Category: family

Creating meals from leftovers brings me tremendous satisfaction. Neither Mike nor I enjoy eating leftovers because we like variety and lack a microwave are spoiled rotten food snobs. (I will say, however, that our privileged palates have been humbled somewhat by the arrival of Miss Lucy. We are learning that when you’re exhausted and it’s late and you have to work the next day and your baby may wake up wailing at any moment, leftovers are not beneath you. Neither are scrambled eggs, takeout, or cold cereal.) And although I dislike leftovers, I despise wasting food. I cringe, feeling guilty and incompetent, as I toss wilting vegetables and week-old spaghetti into the smirking maw of the compost pail or, worse, the trash can. So, when the guilt is too strong, I summon the creativity that survives in me, somehow, suppressed as it is by worry and perfectionism, and make a game of transformation, turning leftovers–presto, change-o!–into something new and tasty. It brings me such joy and makes me feel a little like Harry Potter.

One of my best tricks is homemade pizza. You can put almost anything on pizza crust, blanket it with mozzarella, and have yourself something really good for dinner. The other night I did just that, combining mushrooms, peppers, and slivers of red onion with some slightly gray coppa salami that had been loitering in the meats-and-cheeses drawer of the refrigerator. And even though I knocked my prep bowl of finely chopped herbs and garlic on the floor and had to use garlic powder and dried herbs on the crust instead, even though I accidentally sprinkled the crust with dry mustard instead of that garlic powder and then had to scrape it off, cursing, the pizza turned out great.

I found a no-yeast crust recipe a few years ago and have been using it ever since. The flavor and texture are more like flatbread than pizza crust, but the dough is quick and easy to make, so it works well for weeknights.

No-yeast Pizza Crust
adapted from bettycrocker.com

You will need:
1 1/3 cups all-purpose flour
1/2 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp kosher salt
1/2 cup milk
2 tbsp olive oil

Preheat oven to 400º. Mix together dry ingredients. Stir in milk and oil to form a soft, sticky dough. You can add a touch more milk if the dough is too dry. Knead dough 10 times on a floured surface. Cover it with a bowl and let it rest at least 10 minutes. Flatten the dough slightly on an ungreased cookie sheet and then roll it out to a 12″ round. Try, at least–my crusts always come out oblong because the shape fits my cookie sheet better. I like to think it looks more rustic that way.

Bake the crust without toppings for 8-10 minutes. It will puff up and turn lightly golden. The puffiness will deflate, but if it bothers you, poke some holes in the dough with a fork before you bake it. Top the pre-baked crust with your choice of sauce, cheese, meat, vegetables, whatever, and bake at 400º for 25 more minutes or so. You’ll know it’s ready when the edges of the crust are golden and your cheese is bubbling and starting to brown. Cool slightly, sprinkle all over with grated parmesan, slice, and serve.

Some notes on sauce and toppings:
Because this crust is so light and thin, I like to brush it with olive oil and sprinkle it with chopped herbs and garlic. Traditional tomato sauce works, too, as long as you don’t smear it on too thickly. Some of my favorite topping combinations are:

chicken + zucchini + red onion
sausage + kale + mushroom
prosciutto + arugula + provolone
salami + mushroom
tomato + basil

I love Thanksgiving. I always have. I love spending a whole day in the kitchen and the way the house smells like turkey at 9 in the morning. I love having the parade/dog show/football on TV in the background as the day progresses. (I actually hate the parade, especially the musical numbers. It is part of the story of the day, though, so I am fond of the idea of it.) I love making hand turkeys to put on the wall and setting the table with flowers and candles. Even though some (most) Thanksgivings, I end up sweaty, crabby, and covered in flour by the time we are actually ready to eat, every year I look forward to all of it: to the prepping, cooking, stirring, baking, drinking, displaying, chatting, laughing, Scrabble playing, and finally, the feasting.

Lucy’s first Thanksgiving was two days ago. We ended up celebrating in mostly non-traditional fashion, walking to my in-laws’ house for midday ham and green-bean casserole and then heading home to cook and eat late-night roasted chicken and potatoes. My family was away, visiting my collegiate sister in Arizona. It was a different year; fitting, maybe, because having a new baby makes everything different. And though it was strange and a little sad to skip the familiar experience in my mom’s kitchen, a song I know so well, it also felt good to do our own thing. We are starting our own rituals as a young family, building on what we know and making new traditions as we go.

And yet! No matter what traditions we start for ourselves, there will always, always be apple pie at Thanksgiving. I know I promised a covered dish when last we spoke, but trust me: this pie is so much better.

I have been making apple pie for Thanksgiving for as long as I can remember. I am pretty awesome at making apple pie. In fact, Mike claims it was my apple pie that won his heart 9 years ago. This year’s pie might have been my best ever. I tried out a new crust recipe and a new apple combination for the filling, and it was perfect.

Apple Pie
adapted from the Betty Crocker cookbook

You will need:

2 pre-made, all-butter pie crusts
I doubled this recipe from Elise Bauer at Simply Recipes. Don’t forget to increase the sugar amount per the instructions for a sweet preparation. Also, this recipe only makes one crust so make sure you double it. This crust was delicate, temperamental, and ugly. It was also perfectly flaky and had great flavor. I am something of a crust snob, and this recipe makes some of the best I’ve had. It’s my new go-to crust.

8 tart, firm-fleshed apples. I used Pink Lady apples, with a couple of Fujis thrown in for sweetness. Granny Smiths are traditional. Gravensteins would be sublime, if you can find them.
1/2 cup white sugar
1/2 cup brown sugar
1/4 cup flour
1 tsp cinnamon
1/2 tsp nutmeg (freshly grated if you have it)
1/4 tsp ground cloves
Pinch salt

Preheat oven to 425º. Peel and core the apples. Slice them very thinly, as thinly as you can. This is important! If you cut the apples into thick chunks, they won’t cook all the way through. Thin slices give you soft layers of cooked apples and maximize surface area for flavor to cling to.

Put the apples in a large mixing bowl. Add the sugars, flour, spices, and salt to the apples and mix carefully, using a folding motion. Try to avoid breaking the apple slices. The sugars will dissolve in the juice from the apples, leaving a beautiful, cider-flavored syrup coating each slice. Let the apples hang out and get juicy while you roll out the pie crusts.

Line a 10-inch pie plate with one rolled-out crust. Pour in the apple filling. Cover the filling with the other crust. I like to use a whole crust, but a lattice on top would be pretty, too. Seal and flute the edges. Cut several slits in the top crust to allow the filling to vent while baking. Cover the edges of the crust with aluminum foil. Lightly sprinkle sugar over the top of the pie. Bake for 30 minutes. Remove the foil and bake for 15 additional minutes to cook the edges. Allow the pie to cool slightly before serving it. Apple pie is delicious at room temperature, but even better warm with vanilla ice cream. It is also good with coffee for breakfast the next day.