Forest Street Kitchen

In my family of origin, Christmas breakfast usually involved something called a Big Dutch Baby, which is sort of like a big popover (or Yorkshire pudding) with preserves on it. Everyone got a big chunk of the golden, lumpy, buttery stuff and could embellish it with whatever preserves we had on the table, or fresh strawberries with sugar or (my personal favorite) scalloped apples. I know that there are people who put canned fruit pie filling on their Dutch Baby, but this is a choice I cannot condone. I do not put it in pies, and I don’t want it on my Baby.

The very fact that this dish was good enough to tear us away from freshly opened gifts when we were kids says it all. We sat at the table with our plates on the special-once-a-year felt Christmas place-mats I made with Grammie Graham when I was four. I have to admit that I was always bothered by the name of the dish (had they, at one time, cooked babies in big pans in Holland and eaten then for holiday breakfasts?) but not so bothered that I ever failed to worship and then inhale my portion.

I cannot locate my mother’s original recipe; it may simply have disappeared beneath twenty years’ worth of butter spots and become one with the counter. I have, however, located a recipe that she assures me is one and the same. This recipe gives different amounts of the basic ingredients depending on the size of your pan, but I will tell you now, that unless you are cooking in an E-Z Bake for America’s Next Low-Carb Poster Child, you will want to make the largest possible amount. Buy some really, really good preserves or sautee some apples in butter, sugar and cinnamon as a topping. Maybe some fresh juice and a rasher of bacon or sausage, and you will have a show-stopping Christmas breakfast. Or, just a really great Sunday morning.

BIG DUTCH BABIES

(Adapted from Cooks.com)

FOR 2 TO 3 QUART PAN:

1/4 c. butter
3 eggs
3/4 c. milk
3/4 c. flour

FOR 3 TO 4 QUART PAN:

1/3 c. butter
4 eggs
1 c. milk
1 c. flour

FOR 4 TO 4 1/2 QUART PAN:

1/2 c. butter
5 eggs
1 1/4 c. milk
1 1/4 c. flour

FOR 4 1/2 TO 5 QUART PAN:

1/2 c. butter
6 eggs
1 1/2 c. milk
1 1/2 c. flour

Select the recipe proportions to fit your pan, and get out the ingredients you will need.

Put the butter in the pan and set it into a 425 degree oven after first dusting the pan with nutmeg, then mix batter quickly while butter melts. Put eggs in blender container and whirl at high speed for 1 minute. With motor running, gradually pour in milk, then slowly add flour; continue whirling for 30 seconds.

(With a rotary beater, beat eggs until light and lemon colored; gradually beat in milk, then flour.)

Remove pan from oven with the butter melted and pour batter into the hot melted butter. Return the pan to the oven and bake until puffy and well browned, 20 to 25 minutes.

I am at something of a disadvantage here, because I like to refer to a book when I am writing about it, and I borrowed Russ Parson’s How to Pick a Peach from the library. I will, therefore, be going largely on memory.

Parsons is a journalist who has been covering the food beat for many, many years, and he is a fine writer and a thoughtful human being. The book is divided into seasons, and in each of the four sections he addresses fruits and vegetables that are actually  in season during that part of the year, sometimes by the specific month. He explains the growth cycle and natural growing location of each type of produce, and how to pick, preserve and prepare good specimens; he also provides a “simple” preparation for most of the types of produce discussed as well as several more complicated recipes.

Between these food-specific chapters are valuable information about the history of “moving” food far from where it is originally produced, and how it is that we are now able to have certain foods available to us all year round even if they are not actually in season anywhere in the United States. I learned fascinating facts about diminishing species of corn, how new breeds of fruit are created (hint: the folks who begin such projects tend to be dead by the time they’re finished) and the lack of profitability in growing the perfect, delicious tiny strawberries we find in the wild.

My favorite thing about Parson’s book is that, unlike many strident and judgmental “localvore” books and articles, Parsons is really never judgmental about choosing to eat produce that is not local, or seasonal. He tells us what will taste best (if it still exists), and in a couple of cases, if I remember correctly, what tastes best may come from overseas. Since I live in a climate where there is no locally grown fruit and very few vegetables at this time of year, it is heartening to come away from a book like this not feeling that I am a slacker and a failure because I didn’t spend my summer “putting up” nature’s bounty. I learned to think carefully about what I buy, and about the effect it has on local growers and the environment, but I also learned that it will not (literally) be the end of the world if I buy imported bananas and citrus in the winter, as long as I’m moving in the general direction of eating locally whenever I can.

For some reason, I tended to enjoy Mr. Parson’s “simple preparations” more than his more involved recipes. I’m not sure why that was, but I think the recipes may have involved ingredients or preparations that were too sophisticated for my little family. I heartily recommend this book, and that recommendation is supported by hearing Mr. Parson’s from time to time on “The Splendid Table” on American Public Radio. He sounds, and writes, like a kind, smart ally in an increasingly complicated world of food ethics.