Babies and Beef Cubes

First, it was the “Autumn Dream Stew” (which, by the way, no A-Town reader identified as the namesake of my first French horn NYSSMA solo, practiced for 3 days and executed for a perfect score in 1985…I’m not bragging. That experience set me up for a regrettable pattern of procrastination, from which I am still recovering).

Next, there was the “Braised Cheddar Beef Cubes,” a recipe from my friend Holly’s blog. I tried it out for a church potluck a couple weeks ago. To be fair to my fellow parishioners, I posted a sign beside my food offering: “Braised Beef Concoction (in crockpot), served over pasta (in pot)—made by ‘Grace,’ who rarely cooks and who really doesn’t know what ‘braised’ means.” It was a huge hit! Consumed quickly, with several complaints from people who did NOT get to partake. I didn’t feel I could call the dish by its original name because I had only a small square of cheddar to shred over the finished product, plus I made a few other modifications.

That seems to be the key to keep me cooking: Modifications. Adaptations. Flexibility. Part of my problem with recipes, historically, was that I haven’t had all the requisite ingredients, nor the necessary time to shop for them, so I simply didn’t do it. But now I am discovering that if I make do with what I have on hand, I can come up with some passable meals that are healthier and more economical than past non-efforts (e.g., soup from a can, pre-prepared frozen foods, take-out meals, or bowls of cold cereal with milk).

I’m on a roll! I invited more friends over for dinner the other night and pulled out my copy of Lickety-Split Meals For Health-Conscious People on the Go! by Zonya Foco. This was a purchase I made 3 or 4 years ago, totally snagged by the promo on the back of the book: “Make Your Good Intentions Come True!” Well, it’s taken me awhile, but it’s happening. I made the “Gypsy Stew” and the “Broccoli Salad with Dried Cherries.” My most noteworthy modifications were substituting cherry-flavored cranberries for the cherries in the salad (cranberries were about half the price of cherries where I shopped); and I confess that I added a smidge extra cayenne pepper powder to the stew recipe. I was hoping to help my friend A., whose baby is due any day. Alas, the pepper failed to induce labor.

I thought the stew was delicious, my best effort in recent history. I will definitely make it again soon, but probably not for my next formal cooking opportunity: Making dinner for another family we know who just welcomed a baby girl yesterday. I know from experience that breast milk and spicy foods should not mix! Perhaps I should attempt my friend Leena’s old standby, “Cream of Mushroom Roast.” (Hey, Leena—you out there? Where can I find that recipe, huh? I promise NOT to take it on any buses, trains or double strollers!)