Retro Recipes and Traditional Fare

Summer barbecues just aren’t complete without this classic side dish. Everyone has a favorite version, and when I’m looking for an authentic home cooked version, this is my recipe of choice.

As a kid, I was pretty fussy about what was in it, and my mother was forced to prepare a pretty bland version.

Feel free to alter the ingredients to your own taste – some people might not like the addition of chopped pickles, but I think it really perks up the salad. If you don’t have sweet pickles, you can use and equal amount of sweet pickle relish.

February is zipping right by. The days are getting longer, the sun is shining, the temps have been mild. I’m enjoying a mid-winter high. In just a couple of weeks, though, March will arrive with gray days, dirty snow, more snow, ice — all things that make the month of March in Minnesota my least favorite time of the year.

I’ve decided to celebrate the sunshine of today with a batch of Cherry Almond Puff. I began the process with an old recipe for Almond Puff that I got years ago from a friend of mine who lives in Bird Island, Minnesota. I haven’t made it in years, but was reminded of it when I was having coffee with someone the other day who told me about this great dessert she had made for a neighborhood get-together. I recognized it as Almond Puff.

Since February is National Cherry Month, I made a filling with dried cherries and almond paste. Yes, I’m still finding ways to use almond paste.

The cake came in a box and alongside the box was a big bag of honeycomb bits (imagine Crunchie without the chocolate.)  This honeycomb has to be affixed to the cake at the last minute:

"The cake features two layers of sponge cake in a delicate coffee whipped cream frosting, covered in delicious bits of crunch"

"You're going to want to blog about this cake" said Wendy.
"Just you wait till you try it" said Andrea.
"No, it's not really my thing, you know, cake" I said.
But then I put one small piece in my mouth.

It's called a Blum's Coffee Crunch Cake and is now being made by Valerie's Confections in Los Angeles. But the cake has fans everywhere. Martha Stewart has a recipe here.  On the I Speak of Dreams blog, Sandy Weil tells the story of her father being the first baker of the cake at the original Blum's in San Francisico (first comment) and her father, Ernest Weil's cookbook is here.  If you look it up, hundreds of people tell swooning stories about the cake. It is, quite honestly, the cake of legends.

When my friend Sara from Culinerapy visited Concord, Mass. last year, she made a reader’s pilgrimage to Orchard House, the historic home of Louisa May Alcott. Since Sara and I (and half the women we know) share an abiding love for Alcott’s 1868 novel Little Women, she sent me a thoughtful souvenir: the author’s recipe for Apple Slump. It’s a homey, deliberately simple dessert, comfort cousin to fruit buckles, bettys, cobblers, grunts and pandowdys. Still, reading the calligraphy-script recipe, I could see where I might tweak it. And I thought, who am I to edit Louisa May Alcott?

Not editing, really. Finessing. Alcott may have mastered prose at the desk, but in the kitchen she was likely closer to Jo March, for whom the “bread burned black” and the “cream turned sour.” Making Apple Slump would be like cooking with Ms. Alcott’s domestically-challenged ghost, and while I cored and sliced I considered my years reading and rereading the March girls, picturing Amy’s limes, Meg’s vain high heels and lonely Jo in the attic with apples, writing and cursing scarlet fever, the villain that stole Beth. I regretted that my little tweaks – dash of vanilla, an extra apple – could not make Laurie come to his senses and dump Amy. Pecans would add crunch but they would never make Jo marry Laurie, nor bring Beth back. They’re a matter of personal taste, like my feelings about Meg wedding that dull John Brooke, and while they won’t change the story they can at least enhance Ms. Alcott’s kitchen legacy, and certainly perk up the Slump.