I could not think of a better cook for Black History Month this month. Matthew Raiford, from coastal Georgia, has written an impressive cookbook. Bress ’n’ Nyam: Gullah Geechee Recipes from a Sixth-Generation Farmer. Gilliard Farms, the farm he runs with his sister, https://gilliardfarms.com/, is an organic farm in Brunswick, Georgia, on land bought and farmed by Raiford’s formerly enslaved great-great-great-grandfather. The family still works the farm, employing sustainable farming methods, and environment-friendly techniques.

I’ve written about Raiford before: his cooking, his family, his deep connection to the land he farms, his unique voice. Historically, African American foodways have shaped America, with little fanfare or praise for the Black cooks, for over three hundred years. The heritage of Raiford’s farm and family shows us the very beginnings of African American influence; seeds brought from Africa, ekeing out a life in a hostile world, to the tastes that are integral to present day America. As Raiford says in his book, “The legacy is in the soil.”

Raiford is the great-great-great-grandson of Jupiter Gilliard, who was born into slavery in South Carolina in 1812. After Emancipation he began to buy land. He raised squash, field peas and corn and a family. His son built a house and raised another generation of farmers and cooks. In search of education and jobs, the family dispersed and some moved north, during the Great Migration. Matthew, his parents and his younger sister moved back to the farm in the nineteen seventies.

Raiford grew up eating local, southern regional foods: soul food. It wasn’t until the nineties that African American cooks and chefs were accepted into the mainstream as talented creators of the foods of the American south. He wasn’t encouraged to pursue these unsophisticated southern foods while attending culinary school. Culturally, it wasn’t considered sophisticated. And yet, it was the hugely delicious, and unsung, part of the American diet.

Like most of us, Raiford remembers older family members cooking, bringing family recipes to life every day, while constantly adapting the recipes according to season and crop yield. Some years there might be an abundance of tomatoes, or a dearth of okra, but there was still a family to be fed. The self-sufficient cooks learned to improvise and adapt, to make do, and were inspired by necessity.

Rice was the foundation crop of the southern tidewater communities. The rice was brought to America by enslaved West Africans, who also had the knowledge and experitise to cultivate the difficult crop. First rice was raised as subsistence food, then as a cash crop, and rice and the food culture surrounding it, flourished. There were regional one-pot rice dishes, from gumbos, and jambalayas and perloos. Raimond has old family recipes for Gullah Rice, with a hearty vegetable stock and roasted vegetables; Reezy-Peezy, peas and vegetables; Cowpea Salad; Mess o’Greens; CheFarmer’s Gazpacho; and Effie’s Shrimp Creole, this week’s Food Friday.

Matthew Raiford’s mother’s recipe for shrimp creole: https://thelocalpalate.com/recipes/effies-shrimp-creole/

Raiford has plenty of recipes for seafood, crab and oysters, wild game, and hogs. I am rather drawn to some of the baking recipes that were also his grandmother’s. I love a nice simple cornbread, poundcake, or biscuits any time of the day. I also love that he remembers that his mother made meatloaf as a way to stretch beef further. His homage to his mother is also humble: Tomato Jam, that recalls the ketchup she used to “shellack” the meatloaf. Raiford uses it to dress up a lowly hamburger. Lucky hamburger!
https://georgefox.cafebonappetit.com/matthew-raiford-juneteenth-recipes/

There are many charming interviews with Raiford on YouTube. Go watch a couple and get to know him, and then go to your local independent bookstore and buy a copy of his book. You will be enchanted by its clean design and the heartwarming story of a successful Black American CheFarmer. Also: https://www.bonappetit.com/story/bress-n-nyam

“Seeds are no mere commercial product, but the embodiment of our living history.”
-Ira Wallace, Southern Exposure Seed Exchange

This past Sunday was just the perfect sort of Sunday for us. Admittedly, we are still in COVID recovery mode, so we weren’t up for exuberant adventures. No running with the bulls in Pamplona. No cross country adventures in a vintage convertible that end with a fiery crash as we hurl ourselves toward freedom. It was a cool, gray, misty day; perfect for reading the newspapers, doing mountains of laundry, and making a Sunday spaghetti sauce.

We are competing again with the ghosts from our childhoods – which will haunt us forever with their elusive, never-quite-remembered ingredients – because we were kids and didn’t pay attention to every step in the process of meal creation. We followed our running, frozen noses into the warm house, pulled off our crusty snow suits and red rubber snow boots, washed our hands at the kitchen sink, and sat down to shovel the hot, delicious food into our gaping maws. It was steaming, it was tomato-y, and it was hard to twirl the spaghetti on the fork. Besides nostalgia, there is always the mystery flavor enhancer – why does food always taste better when someone else makes it?

When I was in middle school my best friend and I would alternate houses on the weekends for sleep overs. We always made popcorn. We used identical ingredients: Jolly Time popcorn, Mazola oil, grocery store butter, and Diamond Crystal salt. We cooked on gas stoves. I always swore it tasted better at Sheila’s house, she thought it tasted better at my house. It is another ineffable mystery for the ages. Which is another reason why we can never reproduce exactly the meals from our youth.

This past Sunday I tried for something new, a recipe by Ali Slagle, who at one time, worked with our friends at Food52. I bought her new book I Dream of Dinner (so you don’t have to) for Christmas. Then, last week I heard an interview with her on the Slate Magazine Working podcast. https://slate.com/podcasts/working/2023/01/recipe-developer-ali-slagle-easy-weeknight-meals
It must have been kismet, because the New York Times then printed her recipe for Sunday Sauce. Cross your fingers that this link works: https://cooking.nytimes.com/recipes/1022972-sunday-sauce?unlocked_article_code=jmGiCoZ5baNYeOGKw8HkCn9Wl5e2-MAw3VqptpJ8GPlaEZkMSgbKACC4g3vyy3AccnIqBC5Wc4erEFIh4vgsSZ79Nv3We1hvNXHC0_HMiIaK0ndrbaDT2D17kcBDBks5i_33iXNHsqdvCIs8YILkNZOVxnQ0ga4Fjjm7fcEFLBUb-21KR8w2HhmlqjBWmAnPdiYdkD7_j296IflWG0zg1WA_dPlWrr7L79L1AZmWQ-dODGX3iYIOFF_QxP0XobBS7OOyeAzZ07TT2tRd5X33UPN2Po9T5QKCoFZvH3INVVK114ph5WjOQI6qchZua0Bs8g&smid=share-url

The complex flavors of the meats are slowly steeped into this sauce, as you stir it every half hour of so, over the course of the afternoon. The six cloves of garlic pervade the house, their magic aroma wafting back toward the bedrooms, and through the front door, welcoming the uninitiated to your warm and cosy retreat. Your house will smell like the finest, most inviting Italian trattoria. Mangia!

It took all my energy to make this sauce, but there are ways to simplify. You can leave out the pork shoulder, and just have meatballs and sausages. You can buy pre-made meatballs. If you do have a Sunday when all you have to do is laundry supervision, it is a good way to made a tasty, thoughts-of-home recipe. It takes too long simmering away on the stove to even think about doing as a weeknight meal. We also enjoyed two nights of re-heated leftovers, which is money in the bank.

Sometimes you need to simplify. All that meat in the Sunday Sauce recipe can be intimidating, and expensive. This is tasty, easy, and gives just as much pasta satisfaction: https://food52.com/recipes/13722-marcella-hazan-s-tomato-sauce-with-onion-butter

If you don’t have a leisurely Sunday stretching invitingly before you, or you just want some hot pasta, there is no shame in picking up a jar of Rao’s Marinara Sauce. It is almost as good as having dinner at someone else’s house. You will still have to wash up, but there is satisfaction to be had in scrubbing pots, and making order from the kitchen chaos. It is a good thing to do on a Sunday or a weeknight. Just add some garlic to make it your own.

Another friend believes you should always have a family-sized Stouffer’s lasagne in the freezer. It is good for pasta emergencies. We don’t judge.

“Italian cuisine, at its very best, is a math problem that doesn’t add up. A tangle of noodles, a few scraps of pork, a grating of cheese are transformed into something magical. 1+1=3: more alchemy than cooking.”
― Matt Goulding

We are still recovering from COVID here, and are staggering around the house like the un-dead – not quite human, but yearning for warmth and comfort. Never mind that outside it has barely felt like winter. Inside I am still heaping on the blankets and the duvets and trying to burrow my way to better health.

The steaming, hot therapeutic chicken soup of last week has given way to heartier stuff, ideal for the recovering patients. We are now pulling out the big guns of childhood myth and legend: Mom’s Meatloaf and Picture Perfect Shepherd’s Pie, which are practically interchangeable; Shepherd’s Pie being a magical melange of seasoned meat, mashed potatoes and peas all in one pan. Take your pick.

No one can make meatloaf exactly like the meatloaf of your childhood. It will never taste right. Nostalgia is a powerful flavor. Even if you use the correct ratio of crumbled Saltines to ground beef (my mother’s version) or the exact proportion of dry Italian breadcrumbs to ground beef and pork and veal (Mr. Sanders’s mother’s recipe), it will not taste the same. It will be childhood adjacent. Which might just do in this post-COVID pinch. The magical powers of healing might actually lie in the peas and mashed potatoes, which you can safely recreate. It is a meal which even a sad sack like you can cook, while hunched in shivering misery, wondering when your COVID headache will finally vanish.

Ina Garten has a fancy pants version of meatloaf: https://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/ina-garten/meat-loaf-recipe-1921718

Our friends at Food52 are very fancy – with the addition of mushrooms, a bell pepper and cream! This is what happens in New York City: https://food52.com/recipes/14924-meatloaf-plain-and-simple

We are boring to the point of total snoozery for most people – we always have mashed potatoes and peas with whose-ever-mother’s meatloaf we make for dinner. You might be more adventurous. In any case, enjoy simplicity and succor of the nursery food.

I can’t handle washing too many pots and pans these days, so I am opting for some Shepherd’s Pie tonight. And I am going to stick with beef, instead of the traditional ground lamb. (I have been following a shepherdess on Instagram, and cannot bear the idea of eating any of her charges. Let me wear their sweaters instead. https://www.instagram.com/theoriginalshepherdess1/)

I am all for recipes that sneak vegetables into the mixture – for me. My children were never fooled. It is too bad we haven’t figured out a way to monetize pea consumption. https://www.thewholesomedish.com/the-best-classic-shepherds-pie/

I also like including Guinness whenever possible: https://culinaryginger.com/traditional-shepherds-pie/ I don’t think this is a violation of my Dry January challenge.

There is red wine in this version – more readily available than Guinness. I will never pipe the mashed potatoes, no matter how much the recipe implies that any idiot can do it. I know I can’t. I do not have piping skills for butter, sugar and cream, let alone mashed potatoes. This is supposed to be comfort food, soothing and calming; bland and easily digested, not showcasing décorateur pastry skills. Be my guest if you’d like to show off: https://www.epicurious.com/recipes/member/views/traditional-irish-shepherds-pie-52780791

We should all enjoy the respite from winter weather, which is probably just the pause we need as we recover from COVID. Quietly revel in the mild weather, and think about the bulbs that have eluded the rapacious squirrel thieves so far. The sun is rising earlier, and setting later. There is a nice warm dinner in the oven, that will yield deelish leftovers. These are modest, homey comforts.

Mrs. Lovett : “It’s fop, / Finest in the shop. / Or we have shepherd’s pie peppered with actual shepherd on top. And I’ve just begun. Here’s the politician, so oily it’s served on a doily, have one.”
-Stephen Sondheim

The inevitable has happened. Mr. Sanders and I have caught COVID. We let our guard down after being so careful and conscientious. Naturally, I first cast aspersions on Mr. Sanders since he goes out into the wider world every day, mingling with humans. As self-appointed amateur CDC investigators, we counted back the days, and realized we must have been infected when we went to a timed and ticketed (yet still awfully crowded) traveling exhibit of paintings at a museum in the big city, where there must have been erudite virus-shedders. Thanks to all the hard work and science that Dr. Faucci has done we have been vaxxed and boosted every step of the way for the last three years, and our cases are fairly light, not that we don’t whine and complain and feel crummy. Luckily, just before the COVID boom crashed into me, I made a vat of chicken soup, which has sustained us this week. And Luke the wonder dog has been very helpful and sympathetic. He has been herding us along the road to recovery.

I prefer chicken soup with rice, while Mr. Sanders is a noodle fan. Both are easy to cook in advance, then put in the bowl just before adding the hot soup. Two happy patients, and no glue-y, congee barrel of chicken soup.

Rummage in the Pantry Chicken Soup

(not completely homemade – but if you feel a cold coming on, or you just got a positive COVID test, you had best get cracking!)

2 tablespoons butter
1/2 cup chopped onion
1/2 cup chopped celery
1/2 cup chopped carrot
2 cloves of garlic, minced
2 cups cooked chicken, in bite-sized cubes
6 cups chicken broth or stock
2 cups cooked rice
Salt and pepper
Chopped fresh parsley, strictly for decoration

1. Heat a large pot or a Dutch oven over medium heat.  Add butter.  When melted, add onion, celery, and carrot.  Sauté until onion is clear and carrots softened.  Add garlic, sauté for 1-2 minutes.
2. Add chicken.  Stir and cover.  Cook for 5 minutes.  Add chicken broth.  Simmer for 20 minutes.  Add cooked rice. Season with salt and pepper.
3. Serve with Saltines.
4. Go back to bed!

This will be much better than Lipton’s Chicken Noodle dried-powder and freeze-dried chicken bits! And certainly better than Campbell’s. Have you ever looked at those pinkish chicken nubbins in the bottom of the can? Well, you were probably feverish and anything warm was going to do the trick.

Thanks again to our friends at Food52 for their brilliant, simple and easy to follow ideas: https://food52.com/recipes/7634-chicken-stoup

Nigella has wisdom to share, with matzo balls: http://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/nigella-lawson/chicken-soup-recipe/index.html

Epicurious is an excellent resource, too, with a New York deli variation: http://www.epicurious.com/recipes/food/views/Chicken-Soup-108014

A word to the wise: you are going to need chicken soup sooner or later this winter, healthy or not. It’s cold out there! And, no, it will never taste as good as your mother’s. It will ward not off COVID or the flu, but will ease the aches and pains of your miseries. And soon, you will feel right as rain.

“There is nothing like soup. It is by nature eccentric: no two are ever alike, unless of course you get your soup in a can.”
– 
Laurie Colwin

I was having a casual, throw-away chat with the woman ahead of me in the grocery store line, the way you do, just before Christmas. She had admired my colorful reusable shopping bag, and said that once again she had left her bags in her car. I smiled and babbled something about “Good intentions…” and she nodded, vigorously, agreeing. “Yes, they will just lead you straight to H, E, double hockey sticks!” And then she walked away. Wowser. It reminded me of fourth grade, when we were tempting fate and experimenting with the power of the Almighty, or our omniscient mothers, by saying boldly, “Well, beaver’s dam!” And nothing happened. No smiting. No bolts of lightning. The earth didn’t suddenly yawn open with pits of fire. We had to learn to make our own fates. This was autonomy.

In this first week of January, our New Year’s resolutions are still novel and attractive and easy. It is the obvious time of the year to reset behaviors, atone for holiday excesses, and Mr. Sanders and I have jumped onto the health bandwagon. This will be the third year that we have practiced Dry January. So no cheap white wine for a month. Sigh. I am also trying to re-commit to walking 10,000 steps a day. Luke the wonder dog and I used to walk that and more, but lately we have both been a little ache-y, and lazy, and slacked off over the holidays. But as of January 5th we have averaged between 10,000 and 11,000 steps. Three hundred and sixty more days to go!

My doctor eyes me suspiciously when I assure her that I do indeed eat lots of fruits and vegetables every day. Which isn’t always completely true. I do get tired of limp salads, though, and need to up my greens intake. Mr. Sanders and I went to the big city, and wandered through a Trader Joe’s last weekend, and I picked up some novelties. Our normal grocery store does not offer Brussels sprouts on stalks, does yours? Crazy! I was raised when iceberg lettuce, decorated with curlicues of shaved carrots, hothouse tomatoes, and maybe a sliver of purple onion for a touch of the exotic were the norm. I don’t know what my mother, who finally came to embrace garlic, would have said about stalks of Brussels sprouts, unless Julia Child was championing them.

Luckily for me, Julia Child had quite a lot to say about Brussels sprouts. She was even hip enough that she didn’t boil them to a stinky death: https://food52.com/recipes/38991-julia-child-s-brussels-sprouts-with-braised-chestnuts And a judicious application of melted butter makes everything taste better.

Ina Garten is coming into our kitchen more often these days. Her recipe for roasted Brussels sprouts is more hands on, but the roasting makes the sprouts tasty, sweet, and nutty, and undoubtedly the olive oil is better for us. I love the touch of sea salt: https://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/ina-garten/roasted-brussels-sprouts-recipe2-1941953

More labor intensive is Alice Waters’s roasted Brussels sprouts: https://www.wnyc.org/story/recipe-alice-waterss-roasted-brussels-sprouts-sesame-seeds-and-ginger/ Not an easy weeknight side dish, but would be perfect in February, with friends in for a roast for dinner, and wine!

Mark Bittman goes for the crunch in his Brussels sprouts salad. It’s nice to have something made ahead of time, that you can just whip out of the fridge, and it’s a salad that doesn’t include insipid, vitamin-free, iceberg lettuce. I’ll be able to look my doctor in the eye, and so will you. https://markbittman.com/recipes-1/brussels-sprouts-salad

Brussels sprouts are low in calories and high in nutrients, especially fiber, Vitamin K, and Vitamin C. Just so you know, the path you are taking in this new year does not go straight to H, E, double hockey sticks: https://www.healthline.com/nutrition/benefits-of-brussels-sprouts

Happy 2023, Gentle Readers. Walk more, eat your greens, treat people with kindness.

“Good resolutions are like babies crying in church. They should be carried out immediately.”
― Charles M. Sheldon

Holiday greetings from the venerable Spy Test Kitchens! I am writing this week’s column just before gearing up for lots of holiday food prep. It is almost Christmas, and there is still a lot of cooking and baking (not to mention cleaning up) ahead of me. And there is going to be another storm of the century in a couple of days. Be prepared!

I have finished baking Christmas cookies, but there is a little more baking in my immediate future: a breakfast sausage and egg casserole, a Boston cream pie, and some dinner rolls. And that does not mention the tricky proposition of making a batch of tempting pigs-in-blankets. I will leave the agonizing cooking decisions about the Christmas feast beef tenderloin to Mr. Sanders, who is pouring over the dozens of approaches he can employ to roast the meat. I’ll blanch the asparagus, and slice the potatoes for Gratin Dauphinoise. Christmas dinner is going to be an enormous calorie encounter. And as it is going to be gelid and bitterly cold – we deserve the extra high test rocket fuel.

The perfect way to warm up during the chilly winter weather is with a steaming hot cup of hot chocolate. I was wandering through a high end boutique-y grocery store last weekend, eyeing the Christmas gift food displays, which are siren songs, luring you onto the rocks to grab your wallet and shake you down for every penny you have earned with your hard work and sweaty brow. Do not give in to the bright, shiny packaging of cellophane-wrapped Hot Cocoa Bombs, or Santa’s Sweet Shop Cocoa Wonderland Cocoa Bottle Assortments. Heavens to Betsy. 8.1 ounces of hot cocoa bombs will set you back $12.99! Trust me, it is better for your thrifty epicurean soul to make your own mixture of chocolate and cocoa powder. And since it is the holidays, maybe you’ll even make a smidge extra, and share it with your neighbor who doesn’t seem to mind that your messy pine tree has been shedding needles all over his otherwise tidy front walk for the last couple of months.

For Yourself – Simplest Hot Chocolate

1 ounce semisweet or dark chocolate – chopped
1 tablespoon unsweetened cocoa powder
1 cup milk
2 tablespoons granulated sugar
1 pinch salt

In a small saucepan, mix the chocolate, cocoa powder and half of the milk over low heat. Stir continuously until the chocolate is completely melted.
 Add the rest of the milk and the salt. Stir, until steam rises.
 Add sugar. Pour into a mug and top with mini marshmallows or whipped cream. Yumsters.

Feeling experimental? Try adding a drop of peppermint extract or cayenne. Or even a dash of Bailey’s Irish cream. It’s Christmas, after all.

Our friends at Food52 have a recipe for hot cocoa mix to share with your saintly neighbor: https://food52.com/recipes/26470-homemade-hot-cocoa-mix

Martha, who always manages to make the rest of us look drab and ordinary, has a recipe for white hot chocolate. Of course, she suggests putting it out for Santa. Well. I hope Santa still likes my gingersnaps. https://www.epicurious.com/recipes/member/views/martha-stewarts-hot-white-chocolate-1207424

Stay warm, drive carefully, and look out for your neighbors. It’s going to be slippery. Merry Christmas!

“Some days you get up and you already know that things aren’t going to go well. They’re the type of days when you should just give in, put your pajamas back on, make some hot chocolate and read comic books in bed with the covers up until the world looks more encouraging. Of course, they never let you do that.”
― Bill Watterson

May the Hanukkah lights find you together with loved ones.

It is a dark and rainy morning as I write this. It’s not yet winter, but it feels just as cold and grim as a January day. I’m planning a Hanukkah supper for Sunday night. It will be a warm and cozy meal, with a crackling roasted chicken, and the comfort of candlelight.

After the elaborate rituals of roasting a turkey for Thanksgiving, cooking a chicken seems delightfully simple. And yet, it took me years to end up here. It might be that my learning curve for the elemental is very steep – it took me about 20 years to master cooking rice, after all. And I will be serving rice for dinner, too, without a qualm. The low pressure and low stakes of home cooking are far removed from the noisy and volatile world of restaurant cooking. No one is seeking Michelin stars for this roasted chicken, but this is a meal will nourish both body and soul.

I prefer Mark Bittman’s most simple roasted chicken recipe. I will add a few sprigs of fresh rosemary, as per instructions. It grows in a pot at the bottom of the back porch steps. It has thrived there for almost five years. A warm kitchen, redolent with cooked chicken and warmed rosemary is heady and almost therapeutic.

Simplest Roast Chicken
By Mark Bittman

1 whole chicken, 3 to 4 pounds, trimmed of excess fat
3 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
A few sprigs fresh tarragon, rosemary, or thyme (optional)
5 or 6 cloves garlic, peeled (optional)
Chopped fresh herbs for garnish

1. Heat the oven to 450°F. Five minutes after turning on the oven, put a cast-iron or other heavy ovenproof skillet on a rack set low in the oven. Rub the chicken with the olive oil, sprinkle it with salt and pepper, and put the herb sprigs on it if you’re using them.
2. When both oven and pan are hot, 10 or 15 minutes later, carefully put the chicken, breast side up, in the hot skillet; if you’re using garlic, scatter it around the bird. (This is the part I like best – the inherent danger in balancing a slick, unwieldy naked bird, and hefting it into a sizzling cast iron pan with any amount of accuracy. Unnerving! Small town risk taker!) Roast, undisturbed, for 40 to 50 minutes or until an instant-read thermometer inserted in the meaty part of the thigh registers 155–165°F.
3. Tip the pan to let the juices from the bird’s cavity flow into the pan (if they are red, cook for another 5 minutes). Transfer the bird to a platter and let it rest; if you like, pour the pan juices into a clear measuring cup, then pour or spoon off some of the fat. Reheat the juices if necessary, cut the chicken into pieces, garnish, and serve with the pan juices.
https://markbittman.com/recipes-1/simplest-roast-chicken-8-ways

Jessie Ware and her feisty mother, Lennie, host a delightful food podcast, Table Manners. Lennie is very proud of her Jewish roots and her traditional Sunday roast and veg. Most weeks they cook a meal for their celebrity guests, while consuming copious amounts of wine and chattering and talking with their mouths full.
https://www.anaestheticrecoveryroom.com/post/authors-lennie-and-jessie-ware-table-manners-for-the-anaesthetic-recovery-room

Alison Roman, a cook after my own heart, has a delightful cookbook, “Nothing Fancy” with this recipe for roasting a chicken: https://www.alisoneroman.com/recipes/slow-roasted-oregano-chicken-with-buttered-tomatoes I like the jammy tomatoes and the oodles of garlic.

Julia Child, little Miss Fancy Pants, goes all out with vegetables and then massages and trusses the chicken! I have to remember to slice carrots the same way – the oblique angles make them look so attractive, and French! https://www.foodandwine.com/recipes/julias-favorite-roast-chicken

Thomas Keller’s chicken is simpler, and more crisp. Although he trusses the bird, too. I’m not sure about slathering butter or mustard on cooked chicken, but that’s me. Maybe you are more adventurous? https://www.epicurious.com/recipes/food/views/my-favorite-simple-roast-chicken-231348

If these are not options you are seeking, wander through this pretty thorough compendium of roast chicken recipes: https://www.epicurious.com/recipes-menus/roast-chicken-variations-gallery

Roasted chicken is as simple, or as complicated, as you want to make it. It is an economic meal that will also generate leftovers, sandwiches, and soup. It is practically a miracle in this cold dark season when we search for hope. Happy Hanukkah!

“Hanukkah’s miracle isn’t about the oil lasting eight days, rather it’s about the resilience of light amidst darkness.”
― Abhijit Naskar

We are ready for the next wave of holidays here at the much vaunted Spy Test Kitchens. There is plenty of butter, bags of flour, oodles of sugars (confectioner’s, cane, light brown and dark brown), molasses, spices, silver dragees, sprinkles, cinnamon red hots, candy canes, chocolate chips, and googly eyes, for emergencies. Find the parchment paper and the rolling pin. Show us the cookie cutters. Unearth the pastry bag. Cough up the cookie press. Bring on the childhood memories and the inevitable sugar rush. It’s time to get baking.

The food departments of major publications are falling all over themselves trying to be ingenious and innovative with their holiday baking. This year I am not feeling fancy. I am feeling grateful that we have avoided COVID. That it seems the world is coming back from nearly sliding over the edge into dragon territory. I’m happy to count my blessings. Instead of gilding the holidays, why don’t we simplify instead? Less glitter, more sentiment. Less glitz and more chocolate chips.

So we will not be baking fancy schmancy Madelines, or profiteroles, or croquembouche in the Spy Test Kitchens this year. We will be sticking to the tried and true Cookies of Christmases Past, the very first cookies we ever baked and decorated, standing on a wooden stool so we were tall enough to work at the kitchen table. These are the cookies which taught us how thick (or thin) to roll out the cookie dough. We learned how to use potholders and timers and spatulas. We learned how to measure sugar into Pyrex measuring cups. We also learned the importance of cleaning up molasses drips right away.

My favorite cookie is the humble gingersnap. Gingersnaps are among the most versatile of cookies. They taste deelish warm from the oven, cold in a lunch bag, and are still not too bad when they are stale. These are simple, round and wholesome.

Gingersnap Cookies:
3/4 cup unsalted butter, room temp
1/2 cup dark brown sugar (pack it into the measuring cup)
1/2 cup granulated sugar
1/4 cup molasses
1 large egg
1/2 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
2 cups all purpose flour
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 1/2 teaspoons ground cinnamon
2 teaspoons ground ginger
1/2 teaspoon ground cloves

For dusting the cookies:
1 cup granulated white sugar

Preheat the oven to 350°F. Line baking sheets with parchment paper.
Beat the butter and sugars until light and fluffy, I use an electric mixer. Add the molasses, egg, and vanilla extract and beat until well-mixed. In a separate bowl whisk together the flour, baking soda, salt, and spices. Add the flour mixture to the butter mixture and mix well. Cover the bowl with Saran Wrap and chill it in the fridge for about half an hour, until it is firm.

Fill a little bowl with the cup (or thereabouts) of granulated sugar. When the dough is nice and chilly, roll it into 1-inch balls. Then drop and roll the balls of dough in the sugar, this is the best point for expecting kid interaction and assistance. Put the dough balls on the baking sheets, and use a small flat-bottomed glass to flatten the balls. Sometimes you will need to dip the glass back into the sugar to maintain the right amount of crunchy, sugary goodness. Do not squash them too thin, or the cookies will get too dark and brittle. Bake for about 12 – 15 minutes. Cool on a wire rack.

I am also partial to fool-proof shortbread cookies. That’s because I know myself so well, and my tendency to mess with perfection. We love Scottish shortbread any time of the year, but particularly at Christmas.

Shortbread:
3/4 pound unsalted butter, at room temperature
1 cup sugar
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
3 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1/4 teaspoon salt

Preheat the oven to 350°F
Mix the butter and 1 cup of sugar together until they are just combined. Add the vanilla. In a another bowl, sift together the flour and salt, then add to the butter and sugar mixture. Mix on low speed until the dough starts to come together. Roll the dough out on a surface dusted with flour, and shape into a flat disk. Cool in the fridge for about half an hour.

Roll the dough 1/2-inch thick and cut with a pizza cutter or a knife. Prick the dough with a fork to make lovely little pointillistic designs. Place the cookies on an ungreased baking sheet and sprinkle with sugar. Bake for 20 to 25 minutes, until the edges begin to brown. Allow them to cool before gobbling.

I looked high and low for the recipe card with my mother’s Sugar Cookies before I discovered that yet another secret family recipe was firmly rooted in plagiarism. Helen Roberta Foley Dixon’s famous sugar cookies came from Irma Rombauer’s Joy of Cooking. Heavens to Betsy. Though, to be fair, Mom always added about a teaspoon of grated lemon rind to personalize her spin on this classic Christmas cookie.

Sugar Cookies:
1 cup unsalted butter, softened
2/3 cup sugar
1 large egg
1/4 teaspoon baking powder
1/8 teaspoon salt
1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla
2 1/3 cups all-purpose flour

Using an electric mixer, beat the butter and sugar until very fluffy and well blended. Add and beat in the egg, baking powder, salt, and vanilla until evenly incorporated. Stir in flour until well blended and smooth.

Divide the dough in half and shape into circles. Place each circle between large sheets of wax paper. Roll out a scant 1/4-inch thick, checking the underside frequently and smoothing out any creases. Keeping the wax paper in place, layer the rolled dough on a tray and refrigerate for 20 to 30 minutes, or until cold and slightly firm but not hard.

WHEN READY TO BAKE:
Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F. Lightly grease cookie sheets.

Working with 1 portion of dough (leave the other refrigerated), gently peel away and replace 1 sheet of the wax paper. (This will make it easier to lift the cookies from the paper later.) Peel off and discard the second layer. Using 2- or 3-inch cutters, cut out cookies. With a wide spatula, carefully transfer them from the wax paper to the cookie sheets, spacing about 1 inch apart.

Roll any dough scraps between wax paper and continue cutting out cookies until all the dough is used. If the dough becomes too warm to handle at any point, refrigerate it again briefly. If desired, very lightly sprinkle the cookies with colored sprinkles or colored decorating sugar.

Bake, 1 sheet at a time, in the upper third of the oven for 6 to 9 minutes, or until cookies are just slightly colored on top and slightly darker at the edges. Rotate sheets halfway through baking for even browning. Transfer sheets to wire racks and let cookies firm up, 1 to 2 minutes, Then transfer the cookies to wire racks and let stand until thoroughly cool.

Makes 2 1/2 to 3 1/2 dozen 2 1/2 to 3 1/2-inch cookies.
Source: Joy Of Cooking Christmas Cookies by Irma S. Rombauer, Marion Rombauer Becker and Ethan Becker

Royal Icing Using Egg Whites:
2 large egg whites
2 teaspoons fresh lemon juice
3 cups confectioners sugar, sifted
Food coloring – use to your heart’s content.

https://www.joyofbaking.com/RoyalIcing.html

Our friends at Food52 have lots of swell Christmas cookie ideas. I like a nice, cookie cutter Christmas cookie. And we have timed this just right. Amanda suggests that we bake these cookies well in advance, so they will be perfect to leave out for You Know Who and his eight tiny sidekicks: https://food52.com/recipes/19858-holiday-cut-out-cookies Don’t forget a carrot, for emergencies.

“There’s nothing sadder in this world than to awake Christmas morning and not be a child.”
–Erma Bombeck

It’s hard to believe that Thanksgiving happened over a week ago. Whoosh! All the planning and prepping, all the cooking, all the nose wiping, and all of the dishes. We’ve been back home since Saturday, still wiping noses, but only our own and not the wee ones’, marveling at the quiet, and the amount of time between meals. In the empty nest there is actually time to think. Our Thanksgiving with extended family meant crowd control and guerrilla cookery. Never make one sandwich when you could make six.

I’ve read that when you rejoin your family for holiday events, you revert to your former household role and position. I forgot that I was Chief Cook and Bottle Washer. That I ran the kitchen, and doled out food, sandwiches, snacks, advice and admonitions. I’ve gotten used to a more laissez affaire approach, and feeling like things will all come together naturally, over time. Naturally, that cannot be true when an eight-year-old and his two-year-old co-conspirator are tearing through the house. And meals are never leisurely, but necessary fuel replacement. Zero to sixty, and suddenly the tanks are empty, and the drivers are cranky. And insistent.

Luckily, I also read about making grilled cheese sandwiches on a sheet pan. We can all make a lovely, perfectly browned grilled cheese given all the time in the world. Maybe even a warm, oozy Croque Monsieur, with a side salad and a glass of crisp white wine. No. Not at Thanksgiving. Give up those fairy tale dreams. We are back to carrot sticks, Goldfish and glasses of watered-down apple juice. We are back in the trenches.

Cooking grilled cheese sandwiches on a sheet pan means you are not hovering over the stove, twirling and melting butter, constantly lifting a corner of the bread, checking the degree of browning. It’s easier to make a more consistent sandwich in a sheet pan. And what a genius it was who thought of melting butter ahead of time? It does deprive you of the cheap thrill of tossing a butter pat into a hot pan, and getting a satisfying sizzle, but it also spares you doing this over and over again, and sometimes scorching the butter with inadvertent neglect.

Sheet Pan Grilled Cheese Sandwiches

You do the math. I am planning on 6 sandwiches.
(If anyone wants seconds, I will toss them the bag of Goldfish.)

Preheat the oven to 400°F

Line a cookie sheet with parchment paper (there are arguments that you will get a crisper sandwich without the parchment, but those folks obviously don’t wash the sheet pans)

• You will need 12 pieces of bread. (I prefer Pepperidge Farm white. My Thanksgiving audience is used to Dave’s Killer Bread. Tough. I went to the grocery store.)
• 1/2 stick of melted butter
• 12 slices of cheese or 6 slices of cheese and a cup of coarsely grated cheddar

• Use a basting brush to lightly coat 1 side of 6 pieces of bread with butter. Place butter side down on the parchment paper.
• Add cheese – layer 1 slice per piece of bread, add a small handful of cheddar, top with another cheese slice
• Top with bread slices that have been brushed lightly with melted butter – butter side up

Pop the tray into the 400°F oven for about 6 to 8 minutes. Check to see the degree of brown-ness. Flip sandwiches, and wait about 5 to 7 minutes. Remove from the oven, slice on the diagonal, and serve warm. Add tomato soup, if you want to create an indelible childhood memory for Florida children who have probably never had hot soup, let alone one that is not organic.

You can add what you usually do to make the sandwiches fancier: tomato slices, bacon, grated Parmesan. While it is easy to cook two grilled cheeses at a time in a frying pan, six can become problematic.

Here is a nice variation with pimento cheese: https://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/sheet-pan-grilled-cheese-sandwiches-11768305

Yum. Mayonnaise! https://www.epicurious.com/recipes/food/views/sheet-pan-grilled-cheese-56390006

And every possible permutation: https://www.goodhousekeeping.com/food-recipes/easy/g1265/grilled-cheese-appetizers/?

“Go on, have a pasty,” said Harry, who had never had anything to share before or, indeed, anyone to share it with. It was a nice feeling, sitting there with Ron, eating their way through all Harry’s pasties, cakes, and candies (the sandwiches lay forgotten).”
― J.K. Rowling