by Dana Bate
½ cup grated smoked Gouda cheese
Make the pears: Melt the butter in a small frying pan. When the bubbling subsides, sprinkle sugar over the butter and stir. Add the pears and cook for 2 to 3 minutes per side, until lightly golden but not mushy. Remove the pears from the pan and set aside.
Assemble the sandwich: If you want to be fancy, trim the crusts off the bread. Spread butter on one side of both pieces of bread, making sure you spread all the way to the edges of the bread. Spread the other side with a thin layer of honey mustard. Don’t use too much mustard—that stuff is powerful! With the mustard side facing up, spread half the grated cheese on top of one slice of bread. Layer the caramelized pears on top, then sprinkle on the rest of the cheese. Put the other piece on top, with the buttered side facing up.
Heat a griddle or skillet over medium-high heat. When hot, place the sandwich in the pan and cook for about 1 minute on each side, until the bread is golden brown and the cheese has melted. Serve whole or cut into 4 squares for hors d’oeuvres.
Braised Green Beans with Fire-Roasted Tomatoes
Adapted from Ed Bruske, Aka the Slow Cook
Serves 6 to 8
These beans taste even better if you make them a day ahead. Reheat them gently on the stove before serving.
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 medium yellow onion, thinly sliced
1 pound green beans, trimmed
1 14½-ounce can diced, fire-roasted tomatoes, with their juice
2 thick slices bacon, diced
1 teaspoon fennel seeds, ground in a mortar and pestle
½ teaspoon salt, plus more to taste
Freshly ground black pepper
Heat the olive oil in a heavy pot or Dutch oven with a tight-fitting lid over medium heat. Add the onion and cook, stirring occasionally, until tender, about 5 minutes. Add the beans, fire-roasted tomatoes and juice, bacon, ground fennel, ½ teaspoon salt, and pepper to taste, and bring to a simmer.
Cover, reduce heat to very low, and simmer gently until tender, about 3 hours, stirring and tasting the beans occasionally. Season with additional salt and pepper to taste.
Curried Deviled Eggs
Makes 12 deviled eggs
Feel free to add as much curry to these eggs as you like, depending on how strong you want the flavor to be—anywhere from ½ teaspoon to 1 ½ teaspoons or more. For the best flavor, make sure your curry powder is fresh. You can easily double, or even triple, this recipe.
6 large eggs
¼ cup mayonnaise
1 teaspoon Dijon mustard
½ teaspoon curry powder, or more to taste
½ teaspoon lemon juice
½ teaspoon minced chives, plus more for garnish
Pinch cayenne pepper
Kosher salt and pepper to taste
Paprika for garnish
Place eggs in a medium saucepan and cover with cold water, making sure the eggs are covered by at least an inch of water. Over medium-high heat, bring the water to a boil. Once the water reaches a boil, remove the pan from the heat, cover, and let it sit for exactly 14 minutes.
After 14 minutes, drain the eggs and place them in an ice bath to stop them from cooking. Let the eggs sit in the ice bath for about 10 minutes, then peel the eggs and discard the shells. From end to end, cut each egg in half. Scoop out the yolks and place them in a medium bowl and lay the whites cut side up on a platter.
Mash the yolks with the back of a fork, or, for a finer texture, press through a fine sieve. Add mayonnaise, mustard, curry powder, lemon juice, chives, and cayenne and stir until well combined and smooth. Season with salt and pepper to taste (you will need at least teaspoon of salt).
Scoop filling into a Ziploc bag or a disposable pastry bag and snip off a corner of the bag with scissors. Pipe the filling into the egg whites. Garnish each egg with a sprinkling of paprika and more chives. Serve right away or chill and serve cold.
Devils on Horseback (or, Bacon-Wrapped Dates Stuffed with Honey-Laced Mascarpone)
Makes 12 stuffed dates
2 tablespoons mascarpone cheese
¾ teaspoon honey
¼ teaspoon fresh lemon juice
12 Medjool dates
6 slices applewood smoked bacon
Preheat oven to 400°F. In a small bowl, mix together the mascarpone, honey, and lemon juice. Using a small knife, cut a slit down one side of each date to remove the pit. Stuff each date with ½ teaspoon of the mascarpone mixture, filling the cavity. Close up the date.
Cut each bacon slice in half, so that you end up with 12 slices about 4 to 5 inches long. If the bacon is very, very fatty, trim away some of the excess fat. Wrap each date with a slice of bacon, securing the bacon in place with a toothpick. Place dates on a rimmed baking sheet and bake for 5 to 6 minutes. Turn dates over and continue baking for another 5 to 6 minutes, until the bacon is crisp. Drain on paper towels and let cool for about 5 minutes. Serve.
Turkey Leg Confit
Adapted from Food & Wine
Serves 6
To make a proper confit, you should use duck fat, which you can buy online from D’Artagnan. However, if you’re anything like Hannah Sugarman, you might not have easy access to multiple pounds of duck fat, not to mention available funds. So this recipe uses half olive oil and half vegetable oil, both of which are easier to come by. If you’d like to use duck fat, substitute melted duck fat for the olive oil. You can easily double this recipe.
6 garlic cloves, peeled
2 tablespoons kosher salt
2 heaping teaspoons fresh chopped thyme
Finely grated zest of half a large lemon
½ tablespoon juniper berries
½ teaspoon black peppercorns, plus freshly ground pepper
6 turkey legs (12 ounces each)
3 cups olive oil
3 cups vegetable oil
2 cups low-sodium turkey stock or broth (or substitute low-sodium chicken stock)
2 tablespoons all-purpose flour
¾ teaspoon balsamic vinegar
Pepper
Place 4 of the garlic cloves in a food processor with the salt, thyme, and lemon zest. Pulse until finely chopped. Add the juniper berries, peppercorns, and pepper and pulse just until slightly cracked.
Preheat the oven to 325°F. Arrange the turkey legs in a single layer in a medium, flameproof roasting pan, just large enough to hold the turkey legs snugly. Rub the legs all over with the salt mixture. Let stand for 30 minutes. Smash the remaining 2 garlic cloves lightly with the back of a knife. Pour olive and vegetable oils over the turkey legs and add the smashed garlic cloves to the pan. If the legs aren’t completely covered by oil, add a little more to the pan.
Roast the turkey legs for about 2 hours, turning them every 30 minutes, until the meat is very tender and pulls away from the drumsticks. Transfer the legs to a large pot and carefully strain the fat over them, stopping when you reach the sediment and any caramelized pan juices. Reserve the garlic cloves. Let the turkey legs cool to room temperature, then refrigerate in the pot overnight or for up to 5 days.
While the turkey legs are cooling, return the garlic to the roasting pan and set the pan over one or two burners, depending on the size of your pan. Add a cup of the stock and bring to a simmer over moderately high heat, scraping up the browned bits on the bottom and sides of the pan and mashing the garlic into the juices. Strain the pan juices into a large measuring cup, let cool, then refrigerate for up to 5 days.
On the day you plan to serve the turkey legs, preheat the oven to 350°F and remove the turkey legs and reserved pan juices from the refrigerator. To remove the legs from the pot, gently rewarm the turkey legs over moderate heat, just until the fat melts. Remove the legs from the fat and transfer them to a roasting pan; reserve 1 tablespoon of the fat. Roast the turkey legs for 25 minutes, turning once or twice, or until golden and crisp in spots. Transfer the turkey legs to a platter, cover loosely with aluminum foil, and keep warm.
Pour off any fat from the ro
asting pan and set the pan over one or two burners, depending on the size of your roasting pan. Add the remaining cup of stock and the reserved pan juices and bring to a boil, scraping up any browned bits stuck to the bottom and sides of the pan. Pour the pan juices into a medium saucepan and bring back to a boil.
In a small bowl, blend the flour with the reserved tablespoon of fat. Whisk the flour paste into the pan juices and simmer over moderate heat, stirring, until the gravy thickens and no floury taste remains, about 10 minutes. Stir in the balsamic vinegar and season lightly with pepper. Serve the turkey legs with the garlic gravy.
acknowledgments
This book is dedicated to my mom and dad, who have always encouraged me to follow my dreams and be my best self. Thank you for always believing in me. I couldn’t ask for better parents, and I love you so much.
A million thanks to Alanna Ramirez for being my book’s first champion, and to Scott Miller and everyone at Trident for your hard work and dedication.
I am forever grateful to superstar editor Jill Schwartzman, who is truly one of the best in the business. Thank you for seeing something in my manuscript and for helping me take the story to the next level. Your input was invaluable, and I am lucky to have you in my corner.
To Sam O’Brien, who took over so effortlessly and helped bring this book to publication: thank you for your sharp insights, your enthusiasm, your hard work, and your sense of humor. You made every step of this process fun and exciting, even when we were just doing copyedits. You rock.
Many thanks to everyone at Hyperion, especially Elisabeth Dyssegaard, Ellen Archer, Maha Khalil, Kristin Kiser, Diane Aronson, Karen Minster, Shelly Perron, Jennifer Daddio, Christine Ragasa, Bryan Christian, and Georgia Morrissey. I hit the jackpot when I landed at your publishing house.
Lucy Stille—thank you for your constructive suggestions and infectious enthusiasm. You had me at “adorable and delicious.”
A big hug and a kiss to Sophie McKenzie, for being my first reader and cheering me on throughout the process. You are a talented author in your own right, and I’m lucky to have you for a sister-in-law.
Thanks to Kim Perel, for giving early advice, and to Liz Roller Dilworth, Eve Gutman, and Bethany Lesser for lending their professional expertise to answer my (potentially annoying) fact-checking questions.
Mandi Schweitzer—many thanks for your input in the later stages of production. Your advice was beyond helpful. And to Amber Wheeler, Sally Pressman, Marin Levy, Lauren Alexander, and Sallie James—thanks for supporting me along the way and for being such wonderful friends.
And finally, a big thank-you to Roger, for everything. I couldn’t have done this without you, and I wouldn’t have wanted to. You gave me pep talks when I needed them, listened when I needed to vent, and read this book more times than anyone probably should. Thank you for encouraging me to take a risk and for supporting me every step of the way. You are the best decision I ever made.
reading group guide
Because the pagination of this electronic edition does not match the print edition from which it was created, any references to specific page numbers should be ignored. Instead, to locate a specific passage within the text, please use the search feature of your e-book reader.
Introduction
Dana Bate’s first novel, The Girls’ Guide to Love and Supper Clubs, introduces us to Hannah Sugarman, a savvy, intelligent, and frazzled young woman living in Washington, DC. What’s the trouble? Everyone wants her to be someone she’s not. Her boyfriend and his wealthy, judgmental parents want her to be more polite and accomplished; her parents want her to pursue advanced studies in economics; her boss wants her to commit even more time to his political think tank. What does Hannah want? To cook great food. In an attempt to balance all these things, she starts a secret, underground (and somewhat illegal) supper club in her landlord’s fancy town house while he’s away. And it’s a hit. The success, however, inevitably conflicts with not only her other responsibilities, but her sense of who she is and wants to be. Fortunately, Hannah’s passion for preparing knock-out food is always there—to distract, to soothe, and to empower.
Discussion Questions
1. What are Hannah’s various problems and challenges as the novel begins?
2. Early in the novel Hannah tells Adam’s parents they’re living together and is accidentally overheard insulting Millie’s cooking at Millie’s party (11, 39). Adam later chides her that she’s “physically incapable of keeping [her] mouth shut” (46). Hannah’s mother, the professor, later tells her, “You are a strong woman … Some man isn’t going to muzzle you” (62). Is Hannah a “strong woman”? Or is she a strong personality? How do you feel about these various instances of Hannah “speaking her mind”?
3. What are the various effects—positive or not—of the different hierarchical systems at work in the novel: Adam’s family’s social class, Hannah’s parents’ academic standing, Washington DC’s political environment, to name a few?
4. In what ways does the food and restaurant industry create similar hierarchical or exclusionary systems? How does Hannah deal with this hierarchy differently than the others?
5. One issue throughout the novel is the tension between the kitchen as a confining or even oppressive place for women and one that allows for creativity, freedom, and even power. Which seems more the case for each of the characters—Hannah, her mother, Rachel, or Sandy Prescott? Why?
6. Thinking about Hannah bringing a carrot cake to the Prescotts, drowning her sorrows in ice cream, or starting a supper club, what are some of the different uses of or intentions for food throughout the novel?
7. In what ways is preparing and eating food an emotional experience?
8. At the second meal of the Dupont Circle Supper Club, “everyone at the table is talking about the foods they grew up with as kids and crave whenever they visit home” (145). What role does memory or nostalgia play in our enjoyment of food? What are some of your own personal comfort foods?
9. Of all the dishes Hannah prepares, which would you most like to try? What’s the best food you’ve ever actually eaten, and who prepared it?
10. What motivates Hannah to deceive her landlord? Greed? Excitement? Desperation? Fear? Or something else?
11. What might be valuable about a supper club experience that restaurant dining doesn’t provide?
12. Should supper clubs be illegal? Regulated? Why or why not?
13. When finally confronting her parents about her unhappiness, Hannah’s father asks her, “Well, if you were so miserable and felt passionate about pursuing another career, why didn’t you just do it?” (352). Her answer is that she didn’t want to disappoint them. To what extent should this be a concern of Hannah’s?
14. About her strong abilities concerning her job, Hannah says, “Competence doesn’t necessarily equate with happiness” (348). What are your thoughts on this statement?
a conversation with dana bate
Q: How did you come to decide, given your background in science and journalism, to write a novel? What were the particular challenges of moving from nonfiction to fiction?
A: Are you suggesting it’s weird that I majored in molecular biophysics and biochemistry, only to become a broadcast journalist who eventually quit her job to write romantic comedies? Because I’m not seeing that at all.
In all seriousness, from the time I was a little kid, I always loved both writing and science. In high school, I was a member of the literary society (where I wrote a LOT of bad poetry), but at the same time I was also a big chemistry nerd. When I was sixteen, I studied creative writing at Oxford for the summer, and then when I started school in the fall, I dove into advanced placement chemistry. When I got to college, I realized pretty early that I had to choose one or the other. So I chose science. It was challenging, and I learned things I knew I’d never learn if I just read about it on my own time.
But I missed writing and telling stories, so I started writing for the Yale Scientific Magaz
ine. Then, during my senior year, I started working on a news radio program, and I fell in love. I was able to tell stories again! After I graduated, I went for my master’s in journalism at Northwestern University, and then I became a fullfledged journalist. But even in journalism, I missed the creativity and flexibility of fiction. So when my husband had a chance to do some work in London at the end of 2009, I quit my job, moved to London with him, and started the first draft of what eventually became The Girls’ Guide to Love and Supper Clubs.
Journalism provided a wonderful foundation for writing novels, both in terms of discipline and the craft of writing itself. I say foundation because I had to build quite a lot on top of what I’d already learned. In journalism, you work on concrete deadlines, but at least in the early days of writing a first novel, any deadlines are ones you set yourself. I had to treat those deadlines as seriously as if they’d been set by my editor. I also had to adjust to a world where I’m in charge, where the characters do and say whatever I make them do or say. In journalism, you’re always writing about what actually happened, and you’re (rightfully) penalized for taking any liberties with the truth. But in fiction, the writer creates the truth—a total change of pace from nonfiction and one I really enjoyed.
Q: Could you discuss any relationship or similarities that might exist between scientific lab work and that of the kitchen?
A: As far as I’m concerned, baking is just a big chemistry experiment where you can eat the results. At its heart, baking is chemistry. You have your materials (ingredients), methods (weights/volumes, instructions, baking temperature, baking time), data and results (does everything look the way it’s supposed to, and how many cookies/bars/muffins/cakes did I immediately stuff in my face?), and analysis and conclusion (would I make this again, and does this recipe belong in my recipe Hall of Fame?). In baking, as in a titration or ligation reaction, weights, volumes, times, and temperatures matter. If you take liberties with any of those things, you could end up with some burnt cookies or a cake that overflows onto the bottom of your oven.
