Sunday, January 2, 2011

TiT, Part IV: Look Ma, No Cans!


Don't get me wrong, I think the normal green bean casserole where every single ingredient comes from a can has a certain gloppy charm. It's kind of like a sophisticated Gerber's for babies of all ages. And being able to do nothing more than open some cans, pour 'em together, stir and bake is an unquestionably convenient (although shamefully perfunctory) way to satisfy Mom's and the FDA's green vegetable requirement.

But it doesn't have to be that way. Fresh green beans and mushrooms are easy to find - both in the US and in Thailand. And replacing the Universal Binding Agent (UBA), aka Krusty's Kream O'Mushroom Soup, with something from scratch is simplicity itself. But surely it must be impossible to make at home the crucial and most delicious crowning component - Durkee's french-fried onions?

On the contrary, they were simple to make and infinitely more delicious than the fossilized onionlike artifacts found inside the Durkee's cans. There are dozens of recipes for homemade french-fried onions available online. Here's the method we used:

First, soak a couple thinly sliced onions in milk for half an hour. You'll want to discard the milk, unless you want to cook something that punches you in the mouth with its overwhelming onion power. Next, dredge the onion slices in seasoned flour. In batches, fry them in medium-hot oil until golden brown. Drain on paper towels and lightly sprinkle with salt. It's that easy. The biggest problem will be saving enough for the casserole: once you taste them, it's hard to stop popping them into your mouth.

Now tip & tail the beans, then you can french (aka string) 'em or cut 'em to length. We used long beans, which are ubiquitous and inexpensive in Thailand's local markets, cut into 2-inch segments. Poach the beans in salted water until they're a bit firmer than al dente. Rinse in cold water to arrest cooking, drain and set aside.

Next the mushies. We used shiitake mushrooms because they're cheap and easy to find here, but any shroom'll do. Slice into quarter-inch cross-sections and saute with garlic and/or shallots or onions until golden brown. (I prefer Alton Brown's method, which neatly manages the cooking process in the most efficient way possible by utilizing the relative difference in temperature at the center of the pan versus on the edges, as well as by taking advantage of the shrinkage of the mushrooms during cooking to make more room.)

Once you've set aside your sauteed mushrooms, it's time to make the UBA-surrogate, originally known as "white sauce." Make a light roux with 2 tablespoons each of butter and flour, whisk in a cup and a half of cream (or half-and-half or milk) and a couple pinches of salt and then simmer until it reduces to its desired thickness. If it gets too thick, whisk in some more cream a tablespoon at a time. Now add the shrooms and some cracked peppercorns, then the poached beans, then a third of the french-fried onions. Simmer until thoroughly heated through. Taste and adjust for salt. Transfer to a baking dish (again, we used the cheap foil pans).

We did all of this while the turkey was roasting. While the finished turkey was resting, we finished the job thusly:

Grate some nutmeg. Sprinkle this and the remaining french-fried onions over the top of the casserole. Bake uncovered at 350 degrees F, or whatever, until the sauce is bubbling through.

While all this has been going on, you haven't forgotten the mashed potatoes, have you? Or the gravy for that matter? And of course there's no reason whatsoever to describe how I made mashed potatoes or gravy, because you already have your own way and wouldn't like to have me insult your intelligence any more than I already have.

Anyway, it all turned out "good enough," according to Dao. And under the circumstances, good enough for her was good enough for me.


Because it's never too late to give thanks: Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!

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