Dear Ina,

Dear Ina,

You know I adore you.  Why else would I take on this insane project and preach the Contessa gospel to everyone I know?  Sure, there have been a few bumpy stretches along the path, but I’ve reconciled those bumps with the fact that you have an irrational fear of slow cookers.  But why on earth would I take the time to wash, peel, and shred beautiful organic carrots, only to add them to a mayonaisse-y, gloppy, salad (Barefoot Contessa Back to Basics)?  Even my husband, who loves all things mayonnaise, would refuse to eat that.  It has RAISINS in it, for crying out loud.  I have to draw the line somewhere, and I’m drawing it right in front of this atrocity.  Plus, it was my birthday.  If I’m going to make my own birthday cake, it damn well better be perfect.

In its stead, I made this lovely carrot cake, with no raisins, thank you.  It was perfection.  So there.

Still yours,

The Curessa

Rugelach

If you don’t already have a Jewish grandmother, this recipe (Barefoot Contessa Parties!) will make you wish you had one to make these for you.  In the small Wisconsin town where I grew up, religious lines were drawn not between Christian and Jewish populations, but Catholics and Lutherans.  Still, somehow I ingratiated myself into Jewish culture.  When I was three – maybe four - years old, my older sister was in a community production of The Fiddler on the Roof.  I was hooked.  My parents brought home the VHS version of “Fiddler” starring Topol, and instead of playing princess or fairies like other girls my age, I pretended to be a middle-aged Jewish milkman.  (Only the starring role would do for me, of course – I had no desire to be any of Tevye’s daughters, his wife, or even the diminuitive matchmaker.)  I brought the vinyl record of the film’s soundtrack to my grandparents’ house and insisted on wearing a head covering and prayer shawl when spinning and dancing around their living room.  Everyone thought I would grow out of it, and I suppose I did, but I still watched that VHS tape so many times that it was warped and worn by the time I was a teenager, and my mom replaced it with a new copy in my Easter basket one year.  The irony that it was an Easter gift is not lost on me.

Now, I live in the hometown of Al Franken and the Coen Brothers.  Judaica stores and kosher delis surround us.  Making rugelach feels both appropriate for my current surroundings and a harkening back to my days as a Tevye wannabe.  These little bundles look like a lot of work, and they are a little fussy to make, but they aren’t as difficult as I thought they would be.  And while I’m not the biggest fan of raisins, if you’re going to eat raisins, this is the way to eat them.  Make these.  Enjoy these.  L’chaim and all that.

Croissant Bread Pudding

For me, all bread pudding will be measured against the bread pudding made by Ukrop’s, from their white house rolls.  (It pains me to even go to the Ukrop’s website these days, now that we live 1,000 miles away from that lovely grocery store.  We have plenty of fantastic options where we live now, but there are certain things that Ukrop’s does best, and bread pudding is one of them.)  That recipe made me like bread pudding for the first time in my life.  While my waistline does not thank them, my taste buds certainly did.  The cruelest trick was that they served it in little squares on the salad bar. It’s as if they were in cahoots with the pharmaceutical companies that make cholesterol-lowering drugs.

This croissant bread pudding (Barefoot Contessa Cookbook) was not a bad attempt at the greatness of Ukrop’s.  The croissants came from Costco, and I don’t recommend trying to bake croissants at home, ever.  I tried it once several years ago, and they were a lot of work for a lot of awful.  It drives me crazy when people just “whip up a batch of croissants” in a movie, because they take days to make.  And even then, I don’t seem to have the knack.  So, thanks Costco!

Oatmeal Raisin Walnut Cookies

I’m usually kind of disappointed when I’m offered an oatmeal raisin cookie.  I mean, I’m not going to turn down a cookie, but why eat dried fruit when you can eat chocolate, you know?  It’s like a working vacation, or a boring field trip.  You’re glad to be out of the office, but you’d rather be sitting on the beach than listening to a potential client dither on.  This cookie, however, changed my tune.  I don’t know if it was the nuts, or possibly the dark brown sugar, but these were perfect, and not disappointing in the least.

The original recipe (Barefoot Contessa Back to Basics) called for pecans, but I prefer walnuts (and had them on hand), so that’s what I used.  So, not only do these provide a healthy dose of oatmeal and raisins, but the walnuts added a little antioxidant punch.  They’re practically health food.  Just be sure not to overbake them.  I overbaked one pan, and they were sadly inedibly dry the next day.

Brussels Sprouts Lardons

Now, I’m a girl who actually likes brussels sprouts.  They were never forced on me as a kid, and as a grown-up I got to try them roasted.  With the right amount of olive oil and salt, they are fantastic.  Add bacon, and you’ve got yourself a method to convert even the staunchest sprout hater.

I did eliminate the raisins from this recipe, for reasons previously discussed here.

Barefoot in Paris, p. 154

Chunky Banana Bran Muffins

I think I figured out what happened to the Cranberry Harvest Muffins that made them so crumbly – I overfilled the muffin tins.  The muffin tins used for the Barefoot Cotnessa cookbooks may be slightly larger than mine, which I assumed were standard.  So, when I made these Chunky Banana Bran Muffins (Barefoot Contessa at Home, pp. 216-217), I made 30 muffins, even though the recipe says it yields 20 to 24.  They’re healthier than your average Ina Garten recipe, with raisins, bananas, and a lot of wheat bran, but they were tasty enough to meet the picky toddler seal of approval.

Stuffed Cabbage

From the ugly but tasty files, I bring you stuffed cabbage (Barefoot Contessa at Home, pp. 106-107).  It’s not pretty, but it tasted so good, and it used our last head of cabbage of the CSA season.  It takes a little puttering and a lot of dirty dishes, but the end result was worth the trouble.  I omitted the raisins and the brown sugar listed in the recipe, because I don’t really do the whole savory/sweet thing for dinner.  I used to have a thing about all raisins found in cooked food, because they got all puffy and swollen.  (Not unlike, as a friend pointed out, ticks.  Yuck.)  I’ve expanded my palate to include raisins baked in things like bread pudding, but I just can’t bear to put them in a dish that also requires ground beef and onions.  Someone’s grandmother is probably rolling over in her grave right now because I omitted the sweet ingredients, so I apologize for that, but we enjoyed our dinner sans fruit.  (I added a little Worcestershire sauce to the meat to up the flavor in place of the raisins and brown sugar.)  Also, I assembled this dish in advance and refrigerated it before baking it, so the cooking time was quite a bit longer than what was called for in the recipe.  I used a meat thermometer to make sure it was fully cooked.