Mud Season Meals
Number Three
"Bassa Peta"
One
of the sensations of being sure of yourself when you are young is that you are
cracker right of whatever you are, then, doing. Forty years later you are not so sure of your ‘back then’
but are very sure that, of these days, you are cracker right of whatever you
are, now, doing. And then there is
the Forty Year Spread.
The
Forty Year Spread is a cracker right doing back then that has persisted and is
a too, now and still, ‘a cracker right’, in and of, doing, NOW. “Bassa Peta”, for myself, is a ‘one of
those’.
“Bassa
Peta” is food. It is a meal that I
made and ate for myself over forty years ago. Periodically, over past four decades, the “Bassa Peta” was
and is made and served again to friends and family. It is a quick, stupid easy, ‘one pot’, controlled mess,
hardy and ‘always gets eaten’ (all of it) “MEAL”. It is a classic recipe that one may find anywhere. I have my own recipe copy, written in
my hand, forty years ago.
Continuing
with that last notice and sidestepping for a few paragraphs the “Bassa Peta” as
a ‘Mud Season Meal’ ‘Number Three’... I... and these ‘those they’... the hand
written personal recipe book and its their-these food to self messages: Do you have one? Have you written this “YOURS”? “You wrote that?” they say to me. I did. Do. Still
have. Still use.
THAT. All it is... is a junky plastic
notebook that I write down any ole
“I made” recipe that I, by happenstance, do, make, think of, remember
or... as a Viking vessel sailed the sea... did that: I use that: My
own recipe book. I wrote it
“down”, page after page. You
should too; it is a ‘your life’; your own ‘food life’.
The
rare book world; rare antiquarian books and I as a ‘dealer’ of them, know
(understand) full well the appreciation and value of these old ‘hand written’
‘cook books’... found by flashlight on the attic floor... dutifully recording a
marginally literate record of a ‘her recipes’... and little more.
These
old books are usually the all of the author ever ‘written down’. Yes and ‘there we go’; they are
precious. And some... may be found
to be ‘quite well done’ ‘a good read’ and, of course, again and too, be...
precious. So it is easy to
understand a forty year manuscript notebook of recipes begun in 1814 and ‘died
out’ (last entry) 1851. The last
entry is for “TOAST” while the first recipe is for... raspberry jam. A complete life circle? Seems so to me.
Once
one is clued to these “THESE” their precious magic is... IN YOUR OWN HAND;
their book, or... your book, YOUR HAND writing. It very well could be the only ‘old manuscript’ you ever
‘make’ about ‘anything’. You can
do this. Most “do not”.
My
recipe book may be opened to “Bassa Peta”; a shortened and misspelled
title? NO IT IS INTENTIONALLY
“that way written”. That is my
recipe book’s style. YOUR book
will have YOUR style. Anyway;
opened to Bassa Peta: I don’t need
to open the book for the “TO MAKE THAT” recipe. And, as I mentioned, you can look “IT” up (similar recipes)
“ON LINE” too. The “Bassa Peta” recipe
title is correctly spelled Kielbasa (sausage) on Pita (bread) made with a quart
of sauerkraut ‘very important’ too.
The sauerkraut is the point of the recipe while the ‘Bassa’ and ‘Peta’
are cosmetic. They ‘vary in
quality’ as ‘cosmetic’. The kraut
varies in quality as ‘the point’ (“good kraut”). Okay this means that the Bassa may be any ole box store
grocery prepared meat cooler dive bassa OR, as in this case, it may be Maine
Fashion Forward Lisbon Maine made Sausage Kitchen’s premium Kielbasa. GO SHOP AT THEIR Lisbon STORE (factory)
for this ‘buy local’ choice. The
same for the Kraut; shop for box store brands in the pickle jar cooler
‘selections’ or... shop for Maine’s “BEST” Morse’s Sauerkraut from their
Washington, Maine GO SHOP AT THEIR (‘in the middle of No Where’) Waldoboro Road
STORE (factory) ‘buy local’ premium choice.
Make
the ‘petas’ yourself. Yes... you
do need to get that third world global culture bread ‘under your baker’s
apron’.
The
pita process, once your oven and (cast iron) griddle plate are “HOT” (very,
very hot)... and your rolling pin is rolling... an... ‘about two minutes’
each... ten pitas in thirty minutes... event. It is an event.
Rolling, griddling, flipping and stacking with a whole lot of oven door
opening and closing... you are done in thirty minutes and rewarded with a stack
of ten towel wrapped warm “PITAS” “I MADE”. Once one engages ‘how simple this is’, one has both awe and
pride at “making my own pitas’.
Leave them wrapped in the towel and now “MAKE” their filling.
That
takes, like... maybe... twenty minutes... using the stove top and a larger and
deeper (cast iron) skillet. A
touch of olive oil and then add every component in order starting with a light
stir fry of the onions and peppers.
Add the (thinner than one quarter inch sliced) bassa. Stir (lightly ‘hot through’) fry that
in a bit. Add the drained quart of
kraut... stir in and careful not too hot now. Add ½ cup of sour cream. Or even lighter handed on that (1/3 cup). Two tbs prepared mustard (of any ‘your
choice’). Heat whole mixture
lightly through. Serve from pan by
spooning onto your pita and ‘fold over’.
You are done. Eat it; each
serving themselves. Leftover? Fine if any is leftover. “We’ll make this again (real) soon” is
the usual end-of-meal-status.
Remember: It is mud season. It is still ‘too cold’, too wet, too
much snow, ‘no melting’ requiring boots, gloves, hats, (jackets in) ‘layers’
and... Mud Season farm yards and its ‘yard work’... make a hungry man. That’s what Bassa Peta is for: It is a Mud Season Meal.
