’ve scooped the seeds out of a pumpkin, rinse and roast them. They’re a great accompaniment to ale, a beverage favored by the Pilgrims.

Roasted pumpkin seeds

Pumpkin seeds

Olive oil

Salt

Rinse seeds so they are free of pumpkin pulp; drain. Spread seeds on baking sheet. Drizzle with olive oil and toss. Redistribute evenly on baking sheet. Sprinkle with sea salt. Bake in 350-degree oven for about 15 minutes.

Jonny cakes versus corn cakes

Confession: Growing up in Massachusetts, I never ate jonnycakes. That was a Rhode Island thing, like the coffee cabinet (coffee-flavored milkshake). We did eat corn cakes, or Indian slapjacks, for breakfast, however: pancakes made with cornmeal. Served with maple syrup, they were our favorite weekend breakfast treat. A recipe for Indian slapjacks can be found in the first American cookbook, American Cookery, published in 1796. It calls for one quart of milk, one pint of Indian meal, four eggs, four spoons of flour and a little salt, all beaten together and baked on a griddle.

Here is my recipe for slapjacks:

Corn cakes

1-1/4 cup all-purpose flour

¾ cup yellow cornmeal

2 tablespoons sugar

2 teaspoons baking powder

½ teaspoon salt

1 egg, lightly beaten

1 cup milk

¼ cup cooking oil

In a large bowl, combine the dry ingredients. In a separate bowl, combine the egg, milk and oil. Add the wet ingredients to the dry ingredients and mix until just combined. Do not over-mix or the pancakes will be rubbery instead of fluffy. Allow batter to stand for about five minutes to allow the cornmeal to absorb some liquid. If too thick, thin batter with more milk.

Drop batter by the half-cup onto a hot, buttered griddle. Flip when the edges begin to dry and bubbles form. Makes approximately a dozen pancakes.

Pompion and circumstance

Stewed pompion, or pumpkin, as we call it, was a Pilgrim staple. John Josselyn reports in New-England Rarities Discovered (1672) that several kinds of pumpkin grew in New England. “They are dryer than our English Pompions, and better tasted,” he writes. Women diced them and stewed them in a pot on a gentle fire all day, he notes. Then they added butter, vinegar and a spice, such as ginger. “It provokes Urin extreamly and is very windy,” he warns.

Rather than peel and dice pumpkin or other winter squash and cook it atop the stove, I slice the vegetable in half, scoop out the seeds (which, in the case of pumpkin, can be saved for later roasting) and place flesh side down in a baking pan filled with about a half-inch of water. I cover the pan with foil and bake in a 375-degree oven for about an hour. This steams the squash nicely. Drain the water from the pan and allow the squash or pumpkin to cool enough to handle. Then scoop out the flesh and season as you like.

This year’s crop of squash is very sweet. I haven’t found the need to “doctor” it. When the squash is bitter, however, I add butter and brown sugar or maple syrup. If you like spice, add nutmeg or ginger.

Here is a recipe for stewed pompion developed by food historians at Plimoth Plantation museum. Any winter squash may be substituted.

Stewed Pompion

4 cups cooked pumpkin or winter squash, such as butternut

3 tablespoons butter

2 to 3 tablespoons cider vinegar

1-2 teaspoons ground ginger

½ teaspoon salt

Cook pumpkin or squash in the manner of your choosing. Mix in remaining ingredients.

When life gives you bruised apples . . .

Soft, bruised or otherwise blemished apples become applesauce in this house. When my daughter was a baby, she wouldn’t eat applesauce from a jar. My great Aunt Mary suggested I make my own. It worked! Making applesauce is not quite as easy as opening a jar--but almost. And it tastes so much better. To this day, my daughter, now a teen-ager, will eat only homemade applesauce.

When visiting Cornwall in England last year, we stayed at a cottage a short walk from the village. We’d walk past a home where the invisible resident placed bags of home-grown green apples in the window box, asking one pound per bag. We purchased a bag one day, slipping the money through the front-door mail slot, as the sign requested, and ate this applesauce with our bangers (sausages) that night.

Applesauce

1-1/2 pounds apples

1/3 cup sugar

½ cup water

1 small cinnamon stick or ¼ teaspoon ground cinnamon

Peel and core apples. Cut into quarters. In a large saucepan, dump apples, sugar, water and cinnamon stick. Bring to a boil. Simmer, covered, for about 10 minutes, or until apples are soft. Allow to cool a bit. Remove cinnamon stick. With an immersion blender, puree mixture. Makes about 2 cups.

Thanksgiving countdown begins

The American Thanksgiving holiday is associated with those religious dissidents we call Pilgrims. We envision Jennie Brownscombe’s 1914 painting, The First Thanksgiving at Plymouth, with Separatists and Native Wampanoags gathered around an outdoor table, an elder raising his hands to the heavens in prayer. The painting depicts the harvest celebration in the early fall of 1621. This was not what the Separatists would have called a “thanksgiving.” For them, a thanksgiving was strictly a religious observance. The harvest celebration of 1621 was a time for the remaining 53 Pilgrims to mark their survival of the first winter in the New World.

America observed no annual Thanksgiving holiday until 1863, when President Abraham Lincoln, in the midst of the Civil War, declared a national day of thanksgiving for the fourth Thursday of November. So began the tradition of gathering for a feast with family and friends. When I was a child, the men spent Thanksgiving morning hunting in the woods, while the women spent those hours cooking in the kitchen. Teen-agers attended the hotly contested high school football game between rival teams. All gathered in the afternoon for the big meal.

This year, it’s my turn to host the family feast. I’ve devised the menu. We always begin with soup. This quells appetites and gives the cook leeway in the preparation of the main meal. Traditionally, New Englanders serve a seafood chowder, followed by roasted turkey with stuffing and cranberry sauce, potatoes and winter squash. My family also includes baked ham because some family members don’t like turkey. The host leaves desserts to the guests. Apple and pumpkin pies are usually among the offerings.

Thanksgiving Menu

Lobster chowder with mini-corn muffins

Roasted turkey with apple-sage stuffing, cranberry sauce and gravy

Baked maple-glazed ham

Mashed potatoes, baked winter squash, roasted Brussels sprouts

Assorted desserts

Apple cider, ale and coffee

Scalloped scallops

’tis the season for bay scallops. While they’re pricey this year at nearly $30 per pound, these sweet smaller cousins of the sea scallop are worth the splurge at least once. Yes, the price is enough to knock the wind out of a frugal Yankee, but as my husband points out, cooking these scallops at home remains less expensive than dining out at a restaurant.

Fanny Merritt Farmer's Boston Cooking School Cook Book contains a recipe for baked scallops with cracker crumbs and cream. It's called "Scalloped scallops." My recipe for baked scallops is similar, but it omits the cream:

Baked stuffed scallops

1 pound scallops

1 sleeve Ritz crackers, crushed

6 tablespoons butter, melted

Chopped fresh parsley (optional)

Preheat oven to 375 degrees. (It’s important that the oven be hot when you put seafood in to bake.) Reserve two tablespoons of the melted butter for drizzling later. Mix Ritz cracker crumbs with remaining four tablespoons butter. In a single baking dish or individual casserole dishes, place a scant layer of cracker crumbs. Arrange a single layer of scallops and top with cracker crumbs. If necessary, add another layer of scallops and top with cracker crumbs. Avoid layering scallops any more than two deep; they won’t cook properly. Drizzle with reserved melted butter. Bake for 20 to 25 minutes. Crumbs should be lightly browned and the scallops opaque. Sprinkle with parsley and serve with a wedge of lemon. Serves three.

Soup for supper: butternut and apple

My grandmother, who was born in 1916, never used the word “lunch.” Her world revolved around breakfast, dinner and supper. Growing up, I used the term “lunch,” but what we now call "dinner" was always “supper” in our house. The only “dinner” was Sunday dinner, which was served in the afternoon. I still refer to the evening meal as “supper.”

Older New Englanders favor something light, like soup, for supper. And nothing gastronomic reflects autumn in New England like this soup. It combines two ingredients readily available in the region at harvest time: butternut squash and apples. Use any sweet apples you have on hand. I used Jonagold for this recipe. My family likes this soup with a bit of body, but you can make it as thin as you like by adding more liquid.

Butternut squash and apple soup

2 tablespoons butter

1 yellow onion, thinly sliced

2 apples, peeled, cored and thinly sliced

One medium/large butternut squash (enough to yield about 4 cups)

3 cups chicken stock

1 bay leaf

2 teaspoons salt

½ cup half-and-half or light cream

Nutmeg for sprinkling (optional)

Heat oven to 375 degrees. Cut butternut squash in half lengthwise. Do not peel. Scoop out seeds. Place halves, flesh side down, in a roasting pan. Add ½-inch water to pan. Cover with aluminum foil. Bake for one hour or until squash is soft. Drain water from pan. Allow squash to sit until cool enough to handle. Scoop flesh out of peel. Set aside.

In a small stockpot, melt butter. Add onion and apples. Cook until softened. Stir in squash, chicken stock, bay leaf and salt. Bring to a boil; then reduce heat and simmer for about 40 minutes. Remove bay leaf. Using an immersion blender, puree soup in pot. Stir in cream. Sprinkle with nutmeg (optional). Serves six.

Saucy Pilgrims & Indians: cranberry sauce

The Pilgrims probably didn’t eat cranberry sauce for the first harvest celebration in 1621 because sugar was in short supply. But not much later they did indeed make cranberry sauce, according to John Josselyn’s New-Englands Rarities Discovered, published in 1672. Josselyn visited Massachusetts in 1638 and 1663. Of cranberries, he writes, “The Indians and English use them much, boyling them with Sugar for Sauce to eat with their Meat; and it is a delicate Sauce, especially for roasted Mutton: Some make Tarts with them as with Goose Berries.”

Here’s a basic recipe for whole-berry sauce:

Cranberry sauce

2 cups cranberries, picked over and rinsed well

1 cup sugar

1 cup water

Place all ingredients in a heavy saucepan and bring to a boil. If you prefer a loose sauce, boil the berries for about 10 minutes, partially covered. Cool and refrigerate. For a gelled sauce, simmer berries for about 15 minutes, uncovered. Seal sauce in a glass jar and set on counter to cool. Then place jar in refrigerator for at least 24 hours to allow sauce to gel before serving. Makes about 16 ounces.

Rocket science: arugula salad

Arugula, that peppery and oh-so-hip salad green, has been gracing tables in this country--on and off--since Pilgrim times. The Separatists knew it as “rocket,” and they used it in “sallets.” Bitter herbs were thought to purify the blood. Arugula is easy to grow in the well-drained soils here. It is always abundant in my garden, spring through frost, and its flavor seems to improve in autumn. This salad is my take on one enjoyed several years ago at The Red Pheasant Inn in Dennis, Massachusetts. That simple, but memorable, salad included mixed greens, dried cranberries, walnuts and warm goat cheese, dressed with a balsamic vinaigrette.

Rocket sallet

arugula

dried cranberries

glazed or toasted plain walnuts

goat cheese, crumbled

Assemble the above ingredients in the proportions you like. Dress with a simple vinaigrette.

Simple vinaigrette dressing

3 tablespoons apple cider vinegar

½ teaspoon salt

¼ teaspoon pepper

1 teaspoon brown mustard

6 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil

1 teaspoon or more maple syrup

Whisk together the first five ingredients. Sweeten to taste with maple syrup.

That’s johnny without the 'h'

Rhode Island is considered to be the authority on jonnycakes, little fried pancakes made from cornmeal mush. According to Yankee magazine, the Algonquin Indians taught the early English settlers how to make these. True jonnycakes, Rhode Islanders maintain, are made not from just any cornmeal but from locally ground whitecap flint cornmeal. Because the Rhode Island cornmeal isn’t readily available outside of the state, you can substitute southern-style grits. This recipe, provided by Plimoth Plantation museum, is based on a Native American recipe for Indian corn bread:

Jonnycakes

1 cup of hominy grits, uncooked

2 cups of water

Pinch of salt

2 tablespoons of butter (my addition)

½ teaspoon sugar (my addition)

½ cup cold water or milk (my preference)

Bring water, salt and butter to a rolling boil. Slowly add hominy grits and sugar. Cook until water is mostly absorbed. Stir in milk or water to make batter; add more if necessary. (The consistency should be like corn-bread dough.) Drop by the spoonful onto a hot greased cast iron griddle. Cook for a full five minutes on each side. The outside should be brown and crispy while the inside hot and fluffy. Makes about a dozen three-inch pancakes.

An apple crisp a day

It’s apple-pickin’ time! We visited a Maine orchard last weekend and picked about 40 pounds of organic McIntosh, Cortland, Jonagold and Fameuse Snow (an heirloom parent of the McIntosh). I used a mix of Cortland, Macs and Jonagold in this apple crisp. A traditional New England dessert that appeared on every school lunch menu until authorities determined that serving dessert at school is a bad thing, apple crisp is a favorite fall comfort food. It’s easy to prepare but tricky: Apple crisp can be apple soggy if you use the wrong apples or not enough flour in the topping. If you choose McIntosh apples exclusively, the result is likely to be mush because these apples cook down to almost nothing. They are great for applesauce. Cortlands are among the best for cooking because they retain their shape. Jonagolds can be dry. I find a combination of apples works well. However, if I had to pick just one for baking, it would be Cortland.

Apple crisp

Five or six large apples (about 2 pounds)

1 cup flour

½ cup old-fashioned oats

¼ cup packed brown sugar

¼ cup granulated sugar

½ teaspoon salt (cut in half if using salted butter)

¼ teaspoon cinnamon

Pinch of nutmeg

1 stick cold butter, diced

To make topping: mix flour, oats, sugars, salt and spices. Add butter and cut in with pastry cutter, two knives or fingers. (I start with a pastry cutter and end up using my hands.) Cover with plastic wrap and refrigerate.

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Using butter wrapper, grease the inside of an 8-inch-square or similar baking dish. Peel and slice apples about a quarter-inch thick. Fill baking dish, leaving some headroom for the topping. Cover apples with topping.

Bake uncovered for 40 to 45 minutes, or until topping is browned and apples are bubbly. Serve warm with vanilla ice cream or whipped cream. Serves six.

Capt. Shrimp and rice

Not long after the Pilgrims arrived in the New World in 1620, profligate English lawyer Thomas Morton settled to the north of the Plymouth Colony in a place he called "Merry-mount." Morton and the Pilgrims didn't see eye to eye. Morton viewed the Separatists as a lot of religious fundamentalists. The Pilgrims dubbed the fun-loving Morton the "Lord of Misrule" and attempted to eject him from their New English Canaan, eventually succeeding. Morton referred to Capt. Myles Standish as "Capt. Shrimp" because of his small stature and red hair.  

While this dish incorporates shrimp as its main ingredient, it has little to do with New England cooking. Before returning to my home state of Massachusetts nearly 15 years ago, I lived for four years in the Florida Panhandle, where shrimp and oysters are plentiful. On my way home from work, I would frequently stop at the fish market to buy a pound of freshly caught shrimp for $5.99. And so this pilgrim added a number of shrimp recipes to her file. This is one of my own invention. It’s a relatively quick and easy recipe, especially if you buy the shrimp already cleaned.

Bayou shrimp and rice

1 pound medium shrimp, peeled and deveined

1 tablespoon butter

1 tablespoon olive oil

1 medium onion, chopped

½ cup uncooked white rice

1 clove garlic, minced

1 bay leaf

½ teaspoon paprika

cayenne pepper or hot sauce, to taste

1 cup diced tomatoes

1 cup water or shrimp broth*

½ teaspoon salt

1 cup frozen peas (optional)

In a large skillet with a lid, melt the butter and olive oil. Add onion and sauté until softened. Add the rice and cook, stirring often, until the mixture is lightly browned. Add garlic and sauté for a minute. Add bay leaf, paprika and cayenne pepper and cook for a minute. Then add tomatoes, water or broth and salt. Bring to a simmer and then add shrimp and frozen peas. Reduce heat to low, cover and cook for 20 minutes or until liquid is absorbed and rice is tender. Serves four.

*If not in a hurry, I’ll make shrimp broth to use in this dish. It adds more depth of flavor. When cleaning the shrimp, I reserve the shells for the broth. This recipe makes about four cups, so you’ll have some to freeze.

Shrimp broth

shrimp shells

one small whole onion

one garlic clove, lightly crushed

a sprig or two of parsley

Place all ingredients in a stock pot and cover with water. Bring to a boil; then lower the heat and simmer, lid tilted, for about 30 minutes. Strain.

Cape scrod

Local waters were teeming with cod when the Pilgrims arrived in 1620. But because they weren’t trained as fishermen, these Englishmen had a hard time catching them, according to historians at Plimoth Plantation. Gradually the early colonists became better at fishing, however, and seafood became a local staple.

In just about every coastal New England restaurant featuring traditional fare, you’ll find “baked stuffed” fish on the menu. It’s basically cod, haddock or scrod (young cod or haddock) baked with crushed Ritz cracker crumbs and butter. Sometimes, a splash of sherry and hint of nutmeg are added. Scallops, shrimp and lobster are also cooked in this manner--with delicious results.

Baked stuffed fish

1-1/2 pounds of cod, haddock or scrod

1 sleeve Ritz cracker crumbs

6 Tablespoons butter, melted

Place the Ritz crackers in a plastic bag or on a sheet of waxed paper and crush with a rolling pin. Melt butter in saucepan. Reserve about two tablespoons of melted butter. Add Ritz cracker crumbs to melted butter and stir until crumbs are thoroughly coated. Butter the bottom of a glass baking dish. Place fish in dish. Top with buttered crumbs. Drizzle with remaining butter. Bake in 375-degree oven for about 20 minutes, or until fish is opaque and flakes. Serves three to four.

Garden-ends vegetable soup

This hearty soup consists of vegetables harvested from the garden at the end of the growing season. It’s a minestrone, really, containing tomatoes, green beans, potatoes, herbs--whatever vegetables are available. Because it contains tomatoes, this soup has no roots in Early American cooking because, back then, tomatoes were believed to be poisonous. Tomatoes weren’t eaten in North America until the early 1800s, after Europeans had proven the fruit was indeed safe to eat.

The process for making this soup is loose. Like the cook in the "Stone Soup" fable, you can toss ingredients in the pot as you think of them, chopping as you go, and in the end, the soup turns out fine. The bacon adds extra flavor, but it can be omitted; just substitute olive oil for the bacon fat. The simmering time at the end ensures that the potatoes will be tender and the flavors melded.

Garden-ends soup

2 strips bacon, chopped

1 medium onion, chopped

1 rib celery, diced

1 carrot, peeled and chopped

1 clove garlic, minced

1-1/2 to 2 pounds tomatoes, peeled and chopped

4 cups chicken stock

1 teaspoon salt

small rind of parmesan cheese (optional)

1 large Yukon gold or red bliss potato, diced

6 ounces green beans, chopped

1 small bunch Swiss chard, torn into bite-sized pieces

¼ cup chopped basil

¼ cup chopped parsley

In a stock pot, try out bacon (render fat until bacon is crispy). Drain off all but a tablespoon of bacon fat. Add onions, celery and carrot; sauté until soft. Add garlic and sauté for a minute or two. Add tomatoes, chicken stock, salt and parmesan rind. Bring to a boil and then add potato. Cook for several minutes more and then add green beans, Swiss chard, basil and parsley. Return to a boil and then reduce heat. Simmer, partially covered, for about 20 minutes. Serves four to six.

Cranberry slump

A slump is like clafoutis (cla-foo-TEE), a French country dessert with fruit on the bottom and a pancake batter-like crust on the top. It is often made with apples or pears. This easy recipe highlights one of North America’s native fruits, the cranberry. The Wampanoag natives, who helped the Pilgrims through their first difficult year in the New World, made liberal use of this berry, which is rich in vitamin C, antioxidants and bacteria-fighting proanthocyanidins. Harvested annually from mid-September through early November, these ruby-red orbs keep for a month or more in the refrigerator. They freeze well, too; just be sure the berries are dry when you freeze them.

This dessert recipe calls for a full cup of sugar to offset the extreme tartness of the berries. If you wish to reduce the amount of sugar, use equal amounts of sliced apples and whole cranberries—1 cup each. Reduce the sugar to ¾ cup, using ¼ cup to sprinkle over the fruit and the remaining ½ cup for the batter. Chopped walnuts or pecans may be substituted for the sliced almonds. If you opt for walnuts or pecans, flavor the batter with vanilla extract instead of almond extract. This dessert is best served warm with a scoop of vanilla ice cream or generous dollop of freshly whipped cream.

Cranberry slump

2 cups fresh cranberries, rinsed and drained

1 cup sugar, divided

½ cup sliced almonds

1 egg

½ cup flour

¼ cup butter, melted

½ teaspoon almond extract

1. Preheat oven to 325 degrees F. Grease a 9-inch pie plate.

2. Place cranberries in pie plate. Sprinkle with ½ cup sugar and nuts.

3. Beat egg well; gradually add remaining ½ cup sugar, beating until foamy. Add flour, melted butter and almond extract. Beat until thoroughly blended. Spread over berries.

4. Bake for 45 minutes or until cranberries are bubbly and crust is golden brown.

Satisfying stew

A New England staple, beef stew is an economical dish, using an inferior cut of meat that’s slowly cooked until it’s tender and flavorful. On a chilly day, beef stew really satisfies. Traditionally, New England beef stew requires dredging the meat in flour before browning. The flour thickens the stew. I am not a fan of meat in wallpaper paste, so I eliminate the flour.

This recipe can be made in a slow cooker, if you prefer. Brown the meat, and cook the onions and carrots. Place them in the slow cooker and add the remaining ingredients. Cook on “low” for six to eight hours. I find the potatoes become desiccated in the slow cooker, so I’ll serve mashed potatoes on the side instead.

Beef stew

2 pounds chuck, cut in chunks

2 tablespoons cooking oil

1 medium onion, chopped

4 carrots, chopped

½ teaspoon dried thyme

¼ teaspoon freshly ground pepper

1 tablespoon brown sugar

1 tablespoon cider vinegar

A few drops of Worcestershire sauce

1 bay leaf

14-ounce can beef broth

3 to 4 medium potatoes, cut in chunks

In a large pot, sear meat in oil in small batches. Remove to a bowl or dish. Add to the pan chopped onion and the equivalent of one chopped carrot. Cook until vegetables soften, loosening brown bits from bottom of pan. Add thyme and cook for a minute or two. Return browned meat and juices to pan; sprinkle with pepper. Add brown sugar, cider vinegar, Worcestershire sauce and bay leaf. Add beef broth just to cover meat. Bring to a boil; then reduce heat and simmer for at least two hours, until meat is tender. Add potatoes and remaining carrots. Simmer for another 20 minutes or so, until potatoes and carrots are cooked through. Serves four.

Grape day in the morning: wild grape jelly

The heady scent of wild grapes permeates the late summer air. This sends my foraging instincts into high gear. It’s the New England way: If the good Lord puts food in front of you, take it and be grateful. Or, as Yankees are fond of saying, “You can’t beat free.” You can certainly eat these grapes out of hand, but they are not bursts of sweetness. These distant kin to commercially sold grapes have a wine-like taste. I like to make jelly with them.

Making jelly from these grapes offers a less tricky introduction to canning because 1) the grapes contain enough natural pectin that you don’t need to add store-bought pectin, and 2) the processing part takes only five minutes in boiling water. Yet, be forewarned, making preserves is a drawn-out business, one that should be saved for when you have a mind to play in the kitchen for about four hours. It requires a relaxed attitude and abundant patience. It will certainly give you a deep appreciation for your ancestors who canned routinely in the summer and fall to prepare for the long winter.

Wild grape jelly

6 8-ounce canning jars

4 pounds wild grapes

2 cups water

4 cups sugar

Wash jars, lids and bands in hot, soapy water. Rinse well. Sterilize jars by boiling them for 10 minutes. Leave them in the boiling water while you make the jelly. Remove just before you are ready to fill. Do not boil lids; just dip them in the hot water for a few minutes. Place on a clean towel.

Pick over the grapes, remove stems and wash before putting them in a large pot. Add water and heat to the boiling point. Mash the grapes and boil for 30 minutes, covered. Strain through a coarse strainer or cheese cloth. Measure liquid, return to pot and boil 5 minutes more, uncovered. Add 2/3 cup of sugar for every cup of juice. Stir until sugar is dissolved; then boil rapidly, uncovered, to jelly stage. The mixture is at jelly stage when it thickly coats the spoon and two drops hang from it. Skim, fill jars, wipe edges clean, seal, cool, label and store. It’s important to make sure the rims of the jars are clean before you seal them because food residue can affect the seal.

As the jars cool, you should hear the lids popping. This is a good sign. It means you have created a tight seal. Properly sealed jars can be stored at room temperature for up to a year. If the jars are not sealed tightly, bacteria can grow, spoiling the food. Test the jars after they have cooled completely by pressing a finger on the lid. If the lid buckles, the jar isn’t sealed properly, and you cannot safely store the jelly for long. Refrigerate and eat the jelly within a month.

Cereal for dessert: Grape-nuts pudding

In Britain, the word “pudding” is used to refer to the dessert course of a meal. The British have a long tradition of puddings, both sweet and savory. New Englanders love their pudding, too. Did you know the Pilgrims had no dessert course, per se? All dishes, sweet and savory, were placed on the table at once. That’s right: In the early Plymouth colony, you could eat dessert first!

Grape-nut pudding, made with Post Grape-nuts wheat and barley cereal, is a favorite regional comfort food. Some bake it in the oven, but my mother makes it in a double boiler on the stovetop. Here’s her recipe:

Grape-nut pudding

Two eggs, slightly beaten

1/3 cup sugar (brown or white)

2/3 cup Grape-nuts

2 cups milk

1 teaspoon vanilla

In the top of a double boiler, off the heat, mix eggs, sugar and Grape-nuts. Add milk. Cook for 35 to 45 minutes, stirring gently on occasion so the cereal won’t sink to the bottom. When thickened, remove the pudding from double boiler and gently stir in 1 teaspoon vanilla. Cool and chill. Serve with whipped cream, if desired. Serves four.

Baked in a potpie: chicken or turkey

Advisory: this recipe is neither quick nor easy. However, potpies are so much a part of the New England vernacular that I felt I should include a recipe for one. In fact, immigrants who came to Plymouth on later boats often referred to the resident Yankees as “pie eaters.” It is believed that the Pilgrims made pies, both savory and sweet.

New Englanders make potpies using meat or seafood. Because I boiled a whole chicken this week to make chicken stock, I used the white meat to make curried chicken salad and the dark meat to make potpies. Leftover turkey may be substituted. You can simplify this recipe by using store-bought pie crust and a 10-ounce combined package of frozen peas and carrots. While a bit labor-intensive, this is the kind of food that satisfies on a cold, blustery day.

Chicken potpie

Pastry for double-crust pie (recipe below)

1 small package of frozen peas

1 medium onion, chopped

3 carrots, peeled and diced

¼ cup (a half-stick) butter

1/3 cup all-purpose flour

½ teaspoon salt

½ teaspoon dried sage, marjoram or thyme, crushed

1/8 teaspoon pepper

2 cups chicken broth

¾ cup milk

3 cups cubed chicken (can also use turkey)

¼ cup snipped fresh parsley

In a large pot, cook onion and carrots in two tablespoons of butter until vegetables are tender. Add dried herb of choice, salt and pepper; sauté a minute or two. Add remaining butter. When butter is melted, add flour and cook two to three minutes. Add chicken broth and milk. Cook and stir until thickened and bubbly. Add frozen peas, meat and parsley. Cook until bubbly.

Pour mixture into four to six individual casseroles. Roll out pastry. Cut circles to fit casseroles. Place pastry over dishes, pressing gently over edges. Cut slits in top for steam to escape. Brush tops with egg wash, milk or cream, if desired. Bake in a 450-degree oven for 15 to 20 minutes, or until pastry is golden brown. Makes four to six servings.

Basic pastry

1-1/2 cups flour

½ cup butter, cubed (or combination of lard/shortening and butter)

½ teaspoon salt

Ice water (about a half-cup)

Add salt to the flour. Work in butter with finger tips, pastry cutter or two knives until mixture resembles coarse, pea-size crumbs. Gradually moisten with ice water until dough holds together. Form into a disc, wrap in wax paper or plastic and refrigerate for at least 30 minutes.

Curry favor with chicken salad

Sea captains introduced curry to America in the 1800s, according to historical documents. Chicken country captain is an example of an early dish employing this Asian spice. Cape Cod and other coastal New England locations have a rich history of merchant seafarers. Cape Cod's Old King's Highway (Route 6A) is lined with sea captains' homes. 

I grew up eating the traditional chicken salad, made with celery, mayonnaise, salt and pepper, and I loved it. But in the 1980s, when all the upscale food stores were carrying it, curried chicken salad became my preference. This is one easy way to use the meat from the chicken used to make stock.

Curried chicken salad

2 skinless, boneless chicken breast halves, cooked

¼ cup toasted slivered almonds, or whole walnuts or cashews

Pinch of salt

2 tablespoons or more of low-fat plain yogurt or mayonnaise

1 small apple, peeled, cored and diced, or ¼ cup dried cranberries or raisins

¼ cup diced celery

2 teaspoons fresh lemon juice

1 teaspoon curry powder

Chopped fresh parsley (optional)

Dice cooked chicken breast and place in medium bowl. Add remaining ingredients and mix well. This can be served immediately but tastes best when refrigerated for two hours, allowing flavors to meld. Serves four.

A chicken in every pot

Historians believe the Pilgrims brought animals with them aboard the Mayflower, most likely goats, pigs and chickens. I haven't found anything in the historical record to indicate that the Separatists made chicken soup, but the idea isn't farfetched. Boiling a chicken is easy, and the resulting broth is appetizing.

Most recipes make this endeavor harder than it has to be. Here’s my simple family recipe, passed down through generations. Usually I use chicken necks and/or backs, if I can get them at the store. Often I will accumulate these parts in the freezer until I have enough to make stock. This recipe can be made with turkey parts or the leftover carcass of a roasted turkey, as well. The flavor is in the bones.

Unless I’m planning to use the meat for another dish, such as potpie or chicken salad, I consider it wasteful to use a whole chicken. However, because the grocery store offered a post-hurricane special on whole chickens at 42 cents per pound, I bought two. One I've stored in the freezer to roast at a later date; the other I’ll use to make chicken stock.

Chicken stock

1 rib celery, washed (top can be left intact)

1 carrot, scrubbed, top removed (peeled if you prefer)

1 medium onion (no need to peel if clean)

1 bay leaf

1 tablespoon salt

1 whole chicken or 1 package chicken necks and/or backs

Place all ingredients in a 6-quart stock pot. Fill pot 2/3 full of water. Bring to a boil. Reduce to a simmer. After about 30 minutes, skim any scum that has risen to the top. Continue to simmer, half covered (lid tilted), for about two hours. The trick to good stock is long, slow simmering. When done, remove the chicken necks and backs, vegetables and bay leaf; discard. Strain the stock and serve or store in containers in refrigerator for up to three days or freezer for several months.

If you’ve used a whole chicken, refrigerate the meat for use in other dishes, such as chicken salad, chicken potpie, Turkish hash or other. Contrary to what some cooks claim, the boiled meat is delicately flavored and moist. Any self-respecting Yankee would deem it a shameful waste to toss the cooked chicken in the trash.