Saturday, April 1, 2017

The Church Cookbooks of New York: Part 5: 6# Fudge (Velveeta), "The Heart of Adirondack Cooking" First Presbyterian Church, Warrensburg, NY, 1988



Part 2:  "Hot Damn," "Sharing Our Best" - Chemung ARC, Elmira, 1996
Part 2.5: Steamed Chickent "From Ridgewood Kitchens," West Side Presbyterian Church, Ridgewood, NJ, 1945

Here we have this lovely little number out of Warrensburg.



Something that makes me laugh about this book is how half of the recipes are attributed in the title to someone other than the person who is listed as the contributor. It's as if folks were afraid of being thought to have taken credit for a recipe that belonged to someone else... Thieving Grandma Branch's pickle recipe and accepting the undeserved laurels would be a hanging offense. How absolutely typical of my stodgy Upstate countrymen. 



Check the below recipe out. This is why I am in the church cookbook collecting business. The recipe isn't really a revelation. However, it speaks to the fact that once and a while you can turn up fragments of local cooking lore in these recipe collections. A no-name recipe that was found on a scrap of paper in a book...


Anyhow, the recipe I decided to experiment with is the below.


Here we have "6# Fudge." 

Now, I am no especial fan of fudge. I have barely any sweet tooth. But a fudge recipe wherein the very first ingredient is Velveeta? Where do I sign up.

I'm no stranger to fudge involving cheese. The Herkimer County Cheese Co. (maker of my beloved Xmas Cheese Balls) makes a cheddar cheese fudge which I have sampled. However, the dark arts involved in actually producing the stuff interested me enough to give it a go.

So I assembled my 6 pounds of stuff.

A pound of Velveeta.


A pound of margarine (shudder... I hate margarine).


Melted these two up together.


And then I had a little help from my junior mixing the molten "cheese"/margarine into the 4 pounds of powdered sugar and cocoa mixture.


We made a couple of batches. One with walnuts and one without (my fudge assistant doesn't fancy walnuts).

They went into some tins lined with buttered parchment. Don't you just love the phrase "buttered parchment?" It just rolls off of the tongue...


And here we have a chunk. Cooled and cut.



If you are into fudge, this is some pretty good fudge. The Velveeta adds a textural component and just a hint of flavor. The Velveeta in this recipe reminds me of the butyric acid in Hershey's chocolate. Just a little funk in the background to make things interesting.

I have made "process cheese" akin to Velveeta in the past utilizing sodium citrate (see here) along with quality New York cheddar. I think it might be fun to whip up a 6# Fudge batch utilizing a more assertive cheese just to see what happens. It would most likely be horrible, but you never know. It might be fun.

Anyhow, I told a bunch of friends that I was making the Velveeta fudge and everyone was all "gags" and "grosses." I even had to foot a bunch of it over to a misbelieving neighbor who thought the stuff would be vomitous.


Everyone who tasted the 6# Fudge (including my supremely picky children) declared it to be above average fudge and perfectly normal in taste. 

The only problem I have with this recipe is that it is 6 pounds of fudge. Remaining in my house at the time of this writing is approximately 5 pounds of fudge. I can't even feed the stuff to the dog...

Who wants fudge? I will arrange for the Velveeta Cheese Fudge Fairy to visit your abode.

Tuesday, March 28, 2017

Crap In Cans: Mrs. Fearnow's Brunswick Stew


Remember 2008-ish? That was the golden age of food-weblogs. Countless knuckleheads were out there doing corny write-ups on novelty canned goods (remember the whole chicken in a can craze?). In fact, one of my very first weblog posts was a canned haggis review (I can't find it, it's lost to history)... **Edit: Found it!**

I never thought I would find myself nostalgic for those days. But here I am less than a month away from my 37th birthday and I'm sitting here waxing nostalgic for those days... Here in the late twenty-teens most of the amateur food commentary goes down on short form social media. There are precious few truly amateurish hacks writing posts that you can sink your teeth into. Thumbing through the twitters or the instagrams just isn't the same. I find this a little sad.

So here I am being all hip and retro by resurrecting the genre. I didn't even find that interesting of a canned good...But I'm a-writin' about it and you can't stop me.

I should note before going on that I just had some minor oral surgery and am mildly zonked on pain killers... This may or may not have something to do with my whim of the evening.

Here we have "Mrs. Fearnow's Brunswick Stew with Chicken."


My first thought upon spying this can at Hannafords (Delmar) was, "Oh, god. It can't actually have squirrel in it... Isn't Brunswick Stew supposed to have squirrel in it?..."

Fear not, Mrs. Fearnow's is made with chicken.



Here she is cold and un-canned.


It has sort of a pre-digested look to it, doesn't it? I think it's the corn.


The little disks of potato struck me as weird.


But all in all, the stuff wasn't that bad... Tender veg, a pleasant tomato tang, some nice mouthfeel from the chicken fat... A cut above your average canned slop.

Anyhow, I hope you will join me in bringing back retro food-weblog topics. Go ahead, test some prison recipes. Maybe make a White Castle Casserole. Do some kitschy bacon recipes,,, Maybe make a bacon wrapped E.L. Fudge. Ensure you accompany your cheesy prose with equally badly lit cellphone pictures!

Party like it's 2009. Get weird with it.



Bacon Wrapped E.L. Fudge. Yup, I Went There. (From 2008)



I had one random slice of bacon and some double stuffed Keebler EL Fudges lying around, I think you can pretty much predict what happened.

Yup, "Elwood" (EL fudges have elf's names on them if you don't know)got wrapped in bacon. Am I becoming a parody of myself here with the whole bacon wrapped thing?



Into the oven we went Mr. Elwood the cookie at 350 for about 20 minutes.



When I took it out it appeared that there was some chocolatey filling seepage. I let the elf cool so things had a chance to firm up a little. I then sliced it on the bias to get a look at the insides.



Verdict: Upon biting into the bacon/cookie you are hit with an immediate pork flavor on the front end which morphs into a salty/chocolate flavor as you continue to chew. A little disconcerting at the incept but we finish with a fairly pleasant flavor. Not bad, not bad.


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Canned Haggis, Tatties and Neeps. Yum. (From 2008)

Here it is folks! As promised, one glorious can of yummy, meaty Lamb Haggis! Just delivered from the fine folks at the Caledonian Kitchen.



The first ingredients are in order: Water, Lamb, Hydrated Pinhead Oats, Beef Liver, and Refined Beef Suet. R-e-f-i-n-e-d spells delicious!!! In case you are watching your figure this one 14.5 ounce can contains 1320 calories and 212% of your daily saturated fat intake. Thats all that tasty beef suet working around in there.

Lets crack this bad boy open and see whats shaking. The odyssey begins.



OK, upon opening the can you are literally punched in the face by the smell. The smell of this crap is like concentrated corned beef hash stank mixed with that gamy smell particular to lamb. Some how I do not think the choice chops of lamb made it into this mess. I think I caught a sniff of mechanically separated lamb anus. My kitchen was completely hotboxed in like 6 seconds. My wife who is currently incubating my minion (pregnant) headed for the hills cursing me in some strange gypsy tongue.



Oh good god! After shaking it out of its can I was a little disappointed that the wee haggis was not ensconced in some thing's stomach. But disappointment quickly faded against the strength of the stench that shook even my Anglo-Scots soul to its foundation. How to prepare this jiggling column of lamb scrote and oatmeal? I decided upon the traditional treatment of Haggis, Tatties, and Neeps. I decided to substitute Parsnip for the, in my opinion, nasty Scottish Turnip (rutabaga) which represents the Neep part of the dish.



First I sliced a couple half inch rounds of the Haggis and browned them well in a generous amount of butter.



While this was working I set a large peeled Yukon gold potato and a peeled parsnip to boil in salted water. You are gonna want to boil these until tender but not mushy.



When these are done (about 20 minutes), dry, cool somewhat, chop into symmetrical
cubes, and saute until crisp on all sides.



Next, reduce a couple jiggers of single malt scotch until syrupy. Add a half cup of whipping cream and reduce further for a couple minutes. Season, and finish with some finely chopped parsley.



I served these two rounds of haggisy goodness with points of good German Schinkenbrot, the crisped tatties and neeps, a drizzle of the whiskey cream sauce, and a sprinkling of chopped parsley.



Next step, Dig In!!! Yum!!! Immediately break out remaining single malt, fix a pint glass size whiskey and water, gargle, spit, repeat until rotting, fatty, nasty, gamy, lamby ass funky shit taste dissipates.



Seriously folks, this is slap your children gross. It is a food with which the ass smell is locked in mortal combat with the ass taste for supremacy.

Verdict: I fed this to my cats and then felt bad for them.



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Sunday, March 12, 2017

The Church Cookbooks of New York, Part 4: Transparent Pie ("Chappaqua Cookbook" The Chappaqua Congregational Church, 1941)


Part 2:  "Hot Damn," "Sharing Our Best" - Chemung ARC, Elmira, 1996
Part 2.5: Steamed Chickent "From Ridgewood Kitchens," West Side Presbyterian Church, Ridgewood, NJ, 1945

I scored this little darling last week.


Here we have 1941's "Chappaqua Cookbook" from the The Congregational Church of Chappaqua.


The first thing I ought to say about this particular church cookbook is that it was absolutely brimming with racist imagery. Pages and pages of it. I have several cookbooks from this era and once in a while there will be something to raise an eyebrow... But Chappaqua Cookbook? Chock full. I won't share any images as I don't think anyone benefits from that. 

Considering only the recipes, the book is wonderful. One of the first recipes in the book is the below. I imagined this being whipped up in a prison toilet. This is one of the only "home brew" recipes I have come across in one of these collections. I imagine wild "Sherry" fueled ragers going down at the Congregational Church.

The next one gave me a case of the barf-spits. Prune/mayo/seafood? I can't live at that speed.


My favorite part of 40s/50s Church/Community cookbooks is the hand drawn art work that was common. From the 60s on you don't see this as much. It was pretty much a convention in the 40s and 50s. I absolutely love the "illuminated" title of this pickle recipe.


These lil' dancing cukes? I love them


Anyhow, I came across the following recipe for "Transparent Pie"by M. Pennebaker (L.H.P.). I have no idea what "L.H.P." stands for, but maybe it's this which would make M. Pennebaker a whole lot more interesting. Something about the name "Transparent Pie" made me laugh so I decided to give it a whirl.


From a cursory reading this seems to be a pretty run of the mill custard pie. I don't consider custard pies to be particularly transparent, but I went with it anyhow.

Church cookbook recipes always have you throwing things in double boilers. Because of this I have been on the hunt for a vintage enamelware double boiler. Haven't found a good one yet. In the meantime I do the bowl over a pot thing.


One thing about this recipe that is interesting to me is how much culinary knowledge it presupposes. I love custard so I know what the drill is. I could easily see it not being apparent to others that you are going to want to cook the custard until it is fairly stiff. That would make for a soupy pie and no one likes a soupy pie. Also, "meringue on top" is a pretty spare bit of instruction.

I took "a slow oven" to be 325. So in she went for 30 minutes. I made the meringue by hand with a whisk as I'm a masochist. It came out fairly crappy.


I let it chill and cut myself a slice this very morning for breakfast.


As you can see there is nothing particularly "transparent" about the "Transparent Pie." It is pretty much just a custard pie with some meringue on it. False advertising.

I am a huge custard pie fan. In fact, I don't consider you to be much of a person unless you can cook a decent custard pie. So I was a bit surprised that I didn't really like this recipe. I would dial the sugar way back. Also, I don't really feel like the meringue brings much to the party.

So there you have it. Weird pie from Chappaqua.

One of these days I need to have a dinner party and go full bore with some of the more interesting recipes from these books. I play it fairly conservative as I don't really want to waste food in the name of bizarre historical recipe experimentation. I am starting to accrue a mental stockpile of whizbangers that need to be brought to life and it is starting to bother me...

I might actually have to start a "Ridiculous Food Society" to consume them...

Monday, February 20, 2017

The Community Cookbooks of New York, Part 3: Barbecued Frankfurters ("Kitchen Kapers" City Club of Albany, Albany, 1949)


Part 1:  Tomato Soup Cake, "Golden Anniversary" - Church of the Master, Rochester, 1977
Part 2:  "Hot Damn," "Sharing Our Best" - Chemung ARC, Elmira, 1996
Part 2.5: Steamed Chickent "From Ridgewood Kitchens," West Side Presbyterian Church, Ridgewood, NJ, 1945

I consider "Kitchen Kapers" to be one of the jewels of my (ever expanding) Church/Community cookbooks of Upstate New York collection. I really owe some more in depth coverage of its contents. The ads, anecdotes, artwork, etc... are mental ambrosia for any City of Albany History buff.

I consider "Kitchen Kapers" to be nothing less than a work of American folk art.


The book was "compiled" by the City Club of Albany. The City Club is apparently still a going concern (they have a Facebook Page).

Will give some more in-depth coverage of the various hand-drawn elements (ads and recipe artwork) in the future, so just a teaser below. The Tobin's ad and the intro. page to "Meats" are both great. I had a great uncle who worked for Tobin's!


I chose a fairly simple recipe mostly due to the fact that I had a pack of hot dogs in the fridge that I wanted to do away with. This recipe is by no means my favorite (or the most interesting) in the book. There is another humdinger of a recipe in Kitchen Kapers that I am going to have to lay on you at some point in the future.

Here we have "Barbecued Frankfurters" by Mrs. Willbur H. Crammel Sr.


This is a fairly simple recipe and is thoroughly typical of other contemporary recipe collections in my collection.

It's basically a ketchup based BBQ sauce poured over hot dogs and then baked.


Here she is pipin' hot out of the oven!


I am going to dig deep here for a reference, bear with me... The appearance of the "Barbecued Frankfurters" immediately conjured to my mind a scene from the seminal 1989 classic film "Robot Jox."

I am, of course, speaking of the "Real Meat Tonight" scene.


Anyhow, I was a little perplexed by this dish. There was not the usual "serve over rice" or "serve on sliced bread" instruction at the end of the recipe to guide me towards a suitable method of consumption.

I flopped a dog on a plate.


Pretty much what you would expect. A baked hot dog with some sweet BBQ sauce. I will say that it reminded me of the "Brat Tub" preparation (click here for an ancient recipe from my blogging past). I love me a good Brat Tub. Should the craving for wurst braised in a sweet sauce strike me in the future, I will be going with the Brat Tub.

Certainly more to follow concerning "Kitchen Kapers." As I am easily the 3 or 4 thousandth most eminent City of Albany cookbook historian, I feel it is my duty to give this recipe collection the attention it deserves.

Wednesday, February 8, 2017

For Whom The Bell Toll Gates... (Toll Gate Ice Cream, Slingerlands)


People are tied to places. Places are tied to people. Sometimes places can't survive without their people. Sometimes this is very sad.

The Toll Gate is part of the landscape. Imagining a drive to Thacher Park without passing the Toll Gate is like imagining a drive to Thacher Park without a view of the Heldebergs. It has been there all of my days and I took for granted that it would be there for the rest of my days.

Recently the proprietor fell ill and the Toll Gate shut its doors (go here to help out a little). The community closed ranks around the beloved joint. Money was raised and good feelings were shared. I was not at all surprised. Appearances often to the contrary, people around here are good and kind. When help is needed, help is given.

I will recount a Toll Gate anecdote of mine. One time a year or two ago I was driving back from a day at Indian Ladder with the kids. We came upon a car that had run off the road and struck some trees, maybe a minute or two prior. I pulled onto the shoulder and ran over to see what I could do. Maybe 10 other folks of all ages and sorts had the same idea and joined me.

All turned out well, the authorities arrived, and the family and I continued on to the Toll Gate. I got each of my little ones a cone and perched them on the gate of my truck. As I watched the kids happily dribble melted ice cream all over themselves and told them about how I used to dribble ice cream all over myself as a kid (in this very parking lot!), my wife received a phone call. From my own phone.

I had dropped the phone on the side of the road when I had jumped out back at that accident. A friend of mine was one of the first responders and had come across my phone after clearing the accident! He brought it to me at the Toll Gate and we shot the shit for a minute. One of those happy little coincidences that make you think there may really be some sort of rhyme or reason to life and the rest of the universe...

Anyhow, this is all to say that folks are scared and stupid most times. But when it counts it is a safe bet that people around here will get together and do the right thing.

A couple of weeks ago the Toll Gate opened on a Saturday to offer free ice cream by way of thanks to all those who contributed towards Robert's medical bills.

I took my daughter over.



The line was out the door. Standing outside I had a chance to take in the details. In summer the Toll Gate is covered in ivy.


Should the Toll Gate close I am convinced that it should be preserved as a museum. There just aren't places like this anymore and there never will be again.


There was a table set up with get well cards for all to sign. My daughter signed one.


I chose an eggnog cone (daughter had the Thin Mint). It occurred to me that my lifelong obsession with eggnog may have its genesis in childhood eggnog cones from the Toll Gate.


I have hopes that this was not my (or my daughter's) last cone at the Toll Gate. But the future is very uncertain. At the very least things will change.

As we walked back to the truck I clumsily dropped my half-eaten cone into the muck on the side of the road. My daughter gasped and said, "Oh Daddy! I'm sorry!" Then she offered me her cone. I think she knows that the Toll Gate is an important place to me... She is a good kid.

All kids are good. I think maybe we should turn over leadership of our affairs to the children. Maybe also dogs.

Should Toll Gate open its doors back up, I hope that you will all join me in frequently spending money there. I would like to do anything I can to keep it as a going concern.






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