Showing posts with label Cheddar Cheese. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Cheddar Cheese. Show all posts
Saturday, April 19, 2014
Tuesday, April 15, 2014
Creamed Corn Spaghetti
Prize-winning urban legend brought to life!
Horrifyingly, I was having a conversation recently with someone who had not heard of Dr. Bobb's Kitschen. Which means you people haven't been busy liking our Facebook page , talking us up at cocktail parties, distributing flyers around your neighborhoods, and whatnot. GET BUSY.
Anyway, back to my story. My friend related that her sister, many years ago, had a go-to recipe called "Creamed Corn and Spaghetti". The dish was apparently so delicious, and so frequently made, that the sister had submitted it to a newspaper recipe contest. But, feeling like maybe the recipe, on paper at least, was a little too....well, to be politic I'll say "down home" for a high-falutin' newspaper contest, sister submitted the recipe under her mother's name.
Long story short - recipe won, mother horrified, yadda yadda yadda, family lore is born.
It was Aristotle, I believe, who said that "The whole is greater than the sum of its parts," so let's do a little math with today's ingredients and see how that statement holds up.
Spaghetti + Cheese = awesome
Spaghetti + Butter = awesome
Butter + Corn = awesome
Corn + Cream Sauce = awesome
Spaghetti + Butter + Cheese + Corn + Cream Sauce = SUPER AWESOME
It's true! Thanks, Aristotle!
And why not mix all these things together? As my father used to say, while stirring the entire contents of his dinner plate into one giant lump of grayish matter that vaguely resembled food, "It all goes to the same place."
My friend couldn't recall the exact recipe - she believed it also involved cream of mushroom soup - but cobbling together a few different versions from the internets, I came up with the following:
1 can cream-style corn
1 can whole-kernel corn with liquid
1 cup (about 1/3 pound) spaghetti, uncooked, broken up
1 cup grated cheddar or mozarella cheese (I used a half cup of each)
1/2 stick butter, melted
Combine all ingredients in a casserole dish. Bake covered at 350 for 30 minutes. Uncover, and bake an additional 30 minutes.
You'll see that Dr. Husband struggled with his rating - Also due to the white-trashiness of the combination of ingredients.
Anyway, back to my story. My friend related that her sister, many years ago, had a go-to recipe called "Creamed Corn and Spaghetti". The dish was apparently so delicious, and so frequently made, that the sister had submitted it to a newspaper recipe contest. But, feeling like maybe the recipe, on paper at least, was a little too....well, to be politic I'll say "down home" for a high-falutin' newspaper contest, sister submitted the recipe under her mother's name.
Long story short - recipe won, mother horrified, yadda yadda yadda, family lore is born.
It was Aristotle, I believe, who said that "The whole is greater than the sum of its parts," so let's do a little math with today's ingredients and see how that statement holds up.
Spaghetti + Cheese = awesome
Spaghetti + Butter = awesome
Butter + Corn = awesome
Corn + Cream Sauce = awesome
Spaghetti + Butter + Cheese + Corn + Cream Sauce = SUPER AWESOME
It's true! Thanks, Aristotle!
And why not mix all these things together? As my father used to say, while stirring the entire contents of his dinner plate into one giant lump of grayish matter that vaguely resembled food, "It all goes to the same place."
My friend couldn't recall the exact recipe - she believed it also involved cream of mushroom soup - but cobbling together a few different versions from the internets, I came up with the following:
1 can cream-style corn
1 can whole-kernel corn with liquid
1 cup (about 1/3 pound) spaghetti, uncooked, broken up
1 cup grated cheddar or mozarella cheese (I used a half cup of each)
1/2 stick butter, melted
Combine all ingredients in a casserole dish. Bake covered at 350 for 30 minutes. Uncover, and bake an additional 30 minutes.
You'll see that Dr. Husband struggled with his rating - Also due to the white-trashiness of the combination of ingredients.
Our Rating: Two One Screaming Husband!
(all
dishes are rated from one to five Screaming Husbands. One Screaming
Husband equals a happy home where all problems are solved during
cocktail hour. Five Screaming Husbands signals the beginning of divorce
proceedings.)
Tuesday, February 4, 2014
Wienie-Lottas
Better Homes and Gardens Casserole Cook Book (1969)
This may be one of the easiest recipes I've yet gotten away with. It's perfect if, like me, you're having a busy spring and can't dedicate a lot of time to making hot, delicious meals for your family. Or, you know, iof you're just lazy. Also like me.
In my defense, the recipe for "Wienie-Lottas" (get it? It kind of sounds like 'enchilada', only you don't have to fool with any of that left-leaning foreign spelling!) looked a lot more complicated on paper, mostly owing to the fact that in 1969, apparently, one couldn't dash down to the local five and dime and pick up a bottle of enchilada sauce, but had to make it oneself.
I wasn't about to work that hard, but if you're so inclined, have at it. Here's the recipe:
8 to 10 frozen tortillas
2 10 1/2 ounce cans chili without beans
1 tablespoon instant minced onion
6 to 8 drops bottled hot pepper sauce
1 pound (8 to 10) frankfurters
1 8-ounce can tomato sauce
1/4 cup seeded and chopped canned green chili peppers
4 ounces sharp natural Cheddar cheese, shredded (1 cup)
Cook tortillas in water according to package directions. Combine next three ingredients. Place a frank on each tortilla; top each with 2 tablespoons chili mixture (reserve remaining). Roll tortillas around franks. Arrange, seam side down, in 12x71/2x2-inch baking dish. Combine remaining chili mixture and tomato sauce and pour over tortillas. Sprinkle with chili peppers. Bake at 350 for 25 to 30 minutes. Top with cheese. Serves 4 or 5.
Now, here's my version, with modifications:
1 package frozen tortillas, which you got for free from Maria at Maria's Taqueria because her order was mixed up and she had an extra pallette of tortillas
1 package hot dogs
1 jar enchilada sauce
1 package shredded Cheddar Cheese
Thaw tortillas in microwave. Roll 1 hot dog in each tortilla. Dump enchilada sauce over the top. Bake at 350 for 25 minutes. Top dish with as much cheese as you want (and admit it, you probably want the whole package) and bake for another 5 minutes. Top decoratively with cilantro.
So, there you have it. It's hot dogs in tortillas with enchilada sauce and melted cheese. So, perfection, essentially. Here's what Dr. Husband thought:
Our Rating: Two Screaming Husbands!
(all dishes are rated from one to five Screaming Husbands. One Screaming Husband equals a happy home where all problems are solved during cocktail hour. Five Screaming Husbands signals the beginning of divorce proceedings.)
This may be one of the easiest recipes I've yet gotten away with. It's perfect if, like me, you're having a busy spring and can't dedicate a lot of time to making hot, delicious meals for your family. Or, you know, iof you're just lazy. Also like me.
In my defense, the recipe for "Wienie-Lottas" (get it? It kind of sounds like 'enchilada', only you don't have to fool with any of that left-leaning foreign spelling!) looked a lot more complicated on paper, mostly owing to the fact that in 1969, apparently, one couldn't dash down to the local five and dime and pick up a bottle of enchilada sauce, but had to make it oneself.
I wasn't about to work that hard, but if you're so inclined, have at it. Here's the recipe:
8 to 10 frozen tortillas
2 10 1/2 ounce cans chili without beans
1 tablespoon instant minced onion
6 to 8 drops bottled hot pepper sauce
1 pound (8 to 10) frankfurters
1 8-ounce can tomato sauce
1/4 cup seeded and chopped canned green chili peppers
4 ounces sharp natural Cheddar cheese, shredded (1 cup)
Cook tortillas in water according to package directions. Combine next three ingredients. Place a frank on each tortilla; top each with 2 tablespoons chili mixture (reserve remaining). Roll tortillas around franks. Arrange, seam side down, in 12x71/2x2-inch baking dish. Combine remaining chili mixture and tomato sauce and pour over tortillas. Sprinkle with chili peppers. Bake at 350 for 25 to 30 minutes. Top with cheese. Serves 4 or 5.
Now, here's my version, with modifications:
1 package frozen tortillas, which you got for free from Maria at Maria's Taqueria because her order was mixed up and she had an extra pallette of tortillas
1 package hot dogs
1 jar enchilada sauce
1 package shredded Cheddar Cheese
Thaw tortillas in microwave. Roll 1 hot dog in each tortilla. Dump enchilada sauce over the top. Bake at 350 for 25 minutes. Top dish with as much cheese as you want (and admit it, you probably want the whole package) and bake for another 5 minutes. Top decoratively with cilantro.
So, there you have it. It's hot dogs in tortillas with enchilada sauce and melted cheese. So, perfection, essentially. Here's what Dr. Husband thought:
(all dishes are rated from one to five Screaming Husbands. One Screaming Husband equals a happy home where all problems are solved during cocktail hour. Five Screaming Husbands signals the beginning of divorce proceedings.)
Sunday, November 3, 2013
Special Edition: Sky-like Chili
Sky-like Chili
contributed by Dr. Bobb, Sharpsburg, MD
Much as I enjoy digging up disgusting mid-century recipes with which to torment Dr. Husband, the realities of today's economy dictate that I occasionally make something that won't immediately be sent down the garbage disposal. As it's a lovely, crisp fall day outside the historic test kitchen, I've decided to share with you my man-pleasing chili recipe.
BUT YOU GUYS, IT'S SUPER SECRET SO DON'T DO ANYTHING STUPID LIKE POST IT ON FACEBOOK OR YOUTUBE OR ANYTHING.
If you grew up in the kitsch triangle of Ohio-Indiana-Northern Kentucky (or, oddly, Ft. Lauderdale, Florida) you may have enjoyed the regional delights of Skyline Chili, also known variously as Empress Chili, Gold Star Chili, or the all-encompassing Cincinnati-style. I myself, although an Ohio native with ties to Cincinnati (well, my great-great grandfather owned a whorehouse there in the 1800's, does that count as "ties"?) never heard of it until well into my college years, but then I was hooked. If you find yourself geographically isolated you can find the real article, occasionally, in the freezer section of your local grocery, but my version is better, and I've found enough ways to cut corners that you can have it assembled and warming on the stove with enough time to swig down a couple of cocktails before husband gets home from the office.
The dish originated in the 1920's in Cincinnati's Greek immigrant community, and retains a decidedly Mediterranean spice combination. The soupy concoction is traditionally served either over spaghetti or on hot dogs, topped with mounds of cheddar cheese, and if you happen into an authentic Cincinnati Chili restaurant, you'll find suggestive menu options like the basic Three Way (noodles, chili and cheese); Four Way (all of the above plus either chopped onions or beans); and for the adventurous, the Five Way (the whole kit and caboodle.) A word of caution: Steak 'n Shake restaurants have menu items called Three Way, etc., but their chili is definitely NOT exotically-spiced in the Cincinnati way, and if you've ever had that version thinking that's all there is, then think again.
So, here's the recipe, perfected with trial and error by me:
1 1/2 pounds ground beef
1 medium Vidalia onion, chopped and divided*
2 garlic cloves, minced**
2 15-ounce cans tomato sauce plus 1 can water
1/2 ounce unsweetened chocolate, grated***
1 tablespoon chili powder
1 teaspoon black pepper
1/2 tsp. salt
1/4 tsp. each cumin, turmeric, allspice, cinnamon, cloves, coriander, cardamom
9 ounces spaghetti
1 15-ounce can kidney beans (optional)
1 pound cheddar cheese, finely shredded ****
Oyster crackers for garnish
Tabasco sauce (optional)
In a large skillet, brown the meat with the garlic and 3/4 of the chopped onion, storing and breaking up the meat as it cooks. Drain fat from pan. Add the tomato sauce and water and bring the mixture to a boil. Add the chocolate, salt, and spices. If time allows, add the spices one at a time, while talking to yourself and looking at the splash guard behind the stove as if you're doing a cooking demonstration on the Food Network. Cover and reduce heat to low, stirring occasionally, while you read a magazine or watch a story on tv, cocktail in hand.
When husband gets home, cook the spaghetti and heat the kidney beans, if desired.
To make each serving, start with a layer of spaghetti; top with hot chili, warm beans and/or chopped onions. Pat on shredded cheese so that it starts to melt. Garnish with oyster crackers and hot sauce.
*Use yellow onions if you must, but I use Vidalias in every instance where onions are called for. Maybe I've been spoiled by living in the south for a while, but they seem to be available year-round.
**I feel no shame in admitting that I use pre-minced garlic out of a jar. Also, 2 cloves is a general guess. I've never met a dish that suffered by having "too much" garlic added.
***You can grate your own chocolate if you're especially ambitious, but I gave up the effort long ago. I usually use a tablespoon of cocoa powder, but this evening I didn't happen to have any in the house, so I used a couple of mini Hershey bars leftover from Halloween. In past pinches I've used chocolate morsels, Swiss Miss cocoa mix, and chocolate pudding. Do what you need to do, ladies, but the chocolate is essential.
****I suppose, at this point, I need not advise you to buy pre-shredded cheese.
No rating this week, as I know that dishes like this are how I keep my marriage stable, but I WILL show you the proper assembly method:
contributed by Dr. Bobb, Sharpsburg, MD
BUT YOU GUYS, IT'S SUPER SECRET SO DON'T DO ANYTHING STUPID LIKE POST IT ON FACEBOOK OR YOUTUBE OR ANYTHING.
If you grew up in the kitsch triangle of Ohio-Indiana-Northern Kentucky (or, oddly, Ft. Lauderdale, Florida) you may have enjoyed the regional delights of Skyline Chili, also known variously as Empress Chili, Gold Star Chili, or the all-encompassing Cincinnati-style. I myself, although an Ohio native with ties to Cincinnati (well, my great-great grandfather owned a whorehouse there in the 1800's, does that count as "ties"?) never heard of it until well into my college years, but then I was hooked. If you find yourself geographically isolated you can find the real article, occasionally, in the freezer section of your local grocery, but my version is better, and I've found enough ways to cut corners that you can have it assembled and warming on the stove with enough time to swig down a couple of cocktails before husband gets home from the office.
The dish originated in the 1920's in Cincinnati's Greek immigrant community, and retains a decidedly Mediterranean spice combination. The soupy concoction is traditionally served either over spaghetti or on hot dogs, topped with mounds of cheddar cheese, and if you happen into an authentic Cincinnati Chili restaurant, you'll find suggestive menu options like the basic Three Way (noodles, chili and cheese); Four Way (all of the above plus either chopped onions or beans); and for the adventurous, the Five Way (the whole kit and caboodle.) A word of caution: Steak 'n Shake restaurants have menu items called Three Way, etc., but their chili is definitely NOT exotically-spiced in the Cincinnati way, and if you've ever had that version thinking that's all there is, then think again.
So, here's the recipe, perfected with trial and error by me:
1 1/2 pounds ground beef
1 medium Vidalia onion, chopped and divided*
2 garlic cloves, minced**
2 15-ounce cans tomato sauce plus 1 can water
1/2 ounce unsweetened chocolate, grated***
1 tablespoon chili powder
1 teaspoon black pepper
1/2 tsp. salt
1/4 tsp. each cumin, turmeric, allspice, cinnamon, cloves, coriander, cardamom
9 ounces spaghetti
1 15-ounce can kidney beans (optional)
1 pound cheddar cheese, finely shredded ****
Oyster crackers for garnish
Tabasco sauce (optional)
In a large skillet, brown the meat with the garlic and 3/4 of the chopped onion, storing and breaking up the meat as it cooks. Drain fat from pan. Add the tomato sauce and water and bring the mixture to a boil. Add the chocolate, salt, and spices. If time allows, add the spices one at a time, while talking to yourself and looking at the splash guard behind the stove as if you're doing a cooking demonstration on the Food Network. Cover and reduce heat to low, stirring occasionally, while you read a magazine or watch a story on tv, cocktail in hand.
When husband gets home, cook the spaghetti and heat the kidney beans, if desired.
To make each serving, start with a layer of spaghetti; top with hot chili, warm beans and/or chopped onions. Pat on shredded cheese so that it starts to melt. Garnish with oyster crackers and hot sauce.
*Use yellow onions if you must, but I use Vidalias in every instance where onions are called for. Maybe I've been spoiled by living in the south for a while, but they seem to be available year-round.
**I feel no shame in admitting that I use pre-minced garlic out of a jar. Also, 2 cloves is a general guess. I've never met a dish that suffered by having "too much" garlic added.
***You can grate your own chocolate if you're especially ambitious, but I gave up the effort long ago. I usually use a tablespoon of cocoa powder, but this evening I didn't happen to have any in the house, so I used a couple of mini Hershey bars leftover from Halloween. In past pinches I've used chocolate morsels, Swiss Miss cocoa mix, and chocolate pudding. Do what you need to do, ladies, but the chocolate is essential.
****I suppose, at this point, I need not advise you to buy pre-shredded cheese.
No rating this week, as I know that dishes like this are how I keep my marriage stable, but I WILL show you the proper assembly method:
Friday, March 1, 2013
Pickle-Cheese Pineapple
Pickle-Cheese Pineapple
Favorite Recipes of America Vol. III: Salads, pg. 335
I was on my way to my already-earmarked recipe for today (Party Pork Crown, coming soon!) when I stumbled upon this treasure. Aside from the delightfully ambiguous name (which can also double as a creative alternative to Rock-Paper-Scissors on a long car trip: Pickle sours Cheese, Cheese covers Pineapple, Pineapple smashes Pickle) but also because of the list of ingredients, because HOLY CRAP PEANUT BUTTER AND PICKLE RELISH TOGETHER.
I had always assumed that the scene in Auntie Mame when Doris Upson discloses that the secret ingredient in her tuna balls is peanut butter was meant as a parody of mid-century cooking, not a literal transcription. So I had to try it right away.
Favorite Recipes of America Vol. III: Salads, pg. 335
I was on my way to my already-earmarked recipe for today (Party Pork Crown, coming soon!) when I stumbled upon this treasure. Aside from the delightfully ambiguous name (which can also double as a creative alternative to Rock-Paper-Scissors on a long car trip: Pickle sours Cheese, Cheese covers Pineapple, Pineapple smashes Pickle) but also because of the list of ingredients, because HOLY CRAP PEANUT BUTTER AND PICKLE RELISH TOGETHER.
I had always assumed that the scene in Auntie Mame when Doris Upson discloses that the secret ingredient in her tuna balls is peanut butter was meant as a parody of mid-century cooking, not a literal transcription. So I had to try it right away.
l to r: Lee Patrick (Doris Upson); Rosalind Russell (Mame Dennis); Willard Waterman (Claude Upson). If you haven't seen the wonderful 'Auntie Mame' (1958) then you have no business here.
The recipe (unattributed to a single individual, perhaps wisely) is as follows:
2 8-oz. pkg. cream cheese, softened
1/2 c. grated process Swiss cheese
1/2 c. grated process Cheddar cheese
1/2 c. peanut butter
1/2 c. sweet pickle relish
Sweet gherkins
Combine cheeses, peanut butter and pickle relish; blend. Chill thoroughly. Shape into oval. Garnish with sweet gherkin slices and strips to resemble a pineapple. Serve as a spread for rye bread.
Things bought for this recipe: Peanut Butter, Cream Cheese, Swiss Cheese.
Things already on hand: Cheddar cheese, pickle relish, gherkins
Since it's just Husband and I, I halved the recipe, which may have affected the final shape I was able to achieve. But, oh! The empowerment of being felt artistic enough to craft my own pineapple shape! What a boon it must have been to mid-century housewives, finally able to make use of their art history degrees from Swarthmore!
Thankfully, for the un-artistic, a guide photo was included:
I was confused by the instruction to blend; should I hand-mix, or use a processor? Since it wasn't explicit, I went ahead and hand-mixed with a spatula, and it wasn't too difficult.
The sculpting medium of cheese-peanut butter is difficult to work with. It was awfully hard to avoid using my hands. I ended up using the plate it was sitting on as a potter's wheel, spinning it with one hand while I used the spatula to shape with the other hand.
I also, apparently, didn't see the instruction to chill before applying the gherkin pieces - I found that the "pineapple" tended to lose its shape, so once complete I stuck it in the freezer for about 15 minutes to let it set.
What we thought: Licking the spatula after mixing, I was pleasantly surprised. It was slightly reminiscent of pimento cheese, there was hardly a hint of peanut butter OR pickle relish, the overwhelming taste was the cream cheese.
After pulling it out of the fridge for husband, I'm ashamed to admit that my sculpting skills let me down. On first sight, he exclaimed "Oh, it's so cute!" But when asked to identify what he was looking at, he first guessed "octopus," then "bathing cap". Only when prompted with the clue "Hawaiian fruit" did he correctly identify it.
His reactions on first taste, in order:
"What are you trying to do to me?"
"Is this what I think it is?" (He, also being a devotee of Auntie Mame, thought it might be the peanut butter-tuna combination)
"Hmmm, it's not bad."
My own second taste determined that chilling had really brought out the peanut butter flavor, so much so that it couldn't be hidden. Not that it was entirely bad. My own mother has long extolled the virtues of peanut butter and dill pickles together, so maybe there's something to it after all. In the course of "tasting" the concoction (spread on pumpernickel rounds) we managed to eliminate nearly half of it.
If you're game to try it, you might spice it up a bit...add some red pepper flakes and basil, maybe, try to pass it off as a Thai recipe. All in all, not nearly as horrible as it looked on paper.
Our Rating: Two Screaming Husbands!
(all dishes are rated from one to five Screaming Husbands. One Screaming Husband equals a happy home where all problems are solved during cocktail hour. Five Screaming Husbands signals the beginning of divorce proceedings.)
(all dishes are rated from one to five Screaming Husbands. One Screaming Husband equals a happy home where all problems are solved during cocktail hour. Five Screaming Husbands signals the beginning of divorce proceedings.)
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