Sunday, May 18, 2008 by Julie Cancio Harper.

Cauliflower has been on sale at 2 lbs. for $1 recently and I just can’t resist it. I know many people who think my love of cauliflower is bizarre and tell me so. When I ask them why, they always say that cauliflower has no taste.

Oh, but it does. The problem is that most people tend to think of it raw on a relish platter where the only flavor comes from the yogurt-dill dip in the center of the plate.

That is not what I have in mind. My maternal grandmother, Julia Urban, made a side dish she simply called “breaded cauliflower” and it was one of my favorite foods as a child.

Wedding photo of Joseph and Julia (Sinkovich) Urban.

We ate dinner (meaning lunch) at her house every Sunday, and on the Sunday nearest a family birthday we would celebrate by turning Sunday dinner into a “birthday dinner.” At a birthday dinner, not only was a homemade dessert guaranteed, but the person celebrating their birthday would get to choose an item for the menu.

You could choose anything, anything at all. My mom always wanted stuffed chicken breasts, which my grandmother deemed such a hassle that she would only make them for a birthday.

I always wanted breaded cauliflower. Every year, my grandmother would look at me quizzically and say, “Is that all?” She thought of it as just a side dish. And really, truly, it was all I wanted. I would just tell her, “You can pick the rest.”

I loved it so much that I didn’t really care what else was served. I was a glutton for the subtle creamy transition the cauliflower made as it roasted slowly in the oven. What a contrast to the buttery, crunchy toasted bread crumbs. Heaven!

I had made breaded cauliflower such an event in my mind over the years that I expected it would be involved when I got around to looking for a recipe. But it is very simple, with few ingredients and not much fuss. My grandmother never wrote this recipe down, as far as I know, but I was fortunate to get verbal instructions by phone from my mom. So we don’t have any exact measurements. No matter.

Julia Urban’s Breaded Cauliflower

Submitted by: Julie Cancio Harper

1 head fresh cauliflower (or 1 lb. frozen cauliflower)
plain bread crumbs
butter
salt & pepper to taste

1. If using fresh cauliflower, remove the leaves and cut the cauliflower into florets. Parboil in salted water for 10 minutes. You do not want the cauliflower to be fully cooked at this stage, or the final result will be too soft. It should still be firm, but not crunchy. (If using frozen, just snip the bag and pour the florets into the boiling water. Frozen cauliflower will only need about 5 minutes to parboil.)

2. In a large skillet, melt 1/2 stick of butter on low or medium-low heat. Strain the cauliflower from the boiling water, and transfer it to the skillet.

3. Add salt and pepper to taste and then turn the cauliflower in the pan until it is fully coated with butter. You can add more butter to the skillet if necessary — the bread crumbs tend to soak it up. This is all approximate and you can’t ruin it or anything, so give it your best guess. It’s going to taste great.

4. When the cauliflower is coated in butter, start with 1/2 cup of bread crumbs and sprinkle them over the cauliflower in the pan. Keep stirring and turning the cauliflower over and over until the crumbs are distributed evenly and they begin to soak up the butter.

5. Keep adding more crumbs in small amounts and stirring them in until you have the desired level of breading. Some like it light, some like a lot more crumbs. I like a lot of crumbs, so I probably use 3/4 cup or more by the time I’m satisfied.

6. Once the cauliflower is coated, pour it into a casserole and bake at 375 degrees (Fahrenheit) for 45 minutes or so. It will be hot, bubbling, and nicely browned.

Posted in recipes, weekend recipe collective, youngstown, cooking, love, nostalgia, celebration | 2 Comments »

Sunday, May 11, 2008 by Julie Cancio Harper.

For years I’ve been concerned that the many fantastic family recipes I grew up with were getting lost as the older generations aged and passed away. Life and work have taken me far afield from my home and family. I want familiar, nostalgic foods to continue providing a sense of togetherness and comfort when I cook at home. And another bonus is that it gives us an opportunity to all be in better touch in the present.

As I planned my wedding last year, I thought a lot about how families evolve and grow and how food has played such an important part in the celebrations we’ve shared. And I decided that someone should create an heirloom cookbook for all of us to enjoy. I still intend to do just that, but in the middle of planning a wedding I wasn’t able to get sufficiently organized to request recipes and follow up. (The truth is out: I am not Wonder Woman.)

I’ve not given up on the idea. To guarantee I make some good progress building my recipe collection soon, I am starting a new feature here at Learning To Eat. I’m calling it the “Weekend Recipe Collective.” Each weekend I will post one recipe received from a friend or relative. I will include a story about why the recipe is special and if there are photos available, I’ll post those as well.

We’ll start with a favorite from my father’s side of the family because it was the first ancestral recipe I received.

My grandmother, Lois Cancio, was the switchboard that kept our extended family informed of all our mutual news no matter where we all scattered to geographically. In her retirement, as I knew her, she loved to read books, write short stories and poetry, and eat and cook good food. She made homemade ice cream and cooked with wine, and from the perspective I had as a ten-year-old, that was all a person needed to do to be considered a gourmet.

In 1994, my cousin Eli and I graduated from high school and my grandmother had us over for dinner to celebrate that milestone. It was in the summer, before Eli left for the Navy and I left for college. She asked if I had any special dinner request, and since it had been my dad’s favorite, I asked for her deviled steak.

Lois Cancio’s Deviled Round Steak

Submitted by: Edward “Steve” Cancio, my dad

“This is one of my favorite recipes that my mother made. Before she moved to Virginia in the mid-1990’s, I asked her if she would write it down for me. She did, on the spot and from memory.”

1 1/2 lb. round steak
all-purpose flour
1 onion, minced
1 garlic clove, minced
3 Tbsp. oil
2 tsp. salt
1/4 tsp. pepper
dash of cayenne pepper
1 tsp. prepared mustard
1 tsp. vinegar
1/2 c. tomato sauce
1 1/2 c. hot water

Cut steak into strips across the grain. Roll in flour. Brown meat, onion and garlic in hot fat. Stir in 2 tablespoons flour and the seasonings. Add remaining ingredients. Cover and simmer for 1 hour, or until meat is tender. Serve with rice, noodles or mashed potatoes.

Serves 4.

I’m fortunate that my father asked for the recipe before my grandmother died in 1996. And I’m double-lucky to have a scan of the recipe in her own handwriting. Just click the small pics below to see the full-size recipe card, front and back.

Posted in recipes, weekend recipe collective, youngstown, cooking, celebration, enthusiasms | 5 Comments »

Wednesday, April 30, 2008 by Julie Cancio Harper.

I did not start cooking with dried beans until I moved to Los Angeles, and for the last two years I’ve been trying to make up for lost time. Until I cooked dried beans, I never knew beans could have so much flavor, intrigue and nuance.

Yes, I said beans have intrigue and nuance. They do. There are so many varieties of colorful, provocative legumes. They are satisfying. And they’ve become a staple in my diet, because I’ve discovered that not only can I eat them all the time without getting bored, but I crave them. I need more beans.

With the disrupted plumbing issues of the past two weeks, I’ve fallen out of the one-soup-per-week practice and Eric and I have suffered for it. I’m getting back into the swing now, and I’ve made a direct beeline for the beans. I want 3-bean chili.

Step one is today, and it so easy: prepare the beans for cooking tomorrow.

1. Choose the beans. When I make 3-bean chili, the bean assortment varies. Today, we’re using black beans, Great Northern beans (white), and pintos. They’re so beautiful!

2. Measure the beans. I like to have one variety that’s more prevalent (2 cups) than the other two “supporting beans” (1 cup each). The “star beans” today are black beans, so I measured out 2 cups of them, and they’re being supported by 1 cup each of white beans and pintos.

3. Sort through the beans to remove any debris like tiny rocks, then placed them in a colander in the sink. Rinse them with cold running water from the tap, then place them in a bowl. The bowl should be twice the size of the amount of dried beans.

4. Fill the bowl to the top with water, seal tightly so the water doesn’t spill out, and set the bowl in the fridge so the beans soak up the water overnight.

Why Bother Soaking Dried Beans Before Cooking?

An overnight soaking allows the beans to absorb water before they’re cooked, which results in a shorter cooking time. Plus, I feel like I’m getting away with something if I can have the same delicious chili and also keep the cost of gas for cooking as low as possible. Why pay more for the same great food?

Posted in soup, los angeles, recipes, cooking, love, enthusiasms, beans, brain food | 2 Comments »

Saturday, April 26, 2008 by Julie Cancio Harper.

Well, yesterday was our first full day with water! Hallelujah!

There are still holes in the ceiling with sawdust and wood chips everywhere. But I refuse to complain about that. The water is on!

And because it’s Saturday and there is currently no plumbing emergency, there are no plumbers on-site today and we are experiencing the blessed quiet. What relief!

My schedule is not very compatible with plumbers. I usually wake up at about 10 a.m. to start my freelance workday. (Don’t hate me — I don’t have kids yet, I know this won’t last.) For two weeks now I’ve been forcing myself to stay asleep in spite of all the racket that usually begins at 7 a.m.

Thursday morning was a bit more than I could take with a smile and an even temper, though. I was rousted from my bed just before 8 a.m. so that plumbers could saw holes in my bedroom ceiling and route pipes through. It would not have been so horrible if we had been warned ahead of time. But no one ever mentioned they’d need access to our bedroom, let alone at a time of day when I’m very actively using it.

I finally got to sleep in today. It gives me the feeling of life getting back on track, at least a little.

On the bright side, we were cheered by our neighbors across the courtyard this week. Mr. & Mrs. B brought us lunch one day: spinach pie with corn and potato kugel. Bless them twice! All I had to do was heat it in the oven in the aluminum foil it came in. I’ve been pushing hard to keep up with all of my freelance work in spite of the loud distractions and their special lunch delivery was a miracle to me.

The B’s are retired and since Eric and I work from home, we often get the chance to chat with them about what’s going on. And sometimes Mrs. B will drop by with some kitchen talk.

It’s nice to have good neighbors like this and it is one of the things I was looking for when we moved to Los Angeles — a neighborhood with people who interact with one another.

My grandparents had this type of neighborhood, and I practically grew up at their house. And ever since I finished college and moved out into the world, I have wanted to live in a place with good neighbors.

The B’s celebrated Passover last week and they attended a dinner at Mrs. B’s sister’s house. Mrs. B volunteered to bring the Potato Kugel. But she was missing one important thing: she does not have a food processor or other electric grinder to pulverize the potatoes.

Since I’m the only other cook, she was not surprised to find that out of 11 other apartments in the complex, I’m the only person with the appliance she needed.

So, she scheduled me — a month in advance! — to come over with my Kitchenaid stand mixer with food grinding attachments to grind all her potatoes and onions for the kugel. That was on Friday, April 18. It was a delight to help out and it was even better to get to sample the results. Simply delicious — and I will make it myself soon.

I was fortunate to get a copy of the recipe:

Mrs. B’s Potato Kugel

10 large baking potatoes
2 onions
6 eggs
2/3 cup matzo meal
3/4 cup vegetable oil
2 teaspoons salt
1/2 teaspoon pepper
1 teaspoon baking powder

1. Peel and slice the potatoes to fit into your food grinder chute (or, if you’re lucky, a 14-cup food processor — it’s faster). Process potatoes until ground. If they’re very watery, drain out the water using a strainer.

2. Peel and slice the onion into wedges to fit into your food grinder chute (or food processor). Process onions until ground.

3. Beat eggs in a large mixing bowl. Add all remaining ingredients, including potatoes and onions and mix well.

4. Preheat the oven to 400 degrees (Fahrenheit).

5. Liberally grease a 9″ x 13″ casserole or pan with vegetable oil and preheat the empty pan in the oven.

6. Once the pan is hot, spoon the potato kugel mixture into the hot pan. Bake a 400 degrees (Fahrenheit) for one hour until firm.

Posted in los angeles, balance, making do, recipes, cooking, attitudes, pie, sleep, love, freelance, miracle foods | 4 Comments »