The Beginning of Lessons Learned

I have been a cooking machine this weekend in a kind of an obsessed way. I'll finish one dish or one meal, and I'm already thinking of what I can do next. There is a thin layer of flour and cocoa powder in my kitchen right now, for the first time ever, and I think this is the fastest I've every gone through a dozen eggs, a bag of sugar, and a box of unsalted butter. And in the midst of all the prepping and cooking and cleaning up, I've learned a few things...in addition to having some pretty good food, if I do say so myself.

Lesson #1: Cooking is an inexact science, no matter how perfect I want to be.

I came home from work Friday night thinking about cauliflower, a cauliflower gratin recipe I had seen on a wonderful blog I recently found, called "The Wednesday Chef" (see my Blogs list on the left column). The recipe sounded decadent (gruyere cheese sauce, for one) and it didn't seem too difficult or time-consuming for a Friday night after a long work week. Plus my mom did actually have a cauliflower gratin recipe in her collection. So I thought I would try combining the two recipes to see what would emerge. If I hadn't boiled the cauliflower for too long, and possibly added a bit more salt, it would have been perfect. But slightly imperfect is okay too. The term "make it work" applies to fashion and cooking, as it turns out. Cooking is all about experimentation and improvisation and coming up with answers to questions that arise during the middle of a recipe. Although I have all of these recipes from my mother, I know that following them to the letter will not necessarily result in the dish that I remember from my childhood, because I am certain my mother, like every mother that came before her, improvises each time she makes it. Maybe while the cauliflower is cooking, you have to run to the pottie with your 2-year-old and don't get to watch it closely enough to avoid the inevitable mushy vegetable dilemma. Maybe you think using a little extra salt and a little less butter would improve things a bit. Whatever the case may be, recipes are roadmaps, but we can feel free to take detours...or some metaphor like that.

For the Cauliflower Gratin recipe, visit The Wednesday Chef)

To accompany the cauliflower and the steak my husband was handling, I decided to go old school with Southern Greens as a second side dish. Growing up, we would have a Southern Dinner every once in a while that would consist of pork chops or ham, black eyed peas, greens, turnips, and macaroni and cheese. Pone cornbread was usually on the table as well. Rarely have I had greens without the rest of the meal, but I had bought one of those pre-washed packages of a mixture of greens and needed to use it before they were mush in my crisper. (Note: husband doesn't like cooked greens of any kind, notably spinach, so this was another gamble I was willing to take.) Mother just gave me this recipe the other day in the list of items I had requested specifically, most of which she had no recipe for other than the one in her head. She usually used mustard greens, but this was a blend of mustard, collard, and kale. Throwing caution to the wind, I decided what the hell, let's give it a go (since I was feeling so obsessed and ready to try anything). Turns out, this was the greatest success thus far; so good, I actually ate the leftover greens the next day and wished I had more. Try them! You might like them. I'm happy to report, my husband did...that makes two conversions in one week. I'm on a roll.

Southern Greens

1 lg package of mixed greens (kale, collard, mustard, turnip)
4 strips of bacon (or a ham hock, if you have one laying around)
2 Tbsp butter
salt to taste
pinch of sugar

Cut bacon into small strips, and brown in a large stock pot. When bacon is cooked, add the greens and fill the pot with water to cover the greens about 1/2 way. Bring to a boil and add butter, salt, and sugar. (Note, this is a Granny Lula Tip: sugar melds the flavor of any vegetable). Reduce heat to low/medium and simmer until greens are tender but not mushy, about 45 minutes to an hour; check often. Plate the greens and add just a touch of white vinegar to each serving. (If you keep a small bowl of vinegar by the stove, it will help reduce the odor of the greens cooking; yep, it actually works!)

More lessons to come from the weekend cooking extravaganza...