Pears---the Other Fall Fruit

Pears—the other fall fruit. Around here we think of the fall fruit as the apple—no fruit is grown in greater volume and in more varieties than the apple—but its close cousin, the pear, is greatly loved as well. And deservedly so. Like the apple, its sweet, succulent flavor lends itself well to eating simply out of hand or to the wonderful desserts we like to make this time of year: pies, tarts, baked pears filled with nuts and dried fruit.

Pears come in several varieties; among them Anjou, Bartlett, Bosc, Clapp Favorite, Comice, Seckel and Winter Nelis. In Europe there are over 5000 known varieties. Around here, the Anjou, Bartlett and Bosc are found commonly in our markets. There are a few local farmers raising pears which you can find for a short time at the farmer’s market, if you’re lucky. I was lucky this year and the pears yielded the most delicious eating, though I’m not sure what variety they were. Like the apple, the pear belongs to the rose family along with plums, cherries, apricots, raspberries and strawberries. Pears were known to the ancient Egyptians, Romans and Greeks.

They are one of the few fruits which improve in flavor and texture when ripened off the tree so they are picked when mature but hard. When choosing pears, pick those that are firm but not hard and yield to slight pressure at the stem end. Pears bruise and discolor easily, so handle them gently.

Any recipe that calls for apples can generally be made with pears resulting in a delicious and different taste and texture. Pear sauce, like apple sauce is delicious served with a lacing of heavy cream and brown sugar. Caramel and vanilla are the flavorings often paired with pears (hmmm?), but they are delicious poached in wine and fruit juices. For something really different and delicious try the Oven Poached Pears in Pomegranate glaze. These are best made with Bosc Pears.

Three-fourths cup dry red wine
Three-fourths cup pomegranate juice
½ cup sugar
1 stick cinnamon
2 tsp. grated orange stems, peeled
6 Bosc pears with stems, peeled
Vanilla ice cream

Heat oven to 350. Heat wine, pomegranate juice, sugar, cinnamon stick and orange peel in medium saucepan over medium heat until sugar dissolves, about 3 minutes.

Peel and core pears, leaving stems intact. Coring whole pears can be done using a melon baller and coring from the bottom of the wide end of the pear. Trim bottoms flat and stand upright in 8x8x2-inch baking dish. Pour pomegranate-wine sauce over pears. Bake pears until tender when pierced with a knife, basting pears with sauce every 20 minutes, about 1 hour total. Place pears on serving platter. Transfer pan juices to small saucepan. Simmer until reduced to two-thirds cup, about 5 minutes. Spoon glaze over pears. Serve warm or at room temperature with vanilla ice cream.

Candlelight Inn’s Champagne Pears with Custard Sauce

6 red Anjou pears
½ cup whole almonds, unblanched
½ cup whole walnuts
½ cup sugar
1 egg
2 cups domestic Champagne
½ cup dry red wine
One-fourth cup additional sugar

Pare and halve pears, removing stems. Using melon baller, take core out of pear. With small sharp knife, remove stem vein. Again with melon baller, enlarge the circle made from coring. Do not discard this portion of pear. Cut a small strip from bottom of each half, allowing the pear to lie flat in pan. Put these pear halves in a shallow, large Pyrex baking dish in which all twelve will fit.

Put saved portion of pear in work bowl of food processor. Add both kinds of nuts, sugar and egg and process until nearly smooth.

Fill pear cavities with this mixture; sprinkle with additional sugar. Pour Champagne and red wine into dish, not over pears. Bake for 1 hour at 400, watching so stuffing does not burn. If they begin to get too brown, baste juice over the pears.

Custard Sauce

1 3-oz package instant vanilla pudding mix
2 cups milk
1 cup half and half

Mix pudding according to directions, using the 3 cups of liquid instead of 2. Put into refrigerator to set. Spoon over pears in a stemmed dessert dish along with a bit of the pan juices.

Garnish with finely chopped, toasted almonds.

Pear Kuchen

Three-fourths cup flour
½ tsp. salt
1 tsp. baking powder
3 Tbsp. butter
1 3-oz. package vanilla pudding (not instant)
1 egg
½ cup milk
3 medium Bartlett pears
1 8-oz package cream cheese (not reduced fat)
3 Tbsp. apple juice
½ cup sugar
1 tsp. cinnamon
1 Tbsp sugar
Two-thirds cup chopped nuts

Beat the first 7 ingredients in mixer for 2 minutes. Spread mixture in a 10-inch spring form pan which has been sprayed with Pam.

Pare and core pears, removing stems. Slice thinly and place over mixture in pan. Drop cream cheese mixture over pears. Don’t allow to touch sides of pan.

Mix the cinnamon, sugar and nuts. Sprinkle over cream cheese.

Bake at 350 for 40 minutes.

Legacy of Cooking

When I was three years old my mom stood me on a footstool next to her at the kitchen counter wrapped in a big apron and equipped with my own set of cooking utensils: bowls, spoons, rolling pin, cookie cutters, baking pans—all in miniature sizes. In the beginning it was mostly play—but in time I really learned to bake and cook. Granted, not everyone has such an opportunity but I believe that a generation or two ago, most people (girls at least) watched or helped as their mothers, grandmothers and aunts lovingly prepared food for the family.


We are all familiar with what happened to that somewhat idyllic scene—Mom went to work.

The large migration out of the home to the workplace was met with a barrage of convenience foods, TV dinners and fast food restaurants. At the same time, after school activities took the place of Mom at home after school and meetings and practices necessarily ran into the family dinner hour. Now, instead of a family sitting down together at the table for dinner, various meal times are required—and various grab-and-go foods are the norm.

Is it a stretch to imagine that the age of obesity coincided with this change? There is no doubt that the processing of many foods to make them convenient is worrisome for health and weight. Fast food, while fine on occasion, when eaten two or three or more times a week is very unhealthy. There must be and there is a better way.

I am not suggesting that all moms quit their jobs, but it is possible to cook good, old-fashioned, healthy meals while still working—and teach our children to cook at the same time. The first thing is to make home cooking a priority. I insisted on Wednesdays and Sundays as family dinner days. This was difficult at first as my school age boys were all in athletics, church activities and other functions. I made it mandatory but also special and it wasn’t long before those two nights were our favorites. It was during those years when my budget was small and I had three growing boys that I learned all the shortcuts and money-conscious tricks that I still use and write about today.

If you take a few hours to instruct kids on weekends on how to do some simple chores in the kitchen and, especially, add some fun baking skills in, kids will take pride in making meals for the whole family. Use these sessions to make foods ahead for the week—to plan (my kids loved to help with that because they wanted their favorite foods) and to prep food to the cooking point and then freeze it.

Cooking isn’t fun if you don’t know basic techniques—and I am surprised by the number of grown-ups who don’t have a mastery of simple techniques. You can cook almost anything if you know the basics—so I am planning to teach some courses for adults in basic cooking this winter—please look for a schedule on my website, www.beckyhomecky.com.

Lastly, the legacy of American home cooking is at stake. Cooking is love in so many ways: it is love of great recipes handed down over the generations; it is love of family (what other creative activity is met with so much enthusiasm?), it is a way to give to others in your distant family and your community, it is a love of good food and good health, and it is a love of your American heritage. Since we are a country of immigrants, all the ethnic recipes from our ancestors have morphed into American versions that are just as American as apple pie: spaghetti, pizza, lasagna, Chinese stir fry, chow mein, stuffed cabbage rolls, goulash, French bread, and the list goes on.

Here’s a dinner that can be made in about 15 minutes of kitchen time and 30 minutes more for cooking. I have made this for years and years and all my children make it in their homes—everyone loves it!

Lynette’s Goulash
Garlic bread
Green salad

Lynette’s Goulash

1 # lean ground beef
½ medium onion, chopped
1 14-oz can diced tomatoes
1 8-oz can tomato sauce
1 cup water
Salt and pepper
1 cup diced processed American cheese (such as Velveeta)
1 lb. elbow macaroni, cooked to al dente stage (about 6 minutes)

Brown meat and onion in large skillet. Drain fat. Add tomatoes, tomato sauce, water and salt and pepper to taste. Cook on low until onion is tender. Add cheese and stir until melted. Drain macaroni and add to skillet; cover. Let sit off heat for 15 minutes. Serve.

This is my last column for the Republican Eagle. I have enjoyed every minute of writing and will continue to write a weekly article on my blog: www.btkd-lynette.blogspot.com. If you love cooking as I do, please join me there.

Mexican Breakfast

Have you ever stopped to think how many breakfast meats are made from pork? Bacon, sausage, ham—all are choice cuts of the hog. When you run a bed and breakfast, you do get lots of requests for special diets—but they are usually for gluten-free, vegetarian or just no pork. This past weekend we had a guest who could eat any meat except pork or beef.

I have developed some very good gluten-free recipes. Using a great book for baking without gluten (all wheat flours and rye), I have a wonderful bread recipe, as well as ones for muffins, pancakes and even cookies. If you’ve strolled down the aisles of the supermarket lately, you’ve surely seen the great new variety of gluten-free foods that are already made.

And vegetarians have been around for ages—so I can pretty much count on having some visit us and I keep vegetarian versions of my standard entrees for them. This last request for no red meat started me thinking, however, that it may be time to expand my repertoire of entrees and come up with one that has chicken in it. That would work for anybody since it seems that almost everyone likes chicken.

Chicken at breakfast seems odd. I’m not exactly sure why, just not our customary way of eating, I guess. I tried a chicken and apple sausage a while back and it was delicious—but oh-so-expensive! I might try making my own one of these days, but for now, I decided on a variation of chicken enchilada casserole to liven up the somewhat bland chicken.

The recipe I came up with used ideas from several I have found in cookbooks—none of which seemed exactly right. The way I made it was from some canned soups which I know many people eschew; you could certainly make home-made versions of the cream of chicken and cream of mushroom as well as your own homemade stock. If not, however, opt for the low-fat, low sodium versions of canned soup if you like.

The original version, which I served on the morning our no-red-meat guest was here, was made in a large casserole. The casserole was too liquid-y, so I decided to spoon it into individual ramekins for serving. Next time I am going to serve it as it is written here.

Lynette’s Chicken Enchilada Casserole (serves 12)

5 large chicken breast halves, skinned and boned
2 cups white wine or champagne
20 8-inch flour tortillas
1 can cream of chicken soup
1 can cream of mushroom soup
1 cup sour cream
1 14.5 oz.can Swanson’s chicken broth (or homemade)
2 Tbsp cornstarch dissolved in 2 Tbsp cold water
4 green onions, sliced (white and green parts)
1 7-oz can mild green chilies, chopped
8 oz. Colby-Jack cheese (shredded)
8 oz. Pepper Jack cheese (shredded)

Cook chicken in wine until almost done, being careful not to overcook. The chicken can be a little pink in the center. Cut into small chunks or shred. Heat chicken broth in a large saucepan. Add the slurry of cornstarch, re-mixed if necessary. Cook until thickened; add canned soups, sour cream, 1 cup chicken poaching liquid, onions, and chilies. Cook until smooth and hot, but do not boil. Dip tortillas in sauce; lay on plate and fill with some chicken and a little shredded cheese. Roll up and put into individual gratin dishes (two to a dish) or a large 10x15-inch casserole either of which have been sprayed with vegetable spray. Cover with sauce and sprinkle cheese on top. Cover dishes with parchment which has been cut to fit and then with aluminum foil. Refrigerate for 12 hours or freeze for up to 2 months. Bake refrigerated individual dishes 1 hour. Remove foil and paper and bake for 10 minutes more. Bake frozen for 1 hour and 15 minutes, removing foil and paper and baking 10 minutes more before serving. Sprinkle with paprika.

The starter course for this breakfast was a warm winter plum and cherry compote with cream. The casserole was served with a melon mélange and corn muffins. Dessert was a hearty apple crisp with vanilla ice cream.

Warm Winter Plum Cherry Compote

1 large can purple plums (or fresh plums)* with syrup
1 can sour cherries and juice
2 cups seedless red grapes
3 cups red wine, champagne or white Zinfandel or a mixture of wines
2 cups water
1 cup sugar
3 Tbsp tapioca
1 stick cinnamon

Pit plums and cut up into fourths. Place in large heavy saucepan with cherries, juice, grapes (I split large ones to release their juice), wine, water, sugar, tapioca and cinnamon. Bring to a boil; lower heat and simmer for 1 hour, stirring occasionally and adding water or fruit juice if compote looks too thick. Serve warm with heavy cream poured over the top.

*If using fresh plums, pit them and put them in the saucepan with 1 cup fruit juice (grape or apple); add ½ cup additional sugar and 1 Tbsp. more tapioca.

Diaries and days gone by.

The glorious Colorado peaches are in and unlike the iffy peaches from other places, they are really juicy, sweet and taste like the peaches of my childhood memories. If you are old enough you can remember when all the peaches were like that. I love them so that when I had an opportunity to buy in bulk I bought four crates.


What to do with four crates of peaches (and one of pears, I might add)? Well, something had to be done because they don’t last too long—they were pretty close to ripe when I took delivery. Unlike pears, peaches lend themselves very well to freezing, so that was my plan. I froze 2 ½ crates—choosing the ripest ones to process first and leaving the harder ones to ripen for a day or two. No way could I run the inn and freeze four crates of peaches in one day.

Then we took a trip to Minneapolis to visit my 90-year-old Dad. He surprised me with a diary written by his mother (and added to once a week by his dad) of their first year of marriage. The diary was started on January 1, 1917 and led up to their wedding on April 2, 1917. It ended on December 31, 1917. Perhaps the only way I can explain the effect it had on me is to quote from a few passages.

First to set the scene: Grandma lost her mother when she was 9 years old. Her father was an itinerant preacher and musician, so he parked his daughter in the farm home of a family named Mitchell near Dodgeville, Wisconsin. There she grew up as the hired girl for her keep, but ultimately became like a member of the family. I can remember visiting my grandparents and having “Grandma and Grandpa Mitchell” come for a visit. When Harry Dean left Magnolia, Minnesota (down in the southwestern part of the state, near Luverne), to earn his way, he ended up working the Mitchell farm one summer. There he met young Mamie Richards (Grandma). He came back for two more summers to work and also, I gather, to court Mamie. Then he signed on for year-round work on the farm.

January 1, 1917

Weather fine. 16 above. Windy. South wind. Washed clothes and cleaned upstairs. At Baileys for supper. Had roast chicken and spent the evening. Had a fine time. Kissed Harry goodnight and he kissed me and we both kissed together. Time: 10:30.

January 5,

Weather warm. North wind. I ironed today. Harry worked at wood all day. Kissed me before he went to work. I was home alone this afternoon. Harry wrote to his mother tonite. We sat up a little while this evening. Talked about matromoney (sic). Time 10:00.

January 7

Sunday. Weather cold and windy. West wind. We went to Sunday school this morning. No company today. Sat up this eve. Time: 10:00. One of my happiest days.

February 27

Weather warm and clear. Thawed. Harry hauled a load of furnature (sic) for Les Cutler to take up north. I washed clothes and cleaned kitchen floor. We figured up our accounts tonite. Time: 9 o’clock.

March 5

I went to town today and got my wedding garments. Folks all went in too and had their family picture taken. Harry stayed home alone and tended to things. I don’t know how much work he did because I forgot to ask him. We went to Literary practice tonite. Time: 10:20.

April 2 (Harry’s writing)

Big day. Place now Simons Hotel. Time 10 to Nine. Madison. Just got home from picture show. Arrived here about 5, had supper, then found room. We left home about 10 this morning. Was married at 12. Then had dinner at Mrs. Williams. Marie and Lino stood up with us. David was there. Had pictures taken at Fletchers, then walked to Williams. Chas. took us up to train. He and Dave riced us and here we are in our room ready to roost.

April 3. (Mamie)

Second day of our marriage. We spent the day roaming around in Madison. Are at Simons Hotel again tonite. Have had just a grand day. We went to movies tonite. They were good, only too sad. Going to bed now. Time 9 o’clock.

From that point on, the diary is a litany of the work they did. A few examples:

April 21

Harry cut and planted potatoes today. I baked cake, pies and bread, scrubbed floor and cement, planted lettuce, radishes and peppercress and helped make chicken pen. Harry and I went up after the mail tonite. Beautiful evening. I took a bath and Harry is taking one now. Time 9 o’clock.

April 24 (Harry)

Cloudy, quite cool with rain this eve. I plowed all day, Chas dragged. Mamie ironed, cleaned floor, ground horseradish. Time: 8:30, retiring. Everything is war. [World War I]

August: (various entries):

Harry threshed again today. I cleaned and scrubbed. Picked over beans,

Washed, baked bread, picked cucumbers and put some corn to dry. Harry soled 3 shoes and threshed today.

It goes on and on in the same way, threshing, baking, cleaning, making fences, cleaning the granary, hoeing, cultivating, scrubbing, and canning.

What does all this have to do with peaches? Well, Grandma was tragically killed in a car accident when she was 62 and I was 13. But I spent many summers of my childhood at their home in Magnolia. And one of the things that I remember best is being sent down cellar to get something for Grandma. First, the cellar was just that—wooden stairs leading down to a cement block and cement floor basement—all painted in gray marine paint—and clean enough to make her German ancestors proud. And shelves and shelves of gleaming jars filled with beans, peas, carrots, beets, cucumber pickles of all kinds, tomatoes, peaches and pears. I am sure there were other things as well.

After reading the diary, I was inspired to start canning peaches. And I discovered that I am my Grandmother’s granddaughter—I loved it! The procedure seems old-fashioned and I guess it is, but it is also rewarding in a way few things are. My rows of pickles (from last week’s column), peaches and pears—then pickled green beans, are lined up on my kitchen counter. I am enjoying looking at them there too much to put them away. Who knows what I will can next?

Here is how it’s done:

Wash sound, ripe, firm peaches. Be careful not to bruise them. Dip in boiling water till skins slip easily, about 1 minute. Or put peaches in large Dutch oven. Cover with water. Set to boil. When water has come to a slow boil, remove from heat and run cold water over all peaches in pan. Slip skins.

Halve peeled peaches (or slice, if you wish), and drop into a large bowl of water to which you have added lemon juice—or, use lemonade mix, adding about 4 Tbsp. per gallon of water.

Pack peaches carefully into hot, sterilized quart jars, using a wooden spoon handle to gently urge them into the jar, sunny-side-up. Leave ½ inch head space at top of each jar.

Make a light syrup: 2 cups sugar to 4 cups water. Yield 5 cups. Cover peaches with hot syrup, but keep the head space at the top. Use a table knife to chase out bubbles. Wipe jar tops with clean, damp cloth. Put lids on jars; screw down with bands.

Lower the jars of peaches into hot water in a large canner. It should come an inch over the jar tops. Cover canner. When water boils, start counting the processing time, 30 minutes for quarts of peaches. When the time is up take out the jars and set them on a folded towel. Let jars cool overnight. Test the seal. Label with the name of the produce and the date. Store the jars of peaches in a cool, dry place. Enjoy the fruits of your labor.

La Ha Mish Wee and Tabbouleh Salad

We are entering the “last rose of summer” period of the year. I love the changing leaves, the warm September sun and the cool nights foreshadowing crisp fall days ahead. I love the “new beginning” feel of September when everyone seems to be filled with energy for the new school year and the new high activity season. What a contrast to lazy summer days. This is the season many people go up to their lake places to begin shutting down and to enjoy the few weekends of lovely weather left.


Hoping to treat ourselves to such a weekend, we trekked up to West Silent Lake to our friends the Smiths who so kindly invite us each year—this year with our daughter

Elizabeth (visiting from Boston) and her boyfriend, Sean. The weather started out hot and humid so was perfect for tubing behind the boat. The cold front blew through at night and the second day was better for canoeing. Both activities bolstered appetites so we were ready for some great meals from the grill.

I took my famous Middle-Eastern dish, La Ha Mish Wee, and a great tabouleh salad. La Ha Mish Wee is the Armenian name for shish kabob. It can (and usually is) made with boneless lamb, but that isn’t popular with everybody, so I opted for beef. Diane (the hostess) made a marinated flank steak. Both dishes starred beef and both were made from a cheaper cut of meat—mine was sirloin tip and hers flank—but that’s where the similarity stopped. Diane’s flank steak was as tender as could be and, although it was good, my meat was on the tough side. Both of us marinated our meat for 24 hours—so I decided to see what made the difference.

Some kind of acid or alcohol turns out to be the answer. Marinade for tougher cuts of beef must have wine, beer, citrus juice or vinegar (tomatoes help, too) in order to actually tenderize your meat. The marinade for La Ha Mish Wee is usually only olive oil and garlic. Lemon juice is the obvious choice for an acid. A little red wine wouldn’t hurt, either. I don’t recommend using a tenderizer like Adolf’s as it has an enzyme in it that tenderizes—but over a long marinating period it will give your meat a mushy texture that is very unpleasant.

La Ha Mish Wee (6-8 servings)

2 lbs sirloin tip roast
1 each large red, yellow, orange and green peppers
1 large white onion
8 ozs button mushrooms, cleaned and halved
2 cloves garlic
½ cup olive oil
Juice from 1 medium lemon
2 Tbsp dry red wine

Cut meat, peppers and onion into bite-size pieces to spear on a skewer. Marinate in olive oil, lemon juice, wine and garlic for 24 hours. String meat and vegetables on skewers. Heat grill. Place skewers directly over coals; close cover. Grill until meat is done and peppers are beginning to blacken a bit. Serve in warm pita halves. Pour Yogurt sauce over filling in pita.

Yogurt Sauce

1 8-oz carton of plain yogurt
1 cup mayonnaise
1 garlic clove, peeled
½ lemon, squeezed for juice (or more to taste)
Salt and pepper to taste

Put all ingredients in blender and blend until consistency is like heavy cream. Serve with La Ha Mish Wee.

Tabouleh (6-8 servings)

1 cup dry bulgur wheat (cracked wheat)
1 ½ cups boiling water
1 ½ tsp. salt
1/3 cup fresh lemon juice
1 large garlic clove, minced
½ cup chopped scallions (include greens)
¼ cup (packed) mint leaves, chopped fine
¼ cup olive oil
Freshly ground black pepper
2 medium tomatoes, diced small
1 cup (packed) freshly chopped parsley

Combine bulgur, boiling water and salt in a bowl. Cover and let stand 30 minutes. Test to see if bulgur is al dente. Drain but do not rinse. Put into a bowl and add lemon juice, garlic, oil, mint, parsley and tomatoes. Mix thoroughly. Refrigerate at least 2 hours, preferably 24 hours. May be garnished with feta cheese and/or olives.

Marinated Flank Steak

1 2-lb flank steak
1 12-oz bottle low sodium soy sauce
1 12-oz bottle beer

Mix soy sauce and beer. Pour over steak in a shallow glass dish. Prick meat all over with a fork. Cover and refrigerate 24-36 hours, turning from time to time.

Heat grill to medium hot. Place steak on grill and cook, turning once, 5 minutes per side for rare, 6 minutes for medium and 7 minutes for well-done. Cut thinly on the diagonal and serve with a large green salad and garlic bread.

Healthy Eating

I just came back from my annual women’s weekend of bridge playing, joke-telling, reminiscing over the 25 years of our friendships and, of course, eating.


As we are aging the topic of health seems to loom ever more prevalent. The recipe we discuss the most is one for a long, healthy and enjoyable life. Our “special treats” for the weekend have changed drastically over the 25 years that we have gathered at Mary’s cabin on Ottertail Lake. We always had good food—excellent as a matter of fact—but with less of an eye on sparing fat and cholesterol and sugar. But the excellence of our repasts has only grown as we strive for and actually choose healthier foods.

It helps that we usually meet in late August and also that Mary has a prodigious garden of vegetables from which we are urged to help ourselves to cucumbers, tomatoes, zucchini, herbs and leeks. Our meals resemble the Mediterranean diet more and more.

People have been studying the diet of the Mediterranean region for a long time, instinctively recognizing its health-giving properties. In recent years the body of research has adding scientific weight to the premise: the people of the countries along the Mediterranean including France, Italy, Greece and more generally enjoy longer life spans and lower rates of heart disease and cancers than people in northern Europe and the United States. It is largely made up of legumes, whole grains, fresh fruits and vegetables and, of course, olive oil. Some scientists believe that olive oil may actually be the key to the healthy Mediterranean cuisine. “If there is one ingredient that really defines this diet,” says Dimitrios Trichopoulos, M.D., of the Harvard School of Public Health, “it is olive oil.”

Olive oil graced our just-picked tomato and fresh mozzarella cheese nestled on a bed of basil leaves. Olive oil was at the base of the hummus into which we dipped our baked pita wedges. The pesto made with olive oil, basil leaves, was so loved that it became a second dip—even though it was slated for an accompaniment to another dish. Balsamic vinegar and fresh basil added to sun-kissed heirloom tomatoes made a fantastic side dish. We dined and drank red wine—another proven promoter of good health—and had a roaring good time (which doesn’t hurt one’s health, either). All in all, it was a very successful weekend and the eating was fine.

The food of the Mediterranean may seem exotic but it is easy to make and the ingredients are easy to find—especially now. Here’s a delicious vegetable soup served with pesto that will fill you up for almost no calories:

South-Of-France Vegetable Soup (serves 4)

5 cups defatted chicken stock, homemade or canned
1 cup rinsed and drained canned white beans or cooked dry white beans
1 cup diced potatoes
1 cup chopped tomatoes
½ cup thinly sliced carrots
½ cup thinly sliced onions
½ cup thinly sliced leeks
½ small zucchini, thinly sliced
½ cup halved green beans
½ cup cubed butternut squash
2 Tbsp chopped flat-leaf parsley
2 Tbsp fresh thyme or 1 tsp. dried
1 clove garlic, minced
½ tsp. ground black pepper
1 ounce whole wheat angel hair pasta, broken

In 4-quart pot, combine stock, white beans, potatoes, tomatoes, carrots, onions, leeks, zucchini, green beans, squash, parsley, thyme, garlic and pepper. Bring to a boil over high heat. Cover, reduce the heat to medium and simmer for 20 minutes or until the vegetables are tender. Stir in the pasta. Cook, uncovered, for 5 minutes or until the pasta is tender.

Pesto (makes 1 ¼ cups)

2 cups loosely packed basil leaves
3-4 cloves garlic, minced
2 Tbsp pine nuts
¼ cup olive oil
½ cup grated Parmesan cheese

In a food processor, combine the basil, garlic and pine nuts. Process with on/off turns until finely chopped. (Add a little oil as necessary to make blending easier.) Transfer to a bowl. Thoroughly stir in the oil and Parmesan to form a creamy sauce with the consistency of thick gravy.

To use add a spoonful to a bowl of the vegetable soup and swirl. Or spoon some over a platter of thick tomato slices and eat as a salad. Drizzle it over fresh goat cheese to spread on crusty bread. Add to hot pasta for a main dish, or as above, use as a dip for fresh vegetables or pita chips. It will store for a month in the refrigerator but stir it together before serving as it will separate as it sits.

The Best of Behind the Kitchen Door (repost from January 2010)

Every year when it is State Fair time, I think of the occasion when my mother won a blue ribbon for her bread baking but did not see the picture that was taken until she was in her 80's..  This is a picture of her at age 16 taken at the fair when she won.  Here is the rest of the story....

I think every older generation has said to the younger, "Things were much better when I was young." The young (including me when I was) roll their eyes and chalk it up to old age. Well, this time I think it may really be true.

I was born in April, 1944, just as the Second World War was coming to an end. I was born in a hospital in Minneapolis, Minnesota and brought home to a large, Victorian, red brick house on the corner of Olsen Highway (Hwy. 55) and Russell Avenue. The house has been gone for a long time, but back then it was the Queen of the block. It stood on a hill and besides being red--a standout color--it had a turret that towered over the smaller, more modest homes on the block. It had been purchased by my parents and turned into four apartments. Ours was on the main floor and the biggest--housing my mother, a homemaker who had left her teaching job when she was married in 1939; my father, a mechanical engineer for Honeywell and my three-year-old brother, Billy.

We lived in that house until I was four and I still have vivid memories of it. I can picture the interior precisely--and share this ability with my brother (my only sibling). My parents called me a few years ago because they were having a disagreement over what the kitchen table looked like in that house. Somehow, they knew I would remember--and I did. (It was a wooden, drop-leaf table with a Pennsylvania Dutch tulip design painted on one of the leaves). I also remember the neighborhood--and the neighbors. Across the street was a family with whom we became very good friends. And at the end of the street another family made a trio of us who socialized and were close. Those of us who are still alive keep in touch.

All the memories I have about that time were happy ones--making leaf houses in the fall, taking a penny down to the corner store and buying candy lipstick or wax coke bottles filled with sweet syrup, shopping with Mom at a small, family-owned grocery store on Lyndale Avenue, attending church every Sunday at Calvary Methodist Church. But the most potent memories center around food.

Mom was a great cook. She grew up in North Mankato, MN and belonged to 4-H and Campfire Girls. In those days, those organizations really taught young people skills. Consider her times--The Great Depression--people needed to know how to cook, sew, raise livestock and can and preserve the produce from their gardens. She did. When she was sixteen she won a blue ribbon at the county fair for her white bread. This qualified for a week's trip to the State Fair in St. Paul, all expenses paid. It was the highlight of her young life and she delighted in telling us the stories of that wonderful week. Once, about twelve years ago, she and my Dad were at the state fair, looking at displays under the stadium. Mom looked up and said, "Burdette, look at that!" It was a picture of my mom, age 16, (1926) posing in her white apron and cap with a beautiful loaf of bread. She hadn't ever seen the picture before. The fair people were very gracious in giving her that picture, which I own today.

When I tell people that I began cooking at age three, they tend not to completely believe me. But I really did. My mom doted on my girl-ness. She had three brothers, her mother had been the only girl of 6 children, most of her cousins were boys--as they wheeled her out of the delivery room after 36 hours of labor in the transverse position birth of my brother, she told my grandmother, "I supposed all my babies will be boys". In our family, being a girl was the most desirable. Many years later in a college Marriage and Family class, the subject of Gloria Steinem and Womens' Liberation was hot. I had a hard time digesting the idea that girls had been oppressed. For me, the opposite was true.

Well, back to the kitchen at age three. Mom would get me a step-stool and an apron and settle me right beside her at the counter. Anything she was baking (not other kinds of cooking), she would show me how to do. I had my own small dishes, pans and utensils. The one I remember best was my own small rolling pin. Pies and cookies were the the things we started with. She would show me how to mix my own dough and then tell me how to roll out and cut the cookies or the piecrust, always emphasizing not to handle the dough too much. I know that I didn't listen to that advice, at least not at first, because my doughs were dirty and tough. When mom would take her pie crust or cookies out of the oven and they were pretty and yummy; then mine, which were ugly and tough, I learned to listen.