Old Fashioned Beef Spaghetti Sauce

 

I have wonderful childhood memories of spaghetti. Of all the dishes my mother fixed, this was one of my favorites. She would always leave the sauce to simmer the day away while Dad read the Sunday paper and watched football on TV. It didn’t take long before I began to associate the smell of spaghetti with family and lazy days at home. Even now when I make spaghetti for my own family, I have an odd craving for the sound of football playing in the background.

Like my Dad, Corey is a no nonsense eater. No onions. Hold the garlic. Nothing fancy. (Of course, unless we are talking desserts. Now that is a different story.) This is one of the many reasons I thoroughly enjoy cooking for the farmers markets. I can explore any ingredient including exotic spices and far away dishes without the face of a picky eater staring me down. So be assured this spaghetti sauce recipe is one that even the pickiest of eaters will enjoy.

Old Fashioned Beef Spaghetti Sauce

1 pound ground beef

2 -28 oz cans tomato sauce

1 – 6 oz can tomato paste

½ teaspoon garlic powder

1 ½ teaspoons dried oregano

½ teaspoon dried thyme

½ teaspoon dried Italian seasoning

Salt and pepper, to taste

Brown beef in 3-4 quart pan over medium heat. Drain fat. Add garlic powder, salt, and pepper. Stir and allow to cook for an additional 30 seconds to season meat.

Add tomato sauce, tomato paste, and herbs. Reduce heat to medium low and simmer for at least two hours. If sauce begins to bubble, reduce heat slightly.

Serve over angle hair spaghetti.

Note: Pictured is one of the sauces we sell at the farmers market. I took the basic recipe for Old Fashioned Beef Spaghetti Sauce, tweaked it considerably and added onions, minced garlic and carrots to make our Lamb Bolognese Sauce.

Lamb Bolognese Sauce

Lamb Bolognese Sauce

Perfect French Toast

I can only imagine how many thousands of pancakes, waffles, and French toast Corey and I have made in the past twenty five years. With four kids, family breakfasts and quick-n-easy dinners revolved around these stables.

Corey is Breakfast King when it comes to the syrupy dishes. Me, I prefer bacon and eggs. However, when Corey is gone and the kids are craving sugar and starch, I can be persuaded into fix French Toast. Don't tell Corey, but the kids will unanimously admit that my French Toast is the best, at least that is what they assure me when begging for this favorite dish.

Perfect French Toast

2 fresh eggs
1/2 cup milk
1/4 teaspoon cinnamon (plus more)
1/4 teaspoon vanilla
8 slices bread

In a  medium size bowl (I prefer flat and wide) beat eggs. Add milk, cinnamon, and vanilla. Wisk until eggs are thoroughly incorporated.

Meanwhile, heat large skillet over medium heat. Spray with cooking spray.

Working with one slice of bread at a time, place bread into egg/milk mixture wait 5 seconds. Flip bread over and coat other side in egg/milk mixture, waiting 5 seconds. Add additional cinnamon as necessary.

Place bread into hot pan. Cook until lightly brown on both sides.

Serve with maple syrup or powdered sugar.

Note: For the absolutely best French Toast use thick sliced stale or lightly toasted bread.

Breakfast BLT

Hardy breakfasts have always been a tradition in my family. Everyday my uncles got up early to go to the barn to milk cows. Sunrise was mid-morning to these boys! Their day began while it was still dark, rolling out of bed at 4:00 am. For the record, I am definitely not a morning person. Talking to me before my first cup of coffee should be done at one's own risk. And I am not the only slug in the family.

Three of my uncles split the milking schedule so that two always milked in the morning and two always milked in the afternoon. The other uncle was in charge of field work. He got plenty of help when needed, but plowing, planting, and harvesting was his domain. Dad once told me a story of Grandad trying to get "field worker" uncle up in the morning to milk cows. After his third warning Grandad sent him to the barn in his underwear. Believable? Yes. This totally sounds like my family. Me? I preferred doing my chores once the sun was happily up to greet me (and I was fully dressed). However, my uncles and I never did agree on what time that was. ;-)

Once the morning milking was done and bottle calves fed, everyone would head to Grandma Hazel's house for breakfast. And although cereal might be a great evening snack for this crowd, breakfast always meant plenty of eggs, bacon, and sausage... oh yes, and fresh milk!

Breakfast BLT

1/2 pound bacon
4 fresh eggs
1 large tomato
1/2 cup lettuce
8 slices of bread (4 slices for open faced sandwiches)

Place bacon in large pan over medium heat. Turning every 2-3 minutes. Once bacon is done to your preference, remove from pan and place on paper towel on plate to absorb excess fat. Keep in mind that bacon will continue to cook after being removed from heat.

Meanwhile, slice tomato and wash lettuce.

Using a clean pan, add 2 tablespoons of bacon grease and heat over medium heat. Once hot, gently add eggs to pan being careful that they have enough room and do not touch. Fry only two at a time if necessary. For sunny side up, fry eggs until white is completely cooked and no longer clear. If you prefer firm yokes, carefully turn egg and continue cooking.

Once eggs are done, assemble sandwiches.

Dad (second from left) and my Uncles, 1959

Watermelon Rind Pickles

Watermelon Rind Pickles

I don’t remember my Grandmother Hazel canning, but most of what I remember was after her five sons had moved out and she was living alone. Corey’s great-grandmother however, canned everything! As she had either forgotten that all her children had left the nest or found it hopeless to convince PawPaw White not to plant their larger garden. 

This is another one of Corey’s grandmothers, Nanny Bea. She was the cafeteria manager at the local high school for over thirty years. And in her day, every bit of food that came out of the school cafeteria was homemade with the freshest ingredients from hot cross buns to green beans seasoned with pork to cinnamon scented baked apples. And she lived her preference for real food at home with a garden the size of our entire backyard. Then again, she lived in a time when all food was real food.

This is Nanny Bea’s recipe for Watermelon Rind Pickles, an absolute I-will-not-share favorite of Corey’s.

Watermelon Rind Pickles

1 large watermelon

3 tablespoons salt

6-8 sticks of cinnamon

2 tablespoons whole cloves

2 quarts white vinegar

16 cups sugar

Slice watermelon into one inch sections and remove all of the pink fruit. Using a potato peeler remove the green peel from rind so that you are left with only the white section of the rind. Cut rind into one inch squares. 

Add to a large pan and cover with water. Add salt and bring to a boil. Simmer until rind is tender.

Drain. Chill rinds in very cold water preferably overnight but for at least two hours. Drain water. Set aside.

In another large pan, add vinegar and sugar. Bring to a boil. Once boiling add cinnamon sticks, cloves tied in cheesecloth, and the drained watermelon. Simmer at a low boil until rind is clear and transparent.

Remove spice bag and cinnamon sticks. Pack the rinds into hot sterilized jars. Cover with the boiling hot syrup and seal immediately. Makes 6-8 pints.

Note: Depending on the size of the watermelon you may need more or less of the vinegar/sugar mixture.  This is fine. Just be sure to keep to a 2:1 ratio of two parts sugar to one part vinegar.

These pickles do not need to be processed in a water bath. Using hot jars and boiling hot syrup is sufficient to cause the jars to seal. After jars cool, test seals by pressing the center of each lid. If lid does not pop up and down it is sealed. If any lids do not seal properly within 24 hours, refrigerate and eat promptly.

Looking Back to 1957

I found this old newspaper clipping of my dad and uncles in a Hecht Company ad in the Washington Post dated 8-19-1957. Left to right, Michael Stiles, Kenneth Stiles, and Dad, Blair Stiles, getting their calf, Playmate, ready for the Montgomery County (MD) Fair.

Weeds

I recently heard the following sports quote…

“Slumps are like a soft bed. They’re easy to get into and hard to get out of.”  — Johnny Bench

That’s when it hit me, I was in a slump! No, not a batting slump, but a mental slump.

As a proactive optimist, I have always been one of those folks who could do anything I put my mind to. Expand the farmers market entrée menu? Love to. Return to school at 43. No problem. Deciding to coach high school soccer, cook for Virginia Lamb, be super mom, and go to school simultaneously? You bet. Adding physics on top of my math major? Why not. Somewhere along the way, I heard the warning signs. You know the nagging thought that one has crossed over into survive mode instead of thrive mode.

Then summer break hit. The crazy intensity was over. I looked around and was all but paralyzed by the amount of life that had piled up. The weeds had taken over my gardens, the sheep needed to be shorn, there was fence to be fixed and painted, and the list felt endless and overwhelming. Instead of digging deeper and finding strength, I just froze. I kept hearing over and over again in my head all the things I had to do. That is when the slump hit. I was functioning day by day. I still loved spending time in the kitchen. But somehow the spark had grown dull.

So I reached out to a fellow gardener from the northwest. Reading her daily gardening adventures, I slowly began to feel the need to play in the dirt. You see, gardening has always been a representation of life to me… the work that must be put in to reap a successful harvest… the often necessary solitude of weeding, watering, and transplanting to reflect on life. My gardens reflect my moods, my inner strength, and my clarity of vision. Lately, I had been avoiding the garden as the weeds seem to bear witness to the endless list of chores I had hanging over my head. Then it hit me. I always have an endless list of chores. And when it grows too short, I add all kinds of interesting to-dos to the list like learning to make pasta, wanting to making homemade soap as Christmas presents, or reading up on medicinal herbs.

It wasn’t my list. It wasn’t the weeds. I just needed to unwind and recharge. I needed a mental make-over. And the one thing that always brings me back into balance? Gardening.

Bear with me over the next several weeks, as there are bound to be posts that encompass weeding, tilling, and lessons learned as I recapture the beauty of my gardens.

I was so focused on the weeds, I almost missed the roses!

Baking Bread

There is something relaxing about making bread, once you get past the sticky dough stage. Maybe it is the kneading or the “oh-ah” transformation as it rises or perhaps just those wonderful memories brought on by the smell of fresh baked bread.

My grandmother Hazel (better known as Ho-Ho) was an excellent cook. I never once saw her use a recipe, everything worth cooking or baking she knew by heart. Raising five sons and a daughter on a dairy farm in the mid-twentieth century may have had something to do with that. Of all the things she made, I would say her sweet rolls and sticky buns were her claim to fame. Unfortunately she was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s before anyone thought to get her mental recipes on paper. To this day, I have yet to recreate her mouthwatering breads. And I have tried endless attempts.

I don’t know. Maybe it is just that reality can never match sweet memories. What I do know though is that she gave me a deep soulful, pleasure in baking bread. Right now my favorite go-to bread is a rustic focaccia topped with fresh herbs and salt.