Maedl

They look suspiciously like rutabagas!

This article gives an idea of what may have been served at the first Thanksgiving: http://www.smithsonianmag.com/history/what-was-on-the-menu-at-the-first-thanksgiving-511554/ Ducks and geese, plus other smaller birds were n the menu, as well as oysters, mussels, etc. There are plenty of choices beyond turkey that make a fine Thanksgiving menu.

The biggest catalysts in my learning to cook were my mother and grandmother. I was constantly in the kitchen, watching and learning from them. My first cookbook exposure was to my mother's cooking bible, a fat book full of recipes and home-making advice. I don't remember the name--I called it The Happy Homemaker, but I think it was blue and I know it lived in the kitchen drawer where it was easy to access. In the 1960s, Mom gave me a subscription to the Time-Life international series. We cooked our way through those books as they arrived. I still give those books pride of place on my bookshelves. The next books added to the collection (also presents from Mom) were The Art of Indian Cooking by Monica Dutt and a large book full of photos and recipes on Israeli cooking. By this time my Dad was asking if we ever thought of making some sort of American dish. After college, I subscribed to Gourmet and saved every copy. In the intervening years, the cookbook collection has built up to alarming numbers--but what lovely memories the books hold and what happy experiences they will continue to make possible!

According to tradition, turkey was served at the first Thanksgiving when the Pilgrims and Indians shared a meal at Plymouth, in what was to become Massachusetts.

There was nothing wrong with the way my mother cooked turkey. One year I came down with the 24 hour flu right after eating turkey and that put me off. Now, the thought of Butterball turkey with all that artificial 'butter' simply sounds unappetizing. I am also very particular about the kind of poultry I eat. I am totally unimpressed by turkeys (or chickens) that are produced for mass consumption. I want to be sure any bird I eat is raised properly. Perhaps if I tried a heritage turkey, I might like it better, but that is not an option where I live.

I like roast pork or ham for Thanksgiving--and Christmas, too! One year I made a butternut squash-kale recipe by Deborah Madison. I would love to try porchetta this year, but I am afraid my guests will freak out over the fat.

I went through a stage when I was sure my mother was disguising liver as steak, so for a year or so I turned up my nose to both liver AND steak. And fish was never a welcome sight on the dinner table for me. Since we lived in St. Louis and weren't Catholic--thus subject to fast days--fish did not present a great obstacle. My mother was busy--she taught school and was active in the community, plus took care of our home. She did not have time for special order cooking. My father didn't cook--what man did cook in the '50s or '60s?--so all the meals were Mom's responsibilities. That said, we always had a good meal on the table. The ingredients did not come out of a can or box. Mom believed in local food before it was popular and we often grew our vegetables or picked them from farmers' fields. Hot Missouri summers meant the season for preserving foods for winter. Great pots of tomatoes, beans, peaches, and jams bubbled on the stovetop, making a hot kitchen even more unbearable. At mealtime, if either my Dad or I didn't like something, Mom would always say, "That's OK, honey. You can make yourself an omlette or have peanut butter and jelly." That was a great way to handle me because I hated PB&J--and still do to this day--and omlettes weren't my favorite back then either. The only time I was given a different main course would be at my grandparents'. If my grandmother made brains, kidneys, tongue, etc., she would give me something else. I am not sure this was a good approach because I loved anything associated with Grandma. I think that had I been served the awful offal with no choice--thus giving me the idea that there was something wrong with the food--I would have associated it with happy times and learned to eat it. Looking back, I am glad that Mom did not cater to a "child's taste." I learned to eat different foods and I was exposed to foods from many different culinary traditions. Most of all, I learned to appreciate the effort that went into making a meal and to respect the work that Mom put into creating good meals for our family.

Go for it, then, and report back!

GlorifiedRice, I am sure each person reacts differently to smells, so what is neutral to one person is a stench to another. And I suspect if you are exposed to smells when you are young and have pleasant associations to connect with them, the smell might even become pleasant. Apparently the smell that lutefisk produces is related to the type of fish used. I think cod, haddock, pollock and whiting can be used and some smell worse than others. The Wisconsin lutefisk, as I recall, was made and consumed in church halls. I bet it’s made in churches to avoid filling your home with eau de lutefisk. I found a few quotes from one of my favorite writers that you might appreciate; "Every Advent we entered the purgatory of lutefisk, a repulsive gelatinous fishlike dish that tasted of soap and gave off an odor that would gag a goat. We did this in honor of Norwegian ancestors, much as if survivors of a famine might celebrate their deliverance by feasting on elm bark. I always felt the cold creeps as Advent approached, knowing that this dread delicacy would be put before me and I'd be told, "Just have a little." Eating a little was like vomiting a little, just as bad as a lot." --Garrison Keillor "Lutefisk is cod that has been dried in a lye solution. It looks like the desiccated cadavers of squirrels run over by trucks, but after it is soaked and reconstituted and the lye is washed out and it's cooked, it looks more fish-related, though with lutefisk, the window of success is small. It can be tasty, but the statistics aren't on your side. It is the hereditary delicacy of Swedes and Norwegians who serve it around the holidays, in memory of their ancestors, who ate it because they were poor. Most lutefisk is not edible by normal people. It is reminiscent of the afterbirth of a dog or the world's largest chunk of phlegm." --Garrison Keillor

On a trip to Italy in October, porcini-farro soup was on many menus. When I came home, fresh porcini were abundant in the weekly markets, so I attempted to recreate what I had eaten in Florence. The effort was a complete success. Porcini-farro soup In a heavy pot, brown onions and garlic in olive oil. Add one or two chopped carrots, hot red pepper flakes, and two bay leaves and fry a bit more. Add about 150 grams of chopped, fresh porcini mushrooms--less than one-fourth pound--and fry until they begin to give off some of their juices. Add a handful of chopped parsely and mint. Add about two cups of tomatoes--raw or canned will do. Stir and bring to a simmer. Add a liter--or generous four cups--of chicken or beef broth and bring to a simmer. Let cook about ten minutes and then add one cup uncooked farro. Cook for another 20 minutes or so until the farro is done. A shorter cooking time will allow the farro to retain a bit of a bite, if you like it that way. You could use a half cup of farro and half-cup of dried beans which you soaked and cooked (or canned beans). I'd choose cannellini, borlotti or chick peas. If you can't get fresh porcini, you can use dried--you will have to soak them until soft before you add them to the soup.jt

Weisslacker is a cheese produced in the Allgäu, Bavaria's prime dairy region. It dates to the 1870s when two brothers played around with brick cheese, trying to create a cheese that would age well. It tastes very mild--and I like it--but it is not the kind of cheese you want to put in your rucksack before you board a train on a warm day. Or maybe it is, because then you'd have a compartment to yourself. The stinky foods that truly repel me are mostly fish. Almost every Bavarian beer garden has a stand that roasts mackerel. I keep a safe distance from it and never sit downwind, no matter how inviting the beer and the shade of the chestnut trees. Surströmmimg is absolutely disgusting. I came across it one year at a food history symposium in Oxford. I couldn't get the stuff close to my mouth because the odor thoroughly repelled me. However on a visit to the music museum in Stockholm, I was tickled to see musical instruments--on the order of a banjo--made from the surströmmimg tins. I'm surprised no one has mentioned lutefisk as a candidate for the stinky foods category. It involves an aged white fish and lye. When I worked for a Congressman from Wisconsin, eating lutefisk was a sort of rite of passage that gave you the Wisconsin creds. I never could tolerate the lutefisk, but excelled at the consumption of lefse. Guess I was halfway there.

See http://nourishedkitchen.com/election-cake-a-touch-of-american-culinary-history/ for a story about an Election Day cake.

What sweet memories this brings to mind! My birthday cake was a chocolate-orange cake iced with a dark chocolate icing redolent of orange zest. Mom would decorate the cake with the last flowers from the garden before adding the candles. We always made an angel food cake for my grandmother, a pound cake for my grandfather, and a fruit pie for my father. On Mom's birthday, we bought a whipped cream cake from Koula's Bakery in Glendale, Missouri. I don't know why I didn't bake a cake for the occasion--perhaps it was a holiday for Mom when she didn't have to supervise me!

I have a small oven, too, and that is why I asked about fitting all the tins in. I have not had luck with baking the layers one at a time. the subsequent layers didn't rise as well. Be sure to report on your efforts!

Whoa, I just saw the recipe you posted, and it is huge--could you even get three 12 inch cake pans in your oven? I had two ideas after reading your recipe. First, the addition of crushed pineapple reminded me of the hummingbird cake. I think it is considered Southern and was popular in the 1970s. You can find a normal-sized recipe easily on the web. The second thought is that Food52 is doing a weekly post on baking cakes. The recipe for this week is a pumpkin cake--one layer. That would be a good starter cake, plus pumpkin cakes are really, really good. You can see it at https://food52.com/blog/11384-pumpkin-cake-and-proud-of-it As for buying cake pans, go to TJ Maxx or the like. They almost always have brand-name pans quite a bit cheaper than the good kitchen stores.

I agree that you should try making a straight-forward recipe for a cake before you try the ones you have. If the carrot cake recipe was “scribbled down” by a couple of chefs, it might not contain good instructions that you would need. I would definitely not make a huge cake as your first attempt--it would be a shame to have to toss out a big cake if it doesn’t turn out. Maybe you should start out with some muffins--they are not exactly cakes, but you’d get some experience baking before you try a cake. And whatever you do, follow the ingredient list and instructions meticulously. Don’t try substitutions or playing around with proportions until you have some experience! And if you don’t understand the instructions, ask someone for clarification. If you do this, you should be successful. Good luck!

I, too, think it looks more like a tart than a Kuchen, which is usually made with a yeast or baking powder dough as a base. It would be impossible to crimp that kind of dough. In many parts of Germany, Pflaumen are called Zwetschgen, which might help with recipe searches.

Here is a picture of the persimmon on the tree: http://www.motherearthnews.com/homesteading-and-livestock/persimmons-zmaz70sozgoe.aspx#axzz3EQgHVp22 Sorry I don’t have my own picture, but that’s the way the persimmons look in the fall--the leaves are off the tree by the time they are edible. And you know that persimmons need a hard frost before they are edible. What are they like? Well, the wild ones are much smaller than the cultivated varieties--they are the size of an apricot, maybe a bit larger. By the time they are ready to eat, the skin looks puckered. They have quite a few seeds, but a honey-sweet, soft flesh surrounds them. We most often ate them raw--and outside. That way you could pop the whole thing in your mouth and then see how far you could spit the seeds. There are numerous recipes for persimmon pudding--we made it perhaps once a year. I liked them better straight from the tree. I seem to remember that the wood is quite hard (the American persimmon, Diospyros virginiana is related to ebony) and the wood is used for furniture and musical instruments.

I wonder how they would be in ice cream--a hickory nut or black walnut-persimmon ice cream.

I know this is an old thread, but I thought I'd add a site that I discovered earlier this year and have enjoyed: http://www.eattheweeds.com. It is written by Green Deane and is oriented toward Florida, which is fine with me because I am not from there and am learning a lot about the vegetation of a new area. I grew up picking wild blackberries (always on the hottest August day when the mosquitos were at their most bloodthirsty). One or twice every June, my grandmother, dog, and I would walk down to our neighbor's pond and pick saucer-sized elder flower blossoms. Tippy, my dog, gave us a good laugh one year when he tried to herd some cattle grazing near the pond. The cattle did not take to this upstart herder and backed him into the pond. Only his dignity was injured. My grandmother would turn the snowy blooms into ethereal Hollerküchle, elder flower pancakes. Later in the season, we would return to the pond to gather elder berries to make elderberry jelly and juice. In the autumn, when the weather had turned cold and crisp, my Mom and I would hike through the woods on my grandparents' farm and gather persimmons. I loved their soft texture and honey sweetness and have never been satisfied by cultivated persimmons. I live part of the year in southern Germany now. I always make sure to be back here in time for the elder flower blossoms, which I gather from bushes near a tiny monastery on the side of a mountain above town. I still make Hollerküchle, but have added a new recipe for elderflower syrup to my collection. I also gather burning nettles for a tasty risotto or frittata and greens which make a delectable spring salad. I usually miss the Bärlauch (wild garlic) season here, but compensate with the mid-Atlamtic relative, ramps.

There is a lot more to spaghetti and pasta than ready made tomato sauces. You can fry onions, pepperoncini, and garlic in olive oil and/or bacon (or some anchovies), add rapini, Tuscan kale or cicchoria, and cook until tender. Cook the pasta at the same time. When the pasta is almost, but not quite done, save a tablespoon or two of the cooking water before you drain the pasta in a strainer. Toss the pasta in the pan with the greens, add the water a little at a time, and continue cooking until the pasta is done. Put it in a bowl, top with Parmasan or other hard, grated cheese, and eat. Here’s another recipe I love. The original recipe (long lost because you don't really need a recipe) came from Basilicata, Italy's instep, between Puglia and Calabria. If you haven’t used horseradish before, be careful not to add to much because it can be very strong. It’s easier to add more if needed than to compensate for too much! Onion Garlic Bacon Olive oil Salt and pepper Horseradish Mint Freshly cooked pasta Chop an onion, some garlic and a few slices of bacon. Fry the bacon in a heavy frying pan, remove the bacon bits but leave the fat in the pan. If necessary, and it most likely will be, add olive oil and then the onion. Fry until it becomes translucent, then add the garlic and fry a few seconds until fragrant. Season with a bit of salt and pepper. Peel a hunk of horseradish and grate. Remove leaves from mint until you have a good handful or two. Chop coarsely. Add the horseradish and mint to the onion mixture, cook until hot. Toss with freshly-cooked pasta and top with grated pecorino.

Each country in which Slowfood is active has its own ark. Slowfood members can nominate candidates for the list and describe how the food meets the criteria. Rare cattle, sheep, goat, lamb and chicken breeds, heirloom fruit and vegetables, and even wild foods are on the list. Look at http://www.slowfoodusa.org/ark-of-taste to see the US list. This is a fantastic way to educate people about biodiversity and why it is so important.

Here's an interesting article about Native American land use and burning: http://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Native_American_use_of_fire It has a short bibliography, so you may be able to find some good sources of information. As to slash and burn, I don't think the NW Coastal Indians burnt forest floors for slash and burn agriculture. Compared to other Indians, the NW coastal tribes lived in a land of plenty and did not need to grow food--foraging supplied them with a rich diet.