A Taste of Home

2012 already?!  I looked back on my last post and realized I have not contributed anything since before Thanksgiving.  I often come across a recipe or idea to write about, but then somehow it gets replaced in my mind with other, more "important" thoughts...ones that usually begin with, "Mom, don't forget..."  It's hard enough to keep my own thoughts straight, but when I have to remember for 4 other people, well, you can understand how a blog idea might get pushed back into the farthest corners of my mind.  It's funny how some things you just can't recall and yet others are so prominent in your mind that they might as well have just happened moments ago.  Song lyrics always fascinate me...ever walk into a room and forget why you went in there, yet hear a song on the radio and instantly start singing all the words plus recall some distant memory of when it was popular?  I hear "Glory Days" by Bruce Springstein and I am instantly transported back to a summer evening and riding around with my friend Michelle in her mom's Escort.  Sense memories...something that triggers those thoughts...a song, a scent, even food.  A few weeks ago, my Dad sent me a povitica, which is a Croatian sweet bread or walnut roll, that my Grandma would make at Christmas and Easter.  I have not had it since she stopped making it, probably 20 some years ago.  I do have her recipe and I once tried making it, but it just wasn't the same.  I wish she had lived long enough to bake one with me.  It's one of those recipes that is better when you are shown how to make it.  My Dad found a bakery called Strawberry Hill that makes the traditional English walnut povitica and yes, they deliver.  His note on the gift read:  Enjoy...it tastes like home.  And did it ever!  From the first bite, I was immediately transported back in time to the house I grew up in, standing in the kitchen and slicing a piece of walnut roll, putting a little butter on it and thinking it just doesn't get any better than this!  I was 7 years old...I was 15...there was the excitement of Christmas being near...it was a warm spring morning with summer just around the corner.  I was 17 and picking up my Grandma at her house to bring her over for the holiday...and with her were the two loaves wrapped in colorful Seran Wrap.  "Do you put butter?" she would always asked when you had a slice at her house.  Each bite flooded me with warm memories of my childhood.  It's bittersweet to experience that, especially now that I'm miles from home.  A lot of years have gone by already and the memories take a little bit more effort to recall, but when they surface, there is nothing more filling and satisfying.  I wonder what will be "home" for my kids...what food will make them think back to the holidays, birthdays, or just that sense of who you are.  What will they long for...what will in one bite make them close their eyes and say, "Mmmm...tastes like home!"

PORK CASSOULET

3# pork roast, preferably bone-in such as a Boston Butt

8-10 russet potatoes, peeled and quartered

2-3 cans northern beans, rinsed and drained

1 large onion, cut into wedges

1 head garlic, cloves coarsely chopped

2 C. beef broth

Heat a little olive oil in a roasting pan.  Season the pork with salt and pepper.  Over medium-high heat, brown roast on all sides.  Remove, place a rack inside the pan and return roast.  Add a scant amount of beef broth, just enough to cover the bottom of the pan.  Bake the roast at 325 for 2 hours.  After 2 hours, add the remaining broth along with the potatoes, beans, onion, and garlic.  Add more broth if necessary (potatoes should be halfway covered with broth).  Continue to bake for 1 hour more, or until potatoes are fork tender and roast is cooked through.  Remove the roast, slice, and serve alongside a bowl of the potatoes, beans, onions, and broth.

**  This is a recipe that tastes like home to me.  My Mom would normally make a pork roast with mashed potatoes, rice, and gravy.  Every once in a while she would make this version and it's this one that brings back memories of wintery days, a fire in the fireplace, and that heavenly pork and garlic aroma throughout the house.  I can remember coming home from school and opening the door to that smell...after a long day, there was nothing better than knowing that supper that night was going to be one of your favorite meals.  Comfort food in its truest form.