You Can't Get the Same Dish
Twice Around Here!
Twice Around Here!
Years ago I had an elderly friend named Mrs. Sherman. She lived in a rural area of West Milford, NJ. Mary was a descendant of an old and prosperous New Bedford whaling family. Her little summer house turned year round residence was stuffed with magnificent 18th and 19th century antique American made furniture. The newest stuff was high style Victorian, and the oldest was late 18th century. Mary's ancestors, to judge from her antique furniture, were very successful at the whaling business! For many years she showed some kind of terriers in confirmation dog shows, but by the time I met her the dogs were just lovely memories.
Mrs. Sherman liked to cook. At one time she'd had a husband of whom she was very fond, but he had passed on before I met her. She used to chat about him and her face would always be smiling when she talked about Bill (I think his name was Bill, this is more than thirty-five years ago.)
Mary liked to cook new recipes. She begged hostesses for recipes for dishes she enjoyed at their homes, cut recipes out of magazines and newspapers, found recipes on the backs of grocery boxes and cans, plucked them from cook books. Mary would buy the ingredients and prepare the recipe. If it was a success she would then put the copy of the recipe in her box of successful recipes and never make it again. If the recipe did not work, Mary would prepare it over and over again, day after day, until she got the recipe just right. Then she would put the recipe annotated with her comments into the "recipes which work" box and never make it again.
She said Bill used to be sad when a recipe turned out perfect the first time because if he liked it, he'd never enjoy the dish again, as Mary would be off testing new recipes. Mary would mimic Bill asking for a repeat on some recipe which he had particularly liked. The she would demonstrate how she would decline his request. Mary thought it was funny! She had absolutely no interest in repeating a successful recipe.
At my house we often don't get repeat dishes for a different reason. A lot of my cooking reminds me of the TV show "Chopped". Instead of a basket I find myself staring at length into the open refrigerator trying to figure out what to do with the disparate odds and ends, just like on the TV show. No matter how successful my creation is, no one photographs me or hands me a check for $10,000, and most likely I can never quite recreate that exact dish again because the planets don't align perfectly and there is NEVER the same exact conglomeration of odds and ends present which need to be used.
One of my favorite ways to use up lots of little dabs of vegetables, pasta and meat is called "All Good things Soup" which was a creation of Barry's Mother, Annie Block.
Annie Block's recipe
for
"All Good Things" soup.
"All Good Things" soup.
This is more a process than an exact recipe;
Annie had a big plastic container in her freezer. At the end of every meal if there was something left over, like a few mashed or fried potatoes, some carrots bits, a few kernels of cooked corn, a little stewed tomatoes, any other cooked vegetables, a slice of meatloaf (she'd cut this up in little bits before adding it to the container), she'd put the meat bits, the vegetables and their cooking water in the container to freeze. When it was full to the top she was ready to make soup.
Annie had a big plastic container in her freezer. At the end of every meal if there was something left over, like a few mashed or fried potatoes, some carrots bits, a few kernels of cooked corn, a little stewed tomatoes, any other cooked vegetables, a slice of meatloaf (she'd cut this up in little bits before adding it to the container), she'd put the meat bits, the vegetables and their cooking water in the container to freeze. When it was full to the top she was ready to make soup.
How to Make Annie Block's "All good things soup".
1. Take the ends and bones from a roast or you can buy a piece tough beef for soup meat and brown it on all sides a little cooking oil. The cheaper and stringier the meat, the more authentic your soup. When Annie’s son Barry talks about this soup he always remarks happily about the “stringy” beef in the soup.
1. Take the ends and bones from a roast or you can buy a piece tough beef for soup meat and brown it on all sides a little cooking oil. The cheaper and stringier the meat, the more authentic your soup. When Annie’s son Barry talks about this soup he always remarks happily about the “stringy” beef in the soup.
I use a pressure
cooker which is fast but you can put the meat, bones, trimmings in a stock pot of water and simmer on low heat partly covered on the back burner of the stove for a few hours as Annie did, until the meat is
tender and falling apart. CHECK LIQUID LEVEL EVERY HALF HOUR AND GIVE THE BROTH A GOOD STIR. IF LIQUID LEVEL DROPS, ADD MORE WATER. Set the covered stockpot outside the house and next day remove the caked fat on top and discard the fat. (Obviously you chill stockpot and contents
outdoors autumn, winter and very early spring in North Jersey!) If you make this soup in warm weather, you have to
chill the contents of the stock pot over night in the refrigerator.
2. Next day, heat until the broth liquefies and remove and cut meat off the bones and chop in small bits. Return meat to liquid in stock pot, discard fat,
gristle and bones.
3. You should have a good size stockpot half filled with the broth, if not enough liquid add water. Add 2 bay leaves, granulated garlic (or cook real garlic with the onions, see below) and a bit of Maggi or Gravy master for color if you like a deeper brown soup.
4. Wash, pick over and pour in a package (1 lb) of dried barley and cook on low in the broth in stock pot until barley is tender and fluffed up in size.
5. As soon as you start broth heating, chop and caramelize in olive oil a couple of large diced onions and some sliced mushrooms if you have them. When really golden brown and flavorful add sauteed onions to stock pot.
7. Chop and caramelize a couple or three big carrots diced 1/4" in olive oil and when deep golden brown add to stockpot. You could cook at same time as the onions if you have a really big cast iron pan to save time.
8. When barley is soft, if you don't have the big container of thawed over night frozen bits of leftover vegetables and chopped up meat scraps, leftover spaghetti and diced leftover meatloaf to add to the stock pot, add a can of canned corn or frozen corn with the liquid, some diced potatoes, diced turnips, canned tomatoes or any combination of vegetables cooked or raw that you wish and cook on medium heat STIRRING FREQUENTLY until all vegetables are tender.
3. You should have a good size stockpot half filled with the broth, if not enough liquid add water. Add 2 bay leaves, granulated garlic (or cook real garlic with the onions, see below) and a bit of Maggi or Gravy master for color if you like a deeper brown soup.
4. Wash, pick over and pour in a package (1 lb) of dried barley and cook on low in the broth in stock pot until barley is tender and fluffed up in size.
5. As soon as you start broth heating, chop and caramelize in olive oil a couple of large diced onions and some sliced mushrooms if you have them. When really golden brown and flavorful add sauteed onions to stock pot.
7. Chop and caramelize a couple or three big carrots diced 1/4" in olive oil and when deep golden brown add to stockpot. You could cook at same time as the onions if you have a really big cast iron pan to save time.
8. When barley is soft, if you don't have the big container of thawed over night frozen bits of leftover vegetables and chopped up meat scraps, leftover spaghetti and diced leftover meatloaf to add to the stock pot, add a can of canned corn or frozen corn with the liquid, some diced potatoes, diced turnips, canned tomatoes or any combination of vegetables cooked or raw that you wish and cook on medium heat STIRRING FREQUENTLY until all vegetables are tender.
9. Serve hot. Very good with
home made corn sticks with honey butter and maybe a little left
over cranberry orange relish (Great Aunt Laura's recipe) for some zip.
At the end of the summer just before frost we put all our excess garden tomatoes individually in the freezer. They freeze over night into something akin to bright red, odd shaped billiard balls, and they are as hard as billiard balls too. After the tomatoes are frozen rock solid they are corralled in a plastic bag When making All Good Things Soup I take out a half a dozen rock hard tomatoes the second day of soup making (the first day the broth is made and chills over night to get the cake of fat to rise to the top for ease in removing every scrap of fat). When the tomatoes thaw in the bowl I rip out the cores and throw the tomatoes and their liquid into stock pot, shredding the tomatoes coarsely by hand.
Annie's process usually ends up making about 6-7 quarts of soup. The cooled, finished soup is put in plastic quart containers. Some is frozen, some is used for dinner and one quart goes to my Mother. Annie Block’s “All Good things” soup is thick, filling, healthy, and very cheap to make. It’s peasant cooking at its best.
At the end of the summer just before frost we put all our excess garden tomatoes individually in the freezer. They freeze over night into something akin to bright red, odd shaped billiard balls, and they are as hard as billiard balls too. After the tomatoes are frozen rock solid they are corralled in a plastic bag When making All Good Things Soup I take out a half a dozen rock hard tomatoes the second day of soup making (the first day the broth is made and chills over night to get the cake of fat to rise to the top for ease in removing every scrap of fat). When the tomatoes thaw in the bowl I rip out the cores and throw the tomatoes and their liquid into stock pot, shredding the tomatoes coarsely by hand.
Annie's process usually ends up making about 6-7 quarts of soup. The cooled, finished soup is put in plastic quart containers. Some is frozen, some is used for dinner and one quart goes to my Mother. Annie Block’s “All Good things” soup is thick, filling, healthy, and very cheap to make. It’s peasant cooking at its best.
This soup got it’s name because people would say to Annie, “What
kind of soup is this?” Annie would invariably
answer, “All good things soup” and that’s how it got its name. When Annie made this soup in summer, and the
garden was full of fresh dill, she would use copious amounts of chopped dill in
the soup, adding the fresh dill just before serving. I don’t know if she thought that it made the
soup taste better, or she was just so overwhelmed with the huge crop of dill
she did it to get rid of some of the dill.
The Blocks were of Eastern European ancestry, Polish, Russian,
Lithuanian, depending upon where the rather fluid borders were the year you
were born in the old country. Those three
countries use a lot of dill in cooking because it does well under harsh conditions. That’s also why they cook a lot of rhubarb, a
fruit which thrives in Siberia where the temperature can get to 70 below Fahrenheit
in winter, and yet in the spring the rhubarb pops up when the weather warms, as
the self seeding dill spreads through the garden.
If you want to serve this for company, a small bowl for a first course, or a large plate of soup for whole meal, you can dress it up by plopping a blob of Greek yogurt in the center of the bowl and sprinkling that with chopped fresh dill or chives. The soup is supposed to be very thick with the vegetables and meat, almost like a stew. The ingredients keep the yogurt from sinking.
