6.30.2013

Soda Fountains, Boiled Ham, & Sanka













"Tavia Tindall"  was here 2013

Well, if it's good enough for Brooke Shields, then it's good enough for me.  The Wilton Candy Kitchen is the almost mythical soda fountain my cousins from Texas speak of every time they see me.  Fred and Aleta come up every year from Port Arthur, Tx to visit our elderly aunts and to take them for drives around the Illinois/Iowa countryside.  Visiting the soda fountain has become a regular pilgrimage in their roaming. They can never seem to figure out why I haven't experienced "the oldest ongoing ice cream parlor/soda fountain/confectionary in the world" that's 30 min. down the road from where I live.

Hoping to find this beloved treasure, I motored down historic Highway 6 to the town of Wilton, IA, pop. 2,807. If you get lost in Wilton or can't find the soda fountain, then I have no hope for you and maybe you shouldn't be driving.  It's run by George and Thelma Nopoulos and has been in the Nopoulos family since 1910, but it was established in 1860. More facts and history are available here.  

George is 93 and Thelma is in her 80s.  Thelma told me they've been married for 63 years and that she and George met when they were working behind the soda fountain.  She is adamant they be photographed together as a symbol of their love and devotion.  Thelma didn't want anyone taking individual photographs of herself or George. They reminded me of the elder couples in the love story vignettes from the movie When Harry Met Sally.

George and Thelma, along with the atmosphere, are part of the experience.  The other part of course is the food.  It's rare to see a "boiled ham & cheese" sandwich listed on a menu and equally rare to see Sanka listed as a beverage.  I ordered both.  Thelma looked at me with confusion when I said "Sanka."  
Thelma: What did you say dear?  Me: Sanka, I'd like some Sanka to drink.  Thelma: We haven't had Sanka on the menu in years.  Me:  Oh, okay.  
George and Thelma probably don't look at the menu much when the only real change in 60 years has been Sanka.  Why in the Sam Hill was I trying to order Sanka you ask?  Sometimes I prefer novelty over taste. Also, I had envisioned the possibility of using the Sanka as a sort of au jus for the boiled ham & cheese.  I ordered a chocolate malt instead.

When Thelma isn't looking, George likes to grab a spoon and stick it into the ice cream vats behind the counter for a taste.  He winked at me and said "quality control."  No worries, I'm pretty sure he gets a clean spoon each time.  A customer sitting next to me ordered one of the Greek Super Sundaes, which are Greek because George plants a Greek toothpick flag along with an American toothpick flag onto the top of the sundae.  Yes, that's right, both George and Thelma are descendants of proud Greek families.  A Greek flag sticking out of your ice cream is pretty novel so that's what I'll order next time.  My cousins are right. George, Thelma, and their ice cream are worth the trip.  

It's been a challenge to figure out when to use what camera depending on the situation (I have two choices).  All of these pics were taken with my smart phone, but some turned out blurry.  Oopsie.  Stay tuned for more soda fountain action.  July is National Ice Cream Month.


6.27.2013

Rhubarb Pudding: a creamy cake




Rhubarb love fest 2013 continues this week.  If you know my family, then it's not a surprise I'm trying to extend the rhubarb season as much as possible.  When my grandma died ten years ago, most of her eulogy was about rhubarb.  Grandma Harriet's love for this red celery-like fruit/veggie surpassed anyone else's claim of affection for the red stalk.  In other words, my grandma loved rhubarb more than yours.  As a rhubarb ambassador, she desperately wanted the world to taste rhubarb and love it, and set out to grow it, and promote it everywhere she went.  For example, she was known to do things like invite perfect strangers at Mr. B's Grocery to stop by her house for free rhubarb, give them directions, and then have it bagged and ready for them as soon as they pulled up.  Not really an exaggeration.  

I'm not sure what drove her to be so outgoing where rhubarb was concerned, but I can only guess she couldn't stand to see it wasted.  She loved the taste and believed in it.  Watching her advocate for one of the most celebrated/despised foods to come out of the ground, elevated it to superstar status in my mind.  It's all I think about when Spring rolls around.  Some people absolutely hate rhubarb and scrunch their face up at the mere mention.  I guess they can't stand the jolt of the tartness, but it gives me a food high.  The tart burst of rhubarb is perfect for cloaking in something like the sweetness of cream.  Here's a recipe that does it nicely and I know Grandma Harriet would've spooned the dish over this one.  It's also adapted from the Town Crier Recipe Book featured in the post about Spring Fling Pie.

Rhubarb Pudding: a creamy cake
(Obviously not a creamy pudding to eat with a spoon, but rather a creamy cake, topped with fresh cream.)                                   


2 cups diced rhubarb            

1 cup sour cream

1 cup sugar

1 egg beaten

1 1/2 cups flour 

1/2 tsp. baking soda

fresh whipped cream



Preheat your oven to 400 degrees.  Grease an 8 x 8 baking pan or dish.  In a medium bowl, combine the sour cream, sugar, and the beaten egg.  Add the rhubarb and stir it in.  Measure the flour and baking soda into a sifter and sift over a separate bowl.  Add the sifted flour and baking soda to the wet mixture.  Stir until you can't see any more dry flour.  

Pour the mixture into your greased baking pan and bake for about 30 min.  Insert a toothpick into the middle, if it comes out clean you're good to go.  The top will be a nice golden brown.

Cut into squares and serve warm with fresh whipped cream.


Enjoy.







6.25.2013

An Iowa Farm in Pictures








Spring Fling Pie (strawberry & rhubarb mate with pineapple & banana)




I realize writing about a spring pie four days into the summer season is nothing short of seasonal sacrilege, but the spring fruit is still here and I’m a rhubarb, strawberry junkie.  The beauty of the Spring Fling Pie is it invites some tropical friends to join the Midwest party and all of a sudden reds and yellows are having a seasonal tryst in your pie plate.  Banana, pineapple, strawberry, and rhubarb make wonderful bedfellows.

This is a pie I made and took to my friend Catharine's farm for a potluck gathering to celebrate summer, animals, and life in general.  It was a hot day, with temps in the 90s, so a fruit pie was the way to go because it can stand up to the heat.  And it did stand up, until everyone ate it.  It turns out having a Spring Fling at a summer party was acceptable.  


The idea for this pie came from a 1938 cookbook titled Town Crier Recipe Book: 300 Lucky Low Cost Prize Winning Recipes.  The cookbook endorsed Town Crier Family Flour made by The Midland Flour Milling Co. of Kansas City, Missouri.  I haven't been able to determine what happened to the Midland Flour Milling Co, though I suspect it's long since gone out of business.  I've sent an email of inquiry to the Missouri Historical Society and will wait to see if they can shed some light.  I was paging through the book and found a recipe called Spring Medley Fruit Pie which offered the idea of changing up the usual strawberry-rhubarb combo.  I adapted it by cutting the sugar in half and used my preferred recipe for Cook's Illustrated's Foolproof Pie Dough.  

Spring Fling Pie
Don't worry about dicing your fruit into small pieces.
In fact, I'd say I cut mine into chunks.  I prefer the
aesthetics of larger cuts and keep in mind that fruit
will shrink during baking.

Pie dough for a double crust (recipe here)

1 1/2 cups diced strawberries

1 1/2 cups died rhubarb                        

1 1/2 cups diced fresh pineapple

1 diced banana

1/2 cup flour

2 Tbsp. cornstarch

1 cup, plus 1 Tbsp. sugar

1 Tbsp. butter

1 egg white


After making and refrigerating the dough, take one disk out  of the fridge and roll it out on your generously floured work surface.  Don't skimp on the flour or your dough is going to stick to the surface and the rolling pin.  Roll the dough into a 12 inch circle and then gently fold that circle over your rolling pin and lift the dough into a 9-inch pie plate.  Straighten out the dough gingerly and press it down into the plate.  Leave the dough overhanging the plate and stick it in fridge to get firm, about 30 min.

Adjust oven rack to lowest position, place a rimmed baking sheet on the oven rack, and preheat the oven to 425 degrees. While the dough chills and the oven heats, clean and cut up the fruit, measuring it into a medium mixing bowl.  In a separate bowl, measure and mix the flour, starch, and sugar thoroughly.  Set both bowls aside.

Line a baking sheet with parchment paper.  Pull out the other disk of refrigerated dough and roll out into a 15 x 11 inch rectangle.  Using a pizza wheel, fluted pastry wheel, or pairing knife trim off uneven edges, then cut the rectangle lengthwise into 8 strips.  Gently pick up the strips and lay them on the baking sheet.  Put the baking sheet into the freezer to firm up the strips, about 20 min.

Pull the dough lined pie plate out of the fridge.  Spread 1/4 of the flour, starch, & sugar mix in the bottom of the dough lined plate.  Thoroughly combine the remaining flour, starch & sugar mix with the fruit.  Pour the fruit filling into the pie plate.  Cube the butter into small pieces and dot the filling with the butter.

Remove the pie strips from the freezer and if they're really stiff, let them sit at room temp until they soften a bit, but are still cold.

Now, you may think a lattice top pie is too difficult or that you can't do it, but you can.  The first time I tried making a lattice top, I didn't realize you were supposed to weave the strips and just laid them out in a grid, but it was fine!  If weaving the strips seems too much, then layer them.  Either way, you're going to want four strips going across the pie one way and the other four strips laying perpendicular.  Weave, don't weave, no biggie.  This dough is extremely easy to bend, move, and repair.  

After the strips are on the pie however you want them, trim off the excess ends, fold the dough rim of the shell up over the lattice strips and crimp with your fingers or a fork.

Next, grab a pastry brush or a smallish unused paint brush. Crack open your egg and separate the yolk from the whites.  Use the brush to paint the egg white onto the top of your pie, coat the strips and the edge until they're glistening.  Use the remaining Tablespoon of sugar to sprinkle over the dough, the sugar will stick to the wet egg white.  

Take out the pre-baked rimmed baking sheet, set your pie on the sheet and put it into the oven to bake at 425 degrees until the top is light golden brown, about 20 to 25 min.

Then reduce the oven temp to 375 degrees, rotate the baking sheet and continue baking until the crust is deep gold brown, about 25 to 30 min.  Pull the pie out and set it on a wire rack to cool for an hour or two.

Note:  After reducing the oven temp to 375, I usually place a metal pie ring over the pie's edges to prevent it from getting too brown.  If you don't have one of those and you think the edge is browning more than you'd like, just use tinfoil and place it around the edges.  It's always important to keep an eye on your pie while it's baking. Ovens vary a great deal, so what cooks faster in your oven, may cook slower in mine. Baking times should be regarded as a suggestion.


Enjoy.


Pies are what got me into baking. There’s much I can say about my failures and successes, and stories to go with, but that’ll be a post for another day. 










6.21.2013

Beginning

It’s time.  I’ve talked about doing this project for years and obsessed throughout all that time over names, blog platforms, header designs, content ideas, and scope.  All the friends and family I’ve cornered with my blog talk are by now thinking or have actually said, "For the love of god, please stop talking about your non-existent blog and start it." 

So, here is Spooning the Dish, a food blog.  The name is about the excitement of eating, like when amazing food possesses you and as manners are cast aside, your spoon takes on a life of its own (my downfall from time to time).  It’s also in reference to great conversation.  The best conversations I’ve had in life, the best storytelling I’ve heard or shared has always happened at the table. 


Most of the cooking and baking I’ll present here is based on vintage recipes from my large collection of cooking pamphlets, cookbooks, and found recipe cards.  I do a ton of scavenging in junk shops.  

Seeing as how I’m a Midwesterner, I also hope to document some of the regional food culture.  It’s kind of a secret, but there are some great eats in between the coasts.

I’m hoping Spooning the Dish will offer some laughs, some noteworthy food, interesting photography, and good stories.  If you want to know more, click on About.  

Cheers.