Mushroom Madness

After a life-induced blog hiatus (back-to-school, 30-year high school reunion, a nearly week-long business trip, Natalie’s birthday, sports, music, massive projects at work), I am happy to get back in the kitchen with Mamie!

My search for baby button mushrooms was aided by friends, family and Monterey Mushrooms, and it ended at the Safeway on Fremont and Canyon Del Ray.

The Origin of this Recipe

Pulling out the recipe card, I started to make a list. While the components of the recipe are simple, the main ingredient had me puzzled: Fresh mushrooms or canned? Given the convenience-oriented recipes of the 60s (refer to my last post about fluffy mashed potatoes, where the recipe called for instant spuds), I was uncertain. Since this was an experiment, I figured, Why not try it both ways?

Returning home with my mushroom bounty, I decided to hit the web before I ventured into the kitchen. I was very curious about the name of the recipe, “Mushroom Marinade California.” What makes it “California”? Although my search did not result in an answer to that question, it yielded an interesting result. I found another food blogger who posted about a recipe with the same title, and it had the exact ingredients and preparation notes as what was handwritten on Mamie’s index card. The recipe was credited to the Fresh Mushroom Cookbook, by Sybil Henderson (1967).

Preparing the Mushrooms

Research complete, I headed to the kitchen. While I usually follow a recipe precisely at least once before making changes or enhancements, the simplicity of this one inspired me to create a couple of variations. So I set out to make 4 types of marinated mushrooms:

1.     Mushroom Marinade California – with fresh mushrooms

2.     Mushroom Marinade California – with canned mushrooms (Yes, after my research on the Fresh Mushroom Cookbook, I knew that the recipe was never intended for the canned sort. But what else was I going to do with canned mushrooms?)

3.     Mushroom Marinade Italia (variation 1)

4.     Mushroom Marinade Teriyaki (variation 2)

Mushroom Marinade California	Mushroom Marinade Italia	Mushroom Marinade Teriyaki
1 lb. fresh baby button mushrooms	Same	Same
3/4 cup salad oil (I can only presume that means vegetable oil!)	Substitute extra virgin olive oil.	Substitute with a blend of canola oil and toasted sesame oil (I used 3/4 canola and 1/4 toasted sesame, as the sesame oil is pretty strong).
1/3 cup of red wine vinegar	Substitute balsamic vinegar. (I use the Costco brand.)	Substitute with rice wine vinegar (which is mild) or apple cider vinegar (for a stronger flavor).
2 tablespoons of fresh squeezed lemon juice	Same	Substitute with lime juice if desired. Can also add lime zest.
3 teaspoons of chopped chives	Substitute with a chiffonade of basil (sliced into thin ribbons). Can also add a teaspoon or two of chopped fresh oregano leaves.	Same
3 cloves of garlic, finely minced	Same	Same. Can also add some fresh shredded ginger, to taste.
1/2 teaspoon of white sugar	Can omit the sugar if your aged balsamic is sweet enough.	Substitute brown sugar and increase to 2 teaspoons.
1 teaspoon table salt	Substitute with 1/2 teaspoon of kosher salt or to taste	Substitute 2 tablespoons of soy sauce (for salt and color)

To prepare, gently clean and trim the ends of the baby button mushrooms (or you can use larger mushrooms and cut them into bite-sized chunks) and place them in a zipper bag or plastic container. Whisk together the other ingredients and pour over the mushrooms, covering the mushrooms completely. Place in the refrigerator for at least 4 hours (overnight is even better), turning them a few times to ensure even coating.

Mushroom Tasting

After soaking the mushrooms overnight, I assembled a panel of judges for the taste testing (myself, my daughter Natalie, my husband George and my friend Monica). And only I knew which bowl contained which recipe (and I even through in a ringer, with a deli-bought bowl of teriyaki marinaded mushrooms).

The results: No one really cared for the canned-mushroom variety. Mamie’s original recipe was well liked. The deli mushrooms had a notably different texture—more like the canned ones—and were almost too strong. The homemade “Teriyaki” mushrooms had a delicate flavor, and the toasted sesame oil was a stand-out. And the “Italia” version was the all-around favorite—sweet, tangy and rich in flavor.

The method is really very simple and produces a very tasty homemade appetizer that you can enjoy at home or take to a party. Use one of the variations above or create one of your own. All you need is an oil, an acid (vinegar and/or citrus juice), a little sweetness, and the herbs or flavorings of your choosing.

From Mamie’s kitchen and my own – Enjoy!

 

Coming Next: Christmas Cookies!

You Can't Beat Ground Meat

“For good stick-to-the-ribs fare, you can't beat ground meat”
From Better Homes & Gardens Meat Cook Book

I know I promised the results of my marinated-mushrooms preparation, but I couldn’t resist a quick detour into the world of meatloaf.

Earlier in the week, George had sketched out a basic menu plan that ended with “How about meatloaf on Friday?” We hadn’t made it in a while, the kids enjoy it, and it sounded good to me. So as George and the kids worked in the backyard to lay the brick foundation for the floor of our new greenhouse, I started to pull the meal together. I have a variety of meatloaf recipes—including an Asian-inspired version from Ming Tsai and a couple from America’s Test Kitchen. But it occurred to me: Why not go to one of Mamie’s cookbooks?

Meatloaf was a staple growing up, but I don’t recall Mamie using a particular recipe. It was probably just one of those things that she threw together without one. I went to the Meat Cook Book and flipped to the pages on ground beef. And sure enough, below the pithy quote, there were two recipes for meatloaf.

Selecting "Twin Meat Loaves," I deided to substitute pork sausage for the ground veal and pork. Other than that, I followed the recipe faithfully. I understand the need for a panade (starch and milk) to keep meatballs, hamburgers or meatloaf moist, but this one made me go hmmmm? An entire cup of milk? It seemed like an awful lot of liquid—and it was.

Wrist deep in the wettest meatloaf mixture I’ve ever handled, I was mildly panicked yet oddly content. The kitchen was quiet, save for the squishy sucking sounds made as I kneaded the concoction. Through the window, I watched the silent movie of George and the kids as they worked and smiled and bantered. And I felt Mamie’s approval, channeled through time by memories and recipes, as I followed in her footsteps to nourish my family with both food and love.

Even after sitting in the refrigerator for a bit, the meatloaf mix was still very loose, and I was apprehensive as I started to shape the loaves. I couldn’t actually roll them in the bread crumbs as called for in the recipe (something I’ve never done before), so I settled for forming the loaves and then patting on the breadcrumbs on to coat them. With a quick prayer as to their edibility, I popped them into the oven.

In our house, meatloaf gets paired with mashed potatoes and brown gravy. I had already peeled and diced the potatoes and covered them with cold water. But before preparing them in my usual fashion, I decided to consult 1963 for a “recipe.” Not surprisingly, the Vegetable Cook Book had a chapter on potatoes. But I was shocked to see that the ingredient list for both “Fluffy Potatoes” and “Company Potatoes” began with Instant Mashed Potatoes. I guess the convenience of “instant” ingredients was en vogue in the 60s.

My mashed potatoes are pretty straightforward, prepared with butter, sour cream, salt and pepper. I sometimes throw in some cheese (don’t tell Leland!), so I was intrigued with the recipe for “Fluffy Potatoes.” The egg yolks added a distinct richness to the potatoes (don’t tell my doctor!) and the stiffly beaten egg whites folded in at the end did lighten the texture.

My hungry crew came in from outside and washed up, the wonderful aromas bringing them right to the dinner table. We dished up and dug in, and we were all impressed with the results. The meatloaf was tender, flavorful and juicy. The bread crumb coating gave it a delicate crust, and the drizzle of chili sauce added a nice tang. The potatoes were creamy if not “fluffy” (maybe that only works with the instant variety), and Natalie really liked the crispy baked top. Leland, on the other hand, was excited about the prospect of meatloaf sandwiches in his future.

Bonus: there are enough potatoes left over for a cottage pie, rumored to be a favorite meal of Prince William.

Mushroom update:

I continue my search for the perfect "button" mushrooms. For Mamie's appetizer, they should measure about one cubic inch. There are plenty of large ones out there—great for stuffing, as my boss Randy points out. And medium-sized ones—perfect for slicing or sautéing—abound. But the button mushroom remains elusive. I may have to resort to quartering larger ones. One way or the other, I’ll dish them up soon and let you know the results.

Diane Mika: Recipe Detective

Not to overuse the Julie & Julia comparison, but Julie only had to deal with 524 recipes in Julia's The Art of French Cooking. I have a little more to contend with.

The Challenge

From left, going clockwise: me in Mamie's arms,
cousin Cindy, Aunt Penny, Papa (Mamie's father) and my sister, Vicki.

I inherited Mamie's not inconsiderable collection of cookbooks, pamphlets and loose recipes, and I'm also at a bit of a disadvantage. Born to my parents later in their life, I didn't have as much time to enjoy Mamie's cooking as my brothers and sister did (they were 15, 16 and 18 when I entered the scene). What's more, I was every mother's nightmare: a picky eater (I don't mean mildy picky. I mean that if not for peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, I might not have survived childhood!).

I grew up in a house with enticing aromas emanating from the kitchen. I sat around the table and enjoyed the company. But some of my memories of her wonderful food are not really my own. I recall everyone raving about her chicken cacciatore, for example, but I don't have a memory of the dish, myself. So in a way, going through and preparing her recipes will help me recover some of the lost tastes of my childhood.

The Source Material

One of Mamie's most prized recipe collections was a Better Homes & Gardens series, which I'm sure she must've received like a book-of-the-month club. There are two styles of books (all copyrighted 1963). One set covers the basics, with titles like Meat Cook Book, Dessert Cook Book, etc. And the other bears the moniker "Creative Cooking Library" and has more interesting titles, like Meals with a Foreign Flair, Best Brunches, and Meals in Minutes.

Then there are the cookbooks and she picked up along the way. Some, I recall, from our 3-month RV trek in the summer of 1971 that took us through the lower states from California to the Florida keys and back. Others come from my parents' retirement travels through New England. Others, still, come from church fundraisers and the like.

She also collected recipes from magazines and newspapers, not to mention product-based cookbooks, like Campbell's Recipe Box Cookbook, featuring Campbell's tomato soup (free with the purchase of two cans of soup), and Cordial Entertaining by Hiram Walker (now that one will bear some looking into!).

The Detective Work
As I go through the books, I set aside the ones with the perfect spines and pristine pages. I'm searching for dog-eared corners and stained pages--the ones that she really used. I have a nice stack of candidates in front of me but decide that I'll get to those later.

I'm drawn to the recipe box, as those are the ones she treasured enough to commit to her own handwriting. I smile fondly as I handle the dark-green tin index-card box, with flowers and the word "ADDRESS" painted on the top (my handiwork, most likely a Mother's Day craft project from grade school).

I open the box, and just seeing her handwriting brings her closer to me. (In some ways, I wish this blog could be in handwriting so that my children could experience that same feeling of nostalgia someday.)  I flip through the cards and see some of the favorites that my family members are waiting to hear about: clam chowder, burgundy beef, fruit and cream pie, dream bars. I'll get to those, I promise. But I don't want to overlook anything.

The Selection
Part of me--the perfectionist part--wants to analyze the source material and develop a comprehensive plan before embarking on the cooking tour. However, I'm learning to quell that tendency, as it leads leads first to mild paralysis and, ultimately, to complete inaction.

To keep my momentum with this project, I use the highly scientific method of pulling a card at random: "Mushroom Marinade California." The logical part of my brain sighs with relief, satisfied with the sensible decision to begin with an appetizer.

My family members could probably tell you how good these marinated mushrooms are (feel free to comment, folks), but I don't have that taste-memory. As a mostly reformed picky eater, I now love mushrooms and am excited to prepare this dish.

The adventure begins!

Next time: Marinated Mushrooms - The Results

Dinner for 18: A Mamie-worthy Family Gathering

July 15th began as a sleepy Sunday morning. My husband, George, and son, Leland, had returned from a week at Boy Scout camp the night before, so we had decided not to go to church (sorry, Pastor Linda!). I was in bed with a cup of coffee, feeling decadent as I sorted through the week's accumulation of mail, when the phone rang.

"It says 'Creekmore'" George yelled from downstairs, referring to the caller ID. Uh oh, I thought as I scrambled for the phone.

It was all coming back to me. My Mills nieces and nephew from Oklahoma (my brother Greg's children) had planned a visit to the west coast, and my niece, Shelly (Creekmore), called in late June to confirm they'd be in Salinas on July 15th...today. With all the things going on in my life (chiefly among them is helping my sister, Vicki, through her cancer treatment at Stanford, but that's a story for another time), it had totally slipped my mind.

"Hi, Aunt Diane," Shelly greeted me, "We just got onto 101. We didn't have any cell service at the cabin, so we couldn't call sooner. We'll be there in about an hour and a half." I responded in all truthfulness, if in a bit of a panic, "That's terrific, Shelly. We can't wait to see you!" Well, I guess I'd better get in the shower, was my next thought.

I rushed through my ablutions (those of you who have given me grief over the years for using the word "repast" may need to look it up ☺) and began ticking items off my mental list. Mostly clean house: check. Call Greg: check. Call Vicki: check. Decide what to make for dinner...no check. I had really wanted this event to be a true Mamie-style food fest, using some of her cherished recipes. George praised that as a noble and well-intentioned desire but helped me come to terms with the fact that shopping for and preparing such a feast was just not possible in the time available. (Actually, it was more of a heated squabble between the two of us, but this sounded nicer and the result was the same.) The real point of the day, he reminded me, was spending time with family. Great husband, check!

After a whirlwind trip to the grocery store, we began to prepare the meal:

• Chicken leg quarters, bathed in a combination of McCormick Grill Mates "Zesty Herb" and "Garlic, Herb & Wine " marinades, sprinkled liberally with McCormick Grill Mates "Smokehouse Maple Blend" seasoning, and grilled to perfection by George.
• My own macaroni salad, with a nice balance between creamy mayonnaise and tangy Italian dressing, aromatic onion, crisp celery, hard boiled eggs, sweet pickle relish, chopped black olives (for the "What in the heck are those black specks?" factor) and the requisite sprinkling of paprika on top.
• Semi-homemade baked beans, with sauteed onions, chunks of thick-sliced bacon, brown sugar and real maple syrup.
• A salad of freshly chopped romaine lettuce, juicy grape tomatoes, fresh green onions, crunchy croutons and a variety of dressings.
• Savory garlic bread--made by my daughter, Natalie--with melted butter, freshly pressed garlic and grated Parmesan cheese, topped with chopped parsley from our herb garden.
• Not bad for last minute, huh?

Shelly & Vicki

The doorbell started to ring, and then the real fun began. First my sister, Vicki, and her two grandchildren, Jaden and Autumn, arrived. Shortly thereafter, the contingent from Oklahoma was at the door: my niece, Shelly, her husband Pat and their children Kaitlyn and Zach (with an "h" not a "k"); my niece, Tammy; my nephew Loren, his wife Jennifer and their children Kyleigh and Kolyn. Before long, my brother, Greg, and his other son, Tony, were crossing the threshold. Counting me, George, Natalie and Leland, that made 18!

Kyleigh & Kolyn watching Despicable Me

Stationed in the kitchen, chopping, prepping, stirring and observing the wonderful chaos, my heart brimmed with contentment. Everyone was crowded in the kitchen and family room. The TV blared Despicable Me (ostensibly for the little ones, but everyone was enjoying it--after all, who doesn't like minions?). Conversations ebbed, flowed and overlapped. Kids wandered in and out. Pictures were snapped. I stepped back for a moment to soak it all in, and I raised a silent toast to Mamie, feeling a connection to her beyond time and space.

Back row: George, Tony, Jaden & Loren
Front row: Zach, Kaitlyn, Greg

Then it was time to add leaves to the dining-room table (seating 10), set up the card table (seating another 4, but only after George, Natalie and Kaitlyn went to the neighbors to get the chairs we'd left there at New Year's!) and clear the breakfast bar in the kitchen of hors d'oeuvres (to seat the final 4). We ate buffet style, so by the time the last were sitting down to eat, the first few were finishing up--but everyone lingered and talked.

After quickly clearing up (thank goodness for paper plates!), we made our way to the desserts. Greg had brought a carrot cake and a blueberry bundt cake (or as everyone started calling it, for some reason, a "butt" cake); plus, we sliced into a succulent watermelon. When you consider all that with cups of coffee and glasses of milk, I think its safe to say that everyone was sated by the time we wiped up the crumbs.

All too soon, it was time for good-byes. But not before we took some group photos to commemorate the day. Vicki and her grandchildren went home to Castroville. Shelly (and her family) and Tammy headed back to their mother's family cabin at Lake Nacimiento. Loren and his family followed Greg and Tony back to Hayward. And we closed the door with a satisfied sigh. What a great day! Mamie would have been proud.

The whole gang...except George, who snapped ths photo!

Next time, I'll serve Mamie's Burgundy Beef. I promise.

Coming up...digging into the recipe box.

Welcome to "In the Kitchen with Mamie" -- an homage to my mother, with a little self-exploration tossed in for good measure. I figure if Julie could get to know Julia through preparing her recipes and blogging about it, I might be able to do something similar with my mother.

To begin, here's a photo of Mamie - in the kitchen, of course. 

Mamie in the Kitchen, Pueblo Drive, Circa 1973

I love this picture. It is emblematic of her joy in preparing for so many family gatherings. She loved to feed her family. And she was happiest when she was creating, whether in the kitchen, at the sewing machine, at the easel or in the garage conjuring up beautiful candle holders from other people's discarded lamp parts.

A child of the depression, born in the dust bowl of Oklahoma in 1923, Mamie was also one of the thriftiest people I've ever known. I thought about her this morning as I made my cup of coffee, certain she would have enjoyed the freshly brewed single cup of coffee with its delicate layer of crema, but knowing she would have balked at its cost. You see, I own a Senseo coffee maker (alas, Senseo is to Keurig as Beta was to VHS), and the coffee pods are both hard to find and darned expensive.

In this uncertain economic time (not to mention the fact that the facility where my husband, George, works will be shutting down by year-end), I find myself thinking more and more about the wisdom of her frugality. Growing up, I never felt that we wanted for anything. But looking back, I can recall the deft way she reused items that today I throw away without a thought after a single use.

In this blog, I hope to share recipes, family stories, entertaining ideas, thrifty tips and more.

So, here's to you, Mom! I love you. I miss you. I appreciate the lessons you've taught me -- many of which I am just now realizing. And I hope they have Wi-Fi in heaven so you can read my blog!

Fondly submitted,

Mamie's daughter

Next time, you'll learn about a Mamie-worthy gathering for 18...stay tuned!