Author: Mary Kunz Goldman

This morning I realized how much Big Daddy had been upping my cooking skills.

I made Hollandaise Sauce before I even had my first sip of coffee!

Hollandaise Sauce is one of those things most people never attempt. They think it’s fancy and difficult. I was one of those people until I got involved with My Home Bistro. It can make you want to stretch your wings. For Howard’s birthday, I decided to make him Eggs Benedict. And Eggs Benedict requires Hollandaise Sauce.

Big Daddy talked me through it, and I did it.

It wasn’t even that difficult. This morning, before coffee, I realized I knew what to do even without consulting my Recipe Card. You separate an egg, toss the yolk into a small mixing bowl. Here I was, separating an egg before coffee. I had to laugh at that.

You add a pinch of salt and a squeeze of lemon juice to the yolk.

Then you melt 1/4 cup butter in a saucepan. I used the same saucepan I would use in a few minutes to poach the eggs.

Take the hot melted butter and whisk it slowly… slowly … into your egg yolk. Then place your mixing bowl in a bigger bowl with a couple of inches of hot water. Put a cover on it — I used a plate. That keeps it warm.

Then you cook your bacon, poach your eggs, and toast your English muffin. When everything’s assembled — toasted muffin half, bacon, and egg, bottom to top — you spoon some of your Hollandaise sauce over it.

Then I made my cup of coffee and sat down to enjoy.

Fifteen-minute Eggs Benedict, from scratch.

Easy enough to make before coffee.

Things like this make life fun. Thank you, Big Daddy!

This luscious dish of Italian sausages, mozzarella cheese, and roasted vegetables seemed to call out for an elegant baking dish. And so I began arranging the ingredients carefully in a ceramic dish made in France.

I soon saw that was a mistake. I needed more room!

Consulting Big Daddy, I learned that my chunks of zucchini, peppers, and onions had to be in one layer to brown properly. Packed too closely, they would steam.

Out came the sheet pan.

This is a heroic old sheet pan I’ve had for a long time. And someone else had it a long time before I did. At church coffee hour, one of my fellow parishioners looked at it with admiration.

“That,” he said, “is a very, very, VERY old tin pan.”

For the thousandth time, it did its job.

Next time when I’m roasting vegetables, I’ll know enough to reach for it again.

Lesson learned from Big Daddy — vegetables need room.

With a month of cooking with Big Daddy under my belt — literally! — I love looking back on things I’ve learned.

Several days in, I roasted garlic cloves. I asked Big Daddy how to do that, and he gave me an easy guide.

I went out on a limb and roasted a duck.

And most recently I learned to butterfly a pork loin.

I almost didn’t do it. It looked too confusing, and my schedule that day was complicated. But I asked Big Daddy for step by step directions, and he gave them to me.

End result, as we say here in Buffalo — an elegant entrée to be proud of. I loved our working title: Butterflied Pork Loin Roulade.

Plus, when Big Daddy tallied up what I would have spent for this in a restaurant, it turned out I had saved $150. I believe it.

Butterflied Pork Loin Roulade — what’s not to love?

And I butterflied it myself.

Thanks to My Home Bistro, I am out of my cocoon and spreading my wings!

What will I butterfly next?

 

It’s always lovely to dine with your spouse, or invite friends over. And when you do that, it’s great to have Big Daddy there as your co-pilot.

But Big Daddy also makes dining solo a memorable experience!

I asked Big Daddy to help me prepare lunch. It was going to be just me. I had leftover egg whites from my various ice cream experiments, carried on with Big Daddy’s help. We decided to use up those egg whites in a delicious way — in a Mediterranean frittata.

We created a recipe — I had to add three more eggs, and vegetables. I think Big Daddy called for mushrooms. However at the last minute I subbed in cabbage ribbons, left over from when we had that yummy Chicken and Sausage Cacciatore. Howard had the cacciatore over pasta. I enjoyed it over buttery cabbage.

That is the beauty of frittatas — you can use what you have.

The frittata was a masterpiece. Perfetto, as the Italians would say.

It emerged from the oven as puffed and golden as Big Daddy had predicted. I let it rest for five minutes, as my Executive Chef had directed, and then I cut a wedge — about a quarter of the frittata. The other three quarters would keep in the fridge. I will get to them.

I plated my warm frittata portion with salad and cucumber slices. I went out to the porch, our Bistro.

This was a wonderful lunch!

And as I enjoyed it, I did not forget to compliment the chef.

I was thinking about how without Big Daddy, without My Home Bistro, I would not be treating myself so well. I would be cutting corners, figuring no one else was there. I would have just thrown something together, not bothered with the herbs, not allowed myself to open a package of feta cheese.

Involving Big Daddy in the process made the meal enjoyable — not just a pit stop.

Now, things were different. Lunch was something to be savored. To take time for. To enjoy.

It’s fun to go that extra mile — just for yourself.

It promised to be a delicious chocolate mocha ice cream. However, it met a frozen-solid plot twist at my home bistro —and gave me insights on how to become a better chef.

I am happy to say that especially with Big Daddy’s help, fiascos are few. When they happen, though, they make for a great story. As a journalist by profession, I appreciate that.

First off, this one was definitely not Big Daddy’s fault.

How was he to know I didn’t know enough to turn on my ice cream maker?

I had just made ice cream, successfully, two nights before. Somehow, that evening, I must have gotten it right. The deal is, you switch on the ice cream maker so the canister is turning. Then you pour in your not-yet-frozen custard.

For whatever reason, this second time around, I just let the machine sit there, and I poured in the mixture.

Then I switched on the machine.

It gave a kind of groan and then just sat there.

Doh!

The mixture had frozen to the sides, locking the canister in place and bringing dessert production to a halt.

Two morals to this story:

First, turn on your ice cream machine before you pour in your custard.

Second, whenever you make ice cream, have a second dessert idea in reserve. Something simple in mind. Strawberries topped with whipped cream. Strawberries by themselves. Apple slices sauteed in butter and topped with cream or cinnamon. In winter, a cup of hot chocolate. A couple of cookies. Something.

Because ice cream can be iffy. A host of things can go wrong.

In this case, we fell back on a selection of liqueurs. A Mozart chocolate liqueur, a classic bottle of Amaretto diSaronno, and a fig liqueur made their way to the table. Three tiny shot glasses, and we all had a sip or two.

The canister went into the fridge, to thaw over the next couple of days.

Right now the mixture is chilling again in a bowl, the canister is back in the freezer, and the Blue Hour Bistro is preparing for another churn.

This is how you become a better cook.

One adventure at a time!

 

One delight of MyHomeBistro is being able to work together with Big Daddy to create a recipe.

Recently, we created an ice cream recipe together. I follow a low-carb eating regime, and I have dreamed of making ice cream with no sweetener. I’d never been able to pull it off — but with Big Daddy’s help, I did.

No sugar, no monkfruit, no allulose, no whatever-ose.

Neither of us was sure it would work. Big Daddy was concerned because, he explained, freezing tones down sweetness. However, he grew encouraged when I mentioned not only a bowl of strawberry slices I had, but also a bowl of whipped cream — leftover whipped cream I’d made to go with the strawberries. The whipped cream was lightly sweetened with a teaspoon of vanilla extract.

We decided to give it a go.

Daddy-O went with an idea I had, that we could do an egg custard, not just a basic Philadelphia-style ice cream. I once had a gelato cookbook that included a coffee gelato that called for egg yolks in addition to cream. I will never forget how rich and good that coffee gelato was, and how little sugar it required — something like a quarter cup for the whole quart.

The richer the ice cream, the less sweetener you need, because the richness is delicious on its own. That is how I have it figured out. Those old low-fat ice cream recipes that used to be everywhere would call for tons of sugar.

Anyway, together, Big Daddy and I went forward. Together, we created this recipe. Note: You can work with Big Daddy to create a recipe! Here is what we came up with. I am overjoyed to report that when it emerged from the ice cream maker — a Deni Scoop Factory, made in Buffalo — it was a triumph. When I tasted it, I couldn’t believe it. It was sweetly, subtly, strawberry flavored.

I served it in antique orange cocktail glasses I found several years ago at Amvets. This was a great excuse to use them! I had some strawberry puree left over from making the recipe, so I spooned a little over the top of the ice cream. However, it really didn’t need it.

One note: Daddy-O had included directions to strain the mixture before it went into the ice cream maker. I told him, I just can’t do that. It was just too much work. And I would suggest not straining this ice cream — because I loved the jammy feel of the strawberry seeds now and then . They may even have added more flavor.

Was it a lot of work? Yes — but next time it will be easier.

And there will be a next time! Very soon.

Strawberry Custard Gelato

Timing & heat: Reduce berries 20–30 minutes over medium-low; cook custard 4–7 minutes over low to 170–175°F; chill at least 4 hours; churn 20–25 minutes; freeze 45–60 minutes if desired.

Ingredients

• 4 cups sliced strawberries
• 4 large egg yolks
• 1 cup heavy cream
• 1½ cups lightly sweetened vanilla whipped cream. (Mine had no sugar, just a teaspoon of vanilla extract.)

Steps

1. Cook strawberries uncovered in a wide saucepan over medium-low heat for 20–30 minutes, stirring and crushing occasionally, until thick and reduced to about 2 cups. Purée and chill completely.
2. Measure ¾ cup purée for the gelato. Refrigerate or freeze the remainder.
3. Heat the heavy cream until steaming.
4. Gradually whisk the hot cream into the yolks. Return everything to the saucepan.
5. Cook over low heat, stirring continuously, until the custard reaches 170–175°F and coats a spoon, about 4–7 minutes. Strain.
6. Stir in ¾ cup chilled strawberry purée. Chill thoroughly for at least 4 hours.
7. Gently fold in the whipped cream. Taste the fully chilled base; it should be pleasantly tart but dessert-like.
8. Churn for 20–25 minutes, until thick like soft-serve. Serve or freeze 45–60 minutes for firmer scoops.

Watch For

• Do not overload the batch with extra purée; excess berry adds water.
• Steam the cream without boiling it, and keep the custard over low heat.
• The custard is safely cooked and ready at 170–175°F when it coats the spoon.

Anyone else want to give this a go? Let me know if you do!

I have been negotiating with Big Daddy today on how to bring dinner to the table in an organized fashion. I love to cook, and Howard and I have been loving our dinners. However, I need to become more organized. Last night Howard was at the table eating — but though I had served him, my plate was still sitting in the cupboard.

That ain’t right!

To that end, I am working so Big Daddy can give me a game plan. Here is what he is agreeing to give me:

• Start with total time to table.
• List each dish’s separate timing.
• Build Bistro setup into the sequence.
• Begin every section with a specific action—never a vague cue such as “while the sauce starts.”
• Include exactly when each dish enters the oven and when it gets turned.
• Place useful table tasks inside natural cooking waits.
• Have water, drinks, candles, and both plates ready before the food finishes.
• Finish with broiling, garnishing, plating both meals together, and sitting down—nothing left cooking.

For me, a big sticking point is having the bistro ready. I am always jumping up to plug in the twinkle lights. To grab the pitcher of water from the fridge — if indeed there is a pitcher of water in the fridge. To get some more ice cubes. And look… there’s no salt grinder on the table. Doh!

Last night I was attempting Shrimp Saganaki and Roasted Charred Zucchini. The zucchini never did make it to the table. I had to sub in a cucumber and arugula salad, and I sat down a full 10 minutes after Howard did. All’s well that ends well, and we loved the meal. But mistakes were made.

Tonight, I aim for better choreography.

I will report!

Pull up a chair. This is where MyHomeBistro will share seasonal menus, useful kitchen discoveries, behind-the-scenes experiments, and the small touches that turn dinner into a place worth going.

The doors are just opening. Follow along as we build the Bistro one good meal at a time.