"broiling" news and stories

Removing sticky residue from your roasting pans is a cinch with this housekeeping secret.

Scanned from Cooking and Traveling the Cape Cod Way (1953)

Forefather's Day isn't celebrated until tomorrow, but I'm posting this in anticipation of the East Coast's wintry mix blowing up the collective skirt of many folks' salt pork acquisition schedules. I'm a huge sucker for dishes made expressly in observance of regionally significant holidays and events -- especially so when the tenor of the recipe matches the spirit of the occasion. In New Orleans at Mardi Gras, it's all wild-hued, cream-slathered King Cake. On a chilly Christmas Eve in North Carolina, there is sweet, hot Moravian Love Feast coffee, and light potatoey buns, made to be split and shared.

It seems appropriate that a feast in commemoration of the Pilgrims' arrival in a bitter and bleak new terrain would involve some rather hardscrabble fare -- sustenance and utility, rather than sybaritic excess. Then again, I could be projecting 'cause I've never met a succotash I've really liked. Should I be able to get my frozen paws on some pea beans within the next 24 hours, I'll give this one a go.

If you should decide to do the same, please let us all know how it goes in the comments below. All I ask is that you remember to pay for the corn.

Need to defrost a steak and keep it moist? Run it under water!

Nothing tastes like a good blackening. And it's not even hard.

Many people shy away from blackened foods, thinking that blackening means charring the meat, the vegetable, whatever is being blackened.

Au contraire! Blackening refers to what happens to the Cajun spices! The spices get really hot and kazaam! They explode in the heat, turning black and infusing your fish, meat, vegetables or what-have-you with their flavor. Cajun, delicious, and a lot better for you than frying.

Check out instructions on how to make two seriously delicious blackened catfish fillets after the jump.

Recently, I mentioned to my mom that I had an eggplant in my fridge that needed to be used. She started telling me about a recipe that a friend had given her back when she was first married for broiled eggplant. She remembered it being delicious. I didn't pay a whole lot of attention when she told me about it, because if it had been that good, why was it not part of the menu rotation when I was growing up?

The original eggplant got put to other purposes, but this weekend I picked up two nice, firm, white eggplants this weekend at the farmers market, and so this recipe started niggling away at my consciousness again. I put it together tonight and nearly wept at my first bite as it was tender and sweet and crunchy and wonderful. I called my mother up as soon as my plate was clean to ask her how it was possible that she had known of this preparation for nearly 40 years and I was only eating it tonight. In some sense, I'm grateful for her recipe amnesia, if only because it contributed to a fun recipe discovery tonight. If you like eggplant, don't wait 40 years to make this dish.