Cooking class

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I recently met two young men who are students at the Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts. One was born and raised in Paris (his parents are American) and the other hails from San Francisco. I chatted in French with Pierre and the subject soon turned to food.

"How did you learn to cook?" he asked.

This question usually comes up when people discover food is my business and passion.

I learned to cook during graduate school. I shared the top two floors of a Victorian walk-up near Penn with three roommates. All they wanted was junk food, pizza and Chinese takeout.

I love hoagies and cheesesteaks as much as anyone, but this steady diet was taking its toll on my waistline and pocketbook. I made a deal with them: I would cook and they would clean up. I also discovered how much fun it was to shop for ingredients.

My "batterie de cuisine" consisted of pots, pans and other equipment I soon tagged Graduate Student Renaissance. Everything was hand-me-downs. Still, it belonged to me and, as I cooked, I saved my pennies (they went further than they do today), but I longed for the day when I could purchase my first Le Creuset and copper pot.

I clearly recall the first dinner I made for my roommates. I tossed together iceberg lettuce, cucumbers and tomatoes and topped it with bottled Italian dressing courtesy of Kraft. I toasted garlic bread in the oven, using club rolls because Le Bus and Metropolitan were yet to be born, baked a spinach lasagna and served ice cream for dessert. We sipped glasses of Inglenook Burgundy jug wine with our meal.

The four of us were in culinary heaven.

Times have changed since my early cooking days. The ingredients now commonplace were unheard of then. Arugula, cilantro, shiitake and cremini mushrooms, radicchio and a host of other vegetables were not in plain sight. Thai and Vietnamese fare had yet to influence how we cook and eat out in Philadelphia. Students today want to learn how to cook. They long for the time when they can get off the food plan offered in the dorms, move to their first apartment, stand in front of their own stoves and cook.

I did not own many cookbooks when I first started in the kitchen. One of my roommates, who was from St. Louis, owned a vegetarian one that I devoured cover-to-cover (it’s how I learned to make spinach lasagna). I soon started my own collection and realized recipes are just guidelines. I enjoyed ad-libbing with ingredients, substituting one or a handful for others. My nose and taste buds led me to create my own dishes.

One day a roommate brought home a wonderful gift. It was half a huge rib roast her mother prepared for dinner over the weekend. This was serious beef: It was rare, it was juicy and it spoke to me. As I picked on it, I decided to make my first Roast Beef Hash. I improvised and, on a cool autumn evening a long time ago, brought smiles all around our secondhand dining table.


Roast Beef Hash

Ingredients:

4 tablespoons of canola oil

1 large onion, diced

2 medium Yukon Gold potatoes, diced

4 cups leftover roast beef, cubed

Dash of Worcestershire sauce

Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper, to taste

Directions:

Heat the oil over medium-high in a large skillet. Add the onion and saute for about three minutes. Saute the potatoes with the onions for about five minutes. Add the beef and saute until heated. Add the remaining ingredients and blend well.

Serves four.

Note from Phyllis: Yukon Gold potatoes cook quickly so do not overcook. I used Idahos when I first made this because Yukon Golds had yet to appear in our markets. Feel free to add one or two diced, cooked red beets; you will end up with Red Flannel Hash.


Garlic Rolls

Ingredients:

4 club rolls, halved

1 stick of butter

1 tablespoon of canola oil

Garlic powder, to taste

Sweet imported Hungarian paprika, to taste

Directions:

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.

Place the rolls on a cookie sheet.

Melt the butter and oil in a saucepan over medium heat. Brush each roll with the melted butter mixture. Top with the garlic powder and paprika.

Bake for about 10 to 15 minutes, or until slightly crisp.

Serves four.

Note from Phyllis: When I first made Garlic Bread, I did not have fresh garlic on hand. I used the powder and still feel it works best here.