blog archive for September 2008

Almost everyone has heard the name Julia Child, but mention Simone “Simca” Beck, and you’re likely to get a blank stare. Beck, along with Louisette Bertholle and Julia Child wrote the first volume of Mastering the Art of French Cooking, the work that gave American cooks the confidence to march into their kitchens and make fricassee de poulet a l’estragon and gateau a l’orange. 

In 1972, four years after the mighty Mastering the Art of French Cooking was published, Beck wrote her own book, Simca’s Cuisine. It’s a collection of menus and recipes for everything from a chic little lunch to an Alsatian family dinner. Granted, not everyone wants help putting on chic lunches and hunt breakfasts, but there’s another side to the book that makes it a friend to home cooks.

Scattered throughout Simca’s Cuisine are trucs (culinary secrets) and conseils (advice) that Beck picked up from years of cooking. Her trucs can make the difference between a good dish and a really extraordinary one, and her conseils can help cooks organize and prepare ahead. For example, to enhance the flavor of coffee, add a pinch of salt with the boiling water and to give the aroma of garlic to a dish that’s been cooked with garlic, add more garlic towards the end of cooking.

Which brings me to a few of the little tricks I’ve learned along the way. I can’t honestly say they transform my cooking from ho-hum to over-the-top, but they bring it up a notch. For instance:

When making crusts for dessert pies, I add two tablespoons sugar to the flour and when the crust is for savory pies, I add two tablespoons Parmigiano cheese.

If the pie filling has eggs, I beat the eggs before adding other ingredients and brush the pastry rim with a few teaspoons of beaten egg to give it a nice glaze.

For potato salads and cole slaws, I whisk a couple of tablespoons of bottled blue cheese or ranch dressing into the mayonnaise to perk up the flavor.

I add a pinch of nutmeg to practically everything I cook with spinach or eggs.

I try never to forget to add a little brown sugar to tomato sauces.

If the cookie jar isn’t empty, I refrigerate cookie dough overnight before baking cookies.  (Invariably, my husband says they taste better and asks if I did anything different. “Just one of my tricks,” I say.)

I haven’t eaten out lately but from what I hear, restaurants — like the rest of us — are doing whatever they can to save money. Bread baskets are no longer overflowing, portions are smaller, and chefs are using less expensive shiitake mushrooms instead of pricey morels. Restauranteurs call it cash flow or “eye on the bottom line,” but let’s face it, they’re strapped like the rest of us.

Although I’ve always been a frugal cook, I still keep track of my expenses. Like lots of people, I check flyers for specials and when something I like is on sale, I load up. I learned the hard way that just because something is cheap is not reason enough to buy it. In my cupboard, there are three jars of jalapeno olives that will probably never make it to the table.
Store brands are another way to cut down on expenses, but only if you’re happy with the product. I never realized how many different labels were on the same soup until there was a recall years ago and the manufacturer listed all the brands that were involved. Some store brands are better than others — buy one, try it, and then decide whether to stock up.   

That said, there are some things I will not change.  For instance, I buy premium coffee because I love it and can’t bring myself to start the day without it. 

I’ve always saved money by cutting out the middleman. I never buy washed lettuce, sliced mushrooms or baby carrots. It seems ridiculous to pay someone else to shred cabbage for cole slaw, peel Butternut squash or grate cheese.

I use every last scrap of food possible and am neurotic about freezing anything freezable, which is why, in my freezer there are three rinds of Parmigiano-Reggiano I’ve been meaning to add to a pot of minestrone. I know  I’ll use them eventually, because the alternative is to buy a chunk of Parmigiano just for the rind, which a frugal cook would never do.

The Boston Globe reported recently that Julia Child’s house is for sale — for a cool $4.35 million. Before jumping in with a bid, you should understand the house doesn’t include the kitchen with Julia’s big Garland stove and the famous peg board her husband, Paul, put up in the kitchen with tracings of her pots so she’d know where to hang them; they’ve all been shipped to the Smithsonian.

Still, it’s a great place. It’s in Cambridge, Mass., practically on the Harvard campus and within walking distance of the places where Julia might have done her grocery shopping. If you’re anything of a name dropper, you can let the people behind the counter know that whatever it is you’re buying is going straight to Julia’s kitchen.

Also, it’s a terrific house for entertaining. With a double parlor and plenty of open space, it’s perfect for guests to move around with drinks in their hands. For guests with other things on their minds, the realtor lists “more private areas with cozy nooks.”

The only downside is the basement isn’t heated, but I can practically guarantee if you ask around, you’ll have no trouble finding someone who’ll be happy to come over and give you an estimate for putting in heat.   

For culinary history buffs who’ve never been impressed with the idea of spending the night in the Lincoln bedroom in the White House, the chance to sleep in the Child master suite might be all you need to give the realtor a call.

I’ll probably never know what made me grab the bottle of smoked barbecue sauce (Kraft Hickory Smoke Barbecue Sauce, to be exact) out of the fridge, but it was one of those last minute moves that has turned into an end-of-summer house special.       

On the stove was a pan of sauteed green beans, nicely browned and tender, but crying out for seasoning. There was no time for chopping herbs, toasting nuts or stirring sauce. The barbecue sauce was the first thing I saw when I opened the refrigerator door; I gave it a shake, drizzled a little over the beans and gave them a toss. In a split second I turned the beans into smoked veggies — no grill marks, but no grill to heat or scrape clean either, and a great smoky taste. 

Since then I’ve worked the same magic with mushrooms and onions, and last night it was broccoli. As I ease my way into fall, the culinary part of my brain is buzzing with other possibilities — asparagus, potatoes, Brussels sprouts. The important thing is not to overdo the sauce. Once you see how little it takes to give the taste you’re after, you can pour it straight out of the bottle.

For smoky broccoli: heat a tablespoon of oil in a large nonstick skillet coated with cooking spray. Add about a pound of bite-size broccoli florets with short stems. Cover and cook over medium-high heat, mixing occasionally, until broccoli is tender, about 7 minutes. Drizzle a scant tablespoon of smoke barbecue sauce over the top (not all the veggies will be covered) and mix with a large spoon. Makes 2 to 4 servings.