Cook's Country February/March 2018

MY GRANDMOTHER GREW up on a Maine farm in the 1910s and ’20s. The fastest transportation was a horse, and the only citrus fruit she ever encountered was a box of oranges all the way from Florida, a special delivery just in time for New Year’s Day. Back then, everyone worked, kids included. There was wood to gather, soap to make, clothing to mend, and produce from the garden to put up for the winter. Every few weeks she’d trek through the woods to the mill to pick up flour, and because the family couldn’t aflord a cow, she’d meet a neighbor on Wednesdays to swap eggs for milk. Everyone pitched in, because the family depended on it. Once or twice a year, merchants from Portland would come through town…

Colors of Beets My grocery store regularly carries golden beets. Do they taste the same as red beets? -Mary Payne, Winston-Salem, N.C. While many supermarkets offer only red beets, there are many varieties of beets in different colors. We tried three of the most common: red beets, golden beets, and Chioggia beets (easily recognizable when cut by their concentric red and white circles). We sampled the three types of beets three ways: raw, roasted, and in our Marinated Beet Salad with Oranges and Pecorino. Overall, tasters found the golden beets “less sweet” than red beets, with a stronger earthy flavor; one taster commented that they tasted “carrot-like.” In contrast, the Chioggia beets were “mild,” with a “bitter aftertaste,” but they got bonus points for their striking appearance when raw (the…

Easier Dough Wrangling Susan Whitney, Branson, Mo. I used to find store-bought pizza dough frustrating to work with; by the time I finished rolling it out to the size I wanted, it had already started to shrink. This resulted in a much smaller pizza than intended—and flour everywhere. Happily, I’ve found a better way. First, I let the dough come to room temperature. Next, I place 1 tablespoon of flour in a gallon-size zipper-lock bag and shake the bag to distribute it evenly. Finally, I place a ½-pound piece of pizza dough (half the ball) in the bag. Leaving the bag open, I use a pin to roll the dough into an even layer. I let the dough sit while I heat the oven and gather toppings; the dough doesn’t…

AS I STEP out the front door of Villa di Roma, I wave to the faded black-and-white picture of Sylvester Stallone as Rocky Balboa hanging above the bar, a sure sign that I’m solidly in South Philadelphia. I walk a short distance up Ninth Street to a satellite prep kitchen where Basil DeLuca, a member of the family behind the restaurant, and his daughter, Carmella Garofoli, are making meatballs. The prep kitchen is long and narrow, fitted with shiny stainless-steel appliances and fixtures and ceramic tile floors; a worn wooden table sits in the middle. Two massive pots of tomato sauce, aka “gravy,” simmer on the stovetop in the background, the future destination for the meatballs in progress. Every now and then, DeLuca gives the sauces a purposeful stir with…

YOU’D BE HARD-PRESSED to find a person who doesn’t love eating a juicy, tender meatball with a slow-simmered tomato sauce. But making them? That’s another story. Between the mixing, shaping, browning, and simmering, it can be a real project. Our usual method for meatballs involves browning them in the oven or on the stovetop before finishing them in the sauce, a technique that adds meaty flavor but can be supermessy and requires extra work. But after our executive food editor’s visit to Philadelphia (see “On the Road”), my coworkers and I all had meatballs on the brain. Thing is, we didn’t want to wait for a Sunday supper—we wanted them on any given weeknight, which meant we needed an easier process. So I wondered, what if I skipped that browning…

LEFTOVERS FROM A holiday meal are never a bad thing, but bubble and squeak, a quick (and thrifty) hash of mashed potato and cabbage with an English accent, makes having—and eating—leftovers a joy. The dish, which picks up loads of tasty browning in the pan, gets its funny name from the sound the mixture makes when it pops in the hot skillet. Bubble and squeak always contains potato and cabbage, but in Great Britain (where it’s often eaten for breakfast, in addition to as a dinner side dish), it serves as a catchall for whatever other vegetables and meats are kicking around the refrigerator. While I found recipes that call for additions of cooked beets, carrots, peas, parsnips, and even beef roast, I decided to create a more basic version…