Although Philip Hone became a symbol of upper class New York City, his life began in 1780 as the younger son of a poor carpenter. At the age of 16, he joined his brother’s auctioneering business. By the time he was 35, it had made him a very wealthy man, enabling him to retire at the age of 41.
For dinner tonight, I am making baked chicken fingers and savory potatoes.
With working half-time at the South Nassau Unitarian Universalist Congregation in Freeport, NY, I often arrive on a Thursday for a four- to five-day stint in residence. I come prepared with single-serve meals that husband Stephen and I have stored in wonderful glass-bottomed and plastic-top containers.
Last month, husband Stephen came to me and suggested that we try to make pastrami.
Pastrami is a beef brisket that is brined (for 10 days!), then crusted with spices, smoked to 150°, and then steamed to 203°. When he described it to me, it seemed like an enormous amount of work, and it also seemed like an enormous amount of fun.
One of the challenges of our hectic lives is preparation of family meals that are quick and relatively inexpensive. With that in mind, pasta with white clam sauce is one of my go-to recipes.
I use canned clams, because they are easy and they are a consistent product.
When I was a girl, I loved making spaghetti sauce. The recipe was simple: brown one pound of ground beef, add onion flakes, one can of tomato paste, two small cans of tomato sauce, some water (rinsing out all three cans), one teaspoon each of oregano, basil and garlic powder, some salt and pepper and a bay leaf.
No one believes me when I say that I’m lazy. Nonetheless, it’s true. I am loath to spend more time on something than need be. Additionally, if I can reutilize something, well, now you’ve got my attention.
I suggested macaroni and cheese when husband Stephen and I were planning an easy Wednesday evening dinner with his sister and niece.
When I was a kid, my favorite part of Thanksgiving dinner was dessert. Pumpkin pie, that is. I like the flavor. I like the texture.
Husband Stephen was excited when he presented me with the sales flyer from Pete’s Market in Narrowsburg, NY.
“Look,” he said. “It’s an Italian Festival.”