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EILEEN GOUDGE BETH HARBISON ALISON LARKIN MIN JIN LEE MARGARET SARTOR
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FEATURED AUTHOR RECIPES
The recipe here, known as Nannybuns to all who eat them, capture everything that is wonderful about comfort food: they have a touch of sweetness, a fluffiness, a magical deliciousness that immediately brings a sense of well-being to the eater. And comfort food is all about feeling good. Certainly that’s what I wanted from my novel Comfort Food: a lighthearted, upbeat story that looks at family, friendship, and the food that brings us all together. My goal is to make you laugh a little, smile a little, and just enjoy a bit of an escape. When I write stories, I essentially aim to do what Nanny did in her kitchen: To create a fun world where you can put your cares at the door. Getting to know Augusta “Gus” Simpson, the main character in Comfort Food, was a joy for me: Gus is the host of a cooking show – I always feel so good watching food television! – who has focused much of her life on being a nurturer of others. She’s that little bit too perfect, if you know what I mean. But it’s really how she copes with all the stress of her life. And, in the story of Comfort Food, Gus finds herself on a journey of personal discovery and redefinition, spurred on by the arrival of her milestone fiftieth birthday, two twentysomething daughters who keep insisting they’re all grown up, and an ambitious colleague who unexpectedly challenges Gus’s assumptions about her approach to career and self-fulfillment. And throughout Comfort Food, which is set against the backdrop of a reality-television-style live cooking show called Eat Drink and Be, is a celebration of food, of tastes new and familiar, of dishes that that make our mouths happy and our hearts full. At one point, Gus reveals that her favorite comfort food (just like mine!) is her grandmother’s homemade buns, something she’ll never be able to recreate exactly. But a recipe and sweet memories still taste mighty good indeed. And so I give you the never-before-been-shared-outside-the-family Nannybuns. Enjoy! Nanny Buns (Homemade Buns) My grandmother’s recipe as explained by my mother. For the yeast proofing: 1/2 teaspoon sugar For the buns: 1/4 cup sugar For the glaze: 1/4 cup heavy cream 1. To proof the yeast: Whisk sugar and water together in a bowl, then sprinkle yeast over the mixture. Stir to combine. Allow mixture to sit for approximately 7 minutes until frothy. 2. To make the buns: In a large bowl of an electric mixer with beaters, cream sugar and shortening or butter together, on medium speed. Add eggs and mix until incorporated.Remove beaters and place dough hook on mixer. Add 2 cups of the warm water and 2 cups of the flour, and mix until thoroughly combined. Add proofed yeast and mix thoroughly. 3. Add one cup flour and one cup water, and mix at medium speed. Add another cup of flour and one cup of water, mixing again at medium. Add a third cup of flour and cup of water and mix. You will use up all the water but should have flour left over.The dough is ready if it goes around in a circle around the dough hook – it should be fairly stiff and thick but not dry. If it does not circle around the dough hook, then add more flour. 4. Place approximately 1 cup of flour in bottom of large bowl. (You’ll need a big bowl because the dough will double in size). Place dough in the bowl and add 1/2 cup of flour on top of the dough. Knead the dough, adding more flour if necessary so that you can knead without all the dough sticking to your hands. Keep kneading until all flour is incorporated. Form the dough into a ball (it will be slightly sticky).Wash your hands, coat them with a little oil, and oil the ball of dough so that it doesn’t stick to the sides of bowl as it rises. 5. Place the bowl with the oiled ball in an unheated oven (but you can leave the light on). Make sure there are no drafts in the room (because drafts will make the ball collapse.) Let dough sit until it doubles in size, approximately one hour to one hour and twenty minutes. 6. Grease several cookie sheets or 9x13 pans. Remove dough and punch down for a few minutes until all the air is popped out and the dough returns to its original size (knead in a little more flour if the ball is too sticky).Place canola oil in a soup bowl. Shape dough into tennis ball-sized buns and dip into a little oil. Arrange balls on cookie sheets approximately three across and four lengthwise; about a dozen on a full-size cookie sheet. (If you want to make soft-sided buns, let the balls touch in a 9x13 pan.) Place sheets or pans in unheated oven and allow to rise for an hour to an hour and twenty minutes. Remove dough from oven, again making sure there are no drafts in the kitchen. 7. Preheat oven to 375°F. Bake for 20 minutes, or until buns are golden brown and sound hollow when tapped. 8. For the glaze: Mix heavy cream with sugar. Lightly brush mixture on top of the warm buns to give them a nice shine and a little sweetness! Yield: 2 dozen buns
Beth Harbison's
I grew up in the 70’s and 80’s – a time of Shalimar perfume, long (and forgiving) print dresses, Bridge Nights, and lots of foods involving cream cheese or Jell-O. Sometimes both. When I grew up and had kids and my own house, I found that life was different from what my parents had when I grew up. The houses were smaller. But the food was so much better. But we did cook often, and it was always good stuff. Our little block of townhouses in the D.C. suburbs was filled with bartenders and gourmands! Truly not one week would pass that children didn’t cross the parking lot delivering portions of hot Shrimp Diavalo, Butternut Saffron Risotto, Buttermilk Panko Chicken breasts, warm-from-the-oven chocolate macadamia cookies, or something equally tempting to neighbors’ houses. We all sat together at night in the parking lot on summer nights, pulling up grills and folding lawn chairs, laughing, cooking and drinking while the children played and the sky stretched from twilight to the deep purple of midnight. And it was on one of those nights that this recipe was born. A recent Florida transplant to the neighborhood mentioned how much she loved grilled pineapple. I was intrigued. Grilled pineapple? It wasn’t just for breakfast while on vacation in the south? I was willing to try it out. I put a slice on the hot grill, and one taste of that thin edge of caramelized crispiness, complimented with the juicy tropical succulence of the fruit turned me into a believer. And an inventor. What if I paired that sweetness with the heat of, say, wasabi, I wondered. And the crisp bite of red onion. I swear to you I really think that way. All. The. Time. So I tried it. And the resulting recipe, below, is, in my estimation, the finest summer recipe there is. Apart from fresh lemonade, that is (trick: juice the lemons by beating them on low in your KitchenAid mixer). One bite and you are in summer heaven, whether your summer heaven is a beach in Maui, under a palm tree in Key West, the plains of Kansas, or a back yard in New Jersey. Or a tiny postage stamp of a yard in a parking lot for sixteen townhouses in the suburbs of Germantown, Maryland. We’ve all moved on now, to bigger houses, further away. But we (and our kids) still talk regularly and see each other as often as possible. And the food still comes, only now it’s usually just an email. How does this relate to my book, Secrets of a Shoe Addict? That’s easy. Books – more importantly characters – aren’t created from nothing. They come from life, from experience, from friends, and – when you’re lucky – from lots of happy memories. Secrets of a Shoe Addict is about the camaraderie among women, the friendships that face occasionally-stark reality with humor and support. The book takes all the stories we told and heard those boozy/munchie summer nights and turns them into something else, but the feeling of fun and friendship remains. And so does the Pineapple-Shrimp Teriyaki Kabob recipe! Pineapple-Shrimp Teryiaki Kabobs The best skewers for kabobs are ones that are flat instead of round, because it’s easier to flip the kabobs on the grill. If you’re having a salad on the side with this dish, it’s nice to grill extra pineapple and add it to the salad. For the kabobs: Eileen Goudge's
At one point in the novel, Abigail prepares miniature cranberry mascarpone tarts for an appearance on a morning TV show, for a segment on holiday entertaining. Since Domestic Affairs debuts in summer, I’m giving you a variation of that recipe, using strawberries instead, for just one large tart. The result is spectacular – gorgeous to look at and equally delicious. It’s also easy to transport, if you’re making it for a picnic. And the Oreo crust, combined with the strawberries, is a taste treat you won’t soon forget. I make it every year around this time when strawberries are in peak season. I try to get local strawberries, which are sweeter, having been allowed to ripen on the stem. The quality of the strawberries makes all the difference, though good strawberries in season from the supermarket will work fine as well. Make this for company and your guests will be raving about it for years to come! Note: To make the crust, I strongly recommend using Oreos for their distinctive taste that is unmatched by other chocolate sandwich cookies. For easy hulling of strawberries, try this trick: Push a plastic straw through the tip of each strawberry and up through the stem end. The core and leafy top are removed in one quick thrust. For the crust: 27 chocolate sandwich cookies, such as Oreos For the filling: 1 pound mascarpone cheese, at room temperature (see Note) For the topping: About 2 cups hulled and sliced strawberries, the freshest and sweetest available (see Note) Preheat the oven to 325 degrees Fahrenheit. Place an ungreased baking sheet on the lowest rack in the oven. In a food processor, process the cookies to a fine crumb (the consistency of sand). In a small bowl, combine the finely ground cookie crumbs and melted butter. Press over the bottom and sides of an ungreased 11-inch tart pan with a removable base. Chill. Place the softened mascarpone, honey and vanilla in a medium bowl and beat with an electric mixer at medium speed until smooth. Add the eggs one at a time, beating well after each addition. Blend in the flour and salt. Pour into the chilled crust. Place on the baking sheet in the oven and bake for about 30 minutes, or until just set. The center should jiggle slightly when pan is gently shaken. (Be careful not to overbake!) Cool at room temperature for 30 minutes. Place in the refrigerator and chill for at least 1 hour. Shortly before serving: Lift base with tart out of the rim. Arrange sliced strawberries over the top in a pinwheel pattern, slightly overlapping the slices. In a small, microwavable bowl, combine the strawberry preserves with 3 tablespoons of water. Cover and heat in the microwave for 1 to 1½ minutes. (Alternate method: Place preserves and water in a small pan and cook over low heat, stirring constantly, until softened.) Strain through a wire mesh sieve, pushing with the back of a spoon to extract as much liquid as possible. Discard the pulp. Stir in the food coloring. Gently dab mixture over the strawberries with a pastry brush. Chill until ready to serve. Yield: 1 11-inch tart, 12-15 servings Min Jin Lee's
I like Ella very much. She is a classic good girl, and through all of life’s unfairness, she fights to be an ethical person. I think that is not easy to do. On the day Casey learns that her ex-fiance is going to marry another woman, Ella has fortuitously baked her scones. (Book II, Chapter 12, p. 309). This recipe is adapted from The Vegetarian Epicure by Anna Thomas. It was a cookbook given to me by my college roommate Germaine Netzband twenty years ago on my 19th birthday. I don’t think I have seen her in as much time, but I still think of her fondly whenever I use this book. This is neither a sweet scone recipe nor a savory one. However, I have baked these traditional scones for English friends who have approved heartily. They usually prefer currants, and I like the dried cherries or dried apricots, too. If you can find some clotted cream, do treat yourself. I am admittedly an occasional glutton for such luxuries.So, now, I am going to imagine you and your friends tucking into piles of hearty curried chicken sandwiches cut into triangles, warm scones slathered with clotted cream and spoonfuls of jam, and of course, wedges of iced cake to finish. There isn’t much in the world preferable to a nourishing tea with friends and books. I hope your large plate is brimming, well balanced on your knee, and your napkin handy. I am raising my tea mug to you, and I say cheers. Have a second helping of clotted cream for me.
1 cup buttermilk
Like my heroine, Pippa Dunn, I have found home made marmalade on toast and a cup of tea to be the perfect repast when I am wide awake in the middle of the English night after a long flight from America. Here’s a passage taken from Chapter 45 of The English American, when my heroine Pippa leaves the chaos of her life in New York and comes home to visit her parents for a week. Although for Pippa, everything has changed, for her English parents, who live in a house built in 1470 near the town of Peaseminster, life goes on much as before. Thanks to jet lag, I’m awake at four o’clock in the morning, so I go downstairs to make myself some more toast and a cup of tea. Boris is lying in his dog basket under the kitchen table, but gets up, tail beating against the kitchen floor as I feed him some of my toast and Dad’s homemade marmalade. The pink and yellow pottery mugs from Greece are still hanging from the hooks under the kitchen cabinet next to the window. The tartan drying-up cloth is still folded over the rail by the sink. The white electric kettle is still in the same place, next to the tin of Earl Grey tea. The yellow ceramic pot with SUGAR written on it is still next to the slightly larger pot with FLOUR written on it in the same lettering. Mum’s new Too Hot to Handel oven gloves are hanging where her blue and white checked ones used to hang, on the hook next to the oven. The plastic rotary in the cupboard is still home to the salt and pepper holders, the Ryvita, the marmalade, the honey, and probably the same jar of Marmite I ate from before I went to America. Yes. Everything is still here. Reassured, I kiss Boris good night and head back upstairs to my room. You can find clear instructions on how not to make a cup of tea on page 94 of The English American: Billie makes us all a cup of tea. The American way. Which means she sticks three coffee mugs half full of water in the microwave for thirty seconds. Then she dunks the same Lipton tea bag in all three mugs until a nasty brown swirl appears. Then she adds a squidge of lemon and tells us to “come and get it." You can find instructions on how to make a cup of tea on page 95 of The English American – or better still, you can use this recipe from The Ritz Hotel in London. I would be thrilled to hear from book club members who find themselves chatting about my book over a pot tea, served with marmalade on toast!!
This recipe was inspired by Helen Simpson’s recipe for tea in the The London Ritz Book of Afternoon Tea (William Morrow, 1986). Put the kettle on and, just before it comes to the boil, pour a generous dash of the hot water into your teapot (glazed china or earthenware ideally), swirling it round and round inside the pot before pouring it away. (Warming the pot is not a meaningless ritual, but ensures that the water stays at boiling point when it hits the tea, encouraging the proper opening of the leaves.) Dole out one heaped teaspoon of tea leaves – Earl Grey, Lapsang, Assam, Ceylon, Jasmine or Darjeeling – one for each person and one for the pot, straight into the warmed teapot. The kettle will have reached a galloping boil by this time, so pour the water over the tea. Take care that the water is not long boiling; over boiled water results in a bitter muddy brew of tea. Allow the tea to stand and brew for anything from three to six minutes. Give the tea a good stir and pour it, using a strainer to catch leaves. If you take your tea with milk, you should add it to the cup, cold and fresh, before pouring the tea. Toast is toast is toast. Although I prefer thin toast. And if you’re making toast and marmalade, do be sure to put a little butter or margarine on first. Here’s my Dad’s recipe for homemade marmalade. 2 navel oranges Rinse oranges under hot water. Quarter lengthwise, and slice crosswise as thinly as possible. Place orange slices, orange juice, lemon juice and 6 cups of water in a large saucepan over medium high heat. Bring mixture to a boil, reduce heat and simmer until orange peels are translucent and tender, about 1 1/2 hours. Add sugar and return to a boil, stirring constantly until sugar is dissolved. Continue cooking, skimming foam off the surface and stirring frequently for approximately half an hour. Place a little bit of marmalade onto a chilled plate. Allow to cool. If the marmalade wrinkles when you press the mixture, it has set. If it’s still runny, continue cooking until mixture is set. Allow to cool and put in jars marked "marmalade."
Margaret Sartor's
My mother wasn’t to excited by cooking when I was growing up. Or, to put it more accurately, she never relished hours in the kitchen because there was always plenty else to do. As an artist and mother of five, Mama was a whiz of creativity and endearing distraction at almost everything she did, from cooking to housecleaning to painting portraits of local preachers and bank presidents. My sisters, brother and I share the fond memory of an oft-repeated scene: my mother jumping up from her chair in panic at the first whiff of burning breakfast toast or dinner rolls and my father responding without a touch of irony: “It’s fine, Bobbie Sue. I like it better that way.” Like most people in Louisiana, my family loved to eat. My grandmother Momma Doll made mouth-watering chicken dumplings from scratch and my sister Stella baked bread. Because my father was much beloved physician, folks were always bringing over paper sacks full of fresh peas and beans. I regularly ate homemade crabapple jelly and fig preserves, crawfish, meat pie, biscuits and gumbo. When the pantry ran low, Mama relied on Hamburger Helper, which she considered a truly nifty invention -- not unlike iron-on patches or the vacuum cleaner -- for rescuing busy homemakers. As a teenager in the 1970s, I thought “homemade” instant food far more fun than rolling dumpling dough and experimented with the likes of cool whip and instant Tang. During the hot Louisiana summers, a 7Up pie was a delight on a par with “coke floats.” (If you don’t know that one, it’s simple. Pour cold coca-cola into a large glass filled with vanilla ice cream. Heaven.) I’m pretty sure that hot spiced tea remains a standard comfort food for winter days in the deep South. My friends and I made it in big batches. We poured it into Mason jars and tied ribbons around the lids. With hand-decorated labels, these made great holiday gifts. They still do. Like my diaries, these recipes contain memories. I’ve pulled them from the attic detritus of my past and share them here because they evoke the salad days of my youth -- some of the tastiest ones. Adapted from The Cotton Country Collection, published by the Monroe, Louisiana Junior Charity League (1972) 1 cup sugar In a medium saucepan, combine sugar, cornstarch, lemon-lime flavored
soda, and food coloring. Simmer over medium heat until mixture thickens,
approximately ten minutes. Allow to cool. Add strawberries, stir to coat, and pour mixture into baked pie shell. Top with nondairy whipped topping, if using, and chill well for several hours before serving. If using whipped cream, first chill the filled pie shell for several hours, then top with whipped cream before serving. Yield: 1 9-inch pie, 6 to 8 servings This tea may also be served cold. 1/2 cup sweetened iced tea mix powder Combine all ingredients in a mixing bowl. For each serving, place 2 to 3 rounded teaspoons of the mixture into a mug and add very hot water. Stir until mixture dissolves. Yield: Approximately 25 servings
There aren’t any won tons in Peony in Love, but there are plenty of other types of dumplings. You can make the won tons before the book group meeting or you can make rolling them and cooking them an activity to do together. We’ve always made won tons in my family. On Thanksgiving in my family,everyone rolls their own won tons. We have a lot of fun, everyone gets their fingers messy, and we come up with some odd shapes. Not to worry though. As long as the won ton is properly sealed, it will cook up just fine. You can add anything you want to the filling—chopped Chinese mushrooms or garlic, for example—but these are my favorite ingredients. I love fresh ginger and the crunch of the water chestnuts. Also, if you have extra won tons, you can always make won ton soup. For won ton soup, boil the won tons for a couple of minutes to wash away the flour, drain, and then add them to your soup just before serving. Lisa See's Won Tons Notes: You can serve won tons hot or at room temperature. Won tons also travel well as long as you don't put them in a sealed container. I put them loose in a brown paper grocery bag lined on the bottom with a few paper towels. This helps to soak up any extra oil, keeps the won tons from getting soggy, and you don't have to wash your traveling container! For an additional dipping option, you can serve ready-made sweet and sour sauce. For the won tons: For the dipping sauce: To make the filling: In a medium bowl, combine pork, shrimp,
water chestnuts, scallions, ginger, and soy sauce. To assemble the won tons: Place won ton wrapper in front of you so that a corner is facing in your direction. Place about a teaspoon of the filling in that corner. Roll this corner toward the middle. Moisten the side corners with a drop of the egg mixture and fold those two ends together to lock the won ton in place. There should be a single layer of won ton skin that curls out the back, like a jaunty scarf. Make sure the filling is sealed inside or the won tons will fall apart during cooking. At this point you can store the won tons in the refrigerator until cooking. When storing, make sure the won tons don’t touch each other or they’ll stick together. To make the dipping sauce: Combine ingredients in a small bowl. To fry the wontons: Pour 1 to 2 inches of oil into a pot or deep-sided skillet. Heat oil over medium heat. Test the oil temperature by tearing off pieces of one won ton wrapper and dropping them in the oil. The wrapper should turn brown quickly but not get too dark. Fry a few won tons at a time in a single layer until golden and crispy. Make sure they don’t touch each other, and use tongs to flip them. Don’t overcook! Drain on paper towels. Serve with dipping sauce. Yield: Approximately 48 won tons
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