CELEBRATING AMERICA’S MOM : For Marion Cunningham’s birthday, 100 cooks, bakers, writers and restaurateurs threw a surprise party at the Robert Mondavi winery
James Beard didn’t like people who were too nice,” says Marion Cunningham. “When I was nice, he wanted to kick me.”
Despite this crucial failing, Cunningham managed to work with Beard for many years. “Well,” she says matter-of-factly, “he knew he had more fun when I was around.”
Almost everybody has more fun when Marion Cunningham is around. Which is one reason why, although she lacks Beard’s imposing presence, this beautiful, lanky, down-to-earth all-American has inherited his mantle. If Beard was the father of American cooking, Cunningham has become its mother.
Long before it became chic, she was the champion of American cooking, insisting upon the virtues of iceberg lettuce over mesclun , apple pie over tarte tatin , pot roast over pot au feu. She inspired an entire generation of American cooks, and when Cunningham turned 70 last month, they came from all across America to throw her a birthday bash.
There is nothing like a party thrown by food people for one of their own. Alice Waters of Chez Panisse came up with the idea of having the party. The first problem--finding a room large enough to hold more than 100 people--was solved when Margrit and Robert Mondavi offered to have the party at their winery. Designer Billy Cross volunteered his services to decorate the room--and then every able-bodied cook in Northern California offered to pitch in.
Produce was flown in from the Chino Ranch in Rancho Santa Fe, hickory nuts were hand-picked in Minnesota, special orchids were grown for the tables.
Then there was the invitation problem. Catherine Cunningham went through her mother’s address book to make up the guest list, but dozens of wannabe party-goers were devastated to discover they had not been included. (A few even wrote to Cunningham,after the event; “I thought you loved me!” complained one.)
This was all quite a contrast to Cunningham’s 45th birthday. Twenty-five years earlier, Marion Cunningham stood on the steps of an airplane, crying. “If you don’t get on that plane,” said her son Mark, “you’ll never go anywhere, you’ll never do anything, and you’ll never be anybody.”
At that point Marion Cunningham hadn’t been anywhere. Born in Glendale and married to her childhood sweetheart, she had never even left the state of California. She hadn’t done much either--she was afraid of almost everything. Plagued by phobias so severe that for years she was terrified of transportation of all sorts, Cunningham found elevators so frightening that she now says: “I couldn’t even have children until I found a hospital with a maternity ward on the ground floor.”
But Cunningham had always cooked, and at 45, she finally got off the ground. She conquered her fear of flying and went to Portland to take a class with James Beard. Cunningham was charmed by Beard, and the feeling was entirely mutual. A few years later she became his assistant.
Putting her phobias behind her, she traveled the world with Beard, and when he was asked to revise “The Fannie Farmer Cookbook,” Beard suggested that she do it instead. Unbeknown to Cunningham, he sent a packet of her letters to the publishers as proof that she could write. She has since completed a second revision of Fannie Farmer, “The Fannie Farmer Baking Book,” “The Breakfast Book,” the forthcoming “Supper Book,” and numerous articles for magazines and newspapers.
But to call Cunningham a writer would be to miss the point. She is, above all, a mentor. She reads everything, knows everybody. She is the person who is never too busy to talk. “My first article about food had just been published,” says Jeffrey Steingarten, who writes about food for Vogue magazine, “when the phone rang. It was Marion Cunningham. She wanted to talk about it.”
Cunningham always wants to talk about it. It is that quality that sets her apart from other people. She is blessed with an insatiable curiosity and an overwhelming interest in other people. She is the world’s greatest listener. “I have always loved meeting people,” she says. “I think that has been one of the greatest joys of my life, just finding out about people. They tell you the most amazing things.”
“Did Marion ever tell you about Cecilia Chiang and the 12 suitcases?” asks Alice Waters. She is standing in the kitchen at the Mondavi winery, shelling the first of 22 pounds of shrimp. It is 3 o’clock on the day before the party, and the preparations are getting under way. This time tomorrow there will be three times as many people in the kitchen, but right now a skeleton crew of about eight floats in and out, opening oysters, cracking crabs, peeling carrots.
Waters, who takes no shortcuts even when cooking for 125, sends one group off to shell three crates of infant peas. This turns out to be a chore that takes hours and yields only one tiny bowlful. “Those would be $500 peas if we were doing them in the restaurant,” sighs Jean-Pierre Moulle, a former head chef at Chez Panisse. “We barely managed to persuade Alice that killing the chickens ourselves for the pot pies would be messy, smelly and ugly.”
“I wish we’d done it anyway,” chimes in Waters. She has finished shelling the shrimp, and Moulle chops them while Waters plucks watercress for the salad dressing. Later they will make gallons of mayonnaise--entirely by hand.
The tale of the 12 suitcases turns out to be a complicated one: On a trip to China with Cunningham and Waters, Chiang, founder of the Mandarin restaurants and a force of nature in her own right, was outfitted with a dozen bags. “Marion was amazed,” says Waters. “When it turned out that one of the bags contained nothing but bolts of cloth to be made into clothes, Marion was incredulous. Marion always carries her own luggage.”
Billy Cross marches into the kitchen carrying one of the pots of ruffly pink orchids that he has had grown for the occasion. The magnificent flowers preen in their pots. “You’d expect Marion to like more modest flowers,” he admits, “but I know that pink orchids are her favorites.” He puts the pot down and takes a fingerful of crab. “Do you think Marion has any idea about the party?” he asks. It is a question that is asked again and again as the day wears on.
By 7 p.m. the relaxed camaraderie in the kitchen starts to fray as it becomes clear that there is still a lot of work left to do. The oysters have been opened and the shrimps shelled, chopped, pressed into little pots and covered with melted butter, and the meat has been taken from the shells of two dozen crabs. But the legs of 100 chickens wait to be cooked, beets need to be peeled and pickled, and there are still mounds of vegetables to be dealt with. Then there are the crates of iceberg lettuce; Waters looks at them with definite disdain.
“I really thought we had to have iceberg lettuce,” she sighs. “You know how much Marion loves the stuff. But I figured we could make it palatable with the world’s best Green Goddess Dressing.”
Waters says she chose the menu by considering Cunningham’s down-to-earth tastes, the best foods of the season, and the exigencies of feeding a crowd this large. “Chicken pot pies seemed obvious,” she says, “and then we just built around them.”
The pot pies themselves will be assembled tomorrow, but tonight the chicken is being roasted and the meat removed from the bone. There are periodic calls from chef Paul Bertolli: “Don’t throw out the roasting pans,” he pleads from his post at Chez Panisse in Berkeley. He will arrive in the morning, and he wants to be sure he’ll have pans to scrape to make stock.
He’ll bring the dough for the pie crust with him. “We tested three different kinds of crust,” says Waters, “and although butter was good, we decided that suet was best. It makes an incredible difference.” What will also make an incredible difference in these pies is the quality of the free-range chicken, the tiny, tasty vegetables from the Chino Ranch, and the black and golden chanterelles that are standing in for ordinary mushrooms.
At the moment, though, Waters is looking at a mountain of chicken. “We must get all this chicken ready,” she sighs wearily. It’s pushing 9 p.m., and the crew is starting to look ragged. “There’s so much to do tomorrow.”
By 8:30 a.m. the Mondavi kitchen is in full swing. Yesterday there was room to move, but today there is constant jostling for work space. Bertolli has arrived with an entire crew from Chez Panisse, and the first of the volunteers have started to straggle in. Before the morning is over, Zanne Zakroff, food editor of Gourmet, and Jerry Di Vecchio, food editor of Sunset magazine, will be up to their elbows in chicken stock. Clark Wolf, New York restaurant consultant, will be mincing mushrooms, and Marion Burros of the New York Times will be feeding sustaining slices of buttered bread to the cooks. As chefs and bakers arrive--from New York, Seattle, Chicago, San Francisco and Los Angeles--they will wander into the kitchen to chop, slice and fry. Long before the party out front gets rolling, it is rocking back here.
Now the pastries are beginning to arrive. Waters has asked 18 bakers to bring a birthday cake each. This, everybody knows, is the heart of the meal, for Cunningham would happily forgo dinner for dessert any day of the week.
In fact, days later Cunningham will remember each cake in excruciating detail. “Did you notice how Carol Field’s polenta cakes spelled out 70?” she will ask. “Wasn’t Maggie Waldron’s cake clever? Did you taste Bradley Ogden’s Boston Cream Pie?” And almost the first thing Cunningham will do when she walks in the door to find herself faced with everybody she knows, is to look at pastry chef Jim Dodge and sigh, “Oh good. We’ll get a good dessert.”
Cunningham is not due until 12:30, but most of the guests roll in around 11. As they arrive, they come into the kitchen to see what they can do. “We decided not to have waiters for the party,” says Waters, handing a platter of potted shrimp to Gerald Asher of Gourmet magazine to pass around. “We didn’t want it to be a formal affair.”
Guests stroll around drinking champagne and passing platters of fried oysters wrapped in potatoes to one another. They put the crab toasts and the potted shrimp on the table. And then, as it gets close to the time when Cunningham will be arriving, they start to gather around the door.
Was Cunningham surprised? Undoubtedly. When she walked in the door, she caught her breath and the color drained from her face. Was she pleased?
“If you want to know the truth,” she says later, “it sort of ruined my life. I will never have such a perfect day again.”
THE MENU
Fried Oysters in a Potato Crust
Crab Toasts
Iceberg Lettuce Wedges With Green Goddess Dressing
Potted Shrimp
Chicken Pot Pie
Birthday Cakes
“I’ve done a lot of recipes in potato crusts,” says Paul Bertolli, chef at Chez Panisse, “but these oysters are my favorite. I love the way the crisp coat contrasts with the creamy richness of the oysters.” These are a fair amount of trouble, but they’re worth it. At the party, guests came into the kitchen and helped themselves to the oysters as they came out of the fryer, and then picked up platters to pass to the other guests. Nobody got more than a few feet from the kitchen door before the platter was empty.
OYSTERS IN A POTATO CRUST WITH HORSERADISH CREAM
3 russet potatoes
3 tablespoons olive oil
16 large fresh oysters in shell
About 1/2 cup flour
3 egg whites
Peanut oil for deep frying
Salt
Horseradish Cream
Peel russet potatoes and grate on large hole of grater. Stack 3 or 4 slices of potato together and cut into very fine short julienne. As you cut, transfer julienne to bowl filled with cold water. Rinse potatoes well in colander, return to bowl, soak again, then drain. Repeat process until water in bowl is clear. Drain well and pat-dry in paper towels. Or dry in salad spinner.
Heat olive oil in skillet or large saute pan. Add potatoes to pan and toss to coat with oil. Keep potatoes moving in pan, do not let brown. Continue to heat potatoes until they begin to release starch and are translucent and sticky to touch, about 4 to 5 minutes. Transfer to baking sheet or platter and let cool.
Shell oysters and dust with flour. Dip oysters, 1 at a time, in egg whites, then place on top of potatoes. Using moistened cupped hands, pack julienned potatoes around oysters and set on platter.
Heat peanut oil to 350 degrees. Place oysters gently into hot oil and fry until golden-brown, 3 to 4 minutes, turning oysters over to brown other side. Drain on paper towels. Season to taste with salt.
Transfer oysters to individual warm plates and serve with approximately 2 tablespoons Horseradish Cream for each oyster. Serve while hot. Makes 16 oyster fritters, or 5 servings.
Each serving contains about:
603 calories; 288 mg sodium; 146 mg cholesterol; 35 grams fat; 50 grams carbohydrates; 22 grams protein; 0.8 grams fiber; 53% calories from fat.
Horseradish Cream
1 cup heavy whipping cream
2 tablespoons freshly grated horseradish
Whip cream until soft peaks form. Fold in freshly grated horseradish and serve. Makes about 1 3/4 cups.
“We just adapted a recipe from Elizabeth David,” says Alice Waters of the potted shrimp that were served at the party. She began by buying the most amazing shrimp--huge fresh ones, laden with roe. The roe was scraped into the bowl with the peeled shrimp, which gave the finished dish a particularly rosy hue. The result is unbelievably rich--and extraordinarily delicious when scooped onto little pieces of toast.
POTTED SHRIMP
1 pound large whole shrimp
1 cup butter
Salt
1/8 to 1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper
Peel and devein shrimp. Add any roe to shrimp. Melt 1/2 cup butter in small saucepan over low heat. Skim off foam on surface. Let stand few minutes, then clarify by spooning clear butter off, leaving milky residue in pan. Set clarified butter aside.
Melt 3/4 cup butter in skillet. Add shrimp and roe and quickly saute just until shrimp turns pink. Chop finely and season to taste with salt and pepper. Divide shrimp mixture into 4 (4-ounce) individual ramekins or custard cups, pressing shrimp down. Chill until set. Spoon clarified butter over top to seal. Chill at least 1 hour. Serve with toasted bread and lemon wedges, if desired. Makes 4 to 8 servings.
The chicken pot pies created for the party were a true Alice Waters special: They were made with free-range chickens, baby onions and carrots, fresh peas and both golden and black chanterelles. But when we asked Marion Cunningham for a recipe that was slightly less exotic, she sent us this recipe by Michael James. James, who worked with Simone Beck, is an old friend of Cunningham’s, and his recipe is down to earth and delicious.
DEEP-DISH CHICKEN PIE WITH MUSHROOMS AND FRESH THYME
3 quarts poultry stock
3 pounds whole chicken breasts, at room temperature
Salt
Freshly ground pepper
10 tablespoons unsalted butter
2 dozen baby carrots, peeled
2 cups pearl onions, peeled
2 cups fresh green peas, or 1 (10-ounce) box frozen peas, thawed
1 tablespoon minced shallot
1/2 pound fresh mushrooms, trimmed and washed
3/4 cup heavy whipping cream
1/4 cup flour
2 egg yolks
1 teaspoon fresh thyme leaves, or 1/4 teaspoon dried thyme
Cream Biscuit Dough
Egg wash of 1 egg yolk beaten with 1 tablespoon water
Bring poultry stock to simmer in large pot. Add chicken breasts and poach gently 12 to 15 minutes or until slightly underdone and pink inside. Do not overcook or they will be dry. Remove chicken from stock and set aside to cool. Degrease and reduce liquid in pot to 1 quart.
Remove any skin and bone from chicken and shred meat with fingers into generous bite-sized pieces. Season to taste with salt and pepper. Set aside.
Melt 4 tablespoons butter in heavy-bottomed skillet. Add carrots and pearl onions and season to taste with salt and pepper. Toss or stir vegetables over medium heat 3 to 4 minutes. Add 1/2 cup reduced poultry stock. Cover and cook over very low heat 10 minutes. Add peas and continue cooking 5 to 10 minutes or until vegetables are tender and liquid has reduced. Set aside.
Melt 2 tablespoons butter in another skillet over low heat. Add and gently saute shallot 1 minute. Add mushrooms, then toss or stir over medium heat 2 to 3 minutes. Stir in 1/4 cup whipping cream. Simmer over low heat until mushrooms are tender and cream has reduced, 8 to 10 minutes. Season to taste with salt and pepper. Set aside.
Melt remaining 4 tablespoons butter in heavy-bottomed saucepan. Add flour and stir over medium-low heat 2 to 3 minutes. Add remaining 3 1/2 cups poultry stock and bring to simmer, whisking constantly as sauce thickens. Simmer over low heat 6 to 8 minutes, whisking frequently. Adjust seasonings to taste and remove sauce from heat.
Whisk together 2 egg yolks and remaining 1/2 cup whipping cream in small bowl. Slowly ladle in few tablespoons hot sauce, whisking constantly. Gradually stir cream mixture into hot sauce in pan, return to heat and simmer 2 to 3 minutes more, stirring constantly.
In mixing bowl combine shredded chicken, carrot mixture, mushrooms and cream sauce. Add thyme. Adjust seasonings to taste. Spread mixture evenly into 16-inch oval baking dish, or other baking dish large enough to hold mixture in 1 1/2- to 2-inch layer. (Dish may be completed in advance up to this point. When cool, cover with plastic wrap and refrigerate. Bring to room temperature before proceeding with recipe.) Pour over cream sauce.
Place Cream Biscuit Dough gently over baking dish (pastry does not have to completely cover chicken mixture). Make several deep slashes in dough to allow steam to vent. Brush thoroughly with egg wash.
Bake at 400 degrees 30 to 35 minutes, or until pastry is brown and cooked through. Makes 8 servings.
Each serving contains about:
679 calories; 1,755 mg sodium; 237 mg cholesterol; 46 grams fat; 44 grams carbohydrates; 23 grams protein; 1.7 grams fiber; 61% calories from fat.
Cream Biscuit Dough
2 cups all-purpose unbleached flour
1 teaspoon salt
1 tablespoon baking powder
1/4 cup rendered suet (pork kidney fat), chilled until firm
1 cup heavy whipping cream
Stir together flour, salt and baking powder in small mixing bowl. Blend in suet, then moisten with whipping cream, adding extra drops as necessary to form dough into ball.
On lightly floured surface, roll out dough into oval (or other shape) slightly larger than baking dish to be used. Fold edges under and crimp to form attractive standing border.
For the birthday party, Waters created a super Green Goddess Dressing, a combination of fresh mayonnaise with watercress, fresh tarragon and pureed anchovy fillets. But Cunningham, a true fan of iceberg lettuce, suggests that this recipe, devised by Michael James, is even better at bringing out the cool, crisp quality of the lettuce.
WEDGES OF ICEBERG WITH WHITE CHEDDAR AND CHIVE DRESSING
1 cup olive oil
2 teaspoons white wine vinegar
2 tablespoons lemon juice
4 ounces aged white Cheddar cheese, broken into 5 or 6 pieces
1/4 cup sour cream
1 teaspoon salt
Freshly ground pepper
5 or 6 fresh chives or 1/2 cup watercress leaves, chopped
10 or 12 fresh basil leaves, rinsed
12 generous wedges iceberg lettuce
36 small golden or teardrop tomatoes, washed and sliced in halves
6 small basil sprigs
Combine olive oil, vinegar, lemon juice, cheese, sour cream, salt, pepper to taste, chives and basil leaves in blender or food processor. Blend until well mixed and herbs are chopped.
Do not overmix. Dressing should retain some lumps of Cheddar. Season to taste with salt and pepper. For thinner dressing, add small amount of water. Serve cool or cold over wedges of lettuce and basil sprigs. Makes 1 3/4 cups dressing.
Each serving contains about:
225 calories; 268 mg sodium; 12 mg cholesterol; 22 grams fat; 4 grams carbohydrates; 4 grams protein; 0.7 grams fiber; 88% calories from fat.
“Marion’s always talking about meringue,” says baker Flo Braker, “so I decided to bring this cake.” It’s got all the best qualities of a great white cake combined with the rich sourness of lemon meringue pie.
FLO BRAKER’S LEMON MERINGUE CAKE
3 cups sifted cake flour
2 1/2 teaspoons baking soda
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 cup unsalted butter, at room temperature
2 cups sugar
4 large eggs, at room temperature
1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla
1 cup buttermilk
Lemon Filling
Meringue Frosting
Grease and flour 2 (8-inch) round cake pans. Sift flour, baking powder, baking soda and salt.
Using electric mixer, cream butter until soft and creamy. Add sugar and continue creaming until light and fluffy. Scrape batter from sides of bowl occasionally. Add eggs, 1 at a time, beating well after each addition. Beat in vanilla. Add dry ingredients alternately with buttermilk, beginning and ending with flour mixture.
Spoon batter into cake pans and spread evenly. Bake on rack on lower third of oven at 350 degrees about 40 minutes or until wood pick inserted in center of cake comes out clean and cake begins to pull away from sides of pan. Cool in pans about 10 minutes. Gently tap pans on side, then invert cake layers onto rack to cool completely.
Cut each layer in half to make 4 layers. Spread Lemon Filling equally between 3 layers. Top with remaining layer. Frost top and sides of cake with Meringue Frosting. Makes 12 servings.
Each serving contains about:
566 calories; 164 mg sodium; 232 mg cholesterol; 25 grams fat; 78 grams carbohydrates; 8 grams protein; trace fiber; 40% calories from fat.
Lemon Filling
2 large eggs
3 egg yolks
1/2 cup sugar
6 tablespoons strained lemon juice
1 tablespoon finely grated lemon zest
6 tablespoons unsalted butter, chilled and cut into 6 pieces
In 1 1/2-quart heavy-bottomed saucepan, whisk briefly to combine eggs, egg yolks, sugar, lemon juice and lemon zest. Add pieces of butter and place saucepan over medium heat, stirring constantly over entire bottom. Cook mixture without boiling until it begins to develop body and thickens. Remove from heat and pour through stainless steel sieve into bowl.
Cover surface with plastic wrap, vent to allow few small slits in plastic with tip of paring blade, allowing steam to escape while cooling. Refrigerate (curd will thicken). Makes enough to fill one layered cake.
Meringue Frosting
1/4 cup water
2/3 cup plus 2 tablespoons sugar
1/3 cup large egg whites
1/8 teaspoon cream of tartar
1 teaspoon vanilla
Combine water and 2/3 cup sugar in 3-cup saucepan. Place over low heat, stirring, to dissolve sugar. Increase heat to medium-high and boil, without stirring, until candy thermometer reads 235 degrees. (Wash down any sugar crystals clinging to sides of pan with brush dipped in cold water.) Near end of boiling time, whip egg whites with cream of tartar until soft peaks form. Add remaining 2 tablespoons sugar and continue to whip until whites are stiff but not dry.
With mixer running, pour syrup onto whipped whites. Continue to whip on medium speed, about 3 minutes more or until thickened and forms glossy, stiff peaks. Add vanilla. Cool to room temperature, about 8 to 10 minutes. Makes enough to frost 1 layered cake.
Bradley Ogden, chef/owner of Lark Creek Inn in Marin County, arrived at the party carrying this cake, with “Happy Birthday Marion” written across the top. It ended up sitting in front of Cunningham, who kept urging her friends to taste it. Ogden sent us the recipe, which we modified slightly.
BOSTON CREAM PIE
Vanilla Cake
Custard Filling
Chocolate Glaze
Bake Vanilla Cake 1 day ahead or in enough time to cool completely, at least 2 to 4 hours. Make Custard Filling 1 day ahead or in enough time to cool completely, at least 4 to 6 hours. Make Chocolate Glaze and set aside to cool.
Turn cake upside down and cut into 2 layers. Fill with custard and frost with cooled glaze. Makes 12 servings.
Each serving contains about:
694 calories; 521 mg sodium; 135 mg cholesterol; 46 grams fat; 70 grams carbohydrates; 9 grams protein; 0.6 grams fiber; 59% calories from fat.
Vanilla Cake
4 egg whites
1 cup milk
3 cups cake flour, sifted
1 1/4 cups sugar
1 1/2 tablespoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 1/4 cups butter, melted
1 vanilla bean, seeds only
Combine egg whites and 1/4 cup milk in bowl. Resift cake flour with sugar, baking powder and salt into mixer bowl. Add melted butter, seeds from vanilla bean and remaining 3/4 cup milk.
Beat 3 minutes. Add reserved whites and milk and stir to combine. Pour into greased 10-inch cake pan and bake at 350 degrees 30 to 40 minutes or until center tests done. Makes 1 (10-inch) cake.
Custard Filling
1/2 cup sugar
2 tablespoons flour
4 teaspoons cornstarch
2 large eggs
2 cups milk
6 tablespoons unsalted butter
1/2 teaspoon vanilla
Sift together sugar, flour and cornstarch in mixing bowl. Add eggs and beat until light. Bring milk to boil in heavy-bottomed saucepan. Stir half milk into egg mixture, then pour whole mixture back into saucepan. Cook over medium-high heat, stirring vigorously with wire whisk, until cream thickens and center bubbles.
Continue cooking and stirring another 30 seconds. Remove from heat and stir in butter and vanilla. Transfer to bowl and cool to room temperature, stirring occasionally, then cover with plastic wrap and refrigerate 4 to 6 hours. Makes 2 1/4 cups.
Chocolate Glaze
12 ounces semisweet or bittersweet chocolate
1 cup heavy whipping cream
2 teaspoons corn syrup
Chop chocolate and place in top of double boiler with whipping cream. Melt over hot water until completely smooth. Stir in corn syrup. Cool to room temperature. Makes enough glaze for 1 (10-inch) double-layer cake.
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