Lima Beans & Bacon

I've been making this dish since the mid 1990s and I use frozen green lima beans or frozen baby lima beans. Lima beans are named for the capital city of Peru, as the beans first were taken to Europe from Peru in around 1500. Of course, the interesting thing is, the Peruvian city name is pronounced as if "lee-mah," but the bean name is pronounced "lye-mah," as is the name of the city located in western Ohio. Why did this pronunciation difference come about? It may well have developed because the first exposure many English speakers had to the word was through the written word, which they then assumed to have a long 'i' sound, especially because not many English speakers were familiar with Spanish or Quechua, the South American Indian language of the Incas from which the word was derived.  

 

This is not a diet dish. Serve with boiled potatoes

 

Ingredients (6 side dish servings):

 

1 (12 ounce) bag frozen green lima beans or baby lima beans

1/3 cup finely chopped onion

3 tablespoons reserved liquid from the lima beans

12 slices smoked bacon

(optional) 1/2 teaspoon cayenne pepper (or other ground red pepper)

1/3 cup brown sugar

2 tablespoons butter

 

Cook the beans separately first per the instructions on the package of the brand you use. Generally, the lima beans are put into a pan, covered with water and the water is brought to a steady simmer for about 20 to 25 minutes, with water added as needed. Drain, reserving three tablespoons of the cooking liquid.

To a shallow baking dish, add the lima beans, onion, cooking liquid, sprinkle on the cayenne pepper (if using), cover the beans with bacon slices, then sprinkle the brown sugar over the bacon, top with small pieces of butter scattered about. Bake in a preheated oven at 300 F for 40 to 50 minutes.

 

 

Lima Beans & Bacon along with fried potatoes and tomato slices ...

WORD HISTORY:
Truck/Truckle- "The most common modern meaning" of the noun is really American usage for a "hauling motor vehicle" (British usage for such a vehicle is "lorry"). This is only the history for the noun, for although the meaning of the verb form seems to tie in with the noun, they are really different words from different sources. The verb form means, "to deal or trade in something." The noun goes back to Indo European "dhregh," which had the notion, "to run, to move." This gave Greek "trekhein," which meant "to run," which then produced Greek "trokhos," meaning "wheel" (which made/makes devices move, run). This then produced Greek "trokhileia," which meant, "a collection of pulleys and wheels." This was borrowed by Latin as "trochlea," with the same general meaning. This gave French a form carried to England as "trocle," which was then borrowed into English and became "truckle," meaning "small roller type wheel." When cannons were put onto ships, they were mounted on "carts" on wheels, that also used a system of pulleys for a gun's recoil (the backward thrust of a gun when it is fired). The carts were termed "trucks," a short form of "truckle." The usage broadened to other carts and eventually was applied to heavy motor vehicles used for hauling in the United States prior to the outbreak of World War One in Europe.    

Mashed Sweet Potatoes & Ham Gravy

Just as we often use the juices from roast beef, roast pork or roast chicken to make gravy, the juices from baked ham shouldn't be overlooked, and ham gravy is super. It should not be confused with "red-eye gravy," which is typically made from the drippings of ham fried in a skillet to which black coffee is added (the fatty ham drippings and coffee produce a reddish brown sauce that looks like a red eye).

 

These mashed potatoes are a great side dish next to some freshly baked ham. I like sweet potatoes to be sweetened further for sweet potato casserole, but I only use a small amount of sweetener when I have mashed sweet potatoes, and at times, I don't add any sweetener. So, you can certainly add sweetener in the amount you prefer. 

Ingredients:

 

1 1/4 pound sweet potatoes, peeled and cut into 1 to 2 inch chunks

1 1/2 tablespoons butter

2 to 4 tablespoons canned milk (evaporated milk, NOT sweetened condensed milk)

1 or 2 tablespoons honey (or maple syrup)

1/4 teaspoon nutmeg (or mace)

1/2 teaspoon ground white pepper

pinch of salt

 

For the gravy:

 

3 strips bacon, chopped

4 tablespoons flour

1 1/2 cups ham broth

1/4 cup canned milk

1/4 teaspoon ground white pepper

2 tablespoons finely chopped ham

salt not needed due to broth and bacon

 

Cover the peeled and cut sweet potatoes with water in a pan over high heat, add a pinch of salt. Bring the water to a boil, then reduce the heat to medium to maintain a steady, but not a rolling boil. Cook the sweet potatoes for 8 to 10 minutes, then use a fork to see how close they are to being done; and proceed until they are tender, but not mushy. 

When the sweet potatoes are done, drain them and return them to the same pan over very low heat. I add the butter, honey and the 2 tablespoons of milk to the pan. If you add more milk  than that right off, you may end up with runny sweet potatoes, so it's best to add it a little at a time, if or as needed. Stir the ingredients around until the butter melts, then remove from the heat. Add the nutmeg, white pepper and a pinch of salt. Use a hand mixer to mash the sweet potatoes until they are smooth and creamy. During this process, if you feel they need more milk, add one tablespoon at a time and continue with the mixer. 

For the gravy: Add the chopped bacon to a pan or skillet over medium heat. Let the bacon cook to render the fat, then sprinkle in the flour and stir to make a roux (if there is not enough bacon fat to make the roux, add a tablespoon of butter, let it melt, mix it around, then add the flour). Cook the roux for just a minute or two to remove the raw flour taste. Use the liquid in the baking pan from the ham; that is, the ham juices, and add enough water to it to make 1 1/2 cups. Begin adding the ham broth (about 1/4 cup to start), and keep stirring to get it incorporated with the roux; then, add 1/2 cup broth and repeat the process, continue until all the broth is used and the gravy is smooth (except for the bacon bits), then add the milk and do the same process. Add the finely chopped ham and the white pepper and stir well to mix it all in.

 

Serve the ham gravy over the mashed sweet potatoes ...   

  

 

WORD HISTORY: 

Trek-This word, related to "drag" and to "draw," both original English words from Old Germanic, goes back to Indo European "dhragh," which had the notion of "to pull." This gave its Old Germanic offspring "dragan(an)," with the same meaning. This "seemingly" produced a somewhat later West Germanic variant form, "trakjanan," meaning, "to drag, to pull roughly, to scrape." I say, "somewhat later," because apparently English did not have a form, and the Germanic dialects that became English left the continental North Sea areas beginning in the mid 400s and into the 500s AD. The variant form gave Dutch "trecken," with the meaning, "to drag, to pull;" thus also, "to travel by cart/wagon" (which, of course, was pulled by animals). This then became "trekken." The Dutch began a strong colonial involvement in southern Africa in the mid 1600s. Many Dutch colonists settled there, and a Dutch dialect gradually developed in southern Africa, more recently declared to be a language in its own right, Afrikaans. Dutch "trekken" was naturally carried to the Dutch settlements in southern Africa; thus to early "Afrikaans," by which time, the word had come to mean the more generalized "to travel, to move from one area to another," and this then became "trek," in Afrikaans, also meaning, "to travel, to migrate, to transport," which also then developed the like spelled noun, meaning, "a migration, a journey." The verb and noun were borrowed into English in the mid 1800s, as English speaking colonists were also present in southern Africa by that time. Other relatives in the Germanic languages: German has "trecken" ^ (Treck is the noun form, from Low German in the later 1800s), verb form meaning, "to hike, to move/travel in a migration;" Low German Saxon "Treck" (noun, "migration;" the verb seems no longer to be used); Dutch "trekken" (to pull, to drag, to migrate, to travel; noun "trek," meaning "draught (air flow 'traveling through an opening'), migration"); West Frisian "trekke" (to pull, to drag); Danish "trække" (borrowed from Low German, "to drag, to pull").

^ The original German form was diminished to dialectal use, but it was revived, to some extent, as something of a borrowing, or reinforcement from Low German. Also, the Germans were involved in southern Africa, which provided some reinforcement from Dutch/Afrikaans.

Welsh Stew: Tatws Pum Munud

While the Welsh name of this dish, "Tatws Pum Munud," means "five minute potatoes," the dish takes longer than that to prepare. Original recipes for the dish call for long thin flat slices of potato, carrot, onion and bacon, so with the preparation of the ingredients this way, likely the dish cooked quickly in a hot pan over a fire, earning it the name it still bears, but this is just a guess on my part. Understand, in more modern times, not everyone cuts the ingredients this way, but rather they cut the ingredients into various shapes and sizes, according to their own preferences. Some prefer to cook the stew in the oven. In researching this dish, I found that some people sprinkle a little flour into the skillet early on, which then helps to thicken the broth into a gravy, and this type of Welsh Stew is often served on a plate, while others keep the broth to a minimum, or some others serve a small amount of broth over the meat and vegetables in shallow bowls (see photos, below).

 

Serve with crusty bread with butter and baked beans as a side dish; plus, Worcestershire sauce to sprinkle on for those who desire to do so (it's my understanding that this is pretty common ... I didn't say EVERYBODY does so).

 

 Ingredients:

 

1 large potato, sliced into long slices about 1/3 inch thick

1 carrot, sliced into long slices about 1/3 inch thick

4 to 6 thick slices of smoked bacon, cut into 2 inch long pieces

1 large onion, peeled, halved, and cut into half rings

1 tablespoon vegetable oil or olive oil

2 1/2 cups beef stock

1 teaspoon ground black pepper

1/2 teaspoon salt (remember, the beef stock has salt, so you may not even need this)

(optional for thickening) 1 1/2 tablespoons flour mixed with 3 tablespoons water

Worcestershire sauce for serving 

 

In a large skillet, add the tablespoon of oil over medium heat. Fry the bacon pieces for about 2 minutes, then turn the bacon pieces over. Now add the onion and let the bacon and onion cook for about 2 more minutes, then add the carrot and potato pieces and sprinkle on the pepper and salt. Add the broth and let the broth come to a boil, then adjust the heat to maintain a steady simmer. Cook until the carrots and potatoes are tender ("about" 25 minutes), and optionally you can thicken the broth with flour and water.

 

  

 

WORD HISTORY:

Vassal-"Vassal" is closely related to "valet," a word with much the same history of "vassal," and it is distantly related to "up," a word from the Germanic roots of English, and it is related to the prefix "sub" and to the "supp" part of words like "supply" and "supple" ("supp" is from "sub"), forms of Latin derivation, and English words with "sub" or "supp" are borrowings from Latin or Latin-based languages, commonly from French. "Vassal" goes back to the Indo European root "upo," with the notion of "from under" or "from below;" thus in terms of direction, "to go over/above." This gave Old Celtic "wasso" (perhaps actually 'wassos'?) meaning, "young male servant, squire"^ (thus, "one who is 'subservient' to another"), from the notion of "man who stands below another." This was borrowed by Latin as "vassus," meaning "a servant," which later produced the more extended form of Latin "vassallus," meaning "male servant, domestic servant," and this passed to Latin-based Old French as "vassal," meaning "subordinate, servant, subject (person under the authority of another)." This was borrowed by English in the early part of the 1300s, with the more specific meaning "tenant of a feudal lord to whom he has pledged fealty;" thus, "a subject of the feudal lord." The more general meaning, "servant, one under the control of another," has continued into modern times.

^ "Squire" once simply meant "young man who is an attendant/servant to a knight," and it wasn't until later that it acquired the meaning "landowning country gentleman."

Mashed Potato Cakes

To make mashed potato cakes, you'll need MASHED POTATOES, believe it or not. This is really good for leftover or store bought mashed potatoes, but you can make mashed potatoes just for these cakes. Generally for mashed potatoes, cut up some peeled potatoes (although there are mashed potatoes made with skin on potatoes), boil the cut up potatoes, drain them, add butter, salt and milk (I almost always use canned evaporated milk, NOT condensed milk, and I heat a little of the milk and melt the butter along with it in the microwave; this prevents the milk and butter from cooling down the potatoes as you mash them, which can make them sticky like glue), and then use a potato masher, or better yet, an electric beater to make the mashed potatoes smooth and creamy (be careful on the amount of milk, or you'll end up with runny mashed potatoes, so it's best to add milk a little at a time as you mash the potatoes). You can also buy commercial brand mashed potatoes or use leftover mashed potatoes from last night's roast beef or roast chicken dinner. The key thing is, you want thick mashed potatoes, so you want them cold, or at least chilled, not warm right from being mashed. As I note in the recipe below, the amount of flour I list is approximate. When you begin to mix the potatoes for the cakes, it's best to add the flour a bit at a time to achieve a good consistency for your mashed potato cakes to hold together fairly well (you're not looking for a consistency to patch your cracked sidewalk, but you want the cakes to hold together once you've put them into a pan or on a griddle and spread them out to cook. Too much flour may give you a raw flour taste for your cakes; too little and they will be runny and mushy. 

 

Ingredients (about 12 potato cakes, but depends upon the size potato cakes you want):

 

3 cups of mashed potatoes

1 cup flour (approximately... use more or less for a potato cake that holds together well)

2 large eggs

4 or 5 green onions, chopped (green included)

1 cup shredded sharp cheddar or sharp American cheese

(optional) 4 bacon strips, cut into 1 inch pieces 

salt (your mashed potatoes and the cheese will have salt, so use any additional salt to your own taste)

oil for frying (I use regular olive oil, but vegetable oil/canola oil is fine)

 

Get your cold mashed potatoes, and if using bacon, fry the bacon until just done (you don't want it leathery), then drain it on paper towels. In a bowl, mix together the mashed potatoes, flour (as noted above), eggs, chopped green onions, salt, bacon bits (if using) and shredded cheese. Heat enough oil in a skillet (cast iron is good, but not necessary) to completely cover the bottom of the skillet over medium heat. I use about 1/4 cup potato batter for each cake, but you can use 2 or 3 tablespoons each (you don't want them too thick, so that they cook properly; after all, there is raw egg involved; so, like pancake thickness, not like Texas toast thickness). Once added to the hot skillet/oil, press down to spread out the batter into pancakes. Fry the cakes until golden brown on both sides. You can serve with some extra chopped green onions and/or bacon pieces on the side, as well as with some sour cream.

WORD HISTORY:

Noun-This word is related to quite a number of words, including: "nominal," "nominate" and "nomination," Latin-derived words borrowed by English from Latin, to words with "nym," like "synonym," another Latin word borrowed by English, probably from Latin-based French, but with heavy reinforcement from Latin (or perhaps the other way around), and to "name," a word from the Germanic roots of English. "Noun" goes back to Indo European "nomen," which meant "name." This gave Latin "nomen," meaning "name, name for things, materials, qualities or actions, typically used in a grammatical sense." This passed to Latin-based Old French as "nom" and "non," and this became "noun" in the Anglo-French dialect of the French spoken by the descendants of the Normans in England (also "nom" was used by some). English borrowed the word in the latter part of the 1300s as "noun," but also as "nowne."

Bacon Jam

The Austrian state of Styria (German: Steiermark, capital: Graz) saw the development of "Verhackert(es)," seemingly the forerunner of bacon jam. Verhackert(es) is well ground bacon, garlic, salt and sometimes paprika or pepper mixed together to form a spread that is eaten on bread. "Verhackert(es)" is a word closely related to English "hack."

 

Ingredients:

 

1 pound thick sliced bacon, cut into 1/2 inch pieces

1/2 cup onion, finely chopped

2 cloves garlic, minced

1/2 cup brown sugar

1/4 cup apple juice

1/4 cup apple cider vinegar

1/4 teaspoon ground black pepper

2 tablespoons thick ketchup 

In a skillet over medium heat, saute the bacon until the fat is rendered. Remove the bacon to a paper towel to drain pour off all but 2 tablespoons of the bacon fat. Turn down the heat to low and add the finely chopped onion to the skillet and cook, stirring often, until the onions brown and caramelize (this can take about 10 minutes or more). Add the garlic, brown sugar and cider vinegar, stir well until the sugar dissolves. Increase the heat to medium briefly until it begins to boil, then again reduce the heat to low and stir in the apple juice, being sure to scape up and browned bits from the skillet. Add the bacon, the black pepper and stir in the ketchup. Cook the mixture over low heat until it thickens.  

 

 

 

WORD HISTORY:

Champ/Chomp/Jam-The origin of the verb "champ"^ is uncertain, although many believe it to be imitative of the sound of "noisy chewing." The word seems to show up about 1400 as ''chamb'' and "chammen," with the meaning "to chew." Later, when potatoes were brought from the New World and became acceptable in Europe (they were initially thought to be poisonous, as were tomatoes), the Irish developed a dish of mashed potatoes and scallions (green onions) they called "champ," perhaps because the ingredients were seemingly "chewed up;" that is, "mashed together?" Or perhaps because of the chewing sound necessary to eat the dish, as more and more the word "champ" carried the notion of not only "chewing," but of "the sound of chewing," of "noisily chewing." The mid 1600s saw the development of the variant "chomp" in the American Colonies. In the early 1700s, the word "jam" shows up, and it is likely from "champ," with the idea of "jaws or teeth pressing together" carrying over to jam, "to wedge between, to press together." The noun form for "fruit and sugar cooked together for a spread or tart filling" is from about 1740, and its development is likely from the same idea as the Irish potato dish mentioned above. "Being in a jam;" that is, "being in a difficult situation," traces to the early 1900s.

 

^ The noun "champ" is simply an American English shortening of "champion" from circa 1870.  

Frankfurters with Cheese & Bacon: Berner Würstel

This is a food item to have for a snack on its own, or as the centerpiece for lunch or even for dinner. While pretty common in Austria and parts of southern Germany (Bavaria), these are likely not unknown in Liechtenstein and parts of Switzerland, although they actually come from the Salzburg area of Austria. Understand, the "Berner" part of the name has nothing to do with the Swiss city of Bern, but rather it is the family name of the man credited with the recipe.      

Often served with mustard on the side, some people use ketchup or seasoned tomato sauce, and others are a bit more elaborate by serving chopped onions or freshly grated horseradish alongside, as well as accompaniments like potato salad, fried potatoes and/or some type of garden salad. In the U.S., what we call "Swiss Cheese" is based upon Swiss Emmentaler cheese, which indeed originated in Switzerland, but which is also produced by U.S. cheese companies with their own recipes. Emmentaler is also produced in Germany, specifically in Bavaria, and in France, where it is termed Emmental, and in some other countries too. Gouda originated in the Netherlands, but it too is imitated elsewhere.   

Ingredients (for each Frankfurter, see photo below):

1 Frankfurter
1 or 2 strips of Swiss Cheese (Emmentaler) or Gouda, cut from a slice
1 or 2 thin slices smoked bacon
small amount of oil for frying

Cut the frankfurter lengthwise from one end to the other, but do NOT cut completely through the sausage (although some do just that, and I've made them both ways; the bacon will bind around the Frankfurter either way). Put the cheese into the cut part of the frankfurter then press lightly to close. Wrap the bacon around the frankfurter to completely enclose the frankfurter. These are sometimes grilled, but I put just a few drops of oil into a skillet over medium heat and I fry the bacon-wrapped frankfurters on all sides until browned. The oil will help to prevent sticking as the frankfurter(s) begin to cook and the fat from the bacon will gradually be rendered to help even more.

For one Berner Würstel: a Frankfurter, strips of Swiss cheese or Gouda and 1 or 2 slices of bacon (thinly sliced)

2 Berner Würstel with some fried potatoes, chopped onion and tomato slices

WORD HISTORY:
Cripple-This word is related to "creep," a word from the Germanic roots of English. It goes back to Indo European "grewb/greub," which meant, "to turn, twist, to wind." This gave Old Germanic "krupilaz," meaning, "one who is bent and walks haltingly." This gave Old English (Anglo-Saxon) "crypel" meaning "a cripple," but also used adjectivally and meaning, "crippled." This then became "crepel," then "cripel," before the modern form. The noun form is considered by some to be offensive and, while it is still around, it has largely been replaced by "disabled person" and "handicapped person" (this is also largely true of the adjective, but mainly when applied to people, and of course "lame" is still used at times). The verb form developed from the noun/adjective in the 1200s and meant, "to walk haltingly," a meaning now seldom, if ever, used as a verb. In the 1300s came the further meaning "to make someone or something lame or otherwise handicapped," with the figurative use expanding further to "hinder someone or something"^ (example: "The heavy rains are crippling our effort to have a backyard barbecue"), and these are the meanings still today. Relatives in the other Germanic languages (I'm giving noun forms, unless noted): German has "Krüppel" (the exact history of the standard German form is unclear to me, but the word seems to have been at least influenced by Low German), Low German has "Kröpel," West Frisian "krepel" (?), Dutch "kreupel" (this is an adjective) and "kreupele" (noun), Danish "krøbling" (?), Norwegian "krøpling," Swedish "krympling," Icelandic "krymppill" (I'm uncertain of this, but Old Norse had the same/similar, and Icelandic is still remarkably close to its ancestor).  

^ "Hinder" is a good word to use in the meaning, and the tie can be easily seen with "hinder," as in German, a "Behinderung" is "a disability, a handicap," although it can also mean, "a hindrance, an obstruction."

Stuffed Zucchini Boats Part 2/Bacon: Gefüllte Zucchiniboote

This is another recipe for "Zucchini boats" ... In "Part One" I used smoked salmon as the key ingredient for the filling. This is the link to that recipe: https://pontificating-randy.blogspot.com/2020/02/stuffed-zucchini-boats-part-1-gefullte.html

This recipe uses cheese and bacon for the main toppings, but with a little "lemony" taste. 

Ingredients:

4 zucchini, each about 5 to 6 inches long, halved lengthwise, seeds removed
3/4 cup dry cottage cheese
2/3 cup canned milk (divided use)
1 "good" tablespoon dried thyme leaves
2 tablespoons chopped parsley
2/3 teaspoon black pepper
4 to 6 slices bacon, cut into about 1 inch pieces
3 or 4 Swiss cheese (Emmentaler) slices, halved
2 eggs
2 tablespoons lemon juice

Heat oven to 375 F. Blanch the zucchini halves in boiling water for about 90 seconds and then drain them well. In a small skillet, fry the bacon pieces until some of the fat melts and they begin to brown (you don't want the bacon to be crisp, and remember it will cook more in the oven). Remove the bacon to some paper towels to drain off the grease. Mix together the dry cottage cheese, 1/3 cup milk, thyme leaves, chopped parsley and pepper; set aside for a minute or two. Whisk or beat together the eggs and the other 1/3 cup milk and the lemon juice. Butter a baking pan lightly. Fill each "zucchini boat" with the cottage cheese mixture, then top that with a half slice of cheese and then add 3 to 5 pieces of bacon on top of the cheese. Add each zucchini boat to the buttered pan. Pour or spoon some of the egg/milk/lemon mixture over each "boat." Bake the "boats" for about 45 minutes, or until they are tender (a fork easily pierces them).  


With a side salad ....

WORD HISTORY:
Pool-English has more than one word of this spelling, and this is the one with the general meaning, "a small body of water." The more distant history of this word is shaky, and a direct Old Germanic form is uncertain; however, the West Germanic branch had "pol/pola," meaning, "a small body of water." This gave Old English (Anglo-Saxon) "pol," essentially with the same meaning and this then became "pool," with the word denoting "a body of generally still water, standing water," rather than of flowing water. The West Germanic form "may" be from a similar Old Germanic form, as Old English also had "pyll/pull," meaning, "pool," but also, "bay, inlet," and Old Norse, from the North Germanic branch, had "pollr," meaning, "pond," but also, "bay." I have to believe these words are all connected, and that they likely share a common Old Germanic ancestor with a meaning having to do with "water collected off to itself from a main body of water." Further, Lithuanian, a Baltic language that has long had contact with Germanic languages has "bala," meaning, "swampy ground, quagmire." A change from a "b" to a "p," or vice versa, is not uncommon, and whether this connects the Germanic form to an Indo European form is possible, although a borrowing by Lithuanian is also very possible. Old English "pol" later became "pole," then "pool." Old English "pyll/pull" later became "pill" (nothing to do with 'pill,' a medication tablet), a word now confined to dialect in Britain for "an inlet of water from the sea." Other forms in the Germanic languages: German has "Pfuhl" ("puddle, pool, murky water"^), Low German Saxon "Pohl" ("pool, pond"), Dutch and West Frisian "poel" ("pool," also "basin??"). Danish "pøl" ("puddle"), Norwegian "pøl" ("sewage pool, cesspool"), Swedish "pöl" ("pool, puddle") are all borrowings from Low German from a few hundred years ago; however, seemingly with more modern influence from German, especially for Norwegian and Swedish. Icelandic has "pollur" ("puddle") from Old the Norse form "pollr."  

^ The idea of such water has also given German offshoot and figurative meanings like, "cesspool, sewage water, 'sin.' "      

Tyrol Bacon Dumplings: Tiroler Speckknödel

"Tiroler Speckknödel" seemingly date back about 800 years! While the Tirol region* seems to be the place of origin of these splendid dumplings, "Speckknödel" are not uncommon in parts of Bavaria. There are some variations for Speckknödel; as for instance, some people fix them without onion, while others use some marjoram in the dough. Firm salami type sausages are commonly used as the sausage component for "Speckknödel," and while 6 to 7 cups of bread pieces may seem like a lot, it really isn't, as the pieces should be loosely put into a cup, not pressed in. The dumplings are often simply eaten in beef broth or with sauerkraut or with a salad. I get about 12 golf ball size dumplings from this recipe.

Ingredients:
6 to 7 loosely packed cups dried bread or rolls, cubed or crumbled into small pieces (about like large lima beans in size)
1/3 to 1/2 pound bacon, thick rind removed, and then chopped
1/4 pound firm salami-type sausage, chopped 
1/2 cup onion, finely chopped
1/2 cup milk
3 eggs, lightly beaten
1 tablespoon butter
1 tablespoon flour (perhaps another tablespoon)
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 tablespoon parsley
salted water to cook
chopped chives for garnish

In a skillet over low heat, melt the butter and then add the finely chopped onion, cook for about 2 to 3 minutes. Now add the bacon and sausage, increase the heat to medium, and cook for a few minutes, until the bacon has softened (do not let the bacon or sausage get crispy), remove from the heat and let the mixture cool down somewhat. In a bowl, add the bread pieces, bacon mixture, eggs, salt, parsley, 1 tablespoon of flour, and the milk. Mix everything together by hand for a minute or two, then cover the bowl and let it sit for about 15 minutes or so. In the meantime, bring a pot or pan of water seasoned with some salt to a boil. Wet your hands with some cold water, and roll some of the dough into golf ball sized dumplings. Add the dumplings to the boiling water and adjust the heat so that the water is simply simmering, not seething. Cook the dumplings for about 12 to 15 minutes, and just because they float, doesn't mean they are done. Keep turning the dumplings in the simmering water until the time has passed. Remove them with a slotted spoon to a plate covered with paper towels or napkins to let them drain or add them straightaway to bowls of hot beef broth and sprinkle with chopped chives.

* The Tirol region was a part of the Old German Empire (Holy Roman Empire of the German Nation), and came under the control of the Habsburg family, the head of which was the Archduke of Austria, and who was long elected as the German emperor. When this entity was disbanded (1806), Tirol was a part of the new Austrian Empire (announced in 1804), which later was reorganized and renamed the Austro-Hungarian Empire (1867), or Austria-Hungary as a somewhat shorter form. After World War One, the southern districts of Tirol (called South Tirol, or Südtirol in German) were ceded to Italy for its entry into the war on the Allied side and this became a part of the Italian Alto Adige region. Some of the world's great skiers are from both the Austrian and Italian areas of Tirol.

WORD HISTORY:
Sinew-This word goes back to Indo European "sneh," which had the notion "to twist together, to connect together, to weave together." This gave its Old Germanic offspring "sinawo," which meant "sinew, tendon," which gave Old English (Anglo-Saxon) "seonu" and "sinu," depending upon dialect, both forms with the same meaning. This then became "sinue" (the ending 'e' pronounced eh/ah),  before the modern version. The other Germanic languages have: German "Sehne" (sinew, tendon), Low German Saxon "Sehn" (sinew, tendon), Dutch "zenuw" (nerve, sinew), West Frisian "sine" (sinew, tendon), Norwegian "sene" (tendon, sinew), Icelandic "sin" (tendon), Swedish "sena" (tendon, sinew), Danish "sene" (sinew, tendon).

Lithuanian Potato Casserole: Kugelis

A friend of mine was of partial Lithuanian ancestry. I can't remember for sure, but I believe his maternal grandparents were from Lithuania and they settled here in Cleveland, where other Lithuanian immigrants formed a Lithuanian community in the northeastern part of the city in the East 185th Street area, where it still exists to this day. My friend once prepared this dish, "Kugelis," for a party, many years ago, which gave me my first time to try "Kugelis." Unfortunately, my friend passed away quite a number of years ago.

There are some variations to "Kugelis," but generally those variations are about supplemental ingredients, not about the basic ingredients of potatoes, onion and bacon, although it can be made without bacon, to make it a vegetarian dish. "Kugelis" is a common dish for holidays (not just Christmas), and it is often served topped with sour cream and/or with fruit preserves or compote, like lingonberries (Americans and Canadians can easily use whole cranberry sauce/cranberry relish). By the way, sour cream is a common ingredient in dishes, or as an accompaniment to dishes, in that part of the world, as that overall region of the eastern Baltic area and transcending many national borders, has long had a strong tie to dairy farming.    

Ingredients:

1 1/2 pounds potatoes, peeled and grated (best to squeeze out excess liquid from the potatoes too)* 
1/2 cup onion, grated
1/3 cup bacon, chopped
1 1/2 tablespoons flour 
1/2 cup milk
3 eggs
2 to 3 tablespoons chopped dill 
2/3 teaspoon pepper
1 teaspoon salt

In a skillet, saute the bacon over medium heat for about 3 minutes, then add the onion and saute further until the onion softens, then remove the skillet from the heat and set it aside. In a large bowl, whisk together the eggs, milk, dill, salt and pepper. Add the grated potatoes, the bacon/onion mixture and sprinkle the flour over the mixture, then thoroughly mix everything together well (I do it by hand). Butter a baking dish or pan and put the potato mixture in and smooth it over. Bake at 400 F for 45 minutes or until nicely browned. Serve with a dollop of sour cream on top.

* A few things about the potatoes: Russet/Idaho potatoes are good for this dish. I grate the potatoes on an old style vegetable grater, and I use the side of the grater with relatively small holes (maybe some say "medium"?), but not the small or extra small grating parts. It's best to wait to grate the potatoes until just before you add them to the mixture, or they will begin to oxidize (turn brownish in color). When you grate the potatoes, they will likely give off at least some liquid, which you can just pour off. I then give the grated potatoes a squeeze by hand to get any really excess liquid out of them. I don't try to wring them dry, although from what I understand, some Lithuanians do just about that.  

WORD HISTORY:
Epic-This noun and adjective is distantly related to "voice," a Latin-derived word borrowed by English from French. "Epic" goes back to Indo European "wekw," which meant, "to speak." This gave transliterated Ancient Greek "epos," which meant, "a word, one's word;" that is, "a promise, heroic story often told in poetry." This produced the transliterated Ancient Greek adjective "epikos," meaning, "relating to heroic story or stories of poetry." This was borrowed by Latin as "epicus" with the same meaning. This gave French "épique," which was borrowed by English in the late 1500s, with likely reinforcement by Latin "epicus." The noun developed from the adjective in the early 1700s meaning, "an extended poem or narrative centered around a heroic figure." The adjective has taken on the additional more general meaning, "(usually) a story or event staged or told in a grand way."    

My Own German Coleslaw

Cabbage is a popular part of the cuisine of the German cultural areas of Europe, and indeed for other European cultures too. Cabbage is a hearty plant, generally cheap, and that has kept it on many home menus during good times and bad. "Coleslaw" is a term English took from Dutch "koolsla" (cabbage salad), and the "cole" part is a pretty common Germanic form derived from Latin "caulis" many, many centuries ago, and that Germanic borrowing gave English "cawel," a word for cabbage and related plants, like kale (kale is simply another spelling of cawel). Before the word cabbage was borrowed from French (which had it from Latin), English had borrowed another Latin word, "brassica," which was also used for cabbage. German uses the word "Krautsalat" for "cabbage salad;" that is, "coleslaw" in English. The standard German word for cabbage is "Kohl," the close relative of English "cole," which in English was once spelled "col," and before that as, "cawel." As noted above, the "slaw" part is from Dutch, and it was a contracted form of "salad," another word of Latin derivation.
  
This is my own recipe, not completely following along the typical German line for such a cabbage salad.

Ingredients:

3 1/2 cups green cabbage, shredded or chopped
2 1/2 cups red cabbage, shredded or chopped
1/2 cup carrot, peeled and chopped
1 medium apple, cored, then chopped (I leave the peel on) 
4 or 5 slices bacon, fried, drained on paper towels, and chopped 
1/4 cup apple cider vinegar
1/3 to 1/2 cup honey
(optional) 1 to 2 tablespoons sugar or more honey
2 tablespoons mayonnaise
1/2 cup sour cream
2 tablespoons regular olive oil (or sunflower seed oil)
1 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon pepper

Put the the green and red cabbage, the carrot, the apple and the bacon into a large bowl; mix everything by hand. In a bowl or a large cup or a blender (I use a large measuring cup), add the honey, the vinegar, the mayonnaise, the sour cream, the oil, the salt and the pepper. Whisk, blend or use a stick blender to mix everything together well until smooth. Taste to see if you prefer the dressing to be sweeter; in which case, add the sugar or more honey and mix well again. Add about half of the dressing to the cabbage mixture and begin mixing it all together (I mix it with my hands). Add the remainder of the dressing and mix it all in well (the apple pieces must be coated or they will turn brown). Taste the slaw and mix in any additional salt and/or pepper to your preference. Refrigerate the slaw for a minimum of 2 hours, by which time the main components will give off some liquid to the salad.      

WORD HISTORY:
Couth (Uncouth)-"Couth" is closely related to the verb "can" and to the adjective "cunning," both words from the Germanic roots of English. It is a little more distantly related to "know," another word from the Germanic roots of English. "Couth" goes back to Indo European "gnoh," which had the notion of "to have knowledge." This gave its Old Germanic offspring "kunnanan," with the same general meaning, and the participle/adjective form "kunþaz" (known). The Germanic verb gave Old English (Anglo-Saxon) "cunnan," which meant, "to know, to be able to do something (by having knowledge of), to be familiar with." The first and third person singular present form of "cunnan" was "cann." The Germanic past participle/adjective form gave Old English "cuþ" (="cuth"), which was used adjectivally and meaning, "known, famous, familiar." The participle form "cuth" then became "couthe," then "coude," then about 1500 an "l" was inserted,^ giving us the modern "could." Back to the adjective "cuþ," which became "cuth," then "couth." It's negative form was "uncuþ" (uncuth), meaning, "unknown, strange, unfriendly." This then became "uncouth," with the meaning emphasizing "behavior beyond known standards, ill mannered, crude, rough." This then influenced adjectival "couth" in its emphasized meaning to, "polite, well mannered, refined" (from the notion of "behavior by known and familiar standards"). "Couth" has fallen out of common usage, but "uncouth" is still used. There are MANY relatives in the other Germanic languages, some of which are: German has the adjective "kundig" (knowledgeable, knowing, and German once also had "kund," meaning, "known, obvious," and like its English cousin, German had "unkundi," the equivalent to "uncouth"), Low German "künnig" (knowledgeable, knowing), Dutch has the now old style "kond" (known), Icelandic "kunnur" (known), Danish "kyndig" (knowledgeable), Swedish "kunnig" (knowledgeable), Norwegian "kunnskapsrik" (knowledgeable).

^ The "l" was seemingly added to the word following the pattern of "should" and "would," although the parent words of both of these (shall and will) have "l" in the spellings. Of course, to make this even more confusing, the "l" is not pronounced in ANY of these words; at least, not in modern English.     

Hessian Potato and Bacon Flatbread: Schmirchelskuche

"Schmirchelskuche" is also spelled "Schmiergelskuche," and these are regional names for the more general term "Schmandkuchen," which means "cream cake." These "cakes" are rather more like flatbread made with yeast dough spread with a "creamy paste-like" layer and then topped with other items, either sweet or savory. The "Schmirchels" and "Schmiergels" parts from the words above are dialect words from standard German "schmieren," the close cousin of English "smear." The dialect names for this flatbread dish come from the idea of "smearing the creamy layer over the dough."     

You can cut some of the fat in this recipe by using reduced fat sour cream, but admittedly, this is an old time dish from a time when eating fatty foods was not discouraged, but rather it was often ENCOURAGED as a way to provide calories for people who did a lot of physical work, such as in farming; and this dish seemingly developed in the farming areas of northern Hessen, where the dialect is "Oberhessisch" (Upper Hessian), a branch of the more general Hessian dialect. Part of my roots are from northern Hessen. 

Ingredients:

2 pounds relatively small sized potatoes, skins on (you can certainly use larger potatoes)
1/2 teaspoon caraway seeds (for cooking the potatoes)
2/3 teaspoon salt (for cooking the potatoes)
1 pound of prepared bread/pizza dough*
1 finely chopped or grated medium onion (large pieces won't cook properly)
1/2 pound thick sliced streaky bacon, cut into about 1 inch strips
1 cup sour cream (reduced fat type is fine) or creme fraiche **
2 eggs
1/4 cup chopped chives
1/2 teaspoon salt 
1 teaspoon ground black pepper
1/2 teaspoon nutmeg
(optional) some caraway seed to sprinkle on top
oil for the baking sheet
 
Boil the potatoes in salted water with a 1/2 teaspoon of caraway seeds. Roll or press out the dough and put it onto a lightly oiled/greased baking sheet. Germans usually fit the dough into a rectangular baking sheet, but you won't turn into a pumpkin latté if you don't have a total rectangle. Let the dough rise a little as you continue with the recipe. When the potatoes are tender, but not mushy, pour off the hot water and rinse them in some cold water to cool them down somewhat; they should still be "warm." Drain the potatoes and remove the skins, then use a potato masher to mash the potatoes as smoothly as you prefer. Mix together the mashed potatoes, sour cream, onion, eggs, salt and chopped chives. Spread the potato mixture over the dough (I leave an edge around the crust, like pizza, but Germans tend to put the potatoes clear up to the edge), then put strips of bacon on the potato topping. Some people sprinkle some caraway seed on top before putting the flatbread in the oven, but this is purely optional. Heat oven to 350 F. Bake about 50 to 60 minutes. (Note: If you have some potato mixture left over, you can bake it in a separate dish)

* In the U.S., such dough is sold frozen in supermarkets, but some pizza shops sell dough that is not frozen. Of course, you can make your own yeast-risen dough according to your own recipe.

** Creme Fraiche is generally a little less tangy than sour cream. You can easily make your own:
 https://pontificating-randy.blogspot.com/2017/07/make-your-own-creme-fraiche.html?zx=5147a608f2ae7fa3 

WORD HISTORY:
Buy-The origin of this common word is unknown and forms have only been found in the Germanic languages, although the English form is the only one to survive in a standard Germanic language in modern times (Old Saxon/Low German had "buggjan/buggian," and meant, "to buy," Old Norse had "byggja," meaning, "to rent out." It goes back to Old Germanic "bugjanan," meaning, "to take possession of something by giving money for it;" thus, "buy," as opposed to exchanging goods (trade). This gave Old English (Anglo-Saxon) "bycgan," with the same meaning. This then became "budgen" (?) in southwestern England, and "bydgen" (?) in some eastern parts of England, which then became "buyen/byen," before the modern version. The meaning, "to believe someone's explanation of some incident," is a figurative use "seemingly" from the earlier part of the 1900s. 

Rocky Mountain Potato Salad

I'd guess in the early 2000s, I started buying "Rocky Mountain Potato Salad" several times at a supermarket, but I haven't seen it for quite some time, and I'm NOT claiming this is the same exact recipe, but it is, at least, similar. The supermarket sold the salad from the deli case, and if I remember right, the store didn't make the potato salad themselves, but rather they bought it ready made. I checked, and there are a number of recipes that are called "Rocky Mountain Potato Salad," but why exactly the name "Rocky Mountain Potato Salad" is used, I do not know (ahh, maybe because it's easier than saying Appalachian Mountain Potato Salad or Adirondack Mountain Potato Salad? hahaha).  

Ingredients:

2 pounds small red potatoes, cooked (but not mushy), then halved or quartered, depending upon size
1/2 cup chopped walnuts
2/3 cup chopped red onion
1 rib celery, chopped
1/4 pound bacon, chopped
1/2 cup sour cream (reduced fat type is fine)
1/3 cup smoky barbecue sauce  
3 tablespoons chopped dill
1/2 teaspoon ground black pepper
1 teaspoon salt

Cook the potatoes in lightly salted water until they are cooked through, but not mushy. Meanwhile, cut the bacon into small pieces, saute it to the desired level of crispness, then drain it on paper towels. Cut the small potatoes into halves and the somewhat larger potatoes into quarters. Put the potato pieces into a bowl, add the red onion, the bacon, the chopped walnuts, the celery, the chopped dill, the pepper and the salt, add the sour cream and mix to lightly coat the salad, then drizzle the barbecue sauce over the potato salad. Gently give the salad just a couple of folds to distribute the barbecue sauce a little into ribbons running through the salad (it doesn't have to coat all of the pieces of the salad).  

 WORD HISTORY:
Country-This word is related to the compound forming elements "contra" (as in "contraband") and "counter" (as in "counterattack"), both indicating "against, to be opposite or in opposition," and both are Latin-derived forms borrowed by English ("contra" from Latin, "counter" from Latin-based French). "Country" goes back to Indo European "kom," which had the notion "by, with, near, beside." This gave Latin "com" and its variant form "con," meaning "together, with," which was given the comparative suffix "tra," a form of "ter," which produced "contra." This was used in the Latin term "terra contrata," meaning, "land opposite one;" that is, "land spread out in front of one," often rendered as only "contrata," which passed into Latin-based Old French as "contree," initially meaning, "countryside, the region immediately around cities or towns." English borrowed the word as "cuntree" in the mid 1200s, but its meaning more and more meant "one's homeland" and "homeland to a particular group of people." The word also took over much of the later expanded form "countryside," as a short form of that word: "Karen doesn't live in the city, she lives out in the "country(side"), or, "We're taking a few days vacation to get out of the city and go out in the country(side)." But that idea of "countryside, rural lands," had been present for quite some time, as "the region immediately around cities or towns," but centuries ago, because cites/towns commonly had walls around them, it made the contrast much starker.   

Mecklenburg Sour Cream Potatoes: Schmandkartoffeln

This is a potato dish from the Mecklenburg region of Germany. Mecklenburg lies just east of Hamburg and vicinity, and after World War Two it was part of the Communist-dominated "German Democratic Republic" (German: Deutsche Demokratische Republik, abbreviated as "DDR," and don't be fooled by the "Democratic" part of the name, as it was a Communist dictatorship, with strong ties to the Soviet Union). As such, it was part of the state of "Mecklenburg-Vorpommern" (Vorpommern is literally "Fore Pomerania," but is more commonly called "West(ern) Pomerania," in English), a state that continued with the reunification of Germany. Within the Mecklenburg region itself, the best known city is Rostock. I had a German friend who lived in Rostock for a while as a child after World War Two, but fortunately, he and his family were able to make it to West Germany; then later, he emigrated to the U.S. 
    
This is an easy dish to prepare. I use beef stock to make it, but you can use vegetable stock, which will make the sauce somewhat lighter in color. The potatoes are often served with Rügenwalder Teewurst* and dill pickles (German: "Salzgurken" (literally, "salt gherkins"), also called "saure Gurken," literally, "sour gherkins"). "Teewurst" is a spreadable sausage available in some German delis, or online from sellers with German or German-style food products. If you don't have Teewust, you can try some ham salad or potted meat. By the way, the standard German word for "sour cream" is "Sauersahne," but in a number of regional dialects, the word "Schmand" is used.  

Ingredients:

2 pounds small to medium potatoes, cook with skins on
1/2 cup chopped smoked bacon
1 large (baseball size) onion, chopped
1 2/3 cups beef (or vegetable) stock
1/2 cup sour cream 
1/3 cup flour (or a little more, if you like the sauce thicker)
1 heaping teaspoon white pepper
2 teaspoons marjoram leaves (or oregano)
1 teaspoon salt (if your beef or vegetable stock has a good deal of salt, you can omit this)

Wash the potatoes well, cook them, skins on, in lightly salted water, until cooked, but still firm. Rinse the potatoes in cold water and peel them while they are still warm, set them aside for a little while. In a skillet over medium heat, saute the diced bacon for about 2 or 3 minutes. Add the chopped onion and cook until the onion softens. Sprinkle the flour over the bacon/onion mixture, then stir to mix in the flour, and let cook for just a minute or two. Gradually add the beef stock, stirring constantly, until the stock is all added and the sauce begins to thicken. Add the marjoram (or oregano), the salt (if using) and the white pepper, stir to mix in the seasonings. Cook for another 3 to 4 minutes. Make sure heat is turned low, then stir in the sour cream. Slice the potatoes and gently fold them into the sauce. Let the potatoes warm up over low heat, then remove the skillet from the heat. Serve with rye, whole wheat or multi-grain bread, slices of Teewurst and sliced pickles.

* "Teewurst" literally means "tea sausage," as it was often served with afternoon tea.

Schmandkartoffeln (Sour Cream Potatoes) with multi-grain bread, sliced pickles and Teewurst

WORD HISTORY: 
Cannon-This word is closely related to "cannoli," a word English borrowed from Italian, and also to "canon" (church law, standard or guideline for doing something, clergyman), also a borrowing by English. "Cannon" has a bit of a shaky distant history, but it "seems" to go back to transliterated Sumerian "ginah,"^ which meant "reed," which seems to have been taken by transliterated Akkadian as "qanuh," with the same meaning. This gave Hebrew "qaneh" (same meaning). This was borrowed by Ancient Greek from Hebrew as transliterated "kánna," and also meant "reed." Latin took the word as "canna," also meaning "reed," but also used for other "large woody plant stems;" thus also, "tube." This passed into Italian as "cannone," with the meaning "tube," which came to be applied to the barrel of artillery pieces when these weapons came into common use, but then this began to be used for the entire gun in general. This was borrowed by French (1300s?) as "canon," and English borrowed the word, also as "canon," in the early 1400s. The modern spelling "cannon" dates from the early 1800s. (Note: German borrowed the word as "Kanone" in the 1500s, but "perhaps" more so directly from Italian, and with reinforcement from French?)   

^ Sumerian was an ancient language of Mesopotamia in the Middle East from thousands of years ago. It has not been connected to any particular language family, although it came into much contact with elements of  the Semitic languages, especially Akkadian. 

Danish Liver Pâté: Leverpostej

"Leverpostej" is pronounced like: "layver-post-eye."

You don't have to chop the liver, pork fat and onion into some exact size, just into somewhat smaller pieces, as these will all be put into the grinder or food processor. And please don't cringe if you don't like anchovies. This is not a pizza. The anchovies are blended into the mixture and you will not get the strong taste, at all.

Often served on Danish whole rye bread (rugbrød),* with all or some combination of pickled beets, fried mushrooms and bacon. Finding Danish whole rye bread outside of Denmark will likely be a problem, although "perhaps" some specialty bakeshops may have it, or similar. Of course you should be able to get it online, but German "Vollkornbrot" ** is "essentially" the same thing (if I were running for dog catcher in Copenhagen, I just lost), and it is available in some stores in parts of the U.S. and Canada, including here in Cleveland. Some Vollkornbrot is imported from Germany (typically it comes sliced), while others are made in Canada or the United States (usually sliced, but in larger loaves). Both Danish "rugbrød" and German "Vollkornbrot" are types of dark rye bread with various cracked grains and seeds in them. 

Ingredients:

2 pounds pork liver, cut into somewhat smaller pieces
1/3 pound pork fat, cut into smaller pieces
2 1/2 cups roughly chopped onion
2 eggs
1/2 cup heavy cream
2 tablespoons flour
6 anchovies
2 teaspoons salt
2 teaspoons black pepper

Grind the liver, pork fat and onions to a fine consistency. The ground mixture will be runny and will look yucky. Add the other ingredients and mix in well. Put mixture into a loaf pan or loaf pans. Put the pan (or pans, if preparing all together) into a shallow pan and add some warm water to make a water bath for the loaf pan, also known as a "bain-marie" (see Word History, below) Bake in a 350 F degree oven. The baking time will solely depend upon the size loaf pan or pans you use, so it might take 45 minutes for a small pan, but 60 to 90 minutes, or even 2 hours, for a larger pan. The juices from the leverpostej should be fairly clear to signal that the dish is done. During baking, if the top of the leverpostej begins to become too dark, just lay a piece of foil over it. Danes at times use small disposable aluminum baking pans for their leverpostej and they fill some such pans and then freeze them. They need only remove a pan from the freezer and bake it, when desired. 

* The words of the Danish compound "rugbrød" are closely related to English "rye bread," as both words are Germanic in derivation, and English is from the West Germanic branch of Germanic and Danish is from the North Germanic branch. "Rye" was once spelled with a "g" in English, but the sound morphed into "ay/eye" sound, as happened similarly (somewhat different sound of simply 'ay') in a number of other English words like, "may," the verb, once spelled "mæg," and "day," which was once spelled "dæg."

** "Vollkornbrot" is literally "full corn bread" in English, but in English we say "whole grain bread." In North American English the word "corn" has come to mean the usually yellow kernels from a cob (synonym: maize) during the last couple of hundred years or so, but this word is from Germanic and it has long been the general word for grain throughout the Germanic languages, and it still retains that meaning in the UK, where "corn" and "grain" are essentially synonyms. The word "grain" is not an original English word, but it is rather a Latin-derived word, that was borrowed into English.
    
Slice of whole rye bread (I used Vollkornbrot) with "leverpostej," topped with bacon, with pickled beets and fried mushrooms on the side ...

WORD HISTORY: 
Bain-marie-This term is used for "a water bath of a large, shallow pan of water with one or more smaller containers of food placed inside the pan, then put into an oven to cook gently and with less threat of the food sticking to the pan(s)." English borrowed the term from the same expression in French in the first half of the 1800s. This was the French rendering of Latin "balneum Mariae" ("bath of Maria"). French "bain" was derived from the verb "baigner" (to bathe, to have/take a bath), from Latin "balneare," with the same meaning, derived from the Latin noun "bal(i)neum" (a bath), which had been borrowed from Greek "balaneion," which meant, "warm water bath;" thus also, "a place for bathing, a bathroom." Where Greek got the word is unknown. The use of "Marie" seemingly goes to "Maria the Jewess," who was an alchemist in Egypt some time in the early centuries of the Christian Era. Such water baths were used in science, and she seems to have been mistakenly credited with the invention of these baths, at the time, so her name was applied to the process. "Marie" is simply the French rendering of "Maria."  

German Onion Tart: Zwiebelkuchen

"Zwiebelkuchen" literally means, "onion cake," but in reality it is more of an "onion tart," or an "onion pie." The standard German word for the dish is the compound word "Zwiebelkuchen," and the dish is known as part of several regional cuisines in German speaking areas; and therefore, it is known by a number of dialect names: "Zwiwwelkuche" in Pfälzisch,* "Zwiwwlwähe" and "Zwiebelwäje" in the Alemannic German dialects of Switzerland,** but "Zwiwwelkuech" in the Alemannic German  dialect of Alsace, "Zwiwlwähe" in Swabian Alemannic dialect (very generally the Stuttgart area), and in the Frankish dialect of the Nuremberg area it is known as "Zwiebelplootz," and there are likely more regional names. Just as there are a number of names for this dish, so are there some variations in recipes, with some people using yeast risen dough, like bread or pizza dough, and others using a "short crust" pie dough (in German: Mürbeteig), and still others using store bought puff pastry. I have used both pie dough and bread dough when I've made this, and for this article I used pie dough. I've seen it mentioned by some that originally bread dough was used. Some bake the dish on square baking sheets, while others use round cake or pie pans. Some people add some shredded Swiss cheese ("Emmentaler") or Gruyère to the top.

"Zwiebelkuchen," a type of quiche (see Word History, below), has long been associated with the fall (autumn) time of the year, when "new wine" (German: "neuer Wein"); that is, not totally fermented wine, is sold in many wine bars and restaurants in wine producing areas. As with so many food products and recipes in German areas, there are a number of regional names for "new wine;" hey, you didn't think the Germans would make this easy, did you? One of the common names is "Federweißer," literally, "feather white," but why this term is used is not really understood; although perhaps because of young birds having white or off white feathers? The wine is murky; thus, not really the clear light color of white wine after it matures. Believe me though, there are several other terms used for new wine. Now you don't have to just make this tart in the fall of the year, although you may be penalized by Germans for breaking with tradition by being forced to repeatedly attempt to pronounce  the word "Streichholzschächtelchen" until you get it right. ***

To save yourself time and work, use store bought pie crust, frozen puff pastry or pizza dough. In times now "generally" past, lard was often used in the preparation of "Zwiebelkuchen," in both the dough and in the filling, but many now replace the lard with butter or oil. The recipe here is just a sort of guideline, as the quantity of ingredients will depend upon the dish you use to make "Zwiebelkuchen." I used a 10 inch pie dish (Pyrex/glass). 

Ingredients:

pie dough or puff pastry
2 tablespoons butter (divided use, or you can substitute olive oil) 
2 baseball size onions, chopped
1/2 pound thick sliced bacon, chopped or diced)
1 teaspoon caraway seeds
1 teaspoon ground nutmeg
1 cup heavy cream (or you can substitute reduced fat sour cream)
1/2 cup evaporated milk (canned milk)
1/4 cup dry white wine
3 eggs
2/3 teaspoon black pepper
(optional) 1/2 teaspoon salt 
(optional for garnish) chopped green onions (scallions)

Heat oven to 400 F. Use 1 tablespoon butter (or olive oil) to grease the pan or baking sheet you will use. Then line the pan with dough. In a skillet over medium heat, melt the butter (or you can use 1 tablespoon oil) and add the bacon. Cook the bacon until much of the fat is rendered, but remember, the bacon will be baked, so you don't want to cook it too much in the skillet. Remove the bacon to some paper towels, then pour off all but about 2 tablespoons of the melted bacon fat from the skillet. Add the onions and cook over low heat until the mass of onions starts to cook down, then add the wine, caraway seed and nutmeg, and stir to mix well. Cook until the onions are softened and remove from the heat. Then if using pie dough, let the onions cool down just a little. Put the onions into the dough lined dish and spread them out evenly. Sprinkle the bacon pieces over the onions. Put the dish into the oven and let it bake until the edge of the dough "begins" to set. While that is going on, mix together the cream, milk, eggs, black pepper and salt too, if using (mix well). Remove the dish from the oven and pour the cream mixture over the onions and bacon. Try to get it over all parts of the dish. Put dish back into the oven and bake until the top is well set and a little browned (the one I made for this article took about 25 minutes). Remove from the oven and let cool for just a little time before slicing. Serve it warm, or it can also be served chilled. I like it with some fresh chopped scallions on top and many Germans serve it that way, too. 

* "Pfälzisch" (=Palatinate dialect, spoken in the Palatinate and in the Rhineland-Palatinate) is a dialect of German derived from Frankish, as are the nearby German dialects Hessisch (Hessian), Lothringisch (Lorraine German) and "Lëtzebuergesch" (Luxembourgish). Other German dialects are also derived from forms of Frankish, as is Dutch, the language of the Netherlands, and the Dutch dialect of Flemish, spoken by about 60% of the population of Belgium.

** The Alemannic German dialects are spoken in southwestern Germany, Switzerland, Alsace, Liechtenstein and far western Austria.   

*** While all languages have compound words, German is famous (infamous?) for compounding compounds into gigantic words that send fear into the hearts of those seeing or hearing them. They really are not as fearsome as they appear, as you just need to break them down. "Streichholzschächtelchen" means, "little matchbox," from the verb "streichen" (close relative of the  English verb "(to) strike," and with the same meaning in German), the noun "Holz" (close relative of generally now antiquated English "holt," meaning "forest, woods, timberland," which in German simply came to mean "wood," the material from trees), the noun "Schachtel," a word borrowed by German from Italian with alterations in Austro-Bavarian German dialect, and meaning "box," and the suffix "-chen," a diminutive, which means it makes a word's meaning seem "smaller" or "endearing" (a close relative of English forms -kin, -ken, -chen). So if Germans try to penalize you by making you try to pronounce "Streichholzschächtelchen," you needn't panic, it's like, "strike-hills-shuttle-chin"... ah, "stripe-held-snipple-chen" ... ah, "stray-help-shacktel-chun," ah... oh the hell with it! You're in trouble!

WORD HISTORY:
Quiche-This word is related to "cake." It goes back to Indo European "ghag/ghog," which simply had the notion of "a spherical object, a clump." Its Old Germanic offspring was "kokon," which by then meant "clump, or small round loaf of bread." It was not until the 1400s and 1500s that "cake" was more commonly used for the sweetened form of bread we think of today. The Germanic form gave Old High German "kuohho," which seems to have meant, "round bread loaf, clump of cooked mush." This then became "kuoche," before the modern German form "Kuchen" (meaning "cake") which was "Küeche/Küche" in "Lothringisch" dialect (Lorraine Frankish German dialect). This was borrowed by French in about 1800 (?) as "quiche," and English borrowed the word in the mid 1900s.^

^ For "cake," the English relative of "quiche" and of German "Kuchen," this is the link to the article with that "Word History": http://pontificating-randy.blogspot.com/2012/09/its-none-of-your-pancake-business.html 

Homemade Cream of Mushroom Soup

You can can top with each serving with some crisp crumbled or chopped bacon. 


Ingredients:

1 1/2 cups white mushrooms, chopped
1 1/2 cups cremini/baby bella mushrooms, chopped
1 medium onion, finely chopped
1 stalk celery, chopped
1 large garlic clove, mince
3 cups chicken broth (low sodium is fine)
1/4 cup white wine (not a sweet wine)  
3 to 4 tablespoons butter
4 to 5 tablespoons flour
1 can evaporated milk
(optional) 3 or 4 slices of crisp bacon, crumbled  
1/2 teaspoon salt (if your chicken broth has a high salt content, you can leave out this added salt) 
1 teaspoon black pepper

In a heavy duty pan, melt the butter over medium heat and add the chopped onion and celery, saute for a minute or two, then add the garlic, cook another minute, then set the heat to low, add the mushrooms, cook a further 4 to 5 minutes. At first, the mushrooms will look like a mountain, but they will cook down substantially. Sprinkle the flour over the mixture, stirring well to incorporate and to take the raw flour taste out (I used 4 tablespoons of flour, but I like mushroom soup very thick, so I added another tablespoon mixed with some of the canned milk. I put the milk/flour mix through a sieve, just in case there was any flour not mixed in). If you need to add a little more butter, do so, or add a little canola or regular oil. Gradually add the chicken broth, stirring constantly until the mixture simmers and thickens. Stir in the white wine, black pepper and salt (if using). Now stir in the canned milk, a little at a time (if you want the soup to be thicker, do as I noted above at this time. It will need to come to a simmer).  

With some crispy chopped bacon...

WORD HISTORY:
Moss-This word, distantly related to the noun "must" (grape juice, new wine; a Latin-derived word borrowed by many Germanic languages centuries ago), goes back to Indo European "meus," which meant, "wetness, dampness." This gave Old Germanic "musan," which meant, "bog, marsh;" and thus also, "moss" (plant growth in marshy areas). This gave Old English (Anglo-Saxon) "meos," which meant, "moss," and this then became "mosse," before the modern form. Other forms in the Germanic languages: German has "Moos," Low German has "Moss," West Frisian "moas," Dutch "mos," Danish has "mose" (meaning: marsh, bog, moor),^ Norwegian has "mose" (meaning: moss), Icelandic has "mosi" (moss), Swedish has "mossa."

^ The Germanic form also gave Old English "mos," which meant, "bog."