Chicken from Southern France: Chicken Provençal

The word "Provençal" tells us this dish is from the southeastern region of France, from "Provence," where the largest city is Marseille, and other well known cites are Toulon, Cannes and Nice. All of these cites are located along the Mediterranean Sea, although Provence also extends well inland. Italy is beyond the eastern border of Provence. Besides standard French, the language of Provence is Provençal, a dialect of the Latin-based Occitan languages, which include various southern French and Italian dialects and Catalan, spoken in the Catalonia region of eastern Spain. 

This is such a good dish. I used boneless/skinless chicken thighs for when I made the dish for this article, but you could certainly use chicken breast, and previously I've used chicken with the skin on. Please don't get all wound up about anchovy fillets in this dish. They will melt into the sauce and you will not experience the strong taste you recall from your first (and last) bite of anchovy pizza. Many recipes I've seen have far more garlic, like 8 to 12 cloves, so feel free to add more garlic. Serve with mashed potatoes and some good crusty bread.   

 

 

Ingredients (4 to 6 servings):

 

4 boneless, skinless chicken thighs, cut into four pieces each

3/4 teaspoon dried thyme, rub it with the thumb of one hand in the palm of the other hand

1/4 teaspoon dried rosemary, rub it as as thyme

3/4 teaspoon ground black pepper

3/4 teaspoon salt

2 tablespoon olive oil + 2 tablespoons butter (I use extra virgin olive oil)

4 garlic cloves, chopped

4 anchovy fillets

2/3 cup white wine

1/2 cup chicken stock

1 cup crushed tomatoes and juice

1/4 cup black olives (preferably Niçoise or Kalamata)

1/4 cup green olives (preferably Castelvetrano or Manzanilla)

3 tablespoons chopped fresh parsley

 

Add 2 tablespoons butter and 2 tablespoons olive oil to a skillet over medium heat. Season the chicken pieces well with salt, ground black pepper, dried thyme and dried rosemary. Put the seasoned chicken pieces into the butter/oil mixture and saute until they are lightly browned all over (be sure to turn the pieces often to prevent sticking and to prevent the chicken from developing tough and dried spots). Remove the chicken pieces to a plate temporarily. Lower the heat and add the garlic and anchovy fillets and saute for about a minute or so, then add the white wine and the chicken stock and bring the mixture to a simmer and let it cook for just 2 to 3 minutes (adjust the heat to maintain a gentle simmer). Stir in the tomatoes and juice and bring everything back to a simmer. Add the chicken pieces back to the skillet, then add the black and green olives. Let the chicken simmer for 10 to 12 minutes, basting it with the sauce a few times. Stir in the chopped parsley. After about 2 to 3 minutes, remove the skillet from the heat. Serve with mashed potatoes and some good crusty bread.  

 

 

WORD HISTORY:

Paradise-This is a compound word with the first part related, at least in part, to a huge number of words in English, including: "fore," "before," "forth" and "from," all from the Germanic roots of English, and to the first part of the following: "pardon," "perfect" and "permit," all Latin words borrowed by English via French, and to "percent," a word borrowed directly from Latin. This goes back to Indo European "per," which had the notion "in front of, forward, against, near." This gave Indo Iranian^ a transliterated form "pari," meaning "near, around, about." The second part of the word "paradise" is related to the first part of "dairy," from the Germanic roots of English (the ending, however, is from French/Latin), and to "dough," also from the Germanic roots of English. It goes back to Indo European "dheigh," which had the notion, "to shape, to form;" thus also, "to build, to knead." This gave Indo Iranian "dahyah," meaning, "wall," and together the parts gave the meaning "wall around;" thus, "an enclosure, a garden, a park" (from a verb like "paridahyiz," "to build or make a wall??"). Greek borrowed the compound word as transliterated "parádeisos," meaning, "walled garden or park," but it was used in the biblical religious sense for, "the Garden of Eden," but in New Testament passages it meant "heaven, the home of the blessed in the afterlife." Latin borrowed the word as "paradisus," also meaning "garden, park, orchard," but also with the 'heaven' meaning in Christianity. This passed into Latin-based Old French as "paradis," with the same religous meaning, and this was borrowed into late Old English (circa 1000?) as "paradis," which then became "paradys" and "paradise."     

 

^ Indo Iranian is a branch of the Indo European languages; thus, with its component languages being related to English, but further down the family tree. There are many, many Indo Iranian languages, some of which are: Hindi, Urdu, Bengali and Persian. 

Campari & White Wine Cocktail: Bicicletta

"Bicicletta" is Italian for "bicycle." Why this drink is called a "bicicletta" is unknown to me, although there is an apparent connection by the drink using 2 slices of orange to represent wheels. Campari is an herbal and fruit drink invented in Italy in the mid 1800s. It is red in color and bitter in taste. The "Bicicletta" is best served in a large cocktail or wine glass, but I don't have such glasses, so I improvised and used the best glass I have on hand. Just to clarify, this is not a small drink, but you could certainly adjust the ingredient amounts to fit a somewhat smaller glass. As for the wine, Pinot Grigio is easily available, and Frascati is also good and available in many stores and wine shops, but you can use any dry white wine you like.

While I knew of this cocktail beforehand, I used the recipe from: https://www.liquor.com

Ingredients (per drink):

3 ounces dry white wine (Pinot Grigio or Frascati are good)
2 ounces Campari
club soda to fill
orange slices for garnish
ice

In a large glass, add the white wine and the Campari, stir lightly. Add the orange slices and a little ice, then add club soda to fill.

I put a few ice cubes on the other side of the orange slices for the sake of the photos

WORD HISTORY:
Kite-The origin of this word is thought to come from the shrill and screeching sound made by some birds, and as such, it is hard to separate this word out from the various imitative sound words in other languages and dialects, not only in the other Germanic languages, but in other Indo European languages as well. The imitative sounds then were sometimes used to form the names of various birds associated with a particular sound. Old English had "cyta," the name for middle sized birds of prey, especially the Red Kite. This then became "kyte" and then "kite." Sometimes the word has been used for people who prey on others. By the 1600s, the word came to be used for "a device of cloth (later, often paper) over a lightweight wooden frame used for flying as a form of play and entertainment." This naturally came from this device's hovering and gliding in the air like a bird. Verbal use of the word developed from the noun from the idea of "something rising or soaring into the sky," or figuratively, like "rising prices" or "rising values on some object or property." Also by circa 1800, "fly a kite" was used to mean "a draft or check on a bank account that has insufficient funds to cover the amount at that time." "Go fly a kite" is an expression (from the 1840s?) meaning "to bluntly tell someone to leave you alone" (example: "The sophomore high school boy asked the popular senior girl to go to a movie, and she told him to 'go fly a kite.' " "Kite" has a relative in German "Kauz" (once spelled "kuze" and "kutz," and spelled "Chutz" in some Swiss German dialects), meaning "owl" (perhaps originally "screech owl," and German also has the synonym "Eule," the close relative of English "owl"); Low German had "kutz," but in modern times Low German relies upon the word "Uul," another relative of "owl."  

Chilean Sangria: Borgoña

"Borgoña" means "Burgundy" in Spanish, and in Chile their "Carménère" red wine is commonly used for this Chilean form of Sangria; so, if you have access to this wine, by all means, use it; otherwise, a Merlot or Cabernet Sauvignon will do just fine. While Borgoña is really a common summer drink in Chile, with the Christmas and New Year's holiday season upon us, why not try some now? For those unaware, since Chile is a South American country; and thus, in the Southern Hemisphere, countries in that hemisphere officially enter summer in December, just as we in the Northern Hemisphere officially enter winter in December. Cointreau and triple sec are orange flavored alcoholic products. In Chile, some use their own brandy called "Pisco." 

Ingredients:

1 bottle red wine (Merlot, Cabernet Sauvignon)
1 1/2 to 2 cups sliced or chopped fresh strawberries
1 to 2 tablespoons sugar (if your strawberries are super sweet, use 1 tablespoon sugar)
1/4 cup Cointreau or Triple Sec or Pisco
ice

Put the sliced/chopped strawberries into a bowl, add the sugar and mix to coat the berries. Add the Cointreau, Triple Sec or Pisco and let the berries sit in the refrigerator for about 30 minutes. Empty the wine into a pitcher, then stir in the strawberry mixture. Refrigerate the Borgoña for a minimum of 3 hours, but it is better if it is left in the refrigerator until the next day. Add some ice to each serving, especially in warm weather.

WORD HISTORY:
Alligator-The ultimate origin of the main part of this word is unknown. It goes back to Latin "lacertus," meaning "lizard." This gave Spanish "lagarto," with the grammatically masculine definite article being "el," which goes back to Latin "ille," meaning, "that one, he, she, it;" thus also, the definite article "the," which developed from Indo European "hol-no," meaning, "that, beyond this, beyond here, yonder." The Spanish form "el lagarto" was used to describe and to name the lizard like creature of the New World. In the second half of the 1500s, English speakers took the word as the misunderstood form "aligarto," then modified to "alligater," before the form that has endured up to modern times, "alligator," although the pronunciation by most English speakers is as if the ending is "ter," not "tor."   

Garlic Soup

I've seen some claims that garlic soups (various recipes) can "help" prevent some illnesses, like colds and influenza. Whether there is actually scientific evidence to support this line of claims, I don't really know, but if you like garlic, or if you have beliefs in garlic as a health supplement, this is a soup for you. Of course, since the garlic is cooked, the sharp taste of raw garlic isn't present, but you'll still get your garlic "fix," if that's one of your taste cravings. I've found that letting the soup cool, then refrigerating it until the next day gives it a more developed flavor. So all you have to do is to reheat the soup, which you can even easily do for just a bowl or two in your microwave. Note: You can use your own homemade chicken stock, or buy some form of canned or packaged chicken broth, some of which are available in reduced salt versions, and there are some powdered forms that are no salt, to which you simply add water. Unless you are on a severely restricted salt diet, if you use the no salt version, you will likely want to add at least some salt to the soup. I've suggested 1/2 teaspoon in the recipe, but I use chicken broth with salt, so I do not add this extra salt. I only add 1/4 teaspoon of salt to the garlic when sauteing it (see below).   

Ingredients:

30 to 35 whole cloves of garlic, skins removed, then slightly crushed
6 cups chicken stock/broth (homemade, canned, bouillon, or packaged)
1/4 cup white wine
2 large potatoes, peeled, chopped (naturally, the smaller you chop them, the faster they'll cook)
1 teaspoon black pepper
1/4 teaspoon salt, for sauteing the garlic
(optional) 1/2 teaspoon salt for the soup, but remember the chicken broth likely has salt, perhaps a lot
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 teaspoon dried thyme
1 teaspoon dried oregano
1 cup cream or evaporated milk
garnish with chopped chives and croutons

In a skillet, heat 2 tablespoons olive oil over low heat. Add the whole slightly crushed cloves of garlic and 1/4 teaspoon salt, then saute the garlic until it starts to lightly brown, stirring to keep it from burning or becoming too dark. This can take a little time. In a large sauce pan, add the chicken stock, wine, thyme, oregano, potatoes (also salt, if using), and the lightly browned garlic and the oil used for sauteing; bring to a good simmer and cook until the potatoes are tender. Either transfer to a blender or use a stick blender (also called an immersion blender). Blend until smooth, then, if using a regular blender, pour the soup back into the pan over low heat, then add the black pepper, and stir in the cream or milk. Let the soup heat up briefly, but do not boil. Serve with croutons and some chopped chives on top. 

WORD HISTORY:
Beaker-Although this word's origin is uncertain, it is related to "pitcher," a word borrowed by English from French and which has the rest of its known history matching that of "beaker." Its origin is thought by some to be Middle Eastern, as there are similar words from that area meaning, "vase, jug, container." The idea for supporters of this origin is that Ancient Greek borrowed the word as transliterated "bîkos," for "earthenware jug or container." Then Latin borrowed this term in a diminutive form as "bicarium," meaning, "wine jug or container." This was borrowed by some Germanic language, and passed to some other Germanic languages, but the exact process is unclear. Old High German has the word circa 1000, as "behhari," and meaning, "cup, wine goblet, jug, pitcher," and this then became "becher," and then modern "Becher" (cup, mug, tub) with a capital "B," as in modern German all nouns are capitalized. The thing is, other Germanic languages had forms around the same time as Old High German, and it's important to remember, the Germanic dialects that formed English, collectively called "Anglo-Saxon," had already left northwestern Europe by that time, and the Anglo-Saxons had long before firmly established themselves in the part of Britain named after the Angles, "England." So a form of the word was not taken with the Anglo-Saxons to Britain. English seems to have borrowed the word in the mid 1300s either from Old Norse "bikarr" (cup, drinking vessel), or from Dutch "beker" (cup, goblet). The most common meaning in modern English, "a round open mouthed glass container, without handles, used in science laboratories," developed in the second half of the 1800s.   

Portuguese Pork & Clams: Carne de Porco à Alentejana

This wonderful representative of Portuguese cuisine is really not hard to make, although it is not typically a dish to be made if you are in a hurry, as it "should" marinate for a number of hours before cooking. In her book, "Portuguese Homestyle Cooking," Ana Patuleia Ortins writes that the name of the dish implies its origin was in Alentejo, but that some believe it actually originated in the Algarve region, which is the southernmost region of mainland Portugal; and thus, bordering on the Atlantic Ocean, which makes seafood plentiful and a large part of the regional cuisine. Alentejo is just above the Algarve region, but Ana Patuleia Ortins does not give her opinion as to where this dish started. There are a number of variations to this dish and crisply fried diced potatoes are a common accompaniment, with some even adding potatoes to the dish itself. Traditionally it is made with lard, but some have switched over to making it with olive oil, so I compromised and made it with olive oil and some rendered pork fat. 

Ingredients:

1 to 1 1/4 pound pork, cut into bite size pieces
about 15 to 18 small fresh clams, shells cleaned.
3 to 4 cloves garlic, sliced
2 tablespoons olive oil (not extra virgin)
1 tablespoon rendered pork fat or lard
1/2 to 2/3 cup white wine
2 teaspoons sweet paprika (Spanish sweet paprika, if you have it; it's smoky)
1 large tomato, chopped
3 tablespoons piri piri Portuguese chili sauce (you can substitute Tabasco or Franks pepper sauce)*  
2/3 teaspoon white pepper (or black pepper)
1/2 teaspoon salt (later can add more to taste, if desired)

In a large bowl, add the pork pieces, sliced garlic, paprika, chili sauce, white pepper and salt. Cover and refrigerate for a minimum of 3 or 4 hours, although 8 to 10 hours is better, if possible. In a large skillet over medium heat, add the olive oil and pork fat or lard. Add the ingredients from the bowl and saute the pork, stirring and turning the pork pieces to lightly brown them. Add the chopped tomato pieces and white wine, reduce the heat to low and cover the skillet with a lid or aluminum foil; cook, stirring and turning the meat occasionally, until the pork is tender. Add the clams and cover the skillet again. Check after about 5 or 6 minutes. The clams should have opened; if not, give them another minute or two, and tap lightly on any that haven't opened, if they still do not open, then discard them. Serve with extra chili sauce on the side.  

* Long ago Portuguese explorers led to Portugal's involvement in parts of Africa, such as in what are modern Angola and Mozambique, for example. This brought about their attachment to a small African chili pepper commonly called "piri piri," which they then used to make a hot pepper sauce bearing the same name. It is a common condiment in Portuguese homes and restaurants, and also used as an ingredient in some Portuguese recipes. It is "similar" to Tabasco sauce or Frank's Red Hot Sauce. It is available in "some" parts of the United States where Portuguese immigrants established communities.    

I put the fried diced potatoes on the left side of the plate, but some serve the port and clams on top of the potatoes.

WORD HISTORY:  

Cuspidor-The main part of this word is distantly related to "spew" and to "spit," both words from the Germanic roots of English. It goes back to Indo European "spyu," which meant "to spit, to discharge fluid from the mouth." This gave Latin "spuere," which meant, "to spit." The first part of "cuspidor" goes back to Indo European "kom," which had the notion "by, with, near, beside." This gave Latin "com," and its variant form, "con," both meaning, "together, with," which were common prefixes, and at times used as prefixes of emphasis (intensification). Together the two parts gave Latin "conspuere," meaning, "to spit, to spit at or upon." This passed into Latin-based Portuguese as "cuspir," meaning, "to spit," and this produced the Portuguese noun "cuspideira," meaning, "a container for spitting;" thus, "a spittoon." This was borrowed by English in the 1700s, although it seems to have taken until the late 1700s to become more firmly established. 

Columbo Episode: Any Old Port in a Storm

"Columbo" was a television crime drama series set in Los Angeles, the original episodes of which were broadcast on NBC. The show was revived later with new episodes and broadcast on ABC. The basic format of the series was that the audience was shown who the killer was right in the first few minutes of the episode, as the crime was being committed. The crux of the show was HOW Lieutenant Columbo, an expert, but somewhat eccentric, Los Angeles Police Department detective, would catch the killer.* The killers were not people from Skid Row (hic... 'scuse me!), but rather from the upper levels of society (hic... 'scuse me again!). This episode has always been a favorite of mine, certainly helped along in that regard because it featured English actor Donald Pleasence, a favorite actor of mine; and, because the story had a good deal about wine (hic... damn I can't stop! Maybe some Chianti will help?). The episode was first televised in 1973.

Main Cast for this episode:

Peter Falk: Los Angeles Police Detective Columbo
Donald Pleasence: Adrian Carsini
Julie Harris: Karen Fielding
Gary Conway: Rick Carsini
Joyce Jillson: Joan, Rick Carsini's fiancée
Vito Scotti: Maitre d'
Monty (Monte) Landis: Wine steward


Adrian and Rick Carsini are half brothers. The family has been in the wine business for many years, and when their father died, he left Rick the land on which the vineyards and the winery had been built, but he left Adrian the money he had saved. The two men are very different, with Rick liking parties, scuba diving, sports cars and women, and Adrian liking wine, including the collecting of wines from various eras, some of which are very expensive. He also demands that the winery make high quality wine, some of which is not even sold to the public, but rather kept for private use. Adrian has a pretty serious personality. Rick's lifestyle leads him to need money at times, and he and Adrian clash over it. Karen is Adrian's long time secretary.

One Sunday, as Adrian prepares to fly to a wine auction in New York City, he meets with three other wine lovers from the wine industry. Rick goes to Adrian's office because he needs some money, as he is planning to get married in Acapulco, Mexico; his fourth marriage. Adrian wants his guests to try a special wine he has for them, but when he goes to his office to get it, Rick is there waiting to ask for the money. The two exchange some barbs, but the real crux of the matter is when Rick tells Adrian that he is going to sell the land to another wine producing family, the Marino brothers, a family detested by snobbish Adrian, because they produce cheap wine; "the 69 cents a gallon Marino brothers," Adrian calls them. Just for perspective, in 1973, you could buy a glass of beer in many neighborhood bars for about 10 to 15 cents. Adrian tells Rick that the Marinos don't really make wine, "they don't even make good mouthwash," but Rick counters with, "But they make money!" He recounts how Adrian has spent loads of money on fancy bottles of wine he will never drink. The heated exchange and Rick's plan to sell the land to the Marino brothers brings Adrian to pick up an object and hit Rick over the head, knocking him unconscious. Adrian takes the wine to go out to his guests, but Karen comes in. She tells him that she sees Rick's car out front, but Adrian says Rick went to another part of the winery, and he quickly tells her to go pack more clothing, as they will be staying in New York longer than first anticipated. Adrian later returns and drags Rick into the climate controlled wine vault, where he binds and gags Rick, then switches off the air conditioning system. Since he will be driving his own car to the airport, he puts Rick's car into his garage. He and Karen leave for the airport to fly to the wine auction. On the plane, Adrian tells Karen to send Rick a wedding gift of $5000, a pretty decent sum of money in 1973 (between $28,500 and $29,500 in 2019 value. Everything between Adrian and Karen is very proper, and it's tough to imagine Carsini could ever love anything but wine, although there are little moments where Karen seems to want more than a purely secretary-boss relationship. 

At the auction, Adrian spends thousands of dollars, including $5000 for ONE BOTTLE! As the plane lands back in Los Angeles, Karen asks Adrian if he will need a ride, but he tells her he brought his car. He asks if she brought her car, and she answers that she didn't, "I'll take a cab," to which Adrian says, "Right." She looks a bit hurt.** When Adrian returns home, he goes to the wine vault where Rick is dead. He takes his body and puts scuba diving gear onto it, then he puts the body into Rick's sports car, loads a bicycle into the trunk, and he drives to the coast, where he tosses the body over a cliff and into the Pacific. He uses the bicycle to return home. Rick's fiancée has already gone to the Los Angeles police to report Rick missing, but she ends up talking with Detective Columbo, who is a homicide detective. Columbo likes her, but he doesn't seem to give the case high priority. Then later, Columbo goes to the coast after a report of a body being found. Rick's car is still there. Columbo is told on the scene that it is Rick's body, and he feels badly for the girl, but he's also told that it's an apparent accident, and that while scuba diving, Rick hit his head on a rock, knocking him unconscious, and his oxygen ran out. At that point, it "seems" Rick's death is accidental. Later, as Columbo sits in a bar watching the 11 o'clock news, the story about Rick's death comes on with a detail that Rick died 6 days before. In typical fashion for Columbo, he goes to the pay phone and calls for information to find out if it had rained on the day of Rick's death, but he's told there won't be any one available to help him until the next day, from 9 a.m. to 5 p.m. Soooo, Columbo hangs up the phone and simply announces loudly, "Excuse me!" The people in the bar look toward him and he asks his question about rain on that one day. No one can answer. 

The next day Columbo goes to the winery, and before going in to see Adrian, he uses a phone to call about the weather info. We don't actually know what he's told, but he's very happy as he makes a note on his little note pad (a regular part of Columbo's routine when investigating). He meets Adrian's secretary, Karen Fielding, and she directs Columbo to the lab, where Adrian is talking with one of the lab people. *** Columbo and Adrian go to Adrian's office. Carsini gives Columbo some wine and the detective asks some questions, but along with Karen's help, he finds out that Adrian had been in New York City when Rick died. We do learn the weather information Columbo sought for the day Rick died, which included showers and even heavy rain. Columbo wonders why no one reported seeing the flashy sports car sitting there on the coast for several days, and why Rick would leave the top down when he went scuba diving on a day when it rained. Columbo had left the winery number if there was information from the medical examiner, and as he prepares to leave a call comes telling him that Rick had not eaten for 2 days prior to his death. Karen hears Columbo's side of the brief conversation, but Columbo repeats some of what he's being told.

Columbo talks with two of the men who were at the winery the day Adrian left for New York City. He finds that Adrian left the presence of the men for a while. He then goes to a wine expert to learn the basics about wine, including about Carsini's wines. Off he goes to the winery again, where he impresses Adrian with his newly acquired knowledge of wine. He then comments that he learned about wine used for investments. Carsini tells him about the $5000 bottle of wine and Columbo asks if he can see some of the expensive wines Carsini has. Adrian takes him into the wine vault and explains that he uses the air conditioning to prevent the wine from overheating on hot days. Columbo asks to use the phone and he goes and calls his wife to find out some details about a recent unusually hot day. He also asks Adrian how someone would get out of the vault, if locked in, but Adrian assures him the door only locks from the outside. To prove it to Columbo, Carsini leaves him in the vault and goes out and closes the door. Columbo easily gets out. As the two men walk to Columbo's car, Carsini asks when his brother's body will be released, and Columbo tells him the police haven't released the body because Rick's car had been out on the coast for all of those days and it rained, but there were no watermarks on the car. Carsini has been gradually getting more concerned by Columbo, but this makes him realize there are flaws in how he tried to cover up the murder.

Columbo goes to Karen's residence and asks her about the day she and Adrian left for New York City, and if she saw Rick come and leave. Karen lies and answers that she had seen Rick come in and then leave. Columbo now assures her that he's "wrapping up the case." He uses her telephone to call Adrian to apologize to him and to invite him and Karen to dinner at a fancy restaurant the next night. Always the master of making people feel uncomfortable about false testimony, Columbo leaves her apartment, "apparently satisfied," but then taps on her window to ask her how long she has worked for Adrian. She answers "12 years." Columbo comments that "you must like him very much." As was his intention, his question and remark leave her wondering if he really meant he was "wrapping up the case." But there's still the expensive dinner, right?

Adrian takes Karen in his car as they go off to meet Columbo for dinner. Carsini tells Karen how they've always been very proper in their behavior with one another, and how she always calls him, "Mr. Carsini." So he says that she can call him "Adrian" for the evening, and perhaps even beyond. They meet Columbo at the restaurant and have their dinner. Carsini tells Columbo again how impressed he is by the detective's quick learning about wine and by Columbo's great selections of wine for the dinner so far. Now for dessert and Columbo's selection of a dessert wine. He calls over the wine steward and tells him he wants a bottle of "Ferrier Vintage Port, 1945." Carsini openly says that it's highly doubtful the wine steward has such a rare wine in the restaurant's wine cellar, but after a short wait, the wine steward arrives and says, "We had one bottle." He pours a glass for Columbo, who likes it and who says in his working guy way, "Drinks all around." Carsini is totally excited to try the wine, but when he takes a sip, he turns surly, saying, "This is dreadful," and he goes on to say that the wine has been exposed to a temperature over 150 degrees; and thus, it is spoiled. He loudly admonishes the wine steward, bringing the maitre d' to the table, who also then bears a further outburst from Carsini. The check is forgiven and the trio go outside where Columbo and Carsini discuss the wine and heat a little further. Columbo now drops a remark certain to catch Carsini's attention. He mentions that when Adrian and Karen were in New York City, the temperature one day in Los Angeles shot up to 109 degrees, and that he and his family had to return early from a picnic, due to the extreme heat. Carsini obviously takes note. Then Columbo drops another bomb. He thanks Karen for helping him close the case on Rick's death by telling him that she saw Rick come to, and then leave, the winery on the Sunday she and Adrian left for New York. As Adrian and Karen prepare to leave in his car, he asks her why she lied to Columbo. She tells him, "I thought I was helping you." Eventually she tells Carsini she is now his "partner," and that she wants "more than $700 a month and 2 weeks paid vacation," and that if Adrian did kill his brother, she understands, because Rick wanted to take away "the only thing you've ever loved." Carsini has many things going through his mind and he tells her they'll talk more the next day.

Carsini goes to the wine vault and assembles the many valuable bottles of wine. He takes the wines to the coast and begins tossing them into the ocean. When he returns to his car for more wine, Columbo is there waiting. At first Carsini tries lying, but Columbo has him. The detective tells Carsini that the one super hot day did him in, as, with the air conditioning turned off in the wine vault, the temperature in the vault soared upward over 150 degrees and ruined Carsini's wine collection. He tells Carsini further, that the day he was left alone in the wine vault very briefly, he took a bottle of wine... a bottle of, "Ferrier Vintage Port, 1945." So, it was Carsini's own bottle of wine that he himself declared to be spoiled; oxidized by the heat. Columbo had had the wine steward cooperate about the bottle of port. Columbo tells Carsini that he deliberately mentioned the 109 degree day as they were leaving the restaurant, because he knew it would get Carsini's attention, and that he would likely dispose of the ruined wine. Carsini mentions the irony to it all, as he says that he is one of the few people in the world who could have determined that the port was bad from overheating. Carsini says he'll confess and he tells Columbo how Karen has been "turning the screws" on him. In an absolutely great scene, Columbo takes Carsini back to the winery and stops the car. He reaches to the back seat and brings out a bottle of wine, "Montefiascone," which Carsini says is appropriate for the final course. Columbo has two wine glasses and the men have a glass of wine together. There's no hatred between them.

* The Columbo character became known and loved for his rather basic working guy ways. His tie was often crooked, he wore an old wrinkled raincoat, he smoked (or sometimes chewed on) cigars, much to the dismay of many around him, and he drove a late 1950s gray Peugeot automobile, which sputtered at times, and which badly needed a paint job, at the very least. In this episode, in fact, Columbo proudly tells a valet parking attendant, "I've got over a hundred thousand miles on it. You take care of your car, it'll take care of you." In those times, 100,000 miles was considered a major milestone in the life of a car. And by the way, the attendant has trouble starting the car to park it. The car and its owner go together.                     

** As I mentioned, at times Karen seems to want more from Adrian than her relationship with him as his secretary. She handles many of his personal affairs, and she even carries his checkbook. Remember too, Adrian tells Karen to send his brother a $5000 check. We eventually learn that Karen makes $700 a month, and 2 weeks paid vacation. Karen has also been witness to Adrian's extravagant spending on expensive wines. This by a person who makes $700 a month.     

*** The lab technician is played by Rand Brooks, a well known face, if not necessarily a well known name, as he played Scarlett O'Hara's first husband, Charles Hamilton, in 1939's "Gone With the Wind." When I was a kid in the 1950s, Brooks played in the television series "The Adventures of Rin Tin Tin," about a boy and his German Shepherd dog at Fort Apache in the Old West.

Photo is from the Universal Home Entertainment Season 3 DVD 

WORD HISTORY:
Any-This little word has a number of meanings, depending upon usage. Like many of its Germanic relatives, it often means "one" or "some." While this might seem strange to modern English speakers, this word literally meant "one-y" in Old English, and was spelled "aenig." It was simply formed by "aen," meaning "one," and "ig," a common Germanic suffix, which eventually in English morphed into a "y" sound. It goes back to Indo European "oinos," which meant, "one, singe, individual," which gave Old Germanic "ainagas," meaning, "one only, of one." This then gave Old English (Anglo-Saxon) "aenig," as mentioned above. Old Saxon, the part of the Germanic Saxon dialect that remained on the Continent (its other part sailed with the Saxons who went to Britain and combined with other Germanic dialects there to form English), had "enig," and Old Frisian, another Germanic dialect closely related to English, had "enich." Old English "ænig" then became "eny," before moving to the spelling "any," but English kept the pronunciation "eny" as the pronunciation! German has "einig" (meaning "some, any"), but it was once spelled "einic," but like English with "eny" and "any," some German dialects have "eenich," while others have "aanich." German also has the compound "einigermaßen," the adverbial use of which means, "somewhat, to some measure or extent," Low German has "enig," Frisian no longer commonly uses a form of the word, but some Frisian speakers apparently still use "eenich/ienich," Dutch has "enig," Old Norse had "einigr," but its  descendants didn't continue with forms of the word, except Icelandic, which has (had?) "einigur," which "seemingly" is antiquated.  

Beef & French Onion Sauce

The key to this dish is to get the onions nicely browned and caramelized, as this will give the sauce a great taste. You can cook the steaks as rare, or as well done, as you'd like.

Serve with toasted slices of French baguette 

Ingredients:

4 beef tenderloin steaks, 4 ounces each
2 large onions, thinly sliced
1 bay leaf
2 cups sliced cremini mushrooms 
1 cup beef stock
1/3 cup white wine
1 heaping teaspoon dried thyme
2 tablespoons butter (divided use)
2 tablespoons oil (olive, vegetable or canola)
1 to 2 tablespoons flour
1 1/4 teaspoon ground black pepper (divided use)
1/2 to 1 teaspoon salt, to taste (if the beef stock is salty, you can certainly cut down of the amount of salt)
1/3 cup shredded Swiss cheese

Heat a large heavy bottomed skillet or pan over medium heat. Add 2 tablespoons oil, then add the sliced onions. Toss the onions in the oil and let them cook until they soften and begin to brown. Sprinkle the sugar over the onions, stir and continue to cook the onions until they are browned and sweetened by caramelization. Add one tablespoon of butter and the mushrooms. Add the thyme and sprinkle the flour over the onion and mushroom mixture, then stir to mix. Add the bay leaf and 1/4 teaspoon black pepper. Gradually stir in the beef stock and then the white wine. Turn the heat to low and let the mixture simmer and thicken a little. Meanwhile, in a large skillet, melt 1 tablespoon butter over medium heat (you can always add more butter or even oil, if needed). Season the steaks on both sides with salt and pepper. Add steaks to the skillet and cook about 3 to 6 minutes per side, depending on how well done you want each steak, then add each steak to the simmering sauce, and turn off the heat (remove the bay leaf). Toast some slices of good bread (baguettes are good for this) and place a steak and some sauce on serving plates, followed with a piece of toast on top of each steak, and sprinkle a little shredded cheese over the toast, followed by a little of the sauce on the cheese.  

WORD HISTORY:
Loin-This word is related to "lumbar" and to "lumbago," both of which are Latin-derived words borrowed by English. "Loin" goes back to Indo European "lendh," which meant, "area of the waist, loin, kidney." This gave its Old Germanic offspring "lendi," with the same meanings. This gave Old English (Anglo-Saxon) "lenden," meaning, "loin" ("lendenu"=plural, "loins"), and this then became "lende." Latin had "lumbus" (loin, hip), but it is unclear if this came from a form of Latin's immediate ancestor "Italic," with that form presumed to have been "londwos," or whether Latin may have rendered their own form from another language group, with Germanic being a prime possibility. Old French, a Latin-based language, had the word passed on as "loigne/lombes," ("loin, hip, lower back, lower torso/loins"). English borrowed the word, initially as "loyne/loine," and it overtook the native word, "lende," as the main word, although "lende" became "lend" (nothing to do with the more common word of that spelling), and it remains as a dialect word in parts of England and Scotland. Its Germanic relatives are German "Lende/Lenden" (loin/loins), Low German "Lenn/Lennen" (body area around the hip/hips), Dutch "lende/lenden" (loin, lower back/loins), Swedish "länd/länder" (lower back/loins), Icelandic "lendir" (loins), Danish "lænd(e)/lænder" (loin/loins), Norwegian "lend" (loins).       

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." 

Spanish White Wine Sangria

Besides the traditional Spanish red wine beverage "Sangria," along came a white wine version. Most recipes say to use a dry white wine like Sauvignon Blanc or Pinot Grigio, but I've used Moscato and it was great.

Ingredients:

1 bottle white wine
1 cup apple juice
1/2 lemon, sliced
1/2 cup strawberries, quartered
1 cup peach, chopped
1 cup apple, chopped (I use a green colored apple, and I leave the peel on)
1 cup pear, chopped
1/2 cup sugar
1 or 2 leafy sprigs of mint
(optional) 1/4 to 1/2 cup apple brandy or apple schnapps
ice

In a pitcher, add the strawberries, the peach, the apple, the pear, the mint, then squeeze a little of the juice from the lemon slices on top (this will stop the apple from starting to turn brown), then add the actual lemon slices, then sprinkle the sugar on top. Let the fruit sit for about 10 minutes (the fruit will start to release juice), then add the apple juice and the wine. Stir well and refrigerate for a few hours. Add the brandy or schnapps and stir again before serving in glasses with some ice cubes in each glass.

WORD HISTORY:
Prose-This word is formed with the fairly common Latin prefix "pro," meaning "in front, before, forward," which is related, through Indo European, to English "fore" and the prefix "for-," which are original English terms from its Germanic roots. The other part of the word goes back to Indo European "wer," which meant, "bend, twist," which makes it a relative to original English word "warp," a word from the Germanic roots of English. The Indo European form gave Latin "vertere," which meant, "to turn." Its participle form "vorsus" ("turned") was combined with the prefix to produce, "provorsus," meaning, "moving straight on or ahead," perhaps from the idea of moving forward after a turn or change? This produced "prorsus," which meant, "direct, straight forward," a form of which was "prorsa," which produced the shorter form "prosa," with the same meaning. This term was paired as "prosa oratio," meaning, "direct or straightforward speech." The word "prosa" passed into Latin-based French as "prose," meaning, "speech or written language without poetry;" that is, "straightforward speech, commonplace speech or writing." This was borrowed into English in the first half of the 1300s.  

Sangria, A Refreshing Drink Of Spain & Portugal

Sangria is a Spanish and Portuguese drink of wine (originally red wine) with fruit or fruit peel, as well as sugar, added. There are variations of ingredients, including the addition of brandy or rum, or sometimes also cachaça in Portugal.* Since the wine will be flavored with other ingredients, I suggest you choose a wine of  modest price, and if you want authenticity, use a Spanish "rioja," but a cabernet sauvignon or a merlot, both easily available, would be just fine. You certainly can vary the amount of sugar to your own taste  

Ingredients:

1 bottle red wine
1 lemon, sliced
1/2 orange, seeded, chopped with rind
1/2 peach, peeled, pitted and chopped
6 to 8 seedless red grapes, halved 
1/2 cup fresh orange juice
4 tablespoons sugar
ice
(optional) Triple Sec or Cointreau (these are orange flavored liqueurs)*

In a pitcher, add all ingredients, except the wine and ice. Mix everything together well, and you needn't be gentle in your stirring of the fruit, as extracting a bit of juice and softening the fruit so that it emits more juice into the wine will only make for a better sangria. Cover the pitcher and let it sit for about 30 minutes. Add the wine and the ice and stir well. For those who like it with more alcohol, when serving, you can add a small amount of Triple Sec or Cointreau to each glass, then pour in the Sangria and stir. If everyone prefers more alcohol, you can just stir a 1/4 to 1/2 cup of Triple Sec or Cointreau right into the sangria. 

* Cachaça is a rum-like alcoholic beverage made from sugarcane in Brazil. Brazil was once a colony of Portugal. Cachaça is the main ingredient in Brazil's well known "caipirinha cocktail." 

** Cointreau is from France and is 40% alcohol (80 proof) and Triple Sec was originally produced in France, but it is now produced by distilleries outside of France, including in the United States. The alcohol content varies, but it is usually between 30% and 40%, depending upon brand. 

WORD HISTORY:
Peach-The ultimate origin of this word is uncertain, and no one theory has exactly convinced me. It goes back to transliterated Ancient Greek "mêlon persikón," which meant, "Persian apple." The peach tree was brought to Persia from China, thus giving the Greeks the association of the tree and fruit with Persia. This was borrowed by Latin as "malum persicum," which later became just, "persica," which then became "pessica," meaning "peach," or "peach tree." This then became "pesca" in Latin, and passed into French, a Latin-based language, as "pesche." English borrowed the word as "peche," in the early 1400s, although there may have been some use of the word even about a century earlier.

German Rabbit: Hasenpfeffer in a Crock-pot

 This is undoubtedly thought of as a cool or cold weather dish, but hey, I had a frozen rabbit I wanted to use, so here we go...

Germans have a long history of preparing rabbit,* with their most famous dish being "Hasenpfeffer," a dish of hare/rabbit marinated in vinegar, wine and seasonings, which is then usually braised on the stove top, or baked, but a crock-pot is ideal for this. As with all popular dishes, there are variations in the recipes, at times reflecting regional preferences, as "some" Germans, for example, add ground paprika, a seasoning they picked up from the Hungarians.** Some add smoked bacon or unsmoked pork belly,*** while hunting families often use the blood of the rabbit in the cooking process, although  blood sausage (German: "Blutwurst") is often substituted. Some use white wine, some add egg yolks and others add red currant jelly or jam. Some of these dishes are not called "Hasenpfeffer," but rather  they are called by regional dialectal names. In Hessen, Pfalz (Palatinate) and the Rhineland, a variation is called "Dippehas" (pronounced, "dippeh-hahz"), which means, "pot or jug (ged) hare," where the rabbit or hare is cooked in a (non reactive) metal or crock ware pot with a tight fitting lid. Traditionally, the lid of the pot is only opened when the cooked rabbit is brought to the table, thus dispensing the wonderful aroma to the assembled diners. "Dippe" is a dialect word for "pot." In the Black Forest area (German: Schwarzwald), another similar dish is called "Eingemachter Haas" ("put up**** or preserved hare," and "Haas" is the dialect spelling of standard German "Hase"). By the way, German has an expression that is equivalent to English, "That's the fly in the ointment," or, "That's the fly in the buttermilk," which sort of ties in with this recipe: "Da liegt der Hase im Pfeffer," which literally means, "There lies the hare in the pepper," but the real meaning of which, like it's English cousin, is: "there is a problem that spoils the whole plan or course of action in some issue," as there is no escape for a rabbit, once it's in the pepper. 


Ingredients:

1 rabbit/hare, cut up
flour, seasoned with salt and pepper to coat the rabbit pieces
2 1/2 cups red wine
3/4 cup cup red wine vinegar
1 cup beef broth
2 carrots, sliced or chopped
1 medium onion, chopped
1 large garlic clove, minced or finely chopped
1  3 to 4 inch piece of pork belly (non smoked) 
2  half inch slices of blood sausage
2 teaspoons dried thyme
3/4 teaspoon ground cloves
10 peppercorns, slightly crushed
2 bay leaves
6 to 8 juniper berries, slightly crushed
1/2 teaspoon salt (can be omitted or use just a pinch, if the beef broth is high salt content)
1 tablespoon chopped parsley
2/3 cup sour cream
3 to 5 tablespoons flour mixed with equal amount of water
2 or 3 tablespoons canola oil or other neutral oil

In a non reactive container, add the wine, the red wine vinegar, the beef broth, the carrots, the garlic and the onion. Place the rabbit pieces into the dish, making certain the pieces are all covered by the marinade (add more wine, if necessary). Cover and refrigerate for 2 days, turning the rabbit pieces once or twice a day. After 2 days, remove the rabbit pieces (they will be purplish in color), pat them dry and lightly coat each piece with seasoned flour. Reserve the marinade. Heat the oil in a skillet over medium heat. Brown the flour coated rabbit pieces in the hot oil. To your crock pot/slow cooker, add the reserved marinade, the pork belly piece (left whole), the blood sausage slices (left whole), the thyme, the cloves, the peppercorns, the juniper berries, the bay leaves, the parsley and the salt (if using). Stir to mix, then add the browned rabbit pieces. The rabbit will likely be covered or just about covered by the marinade and seasoning mixture, but if not completely covered, that should happen as it cooks. Cook on "high" for one hour, then reduce to "low," cook a further 5 to 7 hours.

Try to carefully remove the rabbit pieces and the pork belly. I took the rabbit meat off of the bones. Strain the broth. I picked through the strained out items and took out the blood sausage (which will have "melted down" a good bit) and carrots and added them to the rabbit (the blood sausage can now be chopped). I then discarded the other strained out vegetables and seasonings (there were also a couple of small rabbit bone pieces). Put the broth into a sauce pan and heat to a simmer. Gradually whisk the flour mix into the hot liquid, whisking constantly, until the sauce reaches the thickness you desire. Cook for another minute or two, then remove the sauce from the heat for a few minutes before whisking in the sour cream. Serve with noodles or spaetzle (German: "Spätzle") and whole berry cranberry sauce (or lingonberry jam).    

* The German word "Hase" is the relative of English "hare," and indeed, a hare and a rabbit are closely related, with a few differences, although I dare say, most of us in the general public cannot tell anyone even one of the differences. I wonder if Bugs Bunny knows the difference?

** Hungary is famous for its paprika. I knew a Hungarian couple and they used ground paprika in everything. The wife was an immigrant to the United States as a teenager in the 1920s, and the husband was born in the U.S., not long after his parents arrived here.

*** Rabbit/hare is pretty lean, so my guess is, that's probably one of the reasons why the Germans add a little "fatty" meat, either bacon or pork belly. Hey, if you hopped around all day, you'd be pretty lean too. "Do the bunny hop... hop, hop, hop!"  

**** Since I have many readers from a wide variety of countries, many of whom are learning English, while others may not always understand every expression, the term "put up" has several meanings, but in the usage here, it refers to "food items put into sealed containers to prevent spoilage, and thus are able to be stored for later use." A closely related term by meaning is, "canned," although it doesn't mean the storage container is necessarily made of metal; as in fact, home "canning" (the noun for the process) is overwhelmingly done by using glass jars with lids that seal in the content.     

Hasenpfeffer with noodles/sauce and lingonberry jam.

WORD HISTORY:
Strain (#1)-There is more than one word of this spelling in English, but this is the noun meaning, "breed or kind of a living organism," often, but not exclusively, used nowadays in reference to bacteria or viruses, as in, "This year's flu is from an especially nasty strain of the flu virus." It is distantly related to "strew,'' a native English word from its Germanic roots, and it goes back to Indo European "streh/struh," which meant, "spread out, scatter about." This was a derivative of Indo European "stereh," which meant, "to spread, to stretch out." This gave its Old Germanic offspring "streunan," meaning, "to heap up, to gain, to acquire," which produced the noun, "streunam" ("a heap, an acquisition"). This gave Old English the noun "streon," ^ meaning, "a gain (thus also, wealth), an acquisition." From this emerged the idea of "producing, generating;" thus, "having, adding offspring," which further became, "a breed or kind of offspring." This produced "strynd," meaning, "kin, tribe." This seems to have eventually melded with "streon" to become "streen," then "strene," before the modern form with the long "a" sound.

^ It also produced "gestreon," which meant, "a business or trade gain;" thus, "a profit." 

Poached Salmon

This is a good and easy way to cook salmon. Once the cooking liquid is prepared, you're just minutes away from great food.

Ingredients:

4   5 to 6 ounce salmon fillets (boneless, skinless)
1/2 cup dry white wine
1 cup onion, chopped
1/2 lemon, sliced
1 teaspoon salt (for water)
salt to season each fillet
1/4 teaspoon black or white pepper
butter
freshly cut chives

To a large skillet, add 6 cups water, onion, white wine, lemon, pepper and salt. Bring to a boil and cook ingredients for 5 to 6 minutes. Reduce heat so that the water is at a gentle simmer. Sprinkle a little salt on each salmon fillet. Add salmon to the simmering water and cook for 5 to 8 minutes (depending upon the thickness of the fillets), remove salmon to paper towels just to drain excess water. Top each fillet with thin slices of butter and a sprinkle of freshly cut chives (I use scissors to cut them).

I had my poached salmon with fried potatoes and a little garnish of parsley and cilantro...

WORD HISTORY:
Scale-English has more than one word of this spelling, but this is the noun, and the derived verb, for "protective covering for fish," and, "flakes of dried skin." This word is very closely related to "shell" and to "scale;" that is, the word of the same spelling, but meaning, "a device for weighing." This form of the word goes back to Indo European "skel," which had the notion "to cut, to split, to chip." This gave Old Germanic the root "skal/skel," with the meaning, "to split, to divide," and which gave forms that became the basis of "shell" (covering for sea creatures or land animals, or for the eggs of various creatures," "scale," "the split shells of certain sea creatures used for food or drink, and also used as a dish or tray to hold objects to be weighed," and "scale," the covering for fish and flakes of skin." Old Germanic gave Frankish, a Germanic dialect/language, "skala," with the meaning, "husk, shell," and this passed into Old French as "escale," which meant, "pod shell, husk and hardened covering," later specifically, "hardened skin." This was borrowed by English in the early part of the 1300s with the "hardened skin" meaning, which by then also meant, "hardened bits of protective skin for fish and some other creatures." The verb, meaning, "to strip the scales from fish," came from the noun in the early 1400s.

Portuguese-Style Beef Pot Roast/Stew (Alcatra)

This very easily prepared Portuguese recipe, called "Alcatra" ("rump steak") in Portuguese, is from the Azores (Portuguese: Açores, see Word History below), more particularly from the island of Terceira, one of the nine islands in the Atlantic that form the Azores, which lie more than 800 miles from mainland Portugal. The Azores compose a part of the Portuguese Republic. I read over a number of recipes for this dish and some called for white wine, some for red wine and some had either. I used white wine, because I already had a bottle! The next time, I will use red wine. All but one recipe used either chuck roast or rump roast, which was then cut into chunks, but the one used already cut stewing meat, and that's what I chose to use also. From what I read, rice is often served with this dish, although a couple of recipes served it with potatoes cooked with the meat, including one that kept the skins on. The dish is traditionally cooked in a clay pot in Portugal. As I've noted many times before, I'm a mashed potatoes guy, so that's what I had with this beef dish.  

Ingredients:

4 pounds beef stewing meat chunks
5 strips thick sliced bacon, cut into smaller pieces (you can trim some of the fat off, if you'd like)
2 large onions, sliced
5 cloves garlic, chopped
1 tablespoon olive oil (not extra virgin)
2 bay leaves
1 teaspoon ground cloves
10 black peppercorns
2 teaspoons salt
3 1/2 cups white (or red) wine
2 tablespoons butter
water, as needed (or enough to cover, see below)

Heat oven to 375 F. Use the olive oil to coat the bottom of the pan or ovenproof dish you will be using. Add the pieces of beef, bacon, onion and garlic. Mix things around, so that the bacon, onion and garlic mix in with the beef. Add the bay leaves, the ground cloves, the peppercorns and the salt, then pour in the wine, and add water to make sure the beef is covered. Float the butter on top. Cover and bake for one hour fifteen minutes, then reduce heat to 325 F, bake until meat is tender, likely "at least" another 90 minutes, but well worth the wait, even if it takes two more hours. You can take the lid off for the last half hour or so of cooking, if you'd like, even if the meat is no longer covered in liquid. 

WORD HISTORY:
Azores-This word for the Portuguese islands in the Atlantic, the first part of which is distantly related to "edge," with the second part distantly related to "feather,'' with a closer relationship to "pen" (writing implement), goes back to Indo European "ak," which had the notion of "sharp, pointed." This gave Latin "acies," meaning, "point, edge," which provided a form for the first part of Latin "accipiter," which meant "hawk." The second part of "accipiter" goes back to Indo European "pethr/pethn," which meant "feather." This gave Italic "petn," meaning "feather, wing feather," and this provided Latin with the "piter" part of "accipiter." This gave Portuguese "açor," meaning, "hawk, goshawk" (a more specific type of bird of prey, literally, "goosehawk"). The plural in Portuguese, "açores," came to be applied to the islands in the 1500s, "supposedly" because the birds were often seen there. This was borrowed by English with the spelling "Azores."   

Shrimp with Chilies and Wine

So simple! Great appetizer or even the basis of a light lunch.


INGREDIENTS:

1 pound medium shrimp, peeled and deveined, or tail on
2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
1 to 2 tablespoons fresh chopped chili pepper or chili flakes, or dried chilies (to taste) *
1 tablespoon dark chili powder + more to garnish
4 cloves of garlic, chopped
1/4 cup white wine (dry or medium dry)
1/2 teaspoon seasoned salt

Heat the oil in a large skillet over medium heat. Add the chili pepper or flakes and cook for 45 seconds. Add the garlic, cook for one minute, then add the wine. Add the shrimp and sprinkle in the chili powder, stir. Turn the shrimp as needed to cook them through, which should only take a couple of minutes. Remove the shrimp from the pan when the shrimp are cooked, or they will become tough. Serve the "broth" on the side as a dipping sauce. Sprinkle on a little chili powder for garnish.

* If you don't like much "heat," just use a teaspoon of chili flakes

WORD HISTORY: 
Shell-This word is distantly related to "skill," as the underlying meaning of "skill" is, "capability that distinguishes; that is, separates, it from others." "Shell" goes back to the Old Germanic root "skal/skel," meaning "to separate, divide." This came from the Indo European root "skel," which meant "to cut, cleave" (you get the notion: "cut, cleave," to "separate, divide."). The Germanic form gave Old English (Anglo-Saxon) "sciell/scill," and the Anglian dialect had "scell," all meaning "seashell and eggshell." Old English also had the related "scealu," which meant "shell or husk." The idea in all cases was, "a covering that splits off or separates." The word then became "schelle/shelle," before the modern version. The verb form, meaning, "to remove the shell from nuts," came from the noun, but it did not become common until the mid 1500s! The other Germanic languages have various forms, often with a variety of meanings, so it is difficult to sort them out; after all, the word "scale" (from a fish) is also closely related, and the use for the word "shell" for some drinking glasses shows the complex nature of the word. So, just some examples in the other Germanic languages: German "Schale" (verb form: "schälen," meaning "to peel or to skin"), Low German Saxon "Schell" (verb: "schellen"), Dutch "schil" and "schaal." Swedish "skål" (meaning "bowl," from the shape of a half shell), Icelandic "skel." "Apparently," West Frisian "skyl," which meant "peel of a fruit or vegetable," is now obsolete. 

Glühwein Will Give You A Glow

Glühwein, literally "glow wine," is German spiced wine (also called "mulled wine," in English), more common in winter and at Christmas time, as it is usually served hot. It is frequently sold at Christmas markets or Christmas events in German areas. Commonly made and served in German areas in Europe: Germany, Austria, Switzerland, Luxembourg, Liechtenstein and Alsace. "Typically," it is made of red wine, but white wine is not totally uncommon, especially in some areas. Scandinavian countries also have a similar spiced drink, but the drink's base sometimes comes from other fruit juices, and the drink may include liquor. Americans drink spiced apple cider, which is something akin to the wine, but the American version is usually non alcohol cider; at least that's what I tell people (not that it isn't the truth, I swear!), but in the German state of Hessen, hard apple cider, known in standard German as "Appelwein," and in Hessian dialect by a number of regional variations, is used. "Glühwein" can take the chill out of winter and even make having a cold fun .... ahhhchooo! .....Gesundheit!   

Ingredients:

1 cup water
3/4 cup sugar
1 cinnamon stick
6 whole cloves
1 orange, juice + peel
1 lemon, juice + peel
1 bottle red wine (not sweet, I tend to use Cabernet Sauvignon)

In a heavy bottomed pan, heat the water over medium heat. Turn down the heat to low and add the sugar, stirring to dissolve it. Add the cinnamon, the cloves, the orange juice and peel, the lemon juice and peel. Let simmer, uncovered, for 25 to 30 minutes, stirring occasionally. This will form a nice syrup. Add the wine and heat through, stirring to mix. Serve hot. You can leave some peel in, as it looks and tastes good, but be careful of the cloves, you don't want to choke.  

WORD HISTORY:
Mull-There are several words of this spelling in English, some of which "may" be related.^ This form, used as "mull (something), usually wine," with the past tense form, "mulled," being more common in an adjectival usage, as "mulled wine," or "mulled cider," to mean, "heated wine with sweetener and spices." It "seems" to go back to Indo European "melg," which meant "to rub, to stroke," and is what you do to get milk from a cow or goat. The stroking process then became the word (noun) for the actual product, "milk" (the same form gave the Germanic languages, including English, their forms for "milk"). This gave Latin "mulgere," with the meaning, "to milk," which then gave Latin "mulctra," meaning, "milk pail." This was borrowed by the Germanic dialects of northwestern Europe as "molde," but with the same meaning; although, that meaning began to broaden to "trough," and later also to a more general word for a container, but then more specifically to a container for beer. Low German lost the "d" sound, which left "Molle." ^^ English "apparently" borrowed the word from Low German or Flemish, as both had forms of the word. The idea of heating a liquid with added flavorings would have easily applied to wine.

^ "To mull over;" that is, to think something over, to ponder," may be a figurative use of a verb form "mull," meaning "to grind into a powder." 
 

^^ Low German speakers were the main group of Germans to settle Berlin. While standard German (based on High German dialect) began to overtake the Low German of Berlin, it never completely displaced the Low German, and Berlin dialect, Berlinerisch, remains a dialect of High German, but with many Low German characteristics and vocabulary, including "Molle," meaning "a glass of beer." In Berlin, the term, "Mollenfriedhof" literally means, "cemetery for glasses of beer," but it really is the term for, "beer belly," a true cemetery for glasses of beer.

Sauerkraut Recipe

This recipe is my own, but it is really a collection of ideas from many sources over the years. For New Year's Day my mother and my maternal grandmother always fixed pork roast with sauerkraut, mashed potatoes, and rye bread with caraway seed. Before putting the food onto the stove, they would always give me a pinch of raw sauerkraut to eat, as that was supposed to bring extra good luck; notice, I said it's "supposed to bring extra good luck." I would guess that a high percentage of Americans would mention sauerkraut, if they were asked to name a German food, although bratwurst has become very popular since American forces helped to occupy and defend post-World War Two Germany. This recipe has traditional German ingredients, but with some specific Alsatian influences. Alsace (German: Elsass), its most well known city being Strasbourg (German: Strassburg), was long a German land, but because it bordered on French lands, it became a highly contested region, as the French sought to incorporate it into France. Wars and the resulting treaties saw the area come under French control, but then this was largely reversed during Bismarck's time in the 1870s, when much of Alsace came back under German control (a small, but heavily French populated part remained as a part of France). This continued until the end of World War One, when the area went back under French control. Don't get too comfortable, because the German defeat of France in 1940 put the area back into Germany, but Germany's defeat in 1945 saw Alsace become a part of France, where it has remained ever since. The German dialect of Alsace is closely related to that of Switzerland, southwestern Germany (in a fairly broad area, where Stuttgart is one of the main cities), Liechtenstein and the far western tip of Austria.

The use of wine in sauerkraut is not something unusual in Germany/Austria, for while Americans correctly associate Germans and beer, wine is a common drink for Germans/Austrians, and there are several regions, especially in western Germany near and along the Rhine and Moselle Rivers, and in eastern Austria, where vineyards are plentiful and wine is produced in large quantity.

Ingredients:

2 pounds sauerkraut, well rinsed
2-3 strips of smoky bacon, cut into small pieces
2-3 garlic cloves, chopped
1 apple, chopped (Germans tend to use green apples, but I use either green or red, unpeeled, and my German relatives have yet to disown me ... then again, I haven't heard from them for a while. Hmm, maybe I'd better check on that one. LOL!
2 medium onions, chopped
1 1/2 cups of white wine (Germans generally use dry white, but I've used semi-dry white [see under the apple type, above, about my German relatives], but I wouldn't use a sweet wine, see next ingredient )
2 tablespoons of dark brown sugar
1 tablespoon black pepper (unless you're a salt fiend, you won't need salt, as the bacon, ham and sauerkraut add plenty)
1/2 lb. ham, chopped
1 pork steak, whole
4 German sausages (fresh bratwurst; that is, not the precooked type, work well)
2 Frankfurters/wieners/hotdogs, whatever term you use, preferably with natural casing
If you want to make it more Alsatian, add about 8 or 10 juniper berries and 2 bay leaves (juniper berries are used to make gin), as well as another type of sausage, like knockwurst/knackwurst.

Now, I BAKE my sauerkraut, so make sure to have an ovenproof pan (with lid) or casserole that is big enough to accommodate all of the ingredients, keeping in mind the juice that will build during baking and that you will be adding the sausages later. In a skillet, saute the bacon pieces just a couple of minutes, then add the onion. Allow to cook, stirring to get the onions just somewhat softened. Add the garlic and continue for another minute or two. In your baking pan, add the sauerkraut, the chopped apple, the wine, the ham pieces, and the bacon/onion/garlic mixture. Stir to mix. Add the pork steak on top, then add the brown sugar and pepper. Cover and place into a 275 F degree oven. You really can't overcook this, in my opinion, but after an hour, you can turn the heat DOWN to 250 F, and let the dish bake a couple of hours longer. About an hour before serving, place the sausages around the top. Any precooked sausages will just need to be well heated, but any raw sausages will need the time to properly cook through. Mash some potatoes, cut the pork steak and sausages into pieces, and dig in, putting some of the liquid over the potatoes, or in a little hollowed out spot, as you would for gravy. Don't forget the beer or wine! (I'll have a brown ale.) Oh, I almost forgot. Before cooking, take a pinch of raw sauerkraut. HEY! I just got an email from Germany. See, they haven't disowned me .... What the hell do they mean it has to be a green apple and a dry German white wine, or else?

* For the history of the word "sauerkraut," or more specifically, the word, "kraut," see: http://pontificating-randy.blogspot.com/2010/05/german-question-part-twelve.html

WORD HISTORY:
Time-This word, related to "tide," goes back to Indo European "di/da," which had the notion of "divide, separate into pieces." This produced "diman," which meant "periods of time, seasons." This gave its Old Germanic offspring "timon," with the same meanings. Whether this form only survived in the North Germanic languages is unclear to me, but Old Norse had "timi," the form still in use in Icelandic, which means "time, period," and Danish and Norwegian have "time," both pronounced like "tee-ma," and meaning "hour, class (session)," while Swedish has "timme," pronounced similar to the Danish/Norwegian, and with the same general meaning. This form "may" have then come to England with Old Norse to give Old English (Anglo-Saxon) "tima," meaning "time, period of time." Later this became "tyme," before the modern version. Before the borrowing from Old Norse, English used "tid" (long i) for "time" and "tide," before separating the two. German uses "Zeit" (the 'z' is pronounced 'ts' and 'ei' is pronounced as a long i), and "Gezeiten" for "tide" (technically "Gezeit" means 'tide,' singular, but the plural form "Gezeiten" is most often used).