Digging in America

As far as I am concerned, gophers are narcissistic little jerks. It’s all about them, they do not possess a spark of empathy! I was spared until I came to the States since gophers only live in North and Central America. But they found me eventually. 

I had a garden when I lived in San Diego with massive Torrey Pine trees. Other than bamboo, nothing much grew underneath, so I planted a stunningly striped heirloom kind. In time, they all were felled by gophers, one by one. 

These days, a dramatic agave plant practically collapsed into itself when the gophers discovered it. And the tiny, towel-sized bright green lawn that I allow myself in dry Southern California is peppered with gopher mounds. 

One of my favorite plants was lemon grass that really flourished. I liked brushing my hands over it to inhale its intoxicating citrusy aroma. One morning it was just gone. Not a trace, not a hole where it had been. Nothing. I wondered for a second if I had lost my mind or, if not that, then maybe our gardener had moved it somewhere else? In the end, I knew that the gophers just pulled the whole thing down under. Like I said, no empathy. 

Nowadays, I have a scraggly little lemon grass plant that grows in the dense ground right next to the walkway. Even the strongest gopher isn’t burrowing there. But the plant gives me enough tender shoots to make some outrageously tasty lemon bars. 

The bars have a buttery coconut shortbread crust and a lovely filling with lots of freshly squeezed lemon juice and bright yellow eggs. It’s spiked with lemon grass and not overly sweet, but definitely pretty addictive.

Move over Betty Crocker, (who, even as a made up character, invented the lemon bar)! And you too, gophers!

I found this fabulous recipe in Bon Appetit. I didn’t change a thing, but sometimes I use Meyer lemons instead of regular lemons. I also adjusted the baking time to 30-35 minutes.  

Betty Crocker is a phony

The very first cookbook that found its way into my tiny kitchen after I moved from Germany to America was Betty Crocker's "Dinner for Two”, a slim paperback with a bright red cover. Before her, I made dinner with “Hamburger Helper” which I enjoyed well enough, and tuna casserole with cream of mushroom soup, which I also liked. But I was ready to tackle more complex dishes, and Betty Crocker had one that caught my eye immediately: coq au vin.

Betty Crocker was my Julia Child! I only bought economical chicken drumsticks and cheap boxed red wine and yet, this was just the kind of dish that couldn’t be messed up. The aroma of sizzling bacon wafted through our tiny one bedroom apartment. I   browned the chicken in the bacon fat, which smelled heavenly and became even more intense when I poured in the red wine. I threw in some roughly chopped onions, a handful of plain button mushrooms and some generous pinches of dried, aromatic herbs. When it was all done, I thought this was just the most delicious thing I’ve ever eaten.

A while ago, when traveling to Provence with our good friends, I suddenly remembered my Betty Crocker days. I ran to the local butcher shop to get some of the ingredients. My French is non-existent except for an exuberant “Bonjour”, so I mostly just pointed. But when I mentioned coq au vin, the earnest young butcher knew exactly what I needed. I don’t remember exactly how it turned out, but we had an excellent evening, drinking lots of cheap and cheerful Rosè and eating something authentic French cooked by a German vaguely remembering an American recipe.

Imagine my surprise when I recently found out that Betty Crocker is a fictional character. It is a little disappointing given my early attachment to her and her recipes. She even invented lemon bars! In the end, I prefer to fondly think of her as a real person. A middle-aged, sweet-tempered brunette that wears a spotless white apron over a red dress who can do no wrong in the kitchen. 

My white wine version of

Coq au Vin

Enough for 3-4

2 strips of bacon

1 1/2 pounds of boneless skinless chicken thighs

2 small anchovies

1 small onion, finely chopped

1 garlic clove, thinly sliced

1/2 tb tomato paste

1 cup of dry white wine

1/2 cup of veggie broth

A few sprigs of fresh thyme or a few pinches of dried

1/2 pound of brown or white mushrooms, sliced 

1 tb Butter

Freshly chopped parsley

1 tb cornstarch 

Heat oven to 350 degrees. Cook bacon in a braising pan until very brown. Crumble into small pieces and set aside. Season chicken generously with salt and pepper and brown in bacon fat on both sides, a few pieces at a time. Remove from pan. Leave about 1 tb of the bacon fat in the pan and cook the anchovies until they have mostly dissolved.

Add onions and cook for 8 min until soft. Add garlic and cook another minute. Stir in tomato paste until well combined and fragrant. Add chicken back into pan and pour in white wine and broth. Tuck in thyme and crumbled bacon and bring to a simmer. Cover and put into the oven for about 50 min or until chicken is tender. After about 30 min turn chicken. 

Meanwhile, cook sliced mushrooms in butter until tender and all liquid has been evaporated. Season with salt and set aside. 

When chicken is done, take it out of the pan and thicken the juices with a little cornstarch slurry. Put chicken back into the sauce, add the mushrooms and sprinkle with parsley. Enjoy with a crusty baguette.