Uncle Ralph's Special

Monday was Matt’s 25th birthday. How time is flying by.

It all started with a 17-year-old whose greatest cares were Bellevue High football games, snowboarding, homework, and curfews. Now married, with a [rather large] dog, an interesting job, a fantastic apartment in LA, and surrounded by the best of friends, I am incredulous at how fast it has gone.

We debated what to do and where to go for his birthday, and I couldn’t help but smile when Matt suggested staying home and making Uncle Ralph’s Special. I love that when Matt mentioned this dish, I thought of summery days full of croquet, crab feeds and people who would years later become family.

Uncle Ralph is Matt’s 80-something great-uncle: a man who spends those summery family-reunion days in a rocking chair on the round covered porch, knitting and talking fashion with the ladies. He is perhaps the most popular member at the annual family reunions, and definitely one of the best cooks.

During Matt’s childhood, this dinner was a special occasion. A dinner for Matt and his mom while his dad was away. Ironic, since this dinner originates out of the Depression as an inexpensive and filling meal. Matt’s rendition of Uncle Ralph’s Special contains significantly more bacon than the original—but what favorite of Matt’s ever contains less than double the recommended amount of meat?

Tanti auguri, darling.

Uncle Ralph’s Special
(with Matt's updates)

1 lb. small shell pasta
2 cans Cambell's tomato soup
1/2 pound bacon, roughly diced
1 onion (yellow or sweet), diced

Bring a large pot of water to a rolling boil. Add pasta, cook according to package directions.

While the pasta cooks, cook the bacon over medium-high heat for 2-3 minutes. Add the onions. Cook until the bacon is crispy and the onions are tender. Drain and discard the grease.

Drain the pasta -- do not rinse. In a large bowl, combine the pasta, tomato soup and bacon mixture. Stir until combined. Serve hot.

Serves 1-4, depending on if Matt is at your table or not.

On comfort food and Sloppy Joes

Whether for comfort in hard times or for reflection during the great times, sometimes we all need a reminder of times past. It is believed that the sense of smell is most closely linked to memory, which I believe is why certain foods become “comfort foods”. The smell of the food directly links the participant to a memory involving that meal.

For myself, comfort foods range anywhere from my dad’s Famous French Toast, to Stouffer’s Macaroni and Cheese dipped in applesauce, to hot spiced cider; each food evoking a series of different memories. Recently my cravings have been leaning towards those dishes that my mom would prepare on weeknights, with Sloppy Joes leading the way.

I have tried to figure out which memory(ies) are tied to Sloppy Joes, but have met little success. The only thing that comes to mind is sitting at our kitchen table, kicking my little legs that never would reach the ground, and happily smacking my lips as I devoured my plateful of messy goodness. I tend to have a photogenic memory, with only snapshots of past events. To remember the happy feeling of sitting with my family and just enjoying dinner is very comforting.

And so it came about that I found myself in the kitchen last night, preparing seven platefuls of Sloppy Joes for my dear friends of TND. They turned out delicious, sweet and tangy, and messy as ever. Paired with potato salad, a simple salad of greens, gourmet beer (honestly) and for dessert, warm brownies topped with vanilla ice cream, the dinner was more gourmet than I anticipated. And it certainly gave me new memories to associate with Sloppy Joes.

Enjoy.

Sloppy Joes
(adapted from Rachel Ray’s 30-Minute Meals)

1 T extra-virgin olive oil
1 1/4 lb ground beef sirloin
1/4 C brown sugar
1 T steak seasoning blend
1 medium onion, chopped
1 small red bell pepper, chopped
1 T red wine vinegar
1 T Worcestershire sauce
2 C tomato sauce
2 T tomato paste
4 large soft rolls, split and toasted

Heat a large skillet over medium high heat. Add oil and meat to the pan. In a separate bowl, combine brown sugar and steak seasoning. Using a wooden spoon, break up the meat and add sugar-spice mixture to the meat. When the meat has browned, add onion and red peppers to the skillet. Reduce heat to medium, add the red wine vinegar and Worcestershire sauce and cook for 5 minutes. Add tomato sauce and paste to pan, stirring to combine. Reduce heat to simmer and cook Sloppy Joe mixture 5 minutes longer.

Place each toasted bun bottom on its own plate and top with a large spoonful of Sloppy Joe mixture. Top with the toasted bun top and serve warm.

Yield: 4 servings

Brownies a la Orangette

I took a personality-career matching test the other day to try and figure out what I should do with my life. After a series of about 75 questions, the results came back: "You are a Persuader". AHA! A Persuader! Of course! Of all the things I have always known about myself, the most obvious is my ability to persuade people to see my view of things as absolute truth. A very useful skill, yes, when used on other people; however it is often quite detrimental when used on myself. I can gracefully justify any decision to any direction and this often gets me into a fair bit of trouble.

Yesterday proved no different as I found myself persuading myself to turn to the dark side. Of chocolate, that is. With several chunks of best-quality chocolate complaining of neglect in my cupboard, making brownies became the obvious best-use of my day off. Forgetting about the cleaning, decorating, or getting that tan that I so desperately need, I threw myself into research mode to find the perfect brownie recipe. After only a few minutes I found it, a recipe for more fudge- than cake-like brownies posted by Orangette.

Seeing as Matt was not given the day off and would be returning home from an extremely long day only to turn around quickly and head off to the studio to record more of Black Molly's upcoming album, I had to get the brownies done. STAT.

The results of this persuasion were outstanding. I changed Orangette's recipe only slightly, as I had only dark chocolate and semi-sweet chocolate on hand, so I used less sugar to compensate. These were incredibly rich and oozing of fudgy deliciousness.

Perhaps I will become a persuasive baker.

Adapted Ever-So-Slightly From Orangette: The Archetypal Brownie
or, as the book calls them, Best-Ever Brownies
Adapted slightly from Baking with Julia; contributing baker: Rick Katz

1 1/4 cups unbleached all-purpose flour
1 tsp salt
2 sticks (8 ounces) unsalted butter
4 ounces best-quality semi-sweet chocolate, coarsely chopped
2 ounces best-quality dark chocolate, coarsely chopped
1 1/2 cups granulated sugar
1 tsp pure vanilla extract
4 large eggs

Center a rack in the oven, and preheat the oven to 350 degrees.

In a small bowl, whisk together the flour and salt; set aside.

Melt the butter and the chocolate together in a heat-proof bowl set over a saucepan of simmering water--make sure the bowl does not actually touch the water-- stirring frequently. When the chocolate and butter are both melted and smooth, add a 1/2 cup of the sugar to the mixture, and stir it for 30 seconds; then remove the mixture from the heat, and stir in the vanilla extract. Pour the mixture into a large bowl.

Put the remaining 1 cup sugar and the eggs into a medium bowl, and whisk by hand to combine. Little by little, pour half of the sugar and eggs into the chocolate mixture, stirring gently but constantly with a rubber spatula so that the eggs don’t scramble from the heat.

Beat the remaining sugar and eggs on medium speed until they are thick, pale, and doubled in volume, about 3 minutes. Using the rubber spatula, gently fold the whipped eggs and sugar into the chocolate mixture. When the eggs are almost completely incorporated, gently fold in the dry ingredients.

Pour and scrape the batter into an unbuttered 8-inch square pan (I’ve found a heavy nonstick metal brownie pan to be ideal, although the original recipe recommends ceramic or glass). Bake the brownies for 25-28 minutes, during which time they will rise a bit and the top will turn dry and a bit crackly. After 23 minutes, stick a knife or toothpick into the center to see how they are progressing. They should be just barely set—not too raw, but still fairly gooey (mine took 30 minutes and were still a bit undercooked). Cool the brownies in the pan on a rack. When they’re completely cool, cut them into rectangular bars to serve.

These brownies will keep, at room temperature or refrigerated, for 2-3 days. I like to reheat them and serve topped with a scoop of vanilla ice cream or alongside a shot glass of milk (I find this the perfect ratio of amount of milk to brownie).