My grandma in Kansas was the Queen of Jello Salads and we totally loved her noon day dinners for her Jell-O side dishes.  She always did a little extra thing with the jello and took our meal up a notch in the mind of a six year old,  shaved carrots and pineapple into orange jello was like the food of the gods.

She also made pickled eggs which I loved so much that I gorged on them and now can’t bear the thought of those bright pink eggs in beet juice.  But I digress.

I think in Kansas they never called the noon day meal  ’lunch’, it was always ‘dinner’.  Later in the day it was ’supper’.  I’ve noticed in talking with my younger sister that it’s supper at her house.  I’m not sure what Tammy calls those meals.  We have lunch and dinner here, never supper.  What do you call that noon-ish meal?

Anyway, what I really wanted to say about my grandma Spaniol was that she taught me how to make some incredible egg noodles.  It is the sort of thing that would be insulted with a recipe, you had to just know the ingredients and the quantities, you had to get the feel for what you were making.

I went to college in Kansas and  spent weekends at my grandparents’, until I met Andrew, then I stayed put on campus.  One of those weekends when I was visiting, my grandma took the opportunity to show me how to make egg noodles.  And it occurred to me that I have never passed this incredible family recipe on to any of my daughters.  So here it is in all its simplicity.

In a bowl, crack an egg.

Fill half the shell with whole milk and add to the egg.  Beat lightly with a fork.

Now, add flour until it reaches the right consistency for rolling.

Roll out to about 1/8″  thick.  Cut with an herb cutter, (visible in the photo)

Let dry on a cooling rack or separated on a cloth, checkered like you live on a farm in Kansas.

When almost ready to eat add to boiling broth and cook until done.

These  photos are courtesy of my sister, Beth, who actually got around to making a batch of noodles and chicken soup.  She kicked these noodles up a notch by adding fresh cracked pepper and sage.  And she also uses a bit of salt in the noodles or in the water, but my grandma didn’t add any salt when she made them so I would call salt optional.

So I fearlessly agreed to make the dinner portion for a progressive dinner wherein  each course of the meal is  eaten at a different house.

The RSVP’s started coming in and at final count we are at 36, a small army of people to be served a sit down meal in a house in an hour.

That’s where my dear friend (MDF) comes in and agrees to have the whole lot to her house for the sit down dinner part and total relief sweeps over me.

An all day cooking event made the whole thing worthwhile.  Four of us banded together with a huge chunk of meat and a wheelbarrow full of vegetables and worked for  five hours.

Give Andrew a big hunk of beef to deal with and he is in heaven.  So, he and John cut the beef and seared it etc. for five hours!   MDF and I peeled, chopped and diced the vegetables for five hours!  And I am here to tell you that it takes some really strongly cemented friendships to be in the kitchen chopping, cutting, measuring and cooking for five hours and manage to come out with only one small flesh wound.

And have I ever mentioned Andrew’s total obsession with neat and clean? Have I ever mentioned that he took our freshly cut tree from the woods through the car wash before bringing it into the house?  And have I ever mentioned that I love this about Andrew because I am not fastidious and so we complete one another? Well… our cooking came to a screeching halt about three hours into the event when everything totally shut down so Andrew could clean all five filters of our oven vent.

But back to the cooking.

After seeing Julia and Julie, the Boeuf Bourguignon seemed like the thing to make for thirty-six  people even though I have to resort to a google search every time I spell ‘bourguignon’.  That and  Créme Fraîche mashed potatoes all comfortably nestled in a bowl with a little parsley for garnish.

But thirty-six people, my gosh!, I thought, “nix the créme fraîche, I mean, who’d really know if we used créme fraîche for the mashed potatoes!?”  And then the guilt sets in and MDF is beginning to ask about us doing the créme fraîche and then I begin to research this créme fraîche thing and discover it is actually not that hard to make.  Well, in fact it’s a breeze:

2 cups of whipping cream mixed with 3 Tablespoons of buttermilk in a bowl and then cover with a cloth, a cute cloth mind you, like your kitchen was translated to France, and leave on the counter for about 24 hours in winter (less in summer).  When it thickens, put it in the fridge for up to one week.  The taste is divine!  It is heavenly tangy creaminess that surely everyone will be asking, “¿What is this certain je ne sais quoi?”

And the Boeuf Bourguignon is really a terrifically simple recipe as well:

• 6 oz. thick-cut bacon, diced
• 3 1/2 to 4 lb. chuck roast, cut into 1-inch cubes
• salt and freshly ground pepper, to taste
• 2 small onions, diced
• 2 carrots, peeled and diced
• 2 celery stalks, diced
• 3 garlic cloves, minced
• 1 Tbs. tomato paste
• 3/4 lb.  mushrooms, sliced
• 3 Tbs. Dijon mustard
• 1 bay leaf (though I am skeptical that you can really taste a single little bay leaf in a big old pot of stew, we did use them)
• wine- to taste, maybe a cup or so
• 1 1/2 cups beef broth

In a large sauté pan over medium-high heat, cook the bacon, stirring occasionally, until crisp, 10 to 11 minutes. Drain on paper towels. Pour the bacon fat into a bowl.

Season the beef generously with salt and pepper. Brown in pan on medium-high heat in 2 Tbs. of the bacon fat until well browned, 8 to 10 minutes per batch. Transfer to a bowl.

Reduce the heat to medium and warm 1 Tbs. of the bacon fat in pan. Add the onions, carrots and celery and cook, stirring occasionally, until softened, about 10 minutes. Add the garlic and tomato paste and cook for 1 minute. Add the mushrooms and sauté until lightly browned, 10 to 12 minutes. Stir in the mustard, beef, bacon, bay leaf, broth, salt and pepper and bring to a simmer.  Simmer until the beef is tender.  Serve over Créme Fraîche mashed potatoes.
Serves 6 to 8.

I smelled bouef bourguigon in my sleep, in Andrew’s hair, everywhere.  It permeated the house and stayed for days!  And I have to say, it was a most wonderful smell.  I wonder if  burnt offerings smelled something like this.  I think so.  It was heavenly.