HOME COOKING FOR WARM HEARTS

“Home cooking is best when . . .”

Fill in the blank.

Whatever you come up with is fine, but yesterday my group was amazing for many reasons.

First:

I was inspired from the day before by salmon hash served in Hey Love at the Jupiter Hotel Next.

My wife said it was one of the best things she’d ever eaten off my plate while guarding her shrimp ‘n grits.

‘One of these days I’ll make salmon hash better than this and it’ll be one of her best things,’ I thought.

With a full brunch crew of eight scheduled to arrive at 11 a.m., yesterday was hash day.

The Set Up For Home Cooking

Start clean with a good wash and rinse.

If you didn’t know already, coffee cups washed in a dishwasher don’t always come out stain-free.

Anyone new to the crew would see coffee stains and wonder what else needs better cleaning.

Since no one was new to the crew, they mentioned the coffee stains in good fun, then got a different cup.

“Is That Clean?”

After reviewing the menu I got started.

What’s the difference between hash and Shepard’s Pie?

Both have an element of ‘what needs to be eaten before it goes off?’

With a kitchen motto of “Don’t Throw It Away,” both meals have room for extras.

Usually I overestimate portions and end up with five time the amount of food for one dinner, or brunch.

I made a batch of chicken-curry soup last week.

Guess who ate chicken-curry soup three times a day?

It was one of those weeks thinking, ‘this is so good I could eat it forever.’

Turns out forever is about a week. But it was a good week.

Would I end up making gallons of salmon hash?

I’d be shocked if I didn’t.

Those Leaky Mushrooms

Did you know that mushrooms need to be cooked alone, then added? It’s because of the fluid release.

I didn’t.

So I chopped the mushrooms with three cuts, one on each side and one down the middle.

I watched them cook in the big silver pan at medium high heat.

Even in olive oil they stuck to the pan at first. After about four minutes they cooked in a sauce all their own.

It felt like a science experiment with the option of eating the results.

With the heat turned down low I cut up small potatoes and put them in the cast iron skillet.

Why the cast iron skillet? Because I like to say cast iron skillet.

And it reminds me of my dad and the huge cast iron skillet he cooked in for his kids.

Mine isn’t as big so I ‘bowled’ the cooked mushrooms and poured the potatoes into my huge silver skillet.

The only problem is lifting it with one hand. Even empty, it’s a handful.

It was a metal loop handle on the opposite side of the big handle and I still wonder why.

If I had three arms it would be perfect.

How does my wife do it?

Good Home Cooking Times

The mushrooms were done and potatoes halfway there when the brunch clock stuck eleven and the crew came in.

With the hard part over I cleared the big pan and sautéed onions, zucchini, then added the mushrooms and potatoes while the other chef cooked bacon in the oven on a parchment paper covered sheet pan.

With all the ingredients mixed, and bagels in the toaster, I cleared the big pan and scrambled a dozen eggs with a carton of egg whites.

In what could be classified as a minor miracle for modern times, two baby boomers, five millennials, and one joyously rowdy toddler all sat down at the table together on a Sunday.

For about thirty seconds, then baby made a break for it with the dog while rest chowed down.

(The picture in this segment came from a dinner I’m still trying to figure out.)

And Then?

A quick cleanup and a hot water soak for the big pan.

Me: I dedicate this brunch to one-pan cooking like we did on Boy Scout campouts.

Group:

From there everyone went out in the street and threw the football.

Wife: Why don’t you let the dog off the leash?

Me: Because she’ll run off.

Wife: No she won’t.

So I let her off the leash; she ran off.

Wife: I’m taking the girls out for a drink.

Me: After you catch the dog?

She caught the dog and made it look easy.

It’s never easy, but there are moments of grace.

With the girls gone and the dog calmed down I made a beer-run, a seltzer-run.

We watched some football, the women came back, and couple by couple everyone drifted off.

Before they left I boned a chicken, made chicken salad on toast with the crust cut off, and called it salade de poulet une tranche de pain grillé.

Charlie: I’ll get pizza for later.

Tyler: I’m taking the seltzer to my house.

With those words, and a memory of home cooking, we spent a beautiful Oregon evening outside playing corn hole and being together in a backyard under a huge tree.

Did I have a sense of fulfillment, or was it the seltzer?