I suppose it was bound to happen.

As times grow increasingly bleak, there is a tendency to revert to stereotype, and to the most profound, bone-deep, sources of consolation.

And so it was that this note caught my eye:

“Irish consumers are more likely to do without hair conditioner, washing-up liquid and disposable nappies during a recession than their morning fry. Sausages, butter, bread, milk and tea are highly recession proof, according to Nielsen, but hair conditioner and washing-up liquid are particularly vulnerable.”

Which makes all the sense in the world, both the foresworn and the never-to-be-forsaken. And, if one might wonder as to how endless fry-ups can be made compatible with a lack of washing-up liquid, perhaps a thoroughly non-PC reference might be made to the essential difference between shanty and lace curtain irishpersons. Feel free to back-channel me if you aren’t familiar with the slur.

Shanty Fry-up

Eggs
Streaky bacon
Sausages
Tomatoes
Black and/or white pudding
Tinned beans
White toast

Fry. In this order: sausages, bacon, eggs, puddings, tomatoes, preferably all in one large pan. Heat beans.

Lace Curtain Fry-up

All the above.
Mushrooms
Substitute fried soda bread for lowbrow toast
Potatoes: mashed, hashed browns, chips or boxty
Fry.

As we say about Guinness, fry-ups are not just for breakfast. Or for hangovers. Any meal, any time of day or state of mind is immeasurably enhanced by this platonic ideal of consolation.

Whether you take the low road or the high.

A Silk Purse...

For anyone who has been wandering in here of late and perhaps thought they had missed the signposts…

Given current economic, market and emotional conditions, we are indeed taking a detour and comforting ourselves with New Depression-appropriate recipes. Feeding the soul if not the bank account.

Today, being especially trying, I’ve decided to dream of cassoulet. My always favorite dish, my obvious choice for Last Meal before being marched off to the guillotine. Wishing it could, in fact, transport me back to Biarritz and that stall at the end of Les Halles.

Now, in France this could easily be considered Depression food, but not so much elsewhere. In order to make it approachable in straitened circumstances, liberties will have to be taken. In this as in so much else.

Also think of it as a sort of apologia for the last post, as well as a homage to the current Porcine Pandemic.

Cassoulet

2 duck legs [hah!! Chicken legs, or even thighs, will suffice]
4 sausages, preferably Toulouse [preferably the cheapest on offer, add garlic if necessary]
1 3 1/2-pound boneless pork shoulder, trimmed of excess fat, cut into 1- to 1 1/2-inch pieces
6 rashers smoked streaky bacon, cut into half-inch long pieces
1 large onion, finely chopped
2 sticks celery, finely chopped
2 carrots, finely chopped
4 large cloves garlic, finely chopped or crushed
1 generous tbsp tomato purée
1/2 bottle dry white wine
2 330ml cans canellini beans
1 330ml can flageolet beans
2 330ml cans haricot beans [seriously, any sort of white beans in sufficient quantity is just fine, and, by all means, feel free to soak dried beans overnight if so inspired]
500ml good vegetable or chicken stock
about 6 springs fresh thyme
parsley, finely chopped (optional)
olive oil, for frying

Add some olive oil to a large hob-proof casserole or other large pot. Put on a high heat until very hot.
Brown the duck legs, sausages and lamb shanks in the hot pan. Once brown on all sides, remove all the meat and reserve.
Turn down the heat slightly and add the bacon, onions, celery and carrots.
Cook for about 5 minutes, stirring frequently, until the bacon is cooked and the vegetables softened.
Add the tomato purée, mix well and cook for 2 minutes, stirring constantly.
Turn up the heat, add the wine and deglaze the pot well, scraping any brownings from the bottom with a wooden spoon - reduce the liquid by about two thirds.
Reduce the heat to low, add the beans, stock and thyme. Return the browned meats to the pan and then cover.
Cook for an hour and a half, stirring occasionally.
Remove the lid and cook for a further hour or until only a little liquid remains.
Before serving, remove the duck legs and shanks and take the meat off the bone in little chunks. It should be very tender. Return to the pan to warm through. Check the seasoning, add the parsley if desired and serve.

Many recipes call for a breadcrumb topping, swaddled with butter and browned in the oven: precious, but optional.

More Cross-Posting

No, there is no way in hell I’m kidding.

Between our ever deepening New Great Depression and minute-by-minute updates about the Emerging Pandemic, there has never been a better time to revisit this childhood classic.

It has to be the cheapest supper out there [except, of course, for fried bologna, and I have no doubt it shall, at some point, come to that as well]. It can be endlessly retrofitted. It will fill anyone up, and it will transport one back to those mythical days of innocence and ease.

Let’s start with the Sturdy Original, direct from Campbells’ own website:

Mid-Century Tuna Noodle Casserole

1 can (10 3/4 oz.) Campbell's® Condensed Cream of Mushroom Soup

1/2 cup milk

1 cup cooked peas

2 tbsp. chopped pimentos 2 cans (about 6 oz. each) tuna, drained and flaked

2 cups hot cooked medium egg noodles

2 tbsp. dry bread crumbs

1 tablespoon butter OR margarine, melted

PREHEAT oven to 400°F.
MIX soup, milk, peas, pimiento, tuna and noodles in 1 1/2-qt. baking dish.
BAKE for 20 min.
STIR . Mix bread crumbs with butter. Sprinkle on top. Bake 5 min. or until hot.

Have some fun if you will:

Save some of the pimientos for mixing up your own sandwich spread [grated process cheese food, mayo and chopped pimientos].
Add some diced onion.
And Real Men and Women eschew the bread crumbs and add a topping of crushed potato chips or…tinned French fried onion rings.

Before you know it, you really will believe you’re sitting at a turquoise formica kitchen table, crickets are merrily chirping outside and dad’s in the den with his Pabst.

Let Them Eat Cake

In the interest of being of some use, I've decided to start crossposting here from my "translation" blog where I've grown bored with whining about outsourcing and the lack of work. Instead I've taken to posting some of my more simple, deeply comforting recipes. Foodstuffs in celebration of the New Depression, in homage to the Last Great one.

One of my favourites from my impoverished university days was Stuffed Cabbage Rolls. Not the fancy ones, though they do lend themselves to infinite variations of ingredient and flavor. They also involve real cooking, several steps and time spent in the kitchen. Just the thing for avoiding the pointless sending out of 200 more letters to translation agencies or the equally pointless obsessive checking of one’s bank balance.

Stuffed Cabbage Rolls

1 medium cabbage
1 ½ cups cooked rice
1 large onion, finely chopped
1 tbsp. butter [or oil]
1 lb. ground beef [the cheaper and fattier the better]
1 Egg
Salt and Pepper to taste
Herbs and spices as desired [some suggestions: thyme, marjoram, savory, allspice]
1 Garlic clove; minced
1 can (15-oz) tomato sauce
Sour cream

Remove core from cabbage.
Place in a large pot of boiling water to cover and blanch for 5 to 10 minutes until outer leaves are slightly wilted.
Drain, cool and separate leaves, cutting a V-shaped notch in each, removing the thick stems.
Sauté minced onion in 1 tablespoon butter.
Combine the meat, rice, onion, egg, salt, pepper, garlic and spices.
Mix thoroughly.
Preheat oven to 375 degrees.
Place about 3 heaping tablespoons of meat and rice filling on each leaf.
Roll the leaf, tucking sides either inside or under.
Repeat with remaining leaves.
Place the cabbage rolls close together, seam side down, in a baking dish or Dutch oven.
Pour the tomato sauce, diluted with ½ cup water [or chicken broth], over the rolls.
Cover and bake in the oven for 1 1/2 hours. You can uncover for the last 10 or 15 minutes or so in order to help the sauce thicken up, but keep an eye on it so it doesn’t burn.

When serving, top each roll with a large dollop of sour cream.

Best served with large quantities of mashed potatoes of the smooth and creamy [NOT “smashed” or lumpy] sort.

Variations: a mixture of pork and beef can be used; a bit of brown sugar, Worcestershire sauce and/or lemon can be added to sauce for a sweet-sour tang