Recipe with highly unusual title is a wonderful discovery

Am I the only person alive who never heard of this unusual recipe?

In my "Celebrating a Healthy Harvest" cookbooklet I stared at it for weeks and wondered how on earth someone could make an entire salad out of celery. At best celery is a filler--designed to give some crunch to salads such as tuna fish and chicken salad or to the occasional casserole.

Yet I hate to see a growing-limp celery bunch sit around in my refrigerator and be headed for the compost heap just because I can't seem to think of any last-minute use for it. Celery is one of those food items that a typical cook uses just a little bit at a time--one or two stalks at the most. Timing food preparation so that an entire bunch of celery gets used until the very last crunch is difficult.

That's why the Warm Celery Salad recipe from the Chickasaw Nation ultimately drew me in. I hate to be a wasteful cook and believe in being a good steward of the food that God has provided for our table. I knew the Warm Celery Salad recipe would gobble up the remaining three stalks in my refrigerator. I just had to try it.

Man, was I (and was my Hubby) surprised! Warm Celery Salad (indeed, served warm--right out of the skillet on top of the stove) was impressive--so much, in fact, that we ate everything the skillet held and then tipped the scales a little bit the next day. (Each of us does a daily weight monitoring as part of our lifestyle fitness program.) We couldn't help ourselves from going back for repeated helpings. The black-eyed peas are a great accompaniment to the celery as well as a provider of fiber and bulk.

To top off the Warm Celery Salad we put a few of my friend Mary Ann's Sweet Garlic Dills pickle chips on top. (Her recipe appears on page 149 in Way Back in the Country Garden.) No better summertime menu combo than this one exists.

Warm Celery Salad

2 tablespoons cooking oil

1 medium onion, coarsely chopped

2 cloves garlic, minced

1/2 teaspoon dried thyme

2 cups canned blackeyed peas (or canned garbanzo beans/chick peas)

2 tablespoons vinegar

3 large stalks celery, chopped

Cook oil, onion, garlic, and thyme in a large skillet over medium heat until onion is soft, about 6 minutes. Reduce heat to medium-low. Stir in vinegar and blackeyed peas until blackeyed peas are warmed. Stir in celery. Cover and cook for 2 minutes or until celery is warmed. Serve warm. Makes 4 servings.

Returning to the heritage of the Delta County land brings great fellowship and a fun new recipe to try

OK, I'll admit it. I had an ulterior motive.

Naturally, I scheduled my book-signing this past weekend in Delta County because I needed to launch my book there--the setting for Way Back in the Country Garden--the place in which the main characters, The Three Little Red-Haired Miller Girls, grew up.

Eight years ago, when I launched my first book, Way Back in the Country, the prequel to the new one, we had a fantastic party on the Cooper square at a gift shop there. It was a fitting way to kick off my new book in the locale in which the book's events happened. Of course we'd want to do it all over again in 2010 with the birth of the new title.

Debbie Grider and the folks at The Prairie Rose Flowers & Gifts, Cooper's dynamite new shop right in front of the Delta County Courthouse, were thrilled to be hosts for the 2010 launch. On Saturday they extended wonderful hospitality and gave us a great place to serve cookies made from recipes out of the new book (and Sparkling Holiday Punch from Way Back in the Country).

But truthfully, my sub-reason for heading to Cooper this past weekend went well beyond that of any book promotion. Basically I just wanted an excuse to experience just one more Delta County summer day. The place had been the locus for a thousand childhood summer memories as I grew up (described in the Way Back in the Country Garden chapter, One Smart Indian.) Each year as school ended, I'd start packing my bags to head for the farm of Aunt Bonnie and Uncle Bill, who lived about six miles out from Cooper. For a city kid this "summer idyll", as I called it, brought days of sitting on the back porch helping Aunt Bonnie peel peaches, making mud pies with my cousins in the back of Uncle Bill's pickup, and breathing in fresh country air that the typical Baby Boomer of that day didn't get to experience.

Even though the farm long ago was sold and I couldn't return to the exact spot in which I passed those halcyon days, Saturday's stint in Cooper helped me walk down memory lane a bit and reminded me of those pleasurable, lazy mornings in a rare rural setting.

I also knew that the family gathering at my cousins' house after the book-signing likely would be a great place to pick up a new family recipe. Always the time to sample some wonderful and inventive cooking, I almost always emerge with new ideas for something to try--something usually fresh from the garden. I was not disappointed, as on the buffet table was a new item--Pasta Salad. The recipe actually originated with Elaine Wible, the mother-in-law of my cousin Marleene. Back in the spring Elaine had brought the dish when Marleene's baby, Mia, had her first birthday party. The blend of flavors, along with the crunchy bell pepper and celery in the mix, made it memorable. As with many other "in-law" dishes that have been appended throughout the years, this one would be incorporated into our family's regular fare, I felt sure.

The time in Cooper was precious indeed. Among the guests at the book-signing (some guests, I might add, braved a heavy downpour that morning to crowd into the florist shop) was a family friend who remembered my Granddad Wheeler when he (at age 98) was preacher at the Klondike Church of Christ. As though they happened yesterday this sweet visitor could cite lines from his sermons and jokes he often told. She also recalled stories that "Bandad" told on me, his only grandchild. Bandad died in 1978--32 years ago. To imagine that someone, all these years later, could have recalled his exact words astounded me.

I returned from my Delta County book launch feeling a very blessed human being indeed. Great fellowship at the signing, great family memories, a wonderful memory-lane walk, and a terrific recipe to share. Doesn't get much better than this.

Pasta Salad

4 boxes vermicelli, cooked according to instructions on box

3 tablespoons seasoned salt (or salt substitute, such as Mrs. Dash)

3 tablespoons lemon juice

3 tablespoons oil (we use olive oil)

Mix together and refrigerate overnight. If mixture is sticky add a little oil.

Next morning add:

1 bell pepper, chopped

3 stalks celery, chopped

1 small jar chopped pimiento

1 small can black olives, chopped

Stir in:

1 1/2 cups mayonnaise (we use fat-free)

Makes a large, tasty salad.

A healthy, tasty dinner from veggies left in the refrigerator, freezer, and garden

We're not sure who Kathy is, but we'd sure like to thank her from the bottom of our hearts.

Her recipe, entitled "Kathy's Stir Fry", certainly delivered up for us a delicious dinner that was one of the biggest potpourris of garden veggies I've ever experienced.

And the best part about it was the line on the recipe, "Any vegetable may be omitted or substituted as desired."

That gave me a green light to look in my refrigerator and see what veggies were about to be on their last leg if I didn't use them soon. Solution: since Kathy says this is OK, I simply pull them off the shelves, chop, and stir in.

So, at the place in which she said to add asparagus, I subbed carrots, plus I threw in some chopped celery that was close to looking on the haggard side. Instead of regular onion I threw in the remainder of a red onion that was about to go limp on me. How virtuous I felt to be able to perform these rescue operations! Her recipe even called for 3/4 cup of frozen green peas (a recent Prevention magazine discussed the health benefits of frozen veggies and urged us not to be such "fresh" purists that we disregard the frozen-food aisle, especially when a shopper is pinching pennies.) I was happy to toss in those green peas, whose shelf life soon would be questionable as well.

"Kathy's Stir Fry" was one of my recipes from the Chickasaw Nutrition Services (I've just about made my way through cooking my latest collection of these treasured recipe cards that I obtain any time my hubby, a citizen of the Chickasaw Nation (tribe), visits Ardmore, OK, for a health exam. I look forward to another trip to Ardmore a few weeks from now so I can round up a few new cooking ideas.)

The Chickasaws are absolutely DETERMINED to improve the health conditions of their people--to reverse a downward spiral into diabetes, obesity, and other woes (that plague the general U.S. population as well.) These handy recipe cards the Chickasaw's Nutrition Services centers make available free to their people underscore the message over and over again: you CAN cook for your family the fresh way; you CAN make perfectly wonderful meals without adding things that cause ills. (For example, unlike a typical stir-fry recipe, "Kathy's Stir Fry" was amazingly good without the addition of any soy sauce, which usually boosts the sodium content of a recipe sky-high.)

The nutrition information for "Kathy's Stir Fry" read: 80 calories, 3 g fat, 0 mg cholesterol, 45 g sodium, 10 g carbohydrates, 3 g fiber. You can't beat that! (Serving the stir-fried veggies over brown rice, which the recipe suggests, alters those counts a little but adds some wonderful fiber to an already fiber-ific menu item.)

Most fun of all, the requested 3 cups of cabbage gave me a reason for traipsing out to my garden, cutting off a fresh cabbage head, and instantly adding it to the sizzling skillet for last night's dinner. When a meal necessitates that kind of activity, the joy of gardening and growing one's own food is complete. My hubby, on the road yesterday for an errand, returned home to lift the lid on the skillet and find a colorful melange of edible health just waiting for him.

Thank you, Kathy. Wherever--and whoever--you are, keep up the good work. I hope to see your name on some more of my Chickasaw recipe cards in the near future.

Kathy's Stir Fry

2 tablespoons olive oil

3/4 cup onion, diced

1/2 cup red bell pepper, diced

1/2 cup green bell pepper, diced

2 1/2 cups zucchini, sliced

2 1/2 cups yellow squash, sliced

2 cups broccoli

1 1/2 cups asparagus, fresh, sliced

2 teaspoons oregano

1/2 teaspoon black pepper

1/2 teaspoon cayenne pepper

2 garlic cloves, minced

3/4 cup green peas, frozen

Heat nonstick skillet on high heat until skillet is hot. Add 2 tablespoons of olive oil. Saute onions and red and green bell peppers for about 2 minutes. Add zucchini and squash; cook about 2 more minutes. Add broccoli, asparagus, and cabbage to skillet. Add oregano, black pepper, cayenne pepper, and garlic to vegetables. Continue to cook until broccoli is crisp-tender (about 4 minutes). Add peas. May be served with whole-grain (brown) rice. Makes 10 1-cup servings.

Not easy being green, my tomatoes might plead as they wait--and wait--to become delightful gazpacho

These may have been just about the best-traveled tomatoes around.

Back and forth they went, halfway across the country, waiting to be chopped up and stirred into a long-put-off menu item.

Finally last night they made their debut--in a very un-tomato-y sounding but nevertheless superb Green Gazpacho Soup. Magnifique! Oh, but what they went through to finally land in those soup bowls!

At least six weeks ago--very early in the growing season--I began begging Hubby, "At the first sign of any green tomatoes on the vines, bring them in. I have a recipe just waiting for them."

Sure enough, when the fledgling tomatoes first began popping out--their green skintones making them almost indistinguishable from the surrounding vines--I started bugging him again. "Bring me some green tomatoes just as soon as they're big enough to pick."

Dutifully, then, at the appointed time, when the very first outcroppings turned into plump, green orbs, Hubby hauled in five or six of them for me to chill on the shelves in the fridge.

"Oh, good. I'll make the gazpacho soon," I promised.

More green tomatoes arrived; more for the fridge. "Can't wait for the gazpacho," I warbled about my "must-cook" recipe. Still the green tomatoes piled up.

Time to head out to Phoenix to see the grands and their family. "I'll take the tomatoes with me; we'll have the gazpacho out there," I assured. A hefty plastic bag of green tomatoes went into the cooler along with the other veggies needed to make the dish.

Time in Phoenix--and grandkid visits--arrived and went. Lots of good, fresh food got prepared on that trip, but the gazpacho--first on my to-make "wish-list" when I got there, went begging.

Back into the cooler the sack of green tomatoes went. "I'll do it first thing when I get home," I vowed, rather pathetically now.

Back home, the July Fourth holiday was upon us. Holiday food to prepare--"The gazpacho will be good with all our other foods at the lake", I managed with clenched teeth. Those green tomatoes WOULD be used this holiday, no matter what. The holiday passed. No soup.

Evening-meal-prep time, July 6. I determinedly bring out my cutting board. I at last assemble the other ingredients--avocado, cucumber, green pepper, and cilantro, and drag out the green-tomato sack. My patient little tomatoes are as hardy and green as they were weeks ago when I first begged for them to be plucked from the vine. I chop and in a food processor puree the green mixture. Into the fridge to chill so the flavors meld.

Dinner time. Green Gazpacho Soup at last! WORTH THE WAIT! My long-suffering green tomatoes finally have their debut, along with their other green-veggie companions. A more perfect hot-summer evening meal never could have been invented. My new cookbook, Way Back in the Country Garden, prefaces this Green Gazpacho Soup recipe by stating, "Grabbing the first green tomatoes off the vine is wonderful because you don't have to wait for them to ripen." (although you might wait a long time to prepare them, I should have added.)

Oh, well, at least the book's other statement prefacing the recipe is 100-percent, spot-on correct: "You can almost taste the freshness of a summer garden just from reading the title of this great soup served cold." The freshness of the summer garden perfectly describes Green Gazpacho Soup--all the way to the last long-put-off drop!

Green Gazpacho Soup

1 green pepper, seeded and chopped

1 medium cucumber, peeled

1 ripe avocado, peeled

3 medium-sized green tomatoes (or the least-ripe tomatoes you can find), cored and chopped

1/2 cup cilantro leaves

1 small onion, peeled and quartered

2 cloves garlic, peeled

6 tablespoons fresh lime juice

2 tablespoons olive oil

2 teaspoons sugar (we use sugar substitute)

1 1/2 teaspoons ground cumin

1 1/2 teaspoons salt

1/8 teaspoon cayenne

Mince 1/2 cup green pepper; set aside for garnish. Place remaining pepper in large bowl. Cut cucumber lengthwise in half. With spoon remove and discard cucumber seeds. Coarsely chop cucumber. Mince 1/4 cup cucumber; set aside for garnish. Add remaining cucumber to pepper in large bowl. Cut avocado into chunks. In large bowl add avocado, tomatoes, cilantro onion, garlic, lime juice, olive oil, sugar, cumin, salt, and cayenne to cucumbers and pepper; toss. In batches puree vegetable mixture in food processor until smooth. Transfer to another large bowl or 8-cup measuring cup. Stir in 1 1/2 cups cold water; cover and refrigerate 2 hours to allow flavors to blend and soup to chill. Ladle soup into bowls. Garnish with additional cilantro leaves, minced green pepper, and cucumber. Serve chilled.

Long-ago act of kindness recalled by famous chef's fresh corn recipe

With great interest I've been following beloved TV chef Emeril as he has "gone green" and produced a line of low-fat, health-friendly recipes to add to his cooking repertoire.

The July 2010 issue of Prevention magazine features some in this new collection; it offers six "summer sides" that represent Emeril's transformation to "good-for-you" food.

One of them, Creamy Sweet Corn, caught my eye. Hubby and I enjoyed this tasty side of Emeril's during our recent July Fourth long holiday weekend. I always try to choose for the Fourth recipes that are certain standouts so we can have a holiday meal that we remember all year. My summer recipe album is stuffed with clips that bear notations about my July Fourth menus throughout the years. Of course the most memorable Fourth was the one in which our future son-in-law's parents drove over to our RV parked at the lake and Hubby and I met them for the first time. My recipe for "Lemon Grilled Salmon" is labeled "July 4, 2006; made for Casey's parents’ dinner.” That's certainly a recipe we'll never forget.

At any rate, Creamy Sweet Corn (find this on www.prevention.com) was delightful--made with corn kernels cut fresh from the cob and mixed with red pepper, celery, and onion and a sauce with a fat-free evaporated milk base. Although Emeril in Prevention suggested that it be served warmed, we enjoyed it just as much cold and served as a salad. We definitely were happy that Emeril had "gone green" (the next night we enjoyed--from the same Prevention article--Tossed Greens with Watermelon and Feta Cheese, a truly novel and refreshing mixture of the sweet and salty.)

Part of the reason Creamy Sweet Corn caught my imagination, however, had nothing to do with Emeril and his creations for Prevention. This fresh, inventive recipe reminded me of another corn recipe served at another time and an act of kindness by a dear aunt whose thoughtfulness has been remembered down the years though she's been long gone from this earth.

One summer day early in our marriage Hubby and I stopped by Aunt Bonnie and Uncle Bill's Delta County rural home for a visit near mealtime. Aunt Bonnie had just brought in some fresh ears of corn from her marvelous garden; she prepared for us the Fried Corn recipe below. My hubby extolled this to the sky; he never had dined on something so close to perfection. Aunt Bonnie, in her ever-gracious way, wrote down the recipe for him so I could attempt to recreate it for him at home. Hubby was overwhelmed that Aunt Bonnie would take such account of his interests that she would do this for him--a recent family addition and an in-law at that. A host of summers later my husband still can feel his tastebuds spring alive at the mere thought of this dish.

We're so thankful Aunt Bonnie (one of the Three Red-Haired Miller Girls who are the main characters in my new cookbook, Way Back in the Country Garden) took the time to preserve the recipe so Hubby and I can continue to remember her over-the-top hospitality. Long before the term or the concept of healthy eating ever became a household word, this precious aunt was deliciously cooking "green".

Fried Corn

8 ears fresh corn

1/2 cup milk (we use skim milk)

1/2 teaspoon salt (we use salt substitute)

1/4 teaspoon pepper

4 tablespoons butter

2 eggs (we use egg substitute)

Cut corn from cob and to kernels add milk, salt, and pepper. Melt butter in a heavy skillet. When skillet is hot and butter melted, add corn. Cook until tender. Stir occasionally. Just before corn is ready to take up, add beaten eggs and blend in well.

Harvest "softies" bring harvest of blessings on warm July 4 weekend

A recipe with the title of "Harvest Softies" sounds as though it should accompany turkey and dressing and pecan pie.

But smack in the middle of July, these delightful frosted cookies were perfect for the summer taste buds as well. They ushered in a harvest of blessings as they lined trays at my book-signing on Saturday during the July 4th weekend.

The Generator coffee shop in Historic Downtown Garland on the Square was the setting for the Garland launch for Way Back in the Country Garden (the Delta County launch is set for July 10 in Cooper, TX). A more perfect spot than this trendy Internet coffee shop could not have been selected.

My mother, one of the Three Red-Haired Miller Girls who are the main characters in my new cookbook, had so grieved over the formerly sad status of The Generator's site before it recently was restored. A Garlandite since 1941, my mother remembered the Square in its former glory days when it was the center of the universe in our hometown. As the years went by, shopkeepers retired, stores closed, and people sped to the malls to do their shopping, so often the stores stood vacant. My mother would wring her hands until some new ownership could be found in each and business was revitalized in those spots that held such memories.

This particular location on the Square's west side took an especially long and agonizing time to become regentrified. At last the spot at which The Generator now stands was purchased by Robert Smith, the son of a respected "old-Garland" family who was the ideal person to add proper credence to an earnest and accurate re-do of the once beautiful building.

Now The Generator--stunningly restored on both inside and out--is the Square's happenin' place. The proprietor, Tammy Long, makes a special effort to meet today's healthy eating requisites, with nonfat, gluten-free, and vegan offerings on the menu as well as regular fare. Tammy really outdid herself for my signing and prepared several Way Back in the Country featured recipes to offer to customers on Saturday. In baking cupcakes from Aunt Frances' Strawberry Cake recipe, Tammy served up one cupcake batch that was made gluten-free as well as stirring up another batch the traditional way. Being an Internet cafe, The Generator has Wi-Fi available, so customers with laptops dotted tables in the cafe's cheerful setting. A jazz band ensemble with a singer belted out upbeat tunes as customers poured in.

My book-signing table saw friends and loved ones pop in as a tremendous show of loving support. They included several "anchors" from my growing-up days at First Baptist Church of Garland; family members and neighbors who made special efforts to stop by on a busy weekend; civic and community contacts; some new friends who visited so they could share about their own backyard gardens; and even Garland's Mayor Pro Tem--city councilwoman Laura Perkins "Perky" Cox, who lent her perkiness to my table display and helped "arrange" my location for maximum exposure (as only a true politico knows how.)

Visitors to my table were invited to sample one of the Harvest Softies (the recipe, that features grated fresh apple, appears below) as well as Texas Pecan Pie Mini-Muffins (recipe on page 140 of Way Back in the Country Garden. These concerned nuts from our pecan trees.) Both items were a hit with guests and in some cases spurred them to take home a copy of the cookbook so they could stir up their own batch of the pastries.

I hope that on Saturday, God granted my mother a spot at the balustrade of heaven so she could peek down on the convivial setting in a venerable Garland building she once thought was beyond the pale. I think the lively scene that symbolized a bright future for the old downtown Garland Square would have made this little Red-Haired Miller Girl very happy.

Harvest Softies

Cookies:

1 cooking apple (such as MacIntosh), peeled and cored

1/2 cup apple juice

1/2 cup (1 stick) butter, softened

1 cup brown sugar

1 egg (we used egg substitute)

1/4 teaspoon cinnamon

2 1/2 cups self-rising flour

Icing:

1 (16-ounce) box powdered sugar (about 4 cups)

1/3 cup apple juice

Line 2 large baking sheets with foil. Lightly spray foil so cookies won't stick. Grate apple into a bowl; add apple juice. In a separate large bowl with a mixer beat butter, sugar, egg, and cinnamon until the mixture is fluffy (about 2 minutes). With a spoon stir in half the flour, the apple mixture, then the remaining flour. Drop batter by tablespoons onto the prepared sheets, with cookies spaced 3-inches apart. Bake cookies at 350 degrees for 17 minutes until cookies are lightly browned. Remove to a rack; cool completely. Repeat. For icing in medium-sized bowl blend sifted powdered sugar and apple juice until smooth and firm enough so icing won't run. Spread icing on top of cookie; leave about 1/4-inch of cookie showing around edge. When icing is firm, store cookies in refrigerator until time to serve.

Cooking just like his mom netted wonderful baked-tomato recipe

What woman alive hasn't been in the spot of needing to learn to prepare some food item "just like Mom"--especially when the Mom you're wanting to emulate happens to belong to your hubby?

Such was the case early in my own married life, when my hubby forever seemed to be extolling his mother's ability to fix Baked Tomatoes (and their related item, Breaded Tomatoes).

Doing something with tomatoes other than simply slicing them for a tossed salad wasn't part of my cooking repertoire. Yet he mentioned this matter often: "I sure would like to have some tomatoes like my mother made."

I am thankful that I was not without resources. During part of my years as a newspaper reporter I was privileged that my office "cubby" adjoined that of Ann Criswell, the legendary and internationally regarded food editor of the Houston Chronicle. Despite her acclaim Ann was as approachable and helpful as the day is long; she heard my plight about being a non-cook of tomatoes and dug through her recipes to help me find something that reasonably sounded as though they were the type of thing on which my husband dined in his youth.

Last evening for our dinner we were blessed with some huge, red tomatoes just plucked from our garden's own tomato vines. Without a second thought I knew what my hubby would suggest if I asked him, "What should we fix with these tomatoes tonight?"

I dug out one of my tomato recipes that Ann Criswell scoured her collection and helped me find. (The companion recipe for Breaded Tomatoes appears in my new cookbook, Way Back in the Country Garden. The secret ingredient for that recipe, by the way, was sugar. My mother-in-law applied more than just a "dash" to any vegetable recipe she prepared. To further emulate her, I'll often add that spoonful of sugar to vegetables just as she did, except I make sure it's sugar substitute.)

My recipe for Baked Tomatoes that appears below and along with fried zucchini (the first two zucchini from our this-year's vines) served with a little ketchup made a delightful summer meal last night. Fresh back from our 18-hour drive home from Phoenix, we were weary of "road food" and glad to settle down to a meal of just-veggies. The wonderful flavor of the tomatoes with seasoned breading on top made me glad my hubby pressed for me to learn to cook tomatoes "just like Mom."

Baked Tomatoes

4 medium tomatoes

1/4 teaspoon salt (we used salt substitute)

1/8 teaspoon pepper

parmesan cheese

1/2 cup soft bread crumbs, toasted

1/2 teaspoon dried parsley

2 cloves garlic, minced (or 1/2 teaspoon garlic powder)

1/4 teaspoon dried thyme

1/'4 teaspoon dried oregano

2 tablespoons vegetable oil

Cut tomatoes in half horizontally and remove core. Place tomato halves in a lightly greased 11-inch by 7-inch baking dish. Sprinkle salt, pepper, and parmesan over cut surface of each tomato half. Combine next six ingredients and mix well. (If you like extra breading, you may double the ingredients in this part of the recipe). Bake at 350 degrees for 15-18 minutes or until tomatoes are thoroughly heated and bread topping is brown. Makes 8 servings.