Even though we weren’t having a big gradation party, I still had to take a day off from work to do all the cooking. Now remember, I’m the girl who doesn’t blink an eye about making Thanksgiving dinner in under four hours (even with all the side dishes) so I was surprised that making everything for graduation took me nearly twice that long.
First problem of the day was that we were in the middle of a heat wave. I should mention that in all the years we’ve lived on Long Island, we’ve made do with old school box fans, coupled with a window fan or two.
This I realized was not going to work when the temperature both in and outside the house was over 90 degrees! (Yes, I actually went outside to my car to take a picture of the temp!)
So, Lynn decided to haul out our really big air conditioner and set it up in the living room, hoping a bit of the cold air would waft into the kitchen (it didn’t), when I realized that when I started to make the chocolate-covered strawberries, I forgot I left the chocolate in my pantry! Imagine how not funny it was to discover that the chocolate had completely melted inside the wrapper and going to the store for more wasn’t an option. So, I simply squeezed what chocolate I could out of the wrapper (don’t all good chefs do that?) and voila, the double boiler cooking time to “melt” the chocolate was cut by 99%.
I quickly got the chocolate to stick to the strawberries and popped them in the refrigerator but was melting myself since for reasons known only to the baking gods I had also decided to bake:
1) Regular bread
2) Zucchini bread
3) Pound cake
4) Brownies
5) A cherry cake
6) Carrot cupcakes with cream cheese frosting.
While all of this was either baking, mixing or waiting for one of these two steps to happen, I also was trying to set the table and put together a three-tiered cardboard dessert tower.
Now, everyone who knows me, knows that I absolutely detest baking. I mean, yes, I can do it but all the mixing (butter, eggs, flour, etc., etc.,) is just not fun! Yet, I still do it. And while the brownies were from a box, everything else was made from scratch. The cherries I needed for the cherry cake needed to be pitted by hand, the zucchini bread needed to be closely monitored since at the last moment I decided to make them miniature size and wasn’t too sure about the cooking temperature, and my favorite Bundt pan (the one I normally bake the pound cake in) had mysteriously disappeared one day on the Long Island Railroad (don’t ask.)
I mean really, anyone else who was sane would have simply ordered a cake from a bakery and that would have been the end of it. Don’t my “slightly” chocolate covered strawberries look nice, though?
I did manage to get through all the baking and the heat and even made dinner, too, on top of all the desserts.
]]>This past Thanksgiving as I was baking in my house on Long Island (a task I don’t particularly like by the way), I started to think of what it would be like to be at the Red House to celebrate a holiday. Actually, what I’m really thinking about is the view I have from the Red House kitchen that looks out onto the meadow and up to the forest. As I was kneading dough and mixing batter on Long Island, I glanced out of a kitchen window that reveals nothing more than a white fence and lots of ugly houses. Although I see them, I don’t. I see my meadow.
Even though I wasn’t cooking Thanksgiving this year, I still wanted to bring something to the table. That’s why the Wednesday before the holiday, I found myself making bread (The New York Times recipe they published November 21, 2007 entitled Simple Crusty Bread), a dried cranberry and apricot tea bread I found online, and an old Hungarian family recipe, kolach.
A few years ago I finally typed up my grandmother’s handwritten kolach recipe because it was beginning to fade and I was afraid it would eventually just disappear. Making kolach in our house is usually a once-a-year affair, simply because of the effort involved.
When I pulled out my grandmother’s recipe this year, I noticed for the first time that it was dated November 22, 1960. I wondered if she too had wanted to prepare something special for Thanksgiving. Here’s her recipe and my sorry attempt to photograph the finished product. If anyone wonders why there was only half a loaf left in the photograph, it’s because three loafs were gifted and I ate nearly half a loaf myself the day after Thanksgiving! Yes, it’s really that good.
November 22, 1960
Kolach
1 package dry yeast
1/4 cup luke warm water
1 cup milk
1 cup butter melted (2 sticks)
3 egg yolks slightly beaten
1 teaspoon salt
1/3 cup sugar
4 cups sifted flour
Nut Filling
4 cups ground nutmeat (walnuts)
1/3 cup sugar for each one cup of nuts
3 egg whites beaten stiff
1/3 cup milk (more if needed)
1 cup raisins (generous)
Dissolve yeast in water. Mix melted butter, egg yolks, salt and sugar in large bowl. Add milk. Add flour and beat thoroughly until dough comes clean from hands. Let rise for a minimum 4-5 hours. Cut into four pieces and roll each piece on a floured board into a rectangle. Spread filling over dough. Roll like a jelly roll. Brush with 1 egg slightly beaten. Bake in moderate oven 350 degrees for 40 minutes.
Makes 4 nut rolls (medium-sized)
Some notes about the recipe:
Originally the recipe called for scalded milk. I realized that this was probably because the milk she was using wasn’t pasteurized. My grandmother would also occasionally put the dough in the fridge which defeats the process of having the dough rise. (Somehow, still the kolach would turn out fine.)
There are also three other filling variations that can be used but the nut/raisin combination is my favorite. She mentions using “nutmeat” in the recipe. I’ve always used walnuts and I’m not quite sure what other nut she might have used. My mother has made kolach with a prune (Lekvar) filling, apricot filling and poppy seed filling. Making the fruit fillings is as simple as buying a jar of prune or apricot preserves and spreading it on the dough. The poppy seed filling is made by Solo and comes in a can (which you can even buy online these days!) but I think it’s kind of nasty.
Finally, while she generally cooked the loaves for 40 minutes, my oven is temperamental and sometimes it’s taken closer to an hour.
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