One of our children refused to eat tomatoes until we vacationed in Maine one summer.
We rented a small house on Mount Desert Island. Days were spent hiking in Acadia National Park. We would hit local markets for lunch ingredients and make big sandwiches with thick slices of local tomatoes.
“These are Maine tomatoes,” we would explain when we stopped for lunch on a rock in the sun. “They’re different than other tomatoes. Try the sandwich.”
And the child ate with gusto, reveling in the sweet morsel that tasted of summer sun.
Then we would scour local markets on our way back for supper ingredients. One evening, a salad contained many cut-up fresh Maine tomatoes. The recalcitrant daughter pronounced them delicious, and vowed never to eat any tomato other than a “Maine tomato.”
For years following, as I presented a salad at the table in Concord or Philadelphia, I would remark, fully aware of the fib, that it contained the child’s favorite: Maine tomatoes. Most were from local farm markets, others were of dubious origin. Each was devoured with a soliloquy from the child on why Maine tomatoes were the best. I might have kept the fingers of one hand tightly crossed in my lap throughout dinner. At least, I should have. Recently, this grown daughter, with children of her own, sent me a picture of a tomato she bought recently. Its proud label defined it as a Maine tomato.
Cooks know that sometimes harmless culinary phantoms help people try things they ordinarily wouldn’t entertain, but with the right table setting, will come to love.
Another sort of phantom is a recipe for Graham Cracker Brownies I received many years ago from Lesley Herzberg, the executive director of the Berkshire County Historical Society. It’s her mother’s recipe for brownies. The recipe uses half a box of graham crackers ground up, and a bag of chocolate chips with a few other things. There is no sugar in it. Through kitchen magic, the grahams somehow take on the characteristics of chocolate and create an irresistible bar that you would swear was just chocolate, cocoa and sugar, the traditional mix.
The winner of cooking fake-outs, however, is a recipe I received from a colleague at the New Jersey State Council on the Arts some years ago. Since we were an arts council, and the employees were artistic types, most recipes exchanged were headed by elaborate hand-drawn illustrations, sometimes watercolor, sometimes colored with gouache. The careful printing on the cards or sheets of art-quality paper was close to calligrapher precise.
The culinary phantom is for a corn casserole. There is no corn in it. The author told me this was a family recipe, developed because two members of the family refused to eat fish. The cook’s mother called it corn casserole, and the fish-averse people lapped it up for 28 years before the secret was revealed. The revelation apparently did not dampen their enjoyment.
It is an easy and inexpensive recipe to make. Enjoy, and see if one of your non-fish eaters goes for it. You can serve sliced Maine tomatoes on the side.
This ultra-buttery Irish scone recipe brings back the magic of peaceful country lanes, bustling market towns, and the unforgettable taste of clotted cream.
CORN CASSEROLE
Serves: 4
Prep time: 15 minutes
Cook time: 45 minutes to 1 hour
INGREDIENTS
4 cups coarsely crushed saltine crackers
2 cups whole milk
2 cans minced clams with their juice
1 stick unsalted butter, melted
4 eggs, slightly beaten
Salt and pepper to taste
Breadcrumbs or a little grated Parmesan (optional)
DIRECTIONS
Preheat oven to 350 F.
Crush the saltines in a large bowl. Add the milk and mix with a spatula to moisten all the crackers. Let the mixture sit until all the milk is absorbed.
Add the clams with their juices, salt and pepper, butter and eggs. Mix well and turn into an oven-safe casserole dish.
Bake for 45 minutes to one hour, until the top is puffy and the mixture is set. Remove from oven and sprinkle crumbs or grated cheese, if using.