cooking

Wanderlust — Montenegro Dreams

~ adriennecohen221 ~ Leave a comment

As a child, I was captivated by people who lived lives very different from my own, and by the sounds of words spoken to a different cadence. The pull of the unfamiliar was strong. I do not remember a time when I didn’t want to experience far away places.  I never outgrew the wanderlust. Today, the rhythm of a foreign language is music to my ears and the promise of a trip is reason enough to pack up.

And those strange-sounding names; oh, yes!

The pull of unknown places is strong. So, when Kotor, Montenegro, was one of the ports on a Princess cruise itinerary, it was almost impossible to resist. I knew next to nothing about Montenegro; in fact, I had to pull out my atlas to locate it.

We were in port for only one day. That was 2017, in the fall. Today, as I think about that visit, I find it hard to believe that all those good memories were formed in the course of one afternoon. Now I want to return again!

The place, the people, the history speak loudly of life well-lived and fine experiences just waiting to be had. Even more seems promised on a second visit than I experienced during the original. But that first visit could hardly have been better! The scenery, both the ancient city buildings and the surrounding limestone cliffs, is stunning, with hand-built stone walls stretching for more than three miles above the town. The scene is both awesome and forbidding.

Arriving in the City

Our day began with a quick tender ride between our ship and the city dock. Once on land, we were efficiently directed to a guide who was to accompany us on a stroll through Kotor’s marketplace prior to joining a local chef to hear about traditional Montenegrin dishes. We were to sample a variety of regional favorites.

We don’t normally sign up for ship’s tours — we don’t do groups well, preferring instead to walk at our own pace and make our own discoveries. But this one was different.

The stroll turned out to be more of a brisk walk as our group skirted the walls of the ancient city before arriving at the

market. Stalls were filled with olives and cheeses, figs and dried apricots, colorful produce, plump breads, pastries and chocolates, sausages, ham and fresh fish – vendors offered samples, encouraging us to try unfamiliar fruits, to sample various figs and olives, to buy spices and olive oil. It was tempting, to be sure.

Welcome Freely Offered

But, we had a schedule to keep, and we pushed on to the end of the harborside thoroughfare before taking a turn onto a tree-lined lane bookended with private gardens. While our group had envisioned gathering in a local café, we were delighted to be ushered through a courtyard and into a cozy home, greeted by a vivacious blonde who wore pearls with her casual slacks and tee.

She greeted us warmly in only-slightly accented English, and introduced her husband, a former sea captain, who stood ready to pour each of us our choice of strong aperitif even though it was not quite 10 a.m. But, when one is on vacation and a guest in someone’s home . . .

Each of us accepted a glass, then followed our hostess’s lead and raised our glasses in a mutual toast — to new friendships, good food and good times. She encouraged us to feel at home in her home. Each of us found a comfortable seat in the art and antique-filled sitting room. I chose a spot around a diminutive lace-draped round table.

We learned about the life experiences of this lady and her husband. Her many-faceted career, as author, cook, lecturer, tour guide, and who knows what else, was a bit of a surprise, proving that reinventing oneself knows no cultural or geographic boundaries. We also learned about her husband’s exploits at sea and of his ancestors whose portraits hung on the walls.

After a bit, she disappeared for a few moments into the kitchen. We were invited to take seats at a long banquet table that nearly overfilled a well-proportioned dining room with a view of the garden.

Sharing Food, Building Bridges

Treated like honored guests, we sampled plate after plate of appetizers, a delicious soup, a traditional entree, and, finally, a rich dessert, all accompanied by a parade of local wines. We listened with rapt attention as she demonstrated how to prepare a traditional Montenegrin recipe.

We were not really prepared for Montenegro. Yes, we knew some of the history: Kotor is a unique medieval fortress town, with an array of buildings that span from the 12th through the 16th Centuries. It’s impossible to walk through the old town without visualizing pirates along with priests, noblemen and beggars, monks and blacksmiths, painters and writers, physicians and printers.

The small city, with a population of approximately 13,000, is situated in a secluded portion of the long Bay of Kotor on Montenegro’s Adriatic Coast. Less than 1,000 people actually live within Kotor’s historic walls, and its earliest history is a bit muddied; it is first mentioned in ancient literature in about 168 BC, but some authorities believe it was founded as early as the 5th Century BC. It was known at one point in history as Acruvium, part of the Roman province of Dalmatia. No matter the date, Kotor now holds the status of a UNESCO World Heritage Site, and the city’s fortifications testify to a succession of foreign occupations and battles. Once allied with Dubrovnik, it gained independence from Byzantium until it was later occupied successively, and repeatedly, by the Serbian Empire, the Republic of Venice and the Ottoman Empire, the Hapsburg Monarchy and, finally, the Napoleonic Kingdom of Italy. It played significant roles in both World Wars.

After 1918, the city that saw some of the fiercest battles of the war became part of Yugoslavia, and gained its new name of Kotor. It was not until 2006, however, that Montenegro, part of the former Yugoslav Republic, become truly independent

With that much turmoil and turnover in its history, it may be surprising that Kotor endured. But endure it did, and today it boasts one of the best-preserved old towns in the region, along with its impressive fortified old city walls and its stunning Cathedral, built in 1166.

The Cathedral of Saint Tryphon is a major tourist site, one of two cathedrals in this unique small city that was formerly known as Cattaro. Saint Tryphon has a collection of beautiful art and artifacts, in addition to its notable architecture.

What else sets Kotor apart from its neighbors? There is a distinguished maritime museum and the Kotor Festival of Theater for Children has attracted throngs of visitors from throughout Europe for the 30 years it has been held. Citizens of Kotor are also protective of their cats, symbols of the city. Food and water, along with boxes that serve as shelter, are left throughout the city. Kotor Kitties is a chartable services that provides spay and neutering services in an attempt to limit the population, but the cats are as much a part of the city as the smiles of its citizens. Don’t miss Cats’ Square if you visit, and be sure to take home a cat-themed souvenir.

I hold fading memories of the cats, the cathedral, the city walls, and the sparkling sea. But I have a clear recollection of the taste of fresh olives and figs from a vendor in the city’s market, and of the stories told and the laughter shared around a dining table in the home of a charming couple in Kotor!

Grandmother’s lessons

~ adriennecohen221 ~ Leave a comment

Thanksgiving was low-key at my house this year. Not that there isn’t an abundance of things to be thankful for, but our small multi-generational family had an abundance of plans for the extended holiday. We gathered Thursday for what was to be a simple midday meal, before scattering in different directions to enjoy the long weekend.

What was to have been a small turkey breast to serve five (with enough left for a few sandwiches) became a 12-pound turkey. (The market had no fresh breasts available, and we had not built thawing time into the schedule; the option was a “smallish” fresh bird.)

The rest of it? A mix of traditional and easy prep. One large — overly large, as it turned out — fresh from the garden salad that boasted tiny boiled potatoes, green beans and dried cranberries. Roasted yams and wild rice stood in for mashed potatoes and cornbread stuffing. Savory pumpkin gratin, recipe courtesy of Jacques Pepin, homemade cranberry-orange relish, and a freshly-baked Challah, as pretty to look at as it was good to eat, kept kitchen prep time to a minimum.WP_20171123_14_01_38_ProAs usual, “simple” morphed into too much!

Friday, we were content with turkey sandwiches, salad and television movies. Saturday was a quiet day, with only a few must-do’s, and no plans for a “real” meal. Snacking at will was the order of the day.

When faced with options, make soup

I am grateful that my grandmothers were good cooks, and that I had a chance to hang out in their kitchens many years ago, not only during holiday preparations, but afterwards as well.

I learned the truth of “Waste not, want not,” and I learned to “make do” and make meals out of what was on hand. I also learned that simple meals are best!

Those were lessons well learned.

So, for Saturday supper, soup it was. Pan drippings and turkey parts that would have become gravy had we served mashed potatoes and dressing on Thursday became the catalyst. Leftover wild rice added heartiness. Fresh celery, carrots and onions, constant staples in the refrigerator crisper, are the basis of any good homemade soup, right? And leftover Challah is still delicious!

It was a large pot of soup, enough to feed son and daughter-in-law who stopped in unexpectedly Saturday evening, with enough “left over” for Sunday lunch.

No pie, you say? Well, not exactly!

It bears repeating that our Thanksgiving was pared down and simplified in many ways. There was no pie — not pumpkin, not apple, mince or pecan. No brownies, no ice cream. Apples and oranges, yes, but even they went untouched. None of us suffered from a lack of food; desserts were not missed.

However, I had purchased pie crusts, just in case. (No, I do not see any reason to make my own!)

So, for tonight’s dinner, the plan is to have Turkey Pot Pie. Actually, I can picture it already: Colorful carrots, peas and potatoes joining small bits of turkey meat, oozing with creamy goodness and threatening to bubble up through the golden crust. Chilled (leftover) cranberry sauce will add color and tart flavor to the simple dinner. With a green salad, it will be nutritious and more than ample.

Will one pie suffice to clear the refrigerator of leftovers? I am not yet sure, but if there’s enough turkey to make two, I will be happy to have an extra to pull from the freezer.

On this weekend, especially, I am thankful to have the blessings of home and family, a warm, comfortable hearth, good health and good food.

And those leftovers!

How to know if you’re a food snob

~ adriennecohen221 ~ 2 Comments

 . . . and what to do about it!

Some people celebrate their snobbery, of course, by reading restaurant reviews before making a reservation, cultivating their knowledge of the proper wine to accompany a rare steak or a traditional Welsh rarebit, diligently identifying every ingredient and perfecting the most unusual preparation techniques.

That’s okay — absolutely! The joys of cooking and eating are individual pursuits.

But good food is found in unusual places and, at least sometimes, under the oddest of conditions — on street corners, in out-of-the-way neighborhoods, in unexpected circumstances. Good food is also found, commonly and abundantly, around a simple family dinner table, whether it’s a hearty soup, a warm casserole, a generations-old treat, or a weeknight family get-together. Good food does not have to be fancy, and it can also be fast.

Food, at its best, is a celebration. Breaking bread together is an honorable tradition in every culture around the globe. It’s not in a literal sense that sharing food is so important, but in the wider sense of sharing a small slice of life with other people, be they family members or strangers, along with the slice of beef, the slice of pizza, or the slice of pie.

It’s the connection that matters; food is the glue that binds us together.

I happened to catch the last few minutes of a Jacques Pepin cooking show recently on PBS and was transported back to the time I spent in Paris as a young woman. French food was so good; learning how to prepare it properly seemed so unattainable. And then I learned.

What I learned is that French cuisine, at its heart, is simple food. It’s crafted from simple ingredients, picked fresh from the garden, or purchased fresh from the market. It’s peasant food and, as such, often there are no recipes, just general guidelines. It’s meant to be shared, with friends and family, both the preparation of it and its consumption. It evolves naturally from what’s available.

Iconic French onion soup illustrates the point — humble onions and a bit of butter combined with dry bread and a some leftover cheese! It’s a classic. But, at its heart, it is simply a “make do” meal for times when no meat is available.

Although I never met him, I feel as if I know him. Jacques Pepin’s brand of kitchen reality resonates with me; he is the chef I would most like to spend time with in the kitchen, or have as a guest at my dinner table.

Yes, I know that he once prepared dishes for the presidents of France. I know that he’s a renowned chef, and that he has written cookbooks and mastered all the fancy kitchen techniques. I know all that, but as I watch his shows, and see him interact with his family and friends, I can’t help but appreciate how this 80-year-old chef views food, with a sparkle in his eyes, and a smile on his lips. It’s always a celebration.

“The love of food, and cooking, is passed down from generation to generation, with favorite recipes at the heart of every family. What do you say to that? Happy cooking!” Jacques Pepin.

I am convinced again that this is the way we all ought to approach food — in our own kitchens, laughing and sampling and experimenting — tasting as we go along — just the way Jacques Pepin does. My grandmothers did that too. They sampled food with their fingers, added a “bit of this and a pinch of that,” rarely followed a recipe exactly, and always let the “young’uns” lick the spoon and sample the pie crust tarts hot from the oven. They also learned to “make do” when necessary.

PBS stations around the country air a final 26-week series on Jacques Pepin, “Heart and Soul,” this fall. Check local stations for scheduling. Segments from a previous series, entitled “Jacques Pepin: fast food my way,” are available to watch online.