Meat and Tater Pie

Well, folks, I’m into week four without a kitchen, thanks to mother’s “hurt” back. (It didn’t stop her from going to polka the other night.) But I had a brilliant idea. Why not borrow a friend’s kitchen? The only problem was finding a friend. It took me a while (and a lot of money) but I finally met a fellow caker who was willing to let me use his oven to make this Meat and Tater Pie.

This recipe comes from Pie Fare from Paris Fair. Now before you grab your beret and paint a moustache on with eyebrow pencil, that’s Paris, Ontario, not Paris, France. Talk about having an inferiority complex! Why would you set yourself up for that kind of fall? Ontario is weird, though. After all, this is the province of Paris, London, Stratford and Swastika.

Anyways, Meat and Tater Pie was delicious. In fact, my new friend (I think his name was Randy Andy) said the crunchy corn flake topping was the best part. It did get a little greasy on the bottom (I could only afford regular ground beef) so you might want to drain it before serving it up. Or sop up the grease with Wonder Bread.

As soon as we were done, Randy Andy told me I had to leave. He had someone else coming over to use his bedroom. Looks like I’m in the wrong business! LOL!

1 pound ground beef
1/3 cup milk
1 tablespoon mustard
½ cup crushed corn flakes
Combine: press mixture on bottom and sides of a 9” pie plate.

2 eggs
2 cups mashed potatoes (see note 1)
¼ cup chopped onion (see note 2)
2 teaspoons parsley flakes

Beat eggs; add remaining ingredients: spread in meat shell. Place plate on baking sheet. Bake 350 F – 35 minutes.

½ cup crushed corn flakes
2 tablespoons melted butter
grated cheddar cheese (enough to cover top of pie)

When pie has cooked 35 minutes, top with the grated cheese, then corn flake/butter mixture. Return to oven to bake 10 minutes until cheese melts.

Note 1: I used instant potatoes. Of course. But they were a little runny.
Note 2: Randy Andy said he would've sauteed the onions first as they were a little crunchy.

Source: Pie Fare from Paris Fair, Paris, Ontario

Reader Recipe: Glamourous Chicken

Hark! Do you hear the quieting down of gastrointestinal tracts across the land? That can only mean one thing. We’ve officially reached the end of Caker Cooking’s Reader Recipe Month!

What better way to wrap up the festivities than by tossing in some old school Bette-Davis-we-loved-you caker pizzazz? Reader Sara got the recipe for Glamourous Chicken from one of her nana’s church cookbooks.

I can only assume that Nana went to the Church of Hollywood because Glamourous Chicken really does live up to its name! Who cares if it’s the colour of wet concrete? The important thing is the taste and dang if this didn’t make for a moist bird. (Although the rice was a little greasy. Cooking in chicken fat might have something to do with that.)

Can’t you just picture Joan Collins eating this while riding around in her limousine, tossing wings and drumsticks at poor people?

“Eat, my destitute darlings!” she’d cry in her sophisticated British accent, rhinestone earrings shimmering in the late afternoon sunlight on Sunset Boulevard. “Eat like me!”

The one thing not glamourous about this dish? Cleaning up.

Thanks, Sara! And thanks to all of you for submitting recipes. I’m sorry I didn’t get to all of them, but rest assured, your recipe might appear very soon on the pages of this blog.


2/3 cup regular uncooked rice (see note 1)
1 package Lipton dry onion soup
1 chicken, cut into pieces
1 can cream of mushroom soup

Grease a Pyrex dish, 7 x 11 inches, and pour uncooked rice on bottom.  Sprinkle dry onion soup on rice.  Place chicken pieces on top.  Mix 1 can of water with mushroom soup; pour over top of ingredients.  Cover and bake 1 ¼ hours at 350 degrees; lift chicken at times to spread juice. (see note 2)

Note 1: Cakers, this calls for regular rice, not Minute Rice. Regular rice doesn’t come in a box and takes longer than five minutes to cook. Weird, right?

Note 2: Is it me or does the phrase “spread juice” seem dirty? Never mind. It's probably me.

Source: Caker Sara via her caker nana

Reader Recipe: Fondue Italiano

Bunjourno! Tutti a tavola a mangiare! (That means “Hello and welcome to the final week of Caker Cooking’s Reader Recipe Month!") As you might have guessed, I’m pretty fluent in Eyetalian thanks to the trip I took to It-lee at the beginning of the summer.

There are so many things I miss about It-lee. The hand gesturing, the life-or-death thrill of crossing the street, disco dancing with singing sensation Raffaella Carra. So I was over the moon when Jennifer sent me the recipe for Fondue Italiano from her copy of Better Homes and Gardens Fondue and Tabletop Cooking.

Having said that, I have mixed feelings about fondues. For starters, you need company. So strike one for me. And secondly, they can be dangerous. I once had a fondue pot explode! Luckily, it was full of melted chocolate at the time. There are many worser things to pick out of your hair for three days straight.

For those reasons, Mother’s forbidden me to own a fondue pot, so I had to improvise and use a bowl. Be careful when spearing your breadcubes! Mother almost poked my eye out with her chopstick. We really enjoyed the fondue. It was cheesy and meaty and both of us got a little giddy, thanks to the wine. Then we fell asleep before Lawrence Welk came on.

WARNING: This has, like, a lot of cheese. Don’t be surprised if, the next morning, your neighbour asks when you started taking trumpet lessons. I’m speaking from experience.

Thanks, Jennifer! Come back Friday for another reader recipe. We're nearing the end. Hang in there.

½ pound ground beef
½ envelope spaghetti sauce mix
1 15-ounce can tomato sauce
12 ounces natural Cheddar cheese, shredded (3 cups) (See note 1)
4 ounces natural Mozarella cheese, shredded (1 cup) (See note 2)
1 tablespoon cornstarch
½ cup chianti (see note 3)
Italian bread, cut into bite-size pieces, each with one crust

In saucepan, brown ground beef; drain off excess fat. Stir in spaghetti sauce mix and tomato sauce. Add cheeses gradually; stir over low heat till cheese is melted. Blend together cornstarch and wine; add to cheese mixture. Cook and stir till thickened and bubbly. Transfer to fondue put; place over fondue burner. Spear bread cube with fondue fork; dip in fondue mixture, swirling to coat. (If fondue becomes thick, add a little warmed chianti.) Makes about 6 servings.

Note 1: As opposed to unnatural Cheddar
Note 2: As opposed to unnatural Mozarella
Note 3: Chianti is an Eyetalian wine. It’s pronounced “Chee-Anty.”

Source: Caker Jennifer via Better Homes and Gardens Fondue and Tabletop Cooking

Reader Recipe: Bierocks

Welcome to the second thrilling week of Caker Cooking’s Reader Recipe Month!

I grew up in a border city which pretty much scarred me for life. The main reason being was that I was forced to watch commercials for all the amazing things I couldn’t get in Canada. No doubt the neighbours heard the wailing whenever a White Castle commercial came on.

Today’s recipe comes from Patrick, who grew up in Minnesota, home of the hotdish and hot beef commercials. This is his mom’s recipe for bierocks. I’d never heard of bierocks and got pretty excited, thinking that beer and rocks might be involved. Turns out bierocks are like meat turnovers.

Patrick’s recipe calls for Pillsbury Grands biscuit dough. I went to two grocery stores and a Wal-Mart, but the only Grands I could find were the cinnamon bun kind. I’m assuming those weren’t an option, but folks in Minnesota may be freakier than I’ve been led to believe. In any case, I don’t think Pillsbury Grands biscuits are available in Canada. So I opted for Pillsbury pizza dough.

Patrick, if I’m ever stateside, I’m heading straight to Winn-Dixie (after a pitstop at White Castle), filling up the trunk of my Chevette with tubes of Grands biscuits, heading back to Canada and making bierocks the way they were goddamn meant to be made.

Having said that, the pizza dough was easy to work with. And the bierocks were tasty as heck. And ball-shaped. Kinda like a Pizza Pocket. Only with sauerkraut. And, uh, not the pizza part.

Thanks, Patrick! Don’t forget to come back Friday for another reader recipe.

1 lb ground beef or mild sausage
1 can saurkraut
Some diced onions and diced bell peppers
1 tube Grands biscuit dough

Fry the meat with the onions and peppers. When cooked, drain grease and then mix in saurkraut. Set aside.

Pop open the biscuit dough and, using some flour and a rolling pin, flatten out the biscuit, flipping and flouring so that it doesn't stick to the rolling pin. Spoon some filling into the centre of the dough. Fold the dough over, making a ball (pouch). Place fold side down onto cookie sheet. Repeat until all dough or filling is used up, whichever comes first.

Bake for however long the biscuit dough tube tells you. When done, spread some butter on ‘em and enjoy!

Source: Caker Patrick via his mom

Lasagna

Bun-jurno! Welcome to a special Italiano edition of Caker Cooking, sponsored by Ragù. (Okay, maybe not, but a caker can dream.)

In one week, I leave for Italy! (Or, as my mom calls it, “It-lee.”) This is a pretty big deal for someone who wasn’t allowed to cross the street until high school graduation. I’ll be travelling with all my in-laws. That’s 11 Italians. For 14 days. Something tells me I may need earplugs.

As most of you know, it was the Italians who called us “cakers” in the first place. And while that term isn’t exactly complimentary, a caker never holds a grudge. So I’m making this lasagna and bringing it to share with the people of Italy. (So long as the flight crew doesn’t get to it first. LOL!)

Caker lasagna is very similar to traditional Italian lasagna, only it has cottage cheese. And garlic powder. And, uh, tomato soup. And, well, canned mushrooms. But aside from that, pretty identical. I made this lasagna for my Italian better half and while he was “schkeeved” at first, who do you think went back for a second helping? (Leaving a trail of Pino Silvestre behind him, I might add.) Then I took some to my mom and she said it was the best lasagna she ever tasted! Not that she has the highest standards. Anyways, it's good.

Next week is the first-ever Pieathalon! A bunch of food bloggers got together and exchanged pie recipes. What did I get stuck with? Alls I’ll say is, “Check, mate.”

In closing, I have a few words I’d like to say to the people of Italy. I’ve asked my Italian partner to translate.

"Dear people of Italy, I hope you enjoy this lasagna. I love your food, especially Pizza Hut pizza. I’m looking forward to visiting the childhood home of one of my idols, Chef Boyardee. See you soon."

Translation:
"Gente d'Italia, correte!!! Vi raccomando di non mangiare questa lasagna di mangia-cake!!! Questi mangia-cake hanno massacrato la nostra cultura!!! Non posso continuare a mangiare questo cibo!!! Aiuto!!!"

1 pound ground beef
1 chopped onion
3 teaspoons garlic powder
1 tablespoon oregano
1 can tomato soup
1 can tomato paste
½ cup water
2 cups cottage cheese
2 eggs, beaten
9 lasagna noodles, cooked and drained (see note 1)
8 ounces mozzarella
1/3 cup parmesan cheese

Heat oven to 350°. Fry beef, onion and spices. Drain. Add soup, paste and water. (See note 2) Boil and reduce heat. Simmer 30 minutes. Stir. Combine cottage cheese and eggs. Add to meat mixture. Arrange 3 alternate layers of noodles, meat mixture, mozzarella cheese, noodles, etc. Bake for 45 minutes. Let stand 15 minutes before serving.

Note 1: I’m sorry, but 9 noodles didn’t cut it. I did 4 layers of 4 noodles. So 16 in total. I think. I failed math. Just use the whole box. Remember to save some sauce to spread on the top layer. I used no-boil noodles (of course) but the top layer got dried-out. You might want to consider using the boil kind. Also, try reserving some of the sauce to put on the top layer of noodles.

Note 2: For nutritional reasons, my mom always added canned mushrooms to her lasagna, so I did the same at this point.

Source: This recipe book doesn’t have a cover, but I think it’s by Eatons employees.

Salmon Loaf

Behold! I give you the glorious tapestry known as Salmon Loaf!

Okay, it’s not the most attractive thing in the world. But need I remind you how disgusting salmon looks when it comes out of the can? There are all those slithery grey bits of skin and bones sticking out and sometimes, depending on how much the salmon canner was slacking off, you’ll find a lone salmon eye staring back at you.

Cakers love salmon. (It comes in a can, after all.) But we usually stick to pink salmon. It’s the paler, cheaper cousin of sockeye. We mainly use it in salmon sandwiches (pronounced "sammin sammitches") made with white, buttered bread. My great-grandmother survived on salmon sandwiches and she lived to be almost 100. Of course, her house probably smelled like Captain Highliner’s beard.

This recipe called for a 8” x 12” pan, which I used. But I was a little disappointed that I didn’t opt for my loaf pan. After all, if you’re going to call something a loaf, it should look like a loaf. What you’re looking at here could easily be called Salmon Squares. And without a sprinkling of shredded coconut on top, that just seems wrong.

Looks aside, this salmon loaf tasted great. Just watch for bones. And eyes.

1 large can salmon (see note 1)
2 cups crushed soda crackers
1 ½ cups milk
2 eggs beaten
1 tablespoon sugar
1 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon mustard
¼ cup melted butter
1 tablespoon vinegar

Mix all ingredients together. Press into cooking dish approx. 8” x 12.” Can be served hot or cold. Cook at 350 deg. for 1 hr. Put salmon can in oven with water to keep salmon loaf moist. (see note 2)

Note 1: You can usually find the larger cans, but if not, I'd use two regular-sized cans. Or maybe three?
Note 2: I was going to do this, but then got freaked out thinking about the fumes from the label glue. So I put water in another baking dish and set it next to the loaf.

Source: Happiness is Cooking with Lockhart School, Newcastle, Ontario

Q & A with The Caker Queen

I know that some of you may doubt my stories about growing up in a caker household. Did my mom really give us brown well water with Alka Seltzer instead of soda pop? Was she really addicted to Shreddies? Inquiring minds want to know, so I sat down with my mom (a.k.a. The Caker Queen) and asked her some questions. I also got her to share a favourite recipe.

Caker Brian: What is the name of my blog?
Caker Queen: (lengthy pause) Crater.

CB: Is it true you were addicted to Shreddies?
CQ: Yes, I was addicted. When I get on to something, I eat it all the time. I don’t eat Shreddies anymore, though. I eat Cheerios now, along with some of that grain cereal to make everything solid [Don’t ask what she means. Trust me, you don’t want to know. – Ed] Every morning, I have Cheerios with the grain cereal, blueberries, a banana, an orange juice and a coffee. That’s my breakfast everyday.

CB: Is it true that we were so poor growing up that instead of soda pop, you gave us brown well water with Alka Seltzer?
CQ: Oh, Brian. No. God almighty. No. Jeez. Take that off there.

CB: What would you consider your signature dish?
CQ: (sigh) Like a casserole, maybe. Well, the one that you like. That one with macaroni and ground beef, tomato soup and onion. I don’t know what it’s called. [None of her casseroles have actual names. They all begin with “That one with…”– Ed]

CB: Is there a recipe you’d like to share with fellow cakers?
CQ: Maybe my stew. Cut some stewing beef in small pieces, put it on the bottom of a casserole, add some carrots, potatoes, onion and celery. Pour over a couple cans of V-8. It takes a long time. 250° for four hours. You can throw in anything you want. Serve it with bread or a salad. V-8 has lots of spices, so you don’t need to add anything else.

I made this as per my mom’s instructions. It tasted pretty good but was kind of watery. When I told her this, we had the following exchange:

“I’m sorry. I forgot to tell you to add that thing.”
“What thing?”
“Oh, dear. What’s it’s called?”
“Corn starch?”
“No, not that.”
“Flour?”
“Not, not flour. Jeez, why can’t I remember it?”
“Plaster of Paris?”
“Tapioca! Sprinkle two or three teaspoons on top.”

Source: The Caker Queen

Sloppy Joes

Living in this fast-paced modern world is challenging for most cakers. Why, just yesterday, I had to return my VHS copy of On Golden Pond to the video store. Then I had to go the Regis Salon at the mall to get my tips frosted. Then I had to go to bowling. All this before 5pm! The last thing I had time for when I got home was forming beef patties.

Thank god for Sloppy Joes. You get all the goodness of a hamburger with a fraction of the effort. Even the condiments are included in the mixture! Just remember to tie a tea towel around your neck. They don’t call them "sloppy" for no reason. I’ve got the stained coveralls to prove it.

These call for Campbell’s Chicken Gumbo soup, which may take some cakers out of their Cream-of-Mushroom comfort zones. But there’s a world of condensed soups out there, just waiting to be added to ground meat. As Proust said: The only real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes but in having new eyes.

1 pound ground beef
1 tablespoon chopped onions
1 can chicken gumbo soup
2 tablespoons mustard
2 tablespoons chopped celery
2 tablespoons relish
2 tablespoons ketchup
Mushrooms (optional)

Brown ground beef and onion in fry pan. Add remaining ingredients. Serve on toasted hamburger buns.

Source: St. Luke’s United Church Cookbook

Fish Fillets Noord Zee

Recently, I was approached by Jenny from Silver Screen Suppers to participate in a Vincent Price cook-a-long with other food bloggers from around the world. Turns out that Vincent was also a gourmet cook. (This makes him more scary in my eyes.) Mother thought it was a good way for me to make friends, so I said yes.

Folks, I’ve seen a lot of frightening recipes in my day, but none as terrifying as the one Jenny sent me. The recipe called for “plaice fish” (Where do I find that? Aquarium World?), something called a “fluted tube” (sounds painful) and FOUR cockadoodle frying pans! To make matters worse, I had to whip this up on Halloween night. Have you met the kids in my area? Trust me, they don’t take kindly to waiting.

Anyways, I did what any caker would do and simplified, simplified, simplified. Here’s Vincent’s recipe, followed by my cakerified version. Which is better? I'll leave that in your capable hands, dear reader.

Vincent's recipe
Cook 4 medium potatoes in salted water until very tender. Drain and mash. Beat in 3 tablespoons butter and enough hot cream to make fluffy potatoes that are still stiff enough to be pressed through a fluted pastry tube. Season to taste with salt and pepper. Keep warm over simmering water.

Poach 4 fillets of plaice (about 1 ¼ lb.) in a cup of water with a ½ pint of dry white wine, the juice of one lemon, ½ teaspoon and ¼ teaspoon of white pepper for 5 minutes. Remove fillets and keep warm. Boil liquid over high heat until reduced to a ¼ pint.

Heat 1 tablespoon of butter in each of 4 small frying-pans. In one, sauté 4 oz. of button mushrooms for 5 minutes. In another, 4 oz. shrimp for 5 minutes. In a third, toss 4 oz. herring roes floured for 5 minutes; in the last, cook 4 sliced scallops for 5 minutes.

Fill a forcing bag, fitted with a large fitted tube, with the mashed potatoes and press out fluted ribbon down the centre of a large serving platter. On one side press out 3 ribbons from centre to edge of platter, making 4 evenly divided compartments. Arrange the fillets on the other side in the long compartment. Put platter into a warm oven to keep warm.

Sauce:
In saucepan beat 2 eggs with 1 tablespoon flour and ½ pint cream. Strain ¼ pint of reduced fish liquid into the egg-cream mixture and cook, stirring rapidly, until sauce is hot and slightly thickened. Be careful not to let it boil. Stir in ¼ teaspoon salt, or to taste, and 1 tablespoon lemon juice.

Presentation:
Pour sauce over fish fillets only and garnish with parsley.

MUCH EASIER CAKER VERSION
Take a box of fish sticks and cook according to package directions. Cook instant mashed potatoes according to package directions. Open can of shrimp. Open can of water chestnuts (because who can afford scallops?) Make tapioca (because who can afford herring roes?) Open can of mushrooms.

Put the potatoes in a Ziploc bag with the tip cut off and squeeze it out in some squiggly lines on a platter. Then arrange your mushrooms, shrimps, water chestnuts and tapioca in the compartments. Then add your fish sticks and sprinkle with dried parsley. Eat and ponder what you’re going to do with all your spare time.

What did my fearless fellow food bloggers get up to with their Vincent Price recipe? Check them out:

Jenny of Silver Screen Suppers - Oxtail Creole
Emily of Dinner is Served 1972 – Beef Heart Stewed
Cathy of Battenburg Belle – Deviled Shrimp and Rice
Sally of My Custard Pie – Deviled Rib Bones
Ruth of Mid Century Menu – Unwealthy Wellington
Angela of Glamorous Glutton – Steak Moutarde Flambe
Lauren of The Past on a Plate – Ayrshire Poacher’s Roll
Mimi of The Retro WW Experiment – Chinese Chicken
Carol of Craftypants Carol – Deviled Crab
Erica of Retrorecipe – Cucumber Crocodile and Melon Monster
Susie of Bittersweet Susie – Carolina Deviled Clams
Lisa of Beyond the Fringes – Calf’s Liver Marine
Helen of Zelda’s Secrets – Champignons Grilles Marie Victoire
Saucy Cherie of CookBook Cherie – Liver Risotto

Source: Cooking Price-Wise with Vincent Price

(With all due respect, who's really the wise one here?)

P.S. Bazaar-o-Rama 2013 starts this Friday! Check back for all the crap treasures I found my first weekend.

Corn Ring

Well, here we are – week two of Unfortunately Named Caker Recipe Month. This week’s gem features an ingredient that cakers often refer to as “liquid gold.” That's right, I’m talking creamed corn.

Although most cakers don’t like vegetables, we make an exception for creamed corn. Mainly because it has sugar. It’s also less work to chew since the niblets are all soft and mushy. And, being imaginative people, cakers are also fascinated by the shapes creamed corn makes as it spreads across our dinner plates. ("Look, mother! A goat!")

Although it’s unfortunately named (and ugly as a one-eyed toad), Corn Ring is a dish I’d proudly serve to company at Sunday dinner. If I had Sunday dinners. Or company. It’s basically a moist, oat-laden meatloaf wrapped around a steaming hot lake of creamed corn goodness. And who wouldn’t dive right into that?

Now that I stop to think about it, the corn doesn’t make the “ring.” The ground beef does. The corn makes the hole in the centre. So really, this should be called Corn…uh, never mind. I just realized this dish was about to fall into a new category: Really Unfortunately Named Caker Recipes.

1 ½ pounds ground beef
1 cup uncooked Quaker oats
2 eggs, beaten
1 cup milk
¼ cup chopped onion
2 ½ teaspoons salt
¼ teaspoon pepper
1 teaspoon prepared mustard
1 14 ounce can creamed corn
Combine all ingredients except corn thoroughly. Pack firmly in 1 quart casserole dish. Make a hole in centre and put in corn. Bake at 375° approximately 1 hour. Serves 6.

Source: The Cooking Secrets of First United Church Women, Port Credit, Mississauga

Reader Recipe: Richard O’Sullivan’s Horse Noodles

There’s a lot British people have given us, including the monarchy (I’m not sure whose faces cakers would put on their tea towels otherwise), Marks and Spencer shrimp chips and the sophisticated comedy of Benny Hill.

Speaking of sophisticated, here’s a recipe from UK reader, Jenny, the creator of Silver Screen Suppers, a blog devoted to recipes of the stars, including Vincent Price, Zsa Zsa Gabour, Joan Crawford and many others. When Jenny sent me this recipe for Richard O’Sullivan’s Horse Noodles, I was a little alarmed. I mean, horse meat is expensive. But it turns out there’s no horse. Only horseradish. 

Of all the recipes at his disposal, I’m not sure why Richard chose this one. The dish was okay, but it didn’t put the chime in my Big Ben, if you catch my drift. And the melted cheese left a crust in my saucepan – on top of the crust that was already there.  

But I’m not getting my knickers in a twist. It’s only a laugh, init? The British are the dog’s bollocks in my books. 

Thanks, Jenny!

Boil up a saucepan of water, add a ½ teaspoon of salt. Gradually stir in 3 oz (75g) of noodles. Bring it back to the boil and cook for about 10 minutes. Drain off the water, and stir in any scraps of cooked meat you have (or fried-up bits of bacon). Add half a tin of condensed soup… celery, tomato, whatever you fancy, and 2 oz (50g) grated cheese. Season with salt and pepper, and stir in a ½ tablespoonful of horseradish sauce. Reheat the lot in the saucepan for about 10 minutes and serve. Sensational!

About Richard (in Jenny's words): 

Richard was a star of 1970s TV in the UK and is probably best known for Man About the House where he starred as a chef who lived with two dolly birds. (Editor's note: What the heck is a "dolly bird?")

Here's a snippet of show.

Source: Jenny via Richard O’Sullivan's book, Man About the Kitchen

Reader Recipe: Mademoiselle Cleghorn's Stewing Beef Casserole

We’re into week two of my month-long Caker Cooking reader bonanza and today, we travel to Quebec!

Although I try to be inclusive, there are some provinces that are caker underrepresented on this blog, Quebec being one of them. So I was as happy as Bonhomme when reader Carolyn sent me this recipe. Carolyn’s mom used to be a visiting nurse and was given this recipe by one of her patients. It became known in Carolyn's house as "Mademoiselle Cleghorn's Stewing Beef Casserole." (Can’t you just picture the pom poms on this woman's mules?)

As an added bonus, this recipe calls for golden mushroom soup, not cream of mushroom soup. The difference between the two is that golden mushroom is made from beef stock. It isn’t as easy to find as its grey cousin, but you shouldn’t have too much trouble. Just look for the glow coming from the canned soup aisle.

Speaking of glows, Mademoiselle Cleghorn's Stewing Beef Casserole warmed me right up. Chock full of tender beef and canned mushrooms, it's perfect for those nights when all you want to do is kick up your mules and listen to Mitsou.

Thanks, Carolyn!

3 lbs of stewing beef
1 package of onion soup mix
1 tin of golden mushroom soup
1 tin of button mushrooms
1/2 cup sherry (See note)
No salt or pepper

Oven 325 for 3 hrs.

Note: Cakers are often named Sherry, but they rarely cook with it. If you’ve got some, great. If not, you could probably substitute with some other kind of booze. Just not Blue Curacao.

Source: Carolyn via Carolyn's mom via Mademoiselle Cleghorn

Sweet and Sour Meatballs

In my second instalment of Writers Cooking Caker, I’ve asked first-time novelist Grace O’Connell to step away from her quill and ink jar and into the kitchen. Grace is the author of Magnified World, a haunting and magical story about a young woman coming to terms with her mother's death.

Now, let it be known that cakers love their balls. Already on this blog, I’ve featured Rice Krispies Golf Balls, Porcupine Meatballs, Snowballs and Dancing Mothballs – although in these health-conscious days, most cakers are trying to cut back on their mothball intake.

In this recipe, the best of both worlds – sweet and sour – come together as beautifully as a Barbra and Neil duet.  Best of all, you can pour this sauce over anything: rice, hot dogs, Cool Whip. I even dabbed a little behind my ears.

Here’s Grace’s recipe in her own words:

The meatballs are made with ground beef, egg, breadcrumbs, parmesan cheese, etc. and baked in the oven. Pretty standard. The sweet and sour sauce though, is pure caker:

1/2 cup ketchup (yep, that's the first ingredient for this exotic wonder)
1/2 cup white vinegar
3/4 cup water
2 tablespoons lemon juice (from a lemon-shaped bottle, preferably)
1 cup white sugar (it's what's for dinner)

Combine the above ingredients in a saucepan and bring to a boil. Reduce heat and simmer 2-3 minutes. Dissolve 3 tablespoons cornstarch in 1/4 cup cold water. Stir that mixture into the sauce. Cook gently and stir until thick and clear (It should be kind of goopy, but also smooth. If that makes sense. Viscous? Is that the word?). [Editor’s note: I don’t understand most words over two syllables.]

Pour it over your meatballs, add some Uncle Ben’s rice and you've got a classic caker dinner.

You certainly do, Grace. And your sweet and sour sauce made my eyes roll back in my head. 'Nuf said. Catch Grace and her Writers Cooking Caker alumna, Dani Couture, at Toronto's Word on the Street Festival this Sunday, September 23.

About Magnified World

What's a girl supposed to do after her mother kills herself by walking into the Don River with her pockets full of unpolished zircon stones? Maggie removes the zircon stones from the inventory of the family's New Age shop and opens up for another day of business. Then her blackouts begin, as do the visits from a mysterious customer who offers help for Maggie's blackouts and her project of investigating her mother's past in the American South. Is Maggie breaking down in the way her mother did, or is her "madness" a distinctive show of grief? Nobody really knows, not her father, her boyfriend or her psychiatrist, and especially not Maggie, who has to make some crazy decisions in order to work to feel sane again. A vivid look at the various confusions that can set in after a trauma and an insightful, gently funny portrait of a woman in her early twenties, especially relatable to readers who grew up in the eighties and nineties, Magnified World dramatizes the battle between the head and the heart and the limitations of both in unlocking something as complicated as loss.

More info.

Impossible Taco Pie

By now, I’ve featured two other "impossible" pies on Caker Cooking. The first was Impossible Tuna Pie, which was, in fact, possible, so long as you had a box of Bisquick and a blender. The second was Impossible Pie, which was also possible, so long as you had Bisquick and a blen…Hey. Wait a minute. I think I just made a connection. Give me a few days to think it through.

In the meantime, please enjoy a grande helping of this delicious Impossible Taco Pie. Based on my extensive cookbook research, it seems that cakers love Mexican food more than any other. (See Taco Casserole for further proof.) I’m not sure why. Maybe it’s our passion for iceberg lettuce. Or all things corn. Or that we hang sombreros as décor in our rec rooms. Or maybe it’s simply our revenge on the Italians for labeling us “mangiacakes” in the first place.

Oh, who cares? The bottom line is that this pie is filling, flavourful and goes perfectly when served with a (pre-mixed) margarita. Muchos gracias, Mexico!

1 pound ground beef
½ cup chopped onion
1 envelope taco seasoning mix
1 ¼ cups milk
¾ cup Bisquick baking mix
3 eggs
2 tomatoes sliced (see note)
1 cup shredded old cheddar cheese

Heat oven to 400º. Grease 10 inch quiche pan or large-sized pie plate (10 x 1 ½ inches). Cook and stir beef and onion over medium heat until beef is browned. Drain. Stir in seasoning well. Spread into pan. Beat milk, baking mix and eggs until smooth, 15 seconds in blender on high or 1 minute with hand beater. Pour into plate. Bake for 25 minutes. Sprinkle with cheese. Bake until knife inserted between centre and edge comes out clean, 8 to 10 minutes longer. Cool for 5 minutes. Serve with sour cream, chopped tomatoes and shredded lettuce, if desired.

Note: The recipe doesn’t say what to do with the sliced tomatoes, so I added those when I put the cheese on.

UPDATE: Fellow food blogger, Yinzerella, happened to post her recipe for Impossible Taco Pie the same week as me. But does hers look better than mine? You be the judge. Check it out!

Source: Belleville Shrine Club

Sister Vincentia’s Cheeseburger Meat Loaf

As much as I love making (and eating) caker food, I also love the cookbooks the recipes come from. I recently created a cookbook gallery, along with the recipes I’ve featured from each one. Almost every recipe carries the name of the person who submitted it. Sometimes, on a lonely Saturday night, I wonder about these people. Are they still making their Pineapple Cream Cakes and Spaghetti Pies?

While there isn’t anything remarkable about this Cheeseburger Meat Loaf recipe, it was the name of the contributor that caught my attention: Sister Vincentia. It was the most non-caker name I'd come across. Who was she? What was her story? Then I remembered that, in this modern age, everyone is Googlable. So I came across this and was caught off guard by the sadness you sometimes feel for complete strangers.

I can’t resist renaming this meat loaf in her honour. “Sister Vincentia’s Cheeseburger Meat Loaf” has a way of rolling off the tongue, don't you think? Also, the name Vincentia means “the conqueror.” And let me tell you, she conquered this meat loaf. It’s moist and flavourful with a melted ribbon of cheesy goodness.

Wherever you are, Sister Vincentia, I hope the mashed potatoes are as fluffy as clouds.

2 eggs
½ cup light cream
2 slices stale bread, coarsely crumbled
1 small onion
¼ cup finely chopped celery
¼ chopped green pepper
1 teaspoon salt
½ teaspoon pepper
Dash garlic salt
2 pounds ground beef
3 slices yellow cheese
Tomato sauce or ketchup

Heat over to 350°. Beat eggs in medium mixing bowl. Add cream, beat. Add crumbs to egg mixture. Let set until bread becomes soft. Stir. Add all remaining ingredients except cheese and tomato sauce. Work mixture until well mixed. Place half of mixture into well greased loaf baking dish. Shape and flatten top until even. Lay slices of cheese on surface of loaf. Do not extend over edge. Place remaining meat mixture on top of cheese, shape loaf with hands, sealing edges well. Bake for 50 minutes to 1 hour. Remove from oven. Spread tomato sauce over top. Bake for 20 to 30 minutes longer or until done. Yield 6-8 servings.

Source: Look ‘N Cook, Mothers Auxiliary, 4th Port Hope Brownie Pack, Port Hope

Sue’s Tuna Burgers™

My sister hit a milestone birthday the other day, so I thought it only fitting to post a caker recipe that she invented on her own. Needless to say, I’ve taken the liberty of trade-marking it before the Red Lobster folks realize what a goldmine this recipe is.

One of my fondest memories growing up was coming home from church on a Sunday morning. Yes, I went to church, but it was more about the opportunity to wear a bolo tie. And if Sue had woken up before lunch (which, truthfully, was a bit of rarity), she’d be in her fluffy blue bathrobe and these Tuna Burgers would be toasting away in the oven.

What makes Sue’s Tuna Burgers™ so unique is the sprinkle of oregano on top. How or why she ever did that in the first place is a mystery, probably to Sue herself. But don’t question a chef and her artistry. Just enjoy the fruits – or, in this case, the Cheez Whiz – of her labour.

Happy birthday, Sue. Thanks for those Sunday morning memories.

Hamburger buns
Cheez Whiz
Tuna
Oregano

Spread bun halves with Cheez Whiz. Place tuna on top. Add a dollop of Cheez Whiz. Sprinkle with oregano. Broil until the Cheez Whiz looks like it has a fatal skin condition. Best eaten with a side of dill pickle. Fluffy blue bathrobe optional.

Source: Caker Sue

(I'd be a dead man if it wasn't for that black bar. And yes, that's MY mini Pac Man game she's playing with. It was probably returned to me once the twelve C batteries it required had died.)

UPDATE: My photograph of Sue’s Tuna Burgers™is causing some controversy in my family. I received an email today, informing me that I "burned" the Cheez Whiz on top. Apparently, there's an "art form" to melting the cheese. (BTW: This isn't coming from Sue, who has yet to see the post, which is probably why her picture remains up.) I replied that's how I remember them. They were always goddamned burnt on the top. The only one who can resolve this is Sue. I'll report back.

Special K Meatless Roast

We all have that failed relationship in our past; the one we look back on and wonder, “If we had a chance to do it all again, tell me…would we? Could we?”

That pretty much sums up how I feel about Special K Meatless Roast. I first made it for Caker Christmas three years ago. I didn’t know what kind of pan to put it in, so I molded it into a log and put it on a baking sheet. Unfortunately, it spread and came out of the oven looking like the doormat to Hell’s gates. No one touched it.

But I wanted to go back and get it right. So this time, I used a loaf pan. Lo and behold, it came out looking like meat, smelling like meat and tasting like…well, the jury’s still out on that one. But at least I have closure.

6 cups Special K
6 eggs
½ cup corn oil
½ cup pecans, chopped
1 package Lipton Onion Soup mix
2 pounds cottage cheese (see note)

Heat oven to 350°. Mix all ingredients together and bake (covered with foil) in greased pan [Editor's note: See how VAGUE this part is?] for 1 hour.  Remove foil last 15-20 minutes to brown top.

Note: 2 pounds = 2 large containers

Source: The Best of Enbridge

Spaghetti Pie

If there’s one ethnicity that has the biggest bone to pick with cakers, it’s the Italians. They gave us pizza. We turned it into Pillsbury Pizza Pops. They gave us tomato sauce. We turned it into Ragú. And they gave us frittata di spaghetti e ricotta which we then turned into Spaghetti Pie.

Italians also gave us spumoni ice cream but we gave it the hell back.

Nevertheless, this Spaghetti Pie (prounounce it “spageddy pah” when serving it to Italians and watch them bite their fists) tastes damn good. Especially the day after it’s made. So if you make it – and I hope you do – warm it up in the oven the next day.

As the Italians say, “Bun appetita!”

3 ½ cups cooked spaghetti
2 tablespoons butter
2 eggs, beaten
½ cup Parmesan cheese
1 cup cottage cheese
1 to 2 cups spaghetti sauce
½ cup mozzarella cheese

Mix cooked spaghetti with butter, eggs and Parmesan cheese. Put into a well greased pie plate. Form a piecrust. Add cottage cheese on top of formed crust. Pour spaghetti sauce onto piecrust. Spread evenly. Bake at 350° for 20 minutes. Sprinkle ½ cup mozzarella cheese on top. Bake 5 minutes more or until cheese melts. This dish freezes well. Thaw before baking.

Source: Our 20th Anniversary Cookbook, Lambeth Co-operative Playschool Inc.

Coke Roast

First off, get the good stuff. I’m talking Colombian. Roasts are expensive and you don’t want to be throwing money away on substandard cocaine. Next, sprinkle the cocaine over the roast and…

Oh, who am I kidding? This roast is made with Coca Cola, not cocaine. Do you think cakers can even afford cocaine? The most hardcore we get is a few discreet sniffs of Liquid Paper while painting our nails white.

I’ve never met a caker who didn’t love a Sunday roast, especially if it’s been cooked in pop. (My sister swears by a combination of Lipton Onion Soup mix and ginger ale.) While visiting my Mom last Sunday, I found this recipe in her copy of The Four Ingredient Cookbooks, or, as I call it, If You’re a Caker and Can Count to Four, You’re in Luck.

My mom and I gave this roast two thumbs up. It was tender, sweet and tangy. Note the side of broccoli. I've already discussed the caker condition known as "broccoli backwind." My sincere apologies to the other passengers on the Greyhound bus that night.

Beef Brisket or Roast

1 package dry onion soup mix

1 (12 ounce) jar chili sauce

1 (12 ounce) can regular Coke

Mix soup, chili sauce and Coke together. Pour over roast, cover and bake at 350° for 30 minutes per pound. DO NOT USE FOIL WITH THIS BECAUSE OF COKE. 

Source: The Four Ingredient Cookbooks...

Cranberry Chicken

Sometimes, when I scan the ingredients for a caker recipe, it feels like I'm looking at the people of the world.

“There’s no way," I think to myself, "Simply no way all these differing tastes and colours and textures will ever come together into a harmonious blend of flavour.”

But then I go on a wing and a prayer and the next thing I know, I'm eating something that tastes (sorta) delicious. And it makes me wonder if, some day, we'll all come together and reside in the world's biggest casserole dish.

Until that time comes, there’s this. And Cranberry Chicken.


1 whole chicken or 4 breasts
1 can whole cranberry sauce
½ cup French salad dressing
½ cup water
1 Knorr vegetable soup mix (see note)

Heat oven to 350°. Mix cranberry sauce, dressing and water. Line chicken in casserole dish. Pour sauce over chicken. Sprinkle with soup mix. Bake covered for 45 minutes. Uncover and bake for additional 10 minutes.

Note: I couldn’t find Knorr soup mix. Only Knox. And I couldn’t find vegetable, so I used another cake staple: onion. It worked out OK. I think.

Source: The Best of Enbridge