Goldy's Kitchen Cookbook Read online

  ¼ cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese

  ¼ cup chopped scallions (including tops)

  ¼ teaspoon paprika

  ¼ teaspoon cayenne pepper, or more to taste

  1. Preheat the oven to 350˚F. Butter a 9-inch springform pan.

  2. In a bowl, combine the bread crumbs and melted butter and press on the bottom and sides of the springform pan. Bake for 8 to 12 minutes, or until very lightly browned. Set aside to cool. (Leave the oven on.)

  3. Cook the spinach according to the package directions, place in a strainer, and press out all the liquid. In a large bowl, with an electric mixer, beat together the cream cheese, heavy cream, mustard, and salt until smooth. Add the eggs, one at a time, and beat well after each addition. Add the spinach, grated cheeses, scallions, paprika, and cayenne. Beat on low speed until well combined.

  4. Pour the mixture into the prepared crust and bake for about 1 hour 5 minutes, or until the filling is set and browned. Cool for 15 minutes on a rack.

  Makes 12 servings

  Huevos Palacios

  —STICKS AND SCONES—

  The Boulder Chili that accompanies this dish is not vegetarian. You can use vegetarian chili, if you wish.

  1 cup Boulder Chili (recipe follows) or canned vegetarian chili (if making all-vegetarian)

  4 large eggs

  ¼ cup heavy (whipping) cream

  ½ teaspoon salt

  ¼ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper

  2 tablespoons unsalted butter

  ½ cup regular or light sour cream

  1 cup grated Cheddar cheese

  1 medium tomato, seed pockets removed, and chopped

  2 scallions, chopped (including tops)

  1. If using the Boulder Chili, make it and allow it to cool.

  2. In a bowl, lightly beat the eggs with the cream, salt, and pepper. In a broilerproof nonstick medium skillet, melt the butter over medium-low heat. When the pan is hot, pour in the egg mixture. Cook over low heat until the edges begin to set. With a heatproof silicone spatula, gently push the edges of the cooked egg into the center of the pan, using a minimum number of strokes. Tilt the pan so that the uncooked portion of egg flows out into the bottom of the pan, making an almost-even overall layer of egg.

  3. Position a rack 6 inches from the heat and preheat the broiler.

  4. In a small bowl, mix the sour cream and Cheddar and set aside. When the eggs are about halfway done (i.e., when they are about half liquid and half solid), spoon on the chili in 3 spokelike lines that divide the eggs into 6 equal sections. (The eggs will look like a pie.) Scatter the chopped tomato and scallions between the lines of chili. Carefully spoon the sour cream–Cheddar mixture on top of the chili spokes. Do not worry if some spreads off the chili.

  5. Place the pan under the broiler and broil, watching carefully, for 5 to 7 minutes, or until the eggs are done and the cheese has melted and puffed slightly. Serve immediately.

  Makes 4 large servings

  Boulder Chili

  1½ pounds lean ground beef

  1 large onion, chopped

  2 large or 3 small garlic cloves, crushed through a press

  5 tablespoons tomato paste

  1 tablespoon prepared powdered chili mix

  1 tablespoon Dijon mustard

  1½ teaspoons salt

  Contents of one 14.5-ounce can chopped tomatoes

  1 tablespoon Italian seasoning

  Contents of one 15-ounce can chili beans in chili sauce, undrained, such as Kuner’s

  2 tablespoons Pinot Noir or other dry red wine

  In a large sauté pan, sauté the beef, onion, and garlic over medium heat until the beef is just browned and the onion and garlic are tender. Reduce the heat to low and add the tomato paste, powdered chili mix, mustard, salt, tomatoes, Italian seasoning, and beans. Add 2 tablespoons spring water and the wine to the chili bean can and scrape down the sides, then pour into the beef mixture. If the mixture is too thick, add up to 2 tablespoons more water. Heat over medium-low heat, stirring occasionally, until bubbling.

  Chuzzlewit Cheese Pie

  —SWEET REVENGE—

  I set one mystery in a public library, which inspired dishes named from Charles Dickens’s works. (See also the Bleak House Bars here.)

  2 cups half-and-half

  8 tablespoons (1 stick) unsalted butter

  ½ cup all-purpose flour

  1 teaspoon baking powder

  ½ teaspoon kosher salt

  ¼ teaspoon cayenne pepper

  2 teaspoons Dijon mustard

  8 large eggs

  ½ pound extra-sharp Cheddar cheese, grated

  ½ pound Gruyère cheese, grated

  1. In a small saucepan, heat the half-and-half over medium-low heat until very hot but not boiling. Remove from the heat.

  2. In a large saucepan, melt the butter over medium-low heat, add the flour, and whisk a couple of minutes, until it bubbles. Slowly add the half-and-half, whisking constantly. Cook and stir this cream sauce until it thickens and is very smooth. Remove from the heat and set aside, stirring frequently, until cool enough to touch with your (clean) finger.

  3. Preheat the oven to 350˚F. Butter a 9 x 13-inch glass baking dish.

  4. In a small bowl, whisk together the baking powder, salt, and cayenne. Stir this mixture into the cream sauce along with the mustard. Whisk until smooth. (Do not reheat.)

  5. In a large bowl, with an electric mixer, beat the eggs until they are frothy. Keeping the beaters going, slowly add the cooled cream sauce and beat on low speed until completely combined. Toss the cheeses together, then thoroughly stir them into the egg-cream sauce mixture. Pour into the prepared baking dish.

  6. Bake for 40 to 45 minutes, or until the pie is puffed, brown, and set in the middle. Serve immediately, as the pie deflates as quickly as a soufflé.

  Makes 8 large servings

  Asparagus Quiche

  —DARK TORT—

  When local fresh asparagus appears in the grocery store and at farmers’ markets, it’s time to pounce. This dish turns that lovely vegetable into an entrée.

  ½ pound fresh asparagus, tough ends trimmed, cut into 1½-inch lengths

  4 large eggs

  ¼ cup heavy (whipping) cream

  1 teaspoon Dijon mustard

  ½ teaspoon salt

  ¼ teaspoon paprika

  ⅛ teaspoon cayenne pepper, or more to taste

  1 cup small-curd cottage cheese

  1 cup grated Gruyère cheese

  ¼ cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese

  1. Preheat the oven to 350˚F. Butter a 9-inch deep-dish pie plate.

  2. In a small sauté pan with a lid, heat about ½ cup spring water just to a boil. Pour in the cut asparagus, cover, and remove from the heat. Allow the asparagus to steam, off the heat, while you prepare the other ingredients.

  3. In a large bowl, with an electric mixer, beat the eggs on medium speed until they are very well blended. Beat in the cream, mustard, salt, paprika, and cayenne on low speed until well combined. Using a heavy wooden spoon, stir in the cheeses, stirring until well combined.

  4. Drain the asparagus. (It should still be bright green, with a tender, slightly crunchy texture.) Arrange it over the bottom of the pie plate. Pour the egg mixture over the asparagus and place the quiche in the oven.

  5. Bake for 35 to 40 minutes, or until the quiche has puffed, browned, and set in the center. Allow to cool 5 minutes before slicing.

  Makes 8 servings

  Note: Since this is a crust-less quiche, it should be served with rolls or other bread.

  Julian’s Summer Frittata

  —FATALLY FLAKY—

  Maybe a frittata is indeed a fancy name for an omelet. Who cares? The kids will undoubtedly call it “scrambled eggs” anyhow.

  ½ pound fresh broccoli

  6 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil

  1 red onion, sliced

  8 ounces fresh baby spinach

  8 ounces fresh but
ton mushrooms, cleaned, trimmed, and finely chopped

  2 tablespoons unsalted butter

  ½ cup finely sliced scallions (including tops)

  12 large eggs

  1 cup heavy (whipping) cream

  1 teaspoon kosher salt

  ½ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper

  ½ cup finely chopped or grated Havarti cheese

  ½ cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese, divided

  1. Preheat the oven to 350˚F. Line a rimmed baking sheet with foil.

  2. Rinse the broccoli, remove the stalks and discard. On a large cutting board, chop it into florets. Measure out 2 cups and reserve the remainder for another use.

  3. Place the broccoli on the baking sheet and toss with 1 tablespoon of the olive oil, then put the onion on top of the broccoli and pour 2 more tablespoons of oil on top. Bake for 10 minutes, stir, then return to the oven for 15 minutes, or until the broccoli is tender. Remove from the oven and allow to cool slightly. (Leave the oven on.)

  4. While the broccoli and onion are cooling, rinse the spinach and, in a medium covered saucepan over medium heat, use only the water clinging to the leaves to steam until wilted. This only takes a couple of minutes. Watch carefully; do not scorch. Drain and allow the spinach to cool. When the spinach is cool enough to handle, use paper towels to carefully wring out all liquid. Remove the spinach to a cutting board and chop it.

  5. Using a clean cloth towel that can be stained, or paper towels, wring all the liquid out of the mushrooms.

  6. In a large ovenproof skillet, melt the butter over medium-low heat. Add the scallions and mushroom pieces and cook until the mushrooms begin to separate. Remove from the heat and place the scallion-mushroom mixture, along with any liquid, into a bowl. Wipe out the skillet.

  7. In a large bowl, beat the eggs until they are well blended, then blend in the cream, salt, pepper, Havarti, and ¼ cup of the Parmesan. Mix the cooled spinach, broccoli, and onion into the egg-cheese mixture. Heat the remaining 3 tablespoons of oil in the skillet over medium heat, just until it ripples. Carefully pour the egg-cheese-vegetable mixture and the scallion-mushroom mixture into the skillet. Stir to combine.

  8. Sprinkle the remaining ¼ cup Parmesan on top.

  9. Place the pan in the oven and bake for about 25 minutes, or until the center is set.

  Makes 8 servings

  Ferdinanda’s Florentine Quiche

  —CRUNCH TIME—

  This is our family’s favorite quiche. The original recipe, over which I would make changes through the ensuing forty years, came from a fellow art history graduate student, Deb Berek, to whom I am forever grateful.

  To my dismay, Ferdinanda’s Florentine Quiche is the one recipe in a Goldy book that was printed with an error in the first printing of the hardcover of Crunch Time. I’d doubled the recipe when I was testing it, so I could take two of them to a church function. Unfortunately, I forgot to cut the cottage cheese back in half when I typed up the recipe for the book. Later versions of the published recipe (including this one) contain the correction.

  Rice crust:

  1 large egg

  2 cups cooked rice, at room temperature

  ⅔ cup grated Gruyère cheese

  Filling:

  One 10-ounce package frozen chopped spinach

  2 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted

  3 large eggs

  1 cup small-curd cottage cheese

  2 tablespoons heavy (whipping) cream

  1 teaspoon Dijon mustard

  ½ teaspoon kosher salt

  ⅛ teaspoon paprika

  ⅛ teaspoon cayenne pepper

  ⅓ cup grated Gruyère cheese

  ¼ cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese

  For the rice crust:

  1. Butter a 9-inch glass pie plate.

  2. In a bowl, beat the egg until frothy. Add the rice and Gruyère and stir well. Press this mixture into the buttered pie plate. Set aside, or refrigerate, covered, until you are ready to make the quiche.

  3. When you are ready to make the quiche, preheat the oven to 350˚F.

  For the filling:

  1. Cook the spinach according to the package directions. Drain thoroughly, place in a sieve, and press out all the liquid. Place the spinach in a bowl and stir in the melted butter.

  2. In a large bowl, beat the eggs until frothy. Stir in the cottage cheese, cream, mustard, salt, paprika, cayenne, and grated cheeses. Stir until well mixed. Add the buttered spinach and stir again, until well mixed. Pour the spinach mixture into the rice crust.

  3. Bake for 35 to 40 minutes, or until puffed, golden brown, and set in the center. (Check the center with a spoon to be sure it is no longer liquid.) Allow to cool 5 minutes. Slice and serve.

  Makes 8 servings

  Chapter 3

  Spuds, Salads, Etc. or My Editor Is Also a Vegetarian

  Yes, it’s true. It would seem as if vegetarians are taking over the world, or at least the publishing industry. Carolyn Marino, who was an editor for Catering to Nobody and has edited my last six novels, and, bless her, this cookbook, is a vegetarian who also requested more meatless dishes.

  But there is another reason why this chapter of Goldy’s Kitchen Cookbook is titled Spuds, Salads, Etc. While learning how to cater, I noticed something interesting: Green vegetables, everything from broccoli to haricots verts, were rarely served hot at a party for, say, forty people or more. The reason was that you could not keep the vegetables at a high enough temperature to feed all those folks hot vegetables without overcooking said vegetables. You could serve vegetables if you cooked them between layers of cheese, because the cheese would keep them hot. But cheesy green beans don’t quite work with steak and the inevitable cheesy potato dish, which is what catering clients clamor for. So green salads, in their many forms, are usually what caterers serve with the protein and starch.

  Some of these spud and salad recipes were originally published with bacon, ham, chicken, etc. That said, you will probably have at least one vegetarian at your next party. But the carnivores will not be happy if you omit meat from their meals. My advice is to fix your dishes in a vegetarian manner (i.e., omitting the meat), and buy one of those spiral-cut hams to serve at the end of the buffet.

  Since I receive many, many more questions about the writing and editorial processes than I do about cooking, I want to add that an editor does more than ask for recipes. She can help a writer figure out what needs to be taken out, put in, or—even more fun—be developed.

  I adored the movie Shakespeare in Love. Hearing of this, my editor at the time, Kate Miciak, insisted that Goldy cater a Tudor feast. To do this, I had to go to England for research. (Please don’t throw me in that there briar patch!) And as it happens, the Tudor kitchens at Hampton Court are almost perfectly preserved. Given that many castles were destroyed by fire, this alone is a miracle. For example: a Tudor pastry chef created a cake topped with actual miniature cannon. When the cake was served, the cannon blew real gunshot that ignited a blaze that destroyed an entire section of the castle. The dangerous activity of baking bread for any castle was often relegated to beehive-shaped ovens located beside the river, so that sudden conflagrations could be doused.

  Doing the research was fun. That said, I came to the conclusion that folks of today would not particularly relish foods served during the Tudor era, even at the royal table. Why? At court, the spectacle was the thing. A peacock would be skinned in such a way that the head, raw skin, feathers, and feet could be set to the side in one piece. Then the bird itself would be roasted. The head, raw skin, feathers, etc. would then be put back on the roast, so that servants could hold the peacock aloft, feathers fanned, as they processed into the banquet hall, where the peacock would be served. Food poisoning, anyone?

  Knowing all this, perhaps it’s no wonder that so many people in publishing eschew meat.

  My writing parallel here is that good editors can help you realize when you’re going down a rabbit hole. Even though people ask where wri
ters get ideas, the truth of the matter is that writers have many more ideas than they can possibly develop. Sometimes you have an idea, from an article you read, or something funny that happened in the gym. (Nothing funny has ever happened to me in a gym, but never mind.) You think, Wow! Great story here! And then you work on it for a couple of weeks or months—or years, if you’re very unlucky—and send it to your editor, who says that in fact, it is not a great idea, because it has no zing. She will ask, where’s the oomph, the vigor, the emotional power? And you reluctantly admit that there is none of the above. Best to start over.

  As with characters, the key that will unlock a writer’s motivation on a story is the energy—good or bad, light or dark—that one finds in that energy. Once the story takes on a life of its own, you’re golden. Or at least, you have a chunk of ore.

  It seems I have many issues that are fraught. (Who doesn’t?) But issues that involve one’s children are the most fraught of all. And since I always have Goldy’s voice in my head, I experience those challenges with her reaction as well as mine. A chance conversation created a Goldy-in-my-head moment that led to The Cereal Murders.

  The necessary background to this story is that Jim and I pulled one of our children from an overcrowded public school, then took out loans to get him an expensive college preparatory education. We discovered too late that without the money to support a country-club lifestyle—including fancy cars for tenth graders and yearly trips to Europe—our nonathletic son would not be considered cool. Unfortunately, those rich kids chewed up our offspring and spit him out in little pieces.

  But we knew none of this when we took on massive debt to send this son through middle and high school at a place where the joke was, How many parents does the headmaster trip over on his way to a member of the Coors family?

  Our child was subject to numerous physical and emotional humiliations. (This was before there was the awareness of bullying that there is now.) Still, when we brought the horrible kids’ behavior to the attention of the head of the middle school, he scoffed. “I can’t legislate morality,” he announced. Goldy (and I) thought, Then why are you here?