Scappi’s Hop-shoot Soup

I’ve been wanting to try this recipe for a couple of years now, but it feels like as soon as spring hits Vermont, it’s summer a week later and the hops are already six feet long.

WELL.

I was weeding the garden earlier in the week, and wouldn’t you know, all those hops are making a break for it. I managed to grab a bunch of them to give this recipe a crack at long last. Just as well, since the hops seem to be really vigorous this year, and in need of a little thinning out. Never mind the hops I found growing wild last year in the abandoned lot next door- I’m hoping to transplant a bit of those down to my patch this week. And eventually I’ll turn all those dried hops into some awesome beer or mead, but in the meantime, we’ve got soup on the stove.

This is an interesting dish for a couple of reasons. First off, I think it’s pretty unusual to find hops in a recipe in any time period. But it makes sense- along with chives, asparagus, dandelions, and a handful of other wild weeds, hops are one of the first green plants to really get going in the spring. In a time period when fresh greens were not available year round (which is to say, up until the last 50-100 years, really), folks would have been desperate to eat any little green thing for the nutritional value.

The finished soup is curious, like many of the dishes in Scappi. It’s rich and very flavorful, but mine wasn’t quite as thick as I was led to believe it would be. That might be my fault, but I did put in two egg yolks. It’s in the section of the book of recipes for invalids, and I can understand why- it’s enormously healthy-tasting. By which I mean it tastes like it would restore you after an illness or an extra long winter. The hop shoots reminded me of tiny asparagus, which could certainly be used in place of hops, as Scappi suggested. I also innovated a little bit and added some grated Parmesan, which I think added someting. I suspect that the greens are essentially meant to be pureed into the soup, which would give it a creamier flavor, but my little small-cut pieces gave it some texture. Plus, if you are using some happy chicken eggs like mine, you’ll get this rich yellow broth that contrasts beautifully with the bright green of the hops.

All in all, I’m not sure this is one that I’ll be repeating every spring, but I’m definitely glad I finally got the chance to try it!

Scappi’s Hop-shoot Soup Recipe

“To prepare a thick soup of hops. Get the tenderest part of them, wash them well and put them into water to boil. When they are done, take them out and put them into cold water. When they have cooled, take them out, beat them with knives and cook them with chicken broth. Furthermore, you can cook them with a few raisins or gooseberries; you can also omit beating them, following the directions for asparagus. Sometimes you can put in a few melon seed that have been made into milk. The same can be done with thick soups of beaten chicory. If it is for a lean day, instead of broth use fresh washed butter; for a fast day, sweet-almond oil.” -The Opera of Bartolomeo Scappi, 1577

Makes 1 serving

Ingredients:

a good sized handful of young hop shoots, no more than 1′ long
1 1/2-2 cups chicken broth
1-2 egg yolks
splash white wine vinegar or verjus
1/4 cup grated Parmesan (optional)

Begin by parboiling the hop shoots: cut them into pieces about 6-8″ long and drop into a pan of simmering water. Cook for several minutes, until the shoots are a bright green and tender. Drop into a bowl of cold water to stop them cooking. Strain and chop off any stems that are still too stiff. Chop the rest of the tender greens small and set aside.

In a separate pan, whisk together the chicken broth and egg yolks and place over medium heat. Continue to cook until the mixture has thickened somewhat. Add the splash of verjus, then remove from heat. Stir in the chopped greens and cheese, if adding.

Star Wars – Rootleaf Stew

Alrighty, here’s the runner up from my Twitter poll, one of the most memorable dishes in that galaxy far, far away. Straight from the swamps of Dagobah, here’s the stew that made Luke Skywalker make this face:

BUT! Before you start to doubt too much, here’s something to keep in mind: Luke has spent almost his entire life on Tatooine, a desert planet that’s just about the opposite of humid, marshy Dagobah. The flavor profiles would likely be entirely different from one cuisine to the next, so while the stew might be wholly nourishing, the flavors would be new and strange.

This was a fun recipe to put together conceptually. I opted for ingredients that could feasibly be found in murky, swampy areas: mushrooms, roots, bark, and large leafy greens. A favorite recipe of Jedi Master Yoda, and if you give it a chance, you might just wind up liking it too. And, because it’s quick to make, it is ideal for dinner guests who drop in unexpectedly.

Update: I’ve added this recipe to the lineup for Fictional Foodies’ May Star Wars lineup. Check out the other cool recipes folks have submitted here.

Rootleaf Stew Recipe

Makes 4 servings

Prep: 5 minutes Cooking: 20 minutes

Location: Dagobah, Outer Rim Territories

Ingredients

8 oz mushrooms, sliced
2 Tbs. cooking oil
1 Tbs. garlic, finely minced
1 Tbs. freshly grated ginger root
1/2 tsp. each ground cumin, turmeric, cinnamon
2 cups chopped roots, such as potato, carrot, parsnip, etc.
2 cups vegetable broth
several handfuls collard greens, torn small

Heat half the oil in a saucepan over medium heat and cook the mushrooms for several minutes, until they have released their juices. Move the mushrooms to a bowl and set aside.

Add the rest of the oil, followed by the ginger and ground spices, stirring for about 30 seconds until they are fragrant. Pour in the vegetable broth, followed by the root vegetables. Add water to just cover the roots, and simmer until they are soft, around 10-15 minutes, depending on their size. Add the mushrooms back in, followed by the collard greens. Cook for another minute or two, then scoop into serving bowls.

“Colonial” Thanksgiving, 2016

So as you may have seen in previous years (2014, 2015), our family has started doing a “colonial” Thanksgiving celebration. I use the quotes because it’s far from strictly colonial in terms of preparation and authentic recipes, but we do try to keep things mostly historical, and then we use only candles and oil lamps once it gets dark. I also have grand ambitions to grow everything we eat. Maybe if I really get the vegetable garden sorted out next year! In the meantime, we’ll settle for locally grown.

This year, my mother is gung ho to make a stew outside over a cookfire, which I think will really take the whole thing to the next wacky level. Our house was built in 1795, but due to some remodels and a fire, doesn’t have that classic brick kitchen oven setup, or you could bet your breeches I’d be using that.

The biggest change this year is that we won’t have a turkey. I made many, many tasty turkeys during the WoW Cookbook process, so it turns out that nobody in the family is quite ready to eat any more just yet. I think there’s still some in the freezer, waiting to be made into soup. But that’s actually pretty traditional. Just take for example this account from 1748 New Hampshire:

“Our bay is full of lobsters all the summer and affordeth variety of other fish; in September we can take a hogshead of eels in a night, with small labor, and can dig them out of their beds all the winter. We have mussels … at our doors. Oysters we have none near, but we can have them brought by the Indians when we will; all the spring-time the earth sendeth forth naturally very good sallet herbs. Here are grapes, white and red, and very sweet and strong also. Strawberries, gooseberries, raspas, etc. Plums of tree sorts, with black and red, being almost as good as a damson; abundance of roses, white, red, and damask; single, but very sweet indeed… These things I thought good to let you understand, being the truth of things as near as I could experimentally take knowledge of, and that you might on our behalf give God thanks who hath dealt so favorably with us.” -William Haywood’s journal, Charlestown, NH

Or this account, from 1779 Connecticut:

“Of course we could have no roast beef. None of us have tasted beef this three years back as it all must go to the army, & too little they get, poor fellows. But, Nayquittymaw’s hunters were able to get us a fine red deer, so that we had a good haunch of venison on each table. These were balanced by huge chines of roast pork at the other ends of the tables. Then there was on one a big roast turkey & on the other a goose, & two big pigeon pasties. Then there was an abundance of good vegetables of all the old sorts & one that I do not believe you have yet seen. Uncle Simeon had imported the seed from England just before the war began & only this year was there enough for table use. It is called sellery & you eat it without cooking. It is very good and served with meats. Next year Uncle Simeon says he will be able to raise enough to give us all some. It has to be taken up, roots & all & buried in earth in the cellar through the winter & only pulling up some when you want it to use. Our mince pies were good, although we had to use dried cherries as I told you, & the meat was shoulder of venison instead of beef. The pumpkin pies, apple tarts & big Indian puddings lacked for nothing save appetite by the time we had got around to them.”

I don’t know about you, but those descriptions definitely set my mouth watering!

Here’s the current plan, which always changes at the last minute. I’ll hopefully be posting any new recipes that turn out well:

Flair

Hand washing water – (also makes the house smell nice)
Beeswax and bayberry candles
Pewter, linen, antler, and assorted other period dishware

Appetizers

Pemmican – traditional
Indian slapjacks, with acorn and cornmeal – 1796
assorted local cheeses

Main

Venison Stew – traditional, 1749
Cod in Coals – traditional

Sides

Cranberry Chutney – 1767, with some tweaks
Blueberry Chutney – ad lib, homegrown
Roasted Squash with homemade maple syrup
Cabbage, onions, and bacon

Dessert

Pumpkin Pie – 1653
Mother McCann’s Lemon Pie – pre-1891, from a family cookbook
Cider Cake – 1881
Apple Tansy – 1754
Gooseberry Hops – 1792

Drinks

Birch Wine – 1691
Elderberry Wine – 1861
Syllabubs – 1796

Sources used:

The First American Cookbook, Amelia Simmons, 1796
The Compleat Housewife: or, Accomplished Gentlewoman’s Companion by E. Smith, 1754
Vinetum Britannicum, J. Worlidge, 1691
Mrs. Beeton’s Book of Household Management, Mrs. Beeton, 1861
The Way to a Man’s Heart, various authors, pre-1891
Dr. Chase’s Receipt Book, Dr. Chase, 1887
Martha Washington’s Booke of Cookery, Karen Hess, 1749

The Verdict?

As my mother put it, “Why would anyone settle for turkey when they could do this?!” We had an absolute blast, and the extra smoky flavors from cooking over the fire put everything right over the top. From shaking up cream to make our own butter, to toting that giant cod to and from the firepit, it was a holiday to remember. My mother prepped the cod by wrapping it in cabbage leaves and clay (8 lb turned out to be a lot of fish), and baked some bread in her woodstove. The star of the day, the venison stew, was rich and hearty, with chunks of meat, sausage, and root vegetables swimming in a flavorful broth. The handwashing water was a big hit, and while the lemon pie didn’t quite set right, it was tasty enough to perfect- more on that later. We concluded the evening, as always, with dramatic readings in the livingroom, by candlelight.

The thing I love most, perhaps, about approaching a holiday like this is that it takes away so much of the pressure that can do in what should be a festive time. Nobody was worried about the turkey prep, or whether their cranberry sauce would hold up to Aunt Mabel’s scrutiny. Instead, it’s about the adventure of the cooking, and having fun together. And because we try to make the dinner with all local or homegrown ingredients, it gives us a proper appreciation for the effort that goes into growing and preparing the food. Looking back in time, it’s easy to marvel at the amount of hard work that went into keeping a family alive and fed. Here’s to all the hunters and housewives that have gotten us to where we are today!

And speaking of that, I’m thankful for the years you all have spent here at The Inn with me, and I hope you’ll join me for many more to come!

Review: The Fever Tree – Mulligatawny Stew

I received a copy of this book as part of a giveaway on Goodreads.com, and was delighted. I didn’t know what to expect, but figured it was some sort of romance. I anticipated a quick read, and if I was lucky, a few descriptions of food.

What I got was an experiential novel that is more like watching a film than reading a book.

Frances Irving, the story’s protagonist, is a proper young woman thrown into extreme circumstances that were not uncommon for her sex during the time period. Forced to make difficult decisions that take her from comfort and security of the world she has always known, she must confront the 19th century South African diamond trade,

It paints a devastatingly harsh picture of the Kimberley Diamond Mine and the politics that surround it. In the photo below, you can see the massive hand-dug mine, the largest in the world, and the cables that brought dirt up from the bottom to dump at the top. The mine was a veritable jigsaw puzzle of different claims, which is why there were so many levels of digging. And as is so often the case, where there is potential for wealth, there is also cruelty, injustice, political schemes, and abject poverty.

Kimberley Diamond Mine, late 1800s

Frances can be an irritating, impractical twit of a girl. The beginning of the story is difficult to get through because Frances struggles so much to adapt to her new life and surroundings, and we readers struggle with her.

But the really remarkable thing about the writing is that as the story progresses, as Frances grows and evolves, we begin to not only like her, but admire her. As her understanding of the world into which she has been thrust deepens, so too does our perspective of the novel. She is surrounded by complex and interesting characters, in settings as harsh or lovely as the landscape. Her loves become our loves, her victories, ours.

Honestly, I don’t have the word-skills to fully convey what an amazing book this is (if I did, I’d be a novelist, too). All I can do is heartily recommend giving it a read- it’s a story that will stay with you.

For the dish selection from this book, I toyed with several ideas: peaches in syrup, mulberry jam, coffee with ground figs, leg of lamb, and poached salmon with hollandaise sauce. In the end, though, I chose Mulligatawny Stew, a dish that comes from an amalgamation of cultures, much as South Africa is a collection of many different cultures and backgrounds.

“The boy knocked on the door, and William got up and took the tray from him. There was a tureen of soup and a loaf of bread. He sat on the floor, pulling her down next to him, along with a heap of sheets, so she was propped up against the bed with her hair falling about her knees. She ate hungrily. The soup was mulligatawny, thick and hot with a deep spiciness, and the butter tripped off the bread down her fingers. She was starving and ate with intent, aware of him watching her closely.”

-The Fever Tree, by Jennifer McVeigh

Mulligatawny Soup Recipe

serves 4-6

Cook’s Notes: The basis for this recipe comes from Mrs. Beeton’s giant book of recipes, circa 1860. I reduced the amount of onions from the original 6 down to 4, figuring that our modern onions might be a tad larger than those available in the 19th century, and likewise tweaked down the cumin from a full 2 tablespoons. By nature, this is a sort of hodge-podge stew, so I encourage you to include whatever ingredients you might have on hand.

Ingredients:

4 slices of lean bacon
4 onions
1 clove of garlic
1 lb. meat (chicken, rabbit, and pork all work well)
1 oz. of pounded almonds
1 1/2 Tbs. of curry powder
2 quarts of stock
a little lemon-pickle or mango-juice, to taste

Fry the bacon until just crispy, and remove to a plate lined with paper towels to dry. Add a tablespoon of butter to the pan and fry the onions and garlic until light brown and soft. Scoop them out and add them to a medium saucepan. Crumble the bacon into bite-sized pieces and add those to the stew pot. Brown your meat in the same pan and add that to the saucepan, along with the stock. Simmer until the meat is tender, skimming periodically. Grind the curry and almonds with a bit of the stock, then add to the pot. Flavor to taste with a bit of lemon juice, or if you have it, lemon-pickle.

Serve hot with bread or rice.

Watercress Sandwiches with Pea & Cabbage Soup – Redwall Series

“Tiria and Lycian took the birds to the buffet table, allowing them to choose what they liked. Brantalis opted for soft cheese and watercress sandwiches, which he immersed in a bowl of pea and cabbage soup and gobbled down with evident relish.”

–High Rhulain, by Brian Jacques

What an ideal light lunch!

The sandwiches are fresh and inviting, soft crusts giving way to the crunch of cucumber and watercress. The soup has a hearty warmth unusual in vegetarian dishes, but you may want to encourage guests to add salt and pepper to taste. I would encourage you to eat three or four bites before adding anything though- the flavors develop as you go. If the flavors are too mild for you, consider adding a little (very un-Redwallian) diced ham.

Recipes for Watercress Sandwiches and Pea & Cabbage Soup

Makes enough for 4 sandwiches, and soup for 6

Ingredients for 4 Sandwiches:

2 Tbs. softened butter
4 oz. soft cheese of your choice (thinly sliced cheddar is also delicious)
1 cup watercress leaves & thin stems, rinsed and rung out in a tea towel
1 Cucumber, sliced thin
8 slices wheat bread

Spread the butter in a thin layer on half the pieces of bread (if using cheddar, butter both sides). Follow with a layer of cheese, then a layer of cucumber, and finishing with a layer of watercress. Place the top slice on the sandwich.

Using a long, sharp knife, trim off the crusts, and cut into triangles. Serve with soup below.

Ingredients for soup:

1 cup dried split green peas (you can use yellow if you prefer)
7 cups of water
2 Tablespoons vegetable or olive oil
1/2 sweet onion, diced
1 clove garlic, minced
1 large carrot, chopped
2 cups vegetable or meat broth
2 russet potatoes, roughly chopped
salt and ground pepper
1/2 head cabbage (green, red or savoy) chopped into bite-sized pieces (about 7 cups)

Pour peas and seven cups of water in large pot and bring to a boil. Cook for about 20 minutes.

In a skillet heat 2 Tablespoons of oil over medium to medium-low heat. Add the onions and cook for about 5 minutes, stirring often. Then add the garlic and cook for 5 additional minutes, stirring often.

To the onions and garlic, add the carrots and cook another 5-10 minutes, stirring often.

To the peas, add the potatoes and continue to boil another 10 minutes. Then add the onion mixture to the pot containing the peas and add 4 cups of broth and bring to temperature.

Blend the ingredients using an immersion blender. Add the cabbage to the pot and allow to cook over medium heat, for 15 minutes or so until the cabbage is wilted.

Blandissory

“Four master pyromancers conjured up beasts of living flame to tear at each other with fiery claws whilst the serving men ladled out bowls of blandissory, a mixture of beef broth and boiled wine sweetened with honey and dotted with blanched almonds and chunks of capon.” -A Storm of Swords

Thoughts:

This is a great example of how sweet and savory elements are often combined in a medieval dish. The chicken and broth, and to some extent even the wine are more commonly served as savory dishes, while cinnamon, ginger, and honey are more often associated with sweet dishes, like cookies and desserts.

This dish is quirky, and while not especially appealing in appearance, it is actually quite tasty. The almond and rice flours thicken the broth to a consistency just shy of a medium gravy. The chicken is wonderfully soft and flavorful, a great textural counterpoint to the occasioinal crunch of the almonds.

Also, while the text excerpt calls for beef broth, I found that this is a wonderful way to use a second day roast chicken. Simply pick off any remaining meat, and boil down the carcass for broth. Very economical, and in keeping with the traditional practices of not letting anything go to waste. Of course, if you’re a Lannister, you needn’t worry about such things…

All in all, a quirky dish, but not without its merits. Medieval food surprises yet again!

Recipe for Blandissory

Makes: about 2 servings Prep: 5-10 minutes

Blaundesore to potage. Take almondes and grynde hom when thai byn blounchet and tempur hom, on fysshe day wyth wyn, and on flesheday with broth of flesh, and put hit in a pot, and therto floure of rys, and let hit boyle ; then take the braune of hennes, or of capons, and bray hom, and tempur hit up with the broth of the capons, and do hit in the pot, and colour hit with saffron; and do therto gynger mynced, and powder of canel, and sugur ynogh, and serve hit forth, and florish hit with white annys. –Ancient Cookery (England, 1425)

Cook’s Notes: I used red wine because it’s what I had open, but a white wine would make for a very pretty dish, especially with the saffron to color it.

Ingredients:

1/4 cup Ground almonds
2 cups meat broth
1 cup wine
2 Tbs. rice flour
~1 cup shredded and chopped cooked chicken meat
pinch of saffron (if using white wine)
pinch ground ginger
pinch ground cinnamon
1-2 Tbs. sugar or honey
blanched almonds for garnish (~1/4 cup)

Combine ground almonds with wine/broth, and bring to a boil. Gradually add the rice flour, whisking to avoid creating clumps. Add the chicken, spices, and honey, and stir for around 2 minutes.

Pour into your serving dish, sprinkle with almonds, and serve!

Boeuf en Daube – To The Lighthouse

“An exquisite scent of olives and oil and juice rose from the great brown dish as Marthe, with a little flourish took the cover off. The cook had spent three days over that dish and she must take great care, Mrs. Ramsay thought, diving into the soft mass to choose an especially tender piece for William Bankes.And she peered into the dish, with its shiny walls and its confusion of savory brown and yellow meats, and its bay leaves and its wine and thought, This will celebrate the occasion…”

–To the Lighthouse, by Virginia Woolf

That above quote, mouthwatering in the extreme, is like an appetizer unto itself. As soon as I read it, I knew I had another dish to make.

This recipe makes a wonderful, hearty beef stew that is just perfect for the coming chill of late fall and winter. The olives provide an unlooked for earthiness that is sometimes lacking in other stews, while the orange zest lightens the whole dish. The meat is meltingly tender, having been both marinated and slow cooked. The broth was not as thick as I would have liked, but a simple roux would fix that easily enough. I simmered mine most of the day in a crock pot, which gradually gave the whole house a rich, enticing aroma.

I recommend pairing the stew with a nice loaf of rustic bread, some cheese, and either a hefty salad or a couple of sides, like potatoes and green beans.

Recipe for Boeuf en Daube

Prep: marinate overnight Stewing: 6 hours

Makes 4 servings

Ingredients:

2 lbs stew beef, cubed
4 shallots, sliced thin
3-5 garlic cloves, minced
small bunch fresh thyme
1 -2 bay leaves
1 bottle inexpensive red wine
1 tablespoon olive oil
3 strips smoked bacon, cut into small pieces
1/4 cup dried mushrooms, chopped small
1/2 cup chopped carrots
1/2 tablespoon soft brown sugar
1/2 cup olives, pitted and cut into slices
zest of half an orange
1 14 oz. can diced tomatoes
Salt and Pepper to taste
splash of cognac (optional)

Marinade the beef with the herbs, shallots & garlic overnight in half of the red wine.

The next day, drain the meat, pouring the wine into your stewpot or crockpot.

In a large skillet, cook the bacon until it is somewhat crispy, and the fat has run from it. Remove the bacon and add to your main pot. Working in batches, add the seasoned beef to the bacon fat and cook until just browned on each side. Remove the meat to the pot, but keep the garlic and shallots cooking in the frying pan until they are soft and fragrant. Pour this mixture into the main pot, adding also the thyme, bay leaves, tomatoes, carrots, sugar, olives, zest, and remaining wine.

Cook on low for at least six hours, at which point the meat should be very tender. If you like, add a splash of cognac near the end of cooking.

Lamb Stew with Dried Plums – The Hunger Games

“Before I can stop him, he’s out in the rain, then handing something in to me. A silver parachute attached to a basket. I rip it open at once and inside there’s a feast– fresh rolls, goat cheese, apples, and best of all, a tureen of that incredible lamb stew on wild rice.”

–The Hunger Games, by Suzanne Collins

Thoughts:

No wonder this is Katniss Everdeen’s favorite dish from the Capitol.

The finished stew is thick and gooey, with small melting lumps of lamb, vegetable, and shallot, and the occasional crunch of a slivered almond. The flavor is a complex combination of savory herbs, with an unexpected sweetness imparted by the cooked down plums and the yam. Served over a bed of wild rice, the whole is a hearty, near-divine fictional food experience that absolutely lives up to its reputation.

In keeping with the original excerpt, I paired my stew with apples, rolls, and goat cheese. YOM!

Lamb Stew with Dried Plums Recipe

Prep: 15 minutes Cook Time: 1 hour plus

Makes 4 servings

Ingredients

Olive oil, enough to cover the bottom of the skillet (abt. 3 Tbs)
3 shallots, sliced very thin
1 medium yam, cubed
1kg diced lamb (3-4cm cubes)
1/4 cup flour
salt, black pepper, and paprika or Aleppo pepper to taste
1 Tbs. cocoa
6-8 prunes, cut up
1 1/2 cup red wine
1 1/2 cup beef broth
1/4 cup slivered almonds
1 Tbs red wine vinegar
wild rice, enough for 4

Pour the oil into a large skillet, then add the shallots. Cook over medium heat until they are soft but not brown. Add the diced yam and a splash of water, then cover and let cook for about 5 minutes, or until just soft. Transfer the veggies to a large pot.

In that same skillet, pour in enough olive oil to cover the bottom again. Toss the lamb with flour and spices, then brown in the skillet. Add the browned lamb to the pot, along with the remaining ingredients.

Bring to a boil, then turn down and simmer for around an hour. As with all stews, the flavors will be better the second day, but you’ll have a tough time not eating it straightaway.

Serve the stew on a bed of wild multigrain rice.

Try Pots Clam Chowder – Moby Dick

“Queequeg,” said I, “do you think that we can make out a supper for us both on one clam?”

However, a warm savory steam from the kitchen served to belie the apparently cheerless prospect before us. But when that smoking chowder came in, the mystery was delightfully explained. Oh, sweet friends! hearken to me. It was made of small juicy clams, scarcely bigger than hazel nuts, mixed with pounded ship biscuit, and salted pork cut up into little flakes; the whole enriched with butter, and plentifully seasoned with pepper and salt.”

-Moby Dick, by Herman Melville

Thoughts:

Fabulous, if a little unconventional. The liquid reduces down, and the stewed potatoes begin to fall apart, such that the whole chowder becomes this dense concoction, much thicker than most chowders available at restaurants. Redolent with the goodness of spuds and onions, and just a hint of herbs, the chowder on the whole is flavorful and filling. Every so often a clam comes up in a spoonful, and is an extra treat.

All in all, this seems to me an ideal chowder for taking the chill off after a long spell at sea.

Try Pots Clam Chowder Recipe

Total prep time: 1 hour

Makes about 2-3 servings

Cook’s Notes: I didn’t need to add salt, as the salt pork provided exactly the right amount on its own, but a dash of pepper won’t go amiss. This recipe is adapted from one from Mrs. Rorer’s Philadelphia Cookbook, from the 1880s. This puts it just a few decades after the publication of Moby Dick, and on the right coast.

Ingredients:

25 clams, whole, in shells
1/4 lb salt pork, diced
2 cups water
2 medium sized potatoes, peeled and diced large
1 onion, chopped fine
1/2 tsp. thyme
1/2 tsp. sweet marjoram
1/2 Tbs. parsley
salt & pepper to taste
1 cup milk
3 water crackers or 2 sea biscuits, crumbled
2 Tbs butter
2 Tbs flour

Wash clams thoroughly. Into a largeish saucepan, pour 1 1/2 cups water, then add the whole clams. Put a lid on and simmer until the shells open. Take the opened clams out of the pot, reserving the liquid in a separate container. Any clams that do not open should be discarded.

Line the bottom of the saucepan with the diced salt pork. Now put a layer of potatoes on the salt pork, then a sprinkling of onion, thyme, sweet marjoram, parsley, salt & pepper, then a layer of clams, and continue until all the ingredients are used.

Add the water, which should be boiling and barely cover the whole. Cover and simmer for half an hour without stirring. Then add the milk and crackers, stir and cook ten minutes longer. Make a roux by melting the butter over medium heat, then stirring in the flour. Stir in a ladle or two of broth, then add the whole mix back into the chowder.

Serve hot, with extra biscuits on the side.

Laura Moon’s Chili – American Gods

“Laura made a great chili. She used lean-cut meat, dark kidney beans, carrots cut small, a bottle or so of dark beer, and freshly sliced hot peppers. She would let the chili cook for a while, then add red wine, lemon juice, and a pinch of fresh dill, and, finally, measure out and add her chili powders. On more than one occasion Shadow had tried to get her to show him how she made it: he would watch everything she did, from slicing the onions and dropping them into the olive oil at the bottom of the pot on. He had even written down the sequence of events, ingredient by ingredient, and he had once made Laura’s chili for himself on a weekend when she had been out of town. It had tasted okay–it was certainly edible, and he ate it, but it had not been Laura’s chili.”

–American Gods, by Neil Gaiman

Thoughts:

Predictably, this chili is as delicious as you would expect after reading through that description.

I love the colors of this thick and savory chili, those rich dark reds, the flashes of orange carrots, and the sprinkle of seasonings. The huge amounts of cumin and spices amp up the other flavors, while the dill and lemon add a bit of an acidic zip. I’d never before added cocoa powder to a chili, but after this batch, will do it to every chili to follow. Although not specifically mentioned in the ingredients listed in the novel, the cocoa deepens the flavors of the chili, and could potentially account for Shadow’s inability to really recreate Laura’s recipe.

Laura Moon’s Chili Recipe

Ingredients:

1/4 cup olive oil
1 onion, diced
1 lb. ground lean beef
2 15 oz. cans kidney beans
28 oz. can crushed tomatoes (fire roasted are best)
6 medium carrots, diced
1 bottle dark beer
2 freshly sliced hot peppers
1/2 cup red wine
1/2 Tbs. lemon juice
1 tsp. fresh dill, chopped fine
assorted chili powders, to taste
salt, to taste
1 tsp. cumin
pinch of turmeric
1/2 tsp. cayenne pepper
1 tsp. unsweetened cocoa

Cook over medium heat for at least an hour. As with most stews and soups, the chili is much better the next day.