"It's probably illegal to make soups, stews, and casseroles without plenty of onions."
Maggie Waldron
Former Director, Food Promotion & Recipe Development Division
Ketchum Communications, San Francisco
"Ketchum Food Center Celebrates 30th Anniversary:"
"The Behind-the-Scenes Wizard Who Brought You the Lean Potato:"
I'm coming out of it now. After skipping dinner almost every day for a week, I thought last night that I noticed something different. Yes, I was definitely coming out of it.
Two weeks of HFCDS.
Holiday Food & Cooking Derangement Syndrome.
I'm at risk for HFCDS every year. Something to do with the collection of 300 or so cookbooks, many brand management years in food companies, repetitive new product development requiring hours in food labs, food kitchens, and food tastings; and long hours behind the glass at food focus groups. Complicated by the benefit of age, with which comes the ability to cook even without a recipe. Sort of like the ability to play the piano by ear.
Symptoms include loss of appetite, lethargy around anything related to loading or unloading a dishwasher, an unconcerned "meh" response when any family member complains of hunger, and confusing cheese and crackers for a dinner entree.
I was actually hungry at lunch time today. That might have been a problem, because part of the recovery process for HFCDS requires me to stay out of grocery stores for a while. (Too much food there.) Which, I had done for almost the entire two weeks without regret. But, that didn't mean there wasn't anything to eat. It was just going to require me to actually think about it.
Three zucchini stared up at me, wrapped in swaddling paper towels and lying in the vegetable bin. Shannon will be upset to know that I bought them on December 31 with the idea of whipping up a batch of sauteed zucchini circles sometime around the Rose Bowl. And, something like roast chicken to go with it. But, I got lost somewhere in USC's 24-point second quarter, thereby redefining the term "squash," and never gave it another thought.
I took two of the three out - they were looking a little peaked, but would be OK with the help of a vegetable peeler.
A small, old block of gruyere looked like it needed a home soon, so I took that out. I shredded about two tablespoons of it onto waxed paper.
I threw the sliced zucchini into the skillet after about a tablespoon each of butter and olive oil started to bubble. Then, I sprinkled about a teaspoon of kosher salt and half a teaspoon of coarse black pepper over it. Since Shannon wasn't here, I knew I could peel and thinly slice one of the two shallots still on the counter without objection. When the zucchini started to wilt and it was time to flip the circles over, I tossed in the shallots.
When the zucchini looked like it had had enough (almost golden brown on both sides), I warmed my plate in the microwave, then slipped the drained zucchini/shallot mixture onto it. I whisked two eggs with a dash of salt and pepper in a separate bowl and poured them into another, smaller skillet after a teaspoon of butter started to brown. Since I like scrambled eggs that look like they've barely seen the heat, I turned off the gas within 30 seconds and flipped everything over a couple times. While the eggs were still very runny, I plopped them on top of the vegetables. The shredded gruyere went over all of that.
Yum. Sort of like a frittata, but not really.
I hadn't even finished this dish when I realized that my stomach had reconnected itself to my brain. My brain said, "What would Maggie do next?" Ah, yes. I'm really coming out of it now.
I was very fortunate to meet Maggie Waldron AND work with her in my late twenties. Since my work was in the Bay Area suburbs at that time, I loved nothing better than the need to go into The City for a day of work and consulting with Maggie in the Ketchum kitchen. She knew her way around vegetables -- oh yes, she did. Of course, she also knew her way around meat, fruit, pasta, and chocolate. But, it was her way with vegetables that probably impressed me the most.
For one thing, she wasn't afraid of them. She commanded them to do her bidding. Or, she coaxed them into submission. She wasn't afraid to cry over them. She laughed in the face of their recalcitrance. She was a very petite, soft-spoken genius with food. Born in Ft. Collins, Colorado. (I didn't know that at the time.) I have most of her books -- "Cold Spaghetti at Midnight" and all of her contributions to the "Country Garden Collection."
Maggie would say, well, we have this skillet sitting here. Since it isn't dishwasher-proof, are we going to go ahead and wash it, or use it again. It's already well-oiled -- let's saute something in it. It won't take long.
I mopped out the remaining oil and butter from the big skillet with a paper towel and looked around. There it was. The bowl with forlorn, leftover holiday purchases -- the "just in case" vegetables. Before lunch, the bowl had two shallots. Now it had five onions, one shallot and a whole head of garlic. Unlimited potential.
I looked in the refrigerator for other forlorn, leftover holiday purchases. There was one particularly pathetic subject. That container of ready-made "French Onion" dip. The "just in case" appetizer or time-killer item. It practically had the shelf-life of an MRE, even though it was from the fresh dairy case. The sell-by date read "March 9, 2009." There is just something so wrong about that.
There was no way I was ever going to eat this in its current state. I suddenly remembered the other item I didn't make as planned.
"Pan Fried Onion Dip"
Before HFCDS set in last year, I made a recipe of this dip from Ina Garten's "The Barefoot Contessa Cookbook." Ina is one of Martha's best buddies, and she is a good role model for career reinvention. She was a budget analyst in the White House in 1978 when she finally woke up from that stupor and realized that she needed to open Barefoot Contessa, a specialty food store in the Hamptons. Her recipes are simple, with no more ingredients than absolutely required, and always delicious. I made it last New Year's Day and didn't do it this year because we just had so much stuff going on without it.
I didn't have all the ingredients for it, but I could certainly do the caramelized onion part and fold them into the ready-made dip. I'd be miles ahead of the pitiful container as it stood, and down two onions from the leftover vegetable bowl.
Not even the prospect of tears from slicing onions would deter me now. Two hours later, Meredith walked in from school. "What smells SO GOOD in here?" It's nothing she will even try yet, but she can have no doubt that the stale air of HFCDS has lifted. And, that will mean something good for her -- soon.
Pan-Fried Onion Dip
Makes 2 Cups
"This dip is like the California dip we remember from our childhood, except it's the real thing, with slowly caramelized onions, and it's ten times more tasty."
Ina Garten, The Barefoot Contessa Cookbook
2 large yellow onions, peeled
4 tablespoons unsalted butter
1/4 cup vegetable oil
1/4 teaspoon ground cayenne pepper
1 teaspoon kosher salt
1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
4 ounces cream cheese, room temperature
1/2 cup sour cream
1/2 cup good mayonnaise
Cut the onions in half, and then slice them into 1/8-inch-thick half-rounds. (You will have about three cups of onions.)
Heat the butter and oil in a large saute pan on medium heat. Add the onions, cayenne, salt, and pepper and saute for 10 minutes. Reduce the heat to medium-low and cook, stirring occasionally, for 20 more minutes, until the onions are browned and caramelized. Allow the onions to cool.
Place the cream cheese, sour cream, and mayonnaise in the bowl of an electric mixer fitted with a paddle attachment and beat until smooth. Add the onions and mix well. Taste for seasonings.
Serve at room temperature.
CRD Notes:
1) Why both oil and butter? They need each other to bring out the best in each. The flavor of butter and the high smoking point of oil.
2) Don't drain the onions if you're making the entire recipe from scratch. The cooked butter and oil are essential to developing the silky texture you want in the finished dip. But, if you're doing what I did -- dressing up a ready-made container -- drain the oil and put the onions in a separate bowl to cool before adding to your store-bought dip.
3) Depending on your altitude, your cooking time may vary. The onions are finished when all of them are golden-brown, or darker. It takes whatever time it takes. Don't worry if some of the onions look like they're beyond consumable. Or, if you're like me and can't keep your hand out of the pan while they're browning, and you think they're overcooked. After you mix them into the wet ingredients, the onions will reconstitute to some degree. That shouldn't be a problem. In my opinion, the onions should have some "chew" in the finished dip. Otherwise, why bother?
4) Hellman's/Best Foods for the mayo.
5) When making the whole recipe from scratch, I think the finished result is better if you refrigerate it for a couple of hours before bringing it to room temperature for serving. In my opinion, it's too wet to serve immediately if you're using it for chip/veggie dip.
6) Other uses include anything you would normally do with dip. A big dollop on top of a baked potato is probably illegal in 42 states, but I recommend it anyway. I promise I won't tell anybody :)
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