Scott Hutcheson

Feeding a Revolution

Originally published in quality newspapers the week of February 27, 2011

"Koshari El Tahrir is passing out free food.” This is just one of the millions of “tweets” sent during the 18 days Egyptian demonstrators were gathered in Cairo’s Tahrir Square. Reports of the actual numbers of demonstrators range from 100,000 to 2 million. Even on the low side of those estimates, that’s a lot of people and one of the ways they organized and communicated with one another was by using social media like Twitter and Facebook.

These methods of communication were used to help tend to those who were injured or became sick during the protests, to spread bits of news, and to help each other find where they can get their basic needs taken care of – location of operational restrooms, drinking water, and food.

The free food served by Koshari El Tahrir, a restaurant near one of the campuses of the American University in Cairo, is also called koshari. If Egypt has a national food, this is it. Recognizing an entrepreneurial opportunity, many restaurants and even home cooks prepared koshari and bicycled it into Tahrir Square to sell to the masses.

Koshari has lots of variations but its basic components include a starch (often elbow macaroni or brown rice), lentils, chickpeas, a spicy tomato sauce, vinegar, then topped with fried onions. This is a perfect food to feed a revolution – complex carbohydrates, protein, bold flavors, and enough different textures to keep things interesting. It is also a food that is probably equally delicious hot and when it has cooled off a bit.

Whether its civilian demonstrators or soldiers, masses of people on a mission, usually can’t accomplish that mission without food. Napoleon said, “armies march on their stomachs” and offered a reward of 12,000 francs to anyone who could come up with a better way to preserve food for his troops. Nicolas Appert, who had experience as an innkeeper, brewer, and chef came up with a method, collected the reward, and set up the world’s first bottling factory. Appert is known as the “Father of Canning.”

Feeding the Continental Army during the American Revolution proved to be a considerable challenge. At the beginning of the Revolutionary War, each of the colonies took on the responsibility of feedings its own militia but as the army grew, that function became centralized and the Continental Congress created new post, the Commissary General of Stores Provisions. James Trumbull, the first to hold this position, oversaw the process of putting the system into place.

During these war years, the ration for each soldier changed a bit, but much of the time it included a pound of bread, a pound of meat, a gill (4 ounces) of dry beans or peas, and a gill of rum. The bread was made with just flour and water so it was very hard and needed to be soaked in water before it could be chewed and the meat was salted pork or beef. Most soldiers cooked their salted meat and beans or peas together over an open fire to create a hearty stew. Often extra rum was provided on holidays and to celebrate significant victories.

Even demonstrators closer to home get hungry. Teachers assembled at the state capital in Madison, Wisconsin have been well fed thanks to hundreds of supporters from all over the world, including Egypt, calling in and paying for pizzas to be delivered from Ian’s Pizza, located near the capital. 

The instances of democracy at work in our own country have been inspiring. Union members voicing their concerns, legislatures fleeing their own states, Tea Party rallies – these events have been peaceful and the fact that their greatest physical needs of the people involved have been for pizza, rather than stretchers, is yet another reasons to be thankful we live where we live. 

DIY in the Kitchen (and recipe for Whole Grain Mustard)

Originally published in quality newspapers the week of February 13, 2011

Over the last few months we’ve had some help around our house from problem-solver extraordinaire Bruce. To call him a handyman does not do Bruce justice. He’s got the brain of an engineer, the skilled hands of a carpenter, and the patience of Job.

We’ve lived in our now-103-year-old home for almost 12 years now. It is our first house and when we moved in I attacked each and every home improvement and repair with enthusiastic gusto. “We’re not hiring anyone to refinish those hardwoods,” I told my wife, “I can do that myself.” I gave it a shot, gave it my best actually, but failed miserably and ended up calling the professionals.

Even the seemingly simplest tasks, like hanging a light fixture, prove more challenging for me than most people. It’s like the part of my brain that can see things in three dimensions and perform the other mental functions necessary to execute such tasks, doesn’t work right. It’s like I have some sort of DIY dyslexia. A guy like me needs a guy like Bruce.

I got my first clue that I was not like other guys at 15 when I was hired to mow for our church. This task required a John Deere tractor, a push mower, and a weed whacker, all of which needed maintenance and repair on a regular basis. I learned early that a career in lawn care was not in my future.

Then came job number two: a cook in a restaurant. Within the first hour I knew I was in my element. Strangely many of the tasks were similar to those in the mowing business. I was still handling tools, some of which cold easily sever fingers, I still needed to maintain equipment and assemble machinery like the biggest food processor you have ever seen, yet it all made sense in the setting of a kitchen. Within a few days I was improvising on recipes and making suggestions for process improvements. I was richly rewarded for my good work getting a ten-cent an hour raise to $3.45.

So here I am now, a middle-aged man who tinkers in the kitchen instead of the garage; and while other dads are spending their weekends building bookshelves or laying new bathroom floors, a typical home project for me is to make a batch of demi glaze. As a result, my family eats well but may have to put up with a broken light switch until I can call Bruce.

One of my recent DIY projects was tackling an item that is a constant presence in my refrigerator but one that I new little about – mustard. After doing a little research I learned that this ancient condiment is surprisingly easy to make and thanks to some of the properties of these tiny seed, will last pretty much forever without spoiling. I started out with a basic whole grain version but have plans to experiment with some of the endless variations. Depending on what sort of liquid used – vinegars, wine, beer; other flavoring agents like fruiy and level of sweetness you want, you can literally make a different mustard each month for the rest of your life and never run out of possibilities.

Whether you are a do-it-yourselfer around the rest of the house or not, I urge you to try making your own mustard and see what happens. As for me, I’m going to continue to call Bruce, but next time he comes over I might to make him a sandwich with some of my homemade mustard.

 Whole Grain Mustard

• 1/3 cup brown mustard seeds
• 1/3 cup yellow mustard seeds
• Apple cider vinegar
• 1/3 cup ground yellow mustard
• ½ teaspoon salt
• 1 tablespoon brown sugar

Place the brown and yellow mustard seeds in a jar with a lid and add vinegar so that it is about ½ inch above the top of the seeds. Put lid on and let sit over night. Dump this mixture into a food processor, add the other ingredients, and pulse a few times. Add water if it is too think. Return to the jar and store in fridge for just about forever!

In the Pink for Valentine's Day (and Recipe for Filet Mignon Pink Peppercorn au Poivre)

Originally published in quality newspapers the week of February 6, 2011

Let’s face it. Valentine’s Day is pretty much a chick’s holiday. I mean no disrespect with my use of the term “chick.” In professional settings I try to avoid gender-specific terms. What were once “councilmen"  are now “councilpersons” and when have to refer specifically to a group of adult females I would never use a phrase like the “girls in the office.” But when it comes to February 14^th, “chick” is what works as in it’s a chick’s rather than a dude’s holiday.

February 14 could come and go, as far as I’m concerned, and if I didn’t get a single card, or a piece of chocolate, I would not lose even a single wink of sleep over it and most of the other men I talk with feel the same. For me, and most of my fellow men, Valentine’s Day is more about giving than receiving and data from the National Retail Federation supports that suspicion noting that men’s expenditures are twice that of women’s with cards, jewelry, flowers, candy, and clothing as big-ticket items. I suspect, however, that much of that “clothing” might be worn by the women but really for the men.

As you might imagine, my Valentine’s Day presents yet another opportunity to get into the kitchen and prepare a dinner my Valentine will enjoy. I’m hearing from my male friends that an increasing number of them are also planning to cook this year for the women in their lives.

One benefit of talking the helm in the kitchen is that you can design a menu that you both will enjoy. This year I’m planning on making something very dude-friendly – red meat, with a special girly twist – a pink peppercorn cream sauce. Pink peppercorns, unlike their black, white, and green counterparts, have no piperine, which gives pepper its heat. Instead, they have sweet, spicy, citrus quality to them and their color turns the cream sauce a light pink.

Whether you are male or female, if you are planning to cook dinner at home this year, you may want to consider this dish. Serve it with some potatoes, a green salad, and something chocolate for dessert and it could be a very special Valentine’s dinner. And dudes even if you are cooking, you’ll probably still be on the hook for card, flowers, candy, and/or jewelry.

Filet Mignon Pink Peppercorn au Poivre

• 2 filet mignon steaks, about 1-1/2 inches thick
• Kosher salt
• 2 tablespoons whole pink peppercorns
• 1 tablespoon unsalted butter
• 1 teaspoon olive oil extra virgin olive oil
• 1/3 cup Cognac,
• 1 cup heavy whipping cream

Bring steaks to room temperature and season both sides with the kosher salt. from the refrigerator for at least 30 minutes and up to 1 hour prior to cooking. Use a mortar and pestle or zip-top bag and mallet to coarsely crush the peppercorns. Spreads two-thirds of the crushed peppercorns evenly on a small plate and press each side of the steaks into the pepper.

Heat a nonstick pan to medium-high heat and add the butter and oil. When hot, place the steaks in the pan. Cook about five minutes on each side for medium (less or more depending on how done you want them. Remove steaks from pan and pour off any of the oil and butter remaining.

Keep the pan off heat and add the Cognac to the pan. Carefully place pan back on the burner (it may flame) and let reduce by half then add the cream. Bring the mixture to a boil and whisk until the sauce coats the back of a spoon, approximately five minutes. Whisk in the remaining cracked peppercorns and taste to see if additional salt is needed. Place steaks back to the pan, spoon the sauce over, and serve.

Game Time: Pittsburg Sliders vs. Green Bay Brats

Originally published in quality newspapers the week of January 30, 2011

Are you ready for some football? Last year over 106.5 million people tuned in to watch Drew Brees and the New Orleans Saints beat the eldest Manning QB and his Indianapolis Colts making it the largest television viewing audience in history, surpassing the 1983 final episode of M*A*S*H.

People watch the big game for several reasons. Many, of course, love the gridiron and watch the pros every Sunday during the season and Monday and Thursday nights as well; and Super Bowl Sunday is like Christmas morning for these enthusiasts. For others, it’s the commercials that draw them in and this year there might even be a jump in the 14-year-old girl demographic because pop star Justin Bieber is teaming up with veteran rocker Ozzy Osbourne for a Best Buy commercial that will debut during the game.

There’s another group of people for whom the Super Bowl is a perfect occasion for a great party. Friends and family gather to not just watch the game and the commercials but to spend time together, eating, drinking, and just having fun. I find myself in this latter category. I follow my favorite team during the season with mild interest but don’t loose sleep if I miss a game and once they were out of the playoff, I didn’t pay much attention.

I will, however, watch this Sunday’s game and have turned my attention to creating the perfect Super Bowl snacks to represent each of the teams. Snacks to honor the Packers is a pretty easy proposition. Wisconsin is so closely associated with sausage and beer, good-quality brats will probably fit the bill just fine. One buffet-friendly way to serve them is to brown the brats in a pan, use a fork to poke holes in them, and then place them in a slow cooker on low. Cover with beer and let simmer for 5-6 hours and even through game time. Set out some buns, and mustard and your Green Bay fans will be happy.  

A Pittsburg-related dish, however, might not be so apparent. One idea is a Devonshire Slider, a party-friendly version of the Pittsburg sandwich invented by Frank Blandi in 1934 at his restaurant called The Stratford. Crisp bacon, turkey, and a rich cheese sauce make this a hearty choice for hungry game watchers.

Regardless of whether it’s the game, the commercials, the food, or the fellowship, enjoy Sunday’s game. I know I will.  

 Devonshire Sliders

• 6 tablespoons unsalted butter
• 1/2 cup flour
• 1 cups chicken broth
• 1 cups milk (warmed in microwave)
• 1 cup grated sharp cheddar
• 1/2 teaspoon salt
• Sarah Lee Classic Dinner Rolls (12 pack)
• 12 thin slices of deli turkey lunchmeat
• 12 slices of crisply cooked bacon
• 1/4 cup grated Parmesan cheese
• Paprika

Melt butter in a heavy-bottomed saucepan and pour off half the butter for a later use. To the remaining butter add flour, stirring constantly. Gradually whisk in the warm milk then chicken broth. Stir in cheese and salt. Reduce to simmer and continue stirring until it is the consistency of a thick gravy.

Preheat oven to 450 degrees. Cut the rolls in half like a sandwich bun and place he bottoms in an 8-13 ovenproof dish. On each bottom fold or cut one slice of turkey to fit then tear one slice of bacon to fit as well. Top each with a spoonful of the cheese sauce, sprinkle with Parmesan and paprika. In another dish, place the tops of the buns cut-side up, brush each with the remaining melted butter. Place both dishes in the oven for 10-12 minutes. Watch the buttered top buns closely because they might come to a toasty brown more quickly. Place the tops on the bottoms and serve. Makes 12 sandwiches. 

The Paillard of Love

Originally published in quality newspapers the week of January 23, 2011

Most people over the age of about 40 remember Steve Martin as not just a white-haired comedic actor but also as a prematurely-grey, white-suited stand-up comic. Among his many memorable bits was one observing how “those French have a different word for everything.”

When I first started becoming interested in cooking I was a bit intimidated and even a little put off by the French. They ate snails, for crying our loud! They may have called them escargot but they were still snails. It didn’t take long, however, to realize that a lot of what many of us eat and who we prepare our food, we owe to the French. We refer to our main course as an “entrée,” we “fillet” our fish, and we “sauté” our vegetables. These are all French terms or American versions of them.

With the proliferation of chef-helmed cooking shows more home cooks are becoming comfortable with a basic French techniques. One that we’ve moved into the regular dinner rotation in our own home is the “paillard” which like some of these other French words sounds a little more fancy-pants than it really is. A paillard is really just a thin piece of meat, usually chicken or veal, that can be cooked quickly.

My wife has recently returned to carnivorism after more than a decade as a vegetarian and she will not yet let me bring veal into the house so our paillards are of the poultry variety.

A boneless, skinless chicken breast can be transformed into a paillard in one of two ways. One way is to place the breast between two sheets of plastic wrap and pound it flat using a mallet or even a heavy flat-bottomed pan. The other technique is to use a knife. For this method you place the breast on a cutting board and use a knife to cut down the middle of the breasts, lengthwise, but only cutting half way through the flesh. Then you hold your knife with the blade parallel to your cutting board and slicing toward the left edge of the breast without cutting through the edge. You repeat this cut with the right side and then open up the breast almost like a tri-fold brochure. Either method should leave you with a piece of chicken that is about a quarter to a third of an inch thick.

There are several different ways you can prepare these palliards but the recipe below is pretty classic and one of our favorites. You’ll need about one breast per person and you can serve them with anything you like. We enjoy this these with mashed potatoes and a simple salad of greens with lemon vinaigrette.

Chicken Paillards with a Lemon Shallot Pan Sauce

• 4 chicken breasts, prepared as palliards
• Kosher salt and Cracked Black Pepper
• 2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
• 1 cup dry white wine
• 1 shallot, finely chopped
• 1 cup chicken stock
• Juice of one-half lemon
• 1 tablespoon butter

Heat a medium nonstick sauté pan to medium-high heat and add the oil. Season both sides of each palliard. Sautee the palliards one at a time in the oil, about 2-3 minutes on each side. Add more oil if needed. You can keep the pieces warm in a 200-degree oven while cooking the others. After all the chicken is cooked, add the wine and shallots to the pan and use a wooden spoon to scrape up any of the tasty bits of chicken on the bottom of the pan. Add the chicken stock and let the liquids reduce by half. Add the lemon juice and whisk in the butter until melted. Taste and add additional salt and pepper if needed. Pour sauce over chicken immediately before serving. This will make four adult servings.

Chocolate, Chili, and Civility

Originally published in quality newspapers the week of January 16, 2011

Nancy met Paul while they were both in college and after a short courtship they were married in 1962. She spent a good portion of that decade pregnant, having her five children over the course of six years. She chose to be a stay-at-home mom during those early years of their family’s life and did a lot of volunteer work in her community. Today, she and Paul have six grandchildren who call them Mimi and Pop. Nancy is a self-confessed chocoholic and her recipe for chocolate mousse is a favorite of family and friends.  She entered it into a March of Dimes recipe contest to help raise money for the charity, and it is, in fact, an award-winning dessert.

John was born in Cincinnati, one of 12 children in his German-Irish family. His grandfather owned a neighborhood cafe that served cold beer and hearty fare, and John earned his first paycheck mopping the floors there. Although it took him seven years, John put himself through college by working as a janitor. Over the years, he has risen to the highest ranks of his profession, a long way from mopping floors and cleaning bathrooms. His work keeps him away quite a bit but when he’s home one of his regular stops is to his favorite Cincinnati-style chili joints.
 
Nancy and John now work together…sort of. They are both members of the U.S. Congress. Nancy’s last name is Pelosi and John’s is Boehner and they have just recently switched roles, with Rep. Boehner as the new Speaker of the House and Rep. Pelosi as the new Minority Leader. I’m not sure what the personal relationship is between these two individuals but they are symbols of our two-party system of government in the United States, a system that’s civility, or lack thereof, is currently being questioned.
 
The tragic shooting in Arizona will likely prove to be completely unrelated to any heated political rhetoric, but the event did seem to heighten the conversation about how we should behave toward one another when it comes to civic affairs and how our political discourse at all levels – federal, state, and local could take on a different tone.
 
I’ve got some ideas about how we might be able to make that happen. How about a Capital Hill pitch in, potluck, covered dish supper, dinner on the grounds, or whatever it’s called in your neck of the woods?  What if Nancy made her award-winning chocolate mousse and John brought a big ol’ Crockpot of Cincinnati chili? What if, just for an hour or so, all talk of politics was replaced by the swapping of recipes and the bragging of grandparents? Could something so simple begin to change the tone in Washington?

Janet Flammang, a professor of political science and the author of A Taste for Civilization: Food, Politics. and Civil Society, tells us that the table is one of the first places where we learn about being civil to one another. She notes that, “It is at the temporary democracy of the table that children learn the art of conversation and acquire the habits of civility—sharing, listening, taking turns, navigating differences, arguing without offending—and it is these habits that are lost when we eat alone and on the run."

Maybe what is good for children would be good for Congress and good for the rest of us as well. Maybe regular breaking of bread together would help us reacquire those habits of civility. It just might be worth a try.

Dumplings & Grandmothers: Soft & Warm

Originally published in quality newspapers the week of January 10, 2011

Everything about my Grandmother Smith was soft and warm, from her manner to her middle and from her feather bed to the way she sort of whisper-whistled hymns while doing her daily chores. To say that she was soft, however, is just part of who she was, because she was also strong. She was the kind of strong you had to be to be when you were a widowed mother during the Great Depression and the kind of strong you needed to be to send your sons off to war.

When my sister and I visited her Arkansas home a couple times each year, we would fight over which one of us got to sleep with her at night. One would bunk with her in her double bed while the other got the single feather bed that was on the other end of her bedroom. Either was a pretty good deal but sleeping with “Ma Ma” was the grand prize. I can vividly remember nestling up against her warm back and throwing my little arm around her soft waist.

My grandmother lived well into her 90’s but she died about the time I was becoming interested in cooking. She was a wonderful cook and I would loved to have spent time with her in her kitchen, learning to make some of my favorites, her chicken and dumplings in particular. Like many women from that era, she was not one to work off recipes.

On my trip home to see my own mother last month, she recalled that she had sat with her mom in the kitchen one day while she was making her chicken and dumplings and taken notes. Mom had recently run across those notes and made a copy for me. It was the best Christmas present I could imagine.

I spent some time last week recreating the recipe and ended up with something really close to what I remember from my childhood. I’m sure this recipe won’t mean as much to you as it does to me, but if you don’t already have a favorite chicken and dumplings recipe, I hope you’ll give this one a try and tell your family it came from a grandma in Arkansas who was soft and warm as those dumplings in their bowl.  

Ma Ma’s Chicken and Dumplings

• 2 quarts chicken broth
• 2 chicken breasts
• 3 cups all-purpose flour
• 1 teaspoon baking soda
• 1 teaspoon salt
• 1 tablespoon shortening
• 1-1/3 cups buttermilk
• 2 tablespoons butter
• Salt and cracked black pepper to taste

Pour the chicken broth into a stock put and bring to a boil. Once boiling, add the chicken breasts and when the broth returns to a boil, reduce the heat to medium, cover, and simmer the chicken for 18-20 minutes. To be sure it is cooked completely you can remove one of the breasts and insert and probe thermometer. Chicken should be cooked to 165 degrees. Remove breasts from the broth and set aside to cool enough to handle. Leave the broth simmering.

For the dumplings, combine the flour, baking soda, and salt in a mixing bowl. Use your fingers to work in the shortening, pinching it and incorporating it through the flour mixture. Mix in one cup of the hot broth and one cup of buttermilk. Dough should be about the same consistency as biscuit dough. Place the dough on a floured surface and work in enough flour so that you can use a rolling pin to roll the dough out to just a little thicker than piecrust.

Bring the stock both up to a boil. Use a knife to bite-size cut pieces of the dough dropping them into the boiling broth. As the dumplings are cooking, remove the meat skin from the chicken breasts and tear the meat into bite-size pieces.

The dumplings will only need to cook for 2-3 minutes. You can tell they are done when they begin to float and puff out just a bit. Stir in the butter and remaining 1/3 cup buttermilk to thicken the broth. Add the chicken pieces and serve immediately. This will make about four adult-sized portions.

2011: The Year of Eating Intentionally?

Originally published in quality newspapers the week of January 2, 2010

2010: The Year of the Tea Party, the Politically Conservative Woman, the Tablet Computer, the App? Only time will tell what we will remember most about 2010. Time Magazine picked 26-year-old Facebook founder Mark Zuckerberg as it’s Person of the Year and the film about Facebook tops most critics’ best-of lists so maybe 2010 will be known as the year social networking hit the mainstream. Even my 87 year-old stepfather set up a Facebook page in 2010.

We probably don’t need to spend much time thinking about the year that was. It’s over. We’ve thrown out the calendar. Maybe instead we should spend some time considering what we would like 2011 to be the year of. Much of what occurs during the next 360 or so days will be out of our control. Perhaps something so unexpected and monumental will occur on the world stage by December 31 we will unanimously concur on that being the defining moment of 2011.

Maybe it will be a medical breakthrough that will dramatically change the lives of millions; or perhaps some new bestselling book will enlighten us with a new way to think about the world and our place in; or it could be that the ultimate underdog story stirs our spirits and renews our hopes.

Baring any of these scenarios, I’m hoping another theme might rise to our collective conscience in 2011, that of eating intentionally. One of the byproducts of living in the richest country in the world, where food is so plentiful and inexpensive for most of us, is that eating becomes as routine as breathing and little, if any, intention goes into what we put into our mouths.

So what exactly is intentional eating? Well, it can actually be a lot of things. Paying attention, for instance, to where our food comes from and to the impact made by our food choices. Were the people who helped bring that food to our plates – those who planted it, harvested it, processed or prepared it, and sold it – were they treated with respect and paid a fair wage? What about the animals we eat? Where they treated well during their short time on this earth? Can we be more intentional when it comes to these issues?

Can we be more intentional about our own health and the health of those for whom we are responsible – our own children and the children fed during the school day with our tax dollars. Are we being intentional when it comes to feeding our children or are we sacrificing nutritious and wholesome for fast and cheep? Are we making sure we model good food choices and teach our children to live healthy lifestyles?

Can we be more creative when we choose to change our own lifestyles. I have a friend, for instance, who decided she needed to loose 30 pounds but rather than making it just about her, she decided to outlive her life by garnering support from friends who pledged $1 for each pound she lost to help build sanitary kitchen facilities in poor villages half way around the world. 262 people raised a total of $7,860. Talk about eating, or eating less in this case, for a very intentional reason.

There are lots of other ways we could be more intentional in our food choices in 2011. Most of us will eat over 1,000 meals during this year. Will all of them be intentional, surely not; but could some of them be? In my case, I’m resolving to make more of mine mean something in my own life, in the lives of my children, the life of my community, and in the lives of those far away. If any of you care to join me, perhaps we have a chance of making 2011 the Year of Eating Intentionally.

Visions of Sugarplums

Originally published in quality newspapers the week of December 14, 2010

Year after year carolers insist “bring us some figgy pudding and bring it out here!” Most of us, however, have never had that particular treat but it must be tasty to prompt such a demanding tone during a time of peace on earth. Many families enjoy Christmas Eves besides open fires but few, I imagine, ever actually roast any chestnuts in those fires. Sugarplums dance above the heads of sleeping children and pirouette in the Nutcracker Suite ballet but I’ve never encountered them in the office cookie exchange.

We sing about these foods each year but they have somehow become lost in our modern American holiday traditions. Unfortunately, a few other food traditions seem to stick around. There’s the fruitcake, of course. So many jokes have been written about these things that I won’t try to add to the canon.

One food tradition with which I have some personal history is the apple and orange in the Christmas stocking. “Mom, aren’t these the same pieces of fruit that were on the kitchen counter last night?” In response she explained about the lean years of her girlhood. 

When I was three, my quiet family of three (mom, my sister, and me) became a family of 12 when mom married a widowed Baptist preacher with eight kids of his own. Along with the merging of families came the merging of traditions. One from my new stepfamily was a Christmas Eve beverage made with hot Dr. Pepper and lemon. I can still remember my first sip out of a Christmas mug. It tasted like warm cough syrup. Both the Dr. Pepper and stocking fruit traditions have come to a sketching halt in my branch of the family tree. Lots of others survive, but not these two.

Recently, I decided to resurrect one of the nearly-extinct traditions mentioned in one of those Christmas songs, figuring that if sugarplums are dancing in my children’s heads on Christmas Eve we might as well have a few around the house for us to munch on. 

A little research revealed disagreements about what the sugarplum really is, or was - lots of competing tales and recipes. I ended up adapting a couple of recipes, added my own ideas, and came up with the following recipe. It is not as sweet as most holiday desserts and tastes a bit like a chewy granola bar. In fact as far as sweets go, these are pretty healthy! We might even leave Santa a few on Christmas Eve. I hear Mrs. Claus is concerned about his weight.

 Sugarplums

• 2 cups whole almonds
• 1-1/2 cups dried apricots
• 1-1/2 cups dried plumbs (prunes)
• 2 teaspoons grated orange zest
• 1/3 cup honey
• 1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
• 1/4 teaspoon ground allspice
• 1/4 teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg
• 1 cup confectioners' sugar

Preheat oven to 400. Arrange almonds on a baking sheet in a single layer and toast in oven for ten minutes. Let cool. Add all ingredients, except sugar, to a food processor and pulse to chop and combine, process in two patches if necessary. Pinch off rounded teaspoon-sized pieces of the mixture and roll into balls and dredge balls in sugar. These can be stored and refrigerator in single layers between sheets of wax paper in an airtight container for up to one month. Makes about six dozen.

George-Bailey Moments

Originally published in quality newspapers the week of November 29, 2010

Our family’s list of favorite Christmas movies seems to keep growing and last Thursday, after all the turkey, dressing, and pumpkin pie was settled in our stomachs, we officially kicked off the holiday movie season.

Over the course of the next few weeks we’ll watch classics like Miracle on 34th Street and White Christmas as well as some of the newer offerings like Elf and Jim Carrey’s version of the How the Grinch Stole Christmas.

After the kids are in bed my wife and I will enjoy some our other favorites like the hilarious Christmas Vacation and the touching Love Actually.

On the very top of our list of holiday movies is It’s a Wonderful Life. In 1946, when the film was released, it came and went without much fanfare. Due to a lapse of its copyright in the 1980s, TV stations all over the U.S. began showing it over and over each holiday season. As a result it found a huge audience and it is now as much a part of the modern American Christmas as is Black Friday.

One of the reasons, I think, the movie resonates with so many people is that the character Jimmy Stewart plays, George Bailey, is a sort of Everyman, with whom most of us can identify. We all experience those George-Bailey moments from time to time. Hopefully not the jumping-off-the-bridge moments but the end-of-the-movie moments, when surrounded by his friends and family, George realizes just how wonderful his life really is.

These George Bailey moments sneak up on you. They just show up like a surprise guest, you can’t orchestrate them or purposefully repeat them. One of my distinct George Bailey moments came during a battle with insomnia when I moved to the living room to read a book.

A cold thick blanket of snow was covering our town muffling any sounds from the outside world and when our furnace kicked off, there was absolute silence in our small house.

As I read, my ears picked up the slow, steady sound of breathing coming from the direction of the bedrooms. Upon listening more closely, I realized I was hearing not a single breath but a beautiful three-part harmony – my wife, and two boys, all sleeping peacefully, warm and safe in our home.

That was a George Bailey moment to be sure. I don't know what chemicals got released in my brain, but I was overwhelmed with indescribable sensations, greater than contentment and seemingly even more than love. Not that there had ever been any doubts before or since, but I knew in that moment that I was truly living a wonderful life.

I asked some friends recently about their own George Bailey moments and they knew exactly what I was talking about. One friend recalled Midnight Mass, a wonderfully elaborate service with incense and candles and two choirs. Each churchgoer was handed a simple present -- a green apple for luck -- when walking outside into the decorated downtown with the sounds of church bells ringing and happy chatter of those around him.

Another friend told me about her family’s Christmas Eve tradition of changing into the new jammies the Christmas “elves” leave for them and then snuggling in to watch a Christmas movie.

It seems that these George Bailey moments have the potential to show up more frequently during the holidays but you sort of have to be in tune or you might miss them. So during these next few weeks of hustle and bustle, try to slow down and look for those special moments.

No recipe this week because I thought you might need a break from the Thanksgiving feast. I’ll be back next week with more stories of food, family, and community, and a new recipe for the holidays. In the mean time, I hope you enjoy your wonderful life!