Witchy Kitchen

Author: Carrie Hartzell

  • Seven Dates….Stuffed Dates

    Seven Dates….Stuffed Dates

    Seven days…

    The Ring (2002), directed by Gore Verbinski, was the movie that launched a myriad of J-horror remakes, and with its haunting atmosphere and compelling storyline, it’s not hard to see why. A viewing of an intensely creepy videotape, followed by the piercing ring of a phone call promises death to the viewer in seven days; it’s presented as an urban legend but immediately proves true. Naomi Watts’s performance as Rachel, a reporter and single mother trying to track down the origin of the mysterious tape, steadily builds from intelligent and curious to disturbed and desperate. All together there’s an expertly crafted sense of impending doom. 

    For a recipe, I wanted to try something a little different. Seven Dates is almost too cute a food pun, but each variation on a stuffed date is an opportunity to tie back to the film. There’s a bit of a formula: something creamy, something crunchy, something both sweet and salty. Through these variations, there’s some inspiration from Japan, origin of the original film, as well as the setting of the remake: moody, rainy Seattle. There’s a nod to little Aiden (David Dorfman), Rachel’s precocious son. And then we have takes on the classic Devils on Horseback which tie in perfectly with the film’s bleak theme. 

    Each version below makes 12 dates, and they’re all extremely simple – so you can stick to one, or divide the measurements and make several kinds at once! The measurements are approximate, it will depend on the size dates you have, but none of these are fussy and you can adjust accordingly. For all dates, slit down lengthwise and remove the pit if necessary. 

    Date 1: Miso Sesame Dates

    These have a bit of a Japanese flavor profile, with salty/umami miso, creamy tahini, and toasty sesame seeds. 

    Whisk together 2 teaspoons miso, 2 tablespoons tahini, and a teaspoon honey. Fill dates and sprinkle with toasted sesame seeds. 

    Date 2: Anko Kinako Dates

    These also have a Japanese flavor profile that is similar to Japanese sweets such as dango. Anko is sweet red bean paste that’s very versatile – it can be smooth or textured, and used as a topping or filling. You can get it storebought, or make your own (here’s a recipe from Just One Cookbook). Kinako is toasted soybean flour, and has a delightful nutty flavor, and a light smooth texture perfect for dusting. 

    Fill dates with anko, you’ll need about 3-4 tablespoons. Whisk together 1 tablespoon of kinako with 1 teaspoon sugar, and dust over the dates. 

    Date 3: Espresso Mascarpone Dates

    Perhaps stereotypical, but something definitely associated with Seattle is Starbucks. Luckily espresso and dates are a perfect pairing, and mixed with lightly sweetened mascarpone and dusted with cocoa, you have little mini tiramisu lattes. 

    Mix together 4 tablespoons mascarpone with 2 teaspoons honey and 2 teaspoons instant espresso. Stuff dates and dust with cocoa powder. 

    Date 4: Cherry Almond Dates

    The film takes us into Washington state, from nearby island to nearby mountain. Washington is famous for its cherries. For this version you can use a mild cheese like goat cheese or brie, but as I had mascarpone on hand from the previous version, I went with that!

    Stuff dates with mascarpone (3-4 tablespoons needed), then a little cherry jam (2-3 teaspoons). Top with slivered almonds. 

    Date 5: Peanut Butter and Jelly Dates

    Aiden is a very independent kid; he gets himself dressed, walks himself to school, and makes his own lunch – peanut butter and jelly!

    Mix 2 tablespoons creamy peanut butter with 1 tablespoon jelly of your choice (I used grape). Top with chopped roasted, salted peanuts.

    Date 6:  Devils on Horseback

    These are a cheese stuffed date usually wrapped in bacon then baked, but instead of wrapping them I sprinkled them with crumbled bacon to match the style of the other versions. 

    Heat broiler. Stuff dates with 3 or so tablespoons of blue cheese, and broil for 2-3 minutes. Fry two slices of bacon until very crispy and drain on a paper towel. Crumble and sprinkle over the dates. 

    Date 7: Vegan Devils on Horseback

    These are the classic – but with coconut bacon and cashew cheese! Recipes for both at The Full Helping.

    Heat broiler. Fill dates with 3-4 tablespoons cashew cheese. Broil for 2-3 minutes, then sprinkle with 1 tablespoon coconut bacon.  

    And there you have it! One thing I really learned is that the possibilities are endless – try these (they were all great) or create your own and stuff on.

    First published on Nightmare on Film Street.

  • Jackfruit Green Tinga Tacos, a Plant-Based Recipe

    Jackfruit Green Tinga Tacos, a Plant-Based Recipe

    “As long as I’m back for make-your-own-taco night, I’m in.” Spoiler: they are not back for make-your-own-taco night.

    The Ruins (2008), directed by Carter Smith and written by Scott Smith (writer of the novel of the same name) is bleak. Really bleak. There is no point that we believe the Greeks or a “world phone” will come through. It’s a long, slow demise into the killer plants.

    As unlikely as the premise sounds, The Ruins is legitimately terrifying. It’s frightening how quickly the characters slip from the safety of their mundane vacation and into the wild unknown. The film does some excellent work playing with body horror, a creeping, vining sense of dread, and the psychology of imminent doom.

    It’s not the way you want your Mexican vacation to end. Mexican vacation is for pools, beaches, and tacos.

    So of course we are making tacos inspired by The Ruins. These are spicy, green, and entirely plant based. Traditionally, tinga is made with shredded chicken, beef or pork. Jackfruit is an excellent stand in for any type of shredded meat, and as it doesn’t have a strong flavor, it can absorb the flavor of whatever sauce you simmer it in. We often have it BBQ style in sandwiches or tacos.

    For The Ruins however, I made a smokey green sauce. It’s very simple and made from few ingredients, but they balance each other out well. It’s tangy from tomatillos, spicy from jalapeños, herby from oregano. Garnish with anything lucious and green – avocado, green cabbage, lime. Cherry tomato flowers, optional.

    Jackfruit Green Tinga Tacos

    • 1 pound tomatillos, quartered
    • 1 onion, sliced into 1 inch chunks
    • 2 jalapeños, halved long ways
    • 6 cloves garlic, peeled
    • olive oil
    • 2 20 ounce cans jackfruit, drained and trimmed
    • 2 tablespoons sugar
    • 1 teaspoon oregano
    • salt to taste
    • 2 cups vegetable broth
    • Corn tortillas for serving. Avocado, shredded cabbage, lime to garnish. Quartered and seeded cherry tomatoes if you dare!

    Toss the tomatillos, onion, jalapeños, and garlic with olive oil and a sprinkle of salt, and and roast at 400 for 40-45 minutes, stirring and scraping every 10 minutes or so, until mushy and charred. Transfer to a food processor and grind until smooth. The tomatillos are quite tangy, so add enough sugar to mellow and balance, about 2 tablespoons. Salt to taste.

    Meanwhile, heat a tablespoon of olive oil in a pan or wok, and sauté jackfruit until it is starting to brown. Add tomatillo mixture, oregano, and 2 cups vegetable broth. Mix well. Cook until stewy, stirring often, and gently mashing the jackfruit until stringy.

    Serve with warm tortillas, lovely garnishes, Mexican-style red rice, and refried beans!

    First published on Nightmare on Film Street.


  • Winchester Fish and Fried Pickles

    Winchester Fish and Fried Pickles

    All Shaun’s girlfriend Liz wants is dinner at a nice restaurant, the place that does all the fish. The Winchester doesn’t even have proper food. It has plenty of nibbles though: Mini Cheddars. Twigglets. And my personal favorite, Hog Lumps. It’s the perfect place for a nice cold pint whilst waiting for the zombie apocalypse to blow over.

    Shaun of the Dead (2004) is a delightful horror comedy directed by Edgar Wright and cowritten by Wright and Simon Pegg who also stars as Shaun. He’s not a bad guy, but he’s directionless and ambitionless, more or less content to work his middling job by day and spend every evening in the same pub. The film is a hilarious if depressing commentary about how we drone through our daily lives, so much so that when the zombie apocalypse begins it’s almost indiscernible. Once they start attacking though, Shaun takes charge. Along with his best friend Ed, he manages to scoop up his very sweet mother who calls him “Pickle,” Liz, who has freshly broken up with him, and her flatmates, and lead them to the Winchester to hunker down.

    By the end, Shaun has grown as a person and manages to make enough changes to win Liz back. And while he may never be the type to take her to a fancy restaurant that does fish, he can at least take her to a pub that does fish and chips…maybe even the Winchester! It did get completely trashed by zombies so maybe when they renovate they’ll put in a kitchen.

    I thought it would be fun to, instead of chips, make fried pickles to incorporate Shaun’s mother’s nickname for him. While fried pickles originated in the American south, they have been popping up on pub menus (or so says Google) and are the perfect accompaniment to a nice cold pint.

    Originally I was thinking to incorporate Hog Lumps somehow. I mean, with a name like that how could I not at least consider it? Turns out there are a lot of recipes online that use pork rinds as breading for low carb versions of fried fish and fried pickles…but after thinking about it for a minute, anything called “Keto” or “Whole 30” just didn’t feel very English pub-like. So I went with classic beer batter for both the fish and the pickles. For a dipping sauce, malt vinegar mayonnaise.

    Winchester Fish and Fried Pickles with Malt Vinegar Mayo

    For the malt vinegar mayo

    • 1/2 cup mayonnaise
    • 1 tablespoon malt vinegar
    • salt & pepper

    Whisk together mayonnaise and vinegar. Season with salt and pepper to taste.

    For the fish and fried pickles

    • 16 ounce jar dill pickle chips
    • 1 pound firm white fish fillets such as cod
    • 18 ounces beer (one and a half bottles – drink the rest!), I used Guiness
    • 2 eggs
    • 2 1/4 cups flour
    • 1 1/2 tablespoons baking soda
    • salt & pepper
    • vegetable oil for frying

    Heat a half inch oil in a frying pan on medium high (you may need to lower heat).

    Drain and dry the pickles and dry with a paper towel. Dry fish fillets thoroughly with paper towels and salt and pepper liberally on both sides.

    Whisk together beer and eggs. Separately, whisk together flour and baking soda and stir into the beer mixture. Season with a pinch of salt and some fresh cracked pepper, but not too much, being mindful that the pickles are already salty and the fish is also seasoned separately.

    Test a little of the batter in the oil to see if it is ready. Dip the pickles in the batter, letting excess drip off, and fry in small batches until golden, about 3-4 minutes, flipping half way. Remove to a paper towel.

    Dip fish in remaining batter and fry in batches until golden, 3/4 minutes each side.

    Serve hot with dipping sauce, extra malt vinegar, and lemon.

    First published on Nightmare on Film Street.

  • Ginger Steak Wraps with Ginger Tomato Chutney

    Ginger Steak Wraps with Ginger Tomato Chutney

    Ginger Snaps, the 2000 Canadian horror movie written and directed by John Fawcett, is all about transformation. It stars Katharine Isabelle and Emily Perkins as sisters Ginger and Brigitte, who are delightfully morbid (the opening sequence of their death-inspired school project photoshoot is fantastic), and grow up with only each other for friends and a death pact to seal their friendship and sisterhood.

    However, when Ginger is attacked by a mysterious creature, everything begins to change. There are so many themes that are well served by this werewolf narrative; adolescence and budding sexuality, sisterhood, loneliness, mortality, and how people change and relationships rarely stay the same.

    Steak is probably pretty obvious for a werewolf inspired recipe (I also cooked up Universal Classic Monster-inspired Wolf Man Steaks with Silver Bullet Lemon Butter). Well, to be fair, gingersnap cookies are probably the most obvious, but steaks are a close second. However, these were an excellent excuse to use lots and lots of ginger, which I love, for a nice spin on a classic.

    Ginger Steaks

    • 2 fillets (or cut of your choice – I did filet mignon which was appropriately popular in the 90s/early 2000s just like this film)
    • coarse salt
    • fresh ground pepper
    • 2 tablespoons coconut oil
    • 2 tablespoons butter
    • 2 inches ginger, peeled and finely chopped (reserve some matchsticks for garnish)
    • spritz of lime juice

    For a detailed steak-cooking technique, I recommend this method from The Kitchn, but I’ll give you a quick run down. Pat steaks dry, and salt and pepper well on all sides. Allow to sit for 20 minutes at room temperature.

    Heat oven to 425°. Heat coconut oil in a cast iron skillet until screaming hot, don’t be afraid. I opened the windows and warned the kids that I’d probably set the smoke alarm off, which I did. Sear steaks for 5 minutes on each side then move to the oven for 5 minutes for medium well. Remove to a plate and allow to rest.

    Return the skillet to the stove and on medium heat, add butter, ginger, and lime juice. Cook, stirring, until slightly thickened and pour over steaks. Garnish with ginger matchsticks. Serve as is, or, once rested, slice steaks in strips against the grain.

    But we’re not done yet! I transformed this (eh? Ok I’m sorry that was really cheesy) into wraps with baby spinach and a ginger tomato chutney for even more gingery flavor. This also helps stretch an expensive cut of meat; two steaks fed 5 of us with leftovers (with soy and ginger marinated tempeh strips for a vegetarian version).

    Ginger Tomato Chutney

    • 2 tablespoons neutral flavored oil
    • 2 shallots, finely diced
    • 2 inches ginger, peeled and grated
    • 1/2 teaspoon garam masala
    • pinch cayenne (or more to your taste!)
    • 1/4 teaspoon turmeric
    • 1 can diced tomatoes
    • 3/4 teaspoon salt
    • 1 tablespoon brown sugar
    • spritz lime juice

    In a saucepan, heat oil until shimmering. Saute shallots until they begin to turn golden, then stir in ginger, garam masala, cayenne and turmeric and cook until fragrant. Add tomatoes, and cook, stirring often, until thick and jammy. Stir in brown sugar and lime juice and cook for just another minute and remove from heat. Taste and adjust seasoning if necessary, may need a pinch more salt.

    To make wraps, arrange a layer of baby spinach on flatbreads, then strips of gingery steak, top with a dollop of ginger tomato chutney, wrap, slice and serve.

    First published on Nightmare on Film Street.

  • Pomegranate and Orange Sangria

    Pomegranate and Orange Sangria

    I watched Gaspar Noe’s 2018 psychological horror Climax alone in the dark, and while I loved it, declared that I never need to see it again. The raw intensity was just too much, and (small spoiler), anything involving harm to children I find extremely hard to watch. However, it stuck with me, and the following week I couldn’t stop thinking about it, and so ended up showing it to my husband so I could discuss all the feelings I had bubbling up, and maybe also lighten the torment.

    The film is light on plot but heavy on style and the complexities of relationships and trust. It takes place in the mid 90s and focuses on a newly formed troupe of French dancers from diverse backgrounds about to embark on a tour to America. Their bon voyage party turns frightening as they are unwittingly drugged with LSD-laced sangria, and their confusion and mistrust create horrific consequences. And we feel every bit of it, winding through a terrifying wonderland of rooms in an empty school, bright lights and writhing bodies.

    There is an extended dance sequence at the beginning which is nothing short of exuberant, and is heartbreaking to reflect upon considering the events that happen afterwards. The actors are for the most part dancers with little film experience, so their performances have a natural feel that is sometimes lost in seasoned actors. While the film is minimally scripted, the dance is well planned and there is a good bit of foreshadowing in it, I noticed. I mean, while the movie is difficult to watch, the dance is delightful and I’ve revisited countless times; I watch it whenever I’m having a bad day.

    So of course it goes without saying, the recipe for this film was definitely going to be a sangria. But like the dancers, sangria comes in countless versions and flavors and feels, from delicate and sparkling to dark and deep. So I took inspiration from Selva, the troupe’s choreographer. While it is definitely an ensemble film, she emerges quickly as the protagonist, in her yellow dress (everyone else is dressed in blacks and reds), and it’s her tumultuous journey we are mostly along for over the course of the night.

    The actress who plays her, Sofia Boutella, is one of the few actors with prior acting experience, and she is particularly mesmerizing in this role. She comes from an Algerian background, so that’s what I chose as this sangria’s flavor profile. I use pomegranate juice whenever I get the chance, but there’s also apricot and orange and some delicate cinnamon and cardamom.

    The whole thing is lightened up with a sparkling orange drink. I wanted to find Orangina, the French-Algerian classic, which we sold at the upscale deli where I had my first job. It’s harder to find nowadays, at least where I live – you can order it on Amazon but apparently in March they started to distribute it more widely here North America so maybe it will be popping up soon. But this isn’t fussy, sangria is really more of an art than a science, so you can use any brand (I used San Pellegrino blood orange flavor).

    Sparkling Orange and Pomegranate Sangria

    • 8 ounces pomegranate juice
    • 1 cinnamon stick
    • 2 cardamom pods
    • 3 tablespoons sugar
    • 1 bottle mid-bodied inexpensive red wine
    • 1/2 cup apricot brandy
    • 1 orange, sliced
    • 1/2 a pomegranate’s seeds
    • Sparkling orange juice to top

    Ideally start this the day before you plan to serve so the flavors have a chance to marry.

    In a small sauce pan, bring pomegranate juice, cinnamon stick, cardamom pods, and sugar to a simmer. Simmer until pomegranate juice is reduced by about half. Remove from heat and cool completely.

    Strain into a pitcher, and mix with red wine, apricot brandy, orange slices and pomegranate seeds. Chill thoroughly, ideally overnight. Serve over ice, topped with sparkling orange juice and garnished with more orange slices and pomegranate seeds.

    First published on Nightmare on Film Street.

  • Sour Cherry Oatmeal Porridge, a Gothic Victorian Breakfast

    Sour Cherry Oatmeal Porridge, a Gothic Victorian Breakfast

    irector Guillermo del Toro describes his 2015 film Crimson Peak as a “ghost story and gothic romance.” American aspiring writer Edith (Mia Wasikowska) joins her new husband Thomas Sharpe (Tom Hiddleston) and his sister Lucille (Jessica Chastain) at their family’s deteriorating gothic mansion, isolated in the English countryside. Like many of his movies, it is a dark fairytale, rich with gorgeous imagery and punctuated by surprising violence.

    While one can see that the Sharpe home was once glorious, with its grand front hall, countless rooms, and wealth of furniture, tapestries, and heirlooms, the family (dwindled to just Thomas and Lucille) is now penniless. A huge hole in the roof lets in the cold along with falling leaves and snow, the walls are coated with fluttering black moths, and the house itself is sinking into thick red clay.

    Unlike most upperclass English families of the time, the Sharpes have no service staff, and prepare their meals themselves. From what we see, the fare is very simple, including Lucille’s humble breakfast, some watery porridge, and cup after cup of firethorn berry tea. Firethorn berries, otherwise know as pyracantha berries, are a bright brick red color, very bitter, but not toxic and are sometimes made into jelly. Edith complains of their bitterness and Thomas tells her “I’m afraid nothing gentle ever grows in this land, Edith. You need a measure of bitterness – not to be eaten. To survive.”

    True to the simple nature of the food in the Sharpe home is this recipe for oatmeal porridge, and you simply cannot talk about Victorian English food without talking about Mrs Beeton’s Book of Household Management. First published in 1861, it is the quintessential book on housekeeping and cookery, and with its detailed recipes and illustrations was the most oft-consulted cookbook of the time.

    Of course there is instruction on oatmeal, and Mrs Beeton gives you three options, listed from worst to best. First option is to sprinkle oatmeal into boiling water with your left hand and stir continuously with your right for 30 minutes. Exhausting. Second options is to soak it overnight – cooks quicker, but you have to plan ahead. Third option, declared the best, is to use a “water-jacketed saucepan,” or double boiler, which will cook the oatmeal with infrequent stirring. I basically used the third option, only didn’t need the double boiler because unlike in Victorian England, we now have non-stick cookware.

    To dress it up, I added all of her suggestions – nutmeg, ginger, butter, cream – as well as a couple toppings: toasted almonds, and some sour cherries. The cherries I soaked until plump in port wine. This is optional, but gives them a lovely flavor, and “a sip of port” is mentioned in the film as what Edith’s father wants for his breakfast.

    Sour Cherry Oatmeal Porridge

    • 1 cup steel cut oats
    • generous pinch salt
    • 1/4 teaspoon nutmeg
    • 1/4 teaspoon ground ginger
    • 1/2 tablespoon butter
    • 2 tablespoons cream
    • sugar to taste

    To top:

    • 1/2 cup almond slivers, toasted in a dry pan
    • 3 ounces dried sour cherries, soaked in port wine or water at least an hour and up to overnight, then drained

    In a saucepan, add oats, salt, and 3 cups water. Heat to a boil and reduce to medium low to simmer for approximately 30 minutes, stirring frequently and add more water if necessary. Remove from head and stir in nutmeg, ginger, butter, cream and sugar. Top with sour cherries and almond slivers.

    First published on Nightmare on Film Street.

  • Bible Cake with Goat Cheese Eyes

    Bible Cake with Goat Cheese Eyes

    Drag Me to Hell (2009), co-written and directed by Sam Raimi, has a lot to say about shame. Though it’s a wacky, quick-paced supernatural film with just the right amount of camp, the subject matter is particularly heavy: you can try to outrun your shame, but sooner or later it’s going to catch up with you.

    Christine (Alison Lohman) is a loan officer, trying to shed both her southern accent and her sweet nature, in order to get a promotion. She denies an elderly Romani woman a loan, who curses her to be tormented for three days before being dragged to hell. But it’s not the denial of the loan that triggers the curse, it’s Christine calling security and embarrassing the proud woman who has knelt begging at her feet. “You shame me!” She exclaims.

    And over the course of the next three days, every insecurity Christine has been running from rears its ugly head. She struggles at her job, as she’s just not able to be as ruthless as her coworker, making those “tough decisions.” She fails to impress the family of her boyfriend Clay (Justin Long), who think she is too low class and not good enough for him.

    And there’s a lot of shame around food. There’s a reading of this movie that it’s about bulimia, and there is a lot to support that. Christine stares longingly into a bakery but denies herself, later to turn to ice cream in her distress. There are a couple of references for her growing up a “fat girl” whereas she is not anymore. So many of the gruesome events of the three days involve various disgusting things going into her mouth.

    And then there’s the cake. When Christine goes to meet Clay’s family for the first time, she’s eager to make a good impression and brings a humble dish to dinner. “It’s a harvest cake,” she explains, to Clay’s bemused upperclass parents, something she would make on the farm where she grew up. When they serve it, she envisions an eyeball staring at her, and she chokes when she tries to eat it.

    This cake is such a perfect summation of Christine’s insecurities, around food, around class, around judgement, around shame. I went looking for a cake to make in a small town cookbook I inherited from my grandmother, Our First Hundred Years of Cooking (1883-1983) from the Methodist Church of Mount Holly, North Carolina. It did not disappoint. Adapted from a recipe of Mrs. Hettie Clinton Nixon’s, this is a recipe for Bible Cake, made with ingredients from the good book, with all the fruits and nuts of Christine’s harvest cake and the added benefit of scripture (useful in seances!). A goat features in the film’s seance as well, so to decorate I made little goat cheese eyeballs, watching you from every which way.

    Bible Cake with Goat Cheese Eyes

    For the cake

    • 1/2 cup butter, Judges 5:25
    • 1 cup sugar, Jeremiah 6:20
    • 3 eggs, Isaiah 10:14
    • 1 3/4 cups flour, I Kings 4:22
    • 1/2 teaspoon salt, Leviticus 2:13
    • 1 teaspoon baking powder, I Corinthians, 5:6
    • spices (I used 1 teaspoon cinnamon, 1/4 teaspoon nutmeg, and the seeds of 3 cardamom pods), I Kings 10:2
    • 1/2 cup water, Genesis 24:11
    • 1/2 tablespoon honey, Exodus 16:31
    • 1 cup each chopped raisins and dried figs, I Samuel 25:18
    • 1/2 cup chopped walnuts, Genesis 43:11
    • powdered sugar to garnish

    Heat oven to 375, and grease a 9 inch round cake pan.

    Cream together butter and sugar. Add in the 3 eggs. Separately, whisk together flour, salt, baking powder, and spices.

    Mix together water and honey, add it to the wet mixture and mix well. Stir the dry mixture into the web mixture until just combined. Fold in raisins, figs, and nuts, and transfer to the cake pan.

    Bake for approximately 45 minutes until cooked through and golden. Turn out onto a cake plate. Allow to cool and sprinkle with powdered sugar.

    For the goat cheese eyes

    • 2 ounces goat cheese, room temperature.
    • 1 cup+ powdered sugar
    • pinch of salt
    • dried fruit for decorating (I used cranberries, blueberries, and raisins)

    Whip together goat cheese, powdered sugar and salt. Cool in the fridge for an hour or so, stirring occasionally, until set up and moldable. Add powdered sugar if necessary to get a firm texture. Powder your hands with powdered sugar (and again periodically) and form teaspoon-sized balls, rolling gently, and press a dried fruit into each one. Chill until ready to use, then adorn the cake.

    First published on Nightmare on Film Street.

  • Get Hooked on Southport Fisherman’s Stew

    Get Hooked on Southport Fisherman’s Stew

    I like typically well regarded films. I gravitate toward arthouse films, heavy with plot and symbolism, featuring nuanced, often heartbreaking performances. I appreciate artistic vision, thoughtful scores, clever screenwriting. High scoring films on Rotten Tomatoes! I like good movies.

    I also LOVE late 90s/early 2000s teen horror! It’s not that these movies aren’t good or lack the aforementioned qualities. I’ll argue they’re great, the iconic Scream especially, just that they’re not exactly regarded as high art or as “transcending genre” as some (not me) like to say. If you believe in guilty pleasures (yes me. Somehow the concept just makes it feel more fun), you can safely call these guilty pleasures.

    The Faculty, Urban Legend, Disturbing Behavior – at the risk of dating myself, I was the perfect age for these movies when they came out and saw a lot of them in the theater, munching nervously on popcorn and gasping at jump scares with my school friends. I’ll admit that a lot of my affinity is rooted in nostalgia. But with entertaining storylines, beautiful actors in glorious 90s fashion, and slick references to horror classics, these movies are genuinely, unironically valuable, not to mention very fun.

    I Know What You Did Last Summer, the 1997 slasher written by Kevin Williamson and directed by Jim Gillespie, is quintessential teen horror. It features a collection of actors who seem like they were in every late 90s movie (Jennifer Love Hewitt, Sarah Michelle Gellar, Ryan Phillipe, Freddie Prinze Jr.), and a distinctive villain characterized by his fisherman’s jacket and hook.

    It was filmed largely in the quaint beach town of Southport, North Carolina, and as I spent my summers as a kid on the Carolina coast, this was another draw for me. The small town is atmospheric, and is instrumental in demonstrating how everyone’s lives fell apart after the inciting incident. It’s tragic when Helen escapes to New York to be an actress and then has to return somewhat humiliated when “it didn’t work out.” It’s tragic when Ray becomes a fisherman and it’s implied that he’ll never leave and that’s all he’ll ever be. Southport, which seemed charming at the beginning of the film, when the friends were happy and carefree, becomes a symbol of their guilt and failure.

    I’m definitely on a regional seafood kick this summer (see last month’s Jaws-inspired Amity Island Shrimp Boats), so for a recipe, I immediately thought of Fisherman’s Stew. The North Carolina version of this dish is one of those that is traditionally made in a huge pot for a crowd, a la Frogmore Stew or other seafood boils, though this particular recipe is family-sized. Bacon is crisped up to later be crumbled on top, then a tomatoey mixture is cooked to season the broth. Then, potatoes, onions and garlic, and a firm fish (like red drum, sheepshead, cod, or even snapper like Julie’s mom makes for her when she returns home) are layered, brothed up and simmered – no stirring! Lastly, a layer of eggs are cooked on top.

    Serve topped with hot sauce and crusty bread or cornbread for sopping. What are you waiting for?

    Southport Fisherman’s Stew

    • ½ pound bacon cut into 2-inch pieces (my kids don’t eat pork so I used turkey bacon. It’s not as oily, so if using, add some cooking oil to help it fry)
    • 6 ounce can tomato paste
    • large pinch or two chili flakes
    • 2 bay leaves
    • 2 pounds red potatoes, peeled and sliced (you can put them in a large bowl of cold water while you prep so they don’t turn brown)
    • 1 large onion, quartered and sliced
    • 4 cloves garlic, sliced
    • 2 pounds firm fish (I used cod), cut into 2-inch chunks
    • 6 eggs
    • Salt to taste

    eat a pot and cook bacon, stirring, until crisp. Remove and reserve.

    Stir tomato paste into the hot oil, along with chili flakes. Stir for just a minute and remove from heat.

    Add bay leaves and layer the other ingredients twice, sprinkling each layer with salt. Add enough water to just cover. Bring to a boil and reduce to a simmer and cook, covered, until fish is cooked through and potatoes are tender but not falling apart, about 15 minutes. Check the broth for seasoning, add more salt if desired.

    Crack eggs in a single layer on top and poach.

    Serve topped with sliced/crumbled bacon, hot sauce, and crusty bread or cornbread.

    First published on Nightmare on Film Street.

  • Amity Island Shrimp Boats

    Amity Island Shrimp Boats

    This year marks the 45th anniversary of Jaws, the sharky summer blockbuster that terrified would-be beachgoers in theaters in 1975. Based on the novel by Peter Benchley and directed by Stephen Spielberg (who was only 27 at the time!), the film with its iconic soundtrack and clever editing became an instant classic.

    There’s been some biting comparisons drawn between the plot of Jaws and this particular Pandemic Summer. Much like police chief Martin Brody does of mayor Larry Vaughn, we question the wisdom of opening the beach. However, if you’re avoiding the beach from either fear of sickness or shark attack, you can still eat like you’re there! Here’s a summery seafood dish, the type you’d be served at a beachfront cafe, ready to be devoured.

    While Jaws takes place in the fictional town of Amity Island, New York, the movie was filmed in Martha’s Vineyard, Massachusetts. The summer colony provided just the atmosphere they were looking for – a charming vacation town whose tourist industry could be believably destroyed by a shark.

    Martha’s Vineyard is also known for its food, including fresh seafood dishes and even a signature salad. Shrimp and lobster rolls are popular in New England so were the inspiration for this recipe. While those are served on hot dog style buns, this is tweaked for the movie and served, of course, in a bread boat. The bread boats are filled with a lovely shrimp salad. It’s a classic New England style shrimp salad but the seasoning combination of sherry, lemon and tarragon make it extra elegant.

    The recipe serves 4, but can easily be doubled. After all, if you’re really hungry, you’re going to need a bigger boat.

    Amity Island Shrimp Boats

    • 1 pound shrimp, peeled
    • 1 tablespoon lemon juice
    • 1 tablespoon sherry
    • ½ cup celery, finely diced
    • 2 tablespoons shallot, finely diced
    • Zest of one lemon
    • 1 teaspoon dried tarragon
    • 2 heaping tablespoons mayonnaise
    • Olive oil
    • Two baby baguettes hollowed out (you could also do a French loaf. Save the bread scraps for bread crumbs)
    • Melted butter for brushing
    • Spinach leaves

    Marinate the shrimp in lemon juice and sherry. Let sit in the fridge for at least half an hour. In a large bowl, combine celery, shallot, tarragon, lemon zest and mayonnaise. Set aside. Heat a little olive oil in a frying pan on medium and cook shrimp with marinade, stirring and flipping, until pink, about 2-3 minutes. Cook thoroughly but be careful not to overcook, shrimp easily gets rubbery! Remove to a clean bowl and allow to cool. With a slotted spoon, fold shrimp into to the mayonnaise mixture. Add a teaspoon or two of the leftover cooked marinade liquid for flavor, and to thin the mayonnaise mixture a little so that it lightly coats the shrimp.

    Heat oven to 400°. Brush baguette boats with melted butter and toast in the oven until golden. Allow to cool slightly. Line the inside with spinach leaves and scoop full of the shrimp salad. Slice in halves or thirds to serve.


  • Red Room Cherry Cider & Black Lodge Coffee Pie

    Red Room Cherry Cider & Black Lodge Coffee Pie

    It’s Cops ‘N Killers month on Nightmare on Film Street, and Twin Peaks, 1990’s wacky noir television series created by Mark Frost and David Lynch, has plenty of both. FBI Special Agent Dale Cooper (Kyle MacLachlan) comes to the quaint, quirky town of Twin Peaks to investigate the death of local beloved teenager Laura Palmer, and the unfolding mystery is a wild ride to say the least.

    Agent Cooper is equally quirky as the town, charming, and sharp as a tack. His childlike curiosity is what makes him a great detective – and it’s not limited to crime. He has keen observations on the picturesque Pacific Northwest landscape, the often eccentric citizens, and of course the food that he’s frequently describing with glee. Mention Twin Peaks and anyone familiar can quote “You know, this is – excuse me – a damn fine cup of coffee.”

    It’s true that Twin Peaks makes amazing use of food to showcase both place and character. One of the key settings is the Double R Diner where Norma (Peggy Lipton) serves up humble small town diner fare and of course, her famous cherry pies. And it’s not limited to cherry; peanut butter pie, huckleberry pie, and more appear in the series. Cooper and team return often for sustenance and to unpack what they’ve learned about the case. Lynch has said of diners “There’s a safety in thinking in a diner. You can have your coffee or your milkshake, and you can go off into strange dark areas, and always come back to the safety of the diner.”

    Food permeates the series; there’s breakfasts at the Great Northern Inn, awkward family dinners in several awkward family homes, elaborate donut spreads at the police station. And then, as mentioned, the coffee. Agent Cooper’s effervescent personality is certainly fueled by caffeine. Whether damn fine, black as midnight on a moonlit night, or – ahem – even a little fishy, coffee is everywhere.

    You can find many recipes for Norma’s cherry pie (that look absolutely delicious) and I’m sure most of you are capable of making a damn fine cup of coffee. So for this we’re doing something a little different and slipping into the red room of Agent Cooper’s dreams. Or is it the Black Lodge? There, the dead are alive, time and space are irrelevant, and nothing’s as it seems. Things are sometimes – backwards? Like…cherry cider and coffee pie?

    Yes, we’re flipping two of the most standout Twin Peaks foods, and the result is quaint, quirky and delicious.

    Red Room Cherry Cider

    I had a brief moment of snobbery at the thought of using Jello of which I am ashamed. After all Agent Cooper is from the big city and is never is condescending. Plus, the bright red color it results in is perfectly reminiscent of the heavy velvet red room curtains.

    • 6 cups apple cider
    • 1 3 ounce package cherry Jello
    • 2 cardamom pods, cracked
    • 2 slices ginger
    • 1 cinnamon stick

    Heat all ingredients in a pot, and gently simmer for at least 10 minutes. Serve hot.

    Black Lodge Coffee Pie

    Adapted from A Taste of Home. Note: these women’s magazines are great for beautifully simple recipes particularly when you’re going for a small town feel. We’re swapping out the topping for cocoa chevrons for the iconic red room floor, whipped cream on the side.

    For the crust

    • 6 ounces chocolate wafers
    • 4 tablespoons melted butter
    • 2 tablespoons sugar
    • Pinch salt.

    Heat oven to 350°. Pulse all ingredients together in a food processor. Press evenly in a 9 inch pie dish and bake for 8-10 minutes. Cool before fill ng.

    For the filling

    • ⅔ cup sugar
    • ½ cup flour
    • ½ teaspoon salt
    • 2 cups milk
    • 3 tablespoons instant coffee granules, crushed
    • 3 egg yolks, lightly beaten
    • 2 tablespoons butter
    • 2 teaspoons vanilla extract
    • cocoa powder to garnish, slightly sweetened whipped cream on the side

    In the top of a double boiler (or in a heat safe bowl over a boiling pot), mix sugar, flour, and salt. Add milk gradually and stir until smooth. Cook and stir until thickened, 8-10 minutes. Stir in coffee granules.

    Temper the egg yolks by stirring a small amount of the hot liquid into them, then add all to the pan. Cook and stir for 2-3 minutes. Remove from heat and stir in butter and vanilla extract. Cool thoroughly, pour into crust and chill.

    For the garnish: you can sprinkle the cocoa evenly or get crafty. Make chevron strips out of paper and arrange across the pie. Sprinkle cocoa powder between the strips, then peel them off. Serve with whipped cream on the side.

    First published on Nightmare on Film Street.