Retro Recipes and Traditional Fare

I have always been a fan of macaroons; almond, hazelnut, pistachio, and especially coconut.  Through the years, I have made lots of versions of this classic Passover cookie, but none as good as the one’s I found on The Michaels Restaurant Blog.

Last year, I made over 400 macaroons for the Passover Seder at our Temple.  Although I enjoyed making them, I didn’t want to look at another macaroon for some time.  

This past week our temple hosted a journey through Egypt, ending with a Seder (for the kids only). Obviously, I was asked to bring the macaroons.

This recipe for macaroons is simply one of the best.  And each and every time I bring these to someones house, I am reminded of how good they are by how well they are received.

Sometimes, Thursday’s roll around and all I really want to do is grab a friend and sneak out to a 10 a.m. movie. Eat popcorn for lunch and then come home and take a nap before the kids get home. This is merely a fantasy (aside from an occasional nap) and dinner on this particular day of the week can be easily coined, “use it up, Thursday”.

I have made a vow to stick to the weekly meal plan and no matter what, I swear off an unplanned visit to the grocery store, just because I saw something on the Internet that made my mouth water. I save that inspiration for the following week’s meal plan. Not only is this a huge time saver, but it also saves money.

It’s on this day that I clean out the vegetable bin, take inventory of what can be used for the following week, make the meal plan and lastly, type up  the grocery list. Over the past year, I have made a conscious effort to create meals with the inventory on hand.

There was a time when gathering people around a fondue pot to cook their own food was very popular. It was the 1970's I think – about the same time I got married. My husband and I recieved three of these "communal" pots as wedding gifts. I think I remember using one or two of them one or two times soon after the wedding. And then they sat. For years.

My experience with fondue was very limited. I remember going to a Minneapolis restaurant with my parents on special occasions where they would serve a a bowl of cheese fondue warming over the flame of a tiny tea candle. Each table of diners would recieve this bowl of melted deliciousness along with a basket of crunchy, house-made garlic croutons. As a young girl, the process of poking one of those toasted chunks with a long, slender fork and dunking it into the warm cheese before popping it into my mouth, felt quite elegant.

And, I do remember a couple of times when my parents had friends over for a "fondue party." It was a long, drawn-out affair, with the meal lasting for hours as each person skewered a piece of meat with a fondue fork and placed it into a fondue pot full of hot, bubbling oil to cook. It's definitely not fast-food. And it's not a meal in 30 minutes or less. It's slow food.

It's well known that paprika is the famous spice of Hungary. What I think most people don't realize is that the red powder is made from ripened peppers also called paprika. The word paprika means pepper in Hungarian, and I don't mean peppercorns, but rather the fruit or vegetable, depending on how you look at it. Hungarian sweet peppers are typically pale yellow to pale green in color when they are fresh. They can be eaten raw or cooked into many recipes. But when they ripen to bright red, they are dried and ground into the fine red powder known as paprika or what I like to call Hungarian gold.

Hungarian paprika (pronounced puh-pri-ka) is available in sweet, hot, and everything in between, with eight varieties altogether. Sweet paprika has a deeper red color whereas hot paprika is more rusty in color. The signature dish most famous for using paprika is chicken paprikash, a stew of chicken with an onion sauce richly colored and flavored with paprika. I grew up on paprikás csirke, as it is known in Hungarian. It is my comfort food, and that's exactly what it is for so many Hungarians and Hungarian-Americans. I consider it my favorite home-cooked dish. And, of course, no recipe rivals my mother's.