The Spice of Life

My German grandmother baked the most scrumptious desserts. Her fancy, many-layered tortes and coffee-cake-like kuchens were magical, and her cookies just plain wonderful. Oma died when I was 10 years old, and while I could never forget those flavors, it took me years to decode the secrets hidden in her pastries.

I watched her grind spices and rub herbs, but it didn’t readily dawn on me that here was the essence. Anise, cardamom, nutmeg, and coriander were just a few of her favorites. Her liberal use of herbs and spices gave her cakes and cookies an earthy flair. I can still smell her dill bread. Sometimes I would complain of a stomachache so Oma would doctor me with a fragrant cup of fresh mint tea with honey. Don’t get me wrong, she didn’t have herbs hanging from the rafters, but the smells in Oma’s kitchen were the next best thing.

My father’s mother, an Irish farm wife, was meat and potatoes all the way. She seasoned with bacon grease and salt, onions and garlic. It was rare to find any starch other than potatoes on her table. She made yeast rolls with leftover mashed potatoes. I soon realized that if I combined what I learned from both Grandma and Oma, I would have my own style. In college I majored in food and nutrition and discovered yet another layer of flavor. I moved to New Orleans early in my marriage, and so my cooking gained yet another spice sensibility.

The right combination of herbs and spices makes the difference in so many dishes. Pairing tomatoes with basil is so natural I can’t imagine fixing a tomato dish without rubbing some dried basil into it, or better yet, adding some fresh basil at the end of the cooking time. A simple dish we make regularly at my house, one my father-in-law dubbed “Kansas Spaghet” — exemplifies that wonderful flavor.
Moving to Alabama brought another layer of awareness. It’s here I learned that buttermilk and an assortment of spices and herbs can do anything. It can marinate Sunday’s chicken and dress that same meal’s salad. Pepper and paprika are also staples here, along with garlic.

Dill Bread
This recipe closely matches the smell and texture of my Oma’s dill bread. She used her own dill in summer but she also made the bread in winter. A combination of dried dill weed and dill seed seems to best duplicate the taste I remember.

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Place the yeast, sugar, salt, and warm water in a cup to dissolve. Set aside. Combine the cottage cheese, onion, dill, baking soda, and butter. Beat well. Add the yeast mixture and half the flour. Beat until smooth. Stir in enough of the remaining flour to make a not-too-stiff dough. Cover and let rise until double in bulk. Stir down and turn into a well-greased loaf pan or round casserole. Let rise again until double.
Bake about 40 to 50 minutes or until golden brown. Brush with butter and sprinkle with dill seed.

Kansas Spaghet
There are rarely any leftovers when I serve this versatile side dish at my house. But if there are some, I add a little chopped leftover meat and a small can of vegetable juice and we have lunch for the next day. Try one of the varieties of diced tomatoes, such as one with green pepper and onion. To “rub” basil, as the recipe suggests, take the amount you want to add to the pot and rub it between your palms and into the pot.

Boil water in a medium-size pot adding kosher salt to taste at the boiling point. Add noodles and cook according to directions.
Drain the pasta. Put the pot back on the burner and add olive oil, sugar, diced tomatoes, and basil. Cook until heated through. Stir in the pasta. Serve warm.

Catfish Alabama Style
After experimenting with several kinds of fats for frying, I decided peanut oil works best. It tolerates high temperature without burning or smoking much, and the taste is fresh, not greasy.

Heat about 2 inches of peanut oil in a deep frying pan over a medium-high heat. The oil should reach 375 degrees. Maintaining this temperature ensures a crispy, not-greasy crust. Just before you add the cold fish, turn the heat to high and then monitor the temperature, adjusting to keep it at 375 degrees. Combine cornmeal, flour, cayenne pepper, paprika, and salt. Mix well.
Dip the catfish in buttermilk, shake off excess, and dredge in the cornmeal mixture. Fry two catfish at a time, turning once when bottom begins to turn golden. Remove from oil when fish flakes easily when probed with a fork — about 2-3 minutes, depending on fillet size. Drain on a paper towel and keep warm in a 170-degree oven until ready to serve.

Cinnamon Buttermilk Brownies
In some parts of the South people call these old favorites Funeral Bars because they make a great bring-along dessert. Cinnamon is the difference in this delightful bar.

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Grease a jelly roll pan (a cookie sheet with sides) with shortening.
Combine flour, sugar, salt, and cinnamon. Set aside. Boil water, butter, and cocoa in a medium saucepan. Pour boiling mixture into dry ingredients and stir well. (Don’t wash the pot. Instead, make the icing in it.) In a separate bowl beat eggs, buttermilk, baking soda, and vanilla. Add to the flour mixture and stir well. Pour into prepared pan and bake for 25 to 30 minutes, or until the brownies start to pull away from the sides.

Buttermilk Brownie Icing
Start mixing as the brownies reach the final five minutes in the oven.

In the same saucepan used for the brownie recipe, melt butter, and mix with cocoa. Stir in powdered sugar, milk, and vanilla and heat only until blended and smooth. Pour immediately onto the hot cake as it comes out of the oven. Spread icing and cool. This freezes well.