Chestnut soup image; Jeroxie.com

There’s nothing Dickensian about my Christmases. My mother, Euphrasia Maffei (who despite the name Vicki -which she chose for herself in her teens) is good Italian stock and our Christmas always reflected her heritage.  Big family gatherings, homemade lasagna in foil pans, the Christmas Eve Feast of the Seven Fish; these were hallmarks of my holidays.

So what is it about Chestnuts that makes me want to stand outside in a ratty homemade scarf warming my hands by a fire crackling in an old garbage can and shouting “Happy Christmas, Guv’nor!” ? And further, how did this creamy white nut become such a symbol of the English holidays?  In fact, Chestnuts actually have more history in my Mediterranean roots as well as strong ties to Asia (see some of your favorite Chinese neighborhood street vendors for packets of freshly roasted Chestnuts).

The Chestnut is a hard nut to crack, so to speak. It also conjures Colonial images of shady trees and thick dark wood furniture. But how frequently do we see a Chestnut tree in the states? Turns out a disease brought in from Asian Chestnut trees (in my hometown of Long Island) devastated the American Chestnut tree population in the early 1900’s nearly wiping out the American species.

Nevertheless, who am I to quibble with the Chestnut’s image? When Steve’s (English) mom roasts Chestnuts for her stuffing, the house is filled with the welcoming toasty aroma. Tucked deep in your coat pocket, the little paper bags of hot ‘pebbles’ ward off the chill as you walk to the neighborhood pub.  And as soon as you return from caroling, I’ll help to brush the London snow from your Mac, I’ll hang up your ratty homemade scarf and hand you a warm bowl of super comfort; or my Christmas Chestnut Bisque.   Happy Christmas, Guv’nor.

Chestnut Bisque

Recipe courtesy of The Hearty Boys

 Ingredients

3 tablespoons butter

½ cup celery, diced

¼ cup carrot, diced

½ cup shallots, diced

3 parsley sprigs

2 whole juniper berries

2 bay leaves

6 cups vegetable stock

1 – 14 ounce jar chestnuts, finely chopped

¼ cup sherry

¼ cup heavy cream

Salt & pepper to taste

 Directions

Melt the butter over medium heat in a large saucepan and add the celery, carrot and shallot. Cook about 15 minutes or until the shallot is translucent.

Wrap the parsley, juniper berries & bay leaves in cheesecloth and tie in a bundle. Add to the vegetables along with the stock. Simmer 20 minutes, add the chestnuts and sherry and simmer another 5 minutes. Remove from the heat, discard the cheesecloth and put all the solids in a blender with some of the stock. Blend until smooth and return to the saucepan. Add the cream, salt and pepper and simmer another 5 minutes.

Yield: 8 cups

(Dan Smith is Executive Chef of Hearty and Hearty Boys Catering, and one half of the Hearty Boys)

Our son never knows what to call his friend’s parents.  Sometimes it’s ‘Grayson’s Mommy’ or ‘Aunt Gale’ or sometimes (to my horror) he just calls them what he hears the other kids call them…‘Mommy’.

 I finally realized that this is my fault. I don’t properly introduce him to adults because I’m not completely sure what they want to be called.  So, if I don’t ask them how they’d prefer to be addressed and I don’t tell him what to call them, he solves the issue on his own.  His speech therapists are easy; I put a polite “Miss” in front of everyone’s name which gives Nate the added benefit of sounding like a mini Georgian gentleman as he speaks.  “Pahdon me, Miss Amy, but were ya’ll asking me to PROnounce mah hahd consonants?”

 The root of the problem is that I am a very informal person. I am a ‘Steve’. Not a ‘Stephen’, not a ‘sir’ and certainly not a ‘Mr. McDonagh’.  This problem is compounded because I expect everyone to be like me.  And expecting everyone to be like me can lead to a lifetime of disappointment.

 I had an elderly client once who insisted on being called “Mrs. Wilkinson”.  This bugged the hell out of me.  I’d pick up the phone and it’d be “Hello, Steve? This is Mrs. Wilkinson”.  Now here’s where the chip on my shoulder comes in…why am I a first name guy and you’re a formal name?  Does it have to do with me being in the service industry? Does it have to do with age?  Or maybe I’m just itching for a fight and looking for an excuse to ‘rage against the man’…

 In my line of work as a caterer and event planner, I walk a fine line of tempering proper manners in today’s less formal society.  In fact, I’d go as far as to say I’m helping to guide my clients through the new rules of etiquette. As a wedding caterer especially, there is an inherent expectation of formality; of a pomp that is often expected.

 I’ve been really lucky in that our branding tends to weed out the more formal clients.  We usually get the brides and grooms that want a less formal service and more relaxed atmosphere.  And I love to throw those kinds of parties.  There’s a place, certainly, for formal events, but my favorites are the ones where our guests are comfortable enough to get down and dirty.  It’s the difference between taking off your jacket and tie and dancing and wondering if it’s really OK if you take off your jacket and tie and dance.

 And these social cues are dependent on you as a host. Your guests follow your lead.  If you want to throw a comfortable relaxed party, you must be sure not to start off feeling tense and or being too dressed up.  Your food needs also to reflect that direction. For example, nothing says “I hope you’re using a coaster” like intricate fussy little passed hors doeuvres and silver trays.

 Think about the cues you’re giving to your guests that guide them to know what’s expected at your party.  It’s just like I said about Nate…if I don’t greet someone warmly as ‘Steve’ with a familiar handshake you might be likely to call me “Mr. McDonagh”…or worse yet, ‘Mom’.

By Steve McDonagh

How about this hostess gift?

I got the best host gift the other night. Mom always taught us never to turn up to someone’s house empty handed and I know I heed that advice.  I’d love to tell you that I’m the kind of person who has thought out the perfect token to bring along, but, in truth, I usually end up bringing a bottle of wine in a nice wine bag*

*An aside on those wine bags: I think that there has only ever been 4 dozen assorted wine bags actually produced and that we just keep circulating them among each other. Once you’ve been to 4 dozen parties, you’ll begin to get the same bags back.  Since we are all reusing the same pool of bags, a bag you gave away months ago to one person may be returned to you by someone completely different.  It’s like 6 degrees of separation…each bag is only 3 cocktail parties away from Kevin Bacon’s house.

But when I told our friend, Jimmy, that we’d be serving Mexican last night he took some time to bring me something really cool and useful.  He made a mix CD of lesser known Mexican music.  Now mind you, he doesn’t have a full time job and can find a little more CD time than some of us, but lets not look a gift burro in the churros.

Music is the backbone of any party.  By taking the time to make this mix Jimmy taught me something (introducing me to artists I didn’t know), made my host duties a little lighter (I didn’t have to think about what music I would play) and added to the overall ambience of the evening.  Plus, it’s personal and (win-win) cost him very little money.

The hostess gift has so many pressures now.  Martha high jacked it years ago and urged us to make mailboxes from discarded juice boxes if we really wanted to say ‘thank you’.  But I don’t have time for that, I can barely find time to gift wrap when I have to let alone make the paper.  So maybe that’s the most valuable host gift there is…time.  I know that if I take the time to put thought into a gift I feel so much more excited about giving it. I don’t get the same rush out of the last minute bottle of wine.

I’m not going to blog today about directives on the newest hostess gift trend or idea.  I’m going to leave you thinking about what gift left an impression on me last night. Time and some thought.  Both of which can be hard to find commodities for all of us right now.

(Steve McDonagh is one-half of the the Hearty Boys, and when you dine atHearty, be sure to drink one of his cocktails!)

By Steve McDonagh

So classic, huh?

(Steve McDonagh is one-half of the the Hearty Boys, and when you dine atHearty, be sure to drink one of his cocktails!)

by Steve McDonagh

One of the biggest struggles of a growing business is maintaining consistency. For my catering business, this issue cuts across all aspects from invoicing to the server’s footwear.  Since we can’t be everywhere at once we need to take the scariest of all small business steps and let go and trust others.  So, all I can do is try to hire strategic minded staff who can protect and implement my vision.

I drop by the larger events we do each weekend to check on progress, shake hands and do a quality check.  And I’m not gonna lie, recently I was a little horrified by the garnish we were using on our passing platters at one of our weddings.

We have an awesome group of field chefs Many of them work early mornings in the catering kitchen, pack up the food and equipment and then stage the event that night.  These guys have taken this food from the produce delivery to the prep table to the clients’ tables, and they take pride in it.  So, I’ll forgive them if occasionally they get over zealous in putting out the food with their own trademarks but seriously, let me tell you about the ‘Blue Sugar Ocean’…

I get to the wedding (beautifully lit, by the way, in a large space with a huge dance floor and stage for a band) and head into the kitchen.  One of our passed hors d oeuvres is Tequila Lime Barbecue Shrimp; we have two different ways of passing this. Sometimes, we’ll serve it atop a shot glass filled with some of the incredible marinade (tequila, tomato, fresh lime) and other times, skewered as a more simple presentation.  Simplicity is great with passed food (that’s kind of where I’m going with this).  One of the waiters came by with a platter that had what looked like dry polenta, assorted greens and sparkling blue granules.  I had to stop him.

“Is that…sugar?”

“Yeah, he said, it’s the ocean… see the shrimp lined up along the polenta beach?”

Just smear the honey on a plate, via Vermont Lenses' photostream.

So, what I want to tell you will be much like the meeting we had on Monday morning.  Let your food speak for itself…it’s not a drag show, it’s dinner.  You’ve worked hard on the Shrimp, let your efforts shine. Garnish simply and naturally, preferably with an ingredient that gives your guests an idea of what flavors to expect.  The Tequila Lime Shrimp needs only 3 slices of thinly sliced lime circles, translucent and catching the light to add a splash of color to your platter.  Or take natural greens or herbs like tarragon or rosemary and bundle them in a simple sachet tied with raw string.  Another one I am really happy with right now is the use of honey and spices. If you smear a thick line of honey on the side of plate, you can use it much in the same way as a pre school project.  Cover the sticky honey with vibrant Red Cumin or Star Anise for a really unusual presentation.

Just don’t use blue sugar unless you’re serving cupcakes.  Frankly, I just don’t have time to drop by your house for another one of those meetings.

(Steve McDonagh is one-half of the the Hearty Boys, and when you dine atHearty, be sure to drink one of his cocktails!)

By Dan Smith

Mayonnaise. A lot us despise it. It’s in egg salads and tuna salads and potato salads, and if you leave it out on a hot day for too long, it’ll make you sick. The French love it. Salted, crispy, think-cut potatoes dipped in mayonnaise? It’s their version of the classic American fries and ketchup. And you know what? I love it too. In fact, I’m willing to bet most of us do.

And that’s what today’s post is all about. Mayonnaise love. But I’m not talking the Best Foods or Hellman’s or store brand mayonnaise stuff that comes in the jar—no no no no  no. This is all about making the mayonnaise yourself, from scratch, at home. Yup, I said it. And in the video, I’m doing it!

The great thing about making a mayonnaise yourself is that the base is simple. It doesn’t require too many ingredients. And better yet, it’s versatile. You can take a basic mayonnaise, introduce a strong seasoning or flavor to it, and before you know it you’ll have an intense, yet cool dressing to go with any kind of dish you might be cooking.

Store bought? No more!

So you’re you’ve got left over roasted chicken and have some basil and provolone in the fridge—make a basil aioli and throw some sun dried tomatoes on there! Or toss in some garlic and you’ll have a dipping sauce or spread that goes with almost anything you’d put regular mayonnaise with. If you had our conch fritters this summer at Hearty, then you also had an aioli that I had a lot of fun with: Key Lime. See, there’s little limitation when it comes to this stuff?

So watch the video, take your notes, and have at it. As I say, if you commit to this, you’ll find yourself saving money in the end, too. Making your own is cheaper than buying it from the store!

Good luck!

(Dan Smith is Executive Chef of Hearty and Hearty Boys Catering, and one half of the Hearty Boys)

By Steve McDonagh

Crappy napkin via BEUTELTIERE's photostream

So, my little sister destroyed my dinner with a crappy napkin. It was my mom’s birthday and we had rented a house in North Carolina for the week; a gorgeous place with a long boardwalk to the beach in Ocean Island.  I said I’d make dinner each night with a special birthday dessert in lieu of a traditional gift since my mom hates everything I buy her.

That day I stopped by a fish shack to see what would inspire me…it was a pretty cool place in spite of the fact that they were kind of a combo dicey-used-clothing/fresh fish market.  But the shrimp were huuuge and very affordable and they had some interesting locally made corn meal for grits. I had to try.

I marinated the shrimp in a bottle of local BBQ sauce; since it was North Carolina I opted for a vinegar based type (real North Carolina BBQ isn’t the sticky thick tomato variety) and grilled shrimp skewers on the charcoal grill.  I made the grits simply with butter and cheese to serve as a bed for those monster shrimp.  The fish market also had bags of frozen mussels, which I’m a sucker for. I steamed them in a white wine broth with garlic, shallots, Roma tomatoes, basil and lemons alongside a loaf of crusty bread.

Someone we had staying with us had bought a liter of cheap white wine and I was hesitant to serve it as is…but we had some fresh oranges, Cointreau and (this is kind of brilliant) crystallized ginger.  This yielded a terrific simple orange sangria; the ginger dissolved in the glasses for an added tang of heat.  I’m not a huge sangria fan, sometimes it seems like it can try too hard with an orchard of fruit stuffed in the glass, but this was perfectly simple and delicious and I wish we were filming a show right now so I could demo the recipe.

So, my sister (mother of 2 small boys) set the table.  Everything was fine, oversized plates, side bowls for the spent mussel shells, crusty bread—warm and wrapped in a tea towel—and silverware with a napkin.  It was a paper napkin; we were on vacation so I’d expect that. No big deal.  But this was one of those mean little square napkins, single ply, printed with some awful geese or something.

Now, I can handle a roadside stop handing me a roll of paper towels with my drippy burgers and wings, which can be fun.  But we didn’t even have the luxury of a thick paper towel that boasts of its spill-soaking abilities, we had the crappy bargain napkins you hand to your kid while he’s sitting at the counter with a PBJ after school. The kind of napkin that after you use it for a few moments you’re left with something reminiscent of that Kleenex you find crumpled and deteriorating in last year’s winter coat.  This is not a grown up napkin.

Dan and I use linen napkins frequently at home. Not fancy ironed linen, just cotton blends that get tossed in the laundry and folded straight out of the dryer. The ecological benefits are obvious, but it’s the unconscious emotional benefits that people don’t think about.  A quality napkin just gives us a general sense that care was taken preparing this meal and that care should be taken to enjoy it. It elevates a meal by elevating our sense of…importance is too strong a word…respecting the meal? The process?  Simply stated; a decent dinner deserves a decent napkin.

Have fun with linen via Beeper Bebe's photostream

I understand that we’re not going to use real napkins consistently; it isn’t feasible. But in my home we have the small napkins for Nate (they make financial sense given that he’ll be going through a couple) as well as large double ply disposable dinner napkins for us.  I recommend you do this, get something quality for your table, something with weight and absorbency.  Eat like a grown up…treat yourself to those little things that make your dinner table feel like a place where we should pause.  The time spent eating it should reflect the time you spent making it.

As for my sister, next time she comes to my place I’m serving her wet beef sandwiches with a roll of off-brand toilet paper…teach her to screw with my steamed mussels.

(Steve McDonagh is one-half of the the Hearty Boys, and when you dine at Hearty, be sure to drink one of his cocktails!)

by Dan Smith

Call it that child in me, but when it comes to this post the one thing I keep thinking about has nothing to do with food at all. I’m talking smoking meats here, and yet on a constant loop in my head I have Jim Carrey from “Ace Ventura: Pet Detective” shouting, with his crazy hair, “Smokin’!” over and over again. Oy.

But smoking meats it is. When it came to this latest series of videos, we really wanted to showcase something that was fitting for early fall weather. Summer is gone, we know that, so on most days it’s a little too cold to invite the friends over for a backyard cookout. That said, we’ll be milking the patio weather at Hearty for as long as we can—which is why we agreed a little video on smoking meats would be perfect.

When it comes to smoking meats, or fish or vegetables and even salt, it’s easy to understand why most people assume it’s something for experts.Or, I should say something that can’t be done at home. I mean, that’s why they sell smoked bacon and salmon and whatnot at the market, right? But that’s the illusion! It’s easy. Super easy. Walk into any Home Depot, ask where the smokers are, and you’ll be able to walk out with one in your cart in a matter of minutes, and without spending a ton of money, too. That’s exactly what we did for the smoker we use at Hearty—and it’s electrical, too. This makes heating the wood chips even easier when it comes down to it.

But why smoke your meats, right? Well, why add garlic to a tomato sauce? Why put salt and pepper on eggs? Hot fudge on vanille ice cream? Because it just tastes better, that’s why! And boy oh boy, the difference between a smoked meat and unsmoked meat is just night and day. So the answer is simple. If you care about your food tasting as best it can, and keeping it as fresh and from as many hands as possible, then smoke your foods yourself at home.

Love this old print from milajake's photostream.

And in the video, we’re obviously smoking bacon. Using a whole pork belly, which you can order from your butcher if he doesn’t have it in the case, we first brine the meat in a simple solution for four days, and then once it’s dried, throw it in the smoker! There’s hardly any labor involved in the process at all. Four days soaking, then five to six hours in the smoker outside. And meanwhile, you can do whatever it is around the house you like doing (of course, tell your spouse you’re cleaning, but watch TV instead I say).

And after all this if you’re not convinced, then come eat dinner at Hearty and talk to me about what’s on the menu that’ll showcase this simple, yet so rewarding way to prepare foods. In fact, I encourage it! I’ll make converts of you yet…

(Dan Smith is Executive Chef of Hearty and Hearty Boys Catering, and one half of the Hearty Boys)

By Dan Smith

With the passing of summer (and it hurts me to type those words) I’ve started to plan the restaurant’s fall menus and I’ve also been giving thought to overhauling catering’s Thanksgiving take away menu. For ten years now we’ve had great success at making culinarily challenged men and women look good in front of their families and friends on what has to be the most foodcentric American holiday.

The problem is, the holidays always seems to creep up on me (like I’m telling you all something you don’t know!) so I usually wind up tweaking the menu a bit and selling what, to me, is the same old thing. On the flip side, and judging from our many repeat customers, what is the same old thing to me is most likely the customer’s tried and true favorite.

So my dilemma…keeping the customers happy (paramount) while satisfying my constant itch to create new dishes and, in some cases, forcing untried dishes onto unwilling clients. In one particular case the untried dish, (or as Steve would call it, the unPOPULAR dish) is my Indian pudding—a molasses sweetened cornmeal based dish that a lot of Midwesterners are completely unfamiliar with. Steve has been trying for years to get me to take it off the menu and, pigheaded as I am, year after year I’ve refused. So pigheaded in fact that, last year when we opened Hearty, I put it onto the dessert menu as part of a pudding flight. Not only was it well received, but it was written up in TimeOut Chicago as a really fantastic dessert—so take THAT!

But I digress. In thinking about ways to freshen up the menu the other day I remembered one particular Thanksgiving spent at my aunt’s house when I was about ten. Along with the canned cranberry jelly (remember how it used to slide out of the can and still look like a cranberry version of the can?) and the canned green beans with canned mushroom soup and canned onions (you’re getting the basic picture here, right?) she served that sweet potato casserole topped with brown sugar and mini marshmallows that, for some ungodly reason, has become a staple at Thanksgiving dinners across America.

So I got to thinking…how can I make that dish actually fit into the Thanksgiving meal rather than look like an escapee from the dessert buffet?…Here’s my thinking—and part of the recipe for what’s going to be a kick ass Thanksgiving side—Sweet Potato and Caramelized Shallot Casserole with Housemade Thyme Black Pepper Marshmallows.

I tested the marshmallows today and they ROCK!

Thyme Black Pepper Marshmallows

• 1 1/3 cups water
• 2 ½ cups sugar
• ¼ cup corn syrup
• 4 packets gelatin
• 6 egg whites
• 1 teaspoon salt
• 1 tablespoon black pepper
• 2 tablespoons freshly picked thyme leaves
• Cornstarch
• Special Equipment: Candy Thermometer

Line a 1 inch deep baking sheet pan with parchment paper and dust liberally with corn starch. (Use a sieve or sifter to create an even layer) Set aside.

Pour 2/3 cup of the water into a saucepan along with the sugar and corn syrup. Place it over medium heat and bring to a simmer, stirring to dissolve the sugar. Once the sugar has dissolved add the salt, pepper and thyme leaves. Clip the candy thermometer to the side of the saucepan and keep a close eye on it. You’ll want the mixture to come up to 265 degrees F. It will take about 10 – 15 minutes.

Pour the remaining water into a second saucepan and sprinkle all the gelatin over it. Let soften and then place on a low heat. Stir well until it dissolves.

While all this is happening put the egg whites into a stainless bowl. (If you have a stand mixer use the whisk attachment). Whisk the egg whites until they form stiff glossy peaks. Be sure not to overbeat or the peaks will go dull.

Pour the syrup into the egg whites in a slow steady stream as you continue to whisk. Make sure to pour against the side of the bowl and not onto the spinning whisk. Do the same with the gelatin mix. Beat an extra 3 minutes. Using a rubber spatula, scrape the batter out onto the prepared baking sheet. Fill to the rim and smooth the top with the spatula. Rap the pan against the counter a couple of times to settle the batter. Let set in a cool dry area for 2 hours. Dust the top with more cornstarch at that point and let set another 1 – 2 hours.

To cut. Run a sharp knife around the edges of the pan and lift the entire thing (including the parchment) out of the pan. Place upside down on a counter and slowly peel away the parchment. Gently lift any excess clumped cornstarch off the surface with a sharp knife. Dust again with a little cornstarch and, using a sharp knife, cut into whatever shape you like. If the knife becomes sticky rinse it in warm water. Toss the pieces of marshmallow in more cornstarch, making sure to shake off any excess. Store in a cool, dry place for up to one week.

(Dan Smith is Executive Chef of Hearty and Hearty Boys Catering, and one half of the Hearty Boys)

By Steve McDonagh

Sweet Jesus, first it was the Double Down “sandwich,” and now we have the skinwich from KFC? The Double Down: two pieces of manipulated fried chicken surrounding bacon and processed cheese? And though I know the skinwich is really a publicity stunt, the very idea of the hoax is a satire on the truth of the way we eat. I mean, this is why we’re fat, America.  Because KFC (who incongruously dropped the word “fried” from their name in order to appear more health conscious) will find ways to tap into our inner glutton and use wording to make it acceptable for us to eat something with 32 grams of fat.

I struggle with my midsection constantly. People always tell me I’m so thin, but I know how to layer clothing and they haven’t seen me at the pool. And I know why I have flab. It’s what I choose to put into my own mouth.  I’ll tell you, I felt like a pre-menstrual teen this past Easter as I stood at the kitchen counter dipping Chocolate Bunny parts into the Skippy jar sobbing between swallows and filled with self loathing for having no control.   “Why am I so weak…and faaa-aaa-aaat”*

Kevin Pang's skinwich.

But so what do we do? I understand that I should reach for a banana instead, but frankly, at 3:45 pm I don’t want to hear about bananas. What do I do, especially when I’m trying to cut down on alcohol, and am invited to an awards event as I was last night? They were serving all of Goose Island’s microbrews for crying out loud.  What do we do as hosts when we know that some of our guests may want to party with a responsible menu?

My answer is moderation. I love moderation…it doesn’t smack of abstention, it is the best of all worlds. But, to reference the Double Down again, we hosts need to “advertise” better options and make them seem as palatable as the Nine Layer Dip at the Superbowl Party (oooh, I do love me some Nine Layer Dip…no joke).

Offer some fun and fatty foods at your party, but be moderate.  This can be as easy as buying store bought “baked” chips rather than fried.  Substitute hummus for the fatty jarred mayo-based dressing you’d pair with fresh veggies.  If you’re putting out mini sandwiches, use lean meats with mustard in place of mayo on thinner breads instead of chubby rolls.

Don’t make it appear that you have taken away delicious options and substituted low cal.  You do this by advertising shrewdly.  You’ve still got the usual stand-bys we expect and hope to see on your buffet, but you’ve sneakily made better choices for us as guests.  Because as our beloved Colonel can attest, it isn’t difficult to get us Americans to buy into your sales pitch.

*OK, so the sobbing part is an exaggeration but I thought you’d enjoy the image. Extra points if you picture me doing that with full orthodontic headgear and bits of peanut butter stuck between my braces.

(Steve McDonagh is one-half of the the Hearty Boys, and when you dine at Hearty, be sure to drink one of his cocktails!)