Growing up, we did not have store-bought syrups in the house. Dad made syrup on the top of the stove with a few basic ingredients that were always at hand. I can picture him now, kitchen towel draped over one shoulder, a small Revere Ware copper bottom pot on the burner, and a wooden spoon in his thick hand. The smell was incredible, distinct and inviting. It meant big stacks of pancakes were soon to follow. Mind you, I could be wrong, but I think he might use that same pan all these years later when he makes his simple Maple Flavored Syrup. The recipe Dad uses can be found on the bottle of Crescent Food’s Mapleine. While the imitation Maple flavoring has been around since 1908, the recipe became popular during the Great Depression – when Dad was a very young boy. It was the syrup he knew from his childhood, the syrup he passed on to his children as part of their childhood.
Fast forward from Dad’s country kitchen to my own kitchen in the first home Hubby and I owned. Hubby had never had “home-made” syrup for his pancakes, waffles and French Toast until he met me. One taste, and he was hooked. For the longest time, we didn’t buy syrup – I made a batch of Mapleine syrup whenever the need arose. This was back in the day when neighbors were friendly with one another, and “borrowed” things like a cup of sugar. One morning there was a knock on our door. A young girl who lived across the street was standing on our porch. Her mother had sent her on an errand.
“We’re making pancakes and mom forgot to get syrup. Do you have some we could borrow?” She asked.
“Unfortunately, I don’t.” I answered. “We make our own.”
The girl stood there for a moment, digesting what I had just told her. “Can you make us some?”
I asked her to come back in about twenty minutes. She did, and they loved Dad’s easy to make syrup.
I haven’t made Dad’s syrup in a while. I’ve been wanting to, and have even looked at a few markets for an old-fashioned syrup dispenser, but no luck. I’ve looked at the new ones, and can tell in an instant a few uses and that tab that slides back and forth on the top is going to break. Maybe next time I’m in my favorite restaurant supply store, I might just need to take a look at a commercial grade syrup dispenser. When Kiddo was a little Kiddo, he loved this syrup recipe. I’m not sure he remembers it today – and that would be sad.
Mapleine Flavored Maple Syrup
2 Tablespoons water
¼ cup sugar
1 ½ cups light corn syrup
½ Tablespoons Mapleine Immigration Maple Flavoring
Combine all ingredients in a sauce pan over medium heat.
Stirring constantly, heat until sugar dissolves and syrup just begins to boil. Cook at a low rolling boil for 2 minutes.
Remove from heat. Syrup will thicken as it cools. Store any unused syrup in the refrigerator and reheat over low heat when ready to use again.
Note: Crescent Mapleine still exists, in the same trademark blue packaging, now a part of McCormick Foods.
When Kiddo was younger, he was fascinated by all things “volcanic”, and a molten cake was right up his alley of favorite desserts. Kiddo is a walking encyclopedia when it comes to volcanoes. We even took a trip to Hawaii a while back just so that Kiddo could explore a lava tube and take a helicopter ride over an active volcano. Wow – it was something! Especially when the lava met the sea. When Kiddo was a really little Kiddo, he got a book all about Hawaiian volcanoes and learned that during one of the eruptions, an entire town was swallowed by the slow-moving flow. He was so upset by the prospect of children loosing everything that he wanted to donate all his toys to the children of Hawaii. Gotta love that kid, he has so much heart!
Although this particular recipe didn’t originate in Genoa, the birthplace of Christopher Columbus, the Genoa influence is unmistakable. It is as colorful as the city itself. This hilly Italian community with breathtaking views of the Italian northwest coastline, is also a window into authentic Italian life. The city’s narrow streets are crammed with family-run restaurants featuring local fresh seafood and the region’s famous specialty: pesto. Without question, pesto is one of the easiest things to make, so be sure to create fresh pesto for this wonderful stuffed pork roast.
This is one of those times when canned ingredients are the only way to go. After all, unless you are growing your own jalapeño peppers, have a means to smoke-dry those peppers, you won’t find whole chipotle chilies in the produce aisle of your grocery store. A chipotle is not a type of chili pepper but rather a smoke-dried jalapeño. Typically, a grower passes through a jalapeño field many times, picking the unripe, green jalapeños for market. At the end of the growing season, jalapeños naturally ripen and turn bright red. In Mexico and the United States, there is a market for ripe red jalapeños. They are kept on the bush as long as possible. When they are deep red and have lost much of their moisture, they are picked to be made into chipotles.
First of all, let’s start with the bread. Whenever making a BLT, I like using Oroweat Italian Bread. There’s just something about this particular brand of sandwich bread that works well with BLTs. The flavor of the bread is nice, the texture good and the bread stands up well without mushing or falling apart. If toasting, it toasts very nicely, all golden and beautiful.
Next, the tomato. Bright red, ripe yet firm. I love beefsteak tomatoes when I can get them at the farmer’s market. Splurge a little, and go for the beautiful organic variety. After all, the tomato is the T – an important element in a BLT. One of the most beautiful of the beefsteak variety are the Watermelon Beefsteak. Now that is what a tomato of this size should look like – all bright and beautiful. These bad boys can weigh as much as a couple of pounds per tomato. While rare, if ever in the grocery store; sometimes the Watermelon variety can be found in a farmer’s market. Heirloom tomatoes are also good, packed with that old-time real tomato flavor.
Lettuce, lettuce – I love lettuce. In our house, we often keep two heads of lettuce in the crisper – sort of a his and hers if you will. For me, green leaf or red leaf lettuce is a must. I like the “leafy-ness” (if that’s even a word) of leaf lettuce. For Hubby, Iceberg lettuce is his go-to for salads, sandwiches and what have you. He likes the crunch of iceberg on his sandwiches. While the Iceberg lettuce shreds up nicely for tacos, personally I think Iceberg lettuce lacks color, flavor and general “curb appeal”. Hubby has gotten much better, allowing Leaf Lettuce as the L in our BLT.
Finally, the bacon. After all, you can’t make a BLT without the B – it’s the heart and soul of your sandwich. For us, nothing beats smoke-cured bacon – hickory or apple wood are at the top of the list. Bacon must have a nice blend of fat to meat. Too much fat and it will shrivel up in the pan – all the makings of bacon drippings but not much left for eating. Since we are going to weave the bacon, it shouldn’t be extra-thick. A thick slice will do. (Gosh, I can remember the day when what we call today “thick” was a regular slice of bacon. That paper-thin stuff sold as sliced bacon was unheard of). For BLTs, I prefer the salty flavor of cured bacon. The most common bacon sold in the United States comes from the belly cuts.
Oh, I almost forgot – the mayo! Confession time – when it comes to mayo, I am very much brand-loyal. Hellmann’s for those east of the Rockies; Best Foods in my neck of the woods. Richard Hellmann, an immigrant from Germany, married the daughter of delicatessen owners. Together, they opened their own delicatessen in 1905, where Richard perfected his “real mayonnaise” for his customers. His mayonnaise became so popular that he began selling it to other New York delis, and the rest as they say is history.
Looking back on my childhood, there were certain foods that were reserved for “special” occasions, and never, ever found their way to the table unless the occasion commanded their appearance. Butter – real butter, was not an everyday spread. Asparagus only made an appearance alongside our Easter Ham. Even simple things such as dinner rolls were considered special. Split-Top Brown-n-Serve dinner rolls were never served with Tuesday night’s pot roast. (Although slices of bread were almost always passed around the table). You get the idea. Anything “pricey” or extraordinary was reserved for special guests, special times and special celebrations.
Growing up, Le Sueur Canned Peas were special, appearing at our table only on the very best of special occasions. As far as canned vegetables go, they rank right up there in the “pricey” category. I suppose that is why we only had them on special occasions – and why to this very day I equate Le Sueur Early June Peas with holiday dinners, and special gatherings. Everything about them scream “top notch” – from the fancy silver label to the wonderful, delicate sweetness inside. My mother served these wonderful peas “as is” with just a pat of butter on top. Oh how I adored watching the butter melt and disappear into the tender, sweet peas.
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