Julie and Julia—A Must-See for Fans, Foodies, & Me

There are a number of good reasons to go see “Julie & Julia:” Fans who fondly recollect Julia Child from her TV French Chef heyday will enjoy rekindling memories and getting to know more about this likeable dynamo. Meryl Streep’s deft performance reveals Julia as not only lively, but a lot more complex than the affable auntie type they might have imagined.

Foodies of all ages will also leave the theater thoroughly sated. Scenes featuring the characters cooking and lustily enjoying French food and wine are so numerous that many in the audience will want to rush home and whip up a boeuf bourguignon (or at least pop open a fine bottle of Burgundy). Butter is brandished about and savored with such abandon that Land O' Lakes executives may already be handspringing around offices at the surge in sales.

I went to the film mostly because I’d known Julia professionally and wanted to see if she was accurately portrayed. Streep plays her as bright, ebullient, down-to-earth, intellectually curious, dedicated to her calling, and fiercely competitive but not unkind. Which is quite consistent with what I recall.

I didn’t have the good fortune to know Julia well, and we only became acquainted after she was already America’s greatest culinary luminary. We met and briefly chatted at a number of professional culinary conferences, and she never seemed evenly slightly self-absorbed. She was, in fact, the consummate colleague: gracious, approachable, more interested in learning from her compatriots than in touting her latest tome, and always, always encouraging of other cookbook authors. Instead of grandstanding or making cameo appearances, she often mingled and attended the various workshops, including a primer on cooking on TV and one on cookbook writing, both topics she, of course, should have been teaching herself. (I happened to be instructor in the cookbook writing class—she was completely unassuming but, gulp, her presence was still unnerving!)

The Grande Dame of cookbooks apparently never forgot her own early struggles to be published, and identified with others still enduring the usual indignities of the cookbook business. She was a particularly great supporter of new authors, allowing the International Association of Culinary Professionals’ annual “Best First Cookbook” award to be named the “Julia Child Award” in her honor. (The interesting peeks behind the publishing industry curtain are another reason cookbook junkies will enjoy this flick: In one particularly ironic manuscript rejection scene—which I’m sure my current-day friends at Houghton Mifflin wish had been cut—the publisher flatly informs Julia and Simone Beck that their work would not interest American housewives.)

I actually got to know Julia Child best through a quirk of alphabetical fate. Since C follows B, Baggett and Child often sat next to one another at conference book signings. Before the doors opened and the crowd ascended upon her, she usually took time to look through and compliment my latest work, once exclaiming over my cookie cookbook in that unforgettable, lilting voice, “Why, what a lovely book! You should be so pleased.” Even more revealing was her response to the excited fans queuing up for an autographed copy. She understood that what they wanted most was a moment of her undivided attention, and they got it even when the lines were long and she didn’t feel well. Yes, she was a true Grande Dame, and the movie does her proud.

Continue Reading...

More Summer Gifts—Fresh Herb Vinegars

For the urban or suburban gardener with limited space and covenants allowing only ornamental plantings, herbs are the perfect culinary choice. Many herbs are easy to grow and look attractive tucked in and about other landscaping. And only a few plants can often satisfy a cook's culinary needs. Every year I grow herbs to cook with and to ready bottles of herb vinegar that I use in simple, fresh-tasting salad dressings and sauces all year round. For my recent Washington Post article on using fresh herbs in savory and sweet (yes, sweet!) dishes go to http://tinyurl.com/ngjz6p

The photo shows a ruffled purple basil plant, along with two bottles of purple basil vinegar. Notice that the one in the foreground is already turning purple--that's because it was prepared about 30 minutes before the one behind it. Within 24 hours, the color from the leaves will give the nearly colorless white wine vinegar a beautiful rose wine hue. Although it might be tempting to display the vinegars on a window ledge, sunlight causes the colors to fade, so it's best to keep them in a cupboard.

The basic recipe gives instruction on making two different vinegars, but other nice herb blends, especially tarragon and chives, can be created using the same approach. Most of the time I use white wine vinegar or unseasoned rice wine vinegar as a base because these are fairly mild and also show off the natural beauty and flavor of the herbs.

Basil or Nasturtium-Chive Vinegar

The picture shows the Purple Basil and Nasturtium-Chive vinegars I prepared shortly before the photo was taken. Yes, nasturtium is sometimes considered an herb. It's related to watercress, and, in fact, tastes like it, too.

Though the two vinegars don't taste alike, a little splash of either blend enhances a simple butter sauce for seafood, perks up sauteed cabbage or slaw, adds life to store-bought mayo, or makes a pleasing vinaigrette. The basil lends a typical basil flavor, the nasturtium (leaves and blooms) and chives lend an oniony watercress taste. Almost any variety of basil can be used, but for a particularly pretty vinegar, use a purple-leafed type. Since nasturtium blooms range from pink to yellow, to bright, eye-catching orange and red, your vinegar color will depend on the color of the blossoms chosen.

3-4 large fresh purple basil sprigs or 6-8 nasturtium leaves and 2-3 blooms
1 small handful of fresh chives (include blooms, if desired)
About 12- to 16-ounces white wine vinegar or unseasoned rice wine vinegar

Cut (or purchase) some fresh sprigs of herbs of your choice. Discard any brown, yellowed, or bruised leaves. Rinse the sprigs under cool water. Gently pat dry with paper towels. Push the sprigs down into a nearly full bottle of vinegar (a fondue fork is great for this but a long skewer can be used). Keep working until all the leaves are completely submerged in the vinegar. If the vinegar overflows the top, just pour off the excess. Let the mixture steep at least a few days so the flavor can develop.

Makes 1 12- to 16-ounce bottle of vinegar

Tip: While it's easiest to just add your herbs to the bottles the vinegar came in, for a more decorative look, try interesting recycled bottles topped with corks or non-reactive caps. The herbs stay in the bottle, so the flavor intensifies further over time. Herb vinegars can be kept, unrefrigerated, for up to a year. After that the flavors and colors fade, so plan to use them up and make more!

Continue Reading...

High Summer Pleasure—Blackberry Sorbet

Seems like I was waiting forever for the wild blackberries in my neighborhood to ripen. And, finally, they did. Last week one morning instead of working, I grabbed a bucket, a hat, and long sleeve shirt and went out to seek my treasure. Just look what I found!


To celebrate my good fortune, I created this Blackberry-Plum sorbet. It’s about as close as I will ever come to catching the essence of summer in a bowl. Sweet-tart, vibrant, intensely fruity, and utterly refreshing, it was just perfect for savoring in the shade of my deck. Enjoy!


High Summer Blackberry-Plum Sorbet

There are two good reasons to add plums to a blackberry sorbet: They are a clever way to stretch the berries when you don’t have enough. Even more important, underripe, unpeeled plums have a lot of pectin, which helps keep the sorbet pleasantly smooth and readily “scoopable” even when stored a week or more.

Tip: If your berries are extremely tart, you may want to increase the sugar by a tablespoon or two. For best texture, don’t reduce the sugar to under 3/4 cup.

3 cups blackberries
2 medium underripe, tart red or black plums (unskinned), pitted and chopped
1 cup water
1/2 teaspoon fresh lemon zest (yellow part of the peel)
3/4 cup plus 2 tablespoons granulated sugar

Thoroughly stir together the blackberries, plums, 1 cup water, sugar, and lemon zest in a large, non-reactive saucepan. Bring to a boil, stirring, then adjust the heat so the mixture boils gently until the berries and plums are soft, 5 to 7 minutes. Remove from the heat; let cool.

Cover and refrigerate for at least 2 and up to 24 hours. Strain the mixture through a fine sieve, pressing down hard to extract as much pulp as possible. Process the strained mixture in an ice cream maker according to the manufacturer’s instructions. Place in a storage container and freeze, airtight, until firmed up at least 2 hours, and up to a week.

Makes 1 generous quart.

Continue Reading...

Blackberry Sauce--Simple, Summery, Sensational

If sorbet just doesn't sing to you, and you don't have time for blackberry cobbler, consider preparing this easy sauce. It makes a great ice cream sundae topping--try it over lemon sorbet as well as the more traditional vanilla ice cream. Note that this sauce is cooked, so it is not a coulis--which although it sounds fancier ( and will likely cost more in a restaurtant) is not, in fact, as good.

Yes, the uncooked fruit coulis are in vogue these days, but I've found that brief cooking produces a blackberry sauce with fuller flavor, more body, and more vibrant color. A cooked sauce is also more convenient, since it can be held in the refrigerator a few days.

Blackberry Sauce

Tip: If you are a little short of 3 cups of berries, fill in with a pitted and chopped red or black plum or two. No need to peel the plums!

6 tablespoons granulated sugar

1 teaspoon cornstarch

3 cups fresh or unsweetened frozen (thawed) blackberries
3 tablespoons blackberry or peach brandy or orange juice

Generous pinch of finely grated lemon or lime zest (colored part of skin)

In a heavy, medium non-reactive saucepan stir together the sugar and cornstarch until well blended. Stir in the berries, brandy (or juice) and lemon zest. Bring to a gentle boil over medium-high heat, stirring. Continuing to stir, cook until the mixture thickens and clears, about 3 minutes. Remove from the heat; let cool. Press the mixture through a fine sieve, forcing through as much juice and pulp as possible and discarding seeds. Refrigerate in a nonreactive airtight storage container at least 1 hour, and up to 5 days. Stir briefly before using.

Makes a generous 1 cup (enough for 4 to 6 sundaes).

Continue Reading...

Seafood the Old Bay Way

Anybody who lives around the Chesapeake knows that part of the appeal of steamed crabs and shrimp is their distinctive spicy scent and flavor. It comes mostly from a highly aromatic herb-spice mixture that’s been popular here for decades. The best known brand is called Old Bay, and it is pungent with celery salt, dry mustard, bay leaves, paprika, and enough pepper to draw your attention but not make you cry. A clever tag line for the product is “Bold Never Gets Old;” locals like myself would definitely agree. (A lot of seafood houses actually use similar blends from other companies, but Old Bay was the original brand.)

I’ve already made quite a few trips to my favorite seafood market to stock up and feast on shrimp and crabs this summer. I usually buy my crabs already cooked, but prefer to steam the shrimp myself. Frankly, both steamed crabs and shrimp just seem lacking to me unless they are prepared the Old Bay way.

Should you wish to try some Chesapeake-style shrimp yourself, here is a recipe which I’ve adapted slightly from one on the Old Bay tin. Though originally available only locally, it's now sold by McCormick's nationwide.

Maryland-Style Steamed Shrimp

2 to 3 tablespoons Old Bay Seasoning
1 1/2 to 2 pounds fresh, headless shrimp (in their shells)
1/3 cup apple cider vinegar
Cocktail sauce and fresh lemon wedges

Set out a deep pot fitted with a raised rack or steamer basket. Add vinegar and enough water to reach just below level of the rack. Layer the shrimp, sprinkling each layer with Old Bay Seasoning as you work. Cover tightly and steam 3 to 5 minutes; stir once or twice to redistribute and continue just until they all turn red. Avoid overcooking or they may tough. Let stand until cool enough to handle, then serve along with lots of paper towels. After peeling the shrimp diners can dip them in cocktail sauce and/or squeeze over a little lemon juice.

Continue Reading...