HG’s late beloved Mom grew up in a tiny, impoverished “shtetel” in the Minsk province of Russia. She was a thrifty woman who managed to feed her family amply during The Great Depression. Nothing was ever wasted. Leftovers were recycled into some tasty and some outlandish meals. Every drop of a chicken was utilized. Chicken soup (with noodles). Boiled chicken with horseradish and boiled potatoes. Chicken skin rendered into chicken fat and “grieven” (fried crisp skin much like–sacrilege–a pork rind). Liver was incorporated in chopped calf’s liver or sauteed as a special treat for little HG. Bones, gizzard, neck were the basis of stock and chicken feet (despised then and now by HG) gave a gelatinous touch to “tzimmes”, carrots cooked with honey, ginger, chicken fat and garlic (delicious). Even the wishbone had a function. Mom covered it in crochet. It hung on a wall and was a repository for thimbles and needles. No, BSK is not an obsessive like Mom, but she has a dab hand at using leftovers and food remnants. A few nights ago, BSK made a parsley pesto for a crudites dip. It wasn’t eaten as HG/BSK and guests devoured many oysters. Not wasted. BSK put it to good use as a sauce (with additional oil, garlic and stock) for a pasta dish of pappardelle with perfectly done fresh cauliflower florets dusted with parmesan and red pepper flakes. Waste not. Want not.
True pleasure to return to HG’s posts after too long AWOL (inexcusably so!). Always of special interest is remembrances of HG’s Bronx beginnings. How well do I remember the little rascals criminality in sneaking into the pantry and gobbling down the Passover cake (or some comparable yumminess) all by himself!
Truth is I can read these remembrances with more pleasure than the current dinners because I am so insanely THAT I AM NOT THERE TO SHARE IN THEM. The baked hake is a prime example!