Slumgullion, Salisbury Steak and Lapskaus: Comfort Food is Very Koselig

Plus, the Origin of Taylor Swift's Favorite Cocktail.

Salisbury Steak: A TV dinner staple for decades. (Internet image)

Slumgullion

It was New Year’s Day and I had stayed in bed until past midday. This was due to the previous night being my first foray into the Going-Out-On-New-Year’s-Eve World. There had been two great parties, which ended with me drinking one too many Martinis in an Ina Garten-sized glass, while picking pork bits out of the roasting pan on the host’s stove.

Needless to say, it was a late night. So the next day, when Robert walked into the bedroom, cookbook outstretched, and said, “How about we make Slumgullion?,” the fact that I shot out of bed like he was an outdoor cat offering me a live mouse was no small feat.

“Slumgullion?,” I shouted. “Slumgullion?!” What was he talking about? Had I heard right?

I grabbed the cookbook and there it was. My mother’s recipe for Slumgullian—no, my grandmother, Laura Kitchen’s recipe! Except this recipe was from the mother and grandmother of Glenn Andrews, the author of the cookbook, Food From the Heartland: The Cooking of America’s Midwest. Robert has owned the 1991 cookbook for decades.

[Note from Robert: If you’re from the Midwest, or like Midwestern food, I highly recommend this book. It is among the most thoroughly explored cookbooks in my collection and the source of my go-to recipes for Cincinnati Chili, German Pancake, Swedish Meatballs and Chicken and Dumplings. It is out of print, but can be bought online.]

I had always thought Slumgullion was an old family recipe, unknown to others. Flabbergasted, I did what anyone else would do: I Googled “Slumgullion” and there it was.

Slumgullion [ sluhm-guhl-yuhn ]

From Merriam-Webster

noun

: a meat stew

But that wasn’t all. Apparently, Slum means slime. (My mom used to say “Let’s make Slum.”)

“The etymology of the word is believed to derive from “slum,” an old word for “slime” and gullion, an English dialectical term for “mud” or “cesspool”.

My mind was spinning.  Wikipedia called it “American Goulash.” As a half-Hungarian-American, I resented that. 

Then came the worst bit:

See also:

*Hamburger Helper

Hamburger Helper!? Good God.

When we were kids, my siblings and I pleaded with mom to make Hamburger Helper. She said, disdainfully, “We don’t eat that,” as if we had just asked her to do something truly awful.

I recently asked my sister if she knew the family recipe for Slumgullion, but it was one of those things that lived in my mom’s head. And, with mom gone, the recipe was gone. I remembered it as: hamburger, onion, green pepper, canned tomatoes, and elbow noodles. Was that it? It seemed too simple.

But now Robert had found a recipe written in a cookbook. So there we were on New Year’s Day eating Slumgullion and loving it. 

Andrews’ recipe was very similar to mom’s, except mom didn’t use parmesan cheese. It was a perfect meal, total comfort food. It reminded me of my youth, which has become so much more important to me since mom died at the end of 2022. With the world in such turmoil these days, I feel even more unmoored. 2023 provided no relief. Grief and responsibility—both personal and professional—weigh heavily on one when you no longer have parents to turn to. Robert and I are the parents now. And like any pair of loving, overwhelmed and totally stressed-out adults, we started looking into comfort food for, well, comfort.

A helping of comforting Slumgullian.

According to an article in the Atlantic from 2015, written by Cari Romm, the phrase, “comfort food” was coined in the 1960s when The Palm Beach Post used it in an article, attaching childhood memories to food eaten for comfort by the emotionally distressed. I’ve decided to take a more positive tack, so I’m not talking about that kind of comfort food. I choose to address comfort food as Liza Minelli did in a 1970 interview. She said, “Comfort food is anything you just yum, yum, yum.” That kind of food. Robert and I have been “battening down the emotional hatches” with dishes like Chicken Tetrazzini and they are definitely, “yum, yum, yum.”

Salisbury Steak and Lapskaus

Ugly Delicious: Mary Kate’s from scratch Salisbury Steak.

During the week between Christmas and New Year’s, that sort of a holiday purgatory period, I made Salisbury Steak for Robert. This was one of the last meals I made for my mom: Salisbury Steak and Scalloped Potatoes. I had remembered my dad talking about how much he loved the dish as a child. Mom adored that meal and she asked me to make it again the following weekend. 

Robert reacted to the meal the same way as mom had. The funny thing is Robert hadn’t really ever had true Salisbury Steak, unless you count the classic Swanson’s TV dinner. (Yes, fellow Gen X’ers, the one where the brownie cooks in the foil pan alongside the rest of the meal.) And my mom hadn’t had a Salisbury Steak in at least forty years. And yet they both immediately asked for it again once they finished their plates.

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After discovering Slumgullion, we paged through Food From the Heartland for other familiar and comforting recipes. We saw a family favorite of mine, Stuffed Cabbage. We made Pork Chops and Apples. And there was a Scandinavian Beef Stew. This reminded Robert of Lapskaus, a traditional Norwegian stew.

During his early days in New York in the 1990s, Robert made many journeys to Bay Ridge, Brooklyn, looking for fellow Norwegians. Bay Ridge was once home to the largest number of Norwegians outside of Norway. He visited 8th Avenue, which was known in the early 20th Century as “Lapskaus Avenue” because of its Norwegian population. The street was supposedly redolent of a thousand Nordic stews simmering on the stove back in the day.

And yet, he had never actually made Lapskaus. Maybe now was the time.

A bowl of Lapskaus.

The Lapskaus recipe in Andrews’ book seemed too simple, too much like basic beef stew. Robert found a recipe online that featured not only beef and potatoes, but root vegetables like rutabaga, turnips and leeks, and a very light gravy (much lighter than stew gravy). While enjoying it, we understood why sailors would eat this on long journeys; it was heartening and warm, but not overwhelming.

Comfort Food and Koselig (Pronounced Koosh-lee)

So, here’s something that Robert may, or may not, want me to share. He’s a very stoic person. Did you ever think about what “stoic” means? The definition of stoic is “a person who can endure pain or hardship without showing their feelings or complaining.”

That’s him. 100%. “Why complain?” he often says. Or, “We’re not going to go if we cannot behave well and have a good time”; “Don’t brag”; “Make the best of the situation.” These are things I hear all the time.

This is not me. I suffer; I cry; I brag; I do not behave. But, during the past nearly five years of marriage I have learned a lot from him. Mostly that I am lucky to know him, but also that Robert embodies Koselig.

As a Mix subscriber, you already know that Robert is the king of winter. I always joke that if the temperature gets above 65 degrees, he starts to get red blotches. Not quite, but he surely isn’t happy. He is most content when it snows and is cold. I am witness to this.

Koselig is a Norwegian word for comfort, but, as the Cleveland Clinic writes, “unlike Hygge, a Danish word, which is more of a protective layer for discomfort, Koselig is the act of celebrating winter, instead of longing for summer; a word that means creating warmth from the inside.” Koselig is more about surrounding yourself with loved ones and enjoying the winter, rather than retreating to a Hygge-induced solitude. Think: getting together; walking outside; eating meals together in front of the fire; celebrating food and relationships while embracing the temperatures and winning over winter. And, according to Robert, “Don’t complain”.

This past Christmas, I spent half the day making Julia Child’s recipe for Caneton a l’Orange in honor of my mom. During one of the many times when various sauces had to simmer on the stove, we all sat drinking Boothbys in the tiny back yard, which we tented into a sort of adult clubhouse we called “The Candle Club.” Then we set up the dining room table in front of the fireplace and had dinner: Robert, his son Asher, my son Richard, Richard’s girlfriend Anastasia and me. After dinner we all went for a long walk together in the cold. It may have been my favorite Christmas. It was all very Koselig.

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Many years ago, during the hardest time of my life, I called my mom twice a day, on the way to work, and on the way home. I told myself this was to check on her and make sure she was okay. We talked for hours. She would ask me how I was, and I would say “I’m redefining rock bottom daily.” We would laugh about how sad that was. I would not have made it through without her.

When I make Slumgullion or Salisbury Steak, I think of mom and me laughing at sadness, or Robert making the best of even the most horrible situation. This winter we have had a full house all the time. We’ve had brothers, friends and kids joining us in our little one bedroom apartment for days on end, sleeping on our fold-out bed. I’m so lucky we all have each other—and Slumgullion.

Preparing the Slumgullion.

Slumgullion

Glenn Andrews, Food From the Heartland, 1991

Andrews points out that Slumgullion is a very flexible dish. If you don’t like green pepper, leave it out; celery and carrot are acceptable substitutes. Same goes for the chesse. Choose your adventure.

• 1 lb. ground beef

• 1 tsp. butter

• 1/4 cup minced onion

• 1/4 cup minced green pepper

• 1 cup tomato sauce

• 1 cup uncooked elbow macaroni

• Salt and pepper to taste

• 2 Tb. Parmesan cheese

Brown the ground beef with the butter in a big frying pan. Add the onion and green pepper and cook for 2 to 3 minutes more, then add the tomato sauce and macaroni. Simmer for approximately 15 minutes, stirring occasionally and adding more water if needed. Season with salt and pepper. Stir in parmesan cheese at the very last moment. Serves 4 to 6 people.

Chicken Tetrazzini.

Swift and Chase: The Case of the French Blonde Cocktail

If you believe Page Six of the New York Post, singer and Kansas City Chiefs fan Taylor Swift now has a favorite cocktail. Swift has reportedly made a drink called the French Blonde her regular order at Rye restaurant in Leawood, Kansas. The drink is made with gin, Lillet, St-Germain elderflower liqueur, lemon bitters and grapefruit juice.

I was curious about the provenance of the cocktail, so I began doing some research. Press mentions of it begin to turn up in earnest in 2014 at restaurants in New York, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Texas and Florida. Since it contains St. Germain, it would have to date from after 2007, when the liqueur was introduced. The drink is not featured on the St. Germain website, but it is featured on the Lillet website, which made me think it was possibly a Lillet corporate creation. That would also explain the drink’s name, which emphasizes the color and country of origin of the single French product in the recipe.

I turned to a few colleagues for answers, including Boston bartender, blogger and author Frederic Yarm, who knows a lot about a lot of cocktails. His digging led him to a 2011 article in Saveur by writer Caraline Biachetto Chase. Based on that post, the French Blonde appears to be Chase’s creation. Saveur was a well-read magazine at the time with decent cocktail coverage. It is likely that bartenders and beverage directors in many different cities would have seen the recipe and adopted it. “The resulting drink is very chic, very French,” wrote Chase, “and a lovely pale yellow hue: a true French blonde.”

The recipe caption was updated on Jan. 26, so Chase or somebody at Saveur must had heard that Taylor is a fan.

French Blonde

Caraline Biachetto Chase, Saveur, 2011

• 2 ounces fresh grapefruit juice

• 2 ounces Lillet Blanc

• 1 ounce gin

• 1/2 ounce St-Germain

• 3 dashes lemon bitters

To a cocktail shaker filled halfway with ice, add the grapefruit juice, Lillet Blanc, gin, elderflower liqueur, and lemon bitters and shake vigorously for 30 seconds. Strain into a chilled cocktail glass.

Odds and Ends…

Court Street Bagels, a staple in the Cobble Hill neighborhood of Brooklyn, closed its doors on Sunday, Jan. 28. For decades, the long lines outside the shop were a regular weekend sight… “The Depths,” a night of tiki cocktails and guest bartenders, will be held at Rockwell Place in Brooklyn on Feb. 19 from 7:30 p.m. on… Bryan Cranston and Aaron Paul, the “Breaking Bad” acting duo behind Dos Hombres mezcal, were at the Applebee’s branch on 50th Street in Manhattan last week to celebrate the integration of their mezcal brand into the family-dining chain’s cocktail program. The mezcal will be used in three cocktails nationwide (one blue, one green and one pink—this is Applebee’s after all), all of them spins on the Margarita. Dos Hombres will be the first mezcal brand Applebee’s has ever carried. So that is drinking progress of a sort… Nominations for Tales of the Cocktail’s Spirited Awards are now open.