Arthur Sheekman's Cinnamon Toast, Circa 1943

When I was a child, my father made me two things for breakfast according to his mood: Mashed Eggs and Cinnamon Toast.
Mashed Eggs were a Clean Out The Icebox sort of dish...chunks of salami (sometimes Daddy absent-mindedly left the papery covering on)...cheese (often Liederkranz, his favorite, oh so stinky and no longer made in this country, alas)...orange glints of lox (he used cream cheese with the lox, thank heaven, not Liederkranz)...and pickled onions (he sliced up onions, covered them with cider vinegar, kept them in a jar in the fridge)...lots of salt and black pepper. All were beaten together in a soupy mix of eggs, scrambled over slow heat in an astonishing amount of butter in his favorite skillet, then poured (Daddy liked his eggs s*o*f*t*) onto the plate. I never really liked Mashed Eggs, but I was also so charmed and complimented that my father wanted to cook for me, I ate them with a smile.
What brought a genuine smile to my face was Daddy's Cinnamon Toast. It's so simple a concoction, one tends to forget about it--at least, I do, for years at a time. But this morning I was seized by the need to taste it again. I made it in two versions, one with granulated sugar, the other with powdered sugar. As I suspected, I liked the one with powdered sugar best. In the heat of the broiler, some of the little white balls firm up a bit and they are crunchy when you bite them, yum.
I've just Googled recipes for Cinnamon Toast, and I'm surprised to find no one makes it the way my father did. Most recipes want you to mix the cinnamon and sugar. No. The beauty of the toast, I feel, is the snowy (when you use the powdered) sugar under rich reddish brown drifts of cinnamon. When the golden butter bubbles up beneath, your cinnamon toast is not only fragrant but beautiful.
So here is my father's cinnamon toast.
Per serving:
2 large slices good white or wheat* bread
About 2 tablespoons soft butter
About 4 teaspoons confectioner's sugar
Best quality cinnamon from a shaker top
Heat the broiler while you toast the bread as usual...not too dark.
Quickly spread each slice of bread with butter, completely covering the surface.
Use a spoon to sprinkle over the sugar, completely covering the butter.
Shake on cinnamon in drifts over the sugar--be generous.
Place under the broiler--keep an eye on it!--until the butter bubbles and you can smell the cinnamon. Serve at once, especially to a child.
*Rye and sour dough are not recommended, their flavors fight with the cinnamon.

"The Best Ever" Sour Cream Blueberry Make-Ahead Pancakes

In my 1972 edition of "Farm Journal's Country Cookbook" (one of my very most favorite cookbooks) is a recipe for Sour Cream/Blueberry Pancakes. Next to it my daughter Amanda (our family's Princess of Baking) drew a star and wrote, "The best ever!" I'd forgotten about these pancakes partly because I forget to make pancakes on Sunday mornings (we're currently big on popovers) and partly because I rarely have sour cream on hand. Well, last Sunday I had both a yen for pancakes and sour cream in the fridge.
They really are good...and what makes them outstanding is this end note: "If you have leftover batter, cover and store in the refrigerator. It will keep 2 or 3 days..." I did, and this morning, Tuesday, I whomped up another dozen for my breakfast. They were yummy.
What a treat to make the batter when you think of it on the weekend, then Sunday morning when you're not yet awake, fire up the griddle and a few minutes later, scoop up a mountain of "the best ever" delicate berried pancakes. I like them topped with jam...
This makes about 30 2½-inch cakes.
1 cup unbleached flour
1 tablespoon baking powder
1 tablespoon sugar
¼ teaspoon salt
1 egg
1 cup milk
¼ cup sour cream (or ¼ cup yogurt and 1 more tablespoon melted butter*)
2 tablespoons melted butter
Heaping ½ cup blueberries or mixed berries, fresh or thawed frozen
In a medium-size bowl, use a fork to blend the dry ingredients. In a smallish bowl, beat together the egg, milk, and sour cream until blended. Add wets to dries and beat with a rotary beater until just smooth. Stir in the melted butter then the berries.
Bake immediately or cover and refrigerate, then stir to blend again before baking.
Bake as usual on a medium-hot buttered griddle by the 2-tablespoonsful.
Yes, there is no baking soda in this recipe, which surprises me, and yes, it is a lot of baking powder.
*You can also substitute soured milk (place 3/4 teaspoon cider vinegar or lemon juice in a ¼ cup measure and fill with milk, wait a few moments for it to curdle) or buttermilk...remember to add the extra tablespoon of butter.

Warm Summer's Berries with Vanilla Ice Cream

Last night--New Year's Eve supper--for dessert after a first course of red salmon caviar and a main course of moules marinières, I adapted a recipe in "Jeremiah Tower Cooks" called Warm Fruit Stew. I had written on the page, "Perfection. Divine." Although purists would feel it's poor form to serve a summer dessert in the thick of winter, I felt it was the ideal ending to a rich but simple meal--and what the heck, bringing summer's warmth to the end-of-the-year table felt optimistic. Besides, where these berries came from, it was summer. Purists shmurists...
My addition to Tower's recipe was also simple. Years ago when I was putting together a piece about granités for Vogue magazine, I found a note buried in Escoffier: to heighten the flavor of red fruits, add a touch of orange and lemon...to all other fruits, add a touch of lemon. This is the sort of inspired observation that elevates cookery.
I love it when a composition with few ingredients emerges grander than the sum of its parts. This is an easy, elegant and festive dessert that merits a top spot in the sophisticated cook's repertoire, summer OR winter.
Light Syrup:
2 rounded tablespoons sugar (vanilla sugar, if you have it)
1/3 cup water
1/2-inch-wide strip of zest from around the middle of 1 tangerine or orange
Berries:
1 cup hulled and halved strawberries
1 cup blackberries
1 cup blueberries
Finish:*
1 tablespoon unsalted butter, softened
2 teaspoons fresh lemon juice
Pinch of coarse salt
1 pint vanilla bean ice cream (I recommend Häagen-Dazs "five")
The syrup is quickly made (and can be prepared hours in advance or put together just before using): combine sugar and water in a small skillet, stir over medium-high heat till sugar dissolves, simmer 5 minutes, stirring occasionally. Meanwhile, scrape off any white from the back of the zest, then cut zest crosswise into slivers. Remove syrup from the heat and blend in the zest. Cover until needed.
Just before serving, combine the berries and syrup in a largish skillet and gently stir to coat the berries. Cook over medium heat 2 minutes, shaking the skillet, add the butter, lemon juice, and salt and continue shaking until the butter melts, another minute. Serve at once on plates with a dollop of ice cream in the center.
NB: Tower calls this a stew and wants it served on plates...I think of it as a compote and would have reached for pretty bowls, but who am I to contradict Jeremiah Tower?
*I had the butter, juice, and salt in a saucer by the stove, ready to go.