Wild Life in the Woods

GIVEAWAY! $25.00 AmEx Gift Card from Centrum and Nutrition Possible

2012-02-09T10:43:00.000-06:00

Greetings, fellow sojourners!

I call you fellow sojourners, because, while each person who reads this is distinctly different, each of us is on our own little journey through space and time.

It's been over a month now since the New Year arrived, with such a sense of promise. It's been a month now since many of us made those little resolutions that some of us are wont to make.

And even if we never formalized them out loud, perhaps in our hearts, we promised ourselves, that this year we'd do better. This year, we'd make some changes that would improve our quality of life. That would, perhaps, even improve our health.

I've screwed up.

How 'bout you?

I wish I could take a pill that would magically give me vibrant health.

Don't we all?

I sometimes watch Dr. Oz, in hopes of learning what his promos interminably promise will give me the secret to health. And if you've watched his show a few times, I bet you picked up on the fact that on nearly every show, he is offering some new scientific breakthrough in regard to a vitamin or herb, or supplement that will add years to your life/give you heart health/cushion your aching joints/aid you in weight loss/fight cancer and on and on and on it goes.

In my quest to enjoy good health, so as to better enjoy the life I've been given, I'm totally willing to take a little vitamin or a little supplement. My own doctor recommends it: he says that a multivitamin is a good idea. And that there are some supplements that can help my particular health concerns. But which ones? What does a person of my age with my issues need to take to give herself her best chance at enjoying good health?

Have you ever wondered what YOU should be doing to keep yourself running at your own peak efficiency?

So when I walk into my local health food store and take a look at the dizzying array of vitamins and supplements (and this is just ONE aisle of about four aisles at my local Whole Foods/Whole Body store) and see this:

A bit overwhelming, yes? And remember: this is ONE aisle of four more aisles just like it.

before you know it, it starts to feel like I'm seeing this:

I don't feel so good anymore...

What's a body to do?

I read about a site sponsored by Centrum Vitamins and WebMD called Nutrition Possible. It offers trusted information from health sources, nutrition experts AND guided information through a unique self-assessment tool – for free! I created an account, and completed an assessment: quick and easy!

The results of my assessment make it easier for me to choose the vitamins and supplements that fit my nutritional needs, based on the health concerns and goals that I selected. Based on the information I provided, this site made great recommendations for foods I should add to my diet, that provide the nutrients that my present diet lacks. And finally, they offer suggestions for exercises that will help me to achieve my health goals.

One more thing to be aware of: once you complete the assessment, you'll have access to a $10.00 off coupon for any of Centrum's ProNutrient Supplements, if you purchase one of Centrum's Multivitamins. And if you've been vitamin/supplement shopping lately, you know that $10.00 off is a GOOD thing.

What was already good, is about to get better.

I've got a GIVEAWAY for you!!!

I'll be giving away one $25.00 American Express Gift Card!!!

To enter the giveaway, take the assessment on Nutrition Possible , and then come back here and leave a comment, sharing something you didn't know you were lacking.

Here is a link to the rules for the giveaway on this post.

The deadline for entries on this post will be 9:00, CST, Monday, February 13th, and the winner will be chosen through Random Number Generator. I will announce the winner on the 14th. Your odds of winning might be pretty favorable, so jump in, take the assessment, and then come on back and share what you've learned.

In the interests of FULL disclosure: there is a prize involved for me if I get the most clicks on that site/comments on this site that involves a free ticket to the Blogging Conference, Blissdom, and I have a sweet friend I would LOVE to give that ticket to. So, show me some love, while you're doing yourself a favor: click on the link from this post and enter to win the gift card.

If you share this on Facebook or Twitter? That would be extra nice, and I'd really appreciate it. If you tweet, use the hashtag: #NutritionPossible. Here's a sample tweet you could use:

#NutritionPossible #Giveaway: enter to win a $25.00 American Express Gift Card and learn about your health needs. bit.ly/xaj2Xr

I am participating in a sponsored campaign hosted by One2One Network. I received incentives and am eligible for prizing. While all opinions stated are my own, I make no claims about NutritionPossible.com as a product or its effectiveness.

Expensive Steak House Taste at a Fraction of the Price

2012-02-04T17:11:00.000-06:00

We had the best steak we've ever eaten in our own home the other night! The flavor was fantastic! And all it took was a few secrets: secrets that you, too, can use to produce the best steak you've ever grilled! Because, I'm going to share with you what I've learned. And if you're wondering just what those secrets are, they have to do with: dry-aging, salting, and compound butter.

My birthday beef: dry-aged, salted, and served with compound butter.

Have you ever eaten out at a fancy steak house, and wondered why the steak you grill at home never tastes quite as magnificent as the one you got at that expensive restaurant?

The first thing you need to know is that the grade of beef that is served in expensive steak houses is different than what we buy in our local grocery stores. Most of the finer steak houses and hotels offer Prime beef, which is not , for the most part, available in most grocery stores. You CAN find it, but only 2% of all beef produced in this country is designated as Prime. Mostly, you find Choice beef, not Prime, for sale at your local grocery store.

There are two things that set Prime Beef apart from Choice: marbling and maturity. Prime beef is more heavily marbled, and, more fat = more flavor. Secondly, Prime beef comes from younger animals. Less maturity = more tenderness.

Prime beef is more expensive than Choice. Much more expensive. But it honestly is worth the money! Unfortunately, my husband and I have champagne tastes and a malt liquor budget. So, we decided to see what we could do to a Choice cut of beef that would give it its best hope of tasting like a Prime steak. What else do steak houses do that makes their steaks taste so great?

Other than using prime beef, expensive steak houses will typically use beef that has been dry aged. Here's what we learned about dry-aging. Dry-aging steaks gives them a better flavor and texture. When moisture evaporates from the beef through the process of dry-aging, the fat becomes more concentrated. We also learned that dry-aging triggers the breakdown of muscle proteins in the beef, giving the steak a dense, more tender texture. The peptides and amino acids that form as the muscle proteins are breaking down impart a smokier flavor to the steak.

Because of an article we read in Cooks Illustrated, we wanted to try dry aging our beef at home. We bought 3 really thick T-bone steaks, Choice grade, from Costco. When I say really thick, I'd estimate they were about 1 1/2" in thickness. We wrapped the steaks in cheesecloth to prevent excessive dehydration, and put them on a rack (for air circulation) that had been placed inside a jelly roll pan, placing them in the bottom of the fridge, which is the coldest part. (Yes, one challenge you might find - it was a challenge for me, at least - is cleaning out the real estate in your fridge to make room for a cookie sheet filled with a single layer of moo. So, that could be something to plan/work around.)

Next, we left them there for 4 days. Not a quick fix meal. So...something else to plan around. But, hey, it gave me all week to look forward to eating them.

The next step we took was called "salting". Which is exactly what it sounds like. Why do this? Well, when salt is applied to meat, it draws the juices from the meat to the surface, initially, but then, the briny solution that forms from the meat juices + the salt itself gets drawn back deep down into the meat. This imparts that wonderful flavor all the way down into the depths of the steak. The steak surface benefits as well, as a nice crust is formed while the steak is cooking. As you will see, we sprinkled our steaks liberally with kosher salt. Steaks need to be salted about 1 hour prior to cooking. About 3/4 of a teaspoon of salt per 8 ounces of meat will do nicely. Take the steaks out of the fridge, remove and discard the cheesecloth, and apply the salt evenly over the surface, and let rest at room temperature for an hour before grilling it. Immediately before grilling our steaks, my husband rinsed the salt off the surface, and then patted them completely dry with paper towels.

We grilled those steaks to a temperature of around 133º, and then took them off the grill. This produced the steak you see here, which we would call medium rare. The temperature of the meat rose to 140º after coming off the grill.

The third thing we did was use a compound butter. Compound butters are nothing new: James Beard was recommending them back in the day. My Mom used to make a garlic butter for the steaks we ate nearly every summer Saturday night when I was growing up. (Those steaks that on their own tasted of lighter fluid, but when doctored with Mom's garlic butter? Mmmmm!) And you can make one as simply as smashing up a garlic clove, and putting it in a half a stick of melted butter, the way my Mom did it. And that will be fabulous. Or you can try something like what I did last night, which was sautéeing a minced shallot with some thyme and pepper and a minced clove of garlic thrown in at the last minute, in a bit of butter. Let that cool to room temp, and then mix it in with a half a stick of softened butter, and put a blop of that on each steak. It's not an exact science. I'd encourage you to try whatever you think your family might enjoy, in terms of which herb you like. Parsley would be fantastic, too. Or chives. Or rosemary.

Picture time!

Day One of dry aging. Note the cheesecloth.

Day 3 of Dry-Aging.

Day Four of Dry-Aging, before salting.

Salted: one hour and a half before grilling.

Salted: One hour and a half after salting. Note that quite a bit of the salt has been drawn in.

The end result: crusty on the outside, juicy and like buttah on the inside.

If you think this is share-worthy, tweet-worthy, or stumble-worthy, share on, tweet your heart out, or stumble away! I'd be ever so grateful!

How do you like your steak?

I Was a Pinterest Pigeon

2012-01-31T12:44:00.001-06:00

Have you discovered Pinterest? It's fun, and can be quite addictive, I'm told. I'm NOT addicted to it, and due to the story I'm about to tell you, I may not ever be addicted.

Because PAIN is an effective deterrent for most of us in the prevention of addictions. And people, let me tell you: I had me some Pinterest Pain this week.

I am but a costly casualty on the highway to happiness that is the promise of Pinterest.

Because Pinterest is full of GREAT IDEAS!!! Right? You know it. I know it. We can scroll through genius idea after genius idea, and find fulfillment, beauty and happiness plastered all over its beautiful boards. Is this not so???

I'm here to debunk that little idea.

Learn from me. Learn from my mistakes. Do not travel the trail I have trod.

(As an aside: there is some tasty alliteration going on throughout this post. If you like that kind of thing, enjoy.)

Here's my tale of terrible trouble:

It was my Birthday Eve. I was home alone. My family was attending a party, and I decided to do my hair and get prettied up for the following day. Before I got in the shower, I took one last glance at a "pin" I had seen earlier in the day. (The names and links will be omitted, to protect the "pinners" involved, but one of them knows who she is...:-D If you're REALLY a dedicated NancyDrew type super sleuth, you can probably google this up, but I'm not going to give you an assist in doing so.)

The pin/post in question has something to do with "DIY Bioré strips". The promise of the post was this: that if you mix up a little package of unflavored gelatin and a couple of tablespoonfuls of milk, microwave it for a few seconds, and then spread it all over your face, it is like giving yourself a facial, and you can peel any blackheads or impurities out of your pores, and your skin will be baby soft.

Now, I've given myself facials before that had to "set" before you rinsed them off, so I was kind of familiar with that concept. And the girl in the picture on the post showed herself applying the gunk all over her entire face. Not just on her nose (like you do with the aforementioned facial strips). And she showed pictures of herself peeling the stuff off, with evidence of a successful result.

So: here's the way my thought process went. In other words, here's how I succumbed to the implied promise of younger, softer skin. Here's how I became a Pinterest Pigeon.

"Hey! That sounds like something I could do tonight! No one's home. I have the gelatin. It's cheap to do. I bet it will be like peeling Elmer's glue off my palm. Remember when I used to do that when I was a kid? Remember how satisfying that was? How the goal was to pull the biggest piece off I could manage, because it looked so cool? That's the way the stuff this lady has peeled off looks in the pictures in her post: like she just peeled strips of Elmer's glue off her face. That would be so fun! And then, I'd have really soft, smooth, young looking skin for my birthday tomorrow! This is going to be great!"

And thus, this little lamb was led to the slaughter.

I mixed up the gelatin with the milk, microwaved it, and began applying it.

The lady in the post said that the stuff left one's facial hair, but removed dirt and impurities from her pores.

To say that this was not my experience would be the understatement of a lifetime. I'm possibly one of the fortunate few in this life, in that I have never had to tweeze my eyebrows or remove facial hair of any type. My eyebrows, if anything, tend toward the sparse side.

Little did I know they were about to become sparser.

In applying the stuff, I inadvertently got a bit of it into the edge of one of my eyebrows. Hey, if it was like peeling off Elmer's glue? How bad could it be?

It was NOT like peeling off Elmer's glue.

After 15 minutes of letting the gelatin glop "set", I began attempting to peel it off at the lower corner of my jaw. You know, the part where the peach fuzz is located.

Holy mother.

Tears sprang to my eyes and my nose began to run. This was going to hurt. And hurt big.
And I knew that in theory, I could rinse it off. But the promise, the allure, of younger smoother skin dangled before me like a carrot in front of Balaam's ass, as it were, and I REALLY thought this would work. So...bravely...I soldiered on.

"After all", I reasoned, "I've given birth to two babies. How bad can this be?"

(I think at this point, I had forgotten about the epidurals I'd had when I'd given birth to those babies. Come to think of it, a little novocaine injection might have really been helpful during this procedure. That, or a Valium. Or both.)

Here's how bad it could be:

It was like peeling a huge sheet of industrial strength extra sticky duct tape off my face. Every little follicle of peach fuzz shrieked for mercy. Now I'm scared when it starts growing back, I'm going to have Fred Flintstone's Five O'Clock Shadow.

Will I need to shave, now? Image from here.

When I tried to go slowly, my skin stretched like laffy taffy. I probably have new wrinkles now that I never had before, thanks to the stretching. My jowls now approach my shoulders. In fact, I'm pretty sure that this picture will give you a sense of what I felt was going on:

Before using pore strips, this was a bulldog. Now, it's a shar-pei. Image from here.

When I tried going fast, the pain was like blinding hot, white light. But at least it was over faster that way. And my left eyebrow? Where the hair was already sparse? There's a bald spot, that makes it look like the cherries I flambéed the other day, won.

I now suffer from PTRD: Post Traumatic Rip Disorder.

No: there will be no pictures of me to go with this post. I have some pride.

Could these DIY facial strips have worked well for someone? Yes, I think so. If you are prone to blackheads, have younger, thicker skin than mine, and are used to removing facial hair in other ways, I bet it would work very well for you, as long as you keep it out of your eyebrows. I think, in particular, if you only use it like the Bioré strips are supposed to be used: on your nose or chin area, you wouldn't have a bad experience at all. Hey: the lady who wrote the blog post seemed to like it enough that she wrote about it, and shared it with the entire internet.

Of course, she could be a sadist, getting a whole lot of demented glee from Pinterest Pigeons like me. But I don't really believe that.

I actually really DO like Pinterest. But I will be a little more careful next time I think I'll try a great new idea.

P. S. Maybe you should pin this article....

LOL!

I'm linking this post up to MamaKat's writer's workshop, just so as to warn any other hairy women out there.

Susan in the Boonies is Out of the Office Today

2012-01-30T00:28:00.000-06:00

Today is Susan in the Boonies' birthday, so she’s taking a vacation day from her Wild Life In The Woods. I’m Lindsey, (aka the Big Bison) the Guest Birthday Poster, and I’ll attempt to hold your attention until Susan returns to her Wild Life In The Woods.

Every year around our house, Susan's birthday, January 30th, seems to last longer and longer.

First: There’s the “Dinner Out Evening”, where we make some poor server set one of the house deserts on fire and sing happy birthday to the Birthday Girl. This year’s edition was a bit unsatisfying because the server begged off the singing portion. He said we really didn’t want to hear him sing. REALLY? This is Music City, where all waiters and waitresses aren’t even considered for the job unless they possess world class vocal chops...

When you reach a certain age, lighting all the birthday candles requires the Fire Dept. to be on standby.

Second: There’s the Birthday Dinner at Home, where I attempt to cook something that will wow and impress the Birthday Girl. About the only way I can do this is to cook or smoke something on the grill. Like, maybe,

BIRTHDAY BUTT:

Editor's Note: Nothing says "Happy Birthday" like sticking some candles in your butt.

Third: The Baking of the Birthday Cake. Last year I found a recipe from Ina Garten, the Barefoot Contessa. for her best birthday cake. The recipe called for kosher salt. I went to the pantry and pulled out the only box of kosher salt we have, which was “coarse ground”, not realizing you can procure kosher salt that is “finely ground” from the grocery store, (And let me just insert, here, that I really do not like going to the grocery store because there’s just so much stuff in them and I tend to glaze over and get lost in the aisles from sensory overload. Why can’t they just have a kosher salt store? I could be in and out in less than a minute, unless there’s a line but I digress)*

*EDITOR’S NOTE: This appears to the editor to be a digression on a digression, but let’s not split hairs. Or salt crystals. Returning you now to the whine already in progress.

...I used the coarse ground variety. It's possible the result was not a cake of which Ina would have approved. There were these little rocks of kosher salt throughout the cake.

Editor's Note: Here we see the decorating prowess of the Guest Poster in action, in last year's offering.

So this year I found this cake recipe over on Love and Olive Oil's website: a bourbon layer cake with chocolate buttercream icing....the picture there makes me drool and drool is very often a happy thing.*

*EDITOR’S NOTE: this recipe was originally shown to the Guest Post Author by the Editor, as a potential birthday cake for the Guest Post Author. The Editor was willing to prepare this cake for the birthday of the Guest Post Author, because the Editor KNOWS how much the GUEST POST AUTHOR likes bourbon. So the Editor questions exactly WHO this cake is for in the first place. Back to the ongoing whine, still in progress.

But, we have this 14 year old daughter who, shocking though it may be, does.not.like.chocolate. I’d say it’s possible that she was switched at birth with another baby in the hospital, except that we do have this photographic evidence that clearly shows she’s ours:

Editor's Note: Nothing ugly can be said about such surpassing cuteness.

But back to this year’s cake: taking into account that our daughter doesn’t like chocolate, I decided to try to make the bourbon cake into cupcakes. This will allow the rest of the family to have chocolate icing and our daughter to ice her cupcake however she wants. My plan is for this to be our little version of cupcake wars.

So, I got my bake on and this is what happened:

Editor's Note: This is what the Guest Poster likes to refer to as "getting his bake on".

Fourth: there’s apparently going to be a Public Viewing of the Birthday Girl, at another local restaurant with some of her friends. Sorry: no pics of that, because that is in the works for tonight.

Oh and just so you’ll know, this year we were unable to schedule Event #2, the Birthday Dinner at Home, before Jan 30th, due to other obligations, so, we’ve got that ahead of us one night this week. Susan wants a nice juicy steak cooked on the grill. That I can do, without too much trouble (like going to the grocery store multiple times because I forgot to get one or two ingredients because I was overcome by the amount of stuff on the shelves....I’m digressing again.)*

*EDITOR’S NOTE: Even though the birthday celebrations may SEEM to be a bit spread out over a long period of time, this post is starting to suffer from the same malady. Get on with it, Dude. Back to the whine. Again.

The Birthday Cupcakes will likely be long gone by the time we have the Birthday Dinner at Home and I’m hoping to slide by without having to get my bake on again for that meal as that may make this day of days, January 30th, last even longer.*

*INSERT EDITORIAL EYE ROLLING.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m wildly in love with the woman who lives her Wild Life In The Woods and am grateful for every day I have to share life with her. Now you may be wondering how old Susan is on this day of days.....well, all I’ll say is she’s old enough to know better than to let me cook in her kitchen.

Happy Birthday Susan, and my birthday wish for you is that we have many, many more years to celebrate January 30th.

Love,

Lindsey (aka The Big Bison)*

*EDITOR'S FINAL NOTE: It's his first blog post. Y'all be nice to him in your comments.

Lime Cardamom Frozen Yogurt with Brandied Cherries

2012-01-26T18:37:00.001-06:00

Lime Cardamom Frozen Yogurt with Brandied Cherries. It's a party for your mouth.

Tart and tangy, bright and sweet, refreshingly creamy: this frozen yogurt, on its own, is already all that. Drizzle it with the wonderfully boozy richness of the brandied cherries, and you introduce a luscious depth of flavor to this tongue-teasingly amazing frozen concoction that will cause you to sigh with satisfaction.

This recipe for Lime Cardamom Frozen Yogurt was so good, it may now be my new favorite. But, honestly, that's kind of like asking me to choose between my kids! How do I choose which I like better, the lime cardamom or the lemon blueberry?

I'm starting to really get the hang of Jeni's recipes for her Splendid Ice Creams at Home, now that I've made four of them (Vanilla Bean, Black Coffee, Lemon Blueberry and this one, Lime Cardamom.)

To make the Brandied Cherries, I used a recipe from The Joy of Cooking for Cherries Jubilee as a base, and then altered it to fit what I thought would be good. It wasn't just good: it was GREAT!

So here are the basic things to remember when you try one of her recipes, based on my own learning experiences (mistakes):
.
1) Be sure that your cream cheese has completely softened and reached room temperature, or else you'll have little lumps of cream cheese in your ice cream or frozen yogurt.

2) Be sure to make any extra syrups called for (like lime or lemon, blueberry or brandied cherries) in the recipe well before you start, so that they have the opportunity to cool to room temperature as well.

3) If you're making frozen yogurt, you'll need to strain some of the liquid out of the yogurt. You must do this 6 - 8 hours before you begin making the frozen yogurt, to make the consistency of the yogurt more dense, so be sure to include that amount of time in your plans. Jeni called for cheesecloth, but I didn't have any, and discovered that paper coffee filters lining a strainer work just fine. I also discovered later this week that my local grocery store has cheesecloth readily available. It was in the household cleaning section, surprisingly enough to me.

4) If you are making frozen yogurt, and you strain one 1 quart container of Greek yogurt (which I did), you will have enough solids for two batches of yogurt. You need 1 and 1/4 c. for each of Jeni's frozen yogurt recipes, and you'll get exactly 2 and 1/2 c. of strained yogurt out of a 1 quart container of Greek yogurt. So make one batch of frozen yogurt, and save the other cup and 1/4 of drained yogurt in a covered plastic container in the fridge, to use for a second batch. :-D Which you're going to want, I promise!

The only problem I had with this particular recipe, which I also had with the frozen lemon yogurt, was fishing the lime zest out of the ready-for-the-ice-cream-machine yogurt, once it had chilled in the Ziplock baggie. If you have a suggestion for an easy way to do this, I'm all ears. Basically, I'm reduced to hunting around in that baggie with a long handled teaspoon, to fish out the zest. But it is important to do, because the long strips of zest can wrap around the ice cream machine's stirring paddle. (Don't ask me how I know this to be true...but I do.)

I did not alter Jeni's recipe for the lime cardamom frozen yogurt in any way, except that I came up with the idea for wanting to combine it with some kind of sauce made from sweetened tart dried cherries. I soaked the cherries in brandy, and then flamed them, and then added Kirsch (a lovely cherry brandy) at the end, to give them a nice finish. And it was kind of a genius idea, if I do say so myself.

So here's Jeni's recipe for:

LIME CARDAMOM FROZEN YOGURT

INGREDIENTS:

LIME SYRUP:

3 to 4 limes (I used 3)
3 T. sugar

FROZEN YOGURT BASE:

1 quart plain low fat yogurt
1 1/2 c. whole milk
2 T. cornstarch
2 oz. cream cheese, softened
1/2 c. heavy cream
2/3 c. sugar
1/4 c. light corn syrup
zest of 3 limes, removed in long, large strips
1/4 t. ground cardamom

ADVANCE PREP:

For the strained yogurt:
Fit a sieve over a bowl and line it with one or two paper coffee filters (or 2 pieces of cheesecloth). Pour the yogurt into the sieve, cover with plastic wrap, and refrigerate for 6 to 8 hours, to drain. Discard the liquid, and measure out 1 1/4 c. of the strained yogurt. Set aside.

PREP:

For the lime syrup:
Using a vegetable peeler, remove the zest from 3 limes in large strips. Reserve.
Halve the limes and squeeze enough juice to measure 1/2 c.
Combine lime juice and sugar in a small saucepan and bring to a boil over medium high heat, stirring to dissolve the sugar. Remove from the heat and let cool.

For the frozen yogurt base:
Mix about 2 T. of the milk with the cornstarch in a small bowl to make a smooth slurry.
Whisk the cream cheese in a medium bowl until smooth.
Fill a large bowl with ice and water.

COOK:

Combine the remaining milk, the cream, sugar, corn syrup, and lime zest in a 4-qt. saucepan, bring to a rolling boil over medium-high heat, and boil for 4 minutes. Remove from the heat and gradually whisk in the cornstarch mixture.
Bring the mixture back to a boil over medium-high heat, and boil for 4 minutes.
Remove from the heat and gradually whisk in the cornstarch mixture.
Bring the mixture back to a boil over medium-high heat and cook, stirring with a heatproof spatula, until slightly thickened, about1 minute. Remove from the heat.

CHILL:

Gradually whisk the hot mil mixture into the cream cheese until smooth. Add the 1 1/4 c. yogurt, the lime syrup and cardamom,and whisk until smooth.
Pour the mixture into a 1-gallon Ziploc freezer bag and submerge the sealed bag in the ice bath. Let stand, adding more ice as necessary, until cold, about 30 minutes.

FREEZE:

Remove the lime zest. Pour the frozen yogurt base into the frozen canister and spin until thick and creamy.
Pack the frozen yogurt into a storage container, press a sheet of parchment directly against the surface, and seal with an airtight lid. Freeze in the coldest part of your freezer until firm, at least 4 hours.

BRANDIED CHERRY SAUCE:

1 c. dried sweetened tart cherries
1/4 c. slightly warmed brandy
2 T. kirsch

I soaked the cherries for an hour or so in 1/4 c. brandy. When it was time to make the dessert, I drained them through a sieve, and measured the remaining brandy. I used that, and added a bit more to what was in the measuring cup, so that I again had 1/4 c. brandy with which to make the sauce. I warmed the brandy for about 20 seconds in the microwave. Into a saute pan I poured the soaked cherries, and then over them, I poured the brandy. I warmed them both over medium heat, and then ignited the brandy with a long lighter. (USE EXTREME CAUTION HERE. HERE'S A VIDEO LINK YOU SHOULD WATCH, IN CASE YOU HAVE NEVER BEFORE IGNITED ALCOHOL.)

When the flame had extinguished, I CAUTIOUSLY added the kirsch, WHICH IS ALCOHOL, WHICH WILL BURN, so make sure the flames are out.

Pour all this over the frozen yogurt. Oh, my dear. You're going to be so very happy.

For the Purists among us: Lime Cardamom Frozen Yogurt Yumminess, Solo. Without the Brandied Cherries.
Also wonderful!

Feel free to share this on Pinterest, or, wherever you've a mind to share it!

Remember That Thing You Can Never Live Down?

2012-01-25T23:37:00.000-06:00

Remember The Partridge Family? Remember little Danny Partridge?
Image from here.

The title to this post was supposed to have been:

"Top Ten Life Stories That I Will Never Live Down".

(You see, I'm writing this as a response to a writing prompt given to me by MamaKat, over on Mama's Losin' It.)

But, really, why do there need to be ten?

Ten stories are unnecessary. Superfluous. Overkill!

For me, there is one, and one only.

There is only a need for one story that I will never live down.

And I KNOW you want to know what that one story is.

Our family had gone on a trip to the Baltimore, MD, area, for a family reunion.

And as best I recall, we had taken a day and driven over to the Eastern Shore of the Chesapeake Bay. It must have seemed like a good time to spend the day at the beach.

On the drive back to our cousin's home in Baltimore, we had stopped on the road in Salisbury, MD, at a fund raiser for the local firemen there.

I was about 10 years old at the time.

The firemen of Salisbury, MD, were serving up an oyster fry.

In hindsight, I honestly don't know to this very day if I might possibly be allergic to oysters. I say this because I have had another bad experience following ingesting oysters, after taking a bite of an oyster dip at a potluck Christmas party. I didn't know what it was until after I had taken a bite of that dip/spread/whatever it was that was sitting in a casserole dish in that dimly lit room. And then I began to wonder what the heck I had just eaten. I asked, and was told it was oyster something. That experience did not end well. I didn't even make it home from the party before I paid for it. But then there was another time after that when I ate raw oysters on the half shell at a restaurant, with absolutely no ill effect.

So…I STILL wonder.

Anyhow, we stopped to support the firemen at this oyster fry. Two carloads of us. My immediate family, and my uncle and aunt and their seven kids.

What I think I recall them serving were fried oyster sandwiches.

And at the time, I thought they were pretty good: hey - they were fried. Enough salt and deep fried batter and you can make most things taste good. And I'd never had oysters before. And everyone else in my family and extended family were eating them like they were going out of style.

So, I ate my sandwich, too.

And then, we all went on the drive back to my uncle's house near Baltimore.

And my uncle and aunt invited me to ride with them and their family. (We probably swapped a few cousins for cousins, to keep the body count even.) But I rode with my uncle in his car, as a special treat.

My uncle and aunt had two daughters who were almost my age, and I wanted to be with them: playmates! How fun!!! See, I came from a family of four children, where I was five years younger than my nearest sibling. So everything I did or said was generally counted as silly or less important, because I was "the baby". So to hang with two girl cousins who were almost my age, and with an uncle and aunt who were very fond of me, was a very special treat.

So riding home from the Eastern Shore was fun! SO much fun!!! I was independent from the rest of my family, and was being treated as a special guest, and I was having a ball: the time of my life!!!

Until I started noticing that I was feeling a little car sick.

A bit queasy.

And then queasier.

And then I noticed those oysters were sitting like ROCKS in my gut.

And then my throat started feeling like it was closing off. Like someone had put a clamp around it.

And then my upper intestines started sounding the "WoooooooooOOOOT! WoooooOOOOT! WooooooOOOOT!!!! RED ALERT!!! BATTLE STATIONS!!!!" alarm siren that they used to sound on the deck of the Starship Enterprise. (You know. Star Trek?) "ALL HANDS ON DECK!!! THIS IS NOT A DRILL!!!! REPEAT!!! THIS IS NOT A DRILL!!! RED ALERT!!!! WoooOOOOT! WooOOOT! WooooOOOT!!!"

And I KNEW that EMERGENCY EVACUATION PROCEDURES for the contents of my stomach were about to take place.

But what to do?

I was a shy, quiet little girl: a favorite of my uncle BECAUSE I was shy and quiet and sweet.

"Uuummm….Uncle Ralph???" my tremulous voice queried. "Uhhhhh….I feel kinda sick…..".

(Yes. His name really is Ralph. Don't think I don't appreciate the irony. And I could not possibly make this stuff up.)

"Well, do you need us to roll down the window, Sweetheart, so you can get some fresh air?"

"Uuuuhhhh….yeah…." I replied, as various cousins shifted positions in the back seat (long about the time all the oysters in my stomach were really getting rolling on shifting their own positions) to allow me to hang my head out the window. And my cousin Kathy began the LENGTHY process of rolling down the window.

How long can that take, right?

Well…sadly…the answer is …just a teeny. bit. too. long.

Yup. Regrettably, Kathy, though an amazing athlete with lighting quick reflexes, couldn't QUITE get those reflexes going quickly enough to get that window rolled down. Not, at least, before I hurled my entire lunch UP ONTO THAT SAME WINDOW. So not only did I not make it TO the window, but everyone in the back of the car was treated to the absolutely HORRIFIC SIGHT of the contents of my gut, splattered and dripping down the inside of the car window. And then...there was the stench. All the way back to Baltimore.

Friiiiiiied oysters.

Mmmmm, mmmmm, mmmmm.

So, since that time…

I have graduated from high school. Graduated from college. Lived on another continent and learned their culture and language. Been gainfully employed as an educational professional. Obtained a Master's degree. Been AGAIN gainfully employed. Gotten married. Had two kids. Been responsible for providing an education for those two kids. At present, I'm even writing a blog that is not doing too badly.

And STILL.

STILL!!!

At every family reunion, the very first thing that one set of my cousins will say to me is not, "How are you doing?" or "Gosh, it's great to see you," or "Wow! Don't you look great! Whatcha been up to?".

Nope.

The very FIRST kind words they treat me to, invariably, are:

"Hey! Remember that time you threw up all over the back of Dad's car and it splatted down the window???"

Because….

when you've achieved THAT level of notoriety...

after that….

I mean…

what else IS there?

It's all downhill from there.

Right?

I feel sorry for those child stars who peak so early in their young lives.

The Partridge Family may be gone, but for Danny, it's never been forgotten.
Image from here.

Here's to you, Danny Bonaduce/Danny Partridge. You, and all the other young Hollywood stars who've reached the apex of your career far too soon.

I know how you feel, man.

Now. How about you? What are YOU trying to live down? :-D

P.S. Whatever you do, for gosh sakes...don't share this! ;-D

For more great stories like this one, (but probably lots better than this one) you can visit here:

Lincoln Town Car Burritos

2012-01-24T20:28:00.000-06:00

Arriba! Arriba!

These aren't just your average burritos, muchachos.

These burritos take the food of the common hombre, and kick it up a notch or twelve.

It is, I dare say, The Lincoln Town Car of the Burrito Automotive family.

(When I named these, I never thought that I might have chosen a car metaphor because beans tend to give people gas. But...Sigmund Freud's slip MIGHT be showing...that's all I'm sayin'...)

And my friends, I offer unto you the keys to the culinary kingdom, for taking a ho-hum kind of dish, the lowly burrito, and turning it into a dish that your family begs you to make. Excellence in every area. My cleanly little secrets for making a GREAT burrito.

Secret #1: A Great Big Tip on Cooking Beans

This recipe originally came from the Gourmet Today cookbook (the lime green one) and it said to use canned beans, but I keep dried pinto beans in my pantry, because they are economical and delicious. So right off the bat, I change the written recipe a bit by cooking my own dried beans. I utilized a tip I learned from Cooks Illustrated in regard to cooking beans, which is counter-intuitive to everything I have ever heard about cooking beans. The general wisdom one USUALLY hears is: don't salt beans till the end of their cooking time, or they will get tough.

But after tons of experiments and research, Cooks Illustrated found that if you basically brine the beans in your overnight pre-soak, then rinse them the next morning, and then cook them in fresh water, they come out creamier.

So, tip #1: The night before, put 3 T. of salt in about 4 quarts of water, and soak your rinsed and sorted dried pinto beans. I soaked about 2 lbs. of beans. The next morning or afternoon, rinse them off, drop in a smoked ham hock (that part is optional, but if you want to know MY secrets, that's how I made mine, and they were yummy. This can be omitted if you find the added fat - and flavor - undesireable.) and cook them till creamy tender. I think mine cooked for 2 and 1/2 hours, but your mileage/cook time may vary.

Cooks Illustrated says you can soak them in that salt solution for anywhere from 8 to 24 hours, so do what you need to do. You can do this with the quick soak method, too, if you need to.

Secret #2: A Marvelous Little Homemade Condiment called Pickled Onions.
For years I saw these being recommended in Gourmet magazine, and for years I avoided them. I'm not THAT big of an onion fan. The very name, "pickled onions" sounded nasty to me. But there they were again, lurking in their bean burrito recipe...and they sounded easy enough to make, and I thought, "Well...I've got some red onions in the closet...I could do this easily enough...it's worth a try...."

Well....wrong. I made the solution...went to get the red onion out, and all my red onions had gone moldy. Big fat bummer. But I didn't want to NOT try the recipe because it would mean wasting the solution I had made...so...I used white onion instead.

White onions work! They're just not as sweet as red onions, but they are a fine substitute. So when you see the recipe, and you see it calls for red onions, and you have none, despair not. White onions work just fine.

DO NOT OMIT THE PICKLED ONIONS. THEY ARE DA BOMB.

Lincoln Town Car Bean Burritos
adapted from Gourmet Today Cookbook
Makes 6 burritos

Full of beans, pepper Jack cheese, and a wonderful condiment - quick Mexican pickled onions - these burritos are outrageously good. Panfrying melts the cheese and crisps the outside of the tortillas.

For Pickled Onions

2 c. water
3 T. red wine vinegar
2 T. sugar
1 medium red onion, halved lengthwise and thinly sliced crosswise

For Bean Filling

3 T. vegetable oil
5 garlic cloves, finely chopped
1 t. ground cumin
1/2 t. salt
1/4 t. freshly ground black pepper
2 lbs of cooked pinto beans (see directions at the top of this post)
1/3 c. water
3 scallions, finely chopped

For Assembling and Cooking Burritos:

6 (8- to 10-inch) flour tortillas
2 c. coarsely grated pepper Jack cheese (about 8 oz.)
1/3 c. finely choped fresh cilantro
1 1/2 T. vegetable oil

Accompaniments: salsa and sour cream

Prepare the Onions:
Bring water, vinegar, sugar, and salt to a boil in a 1 qt. heavy saucepan. Add onion and simmer, uncovered, until crisp-tender, about 3 minutes. Drain and cool to room temperature.

Make the Bean Filling:
Heat oil in a 12-inch skillet over moderate heat until hot but not smoking. Add garlic, cumin, salt, and pepper and cook, stirring until garlic is golden, about 1 minute. Stir in beans, coarsely mashing them with a potato masher or a large fork until combined. Add water and scallions and cook, stirring, until most of water ins absorbed, about 5 minutes. Remove from heat.

Assemble the Burritos:
Spread one sixth of bean filling across middle of 1 tortilla, leaving a 1" border at either end. Sprinkle with 1/3 c. cheese, 1 heaping T. pickled onions, and scant 1 T. cilantro. Fold ends of tortilla over filling, then roll up tightly, enclosing filling. Transfer seam side down to a plate and assemble 5 more burritos in same manner.

Cook the Burritos:
Heat 1 1/2 t. oil in a 10- to 11-inch cast-iron or other heavy skillet over moderately high heat until hot but not smoking. Add 2 burritos, seam side down and fry until lightly browned on underside, 1 to 2 minutes. Using tongs or a spatula, turn over and fry until golden, 1 to 2 minutes more. Transfer to paper towels to drain briefly, then transfer to a platter and cover loosely with foil to keep warm. Fry remaining 4 burritos in 2 batches in remaining oil in same manner.

Serve with salsa and sour cream.

The fixin's.

We add the Pepper Jack Cheese.

We add the pickled onions.

Salsa, sour cream, and cilantro: olé!

Thinking about pinning this on Pinterest? You should!
Or, share it on Facebook, or Twitter, or Stumble it!

How do you feel about Mexican food?

Ina Garten, Lisa Douglas, and Susan in the Boonies

2012-01-23T19:15:00.000-06:00

The other day, my daughter was watching the old '60's sitcom, Green Acres, on Hulu.

I was hearing bits of dialog coming from the computer where she was watching it in the other room.

And may I just say, that Oliver Douglas was very often a fairly grumpy man on that show. Probably had nothing to do with the nitwits he had to endure after his move to the Boonies. I mean, after his move to Hooterville. But that's neither here nor there.

So, today, at lunch, I walked into the kitchen, and my daughter was watching another episode. I decided I would see if I could determine what the appeal was for her.

At the end of the theme song, I froze, my gaze completely arrested by this image, of trend setting, fashion-forward, Lisa Douglas (aka Eva Gabor).

Note the collar and the pearls. Image from here.

And suddenly, I KNEW where Ina Garten, The Barefoot Contessa, had gotten her fashion sense!

Jeffrey doesn't feel the need to brandish a pitchfork. Cookies are much less threatening.
Image from here.

That Eva Gabor/Lisa Douglas: she was a trend-setting fashionista ahead of her time, and doubtless, a bit of an inspiration for our Barefoot Contessa.

Ina could have, however, taught Lisa more than a thing or two about cooking, as I recall.

Personally, I bet if Lisa Douglas had had cooking lessons from Ina Garten, Oliver Douglas would have been a much happier guy. More like Ina's Jeffrey. (Who just ADORES his Ina's Roast Chicken.) Look how happy Jeffrey is!

Green Acres is a bit different from living in the Hamptons. And it's certainly different from the Boonies. But there ARE similarities which may be noted by the careful observer.

Getting away from the hustle and bustle of big city life to a more rural setting?

You see the parallels?

Anyway, if you need me, I'll be upstairs looking in the bathroom mirror, practicing popping my collar.

Fun, Fun, Fun

2012-01-23T09:47:00.001-06:00

I clean up, OK? (image from here)

Well, in my ongoing efforts to do spring cleaning in the middle of winter, since winter has kind of been cancelled here in the Boonies this year, anyway, I have added a final "page", at the top of my blog, (check out the top right, under the picture frame) that will hopefully make it easier to navigate.

This one is called "Fun", and I've tried to include not only the funnier posts, but also some categories of some of my better, perhaps more interesting posts.

The sub-categories are called:

Fun
Not So Fun, Perhaps, but Interesting
Posts that put the "Wild" in "Wild Life"
About as Funny as a Heart Attack

If you're a new reader, or would just like to check out some more of my work, these posts are some great places to get started. Just click on the "Fun" link, and that should get you there.

Would love to hear back from you, especially if you run into a new (to you)post that tickles your fancy! Or, take this opportunity to re-read an old favorite. I did, yesterday, and there's some pretty good stuff amongst these.

Feedback, Again

2012-01-21T20:30:00.000-06:00

Feedback can be good...feedback can be bad....

So....

Since I've been organizing and cleaning up the place a bit...

I've been noticing that my recipes are becoming the posts that are getting the most traffic or clicks.

And I'm positive that this is in part due to my dear husband's wonderful photography.
And, it's probably also due to the fact that I am just posting more of the recipes for things that I cook.
And maybe, even, that I am becoming a little more known for having good food posts. (At least, I hope that's the case.)

And, I'd like to hear some feedback from you, my valued and trusted readers.

What do you hope/expect to find when you visit?

So, first, please, in your comment, classify yourself as a:

Devoted Reader
Fairly Regular Reader
Occasional Visitor
Newcomer

Next: please indicate in your comment what you expect/hope to find when you drop by for a visit:

A recipe
Something amusing/entertaining
What's Going On/Life in the Boonies
An encouraging word/thoughts that pertain to the spirit
I have no expectation: I'm up for whatever you've got!

(Or any other feedback that you might have for me, that I failed to think of: all comments welcome.)

I'm not planning on stopping writing on any of those general topics: food, faith, or fun. But, on the other hand, if there's something you're missing, or something that you'd like to see more of, I'd love to hear your thoughts! I'd like for your visit here, where you spend a few moments of your valuable time, to be something of actual value to you.

Talk to me!

New Page: Faith

2012-01-19T21:09:00.002-06:00

I'm trying to spruce the place up a bit.

Look at the top of the page, just underneath the title of the blog.

First, you may remember, I made the Recipes page.

But now, I've re-titled it "Food".

But it's really recipes. I'm just going for the whole alliteration thing: Food, Faith, Fun.

(Next up on my personal to-do list is to look back over the posts that I've written just for fun, and list their titles and links. A dedicated blogger's work is never done...)

So, today, I did a page that is comprised of links to my posts that pertain to faith. Of, devotionals, if you will.

I was actually kind of surprised at how many of those I've done!

So, if you click over here to my blog, and suddenly think, "I haven't spent much time thinking about God today. I'd like to take a moment and do that,", you have a whole page with handy dandy links, where you can click on any title or book of the Bible that strikes your fancy.

Hope the work that I've done proves valuable to you, in some way.

For All the Dogs I've Loved Before

2012-01-18T16:36:00.001-06:00

Who've traveled in and out ...
and in and out...
and in and out....
my door.

In backwards order, here are the top 5 dogs of my life:

5. Pilgrim Pee Dog - the neurotic German Shepherd
4. Deacon D. Dawg - old Iron Tum, the Yellow Labrador
3. Memphis - the mutt who looked like a black Lab, but who was actually part Golden Retriever, part Short Haired Pointer
2. Rommel - the Butt Head, half-breed German Shepherd

1. Gustav Von Rommel (aka Gus):

Because I need a German Shepherd picture, I'll insert one of Pilgrim Pee Dog, here, but this is not Gus.

He came to us, the unwanted runt of the litter. "Little Pup", the owner of his mom called him. He spent the days of his puppyhood doggie paddling in the Coal River of West Virginia, before he came to our house to live. Before he moved into my heart.

Gus was a German Shepherd. That, alone, says more than my mere words could ever say to some of you, that is, to those of you who are familiar with the breed. German Shepherds have one guiding mantra: "Must. Guard. Perimeter." And Gus knew that was his sworn duty.

He was my first, and probably my best dog, (but don't tell Memphis I said that) and I am sad to report that I have no pictures of him. He was gorgeous in that true-to-the-breed Rin Tin Tin kind of way. Absolutely classically beautiful. And even better that just looking good, he was a good boy, with a heart the size of Texas.

German Shepherds choose one family member to whom they especially bond, and Gus chose my Mom. Afternoon nap time/reading time and bedtime, you could find Gus, parked on my Mom's side of the bed. Keeping watch. Guarding the perimeter as best he could.

I always wanted him to love me best, and spent the better part of my childhood attempting to woo him away from Mom. And even though he didn't love me quite in the way that he adored my Mom, he definitely saw me as his responsibility. There was no doubt about that. When my little girlfriends would come over to play Barbies, and we'd have the Barbie cases opened and unpacked in the middle of the floor and, Gus would come and lie down in between me and my girlfriends. Just where I didn't want him. But he had to keep me safe. It was his sworn duty. Sieg heil.

Gus was the one to whom I turned whenever my heart was broken. He listened to my childhood woes, allowed me to cling to his neck while my tears soaked his ruff, and then licked the remainder from my cheeks when I was done crying on him. I don't know that he understood all the troubles that I poured out to him, but he regarded me with great seriousness and sincerity, and certainly acted as though he did

One day, Gus brought home a huge white pet rabbit. He carried it home by the scruff of the neck, and lay down on the porch with that poor bug-eyed, panting rabbit, its little heart racing, but its body frozen with fear, lying between Gus's large front paws. When the rabbit tried to move, Gus would put his mouth around the rabbit's neck again, but he never broke the skin nor left a mark, nor harmed the bunny in any way. We got the bunny back to the family to whom it belonged, (still don't know how it escaped from its hutch) which was a house that I passed on my way to school, but about a 5 minutes walk from our house. We still don't know how the bunny came to rest on our front porch between Gus's paws. And he never told us, either.

Gus was a great walking companion, and kind of famous in our neighborhood. He was not a barker or a growler, and he loved to go on walks with Mom, or me, when I would take him., He was alert, but dignified. Just doing his German Shepherd job. My little neighborhood friends used to drop by my house and ask if Gus could come out to play. I am not making this up.

He would fetch a stick for what seemed like world without end. Amen. And the quirkiest thing of all? Whenever Dad would mow the lawn, he would go to the woods behind our house and bring back a turtle. Weird, huh? Who would have thought that starting up the lawn mower was the international dog signal for "Go get a turtle,"? But, apparently, it was, at least, for Gus.

We had a guinea pig named Peter, who was a female. (Don't ask.) Peter loved to graze on the grass in the front yard, when we'd take her out on a nice day, but every once in a while, she'd make a break for the bushes that were up close to the wall of the house. When she did that, she was really hard to recapture. Gus would lie outside watching her. Herding her. Keeping her out of trouble, away from those bushes, but also keeping her from leaving the yard. Must. Guard. Perimeter. really was his life's calling. One day, and one day only, Gus left Peter in the yard and ran up in the street two houses away to bark and growl at another dog, a dog with whom he was normally friendly. It took us a few minutes to realize that he was warning Shadow to stay away from our yard, and our guinea pig. That herding instinct is strong, and if you don't have a flock of sheep to shepherd, I guess you have to make do with a guinea pig, if you're a German Shepherd.

We had Gus from the time that I turned six, until the time that I was 19. Thirteen years is a very long life span for a German Shepherd. I had started school in a state that was a 24 hour drive away from where my parents lived, away from Gus, when I got the news that my folks had to have him put to sleep. You might as well have told me I had lost a sibling. I cried and cried and cried, like a baby. Never got to say goodbye to the old feller.

He was the very best dog I ever had: he set the bar impossibly high for all the dogs who ever followed him. There will never be another like my noble Gus.

Gentleman Gus, my Mama used to call him.

If ever a dog went to heaven, Gus did. And if Gus isn't in heaven, I'm just not sure how good heaven could possibly be.

P.S. I did this post in response to a writing prompt given to me by Mama Kat. For more great posts like this one - but probably even better! - you can click on this link:

Lemon and Blueberry Frozen Yogurt

2012-01-18T12:50:00.002-06:00

Lemon and Blueberry Frozen Yogurt.

January may seem like an odd month to be posting frozen ice cream, frozen yogurt or blueberry recipes, but if you follow my blog, you know that I was given the cookbook "Jeni's Splendid Ice Creams At Home" for Christmas, and that I'm having fun utilizing my new Cuisinart Ice Cream Maker,.

So let's just say that these berries were so cold they turned blue, and that you'll love so much, you won't care what month it is. In fact, it can make ANY TIME of the year reminiscent of the warm days of good old summertime.

The lemony lusciousness of this stuff reminded me of a favorite cookie that I make: my Lovely Lemon Bars. (I should post that recipe here some day, shouldn't I?) The zest adds a powerful zing to the sweet frozen custard. And the sweetness of the blueberries? Think of them as one of the more delicious antioxidant flavor-bombs on the planet. Thank You, God, for blueberries.

Before I give you the recipe, here's what I learned from my experience of making this WONDERFULLY smooth, creamy, sweet-yet-tart and tangy bowl of YOWIE-KAZOWIE FLAVOR!!! (Such yumminess!!! Really!!!)

WHAT I LEARNED:

It requires a teeny bit of prep work, so you'll need to start it on the morning of the day you want to eat it by draining your yogurt. Jeni's recipe says to use cheesecloth to drain it, but I didn't have any. But what I DID have was the knowledge that when you need to drain liquid off of yogurt, to make it thicker, you can substitute a paper coffee filter (the type that fits into a basket-style coffee brewer was what I used) and use that in place of cheese cloth. When you measure out your drained yogurt, (you'll need 1 1/4 c. of drained yogurt) there will be leftover drained yogurt. Mine is in the fridge, and there MAY be enough to make another batch of frozen yogurt, but I haven't measured it or tried to do that, yet.)

Another thing you'll want to do in advance, (that I didn't), is to make your blueberry syrup, so that it has time to chill before you use it. I made it while the frozen yogurt custard was stirring in the machine, so it was still warm, and I had to stick it in the freezer to get it to cool down, so that I could layer it in the container that I use to store the ice cream in my freezer for its final chill.

And finally, you should also make your lemon syrup in advance, so that it has time to cool down as well.

When you peel the zest off the lemon, make the pieces as big as you can so that they're easy to pick out of the custard.

When you make your lemon syrup, you only need the 3 T.of sugar that the Lemon Syrup recipe calls for, and not the 2/3 c. that I saw while hurriedly referring to the frozen yogurt base recipe, rather than the lemon syrup recipe. So, my lemon syrup probably had an extra half cup or so of sugar in it. Oops!!! Turned out great, anyway! :-D

This time, I made absolutely sure that my cream cheese was completely softened to room temperature, and well whisked, and I had no cream cheese lumps in my ice cream, so be sure that your cream cheese is perfectly softened!

I think that just about covers all of my mistakes/learning experiences. :-D

So, here's Jeni's recipe for

Lemon and Blueberry Frozen Yogurt

Ingredients:

Frozen Yogurt Base:

1 quart plain low-fat yogurt

1 1/2 c. whole milk

2 T. cornstarch

2 oz. (4 T.) cream cheese, softened

1/2 c. heavy cream

2/3 c. sugar

1/4 c. light corn syrup

zest from one of the lemons used for the lemon syrup

Lemon Syrup:

2 to 3 lemons (I used 2, but they were large)

3 T. sugar

Blueberry Sauce:

1 1/2 c. blueberries

3/4 c/ sugar

ADVANCED PREP:

For the frozen yogurt base:

Fit a sieve over a bowl and line it with two layers of cheesecloth (or do what I did and use a paper coffee filter). Pour the yogurt into the sieve, cover with plastic wrap, and refrigerate for 6 to 8 hours to drain. Discard the liquid, and measure out 1 1/4 c. of the drained yogurt; set aside.

PREP:

For the lemon syrup:

Using a vegetable peeler, remove the zest in large strips from 1 lemon.; reserve for the frozen yogurt. Leave the lemon zest in large strips so it's easier to strain out later). Juice enough of the lemons to make 1/2 c. of juice.

Combine the lemon juice and sugar in a small saucepan and bring to a boil over medium-high heat, stirring to dissolve the sugar. Remove from the heat and let cool.

For the blueberry sauce:

Mix the blueberries and sugar in a small saucepan and bring to a boil over medium heat. Reduce the heat and simmer, stirring occasionally, until the berries are tender and the sauce is thickened, about 8 minutes. Remove from the heat and let cool, then refrigerate until cold before using.

For the frozen yogurt base:

Mix about 2 T. of the milk with the cornstarch in a small bowl to make a smooth slurry.

Whisk the cream cheese in a medium bowl until smooth

Fill a large bowl with ice and water.

COOK:

Combine the remaining mil, the cream, sugar, corn syrup, and lemon zest in a 4 qt. saucepan, bring to a rolling boil over medium-high heat, and boil for 4 minutes. Remove from the heat and gradually whisk in the cornstarch slurry.

Bring the mixture back to a boil over medium-high heat and collk, stirring with a heatproof spatula, until slightly thickened, about 1 minute. Remove from the heat.

CHILL:

Gradually whisk the hot milk mixture intot the cream cheese until smooth.

Pour the mixture into a 1-gallon Ziploc freezer bag and submerge the sealed bag in the ice bath. Let stand, adding more ice as necessary, until cold, about 30 minutes.

FREEZE:

Remove the zest from the yogurt base. Pour into the frozen canister and spin until thick and creamy

Pack the frozen yogurt into a storage container, about 1/3 at a time, alternating it with layers of blueberry sauce. Do not mix. End with final layer of sauce. (Store any leftover blueberry sauce in your fridge, to drizzle over top of frozen yogurt). Cover frozen yogurt with parchment paper pressed directly against the surface, and seal with an airtight lid. Freeze in the coldest part of your freezer until firm, at least 4 hours.

What's your favorite flavor of frozen yogurt?

If you like this recipe, please, feel free to share it on Facebook or Twitter, or Stumble it, or use my yummy looking photos on Pinterest.

Cajun Chicken Alfredo

2012-01-16T08:26:00.000-06:00

Cajun Chicken Alfredo on Fettucine

A few months ago on the Food Network, I started watching a show that featured chefs making their favorite, sure thing/go-to recipes, called The Best Thing I Ever Made. (With a title like that, who could resist, right? ) Guy Fieri . host of several Food Network shows (like Diners, Drive Ins and Dives, and Guy's Big Bites) started his career in food as the owner of a restaurant called "Johnny Garlic's". With its success, he then added many more restaurants to his stable. He credits the dish I'm about to share with you as being the dish that not only caused ALL his restaurants to stay in business, but that also helped him pass his exam to get out of culinary school, when he was training for his career. With such high praise, I was eager to try Guy's Cajun Chicken Alfredo.

Now any recipe with an Alfredo sauce is going to be laden with fat, and, as we know, fat = flavor. But really, I thought I could get a lot of flavor with a lot less fat, so if you want Guy's full fat version, click the link above. I came very close to following his recipe exactly, but I cut the fat by using half and half rather than cream in the sauce. (Cream is 36% fat, while half and half is anywhere from 10% -18% fat, depending on the half and half you buy.) Even when using half and half, this is no diet dish, but I felt better about that small savings. To compensate for the loss of fat in my version, I increased my cooking time of the sauce, to allow the sauce to further reduce, and thicken up.

I wanted to tell you about another change in the recipe that I made due to my own personal preference. You can buy jars of marinated in oil sun-dried tomatoes, which is what Guy's original recipe calls for, and they have a brighter red color than the variety that I used, but frankly, their taste tends to be more sour and bitter. I prefer to buy Frieda's sun-dried tomatoes that come in a plastic/paper packet and are hanging from a rod in our local grocery store's produce section, and here's my reason. When I buy dried sun-dried tomatoes, and then hydrate them myself by soaking them in boiling water for 5 minutes before draining and chopping them, I find their flavor to be much sweeter, deeper, and richer. There may be less color in my dish, but the color gets covered up by the Alfredo Sauce, anyway. If you want a bit more color in your dish (and I will next time) sprinkle on a few halved or quartered grape tomatoes for color, after you have plated your pasta.

I made my own blackening rub by following Guy's recipe, but frankly, when I was done stirring it up, I found a jar of "Cajun Seasoning" in the back of my spice cabinet, and did a blind "spice sniff test" with my son and me, and discovered that both he and I preferred the aroma of the Luzianne Cajun Seasoning I already had on hand. (But since I'd already mixed up this fresh batch of spices, that's what I used.) So, if you happen to have a jar of that spice blend, or Paul Prudhomme's blackening spice mix, you can definitely save yourself several minutes of digging through your spice cabinet, and use what you have. There is one advantage to making your own blend, which is that you control the amount of cayenne (read: HEAT) that you put in your own blackening spice. At my house, we are slightly weenie-like in our ability to tolerate heat, so rather than putting in a full teaspoon of cayenne, which is what Guy's recipe called for, I only added 1/4 of a teaspoon. You should adjust this recipe to your family's preference for heat/spiciness. ALSO: Guy called for dredging the chicken breasts in the spice, but I sprinkled the breasts generously with the spice mix. This gave me a lighter coating of spices, which was what I wanted. Didn't want TOO much salt: I'm not that wild about the gritty coating of acrid burnt spices that "blackening" sometimes produces.

Would I make this again? It was absolutely scrumptious, the kids were CRAZY about it, and it was pretty easy to do, so, yes, I would. I'd be more likely to make it when my husband is out of town, though, because, let's face it, it's not exactly a heart healthy recipe. My husband is not going to be happy to read that, and will probably remind me how much weight he has lost and how hard he is exercising these days to keep his blood vessels nice and unclogged. (You're the best, Babe. If it's all the same to you, I'd prefer to keep you alive for a long, long time.)

Without any further delay, here is MY version of Guy Fieri's Cajun Chicken Alfredo: DELICIOUS!

Ingredients:

Kosher salt
4 boneless, skinless chicken breast halves
Blackening spice: recipe follows
2 T. olive oil
3 T. minced garlic
1/4 c. dry white wine
3 c. half and half
1 c. roughly chopped, re-hydrated sun-dried tomatoes

1 lb. fettucine

3/4 c. grated Parmesan
1 t. fine sea salt
1 t. freshly ground black pepper
1/2 c. thinly sliced green onion, for garnish

Directions:

Preheat the oven to 350º. Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. Heat a large cast-iron skillet over very high heat.

Sprinkle the chicken breasts with the Blackening Spice Rub (recipe follows). Place the chicken in the hot skillet, and blacken both sides of the chicken, about 3 minutes per side.

Transfer the chicken to a baking sheet and place in the oven until the internal temperature of the chicken reaches 165º on an instant read thermometer, about 10 minutes.

Remove from the oven and slice the chicken into strips on the bias.

In a large skillet, over medium heat, heat the olive oil. Add the garlic and lightly brown it, about a minute. Stir in the wine. Pour in the half and half and bring to a simmer. Cook until the sauce is reduced by half. Add the sun-dried tomatoes and chicken slices.

Meanwhile, cook the fettucine al dente, according to the package instructions and drain.

When the cream sauce is the desired consistency, stir in 1/2 c. of the Parmesan, the sea salt, pepper and pasta.

To serve, toss the pasta with the cream sauce and serve. Garnish with the green onions and the remaining 1/4 c. Parmesan. (Some chopped grape tomatoes would add more color, if you like.)

Blackening Spice Rub:

1 1/2 t. garlic powder
1 T. freshly cracked black pepper
1/2 T. salt
2 t. ground cumin
1 t. onion powder
1/4 t. cayenne pepper
1 t. Italian seasoning
1 t. smoked paprika
1/2 t. chili powder

Combine the spices in a small bowl, and store the leftovers in an airtight container.

If you were to make this dish, what are your preferences in regard to heat/spiciness?

Dude. I'm Blogging From My iPad.

2012-01-14T09:52:00.001-06:00

I've never blogged from a mobile device before, but since travel looms in my future, I'm going to give this a go.

Here's what morning in the Boonies looks like today. I froze my toes to take this picture, but it's all for the love of you.

Posted from my iPad using BlogPress

Location:the Boonies

Chicken Tikka Masala

2012-01-12T13:23:00.000-06:00

Chicken Tikka YumYumEat'EmUp Masala

I know next to nothing about Indian food. And technically, from what I've read, Chicken Tikka Masala is more of a restaurant dish from Great Britain (which of course has a large number of Indian restaurants) than it is an authentic Indian dish. (But that's kind of true for spaghetti and meat sauce, that it's not authentically Italian, but more an American invented restaurant dish, from what Alton Brown tells me.)

Anyhow, I tried this recipe from Cook's Illustrated, because I saw it on TV (America's Test Kitchen), and wow, do I love this dish. We usually have it once a month or so in the fall and winter, when I'm craving warm, fragrant food. Everyone in the family loves this one!

If you've never heard of/tried a recipe that uses garam masala before, PLEASE, do not give up before hearing me out. I am going to walk you through the process so that you won't even have to buy any garam masala if you don't want to: you can make your own!

Let me explain!

Chicken Tikka means chunks of chicken that have been marinated in spices and yogurt. (Tikka actually means a kebab, although this recipe calls for broiling whole chicken breasts, not kebab sized chunks.)

Masala is a mixture of ground spices that are used in North Indian cuisine. They are actually more pungent than hot. These spices are heated in oil, and used in a sauce that usually involves tomatoes and cream.

Garam, (which in Hindi means "hot") is the first word in the name of a spice blend that is called Garam Masala. This is an ingredient you will see used in this recipe. You can buy it already prepared, or, I will give you a recipe for a blend of spices that you likely have in your cabinet, so you don't have to go looking for an ingredient that your grocery store MAY not carry.

I have made this dish both ways: with my own homemade blend, and with a blend I purchased.
I have used the spice blend recipe I'll give you here.
And I have made it with some garam masala that I purchased (I bought the small jar, because spices lose their pungency in 6 months) from Penzey's,. I visited one of their stores on my trip to the Richmond area to see my friend Anne.

Honestly, I preferred the Penzey's blend, I think, just a bit. But it was only because they had a few ingredients that I did not have in mine.

Here is the Cooks Illustrated recipe for:

Make Your Own Garam Masala

2 t. coriander
1/2 t. black pepper
1/4 t. cinnamon
1/4 t. cardamom

Here is the ingredient list, in order of quantity of each spice, of Penzey's Punjabi Style Garam Masala.

coriander
black pepper
cardamom
cinnamon
chamushka
caraway
cloves
ginger
nutmeg

(Notice that the first four ingredients are the same. I think those extra ingredients were worth purchasing it, so when I run out, I'll probably re-purchase from Penzey's. But the other "Make Your Own" is perfectly acceptable.)

The recipe itself is a bit involved, but here are the basics that you'll need to know.

1. You rub/coat the chicken breasts in salt and spices and put them in the fridge to absorb those flavors.
2. You make the sauce.
3. While the sauce is simmering, you dip the spiced chicken into a protective coating of a yogurt/oil mixture, and then broil it on a rack placed over a foil-lined rimmed baking sheet.
4. You cut up the broiled chicken into bite sized chunks, sprinkle on some cilantro, and serve over Basmati rice. (or at least, that's what I do).

So, that's the general idea.

Here's the recipe:

Chicken Tikka

1/2 teaspoon ground cumin

1/2 teaspoon ground coriander

1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper

1 teaspoon salt

2 pounds boneless, skinless chicken breasts , trimmed of fat

1 cup plain, whole milk yogurt (see note above)

2 tablespoons vegetable oil

2 medium garlic cloves , minced or pressed through a garlic press (about 2 teaspoons)

1 tablespoon grated fresh ginger

Masala Sauce

3 tablespoons vegetable oil

1 medium onion , diced fine (about 1 1/4 cups)

2 medium garlic cloves , minced or pressed through a garlic press (about 2 teaspoons)

2 teaspoons grated fresh ginger

1 fresh serrano chile , ribs and seeds removed, flesh minced (see note above)

1 tablespoon tomato paste

1 tablespoon garam masala (see recipe for spice blend above; I prefer Penzey's blend.)

1 (28 ounce) can crushed tomatoes

2 teaspoons sugar

1/2 teaspoon table salt

2/3 cup heavy cream

1/4 cup chopped fresh cilantro leaves

Instructions

FOR THE CHICKEN: Combine cumin, coriander, cayenne, and salt in small bowl. Sprinkle both sides of chicken with spice mixture, pressing gently so mixture adheres. Place chicken on plate, cover with plastic wrap, and refrigerate for 30 to 60 minutes. In large bowl, whisk together yogurt, oil, garlic, and ginger; set aside.
FOR THE SAUCE: Heat oil in large Dutch oven over medium heat until shimmering. Add onion and cook, stirring frequently, until light golden, 8 to 10 minutes. Add garlic, ginger, chile, tomato paste, and garam masala; cook, stirring frequently, until fragrant, about 3 minutes. Add crushed tomatoes, sugar, and salt; bring to boil. Reduce heat to medium-low, cover, and simmer for 15 minutes, stirring occasionally. Stir in cream and return to simmer. Remove pan from heat and cover to keep warm.
While sauce simmers, adjust oven rack to upper-middle position (about 6 inches from heating element) and heat broiler. Using tongs, dip chicken into yogurt mixture (chicken should be coated with thick layer of yogurt) and arrange on wire rack set in foil-lined rimmed baking sheet or broiler pan. Discard excess yogurt mixture. Broil chicken until thickest parts register 160 degrees on instant-read thermometer and exterior is lightly charred in spots, 10 to 18 minutes, flipping chicken halfway through cooking.
Let chicken rest 5 minutes, then cut into 1-inch chunks and stir into warm sauce (do not simmer chicken in sauce). Stir in cilantro, adjust seasoning with salt, and serve.

Do you love Indian food?

What Indian food do you recommend I try next?

P.S. Don't forget: you can pin this on Pinterest if you want to try it later!

There ARE no small parts!!!

2012-01-11T16:43:00.000-06:00

Remember that old saw?

There ARE no small parts....Only SMALL ACTORS!!!

My kids were in Lifesong Theatre Group's smashingly spectacular production of Beauty and the Beast.

Unfortunately for their Mama, they had teeny weeny parts. And you know how we Moms always feel our kids ought to be front and center on stage!

But, my kids took their teeny weeny parts, (as did every single stellar cast member of this awesome musical event) and went for the gusto!

This production of Beauty and the Beast was the most joyous experience! In the large musical numbers, the kids just about blew the roof off the place. My fairly-well-educated-due-to-being-married-to-a-music-pro ear was not only non-offended, and I'd go so far as to say that for the most part, the vocal performances were excellent. The kids sang like really loud, fun loving angels. (Which is bound to be the best kind of angel there is.)

My son played the Bookseller, who helped Belle procure the book she was longing to read.

On the right, you'll see my son, the Bookseller.

And later on, during the number that garnered the entire cast a standing ovation, "Be Our Guest", he honed his acting skills by taking on the role of cutlery, where he had the opportunity to prove that he while he may not be the sharpest knife in the drawer, he's still knows how to cut up. (There was some pretty cute silverware up there, I must say!)

No one's gloomy or complaining when the flatware's entertaining.

And then, there was my daughter, who I am told is quite a dish!

"It's a treat for any diner. Don't believe me? Ask the china!"

The lyrics from the final chorus, in case you don't remember them:

Be our guest! Be our guest!
Our command is your request
It's been years since we've had anybody here
And we're obsessed
With your meal, with your ease
Yes, indeed, we aim to please
While the candlelight's still glowing
Let us help you, We'll keep going
Course by course, one by one
'Til you shout, "Enough! I'm done!"
Then we'll sing you off to sleep as you digest
Tonight you'll prop your feet up
But for now, let's eat up
Be our guest!
Be our guest!
Be our guest!
Please, be our guest!

Let me tell you, my friends Alice Griffith and Jamie Kearney, who put together this excellent production WERE kind of obsessed with the pleasure of the audience, as was the entire, fabulously talented cast. And ladies and gents, in my opinion, you FAR exceeded your goal. So, hat's off to you!!!

I'll be your guest ANY old time.

Thanks for the wonderful play!!!

And thanks for the memories!!!

New Recipes Tab!

2012-01-09T14:00:00.000-06:00

Best pasta ever.

I've been doing a little blog cleaning up/sprucing up, so I thought I'd give you a heads up on a new feature that I've added for you. Notice at the top of the page the page tabs that say:"Home", "About" and "Contact". Today I added a brand new tab entitled Recipes. Click on it, and you can find any recipe I've posted here on this blog, all categorized by types of recipes. It took several hours of work to find all those links, but I think I've found nearly all my recipe posts, and I hope this tab makes it easier for you to navigate my blog quickly, to find the recipe that you'd like to cook!

Did you find any recipes up there you didn't realize I had posted?

See anything that you really WANT to try? I'd love to hear from you!

Heavenly Vanilla Bean Ice Cream

2012-01-05T13:40:00.000-06:00

Vanilla Bean Ice Creammmmm.....

Resolutions, schmesolutions. You've been working out at the gym, right? Moving those muscles of yours? Taking those January walks?

All of life is about balance.

You deserve a little treat at the end of the week. Am I right?

Of course, right!

Have I got some yumminess for you!

My dear friend gave me a cookbook for Christmas called "Jeni's Splendid Ice Creams At Home" written by Jeni Britton Bauer.

And quite coincidentally, I won a Cuisinart Two Bowl Ice Cream Maker from one of my favorite food blogs, Bunkycooks, right before Christmas.

The combination of those two factors alone should have you anticipating many ice cream posts in days to come. Who cares that it's January?

I have hot fudge!!!

And not just any hot fudge!

It's homemade lusciousness that you can make yourself, and I'm pretty sure its alchemy packs a potent love potion, besides!

So far, my hubby and I have tried two of Jeni's recipes. The first was Ugandan Vanilla Bean Ice Cream (and honestly, I'm pretty sure my vanilla beans were NOT Ugandan. They came to me from Madagascar, via Marx Foods and a giveaway that I won on another one of my favorite food blogs, 30A Eats.) But fragrant and flavorful, they were, smelling of flowers, and honey, and leather, and all things vanilla-y.

The second of Jeni's recipes that we tried was Black Coffee Ice Cream. We enjoyed it very much, but not as much as the simple but exquisite vanilla.

Honestly, we've had one small problem with each of Jeni's two recipes that we've tried. Many of her recipes call for cream cheese as an ingredient. You heat the milk, cream, sweeteners and vanilla, and then whisk it into the softened cream cheese. We followed her procedure exactly, as stated in the cookbook, but with each recipe, we ended up with tiny lumps of cream cheese in the ice cream. What we're thinking is that perhaps we didn't let the cream cheese completely come to room temperature before we started cooking, and that perhaps it was too cold to melt completely. So, I'll keep you updated on future efforts.

In the meantime, here's my favorite recipe so far:

Ugandan Vanilla Bean Ice Cream

Makes about 1 quart

2 c. whole milk
1 T.plus 1 t. cornstarch
1 1/2 oz. (3 T.) cream cheese, softened (Try bringing it completely to room temperature, like I didn't)
1/8 t. fine sea salt
1 1/4 c. heavy cream
2 T. light corn syrup
1 vanilla bean, split, sides scraped out, seeds and beans removed

PREP: Mix about 2 T. of the milk with the cornstarch in a small bowl to make a smooth slurry. Fill a large bowl with ice and water.

COOK: Combine the remaining milk, the cream, sugar, corn syrup, and vanilla seeds and bean in a 4 qt. saucepan, bring to a rolling boil over medium-high heat, and boil for 4 minutes. Remove from the heat and gradually whisk in the cornstarch slurry. Bring the mixture back to a rolling boil over medium-high heat and cook, stirring with a heatproof spatula, until slightly thickened, about 1 minute. Remove from the heat.

CHILL: Gradually whisk the hot milk mixture into the cream cheese until smooth. Pour the mixture into a 1 gallon Ziploc freezer bag and submerge the sealed bag in the ice bath. Let stand, adding more ice as necessary, until cold, about 30 minutes.

FREEZE: Remove the vanilla bean. Pour the ice cream base into the frozen canister and spin until thick and creamy. Pack the ice cream into a storage container ,, press a sheet of parchment directly against the surface and seal with an airtight lid. Freeze in the coldest part of our freezer until firm, at least 4 hours.

You scream, I scream, We ALL scream: "Git in mah belly!!!"

Isn't this a gorgeous photo my dear husband took? He's a wizard. And now, I'm craving MORE ice cream! And especially, more hot fudge sauce!!!

If you like the look of this yumminess, feel free to share it on Pinterest, or to Stumble it, or share it on Facebook or Twitter.

I think this ice cream would be awesome with some chopped Reese's chunks thrown in at the end. Jeni recommends adding any chunks (candy, nuts, whatever you want to try) in layers as you're pouring the ice cream from the ice cream maker into the container where you'll store it in the freezer.

What would you add to it?

Top Ten Ways To Know You're Really A Mom

2011-12-21T22:18:00.000-06:00

Bless her heart: she was really a Mom, and glad about it, too.

Mama Kat asked me to write a post telling how I knew I was really a Mom.

I thought of several incidents - isolated stories that I could tell, where I knew, for sure, that I was really and truly somebody's mom, but none taken by itself seemed to encapsulate the whole enchilada, if you know what I mean.

How do you know you're REALLY a mom?

I decided to generate my own list of the

Top Ten Ways to Know You're Really A Mom.

(Some, you may relate to. Some, not so much. But these are some of the ways that I knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that I was somebody's mama.)

10. When my heart melted at my very first glimpse of them, there, in the delivery room, and they turned their very sober eyes to find the voice they'd been listening to for the last nine months.

9. When I looked at my haggard post-partum reflection in the mirror a day or two after I got home from the hospital, after having given birth to my first child, and realized that I would never, ever, truly again have a single night of sleep where I wasn't responsible/concerned in regard to the health and well-being of another human being. Oy. Happy moment? Not so much.

8. When the knowledge that one of the kids was even a teeny bit sick. made me sick at heart.

7. When tears sprang to my eyes, and my heart felt like it would blow up, from just watching their sweet, innocent faces, slumbering peacefully in their crib. Really, is there any other thing as poignant and pure as a freshly bathed, sweet smelling, sleeping babe?

6. When the things that brought them joy became my delight, even if previously, I never once thought about the excellence of plastic toy guns, or, a few years later, the praiseworthiness of indie rock.

5. When the waiting-on-tiptoes-anticipation of their first word, began to turn into "Why did I EVER teach him/her to talk?". (Same concept also applies to mobility: "Why did I EVER teach him/her to walk?")

4. When I realized that I would gladly take any problem of theirs and make it my own, instead.

3. When I figured out that taking their problems and making them my own was no longer in their best interests, and when I figured out that the best and hardest thing for me to do was to allow them to suffer the pain of the consequences of their own choices. (If you haven't hit this hurdle yet: don't worry. It's coming. You'll get there. :-) )

2. When kisses and hugs really became the Christmas gift that I valued and desired the most: and that ain't just whistlin' Dixie.

1. When I realized that the successful, desired outcome of being a good mom is to have completely worked myself OUT of a job. Job Security??? I think NOT!

WHAT WAS I THINKING SIGNING UP FOR THIS GIG IN THE FIRST PLACE???

How did you know YOU were really a Mom?

This post was prompted by a writing prompt that I picked up over at Mama Kat's Writer's Workshop. You can read lots more great posts that are far better than this one over at her blog.

Thanks, Mama Kat, for helping me remember what an idiot I am. ;-D

(And how I'd make the same, stupid choice all over again if given the chance.)

All is Calm, All is Bright....Or IS IT???

2011-12-20T22:23:00.006-06:00

A few years ago, my husband's dear aunt was downsizing, and she decided to give some of her treasures to us, since we had more room in our home than she would have in the apartment into which she was moving. So she gave us her lovely little porcelain Christmas village. Near that time, my girlfriend gave me an adorable set of snowmen that she picked up somewhere as a gift for me.

It seemed only right that when we took the snowmen out of their box, that they would enjoy moving into our aunt's little Bavarian Christmas village.

An idyllic little moment in Christmas village.

See the neighborhood children (to the left), jumping rope in the snow? They LIKE the happy snowmen.

Yes, indeed. All is calm...all is bright....

OR IS IT???

Depends on whether or not my daughter has been having any of her little conversations with the snowmen again.

(cue Psycho music)

Buildings destroyed.

Church windows menacingly peered into.

IS NOTHING SACRED???

Trees are toppled as sleigh-pulling horses flee in terror, and innocent passengers are whisked off to their doom.

Those little children who used to jump rope?
Now they lie upturned and trampled in the snow, eyes staring vacantly into the cold winter night.

All is calm...all is bright???

I think not.

Sleep in heavenly peace....if you can.

P. S. If you liked this terrible tale of terror, share it on Facebook or Stumble it! There are some tools to help you do that, just below.

P.P.S. This post was selected by Hilary of The Smitten Image as Post of the Week. She pronounced it both "Good and Funny". Thanks for the love, Hilary!

Caramel Cake: Heaven on a Plate

2011-12-18T22:29:00.000-06:00

Caramel Cake: Heaven on a Plate

In the words of my dear friend Martha, who happens to be an Episcopal priest, "Could a mere mortal make such a thing?"

In the words of Barak Obama:

Image from here.

"Yes! You Can!"

You CAN make a Caramel Cake, that is, indeed, YOU can make Heaven on a Plate.

Will it be easy? Well..., it's not rocket science, but it will take a bit of time.

Is it doable for the average cook? Without doubt.

My Mama used to make a yellow cake with caramel frosting almost every Saturday night, to be served after Sunday afternoon lunch, after the roast chicken, or roast beef (and mashed potatoes, and corn and peas or green beans). I had no idea that I was receiving riches. I thought it was what was NORMAL: what everybody's Mama did.

I guess we all grow up thinking that we grow up with is what's normal.

But one of the bigger mistakes I made was never asking my Mom to teach me how to make it.

And I've been through a bunch of recipes, searching for the RIGHT recipe to duplicate the greatness that my Mama made on a weekly basis.

None of my siblings are going to be happy with me if they read this, but, I'm a daredevil: I think I have come up with a couple of recipes that SURPASS my Mama's recipes.

~GASP~

SACRILEGE!!!

But it's true.

The cake recipe comes from Cooks Illustrated, and the icing recipe comes from The Southern Living Cookbook.

I can show you a picture from my last two efforts. They both suffer from the Goldilocks syndrome: with the former effort, I let the icing get TOO HARD. I stirred it a little too long before I spread it. But it was still delicious.

This week, on my second more recent effort, I spread the icing when it was TOO SOFT. I didn't beat it long enough. But it was even more delicious.

I think if I had followed the stirring directions more precisely, it would have been JUST RIGHT, but I was a little gun shy from the first effort, so I engaged in PREMATURE FROSTING.

If you've ever done that, you know how embarrassing that can be.:-D

Don't let it get to you. Practice makes perfect, and the joy is in the journey, if you know what I mean.

And honest to gosh, it was the best stinkin' caramel cake I have ever had. Ever! My Mama would have even agreed. I know she was beaming down on me from heaven, doing a little: "That's my girl" nudge-nudge to one of the angels.

Without further ado, here are the recipes:

First, from Cooks Illustrated, is their recipe for Fluffy Yellow Cake. My only complaint is that I personally find the taste of cake flour to have a teeny tiny aftertaste that my taste buds pick up on, that I'm not wild about. However, overall, the flavor of the cake was excellent, and the moistness and texture were sublime. I would make this yellow cake recipe over and over. It will now be my standard for yellow cake recipes. No need to search for a better one. (And I've tried many, searching for the perfect yellow cake NOT from a box.)

Fluffy Yellow Cake

All ingredients (the butter, the buttermilk, and the eggs) should be brought to room temperature.

I also start out by making my own buttermilk, because I never buy buttermilk. Add 1 T. of white vinegar to 1 c. milk, and in 5 minutes time, the milk will have soured, and you will have buttermilk.

When you grease, flour and line the two cake pans, the recipe advises you to use parchment paper . My Mom used circles that she had me cut from brown paper grocery bags to line her cake pans, and why not? It saves money on buying parchment paper.

Ingredients:

2 1/2 c. cake flour, (plus extra for dusting pans)
1 1/4 t. baking powder
1/4 t. baking soda
3/4 t. table salt
1 3/4 c. sugar
10 T. butter, melted and cooled slightly
1 c. buttermilk
3 T. vegetable oil
2 t. vanilla extract
6 large egg yolks, room temperature
3 large egg whites, room temperature

Instructions:

Adjust oven rack to middle position and heat oven to 350º. Grease 2 9" cake pans. Dust pans with flour, and knock out excess. Line bottoms with parchment paper.
Whisk flour, baking powder, baking soda, salt, and 1 1/2 c. sugar together in large bowl. In 4 c. liquid measuring cup or medium bowl, whisk together melted butter, buttermilk, oil, vanilla, and yolks.
In clean bowl of stand mixer fitted with whisk attachment, beat egg whites at medium-high speed until foamy, about 30 seconds. With machine running, gradually add remaining 1/4 c. sugar; continue to beat until stiff peaks just form, 30 to 60 seconds. Whites should hold peak, but mixture should appear moist. Transfer to bowl and set aside.
Add flour mixture to now-empty mixing bowl fitted with whisk attachment. With mixer running at low speed, gradually pour in butter mixture and mix until almost incorporated (a few streaks of dry flour will remain), about 15 seconds. Stop mixer and scrape whisk and sides of bowl. Return mixer to medium-low speed and beat unti smooth and fully incorporated, 10 to 15 seconds.
Using rubber spatula, stir 1/3 of whites into batter to lighten, then add remaining whites and gently fold into batter until no white streaks remain. Divide batter evenly between prepared cake pans. Lightly tap pans against couter 2 or 3 times to dislodge ay large air bubbles.
Bake until cake layers begin to pull away from sides of pans and toothpick inserted into center comes out clean, 20 to 22 minutes. Cool cakes in pans on wire rack for 10 minutes. Loosen cakes form sides of pans with small knife, then invert onto greased wire rack and peel off parchment. Invert cakes again and cool completely on rack, about 1 1/2 hours.

And now, for the caramel icing that makes this a caramel cake! This recipe comes from the Ultimate Southern Living Cookbook. There's an Amazon link to it in the sidebar on the upper right side of my margin.

You'll need a candy thermometer to make this. If you don't own one, now's the time to purchase one. They're cheap, and they're worth it.

I don't own a handheld mixer, so when it comes time to start mixing this icing, I VERY CAREFULLY pour the icing from the saucepan into my mixer's metal mixing bowl.

If you've never worked with boiling sugar before, it's like working with molten lava. A splat of a bubble onto your skin can leave a serious burn, so exercise great caution in making this. It only took me one experience with a caramel burn to figure this out. When stirring, I use my whisk that has the longest handle. I encourage you to do the same, whether you use a spoon or a whisk: you need a lot of distance between your hand and the steamy bubbling sugar.

I didn't have any evaporated milk, like the ingredients of this recipe call for, so I substituted Half & Half. I can hear you now: "Wait: that's got more fat!"

Well, in case you haven't figured this out yet, the recipe for the frosting calls for two cups of butter.

And 2 cups of butter is an ENTIRE POUND OF BUTTER!!!!

~swoon~

I do not live on a steady diet of this. If I did, I'd look like the Goodyear Blimp at this point in my life. But, hey, once a year isn't going to do you in. Don't ask me how I survived my childhood, and remained thin as a young adult. It flies in the face of conventional wisdom. But I have a feeling its genetics.

Caramel Frosting

Ingredients:

4 c. sugar

2 c. butter

2 c. evaporated milk

2 t. vanilla extract

Combine sugar, butter, and milk (or cream!) in a 4 quart saucepan or small Dutch oven; bring to a boil over medium heat. Cover and cook 2 to 3 minutes. (Careful here: at this point, my sugar boiled over. If it starts rattling the lid like it might boil over, take the lid off, fast. You're looking for a nice big boil, but you don't want it to spill all over your stovetop.) Uncover and cook, stirring constantly, gently at first, until mixture reaches 222º, and then stirring more vigorously to avoid scorching, until mixture reaches 234º, which is the soft ball stage. (This could take up to 40 minutes.) Remove from heat, and add vanilla (do not stir). Cool 10 minutes.

Beat mixture, in saucepan, at medium speed with an electric mixer 8 to 10 minutes, or until almost spreading consistency. (I didn't beat it quite this long the time my icing was a bit runny. But it was fabulous, anyway. Absolutely fabulous.)

If you like these recipes or images, please, feel free to share them on Facebook, Pinterest, StumbleUpon. or Twitter.

What recipe do you think of when you hear the words "Heaven on a Plate"?

(And thanks for that great line, friend Martha!!! :-D My heart goes out to you and your whole family at this time. I have no doubt that my Mom is serving your Dad a slice of caramel cake in heaven, long about now! XXX OOO!)

Joy to the World

2011-12-16T09:15:00.000-06:00

Joy to the world.

Really?

That's the sentiment I hear and read a lot on line these days, as the holidays approach, and people wrestle with the difficult realities of their own lives.

Where is joy, in the midst of the busyness, the stress, the disappointment, the pain, the worry, the fear, and, well, let's just go ahead and call it what it is: the evil that we see in this world?

Where is joy?

Joy isn't circumstantial.

We confuse joy with happiness.

And God knows, we'd all like a little more of that. It's the American way, after all, right? The pursuit of happiness?

There's nothing inherently wrong with happiness.

In fact, I'd like to put in my order right now for a big steaming plate of happiness. Pile it on, high, if you please!

For instance: our son got accepted to the college he longs to attend. Well, yay! We rejoice with him. We're thankful! Or, our daughter performs a lovely dance that her audience greatly appreciates. Again, yay! We're proud of her! We celebrate her achievement as a family.

But that's happiness: not joy. It's based on circumstances - very wonderful ones, but, circumstances.

And circumstances come, and they go. They constantly change.

When my son doesn't have the financial aid in place that he needs to attend the school of his dreams, is all our joy gone? When my daughter doesn't win the dance competition in which she was competing, what happens to joy?

When that "thing" that I dreamed of, wanted, longed for, prayed for, hoped for more than anything doesn't work out: where is my joy then?

Happiness is circumstantial.

Joy is not.

And that's where a lot of us get tripped up in our Christian walk.

We still believe somewhere deep inside that if God were good, he'd want us to be happy. He'd want things to work out well for us, for us to get the circumstances that we want in our lives. And if we let that way of thinking direct us, God becomes, at that point, not much more than a genie in a bottle, or a lamp that we can rub, there to make US happy. And that, my friends, is a very pagan mindset.

When I read the chapter that contains the names of some of the greatest people in the Bible - faith's Heroes Hall of Fame, Hebrews chapter 11, what I discover there is that the greatest people of faith never received in this life the things they most longed for: the things that would have made them most "happy". (If ever anyone should have been "Teacher's Pet" or "God's favorite" in the Bible, it would have been these people, right?) Abraham was promised a multitude of descendants and a land for them, yet Abraham, in his life here on earth, had one son, and lived that life in a tent. He never got the city with foundations which the chapter tells us he longed for.

(In fact, if you read further in the chapter you discover that some of the greatest people of faith were tortured, jeered at, flogged, and put in prison. Where was God's concern for their personal circumstantial happiness, I ask you?)

Hebrews 11:13 says: "All these people were still living by faith when they died. They did not receive the things promised; they only saw them and welcomed them from a distance."

I have friends who are walking through the fire right now. Through the fire. I have a friend who is dying of cancer. I have another friend who is in limbo, waiting for his diagnosis, and things look scary. I have other friends whose children are desperately ill. Is there any greater torture than a mother who must witness her own precious child suffering, but be helpless to alleviate that suffering?

Where. Is. Joy?

Here are some verses for your consideration:

Isaiah prophesies in Isaiah 12:3 that joy will be a hallmark of the believer's life: "With joy you will draw water from the wells of salvation."

Where are these wells of salvation I'm supposed to be drawing from?

John 7: 37-38 "If anyone is thirsty, let him come to me and drink. Whoever believes in me, as the Scripture has said, streams of living water will flow from within him.

John 4:14 "Whoever drinks the water I give him will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give him will become in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life."

Jesus is teaching, here, that the well of salvation that we are to draw from will spring up from inside of us. That living water is the presence of the Holy Spirit, who has come to live in the heart of the believer.

In Psalm 16:11, the psalmist says: "You will make known to me the path of life; in your presence is fullness of joy."

Joy, my dear, dear friends, is not circumstantial. It is not found in the "Yay!" moments of our lives, as wonderful as those can be.

Joy is internal. Not external.

Joy comes from within: from the presence of the One who gave His life as an atoning sacrifice for our sins, that He might come to dwell inside of us. That He might cause to spring up inside of us a well of living water from which we might draw, and never be thirsty again. His Holy Spirit, bringing life to the full, fullness of joy in His presence, within us.

Joy comes from a sure and certain knowledge that we are accepted in the Beloved, and never alone, come what may.

Immanuel. God with us.

God in us.

Joy invaded Earth on that starry night, long ago. when the Son of God was laid as a baby into that manger.

And the angels could not keep quiet for the pure joy of it.

Joy to the world. Indeed.

And now, that joy is in us.

But, here's the thing: take the time to savor the water.
Take the time to acknowledge the Source.
Take the time to have joy in His presence, within you.

Take the time to give thanks for this unspeakable gift.
And while you're at it: give thanks for the many, many outpourings of grace that you receive, on a daily basis.

Thanks be to God.

Best Roast Chicken Recipe

2011-12-14T12:22:00.001-06:00

Nom, Nom, Nom.

This recipe is a hybrid of the roast chicken recipes of three great chefs: Julia Child, Jacques Pepin, and Colman Andrews. Fairly early in my marriage, I figured out that one of the most basic things a cook needs to be able to do right is to roast a chicken. It's simple. It's basic. But, it's telling, also. If you can roast a chicken right, then chances are good you can do other things well, too. So I set about researching the roast chicken, and went looking for the very best roast chicken recipes. I found a wonderful article in an old issue of Gourmet magazine where Julia Child and Jacque Pepin did a throwdown on roast chicken. I liked both their recipes, but neither one was perfect for me.

The favorite idea that I gathered from those efforts was that using my cast iron skillet gave me very nice results. So, I decided that idea was a keeper.

I also liked the idea of using vegetables as a rack for the chicken to roast on, allowing the vegetables to receive the drippings from the chicken as blessings from above, packed with flavor.

Then, I stumbled on a book by Colman Andrews, where he gives his wife's recipe for what she calls "Homecoming Chicken". She came up with a recipe that she could leave in the oven while she drove to the airport to pick him up on Friday nights. I liked a LOT about her recipe, especially the addition of a nice white wine, used for basting the chicken about halfway through the recipe.

Herbes de Provence, an ingredient I use in this recipe, I USED to have to purchase at Williams Sonoma. I now see it in regular grocery stores, in the spice aisle. (I still purchase mine at Williams Sonoma, anyway, because I like their blend.) If you want to make do with what you have in your pantry, it is an herb blend, and here's a recipe for making your own from Gofrance. (I have never tried making this myself, but I thought I'd do what I could for anyone who wanted to give it a go, but didn't want to buy a special ingredient. You could certainly omit the lavender, or whatever else you might not have on hand.

1 tsp dried thyme
1 tsp ground rosemary
1 tsp summer savory
1/2 tsp lavender (optional but traditional)
1 tsp marjoram
1 tsp dried basil
1/2 tsp dried sage
1/2 tsp dried oregano

When I make this recipe, my house is filled with an aroma that has been known to trigger salivary glands in the next county. And lest you think I exaggerate, my kids have left our house having eaten this for dinner to attend a Bible study with their Dad, where they have had kids follow them around sniffing them, saying, "Wow. You smell delicious. What did you have for dinner????"

So, here is my hybrid recipe, courtesy of Julia and Jacques and Colman, for Roasted Chicken, à la Susan in the Boonies.

Boonie Sooze's Roast Chicken

1 3-4 lb. roasting chicken
2 sprigs fresh rosemary
2 garlic cloves, minced
1/4 c. extra-virgin olive oil
1 T. Herbes de Provence
1 T. coarse salt
2 t. freshly ground black pepper
1/2 lemon
4 medium potatoes, cut into eighths
2 large carrots, cut into sticks 3" long and 1/2" thick
4 shallots, peeled and separated into cloves
1 c. dry, full bodied white wine

Preparation:

Pre-heat oven to 400º.
Place potatoes, carrots, and shallots in a large cast iron skillet. Toss with about a T. of olive oil, and some salt and pepper.

Place rosemary sprigs in cavity of chicken, and tie his/her little drumsticks together with some cotton kitchen twine.
Slide your fingers in between the the breast skin and the breasts, gently separating the two. Push minced garlic underneath skin. Rub surface of chicken with olive oil, then sprinkle with Herbes de Provence, salt and pepper. Squeeze lemon juice over top of chicken, and then insert lemon into cavity of chicken. Place chicken on top of vegetables and roast uncovered for 40 minutes. Remove chicken from oven and pour wine over top of chicken, roasting for about another half hour, or until meatiest part of chicken breast registers 160º.

The elegant roast chicken.

Did you notice my new Pinterest button? One of these days, I'll figure out how to use it.
How do you roast your chicken?

Two Christmas Cookie Recipes: Raspberry Shortbread and Chocolate Caramel Treasures

2011-12-12T12:23:00.002-06:00

Are you looking for a recipe or two for some wonderful Christmas cookies?

I won two different cookie contests in my small 'burg in the Boonies with these delicious recipes.
Chocolate Caramel Treasures and Raspberry Shortbread are my two prize winning recipes.

And if you're not looking to cook, the story of how I became the Cookie Contest Queen is hilarious enough to warrant a read. After all, it's always fun to see someone get his/her comeuppance, don't you think?

So, from Gourmet magazine, here's the recipe that I won my first contest with:

Chocolate Caramel Treasures

Chocolate Caramel Treasures

Chocolate Caramel Treasures

Ingredients

For the Cookie:

1 stick butter, softened
2/3 cup sugar
1 large egg yolk
2 tablespoons whole milk
1 teaspoon vanilla
1 cup all-purpose flour
1/3 cup Dutch-process unsweetened cocoa powder
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 large egg white, lightly beaten
1/2 cup finely chopped hazelnuts

Caramel Filling:
10 plain caramels, unwrapped
2 tablespoons heavy cream

Chocolate Drizzle:
3 ounces fine-quality semisweet or bittersweet chocolate (not unsweetened) finely chopped

Directions:

1. Beat together butter, sugar, yolk, milk, and vanilla with an electric mixer until blended well. Sift in flour, cocoa, and salt and beat on low speed until mixture forms a dough. Chill, wrapped in plastic wrap, until firm, at least 30 minutes.

2. Preheat oven to 350 F.

3. Roll scant tablespoons of dough into balls, then coat with egg white, letting excess drip off, and roll in nuts to coat. Arrange balls, as coated, 1 1/2 inches apart on greased baking sheets and press your thumb into center of balls to flatten, leaving a depression. Bake in batches in middle of oven until puffed slightly but centers are soft, 10 to 12 minutes. Remove from oven and immediately press centers of cookies again (we used handle end of a wooden spoon). Transfer to racks to cool.

Make filling while cookies cool

Heat caramels and cream in a small saucepan over moderately low heat, stirring occasionally, until melted and mixture is smooth. Spoon into centers of cookies and cool completely.

Make chocolate drizzle one hour before serving

Melt chocolate in a double boiler or a metal bowl set over a pan of barely simmering water, stirring until smooth. Cool to warm and pour into a heavy-duty sealable plastic bag. Seal bag and snip 1 corner to form a small hole. Drizzle chocolate over the cookies and let stand until set, about 30 minutes. Makes about 2 and a half dozen.

And the second prize winning recipe, which is actually my favorite of the two because it's easier to make, and makes more cookies, is from Southern Living. This recipe has more bang for your buck, so to speak.

I did not take this yummy looking picture, but this is just what these cookies look like. Image from here.

Raspberry Shortbread
Yield: 6 dozen
Ingredients

1 cup butter, softened
2/3 cup sugar
2 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1 (10-ounce) jar seedless raspberry jam, divided
1 1/2 cups powdered sugar
3 1/2 tablespoons water
1/2 teaspoon almond extract

Preparation

Beat butter and sugar at medium speed with an electric mixer until light and fluffy. Gradually add flour, beating at low speed until blended. Divide dough into 6 equal portions; roll each portion into a 12- x 1-inch strip. Place strips on lightly greased baking sheets.

Make a 1/2-inch-wide by 1/4-inch-deep indentation down center of each strip using the handle of a wooden spoon. Spoon half of jam evenly into indentations.

Bake at 350° for 15 minutes. Remove from oven; spoon remaining jam into indentations. Bake 5 more minutes or until lightly browned.

Whisk together powdered sugar, water, and extract; drizzle over warm shortbread. Cut each strip diagonally into 1-inch slices. Cool in pans on wire racks.

What's your favorite Christmas cookie?

Company's Coming and the Couch is Cruddy

2011-12-11T14:48:00.000-06:00

What you cannot see in this picture is my couch. Is it clean? Or is it cruddy?

I do not love to clean.

However, I also cannot tolerate true squalor. :-D

And I'm not financially in a position to do my bit to help our nation's economic recovery effort by hiring someone ELSE to do my cleaning.

These opposing needs that I have (not liking to clean, but hating squalor) cause me a bit of internal conflict and aggravation.

But...you know...

...that's why God gave me teenagers.

:-D

(Now, anyone who has ever been around MY teenagers knows that they create a whole LOT more mess than they clean up, but, for a moment, it sounded like a viable solution to my problem, didn't it?)

So, anyway, as a Mom, I WOULD be doing my kids a disservice if I didn't teach them how to clean, right?
And to learn to clean WELL, you need a lot of practice, right? Like, on a weekly basis, right?
Of course, right!
So...that's my story, and I'm stickin' with it. :-D

Cleaning tip #1: The kids vacuum, and clean the bathroom, each week.

It's a good tip, yes?

But how do I prepare my house for the holidays, other than doing the usual weekly chores?

Well, I try to pick up a few of the piles of schoolwork and recipes that I leave lying around most of the rest of the time. Which makes me feel good, momentarily.

And then I go and stare in horror at my couch.

Because that couch is over 20 years old, and covered with beige chenille, and over the course of those 20 years, it has endured the abuse of two children and 3 large dogs.

A couple of years ago, I decided to clean my couch myself. I was inspired by one of my friends, Chloe.
Chloe's couch is covered in the same exact beige chenille fabric as mine, and she told me she had successfully laundered her couch's cushion covers, using a mild detergent and Oxi-clean. I was doubtful, but desperate, because company was coming for Christmas, and my formerly light beige chenille couch had become pretty nearly a dingy brown.

Well, sure enough with a gentle detergent, and the addition of Oxi-clean, with the washer set on gentle cycle, and using cold water, I was able to get my couch cushion covers remarkably clean. I don't necessarily recommend that YOU try this, because I have no idea what kind of fabric your sofa might have. (And certain types of fabrics might shrink, for example, or not be able to withstand a machine washing.) But I did want to say that I was impressed by how well Oxi-Clean worked on MY couch cushion covers.

So there you have it: what do you do when the relatives are coming? Well, sometimes, if you're desperate enough, you clean your cruddy couch.

What do you do to get your house ready for the holidays?

I am sharing my holiday home decor and cleaning tips for the chance to win prizes from The SITS Girls and Great Cleaners.

Do You See What I See?

2011-12-07T19:51:00.005-06:00

Do you see what I see?

Said the night wind to the little lamb: "Do you see what I see? Way up in the sky, little lamb."

Well, how about it?

Do you see what I see?

I'll bet you don't.

You probably see a lovely tree, covered in twinkling lights, surrounded by presents, with a warm fire glowing in the fireplace.

And you'd be right.

But, I see all that, and something more.

"A star, a star, shining in the night, it will bring us goodness and light."

Can you see it, twinkling away, there on top of the tree?

Because I see more than a star: I see a story.

A story of two young lovers, newlyweds, poor as church mice when it came to dollars, but rich, oh, so very rich in love.

With veritable stars in their eyes.

Starting a life together. Starting their own little family, with just the two of them, And not enough money to decorate their tree.

What to do, what to do?

Necessity being the mother of invention, the bride got the idea to buy bright crimson flocked ribbon, cut it into lengths, and tie each length into a bow, and insert a wire hook in the back. A string or two of white lights, a strand or two of white pearlescent beads, and a couple of dozen bright red plastic apples, and they had it goin' on. Red, and green and white was their tree. And thus, they had their first Christmas together in their own apartment, their Love Nest in the Tree Tops, and they were the two turtledoves, blissfully happy. All was calm. All was bright.

Except.

They had nothing to top their tree.

No angel. No Father Christmas. And no money with which to purchase one.

Again, what to DO?

The groom was no slouch when it came to feathering their nest, and as they cast their eyes about for a solution, he spied the Fostoria candy dish that had been a wedding gift, sitting on their table. A crystal star.

So he took the end of the string of lights, and stuck some inside the candy dish, and wrapped it in wire on the outside, and climbed a chair, and secured that very heavy crystal candy dish to the top of the tree.

Can you see it now?

And together they looked: and lo, it was good.
It was not just good: it was very good.

And then the groom turned out the living room lights, and he wrapped his arms around that bride of his, and they stood in the almost darkness, and gazed in wonder at the beauty that their love had created together. And then, shakily, he sang into the quiet: "Silent night,". And the bride joined him: "Holy night...". And together they gently swayed as they sang that old hymn. Together their eyes brimmed over with tears. And together they laid their hearts open before their Savior, who had broken into the darkness of the world, to bring light. Together, they thanked Him.

Oh, yes: it was VERY good.

So good, in fact, that neither an angel, nor a Father Christmas has ever been purchased by them since that time. And every year since, now with their children singing along, when the tree is decorated, they turn off the lights in the room, and bask in the light of that star, and sing to the One they adore.

So, now, maybe a little more clearly, you can see what I see.

How very, very grateful I am for the light from that star, and the love I have known.

When seen through the eyes of love, the most common ordinary things become precious.

God sees us with those eyes, and in His eyes, we, too, are are a beautiful, wonderful, even glorious treasure. Take a moment to believe, and savor that thought: You. Are. Treasured.

Do you have a favorite Christmas ornament? Tell me about yours.

If you liked this post, feel free to share it with others. There are some sharing tools just below.
The post was inspired by a writing prompt given to me by Mama Kat. You can read more great posts like it by lots of other great writers over at her website.

Of Cancer, Mammograms, and Birthdays

2011-12-07T11:02:00.010-06:00

Me and my pal.

In honor of my dear friend, who was diagnosed with, and treated for breast cancer this year, I'm off to get a mammogram tomorrow.

(We're pretty certain that my friend got lucky, in that they caught her cancer fairly early, and were able to treat it, and have pronounced her treatment at this time complete.)

In honor of another friend, who hasn't been quite so lucky, and who is fighting for her life right now, with Stage 4 breast cancer, I'm going to go get my mammogram.

I've avoided doing this.

I've avoided doing it for months.

I don't like to think about cancer.

Both my parents died from cancer.

The word "cancer", alone, pushes all kinds of emotional buttons for me.

But I bet I'm not alone in that. I bet it pushes buttons for you, too.

Nasty, hateful, despicable stuff.

But the fact is, what is, inside my body, is.

And no amount of avoidance will change what is.

If I go get my routine "look-see" taken care of, I'll either get the "all clear", which will feel GREAT, or they'll catch whatever it is before it has any more time to do any more damage. And early intervention is your best hope of beating cancer. Right?

So, I'm going to go have my mammogram.

Because it's the right thing to do, for me.

And I'm going to go get my mammogram because my husband could have died in May from a heart attack he suffered: and I experienced the trauma of having to closely examine the possibility of life without him. I had to look at what that would be like for me, and what it might be like for my kids. And I don't want him, or them, to have to consider too closely what it would be like to go on without me. Not now. Not for a long time.

Going to get my mammogram is the right thing for me to do for them, as well.

Because I believe in birthdays. I believe in celebrating birthdays with all my might and main. Because birthdays celebrate the gift of life that we have been given.

So, here's to more birthdays.

What about you? Have you been dragging your feet on getting your mammogram done?

Wanna join me, in taking good care of your body? Make that call, and if you do, let me know.

Disclosure: I am working on behalf of The SITS Girls and Unruly Media to promote the American Cancer Society campaign. This post was sponsored by the American Cancer Society

And I feel really, really good about that.

The Curse of the Sugar Plum Fairy

2011-12-05T11:02:00.000-06:00

Maybe I need Glinda to help me break this curse? Image from here.

What is it about me and the Nutcracker Ballet?

I am cursed.

My friends, I live my life under the Curse of the Sugar Plum Fairy.

That curse is a little known phenomenon, but it has to do with a person who chooses to go to a kiddie version of the ballet. Here in Nashville we have a performance known as the Mini-Nutcracker. It's a perfectly lovely production, danced by young school-aged dancers who have been trained by our most excellent Metro Parks Ballet program, and honest to goodness, the reason that I go back year after year is because they do such a wonderful job. Well, that, and to support friends of ours who have daughters who dance in the production. It's kind of tradition for my daughter and two of her closest friends, and so almost without exception, year after year it's our holiday tradition.

But there is apparently an accompanying tradition/curse that goes with me to that performance.

No matter where our seats are, invariably, I get the kid behind me who has to assert his individuality and his right to have strong preferences to the rest of the world. Frankly, what's going on in the row behind me has become almost as much a part of the show for me as what's going on on the stage. "What will the show going on behind my back entail THIS year?" I wonder.

A couple of years ago, there was a row full of 5 and 6 year old kids who were there unattended by parents. They weren't dressed quite as nicely as some of the other little "dolled-up for the holiday" tots surrounding me. I'm pretty sure that some kind soul had driven them in from the inner-city. At least, their speech patterns reminded me of some of the kids I used to work with at the elementary school where I used to work in the inner city. They were excited to be at the show, and pretty much operating without boundaries, with no adult seated near them to provide any.

So when I broke out my package of gum and got myself a piece and offered a piece to my friend sitting next to me, the kid BEHIND me, (I'll call him Marcel), Marcel felt not the least bit of hesitation in regard to asking for my gum. All of it. He wanted to give it to all his buds.

"Hey, lady: you gonna chew all dat?"
"Well...not at the moment...."
"Could me and my friends have it?"
"Well...alright...."

So, Marcel got gum for everyone, making him the man of the hour amongst his compadres, and they all began enthusiastically chawing away.

And then, the seat kicking began. Unintentional, to be sure, but the rows of seats in that theater are close, and Marcel was antsy. And wiggly. And restless. And excited.

And then, of course, there was the conversation. Pretty loud conversation.

"I know dat paht's comin'. Dat paht where dah Shoogah Plum comes. She so fine. She really, really pretty. An' she dances so niiiice. I love dah Shoogah Plum. Mah teachah tole me all about dah Shoogah Plum."

"Is this it? Is this dah paht?"

"Where is she? Where is dah Shoogah Plum?"

"Here she come! Here she come!!! Deh go dah Shoogah Plum!"

Now, in case you don't remember the exact musical theme that Tchaikovsky wrote, you can click on this video, just to hear the proper tune that goes along with the next part of my story, where Marcel began to SING ALONG to the music, in the middle of the ballet performance, with his very own made-up lyrics:

"Dink-a-dink-dink dink dink,
Here she come, Shoogah Plum,
Shoogah Plum,
Shoogah Shoogah Plum!"

By this point, I had long since left being annoyed, and had moved on through and past incredulity, and was so deep into complete bemusement that tears were running down my face. I was silently laughing so hard my seat was shaking.

I'm convinced that Marcel has a future as a very successful rapper in front of him.

And then, there was this year.

My daughter and I fondly remembered Marcel on our drive into town, and wondered what the back row entertainment would be this year. Turned out that this year, It was a toddler. Also skilled in the art of seat kicking.

Mamas, I KNOW it's hard to get a babysitter, and expensive as well, and your toddler will miss out on the opportunity to see his big sister dance in the Nutcracker.

But let me give you a little hint: your toddler REALLY doesn't care. He/she REALLY doesn't want to be there. And if you insist on taking him/her to this wonderful cultural experience, in order to expand your toddler's horizons, and tighten the familial bond within your family, you will only inspire a clash of wills so fierce, so strong, that a similar struggle has not been fought since the battle that raged on The Sands of Iwo Jima. I kid you not. And YOUR enjoyment of the show will be the very first casualty of the battle.

I'm telling you there was a match going on behind me this year that ProWrestling would have been proud to have hosted: A Mommy/Toddler Smackdown of Epic proportions, punctuated by:

Mommy: "Shhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Toddler, wailing: "Nooooooooooooooo!!!!"

Mommy, whispering loudly through gritted teeth: "Ssssssssit DOWN!!!!"

Toddler: "Oooooooooooooowwwwwwwwww!!!!"

Mommy: "SSSSShhhhhhhhhhh!!!!"

Grunts, groans, body slams into seat.

Toddler: "AAAAAAAAGGGGGHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Mommy, hissing: "I said BE QUIET!!!!"

And all of this occurring as The Exquisite Sugar Plum gracefully twirls and struts her time on the stage.

She KNOWS she's torturing me. I know it! I see it in the smug set of her delicate features. And yet, on she pirouettes, as my brain sloshes against the interior wall of my skull, from the whiplash I receive due to repeated jarring seat kicks.

WHEN WILL THIS TORTURE END??????????

:-D

Part of our tradition is to meet my daughter's friends and go with them to the performance, so here's a sweet picture that we snapped in the park of my own ballerina, and some of her buds. It doesn't really relate to the story, but I thought you might enjoy it.

Growing up too fast to suit me.

Is it just me? Am I the only one to be cursed by the Sugar Plum Fairy?

Tell me your Nutcracker tales of woe!

What's That Smell?

2011-12-02T08:06:00.004-06:00

It's funny how one thing leads to another…

Remember how the other day I did a post on 5 Things? (Like Five Things that You Don't Know About Me; and Five Things That I Know Nothing About; and Five Things I'm Knowledgeable About; and Five Things I Believe.) That topic came from Mama Kat's Pretty Much World Famous Writing Prompts, and the button below will take you right over there if you're interested in reading some more EXCELLENT samples of writing, on a variety of topics. Or if you're interested in being challenged by her weekly writing prompts. I've done two so far: 5 Things (which I already mentioned) and 7 Wonders of My World, which some kind soul "stumbled" (Thanks, Anne!) and which got me a LOT of traffic.

I've discovered that I really enjoy the challenge of being given a topic that is intriguing to me, and then just taking off, and seeing what comes out! If you think you might like that as well, you ought to give Mama Kat's writing prompts a try.

Well, this morning I went over there myself to do some more reading by other bloggers, and I came across Rachael Heiner's "5 Things" post on her blog, "Scientific Nature of the Whammy". Among the things she mentioned that we didn't know about her, was the time she had worked a temp job in a fish filet processing factory, and how that experience had caused her to gain a huge respect for people who do such jobs. Her post triggered a memory for me that I thought was worth re-telling here, so here goes.

When my husband and I were newlyweds, he didn't have a steady job.

That's kind of funny, because we've been married for almost 25 years, and he STILL doesn't have a steady job.

Huh.

Anywho, he did a lot of different jobs to support his music habit, and at one point, he was working for a friend of ours who does professional video shoots, and it was my hubby's job to run sound. This means he had to hold the boom mic, and wear headphones, and keep an eye on the sound levels, to make sure they were getting what they wanted on tape. One week, our friend informed him that they had a gig to shoot video at a pig breeding farm, in Iowa. They were going to fly there, and apparently the job would pay well: it was a BIG PIG place, you know what I'm saying? Whole lot of potential bacon was being brought into this world at this place.

When they arrived at the pig farm, HE had to shower to be allowed to go in and see the pigs!

Think about THAT!

He had to pause for a moment, in order to not take offense! (Imagine being told you're too nasty to be with the pigs!)

The idea, of course, was that if a visitor carried in a contaminant that it could spread like WILDFIRE through the entire pig population. And let me tell you, it was an extremely populated porcine palace, if you catch my drift. (Which, since we're talking about pigs, you might not want to do.)

When he left the pigs, he showered again, because, well, the aroma was UNBELIEVABLE, according to him. (And this is a man with a frequently stopped up nose.)

So, when he got home late that night, I was already in bed, but I hadn't fallen asleep yet. I was eagerly waiting for his return. We were newlyweds, and I couldn't wait to snuggle up to him: I'd missed him so much! He decided to shower AGAIN, just to be safe, to be sure he had gotten all the pig perfume off, since it was so pervasive. So when he finally came to bed, I spooned up behind him, and wrapped my arm around him, to hold him close.

A nose by any other name would smell a whole lot sweeter. Picture from here.

As I lay my head next to his, ready to whisper sweet nothings into his ear, my nose, which happened to be right next to his ear, went to RED ALERT/DEFCON 1/COCKED PISTOL/NUCLEAR WAR IS IMMINENT status. While the rest of his skin smelled sweetly of soapy cleanness, from his inner ear there came an odor so noxious, so permeating, so searing, that I squealed (piggy reference) aloud, "Oh, my GOSH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! What is that STENCH????". One whiff emanating from his INNER EAR (not the outer part, which he had washed. Twice.) caused my eyes to begin pouring water. How to describe it? The smell was somewhere in between death and pig poo and the sulfurous fires of hell, and it was wafting from out of his ear tube. If I were braver, I'd tell you the words that popped into my mind, and then, perhaps, out of my mouth that night. "Holy ____!!!!!!" But it was UNholy. I can assure you of that. Ungodly and unholy and MOST DEFINITELY UNfit to be in my bed that night.

He FLEW out of the bed, and RAN for the shower, and washed and washed again. And I wish that I could tell you that the smell was completely eradicated, and it was, mostly...but a little bit of THAT smell goes a long way, and it was nauseating to me.

And people work at their jobs at that huge pig breeding farm, every day, all day long.

And their poor wives....

I've asked a similar question before, (in my post about the horrors of the mixture Axe and Turkey Poo) but people seem to enjoy answering it: What horrifying smell have you endured?

Perciatelli all'Amatriciana: Best Pasta EVER

2011-12-01T15:10:00.003-06:00

This is the stuff.

OK, I can hear you now, from clear over here in the Boonies.

A whole lot of you are saying: "What the ____ is perciatelli?"

(Unless you're Italian. Or a chef. Or you really know your pasta.)

Well, I TRIED to give you a little context clue in the title; and the picture should be your second big clue. It's a pasta.

And it's so good that if I weren't already married, I'd consider asking me to marry me.
But that would be bigamy. Or big of me.
Potato, potahto.
Linguine, fettucine.

And, yes, absolutely, you can substitute spaghetti.

There. Breathing easier now? Good.

These little forays of mine into what for some of you might be the culinary unknown are why many of you come here. And yet, some of you make the trip kicking and screaming (and whining). But you nearly ALWAYS come back and thank me.

Because that's my job: to get you to expand your horizons a bit. To encourage you to try something you haven't. Take a risk. Live a little. You CAN do better, with fairly minimal effort on your part.

But you tell yourself (some of you) that you CAN'T; that you're not a good cook. And to that, I say, "Pshaw. Fiddle-dee-dee." We'll think about that tomorrow. In the words of Bob's therapist (You know. the movie "What About Bob"? With Bill Murray as Bob, and Richard Dreyfuss as the therapist?):

"Baby Steps".

We're baby steppin'.

And today, we're baby steppin' in pasta. Which sounds slippery.

The recipe is called Perciatelli all'Amatriciana,

Here's what the Cook's Thesaurus says in regard to this type of pasta noodle:

perciatelli = bucatini Pronunciation: pear-chuh-TELL-lee Notes: These are hollow pasta rods that are thicker than spaghetti. They're usually served in casseroles or with hearty meat sauces, or they're broken up and served in minestrone soup. Substitutes: spaghetti (thinner rods) OR linguine OR fettucine.

On the TV show, The Best Thing I Ever Made, chef Beau Macmillan made Bucatini with Bacon Sauce and Meatballs, and said it was the best dish that he'd ever had as a child. It was cooked by a friend's Mom, and it had inspired him to become a chef. Now, come on: I love pasta! But, a pasta good enough to inspire someone to become a chef? This I wanted to try!

I didn't really have time to make meatballs. What to do?

Happily, I remembered that I had borrowed from the library a copy of Mario Batali's cookbook, Molto Gusto, Easy Italian Cooking. And he had a recipe for Spaghetti all'Amatriciana. With no meatballs. And, I had almost every other ingredient that I needed to make something similar to his recipe!

So, the recipe I'm going to share with you today was inspired by Beau Macmillan, but really follows more closely Mario's recipe.

Mario's recipe called for guanciale or pancetta, both of which are Italian pork products that I didn't have. (Guanciale is made from pork cheeks, washed in wine, seasoned and left in a stone niche for 40 days to marinate. It's such a specialty product that most Italians have never heard of it. Pancetta is Italian bacon, typically salt cured and seasoned with spices like nutmeg, fennel, peppers and garlic.)

But I DID have good old American bacon! And you might, too. And it works great!

Mario also called for 3/4 c. of Pomi strained tomatoes, which are a specialty tomato product that come in a liter sized box-shaped container. I didn't have that. But what I DID have were some really good canned tomatoes, the kind I reserve just for recipes where the tomato sauce is front and center. What kind did I use? I used an Italian tomato from San Marzano (they come in a three pack at my Costco), and this particular brand is called "Nina". But what you should look for are whole plum tomatoes from San Marzano. They actually do make a difference in flavor. They're very rich.

I couldn't find the bucatini that Beau Macmillan's recipe called for, so I decided to substitute the closest thing I could to it. Here's what you're looking for: a long noodle, like spaghetti, but if you can find it, you want one with a hole in the center (Like perciatelli or bucatini). The idea here is to cook it till it's barely al dente, so that when you put it in with the hot sauce, it will continue to cook and absorb that pasta sauce into its hole in the center, and well, it's just exquisite.

The first time I made this, I could find neither of those, so I used linguine, and it was still awesome. The next time I went to Kroger, on a pasta quest, they had a Private Selection (house brand) of perciatelli, which up to that point, I had never heard of before, but while inspecting the package, I thought it looked like a fat spaghetti, so I bought it. Brought it home, googled the name and found out I had hit the jackpot: it is the equivalent of bucatini. So there's a crash course for you in pasta varieties, so you can learn what I did.

Since I didn't have the Pomi strained tomatoes that Mario Batali wants simmered until reduced by half, here's what I did. I dumped the 28 oz. can of Nina whole tomatoes (in puree, with a basil leaf) into a big saucepan, and removed the basil leaf. Then I used my hands to squish all the tomatoes, taking note of how high the level of the liquid was on the side of the pan. Then I simmered them for about a half an hour, stirring periodically, and continuing to squish any remaining tomato chunks. The idea here is that you are going to CONCENTRATE those strong tomato flavors. DO NOT SKIP THIS STEP. You'll be tempted to, because you're in a hurry, but don't. The charm of this dish is the intensity of the flavors, and it has them all: sweet, spicy, salty and smoky. So don't lose out on the flavor that you'll gain by simmering your tomatoes till they are reduced by half.

I used about 1/4 of the hot red pepper flakes that Mario Batali used, so if you like it spicy, you can use up to 2 teaspoons full. I used 1/2 of a teaspoon. Adjust the heat of this dish to your own preference level.

When it comes to pasta water, you want it salty like the ocean. That's your chance to put flavor into the noodles. So about 3 T. of salt go into the water you're going to boil the pasta in.

So here's my hybrid version of both chef's pasta recipes:

The closer you get, the better it looks. I cannot tell you how good this stuff tastes. My family fights over any leftovers.

Perciatelli all'Amatriciana
Ingredients:

Kosher salt
1/4 c. extra virgin olive oil
1/4 lb. bacon, cut into 1/2" wide strips
1 medium red onion, halved lengthwise, ends trimmed, and cut lengthwise into 1/4" wide slices
1/4 c. tomato paste
1/2 t. hot red pepper flakes
1 28 oz. can of Italian San Marziano tomatoes, simmered down and reduced by half
1 lb. Perciatelli (or bucatini, or linguine, or spaghetti)
1/2 c. freshly grated Pamigiano Reggiano, plus extra for serving
1/2 c. grated pecorino romano
1/3 c, coarsely chopped fresh Italian parsley

Preparation:

Get your saucepan of tomatoes simmering, and reduce them by half.

Bring 6 quarts of water to a boil. I salt it right before I put the pasta in. About 3 T. of salt.

Meanwhile, combine the oil, bacon and onion in another large pot and cook over medium high heat, stirring frequently, until the bacon is lightly browned and the onion is softened, about 7 minutes. Stir in the tomato paste and red pepper flakes and cook, stirring until fragrant, about 1 minute. Stir in the tomato sauce and remove from the heat. Drop the pasta into the boiling water and cook until just al dente. Drain, reserving about 1/2 c. of the pasta water.

Add the pasta and 1/4 c. of the reserved pasta water to the bacon and stir and toss over medium heat until the past is well coated (add a splash or two more of the reserved pasta water if necessary to loosen the sauce). Stir in the cheeses and parsley and serve immediately, with additional grated Parmigiano on the side.

And now, for the question: what's your favorite Italian dish?

Happy Haulidays from Chronicle Books: Cookbooks!

2011-11-30T14:32:00.001-06:00

I don't know about you, but I LOVE a good book. The down time during the holidays is one of my favorite times to dig into a great read. In general, I've disciplined myself into becoming more of a public library kind of girl: when funds are tight, apart from what we spend on our kid's curriculum, books I'd enjoy purchasing for my own reading pleasure tend to get a lower priority ranking when we look at the family finances.

But when it comes to cookbooks? I love borrowing new cookbooks to try out from the library, but when I find a great one, it can be AGONY to part with it, and have to return it to the library.

I've been making a wish-list of cookbooks this morning that I'd love to read, from the website of Chronicle Books. And WHY, you might ask, did I compile this list?

Chronicle Books is sponsoring a giveaway called Happy Haulidays, where they will give away up to $500.00 worth of books to one lucky blogger AND another $500. 00 worth of books TO ONE OF THAT BLOGGER'S COMMENTERS! (That could be YOU!)

But, wait, it gets even better: not only will the blogger AND the commenter win, but the winning blogger also gets to choose a charity to receive up to $500.00 worth of books from Chronicle Books. And in case I win, I'm choosing the Davidson County Public Library, of Nashville, Tennessee (with love and gratitude, for all the joy they have offered my family through the years, by loaning me that very precious commodity: books!).

By creating my own wish-list, of all the books I would LOVE to own, I'm entered to win!

There are two ways for YOU to win:
1) You can create your own wish-list, and publish your own blog post. And here's a link to their rules.

2) You can leave a comment here, and you'll win my exact wish list (no research required on your part!).

And you can increase your chances of winning by tweeting about the contest using the hashtag #happyhaulidays, and get one extra entry per day for each day you do a tweet.

So here's my wish list, and not surprisingly, it's all cookbooks:

1. Weber's Big Book of Grilling by Jamie Purviance and Sandra S. McRae

2. Tartine Bread by Chad Robertson

3. The Tra Vigne Cookbook by Michael Chiarello, with Penelope Wisner

4. Michael Chiarello's Casual Cooking by Michael Chiarello with Janet Fletcher

5. Cat Cora's Kitchen by Cat Cora and Ann Krueger Spivack

6. At Home with Maichael Chiarello by Michael Chiarello

7. Michael Chiarello's Bottega by Michael Chiarello

8. The Country Cooking of Italy by Colman Andrews

9. The Bread Bible by Beth Hensperger

10. 5 Spices, 50 Dishes by Ruta Kahate

11. Madhur Jaffrey's Quick & Easy Indian Cooking by Madhur Jaffrey

12. Cheese & Wine by Janet Fletcher

13. Top Chef: The Cookbook by the creators of Top Chef

14. The Country Cooking of Ireland by Colman Andrews

15. Plenty by Yotam Ottolenghi

Why don't you head on over to the Chronicle Books website, and take a look for yourself at the marvelous selection of books they have (because it's NOT just cook books!). Here's a link to the Happy Haulidays giveaway rules, so you can check them out - and use them - for yourself, if you'd like enter yourself, and generate your own list. Hurry, though. You must be entered by December 2nd to be considered.

But if my list appeals to you, take the easy way, and just leave me a comment to win the same books I'd love to win!

If I win, I'll choose my winning commenter through a random drawing. One comment per person, if you please!

I hope we win!!! :-D

To comment, answer this question: if you had some time over the holidays, what genre of book would you be likely to choose?

5 Things

2011-11-28T23:36:00.006-06:00

Wonder why I'm sporting a halo? Me, too. But, read on...

Oy, vey. Talk about your navel gazing post. Sheesh. I only did this for you, MamaKat, because you prompted me, darn you, through your pretty much world famous Writer's Workshop.

5 Things You Don't Know About Me:

I laugh loudly. But you can't hear me over the internet. (At least, I don't think you can. Can you?)
I'm wearing my pajamas. Seriously. Doesn't matter what time it is when you're reading this. Odds are, I'm likely wearing my pajamas.
I'm much cooler in real life. (This could be due to the fact that I'm wearing pajamas.)
I might need a shower.
I used to sing in Ukrainian over short-wave radio. (You might already know this, if your name is Donna, Val, or Dave. Or Stephanie or Paul. Otherwise, I'm pretty sure you didn't know that.)

5 Things I'm Knowledgable About:

I've spent a lot of time reading and studying the Bible. A lot, a lot, a lot. And it's a darn shame it didn't take any better than it has.
I know how to tell a story: there's some kind of alchemy that happens when I sit down and start to tell one. I can do it in a live situation, and I can do it in print. I don't understand it, but I accept it. And I think it's probably a God-thing.
I know how to cook pretty well. There must be osmosis involved in that, from growing up in the house that I did and just absorbing what my Mom was doing in the kitchen. Add in a little creative drive, sprinkle with several years of experience, and voilà. There you have it. The girl can cook.
I know how to speak dog. I can channel your dog's inner voice, if you don't know what it sounds like yourself. I can summon it forth. I hate to brag, but, there it is.
I know a fair amount about the music bidness, from behind the scenes. And my friends, there are things I wish I DIDN'T know about the music bidness.

5 Things I Know NOTHING About:

Lawd, Miz Scahlett, I don't know nufin' 'bout birfin' no baybiz. (AS IF I could resist that one!!!)
I know nothing about, (nor do I CARE to know anything about) car maintenance, or car repair. If my husband had croaked this summer, I would have been Wheelless in the Boonies. I thank God above for a man who tends to such things here below.
I know nothing about the advanced maths or sciences. (Sing with me: "Don't know much trigonometry...") I accept applied science and technology for the miracles that they are (and yes, I meant that to be ironic).
I know nothing about politics: who COULD get us out of the economic mess we're in? I have no idea. (Actually, I know enough about human nature to fear that the answer is "no one". But I really don't know if that's right, either.)
The future. I actually know nothing about the future, more's the pity. Even though I not only predict it but also dread it, with regularity. (There are also occasions when I anticipate it and look forward to it with great optimism. Happily, my glass is often half-full.)

5 Things I Believe:

I believe in God the Father Almighty, Creator of Heaven and Earth. And in Jesus Christ His only Son, our Lord, and in all the rest of the Apostles' Creed.
I believe that there is spiritually, inside of each one of us, a God-shaped hole, that longs for meaning and purpose for our lives that is beyond just ourself, and that that void was created by and meant to be filled by a relationship with our Creator, (who then teaches us how to express that love by reaching out in love to others).
I believe that Jesus intended for us to have life to the full, and not to kill our joy.
I believe that a lot of my time I spend chasing after things that will not bring true joy or satisfaction.
I believe I'll go to bed, now.

Now, Gentle Reader, what about you? Surely this post has prompted you to want to tell me something! Something I don't know about you?

Something you're knowledgable about?

Something you believe in?

Leave me a comment. Throw me a line. Bring out the hook, and get me off this stage! It's your turn, now!

Book Review: Saving CeeCee Honeycutt

2011-11-28T07:29:00.001-06:00

It's a good read!

Yes, I'm going to do it. I'm going to offer you my review of "Saving CeeCee Honeycutt", the New York Times bestseller, by Beth Hoffman.

A BRIEF WORD TO THOSE OF YOU WHO HAVEN'T READ THIS BOOK:

Normally, I shy away from reading book reviews of books I haven't read, because I have spoilerphobia (a little known condition that affects those of us who REALLY DON'T WANT TO KNOW how this thing's going to end, on the outside chance that we MIGHT read it someday. Which we probably won't. But that's immaterial: don't be spoilin' the dang book for me.)

So, for those of you who ARE spoilerphobic: BREATHE. Inhale. Good. Now, let it out, exhale, Good. Deep cleansing breath in? Good. And exhale. Good.

(Now, wasn't that nice? And, you're welcome, for that moment of centering meditation.)

I promise not to spoil this book for you. So read on, fellow spoilerphobes. (And yes, I just made that word up: it's Boonese.)

"Saving CeeCee Honeycutt" is a book for women, about women. Yes, there were moments for me that were Steel Magnoliaesque. Was I reminded a time or two of the book "The Help"? Yes. But those are both really fine stories, so if a little bit of female character development doesn't scare you off, then you just might find yourself really enjoying this book.

CeeCee is the daughter of a mentally ill woman, Camille. CeeCee ends up not only practically raising herself, but being the primary care giver of her mother as well. When circumstances change dramatically in her life, CeeCee finds herself uprooted from her dire straits, and transplanted into the privileged society of the upper crust of Savannah, Georgia. CeeCee moves in with her Great-Aunt Tootie, a woman who has the vision to not only restore crumbling historic homes, but who also sees the potential inside the wrecked soul of her sweet great-niece. She saves what was once dearly loved from destruction.

If nothing else, this book made me want to take a trip to Savannah to see that graceful city!

But there was so much more to this book: really interesting, intriguing characters, and really entertaining plot development. I swallowed the book whole, in one day, which is not my usual M.O., when it comes to reading fiction.

Another aspect I loved to were the nuggets of wisdom that the adult characters pass along to young CeeCee. (I'll throw this one in for free, as an example: "It's what we believe about ourselves that determines how others see us." That one alone might be worth the price of the book.) This book was all about growing up, and the lessons we learn along the way. Since I'm in the process of raising a couple of teenagers, it's my goal to equip them before they leave the nest. So this book had me really thinking about the tools my own kids will have access to as they process whatever circumstances Life hands them.

If I had one minor criticism for Beth Hoffman, I'd like to see her antagonists be drawn a bit more multi-dimensionally. There was one female character who was clearly thrown in to stir up some trouble, and while she did that, in an enjoyable way, I would have preferred to have been able to find a little something to like in her. (Thinking of villains I have known and loved/hated: for example, the character "Ben" on "Lost". Just when you think he couldn't get any more despicable, you find out a bit of his back story, and before you know it, you find yourself almost rooting for him.) I'd like to see Beth develop her villains a bit more in her next novel.

The holidays are coming up, and you don't REALLY want to spend ALL your time reading blogs or working on your blog, do you? You want a "Calgon: take me away!" kind of read to settle down with, with a nice cup of hot chocolate and some Christmas cookies, right? This is a fun one! I think you'll enjoy "Saving CeeCee Honeycutt" by Beth Hoffman.

(Disclosure: while I won this book in a blog giveaway, that Twitter party is ancient history. I'm getting NOTHING for writing this review. All opinions are strictly my own.)

The Big Bison's Christmas Music

2011-11-26T07:52:00.000-06:00

You'll want to go here to give this a listen. Click on the star once you get there.

"We play The Big Bison's CD with dessert after the Thanksgiving meal: that's when Christmas officially starts at our house. Because only a Philistine would start the Christmas season before dessert on Thanksgiving."

These are the words of my pal, Paul, as we chatted on Facebook on Wednesday morning. We were each taking a quick break from all our food prep for the big superbowl of American food. Paul loves cooking as much as I do, and he's an excellent chef, so we swapped menu plans prior to the big feast.

Gratuitous Pumpkin Pie picture for the non-Philistines among us.

Now that Thanksgiving is over, and the danger of being labeled a Philistine has passed, and the turkey soup has been made, and I have had one full day of complete slothdom, while the rest of you SMART human beings snagged all the GREAT SHOPPING DEALS that there were to be had on Black Friday, I thought I would mention, again, some really nice Christmas music that we have available to make your holiday season a little more merry, and a little more bright.

Many of you know that I am married to a self-employed professional musician, who writes music for advertising for a living. About 15 years ago, my husband got the idea to record some Christmas music with our friend Bill Sinclair, a very talented guy who plays soprano saxophone and harmonica, among other instruments. The really cool thing about it was that Bill came to my husband and said, "I've got this great idea for a project that I'd like to try," and my husband said, "Oh, really! I've had an idea that I wanted to talk about with you, too! Why don't you go first, and tell me your idea, and then, I'll tell you mine."

And, as you have probably guessed, they had each had the same idea, and the result of that shared vision was a beautiful project of instrumental Christmas music entitled, "Bethlehem Morning". We asked our friend Tracy Reynolds who plays keyboards to do the ivory tickling on the first project, and when we updated some of the sounds a couple of years ago, my husband asked our friend Larry Hall, another pro musician in town to replace some of Tracy's electronic keyboard parts. I think the cello playing by John Catchings is one of my favorite parts of the project. I'm a sucker for it, because you know there's always room for cello. :-D

Anyway, here's a link so that you can go listen to some of the loveliness, so that you can try before you buy, because I KNOW you will want to own this gorgeous music, and play it as you decorate your tree, or entertain guests, or open presents, or just sit and sip a cup of Christmas cheer after the kids have gone to bed.

So go check out my link, and give a listen, and see what you think! I bet you'll want a copy for your very own.

And, after all, it IS Small Business Saturday, so you can support a true small business artisan by purchasing this music.

If you already own it, don't forget this would make a great gift to have on hand for one of those last minute, "Oh, crud, I meant to get that person some kind of gift!" situations. It also makes a lovely hostess gift for any December dinners or parties you might be attending.

If you already own it, and like it, please, feel free to share this on Facebook or Twitter.

Thanksgiving Recipes: A Cornucopia of Culinary Delights

2011-11-21T22:39:00.000-06:00

Oh, my. Pecan Pie.

I thought I'd make it easy for you to find any of my Thanksgiving recipes that you might be interested in, and link them all up in one post, so...here ya go!

How To Brine and Smoke a Turkey

How To Brine and Grill a Turkey

World's Best Cream Gravy

World's Best Stuffing: Tuscan Bread with Prosciutto, Goat Cheese, Pine Nuts and Dried Cherries

Cranberry-Orange-Apple and Walnut Relish

Apple-Pear Salad with Maple Pecan Bacon

Bourbon Pumpkin Cheesecake

Pecan Pie

So, I wish you the happiest of Thanksgivings, full of gratitude, and joy, for the many, many blessings you've been given!

Let me know if you have any questions, and I'll do my best to answer them.

(As long as they're not like...how old is the earth? Or, why is there pain and suffering in this life? I was actually referring more to questions regarding the recipes...)

But you're welcome to ask whatever you'd like anyway...I just don't guarantee the quality of my answers. :-D

Easy Cranberry-Orange-Apple-Walnut Relish

2011-11-20T11:40:00.000-06:00

Easy Cranberry-Orange-Apple-Walnut Relish is beautiful, refreshing, and delicious.

This is one of the recipes that nearly always sends at least one of my Thanksgiving guests over the moon. It's sweet, tart, fresh, juicy, and crisp. It makes your taste buds stand up, salute, and break into the Hallelujah chorus. With all the carb-heavy, butter laden dishes we typically serve on our Thanksgiving menus, this dish provides a welcome palate cleanse, in between bites. And no one can believe how easy it is to make!

An additional reason I adore this dish is because my Mommy made it, and I remember helping her crank the handle of the food grinder to make it. Happily for ALL of us, somebody invented the food processor, and now this dish takes all of about 30 seconds to prepare, once your ingredients are prepped.

Mom didn't leave me a written copy of it, so I had to go hunting for a recipe that would approximate what I remembered her making, and happily, I found something similar in my Better Homes and Gardens cookbook. I have altered the recipe somewhat by adding an apple, and reducing the sugar, to suit our taste. This year, I also roasted the walnuts, just to deepen their flavor a bit, and I like that change as well. (350º for about 8 to 10 minutes)

So here it is, my easy-peasy, amazing cranberry relish. (Dedicated to my dear daughter, my sister-in-law Kim, and my friend Rich, who each would like to have their very own bowl, please.)

Cranberry-Orange-Apple-Walnut Relish

4 cups of cranberries (about 1lb.)
2 medium oranges, and their grated zest
1 apple (like a Honeycrisp, or a Gala: something sweet and tart and crisp), peeled and sliced
1 c. sugar
1/4 c. roasted, and then finely chopped walnuts

With a microplane zester, zest the outer peel off of two oranges. (Use the orange part only, not the bitter white of the pith underneath). then peel and section the oranges. Put cranberries, orange sections, zest, and apple slices into food processor and pulse until mixture is finely chopped, but not puréed. Add most of sugar and taste, adding more sugar to suit your taste. Stir in walnuts and refrigerate.

If you make this the day before (or a few days before), the color will be an even more brilliant red, as the juices of the cranberries work their way into the apple and orange. I usually make this on Monday or Tuesday of Thanksgiving week (but then, I have to keep my daughter out of it all week, till Thursday). Prepare early at your own risk: it may be hard to stay out of it.

Serve cold.

Do you serve cranberries with your Thanksgiving meal? How do you serve them?

Thanksgiving-Worthy Salad: Apple-Pear Salad with Maple Pecan Bacon

2011-11-15T23:33:00.002-06:00

I forgot to put the cheese on last night. But it was still great: cheese is definitely optional.

I went to a slumber party with my wonderful girlfriends, and came home with the salad of my dreams.

OK, the truth is, nearly all of us bugged out after Bible study, dinner, and the hot tub, and went home to sleep in our own beds BEFORE we got to the slumber portion of the evening. I think 4 guests remained when I left. So, not much slumbering on site. And yes, I was one of the ones who hit the trail, late at night, so I could go home and sleep in the Boonies. But nearly all of us showed back up again the next morning for breakfast together, so it was ALMOST a slumber party.

But at the dinner we had on Friday night, my friend Debbie had prepared a huge, glorious salad that was so good, it had all of us begging for the recipe.

And then, the next day, I found that very recipe, in my brand new Southern Living 2011 Annual Recipes cookbook that had just arrived in the mail. It was listed among the very select group of the Best Recipes of 2011. And I can assure you, it earned that place of high honor. This was one of the best salads I've had in a LONG time. And, since it was actually published in the Southern Living Magazine during the month of October, its ingredients are very fall-friendly, making it perfect for your Thanksgiving table.

I tire of green beans on Thanksgiving. I always use fresh green beans, and they are a lot of work to tip, string and break. This salad requires very little preparation (the biggest effort was in browning the bacon, but that could easily be done the day before Thanksgiving), and will make a fresh and BURSTING WITH FLAVOR addition to your holiday menu.

It's the CRANBERRY VINAIGRETTE, people. Holy molé, it's packed with flavor. Check it out!

Apple-Pear Salad with Maple Pecan Bacon

Makes 8 servings

Salad Ingredients:

8 thick bacon slices
1/4 c. maple syrup
1 1/2 c. finely chopped pecans
1/2 of a large plastic container spring mix salad greens (I buy mine at Costco)
1 large pear, thinly sliced
1 large Honeycrisp apple (other variety, like Gala, will do), thinly sliced
1 c. halved seedless grapes (whatever color you'd like: I had green on hand)
4 oz. Gorgonzola cheese (I substituted Feta, which worked fine; you want something with zing, that is dry and crumbly)

Cranberry Vinaigrette Ingredients:

1 c. whole berry cranberry sauce
1 t. grated orange zest
1/2 c. fresh squeezed orange juice
1/4 c. balsamic vinegar
1/4 c. olive oil
1 T. light brown sugar
2 t. grated fresh ginger
1/2 t. salt

To Prepare Vinaigrette:

Combine all ingredients in a jar with a lid, and shake vigorously, until blended and smooth. (Alternatively, you can whisk it.)

To Prepare Bacon:

Preheat oven to 400º. Place a lightly greased wire rack in an aluminum foil-lined jelly roll pan. Dip bacon in syrup, allowing excess to drip off. Dredge bacon in pecan pieces. Arrange bacon slices in a single layer on rack, and bake 20 minutes; turn bacon slices, and bake 5 to 10 minutes more, or until browned and crisp. Remove from oven, let stand 5 minutes, and cut bacon crosswise into 1" pieces.

To Prepare Salad:

Place salad greens on a serving platter. Top with apple slices grapes, cheese, and bacon. Serve with cranberry vinaigrette.

I imagine this vinaigrette would be great on almost any other type of salad you've a mind to experiment with. But the cranberry fits the Thanksgiving holiday so well, I hated the thought of NOT telling you about it in time for the holiday.

I suggest you give it a trial run before Thanksgiving, and see if you don't decide to add this to your Thanksgiving menu. It's spectacular!

Got any side dish that you typically serve that you'd like to replace?

7 Wonders of My World, Witnessed with My Own Two Eyes:

2011-11-15T00:36:00.007-06:00

In No Particular Order:

1. Thousands of jellyfish, floating underneath the swimming pool raft that I was lying on, belly down, in the Adriatic. I could not put a finger or toe in the water without getting stung. Jellyfish don't swim: they drift with the current. And so do air mattresses.

2. My then boyfriend/soon-to-be-fiancée's deer-in-the-headlights look, right after he slipped and accidentally told me he loved me for the very first time, as he was saying goodnight, after a loooong time spent making out on my couch. (I offered him a do-over in his choice of wording, in case in the heat of the moment, in his lust-filled state, he'd lost his mind, and wanted to take it back. He thought about it momentarily, and decided he'd just leave it, as it was. Good call on his part.)

3. The quiet, earnest, sincere, pondering, lingering gaze of my firstborn newborn baby boy, who supposedly couldn't really see me, the newborn's ability to focus being somewhat diminished. But when they laid him in my arms, we gazed into each other's eyes for what seemed like an eternity, as he gravely considered the owner of the voice he'd been listening to for the last nine months, and I fell irrevocably in love.

Lac Léman, between Switzerland and France. The mountains are called Les Dents du Midi. Image from here.

4. After two weeks of fog, and complete cloud cover, the morning in January that the clouds lifted, and the French Alps (les Dents du Midi) were revealed to me for the very first time, across the lake from my new Swiss home, in Lausanne. It was as if a magician had dropped them in there out of nowhere. They took my breath away, quite literally.

5. My five week old baby daughter's first smile, that she reserved for her stuffed animal, placed beside her in the crib. (We took it away: she stopped smiling. We put it back, she smiled again. Repeat, 5 times more…) Her joy brought me such overwhelming delight.

6. The message in the barnacle-covered wine bottle, that washed up in the waves in front of us at the beach, that claimed it was sent from a boat adrift at sea. It gave the boat's name, the coordinates, and the harbor it had sailed out of. Such wonder, at being the right place, at the right time! (Yes, we reported it to the Coast Guard. No, we never heard anything else. I've always wondered…)

7. The barn that gave my then-wounded father shelter during the Battle of the Bulge, when the 101st Airborne was surround by the Nazis, and the face of the woman whose family owned that barn, as she discussed her recollections of that time with me, as I translated her words from French to English, for my father, visiting Belgium almost 40 years later.

Tell me one wonder of your world, that you have witnessed with your own, two eyes.

(If you liked this post, feel free to share it on Facebook or Twitter. There are some little, unobtrusive gray buttons at the bottom of the post, I think.)

How to Smoke Your Holiday Turkey...or...Deck the Hawrs with Boughs of Hawry

2011-11-10T13:16:00.003-06:00

Last year, I gave you my recipe for how to cook your Thanksgiving Turkey. I went back and revisited that recipe, and I think I SHOULD give you a bit of an update on how we REALLY cooked our Thanksgiving Turkey last year. Because rather than grilling it, we smoked it.

And I feel like I might need a bit of a testimonial on the TASTE of the bird, from one of the guests, because if you SAW the actual bird, you might think I had lost my mind. Seriously.

Because, honestly? It looked a little...well...not like how I was expecting it to look.

Fiddle dee dee, you say? Do you remember that closing scene in A Christmas Story, when the Bumpesses' Bloodhounds have eaten Ralphie's Old Man's Turkey, and so the whole family goes out for Chinese on Christmas Day? And the waiters bring the Peking Duck, charred to a faretheewell, and lay it out on the table in front of the family? And then they chop off its head, right in front of her? And the mother screams?

Well, when you smoke a turkey, apparently, it gets more than a little, um, smoky looking, and honestly, it's not going to win any beauty contests. OK, I'll just go ahead and say it out loud: it looks burnt.

But, it tastes great.

So, just so you'll know, here's how it looks.

ACK!!!!!!!!!!!!! Y'all ATE THAT THANG????????????

Maybe I should just stop here, out of respect for all y'all who know a burnt bird when you see one.

Well, I would...

Except...

I know better.

And anyone who's ever smoked a turkey knows better.

Smoking a turkey leads to the most delicious turkey I've ever tasted. But it ain't going to win the "Miss Butterball" Beauty Pageant, either, and I thought I ought to get that fact right out on the holiday table, from the git-go, as it were.

So go ahead and SHRIEK like the Mom did in "A Christmas Story" when they whacked off the duck's head, if you must.

But here's another HUGE ADVANTAGE to keep in mind when you are contemplating cooking your turkey outside (via smoking, grilling, or even deep frying): it opens up VALUABLE OVEN REAL ESTATE on the day of the holiday, that you can use for rolls, stuffing, and/or any other baked side dish or dessert that you might be serving. So bear that in mind as you plan your holiday meal.

And now, we'll get on with our presentation on how to smoke a turkey.

I brine mine, and here's the brine recipe I use:

Brine:

8 qt. water

1 1/2 c. coarse kosher salt

1 c. honey

2 bunches fresh thyme

8 large garlic cloves, smashed and peeled

2 T. coarsely ground black pepper

Mix brine ingredients until salt and honey are dissolved.

Rinse turkey. Line an extra large stockpot (I used an old popcorn tin) with a very large, heavy, food-grade plastic bag. (I use a Reynolds Oven Roasting bag.) Place turkey in plastic bag, and pour brine over top. Let turkey brine overnight.

If you want to know how to smoke the turkey, I acquired these instructions from the mouth of my dear husband, The Big Bison, who is our resident turkey smoker. (Enough with the "How does he get that whole thing in his mouth AND get it lit?" comments. Don't think I don't see them coming from a mile away, because, I do. Before I was initiated in the ways of smoking, I made them myself.)

First, you gotta have a smoker grill. The type we use is called a Char-Griller, but there are better models, and worse models, so I'm not necessarily promoting this product. I'm just saying this one works just fine,

Oh, Black Turkey, Bam-a-Lam, before she got blackened, and smoked.

The coals under the wood produce the smoke that works its magic on the flavor of the bird.

You cook a turkey over indirect heat, so, light up a chimney full of coals, and dump half of the coals to the left and half to the right of the grate where the turkey is going to sit.

The coals were for starting the fire, but the wood is added next, on top of the coals, and is the predominate heat source throughout the cooking. (We used hickory wood, because that's what we have.) You want to bring the inside of the smoker temperature to somewhere between 400-500º, before you put the bird in to cook.

I wanted the drippings from the turkey, so that I could use them for gravy, so the BB put the turkey on a rack inside a foil pan. Then he put about a half of an inch of water in the bottom of the pan, to keep the turkey moist while it cooked. (There's also another pan, down below that one, under the grate, where he poured some apple juice, to add more flavor.) Place the pan in between the two piles of coals/wood, close the lid, and our 10 lb. bird took about 3 hours to cook, but that was with opening the lid a lot, to check on things.

The turkey is done when the temperature of the meat at the innermost part of the thigh registers 165º.

To me, the only negative about smoking a turkey is the turkey's skin: the color is unattractive (it looks burnt) and surprisingly, the texture is NOT crisp. It is, in fact, leathery.

But the FLAVOR and JUICINESS of a brined, smoked bird cannot be beaten, in my opinion.

Please, don't hesitate to ask questions in regard to anything that is unclear.

Will you have a bird for Turkey Day? How will your "goose" be cooked? :-D

Hey, Y'all, I Got Nominated, Again

2011-11-07T19:53:00.002-06:00

I got nominated. Me, and EIGHT MILLION OTHER PEOPLE, for the Homeschool Blog Awards.

I was nominated, again, for Best Encourager. This is a fact that you may well find somewhat ironic by the end of this post.

I'm in the same category as Ann Voskamp.

You can knock it off with the ear-splitting, gut-shaking howls of laughter that you're emitting, just at any point, now.

I'm a HUGE Ann Voskamp fan, now that I've read her book 1000 Gifts, so, I'd have to agree, you might just as well just head on over there and vote for her.

But it was sweet of my Mom to nominate me.

OK, she's dead, so it wasn't her, but it might as well have been.

Some people just love you too much for your own good, and you know who you are, Nota, my dear.

But anyway, if you want to vote for Ann Voskamp, or for any other of the 8 million nominees in my category of Best Encourager, or, even for me (I'm the third from the bottom of the list, because that's what you do - in all fairness - with a blog that starts with a W), here's the link to go vote.

Here's a link to the rules and procedures, but I think if you click on the dot, and then go click the Vote button at the bottom, your vote will register. If you click on the blog titles, it will take you to that blog, so you can enjoy lots and lots of encouragement before you make your choice.

Also, in other completely unrelated news, next year I'm changing my blog's name to:

*AAAA Top Quality, Uber Encouraging, Wild Life in the Woods*.

It's just a little whim of mine.

Do I Dare to Eat a Peach?

2011-11-05T20:25:00.007-05:00

(I borrowed the title for this post from a line from: "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock", a poem by T. S. Eliot)

My baby boy hadn't eaten a huge variety of solid foods at all when these pictures were taken. He'd been nursed for quite a while, and then gradually switched over to solid foods, but the sweetness of a summer peach, fresh off the tree, had never been revealed to him up until this point in his brief life.

Our good friend, Uncle Robbie, owned a recording studio at the time, called The Orchard. It had been named for the apple and peach trees on the property that he had purchased for his recording studio. Those were halcyon days, full of the melodies of tunes written that had earned respectable sums of money, and the promise of more to come.

Our future looked bright, and the fruit on the trees of The Orchard was ripe, and my Daddy was still alive, and we were full of joy, and hope, and optimism, and the proud parents of an adorable baby boy.

The first, sweet taste, from his Papa, and my Daddy.

That bite of peach that my boy took from his Papa? His first bite ever. Hence, the somewhat tentative look on his face.

See the juice, dripping off his chin, as his Daddy feeds him?

But that first tentative bite from his his Papa, led to many, many more bites of glorious, fully-ripened, peach-greed. The juice of that warm, sweet peach spilled down our arms and onto his blankie, below. Can you feel the joy spilling out of the photo? From both the boy, in the taste of the peach, and from the father, in the savoring of the pleasure of the moment?

The boy dared to eat, and his Daddy and I ate the moment, and we both enjoyed it with every ounce of joy that he did.

The summer of parenting of that boy while he's still in our home is ending. The fall of the portion of our parenting journey, where we have that sweet baby boy still in our home, has begun.

I'm a little verklempt by the whole thought.

Do I dare to eat THIS peach?

Parenting has seasons.

Life has seasons.

It can be hard to be In The Moment.

But I believe, nevertheless, that it is critical to be in the moment that Life hands you.

Are you aware? Are you paying attention?

How do you find YOUR peach to be?

Bleach It Away, Baby

2011-11-02T23:19:00.003-05:00

When my son was about 16 months old, my girlfriend invited us over for some wonderful Razzleberry Pie. As I recall, it was a three berry pie: blueberries, raspberries, and blackberries. All the sweetness of summer was packed inside that pastry shell. My son had never had a fruit pie before, and I think he actually did just about die and go to heaven.

When the kid really loved something he was eating, he made this sound that, back then, we called "wasping". It was a little hum, along the lines of "nom, nom, nom" that waxed and waned and waxed again. His vocabulary may have been limited, but his ability to communicate his culinary pleasure certainly wasn't. There was never a doubt in our minds when he was in love with what he was eating: the "wasp" would begin to buzz.

You know, they say a picture's worth a thousand words, and it so happens that on this occasion, taking a photograph was absolutely irresistible. If you like pictures of casualties of war, you'll love this picture of my Baby Boy, wasping over his Razzleberry Pie.

Nom, nom, nom. (Notice: it's in his hair, too.)

My girlfriend had a white tile table, with white grout between the tiles. You KNOW she needed some Clorox THAT night, to bleach away the evidence of my boy's Berry Bacchanalia. But oh, how we laughed. That moment was as delicious as the pie itself.

Have you had a Bleach It Away moment?

I received information about Clorox’s Bleach It Away campaign and am sharing my messy moment for the chance to win prizes from The SITS Girls. To learn more about the messy moment program, check out www.BleachItAway.com. Sharing your story on the Clorox fan page gets you entered for the chance to win $25,000 and daily prizes, and you can grab a coupon for Clorox® Regular Bleach.

Branding: You're Doing It, Whether You Know It Or Not

2011-11-01T11:59:00.000-05:00

View from my Atlanta hotel room's balcony. Pretty, yes?

I wanted to share some of the wealth that was shared with me from my time in Atlanta, city of Zombies, and location to the most recent SITS Girls Bloggy Boot Camp.

City of Zombies? You be the judge. It was a kickin' view, I admit.

I truly believe that in life we are blessed in order to be a blessing, so I'm going to share with you a little of what I heard, tell you what it means to me, and then, hopefully, challenge you to find some helpful meaning for yourself.

Branding. You DO know what that is, don't you?

A little something from my childhood, to clarify:

Poor Chuck Conners, labeled as a deserter, had to travel the west proving that he WASN'T a coward, all the days of his life. He was, in fact, a brave and good man. He had the unfortunate luck to be poorly and incorrectly branded.

This show was on TV when I was just a wee tot, but, I had an older brother and sisters who loved it. In fact, at my house, we had alternate lyrics that we set to the show's tune:

"STRANDED, stranded on the toilet bowl.
What do you do when you're stranded,
and you don't have a roll?
Though you fight like a man,
And you wipe with your hand,
You are STILL,
STRANDED."

But, as usual, I digress...

Back to the topic at hand. Branding DOESN'T HAVE TO BE A BAD WORD (as it was for poor Chuck Conners). According to our presenter, Ms. Amy Bradley Hole, of BeBetterBranding.com, she with the hair of liquid sunshine (see, I'm branding her in a good way), personal branding can, in fact, improve your blog.

AmyBHole as she goes by on Twitter, offered the following series of questions, so that we can brand our own bholes, in a GOOD way. I'll put my answers below the questions, in italics, but I'd encourage you to make a copy of the questions, and put a little thought into answering them. Maybe bounce your answers off your best friend, or one of your most faithful readers, and get their perceptions as well. Their responses my surprise and enlighten you.

Question 1: What are my distinguishing characteristics and personality traits?

I think I'm funny, sincere, thoughtful, real, encouraging, witty, and entertaining. If I didn't believe I possessed these qualities, that people enjoy reading, then, I really shouldn't keep blogging. I do believe that what I have to say is of value.

Question 2: What are my guiding principles and values?

I believe I belong to a loving God who wants people to know that their fullest life and greatest joy will be found living in connection to Him, and through lovingly serving others. I believe that a sense of humor as we go through our days is invaluable. I believe loyalty to people is critical. I believe honesty is essential.

Some of the friends that I feel loyalty to, shopping in Atlanta after the Bloggy Boot Camp Conference ended.

Question 3: What is my role on the web?

I share what life teaches me, and very often, those lessons fall under these 4 categories:
My four F's: Food, Faith, Fun, Family

Question 4: What is my promise? (In other words: When my readers come to me, what can they depend on that they will get?)

When my readers come to me, they will get :
My three E's: Encouragement, Entertainment, and Education.

Question 5: What is my story? Amy encouraged us to come up with a twitter-length sentence that summarizes our story.

Child of God; wife; mother; writer; bon vivant; former city-girl currently living and laughing her way through her wild life in the woods.

I would love feedback from you on any of the questions I asked and answered. If you think I'm missing seeing something kind of obvious, that is quite clear to you, please leave me a comment, and share your insight with me.

I'm going to add those 5 questions, unanswered here at the end of the blog, so that you can copy them and print them out and answer them for your own blog. Run your answers past your best friends and readers, and see if you are branded in the way that you think you are.

Question 1: What are my distinguishing characteristics and personality traits?

Question 2: What are my guiding principles and values?

Question 3: What is my role on the web?

Question 4: What is my promise?

Question 5: What is my story?

If you enjoyed this post, please, feel free to share it.

Atlanta and Zombies Go Together Like a Coke and a Smile

2011-10-26T10:32:00.000-05:00

So apparently I've been living on another planet.

When I signed up to go to Bloggy Boot Camp in Atlanta, I was really looking forward to visiting that fine city again.

Sure, I've been to Atlanta before. I've enjoyed the friendliness of Atlantans, the wonderful shopping, the fine aquarium, and the World of Coke museum.

But, no one told me about the zombies.

On our drive into downtown Atlanta, my friend Chloe, who was riding with me, began pointing at the five lanes of oncoming traffic that had ground to a halt while attempting to exit that great city, just as we were attempting to enter it. She pointed toward the silhouette of the skyscrapers that make up the skyline of Atlanta, and that served as the backdrop to the parking lot of oncoming interstate traffic that stretched out before us. And then she began babbling something about zombies.

Now, my friend Chloe has a number of interests that I don't share, and it's safe to say that vampires and zombies are among them. So, I humored her, responded politely but somewhat distractedly to her references to the zombie apocalypse and the CDC, and tried to pay attention to the ever thickening traffic that was closing in around us on our side of the highway, as we entered the city.

I think this might be the image she had in mind.

Little did I know then that the zombies were coming for me.

When our blogging conference was over, two days later, we stayed an extra day in Atlanta, just to have some girlfriend time with our friend Anne. We also met up with our internet friends Kristy and Kris, who happen to live in the Atlanta area. During the course of a lot of walking around Lenox Mall in Buckhead, my dogs began barking. (That's southernese for "my feet were starting to hurt". I'd worn the wrong shoes.) So by the time we got back to our hotel room that night, my dogs had pretty well commenced to baying the Hallelujah chorus, but we still needed to go out again, to eat dinner. Anne and Chloe very kindly offered to drive out to pick up some food to bring back to the room.

But before they left, they turned on our TV to the AMC channel, because they both wanted to watch the first episode to the second season of a TV show called The Walking Dead. Apparently, this show is hugely popular, if you live on a planet that is other than Planet Boonie. My orbit, up to this point, had been zombie-free.

If only the zombies had never landed.

So, picture this:

I am left very much alone in a strange hotel room in downtown Atlanta. All by myself, alone in the dark, in a big city that happens to be the location of the CDC (Center for Disease Control), where crucial parts of the plot line of The Walking Dead have occurred. The TV is on. The scene of cars parked on the interstate and the skyline of Atlanta flashes on the screen. Zombies begin shambling menacingly toward the survivors of the zombie apocalypse, who themselves are cowering under the abandoned cars that litter the highway. Meanwhile, back in my hotel room, the darkness outside my hotel window has deepened. Strange creaking sounds emanate from the hallway outside my hotel room's door. The zombies on the show rot and glower over their shrieking, terrified victims. My blood pressure soars. Zombie brains spurt on the screen, as arrows fired by the survivors pierce their skulls.

Zombie TV is NOT for the faint of heart at any time, but particularly, not for the faint of heart and queasy of stomach, who have been left alone in a dark hotel room in downtown Atlanta.

I made it out alive: but only because I closed my eyes at certain crucial points, covered my face periodically, and turned my head completely away when it got really bad. All survivors of horror movies know how critical it is to close your eyes when the going gets rough, and the stupid babysitter opens the basement door to go downstairs alone. Stupid, stupid, stupid move. Stupid babysitter.

And by the way, since my toe is messed up, I've taken to shambling around, much like a zombie.

But I haven't caught the zombie virus. (I don't think...)

And it's not because I'm easily influenceable. I mean, it's not like I'd watch some stupid zombie show, just because my friends do it.

I'd be the lemming with the life preserver on.

Brace and Bit

2011-10-18T09:00:00.000-05:00

As in, brace yourself: this might hurt a bit.

I think I need one of those brace and bit things to rotoroot inside my sinuses.

I need the power of Mr. Clean in a Neti Pot.

Because all of this:

Has been filled up with THIS:

Prayers for a speedy recovery would be much appreciated.

Bourbon Pumpkin Cheesecake with Bourbon Sour Cream Glaze

2011-10-17T08:39:00.003-05:00

A dessert to give thanks for.

My daughter LOVES pumpkin pie, AND she loves cheesecake, and she was TORN between which to ask for for her birthday dessert. And then, I remembered this cheesecake that I made for Thanksgiving, probably around 10 years ago. "How would pumpkin cheesecake suit you, my dear?" I inquired. She thought it might just do admirably, and so, that's what she got.

The review from my family: they all liked it very much. My son, who was sure he would hate it, since he hates pumpkin pie, has had 3 pieces so far, so I'd say it was a hit for him, for sure. If you enjoy looking for and trying out recipes in advance for Thanksgiving, and if you love cheesecake, you might want to give this one a trial run. As with most cheesecakes, you will need to make it the day/evening before you need it, to give it time to chill in the fridge overnight. (This is actually an advantage on Thanksgiving, I think: one less thing to make the day OF.)

The recipe I first found all those years ago through Gourmet magazine, and found it last week at epicurious.com. I only modified it slightly. All three modifications were due to not having the ingredients on hand that the recipe called for. First, I didn't realize that I was completely out of cornstarch (I substituted a scant 1/4 c. of flour instead, and that worked out fine) and I also had only about half the sour cream I needed for the glaze, so the glaze was spread thinner than I would have preferred, but it still ended up being just fine. I had no heavy cream, and so I substituted half and half in its place, and that worked out fine as well. The recipe I'm giving you today is just as it appears on epicurious.com, but I'm letting you know that I had success even though I had to make a few modifications.

Bourbon Pumpkin Cheesecake with Bourbon Sour Cream Glaze

Ingredients

For the crust:

3/4 c. graham cracker crumbs
1/2 c. finely chopped pecans
1/4 c. firmly packed light brown sugar
4 T. butter, melted and cooled

For the filling:

1 1/2 c. solid pack pumpkin
3 large eggs
1 1/2 t. cinnamon
1/2 t. freshly grated nutmeg
1/2 t. ground ginger
1/2 t. salt
1/2 c. firmly packed light brown sugar
3 (8 oz.) packages cream cheese, softened
1/2 c. granulated sugar
2 T. heavy cream (I substituted Half & Half)
1 T. cornstarch (I substituted 1/4 c. flour)
1 t. vanilla
1 T. bourbon

For the topping:

2 c. sour cream
2 T. granulated sugar
1 T. bourbon

16 pecan halves for garnish

Preparation:

Make the crust:

In a bowl combine the cracker crumbs, the pecans, and the sugars, stir in the butter, and press the mixture into the bottom and 1/2" up the side of a buttered 9" springform pan. Chill the crust for 1 hour.

Make the filling:

In a bowl, whisk together the pumpkin, eggs, spices, and the brown sugar. In a large mixer bowl, cream together the cream cheese and the granulated sugar, beat in the cream, cornstarch, vanilla, bourbon, and the pumpkin mixture. Beat the filling till it's smooth. Turn the mixer off, scrape the bottom of the bowl (a layer of cream cheese sometimes clings there) and mix for a few seconds more.

Pour the filling into the crust, bake the cheesecake in the middle of a preheated 350º oven for 50 to 55 minutes, or until the center is just set, and let it cool in the pan on a rack for 5 minutes.

Make the topping:

In a bowl, whisk together the sour cream, sugar and bourbon. Spread the sour cream mixture over the top of the cheesecake and bake the cheesecake for 5 more minutes. Let the cheesecake cool in the pan on a rack and chill it, covered, overnight. Remove the side of the pan and garnish the top of the cheesecake with the pecan halves.

Do you love fall food, too? Go visit my friend Gigi on Kludgy Mom, to see lots more fall recipes, and join her linky party and giveaway.

I love Autumn ...

2011-10-16T20:00:00.000-05:00

...and I love this boy.

They grow up too dang fast, don't they?

Had my daughter's 14th birthday celebration this weekend. We built a fire outside, and roasted hot dogs, and my husband got this shot of our 17 year old son, while the girls were roasting hot dogs.

Just thought I'd share.

And Keeping It Stupid...

2011-10-15T11:08:00.000-05:00

You know, in my last post, I kept it real. Despite the fact that in general, in life, I usually exercise better judgment, today, I'm staying with the theme: I'm keeping it stupid.

And being the fashion maven that I am (not), I thought I'd mention that the morning after I posted that I FINALLY got my hair re-highlighted, Lara Spencer announced on Good Morning America that dark roots are all the rage now, being sported by the likes of Gwyneth Paltrow, Madonna, Jennifer Anniston, and (she didn't mention this person, but I took note of it myself the previous day while watching the Food Network), Giada de Laurentiis.

And here I thought I was just too poor to afford an appointment. Little did I know that I had been a fashion forward trendsetter. Who, then, blew it.

Story of MY LIFE!

But, at least, you, my friends, can benefit from my mistake, and feel 100% AWESOME about any dark roots you may be sporting. You're not tardy! You're a FASHIONISTA!!!

So, to continue my pattern of exercising extremely poor judgment, I thought I'd share this little photo with you, snapped on my trip to North Carolina to visit family last weekend, at a barbecue joint in the Smoky Mountains. Their barbecue was just OK, but the name of their restaurant was mighty fine. They are nestled in beautiful Maggie Valley, North Carolina, on the banks of (surprise, surprise) a creek. It was a lovely little venue: wish the food had been as outstanding as the beauty of the place where the restaurant is located. Butt their sign just BEGS for a photo, don't you think? And being the idiots we are, we obliged.

My husband encouraged me to "stick it out". How'd I do?

I get, really, I do, how very large I look. But...if I worry about a little thing like self-respect, how could YOU be amused?

I do it all for you!

So, here we are, stopping by a tourist trap that has tempted us for years, and showing our butts on the creek.

:-D

Name your favorite tourist trap, while we're on the subject...

Keeping it Real

2011-10-11T13:20:00.000-05:00

In the interests of keeping it real, there are some things about myself I feel I must share.

I got my hair highlighted yesterday. The stylist uses foils. The gray is coming in thicker and thicker, and pretty soon, I'm going to have to color the whole mop, because highlighting alone will not be enough. This makes me sad. Right now, the grays blend in fairly well with the highlighting, and I don't look too washed out. But my complexion + gray hair + my regular hair color is not a happy color combo. Yesterday, my husband dropped by the salon where I get my hair done, while I was in the midst, as it were. He had never seen "the price I pay for beauty" before. He was initially stunned, but then asked how many channels I was picking up. Then, he pulled out his phone, and snapped this picture:
What price, beauty?
Before I left to get my hair done did, I worked a good part of the morning to prepare something yummy-but-frugal in the slow cooker for my family to enjoy before they dash out the door to attend the men's evening Bible Study Fellowship class. I made a lentil stew from America's Test Kitchen's cookbook, Slow Cooker Revolution. It smelled marvelous, all day long. It had many of the same spices as chicken tikka masala. I was eager to try it. The verdict on all my labor and toil? Meh. I mean, Jacob sold his birthright for THIS??? Mediocre may, in fact, be too kind an adjective. I will not be repeating that recipe. It may have been my fault because I used brown lentils (they were what I had) instead of the red lentils that the recipe called for. But I think the main problem was that the whole dish was overcooked. But, let the record show: Susan in the Boonies cooked a loser dinner.
I also made my daughter a pumpkin pie yesterday, in honor of her birthday. It was just out of the oven as they were leaving to go to the Bible Study. The recipe said to wait two hours before serving it. They left, knowing that there would be pie on their return. But did I wait for them, good mother that I am? While they were gone, I cut into my daughter's birthday pie, and I helped myself to the very first slice, all warm and creamy, topped with chilled whipped cream that began to melt when it hit the warmth of the pie and the crisp, flaky crust. I wonder what kind of eternal punishment awaits me for cutting that first piece of pie while I was home all alone for four hours. Neither she nor her Daddy (who are my two pumpkin pie eaters) batted an eyelash that I had already cut into the pie, upon their return, so I didn't volunteer that I might perhaps be feeling the need to apologize for being a bad Mommy.

But now I pose to you this question, sitting alone in YOUR house, with warm, fresh pie that wasn't getting any fresher: how would YOU have fared??? I ask you, would YOU have waited the four long hours till they got home, while the clock ticked inexorably on, as the pie grew older and colder?

If you would have bit, you must acquit.

What say you? Will you cast the first stone?

Happy Birthday, Baby!

2011-10-10T11:30:00.000-05:00

My little girl can get overlooked in crowd of kids where her brother hangs. She's sweet as she can be, but much more retiring than her brother. In truth, she's witty and warm, as well as being sugar and spice and all things nice.

But this summer, she decided she wanted to enter the talent show at youth camp. I think this took her friends aback, a bit. It certainly took the youth leaders by surprise. What talent did "Little Sister", the quiet one, possess?

Enough to cause a bit of a stir in that room.

Enough to tie for first place, apparently.

She was 13 this summer, when this was filmed. My friend Caryl just happened to have her iphone with her, and she took a video, so I got to see it, even though I wasn't there.

But today's a new day. Today, my little one is 14.

Happy Birthday, Baby: you may be 14, but you've got what it takes.

I love you, and I couldn't be more proud of my darling, dancing, twirling, whirling girl.

Awful Beautiful Life

2011-10-06T10:56:00.002-05:00

Harley Allen performing at the Station Inn, world-renowned bluegrass dive.
Image from here.

When I went to the Bluegrass Fan Fest/Alison Krauss concert on Saturday night, they held a tribute to a recently deceased songwriter/singer/musician named Harley Allen. He had an extremely successful career as a songwriter. He wrote songs for Garth Brooks, Alan Jackson, Blake Shelton, Dierks Bentley and Darryl Worley, among many others. Darryl Worley helped Harley write the song I wanted to share with you today.

I have several reasons for wanting you to share with you this song. First, Harley was born the exact year that my husband was born, and died from cancer, right about the time my husband might have died from his heart attack. Harley's wife Debbie, and his kids were there that night at the tribute. Why does my husband still live, while Harley's wife and kids live on to mourn the lack of Harley in their everyday life? I have absolutely no idea. But the thought made me infinitely sad, and caused me to hurt for them, a family that must move onward without a husband and a father.

From the snippets of film that they showed, precious moment's from Harley's life, and the stories that they shared, I know Harley loved his life: he lived pretty large, and he is deeply missed by his family, friends, and the Nashville music community.

Cancer sucks.

When Darryl Worley got up to share this song, he said that the day he walked into the room to write for the first time with Harley, that Harley played him the chorus to this song:

"I love this crazy, tragic, sometimes almost magic, awful, beautiful life."

Worley said that as he listened to both the words, and the melody of that phrase, he knew the best and most difficult part of the song was already written, and told Harley so. He said, "I can't write that song with you, because it's already written,". and Harley told him, "No, you're going to help me write the verses, and we're going to make them your own." Which, Worley said, was exactly what they did.

And together, they turned out a really good song. But Worley was right: it's the chorus that haunts me.

I've lived long enough to know that life ain't always sunshine and roses. Recently, I've had occasion to talk with a couple of friends who are in very, very difficult situations. One had her husband of 30 years walk out on her. One is stuck in a relationship where her husband behaves as if she is of little worth to him. It grieves me to think about their situations. What it would be like to think I might have to start over at this stage in my life? How could I even do that?

But those were the kind of thoughts that flashed through my mind briefly back in May. What if he dies? What if I'm left alone? What in the world will I do? I CAN'T!

We used to joke in college, saying in mournful, despondent tones: "Life is hard. And then you die."

Well, it IS hard. And you DO die.

(Which, for the Christian, isn't really such bad news, at all...)

But even though life is hard, I find this life-love welling up inside of me. I confess, I find it easier on October days with brilliant blue skies, refreshing breezes and low humidity, after the punishing heat of summer is over. But even in the midst of the nasty weather:

I love this crazy, tragic, sometimes almost magic, awful, beautiful life.

Now, I know you might not be a country music fan. I'm not wild about some of the stuff that's out there myself. But give the lyrics of this song a listen-to.

Somehow or another, it points me back to my Creator, because, well, He's the one who gave me the gift of life. And as messed up as we are, and as much as life is full of tragedy at times, He still loves us. I can't help but think that in appreciating this gift of life that we've been given, that it's also appreciating the Giver of the gift.

So, it's my prayer that you'll take a moment now to appreciate the gift you've been given, and maybe even thank the Giver of the gift.

(PLEASE pardon the commercial: it's only a few seconds. The song's next.)

Loser Talk

2011-10-05T09:10:00.000-05:00

No, this post is not about me losing weight, more's the pity. Image from here.

My friend Anne's shoulders are sprinkled with Golden Pixie Dust.

Well, OK, they're not, really. But she wins contests wherever she goes! Nearly every time I call her she is telling me about the latest giveaway she won. (And it has NOTHING to do with the fact that she spends an inordinate amount of time on Twitter. Nothing.)

But I rejoice with her in all her winning. And I do it sincerely, too, because I really AM happy for her.

But I enter every giveaway known to blogkind and never win ANYTHING.

Anne says saying that out loud is Loser Talk.

And she's right, you know: because that was me, saying it out loud. The Big Loser was doing the talking. :-D

In the immortal words of Vince Lombardi:

"Show me a good loser, and I'll show you a loser."

:-D

So, I've been thinking about doing a post on this for weeks. I've been thinking about calling it:

"Cain't Win Nuthin'."

Except now I can't write it, because my losing streak has been broken, making me a Loser at Losing.

Because yesterday, I won a contest!!! Tickets to a festival, filled with wonderful events, and tons of fun!!!

Only we can't take advantage of them, because shortly after I entered said giveaway, we decided to make plans to go out of town that weekend on a family trip.

Which makes me a Loser at Winning.

And then dear sweet Hilary over at The Smitten Image mentioned my post on Inappropriate Giggling as one of her Posts of the Week, for "A Good Laugh".

"

(In this post, you get to laugh at me behaving like a Big Loser at a wedding, so if you haven't enjoyed a laugh at my expense lately, you really don't want to miss out on doing that.)

So, to wrap up this abominably depressing post, I'd like to remind you of something Papa Hemingway once said:

"You know what makes a good loser?

Practice."

When thought of in those terms, I'm The Mary Poppins of Losing: Practically perfect in every way.

That Mary Poppins: what a loser.

So, what about you? How's YOUR luck?

Or, and maybe a better question, what's the best thing you've ever won?

My Big Night at Salud! Cooking School with Deb Paquette

2011-10-03T19:39:00.000-05:00

Deb Paquette teaching at "Salud!" Cooking School

I had a dream come true last Tuesday night: I got to watch Deb Paquette cook my dinner, and talk with her the whole time.

For those of you who are not local to Nashville, Deb owned and operated my very favorite local restaurant, Zola, until a couple of years ago, when she and her husband made a decision to do something different. I thought she had left Nashville, but it turns out they never did completely leave. She's been involved with menu planning and helping a few new restaurants get themselves up and running (among them, Local Taco, and the soon to be opened Urban Grub).

But one day, about a couple of months ago, due to a terrible case of the trots (that I blame indirectly on Deb, because I ended up having an AWFUL meal at a restaurant that was NOT Zola, since Zola no longer exists) while I was anxiously making my rumble-tummied way to the bathroom at Whole Foods, I happened on the catalog that informed me that Whole Foods had a cooking school. And IN that cooking school, in a few short weeks, none other than DEB PAQUETTE would be teaching me to think "Outside the Box", culinarily speaking.

Well, pass the toilet paper, and SIGN ME UP!!!!!!!!!

I had the time of my life. (cue music).

I had a front row seat, and Deb chatted away with her rapt audience, as she made 3 soups:

Roasted Cantaloupe Soup
Roasted Beet, Carrot and Red Bell Pepper Soup
Smoked Onion Soup (she SMOKED CREAM to make this soup! Yes, I'm serious! Think about THAT!!!)

Beet, Carrot, and Red Bell Pepper Soup: look at that glorious color!!!

Roasted Cantaloupe Soup: garnished with Bacon, Balsamic Vinegar and Frozen Buttermilk

and

Pork Tenderloin done 3 ways, with a Trifecta of Rubs:

Moroccan
Turkish
French

Pork with a Trifecta of Rubs: Turkish Rub with Hummus, Feta and Mint/Onion Relish, Moroccan Roasted Pork with Mango Relish, and French Pork with Olive Aioli

. And her very own super special chocolate chip cookies.

I took a few pictures. (They're not the best. Sorry. But you'll get the idea.)

I took copious notes, as pearls of culinary wisdom dropped from her lips.

I tasted. I sighed with delight.

I giggled.

I sparked. I fizzed. For the lady who knows what time it is.
(Sadder But Wiser Girl/The Music Man reference. :-D )

Gosh, it was great. It fed my mind, my body, and my spirit.

I'm not going to give you any of her recipes until I have done a trial run myself at home, but I have no doubt I can replicate them. A few will take some special spice mixtures I'll need to concoct myself.

Ras el hanout is one of those. It's a Moroccan blend of spices. Deb pronounced it "razzle" as in dazzle. The name means "top of the shop" in Arabic, and refers to a mixture of the best spices a seller has to offer. Typically it might contain the "5 c's": cardamom, coriander, cumin, cinnamon, cayenne, as well as turmeric and nutmeg.

The Moroccan pork Deb topped with a mango lime pineapple ginger walnut relish. Aiyee!!! The flavors!!! My tongue went off on the road to Morocco! (cue Crosby and Hope)

The Turkish rub had a blackened spice called kimizi berbere in it (toasted cayenne and paprika that Deb toasts outside due to the potent fumes put off by the cayenne. as well as 2 teaspoons of fenugreek, a kind of yellow grainy stuff used in curries. She topped her Turkish pork with hummus, feta, and a mint/onion relish.

My very favorite was the French Pork with Olive Oil Aioli. Sacré Bleu!!! My tastebuds were in heaven, I assure you! The rub itself contained fennel seed, coriander seed, redpepper flakes, fresh rosemary, dried tarragon, granulated garlic and lemon zest. Cue Pepé Le Pew: Come weeth me to the Casbah, and we will make beeyouteeful music togezair. And the aioli on top? Oooooooh la la!! C'était magnifique!!!

I am making that one FOR SURE!!! And I'll report back when I do.

No, that's not blood on her apron from fending me off. It's beet juice.

My heartfelt thanks to Deb, for giving me my very own Big Night. It was a night I will never forget, as long as I live!!!