Mrs D's Everlasting Coleslaw

Drew grew up on Mazinaw lake in the wilderness near Bon Echo Park. In the summer there was a marina, grocery store, craft shop and take-out restaurant that was about a half mile away by either car, foot or boat. It was run by the Douglas family and walking up for ice cream after dinner was a treat, especially after Drew's niece and nephew were born. Drew's sister worked at the marina in the summers of her youth - years before the arrival of the niece and nephew - and the Douglas family became friends. Mrs Douglas, always known as Mrs D because she was the jovial matriarch of the entire lake's summer population, is also a renowned cook and her coleslaw recipe was a summer staple for Drew's mom.

It is the recipe that Drew's sister made for a dinner during one of Drew's visits and the leftovers that were used in Raul's Spaghetti Squash, Chicken and Coleslaw with Guyanese Chow Mein Noodles but is delicious on its own or as a side. Drew sends his sister an email and she forwards one from Drew's mom promptly.

Makes16 servings - keeps for 8 days in the refrigerator
1 lg cabbage, shredded (Drew's sister substituted red cabbage for more colour)
1 lg Spanish onion, finely shredded
4 carrots, shredded
Combine vegetables in lg bowl
Combine the following and heat to boiling.
Cool. Pour over vegetables.
1/2 c white vinegar
1/2 c b sugar
1/2 c salad oil
1 t salt
1 t dry mustard
Let stand, stirring occasionally for 8 hours.
Store covered in refrigerator.

Like the summer, this coleslaw isn't really 'everlasting' but eight days isn't bad. Raul intends to use it all up well before that deadline so that he can make a batch of his own.

Spaghetti Squash, Chicken and Coleslaw with Guyanese Chow Mein Noodles

There is still more spaghetti squash to be consumed so Raul decides, uncharacteristically, to improvise. He dry rubs two chicken breasts with paprika, Greek oregano, garlic powder, black pepper and salt, and sets them aside. He chops some green onions and carrots, and thaws a handful of frozen chopped vegetables. The chow mein noodles, imported from Guyana, are from the Danforth Variety & Fruit Market and are infused with turmeric for extra oomph. The noodles are boiled and stir-fried with the vegetables while the chicken breasts grill on the bbq. A dash of Nuku Cham (misspelled or mistranslated on the bottle R&D use - it is actually called Nuoc Cham) Vietnamese Salad Sauce in the stir fry, a handful of spaghetti squash for calorie light bulk and a sprinkling of Drew's sister's leftover coleslaw to add some vivid colour and the base is ready for the chicken. Raul chops the chicken into bite-sized pieces and layers on top.

"I wanted to play with different temperatures," says Raul of the way the cool squash and crunchy coleslaw contrast with the hot chow mein which is tasty and bursting with subtle flavour.

"Hmmm," says Drew. "A different explanation from my lukewarm spaghetti squash . . ."

Spaghetti Squash Bread

There is a mountain of spaghetti squash left over from Drew's brave attempt at cooking a main course, and Raul is determined to conquer his baking setbacks, so Raul sets out to make spaghetti squash bread. His banana bread is, usually, perfection itself but he is convinced the oven has it in for him as the last few attempts at cakes have had full flavour but an unusual texture. He begins searching to find a recipe and finds a fun, and similar to R&D's, blog twizzlingwhimsies where Emily in Tucson documents her cooking, thrift store shopping adventures and life in the desert. Off-Broadview is far from a desert but Raul does make a nasty, almost funny, crack comparing the two environments.

Emily's recipe seems simple enough and sounds perfect. Raul makes only minimal adjustments by making only large loaf in a glass Pyrex dish lined with parchment. Using the glass dish meant reducing the temperature by 25 degrees and baking it for an hour and 20 minutes.

Ingredients (for two loaves):
3 cups all-purpose flour
1 tsp salt
1 tsp baking soda
1 tsp baking powder
3 tsp ground cinnamon
3 large eggs
1 cup canola oil
2 cups white sugar
3 tsp vanilla extract
2 cups cooked spaghetti squash

Directions:
Grease and flour two 8 x 4 inch loaf pans. Preheat oven to 350 degrees F.
Mix flour, salt, baking powder, soda, and cinnamon together in a bowl.
Beat eggs, oil, vanilla, and sugar together in a large bowl. Add sifted ingredients to the creamed mixture, and beat well. Stir in the squash until well incorporated. Pour batter into prepared pans.
Bake for 45 to an hour, or until tester inserted in the center comes out clean (it actually took me closer to an hour, but I started checking it at 40 minutes).
Cool in pans on rack for about 20 minutes. Remove bread from pans, and completely cool.
Slice and serve with a pat of butter.

Determined to avoid any texture problems, Raul performs an old-fashioned skewer test (several times) until the skewer comes out completely clean.

The bread is moist and just slightly sweet. It didn't even need butter and was perfect as a snack and even better the next morning. The curse of the recalcitrant oven has been broken!  "I told you that kitchen witch of yours was not powerful enough," says Raul triumphantly. "As soon as I found that traditional Portuguese cock statue at Value Village - that's a just as potent a tradition - I knew it would solve our baking problems." Whether a refinement of Raul's skills or some form of Portuguese/Value Village voodoo, Drew is just relieved that from now on textures will be flawless.

Spaghetti Squash with Roasted Garlic, Basil and Pasta

Drew runs to Food Basics to pick up some basics and notices a precarious pile of delicious looking spaghetti squash. This particular Basics always has acorn and butternut squash but very rarely the spaghetti variety. On impulse he picks one out and adds it to the basics. Raul has spent all day continuing to perfect his oatmeal cookies - Drew, and the dog, would argue that they are already perfect but he is a perfectionist - so Drew decides to cook dinner. How difficult can spaghetti squash be?

Drew pre-heats the oven to 375 degrees and slice two stigmatic slices into the top of the squash to vent the steam and prevent a potential explosion. A thin layer of oil in a glass baking dish keeps the squash from sticking and into the oven it goes. He has soaked the garlic baker (wrapping in tin foil is just as effective but the moist clay does give the cloves an extra softness) for an hour in a dish of water. He slices the head off a clove of garlic and, being careful to pick out any sizable bits of the top portion and use them as well, puts a large chunk of butter on top of the flat surface created. The lid goes on and the garlic joins the squash in the oven where they both bake for an hour. The house fills with a sweet odour but Raul insists it is leftover from the cookies.

At the one hour mark Drew puts water on to boil for the spaghettini. It will be ready in 15 minutes which should be time to assemble the other ingredients. The squash appears soft and ready so Drew slices it in half and begins picking out the seeds. That is his fatal error. Pulling out the seeds is tedious and not an accurate process. Separating the strands is no more fun, however he perseveres and fills a bowl with strands of squash. A slab of butter, the roasted garlic and some black pepper is added and all stirred together. He drains and adds the spaghettini.

Fresh basil leaves - about a loosely packed cup's worth - from the balcony are added, tossed until they begin to wilt and then plated. A sprinkling of Parmesan cheese is the finishing touch. Raul eats his entire bowl and his only complaint is that, "the timing was off. It took so long to separate the squash strands that my meal was only lukewarm." Heading into the kitchen he discovers the source of the problem. "You fed me pulp! There is tons of squash left here." Turns out that Drew could have scooped out all the centre and then crumbled the remains into spaghetti-like strands. Raul takes over and comes up with a mountain of perfectly formed filaments.

"Well we can have squash again tomorrow," enthuses Drew. "It was delicious and the roasted garlic was sweet and tasty."

"And I'll look after the timing," suggests Raul. "Have a cookie."

Huevos Florentine

Raul is back in the Off-Broadview apartment on the Upper East Side with the dog while Drew gets Drew's Mom settled in her winter home. While up north Drew's Mom had heard of a delicious-sounding breakfast dish from a friend. She is eager to try it but there is no real recipe. No real recipe never daunts Drew who proceeds to put one together. "It sounds much like the Huevos Fagiole that I concocted," says Drew. "We'll figure it out. What do you have in the fridge?"

Drew pre-heats a cast iron skillet and gets a mixture of olive oil and a bit of butter (for flavour) bubbling. He chops up a small onion, three large mushrooms and two cloves of garlic. The tosses them in the oil and then lowers the temperature so that the onions will caramelize instead of burning. When the onions have begun to brown he adds six chopped baby tomatoes and waits for the mixture to blend and bubble. Pepper and Mrs Dash are enough seasoning, though that may just be because Drew's Mom does not have any wasabi. He cranks the heat to medium and throws in three large handfuls of baby spinach. As soon as it begins to wilt - spinach cannot cook long before turning bitter - he makes two little nests and drops in eggs. Of course one yolk breaks but visually it is still not quite the omelette it could be with just a quick stir.

Drew manages to plate the Huevos Florentine without breaking the other yolks. He puts ketchup on the table just in case but it turns out not to be necessary. "Delicious," raves Drew's Mom who is a relentless booster of any of Drew's endeavours and would have to fall to the ground choking before admitting that anything he cooks is not extraordinary.

"It is ok," agrees Drew. "We just need to add some green or red pepper next time."

"Or whatever is in the fridge," laughs Drew's Mom. "It's a shame that Raul has missed this. We'll have to make it on your next visit."

Patty-Pan or Flying Saucer Squash

It is time for Drew's Mom to return to civilization from her summer home. R&D trek north to pick her up and to enjoy one last bbq in the wilderness - it is, alas, too cold for a last dip in the lake for 2013. Drew's Mom has been dropping tantalizing hints via email about a mysterious find at the Sharbot Lake Farmers' Market. It is indeed a jaw-dropper.

"It looks like a ghost," says Drew. "Perfect for Halloween!"

"It is a very pale Blinky, Pinky, Inky or Clyde," laughs Raul. "What kind of whatever is it? And how do we cook it?"

"According to the woman at the market it is a 'patty-pan zucchini,'" explains Drew's Mom. "I've never seen anything like it. She said to just rub it with olive oil and put it on the grill. She said to bake it for 20 minutes and then let it cool a bit so that the rind hardens again. Then you slice it in half and put on butter, salt and pepper. I think it sounds . . . delicious."

Without a concrete recipe or even identification of what sort of vegetable, animal or mineral this pale blob is, Raul is skeptical. Drew searches online and discovers that it is also called "flying saucer squash" and that there are many ways to cook it. A nutty flavour is promised and as all three are fans of squash, the saucer's fate is sealed. And the decision, two to one, is made to follow the farmer market vendor's instructions, "Vague as they are," mutters Raul under his breath.

Drew slathers the spooky squash with olive oil and hands it over to Raul who hesitantly transfers it to the grill.

When the milky white colour is striated with grill marks the squash is suddenly much less alien and much more appetizing. Raul times carefully but there is really no way to know if the squash is done or not other than guesswork. Raul pokes it with his finger and the skin gives a little. He shrugs, "I think it's done."

Drew takes the squash and covers it with an inverted glass bowl so that the heat and moisture are preserved. While the corn and pork loin are bbq'ing the squash steams. "ETA?" asks Drew who is grateful to have a mission.

"About five minutes," says Raul.

Drew takes a large knife and cleanly slices the saucer top off. There are, thankfully, no little green corpses but there are some unexpected seeds. Drew cleans out the seeds and membranes which fortuitously leaves little pockets for the butter. A few solid slabs of butter, a dash of salt and a few hefty grinds of black pepper and Drew judges the alien dish as fit for human consumption.

The lid does not really go back on in a way that is visually appealing so Raul cuts the squash into smaller pieces and everyone digs in. The flavour is extremely mild and the nuttiness is more like a hint or an accent.

"Is it cooked enough," asks Drew. "It's more vegetably and less squashy."

"I can put it on for a few more minutes," offers Raul.

"No," says Drew, "I think I like this texture. It is just a little bland."

"It would be perfect if baked with a tomato sauce," remarks Drew's Mom who is already scheming and planning. "It would be so entertaining to make one for your nephew."

"Or even better use a pesto," suggests Drew, "he'd love to cut into aliens."

"I just might," says Drew's Mom.

BBQ Pork Loin with Green Pea Pesto Shells

The night before Raul sets a pork loin from the packed freezer out to thaw. Early the next morning Raul rubs the loin with Chinese Five Spice, garlic powder, paprika and pepper. It marinates all day. Come bbq time Raul is trying to decide on vegetable accompaniments and, as there is a massive amount of basil on the balcony, "What do you think of pesto?"

"Sounds delicious," says Drew.

"What kind of pasta? Penne? Shells?"

"Or fusilli," suggests Drew. "Something with lots of surfaces for the pesto to cling to."

"Linguine it is," announces Raul. "Damn. We don't seem to have any linguine."

"That's bizarre," says Drew smugly. "There is an entire cupboard full of pasta of every shape, size and variety known to man. There's even some coloured outer space pasta left from last Halloween. Let's compromise on shells." The vegetable question has yet to be addressed but Drew has a brilliant idea. "How about frozen peas and corn mixed into the pesto?"

"Corn?"

"Corn. Don't you like corn?"

"Yes but the colours will be off," explains Raul. "We do also eat with our eyes."

Peas alone it is.

Raul picks a huge handful - about a cup when packed - of basil. After washing thoroughly and patting dry he puts it into the mini-processor. He adds a half cup of cashews, a teaspoon of chopped garlic, a dribble of olive oil, two tablespoons of Parmesan cheese and - in a stroke of brilliance to rival the original suggestion - a half cup of frozen peas. All is blended into a vividly green paste. He tosses the pasta shells with the pesto and spoons the results onto plates beside the bbq'ed pork. It is indeed a visual feast.

"Eat now," warns Raul. "The peas were cold so the pesto and pasta are already lukewarm. Next time I'll thaw them first. I still want them raw for all the nutrients."

Lukewarm maybe but bursting with flavour. "The last pork loin was sort of sweet," remarks Drew, "but this one has a simple spicy taste that enhances the meat and balances perfectly with the rich pesto. My eyes and taste buds are delighted!"