Comfortably Full

Winter is drawing to a close. And yes, to all you smartasses who think South Florida doesn’t have “winter” per se; we sure as hell did this year. We did not get the snowfalls that many parts of the country had to endure. Nevertheless, we frequently saw temperatures drop into the upper thirties and low forties. It may not seem like such a hardship compared to many of you, but after being down here for nearly seventeen years, I must admit it, my blood has thinned. And while I find an occasional chilly spell quite invigorating, this year caused me a bit of discomfort. Alas, I was able to find solice in those foods that snuggle up to us like a fuzzy teddy bear.

You know the ones I’m talking about. The dishes our mother’s, and their mother’s before them, prepared to ward off the cold that had settled into our bones. Sometimes these rib-sticklers were fixed to mend an aching heart, or provide the extra blanket we wrapped ourselves in when we came down with one of Old Man Winter’s henchmen; cold and flu. Some form of chicken soup has been the standard that has stood the test of time. While lacking in volume and mass, it was always “good for what ailed you.” Though some of our favorites may not have been very good for us, they sure as hell did the trick for whatever may have been ailing us.

Philly Cheesesteaks and chicken pot pies have no redeeming nutritional value at all. Hell, they should come with warming labels like cigarettes: “Caution you may clog an artery while eating this item. A heart attack may occur.” I must say, I definitely feel a sense of satisfaction after eating either one.

A steaming pot of chili and some sourdough bread for wongeing, was short on nutritional value, but long on satisfaction. A pot of beef stew that had bubbled away for half the day, shared the same qualities.

Meatloaf, with a side of mashed potatoes and gravy may not be what I ask the warden for as my last meal, but it’s pretty high on the list when the weather turns foul.

Each family has a recipe for meatloaf. I have eaten meatloaf at the dinner tables of friends and relatives both as a child, and as an adult. The meatloafs (meatloaves?) served were as varied as the company with whom I shared this bounty. My maternal grandmother, who legend has it, once burned water, served a meatloaf so devoid of any moisture, resembled a sizable moon rock. It never mattered to me. It filled the hole it was supposed to, and left enough for sandwiches later. Granted, the now cold loaf had to be slathered in catsup; each bite chased with at least eight ounces of milk just to get it down without choking.

I’ve eaten meatloaf containing onions, both real and imagined, depending on your opinion of Lipton Onion Soup Mix.

I’ve eaten meatloaf with tomatoes, both canned and fresh.

I’ve even eaten meatloaf made with pickles; courtesy of Jim Oot’s wife Jill. It was terrific.

Pot roast; is there a better aroma to waft from a kitchen when the mercury drops? I’m a bottom round man myself. Some find a “California Roast” more to their liking. If you don’t simmer a bottom round long enough, a new baseball glove could serve as a substitute. A “California” or chuck roast plopped in a Dutch oven with carrots, potatoes, onions, and tomatoes, when prepared according to the “Jesus Christ Cookbook” can feed up to two dozen unanticipated guests….and there’s still leftovers.

If there is a meal more synonymous as an antidote for the icy winds of the season than grilled cheese sammies and tomato soup, please tell me what it is. I am not particularly fond of either, but just the image it conjures in my mind’s eye makes me feel warm all over.

Macaroni and cheese, though normally a side dish, on a blustery day becomes a hearty staple able to stand on its own merit.

The recuperative powers of comfort foods may be found in their simplicity. They need little babysitting. Turn the heat down, or off completely, if a couple of errands need to be run. You can leave some of them on low all day, stirring every now and then to prevent sticking. None of these dishes will ever be ruined if more logs need to brought in to put on the fire.

Desserts also have secured their place as gastronomical panacea. From Apple Brown Betty to S’mores, each is capable to provide warmth when none can be found.
Ice Cream may not be able to fend off the cold, but it sure is a good defense of the cold that lingers inside. A pint of Haagen-Daz cherry vanilla has rescued me from a blue funk on more than one occasion.

A hunk of three-layer German Chocolate Cake succeeded where the thermostat failed.
Just making a batch of brownies can warm a heart without even consuming them, though I highly recommend sampling after baking to make sure they’re suitable to offer company. Even a solitary drink -a concept to which I was unfamiliar- can give you that much needed warm and fuzzy feeling.

What better excuse for warm Bailey’s Irish Cream, or a Hot Toddy than watching the snow fall through frost dusted panes of glass. If you don’t imbibe, a mug of hot cocoa with marshmallows can warm the cockles of whatever needs warming.

Sometimes it wasn’t our mothers, but our fathers who made the food that was as good as a hug. My dad being the good German that he was, made a potato soup I could get enough of. When the weather turned foul, he provided the fare. Cream of Wheat with a little honey and melted butter hit more than one spot. His lemon meringue pie made me feel better just looking at it. It’s too bad his Alzheimer’s has not only taken away his culinary skills, but also the memory of what they once were.

Today, the weather here in SoFla is teasing us with a sample of what lies ahead. My son Cory is home from college for Spring Break. The temperature may not be calling for comfort food, but the companionship is.

One night this week I’ll make Italian Hot Dogs. Up north we call them Jimmy Buff’s, just like the restaurant. The establishment was recently featured on the Travel Channel. My grandfather would buy me one after he closed the deal on his next new car at Washington Motors in East Orange. Down here we can’t get the pizza bread used in the original. We are relegated to using hogie rolls. Personally, I like to use baguettes if I can find them. I’ll saute ppers and onions after I fry the potatoes. I’ll dig out the excess dough from the rolls to make room for the two dogs per bun. I’ll smother the barkers with the onions, peppers, and potatoes. My wife Helen, Cory and I will sit down to feast at the dining room table and talk of the day; an event that’s all too infrequent since Cory has been off at school. He always looked forward to “Sunday Family Dinner.” After dinner, I’ll ask him if he’d like to go for a blue Icee. I sure hope they feel comfortable. Bon Appetit!