'Clam' Chowder, or, A Disaster Story

In the interest of making all the recipes in the box, I often stumble across dumb ones that were culled from magazines, newspapers, or ads. This is one of those recipes-- it's really just 'make a can of soup, and serve with a pat of butter.' But clam chowder is hard-ish to find here in Scotland, and I've always wanted to try making it myself.

So I figured one night for dinner last week that we'd give it a try. I once watched my mother-in-law made clam chowder and it seemed pretty easy, so I thought Judson and I could surely handle it, with the help of some internet resources for inspiration.

Here is something I didn't count on: the fishmonger, when I dropped by to buy fresh clams, told me he had no clams because, and I quote, 'the water around Scotland doesn't get cold enough for clams.'

I wish I had an image of the deadpan face I gave him when he said that because I really thought he was joking and if you don't understand why, you've clearly never been to a Scottish beach (where the water never gets above 50F/10C). But evidently it's true, and the balmy waters of Scotland are not home to many clams. Armed with this knowledge, I headed to Tesco where I planned to buy jarred clams, which I assumed would work just as well. But when I got to Tesco, I could only find jarred cockles. 'That's fine,' I thought to myself. 'We'll just have cockle chowder! I'll invent this new dish and before you know it, people the world over will be ordering it in restaurants near and far! How different could a cockle possibly taste from a clam?'

Very is the answer to that question... if the cockles happen to be pickled.

To redeem myself for the horrors of this recipe, here's a picture of the new hand-carved white pine spoon I bought to scoop salt with.

I assumed naively that the cockles would be brined in saltwater, but it turned out they were pickled in some kind of vinegar (the internet recommends making pickled cockles in malt vinegar, so maybe that's what it was?). Not only did they taste exclusively of pickle, but they definitively did not match the creamy potato chowder I had prepared for them.

Don't get me wrong, we proceeded anyway (partly because we had no other dinner food in the house; partly because I felt that I couldn't give up). I hoped some of the pickle flavour would soak out in the soup and be absorbed by the potatoes, but it did not. As an additional slap in the face, it turns out that cockles are just a type of saltwater clam (not the coquinas I thought they were). We still haven't determined what pickled cockles are supposed to be used for, and so far all of my Googling has produced only recipes for making your own pickled cockles, no recipes for things to put them into.

The verdict:

1 spoon out of five. Might I go ahead and recommend that you don't make this soup? However, if you're so inclined, next time you make an actual clam chowder, top each serving with a wee pat of butter. It makes the soup extra creamy and flavourful and even more perfect for sopping up the last drops with a crusty baguette.

The recipe:

Pickled Cockle Chowder

the directions:

Rinse the cockles well in cold water.
Prepare the clam chowder as directed, except swap pickled cockles for clams.
Serve with a pat of butter on each bowl, and don't expect anyone to finish ask for seconds.

the ingredients:

Your favourite clam chowder recipe
2 jars of pickled cockles

Baked Noodles Romanoff

Eleanor, as we've discussed, was Polish by heritage, if not by birth. As a first-generation American, though, I'm sure her childhood meals were mostly comprised of Polish-type foods. I'm especially sure of this, because even my childhood meals often included slightly Polish foods: I was the only person in my first-grade class to have ever even heard of a pierogi, and I remember eating potato pancakes fairly frequently as a kid, too.* And every year until she died, Eleanor and her friends made sauerbraten and potato dumpling, curing the meat for days before inviting all of their friends over for a massive feast.

So when I found the recipe for Baked Noodles Romanoff in the box, I wasn't surprised-- it sounds like a Polish dish (creamy noodles with bread crumbs? Duh.) and even the name sounds pretty Eastern European (although I assumed it was based on the Russian Romanovs-- of Anastasia fame-- which is most decidedly is not). In fact, for awhile I even thought it was just going to be a savoury kugel (a Jewish dish made with egg noodles, a custard-y base, and garnished as you like), but then I realised that kugels containing cottage cheese are probably pretty rare.

So, you ask: if it's not a kugel, then what is it? In short, Noodles Romanoff is basically a cross between a kugel and a meatless stroganoff. It's insanely easy, super comforting on a rainy autumn night, and, though it was delicious on the night we made it, it was even better tonight, topped with a soft-boiled egg and a ton of red pepper. It's sort of like a fancy man's 'refrigerator pasta,' where you just use up whatever is in your fridge about to go bad and mix up a bowl of pasta to go with it, but it's way more delicious. It may not be healthy, but with a sauce made of cottage cheese, it's still not as bad as a cream-based pasta dish could be.

I looked it up to see if this was a common dish in Poland or otherwise, and I was surprised to learn that it was a pretty popular meal in the mid-20th century. So popular, in fact, that almost the only reference to it that I can find on the internet is a reference to Betty Crocker's boxed Noodles Romanoff mix. (This is all news to me; I just assumed that, much like Pollo Alla Verona, this recipe was just kind of a made-up one). So if you remember days of eating Noodles Romanoff from a box, or even if you don't, try this dish. It's easy, it's delicious, and you get to mix up a bunch of spices like a mad scientist, so you know it's gonna be fun.

Smooth cottage cheese is strange and pretty.

*I kind of forgot about pierogis, until we moved to Edinburgh, where there's a strangely high proportion of Polish grocery stores that sell the best pickles I've ever tasted and all the possible types of pierogis you can imagine. Also, Judson's Polish hairdressed introduced him to Polish vodka shortly after we moved here, and our lives (not to mention our Moscow Mules) haven't been the same since.

The verdict:

4 spoons out of five. This was really good, but the leftovers kind of required the egg to make it moist enough to enjoy for a second time. However, it's one of those 'set it and forget it' meals, where you can put it in the oven, wash all the dishes you dirtied, and finish just in time to eat it in your sparkling clean kitchen. It's definitely worth making, and who knows-- your version might even beat out Betty Crocker's!

The recipe:

Baked Noodles Romanoff

The directions:

Cook noodles according to directions on package.
Meanwhile, preheat oven to 176C/350F and grease a casserole dish or deep-dish pie pan.
Mix together bread crumbs, spices, and parsley, then set aside.
Drain noodles and combine with cottage cheese, sour cream, and parmesan.
Pour mixture into prepared casserole and top with prepared bread crumbs.
Bake 20-25 minutes, until golden brown and delicious.

the ingredients:

8 oz. egg noodles
8 oz cottage cheese, beaten or whizzed in the food processor until smooth
8 oz sour cream
½ c parmesan, grated
½ c bread crumbs
1 tsp parsley
Spices of your choice

Spices I used:

Oregano
Marjoram
Dill
Smoked Salt
Pepper
Smoked Paprika
Onion Powder
Garlic Powder
You don't need all of them, just whatever you want to use!

El's (Ersatz) Pound Cake, or, Easiest One-Bowl Pound Cake

When I was a kid, my mom made Pound Cake all the time. All the time. It just became part of the landscape for me because it was around so often, and I've always loved it. When I was in college, my mom used to make me an entire pound cake to take back to my dorm with me anytime I came to visit, and those days when I would walk into Smith Hall with a giant tin of pound cake to share with my hallmates are some pretty amazing memories. (Plus, the car ride from Raleigh to Atlanta always smelled a lot better with a cake in the passenger seat next to me!).

I've made a lot of riffs on my mom's pound cake: adding in peaches when I lived in Georgia, adding in cocoa when I wanted something more dessert-y, glazing it with lemon or dusting it with powdered sugar just to make it prettier, but my favourite way to eat it is still just plain. I haven't made a pound cake in ages-- they're not exactly cheap cakes, and they'll totally deplete your pantry if you're not careful, after all. But I was thrilled to find this recipe for Eleanor's Pound Cake in the box to see where my mom drew her inspiration from. This is definitely not the same recipe as my mom used when I was growing up (hers was sour-cream based, while this one has milk as the star ingredient), but it's delicious all the same, and it's interesting to see where my mom gained her baking knowledge from.

Weirdly, this recipe is labelled as 'El's Pound Cake,' but it's from Eleanor's own box, so I'm not sure why she felt the need to further explain it. It's also written in what could well be the sloppy predecessor to my mom's impeccably neat, font-like handwriting, on the back of a receipt for dry cleaning, which I just love. Based on the fact that the dry cleaner was in Florida (where Eleanor didn't move until the late 1950s) and my mom may have been the one who wrote it down, I'm pretty sure this one comes from the mid-to-late 1960s. While not a decade known for their culinary delights, this cake is amazing, not least of all because there is no ingredient in it that measures a pound... so why, in fact, is it even called a pound cake?

I don't know if pound cake is particularly common over here in Scotland, so just in case you haven't heard of it/had one, it's a cake traditionally made with one pound of every maind ingredient in it (flour, sugar, milk, butter/shortening). It's a dense, moist cake that goes absolutely perfectly with a cup of coffee for brunch, but can also make a perfectly fine snack or dessert. Most importantly, this one is a one-bowl recipe, which means you really have no excuse not to make it ASAP.

Additionally, I know that technically you can make a pound cake in any pan, but I grew up with my mom making it in her trusty bundt pan, so it never even occurred to me to make it in anything else.* If you choose to do the same, then note that this doesn't rise a whole lot and will only fill a standard-size bundt pan about halfway (if you have some of those adorable smaller bundt pans, this would be the perfect time to give them a try!). Even in a standard-sized pan, it still cooks up just fine, so don't worry if your pan looks only half-full. Alternately, in lieu of a bundt, you could make this in a loaf pan and it would still be just fine.

*Incidentally, my mom and Eleanor's proclivity toward bundt pans may be another sign of Eleanor's Polish heritage shining through-- in doing my research to make sure I was using the correct terminology, I learned that bundt pans originated in Germany and Poland, where they were used for making cakes called gugelhopfs.

The verdict:

4 spoons out of five. I'm really torn on this one-- it's not as good as my mom's (unsurprisingly), but it is really, really good. And so far 100% of the people who have tasted this one have voted strongly in favour of it, so it's getting 4 spoons.

Notes:

As mentioned above, you can tweak this by throwing in a handful of fresh or frozen fruit, adding a few spoonfuls of cocoa powder, a handful of chocolate chips, or (my favourite) swap the vanilla for additional lemon juice, then add some lemon zest and lavender buds, or anything else your heart desires.

We got new mugs that I'm really excited about, because they somehow match the vintage plates i bought years ago at a 1950s thrift shop.

The recipe:

El's Pound Cake

the ingredients:

3 c flour, sifted*
1 ½ c sugar
1 c shortening
4 eggs
1 c milk
2 tsp vanilla
1 tsp lemon juice

*The recipe calls for 'prepared flour,' and I didn't know how to prepare it other than to put it in a measuring cup, so I sifted it. This is probably optional.

The directions:

Preheat oven to 176C/350F.
If your pan is not non-stick, grease and flour it lightly.
Beat all ingredients for at least 5 minutes.
This will seem much longer than necessary, but the original recipe calls for 20 minutes. I compromised and beat mine for 10 because I figured today's mixers are probably infinitely stronger (and, because I use a transformer with an American mixer in my expatriate kitchen, I get nervous about leaving the mixer running for too long because it starts to sound funny).
Batter should be very smooth, light-coloured and have the texture of a can of paint.
Pour evenly into your pan, smooth the top and bake 40-45 minutes, until a wooden pick inserted all the way in comes out with just a crumb or two.