Recipes

As has been my habit in the Thanksgiving issue of the Star, I am again offering a suggestion for the remains of the big bird. Chances are, by the time you read this, much of the white meat, stuffing, gravy, cranberry sauce, sweet potatoes, and pumpkin, mince, or apple pies will have been consumed and you will be contemplating some sort of tetrazzini or a la king.

This is still pumpkin time, so it’s not too late to call your attention to a recipe recommended by Howard and Isot Weissberg of East Hampton.

What does pumpkin taste like? The flavor commonly associated with the flesh of autumn’s orange globe is actually that of the spices traditionally used with it. Ginger is the most noticeable, with heavy helpings of cinnamon, nutmeg, cloves, and allspice. Pumpkin alone is quite bland. Moreover, it can be cast in various other directions.

Fluke are flatfish, a species of Atlantic flounder, also called “summer flounder.” They can weigh in at a pound or so or be heaved aboard in seven to ten-pound sizes. For some reason, fluke were scarce for a few years but that has changed. Fluke fillets may be cooked like sole or flounder. The flesh is moist and sweet. From the larger fish, crosswise slices or steaks, much like halibut, lend themselves to various broilings, bakings and sauteings.

We are not devotees of strawberry ice cream—except when it is freshly made from freshly gathered strawberries. Several years ago I bought one of those small Salton ice cream makers. The idea of not having to fuss with rock salt and ice, of being able to tuck it into the freezer to do its work, appealed to me. A roast or two has to be removed to make room for it but that is not a problem—we're talking about two hours at the most. 

Salads are for globetrotters. Start with the dressings—"French,” “Italian," "Russian,” “Thousand Islands,” even "Roquefort.” The salads themselves are a Baedeker, not a menu. “Nicoise,” fragrant, herbed, to be enjoyed in the summer sunshine.

Artichokes, ancient, wild, Mediterranean thistles, tamed and cultivated, require a commitment on the part of the diner. You may leave your peas or string beans on the plate but you cannot ignore the stunning presence of an artichoke.

Hors d'oeuvres demand attention.

There are two ways in which a pound and a half of boneless beef stew can be made to serve eight. If the meat is really terrible, it might feed even more than eight (unless the diners are too hungry to care). On the other hand, excellent boneless beef, cut into small cubes and simmered in a rich, spicy "Gulyassuppe" will satisfy eight. Simply provide bread, salad, and dessert to round out the meal.

Herewith a casserole of extreme simplicity but terrific flavor, suitable for entertaining the hungry on Saturday or Sunday after Thanksgiving (by which time one has presumably regained one's appetite). Not only will it make use of every last scrap of meat still clinging to the bones, but the very bones themselves can be simmered to make stock for the dish. A final advantage is that it does not come across as poultry particularly, but rather, something hearty and good.

Although very little of what happens in the Hamptons escapes being news, the dunes and bluffs and potato fields manage to hold a few secrets. One of the best kept of these involves the formula for the stuff Frank Tillotson slathered on his ducks as they turned on their spits.

A few herbs, some good oil or but­ter, a tin of anchovies, salty cured black olives from Europe, tins of plain, unadorned whole tomatoes (until our own great ones come along in late July), a chunk of Parmesan — these are a few essentials to keep in the store cupboard and fridge during houseguest season. Pasta, which can be stored indefinitely either frozen or dry, seems to me one of the most suitable and least painful ways of dealing with unplanned meals.

If there is ever an egg season, it occurs now, in early spring. The symbolism of germinating, hatching and rebirth was celebrated by primitive man and embraced by modern religions. The folklore, if not the ritual, of Easter rejoices in the egg. In every Christian nation it becomes an artform, its culinary attributes outdistanced by the spell of talented brush. 

Covered-dish parties, one of East Hampton’s more venerable social institutions, are meant to provide tasty surprises. The hit of one several years ago was Picadillo, a dish provided by a participant born in Cuba. I have been making it ever since.

The cultivated apricot has about the shortest seasons of any fruit. In the colder seasons, the intensified flavor of jams, preserves or the dried fruit is always on hand to enhance pastry, mousses, and bavarians. One delightfully refreshing preparation is apricot sherbet, offering a bright finale to a hearty dinner.

If you are in the mood to make gingerbread cookies, Whimseys offers this excellent recipe.

Bread, pies, and tarts can be frozen until ready to use.

Broccoli puree will not only keep for several days, but could be frozen until ready to use.

A few days' mellowing improves the chutney.

Scallops, broccoli, potatoes, and beach plums pay homage to local bounty which, I believe, is an equally important aspect of the Thanksgiving celebration.

The menu is extensive but only the turkey, squash, and potatoes are prepared from scratch on Thanksgiving Day.

The sweetness of corn is fragile, evanescent. As soon as an ear has been picked, the sugars begin to turn to starch, the flavor palls. Corn is Cinderella as midnight approaches.

Over 400 recipes have been published in “In Season." At least two dozen of them are truly favorites of mine, the dishes I serve to family and guests on a regular basis. Here is a sampling.

Tomatoes were originally grown to be admired rather than consumed. When the tomato was first imported to Europe from the New World by the Spanish conquistadors, it was considered a decorative plant; pretty but inedible, possibly poisonous. And that was long before Florida farmers shipped them green or doused them with pesticides. 

The cultural revolution has come to East Hampton. There was a time, in very recent memory, when Chinese cookery involving ingredi­ents more sophisticated than scal­lions, celery, and soy sauce required a trip to Mott Street. Now, the shop­ping expedition may be only a few miles down the Montauk.

"The season" is upon us now. What sorts of terrific wonders can we suggest instead of the mountains of tender, chilled shrimp, creamy cartwheels of ripe Brie, buckets of tangy dip surrounded by kaleidoscopes of raw vegetables and stacks of crackers and chips, and endless rafts of pink ham slices carefully fanned out and artfully garnished? What new goodies can you offer during the next three months to the parched and ravenous mobs thronging your deck or lawn amid the non-existent clink of disposable plastic glassware?

Carrots are a staple. Available in fairly good condition all year long, at reasonable prices, they evoke little comment. Only a severe shortage and/or outrageous price increase will affect their status. (And you never know.)

A primer on the appreciation and cooking of mushrooms, complete with a favorite pasta recipe where mushrooms play nicely.

Avocados are not one of my favorite foods. Occasionally I find some in a salad I am served. It doesn’t interfere. However, I prefer seafood salad with an artichoke.

At this time of year, when tomatoes and many other fruits or vegetables are lemons, turn to lemons to refresh a tired menu.