Verona, Wisconsin, April 2016. The Redbud hosts another visitor.
April 30, 2016
April 29, 2016
April 28, 2016
April 27, 2016
Freedom Monument
Kaunas, Lithuanian Soviet Socialist Republic, June 6, 1989. My Mom's friend Joy wrote, "I stand at the Freedom Monument, near Kaunas's War Museum."
April 26, 2016
After Work
Suburban Chicago, June 1972. Dad and Gigi relax in the Rec Room. Mom's there, too, knitting.
April 25, 2016
My alma mater is in the news.
A Newsweek article about Trinity High School.
Thanks to my classmate Nora for pointing this article out to me.
Thanks to my classmate Nora for pointing this article out to me.
We like them crispy.
One of our cherished memories of Mr. Irene's Dad was his skill at cooking potato pancakes. He sometimes made potato pancakes when Mr. Irene, my Mom, and I visited with Mr. Irene's Parents on Sunday afternoons. Potato pancakes therefore spark happy memories.
Lithuanian* potato pancakes ("bulviniai blynai") are unlike latkes: the texture of the potatoes used in the batter must resemble a dense pulp, not shreds of potato. Most people prepare the potatoes for bulviniai blynai by processing them in a potato-grating machine (see also here and here) or, less favorably, in a juicer. A food processor does not achieve the correct texture. Mr. Irene's Dad did not have a potato-grating machine, so he laboriously processed the potatoes by hand on the small holes of a hand grater.
We have a potato-grating machine, and we most often use it to make Kugelis. I've been tweaking a recipe for potato pancakes for over ten years, but I never quite achieved the result we wanted. Last night, we were successful.
Here is my recipe:
Makes 12 pancakes, serves 3 to 4.
*Yes, Poles, Russians, and Ukrainians follow a similar method for making potato pancakes.
Lithuanian* potato pancakes ("bulviniai blynai") are unlike latkes: the texture of the potatoes used in the batter must resemble a dense pulp, not shreds of potato. Most people prepare the potatoes for bulviniai blynai by processing them in a potato-grating machine (see also here and here) or, less favorably, in a juicer. A food processor does not achieve the correct texture. Mr. Irene's Dad did not have a potato-grating machine, so he laboriously processed the potatoes by hand on the small holes of a hand grater.
We have a potato-grating machine, and we most often use it to make Kugelis. I've been tweaking a recipe for potato pancakes for over ten years, but I never quite achieved the result we wanted. Last night, we were successful.
Here is my recipe:
Potato Pancakes ("Bulviniai Blynai")
3
pounds Idaho or Yukon Gold potatoes (if you don't own a kitchen scale, then get one)
2
egg whites
1/4
teaspoon cream of tartar
2
egg yolks
2
tablespoons sour cream
1/4
teaspoon baking powder
2
tablespoons all-purpose flour
2
teaspoons salt
1/2
teaspoon ground black pepper
about
1 teaspoon "Fruit Fresh" or citric acid (optional; prevents potatoes
from oxidizing)
1
medium yellow onion
1
cup peanut oil (for frying)
Sour
Cream (for serving)
Fill
a large bowl with cold water. Add part of the "Fruit Fresh" and allow
to dissolve. Peel potatoes and cut into quarters. Drop potato quarters into the
cold water; set aside.
In
a medium mixing bowl using a hand mixer, beat the egg whites and cream of
tartar on medium speed until frothy. Gradually increase the speed to high and
mix until the egg whites are stiff. Set aside.
In
another mixing bowl, using the same hand mixer, beat the egg yolks, sour cream,
baking powder, flour, salt, and pepper until the egg yolks are pale in color
and the mixture is thick. Set aside.
Preheat
the oven to 425 degrees. Adjust the oven rack to the center positions. Line two cookies sheets with foil. Lightly spray the foil
with vegetable spray. Place a brown grocery bag near the stove top. Cover the
bag with a thick layer of paper towels.
Set
a fine mesh colander into a large mixing bowl and place the colander/bowl
assembly under the spout of a potato-grating machine. Process the potatoes and
onions together in the potato-grating machine (people suggest processing the
onions with the potato keeps the potatoes from oxidizing). Occasionally sprinkle
the grated potatoes with "Fruit Fresh" to prevent oxidizing.
Using
a spatula, press the potato pulp against the side of the colander
to squeeze out as much liquid as possible (do not drain the liquid yet). Let
the liquid stand for about 5 minutes, and save the starch that accumulates at
the bottom. Stir the potato pulp into the egg yolk mixture; then add the
accumulated potato starch. Fold in the egg whites: incorporate
the whites, but don't deflate them.
Heat
1/4- to 1/2-inch depth of peanut oil in a large, nonstick, sauté pan over
medium-high heat until shimmering but not smoking. Ladle 1/4 cup of the batter
into the oil for each blynas. Lightly press down on the batter so the blynai are
round and the tops are flat, position the blynai so they are not touching. Make about four blynai at a time. Fry until the
bottom is golden brown, about 3-1/2 to 4 minutes. Fry the other side until
golden; about 2 to 3 minutes.
Remove
the blynai from the oil and set on the paper-towel lined grocery bag. Allow
both sides to exude some of the oil. Transfer the cooked blynai to the prepared
cookie sheet(s) and place in the 425 degree oven, uncovered, while you finish
frying the rest of the blynai.
Serve
immediately with sour cream.
*Yes, Poles, Russians, and Ukrainians follow a similar method for making potato pancakes.
April 24, 2016
April 23, 2016
Sunbathing Reunion
Door County, Wisconsin, August 1993. Žulė enjoys a little window time. Mr. Irene and I had just driven up to the cottage so we could leave Žulė with Mom while we traveled to San Francisco.
A Closer Look (Part 66)
April 22, 2016
Related by Marriage: Anticipation
New Buffalo, Michigan, about 1974. Mr. Irene's Dad is ready for the beach.
April 21, 2016
"Tulip" is a cute name for a puppy.
Allen Centennial Gardens, University of Wisconsin—Madison, May 2015. We now favor flower names.
(No, we are not getting a puppy. A conversation about dog names came up last night.)
April 20, 2016
Sleeping-Puppies Reunion
Monona, Wisconsin, September 2003. Everyone—except Baci (known at the time as "Big Red")—naps.
Thanks to our friend Tom for making this photo available to us.
Make one at home.
I started baking in the early 1970s. I don't recall what sparked my interest, but I grew curious about trying new recipes. My paternal Grandmother, Tatjana, did not venture much beyond her own repertoire. My Mom worked full time, so she never cooked, and she only occasionally baked for the holidays. We also had few cookbooks. Besides the 1956 edition of the Betty Crocker Picture Book, I remember the German-language edition of this book, and a copy of European Desserts for American Kitchens.
I started experimenting with some of the recipes in European Desserts for American Kitchens. I first made a Dobos Torte, and then I moved on to a dessert—Crepes Saint Martin—that featured a delicious, rice-pudding-like filling. I finally saw that the book contained a recipe for one of the "triple crowns" of Lithuanian baking: "Baumkuchenas" (the other two "crowns" would be "Napoleonas" and Nut Torte ... at least at our house).
A homemade Baumkuchenas, of course, would not feature the typical "branches" or dough spikes created by baking the cake on a turning rotisserie over an open flame. If you want a Baumkuchenas with the typical appearance, then order one (the mail-order cakes are quite good). The recipe in European Desserts for American Kitchens, however, tastes almost identical to the traditional, branched cake, and I've been making it since 1972. A few years had passed since I made one, so yesterday I got ambitious.
Here's how I adapted the recipe:
1-1/2 cups (7.2 ounces) potato or cornstarch
1 cup plus 2 tablespoons (8.4 ounces) granulated sugar
9 egg whites, room temperature
1/2 teaspoon cream of tartar
1/4 teaspoon table salt
1 cup plus 2 tablespoons unsalted butter, room temperature
9 egg yolks, room temperature
1-1/2 teaspoon grated lemon rind
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
3/4 cup powdered sugar
1-1/2 tablespoons freshly-squeeze lemon juice
Adjust the oven rack to about six inches below the broiler element. Preheat the oven—on the broiler setting—to 475 degrees. Line the bottom of a 9-inch springform pan with parchment paper. Grease the parchment paper and the sides of the springform pan with butter. Dust the pan with flour and shake out the excess.
Sift the potato or cornstarch and set aside.
In the large bowl of an electric mixer, with the whisk attachment, begin mixing the egg whites, cream of tartar, and salt and low to medium speed until the egg whites begin to get foamy. Gradually increase the speed to medium-high and then high. While beating, add about 4 tablespoons of the granulated sugar to the egg whites. Continue beating until the meringue is stiff and holds its shape. Set the bowl with the meringue aside.
In another bowl of the electric mixer, with the paddle attachment, cream the butter and the remaining sugar. This should take about 5 to 6 minutes, and the mixture should be very light and pale in color. Add the egg yolks, one at a time, beating well after each addition. Mix in the lemon rind and the vanilla extract.
On low speed (or by hand, using a spatula), mix in about one-third of the potato starch. Gently fold in half the meringue. Then, add one-half of the remaining potato starch and the rest of the meringue. Finally, fold in the remainder of the potato starch.
Before beginning to bake, place the bowl with the batter, a trivet, and a large spoon or ladle near the oven. Using the spoon or ladle (or a small, offset spatula), spread about 1/4 cup of the batter in the bottom of the prepared pan. Place in the preheated oven and bake until the layer is lightly browned. The first layer may take about 2-1/2 to 3 minutes. When the first layer is done, remove the pan from the oven, set it on the trivet, and spread another 1/4 cup batter over the first layer. Continue in this manner until you have used up all of the batter. In our oven, the layers take about 2 to 2-1/2 minutes each, and you should end up with about 14 or 15 layers. The baking process is tedious.
Remove the cake from the oven and let it rest, in the pan, on a wire rack for about one hour. Run a knife around the sides of the pan and remove the springform. Let the cake rest until it is completely cool, about two hours.
Before serving, whisk together the powdered sugar and lemon juice and spread it on top of the cake.
I started experimenting with some of the recipes in European Desserts for American Kitchens. I first made a Dobos Torte, and then I moved on to a dessert—Crepes Saint Martin—that featured a delicious, rice-pudding-like filling. I finally saw that the book contained a recipe for one of the "triple crowns" of Lithuanian baking: "Baumkuchenas" (the other two "crowns" would be "Napoleonas" and Nut Torte ... at least at our house).
A homemade Baumkuchenas, of course, would not feature the typical "branches" or dough spikes created by baking the cake on a turning rotisserie over an open flame. If you want a Baumkuchenas with the typical appearance, then order one (the mail-order cakes are quite good). The recipe in European Desserts for American Kitchens, however, tastes almost identical to the traditional, branched cake, and I've been making it since 1972. A few years had passed since I made one, so yesterday I got ambitious.
* * * * *
Here's how I adapted the recipe:
Baumkuchenas
1-1/2 cups (7.2 ounces) potato or cornstarch
1 cup plus 2 tablespoons (8.4 ounces) granulated sugar
9 egg whites, room temperature
1/2 teaspoon cream of tartar
1/4 teaspoon table salt
1 cup plus 2 tablespoons unsalted butter, room temperature
9 egg yolks, room temperature
1-1/2 teaspoon grated lemon rind
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
3/4 cup powdered sugar
1-1/2 tablespoons freshly-squeeze lemon juice
Adjust the oven rack to about six inches below the broiler element. Preheat the oven—on the broiler setting—to 475 degrees. Line the bottom of a 9-inch springform pan with parchment paper. Grease the parchment paper and the sides of the springform pan with butter. Dust the pan with flour and shake out the excess.
Sift the potato or cornstarch and set aside.
In the large bowl of an electric mixer, with the whisk attachment, begin mixing the egg whites, cream of tartar, and salt and low to medium speed until the egg whites begin to get foamy. Gradually increase the speed to medium-high and then high. While beating, add about 4 tablespoons of the granulated sugar to the egg whites. Continue beating until the meringue is stiff and holds its shape. Set the bowl with the meringue aside.
In another bowl of the electric mixer, with the paddle attachment, cream the butter and the remaining sugar. This should take about 5 to 6 minutes, and the mixture should be very light and pale in color. Add the egg yolks, one at a time, beating well after each addition. Mix in the lemon rind and the vanilla extract.
On low speed (or by hand, using a spatula), mix in about one-third of the potato starch. Gently fold in half the meringue. Then, add one-half of the remaining potato starch and the rest of the meringue. Finally, fold in the remainder of the potato starch.
Before beginning to bake, place the bowl with the batter, a trivet, and a large spoon or ladle near the oven. Using the spoon or ladle (or a small, offset spatula), spread about 1/4 cup of the batter in the bottom of the prepared pan. Place in the preheated oven and bake until the layer is lightly browned. The first layer may take about 2-1/2 to 3 minutes. When the first layer is done, remove the pan from the oven, set it on the trivet, and spread another 1/4 cup batter over the first layer. Continue in this manner until you have used up all of the batter. In our oven, the layers take about 2 to 2-1/2 minutes each, and you should end up with about 14 or 15 layers. The baking process is tedious.
Remove the cake from the oven and let it rest, in the pan, on a wire rack for about one hour. Run a knife around the sides of the pan and remove the springform. Let the cake rest until it is completely cool, about two hours.
Before serving, whisk together the powdered sugar and lemon juice and spread it on top of the cake.
April 19, 2016
April 18, 2016
It's not that warm.
Nemunas Delta Region, Panemunė, Lithuania, about 1927. My maternal Grandmother, Jadzė, and my Mom enjoy the sand bar.
I love how Mom has a little play bucket.
April 17, 2016
We share a laugh.
Suburban Chicago, November 1972. My paternal Grandmother, Tatjana, gets a kick out of one of the photos in her birthday album.
April 16, 2016
A Saturday Visit to the Waiting Room
* * * * *
Suburban Chicago, December 1972. I don't recall why we visited Mom's office that day. Perhaps Dad wanted to hang some more photos in the waiting room (where, like in most doctors' offices, the magazines were plentiful and outdated).
Notice the $2.00 charges for non-business-hours telephone consultations. I worked in that office as a receptionist during the summers; here I am sewing that blouse.
April 15, 2016
April 14, 2016
A Favorite Pastor
Suburban Chicago, about 1967. He always carried a lit cigar, and the children loved him.
April 13, 2016
April 12, 2016
April 11, 2016
A Lovely Disposition
Madison, Wisconsin, April 10, 2016. This little fellow is a twelve-week-old Havanese. I met him yesterday, and he is one of the sweetest pups I've encountered.
Related by Marriage: Attention
Nativity BVM Church, Marquette Park, Chicago, Illinois, January 11, 1958. The honor guard at the wedding of Mr. Irene's Parents listen to the ceremony.
April 10, 2016
April 9, 2016
A Closer Look (Part 65)
April 8, 2016
Happy Birthday, Rex!
Monona, Wisconsin, June 2005. The little guy turns 11 today. He's the easiest dog we've ever had.
April 7, 2016
April 6, 2016
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