Simply Scratch: 120 Wholesome Homemade Recipes Made Easy - Hardcover

McNamara, Laurie

Hardcover

ISBN 10: 158333579X ISBN 13: 9781583335796

Publisher: Avery, 2015

Synopsis

From the popular blogger behind Simply Scratch comes a debut cookbook of easy and accessible family recipes — the new bible for cooking with whole foods.

For Laurie McNamara, growing up on a farm in the country had major perks: her mother cooked with vegetables from the family garden, they collected fresh eggs from the chicken coop, and absolutely everything—from ketchup to casseroles—was made 100 percent from scratch, with whole foods. When McNamara moved away from home, though, she found herself too busy to prepare from-scratch meals, between working full time and raising two kids. Like most Americans, she relied on boxed brownie mix, canned soup, bottled dressings, and frozen dinners to make home cooking quicker and cheaper. But she soon learned that these so-called shortcuts were in fact both more expensive and light-years less healthy than simply making everything herself.

Eventually, she’d had enough and vowed to remake her kitchen into a from-scratch kitchen. Now, five years later, McNamara has helped hundreds of thousands of home cooks prepare from-scratch meals with whole-food ingredients through her blog, Simply Scratch.

McNamara’s highly anticipated debut cookbook, Simply Scratch, brings her home-cooking know-how to the nation, with 120 wholesome, tasty recipes along with stunning photography, entertaining anecdotes, and personal musings. This book offers easy recipes for delectable concoctions such as Buckwheat Pancakes, Veggie Pesto Pizza, Creamy Roasted Tomato Soup, and Fudy Chocolate Toffee-Topped Brownies.

Simply Scratch will be the must-have bible to cooking beyond the box and can. Featuring a down-to-earth approach and family recipes that use everyday ingredients, Simply Scratch proves cooking from scratch can be affordable, simple, fun, and—of course—absolutely delicious.

About this title

About the Author:

Laurie McNamara started her blog, Simply Scratch, in February 2010. Four years later, Simply Scratch logs more than 300,000 unique visits every month and has been featured on Good Morning America, in Woman’s World, and on Jamie Oliver’s blog, and the audience continues to grow. McNamara is also a recipe developer, taster, and food photographer; she partners with companies such as Simply Organic, Fair Trade USA, STAR Fine Foods, and The Pampered Chef to develop recipes, special blog posts, and hosted giveaways through Simply Scratch. McNamara is a member of the BlogHer network and is an active participant in the larger food blogging community. Before Simply Scratch, McNamara worked for years as an emergency unit care coordinator in her local hospital’s emergency room.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.:

 

Acknowledgments

Introduction

It all started thirtysomething years ago. I grew up in Ortonville, Michigan, a small rural town in the northern part of Oakland County. Imagine your left hand is the state of Michigan; if you were to hold it up in front of you, Ortonville would be an inch over from where the crook of your thumb and first finger meet. Ortonville was (and still is) primarily made up of dirt roads, farms, and a quaint little downtown with that small-community feel. When I was a girl, there were no major shopping malls or fast-food chains, not unless you count the A&W drive-in and the Frosty Boy where we’d get ice cream after T-ball games. The lone family restaurant in town had the absolute best breadsticks and kiddy cocktails ever. Next to that, there was a small grocery store. Ortonville, Michigan—it was a small town.

My parents packed up and moved from the city so they could build a beautiful two-story home on a two-acre lot. It was the perfect place to raise a family; there was plenty of space for us kids to run wild, the horses had a small pasture to roam, and we grew a beautiful garden. Our property was complete with a horse corral and a tack room, which held the hay, feed, bridles, and essential grooming gear. The tack room floor was scattered with hay, and my sisters and I spent many afternoons playing there. These days, I can’t breathe in the smell of hay and not think of that place and the countless hours I spent playing in it as a young girl.

Growing up on a farm meant my family had access to the freshest foods and produce. This was one of the many perks of living where I did. Rather than buying eggs at the local market, we had only to stroll out to the chicken coop to collect fresh ones. It’s easy, if not tempting, however, to think that collecting fresh eggs from chickens is a leisurely activity—movies would have you believe that all you need to do is lift up the roof of a chicken coop and take a freshly laid egg straight from a plump hen’s nest. Actually, it’s quite the opposite: my family kept a rooster, and we had a deeply rooted fear of him and tried to dodge his attacks while we collected eggs. He’d come after you in a heartbeat. Thankfully, I was too young to collect the chicken eggs; my oldest two sisters had the unlucky responsibility of handling that job. I remember a particular time when they escaped from his clutches, bleeding. I never envied them this chore. That said, I’ve never tasted better eggs in my life.

One of the greatest treasures from my childhood was our family garden. I spent many summer days wandering through the rows of vegetables, fruits, and flowers. I recall my parents planting rows of corn, russet potatoes, green beans, peas, carrots, and tomatoes, but my absolute favorite parts of the garden were the strawberry patch and raspberry bush. When I was a kid, you’d find me outside at all times riding my bike, catching frogs, and snatching a berry or three (or five) while on my way to our rickety metal swing set. Every once in a while—if we were lucky—my parents would allow my sisters and me to pull a carrot straight from the soil to eat fresh. We’d rinse it off with the garden hose and plop down on the deck steps to eat our prize. Of my many wonderful memories, these moments are among my favorites.

When I was indoors, I was keenly aware of all the smells coming from our kitchen. My mom’s cooking was magical, to say the least—she knew how to make three unbelievably delicious meals a day for a large family, sourcing most of the ingredients straight from our backyard or nearby co-op.

I loved coming home after a day at school to discover we were having baked chicken for dinner that night. I could smell it just moments before entering the house: the wafting scent of spices and baking chicken would linger outside our front door. It was a comforting smell. Some of my earliest food-obsessed memories start at my mother’s counter. I’d pull up the rusty brown step stool to watch her hands while she kneaded pizza dough, frosted a cake, or stirred a pot of sloppy joe sauce. I can still remember the feeling of the nonslip, sandpaperlike grit under my bare feet while I “helped” my mom in the kitchen. Even today, her pizza remains one of my favorite dishes: just like when I was growing up, she makes it with a deep golden crust and the perfect smattering of toppings and cheese. She always wore her deep blue and goldenrod–trimmed floral apron, which she recently passed down to me, and never failed to turn out the perfect pizza.

If we were lucky, a homemade dessert would find its way onto the table at the end of a meal. (My fingers were permanently crossed for her Mississippi Mud Pie—you can find the recipe here.) The irony of it all, however, is that I was such a picky eater—I was the child who hated cooked vegetables; spices always felt too strong on my tongue; baked potatoes induced gag reflexes in my throat (I’d even hide whole bites of it in my milk glass and just eat the pats of butter instead); and tomatoes, which in my young mind were sour tasting, would always remain around the edge of my salad bowl. If my mom wasn’t home to cook a meal, that would put my dad on dinner duty. And boy, did I put him through the wringer (I knew better than to give my mom a hard time), whining about how I didn’t want whatever it was he was making for dinner that night, begging him to just make me a peanut butter and jelly sandwich instead—because, truthfully, I could have eaten those every single day. I still could, actually. . . .

As I grew older, I became less picky. Trying new foods like cheesecake for the first time were big moments for me. I’d always been too stubborn to try it because, as a kid, I couldn’t begin to comprehend what kind of cake could possibly taste good with cheese in it. (I could kick myself for the years I wasted refusing to try it!) I’ve requested cheesecake for every birthday or gathering since that first fateful bite. Guacamole was another one: it was green; therefore, for a long time I thought it was gross. But once I dragged a crisp, salty chip through it and took a bite, I was sold—now my family eats guacamole or avocado dip at least twice a week (even my husband loves it, and he was a guacamole hater until he met me).

So, as my palate and I both matured, my desire to cook and explore my family’s cooking traditions grew, too. I fell in love with the feel of chopping vegetables, the sound of sauce simmering, and the sense of triumph as I’d pull a homemade cake out of the oven. I’d be doubly happy (or impressed with myself!) if the cake was delicious and moist. In high school, at age fourteen, I met Pat, my future husband. Like me, he is one of the pickiest eaters I’ve ever known. He’s pickier than I ever was, if that’s even possible. To this day, if a recipe gets a thumbs-up review from him, I know it’s a hit and I not-so-secretly jump for joy.

In my early twenties, I found I’d lost sight of my roots when it came to food. I was a young wife and mother working a full-time job and raising two little girls. I wanted to provide my family with substantial meals, reminiscent of the ones my mother would prepare when I was growing up. I did my best to achieve this, despite how difficult it was to regularly cook three fresh meals a day. Like most American families, I relied on boxed meal substitute, canned soups, processed foods, boxed baking mixes—the list goes on and on. It was only a short time ago that I had a bit of a revelation, though. One day, while I was reaching into my pantry for a box of brownie mix, a simple life-changing thought dawned on me: This is not how my mom used to do it. It was a visceral moment. I felt disappointed that I was not cooking healthier meals, that I was letting my girls eat hyperprocessed foods as frequently as, if not more often than, fresh fruits and vegetables. I remember asking myself right then, When did it become the norm that brownies come from a box? Then more questions reverberated through my head as I looked at my pantry: How is it that canned soup is the only way to make a dish creamy and luscious? And does spaghetti sauce have to come from a jar, or is there another way? My mother used to grind her own wheat into flour in our pantry, and there I was making brownies from a mix.

Then an idea flooded through me: I knew right then and there that I needed to find a way to make these things, everything, from scratch, just as my mother had. I made a pact with myself to do this, and while I knew I didn’t have all day to prepare our meals—heck, I was a mom and I worked a full-time job—I was determined to find a way to eliminate as many boxed, canned, and prepackaged mixes and ingredients from my kitchen as possible. I was going to reinvent the term “from scratch” and make my kitchen into one just like my family had when I was growing up.

As the years rolled on, I attempted all kinds of recipes, including ones for household basics such as breads, barbecue sauce, mayonnaise, and ketchup. I adapted some of my mother’s treasured classic recipes for my own kitchen, and I dreamed up new ones to share with my girls. I took inspiration from cookbooks and restaurants or from meals with friends and family for new dishes or techniques I’d never tried before. I wrote all my successful recipes down in a red composition notebook, and my collection grew rapidly over time. My goal was to develop strategies to maintain a purely from-scratch kitchen, so that our family could eat affordably, conveniently, and more healthfully. Slowly but surely, I successfully removed all hyperprocessed foods from my kitchen. In early 2010, I started my blog, Simply Scratch, to chronicle my from-scratch adventure and share it with friends and family. I quickly realized that people were shocked (impressed?) not only that I was attempting to cook exclusively from scratch, but that I was succeeding. I wanted to show them just how easy a whole-food, from-scratch lifestyle was, and the result has been incredible. Simply Scratch has walked thousands of home cooks—moms and dads, novice and experienced home chefs, and foodies—step-by-step through my favorite from-scratch recipes. With hundreds of recipes in my archive, my blog has become a go-to resource for home cooks as they plan their meals throughout the week. My blog is my creative outlet, my passion. It humbles me to be connected with readers around the world who write to share their success at making their first recipe from scratch or from those looking for healthier alternatives to avoid additives in prepackaged or canned ingredients. With the success of my blog, I was able to quit my full-time job to blog exclusively, and I’ve never looked back. It’s a dream come true to be writing this book and to share with you the recipes I hold near and dear.

I’ve always believed food forms the bonds that make our memories and family connections. It’s very important to me that we all sit down for dinner every night and that Sundays are our family breakfast day. My favorite thing in the world is having my girls help me cook in the kitchen just like I used to help my mom. I find inspiration in everything around me, from seasonal fruits, vegetables, and the herbs that grow in my garden, to dishes I’ve had at restaurants that I simply have to make at home because they were so delicious. Basically, I like to cook the meals that I like to eat (who doesn’t, right?), and this book is a reflection of that.

In the beginning of this cookbook you will find recipes for simple pantry basics such as mayo, ketchup, starches, and sauces, items that we all typically buy every week. You’ll have the option to make these from scratch and to use them throughout the recipes that follow. You can’t go wrong with any of these DIY basics. They’re simple, approachable, and without a doubt delicious. To those who fear cooking from scratch is too challenging, I promise you that once you nail down the basics and properly stock your pantry, you’ll soon realize that making homemade meals can become as second nature as breathing. Just take your first step. Soon you’ll be high-fiving yourself after a darn good 100 percent from-scratch meal!

Since that fateful day with the brownie mix, it has always been my goal to use fresh, healthy ingredients and to cook from scratch. I hope you enjoy the many scrumptious recipes in this book, as they are tried and true, from my kitchen to yours.

—LAURIE

CHAPTER ONE

Basics

The Scratch Pantry

My pantry wasn’t always a scratch pantry. If we were to teleport back in time to just six years ago and land smack-dab in the center of my old kitchen, my cooking—and my life—would be in stark contrast to what it is today. First, it would literally be a different kitchen, since we moved a few years ago. But you’d also see clearly that I seriously lacked confidence as a home cook.

My old, white-veneered, plywood pantry cabinet was a very well-loved and well-used treasure from Target, but it also was a mess. It was stuffed, in no order, with cans of cream-of-whatever soup, jars of premade pasta sauce, baking supplies, not to mention several opened bags of chocolate chips crammed into ziplock baggies (to satisfy my occasional craving for a spoonful of peanut butter topped with chocolate chips). There was also a basket filled with jarred herbs, spices and spice blends, boxes of macaroni and cheese, eight different kinds of cereal, and usually a box of brownie mix. Okay, so maybe two boxes, plus a tub of frosting. I cringe. My husband once used the term “food hoarder” to describe me, and while I try not to say this too often, he was completely right.

Today, I would proudly show you my pantry and cupboards: they’re tidy and organized, and over the years they’ve been transformed into well-stocked shelves with crucial from-scratch cooking necessities. No canned soups, boxed mixes, or jars of sauce. (I’ve even got a shelf dedicated to lots of different vinegars. Some habits are hard to break, and buying infused vinegars is a weakness of mine. . . .)

But it took a while to get from point A to point B. When I decided to start cooking exclusively from scratch, I faced a frustratingly simple (but terrifying) question: Where do I even begin? I vividly remember looking around at my kitchen while trying to decide what to do first. Should I toss the Cheez-Its and frostings and cake mixes, and empty every square inch of my cupboard? Or should I just eat everything in sight so I’m not wasting all that money by throwing everything in the trash? Do I need to go to Bed Bath & Beyond and purchase every pot, pan, and kitchen tool known to man? It seemed pretty daunting, even overwhelming, and I was suddenly regretting never having a wedding shower. . . .

Right down to my cooking tools, I literally had to start from scratch.

But here’s the best advice I learned to keep in mind as you get started: you don’t have to make the transition all at once, but once you make the decision, begin making changes at your very next trip to the grocery store. Why wait? Transforming your kitchen to a fr...

About this edition

• Publisher: Avery
• Publication date: 2015
• ISBN 10: 158333579X
• ISBN 13: 9781583335796
• Binding: Hardcover
• Number of pages: 336